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#he missed the point of the tale but still wound up following it

lynnlovesthestars · 7 months

Text

One and only.

Pairing: Astarion x fem!reader

Genre & warnings: smut and fluff, post act 3, soft Astarion, fingering, slight overstimulation and orgasm denial, unprotected sex, a lil of anxiety? and thinking but lots of love too, blood, biting.. I don't think there's more?

Words: 4.4k (damn i didn't think it was that long oof.

Healing is a slow process, but with you it's a little easier.

Astarion paced back and forth in front of the tent, weighing the words that were floating in his mind, the feeling that pooled in his stomach and shoved off the fear hidden in the back of his mind.

You were different because you cared about him. You reminded him every night before you'd close your eyes and fell asleep in his arms, and you respected him like none ever did. You reassured him whenever he'd ask you if you were still okay to wait for him until he was ready to try again with sex, and he was oh so grateful for it.

It's been around three years since you were free of the tadpole, you'd grown so much together: patching up each other's wounds while learning how to love. You taught him to be intimate without bedding you. You taught him how caresses could be so much more than sex.

He looked around the camp, you called your old companions for another adventure, helping you find a cure for vampirism, and they all eagerly accepted.

Aylin and Isobel were the only ones missing, literally.

You found a nice spot in the underdark, glowing mushrooms of pretty colors decorated all around you, and the circular cave was just perfect enough for the bunch of you.

You were fumbling around the fire, trying to roast a boar leg you got at a small merchant you found on the road.

Gale was trying to interfere with that boar leg cooking process, but you didn't want to hear him, especially after you had to live off his particularly unsavory stew for months, this time you were taking the metaphorical chef hat and feeding everyone with your newfound skills. Three years away from adventure had to be filled one way or another.

The camp was always lively, that's one of the perks of being so many.

Wyll was playing with Boo, while Minsc and Jaheira were playfully fighting over something dumb. Karlach and Halsin were fast asleep next to the fire, snoring loudly between Gale's words.

Lae'zel and Shadowheart were discussing as always and, though everyone was too distracted to hear him, Astarion was still mumbling to himself while pacing.

The dinner was great, you could see it in the eyes of everyone as they bit into the tender meat and shared stories. Minsc was deep into another tale of Boo, Jaheira and him as your eyes wandered to Astarion, which still hasn't had his dinner.

You couldn't see him, until you noticed that the oil lamp in your tent was on, and his shadow was fixing something around the tent. For what you knew he was moving the pillows scattered around, in a way that you'd be more comfortable while he fed.

They all knew at this point that you'd let him feed off you on daily basis, it started back while you were on your way to Baldur's Gate back then, and you took the habit so much that at a certain point you didn't even feel dizzy after he'd been done.

You excused yourself as you made your way to the tent, it was one of those nights where you needed an extra long hug, and a few kisses on the forehead.

When you opened the flap of the tent, he was still fighting with a pillow, trying to fluff it up just how he liked it, but failing. He was glad that he learned how to hide his emotions, shoving the tension down and away.

You kneeled next to him, placing a hand on his before taking the pillow from his grasp.

He followed your movements closely with his eyes, as you put the pillow on the floor.

He didn't know what he expected to see, but to watch you punch the pillow relentlessly, was definitely not on the list. Though after you were done, the pillow was somehow perfect. Was that how his pillow was always extra fluffy?

You gave him a soft smile before you tossed it next to the others, which you noticed were arranged differently, making something closer to a nest, than your usual layout.

You both didn't speak, you were so close that you'd know just by looking at your bodies, or the way your face crunched, and yours clearly said "cuddle".

In a matter of seconds, he pulled you in his arms before scooting closer to the pillows to rest there.

He loved the way you'd make yourself comfortable on his lap, how you wiggled for a moment before finding that nook where your head rested perfectly on his chest, and the way you would hum when you were happy with the position you chose.

He could live off just of that pretty sound that would come out of your lips.

You were so absorbed by the closeness that you didn't notice the barely perceptible hesitation in his touch, as he slowly turned your face to him, making sure you could hold eye contact for a moment.

The eagerness and the pure undevoted love were fighting with the fear, the fear of reliving those nights he tried so hard to forget, but at the end of the day, he needed you. He needed you more than he feared his nightmares, he needed to feel you around him, he needed to let you feel his love, his devotion, all of him.

If there was one person that he wanted to love so deeply, it was you.

So many times he thought of trying to have sex again just to see if he still was disgusted, but only with time he was able to realize that he wasn't disgusted by sex, he was disgusted of being stripped of his chance to back away. And the more he got to know you, the more he grew closer to you, the more he longed for you, in every way. It was no longer the need for release or just the fucking without attachments, he wanted to make love with you. He wanted to hear you moan his name like a chant, he wanted to feel your hands reach were no one was ever allowed to: tracing his back, on the dip of his lower back, around his hips, at the center of his chest, where his heart, your heart, resided.

There was no one else he desired like this, the idea of other people, or having other lovers but you, made him retch. He didn't want love unless it came from you, he didn't want sex unless it was you making him feel lightheaded. Of course it took him a lot of time to understand this, and a lot of work around his feelings, and his body, and you never shied away from any of his attempts to push his boundaries.

You helped him reshape the ideas of the smallest things, down to skinship.

Even after hours of brooding on how to ask you, he found himself speechless at the sight of your soft eyes filled with love, and the peaceful smile you gifted him. He was mesmerized.

It took him a second to just recollect, as he took his time ingraining in his mind that look he loved so much.

"My love" He whispered as he cupped your cheek, making you lean into his touch. "I've been thinking a lot" His thumb traced your cheekbone ever so slightly, drawing a delicate humm from you. He had planned a lot to say but as you leaned close, the speech was already out the window. So he just lowered you on the bed, and crashed his lips to yours.

It took you a second to process the unexpected movement, but a second later you were lost within his kiss.

Initially it was rough, the way he gripped on you, like an instinct that he could barely control, full of yearning and need, but slowly, the more you relaxed in his arms, savoring the taste of his kiss, the more he would slow down, like a love poem traced with his whole body.

His hands would graze over your hips, your shoulders, your neck, every bit of exposed skin was being caressed by his slender fingers, holding and molding your body like it was putty.

He rested his forehead against yours as he caught his breath, and allowed you as well. His eyes were closed as he was lost in your sweet scent.

It took him another long moment before being able to control his breath, regain his senses as his head was already spinning away.

"My love, allow me.." He breathed ooutsweetly as he latched his hand around yours, your fingers intertwining in his like an instinct. "Allow me to feel you." He placed a soft kiss on your cheek. "Allow me to make you mine" The words came out almost as a plea, like a starved man that was in front of a banquet and forced to resist the need. His lips traveled to your neck, resting where he'd usually drink from you.

"I'm already yours" You whimpered as you could feel his teeth graze, sending a shiver down your spine. You could feel the pit of your stomach bubbling with tenderness, as his eyes were rounder than usual, and his gaze was soft. Though there was a yearning feeling in the bottom, drowned momentarily by the adoration.

So many nights you had to leave the tent to take care of your needs, as you didn't want to burden Astarion with it. You wanted him to be fully there as he helped you release all that pent up tension, not just a shell of him. You craved his love, not his body.

You had to resist the very urge to push your hips against him, even though he was asking you already. You wanted to make sure he was truly okay before making any movement.

He groaned as he tilted your neck, pressing his lips right under your chin, and descending between your clavicle. He wanted to worship every millimeter of you, no skin would have to go unkissed.

"I want to make love to you, my one" He left a bite on your shoulder, no teeth were deep enough to draw blood, but definitely enough to steal a delicious mewl from you.

His words made your heart roar.

You raised your head enough to catch a glimpse of his eyes, now sultry, half closed as his lips still rested on your skin, dropping sweet kisses right where he was.

"Mh, you sure?" You asked as your body basked in the attention he was providing.

"Like I've never been before. I dreamt for so long to have you wrapped around me" He moved again, until your chests were against each other, and your noses were meeting. "I want no one else but you. I want to know what having the love of your life so close, so vulnerable feels like" He placed a quick kiss on your nose. "I just want to get lost in you, to hold you like I've never held anyone" his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tight to him, like he wanted to merge your bodies. "I want to be one with you" He whispered as he closed his eyes again, inhaling your flowery scent mixed with his.

Your heart was pounding so loudly against your rib cage that you would have sworn he could feel it without leaning in.

You wanted to sound louder, but as your lips opened to say that yes, the sound came in almost a strangle

by all your emotions.

Astarion's eyes glimmered with a light you've never seen before resting there.

He was gentle as he undressed you, every inch that was being revealed to his eyes, was met with his yearning lips, drawing all sorts of pleading sounds from you. Your body was already shaking like a lire string as it was touched, and your lips chanting a melody for him.

His descent was agonizingly slow, but what struck you was how his movements were.

You knew he was well versed in sex, but the way he was caressing, tracing, kissing, biting, was the one of a man that was trying to listen to your reactions, to savor the tiniest sensations, to learn his lover, such a difference from the confident man that fucked you senslessly in a forest three years prior.

It was no longer about repayment for the feed or protection, it was pure undevoted love in each touch.

Just with those miniscule attentions, your heart was swelling for him, and little did you know that he was hitting him as well, all your emotions flowing around you in the small space of the tent.

Your clothes were soon on the other side of the floor and you took your time admiring him in all his beauty: the way his chest was rising, the way his skin was covered in small old marks, so carefully healed that you wouldn't be able to discern them unless you would be trying to remember his every pore.

"Gods i wish you could see yourself through my eyes right now" He sighed. "I've seen you naked so many times, but right now? No goddess could compare next to you" He kissed your navel delicately as his fingers were grazing your thighs.

You could feel your cheeks igniting at the praise. You wished for a moment you still had that tadpole eating your brain, just for a second to show him the true vision. His body was so perfect in front of you, the truly breathtaking view. You could have sworn he would have made such a perfect painting.

Before you could open your mouth though, he was praising you again.

"No words would be enough for me to explain how every curve of your body makes me ache for you, my one" He leaned forward, placing wet kisses from your neck, down to your hips, over and over again until his name was a broken mewl from you lips.

He stopped between your thighs, taking his time to spread you wide open for him. He kissed that spot that caught his mind right away, that perfect dip of your hips, where stretch marks were concentrated.

He hummed as he couldn't help but graze them with his teeth, stealing one moan that made him almost melt.

Then agonizingly slowly he kissed the inside of your thigh, trailing kisses until his nose brushed against your clit. You wanted to beg for him to eat you, but his head turned towards the other tight, repeating the tantalizing trail of kisses until he reached for your dripping cunt.

"You are so ready for me" He kissed right above your clit, teasing you more and more. "But I have to dine first" a finger gently traced the outline of your lips, taking his time before dipping it between your folds, and earning a moan. It was so long since someone touched you, you could feel your whole body clench at the smallest touch.

He kissed your thigh again, sighing at the softness of your skin. You were so wet he just inserted another finger in you and started pumping in your pussy, drawing those perfect moans from you again, music to his pointy ears.

Then as he added another finger, his teeth sank in your plush thigh. All of your senses jolted up, amplifying everything as he started drinking from you.

His slender fingers reached right where he made you cry in pleasure, as you slowly gave in to the lightheadedness.

As he kept feeding, he still worked you like he knew every movement that would make you whimper, drawing always so near to your orgasm before pulling away.

Moments later he finally let go of your thigh, his teeth slipped away from the pricks they had made home in, and licked away the rivlet of blood still spilling from the new wound, causing your body to arch even more under his tongue. You were so close, so desperate to come you'd chant his name like a prayer, just so he'd taste you.

Instead he pulled out his fingers, taking one at a time in his mouth and sucking your slick off of them.

"You are delicious, my love" He moaned as he popped each finger out of his lips.

You were on edge, so tempted to take control and ride his face until you'd come on his lips, but you had to restrain yourself, you wanted him to guide you through it, you wanted him to have full control of his and your body.

His tongue reached for the rivlet of blood on his lips before pulling you in his lap, your thighs wrapped around his hips like they were made just for that. You could feel his erection press against your folds as he pulled you closer.

His lips and yours clashed together in something that was akin to a slow dance, your arms wrapped around his neck, while his held you by your hips.

You could drink the sighs he was letting out, the smile he grew in that intimate moment, the reason why he wanted you in this position.

For months he tried to imagine how he wanted to make love to you, how he'd feel the safest, and his mind always came back at the idea of your chests against each other, your lips so close he could kiss you, but also where he could hear your moans the closest. How he wanted you to rest against him as he whispered how perfect you were for him, he wanted you. All of you. All of your warmth, all of your skin, all of your sights, he wanted to see how he was affetting you, and how you affected him. He wanted to lift your chin, to kiss your neck, he wanted the both of you to find respite in the tight hold.

Seeing you so close to him, so vulnerable just how much he would be, it was how he wanted it to go, cause this for him was like a first time. He wanted to be overwhelmed by you, as you consumed him.

He wanted to feel his home in you. In you and only you.

He took a moment, resting against you, clinging to you like you were going to disappear from his grasp.

"If you want to stop, you just have to say it, my star" You whispered as you rested a hand in his hair, drawing circles on his scalp as he breathed in your scent, that was slowly mixing with the smell of sex.

"No my love, I'm just bathing in you before doing anything else" He admitted, placing a kiss on your neck, where he was resting his head.

"I don't think I could ever exchange this for anything. No power, or castle could compare to the home I made in your heart". His words were warm, caring, just like scorching fire against ice.

"I love you" You murmured as you caressed his cheek, and brought him back to you.

"I love you too, my one" He kissed you slowly as he guided you up. Bringing you to rest your forehead against each other as you slowly sank on his length. A gasp simultaneously filled the tent, so loud it could wake up everyone, but you didn't care. The air was pulled out of your chests, as you clinged on each other.

You both waited a moment before doing any movement, both overwhelmed by the closeness and the pleasure.

You wrapped around him so perfectly, he could barely keep any control over his body, his mind or his lips.

"Mh so perfect for me" He whispered sultry, as he guided you through the slow movement, allowing him to bottom out before having your hips meet his again, stealing another breathy moan.

It was slow, tender, so much that you could feel your eyes become glassy.

Nothing could ever compare to the fire that was spreading around your body as he picked up pace, stealing everything from you. Your air, your whimpers, your heart, over and over again.

He wanted to savor every inch of you, he would allow himself to fill you to the hilt, as he threw his head back.

"M-mine" He lulled as he couldn't resist the urge to go faster, his body loosing control of his movements.

It became all so sloppy, ragged as he grasped at you ass, his nails sinking into your skin as he slapped his hips against yours.

"This is what you do to me" He rasped as he lolled his head back. His hair wild as some curls fell on his face. His mouth agape as he choked praises.

Sweet gasps echoed between the syllables of your name, as he submitted to the pleasure.

He wanted to scream, to let everyone know you were his and no one could ever coax those sounds from him like you did, so effortlessly.

Your fingers twirled naturally around his curls, pulling his head to yours as you deepened the kiss along with your movements, savoring the taste of his lips and sweat as you made him see the stars.

You drank each other's moans with your lips as you completely gave away to the pleasure, as you gave all of you to each other.

You could barely register who was directing, cause your bodies just felt like one. Molten lava simply mixing as it burned hot like the hells.

You were so close, your whole body shaking as you could barely form a proper sentence. "L-love y-you" You muttered though your tongue felt indescribably heavy and light simultaneously.

You were drunk on him, your eyes rolling back as he hit that spot that could make you come undone. He worshiped every inch he could reach with his lips, making sure your body was left with a memory of the night, of his trust, of his love.

"You fill me so well" you praised with the last bit of your sanity, stealing the most precious sound from his lips.

Euphoria washed over Astarion as he was high on the feeling of your pussy clenching uncontrollably around him.

He pumped in you insatiably as you could feel it build up, the familiar knot as your muscles tensed up, feeling the heat rise and your legs shake.

You were not sure what it was, maybe it was the moaned praises, or his touch, or the way his hair bounced as he sank in your, but you felt your body being stripped of all the flesh, pleasure taking it's place as your orgasm washed over you. Your head rested on his shoulder as he was still lost in you, so close to his own release.

You knew that the only sound in the camp was your skin slapping, and the lustful sounds you'd make for each other.

The frenzy turned into a slow-burning passion, his hips rhythmically pounding in you as his lips met again with yours in a matching kiss, your moans mixing in the middle as you could feel it again, your orgasm building so quickly you barely had time to process how sensitive you were.

You let go of his lips to admire how his mouth parted, a series of whimpered moans fell from his lips as you could feel every inch of you being dragged away in the second orgasm at the sole sight.

His hips stuttered once, twice, before the arrogant orgasm sent him to the moon, spilling all his cum in your warmth.

He stayed in you for a few more moments as he processed how elated he felt.

There was no one else in the universe that would make him feel so safe, so loved. He was gentle as he laid with you in his arms, drawing shapeless lines along your velvety skin.

He couldn't hold back the tears that were forming at the edge of his eyes, as he held this night so close to his heart. For him, this was his first time, and it was with you, his other half.

You noticed right away when the first few tears started tracing his skin. You were so afraid of his reaction that this was like a shock to you, in a way.

You prayed the morninglord he wasn't already regretting the intimacy, maybe he didn't feel what you felt: that sense of belonging, the overwhelming love.

You cupped his cheek as you caught a tear with your thumb. "Are you ok, my star?" You whispered as you took away another and another with tenderness that made Astarion even more emotional.

He slowly met your gaze, his eyes so soft and his lips curled in a tender smile as the droplets still descended down his cheeks.

"I'm perfect, my love" He rested his hand on yours, clasping at your fingers and bringing them away from his cheek.

"Why are you crying?" You offered a reassuring look, the one he learned meant that you were a safe space where he could speak his mind unfiltered.

"I dreamt of this nights for months, how I would ask you, and how I'd hope this would carry out" He exhaled for a moment as he toyed with your fingers.

"And none of those dreams could ever get close to this" His smile was getting wider, accentuating those lines you loved so much.

"I don't care for sex, unless it's with you. Unless it's loving you with every inch of me, unless it means undressing ourselves and being exposed in all our vulnerability. Unless it means I get to feel you become part of me" You were absorbed by his words and his eyes, that you didn't notice he let go of your hand to hold you closer.

"You are the other part of me", He let out shakily. "I might even say you are the best part as well." He kissed your forehead tenderly. "You are my one and only" He whispered at last as he dragged the blanket he had left on the side, on your bodies. You murmured something between a love confession and a praise as he lulled you to sleep in his embrace.

You were fast asleep as he finally remembered what he was forgetting.

He summoned a mage hand, trying to be as silent as possible. The ghostly arm reached under one pillow and pulled out the velvety box, before shoving it in Astarion's backpack and dissolving its form.

"Tomorrow" He noted in his mind. "Tomorrow I'll ask you"

2K notes · View notes

exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year

Text

The Silver Dragon (11/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 3034

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: As Arianwyn adapts to her new surroundings, and Aemond heals from his wound, the pair take comfort in the letters they exchange.

Warnings: None.

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thelittleswanao3,@trap-house-homiecide

Author's Note: This one came to me quickly! I hope y'all enjoy. And bonus points to anyone who can correctly identify the historical source of the phrase "dearest friend!"

Also, there have been some questions about the timeline in this chapter - it doesn't match either the books or the show, so I feel the need to clarify. Before I started writing this, I went over both the book and show timelines thoroughly. However, neither really made sense to me in terms of the appropriate ages for characters for the story I wanted to tell. So, I sat down and made my own timeline! It is very different from both the show and the books, but it is the best fit for my story. Maybe once I wrap this up I can share it with y'all, if that would be something you're interested in!

I'm sorry if these discrepancies bother some of you. But it is, after all, the mantra of fic writers that canon is only a suggestion!

Dearest Friend

Aemond,

I am sorry it has taken so long for me to write to you. So much has happened since I watched you fly from Driftmark on Vhagar.

Oh, what a sight that was! I had not been able to appreciate her fully in the moonlight. From where I watched in the tower – the very one you flew from – I could truly grasp her massive size and see her scales gleaming. Truly, the gods must have a sense of humor, giving you the bronze dragon and me the black.

Emrys was distressed when you all left without us. I could hear him wailing for Dreamfyre from my rooms. But I cannot blame him; I felt very much the same. I miss you – all of you – very much.

We did not linger for long at Driftmark after Ser Laenor’s funeral. It was not as grand an affair as Laena’s. I had the sense that Corlys and Rhaenys were eager for us to leave – I do not think they like either Rhaenyra or my father very well. I cannot blame them. Neither has said a word to me since we arrived on Dragonstone five days ago. I suppose it is the best outcome I could hope for, for I know Daemon to be capable of much worse.

Have you heard that Daemon and Rhaenyra were married? It happened only two days ago. I was not in attendance at the ceremony. I almost wish I was, as it was done in the Valyrian tradition. It would have been fascinating to see in reality what I have only read about and imagined for so long. But I could not have stood to be around my father for so long – to witness him in a moment of joy. I would have been sick, I think.

I have been settled in rooms in the opposite wing from the rest of them. For this, I am grateful, for it means I do not have to see my sisters, or Jace and Luke (who are now my brothers, I suppose), more often than is necessary. While I am allowed to break my fast and take my luncheon in my own rooms, I am still required to attend dinner with the family.

The first few meals, Jace and Baela tried mocking me. Baela talked about how she wished for the cuts on my face to scar so that I would never forget what happened that night. Jace tried to goad me by heaping praise on his brother for what he did to you. Though I wished to shove the entire table down their throats, I pretended not to hear them. Like Aegon, they lost interest once they realized they would get no reaction from their victim.

So now I simply sit in silence and eat my food – which on this barren island consists mainly of fish, which you know I hate. As soon as the meal is done, I retreat back to my rooms. Though it is lonely without Brynna and the rest of my companions from King’s Landing and Runestone, it is better than facing Daemon and the rest. I never thought I would, but I find myself praying for my father to continue ignoring me.

But oh! I am selfish. I have not asked anything of you. How was the ride on Vhagar? Have you ridden her since? Surely she cannot fit in the Dragonpit, so where does she lie?

And most importantly, how is your wound? Are you reading this letter yourself, or is Orwyle reading it for you? If he is, let him know how much I appreciate him, and that I hope he is treating you gently.

Please write back to me soon. I have not yet been brave enough to try and find the library here, so I am near to going mad with boredom.

Arianwyn

Sent to the Red Keep from Dragonstone on the 19th day in the third month of the year, 131 years after Aegon’s Conquest.

Arianwyn,

I am immeasurably glad to hear you are unharmed. My mother, Helaena, and I were so worried what Daemon would do once you were in his grasp. We will continue to pray that you remain safe and well.

Do not apologize for not writing – my happiness should be the least of your concerns while you are living among enemies. My mother has written to your cousin, Ser Gerold, and Lady Arryn, your Godsmother. Our hope is that they will come to the capital to petition the King for your return, and that they will be able to succeed where we could not.

I am pleased that you were so impressed with Vhagar. I have not been able to ride her since we arrived back in the capital, as Maester Orwyle continues to insist on my drinking tremendous amounts of milk of the poppy to numb my pain –I am not even sure I have any pain; he has not given me a chance to feel it. He is treating me gently, overbearingly so. He treats me as if I am a helpless, petulant child!

Your guess is correct. He is reading for me. And writing. And every other damn thing. It is only my eye that is wounded, and yet he acts as though I have been rendered incapable of even independent thought.

Arianwyn, please forgive my interjection into the Prince’s many complaints. If I indeed treat him as a “petulant child,” it is only because he acts like one. Be assured, if I did not place such restrictions on him, I am sure he would overexert himself and end up injured worse than he is now. – Orwyle

Enough about overbearing Orwyle. You asked about Vhagar.

She is so wonderful, Aria! Aegon was right, she did not need a single command from me to make her way back to King’s Landing. I think she was happy to return to the land of her youth, after so long across the sea. She flew around and around the city, frightening all the small folk, and even the nobles in the castle – they were not expecting to see such a massive dragon!

She did try to enter the Dragonpit, but you are correct, she is much too large. She has instead taken residence in the empty Tourney Grounds. Where she will go when we actually have a tourney, I have no idea. As soon as Orwyle lets me off his gods damned sedatives, I will take to the skies once more.

You did not mention how Emrys was. Have you been able to ride him? If you are so permitted, perhaps we could arrange a place to meet. There must be some clearings in the Kingswood large enough for both our dragons. Or you could just return to the Keep – come home. With me and Vhagar to defend you, surely Daemon would not try and force you to return.

Perhaps this is the milk of the poppy speaking. But I miss you very much. There are so many people at the castle, but it still feels empty without you. Even the library doesn’t feel right when you are not here to read with me.

I asked my mother about my sending you books, or some of your things from your rooms here, but she said no. It would require a great cost, and we cannot be sure that Daemon would not turn the ship away.

I am so sorry for your loneliness. I wish there was something I could do to give you comfort.

Aemond

Sent to Dragonstone from the Red Keep on the 24th day in the third month of the year, 131 years after Aegon’s Conquest.

Aemond,

Your words give me great comfort, which is increasingly hard to find. I have read your letter over and over again, for when I read your words, it feels for a moment as if I am not truly alone.

I have heard from my cousin. As I write this, he is sailing for King’s Landing. Lady Arryn will be not far behind him. I have never met her, but it warms my heart that she cares so much for the memory of my mother that she would make such a journey for me.

However, I am hesitant to hope that their words will sway the King. From what your mother told me, he was sincere in his absurd belief that my presence will soften Daemon. And now that he is wed to Rhaenyra, I fear he will be even less likely to bring me home. Besides, I am hesitant to trust him after the way he treated you at Driftmark.

As for your daring plan for my escape, I am afraid it will not be possible.

I had not the courage to approach my father with the question of my mounting Emrys again. But I mentioned my desire to ride him again to my maid, a woman by the name of Kiyara. I have suspected since I arrived that all my servants were reporting my every move to Daemon. My suspicions were confirmed when the next morning, I received a note from him as I broke my fast. It said:

“I am almost impressed by your boldness. But I must not have made myself clear. You will not leave this castle until I say otherwise. You needn’t fret for the little black dragon. He has been made comfortable in the volcanic tunnels. He is unrestrained, and has been spotted flying across the bay to hunt with Vermithor. He is most happy amongst the other unclaimed dragons.

If I knew how to reach Emrys, I would burn this whole wretched island to the ground.

My ignorance is my greatest weakness. I am utterly lost in this monstrosity of a castle. Were it not for the guards leading the way each night, I am sure I would get lost trying to find my rooms after dinner.

I feel so helpless, Aemond. I thought that as long as I had Emrys, I could endure whatever Daemon did to me. But now, I am a Targaryen without a dragon, and a Royce without armor. How will I ever survive?

Arianwyn

Sent to the Red Keep from Dragonstone on the 31st day in the third month of the year, 131 years after Aegon’s Conquest.

Arianwyn,

Just send word and I will fly Vhagar across the Blackwater and burn the island down for you. Curse of the Kinslayer be damned. It would be worth it to save you and Emrys.

But I speak in anger. A righteous anger to be sure, but still anger. To do so would have consequences beyond my control and comprehension.

All I can think of to do is pass on the note from Daemon to my father when Ser Gerold and Lady Arryn arrive. Even he cannot deny the cruelty in denying you your dragon.

The fact that you have not even seen Emrys since you arrived makes me hesitant to mention my progress with Vhagar. But I know you will want to hear – perhaps it will cheer you.

I have at last been able to ride her again, now that Orwyle has given up on being my jailer. It is just as wonderful as it was that night. Why did you never tell me how thrilling it was? Yes, you told me of the wind in your hair, the sight of people and towns below shrinking to nothing as you climb higher and higher, but you never told me how it set the blood ablaze. When I mount Vhagar, I feel as though I could conquer the world.

But I don’t want to conquer the world, Aria. I just want to save you.

Aemond

Sent to Dragonstone from the Red Keep on the 6th day in the fourth month of the year, 131 years after Aegon’s Conquest.

Aemond,

Let us write no more of my escape. Until we know it to be true, or at least have reason to truly hope, the thought serves only to sadden me.

Instead, tell me only of happy things – things to bring me light and joy as I sit alone in my gloomy tower.

How is Helaena? She and Aegon will be married soon. I wish I could be there to help her prepare. I had great plans for her gown. She has shown me so many of insects over the years, though I often wished she hadn’t. I was going to embroider the prettier ones on the skirts of her wedding gown. I thought that if she had them with her, she would not be so afraid. Perhaps you can ask your mother to do it for me.

What are you reading now? I have at last found the library here, but it is a pitiful thing. What books there are concern mostly warfare and its history. That is of no interest to me. And while there are many books on Old Valyria, they are only what we have already read. There are only a handful of collections of fairy stories. I will soon devour them all, and I have no idea what I will do then.

Please, do not hesitate to tell me more of Vhagar. If I cannot ride Emrys, your stories are my only way to the skies. I always told you that you would be the fiercest dragonrider since Aegon (the Conqueror, not your brother, obviously). Consider that now a promise. When I see you next, I want to be awed by what you and Vhagar can do together.

Arianwyn – the girl in the tower

Sent to the Red Keep from Dragonstone on the 10th day in the fourth month of the year, 131 years after Aegon’s Conquest.

Arianwyn,

I pray we will find that hope soon. Ser Gerold and Lady Arryn arrived today. My father will hear their petitions tomorrow. With luck, you will be home in time for the wedding.

My mother says she will begin embroidering Helaena’s dress for you. She says that she is sure her work will not be as beautiful as yours would be, but she has fallen out of practice in recent years. Helaena is very excited to see the finished gown, but that seems to be the only thing that interests her about the wedding. I don’t blame her, I would not want to marry Aegon either. But it is their duty, and we must always perform our duty.

I don’t know that I can be called “fierce” yet. After so long firmly planted on the ground, adapting myself to the skies can be, well, a little frightening. Vhagar is used to more daring riders than I, so she likes to fly in an equally daring manner. I am now convinced that her dive on the night I claimed her was her going easy on me. She has since flown me in ways I could have never imagined.

She has a particular fondness for flying upside-down! The first time she did so, I screamed as loud as I could for her to right us – I was afraid I could not hang onto the saddle – but she did not listen. I could only hold to the horns as tightly as I could until she at last swung around. As soon as we landed, I immediately ordered more straps to be added to the saddle to spare my aching arms.

She will make me fierce, there is no doubt about that. But with the blessings of the Seven, you will see me again before I can become the “fiercest dragonrider singe Aegon.”

Aemond, the novice dragonrider

Sent to Dragonstone from the Red Keep on the 17th day in the fourth month of the year, 131 years after Aegon’s Conquest.

Lady Arianwyn,

I wish I could write to you with better news. Lady Arryn and I were unable to secure your release from Daemon Targaryen and Dragonstone.

We were able to convince the King to make some concessions – threatening to move the armies of the Vale against Daemon will do that. He will immediately send a raven to Dragonstone to command that you will be allowed access to your dragon. The note Aemond gave us to show him did enrage the old man.

He is a clever boy, that one. He took me to your chambers in the Red Keep to show me the work you two have done deciphering the Runes. I am immensely impressed. I will be asking your Maester Orwyle to make a copy of your translations, that I may take it back to Runestone with me for our own library.

Speaking of Runestone, Lady Arryn and I were also able to convince the King to send your attendants from the Vale to Dragonstone. Their presence was a crucial part of our original agreement, and it will continue to be enforced now that Daemon has you. You may not be able to return to Runestone just yet, but it will still be with you through them.

I am so sorry that I was not able to free you from that man. The King still foolishly believes that his brother can still be saved. You and I know the truth: Daemon is a monster.

You are strong, my dear. Perhaps even stronger than your mother. I have no doubt that you will survive this, and when you at last return home to the Vale, no one will ever be able to command you again.

Ser Gerold Royce, Lord Regent of Runestone

Sent to Dragonstone from the Red Keep on the 20th day in the fourth month of the year, 131 years after Aegon’s Conquest.

Aemond,

Never stop writing. It is all I have.

You are my dearest friend.

Arianwyn

Sent to the Red Keep from Dragonstone on the 22nd day in the fourth month of the year, 131 years after Aegon’s Conquest.

My dearest friend,

I will write every day. So long as I am alive, you will never be alone.

Aemond

Sent to Dragonstone from the Red Keep on the 25th day in the fourth month of the year, 131 years after Aegon’s Conquest.

Next Chapter

#aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond imagine #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond one eye #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond

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mordenheim · 5 months

Text

“The Good We Do Is Magnified”

The following flash fic is tied into my own "Travels in Equestria" series, however this is specifically meant to be a birthday gift for @ask-de-writer, a friend who has inspired me to keep reading and writing for several years now. Thank you, old friend.

It had been almost a decade since the tall, slender zebra had wandered, filthy and starving out of the Everfree. Some ponies had been welcoming of the skinny creature, even pitied him a bit at first. Others saw him as a target for ridicule and distrust. He had been accused of witchcraft, demon summoning, even cannibalism at one point.

When he decided to set up a clinic at the edge of the woods, just outside of town it caused quite a stir. First the Ponyville Medical Society tried to get it shut down, even trying to drag Princess Luna into the mess. That backfired for them horribly. Some ponies tried to scam money from him and religious zealots picketed his clinic. All the while he merely spent his time helping who he was able to and doing his research in private.

Eventually, he ran afoul of a group of zebra supremacists who demanded that he leave the clinic and share his research with only them. He refused and later that night they returned and burned his clinic to the ground.

Hours later, his battered and broken body was found in the bushes near the still burning clinic by an older blue unicorn pony with a white mane and beard. Having watched what the zebra had done from afar, he teleported him far away.

When he finally awoke, Victor was in a bed he didn't recognize in a place he did not know. The old pony introduced himself as De Writer and told him that he had been watching the doctor for a while now.

Over the next month, they talked and got to know one another as the zebra healed from his wounds. He was left with a few more scars to go with his missing eye and the scars on his neck and chest but otherwise seemed even stronger than he had been before. When asked about his healing, he told the tale of his travels from a far different Equestria and a curse given to him long ago.

It was a new day, though. The old pony stood in front of the large building that was put up in place of the old clinic. He tilted his head a bit as he saw the sign above the door was covered up with a tarp. Within moments, the zebra had found him, greeting him with an oddly sharp-toothed smile and guided him inside.

Within, creatures of all races were working together. Gryphons manning desks and helping pegasi patients. Donkeys helping to research magical maladies and guiding people where they needed to go. Dragon sterilizing equipment and helping with physical therapy. Diamond dogs helping find mineral buildups in other creatures' bodies and helping test the purity of metal in various instruments. Every creature you could imagine seemed to be here, either to work or in need of help. Nobody was turned away or looked down on, all working in harmony with each other.

Everywhere he turned, a new breakthrough was seen. Neurological interfaces to help creatures with nerve damage. Special injections and physical therapy programs to rebuild atrophied muscle rapidly. Artificial legs, wings, hooves, tails, even eyes that seemed to function perfectly normally. There even seemed to be some sort of research into magically growing internal organs for transplant. It was all so much.

“I could have grown bitter and hateful” the zebra confided, leaning down as he wrapped a foreleg around the unicorn in a gentle hug. He made sure to pause for a moment to ensure that his limb wouldn't pass right through. “But you showed me true kindness and friendship in spite of our differences, so I decided that I needed to show the same to every other creature. Please, I have just one last thing to show you.”

They walked back through the front doors, the unicorn almost in a daze with everything he had seen. Trotting down the stairs at the front of the building, nodding in greeting to others using the ramps on the sides, the zebra led him down to the small courtyard in front of the building.

Grinning to himself the zebra gave out a shrill whistle and a gryphon and a pegasus flew up to the tarp covering the sign on the building. Lifting it away, a huge brass plaque was revealed:

“The De Writer Center for Inter-Species Medical Research”

“This is the end result of your kindness. You showed me that everyone deserves a chance, no matter their species. We will continue to work diligently every day to honor your name.”

#mordenheim #pony #zebra #mlp:fim #de writer #unicorn #pegasus #dragon #diamond dogs #gryphon #happy birthday #harpy bird-day

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whatawonderfulexistence--blog · 11 months

Text

Band of Sisters, Band of Thieves (Medieval! Powerwolf x Fem! Princess! Reader) - Part III

WARNINGS: Depictions of battle, description of wounds/bodily injury, fatal arrow wounds, short graphic description of a decapitation, swearing, I think that's everything if I missed any please let me know!

Part II - Part IV

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Good morning, Your Highness." You couldn't keep the smile off your face as he quietly entered the room. You quickly sent your maid off, assuring her you would be fine in the mercenary's capable hands

"Sir Charles, good morning." You close the book you were reading, offering to pour him a cup of tea as he sits in the chair opposite you.

"Oh, thank you Princess, but I wouldn't want to put you through the trouble." He chuckles.

"We go through this every morning, it is no trouble at all to make you a simple cup of tea." You meet his gaze, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Fine, but only because you look like you're about to stab me if I refuse." He teases you with a laugh, you couldn't help but join in with giggles of your own. You carefully pour the tea into the waiting cup, Charles focusing intently on your small, delicate hands as they worked.

"See something interesting?" His eyes quickly snap up to your face, a gentle smile gracing your features. "You're staring."

"My apologies, Princess." He lets out a flustered chuckle. "I just always forget how petite your hands are." You hand him his cup and saucer, his fingers brushing over yours in the exchange.

"Surely it can't be that much of a difference." He held out his hand to you.

"May I?" You give him an apprehensive nod, letting your hand slip into his. He held his up alongside yours. His rough, calloused skin incredibly warm against your own. Your fingertips barely reached his first knuckle, his palm nearly twice as wide as your own. He chuckles at the sight before pulling back. You let your hand fall back into your lap, fighting off the heat that was slowly building in your cheeks.

"So, what story have you come to share today?" He ponders it for a moment, taking a long sip of his tea.

"Let's see, where did we leave off last time?" He hums pensively before continuing, "if I'm not mistaken I was telling you about one of our trips through the mountains?" You nodded, thinking back to the tale he had told you yesterday. "We were crossing the border into the next kingdom over…"

"I'm telling you, something doesn't seem right about this place." Matthew says, keeping a sharp eye on the treeline of the trail. "I feel like we have eyes boring into us from every direction." He looked ahead at his commander, Attila who was also unusually tense. The three of you alerted at the groaning of a tree branch overhead. "Get down!" Matthew shouts, an arrow whizzed overhead just as he ducked down, sticking into a nearby tree.

"My, my, if it isn't Commander Dorn in the flesh, my mistake gentlemen!" A chipper voice rings down from the foliage. Charles readied his axe, he was having trouble pin pointing exactly where the voice was coming from. Was this some kind of enemy attack? If it was, why was he wasting so much time talking? More branches creaked over head, the group trying to follow his path. He appeared from the leaves, dropping into the middle of the path, bow still in hand. "There's been a lot of bandits around these parts recently, forgive the confusion." Charles instantly recognized who they were looking at. Every town they had come across seemed to know of him. Rumors of a lanky man with a bow, a greater shot than Agilaz himself.

"You're that ranger they're all talking about, the one that came down from the North." The man quirks and eyebrow at him.

"Oh, so you've heard of me." He gives them a showman's bow. "Well, flattery will get you everywhere." He chuckles. "Name's Falk, I'd like to venture a guess at you being the Wolfborne Company."

"How have you heard of us all the way out here?" Attila asks, his stern expression never shifting.

"You've had some incredible exploits Commander Dorn, there isn't a single person around these parts that hasn't uttered your name. The fearless leader that carries a sword with a brass wolf head on the hilt." Falk's eyes narrow as they flash down to his Commander's weapon. Attila stares the man down, silently analyzing him.

"You have a horse?" He questions, Falk nods.

"He's a ways off in the woods, but yes."

"You're welcome to ride along with us if you'd like. A man with skills like yours would be a great asset to my company." Falk smirks, slinging his bow over his shoulder.

"Riding along side a band of mercenaries like you? I think it's the other way around." They planned to meet in the next town a couple miles up the path.

"Are you sure we can trust him?" Matthew asks Attila.

"No." He responds bluntly. "But whether we can trust him or not is irrelevant. We're much better off with him as an ally."

"So he's a good shot with a bow, I think he's awfully full of himself-"

"He missed Charles on purpose." Attila explains. "A ranger like him wouldn't miss such an easy shot, especially at a fraction of a centimeter like that."

"Don't think that warrants him riding with us." Charles mumbles.

"Ah, don't be so tough on him." Attila chuckles. "If he was in any way personable I'm sure he would've been snatched up by an army by now."

"It sounds like you and Sir Falk didn't get along at first." You giggle.

"Not in the slightest." Charles responds with a laugh. "Falk has a very… spontaneous personality, to put it lightly. He likes to get himself into trouble by rushing headfirst into things. I'm definitely one of the most tactical of the group. I have a tendency to overthink things."

"I can see why the two of you would butt heads." You say with a smile. "But, you two seem so close now, what happened?"

"Patience Princess, I was getting there." Charles assures you, chuckling at your eagerness. "We had been traveling with him for a couple weeks. We had decided to join up with another group of mercenaries we had worked with in the past, try and get a little extra money before the colder months came. They failed to mention how strong our opponents would be."

For the first time since the battle had started Charles was able to pause for a brief moment to take in the scene that was unfolding around him. The deafening clang of metal against metal never ceased, friend and foe alike lay dead at his feet. He had lost the other members of his company in the chaos, leaving him much more vulnerable than he would have liked. He whirled around at the sound of a loud thud behind him, a giant of a swordsmen falling to the ground, an arrow piercing directly through his throat. Charles' eyes drifted behind his attacker to find Falk standing there, bow still drawn. The two of them stared at each other, neither knowing what the appropriate thing to say in response would be. "Behind you!" Falk suddenly yells. Charles caught a flash of the ranger charging in his direction as he turned to face the threat. He swung his battleax wide, not knowing where his enemy was he would at least stand a chance at hitting him. The edge of his blade grazed the man's arm, not enough to do serious damage but enough to startle him backwards. "I'll cover you, take care of him. We have three more approaching on my side." Charles heaed the thunk of Falk's bow string as he sent an arrow. "Two more." He states smugly.

"Just don't get yourself killed." Charles says gruffly, he had more important matters to attend to than babysitting his Commander's golden goose. He locked eyes with his enemy, his prior look of surprise now nothing short of pure bloodlust. Charles stood his ground, carefully analyzing the man's movements as he prepared his attack. He was inexperienced; the grip he had on the hilt of his sword was awkward and noticeably too stiff, he took no sort of battle stance, the tip of his sword shook with unease. He charged forward with a yell, his voice cracking as he almost stumbled face first into the dirt. Charles stepped to the side, bringing his ax down swiftly on the man's blade, cracking it in half with ease. The man looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes. It was apparent to Charles now that this was no man, no warrior of this kingdom's army, the boy cowering before him couldn't have been more than seventeen. Charles nods in the direction of the treeline, "get out of here, there's a town about a three days walk through the woods, if there's anyone left of the army they won't go looking for you there." The boy nods, scrambling off before Charles has a chance to change his mind.

"Shit!" He hears Falk curse. He spins on his heels to find him splayed on the ground, struggling to fight off the knife being forced towards his throat. Charles charged forward with a yell, throwing his full weight behind his swing when the man was in range. The blade sliced through his neck in one fell swoop, his head bouncing off of the ground with a full thud. Falk rolled the man's decapitated body off of him, panting as he struggled to catch his breath. "Charles… thank you." Charles holds out his hand to him, hoisting him from the ground. He brushes off Falk's shoulder.

"I thought I told you not to get killed." They share a laugh. Charles readied his ax at the sound of a snapping twig, by that time Falk had already retrieved an arrow from his quiver and shot it into the approaching man's neck.

"I know it probably doesn't mean much coming from me, but I'm eternally grateful that you saved my life."

"I'd hope you'd do the same for me, that's all." Charles responds with a smile.

"Not to get all emotional during battle, but I'm glad I got to join up with your company, you're a fine group of fighters." He states proudly.

"Save the tears for the victory banquet, we've still got work to do."

"What are you telling her that old, boring story for?" Falk appeared in the doorway, leaning up against the frame and crossing his arms over his chest.

"I need to make sure she knows how insufferable you used to be." Both of them laugh. "I take it I'm being summoned?" Falk nods.

"Roel was supposed to return from his expedition this morning, we're going to ride out to look for him." Charles informs him he'll be along shortly.

"I'm sorry to cut things short today, Your Highness." He apologizes, bowing his head slightly.

"There's no need to be sorry Charles." You reach out and carefully take his hand in yours. "I'm sure you'll find him, but good luck, and please… please be careful." He gently squeezes your hand in his, breathing out a chuckle at how tiny you were compared to him.

"I'll be careful, Your Highness. You have my word."

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Tag List: @ramblingoak @mustluvecho @kissingghouls @moss-the-moth @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @jennmakesitweird @gothdaddyissues @angellayercake @angel-layer-cake @iamsarahsaysso @belnovacaine @vampghoulette @canarycolemine @copiousloverofcopia @rabidghoul

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jinx-on-mars-19xx · 1 year

Text

Since I was gone so long I thought I might do a little reintroduction 🧠

Hey people I love! 🫀

My name is Colson but you can call me Col or Jinx. I was on here originally as Jinx before my Tumblr disappeared but for about two years I've been back and mostly used Col. I'm great with either 🌹

I'm a trans man, he/they 🏳️‍⚧️

I'm mostly a Yungblud and Machine Gun Kelly fan page, I do fics, updates, and pic edits but I do a little bit of everything with a lot of my life sprinkled in, sometimes including my health problems (I'm open about all of it if you ever have questions) I actually love questions and asks as long as people are nice 🖤

Just thought I'd introduce myself in case any of my mutuals are new. This is somewhat of an 18+ blog, at least leaning that way but all I mean by that is sometimes subjects are a little mature. Thank you for stopping by and I hope you enjoy! Stay a while if you want just please be respectful. I don't tolerate any racism or hate against the LGBTQIA+ or mental or physical health hate. I'm sure I'm missing something but you get the idea I'm sure. I love you all and I'm here if you need me!

-Col the Jinx 💕

🖤 Masterlist 🖤

Yes Daddy Verse/Saga of Smut

Dom x Colson

Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly

I Think I'm Okay (prequel)

5 Times Col Came in His Pants and 1 Time He Finally Made Dom Do It

Drown Out The Demons

Romcom Bullshit

Much Better Workout

Sex and Candy

Claimed in Ink and Cum

Sweet as Sin

Yes Daddy

Spoiled Princess

What Daddy Likes

Like I Love You

Reverse Cowgirl Barbie

Sex on a Stick

Baby Boy

Pure No Longer

Sext Edits

Adventures in Toyland

Full on Sex Symbol

They Felt Eternal

Their Natural State

Ride or Die

Sin on Stilettos and a Cotton Candy Soul

Crimson Coated Candy

Piss Drenched Devil

Chocolate Kisses and Golden Showers

It's a Nice Day for a White Wedding

Sin in Snow White Taffeta and Latex

Freshly Fucked and Beautifully Filthy Manhandled Marionette of a Bride

Watercolor Wet Dream Come to Life

Drifting Deep in Hopefully Wet Dreamland

Flesh to Flesh

Five Times is a flashback series in the Yes Daddy Verse, it is set between the prequel and the first chapter- Yes Daddy. I placed it all in order 🖤

Adventures in Toyland is a follow up series to the Yes Daddy Verse, I'll still list them all in order and may add to any sections at any time. Let me know if you have ideas! 🖤

It's a Nice Day for a White Wedding is a follow up series to the Yes Daddy Verse happening after Adventures in Toyland, they're all listed in order and you guessed it, the boys finally get married! 🖤

-Omegaverse AU-

Gunpowder and Watermelon

Autocorrected Anxiety Attacks and Messy Sexts

Pachyderms and Pointed Teeth

Knocked Up Knockouts and Cheesy Puns

A Little Less Sparkle, A Little More Reality

The Overwhelming Significance of Surprisingly Small Jellybeans

The Folly of Fracturing Sharp China and Soft Hearts

Fear and Lusting in London Flats

The Inevitability of Egos Clashing and Vicious Tongue Lashings

Of Sugar and Spice and Virgin Tight Asses

A Rebel's Yell and a Gangster's Paradise

Candy Hearts and Paper Cut Families

Photogenic Admissions and Confessional Panic Attacks

Little Shop of (W)horrors in a Pastel Hell

The Inescapable Moment of Truth and the Consequences of Open Black Hearts

Milk Chocolate Cherry Kisses and Birthday Wishes

Working Out the Kinks Under Hot Lights and Wanting Stares

The Taming of a Wild Boy

The Dynamics of a Bright Future and How to Reach It

Pride and Phenomenal Passion

Stereotypes and Salt in the Wound

What to Expect from an Expecting Omega

Patched Up Cuts and Mixed Up Blood

Alpha, Omega, a Nuisance, a Rebel

Lost Boy in Toyland

Starry Eyed and Punch Drunk

Mirrored Reflections and Babes from Outer Space

Believing in Love Songs and Tall Tales

Go Down Just Like Holy Mary

Piss Kinks, Morning Drinks, and Brand New Nicknames

Animated Arguments and Matching Love Languages

Screaming and Dreaming for the Future

Son of Rage and Love

Son of a Bitch and Edgar Allan Poe

Couch Confessions and Heavy Petting

Early Spawning and Other Lessons (Family Don't End With Blood)

One Flew Over the Klepto's Nest

Old Magic and Animal Aptitude

Strawberries and Cinnamon Toast

Your Body is a Wonderland

Born With Horns

In the Midst of Mild Madness

What's in a Name?

Spare the Rod Spoil the Alpha

To Cut or Not to Cut

Our Blood Got Mixed Up So I Guess We Belong to Each Other

Feels Like the Very First Time

Headboards and Scratched Tats

Best Alarm Clock

The Beasts Inside Disguised as Beauty

Popsicles and Pink Cheeks

The omegaverse AU is separate from the Yes Daddy Verse. The boys are still themselves but in an ABO world. Alpha Col and Omega Dom

-The Viking and the Fae- (an AU)

Where the Sea and Land Kiss

A Chieftain's Vow

Under the Thrall

The Long Sword's Hilt

Taste Like the Sea

Inga Knows Best

Feast Fit for a King

How the Waves Dance

The Forest Meets the Sea

The Soulmate Stalemate

The Taste of Truth and Tall Tales

The Wave Cresting

The Wave That Drowns

The Red Sea and the Viking Who Conquered It

Seal With a Kiss

A Broken Past and a Sea of Tears

The Siren's Tease and the Secrets Spilled

War and Pieces of Each Other

The Storm that Rocks the Waves

The Hush Between

Viking/Selkie AU. Separate from other fics but still Dom and Colson

#introduction #life update #col rambles #jinx rambles #my fics #masterlist #com #yes daddy verse #yungblud and machine gun kelly #dom and colson #yungblud #machine gun kelly #5 times col came in his pants and the 1 time he made dom do it #adventures in toyland #its a nice day for a white wedding

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violettduchess · 2 years

Note

Keith, Iris

A/N: Part of my 500 Follower Celebration🎉

fluff, angst

tw: blood imagery

Keith x f!Reader

Word Count: 1372

The day drags through though storms keep out the sun; / And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on; –Lord Byron, Waterloo

You’ve always found beauty in the night sky, watching the way the stars appear like diamonds scattered across a blanket of soft, black velvet. But it was only when you met Keith that you began to unlock its secrets. Planets emerged from behind glowing points of light, stars connected with each other to form shapes. The sky was full of stories and he was the cipher to understanding it all.

“You’re quiet, my love.” His voice is silken, his breath warm against the side of your neck. A smile, soft as the night clouds drifting above, crosses your lips and you roll within the circle of his arms to face him.

“I’m going to miss you.” Your words are simple, but heavy with the sadness of Keith’s impending departure.

In the pale light of his darkened bedroom, his eyes still glow like golden lanterns, beacons of love and warmth that guide you back home whenever you feel lost. Now those eyes are also dimmed with regret. He reaches up, brushing back loose strands of your hair, his hand lingering on the curve of your cheek.

“I’ll send a message every day.” He sighs, eyes downcast. “But God, I’ll miss you too.” A cloud of anger drifts over his face and you reach up hurriedly.

“No, no. As hard as it may be, we both know it is necessary for you to be there for the peace brokerings.” It is your turn to stroke his skin, soothingly. “Don’t be mad. Not when I love to see you smile.”

The tension in his body relaxes as he pulls you closer to him, safe and warm within the comfort of his bed. You breathe out, closing your eyes. Your Keith has been with you for weeks now. The sweet, gentle man you fell in love with. The one who stole your heart with astronomy and fairy tales and walks through the woods. That other side of him, the wraith of shadow and violence that would take control and torment your heart, has seemingly disappeared, not showing himself since that fateful night before your wedding.

A shudder passes through you with memories of that night. Of words that were said, ultimatums hurled like daggers, pain so hot and acidic, it felt like you would go up in flames and burn the palace to cinders. Your sweet Keith falling to his knees, scream-shattered, shaking and broken but ultimately victorious. He had defeated his darkness, he said, tears streaming down his face as he clung to your gown, face pressed into your skirts. It had nearly cost him his soul but he had won. You had gathered him into your arms like a broken marionette and held him to you, whispers of love and comfort wrapping themselves around the grisly wounds in his heart, holding those pieces of him that survived together. The first step to the nightmare ending.

He sighs now, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “ ‘The day drags through though storms keep out the sun’.”

You tilt your head up in surprise. He is quoting your favorite poet, a man renowned for his romantic words and salacious behavior. You had mentioned once, ages ago while on a walk through meadows of wildflowers, that this was a line from your favorite couplet of poetry. At the time he had merely nodded. You had no idea he would still remember something as small as that. Your heart warms with a surge of love and affection.

Your palms run over the smooth, bare skin of his back as you move closer, pressing your body against his.

“We have time before it is daylight, my prince. Let’s make some more memories to keep us company in all those lonely nights that lay ahead.”

The way he smiles burns itself into your mind, a slow, satisfied curve of lip, like a man with a craving who has just been given that which he hungers for. He rolls until he is above you, his large, powerful hands sliding down to capture your wrists. He raises them until they are above your head, one hand enough to hold them together, pinning you down.

“Your wish is my command,” he murmurs as he lowers his mouth to yours once again, shrinking your world down to nothing but the indomitable power of his touch on your body.

Dawn always comes, whether it is awaited fervently or resisted with a passion. Horses and men are ready. The royal carriage stands with its beautiful white horses in the lavender light of early morning. You gaze at them from the large window of the salon, arms wrapped around yourself as you watch the final pieces of luggage being loaded onto carts. The ache at having to say goodbye throbs with every beat of your heart.

The door to the salon opens and you hear the click of boots on polished wood. You close your eyes. Part of you wishes he had not come here. That your last vision of him was what you saw before falling asleep last night: hair tousled, lips kiss-bruised, shoulders decorated by your fingernails with red stripes of ardor and devotion.

But you don’t want to waste a drop of precious time with him. You turn, launching yourself into his arms, burying your face into the coarse fabric of his uniform. His arms tighten around you.

So tight.

“There, there.”

Those words. They are whispered slowly, almost a drawl, dripping with something, drops of liquid nitrogen that freeze the blood in your veins, that stop your heart from beating. His arms tighten even more, your ribs crying out at the pressure.

“You…..” The word is a hiss, the air he is pressing from you escaping your deadened lips in a rasp. No….your heart screams….No….

“What’s the matter, wife?” He steps back, his white gloved hands sliding down your arms to grip your wrists in a twisted echo of last night, except now they feel like manacles. “Don’t you want to say one last goodbye to your husband? Or was last night more than enough for you?”

You recoil, but his hold on you is iron.

“You….were gone. He…beat you.” The words burn, leaving your tongue blackened and ashen. “Why have you come back?” There is a tremor in your voice, harbinger of the scream you wish you could release, the fury that this side of him wasn’t banished for good.

“Come back?” He yanks you toward him, lowers his head. His breath is a viperous hiss in your ear. “My love, I never left.”

Horror is a monsoon, washing over you, filling your lungs until they feel like they might explode. Your skin is cold, ashen, corpse-like. You burn and you freeze and one more touch will shatter you like a cracked glass figurine.

“No…..” The word struggles past a throat choked with revulsion. “We….He….he defeated you. You….he said you….were gone….” Words pour out of you, blood flowing from a gaping wound.

Keith delivers you a knife-edged smile. “One of us is.” A white glove reaches up, flicking away the tears on your cheek. “Do not cry. I’ll be home soon and we will be reunited. Husband and wife. Together forever.”

And then with the turn of an immaculate white boot, he is gone.

You sink to the wooden floor, hand pressed tightly against your mouth. Flashes of your life over the last few weeks whirl through your mind, images fractured as if seen through a kaleidoscope. Your wedding. Your honeymoon. The blissful days leading up to this moment. His eyes, those soft mirrors of gold, now broken and jagged. His smile cruel. Your memories as false as his heart has been this entire time.

Unbidden, the second line of your favorite verse comes spinning wildly into your consciousness: ‘And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on’.

As you sit on the floor, your whole world shredded and laying like tattered ribbons all around you, there is no sense of living on. There is only the endless darkness of a starless sky, that heavy, smothering black velvet waiting to engulf you, mind, body, and soul.

▪

Tagging: @scorchieart @aquagirl1978 @atelieredux @alixennial @alexxavicry @rhodolitesroseforclavis @somekidnamedkai @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @ikehoe @redheadkittys @themysticalbeing @queen-dahlia @moonstruck-writing @dear-mrs-otome @queengiuliettafirstlady

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen keith #ikepri keith #keith howell #keith x reader #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #500 follower celebration #violettwrites

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acapelladitty · 2 years

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Scriddler fic: The First Terrace

A short drabble prompt fill for the word "Pride" as part of a monthly discord challenge. Focuses on Jonathan Crane and Edward Nygma.

"It does surprise me at times."

Humming in lieu of an answer, Jonathan looked up from the intricate gauntlet blueprints which he had been pouring over for the last hour to see Edward peering over the edge of his newspaper at him with some interest.

At the slight attention and even vaguer prompting, Edward continued his small rambling.

"How, for all the sensationalism which our crimes and lives create in these tabloid rags, the people of this city truly know so little about us. How they would recoil to think of the free time we share, how we choose to spend it, and who we choose to spend it with."

Following the point, Jonathan's face never shifted from its neutrality as he gave a short yet accurate reply.

"In the grand scheme of my sins, who I chose to share my bed with is hardly going to be the most controversial."

"Clearly, but have you ever wished that they understood more of your life outside of their limited, grotesque views? Have you ever even felt a little proud of who you are? Of what you are?"

Frowning at the question, Jonathan spun in his chair slightly to ensure that his body faced Edward as he spoke with a low clarity.

"In my youth, the land next to our own was purchased by a kindly man who quickly moved in to the farmhouse with a fellow man in tow. The immediate hate that Granny felt for them was much more vitriolic than usual. At the time, I assumed it was because the shorter of the two had skin which was a little too browned to be purely the fault of the harsh sun but, as it later transpired, that was only part of the issue."

"They were a homosexual couple?" Folding up the large newspaper, Edward's emerald gaze was locked onto Jonathan's passive expression.

It was rare for Jonathan to offer insight into his childhood and he refused to miss even the slightest inflection of his tone as he spoke.

"Don't interrupt me." Jonathan scolded. "But yes, with the power of hindsight, they were romantically inclined. Something which my developing mind had not quite understood at the time since such a concept was unthinkable. One day their truck broke down on the road in front of our farmhouse and I went to offer assistance; ever the good Christian boy helping others as I should have."

Edward's snort was unmistakable but he had the grace to incline his head in apology to allow Jonathan to continue speaking.

"I was able to offer some old car parts from our shed to get their truck up and running again and once they were fixed up, they thanked me and moved on. Later that night, at dinner, I delighted in telling the old crone about my charitable deed in the hopes of entering her good graces. For being somewhat of a good boy for once."

Sensing where the tale was headed, Edward schooled his expression into one of stoic interest; knowing that the slightest hint of pity on his features would be met with a harsh retaliation and ceasing of information.

"Much later, after she had split the wood of the birch switch across my back for the sin of consorting with immoral demons, she sent me in my best suit to the old church. The still bleeding wounds appeared to ignite a fresh bloodlust in her damned birds and when she came to collect me the following morning, I was near collapse due to the extent of the attack."

"Your restraint in biding your time to kill her is admirable as always." Offering the short comment with a small smile, Edward halted his tongue quickly to hear the end of the story.

"Despite the pain and fear, I also felt the true rage of injustice for the first time. Why was I to be punished for doing what she had preached to me as being the right thing to do? It ignited a fire of rebellion within me which was never to be snuffed thereafter. It was also not the be the last flame either."

"As much as I am enjoying this insight into your particular traumas, what's the relevance to my initial line of enquiry?"

"As my own inclinations grew more apparent into adolescence, I was able to look back with a clarity that if she had known or even suspected what I were to become then she would have probably left me to die in that freezing church on that formative morning."

Unable to help himself, Edward muttered his thoughts.

"And in doing so would have saved the general population more than a few headaches."

"So, to answer your initial point," Jonathan cut in with a scathing pointedness, "I have never taken any pride in what I am. However, despite the efforts of my upbringing, I also feel no shame over it and that applies to all aspects of self. Pride is reserved for my work and I have long since come to terms with myself for what I am and have found some level of acceptance."

"I often take pride in the self," flashing his pearly white teeth, Edward crossed one leg over his lap as he reclined on the low couch, "but I also take a lot of pride in my work. It doesn't have to be either or. You can have both."

"Edward," fixing the redhead with a cool glare, Jonathan sighed, "you and pride are stronger bedfellows than you and I could ever hope to be. There is no comparison to be had."

Seeking to refute the point, Edward's mouth clamped shut as he realised that, just this once, Jonathan was probably correct in his assessment.

#jonathan crane #edward nygma #riddler #scarecrow #scriddler #gotham rogues #batman villains

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agiantnerdthefirst · 6 months

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FNAF THEORY TIME: PRESSURE IS ABOUT MICHEAL AFTON

Okay, time to be insane (or sound really stupid one of the two). This might also kind of get repetitive and sound really confusing because I am bad at wording things but I just need people to hear me out on this, okay? Okay. More below the cut because I talk a lot

SO, first thing first, a recap/telling for those who haven’t read Pressure. Pressure is a tale from book three of the Pizzaplex books. In the story a highschool student known as Luca goes to the Pizzaplex with three of his friends, Asher, Nolan, and Maddy. They pressure (hehe) him into wearing a Springtrap costume for a “roleplay scenario” where they’ll be thrown into a recreation of Fnaf 1 where “Springtrap” will chase three other people around.

Luca doesn’t like the idea of being Springtrap because he doesn’t like the idea of dressing up as, to him in his universe, a real serial killer. Also he doesn’t like the idea of being Springtrap because even if the missing kids he “killed” were simply “ghost stories” or “rumors” he has a deep empathy for the topic because as a kid he had a friend named Kenny (who, to him, was like a little brother), who died. The death is something he blames himself for even though he couldn’t prevent it even if he wanted to.

Luca still gives in to peer pressure (haha) though and puts on the suit reluctantly so as to not soil his reputation and appear as a loser. However, it turns out that the costume is an actual springlock suit. The suit, throughout the story, slowly kills Luca as he tries to reach out for his friends' help only to get abandoned by them. In the end, a group of children enter the area in hopes to play out a completely different scenario. However, a man dressed in the worst Springtrap costume known to man appears and is lurking around with disgusting intentions.

Luca, despite bleeding out everywhere, manages to save the kids and strangle the other Springtrap to death before dying himself.

This story, if you couldn’t tell, is one of my favorites simply by having someone dressed as the “Real Springtrap” kill a pedophile in a fake Springtrap suit. Really drives the point that William Afton never did nasty stuff with kids and only killed them and that he would kill a pedo on sight.

However, there is more. That’s right, I am looking beneath the surface a bit more than people have already. By that, I mean that this story is one hundred percent (to me and my silly little brain) about Micheal Afton.

How?

Well first, let’s state some basic similarities.

First, the past. As I have stated before Luca had a friend named Kenny who went missing for a bit and was then found dead and ever since then Luca has been tormented by this loss. I believe this is meant to parallel Elizabeth and Mike.

“Erm, wouldn’t it be Mike and CC-” No. That comes later. And later is right now. Luca is peer pressured by the rest of his friends to participate in being Springtrap for the roleplay. This represents Mike and his “friends” bullying CC. It also shows that he is following the path of his father by putting on the Springtrap suit.

When he puts it on, before the game begins, Luca can feel the metal of the Springlocks poking at his skin. Later in the story he brings up that the moment he felt the pricks his brain immediately realized that they were probably Springlocks. Despite this, Luca lied to himself and went ahead with what he was doing anyways.

This shows that Micheal knew that tormenting CC was wrong but went along with it anyways despite the consequences that may come to him.

As time goes on in the story, the suit begins activating, leaving Luca with fatal wounds that will be his end. He tries to beg his friends for help but they think it’s all an act and thus Luca is left by himself in the fake Fazbear’s in a desperate attempt to chase down a freedom he would never achieve.

Micheal’s life, as time went on, fell apart after CC’s death. Leaving him down a path that will also be his demise. His goals are not his own. After all, William is the one that leads him to Circus Baby and Rental where he gets his organs removed. He tries to help the spirits his father had wronged which had led him to keep returning to Freddy’s over and over again.

Their friends have left. The only thing remaining for Luca and Micheal is Freddy’s and the will to protect the people inside it.

Luca and Micheal’s actions lead to the death of a horrible person who would have continued to cause pain and suffering for others had they not given their lives for their cause. They both died satisfied with their final actions.

“Although there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be.” - Henry, FNAF 6

“The last thought Luca had before thoughts were beyond him was that his inner compass was working again. His final act had not been someone else’s idea. It had been his own.” - Pressure (Tales of The Pizzaplex 3, page 147).

I may be wrong or I may be right. No matter what, this ends the theory/though process for all of us. End communication.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf security breach #freddy fazballs #freddy fazbear #fnaf #fnaf theory #Five Night's at Freddy's Theory #micheal afton #tales of the pizzaplex #Pressure

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readerinsertfanfiction · 2 years

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The Reason

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOBIONE @senju-sekhmet TUMBLR PLAYED SUPER DUPER NOT NICE SO NOW I LOST THE ORIGINAL MESSAGE, BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. ANYWAY, YOU ARE GETTING OLD OR SHOULD I SAY ANCIENT? I HOPE YOU WOKE UP WITH A SUPER WRINKLY ASS TO MATCH THE OLD GRUMPY SOUL YOU ARE. FLEX THOSE MUSCLES AND ARM WRESTLE YOUR BOSS DOWN. LAUGH LOTS, DRINK EVEN MORE (water) AND EAT UNTIL YOU BURST.

Remember that one Tobirama series I mentioned like years ago (during lockdown #1 even, I think) Well, my idea was to release it on your birthday, but then I still haven’t finished it so instead you get a one-shot version of Tobirama’s pov, because we still gotta feed the simps, no?

I HOPE TODAY IS A SUPER SPECIAL DAY FOR YOU. WE NEED TO PICK A NEW DATE SO THAT YOU CAN GET YOU //ACTUAL// BIRTHDAY PRESENTS AND I CAN WATCH YOUR FACE AS YOU UNPACK THEM. FUCK COVID. Be sure to include me in your will and give me 10 cm of your height, please. 🥺🥺🥺 I swear I will write you all of the proper cheesy notes that you want if you do.

Fandom: Naruto

Character: Tobirama Senju

Prompt: See nove above

Warnings: mentions of violence and war, mentions of character death

Words: +2k

“You are the enemy.” It wasn’t much of an observation, it was a statement. One made in disgrudgement when a figure immediately tended to the wounds he had sustained. The fight was still going on, the cries of war filling ear and mind and the agitation of the earlier struggle Tobirama had barely managed to kill before it took him was still fresh in body and blood. The body still fresh next to him, the eyes still open where the hate had faded into an emptiness of escaped life. It had exhausted Tobirama, after the wave of enemies constantly pelting over him, one after one, in groups and in pairs, sometimes cockily alone. Surrounding him was a slaughter field, but he was alone, wounded and cut and finally able to catch a breath which he did in the soil drenched by blood of which the mud stained red instead.

It was the lack of killer’s instinct that had allowed the medic to come so close to him, Tobirama reasoned, not quite believing himself to be so far gone yet not to notice anyone slip by so closely. The colours of the clothes, the clan symbol proudly placed at all acupunctural ends. The same ones that surrounded him and belonged to the last one Tobirama had struck down and whose eyes hadn’t even closed yet before the soul departed. He tried to summon the energy to attack, to strike once more, to prove to all that the stories told and the legends that came off the battlefields were more than just tales.

The gentle press of a hand against his leg, a stab wound that had fractured the bone there and which he had worried by stubbornly pushing himself forth, is what stilled Tobirama from whatever attack he had in mind.

“You are wounded.” The statement made his eyes roll, a groan following after when pressure was applied to his leg and then forcefully pulled straight before a shock of chakra shook his body. He could feel the bones snapping together, the veins forcing themselves back into place and the skin reforming itself. Any response to the asinine remark faded to the back of his mind with the pain that flashed across his eyes.

“You are the enemy,” he stated once more, as if that would shake his helper back into reality. It came as a low gasp, the sound of fabric tearing before something burning was pressed against his wound and the smell of alcohol followed after.

He hadn’t missed the glare set over him, or directed at the symbol pressed upon his attire. The Senju clan, beloved and hated, were hard to miss and known by all, and Tobirama knew that his appearance was much the same. Recognisable and revered as much as it was avoided.

“And?” The question followed, as if daring the man to say what he was thinking, telling him to get straight to the point already. And, as if he had asked the stupidest question possible. And, as if helping him was the most natural thing in the world. Like the war didn’t exist that split their sides apart, as if the bodies of the former comrades didn’t litter the field in which Tobirama found himself.

“You should want me dead.” He resigned, knowing that if so willed he would have died a thousand times over already, if possible. The chakra that had coursed through him to heal could as easily have poisoned him further, or wrecked all of his innards until he was a mash of meat inside and out with none the wiser until a headcount was made.

A sniff followed, not one of lament, but of heavy disapproval. Of the type that wordlessly scolded Tobirama with words others rarely dared to use on him, for he would make them eat them in the same breath.

“If you want to die, do it out of my sight,” the remark was snubbed at him as Tobirama wondered when he had ever allowed anyone to abuse him as such, let alone an enemy. The feeling of a makeshift splint against his leg and another thrust of chakra forced through his system distracted him, the whisper of, “now you are my patient,” barely heard before the figure disappeared once more, leaving him alone in the field where the mud stained him red instead and the bodies of people who were also siblings, or parents, or someone's beloved.

“An alliance?”

It was the first fact he was confronted with after the battle had ended, but the war hadn’t and as was common in turbulent times bonds were forged through fire and blood.

“Yes,” his brother had responded, a smile lingering on his lips as if the war had ended, though whether they had gotten closer or further from this goal was yet to be seen. Where Hashirama held hope, Tobirama was apprehensive, cautious where his brother could not be in his endless optimism and belief in humanity.

An alliance. On paper it sounded so easy; an association with mutual benefit. How beautifully idealistic that sounded. Tobirama knew the truth of the alliance, however. He knew that the parties weren’t equal to each other, as ideally expected. He knew that the other side had begrudgingly agreed to this because the Senju were victorious in battle. He knew that the true choice was a farce, or the total annihilation of their clan, for the next battle would be their end, more gruesome than this in which they had already lost so many too easily.

It was a survival method, and somewhere Tobirama wondered if there was any regret in saving him, for his survival had been part of the reason why the ‘alliance’ was a fact, for he was half the fear and part of the strength that put the Senju above the rest. A thought that kept nagging at him when the clans came together, the familiar colours and the accompanying symbol filling his vision, this time alive and upright with flickers of memories of that empty gaze that had once filled with hate, followed by that glare when that shock of chakra saved his life that was the reason theirs was lost.

Somewhere, amongst the crowd, that familiar flicker of chakra could be sensed. Too intimately known now to be ignored, and he knew that he had been recognised just the same, too unfamiliar to the rest of the members, uniquely Senju.

“So we meet again,” he had said, trying to be cool in his approach. It was to be expected from him as a Senju, and neither did he want to disrespect their new allies by seeming too overtly warm. He wasn’t the man his brother was, but neither so full of hostility that he couldn’t overcome a past conflict in what was a daily occurrence within their world.

“Dying becomes increasingly harder,” came the even cooler response. It earned the sliver of a smile from Tobirama, whose head bowed in reverence. He knew then that there was no regret, even if it mystified him on the reason why.

The question “why,” came much later, when he felt a little more comfortable being amicable and to discuss morals and beliefs. By then there was a suspicion. Observation had made it easier for him to formulate a why based on what he had seen and what he had experienced so far, but true to his conduct the man was never satisfied with a mere assumption. The hypothesis had to be tested and so he presented the question, ready for whatever adjustments he had to make to the answers in his mind.

“Because,” the answer started matter-of-factly, as if it was no mere answer but an established fact of the world, “no one wants to die.” The answer is so simply given, Tobirama frowns at it even, wondering if there is nothing profound behind it, why there isn’t more coming, but the giver seems content and he is unable to pull out more.

“That’s all?” he manages to get past his lips, the dissatisfaction clear in his voice as a shrug is given and clear eyes stare into his, the genuineness of the simple answer amplified as gazes struck.

“That is all.”

It is an answer that bothers him for a while. Used to pandering for so many reasons and justifications until there is a solid wall, not to a single rope on which it all hangs. It made sense, in a way. It didn’t have to be complicated, he knew that. The people who fought on the field were all children, parents, partners, or siblings. They were all someone with a name like he did. Yet, it seemed to pale so in contrast to their greater goal, or supposed greater goal of peace. For in the end, it did seem rather counter productive to fight so much when the aim was to stop.

Tobirama still felt no satisfaction in that reasoning, his mood growing worse as he pondered it over. His mind flitting over more, his eyes zoned in on a particular figure, his thoughts going into one certain direction and person until it was too late and he realised how deep he had gotten.

“Tell,” Hashirama had encouraged him, that knowing smile following that Tobirama admired his brother for but also hated at the same time, for when it was directed at him it made him feel small, it made him feel helpless and Tobirama Senju was anything but helpless.

“Tell you what? There is nothing you need to know,” he had grunted, and internally he winced at how much like a boy he sounded right there as his brother’s smile grew wider, as if having trapped the man who prided himself so much in trapping others with his cunning.

“Not me, I know already!” The man had the nerve to exclaim, and Tobirama would have throttled his brother if he wasn’t aware that it would be a losing fight against Hashirama, for the man never held back even when it was a sparring session, “tell the one you have been eyeing,” he finished boldly, ignoring the fire that the younger Senju was so near to spitting even if it went against his nature.

As all knowing as his brother liked to act Hashirama failed to warn Tobirama of the cruelty of time. Always too fast, unpromptedly too soon. Never enough and slipping past and there he was, the scene reversed from the first meeting. He came in, blood at his hands, but it wasn’t his. It wasn’t his and neither was the field his. He had come to scout and there he found what he thought was perhaps the one scene he had never thought of.

“Why didn’t you help yourself?” he asks, but the smile he is given tells him all. The strength was gone and the wound too deep, “no one wants to die,” he gives the simple reason he was given. The one that had him in agony for its simplicity that now meant the world. They held all of the hope and all of his prayers as a shaking breath brushed past his chin.

It was a coward’s move, to attack a medical-nin in action, but there were no laws that applied in battle and none who had to respect life, or the lives of those who preserved it. Tobirama knew and he begrudged the simplicity of this fact and the simplicity of the reason behind.

“And I don’t.” The answer is returned, a weak whisper that contrasts against the fading life in his arms, “I want to live,” a choke, and tears that follow. There was nothing he could do to help, no matter the amount of chakra poured. Tobirama knew that, but tried nonetheless, his expression turning into a painful grimace uncharacteristic for him on the battlefield, but the battle was over and now it was just a field with empty eyes and lost identities where he shared the breath with one.

“And you will, you will,” he promises, over and over, even if he doesn’t quite believe it himself. Even if he has a hard time believing so himself.

It is little wonder and Tobirama thanks himself for being so fast, for being like the flash, for it was all that had helped. The mere matter of seconds within the time that had preserved a life, even if barely, even when it was thinner than the thread of reason he had been given as a reason.

“Survive,” Tobirama whispered, as if giving out a command before turning his back, knowing that something else he could do instead of waiting for a wish to be fulfilled.

“A pact?” the question rises, and Tobirama holds himself firm, knowing that he would have to stand strong to push this through, “it is nice in theory to protect medical-nin, but is it executable?,” the expected counter came. One worry that was doubtless to come and unavoidable, for even medics were trained to kill, and to fight.

“Those that wish for protection under this pact must make a vow,” Tobirama explains, unfolding the next part of the plan he had in mind to protect a reason hanging on no more firmly than by a thread, but which was strong enough to carry a conviction allowing him to stand here today, “those that attack first break the vow, and break away from the pact protecting them,” he continues to reason, and continues to argue the idea he has set forth to realise, the opposition great, the idea met as outlandish, but ultimately supported by those who matter the most.

“For me?” the question rings, and Tobirama is only all too relieved that his own fears didn’t turn into reality as he responds with a nod and a deep exhale of his breath.

A simple symbol of a cross, stitched on a vest, visible for all and obvious from far, yet leaving room to proudly symbolise the clan itself. The results of his labour, a simple system born to preserve a thought that had nearly broken his mind for its rawness. Still honouring the damned pride one held for their roots, yet allowing all who they had allied themselves with an additional promise to honour in battle. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

“Yes, for you,” he replies, no longer avoiding to express himself like his brother had encouraged, and in the back of his mind he still sees that knowing smile he hopes to wipe off Hashirama’s face one day.

“Do you know where you are?” a familiar voice questions him, the room is white and Tobirama isn’t sure how much time has passed. The glaring light is just a tad too bright, too low for it to be twilight, too white for it to be natural. The last memories of a battle drift upwards, before it is all swallowed by a big dark black hole before he realises that the noise surrounding him, the bleeping and the beeping, are in no way the screams and the groans he is used to mixed in with the stifling despair and killer instinct to the boot.

“Konoha?” he asks, when he finally pushes himself up, wondering if he somehow had found himself in heaven, if he had died. He didn’t recall ever saying goodbye to his previous life, or wherever he had come from to end up here that was so unlike his place.

A set of familiar eyes, kinder than the first time he had met them when he was injured. On the jacket he recognised the name, the face all the same, but the hair cut in a different way, a way uncommon for any clan he knew, or region even. Familiar, yet unfamiliar, intimate yet a stranger far away. Tobirama wasn’t sure what to make of it as a smile was sent into his direction.

“Almost, but not quite,” he was told before his name was asked and he responded, earning a frown, a deep look of thought he recognised from exchanges from before that now only seemed to be a distant memory in this strange bed in which he found himself.

“Tobirama Senju, huh? A deity amongst us,” the jest was made, confusing the man even more before a laugh tittered within his ears, a laugh that told him that the hardships he had known, the death and decay and the feel of mud staining red were a thing of the past, before the smile grew wider, as if there was nothing to hide and conceal, as if caution wasn’t a default.

“When you feel up to, check the hospital gallery, you will see,” he was informed, an encouragement to quicken his healing process.

There on the wall a mention was made of the pact he had created, now an accomplishment of the past and the first step of something greater.

“Pretty amazing for your namesake, huh?” The casual way in which Tobirama was addressed, the realisation that time had changed in such a way that rigid structures of ranks and fame or infamy didn’t matter much in how one was approached and spoken to, startled the man still, yet welcomed all the same. It helped him distinguish between his own time and that of now, or what was to him the future.

It amused him that the realisation hadn’t sunk in that he was the same man prided on the wall. Though he couldn’t fault it for happening either. He wouldn’t have believed it himself either if it hadn’t happened to him.

“What was his motivation, I wonder,” he muses, the answer already known, but he wonders if the answer is still known, or if it was ever known at all. Had he been expressive enough? Had he communicated it enough?

The answer came soon, coming from the face and voice that had started it all;

“Must have been love.”

#tobirama #tobirama senju #naruto #naruto tobirama

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bylightofdawn · 11 months

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WIP Sunday

I almost missed WIP Sunday two weeks in a row, that's not going to do. Today has been a really bad pain day. It's been raining most of the day and that's really caused my joint pain to flare up pretty bad and on top of it I slept weirdly and messed up my neck and have had a headache pretty much all day long.

So I haven't accomplished much of anything but been a useless lump all day long. So I cannot speak for the quality of this snippet.

Uhhh for context, this is from the post-desertion Cody fic I've been writing this week. He's been on a run for over a month, his blaster wound he got on the Desix campaign has become infected and is now dealing with it turning septic. But when you're a wanted, unhoused and undocumented clone living in a homeless camp, your options are pretty limited.

It's pretty much endless Cody whump. Super rough, and definitely needs to be cleaned up and edited etc. And with this I am going to put my poor laptop away and collapse. I got my new ram and cooling fan but just have not felt well enough to even attempt to operate on it so that might be a project for tomorrow after work or maybe next Wednesday which is my next day off.

I'm calling it an early night because I really feel like rubbish.

Within a few days, the wound had begun to show signs of infection. It was tender at first, and then the skin around it grew red and warm to the touch. He’d seen enough infected battlefield wounds to know how dangerous they could get if untreated.

His options were pretty limited. Some back-alley ‘medics’ were willing to trade with those undocumented transients such as Cody though he tried to avoid drawing any attention to himself if he could manage. It was hard when your face was one of the most infamous and recognizable in the galaxy.

Of course, in these trying times, many clones were apparently deserting just like Cody had, so he’d heard rumors of other brothers passing through the city's seedy underbelly.

He’d also heard rumors of certain gangs turning them in for the bounty the Empire offered for rogue clones, which is why he made sure to keep his head down and not draw too much attention to himself.

Unfortunately, the infection finally got to such a state that he knew he would have to seek medical treatment because the wound was now an angry red with equally angry lines tracing out from it. Which he knew was a tell-tale sign of septicemia, as though the body aches and fever he was battling wasn’t enough to tell him he had one hell of an infection.

Following the suggestion of the ancient Bothan who slept nearby, he forced his aching body into action as he sought out the particular shady-looking Dug with a booth filled with seemingly meaningless junk. He eyed Cody with mean, jaded eyes, expecting he might try and nick some of his wares.

“What do you want, clone?”

“I’m looking for some antibiotics or bacta for an infection.” Cody knew better than to potentially point out his weak, exploitable injury. It was a little alarming that after a month of no shaving and sporting a no doubt slightly ragged beard and the weathered cap he wore that he was still so instantly recognizable as a clone, but that was the least of his worries at this point.

The Dug’s flat, unfriendly gaze didn’t waver as he maneuvered himself behind his cramped and cluttered space. “No antibiotics, and bacta is hard to come by down here.”

Cody offered his own flat stare now. “I guess I can try somewhere else then.”

“Heh, good luck. No one has the stock I have. And something tells me you’re not up for walking from here to next ten levels up to the next market” The Dug scoffed with a sneer and neatly pulled a battered box containing a tube of bacta gel.

“Fifty credits.”

“Fifty?! That thing goes for maybe fifteen on the surface brand new.” That was the price of medical grade bacta and was a full one-quarter of his entire amount of carefully garnered pool of credits.

“Unless you want to go to the surface and deal with dodging all those Corrie Guard. Maybe I should comm them now, report I found one of their wayward meat droids all the way down here, huh?” The Dug sneered at him with a calculating look in his eyes. “Maybe they’ll take you to a hospital before they execute you?”

He laughed nastily and waved the box containing the bacta in Cody’s direction in a lazy manner. “Unless you have something worth trading, huh?” Then, those avarice-filled eyes fell upon the blaster secured at Cody’s side and the clone commander automatically covered it with his hand.

Somehow, he hadn’t had it stolen off of his person, and it was his sole and best source of defense against the predators that roamed the tenement camp. If he lost that, he lost all hope of fending off the bottom-feeders that picked on the weakest and easiest targets amongst the unhoused sentients that made up their ramshackle temporary community.

It was tantamount to a death sentence at this point.

Cody dug into the various pockets he’d sewn into his clothing and pulled out the precious credits needed to pay for the bacta.

“If it doesn’t work, I’m coming back here and shooting you.” He threatened flatly.

“I doubt you’ll be in any condition to do anything if it doesn’t worry, save your empty threats, clone.” The Dug gave another grating-sounding laugh as it handed over the bacta and secreted Cody’s hard-earned credits away. “Now go, before I decide the puny bounty on your head is worth the effort.”

#el writes #wip sunday #fanfic snippet #cc-2224 #commander cody #star wars fanfic

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somdotrovao · 2 years

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The Calling

“ I... I'm a new day rising I'm a brand new sky To hang the stars upon tonight I am a little divided Do I stay or run away And leave it all behind? It's times like these you learn to live again It's times like these you give and give again It's times like these you learn to love again It's times like these time and time again ” - Foo Fighters - Times Like These After a long silence, Joffrey finally said; “…in their detriment, they’ve tried,” trying to light air. Eivor start a laugh but the sound died in the air very quickly. Annika made a face to him while painfully mending a sourful wound that cut across her left ear, cheek, neck, and upper chest... I. Frode Frode was fairly awake when he heard the first howl; the grotesque baritone cut into the night warning, waking, putting all Garou on their guard. Frode’s pelt tingled so hard that he felt frozen in place for a second, and he felt rage, but the Guardian howl was clear and Frode knew what it meant. The sound of something clashing took him back to the present, followed by a human scream of horror and pain. ‘Someone just died’, he thought to himself. In his sorrowed and merciful heart of lately, he questioned himself if wasn’t him that deserved to die, and with that thought, he froze again in place feeling helpless and enraged. Another scream. Someone was fighting, he could smell the blood in the air, he could hear the bone-breaking sound of monstrous blows against something… or someone, he could sense the tense electricity flowing, the kind of energy he used to feel excited about, the energy of the battlefield, the feedstock of tales… the thing he missed most of all… still he could not move, and he felt rage. Then, he recognized the presence of Ingemund pushing through his mind. She screams something he doesn’t understand. The link to his pack mates became unbearable; voices, sounds, feelings, commands… Ingemund screams again, in a higher pit, so high the link went mute instantly and he understood the flow of red fury his brothers were in. He felt Eivor cry silently while being bashed on the floor by an enormous stone club. He felt when sadness and disappointment took Joffrey’s heart when he pierced another Garou with his claws to the point of seeing the life vanish from his eyes. He felt Dash hopeless and despairing into the night looking for something he could not find. He felt Karen… he could… see it, more than feeling it, he could see her, cornered between two very hideous night spirits and a scary theurge fighting for her life… and he felt rage. And he sensed deep in his heart that he was the one that deserved to be cornered in her place. And he felt such a rage he couldn’t move. Something crab Frode by the shoulders and lift him easily. Claw as sharp as knifes cut his fresh merciless. In the dark, he could not see his aggressor and the sneak adversary found a refugee in the shadows after the first attack. The second attack was claws and teeth, now to the knees and legs, so quick he spiraled dizzy. Frode felt his body collapse under the weight of his muscles. A third and the fourth wave of attacks, his body protected himself turning into its crinos form but it was too late, he was bleeding uncontrollably. A long and lasting terrible howl caught Frode hemorrhaging on the floor, to the sound his wound hurt even more and he stood there making peace with that feeling. Feeling rage and desiring death. In the corner of his eye, he saw when the Crow flew over, near him, and flapped his wings in disregard to whatever else, standing in front of him. In his mind the time relaxed and when the Crow finally spoke much time had passed. “Why, Frode? Why?” “…I, I... cannot move.” “Why, Frode? Why?” “Is better if I’m dead. I’m paralyzed by my rage…” “Is you... Frode?” Lighting shattered Frode’s mind. He saw himself as a kid, sitting in a meadow laughing. One of his arms holding Astrid by the shoulder in a carefree stance of friendship and thoughtfulness. Running up the hill Ingemund and SIf were being chased by a very big grey wolf faking an aggressive pursuit. Ingemund didn’t look like playing, she had a fierce and competitive expression on her face, while Sif looked more like a damsel in distress with her mice screams looking for a savior. He felt warm under the sun and he felt good about himself. Most of all, he felt free. He felt he was as strong and fearless as Ingemund. He felt he was kind and gentle as Astrid, and he knew he was part of something good in the world. But then he felt he was afraid too… Afraid… Afraid was Sif was of the world. Afraid as she was to the point she turn bitter and sad. Afraid to the point lie was her armor and envy covered every inch of her… Afraid until she could not see herself anymore as part of something more than herself… “…I’m not in rage… I’m in… fear.” Frode realize and tears rolled from his face. There was mud and blood in his mouth and he knew the next attack of his plunder would kill him. “And what we do with our fear, Frode?” asked the Crow. The earth shuddered for a moment as to help him stand and when he saw himself he was standing by his feet in a powerful defensive stance. The blow of his enemy was easily blocked and he could see the surprise in his eyes when he was caught; a predator that found its prey not dead as he thought it was. It was too late for him. Frode’s teeth ripped across his throat not in violence, but with precision and the calmness of a superior predator. As the body of his enemy fell to the floor he look inside of him for his tools, the piece of him connected to Gaia and to his brothers and sisters and he again felt them suffering, enraged, in pain, and also afraid. Howl and scream covered the night veil in a terrible song of battle and Frode felt sad for his peers, and he felt compassion too. Then he blew his horn. As the Crow flew away cracking, something happened inside of him, his light burned brighter than before and he heartened them all; he could feel Dash’s heart being touched and he felt as if the sound of the horn found him in the middle of the forest lost as it shone over him as the sun touched life in the mornings after the dark nights, renewing Impeto’s courage and resolution. He felt when Ingemund stood tall above all else, feeling the greatness of her being, and became unstoppable to the despair of her adversaries. He felt Karen’s skin, an armor so strong, so powerful that nothing would ever hurt her again! He was there, as its vibration lifted Annika’s spirit so high that the thunder and the storm that served her paled under the sound of the horn and she turn into an elemental goddess commanding nature and terrifying her enemies. He saw them all, Muninn, Joffrey, Eivor. he touched them all, greeted their spirits, and made them whole in the darkest of the night. He protected them from doubt and he told them that all was well as he removed fear from their hearts. And as he did that, he understood.

II. Karen She fought for her life and won. Sometimes was easy to forget she was a warrior too; one of the good ones. And she relapses very often to remember that. As a philodox of the Crow, years ago, she start to build a powerful mind and a quick tongue rather than a strong body, and maybe because of that… when Frode slashed her breasts, she didn’t resent much the loss of the features he took from her, although he hurt her deep; it was another kind of bruised he left on her. She was still processing that, ‘Another day’, she said to herself when she need to feel practical and strong. Maybe also because of that; being strong and practical, she didn’t mind facing a dragon, a god… the Wyrm itself, to expose herself and to antagonize her fouls head held high, smiling. This night, again, she fought. Her first adversary was a small grey wolf caught by surprise; he was circling around her husband's barn, scaring the sheep. She learn too quick it was a cub, halfway into claw and teeth and the poor wolf collapsed in the frozen field and stayed there. The next one was harder. A one-eyed Theurge, black as night followed by two horrid spirits; for a few minutes she thought it was it, the end, but she managed. She stirred, she refused to kneel to death, and facing pain and fear she found a way… and she won. She learned about the destiny of her pack mates through their link and felt at ease, they were fighting too, she smiled satisfied, so the next best thing to her was to learn the meaning of that, her logical mind worked that out while cleaning theurge fresh from her claws. It was clear that that harsh long winter was to be blamed, she reflected, it took too long to happen in her opinion. The Dragoness was a powerful Caern and many knew its reputation, but not as powerful as it used to be, especially recently. It wasn’t exactly a surprise the fact they were being raided, the little taints of weakness could be smelled miles away those days. She also considered that Rivers-of-Blood's posture and presence were challenging to others seeking glory and conflict, inviting other Garou or even other Fenris to violence, enticing war. With that in mind she searched, making logical assumptions, crossing allies in life-or-death fights, rushing over corpses of parents, unbothered by the carnage, fixed on her goal, smelling the air, looking for clues and signs, asking herself what she would be doing if she was the one trying to take over those villagers… and then she found it. It was also a female Garou, ‘of course it was a woman,’ she smiled while realizing that, she was atop a small hill near the place the earth turns into sand leading to the beach and by the sea. She looked in charge, old, seasoned, and thin, a bit sad too, Karen noticed while approaching. Three other Garou were flanking her; a small red wolf that looked female also, a huge grey bearded crinos, so huge Karen thought even Joffrey would look childish in comparison to him, and finally, sitting by her feet, a young man with long black hair and legs crossed holding a beautiful warclave. As soon she was spotted the small red wolf tagged her and start to move in her direction to meet her halfway ways, she could smell old blood on her, they must have raided other villages along the way here, Karen realizes immediately. “I’m Bright-Amber, The one that shatters the veil. The scourge of spirits, the crescent moon of the Fianna, born into the lupines.”, please give me de pleasure to know who comes there.” “Karen Rolfdóttir, Ruthless-Justice. The Incandescent. Scourge of the Dragon. Friend of the Faeries. Half Moon of the Hand of Tyr. Born into the hominid.” Bright-Amber seemed not impressed. “What do you want, Karin, of the Fenris?” “I want to talk to her,” Karen said pointing her nose to the woman she know was the one in charge there. Bright-Amber looked in the direction she was pointing as if she didn’t know what she was going to see. “Oooh,” Bright-Amber said with a dramatic expression, “you meant Fire-Song, that old crone right there… I see.” She looked at Karen as if she were trying to decide if she would or wouldn’t let her past, but after a while, she just shooked her head with a disapproving look, and give passage to the Fenris philodox with no more words. Fire-Song looked old and tired. Slender as if she hadn’t had something to eat in a long time. Her eyes were deep in her skull and her mane was dirt and tangled. She looked at Karen with a serious look and didn’t move. “Karen, of the Fenris… right? the only reason preventing me from shattering your face in two is to honor your courage, or stupidity, which I will know soon, to come alone to see me. What do I owe you for this display of boldness?” Karen knew she meant those worlds. The big crinos behind her move in place but besides that nothing happened. She could smell Bright-Amber behind her against the wind and she could few she might just have bitten more than she could chew, still, she found inside of her a calmer voice to replay gently. “By now, Fire-Song, I suppose you know, you seemed to know actually… you’ve lost. I came to reason you to retreat and save the ones that are still in one piece, there’s no glory or use to keep this up.” “What makes you think that I have the power to call it to an end, philodox of the Fenris?” “I know.” – Karen replayed trying not to sound cocky. “…there should be consequences to us all now, both wretched and severed. Us both, killed and died, but in a few minutes, you will be decimated. I’ve founded you. It's just a matter of time before the ones that don’t like to talk are here…” “…We didn’t have any other option… you know?” Fire-Song said, not apologizing, not even talking back to Karen. It was more like she was talking to herself, lost in thoughts. “I don’t believe in that, Fire-Song. I believe we always have other paths to walk if we look, they might be harder options than the ones we chose, but there are others ways. And I pity you… to know this one was the easier option you had… May Gaia protect us all.” Fire-Song faced Karen for a few moments as to remember her face. Not with hatred or fury, but with a sadness that made Karen almost cry. Then finally she waved her hand and the big wolf behind her started to howl, a calling, a sad song about defeat. Bright-Amber, Karen could see, started to cast a long spell she knew was the way they would leave, with the chant, Karen could see the ships that were hidden from her eyes at the beach. Those were no ordinary ships, Karen knew. “You better run back. I will not be able to protect you from the ones coming back from your village, Karen of the Fenris.” Karen understood the message and start to walk backward still facing Fire-Song. “I hope I see you again,” she said with honesty in her words and heart. “I hope I see you again in a better world, Fire-Song.” “I wished we could’ve made a better world of this one Karen, of the Fenris.” she said as Karen turn into his almost dog-form lupine and start to run back. From the other top of the hill, Karen saw the remaining wolfs dashing to the beach, a fog dense and whiter than she ever saw engulfed them all, protecting them from their enemies. She also saw Rivers-of-Blood cursing and howling maniacally as his pack mates tried to enter de fog with no success. She smiled. To be continued...

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ventisehe · 3 years

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crying on their wedding day, or not / genshin impact / part two

this is the second part of crying on their wedding day. i didn’t add dainsleif and baizhu because i don’t have enough creative juice to squeeze them in.

requested by: @bakuhoe-is-my-bakubro

includes: venti, kaeya, xingqiu, scaramouche, razor, albedo, chongyun, xiao, kazuha

warning: unedited, not proofread, different variation of not seeing the bride before the wedding ceremony, written before kazuha was released

part one

THOSE WHO WILL NOT CRY

VENTI

Although his wings that have soared through the vast open azure skies was as ancient as the winds that swept ever so delicately through the lands that made up Teyvat, although his curious viridescent hues have become quiet witnesses to numbers of renowned and untold tales of mortals across nations, no matter the countless years he devoted trying to cognize the mortals and their atypical behaviors, Barbatos – or Venti, as he refers to himself now – can never truly understand how so many human beings can stay in one place with one person.

Before he had even come to be the Anemo Archon, all that Venti knew was how to heed the call of the wind. To him, it was confounding how mortals do not have the similar urgency as he to follow the winds. Even when he had taken the form of his dearest friend, Himmel, and has elapsed through myriad of seasons and centuries, still he soared gently in the air, lyre in his possession as he sung melodies of his own composition and strummed symphonies for those who yearn to hear his voice, and with his braids billowing in his travel to a destination even he cannot tell yet.

One has made an attempt - and unfortunately, a fruitless one - to make sense to him why some has gone against the heed of the wind, a very peculiar decision in the eyes of someone like him. His form nothing but a mere wisp at that time, nothing but a small creature with little understanding, and he remembered he was seated on the shoulder of his companion as they perched by the edge of a mountain, legs dangling and kicking gently back and forth. They basked in the caress of the wilting warmth as the sun bid its farewell.

Himmel was humming a tune with the corners of his mouth curving up and his eyes closed, and Venti's small frame thrummed with delight at the euphony he made.

And in the serene quiet, his dear friend spoke, "Someday, you'll find yourself wanting to stay somewhere. For something, or for someone. You don't understand now, but when you come to love one thing, you'll always want to be close to their side." Himmel turned to him, a subdued smile etched across his features, and upon catching sight of the sincerity and fervor Himmel in his bright eyes, Venti cannot help but mirror his sentiments and reciprocate his smile the best he can with the body he manifested in.

"When that day comes, you'll understand why many choose to . . . stay." Venti tilted his head to the side, and Himmel let out a small chuckle once he catches on the puzzlement that he displayed in his actions. "Don't look at me like that. I know you're curious about the whole marriage thing. Who knows, maybe someday you'll find yourself a nice fellow wisp and - "

All it took for Himmel to cut his statement short and burst out in laughter was how Venti prodded against his neck as a feeble attempt to make him quiet down.

And as Himmel has predicted, Venti - in time - did understood.

Venti was able to perceive the reasonings of mortals to turn their heads away from the beckon of the wind, to live a peaceful and quaint life, some alone, and some with their spouses. Himmel had done his absolute best to explain to him the wanders which are humans, and gleefully watched as Venti attentively listened to every word he spoke.

However, at the end of the day, Venti was still a free spirit. He can never be tied down to one place, much more to another living being. He will always find himself favoring the whisper of the winds in Teyvat, adrift and letting himself go adrift.

It was after he had witnessed the life in Himmel's eyes leave, heard his last breath, the whisper of the triumph of Mondstadt in achieving freedom, and his final request as he stroked Venti's quivering figure - A sad smile has been painted upon Himmel's brims as he gazed at the smaller entity weeping under his touch, "I ask only for one last favor from you, my dearest friend. Look after Mondstadt, after our people, for me, and never let everything we've sacrificed go for naught."

Venti was still a free spirit, but with what happened to Himmel, he longed to understand how he saw the world. It seemed he understood it differently than he did. And thus, he took the form of his beloved friend, and ventured closer than he had before to mortals.

The day he found a place in The Seven, the fateful he became the Anemo Archon, Venti has not once missed an event with his people. He celebrated with them in festivities, cried with them in their sorrows, aided them in battles against transgressors or wars within their own mind. He laughed with them, ate with them, drank with them, and his love for his people grew everyday.

But still, he can never stay for too long.

Venti tried to, he really did, for his friends, as his last gift before he lets go of the pain of losing him. But cannot force himself to remain in one place if his heart kept searching for places to explore, people to meet, discover the secrets of Teyvat.

Hopelessness was beginning to gnaw inside him as hundred of years has passed, and he has already traveled through long distances and saw generation after generation of his people in Mondstadt, and yet nothing he has yet to fulfill his own promise to hos friend.

Perhaps this was the way it was supposed to be. Maybe only mortals are giving the ability to be content and stay, but the Anemo Archon was forever to be appearing and disappearing - always, always stringing along with the wind.

And Venti believed that thought of his, and it stuck to him throughout many more years in Teyvat.

Not even a dust of faith was left in the ruins of what he now thought of as a vanquished promise, marring Venti with a wound in his heart, and a doubt in his standing as an Archon. However, it was through this belief that took him by surprise when he met a rather strange woman at the last day of the Windblume Festival, and in Stormterror’s Lair, no less.

The Honorary Knight, and their odd traveling companion have long been gone after they bid him farewell and a safe travel in his return to his abode – or whatever dwelling was the closest he could denote as home – leaving Venti by himself to reminisce in the ruins of where Old Mondstadt once stood.

The heavens were a color of black dotted with stars and the moon. The wind has grown softer, as though to accompany him in this lonesome hour, leaving chaste kisses against his pallid skin. From afar, the City of Mondstadt remains lit with lanterns and plethora of flowers. Even in this distance, he can oversee the joy that exuded from the people as they celebrated the remaining hours of the festival and take in the fragrance of the flowers friends and partners exchanged with one another. It was a beautiful sight to behold if one sits in such a desolate and dark place, in the very tower that he had confronted Stormterror – no, it was Dvalin now, Stormterror has perished along with the danger of the past.

But a presence – curious, sorrowful – has intervened in the quiet evening Venti thought he had saved for himself. He stood up from the platform where he has previously perched upon and took off to take a gander in the Lair, and it did not take a moment longer for him to spot a figure nearby. There, standing on top of a boulder clad in a crestfallen expression was a lone woman. She was casting her gaze around Old Mondstadt, and the breeze blew her tears away,

Venti had never seen her before. He had met every family, every person, in Old Mondstadt, and the same was to be said to the generation that followed after them. He knew them well, recalled their quirks and appearances, and this woman has no resemblance to any of them. Has she come from another nation?

Venti made it his point to glide down and noiselessly land behind her, but it seems his efforts have failed him for this stranger spoke the second his feet made contact with the ground.

"I wonder how this place used to be." You stated, and Venti was unsure whether you have felt his presence or you were speaking to yourself.

“So, this is Old Mondstadt.” She stated in a murmur. Her voice was laced with awe, but with evidence of forlornity. “I heard rumors about what happened here, and-and the thing with Stormterror too. Archon, I wish someone would tell me the real story of the City of Freedom. Back in my home, we’re not even allowed to learn much about the Archons of other nations. It’d be foolish to just trust rumors.”

There was something about her that piqued his interest. He did not know what it was. Maybe it was the way she talked about Mondstadt, her interest in the history of his city and his people, the sincere sorrow she felt for what the fallen tyrant of Mondstadt had had done to his former subjects, and how he had forced their hands to rebellion to protect their nation.

Venti spoke before he can stop to think. “If you’d like, I can retell the story of how Old Mondstadt came to be. I’m well versed in the history of this city, so rest assured everything you’ll hear is the truth.” He carved a smile to his lips. “And I am a Bard, so you have no need to worry about me chatting your ear off. All it takes is an audience and my lyre to get me started. Of course, a private performance will cost you, but since you’re new in the city, I suppose I can – ”

His breath was taken away when the stranger turned to face him, and his words withered from his tongue. Ever seen a speechless bard? It was a sight people will scarcely see.

Could he ever compose a song to even come close to the lovely view that was before his eyes? Gleaming curious pair of eyes, a smile so eager to listen, hair flitting with the wind as his heartbeat raced –

Venti was used to captivating his audience with his songs and stories. However, this time, it was he who was captivated, and when he took out his lyre and played a sweet tune to sing the story of his beloved city, with this gorgeous woman listening to him with bright and shining eyes, Venti knew then that he wanted to play for her every song he knew, every story he saw and heard, to the end of time.

You told him your name after his song, and you came all the way from the isolated nation of Inazuma. It took him by surprise how you have confidence in him to reveal to him your identity and place of birth. Surely, not everyone will trust a stranger who has appeared out of nowhere who offered to sing them a song. But then again, Venti trusted you as quickly as you trusted him, and now it was his turn to listen as you confide in him.

You have escaped from your home nation and survived out in the seas under the heat of the sun and threat of starvation for days until a compassionate Captain from Liyue, and her crew found you and delivered you to safety. And it was after your recovery that you fled to Mondstadt, the opposite of the nation you were born in.

Venti found himself sitting down in front of you as you told him your story, sight never leaving your frame as he did so. You were no Bard, and you were no storyteller, but he cannot tell the time or noticed the sun has set as you regaled him with story of Inazuma and your life after and before your escape. He was enchanted with the way you spoke, how you looked about Old Mondstadt with saddened awe, the fervidness in your voice – Have I found myself a rival? Thought Venti, eyes softening as you went on about your admiration for the affability and generosity his people have shown you.

When you left that day, you promised to come back and when you do, you shall ask him to sing to you more of his songs. At first, Venti was hesitant to believe your promise, but to his relief and happiness, when he saw you in the same place in the ruins undoubtedly waiting for him with your eyes closed and relishing in the wind that rushed past you. Venti always came to Stormterror’s Lair to oversee what remained of his old home, but for once, his sights were held torn and you have all his attention.

Seeing you keep your promise of return made his day, but when you whipped your head to face him with a smile, waving a hand as you asked him to sit with you, Venti knew that his heart desired yours. Was it a wise decision to fall for someone you've only just met? Certainly not, but he was an Archon who had too much time but too little for those who he holds dear. He cannot afford to be unsure when his time with you was limited.

So, he decided – when the day is right and the wind is quiet, he shall make his feelings for you known.

It became a routine for the two of you to meet in Stormterror’s Lair and share your stories with one another, Venti always telling his in songs, as a Bard would. There was never a dull moment between the two of you, and every story told in the ruins were to be fascinated of. And soon, it wasn't just stories. Soon, he was finding out more about you, knowing you better until he couldn't get you out of his head.

It became a routine for the two of you to meet in Stormterror’s Lair and share your stories with one another. Venti always told his in the form of songs, as a Bard would, you will always applaud him after, to which he would respond with a melodramatic bow. There was never a dull moment between the two of you, and every story spoke in the ruins and the silence of the night was to be fascinated of. He was learning more about you, knowing you better, until he couldn’t get you out of his mind when his head falls against his pillow.

Venti cherished these times he had with you. He knew it won't be long until you were gone. He knew his fate as an Archon – seeing loved ones perish and more to come, and the cycle continued.

He hasn't even told you about his identity.

Venti was grateful for the Traveler for pushing him to tell you about his feelings and his standing in Teyvat, but he was still uncertain. What would you say if he confessed to you? What will you say if he admits to being the Anemo Archon? Will things change between the two of you? Will you leave? Venti can’t think about that.

Venti grew worried when you didn’t come to Stormterror’s Lair one day, and then another, and his concern grew as days turned to weeks. Everyday he found himself visiting Stormterror’s Lair in hopes of seeing you waiting for him again, but he was always left disappointed. You did not mention going on an adventure or a commission, so his worry was warranted. Were you safe or were you simply sick of him?

When the day you finally appeared in the Lair, relief washed over Venti and he practically jumped off the broken tower he frequently resided and made haste towards you. But his footsteps faltered when he found no traces of a smile on your face. He can see the relief and joy, but the smile was absent. From that, Venti’s own beam wilted as he walked over to you with reluctant steps.

When he came close to you, he opened his mouth to ask how you have faired for the past weeks and question your abrupt disappearance when you said something that took him by surprise.

“I know who you are.”

It felt like his entire world has stopped for a moment as he stared at you with disbelief smearing his countenance. How ever did you discover the truth? Certainly, he had similarities with his statues, but none of his people nor visitors from outside ever pieced the puzzle together.

He averted his gaze, ashamed. Why was he wallowing in shame? Or perhaps was this regret of not telling you sooner? Did you feel betrayed? Will you cast him away?

“But how . . . ”

“The man at the Tavern told me, Master Diluc.” You answered. “I was telling him about you, and I guess he thought I already knew of you being the . . . Anemo Archon.”

“Is that why you were gone for weeks?” Venti questioned, and when you nodded in response, he winced. He can’t help but think of the worse – She’ll leave me.

Venti looked away. “Ah, I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, it is hard to believe someone like me is an Archon.” He laughed out, but the humor was nonexistent in his statement. “So, how do you feel about that?”

Venti let out a gasp when you threw yourself to him and enveloped him in a tight hug. Venti froze at your actions and waited for you to withdraw, but when you did not, he slowly accepted your embrace with gratefulness. He didn’t know what you do this, but he was more than happy to reciprocate your actions before he lets you go.

It won’t matter, anyway. He’ll hear the winds calling for him somewhere soon. Maybe letting you go now would hurt less in the long run.

“Are you not . . . angry?” Venti asked as he closed his eyes and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Oh Archons, no, Venti. I could never hate you.” You assured him in a whisper and from the brokenness on your voice, Venti knew you were crying. “Those times you told me about Barbatos . . . all the stories about his past . . . everything he had gone through . . . ” You murmured, tone lowering. “ . . . you must have been so hurt and lonely.”

He didn’t know why your words shot through him. He can feel tears streaming down his cheeks as memories of his past and the continuous pain of loss and regret caught up with him. Finally, after thousands of years, his false smile was shattered.

How pathetic. He thought. An Archon weeping in front of a mortal that he is in love with. Could things get any worse?

Your hand stroked his hair, comforting him as he cried against your shoulder and in your arms.

“I was . . . ” He breathed out, choking as he tightened his grip around you. “ . . . it never stops hurting . . . I keep seeing Himmel, and everyone, and – ”

He couldn’t finish what he was saying and just relished in the comfort of your arms, breathing in your scent.

“I don’t understand what you’ve been going through these thousands of years, and I never will, but it’s okay now, Venti.” You whispered in his ear, and he can detect the compassion and love lacing your voice. His heart hammered against his chest. “You have me. You don’t have to pretend everything is okay. I’m here for you. I want you to be Venti and Barbatos with me, I want all of you.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. Did he hear you correctly? You want him?

Venti gently retracted himself from you, but his arms remained at your sides. “You still want me, even after I kept this from you?”

“I want you, Venti.” You clasped your hands over his shoulders, firmly looking into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere anymore. I’m staying here, with you.”

And so, you stayed, and so did he – it was the first time he stayed, and he will never regret it.

One would think that as a renowned Bard in Mondstadt, Venti would push for a grand wedding where all people of Mondstadt are invited to wine and dine together as bards banded together to regale everyone with their music, and as the Archon who values freedom above everything else, a big part of him wanted to. But he thought of you and what you wanted. It took some time for him to deliberate over how selfish it would be for him to make you uncomfortable in your wedding day and agree a small wedding would be a much better option considering how sacred and intimate marriage is.

However, knowing you cannot simply have the Anemo Archon go against his belief, and of course because of your love for him, you have secretly devised a plan with Jean and Kaeya to invite all the citizens of Mondstadt to your reception to celebrate this joyous occasion for the two of you. There was more than enough food and drinks to feast, courtesy of Master Diluc, and you’re sure Venti will be over the moon with this surprise.

Venti had no family, and those he did consider as family were long gone, just a memory from the past. Even though it is unusual for a groom not to have a best man in his wedding day, Venti claimed he was fine without a best man. He had no doubts in marrying you. When he proposed to you, there was no touch of regret or doubt. Albeit reluctantly, you were in a mutual agreement in that matter, as well. Until, of course, an unexpected tribute arrived offering his services.

Venti was not the least nervous when the day of your wedding came. He did not waste time when he woke up and immediately got to work on his appearance. Jean was kind enough to have his wedding suit tailored for him, an early wedding gift, as she says.

Venti knew of the rule that a groom mustn’t see his bride in her wedding gown until the time she walks on the aisle. But he was just so thrilled for this day that he forgot all about it. And even if he did remember it, who in the world would stop him from seeing you? He has no best man to stop him anyway -

Venti almost choked to death when a hand came to grasp him by his the back of his collar, and he blubbered pathetically as he was thrown off balance and was dragged back to the altar.

“Who are - Master Diluc? What are you doing?”

Diluc let out a huff as he continued dragging Venti away from your house. “Stopping you from upsetting your bride. I’m sure you know that you shouldn’t see your bride in her gown before the wedding?”

“But Master Diluc, as much as I appreciate what you’re doing, you’re not in any position to - ”

“Actually, I am in a position where I’m allowed to stop you from making a mess of your wedding.” Said Diluc. “I’m your best man, after all.”

Venti couldn’t put to words how touched he was, and more so when you revealed to him after the wedding that Diluc has offered to be his best man by his own volition. As thanks, the next time Venti visited the tavern to drink, he paid for a single bottle of wine once. It wasn’t exactly ideal but considering how he had no original plan to pay Diluc for any of the drinks he will consume, this was as good as it gets.

When the doors opened to reveal you in your pretty white wedding dress, Venti swooned, and a large joyous smile stretched across his lips.

A gentle breeze swept in the altar and Venti felt his feet leave the ground briefly, floating in the air as he excitedly watched you walk down the aisle, and it took Diluc’s hand pulling him down by the back of his suit to stop him from floating up above the cathedral.

“My, my, if I knew any better, I would have thought the Archons have taken favor on me and blessed me with a beautiful bride.” Venti said once you join him in the altar and took your hands in his own. “You look beautiful, darling. I might just write another song about you.”

You shook your head, pink tinting your cheeks. “Haven’t you written enough songs about me?”

Venti inched his face close to you, his large smile altering to a soft smile. “There aren’t enough songs to tell you how much I adore you.”

The wedding went on, and when the two of you kissed, only one thing entered in Venti’s mind - I found my reason to stay, Himmel. I just hope you can see this.

The wind blew gently.

KAEYA

Kaeya did not know what to feel when his brother has made it clear once and for all that he wanted nothing to do with him. His dismissive remarks, his heated glares, his cold and aloof treatment – he had known Diluc for so long, and his memories with him in their childhood never grew old in his mind, so it pained him to have his once bright-eyed sibling who aspired to be part of the Knight acting as though they were strangers. No, strangers would have been merciful. He acted as if the bond they had never meant anything to him, and casting him aside and seeing him under the light of contempt was the easiest decision he has ever made.

Even you were not spared from the same fate. The three of you become inseparable the day you and Kaeya were introduced to each other. You’ve done everything together, and it would be a strange sight to see one missing from the group.

When Diluc has cut ties with Kaeya, you suffered the same fate as he. You poor, poor thing – you tried your best to patch the friendship he no longer wanted to be part of, and Kaeya did not waste time running to your side and picking up the pieces Diluc shattered. It was not an easy feat for both of you to lose Diluc – he lost a brother, and you lost a good friend.

But it was because of your fall out with him that you and he become closer than ever, closer than before, if that could even be possible. The two of you support one another and you go to each other when things get difficult.

Kaeya will never admit it, and he would rather die than do, but he has loved you for many years. The moment Diluc pulled him into an unknown house, claiming that he wanted to meet someone important to him, and his eyes landed on your form with the sunrays kissing your skin, a wide smile stretching across your face, and a fake sword in your hand, his heart was taken.

You were one of the reasons he wanted to become a Knight. Diluc admitted his want to become a Knight, and you expressed the same sentiment, and of course, hearing his friend and brother say so, he became inclined of joining the Knights. I’ll get good training. He thought back then as stared at you, blushing as you braided Diluc’s hair. Then, I’ll be able to protect ( Your Name ).

Now that Diluc no longer wanted to be in contact with you than more than is necessary, Kaeya grew to be more protective over you. He knew you can handle yourself as you were a Knight yourself and wields a Vision, too, but his heart clenches at the thought of you getting hurt when he could have easily had your back, like he always did.

Kaeya didn’t knowif you had feelings for him, or for anyone, for that matter. Many times he thought of confessing to you just to rip the band aid off, but he couldn’t. He’ll keep his feelings to himself and continue being the Cavalry Captain that everyone adored, and your own personal protector.

But it was getting harder and harder to hide his feeling. Everyday he was always under the threat of falling deeper in love with you. Everyday, you always give him more reasons to love you. Waiting for him to come home after taking too long in his work, taking care of him after a nasty battle or when he’s drunk, always checking up on him even if your schedule was hectic, offering him help if you deem the responsibility given to him is too much. How much longer can he pretend that he wasn’t thinking of you everyday and every night?

He was pulled back from his train of thoughts when he felt a soft material doused in alcohol perch on the wound blemishing his skin. “Ah, be gentle, ( Your Name ),” Whined Kaeya, stilling himself to refrain from moving and delaying your nurse on his cuts.

“We wouldn’t be in this situation if you had only been careful fighting those Abyss Mages.” You reprimanded with a stern glare. “Think of this as your punishment from me. Now, hold still.”

“I was fighting Abyss Mages and came back with small wounds. How am I not careful?”

“You can be more careful.” Quipped you, and finding your chance, you pressed the cotton again his skin, causing the Cavalry Captain to hiss in pain.

“Ow, ow, ow – I said be gentle!”

“Oh, you can fight Abyss Mages but can’t handle getting your wounds treated? What a baby.”

Kaeya pouted while you pulled away from him. “My dearest ( Your Name ) doesn’t love me anymore.” He cooed. “Tell me, what can I do to make it up to you, hmm?”

You shook your head and placed your hand over his head, beaming. His heart leaped in his chest. “Stop being reckless.” You responded. “You’re the most important person to me, Kaeya. I don’t want to lose you too.”

Days and days he spent thinking of what you said. He never truly knew how he important he was to you. The thought of that had him sleeping and dreaming of you and your smiles, how the days will be if you loved him the same way he loved you, and the fateful day you owned his heart.

He had to thank Diluc for introducing him to you. He couldn’t imagine being in a world where he has no one to lean on when he lost the only family he had. You became his rock, someone he could lean on and trust. His friend who he loved more than he should have, the woman he wished to see in his arms someday.

But it will never be. He has to protect you. He is always in danger and he doesn’t want to hurt you more if he died and you two are in a relationship. And he had seen firsthand how affected you were when Diluc no longer wanted to be friends with you. He won’t let you go through the same pain if your relationship didn’t work. He loved you too much to let you suffer again.

Kaeya didn’t think he would be able to thank Diluc again after their fall out but he was mistaken.

He didn’t know the full story of what had happened the night he got shitfaced drunk in the tavern but woke up the next day to learn he has revealed his feelings for you in front of his brother, and the latter had casually mentioned it to you when you dropped by the tavern to escort him back home.

Regret and frustration welled up inside of him and he spent ten minutes walking back in you guest room, trying to explain himself and perhaps even jest about having feels for you but his preparation was all futile when you opened the door just as he was about to.

Before he can speak, you beat him to it.

“The next time you get drunk like that, you’re sleeping on the couch.” You chastised, shaking your head and proceeding to turn your back to him to return downstairs. “Freshen up, and head down. I already cooked you breakfast, so hurry up before it gets cold.”

Kaeya stared blankly at the spot you previously stood before smiling. He rushed over to the staircase and looked down to watch you descend the steps. “I won’t keep you long, love.”

His smile broadened when he saw redness rush to your cheeks.

Kaeya proposed to you in a way you expected him to propose to you. A fancy dinner at a fancy restaurant where he ordered a fancy bottle of wine and placed the fancy ring he bought into your glass. It was only because you knew him well that you have no accidentally imbibed the accessory.

Upon receiving your answer to his proposal, the first thing Kaeya did the day after is hunt down for a best man. As a popular and charming Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, he thought it would be an easy task finding himself a best man but that notion gradually wilted as the date for your wedding approaches, he has yet to find someone to take the position.

In his pursuit for a best man, Kaeya came to realize something. His relationships with others aren’t exactly intimate. They drink and laugh together, but none of them really knew him. Kaeya couldn’t go to them with his personal problems or have their shoulders ready for him to cry on. They were good friends, but not people he would let inside his heart and vulnerability.

There were only two people who knew him behind the title of Cavalry Captain - you, and of course, his estranged brother, Diluc.

The very thought of Diluc sent a shiver down his spine. Diluc hated him and ( Your Name ). He pushed them away, treated them horridly, like they had been nothing to him but strangers with bad memories. Why would he want him to be his best man?

He remembered one day in Angel’s Share, he asked Venti if he could stand as his best man in the wedding and he swore he heard a glass dropping from behind the counter but when he turned, he saw Diluc wiping a wine glass with a blank expression. When Kaeya faced Venti once again, the excitement of being asked of such honorable position has withered and the Bard kindly declined before telling him to ask Diluc to be his best man. He did not.

Who cares about best man? The only thing important to me right now is marrying ( Your Name ).

But when the day of his wedding dawned, Kaeya was in a panic. Behind his charm was a man with a dark past, dark memories, and dark thoughts. He began doubting his ability to give you the life you deserve, began feeling insecurities he thought he had set aside.

He tried his best to remain calm, and for the most part, it worked. Everyone did not find something amiss when Kaeya was interacting with them before the wedding, but someone did, and that someone took him by his arm and dragged him a far and secluded corner after excusing him from who he was conversing with.

“Stop fidgeting with your tie, it’s beginning to bother me.”

Kaeya let out a huff. “Master Diluc, what a . . . surprise that you’re here.”

“You sent me an invitation.” The red head retaliated.

Kaeya had indeed sent him an invitation but he had no recollection of this or whatsoever. He was too wasted to remember.

“The Cavalry Captain losing his cool. Now this is a wedding just waiting to be ruined.”

It was almost like magic how the anxiety that has been eating him up vanished at his brother’s taunt. Kaeya glared at Diluc, opening his mouth to retaliate but before he can even let a single word move past his lips, Diluc turned his back to him and returned to the cathedral, leaving Kaeya in disbelief.

He let out a huff as he stared at his brother’s retreating form. “Bastard still knows me best.”

Kaeya has taken the reins over his emotions again, and he was sure he can keep his composure when you enter through the doors. But he was thoroughly mistaken as he swallowed the lump in his throat when his sight landed on you.

It felt like a dream. How can someone like you love him? In all his flaws, mistakes, and faults, how did you see him as someone you can lean on? Someone you want to spend the rest of your life with?

Surely, he must be dreaming. He’ll wake up in his bed any moment now and realize that everything had been the foolishness of his mind -

Except you continued making your way down aisle, and then you were in front of him with a veil covering your flushed face, and then he was slipping his hands in yours. This was real. You love him.

You leaned forward to him, nose brushing against his. “You look very dashing today, Kaeya.”

Kaeya chuckled. “And you look splendid today, Mrs. Alberich - oh, don’t go shy on me now.”

His smile broadened at the sight of your reddening cheeks. If it wasn’t for the priest speaking right now, he would have flipped over your veil and kiss you.

But there is plenty of time to do that. Kaeya will make sure of that.

XINGQIU

The youngest of the Guhua Clan will rarely be seen without a novel in hand. Everyday, Xingqiu will be seen with his friends with a book near him, always different from yesterday. He had read many novels and heard stories from storytellers, but one story he will never get tired of was his story with you.

Although it may not seem like it, Xingqiu was a hopeless romantic, and he has always imagined seeking a woman to make his bride. However, it will always be something he can only imagine. As a heir of the Guhua Clan, he has responsibilities to keep and adhere, and he has willingly accepted this. Being given the freedom to choose his bride is something he cannot afford. When his father has informed him about offering him to a daughter of another prestigious clan, he has voiced his discontentment and disinclination to the arrangement but has nonetheless followed.

What a horror it would have been if he had followed through with the tiny voice inside his head saying to run away because if he did, he would have missed the chance of laying eyes on you and experiencing what many romance novels he read called – a heart skipping a beat.

It was a tiring charade of formalities and display of pristine etiquette. All Xingqiu wanted was to retreat to a secluded area and continue immersing himself in the book he has picked up from the local library. With how often he reads, the novels in his own house he has already read, twice.

And so, he did. He kindly excused himself from the dinner between the families, making up a lie about feeling unwell and needing rest, and hurried over in the fields near his place. It is not exactly rude for him to skip dinner. It is not exactly ideal for his bride-to-be to be late in an important occasion like this so why shouldn’t he exhibit the same treatment as they did to him?

When he came to the spot be frequented, he caught sight of an unfamiliar figure from afar. A girl around his age sat on the bench under the tree, in the same spot he always occupied. She wore clothes similar to the families of the clan his family are negotiating with, so it didn’t take long for Xingqiu to learn this girl was related to them. He just didn’t know what her standing was with them.

She was beautiful, he will admit, but it was the book in her hand that caught his attention. Thus, he approached her, adorning a friendly mask as to not scare her away. It is rather uncomfortable meeting strangers in the dark of the night and somewhere far from civilization.

“Her hair billowed as she stood by the precipice, golden hues dimming in the dying light as she was left disappointed for yet another century. Her tears stung her skin and her throat tightened, but another century is simply common for someone like her. She will wait for his return, even if every mountain has eroded and all that was left of her was hope.” He recited a line from the novel as he took even ambles towards the girl, and he did not falter as she turned to face him. He offered her a smile and bowed with the elegance that his family taught. “Apologies for my disruption, my liege, but I can’t help but be thrilled to see someone with such incredible taste for literature. Not many are fond of historical fiction. Well, in my case, not many are into literature.”

Her eyes appraised him with wonder as she perfected her posture. “That’s one of the lines in the book. My, even I haven’t memorized a single phrase from any of the books in my collections.” She remarked.

“I like to memorize a line or two from all the books I’ve read. It feels like a part of them will always be with me even if my memories fade in time.” Xingqiu gestured to the vacant spot beside her. “May I sit next to you?”

She let out a laugh, to which sent shivers down Xingqiu’s spine. “You may. It’s not everyday I get to speak with someone with the same interests as me.”

He gladly seated himself beside her and immediately, he was greeted with the fragrance of flowers.

The girl extended her hand to him, smilingly softly at him. “My name is ( Your Name ),” She introduced herself. “You’re probably thinking you haven’t seen me around in Liyue, and you’re right. My family is here to meet with the Guhua Clan.”

Xingqiu took her hand and pressed a chaste kiss on the back. “Glad to make your acquaintance, my lady. My name is Xingqiu from the Guhua Clan.”

Her eyebrows raised in acknowledgment. “Is that so?” She mused. “Then, I must show my sincerest gratitude for letting my family into – ”

“Ah, there’s no need for that,” Dismissed Xingqiu as he shook his head. “We’re far from the dinner they’re sharing together. No need to be so formal with me.”

Her smile brightened. “I have a feeling we’re going to get along splendidly, Xingqiu.”

Upon returning together to his house and finding an excuse as to why Xingqiu had been outside did he and ( Your Name ) learn that it was them who were destined to be married when they are of age. The disappointment of meeting his soon-to-be bride has dissipated at the revelation, leaving him filled with utmost joy and pride as to having you as his, and from the shy and gleeful smile that wandered to your lips, Xingqiu can tell you think the same with him.

It was to be expected that the two of you will have a luxurious and grand wedding. With the two of you coming from wealthy families, it was no surprise. If you have insisted for a small wedding consisting only of close relatives and friends, your parents will fear some other elite clans will perceive this as them losing power and money and will take advantage of them or simply cut ties with them. You and Xingqiu had no other choice but to respect their requests. Although Xingqiu was secretly relieved you agreed to a big wedding. For him, you deserved only the best of the best, and in this case, larger is better.

Both families came to an agreement that it would be for the best if the two of you are not to see each other for the week before your wedding day. You found nothing wrong with this arrangement. Xingqiu, however, was the opposite of you.

Many times he tried to sneak out of his house to visit you in secret but Chongyun has thwarted this attempts many times. When he goes to adventures with the Traveler, he find himself missing you in mere hours. How can he survive a whole week without communicating with you?

Oh, how foolish of him. He was now allowed to visit you but he can, however, write letters to you.

For the whole week, Xingqiu will be writing to you without ceasing. You’ll have a difficult time keeping up with his letters but you’ll always find time to respond to him. After all, you missed him just as much as he missed you.

Xingqiu woke up before the sun can call for him. He walked around in his room, breathing in and out as he tried to soothe his joy. Chongyun, who was tasked to look after Xingqiu for the whole week, woke up from the sound of his footsteps. When he stepped inside his best friend’s room, Xingqiu held Chongyun’s hands and twirled him around, startling the half-asleep Cryo user.

“I’m getting married to ( Your Name ) today!”

“I know, Xingqiu. I’ve been stopping you from visiting her the whole week.”

Your wedding was held in a beautiful garden where cherry blossoms flutter and the wind was gentle and cool.

Xingqiu always held his composure in any situations and circumstances he encountered. But he was going to admit that seeing you in your wedding dress with the cherry blossoms kissing your skin and tresses every now and then had him malfunctioning.

It took a worse turn when you finally stood before him, expectantly looking at him. A compliment, a playful jest, a seductive remark - but there was none of that.

Xingqiu stared at you, eyes shining with admiration and his lips parted in pleasant surprise.

“Xingqiu, earth to Xingqiu,” You whispered. “You there?”

It was only after you spoke that Xingqiu snapped out of his stupor.

“Get yourself together, Xingqiu.” Stated Chongyun beside him in a whisper.

It took him a while to find him bearings but when he did, Xingqiu smiled at you and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

“Beautiful, just like the first time I saw you.”

SCARAMOUCHE

Scaramouche has dedicated his entire life to seeing through what his majesty, the Tsaritsa, desired. His life shall be nothing but a pawn for her to use in her schemes and may her will be done through him and her subjects. If she must dispose of him to make success of her endeavor, Scaramouche will gladly surrender before her eyes and bare his neck for her to cut. He will do anything she commands without a second thought, and anyone who dares get in his way will face the wrath of an incensed Harbinger.

It was all about the Tsaritsa. His entire his existence is for his majesty. It was all he ever believed in when the honor of being the sixth Harbingers was crowned over him. With that said, Scaramouche can never bring himself to admit his resolve has been altered upon his discreet visitation to the City of Freedom to conduct a more intimate investigation over the meteorites and the impact it had on the people of Mondstadt.

His skull was throbbing, his thoughts scattered, and frustration was beginning to settle inside of him. Scaramouche has just dispatched his soldiers to continue their research on the meteors after his failed attempt to eliminate the traveler. He was left alone in the tranquility of the night, with the remnants of the astrologist’s escape glittering beneath his eyes, mocking him.

“I should have acted quicker. The Traveler will continue foiling The Tsaritsa’s plans.” Mumbled Scaramouche to himself. “No matter. There will be another chance in the future to finish off the hero of Mondstadt, and I’m sure it’ll come sooner than I expect. I must prepare for that time. I can’t make this mistake again.”

A curious hum that echoed behind him had him stiffening in his place and drawing out his weapon from thin air. “Are you interested about the meteors too?” A voice asked.

Scaramouche turned around, and he found a woman standing behind him a few meters away. She has a beauty that he favors, a smile so gentle that it thawed a bit of ice in his heart, but a scowl made its way to his countenance. She’s taller than me.

She didn’t look particularly like anyone he would have any interest in knowing, and when she has introduced herself to him after he supplied her with no answer, Scaramouche predicted correctly. She was merely an ordinary folk in any ordinary city with no Vision or any skillset that could benefit him in anything.

“I must get going.” Curtly stated Scaramouche and he turned around without even bidding goodbye to the woman.

“So soon?” You asked. “I thought we could at least talk what’s been happening – about the meteors, the stars.”

Scaramouche frowned at the mention of the latter and he spun back around to meet your gaze. “The stars? What about the stars?”

You smiled a secret smile. “The stars . . . they’re fake.”

Scaramouche stared at you with wonder and amusement in his dark hues. He has always believed in that notion, and only a handful came to agree with him. Now, here a lady stands before him, with nothing in particular to offer him, speaking of the truth many has rejected.

He examined you from head to toe, evaluating your form before beckoning you to come over to him, saying, “Perhaps I can spare some time to talk.”

What was supposed to be a conversation within an hour or so has extended for a day, and when you requested to accompany him back to ship docked in Liyue Harbor to continue your conversation (it surprised him but has nonetheless allowed you to tag along) about the meteors and the stars, it dragged on for weeks.

But Scaramouche would be lying if he said that was all you discussed about. There was only so much information they can relate to the subject that has intertwined their fates that it did not take long for the two of you to stray from it to favor a more civil conversation. He learned of your mundane life back in Mondstadt where you were merely another dot in the bustle of the city and he managed to extract from you valuable material regarding the Honorary Knight (in truth, you have willingly told him everything you knew about the Hero of Mondstadt and this he was very pleased with). He learned about your family, your work, your past, and your ambition to adventure throughout the lands of Teyvat even without a Vision.

He thought it was foolish of you to believe you can ever get out of your city without a Vision. There were too many enemies that a simple adventurer like you could easily be overwhelmed with. Not to mention the Fatuis that he and his fellow Harbingers has placed all throughout Teyvat. The thought of you getting hurt, especially by his own soldiers . . . it did not sit right with him.

Arriving at Liyue Harbor, Scaramouche proposed that you come with him. It is no secret that anyone who do not possess a Vision cannot survive if they were ever to embark on a journey. Hearing your desire for an adventure, Scaramouche has come to decide that as gratitude for your pleasant company and for your compliance in giving him information about the renowned traveler, he shall take you along in his voyage, showing you the grandest landscapes, granting your every need and desires, all the while keeping you at his side where he was certain you were safe.

It was all to thank you, nothing else. It wasn’t because Scaramouche knew he would find himself missing you and the comfort you bring when you leave, nor was it because he was fond of you. Yes, yes, all just to show his gratitude.

As his soldiers watched as Scaramouche led you aboard in ship with his hand interlocked with yours, they thought the same thing – Scaramouche is never the one to show gratitude to anyone. You had him smitten.

How you were able to fall in love with Scaramouche in such a short period of time is fascinating. Especially with his horrid personality.

But he was different with you. He was gentle, caring, and never raised his voice. The insults remained but there was no venom behind them. It took you quite some time to get used to his belittling remarks but it didn’t evade your perception how Scaramouche begun lessening his insults, opting for a more playful jab instead.

He proposed to you over at dinner. He had just come back from an expedition and came home to a table filled with your cooking. As the two of you are exchanging your stories of what went with your lives when you two were separated, Scaramouche placed his chopsticks away, looked at you straight in the eyes and said, “Marry me.”

How can you say no to such a romantic proposal?

Actually, you made him redo his proposal before you accepted but nobody else has to know about that.

There was no best man for Scaramouche in your wedding. The man was feared by everyone, and his fellow Harbingers hated him. Childe did insist on being his best man at one point but he almost ended up being fried by a lightning bolt. Apparently, the 11th Harbinger pestered him for a whole week trying to convince him to let him be the best man so his actions were justified - just a little bit.

You have to give it to Scaramouche. Regardless of his busy schedule and the current predicament in Inazuma, he managed to find time and opportunity to plan your wedding and marry you without having to worry about the Electro Archon and her subjects.

Scaramouche scoffed at the tradition of not being able to see you on the very day of your wedding. What good would it be? You were going to be his wife, and he wanted to see his wife. He saw himself above tradition, and visited you first thing in the morning at the day of the wedding.

It was no question Scaramouche was an authoritative man but he was more so as he prepared himself for the wedding.

His maids ran about in the room, providing everything he needed and wanted. Scaramouche was not known for being compassionate, but this was the first time they’ve been on the receiving end of his wrath. Normally, he would ignore their existence and not even bother to call them by their names but today, he was different. He acted worse than when he comes home after a failed mission.

The maids knew he was beyond frustrated with the wedding. So, they called to ask for your help.

“Scaramouche, you’re scaring the maids.” You cooed as you came up behind him and placed your hands on his shoulders.

Scaramouche let out a scoff, but you felt his frame soften. He sat before a mirror, and he gazed at your reflection as he placed a hand over one of yours. “Even they weren’t so terrible with their jobs . . . ”

“You’re making things so hard for them. And for yourself too.” You stated. “Marrying me shouldn’t be hard, should it?”

That statement set Scaramouche right, and when you left to carry on with your own preparation and the maids returned to their duties, he was more civil with them. If that’s what you want, then he can endure it.

The hour has finally arrived. Scaramouche has faced many dangers in his life, but it was only now he felt restless. What is taking you so long? He thought you wanted to marry him. Then what’s warranting your late arrival?

At that thought, you finally appeared by the end of the aisle, holding a bouquet in your hands. Everyone in the venue gaped at your beauty, and Scaramouche was thankful you had everyone gazing at you. He didn’t want them to see the dumbfounded and poorly hidden lovestruck expression that crossed his mien for a moment.

But a sense of pride also touched him.

That’s my bride.

When the ceremony begins, you and Scaramouche were seated side by side. You smiled brightly at him when you sat, but he didn’t any indication that he saw your smile and continued giving his undivided attention on the person conducting your wedding. You pouted heavily at this but said nothing and followed his actions. However, your smile returned when you felt his fingers hooking with yours. It was a small improvement, but it was intimate and loving.

Scaramouche didn’t cry in your wedding but when his arms held you tightly to his chest when evening came and two of you lied down on your shared bed, it was enough for you to know he loved you as much as you loved him.

Maybe more so.

RAZOR

Razor rarely experience human interaction, and if he did, it would be abrupt and depending on how the communication was being dealt by both parties, it would either be Razor who parts from them first out of wariness or lacking knowledge of being social or the other would, most of the time for the reason they find it disturbing a human could act so much like a wolf. The humans Razor constantly encounter are the hunters from Springvale and due to their bellowing voices and violence against his Lupicals, he has limited his ventures to Mondstadt unless something calls for an emergency.

Other than the man who gave him his name, Razor only knew a handful of people – six of them being the Traveler, Traveler’s companion, Bennett, Klee, her big brother Albedo, and the woman he sees as his mentor, Lisa. He can only ever let his guard down when around them, though he was still a wee bit cautious of Albedo whenever Klee drags him to his camp.

He didn’t think he could meet anyone else who can consider a Lupical. That was until he met you. You were taking a peaceful stroll around Wolvendom – Archons know why you chose the most avoided place in Mondstadt to walk through – at the same time he was hunting down boars for his Lupicals.

There was no rescuing or danger involved when he met you. It was a simple encounter, to which Razor was pleasantly surprised with. In almost all occasions, when he is meeting a fellow human being, it would be under rather unusual circumstances. He met the Traveler and her floating friend when they were being attacked by slimes. He met Lisa when she has painted the skies dark as she was singlehandedly fending herself off from a mob of Hilichurls. He met Klee when she was using her bombs to fish. He met Albedo in the middle of a chaotic experiment to which resulted in an evacuation. He met Bennett when he was hanging upside down from a tree when he tried to take an apple from a high branch, and the tree was up in flames.

To say, meeting you normally was a breath of fresh air.

The two of you hit it off almost immediately, or so that is what it seems to you. Although you consider Razor a good friend even in just the few days you have met, he was still very careful of you. He had been deceived by humans before and it may be a little unfair to you since he trusted the Traveler and Bennett almost in an instant, he must first know you are trustworthy.

And indeed, you’ve proven yourself as such. Perhaps, more so than the Traveler. You have done everything to show him you have no ill intentions against him and his Lupicals – helped him in hunting for sustenance for his family even if you have to knowledge in hunting, helping him broaden his vocabulary, helping him read and write – but it was your sacrifice to protect them that made him truly open himself up to you.

An Abyss Mage has appeared out of nowhere and has wreaked havoc in their residence. Razor can feel his heart thundering as he raced through Wolvendom along with a few of his Lupicals who he had gone out with to hunt. Upon arriving at their home, Razor has anticipated to see the grass painted with red and wounded wolves whimpering in pain as others try to battle against the Abyss Mage. But to his relief, such image was not implemented into reality. Instead, he found his Lupicals sleeping soundly in their den, and the remains of the Abyss Mage has slowly evaporated in thin air. As the particles gradually disappeared, they made way for your presence to be revealed.

Razor let out a gasp when he laid eyes on you. Bruised, bleeding, exhausted, but smiling as you happily waved at him with the hand clutching your weapon.

You happily advanced towards him, tittering. Razor reached out to take your hand, and reluctantly asked of your welfare. Now he understood why humans ask how one is fairing when they are clearly unwell – they do not know what else to say.

“Why would you do that?” Razor questioned as he brought you far from his den to tend to your wounds without waking his family. “You are hurt now.”

“I can’t let an Abyss Mage hurt your Lupical.” You answered firmly, the smile you wore dissipating as you gazed into his eyes. “I might not be as strong as the Honorary Knight or Acting Grand Master Jean, but I fought well.”

What was this odd sensation he was feeling? This strong urge to protect you, to take you in his arms and never let you go – what was this? He has never felt like this before. So light, so . . . flustered. He thought this feeling would be gone after a few days, but months has passed and since then, the feeling became more prominent, stronger. All the time he could never get enough of you and there will always be that lingering trickle of pain in his chest when you have to leave for the day. Razor knew you would come back the day after when the night has gone, but it never stopped that little ache.

Razor understood that he lacked understanding of feelings, so he confided to Bennett about it. Bennett was almost as clueless as Razor about feelings – almost – but he did know when someone was taking a liking of someone in a more amorous manner. He has filled Razor about exactly what he was feeling for you, and not the kind of feeling that he has for him and the Traveler, but the kind of liking he would have towards a . . . girlfriend? (Bennett had to explain to him the meaning behind girlfriend and it was no easy task).

“Liking someone like a girlfriend . . . ” Razor muttered, scrunching his face in puzzlement. “ . . . like a mate?”

Bennett flushed at the word but nodded. “Yes, like a mate.”

Bennett tried his best to help Razor confess to you, and this is where disaster happened. Since Razor is mostly uneducated in terms of romantic feelings, he did not feel any anxiety crawling up to him when he decided to admit his feelings to you. The problem is that he has decided to confess in a wrong time and in a difficult situation.

“You should confess to her after you’ve saved her from danger!” Exclaimed Bennett, beaming at Razor.

The latter tilted his head to the side. “Razor doesn’t . . . get it.”

“Well, in the books I’ve read, the guys confess to the girls they like in a dangerous time. I don’t know how that’s safe, but it works. But since we don’t want to hurt ( Your Name ), you’ll save her before confessing!”

Bless his innocent heart, Razor trusted Bennett’s word without a smidge of doubt. His opportunity to admit his feelings came when the two of you saw Reckless Pallad being surrounded by Hilichurls getting ready to pounce on him. The thing is you too knew your way around a battlefield and have efficiently begun fighting off the Hilichurls. Razor watched as you made quick work of rescuing Reckless Pallad and he didn’t even notice himself beginning to pout in disappointment until you were right in front of him again, worriedly gazing at him.

“Razor, what’s wrong?” You questioned, appraising him. “You’re not injured, are you?”

He shook his head. “Razor not injured.” He confirmed.

“Well, that’s good, but why aren’t you moving? We need to save that man.”

“Razor wanted to confess to ( Your Name ) by saving her.”

Razor explained the plan of his confession he conspired with Bennett, how he would save you from danger and tell you his everlasting love that he didn’t notice the redness tinting your cheeks and the wide smile stretching across your face.

Razor only took note of the phenomenon occurring on your features when he has finished elaborating his scheme. He narrowed his eyes curiously. “Your face is all . . . red. Sick?” He asked.

Razor didn’t have a chance to further speculate just exactly was ailing you before you took hold of his face and softly placed your lips against him, catching him off guard.

There was a blossom in his chest when you kissed him – this is love, right? Razor decided there and then he liked this feeling of love.

Needless to say, Reckless Pallad was left alone for the Traveler to save. Again.

Razor had no idea what weddings were. He has never heard of such thing before. The first time he did learn about it was when he was hanging out with you and the Traveler. The latter mentioned that you and him are invited in a wedding. Razor tilted his head in confusion but when he turned to ask you what it was, he froze. Your eyes were shimmering with joy and excitement. Razor liked seeing you like that.

So when you were preoccupied, Razor asked the Traveler what a wedding was. Perhaps a wedding was some sort of food that he can find in the wild?

After Traveler has explained what weddings are and the concept of marriage as well, Razor did not waste time trying to propose to you. Since he had no money to buy a very expensive ring, he asked Bennett for help to find materials so he can make one of his own. In the end, they had Wagner help them form a ring. It wasn’t exactly the best looking but when Razor showed it to you and asked for your hand in marriage (Traveler helped him with his proposal speech and had to explain that asking for your hand doesn’t mean literal), and he saw the pure joy on your face, he thought it was pretty enough for you.

Razor didn’t know you were happy mostly because he proposed to you but you didn’t tell him. He looked so proud with the ring.

Your wedding was small and only a very few people were invited. Klee insisted on being one of the flower girls and Razor almost agreed until she began spouting about bombs which will detonate in the air and will explode with flowers. Albedo advised Razor not to make her one of the flower girls because Klee, for sure, will bring flower bombs (it will explode with flowers, but the explosion is still there).

Razor chose Bennett as his best man. That was supposed to be a good thing but when the two of those pair up together, they can tend to cause a lot of chaos, unintentionally.

At the day of the wedding, nearly all the invitees refuse to enter the cathedral as they claim there was danger inside. When Kaeya and Jean came to inspect this danger they speak of, both wielded their weapons once seeing a pack of wolves huddled at the front, just before the altar, with Bennett and Razor telling them to behave.

You had to explain to Razor why it was dangerous and made people uncomfortable when there are wolves present in the cathedral. Although Razor was understandably disappointed by this, he conceded and brought his Lupicals back to Wolvendom. To make it up to him, you promised a private celebration will be held in Wolvendom with nobody else but you, him, Bennett, and of course, his Lupicals.

Razor didn’t know why Bennett seemed more nervous than him when the two of them were standing by the altar.

“I’m going to ruin your wedding, Razor! Aren’t you worried?”

“ . . . but you not ruining anything . . . ?”

When you finally arrived in the cathedral, Razor felt excitement surge in his body and he can hardly stop himself from squirming on his seat.

But he wasn’t smiling. These emotions . . . he was having a hard time comprehending them. It was good, it was nice, but it was overwhelmingly so.

He could have cried, and he almost did but when you were before him, smiling at him, he couldn’t help but smile back.

His beautiful wife, his Lupical.

Bennett was the one who cried in your wedding.

ALBEDO

It was always a fascinating sight to see a traveler meandering through Dragonspine without minding the sheer cold or flawlessly fending themselves off from the enemies lurking around. Even Albedo has some degree of difficult in navigating his way back to his camp without the Fatui spotting him or tailing him. But it was more fascinating to see a young woman standing in the middle of a freezing lake with nothing but her trousers and her brassiere.

It was a peculiar meeting, yes, but out of the ordinary people and matters has always endeared him.

Albedo brought you to his camp as quickly as he can and asked Timaeus to hand you a cup of warm tea and a blanket. After thanking him for his kindness and consuming half of the beverage generously given to you, you introduced yourself.

You were an adventurer who came all the way from Liyue to embark on a journey to discover the harshness and secrets that laid within Dragonspine, a mountain many do not dare set foot further in. Other than the mentioned reasons, training was a top priority of yours. You claim one cannot go further in their adventure while being comfortable in their current, and he completely agrees with your statement. When Albedo questioned why you had been in the middle of a lake in Dragonspine, you answered that being able to withstand the cold was just part of your training and seeing as he had caught you shivering to close to death, it was not going well.

Albedo didn’t think he would see you again after you parted from him, but he was surprised when the next day he found you waiting for him in his camp, a smile on your face as you stand proudly and wave at him.

Something about you piqued his interest, if his interest was somehow related to how his heart accelerated whenever you come close to him to offer help with his experiment, or when his face grows hot if you offer him a compliment. He thought it was your way of showing him your gratefulness for taking care of you yesterday, so he allowed your presence in his camp, around him. Albedo didn’t expect you to visit again the next day, and the day after that, and so on and so forth. But he can’t say he disliked your frequent visitations, or your presence that always seem to be following him everywhere he went. He very much liked your company and thoroughly enjoyed listening about your adventures and everything you came across in your adventure. They were a good distraction from his experiments. Everything about you set his mind in ease.

It wasn’t long until the two of you are spending more time together alone. No experiments, no work in mind. It just the two of you keeping one another company and sharing stories about your days, and making banters here and there – whether it be in a walk under the moon, or sharing a meal in Good Hunter, or while he paints somewhere in Dragonspine.

Although Albedo was not well versed in the complexity of romance and has deemed relationships to be rather tedious to uphold, but he was knowledgeable enough to know that in the process of his growing friendship with you, he has caught feelings for you.

This has certainly brought difficulty in his relationship with you. Albedo, although never verbally admitting so, has always thought of feelings as a nuisance. In a relationship, in his own observation, disadvantages trump over advantages. He had seen the irrationality that love has caused, the stupidity. His observation led him to one conclusion – other than being friends with people, relationships is not for him.

You have put him in a challenging situation. It would have been easy to cut ties with you if you haven’t successfully infiltrated his walls and snaked your way in his heart. The very thought of pushing you away was repulsive to him. Seeing the hurt cross your features – it will haunt him for the rest of his life.

The interest he had for you was not interest at all. It was the beginning of love. He should have been more alert, and this wouldn’t have happened.

What if you returned his feelings and your relationship did not work? There was no way your friendship could be salvaged. Isn’t it much better to remain as friends than risk ruining any chance of keeping you in his life?

No, no, that would be insanely idiotic. It will eat him up. Thus, he treated his feelings for you like an experiment. Dipping carefully, testing the waters – confessing to you.

He can construct a confession that will perfectly enunciate his feelings for you while emphasizing your freedom to reject him and his desire to remain good friends with you. Surely, you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. All he needed is for you to let him down, and he will hope you can still see him the same way after.

All his preparations, however, were thrown out of the window when you beat him to confessing.

Albedo had no idea how struck his expression must have been with puzzlement, anxiety and flatter as he attentively listens to every word that leaves your lips. His heart pounded at everything you were saying – everything he adored about you, you adored about him. Being unable to speak his mind felt foreign to him. After you finished your confession, a beautiful red hue coloring your cheeks as you looked into his eyes with hopefully eyes, all he can do his open his mouth a smidge, and close, and then open again. He must have resembled a goldfish at that time.

Albedo couldn’t believe it. You loved him, and here he was expecting to be rejected and thinking relationships were a waste of time.

He was in a dilemma now. Accept your feelings as his heart desired to, or gently reject you for practicality? Having a lover would complicate his life and he will risk so many things that he were used to just to be able to keep his relationship with you fruitful. Was he ready for something like that?

This was the first time Albedo has listened to his heart. He still remembered how he cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours, muffling the gasp that tumbled out of you.

Albedo might be a stranger to romance but he is an Alchemist and risks are part of his job, and risking coming out of his comfort to be with you was something you deserve, and maybe something he deserved as well.

You knew Albedo was going to propose to you. He was always immersed in his experiments and research that you took the responsibility of tidying up his lab. It did not take long for you to find a small black box nestled in the back inside a drawer filled with haphazardly thrown papers and used pens.

Albedo knew that you knew he was going to propose to you. The two of you were taking a peaceful stroll around Dragonspine and after a heartfelt speech, he knelt down to one knee, he curiously watched as you malfunctioned right in front of him, trying to elect which route of surprise should you take before displaying a less then satisfactory theatrics of surprise.

Nonetheless, the two of you are still happy.

You and Albedo agreed that the two of you will have a small and private wedding. Klee, however, did not. She was less than thrilled to hear about that and went on a whole spiel of the reasons why you should have the biggest and most fun wedding ever, as she said.

“ - then where will a really, really tall wedding cake and Klee is going to make a bomb that will explode in the skies where it will burst out many pretty flower petals - ”

Jean promised the two of you that she will keep an eye on her at the day of the wedding.

Albedo is adamant on two things - a small wedding, and having no best man, and the latter had two reasons. Although he is highly respected in Mondstadt, there was no one he could ask to be best man, and the second reason is that he loves you and is certain that marrying you is something he wants. No doubts. He didn’t need a best man helping him in something he didn’t need help with.

Albedo was also not someone to conform to the ritual of not seeing the bride on the day of the wedding until the very ceremony, but for you, he begrudgingly followed.

On the day of the wedding, Albedo prepared himself without the help of anyone. He prepared his own clothes and had Klee braid his hair (it was a wee bit sloppy and Albedo fixed them when she had her back turned to him and gave her all the credit).

The man reached for the door to visit you but he let out a sigh when he realized that he cannot. He made a promise that today, the first time he’ll see you is when you walk down the aisle. He has to keep his promise. Not to mention Klee blocked his way and reminded him of that (tried to block).

Albedo was a patient man. Patience was nothing new to him. His research and experiments needed patience or they will ultimately fail. It came to the point where being impatient made him uncomfortable. That’s exactly what was happening when he was standing at the altar. Nobody, not even the observant Kaeya himself, can tell Albedo was beginning to lose his patience.

The day had been a little too long. He wanted to see you already. It didn’t matter if the ceremony would take a while before he can kiss you and call you his wife. He just wanted to see you again.

Albedo turned away the moment you stepped inside the cathedral. You were far from repulsive or ugly (and he can never think of you like that), but he had to cast his gaze somewhere but on you. He knew you’ll be beautiful in your wedding dress, but seeing you now with your adorable and shy smile, with Cecilia flowers in your hands, and your eyes fixated on him and only him - Albedo nearly lost his composure.

This time he was sure Kaeya saw it.

“Waah, big sister ( Your Name ) looks soooo pretty!” Klee cooed loudly, causing the guests to let out a few chuckles of amusement.

His impatience was beginning to pierce through him. The moment you faced him, Albedo did not waste time grabbing your hands, and once he did, you saw him visibly soften, as though a huge burden was lifted from his shoulders.

“What happened to you?” You asked, giggling.

Albedo returned your smile. “I’m just very happy to see you.”

The fervor that he exuded when he kissed you certainly supported his statement.

THOSE WHO WILL HIDE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RECEPTION TO CRY SOMEWHERE NO ONE CAN SEE THEM

CHONGYUN

Chongyun was known for two things – being an exorcist and having a type of condition that needed his keen observation and awareness.

He has always disliked his condition. Whenever his Yang energy overwhelms, he must immediately consume an icy treat to be able to soothe his nerves. But it seems he can be thankful for it for this one time. If it wasn’t for his congenital positivity, he wouldn’t have stumbled across you, and your hundred homemade ice cream you smuggled out of your own home.

Chongyun had been hurrying to meet his friend at that day. He had just finished an exorcism somewhere in Qingce Village and was rushing to where he and Xingqiu usually meet in Liyue. He was already running late, and who knows what Xingqiu will do if he was late again. He let out a pained yelp when he crashed against your form when he made a sharp turn, and his Yang energy has never been in a more unstable state than when he saw you seated on the ground, groaning in pain, with peculiar looking containers littering the floor around you.

Chongyun had profusely apologized for his actions and assisted you in gathering all the belongings he had knocked off your possession. He felt the coldness in the small containers you once held and wondered what was inside. He hasn’t seen anything like this before. He knew his Yang energy was starting to ooze out of him but he underestimated its manifestation until you placed your hand over his forehead. He pulled back away instantly, startled by your actions, to which you immediately apologized.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He repeated, light blue hair bobbing with his movements as he bowed his head over to you again and again, mortification palpable on his features. “I-I didn’t mean to run – ”

“No, no, I should be the one apologizing! I wasn’t looking where I was going and I put my hand on you all of a sudden – ” You were about to continue spewing apologies and explanations when you froze, concern etching across his face. “ - oh, hey, you’re really, really red. Are you okay?”

Even when it had been years since his encounter with you, he still gets embarrassed when he remembered that, and you and Xingqiu tease him about it.

He explained to you then about his condition and when you offered him a container you owned containing ice cream you made, that’s when your friendship begun. When the two of you snuck out to a secluded area in Liyue Harbor to gorge on the tons of ice cream you have once again brought out of your house despite your mother’s warnings did he know it would be a friendship that will last long. His only regret was that he introduced you to Xingqiu, and now he must endure double the teasing.

One thing he appreciated about you was how ready you were whenever you were with him. You made it your point to know what can cause his condition to act up and soothe him by your words, and always having ice cream with you. And the best part was that the ice cream you give him is always homemade, made by you. His popsicles could never compete to your masterpiece.

He never really thought of you as someone he would be romantically interested in. Sure, there were instances when his Yang energy would flare up because of having you by his side, when your smile brought upon his own, when his heart raced when you held his hand as the two of you were returning from a commission, when he gazed at you with adoration when you took care of him and fed him cold noodles when he was having a fever (he refused to eat hot noodles even in his illness). Surely, all friends do that with one another, right? And feeling this odd sensation in his chest was normal, right?

When he confided in Xingqiu with this, the boy laughed at his cluelessness. It wasn’t surprising. Chongyun did not have a lot of friends so distinguishing friendship and romance was not easy for him. The Hydro Vision holder filled him in with everything he has to know about relationships, and he used some pretty unconventional ways like giving him a too descriptive image of how a man and woman would kiss, and other explicit doings of adults.

But it did bring light one thing – Chongyun liked you, and of course how he handled such revelation was, simply put, disastrous.

His entire body felt hot, and he was stammering to the point even the ever so eloquent Xingqiu cannot understand him. Normally, when things get like this, he’ll rush over to your place and request for some of your delicious ice cream but seeing as you were somehow part of the reason for this, he had to rely on Xingqiu to take care of him.

After learning about his feelings for you, Chongyun have never been more uneasy around you, which was odd, and he was sure you’ve noticed, and yet has never dropped any comment about it.

He was always nervous around you. Blushing whenever you come close to him, jumping when you take his hand in his, stammering whenever you praise him for anything, feeling the need to run away if you ask him about how he was fairing – he has lost count just how many popsicles he has eaten just to keep his cool. He has stopped asking ice cream from you and declined any offer from you because he thought accepting your homemade ice creams could lead him to falling deeper in love with you until he couldn’t move on anymore.

Chongyun didn’t notice your growing impatience. He was so immersed in his own feelings that he didn’t take into consideration how you felt whenever he flinched away from your touch and rejected your treats.

It took Xingqiu for the growing tension between the two of you to alleviate. He made an elaborate plan to get the two of you together in an isolated place (a broom closet) and has made a claim not to let any of you go until the two of you have confessed your feelings with each other.

“Just tell me what’s wrong with you, Chongyun! Why are you acting so weird around me?” You asked him but he refused to answer you just as he refused to look at you.

You let out a sigh as you reached out to take his hand but when he pulled away from your touch, that was the last straw.

“If you don’t want to be friends with me anymore, just say so.”

Alarmed, Chongyun faced you, stuttering. “No! Of course, I want to be friends with you - I mean, I don’t want to be friends - wait, that sounded wrong, and so bad - ”

Your brows burrowed together in question. “You want to be friends but you don’t want to be friends?”

Chongyun groaned as he buried his face on his hands. It’s now or never.

“I like you, ( Your Name ).”

The silence that followed was deafening for Chongyun. He removed his hands from his face and prepared himself to apologize and beg to continue being friends when he felt hands cup his face, and your lips pressing against his. It was a good thing you had ice cream on you even after he avoided you for weeks. He almost fainted in your arms if it wasn’t for you shoving a finger in his mouth with a scoop of ice cream.

It was one of the few times Chongyun was grateful for Xingqiu’s interest in romantic tropes because if it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t have left that room with a blushing but happy face with you.

Xingqiu smirked as the two of you exited the room, hand in hand and redness coating your cheeks. “Well, well, well, look who - ”

“Shut up, Xingqiu,” You and Chongyun chorused. The two of you looked at each other out of surprise and then burst out laughing, all the while the Hydro Vision user stood by the side, sighing.

“Now, I have to deal with these two’s teasing.”

When Chongyun realized he was ready to propose to you after years of being together, he asked Xingqiu to propose to you on his behalf.

His best friend nearly destroyed his book from whacking the Cryo user for thinking such an inane idea could work. Not only was it not romantic, it was also inappropriate. Xingqiu had to reprimand him for an entire hour proposing that idea but being a good best friend that he is despite his mischievous streak, he vowed to help the man propose to you.

It was no easy task and there were times where Chongyun held himself back and risking yet another proposal plan. He was thankful Xingqiu was well versed with romance and everything entailed with it and knew more ways to help him. After a countless of delays, Chongyun managed to get down on one knee one fine evening by the trails leading to Liyue Harbor, spew out affirmation of his love for you in stammers, and asked for your hand in marriage.

When you accepted his proposal and adorned your finger with the ring, Chongyun discreetly showed a thumbs up to a nearby bush. About three hands popped out from the leaves, offering the same action.

Xingqiu let out a sigh as Xiangling and Xinyan giggled. “Finally.” He breathed out. “Now, time for me to be his best man.”

Of course, Chongyun chose him as his best man. Who else would be a better choice than him?

Chongyun is firm about Xingqiu being his best man but sometimes he can be a little bit . . . pushy, especially when it comes to something he believes in.

There was a tradition where he cannot see you for a whole week until the ceremony. Chongyun was mildly bothered by this arrangement but nonetheless, since you agree with it, he will respect your wishes and do the same. Xingqiu has over and over again tried to persuade him to visit you at home, and he made some interesting points why he should. He almost convinced him a few times but in the end, he refused to be lured in his trap and stopped the temptation of breaking his promise.

He missed you dearly, yes, and his patience will surely be rewarded soon.

Chongyun, as expected, was freaking out at the day of wedding. Marriage is a huge step for the both of you. You’re not going to regret marrying him, will you? What if this marriage didn’t work? He’ll lose you for you.

Xingqiu had to guide him away from the altar and to a corner for privacy. Other than you, Xingqiu was a person who had been when his condition start acting up and how it worked.

After successfully cooling him down with a popsicle, Xingqiu consoled Chongyun. “I don’t know what you’re thinking about back there but you have nothing to worry about. ( Your Name ) loves you.”

“What if it doesn’t work between us?”

“It will. I’ve seen how you two are. You’re perfect for each other. I think you already know that, and ( Your Name ) does too. Why would she accept your proposal if she didn’t think the two of you wouldn’t prosper together?”

Chongyun murmured. “Pity?”

If Xingqiu had a book with at that moment, he would have smacked Chongyun again.

Once his condition has subsided, Chongyun returned to the altar and Xingqiu stood behind him, waiting.

The moment you arrived, Chongyun can feel himself heating up and his heart pounding against his chest. It felt like his condition was acting up but he wasn’t feeling nauseous or at the edge of fainting. It was a pleasant sort of warmth, the warmth he felt when he first met you.

No. It was the same warmth that travels through his body whenever he sees you, but this time, it was stronger to the point he it almost felt like his condition.

Your smile immediately disappeared when you saw Chongyun flushed red and his eyes averting from yours.

Worry encapsulated you. “Is your condition acting up?” You asked in a whisper.

Chongyun blinked, puzzled. “What?”

Discreetly taking a gander at the audience completely unaware of your interaction, you slipped your hand under your dress and showed Chongyun was a small ice cream container.

“I brought this with me just in case.”

Chongyun decided he made the best decision of his life to marry you.

He took your hands in his and pressed a small kiss on top of one.

“Thank you, love.”

After the wedding, Chongyun immediately visited the comfort room. You tried to follow him but Xingqiu told you there was nothing to worry about, and he was right.

When he entered the comfort room, Chongyun locked the door behind him and headed straight to the sink to splash some water on his face.

One won’t be able to tell Chongyun was crying from the water streaming down his face.

He looked up at the mirror, staring at his reflection as he let out a small, and content sigh.

“I’m married. I’m married to her.” Chongyun tried to hold back his smile, but he failed. “She’s my . . . wife.”

And did it sound nice to call you his wife.

XIAO

It was his duties to Rex Lapis, to the thriving land of Liyue, that kept Xiao grounded and his mind temporarily fleeting away from the karmic debts that weighed on his shoulders. If it had not been for the responsibilities laid down on him, he was sure to have succumb to the consequences of his bloodshed from the past long ago. It was the reason behind his creation, to serve the people of Liyue and protect them from any transgressors or anything that could potentially lead to their destruction, and it was all he knew. His existence was all for Liyue, and to seek out the desires of Rex Lapis and accomplish them no matter how difficult and by what means.

Day and night he oversees every part of Liyue and hears every call of his name and seeks refuge in Wangshu Inn. It was a cycle that has never changed ever since the gruesome war between gods has taken place in Teyvat, and all was same until that night when he heard a cry for help from a distant place, and rescued a strange maiden from the peril she found herself in.

Love at first sight disgusted him the most. He can understand, to some degree, that mortals can fall in love with people they have built a caring and trusting relationship with but falling in love with someone who one has no dust of knowledge of their identity was simply unwise and incomprehensible. And yet there he was, leaping from the precipice of a soaring mountain and securing the mortal in the middle of her fall.

Xiao had no clue why it felt like time has stopped and they have gently floated in the air as he took a gander at the woman in his arms. Scratches littered her features, and twigs adorned her mop of hair, but she still shone brighter than the stars and moon behind her.

He did not let her speak to him after he has placed her safely on solid ground and he quickly took his leave without even a glance back.

When he had painted the lands of Teyvat red with the other Yakshas, he did not blink an eye or feel a bead of sweat trail on the side of his face. But that woman has caused his chest to flutter, and he always find himself thinking back to the day he had saved her. If he had been like any other mortal which has sleep as a necessity, he would find himself thinking of you every morning and every night, longing for another chance to meet you again. What has she done to him? He already has to carry the burden of his sins, and now he must endure this painful curse she casted on him?

But it didn’t matter now. She was already long gone, for all he knows, and he doesn’t even know her name.

Xiao already came to accept that she was merely going to fleet away from his mind, a distant memory that his heart will ache every time he remembers her. He had many regrets in his lifetime, and this leaving her behind without knowing her name is one of them.

But it seems to him that Rex Lapis has taken favor of him and has graced his undeserving existence. Xiao had just exterminated a Hilichurl camp getting increasingly close to Wangshu Inn when his ears preened and his pupils dilated – that voice, the same voice that he never thought he’d hear again, was calling out for him again. He did not find the time to dispose of the monsters in a more appropriate location where they will no longer continue their venture towards the inn, and quickly made his way to where he heard her.

When he arrived, it did not take long for him to spot her standing perfectly still in front of him, hands behind her back. His eyes dilated as he took in her familiar form. Her tresses were no longer matted with twigs and mud, the scratches that once marred her skin no longer present, and a smile has replaced the cowering fear that adorned her visage before.

Xiao ignored the increasing heartbeat that drummed against his chest and surveyed the area with a flick of his spear. “There’s no danger.” He remarked after assessing the parameter, his mask dissipating into the night as he returned his gaze back at her.

She rubbed her arm as she averted her eyes from him. “I spent months trying to find you again.” The mortal woman murmured. “When all has failed, I thought back to that night you saved me, and I called – and you came.”

Xiao did not speak another word, but he was afraid that you can hear how loud his heart was racing. He needed to ignore his selfishness, he needed to leave. “If you’re not in any danger, then I’ll be leaving.”

He turned around to do as he said, but his eyes widened when he felt your hand around his wrist.

“Wait, please,” She pleaded, and when he looked over his shoulder, any resolve of leaving her again vanished. She was looking at him with hopeful and vibrant orbs. How can he ever let her down when she’s looking at him like that?

Xiao let out a sigh and turned back around to meet her properly, but her hand never left him. Were you afraid he might disappear as quickly as he did like last time?

“Don’t go.”

“Why not?” Xiao questioned. “If you know anything about an Adeptus, then you understand my duties.”

She bit her lip as he withdrew her hold. Xiao missed the warmth she gave him already. “I know that but . . . ” She trailed off. “ . . . can I . . . at least know your name?”

Xiao did not give her an answer.

“Even if we never meet again, I want to at least know the name of man who saved me.” She mumbled softly. “But I’m afraid if I ever know your name, I’ll never get to think of any other man but you.”

Xiao appraised you, taking in her apprehensive frame. A mortal has fallen in love with an Adeptus? This was preposterous. He saved her months ago, and back then they shared little time together. Too little to gain feelings for him.

But still, he found himself relenting to your wishes.

“Xiao,” He answered. “My name is Xiao.”

Don’t look for another man. I’m here. I’m staying.

That’s how he met his first and last love, ( Your Name ).

Xiao has lived in Teyvat for thousands of years and is knowledgeable of the culture of mortals, one of them being marriage. He had witnessed humans bounding themselves to another, promising to cherish them, protect them, to love them. For Xiao, marriage is something far from disgusting. Although he cannot understand the need for them to be together under an oath, it was undeniable that many great things and opportunities birthed from them.

However, no matter how beautiful it is for them, it will never stop perplexing Xiao. How is it that one can look at another and know that they’re the one? Are they not afraid to be betrayed? Are humans so willing to have themselves get hurt and offer forgiveness for the sake of love? It’s confusing for him.

Not until you came along that it made sense. Every argument, every disagreement, sleepless nights, every sincere apology, every countless forgiveness, every embrace, every kiss - is this what mortals feel? If so, he’ll endure all the hardships of love if it means staying by your side, and he knew that you feel the same.

Unfortunately, Xiao is not one for marriage.

Not that he does not love you - oh Archons, because he did, deeply so - but the consequences of your relationship always hang in front of him.

It’s already a risk to let you in his heart and love someone as sinful as him, but the thought of you bearing his karmic debt terrified him.

What happens if the two of you are bound together, and under a contract that Rex Lapis will surely oversee? Will the demons that torment him sink their teeth on your pure and innocent soul? Will he see the life in your eyes wither as you strive to remain with him? And what if you try to break the contract to escape karma? Will the both of you suffer in karma and the wrath of the rock?

Xiao can’t do that to you. This is one way he can guarantee your safety. It hurts him to know he cannot marry you, and it hurt more when he saw the disappointment and pain in your eyes when he explained himself. But keeping you safe is his top priority. He deserved this punishment, he can’t put it over your shoulders too.

But that didn’t stop Xiao from imagining how your wedding could have been if things we’re a little different.

A small wedding in a place of your choice with only a handful of close friends and families. You’ll wear a gorgeous dress and walk up to where he is with the same smile you wore when he met you for the second time.

As you stand before him, Xiao could only imagine the happiness and contentment he would feel at that time.

He’ll hold you close, hear you laugh, and then he’ll press his lips against yours, sealing you to a promise that everything that he is, and everything that he has, is yours.

He’ll find himself retreating somewhere private. He didn’t want you to see him vulnerable, weak, as he cried for the first time in his life, and for the greatest reason.

He could have a chance of happiness, but he can’t.

It was all a dream.

A dream he will never achieve, a dream of yours that he can never grant.

“Xiao, you’re still awake?”

The man looked away from the moon and looked over his shoulder to see you standing by the threshold leading to the terrace. You were tired, and yet you woke up to tend to him.

“You know I don’t need sleep.”

“But you always lie next to me. What’s wrong? Something bothering you?”

Xiao did not respond, and you didn’t push any further. He adored it how you know when to prod to a subject or not. You know him so well.

After a moment of silence, you walked over to him and sat beside him on the railing. You looked up at the moon, and Xiao slowly placed his head over your shoulder.

He felt at peace.

Xiao closed his eyes, dreaming of a day that will never come when he can marry you without anything holding him back.

KAZUHA

Kazuha can no longer remember how long it has been since he was on the run from the shogunate. The Electro Archon and her subjects are on the hunt for Visions of every single person residing in the walls of Inazuma, and he was one of the few who refused to have their Visions confiscated from them. It seems exiling him from his homeland was no longer sufficient and the said Archon has ordered for every so-called transgressor that they banished to be apprehended and have their Visions forcefully taken from them. It was only his luck that Beidou, and the crew she captained, has taken him under their wing and he has been sailing the seas with them since then.

Has it been months? Days? Or perhaps weeks? Being away from land with nothing but the ocean to take in and his mind seemingly always preoccupied with his doubts and worries has him losing track of time.

In all honesty, he doesn’t remember the last time he stepped on dry land. Perhaps they did, but it was not a memory that has fleeted a long time ago. All he can think about was Inazuma, the threat of being having his Vision taken, and his past he buried deep within the back of his mind.

Beidou must have taken notice of his continuous lackluster attitude and has set sail for Liyue for him to take a break from the seas. This, of course, he appreciated though he insisted Beidou that she did not have to dock just for him to clear his mind.

Back at that time Beidou claimed she knew what is best for him and she should put his trust on him, and with the lack of reasons to refute her statement, Kazuha merely let out a sigh and agreed to land in Liyue.

He has never been to Liyue, or to put it more accurately, he has never stepped foot in in the few times the Crux made their return on Liyue. It wasn’t because he hated it there, but he felt more comfortable and more at home inside the ship. The furthest he has gone was on the docks to help the crew load supplies in their next sail. But now Beidou has encouraged him to leave the ship and explore, and implied being forbidden to come aboard if he refused to do as she says.

When Beidou said she knows what is best for him, maybe she was right. He must admit, even if he was still longing to return to his homeland, Liyue had many sights and delicacies to offer. But the best and most beautiful sight he saw was up on a rooftop when he was resting from hours of mindless meandering in the streets.

He played with a green leaf that fluttered over to him after it has been carried away by the wind from its tree, and he pressed his lips against it to whistle a melody. The tune was buried under the bustle of the city night but it seems that one picked it up from the terrace just below him.

Kazuha saw a girl around his age walk out to the terrace, head moving left and right, as though looking for something. Kazuha did not think much of this behavior assuming she was searching for something else, and he tore his eyes away from her and nonchalantly continued to whistle against the leaf.

“So, that was you who was making that beautiful sound.”

Kazuha casted his gaze down to see the girl on the terrace looking up at him as she leaned against the railing with her arms crossed, a gleeful smile present on her brims. He pulled the leaf from his lips as he regarded her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to – ”

She shook her head, chuckling. “No, no, it’s fine. You can stay there.” She assured, and Kazuha eased on his spot. She stared at the leaf in his hand. “I didn’t know you can make a tune using a leaf.”

Kazuha flashed her a small smile. “It’s something only a few can do. It’s pretty hard to master.”

“And you’re one of those few.” She remarked. Silence prevailed between the two until she spoke again. “Can you play something for me?”

Kazuha was bewildered by her request. It wasn’t common to find a foreigner sitting on the rooftop of her household. One would think that their first reaction should be an accusation of trespassing and a demand for identification, but no. This girl was different, you were different.

Kazuha did not question your request, just as you have not questioned him of his place on your rooftop. Instead, he granted your wish. He pressed the leaf against his lips and blew, a tune of his own composition sounding in the air.

He watched in awe as you raised both your hands to your chest and white particles formed above your palm, creating a shape until it formed and bloomed into an elegant wooden lyre. Without saying anything else, you strum the strings along with his tune, and the people of Liyue beneath their feet are unaware of the small haven the two of them created together.

Kazuha is more than grateful for Beidou for pushing him to go to Liyue. Ever since that night, he has made constant visits to your house. Early in the morning – that’s when Beidou would barge into the barracks and force them out of their beds – he would always be the one out of the door to finish his tasks and leave immediately to visit you, a prominent smile over his face. The crew, of course, has pestered him to tell him of the reason for his constant leaving and he could only let out a sigh of relief when Beidou shooed them away from him and asked them to return to their work. She winked at him right after and whispered, “Go and hurry to your girlfriend.” To which he denied with a shy grumble before making haste to Liyue.

Liyue was brighter than the isolationist Inazuma has become, and one of the reasons Kazuha thought this was you. The Crux was like a family to him, and Beidou was like an older sister to him, but you – he has never felt more soothed than in your presence. You felt like home, and it has been so long since he had felt like he was at home. Seeing you smile, hearing you laugh, seeing how you nod attentively as he talked, your arms embracing him when he opened up to you about his past, the music you played together in perfect harmony even without practice – it was all so surreal.

Kazuha didn’t have to tell you about his growing feelings for you. He knew that you knew.

It started with a shy kiss, and then a longer one, and the two of you found solace in each other’s arms. There was no music playing, and there were no stories shared – just him with his arms around your figure and lips connected with yours. None of you dare say it but your days together were slowly coming to an end, and it won’t be long until the day comes when he has to set sail to visit neighboring nations.

But Kazuha will always come back to you, that he promises.

After a few years of frequent visiting and writing letters to one another, Kazuha has finally decided that it was time for him to propose to you. Beidou - being the supportive big sister she is to him - upon hearing of his plan, gathered her crew to help Kazuha in his objective. Everything from food, drinks, location (they chose the ship), and atmosphere, they provided. As thanks for their dedication and help, they only ask an invitation to his wedding, to which Kazuha replied will surely come even if they did not help.

The crew claimed that they shall be far away as possible from the ship so that the two of you can have your privacy, but Kazuha, and definitely you, as well, heard loud cheering from a short distance followed by a shushing Beidou when you accepted his proposal.

“I thought they said they’d be at Wanmin Restaurant - ”

“To be honest, I didn’t really believe them.”

Unlike the other boys who were hesitant of not seeing the bride for a week until the wedding, Kazuha was actually the one to push this tradition. He disliked it as much as the other boys, but Kazuha loved being able to give you his all. Not being able to see you for a week is a sure way for him to crave for your presence, and once the two of you see each other again, he’ll pour out every love and care for you then.

You were dismayed by this whole arrangement but since it is important to Kazuha, you respected it.

The crew fought for the spot of best man, but in the end, all of them got to be best man. Kazuha did not have the heart to choose one from the crew, so he had to explain to you beforehand that the almost the entire male crew of The Crux are going to be standing with him at the ceremony.

It wasn’t a common occurrence in a wedding but you allowed it. The crew was like his family to him, and if it’s going to make him happy to have them as his best men, who are you to go against it?

At the day of the wedding, Beidou was the one to fret over Kazuha’s appearance. The Anemo user tried to calm her down but after she continually tried to fix his hair for the wedding, he just sighed and allowed her.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be married in just a few hours.” Beidou remarked in the quiet after a while. “To think you were just a teenager when we met you, and our little teenager is a big man now.”

“Nothing’s going to change. I’ll just be married.” Kazuha tried to ease her worries but he knew as well there are going to be major changes. One of being concerning his frequent endeavors with the crew. Once he gets married with you, he’d want to be with you always, to settle with you. But he was so used to the sea, to be living with the crew in a ship. Can he really get used to this coming change?

Beidou let out a sigh. She placed a hand over his head, patting him gently. She would have ruffled his hair but that would waste her effort on making it as presentable as she can.

“Things are going to change, Kazuha.” Stated Beidou, beaming. “And it’s not all bad. Trust me.”

Kazuha nodded, but he was still uneasy. He was ready to give himself to you, but at the same time, he wasn’t ready to leave the crew.

This thought haunted him even in the time of the ceremony. He should be focusing on the wedding but he couldn’t.

He needed to talk to you about this. You need to know what’s bothering him.

Was it possible to feel dread for the future while also looking forward to it?

Because it felt like a gust of wind billowed his direction when his eyes landed on you. Beautiful, you’re beautiful. What else can he say?

Was he really going to marry you? Whatever did you see in him? He was a banished Ronin from Inazuma. There must be some other man more worthy of you.

But you loved him, nobody else.

“Stop gawking at me like that. You’re making me embarrassed.” You murmured, cheeks flushed. He didn’t even notice you standing before him until you spoke.

Kazuha closed his parted lips as he turned away from you. “I . . . uh . . . ” He swallowed. “You look beautiful, ( Your Name ).”

“At least look at me when you say that, Kazu-kun.”

He looked at you, breathing in before speaking. “You look very, very . . . uh, pretty.”

You laughed a little. “You look very, very handsome, Kazuha.”

You took his hands in yours and gazed into his eyes, smiling. “Things are going to change once we get married.”

A pang of uneasiness struck Kazuha.

But what you said next shocked him.

“After this, I can finally be part of the crew and join you on your adventures in the sea!”

Kazuha gawked at you again, blinking.

Everyone invited to his wedding gasped when Kazuha suddenly kissed you out of nowhere in the middle of the ceremony.

Beidou, and the rest of the crew, however, cheered loudly for the two of you.

After the wedding, Kazuha snuck away from the reception for a while. He found a tree from a short distance and sat on the branch, breathing in the cool evening air.

He caught a fluttering leaf and smiled as he gazed at it and recalled how the two of you met.

Things will change, and soon, he’ll be adventuring with his wife in the vast ocean. Oh, he has so many things to show you.

#genshim impact x reader #genshin x reader #venti x reader #kaeya x reader #xingqiu x reader #scaramouche x reader #razor x reader #albedo x reader #chongyun x reader #xiao x reader #kazuha x reader

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archonanqi · 3 years

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consequence / pt ii

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pt. ii of iii

The sky was still dark when you woke with a splitting headache. You blinked the sleep from your eyelids, eyes adjusting to the shadowy silhouettes of furniture around you. This was— one of Wangshu Inn’s rooms? You checked yourself for wounds and fractures; there was a scrape on your knee, but it had been properly dressed and bandaged.

Zhongli.

You had to get Aether and get out. You would have taken any punishment from Zhongli for breaking the contract but Aether— it was clear that Zhongli knew he could get to you through him. Your brother was in danger, too.

Stumbling to the door, you threw it open to meet the stunning Liyue night view. At the altitude of Wangshu Inn, the air was always cold and crisp, and you took a deep breath as you stepped out of the room to come face to face with a pair of familiar, bright yellow eyes.

“Xiao?” The relief you felt was immense. No matter the danger, you’d always been able to depend on the Vigilant Yaksha to back you up in battle. “I’m so glad to see you. You won’t believe this—“

Once you took a better look at Xiao’s face, you trailed off. There was no surprise in his gaze. You had not found him by a stroke of luck; he was here to stop you from leaving.

“I know of your contract with Rex Lapis.” How long had it been since he had last spoken to you in that tone of disdain? “I have helped him uphold countless in the past few millennia. Even you are no exception.”

“Xiao, I didn’t even know what the contract meant,” you pleaded, hope soaring at the flicker in his eyes. “Please, let me leave.”

The Yaksha swallowed visibly, brows knitting together. “No,” he finally said. “Go back to your room. I don’t want to have to fight you while you’re in... this state.”

“You’d fight me here?” You said, for the second time that night. “The civilians—” As you turned to gesture at the staff of Wangshu Inn, you realized that despite the commotion, not one of them was looking in your direction.

“The staff of Wangshu Inn are prepared, as am I,” Xiao said, without so much as glancing in their direction, “to carry out the will of our lord.”

Ah. You were alone here. But still, you stood firm, and watched the resignation dawn in Xiao’s eyes. You had not backed down when Chef Mao told you they were out of Almond Tofu, during your dinner with Xiao three months ago. You had not backed down when three Abyss Mages had you cornered in Lingju Pass; and even as Xiao had slaughtered them, you’d tried to get one last swing in with a tree branch. You would not back down now, and Xiao knew it as well as you did.

“I wish it didn’t come to this,” Xiao said, and you believed him wholly.

He clasped his hand to his face, and when it came away, he was wearing his mask. You supposed that you should feel a little flattered that he thought he had to don his Yaksha mask to fight you, hungover as you were. But before that, you felt worry. You knew full well what the mask did to him, had seen your fair share of aftermaths after a battle had dragged too long.

“Xiao, don’t hurt yourself,” you whispered.

In his eyes, behind the teal glow of his veil, you saw just a flicker of hesitation. But not enough.

Just as you shifted into a defensive stance — the way Xiao had taught you to do during your sparring sessions — there was a movement behind you. The Yaksha looked up over your shoulder, and immediately bowed his head, his mask fading away as quickly as it had come. You turned, even though you already knew what you’d see: Zhongli, pristine and immaculate as ever, his coat carried gently in the wind.

Disappointment in Zhongli’s gaze had always been hard to stomach, but today, it felt like the weight of the world on your lungs. “So she did try to escape, then, before even granting me an audience?” The former Archon asked, every word chilling you to your core. “Thank you for your service, Xiao. You may go now.”

Xiao lifted his head, turning to go wordlessly. Before he disappeared down the stairs, he paused. “What are you going to do to her?”

Zhongli regarded him with a lidded glance. “Only what must be done.”

—

After Xiao’s leave, Zhongli turned to you.

“Do you understand now?” He asked, flicking his hand back in the same slow gesture as he always did when he was telling a long story. You remembered how much you adored listening to the tales of the Archon War. Stories of those he conquered, brought to life through his deep, rich voice. You never thought you’d be among them, one day. “Six thousand years is a long time, even for those who live forever. I know every crack, cave and crevice, every clan, bloodline and family in Liyue. There is no place for you to run.”

You knew what he left unspoken. You had been a part of Liyue for what, one, two years? He had raised it from the earth. Despite all his talk of friendship, you would find no allies here who would, when faced with the choice, defy their archaic lord for you.

Xiao’s betrayal still stung, but in light of the weight of Zhongli’s presence before you, it was all but inconsequential, and wholly unsurprising. The slight shiver that ran down your spine, this time, was not because of the cold night air.

“What did you do to Aether?” is the first thing you managed to say.

“Your brother is safe.” Zhongli assured you. “I’ve had him sent to Bubu Pharmacy for treatment, and Paimon is looking after him.”

The relief you felt was uneasy. Safe— for now, at least.

“Where is he?”

“A location that I have secured, personally. You may see him when we are done here.” Zhongli answered seamlessly. You did not miss the threat that was left unspoken. “Though, he is not the one you ought to be worrying about, right now.”

An amicable departure from Teyvat was but a dream at this point; but maybe if you swallowed your anger, you could get him to leave you alone. Of all the farewells you had imagined, this wasn’t one you hadn’t even imagined would come to pass.

“That was it, right?” You joked weakly, even the pretense of cordiality almost too difficult to maintain, “the Wrath of the Rock? I mean, you literally knocked me out.”

Zhongli studied you carefully, before opening his mouth. “What do you think?” He asked. “ Was that a punishment fitting enough for one who reneged against the God of Contracts?”

“I— I,” You stammered for a little, but stopped once you realized it was futile. Zhongli would exact what punishment he deemed you deserved, and no force in Teyvat could possibly hope to stop him. Defeated, you exhaled deeply. “Would it help my case if I said ‘yes’?”

“No,” Zhongli answered, without hesitation. “Not in the slightest.” There was nothing left of the Zhongli you knew — thought you’d known — in his stone-cold expression.

A festering fear had settled deep within your stomach, rancid and heavy. How arrogant you had been, to think that you could thoroughly understand a being that had lived longer than recorded history, longer than human civilization in some worlds — could you even grasp the very notion of living six thousand years, of spending four thousand fighting a war? The countless bygone friends and foes he must have had to cut down?

How foolish of you to think that you could have outweighed any of them.

“What will it take to keep Aether safe?” You said, dropping your smile. If Zhongli would not budge when faced with the lingering remnants of your friendship, then you would speak to him the only way you knew how to get through to him; with a contract. “I’ll willingly accept any punishment, without a fight, as long as you promise to let him and Paimon go safely afterwards.”

Would Zhongli really… kill you? Even knowing all that you knew of his brutality during the war, it was hard to wrap your head around. You couldn’t breathe.

“Any…?” Zhongli’s huff created a small cloud of condensation in the night air. “It seems I have not taught you enough about the art of negotiation during our journey together. An open contract is a very dangerous thing to place in the hands of your adversaries.“

“I don’t care,” you snapped. Any other time, and you would have loved to hear him lecture, but...“Just tell me you won’t hurt them.”

Zhongli closed his eyes once more, as he always did when presented with a contractual proposal to ponder. Finally, when he had been still so long you’d thought he might have fallen asleep, he crossed his arms. “Very well. I accept the terms of your contract.”

At least, no matter what happened to you, Aether and Paimon would be safe.

“Come, y/n,” Zhongli beckoned with two gloved fingers, “let us continue somewhere more private.” He turned around and began walking, as though he had not a doubt that you would follow him. Well, with the terms that he had over your head, did you really have a choice?

You had been to Wangshu Inn so many times — to complete commissions, to grab a quick lunch, to bring Almond Tofu for Xiao — that you knew the land around it like the back of your hand. It would be so easy to escape on your own; you’d make it to Mondstadt within the night. Determined as Zhongli was, the idea of a diplomatic fallout with Liyue’s neighboring nation would at least make him take pause in his pursuit of you. Right?

Freedom was within your grasp. Behind you, the crickets chirped their hymns into a star-flecked sky.

You owe me big time, dear brother , you thought bitterly to yourself as you followed Zhongli back into his room.

#zhongli #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli #yan!zhong #zhongli fanfic #genshin fanfic #consequence #anqi writes #my writing

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malereader-inserts · 3 years

Text

Let Your Soul Breathe

Fandom: Good Omens Pairing: Aziraphale x Male!Reader x Crowley Summary: Life is suffocating, sometimes you just have to stop and relax yourself. Word Count: 1,355 Warning: Undertones of Blood, Injury, Depression, Self Harm.

The supernatural isn’t really limited just to demons and angels.

You would know all too well about them, from a young age you were an unfortunate son of one of the greatest hunters in Europe. Meaning, that you were to be trained under them. You hated your childhood because you didn’t get much of one.

The moment you were able to know what was wrong and right, you were taught how to handle a blade and how to handle a gun. You were still in school because your mother fought your father that you should have a basic education. She expected the best from you, after all, you came from a very strict household and as an only child - your parents looked to you as continuing the great name.

You excelled in school as well as your parents teaching you each supernatural. You could argue that you had a boring childhood other than the exposure of blood and murder at a young age. As you got to high school, most weekends your dad would take you to hunts to learn about the supernatural physically.

By the age of sixteen, as you were ending high school, you had already made a name for yourself in the supernatural side of life. The kid that was merciless, the kid that had no emotion.

You weren’t shy to kill, you never show any fear if you were caught out in a bad hunt. God wished to hate you but you were one of her dearest creation because after all, God is the only one who really truly see behind close doors.

How you often hate yourself, how you cry to yourself, how you would harm yourself if you did bad that day and your father wasn’t there to give punishment.

Creatures often hide among the shadows and hear how your father abuses you, shouting and smacking you. Even the evillest creature would flinch at the sound of contact and they fear you because of how you respond.

“Thank you sir for correcting me,” You had a dull tone.

When your father died alongside your mother, under mysterious condition, the supernatural had celebrated not for themselves but for you. Because tales had spread that you stood in the woods, unable to move, and actually appreciating the beauty of the woods.

For once, they heard you laugh.

They gave you a break, any monster would hate to admit that they cared a little too much about you.

You continued your education in peace, well, as much peace you could give yourself.

After all, you were still in that mindset that you were a hunter. So, even after excelling in your high school and sixth form, even earning your degree - you were still a hunter at heart.

As you grew up as a lonely man, you stumbled across a demon and an angel - the first to show empathy, well at least from the angel. And from years since you met, they were there pestering you.

Forming a friendship and a bond, eventually, a loving relationship.

They taught you many things, and that you don’t have to shoulder the world. It was almost as if God was giving you a present, forgiveness for the pain you had to endure.

“(Y/n), darling?”

Aziraphale walks into your apartment with Crowley right behind him, next thing he saw was one of your boots barrelling towards him. Crowley caught it effortlessly as Azirpahale had dodged impact.

“Leave me alone.”

They see that you have just returned from a hunt, you were tired and obviously angry. Most hunts, nowadays, were just you sleeping them off with minor injuries. It looks like you managed to cope with a bigger injury you had sustained, but you were in no mood for company.

“Yeah, no,” Crowley responded, throwing the boot to the ground as he grabs Aziraphale’s wrist to follow you to the bedroom.

“Clingy,” You shouted at them, slamming your bedroom door at their faces.

As they open the door, they managed to catch on to your slight muffled moan, telling them that you had jumped on your head as you lie down. Aziraphale sighs, shaking his head as he struts towards you.

“I’m cleaning you up, you cannot be in bed in these filthy clothes.”

“It’s had worst on here.”

“Like what?” Crowley asked.

“Like cu-”

“I think that’ll be enough,” Aziraphale interrupts as he lugs you up into a sitting position, “Crowley, my dear, fetch some clean clothes.”

“Sure thing, angel.”

You rolled your eyes, for a demon Crowley is surprisingly obedient, though you allowed Aziraphale to strip you down. He cringes at your wounds as he held his hand over your body, allowing his miracle to close them up for easy healing.

Aziraphale does not mention the cuts upon your arms, nor he mentions wounds looking like they were self-inflicted upon the thighs, he silently heals them knowing that he wouldn’t be able to miracle away the scars that will be left behind.

Aziraphale hands you to Crowley, who is less gentle than the angel as he dresses you up. Though, he doesn’t miss the chance to give you a boop on the nose and a sweet peck upon your lips.

“Bad hunt?” Crowley asked, getting himself comfy at your side.

“Bad day, bad week, bad month, bad lifetime,” You exclaimed, though there was no anger behind your words anymore, there wasn’t the venom that they were greeted moments before, “I cannot wait for the day I die.”

“Now, don’t be saying that-” Aziraphale scowls at you, but you merely waved him off.

“You often forget that I am just human, I will die eventually. And if not by my own hands than so be it rather a creature of the unnatural.”

“Sweetheart, that’s the depression talking-”

“Then let it talk, let it infest my mind and rot the insides. I rather be dead than live this shit life.”

Crowley gives Aziraphale a pointed look, “Listen, babe, angel doesn’t have the best of words on this situation, he might come off as patronising but he means well.”

You grumbled as you turn your head to not look at your boyfriends, Crowley looks at Aziraphale who motions him to continue to talk.

“But, you shouldn’t be wishing your life away, after all, what is life if not lived at it’s fullest?”

“I never had the opportunity to do so,” You reminded them as Aziraphale placed excited hands upon your knees, making you look at him.

“Then, start now! It’s never to late too allow your soul to breathe. Tomorrow is a new day and I’m sure that the vampires, werewolves, and whatnot can find a new hunter to fight.”

“I can piss them off, entertain them, you know? You should really invite me to your hunts, babe, we’ll have a real good laugh.”

“Crowley, not now!” Aziraphale snaps as you chuckled, “Why don’t you sleep, we’ll be awake to watch over you.”

You were going to argue but there was a look in Aziraphale’s eyes that you did not want to tick off. You sighed as you shuffled down in the bed to lie down. Aziraphale lets out a joyful noise, you now understand why your demon boyfriend can be so obedient because your angel boyfriend can be terrifying.

They sit in silence, waiting to make sure you have drifted off to sleep as Aziraphale and Crowley lie on either side of you. Crowley messing with your hair as Aziraphale had a book on his lap.

“Crowley, dear, do you think he’ll be okay?”

“He’ll be fine, (Y/n) is a strong lad,” Crowley replies, “Plus, he has us two, who better than us to take care of our dearest boyfriend.”

Aziraphale gives the demon a suspicious look as Crowley lazily smiles him off. Aziraphale knows that Crowley is up to something and yet he was somewhat terrified to know what it was.

So, you and Aziraphale pretend that you don’t know why the vampires, werewolves and whatnot are scared of a certain red hair snake demon, though it does fill you with entertainment to Aziraphale’s dismay.

#Aziraphale #aziraphale imagine #crowley x male reader x aziraphale #aziraphale x male reader #anthony j crowley imagine #anthony j crowley x male reader #good omens #good omens imagine #good omens x male reader #x male reader

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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

Text

Alatus' Weakness

Even the strongest, mightiest men carry with them their ultimate weakness. And when it is under the wrong hands, their power won't be enough to prevent them from crumbling... What is it? What was it that the Evil God took hold of that forced him to serve his evil deeds for years?

Pairings -> Alatus x Reader (Xiao)

Word Count -> 1350

Themes -> You won't find happiness here.

Series -> #SojournerSpecials (600 Followers Event)

Warnings -> This is punishment for Xiao forcing me to whale for him. As well as the Oceanid anons. (EDIT: THIS HAS MADE PEOPLE CRY, PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

The Yaksha of the wind dances in fluid whirlwinds as the breeze makes its rounds over the plains, his lightness barely wrinkles the green grass underneath his uncovered feet as the robes he dons flutters behind him.

It was so beautiful, he looked so ethereal.

And when his spear finally settles in a sharp swing, the force manifests into harmless gusts that sweeps the pasture for a second before straightening up again. Alatus had always been an agile dancer. And everyone in the village knows of this.

He offers a slight bow and a smile upon your loud clapping, so giddy of the exclusive performance that you were lucky to witness. It was a treasure that every local wishes to see beyond the battles he fights. Men and women alike yet out of them all it was you who was graced with this blessing.

"Beautiful as always, Alatus!" Your wide smile was infectious and his grin grows the closer he comes to you, arms finding its way around your waist and across your back in a soft hug. The giddiness continues as you turned into a giggly mess from his special affection, reciprocating with a tackle of a hug.

"Did you miss me that much?" He was answered by wordless nuzzles to his chest, making him chuckle and pull you closer.

Alatus was a great and powerful spear dancer, and he had been protecting the village you two reside in ever since. Gods and beings trekked the world commonly and it was too dangerous even for stationary communities. More so for those who lack the Vision to fight in the first place.

He was one, if not the only one capable enough to protect everyone. And many times he would go beyond the parameter to exterminate threats before they became an issue. Most of the time he disappears for a while during this expedition and then return triumphant as the village people greet him and praise him for his hardwork.

But at the end of the day, he settles down in your quiet home where he engulfs you protectively in his arms. There you two would exchange your tales during the span of his expedition, and he would indulge you in a showcase of his dances as compensation for his absence. The highlight of your day.

"There seems to be higher activity in the surrounding territories regarding monsters and Gods," he introduces the topic as he picks up the nian gao with wooden chopsticks, munching the soft treat as you poured a cup of tea to match the snack. "The other villages are asking me to patrol their parameters for a few days to at least clear some of them."

"There's been disturbances around here too," you worriedly chewed at your own snack as you two sat by the veranda of your home, watching the whole of the village from your spot over the cliff. This must be one of the reasons he liked staying here too, an easy access and overseer to the whole area for his duties.

Alatus hums in agreement but continues eating. The way he chews his meal was a telltale sign that there's a worry gnawing at the back of his head. And you had the same worry, except much lighter than his.

The growing tension between the Gods of Teyvat spurs on more turmoil at the news of Celestia's sudden challenge over the archons. And with such offers and desperation, powerless humans and villages had been wiped recently courtesy of the war.

It was a matter that didn't really bother him nor the village, but somehow it came back to him tenfold in multitudes of worry. He has a gut feeling. But Alatus cannot make himself turn away from the pleas of the people that call his name for saving grace.

"Come home soon," your smile snapped him back to reality upon knowing that he wouldn't just leave the other villages behind.

Yet when he left, there was still a gnawing anxiety at the bottom of his stomach.

Alatus for once... had lost his grace for in his hand his spear shakes in unspeakable fear. In front of him beyond the cliff's edge is the blazing ruins of a village he protected for years, day and night diligently. Monsters and men ravaged what's left and he tries to push away the guilt of ignoring them when he rushed immediately to his home.

To where his home should be.

"Alatus," the towering figure turned around to face him and his pupils dilated at the image, muscles flexing to dash when its hand raises in a motion to stop him, tutting mockingly at the warning. "Ah, ah, you wouldn't want them to die like this, would you?"

The being of pure evil had your unconscious form in its arms, a fight evident on your bruised and cut form as blood trickles from your forehead to the earth beneath. And on your head, the source of the wound, is a crown of thorns. He fights the urge to cry and vomit at the state you were in, at the state he could have prevented if he'd just STAYED.

"Please," his broken voice ghosted a smile on the God's face, "Please leave them alone."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Alatus' heart sinks at the refusal with his gaze unfocusing at the difference in power. "After all, they're the one I wanted in the first place, everyone else is just collateral damage."

From that point forward, to preserve the little life force you have, Alatus was under the grasp of the evil god. Under his command he razes the villages he once protected, eating the dreams of the humans that only wish to live in peace. His hands of grace grips his spear with the stains of blood as he kneels in front of the evil God, its name he didn't bother to remember anymore at this point.

It smirks at him while over its hand floats a cube only a few inches bigger. Your cell, where you're cooped up with only a glow of deep blue indicating your existence within it. When he misbehaves he hears cries of agony from it, when he does very satisfactory he even gets to hold it but only that.

The years of painful service had wiped off his smile and most of his memories. Alatus had already forgotten your voice and your face at this point, only the humans and beings he had killed comes to his memories.

Soon after, he has only known the cube to hold something dear to him, a weakness that is a precious one he could not risk. When he tries to remember, he's reminded of a vague visage and a sweet taste on his tongue. If he could cry now he would. It was one of the only good things in his mind now even tho its details continue to ebb away with his horrific deeds.

And finally, like a light that shines through the canopy of the overhead trees, a being mighty enough to contend his evil master comes down to end his suffering.

Rex Lapis, the Geo Archon, the one the evil god desperately tries to overthrow died in his hands.

It is done, all of it. No more innocent blood should stain his hands. "The cube this god possessed is a cell." What should he do now? There was no other place to come back to, maybe the You that resides in the cube had any ideas, to start over. That sounds like a good idea.

"Alatus, was it?" His head slowly picks up from the blank stare it had on the ground.

"Yes, Rex Lapis?"

"Do you know of the one who resides within this cube?" There was a hesitance in Rex Lapis' voice that passed through him.

"They are someone that I know."

"It seems... that human... has perished 200 years ago in this cell."

Alatus, like that last day in a ruined village, had lost his grace when he collapses to the ground. His weakness and his hope both gone.

Seems to me my writing has been short lately

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @kookieyachi @struggljng @bunniesrorange @anormalguyreader

#genshin impact #Xiao #genshin impact x reader #Xiao x reader #exile.flower #sojourner specials #Angst #gender neutral #for the first time I am sorry #genshin impact oneshot #welcome home Xiao :))

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