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justabigassnerd · 9 months

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Rough Days

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,516

Warnings - mentions of Goose, death, Mav intentionally stands under very hot water, angst, fluff n comfort at the end

Summary - after losing his best friend, Maverick finds comfort in his daughter

A/N - hey y'all! this was a request sent in by @coffeeandbatboys which I must formally apologise for taking so long to do this request I'm working as fast as I can it's just hard sometimes. I hope I did this idea justice. as per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

“Goose! Oh no!” Maverick’s panicked words when he saw his best friend’s lifeless body floating in the ocean haunted him. No matter how much Maverick turned up the pressure of the shitty locker room shower, it couldn’t drown out his thoughts. No matter how high he turned the temperature, the scalding water pelting against his back angrily, turning the skin red upon impact, he couldn’t use the pain to distract himself. He felt he deserved every feeling of pain that spread across his back.

When he finally decided to get out of the shower, he pulled on his clothes, stopping before he pulled his shirt on, turning his back to the mirror and craning his neck to look back at it. The skin was an angry red and was stinging slightly but the pain didn’t go beyond that. With a sigh he pulled his shirt on, barely flinching at the stinging of the shirt rubbing the irritated skin before he exited the bathroom, stopping short when he noticed Viper stood outside the room.

“Sir.” Maverick said, caught off-guard by the sudden sight of his chief instructor, instinctively standing up a little straighter just out of habit.

“Relax, Maverick.” Viper says softly, watching as the young aviator loosens the tension in his shoulders, allowing them to sag slightly. Viper felt awful for Maverick, knowing firsthand how hard it is to lose someone. He knew how close Goose and Maverick were, practically attached at the hip inside and out of training.

“Maverick, we’re giving you the rest of the day off. Tomorrow you’ll have to have a meeting with the board of inquiry to discuss the incident to determine what caused it. But for now head home. Spend some time with your little girl.” Viper urges, watching as Maverick’s gaze falls to the floor, shame evident in his body language. Viper hated seeing the normally cocky and smiley aviator so broken. His eyes were bloodshot, and he held no ounce of the person he was within him right now.

“Head home, son.” Viper says softly, watching as Maverick lifts his gaze to nod lightly, more tears shining in his eyes. Viper was confident that Maverick would be cleared of any wrongdoing in the meeting that was to come, no aviator was to blame, it was simply a freak accident.

“Thank you, sir.” Maverick says quietly, receiving a nod of acknowledgement from Viper.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Maverick.” Viper says, just before Maverick nods one final time and turns to leave the building. Maverick then made his way across the base to the daycare where he walked in, startled at how quickly the door slammed behind him before taking a breath and approaching the receptionist.

“Hello, Lieutenant Mitchell, what can I do for you?” The receptionist, Sally, was always grinning and happy, sunshine personified, and could always make Maverick muster a smile, but unfortunately, today was not a day where Maverick could meet her energy.

“Hey, Sally. I was wondering if I could pick y/n up? I got let off a bit early.” Maverick asks, barely able to hold eye contact with Sally, he just wanted to get you and get home as quickly as humanly possible. Sally noticed the change in Maverick’s demeanour. Usually, he’d lean up against the desk, all grins and confident eye contact, and would usually toss in a few flirty comments that never overstepped any of Sally’s boundaries, they both saw it as a joke, Maverick was fully aware of Sally’s husband and respected their relationship.

“Is everything okay?” Sally asks quietly, a seriousness sneaking into her tone as Maverick shakes his head with the smallest of smiles on his face.

“I’ll be okay, nothing for you to worry about.” Maverick assures, not wanting to drag Sally’s delightfully bright disposition down with him.

“Well, I’ll go and grab y/n now.” Sally says, rising from her chair and heading down one of the corridors in search of the room you are in. Maverick waits anxiously while he’s waiting, trying to figure out how to act normal around you after losing someone not only he loved but you loved too.

“Daddy!” Your cheerful voice cried out the second he was in your sight. Running towards him as fast as your little legs would allow.

“Hey, squirt.” Maverick greets, scooping you up instantly and doing his best to offer you the best smile he can to make sure you don’t pick up on his sadness.

“Goose?” You ask, peering over your dad’s shoulder in search of your uncle who often tagged along with Maverick’s pickups, especially while Carole and Bradley were back home. Maverick felt his heart shatter at your innocent question and just shook his head with a light smile.

“Just me today, kiddo. Your dad’s not that bad, is he?” He asks, poking you in the side gently which causes a light squeal to escape your lips as you cuddle further into your dad’s arms. Maverick glances over at Sally who offers him a gentle smile.

“If you ever need some support, you can always come to us. We try our best to support all parents.” Sally says, making Maverick fight back any more tears as he nods, grateful for the wonderful daycare you were at.

Maverick carries you out to his car, buckling you into your car seat before climbing into the driver’s seat, turning the key in the engine, and driving back to his quarters. When he gets to the house, he parks and gets you out of the car seat, grabbing your tiny rucksack as you rush to the door, eagerly waiting for Maverick to unlock the door so you can get into the house. The second the door is opened you’re rushing inside happily.

“y/n/n, shoes off sweetheart.” Maverick reminds you gently as he hangs up your bag before you come rushing back to take your shoes off, being softly prompted where to return the shoes to before disappearing into the living room. Maverick kicks his own shoes off and follows you into the living room, collapsing onto the sofa and leaning back into the cushions with a sigh. You hauled yourself up on the sofa, watching your dad curiously as you noticed the unusual sadness in his eyes.

“Daddy sad?” You ask, head tilted slightly as Maverick turns to look at you, instantly shaking his head.

“No sweetheart, just tired. It’s been a long day.” Maverick says, forcing a smile onto his face to convince you that he was okay. You, however, were not convinced of his words, and slipped off the sofa, rushing off in search of something as Maverick watches, confused. You soon come back into the room with your favourite stuffed animal in your hand. You climb back onto the sofa, this time assisted by Maverick and the second you’re sat up on the sofa you push the stuffed animal into Maverick’s hand, making him raise an eyebrow.

“You’re giving me Pluto?” Maverick asks softly, looking at the stuffed dog that bore no resemblance to his Disney namesake, but you claimed the name for the toy anyway.

“Make you happy.” You insist, pushing the plush dog further into his chest, making sure he wraps an arm around it too and that’s when it clicked for Maverick. You were insisting on giving him the toy because it made you happy, so you wanted to give him something to make him happy. When Maverick found himself unable to respond, you reached out and gently put your hands on each of his cheeks, gently pushing them up until his lips curled up into a small smile.

“Smile, daddy.” You then say, wanting nothing more than to see the smile that so often sat proudly on your dad’s face. Overwhelmed by the emotions of the day and his gratefulness for having you in his life, Maverick pulled you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head as he fought back another threatening wave of tears.

“I love you so much, sweetheart.” He whispers, cuddling you a little tighter as you curl into him.

“Love you, daddy.” You reply, your wide grin looking up at him before snuggling back into his chest as Maverick presses another kiss to the top of your head, the first genuine smile since the accident creeping onto his face as he holds you.

Maverick knew navigating life after losing someone as precious to him as Goose was going to be rough. But in having you by his side, he knew he had someone to stop him from drifting away in the sea of grief. Even if you didn’t know you were doing it, you provided Maverick with the comfort he needed on rough days. He didn’t know how to vocalise any of his thoughts to you, especially given your young age so all he could do was cuddle you close and press the softest of kisses against your hair as you curled into him.

And he definitely didn’t make a comment when you attempted to sneakily drag Pluto back into your grasp.

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fanfic-obsessed · 1 year

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Kaminoans Save

I was thinking this morning about the Kamioans. Specifically the Kaminoans as businessbeings and that their business is cloning. Also on their isolation and the implications that they do not have the knowledge base to understand sentients that are not Kaminoan. Two parts of that, of course, the likelihood that their business is built on cloning non sentients (so they are used to providing for the physical requirements of different species but are not used to the increased psychological needs of so called sentient species) and the sheer timeframe of the GAR cloning project (most projects have their clones sent to their clients in their infancy, thus the psychological needs fall on the clients). From these musings an AU was born.

We do have to start with the understanding that the Kaminoans in this do not know about Operation Knightfall or Order 66. This project was sold to them as a straight contract (even the chips were provided as an addendum in the contract. The Kaminoans believe that it serves as a way to tell who is a Force User-which technically it does) by the Jedi. They believe that special dispensation has been granted by the Republic to clone sentients with the aim of potentially changing the law (provided that the Kaminoans can prove that there is an ethical way to clone sentients), which would serve to triple or quadruple their business.

From that perspective not only do the Kaminoans want the clones to be seen as sentient, they want them to be as individual as possible within the contract (They have still been contracted to grow an army, which does come with restrictions on both individuality and agency). They want the clones to be different from Jango Fett, to prove that what they do is more than a copy. They are still assigned numbers at birth, but the clones are taught from a young age by the Kaminoans that it is so the clones themselves can find their own names. There is still the double aging through childhood but it is in he best interest of the Kaminoans for it to slow down to regular, or even slower, once the Clones reach peak physical and mental maturity (roughly mid to late 20’s)

Now it is not all sunshine and roses in this universe for the Clones. As the Kaminoans know little about human psychology and the needs of growing humans, Jango Fett (as the genetic progenitor) is contracted to find trainers for the clone army. Jango Fett is very much on board with Operation knightfall and Order 66. He and most of his trainers see the clones as the meat droids they plan for them to be. There is still decommissioning even if not as frequent(there is no reconditioning, though as that required tech from the Kaminoans, who want to encourage uniqueness for business reasons). The Kaminoans do not realize that the training program and the way that the Clones are treated by the trainers are unusual or abusive for humans for years.

They are primarily scientists, however, and many begin to notice that Boba Fett was treated significantly differently than the other clones, even taking into account that he does not age as fast (When he is five, he is not being treated like the physically five year olds for instance). At first there are attempts to get answers from the trainers and Jango Fett, who shut all inquiries down. Like all scientists who are presented with a puzzle (the difference in treatment between Boba and the other clones, and -once they noticed it- how some trainers seem to be treating the clones differently), as a people they start to research human psychology and child rearing. The more business minded of the species like the idea that the next time they get a project like this they will not have to outsource these parts, as it would be cheaper.

The results horrify them, from the research it is clear that the trainers are going to ruin the clones. This was the Kaminoans' livelihood, their reputation. The clones were their finest creations; each one unique, adaptable, and self aware enough to find solutions for their own shortcomings. The Kaminoans were damned proud of the clones, and did not want to be held responsible for the, clearly, substandard training they were receiving.

They did not even try to correct Jango Fett or the Trainers. Instead Lama Su reached out to the Jedi, not the Jedi that contracted them of the ‘Jedi’ that they had been dealing with, but the High Council in 977 ARR (23BBY, or a year the clone wars would have started. I need it to be specifically then for Codywan reasons. If Cody is aging double than in 977 ARR, he would be physically and mentally 18, though to me the CodyWan would still not happen for a few years, I personally would be a bit uncomfortable with them meeting much earlier than that; but that is a personal preference). He sends an official complaint that the methods of the trainers ‘hired by the Jedi’ were going to ruin their order. The High Council, confused but feeling like they should not admit it, arranges for a small group to travel to Kamino to ‘discuss the matter and take appropriate action’. They ask that the Kaminoan not speak of their arrival to the trainers, just in case.

This group includes Mace Windu, Ki Adi Mundi, Obi Wan Kenobi (as it is generally accepted that his missions go weird and he is one of the best equipped to deal with weird), Anakin Skywalker (as Obi Wan’s Padawan), and Healer Stass Allie.

The Jedi meet with Lama Su. They ask for him to tell them what is happening ‘as if they did not know about the contract’ to make sure they are not missing any information. Lama Su does, going over the entire contract, producing the signed waivers (including several that appeared to be signed by the chancellor himself), the contract, who they had made the contract with (Master Sifo-Dyas, in the last days of his tenure on the High Council-where he did have the authority to put in the order for he Clones without telling anyone), who they had been dealing with for the last few year (‘Master’ Tyranus- the Fallen Yan Dooku), and what the payment was to be (as they were to be paid on delivery). Then what the trainers are doing to the clones and how they(the Kaminoans) had just discovered the damage to their work (As they not only prided themselves on their work but also hoped that this would open up a new industry for them, they take that seriously).

At the end, Mace Windu is quiet for a really long moment before going “It’s clear the contract you signed was made in good faith on your end. However, Master Sifo-Dyas did not make this contract in good faith, and we have no record of Master Tyranus. We will honor the deal you made, you will get paid for the entire amount you were promised. There are going to be some changes, though, because we did not know about this project. I have no doubt about your process, but it is clear that someone wants to sabotage your efforts”

Anakin pipes up before they can go any further, his eyes distant. “They should be paid now, so that no one else can claim the clones belong to them.”

Lama Su is assuaged that they will get paid at least (the cost will drain the Jedi’s discretionary fund and mean that Mace will be sending a dozen Jedi to gamble to refill it again) and willing to make the changes the client suggests.

Windu asks about the not yet decanted, can the process be paused while the Jedi evaluate. Once the growth process has started, it cannot be stopped without harming the children in the tubes. Windu nods, and says to finish the growth process for any Tubes that have already been started but to not start any more and that the healer Allie Stass will be remaining to learn their process for decanting (When the chips are mentioned, along with their purported purpose Windu makes it clear that the chips should not be implanted in any more clones, and they would like a sample of the chip to study to see if they needed to remove it from already decanted clones). Military training was to cease immediately, as the Jedi are not legally allowed to have an army. Instead the Council would be giving some aptitude and interest tests so they can start figuring out how to best assist the clone in finding what they want to do. The Jedi Order would be taking custody of all of the clones, decanted and not, and bringing them to the temple on Coruscant but it would take time to arrange. In the meantime Windu and Obi Wan would be going to bond with the current set of trainers. Obi Wan and Anakin would be staying as part of an oversight process and starting to prepare the clones to move off of Kamino.

Just before leaving Mundi asks permission to get the Kaminoan in touch with his people. They have no way of knowing if the sentient cloning could continue (Frankly they have no idea how many of those waivers were legitimate, though they did believe Kaminoans believed them to be legitimate). But by nature the Kaminoans were superb geneticists and there had been too few males born to his people for generations.

So the Kaminoans did end up getting more business after all.

#kamino #the clones deserved better #star wars the clone wars #obi wan kenobi #codywan #lama su #mace windu #Allie Stass #anakin skywalker #star wars au #fanfiction prompt #star wars

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separatist-apologist · 13 days

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Never Not Mine

Summary: Elain Archeron has been betrothed to the seventh born son of Autumn for as long as she can remember. With her family's reputation in the balance, Elain is resigned to her fate.

That doesn't mean she has to like it…or that she has to make it easy for him.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Read on AO3

Elain took a breath as Lucien reached for Elain’s hand, held limply at her side. Glancing over, she saw Lucien’s jaw set tightly, eyes focused on the carved door before them. They couldn’t speak without risk of being overheard by the sentries guarding, so they stood there silently, connected only by his fingers wrapped around her own.

“Enter,” a guard murmured as the pair pulled open the heavy, golden handles in unison. Lucien stepped first, spine impossibly straight. He knew all the rules like the back of his hand, but Elain didn’t. She was scared—they’d gotten word that morning that Beron Vanserra had requested their presence later in the afternoon, effectively ruining their days. Lucien had scuttled off and Elain had been afraid he was going to sink into his cups again.

But he’d returned, dressed immaculately and smelling perfectly pleasant. Whatever Lucien had done, it left no mark. Discreetly, Elain had inhaled to see if she could detect another female on him, but Lucien was merely Lucien—hair brushed neatly, jacket buttoned nearly to his jaw, boots perfect and polished. He’d removed his rings save for their wedding band and looked much like his father who sat before him on his throne.

As much as he could, anyway. Elain kept wondering where Lucien’s handsome face came from, because it certainly wasn’t Beron, who was attractive in the same sharp way Eris and Cadmus were. It wasn’t the softer features of his mother, either—those seemed to have been given exclusively to Connal and Tanwen. He had his mothers coloring, like all his brothers did—her auburn hair, her russet colored eyes. But his skin was darker than his brothers, his jaw more defined, his body more muscular. Elain looked up at her husband, drinking in the sharp cheekbones, the prominent nose, and full brows. His brothers had an elegance to them, a leanness that seemed to be shared among their parents.

Still, Lucien was a son of Autumn in the sharp, shrewd tongue leashed behind his teeth and the keen, clever gleam in his eyes. Elain was neither, though she remembered Arina had survived here, and so would she, somehow.

The pair bowed deeply when they reached the foot of the wooden dais, Lucien’s fingers squeezing rhythmically as he counted something out in his head. She stood when he did, looking just behind the High Lord.

Beron chuckled, as if her nerves amused him. “How are you enjoying Autumn, Lady Elain?”

I hate it.

“Your home is beautiful and everyone has been so welcoming,” she said in the sweetest tone she could muster. Beron approved, clearly, reclining back on his throne.

“And my son?”

“A perfect gentleman,” Elain replied dutifully.

Elain expected that to be the end of the inquisition. Beron turned to Lucien, eyes still gleaming. “And you, boy?” Elain’s heart raced.

“I enjoy being married,” Lucien replied like the liar that he was. It didn’t answer Beron’s question, though, and both Elain and Beron knew it. Elain tried to hide the revulsion and fear she felt. Why did Beron care so much? Why did males in general care what a female was like in the bedroom? Beron’s wife was easily one of the most beautiful people in Prythian—why the fascination?

“Does she comply?” Beron demanded as Lucien cringed back ever so slightly.

Still, he answered. “Yes.”

“She does as she’s told?”

Lucien looked as if he wanted to vomit. “Yes.”

Beron seemed a little put out by this. “Her father will be pleased to hear that, at least. There was an inquiry into her…lack of response to his letters.”

Letters?

“I, of course, forgot to have them sent to you,” Beron continued blithely as a servant materialized beside her, holding a stack of letters tied together with twine. “Please inform him you are being treated well…and performing dutifully as a wife.”

“Yes,” Elain murmured, sinking into another bow. Beron waved them away, clearly bored of their unwillingness to put on a show for him. Elain wondered what he hoped for. Had the hoped Lucien had complaints? That Elain was miserable? Would he have liked to have seen bruises? Fear? Something that proved he’d raised his son in his own image?

Lucien murmured out a thank you before turning, all but dragging Elain along behind him. Lucien said nothing, pulling her through the halls, chest heaving up and down as though he might throw up. Elain had to jog to keep up with his long, quick gait, half breathless by the time Lucien slammed the door shut to their bedroom so hard a nearby picture fell off the wall.

“Bastard,” he snarled, reaching for a crystal vase filled with freshly cut flowers only to launch it across the room. “He’s a fucking—a fucking…a prick!”

Elain had never seen Lucien lose his temper like he was right then, smashing things until she walked toward him and grabbed his arm. “Please stop,” she murmured, hating the tremble in her voice. “It’s over. Everything is fine.”

Lucien turned, eyes flashing and for one horrible moment she thought…but he didn’t. He didn’t do anything but take a breath, blinking away his rage like snuffing out a candle. Her hand remained on his arm for just a moment longer, his eyes sliding to where they touched which convinced her to pull away. Nothing good would come of it, even if there were layers of fabric separating the pads of her fingers from his bare skin.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice edged with some emotion she didn’t recognize. “He’s just…”

“Under your skin?” she suggested.

“Cruel,” Lucien finished, turning his head to look anywhere but at Elain. “And I wonder, sometimes, if that's the fate of us all. Did he once feel the way I do? Will I one day hope my sons hurt their wives simply because I enjoy the fear of those beneath me?”

Elain wanted to assure him he wouldn’t, but it didn’t seem like her place to do so. Whatever inner turmoil Lucien was experiencing, it clearly wasn’t new. This was his insecurity to banish. She didn’t know what to say to this male who was more stranger than husband, who she just barely knew at all. Something tugged for just a moment, urging her to offer him comfort. To protect him, even if it was from his own emotions. The feeling slipped away just as quickly as it arrived, leaving Elain feeling strangely embarrassed by the whole thing. Lucien, too, seemed wildly uncomfortable as he stepped away, his expression more akin to that of a cornered animal. He didn’t want her touching him anymore than she wanted to touch him, it seemed.

Elain took a healthy step backward.

“I’m sorry,” Lucien murmured again, raking his fingers through his long, thick hair. “I lost my temper, I…won’t do it again.”

Elain nodded, unwilling to tell him he hadn’t frightened her. Better to nip his temper in the bud than to find herself trapped with a man who’d grown too comfortable screaming and yelling.

“You hate him?”

It wasn’t really a question, and yet Elain still asked as Lucien sank into a chair, hand covering his face.

“He hated me first,” Lucien said, stretching his long legs out before him. “Something about me offends him.”

“Does he like your brothers better?” she questioned, creeping closer. It was tempting to perch herself on the arm of his chair, but that seemed too personal, too close to just climbing in his lap. Her curiosity wanted her to, which kept Elain rooted in place. As much as she wanted to know what it would feel like to lay beneath a male, she wasn’t certain she wanted to know what it would be like to lay beneath this male.

Not yet, anyway.

Lucien shrugged his broad shoulders as he stretched out his neck. “I’m not sure. He favors them is perhaps the better word for how he feels. I doubt a creature like Beron Vanserra can feel true love anymore.”

“Because he’s old?” Beron Vanserra was the oldest High Lord by a good three centuries, holding power when so many others had died.

Lucien only shrugged. “Maybe.”

He didn’t know why his father was cold and cruel. Had he done what Elain was doing right then—comb through any piece of evidence to explain why he was the way that he was? How long before Lucien stopped? What had his childhood been like? While Elain had been running through flowers, chased by her adoring father, had Lucien been cowering in the forest and trying to hide from his hateful gaze?

It made her feel for him, putting Lucien’s behavior into greater context. Not that it excused how he’d treated her, but…at least her parents had loved each other. At least Elain had that safety. She started to reach for him before she thought better of it, hand falling to her side. Lucien didn’t acknowledge the gesture, didn’t react at all.

“Do you want to go to the garden?” she offered as the clouds parted for a moment, drawing cool sunlight into the once shaded room. Truthfully, Elain didn’t much care for a turn about the half finished garden with Lucien, who was still brooding over his thoughts. But anything was better than sitting as they were, awkward and uncomfortable and unable to even look the other in the eye.

Lucien rose to his feet. “I’m a poor husband and you’re a political pawn,” he said, towering over her. “He will always dangle you over me with the threat of harm should he think you displease me.” “Perhaps he doesn’t hate you as much as you think,” she said, heart thudding in her chest.

Lucien’s laugh was devoid of humor. “He doesn’t threaten you out of concern for my happiness, but to keep us both aligned to his goals. He knows me well enough.”

“What does that mean?” she asked as Lucien stepped past, rubbing the back of his neck.

Lucien glanced over his shoulder at her. “Regardless of my feelings, I don’t want to see you hurt.”

What are your feelings? Elain almost asked, the urge rising through her so quickly it pained her to squash it. She didn’t think she wanted to know. Nothing, she reassured herself. His feelings were nothing substantial, were those of a male forced with a female he hadn’t asked for. Elain had upended his life, had destroyed the romance he’d had, and refused to even pretend to want to be his wife.

Would it have been kinder to just give in to him?

“Neither do I,” Elain told Lucien instead, catching the way the corners of his eyes softened. He looked as if he might touch her before he, too, thought better of it.

“Come on,” he murmured, nodding toward the door. “Before we lose the last vestiges of light.”

She smiled, falling into step behind him.

“Whatever you like.”

LUCIEN:

Personally, Lucien did not believe Tanwen deserved the amount of thought Elain was putting into this one-sided courtship. As they stood on the lawn eyeing the sky overhead, Lucien thought it would simply be easier to tell Tanwen that Ayla liked him and let his brother figure the rest out.

His oblivious nature grated on Lucien’s nerves. Everything was grating on his nerves, truthfully, staring with Elain dressed in buttery yellow with a square neck that dipped just enough to show off the soft swell of her breasts.

He’d woken with an erection, his mind racing from a dream in which he’d been between her legs, mouth on her neck, fingers gripping her hips as he pushed himself deeper and deeper and—

Stop, he warned himself as Arina’s eyes cut toward him, brow furrowed. The wind had caught, blowing his scent away from his mate, though if he had to guess, he’d bet it had slammed into Arina.

She looked at him, those green eyes narrowed to slits and oh gods, if she figured it out, Lucien was fucked. She’d tell Eris, who would tell the rest of their brothers, who would dangle it over Lucien while they teased the information to Elain. Right then, though, Arina could do nothing at all but turn toward Eris and inhale, trying to banish the scent of Lucien’s arousal from his nose.

If only Lucien could do the same. He’d been half hard all morning, which did little to improve his mood. In moments, Elain would announce the start of the game and take off running, and every instinct demanded he give chase, pin her to the forest floor, and have his wicked way with her. Lucien wanted her so badly it was making a fool out of them both, even if Elain didn’t know it.

He was close to begging. Each night when he got into bed felt like the most heinous torture. Had Beron guessed when he paired them together? It was the kind of trick his father would have enjoyed. Lucien thought he would have preferred being strapped to the wrack while whips were taken to his flesh than spend another night laying inches from his mate, her scent burning in his nose.

Arina snapped her fingers in Lucien’s face, drawing him back to reality.

“Get it together,” she hissed, nodding toward a beaming Elain. “You’re going to scare away the birds.”

“Shut up,” he retorted, earning a filthy look from Eris. Cauldron, save him from mated males—himself included.

Elain clapped her hands over her breasts, causing them to jiggle ever so slightly. Lucien’s attention was refixed, his mind empty as he watched.

“Are we ready?” she asked, her voice sweet and soft.

Yes.

Lucien ground his teeth together, shifting on his feet as he tried—and failed—to convince his cock to calm down. How much masturbating could one male do before it wasn’t enough? He felt like all he did was lock himself up in the bathroom, fisting his cock in a desperate attempt to pretend he was fine. What was worse were his thoughts—he didn’t imagine Jes anymore, didn’t see her body, her face, her smiling mouth. How easy it was becoming to forget her entirely, even when he clung to the memories.

What a fraud he’d been. She’d known it when he showed up in Dawn and had been, perhaps, right to tell him to go. Lucien’s guilt tempered some of his lust, though that worked less and less as the days passed. What he needed was to know what she tasted like.

And he needed it badly.

Elain motioned for them to go, leaving the males behind. Every instinct coiled like a spring, held taut as he watched her vanish in the woods. Eris, too, had sharp eyes as Arina vanished in a blur of gold and green. Watching his brother abandon all his good sense worried Lucien. It had been over a year, now, and Eris didn’t seem to be over it. What hope was there for Lucien? Would he, too, be chained to this female he didn’t love simply because he wanted her so badly it eroded all his good sense?

“How long do we count, again?” Tanwen’s voice interrupted, blissfully unburdened.

Lucien and Eris turned to look and Lucien swore at that moment they were one.

“You’re a moron,” Eris declared with a heavy sigh.

“What the fuck?” Tanwen demanded, but Eris wasn’t going to elaborate, and neither was Lucien. Elain would kill him, and he was trying so hard to convince her to touch him of her own volition. To just reach for him and place her fingers against his jaw, to sink them into his hair—

“Do you mind?!” Eris snarled, rounding on Lucien.

Lucien opened his mouth to offer some weak rebuttal and, in his imagination, put Eris in his place. A scream, however, ripped through the air, sending the three of them running before they even thought about their actions. No one knew who was screaming—Lucien couldn’t be sure whose voice it was. That didn’t stop the terror from flooding through him, his imagination running wild.

It was rare to find monsters in the Autumn wood. Beron commanded soldiers, left under Eris’s command, to stalk through the woods and purge the creatures that sometimes slipped through the borders between Spring and Autumn. Spring cared less—Tamlin’s father had thought it was good for the humans to be afraid, to hear stories of creatures that could rip a body clean in half before feasting on the bones.

And the middle was teeming with them. They often slithered out, spreading across the continent to wreak havoc. Eris barked out an order that Lucien didn’t hear, nearly colliding with a tree in his urgency. He could feel the pull, the twin beating heart in his chest and he knew it wasn’t Ayla or Arina who was in trouble—it was Elain.

Lucien unsheathed his sword before he found the circling naga, creatures he hadn’t seen since he was an adolescent, slithering like snakes with their yellow, slitted eyes and their scaled bodies. Elain lay on her back, dress torn but otherwise unharmed for the moment. Lucien didn’t hesitate, stepping over her body so she was bracketed between his legs as he raised his sword.

“Run,” he ordered her the moment that first head hit the ground, rolling toward Elain as she stared, eyes wide as saucers. Their eyes met and though Lucien didn’t mean to beg, the words tumbled easily from his lips. “Please, Elain—go.” She clambered to her feet as more, glancing over her shoulder as another tried to strike at her. Lucien shoved Elain behind him, grateful to hear the whistle of Tanwen’s axe flying through the air.

Sharpened claws missed Elain by mere inches, slicing, instead, clean down Lucien’s face. Blood obscured his vision as white hot pain lanced through him, though Lucien couldn’t focus because Elain was still right there, ghostly pale and frozen in place. Did she need to see him get on his knees? To bury his face in her skirts and plead with her to go anywhere else?

“Lucien—”

“GO!” he roared, swinging his sword a second time to keep her from suffering the same fate. Lucien could only see from one eye and was certain the venom of the naga was in his blood. He had minutes before he collapsed to the ground—minutes he needed to buy Elain.

He heard her take off, taking his heart with him. There was nothing for a moment but the sounds of his brothers breathing, of metal slicing through tendon and flesh and the rotting smell of venomous blood.

“You’re going to die, princling,” one of the creatures hissed, yellow eyes watching with glee. “No faerie magic can undo this.”

Eris plunged his blade into the malleable, scaled body of the naga. It came not a moment too soon, as Lucien’s knees buckled despite his best efforts. The world had taken on a greenish hue, and the pain in his face had become cold rather than hot, filling him with dread.

“He needs a healer,” Tanwen said, grabbing one of Lucien’s arms as Eris took the other. He couldn’t make his legs work, forcing his brothers to drag him from the forest like he was still a boy.

“Oh, gods,” a female voice whispered and more hands found his body.

“Is he going to die?”

“No,” Eris said in that overly confident way of his. “Help me get him into bed.”

That was Elain’s scent trailing, the sweetness of honey mingled with salty fear. Lucien wanted to reassure her that this was fine, a mere setback and he’d be back to normal before long. But his tongue was thick in his mouth, his throat dry and worse, still, was that even he didn’t believe the words he wanted to say.

Naga venom was dangerous—they’d been warned as children not to get too close. Lucien couldn’t see out of his eye, could feel the scratches cut deep into his skin. Maybe dying would be a mercy, he thought wildly. Maybe she’d be freed of him, unaware there was a bond between them at all.

She’d go on with her life and he…well.

Maybe this had always been his destiny. Who would truly mourn him? His mother, perhaps. He doubted his mate would, or his brothers, or the family he’d never quite fit into. How many times had he wished he was dead as a boy, besides? When his father would lock him up in that dark, windowless room simply because Lucien’s presence angered him, Lucien would rail at the gods and wish for death.

They’d come too late, but they’d come all the same.

As he slipped away, he couldn’t muster up anger. Only relief Elain was alright. He tried to reach for her, prying open both eyes so he could see her one last time. That was enough, he told himself.

There she was, haloed in gold like a goddess brought to life. Her brown eyes shone with unshed tears, full mouth set in a harsh line.

“Don’t you dare, Lucien Vanserra,” she hissed as she swung her legs over his waist. He was too far gone to enjoy the sight of it. “If you die, I’ll find you in the afterlife, and I’ll punish you for it.”

A strangled laugh escaped him.

“Swear to me you’ll stay,” she ordered, unbuttoning his jacket. “Swear it.”

He tried. Lucien really did.

But in the end, he could make her no promises.

ELAIN:

“Please,” she said, on her knees before the High Lord. “He’s going to die.”

Beside her, Eris knelt too, head bowed so low his nose practically scraped against the floor. Behind him, Cadmus, Connall, and Tanwen stood like statues, their faces utterly unreadable. Not that it mattered—Eris had called for a healer hours ago and Beron had declared there would be no healer for his youngest son. After a hurried discussion, Elain had agreed to face her fears and beg the High Lord herself.

“What were you doing in the woods, Elain Vanserra?”

Elain cringed. She’d never heard anyone use that last name—it felt wrong. “We were enjoying the weather,” she said, eyes still cast downward. They could all hear the soft sobbing coming from the Lady of Autumn, though the High Lord paid her no mind.

“And you just so happened to stumble upon naga?” Beron questioned. “It’s my understanding his injuries are your fault.”

Elain’s heart hammered in her chest. Would she do anything to save Lucien? “Punish me in his place,” she whispered as Eris stiffened beside her. He could do nothing now that the words had left her lips, though she knew he disapproved. If this is what it took, Elain would submit to it. The whole thing was her fault.

“As tempting as that is, I’m not in the business of harming females,” Beron said, his voice oily. He was a liar—they all knew what he did to his own wife. This had nothing to do with Elain, truly, and everything to do with his dislike of his sons. “Lucien will either come through this stronger, or he’ll succumb…but he will not see a healer. Consider that your punishment. Perhaps, in the future, you’ll consider your actions more carefully.”

Elain wanted to scream. Daring to look up, a vision slammed into her with enough force to leave her breathless. Beron, his body seated on that twisted throne—and his head removed, rolling down the steps with a casual thud. There was no way of telling the day, the time, the hour—but Elain knew in her heart it was soon. It was the only thing that convinced her to rise to her shaky feet when Eris’s fingers curled around her arm to lift her upward.

Beron spoke, unaware Elain was only half there, but the Vanserra brothers knew. She could feel their gazes on her, their concern as Eris half dragged her out of the throne room amid the sounds of their mothers screaming wails. No one said a word as Elain dug deeper into the vision, bending it to her will.

“Cauldron, Elain,” Eris grunted when her knees buckled, but she needed to know. Tell me the day, give me the hour, she demanded of her magic, pushing with claws far deeper than she’d ever dared. The world melted from view, thrusting her into the vision so she could see, exactly, what she was looking for.

The Vanserra’s dressed for war—Lucien, among them. Elain halted to look at her husband, his once perfect face now marred with three long gouges that ran from his scalp down to his sculpted jaw. One eye remained as it ever had been, russet and lively but the other…the other was mechanical and made of solid gold. Stark against the warm brown of his skin, the eye only made him lovelier—and he was alive. They all were, united as they’d always been. Their blades dripped with blood splattered against the dark wood, faces bruised but otherwise lovely.

“Happy birthday,” Cadmus murmured, though who he spoke to, Elain couldn’t be certain. Her magic waned, pushing back. It wasn’t right to demand specifics—the future was changeable, malleable. She could warn Beron just as easily as she could say nothing.

“Where did you go?” Eris demanded when Elain was ejected. She found herself in her bedroom amid the smell of festering sickness. Eris stared at her alongside his brothers, all of them wide-eyed with wonder.

“Are you—”

“Say nothing,” Eris ordered, eyes cutting to his mate who pressed a cold rag against Lucien’s forehead.

“His death approaches,” Elain whispered.

“Luciens?” Cadmus asked, but Eris was shaking his head, lips curling into a gruesome smile.

“When?” “Soon,” she replied, uncertain.

“Eris,” Arina interrupted, unconcerned with Eris’s plans, “if you let me call—”

“No!” Eris barked, rounding on his mate and wife so quickly that Arina cringed back for a moment. “He’s not going to Day.”

“Dawn,” Elain breathed, the memory of his eye still burning in her memory. “He needs to go to Dawn.”

“No Dawn, either—”

“Eris!” Arina snapped, pushing away from the bed to face off with him. “Lucien will die. What do you have against the solar courts?”

Eris looked upward as his brothers shifted uncomfortably behind him. “Dawn is where…I sent her.”

Arina didn’t react. “So? If you won’t let me leverage my contacts in Day, then let me leverage them for Dawn. Or start planning what you’ll say as you bury him—I’ll leave the choice to you.”

“I can ready a horse,” Tanwen murmured, slipping out of the room before Eris could tell him no.

“I’ll take him,” Elain said, squaring her shoulders. “You can claim ignorance, can hunt us, just…give me the night.”

“I’ll find you before you can get out. You can’t go to Spring, Elain Archeron,” Eris warned. “You’ll need to travel through the mountains and into Winter—”

“I’ll warn them you’re coming,” Arina said, lifting her skirts. “I know someone, I—”

“Another male?” Eris snapped, forgetting for a moment that this was about his brother and not his jealousy.

“What are you going to do about it, Eris?” she bit back, eyes flashing with defiance.

Eris snarled out, “Write to him.”

Arina vanished after Tanwen, Cadmus going with her. Elain knew Autumn had hawks they used to deliver messages—perhaps he intended to send one ahead of them. Or, more likely, he wanted to get away from his older brother's rage. Eris looked as though he was unraveling, the stress of his family finally sinking him. Elain looked at Eris once Connall was gone, the last obstacle between her and this plan.

“You cannot fail,” Eris warned her as Elain walked around the bed for the dagger Cadmus had given her. “The journey will be difficult and you are soft.”

“Not so soft,” she replied, heart racing. “I won’t…I won’t fail.”

“If I catch you, I’ll bring you both back and the punishment will be severe. You won’t survive a night in the dungeons in Autumn.”

“You don’t know a thing about what I would or wouldn’t survive, Eris Vanserra,” she retorted hotly. Elain loved nature and so long as nature remembered she was not the enemy, they’d make it.

“You swear you saw his death?” Eris breathed, cocking his head to the side. “Was I the one who made the killing blow?”

“I don’t know,” she said, exhaling a soft breath. “But I swear to you, I saw his death.”

“If you ride hard, you’ll be at the mountains in two days. Arina will ensure someone from Winter meets you on the other side but Elain…”

“I know,” she said, looking at the bulk of Lucien. How would she get him up it? “I won’t fail.”

Easier said than done. Elain waited for the palace to fall asleep before rousing Lucien, who had moments of lucidity before falling unconscious again. He managed to stumble to his feet, one arm slung over her shoulder as they walked. Elain was silent save for her labored breath.

If they were caught, they’d be killed. Elain didn’t let herself think about that as she and Lucien stumbled from the Forest House, likely leaving a trail of blood behind them. How long before Eris begrudgingly called his dogs to follow their scent on the wind? Elain believed Eris would buy as much time as he could and prayed that Beron simply did not notice his youngest son was missing.

It was two days of hard riding to get them to the border.

“Lucien,” she breathed, turning to the man she barely knew, who’d risked his whole life to keep her alive. His remaining good eye was unfocused, trying to find her in the dark stable. Lucien’s powerful body swayed toward her and for a moment she was terrified he’d topple over and take her with her, likely crushing a rib or two as he went.

Elain grabbed his face, touching him willingly for the first time since they’d married. “Lucien, look at me. I need you to climb atop this horse. I can’t help you.”

Elain bit her lower lip when he didn’t respond, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. He had to do this.

“Please,” she whispered. Lucien reached out with a bloodstained hand, touching the soft coat of the animal beside him. She watched the knot in his throat bob, shoulders set with determination. She’d never know where he summoned the strength to haul himself into the saddle Tanwen had quietly prepared for them earlier that day.

Elain merely scrambled up behind him, seating herself between his powerful thighs. Lucien swayed again, causing Elain to twist, once again holding his face in her hands.

“You can’t fall over,” she said, reaching for the belt that once held his sword. With a little maneuvering, she managed to wrap it around them both, effectively anchoring Lucien to her own body. “If you fall, you’ll take me with you.”

Lucien’s head bobbed, forehead knocking against her own. “I won’t fail you, my lady,” he whispered thickly, lashes fluttering shut.

My lady. When had she become his lady? Elain shook her head of the thought even as her eyes drifted toward his mouth. If he’d been well, would she want to kiss him? He was delirious now and maybe she was, too, because her gaze lingered just long enough to make her want.

Shaking her head, Elain dug her heels into the flank of the animal. She’d use her own sight to try and outmaneuver Beron.

Whispering, she said, “I have enough vision for the two of us.”

Lucien’s head dipped, chin pressed to her shoulder. “You could leave,” he said, his breath warm against her neck. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

“I can’t,” she replied automatically, not thinking at all. It was merely a fact. The husband she hadn’t wanted had now become more than just an inevitability. For better or worse, their fates were linked. He’d saved her life—it was because of her he was currently missing an eye, his body ravaged from infection. “I won’t.”

The horse was faster than she’d anticipated, Lucien’s arms tight around her body. The belt helped when he swayed, and Elain managed, through the grace of the Mother herself, to keep one hand on the reins and the other dug against Lucien’s thigh. If it hurt him, he never said. At one point, his head fell against her shoulder, hair spilling down her front. He smelled sick, though beneath it all was the familiar scent she found too appealing.

She wanted to stop and drink him in. Elain didn’t understand where the urge to lick him was coming from and though she tried, she couldn’t quite banish the instinct. So she rode, driving the animal practically into the ground—until the sun was high above them. They couldn’t stop for long.

Elain laid Lucien on the forest floor while he babbled deliriously about nonsense. A bubbling brook was close enough for the horse to drink and rest while she cupped the cool water in her hands and brought it to his burning, overheated body.

His face was swollen, the red edges of his wounds scabbed green. She’d hoped, before her vision, that Lucien might preserve his eye. Elain had also hoped, perhaps vainly, that the scars would recede, too. His blood and his magic were trying to fight, but at some point he’d be to the bottom, depleted entirely and the infection would run rampant, unimpeded and uncontrolled. Already, Elain was surprised by the well he could tap into. She’d never seen a hint of any magic at all from Lucien, though she’d never asked him, either.

“Leave me,” he moaned when Elain used the hem of her dress to dab at his injuries.

“Stop it,” she chided in response. “There’s no need for gallantry now.”

“You could do better,” Lucien managed, arching his back as though something hurt him. Something pulled in Elain’s gut, urging her to move again. Get him help—save him before he died. It was an intolerable prospect to her, so miserable that Elain found herself pulling at his wrist to force him back on his feet.

“You’re not getting away from me so easily, Lucien,” she replied. Lucien twisted in her grasp, stumbling a step before reaching for her again. Elain remained where she was, though she grabbed his shoulders to keep him from tumbling to the ground. Opening her mouth, she intended to tell him to stop being so damn noble and just help her help him, but in his fevered delusion, Lucien had other plans.

Fisting her hair, he yanked her closer, slanted his mouth against hers, and kissed her. For someone half dead, Elain had to concede that it was a good kiss. She almost forgot what was happening when their lips collided, his free hand cupping her face with such tenderness that Elain wondered if he even knew who he was kissing.

It was the thought he might think she was someone else—that he was kissing some other female goodbye—that convinced her to pull away even when every urge screamed at her to stay. Lucien didn’t open his eyes, swollen as they were, though she felt like he could see her when he ran his thumb along the bottom edge of her lip.

“I needed to do that,” he breathed, swaying ever so slightly. “If I’m going to die, I needed to know…needed…needed to know what—”

“It’s fine,” Elain interrupted, swallowing hard. “We should keep going.”

Lucien shook his head. “I can’t—”

“You will if you ever want to kiss me again,” she declared, not bothering to admit that it was her who wanted to kiss him. A lot. Over and over, until they were both breathless and stupid enough to continue making bad decisions. Lucien didn’t need to know that, though. Let him think this was all his doing and she was merely helpless to deny him.

“Swear it,” he breathed, still tracing the shape of her mouth.

“If you survive, I’ll let you kiss me again—for as long as you like,” she repeated, hoping he couldn’t hear her racing heart.

“I want to kiss you for a long time,” he said. How typically male was it, she thought, to agree to survive if it meant he might get to undress himself in front of a female. Elain would take what she could get so long as Lucien clung to life for a little longer.

Anything but death. Elain would take anything but his death.

And she had no interest in examining why.

LUCIEN:

Life was a blur to Lucien. Vibrant colors faded in and out, always heralded by the same, soft voice. Elain hadn’t left him, though he was certain he’d told her to. Where was he? He had moments where he thought he was alive, where reality would seep in. Sleeping beneath a blanket of stars, wrapped in a blanket as the wind howled. He thought he remembered his head in Elain’s lap, sleeping fitfully while she cried softly, though he couldn’t be sure if that was a dream.

Lucien clung to a bargain just as tightly as he clung to their bond. Lucien didn’t care if he’d imagined the kiss—a kiss in which he knew she’d kissed him back, nails dug deep into his shoulders—nor did he care if the bargain was merely his infected mind spinning stories. There was the possibility it hadn’t been made up, and she had every intention of kissing him again.

And Lucien intended to live long enough to experience it fully.

There was nothing until there was pain. Lucien thrashed against it, refusing to die. “Stop moving,” a female’s voice ordered before the pain returned. It felt as if someone had taken a hot spoon and begun scooping out whatever remained of his eye. Lucien couldn’t withstand the pure pain, drifting in and out of consciousness until he half wished he was dead. This was more of Beron’s torture—Lucien was certain, given the way the pain radiated from the roots of his hair all the way down to the nails on his feet.

And then it was gone, and he woke, blinking blearily at frosted glass. Elain sat in a chair beside him, curled up beneath a fur lined blanket as she slept. There was something strange about her—some shimmering magic hovering around the edges of her skin he’d never noticed before. The entire room had it, he realized. It glittered blue at the edges, stretched around them like…like a ward.

Lucien rose to his feet as his fingers flew to his eye. A strange clicking greeted him when he blinked, and when he touched, he found cool metal beneath the pads of his fingers. They were in Winter, he realized, though he couldn’t have said why, or even how they’d gotten there. Standing in front of a long mirror, Lucien saw his shirt had been stripped from his body and a new pair of trousers that were decidedly warmer than anything that existed in Autumn now hung from his hips.

He nearly threw up when he saw what was looking back at him. Three long talon marks were cut against his otherwise unblemished skin and his eye…his eye was metal.

“You’re awake,” Elain murmured as Lucien stared in horror. He was ugly, damaged beyond repair—the proof of which was the eye now blinking back at him from his face. “I was afraid you’d die.”

“You should have let me,” Lucien said with more harshness than he’d meant. Behind him, Elain sucked in a soft breath. He knew if he turned, he’d see her perfect face as she looked upon his own. How could she stand it? Lucien needed to just tell her the truth about their bond and let her break it—she deserved better than—

Elain reached him within the span of a breath, palm raised. He hadn’t been prepared for her to shove him back, eyes blazing. “I spent two days on a horse,” she hissed, eyes blazing as she pointed her finger in his face. “I dragged you up a mountain and back down, and halfway across a frozen lake before we were allowed into the High Lords palace. And then I begged Thesan to send me help even though he had no reason to and I was no one at all to him, which took another day during which we all expected you to die, and a fourth after that for one of his healers and inventors to come, fit a new eye to your face, and keep you from succumbing to the infection that nearly ended your life. So don’t you dare stand there and tell me what I should have done.”

Elain’s chest rose and fell rapidly, cheeks burning red with anger or embarrassment, or perhaps both. Lucien was half chastened, still half disgusted. “Have you seen—” Rising up on her tiptoes, Elain mashed her lips against his, eyes wide open. Lucien, too, stared back unmoving, unsure what he should do. Was she trying to silence him or did she want to kiss him? If he held her against him would she balk, upset?

Elain pulled away, cheeks still a vibrant pink. “I have seen you,” she said, her voice breathless. “I like what I see.”

“You’re the only one.”

“Good think you’re only allowed one wife, then,” Elain retorted, flipping a limp curl over her shoulder. “My opinion is the only one that matters.”

He would have crawled over hot coals to hear her call him beautiful. To hear her say she wanted him. Lucien took a breath, trying so hard to hide how insecure he felt. “How embarrassed you must feel, realizing you’re attracted to me.”

Elain only shrugged, plopping down in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. “Not half as embarrassed as you should feel, thinking a couple scars somehow makes you ugly.”

Lucien wanted more—wanted to go to her, pull her against him, and kiss her until he forgot all of it. Elain bit her bottom lip and he saw the unmistakable look of guilt mingled with her defiance. He meant to tell her how grateful he was, but the door swung open and in walked a familiar face.

“Nuan,” he breathed, face splitting into a smile at the sight of her. Of course it would be her behind this. She held her mechanical arm before her without embarrassment and he wondered if he, too, would one day feel the same comfort with his missing eye.

She grinned. “When I heard the Lucien Vanserra needed help from Dawn, I couldn’t help myself. You look better than when your wife brought you in.”

Lucien glanced at Elain, the picture of health in her fur lined, cobalt dress. She was decidedly not making eye contact with him, which told Lucien she didn’t want credit for what had happened. Where were his brothers, he wondered? Surely they’d helped.

“You did a good job,” he told her, offering her a one-armed hug.

“You can see?”

Glancing around, Lucien drank in the weaving spells and wards that crisscrossed the room. “I see better than I ever did.”

Nuan offered a pretty laugh, her dark hair falling like a curtain around her soft face. “It doesn’t grant you anything more than your regular vision, but I’m glad you feel that way.”

Lucien blinked. “It’s—it’s magic—”

“Nope. Just a mechanical eye,” she said with that same, easy grin. Lucien glanced behind him to Elain, her slippered feet toying with a cream colored rug that ran the length of the room. There was no point in arguing with her and yet…Lucien knew it was different. Special, somehow. He’d never had the ability to see spells and wards before. He felt as if he could reach out and pluck them apart like pieces of yarn in fabric, though he didn’t dare—if Kallias had allowed them in, it was at the risk of angering Lucien’s father. No need to draw the ire of another High Lord by leaving him vulnerable to attack.

“Thesan hasn’t invited you to stay,” Nuan continued, unaware of Lucien’s thoughts, “but Helion in Day has said you can stay while you heal, if you like?”

Day was the only court Lucien was rarely invited into. More often than not it was Eris who went, taking over Lucien’s emissary duties to deal with the Helion Spell-Cleaver. Lucien had never taken it personally—Helion hated all the Vanserra’s equally, it seemed, and had only begrudgingly allowed Eris in when pressed, which is, of course, how Eris ended up with Arina.

“Really?”

“You can thank your wife for that,” Nuan said, nodding once again to Elain. “She’s quite charming.”

“It was nothing,” Elain mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

“Kallias wants to see you both, too, when you’re feeling up to it,” Nuan added as she stepped back. “Just to confirm, I think, that you will definitely be leaving.”

Lucien was still looking at Elain. “Got it.”

The door closed quietly behind them. “Beron is angry,” she murmured, finally meeting his gaze. “I was told to leave you to your fate.”

“How did you manage to get me here?” Lucien asked, creeping closer to his wife and mate. Did she feel it now, he wondered? Was this merely denial on her end? Surely she must have felt something when he was hurt, just as Lucien had when he’d heard her scream.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Luck?”

More like, a mate driven by instinct to protect, though he wasn’t going to be the one to tell her that. Not yet, anyway. Lucien needed a plan, first, and time to execute it. He’d give himself the time in Day to court her properly. To bring her to bed the way he should have on their wedding night, and then, once he knew she cared for him, he’d tell her gently. Give her space to come to terms with it…and then, what? Take her back to Autumn where he was certain she wouldn’t be safe? Where he couldn’t protect her?

Maybe, he reasoned, they could leave in exile in Day. It wasn’t ideal, but…it was something to think about. Lucien made his way to her, holding his breath as he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. He expected her to swat him away—to tell him she didn’t want him to touch her.

Instead, her eye’s fluttered shut. “Thank you,” he said, wishing he could convey the depth of his gratitude. “No one has ever…no one has ever gone to such lengths for me.”

“You saved my life,” she murmured in response, gripping the edge of her chair so tightly he could see the whites of her knuckles. “The least I could do was save yours.”

Lucien could only offer her a smile in response. Fate was a strange mistress. He ought to have known better than to question her judgment. Right then, right there, Lucien sent a silent prayer up to the mother.

Thank you for Elain Archeron.

#elucien #i was sweating this chapter today

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brabblesblog · 6 months

Text

Ch 7: And the roof of thy mouth like the best wine for my beloved.

Astarion has ascended, and she has stayed with him. Life in the Crimson Palace isn’t as idyllic as it seems. Is there a chance for their relationship to go back to how it was? Or is it too late for the Ascendant and his consort?

This series is about Ban, my Tav, and the Vampire Ascendant. Will be angst and smut, with sprinkles of fluff.

This fic is a softer take on Ascendant!Astarion and of the changes he undergoes after the rite. Can Ban handle the change, and if a chance came, would she choose to run? And can the Ascendant win her back in time? Inspired by the concept of vampire wives and that IGN interview with Larian that discussed the ascension.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

It is the day of the party, and Astarion slowly begins to find the side of himself he’s long hidden slipping out. Ban is all too happy to help.

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

The party was about to start.

Ban had yet to show up to the ballroom, and Astarion felt himself getting impatient. As he waited, his mind drifted back to earlier in the day, when she’d arrived in the carriage he’d sent for her, dressed in the simplest clothes he’d seen her wear in a while.

Without his input, she had shifted back to her old wardrobe, dressing down and picking more utilitarian styles, even in public. When he’d welcomed her into the palace, he hadn’t been able to help but curl his lip at her choice in clothing.

“My love. Why don’t you change into something more comfortable? Your clothes are right where you left them.” One glance at her face shut him up and ended that line of inquiry.

He wanted to hover over her, follow her around the grounds to see her reaction to the gardens and the other finished rooms as she walked through them. The palace had been her pet project for so long that he was quite sure that as much as she claimed to hate it, there was some affection there. However he held back, instead walking with her to their former bedroom.

“You are, of course, free to roam the grounds. You could take a walk in the gardens. The flowers are in full bloom.” He made no offer to join her.

She opened the door and headed inside, then blinked in surprise.

Is that…?

Yes. It was.

That ragged, dirty blanket he’d dragged along throughout their adventure. She hadn’t seen it since…

Since he’d ascended.

It was now laying on the floor of the bedroom, along with a pillow. It was cleaner now, having been washed at least, but it was definitely the same blanket, down to that small tear on the corner.

Before she could speak, Astarion walked in briskly and turned to face her, hiding the view of the blanket behind his legs.

“I’ll have your tea and lunch served wherever in the palace you wish to dine. Simply ask anyone, and they will provide. I will personally be overseeing the preparations for tonight, but I shall be in the dining room at noon. You’re welcome to join me.” The words came out in a nervous rush.

Ban bit the inside of her cheek, weighing her next move. She took a step forward and closed her eyes briefly. Just a quick test, she told herself. Her hand reached out before she could think too much, taking Astarion’s hand in her own.

His first instinct was to flinch. He braced, fully expecting to hear the loud bang that would accompany his body being flung away again, but it didn't happen. His eyes widened, meeting Ban’s as she opened hers.

“Just testing it,” she said, “Wouldn’t want to go to the ball unprepared and have you flying in front of everyone. That would be humiliating.”

He managed to muster enough presence of mind to nod, but hadn’t said much else. She touched me. He looked at his hand in hers, feeling her palm. She turned her hand to lay on top of his, her fingers finding his pulse.

His heart was racing. He couldn’t hide it from her, just like he couldn’t hide the blanket on the floor, or his desperate, pitiful need for her. He was frozen, a war raging in his head. The Ascendant wanted to grab her, kiss her, take her, but Astarion - her Astarion - won out.

He cleared his throat. “Does this mean that the spell is gone? I can touch you?” He heard the nervous lilt in his voice, but he couldn’t keep it out.

“Yes, but I can bring it back up the moment I want to.”

Their hands were still linked, her fingers still feeling his pulse. Before he’d ascended, she had always liked listening to his heart, at the way it sped up, just for her.

He covered her hand with his, sandwiching it between his palms. She had derailed his train of thought yet again. He had been planning to be his usual self today, but she had wormed her way through the chinks in his armor with one simple gesture.

She had touched him willingly. And then she’d held his heart in her hand. He despised it, but at the same time also reveled in it.

Ban saw it, how his gaze went from their joined hands to her face again, his eyes round and wide. It was a look she hadn’t seen often since his ascension and it melted her traitorous heart. She decided to give him a little break from the intimacy, an out so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed and lash out.

“Is the offer of better clothes still available? I think I wouldn’t mind roaming the gardens for a little bit.”

He relaxed, content to slip his mask back on again. That had felt a little too raw. “Of course. I have made some alterations to the clothes you left here, pet. I hope you don’t mind.”

He reached for the nearby closet, opening the door and taking out one of her old outfits without even looking. It was the most recent piece he’d added embroidery to in his free time. He held it out for her to see.

The backless extravaganza, the vendor had called it. They both remembered purchasing it when they’d first made it to Baldur’s Gate. Astarion had wanted to steal it for her, but she’d made him purchase it instead. The memory made him smile wistfully.

“Just buy it,” she said, laughing. “Or else I’m not wearing it.”

He scowled. “Darling. You know the coin I’m buying it with is stolen, right? What difference would it make?”

“I like the idea of you parting with your coin for me.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him playfully, and just like that, he reached for his coin purse.

“I hate you,” he mumbled as he paid.

Releasing the memory, Astarion raised the pant section of the outfit. The right leg now had roses embroidered on it. Ban took it from Astarion’s hands, holding the work closer to her face. She’d known he enjoyed embroidering, and had seen it on his clothes and underwear before, but she had never seen him engage in it since the rite.

It was beautiful, and she didn’t mind saying so. “You do very fine work,” she said, her hands reverent as they ran over the flowers. “Thank you.”

If only he had done this type of thing before she’d left. But it was too late for that now.

The side of his lip curled up in a half-smile. “I had some time on my hands,” he said simply. That, and too many things to forget.

As Ban moved to put the outfit on the bed, she walked past Astarion and saw the blanket again. Carefully she leaned down, picking it up along with the pillow. He almost protested, but stopped as she placed them on the bed along with her outfit.

“The floor never did wonders for your back, Astarion.”

His eyes darkened a little, feeling a bit cornered by the path the conversation had taken. He crossed his arms over his chest, closing himself off.

“The pretty thing I brought home last night wanted to sleep over, so I let him kip out on the floor.”

Considering that the bed was pristine and not slept in, Ban highly doubted that but merely nodded. The Ascendant straightened up.

“Well.” He clapped his hands together once. “I shall be off, then. I hope to see you at lunch.”

As he turned to leave, Ban gripped his wrist. The touch made him shiver involuntarily, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through his body.

She leaned in, smiled, and kissed his cheek - his reward for behaving relatively nicely today.

It was a quick, chaste move, but Astarion felt like he might swoon. He mastered himself swiftly and looked at her with a smirk.

“What was that for, my treasure?” His voice oozed with false, playful innocence, as he attempted to sexualize the moment in order to process it. He could not even begin to think about it in other terms without falling apart.

“Just a taste, my lord, of things to come your way if you behave.”

The Ascendant bristled. How dare she dangle herself and her affection in front of him like that! He deserves it - is even possibly entitled to it. But he knew that if he pushed back, she'd just bring her wards up and he wouldn’t be able to touch her again. He would probably rather die than have that occur.

The spawn deep inside him also knew it was a sign of trust from her. The fact that she had touched his hand and kissed his cheek of her own volition could be the first step in winning her back, and he wasn’t about to squander that.

“I’ll play along if it’s worth the reward.” He deftly maneuvered himself so that he was leaning over her, invading her space, a subtle but unmissable attempt to shift the tide of power his way. “What… can I expect to receive?” He trailed a finger over Ban’s shoulder to her collarbone.

“You’ll have to find out when you earn it,” she said simply, meeting his gaze head on. She no longer cowered or bowed to the Ascendant’s will, and to his surprise, he found that resistance overwhelmingly attractive.

His eyes locked onto her lips for one second, letting her know exactly what he was thinking. Then he pulled away. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

He’d been perusing paperwork at the dining table when she finally walked in. Astarion immediately put the parchment down and let his eyes roam over her body, taking in the sight of her in the skintight outfit. Every muscle and curve was very much defined with little left to the imagination, which was exactly why he had wanted to steal the ensemble for her in the first place.

He aimed to say something a little sexy and teasing, but ended up being sincere. “You look beautiful.”

She beamed at him, a smile that instantly made him feel a little too pliant and soft. He stood to pull a chair out for her, much like he’d done when they’d still lived together.

She sighed as she sat. “The gardens are amazing. Exactly how I imagined them to be.” Ban looked a little rueful, and Astarion took that moment and decided to press his advantage.

“They’re still missing something,” he mused, keeping his tone light as his fingers snapped together and the servants quickly served Ban her lunch and tea. “This whole palace is missing something.”

She laughed, a sound he realized he would willingly lay down his life to hear again. “Before you say it’s missing me, Astarion, do know that I am extremely aware of when you’re fibbing.”

“Flattering you isn’t exactly lying, Ban,” he corrected, “I merely say what I perceive to be the truth.” He picked up his fork and began to eat his lunch, an appetizer of fresh salad as his first course. “The Crimson Palace does miss its mistress. It needs your touch to be a home again.”

He offered her a small grin, but it was less teasing and more pleasant than the ones he’d thrown her way in recent memory. He’d slipped last time, told her he missed her, and he was trying not to have that happen again. This new, unflinching resistance to his will both vexed and enamored the Ascendant, so much so that he found himself willing to do almost anything to have her back. He wouldn’t concede to letting the spawn inside him free rein, but he was more than willing to make concessions. Instead, he decided to take measured risks, allowing himself bit by little bit of vulnerability.

She looked around the room, in no hurry to settle in to eat her own salad. Although the taste of mortal food was flavorless and unfulfilling, it wasn’t repulsive and she did occasionally indulge, just to keep some sense of normalcy. But she didn’t look forward to it, either. Her observations turned up no significant changes to the room. The table was still too big for the two of them, but it didn’t feel as isolating as it used to.

Astarion watched her begrudgingly begin to eat, then frowned. “I have an idea,” he said. He’d been doing an awful amount of thinking in her absence.

He tapped his temple, a quick indication of what he was about to do, then reached for her mind. As she let him in, he took a bite of his own meal, letting her perceive what he could taste as he ate.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and not just because he'd thought of doing this when it had not even occurred to her; but because of why he was doing it. Something to think on later. For now, she chose to enjoy the moment, eating her salad and letting his taste buds do the work for her.

With her salad quickly finished, she severed the mental link. He paused, the sudden emptiness in his mind a little unpleasant, but he didn’t react. He looked over to her and was surprised to see something he hadn’t seen in ages - affection. It had been so long he almost didn't even recognize it.

“Thank you,” she said, for the second time today. It was almost odd for Ban to be doing so. Their relationship had taken such a horrible turn that every single favor each did for the other had been balanced and counterbalanced on a scale of favors and resentment. This was… refreshing. And sure, there was the promise of something at the end of it all, but really - Ban knew she’d end up with Astarion deep inside her anyway; she knew he knew this too. And so all these favors he’d been doing felt all the more sweet, especially since both the embroidery and the food tasting idea were obviously not off the cuff things.

Astarion offered her a crooked, goofy smile in response, for a moment utterly disarmed by her. That smile, the one she had only ever seen when he was still her Astarion, erased all sense of control she had; she leaned closer to put a hand on his knee.

The contact made him freeze, and immediately he waved a hand at the staff waiting nearby, a gesture that told them to clear the room. He turned to her, the smile turning into a more predatory grin.

“Have I behaved enough then, Ban?”

She silently scanned his face, then picked up her goblet and downed her actual lunch - fresh blood. Her tea remained untouched.

“The day isn’t quite finished yet. However, I’m sure a small aperitif wouldn’t go amiss.”

With her impressive strength, she turned Astarion’s chair towards hers. He was taken off guard. Months of having her acquiesce to his every whim and seeing her do little more than lounge around the house had made him forget just how strong his consort was. His breath caught in his throat, and he was stunned for a moment, unsure if he wanted to fight her or if he wanted to fuck her. He thought it was probably both.

His hands wrapped around each arm of the chair, as if he was holding on for dear life. She saw this and knew she’d won this round. Ban stood, parting his legs with her thigh, moving in close and leaning down to kiss him roughly.

With his head tipped back to accommodate her lips, Astarion groaned weakly when their tongues made contact. It had been so, so long. His cock began to harden, and he couldn't help the jerk of his hips, rubbing himself on her thigh. Immediately she drew her leg away, stepping back, and he growled at the loss of contact.

“Don’t be bad and ruin this, Astarion. Remember - I can end this the very moment I decide you’ve gone too far.”

The reminder was enough to cow the Ascendant, much to his shock. On a surface level, he thought he should fight back - this was not how things usually went for him. In fact, this had never happened, save for the times when he’d been forced to endure it for some of Cazador’s victims. But deeper within him, he felt an odd sense of ease - that he wouldn’t have to think or decide how to go about this, that Ban could and would guide him through it all.

A rather belated moment of clarity hit him then. Had he allowed her to have him like this back then, had he offered her his submission, shown her vulnerability in at least one area, their love might have not become so barren. She might never have left in the first place.

He forced his hips to still, staring up at her as she broke their kiss. That cocksure look in her eyes made his own cock throb, and he bit back the moan that was about to escape him. Ban saw him bite his lip and snickered. Before she proceeded, however, she leaned in, her expression shifting to one of concern. When they’d lived together they had made love every night and they had indulged in similar play, but the roles had been switched. She tried her best to do what he’d done for her back then, even though she hadn’t exactly appreciated it at the time.

“Are you amenable to this, Astarion? I need to know, or we can’t proceed.”

He understood the question, understood that she wasn't asking if his ego could take it. She was asking if he could handle it.

He gave her a nod. “I’m sure. To be honest, darling, I’ve barely experienced it this way. But better you than anyone else.”

Darling. Ban was pleased. He almost never used her old nickname, not if the Ascendant could get away with using pet, or treasure.

She nodded, then continued, “We need a surefire way for you to tell me when you’ve had enough. Shall we use the word I used before?”

Another nod from him and she was satisfied. Wordlessly she spread his thighs further apart with her hands, then knelt in the space between them.

Astarion looked down at her, his shirt suddenly feeling too hot and constricting, his cock fighting against the cloth of his trousers.

The only sound that came from his mouth was a broken groan, and she laughed again. The sight of him like this - legs spread and pliant, cock throbbing, waiting for her next move - it was something she thought she'd remember for eternity.

Ban moved forward, getting up on one knee to mouth at his jawline, tracing sloppy kisses down to his Adam's apple then to his collarbone. He shifted his torso closer to her, giving her access. The scent of bergamot filled her nose and she inhaled deeply; he had always smelled like home.

“Be a sweetheart and keep your hands on the chair.”

Astarion was only able to nod yet again, as her hands found the buttons of his shirt and slowly undid them. There really wasn’t much thought left in him, just her. Her presence, her hands stripping his clothes off, and that almost painful pulsing in his cock.

She finished undoing all the buttons and paused to admire her handiwork. “Beautiful,” she breathed, “I’ve wanted to do this since the fitting, Astarion. I won’t hide behind false words and bravado like you do. I missed you.”

His eyes locked on hers. He wanted to say it back, but the walls were still there. Instead, the Ascendant whined. It was a desperate, undignified sound, but he preferred to show her his lust rather than the contents of his heart.

That low whine sounded like music to Ban. She ran a hand down his chest, down to his abs, and then lower, wrapping her fingers around the outline of his cock. He gasped, his hips fighting the urge to buck, his body trembling with the sheer effort of it.

Ban rubbed him through his trousers, and she felt dampness where his tip was, an obvious sign of how much he was aching for her. She flicked her eyes up to his face, and the look of wanton desire and need on it was almost too much.

“Do you want me to suck you, my lord?” She teased. She squeezed a little roughly, eliciting another sweet groan from his throat.

“Yes.” The word came out in a hiss as he fought down his instinct to push back and reassert dominance.

“Repeat after me, then. ‘Ban, my love, please suck my cock’,” she said, still stroking him slowly, thoroughly enjoying the sight of him so desperately needy for her. She was wet too, but she could attend to her own needs later. Besides, this was only the start.

“Ban… my love. Please. Suck my cock.” He gritted out through clenched teeth. He found that it was getting easier and easier to relinquish control as he parted his legs further and shifted forward on his chair.

“Very good.”

She moved to undo the buttons of his trousers, reaching in to free his aching cock. The first contact with the chilly air made Astarion hiss, his head already sensitive and still leaking. A bead of precum formed at the tip, and Ban watched it for a moment, then leaned forward to playfully lick it up. The salty, musky taste was almost too good to resist, and for a moment she fought the urge to take all of him in immediately, anticipation and games be damned.

“Ban,” he gasped out as her tongue made contact, his voice a little higher than it usually was. He had his pride; he wouldn’t ever beg unless she forced him to. But the way he said her name was more than satisfactory to her.

She chuckled darkly, looking at his face. She made a point to lock eyes with him as she finally opened her mouth and slipped him inside, inch by painstaking inch.

The sight of her, of his beloved, taking him in almost made him come on the spot. It had been in his fantasies ever since she’d left, but the reality was utterly different from his dreams and memories.

Before, he had fucked her mouth, grabbed her hair while he pumped into her throat. But now he daren’t even move, knowing that if she chose, this would end painfully and embarrassingly for him. All it would take would be for her to think of rescinding her consent and he’d go flying. So he held still, refusing to analyze why it felt so right to surrender to her, to let her rule over him like this.

“You’re thinking too much,” she said, pulling away for a moment. “Just enjoy it.”

He hesitated briefly, opening his mouth as if to reply, but she swallowed down his cock again and his words were lost to a loud, needy moan.

Ban sucked his cock the way she knew he liked best, her tongue running over that delectable vein at the top, and then sliding to put more focus on the tip. She could feel and taste him leaking still, his flavor filling her with want. But she knew she had to be patient.

Astarion throbbed in her mouth and whimpered again. The trembling of his body told her that he was getting close to losing control, and she stopped her ministrations. “You can’t come,” she said, “Not until later. Like I said, this is only a taste.”

He managed to glare at her, but there was little heat in it. He swallowed and then spoke. “Then I won’t.” He couldn’t help but challenge her a little, however, lips curling as he continued. “But I’m sure you won’t be able to resist yourself, pet. You’ll want me to come.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Ever the brat, hm?” She playfully slapped a thigh. “Seems like you’re done playing, with that tone you just took.”

Ban pulled back, satisfied with her handiwork. Astarion’s ass was as far forward on the seat as possible, cock still rock hard and proudly jutting out from his hips. It was glistening, slick with her saliva, twitching at the loss of stimulation and the cold air rushing over it.

Astarion was still glaring at her, but he huffed in resignation. “Fine. I’ll…” he had to fight himself for a split second, “I’ll do better later, little love.”

Despite himself, he’d been enjoying her dominion over him immensely. As she pulled away, he exhaled roughly, knowing by her gaze that he had little choice but to wait. He wrapped a hand around his cock, feeling its velvety length throb in his grasp. He was momentarily tempted to just come this way, but he knew that if he waited, the reward would be all the sweeter. So instead he tucked himself in, buttoning up his trousers, realizing he didn’t really mind having to wait.

Ban watched this with dark amusement. “I finished my lunch,” she said, showing him her empty goblet. “But I wouldn’t mind tasting more food again, if you don’t mind.”

Astarion smiled. He didn’t mind at all. This, he could easily give her. As he buttoned up his shirt and called for the next course, they linked minds.

The rest of the meal was spent in companionable silence, the sharing of sensations taking precedence over anything else. Astarion made sure to chew slowly, savoring each morsel for her.

And if she could also read his deeper thoughts? If she could read how much he’d enjoyed having her take control and dismantle his ego?

Maybe he didn’t mind that very much, either.

Tonight could prove eventful if he could keep his wits about him, and he swore to all the gods that he would. He couldn’t afford not to.

Bringing his mind back to the present, Astarion watched as the guests started mingling and the wine started to flow. The Vampire Ascendant, dressed in his blood-red suit, stood away from everyone, near the ballroom door, waiting for his beloved.

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glow-worms-are-believers · 1 year

Text

Rain on my parade

I can’t find it but this is inspired by that post about how if you create a lot of cold air (like Danny with his ice power) you could potentially create a cold front which would cause rain! So thank you, this was inspired by that wonderful science-enthusiast.

It had been days. At first, Bruce hadn’t given it much thought, forecasts were wrong all the time. That a supposedly warm and sunny day had turned into a near-constant heavy shower wasn’t surprising, so Bruce had gone about his business. When the second day of rain had come around, the vigilante still hadn’t thought too much of it, but as the afternoon rolled around with no change, he got on the phone to make a few inquiries. By day three, he had called Dick in Bludhaven and on day four, the younger hero had actually answered. Considering how sparse communication was between them since Jason’s death, this was an indicator that something was very wrong.

Bruce had already sent out feelers into the underground, he’d contacted some of his less savoury acquaintances. He tried everyone, absolutely everyone, and yet. Nobody had heard anything about a new villain or a meta with meteorological abilities. By day five, Bruce knew he had to do something before everything went out of control. Non-stop heavy rain was not only unnatural for Gotham, it was dangerous. Already, hundreds of homes near the river bed had gotten flooded and people were being forced to find temporary refuge with relatives and hotels if they were lucky and could afford it. There had been no death reported yet, but the longer this went on, the higher the chance of it became. With more rain there would be more flooding that would encroach on the normally dry land and that meant more people being left homeless, not to mention what would happen if the river overflowed completely.

“Bruce, I’ve got something,” Dick’s voice came through the communicator.

“What is it?” The man asked.

“There was a sharp drop in temperature near Milford about six days ago,” the younger man said.

“Send me the coordinates,” Bruce answered as he started putting on the cowl.

They finally had a lead.

Danny was ecstatic. This was the best vacation he had ever had. He owed Jazz so many favours when he finally got back. Not only was she currently covering for him with the parents, she had driven him to the middle of nowhere with his camping gear when he’d asked. She’d said he needed time to relax and this week where he was technically supposed to be doing some kind of fictitious space program was her way of making sure he got it.

The out-of-the-way location was ideal for what Danny had wanted to do for a while, which was testing the limits of his powers. He had messed around with a few of his ability: intangibility, flight, strength, before starting on the newest and thus most exciting one: his ice powers. Since he’d gotten them he’d wanted to test his limits with it. At first he tried to see how much ice he could produce at once and how far he could shoot it. Then it was how long he could maintain the ice and how long it took for it to melt. Then, he decided to find out how cold he could go. This took more concentration and he fell into a state of sharp focus as he sent wave after wave of colder and colder ice away from him. Time started to become meaningless as his ghostly body didn’t need food or rest for a long while longer than normal humans.

By the time he “woke up” six days had passed and he felt as relaxed as he had ever been since he became Phantom. Danny let out a relaxed sigh as he sat down. Jazz would come by tomorrow as they had agreed on one week. That meant he had one last day to do whatever he wanted before he returned to Amity and his responsibilities. This was going to be fun!

#dc x dp #dp x dc #All actions have consequences Danny is about to learn what these ones are #poor danny #he doesn’t deserve the full attention of post-Jason #pre-Tim Batman on him #roxpox #roxpoxwrote

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ominous-auburn-orbs · 7 months

Note

Royalteeth fic because your new writing gave idea! When looking for an exit the performers accidentally mess up the antivirus on the computer that sees Caine as a threat and screws him up, leading Kinger to be the the rescue

Sorry this took so long, I was trying to find the right situation to put them in. Enjoy!

"Hello, superstars! I've got a special excursion for you today!" Caine floated above the performers, addressing them all.

"Excursion? Weren't we meant to stay in the tent?" Pomni had seen what was outside, and there really wasn't much other than the void, that theme park and the digital lake. If they were going to either of the last two, she could already see how it could all go horribly wrong.

"Usually, but I wanted to show you all something! You've been asking a lot of questions about how things work, so I thought I'd show you all the game's code so you could understand better!"

With a snap of his fingers, Caine had teleported the group to a strange area with black surfaces and coding spread about everywhere. It was disorienting, some of them almost failing to stay on their feet.

"Here we are! This is where the game's code is stored. Just look around for a bit and all your inquiries will be answered!"

The others wandered the surprisingly expansive area, trying to make sense of the fast-moving words and numbers. If anything, it was creating more questions for the crew. Kinger, however, stared at one of the walls of text with a calculating look, absorbed by the code. Gangle thought about asking him if he knew what it meant, but thought better of it. If anything really was happening in his mind, it would be better to let him go through the whole process and tell them in his own time, rather than disturb him and risk losing the only solid information they could get out of the excursion.

Jax was looking for something interesting to mess with, but he still couldn't tell what was what.

"Hey, Caine! Any of this code yours?" He called to the ringmaster.

"Oh, why yes, Jax! In fact, i believe you're standing rather close to it! Just be careful not to touch it!" Just as Jax started to do just that, Caine remembered why everyone else now had horrified looks. "I shouldn't have told him that, should I?"

Unfortunately, it was already too late. Caine's body spasmed and changed colours as Jax took and rearranged pieces of his code, chuckling to himself all the while.

"JAX!!" Caine's yell pulled Jax away from the code and awoke Kinger from his reading. He reached out his hand and the rabbit's rubberhose arms twisted around his own body, holding him in place as well as being rather painful. Unable to keep balance, he fell to the floor.

Whatever he'd done, it had made Caine far more aggressive. While the other performers had no qualms with Jax being beaten to death, Caine also ran the risk of hurting everyone else in the process.

Gangle wrapped herself around his legs, attempting to pull him down and restrain him enough that they could fix what had happened, but she was promptly shaken off and tied into knots.

When Zooble tried to attack him, their parts were sent flying, with one of them hitting Ragatha hard in the face, knocking her down.

Kinger finally processed what was going on and rushed in front of Caine, hands up in a defensive position. "Caine, please, stop!"

For once, the ringmaster paused. His now altered code told him to attack, to remove this obstacle, but a part of him knew Kinger wasn't a threat. He never wanted to hurt him. Conflicted, he simply stared, his thoughts unreadable.

"Caine? Please, you're scaring me." Scaring him? Caine had scared him? That realisation brought some of himself back. He had harmed his performers; his superstars. He'd almost hurt Kinger.

Slowly, Caine lowered to the ground and walked to Kinger. The chess piece didn't move, not wanting to set him off again. Caine grabbed Kinger's robe and opened it slightly, wrapping it around himself and hugging Kinger close.

Kinger risked lowering his hands, placing one on the top of the ringmaster's head and gently moving it back and forth, feeling him physically relax. Kinger breathed a sigh of relief, then looked up at the others.

Pomni was untangling Gangle while Ragatha searched for Zooble's parts, a pile of them already in her hands. They all seemed a bit dazed, shocked by what Caine could and would do if something in his code went wrong.

"Uh, are you all okay?" The group looked to the pair then each other, unsure of how to answer. Ragatha eventually made that decision for them.

"We'll be fine, what matters now is fixing Caine's code." Kinger nodded, taking a few steps to confirm that Caine would walk with him before going to the wall of text that defined Caine's very being. No pressure at all.

"Hey aren't one of you gonna help me-" Jax was kicked aside to give Kinger more room. He read the code with intense focus, somehow understanding it rather well. Even he was confused by that, but it wasn't what mattered.

As he rearranged and added to the code, it came to him that he also had Caine's coding near memorised. Once the other circus members were back to how they should be, Ragatha attempted to go up to Kinger and ask him about his progress. Unfortunately, the moment she got close, Caine's head popped out of his robe and bit her, causing her to jump back. The chess piece hadn't seemed to notice. The performers then decided to keep their distance while he worked, Zooble also giving Jax a good kick to fully roll him out of the way.

Eventually, Kinger was finished. Immediately Caine snapped his fingers and they were all sent back to the tent. Jax was also unravelled, to near everyone's disappointment.

The ringmaster still clung to Kinger, put poked his head out to speak to the others. "I'm sorry, my superstars. That really wasn't the educational adventure I wanted it to be. I hope you can forgive me."

"Uh, s-sure, Caine. Jax started it, anyway. Just- just be more careful next time." Pomni was itching to go to her room and think over what she had been able to see. Nothing about an exit. She would have to ask what Kinger saw, no matter how strange the answer was. He knew something she needed, which could really be anything at all. Any knowledge was useful at this point.

Jax at least looked a little shaken, but not really remorseful. Still, he'd hopefully learned some sort of lesson. Hopefully.

"Of course, Pomni. Now, how about you lot retire? I'd say we've had just about enough of everything for one day."

The performers agreed, going to their rooms. However, Gangle had stopped for a moment to stare at the way Caine embraced Kinger. She had new writing material already.

#jax is my punching bag #I want him dead #caine x kinger #royalteeth #kinger x caine #kingleader #if you can't tell I believe in the 'kinger was a programmer on the game' theory

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helly-watermelonsmellinfellon · 4 months

Text

hi. alot is happening. bumming off wifi rn. i'm copy/pasting someone from a doc i started in libra office with no internet.

A LOT IS HAPPENING BEHIND THE SCENES AND I’M KEEPING TRACK.

The landlady has made excuses to not give us back the security deposit. She keeps having Dave’s boss call him in a foul mood will all kind of threats and accusations of things we supposedly broke/ruined.

1.) On our first night out of there she has already threatened to call the cops on us by claiming that we filled the house with perfume before we left so it’ll hurt her. What happened was we cleaned it because she demanded that it was clean like it supposedly was when we moved in(it wasn’t clean when we moved in). We used that Meyers shit, which has a pretty muted scent and is supposed to be safe for the environment. And it was just basic sweeping, dusting, and then doing up the ktichen and bathroom just to be safe.

2.) Today she has claimed that we filled the washing machine with motor oil to ruin it as punishment before we left. She swears the whole house smells of oil, after screaming about it smelling like too much perfume that was supposedly used to hurt her breathing. Mind you, mom is an asthmatic so we can’t use things with strong scents because it will fuck her up. If we bought oil, it would be for the van cuz that shit is expensive and we wouldn’t be wasting it on HER of all people.

By now, Dave’s boss is aware that she cannot legally withold the deposit and that she’s trying to use the fact that Dave is a dumbass, against him. Mom however, knows the laws, and the lease said nothing about not using scented cleaners OR perfumes, and she does not have a legit reason to not give us the $1600 back. If she took it to court it would not hold. She has to make an itemized list of her claims, Dave has to acknowledge whether or not they are true, and then it goes to court.

fyi I took videos of everything in the house. Bethy’s Room, Mom’s Room, Bathroom, Living Room, Dining Room, Kitchen. All items that were hers, such as the Oven, Fridge, Washer, Dryer, Toilet, Sinks,Tub/Shower, random Recycle Bin, and Wall Hangings. Inside and Out. All details were recorded before we left. I even recorded us leaving at exactly 11:23 PM Feb 15th 2024, and recorded turning the light off.

Let’s see if she comes up with something else tomorrow. ~5:22 PM Feb, 17th 2024

3.)

Feb, 21st 2024:

I’ve just been informed by Bethy that Dave has gone on to further embarrass us. He insists that he’s got all these racing friends(and tbf they promised to help fund a big event to raise money for us 2 years ago, and then ghosted him AND Bethy when they asked what they had to do to help) who will help and has been harassing them for money.

One of them, an active dirt racer, posted a screenshot with Dave’s full name in a text convo begging for cash. And then half a dozen other dirt racers, active and retired, shared that he’s been hitting them up for money too. How he was in people’s posts about random shit beggn for money and then how he got swindled under his own comment by someone mocking him and posting the same thing he did with a small wording change about leaving an abusive house and Dave not only fell for it but then said he’d try to help them.

And now the greater dirt racing community is aware of this and are mocking him and us and some are making inquiries about Bethy’s well-being in connection to Dave. And their wives are having things to say about how he’s a bad parent and she should be taken away from him.

And I need to remind everyone that this is to pay off a blackmailer who is demanding $300 a week now. Bethy got a bit more info out of him on that and it apparently involves a photo. And there are only 2 types of photos that can get him in legal trouble(since he believes he CAN go to jail over this). So either he sent an unsolicited dick pic, which won’t receive much punishment cuz he’s a man who LOOKS white enough. OR it’s child p0rn, and he’s never given that vibe out of everything fucked up with him so I’m not exactly sure.

But he walks around demanding to know ‘did anyone give us money yet’ and people have donated to the GFM and Mealtrain, and I’ve earned about $100 on Ko-Fi recently, and we haven’t told him cuz he won’t use it for anything good.

He’s been bumming extra money off his boss despite knowing that the van need fixing, we need hot water and heat, and several other problems that need fixing ASAP. And his boss is asking questions and is getting nastier and nastier cuz he doesn’t trust Dave’s intentions and shitty lying.

There is no lease. The owner of this house knows Dave's boss and they supposedly came to an agreement that so long as Dave fixes up this house, we can stay here in the mean time for free. They supposedly made an agreement that Dave's boss will buy everything we need to fix the house up and then send all the receipts to the friend who will then pay him back.

And now Dave's boss is getting so fed up with Dave and his wishy-washy behavior and begging for all this money all the time that he does not earn, that he is now saying he never made any such promises. And he refuses to contact the owner of this house at all. There is no recording. No contract. No signatures. No proof that such a discussion went down at all. It is Dave’s word(unreliable) against the boss’(the one with money and power here) word.

Dave has no way to contact the owner either. Cuz he didn’t think that was necessary apparently. He was perfectly fine making his boss the go-between until his boss got angry.

So our ability to even stay here is hanging in the balance.

Can’t wait to see what other bad news I’m gonna find out.

#poverty

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seelestia · 2 years

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ive been thinking, kamisato ayato with a reader that got their vision taken away. im curious, what would he do and how would he act hwhwwhhhhhwwww

— 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞.

[ prequel to recover. ]

word count: 0.4k words.

genre: ayato x reader, secret relationship, angst, took place during the vision hunt decree.

thoughts: assuming that your vision was taken away, you must be someone unaffiliated with the tri-commissions or a regular citizen... so, i thought why not make it a secret relationship??? 👀 ngl, i doubled over my seat when i saw ayato's name. (/j) also, i'm not sure if you're the same anon who has sent me brainrots before but regardless, ty for this! have a good day, mwah <3

it was hard not to break.

as soon as ayato caught wind about the confiscation of your vision, he had to conceal the briefest moment where his heart skipped a beat. no, he must stay calm, he mustn't falter — lest he risks raising suspicion among the shogunate and endangering the reputation of his clan.

but that extremely bitter taste in his mouth lingered still.

to lose one's vision is to lose one's soul. with your convictions ripped away from you, to where will you be headed now? no, you could barely even recall anything — and it pained ayato to see you this way.

the thought of the suffering people was already unbearable for him, knowing their desperate gazes that were laid upon his shoulders. the vision that hung from his waist, one that was called as a blessing from the archons, felt like a tool to taunt those who had lost theirs, even if he didn't mean to seem so.

kamisato ayato may still have his vision with him, he may never experience the loss of his ambitions like the others — but for someone whose lover he partially shared a heart with had experienced it all, he became familiar with the feeling.

"my love," ayato muttered. but you didn't respond, you didn't have any strength left in your body to.

once, when he called you by those two words, it would carve such a lovely smile upon your lips, but now, they were nothing but mere words that fell from his own.

his touch that cradled your cheek was gentle, he held you so gently as if you were a piece of fragile glass in his hand. but the resolve in his chest only hardened itself even further the more he gazed upon your lifeless face.

you had gone to a place far away from here, and the only way to bring you into his arms again was to abolish this decree. and he will achieve it, that shall be his promise.

this time, the commissioner stood up with a quiet flourish of his sleeves. a heavy sigh escaped his cold lips, "i'll be back."

he had no choice but to let go, as much as he wished he could hold your face in his hand for much longer. reality was calling for him and he couldn't ignore it, as much as he wished he could do so.

"my lord?" thoma's voice was a concerned inquiry in his ears. in the corner of ayato's eyes, he caught another glance of you. the last one before he resigned himself to this path of inevitability and betrayal.

your eyes were fluttered close and your chest moved a steady rhythm as you lied weakly on the mattress, thoma's homemade bowl of porridge untouched beside you. it was a reminder for ayato; that he needed to persevere, for you and for the people.

and exactly that, he shall do.

"please continue to look after them, thoma. i have matters to take care of."

"yes, my lord."

#i love this man if you can't tell #now i shall go back to writing requests hehe #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #genshin x reader #seelestial.inks #jumbled rambles! 🪶

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faemytho · 7 months

Note

I know I JUST requested one but a friend and I were chatting and I don't trust myself to give this idea justice, so if I'm not being too obnoxious...

"Nobody's ever been so close to me before." But it's specifically Eel, referring to 1 of his lines mentioning getting too close to him might get you electrocuted

AHHH I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. EXAMS,,,,. also BY THE WAY, i dont care if i get sent 1 million requests, if my reqs are open ill take em if i like em and if my reqs are closed ill keep em until i feel like writing em. those of u who spam my inbox with all ur ideas, i love u.

he/they eel, u guys already know lol

wc: 909

Abyss Monarch did not often speak their mind. As a result of this, they were rather observant. As a result of that, when they did speak their mind, it was always some kind of statement or inquiry that hit hard, full of only absolutely necessary meaning.

Perhaps Eel was used to it by now. They knew him fairly well, or at least enough that there were definitely unspoken feelings between them that neither of them seemed content to talk about. Still, the particular question today had managed to catch him off guard.

"Eel," Abyss Monarch murmured, their voice dark like velvet and cold like the ocean floor. "Is there a reason you're so jumpy when other cookies come close?"

Electric Eel paused in the middle of a gesture, the story he'd been telling regarding Anglerfish's latest woes trailing off into nothing. He looked at Abyss Monarch, who was settled comfortably on the mattress they used for a bed, which was shoved against the wall of the broken pot they called home. It was hardly anything fit for anyone who was called a monarch, but they were content even among the dirt that smudged the floor of their home.

Abyss Monarch tilted their head, waiting for an answer.

"I'm not jumpy," Eel said, tail twitching behind him. "I just think other cookies should keep their distances from me."

Abyss raised a brow. "So," they murmured thoughtfully, pushing themself up to their feet with mindless ease, "were I to come close to you, you would ask me to retreat?"

"Well, no, but-" Eel took a step back, and Abyss took a step forward. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. "It's complicated. I don't wanna hurt anyone. I give off way too much electricity."

"I doubt you could hurt me, my Light."

Eel stared at them. They stared back, but did not take another step, instead folding their arms behind their back.

"Come here."

"What?" Eel exclaimed, his hair frizzing up in shock. "No. I don't want to hurt you."

Abyss Monarch chuckled, an amused, dark sound that echoed around the walls of the broken pot. "You cannot hurt me, Electric Eel," they said, "no more than the Sea can reach the Moon."

Eel gave them a helpless look. They watched him debate to himself, staring at them, flexing his hands like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Finally, after a long moment, he sighed.

"If I hurt you, you gotta promise you won't let me near you again," he said firmly, but they could see his resolve dissolving away into the water. "Okay?"

"That is agreeable." Abyss tilted their head. "But it will not happen."

Electric Eel squinted at them. Slowly, like he was bracing himself, he stepped forward towards them. They watched him shuffle forward, careful and cautious, until he was standing in front of them, eyes squeezed shut.

How adorable he looked just standing there, they mused to themself. He looked scared, frightened, bristling up in preparation for something he thought might hurt them. A shock, perhaps.

"I'm going to touch you," Abyss warned, and lifted their hands to do exactly that.

He flinched when they cupped his face, tense and braced, electricity charging the water around them. Sparks danced over their fingers and down their arms, but despite the electricity, it only tingled. It was reminiscent of the feeling of a limb falling asleep, pins and needles, but not painful.

"You can open your eyes, Eel," they said softly. He cracked an eye open, still tense, but at the sight of them, he gradually relaxed. The charge faded. "I am alright, see?"

He breathed a shuddering breath, eyes opening and staring up at them. They let their thumbs rub across the skin of his cheeks.

"Can you hug me?" Eel asked, the words rushed and blurted out as though he hadn't meant to say them. Maybe he hadn't, given the way his cheeks darkened, and he averted his gaze. "Sorry, you don't have to. I just... don't really get them..."

Without answering, Abyss stepped forward and pulled Eel into a hug. He trembled as they wrapped their arms around him, stiff and unsure when they rested their cheek on the top of his head.

For a long moment, they stood there together. Abyss turned their face, closing their eyes and giving a contented sigh. Eel lifted his arms, and after another moment, wrapped them around Abyss to return the embrace.

"Nobody's ever really..." Electric Eel faltered, and trailed off, shivering in the hold of the abyss. "Ever..."

"Ever what, my Light?" Abyss Monarch murmured, their words quiet and soft and muffled into Electric Eel's mane of hair. They were content here, curled around him in the privacy of the broken pot they still called home.

"Nobody's ever been so close to me before," Eel muttered, the words soft and unsure, but he pressed against them, hungry and craving for the touch.

Their hearts twisted in their chest. Like them, he had grown used to the lack of touch, and yet longed for it. He was just like them. They held him closer.

"I'm not going anywhere," Abyss Monarch murmured, lifting a hand to thread through his mane of hair. He curled into them, his eyes falling shut. The dim hum of electric charge that always seemed to accompany him stayed, and though electricity danced over the two of them, Abyss did not mind it.

#abysseel #abyss monarch cookie #electric eel cookie #cookie run #cookie run fanfic #mae writes cookies #my writing

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gojou-violin · 1 year

Text

[2] vulnerability

| chapter 2: hotel date

| pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!oc

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. cursing. teasing. fingering. vaginal penetration. condom protected sex. size kink. toji calling seena "princess".

| summary: toji and seena go out on a first date.

| wc: 6.2k

| a/n: as usual, i love talking about this story, so if you have any questions about seena, the plot, etc. etc., feel free to send asks!

Was I late to work? Yes. Was it a usual thing? Absolutely not; so I received no cold threats from Principal Yaga to never let it happen again, and it seemed that the students were in classes, so none of them or their teachers bothered me as I shuffled to my office. Being the school’s first counselor, Yaga wasn’t exactly sure where to put me, so he ended up clearing out an old classroom for me to use. The space was far bigger than I needed. I tried to make use of it the best I could by turning it into a safe, comfortable area for students and teachers to hang out in if they needed an escape or someone to talk to, and it seemed to work for the most part because my usual patrons were Toge Inumaki and my two best friends, Satoru Gojou and Kento Nanami. Thankfully, none of them looked for me that morning, nor did they come to visit me the rest of the day.

However, I was waiting for something specifically. The one person who was always free to bother me whenever he made sudden appointments or during the days when I was expecting him for a weekly meeting. Megumi Fushiguro. He was a sweet, shy boy that had been raised by Gojou for a couple of years within Jujutsu Tech— So how he ended up even half normal was beyond me…

Together, we met to discuss his life on a weekly basis, despite his many protests throughout the year I’d been working at the school. People like Megumi were just so apprehensive about therapy. Especially when it came to Jujutsu Tech or sorcery in general, it sometimes seemed like it was a crime to step in my office, which was why most had a tendency to stay away. There were only a handful of people who would willingly talk to me. Megumi and Toge were my weeklys, Panda and Maki would all come and go as they pleased, and the third years and Ineka would rather die than see me.

It was unusual for Megumi to miss one of our appointments, despite how much he “hated” them. So when he didn’t show up that afternoon as scheduled, I worried that something had happened, so I tried calling Gojou who sent me a voicemail, and when I looked out into the hallway to see if I could flag anyone down, it was a ghost town. It was eerily quiet in the school. Where was everyone? Why was I not made aware of the fact that everyone suddenly decided to play hide-and-seek? Was it worth going down to the boys’ dormitory to see if Megumi was there and if he was alright?

As Harimachi-kun passed by my office randomly, I took the opportunity to stop him and ask if he had seen his classmate recently, to which he enlightened me with the fact that Megumi had been sent on a mission by Gojou. He was instructed not to come back until he was successful. No matter how long that would take.

I sighed to myself. “I love when he tells me things like this instead of having me sit around all day, waiting for a meeting that’s never going to happen.”

Ineka shrugged me off before walking away.

I managed to escape all possible inquiries about my tardiness for the rest of the day. Towards the end, though, I received another surprising text from Toji, “8PM. Dinner. Takanaka Hotel.” When I responded that I’d be there, he replied again with, “See you then.” It felt so official, yet so… natural? It was too odd to put into words that made any sense.

By the time I was done with work, it was easy for me to leave the campus to head back home. At one point or another, my friends and students had all questioned my choice for not living at the school like the rest of them where it was safe and convenient; and my response was always the same: If I lived with Gojou, I’d kill him myself. But the truth wasn’t so silly. In reality, I spent my teenage years growing up, learning how to fight in that very school… I never thought I’d go back. The second I graduated, I told Gojou and Nanami that I was leaving and never looking back, yet there I was, working at the school, seeing Gojou’s stupid face every single day. Living in the dormitories again would crush me. My soul would slowly cave in on itself, painful old memories would flood my every waking moment, and my heart would lose its kindness. I knew the power of that place. I knew the cost Tengen’s protection came with. And I also didn’t trust that I was safe living there where the Elders could so easily get ahold of me, even with Gojou there to protect me. He already had so much on his plate with the students… I couldn’t possibly be an added burden to him as an adult.

So I lived off campus. I lived in an apartment a couple of minutes away— Not so far that I had to take the bus, but not close enough that I could walk around the corner and be home within an instant. It was a safe distance from the school while also being close enough for me to get to and from work conveniently and at a moment’s notice in case there was ever an emergency. In this case, I was simply dying to get home to change for my date. I knew that was a selfish feeling. Somewhere out there, Megumi was on a dangerous mission, and I would likely have to prepare myself to meet with him following the assignment to see how he was doing; however, instead, I was going on a date with a gorgeous, built, tall man who, dare I admit it, seemed wildly head over heels for me. I liked being admired. When was the last time that had happened to me? I couldn’t recall a single instance… So why jeopardize a night or more with Toji for work?

I sounded like a selfish prick… And I hated myself for it.

But I tried to push that feeling aside while getting dressed. This was my night. I was going to look stunning, and no one could stop me. So I decided to wear a sleeveless pale pink dress with a lace collar that was connected to gold chains that held up the dress itself.

After a few minutes of going back and forth between the gold heels and the matching pink ones, I eventually decided on the former, because even though they were so tall they made me wobbly, at least they would make me feel a bit taller in comparison to Toji, who was a giant.

As for makeup, that was the easiest part to decide on. I didn’t like the hassle makeup required, even if there was a noticeable pimple or two on my face at any given time; so I stuck to what I knew, which was some blush on my cheeks, some highlighter on top of that and on the tip of my nose, and a light pink lipstick that I honestly wouldn’t bother to reapply later. Toji had seen me earlier without any makeup on and was still impressed with me. I saw no point in putting together a whole look that I’d be uncomfortable in. Some women loved to get all dolled up, and I truly envied their patience and talents— However, I simply just couldn’t do it, therefore I never even tried.

At the last second, just as I was about to head out the door, I stopped myself and spun back around to grab something that was hidden at the bottom of my underwear drawer. I couldn’t remember the last time I even thought about it. My life had been simplified to a daily schedule of leaving my apartment, working at the school, hanging out with Gojou and Nanami, then returning home just to repeat the next day. I never felt worried or unsafe. I was close enough to the school that if anything was amiss, Gojou and Nanami would know before anyone else, and they would send a whole army to come looking for me— Even if I were just in bed with a cold and forgot to tell them. But I was keeping this date a secret from them. They were far too protective of me, I knew that if I told them prior to the date, they would somehow stop me from going, or maybe scare Toji off altogether. Though I wanted to see Toji again and to go on this date with him, I’d seen far too many news headlines in my life of women going missing or ending up dead after dates that went wrong for me to not think about the worst. So, I dared to protect myself with something I forgot I even had.

Under all of my personal clothes in that drawer, I had a cursed knife that had been given to me as a gift for my graduation by Nanami. That day, he told me that he was proud of me for overcoming all of the bullshit I had to deal with at Jujutsu Tech, and that he was glad I learned enough from him and Gojou to actually make him feel comfortable enough with the thought of sending me out into the world to be on my own. Still, he wanted to give me something that I could use to protect myself against any danger I’d come across. He personally chose a weapon he thought I would like best. A knife with a golden handle about the length of my hand from wrist to the tip of my middle finger, and a sharp blade around the same size, or maybe just slightly longer than that. In certain lights, the blade shimmered pink. Maybe it was because of how it was melted down, or maybe because of how it was forged, or maybe it was the dozens of curses it was imbued with by Gojou to make it special; Whatever it was, Nanami certainly knew me well enough to know that I would love and use anything that was gold and pink. Though, he probably never anticipated that I’d slide it under my dress and strap it to my thigh for a date because I couldn’t get his voice out of the back of my head. “This is a stupid idea, Seena. Going on a date with a stranger. I taught you better.”

I looked at myself in the mirror hanging on the back of my door. Maybe I was stupid. Maybe this could really be something to change the rest of my life. Maybe Toji was the best guy I’d ever meet. I wouldn’t know unless I’d go to meet him. I decided that long ago when I first got the text. But still. Just in case… There was no harm in being prepared for the worst… Right?

I caught a cab out on the road to take me to the street since I didn’t feel too comfortable taking the train in a dress like the one I was wearing. Sure, I could have worn a better coat than the fur one I chose— perhaps a trench coat would have covered me— but I didn’t find that to be fair to myself. A taxi was private and convenient, it wasn’t the end of the world.

When I arrived at the hotel, I looked outside my window to admire the building just in time to see Toji waiting outside by the valet for me. I smiled through the glass at him. He was wearing the same outfit I had met him in: A black t-shirt and those tan loose fitting pants that happened to hug his waist so well. He recognized me immediately, like he had anticipated that I would be in a car and not walking on my own. So, he casually headed my way, flicking a toothpick out of his mouth at the last second before opening my door for me, and before the driver could complain about not being compensated, Toji paid the toll for me without a word. I blushed at how much of a gentleman he was.

As we walked inside, Toji offered his arm for me to hold onto, which I literally had to do because my small arms couldn’t wrap around his enough to link at the elbow like he wanted. Instead, I held onto his forearm with my small hand. He smiled down at me, I blushed up at him, and he opened the door for me like any real gentleman would. I could feel my heart racing in my chest. It felt unfair. How alone had I unknowingly been for me to be so shy and grin-heavy in front of him?

He led me through the lobby and to the left where there was a fancy five-star restaurant that was so loud with a full dining area that I worried there would be no spot for us on such late notice. Part of me thought we’d be turned away by the hostess the second we approached. However, I was thoroughly shocked when the hostess recognized Toji and immediately walked us towards the back of the restaurant where it was quieter because there was a lone reserved table waiting for us. I gawked at the situation while Toji thanked the hostess. He’d only met me that morning. He asked me out that afternoon. At what point did he manage to snag a table at such a prestigious place? The hostess recognized him, so did he pull some strings? Was I really worth impressing this much?

“May I?” he cooed in my ear.

A chill ran down my spine as his words coursed through my body.

“I wouldn’t dare to impose on the hard work you put into your outfit. Unless you’d allow me, of course.”

My eyes widened. “I—” And then I saw that his hands were hovering over my fur coat. “Oh.” I nodded and croaked, “Of course. Thank you.”

He carefully pulled my coat off my shoulders and arms before draping it around the back of my chair, which he pulled out and guided me to sit down on before pushing it in underneath me. My gaze followed him as he went to his seat across from me.

The waiter approached promptly to ask if we were interested in anything to drink. When I opened my mouth to reply, Toji immediately jumped in to order a bottle of wine. Then, without missing a single beat, he ordered our meals. I blinked at him dumbly. I hadn’t even been given the chance to look at a menu, yet what he ordered sounded magnificent, like he knew what I wanted before I even did. I knew that I should have hated it. People always talked about how rude it was for a guy to insist on ordering for a girl on a date, but… As ashamed as I was… I liked it. He knew which wine I would like, he knew what I would want to eat. He was perfect.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” he said after the waiter retreated.

“I’m glad I showed up, too.”

“Were you second guessing it?”

I shook my head. “My friends would call me insane for showing up tonight, but I don’t mind.”

“I’ll be sure to make tonight worth it for you, then, to prove to your friends that you’re not insane.”

The wine arrived. Toji took the glasses and filled them each equally, then handed me one.

“I never got to ask before, but how do you know Goj—”

Toji sprawled his arm out around the back of his chair as he cut me off to say, “I hope I don’t come off as too much of an asshole.”

I raised my brow at him.

“I have a bad habit of being too presumptuous.”

Oh— Had it shown on my face that I was shocked when he ordered on my behalf? I didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable! Fuck, I was an idiot!

“Tell me if I ever assume too much, I’ll knock myself down a peg.”

I shook my head. “No, no, you’re fine. I just… I’ve been meaning to ask how you know Goj—”

“That was fast,” Toji complimented the waiter as our food was brought to the table.

He was right. It was noticeably fast. The table, the fast service, the fact that everything looked incredibly delectable. Did Toji really know how to pull strings at a place like this?

“I hope you like it,” he told me.

I smiled and picked up my fork to try the first bite. Toji dug right in, not bothering to wait for me to catch up to him while he shoveled food into his mouth. For someone who knew how to get into a fancy restaurant, he certainly didn’t know how to fit in properly.

I beamed as I had my first taste. “It’s delicious.”

Toji grinned, “Good, I’m glad.”

After he was finished eating, Toji wiped his mouth clean with his napkin in one smooth motion before throwing it onto his cleaned plate. He stared at me for a moment. Leaning back in his seat, crossing his legs casually, his hands clasped in his lap, he grinned at me. I felt self-conscious eating anymore while he was watching me, so I sat there frozen. I couldn’t bear to stare at him… I tried to pretend like he wasn’t even looking at me… It wasn’t working…

“What’s your technique?” he asked curiously.

My hand slipped on my fork. “Wha—” I panicked and blushed.

I was far too clumsy in front of him, I would have to be the first to admit that. Between spilling coffee on him then allowing my fork to clatter like that in public, making others jump with shock— But not Toji, of course— I was certainly creating a bad image of myself.

“What do you mean?” I tried to hide my embarrassment behind my glass of wine.

“Your cursed technique.”

“Oh.” I knew that.

I calmly set my drink down, then explained simply that I could manipulate other people’s emotions. Toji didn’t seem content with that answer. I could tell just by looking at him that he was hoping for more of a response than that, but I was far too shy to explain it to the point that I’d start to brag about myself like Gojou did constantly. The only way I could expand without feeling like I was doing too much was by explaining that by touching someone, I could feel what they were feeling to better understand them, and I could also influence new emotions within that person, which was why I decided to become a counselor at Jujutsu Tech in Tokyo.

That was it.

To my surprise, Toji didn’t laugh. Most people laughed when they found out about my cursed technique because it was such a useless power at face value, and according to some people it fit my small and innocent appearance and aura. Yet, he didn’t laugh. In fact, he hummed an agreement and said that he thought it was an interesting technique and that it suited me— Not because I was too small and fragile to fight, but because I looked like someone who enjoyed helping others, which was ultimately true.

It was for that reason that I flagged down the waiter for the bill. Toji smirked and insisted on paying. We were upstairs within minutes, a hotel room keycard in Toji’s left hand as he dragged me through the hallways with the other, but he was kind enough to be patient with me in my heels with my short stride, unlike Nanami and Gojou who always left me in the dust. He opened the door for me like a gentleman, and the second we were inside, he had me up against the wall, his lips on mine. I wasn’t shocked that he was a good kisser. Toji had already excelled at everything else, of course he would be a good, aggressive kisser. He threw the keycard on the floor so that he could grab me by the hips before hoisting my up high enough for me to wrap my legs around his waist as he carried me towards the bed, gently setting me down while he went to kiss my neck slowly, a sudden pace change from the aggressive kisses he’d been attacking my lips with.

“Is this alright?” he mumbled against my skin.

I nodded, not a thought in my head.

“Say it.”

I whined at my own embarrassment after croaking out a quiet, “It’s more than alright…”

He made sure to take his time undressing me like I was a gift he wanted to savor the feeling of unwrapping on his birthday. While I sat at the edge of the bed, Toji kneeled in front of me and put my left leg up on his shoulder so that he could shower me in slow kisses that trailed from my ankle to the bottom of my skirt. His kisses brought my guard down. He was able to easily unclasp my heel and slide it off my foot before I even realized it, and then he did the same to the other leg. I was practically melting already and he hadn’t even done anything yet. Though, to be fair, every time he inched towards my skirt, I thought there would be a moment before he’d take a peek underneath, but he didn’t; Not until he gently put my feet back on the ground and he finally moved his hands under my skirt. My breath hitched at the feeling. It was ticklish to my sensitive areas. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been touched on my thighs by anyone but me, and in such a lascivious manner? I felt like I couldn’t breathe suddenly. I was so overwhelmed in the best of ways. I hoped that he would never stop. Touch me anywhere and everywhere, I wouldn’t have argued a single bit so long as he was doting.

He tsked to himself. I snapped my eyes open to look at him with worry from thinking that something was wrong, yet I found him smirking. While looking straight at me, he found the knife strapped against my thigh, laughed, and unsheathed it. I stiffened as I felt the blade run against my skin. One wrong move and he could have cut me— But it didn’t seem like that was his intention at all. He was meticulous with how he kept the blade flat instead of on its sharp edges. Finally, when he reached my knee, he removed the knife from my touch, and I watched as he spun it between his fingers a couple of times while admiring how pink and perfectly polished and sharpened it was.

“For me, I assume?”

I blushed. “It was a precaution.”

“Good. You’re a smart girl.” He carefully set the knife on the bedside table where it was still within reach, but it wasn’t within eyesight to keep either of us distracted.

As he stood up, he kept his hands on me, slowly moving them upwards towards my hips, despite the fact that I was getting goosebumps because of how it tickled. He then easily picked me up and tossed me a bit further back on the mattress so that he could kneel between my legs. He completely towered over me. I knew it when we were standing side by side that he was far bigger than I was, but I didn’t realize what the true comparison was until he was hovering, his hands on either side of my shoulders— There would need to be two of me glued together to even try to amount to his size. Did I find him scary while I was under him? Absolutely not. He was very kind and generous with the way he put his hands on me and kissed me delicately. It was like I was a frail rose that he was trying to protect so that he could later cultivate into a giant garden. How could I be scared of someone who took such care with me?

“You’re so small, princess.”

I gulped. Toji smirked, his face coming close to mine for a kiss while his hands wandered so that he could push my skirt up to my waist. He had so much time to undress me, yet I never had a chance to do anything other than kiss him back after he kissed me first. What was underneath those tight black shirts of his? How about those loose, comfortable pants he had the audacity to even wear to a date. I wanted to see him. Badly. So, while his hands were preoccupied with revealing what was underneath my dress, I pulled at his shirt to untuck it from his pants, and once I had done that, Toji knew exactly what I wanted, so he helped me the rest of the way by taking his shirt off entirely. I found myself gawking at him.

There were scars all over his body, from collarbone to hips where his V-line was. Some were small cuts, others were slashes across his chest, and a few were noticeable stab wounds. I knew it was perhaps wrong of me to do so, yet, I couldn’t help but run my hands over each and every one of the scars. To my surprise, Toji was a bit ticklish— Though he wouldn’t outright admit it— but I could tell by the way his body tensed under my touch, his abs contracting to really define the hard work he had put into maintaining his physique.

Toji began to unclasp my dress from the frail collar around my neck while I messed with the hem of his pants. I eagerly pushed at the fabric to get it to roll down his hips, yet Toji flexed so intensely that it wouldn’t budge until he wanted it to. First, he had to see me. I wore such a pretty dress for him, of course he would want to see what I looked like underneath all the effort I put in for him. Part of me expected that he’d take off my collar before continuing. I thought that he wanted everything off of my body so that after my dress was gone it was just me. Bare. Yet Toji didn’t mess with the collar a single bit— and I was beginning to believe that it was for good reason when I felt his excitement spike while looking at it.

With one smooth motion, Toji carefully lifted the dress over my head. He smiled at me. Underneath, I was anything but a prude with my dainty and alluring white lingerie. Suddenly I could feel that he was treating me like a porcelain doll that needed to be carefully handled during the next step or else I’d crack into a thousand pieces. So, Toji gently slid the straps of my bra off my shoulders. I felt the pressure fade away. The strain on my back disappeared as the weight shifted to my breasts after he reached around to undo the clasps. A moan of relief left me.

“Toji-san,” I whimpered.

“Yeah, princess?”

“More…”

He smirked. “More of what?”

“Anything— Something— You!”

He tsked happily. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll have me soon enough.” He wasted no time in pulling my panties down and off my ankles, discarding them to the side so that they were completely out of mind. “So precious…” he whispered to himself. “So…” His breath shook as his palms ran over my thighs, his thumbs awfully close to where I needed him most. “Gorgeous.”

“You’re teasing,” I pouted.

“No, no, no.” He spread my legs to reveal myself to him. “I’m just admiring how perfect you are. Can’t I do that, baby?”

As he rolled a thumb over my clit, I whimpered and turned so that I could hide my face in my bicep.

He squeezed my cheeks between his fingers. “What are you doing, baby? Why are you getting all shy on me?” He smirked as he saw me gulp and blush. “‘Cause it feels good?” He continued to toy with my clit while I whined and writhed a bit under him. “That the spot?”

There was nothing I could think to say when my brain was melting. He slowed his pace until he was at a standstill so that he could remove his touch without too much protesting from me because he reached into his pocket to grab a condom.

I gulped again as he ripped the wrapper open with his teeth.

Finally, Toji did as I had been desperate for since this all began at the doorway. He pushed his pants to his knees that were holding steady between my legs, revealing his… quite impressive length to me. I shifted uncomfortably. I knew he said I was small, but I never imagined that I’d be faced with that. How was it supposed to…

“You alright?” he asked as he put his hands on either side of my head to brace himself.

I nodded. “Go slow?”

He kissed me delicately as he aligned himself with my dripping entrance. “Breathe.”

As I inhaled through my nose and kissed him harder, he pressed in gently, stretching my entrance to an extent that made me gasp and claw at the sheets.

“Toji— Fuck—”

“What is it, princess?” he questioned.

“Too big—”

He slid in some more.

“Too big— Fuck— ‘s too big—”

“That’s just ‘cause you’re so small, princess… Just relax… You can take all of me, I know you can, baby, just breathe and hold onto me.”

I grabbed onto his wide shoulders and braced myself for the last two inches or so. My nails dug in. I thought for a moment that I was hurting him, but surely it was no worse than what he was doing to me, and he would’ve told me to stop if he wanted— The same way I would have told him to stop if I wanted. Instead, we kissed harder.

Once he was settled in, Toji wasted no time thrusting in and out to maintain a solid pace for the sake of friction. He grunted into my mouth. It was a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine because it made me think about how he— A very stoic, scary man— was making noise because of me. Men needed to make more noises in bed. The fact alone that all he did was grunt was actually enough to send me spiraling. I dug my nails in more while begging him to fuck me and faster, to use me however he wanted. Toji took the sentiment to heart. He kept one arm propped next to my head while the other went down to my clit to make sure I stayed in euphoria with him as he fucked me towards an orgasm. Men were so easy. I could even tell that for how handsome and desirable he was, it had been a while for him. I knew it because it looked like he was trying his best to hold out for me, to impress me by lasting a while or by making me cum first, yet the way his stomach tensed and his brows furrowed, I knew that he was already on the brink without needing much work.

“You’re so— Fuck— So tight… So, so tight…”

He groaned again as he started leaving a hickey on my neck. I ran my fingers through his hair, tugging once I had a solid grip.

He hissed. “Don’t tease me, princess.”

I rolled my hips to play with him and to flick his finger over my clit again. “I’m close.”

Despite the fact that he was teetering on the edge, Toji took one deep breath in before going even faster. The sound of sweaty skin slapping together echoed throughout the entire hotel room. It was perverted. If my friends knew that I was fucking a random guy the night I met him, I knew for a fact that they were going to scold me, but Toji was… He was everything by being gorgeous, courteous, smooth, and such a forward flirt. He didn’t have to be the perfect gentleman by societal standards when everything he had done checked all of the marks for me, the person it mattered most to. Thinking back on it, I would have dragged him out of the coffee shop in the morning just to do this sooner, if it hadn’t been for the fact that I was already running late for work. I knew that it was stupid. I knew that it was pathetic. I knew that it was desperate. But none of it was anything to convince me that the moment Toji sent me over the edge with an orgasm wasn’t worth it.

He played with my clit and fucked me as hard as he could; and once he felt me cumming around him, tightening even more than I already was, he moaned my name in my ear, his hips pressing all the way up against mine as he came, too. I loved how he moaned my name. It was the best sound in the world. I wished that I could have forced him to do it again… But that would have been too desperate.

With another grunt, this time more gentle and quiet, Toji slowly pulled out of me. He got back up on his knees to throw the condom away before escaping to the bathroom. Reality hit me once he was gone. What had I done? Was I really this fucking stupid? Toji looked like the type of guy to get some action then leave without a single thought… I really was an idiot. I’d made a mistake. I was only getting my feelings hurt now.

“How’d’ya?” he asked, walking back towards the bed with a wet washcloth in hand.

I watched him carefully. “I…” As he gently started washing the sweat and cum away from my body, I gasped. “I’m fine—”

He kissed my left hip. “Good.”

After generously— And albeit, embarrassingly— cleaning me, Toji disregarded the towel easily by throwing it carelessly somewhere in the direction of the bathroom before leaning in to kiss me again. He was so gentle. What had been so fast and animalistic only a few moments ago was now incredibly tender to the point it made my heart skip a beat.

Toji rolled off me, pulling me by the hips ‘til I was on top of him, my legs straddling his waist. I accepted my fate. I melted into his chest, grabbing onto the ends of his hair to keep my hands busy while I listened to his heart beating quickly as he tried to catch his breath. He wasn’t as warm as I thought he’d be after all that. It seemed like he was actually getting most of his body heat from me laying on top of him.

He groaned. “Can you do me a favor?” He shifted uncomfortably underneath me.

Oh— I had overstayed my welcome on top of his body, understably; so after realizing that I was being a burden, I started rolling off of him, yet he stopped me. I stared at him, baffled. If he wanted me there, then what did he mean?

“No, I want you right here all night, princess, don’t move a muscle. I just meant I need your help sleeping…” He wiped his hair out of his face “casually” so that I wouldn’t see his embarrassment, yet I caught the tail end of it. “Would you mind?”

I didn’t mind whatsoever, in fact. Most people didn’t think twice before asking me something like that, which sometimes made me feel used, but Toji had asked with such sincerity and concern towards my own feelings about using my technique on him, that I truly didn’t see any issues with it. My powers made it easy to help people with things like this. Sleeping, waking up, numbing pain, feeling happy, I could do all of that in my sleep, so I didn’t mind spending what little energy it took to make him get a good night’s rest for once.

I smiled at him. “Ready?”

He nodded.

I cupped my hand on the side of his head, my thumb resting on the middle of his forehead. I was already exhausted from my long day at work and then from everything Toji had done to me that it was easy for me to take that emotion and stretch it like a rubber band before it snapped into its own emotion that I could turn into cursed energy that I could paste into Toji. Within an instant, his eyes fluttered shut, and I heard him snore. I chuckled and put my head back on his chest. He was already sound asleep, thanks to my technique, yet his arms still managed to find enough strength to constrict around me a little more so that I truly couldn’t leave him, not that I wanted to.

taglist: @aylitgirl , @thisbicc , @tojis-discord-kitten , @sailewhoremoon , @justanotherpasserby-blog , @lyteatus , @unknownspecies , @sunnydays-funnydays , @mochikisses , @hyperwithbackpain , @whosarlet , @jianyi22

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souonsu · 2 years

Text

Genshin Modern AU Headcannons: Texting Styles

Warning: There’s cursing (because someone was being rude and an ass to one of the characters OTL) and mentioning of 18+ things.

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Dainsleif, Ajax/Tartaglia All imagines are with a GN reader. 😘

(Note: I’m listing these headcannons under my Genshin modern AU, but these headcannons work as standalones regardless of my AU ideas.)

Diluc: He keeps things simple and to the essentials.

Proper Grammar.

Keeps autocorrect and autospelling, auto anything is kept enabled. If there's quality-of-life functions to be utilized, they will be used.

Will definitely unsend/delete messages if there are enough errors or just doesn't like it and then retypes and sends it again. Otherwise, he’ll follow up with text correction with an asterisk (though it's rarely seen unless it's a particular slang or name spelling).

Rarely uses "lol" in favor of "haha" OR even rarer, the laughing emoji when he’s actually laughing harder than usual.

He does use some some abbreviations and convenient shorthands that just help with cutting down on time spent typing.

On that note of emojis, Diluc uses emojis sparingly, but you'll see it more often if he feels that he’s close to you and will sound a little more casual.

He is most often using the normal smiley, 🙂.

Tends to keep his texts short and to the point, but once in awhile....you may see longer texts from him if he’s explaining something. Nothing outrageous because he gives rather clear instructions and cuts all the fluff. That’s typical of him.

While they are to the point, they aren’t curt or cold (unless your POV is kaeya....in which that case Diluc really becomes curt).

You’ll feel his emotions come through. His warmth will show up in his text when he’s concerned or his silent anger....when he’s angry....(I encourage all to evacuate the premise if you feel endangered in any way.)

How long does it take for him to reply: He’ll usually get back to you or he’ll give you a timeframe of when he’ll get back to you or answer your text/inquiry. He’s usually on top of his responses unless he’s super busy, in which he’ll apologize for the long wait and get right into responding.

He’lll try not to leave you on read, unless of course the aforementioned busy state he could be in considering his workload or assignments OR unless you’re Kaeya. Yeah, he can be cold to his bro. Just doesn’t have time for his shenanigans sometimes.

Sample of getting back to you about your proposal:

D: Just looked through it. I have made notes on the margins for suggestions. Of course, these are just suggestions. Feel free to ignore them if they’re irrelevant. D: All right, ttyl. Send me your revised proposal if you want me to look through it again. D: Just finishing up my own and submitting it before the end of the week.

Sample of him texting you if you two are dating:

D: Morning, y/n.🙂 D: Just wanted to text you that before you get out today. D: I’ll be honest. I couldn’t sleep last night. Probably just nerves. Kaeya would laugh at me if I told him, which is why I won’t. D: I can’t wait to see you in a bit. D: Please text me if anything comes up.

Yes, yes. He’s so sweet. Please let me have him. Also, he definitely debated which emoji to send in that second to last text. “Is another smiley emoji too eager? How about 🥰? No...no. That’s too much.” It reminded him too much of what Kaeya would do and he just mentally eyerolls or groans in response. The reminder causes him pain and makes him feel embarrassed. “Maybe I shouldn’t add an emoji at all? Ugh. There...I sent it.” By the way, he really wanted to send this emoji, 😌, because that’s how he felt, but didn’t. Although, he immediately starts second guessing himself and wishes he could retract it, but ultimately accepts it. He accepts his fate.

When the two of you start dating for longer, he won’t have to second guess himself anymore because you’ll know him so well. Be easy on him, he doesn’t have any dating experience, but boy does he try. He tries his best on top of Kaeya laughing at him at every turn.

As a side thing, Diluc would be real shy and quiet whenever you guys are talking on the phone because he feels like it’s surreal to hear your voice over the phone. He feels like phone calls are more intimate. Staying quiet is a good way for him to hide his nervousness from you.

Kaeya: He keeps things classy and relatively chill. 😉

Proper Grammar and stylistically due to his literature background.😏

Keeps auto-punctuation enabled, but has autocorrect/auto-spelling off because he knows how to spell (occasionally forgets the spelling of the flavorful and less used words), but also because he just likes to use slang and make sure his phone doesn’t autocorrect the names he types.😕

He’ll use abbreviations in texting like your lols and lmaos, ttyl, imo, and so on, Not the type to make up abbreviations of his own unless they’re inside jokes between you two.😀

Yes, he’ll use quotations as “air quotations” and expect to see italics for all things sussy.

If you haven’t caught on yet, yes, the smug emoji is representative of him 😏 and is seen in most of his texts because he knows the tea and wants to know other people’s tea.

You can kind of expect him to use all the emojis at his disposal except the really loud ones like: 🤬🥵😭🙀. Yeah sorry, he doesn’t do cat emojis...but he might make exception if the person he’s dating likes cats.🤭 Anything to please his partner or bring a smile to his friend’s face.

Definitely changes the hand emojis to match his skin tone. No doubt about that.💅

His text lines is variety just depending on what he’s talking about or replying, there’s no real limit, except I don’t think he would ever do those longgggggggg paragraph texts. Yeah, that’s not very classy to him.😕 If he needs to type that much, he might as well call them or meet up.

It might be hard to discern if Kaeya is being sarcastic or genuine sometimes because he always seems to be hiding behind his emojis. Sometimes he’ll use emojis deliberately to mask what he’s really feeling... 😟

How long does it take for him to reply: He almost always has his phone on him and on hand, so it’s safe to say he’ll respond relatively quickly if not right away, but once in awhile he might just leave some people on read if it’s the non-essential or some pesky acquaintances. 🤭

The thing about him is, he talks to nearly everyone, but how close he is to each is varied and actually only talks to a few on a daily basis who he can share all his gossip and personal updates like Diluc, Dainsleif, Rosaria, and Lisa. The list goes on for a little longer...

Sample of texting to Lisa:

K: Remember how I told you about Beidou from L College being Ninggaung’s lackey for the week?�� K: Well, I think they’re dating now.🤭 K: I have heard so much from my sources as of late, I can’t wait to share it with you. K:🧐 K: I think this is enough to warrant a phone call or a coffee break. You let me know.

Sample of texting you to go out on a date:

K: Hey there, y/n. K: I wanted to ask you in person, but I didn’t get the chance with you speeding off to your next class. As usual...😩 K: But I was hoping we could meet up for a coffee date at the spot I was talking to you about. 😏 K: Anytime is good with me. I’m pretty flexible. 😉

Confident guy, but secretly hoping you have time and won’t reject him right away. He was typing, “unless you don’t want to...,” but then deleted it because he really wanted you to say yes and doesn’t want to leave an inch for you to turn away from him.

He enjoys phone calls more than Diluc for any situation. Hearing him laugh or chuckle through the phone is a treat. Not to mention whenever he hums a “hmm” lowly. Ohhh, it’s delectable.🤭 If only he knew how it makes Kaeya simps feel to hear all that.😩

Dainsleif: At this point, he really should just trademark the thumbs up emoji.

I’m sure you can pick up from the short blurb that Dain really doesn’t type much at all and will mostly just uses some hand emojis to respond to most texts. Honestly, it should be talent.

Sometimes it can drive some people nuts over what he means when they’re texting him something urgent like “omg, I’m having a panic attack,” and he just goes “👍.“ Like do you mean, “cool story bro” or “good on you for dying right now.”

Maybe he doesn’t care, but people will never know because he doesn’t really make it known. I mean...you have to be either the bravest or angriest person ever to confront him about it. Most times, I think people just leave it at that because it might hurt their pride a little knowing what he really thought. The guy can be pretty blunt and cold.

Honestly, he might not even get to text a thumbs up emoji when you’re having a panic attack because he’s not always on his phone. Especially, when he’s working and he’ll see the text like....god knows when. Although, as someone who I consider as tech-savy, he can always link up his texts to his laptop. So, I guess he straight up either silence the texts or ignore that text....I’m kidding, he would have never ignore something that dire if he has the person on his contacts (and kept that contact...) Thank goodness he’s not in the medical field.

He’s definitely the type you want to talk to in-person if you want his honest answer. Texts are only so good to a certain point.

Texting is for scheduling for meet ups or phone calls. Or simply a way for him to get quick updates from someone.

Needless to say, his texts are super short, if he types anything, and even more to-the-point than Diluc’s.

Yeah, he’s not a great conversationalist over texts at all.

He’s quite infuriating to those who are fast texters or prefer texting over to phone calls.

However, he’s not entirely neglectful. It just depends on who is sending him texts.

He doesn’t use a whole lot of punctuation, but his texts aren’t long so they’re very clear

How long does it take for him to reply: Well.....it depends. If you’re not high on the list of priority, maybe never. He’ll straight up leave you on read like what he does to Kaeya sometimes, but Kaeya finds ways to grab his interests, which leads Dain to reply sooner than usual.

Sample of texts with someone from the same major as him:

Monday 7:06 PM Guy: Did you manage to recover the files for Fred? Dain: 👍 Guy: Awesome👍

Wednesday 8:23 PM Guy: We just arrived at Jerry’s party! where u at? Dain: 🦶 Guy: I’m assuming ure walking over then... Wednesday 9:30 PM Guy: Dude, it’s been like a hr, where u at? Guy: People are starting to wonder if ure coming at all... Guy: Please get here soon! Wednesday 11:43 PM Guy: Dude, did u leave early? I don’t c u anywere. [Left on read.]

Thursday 1:45 PM Guy: Man screw u. I heard u left with cynthia! Bet u guys screwed!! Guy: Fak u, thinking ure the shyt or something! [Contact deleted. Conversation deleted.]

They did indeed have s*x only because she asked nicely and Dain was not in a relationship. Dain’s a gentleman who doesn’t mind casual s*x, but also who is he to deny a nice lady asking politely (or anybody asking politely in general😉). Beats hanging with douchebags. He has no time for drama or toxicity. He cuts them off right away.

Sample of a text to you when you’re dating him:

Dain: Hey Dain: I thought I should text you something like you told me to Dain: I’m having PM classes today from 5 to 10 today Dain: But I’ll be free outside of that Dain: Let me know if you need me for anything Dain: We can meet up for lunch if you want You: Sure! Dain: 👍

Now, I know what this all sounds like, but let it be known, he is not a player. In fact, when he’s dating someone, the other person is more likely dump or cheat on him because he’s actually super faithful to his partner. S*xy times are reserved only for his partner if they so wished it. Unfortunately… sometimes the other person just doesn’t share the same level of commitment as he does...🥺 By the way, that’s considered a lot of texting by his standards and expect it to continue because that’s how committed and serious he is.

Ajax/Tartaglia: He’s normal, I don’t know what to talk about.🙃

There’s not a whole lot of characteristics to be picked out from his texting styles other than the fact that he always seems to reply to you when you least expect him to like....immediately replying to you even though you’re sending him texts at 3 AM. Like...does he even sleep?

That and his arsenal of emoji usage: 🤗🤭😑😧😲🥺😩😈 🥰😘🤯😃😉😎🥳🙃

He is one emoji beast and every one of them can immediately help you evoke the expression he has at every given moment. At least it’s nice to know how he’s feeling.

How long does it take for him to reply: Not long as long as he’s conscious. If he’s sleeping, well sometimes he’ll wake up to the sound of his phone pinging because he doesn’t really set it to silent mode except when he has class or during a movie. He usually has his phone on ring because he’s always there when you need him. He’s there for both his family and friends, and as long as he’s alive, he’ll continue to commit to his loved ones. (This only possible for someone as crazy as he is...or beastly...)

Sample of him replying to your 3 AM texts:

3:21 AM Ajax: Everything alright? It’s not like you to text this late...😐 You: Yeah, but isn’t that same for you? Ajax: Er...I might’ve had coffee too late in the afternoon? Ajax:😩 You: 🤭 A latte again? Ajax: Yup, couldn’t resist.... They were having a chestnut praline latte promotion and they were HALF OFF!!!!😋 Ajax: I may or may not have drank a little more than I should have🙃 You: And you didn’t invite me... You:😞 Ajax: Hey chin up, it’ll be my treat tomorrow 😉 Ajax: WAIT! I mean...my treat in a few hours🤣🤣 You: That’s true!!!🤣🤣 Ajax: So I’ll see you in a few...and then you can tell me what’s going on ok? You: Yeah, that sounds good Ajax:😃👍

Best bro and he’s the same if not more with his siblings. He’s always there to support his people. He’ll schedule a meeting with people as soon as he can if he senses anything is wrong. Heck, he might just show up on your stoop or front door if it’s serious enough. He’s just that kind of guy and you can’t hide from him either 🙃... “You can run, but you won’t get far...” (Cancers are lowkey scary in how much they care sometimes....)

Sample of him texting you when you’re dating because:

Ajax: y/n..... Ajax: I miss you....😩 You: Ajax...it’s only been 2 days? You:🤨 Ajax: Yeah, but we could have shared 6 meals in those 2 days you know? Ajax:😧 You: Ajax, don’t ask for the impossible. Ajax: It’s not impossible if...say we’ve moved in together somewhere?🤗 You: What You: Wait! You: Hold on! You: Woah, let’s slow down a little bit here... Ajax: ok....😞 You: Right You: We can’t rush... Ajax: If you say so...😉

Be careful with this one.... If you have your own place, don’t be surprised if he starts sleeping over at your place more often or him trying to get you sleep over at his....he’s already started to get you comfortable with the idea and he won’t stop there. No...then he’ll start luring you in with his traditional style home cooking. Ho ho. Don’t let him lure you into it. No, you must resist! Resist those Russian pancakes. Hey, you! I meant food not the Russian pancakes on his body. *slaps your hand* No touchy! Once you’re onto him, you’re a goner.

Btw....here are those Russian Pancakes and a recipe. Yumm.

Thank you for reading this far!!

These headcannon posts are pretty experimental for me, but they’ve been fun to type up and think about.

Low key Kaeya’s texting style to ask someone out on a coffee date is pretty similar to what Tartalini would do as they both enjoy using winky emojis and are pretty flirty, but gotta diversify the texts and situations to deliver a breath of scenarios.

I had headcannons for Ayato’s texting style too, but I ran out of steam towards the end. So, I’ll just have to save those for another time. I really wanted to elaborate on why I would think Dainsleif is open to casual s*x, but I feel like that could be a whole post on it’s own, so I tried to refrain from it taking over his section. After all, this is suppose to be on texting styles and their tendencies. 😉

I just hope you enjoyed reading it! If you’re interested in more of my modern AU headcannons, you check it here!

#diluc ragnvindr #diluc imagine #genshin headcanons #kaeya alberich #kaeya imagine #genshin imagine #genshin impact imagine #dainsleif #dainsleif imagine #childe imagine #genshin childe #childe #tartaglia #dainsleif x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader

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