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sparkledfirecracker · 1 year

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Guilty Pleasure

Request: Andy fucking his sister in law while Laurie is out of town for a week.

Word count: 5262

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit sexual content, explicit language, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cheating but not really, spanking, fingering, penetrative sex, sibling rivalry, semi-bullying by a sibling, mention of re-marrying, porn without a real plot. If I missed any, let me know.

A/N: This contains cheating, do not read or interact if you're sensitive to familial betrayal. Jacob does not exist in this story. Anything you read is fictional and not based on actual events. This is not beta’d. Happy 2023, nonnie! May it be a great filthy and panty-wetting season. Tumblr ate your ask and I’ve tried to post this 3 times now. Hopefully this meets your expectations and thank you for dropping off the request (I’m sorry it took me so long) 😘. Enjoy!

I do not give permission to repost, publish or use any of my stories, that counts for media entertainment too. Reblogging, liking, commenting and ghost reading on the other hand is all allowed.

By clicking ‘keep reading’ or ‘read more’ you agree to be 18 or older.

Your relationship with your sister had never been loving, it always contained rivalry. Having wanted to curse your father for remarrying. Laurie was always being picked as the favourite in your eyes.

That is why it had surprised you the minute she had asked you to check in on her husband. Stating she was going to be out of town for the week. As a good sister you had agreed to her request, it also came in handy that you enjoyed spending time with Andy. He was generally nice and on top of that, good company.

Since you both worked together at the district attorney’s office, it immediately eased the awkwardness. With a slip of the tongue, you had offended Andy during lunch. Stating that you never had seen ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’. Andy practically had demanded you to come over for dinner and watch the film together.

As the day came to an end. You had declined his offer to give you a ride as you still had some errands to run for Neil. Andy had huffed at the mention of his name. Muttering that Neil hadn’t been worth all the extra hours so that he could get praise for the work you had done.

It had been almost two hours later than initially planned. “Andy, I’m home.” You yelled excitedly through the house as you stepped through the front door.

His muscular frame appeared in the opened-up arch of the kitchen. With a wide smirk, he placed his hands on his hips and scanned you from head to toe. A comforting warmth wrapped around you like a blanket preventing the cold from creeping in.

You weren’t prepared for the intrusive thoughts to flood back the way they did. Laurie had won the bet between you both all those years ago. It wasn’t so much a bet, it was more a way to give you stick for not going after what you desired. Your heart shattered the moment she told you she started to develop feelings for Andy.

Seeing Andy like this made all the old feelings resurface. The doting husband waiting for his partner to come home. A soft yearning for his touch or those lingering eye contact moments. Mentally rolling your eyes when you looked straight at his wedding ring. Wanting to curse yourself for having allowed their relationship to go on this way.

Their marriage was based on a lie. Laurie didn’t love him the way you did, all this yearning had stopped the moment they said “I do”. Only to find out now that those feelings never had been gone. Just stuffed and locked in an imaginary filing cabinet.

Insufferable reminders of what could’ve been clouding your head. That’s where Laurie thrived, your discomfort. And it had become her running joke, teasing you for fawning over the man that she fucked at night.

“I hope you like pizza,” Andy let out a heavy sigh, “I’ve ruined the pasta.” He confessed, supporting an embarrassed look. Leaning back against the counter of the kitchen island. His hands gripping the edge so tightly it almost seemed like it drained the blood.

Was he nervous? He couldn’t be, he had never been nervous when you were around in the past. Though the tension between you both could be cut by a knife.

“I brought beer.” You smiled, holding up the six-pack in your hand breaking the slightly awkward silence.

“You didn’t have to.”

“It’s not polite to come empty-handed.”

“You’re family, you’re not obliged to bring anything.” He gave you a smile grabbing the six-pack from your hands. Making his way towards the fridge, opening the door, and looking back at you. “Want one?”

“I prefer a cold one.”

He nodded, grabbing two bottles from a shelf while sliding your six-pack into one of the empty spots. He cracked open both bottles, handing you one.

A polite conversation followed as you settled yourselves in the living room. With the amount of pizza ordered, you suggested doing a taste test. Andy admitted that he didn’t know what you would like and had ordered multiple choices while he handed you a notepad and pen to scribble down your ratings of each slice.

He had started playing Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and you were so invested in the film. Almost blocking out where you were, losing track of your surroundings as the television sucked you into the story at least so you had hoped.

Your your mind wandered to other things. What would life look like if you and Andy had started dating? What if Laurie never had acted upon her impulses? He kept it neat and groomed, the bristles must be so soft. His beard would surely feel great on your skin. Those hands were large and probably very skilled. The way he gripped his beer bottle with precision and delicacy. The motion made you swallow hard, shaking your head slightly to gain back focus.

The thought of those fingers deeply buried inside you made you clench. How the curl of gesture would send you over the edge with much skill. His perfect lips wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking your core. Pleasing you in any and every way no man had ever done before.

You blamed it on the way he walked around the office. He truly must be very well hung. The way his bulge had once been shown and on full display. Remembering the way he had looked back at you through narrowed eyes. As if to tell you that you had been the reason his pants got awfully tight.

With a choked breath, your chest warmed at the sound of his laughter. Clamping a hand over your mouth when you let out a squeak from the slight shock. His eyes burned holes into your skin as you felt him watch. Though it was hard not to do the same every time he laughed at a funny part, either taking a sip of the beer in his hand or taking a bite from his pizza.

“You know you can sit on the couch, right?” The question sounded more like a demand, but you tried to avoid his gaze at all costs.

“I know, but I like sitting on the floor.” It was a swift reply, gulping your beer. Nervous feelings grew in the pit of your stomach.

“When your ass gets all stiff and tingling, you know where you can get comfortable.”

You almost choked on the gulp of beer you had just taken. Coughing and laughing as you tried to breathe. Andy slid over, softly patting and rubbing your back.

“Don’t say things like that Andy, I could’ve killed myself.”

“As long as I’m here, you’re free from harm’s reach.”

“How noble, my knight in shining armour.”

“Is that how you’ve been seeing me for all those years?”

His gloating face said it all. He knew about your crush on him. How? Did Laurie tell him? Was it all those stolen glances in the office or the ones here on his couch in his own home? Maybe even all the tortuous looks and hurrying out of the room whenever he was near in your college days?

You felt your face heat up, trying to hide your embarrassed expression. Blood pumped through your veins like it was about to blow your eardrums.

“I’ve known for years.” Andy confessed, “I must say I’m amazed and angered at the same time. You have denied yourself to try and win me for you. Were you too shy to ask me out for that sorority party?”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. There was no turning back. Lying to him or yourself wasn’t going to help either of you.

“Yes.”

“I need a little more words than that, sweetheart.” He inched his way closer to you.

“Yes, I was shy.” The lump in your throat felt uncomfortable.

“Why did you let Laurie treat you the way she did? Why did you let her win?”

“I don’t know. I should go home.” You rushed, trying to get up and run away from this mess that was unfolding. Instead, you were slammed back down, air left your lungs as you collided with Andy’s thighs. One hand kept you pinned down on his lap. The other massaging and squeezing your ass.

“It’s always been you that I truly wanted,” a warmth flooded your chest again. “Imagine my disappointment when you didn’t object during our wedding. Making me feel miserable and stuck in this marriage for years.”

Andy’s hand rubbed the globe of your ass, you gasped when his hand smacked your ass. Your muscles contracted under the impact but melted into the obtained position over his lap. The realization of him punishing you for all your past mistakes went straight to your core. Biting down on your lip to stifle the moan from breaking free.

“I’m sorry, Andy.”

“Are you really, sweetheart?” Andy asked, leaving another imprint on your ass.

“Yes.” A desperate cry for him

“How about you being exceptionally quiet and showing me how well you can take your punishment.” The question was laced with a promise. A firm one at that. “I’d like to hear how sorry you really are.”

You simply nodded bracing for impact, but it faded to surprise when he lifted your skirt. Andy hummed with satisfaction as your lace panties and garter set became exposed.

With each collision of Andy’s hand, your ass became more and more sore. Every harsh slap felt more raw than the previous one. Making you bite your lower lip, trying to keep the sounds muffled and still.

“Are you going to be good for me?”

“Yes.” You replied,

“I think you can do much better than that.”

Another smack burned on your skin. You nodded your head, crying out an “I’m sorry, Andy.”

You were surprised when Andy helped you sit back on the couch. Hissing at the burn of your ass on the fabric. Your mascara had stained your cheeks from the few tears that had slipped from the arousing pain.

His fingers softly brushed your cheek. Gathering the melted makeup or maybe even smearing it further. There was no telling in his movement.

“You look beautiful.” The whisper was barely audible and spoken with true admiration. Without thought, you pressed your lips against his. Feeling him smile into this moment. Probably because it had been the first time since you took charge of what felt right.

“Tell me you want this.” Andy breathed against your lips, as the kiss broke. Your eyes flickered open, meeting his gaze. Worry and hope both dancing in the blue hue of his eyes.

“More than anything.” It wasn’t a lie, but it would be wrong to act upon these feelings. “We can’t.”

“Laurie won’t mind. She doesn’t love me the way you love me.”

“But-”

His lips interrupted the speech you were about to recite. Guilt clearly wasn’t on Andy’s mind. The way his tongue explored every part of your mouth like he was on a scavenger hunt. Stroking, teasing, pleasing and obscenely filthy. He made you hungry for more.

Not even your wildest dreams could’ve prepared you for the searing passion. His large hands cupped your face guiding you to lie down. The moment he had you underneath him, his hands ripped your silk shirt with haste. Neither of you cared enough for the pearl buttons that flew across the room.

With a darkened hunger he glanced back at you. Toying your nipples through the laced fabric of your bra between his fingers. You arched off the couch as he pebbled and tugged on your breasts. Swiftly pulling the delicate lace down, taking one of your boobs into his mouth. You whined at the erotic swirl of his tongue, nothing but lustful precision.

His hands found the zipper on your skirt. Tugging the item off, discarding it on the floor. Running his hands over your garter belt. The look on Andy’s face said it all, he hadn’t seen anything like it in a long time. Making you his shiny new toy, ready to be devoured and owned.

You leaned up, cupping his face and pulling him into a desperate kiss. Feeling his hand smoothly moving over your panties. Your body had now become his playground, making you desperate for him. With a pout he broke of your kiss, searching for your approval as he pulled aside the material of your panties. A softened smile was enough for him to slide his fingers through your heat, coating them in your juices.

Andy brought his finger to his mouth, groaning loudly as he licked them off. You tried to look for that one moment where you would both find a reason to break this off. Yet all you found was a deepened craving to need one another.

You watched Andy lean down. Kissing his way around your thighs. The soft hair of his beard tickling and teasing your skin. Gasping at the tender lick from the tip of his tongue against your clit followed by a gentle kiss. Another lick gathered more of your soaked core. Sucking on the pulsating nub. His tongue explored every crease and crevice of your cunt.

The throbbing ache builded between your legs while Andy gently licked through your folds. Circling the tip of his tongue over your clit, making sure to tease you enough until you let out a soft whine. With every sound you made from his touch, he sucked down and placed a kiss.

He spread your legs wide, needing more space than you currently allowed him. For a moment shame coursed your body, closing your legs as far as he allowed you to. You covered your face with your arms as if to shield your emotions from him. Andy’s hands squeeze your thighs harshly, making you inhale sharply.

“Don’t you ever dare hide from me.” He warned, peeling your arms off your face. A fiery kiss pressed against your lips. Your moan seemed enough for Andy to start more exploration. Leaving your lips, pecking your jaw. Nibbling your ear, tracing your neck. Sucking, licking and teasing in order to make you focus on the sinful pleasure.

The suck of his mouth on your breasts made you arch further into him. The way he played your body like a fiddle. Making you sing a different tune. Allowing you to float on cloud nine when he had barely done anything yet.

The softness of his hands stroked your legs. Comforting you in this odd situation. Making sure to let you know it was okay to give in to him and enjoy this just as much as he did. Your panties were hooked around his fingers. Letting them be pulled down and thrown into the room.

The grip of his hands was a little rougher when he pulled your legs apart again. Coming face to face with your soaked cunt. You tried to read his face, a certain glow of admiration spreading across his features.

“Beautiful.” He praised. The whisper of his voice penetrated your mind. He clearly longed for you just as much as you longed for him.

His large palms held your ass, while the tips of his thumbs explored the outer edges of your pussy. For a moment you stopped breathing at his gentle touch. Juvenile play as if he was exploring what stroke would give him a reaction.

You watched Andy lean forward, feeling his tongue toy with your clit. Flat swipes, gentle circles and a rhythmic change between a slow and faster pace was enough to make you cry out for him. Your hands found the strands of his fluffed-up hair. Making sure he knew you appreciated his delicate touch.

His tongue swiped back and forth through your lips. Sucking his lips around your clit as he reached the top. Lewd noises filled the air as he drank up your juices.

His possession became clear when you tried to shift into another position. His large hands held you in place. Making sure you felt every bristle of his beard and movement of his mouth. His tongue sank deeper and with more pressure like a deprived man who had been kept from his dirty little secret.

You tugged his hair at the eliciting feeling building in the pit of your stomach. His beard rubbed your sensitive cunt as his tongue worked its magic. The feeling too overwhelming making your hands try to stop him. Andy hadn’t waited long to stop his actions. He furrowed his brows in annoyance.

“When I’m down here, you don’t get to interrupt me. Understood?”

“Yes-yes.” You stammered out under his gaze.

With a single nod, you felt his tongue deep between the lips of your pussy again. Delicate kitten licks toying with you and with each moan it spurred him on to fasten his actions. Burying his face for a deeper taste of you.

With a harsh suck, he popped your clit from his mouth. You felt him smiling against your pussy. Happy to be between your legs. Allowing you to play and tug his hair as long as you didn’t interrupt his meal.

His tongue flicked your pulsing clit while his thumb rubs up and down your hole. Gathering all of the dripping nectar with his mouth. Feeling the pressure of his other finger digging into your ass. Your hips bucked for a second and he pushed his thumb in.

Sobbing at the assault on your cunt only allowed for his tongue to rapidly flick and swirl your clit. The thrust of his thumb didn’t feel big enough. Only making you whine and whimper for more of his touch.

Another finger joins as you feel two fingers sliding up and down your pussy. “Yes!” You exclaimed at the relief of the soft stretch. Whining when he slid them back out.

Andy’s explored every inch of your soaked core. One of his fingers teased your entrance, making your body writhe under his touch desperately. Feeling two of his fingers slide inside felt like a gift. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he scissors them inside. Pulling them in and out to draw more of your juice out.

No man had ever given your cunt this type of attention. Not with this much precision. He hummed at the taste of everything you were giving him. Your moans increased as he made you feel so good.

“Oh fuck.” Your head craned backwards as you pulled his face closer to your cunt. Not wanting him to leave.

With a twist of his wrist, he curled his fingers against your sweet spot. Everything was happening so fast, you couldn’y even think about wrong or right anymore. His hand was covered in your sweet nectar, lapping it up with his hungered mouth. Drawing everything out that you’re giving him.

Your orgasm builded quickly, nothing but gasps, moans and whimpers leaving your body. Bucking your hips against his face was punished with his strong arm holding you down. Clearly sending you a sign that he would do all the work.

The burn of his beard had subdued due to the ecstatic feeling that rose. The squelched noises filled the air as your cunt drenched his fingers.

“Andy, please.” You screamed at the erratic pumps. Your legs clamped around his head. The spasms of your body erupted from his assault. “Please, stop, Andy.”

Shuddering around his fingers made him still his fingers and pull back from your pussy. His bewildered gaze met yours. He was a man on a mission. The grip on the couch eased up, as he let you have a moment to catch your breath.

Drawing his fingers from your core, he plunged them back in. Clearly sending you a sign that he would be the one making all the decisions tonight. Your trembling body assaulted another time as his mouth worked your core. Soft kisses and strokes helped you through your high. Working with you to come back down from the heavenly state he had put you in.

Andy got up without a warning. Holding out his hand for you to grab. Your cunt still pulsating from the mindblowing orgasm, making it hard to stand up. Rolling your eyes at this uncharming moment as he guided you up the stairs.

As he opened the bedroom door he turned back at you. Suddenly everything was starting to become too real as you stood in front of him vulnerable and naked. Guilt clouding your mind once again. Andy grabbed your waist, pulling you closer and swiftly turning your bodies, making you walk backwards. His lips teasing yours with soft pecks.

“You’re overdressed, Barber.”

He threw his head back laughing at your words. Releasing you from his grasp, undressing quickly. You glanced down your body, noting you still were in your own lingerie. Unclipping your bra, letting it fall to the floor.

Your fingers hooked under the garter belt around your waist. Andy stopped your hands from acting any further as you tried to slide it off. He raised an eyebrow, giving you a warning, watching him slide down his boxers. Gulping when his cock springs free as he pulls his boxers down.

Andy was bigger than any other man you had in the past. One thing was clear, Andy Barber wanted you more than anything. He was going to be yours for a night. Fuck Laurie and her stupid comments that still had haunted you.

You would devour him one time and then cut all ties. A way of getting him out of your system. Your hands wandered over your ass up your hips and waist. Gliding over your breasts, tweaking the nipples between your fingers.

“You’re so gorgeous, sweetheart.” Andy praised, stepping towards you. His hand settled at the base of your neck while the other cupped your cheek. His lips were hungry, searching for an entry. A filthy swipe of his tongue against your lips. Caressing your palate and dancing with your tongue. He guided you back towards the bed until you could take no more steps.

His cock pushed against your stomach, making the excitement shoot through your veins. Andy ground into you, making you clench around nothing. Humming at the strokes of his tongue, yelping when he suddenly pushed you down on the bed.

Taking advantage of your surprise he flipped you over. Climbing behind you with his knees settling on either side of your body. His hands resting beside your head, pressing loving kisses on your cheek, down your shoulder while tracing wet and sloppy marks down your spine. With every move, he slowly sat back up.

His hands caressed your ass, admiring the view underneath him. Slightly tilting your hips so your ass would spread a little, granting him more access to your pussy.

Andy ran his cock through your soaked core. Coating himself while working your excitement up again. He tapped your pussy with his length before sinking in his tip in to tease you. You gripped the sheets letting out a muffled moan.

“Please, Andy, I need more.”

“So desperate for my cock.”

“Please, fuck me.” You begged, feeling him pull out of you.

Andy repositioned himself, spreading his knees wide, making sure he all leverage over your body. A darkened smile held his face. With a single deep thrust, he nearly splitted you in half. The allowance to get used to his size was short lived when he bottomed out.

“So tight for me, sweetheart.” Andy husked, taking in every expression you displayed as you tilted your head to look back at him. He was looking for discomfort, but all you returned was a smile when he pushed back inside your walls.

His hips rocked in and out, stretching your cunt and easing off the burn. He pulled out, slowly dipping in and out of your dripping cunt. Your hands reached back to spread your cheeks for him while he slowly kept sinking in further and further.

Your hips kept lifting as he kept plunging in and out of your hole. He grabbed your hands, stopping the spread of your ass, guiding them upward above your head. With a rough grasp on your hips he impaled you deeply. Driving his cock inside your wet walls eagerly.

Soft whines escaped when he pounded you from behind. Working up your orgasm as he slided into you over and over again. Clenching around him when he angled his cock just right against your sweet spot.

He drew your body close to his when he rolled you both sideways. The pumps of his cock added more and more pleasure in this newfound position. Your foot rested on his thigh. Feeling his lips marking your neck. His large hand kneading your breasts, pinching your nipples and making you sob at the pleasure swirling in your veins.

You squeezed around him, suddenly releasing more frantic ruts from him. The muscles of your body tensed at the spearing motion. Andy’s hand circled your waistline finding your swollen clit. His flat fingers rotated your overworked cunt. Making you squeeze him even harder as you couldn’t withhold from cumming. You trembled in his hold as he kept you close.

He slid out and laid back, his cock still throbbing as you turn your body towards him. You licked your lips at the glistened length.

“I want to admire your view. Ride me, sweetheart.” Andy ordered

It was a different request than what you initially had in mind, but it wasn’t one you were going to deny him if it meant more pleasure for you both. Soaking up every inch of love Andy was willing to give you before you had to part ways.

Throwing your leg over, he holds his cock for you to sink down on. Your mouth fell open at the renewed positioned feel of his width. Halfway there he let you take control. Sliding his own hands up your body playing with your nipples and kneading the squishy flesh of your breasts.

“So good.” You gasped, bouncing gently up and down his cock. Watching Andy’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. Upon impulse you respond by leaning forward as you keep riding him. Your lips meeting, kissing him fiercely.

With your hips circling his cock his hands were free to roam and caress your body. His hands stroked the small of your back down to your ass, helping you push down further on his cock. Pulling you back into him when you lift a little too high. Meeting the slow rocks of your hips while your mouths desperately fuck one another on their own rhythm.

His arms circled your waist, holding you down, fucking up into your drenched cunt. Breathlessly you break off the searing kiss as he fucks you deeply. His eyes watch you closely, admiring your beauty as you work up to another orgasm.

Andy flipped your bodies, making your legs fell open. He sank back in deeply, resting his arms beside you. Your needy body right where he wanted it. You’re vulnerable while he was in total control. He slowly rolled his hips into you. The friction was deep and loving. Your legs circled his waist, holding him within close proximity.

His ruts deepen with every pound, making it harder for you to breathe. Every inhale was met with a cry of pleasure. Your sobs only made him pump you harder. Fucking you harder into the mattress. You were about to reach another high when he swiftly pulls out and pumps himself on your stomach. His white ropes painted your flesh.

“I want to pump you full of me.”

“Then fuck me, Andy.”

A consensual agreement, not one of you had thought of a condom. Too busy drinking up one another. Without another word, he slid back inside your walls. Opening one leg while resting the sole of your foot against his shoulder. Slowly you fell apart as your muscles tensed up again.

A rough pounding as he fucks you deeply. Taking him to the hilt, creaming his cock with your arousal. His hand took a hold of your ankle and he pressed his lips against the inside. You watch him lean his head back, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

Andy chased his own high with a guttural growl. The orgasm rippled through you, trembling underneath him. Your body screamed for him, feeling his hot cum filling you, squeezing him dry, needing every last drop as if he was your antidote to the venemous bite.

Freshly fucked dumb and pleasured. You were taken by surprise when Andy dove back down between your legs.

“You’re going to give me one more, sweetheart,” Andy stated, clearly not having gotten enough of your sweet taste.

The swipe of his tongue feels glorious, making you sob at the feeling. He hovered back over your body, kissing your lips and letting your taste your mixed pleasure.

His beard scraped your folds, while his greedy fingers pump your filled cunt. Andy drank from your pussy like it was his last drink. The swirl of his tongue circled your clit. The perfect suction on the pulsating nub. Dragging his flat tongue over your soaked hole. The sweet nectar with his cum dripping generously.

Your hands entwine themselves in his crazed hair as he vigorously pumps you with his digits. The sweet moans filled the room, as you felt the perspiration covering your body from being overstimulated.

Andy worked your pussy like a professional. His mouth not leaving your clit while his fingers did all the pounding. Curling and twisting them inside you. Your body started to spasm against his tongue when he penetrated your hole.

Drenched for just Andy as he licked you clean. Exhausting your body to the limit. Squeezing every ounce of liquid from it, like it was his mission.

Your throbbing core had pushed out all of his cum by now. The thought of him cleaning you out from his own cum made you even more aroused. Your muscles tensed up, making the ache of another orgasm even more pleasurable.

“Please andy, don’t stop.” You whined, feeling his thick tongue licking your clit.

Andy continued until your body stopped writhing. Fully saturated when your final orgasm had taken over. He pecked your cunt with his lips. Admiring it in its whole, while watching it pulsate around nothing. The ache was still there, but it was worth it.

“You did so well for me, sweetheart.” Andy smiled, leaning upwards. His body was on top of yours, pressing his lips against yours, stroking your hair as you willingly circled your legs around his waist. Locking him into your grasp with your ankles linked.

An intimate and vulnerable moment of just you and Andy. A moment that should’ve happened years ago. But now, it was too late. The damage was already done. Guilt overtaking your body.

“She’s seeing someone else.” Andy whispered softly as if he could sense your thoughts. Your eyes grew at the spoken words. How did he know that? “I’ve known for a while. She wasn’t ready to tell the family yet.”

The heavy weight on your shoulders immediately lifted your mood. His arms circling around your waist, holding your body tightly against his.

“Why didn’t you start with that news earlier?” With a balled fist you hit his arm.

He laughed and without answering he kissed you passionately like he had waited his entire life to do so.

#lilos writing #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x female!reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #chris evans smut

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pinkykats-place · 10 months

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Stories are NOT mine.

Some contain mature content.

Readers are mostly female.

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Stannis Baratheon x fem!Reader

headcanons on the relationship between Shireen Baratheon and stepmother!reader & on how the Baratheon household would change if the Reader was to marry Stannis

Headcanons for Stannis x Reader’s children

Playground (modern au)

Stannis Baratheon x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is sister to Sandor, and meets Stannis at a playground. The reader has a toddler daughter, but the father has passed away. Shireen and the daughter start playing together, so Stannis and the reader start talking too. Soon they plan a play date and the things escalate.

Imagine threatening to leave Roose and him letting it slip that he loves you (smut)

Roose being touch starved would include

A Northern Arrangement || Series

Roose Bolton x Reader

Imagine making a deal with Roose Bolton so he wont betray Robb and will actually warn Robb and everyone of the Frey’s impending betrayal.

Roose Bolton x Reader || Series

Roose being gentle with you:

Losing your virginity to Roose Bolton would include:

Imagine being in a pitch-black castle with Roose Bolton.

NSFW Alphabet with Roose Bolton

My Innocent Snowdrop

Oberyn Martell x Stark!Reader

Summary: The eldest Stark girl is forced to marry Oberyn Martell as a political alliance made by Cersei, but what she does not know is that the Prince of Dorne is a very loving man who easily falls in love with her and cherishes her deeply.

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khuzena · 1 year

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Take my heart with you

Kaiser x fem!reader♡

Summary: you're the itoshi brothers' little sister, what could go wrong if you secretly dated kaiser?

Warning: the itoshi brothers hate each other but if anyone hit on their sister they team up rq, fluff to Angst. Kaiser being a sweetheart. Rin being the better brother🔥🙌. I PROMISE IT GETS BETTER AT THE END plS I SWEAR. Kaiser professing his love for reader in the most poetic way possible 🙌 possibly OOC but we dc

A/n: this is so stupid. Let's pretend they actually understand each other 💀💀💀. I swear I tried and I really love those old Rin, Sae and reader sibling hcs or chat fics i used to see on tumblr and i was like how about i add my own twist but reader dating kaiser.

You sneaked out of the house to go on a date with Kaiser. What could go wrong?

Answer: Everything.

You arrive at the restaurant, patiently waiting for Kaiser until you feel a hand on your shoulder, flinching by surprise.

"Shall we?"

"Y-yeah…"

Michael Kaiser who treats you like a gentleman for the entire night and spoils you, getting you anything you wanted in the restaurant.

"I kinda want macaroons but it's kinda expensive—", you say, complaining to Kaiser about the prices but a waitress walks to your table and you hear him whispering something to the waiter.

"Yes, madam we'll order some macaroons"

"What."

Michael Kaiser who surprises you with a Birkin bag for your 1 year anniversary, you're still surprised Sae and Rin haven't found out about the relationship.

"I— how am I supposed to explain to my brothers I randomly got a Birkin???"

"Easy, just tell them we're dating, it's not like anything bad is going to happen" Kaiser rolls his eyes thinking what could go wrong if your two brothers found out you're dating their rival.

Michael Kaiser who wears an awkward disguise but it surprisingly works well. Though you can't help but stare at him, his eye glasses accentuate his already good looks.

"Staring at me, schatz?" He teases, intertwining both your hands as you two enjoy the scenery in front of you.

You'd be lying if you said he didn't look good in those glasses, "W-well… the glasses suit you." Shyly looking away. The two of you have been dating for a year now but you still stutter and stumble when you're caught by surprise by him again and again.

"I know" he says confidently while pushing away your bangs to place a chaste kiss on your forehead.

Michael Kaiser who takes off his disguise and leads you two in a quiet area with no other person other than you two.

"You know if I had the chance to turn back time to fix my past I wouldn't change a single thing." He chuckles before pulling you closer to him by the waist.

You raise an eyebrow, not knowing what he meant. "Huh?" He leaned down to your level, holding you close and lips inches apart from each other.

"Because if I changed something then there's a chance I wouldn't be able to meet you, I'd rather go through that pain as a young footballer rather than live my life not meeting you." He whispered, smirking at your reaction. How could he say that so casually and expect you to act normal.

Michael Kaiser who takes you shopping and promises to take you out on another date like this.

"Kaiser, I don't wanna go home yet" you muttered quietly, hugging him as he patted your back.

Kaiser smiles at you, pulling away so he can cup your face with both his hands. "I know." He pulled you into a deep kiss before your phone rang and interrupted your moment.

Your eyes widen at the contact number.

"Oh shit it's my brothers… should I check the message?"

"Its okay go ahead"

Kaiser reads the chats with you, absolutely baffled by the brothers' efforts to stalk you.

"What the fuck." You both hear behind you, it was Sae's voice.

"I swear I can explain!" Yelling at the two but it's no use when they glared daggers at you and Kaiser.

Sae forced the two of you to ride back home, talking sternly to Kaiser while driving; Rin is still mad at the betrayal but he won't admit it.

"How long have you been seeing my sister?" Sae demanded an answer, still pissed for 3 reasons.

1. Not telling Sae you're seeing someone (he just wants to keep you safe)

2. You dating Kaiser (Sae and Rin absolutely do not trust that man)

3. The traffic

Kaiser gulps, looking back at you and looking back at Sae, never had he imagined meeting your brothers face to face again like this.

"Since last year"

…

"What." Rin felt his eye twitch, his nerves popping out of anger and confusion.

You hold your boyfriend's hand nervously, the atmosphere is so dreary it feels like your skin is getting grated every second from the anxiety prickling at your skin.

"You're gonna fucking use my sister and leave her crying like shit after you're done with her? The fuck do you want with her?"

"R-rin— that's enough…"

"I'm not done yet."

Kaiser entered the Itoshi household, he knew if he chickened out or shit the brothers would never approve of him. He took his shoes off and wore the slippers you offered him, you and Kaiser sit down at the couch and it's already making you uncomfortable.

"Listen here you German shit." Sae snarls at him, Kaiser has met Sae and Rin before and used to piss the two daily at blue lock, now he regrets ever doing it because it ruined his chances of getting along with his future brother-in-laws.

Anyone could tell Sae was pissed as hell, venom seethed from his throat and he swears if he could just smash the living shit out of Kaiser he would.

On the other hand though, Rin is absolutely avoiding your gaze. He's madder than Sae because he feels like he failed as your brother. That he wasn't good enough for you to share your secret with him.

"If you break my sister's heart I'll break your limbs at the next world cup. You hear me?" The eldest brother glaring down at Kaiser, if looks could kill Kaiser would've already been dead.

"And you." Gulping as you stare at the ground when Sae mentions you, hoping that this'll all end.

"Why the fuck did you think it's a good idea to hide a relationship like this for so long?"

"Because I knew you'd blow up like this— you're always so overprotective yet you were never here with me and Rin!" The two of you went at it, insults and insults, uneasiness filling the gaps of each corner. "What the fuck do you mean never here? I was working my ass off in spain to chase my dreams- to make you and Rin's life fucking easier!"

"I never asked you to do that for me! You're the worst person ever, I wish you weren't my brother." It accidentally slips out and Sae's eyes widen. When you look back at him you could see his breathing become uneven— that look in his eyes. The look of betrayal and guilt. He was taken aback at your reply.

You burst into tears before taking Kaiser's hand, pulling him out of the Living room and going outside.

"Michael lets go." You mumbled, it was freezing but none of it mattered. Tying your shoes before taking your shit with you.

Kaiser feels like needles were stabbing his chest, it felt like it was his fault that your relationship with your brothers strained even further— if it ever existed in the first place.

He says nothing as he watches you pathetically cry and run away from the household, catching up to you while pulling you closer to him.

"Shhh it's okay, breathe."

Kaiser rubbed circles on your back as you hyperventilated; tears streaming down your cheeks as you hugged him, looking for the comfort you could never find in anyone else but him.

"I-it's all my fault— I'm sorry for dragging you into this.."

"Breathe," he raised your chin, making you stare at him. It pained him to see you breaking down in his arms like this, "Breathe in and out, it's gonna be okay."

The two of you walk to a nearby playground, hand in hand as you two sit on the swings. Kaiser looks over to you… confusion, pity and sadness coming to him all at once. Maybe it was right that he should've left you alone when you first mentioned that you were an Itoshi.

"I'm sorry… I didn't expect it to go this way— I really am sorry." Sobbing as you hugged your legs together and cried onto your knees.

Kaiser only stares at you. His mouth goes dry as his mouth was left agape, his mind racing and he wants to say something but he doesn't know the right words that he should say. He could make you feel much worse and he didn't want to add to your stress so he kept quiet.

You two stay at the playground for hours until you hear footsteps slowly coming closer.

"Go home now, please."

Your eyes were dead, tugging onto your shirt as you shivered in both anxiety and from the cold weather. "R-rin?"

Rin looks over to you then Kaiser, feeling guilt. He should've said something earlier but he's always been a coward, always been a bad brother.

"Let's go home and eat dinner. You're hungry and you Kaiser… let's talk privately later." Rin's voice was hoarse, you could tell he's been crying. You nod and stand up, walking back home with Rin as Kaiser follows behind you two.

You three entered the house quietly, making sure to not disturb Sae. Rin looks down at the cold soup he made earlier, picking it up and reheating it while you and Kaiser wait at the dining table.

"Here… beef stew." Rin places the bowl down, preparing the dinner table. You watch Rin do all the work, you tried to help him but he refused. You could tell he was trying to ease the atmosphere. "So… when did you meet my sister.?" He asked, Rin was too ashamed to look any of you in the eye.

"I met her at the Blue Lock party a year ago then…" Kaiser pauses, looking over to you for affirmation as you nod at him, "We hit it off and she was nice, we exchanged numbers and we went on a date. She mentioned she was an Itoshi and I got nervous." He continued before taking a bite of the beef.

"Oh." Rin replied, it was awkward for everyone at the dining table. Just the clanking of the utensils against their own plates and whirring sound of the electric fan can be heard. But it's better than the deafening noise of continuous fighting with Sae.

"I know we fought a lot at the world cup and Blue lock but I'm willing to put that aside for my sister." Rin trails off. Rin was never good with words but he knew if he can't make amends with your lover then he'd hurt you in the process.

Kaiser takes a deep breath, his hands still clammy and sweaty. "I— me too."

You only watch the awkward interaction between the two, you were glad they were slowly starting to get along.

"Kaiser." Rin looks over to Kaiser and they stare at each other, but it wasn't hatred in their eyes, just regret.

"Promise me you won't break my sister's heart?" Your brother asked with desperation in his voice, you're the only one he had left and he couldn't and wouldn't bear to see you heartbroken. The first he's ever seen you heartbroken was when Sae came back from spain and abandoned you two. He doesn't want to see you break down over anything— anyone, ever again.

"I would never. I've known her all my life." The two Itoshis raised an eyebrow at his bold declaration.

"When I was a child I would pick flowers off the neighbor's lawn and imagine myself giving it to the girl I would love. When I grew older I would take pictures of breathtaking sceneries and hope that maybe I could bring my soon to be lover to those places again. When I got my first check I saved enough because I hoped to god I could meet the love of my life and spoil them with everything I have." Kaiser stares down at his plate, trying to avoid their gazes but he then looks Rin straight in the eye, his eyes brimming with a fiery determination Rin swore he only ever saw from other football players when their vision narrows on the ball, like an adrenaline rush.

"And I'm sure I've known her all my life and I'll spend my life meeting and learning to love her over and over again— so please. Let me be with her. I won't ever hurt her, if I ever did I would stop playing football because I dedicated my goals just for her. If I kicked and rolled the ball without meaning I'd rather not play it at all."

Rin's always loathed Bastard München's ace, Kaiser. But he feels his heart soften at his persistence to be with his sister. Never in his life has he seen a man so dedicated to ever go after his sister. Rin hates Kaiser for sure but he promised to put their past behind just for her.

"Alright… I'll let you have my sister but… keep your promise. She's the only one I have."

Your eyes soften at the scene unfolding Infront of you, happy that the two most important people in your life are getting along but there's one person left, Sae.

You all finish eating then helping Rin clean up the table. In the corners of your eye you noticed Kaiser wiping the table. "K-kaiser you dont have to!"

"It's nothing."

"W-well… I'm gonna go upstairs and uh get my stuff…" you gave a weak smile to the two, slowly walking up the stairs to talk to Sae.

The lights were dimmed and Sae wasn't in his room. Almost stepping on a sock you looked over to Sae, he was sitting down on the staircase; his hair messy and his eyes puffy.

"What do you want?" Aggression and hostility in his voice, he looked up to you. A few hours ago at the fight, Sae was beyond pissed at you but now… he looked broken, as if he realized something.

Note: sorry if the intro was so bad i dont know how to write anymore im cryigngggg. I mean i know how to but i def downgraded compared to my past fics istg. Sorry if there are too many mistakes, I'll try my best to satisfy my readers in the next part of the fic. 🙇‍♀️ Hope you enjoyed!

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡

#blue lock x reader #blue lock fanfic #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader #itoshi rin angst #blue lock ansgt #bllk x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi sae x reader #blue lock #bllk angst #bllk fluff #what have i done #pls comment any suggestions im begging you guys #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock fluff

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whumpcember · 2 years

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Introducing Whumpcember 2022!

Everyone's heard of Whumptober or Febuwhump, Angstpril or Sicktember, but get ready for Whumpcember! Whumpcember is pretty much exactly like Whumptober or Febuwhump, except in December.

Whumpcember is born out of a love of monthly whump challenges but with zero time to complete them. I also want to complete these challenges, but never have the time! So I came to realize that, from an American perspective, December is the month I get the most time off. So, I decided to create this event for people who have too much time in December, but so little across the other 12 months. Of course, this is most definitely an American experience and not universal; so if you don't have free time during December it is still perfectly alright to participate! This event was just made to cure my December boredom, and anyone else's.

Now after that ramble, onto the actual rules:

Prompts should be answered with whump as the main focus (i'll let angst slide though, since it's similar enough to whump)

Fanfic! Gif! Text post! Fanart! Fan video! Any piece of media that you can possibly make that has whump counts!

You can use the prompts any time! Don't feel the need to rush

Though, prompts answered during December will most likely be reblogged

Post anywhere! AO3, Wattapad, Tumblr, or even Fanfic.Net! So as long as you make a Tumblr post with a link to the answered prompt it may be reblogged.

When posting onto Tumblr you can either @/ the blog or tag with #whumpcember2022 and the day's tag, such as #whumpcember2022 day1

Don't forget to add any warnings necessary, such as NSFW or sexual content

At the end of the month a masterpost will go out to all participants and a badge you can save stating that you are either a participant or completionist. In order to be on the masterpost though, you will have to fill out a google form at the end of month; don't worry it'll take two minutes!

I hope everyone has a fun time during the event! And if you have any questions shoot me an ask through the ask box!

(this is also my first year running this event, expect a hiccup or two)

Written Prompt List Below

-Main Prompts-

Day 1: Hypothermia

Day 2: Avalanche

Day 3: Storm

Day 4: Shortness of Breath

Day 5: “I hate you!”

Day 6: Separated

Day 7: Scars

Day 8: Faked Death

Day 9: Sacrifice

Day 10: “I won’t leave you”

Day 11: Clothing That Doesn’t Fit

Day 12: Broken Bone

Day 13: Fear of the Unknown

Day 14: Shaking

Day 15: “You’re A Monster”

Day 16: Bad Luck

Day 17: Icy Deep

Day 18: Betrayal

Day 19: Electricity

Day 20: “It’s Too Late”

Day 21: Self-Hate

Day 22: Closing In

Day 23: Stumbling

Day 24: Anticipation

Day 25: “Shouldn’t You Be Happy?”

Day 26: Free Falling

Day 27: Crash Landing

Day 28: Explosion

Day 29: Failure

Day 30: The End Is Nigh

Day 31: Slow Healing

-Alts-

Alt 1. Nightmares

Alt 2. Desperation

Alt 3. Deal With The Devil

Alt 4. Accidental Injury

Alt 5. “I Won’t Help You”

Alt 6. Revenge

Alt 7. Lashing Out

Alt 8. Secrets

Alt 9. On The Run

Alt 10. “I Would Die For You”

#whumpcember2022 #whumpcember2022 prompt list #whumpcember #whump #prompts

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mysteria157 · 2 months

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Fic Masterlist

Pairing: Black Fem Reader x Hitman Toji Fushiguro

Genre: Hitman AU, Romance, Thriller (sort of? I'm not James Patterson...)

CW: Profanity, Alcohol Use, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Medical Emergencies, Betrayal, Family and Childhood Trauma, Violence (He's a hitman so...), I'll have more detailed CWs with each chapter, MINORS DNI

Summary:

“I’m only going to say this one more time, Toji. I don’t do situationships. I don’t do friends with benefits or the occasional hookup. You want more? I want you to try. Earn me.”

His hands are so bloody, that if you ever knew the source, you wouldn’t want someone like him to try. He shouldn't be here, taking up so much of your time, asking for more. But he's selfish.

-or; Toji, a notorious hitman, moves to America for more money and a better life for his son. He didnt expect to sleep with you, let alone want more. When his dangerous life catches up to him, he takes on one final lucrative hit, but realizes this target has unseen connections hitting closer to home. Now he must navigate a perilous job while desperately keeping his criminal double life hidden from you.

Authors Notes: Hello! After rewriting the plot, I'm finally comfortable enough to share this story. It's a continueation from Maneater, so while it is not necessary, reading Maneater as a prologue will definitely help set the tone for the story! This is my first attempt at writing something a little more heavy, so go easy on me.

As always: likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated. Happy reading!

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, reupload or modify my work to other accounts and platforms. please ask before translating any of my works! If you find any of my work posted on other platforms besides ao3 and tumblr and it is NOT myself, please let me know.

| Twitter | Ao3| JJK Masterlist

Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon

Header: made by myself with art from Pinterest

Chapters

Prologue: Maneater (One Shot) *Posted!*: A glimpse of how you and Toji meet for the first time. ~Plot that explores a little of reader's background and smut.~

Chapter One (Posted!): Despite the uncertainty of something new in your life, you say yes when Toji asks you out.

Chapter Two (Posted) Toji is cold and calculated with his hits, and beneath that hard exterior is a man with a dark past.

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

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phoenixyfriend · 9 months

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My sister keeps telling me to monetize my tumblr if I regularly have posts with decent numbers of notes and I tried to explain to her that even the biggest names on tumblr (we were talking about vaspider and seananmcguire due to the scooby post getting some traction) don't really make a living off of it, and brand deals aren't a thing on here, and it's not exactly a Thing to transfer followership from this platform to others where it's more expected (insta, tiktok, etc).

And she keeps urging me to do it and I'm just like No, That's Not How Tumblr Works, Nobody Will Trust Me And I'll Lose All My Audience If I Try To Monetize In Any Way Other Than Direct Products Or Begging For Donations, Because Brand Deals And Similar Are Viewed As A Betrayal Of The Tumblr Standard

#tumblr #monetization #personal #family

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orionsangel86 · 2 months

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Mary & George

So we finally have the show we have been asking for since 2016 (I went back and checked my old posts to make sure and it was indeed 2016 where the "British King Can't Stop Promoting His Boyfriend" post did the rounds).

How did it fair in reality? Well, its hardly Tumblr friendly fanfiction - though it was certainly raunchy - at least at the start. This show was scandalous, sexy, rather filthy at times (in a good way), and absolutely stunning in terms of its production and costume design for sure. It falls very much in line with the expectations of modern period dramas in a post Game of Thrones world where we have shows like The Great, and movies like The Favourite gracing our screens far more regularly than endless fucking retellings of Henry the Eighth which are so fucking common I have even been in one of them myself (sorry - my bitter hatred for stories about Henry VIII and his bloody wives is difficult to restrain).

So FINALLY getting a show set during the reign of James I and VI of England and Scotland and his love affair with the Duke of Buckingham is definitely a breath of fresh air.

But its definitely not the beautiful queer love story tumblr might have hoped for when we all first saw that post.

Nope. If you're looking for a happy tale of queer love overcoming adversity, stick with Red, White, and Royal Blue. Mary & George is not a love story. Its a story of scheming manipulative people who will do anything to get money and power. It's a story that uses sex as a weapon and a tool for personal gain. There is no fluffy romance to be found here, no sweet queer love story and no happy ever after.

I mean, this IS the British monarchy we're talking about, during an extremely dark and horrific period of our history only a short time before the country was plunged into Civil War and a King lost his head. But you've been warned anyway. All you'll find here is brutality, betrayal and eventual death.

Regardless of that, this show was fucking brilliant. The first three episodes in particular are quick witted and hilarious and refuse to shy away from treating queer sex scenes any differently to straight ones. The full frontal male nudity that crops up was also a pleasant surprise - I'm happy that cinema has generally accepted a more balanced approach to nudity nowadays - also a surprise was the lesbian romance which was probably the only genuine romance in the entire show. It leaves you wondering throughout but by the final few episodes its clear that if any love is "true" in this show, its the love between Mary and Sandie.

I absolutely adored Julianne Moore in this as Mary Villiers, who ruthlessly claws her way into power and money through schemes, seductions, betrayals, murders, and anything else you can think of. But even with all of this, I can't help but root for her. Who doesn't want to root for a scheming lesbian and her lover as they manipulate everyone around them and ensure they always get the better of the horrible men that make up King James' court? In this house we support Womens Wrongs.

As far as George goes, Nicholas Galitzine is brilliant as a beautiful but dim mummy's boy in the first few episodes, throwing tantrums and pouting with perfection. He shines in the later episodes as the arrogant and powerful Duke who believes he is practically untouchable due to his hold over the King, whilst still showing through the vulnerability underneath where that relationship remains precarious. The underlying joke of the show is that everyone wants George, and George wants everyone. He's a slutty slutty man.

You know how tumblr has a tendency to split queer stories into one of two camps - either pure sweet romantic love stories or very bad evil messy queer stories? (a gross simplification but you get what I mean) Well Mary and George falls firmly in the second camp. I enjoyed it for what it was, but I was a bit dissapointed that the general approach and belief of the storytellers here is that George used the King for personal gain, that the King was nothing more than a hedonistic fool who let his favourites manipulate him, and that any actual love between them was shallow and fleeting. Its all extremely cynical.

Especially since we know its not true. the surviving letters we have between King James and George paint a much more romantic picture, one where love was definitely a significant factor in their affair. Yes, historians love to play down queer history as best they can, but I don't believe that George Villiers was quite the manipulative little slut this show makes him out to be.

And yeah, sure, we can laugh and dismiss any true history involved. Its just a story after all? It was a bloody good story and one I enjoyed, but was it a fair portrayal of the actual men involved? Probably not - then again, the actual men involved weren't very nice anyway, and the show glossed over a lot of King James' more infamous sins. His obsession with witches and demons leading to the horrifying witch trials throughout the country were completely left out. There was also no mention of the famous King James Bible - the one that heavily emphasised any passages alluding to homosexuality being a sin which is used so frequently even today by religious zealots to persecute gay men. The Sodomy laws during King James' reign were enforced with such brutality that they brought us the slur "f*gg*t" (which I'm not explaining here). Yet the show displays acts of sodomy as such a normal part of court life that you'd almost think it wasn't totally punishable by death.

I shouldn't complain. Especially not about the lack of homophobia. Its a great show. You should watch it. But take it with a pinch of salt. The true story of James and George was probably one with a lot more secrecy involved, a lot more sneaking about in the night (after all, why build a secret passage between their bedrooms if they weren't trying to hide it?) and therefore a lot more hypocrisy on the part of the King.

There are some very touching scenes between King James and George, and I feel the show attempted to portray the relationship between them as complex and multilayered, but I'm not sure it succeeds as well as I would have hoped. But perhaps I am just a silly tumblr romantic who likes her queer love stories to actually include genuine love within them, and I always hoped that any story about King James and George would focus on how that love grew over time. Because whilst George obviously went along with things initially for personal gain, I think the evidence we have at least gives an indication that he did love the King, and the King clearly loved George, and I am interested in a story about how they navigated that love at a period of time where it did need to be kept secret, even if it was a fairly open secret, where things such as the King James Bible and the Witch Trials would have affected them, and where George's rise to power would have caused so much conflict and anger within the court.

But regardless of all that, I still loved the show. Its still worth the watch. The gays deserve more messy sexy dramas where they get to be ruthless and powerful and slutty and murderous. Its excellent viewing for all.

Ultimately though, I may have came for the gay duke and his love affair with the King, but I stayed for the lesbians. The lesbians were awesome.

#JusticeForSandie

#mary and george #mary and george review #my reviews #queer media #king james and george villiers

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munariplans · 1 year

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hey! idk if you’re taking requests but this is kind of a suggestion bc i don’t have a plot or anything but you’re a good writer and i think you’d kill it with a single mom!reader x mean ceo/lawyer!nat i think the whole class difference and maternity would be nice to see nat learning how to navigate them.

-🎈

hi 🎈 anon!

thank you for the request / suggestion, wrote a shorter fic with this one but hopefully it lives up to expectations! sorry for the longer wait, i was away on holiday for a while and didn't have access to tumblr on my laptop.

hope you're doing well!

lena | n. romanoff

ceo! natasha romanoff x single mother! reader word count: 3.2k

‘Where are you? Everyone else is here already.’

‘Did you get stuck in traffic? Even Bill’s wife, the third one, who’s coming from a flight from Washington’s arrived. Reply me.’

‘Are you ignoring me?’

By the third undelivered text, Natasha had had enough. She quietly excused herself from the group of investors she had been speaking to, set her drink down, and headed to the balcony to call you. There was anger, a sense of betrayal even, and if she dared herself feel it, a twinge of worry for you standing her up, as well.

But she swallowed all those thoughts down, as the phone began to ring. It was connected, and rang once, twice, before the dial tone went dead and her call abruptly ended. She stared back at the dark screen of her phone, confusion written on her features, and sighed frustratedly. This was an important fundraising gala. This was where the company was finally going to accomplish the funds needed to build the new headquarters outside of the United States, and this was where she had wanted to show you off to the world.

You were her arm candy, her prize, but tonight…tonight you were missing from her arms.

Natasha struggled to force herself to endure the rest of the night without you by her side. All she had wanted to do was to come find you, to make sure that you were okay to berate you for standing her up, but instead she had to sit through another round of ribbon cuttings, expensive, tasteless champagnes, and meaningless small talk with the ultra wealthy just to rub shoulders even more. It was torture, and nothing could quell the worry anger in the back of her mind.

So when the clock finally struck eleven and the festivities had relatively died down, she was the first to leave the venue; ordering her chauffeur to drive straight to your apartment. The trip was silent, and even the elderly man could sense the tension radiating from his boss’ shoulders at that moment.

Bursting through your doors exactly half an hour later, Natasha saw the abandoned party gown she had picked out for you laid across your stained couch, along with the new heels she had bought still in the designer box she had bought them from, and she knew you never even bothered to actually come for the gala.

She screamed for your name, knocking down the doors to each room in the tiny apartment, making a mess with each step, but she didn’t care at that point. She was livid, and you had betrayed her.

But right before she could knock down the door to the final room, the one painted baby pink and with an engraved sign reading Lena’s Room, it had clicked open and you walked out, staring at her face-to-face while shutting the door behind you.

Natasha was breathing heavily, her fists curled. She was confident she looked almost insane by then; a complete switch from the composed, sophisticated CEO she was just nearly an hour before. But you looked her up and down, and showed no signs of fear, however. You simply sighed, and nodded back towards the room.

“She’s got an unrelenting fever. Been at it since midday, the sitter told me. When I got home, her forehead’s sizzling to the touch. I just got her to bed, Natasha.”

“You didn’t come for the gala.”

“How could I?” It was your turn to fold your arms, walking past her to the living room. She followed. “Lena was so sick, Nat. I couldn’t just leave her alone for the night.”

It was then that things took a turn for the worse. What you said ticked something in Natasha, something she simply could not let go for the remainder of the night as the two of you began arguing.

“You humiliated me! In front of everyone!” Natasha had yelled, hands outstretched and veins appearing on her neck, “I was the only one without a date there, the only one!”

“What was I supposed to do?” You retorted, “My phone was dead, and forgive me if I managed to miss out on it once, because I was busy taking care of my sick child!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you could’ve texted me!”

“It still wouldn’t have changed things!”

Natasha had moved two steps from the kitchen counter to the sofa, where you were seated, still in your nurse scrubs and hair tied in a bun. You looked absolutely exhausted, and the tone in your voice was well over the point of wanting to go on with the argument. Natasha knew the bags under your eyes had not only come from the numerous shifts at the hospital, but also the responsibility of taking care of a toddler all alone as well.

But she had gone too far now. She couldn’t back down. “You stood me up! You stood me up when you could’ve sent her to a friend, or called the sitter back to take care of her for just a few hours more, couldn’t you? Or did you never want to come to the gala to support me anyway?”

She saw you pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head. “Natasha…”

“Fuck, I bet the kid’s not even sick. She probably just wanted attention, and you so kindly spoil her with everything, of course she can manipulate you for this too!”

But at that point, small sniffles could be heard from the corner of the room, and the both of you looked up at the same time. Your daughter had apparently climbed out of bed, still hugging her stuffed animal, and at the sight of her staring up at the two of you, tears flowing down her face, Natasha felt a surge of guilt wash over what she had just said. Though she knew Lena probably could not grasp all of the words she had been saying, to see you immediately stand and scoop her up in your arms to get her away from Natasha was hurtful enough.

“Mama fight? With Aunty Nat?” Had been her exact words, to which you pressed your hand against her forehead and shushed her quietly to coax her back to sleep.

“No, sweetheart. We’re fine, Mama and Aunty Nat are fine. Let’s go back to bed, okay? Your fever’s still high.”

But Lena peeked through your arms to see Natasha, then up to your face, and Natasha caught her rubbing something from your face too. “Why Mama cry?”

Oh. That had done it. Natasha knew she was fucked, and she had hurt both you and your daughter with the way she had stormed in tonight and began accusing the both of you things that were never true. All because she was too headstrong to listen to anyone’s reasons but her own, all because she was too insecure and possessive over you.

“Darling,” Natasha began, but you stopped her, hand begging her not to follow the both of you to Lena’s room.

“Please, Natasha, just leave,” you said through broken sobs, readjusting Lena to hide your face from Natasha. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning, but please…leave.”

The slam of the front door just seconds later was enough indication to show off the redhead’s frustration and anger, but you were not sure if it was directed at you, or herself.

–

Two weeks later Natasha still received an invite to a play your daughter was in, handed to her by her secretary in the middle of a lunch meeting. She secretly opened it in front of her partners, and the sense of relief and joy that spread through her had her instantly itching to call you on the phone.

“Thanks, baby, for the invitation,” she said later on, while you were on a break of your own. She could hear the roaring ambulance sirens in the background, and knew you were on a time limit. “And I’m really sorry, still, for that night.”

“It’s fine, Nat,” you reassured her, voice tired as usual. It broke Natasha’s heart to always see you working harder than anyone and receiving so little in return, but as you had always reminded her, even at the beginning of your relationship, that you were never looking for help or money from her, and that you refused to accept such as well. “Lena said she misses you as well. She wants you to be there.”

It was hard for Natasha to imagine a child could have such feelings for her. She had never grown up with the love and affection of someone so much younger, someone who looked up to her almost like an idol, and whenever Lena leaned in for kisses or ran up to her for hugs, Natasha knew you always caught her stiffening; an involuntary reflex she hoped you would forgive her for.

But it had been almost two years since you and Natasha had been going out, and even the billionaire knew that you were not going to wait forever for someone who was not going to love Lena as much as you did.

So she swallowed her fears, and replied, “That’s nice. Tell her…I miss her too.”

She could feel you smiling from the other end. “Will do. I love you, Nat.”

“I love you too.”

–

The night of the play, with the both of you sat huddled in the dimly lit school theatre and watching Lena dance around as a sunflower with a group of other little flowers and animals, Natasha watched as your eyes lit up each time the spotlight came on your daughter, and how you would excitedly hold her hand and point Lena out to her throughout the duration of the show. She also watched as Lena continuously looked out at the crowd for the both of you, and how her eyes, reflected in yours, lit up the same way yours did when she found the two of you too. The woman couldn’t help but give a small wave as well whenever Lena grinned at her.

“Mama! Aunty Nat!” Lena screamed at the end of the play, running over to the both of you as you picked her up and peppered kisses all over her face. The little girl basked in the love and laughter from her mother.

“You were amazing, sweetheart. The best there is,” you said to her, still holding her tight, as Natasha allowed herself to sneak a kiss to Lena’s cheek. “Mama is so proud of you.”

Then Lena turned to Natasha, and grinned at her. “And Aunty Nat too?”

Natasha caught your eyes, and smiled reassuringly. “Of course. Aunty Nat is more proud than your Mama, even!”

–

When you finally tucked her in that night, Lena’s eyes full of the world and the stars in the sky, you pressed a final kiss to her forehead, and muttered a I love you before leaving her room. Natasha was in the living room, watching the news on your old, jacked up television, bottle of expensive wine in hand.

“Anything good?” You settled beside her, her arms instinctively reaching out to wrap around you.

She shrugged. “It’s the news. How’s Lena?”

“Still buzzing from the night earlier, but who can blame her? You really went all out with the pizza and ice cream after the play, she’s the happiest she’s been in weeks. Especially since…”

Especially since the apartment had its electricity cut off for a full day earlier in the week, because you couldn't pay the bills on time. Natasha stiffened. “...You know, you should always tell me, if these kind of things happen again.”

“I can get by on my own, Nat. I don’t want your charity, remember?” You sighed, signalling the end of the conversation before it spiralled into another argument.

In an attempt to smooth over the tension, Natasha offered, “We should go on a vacation soon.”

But all you responded with was a mirthless chuckle. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Why?”

“Natasha, I can’t just go on a vacation,” you chimed, “I’ve got shifts at the hospital, bills to pay, and Lena’s far too young to travel any time soon.”

The woman in front of you furrowed her brows. “Who said Lena’s coming?”

You had to do a double take to ensure you heard her right. “Why wouldn’t Lena be coming?”

“I just thought, since she’s with her father on some weekends, we could let her stay there for a little longer. A week, two weeks, perhaps? Just some alone time, you know, you and me. Could help us get away from the stress and troubles of work for a while.”

Natasha felt you stiffen, before your touch was abruptly pulled away from her. “Natasha, where is all this coming from?!”

“Come on, you can’t tell me that you’re not stressed.”

“I am, but Lena is not the source of it!” You retorted, standing up. Natasha had gone into a protective pose too by then. “I can’t just leave her at her dad’s whenever it’s convenient. You and I know what kind of person he is!”

“But baby–”

“–I’m not leaving Lena and that’s final!” You half-screamed, not caring if the neighbours could hear, or if you were hurting Natasha’s feelings by then. “Nat, she is and will always be my top priority, and if you can’t handle that, if you can’t handle sharing a top spot in my heart with her…I can’t be with you.”

There was silence, lasting for a minute or two, as you breathed in heavy gulps of air, while Natasha sat, fiddling with the clasp of her watch, thinking of what to say, or do.

So you continued, “You can’t use money to figure your way out of this one, Nat. To make your problems…just disappear. Not with this.”

“You’re giving me an ultimatum?” Natasha looked at you then, eyes tearing up too.

Your heart squeezed in part longing, part regret, but you had to stand strong. You had to put your family first. “Yes. So please, I need you to make a decision, because I can’t keep going on like this. And it’s not fair for you to stay in this relationship if it's just for me, and not Lena, too.”

You caught the woman before you shaking her head, letting her tears fall onto her lap, refusing to wipe them away. But as soon as the moment of vulnerability appeared, it went away just as fast, as Natasha abruptly stood, brushing past you, made her way to the door and slammed it on her way out.

Lena did not need to hear your cries of anguish and betrayal that night, sobbed into the pillows you and Natasha so often shared the past two years, all gone by then.

–

Sat by the park bench the two of you used to frequent, Natasha allowed her tears to flow once more; an indication of her grief of the past two years, an indication of the life she had just thrown away. Perhaps it would also have been an indication of the loss of the best thing that could ever happen to her after all.

A child was playing with his mother at the swings nearby, looking no older than Lena was. Their laughter the only thing audible through the ringing in Natasha’s ears. She watched her pick him up, carry him around to the other playground equipment, and her smile and eyes reminded Natasha of you.

You, who always assured Natasha that she was doing right by Lena, that she was good at being a mother too. You, who patiently taught her how to prepare food for Lena, how to put on her socks and tie her braids that she so very much loved, even how to deal with the temper tantrums that stressed her out, but never you. You, who made Natasha believe she deserved to be happy as a mother, too.

Natasha thought of all the times you would come home after your shifts to not only take care of Lena, but also make time for her, too. How you would sacrifice your own time and energy to try to balance the two of them and their needs; and Natasha cringed. It should never have to be between them, she shouldn’t have had to make you choose. And she shouldn’t have been so selfish, should have made compromises, as you have, when being the girlfriend of a billionaire CEO with a schedule as jam packed as hers.

She wonders if she’s fucked it all up. She wonders if she’s too late. There was only one way to find out.

–

“Can we get ice cream, Mama?” Lena’s big, curious eyes always made your heart soft, and gave you a hard time denying her.

You brushed back a strand of her hair, and nodded. “Of course darling, anything for you.”

Though, as the both of you arrived at the usual ice cream shop that you, her, and Natasha frequented, you found yourself cursing as you checked the contents of your wallet, clearly forgetting that payday was still in a week. Lena was already eagerly eyeing the flavours, and you knew her usual order was a premium.

“Hey, Lena, sweetheart,” you called out to her, “Mama’s a little short on cash today. We’ll just have your ice-cream, yeah? I’m not hungry.”

Your daughter pouted, but in return, you gave her your most upbeat smile, and readjusted the straps on her backpack. “Just this once. And I’ll ask them to give you an extra big scoop, so you can eat for the both of us!”

But her gaze was somewhere behind, and before you could follow it, Lena was already pointing to a person behind you, screaming, “Aunty Nat!”

You caught Natasha’s gaze through the shop windows, and there she was, big bouquet of flowers in hand, dressed in the blouse Lena had picked for her when you went shopping once, and sporting the most uncertain grin on her face.

You scooped Lena up protectively, preventing her from running straight to Natasha, but Natasha had only come forward, keeping a distance safe enough for you, but close enough for you to hear what she had to say.

“I’m sorry,” she started, moving one of her thumbs to reveal a smaller bouquet of flowers behind the large ones, in Lena’s favourite sunflowers, “I fucked everything up.”

You nodded, but did not say anything.

“I realise it now, even though I’ve always known, but…I’m here, baby. For the long run, for the long haul, for everything. With both you, and Lena. I cannot imagine a life without either of you, and I’m very sorry for having made you choose between us in the past. If you give me a chance, just one last chance, I will show you how sorry I am, and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

Lena was reaching out for the sunflowers, and sighing, you allowed her to. Setting her down, she ran towards Natasha and the woman instinctively picked her up, peppering kisses on her face like you so often did. In response, you took the bigger bouquet, and gave her a soft smile.

“So you’re not leaving us, Nat?”

Natasha shook her head furiously, pressing a kiss to your cheek too. “Never. Sorry, again, for making you think otherwise.”

“I’ll try harder, I’ll make more time for the both of you,” she assured, “Tell me how I can make things up to you, my love.”

You pecked her on the lips, still feeling the passion and love even after weeks of separation. “You can start by buying Lena and I ice cream for today. Let’s go.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #angst with a happy ending #angst with fluff

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sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog · 1 year

Note

I was listening to a Dear Hank & John episode from November, and you said Hank joining tumblr was "the single biggest betrayal of [your] love and trust." Which I found very funny

Yes, that was a joke, but it was a joke with an edge.

I have been trying to figure out what to do with my Tumblr Feelings for over 10 years now. What a funny thing! I feel quite immature about still having so many Tumblr Feelings after all these years, but life is weird! You grow out of things you do not expect to grow out of (like a fear of abandonment, say), but you do not grow out of things you expect to grow out of (like having an abundance of contradictory feelings of regret and heartbreak and confusion and worry about the website tumblr dot com).

#coffee company #holding competing ideas in one's mind without cracking up

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robby-bobby-tommy · 6 months

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I haven't watched purgatory streams cuz I am too busy rn, but here's some hcs

- Only emotionally charged scars stay on the body. Like both Phil and Fit have their scars because they felt so betrayed. The other wounds heal with respawn.

- Fit thought that Pac not only helped to kill him, but also agreed to be a bait to lure 2b2t veteran in a trap. After this "betrayal" Fit's eyes change.

- as a dumbahh who watched arcane, I really like the idea of eye changing with emotional stability. Like powder — blue/grey eyes, Jinx — pink eyes. So I have a HC that after the incident Fit's usually brown eyes change to almost toxic green eyes.

- Fit has severe PTSD about 2b2t. The betrayal triggered it and now he doesn't trust people.

- also Fit has 2b2t gravured in his prosthetic arm/gauntlet.

- every time étoiles kills someone, they have a star shaped scar.

- Phil has star shaped scar. Also the majority of his scars from nightmare and code fight. Also some from earth smp.

- Phil had a very speedy, flying oriented battle type. Now he has a different fighting skills, but likes to attack from above (using paraglider)

- Fit's battle skills are way more grounded, he puts way more force in his punches and swings. He also used to fight with only gauntlets/bare hands, so he's a master of hand-to-hand combat.

- Étoiles is just a goat, but he's something in between. He's also very grounded, but is jumpy.

- Roier is a funny but quiet kid, when it comes to battles. Nobody expects it, but he's a pro. He's super good at breaking through shields and at unarming opponent.

- Fit and Phil train together, and it's fun. But sometimes when crowza accidentally triggers PTSD, Fits fighting style suddenly changes. He now doesn't fight to better his skills, he fights to survive. His punches become more chaotic and heavy. They both apologize later.

- Jaiden is literally "I'm a helpless little girl. And j set the building on fire by accident, tooootaly by accident. Also I brought this dynamite. Goodbye:)" And then everything blows up. She's the epitome of "act weak when you're strong".

- Pol (i sadly haven't watched any of his streams cuz of language barrier, but I think he deserves more recognition) only pretends being oblivious and indifferent towards federation. Like he's the first person from all frozen members to remember his past and cooperate with cucurucho.

- I kinda feel like Rubius is one of the old residents of the island.

- Aypierre is Ayanami Rei (/j but I honestly don't understand his lore. I use Tumblr as a news channel and I still don't know what happened to Pierre. Is he ayrobot? Do they now share a body???)

- after the nether Forevers hair go to shoulders.

- Rubius once was just a man. He was an original old resident. After a few years of working with people on the server he was promoted to an angel/devil entity. For it was funny at first, but soon enough it became boring, cuz he wasn't allowed to interact with people apart giving them quests. So he disguised himself as a man and left the island. Later he came back on train with everyone. For escaping and messing with people, giving them illegal stuff ect he was demoted and "fell from heaven". (This HC has literally no reasons, but I like it.

- Carre likes to stretch like a cat.

- team bollas sleep close to each other, but don't go under blankets, cuz in their base there's literal lava above the celling.

- Fit is severely touch starved but he doesn't always trusts enough. During qsmp he became more affectionate, and started to initiate touching. He always puts his hand of someone's shoulder to comfort them (baby steps). I don't feel like after purgatory this stays like that.

- it's not my headcanon, but I adore when people draw Bagi muscular. Like, I dunno why. But I love it so much.

- Missa is a real skeleton, so when death duo reunited for the first time, Phil literally detached wet cat's skull from the neck, yelling "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN"

- Some people have things that represent their close ones. Phil has skull, trinket (is it how it called?) of his kids on his back, flowers from forever, star keychain from étoiles and a bomb from Fit. Fit has Philza's feather, a necklace with a pacman on it, a bolt from Tubbo, and Ramon modifies his arm a lot. Ect ect.

- waaaay back when Slime went on a rampage after Juana's death, Fit called him to a tête-à-tête dialogue. At first he pushed Slime to the tree and put elbow on his neck, but during Charlie's monologue he let his guard down and even wanted to place his hand on the shoulder. Yet before that they were interrupted by Roier. (Also Charlie asking advice and trusting Fit all this time was quite sweet. Like, he even asked advice when dead eggs came back)

- during purgatory Phil balances himself with weapons.

- Charlie always suspected CodeFlippa wasn't the real one, but he deliberately chose to ignore that. Ignorance is a blessing.

- gladiator by Jann but Étoiles, you see what I see???

- Phil and Fit are terrible sleep bros. When they went to adventures with kids and had to sleep in the open, Fit couldn't sleep, listening to players steps, and Phil tried to figure out mobs. Also they play footsie (they said it on one stream, this is cannon. I really dunno are they besties or homos anymore)

- one of the ways to know if an avian on the server is sick is to see how their feathers react to water. If I'm correct, irl birds have a special stuff on them to not get wet. Only birds with sickness appear to be wet (mb not all birds are like that, I don't remember)

- just "are we still sisters?" Dialogue from arcane but Bagi and Cellbit

- everyone has bags under the eyes

That's all for now.

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cupidjyu · 11 months

Text

kiss me, sweetheart

hyunjae x reader (request, anon you are so sexy for requesting this i love you)

genre: JEALOUS HYUNJAE. best friends to lovers, college au but barely mentioned, kissing, feelings realization, pining, like minimal angst, i think u guys makeout tbh, getting together, flirting, he calls you "sweetheart” notes: welcome to the new era of yumi finally using caps on tumblr! let me know how you like it :) i'm sorry to the people who prefer the lowercase, but this is my blog hehe word count: 3.9k (i definitely went overboard with this fic oops)

“If you don’t hurry up, I will die of starvation,” You heard a voice call out from behind.

You turned around and your first thought was to smack Hyunjae straight in the chest with the bag that you were currently shopping at the bookstore with. And so, you did. Unfortunately, though, you forgot that it was made of an incredibly hard, plastic-y material so it made a loud “bong” against his body.

“That’s going to leave a bruise.”

“Oops,” You winced. But after, you simply shrugged. “That’s what you get for rushing me though.”

“It’s been like thirty minutes,” He whined. “You promised that we would try the waffle place on the next block. And you know how huge this campus is.”

You pouted as you stared at the many unexplored aisles of the store before groaning, “Fine. You’re lucky that we’re best friends or else I would be punching you so hard right now.”

“You can definitely try, sweetheart,” He smirked. You scowled, knowing just how much he loved to call you by that name. In a platonic way, of course.

Everything about the two of you was platonic. You two were like peas in a pod who met way back in middle school and have done everything together all the way up until university. You’ve watched each other’s achievements and been through hardships together. Going through breakups, getting rejected, failing driver tests, throwing up from being drunk, you’ve done it all… together.

Now, you were walking with Hyunjae down the sidewalk when suddenly you heard a yelp from him. You turned and you were met with the sight of someone tackling your best friend from the back.

“Are you just going to ignore me or what?” The other man hollered in his ear. “Don’t tell me you’re too embarrassed to see your dear football teammate in public. You’re the captain of the team too!”

Hyunjae pried him off, completely out of breath. “Sunwoo.”

“Yes, cap’n?”

“Don’t bother me again, especially when I’m with someone right now,” He gestured to you.

Sunwoo turned to you with realization, “Oh. So you’re Y/n? Captain’s best friend?”

You nodded, smiling politely. “I think I’ve heard much about you, Sunwoo.”

“Good things, I hope?”

You cringed, “No, not really.” Sunwoo shot a glare at Hyunjae at that. After, he bluntly pushed himself into the space between you and your best friend. He swung an arm around Hyunjae’s waist and the other arm around your shoulders, suddenly bringing you all closer to the center.

He let out a sigh. “Nothing better than spending time with loved ones, am I right?” He joked with a glint in his eye.

Hyunjae sighed, his eye twitching with annoyance, “You weren’t even invited.”

Sunwoo scowled, “Shush. Y/n won’t mind, right?”

Hyunjae knew that you were too nice to say no so he practically gave up. You offer a simple, “Mhm!” as you gave him an awkward smile. You made eye contact with Hyunjae, who had rolled his eyes at Sunwoo with an obvious pout. You giggled.

Sunwoo shifted closer, “Did you buy anything? Or, better question, did Hyunjae pay?”

“No, since someone wanted to rush me,” You huffed. “And do you really think he’s the type to pay? He loves saving his money for himself.” You laughed to yourself, knowing this would definitely get him worked up.

As expected, Hyunjae gasped in betrayal. He was about to protest but that was when his eyes zeroed in on how Sunwoo’s arm was wound tightly around your body, his hand resting warmly on your shoulder. He paused, a tight feeling growing in a deep pit of his stomach.

He was unsure of what it is.

For some reason, he didn’t have the urge to talk anymore. He just quietly watched as Sunwoo leaned closer and closer, smiling his very charming smile. He even let go of Hyunjae, instead only turning his attention to you, making you laugh and smile.

Hyunjae felt his eyebrows furrow when Sunwoo approached even closer to your face, just mere inches from your lips. He knew that Sunwoo loved to flirt. It was part of his personality. But something about when he does it with you… is different. At that moment, something just took over him, as he used all of his football-playing strength to suddenly grab Sunwoo by the back of his collar and drag him back to his side, slightly choking him in the process.

“Ow– what was that for?” Sunwoo pouted, rubbing his neck.

“You’re being obnoxious.”

“How so?”

Now, Hyunjae was at a loss for words. Why was he so annoyed? Why did he feel like he could just punch something at that moment?

“I– I don’t know. But just lay off…”

Sunwoo stared at him funnily before shrugging. The tension was interrupted when they heard your gasp from far away.

“This is so cute!” You excitedly pointed at a plushie displayed in a nearby store. You quickly abandoned the two men and went to find it.

The two of them were now left together, just standing there awkwardly with no idea what to do. It was incredibly quiet, not a word spoken. Usually, they talk a lot, since they’re on the same team and have mutual friends. But now, Hyunjae feels sour, a grudge forming against his fellow teammate. Finally, Sunwoo broke the ice.

“Hey, cap.” He nudged his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Y/n’s cute,” Sunwoo smiled. “Are they dating anyone right now?”

Hyunjae froze. “No, I don’t think so, or else they would have told me.”

“Hm,” Sunwoo seemed deep in thought. “Okay! I’ll see you guys later then. Or preferably, I’ll see Y/n later.” He had the audacity to wink after.

Hyunjae stared after him, unsure of what to feel. But, he quickly shook off the burning feeling. It’s probably a stomachache.

That night, Hyunjae went to sleep fairly early since he had a morning class the next day. He did his usual routine of scrolling through social media and setting up his bed. From the long hours of walking with you by his side, he already began to feel drowsy. And so, as soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep.

Hyunjae isn’t the type of person to dream a lot. Or, at least, he doesn’t remember them. But on that particular night, he dreamed.

He dreamed of you.

His brain was quite accurate when it came to creating an image of you. Your eyes, your hair, it got it all down perfectly. He was sure it was you. He could recognize the slope of your nose, your cheeks, and your pretty lips. Wait– pretty? Since when did he think that?

Though what really bothered him, was that the dream with you wasn’t a typical best friend dream. It wasn’t a day at the amusement park or the movie nights that he usually had with you. His dream was more of a love story.

And it wasn’t a love story with you and him as the main characters. It was you and Sunwoo.

He seemed to play no part in this love story, just completely invisible as if he was the reader of a book. He also was conveniently placed outside the balcony of your apartment. He winced, kind of creepy, he knows. But besides the point, he’s invisible! He was frozen on the spot as he watched you sit down with Sunwoo on the couch. His fellow teammate was smiling at you, and again, he wound his arm around you. But this time, he started cuddling you. You nuzzled your cheek into his chest as he leaned his chin on the top of your head with a satisfied smile.

“I missed you,” He heard you say to him, making him want to revolt for some odd reason.

“Missed you too, baby.”

Hyunjae wanted to cover his eyes and fall to the floor at that moment.

But what really shocked Hyunjae, was that he later leaned in and kissed you. Not on the cheek, but right on the lips. Hyunjae couldn’t move, since he had no control over his body. He could just watch, as your lips moved in unison, deepening it until it turned into a bit of a makeout, Sunwoo’s hands all over your body.

Hyunjae woke up moments later, in a sweat. He looked down at his shaky hands.

He had just dreamed of you kissing his friend and he hated it.

He loathed it so much and he has no idea why.

“Are you okay?” Juyeon, his other dear teammate, appeared by his side the next morning handing him a bottle of water. Hyunjae took it without a smile.

“I’m great, why?”

“You seem out of it,” The younger shrugged.

Hyunjae sighed, looking down at the ground. He just couldn’t seem to get it out of his head. The way you kissed Sunwoo with so much passion in his dream, the way your hands roamed over his chest, and the way your eyes were dazed. He hated how it made him feel. He couldn’t even figure out what he was feeling.

Juyeon was about to walk away when Hyunjae decided to ask for advice.

“Wait, Juyeon,” He called out.

“Hm?”

“I need to ask you something… for a friend,” He looked away sheepishly.

“What is it?”

“I’ll give you a scenario,” He started. “If a person dreams of his best friend kissing someone else and it makes him feel horrible inside, what does it mean?”

Juyeon shrugged, “Depends. Maybe you don’t like the person that they’re kissing?”

“No, no, Sunwoo is a perfectly decent person,” Hyunjae shook his head. Then he froze, his eyes widening. “I– I shouldn’t have said his name. And how did you know I was talking about myself?”

Juyeon smirked, “I know you well enough. Then, it must mean that you don’t approve of your best friend kissing him because they should be kissing someone else.”

Hyunjae furrowed his eyebrows, completely lost, “What, so you’re saying that I think that my best friend can’t kiss anyone at all?”

“No?” Juyeon shook his head. “I mean that you’d much rather your best friend kiss someone that you want them to.” Juyeon looked at him with a mischievous smile, as if trying to get a certain point across, but Hyunjae doesn’t quite get it yet.

“Who–” He was deep in thought. “Who would I want them to kiss? My teammates? My other friends?”

“None of those.”

Hyunjae groaned in frustration, “Then who else? It’s not like I, myself would want t–” He froze, his body going rigid. Suddenly, his mind rushed back to the dream. He thought of your lips moving against Sunwoo’s and he wondered how they would feel against his own. He wondered if he could hold your waist like Sunwoo had and cup your face, making you blush. He wondered if he could–

“Oh.”

Juyeon was staring at him with amusement, “Got it?”

“I want to kiss my best friend,” He breathed out, in utter disbelief. “I– I have feelings for my best friend? And that time– with Sunwoo. That feeling was jealousy?”

“So you come to your senses,” The younger laughed.

“Juyeon, I’m doomed.”

“You’ll be fine.”

Hyunjae later learned just how hard it is to be in love with his best friend. The two of you always spend time together, but lately, it’s been hard to be around you. Every time you would smile, he couldn’t help but admire the way your eyes would close along with it. When you would pout, he would think of kissing you again. When you would laugh, his heart would beat faster. Or, when you would initiate skinship with him, he would feel like he might explode.

“Hey,” You waved in front of his face, startling him out of his thoughts. “Are you there?”

“Hm?” He faked a smile. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Okay…” You eyed him suspiciously. “Anyways, as I was saying, what do you think if I got a boyfriend?”

He blinked, “What?”

You shrugged, smiling shyly to yourself, “Some guy gave me his number the other day, and I–”

“No.”

You frowned, “Why not?”

And Hyunjae so badly just wanted to come clean. He wanted to tell you that he’s in love with you and wants you only to himself. But he couldn’t work up the courage to do so.

“I just think…” He laughed awkwardly. “He isn’t your type.”

You looked at him with curiosity, “You saw him?”

“Yeah,” He lied through his teeth.

“Oh…” You mumbled. “Okay, I guess. Oh, and Hyunjae?”

He looked at you, raising an eyebrow.

“You look handsome today,” You complimented. It was true, he had finally ditched the hoodies he usually wore because of the warmer weather, instead wearing a shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders.

“D-don’t joke around…” He gently shoved you, feeling his ears burn and his heart race. Compliments from you aren’t supposed to affect him so much, but after his revelation… everything’s different with you.

“I’m not!” You giggled. “And did you just stutter?”

“No,” He stubbornly avoided eye contact, in hopes that you wouldn’t see that he was also blushing.

“You did,” You watched in awe. “Who knew that the Hyunjae would be so shy? I like this side of you.”

“I’m not shy,” He mumbled, his cheeks turning redder by the minute.

“Sure,” You rolled your eyes. You leaned closer, batting your eyelashes. “And if I said that you’re cute?”

“I’m not cute!” He whined.

“What about tall?”

“That’s just the truth.”

“Kind?”

“Of course, I would be kind, who do you take me for?” He glared.

You thought for a moment before smiling mischievously. “What about… if I said that you’re pretty?”

He froze, suddenly going quiet. You could see that he was blushing again.

“Ah,” You smiled. “So you like being called pretty? Pretty, pretty, Hyunjae.”

And suddenly, he reached an arm out and pulled you in by the waist. You yelped, your face almost buried in his chest. You put your hand against it, but you gulped when you realized just how fast his heart was beating and also… how muscular he is.

“H-Hyunjae? What are you doing?” You looked up at him.

And oh, how he hated the way you looked up at him like a puppy. He so badly wanted to kiss the living daylight out of you, but he resisted.

“You can’t keep teasing me, sweetheart,” He tilted his head, his expression serious. “I might just do something stupid.”

You gulped, “...like what?”

He looked at your lips and licked his own. He was about to lean in but that was when he remembered that you might reject him. You were merely his best friend, nothing more. He sighed and pulled away.

“Nothing.”

What’s even worse, is avoiding his best friend. He had realized that the more time he spent with you, the more painful it was for him to pretend to just be friends with you. He longed to do more with you. He wanted to hug you, cuddle you, and most importantly, call you his.

“Want to study together?” You would ask.

“Sorry, I have an exam due.”

“Why are we walking so far apart? Get closer!”

“I’m fine like this.”

“Want to go to that concert?”

“I have football practice.”

At first, you simply played it off as one of his pranks. But soon enough, you realized that he was serious. He wouldn’t look you in the eye and his responses to your jokes and stories were dry. Every time you would try to make plans he would reject them, coming up with an excuse.

You were confused, having no idea what to do. You wondered if you did anything wrong. Nonetheless, you felt like there was a hole burned in your heart, knowing that your best friend was avoiding you.

Hyunjae sighed as he walked through the park. He often loved walking the trail with you. He liked to listen to your stories and little rants. And yes, he did miss you. It was hard to just reject your offers and it was especially hard not to see your face every day like he used to. He thought that you were beautiful, and not being able to see you all the time made him want to cry.

As he turned the corner, he paused when he heard your voice from a distance. He looked and saw that you were sitting on a bench, your phone against your ear as you talked to someone.

“I just don’t understand what I did wrong,” You spoke, your voice quiet and sad. “I miss being with him.”

He felt his heart sink as he watched you look down at your feet, sniffling.

“Should I talk to him?”

His breath hitched.

The day he dreaded came quicker than he had expected. You had texted him, inviting him to your apartment.

Let’s talk.

Hyunjae took a deep breath and knocked on your door. Almost immediately, it opened to reveal you, a pitiful frown on your face and your eyes dull. You led him to sit on the couch as you faced him, trying to gather your thoughts first. Finally, you spoke.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not,” His voice shook.

“You are, don’t lie,” You furrowed your eyebrows. He was quiet for a second, but with the way you were glaring at him, he couldn’t help but give in.

“Fine, maybe I am,” He looked at you with guilt. “But please, you have to understand that I can’t spend time with you anymore.”

“Why?” You cried. “What did I do wrong? Is it me? You can tell me if I did something to upset you, please, I promise that I will make it right.”

“It’s not you, please don’t blame yourself,” He clenched his jaw, his feelings threatening to pour out. He hated seeing you hurt.

“Then tell me what happened.”

You spoke with so much kindness and care, making him feel even more regretful. You should be mad at him, but instead, you were taking care of him. Then, you took his hand in yours. His eyes widened as he looked at you with bewilderment.

“What are you–”

And then you pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. Hyunjae felt his heart stutter as you looked up at him. You intertwined your fingers together as your other hand came up to cup his jaw to make him face you and look you in the eye. He gulped, his eyes going soft.

“Hyunjae… I know there’s something wrong. Please, let me help,” You whispered, caressing his cheek with your thumb, watching as his skin started to tinge with red. He stared at you, feeling like he might choke on his words. You just smiled, softly, trying to convey to him that it was okay. It’s okay now that you’re here.

His heart felt like it was pouring with emotions.

“Please, stop this, sweetheart,” He pleaded, his eyes never leaving yours. His hands were clenched in fists at his side, his heart beating way too fast. He couldn’t handle how you were touching him and treating him with so much love.

“Why should I?” You dared to look him in the eye.

His vision kept on wandering to your lips.

“Because I might do something stupid.” He whispered, his voice wavering.

You stared at him, tightening your hold on his hand. You took a deep breath, feeling nervous all of a sudden. He wouldn’t stop looking at you with an unreadable expression, something completely different than before.

And almost like you were out of breath, you spoke again, your voice barely able to be heard.

“Like what?”

You gasped when you suddenly felt a pair of lips on yours. You were frozen, trying to process the situation. Hyunjae quickly noticed and he pulled away, his eyes immediately filling with regret.

“I– I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–”

“No.”

You took his arm and pulled him back against you. He stared at you, his eyes wide.

“Oh, this is…” He whispered in utter shock.

“Kiss me.”

His eyes immediately closed when you pressed your lips against his. And soon, the two of you began to relax in each other’s hold, your arms going around his neck as his hands came to hold your waist gently. He pulled you even closer, making you gasp. His tongue swiped against your lip as he deepened the kiss, tilting his head for a better angle. You felt dizzy as you tried to keep up with him. His hands roamed all over your sides, making you shiver as your hands rested against his chest.

At some point, you began to run out of air with how aggressively he was kissing. You tapped his arm, causing him to pull away, his lips swollen and red as he gasped for breath.

He searched your eyes to make sure you were okay before he smiled.

“So, sweetheart…” He started, smirking with affection in his eyes.

“Please, don’t,” You covered your face with your hands, slowly turning red.

“Tell me what that was about?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Shut up,” You whined. “You’re the one who kissed first!”

“You’re right about that,” He admitted. And then he looked at you with sincerity. “I’m sorry for avoiding you. I just… I think that I’m in love with you.”

Your breath hitched.

“That is quite the switch-up,” You giggled. “Last week you were insulting me.”

He looked away, blushing furiously.

“I’m still sorry.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay. I may be in love with you too…” You trailed off.

He looked up and his lips curled up happily, “Really?”

You nodded, “I never realized, but now I know. You’re a– a great kisser.” You suddenly felt embarrassed so you stood up and turned away from him to hide your face.

“Don’t be like that now, sweetheart,” He got up and wound his arms around your waist from behind. His nose met with your neck, making you shiver. “Let me see you.”

Hesitantly, you turned to face him. But, he was looking at you so, so fondly that you couldn’t help but shy away again, looking off to the side.

“Sweetheart,” He cupped your cheek with one hand, the other hand still resting on your waist. “I said look at me.”

This time, when you did, he leaned in, kissing you again. He pressed peck after peck, all over your face, making you whine. And then he went back to your lips, kissing more passionately as if he was addicted to you. Which, he is.

“Only kiss me from now on,” He whispered in between kisses. His mind flashed back to his dream from way earlier. He furrowed his eyebrows, groaning as he hated that dream so much. “Noone else. You can only kiss me, okay? Especially not Sunwoo.”

You stared at him wordlessly with amusement.

He looked at you with confusion, “What?”

“Nothing, you’re just cute when you’re jealous.”

He huffed, “Because I like–no, I love you sweetheart.”

You grinned, your cheeks flushing, “I love that name so much.”

“Sweetheart,” He sang in your ear, making you laugh loudly. “Now please,” He looked at you pleadingly, as he led you to the couch and pinned you against it. His hair fell over his face and his eyes darkened. “Kiss me like you mean it.”

“Needy.”

#the boyz reactions #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #hyunjae fluff #hyunjae x reader #fics 💞#requests 💞

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lurkingshan · 9 months

Text

Only Friends and Engaging with Queer Male Media as a Cishet Woman

I’ve had some good conversations this week with friends as we’ve been unpacking our early reactions to Only Friends, which has only just begun getting into the messy dynamics we know the show is going to explore. One of the things that has come up in conversation is our different reactions to the scene between Boston and Top in the shower stall, and how we each read that in terms of consent, sexual coercion, and what it says about each of the characters. Some of us were relatively unfazed by the scene, finding it to be a fairly realistic depiction of a pushy aggressor and his conquest who is not that into him, but also not really opposed to getting sex anywhere and any way he can. Some were more uncomfortable, recognizing behaviors we might call assault in other contexts and wondering whether we should be condemning the character or the scene for the behavior depicted.

For me, this discussion brought up a lot of my previous fandom experiences, taking me all the way back to ye olden days when Queer as Folk (US) was airing and the majority cishet woman fandom spaces were scandalized, scandalized I tell you, by some of the aspects of gay male culture it depicted. It was not the first or the last show to do so, but it stands out in my mind as an important cultural moment at the turn of century as I was coming of age, when the internet was booming and the proliferation of online fandom spaces was rapidly accelerating. Because QaF did it all—casual sex, cruising, group sex, very public acts of indecency, aggressive boundary pushing and peacocking, open and polyamorous relationships, cheating and betrayal, age gaps—and it depicted it all quite explicitly, which made a lot of people uncomfortable. Especially women who were used to thinking about sex and relationships through two primary, and heavily socialized, lenses:

heteronormative romance, and

heterosexual rape culture.

Let’s take a moment to unpack those terms. Heteronormative romance is a big, broad term that I’m using as a kind of container for a lot of things, including patriarchal structures, misogyny, rigid gender roles, purity myths and fetishization of virginity, courtship rituals, promiscuity and respectability politics, the madonna/whore complex, sex as an act primarily for breeding and procreation, expectations of sublimating sexual desire in service of caretaking for others, and so on. Basically, all the bullshit cis women get jammed into our heads from birth that gives us so many hang ups about sex and love. With heterosexual rape culture, I am referring to the undeniable culture of sexual violence women also endure in a majority heterosexual society, in which we are in constant danger of having our boundaries transgressed, being physically and psychologically hurt, and then being told it doesn’t matter because our personhood has always been in question and never mattered as much as any one man’s power or pleasure. I’m not going to drop a bunch of citations for the above because this is tumblr and I have escaped the icy grip of graduate school, but if any of these ideas are unfamiliar to you, google is your pal (and please read about intersectionality as it relates to these concepts while you’re at it, because there are layers of identity that make these dangers worse for some, like our trans and BIPOC sisters, and all of this is undergirded, as ever, by white supremacy).

So, yes, engaging with media about sex is fraught for women, especially when that media does not conform to our heteronormative ideas of morality that have been shaped by all of the above, and particularly when we as individuals have not done the work to unpack and interrogate our socialized beliefs, which is often the case for cishet women especially. Many of us instinctively cringe away from unromantic depictions of sex. Many of us can’t stand cheating and betrayal in our love stories. Many of us shy away from media that depicts the unfortunate reality of grey and dubious consent. All of that is valid, to an extent, and rooted in the way we have been taught to think about this stuff from birth, and the ways we’ve had to adapt to survive.

But, here’s the thing, girlies: most of those socialized hang ups I just talked about? Do not apply to a story by, for, and about queer men.

Before you start yelling, here is your disclaimer: of course patriarchy and misogyny also hurt men. Of course rape culture also exists in queer communities, and of course some queer people engage in heterosexual sex, so these are not mutually exclusive categories of people. And, importantly, cishet women are not the only ones who struggle with these tensions—just the ones who are most relevant to this particular post.

So, after that long and winding road, back to the point: this debate about the bathroom scene in Only Friends is the same shit that’s been debated in majority female fandoms around depictions of queer male sex since time immemorial. And whatever your personal feelings are on that scene, or the no doubt numerous other depictions of questionable romantic and sexual etiquette and dubious consent coming our way in this show, what it boils down to is this: can a majority cis woman fandom step outside of our own conception of sexual morality to engage with this show not with judgment, but with curiosity about what sex and relationships look like for queer men? This show has an entirely queer male writing and directing team. It is made with love by people of the community, for the community. They know what they’re about, they have resumes demonstrating they are damn good storytellers who understand safe sex, consent, sexual health, and sex work, and they are here to tell us a story grounded in their reality. BL has been moving in fits and starts toward depictions of sex that are more honest about queer male experiences, and Only Friends, spearheaded by the Jojo Tichakorn Phukhaotong (who demonstrated quite ably that he has a firm grasp on consent, sexual assault, and the damage that dubious consent can cause in The Warp Effect), is the next step in that evolution. The key point is that sexual activity simply does not mean the same thing or carry the same associations and hang ups for queer men as it does for cis women. With that in mind, can we try our best to process and critique this story on their terms, instead of our own?

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Only Friends is not going to be a good time for people who are looking for romantic depictions of relationships and sex or invested in identifying heroes and villains amongst this cast of characters. This show is about deeply flawed people hurting each other, rooted in the lived experience of the Thai queer male community—and those of us who do not share all of those lived experiences may not understand the nuances of every single thing that is happening. We can be sure that the characters will all be wrong sometimes and they will all do things we think are stupid or reckless or unkind. Does that mean we can’t have empathy for them? Do they have to act in a way we think is morally “correct” in order to love them? You don’t have to be comfortable with the things these characters do, and it’s certainly valid to point out when you think lines have been crossed. But attempting to sort them into “good” and “bad” camps is pointless, and moralistic judgment of their behavior is out of place, particularly when it comes from a place of trying to force them into our own irrelevant frameworks for sexual politics.

And with all that said, I am passing the baton over to my dear friend @waitmyturtles, because there’s an entire aspect of the intersectional cultures at play here that I have barely touched on—Only Friends as an Asian queer story that is building from a specific lineage of Thai queer media. I’m gonna let her take the mic for that part, and say thanks to her, @bengiyo, @neuroticbookworm and @wen-kexing-apologist for reading this over and helping me think through what I wanted to say here, and shoutout to @williamrikers whose post I also linked to above.

#only friends the series #only friends #ofts #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

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eluxcastar · 10 months

Note

As I opened my tumblr, just to check if there is new Arlecchino stuff to swallow... lo and behold, I saw your post with the Arlecchino simp tags. Shot me the moment I stepped into the door right there, hahaha! May I request an Arlecchino x reader, headcanon or anything you're comfortable coming up with. The reader is thousands of years old, who got disowned by the Tsaritsa because they declined their performance in greatness for someone else's benefit and saw no worth in her/them. Could be a sibling or a friend, the betrayal stung like a bee since she/they saw Tsaritsa as a mother figure or could literally be the mother (Got kunikuzushi'd in a way, minus the puppet part). So, here's the main part - How Arlecchino would handle that person, when they meet in hostile terms. An accidental encounter, had banters and fights and eventually found strange subtle solace from each other. Could be romantic, or just obsession on Arlecchino's part because we love deranged women pls step on me with your sharp heels - anyway, since Arlecchino is interpreted as someone who won't hesitant to betray the Fatui. On her own benefit, works with the reader to mess and interrupt Fatui operations. I won't include more or else you'd be dealing a whole thesis of it. Hahahah! Good day to you~!

One of Repetition

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: in a strange decision nobody quite understood but could not contest, you were dismissed from your position by the tsaritsa herself but allowed to live. you wander for some time, lost and confused, and most notably unable to escape the fatui even when you are no longer associated with them, which means an unwanted letter and an even more unwanted visit from the knave.

୨୧﹑genre :: kinda angsty

୨୧﹑content :: fem reader, reader has a pyro vision, arlecchino has a cryo delusion, reader uses a bow, capitano is not human this time, he's just a plot device too, their previous relationship is implied but ambiguous, implied age difference, reader is most often called by the title brighella, writing this spiralled me into insanity, possibly bad writing, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 13.6k

hehe, I know that Arlecchino simps flock to me once they learn my requests are open. I have no idea why. maybe they're just especially desperate for food, but they linger, and I have a little collection of anons.

don't worry about how much it'll take me, I honestly enjoy writing longer works. anyway, I received a request similar to this some time ago (was it you? I have encountered that before) but haven't gotten around to completing it, so I'll be partly combining the two

here's the other request:

it's gonna provide some stuff for me to follow, and I remember exactly when I got it, so I wanted to include it for the dear anon who sent it

why brighella you may ask well that's because brighella has been described before as essentially Arlecchino's smarter and more vindictive brother and they compliment each other well. I think Arlecchino may also work for Brighella in some versions?? either way it felt right even though they're not really based off of the character brighella, they do share a few traits with him but not fully it's just a fun little parallel

I really did not expect this to be so long that it literally lagged the writing program I was using to save it and I have been staring at this for so long I literally have no gauge on the quality anymore just that it's variable because it took me so long someone send help

Her words left you exasperated, literally at a loss for words, and you struggled to comprehend the reason for it. There was nothing you could think of, no instance that struck you as prominent. Yet, somehow as one of the Tsaritsa's children, you had become what any parent might refer to simply as a disappointment, their failure—the problem child who never quite ironed out their issues. You had always been faithful to her, hopelessly devoted to the archon and her will. News such as this came out of nowhere and struck you like a hammer to the chest.

Two of her most mighty children were near and dear to her, and now the other had turned against you as he remains loyal to her. The Jester, who you once held in high regard, has turned against you. It is a bitter pill to swallow, for you must now sever ties with the one man you believed was truly deserving of serving the Tsaritsa. Your mother— your world— turns against you with him, before him, leading the way for him.

In vain, you draw your bow to strike an arrow between his eyes, prove your strength and power as above your position, above him, but it means nothing. Your strike is blocked, and the Tsarita's Damselette Columbina moves to detain you. You believe she would not be strong enough, but you don't itch to fight ten other Harbingers. You understand that even you have a limit, and fighting what are supposed to be the strongest people in the country is not a part of that. Your honour is on the line, an honour which would tarnish not only Brighella's name but also have a ripple effect on your soldiers, men and women who fought for you and did not deserve a punishment that would result from their actions.

"Think carefully, Brighella." Columbina's warning is not lost on you, "You could remain as a hero or fight, and I will lure the creature you brought from the abyss and gut him before your eyes."

You do not want that. That creature is not yet loyal to the Tsaritsa but to you, and she will convince him he can save you. He will fall into her trap and die.

You bite your lip, trying to think of a way to escape and capture him so that you can run off somewhere. He does not deserve to die, but you can't think of anything. Not when you know how thorough these people are. There is not a will, really. There is only a has. He has fallen into her trap and is at the mercy of the Damselette. "What if I am to obey?" You finally ask the question you did not want to, surrendering in a way, though the bite has not left your words.

"I'll leave him be." Her answer is swift. She expected that you would eventually give in and only needed to wait for it to happen.

You shake your head, dissatisfied with only that as your compensation. "Not enough."

The smile on her face does not waver, thin and deceitful as ever, eyes hidden and closed, unseen behind the band of lace. "Mm. I can't bargain anything else."

"Have him take my place." You lay your condition out firmly. There is only one to meet, and not a hard one at that. It would be easy to sway him into it, using whatever they plan to do to you as motivation. His loyalty and affection for you would make him accept it.

She ponders the situation and proposal momentarily, powerless to make the executive decision but undoubtedly keen on the thought of it all. "He believes that you are about to fall in battle to a foe and that he is going to save you."

You grit your teeth, knowing that this is her trap. Lure him to a place. It was not what you had expected, but it is no less the Damselette's style of acting. There is always a damsel, but perhaps she recognised that she would not suffice this time. She needed a better damsel for him to save; for that to work, it needed to be you.

She needs your name, reputation, your relationship with your subordinate, melding together with her lies to make for a tale of tragedy with him as the hero.

The thought of him rushing to his death under the guise of saving you spikes your blood cold, chilling you. You're aware of her cruelty and always have been, but to experience it is different than hearing about it from her perspective. You are experiencing it from the perspective of the victim.

His death was another factor to hold over your head, your penance, the anchor to force your compliance. Your blood boils with anger, but you cannot fight. Despite your feelings of anger and frustration, you know that lashing out will only cause further harm and pain.

There is only one thing you can do. You know you must. It's simply that you don't want to.

But...you must.

You must for him, that poor creature you tried to give a home to and who would never be in such a position if not for you and your ambition.

"Then I will fall, and you will use the honour I built into him to persuade him."

It was an honour meant to humanise him in a way, a being only able to imitate humanity. He had a mentor and something to fight for. Now you're imploring that it be used against him to burden him, but he will do well in your position.

Columbina smiles, that thin mocking smile like she knows the secrets of this world and more. "Would he really believe that?"

The helmet. You should use the helmet to your advantage. Your subordinate's first exposure to humanity, being you, a woman in a metal helmet, seemed to last. He used to think that was what humans looked like, and he admitted as much to you as he had asked you to remove it. Your impression left an indelible mark on him that he treasures to this day. Even if he was to see you in the aftermath, he would not uncover the lie.

"He has never seen my face. He would not recognise me."

Columbina accepts that readily, and her eyes open, pools of black and white visible through the cracks in the lace over her eyes. You've seen them before, inky black sclera and inhuman patterns decorating the borders of her irises, but you can't help the unsettled feeling that makes a home for itself in the pit of your stomach.

By the evening, you are stripped of your honours, titles and coat and dumped to the curb like a bag of rubbish somebody left out. There is no more fight, no more bargaining, no more arguing. Everyone has the things they want, for the most part, so you are all satisfied enough to remain amicable with each other. Without a fight, you allow the Jester to remove the fur-lined overcoat despite the cold that rushes over you once it is gone and discarded in a heap of fur and fabric on the floor with none of its previous value.

After that comes the slow, deliberate removal of every trinket that denoted you as you. From your delusion, several gifts to your very insignia, the only thing left of you is a lone pyro vision and the clothes on your back. You've never been more thankful to not wear a standard-issue uniform lest you be made to undress and hand that over too.

That was it. Your everything.

With each piece of regalia taken, a part of yourself disappeared until you were left an empty husk of a person, your entire reason for being for hundreds of years snatched out from under you and spat on.

The Harbingers were supposed to be the children of the Tsaritsa, and this was your grand disowning. A show of power and influence over her closest children and, by extension, the ability to bring pain to her less-- to her followers. It was foolish of you to ever think you were special in her eyes for having been by her side since before the Archon War. What did it matter when she left you amongst the rest of them? The years you spent since you had hobbled into her life so tiny and cute were now reduced to a few personal belongings and a set of words that shattered your world to sharp and dangerous pieces that would only hurt you in your haste to reassemble them and string your life back together.

When you were young, your cuteness may have been your best asset: a small body with endearing quirks, the inability to walk long distances without tumbling. In this state, you required her for everything because you would only find danger in the harsh Snezhnayan winters. To even acquire your own food was unthinkable, so you were sheltered and provided with ample treats that you could nibble from the palm of her hand if that were what you wished. Anything to keep you happy and content.

Like a little trinket, she cradled you for as many years as it took you to grow, and once you were at an age you no longer needed to be cradled, she made you her loyal companion, or so you had believed. You thought her affection for you was unwavering. She was the only mother you had ever known; she is the only mother you will remember for all of eternity.

Although it may have been an exaggeration, watching the sun's gradual descent below the horizon, you could almost believe eternity would quickly prove to be a very real concept. You watch the sky darken in silence for a time. You roam aimlessly around the city, your presence still striking unease in the people from the threatening demeanour you learned to conduct yourself with as a Harbinger, even without your official attire. The only remnant of your former self is a helmet you consistently wore during every public appearance.

You can't help your wandering mind. Did your imitation of the Tsaritsa's actions make you weak? Attempting to nurture someone in the same manner she nurtured you? You are not a god, only the former child of one. Maybe you cannot care for him and maintain your objectivity. It's possible that he has become your Achilles' heel, as you were forewarned when the Tsaritsa less than subtly suggested you eliminate him.

You cannot live like this.

No matter how many suns you watched set, you would never come to terms with it living like this. The world you once knew, which revolved around a singular governing entity and individual, has disappeared without a trace. Without a central axis to anchor it in place, your world spirals chaotically out of control, with each passing second feeling more frenzied than the last. Your head is too muddled, your brain too overwhelmed by your emotions to think objectively of the faults in your time as a Harbinger, years of your life spent that way, burying your thoughts beneath a heavy weight of despair.

You almost want to call them wasted, but that would be wrong. Without the Tsaritsa, you might've— no, would've died during the Archon War. Perhaps another god would take you in, but it is unlikely that they would have exhibited the same level of compassion and generosity as the Tsaritsa. They would not have coddled you into comfort the way she did. Then again, what if that had been your downfall? Did she ever genuinely want you to stay? Based on this...perhaps you took her kindness for granted and overstayed your welcome.

You had no right to make demands of her in your final moments as her child, acting like a spoiled brat throwing a temper tantrum. But can you be justified? Can the threat to your subordinate's life negate that? Surely a bit, but not entirely, not if her actions were in response to yours.

Oh, even if you begged on your knees, she would not take you back now.

Why had you not done that before?

She must be disappointed that your attitude was born from her compassion, the epitome of her failures. You do not deserve to call her your mother. You took her generosity as a guarantee, thought yourself above her other children solely because you were her first, and believed you were her favourite for no reason besides your own arrogance.

You have failed the only being in Teyvat willing to show pity toward you.

The deepest heart of Snezhnayan forest welcomes you readily with open arms and the gnashing jaws of monsters starving for food. The forest seems to come alive with a vicious hunger for flesh. You have nothing but your vision and bow left to aid your defence. Your delusion is gone, and your subordinates are nowhere to be found to assist you. Despite this, marking your way with a trail of bodies is easy. It is just an inconvenience to have to always be on guard, but you are strangely used to it.

The cold is numbing as the air hits your face, your fingers almost wholly without a sensation of touch and even a tingle in your toes.

You spent many missions that way, tensed and expecting violence at any moment, hardly allowing yourself to sleep, let alone relax. It feels like nothing has changed in that respect, but you know everything has. You cannot hear the large crackling bonfire or the pattering of footsteps in the snow as your subordinates come to join you, their laughter and chatter and their whispers to each other.

There is a stark silence that is deafening to your ears.

On the seventh night, you pass through a village on the outskirts of Snezhnaya, where you first catch wind of the news you had agreed on. The locals informed you that they had recently halted their work for half a day in your honour, believing that you had passed away. All of them are completely unaware that as they remark on the death of Brighella, they are speaking to the former Harbinger, who asks about the news under the guise of being a curious traveller. They also strongly advised you against venturing into the innermost heart of the nation. If anyone were to notice the helmet carefully secured around your waist, it might bring unwanted attention to your travels.

Though you were stripped of your insignia, you have your armour, which by some grace had been spared from confiscation. Though a seemingly trivial act of kindness, a sense of pride swelled within you as you gazed upon it. You are glad it is still yours. This armour had accompanied you through countless blood-soaked skirmishes, serving as a steadfast shield against all manner of danger.

It is at that moment you decide to treat it as a trophy. Though there is no truth to it, you take responsibility for the Harbinger's slaying. Now, the armour which once protected you as a Harbinger will stand as a triumphant emblem of your hard-won victory over Brighella and the end of the Harbinger's tyrannical hold over the land. You know that you will keep it close, treasuring it always as a tangible reminder of the sacrifices you made to reach this pivotal moment. You slayed Brighella. You ended the Harbinger's tyranny.

If you didn't know better, you would think you were getting a little too far into it and starting to believe it yourself.

By the eleventh night, you find yourself situated in an inn, and the nights only carry on from there all the way up to the twenty-second night since your abrupt dismissal and, to the rest of the world, your supposed demise. Already, the whispers that once revolved around Brighella's defeat now shifted to speculations regarding her successor. The question was not necessarily who, but who could possibly? Her brutal reign as a Harbinger had instilled fear in the hearts of all who crossed her path and in the minds of the people, no one else could measure up to her sheer terror-inducing presence. Nobody knows what happened once they dared to fight Brighella until now. She was only the Fourth of the Tsaritsa's children, but she was the most combat-heavy, and no one wished to cross her, except for the rumoured contender for her throne, who was spoken of in hushed tones as nobody was eager to have their reverence for whoever was bold enough to reach the wrong ears.

Your achievements find their place amongst the rumours as people say that Brighella's killer stole her armour and wears it as her trophy.

Despite the slew of gossip that its patrons indulge in, you enjoy the quaintness of this bar made and run by travellers who use it like a pitstop to rest and recuperate. It is a home to them, along with adventurers and merchants who benefit from the atmosphere. The people are strangers, often reserved and eager to keep to themselves, but have immeasurable wealths of information that spill with a few drinks and a group of acquaintances who are, for only one night of pleasure and indulgence, their lifelong friends.

Among those friends buried in your own tankard of cheap ale, you laugh along with their jokes and entertain their questions like a test of your ability to lie and improvise in this tale you're making for yourself. If they have names, you don't know them. Brighella's death was a glorious battle but isolated to the hills where you were alone.

"Brighella was alone, and they were weakened by prior injury. I don't know what caused it." You mix a dash of the speculations in, downplaying your strength a tad as you're unwilling to expose too much of it. "I'm not one to miss an opportunity. When would it arise again?"

One of your new acquaintances scoffs, amused but no less aware of the dangers of doing such a thing. "And make an enemy of the Fatui?" He is a new graduate of the Sumeru Akademiya who's come to make his way through Snezhnaya for a job offer. Reminds you of someone else, minus the graduating.

"They will not miss her." You are quick to answer—too quick, arguably—as it draws a sliver of attention before dipping back under the radar as a product of your confidence. "Her 'head' makes too cute a decoration on my side to pass up stealing it."

"I wouldn't dare say such a thing. Fatuus comes here sometimes." They are the words of a Snezhnayan native raised to worship the Fatui, though he is somewhat disillusioned by their crimes and cruelty, as you've learned many are.

"Let them hear it!" Your laughter is boisterous and unabashed. "They'll see the armour anyway. They probably despise her like everyone else."

Another one of your new friends, a travelling merchant from Fontaine, interjects your ravings to add only a passing comment. It was as she had done all evening, her secrets locked up tight. "She did not make herself likeable."

"She was not meant to be likeable but a fearsome warrior." Again, the Snezhnayan man rebuttals the criticism against her as he had been doing all evening again.

"You don't have to get so far up her ass, Brighella's not gonna crawl out of her grave and thank you for it."

"You're so vulgar."

You plant your tankard firmly down on the table between the four of you, leaning over it to close the distance between you and the man. "I'm not meant to be likeable either."

Forget being only a little too into the role. You're revelling in the freedom of this new identity of yours.

Quick to disperse the tension, your graduate friend changes the topic without a hint of hesitance in his voice. "They left an underling people believe will take their place. It's a surprise to think Brighella had someone who followed them with such...devotion."

"It's strange, but not impossible." The merchant from Fontaine again, contributing nothing you weren't all already thinking.

"Could she have had a sentimental side?"

"Who cares if she had a sentimental side?"

"Upset the attention isn't on you anymore?"

Anger crosses your face, but you stifle it just as quickly as it appears. You wish their attention was off of you, really. The former you, maybe, but you nonetheless. You want to know about your subordinate. What happened to your second in command? You don't care to hear their speculation as to whether you were or were not particularly emotional with your underlings. You know the answers to all of those questions and more without their guessing games.

"Regardless of the reason, they say the underlying is much easier to swallow than she is, so maybe the position of Fourth Harbinger will change drastically if he takes it."

"Would he really change its purpose if he was so loyal?"

"Unintentionally, perhaps."

God, these people are so dull. Just listening to them, you can tell they know nothing of the ways of the Fatui. Harbingers are not individual job positions with specific parameters. Each role is its own, and they are moulded by the person who assumes them like a character in a play, enchanting and unsettling in a horrific mix of theatrics and violence. It is what they stand for. One does not assume the role and become an actor with a script. They must improvise and act on a whim to the beat of the Tsaritsaʼs drum, their life no longer their own.

They are not whatever these ramblings and poor excuses for speculations make them out to be.

"Terribly misinformed, aren't they?" In your ear is the low voice of the Snezhnayan man holding in his laughter at the two as the scholar and the merchant go back and forth.

You glance to your left, where he has leaned closer to you. "Repulsively," you respond curtly.

He has a faint glint of satisfaction in his eye as you seem to have confirmed something. "I thought you might've been from Snezhnaya."

"So what if I am?"

"It was only an observation."

In the background, the main conversation continues, just as clumsy as it was before you had tuned it out in favour of drinking some more. "Does this mean he will also be named Brighella?"

Straightening back in his seat, the man swiftly interjected their back-and-forth responses to explain to them. "They receive a unique title upon their promotion, and nobody knows what it is until then." A simple enough concept to understand.

"In other words, anything but Brighella."

"It hasn't been long enough to know yet."

"It's strange. Nobody knows his name even now."

That would probably be because you never gave him one.

You considered it in the years you spent with him but couldn't find one you liked. His name was inhuman, not for your ears and not for your tongue, rendering it useless to you and every human who would hear it. The night you found him was spent crowded around a bonfire listing off every suggestion you and your subordinates could think of to no avail, as he only sat quietly by your side and said little about any of these choices, finding no familiarity in any of them. That's only natural, you suppose.

You still haven't chosen a name for yourself that isn't Brighella, either. Your old one is well and truly forgotten, with the years eroding your memories. It had been centuries since you had been called anything else. Evidently, picking names is not your forte.

"As far as I've heard, nobody knows what it is."

You find the mention of your subordinate has completely ruined your mood. You are grateful the creature is alive but worried the knowledge you're snooping around to find out when he will be promoted could land you in trouble. It's troubling enough to wonder if he has heard your tales through the grapevine about how you had supposedly 'killed' Brighella—his mistress and mentor—which he would not be happy about. Though you did not fear the creature before, now that you've personally trained him to understand human combat, you're not so sure you'd want to fight him. It would be a hassle. Unlike many, you do not fear the inhumanity of the Doctor or the stone wall that's called the Jester. Even the cunning Damselette struggles to do more than unsettle you, but you respect that creature's raw strength and understand that no matter what you do, it doesn't matter. You are confined to a human form, and he is not.

You lied when he said he wouldn't recognise you, however. You don't actually know if he would.

You don't know the extent to which his eyes can pick out the details in your appearance that aren't physical. Had he memorised your relative build? Your height? The way you carry yourself and your mannerisms? The thought unnerves you, but so does everything else about him.

"I'm turning in for the night." Without regard for the ongoing conversation, you declare your intentions and abruptly shut down whatever is being said at the time without much care for it. Whatever it is, it isn't important. Your unfinished drink is left behind as you make your way to your quarters.

In retrospect, you understand their eagerness to merely cover up the circumstances of your dismissal. For a Harbinger as feared as Brighella, it is easier to halt work for a mere half-day rather than attempt to contain the resulting fallout of admitting one of their own was inadequate while simultaneously preserving their tenuous hold on power.

Months pass before there is talk of the crowning of a new Harbinger, the people abuzz with the news and eager to know all they can, preferably before the aristocrats feel like sharing the night of the event. You considered attending the ceremony but ultimately decided against it. You may have the courage to do so, but you are certainly not stupid enough to wander into the waiting heart of the Fatui's clutches. You have waited patiently for this moment and can easily wait longer to hear the news.

No longer treating the inn like a home, you settled somewhere in the plains of another nation only a few weeks after you had first arrived there, sensing the barkeep was getting sick of you and the attention you were drawing to his otherwise obscure establishment.

People settled there for a night, saw you were there, and word of mouth as they boasted of their encounters with you lured others who came to see you. While this influx of new customers certainly provided a boost to business, it also had the unintended consequence of driving away those who preferred to keep a low profile and valued its place as being for those 'in the know'. In other words, while you were great for a boom in business, you were bad for long-term business.

The barkeep pushing the mora you tried to pay him to pay for another night was enough to send the message he wanted you gone, out by morning. The idea you were not to come back for quite some time was clear to you in the look he gave you.

Liyue, on the other hand, is filled with mountains and teeming with visitors who have come to witness the highly anticipated Rite of Descension. Surprisingly, the influx of tourism only adds to the overall enjoyment of your experience. You would think that tourism would hinder your time there, but completely contrary it makes it better in a way. The locals are expecting an influx of outsiders to come to see the Geo Archon in person, and, as a result, they are not only willing to hire help for the time but also serve later at food stalls, and the place is livelier.

People notice you less as you blend into a crowd of people who don't belong, and you slip under the radar.

You have no interest in the Rite of Descension nor the Geo Archon, and most of your time is spent outside the Harbour.

Wangshu Inn is still within Liyue but at a considerable distance from the Harbour, a mid-point between there and the border to Mondstadt. It is quieter, which is neither good nor bad, and home to some very understanding owners who ask so few questions it almost alarms you. Nonetheless, you crave respite from the chaos and theatrics you were revelling in as a reprieve from the stress you were under, wondering how you would live your life now. At one point, you relished being hailed as a hero by many, but it soon became overwhelming, and you found yourself trapped in the clutches of Brighella once again.

Whether by design or happenstance, your identity had begun to consume your life again, and if you wanted to have any hope of living outside of Brighella, then that had to stop. And so, you sought out a place to lay down your burdens and unwind, leading you to where you are now.

You arrive your old self, and despite clinging to it since your travels had begun, you remove every piece of your armour for what you intend to be a long time and leave it all neatly arranged for when you eventually return to it. You feel compelled to finally don the fresh outfit you acquired during your journey through Fontaine. Admittedly floor-length dresses and extravagance are not your style after years of being cooped up in a heavy suit of armour, but there's something alluring about trying out a new look, especially when it involves pants that don't weigh more than a third of your body weight. Besides, you always kind of liked them anyway, just...not yet. Now seems like a good time to dip your toes in.

You almost don't recognise yourself when you finally see yourself in the mirror. Perhaps you got too used to seeing a metal helmet staring back at you and a suit of armour for a body, but the fresh air against your skin and lighter clothes feels...good.

For the first time in a while, you feel free.

The new outfit is making you giddy, too giddy for your taste. You don't recall having such an innate pep in your step, only one that felt deserved, but this different. While you typically associate a sense of satisfaction with having earned it through hard work or perseverance, this newfound exuberance seems to come from just existing in your new clothes. You are happy just because even if there is nothing to feel happy about. It's as if the simple act of wearing them has given you a boost, despite not having accomplished anything significant. It doesn't even seem like you made much progress toward becoming yourself when you lay it all out on paper. You bought clothes and wore them, that's it.

Something about it feels so much like yourself. The freedom to stray from what you thought you were until now, something you hadn't dared to try before.

One thing you like about Wangshu Inn is how it serves even people who aren't staying there. The ground floor overlooking the water is designated as almost a kind of restaurant. People filter in and out to be served, stay for lunch, meet with friends, and take breaks from their missions. It is meant as a place for travelling merchants, but you find that is not all its patrons see in it.

You are not nearly as sociable as you were in the Snezhnayan bar you were at, but this seems more manageable anyway.

"If you've come looking for work, the Adventurer's Guild may have a place for you." A suggestion from a merchant who struck up an idle conversation with you for some reason sticks with you. You can't say why, but you imagine a product of boredom.

"They accept anyone?" Your surprise is evident in your tone, as you thought they might have tighter restrictions.

Just as in disbelief fact as you are, he shrugs, "As long as you've got enough power to back yourself, a friend of mine said they'll accept anyone."

That sounds far too good to be true, at least for your taste. "And it doesn't matter where you come from or where you go?"

"Adventurers are known to get restless in one place for too long."

"I see, and you can just go up a--"

"Excuse me, miss." You don't remember hearing that voice, but you recognise the attire when you turn your head just enough to be met with the sight of a cicin mage standing before you impatiently awaiting your attention. The top half of her face is concealed, as is customary, but there's no mistaking the unkind smile that tugs at the corners of her lips as you meet her gaze.

Has she come for retribution?

Despite your fears of having to make a mess, the woman reveals a letter that is sealed with wax and extends it towards you, expecting you to receive it sooner rather than later as she waves it slightly as a form of incentive. "From the Damselette," she adds.

"What could the Damselette want with me?"

"Perhaps a warning." The words slip by, quiet but noticeable, immediately catching your attention. You raise an eyebrow at her. She's slowly unveiling her contempt at your presence; you're very aware of that fact. You are not familiar with her. It is unlikely that she ever worked under your command. However, it is possible that she might've held a certain level of regard, which has since turned to hostility as rumours of her arrogant killer run rampant. "I don't know. I'm not privy to those things."

Your eyes glance over her from head to toe in thought, scrutinising her for any indication of where her animosity came from. However, there is nothing that gives away her motives. You break your gaze away from her and glance down at the letter in your hand. "I suggest you get a better hold of your tongue. They don't like it when you're rude to their guests."

Her smile does not waver. "You are not a guest." She states that fact with glaringly false politeness.

"Everyone who recieves correspondence from a Harbinger is a guest."

You suppose you can't fault her disdain when all is said and done.

From somewhere tucked away in her clothing, she pulls what appears to be a knife from your peripheral vision and points it at you, but you look up to find it is only a blunt letter opener balanced in the palm of her hand, waiting to be picked up.

"I was ordered to stay until you had read the letter to deliver her your response."

Just as she believes you are a murderer, the letter addresses you as such. Your lies have reached her ears. Moreover, she is playing along with them.

You expected threats and unfair deals, but it is only an update on what is happening regarding your position, the reassurance that they have not violated the terms of the agreement made. A half-hearted apology and an excuse. Preparations set them back, supposedly.

While you imagine preparing not only a funeral but a ceremony to announce the next Harbinger does take time, it would not take this much time with how prepared they were to kill you off in the first place. It was a planned betrayal.

It just looks better if they don't appear so prepared.

For whatever reason, perhaps your consolation prize for enduring her shameless lies, she shares a secret with you. As you casually scan the letter with little care for its contents, your attention is immediately drawn to the heart of the matter. It's the very subject on everyone's minds and all that anyone speaks of.

Il Capitano. His name is Il Capitano.

Personally, you would not have picked it, but that does not mean that you hate the name. Quite the opposite, in fact, as you have to admit that when you envision the name paired with his face, it suits him well. She ends the letter promising that she will 'take good care of him', though you know that your respective ideas of those words do not align or even coexist in the same universe. There is an unmistakable discrepancy between her intentions and your own, and you don't like it.

"Come back to us, Brighella. You can watch everything you wanted in person."

You won't go back. It's a trap.

Irritated, you find yourself back in the heart of the country where nobody lurks, haphazard in the way you fire your arrows at every creature that dares to disturb your sense of peace. It's hard to focus, and you don't bother trying. Liyue is not the same as Snezhnaya, with open plains broken up by rocky mountains. The creatures are mostly the same, and all die the same, hilichurls and geovishaps running rampant and shot down into piles of meat and rocks.

It doesn't matter how loudly you shout, as there's nobody around to hear it. You could scream, cry, and throw a tantrum all you want, and it won't matter. Even if you throw yourself at the ground and bang your head into the dirt, nobody will see it.

This is all pointless. You will never escape. It will never matter how far you roam or how fast you run.

Why did you think you could? Had your brain melted from your head?

There is no other side. There is no salvation. You are owned from the day you're brought in until the day you die, but why? Why did they want to bring you back to Snezhnaya? What was the point? You are out of the way now, hardly causing trouble for them. Despite this, everything seems to be running smoothly, even with the liberties you have taken in your new role. Was that it? The reason they wanted you to see?

It must be. There is no other reason to risk exposing the lie otherwise. Unless it was to tarnish the Fatui's reputation.

You refuse to believe it is something as innocent as wanting to see your request honoured. Nothing is innocent within the Fatui, not an action without hidden intentions or motives. Centuries of watching their misdeeds from the inside, which always go unpunished and unchallenged by anyone except the powerless commoners, have taught you that there is always an ulterior motive lurking behind their actions.

Not to mention it came from Columbina.

You must've spent three days out there before finally returning to Wangshu Inn, dirtied by the elements and craving something to eat, like a child's insatiable desire for sweets. The dead of night provides a cover for you to take a dip in the water beside the inn in an attempt to rinse the dirt and sweat off of you. It dawns on you that your new clothes would've been ruined if you hadn't had the foresight to change before venturing out again. In that moment, thoughts of the Fatui and the memories evoked by your armour flooded your mind, and you didn't want the same thing to happen to the clothes that had made you so happy from the moment you put them on.

It feels childish how you cling to these things.

A part of you just can't help it, torn between holding onto the memories that define who you believe yourself to be and starting anew with a clean slate. Neither can win. One is stuck on the past and what little you have of it, and the other wants to abandon all of that and start completely fresh.

The half-compromise you are trying desperately to make work by accepting that what's gone is gone while keeping your armour close to your heart is obviously not working. The thought of discarding it pains you too much to actually do it, plagued by the urge to melt it down to scrap metal while also being overwhelmed by the knowledge you will regret doing that as soon as you see the mess that would be left of it.

Your new clothes make you happy, so you need more new things to make you even happier, right? If new means you glean happiness, then more new is what will help you move past all of this deliberation in your head.

Clothes were a given, and...maybe a haircut? Yeah. You should try cutting your hair and decide on a name for yourself that isn't Brighella. Something you want, a name you like, that you can look at yourself and see that person reflected in a mirror. The person you think you are supposed to be when you look past the expectation that has been instilled in you.

That merchant you spoke to mentioned the Adventurer's Guild might have a place for you. What if you should be helping people instead of hurting them? What if you only did that to please the Tsaritsa?

In the background of your thoughts, you walk yourself back to your room at the Wangshu Inn and collapse onto your bed, thinking. Though you are exhausted, you cannot bring yourself to sleep for one reason or another. You make excuses for yourself just to ignore the glaring root of the problem you know is there but refuse to acknowledge. The problem isn't really how hot or cold the room is or the texture of your blankets and how much you dislike the humidity in the air. Something else entirely is keeping you from rest.

Your hair isn't the problem either, or your clothes. Even your lack of a proper name really doesn't bother you. They're only the illusion of change you're using to cover up how truly lost you have become now that you have to think for yourself.

How long have you been alive now? Centuries at least. You can't even live independently after that long? No. No, you can't.

You are so lonely, you are lost, you are confused. You need company, you need guidance, and you need purpose. How are you supposed to live? Where is the person who will tell you what to do every day?

You have to make that choice yourself? You can't do that. You've never done that.

The thought of even something so basic scaring you so severely brings you to a weakness you never realised you even possessed. Fear surges through the very depths of your being, an unfamiliar sensation that you find unsettling. You don't like it, but it's an impossible feeling to push down and ignore. Over the years, you had quietly collected your shortcomings into a neat little jar and pushed it aside, out of sight, away from your conscious thought, as if pretending you were invincible.

What would you have done if you had gotten to Capitano? Make him decide?

He can't. He's not human. He doesn't know enough to decide. You've only made him just like you, a fearsome man until he's abandoned and vulnerable like you have become, and then he'll be pathetic and helpless too.

Nothing came out of any of your efforts, did it? It couldn't have possibly. Even with every attempt you made, it was always doomed to fail.

It turns out that the Adventurer's Guild was more than happy to take you in, in a way. They put you right to work. It helps to take your mind off of things if nothing else. It's mindless work, able to tune out everything in your brain and run on auto-pilot. You take to this life so well it scares you, completing your tasks with so little trouble you wonder how this isn't more popular, even if some are arguably unnecessary. If only you were good at proper cooking, you might get rich from the tens of requests for certain dishes.

You're irresistibly drawn to the combat, right back to the heat of battle where you feel truly alive. In all you've had to question, your love for the thrill of fighting has never been up for debate. You're unsure whether it's the adrenaline or something else, but you don't care to know, either. You don't concern yourself with such questions. It's not important to you why, so long as you find comfort in it. It's the one thing you cannot be robbed of.

A hard day's work is always rewarding.

"Make sure you be careful today." A fellow adventurer is quick to catch you before you can wander off for your next quest, smiling and unbothered despite his words. You've never met him, but he speaks as if you have.

Something about the bond of adventurers is so reminiscent of the Fatui.

You turn back to place your full attention on him rather than the grilled tiger fish you had acquired out of curiosity about the taste. "Why's that?" You're not too bothered, expecting him to tell you that it's dangerous out there, the Abyss Order existing and all.

"The Fatui are restless."

His words catch you off-guard, light in tone as they are. In outward appearances, he's mostly unbothered, while the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

You try to grasp your bearings just enough to speak. "They don't do that for fun." Something about it is just as shaky as you expected, unable to fully mask it, but you figure he'll blame it on nerves.

"Harbinger, apparently." He doesn't draw attention to your demeanour, so neither do you.

"Which one?"

"Dunno."

It's probably Columbina. Maybe you pissed her off when you shot the messenger. Yeah, she probably wouldn't appreciate that. When you did it in a fit of anger, you expected her to find it funny after coming to your senses.

"Hey. Something wrong?"

You startle as you realise he had been speaking that whole time, and you just weren't listening.

"Sorry?"

"I said it's weird that they'd be up and about so soon after the newest was officially promoted."

You deadpan a little, realising it wasn't something of actual value, just a misconception that the greatest powers that be in Snezhnaya aren't spiteful enough to hate each other just as much as they hate everyone else. "Not really. They're not particularly sentimental."

"They don't even care to go out drinking for their own?"

"They hardly know how to tolerate each other." You realise your slip of the tongue too late, seeming too familiar. That's a problem. He barely draws attention to it, only making a strange face.

"Well, whatever the reason, work doesn't stop for them."

In silence, you agree and continue your day as if you really believe that.

As you wrap up your work for the day, you feel a sense of pleasant exhaustion wash over you. It struck you as strange that nobody was out in the wild, even the usual fatuus you avoid. Something about it was uniquely eerie. It dawns on you why he came to the conclusion that the Fatui were 'restless'. They must have retreated into the city to prepare for the impending arrival of the Harbinger destined to disrupt the small peace you had found. The sudden influx of fatuus in Liyue would make it seem like they are increasing in numbers nationwide when in reality, they are just moving.

You're not going to let it bother you for now.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know you have promised yourself that repeatedly and have found it to be a lie, but you mean it this time. You're familiar enough with the workings of the Fatui to know that they don't like to leave sectors alone for too long, and Liyue had spent a fair time before your dismissal unchecked.

Even at night, you remain unbothered when you wander Liyue for a time, looking for something to do and notice what he was talking about.

Many of them are fussing more than usual, meaning that chances are it's too late to inhibit the process of this Harbinger arriving. You could turn tail and run, scurry off to the other side of Teyvat and settle in Fontaine or even Natlan, but you like it here.

You sit in the heart of Liyue, listening to a speaker tell his stories. You know you shouldn't linger, but you tell yourself you can for just a little while longer. It reminds you of the past, filled with Liyue legends you remember hearing about as news at the time they took place. The fact these tales are now old enough to be suitable for a speaker's recitation as 'legends' is a grim reminder that maybe you're older than you realised. Your early life is now from the time of legends. You can push that feeling aside to focus on the nostalgia of hearing these stories.

Beside you, you hear the chair move but don't budge from looking to see who it is, assuming that all other chairs are taken or that it's an adventurer who got curious, possibly even the man you had spoken to earlier about all of the Fatui--

“Reminiscing, Brighella?”

You recognise both that voice and that name and go stiff, eyes finding her before your head can even turn in her direction.

In front of you—or rather, across from you—the Knave sits upon the other chair at your table as if she was always supposed to be there, seemingly at ease, but you know better than to assume her guard is down. Arlecchino has always had an icy composure, though she can be hot-headed at times and can lose her temper when provoked. It's not surprising that she was able to track you down, even without knowing what your face looks like.

She turns to you leisurely, unhurried. "I came to look for you since you missed the ceremony." It sounds like a greeting the way she speaks those words. You suppose it is one, really.

Ah, maybe you should've been worried after all.

You try to play off your emotions as if you're completely unfazed by her presence. It's the only way to maintain some semblance of control. "Did Columbina not like my gift?"

"Oh, she rather enjoyed it." Arlecchino maintains a similar composure, knowing approaching you in public means employing subtlety as much as it means she's less likely to be attacked. "She felt it was just the kind of gift you would give."

"I try my best not to disappoint." Your response is less enthusiastic than you might like, a hint of nervousness infesting your brain and refusing to budge.

Despite this, she doesn't notice, not outwardly. Really, that means nothing, as you are very aware of how good her poker face is. "Il Capitano hasn't stopped speaking about how much he'd like to kill you. You don't want to disappoint, do you?" When you were waiting for her to speak, those weren't the words you expected to hear, but somehow you're not fully surprised either.

"I see, so my lies reached even his ears."

You thought as much.

"I think you'll be quite surprised when you see him." Her reply is so cocky that you almost scoff at her.

"Who said I would be seeing him?" You try to match the audacity she had to make such a remark.

She turns to you rather casually for the words she speaks, an odd tone you can't quite place, lacing her words half like mockery. "You miss him, don't you?"

It's that question that makes you snort and turn away as you realise that her negotiation and persuasion skills are abysmal for such a cunning and intelligent woman. "Not enough to become foolish enough to trust someone whose title denotes them as dishonest and untrustworthy." You always wondered about that, really. "A name like 'the Knave' really isn't subtle."

"Funny." She doesn't laugh or even smile. "I believe yours was something close to 'bother'."

You lean back in your chair, testing it slightly as you push the front legs off the floor as a means of entertaining yourself through this frankly dull conversation. "Then I suppose we're both living up to our names."

She remains silent for several seconds, pondering her next words. You can see her fingers rub against the wood of the chair as a distraction.

"The others told me it was pointless to try to bring you back."

"They were right."

"You won't come back for any reason?"

"I know a trap when I see one."

"Of course."

Silence, again. You don't care to break it, either. You came to hear the stories, and you really would like to continue that rather than listening to her voice, but she's not making it easy.

"Is that all now?" Your voice shows your impatience more than you might like, but you realise it may work in your favour if she senses she's annoying you.

For the first time in a while, she smiles faintly to herself. "For now. Your answer is abundantly clear." She appears to concede, if only for a little while

You let the chair land back on all of its legs and lean your elbow on the table.

"Are you going to get out of that chair?"

"No."

"And why is that?"

"It's comfortable."

The urge to roll your eyes brims in your mind, but you stop yourself. You don't want to give the Knave the satisfaction of knowing something she is already well aware of. Besides that, you don't want her to know that you really don't want her here in any capacity. Arlecchino's presence is never a good thing.

You let out a tentative breath as you consider your next words quite carefully. The wrong thing might have Arlecchino never leaving you, and the right one might drive her back to Snezhnaya if you're lucky. You shift your whole body to face her. "You just arrived from Snezhnaya, I take it. What do you want to eat?"

She eyes you suspiciously, scrutinising you for any sign of trying to fool her into consuming poison or making herself sick. "You're feeding me now?"

You pretend you don't notice her intensity. "Well, you're not leaving. It would look strange for me to order food for myself."

Again she smiles to herself, a light mockery that's cautious and testing, easing herself into accepting your offer. "I wasn't aware you cared so much."

"You could starve if you'd prefer." You turn away as you speak and don't look back, shifting yourself back in your seat to be front-facing.

There's a quietness between the two of you, both waiting for the answer to your proposal. You have an inkling Arlecchino will accept, but you don't know with her. She never seemed especially pleased by the times the Jester would convene you all over meals and such, ending up in fights and bickering. She never fought with you, however, so perhaps it's different.

"Order whatever you like."

You find yourself looking intently at a list of the options on the menu. It's quite a lengthy list. "Mm..." Even though it's just a false invitation and you're doing it to be courteous, you can't say you aren't enjoying the thought of picking out a meal and sharing it with her. Despite your removal from the Fatui's affairs for some time, you'd be lying if you thought you weren't at least a little curious. "Jade Parcels...and maybe Jade Fruit Soup? But Dragon Beard Noodles sound good too..."

Becoming slightly irritated by your indecision, Arlecchino looks across the table to where you are sitting deep in thought. "Is it that complicated of a decision?"

You spare her only a glance before returning to looking for something she would enjoy. "I have to pick something you'll like, don't I?"

Soup is more challenging to share than noodles are.

With that, your decision is made, and you settle. Despite yourself, you are somewhat restless in thought. Arlecchino's lack of contribution is slightly frustrating, but it sounds like she'd be content with anything. You're not sure if your choice is the correct one, but you believe you picked something to the best of your abilities that is easy, even to a foreign tongue. As far as you know, Arlecchino is from Fontaine. You've never eaten like this with Arlecchino to know her tastes or dietary restrictions.

"Jade Parcels and Dragon Beard Noodles. Sound good?"

"It'll do."

"Good. I'll go order it, then."

Arlecchino must be surprised that you returned, as she doesn't seem too thrilled. She never really does, but there was a disappointed glint in her eye right up until you walked in front of her to get to your chair.

It continues until you get the food, and Arlecchino finally stares at it with an overwhelming sense of dread, left with an intense feeling of apprehension regarding whether. You appear not to hesitate, though this arrangement isn't quite what she had expected. Arlecchino had thought you would order enough dishes that you wouldn't have to share, but you seemed to understand it in a way that meant you would be eating from the same bowl.

You notice her hesitation almost immediately, yet your vexation with her arrival makes you unwilling to acknowledge that you know the reason, a deliberate miscommunication on your part. "Mm. I didn't think this through." Your words seem to make her perk up as if you will free her from her awkwardness by asking for another bowl. "You probably aren't used to using chopsticks, are you? Not many dishes that need those back home."

She knows you're toying with her, that sweet smile from across the table hardly hiding your true intentions. Arlecchino waits, watching to see what you will do next, as she looks back at you with a scowl.

Her eyes do not leave you as you wordlessly collect a Jade Parcel and present it to her like you are patronising her with this action. Your feigned kindness, this supposed benevolence of you offering to feed her like a child, no doubt hoping she'll back down and excuse herself completely.

She won't let you do that and have the satisfaction of seeing her back down. She won't allow you to break her facade of acceptance.

Though you circle the food in front of her slowly, only a motion with your fingers trying to convince her or make her as uncomfortable as possible, Arlecchino continues to stare for several more moments. Eventually, she musters the courage to relinquish some of her pride.

Arlecchino leans in slightly, just enough to open her mouth and take a bite from the food you hold out for her. Despite the circumstances that led to this moment, she can't help but acknowledge your good taste. Arlecchino couldn't possibly eat another bite that way, though. Not being fed by the woman who is now her adversary just to avoid her 'winning' in the situation, but admitting she is willing to let you get under her skin is not an option either.

She must treat this situation differently, as if you are merely feeding her out of obligation to her rather than because you have your own motives.

It hardly stops her from enjoying her portion of the meal from the chopsticks you share with her. At some point, it finally occurs to her that you only hold one pair, leaving her set untouched despite feeding her. You had been feeding her with the same set you ate with the entire time, and while you were well aware of that, it hardly seemed to alarm you as much as it alarmed her.

Your biggest disappointment was being unable to get rid of her that whole time, watching her readily accept whatever you tried to use against her. Watching a Harbinger practically bow their head and obey you, however, fuels your consciousness. It's like eye candy to think back and realise you did that.

It's another one of your quiet defiances against the Tsaritsa. You wonder how far you can take it.

As you stand from your seat, you stretch your arms above your head until you hear a faint pop as all the tension in your back relaxes. "I don't imagine you'll be leaving anytime soon."

"No. I have plenty of business outside of you." It's not a lie. She's got a lot to do in Liyue even without your presence, but you're a priority.

You lean back over your chair, a mischievous little look on your face. "Do tell."

"You know that I can't do that." She's not amused by the attempt, either.

You straighten back to your usual height and brush it off in moments. "Unfun. I thought your loyalty to the Tsaritsa could be won over easily."

She scowls. "Not by you."

"I see. You have standards after all."

She chooses to ignore your comment. Up until now, you have had quick-fire conversations, sometimes interrupted by a silence that drags on. This is no exception.

"Capitano truly believes you are dead." Arlecchino realises when she has caught your attention, and that time is now. She notices how your head tilts towards her ever so slightly, and your head raises. "For a time, he grieved, but it didn't last long. He has become fixated on the idea of revenge ever since he heard that Brighella's killer was running around boasting about their achievements with the authentic armour to support their claims."

Suddenly it makes some small amount of sense in your mind why they would want you to come back exactly. Capitano won't stay put forever. If he's stuck on vengeance, he won't rest until he exacts it. You weren't thinking about how much your stories would piss him off at the time.

When you spend an extended period of time silent and seemingly disinclined to answer, Arlecchino continues. "I want to show you to him."

You have subjected him to human emotions he's not equipped to deal with. Rightfully, you feel horrible like more of your failures are being wrenched from your corner and dumped out into the open for all to see. It doesn't matter that you're in Liyue, where nobody knows the two of you. You don't want them to see either.

"He wouldn't want to see me." You don't think she really wanted to hear those words when you finally speak. Her expression gives it away. "He should enjoy his position without my interference. I've ruined his life enough."

"You've given him power and status, he should be grateful for that--"

"No. He shouldn't." You don't even wait for her to finish. She hasn't even realised it yet. Not the way you've been forced to. That power is a detriment, not a blessing. Why should he want that? "I thought that way as well, but now I…I don't think my choice was the correct one."

Arlecchino was not expecting to evoke your vulnerability, shallow as it may be for now. "What choice?"

"To bring him back from the abyss."

From a purely objective perspective, taking in Capitano was the cause of everything. Arlecchino presumably thinks of it in the way you don't want her to, that you regret taking him in because he ultimately ruined everything for you, causing your world to fall apart. You don't. You wish you hadn't dragged him down with you.

Now Capitano still dealing with the consequences of your choices. He was perfectly satisfied where he was and would've remained that way had he not been caught up in your plans. It was your arrogance that made you think Capitano would prefer to come with you. At no point in your first interaction had he indicated he was displeased in his circumstances, only hostile because humans were so close to him. It is an understandable thing, considering that humans were a foreign concept to him and potentially posed a threat.

"Because he overtook you?"

There it is.

Despite her words, she appears to have dropped her irritated expression and the impatience in her words and actions. You are finally speaking, and she won't lose that opportunity to an avoidable break in her temper.

"No. No, nothing like that." You try to find the words to explain it, even knowing she likely wouldn't understand it in her current position. You doubt she could ever comprehend it with how she treats her loyalty. "It's more like… Off the record, though I was cherished for many years, even I eventually became disposable. I have left Capitano in the hands of the person who caused that, and now I have damned him to the same fate."

Arlecchino is silent in thought, mulling over your words with great care. The tone of the conversation shifted right under your noses, and with it, so did her demeanour. She became relaxed in a way, though you imagine no less guarded than she always is. "I fail to see how your performance declined. In fact, you are more necessary now than you have ever been."

"I see." In your head, that means she's on your side to a degree. "So you believe that my termination was a mistake?"

"A grave error at best." Her words only confirm the way you thought of it. "Even if you had declined in performance, the people have begun to question more than ever, which sabotages the political landscape of Snezhnaya for those who care about it, the same people who stood idly by while you were ousted. Those who oppose the Fatui are pushing the notion that we must be weaker than we appear, because if even Brighella could die, then what does that say for the rest of us."

Though you wish you could say that concept was inconceivable, the idea that those fighting for reform would seize upon your demise as a means to spur change. It's not shocking that everyone else has been called into question, either. Though it is easy to push the role of frontrunner onto the Director, his duty is mainly administrative, as is the case with many high-ranking positions. His wrath is quick and brutal, and sparse. Dottore is too busy with his disgusting hobbies, and Columbina must remain in the light as a figure they can cling to. That leaves the position of Fourth as the one who is publicly the most violent and ruthless, which used to fall to you.

"I see. Is that why they want me to come back?" You don't expect an honest answer as you ask that question, half anticipating another play at your heartstrings.

"No."

Frustratingly, she doesn't elaborate.

"I'll only agree to return if Capitano is free to do as he wishes."

She scoffs, somewhat returning to her brash attitude. "Even if I could make that decision, we're well past the point where that's a possibility."

You know that she's correct in that.

Still, you can't stop the sight you let out. You knew the request was wonderful in theory but inconceivable in practice, but asking never hurt anyone. "Then what do you want from me? I take it that though I'm only a stagehand, my part in the theatre is not yet over."

"Is that how you see it?"

"Answer my question."

"Execution."

You pause at her answer.

"Execution?"

You're not even sure you heard her correctly. The execution of who? Brighella has already been put to death, and Capitano has barely warmed his seat among the Harbingers. Nobody left in this is worth killing, given the precarious nature of the Fatui's support in the aftermath of Brighella's murder. It was already unstable, and now things are just worse, with no better word to describe.

You doubt they made the decision lightly.

"Execution. Your execution for the murder of Brighella and crimes against the state."

Your nerves instantly spike again, and your guard is higher than ever. At any moment, you could need to draw your bow and fight her because even though you're unsure of how to treat this life, you're not ready to give it up. No foe has scared you before, and neither will the prospect of rebuilding from square one.

"I see, so you've come to extradite me."

"You read my intentions horribly. I'm impressed you managed to make it so far like that."

You furrow your brows in annoyance. "Then what?"

"The values of the Fatui no longer align with mine." The assertion draws your attention more than anything else. You have always been aware that she is unconcerned with the ideas of loyalty and honour, which you can't fault her for. Abiding by the code of honour the Tsaritsa instilled in you left you here.

You may be completely wrong, but she was so vague and doesn't seem to be waiting to say anything else. "Is this your way of telling me you're deserting the Fatui?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"You so happen to be someone I like."

You're startled by that as well. As far as you were aware, the decision to do nothing in the face of your dismissal was unanimous. You thought Capitano was your only remaining ally. Even if she's the lowest ranking, that is not indicative of power in an objective sense but of authority. In a sense, she is the new 'you' of the Harbingers, as she always was to a degree.

Blame for the disorder is shifting in your absence to her.

"Because I cleaned the messes you now manage?"

"Because you aren't cowardly and fixated on politics but inhibited by them. You are a model of what is right." You can't say you follow what she's saying but allow her to continue. "Pulcinella and even Pierro refuse to travel abroad, always making excuses to shirk their jobs when faced with danger in order to comfortably remain in luxury. From the day I joined, you stood out to me in that way."

You raise an eyebrow at her, unimpressed by whatever she's trying to do right now. "Are you trying to flatter me into coming back?"

"I was telling the truth." She doesn't look impressed, either.

You feel a little embarrassed by that, suddenly feeling as though you really had responded quite rudely to an innocent statement. "Hearing a person idolise me is strange," you admit.

"It's not idolising." Her correction is sharp.

"Sounded close enough."

Silence again, as with the pauses scattered around the rest of your conversation. You aren't catapulting the topic into something of great interest or progressing, and neither is Arlecchino. Her lips press into a thin line trying to hide any cracks and stifle any emotion that slips through.

"I admire you."

You did not realise such a thing was possible, really.

"I thought you may have remembered the times we shared and think fondly of it, but perhaps not. We fought once- maybe twice- before. We drank together. Nothing else."

To end that statement with 'nothing else' as if to reduce every conversation, interaction, hour and experience to ashes is thoughtless at best. You didn't remember either instance in which Arlecchino believes you fought and still don't, though you try to now that you have come to find it apparently happened. If it did, the chances of you actually remembering is slim to none with how your memory is. It's not that you forget things quickly, but that minor events slip through the cracks in your frankly chock-full memory.

"I don't remember them, I'm sorry."

"I didn't expect you to."

Despite her words, there is a faint bittersweetness to it, the realisation you are insignificant to the person you aspire toward being like. Somewhere, even if she is aware it was always not only a possibility but highly likely, it still feels like a letdown, the fragile hope you might remember her strength. You only remember her drunken and all too enamoured by you to think properly. It is foolish of her to feel that way because you have battled many foes, and expecting you to remember all of them, let alone your underling, is unreasonable.

"You still haven't answered my question." Changing the topic, you take the opportunity to try to direct her back to what you asked in the first place. "Why are you really here?"

"The Jester gave me permission to pursue you, believing I would attempt to convince you to return to Snezhnaya after Columbina failed." As Arlecchino begins to explain, it slowly begins to make sense as the pieces fall neatly into place. "However, I have no interest in appeasing the wants of dignitaries who care only for their comfort."

You don't want that either. It's just a repeat of Capitano. "Do you understand how dangerous what you're doing is?" It's an attempt to remind her, but Arlecchino's unwavering expression tells you that reminders are unnecessary and unwanted.

"Yes, you were removed for less." She only confirms it for you. "Dottore is of the opinion that you will be forgotten, as are several others-" you imagine singling him out has something to do with them fighting all the time- "but that is simply impossible."

"Times change. You would be surprised how many things we thought would never be forgotten that humans have completely lost all knowledge of."

To her, that concept may be harder to swallow. Arlecchino has never seen the centuries roll by as you have and isn't as familiar with what does and does not remain. Even the greatest gods fell in the Archon War, and most humans cannot name any but the seven Archons. It is natural to forget and progress. The past is meant to become speculation and theory.

"I won't allow that." Abruptly she stops, though her sudden words startle you somewhat with how intense they are. That kind of illogical thought process is natural, maybe. You can't really say. "They could remember."

You shake your head in response, a firm denial before she's even begun to try and sell you on the idea. "There's no need for them to remember."

"There is every need."

"People don't glean the same admiration you do for someone they see as a tyrant."

"Then evoke fear!"

"Enough." You did not expect to have to put your foot down so harshly but do not hesitate to. "I won't entertain this."

Arlecchino grits her teeth at how easily you let go. Even though you are obviously not acclimated to civilian life, you refuse her offer that would allow you to return to Snezhnaya in a potential position of power. It is yet another failed step in the many she expected to have to take to convince you.

"Then let me hide you until some time passes."

"I'm not a precious treasure." She ignores how you roll your eyes at her, completely withdrawing how emotionally available you had managed to be. She can't let her anger take control of her again. "I can handle myself thank you very much."

You sense she will not be giving up easily.

Even if you could convince her to leave you to your devices and that you would be fine, you doubt she would accept that. However, you have a feeling she knows you intend to disappear after this conversation. You have no idea why else she would pour her heart out in an attempt to make you easier to keep hold of. If you leave, you hold the advantage.

"I cannot continue to defend your honour while you stand by and allow them to do as they please with your name."

That doesn't worry you too much when you've been contributing to it since leaving. "Then give up. Let my name be tarnished."

Arlecchno's anger finally begins to boil over despite her efforts to contain it, rage spilling from the cracks in her composure. "You cannot have forgotten everything we did together."

"Of course I have not forgotten that." Your words are more fuel than suffocation to the growing fire.

"Then accept my help and stop being so stubborn."

"There's no need to."

She grabs you by your arm before you can step away, and you can feel a chill in her hand seep into your skin, likely a byproduct of her delusion. It doesn't hurt, but it doesn't match well with how warm you are most of the time. "You would be willing to pretend you don't wish for normalcy to avoid confronting the Tsaritsa?"

"If I return to Snezhnaya, I will die." You lay it out as directly as possible, without an if, but or and. There's no room to debate this because the outcome will not change. Even if the two of you decide you're best friends, nobody else will see things that way, so it's pointless to pretend you don't see it as it has to be.

Arlecchino finally appears to consider your words more carefully, remaining silent again, but you do not interrupt her this time. You shift your focus to the icy hand still touching you and begin to channel what little you can of your vision without drawing your bow to warm her. You hope she doesn't notice it, not wanting her to find an ulterior motive in it.

"Then it is unavoidable."

You don't quite understand what she is saying until she removes her hand from you to place something on the table you shared.

Suspiciously, you eye the item as you wonder about the significance of abandoning it beyond the obvious, but you don't want to acknowledge that option. "You'll need your insignia if you wish to return." You needn't remind her of that, but it is a prompting statement.

Arlecchino shocks you with her next words.

"I'm remaining with you."

You stand in stunned silence for several seconds, replaying them over in your head. Remaining with you. She doesn't mean that, does she? This is another of her persuasion tactics, right? She cannot actually go through with this. "You're what?"

"I'm not going back to Snezhnaya."

That only confirms your fear, the chill of it rushing to the core of your being and lighting your nerves up with an icy cold. Maybe that's just the hand touching your cheek.

"You can't. You shouldn't. You should stay there."

She makes an odd face at you, half understanding of your plight and the other confused about why you care so much about what she does with her job. "In that place you curse yourself for leaving Capitano?"

"It's a comfortable position." You try to reason that way with her, pointing out the inarguable benefit.

"I don't care for comfort."

You scramble to find another reason, something else to make her give in and pick it back up. You have not gotten anything you attempted to get this night. Arlecchino didn't leave and is, in fact, intent on leaving the Fatui to continue that.

"I don't care to waste my time pandering to people who do not value what I provide for them, all the while relying on it."

That's not a reason you wish to say, but it is. It is a very real reason. You can see it in how the Fatui regards your circumstances that they have never found enough value in the mountain of work you took on. If they had, you wouldn't be having this conversation. She's right, you realise, she realised what you could not.

"Even if you do not allow it, I would be able to follow you." It's a strange thing to say, but maybe she was trying to convince you. Her arm falls back to her side.

You shake your head. "Humans tire."

"I won't be too slow."

It's different for her. Arlecchino doesn't hulk around a bulky suit of armour and a helmet to conceal her face. It is open and well-known. There will be places she can't ever travel to again. Her life will be this and nothing else, while yours will eventually become something else, as it was always supposed to. Even if you don't want to now, you will move on and find a new sense of self. She may never.

"There are grave consequences."

"I know."

"You may never know peace."

"I can live with that."

"You--"

--will question everything you have ever known. That was what you were about to say. You again come to a realisation that clears things for you. It's different. Arlecchino has not spent her whole life dedicated to serving the Tsaritsa, only a few years at best. You spent centuries. It is no wonder that she could give it all up so easily. Arlecchino only had one foot in the door in the first place.

The realisation dawning on you this way is daunting.

"...Fine. I will accept that." Though you thought you would struggle more, you also understand that it is useless to do so.

"A good choice."

The act of conceding can bring about a sense of relief and comfort. Conceding feels nice, in a way. It is a respite from constantly controlling everything to be exactly as you wish. It allows you the freedom of simply acknowledging the reality of a situation and accept that it may not align with your ideals, even if you don't necessarily like it.

You don't want Arlecchino to accompany you for her sake, but accepting that she will not share your fate of being humiliated can bring about a sense of peace. She will live however she pleases, and that means she may not want for the same future you received. Having a free will allows her to leave.

Slowly, you try to recover from the shock of the situation. As you take in a deep, quivering breath, you begin to steady yourself and attemt to process all that is unfolding.

A single question comes to your mind, a relatively simple one but significant enough to matter greatly.

"What is your name?"

CROSSPOSTED ON AO3

#♡ — kae.#✎ — one of repetition.#✦ — scenarios.#✦ — angst.#arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x female reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x female reader #genshin x female reader

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