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#if you need this tagged with something pls ask i know this is unlike what i post usually
whumpitisthen · 2 years
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Hello i dont know who needs to hear this but do not post content for notes. This goes for anything, but especially OC content. I see so many people being like "oh tumblr doesn't really like my oc so i guess i shouldn't really post about them... :(" YES THE FUCK YOU SHOULD??? It's made to make y o u happy not randos on the internet! And if the only reason you post anything at all is for notes then while it's your choice and you can do whatever you want, i would advise you to rethink why you even post anything, especially on tumblr of all places, where likes mean nothing more than how many people saw it, and reblogs are a blessing from heaven and happen about 2 times out of 100?? if your creative joy comes solely from the attention of strangers, that isn't the healthiest mindset, and this is the worst possible social media outlet to practice it on. You should create because you want to create, and if low numbers stop you from doing so, take a brake from whatever you need, be it posting, looking at numbers or straight up looking at social media all together.
Anyway, whether you write, draw, animate, edit, compose, whatever, for either a fandom or original content: post for yourself first and foremost, and never, NEVER EVER let notes decide if you want to create more or not. I promise you, you are making some people kind of sad when you say things like "well you didn't give me enough attention so im not gonna post that thing you liked so much anymore." Im sure you dont even realize, but that is basically what it sounds like to the people who did in fact give attention to your unpopular posts.
Im sorry if this sounds mean or like im targeting people who have to beg for a single reblog from the hundreds of people liking their posts, I don't mean it like that at all, its just something ive been seeing a lot more of recently for some odd reason and that i am so physically against that i could tear down a whole building with my bare hands and rage whenever i see it.
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springtyme · 3 months
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farleigh start x f!reader
make it based on the party scene where he sniffs the “nose candy” off the girls hand
PLS THE FARLEIGH GIRLS ARE STARVING😫
𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 ♡
Thank you for the request ♡ I know you didn’t asked for smut per se, but I got a little carried away. I hope that’s okay, and hopefully can help feed the Farleigh girls a little ♡
Farleigh Start x afab!reader || Masterlist || Farleigh playlist
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summary: You can’t help but feel a rush of conflicting emotions as you stand before him. Part of you wants to turn around and walk away, to avoid the inevitable clash that always seems to occur when the two of you are in the same vicinity. But another part of you, a part that you try to keep buried deep within, is drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
word count: 4.5k
warning/tags: smut! (18+, mdni!) Language. Drug use (cocaine). Vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, blowjob, cum swallowing. Enemies to lovers (kinda?). I had pan4bi in mind when I wrote this, but readers sexually didn’t really end up getting mentioned, but Farleigh is definitely pan/queer like in canon. This whole thing kinda started out as one thing but turned into something completely different, so just to clear any possible confusion, Reader is best friends with Venetia, being childhood friends with her and Felix, and that is how she knows Fairleigh. Reader are enrolled in a university in Cambridge, unlike Fairleigh who is in Oxford. No proofreading.
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The dimly lit room is illuminated by a dazzling array of colourful lights, flickering and dancing in sync with the music. The deep reverberations of the bass are sending tremors through your body, a pulsating rhythm thumping within your chest, and even piercing your eardrums, but in the best way possible. 
The scent of spilled drinks and way too expensive perfumes and colognes are hanging in the air, mixing with the distinct smell of sweat that, no matter what, or no matter how rich you are, you’ll never be able to avoid when this many people are in one place, drinking and dancing at once. It’s filling the space with a raw, primal energy, an energy which you can feel resonate within you, right into the very marrow of your bones. 
You find yourself surrendering to the music, letting it guide your every movement as you roll your hips to the beat, grinding against the solid body behind you, enjoying the feeling of big strong hands on your waist. You don’t know his name and you like it that way. You’ve been needing this, it’s finally summer, you’re finally on break and away from Cambridge and you have every intent of enjoying it to the fullest. 
As you let yourself be carried away by the music and the pulsating energy of the room, your eyes wander around the crowd. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, your gaze meets the eyes of someone familiar, someone you had hoped to avoid, despite knowing it wouldn’t be possible. 
As your gaze locks with his, a mix of emotions floods through you. A wave of annoyance washes over you, quickly followed by a surge of frustration. 
Fucking Farleigh, the embodiment of everything you despise, stands across the room, his tall frame towering over the crowd. He’s always been a thorn in your side, pushing your buttons and challenging you at every turn. The tension between you has always been palpable, a constant battle of wits and wills.
The memories of countless arguments and bitter exchanges flood your mind, reminding you of all the reasons why you can’t stand him. Farleigh, with his arrogant smirk, like he always knows something that you don’t know, and his condescending remarks, has always managed to get under your skin. And now, here he is, invading your sanctuary of escape. 
And yet, and this is something you would never admit out loud to anyone, you have always felt strangely drawn to him, a magnetic pull that you’ve never been able to fully understand. A complicated connection, really, filled with both desire and deep annoyance.
You tear your eyes away, trying to regain your composure and ignore the magnetic pull drawing you towards him. You focus your attention back on the music, trying to lose yourself in its enchanting melody and forget about Farleigh’s presence. The pulsating beats and the heat of the body pressing against yours conspire to distract you, urging you to let go and revel in the moment. You move with more intensity, swaying your hips and allowing your body to glide effortlessly with the rhythm.
But despite your attempts to ignore him, Farleigh’s image persists in your mind, and it is as if you can feel his piercing eyes on you, burning your skin. The curiosity battles with your annoyance, leaving you conflicted and uncertain.
As the music reaches a crescendo, you can’t resist the pull any longer. With a mix of defiance and determination, you break away from the stranger behind you, making your way through the crowd in Farleigh’s direction. Not because you want to speak to him, of course not, you just want to find Venetia, Farleigh just happens to stand right next to the door.  
As you approach Farleigh, you can’t help but notice the way his eyes follow your every move. A flicker of amusement dances in his gaze, as if he knows the effect he has on you. Just as you’re about to pass him, Farleigh steps in front of you, a sly smile playing on his lips, the strobe lights flickering across his face, highlighting his features with pink and purple, and you feel how a warm flutter swoops through your stomach. Someone who is that annoying really don’t have any business being that handsome. 
You try to step past him, but he moves with a frustrating grace, blocking your path once more. “What do you want, Farleigh?” you huff, your tone laced with impatience. 
But he doesn’t answer you at first, instead, he just keeps the weird little dance going, with you trying to push past him to get through the door, and him stepping in front of you, blocking your way, until you finally take a step back, glaring up at him and you can’t help but feel a rush of conflicting emotions as you stand before him like this. 
Part of you wants to turn around and walk away, to avoid the inevitable clash that always seems to occur when the two of you are in the same vicinity. But another part of you, a part that you try to keep buried deep within, is drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and it fucking frustarites you.
His voice, when he finally speaks, is a low, velvety whisper that resonates deep within your core. “Long time no see,” he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The scent of his cologne invades your senses, stirring up a confusing mixture of attraction and deep irritation. 
With a deep breath, you muster up all the strength you have and respond, trying to match his nonchalant tone. “I was actually hoping to keep it that way,” you reply, crossing your arms.
Farleigh’s smirk widens slightly, and you can see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Well, that I find a little hard to believe. We are in my house, aren’t we?” he remarks, leaning in closer, his voice dripping with a hint of sarcasm.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes, knowing that it would only fuel his satisfaction. Instead, you take a moment to study him. His sharp features are highlighted by the colourful lights surrounding you. Despite your frustration with him, there’s no denying that he has a certain magnetism that draws people in. “I wouldn’t exactly say it’s your house.” You retort, raising an eyebrow. “More like uncle’s house, isn’t it?”
Farleigh chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “Touché,” he says, his voice laced with amusement. “But you can’t deny that it’s my domain.”
You scoff, unable to resist a small smirk. “Domain? More like your little playground.”
His eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of challenge in his gaze. “Funny, because I always thought you were the one who loved a good game.”
The air between you crackles with tension, the familiar dance of wit and banter that has always characterised your interactions. Despite your annoyance with Farleigh, there’s a part of you that thrives on the exhilaration of this verbal sparring. “Maybe I do, but I have no interest in playing with you.”
Farleigh’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by a look of genuine curiosity. “No interest at all?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of intrigue. “I find that hard to believe. You’ve always seemed to enjoy our little tête-à-têtes.”
You resist the urge to let your guard down, refusing to let him see how much his words affect you. “Just because I enjoy a challenge doesn’t mean I enjoy dealing with you,” you reply, your tone sharp and dismissive.
Farleigh’s gaze intensifies, his eyes searching yours as if trying to uncover a hidden truth. “Is that so?” he says, his voice low and velvety. “Because I have a feeling there’s more to it than that. I think you actually enjoy the tension between us, the push and pull.”
You scoff, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that his words are hitting too close to home. “You think too highly of yourself,” you retort, attempting to sound unaffected by his observation.
Farleigh takes a step closer, his presence seeming to fill the space between you. “Maybe,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I also think you’re intrigued by me. Admit it, there’s a part of you that wants to know what it would be like to give in to that pull.”
Your heart races at his words, a mixture of anger and desire swirling within you. “You’re delusional,” you snap, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.
Farleigh’s expression softens, his eyes searching yours with a newfound tenderness. “Am I?” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. The intensity of his gaze leaves you momentarily speechless, your mind racing to make sense of the conflicting emotions coursing through you. You’ve spent so long trying to resist him, to keep him at a distance, but now, in this moment, it feels impossible to deny the undeniable connection between you.
Farleigh leans in closer, his breath warming your ear as he speaks. “You can pretend all you want, but I see right through you.” His voice is laced with a mixture of confidence and mystery that sends a shiver down your spine. Suddenly, all the people around you disappear, the only thing that matters in that moment is the charged tension between you and Farleigh. It’s as if you’re existing in a world of your own, completely detached from reality.
You can’t resist the pull any longer. “Oh, can you now..?” You murmur, slowly, you reach out your hand to wipe a stray piece of glitter away from under his eye, letting your thumb gently graze his cheek. His eyes darken with a mix of surprise and anticipation, his lips parting slightly as if attempting to say something. But before a single word can escape, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his in a passionate, desperate kiss. 
Everything around you fades away as the electricity between you ignites, the world falling away as you become enraptured by the intensity of the moment. All the pent-up frustration and desire explode in that single act of surrender and defiance.
In this moment, you can no longer deny the complicated connection that exists between you. The magnetic pull, the mix of desire and annoyance, it all becomes clearer as you lose yourself in the kiss. The room around you becomes a blur, the music and the crowd transformed into mere background noise.
The kiss breaks, leaving you both breathless and gasping for air, but the connection remains. You meet Farleigh’s gaze, a smouldering fire burning in his eyes. And in that silent exchange, the tension and chemistry between you cannot be ignored any longer. 
Farleigh’s lips curl into a satisfied smile, his eyes never leaving yours. “I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he whispers, his voice husky with desire.
You raise an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and defiance in your expression. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” you retort, trying to regain your composure. “This doesn’t mean anything.”
Farleigh’s smile widens, and he takes a step closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “Oh, it means something, alright,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a tantalising promise. 
A shiver runs down your spine at his words, a rush of anticipation flooding through you. As much as you want to deny it, there’s a part of you that craves the excitement and intensity that comes with being with Farleigh. You know it won’t be easy, and there will be challenges along the way, but you can’t help but be drawn to him.
With a mix of determination and vulnerability, you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “Fine, it does mean something,” you whisper, your voice filled with both defiance and longing. As the words escape your lips, you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. The intensity between you and Farleigh has reached its breaking point, and you both know it. Without saying a word, you take Farleigh’s hand and lead him out of the room and through the big, crowded house searching for a place of solitude, finally finding it in the form of an unoccupied bathroom on the second floor. 
The sounds of the party fade into the background as you step inside, the quietness amplifying the intensity of the moment. Farleigh takes a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “Are you sure you want this?” he asks, his voice low and filled with a mix of concern and desire.
You meet his gaze, your own eyes filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I want to find out.” 
Farleigh’s lips curl into a knowing smile, the fiery desire in his eyes never wavering. He takes another step closer, closing the distance between you, his hand inching up to gently cup your cheek. You can feel the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, electrifying every nerve in your body.
In that moment, any last doubt or hesitation you might have felt fades away as the intense pull between you becomes undeniable. You lean into his touch, closing your eyes and letting yourself get lost in the moment. His thumb caresses your cheek, and his voice, filled with a mixture of longing and assurance, whispers, “I’ll make it worth it.”
A surge of anticipation courses through your veins as Farleigh’s thumb brushes against your lips, tracing their outline with a delicate touch. Without even thinking, your own hand finds its way to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. The air around you is heavy with desire and expectation.
As your lips collide once again, the passion between you ignites, consuming you both in a fiery haze. The bathroom echoes with the rapid beating of your hearts and the soft gasps that escape your lips. Farleigh’s kiss is both tender and intense, his lips moving against yours with a fervour that matches your own. This single act of surrender has unleashed a whirlwind of emotions, leaving you craving more. 
You start to walk backwards, until your back gently bumps into the vanity cabinet of the sink, without breaking the kiss even once. You first break the kiss as Farleigh’s hands find your hips, helping you jump up the counter. Your already short dress, hiking even higher up your thigh as you spread your legs to let him step in between them. “You got any nose candy?” you pant, making Farleigh chuckle, his breath warm against your lips as he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. 
“I think you already know the answer, don’t you?” he replies, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and desire. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small vial of white powder and setting it on the counter.
He carefully measures out a small amount of the powder, offering it to you on the back of his hand. You take a deep breath, feeling a rush of nerves mixed with excitement. With only a very short flicker of hesitation, you lean in, snorting the powder through your nose. The effects are immediate, a surge of warmth and euphoria washing over you.
Farleigh takes your hand, putting the vial to it to make a line for himself, but you stop him before any of the coke has left the container. “No, here.” You say, placing your hand behind you on the counter and leaning back, exposing your bare collarbone, inviting him to snort the line off your skin. Farleigh’s eyes widen, clearly liking your suggestion, his gaze locked on the vulnerable expanse of your skin before a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, lining up a stripe for himself.   
As he leans in, his breath tickles your skin. His fingers, delicate and precise, trace the line of the cocaine on your collarbone before he leans down, his lips brushing against your skin as he inhales the white powder. A shiver races through your body at the touch of his lips against your sensitive skin, the combination of the drug’s rush and Farleigh’s proximity sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You both linger in this moment, caught between desire and the heightened state induced by the substance. Everything in the bathroom seems to fade away as you focus on the connection between you and Farleigh - the electric current that flows between your bodies, the shared need for a temporary escape. Farleigh pulls back, his eyes dark and heavy with desire as he locks his gaze with yours. 
“Come here,” you all but moan, making him chuckle. The lingering scent of his luxurious cologne fills the air, prompting you to inch closer on the countertop, savouring every breath of him. You reach out, pulling Farleigh closer as you crash your lips together once more, the kiss growing even more passionate and heated than before. And as the kiss deepens even more, Farleigh’s hands start to explore your body, one trailing up your thigh while the other gently cups your cheek. Your own hands roam eagerly over his frame, feeling the heat and power emanating from him.
The bathroom becomes a blur of sensations, the feel of his hands on you, the taste of his lips on yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne surrounding you. Time seems to lose all meaning as you lose yourself in the moment, giving in to the intoxicating combination of pleasure and desire. As he finally breaks the kiss, his lips trail a path down your neck, leaving a trail of sweet kisses in their wake. The heat between you builds with each passing moment, every touch and caress leaving you craving for more.
As Farleigh’s lips find their way to the sensitive curve of your collarbone, you let out a soft gasp, a jolt of pleasure shooting through your body, his touch igniting a fire within you. His hands roam over your thigh, inching higher and higher, until he reaches the delicate fabric of your now soaked panties, carefully teasing and brushing against your most sensitive area. Your breath hitches in anticipation as his touch sends a surge of arousal coursing through you.
Unable to contain your desire any longer, you guide his hand to where you need him most, sliding your panties to the side. His fingers waste no time in exploring, gently parting your slick folds and finding your throbbing clit. Soft moans escape your lips as he circles his fingers around your sensitive bud, the pleasure building with every stroke. “Damn, you’re so wet,” he whispers huskily, his voice laced with desire. His fingers skillfully dance along your swollen nub, expertly coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. 
The bathroom becomes a sanctuary of pleasure and intimacy as Farleigh expertly works his fingers, gradually increasing the rhythm and pressure. You tilt your head back, surrendering yourself completely to the ecstasy flooding your senses. You arch your back, pressing yourself closer to his hand, eager for more. The need for release consumes you, the overwhelming sensation heightening with each passing second. Farleigh, ever attuned to your desires, gives you exactly what you crave. His fingers quicken their pace, increasing the pressure against your throbbing clit, using his other hand to push, first one, then two, fingers into your craving cunt, pumping into you, while still working your clit. 
Lost in the blissful haze, you feel your walls tighten around his fingers, signalling your imminent release. Every touch becomes electrifying as you chase that elusive peak. And when the wave of pleasure crashes over you, it’s all-consuming. Your body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your moans echoing off the bathroom walls. 
“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he whispers, his voice raw with desire as he continues to ride out your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure with his skilled fingers. He keeps his touch steady and relentless, expertly drawing out every ounce of bliss from your pulsing core. It’s a relentless dance of pleasure and sensation, leaving you gasping for breath as the ecstasy courses through your veins.
Farleigh withdraws his fingers, the absence of his touch leaves you yearning for more. He brings them to his mouth sucking off your juices. “Fuck… you taste good, I think I need to get a better taste, baby” he smirks. 
“Please, Farleigh,” you hate that you’re begging, but fuck how you need more of him. “N-need more…” you squirm a little in your seat, squeezing your thighs together in anticipation. Farleigh smirks again, unlike you he is clearly very glad to hear how pleading and desperate you are for him. 
He sinks to his knees before you and slowly pulls your soaked panties down your legs, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable before him all the while keeping eye contact with you. Without a word, he leans in, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. His lips brush against your inner thighs, teasingly light and gentle, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you. As his mouth moves closer to your throbbing core, you grip the edge of the counter, desperately trying to steady yourself. 
The anticipation is almost unbearable, the teasing kisses and licks making you ache for more. Finally, his lips press against your clit, his tongue immediately finding its rhythm as he expertly swirls and flicks, drawing moans of pleasure from deep within you. Each flick of his tongue sends shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, building the pleasure to dizzying heights. He alternates between delicate licks and sucking motions, knowing exactly how to drive you wild. The sensation is overwhelming, and you lose yourself in a haze of pleasure. 
The sounds of your moans fill the room, your pleasure echoing off the walls. You can feel the pressure building inside you, your climax approaching rapidly. And just when you think you can’t hold on any longer, the dam breaks, and you surrender to the powerful waves of your orgasm. Stars explode behind your closed eyelids as your body convulses with pleasure, your voice reaching heights you didn’t know were possible. 
Farleigh doesn’t let up, continuing to lap at your sensitive clit, prolonging your ecstasy until you’re completely spent. As the waves of pleasure subside, he pulls away, a satisfied grin on his face as he looks up at you, his lips glistening with your essence. You struggle to catch your breath, your entire body still trembling from the intensity of your release as Farleigh gets up from the floor. You close your eyes for a second, as you take in the reality you’re living in now, a reality where you have been eaten out by Farleigh fucking Start, and now in this moment you almost can’t recall why you ever disliked him.  
As your body slowly comes down from the heights of pleasure, you open your eyes again, breathing heavily, to find Farleigh staring at you with hunger in his eyes. His own desire is evident, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. Reaching out, you grab hold of his shirt, pulling him closer. “Your turn,” you say, your voice vibrating with anticipation.
A mischievous smile plays on his lips as he realises what you have in mind. Without a word, he unbuttons his shirt, revealing a toned chest. He shrugs off his shirt, allowing it to fall to the floor as he confidently steps out of his shoes. Every movement he makes is deliberate, a display of raw sensuality that only intensifies your desire for him.
With a mixture of excitement and confidence, you jump down from the counter and step toward Farleigh, your legs feel like jelly, but you don’t let that stop you. Your hands find their way to the waistband of his pants, fingers skillfully unfastening them. As his pants pool at his feet, you run your hands up his muscular thighs, feeling the contours of his body beneath your touch.
Your gaze flickers upward, locking eyes with Farleigh, the intensity in his gaze mirrored in your own. Without breaking eye contact, you drop to your knees, fully engulfed in the moment. You trail kisses along his inner thighs, teasing and taunting him. His breath hitching with every kiss, the anticipation in the room building with each passing moment.
As you reach his hardened cock, you wrap your fingers around him, feeling his heat and the pulsing desire that emanates from him. He is big; girthy, with a nice vein lining the underside of his shaft. Your tongue flicks out to taste him, eliciting a low growl from his throat, before you pool spit in your mouth, letting it fall from your mouth and down his shaft. With a combination of skill and eagerness, your mouth encloses around him, the heat and wetness enveloping him. 
As your lips slide up and down his length, you can feel him growing even harder, his breaths becoming more ragged. You use your hand in synchronisation with your mouth, working him tirelessly, determined to bring him to the brink of release, moaning around his cock while breathy praises leaves his mouth.
The bathroom becomes a symphony of moans and heavy breaths as the pleasure builds between you. Your lips and tongue work magic, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. And when he finally succumbs to the overwhelming ecstasy, he spills himself into your waiting mouth, his moans of pleasure echoing off the bathroom walls.
You take him in, savouring the taste of him as his release warms your mouth as you swallow him up. It’s an act of trust and vulnerability, something you, just an hour ago, could never have imagined to be between the two of you. As he finally catches his breath, his hands gently lift your chin, guiding you back to your feet.
Your eyes meet, a shared understanding passing between you. “You know, uh…” you start, Taking in a deep breath. “Venetia asked me to stay for a bit, I’ll be here at Saltburn for the next two weeks.” you whisper, letting the implication of your words hang in the air for a moment.
Farleigh’s eyes widen with surprise, a mixture of excitement and hope flickering in his gaze. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you can see the longing in his eyes.
“Two weeks?” he repeats, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and anticipation. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
You smile, a mix of mischief and desire in your gaze. “I’m saying that we have two weeks to explore this... connection between us,” you reply, your voice filled with a tantalising promise. “But let’s make one thing clear, Farleigh. This doesn’t mean that I like you now,” and you hate how it isn’t really true. 
Farleigh’s smile widens as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “I guess I have two weeks to change that.”
Thank you for reading! If you want, please leave a comment or reblog to let me know what you thought of it ♡ also request for my 1k follower event are open :)
815 notes · View notes
slut4msby · 4 months
Note
the atsumu hny was super cute !!! loved It sm !! I hope you had an amazing new year's celebration!! was jus wondering if you could write something w samu or maybe Kita Shinsuke (24) rice farmer ? btw inarizaki #1 forever 💯
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high school sweethearts. kita shinsuke x fem!reader
+ tags & warnings; fluff for a change of scenery & reader has a kid
+ a/n; I READ THIS AND WENT INSANE OMG I COULD TALK ABT KITA SHINSUKE (24) RICE FARMER FOR EVER. Fun little piece of lea slut4msby lore, when I first watched season 4 I had not read the manga yet and when Kita first came on screen i went insane. Also Kita and I are legally married?? My friends through a fake wedding for me because I was so in love with this man. And pls keep the Inarizaki reqs/asks/anything coming bc i am INSANE about inarizaki (i am normal i swear) <3
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You couldn’t help peer out the window of your shared home with your husband. He was outside with your 5 year old son, playing some volleyball. Your son had never taken a liking to sports until your husband began cleaning out his old stuff, stumbling upon his jersey from his high school years. He would never admit and you would never bring it up but he did get emotional looking back at these days.The days where he led one of the greatest teams, not on the main roster, but he was still aware of the impact he had on the boys. He wasn’t the worst player but nothing notable, however Shinsuke had the power to put anyone at ease and you loved that about him.
Shinsuke never showed much self-confidence when the two of you had met in your first year. It’s not that he didn't have the confidence he just never felt the need to show it, and you appreciated that about him. You appreciate how no matter what Shinsuke was straight the point, you appreciated his need for routine, which has really helped your home life. You appreciate how he loves, how he cares for others. Kita Shinsuke was the perfect man.
However, despite how lucky you feel to have Shinsuke in your life. He feels even more lucky for you, he knows you are his soulmate from the day he met you in the first year. He felt as if all the work he had ever done paid off, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. At the beginning it was just a hallway class, the girl from class 1-6. Having your classes next to each other & both being in advanced classes meant the both of you would have recurring meetings. The next thing he knows, Aran had recruited you as the volleyball clubs manager as the team wouldn’t shut up about not having one. Shinsuke then began spending everyday with you, which turned to every waking second he was with you whenever he could be. He was your best friend, right?
That’s what you had thought. You would have never admitted your crush on Kita that began growing. However his admiration for you began sprouting. He loved the way you smiled, how you got along with everyone, took care of yourself and others, how you tie your shoelaces, how you set out  your notebook, how you played with your hair when you were nervous and how you didn’t seem to fear anything. Unlike him. Kita had put his feelings behind him, until he decided it was now or never, graduation. It was cliche, Shinsuke knew that. He had gotten you a bouquet of flowers, you had mentioned your favourite flowers in a passing conversation the second week of the second year. A useless piece of information, Shinsuke remembered that. Why wouldn’t he? He loved you. That day to Kita’s surprise, you said yes. You agreed to be his girlfriend.
Now, almost 10 years later. Shinsuke was your husband. Those flowers he had given you on graduation day you had pressed, they stayed on display in your kitchen, as well as a photo of you and Shinsuke the day your son was born. Now Shinsuke spent his days as a rice farmer instead of a volleyball player. However seeing him playing with your son reminded you of the man you fell in love with. 
You snapped out of a trance when your son called out to you, “Mum! Look! Dad taught me how to play volleyball like he used to.” You couldn’t help but smile, “He said I was really 
good! Mum, can I start playing volleyball! I wanna be like dad!.”
You turn towards Shinsuke, he looked so amused at the scenario. You jokingly roll your eyes at him, “of course you can baby!” You said planting a kiss on your son's forehead. “How about for now you and daddy go get cleaned up?”
“Okay!” Your son responds with a toothy smile, before your son begins pulling your husband down the hallway.
You felt like the luckiest woman alive.
©slut4msby
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wren-dy-flowergarden · 8 months
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Can I request? You don’t have to if you don’t want:)
Where the reader is to someone he was brought from the real world, and yuu is like still there, so like yuu and the reader, both get teleported from different parts of the real world and they get teleported into twisted wonderland together. However the reader doesn’t get acknowledged as much as yuu, because yuu is more out there and the reader kinda keeps to herself but the reader has a crush on mallus and she’s make it known to him. However, he has disregarded her feelings and practically made it obvious that he prefers yuu over the reader which breaks the reader’s heart, and let’s say the only person who knows about the reader or pay attention to the reader is Rook, and Rook talks to the reader as a best friend in a way. Let’s say during mallus’s overbot she takes a hit that was meant for yuu and she gets really really hurt. As she’s in pain yuu take the chance to defeat mallus, the reader starts to feel a bit woozy and this gains the attention of yuu and mallus and everyone around, but the reader disappear like the evaporate, a bit like how in Demon slayer when you defeat the demons in a more of flowery way. The plot twist is that the reader is not dead but, they return back to the point in the real world as if time had not changed, and at this point mallus is upset and tries to move on like yuu has but realises after a while how much he actually likes the reader’s attention and has feeling for the reader not yuu. He then becomes very distraught after the realisation and find ways to bring back the reader. you can ask me for part two if you want any more ideas I guess.
You can ignore this if you already busy. ☺️😊(sorry for the mistakes🥹)
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*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴A/N: BRUH why is this so good. I felt like I was reading a story more than a request when I read your ideas. I’m lowkey just adding my own head cannons onto this with a little bit of pazzah, pls tag me if you ever write this as a full story, part 2 and everything! ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ" I will probably not write a pt2 just because I am terrible at writing parts 2. Not completely happy with this one-I don’t think this is that fluffy with all the info/thoughts in my head, but I tried to flesh it out in my own way!
*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Malleus x f!Reader (NOT YUU)
*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴WC: 1.2k!
*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Tags: bittersweet love, pinning, one sided love, miscommunication of feelings, fake!death, some dragon tendencies like possessiveness, got a good amount of mistakes in here so pls forgive me *cries*
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It really wasn’t fair. You peered over the railing, looking out into the night. The fairy lights and moon shine against Yuu- short, chopped hair accenting their feminine features, an innocent like beauty, outgoing and extroverted unlike yourself. She was the main character here as she stood next to Malleus, quiet, ebony hair that drapes down his shoulders. He tucks a slimmer of her hair behind her ears. 
Yuun affirmed that there was nothing between them. That she had no feelings- she didn’t even know his real name! And that was ridiculous, because how could she not see the regal air around him?
He doesn’t notice you; that because Yuu is perfect. She is the sun shining and you are the shadow that it casts. 
Your confession came out of the blue. Yuu was feeling under the weather after diving deep into the ocean to search for some painting. You never really understood the details. What you understood is that Yuu acted rather delirious and needed sleep. Green pulses outside the balcony window, your heart races. 
A light blush overtakes your cheeks as you see the firelights flicker outside the front door’s side window. You step outside, the cool porch tingling against your bare feet. He’s there, graceful and poised as ever compared to your bags and tangled hair. A squeak of the boards catch his, his eyes widen with the downturn of his lips, “Oh, Ramshackle other inhabitant,” he looks up towards the room Yuu is resting in, something stirs in your heart at his expression, “It seems as if your Prefect is fast in the realms of dreams.” You nod your head, clutching the blanket closer to you. Head tingling, this is the closest you’ve been to him. Your first conversation and yet monotone comes out, “She is sick and needs sleep. Come another night to talk to her.” He hums, a delicate finger holding his chin in thought. “Ahh…I pray that our nightly chats haven’t disturbed you.” He is about to turn around, to leave, you can see his foot already ready to pivot, “Tell her I will return when she recover- “ “I like you.” Malleus pauses and you can’t believe you were stupid enough to confess to him. You want to deny it, to explain how you fell in love with the way he walks, the charm of his voice through windowpane seals, the way you wish he looked at you like the way he looks at Yuu-  “I have read about this before, this type of confession,” he starts, and your stomach drops as he crosses his hands against his chest, “I cannot accept your feelings.” He looks up towards the balcony and it mortifies you.
So, you try to do your best, well the best you can with the insomnia caused by yourself and your big fat mouth. 
Rook eats breakfast with you each day- him curating a balanced meal towards a heart-broken soul. He could read you so well. 
“Why my petite ombre! All you need to do it become the beautiful sparrow everyone can’t help but want.” Rook says before heading off to class. He tussles the hair on your head, or fixing it? You couldn’t tell. 
So, again, you try. A little more active, a little more talkative, a little more confident. If the sun cast shadows, then you were the flower peaking over the edge.
What you didn’t expect was Malleus to Overblot. 
It’s scary. Yuu looks like the commander as she barks out orders with the rest of the NRC students fighting. Silver sending off another attack, pain etched on his face. Another attack blasts students away and you see Yuu fly among the rubble. You see another flash of light coming from the dragon’s breath-
You didn’t expect to take a hit for Yuu as well. But she is the sun, and you need the sun to live no matter how far in the shadows you are. She will save him. 
You can’t see straight after the battle is over, that half the world is dark…blurry…like it doesn’t exist, like it's disappearing. 
“(Y/N)! Oh god.” You hear Yuu from your right as she grips your hand. Everything feels so cold. You hear him shout towards Rook, oh he’s here also? “Why- why is she like this?” You want to talk, and you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Yuu is crying, she has tears in her eyes, and you wonder why. Rook speaks this time, you’ve never seen him this discomposed, “I- I’ve never seen this before.” “What do you mean!? She- she’s evaporating!” Yuu cries taking off her jacket trying to cover your arm. You don’t understand, as you twist out of Yuu’s jacket, she tries to stop you, “No, don’t move! Not until we figure this out.” But she’s too slow at explaining and with your blurry vision, you see your hand? Or half your hand as it dissipates into the air.  “(Y/N)…?” You don’t even have to see to know whose voice that is.  Malleus. 
He kneels next to you, alongside Yuu and Rook, his bare hands touching against the wisps of what your hand was. He looks frightened. Can you even read expressions right when you can only see half a face? 
You want to tell him not to worry, even though you are scared. That you're glad he is alive, that he was your first love, and you wish you could redo that night all over again. Something warm tingles against and suddenly stops. He must have done something wrong because you see pink and black hair- Lillia- tugging on his shoulder, shaking his head. 
Love is bittersweet. There are no last goodbyes as you fade away. 
You wake up on your bed. Your bed. The AC flowing, the faint hum of your earbuds against plush comforter, the city noise in the background. 
You’re back…?
A weight on your palm as you turn against your side. It was there- your phone turned on and open to the home screen of Twisted Wonderland. You click on the screen…Nothing. Again, again, again! And nothing happens. It still just reads the logo. 
Your mind is spiraling as you twist on your bed, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror by your nightstand, and everything stops at once. Your hair is shorter- by your chin. It was so long… you haven’t cut it since the day you woke up in Twisted Wonderland…
It wasn’t a dream…. was it? . . . . “This won’t bring her back.” The caldron bellows into an array of green and yellow swirling into one. Books litter the floor as chaos organized the room. He is one of the most powerful magicians in Twisted Wonderland.  Something was strange about that last night, the way you seemed so scared, different that how steady you presented yourself. The way your eyes stared at him seconds before you phased out of the existence of this realm. He adds a pinch of hazel dust and the green turns into a dark blue like your eyes. He shakes his head- unnecessary thoughts would be of no use to him.  Not until you returned.
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littlemisslipbalm · 9 months
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Demonology
Part 2: Unholy Affliction
Series Summary: A new demon has come to Nashville. Josh and Jake's ways of life have been thrown off by her arrival. The angel and demon have lived with an understanding of one another, but with Y/N stirring up trouble and asking questions, they're forced to work out a new normal. And why is she so powerful for a human turned demon anyway, that's unusual, right?
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A/N: hiiii heres part 2!!! Pls like comment and reblog bc it helps and makes me happy to hear what you think! Also I’ve added a taglist form so add yourself to that and I’ll make sure you get tagged from now on! Happy reading <3
Summary: Y/N finally runs into the demon named Jake. What a night!
Word Count: 4.8k | Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, 18+ descriptions of sex (no explicit smut yet), demon!jake ayo, i think that’s it
Taglist | Series Masterpost
Part Two: Unholy Affliction
She didn’t run into the odd angel and demon duo for two months. After the brief encounter outside of the speakeasy with both of them, nothing. She was enduring her second life back on Earth as best as could be expected as someone with little to no knowledge about the modern world with no one but her dog to talk to about things that really mattered. She insisted to Rori as they lounged around the apartment that she was having fun as he stared at her dubiously. 
She’d be more than damned to be upset that the other demon hadn’t come to find her. He probably thought he was too good for her or just didn’t care about her. Well, she definitely didn’t care. She didn’t need him to help her. Making trouble came easily to her. It was just everything else about being in this world that was hard. 
It was an accident when she finally bumped into him. At least, it was by accident for her. She had chosen to take the long way home from the bar she had made hers for the night. Swirling around to music she blared from the phone she’d picked up after a few weeks, Rori ran circles around her howling into the night. She sang along to the music and danced, staring at the waxing moon. Mostly alone, but she felt mostly alive. Wasn’t a total loss. 
She paid no attention to her surroundings. It was so late on a back road, it was unlikely anyone would be around and if they were around, she would make them sorry they bothered her. 
“Is this all you do then?” A voice from the shadows inquired. 
She recognized it immediately. She’d hung onto his voice as one of the few pieces of information she had about this ancient demon. Jake. Seemed silly to her that he didn’t have a more hellish name. It was practically still an altar boy’s name–she should use that on him if he said something really rude. 
She stops the music and her movements, coming to a complete standstill. “Jake.” 
He saunters out of the shadows, messing with his hair. He stares at her, waiting for an answer. 
“How do you mean?”
He rolls his eyes and gestures his hand to her body. “Party. Cause a little trouble. Get drunk. Wander home alone.” Sad.
She laughs, certain he was kidding, and choosing to ignore the stab in her chest she felt at the word ‘alone’. “I have my—Isn’t that the job?” 
“Just the trouble part. But altering bars to your liking doesn’t really fulfill that. There’s a lot of ways to get the job done even if your specialties are seduction and desire…” 
He narrowed his eyes at the end of his sentence. Jake thought she was silly. He didn’t take his job very seriously but he also couldn’t stand to see someone doing it differently than him. 
She didn’t feel shame but a certain strangeness about the fact that Josh had clearly talked about their night at the speakeasy to Jake. 
“You seem too young to be sent up to the big leagues. Nepo baby?”
“What baby? I don’t even know what that means.”
Jake sighs in exasperation. 
“Nepotism was around in the 70s before they dragged you down to Hell, yeah? A practice among those in power to give special preference to relatives. Erh,” Jake tried to think of a reference she might know. “Whatever. Forget it.” 
This was the third thing he added to the growing list of ways she seemed to be struggling in the modern world. This, the bars and how she wasn’t taking advantage of online ordering—he definitely hadn’t been spying on her these last two months, he just may have stopped by her place a few times. Just to see if she’d had her earthly access revoked or not. 
Jake tilts his head and his cheekbones catch in the light. He was a handsome demon. She liked his longer hair, reminding her of the boys back in the day. His brown eyes were sweet like his angel counterpart’s, but the yellow ones she had seen the other day had sent a shiver down her spine. 
“If I’m doing the job so wrong, why has it taken you this long to tell me? Maybe if you guided me or gave me information I could do the devil’s will a little better?” She tried to keep the unfamiliar nerves growing in her stomach away.
“It’s not in my interests to help you, per say.” He gestures a hand out towards the road she had been traveling, wanting them to keep walking. “But, unofficially, you're doing the afterlife life so wrong it's hurting my no good soul.” 
She falls into step with him, still watching him as he disregards her, pulling his sunglasses back over his eyes. “True demons have souls?” 
“My consciousness, whatever that I am, it doesn’t really matter what you call it. Just is the easiest term.” He grumbles. 
She smiles at his frustration with her. “So you’re gonna mentor me?” Her voice was relaxed, but she couldn’t hide the truth from herself. She wanted more than anything to have some guidance from Jake. He seemed to know what he was doing and while she denied it, she did feel unfulfilled so far. 
“I guess… It’ll get Josh off my back about your fiddling with the swing of the bars.” 
“You listen to your angel brother? And it’s really nothing, I don’t know why both of you keep bringing it up!” 
“Because people!” Jake stops, raising his voice shakily. He takes hold of her shoulders. “People have been talking about it. The first lesson of demonology is to make sure your work goes unnoticed. Evil is insidious. It doesn’t knock at the door or even bust it off its hinges, it seeps through the cracks, uninvited and unannounced until it's too late.” 
She’s alight at his touch. His hands are fire against her exposed skin that had cooled in the night air. He is literally steaming with passion and she can feel it falling off of him. She feeds off of it. Her eyes stare up into his unreadable face. His lips are parted in a perfect cupid’s bow–reminiscent of his angel origins. 
“And I don’t listen to Josh. It’s just impossible to get him to shut up.” 
She sighs, waving her hand at Rori who had returned from running ahead when he realized the two demons weren’t behind him anymore. 
“But why does Josh care?” 
“Because,” Jake shakes his head, letting go of her arms and starting to walk again. “If enough people get talking about it, then the Upstairs will eventually get a hold of it and ask Josh why he hasn’t put a stop to it.”
She’s still confused. “And?”
“For fuck’s sake…And Josh and I have a deal where we don’t step on each other’s toes. We do enough good and enough bad–at least, it had been enough–to keep the ones in charge satisfied. You’re fucking it up for both of us. Making us work.”
“It kind of sounds like what I’m doing is actually fine and you two are just mad because you don’t want to deal with it.” 
They reach a black door with a lamp to the right of it, illuminating the address number ‘666’. She stares between him and the number, tapping her nose. Jake shakes his head, twisting the door handle and grumbling something about how it was establishment-issued. The sound of the lock undoing itself is heard from inside the wall. 
He opens the door and responds indignantly. “Nuh-uh.” 
She laughs. “Uh-huh…No wonder Hell sent me up here. You’re slacking!” 
She follows him down the long dark entryway through an arch that opened into a 70s style conversation pit, completely carpeted in navy blue. The color of a deep night sky with only a few stars to keep it lit. 
“What do you expect? I’m a demon. Thousands of years old, I’ve paid my fucking dues.”
There’s a bottle of whiskey open on the coffee table in the center, half drank. In a blink of an eye, they both have full glasses in their hands. Jake doesn’t offer a salutation and drinks slowly from the glass and proceeds to remove his sunglasses. His eyes flicker between brown and yellow several times when they return to Y/N. He swore he’d seen her before.
“Plus, the humans are so much better at thinking up evil shit to do. Things I’d never even dream up.” He relaxes into his seating, looking altogether like he belonged here. Far more than he did in Heaven or Hell. 
She pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her chin on top while she takes a sip of the expensive looking liquor. She was trying to keep her eyes on Jake and her immediate surroundings rather than staring around the place with wandering eyes. It was expansive, filled with trinkets that looked older than most of the modern world, mixed in with incredible paintings and lavish decor. No house she’d been in had been this beautiful and some had been rockstar’s homes. Then again, she never had much time or lucidity to look around those places. 
Pointedly, she stared at Jake instead of the room. He had seen through her as a newbie with no real clue what she was supposed to do. She didn’t want to seem fazed by a little interior design. 
“So what do you do instead of Hell’s wishes?” 
“Play my guitar mostly,” Jake shrugs. “Then I write up a report on whatever shitty things humans have done in the last month and send it down to Hell as my deeds.” 
“You’re a musician too,” Her eyes lit up, her humanity slipping to the surface. “Tell me you play real music. Not the garbage that comes out of all the stereos around here.” 
Jake’s laugh is loud and obnoxious but she likes it. 
“It’s not all bad but I know what you mean. Nothing like the 70s around these days. Bet you would’ve liked the 90s though…There was some fantastic rock.” 
She moves closer to him, eager for Jake to talk about something she liked and cared about. He could be someone who could guide her and converse with. He shifts a little bit away from her and she tilts her head in confusion.
Jake nods at her as he swallows more of his whiskey. 
“I heard you succeeded in tempting Josh.”
“Not really,” She shrugs, immediately knowing why Jake was keeping his distance.
“Josh letting a demon kiss him to show him mystical porn…” Jake chuckles darkly. “That’s plenty of success.” 
“He’s challenging.” She tried to keep hurt out of her voice, but considering she hadn’t seen Josh either she wondered if she’d really scared him off. “Everyone else is too easy around here—and gross.”
Jake smirks. “It’s very impressive for such a minor demon to have gotten that far with an angel like Josh.” 
“It seems like you’ve had a corrupting influence on him,” she pushed back. 
“Well, yeah. But I’ve never macked on him in a speakeasy dressed like that.” Jake’s eyes wander over her figure. She wasn’t wearing the same thing as she had with Josh, but it communicated the same thing. All black, low cut and high cut all at once, and the carnelian necklace, glowing like a beacon. 
“I could make that happen for you two, if you wanted.” 
“I do not want that. At all.”
“Just checking. You sound kind of jealous.”
Jake shakes his head at her. “You’re rotten.” 
He couldn’t quite puzzle her out. She wasn’t like other demons he’d come into contact with over the years. They were solitary creatures and wretched. She wanted companionship, which was particularly human. And while she was good at the evil stuff, her desire for interaction and connection seemed to outweigh what should be her main prerogative: devilish destruction. 
She wanted to hear about his music rather than talk about how she’d almost successfully tempted an angel, for Satan's sake. Half the demons he knew barely registered music as an instrument of demonic work, much less took pleasure in it. 
“What were you doing in the 60s and 70s,” She asks. 
Jake smiled, memories flashing before his eyes immediately. His eyes go yellow at the question and she realizes it’s kind of like him closing his eyes. Like an internal eyelid or something. Something inhuman. 
Disraeli Gears began to spin on a record player somewhere in the room and her smile matched Jake’s.
“Cream was my favorite band back then. Clapton, he was the man.”
“I’m more of a George Harrison gal when it comes to British guitarists,” she says dreamily. “I saw Cream at the Troubadour when they were just starting out. But the Doors were more my style. Zeppelin, Stones and Hendrix too. God, those guys were something.”
“You were in the music scene?” Josh had said she was from Los Angeles. He hadn’t been specific about what she did.
She finished her drink and held out the glass for more. Jake just stared at it and suddenly the glass was full again. She grinned, taking a sip with a nod of appreciation. 
“Yeah. It’s what got me on the devil’s list. Sleeping with singers and doing way too many drugs. Started sneaking backstage when I was 15 and getting into trouble started about the second I walked through the door.”
Jake nodded with reverence. Her expertise made sense. Why she was so powerful, still unanswered. He finished his second glass and switched to the bottle, deciding to settle in for the night that was quickly becoming morning. 
The demons went back and forth, retelling ridiculous stories from the time where their lives first overlapped. Jake’s bad fashion choices. Her terrible taste in men. Jake’s inventions of evil. Their shared expensive taste for party drugs and liquor. 
The first whiskey and a second bottle were gone after a few hours and they were sprawled on the navy floor. She ran her hands along the soft carpet. 
“Thanks for finally coming to see me. Thought you hated me,” she murmurs.
“I hate two things in this world: Justin Bieber and global warming. I jus’ was worried you’d get me in trouble when you first got here. Needed to know if you were a snitch or not.”
She nods. Jake nods back, shutting his eyes fully. 
“Wait. Who’s Justin Bieber?” 
Jake cackles. “I keep forgetting you know practically nothing about what’s happened in the last 50 years. You’re like a child.”
Her eyes flash black at Jake’s teasing. Her defenses went up at any sign of embarrassment, but her head was swimming in brown liquor. She barely managed to sit up and stare meanly at him. With his eyes still closed, he didn’t even take notice. Though he heard her huff unhappily and it made him grin. 
“That why you need a friend? To show you the ropes of modern life?” He pushes himself up to lean on his hands. It was like he had seen inside her mind. “You kind of got sent back at a shit time. Sorry.” 
If she could still feel true shame, she might have blushed, but her body didn’t work like that anymore. Instead her eyes stayed black and her hair reddened. 
“Am I hitting a nerve?” Jake chuckles again, his cruel nature peeking out at her obvious discomfort, and his eyes flick yellow. “You’re lonely?” 
She huffs, feeling the liquor fueling a growing anger. Where was her blood-sucking dog when she needed him? Actually, she wasn’t sure if demon’s like Jake would bleed so maybe it was good Rori stuck to the shadows—i.e. gone to bed. 
“No.”
“You can’t lie to me, Sal.”
The name she gave to Josh sticks in Jake’s voice. It’s an accusation. He knew. How. 
“I’ve been lying longer than you’ve existed. I can see a liar coming from off in the harbor.” Jake continues, his jeering laugh makes her skin crawl. It’s like he’d slipped into a different part of himself. Different, but still clearly Jake. “You never asked about my speciality.” 
She had a feeling he’d tell her. Wherever he had gone to with his eyes stuck in their horrifying yellow form, he was in charge for the time being. 
“Tricksters, thieves and gluttons. Used to have lechery, but it got boring.” 
“I didn’t get to choose,” she mumbles. She had drawn her knees up to her chest again, feeling some semblance of anxiety.
Jake’s eyes flicked back to brown and his smirk turned to a frown. “You didn’t get to choose?”
“Do human-demons normally get to choose?”
“Humans don’t normally become demons,” Jake corrects. “But no matter, you’re supposed to choose.”
“I don’t know what else I would’ve chosen besides what I got, I guess. It’s just not something I’m actually passionate about.” She laughs at the irony. “I don’t want to sleep with just anybody anymore. I already did that. I just want to have a good time on my terms this time.”
He smirked with a little surprised laugh. “You’re sweet on my angel brother aren’t you? His pristine feathers got under your skin.” 
She was about to deny it when she remembered what had just happened when she’d lied to him. 
“I like a challenge. That doesn’t mean I’m only interested in him…But I need a bit of a game.”
Jake knew what she was saying. She knew it. Their almost drunken fight was forgotten. The subject matter moving along to something they had clearly been avoiding all night. Their desire. She liked the power Jake exuded, even if it scared her a little too. She wanted to see if she could get him, too.
Jake rolls his eyes and motions for her to come closer. “I bet you can’t get into my mind. Nothing you could show me could sway me into sleeping with you. How’s that for a challenge?” 
She smiled. “But don’t you want to sleep with me?” 
“Says who?” He spread his legs, his knees bowed out wide. He motioned for her to take a seat on top of him. “I could make myself look like Josh if you’d like. All I’ve got to change is the hair, our faces are the same. I know he’s been avoiding you.” 
He switches from ambivalent to cruel between sentences and she can’t find her footing. She swings her left leg over his body, settling into his lap. Her hands instinctively went to his chest as he stared up at her. He was a challenge in a different way to his angel brother. 
“Okay, lay the thoughts on me,” Jake puts a hand on her shoulder when she leans in, a knowing smirk on his lips. “And I know you don’t actually need to kiss me to transfer them. There just has to be some form of skin to skin contact.” 
She huffs in annoyance. “Spoil sport.” 
Jake laughs. “Go on, giddy up, girl.” 
She narrows her eyes at him, allowing them to slip to black as she raises her fingers to Jake’s temples. Her hands slink into his hair and take a rough grasp of his roots. He grunts in mild discomfort, but maintains his challenging stare, lowering his hands to her hips to keep her still. 
Her eyelids flicker like her eyes are rolling back in her head, but the spheres of inky black don’t change. Jake watches with tempered interest, seeing her process. 
Then his vision shifts, leaving his comfortable living room, it's cloudy, murky like a foggy night out on the ocean. It’s still familiar to him. Her figure appears through the mist, shifting with the fog. She steps closer to Jake and he now hears the lapping of the ocean and tastes the salt of the oceanair on his lips. She’d found a memory of one of his ships and made it the setting for this temptation. 
‘Your fantasies are all nautical themed,’ She speaks in his mind, her tone is curious. ‘Why’s that?’
‘Aren’t you supposed to be seducing me?’
‘Yeah, but I still have questions.’
Jake laughs inside his head and he hates the way he doesn’t hate her presence there and then he wonders if she can feel that feeling. This was new for him. 
The scene rocks melodically back and forth upon waves and a beautiful blue light descends on the room he begins to see. She’s a figure at the corner of it, leaning against a door, the entire room is cozy and she is surprised by the care that seems to exude from this recess of Jake’s mind. 
There’s a cool breeze, but overall the room is warm and Jake is sat leaning back upon the bed while he watches her approach. 
‘I don’t see anything.’ She murmurs. Jake feels a ripple in the vision, a strange dichotomy of the faux images she’s showing him and the plane of reality their physical bodies are existing on. She’s pressing harder into his real skin, in his living room, talking aloud. 
Jake says nothing. 
‘I know you have carnal desires, I can sense them,’ she continues. ‘Why are they so vague?’ 
In the vision, she has sat beside Jake now, staring at him. She looks a little different in the vision than how he has seen her physical body. Her hair is duller, her body weaker, she looks far more human to Jake. Still beautiful and sensual, but he wonders if maybe she cannot change the image of her soul in the ether as easily as she can on Earth. 
She is wearing a deep blue slip, the first time he’s seen her in a color other than black. He moves in the vision and her eyes widen, confused that he has autonomy in something she is meant to control. He brushes at her hair, allowing his hand to gently trail her face and neck.
‘I usually like to pleasure my partner. I like to give them what they want.’
She stares at him intently, feeling a shiver in her spine once more. Out of control.
‘Your big wide eyes, you’re like a helpless bug, even here. All confused why you’re not in control, showing me my deepest, darkest desires.’ 
She focuses harder on her task, searching through the wisps of memory in Jake’s mind. Like Josh, he had only allowed her into a small portion of his mind, but a small portion of an ancient creature was still cavernous. She flipped through the images in search of concrete memories rather than memories of desire. Memories of times when he had felt fulfilled, she saw him curled around beautiful women, sometimes strong and sometimes meek and she was surprised. He didn’t seem like the one to be soft in the bedroom, but she remembered his remark of giving what his partners wanted. 
‘You’re barely a demon. Still practically an angel.’ She mutters, feeling discomfort when watching the scenes of him with other people for some reason. 
‘I am not.’ His voice is warning. She doesn’t press. 
She kept digging, still unsure what to do to show him something that would tempt him. Images of him in bed alone surface after a while and she pushes harder, looking for the thoughts that had been in his head at that time. She looked for what he imagined when his hand was slipping around himself in the dark. The thoughts that made his breath quicken and his stomach shudder. Finally. 
She shifted the image, her figure below Jake and she feels a strange sort of deja vu. The Jake in the scene was over her and she was moaning the usual obscenities as his hair rocked around her. Jake’s actual consciousness was unimpressed. 
‘So sometimes I like it a little vanilla, so what? You’re still not convincing me to crave you, demoness.’
‘Your mind is strange. Hard to navigate, I guess.’
Vision Jake leans down to kiss her with a hum. ‘I like that.’ 
She shifts the scene, unhappy with him messing with her again. She shows them together in a few different positions and she feels herself pulling from the things she had shown Josh, hoping Jake couldn’t tell. She also shows Jake a scene of him between her thighs and she hears him groan, making her feel a little accomplished. 
The final scene, she had been holding onto in hopes that she would’ve flustered him enough before having to show it to him. It was risky, even for her. He was a strong demon and this could make him more upset than aroused. But if he hadn’t wanted her to access the idea, he should’ve been more careful. 
They’re in a beautiful room, draped in red and flooded with moonlight. She straddles Jake’s hips and she rocks back and forth on him. He hums as she runs her hands over every curve of his face, down his neck and across his shoulders. Then she speaks to him, her lips pressed against the curve of his ear, soft and insistent. 
‘You do not have to be good to be loved.’ She felt Jake push at her presence, but she continued, kissing at his sweaty skin. ‘You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.’ 
She kisses him deeply on the lips and vision Jake relents, giving in to her touch. Letting it consume him, he gets lost in the imagined moment, pulling her figure closer, wanting them to meld into one. In the vision, it’s almost as if they do, their souls twisting and touching in a way so foreign to the material world she was alight in a way she never had been before.
In his living room, she releases his head and her eyes flicker back to their regular color. Jake’s hands are strong, keeping her close as he blinks back to the physical plane. 
“How did you know to say that?” Jake breathes, feeling slightly off, but knowing he wanted Y/N here. “How did you see that?”
She feels the intensity of Jake’s question. “It was in a memory. You read the poem and then went to bed.” 
Jake nodded, still staring at her face but not quite her eyes, wanting her to continue. 
“I felt how happy you were that night when you came. The only thing different from other nights was that poem. Thought I’d give it a shot.” 
“Don’t ever speak of that to anyone. Do you understand me?” His fingers were burning at her sides. 
“I would never.” Her voice is sincere. She worries her lip, unsure if she should say what’s really on her mind. “I meant it.”
Jake looks up at her eyes for the first time since they had come out of the vision. “What?” 
She traces under his eyes gingerly with her thumbs, scared of him pushing her away. “I understand why you like the poem so much. I like it too. So, I meant it...You can tell me about your despair, and I will tell you mine.”
She pauses, watching Jake’s blank expression. 
“If you want. Challenge, everything, aside. I am a demon but I am also still a girl inside somewhere. Both exist within me and I don’t even like the demon stuff all that much. I’ve had 50 years to realize just how much I wish I’d done it all differently. Maybe I wouldn’t be seducing strangers as some sort of living dead eternal 27 year old. Maybe I could’ve been alive somewhere else right now, withering with a long line of family to love me as I died slowly.” 
“Oh fucking hell,” Jake sighs, releasing a hand to twirl a finger through her hair. .
“What?” 
“You’re fucking brilliant,” He shakes his hair out and then presses his lips against her just like he had in the vision. “You win,” He mumbles against her lips. 
She kisses him back, her arms snaking around his neck. “It wasn’t a gimmick. I’m serious.” 
“I know, and you win. Sincerity,” Jake moves his lips to kiss along her jaw. “Is extremely sexy, in a world where almost nothing is true. Fuck. You’re so soft.” 
She grinned up at the ceiling, befuddled but excited. 
“Do those people even know the gift they were getting when you went home with them?” His voice shakes with passion and desire. She’s certain this is not from her usual influence. Her powers hadn’t worked on Jake at all.
Jake was practically worshiping her because she was herself. Because she had found a real piece of him and shown it to him and connected with it. It felt better than any meaningless hookup she’d had before. Jake, the demon who had criticized her, was the gentlest lover she’d ever had. The sweetest soul she’d ever connected with. It felt so good to be seen.
-
To be continued….
let me know what you think
Taglist: @joshysgirl @ofthecaravel
67 notes · View notes
thehollowwriter · 1 year
Text
Summary: Octavinelle helps afab reader get their period stuff
(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤)
I Can Do It!
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▪Azul is
▪Confused
▪No idea what he's looking at
▪Confidently tells you he knows exactly what you need when he leaves and now that he's there he is at a loss
▪So many options... why do some of them have wings?!?!? Do they fly or something?!
▪Has the urge to buy all of them, but since he's stingy he shoves his pride and phones you
▪Your description confuses him even more, and it takes at least fifteen minutes for him to understand what you're talking about
▪Once he finally gets what you need, he comes home all proud of himself, but also a little embarrassed that he had to ask you for help in the end anyways
▪He's at your beck and call if there's anything else you need
'"I-I admit I was little... overly confident but..just ask, and you shall receive, my love."
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▪Jade is prepared
▪He triple checked what you wanted and even wrote it down to be sure
▪He may phone you to check one more time, but it's unlikely
▪It's an in and out trip- He grabs what you need (and perhaps that little mushroom plushie he saw too) and leaves
▪He also grabs you a treat from that one store you like, to brighten your mood
▪Jade is not entirely sure how periods work, so he will be doing extensive research to make you as comfortable as possible
▪He, too, is quite proud of himself when he arrives home, but is mostly happy that you have what you need
▪He'll bend over backwards for you- whatever you need, just ask
"Ah, it was no hassle, I was able to find it quite easily. Hmm? You want another favour from me~? Do not fret, my little mushroom, I don't mind at all~"
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▪Floyd is also very confused
▪He didn't exactly ask what you needed, he just shot right to the store as you asked
▪Now he standing in the aisle staring at all the options with the most confused expression you'll ever see on his face
▪He ends up buying one pack of everything, but also a few extra packs of the more expensive ones (they seem nicer, don't they?)
▪He's nowhere near as stingy as Azul, he'll gladly buy a whole shop if you want
▪He comes home with so much that he needs at least three packets, smiling at you brightly in the doorway
▪If you don't want all of them, just choose one or two and he'll maybe take the rest back tomorrow
▪Usually when you need something, he tends to be willing to do it, with rare exceptions
"Ne ne, Seashell, I had no idea what you wanted so I just got it all! Eh? What's with that face? Eeh, wel I'm not gonna go all the way back now..."
.....................................A/N: So uh... Yeah I'm swamped with work so I thought I'd put at least something out that I've had for a bit. I wrote this when I was sick so forgive me if it's bad
Tagging: @honey-milk-depresso
356 notes · View notes
boomboxboi · 6 months
Note
feeling sad and lonely, pls spare some found family crumbs (about the part 5 gang ofc)
Crumbs? I’ll just give you the whole loaf! 
I hope you feel better soon though
Bruno Bucciaratti
When Leone is sad, he will just silently sit in a room while they listen to smooth jazz music.
They might drink a glass of wine together but never more than one glass.
They always end their moment of silence together with quoting noir detective films.
When Fugo is upset, Bruno will ask him about his current read.
He then just listens as Fugo talks about whatever book he’s reading like it’s a lecture from an expert.
Bruno makes sure to always engage in asking questions to show his genuine interest in Fugo’s interests.
Bruno doesn’t have to do much for Narancia when he’s in a bad mood.
He just takes him out for gelato and listens to whatever is troubling Narancia.
Then he gives advice if need be.
Mista can be a wild card at times.
If he’s upset over his phobia, Bruno always reassures him that things will be fine.
If it’s anything else, he gives Guido a bit of money to go on a small shopping spree.
Giorno is hard to tell when he’s upset, he always seems so neutral.
When he is upset, and Bruno catches onto this, he makes sure to take Giorno out to a museum.
They go to enjoy the scenery and learn interesting facts together.
Trish is easy to comfort.
They go out for gelato, much like Narancia, and then they just talk about whatever is on their mind.
Bruno also offers her advice if she requests it but it usually just ends up with him listening to her.
Leone Abbacchio
To cheer Bruno up, Leone will try to surprise him by drawing a bubble bath.
He’ll make sure to have the lighting dim and candles lit with smooth jazz playing.
He then lets Bruno have his space and makes sure that, under NO circumstances, anyone bothers Bruno.
Fugo can be difficult to cheer up and Leone isn’t always sure what to do.
He will try and get Fugo to burn off his excess anger by sending him on errands (and tagging along behind him).
This somehow works but Leone isn’t sure why.
Narancia is easy.
They already have a routine of gardening together and Narancia venting or staying silent.
These moments are very grounding for the both of them.
When Mista seems antsy, Leone will try and get snacks for the Pistols.
The thought seems to always relax Mista enough and he seems less on edge once the Pistols have eaten something.
Otherwise, he ignores him, because he knows Mista can work his issues out without his help.
Despite how much Giorno pisses Leone off, he does care for his well-being.
If Giorno is genuinely upset by something, he can usually tell right away (unlike the others).
He helps by giving Giorno space and not antagonizing him further.
Trish is still a mystery to Abbacchio.
She seems extremely capable so other than going makeup shopping with her, he doesn’t think there’s much else he can do to cheer her mood up.
He has surprised her with anonymous flowers (from the garden he and Narancia work on) and that always seems to brighten her mood.
Pannacotta Fugo
To cheer Bruno up when he’s visibly upset, Fugo will clean and organize the house.
A tidy place makes a happy face.
He lets Abbacchio handle the bathroom, however.
Leone is difficult for Fugo to read.
He seems in a perpetual bad mood so he’s never sure what to do other than to give Leone his space. Narancia and Bruno seem to know how to cheer him up so he leaves it to them.
But he does take over Leone’s chores if he seems to be having a rough day.
Narancia is easy for Fugo to handle.
Usually, he comes directly to Fugo and tells him exactly what he needs to feel better.
It’s usually along the lines of going out for a walk so he can let Aerosmith fly while they talk about everything and nothing.
Fugo doesn’t attempt to cheer Mista up because he thinks that Mista’s worries stem from irrational thoughts.
He will usually just help Narancia out with the plans for cheering Mista up.
This involves playing games together and then Narancia and Mista ganging up on him.
Fugo has no problems with cheering Giorno up.
He will just share his favorite books with him and they have an in-depth discussion.
No one can keep up with these conversations except the two of them.
Whenever Trish seems down, Fugo surprises her with a poem.
It’s always a poem about things that cheer her up.
Music, flowers, and general flattery but never flirty.
Narancia Ghirga
Whenever Bruno seems upset, Narancia will tell him silly stories until Leone has his bath set.
He always wants to try and make Bruno laugh even though he knows that Bruno will give a fake laugh just so Narancia doesn’t feel bad.
He will help Fugo clean up around the house when Bruno is in the bath, though mostly just lets Fugo do the work while he points out dirty spots that need cleaning.
Leone and Narancia have an unspeakable bond so Narancia knows how to cheer him up right away.
He makes his coffee just how he likes it and will silently garden with Abbacchio.
They don’t talk much but the silence is always appreciated.
Fugo is also someone Narancia shares an unspeakable bond with.
While he can’t have intellectual conversations with Fugo, he knows how to make him unwind and invites him to go do something.
Anything works as long as they go out together, be it dancing, cloud gazing, or for simple walks.
Narancia also knows how to cheer Mista up.
Silly shenanigans that often come at the expense of others.
Nothing that outright harms anyone and only causes mild annoyances- and Fugo seems to be the target of these shenanigans.
Giorno often will be teased by Narancia.
It’s never anything big but he’ll point out how Giorno is younger than him and how he’s going to be like a big brother to him.
Which always earns a smile from Giorno.
Narancia usually will spend time with Trish when she’s upset by teaching her dance moves.
They also go out for walks and talk about their upbringings.
They both find a lot of solace with one another.
Guido Mista
Bruno will be given various foods that Mista made him.
He hopes that maybe good food will cheer Bruno up.
It does contribute to improving Bruno’s mood.
Leone will also be treated with a nice meal.
Though, Mista always makes him something more filling like a stew.
He never hears Leone complain about it so he assumes it helps.
With Fugo, Mista will give him his space.
Narancia usually knows how to cheer him up so he doesn’t feel the need to intervene.
He does try and give him words of encouragement and song suggestions.
Cheering Narancia up is easy work.
Good snacks, good cuddles, and silly games.
If Narancia seems to be in an exceptionally foul mood, Mista makes sure to listen to Narancia’s worries and reassures him that he’s there to help.
Giorno is easy to cheer up for Mista.
He simply asks Narancia to have some flowers and then gifts them to Giorno.
The plants always seem to brighten Giorno’s mood up and then they talk about whatever is on their minds.
Mista isn’t sure how to cheer Trish up.
She seems like a mystery to him but he does try by making jokes.
Sometimes the jokes work and sometimes they fall flat.
Giorno Giovanna
Giorno cheers Bruno up by reassuring him.
He helps ease his worries by coming up with solutions that are easy to follow.
He then helps Bruno follow through with the plans that they establish.
Leone often feels like a lost cause for Giorno.
He seems to just actively hate him but Giorno does his best by staying out of his way if he’s in a particularly bad mood.
He has figured out how Leone likes his morning coffee and sometimes makes it for him.
Fugo and Giorno spend time reading books, discussing what they’ve read, or going out to historic locations.
They both seem to enjoy the in depth conversations that they have and it usually melts away their worries.
They are also both fond of fact swapping because knowledge is power.
Narancia seems to have either great days or bad ones and he’s never sure what to expect.
The bad ones are often dealt with by the others so he never has to do much.
But he does occasionally turn objects into little critters for Narancia or grows flowers for him.
Mista always seems happier when be consciously makes an effort to avoid the number four.
He doesn’t understand why this number bothers Mista but decided that questioning it isn’t worth the effort.
His effort is better spent just respecting Mista’s boundaries.
Giorno isn’t sure what to do for Trish because she seems capable.
But he will remind her that she can follow her dreams and has everyone’s support.
He will also offer her hugs and she does take him up on that and it does cheer her up.
Trish Una
Still new to the group, Trish isn’t sure how to cheer everyone up but with Bruno she learned that he enjoys having time to decompress.
She got him some spa supplies (which Leone uses when he draws Bruno his bath).
And she also got him some scented oils for his room.
Leone seems to be always angry or downtrodden but Trish figured out that he likes a glass of wine and silence.
She got him a nice bottle of Sauvignon and new noise canceling headphones.
He uses the headphones often and will enjoy a glass from time to time.
Fugo is usually gifted notebooks and nice pens from Trish.
He regularly uses them and appreciates that Trish is thoughtful with the pens she gets him.
She advised him to write his frustrations down on the pages and then burn or rip them up.
With Narancia, she figured him out quickly.
They spend quality time together and discuss whatever problems they both have.
She also encourages Narancia to treat himself with respect because he is deserving of it and those words always help boost his mood up.
Mista usually gets on her nerves, but Trish can’t deny that he’s like a big brother to her.
When he’s upset, Trish will go out of her way to cook for him, as it seems he’s always cooking for everyone else.
Even though the food isn’t as good as Mista’s, he appreciates the effort quite a bit and always reassures her that the food is delicious.
Giorno is almost as new as she is to the group.
Because of this, she often checks up on him to make sure he’s doing okay.
Even though Giorno always says he’s fine, Trish goes out of her way to make sure no one gives him a hard time.
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ferrocyan · 11 days
Text
15 lines of dialogue
Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!
15 feels like too few haha! i'm picking these mostly from finished fics, with a couple of wips at the end. feels like i could go on forever otherwise
tagged by @improvised-finish (tysm!!) and tagging @pillowfriendly and @worldoshaking i wanna read more of your wols pls pls pls (*>∀<*)
(duo)
"I've never heard of such a name before! From which fair land do you hail, friend?"
"Coer--" C'astarhte said something and promptly bit her tongue. She covered her mouth, then quickly added, "Pardon. Meant to say... I come from the Exarch's homeland."
---
C'astarhte looked distressed. She glanced around at the rest of the bar, then at Reeq, and whispered intently, "But this worked before... Crystarium people don't ask about the Exarch."
(detour)
"So we've never really fought together, no? When you say we're partners, I'd like it to be earned."
---
"Doesn't need to," Tart shrugged. "What matters is we do it together. No more objections, right? Surely not." She stuck out her tongue at Lue-Reeq, then headed to the stairs.
---
"You know," Tart said, "you're not bad. I don't know much about archery, but your technique is very clean. Efficient, no wasted movement, very well timed. I was amazed how fast you could nock arrows and have shots lined up perfectly. It was nice to fight with you. Good job, Reeq."
(drown)
She just had to kill Andreia. All would be well if she killed Andreia. Remember what she had done to Alisaie, to Alphinaud? Blackguard. Scum. Bitch. Just kill her and get it over with!
(ask of me)
"No," Tart cuts him off. "Don't want to stop, just... want you to stop pretending I'm not here."
"Am I?"
"You're not touching me, not saying anything, not even looking at me! What's with that, Reeq?" she pouts.
---
"Reeq, you like it when complimented and told you're doing a good job. I feel the same. So, not asking for more, you're giving back to me." She smiles, putting her hand on his. "I like you. Always want more of you. If you're having a good time then so am I. Wouldn't know that if you don't tell me, though, so let me hear it, yeah?"
(focus)
"you're scaring me a little, right now."
she smiles. "is that bad?"
"not at all. i quite like it."
"good."
(wurm)
"Say, remember when you asked, would I still love you if you were a worm?"
Reeq snorts. "Why yes, I do! I remember perfectly well," he pinches her cheek lightly, "when you told me that you would feed me to your chocobo."
(peel)
The man is ecstatic, so very amused that he cannot hold his giggles back. His feet kick as he laughs and his tail thumps on the floor, shaking with glee. Unable to wait for Reeq to finish his sentence, he fills in with an exclamation:
"Tart!"
Tart only makes himself laugh harder.
(division)
"ishgard has ways of denying certain people's existnce. mean really, completely erase them, unlike the shite that bishop was spewing about himself. my family no longer exists. how dare he accuse me of not understanding how it feels to be rejected? and how dare you take my prey?"
---
tart holds his focus in his right hand, blade in the left. his tail flicks uneasily. "go easy on me, won't you?"
"what? oh my, i never thought i would hear that from the warrior of light!" aymeric laughs as he readies his own sword.
"i'm ill, you blackguard."
"then maybe you should rest properly."
"hasn't helped. this might, so stay still and let me cast magic at you."
(out to the cold)
"--get it, i get it. zenos wanting me makes me a liability. now that you all have the dragon scales' protection, i am not needed anymore. you--they're setting you up as my replacement. no. no, they can't. won't allow it. can't let that happen. oh--you--you're here to kill me. you can't replace me! i'll kill you first! you're dead, estinien wyrmblood!"
(aphelion)
"not that i want to die, g'raha. just... wish i'd died back there. it wouldn't've been good, but it would've been perfect. my life could've ended perfectly. haven't you felt that way too?"
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aceghosts · 1 year
Note
for the one-word writing prompts!
“unforeseen” for hunter x albert pls? (lmk if i didn’t do this right 😭)
Thanks for sending this one in! It's been sitting in my drafts for a while, but I didn't feel confident until posting about it until now. Also, gonna tag @sstewyhosseini. (I hope it's okay that I'm tagging you; I just know that you like them.)
[Prompt List]
Summary: On a mission in a tiny mountain town, Wesker encounters an unforseen complication, BSAA Captain Hunter Delaney.
More of the BSAA Agent! Hunter AU.
Words: 1053 words.
Content Warnings: Canon Typical Violence. Mentions of Death and infection.
AO3
The cold winter winds howl through the tiny, remote town, yet Wesker is unbothered by the frigid air. Ever since his rebirth, he no longer feels the sting of the cold or heat, a benefit on missions like these. The winds blow again, catching the tail of his black wool coat, fluttering in the wind. He moves forward in the snow with purpose, the frozen, white ground crunching beneath his feet. Wesker does not worry about being seen; most of the town’s inhabitants are dead or infected. They prove no threat, clearly the products of rudimentary science. He already thinks of the way the virus could be improved, perfected.
“Captain,” Wesker raises a blonde eyebrow at the sound of the unknown woman’s voice, “Do you think we’ll find anyone alive?”
“Unlikely, Natasha,” the ‘Captain’ replies as Wesker ducks into an empty house. He stays close to the window, allowing him to listen and catch a glimpse of the possible annoyances. “I think we’ve stumbled upon a fucking ghost town.”
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“Don’t know that I would describe these as ghosts…” A man replies, cheekily.
“Really, Patrick?” Another man chimes in, his voice deadly serious.
“Oh, come on Arthur,” Patrick whines, “We need a little humor in this situation. What do you think, Kevin?”
“Uhhh…,” Another team member says, presumably ‘Kevin’, glancing between two members as the group moves into his field of view, “Shouldn’t we focus on the mission?” Glancing out the window, Wesker makes out a group of five: three men, one woman, and another person. While observing the group, Wesker spies a familiar emblem, gritting his teeth. The BSAA…. an eternal thorn in his side. Or rather, Christopher and Jill were a thorn in his side, the rest of the BSAA too weak and ineffective to deal with someone like Wesker. The only reason Christopher and Jill even presented a threat was due to his training, during their S.T.A.R.S. days. If anything, the BSAA only gave Christopher and Jill more chances to annoy him.
“Wait,” one of the members seems concerned, the Captain by the sounds of it, as they sniff the air, “I smell someone.”
“That isn’t freaky at all,” ‘Patrick’ mumbles under his breath.
“Do they smell infected?” ‘Arthur’ asks, as the other members raise their guns, preparing for an attack.
“I….,” The Captain sounds unsure, sniffing the air again, “I don’t know. I smell cologne, and the scent of something else. Can’t put my finger on it.” They sniff again, smirking as they add, “Also, I smell shitty body spray. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Patrick, are you trying to fucking kill us with that shit?”
“Hey!” Patrick exclaims, slightly hurt as Kevin laughs beside him.
“I think he’s trying chemical warfare on the zombies, and we’re just caught in the cross fire,” Natasha teases in while Arthur shakes his head.
“Can you smell anything else?” Arthur asks, trying to get the group back on track.
The Captain sniffs again. “Nothing else besides what we’ve already encountered.” Fascinating. He glances out the window, locking on the Captain’s figure, broad-shouldered and tall. Jet black hair falls to their shoulders in shaggy waves, and their skin is deathly pale, covered in freckles. Wesker notes the long scar across the bridge of their nose and another large, jagged scar on their lip. He briefly wonders how the Captain came to be so scarred. Bioweapons, perhaps? Most didn’t escape without physical or emotional scars. “Listen, come on out. We’re not here to hurt you; we’re here to help you.” As a show of good faith, the Captain holsters their rifle, holding up their hands to show them as empty. How could Wesker resist when the Captain was asking so sweetly?
He opens the red door, all guns training on him as it creaks open. Stepping forward, He meets the Captain’s eyes, delighted by the muted green color and the hint of something darker that dwells within. Stopping several feet away, Wesker smirks. “The BSAA…What brings an organization like you out here to this little village?”
The Captain and Arthur share concerned glances. “There’s been an outbreak in this village. Would you know anything about that…?” The Captain is fishing for his name, but they’re going to have to do better than that.
“An infection,” He plays innocent, his voice thoughtful, “I would not know anything about that, Captain….”
“Hunter Delaney.” How fascinating. Ironic that the captain of a BSAA squad should share a name with one of Umbrella’s infamous creations. He lets out a low chuckle as they raise a black eyebrow, confusion clear on their face. “Is something funny?”
“No, Hunter,” He enjoys the way their name sounds, enjoying, even more, the slight shiver that runs over Hunter, “Nothing funny at all.”
Hunter’s eyes narrow, staring into his black sunglasses as if they’ll find the answers hidden there. A moment later, their eyes widen in horror as recognition dawns on them. Hunter steps closer to him, placing themself between Wesker and their team. “Arthur, take the team and go. I’ll catch up with you later.” Do Christopher and Jill tell tall tales about their dear old captain? Is Wesker the boogeyman that looms large over the BSAA?
Arthur nods, motioning for the team to follow his lead. Sighing, Wesker cannot allow any of them to leave. What a shame. He was having such a nice time talking with Hunter, and now, it’s all over. He dashes forward towards Hunter, a black blur against the stark white snow. As he reaches them, his hand stretches toward the collar of their olive-green jacket, preparing to toss Hunter about. Maybe, he’ll make them watch their teammates die, before having a little fun with them.
Hunter sidesteps him, far quicker than any human could, before throwing a punch with their left fist. They connect with his stomach, knocking Wesker backward and just barely knocking the wind out of him. Landing on the snow, his sunglasses fall away, and several strands of blonde hair come loose. Quickly getting up to his feet, Wesker finds Hunter smirking at him, ready for the next attack. “That all you fucking got, asshole?”
Excitement floods Wesker, now extremely curious about Hunter Delaney. What an unforeseen, yet interesting complication. “You have no idea what I’m capable of, Hunter. Perhaps, a demonstration is in order.”
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psalacanthea · 11 months
Text
Pre-WIP Wednesday
I keep forgetting about this so I am going to post it a little early.  >D  Ahead of the game, as it were.  
Sometimes you need to slow down and appreciate the world with a possessed corpse.  From the Howe x Cousland fic.  I shall tag @oxygenforthewicked and @my-dumb-obsessions and anyone else who would like to post something.  Pls tag me if you do so I can see it!
...
Phoebe wandered down the slope from the leaky cottage with its rotting thatch, the sunset light gleaming off of the water of the pond, striking the eyes.
The momentary dazzling of her vision blurred the figure standing at the edge of the water, but as she blinked rapidly and shaded her eyes, gradually her sight returned.  The armor he wore did much to obscure the reality of his body, giving him a strength and posture the withered corpse within was no longer capable of.  But he had been when he was alive.  Of that she had no doubt.
Having the choice to be a Warden and taking it anyways; what bravery.
She was slowly starting to think she hadn’t had a choice in the matter, not muddied and muddled by grief, loss, and rage as she’d been.  Oh, it wasn’t anything she’d ever say out loud– it would break Alistair’s heart– but sometimes Phoebe felt as if Duncan hadn’t saved her, but had condemned her to death.  Alistair’s heroic enshrinement of the man made it impossible to really talk about her feelings with him, but they were…complicated.
She felt grateful to and resentful of Duncan.
But those who knew what it meant and had a clear head to choose the Taint– yes, it was very brave for them to be a Warden, unlike Phoebe.
“What thoughts occupy you, my friend?” she asked Justice as she came to his shoulder, boots scuffing into the weedy, moss-dappled grass.  The last few steps down the slope were slick, soles sliding.
His head turned towards her, eye sockets starkly black and hollowed.  A helmet.  She needed to find a helmet for him.  Or Maker only knew what people would think, or do.
“This is remarkable to witness,” he said, gesturing towards the sky with a soft clash of metal plate.
Phoebe came fully to his shoulder, grateful the breeze was going past him downwind.  She wondered if the rot would worsen.  That would be a problem.  Her mind, preoccupied with that, her earlier thoughts about Duncan, and planning their next steps, finally focused on what he was actually gesturing to.
“The sunset.  You…don’t have sunsets in the fade?”
“Not–” He frowned at her, the fleshless skin of his face pulling into ridges.  “As the sun sinks to the horizon, the temperature drops, and the breeze has become stronger.  The sun is not only setting; everything is changing.”
Phoebe blinked, tilting her head skyward.  She wondered if it always did that in the evenings.  She expected someone like a miller would be able to answer that question, those whose livelihoods depended on the wind.  
“I suppose the cooling of the air is due to the movement of the sun.  I’m not certain how the winds are made, though.”
“It is rustling the leaves of the trees,” Justice said, “and the shadows move, stretching ever further.  The waves of the water are growing higher.”
“Mmh, it does that as night falls,” Phoebe said, thinking of home and the nighttime winds that came from the ocean.  It was nice to finally be able to do so without remembering things she tried so hard to keep suppressed.  “You’re saying our sunsets are more…real?” she finally asked, head tilting to the side.  “Or is it the– ah, sorry– body that makes you feel more.”
“I have no way of knowing,” Justice said, turning his piercingly uncomfortable gaze back to the sky, which was sinking into shades of indigo and violet.  “But this is…splendid.”
Phoebe smiled.  “Splendid.  Yes, it is.”
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I’ve got my eye on you
Xavier Thorp / Original Character
“I’m Xavier by the way.” The tall lanky boy released her arm and took a step back. He didn’t want to seem to intimidating to the girl, but she seemed anything but.
“Elizabeth…but you already knew that.” She said with an arch of an eyebrow “Let me guess you overheard me.”
Xavier looked down at the ground “I didn’t mean to I was just…” What was he even wanting to say to her? “You weren’t joking about that being an addicts anonymous meeting were you?”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked up at Xavier with what he thought was pity perhaps? “No. I’m an addict. Just got back from rehab after overdosing a while back…”
For some reason the only drugs that he thought she was doing was pot, but who overdoses from weed? “What…erm…did you overdose on?” He asked feeling immediately that this was a lot more serious than he had expected.
“Fuck…what don’t i take. I was on oxy, xany bars, hydros…Adderall.” Just speaking about it gave her the urge to reach into her pocket to grab her stash, afraid that it would suddenly disappear. “…Fentanyl…”
“Jesus…” Xavier said as he ran his hand through his drenched locks. She looked so lost to him and it tugged at something in his heart - what kind of life was she living to feel the need to get that high.
“Yeah…I kind of was in a coma for six days.” The blonde answered awkwardly as she played with the baggy of pills in her pocket.
The urge to just grab her and wrap his arms around her was so overwhelming; he didn’t want to ruin this moment with her by being affectionate. They’d have plenty of time to do all of that in the future. “Look…” Xavier began after taking a moment to let her words sink in “I know you don’t know me, but if you need someone to talk to…”
Elizabeth gave the lanky boy a sad smile. “Thanks Xavier…I’ll keep that in mind.” She replied feeling slightly awkward when she handed her phone over for him to put his number in.
Xavier loved hearing his name coming from her lips. It sent this spark through him that he couldn’t explain. He typed in his number and saved the contact as ‘Xavi’, a nickname those close to him used. Elizabeth in turn put her number in his phone with a nickname not too many people were allowed to use - Lilabet.
Elizabeth looked at the time on her phone before she returned it to her pocket. “I gotta get going. It was nice seeing you again and learning your name?”
He watched as she disappeared from sight unable to take his eyes off her until he could no longer see her. “Don’t worry Lilabet I’m here to save YOU.”
The next time he saw her was no accident.
Unknown to Elizabeth he turned on her location sharing when he added his number to her phone. Not to be weird but to be aware of where she was. There was nothing wrong with that certainly. It was only natural that he wanted to be worried; she had said so herself that she was an addict. She would see how much she could rely on him. How he could truly care for her. Elizabeth was everything he wanted. ‘My eyes are only on you.’
Xavier often checked the location in the days that followed and it was typical. From school, to the Weathervane and a couple houses that he decided had to be hers and her dealers, she didn’t go about much. This night however, he tracked her to a new house and immediately he found himself sitting up in his bed. Earlier when he was volunteering at the cafe he had heard the townie kids talking about a big party happening that night - of course she would be there.
Before he could control his urges he was dressed and waking up Ajax who even though annoyed at first was completely fine going to a party. It had started out with just the two of them but then they ran into Wednesday who for some reason his friend invited her to tag along. Even though the Addams girl initially seemed uninterested, she followed the two boys into town.
Following the girls shared location they ended up at a party unlike what they have at Nevermore. The place was crawling with drunken normie teens. Ajax didn’t hesitate when they walked through the door. Wednesday upon entering the house looked around in distaste. definitely not amused by what she considered idiotic behavior. Xavier couldn’t care less as they made their way through the crowd - no one seemed to notice that they didn’t belong. The only exception was his female counterpart who stuck out like a sore thumb with her black clothing and death stare. His mind was elsewhere as he searched the room for Elizabeth.
There sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table was the object of his obsession. A powder substance lined in near little rows on a small mirror as the blonde held a rolled up dollar bill in her hand. Eyes heavily lidded and a dazed look upon her face, Xavier could immediately tell that the girl was doped behind comprehension and there she was snorting line after like of whatever the powder was in front of her.
Leaning back against the couch after the last line was gone, Elizabeth could feel her heartbeat get slower and slower. shit - she hated it when that happened. Is she having a heart attack? Is this it? With eyes closed and a look of peace on her face, she waited for a moment and before she took that same rolled up dollar to snort an upper to keep herself out of the ground. Once she came back to herself she let out a laugh as she grabbed her bottle of Bud Lite and chugged it down not even noticing the door lanky boy watching her from across the room. Unsteadily she gets up to take herself to the bathroom.
‘Perfect’ Xavier thought as he separated from Ajax and Wednesday, following the girl down the hall to see where she goes.
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merlinfic · 2 years
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the ask is back open!
hi everyone! hope you all have been well! :D
please take a moment to read a few reminders now that the ask is back open (seriously, even though i post this every time i know there are still people who don’t read it so pls do!):
the ask box will only be open for one week! but the submit will continue to be open for fic recs at all times.
as previously stated, because the ask is only open for a limited time (aka once a month) please DO NOT spam us with asks. if it happens we will shut off the option for anon asks. if it continues once anon is off you will be warned and/or blocked for a sort period.
if you’re wondering what constitutes as “spamming” check out this post for more info!
general reminder that the ask is for requests/lost fics and the submit is for fic recs. if you send a request through the submit it will be deleted. this is especially true when the ask is closed! srsly we will delete it so please don’t!
be sure to take a look through the tags page, masterlist, frequently asked, and use the search feature BEFORE sending in an ask! i’ve tried to make everything as user friendly as possible!
and here’s the search guide if you need help with searching our blog or searching for fics in general! :)
because people are still unaware (how i don’t know), but we are a merlin/arthur blog, just fyi ;)
to reiterate, just know that we try our best to answer every ask that we get and we’re unlikely to post every single fic that can possibly fit. as well, we may link you to previous ask(s) especially if we’ve answered something A Lot. this blog is a big commitment and takes a lot of time and we want to answer things as efficiently as possible while still being able to help y’all out which is why we may do that!
lastly, take a moment to make sure that if you send in a fic rec we haven’t already recommended it before (be sure to check the masterlist)! if you do send in a fic we have recommended please note that only the original post we made will be reblogged and that’s it!
and that’s all! hope y’all have a good week! :)
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bloodiegawz · 2 years
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hellooo!! i really like your art omg the artstyle is very flowy and pretty and-
for the ramshacklabyrinth, i'm curious to see how farceur and mika interact with each other (and with neph, please, if you can!)
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They are going to set your house on fire
I think Mika and Neph could get along maybe...? From what I understand Neph already has similar friends, so the boundless energy and chaotic behavior isn't too out of the ordinary.
They're gonna forget Neph is blind within 0.5 seconds of learning to be honest with you.
As for Farceur, these two are going to butt heads at some point. Farcie makes a point of blatantly trying to ignore most of the group members, but I can't really see a way out of an argument here, since you learn he's kind of a whiny bitch baby once you spend some time with him.
(I hope this is alright pls I spent so long scrolling through Neph's tag djfbskj)
[THE RAMSHACKLABYRITNH]
This delves a bit into why Farceur exactly seems to hate everyone here outright, so I put it under the cut. (not to mention long as hell-)
Farceur and Mika have a very one-sided relationship, and even then it's barely there.
Mika doesn't have a clue who Farceur is, unlike other people on campus who met him and forgot after the temporal flux was fixed, Mika never had a chance to meet him until now.
Farceur has been somewhat stalking Mika for a while. He sleeps in spare rooms of Ramshackle at night and sneaks out in the mornings so they never actually run into each other, but they're close enough in proximity for Farcie to learn about them. He's incredibly jealous of Mika and has begun to hate them- albeit unfairly, he'll admit it himself but he can't seem to help it.
To him, Mika represents everything he was promised and pulled away from. The same goes for the group here, almost every person in it is a reminder of what he isn't allowed to have, and the more people show up, the worse his mood gets.
But despite all this, he doesn't really know Mika. He holds a bitter resentment for an idea, but the person is someone he honestly just doesn't know. Being cold and bitter isn't an attack on the people, but he doesn't want to get to know them either, because he needs something to project this onto.
There is, uh, one other person he feels MUCH stronger feelings towards, but we'll get to that later. You can probably guess who based on previous asks--
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lizzyverydizzyyo · 2 years
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D.E.A.N | Chapter 12 - Restart
Masterlist and overall summary of the whole novel is here. | Prompt on trope-appreciation-tuesdays that inspired this is here. | @whumptober-archive
Fandom : Original Work
(I) (II) (III) (IV) (V) (VI) (VII) (VIII) (IX) (X) (XI) (XII) (XIII) (XIV) (XV) (XVI) (XVII) (XVIII) (XIX) (XX) (XXI) (XXII) (XXIII) (XXIV) (XXV) (XXVI) (XXVII) (XXVIII) (XXIX) (XXX) (XXXI - END)
AO3
A/N hi im back and i fulfill my promise to update to chapter 12 at most by this week. see. i’m a person of my words. pls enjoy and talk to me about my fic.
(also check out the newest oneshot from Nick’s perspective when D.E.A.N still beat him up>> tumblr ao3)
Wordcount: ± 4900
TW : Anorexia (low appetite), Depression, Allusion to Suicidal Ideation (heed to other tags on the overall summary in the masterpost)
The much-needed peace and the truce appear to be on the horizon for Mark, his team, and their estranged charge. Maybe. Hopefully.
This story is set in the last half of 2016.
------
“I can’t fucking believe you’re really making us buy some French macarons and ice cream cake. 40 miles, Mark. 40 fucking miles.”
Marcus chuckles in his passenger seat without looking at Luke, taking a slight peek to the back seat where the juxtaposing weapon and other mission supplies are sitting beside colorful boxes of the sweets.
“It’s your idea. You asked me the locations, and I just put them into our GPS tracker. You’re the one who is taking it seriously and actually driving there.”
Luke shakes his head with pissed off face.
“Maybe we all are having crush on him.”
“Well, congrats on your coming out,” Mark jokes flatly.
Luke giggles. “Fuck you,” he lowly says.
“Getting there fast, huh?” Mark smirks. “I took 7 years after being outed before I fucked a guy for the first time.”
Luke bellows a laughter while repeating ‘fuck you, Mark’ as a response.
There is a comfortable silence for a while, then Luke says with relieved voice, “I’m glad you’re making gay jokes again. Thought he shoved you back into closet, with… you know.”
“Fruity Ken?”
Luke chuckles again, a bit uncomfortable this time. “Yeah.”
“Honestly, ‘fruity’ is already being reclaimed nowadays. It’s kinda funny sometimes.”
Luke laughs loudly again. “Oh, thank fuck. I almost always laughed when he called you that, but I restrained myself ‘cause I thought it’s homophobic.”
“I mean, it is,” Mark gives an agreeing face, “but it’s also creative and hilarious.”
“Can I call you that from now on?” Luke asks with a teasing smile while he focuses on taking a turn, steering the wheel sideways.
“Absolutely fucking not. Reclaimed by me, not you,” Mark replies, looking at the rearview mirror out of habit to see if there are suspicious people following them. “Maybe I’ll change my code name to that on the field, though. ‘Fruity Ken reporting in. Over.’”
Luke cackles again at Mark’s exaggerated field voice until he is breathless while Mark just shakes his head lightly with his own chuckles.
“Honestly, you don’t even look like Ken doll,” Luke quips in absently afterwards.
“I’m blond and have blue eyes.”
Luke looks contemplative. “Yeah, but, I don’t know, man. Ken doll usually has pretty boy face, unlike you.”
Mark doesn’t reply, giving a slight thought to how all the Ken dolls that he has ever encountered look like, not that he really cares. There are not many, so he doesn’t know how they look like, really.
“Like that famous male model, called Francisco something. Kind of.”
“Francisco Lachowski?” Mark offers.
“Yeah. Anyway, if anything, George and Nick himself look more like Ken dolls, but with different hair and eye colors. Maybe because they’re still older adolescent guys. But still, more similar, you know?”
Luke then gives a millisecond glance at Mark’s face as Mark raises an eyebrow in question before returning to looking at the road ahead.
“You look quite masculine. Like, uh…” Luke furrows his eyebrows, “…that actor in that Taylor Swift’s 40s savanna style music video. Dunno what the song’s called. Also the actor’s name. I think he is Clint Eastwood’s son or something.”
Mark furrows his eyebrows in disbelief. “You mean Scott Eastwood? The guy in that suckass Suicide Squad?”
“Is that his name? Whatever, him, yeah. But younger, I guess.”
Mark thinks on it for a bit. “Don’t know if I should feel flattered or not.”
Luke chuckles. “It’s not like I’m comparing you to the grinch, Mark. Take it as a compliment.”
“Thanks, I guess,” Mark finally responds with a slight smile.
After another silence lapses, Luke chuckles again before exaggeratedly exhaling loudly like he is so exhausted by the weight of the world.
“What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into? Thought we were supposed to be special task force assigned to bring down international criminal syndicate.”
“Hmm.”
“Instead, we’re just talking about some fucking plastic dolls and buying pastries from out of state. What’s happened to us?”
Despite that, there is no sharpness in Luke’s voice. It’s more like an affectionate reminiscing voice parents have when talking about their kids’ childhood shenanigans.
“We’re still humans, Luke. The targets we’re dealing with are also humans, unfortunately. Whether we planned it or not, we’re gonna have to deal with human things eventually.”
“True.”
Luke concludes, followed by free and calm silence the whole ride back—the calm that they desperately need after the stifling and stressful atmosphere back in the headquarter lately.
***
Luke is awkwardly pacing back and forth in front of Nick’s bedroom while Mark tries to give him a reassuring thumbs-up to convince him. Anna and Don just shake their heads while Mary and Lena are surreptitiously watching from their spots with bated breath.
It is honestly so funny to see their usual self-assured and ballsy teammate like this. It’s so unbecoming of Luke.
“Mark, you do it!” he finally exclaims.
Mark raises an eyebrow.
“You bought the macarons. You do it.”
Luke frowns. He looks at another direction.
“Horace. You’re our leader. Set an example and give this to him.”
Their commanding officer furrows his eyebrows irritably.
“Uh, no. You came up with the idea.”
“Actually, you did, Horace, few weeks ago when we were looking at his twitter,” Anderson quips in absently as he is eating a piece of the ice cream cake while looking at lines of codes on his laptop.
“I wasn’t serious.”
Anderson slurps loudly as he spoons the melted part into his mouth. “Still.”
Luke perks up. “Anderson, you do it. You took a piece of his cake already. It’s only fair.”
Anderson whips his head to Luke’s direction with a glare. “Absolutely not. He’s probably not going to finish it so I’m just preemptively helping him.”
Luke looks around again to find another victim, then lands on George who is watching the surveillance to Nick’s room.
“You, ginger. You’re the youngest and closest to his age. Give it to him.”
Everyone looks at George with meaningful looks and slowly blooming mischievous smiles.
George raises his head and slowly looks around in confusion. “What? Why are you all looking at me?”
Luke rolls his eyes and walks to George confidently, seeing as he already finds his victim. The older man puts the box of macarons on George’s lap.
“Give it to him. He probably tolerates you the most.”
George frowns as he isn’t asked of his opinion. “But—”
“Come on. He is so depressed and hasn’t eaten anything in the last few days,” Luke tells him with intentionally gentle and pleading voice.
George stares at him with irritated look for few seconds, then sighs and stands up while holding the box to walk to Nick’s bedroom.
Luke punches the air in victory while exclaiming, “Yesss!”
George looks back unsurely at the room where his fellow agents are lounging around, then knocks the door.
“Hey, bud. Can I come in? We have some snack for you.”
Like usual, George doesn’t get a response, so he just softly opens the door and walks in. Everyone then turns to look at the surveillance monitor instead with bated breath again.
George is inside, his voice carries over in static voice to cajole Nick to get up and eat the snack at least a little bit. He tries a little bit more for a while, but Nick stays lying down with soulless eyes and dried tear streaks that he weirdly cries silently and emptily sometimes.
Eventually, George sighs and throws a little look at the surveillance camera before putting the box of pastries on the bedside table. Then he walks out and closes the door gently behind him.
Everyone looks at him questioningly while George just shrugs. A chorus of dejected sighs follows after.
***
The next day, someone draws a circle of with those anti-ant chalk around the box of macarons and the plate of food considering they notice some ants crawling around the bedside table.
Nick still just lays down, this time with tears flowing from his eerily unmoving face.
Mark just sighs when he puts down a glass of new water to replace the glass of tepid one from yesterday.
“I feel like maybe we need Doctor Lowe to prescribe him some anti-depressants or something,” Angie says to him as he closes the door behind him. “He’s starving himself, either because he really has no appetite or intentionally because he doesn’t want to live anymore.”
Mark rubs the bridge of his nose.
“He doesn’t even eat. How are we supposed to make him take anti-depressant? He didn’t even take his previous meds, even some of the antibiotics.”
Angie throws her hands in the air in frustration. “Well, what are we supposed to do, then?”
Mark slumps back against the door.
“Talk to him, maybe. I don’t know.”
“He doesn’t exactly talk back, Mark.”
He looks around to his teammates who are in the room with him. “I know, but we’re running out of options. Even anti-depressant will take weeks to take effect.”
Angie, Mark, and Luke then train their marksmanship in their makeshift shooting range to distract themselves eventually, the air still tense with concerns.
When Mark walks into the team room again—which is less of a room and more like a giant hallway functioning as their ‘living room’ where most of their other rooms are connected to—he sees Mary, Anderson, and Horace hunched over their digital touchscreen map on the high-tech table, and they also look distracted. Anna, Lena, George, and Don are nowhere to be found, probably exercising or training their martial arts with each other in the gym.
He looks again towards the door of Nick’s bedroom, contemplating shortly.
Maybe, like he said, they all need to verbally apologize to him and assure him they’re not his enemies to make him come out of his funk. So, Mark walks there firmly, continuously reassuring himself that he is doing the right thing.
He can feel the stares of his fellow agents, but he walks on until he is near the door. He inhales and knocks gently before opening the door.
Just as usual, Nick doesn’t react at all as he just lays down on the bed with his typical thousand-yards stare.
“Hey, Nick?”
Of course, he is not going to get a response.
“How are you feeling? You haven’t eaten anything lately. Aren’t you hungry?”
Mark then walks near the bed while pulling a chair to sit.
“Do you… do you not like the food? Is there something else you’d like instead?”
Nick doesn’t move or make a sound, just does a half-blink, probably instinctually because his eyes are getting dry.
Even with the colorful irises, his eyes look so dark and empty.
“I’m…,” Mark gulps, “I’m sorry. For my harsh words. I was… I was angry.”
Of course, he was. Everything rash he did lately was because he was angry. Maybe he should learn better anger management techniques.
“You’re not… you’re not a coward. You’re just reacting how anyone would react when treated so badly all the time. Anyone would be scared, but also bitter.”
He inhales.
“I mean, I don’t appreciate your insults to us. Some of them went too far, you know? I hope you don’t actually mean those. Would be a shame if you’re actually a bigot.”
Shit, why would he say accusing thing like that?
“I…I mean, I’m sure you’re not, right? You’re just frustrated and feels stuck and imprisoned by us. The only safe thing you can do to feel like you have control is verbally hurting us.”
He looks at Nick’s swirly blue-brown eyes that are so deeply etched in his mind by now. Either though guilt and shock after almost taking Nick’s life, or sympathy and sadness for him when he kept reading about Nick’s previous life before being taken. And, also for all the time he was trying to take care of Nick while badly ill.
Of course, he can’t forget the deep fury and also sorrow filling his eyes as he kept throwing stuff at Mark several days ago, when he finally hit the most vulnerable part in Nick’s heart.
“I’m truly sorry. I’ve forgiven you for your words because I understand why. I think the others are willing to do that too.”
Maybe, or maybe some of them still hold resentment despite being sympathetic with Nick. He hopes they’re still willing to offer an olive branch to Nick anyway.
“I hope you’re willing to forgive us too.” He contemplates a little bit more. “Forgive me too.”
There is something clenching his heart achingly when he stares at Nick’s surrendered and lifeless eyes. Those colorful eyes are supposed to be filled with youthful spirit and hope for the future, not soulless like this.
“I don’t want you to give up, whatever pain you’re feeling right now. I don’t want you to punish yourself or hurt yourself like this.”
Mark stares at Nick’s body for a while, then slowly and jerkily reaches out a hand to touch Nick’s shoulder to squeeze it slightly in reassuring manner.
Mark gives a slight smile. “Get better soon, okay?”
Somehow, what Mark did inspires the others to sneakily goes into Nick’s room in the coming days to give their own heartfelt words with wish for peace and reciprocal forgiveness.
He hears Luke says, “Hey, kid, I didn’t like your racist tone before, but even the most horrendous people deserve second chance, you know? I know you’re a good kid. Sorry if we pushed you to the point of saying something that horrible just to release your hurt.”
Lena says something quite similar, while Horace says, “I feel like I’m not being a good leader, especially since I can’t make you get better. Just give me one thing so that I don��t feel like our previous commanding officer chose the wrong person. Please.”
Mary and George try to playfully tease Nick, saying that they were very nice to him and took care at him really well, so can he please be nice to them both at least and not make them feel crazy for talking to themselves?
The next day, Anderson tells him, begrudgingly, that he is sorry for roughing him up before. “I feel like you’re the only smart person here who won’t make me feel like I’m an underpaid tech guy helping a grandma find a power button. Just hang out with me, okay?”
Angie is a little bit more stilted, but she still tries to be earnest in her apology.
And, of course, Don and Anna have to be pushed bodily into the bedroom to apologize. And even then, they only give begrudging kindergarten-kid style of apologies with only, “Sorry we were mean,” before getting out and hissing that they apologized already.
For a while, they thought it wouldn’t work, but as they lose hope, there is rustling sound from the surveillance monitor few days later. They all immediately turn their heads towards it.
They see Nick weakly pushing his own body up to sitting position as he stares at his bedside table. He stays still for a while before shakily reaching out a hand to grab the box with his arm that isn’t still in arm sling.
He stares at it again before putting the bottom part of the box against his left palm, then he slowly pulls the upper part covering the box with slight difficulty as his left arm isn’t as mobile as the other one. He winces several times while painstakingly pulling it.
Everyone is watching the monitor with bated breath and slight smile blooming on their face.
Nick finally opens the box and gently put the upper covering down next to his thighs on the bed. He stares a little bit at the content of the pastries box filled with slightly collapsed snacks, as they were left out uneaten for days.
Unexpectedly, Nick’s face scrunches up into weeping face and he chokes out sobs instead. He bows down his head to his bent right knee with an arm wrapped around his knee and his head, like his usual position when he was still in their holding cell. His shoulder shakes repeatedly in time with his sobs as he audibly cries.
“What?” Anderson exclaims.
Now they look puzzled.
Angie turns to Mark as they both have puzzled look and furrowed eyebrows. “I thought you said he likes French macarons.”
“Well, yeah,” Mark replies unsurely, “his social medias are filled with cats and French macarons. Besides coding and high school stuff. He even said he can bake it.”
“Then why the hell is he crying like he is looking at his dead family?” Luke asks pointedly.
“I…I don’t know.”
As their confusion goes on, Nick surprisingly takes one of the colorful pastries, even as he continues shaking and hiccupping in tears, then bites it carefully. He then sobs hard again.
“What the fuck is going on?” Don asks, puzzled and irritated.
“Does he have trauma with macarons or something?” Lena questions.
Luke blanches. “Shit, maybe we’re making it worse.”
Mark instinctively stands up and walks on to Nick’s bedroom, knocking gently like usual before opening the door.
Unlike before when Nick didn’t ever react, he now looks up with wet face and tearful eyes that make his swirly blue-brown eyes look more… ethereal and heartstring-pulling.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Are they bad? Do you not like it?”
Nick tries to open his mouth, but he is sobbing too hard to talk, so Mark walks slowly and sits on the nearest chair. He waits patiently for a while as Nick is visibly trying to control his sobbing, hiccupping repeatedly.
Finally, he says, “I haven’t had this in years.”
He tries to rub his face and erase his tears, failing miserably. So, he just keeps crying while looking at Mark.
Mark has never thought he would ever hear it from the boy, but Nick does say with tearful, but slightly smiling and grateful face,
“Thank you.”
***
Nick has started to eat the food brought to him, now going back to pureed food again under advisement of Doctor Lowe to prevent refeeding syndrome. They also put his prescribed multivitamins and other supplement to help him get better, along with some anti-depressant and anxiety medications that Nick now takes dutifully.
He still doesn’t eat much, probably trying to get used to normal food and its portion after getting starved for so long.
The half-Asian boy doesn’t talk much either, but he does give small smile every once in while as new food and medication are brought to him.
The environment seems a little less stiff now. Some of them even sometimes stay after giving him food and new clothes to tell him stories about their mission or absently explaining some intel to him, not really expecting him to understand or respond.
Sometimes Nick looks raptly at them, or he looks down almost close to tears again, which they now understand as him feeling a little too reminiscent of his time in Helga, so they change the subject to something domestic like talking about cooking, their dislike towards standard D.E.A.N prepackaged instant foods, or some chores they like to do.
Sometimes he still cries silently and has lower appetite again, or worse yet, he stares off into the wall with dissociated eyes like before.
Some of them, like Don, Anna, Angie, Anderson, and George, don’t really have the patience to sit through Nick’s crying fit and dissociated state, so they stop going to his room to talk to him and are just back to doing whatever they were doing before as they entrust Nick’s wellbeing to the rest, including Mark.
At some point, when Nick looks less sad, they look at their fridge randomly. They find that they still have some of their ice cream cake left. So, Mark, Lena, Luke, Horace, and Mary impulsively decide to bring it with some candle—their usual one for emergency or blackout which is the only ones they have, so it’s pretty big for the cake—to Nick’s bedroom.
Nick is looking down at his fiddling fingers, now that his arm is out of the sling, but he looks up in surprise to see more people than usual at once.
“Happy belated 21st birthday!” they all exclaim to him.
Nick looks surprised but he unsurely and slightly smiles.
“You don’t… you don’t have to burden yourself like this.”
Lena says with beaming smile says, “Nonsense. It’s a 21st birthday. It’s supposed to be special.”
“Yeah, but sorry, we ate some of it. We haven’t had sweets in a while in the mission,” Mark tells him absently.
“Anderson mostly ate it, though, not us,” Luke quips in.
“I heard that! Asshole!” they hear Anderson from the outside yelling at them, presumably listening and watching the live feed to Nick’s surveillance camera.
Nick giggles a little, the sound sending a jolt of… something delightful in Mark’s heart. He brushes it off.
“Oh, that’s a lot. I can’t finish them,” he says with small voice, seemingly still not confident and calm in their midst.
“Well, there are 6 of us here,” Horace says. “The others don’t get to eat some, though. They didn’t want to come in with us.”
“Happy diabetes, then, bastards,” Anna exclaims this time.
Ignoring the cynic, Lena puts the plastic covering on the bedside table as they open the lid and pulls a plastic knife with some paper plates. They cut the remaining cake, thankfully still over a half of it, to six roughly equal pieces.
“Here, the birthday boy gets it first.” Lena hands one piece on a paper plate to Nick.
“I think… that was a long time ago already,” he quietly murmurs.
“Doesn’t matter, you’re still the birthday boy,” they reply as they try to steady Nick’s slightly trembling hands. “OH! Wait!”
Everyone looks at Lena in question.
“Make a wish and blow the candle first!”
Nick looks questioningly at them with unsure face, staring warily to the candle.
“Um, okay.”
He still stares unsurely a little bit, some slight fear even visible in his eyes that makes the others look doubtful about the candle. Maybe he has some traumatizing memory with candle.
Still, he eventually inhales deeply before leaning forward anyway with shaky smile, then blows the large candle. He has to blow several times as the air he blows is quite weak, up until the third blow that completely snuffs the flame.
“Yay! Congrats, here is to a better 21st birthday celebration and so on!”
Nick smiles again at Lena, now finally receiving the cake piece completely in his hands. Everyone follows suit one by one to receive the cake piece. Few of them gently sit on the side of the bed due to lack of chairs.
“You guys really don’t have to do this. I feel like I’m taking important time for your work.”
Mark looks at him with genuine smile. “It’s for us too, to be honest. Sometimes it's so tense and stressful. Having a nice fun time like this every once in a while is something that we need.”
He hears a chorus of ‘Yeah, true’ from his fellow agents.
After a while of comfortable silence, Nick puts down his plate on his laps with some of the slightly melted cake left. There is contemplating and slightly frowning look on his face.
Everyone looks at each other before pausing their eating.
“I’m sorry, for being vile to all of you.”
There is soft look on their faces.
“You’re right,” Nick looks particularly at Mark for a bit, “that I want to take out my years of frustration, and you know, those two weeks frustration too,” he chuckles a little but schools his expression again when the others look uncomfortable, “on someone, anyone. I just, kept it all in for survival, but I was dying to get it off my chest for once.”
Mark and his teammates look serenely at Nick.
“I was so bad to all of you, trying to find what hurt all of you the most. I was just so sick of being hurt that I want to do it back to someone.”
He is silent as he thinks more, so they wait patiently.
“It’s ironic, actually, what I said to four of you, specifically,” He looks at Luke, Horace, Lena, and Mark.
“Not that what I called you isn’t bad,” he quickly adds facing Mary.
“But, you know, I’m half Vietnamese—also, half Russian, in case you can’t tell from my full name—and I had other kids telling me to ‘go back to your country, you ugly communist!’”
“Ouch,” Horace responds emphatically.
Mark looks forlorn on behalf of Nick at his exaggerated voice reminiscing his childhood bullying. Then, he furrows his eyebrows.
“Wait, why ironic with me and Lena?”
Nick spoons around the melted cake absently as he looks down.
“Are you gay?” Lena asks, sounding slightly shocked.
“Not gay,” he mutters, “Bi.”
Mark smiles smugly and surreptitiously at Luke. Luke just rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, you have a good gaydar, yada yada yada,” Luke jokingly says.
Nick looks at Mark through his lashes. “You knew?”
“Just got the vibe from your last tweet.”
Luke interjects playfully, “Because he has crush on you and is trying to find out if he has a chance with you.”
“Shut the fuck up, Luke. I’m not that unethical.”
They all chuckle, as Nick just smiles slightly, giving a millisecond look at Mark.
Mark blinks and looks away with a gulp. Of course, he is not going to be that unethical.
Right?
“Anyway,” Mary quips in, “I know you were trying to be mean with me, but I’m not too offended, actually, because my family used to call me barbie. You know, as a way to call me pretty.”
He eyes Mary a little contemplatively.
“I mean, yeah, you’re very pretty for a specialized task force agent,” Nick jokes.
“Thanks,” Mary beams. “I’m just offended you keep confusing me with Angie, sometimes you called me Plastic Barbie One, but sometimes Two. Makes me feel very forgettable.”
Nick looks down in shame. “Sorry.”
“I’m kidding.” Mary giggles.
Something comes up in Mark’s mind.
“But, you do know the difference between Mary and Angie, right?”
“Um,” Nick spoons the melted cream a little more frantically this time, “I know you both have different hair length. And you’re the younger one.”
“Oh, it’s fine. It’s not like we’re ever formally introduced ourselves. I’m Mary,” she points at herself, “and this one is Luke,” she points at the older man with dark skin, “and this one is Horace, our commanding officer,” she now points at their tall Latino leader, “and this—”
“Wait, I thought the captain is you,” Nick interjects while looking at Luke.
Everyone is suddenly feeling awkward and uncomfortable with the unsaid contention that Nick now blatantly points out.
Luke raises his hands as a placating movement, saying hurriedly, “Oh no, not me. Horace is our commanding officer. Also, he is older than me anyway.”
“Oh sorry, I didn’t know,” Nick says apologetically and widens his eyes, before continuing, “I think I remember vaguely something about you being chosen by the previous one. I forgot, I’m so sorry!”
Horace gives a smile, even if there is something forced on the edge, “It’s all right, kid. We’re all supposed to be equal teammates anyway.”
Not really, not with Jackson before, Mark thinks but he keeps his mouth shut.
“And you’re Lena, I remember that. You’re the one who takes care of me often,” he finally looks at Lena, earning a wide smile from them as they realize Nick acknowledges them the most.
“You know who his name is?” Luke now asks, pointing at Mark.
“Something starting with M, I think?” he says, cocking his head to the side.
Mark is too focused at staring at Nick’s colorful eyes that he has to have Luke elbow him to refocus his attention.
“Your name,” Luke says with meaningful stare.
“Uh, yeah. Marcus. Or Mark. Whichever really.”
Nick looks a little bashful, making him appear… sweet. Kind of.
What the fuck is happening to him?
“Um, hi. Mark. Sorry I threw stuff at you.”
Mark waves it off, partly to pull his thought out of his musing. “It’s fine. Wasn’t too bad. It stopped aching like two days later.”
They continue eating the cake, lightly commenting on the taste and how much or little they like the dessert. They also ask Nick if he likes the macarons, which he does, but he says that he likes his own baked pastries usually, even if the ingredients are expensive.
Eventually, they all finish their cake and are starting to stack the plates and cutleries to throw out the one-time-use items and bring the rest to the kitchen sink. Nick offers to help, but they insist that he just rests instead.
He seems to want to insist anyway, but his eyes look half-lidded, so they tell him to just nap, then they leave him to sleep in his room on his own.
Ten minutes later, Mark sees from the surveillance monitor that Nick’s eyes are closed and his chest rises and falls steadily.
“‘Wasn’t too bad. It stopped aching like two days later,’ huh? Trying to impress him with your strength or something?” Luke teases him.
Mark just shakes his head with a ‘fuck you, Luke’, which the older man responds with a cackle.
***
(I) (II) (III) (IV) (V) (VI) (VII) (VIII) (IX) (X) (XI) (XII) (XIII) (XIV) (XV) (XVI) (XVII) (XVIII) (XIX) (XX) (XXI) (XXII) (XXIII) (XXIV) (XXV) (XXVI) (XXVII) (XXVIII) (XXIX) (XXX) (XXXI - END)
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admiringlove · 3 years
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hurtful things
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+synopsis: genshin boys and the hurtful things they said.
+genre: angst; headcanons.
+characters: kaeya; diluc; childe; zhongli.
+warnings: swearing; crying; implied panic attack.
+order: hey bubs! i saw you doing requests and i HAD to ask for genshin angst :) spare me some tears pls <//3 preferably w kaeya or diluc or childe :) [submitted by @crackheadsara​]
+author’s note: okay so i included zhongli bc he’s the love of my life, also i needed comfort from him after writing such hurtful things :D
+navigation: main menu, genshin menu.
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— KAEYA.
“i’m better off without you.”
you know from the way your door was knocked in the middle of the night on a weekday after months, that it’s kaeya. you rub your eyes sleepily, trudging towards the door as anger and doubt fuse into a nasty green in your mind. 
you unlock the door, pulling it open to see the man with the eyepatch tapping his foot on the deck of your home impatiently. he smirks when his eye lands on you, attempting to walk in but stopping himself when he realizes you're standing at the door, unmoving. 
"kaeya, it's three in the morning. and it's monday. i have to report to jean in three hours," you mumble tiredly as you look up at him. the lamp grass by your windowsill outside and the moonlit night accentuated his cerulean eyes and contrasting coffee-colored skin. he frowns, peering down at you as he asks, "may i come in?"
you shrug, opening the door wide as you let the man in. he places his sword on the table and proceeds to walk into the bedroom when you ask, "where have you been for the past two weeks?"
"work," his reply is the same. you let out a sigh in impatience as you retort, "that's the same excuse as always."
he was tired and wanted to sleep off the fatigue from his latest mission. but when he hears you say that, something in him snaps and he turns around, his jaw clenched and a fixed glare making you a little agitated. he raises an eyebrow as he says, "well, unlike you, i am an actual important member of the knights of favonius."
"kaeya, all i meant was that you're always gone. you never write a letter back even if i send you one, and you somehow manage to come back every single time, expecting that it doesn't hurt me. what am i supposed to do?" your voice is small as you look down, hair drooping towards the ground. you're not even yelling at him, you're just worried. he always leaves you alone(sometimes you tag along, but you couldn't tell why nowadays he'd leave you alone without some sort of warning).
"does it ever occur to you that you're just a hindrance?" he bites back, thinking that you're trying to put up a front. you flinch at his words, causing him to force a jeer before he starts again, "you always come along, so maybe i wanted to be away from you for a bit. that's why i leave without a warning so i don't have to tend to your yapping all day. because i'm better off without you."
you gasp as you look up to his figure, now retreating to your shared bedroom. you hear him fall onto the bed with a content sigh as you stand there, wiping at your tears incessantly as hiccups escape your lips. you bit your tongue to stop yourself from crying, pressing a hand on your mouth to muffle the sounds so you don't disturb kaeya. you get a quick peek in, eyes widening when you see him sound asleep and tucked in. 
so that's how it was, you think. 
the next morning, kaeya wakes up to a cold bed as his arm reaches out to an empty space. his eyes immediately pry open as he wakes up, to see that you weren't here. 
ah, he ponders to himself, you must've gone to tend to your duties. 
he stretches, letting out a yawn before walking out to the kitchen. he smiles when he sees a plate of food left for him on the countertop with a note from you. but somehow, something felt very wrong about this whole ordeal. this had happened before—he had come back from insanely long missions to you before, so what felt different?
and then it hits him. the things he said last night. he frantically looks around, his azure eyes completely drowned in horror as he notices small changes in your shared household. a few picture frames are missing on the living room walls, your keychain isn't on the bookshelf anymore, and worst of all, when he runs into the closet, half of your clothes are gone. 
did you really feel that bad about what he said?
in panic, he runs out and keeps going till he reaches the headquarters of the knights. he barges in this time, not returning the greetings of the guards upfront as he walks into jean's office. 
"where are they?" he pants, "i-i messed up, do you know where they are?"
jean's eyes widen as she says, "our associates were having a hard time handling with the fatui in liyue harbor so they volunteered to go there for sometime."
"how long has it been?"
"they left long ago, it's about to be around ten hours since," she says. kaeya's heart shatters as he hears those words. he hadn't expected you to outright leave like that, but if you had said the same things to him, he definitely would've stormed out. his voice cracks as he looks at the ground in shame, "h-how long until they'll be back?"
"i.. don't know."
he regrets everything he's said. he truly does because he doesn't even notice that tears are streaming down his cheeks until jean comes to his aid. he hates himself for all of it—he hates that he has to live in a home where traces of you are visible everywhere; worst of all, he hates how he knows he lost you for good. even if you come back, he knows you wouldn’t run and melt into his arms like you did before. you’re gone now, fading into the darkness and away from him. 
maybe it was for the best.
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— DILUC.
“you’re nothing but a burden.”
after taking on a few abyss mages and mitachurls, diluc lets a grunt out in pain before you see the slash on his right arm. you gasp, pulling him to the side of the lake as you pull out a bandage and cotton from your bag to clean his wounds. he's reluctant to it at first, but he sits there quietly and broods as you clean the blood with cotton and some type of healing ointment. 
you tie the bandage on his arm, a tiny bit of vermillion liquid seeping through the white cloth before sitting down next to him, finally catching a breath. sighing, you look up at him and say, "that was reckless."
"no, what you did was reckless. who told you to come along with me to dadaupa gorge? you knew what you were getting into when you came along, so don't put this on me," he grumbled, frowning as you look at him with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. you are sort of hurt, but you know he's only saying this in faux indignation, so it's okay. you chuckle out, beginning, "diluc, i was-"
"i don't know why i even bother with you at this point," he exasperates, looking into the distance behind you. he curses slightly under his breath, his rouge eyes filled to the brim with anger as it finally overflows, "you're nothing but a burden."
your eyes suddenly flick to gape at him in disbelief. you stand up, your voice hitching in your throat as you ask, "diluc, you mean that?"
and it all simmers down into ashes when he mumbles "of course i do" under his breath. your vision is blurry as you walk away from the red-haired man, your body trembling as you almost give away that you're crying your eyes out. you walk back in the direction the two of you came from, leaving your broken heart in the hands of diluc, who sat by the lake not muttering a word after. 
he knows he's said things he doesn't mean; he does that all the time, but you probably knew that. he figures you're leaving to catch a breath of fresh air—to be away from the tension-filled environment for a bit, you had a habit of doing that at home. he sighs as he ponders over his words for a bit. he knew it was wrong to display such harshness to you, but you probably knew he didn't mean anything by it. he always bubbled over rash things when he was frustrated. 
the sun sets in front of him, painting hues of aubergine and peach as it flows down. he wonders where you are, getting up from his spot by the lake to venture towards the path you walked off. 
only when he can't find you, is when he thinks that you might've actually taken offense to his words. although he cares about you sincerely, he finishes his mission first, getting a lead on the abyss order—because protecting monstadt was his first priority. you lingered in his mind every second of every day till he finally got back home. and when he didn't find you there, he asks adelinde about it, who only shakes her head and tells him, "i'm sorry, master diluc, but i haven't seen them come back. i thought they were with you."
it all pieces together in his mind now, how a small gasp had escaped your lips when he had called you a burden. the way you nodded begrudgingly, getting up and walking away from his presence as your shoulders trembled. the way he could hear you choke back a sob, but still ignored it, thinking you had overreacted in the situation. 
he searches the whole city for you. he searches every nook and corner, and even walks into the headquarters of the knights of favonius(he ignores kaeya's teases instead of biting back this time). and when he finally sees you, he holds himself back. his hand is suspended awkwardly in the air as he reaches out for you, your back turned towards him. 
maybe this was better—maybe it was a good thing that you had walked away from him. this way, the abyss order won't be able to harm you. this way, he won't be able to harm you. this way, you'll be safe and sound, away from the storm known as diluc ragnvindr.
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— CHILDE.
“it’s not like you mean anything to me.”
it's not often you see childe. he's always in liyue, and you're here, stuck in monstadt or snezhnaya. it's cold today(as it always is) in snezhnaya, the snow covered almost everything outside as you looked out of your window, sipping on hot coffee as you sigh at the wilting roses on the sill. they'd wilted when you had gone to monstadt and you didn't have the heart to plant new ones.
just thinking about the blue-eyed childish man would make your heart bloom and cheeks flustered. you longed to spend more time with him, really. if only he wasn't affiliated with the fatui, he'd be able to spend more time with you. it had been months since you had seen him, and you longed to be in his arms once again, but who knows when that'll happen again? whenever he comes home, he chooses to spend a night with you and then head back. he'd laugh alongside you, tell you about his adventures, and give small reactions when you told him about yours. and the next morning, you'd wake up to an empty bed with a small note by the table, saying how he has to leave for work.  
a knock at your door snaps you out of your entranced state. as you open the lock and look out, you see childe, standing there with a tired grin and disheveled hair as he walks in without a word. he hands you a small paper bag, saying, "i brought you back something from liyue this time."
the same excuse, you think. it's always the same. he brings back small mementos and souvenirs as a pretense for staying, and by the time you think you can forgive him, he's gone. he plops down onto the sofa, stretching his arm out so you could join him. the thought of confronting him crosses your mind, but you shake it off—since he had only just gotten back. 
the night is the same as always. talking about each others' adventures, eating dinner by the fireplace, laughing alongside one another until you hit the bed. it's quiet now as you watch over his sleeping figure, his lapis-colored eyes now hidden. you sigh as you lay there for hours on end, twiddling with his brown hair as you wait for him to wake up(so this time you can actually say goodbye). 
when his eyes flutter open, he's a little taken aback when he looks over at you to see you wide awake. his brows furrow just a smidge as he says, "you're up."
"well, i wanted to say goodbye this time," you chuckle dryly, "you always leave without waking me up."
"i don't like the way you said that," he says, getting up from his position on the bed. you look away from him, your eyes displaying hurt as you murmur, "i don't like the way you leave."
"well, it's my job. it's not like i'm an adventurer like you, wasting my time around. i'm a harbinger and i have responsibilities," he says. his voice is neither too soft and nor too prickly, and you can tell that he's a little worked up by the way he lightly nips on the skin of his bottom lip as his gaze bores into you. 
"i didn't say you don't. all i said was that you could maybe sometimes stay for more than one night. it feels like you're using me, and when you're bored, you leave."
"oh?" he cocks an eyebrow as he stands up, "i'm using you, huh?"
you grimace at the tone of his voice, and when you look at him, you notice the sheer annoyance he puts up towards you. your voice is small when you ask him if he loves you—because you don't know anymore. seeing him once in a few months for the past few years has sure hurt you more than anything, and if you don't tell him now, then you might never get a chance. 
"what if i say i don't?" he smirks, walking up to you, "it's not like you mean anything to me. what if i agree that i am using you to make myself happy until i'm bored, so i can then throw you away?"
he doesn't like what he's saying either. his mind is screaming at him to stop, but he's worked up. he's irritated by the way you jabbed at him first thing in the morning, even though he knows you're right. his heart almost stops when he looks at the expression on your face after he says those words, and as he reaches out his hand for you, you turn away. 
your voice cracks, and he's sure his heart did as well when you mumble, "i-i'd like you to leave, please."
"wait, i didn't mean-"
"tartaglia," your eyes look into his, perhaps for the last time, as you give him a sad smile, "you don't have to come back to me anymore."
it hurts him as he leaves your home that morning. it hurts him when he comes back months later to see that your home is now empty. it hurts him because he tarnished the you that was once his. 
it hurts him, but he thinks it's for the best if you stay away from him if all he does is bring you pain.
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— ZHONGLI.
“i’d like you to leave me alone.”
zhongli was never one to pick fights. he was peaceful; his thoughts were positive(most of the time), and he almost always preferred to talk about his problem rather than fighting about it—he believes that fighting will only bring pain, so why not confide in one another about our problems instead?
he's quiet. he's not shy(it's quite the opposite, actually), but he's one to prefer to only talk when absolutely necessary. he's the type to listen rather than speak, saying something like, "we have two ears and one mouth. speak less than you listen."
he smiles when his mind goes back to the time when he said that to you while having a cup of tea together, and you'd replied, "my mother used to tell me that when i was a child."
because it's true; every child in liyue harbor has heard those words at least once in their lives. the quality of listening is appreciated more than the quality of speaking—and zhongli, for one, was a listener. 
you, on the other hand, were a speaker. you always woke him up every morning with a smile as bright and everlasting as the sun, babbling about breakfast and tea as he got up from the bed. you were the one that carried conversations on your shoulders on morning walks, you were the one that intertwined your fingers with his as the two of you walked amongst flowers, adoring them as you talked about the contrasting colors of silk flowers and glaze lilies. he loved you for that. he loved you because you were a speaker. he loved you because you were a perfect balance, the only one who could soften his hardened heart. the only one whom he'd chosen to wake up next to in the mornings, the only one whom he'd let ruffle his hair without asking(because he secretly liked it). 
so why had he reversed the roles tonight? why was he the one to bubble out his frustrations to you, speaking in a cold and stern manner instead of the loving tone that was only reserved for you? why was he the one to speak tonight, and why were you the one to listen?
it's not like he was actually frustrated—he was only thinking about something else as you asked him what he wanted for dinner. it surely wasn't your fault when he had poured over turbulent words to you. and he knows that the ones that hurt the most probably were, "i'd like you to leave me alone."
he looks up at the stars, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he walks back into his shared home with you. he looks around, and when there's no sign of you, he feels himself break apart even more. 
had you actually left? he wants to run to you and tell you he hadn't meant any of those words because he hadn't. he wants to touch you, to caress you, to please you, to make you smile—and he wants to admit he was wrong. he wants to make it right, but he doesn't know where you are. 
he walks into the empty bedroom, sitting on the cold mattress as his eyes sting. he doesn't understand what's happening, or why there are small drops of water falling from his eyes. he doesn't understand why everything feels heavy all of a sudden—his heart, his throat his lungs, everything. he doesn't understand why he feels like he's trapped in a box, and the water seems to be filling up more quickly than he'd prefer. he wants to reach for air, but he can't.
he couldn't breathe without you. 
he hears the door close and immediately gets up in haste to walk to the living room where he sees you take off your boots. you turn around to see him, his disheveled hair and frantic eyes finally calming as he walks over to you and engulfs you in a warm embrace. his throat cleared up, and so did his heart and lungs as he mumbles against your ear, "i'm so sorry."
you smile smally, looking up at him as you cup his cheeks and wipe a stray tear, and mutter, "it's okay, zhongli. stress gets to the best of us."
god, how he loves you. he places a small peck on the top of your forehead as he feels his lips turn upward at your touch and the scent of glaze lilies lingering over you tells him that you'd been to the flower garden. he sleeps with your fingers weaved with his that night and pulls you even closer if you untangle with him in sleep. 
he makes a promise to himself saying he'd never hurt you like that again, and he keeps it.
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mrpenguinpants · 3 years
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Xiao: First Kiss HCs
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I’m so sorry it took me actually forever to reply to you. But I really hope you like this and it was somewhat worth the wait;; I tried really hard but ty for liking my Xiao content and yes! Let’s be absolute trash for Xiao. In this house we only believe in Xiao supremacy 💕💕
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Semi Part 1: Friendship
Semi Part 2: Falling in Love
Semi Part 3: Cuddles
Semi Part 4: Protective
Semi Part 5: Affection
Semi Part 6: Jealously
Semi Part 8: Opposites Attract
Semi Part 9:  String of Fate [Soulmate] HCs
Semi Part 10:  [ Fainting ]
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Childe Ver: First Kiss HCs
Venti & Kaeya: Mistletoe HCs
Venti, Xingqiu, and Razor: Kissing HCs
Considering how many more Xiao fics I need to write. This semi part link might not be a good idea lol. Also let’s ignore if I wrote in a kiss in a previous post haha.
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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.
@hanniejji​​  @mikeysbike​​ @unionwitch​​ @musekala​​ @twistedsunnshiii​​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​​ @xoneaboveallx​​ @adoring-ghost​​ @asheseiler​​ @childelover​​@youaskedfurret​​ @snowy224
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Xiao: First Kiss HCs
When you and Xiao first got together. It was a slow and steady process of learning each other boundaries and what felt comfortable. Xiao knew he was a difficult partner but you loved him and even becoming his friend was a slow and worthwhile adventure. It started off small leading from small handholding, to cuddling, to showing each other affection. But the one area that you both weren’t familiar in was kisses. He was an isolated adepti and you were an adventurer. You didn’t have any experience in being kissed and Xiao sure as hell didn’t either. Plus it was a lot more intimate and nerve wracking compared to holding hands and that was an hard hill to tackle in itself.
You didn’t mind that he wasn’t comfortable with initiating affection or never went in or talked about kisses. You were just happy that he was by your side and that your love was reciprocated. That he was comfortable in your presence and seemed content in your arms. It still made you a bit giddy when you reflected on how far you both came and that was enough for you. Xiao, on the other hand, couldn’t exactly say the same. While he was happy and he was content, he couldn’t help but feel that maybe your relationship was too one-sided? He knew that you were comfortable and okay with waiting for him to work out his issues and figuring out how to love again but he also really wanted to do more. He just wasn’t sure how to start.
It suddenly dawned on him one day when he saw you off on your next journey, that he had never really kissed you. Even a small goodbye kiss. It was usually you initiating affection or giving words of love and you always told him that it didn’t matter if he said it or not. His actions said more which always made him flush a bit. But on slow and quiet days where you were off on another adventure and Liyue was calm, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to you. To your face, your bright eyes that would light up whenever you talked about the interesting sights you saw on your journey, the curve of your nose whenever he tapped it when you started to ramble on to much, your lips and how they would spread into a soft smile when it was just the two of you.
Xiao quickly flipped himself up into a sitting position and groaned into his hands. What was happening to him? He needed to take a walk to clear his mind again. He’s been going out a lot since he met you. He had faced an army of demons and fought in a war and yet this felt like the hardest challenge of his entire thousand year long life. He could almost hear Guizhong’s laughter at his predicament and her words of wisdom saying to take whatever problem he had and face it head on. Just without his spear. The spear needs to stay home.
So the next time you visited Wangshu Inn he asked for you to close your eyes. You complied but you were surprised, sitting by the railing facing Liyue up on the balcony. Was he going to gift you something? This was the first time he asked you to close your eyes but you trusted him. You could almost feel the anxiety waving off Xiao so you kept quiet and patient and waited for him to be ready.
He was ready. He could do this. You weren’t even looking at him so what was there to be worried about? He slowly leaned in, just hovering above your lips. But then he leaned back a bit, flushing red. He nearly chewed his lip before stopping since you probably didn’t want to taste blood. It wasn’t that he wasn’t ready or he thought that you would hate it, he was just nervous in messing up. What if his accidently transformed? What if he accidently pushed you off the railing? Even worse, what if someone showed up and saw you both like this?
Turns out he didn’t need to worry. Somewhat. Zhongli, who Xiao knew now was actually Rex Lapis in disguise, made a sudden appearance behind him. The whiplash of suddenly seeing his Master, the nervous butterfly’s fluttering in his stomach, and pep talk Xiao was trying to pound into his mind made him suddenly lurch forward and kiss you deeply. A bit too deeply as his little fangs nipped at your bottom lip.
“Zhongli!?”
“Rex Lapis?!”
You both quickly broke apart as your eyes flew open when you heard the man but also surprise at the sudden but, not completely unpleasant, pain and pressure on your lips. You could almost see the soul leave Xiao’s body when he spun around to see the surprised Zhongli. It was silent for a moment, all three of you just staring at each other. You were still processing what the hell just happened, Xiao was trying to find a way to astral project, and Zhongli was computing the fact that yes, the ever grumpy and “don’t touch me” yaksha both had a lover and was in the middle of...courting.
“Oh. My apologies. I wasn’t aware you were both occupied. I shall take my leave and visit another day then.” Zhongli simply nodded and left before you or Xiao could say anything. You both stared at the empty figure of where Zhongli was before you started to burst into laughter at the situation. You really felt bad, you did honestly, but with all the overwhelming emotions you couldn’t help but laugh.
“I’m...sorry. I didn’t know he was going to visit today,” Xiao muttered as he pressed his hand into his face and groaned at the embarrassing moment. You could see the tips of his ears were getting redder by the second which made you chuckle. For such a fearsome Yaksha he was really cute sometimes.
“It’s okay Xiao. I don’t mind. But are you alright?” you stifled the last of your giggles and reached out to pull him closer and remove his hand from his red face before cupping his cheek. He huffed but leaned into your hand. He really was sometimes like a cat.
“Are you hurt? Was I...too forward?” Xiao asked but he still wouldn’t look you in the eye. The floor was very interesting this afternoon. Wood was nice. Wood was good.
“No! It was...nice,” you answered, starting to go a bit pink yourself now before you felt a stinging pain in the corner of your lip, “Ah. I think you might accidently bit my lip though.”
“I see,” Xiao was now looking at you with his piercing eyes as he watched your small pink tongue brush over the corner of your bottom lip. His attention began to focus on that small part as the world seem to narrow down. Just the two of you. But unlike when you both would lie on top of the inn and watch the sun go down he felt hungry.
“Do you-”
Before you could ask anything Xiao suddenly pounced and pressed his lips against yours in a heated kiss. He took you by surprise but you quickly recovered as you gripped the purple ribbon on his back and yanked him forward as his hands slammed against the railing, trapping you. You felt his tongue press against your lips as you slowly opened them to let him in. It was overwhelming and you were sure if you hadn’t been grabbing onto the purple ribbon you would have fell over but then a sudden deep rumble snapped you out of your trance.
“Xiao? Are you...Are you purring?” you giggled when you got a tiny but of separation from the lack of air but he frowned at you, really it looked more like a pout, before leaning over once again.  Just barely brushing over your lips as he whispered
“Meow”
---
This isn’t even OOC anymore. I feel like I’m writing a fucking k-drama right now, what am I doing anymore? English? Huh? I do not compute.
I’ve just awakened something in me with Cat! Xiao and I am flying with it (and casually ignoring lore. Isn’t he a bird?). Heading straight for the stratosphere and you cannot stop me. Just gonna hide away in shame now don’t look at me.
Okay. Time to commit sleep for uh 2 hours lol. I’m really tired but I feel kinda proud of myself haha. Tomorrow’s fics are going to be Venti, Lisa and Diluc pairing, and Venti and Barbara pairing. Good night!
Oh, and yes there is a lot more Xiao content to come and uhh might continue this cat!xiao idea. Unless that’s too weird. I’m sorry don’t shame me pls 😰
my god tumble just work. i dont want to deal with you and your tags. 
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