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#wind had a really cool moment that made me want to art
zolanort · 1 month
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Inspired by chapter 6 of A Piece of Heart by @shearlin
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skyward-floored · 2 months
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Febuwhump collab day 18 - too weak to move
Hi yep I’m still working on febuwhump XD I’ve got two more fics after this in fact! Expect the next one up either later today or tomorrow >:)
This was suggested by an anon, thank you! They wanted Warriors or Sky, so I kinda did both. It ended up taking a turn I didn’t expect, but I hope you like it.
Warnings: Heat exhaustion, a brief discussion about infertility
Today’s lovely art
Ao3 link
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“Aunt Sun! Aunt Sun Aunt Sun where’d you go we need you!”
Sun looked up from the lemonade she was mixing, and saw Wind run into the kitchen, almost tripping on his flip-flops but catching himself.
“Aunt Sun!” he gasped, and Sun looked at him in surprise.
“What’s the matter Wind? Did Sky and Warriors finally get tired of hucking snowballs at each other?” she asked, leaning on the counter. “I’m all for a snow day, but it’s just too hot to be out there, even with snow.”
“No, no they didn’t, b-but Warriors was making a really big snowball and then he fell over and now he won’t get up, and Uncle Sky told me to get you,” Wind stuttered, and Sun froze, then immediately dropped what she was doing.
“Lead the way,” she said quickly, and followed Wind outside, the heat hitting her like a physical weight.
The area was suffering through a horrible heat wave, and everyone was desperate to cool down, in any way they could manage. Warriors had brought Wind over to hang out with Aryll for a while, and offered to generate some snow for a snowball fight. It had helped a lot with staying cool, but Sun had gotten to the point where she hadn’t been able to handle the heat any longer, even with snow, and she’d gone in to mix up a more reliable way of cooling down.
She was wondering now if she should’ve stayed out, though.
Wind led her to the backyard, where several rapidly melting piles of slush lay, Sky kneeling among them and apparently uncaring of how wet he was getting. Aryll sat next to him, her eyes wide, and Warriors lay collapsed beside them both, parts of him pale while others were flushed with heat.
A sharp spark of fear hit Sun’s chest.
“What happened?” she asked quickly as she kneeled down beside the two, Sky frantically shading Warriors with one wing while the other fanned air towards him.
“I don’t know, he was just making some more snow, and then all of a sudden he just...” Sky gestured helplessly, and Sun leaned over Warriors, unsure of where to start.
“He sleeping?” Aryll asked in confusion, and Wind picked her up, looking shaken.
“I don’t think so Aryll,” he said quietly.
Warriors’ eyes flickered open then, and they all leaned forward to look at him, his expression confused as he blinked up at them all.
“Wh’ happened?” he mumbled, and twitched a little like he was trying to sit up. He didn’t make it more then maybe an inch though, and Sky and Sun both pushed him back down, Wind and Aryll looking on with wide eyes.
“You just collapsed Wars, take it easy,” Sky said worriedly, still fanning him. “How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?”
It took Warriors a moment to respond, all of them watching him carefully. And when he did finally speak, his voice was unusually quiet and raspy.
“...dunno,” he murmured, blinking dizzily at them all. “Sort of... s-sick, I-I guess...”
Sky leaned over and put a hand on Warriors’ forehead, and the worry on his face sharpened.
“...you feel warm. Warriors, you’re never warm,” he said in a voice that was on the verge of panicking.
“‘parently I am today,” Warriors slurred, looking dizzy as he closed his eyes again.
Sun tugged Sky’s hand out of the way so she could feel Warriors’ forehead as well, and she frowned at the heat that met her fingers. Warriors wasn’t burning up or anything, but for someone who always ran cold, the fact that he was warm to the touch at all was worrying in more ways than one.
Sun made quick eye contact with Sky, and the look on his face confirmed her own thoughts.
He pushed himself too far.
“Wind, would you take Aryll inside and get a wet washcloth? There’s some clean ones next to the sink,” Sun said, and Wind nodded and went back into the house, Aryll still looking back with a curious look. “We should get him inside, it’ll be cooler in there.”
“Yeah, yeah that’s a good idea,” Sky said with worry thick in his voice, and Sun gave his hand a quick squeeze.
Sun then helped him sit Warriors up, his head lolling a bit. They each pulled one of his arms over their shoulders, Sky pulling his wings in, and lifted him up, slowly carrying him inside. Warriors didn’t move much during all this, looking blearily around as they moved him, and the lack of anything else only worried Sun more.
Normally Warriors would’ve cracked a stupid joke by now, or at least reassured them he was okay, especially earlier with Wind and Aryll watching. Instead all he did was remain slumped in their arms, and Sun and Sky wasted no time in bringing him into the house.
They laid Warriors on their couch, Aryll watching curiously from the floor, and Wind returned after a minute with a wet cloth like Sun had asked. She quickly wiped it over Warriors’ face, dripping it in his hair and dampening his skin, then placed it on his forehead.
“Is he okay?” Wind asked once she’d finished, and Sky ruffled his hair.
“We think he just overheated a bit buddy. He should just need to take it easy,” Sky reassured, though Sun could still see the worry plastered all over his face.
“Can I help at all?” Wind asked, anxiously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Sun looked at her nephew, and nodded, seeing the worry bright in his eyes.
“Yes, I think you’re exactly who we need,” she said kindly, and gestured him over. “Would you blow a bit of air on Warriors? It doesn’t have to be a lot, but it’ll help him cool down faster.”
“Yeah, I can do that!” Wind said eagerly, then sat down in the chair beside Warriors, blowing a gentle breeze through the air.
Warriors shifted as the air brushed him, and he let out a quiet sigh, turning his head towards the breeze. Sun and Sky watched him in silence for a moment, and Aryll wobbled over and poked her head up by Warriors’, smiling when the air blew past her own face as well.
“Sleep?” she said, poking him with a chubby hand, and Sky tugged her away.
“...yes, he’s resting right now pumpkin, so let’s leave him alone, okay?” he said, and Aryll blinked, Sky gently pulling her back from her uncle’s side.
He picked Aryll up and set her over by some of her toys, trying to get her distracted, and Sun busied herself with wiping the cloth over Warriors’ face again, feeling his skin. Still too warm.
She held back a sigh, watching Warriors’ hair be tousled by the breeze Wind was making. Warriors and Sky had both been the ones to push themselves the most back during their hero days, often further then they should... but while just playing with his family, Warriors never gone so far as to pass out.
Something must be up.
Sky came back after a little while, Aryll happily stacking some blocks, and he looked down at his brother, still motionless and pale.
“Should we call a doctor?” he asked quietly, and Sun hesitated.
“...I don’t know. It seems like he’s just too hot, and I don’t think they’d be able to do anything for him that we can’t,” Sun said finally, wiping the cloth over Warriors’ forehead again. “Let’s give him a little while.“
“Alright. We should probably call Artemis though,” Sky mused, and Warriors cracked his eyes open.
“Don’ need to,” he murmured. “She doesn’t... need more problems. Leave ‘er be.”
Sun and Sky both raised their eyebrows at that, and Wind paused in his blowing, giving Warriors an odd look.
“Warriors... you’re not a problem. Especially not to Artemis,” Sun said, and Warriors closed his eyes, not replying.
Sky frowned.
“...Have you had any water to drink today Wars?” he asked suddenly, voice suspicious.
“I guess..? ‘lil...” Warriors mumbled after a moment of silence, and Wind looked down at him worriedly. “Don’... really remember...”
“So you spent the hottest day of the year making snowballs in our backyard, and you haven’t had any water all day. Is that what I’m hearing?” Sky asked with a bit of a bite to his voice. “Did you just forget you get dehydrated when you use your powers too much?!”
“I don’t know,” Warriors murmured. “...sorry.”
The fight went out of Sky all at once, and he sighed, wiping some sweat off his brow. He lightly nudged Warriors with a wing, and didn’t say anything for a moment, obviously thinking.
Sun decided to cut in. “Well you should drink something now, you need to get all that water you used up back in you, and it’ll help cool you down,” she pointed out, and Warriors gave a small nod.
“I can get him some!” Wind offered, and hopped off his chair, running into the kitchen before anyone else could offer to go.
Sun and Sky watched him scamper off, then turned back to Warriors, who was trying to sit himself up again. His arms shook, and Sky quickly grabbed him before he could fall, helping him up without a word.
Warriors leaned his head back once he was sitting upright, and closed his eyes, his face worn. Sun studied him for a moment, fixing the cloth when it tried to slide off. Warriors looked tired, but in more ways then one, a weariness apart from dehydration and overheating evident on his face.
Adding that to how he’d overused his powers, forgotten to drink anything during the worst heatwave they’d had in years, and his reaction at the mention of his wife...
“Warriors... is everything alright with you and Arty?” she asked finally, looking at her brother in-law.
Warriors remained silent, his face creasing a bit further, and Sky and Sun gave each other looks.
Hit the nail on the head it seems.
“Alright Wars. Something’s eating at you. You never push yourself like this unless you’re really out of it, or something’s wrong,” Sky said as he sat down beside him, and Warriors softly huffed.
“Do not.”
“Do too. And I can think of at least three times off the top of my head,” Sky said pointedly. “Come on. What’s going on with you and Artemis?”
Warriors stilled, and the quiet buzz of the ceiling fan was the only noise in the room for a few moments. It was occasionally punctuated by Aryll’s giggling and the sound of Wind clattering around in the kitchen looking for a cup, and Sun was about to threaten to call Artemis and ask her for answers when Warriors let out a sigh.
“Things’ve just... been hard,” he said, voice still faint. “We’re okay, we haven’t... fought ‘r anything, but...”
He hesitated, then exhaled again.
“...We’ve been trying so hard,” Warriors murmured, eyes still closed. “For kids. But we...”
Sky put his hand on his shoulder, and Warriors swallowed.
“...I don’t know. Maybe it’s a sign we’re just not meant to be parents,” he whispered.
“Warriors, don’t talk like that,” Sun said softly, her heart falling at the grief in his voice. “You and Arty will be wonderful parents.”
Warriors didn’t reply, and Sun put her hand on his other shoulder, wishing she knew what else to say.
“Overextending yourself isn’t going to fix anything Wars,” Sky said softly, drawing his wings in. “This... this isn’t your fault. You can’t punish yourself for things outside your control.”
Warriors seemed to droop further where he sat, and his eyes remained stubbornly closed.
“I want... to fix it,” he said in a voice so quiet Sun could barely hear it. “But I can’t. It’s a problem I can’t... solve, and Arty’s suffering for it.”
“And it isn’t your fault,” Sun reminded him. “You can’t control this Warriors, and you’re suffering just as much as Arty is. Don’t minimize that.”
Warriors stilled, and Sun fixed the wet cloth on his forehead where it had fallen slightly.
“I’m sorry Link,” Sky said quietly. “I knew you two were struggling with it, but I didn’t realize...”
“It’s all right,” Warriors murmured, and Sky squeezed his shoulder.
“Still. If there’s anything you two need... just ask, okay? We’re here to help Wars, but we can’t if you don’t let us.”
“Or if you make bad decisions such as creating too much snow in the worst heatwave I can remember,” Sun added, and Warriors’ mouth twitched into a faint smile.
“I’m already... regretting that, trust me.”
Sun smiled back, and Warriors finally opened his eyes, looking between the two of them. He still looked unusually subdued, but he seemed a little better then before, and Sun counted it as a win.
“We should let Artemis know you collapsed though,” Sun said, brushing some hair out of her face with a sigh. “And somebody is going to have to drive you home... then maybe we can discuss this a little more. But right now you need to rest, and focus on cooling down.”
Warriors sighed. “Yeah. I know.”
Sun gave his shoulder a squeeze, then withdrew it, resolving to bring things up with Artemis next time they had some time to talk. If Warriors was feeling this badly, she could only imagine how Artemis was doing.
“I got your water!”
All three adults looked up as Wind finally walked back into the room, carefully holding a mug in his hands and looking a little frazzled.
“I couldn’t reach your water cups and I didn’t want to break them by blowing them so I just got a mug cause it’s basically a cup, and I know this one is kind of weird but I it was the first one I found,” Wind rambled, and looked at Warriors anxiously. “Are... are you feeling better, Warriors?”
Warriors took the garishly colored mug with a trembling hand, then took a long sip of water. Some color seemed to come back to his face as he drank, and when he lowered the mug, he gave Wind a small smile.
“Yeah bud, I am,” he said quietly as he looked at his hands. “Sorry for scaring you.”
“I wasn’t scared,” Wind said quickly, then climbed up on Sky so he could be next to Warriors. “Just... don’t do that again.”
Warriors let out a soft chuckle. “No promises. But I’ll do my best.”
Wind flicked a puff of air at Warriors’ face with a grumpy huff, but after a moment he went back to blowing a soft breeze at him like he had earlier, looking relieved.
Warriors relaxed as it hit him, and closed his eyes, looking much better then he had before.
Sky gave Warriors’ shoulder one more gentle nudge, but didn’t say anything further, and Sun got up to go phone Artemis. Wind started in on some kind of story about what one of his brothers had done recently, Aryll toddling back over to sit beside them and listen, and Sun looked back and watched them for a moment, a somewhat sad smile on her face.
Then she headed for the phone, Aryll’s giggles following her.
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minas-linkverse · 4 months
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Ngl I was going to ask about Breath of the Wild but I’d thought you’d get a million of those asks lol. I was also torn between asking about Wind Waker, so whichever one you want to answer more is chill!!
haha yea I thought I'd get a million asks too! Somehow even now this remains the only botw ask, I guess people just figured it must've been sent already 😅
Now to actually share my thoughts on botw... Man I hope people don't get mad at me.
I did not like it!. The first play through I had was mildly exciting simply due to there being a whole unknown world to see, but after a while that gimmick wore off. I knew that if I made my way to the cool looking mountain or interesting abandoned building I'd just find a bokoblin and/or a chest with a gem. Whats the point of a gorgeous expansive world when all I find is the same...! 😫
Oh wow! A town with a whole new atmosphere and culture I sure wonder what I'll get up to h- Ok they have the same shops with slightly different items. Ok cool. There's like a few small quests for more inventory filler I don't really need. Cool cool.
I understand that the game is really fun for some people, they'll do quests just to get to play more of the game. They want all that extra stuff to upgrade armour and really get into the nitty gritty mechanics of the game... But I did not. It was not for me.
Also ouugh the puzzles...! My favourite part of Zelda games is the puzzle solving, but these were in no way satisfying and often more fun to just break. Why would I bother even trying to get into the devs heads when A) I could just break it and B) I have too many options to consider! I can't possibly get a clean eureka moment when everything from monster guts to just climbing could be the solution...! Where's the engaging simplicity of knowing exactly what you have and following the devs' clues to reach the solution!! Waaaaaaaaaaaaa--
I also disliked the story, all the interesting bits in it happened a 100 years ago and I feel like I arrived late with a starbucks. I also will not get over the weird ending cutscene!! After countless fascinating memories of Zelda having very complex emotions at Link... What do you mean you're just going to have a vaguely romantic "Do you still remember me?" YEAH I DO, I thought u disliked me! Which is a fascinating story direction I would've loved continued but OK! I guess we're ignoring that! Women cant be angry that makes them less cute and marketable, I guess!!!!
I... Sorry this is so ranty, I've been holding it in a long time. I think there's a lot to love in botw and I wish I wasn't so sour about it. Other people's love and excitement for it is wonderful and I hope they keep making the art they love. If its your first game in the series and got you into it, that's nothing to be ashamed about. I'm just a grumpy old man waving at cloud /ref.
Honestly I think botw could've been wonderful if it was a new IP. It feels all the Zelda stuff was sort of glued onto a concept that wasn't prepared to carry that mantle. It would've been better off with a new exciting world and cast of characters. It still wouldn't be a game I much care for, but the freedom that could've granted the developers would've been a treat to see.
It's worth adding that even though I dislike botw, I want to treat the characters of that game with respect and care in my comic. I may not love them in game but I can see the passion others have and I am committed to make something worth their time. Your special guys are safe with me. I have 0 desire to dunk on them, and instead wish to honour the love you all have. In a way I'm learning to love them myself through that.
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rubyreduji · 1 year
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charcoal stained hands — wjh
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summary: jun falls in love on a tuesday afternoon in an art studio
tags: fluff, college!au, artist!reader, gn!reader wc: 3.1k an: perpetuating the sexy artist trope im sorry. also i apparently don’t know how to characterize jun so if it’s off don’t tell me
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Jun’s never been inside the art building before. He’s not really the artsy type so he’s never had a reason to, but now he’s gotten himself a bit lost as he wanders around the building looking for his best friend.
The art building is huge with multiple floors and lots of long winding hallways that lead to nowhere. Not to mention the countless number of studios that Minghao could be hiding out in. This could take him all day just to find one person. 
Jun turns the corner and walks right into a drawing studio. The room has a high ceiling and there’s easels and stools all over the room. There’s only one person occupying the room.
You sit on a stool, frowning at a half filled piece of paper. There’s black charcoal all over your hands and up your arms and smeared across your jeans. The drawing itself looks to be a portrait of someone, but it hasn’t taken enough from yet for Jun to guess who it is. 
You turn when you hear someone approaching and Jun has to take a moment to take all of you in. Jun’s never been someone who believes in love at first sight, but he just might now. You’re probably the most beautiful person Jun has ever seen in his life, and he’s friends with Jeonghan.
Everything about you is perfect from your facial features to the style of your hair to the clothes you’re wearing. It wouldn’t surprise Jun if a glowing halo just appeared atop your head.
“Oh, hi.” Even your voice is pretty. “Are you looking for something?”
It takes Jun a few more seconds to realize you’re talking to him. “Uh, more like someone. Would you possibly happen to know where Xu Minghao is?”
“Minghao…Minghao…”
“You might know him as Myungho?”
“Oh Myungho! Yes, I actually do know where he is. Here let me show you, it’s easy to get lost in this building.” Jun doesn’t have the heart to tell you he’s already lost just standing in this room.
You jump up from where you are sitting and quickly wipe your hands off on a towel sitting on your easel. Your hands are still covered in the black pigment but it doesn’t seem to phase you as you make your way out of the room, Jun following behind you.
“I haven’t seen you around the art building before. Are you new?”
“No, I’m a second year, I’ve just never made my way into the art building before. I’m usually over in the dance studios,” Jun explains.
“Oh, the dance studios? Do you and Myungho dance together?”
“Yeah we do, but we go way back. He’s my best friend.”
“Oh, you’re Jun!” You turn around to look at Jun directly, your face lighting up. Jun flushes from how pretty your smile is. “Myungho talks about you all the time. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
You two walk for a bit more in silence before Jun starts another conversation. “So, are you an art major?”
“Yep! I love art, all kinds of it. Thankfully I’m pretty good at it as well,” you giggle. “Are you a dance major or is it just a hobby?”
“I’m a dance major. Being a dancer is the only thing I’ve wanted ever since I was little.”
“Wow, that’s so cool. I’ll have to come see you and Myungho dance sometime. I love dance, but that’s one art form I personally do not excel at. Oh, speaking of Myungho, here we are! He should be right in there.” You lift your hand to point into the studio but you accidentally brush Jun’s hand while you do, rubbing charcoal dust onto Jun’s skin. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”
“Don’t worry about it, it’ll wash off,” Jun reassures you, more focused on the tingling sensation your touch left rather than the black marks it left. “Thank you for guiding me here though.”
“Of course! See you around Jun!” With that you head back off to where you came from and Jun heads into the studio you lead him too, his mind still flooded with thoughts of you.
Just like you said, Minghao is standing at a canvas, glaring at it. It’s blank except for two small blue marks that look like Minghao tried to wipe them off with his hand.
“Minghao,” Jun approaches the younger boy.”
“Jun,” Minghao says when he turns to face his friend. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been texting you all afternoon and you never responded so I decided to come find you.”
“What did you need?”
“That’s not important anymore, I need you to tell me who this person was.”
Jun describes you to Minghao who takes a moment to contemplate who Jun may be talking about. “Ah, you’re thinking of Y/N. Why? Did you meet them?”
Once Minghao says the name it clicks in Jun’s mind who you are. Like Minghao has talked about Jun to you, he’s talked about you to Jun. Minghao has mentioned a couple times of how you’re some art prodigy who practically lives in the art building. Minghao has been lucky to get close to you as it seems that as friendly as you are, you don’t have very many friends.
Minghao assumes it’s because almost everyone in the art department is obsessed with you, desperate to gain your attention. Jun can see why now. He figured it was just to trade art tips or to get close to someone who is the professors’ favorite, which might actually be a part of it, but it’s not unlikely there are ulterior motives as well. 
“Yeah they showed me to this room. You never told me they’re gorgeous.”
Minghao rolls his eyes. “I didn’t know that was something I had to state. C’mon, don’t be like all the other jerks who inhabit this place.”
“I’m not trying to be! I’m just saying that they’re very attractive. And nice.”
“I know that. If you remember, they’re my friend, not yours. Now what did you actually need me for?”
“Hoshi is calling an emergency dance crew meeting.”
Minghao just sighs and moves to put away his art supplies.
Your existence in Jun’s mind has waived for the time being until he walks into dance practice one day and there you’re standing, talking to Hoshi and Minghao. Jun hesitantly approached the group, a bit nervous to be in your presence again. You don’t seem nervous to be around Jun though as you shoot him a giant smile.
“Jun! Hi. Soonyoung is allowing me to sit in on practice so I can work on drawing figures in action.” You point over to a folding chair in the corner where a sketchbook and a pencil bag sit. “Don’t worry, I won’t be in the way. It’ll be like I’m not even here.”
You move over to where you’re stationed and Hoshi starts to lead stretches. Jun can’t help but keep taking glances over at you. Despite being the one performing, you’re wildly more interesting in this moment.
Jun studies the way your eyes flit over his and the other’s forms, dissecting every move made. Concentration has settled into your face and Jun doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone be beautiful while being serious. There are moments where you chew at your lip, like you’re contemplating your next move, before you make a mark on your page. Your eyes stay on the bodies in front of you, more than the page you’re drawing on. It’s like your eyes are laser focused on the dancers, not wanting to miss a single move.
At some point Jun comes to the realization that you’re also performing your own kind of dance, choreographed between you and your paper. Your arm and wrist move fluidly, creating swift and smooth marks on the paper. Just as much detail goes into your drawing as it goes into Jun’s movements. It makes him think about how you called dancing a form of art. You are aware of all the time and effort that goes into a performance because you put the same amount of time and effort into your pieces.
Practice is over before Jun knows it and he realizes that he spent the whole time staring at you rather than actually doing what he was supposed to. He can’t do anything about it now other than hope for forgiveness from Hoshi.
After Jun is done packing up his things he walks over to you where you’re still adding finishing touches to your work. You look up when Jun stops next to you. He looks down at your page and is amazed to see all of the figures filled on your page. Your drawings are as fluid as the dance moves they were performing and Jun doesn’t think he’s ever seen a sketch that so perfectly communicates what was happening in real life. 
“Wow Y/N, your work is incredible,” Jun tells you.
“Oh, thank you. They’re not my best though. I was so entranced by you guys dancing. You guys are amazing, I could barely look away,” you gush. “I love the way you move in particular. Your limbs are just so long they move so smoothly. I’d honestly love to do a study on you and draw you more. Sorry if that’s weird. Sometimes art takes over my brain before I can think before I speak.”
“No, that’s not weird at all. I’d be honored to be drawn by you. I’m not kidding when I said our work is incredible.”
“Would you actually let me draw you?” Your face lights up at the proposition.
“Yeah, of course.”
“Oh my god, that would be amazing! Here let me give you my number and we can coordinate times to meet up and discuss more.” You quickly scribble your phone number down on the corner of your sketchbook and rip it off to hand to Jun. Just like before your hands are covered in your art medium (graphite this time) with some of it even rubbing off on the paper you’re holding out to Jun.
Jun takes it and tries not to be too excited to receive the piece of paper. You quickly bid your goodbyes and Jun thinks about how quickly he can text you without it being weird.
You two decided to meet up later in the week back in the painting studio. You’re already there when Jun walks in. Your supplies are all laid out and it seems you’ve already applied an underpainting on your canvas.
You light up when you see your model walk into the room. “Jun! Yay, I’m glad you didn’t get lost getting here. I was thinking that you could just pose here for me. I just love your body, your limbs are beautiful. Just spread out, something dynamic, yeah?”
You’re nearly rambling as you talk but Jun just goes along with it. He moves to the center of the room where there’s a small platform. He steps onto it and looks back at you to make sure he’s doing it right. You help guide him into a pose that’s both visually pleasing and comfortable for Jun to hold.
“Not to be weird or anything, but you are really pretty. Just aesthetically attractive,” you say to him as you start to sketch out his figure.
“O-oh, thanks.” Jun’s face starts to heat up. He hopes you don’t notice. “I uhm, think you’re pretty too. You and your art.”
You laugh a bit. “The art probably more so, but thank you.”
You and Jun continue to make conversation while you lay your pigments down on the canvas in bold, confident strokes with your brush. Outside of being drop dead gorgeous, you’re also just a genuinely nice person to be around. The conversation flows well between you and Jun and it seems you guys even have the same sense of humor.
“Here, you probably need a break. Let’s order lunch, yeah? On me.” You set your paint brush down. You pick up your phone to look up nearby restaurants. “Hmm. Or, I know this place close by. We could go and get lunch and get out of the studio all together.”
“Yeah, that would be nice,” Jun says as he internally freaks out a bit. It’s obviously not a date, you’re just being nice, but still it makes him giddy and slightly flustered.
You gather your things and start out the door, Jun following behind you. As you walk Jun glances over at you and smiles a bit. There’s something endearing about how whenever you’re creating art you make a mess. It’s all a part of the process and Jun thinks that it would honestly be weird to see your hands not covered in some kind of medium. There are paint splotches all over your hands and arms and Jun can’t tell if you don’t notice them or just don’t care. Maybe it’s both.
The walk to the spot you were talking about isn’t long and you buy both you and Jun a sandwich.
“Thanks for doing this for me. I know you probably didn’t plan on spending the whole day with me.”
“It’s okay,” Jun reassures you, and he means it, “I like spending time with you.”
You smile at Jun. “I like spending time with you too.”
Ever since the first time you worked on your painting of Jun you guys have been spending more time together, whether it’s to work on art, or just enjoy each other’s presence. Your painting of Jun still isn’t finished but you don’t seem to be in any rush and Jun enjoys being your ‘muse’ as you call him.
You and Jun are hanging out together in the painting studio when Minghao walks in. He rolls his eyes at the sight of you two.
“You know Y/N was my friend first,” Minghao complains as he approaches you guys. 
“It’s not my fault they enjoy my company more,” Jun shrugs.
“Hey, I enjoy you both!” You interject. 
“But I’m your favorite, right?” Jun looks over at you.
“You would just love that, wouldn’t you Jun?” Minghao teases. Jun’s crush on you hasn’t gone away and Minghao knows that. He never misses a chance to make a dig at Jun for it.
“It’s not my fault you won’t model for me,” you say to Minghao, ignoring the comments both boys just made. “Jun here at least appreciates my art.”
“I appreciate your art and you know I do.” Minghao rolls his eyes.
“Sure, sure,” you sigh dramatically. “At least I still have Junhui.” You drape yourself over Jun with false despair. Minghao doesn’t seem to appreciate your dramatics but Jun lets out a chuckle. “See, he also appreciates my humor.” 
Minghao ignores you. “I’m just here to grab the coat I left earlier. Make sure to go wash your hands when you’re done Y/N, there’s still ink all over the keys to the printmaking studio.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, not caring to listen to Minghao’s advice. Minghao just sighs and makes his exit. “He just can’t appreciate good art making techniques.”
“I like how you get messy when you make your art. It’s cute.”
“Aww thanks Jun. I just don’t have time to be neat about it and it makes it more fun! It's like I’m a part of the art piece as well. If you can’t get a little messy while making art then what’s the point?”
“You really are something amazing L/N Y/N,” Jun says.
“I think you’re talking about yourself there, Moon Junhui. Have you seen yourself dance? It’s beautiful.” Your voice softens a bit as you look at Jun in the eyes. “You’re beautiful.”
“Y/N?”
“Will you go out with me?” The words leave your mouth in a whisper. You’re still staring into Jun’s eyes, your face painted with worry.
“I- uh, yes!” God Jun wishes he was cool. “Wait- wait, you like me? You like me back? You just asked me out?”
“Has it not been obvious?” You laugh a little bit. “Of course I like you, why do you think I spend so much time with you? I compliment you all the time.”
“I thought you were just being nice!”
“I don’t like people! Hasn’t Myungho told you that?” Now that Jun thinks about it, Minghao has told him that. Huh. Maybe Jun is just oblivious.
“I’ve liked you since I first saw you,” Jun admits, “sitting in that drawing studio with charcoal all over your hands. Ever since then I’ve been telling myself that you’d never like me back and here we are.”
“The moment I saw you dance I was gone for. Why do you think I’ve made you my muse?” Jun cannot believe this. “I don’t just call you attractive for no reason. You are very pretty Jun.”
“Minghao is never going to believe this,” Jun whispers and you laugh.
“Y/N-ah!” Jun comes barreling into the drawing studio. You’re sitting at a stool in front of a canvas, just like so many months ago when Jun first met you. You’re working on a charcoal drawing once again, this time it’s a self portrait.
There’s a mirror set up next to you and a scowl plastered on your actual face. You turn when you hear your boyfriend approaching and suddenly a smile spreads across your mouth. “Junnie!” You stand up and run over to your boyfriend.
You grab his face and press a kiss to his lips.
“Baby,” Jun laughs. “Your hands.”
You pull away and look at your hands as if you’re just now noticing the charcoal dust all over your fingertips. Jun’s not actually upset though as this is nearly a daily occurrence. You decide to make the best of it and take your thumb and swipe it against Jun’s cheek twice.
Jun moves over to the mirror to look at himself and see the small charcoal heart you’ve smeared onto his cheek. Jun turns back to you and kisses you again.
“So I called you here for a reason,” you say as you move around the room, grabbing a canvas sitting in the corner. “Look what I’ve finished.”
You turn the canvas around to reveal the painting of Jun you started the first time you two spent time together. The painting perfectly captures Jun’s atmosphere when he’s dancing. The painting is fluid and colorful and Jun can barely believe it’s him in the piece.
“Oh wow Y/N this is…stunning,” Jun says. 
“I’m pretty proud of it and I’m even more proud of what came out of it,” you say with a cheesy grin on your face.
“Oh you wanna kiss me so badly right now,” Jun teases. You don’t respond, just lean forward and press your lips to Jun’s cheek on the heart you made.
“Let’s go get lunch, yeah? We can talk about my next portrait of you.” You motion to grab Jun’s hand and Jun happily accepts, along with all of the charcoal stains that come with it.
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boliv-jenta · 1 year
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Lucien Flores (I think that's his name) x f!reader.
Part of the Exposed Masterlist
Warnings: female masturbation. Talk of smut. Dissing of the remake of Dune.
WC:3K
Summary: Lucien advertises for help with his latest art project, and you eagerly respond.
A Work of Art
After a few hours of restlessness, sleep had claimed you in the early hours. The last minute nerves from last night worked their way back in as the day filtered back into your consciousness. The ad you had replied to along with the details of your meeting sat on your nightstand. The edges of the paper curled where your fingers had troubled it the night before.
The bold print of the ad caught your eye.
Wanted: Women 35+ for exciting adult art project. Must be open and adventurous.
It wasn't much but it caught you gin hazed eyes. The past six months had been rough. You'd gone from the promotion fast track in a high profile firm with a fiance and a soon to be step daughter to single and unemployed. Still it was better than the alternative, trapped in a marriage to a man who wasn't who you thought. 
The ad fanned an ember that burned low inside you. The ember that you'd refused to feed in favour of being practical. All these years you'd refused every temptation. Giving up nights out to buckle down and study. Foregone holidays to gain your employers favour. Other passions shelved for you to pour your attention into your study.
Today, you were finally throwing caution to the wind. When you had called the number in the ad a smooth deep voice had answered. His words were almost lost on you as you enjoyed the timbre of his tone.
The he said something that got your full attention. "The art will be sexual in nature."
Apart from your first foray into being footloose and fancy free, a disappointing one night stand a few months ago, the sexual side of your life had been pretty lacking lately. He went on to explain that there would be nothing explicit and you could back out at any time before inviting you down to his studio.
The afternoon dragged before you had to leave for your meeting with Lucien. In an attempt to calm yourself you gave yourself a little pamper session. It had taken you a while to accept the parts of your body that you were less than happy with. With the idea that you might be sharing them with a stranger made you want to make the most of them. Every inch of you was exfoliated and moisturised with your favourite relaxing scent. By the time you were done your nerves had settled. The drive to the studio was short. The neighbourhood had a bohemian vibe. The studio was above a retro themed ice cream parlour that served more modern, experimental flavours. The scent of elderberry caught your nose as you passed.
The short climb up the stairs threatened to take your breath away as your nerves and excitement built. Taking a moment before knocking you were able to regulate your breathing. The moment the door opened all that went out of the window. Your breath was well and truly taken away by the man in front of you. 
"You must be my 5 O'clock?" His eyes, deep brown and filled with so much life, appraised you. "Come on in."
The room he invited you into was set up like any photography studio. Except this one had a massage table in the middle. There were cameras set up at multiple angles all aimed at the head of the table. To the side was a black fabric curtain hung on a frame.
Lucien must have seen your face flicker with wonder. "Hey. It's cool. I know this might seem a little daunting. As I said on the phone, you are under no obligation to stay. You can leave now or let me explain, then leave. I really hope it's the second one because I'd love to work with you but there's no pressure." 
Truly you didn't feel any pressure at all. There was something about his presence that made you feel relaxed around him. "Can I get you a drink?" When you declined, deciding to err on the side of caution and not accept a drink from a stranger, he excused himself to grab a water. 
In his absence you made yourself a promise to think critically about what he was asking. The critical thinking was necessary as he was hands down the most attractive man you had ever met. Eyes you could get lost in, a beautiful, easy smile. The jeans that he wore clung around his thighs and ass, showing how definite they were. His shirt was open down to a couple of buttons at the bottom. It revealed a scandalous amount of his broad chest and long neck. Both were dotted with freckles that you couldn't help imagine connecting with kisses. The line you'd drawn for yourself, about what you would or wouldn't do, was now a dot in the distance. One look at him had made you hurl yourself over it. 
"Please, sit." He let you sit in his desk chair before perching across from you on a coffee table littered with papers and equipment. "So as I said the art is explicit in nature. We'll go through that in a minute. I just wanted to explain why I chose you. From the questions I asked you on the phone you seem confident, secure in who you are, fun loving. These are all qualities that I'd like in this piece."
His praise heated you up. "Thank you."
He smiled brightly. "I'm not trying to flatter, I'm being honest. You're beautiful too so that will add another layer to the project."
For someone who wasn't trying to flatter, he was doing an amazing job. 
"So down to the heart of what I want. I want to explore how women's pleasure evolves with age. I want to capture something real and beyond the normal social standard of sexual pleasure. The media seems to think a woman's sex life ends at thirty."
"When you say 'capture', you mean you want to take a photo. Of…?" The line suddenly came into focus again. As gorgeous as the man was, anything pornographic was off the table.
"Your face. Specifically mid orgasm."
"Oh…"
"I wouldn't be evolved in the orgams part. The curtain would be set up across you so I can only see your face."
"So you want me to masturbate and you'll take a picture of my face when I…" you trailed off.
"Yeah, that's pretty much it. The photos will then be used in several collages. I'd make it difficult for you to be recognised. I would also like a brief interview about how your experience of an orgasm has changed with age. I'll use snippets in my work."
"That sounds interesting." You felt like you needed to buy time to process.
"Do you like ice cream?" The shift in conversation was so sudden all you could do was blink at him. "I want this project to be as authentic as possible. I need you to be relaxed around me. I was thinking while you take some time to process you could get to know me a little. Or a lot if you like. If I'm going to know you in an intimate way, it should go both ways. You can ask me anything and I'll answer honestly. I thought you might feel more comfortable doing that in a public space. The place downstairs does an amazing mint choc chip with popping candy in the chips. It's refreshing."
"Well, there goes my first important question of what your favourite ice cream is."
Fuck, he was handsome when he smiled. And that smile was all for you. A public place was definitely a good idea before you did something you would regret.
"So on to my next most important question."
"Go ahead." His face turned serious, his gaze narrowed on you, emphasising the angles of his face. It spurred on your attraction even more.
"What is your favourite dinosaur?" The laughter that peeled from him gripped your heart.
"That is important." He pursed his full lips in thought. "T-rex. Big and scary but filled with comedic value. You?"
"You want to know what my face looks like when I come AND my favourite dinosaur. You, Sir, are too bold."
Another peel of laughter filled the air as he guided you towards the door. 
The time at the ice cream parlour was like the best date you'd ever been on. Several times you had to remind yourself that it wasn't actually a date. Lucien was very open, he answered your questions about his love of art, foster by his grandfather. His upbringing, fairly normal, he grew up in California spent time in New York studying. His family. Only child, two successful, busy doctor parents so he spent a lot of time with his art teacher grandfather. 
Finally, about his passion for finding the truth in his work. "I've lost a couple of friends because they weren't able to be their true selves. Society wouldn't let them. From then on I decided to help uncover all the truths that society wants to keep tucked away, to keep people down." His brown eyes shone with tears and conviction. 
"I'm sorry, about your friends." You hand rested over his on the table. For a brief moment he turned his hand to cup your before giving it a squeeze. 
"Thank you." The tension between you was cut short by the bell above the parlour door ringing.
The tension lingered in your body. You used it later than night to see what the photos would capture. The video on your phone showed, to you, a pretty standard orgasm face. Feeling bold in your post orgasm high, you text Lucien to see if he wanted to see some screen shots for reference. 
If you're okay for Tuesday, I'd rather see it for myself. I'm glad that you feel comfortable showing me, though.
The high and the shield of your phone screen made you even more bold.
There's something about you that makes me feel comfortable. I enjoyed your company today.
The dots on your phone seemed to flash forever before���
Me too. Hopefully that will aid the process and we can get some amazing shots together. See you Tuesday. L x
The little kiss made your heart skip a beat.
When Tuesday came around you turned up with your best lingerie under your casual outfit. Not that you expected him to see it. He assured you that the curtain would hide everything and it wasn't as if you had thought of him seeing it in any other way. Like when he bend you over his desk to fuck you. Nope. That was definitely not on the mental list of things you had made to help you get there. Lucien had said you could have whatever you wanted, except visual porn, he didn't want your eyes focused on something. Old school always worked best for you so you declined to bring toys. Lucien offered to stream audio porn but truth be told you were hoping to hear his voice. The deep velvet rumble of it stoked something inside you.
"So I'll give you some space. There's sheets there. I don't know if you want to undress then cover yourself or keep your clothes on. Just lay down, slip your head through the curtain, they can be velcroed in place by your head, and call me. I'll stay behind the camera during the session. I will approach you to add a piece of fabric to keep the curtains closed, if that's okay?"
"Yes. That's fine."
With a reassuring smile he left you to it. Five minutes later you called him back in, opting to wear your clothes. Your outfit of leggings and an oversized button up shirt gave you plenty of access. 
Lucien came over to fix the curtains. "Comfortable?"
"As I'll ever be. So you just want me to touch myself? Any particular way…?"
"I want you to imagine you're at home and this is just for you. You're doing it for whatever you normally would. Horny, rough day, to sleep, unresolved sexual tension…" he laughed lightly at that one.
It made you think your attraction wasn't one sided. 
"Are they the reasons you usually do it?"
"Those and boredom. I'll tell you, that didn't go down well during the Dune remake." When your brows furrowed he quickly added. "That was a joke. I just meant that move was boring."
The laughter it brought you relaxed you. "Right?! I swear I almost fell asleep."
The tension in the room came right down. Enough that you felt ready to go. "I'm going to start…"
"You can stop at any time. Anything you need just ask."
"Thank you."
With his voice in your head and the scent of him still lingerie from when he was near, it was so hard not to look at Lucien as you began to touch yourself. Not wanted yo make him uncomfortable, you closed your eyes. In your mind it was him touching your breast. His fingers sweeping your clit and probing inside you for that spot. The thought of him watching helped get you to the edge in record time. Unfortunately, that's where you stayed.
"I'm close, I just can't…stage fright I guess." You couldn't even bring yourself to open your eyes to look at him.
"It's completely normal. I did some reading beforehand. Just relax. There's absolutely no pressure. If you can't this time, we'll try another day." There was a pause as he took a deep breath. "Or I could help you? In a way."
"Help?"
"Not touching you. I just…I noticed how you reacted when I told you why I chose you. Maybe I could talk to you?" The offer was casual, almost business like, just an exchange of services. 
Because that's what this was. He was compensating you for your time as a model. This wasn't a thing between you. Nope. The thought of him talking to you didn't make you wetter. It didn't take everything you had to casually answer. "We could try that. It might help."
"I wanted to work with you because you seem to have a strong sense of self. I knew you'd know exactly what you wanted in bed. Then there was that spark of life that was undeniable in you. The curiosity. The humour. Then I met you. Fuck, you're gorgeous. I knew you'd look good on camera. Like you do now. So beautiful. Those pretty lips parted. You're even closer now aren't you? I want to take your picture. I want to capture your unfiltered beauty. Can you come for me? Can you let go? I want you to come for me."
"Oh. Oh, yes. Yes." You had no idea what your face looked like as the pleasure worked its way up from your toes before crashing into your fluttering cunt and splashing outward.
"Oh. That's it. So fucking beautiful. So real." The way Lucien spoke, excited and breathless, it sounded like he was the one that had just come. He collected himself.
"I'll give you a minute to get dressed then show you the pictures." A door opened and closed. You attempted to peel your boneless form from the table. It took a few goes but you eventually got up. Lucien had shown you where the bathroom was to get yourself cleaned up. Even you had to admit that the face staring back at you from the mirror was prettier than the one that came in.
"Lucien?" You called once you were ready. He appeared from the other room. His shirt was now untucked. He looked a little flushed. A part of you hoped that he'd needed a moment to give himself some relief.
"Right. Let's see." He gestured to his laptop. The two of you stood side by side, arms touching to peer at the small screen.
"These all looked good, clear shots." His language was professional but the way he swallowed thickly wasn't."
"So I did well?" You looked into his eyes to see if his answer would be the truth. 
"So well." He breathed as the space between you got smaller. 
The next couple of minutes was a blur of lips and limbs tangling until your back hit a wall and the evidence that he had not given himself some relief pressed at your core. 
Your hands slid around his waist and under his shirt. His hand came back to stop them.
"Wait. We can't…remember? I asked that you don't indulge in sexual activity until the project is over." At the time that rule seemed easy to follow.
"Oh, right."
"It seemed like a good rule at the time." He huffed a laugh. "And one I would like to still follow. I want you to focus on your self pleasure."
"Self pleasure? So I can't take pleasure from anyone else? Can I give it?" You rolled your hips against him.
"Fuck." He pinned them in place against the wall. "See, this is that spark I was talking about, you naughty fucking girl." His teeth bluntly grazed your neck. "Oh, Lucien."
"I can't let you touch me. I don't think I could draw the line. All I'm thinking about is turning you around and fucking you against this wall. I can smell your sex. I want to bury my face in it before I bury my cock."
"You should save that talk for next time."
"So you're coming back?"
"Yes and I expect more of your help next time."
"Yeah? I can do that. I'll tell you everything I've been thinking of the past few days."
"I look forward to it." You restrained yourself to a simple kiss to his full lips before leaving.
That night, a message came through from him. 
A little tit for tat. 
The messages that followed showed his beautiful face screwed up in ecstasy. The lines around his eyes from a life well lived even more noticeable. His full pout parted in a perfect O. You had no trouble with your next orgasm.
Tags @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle @shadowtrick
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ladybeug · 9 months
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was scrolling thru your art tag enjoying your comics when i suddenly discovered you were the one that wrote strangers in the bright lights. having gotten into miraculous only very recently, was tickled to experience a very small identity shenanigan of my own
incredible fic btw; i love it soooooo much. brilliant, hilarious, sweet, poignant. out of curiosity have you read much postww1 modernist stuff? i adored the usage of free indirect discourse for the narration, drunken and in motion and alive, almost reminded me of virginia woolf in a weird way lol. sorry if this is weird
Hello!! I'm about to get long-winded and self indulgent in this reply, fair warning :)
here goes:
Wow!! I don’t know how you found strangers in the bright lights if you got into ladybug in any time frame that can be described as “very recently”, I wrote that in 2018 when I was digesting some personal stuff and in a fantastic ladybug renaissance (of which I have now had several, I think I’ll die in this fandom).
But I’m so glad you somehow did. I only write every couple of years when I get really specific ideas, and the time I spend on it turns into memories of who I was when I wrote it. I feel like that must happen to actual writers too, ones who write often, but I haven’t written “often” since like 2009 and have never asked, so there you go.
But I guess that’s all to say that I am very attached to that story and it’s also one of the only things I’ve written that still feels like it hit the chord I was aiming for. It is so cool that anyone still reads it!!
To actually answer your question: I have never read virginia woolf, and the only modernist stuff I've read was years ago for school classes. I have to admit none of the style was inspired by classics, but instead inspired by the weird disassociation of trying to be alone in a crowd.
I have a final self-indulgent thought, it is a fun fact I realized as I was going down memory lane about this:
I associate ‘strangers in the bright lights’ with a friendship I made that stands out as one of the luckiest and rarest friendships I’ve made – I went to a mountain goats concert alone, and stood up at the front early, and met someone else who had gone to the same mountain goats concert alone and had stood up at the front early. It was one of the fastest and most comfortable connections I’ve made, and we liked each other so much we stayed in touch, even after they moved away. We are still in touch every so often, and as far as I’m concerned in a few years they’re going to publish the best fantasy novel you’ve ever read, so watch out for that.
The fanfiction is in part inspired by that beautiful feeling of meeting someone new that you want to talk to, and they want to talk to you, and a drink or two has propped up your self esteem and you don’t have to worry about who you are tomorrow, just who you are right now. It’s escapism. You feel important, and carried by that feeling, for as long as you are there. Lonely who? Not me. Trapped by past versions of myself, who? Not me.
Anyways the fun fact is - I found out this morning that concert was a year AFTER I posted this fanfiction. I didn't know about that moment of my life as I was writing this. The two are so connected in my mind that this is genuinely surprising, but the concert was in September 2019 and I published the fanfic a year beforehand.
In the words of mr. mountain goat himself: we held on to hope of better days coming, and when we did we were right!
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moraygrotto · 11 months
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new kink fic!
This is a commission for the lovely @askbloatedbellyblog; thank you so much for being a patron of the arts!
Featured is Xiè Lián doing some very important martial god training :)
Contains referenced vôre, stuffing, burping, belly expansion, feeding, and praise. Also HuāLián being mushy, haha
~🍁~
It was on a cool autumn day Xie Lian first heard the prayer that would change his life. Red maple leaves brushed against his shrine, a harbinger of colder days to come, so through his bafflement, he figured the little worshipper kneeling before him might simply be asking for warmth. Perhaps they wanted shelter; perhaps that was what they meant by their whispered prayer of “please take me into you, Your Highness…”
To Xie Lian’s shock, however, they continued. “Let me show you my devotion by becoming your nourishment,” they said. “I can think of no higher honor than to be consumed by my god.” It truly sounded as if the worshipper, incense in hand and wrapped in the garb of a well-off member of the farmer class, wanted the god Xie Lian to appear before them and gobble them up.
Perched on the crude altar table, doing his best to make out the murmurs over the brushing of wind through the fields beyond the shrine, he figured he could do one of those things.
Gods were not really supposed to appear in the flesh before the common people, it was true. Xie Lian, however, was far past the mores of the Upper Court, owing both to his power and to his shamelessness. So, he slipped into visibility, standing before his altar, extending one hand in benevolence to his worshipper.
Their eyes went wide. “Your Highness Prince Xianle!” they said. Their hands trembled around the incense, and they did not accept their god’s offered hand. “...Why are you making that face?”
“No reason,” Xie Lian blurted. “I was just rather curious what you meant by that prayer, is all.”
Looking up at him, their eyes sparkled. “Your Highness,” they said faintly, then seemed to collect themself. They bowed their head reverently, and spoke. “I have heard tell, around this humble corner of the mortal realm, that the most true and absolute way to worship a god… is to offer oneself up to them, as food on a platter.” They blushed, but did not look away. “I… consider myself one of your worshippers, of course, and I can think of no greater happiness than to be swallowed up by you.”
Xie Lian blinked, and fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve. “Like, actually?” he said.
“Yes!” his worshipper replied at once. “I ask not to feel the inside of your true being, of course, but if you could please send an image of yourself to accept me, I would be honored beyond words.”
“Please wait a moment,” Xie Lian said. “A clone like that would not be able to do anything I can’t do, and I’m not a cannibal. I’ve never eaten anyone before, much less swallowed a human whole.” He would not usually tell so much about his body and his power to a stranger, but this human’s request had caught him so offguard that he felt the need to justify himself. Then, he crouched down, leveling with his strange new friend like a parent speaking to his child. “Is this rumor,” he said gently, “that has been circulating around the human realm, related at all to the Night Touring Green Lantern?” 
Demons he knew to consume human flesh, and some ghosts even made it a habit. If a certain cannibal cousin of his planted the idea of Xie Lian gobbling innocent people up in order to besmirch his name, he would need to ignore this worshipper’s request and get to the bottom of the issue.
Instead, they blinked blankly up at him. “Who?”
Smiling, Xie Lian relaxed, and sat back on his heels. “Nobody at all,” he said.
“In truth,” the human pressed, “they rumor was told to me rather surreptitiously, by a friend who… similarly yearns to show their devotion. It would be an honor, I promise, not a shame.”
For the first time in his life, Xie Lian then sized a human up like a meal. Perhaps, he thought as he looked their body up and down, this was how his cousin Qi Rong felt all the time. Just as quickly, he banished Qi Rong from his mind, and tried to focus on this human and their request.
They were not tall, but they were muscular from working the fields. Their face looked consummately eager, but Xie Lian was not sure he could return their enthusiasm. There was no way this entire human could fit down his throat, then into his stomach, and stay there comfortably.
He sighed, and placed one hand on his worshipper’s shoulder, trying to appear as wise as he could. “Be content with your life as it is for now,” he said, “and know that by praying to me, your essence is become a part of me, and serves my power. I am grateful to you, human, as all gods are to their believers.”
“...Oh.” Eyes downcast, they nodded. “If there is anything more I could do to be worthy of such ultimate service, please do give me a sign,” they whimpered.
As Xie Lian faded away and left the shrine, he couldn’t help but feel pity for the little human.
Eating a person with said person’s consent couldn’t truly be difficult for a god of his power. Slowly, a familiar determination began to creep over Xie Lian. With confidence, and a little bit of training, he could do anything at all.
~🍁~
“Oh, Your Highness~” Hua Cheng drawled as Xie Lian entered his room. Hua Cheng was painting, but set his brush down upon seeing his partner.
“Hello, San Lang,” Xie Lian said. His interaction at the shrine was replaying over and over in his head, each time with more urgency– that human yearned so dearly to be eaten; out of the kindness of Xie Lian’s heart, he would have to do it one way or another.
“My esteemed prince,” said Hua Cheng, moving aside on his cushion to make room for Xie Lian next to him. “What’s that look in your eyes for? You merely went to check on a few of your new countryside shrines today, yes?” Though his words were relaxed, he had a stormy look in his eye, as if plotting in advance his revenge against whatever was causing Xie Lian worry.
“Nothing, San Lang,” Xie Lian said, sinking down beside him and cuddling into his arms. A bowl of sunflower seeds sat on the table next to Hua Cheng’s landscape painting, which Xie Lian happily reached for. Cracking one between his teeth, he thought how different it would be to squeeze a whole human down his throat. A half-crunched seed could go down without issue, but the width of a person’s shoulders would inch down uncomfortably, and make him gag. Alive, they would also probably squirm and wriggle.
A gentle “tsk, tsk, tsk” was coming from Hua Cheng. “I can’t just let my beloved stew in worry, now, can I?” He cracked a sunflower seed’s shell cleanly between his fingers, then handed the undamaged seed to Xie Lian. “Would you prefer I hunt down what troubles you myself, and bring them to a swift end?”
“Please don’t,” Xie Lian replied at once. Then, he ate the sunflower seed, nibbling pensively. “Dear,” he said slowly, “I say this out of curiosity, and not distrust, but…” He looked up at him, at his cool, patient eyes, and pale skin. The master of Ghost City looked outstanding for a dead man.
“Yes, my beloved?” Hua Cheng said.
Xie Lian swallowed. “Since you are a ghost, and it’s your right, I suppose, to do so…” He watched Hua Cheng crack a sunflower seed shell between his elegant white teeth. “Have you ever eaten anyone before?” he asked.
Hua Cheng’s laugh rang out sonorous and clear. “No,” he said. “I got close, a few times, in the desperation of my youth before becoming a Supreme, but I’ve never been driven all the way to such an extreme. Nor have I ever… chosen such a path toward obtaining spiritual power, like Black Water does.”
“That’s not exactly what I’m talking about,” Xie Lian said bashfully. “In Ghost City, for example, I wouldn’t think it out of the ordinary at all for one demon to… ask another to eat it. Has anyone ever made such a request of you, and, well, would you fill it?”
The taste of sunflower seeds lingered in Xie Lian’s mouth over a long, awkward pause.
A soft and deep rumbling slowly began to reverberate out of his Hua Cheng, which steadily grew into a diabolical laugh. “Gege,” he said after a minute, “that is fantastic! Someone really asked you to swallow them down?”
“I didn’t say that, but it’s true; someone–”
Hua Cheng faced Xie Lian, leant close, and opened his lower lip with one thumb. “Someone,” he said, “other than me?”
“Now, hold on, please!” Xie Lian said, pulling away and taking Hua Cheng’s cool hand in both his warm ones. “I will explain everything to you, San Lang… Though I admit I don’t understand all the details yet myself.”
At Xie Lian’s grasping his hand, Hua Cheng seemed to calm. “If Gege will tell,” he said brightly, “San Lang will listen.”
“Very good,” Xie Lian said teasingly, then set his hand down atop his white-clad lap.
“I was touring around my countryside shrines,” he began, “as you know. It was lovely and cool out today, so I saw several mortals who had come to pray.”
Hua Cheng nodded, and made a small noise of approval.
“I know,” Xie Lian continued in his babying tone. “San Lang is happy that I’m becoming more popular as a god, and I am too. Popularity, however, seems to come with several features I would not have expected. For, at a small shrine on the outskirts of a countryside town, I found a worshipper who was praying for me to, well… consume them.”
“What did Gege do?” Hua Cheng asked eagerly.
“I thought about it,” Xie Lian confessed, “and decided that I probably couldn’t fit a whole human down my throat, or in my stomach.”
“...And how do you feel about that?” Hua Cheng said after a pause.
Xie Lian shifted, stiffening, and grabbed a sunflower seed to crack idly in his fingers. “A bit dissatisfied, to be honest,” he blurted out at last. “I mean, there is no reason I shouldn’t be able to squeeze one down, right?” He extracted the seed, and swallowed it morosely. “I feel as if I’ve been negligent in my training.”
“Gege can do anything,” Hua Cheng said, and pressed a kiss into his hair.
“Thanks,” Xie Lian chuckled. “I… was going to ask how you felt about me swallowing down a –very much consenting!– human, but you’re supportive?”
Hua Cheng gave a single laugh from deep within his chest. Xie Lian didn’t need to ask if he was supportive. “Do you really want to know what I think?” he said.
Smiling, Xie Lian brushed a lock of Hua Cheng’s inky dark hair behind his shoulder. “Sure,” he replied, “if you’d like to share.”
Hua Cheng did not say anything, only took back up his paintbrush, and wetted it at his inkstone. After blotting off one bulbous drop of ink, he brought it to the corner of the intricate landscape he had been painting, where a craggy rock overlooked the land. Using the very tip of his brush, he traced out three lines that Xie Lian could tell at once to be his own hat. Then, he drew a few flowing brushstrokes to represent his signature hairstyle. Down his back flowed his simple clothes, and lines formed the length of his sleeves, arms reaching before him to hold something, which he gracefully, intricately, finally drew.
Xie Lian no longer saw himself at all. Hua Cheng rounded out his middle to an extreme extent, masterfully drawing the gathered fabric of his belt as it strained beneath the mass of a freakishly engorged belly. He looked big enough, Xie Lian realized, to be holding another person inside.
“I think,” whispered Hua Cheng, finishing the figure with two pretty feet, “that if Gege looked like this, he would be more beautiful than I could imagine.”
Xie Lian gazed down at the painting, vast landscape punctuated shockingly by his overfull form. “You seem to be imagining it well enough!” he said.
“Oh, Gege,” Hua Cheng sighed, “I can’t help but dream.”
Blushing, he leaned back against Hua Cheng as the latter put his brush down. “To be honest,” he said, “I don’t know how I would feel if I looked like that. I hate being weighed down, and when I see that bloated belly, all I can think of is indigestion.”
“Oh, Your Highness,” said Hua Cheng, wrapping one arm around him. “Just think of it as a feat to achieve. I, for one, would love to see you reach such a peak.”
Xie Lian chuckled, and nuzzled his head into him.
“However,” Hua Cheng continued, “you know there is no need to go for the entire person right away. With some martial training, such a belly would not feel heavy at all to my Xie Lian. And with a little appetite training, it would be easy on your guts, too. Just like training toward godhood, you may work up to it.” He smiled, and gave his head another kiss. “I am here to assist you in any way you desire.”
“Good,” Xie Lian said. “As a ghost, you must know at least a few people who eat weird things. Not just raw, that is, but mindfully. I do hope to become an expert on stuffing myself, so that I may be a righteous god for my believers, so I’d be grateful for any knowledge you could offer.”
“My Gege, so studious,” cooed Hua Cheng. “Yes, I will help you learn to eat like a demon.” He gave a little laugh. “Perhaps we could enlist a bit of help, as well. Just for fun, of course. You don’t need anyone but me.”
“Of course, of course,” Xie Lian replied sarcastically, stroking his San Lang’s chest.
“I can’t wait.”
Xie Lian smiled. “You seem awfully eager to participate in this interaction between a god and his believer,” he teased.
“Well,” Hua Cheng countered, “said god is you.”
Xie Lian looked down at Hua Cheng’s painting of him, so simple, yet made with such care. “Coy San Lang,” he said, and, with affected casualness, placed a hand on his thigh. “Be honest with Gege now. Does the thought of me with such a round belly, filled to the brim with eager, yummy people… make San Lang happy?”
Beautiful, Hua Cheng had said at the idea. He only took his hand off his thigh, and gave it a kiss. Though his touch stayed cold, it prickled Xie Lian’s skin with some strange sensation like demonic energy.
Xie Lian continued to tease him. “Come now, San Lang. You can tell Gege.” He traced his hand down the side of Hua Cheng’s face. “We are a happy, loving couple, after all. San Lang shouldn’t feel any shame when telling his Gege his desires.”
Hua Cheng chased Xie Lian’s hand with his lips for a minute, trying to kiss his warm palm in a silent game of tag. “I think Gege knows me too well,” he purred when Xie Lian finally yanked his hand away, and gave his cheek a final pat. Then, he wrapped Xie Lian in his arms, deftly picking him up as he stood. “I shan’t deny,” he said slowly, lowering Xie Lian onto the bed in the corner, “that your mouth looks dazzlingly handsome whenever it opens. I love seeing your lips part wide to swallow things…” He sat next to Xie Lian, and gave his lips a gentle kiss.
“Your throat,” he continued, “is so elegantly constructed, and already capable of holding so much~” He sucked gently on the muscles beside his Adam’s apple, where Ruoye had spent most of the day. Then, he kept kissing down the hollow of his neck, his collarbones, until he reached his chest, covered by his clothes. Unable to hide a devilish smile, he squeezed with both hands, downward, downward, until–
“San Lang, darling, that tickles!”
“My apologies,” clucked Hua Cheng, then gave his belly another mischievous squeeze. “Although your abdomen is perfect as it is,” he said, “with a stunningly defined set of muscles that this San Lang is tortured to keep his hands off of–” He gave a dramatic sigh, furrowing his brows in a way Xie Lian had only ever seen him do in private. “Hahhh… I’m sure I would be just as ensnared by a belly filled to a truly godly capacity.”
Xie Lian chuckled. “Then, you and my human friend from earlier are of the same mind.”
“In more ways than one,” Hua Cheng said haughtily. “After all, Gege… I am your believer.” Fingertips danced over Xie Lian’s belly, but despite the tickling sensation, Xie Lian did not protest.
“I would be honored,” Hua Cheng continued, softly, solemnly, “to help you attain the ability to swallow your worshippers whole. And I promise to worship you with all my being along the way.”
~🍁~
Hua Cheng had insisted on providing everything Xie Lian might possibly need for his “training.” Eager to watch his beloved prince’s stomach capacity grow, he had an airy bamboo cottage built on a secluded beach, where warm ocean breezes blew.
For Xie Lian’s first session, a mere few days after the big proposition, he had servants of Ghost City wheel in seafood over ice, fresh vegetables, meat and tofu, and a myriad of mouth-watering spices.
Xie Lian, for his part, was asked not to participate in the cooking, only to sit back, relax, and sip tea to whet his appetite. When he grew restless, however, he stepped into the kitchen to check on the food, and stood there rapt, struggling to believe his own eyes.
He was used to simple foods, even discarded scraps, and it had been a long time since he had truly eaten like a prince every day. Yet here were Hua Cheng’s underlings, sizzling up meats in fragrant oil, brewing delicately-seasoned soups, and slicing vegetables thinner than blades of grass. All was for him, for no special occasion at all.
Part of him regretted their putting in such an effort, but an even greater part of him yearned for it– he had only eaten a bun for breakfast, and he was hungry.
After being wheedled back to his seat in the main dining room, the door crashed open to reveal a distinctive figure clad in red.
“San Lang!” Xie Lian burst out.
“Your Highness!” Hua Cheng sang, and fell into Xie Lian’s arms. 
After a long moment of squeezing his Hua Cheng close, Xie Lian opened his eyes. Two figures, one clad in gold armor, the other clad in black, stood stiffly before the door. “Oh,” Xie Lian blurted, then whispered into Hua Cheng’s ear, “I see you invited Feng Xin and Mu Qing.”
“Your most beloved highness,” Hua Cheng drawled, swaying with him in his arms, “I thought you might like an extra bit of help. After all, I love seeing you cared for.”
“You thought it would be funny to invite them,” Xie Lian whispered.
“Absolutely,” said Hua Cheng. “I hope this may be a delightful occasion for us all.”
“Well,” Xie Lian said, breaking away from Hua Cheng and squeezing his shoulders, “it certainly seems like an occasion, with all this fancy food. Are you sure it’s all for me?”
“Of course,” Hua Cheng said, placing a hand on Xie Lian’s waist and giving his forehead a kiss. “Granted, if Gege cannot finish it all, there are many mouths here who will do the job for him. But–” He leaned in close. “–between you and me, I dearly hope you can fit it all down.”
“Me too,” Xie Lian said, blushing, and returned to his seat. As Feng Xin and Mu Qing filed into the kitchen, he realized he had forgotten to ask Hua Cheng if they knew he was training to eat someone or not. The pair, however, were back in an instant, plates in their hands, and Hua Cheng rapidly set the table while humming a song, like a loyal butler in crimson.
To Xie Lian’s relief, the dishes were not large. As his friends brought them out to the table one by one, he was delighted to see some dim sum dishes, soup, a few fried entrees, and plenty of carbohydrates.
“This,” Hua Cheng said, leaning in close and gesturing to a plate of fluffy rice with veggies, “will expand very nicely inside you. You’ll feel more full than you ever have before.” He winked, and gave Xie Lian’s tummy a pat.
Mu Qing, who had been setting down a plate of pepper fried tofu, was staring at them, a definitively bothered expression on his face. Xie Lian was beginning to realize just why Hua Cheng had invited the two generals here, and just what type of fun he hoped to have. 
He should pity the two, but was far too charmed by Hua Cheng. Placing one hand on his belly, he sat back, and smiled. “I can’t wait,” he said brightly. “I promise to eat as much as I can, for San Lang and my dear former deputies.”
Rolling his eyes, Mu Qing returned to the kitchen.
In less than a minute, then, the food was ready, all set out on the table alongside some quality tea.
“Thank you all dearly,” Xie Lian said as he pulled his chair up. “I’m touched to see this feast for me. But please–” He gestured to the dishes. “–Help yourself. I want you all to eat and be happy, as w–”
“–ggurggbbbll…”
He broke off, chuckling bashfully, as his stomach interrupted him with a long, discontented growl. He gave it a pat, and it murmured to him again, ab muscles rippling under his touch.
Neither Feng Xin nor Mu Qing were doing him the honor of looking at him.
“I think Supreme Lord Hua would tear us to literal pieces if we took so much as a nibble,” grumbled Mu Qing.
“Yeah,” said Feng Xin, “and with the way your stomach just shouted, I’m almost more afraid of you.”
“Don’t worry,” Xie Lian said, helping himself to some fried greens. “I’m the only one here to train, so you may just relax. I’d like this to be fun for us all.”
Mu Qing rolled his eyes, but scooped a few more greens onto Xie Lian’s plate before taking his seat. Had Hua Cheng asked him to do that ahead of time? Xie Lian was pleased either way.
As he dug into the succulent vegetables, savoring their aromatic oil and spices, he was watched attentively. Feng Xin and Mu Qing sat on his adjacent sides, opposite each other. Across the table from Xie Lian sat Hua Cheng, head propped on one hand, gazing at him with unabashed adoration as food vanished into his mouth.
“Say,” Hua Cheng spoke after Xie Lian had cleared his plate and begun serving himself more, “Gege does not have to keep scooping food onto his plate. Since all is for him, he is welcome to eat directly from the dishes.”
“Yeah, c’mon,” Feng Xin muttered. “No need to be polite. Everyone here has seen worse.”
Xie Lian swallowed a delicious mouthful, reluctant to admit how much the idea of shoveling food straight into his mouth appealed to him in his ravenous condition. “Ah,” he said, “I was wondering why there are no serving chopsticks.”
“Because only one beautiful man is being served~” cooed Hua Cheng.
Smiling, Xie Lian pulled a few different dishes toward him, and munched away happily.
Mu Qing was grumbling something under his breath, but at a brief “Hm?” from Hua Cheng, he fell silent.
Xie Lian loved the feeling of the hunger in his tummy abating. Having fed on meager scraps for much of his life, he would be satisfied by anything, but there was something special about a feast this sumptuous.
He ate without restraint, Feng Xin and Mu Qing obediently pushing new, full dishes toward him every time he got close to scraping one clean. He felt beloved in a way one thousand prayers from worshippers could not make him feel. Each bite of food and guzzle of tea seemed to fill not just his stomach, but his heart.
“Fuck,” Feng Xin muttered, “you were starving, huh?”
“So much for precious prince Xie Lian, darling of all the realms,” quipped Mu Qing. “You’re eating like a monster.”
Stifling a burp by pressing a curled finger to his mouth, Xie Lian looked at Mu Qing. “Sorry,” he said. “I can eat more slowly if you’d prefer. Feng Xin is right, though, I was reall-rrp-really hungry.”
“Don’t bother,” said Mu Qing, crossing his arms.
“That’s right,” said Hua Cheng, refilling Xie Lian’s cup of tea. “My Gege will eat however he likes. Gege will become wonderfully stuffed with food for us, yes?”
“Yes!” Xie Lian chirped, ignoring the further awkward glances from his two former deputies.
Before long, the dim sum dishes had vanished down Xie Lian’s greedy gullet. As Hua Cheng had predicted, the more carb-rich dishes, such as sticky rice balls and fluffy buns, filled up his stomach like an embrace from within. Some pressure had begun to accumulate at his middle, where his gut pressed against his clothes.
He took a contemplative sip of tea. “Would you all mind terribly,” he said, “if I loosened my belt just a smidge? It’s true you’ve all seen me shirtless before, but I hope a bit more chest showing at the table wouldn’t offend you terribly… Would it?”
“It doesn’t count as ‘at the table’ when you’re the only one eating,” remarked Mu Qing, who immediately thereafter let out a high yelp. He glared over at Hua Cheng, who was smiling devilishly. With the size of the table, Hua Cheng could not physically have stomped on Mu Qing’s foot, but it appeared that by his Supreme powers, he had done it anyway.
Xie Lian, watching the exchange go down, reached to his belt to slowly loosen it.
“Ahhh~” He could not hold in a sigh of bliss. His stomach sank down into its newfound open space, food settling anew. As his belly let out a grumble of contentment, he looked at the remaining food with renewed enthusiasm.
“That’s your cue,” Hua Cheng said in a snakelike hiss.
A moment later, Xie Lian realized he was talking not to him, but to Feng Xin and Mu Qing, who rushed to push two rich, heavy dishes toward him.
The first, a plate of stewed beef in chili sesame oil, Xie Lian gobbled with delight. The hot chunks of meat spread their savory flavor through his mouth, and warmed his throat on their way down. It was not long, therefore, before only a few limp vegetables remained. He leaned back, gave his belly a pat, and pressed a long, low burp into one fist. His belly was filling up his loosened clothes already, and as he let the burp out, he felt the firm skin soften beneath his touch.
“Oof, ‘scuse me,” he said, smiling apologetically at his tablemates.
“No ‘excuse me’s needed,” purred Hua Cheng. “All of us are happy to watch our prince feed.”
Feng Xin was industriously organizing the dishes before Xie Lian, and Mu Qing was blushing as he peered through one eye at his brazenly loosened clothes and the slight bulge of his belly.
“Well, don’t stop on my account,” Mu Qing snapped when Xie Lian caught him staring. “We’re here to feed you, and you’ve got all this food, so you might as well eat.”
“Thank you, Mu Qing,” Xie Lian said, ignoring how flustered Mu Qing sounded. “Feng Xin, thank you too.” He began to spoon together a mouthful of spicy pork and tofu. “This is just what I want right now, and you put it right in front of me!”
“You’re welcome,” Feng Xin said begrudgingly.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian sang after swallowing down a hefty spoonful, “aren’t these two generals so well-behaved? I’m oh-so-happy I chose them as my deputies all those years ago.”
“Don’t make fun of us,” Feng Xin barked. “Just eat, okay?”
“Gege,” Hua Cheng said, “it seems all three of us are in agreement as to what you ought to sit back, clear your mind, and do.” Then, through the spiritual communication array in Xie Lian’s mind, “I can’t wait to see you full to bursting.”
With such words from his own Hua Cheng, Xie Lian could only obey. He practically drank the food down into himself, feeling the sweet press on his bloated stomach, consuming with bliss, until–
“Oh!” burst Feng Xin and Mu Qing in unison.
Dizzy from feasting, Xie Lian took a long moment to realize that from behind his already loosened belt, his tummy had popped out, flushed and swollen, pushing his belt down. “Oh –urp– I’m practically naked!” he said.
“It’s fine,” pressed Feng Xin. “Just keep eating. You’re doing great so far, just a few more little dishes to go.”
Xie Lian could hardly breathe without a soft, bubbly burp crawling its way up from his distended belly. “Hfff… Actually,” he said, “I think I might need a break.” 
“You’ve got this,” Feng Xin continued, far more sincere than Xie Lian had heard him in a very long time. “You’re almost there. Remember, this is training.”
Yes. This was stomach training for the sake of his believers. Xie Lian struggled to straighten up, adjusted his belt even lower beneath his bulging gut, and swallowed down a few more bites of his food. With such wholesome and nutritious fare filling him, even through the pressure of his overfullness, he felt good. 
Still, he could not go on. Setting his chopsticks down, he flopped back in his chair.
“Sweet, beautiful Gege,” said Hua Cheng in a soft voice. “Generals? Just as we discussed.”
Through half-lidded eyes, Xie Lian watched the two figures of his generals come toward him. Moments later, a bite of food entered his mouth. Feeling still far from sick, he accepted, slowly chewing and swallowing. This went on for a long while, Xie Lian’s tummy growing fuller and fuller, until Hua Cheng’s loving whisper sounded out again.
“Very good, both of you. And excellent, Gege.”
Packed with food, his belly now filled out the chair he was sitting in; if he were as close to the table as he had started, it would be digging painfully in at his stomach. One hand on the bulging, bulbous mass, Xie Lian let out a rumbling burp. He was too stuffed to excuse himself, manners or no.
“Beautiful,” Hua Cheng repeated, then raised his voice. “Generals, you are dismissed.”
Afraid he might burst with food, Xie Lian reached for a sip of tea. The cooling liquid trickled soothingly down into his belly as he watched Feng Xin and Mu Qing leave the cabin.
“I’m ashamed,” he whined to Hua Cheng once it was only the two of them in the room. “I’m a god, and I could barely clear a whole tableful without falling apart. There’re legends of –bblurp– joyful, free-spirited deities whose love of food bordered on gluttony. Perhaps it’s prideful to think I could rival them, but–”
He stopped. Hua Cheng had risen, and brought one smooth hand to his belly. “You are always,” he said, “a paragon among gods. You did splendidly today; every bite swallowed down was a sight to behold.” He rubbed in tender circles, knowing just where to apply gentle pressure to stimulate the valves of his digestive tract. “Your every motion is divine,” he whispered.
Xie Lian swore to himself, listening to Hua Cheng speak, that he would respond with something just as profound. But he was dizzyingly full. But Hua Cheng was pressing in all the right spots. But at that point, he was not sure anything could come out of his mouth besides–”
“urrrrRRAAAAAAAP!”
Hua Cheng grinned, pale cheeks blushing. “Oh, Your Highness,” he simpered, “what a mighty god you are.”
Gently, Xie Lian ran a hand through Hua Cheng’s hair.
“You ate so well,” Hua Cheng said.
“Mmmm~”
“Eat me next?”
Xie Lian blinked. “Huh?”
A coy smile was plastered all over Hua Cheng’s face. He didn’t reply, only cuddled up closer to him, evidently relishing in the touch of his full belly under his hands.
“Oh, San Lang,” Xie Lian said after a moment, “a god must attend to his duties. I have a human to eat first… and a whole lot of –hic– eating practice to complete before then.”
“Just kidding,” Hua Cheng said breezily.
Bound to his chair by the weight of his gut, Xie Lian did not feel uncomfortable. Hua Cheng’s every caress was a mercy. He held him close, and spoke into his ear: “Either way– thank you so much for this wonderful meal.”
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mixsethaddams · 3 months
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For a while, I was a Classics student. I loved it dearly but because of €€€ I had to drop out before finishing my degree. Part of the initial arts study was creative writing.
This was one of the pieces I wrote. It was the highest graded thing I ever made. So probably for the best that the Classics didn’t work out, if the CW assignments were where I was thriving.
Prompt: A Day On The Moors (max wordcount 1000 )
We were lucky with the weather. The morning had been bleak, with grey clouds imposing overhead, threatening to pour rain at any moment. Mum had yelled at me to “Take a jacket! You’ll catch your death if that day turns!” so I grabbed something on the way down the stairs to keep her happy, before dumping it in the hallway before I went out the door. As the cool air prickled at my arms, I wondered if the jacket really was a good idea. I’d spent a full week picking the perfect outfit for my day out with Gracie’s family for her sixteenth birthday and a jacket hadn’t factored into it, so I convinced myself that the breeze was refreshing, not biting, and sped up my walk towards her house.
“Make sure you look nice!” had been the instructions from Gracie’s parents. “We’re going on a picnic and we’ll take some lovely photos while we’re there.”
My blouse was white with red stitching and a red bow at the cap of the short sleeves, and my navy skirt swooshed around my knees with the wind. Mum had helped me twist my hair up into a neat bun and I felt pretty as a pin; sure that I’d fit right in to the photos with my friend and her family.
I had just rounded the corner when the first drop of rain hit my nose. I groaned and was about to run home for my jacket when I heard a car horn behind me. Gracie’s dad pulled over and I hopped into the backseat, squashing in with Gracie and our other friend Ness. Her mum was sitting in the front seat making marks on a map.
“Glad we caught you!” said Gracie’s dad. “We decided to leave a few minutes early to beat the traffic. Would have been a right shame to miss you”
The car was warm and smelled of the boiled sweets that Gracie’s mum was sucking on. The low hum of the radio was drowned out mostly by the engine, but her parents didn’t seem to mind.
“Where are we going?” I asked. Gracie and Ness just shrugged.
“Mum says somewhere really special,” said Gracie. “But I think it’s a swamp”
“A swamp?” asked Ness. “I thought it was a park!”. She had always been afraid of anything that was too ‘dirty’ and always moaned about being clean. It was endearing once you got to know her.
I saw a road sign pointing the way out of the city and into the countryside, and the car lurched as we merged onto the motorway.
“I didn’t know we’d be leaving town” I whispered to my friends. “Mums not expecting me home late”
“She won’t mind,” said Gracie. “She knows you’re with us”
“Yeah, we’re all here together!” reassured Ness. “Come on, we’ll play I Spy”
I don’t remember much else of the car journey up here. We stopped at a service station and then everyone was quiet.
Gracie’s dad helped me out of the car and into the sunshine. I was glad to be out after being covered up for so long, with my leg pressed awkwardly against a spade. Her mum had cooed some nice words to me when she had put the blanket over my head but I don’t think she meant them.
“Pretty girl,” she said softly, brushing a lock of hair back behind my ear. I was laying on the picnic blanket beside Gracie and Ness. The pins in my hair had come undone at the station but I couldn’t fix them. I wanted to cry for the effort my mum had put into getting them just right, but I couldn’t do that now either. Gracie’s parents had started to take their photos.
“Little dolls at a tea party” mumbled her Dad, readjusting Ness’s shoe. The strap broke when she was lifted from the boot, it had caught on Gracie’s hand and snapped in half. I was glad it wasn’t raining out here like it was at home. I never liked the rain, and lying here in it would have been awfully uncomfortable. Besides, all the mud would have upset Ness. Yes, the sun was best for now, I think.
After they finished with the camera, they started to dig with the spade that had been beside me in the car. It was almost night-time before they were ready.
Gracie went in first. Her milky white skin looked even brighter beside the dark soil. Ness was next. My soul ached for my dear, clean friend, surrounded by dirt. If I listened closely, I could hear her own soul screaming at the very thought of it. I wanted to get up and run, but my body couldn’t hear me anymore.
Now was my turn to be lowered in beside my friends. The earth slowly came up around us as the hole was filled. I heard the final pat-pat-pat of the shovel on top of me, and some dragging noises as wreaths of heather were moved on top of us. On the surface, the landscape would still appear untouched. The car rumbled away back towards the road. What would they tell my mum?, I thought. If I had taken the extra minute to put on my jacket, would I be here? I should have kept running when I first felt the rain.
I remembered Ness’s words of reassurance as I tried to find comfort in my eternity. “We’re all here together!”
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sab-teraa · 3 months
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Tye Talks: A Diary Entry
(22/02/24 || 22:58 pm)
Good evening friends, I hope you are all well and having a lovely Thursday! Just one more day till the weekend! Yay <3
Inspired by the lovely @the-winds-of-destiny-xxx , I've decided to start blogging about my day. Hopefully, I will be able to stay up to date lol.
Work
Ugh, I've been up since 5am prepping myself to deliver my second lecture of the semester. It went well, kinda. The students were super interactive which is great. Application + practicality > regurgitating information. They did super well. Also, we have a new HoD, and while I really liked our previous heads, the new HoD is a breath of fresh air and I really enjoy their approach towards education.
My full-time job is actually soooo … atm. My colleague has resigned which is all cool and I wish her the best.
But, there’s a trend I’ve noticed recently within our organization … and I hope it does not present any problems in the future. Tbh, I think it has presented a problem before … but idk. Anyway, constructive criticism goes a long long way … only if you’re keen and willing to learn …. which this person defo is NOT.
Enough about my colleagues, the CEO presented me with an opportunity but I'm lowkey nervous .. bc I prefer being a private + somewhat anonymous person lol, but I obviously said yes. Let's see how it goes, anything can happen and this whole project might fall through. Especially in this economy.
All in all, I really love my job and the career path I’ve taken. I hope it does not backfire on me later on in life.
Uni
Gosh. Uni is the bane of my existence atm. Tho, i did make a bit of progress on my thesis today. I know exactly what I need to do, but I just don't have the motivation to it. But, I think I've finally got myself together .. so let's see what happens.
Also, I'm so grateful for my thesis supervisor <3 she is so understanding and supportive.
Health
Is this tmi? Maybe? Apologies if so?
But, my nose and throat have been KILLING me recently? Idk if it’s bc of the fan or what … but yup. Thank god for cloves! They’ve helped wayyyy more than anything else I’ve tried lol. Also, my pms is really starting to hit 😭😭 I’ve been in soooo much pain since I got back home.
My mentally, I’m doing okay … there’s obvs moments in the day where I’m like shit?? I’m an adult adult?? Yet my life feels so stagnant 😂 but then I try to keep it moving and not think so much about what I want … and I try to focus on what I do have…. bc I’ve done my best.
Fun and mundane
I finally got to go to my first gym class of the week - I really needed that! The housewives from my class invited me for smoothies afterwards … and they are so fun! Are they my mums age mates? Yes 😂😂 but I loved hanging out with them .. they truly live in their own bubble .. I wanna be exactly like them when I’m older lol.
Oh Oh! And I finally finished the second season of Al Rawabi School for Girls ... flip, it truly broke my heart. What an amazing show.
I really wanted to start the new season of Real Housewives of Durban … but the new Showmax app is truly YUCK! I have the ick 🫠🫠 but, I love the show waaaaay too much, so I’d probs get over it soon lol.
Other than gym and catching up on tv, I made a delicious lasagna for dinner. I'm convinced that my homemade meat sauce and cheese sauce remains undefeated, or maybe that's just me being cocky lol. If I had more space, I would have defo attempted to make the pasta too.
I'm super excited for this weekend bc my friends and I are going to this art and music event and getting food afterwards. I also really wanna buy that duvet set I saw online ... since I'm no longer purchasing an apartment (recession boo boo boo 🍅🍅🍅), I may as well just re-do my current apartment lol. It already looks great, but I've been putting off getting a new duvet set bc I presumed I was gonna buy a bigger bed lol... so I've just been rotating between the two sets I have ... and damn they've seen better days lol.
Relationships
After all he has been through, my brother finally has some great things happening. I am so proud of him. I know he will achieve everything he aspires to <3 This has also done wonders for his self-confidence, he truly needed this, and I hope ... I really hope that it stays on this positive track.
Positive family news aside, idk if anyone saw the post about my uncle? But god damn I'm annoyed af. (Side note: He is my mums cousin btw; but my entire family is close). Anyway, my uncle called my mum to rant … and according to my mum he was sooooo proud of what he said to his wife??? I’m just disgusted. Idk how. His wife could forgive him for this. I’m so glad my mum put him in his place ✋🏽✋🏽✋🏽
I know its not about me and I have no right to speak on other people's relationships, but I hate seeing people put their all into a relationship and even go against their own family to be with someone ... only for their partner to treat them like this. His wife deserves soooooo much better and its sooo heartbreaking that she has to go through. My heart truly breaks for her. I pray everything works out for her.
Conclusion
Anywho … if you made it this far! Thank you for reading my ramblings <3 wishing you a lovely day! Stay safe babes 😘
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viacursecasting · 8 months
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A Sea Of Stars.
An Arte X Ivy Drabble
What the hell is wrong with me?
Restless, the maroon cat tossed and turned well into the deep hours of the silent night. Despite the Alaskan king mattress, despite the Egyptian cotton sheets, despite the mountain of cooling pillows, he couldn't get a wink of shut-eye.
He didn't quite understand it himself, but he craved... something. He wasn't sure what. All he knew was that he had this aching, burning, y e a r n i n g in his chest—like he had a void where his heart should be. He moaned, the pain almost too much to bear as he clutched his beating organ. What was it he longed for?
Perhaps he should be asking not what, but who.
He didn't want to admit it but he had a feeling that the only thing that could fill the space was her. Her radiant ambers, her silky smooth voice, her stubborn yet caring personality. He knew that when she risked her life for him, she was just doing her job as a bodyguard. But those fleeting moments where their gazes would linger, their touches would spark, their breaths would falter...
Was he just imagining those?
He sighed, only to grunt in agony. Then he heard a knock at the door. "Come in," he croaked.
A royal blue spider poked her head in. "Kingsley? Are you alright?"
His heart seized up in that stupid way it did every time he saw her. "Yes, I'm fine." He sat up in an effort to prove it. "Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you."
Ivy nodded once, about to take her leave—
"Wait!" Arte cried.
She did so, looking at him inquisitively.
Shit, he didn't think this far.
"I... can't sleep," he confessed. "Could you keep me company?"
"As you wish." Ivy closed the door behind her before ambling to his bedside. "Is something on your mind?"
He laughed hollowly. "What isn't on my mind."
"Perhaps some fresh air might clear your head." She walked over to the balcony, swinging open the glass doors.
A cool breeze caressed Arte's face, making him feel instantly at ease.
She gawked outside long enough to pique Arte's curiosity. He chimed, "You okay?"
"Hm?" Ivy blinked from her trance. "Oh, yes, it's just... The stars are quite lovely tonight."
Arte was already out of bed, putting on his trench coat and shoes. "If you think that's great, you should really see them from the countryside." He glided past her, hopping on the railing with a devilish smile. "Coming?"
Incredulous, Ivy retorted, "It's the middle of—"
But Arte paid no mind, jumping off the balcony with a charming salute, knowing she would be following close behind.
~
He led her through a winding path embraced by flowering fields and lush trees until they arrived at a secluded lake, sparkling in the moonlight. When she gazed at the night sky, she was breathless; the stars seemed to shine ten times brighter, singing like beacons of hope. She could even see the cool ethereal hues of the Milky Way.
She wondered how many wishes it cradled.
The feline walked confidently toward the water's edge. Ivy almost stopped him, thinking he was about to get his shoes wet, but then she saw him freeze the surface with snowflake-shaped constructs beneath each footstep, allowing him to walk on water.
Of course. How could she forget he was a cryokinetic?
Ivy called after him, "If you fall, I am not fishing for you."
Arte laughed, a melodious sound. "I think you will be falling. For me, that is," he said with a wink. He then gracefully skated away, wondering if she was blushing beneath her mask.
He put on a dazzling show for her, effortlessly gliding upon his makeshift ice, leaving sparkling snowflakes in his wake. He twisted and twirled, making it look easy, and even made a few impressive tricks in the air, landing flawlessly each time. He rapidly spun on one foot for the finale, posing with an elegant flourish.
He heard the arachnid give a gentle clap before skating toward her, holding out his hand.
Ivy was slightly taken aback. "I've never skated before."
"I've got you," Arte vowed as he constructed ice blades beneath her soles, raising her an inch off the ground. "Just trust me."
Ivy was about to refuse until she peered into his cyan saucers, particularly his deformed pupil. While others might have found it disconcerting, she found it alluring. It seemed to draw her in like a magnet.
She took his hand, cool to the touch. She wobbled a bit before he put his other hand around her waist to steady her, sending chills down her spine.
It was not unwelcome.
Arte guided her gently across the ice until she seemed to get the hang of it, twirling her now and then as if they were partaking in a waltz. There were a few times she thought she would lose her balance and clutched him close, which made him chuckle, a breath that tickled her ear.
Soon their movements synchronized and they used the entirety of the lake as their stage, gliding so fast they were a blur. Their limbs flowed and intertwined as smooth as water. With the twinkling sky above and the glittering lake below, the way the duo kicked up snowflakes made them look like they were drowning in a sea of stars.
The couple slid toward the center of the lake, catching their breaths as they held each other a whisper apart. When Ivy rested her head on his chest, she could hear his racing organ. "Are you alright? Your heart rate..."
"I'm more than alright," Arte confessed, lifting up her chin with a featherlight touch, "now that I'm with you."
Ivy's own pulse quickened as she read his eyes, which were completely sincere. She saw him glance at her mask, and watched his muzzle tint.
He asked under his breath, "May I?"
Just as she reached up, she felt faint, becoming limp in his arms.
Arte held her upright, nearly stumbling, as his face washed over with concern. "Ivy? Ivy! What's wrong?"
Darkness threatened to overtake her vision as she fought to keep it at bay, but with one last shiver she slipped into unconsciousness...
~
The light of dawn greeted her when her eyes flickered open. She was blanketed with multiple layers and a heating pad. When she sat up she noticed the thermoregulating gauze around her waist and hands.
"You're awake!"
She looked over to see the cat bringing her a warm cup of green tea. "Kingsley? What am I doing in your bed?"
"Recovering, I hope," Arte replied sheepishly. Then he grew solemn. "You passed out from a mild case of frostbite."
Ivy took the cup, glancing at her downcast reflection in the liquid. "Oh."
Arte took a seat beside the bed. "I'm sorry. It was stupid of me to keep you so close, especially since you're immunocompromised."
"It was an accident," Ivy reassured him.
"Yes, but..." Arte groaned in frustration, dropping his gaze in shame. "You're always looking out for me. It didn't occur to me that I should be doing the same for you." He tightened his fist. "I won't be so selfish anymore."
Then he stared at his hands as if they betrayed him. "When I realized why you fainted in my arms, I felt so guilty. I didn't realize I could be such a danger to you."
His eyes started to well with tears. "Perhaps you're right, Ivy. Perhaps we shouldn't be togeth—"
He was caught off guard when an ebony web strand yanked him toward her, landing him on top. He reddened furiously. "I-Ivy—!"
"I was wrong," Ivy admitted. "Despite your ice, you showed me something I've never experienced before."
Arte blinked. "Skating?"
Ivy let out an amused huff. "No," she corrected. "Warmth."
The cat felt that very warmth in his cheeks.
Ivy smiled, reveling in his embarrassment. She touched a curled finger to his chin. "Keep me company?"
Arte chuckled, wondering who the real boss was. "As you wish."
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i-did-not-mean-to · 10 months
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A crash of drums, a flash of light
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First request of this week goes to @wandererindreams who's asked for Fëanor x shy reader.
Thank you so much for this request! It was a really good one to start this week off with and get back into the flow :D
Words: 990
Characters: Fëanor x reader
Prompt: Fireworks
Warnings: None
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"Where are we going?"
You clenched your hands into tight fists, creasing the fabric of your rich garments reprehensibly, to keep yourself focused on the radiant apparition walking before you so purposefully.
Fëanáro's voice ebbed and flowed like a river as he gave you an account of his experiments that was both too fast and too detailed for you to understand.
All you could gather from his excited explanation was that he had managed something quite extraordinary.
"Even the Maiar will attend," he now declared, pride ringing in his voice like a golden bell.
Despite your deep and paralysing confusion, you felt a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
In these rare moments of intimacy—in dark corridors and smoky ateliers—he was no longer the crown prince, the firstborn son of Finwë of the Noldor, but a free, incandescent spirit ready and able to push beyond the superficial perfection of this Blessed Realm.
"You were saying?" he then asked as if he had only now fully realised that you had spoken.
Almost tripping over your own feet in your haste to assuage the flicker of doubt and impatience flitting over his handsome face, you lifted your hands in a soothing gesture.
As Fëanáro turned around at exactly that moment, your cool palms landed on his broad chest. Unable to move, you had to endure his amused smile as he stepped back slowly.
"My apologies," you squeaked. The way your voice wavered and petered out like a candle in the wind made you flinch with shame.
For as long as you could remember, people had relentlessly admonished you to speak up and state your thoughts in a calm, collected, and coherent manner.
Despite all your assiduous practice and your stubborn resolutions, you had unfortunately not yet mastered the art of overcoming your natural reluctance to draw more attention to your person than was strictly necessary though.
Your mother usually called you "shy" in that indulgently exasperated tone of one who wished for things to be different but refused to inflict harm and hurt upon their own child willingly.
"I.." you tried again, battling the urge to gnaw on your lower lip in discomfort. "I merely asked where it was you were leading me?"
Truth be told, you would have followed Fëanáro anywhere—your trust in both his genius and his inherent goodness was not shaken by his fiery temper and his famed impatience.
Even though you could not deny that his words and actions sometimes could frighten you, you were convinced that you were not indeed scared of him.
"Come," he barked, "I want you to see this."
His hands were warm and strong as they curled around your upper arms resolutely and pushed you down onto a strange contraption that seemed to consist solely of a complex construction of interlaced rods and interwoven bands of silken fabric.
"How do you find my portable chair?" he asked cheerily. "It's made of many mobile parts that can be torn asunder without destroying their integrity. The cloth bands hold the bars together and thus, the whole chair can be transported easily."
"Ingenious," you breathed, awe-struck yet again by his brilliance.
"Now," he declared and pointed to the sky, "sit and watch."
A muted sigh of disappointment escaped you as you watched him scamper from view.
A moment later, though, he returned—he was out of breath and beaming brightly.
"The sky," he reminded you, clasping your frail chin in his imperious fingers and tilting your head up gently.
Fire bloomed across a field of inky darkness and your hands flew up to shield your face.
"No," he insisted. "You're safe with me, I promise."
Streaks of colour exploded with a sound akin to a thousand horses thundering through the darkened sky.
"It's...beautiful," you whispered, shaken by this unprecedented cunning and daring.
From somewhere in the distance came the awed murmurs of other onlookers, but Fëanáro seemed to have forgotten about everybody outside of the small clearing over which you were presiding so regally.
"Give me your words, oh quiet one," he urged, falling to his knees before you. "Long have I known that we are not alike in mind and manner. Where I say too much—to the point of enervating others—you keep your own council and your dignified peace. Let it not be so now, I beg you!"
As ever when you were asked to speak, a dense fog of anxious unease settled stiflingly upon your every confused thought.
For Fëanáro though—who was gracious, generous, and grandiose—you had to at least try to overcome that deplorable flaw of yours.
"I have never even imagined anything as marvellous as this," you confessed. "It seems that you've managed to harness light, strength, and colour to paint in between and beyond Laurelin and Telperion."
Satisfaction and pride made his eyes gleam—you could see still the reflection of his mesmerising invention in that hypnotising gaze and an exhilarating excitement surged within your core.
"Do you want more?" he asked, his voice deep and thrumming.
By this time, you were no longer sure that you were still talking about the blazing flowers he had planted into thin air, but you found yourself nodding obediently, nonetheless.
You opened your lips as if to speak, but you found that you could not. What words would do justice to his radiance, pulling you under like a wave of embers cresting into foaming light?
Blindly, you groped for his hand and brought it to your still aimlessly moving lips.
Gratitude. Wonder. Love unspoken, love unknown.
Demure, quiet, and soft-spoken as you were known to be, you understood in that very moment that this extraordinary creature staring at you with the intensity of a thousand hallowed trees might well be able to kindle a savage inferno within you as much as within the placid, cool air of an otherwise uneventful moment under Telperion's clement shimmer.
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@fellowshipofthefics here's the first for this week.
Thank you so much and lots of love!
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10piecechickennuggy · 8 months
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Magic and Secrets, Chapter 2 - Sanji x Witch!OC
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WARNING: Mature content ahead!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own One Piece or the art featured above. This is a fan-created work featuring an original character.
Read Chapter 1 Here
Bloodied hands scrubbed frantically at the marble floor, tears mixing with soapy water. 
“Please, my Lord! Have mercy!” A slave pleaded to her master.
Misericors Toshinori only scoffed at the pathetic display. “And why should I? It’s not like she’s my daughter.”
Vera continued to scrub, the wounds on her hands stinging. She tried desperately to ignore the conversation happening behind her. Even at six years old, she knew better than to hope for kindness. Not from her stepfather.
“She’s just a child! Give her a chance to live, I beg you!” The woman dropped to her knees, groveling before the white-clad man.
“The illegitimate brat is lucky she’s even allowed to breathe.” Misericors sneered, hatred flowing like venom from his lips. “At the very least I should be able to profit from her continued existence.” 
“Enough of this.” A firm, feminine voice interrupted the slave before she could speak. Praesentia Aenigmatica, the lady of the house, entered the ornately decorated parlor. An air of authority followed the woman. “Stop this wretched babbling and get back to work.” Her eyes crinkled as her attention shifted from the slave to her child, still scrubbing away as if she’d not just had her hands crushed.
Paper rustled as it exchanged hands. Praesentia’s scowl transitioned into a delighted smile upon reading the letter’s contents. “This is splendid, dear. Finally, someone willing to pay our asking price.”
Praesentia moved to exit the room, turning to address the slave who’d been pleading for her daughter’s arranged marriage. “And clean up the whelp. She’s smearing blood on the floor.”
***
“Excuse me, miss. But may I see your panties?” Vera stared at the skeletal hand outstretched toward her. The undead man had made the vulgar request with such decorum that the girl didn't know how to respond. Luckily enough, that decision was made for her almost immediately.
“Ow!” Bone could be heard breaking under Nami’s fist. 
“Cut it out, Brook!” Anger morphed the ginger woman’s face into a monstrous expression. “Go be a perv somewhere else!”
The musician rubbed his afro-clad skull as he scurried away. “Sorry about him. Anyway, it’s nice to meet you!” As if the disturbance had never occurred, Nami’s features returned to a calm smile.
Vera opened her mouth, about to thank the woman for dealing with the offending skeleton when a boy bounded up to her, holding a straw hat firmly against his head. “So you’re a witch?!” The raven haired boy wore a toothy grin that scrunched his face.
Smooth fingers landed on Vera’s shoulder. “The genuine article.” Sanji nodded, lifting a newly-lit cigarette to his lips and inhaling deeply. “I thought a spell caster would make a great addition to the crew. Plus, she’s a trained maid!”
Luffy’s eyes sparkled. “That’s so cool! Join my crew!” He waited with impatience for Vera’s answer.
She shook the cook’s hand off her shoulder and pondered her options. This group was far more eclectic than she’d imagined when Sanji told her they were pirates. The captain was barely an adult and acted more like an impulsive child. Did she really want to swear her loyalty to someone so boisterous?
Sensing her hesitation, a furry creature approached. Vera had to look downward, observing the form of a tanuki. With antlers? And a hat? It spoke in a child-like voice. “If you’re nervous, I can promise you’ll have fun here!”
The girl’s head rotated, her gaze meeting a large window. Trees bent in harsh curves, strong winds forcing them into unnatural positions. A thick haze obscured much of the village, rain falling in quantities so large that only the buildings nearest the hotel could be seen. Had she not ran into Sanji at such an opportune moment, she’d likely be out in this very storm. But thanks to that chance encounter, she was indoors and engaged in a conversation with the potential to alter her life indefinitely.
“Alright.” She nodded to her new captain, deciding an uncertain future was favorable to continuing the past.
“Woohoo!” Luffy raised a fist in the air, exclaiming his excitement. “That’s one more crew member and one step closer to becoming King of the Pirates! Sanji, start cooking so we can celebrate!”
***
Sanji in fact, did not cook upon his captain’s request. Being stuck ashore, away from his kitchen and pantry, the chef had nothing to prepare. Instead, the crew had raided the hotel’s snack bar. A banquet of junk food now spread amongst them, half emptied wrappers and tins littered the hotel room as lively chatter filled the air. 
“And that’s how I took down a kidnapping ring using only a seashell, an empty book of matches, and my trusty slingshot!” Usopp struck a proud pose as his story concluded. The tale had been an obvious fabrication, but entertaining nonetheless. 
“Yeah, yeah.” Zoro dismissed the other man’s excitement, a sake bottle hovering just short of his lips. “You sure your name isn’t really Pinocchio? That nose is long enough for it.”
“What’s a Pinocchio?” Chopper - who Vera later discovered was not a tanuki but actually a reindeer, and the crew’s doctor - asked through a mouthful of cotton candy. 
“He’s calling Usopp a liar.” Robin answered the confused reindeer, her eyes obscured by a book recounting the island’s history.
“What? That story wasn’t true?” The doctor’s innocent eyes bore into his nakama, silently begging for the enrapturing tale he’d just heard to be true. 
A snort brought the group’s attention to their newest crewmate. Vera had been taking a drink, the adorable scene being so out of place amidst a group of criminals that she couldn’t help the laughter now flowing from her drenched lips.
“For you, mademoiselle.” A clean handkerchief was offered to the girl, deep blue orbs seeming to gaze into her soul. She’d come to learn much about the StrawHat Pirates in the few short hours she’d spent with them. For example, the kind chef she’d seemingly been rescued by was actually a chivalrous flirt who pushed the line between simp and pervert on a regular basis.
“Thanks, Sanji. But I got this.” With a wave of her hand, the liquid disappeared. 
“Woah! That was magic, yeah?” Franky, a large cyborg and the crew’s shipwright, pointed to Vera’s now dry form with a cola bottle. Upon receiving a nod, the blue-haired man continued. “What else can you do?”
Vera nervously rolled the hem of her apron between two fingers, looking down toward her lap. “Mostly just small spells like that. All I did was transport the water into a pocket dimension within the astral plane.”
“Is that where the book came from earlier?” 
The girl muttered a quiet affirmative to Sanji’s question, uncomfortable with the number of eyes focused on her.
“You can send things to and from the astral plane?! Just think what you could steal that way! All the berries we’d have!” Nami’s eyes shone with greed, already cooking up a plan and counting the riches it’d bring.
“Or the meat! You’d always have food whenever you wanted!” Luffy joined the navigator in her daydreaming, drool running from his mouth.
“I’d use it for sake!” Zoro joined in, his cheeks already flush from the aforementioned liquor . “Nothing better than a constant supply of good booze!”
“Could you use it to hide dirty magazines?”
“You can do it with books? I’d love to have access to my library wherever we go.”
“Or sweets!”
“What about cola? Barrels of cola!”
“Hey! She isn’t our personal storage!” Sanji cut in, bringing his fellow Strawhats down from their imaginings. 
“There’s a limit on how much I can transport.” Vera spoke softly, her companions barely able to hear the words as they came out. “The bigger something is, the more energy it takes to send or retrieve. And I only have so much energy to use before it gets dangerous.” Her eyes never rose as she informed the group of her limitations. “I can regain energy by eating or sleeping, but I can't really store large amounts.”
“Aww man!” Luffy fell onto his back, disappointment evident in his voice. “I really wanted that meat.”
“Could you not eat a huge meal and then transport something bigger?” Robin had closed her book and held a contemplative expression.
“How brilliant, Robin! Beauty and brains! What a blessing it is to be in the same crew as you!” Sanji held his hands tightly together as his eyes turned to hearts. He then turned to Vera, his enthusiasm unwavering. “And if it’s energy you need then I’ll make sure all your meals are packed full of nutrients! Of course I’d do that regardless. I’d never neglect a gorgeous lady’s nutrition! But I’ll put extra love and effort into yours!”
“Think of it like a glass of water.” Vera began, both surprised and silently delighted that someone actually cared to understand her powers. Before continuing, she held out a hand and whispered something unintelligible. An empty glass appeared which she placed on the ground.
“I’m the glass and my energy is the water.” She turned her palm downward, hovering above the cup’s open mouth. Liquid began to ooze from her skin, dripping down and landing within the vessel. “I can pour water in by sleeping or eating, but the cup stays the same size. So even if I sleep for a week or eat a twelve course meal, the amount of power I can store is limited.” 
At this point, the glass began to overflow. The liquid’s descent abruptly stopped and began flowing in reverse, disappearing upon its return to Vera’s palm. “Plus, I still need energy to live and do normal, non-magic stuff.” When the cup had emptied, cracks began to form along its walls. “So if I try to do something that uses too much power, I could end up hurting myself.”
The glass disappeared as well once Vera had finished her speech and demonstration. Her eyes grew wide and she began to stammer, blurting out a hasty adage. “B-but I wouldn’t mind transporting stuff for you guys! As long as it isn’t too big or anything.”
The witch raised her eyes to meet kind smiles. Nami spoke, her voice soft and genuine. “We get it. Just got a little excited there. But don’t worry. No one here would try to push you too far or force you to do anything.”
***
A bright sunrise glared over the island. Birds sung, nature’s symphony signaling a new day. Tree limbs and shingles littered the streets. The storm had raged through the night, only ending a few hours before dawn. Though damages were evident across the village, no buildings appeared to have suffered structurally.
Vera yawned, stretching her arms into the air. She stood on a balcony, breathing deeply and relishing the petrichor. Her eyes surveyed the island - her home for the better part of a decade - knowing this would be her last chance. 
“Coffee?” She turned to see a sleepy blonde chef, a mug of steaming liquid in each hand.
“Thank you, Sanji.” She took the drink happily, sniffing before taking a sip and humming her delight for the flavor.
The man smiled, coming to rest his elbows onto the railing beside her. “We’ll be leaving once everyone’s awake. Last chance to change your mind.”
Dark bangs tossed as Vera shook her head. “Not much to miss when it was never home to begin with.”
“Oh?” A swirly eyebrow raised. “And where is home?”
Vera turned away, her face hidden from the cook. “Far away. In both distance and time. What about you?”
Sanji took on a wistful expression, his gaze moving to the horizon. “I was born in the North Blue, but grew up in the East. Ever heard of a restaurant called Baratie?”
Memories flashed in the back of Vera’s mind. Cruel parental figures, a contract, and a boy from the North Blue. She shook the memories away, continuing the conversation with her new crewmate.
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spqcebunsforever · 8 months
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My favorite piece of art
Pairing: LA Sanji x Reader
Summary: Sanji decided to beg the crew to go to a very famous art gallery and him and y/n pair up to go look at all the beautiful art together.
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Sanji's Pov
After all the begging I had to do for a few weeks I finally got everyone to agree to visit this amazing island that was known for it's beautiful art gallery. I wouldn't say that I was a huge art fan but while I was working at the baratie I would always overhear people talking about how spectacular it was and how everyone should go visit the place at least once in their life so that's what we were doing.
Like I said it took a while to get everyone to agree but I made it very clear that I would not stop asking until they agreed. The only person who easily agreed was Y/n but of course, I knew she would because just like me she was a woman of culture she was actually a big reason why everyone decided to agree. I noticed the island and could feel myself getting excited I really wanted to know what the fuss was and if this place really was as amazing as everyone said it was.
After the three-minute walk to the gallery, we finally made it. The outside was beautiful it was white and gold it almost looked heavenly. Luffy immediately spotted that there was a restaurant inside so he pulled Usopp to go check it out with him. Nami and Zoro decided to go together so that left me and Y/n. "Well, it looks like your stuck with me my lady" I saw Y/n's cheeks turn pink a little as she rolled her eyes playfully "Come on let's go in before Luffy gets us kicked out for eating the whole restaurant".
When we entered it was amazing on every wall there was a piece of art and they all looked phenomenal. My eye then spotted a piece that was an oil painting of a man's face I didn't know why but it looked so cool with all the colors and shading that was in the piece I wondered how long it must have taken to get it perfect. While I was looking at the painting I heard Y/n giggling behind me so I turned around.
She had spotted a sculpture of a man and sadly there was no leaf hiding the man's privates causing Y/n to point and laugh. "Now please remind me how old you are because a woman your age really shouldn't be finding that as funny as you are". Y/n just caught up with me and softly nudged me "Oh come on Sanji just look at it you can't tell me you don't think it's funny looking". I just sighed linked our arms and started walking to the next room hoping there weren't any more naked sculptures.
The next few rooms hadn't been as great as the first sure the art was still good but they weren't making me want to stand and look at them for hours. However, I just found myself joking and laughing with Y/n for the life of her she couldn't stop making jokes about the artwork like how one of them looked like he was constipated. Even though her jokes were very silly and stupid I found myself almost crying with laughter I guess her laugh was contagious.
After a while, we got to the last room and I was kind of disappointed I had been really enjoying myself and Y/n just being together with no one else around to bug us. It made the whole experience way more fun. While we were walking about I noticed that Y/n had suddenly stopped I turned around to see what she was looking at.
She was looking at a painting of a lady she was wearing a red dress and her hair was flowing in the wind it looked magical but so did Y/n. Her eyes were shining looking up at the painting I saw how her whole body had relaxed and that the only thing she cared about at that moment was her and that painting. The light from outside was hitting her making her look like an angel an angel who had graced me by being in my presence. She slowly turned her head to look at me and gave me a soft smile "This woman is so pretty everything in this painting is so pretty I'm glad you made us come here Sanji".
I felt like I was in a trance my eyes didn't want to look anywhere if she wasn't in view. She walked back next to me and linked our arms again "You know I would love to be one of these ladies getting painted knowing that every day someone is looking at you thinking you are the most beautiful piece of art they have ever seen". Before thinking I gave her a small smile "Even if I was in a room full of paintings of the most beautiful women in the world my eyes would still only want to look at you mon amour.
Y/n stopped her face looking like a tomato. "Do you really mean that?" I nodded giving her hand a kiss "Y/n you are the most beautiful girl I have ever met". before I was able to close the gap between us we heard shouting and we both saw Luffy and Usopp getting chucked out while they had food stuffed into their faces. Nami and Zoro just calmly walked out behind them and I spotted Y/n sigh "See I told you they would get chucked out" Y/n then grabbed my hand "Now come on we can finish this conversation back on the boat". As she pulled me along I couldn't help the biggest and stupidest smile starting to form on my face.
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heartlurch · 9 months
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if u had to define it, what is it that u try most to bring out or represent in what u make, both aesthetically and narratively? I get a lot of the feeling if weird childhood feelings intersecting with like, adult feelings we don't quite understand yet- a kind of innocent puppy love that leads to a very sado-masochistic but equally innocent frame of mind. the idea that you want someone to be completely part of you, in every sense, in the most innocent- but not necessarily nice- way possible. like, when you're little, anything makes sense because nothing makes sense. (and also something something the inherent closeness of siblings...)
A real thinker. Hmm, how do I word this...
Aesthetically, I've always been drawn to 'cute' things. Little anime mascots, pretty creatures with bright eyes and long flowing hair. I'm inspired by things like Hamtaro, early Pokemon/Neopets design sense, a couple aspects of Digimon... My Little Pony! All things that have been dear to me since I was a lil kid. :3
I was also an edgy kid, though, so the kind of narratives I was inclined towards making were full of, er, murder, kidnapping, rape, slavery, cannibalism, torture... debauchery. Le weird age gap relationships, le interspecies, le forbidden love. (Funnily enough, I was late to the game with incest, it didn't really 'click' until I was about 17...) But yes, sado-maso, that was the core fixation. I wanted to see raw emotions! Misery! Scary situations! Dire romances!! And, I wanted all of these things to be inflicted to the pokemon, the my little ponies. I wanted to see those designs, that I was so attracted to, be put through this. Being honest, I don't think it was about contrasting something from my 'childhood' with something 'adult'... Well ah, real animals experience violence, death, rape, subjugation... *taps chin* I'm not sure if it feels like an 'adult' concept, because it's not as if it's exclusive to adults... Anything can experience intense circumstance, right? At that point, it's a matter of wanting to apply a sense of 'reality' to these creatures... Beyond that, it's also as simple as mashing up my favorite things together in a big pile. At that point, it's just incidental I wasn't like, idk, into detective dramas and putting the pokemon in that. (Not to nitpick too much... I'm just reflecting on my perspective. I'll circle back to this.)
Anyhoo... His little pea was thinking of such things at age like, 8, or something. Though I think I was closer to 11-13 when I was trying to actually write and draw these thoughts. None of this is so unique really; you can find tons of dA galleries from kids who want to see pikachu be fucked up and evil. As a result, I didn't feel like I was weird for what was doing, tbh. If anything, discovering fanfic dot net and dA made me feel validated — lots of people want to see this stuff! It was euphoric for a moment. Ah, so lots of people think like me... Cool!
I was mostly self-conscious at my own feeble skills. I'd have in my mind all these complex, winding narratives... Envisioning demon rituals where a kid needs to crush a live mouse between his teeth, swallow it whole, to complete it — but I couldn't remotely illustrate my thoughts. I'd barely be able to make some chicken scratch scribble of the design, and it'd be some feeble chibi lol. I felt a dissonance between my art and my desires. And it felt incompetent of me...
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(You wouldn't know this girlie is a despondent sex slave, would you-??)
How do I improve drawing things that are pretty, cute, and appealing to me... but also, how do I create atmosphere? How do I convey all they are going through? This is where it's difficult, because there's not much to teach you how to... draw your cutesy little critter, writhing in agony. Expressive faces and posing are such a hill to conquer. And then beyond that, I have to realize there's other art that inspires me... I really love moeblob anime girls! Frilly shoujo styles! Expressive toons and furries... The simplicity of something like Adventure Time. What do I take away from these things? How do I integrate them-? I was honestly so clueless about it for years. Kind of at a loss of how to convey everything.
By now, I realize I want things to be mm... fluid, fantastical, a bit boneless... But not TOO boneless, it needs to be! Grounded! It needs volume, weight, I don't want things to get too loose, too flat, too 'shapes'. There's a lot of beauty to organic form... Grit to the living body. I want to imbue my favorite designs with that! A mascot is often designed with no intention to see it twist, flex, roll around, writhe... I want to look at a design like pichu and give it muscle and organs. It has a skeletal structure! It breathes! It exists. With all the dreamy, unreal smoothness of a real mouse. :3
Beyond that, I had much to hone about what I value in narratives. Getting it down to a science... What do I really want? At first, I think I over-emphasized wanting 'bad things' to happen. Harm happened, but too much for the sake of it. There was not enough meaning behind it. What imbues it with meaning...? I've found that the answer is: characters being obsessively, madly in love. A love that consumes everything, a love that drives you to act in a way you can't understand. This is where you get into the 'want to be completely intertwined, want all of you, no matter what '. That mentality. The kidnapping should happen because of love! The cannibalism should happen because of love! The rape should happen because of love! Love, love, love. It's always out of love! Love is the only thing that matters.
As for your bit about "adult feelings we don't quite understand yet", I do ponder this sort of thing quite a lot. I feel like... a lot of your experience as a child is that people underestimate what you are capable of. It's kind of frustrating! You see how children are depicted in things... and it makes you feel microaggressed, almost, haha. I'm not so gormless... I have an inner world, I have desires. One can develop an arrogance about this even... I think kids are pretty arrogant, often. Since they know they're being underestimated?
But... you... don't know everything yet! You can be in over your head. That's the tricky thing; there's a lot you haven't experienced before and cannot put to words yet. There are feelings that you have, that you chase, but you don't even know why. Sometimes it's fully unconscious... or sometimes, you're half-aware of it, but you struggle to confront it. Maybe you'll let yourself 'get away' with what you're doing, by not looking at it head on... Ah, and then, I think about all the memories I have of being pointlessly scared or confused about something that was so simple in reality. There are so many anecdotes people share from childhood that I really dwell on. An innocuous post like this really sums up how you can have a very inexplicable but real fear, that gets overturned by something very arbitrary. DON'T YOU HAVE A 100 MEMORIES LIKE THIS...?? It's the comical aspect of it all.
I really like the respective 'flavors' of specific ages as well. So it's fun to get into the head of a 15 yo, a 13 yo, a 12 yo, a 9yo, a 6yo... And the intersection of different personalities and ages! What about a distinctly 'slow' or immature kid, paired with someone younger yet more mature? Or perfectly on their level? Or... [goes on and on...] How do they encourage one another, who instigates what, what do they incidentally stumble into? I love accidents. I love not planning to do something... not intending to do anything more than an innocuous game. Or a mish-mash of, one of you is more clueless, the other knows they're doing something underhanded... Indeed, it's not always nice. It's often selfish. Love makes you selfish, love makes you impulsive and reckless. But it also makes you covet, find things precious. You end up feeling protective, as much as you feel destructive. How contradictory it all is!! Hehe. As you can probably tell, by now, I could spend all day thinking about this stuff...
Now that I have my ultimate best friend forever and ever, my wifey, it's all I want to think about. :3 I feel like being with her specifically, is what helped me fully understand the appeal of sibling characters. I've kind of dabbled in it before but, it's really being with Avvy that makes me crave the fantasy of wanting to be born together, grow up together... Never be apart. We're inseparable and spend every second with one another, so it's very natural to translate our dynamic into something like the Yugi twins. How warm and cozy! Let's play forever!
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Bit of a tangent, but it's all relevant, I promise.
So hm... going over my art journey and all... As an adult, I've reached a point where I can reflect on everything I've been drawn to, and why, and I can understand what I want to make of it all. I felt more aimless before, and helpless about how to make everything harmonize. It all kind of felt like a big soup of disparate things I was trying to mash together, with mixed results. Now I feel more exact. And I can reflect on my own experiences and memories and use that to connect and explore characters. I like this... it's like my entire life becomes a reference point, something to pull from. A moment, a feeling, a tactile experience... It can be plucked and made into art. Which is lovely. At this point, it makes me a little excited when I experience stressful things, because it can be something I use later. Physical illness is fodder for a sickly character. When I'm bedridden and my wife is bringing me water, it's like some weird kinnie euphoria lol. My twin is here for meeee... kaff kaff
I keep trying to think of how to succinctly summarize this all... Maybe I can't. The last thing I want to say is I put a lot of reverence in my personal art, now. And I'm pretty severe about this, I don't want to draw something out of any other reason than adoration. It needs to matter to me. I have to love it. A lot of my old art is embarrassing, but as long as I was trying my best, it's not so bad. The stuff I truly hate was when I faffed off and drew some meaningless meme, just cuz my friends were doing it. And drawing things purposefully ugly. Making fun of my interests, out of shame, or something... I resent this. I won't ever do this again! If I draw Tsukasa... I need to make sure I'm conveying how I love him and how he is beautiful! At most, if I'm drawing something silly, it still needs to be cute. Appealing. A silly little comic. It's no fun of me, I know, but I hate meme-y art as a result. Useless to me. It's easy to be irreverent. Try praying to something next time you draw, if you want a challenge... *insane person voice*
Something something... oh, the reason I feel 'weird' and 'crazy' nowadays, is because I think a lot of people outgrow the edgelord, drawing pikachu crying blood phase. Or, it developed into something more... *squints* 'respectable'...? But I feel as though my raw desires haven't changed. If anything, I'm leaning into it allharder into it than I ever did when I was young.
I hope any of this was interesting. 🙇‍♀️
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the-hinky-panda · 1 year
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He want lipstick, lip gloss, hickeys too
Warning: Explicit (sexual situations) Also, there is one last part to this series.
He hates fancy events. He hates the snobbery, the trying to outdo the Jonese and not just keep up with them. The art gallery is made up of tiny rooms, people constantly bumping into each other. The air is heavy with expensive perfume and idle chatter. It’s claustrophobic. 
Terry recognizes a photo when he turns a corner. It’s a dynamic picture made to look black and white because of the early morning light. There are skeletal branches of the trees in one of the many parks in the Bronx that make a band across the picture. The sky is lightening slightly but the full moon appears in the top corner. The sun must have just broken the horizon because the wrought iron entrance gate to the park is a stunning gold color, the only splash of color in the photo. He finds the title of the piece on a small plague under the left corner. 
The Gate of Babylon. 
“Terry?” 
He wonders who said his name because it takes a moment to recognize you. Your hair is pulled back into a neat bun at the base of your neck, not a messy pile on top of your head held together with a pen. You’re in a 40’s style dress, a short sleeved buttoned bodice, wide belt around your waist, and a full skirt that hits you mid calf. He’s never seen you in a dress before. You’re also wearing makeup, cat-eye wings around your already large eyes, your lips painted a sinful red. 
He’s overcome with want. 
Ever since the diner, ever since he took a shot and reached for you, you have consistently reached back. Texts and phone calls at all hours of the day or night. Little knowing looks at crime scenes, a brush of hands here and there. Is it love? He doesn’t know. His heart is still too wounded to be able to answer that. But it’s something and judging from the nervous twist of your hands, you feel something too. 
He leans forward and you copy the movement so his lips are next to your ear. “Do you want to get out here?” 
“Yes,” your answer is immediate, confident. 
He takes your hand, your fingers slipping smoothly between his. “I’m getting really good at ducking out of these types of situations.” 
You smile, genuine and hopeful. “I’ll just follow you.” 
He winds through the building, through the different displays and exhibits, until he finds the back stairs. A quick climb up a few flights and he shoulders open the door to the roof. Cool night air hits him in the face and he breathes fully for the first time this evening. There’s a small rooftop patio: a settee and table, strings of lights that are turned off since clearly the party below wasn’t meant to spill up into this private area. You take a chair from a little bistro table and put it under the doorknob so no one will interrupt…whatever this happens to be. You don’t let him guess for long; you never do. Your arms twine around his neck, fingers sliding through his hair and gently encourage him to bend his head. 
You’re the first woman he’s kissed since Rose. That’s the reason why this kiss feels like a lightning bolt has been fired through him, or so he tells himself. His hands curl around your ribcage, his fingers fitting neatly into the dip of your spine. He likes the way you fit into his hands, warm and sweet. Your mouth opens to him and you taste of citrus and alcohol, a lemon drop martini. You pull back slightly and even in the dim light he can see the flush on your cheeks, your wide pupils, the rise and fall of your chest. 
“I’m really glad you showed up tonight.” 
Terry presses his forehead to yours. “Me too.” 
A smile, genuine and full of joy, breaks across your face. “I’ve been waiting to kiss you since that night in the diner.” 
That night had been over a month ago. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t wanted to kiss you that night too. Kiss you, hold you close, feel you move under him. You were the first woman that inspired these desires in the last year. No, year and half. God, has it been that long? Is it long enough? 
“Terry?” 
The nervous tremble in your voice pulls him back from the mental spiral. Now that his mind is back, his mouth is refusing to work and you misunderstand his silence. 
“I’m sorry,” you step back. “I’m so sorry, I completely misunderst-” 
His mouth slams down on yours as he drags you back towards him. It’s too much and not enough all at once. Your dress is covering too much of your body and the taste of your skin makes him forget where he is. The slender column of your neck, scented with lavender and thyme, bends perfectly against his mouth, vibrating with your moan. 
He maneuvers the two of you down onto the settee, him wedged in the corner of it, you straddling his lap. You fluff out the skirt, yanking the extra fabric out of the way so there’s minimal layers between you. His head hits the back of the couch when you grind down on his hard cock. 
“Fuck, Snaps!” 
Your still painted lips curve into a smile. “That’s the idea, Bruno.” 
You don’t look like you though. Your hair is too neat, the make up hiding the natural color of your skin. He reaches up and pulls the clip from your hair, letting it fall in cascades over your shoulders. That’s better. Next, he tries to swipe at the lipstick with the pad of his thumb but the bright red color stubbornly stays on. You take the opportunity though to draw his thumb into your mouth, your velvet tongue curling around his finger. 
“Sn-Snaps, babe, you gotta either slow down or speed up.” 
You release his thumb with a wet pop. Sweet Jesus. Speed up it is then. His hands reach for the buttons on the front of your dress. He wants to see you, as much as he can in the given circumstance of a rooftop quickie in the early morning hours. He manages to get the bodice of your dress unbuttoned and pushed down your arms, the floral fabric bunched around your waist, to reveal the pale green lace bra. The flush on your skin, across the swell of your breasts, contrasts with the  sage color of the lace. You look so soft and delicate. 
“God, you’re beautiful.” 
Your clever hands have already undone his belt and pause in their unzipping of his pants. Your head dips down and you scoff. “Terry, you don’t have to…” 
You really don’t know, do you? You have no concept of what you’ve done to him and over half the men on the force in the Bronx. In a world full of fake airs and plastic wear, your authenticity stands out like a shining beacon. The fact that you have an easy smile, sparkling eyes, and softest skin he’s ever felt is just a bonus. He wishes he had a bed to lay you out on and properly show you just how much he does have to. But maybe later you’ll let him show you how he sees you. Drag you out from behind the lens you hide behind so much and give you a clearer picture of the world around you, including how you fit into it. 
He pulls you back down to capture your mouth with his, tries to pour his thoughts and feelings into the kiss. He must be at least partially successful because you return the kiss, lips, tongue and teeth. Your spine bends, curling around him, your hair creating a curtain around both your faces. It brings back the intimacy of the moment, sealing you both off from the world around you, allowing you both to refocus. His hands trail down the slender slope of your neck and over the swell of your breasts. Your hands go immediately back to his zipper, pulling down the tab and reaching inside. The first brush of your hand rips a groan from his throat. It’s been so long, too long, since he’s done this. Which reminds him. 
“Wait, Snaps,” he reaches behind him and grabs his wallet, pulling out a condom. “Here.” 
You stand up quickly, reaching under your skirt and sliding your panties off while he rolls the condom on himself. He’s thankful for there being a barrier, hoping it’ll make him last longer than a riled up, horny teenager. You deserve better than that. You deserved better than a quick fuck on a rooftop too but before he can give that much more thought, you’re climbing back into his lap. Once again, you spread out the full skirt as you lower yourself down onto him. His fingers dig into your hips to keep you from moving. 
“Need a minute,” he pants. 
You press your forehead to his, the triple sec and lemon from your martini wafts across his face. “Feels so good, Terry.” 
“No shit.” 
And it does. Even through the condom, he can feel your tight, slick grip on him, and it’s perfect. You’re not too tight but tight enough for him to feel when you clench around him. Instead of rising up, you grind against him, and his vision almost blacks out. There’s something about not being able to see him disappearing into you, all he can do is feel it. Feel the circular motion of your hips, the rise of his own to get as deep as possible inside of you. There’s a beautiful blush that spreads across your lace covered breasts and up your neck, spilling across your cheeks. The red lipstain is finally coming off, the natural deep pink hue of your lips coming through again. Your pupils are blown wide and you’re the loveliest thing he’s seen in such a long time. 
Your fingers slide through his hair, trace over the sides of his face. There’s such tenderness in your touch and it forces him to swallow down the lump of emotion that rises up in his throat. This is more than just a quick fuck or two lonely people coming together to blow off steam. There’s emotion, desire, and want all behind the gentle touches. This is much more serious than what he originally believed. 
“Ter…please...” you whine prettily. 
“What do you need, babe?” He’ll give you anything, anything you want. 
Your lips ghost over his, featherlight in touch, as you grind down against him. “You.”
He buries his face against your neck and comes so hard he has to bite his tongue to keep quiet. He can feel you tremble as your own orgasm overtakes you, pulls you closer to him as the aftershocks of your pleasure dissipate. Your head rests on his shoulder, a short puff of air emitted from a laugh. 
“Fuck, that was amazing.” 
He laughs in response. “I concur.” 
You reluctantly remove yourself from him, taking your slip off and using it to clean the sticky mess on the inside of your thighs before sliding your underwear back on. You turn the fabric over to a clean section and offer it to him. He removes the condom and ties it off, cleaning himself off as well. You find a small trash can over by the door and he disposes of the condom. You fold up the slips and tuck it behind the wide belt to hide the soiled fabric. 
“So,” he starts to say, “do you want to go back down to the party?” 
You smile kindly, happily, your eyes glinting in the dim moonlight. “No, I’d rather stay here with you.” 
He is glad for the poor lighting now, to hide the flush of embarrassment that flashes across his face. He props himself again on the settee and you lay beside him, head on his chest and fingers tracing patterns on his shirt and hands. You both must doze off at some point because when he opens his eyes again, the sun is just starting to  peek between the skyscrapers of the New York skyline. 
He recognizes you in the light of the sunrise. Your hair loose and mussed, the lipstick kissed from your mouth finally, and the cotton fabric of your dress wrinkled. He recognizes you now and realizes with the dawning of the new day and the slow smile crossing your face as you look up at him, that he loves you and you may be so inclined to return those feelings.
So when he drops you off at your apartment that morning, he runs as fast as he can from yet another heartbreak. 
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therandomficwriter · 2 years
Text
Where Happiness Lies
Who: Fred Weasley
What: Fictober Day 24: “Is this safe?” Fred shows reader something from a different perspective.
Request: No just saw about Fictober 2022 and decided to give it a try!
Warnings: Fear of heights, mentions of falling, etc. (Please let me know if I missed anything!)
A/N: I just saw the post for Fictober and I really wanted to give it a try so I’m just gonna start from day 24! I’m really hoping this gets me back into writing again and more consistently at that! Anyways please enjoy this cute little story!
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The cool autumn breeze nipped at your skin during the early hours of the morning. The sun had yet to rise which left the sky in shades of deep purple and navy as the stars twinkled in the darkness. You stood next to the boy you loved quite unsure of your next move.
“Fred, is this safe?”
He chuckled at your reluctance, “Of course it is! Otherwise they wouldn’t let us use them during games!”
His eyes shined with amusement as he watched your figure. You on the other had questioned every choice you made that currently lead you to this moment.
"Are you sure about this?" you asked again, voice wavering with nerves.
"This is the only way I'll be able to show you, besides you know I would never let anything happen to you, right?"
"I trust you with my whole being." you replied earnestly as you smiled softly at him.
"Good, now come on!" he finished as he gently held your hand and lead you towards the broom.
He positioned himself above the broom before he reached out for your hand. You slotted your palm into his as he helped you onto the broom behind him.
As he found your other hand, he lightly placed your arms around his waist before he gripped the handle with both hands.
“You ready?” He questioned softly.
You nodded slightly, your head rested against his shoulder as you slowly tightened your hold on his waist.
“He we go!” He smirked.
He steadied you both before he pushed off the ground, as you quickly gained more distance from the floor. You let out a quiet shriek and tightened your grip upon his, your eyes shut hard.
You could hear the wind as it whipped past you the higher you went. The cool breeze instantly chilling you to the bone. The only thought that ran through your mind was keeping ahold of the boy in front of you, terrified of falling.
Soon the sounds of rushing wind slowed and you felt yourselves even out, but your eyes remained closed tight.
“You can open your eyes, love.” Fred said, a hint of amusement hidden in his tone.
“No, I think I’m perfectly fine like this.” You retort, afraid of the sight before you.
“Trust me, you’ll love it.”
The loving tone in his words immediately calmed you down as you remembered that this was Fred, the boy you trusted and loved with your whole heart. You quickly tried to even out your ragged breathing, preparing your nerves for the sight.
Slowly, you opened one eye to adjust it to the darkness before you then the other one. Your vision blurred for a second before it finally came to, and the sight before you was nothing like you had ever seen before.
The whole of the Hogwarts castle was presented in front of you, shining in the light of the the almost setting moon, the stars bright behind it. The sight alone took your breath away.
As if he could sense your awe, Fred quickly spoke up.
“Just wait, this isn’t even the best part.” You could just hear the grin in his voice.
Before you could question what he meant the sun started peaking above the horizon. Pink soon added to the color of the sky as it mixed with the hues of purple and blue. It was as if the sun was Picasso, painting the sky into a beautiful work of art.
Your eyes wandered from the clouds, the mountains shining from the rays of the sun peaking over. Then as if you remembered you eyes quickly glanced back towards the castle taking in the beautiful sight.
The light gleamed against the calm waters of the black lake making it appear as if the stars were shining once again. Then your eyes looked towards the castle breath caught in your throat.
Basking in the morning glow, the castle reflected the colors of the sky, pink and orange painted the walls. The morning dew added to the ethereal sight as it casted Hogwarts with a glittering appearance.
Your eyes were wide with wonder and delight at the new found perspective of the place where your fondest memories were made. Fred chuckled at you expression, glad to have shown you this.
“It doesn’t seem real, right? It really knocks the wind out of you but fills you with a sense happiness.” He let out softly.
You nodded in agreement.
He let out a shaky breath before he continued, “That’s how I feel every time I look at you. I just wanted you to know how I feel every time I see you.”
Tears quickly pooled into your eyes at the sentiments that left Fred’s mouth. You gently press a kiss you his cheek before speaking.
“That is the most beautiful thing I have ever head from someone. I love you with everything I have and more and I can assure you I feel exactly the same way about you.” You finished as you gave him a loving squeeze.
“Now, let’s head back down before we get in trouble.”
“If we get caught I’ll make sure to distract them so you can make your escape.” Fred said as he chuckled with mischief.
You let out a small laugh, “Wow, my knight in shining armor.”
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A/N: I’m sorry I’m posting this so late but I was hoping to have this out before midnight and unfortunately that didn’t happen. But hey, better late than never right? Either way I really hoped you all like it since this is my first time writing in forever! I will hopefully see y’all later today for day 25 of Fictober!
Taglist: @yinrose98 @proserpina-magnus
@twilight-whoree @drayshadow @wlfstxr @nikkitc0703 (The ones in red I couldn’t tag so if you changed you user and still want to be tagged for certain post please fill out another form or dm me with your name change. In other light please let me know if you wish to be removed from the taglists through the comments or dms, thank you!)
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