#she would outshine them...... maybe they were right for leaving her out!

[thetrolltolls]

dee as barbies 💖🎀👠

[its-time-to-write]

Final one for today

This one is a little odder but I feel like a single parent story would be great for Jamie

Like maybe reader is a single parent and is out in the park where the child is playing alone with a football (maybe trying to do some tricks) and accidentally kicks it to far and it hits Jamie (Who maybe is jogging by) jamie brings it over and does some tricks and the kid is like omg can you show me how to do that! reader is like embarrassed but Jamie is like sure so they spend a bunch of time playing football. The kid is a fan of Richmond but tickets are expensive so Jamie invites them to a game (Free) and they get to meet the team and it becomes a regular thing

Jamie is trying to work up the nerve to ask out Reader (He has never dated someone with kids before) and he doesn't want to mess up the relationship finally the child is like please ask my parent out!

I can't wait to see what you do with these!!

Here’s another one that I’ve been sitting on forever! Finally got around to it. And in case you couldn’t tell, I freakin love Keeley Jones. I think she’s great. Enjoy!

if only love were true

Thank god that Keeley Jones is your friend and she promised you’d never have to go stag to a work function.

“Keeley,” you say over the phone, “I need you to be my date for this fancy dinner/gala/thing I have for work next Sunday. I absolutely cannot go alone.”

“Next Sunday?” she says. “Let me check my calendar.”

You wait a moment as she presumably scrolls through her phone, checking her availability.

“Sorry babes,” she says after a long moment, “I’ve got a work thing too. Otherwise I’d totally be down to go as your hot trophy date.”

You groan. “Is there any way you can get out of it? Out of all the things I’ve taken you to, this is the one I need you at the most.” 

Keeley’s silent. You can tell she’s thinking. She knows why this one is important.

“Alright,” she says finally. “I can’t go, but what if I sent you with a friend of mine?” She continues loudly over your beginning protests. “He’s really sweet and fit and funny, and he owes me favors pretty much for the rest of his life. You’d have a great time I SWEAR.”

“I don’t know,” you say. “Do you think he can go along with everything? There’s a 50/50 chance it’ll be a shitshow.”

“Absolutely,” Keeley replies without hesitation. “He’s fucking great. Can be a bit of a prick sometimes, but he’s learned how to use those skills for the greater good.”

“Uh huh,” you say. “Right. I’m trusting you on this one, Keels. If he’s as good as you say, I’ll take him. But I really, really need this to be good.”

“Trust me,” she says, “You won’t regret it.”

—

Jamie Tartt arrives at your doorstep, fully briefed by Keeley as to his responsibilities. 

Be a gentleman, make her laugh, don’t fucking leave her with Harry.

Keeley showed him pictures of Harry’s instagram so Jamie would know exactly who he is on the lookout for.

It’s funny and it’s weird, but he’s not uncomfortable standing at the door, waiting for some woman he doesn’t even know. He’d do anything for Keeley, well aware that if she’s asking a favor, it’s for a good cause.

This is far out of his usual realm of expertise, but he reminds himself that he’s a person outside of being a footballer. A regular person would be a blind date for a friend of a friend at an awful work function.

Right?

Jamie doesn’t have time to dwell on the normality of this situation because the door is opening and you’re standing in front of him in some long gown that he swears outshines the stars.

“Hi,” you say. “It’s nice to meet you. Sorry about this.”

You call a goodbye down the hall before shutting the door. Jamie assumes it’s to a flatmate or something, whoever the owner of the other car in the driveway is. He just smiles. 

“I’ve had weirder dates,” he says. “Don’t worry about a thing, love. Tonight’s gonna be fucking mint.” He offers you his arm.

You take it and feel yourself relax. It’ll be fine.

—

It is not fine.

Harry’s there, and god help you if you don’t want to kick him where it hurts. He’s surrounded by girls, shining that far-too dazzling smile and you’re pretty sure you’re going to throw up. Your grip on Jamie’s arm tightens, and he follows your gaze to your ex-flame.

“He’s fucking old,” Jamie comments.

“Yeah, well, that’s kind of how he gets you,” you reply. “Acts all charming and smart and shit and then next thing you know, you’re in his bed. Soon as that’s over, you’re done.”

“Twat,” Jamie responds with such conviction that you chuckle a little, despite yourself. That is, until Harry sees you and sheds his little entourage as he makes his way over.

“Shit,” you whisper. “How do I look?”

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Jamie replies without missing a beat.

The words are barely out of his mouth when Harry is upon you, leaning in for a hug that Jamie doesn’t allow. You’re grateful for his block as he pretends he was going for a handshake. You don’t want Harry touching you and the sentiment is reinforced as he gives you a once-over and says, “Didn’t expect to see you here, darling. What, are you neglecting your duties for the evening?”

That sentence must have some hidden meaning, because your teeth are bared and it’s gone over Jamie’s head.

“My duties,” you say through clenched teeth, “include being here at this gala because we both work for the same company.”

Harry tilts his head in mock sympathy. “Yes, but if I recall your priorities have… shifted.”

Jamie might be losing circulation in his arm and he may not know exactly what is happening here, but he knows enough. Keeley told him Harry was a right git without really saying why, but he is in no need of an explanation. In fact, he thinks that “a right git,” is too much of a compliment.

Harry turns his attention toward Jamie. “Has she told you?”

Jamie doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but he’ll be damned if he lets this prick win.

“Yes,” he replies forcefully.

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Ah, and that’s not a dealbreaker?”

Jamie shakes his head. 

“How…progressive of you,” Harry replies, meaning the exact opposite. “You see, I wouldn’t want someone who… well, you know.”

Jamie’s about to say, “No, I don’t know,” and also maybe punch Harry when more people come up, demanding your attention. As you both turn away, Harry calls, “Let me know when you get tired of the immaturity and need a real man. My bed is always open to you.”

Your face is bright red and you think you’re going to bolt. Jamie starts like he’s going to fight Harry and for a moment you wonder if Keeley sent him because he’s a little bit feral. 

Unfortunately for Harry and fortunately for you, he spoke a bit too loudly. 

You’ll find out later that he was heard by some higher-ups and removed from the premises. However, since that information is not made available to you until the next day, you spend the rest of the evening looking over your shoulder for Harry’s reappearance.

Jamie, god bless him, is a wonderful date. He goes the whole nine-yards, holding your hand, tucking your hair behind your ear, cracking jokes with you and others at your table. He’s making you look good, and feel relaxed in the process. By the end of the night you’re feeling confident and have made a good impression on several people on the board. 

You have new opportunities at your disposal, as well as a potential promotion. You put a reminder in your phone to send Keeley some daisies as a thank-you. You’ll send something for Jamie as well.

—

He walks you to your door, ever the gentleman. You thank him profusely for the night, and tell him you’ll be rooting for him next time Richmond has a match. He grins. “You a fan?” he asks.

You laugh. “Yeah, I am. Used to go to every match till… well, I just don’t get out much anymore.”

Jamie grins. “We’ll have to change that, darling.”

Darling. 

He says it so differently than Harry. It’s all… bubbly. Not condescending, not designed to make you feel small. 

“Good night, Jamie,” you say. 

—

You don’t really expect to see (or hear from) Jamie again, except you do. Because he’s texting you.

The content varies, from messages passed on from Keeley to gifs to memes to weird little stories from training. You think you’d like his coaches, even Roy. It already felt like you knew them from all their interviews that you’ve seen, but hearing the behind-the-scenes snippets solidifies the feeling even more. Your chatting is regulated to the early morning and your lunch breaks, as you’re not much of an evening person anymore.

Jamie doesn’t seem to mind, he’s up early to do extra training with Roy and you’re up early to prepare for the day. You enjoy hearing from him at 6am on the dot every morning.

Saturdays are nice, because you don’t have work. Keeley comes over sometimes, but today you’re on the Richmond Green. You’re sitting on a bench, watching a boy kick a small football. You’re so completely absorbed in the way he’s running back and forth that you are startled when a shadow casts over your face.

“Fancy seeing you here,” says a distinctly Mancunian voice.

“Jamie!” you exclaim. “What’re you doing here?”

Jamie points to his trainers. “Going for a quick run. Roy’s out of town, but he still makes me take laps. Fucking mental.” He shakes his head. “What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to reply when the boy with the tiny football comes flying over. “Are you Jamie Tartt?” he asks.

Jamie crouches to his level. “I am. What’s your name, mate?”

“Liam!” he replies. “I have a football like you!”

Jamie smiles. “Good lad. Keep up with the practice, and you’ll be better than me someday.”

Liam’s bouncing up and down, so excited that he throws his ball in the air. Jamie catches it and does a trick. At this point Liam is completely enamored with Jamie, and you are as well. He’s giving this kid his complete attention, making his whole day. Anyone else would have just shooed him off, but not Jamie.

He’s good with kids, your brain yells. 

You tell your brain to shut up.

Jamie tosses the ball back to Liam. “Where’s your mum?” he asks. “Might have tickets to a match for you.”

Liam points. Jamie turns to look behind the bench where you’re sitting, as that’s where Liam is pointing. There’s no one.

“Which one?” he asks, turning back to Liam.

“Me,” you say. “I’m his mum.”

Liam climbs into your lap and holds your face in his tiny hands. “Mum, Jamie Tartt says we can go to a match!” he says.

You laugh. “Don’t get your hopes up, love, Jamie hasn’t made any promises.”

Liam settles into your lap, facing Jamie. He can’t see your face or the pleading look you’re giving Jamie.

Please don’t mess this up, you try to say with your eyes. Jamie must get the message because he keeps smiling and asks Liam if he wants to kick the ball around for a bit. You watch them go, dreading the imminent conversation.

—

Liam’s asleep in his little Richmond pajamas. He loves football, and you watch every single match the Greyhounds play. Tickets are expensive, and you promised you’d take him to a real game one day. Truth is, you aren’t sure when that will be. It’s not easy being a single mum, but as you watch Liam’s sleeping face, you know you wouldn’t trade him for anything.

You sigh and get out of the rocking chair. Might as well call Jamie and get it over with.

Please pick up, you pray, and he does; you’re in the dim kitchen lights, poking at a cup of tea.

“Hey!” comes Jamie’s surprised voice. “You alright? Need anything?”

You shake your head even though he can’t see. “No, I wanted to talk about today. And Liam. Harry’s his dad.”

“Figured,” Jamie replies. “Made his comments at the gala make more fucking sense.”

“Yeah,” you say. Harry is a fucking prick. “Harry… he doesn’t have any custody. He’s not allowed near Liam. He also doesn’t pay child support. Or want a child. Or anything, really. He just wants to fuck around and do what he wants with no consequences. I should’ve known better honestly, I’m not even one to go around like that. Figures the one time I do it ends up like this. Not that I’m complaining,” you continue, “Liam is the best part of my life. It’s just hard when I keep losing people because they don’t want him too. Keeley’s the only one who stuck around. Did you know she’s a surprisingly great babysitter? Even kicks around a football in the yard with him.” 

Jamie makes a surprised noise. It’s hard to picture Keeley in that exact situation, but not hard to imagine her doing anything that her friends needed.

“Anyway,” you continue, “I get if this makes things weird. You don’t have to get us tickets to the match. Liam’s still pretty little anyway… always taking bathroom breaks and needing snacks.”

“The owner’s box would be perfect,” Jamie blurts.

That isn’t the reply you were expecting, so you’re silent for a moment as he continues, “I mean… It’s easy to get in and out of, Rebecca’s got a fridge and a restroom…People bring their kids all the time. He’d love it. I’d love it,” he finishes.

You’re not sure. This is the longest anyone has ever stuck around when it comes to Liam, and you don’t really want to go to jail for murder if Jamie breaks his heart. All he could talk about for the rest of the day was how Jamie Tartt played football with him. Isaac McAdoo is is number one favorite, but you think Jamie is now a close second. 

“Alright,” you say finally. “We’ll be there.”

—

It’s past Liam’s bedtime, like way past, and he’s asleep with his head on your shoulder. Your arms are tired from holding him and your throat is sore from screaming at the Richmond match. Jamie was right, Liam loved it. He wore his McAdoo jersey and got to meet the whole team before the game. You have a picture of him on Isaac’s shoulders, smiling so big. It’s weird to think that he probably won’t remember any of this when he’s older. 

You’re waiting in a lobby of some kind for Jamie to come out. You’re leaning against a wall, feeling Liam’s steady breathing as he dreams. 

Meanwhile, Jamie’s in the locker room, freaking out. 

“Coach,” he says, wearing a hole in the floor, “how do you ask out a girl who’s got a kid?” 

“Well Jamie-” Ted says. 

“Are there some kind of rules I’m supposed to follow?” Jamie continues, oblivious. “I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to say?”

“I think-” Ted tries again. 

“Nah fuck it, I’m just going to ask,” Jamie says.

Ted grins. “That sounds like a good plan, son.”

Jamie smiles back. “Thanks, coach. You always have the best advice.”

Ted shakes his head, still smiling as Jamie leaves the locker room.

—

Jamie rounds the corner to find you half-asleep against a wall near some trophy case, with Liam breathing out tiny snores. He swears that he’s never seen anything more beautiful, and it freaks him out for a moment. It’s…domestic in a way he didn’t ever expect his life to be. 

He shakes off the weirdness and walks over. 

“Hi,” he says, unable to contain a smile. “D’you want me to hold him for you?”

“That would actually be amazing,” you reply. “My arms are killing me.”

The sight of Liam asleep in Jamie’s arms is enough to make your brain go oh shit. Because, oh. Shit. This boy is going to break your heart if you’re not careful.

“How’d you like the game?” Jamie asks as you begin to walk to the car park.

“I loved it,” you reply sincerely. “Haven’t actually been to a match since this one.” You pat Liam’s back affectionately. “Kid had a great time too. Talked about meeting Isaac McAdoo the entire match. He’s like some football aficionado in a four-year-old’s body, swear down.”

Jamie’s still smiling as he helps you get Liam into his car seat. “What’re you doing the rest of the night?”

You laugh. “Oh god, I wish I could say going to sleep. But I have to meal prep for the week while Liam’s asleep. Otherwise he gets his sticky fingers in everything. Gonna take a solid two hours, at least.”

Jamie hesitates. It’s now or never. “Could I come over?” he asks. “Can’t cook for shit, but I could keep you company.”

You pause. “Jamie- I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

But god, you want it so bad.

“I’m being serious,” Jamie says. “Not trying to mess with you. I like you. Think you’re fucking fit. I like being around you and I liked kicking the football around with Liam. He’s a good lad. I think it’s worth giving a try.”

You look at Liam. He’s still fast asleep, oblivious to his mum’s turmoil.

“Alright,” you say, still not looking at Jamie. “Let’s give it a try.”

Jamie grins and ghosts his thumb across your cheek, making you look at him.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says. “So now’s your moment to tell me to fuck off.”

You smile. “Can’t say that in front of Liam anyway,” you say as you crash your lips into his.

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Something stupid

Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Requested by @jelloangela

Request gist: Make up/ break up sex with weasley twins. Reader dumps the twins for doing something dumb. The reader passes them by a few weeks or months later.

A/N: Thanks for the request. I might have made the title a callback to a Frank Sinatra song (except the twins will be doing something stupid instead of saying their ‘I love yous’). I went for OOTP Fred and George because out of all of the stupid stuff they do, that movie almost feels like a highlight reel. I also went for break up sex but the idea that I had, I don’t know if it counts so i'm sorry if it doesn't. I also had an idea but there wasn't a spell for it, so there is now (It’ll make sense when near the end). I'm also not sure about the ending, so if it sucks, here’s your warning

T/W: break up sex (Twins are not aware of this however. Maybe more like one last fuck?), Jealous twins (really reminded me of the twins from the RDR2 stranger side mission, nipple play, groping, unprotected sex, threesome (the boys dont touch each other), just a smidge of overstimulation, mentions of burns (pretend Umbridge was more hurt than she was from the dragon)

1.7K words

Fred and George had always had a mischievous streak, even back to childhood (or so Molly told you one lunchtime at The Burrow). They always told jokes and pulled pranks, determined to be the clowns wherever they went. That didn't change once you entered their lives.

At first, the twins would pull jokes on each other, hoping to outshine the other twin for the honoured title of ‘your boyfriend’. To them, the holy grail of pranks would seem dull compared to the feeling they got around you. Before they realised that you loved them both, and they both loved you much more than any joke or prank. You had always stood by them through every prank, making them promise you that they’d be careful and whatnot.

But this time, when you saw their prank, you practically dragged them by their ears to their room. How were you not supposed to feel angry? Your boyfriends had set a firework dragon on someone high up in the Ministry, the right hand woman to Cornelius Fudge, no less. Sure she had it coming for everything wicked she did, but this could land them in bigger trouble than usual. If she twisted her influence just right, then she could even bring Azkaban into the conversation. That's how you came to be stood in front of them in their room back at The Burrow, both looking like kicked puppies while you paced back and forth. You had been going off of one since your arrival, letting them know exactly what you thought.

It was George who spoke up first, trying to ease that fire in your eyes.

“It’ll be okay love, it always is. If she does say anything, then we’ll tell Fudge about the Cruciatus curse and those quills. We’ll handle it, I promise”.

As sincere as George's words were, they didn't make you any less angry. In fact, it only made it worse. It was like they didn't care about the consequences. They didn't care that it was their word against hers. They didn't care that the woman they pranked had the Minister of Magic under her thumb. Fred decided to stop your rant with his own method.

Fred stepped forward and wound his arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him. His breath when he spoke brushed against your neck.

“Georgie’s right, We’ll handle it. Maybe we should take your pretty little mind off of it”

His lips ghosted over yours as George moved closer behind you, leaving kisses along the back of your neck. As much as you wanted to keep giving them a piece of your mind, you knew it was no use. Not only would they not learn from their mistake, they’d also know that they were your biggest weakness.

There was only one option left…

“One last time” you whispered, knowing that both boys heard you, whether or not they were listening would be their downfall.

Freds lips met yours in a gentle kiss, his hands gripping your hips. George focused on getting your top off, eager to have his own piece of you to play with. As he finally undid your bra, he pulled you away from Fred and turned you aware, so that you were now face to face with him instead. Both boys often still got a little jealous of the other, wanting more time or more attention (you’d even find one of the boys whining about how you gave them less attention, but that slowly became an excuse for more intimate attention).

George kissed his way down your throat, travelling straight down to press kisses on the soft skin of your tits. He loved paying extra special attention to your nipples, the way you moaned and pressed your legs together had his dick twitching in his boxers. His teeth grazed your nipple, making you let out a sigh of pleasure.

Fred’s hands slipped down to your trousers, tugging them down with your underwear before you could even blink. After helping you step out of your bottoms, he slowly stood back up. His hands trailed up along the backs of your thighs until he cupped your ass, kneading the flesh of your backside. George looked up at you through tufts of ginger hair, his brown eyes locking onto yours. He smirked, his teeth still caressing your now sensitive nipple. He moved back up and pressed soft, light kisses all over your face. His voice was just as soft.

“We just want to take care of you, love. You worry about us too much. Let us take care of you, show you just how much we love our pretty little worry bird”

When you nodded in response, he looked at Fred. It had always amazed you how they could seemingly communicate without saying a word. Whether it was telling the other the right answer in class or telling the other what to do in moments like these. As if like being told to do so, Fred guided you back onto the bed. He sat against the headboard before positioning you between his legs, your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around your waist once more. George made his way between your legs, his cock already out and already hard. He ran his tip through your folds, enjoying the way you squirmed in his brother's arms. George pushed his cock in slowly, only stopping when his hips were pressed against your own. Both boys were tuned to every sound that left your lips and every move you made. They loved you like this.

George's thrusts were deep, pushing himself as far inside you as he could. His hand came down to rub quick, precise circles on your clit. Fred held your trembling body, stroking your cheek as he whispered sweet praises in your ear.

As you got close and closer to finishing, the boys upped their game. George's fingers became firmer on your clit and Fred’s hands moved to grope your tits, giving you that last push over the edge. Your walls squeezed George's cock, making him groan at the tight fit. His orgasm caught him by surprise, he gripped your thighs tight as he came deep inside of you. George stilled inside of you for a moment, collecting himself. When he pulled out, however, you found yourself being pulled up Fred’s chest, his cock nestled against your pussy. His breath fanned across your ear.

“Can you go again, love?”

When you nodded, he positioned himself at your entrance and pushed in. You whined and buried your face into his neck, you were still sensitive from George. Fred’s hips bucked up into yours, stuffing his cock into you again and again. His hold on you tightened, keeping you pressed close against him.

George was sat on the side of the bed, his eyes trained on your face. He reached his hand out to stroke your cheek. You were lost in the pleasure from both of them. Everything blurred together. One thing that guided you through was your quickly approaching orgasm. Before you knew it, you were cumming again. Your juices soaked Fred’s cock, causing it to slip out of your pussy. Desperate to get off, Fred’s hand came down to finish himself off. His cum landed on your abdomen until he collapsed back against the headboard.

Before either boy could start the aftercare as usual, you were off the bed and wiping away the cum with a nearby tissue. The twins looked at one another with a confused expression.

When you quickly got dressed, Fred got up and put his hand on your arm.

“Love, where are you going?”

You stood your ground, fighting back any emotion that could let them back in.

“One last time. You both crossed a line. I love you both more than anything but that ‘prank’ was dangerous. Sure, she was horrible, but 2rd degree burns? Is everything a joke to you? You need to grow up and realise that life isn't one big playground for you to prank”

Knowing that they would try to stop you from leaving, you bolted. And with that, Alice left wonderland. Leaving Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee confused, hurt, and alone.

____________________________________________

Days turned into weeks. Those weeks dragged on into months. With school over for you, you had no reason to bump into them. They had tried to write to you. They had tried to visit too, but you avoided them. Crying over one boy is upsetting, crying over two is heartbreaking.

An investigation was raised into the attack on Umbridge, if you could call it that. But surprisingly, she dismissed it. You had asked a few old friends from your Hogwarts days but heard different stories. All revolving around centaurs. Strange. Life was almost back to normal, apart from the absence of two redheading twins who still had their names engraved on your heart. You didn't know what had become of them since leaving Hogwarts. You tried to avoid all news about them.

But it was like fate.

The day you visited Diagon Alley, there was a new shop. So bright and colourful. A bright orange. You were drawn inside before you got a look at the sign. Maybe if you had seen the name ‘Weasley’ on the sign, you might have walked the other way. The walls still smelled of paint, the products looked freshly packaged before being displayed. The whole thing was like a memory. Tiny bits of deja vu just calling to you.

The two dumbfounded men on the staircase staring at you.

It had been months. They hadn't seen or heard from you in all that time. They didn't know how to apologise for something like that. They never apologised for their pranks, at least not sincerely. But they had too this time. That prank had cost them you, and they would swear to quit if it meant getting you back.

The twins looked at each other once more and nodded. George whispered a spell and watched as a small butterfly appeared from thin air before their eyes. The winged beauty fluttered over to you, catching your attention. Your eyes followed it, turning around as it circled you. As soon as your eyes fell on the twins, the butterfly disappeared.

All those months of heartache. All those tears. Your feet carried you closer until you reached the bottom of the stairs. Both twins extended a hand to you, and you took it without a second thought.

Just like old times.

[lvckyyz]

mission accomplished | victorious

three demigods and one mission

the mission was given by hephaestus, god of blacksmiths and fire. he was robbed by two rebel cyclops who stole achilles’ battle equipment from his work place.

at the time hephaestus was working in a big project for the olympus and didn’t have time to search for his former employees, but thetis wouldn’t let him do anything before her son’s equipment was back at it’s place. the best solution he could think about was sending a mission to camp half blood and waiting until some demigods solve his problems.

» mission for a son of zeus, a daughter of athena and a daughter of nike

no one expected these three to be on the same team, but it was a special request from thetis (achilles’ mother) who thought they’d make the perfect team to bring back her son’s equipment.

poor daughter of athena found out she was going on a mission and got anxious, waking up at five in the morning to get ready and make sure everything would work according to the plan (a plan that neither zeus’ son nor nike’s daughter were aware of).

the daughter of nike wished she could have slept a little longer, but her siblings had another idea. it wasn’t even 4a.m when everyone cabin 17 were awake to start a kind of ritual to make sure she would be successful in her mission.

meanwhile cabin 6 and 17 were getting ready to go, the son of zeus didn’t look worried at all. maybe at this point he was already used to the gods asking him to do their work for them. he was taking so much time to get ready that the two girls considered leaving him behind (chiron wouldn’t let them though).

anyway, the first argument they’d have started before they even left the camp, and would only end when they came back. “who’s the leader?”, they never came to a conclusion… 🤷‍♀️

this team would have a lot of communication issues and would constantly try to outshine each other when it all started.

cabin 1, 6 and 17 are known for their leadership and fighting skills but we can say they have very different strategies that could cause some arguments from time to time.

the athena’s child would be the first to notice that they would die if they kept acting like that. she tried to make the other two behave but they didn’t pay attention to it, well…until they almost were killed by a minotaur, them they started considering that maybe she was right.

athena and nike almost set off fireworks from the olympus when their daughters cooperated with each other.

and the two girls became friends after some days, and just like their mothers, they made great fighting partners. the son of zeus was a bit more individualist and thought that a mission was supposed to be something serious, and not a “friendly adventure” like he said.

but he eventually opened up to the girls about his life as well

okay, NOW they are the perfect team. their abilities worked really well together, every monster or mythological creature that crossed their path was easily defeated.

the cyclops though weren’t that easy.

the team found them hiding in a gas station in the middle of nowhere with another one of them and two harpies.

nike’s daughter used her wings to get the harpies’ attention and flew away with them behind her to a place where the other two were waiting.

they killed them first and them went to the gas station to confront the cyclops.

they managed to kill two of them but at some point the son of zeus and the daughter of athena got hurt and they decided to just get what was stolen and go back to the camp.

success! the daughter of athena got achilles’ battle equipment while nike’s daughter was flying around with zeus’ son to distract the monster.

nike’s daughter ended up having to carry the other two until they found a bus that was going to Long Island.

back at camp half blood, they were welcomed by their siblings and chiron. they took the injured ones to the infirmary, where the apollo’s kids took care of them.

mr d. got into an argument with the nike’s daughter because she wouldn’t give the equipment to him until her new friends were feeling better.

she waited for the athena’s daughter and zeus’ son to fully recover so the three of them could complete their mission together.

thetis went to the camp herself to get her son’s equipment back and thank the demigods for their help.

there’s a big chance they kept being friends after the end of this quest.

⤷ author’s note:

yes, i’m pretending that i don’t have any request to write just so i can post this thing here☺️

just kidding, i will finish all the requests soon i promise! i’m sorry it’s taking so long, school is ruining everything😭but don’t worry, i think i’ll be able to finish some request this week!

also thank you for 200 followers!!💞

[joekeeryswife]

hello lovely! May i request a Joseph x afab reader where reader and joseph have been dating for a while but out of nowhere she gets hate from his fans (joe isnt aware) and reader wants to break up because of it? but joseph comforts her once he finds out 🥺💗

Break Up? - J.Q

hello my love! i’m writing this whilst listening to Queen #lovethem. but i hope this angst to fluff is okay! let me know how you guys found it, (kinda changed it so she’s been getting hate for a while sorry) has a few mistakes but enjoy <3

you and Joseph had been together for two years, you met on the set of Stranger Things as you were a hair and makeup stylist and somehow you guys just clicked from the day he came into your makeup trailer. you moved in together a few months ago and it was the best decision you ever made. you got to wake up to him every morning and that just allowed you guys to get closer which you didn’t think was possible. Joseph had gone out that afternoon to see a few friends and you decided to stay home, not really feeling like going out when your phone buzzed uncontrollably.

you had posted a new picture to both instagram and twitter, it was one which Joseph had taken on your date night last night and you felt really pretty so you didn’t really mind posting it. you went ‘exclusive’ with Joseph last year on your one year anniversary when he wasn’t really well known but had a few fans and at the time his fans didn’t really mind but now he was properly famous the amount of hate you got was disgusting.

these so called fans would pick apart every single thing about your appearance. how your body was, how your face looked when you smiled, how you would do your makeup. just every single thing they could find wrong with you they’d comment on leaving you with little to no self confidence. you didn’t tell Joseph, he didn’t run his social media so you didn’t have to worry about him seeing it. but in all honesty you had no idea what you had done to deserve this level of hate, there were a few nice comments scattered in the hundreds of horrible ones but the nasty ones outshined the kind ones.

you decided to look at your instagram and just look through those comments, see if maybe they’d changed their minds and decided to finally be nice but you were wrong. so very wrong. you scrolled and scrolled through the comments, tears welling up in your eyes as you read them. you wanted to look away but you couldn’t, seeing how people really viewed you just broke your heart. you never really cared about peoples opinions until now, the comments had really affected you.

‘god she is just the most ugliest thing i’ve ever seen’

‘now i’m not one to be rude but she is just disgusting’

‘why does her face look like that?’

‘how can come one as beautiful as Joseph Quinn date someone as ugly as her? i hope they don’t have kids💀’

‘her smile is so funny like why does she smile like that😭’

‘now if i was Joseph’s family i’d tell him straight, she is not good enough for him and will never be good enough for anyone.’

‘anyone in the comments telling her she’s pretty is absolutely lying, no one finds her pretty they’re telling her that to make her feel better lol’

‘girl what the hell is this, do us a favour and just delete this’

‘Joseph my love you need to get with Grace PLEASE! im begging you get away from this rat’

so many disgusting comments you could barely see with your tear filled eyes. the one last comment that caught your eye made the tears spill over. ‘why does she look like that? honestly i’m wondering how someone can look like that and wake up every morning next to Joseph. that should be Grace Van Dien not her’. you’d had enough. you chucked your phone on the sofa, hands coming up to your face as you sobbed into your hands. how can people be so cruel when you had done nothing wrong?

you couldn’t deal with it anymore. the hate and the comparing just was all too much. they were right. Joseph deserved someone better than you, you didn’t care if it was Grace or a supermodel, anyone who wasn’t you deserved Joseph more. your mind was already set, when Joseph came home you were going to end things. you couldn’t take the hate you were receiving for just existing and he did deserve someone better than you.

Joseph had no idea any of this was happening. he had seen you change recently, becoming more reserved and quiet but he thought maybe it was your time of the month and he didn’t want to impose and make you feel uncomfortable. he arrived home a lot earlier than expected, becoming bored and he just missed you. sitting on the sofa watching films whilst cuddling sounded so much better then staying out. he unlocked the front door, hearing painful sobs coming from you. he hurriedly shut the door and followed the sound of your sobs finding you on the sofa with your head in your hands.

“y/n sweetheart what’s the matter?” Joseph said, sitting down on the sofa opposite you, pulling you into his arms as your sobs grew louder. he could hear the pain and hurt in them, something awful must have happened for you to be crying like this. he’d never heard you cry as hard as this, we’ll, maybe once when you got to the end of Marley and Me but other than that never. you tried to talk but you couldn’t, to hurt from the comments.

“sweetheart calm down, take a deep breath and try relax okay? follow my breathing” he whispered, his hand running up and down your back as he tried to calm you down so he could find out what was wrong. once you had calmed down enough to talk, you pulled away but looked down at your hands, fiddling with your fingers as you tried to find the right words to tell Joseph that you couldn’t be with him anymore. as much as it pained you to do so you knew you needed to to stop getting the hate.

“i just-” you sighed, tears not stopping, Joseph watched you with a nervous look, fear filling his body. “i just think it may be best if we don’t continue this” you said, voice breaking at the end of your sentence. breaking up with him definitely hurt more than the hate comments. your whole relationship with Joseph had been beautiful, from the dates, late night cuddles, late night drives, just everything about it was perfect and breaking this off just felt like a waste.

“i- what? i’m confused.” Joseph said, heart breaking as he watched your face twist as you tried to keep your sobs at bay. “we can’t continue this relationship. i just- you deserve someone better and i think maybe you should find someone else” you said, chin quivering slightly. Joseph stared at you stunned as you played with the acrylics on your fingers. he let go of you and rubbed the hair on his chin, still confused as to where this was coming from. you had been fine this morning and now all of a sudden you want to break up? it just didn’t add up.

the room was silent except from a few sniffles and hiccups here and there from you. “y/n where is this coming from? you were fine this morning sweetheart. i need you to tell me what’s the actual matter so i know what i can do to fix it. i don’t want anyone else but you” Joseph said, turning back to you seeing a pained expression on your face. maybe you should tell him about how his fans are making you feel, he at least deserved to know that.

you got up from the chair and walked to where you had chucked your phone, unlocking it again to show him what you had been sent. you sat back down on the sofa and passed him the phone, he was even more confused now. you ushered down at the phone and then he saw it, the hundreds of comments all hating on you. he read the very few of the hundreds and his heart ached. the main ones he saw were ‘she’s just so ugly’ ‘Joseph deserves so much better than her, what about Grace?’ ‘how can come one as beautiful as Joseph Quinn date someone as ugly as her? i hope they don’t have kids💀’.

he had no idea this was even happening, his social media team had never said a word to him about it and that pissed him off. you sobbed quietly as he read through the comments, his face was filled with concern and sympathy. he turned the phone off and immediately pulled you into his chest. you were still sobbing, embarrassed from how much they had gotten to you. “alright sweetheart it’s okay. i’m not going anywhere.” he whispered, pulling you onto his lap so he could pull you closer to him. “i’d never ever leave you sweetheart. i think you’re to good for me and i don’t deserve better because you’re already the best thing y/n. i love you so much” he said, running a had through your hair.

you looked up from his neck and rubbed your eyes and sighed. “they’ve been doing it for weeks and- and it just made me feel so shit about myself and i let them get to me” you admitted, a slight blush forming on your tear stained cheeks. Joseph sighed, a sympathetic smile on his face as he looked at you. “you are the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. and i don’t care what others think about you and you shouldn’t either because they don’t know our relationship, they don’t know you sweetheart. you don’t need those lip fillers or surgeries, you’re a natural beauty and everyone is unique, nobody is perfect not even me, but to me you’re so perfect. the most perfect thing i’ve ever seen. so don’t listen to what those so called fans say because they’re just jealous.” he said, leaning in to kiss you passionately. you reciprocated the kiss, your tears finally stopping. even in the worst moments of your life Joseph was always there to help you through it and you definitely felt like he was your person, your soulmate.

[cirusthecitrus]

An interesting Hordak/Entrapta parallel i can't stop thinking about

At a certain point in their lives both of them 1) were exiled and basically sent to die by someone who was important to them and whom they fully trusted (a friend/family/god) 2) got stuck in a strange place, isolated from the rest of the world/universe, all alone (lol speaking of trauma bonds...)

Two very similar and yet very different situations. And here’s the fun part: the main difference between Entrapta and Hordak’s stories is the opposite ways in which they react to their opposite circumstances, cope with and adapt to new changes

Etheria, for all its problems, is a real place to live, while Beast Island is literally a deadly patch of deadly land where everyone dies a deadly death. And yet it’s Hordak who keeps trying to leave the place he got stuck in and return home, while Entrapta just… accepts her fate and stays to explore all the ancient tech lying around

No need to explain why Hordak spends 30+ years building a portal and dreams of his reunion with Prime. He has his moments of doubt tho, even before Entrapta became his reason to stay on Etheria “perhaps Prime was right... I am a failure” *. But after that he still keeps going, he’s not giving up. So, why isn’t Entrapta trying to escape from BI then? Why did she give up? 

She could try to build a boat and escape “Cast Away” style, with all the tech, materials and her abilities she could! And it’s not like the signal was affecting her as much to make her stay (i think, maybe the signal did play it’s part but it’s more interesting to discuss Entrapta’s actions within a scenario where it didn’t mess with her head much) Maybe she tried to save herself at first, maybe she was waiting, hoping for someone to come for her. But at some point, it seems, she stopped trying, stopped hoping. But why? Don't tell me it's all because of the tech >:(

Because what really was there for her back home? Were there people waiting for her, missing her, anyone who wished to have her around again? The princesses? No, she’s their enemy now (plus they treated her terribly even when they were on the same side so-). Her friends in the Horde? Not only did they send her on BI in the first place, none of them came back for her afterwards (in over a year), meaning it was not just a mistake. Their friendship was. She was a mistake. All what would be left for her is to return to Dryl and continue her work all alone, but how different would that be from her current situation?

Hordak too, was believed to be a “mistake”. A useless defect in his God’s eyes. And Horde Prime knows all, he’s always right, thus Hordak, despite trying to prove him wrong, somewhere deep down too believed that he was the problem and that he deserved to be treated like this. And yet he still wanted to return to Prime, still believed that he'd accept him, welcome him back if Hordak proved himself worthy. Hordak is fueled by this irrational, naive, almost childish hope. It gave him a goal in life, a path to follow, a reason to keep going. All while his blind faith and love for Horde Prime was so strong that it outshined and outweighed most if not all of the horrible memories he had from his time serving Prime (like, life in the Galactic Horde is a fucking nightmare and yet-). To Hordak, his whole life and meaning - his everything was somewhere out there outside despondos and he had to escape Etheria no matter what. And never did Hordak think that there might be life for him outside the Horde, a better life without his God (before he met Entrapta of course)

But with Entrapta, it seems, this hope was lost. Not right away, of course. Like I said, at first she might’ve tried to escape all by herself, then she prolonged her stay because of all the tech to explore and focused solely on her research. But perhaps the signal was getting louder and stronger and depressing thoughts would occupy her mind more often. That’s when the “the world outside Beast Island ceased to exist” theory might’ve come up in her head. To help her cope with the fact that it probably has been months and no one still came for her. Such an easy explanation, isn’t it? Of course no one has come for her - the outside world no longer exists! It's not like everyone has given up on her and no one even wonders where she's been all those months!

Okay this part is solely my speculations, u can call them headcanons even, but This theory could've been somewhat comforting even. It leaves the room to some nice warming thoughts - that her friends do want her back despite everything, just physically unable to reach her and get her home anymore. Just like it might've been comforting for Hordak to think that Prime could've already changed his mind. And if only he wasn't cut out from the rest of the universe, HP would search for him and come for him

But then Adora, Bow and Swift Wind show up to save her, proving that the outside world does in fact exist and so are other people, her friends she “had failed”. And if they’re all alive, that means they only never came for her because they didn’t want her back. And that’s when she could no longer resist the signal She gave up, got tired of giving chance after chance - mainly to herself. What’s the point of keep trying to befirend someone if the result is always going to be the same? In a way, Entrapta stopped living in "denial" (unlike Hordak*) and accepted “the harsh truth”

*Even those brief moments where Hordak questions his whole mission are never about Hordak realizing that Prime is Bad Actually, it's always Hordak thinking he is not worthy to return to Prime afterall. And it was the same with Entrapta. She didn't refuse to leave BI because she now hates the princesses or her allies in the Horde for how they treated her, but rather because "people who have given up on me were right" and she's not worthy to return to them and join their side (be it the Horde or the Alliance)

She made a decision to stay on BI because she was afraid of what eventually did happen to Hordak once he returned to the Galactic Horde - she feared that if she came back, all her doubts, fears and self-loathing thoughts would prove to be true. That she’s a failure and a weirdo, that she’s unwanted and despised by those she loves, that she’s a bad friend, that life outside literal murder island would be even more miserable for her 

[i swear these parralels are going to kill me one day]

The most tragic thing about Hordak’s story is that he was actively trying to leave this relatively safe place in wish to return to his cold uncaring abusive god and willingly continue living in literal hell. Because he desperately wanted to be accepted by the most important person in his life. (And was literally programmed to see this hell as the only acceptable way to live exist)

And the most tragic thing about Entrapta’s situation is that we know that there were people who were missing her, who loved her and cared for her enough to come to her rescue. Who would not allow her exile to happen in the first place had they found out sooner. But Entrapta didn't know that for sure and still wanted to stay on this deadly island. Because how was she to know that if she escaped BI and returned home, she would not be rejected or even... sent back to that island again?

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Ushijima YN:

Measuring Up to Your Twin Ushijima Wakatoshi

Ushijima Wakatoshi featuring Shiratorizawa x Ushijima YN (Fem! Reader)

Warnings: angst to fluff, reader is self-concious, Toshi is a soft boi

A/N: This is an Anon request!

The great Ushijima YN

Has a nice ring to it doesn't it?

Too bad you never hear it 😔

That's right, you are part of the Stoic Ushijima family

Your older twin brother being one, Ushijima Wakatoshi

The star of Shiratorizawa 🌟

We love that for him 👏🏻

Ever since you've been little, you're older brother had always outshined you

Especially in sports

He is left handed, you were right

He was taller than you, stronger than you and commanded attention whenever he walked into a room

It got old and fast

But being the good sister you were, you always just put up with it 😕

You knew your brother was immensely talented and how he loved Volleyball

You too loved the sport

That's why you were the captain of the Shiratorizawa girls volleyball team 🏐

And you worked hard for that title YN 👏🏻

You were the teams ace and a star player in your own right!

However, you could never seem to manage up to your brother

"YN, you could have made that. If your brother had hit that, he would have made that"- coach yells

"YN! That ball was out again, maybe you should ask your brother for some pointers"- coach yelled again

"YN is a good captain but it's obvious who got the skills in the Ushijima family"- your fellow teammate said

It hurt, and I mean REALLY hurt hearing those things

However you kept a stern, stoic face

You knew you weren't as good as your brother but you sure weren't bad

Unfortunately, consistent criticism wears on a person 🥲

And eventually it all boils over

You're only human YN and you can only ly take so much

So after a devastating loss during the prelims, you arrived at school in a somber mood

Of course, Tendou, Semi, Reon and Yamagata were waiting at your locker for you

They were always looking to cheer you up

Unfortunately their plans were derailed by one small comment

You put your books in your locker as a teammate walks by you

This particular teammate had always been jealous of your status as captain

"I can't believe we lost in the prelims! Yn really blew it. She will never be as good as her brother is. She should just give up now"

Tendou, Semi, Reon and Yamagata all look at each other then to you

They can see tears welling in your eyes

"YN hey ignore them-" Semi says

"Yeah YN, you are just as awesome as Wakatoshi"- Tendou adds

"YN it was a team effort so don't blame yourself"- Reon

Unfortunately the words sunk in and you were already in too deep

You look up at your friends, tears streaming down your face and nod

You quickly turn, running away as fast as you can before the full water works start

You managed to avoid everyone for the rest of the day, including Wakatoshi

Tendou and Semi had told Wakatoshi what had happened

He was upset that you were upset

I'm assuming it's a twin thing 😅

Unfortunately he couldn't find you all day, so he decided he would try to find you before practice

You had to return your key to the coach so you decided to go after school

You sat in the gym, thinking about all the good and bad times

Unfortunately the bad times filled your head and you begin to cry again 😢

While walking to practice, Reon happened to hear crying coming from the girls gym

He peeked his head in and saw you

Mans ran 🏃‍♂️ to the gym to get Ushijima

Ushijima was warming up but the moment he heard his sister was crying, he got up and left

Tendou 👉🏻🖐🏻👁⭕️👁🖐🏻

"Wow he never leaves practice"- Shirabu says

"His sister needs him"- Semi adds

Ushijima went to the gym and found you sittting

"YN are you ok?"- Wakatoshi asks

"Oh Toshi, yeah sorry"- you say quickly getting up and wiping your eyes off

"YN Tendou and Semi told me what your teammate said earlier"- Wakatoshi said

You look down at your feet and mumble

"It's true"

Wakatoshi is so confused 🤨

"Whats true YN?"- Wakatoshi

"You're better at me at everything Toshi. I'll never be able to beat you"- you say, now crying again

Without prompt, Wakatoshi comes up to you and pulls you into a bear hug

You 👉🏻 🧍‍♀️ 😳

Wakatoshi 👉🏻 🫂 😐

Tendou 👉🏻🥺🥲

Kawanishi 👉🏻 📱

Goshiki 👉🏻🥺😫

Semi 👉🏻 looking for the entire Shiratorizawa team 🤣

"YN you are an amazing captain. You can talk to your team without hesitation. You are nice and sweet and encouraging. I'm not any of those things"- Wakatoshi says

You 👉🏻🥺

"Plus you are amazing at volleyball. Not many people can compete wirh me YN and you stay late to practice with me whenever I need someone"- Wakatoshi, still hugging you

You 👉🏻🥺😭

"Also you are the beat sister I could ever ask for"- Wakatoshi says

Finishing on a strong note 🤧

At this point, if you aren't a puddle YN istg-

"Thank you Toshi. You are the best big brother ever"- you hugging your brother back 🥰

At this point, the gallery has made themselves known

Tendou and Goshiki are running up to you both, crying erratically

You and Wakatoshi 👉🏻😐😐 🫂

"I got it all on Video YN if you ever need a copy"- Kawanishi

"What the hell! Will you idiots get back to practice???"- Semi comes in yelling

"What do you say YN? I could use some good compition"- Wakatoshi

Goshiki 👉🏻 🧍‍♂️ 👁💧👄💧👁

You nod as you head back to the gym with your brother and Shiratorizawa 🥰

[pommpuriinn]

How Joohyung Got Scouted

🧷 this is how Eunha scouted Joohyung in 2014 when she took a trip in Daegu along with little more backstory into Joohyung’s life before joining BigHit

Author’s Note: it’s a pretty long chapter but I really love how it turned out. Thank you for reading my things guys 🫶

The whole purpose of this little trip to Daegu was to scout some new male trainees for BigHit. So of course Eunha went near the schools luckily for her there was a little festival being held right outside the school. Eunha stopped and went where all the older people were standing, maybe they’re parents or teachers. She quickly realized that every student that walked up on that stage was a girl, like every since one. Then it quickly hit that she was watching a school festival in a all girls school. “Well this isn’t the plan.” Eunha mumbled to herself.

BigHit strictly doesn’t want any female trainees ever since what happen when they had a girl group and it went down in flames. Currently they just want all boys to hopefully create another group that can be complementary to their current group ‘BTS’.

As Eunha was going to turn around to continue on her mission and no matter how cliché this is, Eunha stopped in literally 0.2 seconds and turned right around when she heard the student’s voice start singing. There stood little 15 year old Joohyung singing one of the hardest songs at that time which was ‘Chandelier’ by Sia. Eunha could tell Joohyung was nervous by the way she wouldn’t look at the crowd and sang most of the time with her eyes closed. People were enjoying it though and they would cheer whenever Joohyung did those high notes of the song.

As the the song came to an end and after Joohyung sang the final notes she opened her eyes and everyone was clapping and cheering. Joohyung speaking voice was so light and cute, so when she thanked the crowd Eunha just wanted to go over there and pinch her little cheeks. “That was one of our new freshmens, Bae Joohyung everyone!” The crowd cheered louder. She fell in love with Joohyung’s talent and she knew she had to no only talk to Joohyung, but most importantly to Bang PD. Eunha didn’t leave just yet she wanted to finish watching all the performances to see maybe if there was a group of girls just as talented or close to Joohyung’s talent maybe she could convince Bang PD about giving a girl group another chance. But as Eunha kept on watching there was some girls that had potential but she could only think about was ‘if they went together and could complement each other’. ‘Joohyung would outshine them’ Eunha thought and shook her head.

“We just have one performance left everyone so please cheer for our last group students.” One of the female students announced through her mic. Everyone started clapping and a group of five girls walked on stage and there she was again, Joohyung walked hand in hand with another student. Eunha clasped her hands together waiting for what they were going to do. The speakers started playing another western song ‘Problem’ by Ariana Grande ft Iggy Azalea. It was like faith was on Eunha’s side because it was just a dance performance and she got to see if Joohyung could dance. Joohyung was definitely the ace of the group in Eunha’s eye’s especially when Joohyung took the center when the rap part of the song came on.

“I have call Bang PD right now.” Eunha took out her phone and made her way away from everyone and leaned on a tree and watched from a far, as her phone was dialing his number.

“Hello?” Bang PD answered rather quickly. “Hey~” Eunha spoke in a kinda high pitched voice. The two go way back and are close friends so they don’t really speak formal to each other. “Oh no.” He groaned knowing something was up. “What? I haven’t even said anything.” Eunha laughed. “Your voice went high pitched I know you Eunha-ah. What is it that you want.” Bang PD already knew she was up to something. Eunha looked back to the stage and saw Joohyung finished in the center ultimately shining.

“Look, I know you sent me here to scout male trainees and all but…” Eunha just didn’t know how to word everything where Bang PD could at least consider it. “But?” He wanted Eunha to continue. She sighed, “but I found myself at this school festival and—look could you keep an open mind ok?”

“Ok.” Eunha sent a quick pray before continuing. “I found myself in a all girls school and they were having a festival right now and I found this cute and talented student and I was wondering if we could take her in and train her.” There was a quite long silence through the phone line scared Eunha. “And what exactly would we do for her?” Bang PD was a bit confused.

“Maybe we debut her in a group or even solo,” Eunha sighed and held her temple. “Look, Sihyuk please just trust me on this. She’s so talented and she could sing, dance, and she’s made for the stage. Yeah she still has a long way to go, but she’s knows the basics. I’ll even be fully responsible for her.” Eunha was so desperate. “I know we’re tight on money and everything so I’ll pay for everything that involves her just,” Eunha pleaded. “Just please let me bring her to us.”

Bang PD knows Eunha never lies to him and he has never heard Eunha be this desperate to scout any trainee, ‘she must be great if Eunha willing to go this far for her’ he thought. “ I trust you Eunha.” Eunha almost wanted to jump and squeal out of happiness. “And I won’t let you pay for everything we’ll use the company funds.”

“You won’t regret this! Thank you so much~” Eunha smiled and held her phone with both hands. “You’re welcome Eunha-ah.” He hang up and Eunha was so happy she walked with a bounce in her steps. Eunha wanted to try and talk to Joohyung tomorrow since if was already nighttime and she felt like it wasn’t the right setting for a stranger to come at you at night desperately wanted you to come miles away from home to be apart of a company. Yeah, not a good way.

The next day Eunha came around the school and right away she saw Joohyung sitting on a bench in front of the school while reading a book with her wire earphones on. Eunha turned so her back was faced towards Joohyung, she was kinda panicking on what to say and how to say it where Joohyung could even consider agreeing and go ask her parents. As she thought a bit more and was about to turn around and walk up to Joohyung a little voice spoke up.

“Hey Joohyungie~” Eunha eyes widen and took a glance. It was the other student that was holding hands with Joohyung yesterday. She kissed Joohyung’s cheek and sat next to her. “She’s dating?” Eunha was amazed at what was happening in front of her. Eunha cleared her voice and decided that it was go time and to just do it before Joohyung leaves with her girlfriend.

“Hello~” Eunha spoke in a soft voice while giving the girls a little bow. “I’m Kim Eunha and I work at an entertainment company back in Seoul, and I saw the little festival your school had and you guys were really great.” She smile kindly at them. “Oh I’m Ha Yves and this is my girlfriend Bae Joohyung and thank you.” Eunha found it extremely cute that Yves wasn’t scare announcing that Joohyung was her girlfriend. “Congratulations on the relationship you two.” Eunha bent down to be eye level with them and gave the two a little clap making Yves laugh. Eunha realized that Joohyung was very quite and haven’t spoken a word. “She’s more on the quite side miss Eunha.” Yves hugged Joohyung’s arm. “I see, but that’s alright I wouldn’t blame her. You don’t really see people like me a lot here.” Eunha tried lightly up the situation. “While I’m here because I wanted to offer you my company’s business card because I wanted to see if you could come to Seoul and join our trainee program Joohyung-shi?” Eunha held out BigHits company card for trainees.

Joohyung took out one of her earphones and looked at the company card. Eunha saw that Joohyung was just looking at the card. “You obviously would have to ask your guardian before accepting so there isn’t a rush, but I do highly recommend you trying because I really saw potential yesterday and I hope you consider it.” Eunha had hopeful eyes.

“Um…I-I don’t really know.” Joohyung finally looked up at Eunha. “It’s ok, but please keep the card if you ever rethink of wanting join and make sure to call and ask for Kim Eunha.” Eunha sighed in defeat. Joohyung still didn’t take the card and Eunha saw that, but she also saw that it look like Joohyung was battling with her thoughts with her little furrowed eyebrows. “I’ll keep it safe miss Eunha!” Yves took the company card out of Eunha’s hands. “Ah, um thanks Yves-shi.” Eunha got up. “I hope to hear from you soon Joohyung-shi and thank you Yves-shi for keeping the card for her.” She gave the two young teens and little bowed and made her way back.

Just as she was walking away she heard Yves talk. “This could be a really big opportunity for you Joohyungie!” Eunha took out her phone and pretended like she was on a call with someone. “You saw me on stage Yves I couldn’t even look at the crowd plus I’m not even that good they’re just going to drop me after a week or two.” Joohyung shrugged looking back at her book. “With that attitude maybe that’s why you need to have more faith in yourself like I have faith in you.” Yves placed both her hands on Joohyung’s cheek so Joohyung can face her.

Eunha could literally cry at the sight of those two. It was like watching a kdrama scene come to life.

“You know I still have to ask my grandma and my parents right.” Joohyung spoke in a monotone tone. “Hey at least you’re thinking about it.” Yves smiled brightly at Joohyung’s now squished face that she was still holding. Eunha thanked the heavens for Yves.

Later that day Joohyung and Yves walked home together after getting some snacks and drinks from the convenience store that they always passed by while heading home. “Are you thinking about it?” Yves asked while tossing a piece of her choco chip in her mouth. “A little bit, but I don’t think I would even become a decent idol.” Joohyung felt instantly pain on the back of her head, Yves knocked on her head. “Stop thinking bad of yourself dummy!”

“My parents are also hard to get through you know.” Joohyung listed another thing that was holding her back. “Oh I know.” Yves rolled her eyes, as she took a sip of her sweet tea. As the girls made it to their neighborhood they stopped and faced each other. “Well I’ll see you tomorrow Joohyungie~” Yves quickly pecked Joohyung’s lips. “Oh and here.” Yves took out the company card and handed it to Joohyung. “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Joohyung waved ‘bye’ and they both went separate ways into their neighborhood.

As Joohyung enter her grandma’s house she announced that she made it home and quickly said ‘hi’ to her grandma before heading to her room. Joohyung changed from her uniform to her pajamas and threw herself on her bed and stared at card and read everything that was on it. She doesn’t know how long she was looking at it until her grandma yelled for her to come out and eat dinner. “I’m coming!”

Joohyung walked into the dining area and saw her parents were already seated. “Hi mom and dad.” Joohyung went and kissed both their cheeks before taking her seat. The dinner started like usual little small talk here and there, her grandma was the only one keeping the conversation alive.

“Anything happened at school honey?” Joohyung’s grandma asked with a smile on her face. Joohyung looked at both her parents and back at grandma, “ah…yeah actually. You know how I performed yesterday for the festival-”

“You performed?” Her father a concerned face, it was a face basically saying ‘why would you do that?’. “I did and I-I enjoyed it.” Joohyung was getting nervous at this point. “Oh that’s great!” Grandma let out a little chuckled. “No it’s not mother.” Joohyung’s mom snapped. “You can’t keep focusing on something that’s not stable in the future Joohyung.” Her mom frowned. “So now just because you did a little performance and people clapped that you’re going to throw everything we gave you away just for a silly dream.” Joohyung’s dad said with frustration in his voice. Joohyung started to blink the tears that forming in her eyes, but it was getting to her so she quickly stuffed her mouth with some kimchi swallowed it and got up. “Thanks for the dinner grandma.” She stomped away to her room. Just as her dad pushed himself back to go scold her, “let her go.” Joohyung’s grandma placed her hand on top of his. “I’ll go talk to her.”

Grandma knew Joohyung needed some time to herself to just let it out so she kept herself busy was washing hers and Joohyung’s plates before making her way into Joohyung’s room. She knocked on her door, “it’s grandma.” Joohyung sniffled and wiped her tears. Joohyung kept her back facing grandma, but she could hear grandma’s foot steps get closer after she shut the door behind her. Grandma sat next to Joohyung and started combing through her hair, “you know I don’t think it’s a silly dream.”

“It is.” Joohyung hugged her Baymax plushie tighter. “No it isn’t dear. Your parents think they know what’s best for you because of their strict childhood, but they’re wrong Joohyung.” Grandma sighed and started rubbing Joohyung’s arm to comfort her. “I know you have a beautiful voice dear and I have faith in you. I always did and I always will.” Joohyung played with Baymax’s fingers while listening closely to her grandma. “Do you really?”

“Of course I do! Ever since you would give me and grandpa daily concerts whenever your parents dropped you off while they went to work. I always knew you that if you had a stage you would shine so bright that your fans all the way in back would see you shine.” Grandma wasn’t just saying that to make Joohyung feel better no. She believed in Joohyung. Joohyung slowly laid on her back so she can see her grandma, “thank you grandma.” They smiled at each other before her grandma pulled her into a strong embrace.

“Now did anything else happened at school?” Grandma asked, as they pulled away. “Actually,” Joohyung got up and went to get the company card Eunha left her. “There was this lady that came up to me and give me this.” She handed over the card to her grandma. “She came from Seoul and saw my performance and said I have potential and was wondering if I wanted to join their trainee program to become, an idol.” Her grandma looked at the card while hearing Joohyung explain everything.

“Go.” She looked up at Joohyung. “Huh?” Joohyung eyes widened. “Don’t hold back Joohyung.” Grandma shook her head. “Follow that beautiful dream of yours honey. Don’t let anyone hold you back not even your parents. Remember I’ll be always here for you, even when things get tough I’ll be here waiting to see my little Joohyung on stage.” Her grandma pulled her close and kissed her forehead.

Joohyung didn’t immediately call Eunha back she waited about a week before actually grabbing her phone and the company card, and started dialing the number. “Hello this is BigHit entertainment, how may I help you?” A polite voice answered. “Ah, um hi I’m Bae Joohyung and I’m calling to see if K-Kim Eunha is there?” Joohyung stuttered. “Oh, I can check for you but may I ask why?” The voice asked. “She um give me the company business card just in case I change my mind to join the trainee program.” Joohyung started bitting her nail out of nervousness.

“That’s quite usual because we don’t accept female trainees in our company, but I’ll still call her over for you.” Joohyung could hear the confusion in the poor person’s voice. “Thank you.” Joohyung quickly responded. It didn’t take long before a familiar voice was head through the phone line. “Oh my god! Joohyung you called I was kinda getting worried that you wouldn’t ever call—even though I would completely understand if you didn’t, but I’m way more happier that you did the opposite.” Joohyung chuckled at Eunha’s spontaneous way of speaking.

“Yeah, me too.” Joohyung agreed. “So does that mean you want to join and come to Seoul?” Eunha had her fingers crossed. “Yes I want to come join.” Eunha could literally scream of joy hearing Joohyung’s answer. “That’s great! I’ll come in a week and get you so you don’t have to travel alone since that could be really imitating for you, and of course to tell your guardian how this is all going to work.” Eunha explained. “Ok, thanks Eunha for considering me.” Joohyung said with a small smile on her face. “You have talent Joohyung I would hate to see it go to waste and for you not to reach your full potential.”

A week flew by and it was finally the day Joohyung leaves for Seoul to start a new chapter in her life. “Dear you have everything?” Her grandma called from the hallway. “Yeah grandma!” Joohyung took her suitcase and backpack to the living room. “Are you going to take him too?” Grandma pointed at the Baymax plushie that Joohyung had tucked under her arm. “Of course he’s my emotional support.”

Eunha waited outside for Joohyung and her grandma to go out and meet her, and so Eunha could explain everything that was going to happen from now until whatever the future holds for Joohyung. “Ok, well why don’t you say something before you go Joohyung. I’ll wait in the car.” Eunha patted her shoulder before going into her old car’s driver seat.

“They aren’t going to say ‘bye’ to me huh?” Joohyung kinda accepted the fact that they will and probably never will support her and her dreams in becoming an idol. “Who cares about them dear. They could be stubborn all they want, but they won’t ever crush you or your dreams ok.” Grandma encouraged Joohyung. “Ok grandma.” She laughed. “Now I want to go there and always give your 110% like I know you can, and when things get rough and you want to quit. Don’t give up my dear because you know you will succeed just always keep that drive in you.” She pointed at Joohyung’s heart. “I love you grandma.” Joohyung pulled her into a hug. “I love you too.”

They pulled away and Joohyung already started heading into the car until a loud voice caught her attention. “Hey did you forget about me dummy?!” Yves ran to Joohyung and almost tackled her down with her hug. “I just thought it wouldn’t hit as hard if I didn’t say bye.” Joohyung said, as she hugged Yves back. “It will always hit hard Joohyungie because you won’t be my girlfriend no more.” Joohyung instantly blushed, as the two adults watched them. “And don’t forget about me when you get famous and we can no longer hang out like we used too.” Yves playfully hit Joohyung’s arm. “We can always hang out Yves.” Yves shook her head ‘no’. “I’ll make your fans jealous Joohyungie.” She laughed making Joohyung smile.

“I want to thank you for everything Yves. Thank you for loving me as a friend and as a girlfriend.” Joohyung gave Yves a lopsided smile. “And for pushing me without you I wouldn’t have gotten this opportunity. So, I’ll make sure to add you onto my winning speeches.” Joohyung laughed. “See! That’s the spirit!” Yves laughed with Joohyung. “Thank you Yves.” Joohyung pulled Yves into their final hug together. “You’re holding me a little tighter than usual.” She giggled. “Cause I’m scared this might me that last time I’ll ever see you.” Joohyung let a tear fall. “Ya! Of course not Joohyungie.” Yves was trying to hide her sadness and tears away from Joohyung so it would be easier for Joohyung to let go of her. “We’ll see each other just this time you on stage and me being your biggest fan. I’ll buy all your merch and albums even the signed ones, knowing that I helped you with your signature so it’s pretty and unique.” Yves slowly pulled away from the hug.

“Now go before you leave a bad impression on first day for being late!” Yves joked, as she walked Joohyung to the passenger side and helped her in. “In all seriousness I’m happy you’re taking this opportunity and even if we don’t see each other that often no more. I’ll know you’re achieving your dreams and I promise you when I achieve my dream of becoming the best painter of all times with a hint of modeling on the side,” Yves gave a funny gesture making Joohyung laugh. “I’ll create this big portrait of you in my art gallery so the world could see how beautiful Bae Joohyung is in my eyes. I promise you.”

Joohyung stuck her head out the window, “and I promise you and grandma that I’ll be the greatest idol I can be and become worldwide name.” Yves wave her final ‘bye’ with Joohyung’s grandma as they watch the car getting smaller and smaller.

“You are just so cute even when you guys were technically breaking up, but in the kindest and warmest way ever.” Eunha placed her hand over her heart. “Ah, thanks I guess.”

“Oh I’m sorry, was that too soon for you?” Eunha took a quick glance over at Joohyung. “I mean…a little bit.” Joohyung nodded still kinda hurt about the whole thing. “My bad I just couldn’t help myself. I’ll stop.” Eunha didn’t want Joohyung to feel uncomfortable. “It’s ok. I’ll get used to it, since we’ll see each other much more now right.” Joohyung gave Eunha a genuine smile. “Yes we will actually.”

“Good because I won’t make you regret this Eunha-shi.”

[choerrypuffs]

i wish you would write a fic in which it continues off from hey angle and yn absentmindedly calls jaemin donghyuck 😌 or maybe she digs the egg instructions out from the trash and puts it back on her fridge but one day she notices it’s gone and jaemin apologizes and says he threw it away because he ripped it accidentally or something and will reprint it for you or teach you how to make eggs 🤧 we love angst in this household

i am honored that the goddess of writing herself has visited my humble blog and bestowed upon me the honor to write some drabbles for her 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

please note that this is an alternate ending to my haechan fic oh my angel! read it here 💕

matches burn after the other, pages turn and stick to each other, wages earned and lessons learned, but i’m right where you left me.

It was a moment of weakness. 

They were just dumb printed wikiHow instructions on how to fry a sunny side up egg. 

It was just a dumb plate of eggs and bacon that looked like a smiley face. 

Donghyuck was just a dumb celestial being that barreled his way into your life for a couple days before disappearing and leaving an absolute trail of destruction in his wake. 

Yet you’re kneeling, opening the lid to your trash can, and fishing out that dumb piece of paper. 

Just another piece of him that you can’t seem to make yourself let go. 

The instructions are crumpled since you had angrily ripped them off your fridge and balled them up before tossing them in your trash, so you carefully smooth out the paper on your thigh.

He used my expensive color ink too.

And against your better judgment, you hang the instructions back on your fridge—hoping that they’ll repair the jagged, sharp, and uneven chasm that Donghyuck left behind in your life.

When in reality, all it really does is serve as a painful reminder of what felt like him sharpening every feather on his wings and using them to hollow out your heart. 

.

.

.

You notice it immediately when you walk into the kitchen, as if there was an infinite black hole in the middle of your fridge. 

The instructions, which had been on your fridge for the past week, are gone. Everything suddenly looks so out of place; the magnets float around on the door aimlessly, deprived of their centerpiece. 

Na Jaemin, your best friend and not-yet-boyfriend, is cooking. When he glances up and sees you, he beams so brightly that it almost makes you forget about everything else. 

But it isn’t so bright that it outshines the glow of Donghyuck’s wings. 

“Morning!” Jaemin says cheerfully, ever the morning person. “I made breakfast. Don’t forget we have early rehearsal in an hour.”

That’s right. You’re a ballerina, a trait that used to define you as a person before Donghyuck. Nowadays, you just go through the motions as if you were one of those porcelain ballerinas in a music box. 

You muster up a smile for Jaemin before sitting down at the table. He sets down a plate of eggs, scrambled and no bacon, in front of you. 

You’re not sure if you want to laugh or scream or cry. It’s like God, or maybe even Donghyuck himself, is playing a sick joke. As if he hasn’t dealt such a cruel blow to you already. 

“By the way,” you start, trying to keep your voice from trembling. “Do you know what happened to those instructions that I had up on the fridge?” 

Jaemin pauses, trying to remember, because it’s something seemingly so insignificant that even he, who pays attention to every little detail when it comes to you, can’t recall off the top of his head. 

But it’s not insignificant to you, and you hate Donghyuck for it. You hate him because hate is the only emotion that is stronger than love.

“Oh, right,” he finally answers, “I opened the fridge door this morning, and it just fell off, so I just threw it away since it was all wrinkled and it had some kind of stain on it. Sorry, I didn’t know you needed them. I haven’t taken the trash out yet, I can get it for you.” 

Jaemin looks so guilty that you start to feel guilty yourself. 

“I don’t need them,” you lie, “not anymore.” 

“Are you sure?” he asks—because he’s kind. Jaemin is kind and caring and sweet, and you know he’ll be good to you for the rest of your life. 

So why, why do you keep thinking of him?

“Yes,” you choke out. 

“What were they for anyways?” 

“Sunny side up eggs.”

“You could’ve just asked me,” Jaemin laughs, and it’s a wonderful laugh—like a warm spring breeze. 

But you long for snowfall on Christmas.

send me a summary of a fic you wish i would write!

[memurfevur-archive]

Bottled Up

Quick drabble with Omnius over tonight's asks. It was very spur-of-the-moment with no proof reading, but his muse is very much all over the place. Enjoy?

======

Omnius stared at the bottom of the bottle. No matter how much he drank he couldn't drown out those faceless accusations. Instead, he only felt two things: confusion and anger, which were never easy things to grapple with when his mind was in a haze. His face felt hot and his eyes stung; tears? Were these tears on his cheeks? Why must he cry in his place of power?

With a growl, he threw his glass against the wall where it shattered. A sob then tore from his throat as he spun around in his chair and hunched over his desk, his head in his hands clutching his hair.

"I am not Liorre," he muttered, and he kept repeating this as if to pacify himself. It didn't work.

It was times like these where he wished he could go to either Kulsot or Erik, but neither were close by. There was Soliel, but Omnius felt shameful at the thought of standing before the child like this. She shouldn't have to see him drunk. She shouldn't have to see him angry. He didn't want to scare her. Funny, wasn't he scaring everyone else? And suddenly, he felt trapped within his own mind. He wanted to scream, to shout, to cry, to demand an answer; why was everyone attacking him? Why did everyone pretend to understand him and then turn around expecting him to be something Alternia could never make him be? This was an eat or be eaten world; Erik knows this, Kulsot knows this, the faceless claim to know, and yet....

"Does no one want to see this damned world changed? And what does it matter that... that I care for him still? That I need him still for my plans?" What plans? He couldn't come up with an answer for that. There was no use chasing after Rutaci other than to fulfill his own needs, but what were these needs?

"He left me." And that he did. Every little pale crush has come and gone, some from a bullet and others in wisp of smoke. Erik will be next, but not if Omnius never calls them official. Erik won't leave him if there's nothing to leave, after all, isn't that right? And Rutaci? Well... Omnius knows his way around a silver tongue, he just needed the silver to outshine the gold. Would having Rutaci back replace the betrayal Omnius had felt? Would having him back make him feel better for what he has done? He didn't know these answers, making him powerless.

He pulled out his phone and pulled up a message.

Masuni. I'm drunk.

How uncharacteristic of him. It was not long before Masuni responded back.

Is something wrong?

I can't do this.

?

I need a friend, but I don't know who that is anymore. Will you be a dear?

We can unpack that in our next session.

I don't want to unpack. I just want to be told what is wrong with me.

Omnius paused at that, hesitating to send it; he ended up deleting it all and tried again.

When?

It took a while. Omnius slowly counted the minutes. He could feel his skin crawl, hyper aware of every goose-bump and hair on his arms. For a moment, he thought Masuni had given up on him too, until his phone buzzed again.

I'm booked until next week, but see me after hours tomorrow and we can work everything out.

Worried? No. Omnius knew Masuni wasn't worried about him, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that the therapist hated him. Masuni was only curious. That's a good lad, never form attachments.

I will see you then.

Maybe he was a bad guy, but didn't everyone know that already?

[astrox]

Requested by @sanemisfav

Fem oc (Ikeda Shinyu) x Sanemi Shinazugawa

tw//: MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS, angst with a happy ending, Sanemi compares Shinyu to Kanae, detailed description of injury, near death experience

word count//: 3616 words

With love comes great pain. For Shinyu Ikeda, her lover feels the need to compare her to the past. The past named Kanae Kocho, who Sanemi loved before she sadly met her end on the battlefield. No matter how hard Shinyu tried to live past Sanemi's neverending comparison, the subject always found its way back into their heated arguments. The beautiful and kind Kanae was perfect in every way. Everyone including Shinyu loved her. Although Shinyu missed Kanae dearly, she was sick of having to hear it repeatedly as if she did nothing right in Sanemi's eyes. It makes her sick to her stomach when her mind begins to cloud with unwanted thoughts.

"Am I not good enough for him?" She would ask herself in front of Kanae's grave as she cleaned the headstone from top to bottom. Shinyu made sure Kanae's grave outshined the others and replaced the old flowers withering away. "If you were still here, Kanae...maybe you could slap some sense into him. I'd love to see that," 

One evening was Shinyu's final straw. The two had returned from a long draining mission and reached the butterfly mansion. Both have been disputing the whole way back, arguing about their battle with a demon that could've been handled by one hashira. Without her knowing, Sanemi interfered with Shinyu's mission and refused to let her join the fight. Not one to stay on the sidelines, Shinyu cuts in resulting in an injury on her left arm, adding to her collection of scars. In the end, no good came out of that fight only anger. 

Shinyu had stitches done on her arm whilst she and Sanemi glared each other down as if they were staring death in the eyes. The poor Kakushi in the room witnessed the couple tear each other down with their remarks. It would take them hours for the atmosphere to simmer down—or until Shinbou shows up at the door.

Shinyu's treatment ended once Shinobu prescribed her an ointment to fight off any infections. The brunette thanked Shinobu wholeheartedly, with a bow and her head looking down at the floor—surprisingly as did Sanemi. He stayed quiet for the moment out of respect for Shinobu, however, on the way to his estate, his body stops in the middle of the path when a sentence leaves Shinyu's mouth.

"You're worrying over nothing, Sanemi,"

The white-haired male spins on his heel, gripping the handle of his sword. "Over Nothing?! What's there to worry about when you're running headfirst into a fight you clearly can't win on your own? Do you have a death wish or something, Shinyu?"

"A death wish?! Are you serious, Sanemi? I was doing my job when you interfered and now-" Shinyu's jaw drops slightly, clearly offended by Sanemi's words. "-you're underestimating my strength as a hashira when I've been a hashira long before you!"

"I'm not underestimating you! I'm just saying you're reckless in battle and you're lucky I showed up in time and saved your sorry ass," Sanemi argued, taking Shinyu back. Irritation formed on Shinyu's face. 

"First off, I didn't ask for your help! I could've killed that demon on my own if you weren't in the way," Shinyu claimed, folding her arms over her chest and taking precautions for her injuries. 

"Oh please, Shinyu! If Tomioka or Rengoku saved you from that demon you'd be grateful but when I do it suddenly I'm the bad guy!" Sanemi yells. 

"Yes! because you didn't let me in on my fight! It was my mission! Mine!" Shinyu snapped, losing her temper and closing the gap between her and Sanemi. 

Silence takes over, only the sound of crickets in the bushes and trees. The sun had set leaving little to no light around the couple. Shinyu stands before Sanemi, still expecting an answer. Time is wasted and his silence heightened her insecurities as she wondered about her worries. A shadow is cast over Sanemi eyes and not wanting to jump to conclusions, Shinyu steps back and then sighs.

"Am I that weak to you, Sanemi? Or do you not trust me to fight on my own? Is that what this is all about?" Asked Shinyu, her voice sounding calm and collected but inside she was fighting the urge to cry. She bit down on her quivering lip. "I love you Sanemi more than anything, but you have to talk to me. Tell me what's wrong so we can fix it together."

"Why should I have to explain myself to you?" Sanemi mumbles. 

"Huh?" Shinyu hums. 

"—You're not her," Sanemi mutters, catching Shinyu off guard. If she didn't think over his words she would've missed that last part. After all her efforts, Sanemi didn't take her troubles into consideration. If anything she felt betrayed and the unwanted hate for Kanae starts to grow. This was the moment when she finally had enough.

"Her?" Shinyu repeated, lips forming a frown upon realizing who Sanemi was speaking of. "You mean Kanae, right?" 

Hearing Kanae's name, Sanemi gasps seeing Shinyu's brows knit together in anger. The woman before him now is fuming—disgusted even. He's never witnessed her so pissed before and seeing that he starts to regret his words. However, it wouldn't be enough if he kept mentioning Kanae at every chance he took. 

"Every time huh?" Shinyu whispered. 

"Shit! Shinyu I—" Sanemi's hand twitched as he reaches for Shinyu's. Instead, Shinyu's hand quickly dodges his and slaps Sanemi hard across the cheek. He yelps, eyes widening in shock after feeling the force of the slap—Shinyu's anger that she hid beneath her love for him. 

"Let me guess you're gonna say the same thing over and over again. 'Oh, Kanae would never let her guard down in a fight' or 'Kanae is so perfect and Shinyu can't compare'." Shinyu said, mocking Sanemi using the words Shinyu could recall from their past arguments. 

"After all this time, you're still the same. No matter how hard I try. You still compare me to Kanae...my friend-" Shinyu spoke, the pent-up anger inside of her exploded and the hand she slapped him with started to sting. "-I'll never be enough for you right, Sanemi?" 

"I gave you everything I had but still...it was all for nothing," Shinyu wails into her hands. She clutched her haori when the itchy sensation in her throat and her trembling lip had her crying uncontrollably. Sanemi covers his cheek, listening to Shinyu's cries. He wished to comfort her although he already imagined a terrible outcome. 

"Shinyu I'm sorry-" 

"Save it!" Shinyu cuts him off, walking around him. "I'm going back to my estate," 

Hugging her arms, Shinyu walked back to her estate in silence. A steady stream of tears rained down her cheeks and stained her uniform top. The wisteria petals littering the path acted as her guide and the cold wind brushed her skin. Sanemi on the other hand watched on in shock. He didn't mean for this to happen. It was all his fault and now he's losing the woman he cared about most in the world. How could he be so stupid? 

"Fuck," Sanemi whispered, combing his fingers through his white locks. Crouching down in the middle of the path, tears of his own started to brim in his tear ducts. "Fuck!" 

Days turned into weeks, and Sanemi appeared on Shinyu's doorstep begging for her forgiveness. Shinyu would sit on the other side of the door, ignoring her lover's pleas as she cried into her hands. Sanemi would express his love for Shinyu, with words he claimed to be from his heart. His claims tugged on Shinyu's heartstrings and despite that, Shinyu stood her ground. One apology after the other ended with Sanemi walking away, leaving Shinyu her favourite food and flowers behind as gifts. Those gifts were given to her tsuguko's. 

Shinyu continued the silent treatment at every hashira meeting, departing from the room before him every time. No matter where they are, Shinyu avoids Sanemi at all costs. Accompanying her nowadays is her new tsuguko Akio. Akio despised Sanemi the minute he heard of what Sanemi had done. 

"Permission to kill him for you, master," Akio asked, gripping the hilt of his sword. 

"That's enough, Akio," Shinyu shook her head, leading a cranky Akio away. 

With the hashira training, tensions were rising as Akio assisted Shinyu in training alongside the lower ranks in hopes that she would become more robust. In order to unlock her demon slayer mark, Shinyu worked her body to its limits. All was going well, Shinyu's part of the training helped not only herself but her comrades even Sanemi's little brother, Genya. Almost the complete opposite of his brother, Genya turned out to be a very kind-hearted boy who was desperate for Sanemi's approval as a demon slayer and becoming a hashira. 

Shinyu felt sorry for Genya once the boy admitted his struggles. Although he can't use breaths or wield a sword like sanemi, Genya tries for him. Shinyu sees herself in Genya, constantly changing to keep Sanemi's eyes on her. A useless tactical which wound up with Shinyu getting hurt. Training Genya, Shinyu wished she could share these moments with her little brother Shizen. Then again she wouldn't want Shinzen to live her life, not a second or a moment more. 

After her training with Genya ended, Shinyu sends him to Sanemi's estate since it was closer. The brunette hoped that their conversation gave Genya hope when it came time for him to approach Sanemi.

welp...Unfortunately, Genya's attempt didn't go well. News spread about a squabble at the wind estate. The fight between Sanemi and Tanjiro turned into an all-out brawl that spanned ages. Shinyu caught wind of the brawl from Akio and a new rule that Tanjiro and Sanemi must stay far away from each other. 

"What an idiot," Shinyu chuckled, walking along a path back to her estate after visiting the butterfly mansion. Distracted by the sounds of nature, Shinyu wanders in silence and follows the track. However, she would come face to face with a familiar face. Her body froze seeing an annoyed Sanemi stop right in front of her. His annoyed expression disappears upon locking eyes with Shinyu's. 

"Shinyu," Sanemi spoke first. Hearing her name, Shinyu unexpectedly feels her emotions begin to overwhelm her along with a heavy feeling in her stomach.

"I-i should go," Shinyu stammers, turning on her heel to flee the wrong way. 

"Wait please-" Sanemi pleas, catching her right wrist in his hand. Shinyu is forced to stop mid-step as Sanemi soften his grip on her wrist. "I just wanna talk-" 

"I have nothing to say to you Sane-" Shinyu shouts, yanking on her arm. 

"You don't have to say anything just hear me out for a few minutes then I'll leave you alone," Sanemi cuts her off and manages to stop Shinyu's tugging altogether. The young woman settles, facing the ground before her. Shinyu refuses to look at Sanemi while he sighs in relief.

"I know you hate me and whatever I say might not change a thing between us. Even now, I'm the last person you want to see-" Sanemi starts, rubbing his thumb along Shinyu's scars. The man withers, unable to keep his emotions in check. "Living without you forced me to understand that you're the only woman for me. I shouldn't have turned you away after all you've done for me. You loved me even when I moped around like a damn fool," 

"I'm so sorry for everything, Shinyu." He apologizes in a cracking voice, bowing his head apologetically. "I don't deserve your forgiveness but I need you to know that I love you more than anything. Always have and always will." 

Shinyu's lip quivers hearing Sanemi sniffle. In all honesty, Shinyu was fighting the urge to cry from Sanemi's words. She remembered the last part, they were her words. 

"Let me go Nemi," Shinyu orders softly, her voice shaking. Sanemi complied, letting go of her hand and stepping back to give her space. Shinyu cups a hand over her chest, calming her beating heart. After so long, Sanemi feels at ease seeing Shinyu without her running away. Shinyu notices as well. Finally, she faces her lover and for the first time in a long time, she catches a glimpse of Sanemi's sense of guilt. The darting glance is what stood out to Shinyu a lot. 

"I can't forgive you yet," Shinyu confesses. 

"I know and I'll do whatever it takes to earn it," Sanemi claims, earning a small smile.  

"Even if it takes a hundred years?" Shinyu asked.

"In this life and the next. I'll do it over and over again if I have to." Sanemi declares. Shinyu's heart skips a beat and her cheeks flushed a light pink. 

"Well, when you put it that way-" She chuckles, unaware of Sanemi looking over at the long grass standing beside them. His hand swipes something out of the grass and is revealed as a demon eye. Shinyu's eyes fall on the body part in disbelief.  

"What the hell is this?" Sanemi questions crushing the eye to dust.  

"Crisis at the Ubuyashiki estate! Crisis!" Screamed the Kasugai crows belonging to Shinyu and Sanemi. In a flash, the couple sprinted towards the Ubuyashiki estate, scared for their master and his children. 

'Oyakata-sama! Please be okay!' Shinyu said internally. 

This brings us to now...

The battle took a turn once the demon's fortress collapsed. All the uppermoons were exterminated leaving the demon king to fend off the demon slayers before sunrise. With Muzan standing in the centre so much blood had been shed for the age of demons to be put to an end and those who lived sought out revenge. All hashira gathered as the demon slayer crop strongest force. Shinyu appeared on the battlefield alongside Mitsuri and Obanai, covered in scratches and bruises. 

Throwing attacks left and right seemed useless if Muzan regenerated after every strike. Shinyu's mark made an appearance as she fought within the infinity castle after she confronted Muzan. A deep cut on her side had her blood seeping out. 

"Keep attacking!" Giyu shouts. 

'Don't lose consciousness! Keep fighting Shinyu!' Shinyu mentally screams at herself.

Muzan sends a brutal attack while displaying his cowardly nature and attempts to flee. Shinyu merely avoids the attack and chases after the demon. Akio, Shinyu's tsuguko and other lower ranks pounce at Muzan, swinging their swords or diving in front of the hashira to protect them. 

"Akio!" Shinyu screams when Aiko takes a heavy hit for her. The strike was deadly, slashing him across his back. "No! Akio!" 

"Don't die master-" Akio gasps out with his final breath. Shinyu wails.  

"You're next hashira!" Muzan laughs, appearing in front of Shinyu. Time moves slowly as Muzan's demonic figure is ready to cut her down. His arm whip is flying towards her leaving her no time to react. Before Shinyu could meet her demise, gyomei's chains wrap around the demon king's neck meanwhile, Sanemi swipes Shinyu out of the way bridal style.

"Sorry, we're late everyone!" Gyomei shouts. 

"We got lost along the way!" Sanemi yells. 

"Sane-" Blood spills out Shinyu's mouth and splashes onto her uniform top, her haori, and her skirt. Sanemi peers down seeing a slash across Shinyu's chest that connect the cut on her side. Blood poured profusely like a waterfall. 

"Shit! Hold on Shinyu I got you! You're gonna be okay!" Sanemi curses, rushing over to the kakushi on standby. 

"Sanemi I-i put me down," 

"Save your strength Shinyu!" Sanemi orders her, putting her down on the ground. The kakushi immediately put in the work to apply pressure to the wound. Grabbing the nearest kakushi, Sanemi points down at Shinyu. "Don't let her out of your sight even if you have to hold her down, she is not allowed to fight!" 

"N-no I can still fight," The woman protests, sitting up despite the excruciating pain. 

Sanemi pushes her back down. "No more-" 

"Sanemi no you can't-" Shinyu wails, grabbing hold of Sanemi's pants instead of allowing her Sanemi silences her by pressing his lips against hers. The kiss makes Shinyu melt into Sanemi's hold, a feeling she missed so much. Sanemi lies Shinyu back down on the floor, parting from the kiss after what felt like forever.

"Stay alive for me," Sanemi tells her, resting his forehead on top of hers. "-And I promise to make you happy until the day I die," 

"-Nemi," Shinyu chokes on her sobs. Her tears blurred her vision, preventing her from seeing Sanemi's smile as he retreats to join the fight. Fighting off death with all her strength, the poor girl's eyelids grew heavy. 

"Don't lose consciousness Ikeda-san!" 

"Ikeda-san!" 

"Shinyu!"

Waking up in the darkness, Shinyu feels around her body for wounds but felt nothing. She's okay, moving around how she normally would unharmed. It's how she remembers the fight and she figures out her surroundings. Before her is a wall of light, on the other side is what she called paradise. She already knew it was heaven and behind is a wall of flames. Shinyu immediately knew that was hell.

"Am I dead or am I dying?" Shinyu wondered, looking back and forth between heaven and hell. "Where's everyone else? Is Muzan dead?"  

"Mom....dad," Shinyu calls out facing heaven. "Are you there?"

No answer so far. Shinyu calls them again and again. No one answered her calls and it was clear to her that no one would respond unless she picks a side. The brunette pressed her hand on the wall of light which passes through. She continues pushing until her elbow is inside. Clouding her mind is Sanemi's promise and her little brother. 

"I promise to make you happy until the day I die," Shinyu says loudly, pulling her hand back. Just saying that put a smile on her face. Moving away, Shinyu chuckles. 

"I can't die yet...not like this," Shinyu laughs, reaching for her sword. "I have someone waiting for me and a little brother who needs me too. I can't leave them behind," 

Once the kakushi bandaged off Shinyu's wounds after stitching them closed, Shinyu's body shot up off the floor. Still, under the effects of the mark, Shinyu uses the curse to forfeit her lifespan in exchange for more power. As a bearer of a mark, Shinyu gained the ability to see into the transparent world. With it, she can see through one's body to track their movements and predict. Seeing into the transparent world, Shinyu notices the world around her moving in slow motion.

Adding to her newfound speed, Shinyu leaps over Tanjiro slicing off one of Muzan arms. Zipping around the demon, Shinyu cuts off another arm thus annoying Muzan. Focusing on Muzan's vital organs, she's able to locate them for an instant and pinpoints his weak points. Shinyu assists Tanjiro until the boy has him stuck to a wall using sun breathing. Shinyu jumps over Tanjiro, pinning Muzans head to the wall with her sword. 

"Hold him there Tanjiro!" Shinyu tells Tanjiro. 

"Shinyu-san!" Tanjiro smiles. 

Taking one of Muzan's arms is Mitsuri. The pink-haired girl screams as she tears off the arm as the other is stabbed by sanemi's sword. Obanai jumps in front of Tanjiro, protecting him from Muzans mouth. 

"You idiot I told you to stay down!" Sanemi shouts at Shinyu. 

"No! If I'm going to die I'll die in battle beside my comrades! not on the sidelines!" Shinyu argues, pushing her sword in deep. Seeing the sun peering over the mountains, a wave of relief is washed over demon slayers. Muzans eyes widen in fear, sending the ones holding him down flying with a shockwave except for Shinyu. Suddenly Shinyu is pulled off the demon's head and thrown through a window, finally rendering her useless. 

"Shinyu!" 

1 MONTH LATER 

Waking up, Shinyu finds herself tucked in the comfort of her infirmary bed. She sees the sun streaming in through the opened windows and a cool breeze grazing her face. Groaning, she shuffles, moving her body to a sit-up position. She takes notice of the injuries on her stomach and peeks at the bandages on her arms and fingers. She looks all over and sees a figure sleeping beside her cot. Arms crossed over his chest, Sanemi's body leans against the back of his chair while he rested and reaching over, Shinyu pokes the man's forehead. 

"Mhm," She heard Sanemi stir in his sleep so she pokes him again. When his hand grabs onto Shinyu's finger he opens his eyes seeing his lover smiling at him. 

"Shinyu," Sanemi whispers, tears running down his face. 

"Hi Nemi," Shinyu greeted, feeling her own tears forming in her tear ducts. Sanemi couldn't hold back, he lunges for her and wraps his strong arms around Shinyu. Shinyu hugs him back, ignoring the pain in her stomach. She cried into Sanemi's shoulder, tightening her grip. 

"You idiot! I thought I lost you," Sanemi mumbles into Shinyu's shirt. 

"I'm here Sanemi...I'm right here," Shinyu reassures him, kissing the top of his head. For a while, the embrace had no intention of ending. The couple shared their love through warmth and tears. With the time they had left because of the mark, Sanemi stuck to his promise to make Shinyu happy through Genya's final words. To live is what he told Sanemi and that's what Sanemi did. Shinyu had forgiven Sanemi the moment Sanemi had asked her to marry him a few months after the death of Muzan. They were wedded in Shinyu's hometown after Shinyu reunited with her little brother. 

After Sanemi and Shinyu's demise due to the mark, their love brought their reincarnations together in the future. They won and earned a peaceful life in a world without demons.

authors note: my bad for taking so long pookie &lt;3 likes & reblogs are appreciated &lt;3 if you see any grammar mistakes...keep that shit to yourself

[ostellaria]

glimpsing the stars

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ࿐ྂ Vennessa attempted to talk to Emmeline during the walk. “How did you come to meet Venti?” She probably thought Emmeline didn’t know just who exactly he was. She did.

“I walked up to him last night.”

The wind was different that night. It was the first thing Venti noticed. It was hard to ignore such an ominous sign even when all he should be doing was celebrating—celebrating the victory of Vennessa. His dear friend lectured him about his odd paranoia when he came by to talk about it.

“Barbatos, the threats you speak of have been quelled; you have no reason to worry,” Dvalin said, having mulled over Venti’s concerns long enough. “Be there for your people as their Archon.”

Venti chuckled, tipping his head back. He failed to hide the fatigue of his thoughts from the dragon, who paid rapt attention to his response. “This is different,” the Archon repeated. 

Dvalin let a few moments of silence go by, thinking to himself. What response would ease the burden on his friend’s shoulders? It was an easy conclusion to come to. Venti cared most only for one thing. Something that made him all the more worthy of the title Archon . “If it threatens the safety of the people, I will be there to protect them.”

“Thank you, Dvalin.”

Still, his concerns loomed over his figure as he sang tunes and collected dues from tavern-goers. Venti slowly filled his arms with bottles of liquor, and he was thankful Vennessa was busy entertaining the citizens of the city to talk to him. If she saw what he was doing, he didn’t know how she would react.

Ah, well, anyone would be disapproving if they saw their friend drink unhealthy amounts of liquor! But Venti wasn’t human, so no one should waste their time worrying about him. In the middle of another bard’s performance, Venti took the time to slip away, alcoholic drinks in tow.

He didn’t have a permanent abode in the city, but he knew where he could keep his companions for the night. Somewhere the breeze would greet him warmly. In the cold of the night, the wind would provide him with warmth, for it blew from the hearts of the people in Mondstadt. Their hearts were warm from the victory attained against their oppressors.

Then, silent footfalls shattered the silence of the brief reprieve he had from his paranoia. No one should be at Starsnatch Cliff. Not this late, and not when the city celebrated. Venti pouted, putting his quarter-empty bottle of liquor down and masking himself with cheer.

His braids followed his movement as he turned his head to the one who dared disturb him. Normally, out of mere courtesy, no one would share the space of someone who looked like they needed it. But this person did. Perhaps it was the work of his paranoia, but Venti raised his guard against this unknown intruder.

For now, he’d hide it. “Hello!” he greeted with a bright smile on his face. A smile that can outshine the pale glow of the moon sister that laid in the sky. “Are you lost?” The news of the aristocracy’s fall should have reached the other end of Teyvat by now.

“Ah,” the person responded. A girl, though he was unsure as to why he didn’t notice it beforehand. Maybe it was the darkness. Moonlight could only do so much for sight. “I am not lost, honored bard,” she assured.

Venti hummed. “If you’re only saying that to save face, don’t worry about it, traveler, for the city of wind welcomes all.” At that, a particularly musical breeze washes by them. The Cecilias swayed and chimed softly.

She chuckled. “I am certain I am at the right place, honored bard.” Venti’s brows imperceptibly furrowed. “Unless I am disturbing you, can I keep you company? It is as you said, the city of wind welcomes all. ”

“Now what made you think I adhere to that saying as well?”

“The wind sings through you,” were the words threatening to leave her mouth. She bit them down. A chuckle left her throat. “I don’t know if you do. Is it so wrong to want to keep someone company?”

Venti raised a questioning eyebrow but ultimately said nothing.

Her eyes brightened in approval. “What is a bard doing, alone and away from where the celebration is? If I could guess, you already participated in the festivities, but surely you’ve more to entertain?” The traveler gestured to the bottles of liquor at his side.

Her words did nothing to quell Venti’s unease. Something was wrong with her, and he didn’t know what it was. He subconsciously frowned, and he only noticed when he saw her face shift. It made her look less suspicious, and more like everyone else—a human.

Venti decided to yield, feeling a headache coming on with how much he wanted to doubt a seemingly harmless-looking person. “You can keep me company,” said he, turning to face the seas once more. Then, quietly, “Maybe it would be nice.”

Emmeline smiled, hearing Venti’s quiet words. The Anemo Archon had such a side to him, huh? She didn’t know whether to feel angered or relieved. 

Angered because both of them knew just how many died under his watch. He wouldn’t stand up and lead his people, until now. Only today did he appear to aid his people. For so long they have suffered under the aristocrats’ rule, and yet he decided to act only now.

Relieved because he didn’t have a hard heart. He kept his heart open to his people. It was how the winds blew so softly around them. Like wholehearted affection. Much unlike the Geo Archon upon their first meeting.

She sat beside him, bringing her knees to her chest and resting her chin on it. She knew Venti was cautious of her, and she was going to let him observe her. It would only be a fleeting memory for him, so it didn’t matter. Like sand, it would pass through his fingers and fade away in the wind he controlled. It was a manifestation of Fate’s interference.

“Can you tell me your name, honored bard?” She already knew what his name was, but he had never spoken of it to her, so she’d let him tell her.

“I’m Venti,” he said wistfully. Emmeline didn’t dare cast a glance in his direction, fearing the look in his eyes. It would certainly compliment his tone. Her fingers unknowingly shook.

“Venti,” she repeated. “My name is Emmeline.” She steeled herself, turning to meet his gaze. Her eyes caught the teal ends of his braids, and the same color was present in his eyes. He looked almost timeless.

What beautiful eyes he had. His vessel was also beautiful. To live in the image of one he cherished was a beautiful thing. Venti would unknowingly imprint the face of the one who was brave enough to fight against the God of Storms himself. Had Emmeline been mortal, living in that period, she wouldn’t have been able to do the same. It spoke volumes about his want to attain freedom for those around him.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Venti smiled at her, but it wasn’t genuine. She noticed the way his eyes didn’t shine alongside the faux happiness his smile radiated. It refused her current happiness, afraid that he would see her as disagreeable.

Emmeline smiled sweeter still, the corners of her lips prickling with sugar. “Your expression tells me otherwise, Venti.” She almost chuckled.

Venti’s cheeks flushed under the pale glow of the moonlight. He moved to hide his face behind his hand. Emmeline pretended not to see, moving her gaze to the stars that twinkled like snowflakes in the night sky. It looked like a permanent snowfall. The inky black depths of the sky were billions upon billions of snowflakes, while the stars were individual specks of snow, looking to find their rightful place in the night sky.

“You can drink,” Emmeline murmured absently, eyes stuck on the stars in the sky and what they whispered to her. “I won’t stop you.” She noticed he’d been trying to drink before she so rudely interrupted him. For what reason, she didn’t know. But if he escaped from the festivities just to drink, then he must have really wanted to.

Celestia was immutable. As a movement, it was unhindered. As an entity, it was terrifying. They even instigated an Archon War a millennium back. Maybe it was because someone rebelled. Some thing saw this world for what it truly was, and in their anger, they retaliated against the entirety of Teyvat. As much as Emmeline wanted to know Celestia’s secrets, there were still things she could not know.

Celestia was a threat to her. Becoming foolish would be her downfall.

Despite an event meant to cull, the Archon War only gave Celestia more eyes. Those gnoses within the hearts of those who lived were proof of Celestia’s hold on them. They were more shackles than a source of immense power. The gods were chained down by duty and the watchful eye of the Heavenly Principles.

Emmeline had been active during the Archon War. Before it, she’d even spoken to Istaroth, the God of Time. Looking at Venti, she could see their connection. Not in the form of something like a red string of fate as many mortals believed to be the link between those fated—romantic or not—but in the form of a tugging within herself. A known fact within herself that she couldn’t trace back to a source.

Venti reluctantly picked up his quarter-empty bottle of alcohol, tipping his head back and drinking.

She gingerly set her head on her palm, observing the Archon silently. To be able to drink with such abandon, even as an Archon, Venti must have a lot of burdens, a lot of thoughts weighing on his mind. Emmeline thought that letting him drink would loosen his tongue, but now he merely looked miserable.

He looked like someone who lost their way, desperately crawling back into the open arms of society, only to extract himself from it once more.

Venti still had a few more bottles to go through. Given the excitement in the main plaza of Mondstadt City, the bottles he received were reflections of the people’s glee. Listening to stories, songs, and even stories weaved into songs were the main attractions in a land newly freed.

“Why have you come out here?” Emmeline asked, fully knowing that she was also out here , her reasons much more ambiguous than his. “Mora’s going around in the city. I’m sure you’d like a part of it.”

Venti responded with his silence, opting to sip liquor instead of speaking. Emmeline didn’t push him—or rather, couldn’t, because she would gain nothing from pushing him to answer. She could always focus on the stars in the meantime. Unlike an astrologist, she couldn’t read the lines of the stars—the preordained pattern within them that spoke of Fate and everything in between. She herself was a star, for she knew Fate so closely that she would only need to think of what she needed to know about someone’s fate.

Venti’s fate was more complicated than mortals. Astrologers couldn’t peer into an Archon’s constellation, for Celestia has kept it under their protection. Emmeline didn’t know just how they’d come to do it, but to be able to do it was a feat on its own. It protected the Archons. Most astrologers are righteous enough that they’d leave themselves out of fate if no one dared to correct their mistakes. Some astrologers lose themselves in the knowledge of fate and go mad. If astrologers could see the Archons’ fates, the latter would become most and the former would become some .

In a way, that cloud over the constellations of the Archons was Fate’s intervention itself.

Venti answered her then. “I could ask you the same thing,” he said quietly, eyes downcast. He was halfway through his second bottle of liquor, and he already looked rather drunk. Tipsy was putting it lightly. Not even gods can stave off the effects of liquor on their bodies. The silence was one thing Emmeline noticed. She found herself observing the minutiae of his body language and how much it told her of his state.

Venti was most certainly drunk.

He heard Emmeline speak silently. “I guess this was what I wanted.” Even drunk, he knew what she meant. Venti’s shadowed aqua green eyes widened a fraction. His head whipped up, and he forced his brows to converge and create a crease between them. Without warning, nausea overwhelmed his senses.

“What—”

Emmeline pressed his chin between her fingers, putting the index finger of her free hand to her lips, shushing the Archon. “Look at the sky,” she whispered as she gently guided Venti’s face upward. “The nausea will pass, Barbatos .” Emmeline didn’t exactly know what came upon her for her to use Venti’s Archon name. It wasn’t taboo, by any means, but it did reveal to him what she knew. No one knew he was Barbatos. No one except Vennessa.

“What . . . ?” Venti asked again, voice soft, confused, dizzy.

“I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time,” Emmeline admitted. When she learned the story of the fall of Decarabian, she couldn’t avoid feeling curious about those involved. Most of them had died or were already dead by then, but not the new Archon. Not the wind spirit. She found her chance, and she wasn’t about to let it slip away.

Venti couldn’t even speak. He was too dazed to try. Too dizzy. He had to stare at a blank patch of sky in order to feel fine enough to stare at the stars, but he couldn’t dare stare at Emmeline again. Who was she? What was she? What did she want with him? He found no songs about her in any timeline. He knew nothing about her. How could no one have sung about her? In the past? In the future? Bards sang of every person at least once. Every person had at least one song. One they made, one others made, one their parents made when they were children.

Every person had at least one song; she didn’t even have one.

Emmeline stopped speaking when she realized Venti wasn’t listening to her. He was drowning in his paranoia. Sighing, she stared at the same patch of sky he did. Six stars, all from one constellation. Paths for selected times in the owner’s life.

“Do you know what the stars contain?” she asked, as Venti groaned from a headache that split his skull in half. “They contain futures, pasts, presents. Fate.” The person who owned the constellation could be just an unassuming citizen of a region in Teyvat. They didn’t know what would befall them. Neither did Emmeline. Neither did Venti.

If Emmeline cared about the way Venti’s face scrunched up in pain, she didn’t show it. “Your fate is also up there. Somewhere. In another view of the countless the night sky has.” Someday, an astrologist could be good enough to look at someone’s constellation without needing to see the night sky, but that day was too far.

As the day cycled, the night cycled as well. No view of the night sky was the same because of the infinite fates etched upon infinite stars. It will never be the same. Astrology was a low-reward art during this time, for existing astrologers didn’t understand the night sky. They didn’t know how to glimpse past views of the night sky. They were forced to move forward, to lose sleep deciphering every line of every star in their current view.

“It’s only almost similar to your knowledge about every song in existence.”

Venti slowly turned to her. “Can you see my constellation as well?” he asked. It wasn’t a hopeful question, for he only wanted to know if it truly existed. If he would be able to fulfill his duty as the Anemo Archon for centuries—millennia to come. The breeze slapped him in the forehead, warning him about the consequences of asking that question, but it was already too late.

Venti’s paranoia returned tenfold, and he wanted so badly to take his words back.

“I can,” responded Emmeline, turning to face him and not showing him where his constellation was. Venti’s constellation wasn’t in this view of the night sky, for it had already cycled once. What a beautiful day it was when it did. It had been the night they overthrew Decarabian. It had been the start of the rest of Venti’s fate. So, maybe he wouldn’t hate her too much if she showed him the rest of his fate.

Emmeline wordlessly pushed herself closer to Venti.

Maybe she could show him a thing or two.

She lifted two fingers into the air and tapped Venti’s forehead only once. It was a simple action, simple to the naked eye, but to Venti’s . . . it was a journey. A journey in his future. Where everything was familiar yet new, and foreign yet old. He would think he had already been through this before. He would feel deja vu .

Venti wouldn’t be able to see every single thing, only a specific event that would impact him immensely. In the future, Dvalin would go into slumber after protecting Mondstadt from a dragon, at the cost of poisoning himself with the dragon’s blood. A newly formed organization would then taint Dvalin and would manipulate him to believe in things he wouldn’t have believed in had he awoken without soaring through the skies.

Dvalin would threaten Mondstadt’s destruction, going against his purpose as a member of the Four Winds.

A Traveler would assist Mondstadt and successfully end the imminent destruction of Mondstadt in the Abyss Order’s hands. That Traveler has yet to arrive in Teyvat, but perhaps he should delay his arrival by multiple centuries, should the Heavenly Principles think up of anything unsavory. But if he and his sister are already in Teyvat and not elsewhere, then the Heavenly Principles must have already done something to them.

Poor thing. To incur the wrath of Celestia despite not being gods, was certainly an unfortunate fate. Thankfully, Fate was on their side.

“Are you awake?” asked Emmeline, but Venti couldn’t hear her. He had promptly passed out after seeing everything he needed to, and she couldn’t just leave him slumped with nothing supporting him. It would certainly be painful and uncomfortable once he awoke. However, Emmeline doubted anything could be more uncomfortable than the situation he was in. Her cheeks were flushed even now.

Apparently, Venti’s silence annoyed her, because she spoke again. “Please answer if you are, I can see your eyelashes fluttering. Do you even know what’s around you?” Emmeline drawled. She knew she was uncomfortable. Who wouldn’t? Venti was unconscious, and she promptly decided to use her lap as his pillow due to courtesy.

There was no consent involved from either side. Yes, Emmeline decided to do it by herself but it didn’t mean she did it willingly. There was no way it would be willing coming from her. It was only at most an interesting story to tell Morax the next time they met, but other than that, it was unnecessary. It made her uncomfortable. Was that necessary?

Her legs almost cramped up with how stiff she was. If it was to the point that it gave her pain, she couldn’t think of just how worse Venti had it. At least he was asleep; he wouldn’t have felt it until he awoke.

Venti groaned softly on her lap. He was still unaware of anything around him. Emmeline found it infuriating and adorable; she couldn’t seem to make up her mind about what to think of it.

“You’re like a child,” she blurted. “Sleeping like that. Although I suppose he was a child when he passed. Was he?” Emmeline was almost certain that he was a kid with a face as youthful as that. If he wasn’t, then Fate truly was looking down on him.

“Who are you talking about?” Venti asked hoarsely with his eyes now open, still mostly unaware of the things around him. If he was, surely he would point out his head on her lap and what he saw in the stars.

Emmeline looked at Venti as if he was an idiot. “The owner of your face, silly!”

At that, Venti’s mood soured. That information was known to only him. It was personal, and something that dated back to the very start of his existence. Emmeline knew that, and yet she used it for her own gain. “Are you trying to provoke me?”

“There’s not much to provoke, Barbatos . As it stands, I’m pretty terrified of you. I’m mostly powerless against you, and you have a gnosis.” Not to mention, he was able to keep Ursa the Drake at bay only just having woken up. Emmeline didn’t think she wanted to face him in a fight she didn’t want. But Venti didn’t cease his intense stare. He must have felt angry, and rightfully so. It was his memories, and Emmeline probed into them.

“You don’t look afraid of me.”

“I only don’t look it. Inside, I very much am afraid of you.” Emmeline chuckled. She wouldn’t show her fear; she’d hide it under some smiles. It was a good idea. Keep him guessing. Don’t let him figure her out. “You looked quite adorable earlier.”

Venti gasped, aghast. He shot up faster than Emmeline anticipated, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from widening. “What have you done to me?” he asked—no, demanded . He embodied the confidence only she thought an Archon would have. He sounded like a person of authority. Someone with everything yet nothing to lose.

Emmeline tilted her head. “Do I have to answer you?” She decided she would avoid answering him until he remembered what he saw. It seemed that he wasn’t aware at all that he saw something. “How am I involved at all in what happened to you?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Venti’s eyes narrowed, and Emmeline found herself giving in to her fear, leaning away slightly. He noticed, and his eyes’ sharp edges relaxed. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn’t. His mouth just wouldn’t move.

Despite Emmeline’s fear and surprise, she understood that Venti felt frustrated. Even so, it didn’t mean that his actions didn’t do anything to her. Her fingers were shaking imperceptibly and through her fists, she felt slight tremors on her skin. It wasn’t anything concerning.

Emmeline prepared to leave, pushing herself up on her toes and sighing as she stared at the stars above her. The same stars that led her to this very decision of leaving. “I’ll come to explain tomorrow,” she said, but she didn’t need to. She could’ve just left and visited abruptly the next day, and it would’ve been fine. It would’ve given Venti some confusion, too. “Go enjoy the festivities while you can.”

When Venti didn’t answer, she leaned down and took the remaining bottles of liquor beside him. “I’ll take these with me.”

The next day, Emmeline almost forgot that she owed Venti an explanation. It wasn’t her fault for forgetting. She’d gotten so used to people just immediately forgetting her after an interaction that she hadn’t considered the fact that she had some unfinished business. It was her fault, but at least she remembered. And she would deliver.

She didn’t think she got any sleep after the interaction with Venti. On her way back to the city, she caught a glimpse of a dragon flying high in the sky. Normal citizens would barely see it, especially with how dark it was, but the dragon seemed to purposely fly low around where she was. Emmeline wasn’t assuming that it was because of her, but it was still a message. The dragon was cautious of her. By announcing its presence, it made itself known as some sort of a guardian figure of the region. If she were a hostile entity, she would think twice about wreaking havoc anywhere near the city.

“Forgive me for the poor reception,” the Lionfang Knight said as she led Emmeline through hallways filled with stolen items and obnoxious portraits. Not hers, of course. It was apparent that the Knights of Favonius—as the Muratan called them—were using this noble home as their temporary headquarters. At least until the citizens accepted their organization. After the Lawrence Clan’s tyranny, it wasn’t that easy for citizens to look upon a protector group with favor. They’d obviously feel cautious.

“Don’t feel so bad about it; I don’t mind at all,” responded Emmeline absently. She was too preoccupied with the fascinating trinkets (stolen) that lined the hallway.

Vennessa attempted to talk to Emmeline during the walk. “How did you come to meet Venti?” She probably thought Emmeline didn’t know just who exactly he was. She did.

“I walked up to him last night.”

It wasn’t surprising that Venti was affiliated with someone now considered a hero in Mondstadt. Through this, he even got them a grandeur reception for a conversation they needed to have. It would mostly be Emmeline speaking though. Hopefully, Venti’s mood had improved through the night. That way, she could at least clear things up.

But how exactly would she clear things up? More things than she remembered happened last night. Unless Venti asked first due to his curiosity, Emmeline didn’t think she could initiate the conversation.

Sitting across from Venti, Emmeline was certain that she wouldn’t be able to initiate the conversation. However, she almost forgot one thing, and that thing could certainly spark up a flame for chatter. She placed a bag of Mora and some gemstones on the table. “You drink too much,” were her simple words. Last night, Emmeline had sold the remaining bottles of liquor Venti had. One bottle sold for merely a few Mora, but when she went to sell a bottle to someone drunk enough to forget they were handling Mora, she got a week’s worth of Mora and some precious gemstones she could sell too.

Venti stared blankly at the Mora on the table. Even though he had a great reception for a conversation, he didn’t quite have enough class to get piping hot tea straight from the kettle. Emmeline would guess that the tea in front of her was a day old, from an aristocrat who didn’t get to finish their afternoon tea before the city folk razed them to the ground.

“I’m sorry.” Those were the first words Venti spoke after letting her words simmer in the stale air for a couple of minutes.

“You waited an entire day to apologize.” Emmeline dropped a sugar cube into her cold tea. “I should feel annoyed; mad, even. But strangely, I feel quite fine. You handled that poorly.” She accusingly pointed her tea tongs at him.

Venti frowned.

Emmeline rolled her eyes. “I can’t give you everything. Ask away.” She picked up her teacup and took a sip of the tea. She bit through the sugar cube she put in. Emmeline saw Venti grimace.

“What did I see?”

“Don’t you remember it?”

“I do—I’m just . . .” Venti looked confused. Like a lost child. Maybe just a child.

“For an Archon, you sure are bad at piecing things together.” Emmeline sighed and leaned back. “What you saw was a vision of the future.”

“Why do you seem so casual about stating something as complex as that?” Venti asked, horror in his eyes. For him, if what Emmeline said was true, then Dvalin truly would send doom Mondstadt’s way. He couldn’t bear to think of that as fact. It was much too hard for him to face it. But Fate is Fate, and it is called such precisely because it cannot be altered or changed.

“Because it’s not. It’s simple.” Emmeline yearned to see his resistance to something that was set in stone. “Like how we breathe without ever thinking about it. Like how birds fly. It’s as simple as that.” Truthfully, it wasn’t that simple. Yes, what is preordained is simply that, but what makes up that fate consists of things that are still within our control. Those who believed in fate so shallowly don’t know that.

“How is that so simple to you?”

Emmeline raised an eyebrow. “I don’t understand what you mean. It’s not complicated.”

“That’s because you don’t understand how I feel!” Venti raised his voice. His frustration was getting the better of him. Emmeline wondered if she should continue. If she should continue being so inconsiderate and one-sided. She wasn’t lying to him. Fate was simple.

“You just don’t want to see your precious friend turn against your city,” she responded. “But consider this, Venti. No one is only ever good. It’s not a decision you will stick with for the rest of your life. You’re not good either. You just have an obligation to protect this city. Am I wrong?”

Venti dipped his head.

Thankfully, he seemed to have forgotten where he woke up last night. That was fine. Let her bear the embarrassment. Emmeline wasn’t strong, but she could take a rather-forgotten memory or two. It wouldn’t be just her though. Morax would get a good laugh out of it too. 

Emmeline yawned. She blinked incredulously at the hand that covered her mouth to muffle her yawn.

Huh?

“Can I change it?’ Her attention quickly snapped back to Venti. He only resisted her words for a little while. That meant he was mature enough to be worthy of being an Archon. 

Her brows furrowed. She knew what Venti was asking, but she was confused over her yawning. “Fate?” She never felt sleepy. Emmeline slept only to pass the time. She didn’t need it as humans did.

Venti nodded softly.

Emmeline didn’t want to lie. This particular event couldn’t be changed no matter how different the choices he’d make were. This was integral in the progression of a story yet to be told. She hated lying. But she didn’t want to tell Venti that he could do nothing for Dvalin. The dragon would suffer and Venti could only sit and watch as he did.

“You would be reunited with Dvalin after it.” Emmeline could only offer consolation to his troubled soul. “The city would have forgotten him. His anger was justified, but what he had to go through wasn’t. Direct your anger to those who would stage his suffering.” She was telling him to get mad at the Abyss Order.

Venti would have a reason to be angry at them, and he had the means he needed to retaliate. However, with how horrible Celestia’s relationship with the Abyss Order would be, he wouldn’t be able to do anything. Even anger wouldn’t be allowed. In the eyes of Celestia, the Abyss Order was an anomaly, and while it should be purged, all under the control of Celestia should act as if it didn’t exist.

To Celestia, the Abyss Order was an insignificant threat—undeserving of attention.

For 500 years, the Abyss Order would operate, and Celestia would do nothing. It was honestly insulting. Their objective was to oppose Celestia and yet their very enemy didn’t care.

Emmeline’s lips twitched. “You would gain happiness. That, I am certain.” Things would only get worse from there on out. Venti deserved some happiness after what was going to happen. Fate was calling for Emmeline, and while she would have liked to stay, she had to avoid it at all costs.

series: stories of a time long past

word count: 5.2k

author: ostellaria

[herequeerexitentialfear]

the commander and Seelahs conversation at the end of the league of the inspiring cart quest.

most of the dialog is transcribed from the game, but some of the commanders dialog has been slightly edited, Alauns inner monologue is mine apart from a few directions

He took care in his words, but let them flow from the heart, it was a line of thinking that dogged his steps, maybe she would believe his words they way he struggled to believe his own. The way she may also struggle to believe her own.

"Don't lose your trust in people Seelah, its one of the greatest skills you have. so what if you misjuged a few people, its no reason to give up on kindness and second chances. someone has to show people there's a better path, and give them a chance to take it." -a soft smile took the place of the impassioned frown-" and i cant think of a better person to do that" Seelahs expression brightens, Iomedae's rays returning to the paladin once more, outshining the sadness "thank you, my friend. i needed that support"

exert cause the first bit is mostly transcribed dialog. the full thing under the cut

Turning her face to his as he walked over, he noticed Seelah looked sad and pensive, "its good to see you commander. get this - Jannah, the one who ran away when we were attacked by demons, never went back to her unit. she was seen running towards Numeria. looks like she deserted"

Seelah moved the subject on, "since our raid on the houndhearts camp, I've had this sinking feeling that i made a mistake. dragging you into this, i mean. i should have known that a raid along the edge of the Worldwound wouldn't be so easy"

Alaun frowned, preparing to refute her statement-

She sighed, getting saddened by the word, disappointment bleeding through, at her- or those who hut her? "but mostly- i was wrong about a lot of people. about Jannah, who lost her nerve and abandoned her friends. about Curl- i knew he was a thief, but i really thought he'd turned over a new leaf and deserved a little compassion and trust. and Elan. i thought we were kindred spirits, friends through thick and thin. but it looks like i was wrong about him too"

Seelah looked closely at Alaun.

He took care in his words, but let them flow from the heart, it was a line of thinking that dogged his steps, maybe she would believe his words they way he struggled to believe his own. The way she may also struggle to believe her own.

"Don't lose your trust in people Seelah, its one of the greatest skills you have. so what if you misjuged a few people, its no reason to give up on kindness and second chances. someone has to show people theres a better path, and give them a chance to take it." -a soft smile took the place of the impassioned frown-" and i cant think of a better person to do that"

Seelahs expression brightens, Iomedae's rays returning to the paladin once more, outshining the sadness "thank you, my friend. i needed that support" she sighs with a rueful smile "thanks for listening to my grumbling, and for helping me get to the bottom of this."-her voice becoming steadier and more convinced of her path as she spoke-" im not going to leave things as they stand. if i get the chance, ill track down Jannah and see if i can talk some sense into her. and find out why Curl did what he did"

A minute tilt of his head in agreement, and a smile at her renewed determination. he would have to make sure she would have time to do so, maybe even accompany her, moral is important after all- especially that of the person taking the most hits. its easy to tell himself he would do it for any other person under his command- he has. but he would be lying to say hes invested in her quest no more than any other commander and friend.

"I cant stop thinking about what Elan told me in the end. i really became more powerful than paladins who are far more experienced and selfless than me. Theres something not right about it. a servant of Iomedae should gain their powers through dedicated personal effort. its the only way to make sure they'll use their powers for good. our journey so far- its all wrong. and it means i need to be three times as hard on myself now"

Elans words had weighed heavy on her heart, the houndheart managing to slip through her armor. And make no mistake- she was no fool- her heart may be on her sleeve, but its under chain and plate. He should have tended to the wound earlier, but respecting her wish to have time to think was the right thing- for all it let the wound fester.

And who was to say Iomedae want rewarding an experienced and selfless paladin? a mile in the dark is worth a hundred in the light- fancy words for years dont make experience, experiences make experience, and there are so many of them to be found in the worldwound. would you rather a solider at your back who was stationed at peace post for decades or a contested border for years?

More pretty words to say that he valued Seelahs experience as someone who pulled herself out of the darkness, and iomedae would be a fool not to. a preacher who doesn't understand the lives and suffering of those he seeks to help cannot help. Seelahs experience made her valuable, did she not see how her kind words and companionship weight so much lighter on Woljif than the words of other who did not understand?

He tried to meet her eyes again, to reiterate her worth, but hers had wondered. the conversation was over, as he walked away he could only pray he would not regret leaving it there.

[sos-im-bored]

Bird in a Cage

@ofmagicallonging

Seteth hated these things with an icy passion. It felt like such a waste of time. Fancy glass rooms decorated with an obscene amount gold and shiny things. It was an overhanded display of wealth. Any other room in this castle was severely less well decorated, though that was not the point. Many people danced and talked with each other. Seteth on the other hand stood, slowly sipping away at the drink in his hand. Beside him stood his half-sister wearing a beautiful intricate dress outshining many of the women in the room, her pale blonde hair done to perfection with a hairpiece with a veil attached, obscuring her face from view unless someone came up close. She had a wooden fan pulled up to her face, her nail gently scratching against the painted decorations on the fan, making a slightly annoying noise that was driving Seteth crazy. Her eyes peered out above the fan, watching over everybody in the room like a tiger waiting for prey. On the other hand, Seteth's red-headed half-brother, once dressed perfectly in a fine suit, was now close by, already leaning on a wall, parts of his suit tugged at and dishevelled as he got irritated at the formfitting fancy clothes. The young man had a poor waiter running back and forth as he downed a deadly amount of alcohol to numb the boringness of this party.

Seteth's family, once a shining beacon for honour and glory, was a shell of its former self. Once one of the duchies that was a pillar of the country, the kingdom's largest army was full of knights. Many of his ancestors, including his grandfather and mother, were given medals for service to this country. But their legacy was torn down by his father. Once that man got his traitorous hand on the family name once Seteth's mother passed, he gambled and drank away most of their wealth. Smeared their honour by not marrying another woman but fathering many more children and ripping them away from their mothers just to treat them poorly in the estate. Knight's left handfuls at a time to save themselves, leaving their once glorious house as nothing. As they all grew, Seteth's hatred did as well, so did his siblings. Their father's violence and poor treatment did nothing but fuel their hatred and rage, as well as their power. Many of his siblings grew many odd and interesting powers due to how they were raised and Seteth was no different. Once their family needed an army to level a battlefield, but now Seteth and his half-siblings could do so if they wished. But that wasn't their job. As Seteth wished to get his family back to where it should be, under him, he sold himself to the king. The king's mad dog, thirsty for blood and more than willing to do his bidding without question. It was an easy price to pay to rip his blood right from his pathetic father's cold, dead hands. It might not have restored their honour but that was not what mattered to him. Their bloody conquests stepped on many toes, especially to other families that blood and cruelty was their whole thing but with the king backing them and their general disinterest in causing problems not many people has any cause to cause them problems

His eyes looked over the ballroom, his eyes avoiding where the king and his family were. If he didn't look, they couldn't give him something to do or coerce him into dancing with potential partners. He did not know what the mans obsession with getting Seteth married was but he liked to avoid it. One family had made a bit of an interesting entrance, maybe he would have gone to talk to them but the two families had a very rocky relationship. His eyes followed the youngest of said family as they wandered past the curtains and out the glass doors leading to the garden. "I'll be back. Don't cause too many problems while I'm gone." He whispered to his sister before handing his brother his half-empty glass and walking off. It was odd for the family to let the younger one off his leash. Usually, he was kept suffocatingly close, but if they were distracted enough to let him wander, Seteth was going to take advantage of that. He knew the youngest was very powerful, definitely more powerful than Seteth and his siblings and that was fascinating. "Do you like flowers?" He asked, seeing him stop to look at some flowers. He couldn't see the man's family keeping a garden maintained, that seemed too... frivolous for them, "I don't believe we've met officially, I'm Seteth Adler. You all made quite the entrance tonight."

[silverwings22]

Caught in the Crosshairs: Chapter 6 In My Head: Jason Derulo

Series warnings: Smut, mind control, canon typical violence, childhood trauma, language, chronic illness

Chapter Warnings: SMUT, language

Mando'a Translations: mesh'la- beautiful

cyar'ika- sweetheart

Previous chapter:

Next chapter:

Taking duty on Coruscant was its own adventure. Today, it was a boring political gala none of them wanted to be at.  Especially Crosshair.  

But here Clone Force 99 was,  in their dress uniforms and Miria neatly in her nicest dress. She didn't usually dress up,  most comfortable in the leather and wool of her order… but tonight she didn't look like a Jedi.  She looked like a woman,  her striped hair pinned back and petite figure encased in a light creme kimono dress with lavender patterns embroidered into it,  and a darker purple obi wrapped around her thin waist. Her lightsaber hung on her right hip, and her flowing sleeves nearly touched the ground when she let her arms fall at her sides. There was nothing abject sexy or revealing about it,  but… Crosshair couldn't take his eyes off her.  

She was the star of a fantasy he hadn't realized he'd had until she met the team at the door of the senate building.  The second he spotted the violet pin in her bun, with a delicate dangling flower on a silver chain, he imagined pulling it out to watch her hair fall down her shoulders. He'd wrap his fingers into the silken strands and pull her head up,  til that graceful neck was stretched all the way up and he could press his mouth against the soft line of her jaw.  

Right now, she was smiling and talking quietly to some senator from Naboo, a decent looking woman with kind brown eyes and a headdress that had to be exhausting to hold up.  She looked at ease in the face, the only indication she hated this as much as he did being the way her fingers drummed inside her sleeve.  A rhythm only he probably noticed.  

Leave with me now.  Just say the word and we're gone, we don't even have to tell the others. It's crowded,  they won't even notice.  

"You okay,  Cross?" Wrecker grinned,  leaning over next to him as the sniper hung out in a corner. 

"Hate this shit. Hate the crowds." Crosshair grumbled.  "Too many people behind me."

Wrecker patted his back.  "Try to have fun.  The drinks are good, I'll grab you one."

Crosshair shrugged.  He felt out of place without his armor and rifle. He hadn't wanted to come, but Miria was required.  And since they were a small squad, she'd asked them all to come with her.  Normally Jedi would just bring their command staff when it was their turn;  commanders and captains to help them talk politicians and the rich into donating credits to the war effort. She'd said it was important work, her part in making sure he and his brothers had the equipment they needed,  fuel for the ship, and rations to eat.  

But she didn't like it,  and he could tell.  She was shy and soft spoken by nature, not comfortable dressing up with all these elite in their hundred-thousand credit suits and gowns. 

As if she had no idea how her simple embroidered cotton made her outshine every damn one of them.  He could take her somewhere, away from the hundreds of eyes, where she felt safe. He could pull that carefully tied obi out of the bow on her back.  It'd slither to the floor of a dark room somewhere, and he'd slip his hands between the lapels in front and pull it open just to get his teeth into her collarbone. 

"Here ya go, Cross." Wrecker handed him a scotch. 

"Thanks." Crosshair grumbled.  "Where's the others?"

"Tech found some engineering company rep,  and they're talking. I heard something about testing new equipment.  Maybe it blows up." The giant grinned.  "Hunter is on the balcony with the 212ths Commander. Said it was quieter."

"Probably is.  Hope no one lights a cigarra out there. " Crosshair chuckled.  Tobacc smoke never failed to nauseate his brother, and trigger a blinding migraine. Part of the reason Crosshair had quit smoking years ago,  because as fun as it was to piss Hunter off he didn't actually like to see him in real pain.  It was a paradox: the other batchers' presence annoyed him, but the idea of anything happening to them made him furiously protective.  

"General looks like she's having fun." Wrecker commented, smiling at the pretty Jedi now chatting with the chancellor.  Based on her hand motion, she was recounting Christophsis and hiding under enemy lines in a duraboard box. 

"She's not. Watch her mouth. She chews the inside of her bottom lip when she's nervous. " Crosshair was proud of his ability to see details like that.  He liked knowing things no one else could see.  

Wrecker watched Miria’s face.  "Oh. Well,  she's good at faking it. "

She wouldn't have to fake a damn thing with me.  

Crosshair shook his head,  chasing the thought that stubbornly lingered. She was chewing her lip again.  Her painted Naboo-style, soft lips.  He would have given his right eye to see that paint smeared all over his face and chest after she'd kissed him.  

She was too innocent.  She'd surely never gone to bed with someone, probably never even kissed anyone.  He bet she'd never broken a rule in her life, while his entire personality was based on shattering as many regulations as possible without getting thrown in a brig. What did she see when she looked at him?  Something dangerous to be held at arm's length? If so,  why did she make so much effort to be kind to him? 

Maybe… he intrigued the goody two-shoes because deep down she wanted to cut loose? 

And maybe, just maybe,  he was looking at her so hard because her unflappable goodness was the most reliable thing in his life.  

Maker, he could almost feel what her skin would be like against his.  He could show her exactly how good it could be,  show her what her life in the temple denied her.  It was a shame to keep hiding a body that beautiful… but he was startled at himself when his fantasy didn't end after the sex did.  

He wanted to pin her to a wall,  devour her mouth and map the shape of her with his tongue.  He wanted her, naked under him and whimpering until they were both spent. But then… he wanted to keep holding her.  He wanted to tuck that pretty head under his chin and bury his nose in her hair,  smooth her skin under his palms until she fell asleep so he could watch her breathe.  He'd drive her back to breathlessness in the morning when she woke, admire the night before's bruises and bites while he left new ones, and when she was convinced not to leave the bed for a while longer he'd rest his head on her chest and she'd run her fingers through his hair and across his shoulders. Soft and sweet,  things he'd never wanted or needed before.  But he'd take them from her… 

"Coruscant to Crosshair? Hello?" Wrecker waved a hand in front of the sniper’s face.  "Are you listening to me?"

"Nope." Crosshair jolted. "... sorry. I was thinking."

"Must have been. You just apologized." Wrecker chuckled.  "What's so interesting?"

Crosshair was too distracted to lie.  "Miria." He murmured. "She looks… good.  Like this.  But she hates it.  I want to take her somewhere."

"... Cross, she's a general.  You can't really be thinking about hooking up with her. Even if she went for it,  you'd both get in big trouble.  You heard what Tech said."

"I'm not talking about a hookup." Crosshair shook his head.  "Something else.  Something… more than that.  She's not a hookup girl."

"... you've got an actual crush on her." Wrecker gaped at him.  Crosshair was,  even among them,  the outlier.  The grumpiest, the most aloof. The least emotional.  Even compared to the logic obsessed Tech. To imagine him with feelings as pure as a legitimate crush on anyone,  let alone a Jedi,  was insane. 

"Maybe.  I just can't get her out of my head." Crosshair shrugged.  "Why not?  She's gorgeous. I wouldn't kick her out of bed."

"You've kicked a lot of gorgeous girls out of your bed."

"I'm a bastard. We know this.  But she's… different.  I dunno,  I can't explain it. I just…. She's honest.  I don't know if she'd go for it,  since she'd have to lie to the temple."

"Just don't be a dick to her if she turns you down.  I like her,  she fits with the squad." Wrecker elbowed him in the ribs hard enough to make Crosshair hiss. "I'm going to the food."

He left Crosshair alone with his thoughts,  the sniper wondering if he said too much to his brother. He and Wrecker were close,  the big guy hard not to love even though he drove Crosshair insane with how loud and messy he was.  Maybe it was because, when they were cadets,  Wrecker was always the first to comfort him when he was being punished.  And he was always being punished for something.  If Miria did turn him down, Wrecker would be the one who brought him caf and practically laid on him while he moped about it.  

Telling him was just…. Insurance.  Right? 

"Having fun?" Crosshair nearly jumped out of his skin when Miria popped up beside him.  He hadn't heard her coming,  lost in his thoughts. 

"Not a fan of crowds." He muttered on reflex, before wincing. Fuck.  Complaining was a habit, but this literal ray of light had to find it annoying.  He needed to shut up and just-

"Nor am I.  I'm sorry for dragging you along." She sighed, leaning against the wall beside him. "This is exhausting."

"You never complain." He chuckled,  a little surprised.  

"I try not to.  It hardly helps anything." She smiled softly, and his heart picked up a notch.  "But… maybe you're rubbing off on me."

"Let's get out of here,  then.  You've done your job, schmoozing with these chucklefucks." He shrugged.  He wanted to beg her to leave with him.  He never begged for anything.  

"I suppose I could call the squad…" She reached for her comm, startled when the sniper’s gloved fingers looped around her slim wrist.  

"They're having a good time.  Let's just go,  you and me." He murmured.  "No one will notice." Okay,  his brothers were probably not having that good of a time.  But he saw a chance and he'd regret it forever if he didn't take it.  Maker, he just wanted to be alone with her.  He could see,  perfectly in his head,  what she'd look like if he could just find a way to show her a fraction of that sweetness she offered so freely.  He had to have some in him,  somewhere… right?  

He could touch something innocent without leaving fingerprints. Couldn't he? 

Miria considered the hand on hers thoughtfully. His touch felt electric to her,  and she could feel the calluses on his fingers even though the gloves. He'd let go any second now, chastened by her silence. Say something,  Miria.  Tell him you want to leave with him.  Tell him you can't stop thinking about him.  Do something! 

His fingers loosened on her wrist. "Sor-"

"Yes." She whispered,  faint enough he barely caught it over the din of the gala. "Yes,  let's go.  You and I."

He felt like she'd strapped a jetpack to him and told him to hold still.  Yes.  She'd said yes.  "C'mon." He murmured, fingers sliding up to her palm. She let him take her hand and guide her out the back door unnoticed, abandoning her fellow Jedi and his brothers to the intemperate political climate almost carelessly.  But she did care,  just… only about him right now.  She couldn't care about anything but how his larger hand curled around hers. 

She'd arrived in one of the Order's skycars, with Obi-wan and Anakin. They'd catch a ride home with Padme or one of the others. They'd be fine.  Crosshair opened the passenger door for her in a surprising display of politeness.  It made her smile.  "So there is a gentleman under that sass, Cross."

"Maybe you're rubbing off on me." He chuckled.  "Where to?"

"Somewhere quiet." She looked at him,  nervous butterflies in her stomach.  What was she doing? Sneaking off like a careless padawan,  with a man she knew had a taste for rule breaking. If she went somewhere alone with him,  there was no telling what might happen.  What if she couldn't stop him from doing something that would change everything between them forever? 

What if she didn't want to stop him? 

"I've got an idea." He walked around to the driver's seat and they took off, Miria with her hands in her lap. She was chewing her lip again.  Nervous, adorable.  "Don't be scared." Crosshair murmured. "It's just me."

She wanted to balk at both statements.  A Jedi didn't fear… and there was nothing just about Crosshair.  But she instead reached out and brushed her fingers against his hand on the gearshift.  "I'm not… scared.  Just nervous, and that's precisely why." She breathed. "Because it's you."

"I make you nervous?" He raised an eyebrow, pulling them into a high parking garage over Republica Park. There weren't many people around at this time of evening, quiet just like she'd asked for.

"It's a good kind of nervous." She murmured sheepishly.  "It's… exciting. I like it… perhaps I shouldn't,  but I do." 

Crosshair cut the car off and shifted in the seat to look at her.  His stare was electric, burning into her with the heat of a supernova that settled somewhere lower than the pit of her stomach.  "Good.  I don't mind making you nervous,  but I don't want you scared of me." His hand,  still under hers, turned so their palms rested together.  "I wanted to talk to you… about that girl I brought to the ship, the last time we were on Coruscant. "

Miria deflated just a touch, fingers twitching against his.  Oh, she'd terribly misread the situation.  He wasn't… why did she want to cry?  There was no reason for it,  this was a good thing.  She couldn't have this anyway,  she was a dying Jedi.  It wouldn't be fair to him.  "Oh… please tell me she isn't pregnant." She tried to joke.

He saw right through her, to the shining of her eyes in the city lights as they dropped away from him and the way her shoulders dropped.  "What?  No,  Maker no." He was a moron,  that was no way to start a conversation like this.  Now she thought… "Miria,  I'm trying to say she was the last one.  I don't want any more strangers."

She blinked, oddly soothed.  "Really? Why?" Her eyes

"Because they aren't you." He said it quietly, but the detonation could have been nuclear. 

Her.  He wanted her?! The sickly little padawan,  fated to die. The weak Jedi who had to struggle for what everyone else could do easily.  The General who could only handle one squad, that the council hadn't even wanted to let join the war. Crosshair,  the capable, tough, brilliant marksman wanted her?! 

She squeaked, eyes big as saucers. "Me…?"

Crosshair nodded.  Please don't pull away.  Please don't leave.  Give me a chance,  I can do something right for you. "You're in my head. All the time." He murmured.  "I can't figure you out, but I want to." Under her palm, his hand itched to curl around hers and hold on,  to make her stay until she agreed with him.  Maybe with someone else,  he would have.  But he couldn't bring himself to make Miria do anything… he needed her to want this as badly as he did. 

"Crosshair…" She whispered.  "It would be cruel of me.  I…"  Force, this would ruin everything,  but it was the only thing she wanted. How cruel of fate,  to tempt her so sweetly.  "I won’t have a long life. I can't give you what you deserve,  as much as I want to."

Over his momentary disappointment echoed the last words. As much as I want to. 

She wanted this, but something was holding her back.. .  

"It’s war, we could all be dead on the next mission. If it's going to happen no matter what,  why can't you have what you want?" His golden eyes glittered like a kyber crystal in the city lights, and for once she didn't think of Illum. His fingers slipped between her own. “If you want to give me anything, give me right now.” 

Miria was drowning.  She wanted,  yes she wanted so badly.  To cradle his face in her hands and let him breathe another twenty years into her; years without the ache of standing on the sidelines watching everyone else while she was alone. Everyone else got a choice, they could leave the Order if they really wanted to.  They wouldn't die if they chased a dream… why couldn’t she have that? 

If she was destined to die, why couldn’t she live? 

"Right now…" She finally breathed.

Crosshair squeezed her hand lightly. "C'mere." 

Miria leaned in as he shifted in his seat, his other hand catching her chin.  He tilted her face toward him,  considering her sweet eyes and soft features.  His thumb lightly stroked over her cheek.  "You're lovely…" She whispered.  "I've always thought so."

Crosshair chuckled, low in his chest.  "I'm not soft and sweet.  Not like you." He watched her lashes flutter. "I don't want to scare you off."

"I don't scare easily." She smiled.  

"Good." His mouth crashed into hers with blinding speed, the Jedi yanked into his chest.  She went dizzy with sensation,  eyes closing almost immediately. He’d been right, whether he knew it or not, that she’d never so much as kissed anyone before. Carefully, he settled a hand on the back of her delicate neck and tilted her head the way he wanted. She didn’t seem to know where to put her hands, nervously pressing against his lapels. She could feel his steady heartbeat through his uniform, beating under her palm. It felt like a calling.

When he leaned back,  still holding her head,  she looked at him with doe eyes and shuddering breaths. He chuckled a little. "So fucking innocent." He murmured faintly.  "You have no idea how much I want to ruin you."

She blinked, tightening her grip on his uniform front. "This… it won't be over in the morning,  will it?" She whispered.  "It's not just… nothing to you?"

For a moment,  his eyes softened.  He didn't do vulnerability in general, but… she was special.  She was asking for so little, to mean something to him.  "I don't think I could walk away if I tried,  baby girl." He murmured cautiously.  "It can't be nothing.  You're already… important to me." 

He hoped she understood.  He'd been wishing it was her in his arms for months.  Not because she was beautiful, but because she was kind.  He wanted all that sweetness, all her light,  all over him. 

Miria smiled and her hands moved up,  curling softly around the sharp planes of his jaw. "Then I'm yours, if you'll have me." 

He chuckled quietly.  "Think you can put up with a bastard like me?"

"You're not a bastard,  Cross." This time,  she leaned up and delicately pressed her lips against the corner of his smirking mouth.  "How can I show you how wonderful you are?"

He felt something in him melt.  He was burning alive at her skin finally on his,  but Maker she deserved better than the back seat of a skycar in a parking garage.  "Let me kiss you again."

"As often as you like." She murmured, and his mouth found hers fervently in the dark,  tongue pressing quickly against her lips. She wasn't sure what to do until he squeezed her hip, using her gasp to slide into her mouth. 

He tasted of scotch and desire. She tasted of summer fruit and devotion.  "How much of you can I have?" He whispered, moving down her jaw to see if she shuddered like his daydreams when his tongue met her neck. 

"As much as you wish." Miria breathed,  arching into the center console in her haste to press into him.

"I like that answer." He murmured.  "Get in the back for me."

Miria nodded, eyes wide as she slipped her seat belt and carefully climbed into the back seat. There was hardly a graceful way to arrange her sleeves and skirt without tripping, but she managed. Crosshair followed her, impatient hands guiding her sideways across the seat with him kneeling between her parted knees. She let him press her back against a door,  kissing her once again.  This time,  however,  he'd been given a green light to explore her. And how could he refuse? 

She gasped when he latched at her throat, searching out her pulse and sucking a mark that would barely be covered by her normal robes. A pity, he thought,  that no one else would see.  But he'd know,  and remember he had been the one to have her.  And keep her.  

He tugged the pin from her hair and tossed it into the front seat carelessly, getting a handful of her hair to tilt her neck back further.  Whatever perfume she wore for the night was delicious,  and he nipped his way across her delicate skin.  Miria must have heard his fantasies, because her gasps and breathy whimpers were better than he'd imagined.  

When he pulled her belt off, tossing it and the attached lightsaber to the seat with her hairpin, she couldn't help but smile.  A lightsaber is a Jedi’s life. And here she was,  putting it in his hands while he was blissfully unaware of how much it meant.  

Crosshair opened her dress easily, eyes fixed on the swell of her chest under a simple cotton breast band. Expensive lingerie wouldn't have suited her half so well.  "You've never done this before." He murmured, not asking.  

"N-no." She breathed,  the air hitching in her lungs as he palmed her breast firmly, testing the weight of it in his hand. She was willowy, slim framed and small busted, but he liked it. He couldn't wait to see the porcelain of her skin dotted with the evidence she'd chosen him.  Of all clones.  Of all men,  him. 

"Sure you want it to be me?" He paused.  "It's never too late to back out. I'm not that kind of asshole."

"I've never wanted it to be anyone else." She assured him,  reaching to put her hand over his and press it harder against her hammering heart.  "I'm certain, Crosshair. I'm yours."

He groaned low in his throat before pulling her breast band down and pulling a pretty pink nipple into his mouth.  He had a thousand feelings right now he didn't know how to process; what did he say to even begin to describe how grateful he was to be trusted,  how clumsy he felt with someone so perfect? His composure was unraveled when she so much as smiled,  and she hit him with that? 

He occupied his busy mind with her body instead, setting his teeth into her flesh at the border of pleasure and pain.  Miria arched, hips jolting to rub against the sinful hardness growing below his belt. His response was just to squeeze her other breast eagerly, making her squirm. 

In the enclosed space of the car, even her desire was sweet. “You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” He mumbled into her skin, moving down the center line of her sternum. “All these months, watching you. So fucking pretty. So goddamn sweet.” He nipped at the point of her hipbone, just above her panties. “Always so nice to everyone, putting bacta patches on scraped knees like a good little teacher.” When his teeth caught a little harder, she whimpered and squirmed. Crosshair held her down with a forearm, chuckling. “Can’t figure you out, Miria. Never broken a damn rule in your life, but you’re in the back seat with a pain in the ass like me.” She let out a precious, desperate noise when his knuckles pressed against the rapidly dampening fabric of her panties, teasing her deliberately. “That what does it for you? A bastard with a smart mouth? I’ll be happy to show you what my mouth can do.”

Miria surprised him when her fingers ran softly through his hair. “You’re not a bastard, darling.” She mumbled. “You are divine." 

Crosshair smiled.  A real one, and nudged her knees further apart.  "Maybe just for you." 

His fingers hitched her panties to the side,  revealing the glistening pink of her heat. He wanted to strip her bare and admire every inch before picking her apart piece by piece… but there would be time for that later.  Right now,  he needed to know what she tasted like. He needed her coming undone under him,  enough to keep her coming back for more, because he didn’t think he had it in him to wake up one more morning in his bunk without her.   

Miria almost sobbed the second his mouth dropped between her trembling thighs. His tongue was skilled,  years with a toothpick in his mouth granting dexterity and attention to detail.  He zeroed in with the kind of attention to detail only a sniper of his caliber could be capable of, flicking his tongue against her clit until she squirmed. When her hips attempted an escape from him,  he'd turn his head to bite the soft skin of her inner thighs or crease where they met her mound. 

Her pitiful,  pleasured gasps turned him feral. If he had the presence of mind to be embarrassed, he would have been at how his own hips ground incessantly against her leg and the seat below him.  He usually had better self control,  but Miria made him needy.  

How could he help it when she tasted so sweet,  and her pale hands smoothed across his shoulders and through his hair? What man could resist how she whispered his name like it belonged on her lips?

He'd picked his name because he wanted everyone to know who he was,  and what he did.  Crosshair,  the sniper. Deadly and efficient, he wanted the awe that a CT number never provided. But when she said it… it was headier than any drug. His skillset of death didn't matter to Miria. Something about the way she breathed across the syllables told him that even if he'd been a terrible shot,  a worthless soldier… she'd have still wanted him anyway.  She saw him.  She knew him.  

And the Mando’a word for knowing was the same as the word for love.  

He didn't think he'd be very good at love.  But Miria would,  and didn't the thought of it make him want to be different? Just for her. 

Mirias eyes squeezed closed when the sniper curiously brought his fingertips to explore her. “Relax, baby girl.” Crosshair mumbled against her thigh, softening to a kiss instead of another nip. “You trust me, right?”

Miria nodded shakily. “Y-yes…” 

“Relax for me. Last thing I want to do is hurt you.” Crosshair murmured. “I’m gonna make it good, I promise. You just gotta relax.” 

The Jedi nodded, taking a slow breath before willing the tension from her muscles. This was okay, nothing was wrong. She was safe, with Crosshair. He wouldn’t hurt her, and there was no reason to be so nervous, she wanted this. She just didn’t know what to expect… 

But he’d take care of her. She opened her eyes and looked at him, his chin resting lightly against her pelvis. He was watching her curiously, one hand holding her knee and the other prodding between her slick legs. “That’s my girl.” he chuckled after a minute, and rewarded her with a thumb circling firmly against her clit. 

His girl. Miria, the youngling who’d never had any friends, belonged to someone. Someone wanted her to be theirs… someone like Crosshair who could have had anyone with no more effort than it took him to smirk. He wanted her. She had no idea how much he had wanted her, all this time. 

When his clever digit pushed into her heat, she couldn’t contain a moan behind her teeth. He was slow, careful with her and watching her reactions like a nexu hunting prey. She was soaked, granting him enough leeway to start gently thrusting his hand into her as he dropped his tongue back to her clit and resumed consuming her like she was the only oasis on Tattooine. Between her little cries and the way her breath was starting to fog up the back windows, he was chuckling into her skin. Those little vibrations made her squirm and clench, and Crosshair was drowning in it. “Pretty girl, Maker, I can't wait to see your face when you come.” He withdrew his tongue and replaced it with his thumb again, so he could look at her pretty face. “Gonna get at least two out of you first before I take you back to the ship. I want you in a bed, where I can fuck you how you deserve it.” He promised. “I’ll make it good, so good you’ll never want to leave me. Fuck, I can’t let you go if I wanted to. Not when you’re so perfect.”

Miria blinked, managing to get her eyes open enough to look at him. Her hand, tangled in his hair, softened enough to catch his chin, still slick with her. She was trying to find the words to say how much she never wanted to leave. How for the first time in her life, she didn’t care if she was dying… because for a moment she was living. “I w-want to stay with you.” Her voice trembled, though if it was the emotion or the fact he hadn't slowed the diligent work of his graceful hands she wasn't certain. All she was sure of in the moment was how much she adored him.  How she'd happily give the rest of her life to spend by his side.  

Crosshair surged up to kiss her mouth,  a second finger joining the first inside her and curling with wicked precision to have her seeing hyperspace.  "Tell me you're mine." He growled against her lips.  "No one else's."

"I'm y-yours!" She moaned. 

"Again." He ordered, breathless. 

"I'm yours."

"Say my name and come for me, mesh'la."

"Crosshair!" She wailed obediently, and soaked his hand from fingers to forearm when she desperately released. 

He immediately lavished her throat and shoulders with his lips, nearly making her forget this was a lethal soldier in her arms.  He was so suddenly sweet on her,  nibbling at that pretty collarbone and running his tongue between her breasts. "Good girl.  My good girl." He mumbled quietly.  "Want inside you so bad… fuck. Not yet.  Not here." He sounded like he was arguing with himself, and the straining hardness against her leg was arguing back.  The front of his pants was damp, pre-come leaking messy and hot from him.  "Let me take you home.  Never want it to be anyone else, baby girl."

The word home sounded so good from his lips.  She nodded immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck.  "J-just a moment.  Please… let me hold you." She pleaded softly.  He answered with a kiss that stole the breath from her lungs. His tongue was in her mouth again, and he tasted of her.  

Don't let this be a dream.  I can't bear to wake up alone. 

Crosshair didn't want to stop kissing her, but he had to.  "Let's go." He finally murmured.  "Back in the front."

Miria nodded,  letting him get up off of her and slide his lanky form into the front seat.  She followed on shaky knees, closing her dress but ignoring her belt as he fumbled the controls to get them back to the dock. 

Her heart was almost starting to settle when he slipped a hand into her lap and started rubbing her through her ruined panties,  eyes on the skylane.  "I promised you one more." He murmured, smirk painted on his lips.  

She gasped and squirmed against his fingers,  chasing the friction desperately.  "Cross…" It was almost a whine, and he felt an electric thrill race through his blood.  His dignified little General whining his name was an ego boost that could have undone him if he wasn't so goddamn determined to have his release from inside her warm body. 

"Feel good, baby girl?" He crooned. The nickname felt right and entirely inadequate to explain how he actually felt. He was no good with sweet words, but Miria understood.  She was clever like that. He'd have to get by with how he touched her, and hope she kept understanding the words he couldn't find. 

They were just landing the car in a parking garage when she broke open again,  whimpering into her hands she'd jammed in her mouth.  Crosshair chuckled and leaned over,  nipping her ear as he gathered the articles of her clothing he'd cast aside from the floorboard.  He tucked them and her lightsaber into his uniform pockets before getting out and walking around to gather her in his arms and carry her into the Havoc Marauder.  

It was late,  and dark, so no one else saw the utterly debauched look on her face. Crosshair could admire his handiwork openly, from the purple blotches peeking out of her open dress to the way one slipper hung halfway off her dainty foot. She looked wrecked, and he wasn't even remotely done with her.  

He carried her straight to the bunkroom and set her in his bunk, kneeling to pluck her shoes off first before opening her dress and guiding the fabric off her.  Her breast band and panties followed in a heap on the floor, until she was completely bare to his eyes.  "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" He murmured,  loosening the collar of his shirt.  "What you do to me? How the hell has nobody had you yet? It's all I've been thinking about since I laid eyes on you… since you asked me my name." 

Miria lifted a hand and hooked two fingers in his belt, smiling softly.  "I've never wanted anyone else like this,  my darling."

He couldn't get his clothes off fast enough.  They hit the ground with blinding speed, Crosshair driven half mad with the need to put as much of his skin against hers as possible.  When he was bare as the day he was born, he crawled over her and pressed his chest against hers. "Keep talking."

Miria’s hands moved tenderly over his copper skin,  sending goosebumps in her wake. Through his hair,  across his shoulders, down his back and up the nape of his neck, she soothed the raw places in his bruised and battered spirit. "All along." She assured him.  "From the moment I looked into your eyes,  I've known you were special.  You were a shining star in the night, guiding me home.  I've wanted to kiss the pain out of those lovely eyes since the first time you smiled.  Let me be the one who makes you smile.

"You do.  Maker…" He tucked his head into the curve of her neck and breathed like he was drowning. 

Miria smiled, holding him to her.  Somewhere in her battered heart, she felt the heat of the moment coalesce into something solid and real.  It was too soon to say love, but it could be if given the chance.  Like a flower,  it just needed to be tended to grow. "Let me stay yours." She pleaded. 

He nodded helplessly, pulled under at her confession.  He had to ground himself in something before he forgot how to breathe. 

When he moved,  pulling her leg up over his hip and sliding into her inch by patient inch, she let out a strangled moan. "Crosshair…" She whispered.  

"Right here. I got you." He gritted out,  as if she couldn't feel him.  As if she wasn't mind-shatteringly aware of every part of him, on and in every part of her as his pelvis fell flush against hers. He fumbled for her hand, locking their fingers together. 

It was such a sincere little gesture, tender in a way he normally wasn't.  His entire body was shaking with the effort it took him not to just shatter her, to yank her up to his chest and take everything he had been dying for for months. She read him like an open book, and couldn't help but smile at what she saw.  

Let me be good to you. Let me show you that I know how. Let me prove there's something in me that deserves this.  

She cupped his cheek, drawing his lips back to hers.  Like he'd dreamed, the red paint was smudged down her face and his.  "I'm yours." She whispered, sweet as honey, before her other leg slid around his narrow waist and pulled him a little closer with surprising strength.  

He was done for. Miria was warm and soft and molded so perfectly around him, soothing every ache. Every wanting, fulfilled.  He could have spent forever buried in her, feeling her heartbeat slamming into his ribs under him.  For once in his rough paced life he was looking forward to the after, when he could hold her utterly spent figure to him and indulge in something kind and tender… he'd never wanted that before.  

For the moment he busied himself with rocking into the Jedi beneath him, slowly at first. Her expressions ran riot over her face,  bliss and vulnerability. She trusted him with this,  with her. The soft whimpering coming from her were so quiet and sweet he barely heard them, but he liked them better than any amount of pornographic moaning he'd heard before. This was sincere, this meant something.  

She squeaked when he pulled off her and sat back on his knees, tugging her up until she was straddling his lap and he could hold her,  chest to chest.  She wrapped her arms around his neck,  her head tilting back when he picked her up by the hips and settled himself right back inside her.  The angle pressed him impossibly deep, and he held still again so he could devour her mouth.  "Fuck…" Crosshair mumbled into her jaw. "Fuck, you're perfect." Maybe there was a Maker somewhere,  who made cute little nat-borns that accidentally ripped every bit of his guard down with a couple smiles.  Maybe Crosshair would thank him later… or maybe just enjoy his creation a little bit more.  

Miria kissed him like she was starving for his affection, fingers curled tight in his short hair when he started moving again. He could feel her lips moving, mumbling the syllables of his name into his lips. All he ever wanted for the rest of his life was to hear her voice say his name like that. "Cross, Cross,  oh Crosshair, please. Oh please,  don't stop. Please." 

How the hell could he stop now? Not when he finally had her in his bed,  her body pressed against him and her taste in his mouth.  He tightened his left arm around her,  forearm along her spine and her head cradled in his palm. The right hand slipped between them to find her apex and press his thumb to it,  pressure circling in time to the rhythm he thrust up into her. Warm lips ghosted against her throat. "Wanna feel you come with me inside you." He growled, the Jedi’s mind going to putty at the sinful darkness and desire. "C'mon, Miria.  Give me one more,  and tell me who's making you come apart on my cock. Say my fucking name again."

She couldn't have resisted giving him what he wanted, if she'd wanted to. And she didn't.  She wanted to please, wanted him to be satisfied and stay. Miria wanted him to want her again and again,  to be so in love with the way she could make him feel that he'd never look anywhere else.  

She had no idea he already was.  

"A-ah… Crosshair!" She all but screamed desperately, fingers sliding down to his shoulders and turning to durasteel as she writhed in his lap and lost her mind.  The winding band of sensation snapped with the force of a collapsing star, stronger than she'd ever felt before,  and every muscle in her core locked up.  Crosshair groaned, barely holding them both up as a couple faltering pumps of his hips into her heat sent him spilling between her legs. 

"Maker… fuck…" He gritted his teeth,  shaking as he managed to lay her back and collapse on top of her. He was still twitching, shuddering his release. 

Miria smiled and kissed his jaw. "A-are you alright, my darling?" She sounded drunk. 

Her darling.  He was fucked up now.  "Are you…?"

"Yes." The answer was immediate and affectionate.  

"I'm crushing you." He mumbled, making a jelly-legged attempt to crawl off of her.  He winced as his cock slipped free of her, but before he could get far she was pulling him back down. His head dropped into the softness of her breasts, and she ran delicate fingers through his sweat-damp hair. 

"It's alright. Let me hold you."

Crosshair melted into the touch,  going boneless.  Her hands felt good, safe and kind. Had he always been so starved for someone to touch him like this?  Had he been chasing this all this time, with all the wrong people,  when what he really wanted was right here all along? He nosed against her sternum, bringing his arms up to half hold her in return.  

Miria smoothed her palms over his shoulders and back,  up his neck and hair, just like he'd imagined.  Like she knew how much he needed this to be different.  Special,  because it was her. "Crosshair?" She murmured.  

"Mm?" His eyes were closed, and she was in love with the way his face relaxed when his eyes closed.  

She smiled.  "You're beautiful."

His eyes flicked up to her, and the barest hint of a flush rose on his cheeks. "Nah."

"I didn't think you'd blush,  darling." She couch resist teasing him just a little.  

"Didn't think I'd like cuddling either. But here we are." He mumbled, burying his face in her chest.  "Never liked it before.  But… it's you."

Miria resumed her gentle stroking over his back, watching his skin rise with goosebumps. It dawned on her that she was probably the first person he let hold him like this… she called the blanket up and tucked it around him comfortably.  "I'll stay as long as you want me to."

"Move your stuff in here." He said abruptly.  "Not right now,  but… later.  After." His head popped up. "If you want to,  I mean."

Miria smiled.  "Alright.  Go to sleep,  I'll be here when you wake. I promise."

Crosshair smiled,  a genuine one. "I can have you?" He murmured,  almost hopefully.  

"Only if I can keep you."

"Deal."

Miria nodded and leaned up to kiss his forehead.  "Perfect."

He didn't know if she meant the agreement or him,  and he didn't care. He was getting to fall asleep with her.  Finally.  

Late that night,  the rest of the batch would stumble back to the Havoc Marauder in various states of concern they'd lost their general and confident Crosshair would turn up. When they found both of them laying in the sniper’s bunk,  everyone froze. 

Crosshair opened one eye,  tucked quite smugly on the General's barely covered breasts.  "Wake her up and I'll shoot you." He mumbled.  

".... why is General Halcyon in your bed?!" Hunter whisper-hissed.

"Naked." Tech was repeatedly cleaning his goggles, putting them back on, then taking them off to clean them again.  He couldn’t be seeing what he thought he was seeing. 

"You know exactly why." Crosshair smirked.  

"You can't be fucking your general!" Hunter was steaming like a tea kettle.  

"Probably not.  But I can be fucking my girl.  Now shut up, she just fell asleep." Crosshair yawned. "Don't ruin this for us. She's happy."

Miria stirred faintly.  "Mn… Cross?"

"Go back to sleep, cyar'ika. It's just the guys."

"... okay darling…" Miria nodded, slipping an arm up over his shoulders again and dozing back off. 

Wrecker grinned. "Aw, Cross…"

"Shh. We'll deal with it tomorrow. Just let her sleep."

Hunter grumbled as he got ready for bed.  Maker fucking dammit, the whole ship was going to reek of sex all the goddamn time!

It was good to be home.  Miria hadn't realized how much she missed the Havoc Marauder until she woke up back in the ship. She’d woken up in Crosshair’s bunk, with the sniper still curled around her. She had been so comfortable she hardly wanted to get up, but she duty called. And she was at least now finally cleared for their next mission away from Coruscant. "Aww. You even cleaned." She chuckled at the clumsy attempt by Wrecker, the most oblivious to cleanliness.  "That's sweet,  boys."

"We had time to kill." Wrecker grinned.  "And we wanted to make it nicer.  It was Crosshair's idea."

The sniper shrugged.  "Maybe I was just sick of the smell."

"More like trying to impress her." Tech shrugged.  "Though, based on what we saw last night it hardly seems necessary. 

Miria chuckled and followed them into the hold.  "Wait a minute.  Where's my hammock and footlocker?" She frowned.  

"Bunkroom." Crosshair shrugged,  fiddling with his toothpick.  "Next to my rack."

She smiled a little.  "I see. Lucky for you,  I'm sure the general won't mind."

He smirked. He'd been a little unsure when he'd moved everything while she was in the fresher,  hoping quietly she'd want to keep sharing a bed. Last night had been the best sleep he'd had in years, curled up beside her, but he wasn’t sure she remembered agreeing to it. They had been… distracted. 

"Where are we headed next, General?" Tech chuckled as she settled into her seat.

"Salucemi. It seems there's rumors of a Separatist outpost. Wrecker,  you might actually get to blow something up." She chuckled.  

"Hell yes!" He grinned. 

Miria leaned back in her seat as Crosshair dropped into his behind her. She settled in to flip through the mission dossier as Tech got them off the ground,  content. How had she ever thought she'd be afraid in this war, with them beside her?  They'd always keep her safe… and for as long as she had breath, she'd do the same. 

She didn't remember her family before she joined the Order, but she couldn't imagine it would have felt any better than this. And while war curled wicked claws into the galaxy and threatened to rip it in two… without it, none of these men would have existed. And, idly, she thought that if she'd never been sick then she never would have met them away. Funny how fate put it all together.  

The will of the Force brought them into existence,  and into my life. 

She glanced back at Crosshair,  flipping a toothpick into his mouth. A blossom of soul deep affection warmed her chest. She would never give him a full lifetime,  she didn't have the time even if they all survived to see the end of the war.  But she could give him right now.  And every right now she had, for as long as he wanted her. 

[astaroth1357]

Brothers React to the MC Looking at Them Lovingly

This is a personal experiment. This is the very first time I've written one of these with a goal in mind, "Make them fall in love all over again." It's a tall order. I hope I succeeded. 🙏 Special thanks to @a-chaotic-dumbass for picking the mood for this one!

Intro:

We all know that look. The one where one person stares at another like they just realized they're the only thing in the universe and they're in fucking awe of it. The kind of look that tells you they're utterly enthralled by that other person and just can't get enough of their presence. That look. Yeah, the brothers just got that look out of the MC.

Let's warm some cold hearts, everybody.

Lucifer

Lucifer was always beautiful. Always has been, as an angel or a demon.

A morning star is one that outshines all the rest. It stands out when the other stars have dimmed, holding onto its luster in defiance of the sun. 

There couldn't be a truer title for Lucifer to have. Not the horrors of war nor the fires of Hell could tarnish his radiance in any way…

But there were moments, like right then, where the MC caught a glimpse of a different sort of Lucifer.

His brothers would often only see the uptight Lucifer, the practiced visage of perfection that he tried so hard to keep up… 

But after a long day, when he thinks he's alone, he retires to his room to listen to his music and the difference is astonishing.

There's something so entrancingly calm about him… How the light of the fireplace flickers and dances across his alabaster skin to the subtle slouch of his posture. His face no longer marred by creases of stress and frustration… 

And his expression is so pure… So tranquil and at peace… Beauty without effort. A shine that can't be ignored. A morning star, in the truest sense of the word…

It took awhile for Lucifer to see the MC leaning against his doorframe.

They were staring at him with the oddest look… Smiling like they were enraptured by something, but he didn't have a clue why. He was just sitting there…

So, naturally, he turned to suspicion.

"Am I really that amusing…?"

Frankly, he wasn’t prepared for the little laugh they let out in response.

"Mm? No, no... I'm just always so amazed by you, is all. I'll leave you to your music..."

Having thoroughly ruined the mood, the MC then turned to leave. But Lucifer was already upon them before they could step away, wrapping his arms around their waist and letting contented hum escape his chest.

"Going so soon…?"

Apparently he appreciated the compliment.

Mammon

He didn't have to do it.

When Belphie bumped into one of the House's vases, shattering it against the tile, he didn’t have to take the fall for it.

It wasn’t connected to him at all. He could have stayed quiet and no one would have pointed a finger at him for once.

But he did.

When Mammon set his phone down on the table, MC knew instantly that he had lied in the chat.

He was with them the entire day, he didn't have the time to accidentally break a vase. He hadn't even gone down that hallway all day...

But he said something anyway.

And he didn't even look fazed. He didn't turn towards them seeking approval nor did he look irritated that Belphie didn't speak up. He didn't curse at himself for doing something so self-sacrificing either...

When Mammon leaned back into the cushion of his couch, the MC saw something truly remarkable on his face… A smile. A small one, sure, but relaxed… 

Assured in his own actions. Confident in his choice and accepting the consequences… undeserved, and likely thankless, they may be.

A genuine, serene smile…

Mammon wasn't sure what he expected to see when he turned to the MC. Probably confusion or disbelief that he, the Great Mammon, could be so selfless.

Definitely not the awed, lovestruck look he got...

"G-gah!" He panicked slightly and pressed himself back against the armrest of the couch in shock. "Wh-... What'cha lookin at me like that for??"

When the MC didn't answer after a few seconds and just kept staring, he honestly didn't know what to do. Were they broken or something??

"Oi, MC! I asked ya wh-Hey wait a minute!!"

He made a noise between a yelp and a shout when the MC leapt forward and latched their arms onto him. What had gotten into them??

"U-uh… MC? MC?? Damnit MC, answer me already!! Or at least stop squeezin so tight!!... MC!!!"

Leviathan 

To anyone else, it was just Levi being Levi.

He had finished a new episode of his latest animated obsession and he had to share it with someone. Anyone would do, but the MC was always willing to lend an ear.

Something about Levi really changes when he talks about his passions… It's like he comes alive in a whole new way.

He speaks at a mile-a-minute, but that's because he's so excited the words fly from his mouth. 

Some part of him is always bouncing, be it his leg or body. Sometimes even his tail will swish and curl behind him like an ecstatic puppy. And his eyes… 

Citrine pools that glimmer and dilate from the exhilaration of it all. It's his little world and anyone can see he's thrilled to be sharing it. 

You'd never know he was shy. You'd never think he'd look down himself. You'd never guess that he hid himself away… Why would someone so full of passion and life ever want to? Some things are just too beautiful to keep hidden...

Levi had only gotten six minutes into his latest rant before he finally registered how the MC was staring at him…

This man has seen enough shoujo to know what that look means and it shut him up sooo quick. If anyone else were in the room they would have seen a beet-red Levi desperately trying to hide his face.

"M-MC…! S-top staring at me like that…!!"

"Like what~?" 

He didn't have to look at them to hear the teasing lilt in their voice.

"MC…" He peeked out from behind his fingers to see them still staring and covered himself up more vigorously. "Stoooop…!!!"

But secretly? He wished they'd never stop. His cheeks may have been red from embarrassment, but his heart was trying to hammer its way out of his chest to hug them itself. Hell, he'd have happily given it over to them if they'd asked…

Please just let those loving eyes be for him and him alone...

Satan

Soft isn't exactly a word anybody would use to describe Satan, least of all himself.

His anger was quick to spark, his strength was nothing to scoff at, and even his smiles were nothing but plastic for nearly all of his existence…

Nearly.

The MC learned surprisingly quick that there was one thing that could bypass all of the hidden ferocity to Satan's personality. Something that could make him melt like butter in the summer sun…

Satan had always looked a little cute when he was reading. He was easily at his most expressive when engrossed in a thrilling story or deeply intrigued by something he found between the pages of a book…

But watching Satan read about cats, as he was right then, was really something else entirely.

Maybe it was the way his emerald eyes would sparkle or the lopsided grin he just couldn't hide as he would scan the pages about the playful habits of Bengals or the relaxed nature of Ragdolls…

Maybe it was the sheer impassioned dedication he took the subject, pouring countless hours into collecting and memorizing every fact he could from their diets to coat maintenance.

Or maybe it was the sheer fact that anytime he saw a picture of kitty in-print he looked like a besotted schoolgirl drawing hearts around her crush in a teen magazine.

Really, who's to say? But to the MC, it was proof that under all that anger, there was a tender, loving center even for the smallest, softest creatures…

Satan automatically snapped his book closed when he saw MC watching him from behind a bookshelves. Caught red-handed…

He knows exactly how he looks when he's doing his research internally squealing over cat pictures so he tries to do so in private...

He was about to sputter out a defensive explanation but then he registered their face…

He'd seen that look described in stories, romance novels mostly, but he'd rarely seen it in action… and never once leveled at him with such intensity…

Not to be cliche, but frankly his heart skipped a beat.

Satan forgot about his book briefly and got up to close the distance between them, tilting their chin up to keep their eyes on him.

"Like something that you see, Kitten?"

"You could say that…"

He laughed at their attempt to play coy, but let it slide just this once… Easy to do with them looking at him so amorously.

Asmodeus 

Asmo is a very popular demon. Someone so free ought to know quite a lot of people, after all.

And, of course, he had plenty of fans. He made DevilTube videos, hosted radio shows, fashion designed, and even modeled.

So it wasn't very surprising when a young demoness stopped him while he and the MC were out shopping. It wasn’t the first time he had been asked to sign autographs, but this meeting… it was different.

It was clear to them both that this girl was shy. Though she held out the paper, her eyes stayed firmly on the ground and she stumbled on her question… She likely a fan from afar, but everything about her seemed meek… unassuming.

Most people would have just gave the autograph then went on with their day. The interaction could have taken five seconds at most… but not Asmo.

He asked her name… where she was from, how she was feeling, her favorite foods, outfits, makeup, you name it. All with investment.

It was amazing to watch the shy young woman slowly open up, getting more bright and cheerful with each passing question until it evolved into a healthy conversation.

When their little meeting finally wrapped up, he gave her back the paper (now signed) but also fished out a bottle of perfume from among the mountains of bags he was carrying. He gave it to her and wouldn't hear anything to the contrary, he could always buy another.

None of his brothers ever gave Asmo enough credit for his giving nature… even if he had his own way of going about it. Though he cared so much about image and his ability to shine, he never hesitated to make sure that the people around him shined too...

Asmo waved to the fan as she scampered away and was about to  apologize to the MC when he saw their face…

The man knows this look well. He's seen it a billion times, though it was particularly cute coming from them.

"Awww MC! Taken by my beauty are you~?"

He was about ready to kiss their cheek when they responded.

"No, not your looks, Asmo… with you."

… Oh.

It was very rare to see Asmo speechless, but for a few seconds his mind seemed to take in their words… letting them fully sink in before his heart utterly melting.

Oh MC… His sweet MC!!

Asmo ended up dropping the rest of his bags just so he could properly litter his human in nuzzles and kisses, the both of them humming and giggling in delight despite their shameless PDA.

Of course it would be his MC to see that part in himself… Who else would take the time?

Beelzebub 

Food is a precious resource to Beel. For him, it's a lifeline. A good meal could save him from the brink of starvation…

But that still doesn't make him incapable of sharing from time to time.

He and the MC were walking back to the House after getting takeout from Hell's Kitchen. Beel hadn't even waited until they left the restaurant to start eating his share, spilling the smell of fresh food into the air around them…

Things were going fine on their route back until they heard whimpering behind them…

A hellhound puppy, not quite old enough to bear its fangs, seemingly followed them as they were walking… It looked like it had been out for some time and eyed their food with hungry eyes, but weak posture. Who knows when it last had a meal?

The MC was about to tug at Beel's sleeve and say something, but their demon was ahead of them this time.

A casual observer might have gawked at the sight of Gluttony kneeling down to offer such a lowly creature a sandwich. But the MC knew better. When you spend your whole life hungry, nobody more than you understands that kind of pain in someone else. 

This reaction wasn't out of character for Beel, it was elementary.

And when the puppy finished its meal and covered Beel's cheeks with appreciative licks, he just laughed and scratched behind its ears. Amethyst eyes looking more relieved at its health than disappointed he lost some of his lunch...

Food was Beel's lifeline, but kindness is what made him who he was…

When the pup finally scampered off, Beel looked over at the MC to tell them it'd be alright and saw their face…

He wasn't really sure what they were staring at… Did he have something between his teeth again?

"MC? Are you okay...?"

They laughed at him for some reason but pulled him in for a hug so they must have meant well.

"You're so sweet, Beel…"

Beel's never one to refuse a compliment so he just hugged them back, beaming.

"Thank you, MC…"

Belphegor 

To say that Belphegor tended to be on the melancholic side would be an understatement… It wasn’t that he was incapable of expressing joy, it was just harder for him to do than most. Not helped, of course, by his tendency to keep his true feelings vague and hard to pinpoint.

But on those rare occasions where he was overjoyed… Belphie could really be something special…

The MC and Belphie were attending one of Beel's games and it was a tight one… Both teams had spent most of it tied and Beel's team was running out of time to overtake that slim margin.

Belphie had always been a supporter of his twin's athletics, but this time it was tense even for him. He kept on the edge of his seat and didn't even nod off during the breaks like he normally would… The MC could just tell how nervous he was for Beel…

But right as the time was about to run out, Beel made a last minute score and sure, the whole field erupted, but Belphie? Belphie hollered.

The normally sleepy and mellow demon was on his feet in an instant and practically shredding his vocal chords in excitement. If his tail had been out, it would have been beating against the bleachers like a war-drum. And his expression?

Belphie's smile is said to stop hearts for a reason. When he puts his all into a grin it's almost like he ascends to Heaven once more, as pure as an angel's choir and as warm as a summer's breeze… Nothing in his eyes but pride and adoration for his beloved twin brother.

Truly, a heartwarming sight to behold…

Belphie didn't calm down until the rest of the crowd settled and was about to point out Beel's skill to the MC when he noticed their face.

… oh no… Why do they look so sappy…?

"You really love your brother, don't you?"

Belphie quickly hid his thoughts behind an irritated frown and plopped back down in his seat… but that didn't shield them from seeing his pink cheeks.

"Of course I do. What kind of question is that?"

He debated just joining Beel on the field to hide his embarrassment when he heard them snicker back.

"Yeah, you're right… Don't mind me."

Oh he minded. He minded a lot that he let his carefully veiled image slip like that. But thinking back to that smile on their face…?

Maybe being a little open wasn't so bad after all...