#probably the price he pays for taking all these hats on and off

[imaginepostingonmain]

COWBOY JIMMY COWBOY JIMMY COWBOY JIMMY COWBOY JIMMY

"I'm not...the greatest fan'o horses. Cannae stand em, really. Feckin great beasties, tramplin' everywhere... naaaaee thank ye. I'll stick with jus' bein' Finance Jimmy fer now."

[dangermousie]

I genuinely started screaming at this scene. Because JW gave info about bribes to the reporter right before confirmation hearing for his father which was nuts enough but unsurprisingly daddy was able to weasel out of it. And then this happens:

Look at Ju Won's face. He's bracing himself. He knows. HE KNOWS!!!!

This is a man who was expecting it. And not just because of his conscience or w/e, because I 100% bet he planned it. The thing is, it's an objectively an insane thing to do. Running your own unauthorized sting operation during which the mole dies because she comes across a serial killer and which you have by now reported to the proper police auditing authority is not something for which one needs to be arrested during a freaking confirmation hearing for one's father. It's highly unlikely to even be an offense from which you will be dismissed from the force let alone jailed. And both he and Dong Sik have to know this - so it has to be part of some sort of plan. (And also the thing is, Ju Won genuinely believes he should be punished and he's asked for punishment during the audit and got none because nobody wanted to piss off his father. I am sure at least some of this for Ju Won is driven not just by desire to crack the case about DS' sister but by his desire to be punished and if they won't do so otherwise, he will force the issue.)

The way he raises his cuffed hands when asked if he remembers LGH? I love that so much! Ju Won's belief in taking responsibility - not just by others but by himself - is probably the best thing about him. He is my favorite character in a drama full of great characters because he's such an absolutist idealist who applies his insane standards not just to others but to himself whatever the cost. He's a zealot and he's willing to immolate himself for what he thinks is just and I just love love love that in a character. (I mentioned before that he made me think of CWN in 2ha in insistence the same rules and punishment apply to him as to others; even if everyone else knows this is supposed to be only on paper he refuses to live in that reality. And the penalty for violating the law would not stop him from doing what he thinks is needed, but he will also insist on punishment. He believes that it's fair to pay the price for what one's done and it's worth it. He's whatever the opposite of a shirker is and I love that.)

Look at the looks on their faces. This was totally planned by them both or I will eat my nonexistent hat.

I think this is what draws DS to JW btw - he has been surrounded by people who shied away from facing their wrongdoings or the wrongdoings of their loved ones, who tried to hide them or forget them or ignore them - that even includes the Chief let alone everyone else - and then here is Ju Won who comes in as an awkward by the book martinet with seemingly unrealistic standards and HE LIVES UP TO THEM and keeps living up to them in insane circumstances. He will never hide or ignore or try to justify anything of his or his close ones. This is one person DS can always be certain of in that regard. The rest of the characters all have some sort of lever than can be found if one pushes hard enough to make them deviate; but not Ju Won. Because to deviate would be to destroy the basis of his self. It would never be worth it to him because he would not be able to live with it; the pain of whatever happens if he adheres to his code is immaterial compared to the destruction of him at his base that would happen if he failed to adhere.

[bakvrue]

ryusui x reader

my first time writing for him and dr stone, a cute little piece of fluff, beginnings of romance

Mid afternoon sun shines through the canopy above as you walk back to your village. Your morning was spent aboard a ship of science for a small excursion: the open sea, whale watching, geography mapping, technology you never thought you would see again, and a man who you can't seem to take your eyes off of.

Even now as he and Senku converse ahead of you your eyes are glued to him. Ryusui is magnetic, drawing everything and everyone to him, even if they don't want to be there. But you? You wish you could be with him all the time.

The way he smiles, the way he cares about others, the way he puts his plans into action to get what he wants, the way he…

“Hello?” Your doctor friend walking beside you waves her hand in front of your face, “You listening?” She knows full well you were not.

You tear your gaze away from the blonde and look over at her and your other friend, the village's agricultural master. Both of their eyebrows are raised, their eyes pointing between you and Ryusui.

You know they saw what happened aboard the ship. Ryusui and you got closer and closer throughout the day until his hand made itself comfortable on the small of your back. They could probably see your heart beating out of your chest.

“We’re talking about dinner—”

“Are you joining us?”

“Or did you make other plans?”

The way they finish each other's sentences makes you feel like you're being circled by snakes.

Ever the opportunist, you speak a little louder, “Oh, I hadn't made any dinner plans yet.”

The blonde captain turns his head a quarter before looking back straight ahead and a rush goes through you, whatever jumping for joy looks like, you could probably do that right now.

Your friends shake their heads, if it was just the three of you you would bring up the men that have had their hearts fluttering recently, but with Tsukasa just a few people behind you and Senku in front of you, you choose peace.

Just before the village comes into view you bound up next to Ryusui and you don't notice Senku taking a few steps back to give you the semblance of privacy.

You reach your hand up, half jumping to pluck the captain's hat right off his head. You've heard a few stories about this specific hat; thrown off into a storm to gauge wind currents. The hat came back to him and maybe some of that luck can rub off on you.

It's too big and a little damp but you plop it on your head, laughing as it falls over your eyes.

The electric feeling in your chest, it feels like you're back in high school flirting with the boy you liked.

He lifts the hat slightly, adjusting it on your head so that you can see. Your cheeks warm from his attention as you thank him.

“That hat isn't free, you know.” His smirk sends butterflies to your stomach.

“Everything has a price. Yes, yes, I know.”

There's a twinkle in your eye as you put your hands behind your back and look up at him. A mistake.

The sun shines on his blond hair, his brown eyes are as bright as you've ever seen them. His irises swimming with something akin to desire.

Your foot snags on a hidden root and you start to fall forward until his hands grab you, steadying you on your feet.

You hear snickering behind you and whip your head around to find your friends and Senku looking anywhere but you, whistling and admiring the canopy.

“Pay me in your time.” You look back at him with your mouth partially opened, and he laughs. “The price for the hat. Dinner tonight.”

You right yourself, his arms no longer supporting you and you immediately miss their warmth.

“Dinner tonight,” you nod, “but I'm keeping the hat until then.”

“It looks better on you anyways.”

You reach the edge of the village and Ryusui follows Senku towards the science sector while you make your way back to the medical barn with your friends.

“Don't say a word,” you warn while they immediately burst out in laughter, and you end up laughing with them. Tripping into your crushes arms is hilarious, but now you have a date to get ready for.

[esamastation]

Part thirty-two of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one

-

The first few hours in the forward camp go by quickly, for Angeal. Mostly in putting down brushfires and smoothing down ruffled feathers.

"That was Sephiroth, right - Sephiroth is in our camp!"

"Where is he then? I want to meet him!"

"Think he would shake my hand?"

"Does anyone have a camera - I want to send a picture to my Ma!"

Most of the troopers are excited - and they have every reason to be. More SOLDIER means less dangerous work for them while the SOLDIER members take care of the more dangerous missions.

But you can't please everyone.

"Well?" the infantry Colonel in charge of the town demands when Angeal presents himself to the man. "Isn't he even going to come to introduce himself?"

"I'm very sorry, sir," Angeal says awkwardly, with the Turks' warnings still in his ear. No one is to know that Sephiroth isn't at hundred percent right now. And Angeal agreed. "It was a very busy time in Midgar just before we left, and the plane wasn't exactly comfortable - he's resting before we start tackling missions tomorrow."

"Couldn't he sleep on the plane? Isn't he supposed to be a veteran - doesn't he know you're supposed to catch all the sleep you can get, when you can get it?" The Colonel huffs, offended and superior. He's an older man, in his fifties, and though Angeal doesn't know him, he recognizes the type. 

A lot of older military types didn't really… believe that SOLDIERs were worth the hype.

"What if we were in an emergency situation here and the camp was under attack?" The Colonel asks. "Would he have sauntered off then, just willy-nilly?" 

"I'm sure in that case Sephiroth would've fought, but as that wasn't the case," Angeal says slowly, "I'm sorry sir, in favour of the missions ahead, he's getting all the rest he can, now."

It takes more than that to placate the camp commander, and Sephiroth would need to present himself first thing in the morning, but at least Angeal manages to keep people from trying to bother Sephiroth. Who… really didn't look too good, before.

Angeal had got him two folding screens and a table from the loot storage - he'd even found a nice tea set, and some tea in a tin  - and if he didn't know better, he would've said Sephiroth almost… cried.

He's never seen the man look so lost.

Which sends him here, to the mess hall set up by the infantry in one of the larger buildings of the town. It's impossible to miss, and he had to wonder how the pompous Colonel didn't claim the building for the command - it's easily the grandest in the village, with spacious interiors and the inner courtyard with a mossy garden.

All the plastic folding tables probably would have made Sephiroth sick, though.

Angeal approaches the field kitchen with his proverbial hat in hand, asking, "Hey, do you have any chocolate here?"

"We do - for a price," the cook says, apologetically. "Sorry, sir, it's protocol - the company provides you grub and meds, but all luxury goods are Gil only."

And the prices are, of course, through the roof.

"... And if it's for Sephiroth?" Angeal asks hopefully, because the poor kid in him can't stomach paying fifty Gil for a candy bar.

The cook hesitates and then narrows his eyes. "... Sephiroth eats chocolate?"

"It's his favourite," Angeal lies shamelessly.

There's a moment of painful hesitation between protocol and idol worship. "... Fine, but just this once, okay?" the cook mutters and quickly shoves two bars towards him. "I can get away marking these out as damaged in transit, but after that they'll start taking it out of my pay! And don't go spreading this around either, sir, or else everyone will be begging for charity!"

"I won't tell a soul," Angeal promises and adds two chocolate bars to his tray. "Thank you so much."

He fills the tray with enough food for him and Sephiroth and offers an apologetic smile to the group of SOLDIER Seconds before heading out.

He doesn't quite make it to his and Sephiroth's quarters.

"So, the big guy is not doing so hot, after all."

It's Reno, accosting him along the way, lounging back against a bit of painted wall. He's not quite hidden - except that coming from the direction he did, Angeal couldn't see him.

"Mood seems to go up and down; he's practically swinging from side to side, that man," Reno continues, watching the street idly. "You got it handled?"

Angeal stops and takes a steadying breath, staring down the street. It's getting late and dark, and the green-tinted electrical lights by the Shinra troops clash with the red paint of the buildings. "Sephiroth is meditating."

"Yeah, because that's totally something he does," the Turk snorts, folding his arms. "I've read his file, man. A homebody he is not. If this was your usual mission, he'd already be out there, fighting."

Angeal hesitates, looking down at the tray. "He's going to be fine," he says. "Now excuse me, the food will get cold -"

"Hey, man, I'm on your side here," the Turk says. "I'm just asking. We just want the best for him!"

Sure. "The Turks are very invested in this," Angeal comments pointedly and gives the redhead a look. They are - hell, they'd sent not just one, but two Turks to the front lines! That's more than investment.

The camp had been excited to see Sephiroth and Angeal there - they'd been less excited to find out that they came with Turk company. Turks don't generally take part in anything to do with Wutai, the war front isn't exactly their area of expertise, and that's how the military likes it. Though they're technically all part of the same department, there's no love lost there. The Turks very much aren't welcome.

That's probably why Reno is here - in the shadows, out of view. The Turks hadn't been seen much since their landing, really. And probably for a good reason.

"We're invested in damage control," Reno says, peering up at the sky lazily, leaning against the wall with all the grace of a cat. "Whatever's going on with Sephiroth isn't normal, and it's in the company's best interest that it doesn't come to head in Midgar."

"Right. Far better if he loses his cool here," Angeal mutters, watching as a curious firefly investigates a flood light. "Less collateral damage."

"That's it," Reno agrees lazily. "Personally, I'd prefer that whatever is going on with him is resolved quickly, so that we can all go home. But we will be here as long as it takes. As long as he needs."

Great, that's just wonderful. But… that also means that they're not in a hurry. Even the dozen or so missions pressing in on them aren't that high priority. They don't have the forces or the resources to make another try at Fort Tamblin, and most of the fighting out there has been fought into a standstill.

The war is essentially in a stalemate until further notice. The point of Sephiroth being here - before his incident, anyway - is more about morale than anything else. It always looks good when they send in the big guns, after all.

"As long as he needs," Angeal repeats. "Really?"

"The President approved it and everything," Reno agrees and looks at him. "Whatever Sephiroth needs."

Well. He knows that's probably bullshit, but in case it isn't… "Sephiroth needs time," Angeal says after a while, following the firefly with his eyes as it flies away. "And I think more than anything he needs privacy."

Reno narrows his eyes. Then his expression clears. "Alright, privacy we can arrange," he says flippantly. "Never much cared for military camps anyway. Right then. Good night, Hewley."

Angeal watches him go suspiciously, but it appears that was that. "Right," he mutters and hopes it wouldn't come back to bite them in the ass later.

Shaking his head, he returns to the house, to find that Sephiroth had finished rearranging the furniture to his liking - he's also made tea, and is holding a steaming cup in his hand as he stares into nothing.

His hands, Angeal notes with relief, are no longer shaking.

"Here, food," he calls. "Also found you something special."

Sephiroth blinks and looks up as Angeal puts the tray down, handing him both of the chocolate bars. "Oh," he says. He looks guilty. "Angeal, I…"

"Special gift from the commissary, free of charge - next one we will have to pay for, and they charge through the nose here," Angeal says cheerfully and sits across from him, divvying up the plates and utensils. "So you better enjoy it."

"... I will. Thank you," Sephiroth murmurs, closing his long fingers delicately over the treat.

"Good. Now come on, let's eat," Angeal says, pushing the plates closer to him. "We have a lot of work tomorrow. Better stock up."

"... Monster hunting, right?"

"Yes," Angeal agrees. "Just you and me and a bunch of wild beasts. It should be great."

Sephiroth looks at him for a long moment and then, finally, nods slowly. "Alright."

They eat, and the tightly wound coil of anxiety in Angeal's gut unwinds, if only a little.

[daisygirlwrites]

Could you be able to do a headcanon of a video game night with the 141, I keep thinking about that headcanon in the third part of the ghost headcanon

Game Night Headcanons (Task Force 141 + afab!Reader)

note: König and Horangi appear, no use of (Y/N)

a/n: hey hey, this was really fun to write and there might be a second part to this. also this is a little shorter than normal, sorry about that. anyways, thank you all so much for reading!

taglist: @bobfloydsgf , @warenai , @devilsfoodcake22 , @itsscromp , @dilfsaremyfavourite, @imalovernotahater , @cutiecusp , @allen-444

gif credit: @pedrokkstuff

The typical 141 game night, more often than not, leads to a fist fight at some point

As well as name calling, accusations, threats and sometimes, crying. Last part is done by Crash most times

It wasn’t like this before. Game night was more relaxed. There was usually multiple systems and even board games going at once

That is until Soap suggested Mario Kart. He was whining on about how he wanted the group to play together, even for one round

You and the others give into his insistent whining. However, Price used his ‘old man’ card to get out of playing and agreed to watch from the sidelines.

It took a while to convince Ghost to join, Soap literally begging on his hands and knees. But it was you that ultimately got him to play, by taunting him. There is still a rivalry going on between you two though it’s become friendly in recent times. 

Your taunting worked, calling him an old man to his face and that he’s probably embarrassed to play because it’s the one thing he’s bad at. The thing that pissed him off most was you told him that he’s a ‘has-been’ 

He stares at you as you give him a smug grin back. Ghost opens his hand towards Soap, not breaking eye contact with you, he says one word, “Controller.” Johnny lets out a little “whoo!” and places a switch controller onto his hand

Ghost would either main Shy Guy, Dry Bones or Dry Bowser for obvious reasons

Soap plays Bowser or Bowser Jr. He mentions something about having a similar hairstyle as them. (Bonus points if he’s matching with Ghost)

Gaz plays as Toad because the little screams Toad makes is low key funny

Crash usually plays as Isabelle but whenever Ghost joins, she switches to King Boo

First game, Crash wins with Ghost coming close at second place. Lowkey, Crash got real nervous during the last lap since Ghost was in the lead but with the magic called button smashing, she kept blue-shelling him.

Second game, Ghost absolutely demolished everyone, paying close attention to you. 

You, being a sore loser, calls him out for cheating and demand a rematch

To everyone’s surprise, he does. And round after round, he beats everyone

Gaz was speechless, Soap looks at the Lieutenant with awe and it took everything in you to not bitch slap Ghost

The little argument becomes a little bit too intense which turns into a yelling match

Crash : “Bitch do you want me to jump across this table because I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY FOR THIS, OKAY?!” Ghost, with a shit eating grin under his mask : “You feeling froggy? Leap.” Crash, rolling up her sleeves : “Okay, well here I come."

Price, who was napping on the lazy chair while they played, woke up to a scuffle. Lifting up his hat, he takes in the scene in front of him:

You were very animated, talking with your hands as you argue with the Lieutenant. Ghost has his hands on his hips, back straightened as he looks down at you.

Soap was in-between you and Ghost, hand on the latter's chest and the other on your shoulder, keeping distance from each other. He looked a little nervous, being literally in the middle of Ghost and essentially, a mini Ghost. "Hey, let's talk this out first, no need for fightin'!"

Gaz had a hand on your other shoulder, trying to pull you away. He would lift you up, and he can, but he doesn't want to get his ass beat by someone who's five foot four

Price, after watching them for a couple minutes, finally steps in.

Had to use the 'dad voice' on everyone

That weeks game night ends there

The next one though, basically the same thing happens. Only difference is that you guys were playing Super Smash Bros.

Ghost would either play Dark Samus, Sheik, Cloud or Snake

Soap plays Bowser, Roy or Ryu

Gaz usually plays as Lucario or Ness, but sometimes switches to Marth

Crash mains Kirby, however she does have a soft spot for all of the cute game mascots (especially Pikachu)

Same thing happens, Ghost beats everyone and you start an argument because "No one his age knows how to play."

"For God's sake, Crash, I'm twenty-nine!" "Pretty fuckin' old to me." "We're six years apart, Tiny."

You low key hated that nickname. It was a reminder to you that everyone else was six foot and taller.

With no hesitation, you jump towards him

Thankfully, this time Price is awake and grabs you just in time

He holds you back as you shout "These hands are rated E for Everyone"

After that, game night was cancelled for a while, for oblivious reasons

That is until the KorTac team joins them. Game night is brought back since it's good for 'team bonding'

It's mostly König and Horangi that hangs out with them, with Hutch occasionally coming by

All of them are really good at Mario Kart and Super Smash Bros.

It was kind of embarrassing for the 141 to get beat against the new guys

Everyone was nice at first but as game nights continue, König lets out a snide comment

"Thought you guys are the best of the best. Guess you're not good at everything."

As much as you liked König, you were not gonna let that slide. Same with Ghost

Both of you form a truce and team up together

As you were on the field, both of you are a deadly combination

Unsurprisingly, you win. But learning from previous mistakes, you behave yourself.

König and Horangi lose gracefully, telling you "GG" and even apologizing for the comment he made earlier

Price gives a sigh of relief, not wanting to break up a fight, especially since one of them is almost seven feet tall

Other games the team plays:

Halo (specifically the first three). Ghost doesn't say but he low key relates to Master Chief. Soap likes it because there's a pretty lady that talks to him

Mario Party. Price has to supervise

Mortal Kombat and Street Fighter. Everyone is surprisingly chill when they play those two. Just something about Super Smash Bros that gets they hyped up

Untitled Goose Game and Goat Simulator. It's mostly you and Gaz playing. Funny games that makes you forget about the world for a few hours

The team also plays card and board games as well but that's for another time

[blackmoonowl]

prompt 27 with rj?

"Move away from the door and let me at him!"

Robert Joseph MacCready x reader

Summary: Jealous MacCready with some slight suggestive comments at the end.

1407 words

This was supposed to be a fun night out to celebrate a job well done, it had been his idea after all. But now MacCready's blood felt like it was about to boil. His fingers curled around the glass as a scowl appeared from under his hat. He knew Goodneighbor was a dump full of sleazebags, he wasn't exactly a saint himself. But this guy really should know better than to hit on someone taken.

The subject of MacCready’s anger was seated close to you, cigarette smoke coming out of his mouth. The mercenary had half a mind to just stand up and deck him in the face, but he didn't want to the two of you getting kicked out of his favourite bar. The random guy was clearly interested in you. MacCready couldn't blame them, you were a knockout with an even better personality.

But you were all his. The person he trusted most, someone who he'd give anyone for, someone who he wanted to introduce to his young son.

"Look, pal. You're killing the mood," MacCready finally spoke up, getting the other man’s attention. "Why don't you just leave, this ones taken."

"Who says you have to be the only one?" The drunken Goodneighbor resident responded. Whitechapel Charlie briefly stopped polishing a glass, listening in on the conversation before he continued his business.

MacCready's expression turned into a scowl. His hands clenched into fists. Your eyes flickered between the two men. You knew you probably had to step in soon, knowing your lovers temper.

"The hell do you mean?" MacCready's voice rose, stepping from his seat. He already didn't have the most patience, and the alcohol was making him even angrier. "Are you stupid, or are you just lookin' for a fight?"

"Scrawny kid like you thinks he can take me, huh? You sure you want me to beat you in front of your date?" The taller man mocked, towering over the mercenary in an attempt of intimidation. MacCready opened his mouth to continue arguing when your hand met his shoulder.

"Come on," you quietly urged. "He's not worth it, let's just go. I had enough of this." He felt your attempts at tugging him along, wishing to just leave the conflict behind, and to find a place to crash for the night.

But Robert didn't like that one bit. He didn't want to walk off with his tail tucked between his legs like some sort of coward. Some guy just hit on his other half, and he wasn't gonna let that one slide.

"Hold on, I wasn't finished," the young man hissed, pulling himself loose. By now most of the other residents had turned their heads to look at the commotion. None seemed too eager to intervene, watching as if it were entertainment. Likely a mixture between the mentality of the settlement, coupled with MacCready's reputation.

"Yeah? You're not exactly smart, kid." The man’s dark brown eyes bored into his own. "You lookin' to leave with a bullet in your skull?"

"Not if I lodge one in yours first. I don't think you know what you're dealin' with here. Now piss off before I make you," MacCready got right up in his newfound rival’s face, practically seeing red with anger.

"If the two of you are looking to catch a body, don't do it here. I don't want Ham or the mayor on my case. I also don't want to be the one scrubbing blood off the floor." The gruff voice of Charlie called out, setting a glass down.

The two men reluctantly backed off from each other, not before sending each other one final death glare. MacCready would have loved to pull out his hunting rifle and prove a point, but he didn't want either of you to pay the price for that. The crowd seemed disappointed by the anti climactic ending, going back to their drinks and banter.

"He's right, come on," you urged, gently grabbing MacCready by the duster. "Let's get you to cool off."

Your partner grumbled, though was quickly convinced by a kiss to the cheek. He let you lead him out, his hat shadowing his eyes. The two of you silently ascended the stairs, nodding at Ham and walking through the front door. The young man had just begun to calm down when a voice called out.

"Wasn't done talking." The man stood in the doorway, slurring his words even more, a bottle held in his hand. You held back a deep sigh of irritation as you felt Robert's body tense beside you. Members of the Neighborhood watch were already eyeing the scene, hands held tight on their guns.

"Robert-" you tried to argue, but he shook his head. He had held himself back for your sake, but he was done now.

"What the fu-.. what the actual hell is your problem? You got a lot of nerve trying to drag this out," MacCready growled, his hand finally grabbing onto the familiar smooth material of his rifle. He may not kill the guy, but he was gonna need to seek out Doc Crocker after this merc was done with him.

"The fuck you say to me?" The drunkard growled, straightening. "I oughta pluck your remaining teeth out for that tone." That jab was the long overdue final straw, as far as he was concerned. He flipped his gun, aiming to strike the other man with the back of it.

"Try it, I'll make sure you'll never see straight again." MacCready took a step forward to charge at him. Fortunately, you were fast enough to block his way, managing to step in between the two. MacCready was able to stop himself in time before he accidentally struck you. You could practically feel the head radiate off of the former mayor as he yelled.

"Get out of my damn way, he's askin' for it!" His voice cut through the already rowdy night.

"No, we can just leave, I already told you this isn't worth it. Let's just head to hotel Rexford and we can just sleep it off." He shook his head, his rotten teeth gritted as he grabbed your shoulder.

"Move away from the door and let me at him!"

He demanded. The drunkard looked smug, having riled the duster wearing mercenary up. To your fortunate, Ham soon had his hand in the neck of the Drunkard, dragging him inside. The Neighborhood watched kept a close eye on the scene, still ready to put a bullet into anyone causing a ruckus. You knew better than letting MacCready do as he pleased. Best case scenario you had to explain yourself to Hancock, worst case scenario you'd both be in a ditch.

You took his hand, pulling him to the hotel Rexford. MacCready was still in a worse mood than usual, glancing over his shoulder at the bar with a sour expression. His ego was wounded and he was offended both for himself and you.

"Dammit," he grumbled as he leaned closer to you as you opened the door to the hotel. "Should've let me teach that idiot a lesson. Why didn't you let me cave his face in? Nobody was gonna care! Now he got away and we look weak." MacCready snapped at you, causing you to huff at him.

"I'm assuming you want to stay on Hancock and Whitechapel Charlie's good side, if you want to keep drinking at the Third rail," you reminded him, causing him to back down.

"You know what? Fine, but if I ever catch him again, he's gonna wish he never crossed us," he grumbled.

"No doubt about that," you sighed, tossing caps on the counter in exchange for a key. Pursing your lips, you watched his scowl for a moment before smiling.

"But I think I know a few ways to make you feel better," you hinted, causing him to nearly choke on air. Clair shot the two of you a disapproving look, but you couldn't bring yourself to care as you pulled your boyfriend along.

"Damn straight you will," MacCready grumbled as his grip on your hand got a little tighter, a small grin appearing on his face. "You got a lot to make up for." You decided not to argue, lightly huffing at him. At least it seemed his murderous intent was quelled for tonight. Though judging by the look on his face, that probably didn't mean you'd rest easy tonight.

[genshin-scenarios]

Reunion: Truths [Part 4]

Read the first series (Adopt a Wanderer) here! An AU where Scaramouche/Wanderer gets isekaied to your world - a found-family series.

Summary: Forced into a hard spot, the truth starts to trickle out.

Warnings: contains spoilers of Wanderer’s story in the archon quest!

Part 3 <-

Suffice to say, you’re more than a little tense when Wanderer leads you through Sumeru city, asking little questions here and there along the way.

You answer them the best you can - about what you like doing to pass the time, if you find Sumeru’s weather to be comfortable… But the moment you reach the Grand Bazaar, you’re blatantly reminded of the complications that might happen if the Traveler did walk in at this moment, midway through the quest that would change the current Wanderer’s life.

“Actually, I’m feeling kind of tired after all of that exploring.” You say, subtly walking to a spot furthest away from the merchant stalls. You linger next to the stage where Nilou often performs. “Maybe we can head back now?”

Wanderer gives you a confused look. “But didn’t we come here to get supplies? This would be the last stop.”

Yeah... I probably seem weird right now. “We’ve already gotten enough things, haven’t we?”

“Don’t you need vegetables? If you’re worried about the price, it shouldn’t cost too much here compared to the shops outside.”

And now he thinks you’re mora-less.

There’s a beat of silence, then another, before you finally shove aside your encroaching paranoia and abandon the Zubayr Theater for the merchants lined along the street. Shoulders squared, you can only hope the Traveler doesn’t magically appear.

“It’s nothing to be intimidated by.” Wanderer tries to reassure you, glancing at the merchant he’s acquainted with as you both reach the stall. The owner’s eyes light up in recognition.

“It’s you!”

“It’s been a while.” Wanderer tips his hat in greeting, before gesturing to you. “My friend is here for some supplies.”

“Um… Could I just get some potatoes, cabbage…” You list the rest of the ingredients you’re looking for. While this isn't a grocery store, the merchant was quick to fish out an impressive amount of items from the boxes around his stall. “Ah, but if you don’t have some of them, then don’t worry about it!”

“How can I do that when it’s this helper that’s brought you here?” The merchant shakes his head, exasperation on his face. "He did so much labor and then refused to accept payment for his work. What are people going to say about me if they found out?"

"Like I said before, it's not a big deal." Wanderer smiles. "If you'd like… I'd appreciate it if my friend got a discount. That can pay off my salary, right?"

With a hum, the merchant finally hands you your packaged bag of groceries. "It's on the house."

"What?!"

You open your mouth to convince him otherwise, but the merchant waves his hand to interject.

"It's less than all the carrying and errands he's done, so don't worry about it."

"But…"

"Say, what's your relationship with this helper anyways?" He muses, glancing between you two. "Traveling companions?"

"Not exac—"

"You could say that." Wanderer answers.

Forcing a smile to hide your increasing stupefaction, you take a step back. "Well then… We should probably get going now."

"Oh? Yes, my companion here was getting tired. See you next time, Boss."

As soon as you exited the Grand Bazaar, you reel around to question Wanderer, only to falter at his unusual change in demeanor. Arms crossed, eyebrows raised, and none of his innocently-kind tone to speak of.

"So, how long were you planning to pretend we've never met before?"

That haughty voice, deadpan, with just a hint of arrogance…

What?

"Y–You…" You take a step away in shock. "What?"

I thought he was—

"It takes a liar to recognize another, or something like that?" He drawls, before sighing and letting the venom seep out of him. "I started to have dreams of the past a few weeks ago. Recognized you - you can figure out the rest."

Wanderer at least has the decency to let you process this information, leaning against the wall as your head started to hurt. He watches you with an unreadable look in his eyes, shielding something away.

So he knew from the start? He remembers everything?

What if he's angry about you keeping your knowledge about him a secret, back when he was in your world? What if he wants nothing to do with you? What if he’s about to tell you he—

"K… Wanderer." You can feel your face burning, an uncomfortably raw heat creeping up your ears. You didn't dare meet his eyes. "...Please don't be mad."

Please don't say you hate me.

You're looking down at the ground. As you feel a shadow reaching towards you, you shut your eyes and brace yourself for whatever’s about to come.

Only to feel something on the top of your head; Wanderer lightly hits you with his closed fist, more of an exasperated bump than something that really hurt. 

"...Idiot." He finally says. "If I was that mad, I'd be long gone by now. Or tried to feed you to the tigers."

You take a moment to process his words. "...So you're not going to throw me off a building, or anything like that?"

His hand leaves your head, propping against his hip instead. "Not unless you give me a reason to. Aren't you tired of standing around the street?"

Right, you were still outside of the Grand Bazaar. "The free groceries…?"

"You're broke, aren't you?"

You almost choke on the air. "No! I have money."

"Did you steal it?"

Jaw dropping, you finally straighten yourself to face Wanderer and defend your honor. "For your information, I traded in my stuff for it! Like my bag!"

"Should've just stolen a purse." He shrugs, leading the way out of the city and back to your abode. "If someone looks rich enough, it probably wouldn't be that big of a loss."

"You taught you that?" You pinch your nose, rescinding. "Nevermind, just don't say it was me."

You don't notice, but the corner of his mouth tugs upwards. "I'm right, though."

"I'd rather not get arrested for attempts at theft." You trail off, glancing at Wanderer. "So… how long has it been since you got back your memories from Irminsul?"

So you did know everything. A part of him is glad to have his theories confirmed; not only did you know of him when he'd been transported to your world, but you seemed to be aware of other details about Teyvat as well. 

"Around two months." Now it's his turn. "Did you remember me after I went back to Inazuma?"

"No.” You only recovered your memories after arriving in Teyvat. “Did you?"

"...No. Aren't your feet aching? I'm not carrying you back."

"I do exercise back home, you know!" You exclaim, offended that he's convinced your previous lifestyle doesn’t match with that of an adventurer's. Which might be true. But still!

Wanderer hums. "By Teyvat's standards, you're pretty old though. Can’t blame the elderly for having weak knees."

This guy?! "Not that much time has passed in my world." You cross your arms, giving Wanderer an unimpressed look. "You're the senior citizen here."

"How childish."

"You started it. Whoa—!"

The bridge you'd been crossing had a gap between its boards, causing your foot to catch on it and send you flying. If it wasn't for Wanderer's quick reflexes grabbing your arm, you might've fallen down the side and crashed down into the forest miles below. 

A spike of fear raced through you, heart thumping as you clutched your bag of groceries to your chest. With your free hand, you shakily take a hold of Wanderer’s wrist in an attempt to pull yourself back up, only to hear him sigh and tell you to hold still.

A strong gust of wind conjures itself beneath the both of you, and Wanderer picks you up in his arms to fly the rest of the way over the bridge. 

It's over before you can count to five. As his feet touch the ground, you finally have the courage to look down again. 

"You're terrible at staying away from trouble." He mutters, directed more to himself than for you to hear.

I never saw you as trouble. You wanted to say.

"...I'm glad to have met you again, Wanderer." Beneath the weight of all that’s happened today, a sense of relief lightens your shoulders. 

"You'd be the first one to say that." He scoffs, letting you down. "And it's Kuni."

You blink. "The Traveler named you that?"

He gives you a weird look. "No, they went with 'Wanderer'. Kuni is the name I’m calling myself."

Ah, so…

You try your best to suppress your smile, lest he jabs at you in retaliation. "I'll make sure to remember that, Kuni. It’s nice to be able to say that name again."

A huff in reply. He leads the way back to your abode, walking in front so you wouldn’t see his expression.

Why were you so happy about it? It’s him that’s reclaiming his name. If anything, it feels strange to hear it coming from your lips after all this time.

Though… Call him over-critical, but Kuni doesn’t know how to feel about having you close by again, when neither of you can be sure of how long this reunion would last.

.

.

.

-> Part 5

[illarian-rambling]

Thank you @whatwewrotepodcast @willtheweaver @tildeathiwillwrite and @elsie-writes for the tags! I always put this game off because it takes me a while, so they've kinda built up. Therefore, prepare yourself for the mother of all word tags

Find the Word Tag (Procrastinator Edition)

My words are: cut, scream, villain, blue, stream, error, crown, ash, smile, solo, beat, bring, stun, scuttle, shimmer, slave

Your words are: loan, contract, camp, command

I'm putting my faith in Honor's Outcasts book 1 for this

.

She was just putting the finishing touches on a shipment of enchanted diadems from Skysheer, weaving wards around the valuable cargo like a mother bird weaves a nest. Magic and energy flowed like thread from her dancing fingers, which were stained a washed-out umber in the wavering light of her old lantern. With a flourish, the girl cut the connection, finishing the spell and ensuring that anyone attempting to steal the prize within those cedar walls would have a nasty price to pay.

.

As the color deepened into a dark, bloody purple, a scream poured from the man's jaws. His flesh blackened and cracked under the baleful light as he clawed at his skin in vain. It was like the sparks were devouring him. Like he was made of paper instead of meat.

.

Twenari sighed, moving over to plop down onto their raggedy little settee. It wasn't like an argument was uncommon for the pair. Hell, she'd heard them argue over the color of a woman's hat once. A woman, she might add, who'd been standing right next to them in a bank queue, and whose blushing face had perfectly complimented her obviously blue hat.

.

Oh sure, from a distance it was all quite beautiful: the burbling stream, the heavy-boughed mangroves, the whispering reeds. But standing there - mosquitoes crawling up and down his legs, sweat prickling his scalp, skin itching where it had burnt in the sun days before - it all seemed a mundane little hell made just for him.

.

Izjik felt a sting in her side. Felt the pounding pressure in her skull. The sting grew into an ache, then a burning, then an agony. Looking down, she found the Sovereign’s offhand clutching the broken base of one of the spines that had made up her crown. The point, of course, was embedded in Izjik’s ribs.

.

"Come on, you heavy fuck!" Djek groaned as he pulled Sepo around a corner. His eyes streamed with ash and terror, turning the already blurry world into one big smear of orange light.

The suffocating heat was making his hands sweat, so Djek was forced to dig bloody grooves into Sepo’s wrist as he clung on by his nails alone. Blood still poured from the man's mouth, leaving a bubbling maroon trail behind them.

.

The woman leaned in towards her victim, her doll-faced smile still held in place. "Would you like to know why I really call Twenari my blessing?"

The man gave a small nod as Twenari released his neck muscles. Evidently, he was of the 'just agree to the demands and you'll be fine' school of thought.

Undeta gave a throaty, animal chuckle.

"Wrong answer."

.

"Where were you supposed to take Undeta’s daughter?"

Djek swallowed. "Under the tower, down in the old city sewers. We were supposed to hand her off to some higher-ups, split the money, then shove off."

<Well,> Sepo frowned, <then it looks like we need to find a way underneath this building. It seems Tyche will be doing a solo deal.>

.

Here it comes, Twenari winced. A beat later, the wave of nausea hit her, coupled with a bone-tugging fatigue. Only barely was she able to reform her sigil and reignite the glow. Her vision flickered and when she could see again, she was on her knees. Funny, she hadn't felt herself fall.

.

"You've known me for what, two months now? When have I never not been careful?"

Twenari pursed her lips. "That's not worthy of a response. I just wish you'd take me with you."

"You have to cover for me, you know that. Besides, it's probably going to be, like, super boring. All dusty scrolls and crusty old guys and shit."

"Boring to you maybe," Twenari sulked.

"Look, I'll bring you back a dusty scroll, how about that?"

"That's stealing and you're illiterate," the girl deadpanned.

"Huh, what's that? It sounded like disrespect." Izjik feigned cupping her ear. "Anyways, I'm going to be late. See you tonight! With details!"

.

Sepo obviously didn't have that option. He could switch between the mental and physical keys, meaning he could stun the unwary or excite the elements as he was doing now. And thank fuck he could also just manage a song of flesh carving.

.

Cursing again - this time in Janazi - Twenari spun her storm of orange slabs in a wide arc around the perimeter of the tent. Swords and less nimble drones went flying as the shields began a ferocious circuit around the tent's base. At that speed, their glow blended into one shimmering circle of fire. She didn't have enough to completely encircle it, but hopefully with the occasional change in rotation, the guards would at least be too pressed to make it through before Izjik finished.

.

Outside of her monotonous, yet carefully taxing routine, it wouldn't have taken long for Twenari to begin to pick up real skills. Deadly ones. And Undeta had no doubt that any group her daughter fell in with would end up wrapped around her finger. Talent was quite the asset, or liability, in that area. Inevitably, people would come to rely on you, and those who rely on you are just as good as slaves.

.

Wooo, we made it! I'll tag @kaylinalexanderbooks @cowboybrunch @modernwritercraft @hagscribes @halfbit and anyone else who wants to play :)

[missnancywritesfanfic]

How You Married The Wanderer

Wanderer(Scaramouche) x Fem!Reader

Contains: Headcanons(?)/Longfic, Extreme Fluff, Suggestive(Barely), Tsundere Behaviour, Probably ooc but who cares

A/N: I'm a simp and I love the idea of getting to call him Husband all the time, sue me!!

--

You're an up-and-coming playwright that travels from nation to nation, orchestrating shows for audiences of the highest quality. Your darling husband never found the use in it.

Where he was a scholar of the mind, you are a scholar of the people. And he barely tolerates people.

If you'd told anyone that you were married to Wanderer, the volatile right hand to the Dendro Archon? They'd say you're crazier than the rumors claim.

Yes yes, it's a bold claim to make but the ring on your finger doesn't lie. A beautiful shade of blue that you handpicked yourself. And despite your beloved partner not wearing his out in the open, you can easily sneak your finger under his shirt and reveal it hanging on a silver chain.

But how? You may ask. What magic was conjured that caused two people who are so stubborn to possibly tolerate each other enough to promise their lives to one another.

First Meeting

You were commissioned to write a play that was to be performed in Sumeru City, and while you were taking in the culture and enviromment you had bumped into him by sheer coincidence. At first, you thought he was just some bratty man child with a big hat. Admittedly handsome (which you said to his face), but was in serious need a tune change.

Continued Interactions

Research. The common factor. You were alone traversing the more unforgiving territories of Sumeru, in a ridiculous outfit and four inch heels, fighting off fungi in a Withering Zone. You'd been warned about this, which is largely why your team was too cowardly to come out with you, but you didn't really care.

Fortunately, you did have a vision. Wanderer watched from a distance as frigid winds overtook your onslaught of enemies. But the way this fight was going he's sure you'd lose, so against his better judgement he swooped down and "rescued" you.

"So you're going to leave me to my own devices now? You don't seem like the one and done type."

"Don't waste your breath. I'm just paying you back for my sour mood. You're on your own."

"I wouldn't be wasting my breath if I didn't think you'd be useful. I need a competent guide so name your price."

You got along with him. You damn well tried at least. But from the moment he agreed to collaborate with you, all you two could manage was bickering and arguing. Over literally anything.

Your choice in clothes. Your combat prowess. Your goals. Your aspirations. Your likes and dislikes...

"How could you possibly hate sweets? Were your taste buds ruined since birth?"

"I'm not taking criticism from the idiot who lost their shoe in the mud."

"Well if we used your ridiculous hat to scoop it out like I suggested, I'd still have it."

He did most of the work, which you were fine with. While he fought off anything that got in your way, you took the time to document your observations and discoveries (maybe a few notes about the mysterious vagrant himself). Watching him in action was truly something else. By the end of your first outing together, just before you parted way at the city entrance, you stared at him with a certain glint of recognition in your eyes.

"You know, you are truly a brilliant man."

Sometimes you wonder if that's why he chose to continue escorting you around Sumeru. Sometimes he wonders that as well.

Dating/Figuring Out Long Distance

He made the decision to court you a month into knowing you, this was shortly after your play's debut performance. It was a resounding success, which meant your time together was over, at least, that's what you both assumed.

However, while you still had some time left in the city, you wanted to thank him for his time and his oddly enjoyable company. So as a gift, you gave him bittersweet herbs only found in Fontaine.

"Before you say anything, I have absolutely no use for these and they'll be in better hands this way. Besides, it might help you acclimate to the sweeter side of things."

You didn't expect him to give you anything in return. At first, you were hoping it was a pair of shoes to replace the ones you'd lost. He laughed in your face at the implication.

"You seriously thought I'd waste Mora on something like that? In your dreams."

He takes your hand-something along the lines of trusting him-and as your feet left solid ground your arms quickly wrapped around his neck. He kept an arm securely around your waist and lifted you above the great tree of Sumeru.

Laid before you was the setting sun along the forest horizon. You didn't notice Wanderer staring at your awestruck expression, and for the first of many times a warm feeling stirred in his chest.

"You're definitely interesting, for a human."

"Interesting?"

"Don't make me repeat myself."

Oh. Ooooh, that was his silly way of saying he liked you. How adorable. It probably wasn't the best idea to peck him on the cheek while you were several feet in the air, but he seemed to enjoy it. He refused to loosen his grip on you.

He hated to see you leave Sumeru, but you promised to write him no matter where you went. Sure enough, in two weeks, he'd received a letter from Liyue detailing your journey there and your infatuation with their theatre scene. The letter was packed, clearly you didn't have enough space to tell him everything on your mind.

When you received your first letter. There was barely any words.

"Your writing's barely legible. Just wait until we see each other again to share the details, don't have too much fun without me."

You find your face completely flushed upon finding a perfectly pressed Sumeru Rose. It seems he cared more for the nuances of romantic literature than he led on, and to send you a flower as fragrant as this. Such a tease.

What Made You Fall In Love

For Wanderer, it was during your play's debut performance, but he hadn't realized it yet. After a receiving a standing ovation from the people of Sumeru, you were completely ecstatic.

What no one else knew was you were a nervous wreck before the play started. Wanderer had been with you backstage, watching your nerves fraying at the edges with every line, every scene, every transition. To see you wearing this success with absolute pride and joy, he was amused at the sight, how easily your emotions depended on your life's work.

But he couldn't mock you for it, because you leaned on him that night as well. You placed absolute faith and confided in him your fears, he still doesn't understand why to this day, but he's...oddly thankful for it.

For you, it was your first trip to Inazuma and insisted on going with you. Never again, for his sake and yours. The entire time he was uneasy and you could do nothing to settle his nerves, so you let him follow until he couldn't anymore. It was when you traversed the island of Tatarasuna, where you witnessed his soul laid bare and broken. The rage, the guilt, the edge of despair, and his determination to live on. You witnessed his will and you would carry it with you till your dying breath.

How could you ignore such a beautiful soul? Call it greed, the most disgusting shade of sin, but you bathed in it when it came to Wanderer.

The Wedding

Neither of you really proposed, in fact, the idea of marriage hadn't really crossed your minds until the day you were walking together during one of you rare trips together in Liyue. A kind elderly woman mused at how lovely a couple you made, and how lucky you were to have such a handsome husband.

Wanderer noticed your face immediately flush, you stuttered as you tried to explain to the old woman how you weren't married in the nicest way possible. Normally, he'd find this behaviour terribly amusing, but this time around he merely observed.

For the rest of the day, you refuses to look him the eye, when he held your hand it was clammy to which he complained, you could barely pay attention during a conversation. When you passed by a jeweler, you'd come to a halt. He groaned.

"What is it now?"

You didn't respond. He joined your side and followed your gaze to a matching ring set. Cut and polished noctilucous jade that had a faint glow to them. You swear you could see your reflection in its light, but your trance is suddenly disturbed by Wanderer calling the jeweler's attention.

"We'll take the set."

"Wh-What? Darling, there's no need to..."

"You'll just stand here slackjawed otherwise."

After handing off the mora, he took the rings from the merchant's hand and slipped one onto your finger. "Just take it." That's the second time he sees that flustered expression.

You didn't even protest. He scoffs as he pockets the other ring, and continues walking. But that wasn't the end of your aimless thoughts. As you retired to an inn for the night, you kept thinking about that jade ring and sneaking glances at your lover.

"Have you thought about it?"

"Nope."

"Do you want to?"

You both settle in the bed and rest against the headboard. You lean into him and his arm naturally finda its way around you. You watch his face turn into a scowl.

"Why would anyone want that? The very idea feels like an obnoxious display that doesn't amount to anything."

"So...you wouldn't like it if I called you my husband? Or that you could call me your wife?"

He doesn't blush. He shouldn't blush. But at the ridiculous thought of claiming you as his significant other, a whisper of pink touches his cheeks. You smile.

"You're a god, aren't you? Or you claim to be one."

"Your point." He gives a pointed glare as your smile widens.

"A god's word is law, right?"

Your words hung in the air for a moment. A god's word...He curses under his breath. You were an unbelievably inpatient woman. To even suggest that he could make your wish a reality with a single yes...It both filled him pride out how high you think of him, and made him loathe how easily he'd cower to your every whim.

"So...?" You coaxed him from his thoughts. "May you kiss the bride, my darling?"

You don't exchange another word. He leans in and you settle for a peck on the lips, you think you've teased him enough for one day. He suddenly cups your cheek, thumb brushing against your jaw, and draws you into a deeper kiss.

Both rosey cheeked and holding onto one another for dear life. After what feels like an eternity, he finally allows you breathe and your lips part. You breathe a relieved sigh as you rest your head on his shoulder.

Had he not been careful, he would've nearly missed you whispering three delicate words to him.

His eyes widen, suddenly becoming so vulnerable like a spooked gazelle, before he grits his teeth and looks away.

"You're such a pain."

"Are those your vows to me, husband?"

"Shut up..."

As lovely as your private ceremony was, Wanderer was a practical man and wanted to your spouse not only in spirit but on paper.

You both agreed to sign for a marriage license once you returned to Sumeru City. He will always remember it as one of the worst days of his life. Up until that moment, you didn't know his official government name. When you stood before a municipal clerk to make your union official, both Wanderer and the clerk were subjected to your uncontrollable laughter.

"Damnit woman, we've been here for over an hour! Just sign the damn paper!"

"I-I'm sorry..! I'm so so sorry-hehehe..!"

"This was your idea!"

"But I'm serious! Is it Hat-comma-Guy? Is my surname now Hat Guy? Or do I refer to myself as Mrs. Guy??"

"I'm signing for divorce, you can drop dead fkr all I care."

"No no no, marry me first! It's a wonderful name-!"

When You Are Together

You almost always apart. Your lives went down separate paths. That doesn't mean you wouldn't develop any noticeable habits or routines.

When the tours have finished for the season, you return to your Wanderer with a grin and love-struck gaze. He hated it. Absolutely disgusted with how forward you were. So much so that he'd drag you away and scold you private (🤭). And everyone knew...oh everyone knew. Wanderer hated the idea of you silent, and you adore the look on his face when he pulls a moan from your lips. If you were going to be so open about your love for him, there will be no exceptions.

You've started picking up some habits from him. Like his playfulness, his taste for salty or bitter foods, you even caught yourself using the phrases "Unsightly insects" or even a whisper of "You dare..!" It's lead to more petty arguments than you'd like to admit.

As for him, he'd become more physically expressive, he wouldn't turn his nose up to sweets anymore, and he's begun uttering some phrases like "Wonderful!" or "Exquisite". He blames you for being so dramatic all the time, now he sounds like an idiot.

And who could forget that no matter what the occassion, you two will always be in sync yet somehow bickering about the smallest things. Maybe it's the way you showed your love, but archons pray for the victim who gets caught on the receiving end your collective anger.

Lives will be ruined. Self-esteems crushed.

Having the both in a good mood is like seeing a double rainbow.

You still coveted each other.

You attend public events when he's representing his darshan and cheer him on. You are there during haunting nights with a fresh cup of tea and your voice to soothe his pain. You are there to ensure that in his pursuit for the truths of the world, that he will also remember and cherish its beauty. No matter how bitter it may turn.

He watches your moves intently when you're together to make sure you never bump into others or trip on your own feet. He tells you incredible tales from centuries long past when you're feeling your inspiration running low. He still presses flowers into little charms for you so that you'll always think of him. Only him.

Plans For The Future

Wanderer is a god. An immortal that will live for centuries to come. You didn't know this at first, but as time went on and got closer, it did bring legitimate questions.

Were you willing to dedicate your entire life to him?

Is he okay with watching you grow old and wither away before his very eyes?

Are you okay with him finding another lover when you're long gone?

These never changed your feelings for one another, maybe Wanderer did become more protective over your wellbeing. He'd forbid dangerous ventures, if you ever fell ill or got injured good luck leaving your home for even a moment. And maybe you start having moments where you're lonely and he becomes more a legend than a person. Long quiet stares at his unchanging image, distancing yourself from him so you could focus on your own goals, sometimes he made you feel almost infantile because of his age and wisdom.

Not every day is perfect. Some days aren't even considered good. You try not to dwell on it.

The topic of children did come up, and neither of you are ready to give away so much of your life to raise what you can only imagine to be a very unique being. His past spoke for itself and he knew he's not fit to be a parent. You enjoy your freedom and career, you only had so much time on this earth and wanted to spend it without worry.

You two continue to act as you always have.

Maybe you'd buy a home together; fill it with all your happy memories and gifts over the years. And for the rare times where you had no place to wander, and wanted to recouperate.

No matter how much he denies it, he'll happily cook meals you brought over from many continents, some from your childhood as well. You'll silently curse at the dining table while you try to sow a doll like he taught you, your fingers red from the needle pricking you.

When it's late at night, you'll either drag him away from his studies or he'll take you away from your writing. You'll stay in bed until noon the next day, sometimes talking for hours and other times deep in dreams. It didn't really matter.

You're lucky to have each other.

[mikhailwrites]

What happens in a pub, stays in a pub / Ghost x Soap

Kinktober #1 - Leather&Latex

Alright, I've never done any challenges so we'll see how it goes. These will be short so I'll be crossposting on AO3.

Obviously 18+.

Ghost is usually the last to arrive at One-Four-One's celebratory drinks. As he goes inside, immediately locking on Price's bucket hat and Gaz's bright laughter, it takes just a second to see that they're still one man short. And they probably will be for the rest of the evening, what with Soap still on medical leave.

Ghost takes his usual place in the booth's corner, momentarily thrown off by the fact that he doesn't have to squeeze past his Sergeant. His life has been imbalanced by Soap's absence, but it's not the big things that get to him; his training and experience can account for most of them. No, the devil's in the details.

In the fact that in the past three weeks, nobody brought him a cuppa while he was working late, finishing some reports and forms. That he's been doing his morning runs and gym sessions alone. That he couldn't pick on Soap's accent or torture him with horrible jokes. Ah, yes, there's also the minor inconvenience of Ghost having to wank off instead of shagging his Sergeant. All in all, he's unhappy about Soap's leave.

Taking a swing from a glass of bourbon that just got delivered to him, he hopes it will better his mood.

They are all about two and a half glasses in when the door of the pub opens. Ghost's attention immediately snaps at the sound, unable to keep his guard down fully, even in the friendly and familiar environment.

The moment he lays eyes on the newcomer, however, his brain shortcircuits. There's Soap walking over to them. That alone would be surprising but hardly shocking. It's the get-up he's in: tight, black leather pants and a padded jacket, also leather. Ghost's seen him in civvies, but never like this. It twists something deep in his gut.

Some part of his astonishment has to be clear on him despite the mask because Gaz picks up on it and turns around, immediately raising his hand to greet his fellow mate.

Soap grins as he comes closer and sits next to Ghost. Ghost, who cannot but wonder if Soap knows how well his arse looks in the leather.

"Sorry I'm late; the traffic's been a nightmare," Soap smiles, raising his glass of beer.

"No worries, mate, had no idea you were coming back tonight," Gaz nods. So the Ghost hasn't been the only one kept in the dark.

Price can probably tell what they're thinking; otherwise, Ghost cannot explain the apt choice of Captain's next words. "I didn't want you boys to keep the hopes up in case he couldn't make it, so I didn't tell you."

"I would be here sooner if I took the plane from Glasgow, but then I'd have to leave my sweetheart up in Scotland, and that just wouldn't do," Soap explains. Unfortunately, nobody really has any idea what he's talking about.

"Your what, mate?" Gaz voices what Ghost thinks.

"Ah, that's right, you dinnae ken. Got a bike, I really like to go for a ride sometimes, so I've got it stashed away on the base usually."

Now, that explains the attire.

The conversation flows and ebbs naturally over the course of the evening, but Ghost doesn't really pay attention. It's a good thing that he's usually quiet, so nobody notices. Well, nobody except for Soap, who's giving him these covert side glances.

Ghost settles more comfortably in the corner, letting his hand fall under the table in what he hopes passes as an innocuous gesture. It's not all that innocuous as his hand gingerly touches Soap's thigh, feeling the smooth material, warm with Soap's body heat seeping through it.

The Sergeant does a heroic job of appearing unphased by it. Ghost only takes it as an open challenge as he angles his hand so his fingers brush gently against the bulge in Soap's crotch. Johnny twitches, quickly rolling his shoulders to mask it.

A minute later, Soap stands up, excusing himself to the bathroom. Ghost seizes the opportunity and follows him. Not immediately; that would look suspicious. He waits a minute or two, trying to look as bored as ever. When he does get up, he's mindful to keep his own groin as out of sight as he can.

Soap is standing by the basins, washing his hands. The moment the door closes behind Ghost, he looks up into the mirror, locking eyes with him.

"Fancy meeting you here, LT," Soap smiles. Ghost's fuse, already short, blows. He grabs Soap by the shoulders and ushers him into the stall, locking the doors behind them. He wastes no time, pushing him against the wall before kissing him deeply, tasting the beer he's had. Soap joins in without a pause. Grabbing Ghost's waist and pressing them together as he moans into the kiss.

Ghost grinds against him, but it's way too uncomfortable, and he wants something else, anyway. Leaving Soap's kiss-swollen lips, he latches onto his neck briefly before he sinks to his knees, between Johnny's legs.

"Creepin' Jesus, Simon," Johnny whispers, reaching for the top of the balaclava before he yanks it off. He knows he can; he has done it many times already, yet he seems to enjoy it still. Ghost runs the palm of his head against Soap's leather-clad boner, humming in appreciation as he feels it twitch.

Reaching up, he tugs Soap's black tee and kisses him on the navel before licking his way down to the hem of the cursed pants. Soap tastes of salty sweat and sea. He feels him shiver as Ghost blows gently on the line of dark hair. Suddenly, there are hands in Ghost's hair, urging him lower.

"You tease me with these fucking pants all evening and now get impatient?" Ghost argues, but he's not resisting. He puts his hands on Soap's ass, kneading at the firm muscle as he opts for the cheapest move in the book, unbuttoning and unzipping the pants with his mouth alone. It's a bit tricky, but the look of utter disbelief he gets is worth it.

Ghost nuzzles against the straining fabric of Soap's black briefs before he pulls the waistband down. Soap reaches to the hem of his pants to lower them as well, but Ghost stops him. "No way, love, these stay on."

Soap chuckles. The smile doesn't last as Ghost dives in, licking Soap's prick from base to the tip with long, broad strokes. The smell of leather, sweat and arousal does nothing to quell his own hard-on.

Ghost licks his lips before letting the cock head press against them, then past and deeper into his mouth. Johnny's moan is repressed but sweet, the tightening grip of his hand in Simon's hair a clear sign of appreciation. Ghost hollows his cheek, sucking him slowly in until the coarse hair tickles his nose. Under his palms, Johnny's arse clenches as he fights the urge to simply fuck Simon's mouth.

Ghost shifts slightly and relaxes before pushing Soap's hips forward, forcing his cock deeper.

Johnny whimpers above him, a sound that's halfway between protest and delight. Ghost pushes him a little bit away, giving him a false sense of control and security before he grabs Johnny's hand still resting on top of Ghost's head, forcing it to hold him tighter and with his other hand urging his hips forward again. At the moment, he cannot give Soap any louder and clearer consent.

Thankfully, Johnny catches on. A second hand is tangled in Simon's blonde strands, and Soap snaps his hips forward, groaning as he sheathes himself fully in the wet heat of Simon's throat.

He jerks back and then forth again, setting an unsteady rhythm crowned by unbridled brutality. He seems to be just as pent up as Simon after Soap's three-week-long leave. Simon kneads at the leather, hearing the distinct creak of it, and in the brief moments of reprieve, breathes in its smell as he lets Soap do as he pleases.

"Si…I…I'm gonna…," Soap stutters a warning, but he doesn't stop. Simon doesn't mind, closing his eyes, humming deep in his throat, knowing full well the vibration of his vocal cords will bring Soap over the edge.

Johnny gasps, his grip on Simon's hair painful as he thrusts a few more times before going completely still. Simon feels spurt after spurt of salty-bitter, hot load on the back of his tongue, swallowing it without a second thought.

Ghost stands up and winces at the ache in his knees. Well, there's a reason they wear knee pads in the fields. Johnny is slumped against the wall, breathing heavily, face deeply flushed. However, it only takes a moment for his usual smug self to return in full power.

As he tucks himself away, noting a damp stain in Ghost's crotch, he grins. "Christ, Ghost, if I knew how much these pants turn ye on, I'd have worn them sooner."

[mentallyshattered]

This is part 22 of the "What if Yuu didn't want to go back?" Series!

(I, the author of this work, do not consent to this work being crossposted/translated without my knowledge or used to train an AI, ever.)

Masterlist

Sam's shop. I've never been there before, but it's about time to change that, I'd say. We need the distraction. Grim is enjoying it fully, probably thinking about the tuna he's sure to get.

And here we are! Admittedly, I'm not sure if we can afford anything that's not on sale, but it's worth a shot, right?

The shelves are stocked high, but not too high- many students are a bit short, so the items are only about two and a half meters off the ground at the highest. Despite that, there are stools along the ends of the rows, magically attached to their paths along the edges of the isles. I don't need them.

"Okay, Grim, can you smell the tuna or anything? I don't know where to look."

"No need, dear customers! I'll show you, just follow me."

Grim and I follow the man in the patchwork top hat through the expanse of items and prices, recognizing him as Sam, the owner. As he leads us, an odd feeling settles itself into my being. What is it? Oh, that's it- though the shelves are short, the store is vast, stretching onward like a neverending maze. Following Sam through all this feels a lot like I'm walking through a limnal space, guided by a supernatural entity of unknown origin.

"Here we are!" In front of us, Sam is motioning to a shelf with stout cans of tuna stacked one atop another. Sure enough, the price tag on the edge of the suspiciously strong plastic reads "SALE" and is followed by a slashed-out price displayed above a price that's worth half the original, written in larger font. I don't need to look to know Grim's reaction.

"Thank you!" I wave to Sam, grab some tuna, and turn back. He's gone by then, so I just move Grim to my other shoulder and walk to the counter. Sam is waiting there, smiling as usual, and sends us off with an enthusiastic "Thank you!" When we pay and leave.

How unusual. Oh, well. I'll let Grim have a can of this now, and the rest can be saved. Now, where's a trash can?..oh, over there!

...huh. There's a spot in the trash bags over here that's cleared out, about the size of a first-year student. Why? I can't see any reason someone would clear this out. Other than boredom, but this looks like it's been here for a while now. How odd. Meh.

I trash the lid and walk away. We have better things to do. Say, for example, hiding pencil erasers in Ace's bag until he notices and says something, or trying to figure out what the hell is up with Korrak.

"Myeeh, do you hear that?" I stop walking, merely two steps from the indent, and attempt to fine-tune my ears. When I hold my breath, I hear it. Music.

I'm a sin, but I'm half of the hourglass, glass, glass

I don't recognize the song, but I hear it. There is definitely some kind of music playing. But from where? A quick glance at Grim's ears tell me it's toward the pile of trash.

I turn around, slowly, silently, and look a little closer. The music is decently loud now, but I can't see its source.

"Hold my can." I take the half-eaten can of tuna from Grim with one hand and lower the other to allow him to jump down. He ignores the platform entirely and jumps down without my help, landing on concrete and quickly deciding he'd rather move the bags with magic than with his paws or face. The one right in front of him glows somewhat, rises, and reveals a pair of beaten-up headphones plugged into a strange, once-white rectangle.

Grim looks at me. I reach in with my free hand, grab the headphones, and Grim releases the trash bag the instant nothing is under it anymore in favor of hopping onto my arm. When I'm fully upright again, I pass Grim his tuna.

"Myeeh, thanks." He returns to eating. I try and examine the device. It resembles a rectangle when viewed from the front or back, but looking at the top gives it a more almond shape- if almonds were pointed at two ends and not rounded at one. It's very thin, too, much thinner than an almond.

The music still plays. I can't identify the song, but this is probably on a playlist, so I wait for the song to end. It loops.

Dah dah dah dah, da-dah dah dah, dah dah dah dah dah dah dah dah

The music kicks up. I still don't recognize the song. The headphones don't fit over my head, but, in my endeavors to put them on, I see him, on the edge of my vision. Barely visible.

Korrak. I don't see Rook. Why is he here?

Ok, Yuu, hold on. You don't want to sound suspicious. That's your roommate and friend. He doesn't know I've seen him yet. So...

I turn to face him and ask, "Hey, are these yours?" He startles. Okay, maybe that wasn't the right move. Still, he attempts to reply- a series of quiet chitters and chirps I can't understand, yet still too loud to miss for my now cat-level hearing, even over the wind and faint music.

"Yeah," Mandible nods, presumably translating for Korrak, "those are ours. Thanks for finding them." I can't be sure as to why Korrak stutters and Mandible doesn't.

"Well, here you go. Your song is still playing." Indeed it is, the singer's voice calling out to be remembered for hundreds of years. Korrak, upon seeing my outstretched hand, visibly relaxes and reaches out to take it.

I've seen that reaction before, on videos, in photos, and in the mirror- not the magic one- when I realized something I saw as precious hadn't been stolen or lost, but was being returned to me.

I saw it in Grim's eyes, reflected from my own when I saw him before the entrance ceremony.

These must be important to them. They've probably had them for years and years, a persistent source of comfort through tough and easy times alike.

Grim was like that for me.

"Thanks," speaks Mandible. It takes me a moment to register his words as his, momentary confusion clouding my judgment of Korrak's voice vs. Mandible's jaws moving. The confusion clears with a single word rushing into my mind: ventriloquism.

Another question rises from the ashes of my puzzlement, burning like a Phoenix: why doesn't Mandible stutter?

Just as quickly, the question abandons me, and nothing more comes of the interaction- rather, a new one begins at the moment's end, with Rook walking up and playing a hand on Korrak's unoccupied shoulder. Korrak briefly panics, a flash of intense fear taking root in his eyes, but that fear is pulled up when he realizes whose wrist the black-gloved hand is attached to.

"Monseurs," Rook begins, nodding at me and Grim as well as Korrak and Mandible, "Come with me. You are going to brew potions in class soon, and I have been instructed to ensure that you all know the basics and how to apply them."

I approach when Rook motions with his free- well, not really, he's holding his bow with that one- hand for me and Grim to follow his lead. A short-feeling walk later, we're back at Pomefiore's main building, through the lounge, down a flight of stairs, and standing in a dark, basementy room that reminds me of medieval castles- if they were cleaned and the atmosphere of a damp, uneven-floored chamber were intentionally crafted. Rook leads us over to a cauldron, and I see the nearby bench against the wall. Epel is sitting there, head slumped a little to his right like he's drowsy, but not yet asleep.

Rook snaps his fingers. Epel jolts upright, his head turning rapidly from side to side until he spots us and hurries from his seat to a spot beside the cauldron. He's in his labwear, and, with a flick of his magic pen, so is Rook. Korrak follows suit, swapping his neatly-buttoned jacket, dress shirt, and Pomefiore-purple vest for a dull white lab coat and a pair of the goggles every Pomefiore student has. Mandible chitters something I don't know at him, and, a moment later, me and Grim are the only ones not in labwear- a fact soon made false. Clearly, my practice is paying off.

Rook waves his magic pen again, filling the cauldron with a shimmering liquid I initially fail to recognize as water in the opalescent lighting of the room. Epel looks at us all, moving his goggles down his face to sit over his eyes once Grim taps the clear frame of the cat-adjacent familiar's protective eyewear.

"Now, then," the vice housewarden speaks up, his voice steadfast, "Every Pomefiore student worth their salt needs a flawless pharmalogical grounding." He briefly moves away to fetch a cart with three levels, the upper two of which are covered in a thick, single layer of small glass vials with corks. The top jars look to contain herbs, judging by the faded green and slightly-wilted brown reflected and refracted by the smooth, light-bending surface of their containers. The ones on the middle level, however, appear to contain a collective rainbow of various spices, rocks, furs, and everything else Crewel hasn't let us touch yet, with the exception of equipment.

I squint at the sudden, unmistakable scent of mint wafting off the cart, in spite of the fact that it's on Rook's right and I'm on his left. Grim moves to cover his nose with his paws, but stops when he remembers he's wearing lab gloves and that might not be a bright idea. Looking over, Mandible's nose is twitching like mad- he and Korrak must be getting the brunt of it.

In asingle half-second, I realize Rook is holding his breath, his chest steady instead of slowly moving with his lungs, and then he pushes the cork down onto a vial I hadn't noticed him reaching for, closing it. The aggressive scent of mint wanes and blows away. Rook exhales and inhales, clearly relived. He's a hunter; his sense of smell is sharp. Too-strong oders must be overwhelming to him- they are to me.

A memory surfaces in my mind- falling asleep in a bed of mint, wild mint, dug up and moved to one spot, with Grim in my arms, and then it fades, vanishing like clear gel tossed into the sea. Another event rises into the forefront of my attention, more solid and vivid than the last. The mix of disappointment and sorrow that rose then comes with it, soon yet gradualy overtaken by the sense of apathy that settled into my being back then. That numbness stuck around for years until fate dragged me into this school to reunite with Grim and feel again.

Why did that particular memory surface? What is it that ties then to now, only now? Laying in a bed of mint- oh! My nose is sharper now, much sharper. Back then, I could lie in a bed of it and rest well, but now a meter and a half away is too close.

My familiar stands on all fours and stretches straight up, claws digging ever-so-slightly into the surface of my skin and coat. I snap back to the present. That's right, I'm busy. Busy doing what? Oh, that's right, Rook's helping with upcoming potionology work.

"Now, then..." Rook doesn't talk too much, evidently favoring the act of guiding us by our hands and arms, only commenting when the herbs become involved. Contrawise, he hums near-constantly, one of the melodies bringing the earlier encounter with Korrak and Mandible to my immediate attention. It's the same song.

Rook was there. Good. That means Korrak had some other company. I was a little worried, but now that I know Rook was there to keep an eye on them, some tension I was previously unaware of dissapates like smoke set free from a jar and into the cool evening breeze.

Soon, though, we are back upstairs, in the Backstage Room, discussing as we usually do. I hear someone say the time and our roommates leave me to complete my last two steps with ease, choosing to brush Grim until we're both off to bed. Korrak is asleep by the time we get there, and, soon, Grim curls up in his cat bed as I curl up in my human bed, and then we both close our eyes for the night. My dreams are a single, simple phrase:

"Memory Lane"

[themerchliing]

@lannamused

Ever since landing the tannery job, Wylan had been working non-stop while picking up extra duties whenever they were available. He’d even helped the dye chief, his boss, improve production by suggesting an alternative process. It hadn’t resulted in a pay rise or anything (he was working up to asking for it) but he’d already managed to cement himself as an important worker among the people who’d been there for years.

But today was a rare day off and he didn’t want to spend it thinking about work. Instead, he needed to run some errands and buy some bits and pieces. Fortunately, he didn't have to worry about his lack of clothing anymore. With some money he earned through the tannery job, Wylan had managed to buy himself outfits suitable to Barrel life as well as a coat that would hopefully keep out the cold when winter set in. For now, he was just glad to be wearing something nice that didn’t have that strong chemical smell attached. I wonder if I can buy some good detergent…

No, he had to budget instead of giving into temptation and buying home comforts he was used to. He had the means to make his own detergent using a combination of washing soda, baking soda, borax, soap, and essential oils. It would take time, but if he could make it in large batches, it would save him money in the long run.

Lost in thought, he turned to head to one of the stalls that sold oils he could use. He also required more ingredients for his side project; his demo work was something he hoped could turn into his main job once he’d fully settled into the workshop he’d recently purchased. Although, thinking of his workshop, he winced as he recalled all the problems it had; cockroaches seemed to have been living there for a while, black mold caked the corners of the room, the windows were stuck closed, and the flooring was cracked with some parts hard to walk on. All of that had meant a dirt cheap price because the previous owner had been desperate to sell to anyone before they moved to Ravka. It was fine, though, It was a fixer-upper and Wylan would be able to make it better once he had the funds.

He paused in his tracks. Should he get some kind of repellent first? Then go to where the essential oils were? This marketplace was so big and he didn’t want to get turned around like last time. Wylan shuffled to a nearby wall so that he was out of the way of the other shoppers. He was too distracted to realize that he’d come to stand beside a tall man with a long coat and an interesting hat. A man that, if Wylan had been paying attention, would have recognized as a dangerous member of Kaz Brekker’s crew, a highly skilled sharpshooter with a reputation within the Barrel and someone that Wylan probably shouldn’t have stood next to...

[sroloc--elbisivni]

to cap it all off

I lost @kapuchino357's ask out of my askbox at some point in the last year and a half since they requested this when I opened prompts at the end of 2021, but here we go: Raoul showing a newly arrived Road Rage around Earth. (i am SO SORRY this has taken this long to finish :']) Names from the 1990 Kentucky Derby. Thank you @renaroo for the background knowledge. AO3 link.

“So explain to me again what this race is supposed to be.”

“Well, there’s horses. And they run fast.”

“So they’re like speedster frames for humans.” Road Rage sounded interested now.

Raoul just barely avoided snorting mint julep out his nose. “Uh, no. Not quite. Horses and humans are different species.”

“Hm.” Road Rage’s tone did not quite convey disappointment. Or approval.

“Humans raise horses to ride them. And rich people spend a lot of money on getting really fast horses, to run in races.”

“And the horses are rewarded when they win?”

“They probably get all the hay they can eat. But the point is that people bet on who’s going to win, and they make money if the horse they bet on wins.”

“And the horses aren’t paid,” Road Rage said. That tone definitely conveyed disapproval.

“Road Rage, I promise you, if you handed a horse money they’d just try to eat that too.”

“What’s the point of currency you can’t eat?” They were far enough back from the field and Raoul had checked with the owners that it was okay for her to transform, which meant he got to see her wings do the exact same flick Tracks’s did when he was pissy.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. Besides, anything we can eat goes bad eventually.”

“Right. Organics.” She sighed. “I used to be used to organics.”

“That so?”

“I was a bodyguard for an ambassador. We worked with a lot of organics.” She glanced around. “Don’t think I ever had to get used to a whole planet full of them.”

“Yeah. I never had to get used to robots before I stole a talking car. Life comes at you fast.”

“You stole him?” She laughed, chassis rattling under the shoulder he was sitting on. “My framebrother left out that little detail. He always says you saved him.”

“I did that too. I got a lotta skills.”

“So the horses get food, but it’s not the prize money, because the owners take that home themselves.” She sighed. “That sounds like speedsters. Do they at least get to race in their own names?”

“Oh, yeah. Check this out.” He dug the little betting slip that he’d picked up when he’d gone for his drink and to let the event people know that yes one of those big alien robots was here and no it wasn’t because they were about to get in a fight. “They’ve all got these crazy names. Silver Ending, Video Ranger, Fighting Fantasy, Killer Diller, Pleasant Tap.”

“The only crazy one there is Diller. What’s a diller?”

Ah, right. He was talking to a woman named ‘Road Rage.’ “Just a thing that rhymes with ‘killer.’ You say it when something’s extra killer. Extra cool.”

“Killer diller…” she sounded it out. “What are the other ones?”

He went down the list for her, and her head vrmmed thoughtfully and she said “I want to put a bet on the one named ‘Unbridled.’”

Raoul had put a dollar down on Power Lunch, just for fun, but he had a few more dollars. “Sure, I can get that going. You want anything else?”

“One of those fluffy helmets. Might as well go all the way on this cultural exchange thing.”

Raoul considered the mental image of a robot and/or a car in the enormous feathery hats he’d seen around the betting booth and decided this was absolutely worth paying upsold tourist prices to see.

[cluescorner]

My bullshit summary of the Interdarshan Championship Part 1 (spoilers obv)

Nilou: Yay! I am one of the two hosts for the competition, which fits in with my character and I am naturally good at being personable! I wonder who I’ll be paired up with? Maybe Kaveh because he’s the featured 4-star or Dehya because everyone is in love with her AND that would symbolize the fact that the rainforest part of Sumeru is becoming more inclusive! There’s my partner, and it’s...oh. 

Al-Haitham: Listen this is literally my last duty before they’re finally letting me step down they said that if I agreed to do this they would let me go back to being the scribe please I am literally begging you to just let this happen I will pay you my share if you just let me chill out. 

Nilou: Oh...ok! I’ll provide the commentary and you’ll provide the akademiya-ish side of things....great...

Nilou, to the side: Can somebody please get another reporter holy shit.

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

Dehya and Candace: We are lesbians and we are on a date. 

Everyone: Yay! Will you be relevant? 

Dehya and Candace: Not particularly but we will manage to become a highlight regardless. 

Everyone: Good enough for me!

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

Announcer lady: Introducing the representatives~

Tighnari - We are fairly certain he is actively committing academic crimes but the General Mahamatra refuses to do anything about it + everyone likes him

Kaveh - The featured 4-star babygirl who is trauma dumping and is going through a really rough patch in his life. Instead of sending him to therapy or providing him with other assistance, we sent him to the same competition which has killed people before including maybe his dad. There is no way this can backfire, especially when weird ghosts are showing up. 

Layla - The closest thing we have to a normal human being, and she isn’t even human

Faruzan - Girly at this point just hire a PR rep if you want students this badly, this is getting embarrassing 

Cyno - We put a TCG card into the mix because we know it’s his special interest and we needed to give him a reason to show up

LilBiotch - His name is Hat Guy now because none of you can behave

Anyways, what was that about weird ghosts? I don’t care and neither should you! This won’t lead anywhere bad, don’t worry. Go catch a speedy butterfly. We have totally leveled the playing field by creating a challenge that directly involves biological and technological creations, this gives nobody a distinct advantage we promise. 

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

Tighnari: Wow it appears that I may have a distinct advantage. Anyways, look at this cool method for catching butterflies. I’ll give y’all a free lecture so that my new VA can show off his chops. 

Everyone: Wow we love you Tighnari and new Tighnari VA. We will sign up for your seminar that is technically not allowed to occur and you DEFINITELY should not be promoting it at an event sanctioned by the akademiya, but it’s ok. 

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

Layla: oh no! i am lost! oh no! i will go chase the butterfly! 

Dehya and Candace: We are on a date!

Layla: i have chased the butterfly onto dehya now let me catch it

Dehya with a butterfly on her hair: *Becomes even prettier*

Me: AH FUCK SORRY LAYLA YOU CAN’T TAKE IT FROM HER PLEASE 

Dehya: Oh, here you go! Anyways, people are acting suspicious. I say this as though we’ve ever seen a Sumeru where people weren’t CONSTANTLY acting suspicious. 

Layla: ok. i will probably be irrelevant to that plot line, but i appreciate the knowledge regardless. thank you dehya and candace for showing up. 

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

Dori: HEYA SOME SHADY SHIT IS GOING DOWN

Me: What no way oh darn /s 

Dori: For the low, low price of hearing about shit you don’t care about, I will give you the information!

Me: What’s the reward? 

Dori: Primogems probably. 

Me: *Sigh* You are so lucky your VA is as cool and good as they are. 

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

Kaveh and Faruzan: What do you mean there can’t be two second-place winners?

Al-Haitham: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU THINK WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?! GOD WHY ARE YOU ALL SO (enters old bickering couple mode with Kaveh)

Nilou: Hahaha, this is fine :-) I was totally given a fair position :-) I will go get the lots :-) Both me and Al-Haitham can be relevant and I am not being neglected in favor of him during an event where I am the featured 5-star for part of it :-) I am super glad I did this :-)

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

Announcer Lady: Wow, it seems that two of the people who won were the person focused on biology and the person focused on technology (though he basically gave up his points even after Faruzan offered them because...wait why did he do that). It seems that our competition was actually less balanced than we thought. 

Me: Yeah no shit

Announcer Lady: So our next competition will be held in the desert!

Me, looking at poor Tighnari who is gonna be going through it + Cyno and Faruzan who have both spent a good amount of time in the desert: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!

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

Like 8 NPCs: OH NO THERE ARE THINGS HAPPENING ABOUT *insert dude’s name here*

Me: I literally do not care. I forget the guy’s name and I don’t even wanna look it up. I will take your rewards, though. Baizhu is right around the corner. 

[bastetwastaken]

Another WIP? From me? Who'd have thought it.

This time it's not romance though, so there's that, right?

........

She put me in the worst spot imaginable. The woman who appears to run this…place.  

She put me right in the corner of the window which faces out onto the street, under an old item of some sort of clothing which I'm sure is a hat…it probably smells dusty. 

I think this place is some sort of shop, I know that people come in here and exchange money for goods, so it must be. 

I wonder if I have a price. 

I hope I’m expensive. I certainly feel as if I should be. 

Anyway, I digress. My point is that I'm sitting in the least advantageous spot in this entire world and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. 

I used to be worshipped. I used to be adored. I led an entire civilisation to prosperity and for them, I gave my life. That much I have gathered over the years with the help of the occasional receptive host. 

My journey has not been a glamorous one by any means, but it has led me here and I must hope that it means something if I am to get through this. 

I was taken from my homeland hundreds of years ago by tomb robbers. They disturbed my sleep with their harsh words and actions, they desecrated the sanctity of whatever place I was residing in. They shoved me into an old sack and carried me to some other place I didn’t quite get to see before I was packed tightly into a box of other stolen artefacts and moved once more. 

I travelled for a long time, I’m unsure of exactly how long, but eventually I came to the home of a very stuck up man who mistreated many of those around him. He was receptive to me but I could not use him as my host fully. 

He wasn’t right. 

His dark soul wasn’t open enough to sharing a body with another. So I gave up on that pretty quick. Instead I tried to focus on his housekeeper. 

She was a lovely woman, too pure and kind hearted to be working for someone like him, but she did a great job…and if I helped her by occasionally using her boss to increase her pay little by little then it is what it is. 

Not that she ever knew that was what had happened. She only knew that her bank account suddenly looked significantly healthier and she could suddenly afford to live much easier. However she never heard my pleas, never realised I was trying to talk to her. 

Perhaps she was too pure to be receptive to someone like myself…

I wish I could have done more with that man's fortune but he was stubborn. I could only maintain control over him for short periods of time…but luck was on my side it seemed when he was found at the centre of a million dollar fraud scheme and lost everything. 

His possessions were taken from him and I was among them. 

It was a relief honestly when the kind housekeeper stopped by the box filled room I was being kept in and decided to take me with her. I thought she had finally heard me, that I could use her as my host. 

I was wrong. 

The kind housekeeper took me to another place where a balding man inspected me. He opened the container I reside in and tipped out the contents. I felt as if my soul lay scattered across the table before him but all he saw was a complicated puzzle, a mess of shapes which made no sense because he was not the one I was looking for. 

He told the woman I was a worthless trinket. Just some strangely complicated and expensive jigsaw that no one had bothered to solve. He told her that he could only offer her a small sum of money to take me off her hands. 

I begged her not to accept, to keep me with her instead of leaving me there but she either didn’t hear me, or didn’t care. 

She left me there and the pieces of my soul were scooped up roughly and dropped back into the box I still reside in now, placed upon a shelf and never looked at again. I slept for a long time, I spoke to no one, I didn’t even bother trying to feel out my surroundings. 

I suppose you could say I was moping, but in my defence, thousands of years with no real meaning to your existence and no idea what to do will wear a spirit down. 

I continued to wallow in silence, embrace the darkness I found myself in and told myself I was perfectly content with that. 

That was until the woman who put me here found me. 

She paid for me with a handful of coins and took me away from that place but I never tried to speak to her. I didn’t feel like it after so many years of disappointment. 

Now here I sit, in the corner of a window of some sort of shop for lost things. 

I have no idea how long I've been here, no idea how much longer I may have to sit and wait…for the right person, someone perceptive enough to hear my plea.

So I wait. 

Each day I watch people pass, some stop to look, but none of them hear me. I have no idea how much longer I can do this, but somewhere inside me I know that I must. 

I know that I will find that person one day, that I will once again have a purpose to fulfil, that the world will need me once again. 

But until then I must wait.

[enruiinas]

@climatact -- Canon || Romantic Bath, continued from here.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Separate or strung together, openly and affectionate were two words few would attribute to the renowned Surgeon of Death. Romantic and sentimental were even less befitting of the fearsome and eerie persona Law had spent years carving out for himself. And yet for all of that, and despite the icy glares he leveled at his crew whenever they sniggered about their captain rushing off to see his girlfriend at every opportunity, there was something to be said for the freedom of being able to take Nami's hand whenever and wherever he so desired.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎For as long as it had taken him to come to terms with his feelings for the navigator, agreeing to Nami's conditions had seemed only fair when she'd conceded to exploring the connection between them further. Keeping their relationship secret from her crew had been a small price to pay, he'd reasoned anyway: it wasn't like he was particularly keen on public displays of affection.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎And yet... as time dragged on, it had grown more and more difficult to keep his feelings to himself when he was around her. Surprisingly often the surgeon had found his fist curling in a pocket, stifling the urge to reach out - to grab her hand, to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, to tilt her chin toward his and give in to the frequent desire to lean down and press his lips to hers...

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎If he'd known in Wano how enthralled he'd become by the woman in these few short months, he would have... Well. If he were being honest with himself, he'd probably still be avoiding her. Feelings had never been his strong suit, after all. But considering what he'd be missing out on, the indignity of finding himself completely infatuated with the allied pirate (Exhibit A: two gifts of diamonds in as many months) was undeniably the better outcome.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Especially when it meant spending the day wrapped up in her, free to touch and hold a woman Law could only imagine how many thousands had dreamed of having to his heart's content - though an effort was still made to keep his hands mostly to himself around one Straw Hat in particular.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎It had all been worth it in the end. Even if she hadn't snuck onto his ship with an unexpected breakfast in bed - even if they'd done nothing special for the day, Law would have been happy just to spend it in her presence. But now that she'd dragged him in here, holding his gaze as she stripped down to nothing but the adornments he'd gifted her, the doctor was very much looking forward to slipping in the romantic bath with her. Amber orbs remained locked with chestnut for the quarter of a minute it took to discard his own clothing, the entire lot tossed aside with significantly less care than hers had been. Good thing none of the candles had been arranged in the distant corner he tossed them to.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎❝ 'Course it is, ❞ he smirked, kneeling at the tub's edge long enough to lift a hand to her chin. ❝ You're in it, aren't you? ❞ Before she could comment on the cheesy remark, he claimed her lips in a fleeting kiss - and then hummed and bade her scoot down as he stepped over the edge of the tub to sink into the suds behinds her, relaxing into the warm water with a contented sigh. Tattooed arms reached out to loop around her waist as Nami repositioned herself to accommodate the larger man. ❝ 'This is nice, ❞ the surgeon admitted with a soft kiss to her shoulder.