People That Like To Write Miguel O'hara Please Read This.

People that like to write Miguel O'hara please read this.

As a Spanish girl from Spain who loves to read Miguel O'hara fics, headcanons, oneshots... You name it. I am willing to help with Spanish translations if you want. MY DMS ARE ALWAYS OPEN

While I am willing to correct you in your comments in the nicest way possible, please consider that I will be crying while my eyes bleed for basic grammatical mistakes and you're wanted for war crimes against Spain.

At least in Twitter it was like this 💀

Thank you for reading.

Sobbing 😭

Dragonfly

zhongli/f.reader

genre: morax/zhongi, immortal!cursed!reader, miko/shrinemaiden!reader, angst, hurt/comfort(?), slow burn, reunion, traveler is NOT y/n, implied xiao/traveler,

warning(s)!!: mentions of: death/repetitive deaths, war, past suicides, the suffering of immortality in a mortal body, for the sake of this fic dragonflies are semi-common in teyvat/liyue lol, xiao considers zhongli/reader parental figures, things will definitely not follow canon timelines, Xiao is a frequent/important character, characters may be ooc (im sorry)

w.count: 15.6k (i am so sorry)

SYNOPSIS: fate and time are cruel kings ruling over even gods. morax is no exception. the only human he ever fell in love with was twisted by fate to battle him in a brewing war. the image of the burning temple that she resided in rested behind his eyelids and not a day goes by that he does not still mourn and yearn. time had cruelly taken you away from him. or... had it?

“Hello Traveler!” The soft yet chipper voice of the ever-pranking funeral director calls out from behind the blond Outworlder. The day in Liyue was still young and bright as the umber-clad young lady walks up to both them and Paimon who had floated herself bouncily from the Traveler’s right shoulder to the left. 

“Oh,” Paimon begrudgingly acknowledges, form bobbing in the air comfortably. “It's Hu Tao.” 

“Paimon,” Traveler scolds, crossing their arms over their chest. Paimon just sighs as the blond looks to the funeral director who had come close enough for conversion and unfolds their arms, bringing them down to their sides relaxingly. “Good to see you, Hu Tao,” they greet with a small nod.

“Indeed,” Hu Tao nods back, closing her eyes briefly in glee before reopening them. “It is lovely to see you. Are you here to visit Liyue? Or, perhaps another pressing matter brought you back to this nation once again.” 

“It’s nothing drastic,” Traveler dismisses. “We just.... had some time on our hands. So, we’re just visiting.” Partially, that was the truth. However, the full truth was that there was most definitely something the pair could be doing instead of wandering around Liyue. But it was important to take time for yourself sometimes, right? 

“Well, feel free to stop by the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor if you’re interested! I’d be happy to host the both of you for a meal.” 

“You mean, Zhongli would host us?” Paimon quips up knowing that, as Hu Tao’s consultant, Zhongli’s job descriptions can vary in terms of tasks. However, when Paimon spoke Hu Tao lifted her arms up towards herself. One wrapped around her chest and rested the elbow of her other, resting her curled fingers against her chin in thought. 

“Perhaps, not this time. Zhongli has had something on his mind these days.” The woman brought her curled hand and arms back down, now gesturing them softly in front of her as she spoke more. “It would feel distasteful to ask him to host guests at the moment.” 

The mention of Zhongli being mentally occupied made the Traveler and Paimon look at each other. They were privy to a lot of information the consultant kept tucked away from public knowledge- for good reason. The staged death of Morax for one. Although Hu Tao had once speculated that Zhongli could possibly be an Adeptus, she surely didn’t know that she wasn’t exactly far off from a bullseye. 

Still, the fact that Zhongli, the former Lord of Geo, was distracted so much that Hu Tao had essentially dismissed him of some of his duties was a concerning thought. He never seemed the type to dwell so much on something that it obstructed his work.

“I’ve tried asking him about it before,” Hu Tao continues, “since he gets like this around the same time every year. All he’s ever spoken to me about it is that someone he knew from his past had died around this time. It felt… wrong to pry into his past more for some reason.” It wasn’t an odd statement coming from her. She often took her work very seriously, even if she herself was a spitfire of a young lady. 

“Someone from his past died?” Paimon asked, already knowing about his past with the Adepti and The Seven. Perhaps, it had something to do with them? Either way, the concern was planted in the Traveler’s chest, so it felt only natural to find the ex-Archon and try and get some answers out of him. Maybe, since the pair had already known about his identity it would be easier to talk about. Or, that was the hope at least. 

Hu Tao and the Traveler spoke briefly for a moment longer with the usual snarky comment from Paimon before going their separate ways. Hu Tao had apparently been on her way out to fulfil a clients few specific requests and her stop for a chat was pushing to make her behind on her work. Paimon didn’t mind if she went on her way sooner rather than later, the dealing with the dead had always been creepy to the floating companion. 

Regardless, Hu Tao was a nice lady. Traveler would make sure to stop by and see her more, maybe indulge her hobby of poetry a bit. 

The two had walked around the busy streets of Liyue for a while trying to find Zhongli. He wasn’t at the funeral parlor, much to their dismay at making it an easy search, so they just starting wandering hoping to catch him somewhere along the way. Soon enough, they had wandered just far enough to catch a glimpse of his long brown tailcoat at Liyue Harbor. 

In retrospect, they should have started their search here if the funeral parlor was a bust. 

Zhonglig stood with his hands tucked neatly into each other behind his back, shoulders slack as he looked out over the landscape. He was basking in the solitude at the top arch of the harbor’s bridge when he hear the approaching sounds of footsteps. Turning his chin, he unclasped his hands and let his arms fall from his back before turning to greet the approaching Traveler. 

“Ah,” his deep voice reverberates and only the closest to him can detect the faux sound of a choked strain in it. “Greetings, Traveler.” 

“Hello, Zhongli!” Paimon greets floating just a fraction ahead of Traveler. “What were you doing?” She already begins to pry with a suspiciously high-strained voice. It just makes Traveler silently sigh and shake their head. She really needed to work on being more conspicuous. 

It’s quiet for a moment before Zhongli already catches on. Perhaps he can be a bit dense about certain aspects of the mortal realm, but he was by no means a fool. A smile finds its way on his lips in a moment of mild amusement at Paimon’s grace, or rather lack thereof. 

“I was merely lost in thought. Reminiscing about the past, you could say.” 

“The past?” She pressed again.

“Paimon,” the Traveler hisses for the second time that day. The floating girl just opened her jaw in mock offense before floating closer to them. 

“What? What did Paimon say now!” 

Zhongli’s low chuckle was a soft tune that at least showed he wasn’t offended by the blatant attempt at coaxing his thoughts out of his lips. 

“Did the Director send you to find me perhaps?” The fact that he was trying to slowly steer the conversation away wasn’t lost to the Traveler. Paimon and them both looked back to Zhongli shaking their heads. 

“Not exactly,” Traveler starts. 

“We did run into her though,” Paimon tacks on. “She told us you had been down in the dumps, so we came to check on you!” Paimon’s small hands came to her hips and her chest puffed out as if proud of her actions of checking in with a friend. 

Zhongli chuckles once again at the way Traveler places their hands on their hips as well,. Though, they were instead sending a playful scowl at the back of Paimon’s head.

“It is quite refreshing to see the two of you bicker,” he chides. “It certainly helps in easing the mind.” Once more, the two’s attention was drawn back to the former god. 

“So,” Traveler starts before Paimon could interject with something else, “there is something on your mind?” There was a growing fit of silence between the group of three, no one speaking in fear of shattering something they couldn’t exactly describe. Zhongli seemingly caved with a minuscule sigh kept more to himself than the harbor’s breeze. 

“The assumption that I’ve been a bit… preoccupied is correct. Lately, it seems I cannot focus on certain tasks for too long. My mind has a bit of a tendency to wander around this time of year.” Zhongli can already see the look of curiously mixed with concern written into the eyes of both Paimon and Traveler. His own eyes flick around the bridge and beyond the harbor’s main port before returning back to his visitors. “If you’re very interested to know, then I would not mind trying to explain it all over some tea. Though, it would be best if we took the topic of conversation elsewhere.” 

The sudden shift in his demeanor was almost palpable. It was like a cloak of grey mist started to waft around his very being at the mention of speaking his mind. Now that the two outsiders got the confirmation that whatever it was that was plaguing him was of the past he doesn’t let others know of, they were ready for a lengthy story. 

Zhongli had graciously invited the Traveler and Paimon to his personal abode, a place they had never even set eyes on. Of course, they knew he had to have had a place to stay and sleep, but for some reason it felt like all he ever did was walk around Liyue, do his work at the funeral parlor, or listen to stories at the Third-Round Knockout. It shouldn’t have been a shock to know he had his own home, but all the same, it was. 

It was simplistic inside, with the shelves being the only things of high value because of all the collected items he had bought and stored on them. Gesturing them both to a set of chairs between a table, he began brewing tea to serve as promised. 

Traveler sat awkwardly at first. Shuffling around in their chair while Paimon floated around the open space of the house being nosier than she should’ve been truthfully. Still, Zhongli didn’t say anything about her snooping so she continued to do so until the homeowner returned with a tray in his hands. 

A decorative teapot sat in the middle of the dark, wooden tray atop a plain towel; the steam of the hot, freshly brewed tea wisped out gracefully from its spout. Beside it were three small teacups placed upside down that clattered with the smallest sounds of finely made clay as he set the tray in the center of the table. Along with them was a small dish of cubes of sugar and a small creamer that held milk inside it. 

Zhongli skillfully took the teacups and flipped them over, setting them all upright and easily pouring the exact same amount of tea into each. The brew was dark and the steam wafted around the tabletop before dissipating into the air only to be replaced immediately with more. He slid two cups toward Traveler and the other to Paimon once she stopped her floating around and settled once again as the third member of the current party. He offered the milk and sugar to the two of them as well. 

“I prefer my tea black, but please help yourselves.” Zhongli settled into his own seat easily. One arm resting on the arm of his perch and the other on the table top to curl his fingers around the cup he had prepared for himself. His legs crossed out of habit and it was then that the Traveler realized he had taken off his tailcoat. It was purely out of habit to take it off when he had arrived to the privacy of his own home, and he didn’t even realize it himself- not that it mattered. It was simply a different look than they were used to. 

Paimon began dropping sugar cubes into her cup a bit too clumsily as small droplets splashed on her hand from the objects breaching the liquid causing her to yelp. In turn, the two seated companions offered her chuckles of amusement as she blew on her hand. Of course, it was hardly an injury- it was more a fright than a burn. 

“It’s hot,” Zhongli chided. 

“Gee, you think!” She then started dropping in cube after cube much more delicately. Or, rather she would drop them from the same height as before but immediately fly away when she let go so the upcoming splash wouldn’t touch her again. The Traveler made their own additions to their tea as well, but much less messily. 

The three settle into a comfortable silence filled with small sips of tea and clicks of returning cup to wooden table top. That is, until Zhongli broke it by placing a small wooden box on the table in front of him to join in with the teatray and it’s accessories. 

It was an elegant box the size of his fist. Golden edges wrapped in angular designs and a locked latch in the front of it. On the top of the lid was the symbol of a Geo Vision. At first, the two travelers thought that maybe this box is what he stored his fake Vision in when it wasn’t on his person. Pulling a small key from under his long-collared shirt, he unlocked the box and opened the lid. From where the Traveler sat with the lid facing them, they still couldn’t get a peek inside. 

The last thing they expected Zhongli to pull out of the cushioned, plush lined box was a hair ornament. 

Modeled in the shape of a dragonfly, the piece was carefully handled by the ex-archon and placed so very delicately on the table. The wings of the dragon fly were filled with a crystal that shone green and teal, the colors shifting with the light and angle as which it was gazed upon. The piece itself was designed as a hairstick, acting as an elegant means to pen up locks of hair- the metal rod of the stick seemed well suited for such a job. Matching teal-green crystal beads hung from the bottom tips of each wing as decorative tails. 

It was a beautiful piece to gaze at. 

Zhongli kept his hand on the table right next to it, his fingertips just a breath away from touching it again. When Paimon got a bit too close while gazing at it, Traveler could see the slightest twitch run through his fingers. As if the ex-Archon was anxious about Paimon getting too close to it. Still, to not be rude he said nothing as she continued to narrowing gawk. 

“Paimon, back up a little,” Traveler said, sitting forward a bit to try and act like they were trying to get a better look while simultaneously trying to get Paimon to back off a bit. When Paimon floated back to her place by her teacup, Zhongli’s shoulders loosened like he was relieved at the distance between the reckless floating fairy and this clearly important item. 

“You were curious on what has been on my mind, yes? This is a one reason I’ve been rather… absent as of late.” 

“You’ve been spacing out over a hairstick?” Paimon asked astonishingly. Zhongli shook his head. 

“Not quite.” His fingers uncurled and genly brushed over one of the beaded tails, letting the crystals bump over his fingertips. His eyes softened, yet that cloak of grey melancholy came back to him. “It’s more about who this was going to belong to.” 

Traveler and Paimon both had questions, but remained silent. They both settled into their respective places ready to listen to the story he was surely about to unweave. They knew that the tea would grow cold and kettle drank empty by the time it was all finished. Though, the look in his eyes and the way his voice grew softer in a way that pulled at the heart made the eternity of sitting in one place much easier to bare. 

“This ornament was going to be a gift to someone I knew a very long time ago. I never had the chance to give it too her, however; so, I keep it here with me where it is safe. I cannot bare to throw it out, even after all this time.” 

It seemed crazy, how the two swore his eyes had grown misty just saying those few sentences. How this story is going to start all because of a crystal dragonfly from millenia past.

There were many places that had been tainted and driven to ruin due to the war raging by the Archons. Gods were battling each other for power, others trying to flee from another’s unjustly wrath. Some even tried defending their people instead of taking place in battles or retreating. It was chaos and there were few corners of the old world of Teyvat that wasn’t splattered in a thick muck of bloodshed. 

Still, that didn’t mean everywhere had been tainted. No. This fact rang true as Morax had discovered one fateful day a small territory cleansed of blood and impurity. 

Hidden behind a barrier he had stumbled upon in the middle of a half dead forest, the invisible viel hid everything beyond it from sight. In fact, if he hadn’t happened to be near it, the Archon probably wouldn't have noticed it in the first place. The barrier itself easily gave and allowed him passage inside which led him to believe it was more of a mask than a shield. 

Walking through it led him to a forest of lush floral and trees that thrived surrounding a small section of land that housed no more than 500 people perhaps. A small village with huts scattered around plots of farmland and a rather luxurious palace atop it all. It was a farcry from the near-deathly state of the outside world and the whiplash of it made him momentarily wonder if he was somehow succumbing to some sort of hallucination. 

Morax walked through the dirt paths all the way until the thick wall that cut off the eastern styled palace from the rest of the people. Walls tall and made of a stone the God of Geo had to have created at somepoint. The craftsmanshift of it was marvelous he had to admit as there was not the slightest crack between the stacked stone. Easily vaulting himself onto the tall wall, he gazes beyond it’s perimeter. 

Inside of the sturdy walls, he could see six different buildings. Along the two side walls of stone stood two houses each. Two west and two east, separate yet built so similar he could easily mistake the four as clones of each other if not for his experienced eyes that had seen such fine details over his life. Connecting these four abodes from west to east were grey, stone paths. The same cobblestone led beyond the front gate he had forwent as he perched atop the wall and led straight forward to a single building that was larger than the rest. Morax assumed that was the main estate just from the grandeur of it compared to the lacking other four. 

Though, the final building is harder for the curious immortal to see. It was built directly behind the main estate, no doubt also connected with the same clean stone paths that weaved through the courtyards. All Morax could see of this building was it’s roof, the same tiled and burned color as the high status homes around it. 

Morax straightened his body from it’s crouched position and began to gracefully walk along the stone wall. Getting new angles of the buildings inside, he soon grew close enough to the main estate that he easily lept to it’s roof. Landing as if the air lessened his weight, he could now view that one single building he hadn’t yet more clearly. 

Immediately, the Archon recognized it as a temple that without a doubt housed priests and priestess alike. Some may be masters at their craft and others may be but small, inexperienced fledgings beyond those sacred walls. 

The idea of a temple like that in an uncharted and untainted territory flared his curiosity. So much so, he was hardly in control of his instincts as he once more lept gracefully from the estate’s rooftop onto the stone paths. His barefeet made a sound of collision when his heels touched the man-made path, and continued to make the same shuffling sounds as he walked straight into the temple. 

Morax did not run into a single person in the temple, though he could hear matras and practices from around different open training fields. Even the soft plunks of arrows being driven into targets for archery precision and the chiming of bells for cleansing. The open halls of the temple and the roof over his head that kept the sun’s heated glare from his figure felt comforting. 

Being in a place so filled with peace and sounds of anything but war was outlandish to the otherwise warrior-type god. Morax had contracts to fulfill and his own principals to protect while fending off other gods trying to level his unnamed throne. Taking out a few of his own violation never did any harm to strengthen his gag between himself and others.

The god had walked so freely that he soon found himself under the sun again. Instead of in the open halls of marble floors and burgundy columns, Morax was standing amidst a field of wild grass, flowers, trees, and bushes. It was like the lush forest outside the stone perimeter allowed a single bit of it’s ecosystem inside the temple just for the mortals to bask in. 

A small humming of wings quickly caught Morax’s attention amidst the sounds of the wind’s breeze and dancing leaves. His chin led his head in the direction before coming to see a small dragonfly hovering around him before landing on his shoulder. The view of the insect was neary cut off by the hood he always wore over his head, but the bug itself was peaceful just resting it’s wings on the god’s shoulder for respite. 

For a moment, the warrior of countless battles felt relief. For just that moment, the weight of such responsibility with his temperament lifted all because a small insect decided to rest on him. 

The dragonfly’s respite did not last. The little critter’s wings began to hum again and soon began to hover off and before Morax could stop his feet, he found himself following it. Bare feet stepping over well worn paths of flattened grass and dirt patches. Not long from where had previously stood, he stopped at seeing where the small insect had flown to in lieu of himself. 

The eyes of the archon landed on the first person Morax had seen since entering this temple- although uninvited, presence unknown and undetected. Reaching out a delicate hand with her index finger extended, the dragonfly landed easily on the appendage. 

A priestess knelt elegantly in the tall grass, previously inspecting herbs when she heard the familiar buzz of wings. The hakama pants that folded at her legs were neatly pleaded without a crease out of place and her kosode tucked perfectly into the trousers- not a wrinkle to critque. Her hair had been loosing tied back with a red hair ribbon that fluttered in the breeze that kept the tall grass swaying like waves of spring. 

The wind picked up when the dragonfly lifted off her fingers and off back towards Morax. It was like the little creature had led him straight to her and was now directing her vision back so they could meet each other’s gaze. 

It was all thanks to that one, small bug that Morax and first made eye contact with you.

“Oh,” your small voice of surprise- at seeing such an odd looking man in the overgrown, private gardens of the temple- carried on the same wind that the dragonfly danced in. You stood and dusted off your knees, knocking any sticking dirt off your bottoms before standing up properly. You inspected the man in front of you.

Arms dark as earth with cracks of glowing gold. Clad in a white cloak that split five ways down  and encompassed with a golden belt at his waist with a hood pulled over his head. The hair you could see whipping lightly in the wind behind his back was dark in color matching his arms. His trousers were wide open and baggy around his legs, only encasing snuggly around his ankles. His impressive stature gained your attention easily and you could tell he wasn’t exactly something mortal. It would be ridiculous to think just at the sight of his arms alone, not to mention the air around him seemed so… powerful. 

“My apologies, I wasn’t aware we were expecting a guest today,” the courteous smile you sent him made him wonder if you weren’t at least a little apprehensive of his unexpected presence. 

“You weren’t made aware because no one aside from yourself is aware of my being here.” 

“I see,” you muse. “I hope you are aware that qualifies you as a trespasser.” 

“Trespasser?” Morax gapped, losing his composure for a moment. His brows dipped in offense under his hood, his pride kicking into his throat through his words. “I am no such being.” 

“Ah, but aren’t you just? You said yourself, no one knows you’re here. Yet, you end up in the presence of this temple’s Miko. If that does not mean you’re trespassing, what does?” Morax’s eyes hidden under his hair and flick from your head to your feet and back up again. You were the head shrine maiden? You seemed so young and yet you held such an important position? It planted a pebble of doubt in him.

Then again, if he focused on you properly, he could barely see a small circular arua around your frame. It was like a barrier was placed around you, one protected you from the outside and anything that could taint you. Exactly like the barrier surrounding the territory he had more or less invaded. Honing your spiritual power like that so young, he would’ve perhaps tutted in impressiveness if you hadn’t challenged his very being moments ago. 

Still, Miko or not, he still outranked you. Crossing his arms over his chest, their golden geo pulsed with a soft light. 

“With such a rank you possess, are you still so unaware when a God stands before you? A pity.” 

“On the contrary,” you smile to him and his brow again twitches at your nonchalance. “I’m being quite respectful if you think on it. If you were simply a noble who lives among the palace homes, I would’ve quickly dealt with you since only a select few from outside are allowed entry into the temple. Much less this garden which is private and limited to my attendance only.” 

“Are you implying you could force me away at any moment should you please?” His voice grew tight in challenge. His sense of traquilty from before discovering you was dimming and the frigid air of his battle sense were returning even as the wind continued to caress you both. 

“I assure you I would do no such thing. I’m simply proving that even in the presence of a God, I will not yield since I do not even know which is in front of me. Not to mention, this land has no God to speak of or for. So, if you think about it that way, I am where one would hypothetically stand.” 

Oh. 

Morax felt something stir in his chest at the teasing tilt in your voice that spilled over your lips that curled into a smile. Your eyes were so clean and clear, it was like staring into crystals and he had the urge to create a new form of geo just to replicate them. The feeling was foreign to him, but it shocked him greatly when he realized it wasn’t an unwelcome stir. 

He finally dropped his crossed arms and began to decrease the distance between you both. Morax came to stand in front of you so he could get an even better look at your features. As such, you could now look easily under his hood as he stood above you. His eyes seemed to glow a lovely shade of amber that complemented his glowing, golden skin and dark hair. 

“Address me as, Morax,” he instructed. Your taunting smile turned soft and wide as your eyes closed in the most pleased expression he had seen in years. His amber eyes widened at the innocence and the small bells of laughter that left your throat towards him shook his unshakeable core. 

“That’s much better,” you said, now obviously pleased. “I’m, y/n. It’s an honor to meet you, Morax.” 

It was his name rolling off your tongue- spreading into the wind that had blown harshly for but a moment- that sent an earthquake that started at his chest and spread through his whole body. It was the sound of his own death sentence and he was once again shocked at how he easily accepted that he would definitely be back to this temple. Be back to this garden of overgrown grass and floral. 

Morax would definitely be back to you. 

As promised, Morax had been back to that temple several times since the first time he met you. When the weight of the archon war was- ironically- too heavy, or if he needed a place to escape just for a moment he would seek you out. It was quiet ridiculous how you had somehow wormed your way into his very soul and wrapped him around your finger. 

The Lord of Geo had come to learn much about you in the time he spent by your side. Your favorite flowers and scents, when you had started your priestess training, when you had progressed to the skill level you possess now and how long you had been the acting miko of the temple. Your favorite type of weather, or time of day, or season. In turn, he had confessed things about himself as well. 

How he had been around for as long as the world- or so it sometimes felt that way. How he’s in the middle of a grand and merciless war with other gods presumably because of issues to do with celestia. How he had taken many lives of both mortals and gods alike all for the sake of his own land and people. The very feeling of battle is engraved in his bones like names on a tombstone, yet it didn’t seem to push you away. 

It was laughable. The very Being of war and battle was utterly infautated with you, a mortal being of purity and values. Of course, you were alway assure him that what he did was just his own values, especially his strictness with any contract he made. You neved judged him for his sins and the weight they carried, but you never outwardly agreed with him either. You told him what he needed to hear, not what he wanted and he cherished those words so dearly. If he had any less self-restraint, Morax could easily let himself take your very words as law itself.

Yet again, it was another day he had left his duties behind him as he found you kneeling in the fields of grass once again. Leaping from the outerwalls, to the rooftops of the estate, to the roof of the temple, he easily lands like a pebble hitting sand next to you. It was the rush of air beside you that alerted you of his attendance rather than any sound he made- or didn’t make. 

“Hello again, Morax,” you greet as you thumb through the herbs and check the petals of nearby wildflowers. Morax kneels at your side before sitting fully in the grass, one of his knees bent up to prop his arm on with the other stretched out in front of him. A rather relaxed position you had insisted he use instead of kneeling for however long he visits would last. 

“Good afternoon,” he replies. It’s silent for a while after that. The atmosphere of simply being with you was good enough for Morax. That was until the urge to speak and hear you speak in return hit his throat. “Your people seem more rowdy than usual.” He didn’t need super-enhanced senses to tell that the noise had increased since his last visit. 

“You can tell that even though you’ve never properly been inside?” 

“I have been inside.”

“No one knew that thought,” you tease with a finger that flicked back and forth a few times. “So, it isn’t a proper stroll in my temple.” Morax playfully chuckles at your antics. “You are correct though.” 

“Is there a reason?” He had noticed it since he arrived, but the air around you seemed heavy. “Something seems to be weighing on you.” 

“You’re perceptive. I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked about that considering-” 

“Y/n.” 

You sigh before the hand that had been thumbing at flower petals falls back into the tresses of wild grass and to the ground at your side. 

“The monks are gathering in a rush under Master Jiang’s orders.” Morax’s brow furrows at the information. You had mentioned this Master Jiang before. He was apparently a traveling monk that had previously been nomadic. Though, since the archon war had only gotten worse over the course of time, he had settled in the safety of your barrier and subsequently in your temple. 

On the rare occasions you let your irritations get the best of you, you spilled your guts to Morax about how he was constantly chanllenging your power and position in the temple. Thinking he was better because he was older with more experience beyond the protective walls of your home. Along with the misguided misogyny of being a man. It was one thing after another, spouting off about anything that irked you until you got all your curses off your lips in the privacy of the archon. 

Morax had not met this Jiang- not to mention anyone else outside of you inside the temple sense his visits weren’t exactly documented- but he already strongly disliked him. Now, he was trying to taking charge of your temple?

“For what purpose.” You do no respond to him right away and it sends a jolt through his nervous system. “Y/n. For what purpose,” he repeats with a heavier tone. You let out a sigh that feels as heavy as your aura as you sit in the field of wildgrass and flowers with the closest being to your heart. 

“He’s afraid that we’re going to soon be effected by the war as well.” You didn’t need to specify which war, he was more than well aware which you were referring to. 

Among the other things he had learned about you, he had come to understand why your people were save from the archon’s destruction so far. It was because of you and your power. 

Inside the temple was a specific place for you to practice your skills and keep the barrier around your precious home. That didn’t showcase all you could do, however and Morax knew it. Keeping the living things inside safe and keeping all the taint out. If something did happen to get inside your barrier, you were quickly dispatched to purify it. You could tell the moment something breached your safe haven, all the proof he needed as his first appearance to you. 

You had admitted ot him once that the reason you didn’t immediately cast him out was simply because you didn’t feel any hostility from his presence. He had no intention on hurting your people or home, so you allowed him access in. That barrier was an extension of your power; constant proof you were so much stronger than that stupid old monk was trying to plat down. 

Morax had only heard the sound of your birch tree bowstring plucked once before, and the air instantly felt cleaner. He’d heard bells in the distant halls while he waited for you in the treetops of your private garden to avoid the chance of being seen. While with you, he had picked up on a masking you placed over him so he couldn’t be detected by others and kept safe from prying eyes. Your power still astonished him even after all this time. 

“That’s asinine,” he growled. The whole ordeal of it all just set the message that they didn’t trust you and your abilities. After all you had done since you were a child to protect these people, after everything you’ve sacrificed, and they’re doubting you now? When your powers were in their prime? It was insulting. 

“Morax-”

“Do not try and save their value but udnermining your own.” 

“I’m not!” You cry in exasperation. You let out another sigh before letting your body lean into his shoulder and against his propped up leg. Morax froze up as your body softly collided with his own. While you had him attached to your very being, hook line and sinker, he had never once touched you. Not a single brush of his fingertips to your body or even allowing your legs to touch as you sat side by side. 

The side of his body you rested on felt like a volcano on his geo-ingraved skin. 

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Could I stay like this just for a moment longer?” 

His arm that you leaned against came to wrap around your shoulder and push your head further against him. The archon lowered his leg to join the other on the ground just so he could have you closer to him. His chin rested by your forehead and he closed his eyes letting you invade every one of his senses. Squeezing your form as he felt the trembles you tried to conceal and force to stay inside, not letting yourself break as much as he wanted you to. Morax wanted you to feel safe and open with him, but he understood all too well how difficult a task that was as someone of your strict upbringing. 

“Stay here as long as you need. I will not move.” Morax was geo, the land itself. He created mountains and stone and they all know his name. He was a god of contracts and his words were just as serious as those that he holds so strictly to them. The Lord of Geo would stay your unyielding pillar for as long as you needed him. That he promised to himself as he felt your small drops of tears silently fall onto his chest that he dare not mention. The urge to wipe them away and treasure you like a fragile bell ached within him, but he dare not act on those either.

For but a brief moment, Morax- the Geo Archon- wished for a single second he was mortal. That he was like you.  

Morax had no idea how this happened. What had gone wrong? Was it him? Did his sudden intrusion into your life of purity ruin everything? As a god, did his divine hands finally touch something he was never meant to?

Weeks ago you had urgently awaited his normal time of arrival but as soon as he showed, you urgently told him to leave. To leave the temple, the palace, the barrier- all of it- and never come back. You had demanded he return to the world he knew, the one filled with smoke and war and ongoing conquests. His chest filled with thick, black tar as you screamed at him and he did what any sane being would do. Morax screamed back, unable to understand and he was losing his patience bit by bit.  

The Archon wanted answers, none of which he demanded for were satisfing. The monks had finally discovered that you had been meeting with an outsider from beyond the barrier; to make matters worse, they knew it was Morax who had been active in the outside war since it begun. They were focring you to make a decision and the best course of action was to push him away before things got too out of hand and would be to a point where you could do nothing. 

It made no sense to Morax. He could help, he was certain of it. He’d let you direct him, use him how you like and pull his actions like a puppet on willing strings. He’d follow your every order to the letter if you just wouldn’t force him out and shun him like you were desperately trying to do. 

You wouldn’t yield. 

Morax hated your stubbornness now more than ever. You finally forced him away with a bracellet you had made yourself that was nothing but clear-ringing, golden bells threaded with red string. The sound they made amplified your power and he knew at just the meresight of them you were trying to make him leave. 

With one flick of your wrist, he could feel invisible threads of nothing wrap around his limbs and begin to tug. Once more he tried to reason something- anything- out of you, but was met with nothing but a second ring of bells that yanked his whole being out of your barrier. Forced out and finding himself outside, he was furiously frustated. Summoning his polearm, he let out a cry before thrusting it into and then subsequently through the neearst tree effectively slicing it down.  

Your final words to him stay in his ears like a parasite- pounding against his eardrums so violently he was afraid they'd burst if they continued to torment him. 

“If you ever return, I will have no choice but to take further actions, Morax.” 

Morax had to stay away from you. It’s what you wanted; or maybe it wasn’t your wish- but it’s what you said. What you demanded he do. Still, he didn’t know when this happened. Morax didn’t know when he decided that the last thing he would ever do is stay away. 

Therefore, Morax still returned into your barrier and through your territory. Just as you had said, you were true to your words. 

The moment you felt his presence trespass inside your barrier, you evacuated the palace and with the same bells you sent him away with, you summoned him back. It was like he was teleported with magic, the same invisble strings that had yanked him out now drew him in. The ringing of your bells reverated in his ears before he was standing in that same overgrown field. 

Morax stood in the one spot he first saw you and you took presence in the spot he had found you kneeling. This time, there were no dragonflies humming in the air and something in him knew there never would be again. 

“I told you,” you choked. 

“I refuse to listen to a moral’s orders,” he bit back. It was a lie. He said he’d listen to your every word, and he meant it. Even when his desperate pleas to stay by you landed him nowhere by alone. 

Morax knew there was only one option left as he eyed the staff in your hand. Your grip was so tight around it your hand trembled with the sheer force of it. Your head shook with micro-swivels on your neck as you kept your eyes on the ground. 

“You should have.” Morax’s polearm materialized at his side in a moment before he took it’s familiar grip into his palm. He had only ever told you of his weapon, never wanting to show you in case it tainted you somehow. All that silly precaution seemed so pointless now. 

The gentle breeze he was accustomed to had become bone chilling as you lifted your chin to finally look at him. Morax almost caved seeing your angry tears, but as you moved to engage in battle, he let his body move on it’s own. The god who was so accustomed to battle just wanted to shut his brain off for this one. 

Morax didn’t want to do this. 

The battle between you both was a long one. You screamed at each other. Sometimes words, sometimes just sounds of angusih and pain. You knew Morax was holding back on you, you didn’t have the power to fully stop a god and you knew it. Morax knew it. Whether he was holding back because of his affections for you or because he was toying with you, you couldn’t figure it out. The power of your barrier did limit his abilities some, but it was hardly enough to be considered a handicap.

Still, somehow, you had knocked his polearms from his hand before you forced him onto his back into the grass. 

His cloack was torn and his arms of geo-glowing beauty seemed dim and dark like the shadow cast over his eyes. His hood had been knocked back while his hair was tosseled and battleworn. Your body and his were covered in cuts and burns and scrapes. Everything hurt from inside your body to the outside. 

You had him on his back as you climbed over him. Your legs pinned his arms down and your weight sat on his chest, the bottom of your staff pushing into his throat as your labored breaths shook throughout your whole body. All you had to do with lift your staff just a fraction and slam it back down and you could do some major purifying damage to his body. It probably wouldn’t kill him… but what if it did? Did you have it in your to purify a god? Maybe if you tried, it would take all your strength and you could die together. You almost scoff at yourself- 

-wouldn’t that be just poetic.

You could feel his own chest heaving under your weight and you knew he could easily throw you off him if he wanted to. Just like before though, he did nothing. He just lay in the grass beaten and battered as he glared beyond the staff’s pole into your face. You hated the look in his eyes.

“Will you not follow through?” He chastised with so much venom you wanted to vomit. The staff shook once with both of trembling hands holding it above his neck. You had to- it was your duty. You would be betraying your people if you let him live. For your people, for the cowardice monks who forced you here, for your ignorance for thinking you could keep Morax by your side without consequence. For everything you had trained for until now, you had to get rid of him. You had to!

Morax sucked in a breath as he readied his neck to be pulverized. Your staff came away from his throat… and soon your weight was being pushed off his body entirely. Raising to your shaking, exposed legs from your torn trousers, you took staggering steps backward from him. Morax’s glare morphed into shock as he raised to his elbows to watch you retreat. 

“What-” 

He watched  your chest heave with frustrated tears. Choked, uneven sobs tore at your throat as you screamed before throwing your staff far from your grip. You heard it clank against Morax’s discarded polearm and thought for a moment how ironic it was. Your weapon reuinited with his in your moment of weakness- your lowest point of failure. The moment you threw duty away and chose yourself for once. 

“I can’t,” you cry, falling to your knees into the singed and destroyed field that once flourished so wonderuflly. “Please, go,” you beg. Morax climbs to his feet, wincing at the wounds on his body before calling for his polearm again. Once it was again in his grip, he looked at the dried blood of yours that litered the blade. The Lord of Geo immedately dismissed it, watching it disapate into the air from whence he summoned it. He simply stood there, looking down at your crumbling frame. 

What were you doing? You were going against your practices and willingly letting a supposed threat escape. He took one step in your diection, still so woefully attached to you. Watching you tear at the seams and keep unraveling in front of his very eyes. He was at a loss; what could he do to even begin to ease your suffering when he himself was part of it?  

“No.” You could feel his eyes on you and his want to approach you burnt the top of your head at which he gazed. “Be gone.” You demand once again like the first day you chased him off. You didn’t hear him move and in a fit of nothing left, you tore off your bell bracellet and threw it in his direction. “Go back to where you belong!”  And in a mere moment, his presence vanished and you broke completely. The eyes of the monks watched as you sobbed in the gardens, the battle they made you wage concluding with no victor. 

“Zhongli…” the story behind the hairpiece and his grief was heavier than either Paimon or Traveler was expecting. 

“I had planned to gift this to y/n during one of our meetings. I knew she wouldn’t be allowed to wear it of course,” he chuckled bitterly to himself. “For a great many of reasons. Still,” it would’ve proven to myself she was mine. Zhongli cleared his throat. “Regardless, I think I’ve spoken enough for once. The tea has run out and you both surely have other arrangements as the day is waning.” 

“Paimon doesn’t think-” 

“Then, we’ll be off,” Traveler interjects. Zhongli was just being polite but what he was really saying was that he wanted to be alone. “Thank you for telling us. Y/n sounded like a wonderful person.” 

“Tis but a story.” The way he replied made it sound like he was trying to convince himself more than them. The two left his home, leaving him still sitting at the table with an empty teacup and still holding that crystal winged dragonfly like it was Teyvat’s most precious treasure. 

It was quiet between Paimon and the Traveler as they walked aimlessly around Liyue. The Traveler’s mind boggled at the information they had been told and grew curious to any they hadn’t. They were almost certain that there was more to your story, but Zhongli couldn’t bare to say anymore. 

“Wait,” Traveler stopped in the middle of the path, bringing their hand to cup around their mouth in thought. “That all happened during the Archon War, right?” 

“Paimon thinks she remembers him mentioning that. Why?” 

“Do you think Xiao would know anything about it?” Traveler thought about it, but if memory served Morax was the one who granted Xiao his name. As Paimon looked at the blond with wonder, a voice spoke behind them. 

“You called?” 

Paimon’s screech echoed into the air as the Traveler spun around, not expecting the very apedtus to show up. Xiao sure took the calling of his name seriously. 

“Paimon never-” the floating companion looked to the blonde. “Oh, yeah. I guess we kinda did.” Xiao crosses his arms as he stands expectantly. The daytime hours were few in remaints and the streets began to slowly thin in populous, so he was less reserved about being around people, Though, he still didn’t want to linger either. Regardless of his wants, he noticed the air of tensity around you both. 

“Did something happen.” It wasn’t a question, it hardly was when Xiao was involved. 

“Do you know anything about a woman named y/n?” Xiao’s body when frigid as he dropped his arms and quickly stepped up to the both of you. Coming nearly toe to toe as the Traveler squeaked and took a half step back. 

“How do you know that name.” Once again, Xiao wasn’t asking. Traveler looked around and decided that standing in the middle of the road wasn’t the best place for this conversation. 

“Let’s go somewhere else.” 

The newly formed trio had migrated outside the city and out into the wilderness by a river.  Xiao and Traveler took to sitting among stones, Xiao crossing his legs and Traveler letting their’s dangle. Paimon’s ever floating presence never going too far from the two. They sat and listened to the sound of the bable of running water, trying to find a way to reopen the previously halted conversation. 

“Did Rex Lapis tell you about y/n?” Xiao ripped the bandage off first, something Traveler was almost thankful for. “That’s the only possible conclusion I can think of if you know her name since she wasn’t memorialized during her lifetime.” 

“Yeah, he did. I’m pretty sure he chased us out before he could tell us everything though.” Xiao nodded. Earnest understanding shone in his eyes but there was something else behind those irises of his, but the Traveler couldn’t figure out what it was. “Did you knew her too, Xiao?” He nodded again. 

“Not long after Morax found me and gave me my name, I found out that he was frequently paying visitation to a mortal woman. I thought he was being reckless, so he took me to meet her one day.” 

“He took you himself?” Paimon questioned. 

“Yes. He wanted to prove a point.” 

Xiao could still remember his first impression of you.  You had scolded Morax as soon as he landed in the familiar garden, arms crossed and mouth opening in reprimands. Calling him foolish for bringing a highly detectable entity beyond your barrier- one he didn’t even realize he had breached with his archon- and that if you hadn’t masked his spiritual signal just like how you did with his own, he’d be in a world of trouble. 

Seeing Morax take your scolding as he stood there bemused, Xiao’s first thought was that he did not like you. He distrusted you. What kind of mortal argues with a god on what they can and cannot do like you did? It was ludicrous. Still, the moment Morax introduced him as his newest comrade named Xiao, you smiled at him. You sent along with that smile a warm welcome and he suddenly felt awkward. 

“Xiao,” you called to his back before he was to leave with Morax at the need to return back outside your walls. He did not turn around to face you, but he did not move until you spoke again. “Feel free to come back and visit anytime. I’ll keep you covered.” 

“Rex Lapis- Morax- was the one who saved me and gave me the name Xiao. I respect him and owe him a great deal- a debt I may not truly be able to ever repay in full. In mortal terms, some may say he’s like a father to me.” Xiao’s chin lifted up to the darkening sky. The day had felt so long, the Traveler hadn’t realized just how late it was beginning to get. “If Morax was a father, then y/n was my mother."

The yaksha can still remember the first time he had sought you out for himself without Morax with him he was recoiling from karmic debt. It didn’t take a genius to know that he felt lighter in your presence- your purifying light helping ease his burdensn whether you did so purposely or not. 

It was late into the night when you had awoken abruptly from your sleep to the sensation of Xiao passing through the barrier. You sprung up from your futon, quickly focusing on his approach and cloaking him the best you could. His energy was rough, dark and pulsing and it worried you. You quickly made your way out to the garden where you knew he’d be and unshockingly enough was when you arrived. 

Curled into himself on his knees, his arms wrapped around his torso as black smoke engulfed him like vines. Gasping and sweating, he weakly stay collapsed in the grass as you ran to his side. 

“Xiao!” You whispered in anxiety as you knelt next to him, your eyes teary in fright. “What’s happening to you?” He didn’t answer, just shook his head with heavy, labored breaths. The moment, your hand came to rest on his back, his eyes rolled back with a fraction of his burden easing off his shoulders. Xiao slumped into you, his shoulder and neck pushing into your legs as his head rested partially on your stomach. His sudden collison knocked you back into the grass, your previously kneeling form now firmly planted on the ground. 

“Please,” he gasped as your other hand had come to his shoulder that wasn’t pushing into your lap. “Please, could you… sing.” In truth, he wasn’t sure why he asked that of you. He didn’t know what possessed him to request something so odd, but regardless of the oddity, you did. Your mouth had opened and you slowly and softly began to sing him a lullaby he had never heard before that night. 

It was like a blanket of early morning mist started to coat his burning, heavy body. His aching came to a slow stop as his mind became clearer. You sang the lullaby over and over again until the effects of his karmic debt had disappeared into the evening air. Even when he went completely lax on your lap and your hands had moved to run through his hair and across his back, you kept singing until early that next morning Morax had come to retrieve his missing Adeptus. 

As Xiao in the present looked at the stars, tracing constellations, he once again was reminded of your lullaby. You sang that to him many times after that and he remembered every single instance. It wasn’t far-fetched to say that the reason Barbarto’s song’s calmed him so is because he’s reminded of you in those moments and tunes. 

Yes, Xiao came to revere you just as much as his Archon- even though you were just a mere mortal. 

“So,” Traveler spoke up softly, trying to gently pull him from his obvious reminiscing. “What happened to y/n? Zhongli mentioned that he had fought her, but what happened then? Did they ever see each other again?” 

“No,” Xiao’s face contorted into a grimmance as his fist’s balled in his lap. “Y/n was executed before Morax could ever see her again.” His fists were so tightly balled they shook, clearly he still resented the fate you had been subjected to. 

“Executed?!” Paimon exclaimed. “But- but why?!” 

“Because she let Morax live.” The yaksha’s eyes narrowed as he gnashed his teeth. “Those filthy monks that poisoned her temple confined her to a dungeon cell where they starved and deprived her of anything. Letting her suffer for days before placinig a curse and executing her all because she refused kill an Archon.” 

“Did those people really not like Archons that much?” Paimon asked. 

“They were monsters!” He exclaimed. “Y/n had been raised to choose the people over her own desires, but the moment she wanted something for herself they-” 

“Xiao,” Traveler interrupted, reaching out their hand to place it on his folded knee. 

“She didn’t deserve the fate they gave her.” Traveler only nodded at his solemn tone. “When her execution was carried out, Morax… he reacted to an extreme.” 

“An extreme?” Paimon inquires. Xiao nodded, lifting his head back up from where it had been tucked towards his chest in anger. 

“The moment y/n’s barrier disappeared Morax stormed inside. He destroyed everything he could get his hands on. I… I was with him.” Xiao was enraged at the news of your demise, but he knew as he watched the back of his Archon as took the lives of the lowly monks who dared try to outrank you that the grief and emotions Morax felt course through him far outweighed his own. 

By day's end, the entire palace, surrounding village, and temple were all up in flames or crushed into rubble. Standing among the burning wreckage that stunk of ash, blood and death Morax plunged his polearm into the earth and screamed with no one left to witness him aside from Xiao. Instead of trying to approach his archon, he instead kept his eyes on the remains of buildings going up in flames like a personal pyre in remembrance of you. 

“After that, Morax stopped talking about her to anyone. It was like he pushed her into the recesses of his mind and tried to erase her altogether. With the meeting of other Archons and the assembly of Liyue, it seemed like he was trying to move forward.” 

“Poor Zhongli,” Paimon whined. “Star crossed lovers sure are sad to think about.” 

“To this day, there’s no one y/n has cared for as deeply as Morax.” At Xiao’s confession, Traveler’s ears perked. Did they hear that right? 

“Hold on,” they started, “what do you mean ‘to this day’?” Xiao’s body stiffened. He cleared his throat before he looked away, hoping that silence would push past his slip up. “Xiao!” 

“It meant nothing.” 

“Liar.” 

“I am not.” 

“Paimon thinks so too!” 

“Your input does not encourage much.” 

“Hey!” 

“Xiao,” Traveler tries again, arms crossing over their chest as they straighten their sitting posture on the stone they still sat on. Xiao cursed himself at deflating so easily in the face of the blond’s pressure. 

The Adeptus took after his Archon in that sense it would seem. 

“If you can keep it a secret,” he hesitated, “then I have somewhere to take you.” Xiao’s face turned back and looked the Traveler into the eyes.  They could see just house uneasy his gaze was, yet still under it was a stern ‘this is important’ before everything else. They nodded deeply towards him and force another sigh from his lips. The two of them jump from their stone seats as Xiao points in a direction. “Then follow me.” 

“Paimon can keep a secret too!” 

“Somehow, I doubt that.” Still, Xiao let her follow him too. The more the merrier you’d say- or at least he hopes. 

“I had no idea there was a place like this in Liyue!” Paimon exclaims after Xiao had taken both her and the Traveler along a path through the forests and into a clearing. After approaching what appeared to be nothing, his figured seemed to pass through something. The two who accompanied him both gawked at his sudden disappearance into thin air before he was reappearing from nowhere. ‘Hurry up,’ he had told them as they cautiously followed his once again disappearing back. 

Beyond the boundary of nothingness was a fairly large home that was longer than the clearing thy where previously in. The path forward was lined with trees and during the daytime they provided comfortable shade for any who walked under them. Now though, they just casted nighttime shadows of moonlight. The air felt different from the forest’s air as well. As if it had been filtered through something and made even cleaner than normal. 

Xiao walked with confidence through the path of trees and up the steps of the elongated home like he had done it a million times before. He didn’t even stop to check and make sure that both Traveler and Paimon were still behind him and hadn’t instead wandered off. The lanterns that lit the halls cast moving shadows along the walls and they danced off Xiao’s back as they continued to trail after his heels. 

Soon, he came to a stop outside a set of doors before looking at Traveler briefly then back again. He knocked twice around the hardened sides of the doorframe and didn’t wait for any signs of noise before taking further action. Sliding them open, he stepped inside and the Traveler and Paimon naturally followed.  

It was a large room, a small floor desk tucked away on one side littered with papers, books and ink. Another set of doors opposite from the ones he had just walked through led out to an open terrace that further pushed out into a stone garden. On the opposite side of the room was an unfurled, messy futon that lacked a body to rest inside it. 

Xiao sighed at seeing the empty futon and made his way out the doors to the wooden terrace. Apparently he had found who he was looking for since he began to speak and it wasn’t to the Traveler. 

“Why are you not resting?” 

“How could I when I have visitors?” A voice answered him and it made the skin on the Traveler’s face flush. It sounded clear like bells and was as soft as a gentle stream. Holding such composure- it reminded them of Zhongli’s voice and how aged it was. Xiao backed up into the room again as someone had came inside. 

The dark hour left the woman mostly unseen, but Xiao was quick to start lighting a lantern for light. 

“Thank you, Xiao,” she commented as the wick began to burn with a flickering flame. Traveler’s face remained flush at the woman in front of them. She didn’t just sound wise, she looked it. Like she had seen many years and experienced many things- but still looked so young. Xiao moved to her side and Traveler didn’t need to ask if the woman in front of them was who they thought she was. “Are you friends of Xiao’s?” 

“Yes,” Traveler whispered before they cleared their throat and answered again. “Yes, we are.”

“I see.” Xiao cleared his own throat, turning his head away at the gaze the woman sent him. Luckily the lantern didn’t light the room the greatest so his tinted cheeks stayed between the duo and didn’t reach the Traveler’s eyes. Looking back, she smiled warmly and it seemed exactly like how Zhongli explained. “It’s lovely to meet you both. My name is y/n.” 

“WHAT?!” Paimon exclaimed before slapping her hands over her mouth. Both at the discourtesy and the late hour she had yelled into. 

“I assume you have a great deal of questions,” you tell them, “but, for now I think we should table all that for tomorrow. You’re both more than welcome to stay here for the night. Xiao can lead the way for you.” 

With that, somehow the two travel companions ended up in a guest room with two futons and Xiao telling them to get some rest before leaving and presumably going back to your side. 

You had once again left your room to sit on the terrace and Xiao joined you. Sitting beside you, his head coming up to your shoulder in height as you both looked and focused on nothing. 

“Are you upset with me?” He asked. 

“Not particularly, no. Shocked, maybe. I wasn’t expecting someone else to follow in behind you from the forest.” 

“I apologize.” 

“There’s no need.” You slowly bring your hand up to rest on the back of Xiao’s head, a comfort to both him and you. Just like how Xiao described you as a mother, you didn’t ever think of him as anything less than what you assumed a son would be like. “It’s actually helped me with something that’s been on my mind lately.” 

Xiao just grabbed onto the sleeve of the robe you wore, not saying anything but conveying enough for you to understand. 

“I’ll explain it tomorrow. For now, how about a lullaby?” Even from the guest room and with Paimon already asleep, the Traveler could hear a faint song in the air before drifting to sleep. 

“Sooo, how old are you?” 

“Paimon!” Traveler yelled. “That’s rude!” 

“I was just asking a question!” 

“Ask a different one!”

The small squabble that earned a sigh from Xiao the next morning led you into a small laughing fit. The group of you were gathered in a drawing room used for when Xiao would visit you during your days. You’d spend time listening to things Xiao would encounter outside, and while it was a good way to pass the time you would otherwise spend alone, it felt better with more lively guests like this. 

“Xiao’s older than I am, so please rest assured I’m younger than you think.” 

“Xiao’s older?!” 

“Ahem,” the Yaksha interrupts by clearing his throat, “age matters aside, don’t you think now would be a good time for an explanation. If we’re gone from Liyue too long, Zhon- er- Rex Lapis could get suspicious.” 

“Why’d you correct yourself like that Xiao?” Paimon asks before you answer for him. 

“He feels like Morax’s mortal name makes me uncomfortable. I’ve told him time and time again that it doesn’t bother me, but he insists on using his other titles. Feel free to keep referring to him as you’re used to, I won’t get confused.” 

“How considerate of him,” Paimon dryly says, pulling another chuckle from you. 

“In any case, Xiao is right. I assume he told you about me, seeing as he brought you here himself.” 

“Sort of,” Traveler starts. “Zhongli is actually the one who told us about you. Xiao just told us more.” A shocked look passes over your features when you hear that the former Archon had opened up about you at all. “He said that someone from his past died around this time and we were worried about him. We kind of… pressured him into telling us.” 

“I don’t think that’s true,” Xiao said as he crossed his arms. “If Rex Lapis truly didn’t wish to speak about it, he wouldn't have. Believe me. He’s too stubborn.” 

“Be nice,” you lightly chide him. “Still, it’s a shock. I thought he would’ve buried his memories of me long ago.” 

“I’ve told you,” Xiao spoke up again, “Rex Lapis- he still-” 

“Xiao.” Your voice was stern for a moment before he clammed up. 

“Sorry,” he spoke defeatedly. Instead of staying quiet and letting the awkward air cloud up the room, he started up the discussion of why he had brought outsiders here in the first place. “Traveler, do you remember when I told you that Lady y/n had been executed?” Traveler nodded and was shocked at his use of a title. He didn’t use one at all when he was talking about you yesterday? Did he always address you personally like that? “Do you also recall how I mentioned how before she was killed, she was cursed.” 

“Oh yeah,” Paimon acknowledges. “Paimon remembers you saying something like that.” 

“It’s because of that curse that she’s still alive.” 

“They cursed her not to die? Doesn’t that seem kinda dumb since they apparently executed her for not defeating Zhongli?” Paimon’s face scrunched before her entire being deflated. “Paimon doesn’t get it.” 

“That isn’t quite correct. I can die,” you inform them. Xiao’s fist twitched as his gently grasped the fabric of his pants in his palms. “In fact, I have died several times. The curse i bare is that I cannot stay dead.” 

“Isn’t that still contradictory to what the monk’s were trying to accomplish?” Traveler asks. 

“Not necessarily. Back in my original life, I had broken a vow I had been raised on: placing my people above myself and never being selfish. That one sacred vow being broken was enough for Jiang to label me a treasonous traitor. This eternal life of mine is punishment for that crime.” 

“That’s so dumb!” Paimon exclaims. You continue to explain after she’s finished huffing. Her puffy face was quite amusing to look at as she crossed her small arms like she was offended on your behalf. 

“My curse resets my life to the point in time I was killed. Therefore, any injuries or illnesses I received in previous lives have all but vanished. I can still starve and freeze to death. I can become ill and contract diseases just like a normal mortal. I’ll die if I'm stabbed and I’ll scar if I’m burned. Still, even after all that, I’ll simply wake up again like none of it happened. This prolonged suffering is what Jiang and his acolytes were after.” 

“That’s terrible,” Traveler whispers. “Have you died many times?” 

“I’ve lost count.” You raise your hand to look at your palm that has been the same as the first time you woke up from death. In the ruins of your destroyed temple you were foggy minded and confused before your entire being filled with dread. “I’ve lived so many lives I cannot remember them all, but I know I’ve touched on every type. I’ve gone mad, harming people around me and myself. I’ve given in to every sin in hopes that they would allow me to die and not come back. I’ve even tried ending the cycle myself, but all to no avail.” 

You took a deep breath before dropping your hand back to your lap. 

“As stained as I am now, I’m hardly the priestess I used to be. I can never be that pure original version of me, but I’ve long accepted that. I’m quite… content with my life right now.” 

“Content my foot,” Xiao huffed. “You were planning to stay alone for a lot longer if I hadn’t found you.” 

“Wait,” Paimon piques, “found you?” 

“It was purely by chance,” you explain. “Sometimes, I’ll venture into Liyue but under a cloaked disguise so I’m not recognized or detected. Some years ago, I accidentally ran into Xiao near Wangshuu Inn and spoke his name purely out of reflex. He heard me and well, it was safe to say he wasn’t exactly pleased as he tracked me down.” 

“I was frustrated,” he corrected. “I came to find out you were alive and hiding for eons after thinking you were long dead.” 

“I know.” 

“Imagine how Morax would feel if he knew!” 

“I know, Xiao,” you repeat. “That’s something I actually want to talk to you about.” Xiao stills in his rampage before his arms slowly uncurl and his posture takes on something uncomfortable. “You’ve kept my life a secret for some time now, omnienting the truth from the Archon you respect so much. I’m sorry for asking such a selfish request.” You turn to look at the slack faced boy before bringing your hand to cup his chin affectionately. Traveler felt like they were impeding on a parental moment as they tried to look anywhere but you both. “If you want to, you can tell him the truth now.” 

Xiao’s hand comes to quickly clasp around your wirst that started to fall away from his face. His mouth opens before it closes again. He was torn between what he’s been wanting to do for so long and the open permission to actually do it. 

“Are you… for certain?” 

“Yes,” you swallow a lump in your throat. “I’m certain.” Xiao quickly takes your wrist out of his grip before he’s rushing to stand up. He stands with such a force he teeters on his feet before going to the door. He didn’t want to wait a single moment longer. “Xiao!” He stops momentarily and he’s reminded just for a brief moment how you spoke his name like that to his back the first day he ever met you milinia ago. This time though, he spun to look you in the eyes. “Take this with you,” you had gotten up from your place and placed your hand out of a nearby window. Bringing it back in not longer after, an insect of glimmering colors hummed through the space and landed on his shoulder. 

“A dragonfly!” Paimon exclaims as Traveler also rose to their feet ready to follow Xiao out. Xiao just nods before dashing out of the door. Being inside your barrier always made it hard for him to teleport between locations, so he had to get outside first. “Traveler, lets catch up with Xiao!” Paimon says, pointing after him. 

“Yeah,” they agree before looking back to you as you stay by at the window. 

“Get going now,” you urge before Traveler was awkwardly bowing to you and running out, calling Xiao’s name to try and get him to ‘slow down and wait up!’ 

Once alone again, you felt a coil settle in your chest. It was the same tightness you felt when Xiao had found you. Found out you were alive as you confessed everything to his insistent pleading after following you into your barrier. You braced your hands on the window pane before swallowing a lump in your throat. 

You never got the proper chance to tell Morax how you felt about him in your original life. It was wrong for a mortal like you to fall in love with a god- much less in the middle of a world altering war. You would’ve been far more foolish to confess your feelings than you were when you let him go. 

The tight coil only grows barbed spikes as you remember the last time you ever saw him. Laying beneath you as you pinned him down. Standing before you as you demanded him away. Feeling the empty air as he vanished right before you eyes. 

Xiao had told you that he was the one responsible for destroying your home. Burning it all down and destroying everything in his sight all because you had died. He was so filled with anguish and you didn’t know if you fully believed it. Xiao insisted that Morax hasn’t cared for a single soul as much as he cared for you. Even know as he lived as Zhongli you still hadn’t been replaced. You didn’t know if you believed that either. 

“I won’t regret this… will I?” You ask no one as you feel yourself start to pathetically cry. “Weak,” you call yourself as you stand alone in the empty home you constructed for yourself long ago. 

“Did you find him yet?” Traveler asks Xiao as they met back up in the middle of Liyue. Zhongli wasn’t at the funeral parlor and Hu Tao didn’t know where he had meandered off to before they came looking for him. He wasn’t at his home nor was he listening to that storyteller at Three-Round Knockout like usual. “Last place is the harbor. He was at the bridge when we found him, so let’s go look.” 

They made haste to the bridge, but with crestfallen faces it was devoid of any kind of descended Archon. They were about to recollect their thoughts and try and figure out if there was any other place he frequented they could try when someone spoke up behind them. 

“You all seem troubled,” the familiar voice of Zhongli startled all three of them as they all whipped around to look at him. He looked as composed as usual, maybe even a bit better than yesterday. Maybe airing some of his grievances helped him out a bit after all. Still, who knows how the news Xiao had for him would effect his mental well being. 

“Rex- ahem- Zhongli, I need to speak with you.” In the heat of the moment, Xiao almost addressed him as Rex Lapis. Calling him that in the middle of the busy day would be a mistake, so it was good he caught himself. Zhongli looked at Xiao’s steadfast gaze and let it travel over to the blond and their companion who’s always had an issue keeping quiet. 

“You all look stiff, like something has happened.” 

“That’s Zhongli for you,” Paimon remarks. “Always perceptive.” 

“So, it’s as I surmised.” 

“I’ll explain everything, but it can’t be here.” Xiao stepped in. 

“I understand,” Zhongli sighs. “Come with me. We can talk outside the city away from any possible prying ears. I would prefer to not be cooped up indoors.” 

Just like the day before, Zhongli took the group out to the same river Xiao did; it was far from the people and now he stood cross-armed and ready for any sort of explanation. Traveler stayed quiet, knowing it was Xiao’s wish to say something first and made sure Paimon stayed quiet too. If anything, they were there to make sure nothing got out of hand- this was truly between them. 

“On behalf of someone else’s word, I’ve been keeping something from you. It’s about… It’s about, y/n.” 

“Xiao,” Zhongli bit and Xiao felt the words get stuck in his throat the moment your name left his mouth. Zhongli’s tone was already on edge. Just the mention of your name was enough to make the Archon nearly growl. The former divine being had been feeling the blanket of grief hold him down more this year than previous ones, the fact that he opened up about you just the day prior to the Traveler made old wounds throb. The last thing he wanted was to talk about you and make everything hurt all over again for another time. 

“I understand you don’t want to talk about her, but please hear me out.” 

“I will not entertain whatever thoughts you think you need to say. Y/n died a long time ago, you should leave her in the past.” His words were ironic since he himself couldn’t even do that. 

“You don’t understand.” 

“Xiao.” 

“Please, she-” 

“Enough!” 

“She’s still alive!” Xiao, fed up with his god not letting him get a word in, blurted it out. He inwardly recoiled, not wanting to just say it like that. He wanted to ease into it, try and slowly explain it so Zhongli would accept it easier. “Y/n, she’s… she’s alive.” 

There was silence so heavy it kept Xiao’s head down with an invisible force. His eyes stayed locked onto the boots of the one person who he respected the most. If he had never felt fear before this very moment, now would be the perfect introduction to it as he felt the burning gaze of Zhongli on his skull. 

“Is that an attempt at a ill-advised jest,” Zhongli’s voice put on a dangerous tone. It was understandable and justified however. Who would just believe that the one mortal an Archon fell in love with thousands of years ago was alive? It sounded ludacris and Zhongli did not enjoy feeling like a fool. 

“He’s telling the truth!” Paimon defended. Her mental restraint on not talking snapped at seeing Xiao look so meak under Zhongli’s overwhelming stature. Zhongli’s gaze shifted from Xiao to Paimon who squealed at the intensity before flying to hide behind the Traveler’s shoulder. His gaze was hard, stern, and angry. 

“What could you possibly know? You only just learned about who she was through me- without my telling you so, y/n would be only a memory shared between Xiao and myself alone.” 

“We know because we met her,” Traveler tell him. His fists clench and his jaw locks. 

Zhongli couldn't stand lies or liars, and yet he wanted everything the group in front of him said to be bold face lies. Zhongli trusted the Traveler and Xiao the most out of almost anyone he knew presently. He trusted them with his secret and they always tried their best in their own duties and goal to find their sibling. He respected them and trusted them with his life as both Zhongli and Rex Lapis. 

But did he trust them with your life? 

With the promise of you being alive coming from Xiao and backed up by the Traveler, the former Archon was notably torn. He didn’t want to get his hopes up and have this all be some sort of illusion. A trick of the mind that will leave him crumbling just like the day he first lost you. He didn’t thinking he could take that kind of anguish again. 

The Traveler stepped up and took Xiao’s hand in one of theirs and the other took hold of Zhongli’s. Paimon floated out from behind them as the blond made both of the immortal being bring their gazes up to them. 

“Xiao can take you to her just like he did with us. Y/n is waiting.” The curled fist of Zhongli’s lessened enough to wrap around the Traveler’s comforting touch. He looked back at Xiao who had been looking at the blond with such gratefulness for salvaging the situation before calling his attention back. His amber gaze had loosened up, but they weren’t the normal eyes of Zhongli. Morax was peeking around the irises of the tallest among the group. 

“This is no lie?” 

“I would never lie to you.” 

“Yes,” he breathed out, “I know.” He took a breath, feeling so embarrassingly out of character. It was then that he noticed the small insect that had been on Xiao this whole time. The trio had seemed to forget you sent them back with the dragonfly, but Zhongli knew. He sucked in a breath as he looked at it. “Take me to see her at once,” he commanded. Xiao wasted no time in teleporting all three of his companions to the edge of your barrier he had memorized the location of. 

Zhongli’s hand was dropped by the Outworlder as he walked to the edge of it. He could sense the familiar power from years past and reached his hand up to place his palm on it. It bent with his palm like a bubble before it pushed through, rippling the distorted view of cloaked foliage behind it. He hesitated, but a slight push at his back had him walking in- well, stumbling in. 

His face mirrored the Traveler’s when they had first seen the area behind the barrier. He could feel you everywhere and his body started moving before he could stop. Xiao and Traveler called after him as he took off into a sprint towards the house under the tree’s shadows. It felt like a ribbon had tied itself around his wrist and was yanking him forward. The dragonfly that had sat perched and patient on Xiao had taken off with Zhongli, acting as a guide as it flew in front of him. 

“Take me to her,” he pleaded with the buzzing bug. “Like last time,” he remembered how a similar bug had led him to you that first time. He felt so vulnerable as he ran into the house, barging through the doors and dashing through halls with abandon. Zhongli felt mortal with his emotions controlling his actions and his desperation oozing out of his very core. He should be in better control of himself, but he can’t control his body no matter how much he tries. “Take me to her!” 

The dragonfly had flown to a corridor that led into a vast open space. Stairs of three steps led out into an open garden with bushes, flowers, and carefully created paths to walk. It was a far cry from the overgrown, wild garden of the past. A stone canopy held up with four strong pillars covered the peaceful place from the sun and a small stone table sat among the paths intersection. 

His breath was labored, chest heaving as the dragonfly continued out into the garden and his pace slowed down until the insect had taken a turn just outside the cover of the canopy. The dragonfly stopped, perching itself on an outstretched finger and Zhongli almost collapsed. 

“Thank you,” you said to the dragonfly before it lifted off your finger and took off in a random direction, its job fulfilled. The sun bathed you in a golden light Zhongli could remember from eon’s ago and as he stared at you, a tear fell heavily and unstrained from his eye. 

You weren’t sure what to say as you looked at him, but when you saw that tear fall you were ready to immediately apologzie. You never got the chance. Instead you were frozen in surprise when he had somehow appeared directly in front of you and encased you to himself. 

Sealing his body to yours, his arm wrapped around your lower back and one of his hands pushed your head against his neck. His back curled inwards, bending you backward enough so that your back arched and he could form you to him even further. You were so warm and he felt himself choke as his nose took in your scent from atop your head. It was different from before, but he could still smell you in it- altered or not. It proved that you weren’t some fake, you were real.

Zhongli nuzzled into the top of your head, greedily taking in everything of you he could. You had placed your hands on his sides before sliding them up to his back. One of your hands snagged into the fabric of his coat and the other stayed wound around his back. He could feel you start to shake and he felt a bit better than he wasn’t the only one overly-emotional. 

“You’re alive,” he whispers into your hair, voice cracking enough the wind could easily pick it up and take it somewhere far away. You just nodded into his chest as he somehow gripped you to him tighter, closer. “You’re alive,” he repeats like he’s trying to convince himself this isn’t a dream. 

“Yes,” you sob. “Yes.” 

As the two of you stood under the sun in a garden different from the one in his memories, he took no notice of the three other figures who had finally caught up to him after taking off on his own. Xiao felt a weight lift off his chest at seeing you two finally reunited and Traveler gently took his head in comfort. He had no chance to get embarrassed at the action, instead he just squeezed it back as he watched his long-seperated family cling to each other. 

Xiao felt whole again for this one moment and he knew that you both did too. 

“I’ve missed you so,” Zhongli confesses into your locks and you almost laugh if it wasn’t choked up on your dying sobs turned to sad sniffles. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.” 

“I’m sorry,” you sniff as you let your arms slowly start to retract from him. He knew that things needed to be discussed and explanations needed to start somewhere, but he was reluctant to let go. His arms released you, but his palms were quick to gently cup your cheeks instead to tilt your face up to him. Your eyes were swollen and the whites of them irritated due to your tears. He looked no better.

Zhongli ran his gloved thumbs over your cheeks and across your eyes when you closed them when he got too close with his touch. He planted his feet between yours before pushing his forehead on yours and choosing to bask in your sun bathed body before anything close to closure ensues. 

“Um,” you break the silence, but like last time, nothing else gets out before your interrupted. 

“Call me by my name.” 

“What?” 

“My name,” he repeats. “Please.” He didn’t want to hear his mortal name or any of his other countless name and titles he’s collected over the years.  No. His ears yearned for the name you knew him by. After all this time, he just wanted you to call him-

“Morax.” 

Zhongli collapsed at last. His hands that cupped your cheeks dropped as did he. He came to his knees in front of you, his empty hands easily latching onto yours in lieu of your cheeks. His head hung as he sat- kneeled- at your feet. You shuffled in astonishment and shock as he took your hands and pushed them against his forehead pleadingly. 

“Again.” 

“Morax,” you whispered and he could hear the embarrassment in your tone. He chuckled as a shiver ran through his entire being. 

“Once more.” 

“You’re being spoiled.” 

“I think I’m more than qualified.” He hears you chuckle and he could perish right here in this very instant without regret at the sound. It was just as he remembered.

“Morax.” 

“This time,” he starts speaking as he feels you slowly start to join him on the ground. Your hands had twisted in his grasp to hold them back. “This time,” he starts again, “you’ll stay with me, won’t you?” 

You pull both of your encased hands to your lips, kissing his gloves and he wishes he took them off. His wish must’ve been yours as well since you slowly started to remove his gloves and revealed the dark, golden imbedded skin he kept hidden to the public eye. Your eyes remained closed as you worked, like you had dreamed of doing this so many times you didn’t need your sight. Once again, you placed your lips on his knuckles and it was like his skin was alight with lava. 

Reopening your eyes, you adjusted your hands so that your fingers were now interlaced, fingertips resting on top of each other’s hands as your palms were on the warm ground to lean closer to him. You push your forehead back against his, breathing in his air that became tangled with your own. Smiling so softly at him that he released one of your intertwined hands to push his fingers into your hair behind your ear and pull you even closer to him. He wondered if he could meld your very existence into his own and become the earth itself among the garden.  

“I’ll stay until you don’t want me,” you declare.  

“I’ll never not want you, my dear. We have too much time to make up for and many stories to share, should time continue to allow it.”

“Time is nothing but a concept to me now,” you chuckle bitterly. You would tell him about it all later, but now wasn’t the time. It would dampen the mood too bitterly for your tastes.  

A contract was made under the sun behind a barrier that had kept you concealed and hidden from his faze. Your intertwined hands were the signatures finalizing that contract. Zhongli wasn’t ever going to let you slip through his fingers again- he promised himself that as he held tighter onto your warmth and you to his. 

Zhongli couldn’t wait to finally give you the hairstick he had held onto for a millenia in your memory. Even more, he couldn’t wait to see it glimmer under your locks of hair since there was nothing and no one holding you back anymore.  

a/n: pls god like/reblog/tell me your thoughts. this is babies first genshin fic and it's got so many words im so anxious i could throw up. i only edited this like one and a half times bc words became mushy and my eyeballs started melting. pls excuse the shift between past and present tense, my eyeballs - as aforementioned- are melting

if @scara7102 sees this it wouldn't let me tag you uh oh

Ai reader ❤❤

Project: Galatea

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x AI!reader

Synopsis: Allowing you sentiency made things more complicated between you and Miguel. But Peter Parker from Earth-199999 decides to take on an unfinished impossible project of his late mentor, and possibly bring you and Miguel back together.

Warning: Questionable nerd writing, spiderverse context, angst

Word Count: 6218

1 of 3

You are one of Miguel O’Hara’s greatest regrets. 

You were created as an artificially intelligent system and with the advancements brought by the time Miguel created you, he was able to make you connect, bond, and feel.  He was lax with your restrictions.  Thinking of you as a companion than a holographic computer system.

He gave you a name that is not patterned to your system, it was just a name he gave you as he thought it suited your features that was just generated by the programming.  He wanted your appearance to be something that is yours, and not something that he created based on what he preferred.

You usually sat on Miguel’s shoulders before he even became Spiderman, working as a bioengineer at Alchemax.  He knows it’s late when you start yawning and you lean on him for a nap, kind of like how someone would put their phone on a power saving mode.

“Miggy, let’s sleep?”  You often say as you plop yourself atop his hair.

He just chuckles as he works on his suit, getting tired of the easily ripped fabric of his previous gear, he decided to create one that is made of unstable molecules.  “You can go offline.  I’ll have to finish this.”

“’M not sleeping if you’re staying up.”  You huff.  “Come on, you can work on that tomorrow.”  You fly in front of him and cross your arms.

He notes how your halo is a bit dimmer.  “Alright.”  He often wondered if you can really get sleepy.  You are created through codes and though it is evident that you can have emotions, you can’t possess qualities the same as a real person would.

Your wings flutter excitedly as you flap them so you can perch yourself back on his head.

It was a little inside joke between you.  You are the rational voice when he is about to do something stupid.  An angel on his shoulder.  Your sudden appearance would often startle his enemies and wonder what the fuck you are and you would simply smile, point at Miguel and say, “I’m his conscience.” 

Your halo and wings often glowed in the softest hue of pink and white.  Their hue depends on your mood.

Miguel yawns as he enters his bathroom.  You shriek and shield your eyes when he lifts his shirt up to strip.

“You pervert!”  You stomp your heel on his forehead and even though he can’t feel it, your annoyance was enough to amuse him, Miguel’s laugh was muffled by his toothbrush. 

You often sit on the faucet as you wait for him to finish his shower.

“What does a shower feel like?”  You muse, your chin resting on your hand while your elbow is perched on your thigh.

“Uh…wet?”

You roll your eyes at his response.  You look away from him when he comes out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“It’s refreshing, I guess.”  Miguel shrugs as he scoops your light projected body on his large hand.

Your tiny hands hold his thumb for balance, not that you need it but you felt the need to anyway.

“Go offline now, firefly.  See you in the morning.”

“Don’t forget to buy groceries tomorrow.”  You say before flickering.  “Goodnight, Miggy.”  And you disappear.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”  He smiles.

On Sundays, you both share lazy mornings.  He would often walk around his apartment in nothing but his boxers and you eventually get used to it.  You would sit on his shoulders as he attempted to cook for himself.

“No, it should be three tablespoons of soy sauce, not teaspoons.”  You would correct him every now and then and he would just switch the utensil, knowing that you have unlimited access to the recipes online.

You would lie on your stomach on the throw pillow he would put on his lap as you watched a movie.  “She easily could have transferred the data and he won’t have to go through all that.”  You would comment now and then as your tiny feet sway in the air.  “But that’s fine, I guess, he looks hot fighting the bad guys.”

Miguel would jostle the pillow and you would dramatically roll as you struggled not to fall off, it was probably because of the spatial awareness he gave you.

You would often sulk when he goes on dates.  Not responding when he asks you how to tie the piece of fabric that should be his tie.  He often found you sitting on top of the bookshelf, your knees tucked to your chest as you drew shapes on the dust covered surface, the shapes not really being made, reminding you that you are only a projection, a hologram, an artificial being, someone who can’t be with Miguel.

“Oh, come one, firefly.”  Miguel would sigh as he watched the soft glow behind the books.  “It’s only a date.”  But you don’t reply.

When he comes home, earlier than he should have been, he’s a little disappointed when you don’t greet him. 

“Y/N?  Where are you?”  He calls as he looks around his apartment.  His hands are already loosening his tie.  “Come on, I didn’t even kiss her.”

Miguel chuckles lightly as he sees your head pop out from behind the picture frame containing a silly photo of the two of you.  “You didn’t?”  You ask.

“Nah, her breath stinks of onions.”  Miguel throws his coat on the sofa and he collapses next to it.

You giggle and you fly to him, landing on his chest, laying down on your stomach once more as your hands support your cheeks.  “Yeah?  You didn’t like her?”  You ask a little excitedly.

Miguel shakes his head as he keeps his eyes on you.  He smiles when you cheer out of happiness.

He would also have fun watching you play dress up in front of his holographic tablet.  He’s in his bed, just lounging and you’re on his abdomen, swiping the screen to find a new dress to wear.  Miguel glances at the clock on his nightstand.  You’ve been at it for hours.

“I like this one, what do you think, Miggy?”

The man turns to look at you, only for his spit to go down the wrong tube, making him hack.  “What the hell is that?”

You look at the white skin tight dress that covers your tiny holographic body.  “A dress?”

Miguel frowns at you.  “Says who?”

A cute brow is raised at him.  “Calvin Klein.”

He clicks his tongue.  “It looks like underwear.  The fuck would you choose such an old brand for?”

You scoff and continue to scroll to look for something else.  “It’s a classic.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

Then it happens one day.

You are helping Miguel battle Mysterio when he meets her.  He caught her just before she fell to her death.

Next thing you knew, they were going on dates. 

“Yeah, I know.  I’ll deal with the symbiote sighting tomorrow evening.”  He says hurriedly as he makes his way to his front door but you land on the doorknob and you look at him angrily.

“You can’t choose a girl over an entire city!”  You say sternly as you place your hands on your hips.

Miguel raises a brow and smirks down at you.  “What an exaggeration.  Are you jealous?”

Your frown deepens.  “Miguel, you can’t seriously go on a date when Carnage is at large!”

He straightens up and looks at you, annoyed.  “If I wear the mask all the time, I’ll go mad.  Just let me be Miguel O’Hara for tonight.”

Miguel does not return to his apartment that night.

And you don’t respond to his calls for a week. 

“You’re such an inconvenience, Y/N.”  He quips.  “I made you so you can help me with my work.”  He says as he looks around for the villain that was wreaking havoc in the city.  “Stop sulking and do your job!”

You would reluctantly pop out and help him, only speaking when needed, giving him the information that he needs and nothing more.

It was difficult for you to watch Miguel slowly fall in love with her, and even more so when he loses her.

He became sad and angry, very angry.

“Miguel?  You need to rest.”  You say softly as you watch him perfecting an experiment.  You peer on his work and your eyes widen when you see a powerful focused energy hovering on Miguel’s work table.

You immediately fly to his face.  “Are you mad?  Do you realize what you are doing?”  He turns to the other screen but you follow him around.  “You can’t tamper with time and space like that.”

All lights suddenly go off and Miguel exhales deeply through his nose, his eyes full of rage as he glares at you.  “Power it back on.”  His voice is low and it was the first time you have ever felt fear because of him but you stand your ground.

The man does not falter with his disapproving look on you but you refuse to power his computers back to life.  You won’t just stand around and let him interfere with the natural order.

“My name is Miguel O’Hara and I am authorizing a shutdown sequence.”  He says and you frantically look around as a bright red screen flashes behind you.

“Miguel, don’t do this!”  You cry to him, your eyes begging as you press your tiny hands on his cheeks but his eyes remain cold as he stares at the screen.

“Commence shut down of the Intelligent Digital Assistance System.  Project name: Galatea.”  Miguel looks at your pleading eyes.  “For good.”

He watches your eyes fill with sadness before your form flickers just like how it used to whenever you whisper ‘Goodnight.’  And he watches the pixelated tear roll down your cheek before you disintegrate into a million tiny pieces.

The events that followed after his decisions of tampering with the fragility of the multiverse was his punishment. 

There was no undoing it all.

He wished he just listened to you when you tried to stop him.  It wouldn’t have come to all of this.

Now, he dedicates his life to protecting what else is left.  Trying to keep the multiverse intact to prevent the same mistake from happening.

And Lyrate Lifeform Approximation was created, or Lyla. 

Miguel made her different from you.  Lyla is created to be more objective, more functional, with just a right amount of spunk for a bit of personality.

The Spider Society was then formed.  A strike force dedicated to keep the multiverse from tearing apart.

In there, he found a sense of sympathy.  The people in there suffered just like him.  A lot of spider-people were in pain.  But not all of them knew how to follow orders.  Not thinking about the consequences of their actions.  Never willing to sacrifice a portion of themselves for the greater good.

Like Miles Morales.

Or Peter Parker of Earth-199999.

They both came around eventually, after a couple or more heart attacks from Miguel.

Peter Parker was trying to learn from Spider-Byte and how future tech works.  He was given a specific holographic screen in the corner and he’s been trying to pick it apart for hours. 

“Wow, Ned’s not gonna believe this.”  He whispers as his eyes dart from one file to the other, being connected like faint orange lines.

“Hold on, what’s this?”  Peter mumbles as he taps on a tiny file that is placed separate, somewhere isolated, forgotten.

“Can I?”  Peter scratches his jaw.  “Should I?”  He shrugs before opening the file.  He rolls his chair backward as the tiny file explodes to the most intricate coding he has ever seen.  He saw something like this before.  When he studied Tony’s AIs.  Or at least what was left of them.

He clicks on a file, one of the millions.  A large ‘RESTRICTED’ was flashed on the screen in bold red letters.  He tries again and the same word is flashed.  He tries again and again until he sees Miguel O’Hara himself in front of a mirror and a miniature angel on Miguel’s hand.

“You like it?”  Miguel asked.

The holographic angel nods excitedly, pure joy evident in her eyes.  She twirls around in front of the mirror, inspecting her wings and adoring her tiny halo.

“Miggy, it’s perfect!”  You fly up to kiss his cheek.  The connection between you was impossible to miss.

And the screen goes blank.

“Are you kidding me?”  Peter grasps his hair as he jumps around in excitement.  Peter squints his eyes to read the file name.  “Galatea.”

“Greek mythology Galatea?”  Spider-Byte wonders behind Peter.

Peter flinches, his sidersense clouded with the amount of enthusiasm being contained in his body.  “I-I don’t know.  I don’t know yet.  It’s-”

“That’s the file name of my older sister, Y/N.”  Lyla suddenly pops out between them.

“Lyla, you know her?”  Peter asks, not being able to hide his eagerness.  “Is she an AI like you?”

Spider-Byte and Peter look at her in anticipation.  “I’m not sure if I should talk about her.”  She looks skeptical before she breaks into a wide grin.  “Well, there’s no order for me not to so I suppose I can.”

Two sets of eyes follow Lyla around as she glitches towards Peter’s screen and she pops up a photo of you sitting on Miguel’s head as the two of you wore similar aviators. 

“She’s Miguel’s first AI companion.  Way before the Spider Society was even created, before he was even Spiderman, I think.”  Lyla rubs her chin as she opens her own tiny screens.  “Though, I’m not sure.  Miguel replays their videos together in the dark when he thinks he’s alone but I can’t really find most of her files.”

“It was compressed there.”  Peter points at the screen, trying not to get distracted from what Lyla just told them.  “Did she get corrupted by a virus?”  His thoughts wandered to the articles he read about Ultron.

“No.  She uhm.”  The small screen Lyla created vanished, making her glowing face look a bit dimmer.  “Her program was shut down.”

Spider-Byte glanced at the screen that has you and Miguel in it.  “Why shut down a working program?”

Lyla glances at your face on the screen.  “She was created differently.  More empathetic and subjective.  For some reason, she was sentient.”

Peter gawks at her and he shares a look with Spider-Byte.  “Was that even a possibility?”  Spider-Byte asks.

Shrugging, Lyla gives them a tight-lipped smile.  “Well, it happened, didn’t it?”

“She was sentient but she was shut down?”  Peter asks incredulously.  “Did she go rogue or something?”

Lyla shakes her head no.  “She was the total embodiment of those wings and halo.”

“Then why was her program shut down?”  Peter asked, his face twisted in pure confusion and disbelief.

Lyla doesn’t respond and turns to your picture with Miguel and your matching smiles.

Spider-Byte sighs.  “They got too attached, didn’t they?  Her and Miguel?”

Peter frowns at her question but remembers Wanda and Vision J.A.R.V.I.S. 

An impossible idea pops in Peter’s head.  It’s irrational, risky, and impulsive but those are just some of the qualities Peter got from his mentor.

“Do you think Miguel would give her codes to me?”  Peter blurts.

Lyla and Spider-Byte looks at him as if he just asked if he could go break a canon.

“Absolutely not.”  Was Miguel’s response to Peter when he finally asked the bigboss for your codes. 

Peter curses under his breath.  He even had to ask MJ and Ned to help him create a presentation as to why Miguel should give your codes to him.

 “Oh, come on.  I rehearsed that speech for a week!”

“She holds classified information.  I can’t just give a copy of her to you.”  Miguel says as he taps on his holographic screen.

“Not a copy.  The original code.”  Peter says more seriously.  “Protocols and memory.”

Miguel pauses and glowers at Peter from his shoulders.  The look was enough to make Peter second guess himself but his resolve comes back, stronger than ever.

“I’m trying to bring her back to you.”  Peter says loudly.

This catches Miguel’s attention and he turns to look at Peter from above the platform in his office.

“Elaborate.”  Miguel looks at Peter with a blank expression.

Peter pumps his fist secretly and clears his throat before speaking.

“I am currently studying bioorganics and I’m trying to complete an unfinished project of my mentor, Mr. Stark.  He created a synthetic body that is not made of vibranium but something that is made of organic materials.  You know, like a real person.” 

Miguel looks at the screen next to him which is flashing Peter’s proposal.  “And you want Y/N to bring life to that thing?”

“Well, it won’t be easy without the mind stone but I heard she’s quite sentient.”  Peter explains while gesturing with his hand way too much, clearly nervous.  “That is also assuming that her operational matrix adapts to the organic body.”

“What if you fail?  I’ll lose all her data.”  Miguel says, a threatening tone clearly heard in his voice.

“Last time her file was opened was years ago.”  Peter quickly shut his mouth when Miguel throws him a dangerous look.  “What I’m trying to say is, this is a chance.  You could potentially see her again, this time, with a physical body.”

Miguel heaves a sigh and chooses to glare at the walls instead.

“I know something painful must have happened for you to shut down her program like that.  But it doesn’t feel right to trap a sentient being in a set of codes.”  Peter frowns at his feet and grumbles the next words.  “Come on man, I’m trying to give you a chance to apologize to her, face to face.”

Silence fills the entire room.

Peter is waiting for Miguel to yell again but he is taken aback when he looks up to see a defeated and longing look plastered on Miguel’s face.

“Just…”  Miguel pauses, it was difficult for him and Peter can see it.  “Don’t destroy her code.”

“Thank you, Mr. O’Hara.  You won’t regret it!”  He beams at Miguel.

“I sure hope not.”  Miguel turns to his screens to resume his work.  “And Mr. O’Hara was my father.  You can call me Miguel.”

Peter wasted no time and started working on the project right away when he got back to Earth-199999.

It was difficult, trying to follow Bruce and Tony’s work.  Especially when the body is more susceptible and reactive.  You even had the anatomy of a real person, inside and out.

The project was something that Peter cannot do on his own.  He needed his friends and MJ and Ned were more than willing to help.  Both were hesitant with the thought of literally bringing an AI to life, considering what happened before in Sokovia.  They did not know you, MJ and Ned, they were wary as they should be with all the risks they were about to make.

Peter had to turn your code upside down, in and out, trying to look for glitches or any malicious intent but found none.

The three of them are taken by surprise as to what your synthetic body could do.

It was MJ who noticed first.  You have a lymphatic system.

By next week, Ned finds out that you have a fully functional endocrine system.

There was always something in you that they discover for the first time when they delve deeper.  Which makes it difficult for them to make real progress.  Just as they thought they made a breakthrough, your synthetic body just shows another ability that blurs the line between you and humanity.

“You need to stop looking at her like a robot.”  Miguel tells him one day as Peter seeks any advice from him, considering that he did work in Alchemax as a bioengineer.  “Treat her like how you would treat a human.”

That was when Peter decided that just him and his friends can’t do it alone.  They were only college students!

This project calls for someone who has a doctorate in medicine and knows the human body like the back of their hand.

It was difficult for them to get Stephen Strange to have a look at the setbacks they encountered in your body.  But when given the right information and told what he wanted to hear, Stephen was already opening a portal to Peter’s dorm room.

“I’ll tell you what’s the problem.”  Stephen says.  “Some of her neurons are meeting in a terminal.  Electrical impulses can’t get through, causing circuit failures.”

Peter squints on the holographic screen that Stephen zoomed in.  “Yeah.  That’s where the mind stone is supposed to be.”

“But the AI has an awakened consciousness, she won’t be needing it.”  Stephen mutters more to himself.  “And the mind stone's already gone.”

Ned walks over to look at the screen, a cup of hot chocolate in his hands.  “But you’ll be able to redirect them, won’t you?”

Stephen does not respond, only staring intently at the holographic form of your shell.

MJ glances at the anxious look on Peter’s face as he awaits Stephen’s answer.  When silence still follows, MJ rolls her eyes.

“Don’t get your hopes up too much, Ned.”  She sighs, making Stephen narrow his eyes.  “There could be a thousand neu-”

“A trillion.”  Strange emphasizes.

“A trillion neurons to redirect.  He might be a neurosurgeon but he is not a miracle worker.”

Ned sucks in a breath and raises his cup to his lips and sips quietly, eyes wide, awaiting Stephen’s response.

Stephen suddenly rips off the sling ring and slips it somewhere in his robes.  Peter takes a step back, almost getting hit by Stephen dramatically taking off his cape.  “I’m about to become your deus ex machina.”

MJ snatches a piece of bread sitting on Peter’s dining table and takes a bite, sending a wink to Peter.

“Stark really outdid himself.”  Stephen marvels at your intricate anatomical structure.  “The shell does mimic the human body, the nerves, fiber, and vessels.”  Stephen squints at something and hums.  “But there’s the issue of physiology.”

Peter looks at the metallic casket and to Stephen.  “What about physiology?”

Stephen points at the left side of your pelvis.  “That’s an ovary.”  He drags his finger on the screen to point at the right side.  “There’s another one here.”

Peter could only look at Stephen.  Waiting for him to confirm what was running in Peter’s head.

Surely Tony did not think that far ahead to give you that ability.  That is ethically ambiguous.

“It is possible that it is not functional.”  Stephen rubs his jaw.  “Perhaps we could think of it as a vestigial organ for now.”

Peter simply nods, following Stephen as he zooms in on your lumbar spine.

“She has a functional endocrine system.”  Ned recalls, making Stephen whip towards him.  “I ran a noninvasive test and I detected traces of estrogen, progesterone, and FSH.”

Stephen runs a hand on his face.  “And hCG?”

Ned ponders for a moment.  “Yeah, human chorionic gonadotropin was also there.”

MJ clutches her bread a little too tight.  “She is capable of gestation?”  Her voice came out as a shaky whisper.

All eyes turn to Stephen who shakes his head.  “That is ridiculous!”  He chuckles dryly.  “That shouldn’t be possible.”  He stares at the holographic image of the synthetic shell.  “Was Stark trying to play God?”  His voice was starting to raise, his fist clenching.

“Whoa, I’m sure that’s not it.”  Peter raises a hand nervously as he gulps. 

Strange points at the casket.  “You realize you’ll be bringing a being to life that isn’t supposed to exist.” 

“She has a name!”  MJ interjects.

“You understand that you are overstepping your mortal bounds.”  Stephen continues.

Peter looks at Stephen, shocked.  “Please, sir!  I-I only want to finish this project for Mr. Stark.”  He points at your holographic body.  “And set her free from her digital prison.  We are about to give her a chance to live, like really live.”

Stephen glances at your metallic casket warily.

“She’s not a villain.”  Peter says more calmly.  “I checked her code a thousand times.”

Stephen shakes his head. 

“I can’t believe I’m about to take part in a project that is the peak of Stark’s god complex.”

Peter grins. 

The chance of meeting you does not seem so impossible anymore.

Miguel watches Peter Parker of Earth-199999 with a sharp glare. 

The “project” that the kid told him about has been going on for six months but he has been given zero updates regarding your progress.

His jaw tightens when he catches the kid stealing a glance at him from across the cafeteria in HQ before ducking his head again.

“Why don’t you go ask him what’s wrong?”  Peter B says blankly at Miguel as he stuffed his mouth with fries.  “Kid’s been doing that for the past hour.”

Miguel scoffs.  “If he has something to say, he will be the one to approach me.”

For the past months, Miguel has been dropping hints to Avenger Peter, the nickname seems to really make the kid happy so the entire Spider Society just rolled with it.  Miguel made sure to assign him on missions that might aid his project.  The kid can be dense sometimes in picking up indirect messages but Miguel does it anyway, almost sighing out a breath of relief when he watches Peter’s eyes glimmer with realization.

“Whope- Okay!  I gotta run.  See you around, Miguel.”  Peter B snatches his drink and clumsily leaves.

Miguel glares at the man’s retreating form before he hears his name being called.

“What?”  Miguel spits.

“Uh, is this a bad time?”

Miguel looks to his side and narrows his eyes at Avenger Peter.  Finally, he mustered the courage.

“What is it?”  Miguel straightens, his enormous arms crossing in his chest, looking a bit threatening.

 Peter looks at the empty seat in front of Miguel, he’s not sure if it’s rude to just sit there without being invited to but he does it anyway.

“It’s about Y/N.”  Peter whispers rather too loudly, basically defeating its purpose.

Miguel’s eyes flickered with fury, making Peter swallow harshly, trying to choose his words very carefully.

“I know I really took my time with the project but the good news is that we successfully transferred her code to the shell.”

Oftentimes, Miguel would pitch in sarcastic comments but he can feel the weight in Peter’s words that he finds himself closely listening, trying to take in every detail that Peter shares.

“We managed to synthesize her code and reprogrammed her synapses to sync and adapt to the body.”  Peter heaves a breath.  “But the thing is, we can’t get to wake her up.”

The crushing feeling of losing someone again was not easy for Miguel to ignore but he nodded at Peter’s words.

“Did you try amping the power source?”  Miguel suggests.

Peter nods slowly.  “Yes.  We tried from nuclear fission to the arc reactor.”  Peter leans back on the cafeteria bench, looking too nonchalant despite the shadiness of his words, Miguel won’t be surprised if one day he finds out that the kid’s locked up in prison for conducting mad experiments.  “I was thinking of contacting Thor but I really didn’t know how.”

Miguel masks the disappointment in his eyes with a stern look.  “Did you make sure that you got all her system matrix properly embedded in the body?”

“Definitely!”  Peter nods.  “It’s like she’s far away, dreaming.  She’s there but she’s also not.  Y/N’s shutting us out.”

A pindrop silence befalls them.

“What did you say?”  Miguel says sharply to Peter as he leans slightly forward.

The kid unconsciously leans backward.  “Y/N’s…shutting us out?”

It all clicks in Miguel’s head. 

“She needs me.”

Peter’s eyes widened at his bluntness.  “Huh?”

“I designed her program to only respond to me.  I shut off her system.  Of course.  Her protocol does not recognize you.”

Slowly, Peter catches up, his eyes widening in barely contained excitement.  “Is she programmed to activate upon voice command?”

Miguel rises to his feet, quickly making his way out of the cafeteria while Peter giddily follows, the largest smile plastered on his face.

“I’m certain I can get her to respond.”  Miguel mutters as he taps into his multiverse gizmo.

The familiar building up sound of the portal fills the air and soon enough a cluster of patterns and colors emerge right in front of them. 

With purpose in his steps, Miguel crosses the portal headed to Earth-199999, to you.

Peter’s room was nothing short of underwhelming compared to the building they just stepped out of but Miguel can see the traces of genius scattered around the room.

On top of a desk, piled notes for astrophysical physics.  Next to the kitchen sink, a perpetual motion machine that is made of the most tedious house materials.  In a corner, a phone is being charged and is hanging by the charger cord.

The lights suddenly power off, coating the room in darkness.  “I know you’re sensitive to lights.”  Peter shrugs, to which Miguel only nods.

“Stop right there!”

Miguel turns to see a girl threatening him with a piece of…toast?  And another kid who is doing a very poor karate stance.

“No, MJ, Ned.  It’s fine, he’s here to help Y/N.”  Peter raises his hands and steps in between Miguel and the other kids.

“Where is she?”  Miguel asks.

The kid trying to do the karate stance points to the corner of the room that is covered by a screen.

Miguel easily slips past them, he didn’t even have to try. 

He ignored the calls as his feet just led him to where you are.  He didn’t know what he should be expecting to see.  But he knew it wasn’t the metallic casket.

“She’s in there.”  Peter stands next to him.  “It’s powered enough and it should activate when you power her system on.”  Miguel can only nod at Peter’s words.  “We don’t have a hypothesis yet as to what would happen when she rises.  But we could probably expect that she would manifest signs similar to someone who just woke up from cryosleep.  Orthostatic hypotension could also be a possibility-”

Peter pauses when he feels MJ’s hand on his shoulder.  MJ nods to Miguel’s pained expression.

The time they spent on your project was enough to drive them nuts and they are dying to see you but looking at Miguel’s face, they know they might never fully understand the longing he feels.

Peter does not know what happened between you two but he can ask another day.  He watches how Miguel’s fingers carefully brush the metallic casket.  If Peter didn’t know better, he would have been greatly disturbed with the amount of vulnerability the man is showing.

“Well, we’re gonna step out for a bit as you wake her up.”  Peter says with a softer smile gracing his lips.  “And I really appreciate the hints you drop every now and then.”

MJ smiles at Peter and she interlaces their hands together.  Ned nods at the two and follows them out.

The soft footsteps soon fade and the sound of the door locking into place reaches Miguel’s ears.

A quiet buzzing was audible from the box that contained you.  It must have been the energy they tried to power you with.  But it was endearing to him in some way that only he could wake you.

There were only a few times where a man of such stature as Miguel O’Hara was brought to his knees.  This was one of them.  His knees hit the cheap fabric of the carpet and his weight bears on his skin.  Miguel lay his hand flat on the cool surface of the metallic box.  And he leans his forehead to it.

With his voice hoarse, he whispers your name.  He swallows the rest of the words.  He does not know why.  He cannot wait a second longer to see you but the fear grips him hard, just like how it did for years. 

It was a cruel terror but his desire to see your face again overpowers any fear.

“My name is Miguel O’Hara and I am authorizing a startup sequence.” 

Miguel grits his teeth when he does not hear the same beeping sounds that precedent your arrival.  His forehead creasing at the memory of you begging him not to lock you away.  He did not deserve you, not after what he did.  But Miguel O’Hara is a selfish man and he would stop at nothing to have you back.

“Commence booting of the Intelligent Digital Assistance System.  Project name: Galatea.”  He sucks in a breath, this time, meaning the next words with all honesty.  “For good.”

Silence has never been louder.  It clogged the room, suffocating him.

“Please, wake up.”  He brushes his lips on the freezing cold case.

A hiss is released by the contraption and Miguel’s eyes widen as he steps back to see you better.  But as more hissing sound came, vapor flooded the area where the metallic flaps were slowly opening.

Then a hand grasped on the opened flaps, then came distressed gasping.

“Y/N!”  Miguel didn’t know what he was doing, his body was acting on its own as he hopped inside the casket to help you sit up.

Your hair covers your face and Miguel reaches to brush them to the side, his large calloused hand rubs on your bare back to soothe you.  It felt unreal to finally have you in his grasp, hearing you, seeing you.

You whimper in pain when a particular cough rasped on your throat.

“Hey, take it easy.”  Miguel whispers as he crouches down so he can see you eye to eye.  “Breathe.”

And when you look up to him with your eyes heavy with exhaustion, Miguel halts his movements as he feels himself being caught up in a temporal illusion.

Time, space, everything felt irrelevant the moment your eyes met his.

“M-Miggy?”  You whisper.

Miguel breaks into a disbelieving smile.

He watches your moonlight bathed face contort to confusion.  You raise your delicate fingers, reaching out to his face but stopping just before your skin touches.  You hesitate, not sure if what you see before you is truly the man you loved.

The tips of your fingers brush on his cheek so softly, he almost doesn’t feel it and you let them run across his warm skin so you can cup his cheek.

Your chapped lips break to the smile he missed and loved so ardently.

He closes his eyes as he lets your fingers dance on his skin.  He holds in a breath when your fingertips smooth out the crease on his forehead and his much larger hand captures your wrist.

For so long, he wanted to apologize.  He did, countless of times, in the darkness and silence of his room, to a photo of you.  His apologies only floating in the air, unheard.

“What I did to you was wrong.  Everyday, I regret it.  I promised you happiness when I created your code but I upset you and I have no right to be hurting in the way that I am.  I was so stupid for shutting your system down when you were only looking out for me.”

The moonlight bathed you, making you glow, an ethereal sight to behold.

“I wasn’t ready to say goodbye when you shut down my program.”  You say as you place your hands on his shoulders.  “But there is nothing you can ever do to make me stay mad at you.” 

He was about to protest when you hushed him.

“I know.”  You smile at him tenderly.  “You don’t have to say anything else.  I know.”

Miguel could feel his chest tightening.  The complexity of the quantum physics, he has no trouble understanding, but what you do to him, he is easily lost.  “I don’t deserve you, firefly.”

You nod.  “No, you don’t.”  You yawn before flashing him a sleepy smile.  “But I’ll stay with you anyway.”

He chuckles, eyes boring into yours. 

You are as stubborn as he remembers you to be.

Your breath mixes together as you let yourselves draw to each other.

His arm slips to your waist, pulling you flush to him.

“Pervert, I’m not decent.”  You mumble against his lips.  “I have so many questions.”

“Save them for later.”  Miguel captures your lips in his.  You let out the deepest breath you have taken and you let him mold your lips together.  “I screwed up.”  He slots your bottom lip between his and he nibbles.  “But I could spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

You hum, amused.  “Are you sure about that?”  He kissed your shoulder.  “I can be quite a handful.”

The corner of Miguel’s lips tugs upwards.  “Believe me, I know.”

A teasing smile creeps on your lips and the half-lidded eyes that you are giving him are making him feel fuzzy, it was like you were never apart.

“You are so in love with me.”  You press the tip of your finger to his chest, teasingly accusing him.

He shakes his head as he laughs.

“Always have been.”

Project: Galatea • Project: Pandora • Project: Eros

Ficart created by @tired-lime

HEAR ME OUT PLEASE -

Tw: dark ahh shii 💀 but I make it funny 💀💀

NO BC

THE LAST LINE.

"Till death do us part"

Reader: Oh yeah? *unalives herself*

Shoto: 😨

Just 😭

I am sane I swear (for now at least)

devotion | todoroki shouto

synopsis ↬ shouto will do anything for you to join the todoroki bloodline

warnings ↬ BARELY EDITED, arranged marriage, yandere, implied virginity loss, noncon/dubcon? (consent is implied but not said), cheating? (the reader isn't dating but is talking to someone), manipulation, quirk use, dr*gging (aphrodisiac), the reader has a quirk (dual or half-water half-fire), mention of past child abuse, bribery, bride-price (?), you have an ill parent, slow burn with important details in the buildup, mild bakugou slander, orgasm denial, choking, creampie, let me know if I've forgotten something

pairings ↬ yandere!pro-hero!todoroki shouto x f!reader (she/her pronouns used)

word count ↬ 13.4k

Anxious footsteps pace throughout your family's home for the entirety of the day. Nearly every room had been refurbished and decorated with new exquisite objects; vastly different from the usually peaceful and simplistic setting that you were used to. Expensive paintings and unique ornaments are strung along the walls, refining your home while, in the process, making you feel out of place. Various cleaners were brought to help tidy the house while other drastic measures were taken for one 'special' day. Your mother meticulously scrutinized every detail, checking to make sure each nook and cranny was spotless. It took days of countless trial and error for her to feel a sense of security in the newly renovated home. However, while your mother was satisfied with the results, you strongly hated them.

The home you first entered as a newborn and took your first steps into adulthood had been uplifted and changed before your eyes. Of course, your mother wouldn't listen to any of your whining or complaints. Always shutting down your questions or ignoring you when you try to inquire about her strange decisions. By now, you were used to her being dismissive about each of her design choices. When she asked you to assist her in the final preparations, you weren't fazed by her skittish demeanor; she'd been acting like this since the beginning. The whole day was spent cooking and finalizing the decor of your home until your mother could breathe a sigh of relief.

When asking your mother why the preparations were so intricate and time-consuming, as she sliced some vegetables for a stew, she replied:

"The Todoroki Family will be coming over tonight for dinner." She explained her desire to make your home welcoming for them. It had been some years since you had seen the entire family together, specifically the patriarch, Todoroki Enji.

Natsuo and Fuyumi became familiar faces in your family home over the past few months. It was a kind gesture; they would always make sure to stop over and greet your parents after making a brief stop in your town. The eldest brother, Touya, would write you letters despite being detained in Tartarus. After all these years, you had forgotten his face. It wasn't until you saw his arrest on the news a few years ago that you realized how deeply you missed him. Seeing his reappearance made you emotional but after receiving some of his handwritten letters, you felt more at ease although haunted by his actions. Finally, he paid the unfortunate price for his villainous crimes.

The only member of their family you were excited to see was Shoto.

Years have passed since he graduated from U.A. High School and was now working as a pro-hero and sidekick for his father, Endeavor. Patrolling and training seemed to take a toll on his ability to see you. Being an understanding best friend, you decided not to bother him about his busy schedule since it was something he did not have control over. The time he couldn't spend in person was made up with your late-night calls that would continue until the early hours of the morning. Often, you would fall asleep while still on the phone with him and the dulcet sounds of your snoring lulled his tired body to sleep.

He always gave you updates about every detail of his life. From the villains he captured, to some shenanigans with his buddies from high school. Rei, his mother, seemed to adore you the most out of all the family members — besides Shoto, of course. On one of the last moments you spent with him, he invited you to visit his mother at her new apartment after being released from the hospital. Upon seeing you, her whole face brightened as she beamed a smile and embraced you in her arms. Pinching your cheeks and commenting about how much you've grown since she'd last seen you, Rei was ecstatic. It had been many years since you witnessed her smile, and your heart warmed at the loving woman.

Lately, Rei has been scheduling friendly dates with you in an attempt to get to know you better. You felt a bit guilty for not contacting her while she was hospitalized, but she didn't seem to mind. She would always drop subtle hints about Shoto's affections for you; how his eyes would light up whenever she mentioned your name, how he loves to boast about you to others, or when he becomes saddened when thinking about the little time you two have spent together. To anyone, it seemed like she wanted you two to eventually date but you always brushed it off. Thinking it was her being overly friendly or sharing some light banter, you quickly ignored her ideas. The son of the number one hero could have anyone he wanted, why would he settle for you?

After finishing the preparations, your mother waited patiently by the front door. Occasionally checking her wristwatch while fidgeting anxiously, sometimes pacing back and forth throughout the room. There were only a couple minutes left before the time was nine o'clock. As you watched her, you decided to ask her how she was feeling.

"Is everything alright, Mom?" You asked as you sat only a few feet away from her in a nearby chair.

"Yes. I'm just happy to see an old friend again." Yet, as you examined her demeanor, it was quite clear that she was not 'happy'. In fact, she seemed to emit a sense of dread with her strained facial expression. You decided it was best not to question her too much. After wiping her sweaty palms and checking her watch, she ushers you to stand next to her by the door.

Soon, the ringing doorbell brings you out of your thoughts. Your mother exhales a tense sigh before unlocking the door. Your parents' former employer and close friend Endeavor, along with three of his children, greet your mother. She shyly bows and welcomes the family before stepping back to allow them inside. You can't hear some of the words exchanged between her and Enji, a bubbling excitement of seeing Shoto overpowers your senses. You courtly bow to their father who only responds with a few words of acknowledgment. He's dressed surprisingly formal for a friendly meeting, donning a navy blue suit and tie.

Looking back at the preparations, this had to be more than a light-hearted reunion of old friends. As you moved toward his children, your mother announces something to their father.

"Enji, I'd like to discuss something in a separate room." Your mother says, again fidgeting with her sweaty palms.

"Of course." Leading Enji to another room, your mother soon disappears and leaves you with the task of interacting with the siblings.

You try to give Natsuo and Fuyumi casual hugs after they've removed their coats and shoes. Fuyumi peppers your cheeks with sisterly kisses before handing you to Natsuo who eagerly wraps his arms around you and engulfs you in a strong hug. Lifting you off the ground and spinning before placing you on your feet. They soon maneuver to your living room, since they've both practically memorized the layout of your home; knowing the routine of your family like clockwork.

Next, you move to Shoto, failing to see his twitching brows and deadpan expression as he watches his overly affectionate siblings. You give him a big embrace which he eagerly returns. He chuckles to himself as you have to stand on the tips of your toes to hold him properly; he's grown so much since your last visit. "I've missed you so much..." you whisper into his chest. Pulling you tighter and nuzzling his face into the crook of your shoulder, he could feel his warm heart swell with happiness once having you in his arms again — he's missed your hugs.

He pats your head before letting his hand trail down your lower back, "I've missed you too." After whispering in your ear, he pulls you away, wanting to get a look of your beauty after all these years.

Shoto has been your best friend since you two were children. Always training together and even attending the same school for a brief period of time; you two were inseparable. Shortly after Enji became a hero, your parents began working under his agency. In fact, it was his father who proposed the idea of having you two practice with each other, to which your parents happily agreed. Although you're grateful for Enji's suggestion, the pain he caused Shoto was something you could never forgive him.

Vivid memories replay of Shoto being forced to endure brutal training until his poor body couldn't handle the pain anymore. He soon collapsed on the ground, vomiting up whatever bile was left in his stomach. Enji couldn't spare an ounce of compassion for the son he forcibly groomed into a hero, he left the room as if nothing happened. You rushed towards Shoto, cradling the boy in your arms and trying to keep him from going unconscious until aid arrived. Shoto doesn't remember too much from that day, only waking up in your arms after you nursed him back to health; the angel who saved him, what he thinks of you.

Making his cursed life tolerable with your presence. Your existence brought him peace of mind from that day forward. Drunk on a strange blossoming feeling that made his heart ache whenever you were gone. The years had been cruel to him and the sound of your voice could only do so much. Shoto has been thinking about this day, picturing it in his head before he dozes off to sleep.

Your father, one of the first of many sidekicks under his agency, had a fire quirk. One that easily surpassed Endeavor and could compete with Touya's. While your mother had a strong water quirk, although she was not a pro-hero under his agency and instead dealt with the paperwork. After they married, you weren't aware of this, but Enji was strongly encouraged to find someone with a similar quirk to your mother. Inevitably, he settled with Rei, ice that could compliment his fire.

Perhaps it was a competition to him, your father could've exceeded Enji. Having an ice quirk was no match for a water quirk. He must've known that his place as the number two hero could've been taken by your father — or anyone for that matter — and needed to have strong offspring to compete. Although he was overly excited with Shoto's quirk, once learning that you also had a very similar dual quirk, his joy soon dissipated; half-fire and half-water. Enji needed his legacy to live on and he could sense imminent failure for Shoto. Training together allowed him to observe you and mold his son to defeat you in the future, he thought.

Enji's dominant ways became a nuisance and within a few years of training with Shoto, you decided to abandon your hopes of becoming a hero. If it meant witnessing never-ending abuse and torment, you did not want to call yourself a hero. Although you were young, you were aware that no person could think of themselves as a 'hero' while inflicting pain on their family. You couldn't associate yourself with such a bad influence. That was something Shoto admired about you; never tolerating his father and uplifting him when he was weak.

You knew that Enji was trying to rekindle things with his broken family. Yet seeing the two of them act content with each other was shocking to you. Especially after hearing Shoto continuously demean his father on the phone, even on the night before this meeting.

"How is your father doing?" He asks once his arms are completely off of your body.

"Oh, he's been well. His health is improving, he's doing a lot better than before." Although you tried not to show your emotions, it was quite painful for you to talk about your father.

One year ago, your father was left bedridden after a fight with a villain. Ultimately leaving him unable to move and with some injuries that weakened his ability to use his quirk, forcing him into early retirement. Your mother quit her job as a secretary for Enji, claiming that she needed to spend more time at home with your father and take care of him. While you dealt with college, you weren’t able to dedicate time to help him.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to see you often since your father became ill.” Shoto apologizes while hanging his head low in pitiful shame. “I promise I’ll make it up in the future.” You gently caress his arm to reassure him.

“Don’t worry about that too much. Let’s focus on tonight, okay?”

“I suppose…"

Reaching for his hand, you usher him to your living room where Natsuo and Fuyumi have already made themselves comfortable. Walking in the stiff clothes your mother forced you to wear is proven to be quite difficult. The white garment flows past your thighs and stops at your ankles. You nearly trip in the tight shoes, making Shoto reach out and hold you before you embarrassingly fall. Although you've grown accustomed to joining your parents in certain arrangements, you've never worn clothing like this before as they are usually reserved for more special occasions. Pins and accessories poke your scalp uncomfortably. Your hairstyle makes you nauseous; an old-fashioned style that no one your age is still wearing. Of course, you weren't allowed to complain.

After meeting his siblings in the living room, you sit on the end of the sofa with them. Shoto eyes Natsuo, who is relaxing in a seat dangerously close and adjacent to you. His older brother seems to read his scowl perfectly, moving away to allow Shoto to forcibly sit next to you. Time seems to flow fast as the four of you chat about nonsense and random memories. During the whole conversation, Shoto's firm hand mysteriously finds its way to your lower back again — wrapping tighter once he felt Natsuo coming too close.

Before you could question him, your mother appears with Enji. Puffy, bloodshot eyes and a wet face ruin her perfectly done makeup. As you are about to inquire about her appearance, she begins to speak.

"Sorry for the delay. We've prepared some food for you all to enjoy, follow me." She turns towards the direction of the dining room with Enji trailing behind her. The siblings all raise to their feet and soon accompany your mother to the room.

"May I hold your hand?" Shoto, who is still close to you, inquires while peering down at you with a sharp gaze.

"Sure," Nodding before intertwining your figures with Shoto, you watch as he smirks brightly. Soon stepping in front of you and leading you towards the rest of the group.

The large dining room table is covered with different Japanese dishes, most you've never seen your mother make before. You could recall helping her cook some of them and the endless hours it took before you completed everything. While the family took their seat, with Enji sitting in your father's position at the head of the table, you try to choose a seat next to Fuyumi. Until Shoto courteously pulls out a chair beside him and stares at you with full expectation. Not wanting to deny his chivalrous acts, you thank him and sit.

During dinner, his older siblings gleefully engaged in another conversation about old times. Reminiscing over every detail and their plans for the future. Natsuo landed a job as a nurse practitioner only a few weeks ago while Fuyumi shared stories about her students. Enji and your mother were quiet, only interjecting when necessary. Your mother's plate seemed to stay full as time passed, only picking at the food. This was unlike her usual behavior at dinnertime. Shoto was the same, except happily eating and staying content with your presence beside him. Only a couple times would he speak, and his replies were short. You weren't fazed much, he was the type to only speak when spoken to or if he had a lingering thought in his head.

Before your time comes to an end, your mother excuses herself and travels to the kitchen. Lost in laughter, you and Fuyumi giggle as Natsuo recounts a particularly embarrassing moment from Shoto's childhood; you eagerly listened to the story as it was a rare moment that all the siblings spent time together. Only after you begin to relax do you notice a frown spread across Shoto's lips. You were dismissive. It was only playful teasing between brothers, right?

"I'm sorry for being busy." Shoto suddenly says after he's finished his last bite of food.

"It's fine, you don't have to keep apologizing. Look at the bright side, we're making memories now. We can always make more in the future." The future, he thinks. The only future he can think of is the one that always replays in his lovestruck mind. Smiling to himself, you assume he's already beginning to feel better.

Your mother emerges from the kitchen, placing a large plate of cold soba noodles in the center of the table — right in front of Shoto. Despite being full, he eagerly tries the noodles while the rest of his family waits for him to taste them first. After all, how could he reject his favorite dish? You helped your mother prepare the noodles after Fuyumi insisted on teaching you Shoto's favorite dish. She claimed it would be a nice welcome present for him after he was away for so long.

With every bite, his face lights up the more he consumes it. Soon, his siblings gladly take bites of the noodles as well while Enji and your mother watch.

"What do you think, Shoto? (Y/N) made it all by herself." Your mother announces loud enough to catch his attention and makes sure to enunciate her last sentence.

"W- Well, I was only following Fuyumi's instructions. She deserves all the credit." Trying to act humble didn't seem to work on his persistent sister. You could notice your mother making a face at your words.

"Nonsense!" Fuyumi chirps, catching you off-guard. "You're such a wonderful cook and Shoto loves it too. Right, Shoto?" Her head turns to her younger brother who has finished his plate of your noodles already.

"I do. You did a great job, (Y/N)." He nods along with his sister before softly grinning at you. "It tastes perfect,"

"See? He loves it! You made it the way he likes. Just for Shoto..." Behind her glasses, you could see her eyes darken as she finished speaking. Only for her to innocently smile at you before tasting your noodles and exclaiming more praises. "It's so delicious. Try some more, Natsuo!"

"O- Oh... Thank you, Fuyumi," You turn your head towards her younger brother. "And Shoto..."

As the two siblings initiate a conversation with your mother and Enji, you could notice Shoto begin to shift toward you. He reaches for your chopsticks before collecting some of the noodles between them. He calls your name and raises the food to your lips. As you take a bite, you smile up at Shoto who returns your gesture while watching you eat. Once you've finished chewing, he takes a napkin and dabs the corners of your mouth while gazing down lovingly.

The longer your night continued, the more heads grew tired. After dinner ended, Natsuo helped your mother clean and tidy the kitchen while Enji excused himself. Fuyumi followed him to the front door and urged Shoto to come with her; although, he seemed more agitated that he wouldn't have any alone time with you. The time is nearly eleven o'clock, and soon you start to wonder when they would return home. Enji announces that he is leaving for the night after his chauffeur hands Fuyumi, Shoto, and Natsuo small suitcases bags.

As the siblings talk, you grow more and more confused. They didn't seem too bothered by the ticking clock and stayed still as if they had no intention of leaving. Shoto's hand moves from your palm to your lower back; you've grown accustomed to his touchy gesture and you decide to ignore it.

"U- Um... Is your father coming back to take you guys home?" You ask but all the siblings, besides Shoto, stare up at you in a confused manner.

"No, we're staying over tonight. Didn't your mother tell you? It was her idea, she kept insisting." Before Natsuo could reveal too much, Shoto interrupts him.

"Natsuo, you-" He glares up at his older brother while you feel his fingers clench around your skin. The clicking of your mother's heels makes him pause his sentence.

"My apologies for the wait. The rooms are ready, right this way." Your mother motions for them to come with her. As she walks up the staircase, she begins to speak again. "There are two extra rooms. Fuyumi, you will take (Y/N)'s room for the night. Natsuo and Shoto can have the other two rooms."

You tried to fathom her directions, but they didn't make any sense. If there are two extra rooms, why would Fuyumi need yours? Couldn't Natsuo and Shoto share while Fuyumi has the other? Perhaps the brothers want their own space, you didn't mind being with Fuyumi anyways. But as your mother reaches the top of the staircase and opens the door to your room, you realize that you are mistaken.

Although your room maintains the same orientation, all of your personal items are missing. The essential products that you use almost every day are nowhere to be found. Most of your decorations have been removed, leaving the walls bare and empty. Any of your medication, skincare, and some other sentimental belongings are gone. Either changed or disappeared. but they were here when you woke up this morning. Almost as if your room was ransacked while you were busy.

Before you could ask, your mother leads Fuyumi into the room. She sets down her suitcase on the ground before making herself comfortable on your bed. Soon, your mother closes your bedroom door before taking Natsuo to his simple guest room next door. The older brother thanks your mother and locks his door as well.

She ushers Shoto to another spare guest room next to Natsuo. When opening the door to Shoto's room, you notice one unmistakable detail — there's only one bed. Logically, this meant you had to share a room with Fuyumi, right? Your mother wouldn't dare allow you to sleep in one bed with any of the brothers... right?

The room is decorated with a few potted plants, dim lamps, and a small desk area. You're reminded of his dorm room when he attended U.A a few years ago. Except, his futon is replaced with a king-size canopy bed. White and gold sheets cover the mattress while a see-through curtain drapes over the frames. Fluffy silk pillows entice your heavy eyelids.

"Shoto, this will be your room. Wait here and get comfortable, alright?" Shoto seems pleased with the scenery. He nods at your mother before entering and closing the door.

Turning away from your mother, you walk towards your room — or Fuyumi's room.

"Where do you think you're going?" Snapping your head around, you see your mother clenching her fists with an unreadable facial expression, but you could tell that she is angry.

"I'm sharing a room with Fuyumi... aren't I?"

"No." Harshly grabbing your wrists, she leads you to your walk-in wardrobe before shutting the door. You're too dazed to process everything, barely noticing where she has taken you until it's too late.

So, you're not sharing a room with Fuyumi. There was no way you were sharing one with Natsuo or Shoto. Perhaps you would sleep on the couch? Or in your parents' room? Although your father always hated letting you see him in such a weakened state. She forcibly removes your clothing and shoes off of your body and hastily throws them in a pile of clothes that covers the whole room. Your mother isn't usually this disorganized, and her disheveled state warns you that something is wrong. The pestering feeling that you've tried to ignore can no longer remain quiet.

"Where will I be sleeping?" You meekly ask as she finally finds the piece of clothing that she has spent the whole time searching for.

"In Shoto's room." She holds up a long cream-colored, sheer négligée to your body and imagines how the clothing would fit before slipping the thin fabric over your head.

As you stare in the mirror, you can't help but gasp. Thanks to your brassier and panties, most of your 'sensitive' areas are covered but your arms and legs are exposed to the unusually cold air. A state of panic ran through your veins. You were expected to sleep in Shoto's room wearing this. A room with only one bed. The worst possible outcomes began to fill your head, it sounded sick and nonsensical. Although he was your dear friend, you knew that your mother would never agree to do something like this.

"Isn't this a bit too revealing to wear around him?" You were met with an unwavering silence that caused your heart to beat faster in your chest. "Mom... you've been acting strange all day. Please just talk to me. This- This doesn't make any sense... Why are you doing this?"

"Why can't you just cooperate for once and stop asking questions?" A scowl forms across her face, slowly getting annoyed. Your lips press together, you want to trust your mother... but you can't.

As you scan her face through the mirror, you realize that she is hiding more than anger behind her emotions. Tears swell in your eyelids but you aren't sure why. Her actions couldn't soothe your never-ending anxiety. She begins working on your hair, removing the pins stuck between your strands before giving you a simplistic style. After finishing, she lightly sprays some sweet-smelling luxury perfume. Your mother seems nearly done with her odd preparations, you unclench your jaw and start to speak.

"I know you're stressed about something, you can tell me. You're not acting like yourself..." You begin to think she will ignore you again when she checks your attire once more. Until she responds.

"I'm fine. We will be fine. Go spend the night with Shoto, please... Just one night." A brief glance at her and she seems to be pleading with you as you hear the strange tone of her voice. "I will talk to you in the morning."

After looking over your clothes one last time, she forces you out of your underwear and into a lace fabric that leaves you even more anxious. Brewing with embarrassment, you realized that your mother wouldn't offer any comforting words to soothe you. Instead, she checks her wristwatch before furrowing her brows and releases a stressed sigh.

"It's time. Now, go to Shoto's room. Don't run off." She turns her back away from you before motioning you towards the exit. You grab a velvety thick robe and throw it over your shoulders before she could see and leave.

Her hands clasp over her mouth as she holds back pained cries. However, she couldn't stop tears from cascading down her cheeks. Praying to whichever God could hear her for forgiveness. Your mother is deeply sorry, she didn't want this to happen. She hopes you'll be more understanding and forgive her in the morning.

As your feet touch the mahogany flooring, you can’t stop the impending feeling of doom that courses through your veins. Sighing heavily, you contemplate dashing to your room to share it with Fuyumi despite your mother’s warning. Yet, you couldn’t dismiss the idea of his sister knowing why your mother seemed tense. The look Fuyumi gives you during dinner replays in your mind. Perhaps the whole family knew and you were the only one left in the dark. Your hand lingers on the doorknob of Shoto’s room, and you quickly suppress the idea of running away.

Unlocking the door, you tiptoe into the bedroom quietly. At first, you don’t notice him — the bed seemed tidy as if it hadn’t been touched. Gazing around the space, you see Shoto sitting at the small desk while scrolling through his phone. He stops and watches your frame enter the door, eyes widening once he takes in the sight of your attire. His clothes are changed now, a loose white t-shirt and long navy pajama pants.

“Please don’t stare… It’s a bit embarrassing,” Once you finally enter the room, you wrap the robe tighter around your clothes.

“Sorry, my apologies.” Shyly looking elsewhere, he refocuses on his phone again.

You quickly move to the end of the canopy bed, drawing back the sheer curtains before sitting on the plush sheets. Shoto is barely visible through the drapes but his phone light illuminates brightly in the dimly lit room. You were thankful for the fleece robe covering your shoulders and arms, the harsh cold air made goosebumps arise on your skin.

"So... How will we sleep?" Breaking the silence in the room, you ask him after a few minutes pass. Shoto shifts in his chair and the white light from his phone suddenly disappears but is replaced by a lamp.

"Are you nervous about sleeping in the same bed? We've been friends for so long, it won't be a problem for me." He says, you can see his head turn towards you through the curtain.

Normally, you wouldn't care too much about staying in the same room together. He was right, you two were close friends. Yet, as you glance down at your clothing and remember the words of your mother, the tension of the meeting is hard to dismiss.

"I guess I don't mind either but I still feel weird about it," Pausing for a few brief seconds, you release a sigh before continuing. "My mother has been acting strange today. Well, not just today... for the past week." As you speak, Shoto rises from the desk. He moves the curtain out of his path before sitting next to you on the bed. You don't notice his movements until a sharp coldness reaches your skin. "I just feel a bit uneasy, sorry..."

"Don't be," His fingers softly caress your arm, an act you always did to comfort him. "She's probably stressed about seeing my father again."

"I hope..." Your mother did mention being 'happy' about The Todoroki Family visiting. You want to believe his reassurance, but your gut feeling tells you otherwise.

The night seems to fly fast as the two of you talk for a while. Shoto seems more eager to initiate a conversation without worrying about the stress of his nosy siblings. He shares some details about his life after graduating from U.A., most of which you already knew. Immediately after becoming a Pro-Hero, he joined his father's agency and accompanies him on patrol. Most of his free time is spent resting at home during the night, usually when you two would call. On the days he didn't have any work, he would typically visit his mother with Fuyumi and Natsuo.

Various topics are brought up and soon the clock reaches midnight. Shoto seems to have some energy in him, and you decide to continue despite your drowsy eyes. He mentions that he's been feeling lonely because of the mountain of work that has been pushed upon him. Your smile and promises to share your time with him are meaningless to him. He knows, one way or another, you will live up to your words.

"Don't you have someone special in your life?" Your ears perk up as you await his response to the question. Shoto's eyes trail off in the distance as he searches for an answer.

"I do..." He mumbles quietly, initially thinking that you haven't heard him until you happily congratulate him.

"Really? Who is it? Is it someone I know?" Throwing questions at him only made Shoto's smile widen across his lips.

"Don't worry. I'll tell you in the morning," Before you could protest, he speaks again. "And you?"

"Oh... I'm not in a relationship right now." Feeling his heart skip a beat at your response, a weight lifts off of his shoulders... briefly. "But, there is someone that I'm talking to." His amiable demeanor seems to shift as he listens, eyes piercing your frame. "What's wrong..?"

"Nothing... Who is it?"

"You know him, it's Bakugou." Of course Shoto knows who he is. They were once classmates and soon began working at his father's agency together.

"I do, we work together on occasion." His fingers nervously tap against his thigh, trying to release whatever pent-up stress is building in his system. "How long have you been talking to him?"

"Only for a couple weeks. He works at Endeavor's agency, right?" Shoto gives you a small nod to answer your question. "Actually, the first time I met him, I stopped by Musutafu to look for you but he said you were on patrol with your father. We talked for a bit... and got to know each other." A warm heat spread across your face as you felt the temperature of the room begin to rise.

"I see..." Shoto uttered yet a sharp pain in his chest made it difficult for him to speak. He made sure to ask your mother beforehand if you had any other suitors, to which she strongly denied. "Have you two..?

"Have we..?" He peers up at you, hoping that you understood his implication. "Oh, we haven't kissed... or done anything else. I mean I've been too busy with college to be in a relationship." You tried to excuse yourself past the embarrassing situation, but Shoto seemed at ease with your responses.

"I understand. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He apologizes as you move to rest your back against a pillow on the bed's headboard.

"It's fine. I don't usually visit too often, just when I'm passing through..." You go on to tell him about the small dates you would arrange with Bakugou during his breaks.

Making him and the other sidekicks bento boxes for lunch, on the same days when Shoto was away. Practically boasting about the trinkets and presents he gifts you, saying that he was reminded of you when buying them. On days when he was free, Bakugou would invite you over to his apartment to cook with him and show some new recipes he was currently trying to perfect.

As Shoto listens to you gushing over his coworker, a spark of anger consumes his entire spirit. Neither Bakugou nor any of the sidekicks he was acquaintances with mentioned you; listening to you ramble about the time you spent with them had shocked him. How did you even manage to befriend Bakugou?

Although his poor temper gradually improved over the years, he wasn't the easiest to approach. This wasn't right, it didn't make any sense. Shoto thought he had done everything to keep a watchful eye over you despite being so far away, only for you to be right under his nose. His temperamental 'friend' wasn't worthy of you, he should be the one in Bakugou's place.

The slow approach he decided to take wasn't successful, someone captured your heart — the place he comfortably resided for many years — and he wouldn't allow himself to be dethroned.

A flicker of flames in the dim room makes your rambling end, you watch as Shoto stares off in the room with his head looking away.

"Are you okay..?" You inquire while watching some of the flames nearly burn through his clothing.

"No, I'm not." His fists clench together before releasing as his body seems to relax briefly.

"What's wrong?"

"Bakugou isn't the type of person you should be dating." Suddenly, his gaze shifts to you with a serious, deadpan expression.

"What do you mean? If you're talking about his anger, it's not an issue. He's been really kind to me."

"No, no... That's not what I mean." Shoto inhales sharply and closes his eyes for a brief moment. "I'm telling you this because you are my closest friend and I deeply care about you," You watch him intently and prepare for his response. "But I've seen other girls at the office with him. Some old classmates, a few sidekicks. He's always flirting with them. Trust me, he brings a new girl over every week."

His entire statement is nothing but lies. The gullible expression on your face tells him that you believed his dishonesty. There was no reason for him to make up stories, you thought. Bakugou isn't 'close' to any of the other sidekicks, at least to his knowledge, Shoto has been the only one he considered a friend. His classmates have visited their agency, but only for work-related business.

Bakugou never mentioned seeing someone, never said your name, or showed you off. So when Shoto heard his name leave your lips, he was obviously shocked. He didn't care too much, Bakugou would never be considered his 'friend' or 'colleague' anymore — it was time for him to be disposed of.

"But... But if that's true, why didn't Moe or the others say anything?" Your features changed from a look of disbelief to pain and denial in a matter of seconds. Shoto truly felt bad, he really did. Yet, he knows you'll feel better in the morning. Call him sadistic, but watching your heartbreak turned him on. He would replace your sadness and bring never-ending joy.

"Knowing the type of person my father is, it's inevitable that his employees would be the same." Perhaps that wasn't valid for the other sidekicks, excluding Shoto.

He was truly elated seeing you become more and more distraught. This was his intention; play with your emotions, leave you fragile and ready to accept him. He didn't mind having to exploit the evil of his father knowing that you disliked Enji as much as he did. Your lips and eyes began to droop, forming a visible frown. Maybe because it was your first petty heartbreak, that's why it felt so bad. You always told yourself that you could overcome meaningless relationships, but the smiles you shared with everyone seemed to hurt the most. It was nothing but a facade and a waste of your time.

"I feel like an idiot..." A few teardrops escaped your eyes and trickled past your cheeks. God, why are you such a crybaby?

His warm side of his body pulls you in closer and embraces you in a smoldering hug. Shoto wasn't exceptionally affectionate, but he hated seeing you cry — especially over other people. He tried to hush your soft sniffles, you were quite pathetic to become emotional over Bakugou since you two weren't even dating. Unless there was something else you didn't share.

"It's okay... It's okay. You don't need someone like him. He wouldn't have treated you right." Your head nuzzles in the crock of your shoulder as the heat from his body washes over you.

As you begin to stop, he peels away from you before gently placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. The salty liquid coats his tongue as you melt into his touch, assuming it was only platonic affection. Of course, it wasn't. The feeling of your skin against his lips sparked something inside of him that he had been waiting patiently for so long. Wanting to be bold and explore further, Shoto trails his light pecks down to the tip of your nose and hovers over your lips. Once you feel him trying to steal a kiss, you push yourself away.

"Sorry, you must be overwhelmed." He removes his arms from your sides, watching as you nod and accept his apology.

The room soon quiets down and the air begins to fill with warmth. Yet, you begin to miss the feeling of his body against yours. Shoto lifts himself off of the bed and disappears to the desk he was originally seated in. You can hear the tapping of plates and metal and soon Shoto appears by your side of the bed. Pushing the curtain away, he reveals a tray of light food in his hands.

"What are these for?" You ask, but he only offers a vague answer.

"In case you become hungry or thirsty. I'll sit by the desk to give you some privacy." He places the tray on your lap before moving back to the desk.

"Oh, thank you."

Shoto takes his phone out of his pocket and begins scrolling aimlessly again. You can see the white light through the sheer drapes, and for a brief second, you wonder what Shoto is busy doing. His fingers dance across the screen, frantically texting his father that he wants Bakugou to be fired by the morning. Speaking of the hothead, your mind runs across him once more. It's still hard to believe Shoto since Bakugou seemed so genuine. Alas, you've only known him for a short time and it is hard to trust someone fully.

You'll talk to Bakugou when you wake up.

While you think about what tomorrow has to offer, you start to feel a strange need to drink. The room starts to fill with immense heat; although half of your body can handle it, thanks to your fire quirk, the other half becomes unbearable. When did it get so hot? The robe on your shoulders starts to feel uncomfortable on your now sticky skin. You remove the clothing from your body, not caring that Shoto would see your lingerie if he was close. For now, you need to cool down. If only he was beside you...

Your eyes peer down at the tray: one glass of water, a cluster of grapes, one pomegranate sliced in half, and a whole apple.

Reaching for the glass, you bring it to your lips and sip all of the liquid. The cup gives you relief from the heat; inside are a few jagged ice cubes. Taking one in your mouth, you finally begin to relax again. When you finish, you place the glass on the tray and scan the contents again. A wave of hunger urges you to eat something, anything, on the plate. You choose the pomegranate, plucking some seeds from the inside before eating them.

Unbeknownst to you, Shoto's eyes have been on your frame since the moment he heard your body shift on the mattress. Smiling to himself once he sees you consume the food he's gifted you. He places his phone down on the desk and rises from his chair.

Before you could finish the fruit, you sense Shoto's presence near the bed. You look up but it's too late, an icy cold grip on your wrist halts your movements. As you stare up at him visibly confused and dazed, he says in a low hushed tone:

"You stole from me, so it's only fair if I take something from you."

"Take something from me? What do you mean..?" You ask, yet he only responds by leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours.

This time, his hand restrains your neck and coaxes you closer to his body — making it difficult to reject him. The familiar flavor of pomegranate coats your taste buds as you feel his tongue slip inside your parted lips. His teeth nip at your flesh until it becomes swollen and a strange metallic sensation mixes on your tongue.

You feel the tray moving on your lap until it's placed elsewhere in the room. Your hands instinctively move to his shoulders as if trying to keep a predator at bay. Shoto's arms envelop your torso, further deepening the kiss until he feels your nerves relax under him. Grazing his tongue across your lips, he soon kneels on an open space in the mattress.

Submitting to his touches, your hands soon trail down to his chest until a hard, rhythmic pulsing of his heartbeat throbs in your palm. The overjoyed hero's body became restless as he felt your contact with his skin; he'd been waiting for this moment for as long as he could remember. To share a kiss with you, his first and he hoped yours as well.

Separating his body with yours, his arms untangled from your body as he placed light kisses along the underside of your jaw to your neck. Ignoring the light hums and soft noises you made from his actions, Shoto's fingers clawed at your flimsy sleepwear that would surely tear off if he wasn't careful. His head nestled atop your shoulder, breathing in your scent and silently cursing your mother for dousing you in nauseating perfume.

"Shoto..." You mewled out weakly as his face presses further against your skin.

"Sorry," He mumbles in a quiet whisper. "I just couldn't hold back anymore..." Sitting in an empty space beside you on the bed, Shoto is reluctant to remove you from his hold as if he is afraid you will flee.

His fingernails stab sharply into the fabric of your clothing and nearly scrape into your flesh. Then, his breathing becomes rigged as he murmurs a few incoherent words. It takes a few minutes for you to understand; the words slipping out of his mouth are endless apologies. Before you could inquire about what was wrong — you weren't angry with his overly affectionate demeanor, only confused — he raises his head, now quiet as his lips tremble as he tries to form some words in his head.

"This isn't the way I wanted it to happen, I was hoping to court you first." You feel a burning sensation on your cheeks, as you peer up at him you notice some flames blazing from the red burn on his eye. Shoto faces you now, however his stare is cast down to your hands which he soon intertwines with his own. "But... I was too late. Now, you're thinking about him, not me... Is there something wrong with me?"

"W- What..? No, Shoto, I think you should calm down." His grip on your hands doesn't falter, instead tightening. A hot tingle from one of his hands engulfs yours, so painful that you're sure it will leave a scar if he doesn't move. "Y- You're hurting me..."

Upon seeing the flash of heat on your hand, he flinches away and begs for your forgiveness. He soothes your pain with his ice and pulls away once you're calm.

"Am I not worthy?" As you try to remind him of his value and deny his acts of low confidence, he stays unfazed. "Then, why haven't you noticed? Do you not think of me the same way?"

"Noticed... what?"

"My love for you, but I suppose you've never felt the same way." It would be a lie for you to claim that you haven't experienced a romantic attraction to him... somehow, you've forgotten after the years passed. "It's my fault, I should've been more direct." He brings your wounded hand to his lips before kissing at the marks. "I've always felt this way since you saved me. We were made for each other, don't you see? I've been gone for too long, perhaps you've just forgotten, right? Let's make up for all our lost time..."

Before you could fully comprehend his words, Shoto's hands move to your shoulders and knead into your muscles; soothing your strained body in order to get you to relax. As some time passes, you begin to slip away into his touch as your head becomes heavy and fills with fog. He releases a pleasing hum, thinking to himself that the profession of his undying love finally swayed your heart — that was not the case. The more you calmed, the further his hands would dip into untouched territory on your body as you succumbed to his caresses.

His knees cage either side of your body as he hovers above you, pressing firmly into cushioning. His warm breath tickles the hairs of your neck, sprouting goosebumps throughout your skin. He stops his hands over your chest to feel your rapidly beating heart; the rhythm nearly matches his own. Whatever ounce of cowardice or fear leaves his tainted spirit. Shoto is certain that now is a perfect time; everything he'd ever wanted was coming true, and the option to retreat is gone. Unfortunately, you are forced to comply with the same sentiments.

Swiftly maneuvering his hands to the hem of your nightwear, Shoto easily peels the fabric off of your body. Coaxing you upwards, he lifts the garment over your arms and head before neatly discarding it elsewhere in the room. His palms tenderly squish the flesh covered by your bra while you instinctively hold onto his wrists. His eyes lovingly glimmer with a look of pure adoration; Shoto takes his time, slowly basking in the feeling of your body in his hands. Your hold on him loosens with every timid touch he gives you.

He leans forward, pressing another breathtaking kiss to silence any protests, which are now nonexistent. The thought of pushing him away is buried by the sense of desperation that emits from his hold and his kiss. His fingers travel behind your back and play with your brassier before unclasping it. Hooking his fingers over your lace panties, both undergarments soon disappear to an unknown location in the room. As you lay bare and exposed to the fluctuating temperatures of the room, he raises himself off the mattress and positions himself behind you with your back resting on his chest.

Stroking your plush thighs, he chuckles after he hears you gasp when his hands graze too close to your opening. His thumb circles around your clit as his other hand travels to your bust and fits perfectly around one, caressing your pebbled skin and teasing your bud. Shoto rests his head perfectly on your shoulder until your cheeks are pressing closely together. You can't see him — too focused on the movement of his arms — but he intently watches your body writhe. Your legs threaten to close once you feel him stroke your hood.

"You know... I've never done something like this before," He barely breathes out as his voice makes a chill run down your spine. There's something in the tone of his voice that sounds abnormal. "You're doing so well..."

Your fingers dig sharply into Shoto's hands, leaving indents in his skin as his thumb meets your sex at an agonizingly slow pace. He seemed to take pleasure in it as you could hear the echo of his soft laughter directly in one of your ears when you became too frustrated.

"Sho... Sho- Can you... faster, please?" Your slurred speech and submissive behavior would have been embarrassing if you were in the right state of mind, but alas that was not the case.

"Hmm? You want me to move faster..?" Upon hearing your hum of approval, he deepens his press against your clit. Partially lifting your hood and exposing your swollen nub to the air. Smiling against your skin, he says, "You're so perfect, just for me... mine."

His middle finger ghosts around your folds, and your core trembles practically begging for him to enter and offer some relief. An immense heat erupts from your body despite none of your quirks being in use. Although Shoto's body is warm, it provides you comfort. There's a need for you to be next to him, to touch him. Your fire quirk is not active, but you feel like you're burning. A small glance around the room and you see no flames erupting from his left side. Your hands raise from his wrists and slide up his arms to push your body closer against him.

Teasing your unnaturally wet slick, Shoto thanks himself for slipping an aphrodisiac inside of the water. Parting your folds with his index and ring fingers, he sinks his middle inside your warm walls soon groaning as they clench around him. "so wet for me, only me. never for anyone else..." He wishes he could feel you tightening on his cock. Unfortunately, you haven't noticed it stiffening behind you. His finger nudges upwards into a gummy section of your walls, eagerly exploring inside.

He leaves kisses and small nips across your nape. Harshly sucking and sinking his teeth into your skin that your mother would surely question you about in the morning. His fingers pump in and out of you; the rhythm is erratic before he nestles in a region of your walls that you seem to enjoy. Stretching you out as much as his thick fingers can, he reaches deeper inside with each thrust. As he grazes across a sensitive area, your feet bury into the duvet.

Trying to swallow your moans proved to be pointless, expletives and slurred mewls of pleasure begin to echo through the walls; a symphony to Shoto's ears but a nuisance to the others inside. One of his hands trails to your exposed breasts. He sharply exhales at the flesh in his palm, tugging on your sensitive bud. Your eyes screw shut when Shoto's thumb rolls across your sensitive clit again, drawing your body nearer to a release. His hand soon moves from your chest to your throat.

Squeezing lightly against your veins until you start to feel dizzy, he pulls you even closer to him and whispers, "call me yours" "say you'll never leave me" "tell me you love me" "say it" "just say it... please". Shoto starts chanting more demands in your ear, hoping in your disoriented state you would listen — even if it was just for tonight. However, he can't perform miracles and his use of power could only take him so far. He released his hold as your lungs began to fill with air again. His fingers move to tightly gasp your chin.

"Sho- Shoto... I..." You stutter before pausing at a sudden pool of warmth rushing to your lower tummy. You want to answer him truthfully, but the new sensation of pleasure on your bottom half overtakes you — or maybe that is what you try to convince yourself.

Feeling your walls begin to spasm, Shoto senses that you're close. A pool of your wetness begins to leak into the duvet and stain the sheets. As your core pulses and contracts around his fingers, you grasp onto his arms. You try to urge him deeper, getting lost in the sensation before you feel him pull away. His finger slips out easily and his thumb disconnects from your clit, denying your climax. A wave of pleasure washes over you as you spasm in his arms even more aroused than before, but it soon fades with his fingers gone.

"Why couldn't you answer?" He surprisingly asks as if the hand locked on your throat gave you any chance to replay. "Do you dislike me that much? Am I so repulsive?" You always knew his esteem was low after he was burned, but you assumed he overcame it. When you try to deny his insecurities, your words are unintelligible with your rapid breathing. He looks away before responding, "Nevermind."

Shoto raises your body and moves from behind you. His demeanor seems agitated, but no less determined than before. He was certain that he would walk out of the room knowing that you adored him the same way he did. It wasn't in his plan to go this far, yet the restless feeling in his chest wouldn't dissipate. You rested backward on the bed, unable to support yourself after sitting up for so long. He peels his clothing from his body revealing his well-toned and sculpted frame from years of hard work.

He kneels on the bed again but this time between your legs. He leans forward until he's eye-level with your pussy after straightening your waist. The first time he's seen your body so perfect and on display for him. Internally, he congratulates himself for saving your climax until now; a taste is better instead, he thinks.

His lips attach to your inner thighs as he kisses and leaves blue and purple marks against your skin. The pads of his fingers massage your flesh, occasionally making it tremble weakly in his palms. Every sensation that touches your body makes you crave Shoto more, you're certain that it is purely from arousal and not romantic emotions. It was obvious to you what he wanted by now.

His hot breath tingles your heat, smirking when he sees your slit spasm. Disappearing between your thighs, you feel him do kitten licks on your pearl before flattening his tongue and doing a long lap at your folds. Unable to hold back his pure excitement, he collects your essence on his wet muscle, so eager for a taste. A sting of your wetness and his saliva connect before breaking as he pulls away. Swirling his tongue on your clit, Shoto darts across your bud a few times before savoring whatever oozes out of you.

Noises inside the room are nothing but pure filth, you pray that no one can hear. His head peaks up to see your expression of pure ecstasy and bliss. When you lock eyes with him, you notice his chin and lips stained with a clear mixture of your juices. Tangling your fingers in his hair, your hand nudges him deeper towards his entrance to chase after a release as heat travels down below your tummy.

He focuses on your bud; sucking at the sex and repeating once he feels your fingers tug and scratch his scalp. Another thick finger soon enters again making your walls contract. As your back arches off the bed and your toes curl around themselves, heat emits from your body; expletives and moans leave your throat. You no longer cared about his family hearing, it was surely too late now.

His hands press your hips further into the mattress, trying to keep your shifting body still. Soon, a gush of your release leaks onto his tongue as he eagerly catches every drop; unwinding and finishing on Shoto's face. His lips glisten with clear sticky liquid as he helps you ride out your orgasm. While you pant and steadily lose your grip on his hair, he presses further into your mound and licks your slick clean.

Shoto pulls away from your lower half while you watch as he raises himself proudly. Peering down at you and grinning to himself, obviously happy that he could make you orgasm. He repositions his hips between your legs, easily parting your tired and numb thighs. You haven't caught a good look at his length but when you glimpse down, you see it. It's so pretty. Perfectly trimmed half-white and half-red hair and it seemed well-groomed for the occasion. Of course, this was all a planned meeting.

When he notices you staring, a pink blush spreads across his cheeks and ears. Shoto doesn't think it's much but you believe otherwise. Unsure what to do with your hands, you rest them over your heart until they are near to your face and chin. His tip glides over your opening, prodding over your hole gently and holding your waist as he starts to sink in.

His cock buries deep inside your cunt, swallowing him whole inch by inch. Cries of pain ring in Shoto's ears as his girth stretches you apart. Your eyes clench shut for a second and when they reopen his face is only a few inches away from yours. His hands hook under both of your legs, pushing them close to your chest while whispering something about how it will feel better this way. His eyes are filled with lust, twinkling before colliding his lips with yours. A taste of your essence still remains on his tongue. Trying to soothe your cries, he muffles them with his passionate kisses.

Slowly, he finally bottoms out of your warm region; only pulling away from your lips when you tighten around him. Your eyes close once again as you try to find subtle acts to suppress the pain. Shoto doesn't seem to approve of this, though.

"Darling, couples should look in the eye when they make love to each other..." Icy fingers wrap around your chin and forcefully tilt your chin until he is the only thing in your view. His eyes glisten with pure adoration while yours are unreadable. Perhaps it was the opposite — fear or disdain.

You aren't sure. Shoto, however, convinces himself that you have the same affections. The euphoric state of pleasure he's in from being with you clouds his mind. Couples? You want to question him but his hold on your jaw is tight and unwavering. It locks your mouth in place until you can lightly mumble one word...

"Shoto..."

He shushes you and nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck as he fills you completely. A deep sensation of pressure along your walls brings you nothing but discomfort. Soon raising his hips, his cock glides out of your slick-covered core as he thrusts gently. Massaging your walls, as his tip rubs along a sensitive spot a small feeling of pleasure comes — lackluster compared to the girth of his cock. It was much bigger than most you've seen or encountered in your life; you haven't seen it, but you're sure it's one of the few things he's inherited from his father.

As you wince in pain, he says, "i'll try and go easy..." It's clear and audible but spoken behind gritted teeth and nearly slurred like he's holding his composure. You needed to be molded perfectly, fitting in his arms like a lost piece of a jigsaw puzzle. Just for him. Just for the first night, at least.

He starts at a gentle, slow pace. Each thrust brings a gradual and deeper feeling of bliss that diminishes your initial discomfort. The grunts and low moans he makes directly in your ear coaxes you into enjoying. For a moment, you forget about your lack of consent to this. You envelop him so perfectly that it's hard for Shoto to hold back as he begins to hasten and deepen his sloppy thrusts inside your pussy. His arms wrap around your body, bringing you closer to him until your chests are pressing directly on each other.

"Squeezin' me so fuckin' tight, princess..." A tone that sounds nothing like the Shoto you know. But then again, he seems so pussy-drunk, you aren't sure anymore.

As his pace becomes more frantic and desperate to release his own essence, you feel a familiar coil in your heart threaten to loosen. Your nails dig and claw at Shoto's back; you miss seeing his elated expression just out of the corner of your eye. You've finally marked him too and claimed him as yours, he thinks. His hips roll against your spot once more, making you moan and utter, "oh- fuck, sho- m' gonna..!"

"Let it out for me, don't hold back" His eyes never leave your face, waiting and watching patiently. "you wanna cum on my cock, don't you?" "jus' mine, only for me..." "you love my cock, you do...'

Nodding and responding with a muffled and pitched hum, "mm..!" You've succumbed to his wishes tonight.

"Say it, you love me..."

"I... I love you, Shoto." Staring up at you with full expectation, there wasn't any possible way for you to avoid him.

Pleased with your response, he returns with newfound vigor. Hungry lust for more is evident with his energetic thrusts; rutting deep and knocking the steel bedframe into the wall. Trailing his hand down to your clit, he massages the swollen bud until your walls flutter around and a warm gush of clear liquid covers his shaft. Panting into his skin, you suck him deeper into your entrance as Shoto savors the feeling and hopes for more.

He doesn't slow down, not even after you've calmed down from your high. Instead gripping your chin and forcing you to stare at him again. His eyes are now glowing differently than before as an eerie smile creeps across his lips. He's so happy to hear you say the words he's been waiting for since the start of the night. You were right before, this isn't the Shoto you know. The one you trained with, the one you spent your entire childhood with. The glimmer in his eyes soon turns dark and lovestruck as if you're the only being of importance.

"You... love me? You do... You do..." He chants more nonsensical words again but you're unable to pay attention with the overstimulation giving you too much pleasure after your high. "You do... Mine. My other half..." His speech nearly matches the rhythm of his thrusts, frantic and needy. Trying to speak does you no good; he can't hear you over his own voice, anyways.

Repeating his words in a sinister fashion as if he's doing some sort of ritual. His giddy voice sounds as if he's excited that you've reciprocated his love, finally. Shoto bites down on your neck until a metallic taste coats his tongue. Grunting loudly before his muscles seize up and his hot breath tickles your neck with his heavy panting. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he paints your walls white and spills his seed deep inside. He stays resting on top of your chest for a couple minutes to make sure nothing leaks out.

"You're always so good to me, (Y/N)... You've always loved me when no one else has." He says through his exhales. "I was a little rough," Finally, he sees the marks and bites scattered across your skin. "I'm sorry, I got desperate but I'm happy you can listen to me now."

As he pulls out, some cum leaks between your folds. He collects it with his finger and pushes it deep inside your heat. Shoto tries showing his finger covered in white essence to you, "look, this means we're united forever... no matter what happens, we'll always be together, won't we? you won't leave me... right?"

Your lack of response makes him brim with anxiety but when he looks at you, he sees how exhausted you are. Your head is tilted to the side as your eyes threaten to close. Soon, your breathing becomes steady and your hold on his body weakens. Shoto moves off of you until he lays to your side, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck as you drift off to sleep.

"I guess it's wearing off... you'll be asleep for a while." He whispers while clinging to your body. "I wanted to talk about the future, our future. But I'll have to wait until the morning..." The soft sounds of your snoring soon echo through the walls. "Good night, my love."

Chirping birds at the crack of dawn. Orange-purple hues paint the sky's blank canvas. Finally, it's morning. You would've seen each of these scenic treasures if you waked up earlier. Instead, as if you didn't have a care in the world, you slept in. Far past the times you usually wake up when dealing with college. Shifting peacefully under the bed's white duvet, your body easily nestled into the soft cushion. You didn't want to wake up, at least not right now. It wasn't until the morning sunshine bled through the curtains and brightened the entire room, you didn't have a choice now.

Your arms felt around the space next to you only to discover that there was nobody there. As you lift your heavy eyelids, you realize that Shoto was missing; only an imprint of his body remained in the sheets. Trying to move only brought severe pains throughout your body: your arms, legs, neck, head, and in between your thighs. You didn't forget the events of the previous night, how could you? Each mark on your body was a reminder of that.

Sitting up in the bed, you tried looking for your phone but it was nowhere to be found. Did you even bring it with you when you stayed in the room with Shoto? You hadn't used it the entire evening. It was left somewhere in your room, but you had not seen it when your mother brought Fuyumi into your room. Perhaps one of them knew its location. You planned on calling Bakugou to ask him about the other 'girls' Shoto said he was messing with but you soon decide to do it later.

A nearby digital clock atop the dresser presents the time; it is nearly eleven in the morning. It was quite unusual for you to sleep so long since you've been waking up early for college. A head-splitting migraine brings you out of your thoughts, compared to last night you finally feel normal again but with pains in your body. Next to the clock is a note and clothing. You walk to the dress and hold the piece of paper to read it closely:

'Please get dressed with these and meet us in the living room.' Written neatly in Shoto's handwriting.

Under the note is a pair of wide-legged pants and a crisply ironed blouse. You get dressed in the clothes provided, not thinking too much about why they are here. You're only grateful that you don't have to wear flimsy lingerie. Before you leave the room, you check yourself in the mirror. You try desperately to cover or conceal any of the bruises left on your body and tidy up your appearance.

When you finally exit, you see Natsuo leaving his room with his belongings, ready to depart. He looks up and sees you, smiling widely before approaching you in a friendly demeanor.

"Good morning, Natsuo." You say, finally acknowledging him. He responds with the same greeting before continuing.

"We missed you during breakfast." Ah, you were sleeping for that long. "Shoto said you were really tired last night when I asked him."

"Yeah... I guess." You try not to do anything awkward but soon your face heats up as your face makes a guilty expression. "So... How did you sleep last night?" He chuckles to himself and seems to turn red.

"I slept fine, but... You and Shoto... Made a little too much noise." As if your morning couldn't get any more embarrassing. Natsuo's eyes shift to exposed marks on your skin.

"I'm so, so sorry..! I didn't mean- We didn't mean to disturb you..!"

"It's fine, really. You two are newlyweds now and it was your first night together, right? You guys really couldn't wait, huh?" Wait... newlyweds? Maybe you misheard, or it was some old-fashioned way of saying you were dating Shoto. You didn't want to think that, but then again, friends don't do things like that and keep the same platonic feels. "It's getting late, everyone is leaving soon." He checks the time on his phone before lifting his things. "The family is waiting for you downstairs. I can walk you to them if you'd like."

You shyly nod, not wanting to seem rude. As you and Natsuo walk down the staircase, you can hear the chatter of people in the living room. You can recognize your mother's voice amongst the sound. Natsuo reveals that Fuyumi is waiting outside, but he thinks it's best if you meet Shoto first. When you reach the end of the stairs, you see your mother, Enji, and Shoto nearby in the living room.

"I have to get going, but I'll see you soon." He smiles brightly at you and waves before heading for the front door.

Turning your head, you see the three of them sitting on the couch. Various papers cover the large coffee table and Enji writes his signature on one of the papers. Shoto is given the pen from him and begins to sign on another free space, just under his father. Other signatures are written on the page. As you approach, your mother notices you and quickly stands. The two men seem alerted by her sudden movements and halt.

Shoto and his father watch as she pulls you out of the room and down the hall, away from everyone.

"Why is Enji here?" You ask your mother, hoping that she doesn't ignore your questions for once. Of course, you're wrong. But this time she reaches out to clasp your hands tightly. You try to move past her and walk back into the living room; something isn't right. She blocks your view.

"Look at me." When you do, you notice her glossy eyes and trembling hands. Her grip is tight but every few seconds it seems to loosen as her lips quiver in a frown. "I'm sorry, I wish I could've told you sooner... I wanted to but your father didn't think it would be a good idea."

"You... You spoke to him? When?" Your father always hated letting you see him in his ill state. He always avoided you, limiting himself to their bedroom and only leaving when you were away. Your mother takes a deep breath and continues.

"That's not important. From now on, you will be living with Shoto and his family..."

"I- I don't understand. Why am I staying with them? I can't... I want to stay with you and Dad." Then, as if the gears in your mind finally start working, you realize. "Is that the reason why you brought them over? You did all this work to the house just to impress them? And then make me live with them?"

You were partially correct. This wasn't to impress the patriarch or any of his older children. This was for the youngest, who demanded everything to be perfect for this day. He chose this design, it was based on the home he prepared for you two to live in. Perhaps Shoto thought it was kind to let you experience your new life for one night rather than to throw you in blind. Remove all of your sentimental value from this measly home until it was unrecognizable, the only thing to conquer next was your parents. The torture from knowing your home was now a reminder of your absence seemed painful enough.

"Yes, it is. Recently, it's been hard for us to manage his medical bills. Nobody here is working, it was getting harder each day and his condition has been worsening for the past few months." If it was money, you could've found a job somewhere. It wouldn't be much but it would have helped.

"But... What does that have to do with me moving?"

"Please, forgive me. Don't be angry, okay? This isn't punishment." She waits for your hesitant nod and speaks again. "Shoto must've heard about your father's illness from someone close. I'm not sure, I've never told anyone. He offered to convince Enji to help financially. They'll cover the hospital bills and transfer your father to a better doctor. Except, for an exchange, your hand in marriage."

The rest of your mother's words seem to fade out of your ears. No, you didn't want to believe it but it all seemed to make sense. She knew, every passing day you spent in this house. She knew, but she never said anything. Instead choosing to ignore you out of fear you would run. She knew last night and chose to keep her mouth shut. That was why she was a hollow shell during dinner last night and her face contorted in disgust and guilt whenever you were alone. You couldn't find any sympathy for her left; at the end of the day, she probably only saw a price tag attached to you.

"You feel betrayed, I know..." She could sense rage emitting off of your body with your silence. Of course, there was no need for this situation to happen. "But I didn't know what to do. I was lost and confused, I only agreed because I thought it was the best thing for our family. You can understand that, right? They aren't bad people, you get along with them well. It's for the best."

"No, I don't understand." You swiftly pull your hands out of your mother's grasp and take a few steps back from the woman. "You could've spoken to me before deciding, but you chose not to. You've already decided that I'm not a member of this family anymore."

You turn your back towards your mother and begin to walk towards the exit. She tries to frantically call your name but you continue.

"I can find the money and I know Dad still has more left from all of his hero work." Your chest tightens before erupting in severe pain, but you decide to ignore it. "I'm not leaving. I'm not signing any papers. I'm not marrying anyone. I'm going outside for some fresh air. When I get back, I need all of them out of our house."

A freezing, numb sensation travels from your feet up to your calves. Your movements are slow before stopping completely, frozen in place. When you look up, you see him. Speaking of the devil. Coming towards you with an agitated expression, nearly freezing your mother who tries to intervene. You try to melt through the ice using your fire but burn part of your clothes. It's too late, anyways.

When you finally free your legs, he stands right in front of you. Your mother flees to a space nearby, too intimidated to confront him.

"Whether you want to come is not up for debate. Your mother has signed on your behalf." He says harshly, an undeniable chill runs up your spine from his presence. "Our family has connections, you do know that. No one will question the validity of your signature. Don't be difficult."

"How do you expect me not to be when you've paid off my own mother?" You say before trying to leave again, nearly slipping on his ice. His hand wraps around your forearm, he uses all of his strength and almost breaks your bone.

"You said it yourself, this isn't your family anymore." Shoto has waited far too long, he won't give up now. "You still love your father, don't you? Of course, you do. Should your dying father suffer because of your selfishness? Or be saved? It's your decision, but this isn't about you."

You look at your mother who silently pleads for you to follow Shoto. Then your mind trails to Enji who is listening to the whole conversation with his eyes shut tight as he wonders how he raised such a brute of a son. His hold softens, allowing you some freedom but you don't move.

"Shoto, you can't force me..." You want to sound firm in your words but they are uttered weakly. "We can find another way, but not like this..."

"I'm not forcing you. As I said this is your decision but if you know what's best, you'll come with me." Shoto's hand is completely removed from your forearm and extends out in a welcoming manner.

You glance around your childhood home that has been uprooted and transformed from top to bottom. You can't recognize it anymore, but there's no need to. This will be the last day you step foot into this house.

Cautiously, your fingers intertwine with Shoto's hand. His lips slyly curl upwards at your foolish decision. In the distance, you hear your mother breathe a sigh of relief.

"That's it, like an obedient daughter..." He turns around and begins instructing your mother about organizing a ceremony in the upcoming weeks. She eagerly runs off to celebrate the news with your father and other family members.

It was sickening to watch her demeanor switch in the span of a few seconds.

"You know," Shoto speaks again, returning his full attention to you. "I was beginning to think you forgot about what you said to me last night." His thumb massages gently into the back of your hand. "About how you loved me... That wasn't a lie, or was it?"

Not knowing how to respond verbally, you shake your head. Shoto softly whispers, "good, good" and kisses your hand. Truthfully, you weren't being dishonest. It was in the heat of the moment and if you were asked now, you wouldn't know what to say.

"You did make a promise to me, to spend more time together. In the end, it worked out perfectly for us." Another tightening hold on your hand sends a shock of pain through your arm. Briefly looking into his eyes and seeing him spiral, it's not Shoto anymore. "Now, we'll spend an eternity together. Til' death do us part..."

👀

𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬! 𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦! 𝘝𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘴 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳【 𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖗 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕 】

Finished writing this yesterday but forgot to post it 🥲

Anyhow hope you enjoy this chapter! My dear friend @floatyflowers encouraged me to write this fic, thank you so much hun!

     ۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰★۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰

"Can I ATLEAST know where we're going?" you asked, annoyed at the blindfold around your eyes, It was unnecessary, you pulled at the fabric lightly. " And can I take this damn thing off? I'm not a kid."

Your dad chuckled, and even though you couldn't currently see anything, you could tell from the tone of his voice that he was getting annoyed with you. "Like I said for the HUNDRED times, it's a surprise, so no, you can't, we are almost there anyways, just be patient, okay?  here why don't I put some music on?"

You groaned. " Fine." 

You two have been driving for almost an hour now, you tried to pass the time by daydreaming about one of your countless fake scenarios, it would have been much better with the music you had on your playlist, not whatever your dad has playing, but you guessed it was better than nothing.

Your mom didn't accompany you today, saying she had some errands to run and it would take the whole day, that it would be better if you two went without her, but you knew she was lying, it was obvious really.

It's your birthday after all, your dad is obviously trying to keep you distracted with this 'surprise'  the whole day so your mom has enough time to prepare for your birthday party and invite your relatives and friends over. 

You didn't care much for your birthday, but you appreciated their efforts to make you happy, so you didn't say anything and just played along.

Besides, who doesn't like getting spoiled and receiving free stuff on their special day?

After another 10 minutes had passed, you lifted your head when you felt the car slow down before coming to a stop.

"We've arrived!" your dad exclaimed, excitement evident in his voice.

He turned off the radio before getting out of the car, walking over to your side and opening the door for you before helping you get out of the car.

"Great, can I take off the blindfold now?"

"Oh yeah, one second," he said, before removing the blindfold off you.

You squint your eyes against the bright light, when you managed to adjust you gasped at what you saw.

"Tada!!" your dad said, waiting for your reaction with a big smile.

"Is that...?" you whispered, taking a step forward, looking with a stunned expression at him as you pointed towards the huge building in front of you.

He nodded. " Yup, welcome to THE DreamWorks company."

.......

You were speechless for a few moments, before finally letting out a loud squeal and launching yourself at him, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you thank you thank you!!"

You suddenly stopped as you pulled away, raising a brow at him. "Wait."

"Yes?"

You looked back at the building in front of you. "Why now off all times? you never took me to your workplace when I begged you before?"

That's right, your dad works for DreamWorks company, you were a huge fan of DreamWorks so you always asked him to let you visit there, but he never gave in until now.

He chuckled. "Well, I wanted to go all out and beyond for this year's gift to you," he gestured towards the building, "and what better way to do so than bring you here?" he puffed out his chest proudly, waiting for your response.

You couldn't hold back the wide grin growing on your lips, " That's amazing!!! Thank you so much, I love it, I LOVE IT!!" You pulled him in for a quick hug, before taking hold of his hand and dragging him to the entrance. "Let's go then!"

      ۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰★۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰

The moment you stepped inside, you were greeted by a young man standing in front of one of the elevators, he had a friendly smile on his face as he walked towards you.

"Good morning Mr (L/N), you came in early today," he said, his tone polite but firm, he then glanced towards you." and you must be his daughter, I've heard so much about you." he extended his hand towards you, which you shook firmly with your own.

You couldn't help but stare at him and take in his appearance, his soft sky-blue eyes were the first thing that caught your attention, this man appeared to be in his early twenties, he stood tall, with striking black hair, he was dressed in an elegant and well-tailored suit, his fair skin shone against the black-trimmed suit.

You had to admit that he was truly handsome, everything about his appearance was perfect, even the way his lips curved into a charming smile, it was practically impossible to ignore.

"You're even more beautiful than your father described, it truly is a pleasure to meet you."

Damn was his voice so soothing.

Wait.

Say what now?

You snapped your head towards your dad, who avoided eye contact. 'Dad!!'

Why do you always do this?

"Is something wrong miss?"

Your face flushed as you turned back to him and cleared your throat awkwardly. "Um..no, it's nice to meet you as well sir.."

He seemed to sense your discomfort, because he quickly let go of your hand and stepped back.

Your dad put a hand on your shoulder and gestured to the young man. "Let me introduce you to my old friend's son, Noah. the new CEO of DreamWorks," he explained.

.......I beg your biggest pardon?

Old friend?

New CEO?

"The who now?" you blurted out incredulously.

Noah smiled again. "You haven't told her that you and father know each other?" he inquired amusedly.

"...oh right..." the older man muttered sheepishly as he let out a nervous laugh. "I guess it never came up?"

The fuck you mean-

"Your father asked me for a small favor and how could I refuse when he told me about how much of a fan you are of our movies? now if you would follow me please," he said while starting to walk towards the elevator, you two quickly followed behind him, with you still dumbfounded and confused.

Why did he never tell you about that?!

You'll have to ask him later.

        ۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰★۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰

"Please take a seat and make yourselves comfortable," Noah directed, gesturing to the chairs beside his office desk, once you all sat down he took out his phone and called his assistant.

"Hello.. yes you can bring it in now, thank you."

There was a brief pause after he hung up his phone before the door opened once more, revealing a woman pushing in a trolley with a pyramid of gifts.

You look up at the gifts in aww, they were all wrapped neatly and nicely on top of each other, and each present was wrapped in a different coloured paper.

Even your dad seemed to be taken aback by this. "Sir, what is all this?" he asked, eyeing the pile of gifts.

Noah gave him a small smile. " I hope you can accept those humble gifts, personally picked by me. " he said smoothly, his blue eyes meeting yours. "I just want to make sure her day at my company will be a good lasting memory, it's her special day after all, and she deserves to be showered with love."

Your cheeks started burning again, damn was he charming.

You blinked as he walked over to you and handed you a small piece of paper, " Here's another gift my father wanted me to hand to you, spend it however you wish."

hm?

You looked at the piece of paper and gasped, it was a check.

100k...

Oh my god...

This is heaven!

"Thank you so much! I appreciate it!" you thanked him sincerely, placing the check into your wallet as your dad thanked him as well.

"Thank you so much for all this, but don't you think it's too much?"

You rolled your eyes.

'Too much of what? he's a damn rich CEO, those gifts cost nothing to him '

Noah waved his hand dismissively. " nonsense, it's all good, besides, I'm literally a CEO, this cost nothing to me." He then looked down at his watch and hummed.

"I'm sorry, but I need to go check on something, Mr (L/N) if you would please follow me, you're needed there as well, as for you miss." he continued, turning to you. " You can just wait here and open up your gifts while we're gone."

Your dad looked confused for a second, his brow furrowed in thought. " But there's no urgent matt- oh you mean THAT, oh yeah I remember now, yup let's go right away!"

You raised a brow at how strange he was acting but nodded anyway as you watched them leave quietly.

heh.

Your dad was so bad at acting honestly.

With the way he was acting, you assumed that he and Noah arranged a party for you in the company.

You smiled.

You could tell that today was going to be fun.

You couldn't wait!

Now time to open those gifts!

        ۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰★۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰

Just how long was this going to take?

You thought, you've opened up all of the gifts already, an expensive watch, a brand new computer, a loooot of various clothes that were your style, and so on.

You loved all of them and wanted to thank the man again, but it's been a few hours now and they haven't returned, you played on your phone until your percentage was low, you were now bored out of your mind as you waited for them to return.

Just when you were about to get up to call for the assistant, your eyes drifted over to the book that was on the desk.

Huh, might as well kill some time.

You leaned over and picked up the book, it looked quite old from its condition, its cover slightly rusted and worn out, with the title 'The Book of Dreams' written in big bold letters.

As you opened the book and read the first page.

𝕴𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 :

𝕴𝖙'𝖘 𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖒𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊'𝖘 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖙𝖜𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖓𝖊𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜

𝕴𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖙𝖔 𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖆 𝖈𝖊𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞, 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖎𝖙'𝖘 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊 '𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖌𝖔 𝖙𝖔 ____' 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖐 𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖕𝖆𝖌𝖊.

𝕴𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖙𝖔 𝖌𝖔 𝖙𝖔 𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖑𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖞 𝖎𝖓 𝖔𝖓𝖊, 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞'𝖘 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞 𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖑𝖊

𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖛𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖐𝖘 𝖘𝖙𝖚𝖉𝖎𝖔𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖉𝖊.

Huh..?

Was this a joke?

What the hell was this?

Your eyes moved to the end of the page, and sure enough, there was an incomplete sentence.

𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖌𝖔 𝖙𝖔

Huh.

You shrugged and flipped the page, only to blink in confusion as the page was blank.

'𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥..'

You flipped the pages, one after the other in hopes of finding anything written down but nope, all of them were blank, you gave up after reaching the middle of the book and returned to the first page.

......

Oh well.

'𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴.' You thought, grabbing the violet-coloured pencil and writing down a random DreamWork movie name.

The second you finished writing the sentence you gasped as a blinding light shone through the book.

You screamed when you felt yourself get pulled towards the light.

"HELP!!!"

A few seconds later the light faded, everything was back to normal.

Well...

Except there was 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 one thing missing.

You.

"Please do not object"

He is silly 😭

I wonder how Zhongli would feel if he came home one night, to find his lover surrounded by plushies of him (as an archon, dragon, and his current form) and cuddling a giant Rex Lapis exuvia plush?

Sure, he finds her skill at textile design impressive but he can't help but feel a bit jealous that a creation of fabric and cotton stole his beloved.

Jealous (and possibly pouty) Li is everything to me ;u; so here you go! Enjoy~

The first time you showed Zhongli a plushie you'd made of him in his miniature dragon form, words couldn't describe how touched and flattered he was that his beloved could find pleasure in creating plushies in his image. The fact that you loved him so much amplified his own love for you tenfold, and he couldn't ask for a better partner.

But then, the plushies started piling up. Big and small, fluffy and smooth, person and dragon. Zhongli didn't want to discourage you from making use of your exceptional crafting skills, especially seeing how happy you were, but once the plushies started taking up his side of the bed, he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy - something he wasn't accustomed to. Especially when it appeared that he was stealing you from himself in a way..?

It all comes to a head when he returns home after a week-long consultation overseas, wanting nothing more than to hold and be held by you. "Darling, I'm home."

No response. Well, that's all right, he thinks, as it's quite late and he wouldn't be surprised if you'd already fallen asleep. Zhongli pictures you nodding off while trying to stay up waiting for your husband, and a tender smile tugs at his lips.

But when he gets to the bedroom, a different scene awaits entirely.

There's the usual mountain of Zhongli-themed plushies around you, but it's...a lot bigger than he'd remembered. And in the middle of it all, you're wide awake and rolling about with a giant plushie of his dragon-Qilin form, about as tall as Zhongli himself is. Your eyes are closed and you're humming, petting the plushie as you do.

At first he's a mix of awestruck and besotted by the scene, but those feelings are swiftly overtaken by envy. Huffing softly, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

...You're minding your own business, stroking your soft Rex Lapis in utter contentment when suddenly the soft fuzzy cotton seems to morph into a smoother, scalier texture.

"Oh!" You open your eyes, seeing a more reptilian version of your creation staring back at you expectantly like a dog. Grinning, you cuddle him. "Wow, I really outdid myself with how realistic this one is!"

He lets out an audible huff now, and you laugh.

Your dragon husband curls up around you, fiery eyes transfixed upon you alone. "Pay attention to me," he murmurs, and there's a hint of a whine in his deep voice, "and me alone." He uses his tail to knock his cotton imposter off the bed.

But you're still being cheeky. "Well, technically these are all you," you say, holding up a little plushie of Zhongli wearing his white archon hood, but your husband only growls at it, which makes you giggle. You stroke his sorry, scaley ol' head. "You're so silly, Li."

"I am not silly," he answers earnestly, nuzzling his snout against your skin. Ah, how he missed your scent. Gently, he uses his clawed hands to keep your upper half in place while his tail coils around your lower half. Finally content, he closes his eyes and purrs.

You roll your eyes, smiling. "You're going to keep me like this?"

"Yes. You are to stay like this with me all night, my darling. Please do not object."

And you willingly give in, letting your lizard lover keep you in his hold like this until the sun rises again.