Wylan And The Other Crows

SO, MAFIA AU (AKA a good excuse to draw Yuri and Victor in a uniform/suit) Officer Katsuki and mafia boss Nikiforov! WILL DEF DRAW MORE OF THIS, I AM EXCITE NEXT

im trying this again, i hope the gofundme helps with visibility. please reblog, i dont have a large social circle to help signal boost. thank you so much everyone!

Hello luv 💞 so I was listening to Lover's Oath and I had a thought,,, what if Huxian/Fox God! Reader has been with Zhongli even before the war, they fought by his side and after the War they got together but reader hasn't shaken off from their mind Zhongli's look of anguish and loss when Guizhong died in his arms. Reader decides that it might be better if Guizhong was there instead of them, so reader finds someone who could bring her back,,, imagine theres a scene where Zhongli and Guizhong looks at each other through the crowd, not noticing that reader smiles bitterly within the crowd and heads home to pack and leave Liyue, reader still feels happy for both of them. BUTTTTT Zhongli really loves reader, not Guizhong, she really was just his close friend. Imagine how shocked he'd be when he comes home earlier to tell reader the news and he catches them in her big fox form with luggage in mouth, about to leave. I'm feeling an angst to fluff kind of story if you don't mind d request,,,

Who you pretend I am

(Zhongli x fellow god! gn! reader)

ANON U ARE SO BIG BRAINED <3 Your ideas... CHEFS KISS <3 I had to do a LOT of research on Chinese mythology and genshin lore cus...that hole is deep, but I hope I did your idea justice!! Im ngl i was tearing up writing this--- title was inspired by "Wahing machine heart" by Mitski because I started thinking about the lyrics a lot as I wrote this

Length: 6. 8 k

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

cw: mentions of violence and blood, character death (not reader) and self-deprecating feelings

It is said that long before the archon wars raged across the land - long before the god Morax became the revered Rex Lapis, even preceding the connection of the Lord of Geo and Ruler of Clouds, another soul resided beside the Geo archon.

A young adeptus was all Morax had been, a spirit guided by lust for glory and violence - brute force with no wit to match. That was what he had been when you first met him, teasing him playfully as you tricked the young god.

A dragon born of rock and a fox descending from the goddess who presides over life and death - an unlikely pair to say the least. You had laughed and teased the young Morax, whose anger created rifts in the newborn and smooth-faced earth as he chased your flickering form, morphing from shape to shape to confuse him further.

"Quit pestering me!" he'd snapped, his sharp talons digging into the ground as he glowered up at your form - stretched out on the branches above the tree he'd been resting under. You simply laughed - an enchanting sound magical enough to put anyone under its spell, you'd been told, and allowed your tail to flick his nose, a fond smirk upon your features.

"I'll stop once you prove you're no longer a child, Morax. It's simply so much fun to watch your childish tantrums," you teased, quickly moving your tail out of the way as he attempted to slash at it with his clawed hands.

And he did prove it - centuries passed, you teasing, but on many an occasion also aiding him - and he was to become known as the Lord of Geo. Your teasing slowly relented, becoming an occasional friendly jab that he had learned to deflect easily. The day had come, when you bowed to him, acknowledging his growth as a god.

That day, both sat under the forest that had bloomed around the lone tree you oh so long ago played under, he had asked you to become his right hand.

You stretched in the sun, your tails spread around you as you soaked in the warmth. With a teasing flick of a tail, you smirked. "I've always been that, Morax."

Battles were fought, lands created - all with you by his side. Serving as the brains to his brawn for the longest time. While his powers could shatter boulders and bones, yours could wreck minds and hearts - it was a successful conjoined effort of two spirits in separate forms that intertwined.

You had met Guizhong with Morax - the two of you wandering the fields when you came across the beautiful goddess. She introduced herself as Guizhong, the Ruler of Clouds, the Lord of Dust - and on the spot - amidst the beautiful wild glaze lilies, she gifted Morax a stone dumbbell she called Memory of Dust.

"I propose we form an allience, Morax, Lord of Geo," she spoke delicately, a smile upon her gentle features. "You are strong and powerful - and I am neither of those, but what I do excel in, is strategy." "You have a deal, Guizhong, Ruler of Clouds," Morax spoke with a smile of his own and you watched from the sidelines, eager and hopeful for a prosperous future for all three of you.

Later, that night, twirling a glaze lily in his hands - hands that destroyed so easily - he turned to you. "You approve of joining forces with Guizhong, don't you?"

You laughed, ruffling his hair with a clawed hand.

"You could use some brains to back up that empty head of yours - of course I approve!" You teased him playfully, and the gentle smile he sent your way warmed your old heart.

Soon enough, Morax and Guizhong enlisted the help of Marchosius, Patron God of the Soil and Stove - and Guili Assembly was forged from empty fields over the course of centuries, a flourishing nation in pursuit of knowledge. The four of you grew close - your love for the kind and gentle Guizhong becoming that of a sibling - she was the wise and balanced member of your group, always managing to bring about a calmness when turmoil threatened to arrive.

You watched happily, as Morax, a childish firecracker of a dragon once, matured more as a ruler - co-operating beside Guizhong in perfect harmony. The adepti that Morax had taken rule over answered to her every beck and call, and soon, your close friends became closer still without your presence.

It was bittersweet, watching Cloud Retainer, another old friend of yours, set up dinners for Guizhong, herself and Morax - it started off as a simple gesture of goodwill, but became a longstanding tradition you wished not to impede on. You were happy, of course, that the ones closest to you could find joy in each other's company - but still, a heart's a heavy burden that only grows heavier over time.

You laid upon a large bolder, your many tails keeping your figure warm in the cool night as you watched the skies above with Moon Carver for company. He was a gentle, nurturing presence on nights you felt most alone. Strumming your sharpened nails upon the bolder, your gaze slipped to the peaks of Mt. Aocang, upon which you could see the faintest glow of light. You sighed.

"You are unusually quiet upon this dark night. One is concerned over your wellbeing," he spoke, his bellowing voice steering your longing gaze from the peaks of the mountain. You smiled bitterly.

"I'm perfectly alright, Moon Carver, but I do appreciate the concern," you replied distantly, your thoughts drifting away with the gentle wind once more. With the softest of thuds and grace gifted to nimble foxes, you hopped off the boulder and stretched.

"I'm going to go get some rest, good night, old friend," you bid the adeptus farewell and he bowed his head in response, a knowing glint in his wise eyes.

Your wandering feet led you amidst the lands of Guili plains, taking in the sights before you shrouded in a veil of darkness. You sighed quietly as you took note of the large Ballista perched atop Mt. Tianheng. The most marvelous creation of your close companions Cloud Retainer and Guizhong. You climbed closer to it in silence and slid your fingers gently across the smooth wood it was constructed of.

You were happy to have such clever friends - truly. Friends whose wisdom did not rely upon trickery and metamorphosis as your did - friends who were of much use when it came to more strategic matters of battle. You placed your forehead against the wooden weaponry, having no fear it would attack you - it was constructed to protect the people, gods and adepti of the Guili Assembly after all. The cool wooden surface soothed a lingering ache within you.

Morax deserved companions such as the two masterminds behind the invention. He had grown much as a god, and you were certain, that with the help of Guizhong, he could grow more still.

The archon war was a cruel and unjust massacre - leaving gods of all status to fight tooth and nail for the seven seats reserved for those that Celestia deemed worthy. The soil of Teyvat was watered with blood of divine and mortal origin alike and no one was safe from the battlefields of the hunger for power.

Of course, you and the adepti, the Lord of Dust and God of Stove backed Morax in his conquest to secure one of those seats. Morax was an ancient being already compared to many of the gods that fought. Guizhong provided your troops with valuable strategies and you were quick to clutch the hilt of your blade in your clawed hands, baring your sharp teeth at your enemies as you charged into battle alongside your oldest living companion - Morax.

Yes. Blood flowed in rivers and no one could be safe from the paralyzing pain of loss, when it came to the gruesome battles you fought it, desperate to live - desperate to win.

"When I secure a seat amongst the seven - our people will thrive," Morax said with a stern expression set upon his stony face, facing you and Guizhong as he gripped his Vortex Vanquisher tightly, his tail moving swiftly from side to side.

Quizhong nodded slowly.

"We have no choice but to fight anyway - every being of higher status is out for blood," she agreed. You could not help but agree, despite knowing the needless blood that must be shed in your future endeavors.

Oh how you wished this cursed war had not taken place at all.

That you and your companions could have been spared of the pains of it.

"(Name), watch out!" you heard Morax' voice call out for you as you removed your blade from the slain body of a fellow god. You turned towards him swiftly, your ears pinned to your head. It all happened in a blur - a heavy claymore swung at you in the blink of an eye - ready to slash you open and drain you of life.

In that frightening moment, time itself seemed to slow down as your eyes locked onto the amber hue glowing in Morax's gaze, his face twisted in a desperate scream.

And then, you hit the ground.

But no pain penetrated your body other than the slight sting of your side making contact with the ground.

When your eyes darted to your right - that was when the pain arrived.

Excruciating, deep and unbearable pain, as you saw Guizhong bleeding out on the ground beside you, having taken the hit for you.

You could only watch in paralyzed sorrow as the enemy raised his weapon once more to descend it upon your fragile state - only to crumble to the ground as a spear shot through his heart with angry precision, dimming the life from his war-hungry gaze in a single moment.

You watched Morax's polearm clatter onto the earth, stained with blood as he surged forward, falling to his knees beside a bleeding Guizhong and swooping her weak, limp figure into his arms.

You felt wetness upon your cheeks, soon followed by your vision blurring as tears freely flowed from your eyes, crumbling any semblance of the façade of a strong warrior you had donned.

"Guizhong?" you heard Morax mutter in desperation as his attempted to stop the blood from oozing out of the wound in her torso, his hands glistening with a mix of hers and the enemy's blood. Weakly, you crawled towards them, your body shaking as you watched the two - grief wrapping you within its clutches as you saw Guizhong send Morax a weakened smile, her eyes slowly glazing over.

The skies wept in darkness along with you, glaze lilies stained in blood surrounding the three of you as a gentle breeze danced amongst them.

"It seems our journey together has come to an end, my friend," Guizhong whispered to Morax, her breathing getting slower as she gently patted his hand, the hand pressing down on her wound in an attempt to stop the flow of life oozing out of her.

She glanced at you with a sad smile - a smile of a loving friend, something so gentle and sweet.

"Morax," she turned to him again, and with trembling lips and shaking hands, his eyes met hers.

"Forget about the dumbbell," she told him. "No contract needs to mark our friendship," were her final words as her soul was swept away by the gentle breeze, carrying it to distant, hopefully kinder lands.

You could never forget the look upon Morax's face as his hand clutched the limp, gentle hand of Guizhong's body, a single tear rolling down his face as he shook with grief - a look of utter anguish and suffering that you had never seen him wear - not once in the long years you had known him for. A look of a grieving lover - pain of a love lost.

In anger, fuelled by grief, the war kept on - Morax mercilessly vanquished his enemies with a fury behind his actions - his pillars crushing and piercing all those that stood in his way. You fought by his side, quietly grieving alongside him - your only comfort being each other after battles were won and night had fallen.

"(Name)?" he approached your room in your temporary abode quietly, his expression exhausted and crestfallen as he stood in your doorway, all the anger from the battle fought gone, leaving behind only a desperate, grieving husk threatening to crumble before you like a pile of rocks. You surged forward, extending your hand to him quickly, your eyes wide. You'd never seen him like this before the death of your beloved friend, never seen him so out of it as he slowly took steps towards you and pulled you close, wrapping his strong arms, arms that had shed so much blood, around your figure, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

You shook as you returned the embrace, holding him tight in painful silence as the two of you mourned, the air heavy with an itching pain that refused to fade.

That had been the first time of many that Morax came to you in such a state, seeking out your comfort and allowing you to see him in such a vulnerable and broken state. You took him in each time, running your hands through his hair and gently stroking his horns as tears flowed down your face, shedding enough of them for the both of you.

You wept each night as you watched the wilting glaze lilies in your vase, recalling the tender gaze the two had been locked in before Guizhong's life drained away.

You wished it had been you, who had died. You - who the blow had been intended for, who had died.

The Guili Assembly crumbled - all the hard work you had strained to achieve - gone in the throes of cruel war. You watched Morax, his face set in a heavy expression, as he gathered up all that was left of the people of Guili, and began to guide them towards new land - new lands where they could prosper. You followed him, doing all you could to aid him.

The forest that once bloomed, the tree you had made your first pact under - it was all left in ashes and still-glowing embers of fire. Destroyed like all else the two of you had loved.

It had been many years since the death of Guizhong, and the war was nearing its bitter end. Morax claimed his throne as the Archon of Geo, rightfully so - but the pain never eased through all of it.

"(Name)," he whispered, his smouldering eyes staring into yours as you stood within the ashes of where he once asked you to become his right hand.

"(Name)...I must admit, my feelings for you go beyond friendship," he told you calmly, a tired look upon his beautiful face.

"We are entering a new era - an era of Archons, and I would be honored, if you'd grace me with the opportunity to enter it with you by my side. By my side as my companion, my right hand, my lover."

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you ran into his arms, burying your face in his neck as you nodded, unable to speak in the moment. You should have felt happy - overjoyed, even, that the millennia of pining was not unrequited, yet you could not help but feel like a traitor.

You felt it was Guizhong, who deserved to hold Morax in her loving embrace, whose lips sealed the contract of her love to the Archon - who stood beside him as his lover and advisor as he built up the nation of Liyue with calloused, tired hands. Hands so tired of the blood they had shed - eyes filled with grief and regret as he built upon the ruins of the war, watching people prosper and forget the suffering he had endured for them.

And yet - you loved him. Perhaps you were selfish, but you accepted his declaration of love for you and bound yourself to him even stronger than before, willing to be the pillar of support he needed when grief threatened to tear him down. Willing to replace Guizhong, to be what she had been destined for - your only hope being that you did not let Morax down.

Centuries and millennia passed, the war long ended and the seven seats claimed by the strongest survivors of its cruelty. Liyue - the nation Morax raised lovingly from the bloodied soils beneath it, had become the capital of trade and contracts.

Morax had become Rex Lapis. The God of War had grown to become that of contracts, and the world had healed itself, its wounds were still there, but scarred over - pain subduing over time.

"Look at you now," you let out a bittersweet laugh as you watched Morax sat at his desk, delved deep into his analysis of the commerce system, already preparing for the next year's Rite of Descension as the people of Liyue had come to call it. His yearly gift of knowledge for aiding them in conquering the world with the iron fist of trade.

He peeked up at you through his dark lashes, a tender warmth to his ochre-colored eyes.

"What do you mean?" he asked, a soft smile resting upon his lips as he stood from his seat.

"All sophisticated and wise now - I bet no one would believe me if I told them what a petulant child you once were," you teased, reaching out your hand gently, using your long nails to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Mm.." he grumbled, placing a gentle hand upon your waist and drawing you closer gently.

"And I bet no one would believe me either, were I to announce that the Qíngrén Rex Lapis holds so dear was an unrelenting bully in their youth," he replied, brushing his nose against yours in a gentle display of affection.

"I wouldn't be so sure," with a smirk, you tugged at his tie gently, loosening it from round his neck and snatching it away. You quickly twirled out of his grasp, holding the silky item up proudly.

"I'd say I'm still quite the unrelenting bully, my dear Morax."

He allowed a rare laugh to emerge from his chest, rumbling warmly as he watched you fondly, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps you're right, (Name)."

Sometimes, late into the night, you wandered the halls of your luxurious shared abode, recalling the events of times long gone. Your walls were decorated with many luxuries - far too many of them trophies of a war bathed in blood and grief. Still, there was always one item you would stand before in silent grief - tears long shed, but the pain still as piercing as the sharp edge of the Jade weapon.

You remembered when Morax sat up late into the night, carving away at it with a rare serene expression, shreds of jade coating his lap and the ground around him as he worked relentlessly on the creation.

"What are you working on?" you asked one such night, taking a seat beside him as you watched him with glowing eyes, watched the blade he was carving away at carefully and tenderly.

"A gift."

You raised your brows, a smirk upon your lips.

"Oh?"

"For Quizhong. The Primordial Jade Cutter - is what I'll name it."

You could not help but feel your ears droop at his words.

"I'm sure she'll love it once she receives it," you said with a longing smile, sliding your fingers against it's blade gently before rising to your feet and sauntering away, your tails flickering behind you in a forced display of pleased satisfaction.

You watched the gift left ungiven, encased in glass on display. You recalled when Morax, dripping with the anger of grief, picked up the newly finished sword and rushed into battle clutching it - cutting down countless enemies.

Despite that, the green glow it emitted was still that of a brand-new blade - truly a pure and beautiful blade carved with the utmost care and affection.

Some nights you were a bit more bitter over it - not once in the centuries you'd known Morax, not even the ones where you shared tender kisses and embraces, had he gifted anything like that to you - nothing carved with his own hands - once wrathful and brutal, forced to be gentle as they poured over a gift from the heart.

On those nights, you would slip out of your abode and wander the streets of Liyue, feeling weighed down with guilt for your selfish feelings. Every time, you managed to end up on Yuijing terrace, watching the glaze lilies growing within the carefully planned flowerbeds. They were no longer the wild lilies of Guizhong - the last of those had withered away long ago - but they were the closest to it. On those nights, you'd caress the petals with a somber expression, letting unvoiced apologies linger in your mind before returning back home, Morax seemingly none the wiser to your comings and goings, immersed in his work.

"Are you sure about this?" you asked somberly as you finished listening to Morax's plan of stepping down as an Archon. Giving up the seat that you had shed so much blood to attain. The seat that signified loss of a life too precious and gentle - whisked away by the wind in the form of the dust she presided over.

Morax nodded, squeezing your hands gently in his. His horns and tail long hidden as he assumed a more human form. Something you had followed him in doing, faithful to follow him wherever he led you.

"Then I will do my best to aid you, my dear."

And so you did. Your powers were those of shapeshifting, of morphing items into something anew and tricking others with the ease and grace of a leaping feline.

The Exuvia was more than convincing enough for the crowds below, and even you, despite being the one to conjure it up, could not help the tinge of fear within you as you watched this copy of your beloved plummet into the ground with an ungraceful thud. You hoped sincerely you would never have to see such a vision come to life in reality - you had long since set aside your weapons, but you would not hesitate to grab them again to protect the few loved ones you still had left.

Zhongli was now the name Morax donned - assuming the position of a consultant in the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, providing graceful and wise advice to all that required it. It was a fitting position, you bemused - a work surrounded by grief that the both of you still wore heavily upon your hearts.

Sometimes, you visited him to bring him lunch or anything else you thought he might require - like the dutiful spouse everyone assumed you to be. You supposed the word was not quite far from the truth, but your union was far more than that. Still, mortals could not comprehend the strength of such bonds, so you settled for a smile and a nod when asked if you were there to visit your husband.

On occasion, you could hear him tell customers the tales of the war, an expert storyteller as he was. Not once did he fail to mention the gentle and kind Guizhong, a far-off look in his eyes as he recalled her memory fondly.

It was moments like those that you felt the pain hit deepest. Moments when you wished that it had been you who had been struck down as fate had intended it to. Guizhong had meddled with fate, had brought eons of unhappiness and sorrow upon you and Zhongli.

You wondered, sometimes, when Zhongli brushed his lips against yours tenderly, his eyes closed and his hands gently cupping your face, if he thought so too. If he wished, on nights alone as he allowed the bitter memories to wash over him, that your lifeline had been severed that fateful day.

Of course, you knew he would never admit to such thoughts, he wouldn't even admit them to himself, you were sure - but a mind could still wonder. Especially when he stood before the Jade blade encased in glass, a distant look upon his features.

It hurt.

And you felt selfish for hurting, when it had been your own carelessness that had brought this pain upon you and Zhongli both.

You could no longer stand it. No longer stand the wistful gaze in Zhongli's eyes as he spoke of Guizhong to the Traveler, as he recalled the times he dined with her and Cloud Retainer and as he praised the memory of her wits and the gentleness of her pure soul.

You decided you would do anything to right the wrong you had been living within for far too long.

You turned to research, to prayers dedicated to Celestia - to anything that might help you achieve your goal of bringing back the dear friend you had allowed to wither away and flow away as nothing more than particles of dust.

Countless days, weeks, months passed - and if Zhongli noticed the distance you put between the two of you, he failed to mention it. Perhaps he even enjoyed the space you finally gave him. After all, it had been you who had refused to leave him be since the beginning of time.

Perhaps if you had not stuck to his side like an incessant thorn, Guizhong would be by his side, holding his hand and bathing in his kisses.

Your efforts did not go to waste. You stood upon the empty Guili plains, the moon above lighting the ruins of what once was a great civilization. Your hands were clasped together in prayer as you sank to your knees, allowing the coolness of the ground to seep into your bones as you pleaded quietly for reprieve.

Celestia finally answered your call, sending down an envoy cloaked in shimmering stardust - radiating with energy far more divine than that of your own.

"Little fox," the envoy spoke, their voice light but holding the weight of knowledge and power within it.

"Your pleas have not gone unheard and what you ask is not impossible to achieve," they spoke and you stared up at them in awe, feeling a flicker of hope within your chest.

"Quizhong has rested long enough in the embrace of Celestia - and we are sure she would not mind returning home."

You felt as though you could float, a happiness coated in pain washing over you.

"But tell me, little fox - do you believe truly that you are undeserving of your lot in life?"

You blinked away tears and nodded.

"You are foolish, little fox - but your wish will be granted. Celestia simply hopes you will overcome your blindness and learn to see the truth of your worth."

You cared not for the meaning behind those words - all that mattered was that Guizhong would make her return. You swallowed bitter, selfish tears as you already pictured your beloved in the arms of another - the one he deserved to have. The one you had forced him to say goodbye to.

The sun beamed down upon the harbor with a happiness and warmth that you had not felt in far too long. You browsed the marketplace in silence, maneuvering the crowds as you gathered ingredients for the dinner you had planned that very evening. It had been a while since your talk with the envoy of Celestia - but you knew better than to doubt the promises of those above you, so you were patiently biding your time until the return of your beloved friend.

You hummed a gentle tune to yourself, idly wondering what Zhongli was doing - was he still busy with work, or was he ready to take a lunch break? You thought it best to buy him a little meal and began to wade through the busy streets to approach the funeral parlor, only to be stopped in your tracks as you saw a familiar face within the sea of people.

A beautiful face, with eyes wise beyond the years of its apparent youth, flowing long hair set into a beautifully simple updo and an an air of elegance that could only belong to one. You stared in awe at her beauty - the glaze lilies set into her hair and crowning her in angelic glory as she almost seemed to float through the crowds - they're all but the clouds she ruled over wisely as she studied her surroundings with a curious joy.

You felt tears of joy well up in your eyes as you saw her.

Celestia had granted your wish.

You wished to dash through the crowds, to run into her arms and shower her in endless apologies and affection - but when you searched the ever flowing sea of people, your eyes froze on another familiar figure.

Dark hair set in a low ponytail - perfectly ironed coat and an air of impeccable neatness and perfection coating him. You saw him - saw as his eyes locked with those of the beautiful goddess. You saw the way a warm recognition washed over his stony face - his lips forming a wide smile upon his face as he surged forward.

You tried to suppress the selfish sadness brimming in your heart and eyes, the tears gently rolling down your cheeks as you saw two friends united at last - arms wrapping around each other in a tender embrace.

You knew very well when you were not needed - so you turned quietly and headed back towards your abode, a firm yet difficult decision made in your mind.

You had pretended to be someone you were not for far too long - it was time you made yourself scarce. You ignored the concerned glances of the citizens you passed as you walked - more like staggered - towards the place you had called home for a long time. Of course people would talk, would gossip about the spouse of the beloved Zhongli's spouse walking home in tears before shortly disappearing from Liyue, leaving behind a smitten consultant and a new companion of his.

You simply hoped they'd be kind to Guizhong. Humans were far too simple at times.

Zhongli rushed towards the abode he shared with his beloved carelessly, an uncharacteristic joy to his movements as he waded through people, eager to share the wonderful news with them.

He had ran into Guizhong's arms, her soothing aura washing over him as he simply asked her how. She had known no more than him - only that Celestia had deemed her worthy of returning to the lands of the living.

He cared not for the specifics - one of the closest friends he had had was back - and he could not wait to share the news. He had made her wait for him - him and (Name) at Third-Round Knockout, promising her that they could all once again share a meal together as friends and companions.

"Have you finally made your move, Morax?" Guizhong asked, a sly smile upon her innocent features.

He chuckled.

"I suppose I have."

"Good. I feared you'd be too much of a coward too, Lord of Geo."

When he arrived to his abode it was quiet - eerily so. No aroma of simmering food lingered in the air, and there was a strange emptiness in the rooms as he wandered in, a few objects missing here and there.

A quiet dread arose in his chest.

"(Name)?" he called out, his brows furrowed as he felt a surge of panic within him - a panic he had only felt once before, when his beloved was to be slashed by a long gone god aiming to end their life.

There was no answer.

He rushed through the rooms of his luxurious abode, cold sweat forming upon his body as he reached their shared bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and he could hear a faint muffled sniffle coming from within.

Slowly, he pushed the door open, stepping into the room.

You had taken on your animal form, tails curled around yourself protectively and your ears pinned back in a display of sadness - the air heavy with emotions he had not seen or felt you experience in eons - your home usually filled with gentle harmony.

He swallowed heavily as he saw the bag before you, filled with the few items you cared for - to take with you as a shard of memories to remind you of the years you had spent with Zhongli - with Morax. A last act of selfishness you allowed yourself.

"(Name)?" he quietly addressed you, his voice strained as he watched what was you undoubtedly preparing to leave - without a word to him, no less.

You whipped around, your eyes wide as you met his.

"Zhongli," you whispered shakily, ashamed to be caught in the act.

"Where are you going..?" he questioned, his eyes glued to your belongings and eyes filled with an unfamiliar desperation.

"I don't know, yet," you answered, lowering your gaze to the wooden floor below your paws.

He approached gently, crouching before you as he reached out his hand to stroke your face.

"Why?" his voice was small, desparate.

He had only just regained a companion - only to lose his lover the very next moment? Was the world truly that unjust?

"I didn't want to be in the way of you and Guizhong," you replied, looking away with a bitter tinge of sadness to your voice.

"You know she's back?"

"I was the one who demanded Celestia return her to you."

He stared at you in both shock and awe.

"What do you mean you didn't want to be in the way?" he asked slowly, feeling dread rise within his chest once more as his voice cracked.

Without fanfare, you assumed your more human form once more, your eyes watering and clumping together your wet lashes, blurring your vision as you tried to find the words to explain your feelings - feelings buried under centuries, wars and carefully constructed facades - all crumbling before the man you had always loved.

"I...saw how you looked at her - back then I mean." More tears rolled across your face as the dam finally broke.

Stupid, treacherous, selfish tears.

He was eerily quiet as he watched you crumble before him, you who had always kept his spirits high when he was in pain, always knew what to say or do to soothe him. However, he realized in a horrifying moment - he had no idea what to say to you.

"You loved her. And it was my fault she died," you hiccupped, letting go of any pride you may have held.

Your teary eyes met his - scared and filled with emotion you could not quite decipher.

"(Name)-"

You shook your head, forcing yourself to smile bitterly - it was a pathetic sight and you were well aware of it, but you could do little else to reign in the pain.

"I was supposed to die that day - and I would have gladly done so. I always wished I did - and I know you would never admit it, but you did too."

His hands clutched your shoulders suddenly, shaking as he gripped them tight.

"(Name) - that's not true," he spoke sternly, choosing to ignore the way his own voice wavered.

You let out a sound - a mix between a sob and a laugh as you stared into his eyes.

"Don't lie to me, Morax. I've known you longer than anyone - you should not attempt to deceive the god of trickery." You inhaled and exhaled shakily.

"I never deserved your affection - I was selfish in accepting it. I knew you wanted me to be her - you've never looked at anyone else like you looked at her. But I was selfish, and I was hurting too. I'm sorry for using you like that."

His brows furrowed as the weight of your words hit him - crashing into him like the boulders he had used to destroy his enemies with a fierce anger.

"It's you who has tricked yourself, (Name)." His gloved hand stroked your face gently, wiping at the streams of tears flowing across it aimlessly as he stared into your eyes.

"I've never loved Guizhong," he muttered, placing his forehead against yours as his mind frantically searched for the right words to say - the words that could soothe the pain of the burden you had been carrying in your heart for far too long.

"Not more than a close friend."

You stared into his eyes, sniffling.

"But..."

"Have you really been blind to the way my heart beats only for you - after the thousands of years we have known you?" He pulled you close, burying your face in his clothed chest, ignoring the way your tears soaked through the pristine cloth of his suit and shirt.

"I..."

"Guizhong was the one who had to listen to my incessant ramblings about how beautiful and wonderful you were, the one who kept trying to make me tell you. But I was foolish and stubborn. It took her death to make me realize that within a bling of an eye - I could lose you too. I almost did - that day," his words conveyed more emotion than you had heard him do in all the time you had known him. He had buried it deep down, hoping he could show them, instead - but he had failed in that, as well.

He buried his face in your hair, taking in a shaky breath and inhaling your scent - you, who smelled like home. Like comfort, like love.

You were in stunned silence.

Had you really been blind to the truth all this time? You who had prided yourself in seeing past facades and being able to deceive anyone at will. Had you willingly deceived yourself, hiding the truth?

"But she's a far better match for you than I could ever hope to be," you whispered, your voice muffled by his chest. You felt him tense.

He pulled away, cupping your face with a desperation you had only seen once before.

"You are a fool, (Name), if you think anyone would be a better match for me than you," he sighed, wishing he could simply bare his heart and show you all that he felt in his old, guarded heart.

"I strived to become stronger for you. I learned to reign in my temper, for you. Everything I did - I hoped it would impress you - from the very moment we met."

In that moment, with those words pouring from his lips, he was a young adeptus once more, chasing the fleeting and teasing attention of a fox god who called him immature.

You stretched out your hand towards his face hesitantly, resting your warm palm upon his cheek. He pressed it against your hand, an earnest youthful glow in his old, wise eyes.

"I love you, and only you, (Name). And I always have, you silly fox."

You released another choked laugh infused with a whimper, sniffling as you attempted to control the stupid tears flowing from your eyes.

"Morax... I feel so foolish, now," you whispered, a sniffle caught in your throat as you lowered your head, hand slipping from his face into your lap.

"I'm the fool for not realizing how you felt sooner. All this time, you'd been thinking lowly of yourself - and I never even took note." He sighed and pressed your figure closer to himself.

"I suppose we're both a couple of old, bitter fools, then."

He huffed in amusement, tickling the strands of your hair in doing so.

"I suppose we are," he sighed, pressing a gentle kiss upon your forehead when your face emerged from his face to look up at him, eyes still red and puffy.

You closed your eyes, allowing them reprieve from the crying. You felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you as Zhongli leaned down to capture your lips with his own, his touch ever so gentle as he stroked your face, wiping away the last remains of tears still lingering upon your face.

"I love you," you whispered as you opened your eyes.

He smiled at you - a smile he had never before allowed another but you to witness - sweet, vulnerable and full of thousands of years of adoration.

"I love you too, my dear."

This one was really fun to write! I read SO much genshin lore for this and I feel like I def missed some things, but I tried my best. Relationships are complicated, man. And writing this made me Feel Things. I hope you guys enjoy this one, though!!

HI! Hope you are well! I have no clue if you are taking requests or not, but if you are, could you maybe do a smau with carlos sainz x ferrari!reader? Where the reader is part of the ferrari family, and when her father passes away, she will take on the company? And like, all of the tifosi love her loads, bcs she's just lovely to them all no matter what, and they see carlos slowly 'fall in love' with her then soft launch their relationship, and it turns out they had been dating for ages? If you can, ty!!

are you going to be my girl? | carlos sainz social media au

pairing: carlos sainz x ferrari!reader

it's not a HR violation if you were dating before she became your boss and it's not nepotism if it's her company.

yournameferrari

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 872,309 others

yournameferrari: first race weekend, let's go girls 🏁

view all comments

user1: i am SCARED i am weirdly optimistic 🤔

user2: i have faith, the article about her and the whole new team... she's cooking

carlossainz55: excited to take her out for a spin

yournameferrari: lets keep all the spinning for the doughnuts at the end of the season please

carlossainz55: i'll try my best, no promises though

yournameferrari: okay stop commenting on my post and get ready to drive, you're wearing my name

carlossainz55: let me know when you want to wear mine

user3: yall it's not even been one race and carlos is flirting with his boss, they weren't lying f1 drivers really are fearless

sebastianvettel: feels like just the other day when you first visted the garage, you'll smash it!

yournameferrari: thanks seb! can't wait to see you again, give hanna and the kids my love

user4: i love that she's 23 but literally talks like a grandma

user5: the stress of ferrari does tend to age a person

charles_leclerc: forza ferrari ❤️ we'll make you proud

yournameferrari: i have all the faith in the world in you boys

user6: a ferarri owner who actually publicly supports the drivers? i've prayed for times like this

user7: ahhh i met her this weekend and she really loves the tifosi like she spent so long with us and signed as much as she could

carlossainz55

liked by yournameferrari, landonorris and 893,209 others

carlossainz55: great weekend all round, happy to be back on the podium - thank you to y/n and all the team for building us a car we can win in !!

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user9: don't shoot me but did we all see the way carlos was looking at y/n on the podium

user10: bestie i hate to tell you but there was like 100 ferrari workers at that podium he could've been looking at literally any of them

yournameferrari: you boys made the ferrari name proud this weekend ❤️

carlossainz55: couldn't have done it without you and the team

yournameferrari: you're too kind, take pride in your own achievements

carlossainz55: only if you celebrate with me

user11: are we witnessing the smooth operator in real time?

user12: it's like seeing a unicorn in the woods

landonorris: congrats chilli 🌶️ are we all celebrating or is it just you two?

carlossainz55: all of us? why wouldn't it be everyone?

landonorris: no reason ....

user13: maybe it's because carlos' eyes pop out of his head like a looney tunes whenever he's around y/n ferrari

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc

carlossainz55: you realise i get the notifications when you guys like comments, right?

landonorris: well my PR team wouldn't like it if i commented it myself

carlossainz55: i wonder if there is a reason for that 🤔

user14: carlando domestics in the comment section we are so back

scuderiaferrari

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 803,451 others

tagged: yournameferrari

scuderiaferrari: no race this weekend? we'll give you a #️⃣ asky/n to give you your ferrari content this weekend!

view all comments

user15: what is your favourite race?

yournameferrari: besides the obvious choices of imola and monza, i really enjoy suzuka and spa !

user16: who is a driver you would've loved to have managed?

yournameferrari: the obvious answer is michael schumacher, but i also would've loved to work with seb and kimi and jean alesi!

user17: how do you feel about taking over ferrari so young?

yournameferrari: it's definitely daunting, especially when no one really knew i existed. i was scared when it came to the staff overhaul as they had been there for so long and i was scared that it would massively backfire, but so far so good.

user18: tbf it's been a long time coming

user19: what would you do if you weren't owning ferrari?

yournameferrari: to be honest, ferrari and motorsport is all i have ever known, but, i also enjoy most other sports like football, ice skating and golf. but outside of sport i would've loved to pursue writing, i love poetry and essays!

user20: GOLF? cue carlos sainz in 3...2...1

carlossainz55: let's go for a round after my next sim session ⛳️

yournameferrari: only if you're ready to lose

user21: i am having ... feelings about this pairing

user22: how do you feel about charles' music?

yournameferrari: i always think it is good to have another passion, especially with how all-consuming formula one can become. i personally love charles' music and will often put it on when i do yoga or read (though my favourite is AUS23)

charles_leclerc: thank you y/n !!!

user23: is this *rubs eyes* an owner with a good relationship with the drivers???

f1gossipgirl

liked by user28, user29 and 4,130 others

tagged: yournameferrari, pierregasly

f1gossipgirl: AWKWARD MOMENT ALERT 🚨 y/n ferrari had harsh word for pierre gasly when they crossed paths in the paddock. gasly, whose dangerous driving put carlos sainz in the medical centre, seemed shocked that ferrari would have a problem with him. sources in the paddock said that ferrari admonished the frenchman, "you have a lot of gall in the media gasly, everyone saw how dangerous that was, you can't blame your own shortcomings on alpha tauri or adrian newey now. keep your car away from my drivers or we'll have a real problem." oop. allegedly gasly only replied with a wink and a "anything for you sweetheart" which caused y/n to storm off and knock his shoulder on the way past. who is in the right?

view all comments

user30: THAT'S MY OWNER RIGHT THERE

user31: y/n owned gasly

user32: not only was he dangerous on track he's also super disrespectful off, y/n is expressing her concerns over her driver who could've been seriously injured and he just flirts with her ???

user33: pierre is super in the wrong here but also it's so refreshing to see someone in management actually have the drivers back

user34: gone were the days of begging ferrari to even appeal penalties

user35: my friend was in the paddock and apparently vasseur had to hold sainz back after he was told about what pierre had done

user36: the way he's more mad that pierre disrespected y/n than nearly killing him

user37: idk why she's getting involved, no need to talk to the drivers like that, you're the owner, know your place

liked by pierregasly

user38: something insidious about the man liking a comment telling a woman to know her place 🤨

user39: he acts the victim in every situation and yet HE is the common denominator

user40: after ^^^ this whole mess i need carlos to scrap pierre

user41: i feel like he actually would that man is in love with y/n lol

yournameferrari

liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari and 903,451 others

yournameferrari: happy summer break everyone !! going into the break leading the constructor's championship lead is amazing but we aim to finish the season with both trophies back in maranello. see you in zandvoort x

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user42: A MAN?

user43: i was delusional to think that a young successful and smart woman wasn't cuffed :(

sebastianvettel: are you still planning to swing by switzerland?

yournameferrari: we'll be there!

this comment was deleted

yournameferrari: i'll be there!

user44: girl we saw that

user45: the way she posts her soft launch but deletes a comment that says she might bring him to visit seb?

user46: visiting seb is a big deal tbf

user47: the way carlos HAS to have her notifications on mans was here after 30 seconds

user48: has better reaction time for y/n's instagram post than a race start 😭

carlossainz55: working on my swing, ready for our round of golf

yournameferrari: get ready to be humbled

carlossainz55: if you're as pro as you say i may have to upgrade us to crazy golf

yournameferrari: as long as i get the red ball

carlossainz55: deal

user49: are we FLIRTING 👀 ???????

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, yournameferrari and 703,458 others

tagged: yournameferrari

carlossainz55: took a break from swimming to get my ass whooped by my boss on the golf course

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user50: oh the fit - Y/N CAME TO PLAY

landonorris: just how bad was the whopping? before i propose a paddock golf tournament

carlossainz55: she'll ruin the sport for you it's not fair

landonorris: you didn't put up any sort of fight?

carlossainz55: i TRIED but as soon as i saw the custom clubs i knew it was over

yournameferrari: i have a confession, i was literally on my college golf team, i had a lot of practice sorry x

carlossainz55: so you're basically a professional? that's comforting

yournameferrari: not really a professional but a very dedicated amateur

user51: babe you literally won the national championship at stanford stop playing with this man

yournameferrari: oops? 😬

user52: right, i don't mean to sound crazy, but i have a theory. the third pic looks very familiar to me, is it a lake in switzerland? the switzerland one SEBASTIAN VETTEL lives in and that y/n ferrari said she was going to visit this summer with someone?

user53: i fear you've made a point

user54: as much as they'd be literally the hottest couple in the world ... is it not a bit weird for carlos to date his boss? like... also what does this mean for potential favouritism?

user55: i get those concerns but we've already seen this season that decisions have been made both ways. unlike the binotto era ferrari actually are making the two first drivers thing work

user56: based on what y/n has said in the past i don't think she'd favour carlos because of a relationship, i think she's too ruthless to potentially sacrifice points to benefit her potential boyfriend

f1

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 1,239,861 others

tagged: carlossainz55

f1: the smooth operator is back to winning ways with his win under the singapore lights. it was a double podium for ferrari and a DNF for sergio perez means that ferrari are constructors champions once again!

view all comments

user60: Y/N FERRARI THE WOMAN YOU ARE AND HOLY SHIT HER AND CARLOS KISSING DID SOMETHING TO ME

user61: we really went from xavi and not having any tyres to proper professionals and the WCC trust the WDC will be coming back home soon

carlossainz55: tifosi, we'll get the big one next year ❤️

user62: CONSTRUCTOR CHAMPIONS AND YOU BAGGED Y/N FERRARI U WON AT LIFE

landonorris: so you made me find out with everyone else? i see how it is

carlossainz55: sorry landito, didn't intend for anyone to find out just yet but i guess i got a little carried away..

yournameferrari: a little?

carlossainz55: sorry but i've been good all year and finally got the win and the championship i couldn't help myself (you also looked so good sorry)

yournameferrari: i guess i can give you that (you're also very sexy post-race)

charles_leclerc: well i for one am super happy that i never opened the door when i heard a suspicious sound coming from y/n's office

yournameferrari: omg delete please i stubbed my toe i swear !!!!

charles_leclerc: no one is believing that i'm sorry

carlossainz55: we've never done anything untoward on ferrari property

landonorris: untoward? who are you?

carlossainz55: my gf is super duper college educated and it's rubbing off on me

landonorris: AHAHAHA RUBBING OFF

yournameferrari: 🤨

landonorris: sorry.

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, yournameferrari and 1,034,510 others

tagged: yournameferrari

carlossainz55: suprise ! i guess it wasn't to be just ours forever, but i love you y/n and will give everything to you and your name x

view all comments

user62: boyfriend in the first slide and girlfriend in the others he's so real

yournameferrari: i know this secret was hard for you to keep so i'm proud of you regardless, i love you 🫶

carlossainz55: honestly any time anyone in the paddock flirted with you i thought i would explode

yournameferrari: i've seen your dm requests, spare me

carlossainz55: but now they know, i can unleash all of my pictures of you and i can flex on everyone

user63: dream threesome list just got a new update

landonorris: first slide for me i know that's right

carlossainz55: i am forgiven for not telling you about my relationship? the two years were tough

landonorris: TWO YEARS?

carlossainz55: your tone sounds kinda off

landonorris: you can shove your first slide up your ass 👍 TWO YEARS?????

carlossainz55: tbf i couldn't really announce to the world that i was dating the woman who would someday become the owner of my team

landonorris: give me three business days and i'll be okay

scuderiaferrari: parents ❤️

charles_leclerc: happy for you guys but never ask me to take pictures of you again x

yournameferrari: you did such a good job though!

charles_leclerc: unless i see a photographer bonus in my contract i will not be third wheeling for free

yournameferrari: noted (you're not getting the bonus)

charles_leclerc: it was worth the try

yournameferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 1,035,556 others

tagged: carlossainz55

yournameferrari: what a crazy first season. i am unbelievably proud of the boys and the team, we'll bring both championships back to maranello next season ❤️

view all comments

user64: she is everything i want to be

user65: tbf after last season i never thought we would win a race this season and her overhaul and ruthlessness has actually changed the game. also her and carlos are super cute

carlossainz55: i love you and thank you for our season. here's to the best winter break with you

yournameferrari: finally you can spend christmas the ferrari way

user66: how do we also get an invite to this christmas.. do you have any brothers? cousins? uncles?

carlossainz55: you're so so so beautiful, pretty, bewitching, ravishing, stunning and irresistible

yournameferrari: i love you too handsome

carlossainz55: can you also humble my dad at golf please and thank you

yournameferrari: we'll go doubles for the sainz golf tournament and have NO MERCY

user67: someone tell y/n the season is over and that she doesn't need to ruin sainz snr's christmas on the golf course

yournameferrari: the ferrari name never rests sorry not sorry

user68: yeah yeah the constructor championship finally came back to ferrari but this relationship is the real win from this season

user69: carlos finally found someone as old money as him

user70: and is actually old money, babes has that ferrari money

carlossainz55: i can retire early and be the house husband

yournameferrari: you will not retire early i expect you to be kicking it in that car until you're at least alonso's age

carlossainz55: but after that i can be the house husband a HAB?

yournameferrari: to your hearts content :) no one prettier i'd want on my arm x

note: hope you enjoyed i was BATTLING the writers block on this one lol. but i hope this is what you were looking for

Close to you

(Gangster! Yoongi x Goodgirl! Reader) (Rags to Riches Au) 

Summary: Nobody likes Yoongi, not your older brother or your friends. But with him, you feel more protected than possessed. And though he might be a gangster and more than a little dangerous himself- that makes all the difference. From drug dealer to producer, from rags to riches, you’re Yoongi’s person- his muse- his soulmate.

Tags: good girl x bad boy au, blood, drugs, Yoongi with tattoo’s, references to making good ol’ sweet love, Rags to riches! au, brief mentions of drunk sex, Yoongi is soft and squishy and just loves the reader a lot.

A/n: This is more a story than a fic- with a little bit of an open ending to it- legit when I was editing this it tripled in length. 

W/c: 9.8k

Song rec: Lover by Taylor Swift 

You and Yoongi play basketball together, late at night in the park near your college. You don’t know how you started meeting up, but now you do nearly every day. You gather with the others at the edge of the court when the street lights turn on. Maybe it’s just to let off some steam from your busy college schedules, less than ideal lives, or just plain because you like the game. 

It’s a mish-mash of different people from different backgrounds, misfits and goody-two-shoes alike, pros and newbies at different skill levels, but everyone is pretty good. 

The games are never serious and no one really ever keeps score. The teams change depending on who tells what joke who gives what jibe. Lines are drawn in the minutes before you start, sides taken based off inside jokes and playful feuds. 

One night when a regular named Wonho wears a crop top and calls it ‘fashion’- teams are drawn based on who thinks it’s ridiculous or not. (You and Yoongi are on the same team that night- because of course boys should be allowed to wear crop tops).

You’re always the last two to leave the court at night, sometimes just before the lights shut off at midnight, sometimes you have to hop the fence if the security guard has already come around to lock up. You joke that he might have a vendetta against your group- you always say until the very last moment the court closes and he grumbles about leaving early. 

And on the nights where strangers lean in- when the streets don’t feel so safe and shadowy figures that seem recognizable at a distance linger longer than they should. When there’s another stabbing or a rumor of a girl getting taken off the street, Yoongi is the first to ask if you want him to walk you home.

You try reserving your impression until you know him better. But the tattoos on his arms and on his chest, peaking out over the low collar of his tanktops lead you to make conclusions that you’re not proud of. 

Your first interactions with him are brief at best and you know just from how he looks that you should be careful around him. The others might play at being rugged and dangerous but Yoongi doesn’t have to pretend. 

You realize this when he stats to walk you home. No one messes with him, the other gangbangers on the street don’t catcall you when yoongi walks you home. Shop keepers seem to Nodd at him if they feel brave and close their doors the second they see him if they don’t. 

Yoongi seems pretty abnormal for a typical gangbanger, He doesn’t fit the trigger happy sadistic stereotype that the media paints others of his ilk in. 

When he first asks to walk you home, You blush and let him because Yoongi is cute, charming even, and he’s nice company, even if he does look a little threatening sometimes. 

You wouldn’t let him walk you home for any other reason then just…needing the safety he provides, not at first, not when your overprotective older brother doesn’t let you date at all. You have a dating ban until you graduate college and as long as you sleep under his Roof. 

He’d even tried to squash your interest in the pick-up basketball games when you first started going- but you needed an outlet, justified it by saying you weren’t apart of any sports teams and needed to exercise. it isn’t safe on the streets so late at night, he says (and he’s not wrong- it isn’t.) he tries to get you to stay home each night or tries to guilt you into only playing on the weekends during the daytime.

But try as you might, every time he says it isn’t safe or brings up a carefully worded story by the news on the infestation of gangs in the city, you can’t help but picture Yoongi’s face. And maybe it isn’t safe for everyone. but the way he looks at you- guarded but curious and with a hint of mirth over the edge of a ball during a pass, makes you think that it’s safe for you. 

You weren’t exactly sheltered here, in your nice apartment on the edge of where town turns from seedy to bougie. You straddle the edge of gentrification Unable to fit in perfectly with either side. You’ve already had to move your apartment twice since you moved in with him after rent hikes and new policies made your past apartments just too expensive. 

The first time your brother catches sight of Yoongi, on the stoop of your apartment building just as your brother gets home from work- perfectly mistimed, he goes apeshit when he realizes that Yoongi’s just dropped you off. Your older brother takes one look at him and says that you shouldn’t date gangsters- that Yoongi will just bring your trouble one day. 

“Jesus Christ- he was just walking me home it’s not like it’s a big deal” and you remind him that you’re not dating- that you’re just friends and Yoongi is just being nice- and that your brother should be glad you have friends that want you to get home safe. 

He tries to keep you from going out the next night and threatens you with few words not to keep seeing him. You’re late to the game because of it sucking off your pink sweatshirt and growling out that you need to work off some steam. “join my team” Yoongi says, making the others pause with a wave of his hands. 

 They reach for water bottles while you get your shoes on, Yoongi tucks the ball under his arm and stands while you finish lacing up your shoes. “you good?” he asks, “yeah just my brother being a dick and making me late.” 

You know he says it’s all for you so that you’ll do well and school and get a good job later in life and have it easy, unlike either or your parents. but sometimes it feels like he just wants to control you needlessly. Yoongi nods and you see something- the mention of older brothers darken his gaze, you wonder why.  “He pitch a fit after he saw me last night?”

 “Oh you know it,” you say with false positivity. “But don’t worry you can still like- walk me home if you want, I liked talking to you yesterday,” you say, Shooting him a smile that makes his cheeks turn a little pink, he clears his throat “if it makes you feel safer of course” He reassures, ever the gentleman, and goes to shoot some free throws while you finish getting settled. 

The blush doesn’t fall really, especially when you meet his eyes over a pass a few seconds into the pell-mell start of the game. And you start to think that Yoongi with  his tattoo’s and his roguish exterior might be the perfect amount of rebellion to get out from underneath your brother’s thumb

Of course, Yoongi ends up being a lot more than that. 

Keep reading

always thinking about nick robles version of Jason Todd

"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.

Shinsou x Reader Masterlist

Seprate post here with all my Shinsou x Reader scenarios and headcanons to help condense my main Masterlist

Shinsou

Shinsou receiving Valentines/general gifts from s/o

First date headcanons

Shinsou is validated by his crush

Shinsou with a gf who will THROW DOWN if anyone talks shit

Shinsou with s/o who has nightmares

Shinsou with crush who gets jealous of other girls pt. 1

Shinsou with crush who gets jealous pt. 2

Shinsou comes home wanting to be held

Shinsou gets jealous then braids reader’s hair

His s/o comes to him for comfort after a bad day

Shinsou x manga artist reader who meets at cat cafe

Wears couples costume for Halloween

Shinsou x reader soulmate fairy AU

Shinsou comforting reader whose parents are divorcing

Shinsou w/ s/o who cuts her hair short

Shinsou meets Vigilante! Reader

S/O is targeted because of their powerful quirk

Shinsou finds out his male! s/o is a merman

Shinsou with s/o who has emotion powered quirk

His s/o shows him their quirk for the first time - they turn into a monster

His crush is sad/depressed and he comforts them

Shinsou sits next to Cat Club in a Cat Cafe

Shinsou w/ nonbinary reader who gets dumped

Shinsou with newly open transmale s/o

“Regardless of what they think, I know you’re an amazing person.” with Shinsou

meeting mr. mistletoe

→ Pairing: Namjoon x Female Reader

→ Summary: When your company hosts its annual gift exchange, you don’t expect to receive anything since you’re the one setting it up. But the holiday magic works its way back around to you, giving you not only a Secret Santa of your own, but a Santa who’s also your Secret Admirer. Even though this person has you totally flattered, you’re nervous about learning who he is at the annual Holiday Santa Soirée. You weren’t ever one to approve of office romances, and you still aren’t exactly sure how to navigate this, especially when you uncover who Mr. Mistletoe really is.

→ Genres: Fluff | Romance | Humor

→ AU: CEO x Secretary | Idiots to Lovers | Christmas/Holiday-themed

→ Word Count: 16.2k

→ Rating: pg-13

→ Warnings: mentions of alcohol & alcohol consumption

→ Other: A big thank you to Maggie @kimtaehyunq for making this banner ages ago and letting me reuse it again!! This a repost of my old fic titled the same thing! I hope you like this updated version and give it the same amount of love, oh and happy early holidays!!

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still working on requests but i suddenly remembered that this post exists and immediately wanted needed to write touch-starved astarion. hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did!

a fervor, a sweet (astarion x gender neutral!reader, baldur’s gate 3)

As thrilled as he is to be free of Cazador’s control, Astarion could do without the constant need for blood.

Deer and boar just aren’t cutting it these days, not when he’s expected to fight goblins or harpies or whatever other damnable creature whose midsts you keep gallivanting into. 

Which is why he’s using all of his roguish tricks to approach your sleeping form without notice, intent on nicking a few mouthfuls from your throat before you wake. Nothing outlandish - just a little nibble, enough to keep him going. Keep him strong. 

Of course you wake just as he’s kneeling down with fangs bared. Of course. Astarion is quick to explain himself, wary of a stake through the ribs, but you’re surprisingly amenable to having a vampire in your midsts. 

You’re surprisingly amenable to many things, actually, including offering him the blood he so desperately needs. 

Are you that trusting, he wonders. Or that naive? 

Either way, Astarion has learned never to look a gift horse in the mouth. He urges you to get comfortable and then dives into his first real meal in centuries, nearly sighing as the sweetness of your blood spills over his tongue.

It’s splendid, the taste of your blood thick in the back of his throat. He’s never tasted anything like it, never felt anything like it, the sheer rapturous joy of giving his body what it needs, and to have your blood be offered so willingly only seems to add to the euphoria of the experience. Gods, but he could spend ages buried in your throat.

He’s lost in a pleasurable half-state, numb to everything but your blood coating his tongue, and so he almost doesn’t notice your arm rising, not until your hand has settled on the back of his head. Disappointment curdles in his gut; you’re about to push him away and that, as they say, will be that. Ah well. It had been generous enough of you to offer this much. 

But you don’t push him off. Your fingers are moving, yes, but not in an attempt to dislodge him. You’re simply… touching him. Pushing wayward curls into place, trying to tame his hair into some semblance of order, no small feat considering how mussed it’s become from his journey through the nautiloid ship and days in the wilderness with you and the motley crew you’ve gathered. 

You’re careful about it, gentle. Astarion - well, he doesn’t quite know what to do in response. Even the sweetness of your blood fails to distract from the soft sensation of your fingers carding through his curls. 

Even as they slow to a stop atop the crown of his head, Astarion can do little but stare blankly at the skin of your throat, nearly forgetting to swallow his mouthful. And then you pat his head, your palm gentle to avoid mussing up the job you’d just completed on his hair, and Astarion is so surprised he lets go immediately. 

“Ah, that will be all, I think,” he murmurs, unable to discern if the warmth in his chest is from the meal he’d just indulged in or the way your fingers had felt combing through his curls. Either way, it would be a good idea to leave, now, lest he do something foolish.

He feels your eyes on his back as he walks - walks, not runs - away. He feels them for even longer after that, a gentle weight across his shoulders that fails to dissipate even as he gorges himself on boar and deer in the dark of the night.  

*

The camp is awash in celebration - Halsin has been rescued, the Druid ritual halted, and the goblin scourge destroyed. Merriment flows in the form of drink and song, and everywhere Astarion looks there is joy to be found on faces both familiar and not. 

He searches for you, certain that this night will allow him the perfect opportunity to strengthen your bond. You’re already charmed by him - but then, who wouldn’t be, with all of his talents? - and a night together would serve to secure his place by your side, secure his safety. His freedom.

He’s stopped multiple times by inebriated tieflings, all eager to give him thanks for his part in the goblin massacre. One pushes a bottle of too-sharp smelling wine into his arms, and bereft of any other choice, Astarion accepts the bounty with a pasted-on smile.

Surely you’re the one they should be fawning over, he thinks, taking a pull of the wine and grimacing at its taste. It should be you in the midst of this celebration, being plied with trinkets and tasteless wine and heralded as the hero you are.

And yet - 

“You do realize you’re the guest of honor, don’t you?” he questions, unable to contain the curl of his lips when you shoot him a startled glance. Apparently you hadn’t expected anyone to find you in this little hidey hole, tucked behind an outcropping of rock with the newest acquisition to your group nestled against your knee. The owlbear has its head resting on your thigh, cooing gently as your fingers stroke along its crown. 

“Are they asking for me?” Your voice is hushed, the faintest hint of a slur to your words, and Astarion huffs a laugh. He wasn’t the only recipient of subpar wine, it seems. 

“Not yet.” He approaches you and your little shadow, grateful that the owlbear cub seems more preoccupied with your fingers than turning those sharp claws onto him. “But they’ll come calling eventually. Why are you hiding?”

“I’m not!” you insist, though your words lack much conviction. “I’m simply - recovering. From the wine.”

Astarion smirks, taking a seat beside you. “From the adoration, you mean.”

You huff a breath, your fingers scratching lightly between the owlbear’s ears. “That, too,” you admit quietly. 

“The life of a hero not quite what you expected?” You’d taken to it like you were born to do so, never failing to offer your aid to any poor soul in need. Yet the grimace that twists your lips speaks of a keen dissatisfaction with the moniker. Interesting. 

“I’m not a hero - “ you start, only to falter at the placid look Astarion gives you. You huff out a breath. “Just because I enjoy helping people doesn’t mean I’m entirely comfortable with all the fanfare that comes with it.”

“Understandable.” Astarion leans back on his palms, idly listening to the tiefling bard’s song as it filters through camp. “Surprising, but understandable.”

Your brows climb. “Why is that surprising?” 

“Oh, come now,” he teases. “Isn’t half the fun of playing hero the praise and accolades that come after?”

You shake your head, a soft laugh bubbling from within your throat. It’s a pleasant sound. “I’d rather be giving the praise than receiving it,” you confess. The owlbear chirps as though in agreement and you take to cupping its plump cheeks in your palms, an affectionate glint in your eye. “Yes, you understand, don’t you, my brave little one?” Your fingers scritch gently through the owlbear’s feathers and the creature purrs, a rumble that Astarion can nearly feel in the soles of his feet.

You shoot a triumphant glance his way. “See? Much better.”

“Well, as long as you’re doling out praise,” he murmurs expectantly, some small part of him wondering why in the hells he’d decided to say such a thing and swiftly laying the blame for his loosened tongue on the awful wine. 

A look of surprise passes over your face before it’s swiftly replaced by an expression that Astarion can only define as fond. He should be thrilled about that - he’d set out to charm you to his side during your first meeting, after all, and here before him was the proof that his machinations were working. He waits for the satisfaction to spill through his veins, the joy of a job well done, but instead all he truly feels is… warmth. 

Warmth and the callused pads of your fingertips settling gently against his cheeks. He blinks in surprise at the unexpected touch, mutely staring as your eyes track his face and your lips tilt into a soft smile.

“You were very brave, too, Astarion,” you croon, in much the same tone as the words you’d cooed to the owlbear, and despite himself, Astarion feels a hot flush work its way down his chest. 

“Really now, darling,” he begins, adopting a lofty tone to distract from the shock of his own body’s reaction to your words. 

“Fierce as well,” you continue undeterred. “Cunning and swift. Utterly brilliant.” Your palms gently squeeze at his cheeks in much the same way you had just been handling the owlbear. That bit should offend him, probably - he isn’t some beast to be swayed by pretty words - but the expression on your face serves to soothe his ego well enough.

You’ve a mind for deception when the situation calls for it, but the wine and general merriment of the evening seem to have stripped you of all but sheer sincerity. You mean what you say. 

“Well, I - “ Astarion struggles for words - a first for him, in all truth. Perhaps the wine has addled his mind, too, for the only thought he seems capable of is how nice it might feel to slump against your hold, allowing you to be all that holds him aloft in the world. 

The owlbear trills between you, the call enough to distract you. Your hands slip from Astarion’s face and for reasons he chooses not to study too closely, it takes a valiant effort for the vampire not to snatch them back up again. 

That, he reasons, is his cue to leave, and with a swift farewell and a promise not to rat out your hiding place to the rest of the revelers, he goes. 

It doesn’t strike Astarion until he’s back within the safety of his own tent that his plans for the evening - to seduce you into his bed and bolster your growing bond - had been completely waylaid. He should be furious with himself, and he waits for the bitter sting of disappointment to settle on his tongue - 

But it doesn’t.

Strange.

*

Camp is mostly silent when Astarion returns from his late night feeding, though you appear to still be awake, nestled on a log by the fire and staring silently into the depths of the flames. 

He debates bypassing you entirely but that feels too much like retreating. The night of the tiefling’s celebration remains fresh in his mind, his body’s increasingly confusing reactions to your touch stalling his feet, but Astarion is no coward. 

In truth, you look so lost in thought that he could have passed you completely uncontested, and he might have tried his luck, if only he weren’t so sure that he himself was the source of your turmoil. 

The Gur hunter had been a nasty little surprise. Astarion had given little thought to the possibility of Cazador sending someone after him, or perhaps he’d always known it was an inevitability and merely elected not to give credence to the thought. A folly on his part, to be sure. He would have to be much more vigilant in future.

“Don’t tell me you were waiting up for me,” he quips, taking no small amount of pleasure in your startled expression as he settles onto the log beside you. 

You open your mouth - perhaps to deny his accusation - but seem to sense the futility of such a claim. 

“We can’t be certain that Gandrel was working alone,” you say, turning your gaze once more to the flames. “I felt better, waiting.”

“Ah,” Astarion murmurs. You were concerned for him, then. He’d known as much - even after dispatching of the hunter and facing down the hag afterward, you had refused to rest until the party was well beyond the borders of the swamp. A blessing, really, considering the stench of the place, but even Lae’zel and Wyll had raised a brow at your haste. 

Silence falls between you for a moment, slightly awkward but also strangely comfortable, heavy with words unsaid. You look fit to bursting, however; Astarion can feel your gaze darting to him when you feel he isn’t aware, and he resists the urge to smile. He has centuries on you - he can be patient. 

“Your arm?” There it is, your voice deceptively light when you finally speak.

Astarion huffs. Was that what had worried you so?

“It was only a flesh wound, pet.” The Gur’s arrow had sliced a furrow into his forearm, leaving behind a stinging, bloody mess, but it was nothing a few mouthfuls of blood couldn’t fix. 

You nod jerkily, brows furrowing. “I know,” you mutter, though you don’t sound entirely convinced.

Astarion sighs, though even he can hear the fond exasperation in it. “See for yourself,” he says, holding his bare arm out for your perusal.

The skin is pale, unmarred, as though the wound had never been inflicted at all. He expects the silent look of awe that passes over your face; he even expects the relief, though the vulnerability of the expression - the proof that you’ve grown to care for him - is enough to make him second guess his earlier decision to approach you.

He’s not expecting your fingers, roughened at the tips with calluses from wielding your weapon, to wrap gingerly around his arm.

Astarion goes still, watching as you study the offending limb with far more intensity than it deserves. Your nails drag lightly over the stretch of skin where the arrow had struck, leaving a tingling sensation behind in their wake. 

He’s rocketed back to the night you’d first offered your blood to him, to the moment during the tiefling’s celebration when you’d gathered his face in your hands and touted him brave. He’s freshly fed and pleasantly full, but the warmth in his belly has little to do with blood.

It’s you.

It’s you and this damnable urge you seem to have to touch him - his hair, his face, his body, all seemingly without thought, without sexual intent, without cruelty.

When had such a touch ever been bestowed upon him? Before his death, certainly. Before Cazador. 

The thought roars through him like a wailing beast. 

Why are you doing this? Why do you care?

Why does Astarion never want you to stop?

“I’m glad there was no lasting damage,” you murmur, your hands curled loosely around his arm. You’ve no intention of letting him go anytime soon, it seems, but that’s alright. That lost, fretful look has vanished from your face, leaving behind sweet relief and a small, lopsided smile.

Astarion wants to taste it, to feel the texture and give of your mouth against his. Not to manipulate, not to coax you into bed, but simply because he wants to.

Gods above, he actually wants.

*

He carries the feeling, for a time. 

The want, the need. The ache.

It builds and it builds, a sweet desperation that he’s never quite felt before, until eventually even Astarion’s centuries-born patience runs reed thin. 

The Elfsong Tavern comes as a welcome respite after spending weeks in the wilderness. The entire upper floor is yours, and even Lae’zel seems more approachable after a few nights spent in the comfort of a real bed - much as she may hiss when Astarion tells her so.

A confrontation with Cazador lies just around the corner, a looming threat that hangs over all of your heads. You’re strong - stronger than Astarion had ever thought possible - but there’s a very real chance that none of you will see the light of day again after you breach his stronghold.  

If this is to be his last night on earth, Astarion reasons as he comes to a halt outside your door and raises a hand to rap at the wood, then he’ll be damned if he spends it without the comfort of your touch. 

You call for him to enter, and at his first glance of you, his resolve firms. You’ve discarded your armor, clad in loose clothing that makes you look soft, open. 

The urge to tease, to pester and charm disappears. Astarion climbs atop your bed, settles himself at your side, and for the first time in recent memory, asks for something he actually wants.

“Touch me?” 

Your brows jump, mouth parting on a slow, sharp breath. You set aside the tome you’d been reading, eyes searching his own. He half-expects you to question him, to gently urge him from your room. 

But you don’t.

Your palms are warm against his jaw, your touch tentative, exploratory, until Astarion sighs and sinks against you. 

You murmur his name, your voice soft, full of surprise, of wonder. 

“Please,” he whispers, and you laugh, a soft, shaky thing, disbelieving, awestruck. Fond. 

You thumb at his cheekbone, drag your nails along his jaw, trace the bow of his lips until he’s gasping for breath, a fire sparking in his blood. Your fingers shift gently through his hair, and then firm within his curls whenever he releases a low, trembling moan. 

Each touch you bestow upon him is a solar flare, blinding, brilliant, hot: your hands stroking over the crown of his head, dragging through the short curls at his nape, scratching lightly over his throat, his shoulders, his waist. 

His chin falls to your shoulder as your palms spread out along his back, dragging a trail of fire down the length of his spine. He presses his lips against your throat and bites out your name, warm and wanting, and you croon against his ear, nonsense words interspersed with his name. The scent of your own desire, your skin, your need is a heady concoction, making his head spin and his fangs ache. Thoughts of the parasite, the Absolute, Cazador - they all fade to the back of his mind, unimportant, insignificant to the heat of your hands upon his skin.

“Don’t stop.” It’s a desperate order, his voice gravel, his blood afire. His buries his hands beneath your tunic, feels your body shake as tremulously as his own, and knows in that moment that he could never let you go. 

“I won’t.” Your voice is a balm, a declaration, a vow. You press your lips to his brow and say it again, the cadence of the words sinking deep, taking hold, stronger than Cazador’s cruelty and the parasite’s hunger and everything else that you’ve yet to face. 

It should be terrifying - it is terrifying, but Astarion has long grown accustomed to fear.

He'll welcome this one with open arms.