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#<- promo posts; not always mine
voidpii · 3 months
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Everyday, I imagine a future where I can be with you ︵♫
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sunshineandlyrics · 2 years
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🤍 Angel Louis in the Faith in the Future CD zine via @IittIefreakrry_
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December promo
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My name is Dapper 🌸
You can call me Gillian, but I mostly go by Dapper here lmao. This is my self ship blog, where you get the standard romancing of f/os, but with a dash of my own insanity lol
I have many f/os, and if we happen to share any, I'm alright with following each other, I just won't want to talk about that particular ship. But ! Please talk to me about their source material if you want ! I love being mutuals with people who ship with other characters from the same source my f/os are from 🌸
My main f/os are:
🌟🌟🌟Osamu Dazai, from B.ungou S.tray D.ogs 🌟🌟🌟
Erza Scarlet, from F.airy T.ail
Sinbad, from M.agi
Leviathan, from O.bey M.e
Beelzebub, from O.bey M.e
Idia shroud, from T.wisted W.onderland
Leona Kingscholar, from T.wisted W.onderland
Dazai is my mainest of my mains, and is the only one I might not follow back if we share
For my full list, here's my carrd:
Other things I love:
Y.ona of the D.awn, S.8 the I.nfinity, W.elcome to D.emon S.chool ! I.ruma-k.un, L.and of the L.ustrous, R.WBY, L.ove N.ikki, etc
Cute things and aesthetic, plushies, soft things, purple, pink, T.okidoki, S.anrio, M.iku, Fantasy books, snakes and other reptiles also amphibians, character creation, fashion, rp, vtubers, etc
I like to draw and write ! And I try my best to be a supportive mutual. I love talking about my ships and I'm always open to asks and comments about them, I'm also always into talking about other people's ships.
My dms are also always open, just, yknow, ya can't be a fucking dick, lmao. Point is, I love making friends, and I welcome new ones 🌸
Only thing is, I am above 18, and while this blog isn't NSFW, I prefer to interact with other adults; minors can follow, but I more than likely aren't gonna follow back.
💜💜💜
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empiresbane · 2 years
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who are your exclusives/mains?
I don't have any. I don't see the point tbh. Everybody writes these characters differently, has different ideas, verses, styles, preferences, etc. So I don't have any issue with writing with multiple versions of a character; you get something fun and different out of all of them. The idea of being like “no thanks I don’t want to write with your character-x because I’ve written something with this other person’s character-x and that’s the only stuff with character-x I can imagine ever being interested in” is just totally alien to the way my brain works. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
As for mains, I understand that for most people it seems to be a way of reducing anxiety or guilt about writing with some people more than others, which I get, but I've never felt that sort of concern myself so I personally see no need to make that sort of a defined list. The people I write with the most will be the people who write with me the most and that will change based on who’s around and feeling inspired to write with me the most, simple as that!
If you’re just trying to find the blogs of the cool people I write with so you can write with them too, check the rp promo tags on my blogs, they’re awesome.
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koushirouizumi · 1 month
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DigiTwit: "Oh, by the way, here's another interview mention where Kakudou again confirmed Koushiro and Taichi were meant to be seen as the '{best} friends'"--- M E: COOL now can people LEAVE ME + KOUxTAI FAN SIDE ALONE ABOUT IT?????
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byakugoseal · 1 year
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tag dump: broken & updated tags part ii
#✖character study║she wore her troubled past like scars / she had been through battle & came out alive#✖headcanon║i  know the parts of myself that I've hated & i can't tell which ones are mine & which i created#✖dash commentary║beautiful words take revenge against you / quiet meanings make you bleed#✖dash games║i may not have amazing weapons like a puppet in me but what i do have is my master's contempt for losing!#✖self promo║she dragged herself through the flames brushed off the pain & picked herself up to fight every battle before her#✖promo║when blood hits the battleground will you fight or will you fall?#✖saved║i am constantly haunted by someone still alive & by the memories i can’t seem to bury#✖wishlist║there is probably no reason to honor the promise from long ago#✖submitted post║seems the stars in the heavens have no answers#✖answered║a language dies without guttural cries // a story dies then de-composes // a myth#morgs tag dump#✖anonymous inquires║darkness blankets me & the moon offers me its paltry alms of light i choke with gratitude & i cannot speak#✖mobile post║i am too soft still for this world – snapping in half at a pretty word#✖queue║away on a mission#✖scheduled post║i hope saying goodnight doesn’t mean saying goodbye#✖open starter║throw yourself to the wolves & you will learn of the tenderness in their howl & the loyalty in their blood#✖ic║i've always considered myself to be a true ninja...but those were just empty words#✖sakura║may the rage in my head encounter the pain my heart feels#✖ino║a flower blooming on the battlefield#✖sasuke║another knife in my hands / a stain that never comes off#✖naruto║warrior child you were born with legends breathing inside your name & history books waiting to trace your footsteps#✖lady tsunade║how does the earth not crumble beneath our feet? & how does atlas bear it?#✖sai║with ink-stained dreams & a star-soaked heart#✖shikamaru║through sorrow you became stronger#✖kakashi║you were so brave & quiet // they forget you were suffering#✖kisame║bone soldered by coral to bone mosaics mantled by the benediction of the shark’s shadow#✖itachi║there are so many things i wish i could say but i know the hurt has already been done#✖sasori║there is nothing more frightening than a man who has torn his own self apart#✖cross over║i too have been losing my gentleness / since the first young wound#✖unknown verse║the crow has flown away: swaying in the evening sun a leafless tree
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sofs16 · 6 months
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jealousy, jealousy! 2
note thank you for all the love in the first part hehe. idk if i did this justice but here’s a short one!
tags @christianpulisic10 @boherahpsody @hrlzy @sladesthetic @lunamelona @natasha887@toasttt11
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charles_leclerc just posted an instagram story!
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yn.yln
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liked by charles_leclerc, and 19,383,282 others
yn.yln bro’s waitin for his food 😝
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charles_leclerc ☹️
⤷yn.yln you need to calm down! ⤷ charles_leclerc Did you just Taylor Swift reference me?
⤷ yn.yln what abt it
charles_leclerc
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liked by tomblyth, yn.yln, and 21, 383,292 others
charles_leclerc The proudest of my lovely girlfriend ❤️🕊️🐍
view all 2,696,339 comments
yn.yln I LOVE YOU SHARLLLL ❤️❤️❤️
⤷ charles_leclerc ❤️
thehungergames Would you like to be a tribute next, Charles? ⤷ yn.yln NO HE DOESNT. KEEP MY BOYFRIEND ALIVE
yn.deffend charles lettin everyone know yn is his gf HAHAHAHA
yn.yln
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liked by charles_leclerc, tomblyth, and 19,546,467 others
yn.yln kachow!!!
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tomblyth cars nerd
⤷ yn.yln im being so fr when i ask WHAT IS WRONG WITH CARS. I love that movie w my whole heart and it just so happens my boyfriend looks like him😝
⤷ ynchaha i always kick my feet and giggle when yn refers to charles as her bf
charles_leclerc KAAACHOW!! ⤷ yn.yln have i told you i love you. ⤷ charles_leclerc yes, the first time you said you loved me was watching cars. ⤷ charlesupdatedd im-
charles_leclerc
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liked by yn.yln, and 8,696,383 others
charles_leclerc P3 in Mexico🪓
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yn.yln yummmmmmm
yn.yln just posted 2 instagram stories!
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yn.updated
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liked by tomblyth, and 28,493 others
yn.updated Yn and Tom at the NBL game today!
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ynchaseee where’s charles
⤷ yn.updated charles apparently is doing ferrari promo and yn is a big fan of basketball and she never misses a game
user1 this girl is so mixed signals. she’s all lovey with charles in her recent and now this? ⤷ user2 theyre just watching a game..
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yn.yln
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liked by charles_leclerc, and 29,272,282 others
yn.yln i love my boyfriend so much. ANGEL OF A HUMAN BEING TO SURPRISE ME WITH ERA TIX?? IM LOSING MY MIND? STOP YOU’RE NEVER LOSING ME
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charles_leclerc hehe
⤷ yn.yln no hehe. I ADORE YOU
charleslecyn “youre never losing me” SOMEKNE SEDATE ME
yn.yln
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liked by charles_leclerc, and 12,595,393 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yn.yln date night ❤️
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charles_leclerc Wow.
charles_leclerc 😍😍😍
charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️
charles_leclerc
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liked by yn.yln, and 9,685,393 others
tagged: yn.yln
charles_leclerc Was underdressed. view all 3,697,293 comments
landonorris just saw yn’s post AHAHAHAHA
yn.yln cutest 🥹❤️
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yn.yln
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liked by charles_leclerc, tomblyth, and 13,596,383 others
yn.yln all yours🐛
view all 1,954,393 comments
charles_leclerc 😍😍😍
charles_leclerc Mine!
charles_leclerc Wow😘
charles_leclerc just posted an instagram story! caption: ‘mine’
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yn.yln just posted an instagram story! caption: ‘mine!!!’
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yn.yln
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liked by charles_leclerc, tomblyth, and 25,392,393 others
yn.yln forever & always 🧡
view all 7,338,393 comments
charles_leclerc 😍😍😍😘😘
charles_leclerc
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liked by yn.yln, and 19,770,695 others
charles_leclerc 4 years/ forever view all 3,669,383 comments
yn.yln wallpaper : set
yn.yln KAAACHOW 4 YEAR HONEYMOON PHASE
tomblyth
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liked by charles_leclerc, yn.yln, and 19,696,282 others tomblyth i hope you all know me and yn were laughing at all the shipping you guys did. theyre too in love to even know i exist most of the time we hangout. view all 6,594,393 comments
charles_leclerc stay back 🤺
⤷ yn.yln 🥹🥹🥹 love you
⤷ charles_leclerc i love you more
⤷ tomblyth i dont love either of you. Get off my page. Get a room
⤷ yn.yln YOU POSTED US?
⤷ tomblyth 🙂
innurdrrs im sorry but will anyone ignore the fact charles leclerc just said ‘stay back🤺’ 😭😭😭😭😭😭
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its-time-to-write · 11 months
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masterlist
i figured it was time to make one. it's in order based on when i wrote it. please, please let me know if a link is broken/mislabeled!!
*81 fics*
All of these are Jamie Tartt x reader
dress
Jamie and Keeley buy you a dress for the benefit gala
three times 'cause i've waited my whole life
secret relationship to engagement
you're losing me
first kid
don't make this any harder
Jamie wants to take you to Brazil, you’re both idiots
would hit him in a heartbeat now
Your ex boyfriend is a footballer and also a douche
silent sleepers
Jamie contemplates your relationship on the team bus
what it is
Jamie is sick ft. Roy
don't go wasting your emotion
Secret relationship + you own a bookshop! Ft. Roy and Keeley
you know, you'll always know me
You’re a famous singer! Congrats!
i don't know how you keep smiling/i'm just choking almost constantly
Jamie’s dad is a douche
i'll still be right next to you my dear
Jamie is a dad
can't really say i'm enjoying it now
Yikes it’s a breakup fic, but happy endings only in this house
mine of you with me
Reader and Jamie go semi-public with their relationship
today's a day like any other
The Tartt family thru the years
there's orange juice in the kitchen
Oof ouch period cramps
i can't breathe without you
Nate kisses you w/o consent
damned if i do give a damn what people say
You’re a theater actress! How exciting!
island made of faith
People think Jamie’s dumb, and he’s not
take your time while you're mine
You’re Roy’s other sister ft. all the Kents
honey, i'll give you all my time
Vienna. Enough said.
feeling fragile can't you tell
Jamie gets hurt
wrote all your lines in the script in my mind
Oh no! Some girl kissed Jamie and it wasn’t you! + Colin as the bff
stick together like glitter
Babysitting Phoebe + angst
your mind is not your friend
Angst + comfort after you have a bad hookup
chasing shadows in a grocery line
You’re pretty sure you have a hot stalker
don’t go yet
Tee hee protective Jamie at a club
kicking myself to keep from crying
The morning after your mind is not your friend
i think we could do it if we tried
High school sweethearts reunited after 6 years🥺
i’m glad you exist
You and Jamie go to a wedding
send for me
BREAKING: shit day at work made better by local boyfriend
tell me where to put my love
day off = food + snuggles
bored
The longest angst I’ve ever written. Def not the best angst I’ve ever written.
would it be enough if i never gave you peace
you’ve got baby fever and your pretty sure it’s going to kill your brother
wishing on every one
You own a flower shop. It’s adorable.
lyrical eyes, indigo smile
Bea meets the team for the first time!
something to rely on
You storm the pitch and smooch your bf
flipped the script
Enemies to lovers slow burn (or maybe fast burn, idk)
i fancy you
London Boy by ms. T. Swift
you don’t want to know me
Jamie shows up at your door after s.1 Man City
you’re in the kitchen humming
Post-Mom City
family that i chose
For the child-free girlies!
never wanted you to hate me
Pt. 2 of you don’t want to know me
wonderstruck
BFF Keeley tells you to give her awful ex a chance
in love with an idea
idk it’s like a confession of love? kinda cute
sinking into your worn-out mattress
Touch-deprived therapist! reader
you’re a mansion with a view
just two footballers doing an England promo, nothing to see here
i know what i’m doing
Post-Roy/Jamie locker room hug after Man City
wonder what it’d be like
Jamie tries to win you back
if only love were true
You’re a single mom in dire need of a plus-one
i know now it’ll pass
It’s hard to love someone when you’ve been told you don’t deserve it
the way it goes
The Greyhounds are protective of Jamie
how to love being alive
Idk this one’s like whatever and also supes long
there is happiness
GEORGIE GEORGIE GEORGIE
it’s just wanderlust
Relationship soft launch
glitter on the floor
You like to knit. You also think you’re a comedian.
maybe tomorrow you’ll know
The “he’s a prick to everyone but her” trope
hustling for the good life
I swear this is my last chaptered fic
let’s fall in love for the night
Kent!reader is having a baby
soft hands hit the jagged ground
friends w/benefits
for you, there’ll be no more crying
anxiety at work + bf jamie
smile at me
there was only one bed!!!!
slow motion double vision in rose blush
happy b-day Jamie Tartt
half-moon eyes
it’s just a question!
can’t hear my thoughts (i cannot hear my thoughts)
I’m allowed to write what i want, ok???
here in my arms
more Kent!reader + a baby named George
coffee at midnight
prick coach wakes you up bc of your prick boyfriend
healing me fine
Just a lil engagement fic for ya
i don’t know anything
if you’re interested in Bea
right words at the right time
It’s a wedding fic
move fast and keep quiet
boxer!reader + smitten Jamie
not saying you’re in love with me
You meet over Bantr!!!
we could be so good
Jamie comforts you after a bad date
i hold it like a grudge
i don’t even know how to describe this one but u might cry
there for you
sick fic
before you go
physio!reader
you’ll probably date her
chronic illness + childhood friends. gotta love it
feel it burn
Gym anxiety
play it back
Old movies of bb Jamie
ours
Thanksgivinggggg
light in the hallway
MORE Kent!reader
stuck by you
Bad family + good Jamie = fic
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On the "Choose a Side" Discourse
With HBO leaning veryyyy heavily into "pick a side" for their promos, the "no team" people are crawling out of the woodwork. I want to preface this post by saying that I'm not saying people shouldn't have favorite characters who aren't mine, nor that people should just be totally invested in fandom discourse.
I already made a post about the issues with the arguments of the "no team" people, so I'll just summarize my thoughts from that real quick. A majority of their arguments and metas are thinly veiled anti Rhaenyra thoughts. That's still true of this new wave of this group.
Now, one thing I will agree with them on is: GRRM did not write this story to be one of choose a side. However, that is not because the Blacks and the Greens are equally bad or the Targaryens are all evil. No, it's because the Greens were always in the wrong and GRRM makes this abundantly clear to us in F&B.
Let's look at some facts from the Dance. While male primogeniture is tradition, it's not the law; the king's word is law, something ASOIAF has established time and again. The Greens took the throne through underhanded ways. They left Viserys' body to rot for days while they prepared for Aegon's coronation to prevent Rhaenyra from learning and coming to KL. They forced the smallfolk to attend and most didn't cheer for Aegon, with some even calling for Rhaenyra while most were confused and angry.
Aemond drew first blood by killing the unarmed thirteen year old envoy, Lucerys Velaryon. A majority of the realm declared for Rhaenyra; 53 houses supported her, while only 28 supported Aegon. The Greens committed the greatest atrocities of the Dance: Aemond burning the Riverlands and Daeron massacring Tumbleton. They also committed the greater number of atrocities.
The Greens also lost the war. The Blacks weren't just fighting for Rhaenyra, they fought for her heirs as well. This is why they swore to her and Jacaerys; later for Aegon III after the deaths of his older brothers. The Black forces continued to fight after Rhaenyra's murder and took KL. Aegon was murdered by his own men when the Blacks were marching on KL; in other words, the Greens knew they were beat, so they killed Aegon in an attempt to save themselves. Since Aegon left no heirs aside from Jaehaera, Aegon III was crowned and married to Jaehaera. The Blacks won the war.
Aegon the Usurper's bloodline is destroyed with the deaths of Jaehaera and Gaemon Palehair. This is the final affirmation of the Greens being in the wrong. GRRM's books punish usurpers by wiping out their bloodlines; Maegor and Robert Baratheon being the most obvious examples. Aegon and all the Greens have no descendants, their bloodline is dead.
Rhaenyra's bloodline, on the other hand, continues all the way through to the main series. Daenerys Targaryen, the most powerful character in the series, is her descendant, as is Jon Snow (unconfirmed as of now in the books) who is another of the key five. Rhaenyra may have died, but her faction won the war and her bloodline will save the world through her two greatest descendants (alongside the rest of the key five).
The Dance of the Dragons is, ultimately, a story of the damage the patriarchy does and how misogyny is destructive to the world. The Dance caused the death of the dragons and a great loss of power for women in the realm. Queen consorts after Rhaenyra had markedly less power and there was a drop in female leaders of the great houses. The loss of the dragons caused the weakening of magic in the world as a whole.
The Dance isn't about who your favorite war criminal is, nor is it about the evil of the Targaryens. It's about misogyny; something HOTD seems to have forgotten. Even before they started pushing TB vs TG so hard, they still missed the point.
It doesn't matter that Rhaenyra isn't a perfect, or even a good, person. It doesn't matter that Rhaenyra is non-conforming, plays the political game, and exploits her father's favor. Rhaenyra could have been as pious and well-behaved as Naerys and the Greens still would have usurped her. Rhaenyra could have had children with Laenor, and still the Greens would have usurped her. HOTD tries to paint the usurpation as partially being on Rhaenyra and her choices, but nothing Rhaenyra could have done would have been good enough.
The Blacks are the protagonists of the Dance. Are they perfect? No. Are they heroes? No. GRRM loves his gray characters, the Blacks are no exception. If you people want a story with black and white morality and perfect protagonists, go read another book. Just because people aren't perfect and don't operate exclusively in what's right according to our modern standards doesn't mean they aren't the protagonists.
In conclusion: there isn't a TB vs TG discourse in the Dance because the Greens are the antagonists and completely in the wrong. The point of the Dance is that the misogyny of the Greens damaged the realm. Rhaenyra is the rightful queen, there is no actual argument for Aegon or any of his allies.
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Rhaenyra is the rightful queen to Westeros, go cry to George if you don't like it.
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sgiandubh · 15 days
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Show must go on...
... and rather very much in your face, mind you.
Scottish Xena posted two stories at about 7 AM, counting calories, and, in the process, making sure to address roughly any objections that were ventilated on this side of the fandom, including this very page. See for yourself...
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What are the odds she'd be talking about nutrition? Right. I am not an idiot. I know when something is way Over The Top - less is more, Xena. Less is always more: there was no need to overdo it like that, placemat and all, if you wanted to remain credible. You read us and you have been instructed to do so, just to perfectly stick to your walking, talking and very profitable Local Innuendo script.
Fair enough. And then, you also tell us that you will be at Hyrox today around noon, to film some ESN promo: your bread and butter, of course. S is just for shits, giggles and that Instagram yield:
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So, there's that. *urv connecting dots like crazy, without having the slightest clue of what was discussed at that table. Her own brand of cheap fanfic for the masses, for the other five clowns commenting, out of which three at least are her own sock accounts.
Cue in the Useful Idiot. The Brazilian Tourist and Fan. Uma senhorita tão desagradável, who changed her story in between her first reaction reel and the debrief, back at her suburban Airbnb or where the fuck that was filmed.
First reaction reels:
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'Just saw SH.' Not alone, oh no: 'com uma moça'. With a girl. So yeah, she had qualms asking for a pic.
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First lie and dramatization. She posts a message for S where she explains she did not dare approach him, but she saw him alright. The one in Portuguese is completely different, though: 'I am going to post the video without sound, because I could only say "what a shame", while I was filming him on the sly. LOL.' I guess she thinks we are all idiots, or something. Also, in her reel, she confirms: 'ele estava almoçando com outra pessoa'/he was having lunch with another person. So far, so good, right?
Six hours later, a second debrief batch of reels, taking her reader's questions. The narrative changes, with a strong bias:
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'Yes, he is super accessible and educated! I did not freak out, I just politely asked to take a pic (what I do consider the right way to approach famous people, at the end they are still human beings).'
For the people in the back: she is a lady. And a liar. The worst kind of liar, actually: a narcissistic one. Let's see what else she takes great pains telling us: 'ele tem um fandom bem tóxico'/he has a very toxic fandom. From now on, we just know what to expect, right?
Second answer, she explains he is very tall. He went inside to pay the bill and then he also went towards the bathroom (wtf?), she followed him inside, she asked for the menu, he finally went out and she approached him ('abordei' - 🙄) between the door and her table. Classy.
Cue in to a third answer (and second lie) to a very odd question: 'what did he smell like?' or something along those lines. For this one, I had to ask confirmation from Shipper Mom, who told me two things (she knew next to nothing about the whole episode- no bias): ' it's damn hard to understand what the hell she is talking about, she is eating half of her words. Plus you can tell she is lying.'
He doesn't smell, she tells us. But hey, she also freaked out a bit, finally (I thought she hadn't?!) and then well, 'ele estava com outra pessoa, uma moça, deve ser a namorada dele'/ he was with another person, a girl, probably his girlfriend'. But then he went inside (again? wasn't he coming out of the venue?), 'and the girl stayed at the table'. Things go murky afterwards, like they absolutely always do: she tells us she spoke to her (?), but would not say anything more, yet making sure to tell us she 'saw both of them'.
If anyone has a better version than mine, please step forward: we listened three times in a row, with Shipper Mom, a teacher of Portuguese and published literary translator. She was appalled by this young woman's carelessness and mendacity.
The Brazilian Tourist Fan is 23 years old (and it shows), she presents herself as a journalist and writer:
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Seriously? What are the odds?
And finally, to wrap it up, the classical cheering moment, at yesterday's Hyrox: ' yeah, Sarah, nice!'
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Nice, indeed.
FFS. Will it ever end?
Yes, it will. Anything ends: even Stalin's terror.
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thefallennightmare · 6 months
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Just Pretend-nine
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*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader
Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.
Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.
Authors Note: PLEASE, we are begging you guys. Take your time with this one, so many different emotions throughout. Its a big fucking deal and read it slow, immerse yourself in this world while listening to the playlist. Enjoy my lovelies. 😉
Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)
Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond
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NOAH
"I'm so fucking glad we're staying in a hotel the next few days," Folio groaned as we walked down the long hallway of the hotel.
I nodded in agreement. "I can't believe the tour is almost over; our last show is tomorrow night."
With our last show tomorrow night, we were spending the next few nights in a hotel and we all planned to take flights back home so we could get there faster. Hollow Souls were also staying in this hotel but they were a floor beneath us but it seemed the farther I went from Y/N, those imaginary pull strings inside of my heart tightened. If it hurt this bad when she was a floor underneath, how bad would it hurt when she was a state away?
As far as I knew, she still had plans to go back to Vegas because that's where her home was, granted it was with Trey. There wasn't a part of me that was worried she would go back to him; I knew she wouldn't. Ever since they fired him, Hollow Souls has been thriving. They posted on their social media pages that Trey was kicked out of the band due to personal reasons and while most of their fans complained about them kicking out their main vocalist, there was a select few that were excited to see what the future of Hollow Souls looked like.
Y/N was upset at first that so many of their fans were boycotting them now because they decided to kick Trey out.
"Seems like they only care about Trey's vocals when I'm the one that actually wrote our songs."
It took a while of Malcolm and Chase talking to her to realize that their future together as a band was looking bright. They could reinvent themselves.
I filled in for the last two shows but after playing my set for thirty minutes before their hour-and-a-half set, my voice was getting raw and sore so Matt thought it be best if I didn't fill in for the last show. I was going to argue, not wanting to let them down, but Chase reassured me they'd figure out what to do for the last show.
Y/N has been glowing since Trey left, slowly becoming a better woman in front of all of us; to me, she'd always been perfect. But we could all see her confidence growing. With her face in the dirt far too many times with Trey, she finally said enough; it doesn't hurt anymore. As all of his lies crumbled down, Y/N found a new life.
To say all of us were proud of her was a fucking understatement.
"Hey," Jolly bumped shoulders with mine, pulling me from my thoughts as we stopped in front of the door to his room. "Bryan wants us ready to go in twenty minutes."
Oh, right.
We were currently in Oregon and Bryan planned some time today on our off day to visit one of the national parks here to take some promo photos of us.
"Yeah, I'll be ready to go. I need to change quickly and I'll meet you guys down in the lobby," I said as I walked down a few more doors until I stopped in front of my room; the one I was sharing with Nick.
He patted my shoulder as he walked past me into the room. "You should ask if Y/N wants to come with."
I shrugged off his words, trying not to make it seem that I'd been tossing around the idea for the last hour when Bryan first told us about his plan.
"She might have plans with Chase and Malcolm," I said while tossing my suitcase onto the bed, quickly rifling through the clothes to find something to change into.
"She doesn't. Last I heard, Chase and Malcolm are going out tonight so Y/N will be alone," Nick raised a suggestive brow.
With a long sigh, I turned to face him. "You already planned this, didn't you?"
"It was Chase's idea," he answered.
Rolling my eyes, I pulled out my phone to send a text to Y/N.
Get dressed, I'll be by your room in fifteen minutes.
She responded quickly before I had the chance to set my phone down.
Care to tell me where we're going?
All you need to know is to dress warm, angel.
You're full of surprises. See you soon, mochi. Room 245.
"Mochi?" I chuckled to myself while pocking my phone.
With a smile playing at my lips and my heart pounding loudly in my heart at the nickname, I tossed on a fresh hoodie and my tan jacket, opting to leave my hair down. Nick finished getting dressed when I did and once we stepped out in the hallway, Jolly and Folio were already waiting for us right outside our door.
"Fuck," I cursed while clutching my chest. "You scared the shit out of me, Folio."
"Too busy thinking about Y/N, huh?" He gave a playful smile.
Shoving him on the shoulder, I mentioned we needed to stop by her room before heading down to the lobby.
Jolly adjusted the guitar bag on his back. "She's coming with?"
I hesitantly nodded. "Is that alright? Nick said she was alone, and I felt bad if we left her while we did something."
They all smirked at my rambling as we took the stairs down one floor, our footsteps echoing in the small confined space.
"Of course it is, we don't mind when she tags along," Jolly said.
Coming to a stop in front of door 245, I gently rapped my knuckles against it and waited for her petite voice to carry through the wood. It was silent for a few moments, nerves ate away at my stomach as I wondered why she wasn't answering yet.
I knocked once again, this time with a bit more force, and breathed a little when a loud curse sounded from the other side.
"Hang on, someone's at the door."
I looked over to Nick with a raised brow, and he merely shrugged. "Chase and Malcolm are gone so I don't know who she's talking to."
The door opened with a quick brush of air, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight in front of me. Y/N was dressed in a pair of black tights, and a deep orange sweater that rested to the middle of her thighs, and her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. I had to resist the urge to wrap my fingers through it to pull her back to me as she turned back into the room.
"Give me two minutes, I have to get my shoes," She said while clutching her phone to her ear. "No, Dad. Not you. I've got plenty of time to talk."
While the rest of the guys hung out in the hallway, I leaned against the wall right next to her bed and watched her as she slipped on her typical Doc Martin, nodding every so often to something her dad was saying on the other end of the phone.
"Dad, you seem to forget that you're seventeen hours ahead of me right now," she laughed causing my heart to flutter. "It's only noon here. Wait, why are you calling me so early? Isn't it your day off?"
She paced around the room looking for something and realizing what it was; I grabbed her bag and slung it over my shoulder. "I got it."
Y/N smiled her thanks before the conversation with her dad took her attention again. "No, I haven't talked to Mom in a while…. well, the last time she tried to guilt trip me into staying with her when the tour was over…I'm not staying at Trey's place anymore. We broke up.…..yea, long time coming, tell me about it….I'm sure I'll figure it out but I'm not staying in Vegas anymore…..hell yes I'm keeping Salem; asshole doesn't do shit for my cat."
I couldn't ignore the way my stomach flipped hearing that she didn't plan on staying in the same state as Trey.
"I can't move in with Malcolm or Chase because they're actually finding their own place together…Dad, they're dating; have been for the last six months…Yeah, that will explain exactly why Chase and I never got together."
I chuckled as I thought of her dad trying to set up her and Chase.
"You saw videos from the show last night?" There was a clear shock in her voice as she continued to talk with her dad as she rushed around the room getting ready.
"I'm surprised because you don't even know how to work face time," she giggled. "Oh, he's a friend of ours. We've been touring with his band for the last few weeks. Yeah, he filled in the last couple of shows….you think so? That's what everyone is saying online."
Her gaze flicked up to mine as her lips parted slightly, whatever her dad said made her give a long pause.
"Just a friend, dad." Then she turned swiftly on her heels away from me to whisper something low into the phone.
"I'm sorry," she mouthed to me with a pulled expression as she looked over her shoulder..
I waved her off. "Take your time."
"Dad, you know I miss you but I can't move to Japan; not now. But yes, I promise to visit you as soon as I can."
Eventually, after another minute, she said goodbye before hanging up with an audible groan. "Don't get me wrong, I love my dad but sometimes he forgets we talk almost every other day. He wants a play-by-play of my life every time."
"He wants you to visit?" I questioned.
She nodded while slipping into a jacket. "Yeah but its hard to find time. You need more than a weekend to visit Japan; there's so much to do."
"Yeah," I pushed her hand away when she went to reach for her bag. "I've got it."
"Noah, you don't have to carry my bag," she chuckled.
I shrugged. "I don't mind. Ready?"
"Yep," she smiled that heart-stopping smile.
When she walked past me towards the open door, my fingers grazed the inside of her wrist to stop her.
"Mochi?" I asked.
"Yes," she responded immediately. "Because you're the sweetest and your tummy is soft."
She poked her finger into my stomach before letting out a loud shriek of laughter as I wrapped an arm around her shoulders to bring her into my embrace, the both of us walking to the doorway where the guys were waiting.
"Malcolm and Chase are going to meet us once they're finished with their date," Y/N said.
"I'll text them the address," Nick said while pulling out his phone.
"Where are we headed?"
"The mountains," Folio answered with a smile.
"Ooh," she slipped out of my embrace, much to my dismay, to rummage around her suitcase for a book before she came back to me, lifting my arm and throwing it over her shoulder once again. "Now I'm ready."
Resisting the urge to press a kiss to her forehead, I set my sunglasses over my eyes and pulled her along with me as she let the door close behind us and ignored the smug look Nick threw my way as we walked past him; Y/N wrapping an arm around my back.
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NOAH
"Can you believe how many people are calling for us to collaborate? It's all over Twitter," Nick said while browsing on his phone.
"Shit, really?" Y/N peered over from the back seat so she could gaze down at Nick's phone, who sat in front of her.
I was driving the van to the location that Bryan chose for our photo shoot but Folio called shotgun before she could which earned a cute little pout on her lips; lips that I wanted so bad to taste once again. So she sat in the far back with Jolly while Nick and Bryan sat in the middle. It was weird not having Chase or Malcolm with us since we did everything together on our off days.
"What are they saying?" I wondered while keeping my eyes on the road.
"Fans want you to feature on Hollow Souls next album," Y/N grinned as our eyes locked in the rearview mirror for a few seconds.
I hummed while pulling the van to a stop at the park's entrance. "I'm around whenever you need me, angel."
Once we all piled out, I met Jolly and Bryan at the back of the van to help them unload the equipment while Y/N chatted quietly with both of the Nicks, and out of the corner of my eye; I marveled at how goddess-like she looked with the afternoon sun casting her with her own aura glow. Jolly caught me staring because he smacked my chest before handing me the guitar he brought.
"You could ask her out, ya know," Bryan smirked.
I snapped my gaze over to him. "I can't."
"Why not? It's clear she feels the same since she's here right now," he said.
A long sigh fell from my lips as I ran a hand over my face. "It's not that easy, guys."
Bryan rolled his eyes and then hung his camera from his neck. "I mean you've already kissed, how much easier could things be between you two?"
"You told him?" I seethed at Jolly, who held up his hands.
"I didn't say anything. You two give it away with all the romantic googly-eye shit," he chuckled while he and Bryan began walking up the long trail toward the top of the mountain where we planned on taking the pictures.
"Hey," Y/N smiled as she bounded up next to me. "Little photo shoot?"
Immediately the scowl that followed Byran and Jolly turned into a warm smile, matching Y/N's, and I nodded. We began walking step in step, hands brushing against each other every so often, and I nearly linked fingers with her more than once. However, when we reached some rocky terrain while walking up a hill, Y/N cursed herself for not wearing smarter shoes.
"Here," I bent low in front of her and patted to my back.
"No, you're not carrying me," she tried to laugh it off, but I knew she was nervous about me carrying her weight on my back.
"Angel."
I peered over my shoulder in time to see her place her hands low on her hips.
"Mochi," she teased back with a small smirk.
My heart skipped a long beat at hearing the nickname again. It sounded so fucking sweet falling from her lips; almost as much as my actual name sounded.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," I said, still bent low at my knees.
Y/N pulled at the bottom of her sweater dress. "I don't want to give these bozos a show."
She threw a thumb over her shoulder towards both Nick's who walked a few paces behind her. I rose to my knees and gave her a suggestive smirk while closing the distance between us.
"What color are they?"
"Uh," Y/N stammered but quickly recovered. "A cute olive green. Looks great against my skin tone."
A low noise vibrated in the back of my throat and I stood straighter as Folio walked passed just in time to feel the growing sexual tension.
"Either you hop on his back or I will," he joked as he and Nick walked passed us.
She stared up at me and slowly licked her lips, an action I watched carefully through my sunglasses. "Noah?"
"Yes, angel?"
"You have a cute nose," her voice was quiet, and I thought I misheard her.
I titled my head to the side. "My nose?"
"Yeah. It's just the perfect size for your facial structure," she finished with a boop to my nose.
I scrunched up my face. "Did-did you just boop my nose?"
"See!" She pointed to my face. "You look so fucking cute; it's insane."
"Angel, literally," I breathed a low chuckle.
"Mochi, literally," she mocked while sticking her tongue out.
My fingers itched to grab it but Bryan's loud voice echoed through the trees from far ahead. "Let's go you losers! You're holding us up."
I swear to-.
"What will it be, angel?" I asked.
Y/N dramatically sighed before motioning for me to spin around, which I did with a quick wink.
"If you drop me, I swear to Hades," She grumbled while adjusting her dress.
The warmth radiated from her in giant waves as her legs wrapped around my sides and I hooked my arms underneath her thighs to hoist her up.
"I swear to Hades that I will not drop you," I promised while walking up the steep hill towards the rest of the guys. "Do you actually pray to the Greek Gods?"
She flicked my ear. "No, silly. I just like to joke around with them. They're my favorite mythology."
"Will you teach me about them?
"I'm honored you asked; I'd love to," she ran her fingers through my long hair and I briefly let my eyes flutter shut at the calming feeling.
"Only if you let me braid your hair."
My eyes snapped open. "Uh, we'll see about that."
She flicked my ear again. "You're no fun."
Hooking her tighter against me, I closed the distance between us and the guys in a few long strides. Nick gave the two of us a look as I set Y/N down gently on her feet, she quickly pulling down her dress.
"You didn't see shit," she pointed a firm finger to all of us.
"Nope."
"Nothing."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Bryan held up his camera and snapped a few pictures of Y/N; who in return, flipped him the finger.
I watched with a racing heart as she messed around with the guys, almost as if she'd been part of our little group for years.
"Alright," Y/N pulled the book out of her bag. "I'll let you guys do your thing. If you need me, I'll be reading over there."
She pointed to the edge of the mountain that looked over the small lake we drove past to get here.
"Be careful, angel," I warned.
"I'll be fine," Y/N rolled her eyes but as she turned, she tripped over a rock and stumbled a bit before standing straight.
I raised a teasing brow at her while crossing my arms over my chest. "What was that?"
"Fuck you," she taunted with her middle finger.
Don't tempt me, angel.
The next hour passed in a blur as we took countless pictures, just having a fun, relaxing time. Every so often, my gaze would fall onto Y/N as she leaned up against a large willow tree, book perched in her lap. The wind blew through her ponytail every so often and I marveled at how fucking breathtaking she looked when her face would scrunch in surprise with whatever she was reading.
I knew from the moment I stepped off our bus the first day of the tour when I saw her standing amongst the group; when we first met. It wasn't the typical love at first sight bullshit Folio talks about that happens in the movies. It was more like a familiarity, almost like 'oh, hello. It's you. It's always going to be you.'
"Noah, could you take a little step forward," Bryan directed.
Snapping my gaze away from Y/N reluctantly, I followed Bryan's orders for another long few minutes until he decided we got enough pictures. I motioned towards Y/N, who still had her nose perched in her book, and Bryan knew what I silently was saying because he snapped a few pictures of her.
Malcolm and Chase walked up just as we finished our photoshoot so a quick idea came to my mind.
"Angel," I called.
She looked up. "Hm?"
Not saying anything, I waved her, Malcolm, and Chase over to our position which they did hesitantly.
"If Bryan is cool with it," I pointed to him. "What do you guys say for a Hollow Souls photoshoot? New and reimagined?"
Bryan immediately agreed. "Let me change out some things and we can get started.
Chase and Malcolm also agreed with a nod. "I think it'll be good for us."
"You guys don't have to do this for us," Y/N stated. "You've already done so much for us, Noah by filling in."
I shrugged while stuffing my hands deep into the pockets of my jeans. "I take care of the people I care about."
She pondered my words for a long moment and eventually let out a long breath. "Alright fine."
Once Bryan returned, the rest of stepped back to give them space to work. Nick was the only one who watched me as Jolly, Folio, and I kept our eyes on Hollow Souls. We grabbed a few beers from the cooler Jolly packed and was nursing them slowly.
"You know, this would be a perfect opportunity to maybe slip away just the two of you," Nick whispered.
I peered over to him and rolled my eyes, shoving him in the shoulder. "Whatever."
"I'm just saying," he held up his hands in defense. "A night under the stars in the mountains. Anybody would kill for a date like that."
Nick's words weighed heavily on my brain and when she began walking towards me, I made the haste decision by grabbing the guitar that was leaning against the tree.
"Hi," Y/N smiled as I met her halfway.
My heart warmed at the sight.
"Do you want to go somewhere more secluded, just the two of us?" I suggested with a hopeful smile.
I didn't want to think how I would feel if she rejected me and walked away from me.
"Sure," she answered quickly with a glimmer shining in her eyes.
Ultimately, after walking for a few minutes, we decided on an area far from the rest of the group down the water's edge. We sat down in the sand, our knees brushing against each other, and held the guitar in my lap as I watched her stare out into the vast distance of the water. There was a faraway look in the depths of her eyes as she messed with something on her wrist, fiddling it between her fingers.
A hair tie; the one I gave her the last time we were on the beach together. I wondered where it went but decided that I never wanted it back. It's hers to keep; along with everything else I gave her.
"How are you doing, angel?" I asked, breaking the growing silence.
She didn't look at me, kept her eyes straight ahead.
"I'm-." A hesitant breath. "I'm not sure. I want to believe I'm doing okay with the breakup of not only my relationship but also the band. For the longest time, Hollow Souls was the four of us and we released three records together. The future scares the shit out of me. Can the three of us reinvent a new Hollow Souls or do we need to find someone to replace Trey completely?"
I strummed a few random notes on the guitar; the melody echoing into the sounds of the waves.
"I think a fresh start in all aspects is good for you," I answered slowly, trying to get my thoughts and words right. "I've said it from the start, you're the heart and soul of this band, Y/N. The screams were a bonus. It didn't make or break you guys."
She finally looked towards me and her eyes darted over every inch of my face, wondering if my words were the truth. With her, they always were.
"I don't know what I'd do without you, mochi. Truly."
I scrunched up my face to show that the nickname wasn't my favorite but deep down, my insides were floating in pure bliss having her call me something so disgustingly cute. If any of the guys heard it, though, they would give me shit until the end of my days.
"Ditto, angel, ditto."
I tried to play it cool, sauvé, and chill. My typical demeanor was chipping like ice though, the fear of what would happen if it broke completely had its vise grip on me. No one has ever considered a fuckin a nickname for me, not one without a punchline. Not one without a groan or a cursed tantrum that followed. I wasn’t sure if the pure bliss I was feeling was normal, but who the hell wants normal? Hearing it come from her lips meant everything to me.
"Let's play something," I motioned to the guitar.
"Ooh, what do you have in mind?" She asked while turning her body to face me completely head-on and letting her hair flow as she took it out of the ponytail.
The view of her sitting in front of me with the waves crashing behind her, the setting sun's rays breaking over the horizon stole the breath from my chest.
"Only Love," I answered without an ounce of hesitation.
Y/N's nose scrunched up with confusion and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't the cutest fucking thing ever.
"Noah, that was a demo song from three years ago."
I shrugged and played the first few notes of the song. "Might be silly to some but to me, it means a lot."
It was true. I listened to that song on repeat when it first came out. It was the first song I heard by Hollow Souls and Y/N's voice captivated my heart with its claws. I remember laying on the pullout couch next to Nick in his bedroom as I stayed there yet again. My mind was racing with only one thought.
I have to fucking make it. I needed to buy my own couch that brought a sense of comfort and security I yearned for.
That's when her soft voice came through my headphones and it shocked me to hear a feminine voice after Of Mice and Men. I brushed the hair away from my eyes as I settled deeper into the couch and let Y/N's angelic voice lull me to sleep that night and far too long after.
Cut to three years later and the girl who wrote that song is here in front of me. Some may call it a ‘rockstar crush. Would she be considered that? Who the hell knows? All I know is that I had pent-up memories, and needed to hear that sweet voice sing it, just for me all these years later.
Y/N's real, right there in front of me.
"I'm shocked you remember that song."
"Why wouldn't I? You talked about it being on the cloud during that one livestream," I answered.
Her eyes doubled. "You watched the livestream?"
"Twice."
A red hue brushed across the soft skin of her face as she tilted her head down towards the sand, long hair covering her face.
"No," I brushed away the hair behind her ear. "Don't hide your beautiful face, angel. I want to see all of you if you'd let me."
"Sorry," she muttered under her breath. "I don't even realize I do it."
"Don't apologize. Never apologize to me. Just understand that this is how I see you. Now, enough sadness. Sing for me, angel."
She looked up at me through lashes with a small smile. "Do you know how to play it?"
I snorted, a little hurt that she would doubt me, but proved her wrong as I played the opening part of the song.
"I told you I watched the stream twice."
"Okay," she nodded. "Where did you want me to start?"
"Sing the whole song for me. Please?" I begged.
"You want me to sing the whole song?"
"I do," I rushed out.
Y/N gave a curt nod. “Okay, I’ll play the whole thing- but only because you asked me too, no one else gets the privilege.”
I playfully narrowed my eyes at her. “They better not.”
She took a deep breath while shutting her eyes as I played the tune on the guitar.
"I’m hoping you weren’t heaven sent cause only hell knows where you’ve been. Your built composure’s wearing thin and all your walls are caving in. Before you shut this down, I just wanna lift you up. I’ll take all this love I found and I hope that it’s enough."
We both could hear the ache in our hearts as it bled out, the lyrics mean so fucking much right now.
"Now don’t you shut this down. Ooh no don’t you give this up. I took all this love I found and I hope that it’s enough. Is it enough? If we don’t bend, then this might break. Please don’t give into this pain. Just keep on counting down the days and dream of me to keep you safe."
Y/n opened her eyes to meet mine, a blaze of passion that cut deep into my bones.
"Before you came around I was lost and out of place. You’re the only love I found and I’m hoping that you’ll stay. Please stay."
As we played on together in perfect harmony, there was one thing bright in clear in my mind: I'd stay for as long as she let me.
"Fuck," she breathed. "I forgot how much I loved singing this song."
I nodded in agreement while setting the guitar down next to me. "It's one of my favorites. It's actually what got me into Hollow Souls. I'd been hooked on your voice since that first night on Nick's couch all those years ago when I first heard it."
Y/N beamed when an idea struck her with such force, she stumbled to her feet. "I have to talk with Chase and Malcolm about something."
She took off a few steps in front of me, clearly excited about this idea she had. As we reached the rest of the guys, Y/N made a beeline toward Chase to tell him about her idea while I walked up to Nick and Folio, the former giving me a look.
"So my date idea was good, huh?" He playfully jabbed my side.
I pushed him away with a groan of embarrassment. "Fuck off, Nicholas."
"Oh, he pulled out the full name," Folio teased.
Jolly and Bryan joined us as we finished packing up the van and when I glanced over to Y/N, I noticed Malcolm pinching her cheeks playfully and she smacked his hands away, her cheeks flushed with her own embarrassment and large smile.
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NOAH
"Oh wow, look at all of these beautiful people tonight!" Y/N's voice carried through the sold-out arena.
It was the last show of tour and Hollow Souls just took the stage for their set. We could feel the nerves radiate off of all three of them all the way where we stood on the stage to watch them. This was new what they planned on doing tonight but the three of them spent the rest of last night after we parted ways at the hotel and all morning and afternoon today practicing nonstop a new setlist. They wanted to show everyone tonight the first step towards the new Hollow Souls.
"Where's Noah?!" a voice yelled from the crowd.
Jolly chuckled from beside me. "Think they'll be upset you don't show up tonight?"
I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. "I hope not. This is something that they need to prove they can do. The fans need to have faith in Hollow Souls."
"Well, about that," Malcolm spoke into his microphone while adjusting his bass strap.
"Now before you all start booing us off the stage," Chase spoke next from his spot above on his makeshift drum stage. "Noah has been fucking killing it not only with Bad Omens this tour but also helping us out a lot. But tonight, we wanted to do something a little different. We still have our guitar tech filling in for us!"
The crowd cheered for their guitar tech, which made him give an awkward wave.
"I know this may take getting used to, but we appreciate your support in doing what’s right for us and our band," Y/N said. "It means so fucking much to all of us you still showed up tonight even knowing Trey is no longer with us. For that, we're going to give you a kick ass show you deserved. Don't give up on Hollow Souls. We cut out the disease and are ready to fucking blossom."
Y/N peered over to me and with a small wave and wink, she sang the first few lyrics of Only Love.
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NOAH
Darkness cascaded over my sleeping form, a brush of moonlight breaking through the curtains pulled tight in our hotel room, and I buried myself deeper into the cocoon of blankets. Sleep was within my grasp and after the last few weeks, the thought of finally being able to sleep in my own bed back at home made it that much easier to grasp it.
Until my phone buzzed from its place on the nightstand and my hand smacked around until it grabbed it. Through hazy vision, I blinked a few times for the words to clear.
Hey, are you awake?-Angel.
I sat up in bed and rubbed away the rest of the sleep from my eyes. It only meant one thing when someone texted you the typical you up text.
Yeah, couldn't sleep.
Bullshit, you were seconds away from waking up Nick with your snoring.
I stared at the bubbles that appeared on my screen and then disappeared, only to reappear right before her next text came through.
Would it be alright if I came by to hang out? Or is it too late?
The clock at the top of my screen showed it was just before midnight.
Not at all. I've got snacks, and we can finally finish watching Spirited Away. Room 392
Be there in five minutes. I'll bring some goodies too! :)
I chucked a pillow at Nick, who was fast asleep in his bed, but when he remained sleeping, I threw another. Eventually, he groaned, slowly waking up.
"You need to leave." I scrambled out of bed and pulled away the blankets from Nick. "Y/N's coming by to hang out."
Nick smoothed down his bedhead, a sly smirk on his lips. "You're kicking me out right now?"
"Fuck yes I am. Go bunk with Bryan or Matt," I said while changing out of my old gray sweats for a pair of black joggers, opting to put on a shirt.
He yawned before grabbing the things he would need and dragged his feet to the door, sending a text to whoever he bunked with.
"Be safe!" Nick called out before the door shut behind him.
With seconds to spare, I quickly tidied up the room then set up a variety of snacks and pulled up the movie on my laptop, setting it on the bed just in time for a soft knock to sound on the door. I let out a few deep calming breaths and did a quick once over of myself in the mirror.
"Hi," I smiled once I opened the door.
Y/N's eyes grazed over every inch of me as she shifted on her feet in the doorway, clutching a bag close to her chest. She was dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized shirt.
"Do you always sleep shirtless?" she asked with a raised brow.
I stepped to the side, allowing her to step inside the room. "Every hotel room I sleep in can't get any colder than seventy degrees. I need it to be at least sixty-eight. I run hot when I sleep and the guys know not to mess with the thermostat back home."
"Wow, good to know. I'll keep my hands to myself when I come over," she wiggled her fingers after setting her bag down on the couch.
Please don't.
I peeked a brow. "When you come over?"
"Oh, if you thought you saw the last of me because the tour is over, you're wrong," she fell onto the couch with a huff of breath. "I'm moving to Los Angeles."
My heart thumped loudly in my chest but I did my best to hide my excitement when I sat next to her.
"You are?" I questioned.
She nodded with that room-brightening smile. "I had a long talk with Chase and Malcolm tonight and we thought it is best. With us trying to reinvent Hollow Souls it'd be good if we were together for the writing process. Malcolm already found a place big enough for us and while he's going there to get things ready, Chase is flying back with me to Vegas to help me pack my things."
I shifted in my seat, resting my arm against the back of the couch, behind Y/N. "Do you think Trey will be there?"
"Probably but that's why Chase is coming with me; in case things go south."
"I could come too if you'd like," I stumbled over my words only slightly.
Y/N rested a hand on my knee and squeezed it. "You need to stop worrying so much about me, Noah. I can't ask you to change your plans for something I should do on my own."
"You're worth it, angel," I vowed while running a finger through the soft waves of her hair.
We stayed in that position for a minute longer, simply staring into each other's eyes, and when I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, Y/N let out a soft whine. The thick tension that always seemed to be around us intensified now, and it was almost hard to breathe, let alone keep my thoughts off the way her hand grazed a few inches higher on my thigh.
I cleared my throat while nodding to the bag next to her. "What did you bring?"
"Oh," she snapped out of her trance and set it on her lap. "Last tour, I started this tradition on the final night I celebrate by doing self-care."
She pulled out an array of masks and different colors of nail polish and then set them on the small coffee table in front of us.
"Sweet, hand me one," I nodded towards the masks.
"You do masks?" Y/N giggled.
"What, you think I get this perfect skin with just water?" I jeered with a smile.
For the next while, we sat with our face masks on and watched the movie on the small screen of my laptop. It took almost no convincing from her to paint my nails black; her choosing a burgundy color for her nails. But now, what she was trying to convince of me gave me a slight pause.
"I don't know, angel. I don't let just anyone touch my hair," I said while putting away my laptop, us finishing the movie.
Y/N moved to the chair that sat in the room's corner and had her legs spread wide. "It's a good thing I'm not anyone. Now, get your ass over here and let me braid your hair."
For added effect, she pouted her bottom lip out and gave me those big doe eyes.
"Fine," I sighed before sitting on the floor between her legs, my back to her.
I shivered under her touch as she raked her fingers through my hair to break apart the small knots that gathered while I slept earlier.
"So, which Greek God is your favorite?" I asked.
She hummed. "Without a doubt, Medusa. Her story is tragic and sometimes often told wrong but that's the thing with mythology; there are so many different versions, you just have to choose which one you believe more."
"Medusa is the one with the snake hair, right?"
"Yeah," she turned my head to the left as she began braiding that side. "Some stories said she was an original gorgon sister but recent tellings from Ovid say she was a beautiful maiden who worked in Athena's temple. Poseidon saw her from afar and just like Zeus always did, Poseidon decided he wanted Medusa. He had sex with her on the temple steps and Athena punished her by turning her into the gorgon with snake hair and cursed any man to turn to stone when they looked at her."
I whistled low. "Shit, Greek gods were assholes."
Y/N snorted. "You don't even know the half of it."
Once she finished the left side, she turned my head to the right so she could start on that side.
"How'd her story end?"
"In tragedy, like every other myth. Perseus was sent to behead her by King Polydectes of Seriphus because Polydectes wanted to marry Perseus's mother. The gods were well aware of this, and Perseus got help. He received a mirrored shield from Athena, sandals with gold wings from Hermes, a sword from Hephaestus, and Hades's helm of invisibility."
"Wait," I turned to look up at her, which made her chastise me because I messed up the braid. "Athena, who turned her into this monster, helped the guy who was sent to kill her?"
"Fucked up, I know."
With stern hands, she turned my head to the right again. "Since Medusa was the only one of the three Gorgons who was mortal, Perseus could slay her; he did so while looking at the reflection from the mirrored shield he received from Athena. During that time, Medusa was pregnant by Poseidon so when Perseus beheaded her, Pegasus, the winged horse, and Chrysaor, a giant wielding a golden sword, sprang from her body."
"Oh Pegasus, from the Disney Hercules," I noted.
"That movie is so wrong but what do you expect for a kids' movie," Y/N chuckled then slapped her thighs. "All finished."
She showed me my reflection through her camera on her phone and I couldn't stop the smirk that pulled at my lips.
"I'll have to admit, angel. I look good with braids," I admitted while snatching her phone from her.
"Hey, what are you doing?!" She asked while reaching for it.
I leaned far back from her and posed for a few selfies. "I thought you'd like an updated selfie of me. I know you have the other two I sent you a few weeks ago."
With a red face, she snatched her phone back and held it close to her chest. "I do not."
Bullshit.
"Right, then let me see your pictures," I teased while kneeling in front of her, hands resting on her thighs, her skin ablaze with heat.
She swallowed thickly. "Fuck you, Sebastian."
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READER
I swallowed thickly while clutching my phone to my chest, knowing that he was correct about saving those two selfies he sent me before.
"Are you going to look at the selfie I took?" Noah taunted.
With a breath, I peered down at the phone only to suck in a large breath, body shivering underneath his warm touch on my thighs.
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"That's your new contact picture, mochi," I smirked while setting it and leaned deeper in the couch, not realizing that I pressed my core closer to Noah's face.
His eyes burned as his gaze darted from between my legs up to my face and his tongue darted out to wet his lips, almost imagining the taste.
"Angel," his voice was deep, it rumbling in his chest.
All the heat shot straight to my pussy as it clenched with desire, something that always happened when around Noah. Before, I took care of myself with this exact image in my mind but now that it was about to happen made me buzz with excitement.
"Can I?" He asked while breathing over my lap.
I raised my hips towards his face, all morals or thoughts if this was the best idea flew out of the window. We waited long enough for this moment ever since we shared that kiss so long ago. I wasn't a religious person at all but fuck, did I pray to Aphrodite about this moment countless times.
"Please," the word choked out on my lips.
With a low growl, Noah pulled me off of the chair and tossed me onto the bed before he crawled between my spread legs. His long fingers hooked the waistband of shorts and panties pulling them off in almost a quick snap and when blazed eyes stared down at my bare pussy, I tried to close my legs.
"Don't," Noah demanded while gripping my thighs tight to spread my legs again. "Don't hide a fucking thing from me, angel."
Shit.
"I've never actually-," The words died on my lips when I felt embarrassed about what I was about to say.
Noah leaned over me. "Wait, are you going to say what I think you're going to say?"
I turned my head away from him. "He never wanted to go down on me."
Noah cursed while cupping my chin so I could meet his gaze. "Don't think about him, angel. Just lay back and enjoy this."
I did my best to nod in his grasp. "Okay."
He suddenly crashed his lips to mine in a fiery, passionate kiss, as he forced his tongue past my lips to taste every inch of my mouth and I moaned into it, nails scratching against the bare skin of his chest. Noah's teeth dragged over my bottom lip as his hand dragged down my side to slide up underneath my shirt, fingers pinching at my nipples.
"Noah," I breathed while breaking apart from the kiss.
He buried his face into the crook of my neck to breathe me in. "Say it again."
I did, over and over like a mantra, as he left a mark on the skin of my neck while his hand switched to the other breast, mimicking his actions from before. The wetness that pooled between my legs was almost a new feeling, never being this turned one, and for a moment I wondered if it would be alright; no pain.
Noah helped me sit up so he could pull my shirt over my head and soon was laying bare in front of him, hair sprawled around my head.
"Fuck, angel. You're fucking beautiful."
For the longest time, I was told something different from how I looked. So hearing the truth and sincerity from Noah made me almost close my legs in front of him. But with his tight grip on my hips to keep me locked against the bed, I knew he could read my thoughts.
"Don't go there. Stay here with me," he said before his lips pressed over every inch of skin from my lips to my chest, down my stomach, and stopped right about my pussy.
I whined the smallest of sobs when Noah took his time, lips ghosting over me. By now I was almost begging and when I finally felt the wet flick of his tongue against my clit, I breathed out a shaky curse. Noah pressed the fullness of his tongue against my lips, licking me up from the bottom to the top, spreading my legs wider apart. I bit my hand to keep the noises at bay.
"I want to hear you," he left a gentle bit on the inside of my thigh.
"Fuck," I moaned when his tongue speared inside of me for a few strokes.
My hands now grasped at the blanket beneath me as I raised my hips farther into his mouth, his lips wrapping around my clit to bite and suck at the bundle of nerves. I always thought my Gspot was in my clit because it was hard to have an orgasm any other way than rubbing myself. Without even telling Noah this, it was as if he knew exactly what my body needed.
It happened so fast, before I knew it he was devouring me like a dying man. I’ve never felt euphoria until now; this must be how it feels to see the moon, the moon that changes its orbit. He had me spinning.
"I love the way you taste, angel." Noah broke away from my clit for a second before diving back it.
The familiar feeling of an orgasm built in my stomach, the tension pulling so fucking tight it was seconds away from snapping. My spine tingled with anticipation as my body tensed, knees shaking underneath Noah as he rubbed his tongue in faster but shorter circles, moaning with the taste that lingered on his lips.
"N-noah. 'M so close," I let my head fall back deeper into the mattress.
"Let go, I've got you."
With a strangled breath, I let the orgasm crash through me like a tsunami, a bright white light edging at the corners of my eyes while Noah licked me through the last few aftershocks. As my breathing calmed, I lifted my head in time to see him stand to his feet, stepping out of his joggers only to stand in front of me in his black briefs.
I licked my lips when I saw his cock straining against the confines of the material until he palmed himself in a few strokes.
"Do you want me to stop?" He asked.
I shook my head with desperation clear in my voice. "No, please. I need this-I need you, Noah."
He cursed before sliding off his briefs with desperation and urgency, his hard cock springing against his thigh, and I nearly died at that sight alone. All of my imagination did nothing compared to the real thing, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared for a few different reasons. Sex with Trey was uncomfortable but with Noah's size, I feared it would only hurt. The only saving grace was that he worked me open and the added wetness would make up for the slight pain.
"Are you on anything?" Noah asked while kneeling between my legs.
A lot of different shit.
"No," I said.
He leaned over to a bag that lay at the foot of the bed and rummaged around for a few seconds before retrieving a condom. I watched with anticipation as pre-cum seeped out of the slit when he ripped it open and slid it over his length then perched himself between my legs again, the head of his cock pressing gently against me. He wrapped one of my legs around his hip then slowly, sunk deep inside of me, and I bit my tongue hard to keep my strangled cry quiet. I knew there was going to be some pain; it was inevitable, but I didn't expect it to feel so good either.
"Fuck," Noah rested his forehead against my collarbone. "So tight."
He didn't move at first, relishing in the way I felt gripping his cock, and I couldn't take it anymore; I needed him to move.
"Noah," I begged while grinding against him.
One hand gripping my thigh, the other was placed next to my head to keep himself supported as he finally moved his hips in slow, deep strokes.
"Faster," I panted, almost pleading.
Slow was good but right now I needed fast.
Noah accepted my pleas and began slamming into me with such force, I cried out in name with a mixture of pleasure and pain. My hand slipped between our bodies to rub at my clit, hoping that the sensation would ease the pain a bit, but it could only do so much.
He noticed something was wrong with the way my face contorted in pain. "Angel, do you want to get on top?"
"Fuck yes, please."
Still buried deep inside of me, Noah rolled our bodies so now I was straddling him and almost immediately, the pain subsided; it was still there but not as strong. My hands sprawled over the tattoos that covered his chest as I leaned down to lick my way across the snake and apple on his neck. The noise he made, and his moans were so soft as my hot tongue went up and down his neck, I grazed over his Adam's apple with my teeth and bit down. Noah shook underneath me as he wrapped an arm around my back to hold me closer, burying his thick, aching cock, deeper inside of me.
We felt the rush, the aching, burning blush. We surrendered to the touch. I gave him a show. This is heaven in hiding.
"Angel," he begged as my teeth worked on leaving a mark against the hand on his neck. "I need-."
"What do you need?" I ground my hips against his pelvis and the sensation sent sparks to my clit and I clenched around him.
"Fuck," he cursed. "Don't stop what you're doing. It feels so good."
"Oh," I bit down on a new patch of skin on his throat. "This?"
"Yes," he dragged out the S for a few seconds.
My hands went to run through his hair but I almost forgot in our haste that I braided it a few minutes before this.
"Angel," Noah's voice was raw. "You have no idea how much I've wanted you."
I sat up slowly to stare down at him in awe as his words made me feel unspeakable things.
In one quick action, his hand snaked behind my head to pull my lips back down to him to kiss me feverishly.
"Noah," I tugged on his braids.
"Shit, give me a minute. I can take them out."
I didn't stop moving my hips against him. "Noah. I-."
"Just second, angel."
His hands left their vice grip on my hips to take out his hair but I quickly slapped his hands while sinking deeper on his cock. "Leave them."
The same sensation of a cresting orgasm filled every inch of me, ecstasy shooting through my veins like a drug, and when Noah's thumb pressed fast circles against my clit, I leaned my head up towards the ceiling, lips parting as my hands wrapped around his braids, pulling with such force he choked on my name. I rode Noah faster, needing that last little bit of friction to tip me over the edge and when I finally let the bliss plow through me in droves, I held my breath.
"Angel," Noah cupped my cheek so I could look down at him. "Breathe through it with me."
I did as he said, both of us breathing out my orgasm as our eyes locked intently with each other. I writhed against him, my arousal soaking the condom and parts of his hips. It was such a simple action but the way it set my body on fire intensified the aftershocks to something I'd never experienced. Noah stared down to the place where we met and with a noisy moan, he wrapped an arm tighter around me to pull me flush against his chest as his hips stilled for a second before he emptied himself inside the condom.
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NOAH
I pressed light kisses all along Y/N's shoulder blades, in shock and almost slight jealousy as I took in every inch of the large tattoo that covered her back. It was of a large snake that wrapped along every groove of her spine with an array of different Japanese flowers.
Afterward, I let her fall onto the mattress with a happy sigh, immediately grasping the pillow closer to her chest and that's when I noticed the tattoo.
"I can't believe I've never noticed this before," I mused while running a finger over the ink.
"It's taken like two years to complete. It's my second favorite after the one on my leg of the Gods," she rested her chin on her palm. "You know what I just realized? We have similar tattoo themes; copy cat."
Her finger grazed over the snake and apple along my neck.
"Yeah," I chuckled. "All you need is an apple right here."
I smacked right above her ass and she shrieked while falling into the pillow once again, a long but content sigh falling from her lips. I kissed from between her shoulder blades down her back, my nails grazing beyond the wake of my lips.
"Are you okay?" I wondered while gently squeezing her hips.
“Yeah, I think so. I feel content, just basking in it. You?”
I nodded and kissed the side of her head as I lay next to her. "I feel great."
"Do you know what you want in 10 years?" Y/N blurted out.
“That’s a random question” I chuckled while kissing her lips.
She sighed and looked up at me through her lashes. “I know but think about it, like really think about it?”
I thought deeply about her question, fingers still grazing her spine. “Alright I’ll bite, I don’t know, I’ve always been trying to make it with whatever bullshit has been going on in my fucking life- just wanting to mean something to somebody, make music- for anybody out there to listen. To be the fucking king you know?”
She laughs. "And?"
"Way down the road maybe one day in the future- to live in the middle of nowhere with a dog, cats, and a family of my own. In my wooden home that I built."
Y/N's body went rigid with my words.
"But right now, no dog, no family just…just Bad Omens," I finished with a hopeful breath.
She hummed in response but turned her head to face the wall opposite of us, something bothering her. Not wanting to push it, I left another kiss on her spine before I slipped out of bed to discard of the condom in the bathroom trash, a light red color catching my attention.
Once back in the room, I slipped back underneath the covers.
"Angel?"
Another hum vibrated from her throat, sleep weighing heavy on her shoulders.
"Did you get your period?"
I swore I saw all the breath leave her body with my question and my mind panicked, thinking she was embarrassed.
"It's fine," I rubbed her back soothingly. "I just saw some blood on the condom, that's all."
When she still said nothing, I nudged her face with my nose. "Are you alright?"
"Yep," she said quietly.
"Stay till morning?" I asked, hopefully.
Finally, she turned to face me and left a kiss on my nose. "I have to go."
My heart fell into the dark pits of my stomach as I watched her slip out from underneath the sheet to gather her clothes. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing, Noah." She slipped back into her clothes rather quickly. "I just have an early flight to catch and I know you have one too."
I shook my head and stood to my feet while slipping my briefs and joggers back on. "I don't buy that. We were great, where did you go just now?"
She doesn't want to leave, I can see that in the way her movements slowed once she was dressed, almost as if she was buying time for me to say something that would change her mind. But she refused to meet my gaze.
"Angel, look at me. What's the matter?" I asked again.
"Nothing-," she began with a sigh.
"Then why won't you stay?"
The fear of her slipping between my fingers was debilitating.
"Noah, you know I can’t; we can’t," Y/N stumbled over her words.
I stretched my arms out wide at my sides. "Why? Why can’t you?"
With her gaze still cast down to her feet, she shook her head. "You don’t want me Noah, trust me, you don’t want any part of this."
"Bullshit," I spat as my anger got the best of me.
Y/N's head snapped up towards me, finally looking me in my eyes and all I saw in hers were the wetness of tears. "I have this condition that already makes my life harder every fucking month. I don't need to bring you into it and ruin our future, alright?"
My heart stopped for a few seconds. "Condition? What the fuck, are you dying or something? I don't know what the hell this means."
"No," she rushed out. "I'm not dying. I-I don't want to get into this right now. All I know is that I would need you a lot more than you'd need me. And you deserve better than me, anyway."
"Don't-" I started while pointing a finger at her.
She ran a distressed hand through her hair. "You know it’s true Noah, please. This is hard enough as it is. Walking out right now."
The bed stood between us and I hated feeling so far from her even though we were still in the same room so I walked around it, standing a few inches in front of her now.
"I’ve been through a lot of shit in my life too, Y/N. Don’t sit there and tell me what I can and can’t handle. Don’t sit there and tell me what I want or don’t want. You’re just so afraid of us," I pointed between us.
She grasped her elbows to hug herself and I could see the way her mind was running, gears turning hastily. Y/N was shutting down in front of me and I fucking hated it.
"Don’t fucking do that. I’m not him," I assured her with a gentler tone.
All of this was a trauma response, something so embedded deep into her brain that it was the only way she knew how to act. I know she felt the same way that I did; it was clear with what happened not even an hour ago. If she didn't feel the way I did, she wouldn't have shown up tonight. Y/N wants to stay, I can see it in the way her eyes keep darting to the bed but the pain and trauma were too deep.
"I’m sorry angel, I just- you’re wrong. I know how I feel about you, and I know what you feel about me."
I went to reach for her hands but she took a step back, a few tears falling to the ground below.
"I know what I feel. It’s not you, it’s me, Noah."
Not that fucking line.
"No. Fuck, angel! Stop! The future hasn't even happened yet. Please, don't-what do you need to happen?"
Her bottom lip trembled as a broken sob clawed its wait through her throat. "I-I think we need to remain friends right now. I can't-I can't get lost in you, Noah. It's so fucking easy to. I think we need space."
"I-I don't fucking want that, Y/N. I just want you."
"Noah, please understand where I'm coming from," she begged.
I paced the room, hands shaking in anger. Defeat? I wasn't sure.
"Angel-I. Please, just-," I eventually sighed in defeat.
"I'm going to head out."
Y/N nodded towards the door after gathering her things and stepped past me to leave.
The fear of losing her completely is what made me give in to her wishes. As much as I wanted to fight her choice, I needed her as a friend more than something more. I'll take what I can get for right now until she realizes she feels the same; I know she does.
As she opened the door, my feet closed the distance between us in two large steps and I grasped her chin, forcing her to look at me. The tears burned with the need to fall but she held fast and strong, refusing to show me how badly walking away was affecting her.
I brushed my lips across hers in a soft kiss. "I can wait for you."
She tried to disagree but my grip was too strong. "Noah- I can’t ask you to do that. That’s not fair. You deserve-"
“Don’t tell me what you think I deserve." I let out a shaky breath. "Look, heaven knows I’m not getting over you, I can wait”
“Besides. I’m known for having a lot of fuckin patience. I will wait." I finished with a shrug.
If I wasn't already staring intently at her, I almost would have missed the small nod she gave me; but I didn't. I saw it.
“Goodnight Noah.”
With one final kiss, not enough to remember the way she tastes, Y/N let the door shut behind her as I burned my hateful gaze through it. She left? How the fuck could she just leave after the night we had together?
No, fuck that.
I barreled through the door in time to notice she was only two doors down, frozen in her spot.
"Angel," I called after her.
Slowly, she turned, and I sucked in a breath when I saw the redness in her eyes, puffy with teh tears she let out as soon as the door closed. Mine mirrored hers.
"Please," I begged. "Just come back to me. I'll wait for you."
Y/N hesitated but within that hesitation, something stood out clear as day; she took a small step towards me until that doubt filled the back of her mind yet again. I stayed in the hallway watching as she turned the corner, disappearing from my vision and life; my words not being enough to make her stay.
Back inside the room, I let the door slam shut and made a beeline toward the minibar. I screwed off the cap of the Hennessy, downing half of it in one go.
"Bitter ends to the night. I'm along for the ride," I raised the bottle in the air before taking another long, slow gulp with my eyes screwed shut.
Suddenly, they snapped open, and I rummaged around the mess of my room for my phone, quickly typing out a text to Jolly.
I need to write a song, now.
Only a few minutes passed before he responded, just enough time for me to pop open another bottle.
Now? It's three in the morning and we have nothing here.
Doesn't fucking matter. I'll figure it out. Come to my room.
Letting the bottle slip from my fingers, I stalked over to the wall and slid down until my ass hit the floor with a thud; the image of Y/N crying and walking away burned into my brain. I was out of breath, out of time trying to stop her but, in the end, everything has a price. And I was paying for it. 
323 notes · View notes
thesupreme316 · 8 months
Note
hi i never requested before but how would aew boys react to you being in wwe and winning money in the bank and cashing in if you can can you add Christian Cage and Kenny Omega💚
AEW Stars React to: You Winning Money In the Bank and Cashing It In
Pairings: Christian Cage x Reader, Kenny Omega x Reader, Hook x Reader, Daniel Garcia x Reader, Samoa Joe x Reader, Ricky Starks x Reader, Eddie Kingston x Reader
Word Count: 1.3K
Supreme Speaks: hi anon and thanks to requesting (welcome to the dark side). I hope everyone reading this enjoys it. Please remember that you are loved and appreciated.
Warnings: not proofread, GIFS AINT MINE, mentions of reader are gender neutral until specified
Taglist: @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @triscillal @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey @cassie0sstuff
Backstory:
You worked all year long and you proved yourself to be strong and powerful enough to compete in the Money In The Bank (men’s or women’s; whichever you prefer)
So this first 20-minutes of the match was spent with you bouncing off of ladders, using weapons to your advantage, diving off the top rope onto your opponents, and making memorable moments for the crowd
Finally, after damn near thirty minutes, you climbed the ladder for the final time and pulled down the briefcase to thunderous cheers. You smiled so hard that your mouth started to hurt as you went to the back to watch the rest of the PPV
BUT THEN
You noticed during a championship match (although it was already over), that the champion was injured. You grabbed your briefcase and a referee and ran to the ring as your theme song played (and the crowd gave the biggest pop in your career).
You cashed in the briefcase as the champion looked at you in disbelief and disgust. As soon as the bell rung, you performed your finishing move and got the victory (pinball or submission; I aint picky)
With tears of joy, you received your newly won championship. You celebrated with the crowd and your family/friends who were in attendance before going to the back where someone else made their happiness for you loud and clear…
Christian Cage
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THIS MAN IS BEYOND HAPPY
What really popped him was the fact you used his chair move to your advantage
As someone who helped popularize the use of ladder matches, he was subconsciously dissecting your match
He did get scared a couple of times, but he still had faith in you
When you cashed it in, Christian damn near screamed his head off
Luchasuarus had to keep himself from laughing as Christian damn flew off the chair
Immediately called you and told you how proud he was; sent you flowers that arrived seconds after he said it
“How did-“
“I decided on a neutral message just in case of things…don’t read the other side”
I honestly think that he would reference you in promos to show how good his life is
Ricky Starks
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THIS MAN CANNOT BE STOP PART 69 (wink wink)
He actually came with you backstage and sat with Cody and Brandi as he watched you own the night
He was the first person you hugged backstage, he made sure of it
Ricky was more concerned about your health than you winning the matches, so he’s just happy that you’re okay
Posts a pic dump of you getting ready, you winning, y’all hugging and shit
Can’t shut up about it while also taking credit for some moves
“That spear off the ladder was my idea…what do you mean Edge did it first?….I told you that yo-someone has an ego problemm”
After you have relaxed and rested for a couple of hours, it’s time that you guys actually celebrate
Or as Ricky likes to call it “Stroke Daddy Time”
Kenny Omega
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This nice too bean will always be supportive of you
Posted not-so-subtle pictures of him in your merchandise
Was the first one to congratulate you publicly and privately
Kenny is the one to also dissect your match but just looking for inspiration for future matches
Although he couldn’t attend, he was on FaceTime as you received your title plates and photoshoot (hyping you up all the way)
“LOOK AT Y/N! YOU LOOK GREAT, YOUR TITLE LOOKS GREAT-Is that Austin Creed near you? Y/N run away”
I think after Kenny would have (unironically) the customizable pants with your face everywhere on it
I also think that Kenny would have ring gear that refers to your historical night
Calls you his lil bout machine (aww, aint y’all so cute…throws up)
Eddie Kingston
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Okay listen man’s is so damn proud of you
Like Kenny, he couldn’t attend (also, despite your matches, he didn’t wanna be in attendance) but he made sure that you knew how happy he is for you
Posted a pic dump of your wins with a simple caption: “They did it mothafuckas”
Eddie will spam you with texts ranging from congratulations to lemme hold the title
I also think it would encourage Eddie to work harder in the ring so both of you can be on top of the world
If you’re a woman (or go by female pronouns), I guarantee you (motherfucking guarantee you) he will make a post or a shoot interview about how important women’s wrestling is
“Did you see what Y/N did? That was revolutionary! See what happens when you support women’s wrestling….douchebags”
He would proceed to tell everyone…including Claudio…how you’re now the only person he likes and tolerates
Hook
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Baby boy is looking at you with stars and hearts in his eyes
He was just so astounded that you were able to achieve two things within one night
I have this idea that Hook sneaks backstage (aka no one really knows when or how he got backstage; or when he leaves/appears) basically he’s Batman
So like no one saw Hook come backstage but two and two together when they saw you hug
Whispers to you when you’re close enough how much he admires you
“To be honest, you’re the coolest person I’ve ever met. And tonight solidified it.”
Doesn’t post a dump but will instead post a simple behind-the-scenes pic on his story
Expect him to tell the Lads….and then prepare for the Lads to post about you
Samoa Joe
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HEHEHE MY MAN
As a man who was in WWE, he understands how important this was to you and is happy that you survived
I bet he would get you a shirt that says “I survived my first money-in-the-bank match”
Joe def cackled when you did his whole “walk away” shtick when someone was trying to dive off the ladder
“I TAUGHT EM THAT! I DID THAT SHIT! It’s funnier when I do it tho.”
I think Joe would also give you a heart-to-heart about the business and how much this will impact your career
Is excited to see how your character will evolve from here
Def gives you ideas to turn heel and become a menace in the division
Daniel Garcia
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SOMEONE WOULD NEED TO TASE THIS MAN-
He would not be able to shut up; you would need to duct tape his mouth shut and then take his voice box
Spam tweets and deletes the ones where people would raise eyebrows at him
Pretends to be a crazed fanboy like how he is for Blackpink (or Twice)
“OMG Y/N! KICK ME DOWN THE STAIRS! SPEAR ME-“
For your celebration, I can see Daniel taking you to a nightclub with Isiah (you will be appearing on the vlog, you have no choice)
And then another club….and then a bar…yeah bruh you getting blackout drunk (or at least hyped if you don’t drink)
Is genuinely happy for you (a lil jealous) and excited to see where you go from here
Also, he quietly asks for you to make an appearance in AEW
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pinkyjulien · 5 months
Text
I really, really hate the "Female V is canon" vs "Male V is canon" debate that been popping here and here in the tags those past weeks
Cyberpunk 2077 is a Role Playing Game, there is no "canon" protagonist, that's the whole point. We all have a different playstyles, different stories and headcanons, our custom V is The Canon V of Our Own playthroughs!
After Phantom Liberty dropped, I've seen a lot of players, on Tumblr or Twitter, voicing their concerne and disappointment in how much more Female V focused the official promo, videos and even in-game credits became
I was one of them too, expressing my feelings multiple times, sometimes awkwardly, frustrated that Male V players were once again brushed to the side, because that's how it feels like, right?
Well, it might feels like it, but this isn't the case AT ALL, far from it. This is only what I would call a "Fandom Phenomenon" and I want to talk more about it a bit
I had a great conversation with a friend of mine who works in the game industry and it opened my eyes on the matter, and I've since been really interested in seeing RPGs statistics!
Because it's really, really important to make the difference between the Casual Player Base (majority of players) and the Fans / Fandom Base (minority of players)
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I always been lurking in fandoms here on Tumblr, since Mass Effect, Dragon Age, and now with Cyberpunk 2077 and Baldur's Gate 3
First I want to drop some stats- might be completly wrong, but I'm only sharing my point of view here, in an attempt to explain why some people are frustrated with Female V being the focus (and why we shouldn't be!)
I think it's not wrong to say that fandoms are mostly occupied by women and fem-identifying individuals; fandoms are a safe place for players and fans to share their passions. Women are STILL HEAVILY harassed and hated in the gaming industry as a whole, it doesn't take a lot of digging to catch a vile comment on Twitter or on Twitch for example, you cannot go far without seeing someone either attacking or sexualizing them
This is a huge problem in the industry still, every games that release with a female protagonist get trashed- just look at the bullshit surrounding GTA 6 just because players will be able to play as a woman as an option
Fandoms are also safe for non-gender conforming people, non-binaries, trans people and queer men, but I think fem individuals and women are a clear majority, at least on Tumblr (only talking about genders identity here and not about being queer or not, not talking about sexualities or attraction) (not an official stat at all and only my point of view and experience from being on Tumblr since ~2012)
Now let's talk about Cyberpunk 2077- because this is my main fandom since 2020, and what prompted me to write this post in the first place
CDPR didn't share any stats recently, but it's REALLY SAFE to assume the MAJORITY of players are playing a straight Male V romancing Panam, followed by a lesbian Female V romancing Judy, but the player pools for both options are still majoritarly cis hetero men (and they are still the focus for AAA studios to sell their games, this is sadly just how it is)
However on the fandom side, Fem V was always the focus; virtual photography, mods, ships, OCs... She was always more popular than Male V, getting more interactions and notes and why trends like "Male V monday" were created and why there is still a lack of male V focused mods (non-binaries and trans fem folks and characters are also sadly under-represented in all type of content and art)
So, being yourself as a non-fem player, playing as a Masc V, seeing CDPR officially make the switch from Male V to Female V, when the space you've been in for the past 3 years has been overwhelmingly Female V focused on all front, was a bit of a punch in the guts; like I said earlier, I was reaaally frustrated with this too!
And I'd say it's "normal"? or at least "ok" to feel this way, it makes sense considering how little attention Male V in general get in the fans community
BUT. BUT... It's REALLY important here to realize how we sound and how we look like when we voice our frustrations on the matter; we sound and look just like all the misogynistic people over on Twitter who screams about "woke games" everytime there is a female protagonist in their "non political games". We have to remember that fandoms are suuuch a small part of the game industry
Baldur's Gate 3 recently shared their stats and this interesting tweet got into my dash
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▶ tweet
Astarion is nowhere to be seen in the official most romanced companions statistic, but I'm sure a lot of people will agree that he's probably the most popular one in the fandom side!
Another stat here from Mass Effect and really interesting info coming from David Gaider about how the hardcore fanbase aka fandom's choices were WILDLY different from the casual / main player pool
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▶ tweet
Getting my head out of the fandom bubbles and seeing the bigger picture, how much under-represented women still are in official medias (not talking about fan content) and how insanly misoginistic the game industry still is, both on the player and devs sides, helped me handle my own frustration on the matter, accept and even celebrate Female V being the focus for the Phantom Liberty campaign
With all that said tho, we all should be able to vent about the lack of Male, Masc and Non-Binary content in the fandom side, while still being aware of the industry state, it CAN co-exist! It doesn't make anyone a bad or misogynist person!
We are all humans and can be awkward and make mistakes, especially when voicing frustration or talking while in a negative mood. Let's educate one another in good-faithed manners when we slip instead of jumping to conclusion and throw accusations
Not gonna lie I kind of lost my train of thoughts and not sure how to finish this post, but I hope this can enlight some people on why CDPR made this choice!
Repeating this as a finale note; this doesn't mean that Female V is the "main" V or "canon" V . It's simply her time to shine, and it's well deserved! The industry needs it
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seelestia · 1 year
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A Blessed Imperfection [1/3]
(submitted by: @/hermosacolibri. all credits go to them, this work isn't mine!)
SYNOPSIS: Many consider your disability as a burden, but he finds a way to make it a blessing in disguise. What makes us flawed is what makes us unique, and that is what he considers the most beautiful thing about you—an imperfection he dearly adores. Nevertheless, he knows of your lingering sorrows and thus seeks a way to support you in the best way he could.
WARNING(S): symptoms of chronic/terminal illness, implications of mental instability, mentions of past trauma resulting to severe injury, possible triggers, panic attacks, sleep paralysis, hallucinations, etc…
CHARACTER(S):
Aether (as Traveler & Abyss Prince), Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Venti, Dainsleif
NOTE: I copy-pasted this from my Quotev so if the format turns bad, that’s why lmao. Part 2 will have the Zhongli and Ayato version I submitted with some other characters from the same nations. Part 3 will be Sumeru boys and Harbingers. I will submit them at a later date lol. Anyway, I would like to leave a shameless promo here for those interested in my writing. HERE is my Quotev. For those who wish to read about my collab story here on Tumblr, it is posted by my co-writer: @intothegenshinworld
AETHER is like a star in the abyssal sky, constantly in sight yet far out of mortal reach. He carries the wishes of others, granting them in acts of what shall be seen as miracles or blessings. When time arrives for departure, he shoots across the cosmos with a trail of light that leaves witnesses mesmerized. Alas, he whom was born half of a whole, the name of this Traveler is forever bound to that of another—his dear sister, Lumine. Due to these same ties, he undergoes a quest across Teyvat to find her. The promise of a reunion always uttered by his lips, hopeful and eager yet never taking for granted the steps he took.
The lonely young man is at odds with the world. He could barely trust anyone after some god caused him to separate from his younger sibling. However, this humble Viator continues to treat others amiably in hopes to be treated the same way. From nation to nation, the blond adolescent sought answers from this peculiar world that felt so nostalgic yet still so foreign to him. There are trying moments of grief and frustration, but also blissful days of celebration.
Throughout this path, it was entirely unexpected for him to develop an intimate attachment.
Aether was not a stranger to bittersweet partings, as someone whom has always hopped from one world to another. For this same reason, he and Lumine try not to get too invested in any realm they visit. It was better for them as well as for everyone else that welcome them so affectionately. There must always be a particular distance to maintain, since there can be no guarantee of their stay or return. A deeper tragedy is the knowledge they can easily outlive the dwellers of any world. Witnessing the birth and death of many stars since their youth, the twins have grown rather desensitized to friendships that would not last as long as their lifespan.
That is why this separation hits them where it hurts enough to leave a scar.
Then, there was you.
As a mere mortal in a world governed by gods, you are content to live your life the best way you know. It is a lifestyle that can change at your will. One day, you can be exploring as an adventurer. The next, you are a seamstress earning your keep for the week you plan to stay with the spinsters. Every other month, you do a variety of odd jobs that you have learned throughout your lifetime. As a human, you are most hyperaware that everything can be ephemeral…
…and someday, even your soul shall be relinquished to the judgment of Celestia.
Until then, it is yours to do as you see fit.
For this reason, you felt torn by the Pyro Vision that had been bestowed upon you. While most of your peers seek the blessing of the divine gaze, you have subconsciously sought to avoid it. Many saw it as a gift but you were raised under the notion that most presents come with strings. Earning the “eye of god” meant that you are under Celestia’s watchful gaze, thus binding you to the Heavenly Principles. Their elemental blessings taunt mortals to dare reaching for the stars, and gain a place amongst the divine if they are deemed worthy of it.
Well, you personally believe that only thineself can determine one’s worth—no other, not even the gods.
Nevertheless, you move forward. Keep going on a quest without a destination, as you always do, until this fleeting life comes to its inevitable end.
Needless to say, there is one thing you genuinely did not see coming—
“I am so sorry, Miss!”
—and that was meeting your soulmate.
“It’s fine.” You replied.
Aether scrambles to collect your things while you do the same at a more relaxed pace. Your satchel had become so worn that it took a small bump to finally snap the strap. Now, all your possessions have been scattered across the ground. Fortunately, the blond stranger is a very kind and considerate young man.
Once you got everything, said stranger wasted no time apologizing profusely again.
“I should have been looking where I was walking! It was my fault.”
You tilt your head, “You could just make it up to me and we can call it even.”
His aureate eyes beamed as he nodded with an eager smile. At that moment, you wonder if he is the personification of the sun.
You smiled serenely, “I’m [Name].”
He pauses, a flicker of doubt passing through his gaze. Quick as it came, it disappeared as he smiled back—a tad softer.
“Just call me Aether.”
That day, he bought you a new satchel.
When you were younger, your parents always said that one moment is the same as a thousand—you only need one. It was a proverb that both confused and unnerved you. After they died together due to sickness, the words were haunting as you buried them before leaving your village. Every moment was cherished by you, each one unique in the best and worst of ways. However, as both you and Aether keep crossing each other’s paths after one meeting, a part of you finally thrums to life in understanding.
At one point, Aether even sought you out for a joint commission together.
“Don’t you have a travelling partner?” You asked.
He laughs sheepishly, “He’s a bit busy doing other things. Also…”
A light blush colored his cheeks, looking away as he scratched his nape lightly.
“…I wanted to spend some time with you.”
You found him cute so you agreed.
On that particular day, Aether learned something new about you. It was the little things he had been noting every time you met. The way you sometimes slur even though not a drop of alcohol can be traced from your scent, how you try so hard to keep your emotions under a certain level of control, how your eyes randomly droop even when you always look so adequately well-rested, and the pills he saw you sneak into your meals/drinks—you were ill. Perhaps, it was not the traditional ailment that left you weak and bedridden. The scariest symptom has been the occasional hallucinations that distract you, since the more vivid ones tend to set off your Vision. Anything within a meter radius is either set aflame, or rises up in temperature. It is why you always remind him to keep a certain distance whenever you tend to space out. He never prodded because you gave him the same respect of privacy by never prying into his life, even if he saw the incessant curiosity he adored about you. Still, he looks after you because he had to admit he truly grew fond of you.
Then, on your way home, you just abruptly collapsed as if your entire body went boneless.
“[Name]—!!!”
Aether caught you just in time before your head hit the ground. He checks your temperature for a fever, and then searches for some wounds you might have missed. You have a high pain tolerance, which can sometimes be a disadvantage whenever an injury goes unnoticed. There was a time a scratch almost got infected, or even when you nearly bled out because a poison prevented coagulation.
When he saw no signs, the outlander lifts you up in his arms and calls for the nearest doctor.
Thankfully, nothing was amiss and you just needed to rest while adjusting your diet.
Aether witnessed the true horror of your condition when you abruptly woke up half past midnight. He was already passed out on your bedside, sat on the ground and his head resting on his forearms. The chaise lounge would have been practical, but the blond felt the urge to be near you. At some point, he just dozed off.
On the other hand, you jolted awake with a choked gasp and widened eyes of terror. It was not due to any frightening nightmare. This is just how it always goes every time you wake up: frozen stiff, terrified, and barely breathing. Your pupils dilate as your iris moved wildly to make sense of your surroundings, pointedly ignoring the shadows manifesting into something monstrous. The candle on the nightstand was unfortunately almost fully spent, flickering to its last embers of light. With every dance, the shadows seem to get closer and slithering to get their clawed hands on you.
Alas, the candlelight spares you one last hope of salvation amidst this merciless night.
Sunshine golden hair glowed, emitting a silver halo as moonlight peeked from the half-open blinds. As much as you are able, you desperately crane your neck to see your companion. Tears blur your sight but the silhouette is unmistakable to you. His warm breath blew against your fingers, centimeters away from his lips as he breathed. Chilling goosebumps ran across your skin yet you welcomed it, hoping to regain mobility from this nightmarish paralysis. Your hand twitched, wishing to get ahold of this precious little sun—uncaring if it burns.
If you are to be like Icarus, then you would prefer an end embraced by warmth and light…
…instead of ice and darkness.
Perhaps, pyro suited you for this reason.
Your lips purse, crying in anguish to speak.
“A…Ae…A-Aether…”
To your relief, that seems to be enough to awaken the young man. However, respite is all to brief as your chest seizes up. The mere act of breathing gets difficult, and your heartbeat grew alarmingly slow as it echoed alongside the tinnitus in your ears.
Aether blinks awake, expecting the grace of morning light. Instead, he was met with your agonized gaze in a darkening room. In an instant, he snaps into full attention as he cups your face. You cannot hear him but you can guess that he must be firing questions out of concern.
“[Name], what’s wrong?! Are you in pain? What can I do? How can I help?” He exclaimed.
You gasped and hoarsely coughed.
“C-Can’t…breathe…I…”
The blond quickly thinks back to whenever Lumine experienced minor panic attacks. He assumes this is relatively similar, so he hopes his next actions will help rather than harm. Gently and carefully, he takes you into his arms. Back against the headboard, the new position situates you comfortably on his lap as one arm is secured around your waist. He takes both of your trembling hands with his free one, directing them to rest against his sternum.
“[Name],” he says softly yet firmly, “I need you to focus on me, okay? Focus for me. Hey—”
He catches your frantic gaze around the room and mindfully tilts your head back to meet his stare. They are brimming with steadfast reassurance, not at all deterred by the dark beasts. Your head rests against his shoulder, as you do as he told—closing your eyes to only relish his warmth, consume his scent, and listen to his voice.
“Breathe with me. Inhale, exhale…”
His chest rises and falls, to which you mimic the rhythm in return.
“Feel my pulse, and use it as your center.”
One hand keeps hold of his and the other seeks his heart, obeying the instructions.
The hand connected to the arm securing your back drift to your hair. At that moment, you realize that Aether’s hands are ungloved. Wandering fingers comb through your strands, calming you down with a soothing pet. Little by little, you regain movement in your limbs yet you rest limply—content.
“That’s it.” Aether whispered, “You’re doing great. Just keep repeating the exercise with me.”
“Aether…”
“I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
You wept and sobbed, “Aether…”
“I know.” He murmurs as he cries with you, “You’ve been so strong, [Name]. Everything’s fine. You’re not alone anymore.”
You look up, “Promise?”
He looks back, “I promise.”
The hand on his chest reaches for his white scarf as you pull him down. He obliges as his grip on you tightened, holding you close while your free hands adjust to interlace with each other.
That was the first kiss of many.
Day or night, Aether stood by you. Every battle was fought together. Every quest was finished together, sometimes with his elusive partner named Dainsleif whom was later introduced to you. On the journey to search for his sister, he even renewed his vows.
“When we find her, you can come with us.”
You smile teasingly, “I don’t have world-hopping powers.”
He narrows his eyes at you, unyieldingly headstrong and determined.
“I’ll find a way to bring you with us anyway.”
He raises your hand to his lips with a sly grin.
“You’re not getting rid of me~!”
Aether cradled you in adoration as if you were an endless summer amidst the cold loneliness of his sister’s absence. You beheld him as if he was the sun bringing life to the paradise of your evanescent mortality. The pair of you were thriving happily, hand in hand, even after discovering the truth of this world—and dictating the journey’s end.
Then, your Vision broke mysteriously, and you were condemned to an enchanted sleep.
Aether cursed the divine and all of Teyvat for it. He figured this was his price for learning the truth, but taking you will be their gravest mistake. He severes his ties with Dainsleif, whom tried to console him into taking the righteous path. He viewed you as his friend as well, and he knew you would not want this for your lover.
Now, the Abyss Prince sits by your bed—waiting in forlorn hope. His ungloved knuckles caress your cheek lovingly. You were dressed in a nightgown with abyss colors, outlined by satin ribbons of silver and gold. A crown of inteyvat rested on your head, petals scattered across your spread locks draped over silk pillows. They have grown after the past centuries but he dutifully trims them to an acceptable length.
“Your Highness,” the Abyss Herald called, “it is time.”
Aether paused. His honey gaze hardens and his aura turns cold. He breathes deeply, eyes closed to lean down and leave a chaste kiss on your brow.
“I will return shortly, my love.”
He puts on his gloves, taking leave resolutely.
Even if the sun turns black, you will both find your way back to each other. Even as the moon is painted red, goodbye shall never be an option. Every star in the sky—false or otherwise—shall bear witness to a union that even the Heavenly Principles would dare not destroy. Should this world be torn asunder, the reckoning cannot spell departure for either you or Aether. This is the eclipse that will pave the way to a new world, as the Abyss Order entails.
For if fate can only be accepted, thy vows shath be sworn by royal decree—
“You are my predestined person, the one I will always choose.”
ALBEDO discovered that there is beauty in what the heart perceives which the eyes cannot see. As an artist, he can grasp onto the concept yet is unable to truly understand it since he heavily relies upon his sight. As an alchemist, whatever eludes him may come into being by his own hands and thus enable him to attain it. The pursuit of truth is a mere matter of time and place, preordained even if hidden. As the most prized creation of Rhinedottir, he was given the task of uncovering the truth of this world for himself as a purpose in life. Even if to exist is a sin in the eyes of Celestia, he must endure and keep moving forward to reach his answers.
Amidst such dedicated research, there was little time and effort to be spared for attachments. The Chief Alchemist of Ordo Favonius finds it much too difficult to maintain. Of course, exceptions has been made throughout the years. Aside from his master, he had bonded with Alice and Klee as family. He had also made friendships with his colleagues amongst the Knights of Favonius and his subordinates, whom he taught the art of alchemy. Alas, as an artificial human created by a sinner, he feels as if he can never belong anywhere. Regardless of these bonds, the Kreideprinz feels as if a part of his heart remains hollow. 
It came to him that this place was reserved for you, the apple of his eye.
Ever since Albedo met you, a new muse began to live within his heart. People consider it as seeing the world through rosy lenses; but for him, it felt as if everything appeared clearer than facts…
…and it was beautiful.
The sun shines brighter. The wind blows cooler. The grass looks greener. Therefore, life is that much greater and sweeter. He is still in pursuit of truth, yet he felt as if the magnum opus was already in his hands—molded in the shape of you.
His only lament was that you could not see it alongside him.
You were not born blind. It happened from an act of jealousy and unkindness. Before you came to the City of Freedom, you were a noblewoman dwelling in Fontaine and worked as an artist. Much like him, you love to paint and draw but Albedo always argues that you were better at it. He had seen your works long ago, and every single piece has never failed to inspire him. It was as if each painting can bequeath aspirations, letting it blossom from the hearts of the people that view it.
Then, news spread that your entire atelier was set on fire while you were still in it…
…and then, you lost your eyes.
The Hydro Vision in your hand may have been the sole reason you even survived. Many speculated that you can never make art the same way again.
You came to Mondstadt, wishing to break free from the suffocating experience. You struggled to regain your passion, overcome your sorrows.
Then, you met Albedo; and one thing led to another.
It started when you were taking a stroll in Springvale with your guide dog, Vincent. He is a very spirited Golden Retriever, protective and responsible. You both stumble upon a young girl named Klee, whom was busy fighting a bunch of hilichurls. You opted to stand aside and calm your snarling canine friend, petting his head. When your keen hearing detected irregular breathing and racing heartbeat, you realize that the little girl was getting overwhelmed. She must have fought other hoards before your arrival, and now you hear slimes joining the fray. Thus, you order Vincent to keep his distance and engaged.
Sword unsheathed from your walking cane, you attack the ones behind Klee. Her bombs startled you when they exploded too close, but your hydro shield easily deflected any friendly fire. Vapor damage is then redirected to the monsters, tempering the girl’s mines and lasers so your skin will not be singed by the building heat. Vincent was barking wildly like a supportive cheerleader, growling whenever you get nicked or whenever the other girl yelped.
Soon, the fight was over.
The pitter-patters of tiny feet went towards you, and stopped at an arm’s length. You look down, smiling kindly yet not sheathing your blade.
“Thank you for helping Klee!” She chirped.
You chuckle, “You’re welcome.”
Vincent came running towards you, shamelessly  nuzzling your legs. He then licks Klee’s hand in his own way of befriending her, causing the girl to giggle from the ticklish sensation. She hugs him around the neck, and you can only tilt your head in amusement.
“What’s your name, Miss?”
“You may call me [Name].”
The hairs at your nape rose. Although you can see nothing else but darkness, your eyes also snapped open with a dark glower. By instinct, you swung your sword to strike whomever snuck behind you.
A resounding clang echoed in your ears, as metal struck against metal. Another sword has parried yours skillfully yet makes no move to counter.
“Brother Albedo…!” Klee exclaims.
Upon realization that this is no stranger, you swiftly disengaged with a soft apology. The gesture was returned as the man apologized for startling you. To your amazement, Vincent did not seem to be wary of this newcomer. The dog merely barked gruffly, a bit admonishing, instead of growling defensively like he always did.
“You dropped this.” Albedo said.
You hesitantly presented your hand to receive whatever he was giving. A familiar cloth is placed on your palm. You belatedly realized that it was your blindfold. It is a durable silk fabric that kept your burn scars from showing. Your disfigured face has been exposed all this time for Klee to see.
It must have been a horrifying sight—
“Your eyes are very pretty, Miss [Name]!”
Your breath hitched at the unexpected compliment, turning away shyly. As you wore the blindfold again, Klee notices Albedo smiling in awe at you. She put up her hands to cover her mouth and muffle her mischievous giggles.
“I agree.” He murmured.
You nodded, “Many thanks.”
Albedo never told you, but for him, it was love at first sight the moment his eyes met yours. There have been solitary days spent in Dragonspine where he wondered tirelessly:
Would it have been a mutual feeling if you could have seen him back then too?
From then onwards, the mysterious alchemist had turned into a close friend. He acted as a personal pillar of support in unexpected ways. The little ball of sunshine that is Klee turned into a source of lighthearted joy for you as well. They tend to visit your home in the city together, offering gifts and knick-knacks. The habitual meetings resulted into some new friends who helped you settle down in Mondstadt, especially Eula. Her own aristocratic lineage helped you two bond about a lot of things, even when she vehemently rejects hers—which is frankly for understandable reasons. You both share the sentiment that genuine nobility upholds the belief of noblesse oblige above all.
Albedo, most of all, enabled you to regain the love you thought had been lost forever with your sight.
Although life still hit hard with how you struggle to create art, your appreciation for it was reborn and you are experiencing everything all over again as something new. Regardless of the burns and scars that made you insecure, the Kreideprinz made you feel nothing less than desirable and deserving of love. Though the blankness of your gaze saddens him, and sometimes even angers him due to the injustice you were dealt—he saw beauty in all that is you, and everything that blossoms from your hands.
Just for a moment, he wanted to show you what he sees the only way he knew: to create.
Vincent guided you into Albedo’s personal art studio in Mondstadt. The canine looked more excited than you. He nipped at the alchemist's white coat, tail wagging as he sat by your feet but paid attention to your lover. Charming eyes swept between you two as if awaiting praise and treats for a job well done.
For a moment, Albedo was reminded of Klee and it made him smile. He kneels down before the dog, patting his head. After a few minutes of petting, he relinquishes the promised treat.
Vincent then ran to his corner, satisfied. Usually, he is very protective and ends up hovering next to you; but with Albedo, he knows you are safe.
You giggled amusedly.
“Sometimes,” your lover sighed, “I think he only likes me to get treats and headpats. He also only comes to me by whining to play.”
You smirked teasingly, “Sounds familiar.”
Albedo paused before giving you a scolding look, yet the twitching smile betrayed him. He was then taken aback when you presented him a small gift bag and a bouquet of cecilia flowers.
“Happy Anniversary~!” You said.
He smiles, accepting your gifts to greet you back.
“Happy Anniversary, [Name].”
Per usual greeting, Albedo takes your hands in his to let them settle. Then, you let go to just feel as they glide across his skin. He closes his eyes to relish your caresses, nuzzling when you reach his face and touched his cheeks. From there, you felt his smile and it spurned yours.
However, as the alchemist opened his eyes, he had witnessed the spark of sadness in yours.
On your first anniversary together, Albedo crafted a special gift. A wooden easel held a blank canvas, or so it seems. If not for the colorful palette and wet brushes, nobody would spare it any glance or even thought. He guides you in front of him, encasing you in his arms and pressing his chest to your back. His lips whispered instructions almost seductively, soft and sensual as he lifted your hands to move them forward.
“Go ahead.” He implored your touch.
Fingertips make contact with what seems to be a canvas, but with bumps on it that definitely felt like braille. Your brows furrowed in confusion, unable to interpret it as anything. You can decipher some sort of pattern, but nothing in the braille alphabet comes to mind that makes sense.
“Don’t think in words, love.” Albedo advised, “Imagine it as you would paint a landscape.”
He is familiar with your art technique. After all, he has always been a fan since he first purchased your work at an auction. His keen observation noticed that the colors bloom from the center. Then, multiple layers come to refine the structure and control the shades. Once the painting is complete, the basic foundations are harder to notice but details never escape Albedo. To him, it felt like he was seeing two images in a single painting: one perceived by sight, and another perceived by heart—dual masterpieces for the price of one.
You follow his words and thus you begin to deduce a work of something.
The braille patterns made you think of Mondstadt’s flower meadows, petals of cecilia and seedheads of dandelions fluttering in the breeze. An orb that seems to be the sun is raised eastward with what appeared to be outlines of birds, aflight in the cloudy horizon. There are faint marks connoting mountains in the distance, and flowing swirls that felt like wave patterns along the coast. To further understand his message, you sought the center much like how you used to paint.
Albedo detects your newfound focus, aware that an image has been imprinted upon your mind.
“[Name],” he murmured tenderly, “I need you to keep your hands on the canvas. I will guide you in this next step. Do you trust me?”
You smiled meaningfully, “Always.”
A loving caress upon your skin is accompanied by a chaste kiss on your crown.
“I cannot give you the world—”
Then, the brailles moved.
“—but I can leave a piece of it in your hands.”
You quickly realize that the brailles were not made of ordinary material. Days and nights of listening to your lover’s random alchemy ramblings allowed you to learn a thing or two. This braille painting has been constructed with special elemental crystals. From the feel of it, they respond strongly to elemental energy—particularly yours and Albedo’s combined, both currently being channeled. Depending on the crystal, it can resonate with other elements.
Beneath your hands, the patterns moved in looping motion to signify that it was animated. Furthermore, the energy that resonated from every shard is almost alive. Anemo can be felt from the swaying of the dandelions, and dendro amplified the scent of the scattered cecilia across the grassland. Even the painted sun emits a comforting warmth due to hints of pyro, as if bathing the scenery with its light. The waves along the shoreline felt moist due to hydro, which resonated strongly with you—and for a short second, you actually miss Fontaine. The mountains are the familiar cold of cryo, which then registered for you that it was likely a reference of Dragonspine.
Just from this, your mind’s eyes can almost envision the outline of a city—one founded by Barbatos.
In Albedo’s eyes, the special formula for the paint which Sucrose helped him concoct had finally revealed itself. To outsiders, the canvas is nothing more but a lumpy surface. In truth, the blind will see its true form; and when given life via elemental energy, the rest will be unveiled. To you whom once knew the colors of the world, the simple animations of the image form a kaleidoscope that provides you melancholic nostalgia. By your fingertips, it certainly felt as if Albedo had given you a piece of the world that only you can see.
For this one moment, he and you can perceive the same world.
Tears gathered in your eyes yet a heartfelt smile radiantly shone upon your face. A sob of genuine happiness wracked your throat. As your knees begin to weaken, you leaned on the man that helped you see again—
—even if only a few seconds.
Albedo also smiled in relief, fully embracing you around the shoulders in support. He let you take in the moment while he basked under the blessing of your presence.
“If there is anything else you wish to see again,” he solemnly swore, “I will be your eyes and shall piously present its sights to you.”
At his oath, you abruptly let go of the painting and turned. Cupping his face in your hands, your lips eagerly meet his. Albedo returns your passionate amor with fervor, ever delighted to please you. He wishes to someday discover the truth of this world, as his master bade him to do. His one desire is that you would be there beside him when he does.
Even if destruction came by his hand, he already knows one truth by heart—
“The beauty of this world forever pales in comparison to you.”
DILUC RAGNVINDR is an uncrowned king raised as a noble gentleman of chivalry and gallantry. From the fiery red of his hair to his stern crimson glare, he upholds his aristocratic lineage with dignity. The cumbersome title of lord dictates the gravity of his obligations to Mondstadt. Whether as a nocturnal vigilante or as master of Dawn Winery, those who dare to threaten his home will face the wrath of his flames. Sinners who refuse penance shall have their blood paint the mighty blade of his claymore, as a furious firebird sends the wicked to retribution.
As a man coveted by many, he keeps his circle small and tightly knit. An outsider’s only chance to ever earn his favor is to either make themselves useful to Mondstadt, or by earning the approval of his more compassionate wife.
That woman is none other than you.
Diluc met you as a playmate in his childhood. His father, Master Crepus, was both a close friend and trusted business partner of your parents. Like the Ragnvindrs, your family specializes in the wine industry—specifically the medicinal values that are incorporated in liquor. Although your own father is from Mondstadt, he settled down in Liyue upon marrying your mother. Secretly, you and Diluc were arranged to be married. Everything worked out well since you both actually liked each other a lot. He was a very protective yet supportive friend, while you were a tactful and encouraging listener. When Kaeya had joined the family, the three of you became quite the inseparable trio.
Then, Crepus Ragnvindr died.
Everything happened so fast. Before you knew it, your fiancé chose to disappear and left only a single note for you as goodbye. It was not even a proper farewell, at least not the kind he made sure to give you every time. Even if there was little to no sincere romance in your engagement, you both respected each other as equals. However, his final note had completely staggered you.
“Don’t wait for me.” It said.
Such a heavy message in merely four words…
You understand what he means by it. He has made a decision wherein he would prefer to not involve you, and thus opting to let you go. The contract regarding the engagement was never too binding. Crepus had assured that either of you can break it off if you both reach such a consensus. However, the former head of the Ragnvindr Clan did not just choose any girl to be paired with his son. He specifically took interest in you because he always knew—if any woman can ever match his son and heir in terms of headstrong stubbornness, it can only be you.
With the patience of a saint, you graciously accepted Diluc’s decision. However, it did not mean you would back down so easily.
Honestly, you see it as poor manners to just leave things with a note. You have to just wait in the Dawn Winery so you can give him a proper scolding upon his inevitable return. Until then, you were more than willing to manage everything else on his behalf. The servants are ecstatic to find out you meant to stay despite their young master’s wishes. Your parents are also very considerate, only ever wishing for your happiness since then and now.
Under your supervision, Dawn Winery flourished and maintained dignity after the loss of its masters. You hold the cunning and integrity of any businessman worth their salt. Adelinde, Elzer, and the entire staff can attest that you are more strict than even the late Lady Ragnvindr—wife of Master Crepus.
Kaeya never confided to you whatever caused the fallout between him and his brother. However, he seemed so relieved and touched when you did not treat him differently. If anything, you seem to dote on him even more now—like a real older sister. He thus returns your kind and loving care equally, a bout of protectiveness that rivals your absent fiancé.
Years later, tragedy struck once again.
You were mistaken as the official Lady Ragnvindr by whichever enemies Diluc had made. They aimed to lure him out by means of threatening his supposed wife, taking you hostage. Despite being Visionless, you were far from a pushover. You did not go down without a fight and worked to plan your escape.
In the end, your captors thought you to be more trouble than your worth…
…and so, they aimed to kill you.
It is only due to Kaeya’s timely arrival this instance that you did not follow Crepus.
However, you did not get out of the incident perfectly unscathed. The brutality you suffered had caused a critical and permanent injury on your spine. It is with heavy hearts that the doctors informed you of the grim situation: you can never walk again.
Diluc promptly returned to Mondstadt when Kaeya relayed the news to him via letter. He had been so devastated to realize that you almost died because of him. He wanted to protect you by letting you go, but he underestimated your resolve. In his mind, he knew the only way to truly get you far away from him is to make you hate him. Upon finding courage to visit you, he doubled down on his determination when he left you years ago. You deserve better, and the life he could give you as Lady Ragnvindr will only be a disappointment. You deserve so much better than waking up to a cold, empty bed and waiting on late nights.
He opened the door to your room in his manor, ready to break your heart so you can leave him.
However, his hardened goal fell short.
You sat by the window, as beautiful as the day he last saw you. Even confined to a wheelchair, you remain smiling so warmly. Your enchanting gaze meets his crimson pair, and he melted at the sheer adoration you bestowed upon him. Your cheeks took a rosy glow, and your smile widened—lips moving to utter words of welcoming him back home, yet he cannot hear a thing. His only thoughts revolved on how badly he wanted to kiss you right now.
Diluc missed you so much, and hence he realized that he really is a fool.
How can he ever survive if he truly broke your heart, the most precious thing you entrusted to him?
“Marry me.” He said.
Much to his surprise, you only laughed and accepted—as if you always believed he would return to you.
It was truly laughable how easily you can weaken his resolve with a mere smile.
“It took you long enough, Master Diluc~!”
You winked at him as you laughed. Despite your lighthearted cheer, the redhead can see that the years apart took a toll on you. He crossed the room in graceful strides and he saw you more vividly. The bags under your eyes did little to dull their sparkle; the hollowness of your cheeks worried him but the rosy hue amplified their glamor; and your pallor was a little too pale for his liking, yet the freckles across your nose reassured him that you get enough sun on a daily basis.
Then, he bends down to hold you close and buries his face at the crook of your neck.
Your heart skipped lightly.
Then, you hugged him back—more tightly.
Diluc said nothing as he felt his shoulder get wet, and you did not make a sound as yours trembled.
“Welcome home.” You whispered.
He grits his teeth to fight against the tears.
“I’m home.” He murmurs.
The marriage started a little awkwardly. Three years had been a long time, and you both had changed in ways that put a strain on your dynamic. However, as you both learned to trust each other the way you did as kids, everything else flowed smoothly. You relied on him as he relied on you. Thanks to your endless patience, you managed to help your dear husband in anything that troubled his heart. At times, it is only by your gentle interventions that his overprotective tendencies can be quelled. It had become norm for the people of Mondstadt to see you at a cozy corner of Angel’s Share—beside the bar, whenever your husband took a shift. Any shenanigans are put to a stop by a warning glare that seemed more scathing than any other nights. None of the patrons—drunk or otherwise—dare to start any ruckus as long as you were present in the tavern.
There is nothing that Diluc kept from you anymore, as he claimed no more secrets. Although, he was curious when you steered clear if the topic is Kaeya.
“It’s not just your secret to share.” You reasoned.
The redhead felt his love and respect for you deepen at the claim.
Now, you sat in your husband’s office. While he was busy doing paperwork, you did embroidery on a silk pillow that got torn. However, there was a stifling air in the room that bothered him.
“What is it?” Diluc asked.
You raise a brow, “What do you mean?”
He stared back knowingly, “You have been redoing the same stitch for the past half hour. That only happens when you’re distracted; and you’re only ever distracted when something is troubling you.”
The redhead leans back on his chair, dropping his quill to cross his arms.
“So,” he continued, “what is it?”
You blushed at the fact you were caught so easily, but also flattered by how he is so attentive to you.
Diluc is then worried by your prolonged hesitance, gradually standing up from his chair. He walks up to you leisurely, kneeling by your side. His gloved hands take yours, mindful of your needlework as he placed it on the table. His vibrant eyes implore you to share your burdens, waiting and encouraging.
“I lied to you.”
He frowns at your blunt confession but said nothing, tilting his head to let you continue.
“On our wedding,” you reminisced, “you asked me what I wanted most so you could provide it. I replied that there was nothing more I could ever want since you asked me to marry you for real.”
Your right hand carefully broke free from his, rising to tuck his fringe away. Your palm rests on his cheek and your husband savored it with fondness. He then recalls being ready to arrange a grandiose wedding that day, remembering how much you rambled about being like a princess in your shared childhood. As a young boy, it used to grate on his nerves; but as your fiancé, Diluc found it necessary to pay attention.
Back then, he did not question it when you asked for a simpler celebration. After all, a lot has changed between him and you—for better and for worse.
“However,” you murmured, “there was one thing I had truly wished to experience with you.”
Your eyes stray away from his, drifting towards the unfinished embroidery pillow. His own eyes follow, and he immediately understands. The picture’s basic design depicts a pair of lovers dancing under the moonlit night. A gazebo frames their silhouettes while lampgrass grew around its base structure.
A wedding dance.
Diluc looks back up to you, smiling in exasperated affection. He then leans forward, taking you into his arms as he stood up. A mild squeak escapes your lips as your own arms clung to his neck, caught off guard by his sudden movement. Your husband steps out of the room while carrying you, yet offers no explanation whatsoever. Although you felt confused, it did not stop you from relaxing in his embrace and just leaning against him.
The redhead took you to the main foyer, and headed straight towards a small library corner. He dismisses the maid stationed to clean it, leaving you both in privacy. First, you were placed on the recliner near the fireplace. Then, he walked towards the old yet pristine gramophone. It belonged to his mother, he vaguely remembers. His father told him that she always loved to collect vinyls, a bittersweet sheen of unconditional love shining in his eyes.
The young lord wonders if the two of you would also remain as in love when you get older together.
“Diluc, what is this all about—”
You trailed off as waltz music began to play.
“When my wife wishes to dance,” he says, “what kind of husband am I to refuse?”
A suave smirk on his handsome face leaves you so utterly breathless. Your heart races, bursting with an unspeakable joy to call this man yours. Captivated by the sight of him, you can only watch as he strides back to you—charming as a prince straight out of a fairy tale book. His gloved hand is presented with a chivalrous bow, his rare theatric side being shown only for you—always only for you.
“May I have this dance, Milady?” He asks.
You gape speechlessly for a minute. A part of you was reluctant. How can you possibly dance in this circumstance? Nonetheless, you trust Diluc more than anything so you accepted.
“You may.”
Diluc gives a dazzling smile at your faith in him, and gently pulls you up. He expertly places your feet on his shoes, carrying your weight as you swayed. One of your hands is on his shoulder while one of his arms is wrapped firmly around your waist, holding you close. Your respective free hands are entwined, inseparable and perfectly at ease.
The marital couple moved fluidly and gracefully. You entrusted your body completely, to be moved in this dance he led confidently. Your patience and trust are returned by his warmth and protection, cradling you in a chrysalis that hopes to let you flourish. He even dares to help you twirl, making the skirt of your dress flutter like the petals of a wild rose in bloom.
The dreamlike sequence ends as he dips you into an intimate position. Heartbeats skip in sync, never of fear but of exhilaration.
Your hands leave his, believing he would never let you fall even if you let go. His grip transferred to your back and your nape, eager to be your support. You caress his face and pull him down for a searingly passionate kiss. He indulges you wholly, taking all that you have willingly given him. Your fingers shook as they entangle with his red mane. With the ease of a man who wields a claymore, he lifts you up. Your arms held tight around his neck, tilting into a new angle to not break the kiss. The fervor is returned a hundred fold, as if Diluc wishes nothing more than to fuse his soul with yours.
You are the one who empowers his flames, igniting his heart as your chosen Ifrit.
He made a vow at the altar, and not even death can do you part anymore—
“The privilege to call you mine is an honor I cannot surrender to fate.”
KAEYA ALBERICH is someone painfully aware of the power in words, and uses it to his advantage. He is as mysterious as he is efficient at being the Cavalry Captain of Ordo Favonius. The charisma he exudes can be as menacing as the frigid coldness of his Cryo Vision. The swiftness of his blade can be more merciful than the secrets he ruthlessly exploits. As much as he is admired by his peers, everyone can unanimously agree that his enigmatic ways leave them a little wary to trust him entirely. Nevertheless, the cunning of a flightless bird is just as deadly as the venom of a pit viper. A reluctance to comply is merely a sign to delve deeper.
In the carefree city of Mondstadt, only one has squared up to his level and defeated him—
—in every sense of the word.
You are the dainty little assistant of Lisa Minci, the resident librarian of Mondstadt. She slyly evades all attempts of divulging how and from where she met you. It is rumored she just found you sewing some of her worn books one day, and then decided that she has to have you as her assistant. The only other thing known about your relationship with her is that she can be extremely protective to the point of territorial. Similarly, nobody can fully understand the eccentricities demonstrated by the Witch of Purple Rose as much as you do. Since your employment, a peaceful synergy can be observed in the workings of the library and even the Knights of Favonius HQ.
The most notable thing about you is how you never limit your goodwill to work. Anyone you can reach is always on the receiving end of compassion. As such examples, Lisa has proudly introduced you to many of her prestigious friends. Since then, it had become a norm for them to see you.
Jean always ends up a little more relaxed with the cups of coffee you brew for her. You serve her tea as a silent insistence when it was time to rest. Albedo and Sucrose now have a habit of asking your referral in finding the best locations for any ingredients they would need. At random times, you appear around the corner to help Noelle in the most menial tasks and labors. Whenever Amber returns from her daily outriding, she would find you welcoming her by the gates with some food and water. Lastly, even Eula has begun picking you up to join her for lunch on weekends. You are the only civilian that never treats her differently, and actually seems to like her very much as a friend.
In a bout of poetic irony, the only one that seems to rarely receive your kindness was Kaeya.
Of course, you were far from unkind or cruel. You still greet him amicably every time you cross paths in the hallways or city streets. However, his shrewd gaze can detect your hesitance to interact with him for prolonged periods of time. Politely asking you about it did him no good as well. You only stared at him skeptically before shrugging, as if he should know the answer. A part of him questioned why it even bothered him so much, but perhaps it was a matter of ego. He knows himself well enough to be aware that it could be the reason he kept persisting on gaining your favor.
When Kaeya decided to tell Lisa about his situation, she had the gall to laugh at him.
“It’s because she sees right through you.”
Kaeya raises a brow, “I beg your pardon?”
Lisa smiles sharply, “My darling [Name] is an astute judge of character. It’s one of the reasons I adore her so much. Like you, she also knows her way with words. The more you talk while she listens, the more she compares the character she sees in your eyes and the persona that speaks with your lips. If they don’t match up, she will consider you to be too dangerous.”
For a moment, the Cavalry Captain felt his eyes darken defensively. A second later, they return to being detachedly bemused.
The Witch of Purple Rose catches the slip but does not comment about it. In fact, she willingly closes her eyes to let the man have his moment. However, she did continue to speak her piece.
“You’re not a bad guy,” she states, “and she knows that well. However, [Name] is the type who does not like to converse with people that refuse to respect the weight of the words they speak.”
A beaming smile is given by the librarian as she pats her colleague on his shoulder.
“Try speaking a little more honestly! It might earn you some brownie points.” She said.
Kaeya wanted to claim he is not going to bother and that he will just leave it at that. Alas, it seems he had found his match and could not resist your allure. In the end, he nodded before taking his leave.
To Lisa’s credit, her advice worked.
Obviously, Kaeya did not lay everything out in the open; but he became more sincere in his efforts to befriend you. To his pleasant surprise, you may be taciturn and reserved but it did not make you shy at all. If anything, you were quite bold for a pretty little damsel. He playfully flirted with you a few times and you were barely fazed. You even flirted back with teasing glances and fleeting touches that—he was impressed to admit—flustered him in shock. Your dollface can be deceiving as well. He had seen you pettily tattle to Lisa about patrons that give you a hard time. In turn, the mage trusts you to be the one to remind her of anyone who is late on their book returns. Thus, he watched you just peacefully sip tea while your employer terrorized the poor souls that earned her wrath with an innocent smile.
You rewarded the Cavalry Captain’s honest efforts by opening up to him a little.
It is here that Kaeya learned you were mute.
The cause was a very unfortunate birth defect when you were born prematurely. Your vocal chords did not grow correctly and almost suffocated you. The doctors were forced to remove it entirely via surgery so you can survive. Growing up, you became quite the bookworm because of this disability. You found solace in the immersion of reading the words you can never speak. It gradually turned you into a very talented scholar worthy of Lisa’s attention. Your nurturing ways with books and your preservation of comfort amidst the silence certainly gained merits.
Of course, your reserved nature did not mean you are to be underestimated.
The Witch of Purple Rose chose you as her personal assistant and sole substitute for a reason. It can be argued that you are potentially more frightening. You are the calm before the storm; and when you strike, no one ever sees it coming. Whenever hooligans think they can just steal books from the restricted section, every single one will be found hogtied and gagged on the Knights of Favonius’ doorsteps. A damsel you may appear but the only distress that can be felt is by the drunkards, who think they can harrass you without direct consequences. In fact, you made it your personal vendetta to discipline every member of Barbara’s fanclub and their stalker tendencies. A failure to comply forces them into public humiliation by wearing nun attires, and then prostrating themselves in front of Barbatos to beg for forgiveness.
Venti had an interesting view when he woke up from his nap on the statue’s hands.
The job of Cavalry Captain became that much more entertaining, and easier too.
Public ordinance is now easy to handle for all the patrolling knights, whom often need to tread lightly just to appease the common folks. Although the Acting Grandmaster would never say it outloud due to her soft nature, she was thankful for this subtle measures you have been making—especially in regards to her sister’s privacy and safety. Even the stoic Master Diluc seems to respect you since he actually makes effort to greet you more than he does any other stranger in the streets. Your drinks in Angel’s Share are discounted too, which is always a plus after a long day of work. Lisa took advantage of this perk just to tease.
As he got to know you, Kaeya finally arrived to a profoundly frightening conclusion.
He was falling in love with you.
No, he may have already fallen the moment you had turned into his newest fixation. The icy captain can recall Lisa’s words—how you judge people based on the character in their eyes, if it matches the persona that speaks. You actually looked at him and saw him with just a single glance; and when his words blurred the truth, his facade was already unraveling before your piercing gaze. You rejected him because he was denying the lost boy you see, and you embraced him when the charismatic captain found felicity in your companionship. You accepted both sides even if you knew nothing about either of them.
However, for all his clever ways in manipulating the feelings of others, Kaeya is powerless at the face of his own emotions.
Hence, the reasonable thing in his perspective is to simply run away from you.
It hurt you but it was something you also understood quite well. As mentioned, you were aware of Kaeya’s true character from the get-go. It was fine if this is really what he wants. You both lived your lives just fine when keeping your respective secrets. That should not change just because romantic feelings are now involved.
Lisa and your friends firmly believed otherwise.
Your doting older sister figure tells you one day that the elusive captain left a message. He says to meet him in Windrise, where Jean had put him on patrol for suspicious activity of the Abyss Order. In a twist of fate nobody expected, they even managed to get Diluc involved to make the information appear to be legitimate. The redhead claims he was getting sick of Kaeya's face brooding over you in Angel’s Share.
All else, as they say, was history when you were both given a chance to confront the truth together.
Now, Kaeya watches over your sleeping form on his bed—tuckered out from today’s work.
You are curled up to his chest, nuzzling his clavicle like a kitten. A delightful shiver ran through his spine every time your warm breaths hit his skin. Your left arm is draped over his waist while your right hand rested over his chest. His own arm cushions your head, bent by the elbow to poise himself up while he ran his fingers through your hair. The other one holds you close by the waist, legs intertwined so no space remains. The moonlight peeks through the curtains, basking you in afterglow that left him mesmerized every night. Leaning down, his lips tenderly kissed your brow as his embrace tightened possessively.
He grins as he felt your fingers move drowsily on his back, crumpling the blouse.
“Why are you watching me sleep?”
You drew special patterns to speak, blinking your eyes open to stare blankly at your lover.
He chuckles, bending down to give you an eskimo kiss while tracing words on your back as well.
“You look too beautiful to be true.”
You hummed in the form of a soft exhale, observing your beloved closely. Your hand leaves his back and reached up to his face, tucking his fringe behind his ear to see both of his eyes. It no longer concerns him to let you see his normally hidden eye, which flickered for a fraction of a second. He disclosed everything long ago. He has nothing else to hide, not from you at least—never again from you.
In fact, the language you were both using to silently communicate is from Khaenri'ah.
Kaeya invented the sign language of it and taught it to you. In public, people think it is just a cute secret between couples; but you knew better. There is a power in words, and Kaeya had entrusted you this in particular—a piece of his true self that only you can keep. Not even Diluc knew this much about him, as their bond of brotherhood shattered before he could make an attempt. Henceforth, you use this sign to talk with him privately and send messages only for your dear captain to decipher.
As you caressed his cheek, Kaeya sighed in perfect bliss. He leans towards your touch, turning his head to press a loving kiss on your palm. His own hand reached up to keep it in place. Delicately, his index finger traces another message on your knuckles.
“You’re not just a sweet dream, are you?”
Your eyes softened in understanding, smiling in hopes to alleviate his insecurities. Your hand directs his to your heart, much like how your other one stays above his own. Two hearts beat as one, delivering a mutual confession beknownst only to you and him.
Your lips moved and his unique eyes read them as if they held the meaning of life.
“I’m real, and I��m yours.”
Unable to help himself, Kaeya changes positions to loom over you. He pins your hands by the wrist on either sides of your head. You let him, locking eyes to wait until he regains his anchor to reality. As he straddles you, he leans down and his scarred eye glows with an unknown power. For a moment, the star in his misty blue orb sharpened into a slit. Then, his grip eventually loosens. Your arms soon take the chance to slither around his neck. You pull him down to your level, sensually slow to leave him in intense anticipation. Once he is a mere breath away, you lean up and forward.
Kaeya never fails to find sanctuary in your embrace, and salvation in your kiss. The taste of ambrosia is as addictive as the first time. He wanted more—needed more, even if it meant unequivocal demise.
One of his hands seeks one of yours, pressing against the mattress to interweave. A final message is traced as you both succumb to the passion that has waged wars since the dawn of creation.
“I love you.”
If the day of reckoning ever comes for him, the last hope of Khaenri'ah knows he does not stand alone.
Kaeya will always remember to seek out your light, and savor the hour of respite in your shadow. He holds faith in no god nor archon; but before you, he shall bend the knee in devoted worship.
This lost prince of sinners may be predestined for damnation, but he prays in your name—
“You are my northern star, the light that guides me back home.”
VENTI is a bard whose secrets are guarded by the lullabies of yesteryore and evermorrow. He holds the face of jubilant youth, yet his eyes tell a tale as old as time. While his voice mellifluously sings of tunes so spirited and free, his heart weighs heavy with the burden of an untold sacrilege. A couple thousand years can be a long time, yet the agony remains as fresh as the memories of a lucid dream. As he dons a smile that hopes to brighten the days and luminate the nights of Mondstadt, his soul belies the image of a nameless friend long gone. At times when the winds blew too coldly, he relies on the burning heat that drips down his throat—a taste so fine yet so bitter, like the freedom he idolizes.
Memories remind people what matters most, a life’s purpose to never forsake. However, more often than not, they come with the cruel regrets of what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. Henceforth, in tiresome days, the expense of living gets a little too much; and in sleepless nights, the weight of existing gets a little heavier.
Alas, when stars align just right, the wind will lead a pair of soulmates to find one another.
In Venti’s case, you found him.
It is actually very difficult to get him drunk, even if he acts otherwise. To be precise, he recovers quicker by getting sober minutes after he felt tipsy—and then, he would be downing another bottle. It is annoying for someone who just wants to forget his problems, but that is partially why he became accustomed to binge drinking. His rate of alcohol consumption would kill an average human, via alcohol poisoning, by the time he actually blacks out.
Amidst this cold and lonely night, the windborn bard was spared an ounce of warmth by a kind muse.
Venti woke up in a peculiar cottage that smelled of pollen and varnished wood. He heard the chirping of bluebirds, rousing him further away from his drowsy haze. A ray of sunshine peeks through the hanging cheap fabric used as curtains. He sits up, braids all messy with a very entangled bedhead.
As he stumbled out of the bedroom, the familiar sounds of Der Frühling beckoned him to the front porch. His veteran ears can attest that the notes are undoubtedly produced by a musician's hands, but a mere novice in the ways of the lyre. There was a harmonious flow in melody, yet the tone and pitch held little to no finesse in-between transitions. A sense of sheepish uncertainty distorts the song, but there was a certain charm in its dissonance.
He turns a corner, and there he saw you—
—a young dame sat upon a rickety swing, taming the bluebirds that sang for her strings.
The amused bard leaned against the doorway to watch the free show. His gleaming teal eyes stared blatantly, mesmerized by his supposed hostess. You wore an outfit that resembled his, but more modest and somewhat mismatched in color palette—an odd choice for a fellow bard. The only flashy thing about you is the Anemo Vision pinned onto your hair as it tied up your headband braid. It functioned as a hair ornament surrounded with cecilia and windwheel aster petals. A teal silk ribbon was mixed into your braid as its curled tail fluttered under your Vision ornament.
You seem to be inexperienced with the lyre, as Venti had confirmed upon seeing your performance; but you are still quite precise in your play. In theory, you hold enough knowledge to figure out which note works for a particular measure. Before he realized it, his own voice begins humming alongside the chirps of the gathered songbirds.
Alas, joining your small choir of avian creatures had startled them into flying away.
You also stiffened with a surprised jolt, practically snapping your head to look back at him. He does note that it was the birds’ exit that had shocked you, and not his soundly abrupt entrance.
“Ehe~!” Venti giggled nervously, “Sorry about that.”
You fumbled for a moment yet held the lyre firmly, careful to keep it steady. Standing up, you then walk over to him even though you shook in anxiety. Ever so tenderly, you returned his dearest Der Frühling as if handing over a precious baby.
Venti finds this heartwarming and endearing, having not met a fellow bard as considerate as you. He thus receives his lyre with gratitude, tracing its frame and plucking the strings. He marvels at the fact you even polished the instrument and retuned the strings.
“Many thanks, fellow bard~!” He chirped, “My name is Venti. May I know yours?”
You stared blankly at him for a moment, as if taking a few minutes to decipher his words. He spoke a little too quickly on purpose, patiently observing if you would prove his suspicions. As soon as you finally understood, you replied with some stutters in-between your syllables. It seemed more like a sound of uncertainty rather than a speech impediment.
“I-I am…[Name].”
A deaf virtuoso—the windborn bard believes you will make an interesting friend.
Ever since that day, Venti developed a habit of either visiting your abode or seeking you to hang out in the city. His consistent presence helped you be more comfortable in conversations. There was little to no stutters in-between your sentences now. As a bard whom prided himself in knowing all music of the past and future, the art of sign language is a helpful skill he utilized to pleasantly astound you.
The bard had never seen any mortal beam so bright when you smiled at him that day.
While you have gotten comfortable with him, Venti has also grown comfortable with you. There have been many incidents wherein his smiling mask just naturally came down around you. By your side, he felt more freedom than he has ever experienced in the past centuries. He knew it was dangerous to let this continue. The god in disguise has always been meticulously aware of his own feelings; and he was more than aware that he is falling for a mortal he will someday outlive.
However, he found you hard to resist.
Neither Venti nor Barbatos can hope to deny your profoundly unconditional love. What kind of god could reject such a heartfelt offering?
Despite your penchant for playing any available instrument, you preferred not to take center stage. In fact, your hidden knack for taming avian creatures is how you earn a daily living. Every songbird in the City of Freedom knows your tunes and can chirp them on command. This is due to your Anemo Vision, which has a unique ability that enables you to interact with the birds by means of frequency. Depending on how you control the vibrations in the breeze, they will follow like a choir does with a maestro.
You once dedicated a performance to Barbatos and the Four Winds. On that day, Venti heard his wisp brethren amongst the thousand winds croon at you in delight. He witnessed the silhouette of Vennessa’s falcon form hovering above you appraisingly, and a resounding roar can also be heard from Dvalin in his proclaimed lair. There were even the echoing howls of Andrius and his pack in Wolvendom.
This leads him to discover that your true talent lies in writing music. He had seen and read your musical compositions, grinning at every single one. With your permission, he even played a few in your home as payment for your gracious hospitality.
“You can negotiate with bards for this, you know.” He proposed, “I’m no businessman; but even I know letting other musicians play this will earn you a hefty sum of mora.”
You smiled sadly, “N-Nobody…w-would acknowledge music…composed by a deaf girl.” You confessed.
Venti turned solemn as he gazed at you. Although intimidating in its rarity, you are not perturbed by this abrupt change of mood. Your darling bard wears a mask on a daily basis that blurs truth and deceit.
You have become acquainted with them all.
He hummed playfully, “Now that just won’t do.”
You tilt your head confusedly, blinking in surprise when he suddenly takes hold of your hands.
“Ehe~!” He giggled, “Let me play…all of your music, [Name]. In fact, I’ll write…a lyrical ballad…for each of them. We’ll be the best duo…in Mondstadt!”
He had to slow down his speech a bit since he could not use his hands to help you keep up.
Thus, a new routine began for you two.
Venti kept his word. For the next few months, he only sang of the tunes you composed. A few of his regular listeners heard the slightest change in his playstyle. A part of him wished to smile bitterly as other bards and occasional playwrights praised his talent. He pettily made sure to charge thrice from them when he was requested for encores. These fools had rejected you just because of your disability yet they literally sing praises when he played your creations. Any artist worth their salt should have been able to see your potential at a glance.
Nevertheless, he ensured to always come home to you with bags full of mora whenever he plays your music in particular. You deserve nothing less than that, and he refuses to settle for anything else.
Regardless of this success, Venti recognized the melancholy in your eyes. You used to smile radiantly every time you watched him play. Your ears cannot hear the notes but you can feel the vibrations in the air. Your beguiling eyes relished the perfection of just watching Venti play to his heart’s content.
However, he was not blind to your inner turmoil and thus sought to relieve it.
“What’s wrong, Windblume?” He asked.
You hesitate, looking down at your feet. Gently, he props a finger under your chin to raise your head. A tender smile of encouragement implored you to speak your thoughts freely.
“I’m…frustrated.” You replied.
He says nothing but his smile does falter to a glaze of concern, waiting patiently to let you finish.
“I feel…so happy and grateful…when you play my songs.” You confided, “It’s finally being heard…and not just through the songbirds. People are now listening…to how it is supposed to be heard, and how I envisioned it to be played.”
Tears gather in your lovely eyes, overflowing with emotions too much for your heart. Your darling bard does not waver. He raises a hand to cup your cheek in his palm while his fingertips swept your sorrows.
“I want to…” you sobbed, “I want to hear you too!”
Venti held you protectively close, wishing more than anything else to shield you from this wild tempest of emotions. Alas, he was more than aware of the truth that the loveliest of rainbows can only come after the harshest storm. These are the feelings that must have festered for so long within you. People who can hear cruelly turn deaf to the ones whose worlds have been rendered silent. It was as if they do not deserve a voice if they knew not how it sounds. The thought infuriates the bard, reminding him of your beautiful songs discarded as nothing more than the passing chirps of songbirds.
He used his talents to let your ballads be heard.
Perhaps, he can use a different set of talents to let you hear his own?
You gripped onto Venti as if he was your lifeline, a part of you crumbling in sheer relief. He has always encouraged you to never be ashamed of what and how you feel. Whether it be deemed good or bad, all of it belonged to you. They make you human, the reason why he adores you above all. His gentle hand carded through your hair, skillful as when he plucks and strums the strings of Der Frühling. Pulling away slightly, his lips rested upon your temple and then your forehead. They stray towards your cheeks, a taste of salt from your tears.
Lastly, they hover above your own lips—centimeters apart, just a breath before they touch.
Teal eyes glow a shimmering green, both of you becoming enraptured by each other.
Venti needed you to say no more.
He takes you in his arms and spreads his wings. He delivers you to Windrise and its special tree, trusting him so wholly that you did not question him. Instead, you melted in his arms and enjoyed the warm breeze that wrapped around you like a blanket.
Once he sits you down beneath the tree, Venti sits in front of you to place one of your hands right above his heart. It beats steadily yet faintly, present yet not quite—like the wind he controls. He summons Der Frühling and smiles lovingly at you. The crystalflies illuminate his youthful features, providing a mystical glow that enthralls his dearest muse.
“Eyes on me, meine liebe.” He mouths.
Closing his eyes, he begins his private performance.
You frown, wondering what he means to prove with this. Still, you obliged his wishes and kept your eyes solely on him. Your hand remained where he placed it, right over the constant beating of his heart.
Then, you finally noticed the gathering streams of energy around yourself and your lover.
Your Anemo Vision began to glow alongside Venti’s iconic braids. The winds hummed together with him, united under his influence. It is an enchanting image, dazzling you into stunned admiration.
Then, you finally hear him—vocalizing the precious melody you dedicated to him alone. He sang of his past, his present, and his future which are now all intertwined by the whispers of you.
/Gales of song, please stay by my side/
He opens his eyes and releases his lyre. It plays as it floats, and you are mesmerized by how you can hear it all. By power of anemo, he merges your heart with his while enabling your psalm to be immortalized amongst the winds. He reaches up a hand to keep yours on his chest while its pair entangles with the other. His forehead leans on yours, gaze softening as you wept in bliss.
White feathers rained down on the landscape of green and blue. Floating lights illuminated the dark, be they stars or crystalflies. The Statue of the Seven sung in accompaniment to the intimate confessions of Barbatos—to you and for you.
/Winds of love, breathe into my life/
You can hear him so clearly—his regrets, his woes, his dreams, and his love. You hear it all through the song you composed at the thought of him, which he plays at the memory of you.
A fated parting shall occur someday, but he will love no other the way he loves you.
Therefore, with a passionate kiss, he makes you a promise—
“Come what may, you are the melody my heart will always sing.”
DAINSLEIF perseveres as a maverick shaped by his resolutions and driven by conviction. After enduring five centuries, he has earned a fair few titles as his new names. However, these remnants can never piece together his whole existence. As the Twilight Sword, there is no longer a Khaenri'ah to consider as his homeland to protect. As the Bough Keeper, there is no true grace to his purpose while burdened by a curse that shall someday rob him of his own mind and soul. In the eyes of Celestia, he is no more than a sinner doomed to a fate which can be argued as worse than death. As for the rest of the world, he is no more than a listless wanderer whom holds an obsession with stopping a disgrace known as the Abyss Order.
To honor those he had failed in his homeland, he can only move forward in the best way he knew—even if it is against those he had formerly served. Souls of the condemned hold no genuine hope of ascending to Celestia, for they amount to nothing more than heretics that do not worship any god. Therefore, for those who dare to remember, erosion will befall upon them as a final kiss of damnation. Before that day comes for him, this foolish score must be settled so he can meet his demise without regrets.
There is no genuine reward at the end of this tedious and lonesome quest. He is aware.
Nonetheless, the accursed immortal human refuses to falter under the taunt of judgment. If damnation is what shall meet him at the end of this quest, then he shall do it on his own terms. For if he must also end without his resolve, then there will truly be nothing left of him and Khaenri'ah.
There had been instances aplenty wherein the divine is likened to the flowers blossoming across Teyvat; and as a lonesome wanderer, he has grown accustomed to these tragic folklores.
The God of Dust named Guizhong left behind a quiet legacy amongst the glaze lilies. Songs which keep them abloom become tributes to her name.
The Goddess of Flowers known as Nabu Malikata had left her remnants within the padisarahs. Even if not as they were anymore, they serve as a memoir.
Godless they may have been, the glorious nation of Khaenri'ah also held pride over a particular flower—the Inteyvat. Alas, nobody but the former Twilight Sword retains the awareness to recall whom they represent the most.
“My memory has all but faded completely,” a voice murmurs piously, “but I will always remember how much she too loved these flowers.”
Dainsleif spoke not of Lumine here, although she does remind him of the one he reminisces. He dares say travelling with her had been the closest to home, a feeling of warm comfort. However, it never was the same exact happiness he sought in another—a mere ghost in his past. The lost historical relics in Sumeru speak of her as the last Eclipse Princess, whom was hailed as the Heretic Saintess. However, to him, she was the woman he dearly cherishes to this day…
…and the one he laments most for failing to protect in the bout of cataclysmic calamity.
Indeed, the Bough Keeper realizes; this accursed immortality is a fitting punishment for what Celestia deems a sinner. For he can forsake everything, but anything he has left of her will vividly linger. The doomsday of his own reckoning shall be when that too is ripped away from him.
Until then, he will dream of her. Until then, he will foolishly hope for the day they meet again.
Then, like a prayer to a nonexistent god, answers came in the ethereal form of you.
You met Dainsleif on a stormy night. In fact, he just found your cabin in the woods to seek a temporary shelter—injured and knocked unconscious. He was already half-delirious from a high fever, and it did not take a genius to know the man had a rough week. It is not out of kindness that you nursed him back to health, but due to a selfish motive to figure him out.
“Who are you?” You mumbled.
It seems he was not entirely out of it since he still managed to respond clearly.
“Dain…sleif…”
As soon as he muttered back, he eventually fell limp in your arms. For those brief seconds, there was a swelling ache upon your chest—nostalgia. A chilling tingle ran through your spine, like the touch of an invasive ghost on your skin—melancholy. Then, it spreads as smoldering heat to your veins as if to ignite your bloodstream—passion.
“Dainsleif, huh?”
The name felt like velvet on your tongue. His clothes and features were all too familiar to you—a fellow kinsman from Khaenri'ah. However, your eidetic memory never once brought you to a conclusion about this man’s identity. Regardless, your body reacts as if begging for your mind to catch up in recognition.
Even as you tended to him, nothing clicked.
“Your Highness…”
His voice weakly called, raspy and strained as if to choke it out. Your star-shaped pupils dilate as they meet his own hazy glare. His hand was reaching out to you, looking yet not truly seeing.
Alas, you made no move to truly stop him and remained awkwardly staring back.
“You’re dreaming, Sir Dainsleif.”
As if hearing his name from you brought comfort, he settles down again. His eyes start to close but now his hand found yours resting by his bedside. You recoiled yet his grip was oddly firm for a deeply ill patient. Perhaps, you can allow this until he gets some real rest.
When he recovered, Dainsleif vanished as abruptly as he barged into your life.
The next time you met again, it was your turn to be the one in need.
Dainsleif finds you in a clearing of soot and frost, holding a young man desperately. It was as if a clash of fire and ice had occurred under the rain. You look up to him, stars in your eyes shimmering with panic and sorrow. Without a word, he aids you by carrying the unconscious male and leading you back to the cabin. You made no reaction other than grasping onto his cloak tightly, like a lost child.
Despite not wishing to overstay his welcome, the Bough Keeper chose to stay for the night. You were unresponsive to him, as if your mind had shut down completely. A vague memory of a person so similar to you made Dainsleif familiar to the situation. Thus, the task of healing your patient fell to him until you could regain your composure.
“Please be well, Kaeya.” You murmured.
Dainsleif did not pry about your business, giving you the same respect you had done for his privacy. It did, however, astonish him when you took hold of his wrist and dragged him outside with you the next day.
The man named Kaeya stirred awake.
Befuddled, the former Twilight Sword kept silent as he watched from afar with you. Kaeya ate the warm meal you prepared on the table, and mixed emotions flickered in his eyes as he did. His head turned to observe everything in the cabin, searching almost as desperately as you appeared last night. Numerous dreamcatchers and embroideries decorate the walls in a contradictingly systematic manner. The more he analyzed, the more he remembered his childhood—as if your crafts gave him pieces of long forgotten memories. Then, he slowly stood up and made his way to a periwinkle dreamcatcher designed with a pavo ocellus constellation.
A single silver-blue eye gazed out the window, nearly catching your own gaze—
—but you ducked down behind the huge boulders and pulled Dainsleif with you to hide.
Kaeya got his things back and left a small note of gratitude for your care. Wordlessly, he left the cabin with the dreamcatcher now hanging on his belt—right beside his Cryo Vision. He looked back over his shoulder only once to give a bittersweet smile.
“Farewell, sis.” He whispered.
A humming zephyr delivered his message, and then he went back to Mondstadt.
Dainsleif sat down beside you for an entire hour, a mix of pity and empathy. When clarity returned to your eyes, he rose to take his leave. Once again, he was halted on his tracks by your hand grabbing onto his own gloved one.
“Hey,” you said, “do you mind if I go with you?”
Against his better judgment, the cursed immortal agreed after a minute of contemplation.
This newfound journey together has a very tedious beginning, mostly attributed to you. Everything was strange and nothing felt safe, which was expected because you both never stayed in one place. You, whom sought solace in consistency, were always forced to adapt to something new. Sleeping became a chore because you felt every small pebble and thin blade of grass pressing against you. It is by the mere thoughtfulness of your companion that you got a semblance of rest. Dainsleif always covered you in his cape and was willing to hold you soothingly, as if he knows just how to calm you down. There has been moments wherein you had tantrums, and some meltdowns that delayed some plans. Other days, you shut down completely and only wake back up to reality after a day or two.
Dainsleif was shockingly very patient with you, never berating and ready to soothe whenever you are in distress. He never once pushed you to go back. Only once, he offered to take you somewhere to settle after a very bad episode.
“No, I can’t!” You exclaimed, “I have to keep moving. I have to…keep going. Make sure…nobody finds me.”
It was unspoken that you were specifically running away from the City of Freedom, all for avoiding your your younger brother. There is a destiny that kept you both apart even when you mutually wish to be reunited. As children of Khaenri'ah, the former knight can take a guess what that sort of fate presents.
Since then, your travel companion did not question your decision anymore.
Without prompting, Dainsleif seemed used to your symptoms. It was almost eerie how he knew exactly what to say and do in every situation that involved your condition. He makes effort to prepare the same meals that you wish to have every day, and only light fruit snacks at night because you get very restless otherwise. At times he wanted to keep going, he stops himself to make camp for you first on the same evening hour before scouting ahead. He only allows himself to be gone for exactly 45 minutes, which was your limit to being alone whenever you both decide to camp out rather than checking into an inn or hotel. Whenever a wave of unease hits, he keeps a bag of materials that either lets you weave dreamcatchers or tinker an antique you scavenged in the ruins you passed. Every time your mind begins to close off, he sits down with you and holds your hands to meditate. When you need space, he keeps his distance; and when you need companionship, he keeps you close.
“How?” You ask.
Dainsleif raises a brow as he looks down at you. It was in the middle of Lantern Rite as you both watch the festivities from a nearby hill. After indulging in a few stalls, you calmed by playing with his fingers as your head rested on his lap. He knows the meaning to your one-worded inquiry, and he wonders how to answer you truthfully.
“I knew someone similar to you.” He said.
You sat up before blankly staring into his eyes, stars meeting stars. Tilting your head, a flash of curiosity brought light to your emotionless gaze.
“The princess…?” You asked.
The Bough Keeper blinked in surprise.
“You dreamed of her a lot when we first met.”
Your statement made him look away bashfully, a bit embarrassed to be reminded.
“Was she important to you?” You asked.
At this, he looks at you in the eyes. His star-shaped pupils practically gleam with an emotion you could not read—or perhaps, could not comprehend.
“She is my dearest one.” He declared.
Normal people probably would have felt jealous at that confession. He even used a present tense to show that his feelings have not wavered.
You and Dainsleif never gave a label to this peculiar relationship, but you hold a mutual understanding that it had grown to more than just friends. It was a development nurtured by meaningful exchanges and secretive affections. The sentiments are far from platonic or familial, that much is sure.
That night, when you released a lantern, you made a fleeting wish—
—not to the gods, but to the princess.
“Please look after Dainsleif.”
Meanwhile, the Twilight Sword fondly gazes upon your form. The image of your past self overlaps with the present. He recalls the ever sleepless nights of guarding you in the tower. Starlight showered upon your figure leaning by the windowframe. Delicate hands reach out to set free artificial crystalflies that glow as wisps of moonlight. A breath of laughter is echoed in the lonely room, and then he is blessed by a smile more divine than Celestia.
The memory flickers as the silver starlights are replaced by golden lanterns, and your humble self stood in place of the estranged saintess—
—but that smile remains.
Morning welcomed Dainsleif with the strange sight of you looming over him. With practiced ease, he resumes calm as he let you do as you please like it was nothing unusual. He knows of your quirks just as you are aware of his boundaries. There is mutual trust of consent that tells which actions would be acceptable anytime. He did gulp a little nervously as his drowsy eyes analyzed you. His hands twitched but he willed them to stay in place despite his inner yearning.
Disheveled, you were straddling him while still in your nightgown. Your hair was messily draped over your shoulders, creating a curtain around the blond man beneath you. A glazed veil engulfs your eyes like a dreamy countenance of a faraway reverie.
“Dain…”
“What is it, [Name]?”
“I had a dream last night.”
“A dream, you say?”
You nod, leaning down almost conspirationally yet the expression on your face remains unreadable. A gasp hitched in his throat as your lips strayed to his ear, whispering shakily—
“I remember, Dain.”
Realization struck him.
Dainsleif switches positions with you yet he receives no protest. His ungloved hands cup your face in order to meet your eyes with his own beseeching pair. You see his visage, unmasked and vulnerable, that longingly wish for your approval.
You nodded.
Dainsleif claims your lips in ardent greed, and you responded in eager devotion.
Intertwined, redamancy is bliss for the reunited knight and his only princess—
“Your heart is the only other half that can ever complete mine.”
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gotham-ruaidh · 4 months
Text
Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be
Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) ||| Also posted at AO3
Chapter 14B: Where Do We Go Now?
Soundtrack: “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” Guns N’ Roses, 1987 [click here to listen]
Now and then when I see her face She takes me away to that special place And if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry
- Guns N’ Roses, “Sweet Child O’ Mine” (1987)
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Tucson || July 1988
It didn’t matter what Colum or the label or anyone else said – all recording studios looked the same on the inside.
Sure, there were always small differences. The really comfortable couches at Sound City in Los Angeles. Electric Lady in Manhattan still had the really cool paint scheme that Jimi Hendrix himself had designed. Muscle Shoals in Alabama oozed coolness.
But this studio, whose name he couldn’t and didn’t care to remember, nestled down a back street in Tuscon was…tired.
Almost as tired as Jamie.
The “quick three week tour” had stretched to eight weeks, with no end in sight. Theater shows had been upgraded to arenas. Playing to thousands and thousands of ecstatic fans. Pouring their hearts out night after night after night, and squeezing in radio promos and sound checks and business meetings during the day.
Fucking exhilarating.
Everybody wanted a piece of Print – their music, their story. Jamie still hadn’t granted too many interviews this tour, but the press ate up every word he said about sobriety and music and forgiveness. Insatiable for details about the woman he had met in rehab, and written all the new songs about, and refused to name publicly.
Print was making more money than they knew what to do with. The label had sprung for a private plane, and nobody in the band missed the rickety and smelly tour bus (except Claire, because it was still all so new to her, which Jamie added to the list of thousands of reasons why he loved her). Their hotel rooms were bigger. Catering in the dressing rooms was much nicer.
Fucking exhausting.
So many people wanted a piece of Jamie every day. Ian and Angus, to run through the new material that just kept pouring out of them. Colum, to talk ticket sales and adding second and third nights in each city. The suits from the label, who kept finding them in Dallas and Kansas City and Detroit, slapping Jamie’s back and pushing terrible ideas for duets with pop stars or contributing to a movie soundtrack or pleading to do the acoustic set in a special for MTV.
And on top of that, some dirtbag reporter from the National Enquirer had figured out who Claire was, somehow got a hold of her personnel file from the hospital, and tracked down her shitty ex-husband for an exclusive interview. Splashed her life all over the tabloids, complete with very grainy photographs of the she and Jamie together, holding hands, on a rare day off in Nashville when he took her to a few honky-tonks. The one saving grace was that thankfully, nobody at The Ridge had said a word about anything about her time there, or the time they shared together.
Claire took it all in stride. She always understood. Holding him in the bathtub of their suite in Denver as he shook from another panic attack. Smiling over a three AM hamburger at a diner in Topeka. Whimpering as he came off stage in Atlanta, sweaty and keyed up from singing about her, hoisting her in his arms for a long kiss against the lighting equipment at side stage, heart stuttering to see his eye makeup smudged against her cheeks.
The man he was on the last tour – unhappy, unfulfilled, so deep in an addition he didn’t care to acknowledge – would not recognize the man he’d become on this tour.
“In ’86, we played seventy eight dates. We had a number one record. I bought my house, and my motorcycle, and my car.” Quietly he sipped coffee in their suite in Seattle, watching the city wake up, running his thumb over Claire’s shoulder as she settled against him in front of the window.
“You had everything you had always dreamed of.”
He snorted. “I was a mess. All I could think about during every show was how to find a girl or a bottle or a baggie as quickly as possible. And the crew would always do that for me.”
The crew respected his – and Claire’s – request for no drugs or alcohol backstage this tour. What the techs and roadies and production crew did on their own time, in their own hotel rooms, with whoever they wanted to – Jamie didn’t care. But for everyone to help with, to respect, his sobriety was a gift. And he never stopped saying thank you.
“If only those reporters could see you now – Jamie Fraser swaggering off stage for an Evian.”
He smiled. “And to kiss this beautiful doctor who for some reason keeps following him around. Because he loves her, more than any man has ever loved any woman.”
He wanted to provide for her. To shelter and protect her. To never leave her side ever again.
She didn’t need him to do any of that, of course. They’d talked about it many times. But she wanted him to do that. And the fact that she chose him, kept choosing him…that was why they kept going. Kept each other sober. Kept holding each other up.
They’d agreed that this time on tour was for her to understand this part of him – and to help both of them decide how and where they would live once the tour was done.
Which is why the radio silence from Boston, four weeks after mailing the letter from Philadelphia asking, politely, just what the hell was going on…was so fucking crushing.
The stress of that – and the grind of touring – did make it just a bit more difficult every day.
Thankfully Colum had scheduled a week-long break at the end of the month. Angus was already planning a trip to Aruba with the two groupies, who truth be told had grown on the rest of the band. Ian was planning to spend the week with his wife, Jamie’s sister Jenny, and their kids.
And Jamie and Claire – well, they’d be getting married.
Only a few people knew, with good reason. Ian and Jenny, of course. Alec and Faith, in New York. Colum. Dougal MacKenzie and his wife Gillian, who had helped both Jamie and Claire so much at The Ridge. Uncle Lamb, who would officiate. And Claire’s friends Joe and Gail Abernathy, who had quite literally saved her life by getting her to The Ridge in the first place.
The service would be simple. Exactly what they wanted – what they needed.
And after that…well. They would truly be husband and wife.
But there was a lot to do – a lot to take care of – between now and then. Not the least of which was, wrapping up this recording session.
The time laying down acoustic tracks in Philadelphia last month was very well spent. They weren't so rusty. But the guys were eager to hear the songs in electric form. And since they were in Tucson, and Colum knew Bobby Higgins – who not only owned this studio, but who had also produced that really killer Ratt album in ’84…
“OK, Jamie.”
Jamie took a deep breath, and looked up through the glass at Bobby, hunched over the console in the control room.
“Ready for take two?”
Jamie looked left, to Angus – and right, to Ian.
“Yup.”
“OK – this is In My Veins, take two.”
Jamie grit his teeth.
Caught Claire’s eye in the control room.
She smiled.
He relaxed.
Angus counted in on his drumsticks, and then started the heavy beat like they’d discussed.
Four bars – and Jamie’s guitar and Ian’s bass joined in.
--
“That was really, really great, Jamie.”
Claire handed him a new bottle of water, cap already twisted off. He drank it in four deep gulps.
“I know you’re not shitting me. So thank you.”
Quickly she looked over her shoulder – Angus’ cheeks were being loudly kissed by the groupies, and Ian played around with his bass, and Colum and Bobby were deep in conversation in the control room.
“Where are you?”
She had pulled him away before, when the panic attacks were coming, and he knew she’d do it again right now if needed.
He wiped his mouth with the back of a sweaty hand. “About an eight out of ten.”
“Do you need a break?”
He met her eyes. “I need a meeting. Been thinking about my old friend Jack Daniels all day.”
“Did you see something?”
He sighed. “I’ve only played electric a handful of times since I got back from The Ridge.” He looked down at the gorgeous Stratocaster strapped across his chest, fist flexing. “I got this guitar because the black tone and white trim matched the label on the bottle. Stupid, I know. But it’s all I could think about today.”
“Not stupid. We’ll deal with it. You should call Alec. And I can find you a meeting.”
He leaned in, and kissed her forehead. “I love you. I’ll call him. And I need to sell this guitar.”
She nodded. “We’ll find a charity.”
He kissed her again. “I love you.”
She kissed him quickly, and returned to the control room.
Grateful that Jamie had turned away to talk to the guys, when Colum tapped her on the shoulder, and slid over an envelope postmarked Boston.
“Mail call. Do I want to know?”
She shook her head, folded the letter, and slid it into the back pocket of her jeans. “Is there a Yellow Pages I can borrow?”
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m3r1m4r5u333 · 24 days
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One very queer post to remind my fellow buddie truthers that patience is virtue...
Never forget that the show clearly called us clowns and crows...
And neither of those is an insult.
If you haven't, I recommend you read up on the history of clowns. Do you know where they evolved from?
Fools... What are fools, in story-telling?
They have always been the breakers of taboos, the ones who dare speak up and illuminate the truth.
That's repeatedly been the role of the "fool" in literature and theatre.
And remember the scene with these modern versions of fools, clowns, in 4x06? Bobby tells Eddie and Buck to be professionals!
...Much like when he has to cut off Buck from flirting with the tapework guy... In season one. The tapeworm guy? It's basically a scene of Buck being blatantly bisexual, totally flirting with a man... And Bobby going: Be a professional Buck, finish this conversation later!
And then that clown scene later on... There's a clown trapped under some (obviously quite phallic) helium tanks, and Bobby yelling about needing to "release the pressure"?
It's a parallel. Go rewatch Eddie's and Buck's first emergency together. They need to release the pressure to save that patient.
And the name of that first episode Eddie appears in? Under pressure. That's also in the season 2 promo, the first season with Eddie. And the songs in those promos... Under pressure by the Queen and David Bowie. And a version of Nowhere to run by Martha Reeves and The Vandellas. It's a love song, about a persistent, devastating love. Fitting for a slow-burn.
Also...
Eddie: "You're a badass under pressure, brother.
Buck: Me?
Eddie: Hell yeah. You can have my back any day.
Buck: "Yeah. Or you know... You could... You could have mine.
....
Then that emergency with the grenade when they first meet...
Everyone originally assumes it's not live. Oh but turns out, it very much is a live grenade, isn't it? We see it exploding. What's a grenade, going off?
Well, it's basically deathly amounts of pressure. Grenades injure and kill from a distance, the blast, the pressure is so powerful.
So the clowns watch that scene, watch Bobby urging Buck and Eddie to release the pressure... They look at Buck and Eddie working together...
And the clowns make their opinion known.
A clown starts choking, and coughs up rainbow colored string. That's the unsaid truth which this fool says out loud to the audience.
"This story is queer. I'm telling you, there are rainbows. I'm choking on them here!"
The combination of clowns, pressure, grenades... Again... Makes me think of the Batman movie Dark Knight, especially the clever bank robbery heist which
Joker - A famous fool type character, also related to fools and clowns... plans.
Btw, some of you may have noticed that I keep rambling about the Joker, and Dark Knight. Why? Because THAT MOVIE IS A CAPRICORN OF QUEERNESS!!!
And there's that clown theme which obviously comes up in 9-1-1, too. The clowns are the queer audience, it's quite clear. That clown scene was written as commentary, to us, freaking out about the queerness of buddie.
In The Dark Knight... Remember that whole conflict of the two freaks, a Batman and a Joker?
It's a battle against conformity. Diverting from the norm. Joker spends the entire movie trying to make Batman see and own his freakiness.
Honestly I think that we queers should worship that movie, it's a tale of us, the outcasts, the freaks, us against the world.
Because we are the clowns, the fools, the freaks that people fear. Who are always told to shut up, and hide. The ones who have always been the outlaws running from the police, still are. Who nobody believes, when we see our kind.
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That bank heist in that movie, which the ultimate clown, fool, Joker, organizes?
They enter the bank dressed up as clowns. The Joker is among them, a twofold fool, a jester wearing a clown mask, his true identity unknown to the other clowns.
The bank robbery heist btw includes lots of stuff which make me go "is this intertextuality?, was 9-1-1 inspired by this?", because they remind me of memorable buddie scenes. A failed phone-call ("I couldn't even call you to bail me out of jail!"),
the bank vault with electricity ("What more proof do you need, Eddie! We are trapped in a death box, thousands of volts of electricity...")
the clowns, the queers, hiding from detection, from the gunfire,
then clowns, destroying each other, one by one.
A clown getting hurt because he's an idiot who cannot really count (Buck, Eddie, the embarrassing struggle to get to "bi"?),
This one clown who thinks it's his time to spring out of the box and stop waiting. This shotgun has no ammo...
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and the Joker nods, which convinces the dumb math challenged clown that the bank manager's shotgun has no more bullets...
Here's another deathly nod from our favorite fool...
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This backfires quickly, the math challenged clown who thinks the gun wasn't "live"... Dies.
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A fool just fooled a fool. A third fool cries out in dismay.
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In the end... it's the patient fool here who ends up outsmarting the manager, and winning the battle.
Clowns are clever. We see under the surface, we voice the truth, but also, sometimes we lie to save ourself. That's what being an outlaw, an outcast is.
The Joker bides his time, is smart about it, and when the right moment arrives... he does not hesitate. He robs that bank, proves himself to be the smart one. The ultimate fool. The cleverest clown.
So remember the history of us clowns. We are silly, scary, strange, queer, the annoying ones who won't shut up.
And we are the fools. And fools are the truth seers. Tellers. We aren't dumb, we are clever.
That's how the story goes. Ultimately the fools always realise and tell the truth. We clowns, like the Joker... We saw the potential for "aggressive expansion" in buddie. We were there from the start, we looked at that lurking grenade, and thought... I'm seeing something here. And they will keep laughing at us clowns... But they'll learn when it goes off. I do think it's a live one, darlings.
So, how does the heist and the movie end?
Joker survives the danger, ducks the gunfire... And leaves the manager alive.
He also leaves an impression that will forever change that survivor. The Joker sticks a grenade in his mouth. It doesn't kill him, but that grenade is live, it releases a strange, queer gas.
The Joker gently tells the manager that whatever doesn't kill you... Makes you stranger.
Then... The way the Joker spends the entire movie urging Batman to hit him, to kill him... He challenges Batman to make him realise that they are really the same. That they are both freaks, outsiders... Birds of a feather. Batman needs to stop pretending that he isn't a freak.
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It's like Buck and Eddie. Take a swing at me.
Wanna go for the title?
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And in the end, they both survive this (really quite queer-coded) stand-off. They prove each other wrong.
Joker finds that he's wrong, that Batman cannot bear to kill him. And Batman admits defeat.
He becomes an outlaw, too. He takes the blame for the chaos, falls out of favor. The bat signal is smashed. Batman knows he'll be hunted... but he can take it.
"...Because sometimes... the truth isn't good enough, sometimes people deserve more. Sometimes people deserve to have their faith rewarded..."
And that's why Buck and Eddie, "Buddie" has really never been a tale of two buddies.
The "truth" is a lie. The fools have always seen it.
And so the Joker, the fool, the clown, actually... wins this battle. He is captured but creates another freak by turning Harvey Dent into the Two-Face.
He makes Batman realise who he really is, an outcast. Batman goes into hiding. But Batman creates another freak, Robin.
It's a lesson. Some of us freaks argue for chaos, some will argue for order. But to others we are still the strange ones. Outsiders, outlaws. Queers. Listen to the fool and realize it, own it. See that we are the same.
And they will hunt us, but the circus grows stronger. Whatever doesn't kill you, makes you stranger.
Oh, and the crows I mentioned in the beginning? Well, they called the crows buddies, and told the audience that the crows always remember their tormentors, didn't they.
Do you think they're waiting for these boys to come out, the show asks?
Of course we were, are. And we've got one now. Waiting for another.
After all, sometimes the fool needs to wait and have patience to see the vision materialize. Doesn't mean the fool was wrong. In the end, the crows will feast.
Crows are smart. And the clowns see the hidden truth.
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