#i mean she refuses to hand over the heads to the companions so they can cure themselves

[aerynwrites]

Scars

Halsin x afab!Reader

A/N: some friends and I were talking in discord and one of them gave me permission to use this wonderful idea! I hope y’all enjoy ❤️

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: major insecurity in reader regarding scars, talks of self hatred, self depreciation, all is comforted tho, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, partial nudity, fluff, kisses, love confessions.

The battles are done, the enemies defeated, and yet it feels like the work doesn’t quite end there.

This battle was harder than the rest, bending and breaking all of you more than expected. So much so that blood still oozes and bones still need mending despite the healing spells Shadowheart was able to bestow upon your group. Even her magic was depleted leaving her with the the rare wounds to show for it.

Return to camp has become a habitual affair, those that are able, help the companions wounded before everyone returns to their tents for the night.

You, however, slink off on your own from the get go, avoiding the healing hands in favor of your own mediocre care.

It’s better for you this way. Safer. At least mentally. The small river a short distance from camp has become your solace. Far enough away to seclude you but close enough that if danger were to arise, help would be close by.

You’ve come here after most battles, rinsing off in the clear water before tending to your own wounds as best you can, too ashamed to ask anyone for help - too scared to bare yourself before them.

Especially since a certain druid joined your team.

Before Halsin had come along you’d been able to slip away with no questions asked. Every now and then Shadowheart would tease you about how she could get the job done quicker but it would end there. Now…now it’s like you can feel Halsins stare each time you leave camp, his offers of help being brushed off with a flippant wave of your hand.

You enjoy his company. More than enjoy it really - so much so that a small crush has started to develop for the larger man. A part of you has longed to accept his offers of help, longed to open up to him in a way you have to no one else.

Yet, each time, the acceptance dies on your tongue and you tuck your tail and run. Just like you always have.

You sigh as you approach the waters edge, stripping down to nothing but your under things in order to sit on a rock submerged below the water enough that you can rinse away the muck of battle in order to assess the damage.

It’s the same process as always. Rinse off, tend to any wounds then dress and head back to camp. But tonight proves more difficult.

You have more injuries than normal, which means more stitching - a task proving difficult due to what you assume is a larger wound on your back. You’d taken a nasty blow to the shoulder towards the end of the skirmish and now it aches terribly and refuses to move the way you need in order to tend to yourself properly.

With a wince, you reach behind you with your good arm and try to feel for the wound, hissing and snatching your hand back when it brushes over the edge of what seems to be a nasty gash.

You’ll never be able to reach that on your own.

Muttered curses slip past your lips, as you turn to focus on the things you can fix instead. However, just as you move to tend to the shallow claw marks on your arm the all too close snap of a twig startles you.

Your head whirls to look behind you, and your eyes widen in mortification to see Halsin standing several yards away.

“Halsin! What are you doing-“ you cut yourself off as you reach for your shirt on the bank behind you, desperate to cover up before he can see anymore.

Before he can think you’re hideous.

The thought is fleeting, but drives your actions all the same.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you,” Halsin finally speaks, holding out placating hands, as if dealing with a scared animal.

His words stall your movement just long enough for you to notice that the large elf isn’t looking at you. Instead his head is turned off to the side as if he doesn’t want to intrude on your privacy if it’s not wanted.

Your shirt hangs limply in your hands before you gather it to your chest. “What are you doing here?”

With his head still turned away, Halsin clears his throat. “I know you prefer to tend to your injuries yourself, but I saw the wound on your back when you all returned from camp. I only came to offer my help - and if you refuse I will turn now and leave you in peace.”

The air is silent as his words settle between you, and you open your mouth to give your typical refusal before stopping short.

You do need help. There’s no way you’ll be able to take care of the injury on your own. Not properly anyways. And infection is dangerous - even with healers around to help.

You let out a soft sigh, turning back to face the water, your shirt still clutched tightly to your front like some sort of lifeline.

“That’s - yes. I can’t…I can’t reach it on my own,” you admit softly, trying not to quake in shame as you hear his soft footfalls approach.

The thud of his boots in the grass and quiet splash of water is the only thing that lets you know how close he is, your eyes still trained on the river in front of you.

Soon you feel a presence at your back, and Halsins voice meets your ears once more.

“May I touch you?”

The question is simple, yet it ignites a bitterness you hadn’t realized was there. “You have to in order to treat me, don’t you?”

If Halsin reacts to your snappy reply, he doesn’t say anything, instead you feel him settle onto the rock behind you, water rippling between your bodies as a gentle hand rest on your shoulder

“It is ideal, yes, but I will not force my help upon you if you do not wish it.”

His breath is warm against your neck, and you can’t suppress the shudder that runs through you. Shame wells in you again, but this time at yourself. He’s just trying to help and you’re letting your own insecurities - your own self hatred spew at the wrong person.

“I’m sorry, yes - it’s fine. I’m not…used to this is all. I don’t like people seeing me like…like this,” your admission is a soft, broken thing, almost lost amongst the babbling water if it weren’t for Halsin’s close proximity.

He lets out a low hum just as you feel the unfamiliar warmth of healing magic along your back, seeing the golden glow from the corner of your eye.

“A good healer would never shame those needing his help,” he tells you, the hand on your shoulder giving you a reassuring squeeze. “My aid is available whenever you require.”

You shake your head, a scoff slipping past your lips. “That’s not…thank you.”

Your initial words die on your lips, the true reason for your hesitance unwilling to reveal itself so soon. And if Halsin notices your deflection he doesn’t say anything, instead he lets silence fill the air between you until finally that comforting warmth disappears from your skin, the glow dissipating.

“Is there anything else I can help with?”

The automatic refusal sits on your tounge once more but you stop yourself, instead moving to hold up your other arm, showing him the claw marks that have already started to scab.

“Of course,” he says and you can hear him shift behind you. “Would you be comfortable facing me?”

You nod, and for the first time you find yourself telling the truth. For the first time in as long as you can remember you feel some semblance of safety with someone seeing you like this.

Slowly you turn to face the druid, finally letting the shirt you were holding drop from your grip, tossing it back to shore. You still have your underwear on, and you’re sure the man before you had seen worse.

Once you’re settled, you find yourself fave to face with Halsin for the first time tonight, and the first thing you notice is his smile.

It’s a tiny thing, small and reassuring and kind. An emotion you’re not used to seeing in this state of undress.

He gently takes your arm in his hand and applies the same treatment as before. Magic emits from his palm, wrapping your arm in small tendrils of golden light as the healing warmth envelops you once more.

“Will there be scars?”

The question falls from your lips before you can stop it, and you watch as Halsin’s brow furrows.

“This one should leave minimal scarring, if any at all. The creatures claws did not dig deep. But the wound on your shoulder was…” he pauses. “Even magic cannot overpower nature at times. It will most likely leave a mark,” he smiles again, “but you do not seem a stranger to those.”

His words cut deep, hitting you where you know he doesn’t mean too. But your shame, your insecurity rears it’s ugly head again, and you yank your arm from his grip - the magic dispelling as his touch does.

“You don’t have to be an ass about it,” you hiss, moving to stand uncaring of your half healed wound, or the way you teeter on unsteady feet.

“Wait,” a strong hand reaches to capture your own before you can leave. “I meant no offense, truly.”

His words cause you to pause, and you reluctantly turn to look down at where he still sits in the water. His smile is gone, lips downturned and eyes pleading.

“Then what did you mean if not to make fun of my disfigurement - of the very things I hate most.”

Halsin stands to join you, eyes searching your own until he has his feet beneath him and then your hands clasped in his own.

“I did not think it was something you felt ashamed of or I would not have made the jest. I apologize for not treading more carefully but…” he pauses again, weighing his words. “Your scars…they are nothing to be ashamed of.”

You want to laugh, can feel it bubbling up in your chest. A bitter, nasty little sound that wants to make itself known. But you choke it down, the weight of his words helping you to do so.

“But they’re…ugly. Hideous. I’ve heard it enough throughout my life that…it must be true.” Your words are broken, reflecting exactly how you feel inside. How you’ve felt for so long.

Quickly a hand comes up to cradle your cheek, thumb wiping away tears you hadn’t even realized started to fall.

Halsins mouth is set in a thin line, eyes serious as he guides you to look at him.

“Whoever whispered those lies into your ears deserves a fate worse than the Oak Father can give,” he tells you, eyes falling down to take you in entirely. “Nature may be beautiful, but it is far from perfect - and sometimes it is far from merciful.”

Slowly, he takes drops his hand from your cheek, instead taking your hand in his and guiding your arm upwards. He uses his other hand to begin tracing the scars that cascade across your skin, some small and some large - all with different stories.

His fingers are gentle, barley a whisper on your skin as they travel upwards towards your shoulder and eventually he turns you to face away from him again, his fingers continuing their journey down your back.

“Scars are a part of one’s life, just as nature intended. They tell the story of where life has taken you, of where you’ve been.”

His breath ghosts against your shoulder and a shiver runs through you as his lips ghost over the scar of the wound he just healed.

“Some may have more than others, but that just means their stories are easier to read,” he comes around to your front again, looking down at you with a reverence you’ve never seen before.

“Would you look upon my face and call me hideous for the scars I bear?”

Your heart leaps into your throat, eyes widening. “No! Of course not, you’re…I think you’re…beautiful.”

Halsin smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Then why can you not show yourself the same kindness?”

“I-I don’t know. I’ve never…thought about it like that.” You say honestly, eyes casting downwards.

Halsin quickly redirects your attention, bringing up his arm and removing one of his bracers, showing yet another scar. It’s white and faded with time but you can tell it was from a terrible wound that was never treated properly.

“I received this one early in my youth. I thought myself a proper druid, ready to take on even the toughest foes. However, a displacer beast was quick to show me otherwise. I was left with a scar and a lesson learned, encouraging me to not only work hard to attune with nature and its magic but to step back and think before charging head first into a situation.”

His words are wise, and you find yourself studying the scar with curiosity rather than disgust as you have with your own.

The next while continues on like this, Halsin slowly showing you his scars and telling the stories behind them. Eventually you both end up sitting on the bank to dry as the stories continue. And eventually, he gets you to open up too - staring with small mundane scars and stories before eventually revealing the scars you hated most and what led to them. Except…as the night goes on, you find the hatred giving way to nostalgia. Some of them came from memories that make laughter bubble in your chest. Like the time an old childhood friend wanted to try to knock an apple from your head with an arrow but instead left you with a scar on your temple and a fear of inexperienced archers. Or the time you had slipped in the river trying to catch frogs with that same friend and gained a scar on your knee.

Another pleasant story had just finished and Halsin smiled at you, eyes crinkling at the corners in the way you’ve come to admire.

“See, your scars, no matter how much you may detest them, tell your story - each one a different page.” Slowly he takes your hand in his own, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “And I would be happy to know each and every one if you’ll let me.”

His words make butterflies erupt in your stomach and heat rush to your cheeks as you nod.

“It might take a while,” you gesture to yourself, “there’s…lots of pages.”

If it’s even possible, his grin widens. “All the better - it just means more time spent with you.”

You move before you can think, acting on what little bit of courage has gathered in your chest as you lean towards him and press a quick kiss to his lips. You move to retreat, just in case you have read the signs wrong. But a warm hand comes up to rest at the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he kisses you back.

His lips are warm and gentle against yours and you feel like you might melt into a puddle right here. But your elation is cut just short as Halsin pulls away, gazing at you happily.

“You are beautiful,” he says softly, “enough to rival nature itself. Please come to me if you ever need to be reminded of that.”

Suddenly bashful, you give him a small nod before leaning into him again, but this time just to rest your head on his shoulder as your arms slip around his middle. Halsin returns the embrace, strong arms slipping around you and cocooning you in a comforting warmth.

You still have a long way to go, but with Halsin at your side…the journey might be a little more bearable.

#halsin x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 halsin #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #halsin

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Undetered.

Continuation of Unrequited.

Pairing: Arlecchino x Reader x Furina (Genshin).

Word Count: 1.1k.

TW: Obnoxious Sapphic Pining, Lesbian Melodrama, and Spoilers for the Fontaine Story Quest. Live Dove: Tender and Sweet.

Truly, you were fortunate to have such a persistent suitor.

And, truly, Arlecchino was lucky to be so desperately in love with someone who so often left their windows unlocked.

Lady Furina – or, rather, Miss Furina now – might not have had the limitless means of an archon, but her manor was still sizable enough to leave convenient gaps between patrolling guards. Vaulting the stone gate was child’s play, climbing to the second floor a task that would’ve been easily passed off to one of her less capable subordinates, remaining unseen as she worked a dagger between the glass pane and its wooden frame until the mechanism gave and she could slip into your bedroom an art she’d perfected over decades of careful practice. She never expected to use her talents for a matter so personal, but still, expertise couldn’t be denied.

Although Furina’s burdens weren’t quite as heavy as an opera star as they’d been as an archon, you still took care of her affairs dutifully – ever the loyal companion despite your favored idol having been proved false. Even now, in the dead of night, you were chained to your desk, your fingertips stained with ink and your quill abused to the point of dullness. It took a moment for you to take notice of the draft, to straighten your back and glance blearily in her direction, but whatever exhaustion stole your attention from her seemed to disappear the moment you met her eyes. You scrambled to rise, to call for your guards, but she was already closing the distance between you, already trapping you against the edge of your desk, an arm caging you in on either side. Too breathless to spare a proper greeting, she took your hand in her own and held it to her chest. If she had a heartbeat, you might’ve been able to hear it racing. “My love, my light,” You opened your mouth, undoubtedly preparing one of the dismissive platitudes you so often offered her, but just this once, she refused herself the pleasure that was listening to your voice. Time was precious, tonight, and she couldn’t afford to be so indulgent. “I’m leaving for Snezhnaya at dawn, and I will only dare to ask this once—” She paused, forced herself to breath. “Come with me.”

Your eyes remained wide and horrified. “Lord Arlecchino.” And then, after a short lapse, “You’re in my bedroom.”

“If you must serve a god,” she went on, unfazed by your shock. “Then serve me. I know you think you’ve found a purpose in Furina, but there is nothing in the world she can give you that I can’t. There’s nothing she does for you that I’m not willing to.” She raised your hand to her mouth, her lips grazing over your knuckles. “You don’t have to love me. All I ask is to be able to pretend you might, one day.”

It was your turn to manage a ragged inhale, now, to draw yourself out of her hold with a quick shake of your head, a dry swallow. “You can’t—” You started towards the door, then thought better of it, taking to pacing as you glared daggers towards the carpeting. “You cannot be here. You have to leave, and you have to make sure no one sees you.”

“I’m not afraid of a few guards,” she cut in. “If I had to fight a thousand men for your hand, I’d draw my sword without a second thought.”

“You don’t understand. She thinks I don’t know, but—” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “She writes these— these fictions, and if she finds that you’ve broken into her estate in the middle of the night wearing—” You gestured vaguely to her, or more specifically, to the pitch-black bodysuit she usually wore to her less scrupulous encounters. “—that, I’ll have to travel far past Snezhnaya before I ever hear the end of it.”

With an airy chuckle, she found her way back to your side. As gently as she could, she took you by the arm, and when you failed to protest, drew you into a delicate embrace. “What are you afraid of, dear?”

You slackened against her chest. “I… I honestly don’t know how to explain it,” you admitted. “It’s just, ever since you first came to Fontaine, she’s been inf—”

This time, you were interrupted by the door to your bedroom slamming open, your mistress appearing above the threshold – already posed with one hand on her waist and the other curled around the handle of a mahogany cane, her eyes shut and her smile wide. “Teyvat’s brightest star has returned!” She declared herself with a turn on her heel – a dramatic flourish worthy of a retired archon. “You would not believe how well rehearsal went, there’s already a—”

Her eyes flickered op, and whatever she meant to tell you died on her tongue as her gaze fell onto Arlecchino. Immediately, you wrenched yourself out of Arlecchino’s arms, rushing towards Furina. “My lady, it’s not—"

“Save your excuses.” Her voice was low, her tone steely. Furina posed no threat to you, much less to her, but Arlecchino still had to temper the urge to step in front of you – if only out of some long buried, sickeningly knightly instinct. “I can see what’s going on.”

A beat passed in silence, then another. Ultimately, Arlecchino took it upon herself to break it. “…you can?”

“For exactly what it is.” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, gasping sharply. “My greatest foe, here to use my closest confidant against me. I will not allow it! Whatever you plan to do with them – let me take their place. No matter what you plan to take – my mind, my soul, my body, I insist that you take it from me!”

Her rambling went on, but Arlecchino diverted her attention, sparing you a glance out of the corner of her eye. “She’s got a bit of a crush,” you whispered, smiling apologetically. “This is just how she behaves when she’s nervous.”

Arlecchino’s looked back to Furina. Upon closer examination, her cheeks were flushed, her movements erratic. As she described the torture she would go through for your sake in truly graphic and well-imagined detail, Arlecchino cleared her throat. “With as little respect as possible,” she cut in. “You’re not the one I’m here for, Furina.” She took up your hand, intertwining her fingers with your own and falling to one knee. You pursed your lips, but didn’t protest, content to let the gesture stand – if only for the sake of your mistress. “It’s your confidant who has my heart, despite how callous the hands I’ve entrusted it to may be.”

“But, my lady, my loyalty is with you.” For the first time, Arlecchino watched your expression wither. Your worry – not for your mistress’ safety, but purely for her happiness – would’ve been touching, if her selfishness hadn’t been the cause of your concern. “And… my love, as well. If you’d care to accept it.”

It was a pitiful confession, pale in comparison to even the meekest of hers, but it seemed to be enough. Furina took a moment to examine you, to evaluate Arlecchino where she kneeled. Slowly, she straightened herself, squaring her shoulders. “If that’s the case,” she began, finally, taking on an air that could be easily mistaken for dignified. “Then as the former sovereign of your nation and the mistress of this estate…”

She raised a hand, a near radiant grin painting itself across her lips as she encompassed you both in one sweeping gesture.

“I demand a threeway!”

#woman loving wednesday #on thursday #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x you #furina x reader #furina x you #furina x arlecchino #arlefuri #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x furina

[sweetainwen]

ᴜɴᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴsɪɢʜᴛ [WANDERER/SCARAMOUCHE]

Summary: the creator just wanted to find the reason for that system error, but she had brought with her an unwanted insight into the game itself, causing a dangerous and unexpected collapse within him.

Pairings: yandere!Scaramouche/Wanderer x fem!OC (you can think of her as Y/N)

Genre: sagau, yandere!au, isekai!au, futuristic!au, sci-fi!au.

Warnings: jealous!wanderer, fluff, angst, d^aths (no blood tho), wanderer losing his mind, noncon kissing.

SUMERU ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS

I STARTED WRITING THIS BEFORE THE FONTAINE RELEASE, SO IT'S NOT PRESENT

THE WANDERER'S NAME IS THE ONE I CHOOSE (IT MEANS "LIGHT", "RADIANCE")

Word count: 12k+

A hand gently, lightly brushing his hair. The humming of a sweet, soothing tune tickling his ears. A smile, a face, a calm voice and muffled words.

His eyes struggled to focus.

Everything was blurry, but he could catch those details of the one who was tenderly lulling him.

She was moving her lips, she was talking. but he did not understand. He was still groggy. Nevertheless, he sensed it.

It was home.

“Here, your food.”

He snapped his eyes open, staring at the bowl in front of him before looking up at the arm holding the item and finally at the person sitting to his left on a medium tree trunk.

The Wanderer saw her give him a surprised look, blinking.

“Oh, sorry, did you fall asleep?”

He let out a grunt, almost snatching the bowl out of her hand and spilling out its contents, causing her to gasp slightly.

“My, how grumpy,” she snickered amusedly. “It seems like I'm putting you through torture. You can't call me a bad cook, big hat guy.”

He took the spoon between his fingers, sighing annoyed at the way he had been called for the thousandth time, “Quit with that name.”

“I would if I had a real name to call you by,” she shrugged with a smirk on her face, the spoon playing with the food in the bowl. “But since you won't tell me, I had to give you one. It suits you, doesn't it?”

Her eyes were fixed on his hat at that question, and the Wanderer preferred to ignore it, causing her to put on a feigned pout.

She took a bite of her lunch, "Is this how you treat your travel companion?"

“You are not.”

“But we are traveling together to Sumeru!”

“You have decided to join. Without my consent,” he reminded her, his gaze now on her.

“You didn't refuse though.”

This time her sullen face was genuine.

He stared at her without arguing back, the impulse to leave her there on the spot taking over. However it dissipated shortly after the lively gleam in her eyes struck him.

Again.

“Stop talking and eat up. We need to get back on the road.”

He brought his gaze back to the food, but he could feel the young woman's victorious smile.

She was truly a whirlwind in perpetual motion. She got into constant trouble between hilichurls, treasure hoarders, and even fatui.

It was better to call her a loose cannon.

That was just how he had met her several days before, though the hilarious part was that the hoarders were running away from her.

And he even ended up in the middle of their battle when those bandits had tried to use him as a shield.

It had been a scene comical enough to almost make him sneer.

And that was when she proclaimed herself as his travel companion, since they had to go the same way.

“Have you gone freaking nuts?” he blurted out with crossed arms.

She blinked before putting on a huge smile, “Why not?”

“I could kill you too.”

“You don't seem like a bad guy at all, hat guy," she shook her head, stretching her hand toward him and eyes twinkling like stars. “I'm Clara. No last name, just Clara. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

And he had let her come with him.

He felt a kind of force drawing him toward the young woman. He could not respond in any other way to her gestures and words than with indulgence.

And it irked him that it was no problem for him.

Those eyes on him now accentuated the annoyance he had been feeling for the past few days.

As a result, he put into action what he thought whenever he was stared at intensely by her before continuing on his journey.

A movement of his hand was enough to create a vortex that surrounded the young woman and carried her away from him.

The gasp of surprise and words of displeasure never failed to be heard.

But she always managed to return and take him wherever she wanted to go.

Such as booking a room at an inn for the night.

“Using your element to get rid of me is completely pointless. You are perfectly aware that I'd be back on my feet in no time,” Clara sneered at him, sitting on the windowsill with one leg toward her chest as he lay on the bed far from the open window.

“And you acknowledge the fact that I could harm you with that.”

She giggled in response, and he saw that particular glint in her eyes again that if he could lose his breath, it would have happened by now. The smile that followed it made the picture even more vivid.

“You would have already done what you had to do, Hikaru.”

He frowned, astonishment at hearing that name, “What?”

“Oh. Calling you big hat guy all the time doesn't seem appropriate, and since you won't tell me your name, I decided to give you a real one. Why?” She brought her arm on her knee before resting her chin on it. “You don't like it?”

“Why that name?”

This time, the smile she showed him was a sweet one, devoid of any malice.

“Because you remind me of how a person can emanate their own light, and head towards the end,” she explained in a soft voice, her face now turned up to the night sky. “Like a bright star high in the sky.”

Silence filled the room.

The Wanderer did not know what to answer, and he did not want to answer. The name said so lightly, but with meaning, was the same one the traveler had given him.

It was so strange.

“Although... these stars and this sky seem to have something wrong with them.”

The Wanderer sat on the edge of the bed, confused by the sudden change of subject, “Wrong how?”

He watched carefully as her expression became thoughtful, almost serious, absorbed in finding an explanation.

“It's as if ... you want to go one way, but you are pushed in another. Determined to follow that set thought of yours, but it gets diverted, and you don't know whether to continue or not. A false sense of control. A purpose-built hope.”

She went back to look at him. And the feeling he got from it was totally different.

She seemed to be observing him, seeking something deep within him. Like an astrologist reading your future.

“Well, it's probably just my mindless reasoning," she shrugged, her facial features softening. “I'm going to go to sleep now. Good night, Hikaru.”

And as she got up and headed for her bed, that feeling vanished along with her no longer being in his line of sight.

He lay back down again, confused for the umpteenth time by their interactions. There was definitely a double meaning in what she had said, and he even began to believe that it had some connection to the reason for her journey to Sumeru.

And at that point, after days and nights together, he was wondering: what was she looking for?

Everything was dark, he could see nothing. He could only hear murmurs and noises.

But then there was a gentle touch, his hair being tousled by her hand.

All went quiet, and a faint, sweet chuckle echoed in that darkness before making way for a soft, muffled voice.

He felt it. Deafening and overpowering. That strange feeling.

“You're such a good boy.”

Like it was home.

He snapped his eyes open, and the first thing he saw was Clara’s surprised and slightly worried face.

“Is everything all right?”

Disoriented, he tried to grasp the situation. One of her hands was at the side of his head, while the other was in his. He couldn’t blink.

And Clara, surely noticing his inquisitive look, was quick to explain.

“I saw you stirring in your sleep. I thought you were having a nightmare so I tried to wake you up, but you grabbed my hand,” she showed him their intertwined hands. “Then I tried to soothe you with caresses and reassuring words. And it worked.”

She gave him a smile, but he said nothing. He only stared at her.

Clara tilted her head slightly to the side at that reaction, not understanding what else he wanted to know. Or he probably didn't believe what she had told him.

She did not give it much thought.

When Clara felt his grip loosen, she gently freed her hand from his, standing up.

“I brought your breakfast. It’s on the bedside table. Eat with no rush, I’m going downstairs.”

And she walked on, closing the door behind her.

The Wanderer sat at the edge of the bed and sighed deeply, his eyes going to the tray with his breakfast mentioned by Clara.

He had been experiencing those moments for days now. It was beyond annoying.

Dreams that showed scenarios that then affected him emotionally and psychologically when he woke up. Not just any scenes, but of himself in situations that seemed familiar despite the fact that he had never actually experienced them.

Memories.

It was also strange and impossible. Because he was a puppet. He could not sleep, consequently neither could he dream. However, he was doing both, and he was unaware of how he was doing it.

What was he to expect now? That he would no longer have to pretend that he had to eat?

Of one thing he was sure though. It had all started after the arrival of the one he was now watching chatting and giggling with an inn employee outside the inn after leaving the room.

He sensed it. That greater force pushing him back toward her.

Uncontrollable and domineering.

And another emotion mixed with it. An emotion so strong that he wanted to rip off the head of that young man standing too much close to her.

Instead, he moved closer, catching their attention, and with a movement of his fingers, he made a vortex appear around the young woman that dragged her away from the guy, leaving both of them stunned and confused.

And after throwing a glance that made the unfortunate man shudder, he went behind the whirlwind with Clara rolling her eyes.

He just sneered, feeling a little better. Clara huffed after being released far from the inn, adjusting her disheveled clothes and walking toward the direction they had come from.

Knowing her intentions, he stepped in front of her and before she could even open her mouth to argue, he revealed the object of interest and threw it at her, watching as she tried hard not to drop it.

“Your bag,” he informed her, putting a hand on his hip.

She just shot him a glare, her eyes almost twitching.

“What am I surprised about? Your social skills certainly can't improve in a snap of the fingers,” she muttered displeased, fixing her shoulder bag over one shoulder and checking the contents for possible breakage. “Be more careful when holding other people’s things! And stop frightening people for no reason at all! Poor guy was praying that he wouldn't end up in pieces.”

He did not speak, resuming his walk as if he had heard nothing.

“Ignoring my words, are you?” she gave up, going after him.

“Just a little while and we will arrive at our destination,” was what he communicated instead.

He suddenly felt himself grabbed by the arm, almost causing him to lose his balance, and caught her radiant face a few inches away from his.

He could tell he had had a heart attack at this.

“Really?! Finally! Then we must hurry, I can’t wait to get there!”

He frowned, trying to break free from her grasp, but was taken aback by her sudden jerk forward before she started running and dragging him with her.

She was too enthusiastic for his liking, a child in an adult's body. Hopping here and there like a rabbit with a goofy smile and sparkling eyes through the streets of Sumeru.

He felt like a nanny and couldn't say he was pleased about it.

“Sumeru is just as it was portrayed to me. I love it!”

“Your elation over a city is quite childlike. I could swear I'm dealing with a child.”

She hopped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks and puffing out her cheeks, “And you’re too edgy and grumpy for my liking. Change your mood when you’re with me. I won’t tolerate a gloomy atmosphere.”

“You’re such a-“

“Cute, lovable, little person? I am, thanks for noticing that, Hikaru.”

She stuck out her tongue at him before a smile spread across her face, and he grimaced at what he called her antics. Realizing the presence of the god of wisdom coming toward them with her lips upward instead made him roll his eyes.

“I take great pleasure in seeing that you have finally found yourself a friend.”

That sweet, little voice made Clara turn around, and was taken aback as soon as she saw who was before her.

The Wanderer placed one hand on his hip, shaking his head at her words, “You shouldn’t.”

Nahida slightly giggled, shifting her focus on the young woman by his side, conscious of how she struggled to conceal her astonishment and nervousness in her presence.

“I’m- I’m honored to make your acquaintance, Dendro Archon! I’m… I’m Clara!”

“Very delighted to meet you, Clara.” She almost cooed at her reaction. “I’m hoping he’s not causing you any distress.”

She gesticulated, eyes wide open, “Oh! Of course, he isn’t! Our traveling proceeded smoothly! Not one person was the victim of his aggressive look or word!”

The Wanderer gave her a look and Clara pressed her lips together after the gaffe she had made.

The little Archon cocked her head to the side, entertained by their interaction. But the most interesting behavior was that of the former balladeer, somehow influenced by the young woman to be more calm and condescending.

“You seem to get along pretty well.”

The duo looked at her, baffled. Before they could comment, the clatter of rapidly approaching wheels against the ground alerted the young man.

His hand was quick to rest on her hip, bringing her closer to himself and thus preventing her from being run over by the wooden cart.

The man carrying it apologized several times under Hikaru’s grim gaze, and Clara and Nahida’s surprised eyes before going on his way.

Clara thanked him and, moving slightly away from him, turned to Nahida with a curious look, “There is a lot of movement around. Is there any celebration going on?”

“A festival. Would you like to partecipate?”

Her eyes sparkled, “Can I really?”

“There is no prohibition on this,” Nahida giggled. “Everyone is welcome. With Hikaru's company, it will be easier to integrate.”

“Excuse me?” his eyebrow shot up.

“She’s not familiar with Sumeru. Consequently, someone who is should be her guide.”

It wasn't the beaming face and the implied order of the Dendro Archon, it was Clara's eyes filled with expectation and eagerness to witness a common joy that dragged him through the stalls ― one of which she had almost ended up being scammed and if it hadn't been for her stopping him, he would have probably literally blown up every one of his pieces for sale and the seller himself ― and ultimately among the people moving to the beat of the music.

But he had stood on the sidelines, leaning against a tree and watching as she laughed and got involved with the locals. On her head the hat she had snatched from him.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

Her face that showed eyes like sparkling gems filled with life, red cheeks, and lips fully spread in a joyful smile.

She was some sort of flower in the midst of the desert. You found it strange that it was there and at the same time you thought it was wonderful to see it there.

It led you to get closer and stand there admiring it. To cup your hands at its sides and hide it from any intruder.

A sight that you wanted only yours to witness.

And the way he was thinking irked him.

His ears sensed a shift in the air, and Hikaru was able to quickly catch the hat Clara had thrown at him with one hand.

“Guess you’re not fond of festivals. Or should I say people in general?” she remarked, moving to his side and placing her elbow on his shoulder. “Oh, look! I can touch your shoulder even like this!” she added in mock surprise.

He didn't speak, but Clara saw him raise his arm slightly and form a small swirl of air from his hand. She stepped back just far enough not to be blown away with her hands in surrender ― although she didn't think he would really do that.

She tried not to laugh, but it was impossible.  

And it was in that instant that Hikaru saw all around her become blurred and overlaid by an environment all too familiar to him. Her clothes replaced by others and her laughter accentuated.

It echoed in his ears. Overbearing, piercing.

It mixed with the muffled music and chatter in the background of the festival.

A desperate cry broke in, words overlapping each other. Distorted and almost inaudible.

His head began to ache, his eyes squinted, and an annoying ringing thrummed in his ears.

And it became more and more unbearable.

He wanted it to stop. It fucking hurt.

“Please! Please, don’t leave me!”

“Are you all right?”

The suffering vanished as soon as her hands touched his cheeks, bringing him back to the present.

“It's better if you reach a quieter place. Or maybe go straight to bed. It's pretty late, I'd say.”

He didn’t utter a word, completely disoriented by this event. And with no hesitation, he agreed with her suggestion, leaving that chaotic place under Clara’s attentive eyes.

She crossed her arms pensively.

“I assume that your research is not bearing fruit, given the way the situation is somewhat out of control.”

Clara looked at the Dendro Archon beside her, blinking away the fear from her eyes and with a hand on her chest the near heart attack she had from her sudden arrival.

“Don’t ever do that again if you do not wish for my death!” She exhaled, “I cannot ask such questions without having at least a phase of knowledge and trust between us. It will just take a little longer because of his wariness. Nothing is out of control. What gave you this impression?”

Nahida didn’t look away from the crowd and Clara followed suit, “Is this the first time he has shown himself like that?”

Realizing that she was referring to how Hikaru had grabbed his head with one hand and his face had distorted in pain, Clara cocked her head to the side, not sure how to respond.

“I think it is. Although he had a pretty awful nightmare last night. He wouldn't stop squirming and at one point wouldn't even let go of my hand. The situation is indeed quite strange.” She shook her head, crossing her arms again, “He should not experience this kind of thing; he is a puppet. Still, seeing him trying to hide it is very amusing.”

She smiled, amused by the memory of him eating and sleeping like a normal human being.

Nahida hummed thoughtfully, “It may be a consequence of your closeness.”

Her gaze ended on her again, and Nahida did the same.

“You two share something deep,” she replied at her silent question. Something that both unites and changes you.”

“Like… a connection? Are you trying to say that because of this connection that we have,” she pointed at herself in a surprised manner. “I am instigating a change in him? He forgets everything if I get out of the game and then remember again if I go back in?”

“A deep connection. The more you feel, the more intriguing and dear is something or someone to you,” she clarified her hypothesis. “You must remember your effect on the people of this world. Your presence can be sensed by every single individual here. You are the creator. A powerful figure, more than us Archons. We are not fully aware of the influence of each of your actions. And I forewarned you of my inability to help you in such dangerous cases. What I see is total blackness; you are not part of this world. That’s why you have to be careful not to ruin the balance of Teyvat more than Dottore and Wanderer have discovered. Do it for the sake of all of us.”

Clara let out a sigh, and nodded.

Her voice was sweet and gentle, but the weight of the words spoken was not light.

The things that were taking form in this game were not supposed to occur. Having real interactions with people here was not an expected possibility, because it was a game.

A game that she herself had given shape to and was having huge success.

She was living in an era where technology was overdeveloped, it could very well be compared to a sci-fi movie. Time travel had been discovered, even flowing into parallel universes. Computers were no longer cumbersome but a small device that showed you in hologram what you wanted, like the keyboard and the mouse itself.

Being a video game producer, she had in mind a game that would bring back the old days, a gacha style of gaming that had gone out of fashion long centuries before, leaving only complete games to continue through time.

Thus, she had shared with her co-founders this idea of hers, which was accepted with some misgivings.

She did not have many expectations either, nevertheless people had liked it, taking her by surprise. Probably because this generation had never seen any, except in documentaries or such, and wanted to experience what it was like to live in an earlier era.

Some time after the game was released, she had thought of creating a more realistic alternative of it using VR headsets to engage even those who had felt no interest.

However, something had gone wrong, because she had experienced firsthand one of the scenes she had intended to include in the game that was still far from being added: the Tatarasuna Mistery. In which a mysterious disease had infected, killed many locals and scarred Hikaru to the core.

She hadn’t been an exception.

The crying, suffering, screams, desperation.

It had been too much to watch and had nearly given her a panic attack.

And she had done the only thing she believed was right: use her VR headset to get out of there. When she did, she was wearing the clothes of that world and had some small wounds on her feet from running on the ground barefoot in terror.

It was then that she realized she had created a parallel universe of that game. The game codes had been mixed up and incorporated by the three-dimensional-capable machine she had used as a technical test, bringing to life the scenarios that were still being designed.

This discovery was too dangerous to share; in fact, they decided never to talk about it again. The fright and concern her co-founders had felt after seeing her in that state had been enough to agree to keep quiet about the matter.

Unfortunately, a problem occurred when an event came out further on, in which Scaramouche, the sixth fatui harbinger, made his first appearance.

Some of the scenes were not what they were supposed to be. They had changed. Scaramouche should not have said that the sky was fake, a hoax. But they had let it go; it gave a sense of mystery and decided to go with the flow.

After that, Il Dottore said the same words. It was not a simple concidence. Her game had a reality on its own and was writing its own story. Even their employees were beginning to detect strange things.

She wanted to solve the issue, but she did not know whether destroying that universe would bring consequences in the game and be discovered by the S.T.C.C.O., the Spatio-Temporal Continuum Control Organization.

Wandering between worlds must be authorized by them to prevent ill-intentioned people from changing parts of history for selfish purposes, and if they did not show permission they could shut the company down.

Risking a life of progress was out of the question, consequently the only option was to look for a foothold in that same world and figure out how to fix it against the disagreement of her co-founder friends.

The only way she believed possible was to ask for help from the one who had wisdom and knowledge on her side, The Dendro Archon Lesser Lord Kusanali.

She smiled. Kind, welcoming. And a small movement of her head in a reverent greeting.

“Welcome, outsider.”

She was petrified of Nahida’s awareness of her. It showed her skill as the ruler of a region, but it was all the same frightening how her identity could be so easily discovered.

She found out later that not everyone could do that, only the archons, so she had breathed a sigh of relief, hoping, however, that she would not one day end up buried alive for all the pain they had felt because of her.

Her explanation of the events, where she came from and who she was, had left Nahida speechless. She had understood she was a foreigner, but not the significance of her presence there.

Everything about the young woman had some kind of wall blocking any outside access, and the reason she could not was precisely her provenance.

The Dendro Archon had then taken her to Hikaru while he was still Scaramouche, and the sight of him lying unconscious after the battle with the traveler had made quite an impression on her.

Everything here was real; you could talk to them, joke with them, touch them.

Remorse had made its way into her, and unconsciously she had approached and reassured him of his rebirth.

He was now Hikaru, the Wanderer.

She still had to find out what made him think everything was fake before releasing another region and archon quests, though it was proving quite difficult to do so.

She just had to try several times in different ways until he gave in.

That was why she had asked Nahida to send him on a trip and have them meet in the least forced way.

It would have taken her longer, but since in this universe time seemed to pass as it did in his game and unlike his world, she didn't mind.

The same could not be said of her indecision about whether or not to knock on the door of the room where Hikaru had decided to rest.

She could feel tension in the air. It was strange. And… intimidating.

Especially after talking to Nahida.

“Are you coming in or not? Don’t have any hands to open the door?”

She almost let out a scream at this sudden voice, a hand on her chest.

The way both of them made her almost die of a heart attack from a fright was really impressive.

Opening the door slightly, she let only her head pop out, almost shy, "I just wanted to know if you're feeling better."

“What do you think?” He articulated sharply, not even glancing at her.

“Well…” She entered the room, walking towards the bed where he was sitting and standing a short distance from him, “Is it a headache? Do you want me to fetch some medicine?”

“It’s not necessary. It will go away on its own.”

“Oh, good.”

Silence built between them.

Perhaps it had not been a good idea to visit him now, he was definitely not in the mood for small talk or anything else ― as he always was ― but she could not leave him alone.

“What’s your purpose here?”

After the initial moment of stupor, with a blink of her eyes, she could only say, “What?”

He looked at her, and almost took a step back because of how dull his eyes were.

“Sumeru probably has something to do with your traveling. What is it that you’re looking for?”

That was totally unexpected.

She thought she would have to work her way up to simply have a reply from him without creating suspicions. Even though it didn’t look like there wasn’t any from his intense gaze.

“Answers.”

He raised an eyebrow, a slight hint of amusement in his hollow eyes at her short response, “Answers. To what? The bright star high in the sky and the feeling of being controlled?”

He was definitely mocking her and the metaphor she used to express her opinion.

“Precisely that one.” She tilted her head to the side, “What do you think about it?”

“Everyone is controlled by someone one way or another. Willingly or unwillingly.”

“That makes sense. But how are you aware of that control? What signs do you see to come to that conclusion?”

“I don't know. Your instincts?”

She opened her mouth to retort, but closed it again, sighing slightly.

It was too good to be true. It was Hikaru they were talking about. The personality could not change.

She had a pang in her heart. She had given him that personality, like every character in the game. She had caused trauma and tragic experiences.

And that struck even deeper.

Everything in the palm of her hand, but as soon as something was out of control she wanted to fix it right away.

It was also a logical consequence of her work environment; she could leave nothing to chance.

The guilt still consumed her from the inside.

She realized only now how they had remained silent and with their eyes on each other.

He seemed to want to peer deep into her. To look for behavioral changes, for a weakness, to give certainty to doubts.

Or perhaps she was influenced by her own guilt.

It was suffocating.

Her hand moved, slowly, giving the puppet the choice to shrug it off, but he did not. It rested on his head and began to gently caress it.

“I’m sorry.”

It was a faint whisper, but a strange glint flashed through his eyes at it.

“For what?”

“I don’t know, just… I’m sorry.”

It had been spontaneous. She wanted to tell him, even though he did not understand the act.

And again, the same gaze as a few moments ago was on her. This time it was less oppressive and more… soft.

He reached for the arm of her hand still on his head and put it down, before pulling her close to him and resting his head on her stomach. His arms wrapping around her waist.

The word astonishment did not fully describe how she felt about this gesture.

It was completely out of character. Nonetheless, she had to remind herself that he was no longer a mere character in a game and that anyone who got an aloof, arrogant and conceited attitude could fall apart.

As a result, she encircled his head with her arms, attempting to convey comfort and reassurance.

She felt his grip on her waist tighten slightly, but was completely oblivious to the effect her words had on him… and the sudden change in his eyes hidden from her sight.

Thus, when he was standing at her heels the following days, it had her somewhat confused.

Scratch that. It was really confusing how calm and kind he had become to her.

It was likely due to that moment they shared together a few nights before, but the shift was…

Well, at least he had not completely changed; that would have been unsettling.

But she did not expect that he would even lie beside her on the grass, on a small slanted ledge of a hill, to watch the sunset together.

A bird flew in front of her and, following it with her eyes, she saw how it landed on Hikaru's head.

He sighed but did nothing to get it off.

It wasn't the first time this had happened; even if he tried to make it leave, he wouldn't succeed like he did with the others, and that made her laugh.

“They love you, huh?”

He didn't look at her, “Shut up.”

 “Never.”

He raised his hand, ready to make her fly faster than a bird, but she surrendered by shaking hers.

“Oh, my! You should calm your horses! There's beautiful nature here contributing to a breathtaking view and you want to sweep it away? That's so cruel!”

“I eliminate possible contamination.”

She blinked, “Wait. Me?”

With his eyes now on her, he cocked an eyebrow matter-of-factly, “Who else? The bird? Is your brain a decoration by any chance?”

She snorted, sitting down on the grass, “Then you should avoid associating with a person who has her brain as a decoration. That way you can avoid becoming dumb yourself.”

She was about to get up, but Hikaru's hand putting her back down blocked her from doing so.

And without saying anything, she smiled, bringing her arms under her head again and closing her eyes. A slight smile took up the young man's lips; she would not find out though, for it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

And after he did not know how long, heavy breathing of a sleeping person could be heard instead, and when he looked to his left, Clara was completely in dreamland.

Hikaru let out a small snort of disbelief at the scene.

The sound of stepping on grass behind him caught his attention.

“You like her company now, don't you?”

He sat up, watching the bird finally fly away, “She is bearable.”

Nahida giggled, “So bearable to follow her around, right?”

He reimaned silent as he got up and brushed off his clothes from the dirt, but didn't miss to give her a side-eye.

The little Dendro Archon observed as a small wind began to rise with a movement of his hand, lifting Clara into the air and carrying her directly into his arms; one below the crook of her knees and the other wrapping around her back. Her head drooping before resting on his chest.

With a nod toward her as a sign of goodbye, he jumped up into the air and flew away, leaving her alone.

Along with her worries.

She sighed slightly, “Seriously, I hope nothing happens.”

It could not be said that something was not wrong, as doubts had crept into Hikaru's mind anyway.

Such an answer as Clara's would have pleased no one; it was too vague.

That was why he had changed his attitude a bit, to get more informations.

Laying her on her bed, he took the bag off her shoulder without waking her and sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze drawn as always to her face.

He had a gut feeling of her being involved in those chaotic and confusing fragments of situations he was recalling, although there was a certain confidence ― which by now had wavered ― that he had never experienced them.

Getting closer was the best method to piece together those called fragments, but the more he did, the harder it was to detach and stay focused.

She was the one distracting him.

A few strands of her hair had fallen across her face, and his hand reached out to move them aside. After that he heaved a sigh, realizing that he had been staring at her for he did not know how long before he recovered from that strange state of daze.

He was definitely losing his mind.

He stood up and walked over to the chair placed by the door to put Clara's bag, which he still had in his hand, on it.

Before he could open the door a sudden noise stopped him. It had echoed in his mind, like a jingle.

Familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Another forgotten memory.

Looking behind him, he spotted the bag upturned on the ground with something out of it. It almost seemed to shimmer under the moonlight coming in through the open window.

And as soon as he took the fallen object in his hands his brows furrowed.

It was big, almost as big as half his head, and black. There was some kind of rope tied to the ends of it and eyes in the center of that small bizarre thing.

He recalled Clara’s exaggerated care for her bag, figuring now that it was most likely for this item and its possible fragility.

The more he stared at it, the more there was something tickling his mind.

And it turned into a deafening ringing that caused him to blink several times before he heard a muffled voice and saw blurred images of that same object and a young woman showing how to use it.

“Bring this to the back of your head, then this to the front.”

Like a puppet, he led that rope behind his head and the large part in front of his eyes. It fit like a glove.

“And press the button on the left side.”

He skimmed lightly for a prominent spot until he found it.

Through that device, a spiral of colors appeared before his eyes as the ground beneath his feet seemed to disappear into thin air before he felt it again.

Now he could only see white, and he quickly took that thing off, finding himself in a completely white and empy small room. A sliding metal door opened ahead of him and he hesitantly stepped out.

What he saw left him totally shocked.

There were pictures and drawings of a lot of people posted on the walls, but the ones he recognized immediately were Lesser Lord Kusanali, the Raiden Shogun, the traveler, their fellow flying being.

And himself. In all his forms.

To his left was a chair that had small wheels instead of feet and a kind of desk with another strange invention on it; there were almost transparent windows in which one showed a picture of flowers and writing in a small square while the other showed letters and symbols.

They were not part of the alphabet of the Teyvat language, so he could not tell which letters they were.

Next to them was yet another one with an almost mouse-like shape.

Attracted, he tried to press the arrow symbol pointing to the left located in the middle of that rectangular window, and a female voice suddenly boomed in the room.

She had used a welcoming tone, however, he did not understand what she had said except for a few words.

Xu Shi Han.

He was sure it was a name.

It was then that his gaze landed on a frame. A picture frame where Clara was smiling together with other people.

What was a picture of her doing here? Was he going insane?

Where the heck was he?

Raising his head, he looked out of that large window that gave a view of huge, long, light-filled buildings and the dark sky.

This made him come to a realization.

He was in another world.

He looked at the picture frame again.

Clara’s world.

She had gotten to Teyvat with that same machine that had taken him here.

He clutches on it still in his hand, overwhelmed by that discovery.

Then who was Xu Shi Han? A friend of hers? A workmate? Both?

Or was this all a hallucination?

Sudden sequences occupied his mind, almost causing him to lose his balance and grunt from the incessant pounding in his head.

He cast a glance at the device in his hand and decided to go back and ask the young woman for an explanation.

It was better to be direct this time, she might even have a solution for those headaches and disconnected memories.

It was beginning to irritate him.

However, as soon as he entered that white room again, put the object on and pressed the button, he had to grit his teeth and hold his head.

It felt like it was being hammered. Repeatedly and relentlessly.

A searing burning melting his brain until it reached his legs, which gave way under the weight of the pain.

There were voices.

It was unbearable!

Voices. Images.

He wanted it to stop!

Giggles. Cries. Screams.

Stop! Enough! No!

Please!

He inhaled deeply and his eyes were drawn to someone standing in front of him with their back to him.

Trees, plants and bushes began to dip into scenery.

Tilting his head to the side, curiosity crept in at the sight of that person dressed in clothes he had never seen before.

She had also removed something black and large from her head and was looking around. He could only see half of her face but wonder and excitement were visible on it despite standing slightly away from him.

Adjusting the basket full of harvested fruit on his hip, he moved a foot forward but found a small tree branch under it, alerting the young woman who spun around at the noise.

It was like being struck by a lightining. She was really beautiful.

“Oh, forgive me! I didn’t mean to frighten you!” he exclaimed in a soft voice, shaking his head. Confusion was visible in her features, and his fingers began to play with part of the rim of the basket, feeling shy, “Are you lost, by any chance?”

She let out a sigh, “I… think so. Am I on a island?”

Even her voice was melodious.

“You are. Kannazuka, more specifically in Tatarasuna.”

He saw her eyes widen and look at him intently, almost as if she wanted to see through him.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh! I’m Kabukimono, pleased to meet you!” he smiled, enthusiastic about making new acquaintances. “And you are?”

She seemed to have relaxed a little, smiling back at him, “Shi Han. The pleasure is all mine, Kabukimono.”

Technically it was not a lie, yet she was puzzled by the situation because it was not supposed to start that way.

Had she gotten the main settings wrong? A reversed scenario loading? She recalled checking several times before putting the machine into operation.

Glancing one more time at the trees, the bushes, with the chirping of the birds around and the sound of their shoes against the ground, the feeling of experiencing such a realistic sensory stimulus never ceased to charm her.

Her gaze fell on the puppet leading the way to the village after telling her that she could stay with them as long as she wanted. The shy but lively way he interacted with her turned the corner of her lips upward.

“We’re here!” he informed her, quickening his pace.

Chatter and laughter reached her ears, and she stepped out of the way in time to avoid being bumped by two children chasing each other.

She followed Kabukimono with her eyes as he walked over to this familiar young man with a red lock of hair to show him the basket of fruits, being repaid with a smile and probably words of praise.

After that, his attention switched to her, thus bringing the other to look at her as well, and she decided to approach for introductions. She then understood why he looked familiar; he was Niwa Hisahide, the one she would blame for the island tragedy in the game.

They appeared like real people. Having them face her really did have a strange effect.

She certainly could not say that they were fictitious characters and was trying out the game in virtual reality to attract more players, so she had opted for a simpler and quite believable explanation: she was traveling but had gotten lost and her possessions had been stolen.

She had also immediately found a bag to put her VR headset in to avoid curious questions.

Kabukimono had already thrown a quizzical look at it, which was not supposed to happen, since it was not meant to be exposed to the eyes of the characters.

Even if there were inventions here, explaining the use of a VR headset could have involved complications in the game which she was not inclined to have.

Everything had to go smoothly, and her intent had been achieved.

She wore the local clothes, got along well with the villagers, and helped with whatever errands were available.

Still, Kabukimono's reluctant behavior around her had not escaped her notice.

Conversations were brief ― almost nonexistent ― and he would run off, yet he had been so friendly during the first meeting.

These interactions were odd; she did not remember including them as options. Actually, nothing was as she recollected setting them up.

As he was now with the elderly women who spoke to him as he smiled and listened eagerly.

“Don't worry. He had these reactions with us at first too,” Niwa's voice caught her attention as the young man walked up beside her with a hand on his hip. "He just needs some time, you'll see how he won't pull away again."

"But it's been days," she sighed. "And I'm not doing who knows what action to deserve this attitude again. I'm approaching in a gentle way."

He hummed thoughfully, “You are right about that. But... it may be that you are different.”

“Different?”

He smiled, “Sometimes we have different impressions of some people. Honestly speaking, yours leaves its mark, Shi Han. You release positive energy that relaxes and makes one feel at home. Apparently, your energy has a powerful effect on him and that makes him shy and clumsy.” Niwa chuckled at the dumbfounded face she had while he was talking, and shoved the sheath with the sword inside into her hands. “Now take this and hand it to him. He lost his previous sword and had asked me to forge another.”

Awakening from her initial astonishment, she tried to speak but he was already on his way.

So she huffed out a laugh and the only thing she said to him was a "thank you!" to which he responded with a shake of his hand.

She hadn't really noticed that he had a sword in his other hand, caught up as she was in the Kabukimono dilemma.

Niwa's confession had left her speechless. So much for the fictional character!

If they had told her that she would hear such a thing from a nonexistent person, she would have laughed in their faces.

Glancing at Kabukimono, she caught him staring at her before returning his eyes to the women who were walking away after the talk ended. She almost chuckled as she walked toward him to fulfill her errand.

“Hi. Here, from Niwa,” she spoke kindly, showing him the weapon he then took from her hands. 

“Thank you,” it was almost a whisper.

“I heard you practice sword dance. It must be difficult.”

“Not very.”

“You put in a lot of effort, though”, she smiled. “This is not to be underestimated. Although I have never seen you dance, I know enough about this.”

He had not responded, he just looked at her. She seriously believed that she was hated at this point and that Niwa's words were just to reassure her.

"Would you like to... watch me?"

That caught her off guard, but she widened her smile, "I would love to!"

She hadn't really expected that! It was a really huge leap of progress!

It certainly had not been easy to ask her to see him dance, but she was really happy about it. And now that she was witnessing that dance, to say that he was talented was an understatement!

The smooth and accurate movements, the relaxed facial features, and the passion-filled eyes with which he performed the poses was nothing short of mesmerizing.

As a backdrop, the trees, the river and the light wind that had risen made it almost magical.

She couldn’t stop looking at him.

He was so immersed in it that he seemed to have forgotten her presence after ending his dance, so she applauded him, catching his attention.

"That was... magnificent. I don't know what else to say.”

His eyes drifted to the sword, playing with its hilt, “I’m honored to be complimented.”

Shi Han was completely taken hostage by the tenderness he had awakened in her, and without thinking about it she had mussed his long hair in an affectionate gesture.

Kabukimono had only blinked in surprise.

"Oh, forgive me!" she pulled away, raising her hands in surrender. "You were so sweet that I moved unintentionally. Please, don’t hate me!”

“Hate you? I would never!” he quickly shook his head, almost offended by that.

“Oh. I thought… you hated me.”

“Never! I’m just…” now he looked anywhere but at her, what was probably embarrassment invading him. “You are so beautiful and kind…”

She would have had an explosion of diabetes if he had not stopped!

How in the heck was he so, so sweet? He was a precious cinnamon roll!

“So it is not a disturbance if I request to see your dance again?”

“Absolutely not.”

“That’s a relief then. And… thank you for your compliments.”

The response she received was sparkling eyes and a toothy smile.

And the following days Kabukimono had left all shyness behind and kept staying close to her like a child trailing after his mother.

He would smile constantly, seek advice on even the smallest things, ask to pick fruits or just go for a walk together.

A total different character.

You could not look at him and not think of protecting him from any danger.

To think that he would change his personality after that tragic event that he would soon have to endure was really a shame, yet the story had to have footholds to continue.

Every action and reaction was calculated and giving them drastic plot changes could have consisted of inconsistencies in moving forward.

Messing up was not an option.

She was going to enjoy the course of events without a hitch.

And watching Kabukimono had become her favorite pastime; he was so adorable and innocent. Like now as he placed the firewood under the cauldron.

Surely he had noticed her fixed gaze on him, for she could see him playing with the sleeves of his robe.

“Asahi is late.”

She chuckled, “He wants to do it himself, as small as he is it will take him a while. He wants to be useful, like you.”

“He shouldn't tire himself though, since he's not very well.”

“I know, but let him do it. It's really cute to see him so hard-working.”

Asahi, the sick child who would add to Kabukimono's suffering when he would pass away.

He was already ill, that tragedy would take place sooner than later.

Another detail she did not remember at all was his name, because she had not given him one. He was just supposed to be an addition for the character that would become Scaramouche.

But if she dug her heels in over everything, she would start to get headaches, so it was best not to question and just comply.

“Water is here!” the small enthusiastic voice of Asahi caught their attention and they saw him almost trip and tip over the bucket full of water.

“That's too much water, Asahi!” Shi Han burst out laughing, helping him move closer to the fire.

“We still need it!”

“Yes, yes. Pour it slowly or you'll ruin the firewood.”

The teasing, the smiles, the chattering, the caresses. These heart-warming interactions had always fascinated Kabukimono.

Every human feeling and emotion captivated him.

There was something mysterious and inexplicable about the way they worked and manifested themselves.

However, the one who attracted him like a moth to a candle was Shi Han.

The manifestation of her emotions was a subtle but strong trait; the change of them could be sudden or slow.

He often found himself staring at her more than he should, completely invaded by a strange feeling that a puppet should not experience.

He had no heart; it was impossible.

Could it perhaps have been her aura? It was not to be ruled out. The villagers also felt at ease with her and almost considered her family.

“Is something wrong?” Shi Han's gentle voice and her face so close to his made him pull back a little from the sudden entry into his view. “I called you several times. Do you feel strange?”

“Oh, no. It’s just… You seem to feel so much happiness…”

“Are you not happy?” Asahi asked confused.

“I could, if I didn’t have…” Unconsciously, his hand went to his chest. “… a void here.”

“You mean, you wish you had a heart?” He nodded and heard Shi Han sigh, sitting next to him. “Mmh, have you ever heard this story before?” the question gained their attention as the child placed the bowl of food on the floor, “There once was a puppet soldier whose greatest wish was to be with a ballerina doll forever and ever. But the soldier didn’t have a heart and didn’t know where his feeling came from. One day, his owner didn’t want him anymore and threw him away into a fire. But even in the flames, his eyes never left the ballerina.” He smiled, ”The next day, the people found a tiny heart in the ashes left by the fire.”

He exhaled, sadness filling his voice, “Probably ashes in the shape of a heart, but that’s not a real heart.”

“Maybe. But what if…” He tilted his head to the side, “… hearts can be born from ashes?”

That would have changed things, but he was not sure.

“You don’t need a heart,” Shi Han spoke, grabbing his hand and slight sparks orerran his body. “The fact that you worry about being empty and that you might not reciprocate in the same way shows that you feel something.” A tender smile played on her lips, eyes looking at him with affection, “You are able to express emotions without it. You are more human that most people. Am I right, Asahi?”

“She is!” he had almost shouted it while nodding firmly.

Her face lit up, as if he had remembered something, “Oh! Asahi! Your handmade gift!”

The child made the same expression, got up and ran to a wooden box, pulling out a doll.

Kabukimono was quite confused.

After the child had gotten closer, he noticed the details of the object better. It was him. Its hair and clothing were the same as his, and it had what looked like a small tear under its eye.

“I'm aware that it didn't turn out that well, but I still wanted to give you a gift.”

He was at loss of words. He had a knot in his throat and his eyes were stinging.

He grabbed the doll and stared at it, a smile forming on his lips.

“Look, you’re smiling,” Shi Han rubbed his shoulder in a comforting way. “You’re happy, Mono.”

“Mono?”

She sucked the air through her teeth before grinning, “Kabukimono is too long. Mono is better.”

He smiled back, feeling shy again but with a tingling sensation.

He heard Asahi giggling, but a coughing fit struck him, bringing Shi Han to stroke his back and him to look at him worriedly.

“Everything is fine, just coughing.”

“You should still get back into bed. I’ll accompany you.”

He followed them with his gaze until they vanished into the other room and went back with his eyes on the doll. He touched its hair, its trim and stitching.

A gift made with affection.

A goal he did not think he could achieve. He thought people would not consider him; lacking a heart he might not feel empathy, or understand certain actions dictated by certain feelings. Consequently, causing estrangements on their part.

Yet they were friendly, loving, and hospitable. They treated him like a son, an older or younger brother, a friend. He felt loved and always wanted to be loved.

And very much loved by Shi Han.

It had become a permanent fixture. He did not want to do anything that could lead her to be bothered by his presence; he wanted to be praised.

More and more.

She had become the first person he spoke to as soon as the sun came out. A strong force continually pushed him toward her. And he did not mind.

Just being near her gave him warmth and love. He could sense it.

Like now, as the sound of the flowing river was heard, sitting at its bank and looking at the night sky.

It was better to say that he was watching her admire the stars.

“I love this view. I've never seen so many stars light up the night.”

“Where you come from there aren't many?”

She shook her head, “No. Let's just say they've… dimmed over time.”

“You will see them often by staying here then.”

She had opened her mouth, but had not spoken. This jolted him slightly and he began to feel a squeeze in his chest at that nonverbal response.

“Are you… leaving?”

Shi Han had definitely noticed the sudden change in mood, because she was hesitating, but she eventually nodded.

“I’m traveling, so… I’m moving all the time.” He turned his head to the other side and pulled his knees to his chest. “I also have to stay with my family. They definitely miss me. But this doesn’t me- wait, what’s wrong? Are you crying?”

Hearing her concerned voice gave him a sense of victory.

First she would sneak in and then decide to leave without thinking about what she had left behind? Without thinking about how he would feel? Was she really going to leave him? Why?

He didn't want to!

Her hand moved his shoulder slightly so she could look at him, but he resisted. He heard her calling him, but he did not answer.

He felt betrayed.

“Mono, please, listen to me!”

“I am.”

“You aren’t. You didn't hear a word I said because you’re still like this.”

He stood up abruptly and looked at her, taking steps back before halting and showing her bag in his hand.

Shi Han had widened her eyes, taken aback and confused by his action.

“Speak the truth. It has to do with that object you always carry in here with you, doesn't it? The way you take care of that thing has always intrigued me. You never show it to anyone, you keep it hidden and you seem obsessed with it.”

She let out a long sigh with her eyes closed, sensing the situation getting out of hand.

She was probably thinking that she would never have thought of such an overreaction on his part and that she didn't even know how they had gotten to this point.

He didn't know either. All he knew was that a trigger had been set off.

“It is because it’s an important object for me. It has an emotional value. It’s a gift.” She explained in a soft voice and stretched out her hands, “Come here, I’ll show you.”

He kept looking at her, stalling for a while until he gave up.

Shi Han reached into the bag and pulled out the object.

"Bring this behind your head," she had lifted that thing above her head and brought with one hand what looked like a strange rope behind it. “Then this to the front,” the large part went in front of her eyes. “And press the button on the left side,” her finger stayed on that specified spot but didn’t press down. “That’s it. But since I break a lot of things, and you know that, I don't use it much to avoid breaking it.” She took it off and smiled at him before putting that thing back in the bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Sorry if I startled you. I was going to talk to everybody about it these days. And I was telling you earlier that I would come back to visit anyway, and we may as well write to each other.”

He lowered his head, distress overtaking him.

Of course there were these options, but they were not like having her by his side all the time.

It was different.

“But I will not see you every day.” his voice had come out hoarse, as if he were tearing up.

“You can travel with me. And we can take Asahi with us, too. If you want, we can ask Niwa as well. I don't know if he would agree to travel, but it doesn't hurt to try.” He raised his head, stunned by the proposal. Shi Han cupped his cheeks, her fingers wiping away tears he did not know were coming out, “There, there, stop crying. Have you calmed down? Do you like my idea? No more sadness?”

He nodded, inhaling a deep breath to cool down.

This myriad of emotions were making him dizzy. And what she did next almost caused him to lose strength in his legs.

She giggled, tousled his hair and rested her lips on his forehead. After that, she hugged him. His face leaning against the crook of her neck, warm and soft skin touching.

“You’re such a good boy.”

Her fingers run through his hair, stroking gently and slowly.

He couldn’t think straight. He was over the moon.

He hugged back, tightening his grip as much as he could without hurting her.

It was like being wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, comfort and fondness. Safe from any danger, feeling special, and have no negative thoughts.

She was the last piece to complete his wish.

Like it was your home.

It felt like home.

He had attained peace. A feeling so wonderful that he wished it would last for eternity.

But against his every thought and will, that newly completed paradise was gone.

Black smoke had begun to surround them, and the villagers began to get sick. They were getting worse and worse, and no one knew how the heck to stop the disease.

And they were dying. They were dying and dying one by one. A chain reaction that had spread terror and despair. And the helplessness about the situation didn’t help.

Hence, he decided to ask for help from the one who had created him, the Electro Archon herself.

He did not want to leave Shi Han, Asahi and Niwa alone, but he had to do something.

When he arrived in Inazuma, no one would let him in to have an audience with the Archon. With tears in his eyes and desperation clouding his senses, he did not for a single moment stop asking about his creator, displaying the golden feather around his neck, left by her in his hands.

Even though Yae Miko appeared in Ei's place, he begged to save the villagers, on his knees, his hands grasping her clothes. Shepromised help, and he believed her.

After returning to Tatarasuna, he saw Shi Han standing outside the house in the distance.

“Shi Han! The shogunate will come here! Let’s inform Niwa and-“

Now close by, he could notice Shi Han's dull eyes and bare feet. A bad omen took hold of him and he ran toward Asahi's bedroom.

When he saw him, Asahi seemed to be asleep.

Deeply asleep.

He had a lump in his throat, his hands began to shake.

That was a joke, wasn’t it? Asahi was definitely joking. It was not the best moment to do that, but he was playing around.

For sure.

“Asahi, it’s not good time to play. You need to wake up. The… The shogunate is coming and…”

One touch and he suddenly pulled his hand away, as if electrocuted.

Asahi was cold to the touch. Too cold.

No. No! No! No! Please, no!

Why? Why was all this happening? What had they done wrong to undergo such a thing?

The child’s words crossed his mind and he smiled through the tears.

He was here. Asahi was still here. His heart was still here.

And without a second thought, the flames enveloped both him and the house. He waited, waited until he could see it, but there was nothing there.

No heart from the ashes but anger and sadness made an appearance.

He clenched his hands into fists, tears that would not stop falling, “How dare you die like this, and break your promise to me?” He sneered, “What a joke… It’s just ashes, nothing left but ashes.”

He lifted his head up, a deep sigh leaving him. He stayed like that for a while before walking out.

He still had his Shi Han. He needed her hugs and sweet words.

He needer her.

However, he did not expect to see her with that black object on her head, her hands still on each side of it.

Hesitantly, he spoke, “Shi Han?”

Their eyes met, and what hers conveyed made him even more desperate.

“What… are you doing?”

Shi Han gulped, lips quivering and voice shaking, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

It was too much.

Tragedy was to come, but she did not imagine it so suddenly. She had not even had time to breathe. It was all going too fast, and witnessing it firsthand had never been in her plans. To see the life of someone you spend time with vanish before her eyes without being able to do anything to stop it was the most deplorable torture there was.

Waking up from the catatonic state with the smell of smoke from the flames Kabukimono had started burning the house in which she had memories was another pain.

She could not take it.

It was all too realistic; she did not even believe she was in her own game anymore. Maybe she was and there had been mistakes during the data transfer.

She didn’t care anymore. She wanted to get the fuck out.

If she had entered in the game with the VR, she could as well come out of it.

Fear was dominating her and she didn’t give a shit about anything or anybody else. She couldn’t.

She was doing what was right for her sanity. And she also felt so bad for that.

“What are you saying? I… I don’t get it.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I can’t stay here any longer.”

“Wait, wait! What do you mean? What are you trying to say? Where are you going? Where-“

Adjusting her VR, she pressed the button and everything was reduced into a spiral of colors. Seeing the familiar white room again, she collapsed on the floor, relief taking over her senses. Hearing her friends' and co-fonders’ voice put a definite end to that long moment.

But for Kabukomono had been an istant. A light and then nothing. She was gone.

His Shi Han was gone.

Where? Where had she gone? What had she done to make herself disappear? And why? So was it a lie? She did want to leave him?!

His head hammered incessantly, it felt like needles penetrating and pushing deep. His pupils constricted, a silent scream leaving his body, his hands clutching his head to try to stop the pain.

It hurt. It was unberable.

“Shi Han! Shi Han!” he sobbed. “Don’t go! Come back! Why are you doing this?! Please! Please, don’t leave me! Shi Han, please! Don’t leave me!”

Shi Han exhaled, almost running out of air. After regaining oxygen, she sat on the edge of the bed and a sigh of relief left her lips.

She was in her room, probably after she fell asleep and was brought in.

That was terrifying.

Dreaming of those events was not really something she expected. She had had nightmares after returning from here, but they had faded after a few months.

Guilt was kicking in again.

She needed a glass of fresh water for her dry throat.

Movements alerted her and she got up, spotting Hikaru under the moonbeams picking up her bag and placing it on the chair.

“Oh, it’s you. Was it you who brought me here?”

“Did you think it was someone else?”

“I… never thought you would do that,” she giggled. “but thank you.”

He just hummed, “Your bag fell and this thing slipped,” he lifted one of his hand to show her VR, the other one on his hip. “Nothing broken, you can rest assured.”

She let out a sigh of relief, “Ah, thank God- Archons. It’s a precious item for me.”

She walked over, checking that nothing was really broken, and put it back in the bag, then holding the latter to herself and returning to the bed to place it on the nightstand.

She wanted to hit herself because she had almost made a stupid mistake. Here they were not thanking God but the Archons.

It had never happened before, but the air was imbued with something strange.

It was heavy, tense.

“Is something wrong? You look nervous, Shi Han.”

“Oh, it’s al-“

Her heart skipped a beat, turning pale. She turned around to look at him, searching for something in his eyes that suggested she had heard wrong.

She had certainly heard him wrong. A trick of her ears. He didn’t know her real name.

“What…?” it was almost inaudible and she saw him tilt his head to the side. “Oh, sorry, Hikaru. I thought- nothing, don’t worry,” she shook her head and gesticulated with her hands. “I really should sleep.”

“Hikaru was the best name you could have chosen. I really had an enlightenment in my life.” One step forward, one more, another, as he continued, “But giving it to me through the Traveler was not necessary. I would rather you had given it to me in person.”

He was there, close to her. Too close. She was petrified.

His irises seemed to glow in the dark. Threatening, smothering.

She did not know how or when, but she felt pressure on her arm, was pulled to the side, and the sound of something being broken echoed the room.

Her eyes settled on the nightstand, where her bag was no longer. Her lips began to tremble, her face to distort with fear, and her breathing became labored.

His foot was still on top of it, the VR inside shredded.

He knew. He knew her real name, about her.

Fuck! Fuck!

How was this possibile? How did he find out?! Did her presence really lead to this? She had been careful, avoiding anything that might spoil the plan. Really!

Realization kicked in and she stared at him, while his eyes had never left her and had watched her every facial change.

“You used my VR!”

“Is that what it is called? It is certainly a wonderful invention.” With his hand still holding her arm, he drew her to him, chests touching and faces a short distan apart. “It made me see your world. Our past.” She could feel his breath against her lips. “You don't know... how painful it was after you left me. Asahi, Niwa, you. I saw the darkness, and called your names. Yours especially.” His other arm went around her waist, pressing their bodies together as tightly as he could, ”I wanted your hugs, your caresses, your reassuring words. You were my support, my fixed thought. But after a while, I began to forget you, only you. Probably because you are connected to my world and can manipulate a few things. And I bet the stars and the sky are part of it, aren't they?”

She gulped, trying to push him away, but she couldn’t.

It was happening too fast, she couldn’t react. Her head was spinning, her pupils shaking.

“But I’m also aware of how what happened has worn you down. You tried to make things better, giving me a new rebirth.” He gave her a knowing lopsided smile, a sinister glint in his eyes, “Everything is okay, honey. Your suffering is coming to an end. You will be reborn with a new you. I promise.”

A flashback of her stroking his hair and humming a melody while he was in a coma popped into her mind. He had recited the same words she had said.

He had heard it all.

“I'm sure you didn't do it all by yourself. Someone helped you. But even knowing the current situation, Lesser Lord Kusanali did not act on it. I assume that no one can do anything if you are involved.” His hand left her arm, which fell dead weight, and moved towards her chin, cupping it, “Am I right, Clara?”

She coudn’t breathe.

Demanding, controlling, out of his mind.

“Am I right?”

She breathed out, “Yes.”

“It means no one can meddle between us. Is that correct again?”

“... Yes.”

His face lit up, a smile making her skin crawl.

He giggled, caressing her cheek. He placed his lips on her forehead, before cupping her cheeks and kissing her.

She was squeezing her eyes, paralyzed.

He nipped at her lip, causing her to flinch and taking advantage of this, he swept his tongue between her lips, tangling and tinkling their tongues together.   

He broke the kiss, staring at her with eyes filled with confirmed madness.

And hugged her. Her face against the crook of his neck.

“You’re such a good girl.”

The paradox was paralytic and finding a way out erased.

She realized that she had taken Nahida's words lightly.

But what could she have known? How could she have known that he would behave this way? These were not excuses! She could not have foreseen this!

But unconsciously she had believed that she would not arouse suspicion. Foolishly she had gotten too close.

And she had brought disaster with her.

Memories had surfaced that should not be there.

An unwanted insight into something that should not have been there.

He was so attached to her that his affection had transcended time and space, outclassing that betrayal and seeing the positive side of her redemption toward him that would also be projected onto her game, having a close connection between parallel and video game realities.

But she was the culprit. She had decided to test the waters by prolonging her stay in a place that was beginning to seem strange to her.

And she was paying the consequences. Willy-nilly.

#scaramouche #yandere scaramouche #yandere wanderer #scaramouche x reader #yandere genshin #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x oc #wanderer x oc #sagau #sagau genshin #yandere sagau #genshin impact #genshin scaramouche #genshin wanderer #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere wanderer x reader #isekai au #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact imagines #yandere #male yandere #genshin impact sagau

[halfwit-halfblood]

It’s a date — xavier thorpe

Inspired by this post

Summary: Your friends are tired of you and Xavier refusing to confess your feelings. Enid helps set you up.  Pairings: Xavier Thorpe x reader (gender neutral, no use of Y/N) Best friends to lovers Warnings: None! Word count: 723

A sequel/companion piece is on the way!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───  

“This is unbearable.” Ajax deadpanned.

“We really need to do something about this.” Bianca agreed.

They walked side by side through the school and towards the quad for lunch, closely watching you and Xavier walking ahead, oblivious to your scheming friends behind you.

Enid’s ears pricked up at the sound of potential gossip. She skipped forward between Ajax and Bianca and hooked her arms between theirs, tugging them in close. “Do something about what?” She grinned. Bianca pointedly turned to look at you and Xavier in response.

Heads bent close together as you spoke animatedly, his arm constantly brushing against your own while he gesticulated. The world was lost to the pair of you. Your friends were used to it by now, had gotten used to pretending that the way you treated each other was strictly platonic in public, only to listen to your abject pining late at night in the dorms.  Ajax and Bianca frequently traded notes the morning after their respective friends had an emotionally frustrated ramble but had yet to convince either of you to confess.

“Oh em gee this is so romantic! We should set them up!” Enid squealed. Bianca scoffed and rolled her eyes affectionately.

“No chance, Enid. We’ve been trying for weeks but neither of them wants to say anything.”

“Listen, Xavier’s my best friend and don’t get me wrong I love the guy, but he’s being so dumb about this. He’s convinced he’d ruin their friendship; won’t listen to anything I say.” Ajax chimed in.

Enid, however, was not to be deterred. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be together, it was just a case of not knowing how. Luckily, she knew just the solution. “Watch and learn.” She said before detaching herself and running ahead to catch up with you and Xavier just as you reached the quad, settling down on the bench you’d claimed at the start of the semester, your sketchbook flung onto the table.

“No way, Xav.” You scolded him jokingly.

“Just one look! Come on, please?” He grinned, stretching his hand over your own where it lay atop your sketchbook protectively.

You tipped your chin up at him and met his eyes, smiling back at him. “No chance.”

Enid paused on the opposite side of the bench and watched you with a mix of love and mild exasperation. Up close, it was easy to see why your friends were so done with the situation. Xavier was looking down at you with such undisguised fondness, if Enid didn’t already have a plan in mind she would just nudge his head forward slightly and let the ensuing kiss speak for itself. The lack of space between you was astounding to her, let alone how oblivious to it you both were.

“Hey Xavier,” Enid started, snapping you both out of your intense eye mooning. “Are you free Friday night? Say… around seven?”

“Yeah sure, what’s happening?”

“And you?” Enid ignored him and turned to you to ask the same thing. “Any plans?”

“None that come to mind. Is everything alright Enid?”

“Great! Well, Ajax and I do have plans that night, but you two should have fun without me. It’s a date!” Internally she prided herself on the immediate blush that coloured your faces pink, mouths opening and closing wordlessly. “You can tell me all about on Saturday, see you later!” Enid waved goodbye and left, dragging a speechless Bianca and Ajax along with her to give you two some privacy.

“Did…” You started hesitantly, watching them walk away as an excuse not to look at Xavier. “Did we just get set up?”

“Yeah,” Xavier laughed nervously and rubbed his neck with the back of his hand, silently praying for his blush to calm down. “Would you… I mean, if you want…” You turned back to him and watched as your usually confident, teasing best friend turned into a stuttering mess.

The realisation hit you like a wave – the feeling was mutual.

“Let’s do it.” You cut in. His eyes lit up as he came to the same revelation you had moments before.

“Cool! Yeah, um… Lets say the Nightshade Library at seven? I know it’s not the most, ah, romantic,” he laughed nervously and glanced at you, softening at the sight of your warm gaze, “but at least it’s quiet?”

“Sounds perfect.”

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #percy hynes white #xavier wednesday #xavier thorpe wednesday #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe fanfic #wednesday fanfic

[ino-tamukas-baggy-sweater]

A Second Chance, A Father's Curse -Part 5 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

Thank you all for the support on this series, the first part has become one of my top posts and it's only been out for about a month or so, I'm really glad there's people enjoying my writing!! <333

Part 4 here

Warnings: Blood, beheading, satoru gojo is a little shit

Word count: 3.3k

“Repeat yourself, and pray that I heard you wrong lest your head falls from your shoulders,” Jin Itadori’s voice rings out in the throne room. It has gone deathly silent, the gathering of lords and his remaining four sons all now listening indiscreetly to the messenger who speaks.

“Y-your highness,” The messenger stutters, “Your son bears no traces of Itadori tattoos upon his body,” There is barely a sound as the king stands, but the messenger is quick to fall to his knees and beg for his life. Jin Itadori is not a merciful king, but he gives it this once, gives the messenger a second chance, “Go, watch over him, report back the instant anything of note happens,”

He does not have to wait long. The messenger is dead before he can finish his sentence. The only words Yuji Itadori heard, “The Crown Prince of Iqoria has perished, the King and Queen retire, your son is set to be-” Before two thumps, one after the other, and his head is rolling back down the stairs he climbed to bow directly at the throne.

The king is breathing heavily, Yuji steps instinctively between his father and his younger brothers, “OUT!” His face is red with rage, “EVERYBODY OUT!” Choso and Yuji exchange a glance, grab a brother each and sprint out the back entrance to the throne room. Their mother is not far behind, her knuckles white with stress.

“Oh mother,” Yuji murmurs once they’re a safe distance away, letting go of Kechizu and taking her hands, rubbing the backs of her knuckles until she stops clenching them. “My sons,” She whispers, tears dripping down her face, “Oh my boys, it will not be safe here for much longer,”

“We can go to Iqoria, Ryomen will take us in,” Yuji insists. “He might take you three, he won’t take me,” Choso murmurs. “What makes you so sure?” “He knows you, he protects you three, just go without me, I will be fine,” “No, if you won’t leave then neither will we,” Eso speaks up, “Either we all go or none of us do,” Kechizu nods, his hands finding Yuji again and pressing his body to his brothers, “I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t want to go anywhere without big brother Choso,” He murmurs softly.

Their mother sobs quietly, “You must all go, I refuse to lose you in his darkness,” “We cannot go yet, we must wait a few days,” Choso murmurs, pacing the hall as he thinks. “He is sure to punish us though, he is sure to come for us if we do not leave soon,” Yuji pleads. Kaori grabs her eldest son and pulls him in for a tight hug, “I will keep him away from you, do what you must to prepare but you must leave before the coronation, things will only escalate from there,”

The two eldest exchange a glance over her shoulder, fearing their father’s wrath and what they know can come from it. Slaughter, destruction, meaningless suffering, war, and of course what comes hand-in-hand with all of that. Curses manifested in their millions.

~

“What a punishment for the Captain of the Guards!” “Leave it Satoru,” “Oh no, seriously, I can’t believe she’s making you hang out with me, you must’ve really pissed her off with that stunt for her to make you do this, I mean guarding the royal sorcerer? When the royal sorcerer is me?” He smirks. It annoys Geto. The guard looks for solace in scanning the nearby treeline, deliberate in his choice to omit a reply.

“Come now, not talking to me? And here I was thinking we were friends,” Gojo continues his rituals, shooting his reluctant companion a glance as he renews the veil around the city. “Oh, so we’re friends now are we?” Geto mutters. “You wound me Captain!” Gojo groans as he steps back from the veil to admire his handiwork, the air shimmering with a lovely blue colour for a moment before fading into the air.

“Tell me about him then, if you’re so eager to talk, tell me about Prince Ryomen,” Geto folds his arms as they begin to walk back to the city, “How dangerous is he?” “You worry too much Suguru, he may be strong but if the Princess needed it, I promise you I’d win,” Geto raises an eyebrow, one hand resting now on the hilt of his sword, “Forgive my lack of faith, Satoru, but the Princess’ wellbeing is my highest priority, if I have to kill him to save her I need to know if I will be able to,”

“You really don’t like him, do you?” Gojo’s voice has softened, his face more relaxed than before as he eases into the conversation. It irks Geto. “He lashed out at her on the journey here, what am I supposed to think?” Gojo sighs, “And she forgave him, she said it was because she pushed for information he wasn’t willing to provide anyway, so what is your problem?”

They pass through the castle walls and veil as Geto falls quiet, unwilling to reply. “Is it because of those girls?” Gojo asks again. Geto turns to the royal sorcerer, gripping his arm tightly to stop him walking ahead, “I cannot lose her, if I lose her then all I have left is the failure,” Gojo’s eyes fill with pity as he looks back. It infuriates Geto. He doesn’t need the sorcerer’s pity.

“I can exorcise them if you need me to, Suguru, you don’t have to live like this,” He murmurs. “If you do that, then they’ll be gone forever,” He mutters, letting his hand drop, “This is my punishment, this is what I deserve,”

“Nobody deserves punishment for failing to protect what they love, the grief is enough, you don’t have to do this to yourself,” Geto starts walking again, heading for the sorcerer’s tower within the castle grounds.

“Think about it!” Gojo calls as he jaunts along behind the storm cloud of a man, “It might be good for you!”

~

“The news will have reached Khoccadia by now,” Ryomen whispers, his fingertips trailing up and down your spine as you lay in his arms in your shared bed, “We must prepare for the worst my father is capable of,” His other arm tightens around you slightly and you feel his muscles tense with fear. Your hands trail up his chest to his cheeks, gently rubbing with your thumbs, “And your brothers? What of them? Will they follow him?”

He shudders at the thought, curling himself down around you, “They’re better men than that, they will not,” He insists, “If…” He trails off, but you look up into his eyes, prompting him to continue the thought, “If they come here seeking refuge will you allow me to care for them?” His eyes plead silently as he looks into yours. You cannot say you’re thrilled with the idea, especially considering the implications it may have with regards to Jin Itadori, but you nod, “As long as you can trust them without a single drop of doubt, then yes,”

A flash of determination crosses his gaze, “I will make sure of it,” He mutters, shifting down and nudging his head under your chin. He’s been oddly protective the last few days, as if he expects his father to jump out of the nearest shadow and snap your neck where you stand. With the veil still lowered you know this to be impossible, as it directly alerts Gojo of anyone entering the city and the castle who was not born in Iqoria.

“Worry not of matters concerning your father right this second, please, just close your eyes and dream of elsewhere,” You murmur, your fingers trailing over his shoulders and upper back. “Why would I dream of elsewhere, when right here is where I want to be,” He breathes as his body relaxes against you, his breath fanning your collarbones as the candlelight splashes his cheeks.

Your bodies are cradled amongst swathes of blankets and an excess of pillows, your hands content to just lull him to sleep while your book remains bookmarked on the bedside table behind you. A gentle knock on the door makes you look up, “Come in,” You call softly. The knocker, a maid who slips in the room and bows quickly, smiles when she notices Ryomen’s slumbering form.

“Has he accustomed to Iqoria my lady?” She murmurs. You nod, “I believe so, what did you come for?” You ask, gently brushing your fingers through his hair. “Oh yes, Ieiri Shoko would like to see you, may I let her in?” She asks, to which you nod. The royal physician enters a moment later, her face dull as usual, only slightly warming after she’s showed her respects.

“Princess,” She starts, “Do you want the good news or the bad news?” She asks. You shift until you’re sat a bit more upright, Ryomen’s face now buried against your stomach, “Might as well start with the bad,” You frown. “It’s your mother, Princess, she retires because she’s fallen ill, and I fear it is not the kind of illness my touch can heal,” Her words are soft, softer than you’re used to hearing from her, and you appreciate it despite the blow it deals.

You feel your chest tighten, tears threatening to fall, “Her heart strains with the loss of her son, it’s alright, you don’t have to be gentle with me,” You murmur, “I only wish for her to be at ease,” Shoko approaches the bed, pulling the chair from your desk with her and then sitting backwards astride it, leaning her arms on the back of it, “May I tell you the good news?”

You nod again, your hand coming up to brush your tears away before they can fall to the pillows beneath you. “I do not believe this illness will kill her, at least not for a long time. There are stories of people dying suddenly of broken hearts but I believe with her daughter taking the throne and her husband still by her side she will live to see another age of Iqoria,”

Shoko’s words prompt idle thoughts, memories of your mother from your childhood, and you nod again, “Thank you for telling me,” You murmur, “Does father know?” She nods, “He specifically requested for my help,” Your hand returns to the back of Ryomen’s head, just gently holding him close lest you fall apart.

It’s just been one bad turn after another, and a little gremlin inside of you tries it’s best to convince you that Ryomen’s presence has been nothing but bad luck, but you shoot it down with vehemence. You’re determined to help him use his immense cursed energy for good, and if that means you have to put yourself in between him and his father, or him and your people, then so be it.

“I do have one other thing I would like to ask of you Princess,” She murmurs, her voice lower than before, and it captures your attention back. “What is it?” “May I examine the Prince while he slumbers? I worry for his health,” She asks tentatively, “I wish to look for any lasting damage within his body from both the cursed energy he bears, and from the physical abuse that he suffered in his childhood,”

You look down at your husband, sleeping peacefully with his face hidden against your stomach, his eyelashes fluttering with whatever dreams race behind his eyelids. Part of you resents the idea of examining him without his knowledge, but you can guess he would refuse if he was awake, “What will this achieve?” You inquire.

“If I can ascertain his sensitivity to cursed energy then I can give Satoru pointers on how to teach him, and maybe even teach him myself, refine his reverse cursed technique. I can also begin work to fix some of the lasting damage within him caused by his childhood trauma, but of course my lady it is your decision right now,” She puts her hand up and gestures to you, “You are to be queen after all,”

“I do not fear retribution as such, I know I can order him to do this, but I fear a breach of boundaries, the loss of trust, Ieiri,” You murmur sadly, “As much as I agree this is something that needs to happen, I cannot do it without his knowledge or without his consent,”

“Will you speak with him about it?” She presses and you sigh, “Yes Ieiri, I will speak with him, but I cannot guarantee anything, he may not want you to heal him, is that all you came to speak about?” Your eyes are drooping and you wish nothing more than for her to leave, as much as you enjoy her company on a regular basis you need to be alone.

She dips her head, “That was all, goodnight Princess,” She returns the chair to its place and then backs out of the room, the latch clicking and her footsteps trailing off into the distance. “Oh Ryomen, what have we gotten ourselves into,” You whisper softly, shimmying back down under the covers until he’s tucked under your chin once more.

~

You didn’t sleep much after Ieiri left. If you could have tossed and turned you would, it felt too hot and restrictive under the covers despite the comfort of your husband’s arms. When he woke you were dozing in the soft sunbeams creeping through the window. “Still sleepy?” He grunts, nudging his nose to your chin as he moves to tuck you into his chest instead.

You grumble something incoherent before the words spill from your mouth, “Shoko visited before I could sleep, told me that mother is ill,” You speak in short sentences, just a hint of anger in your voice, “She wanted to examine you while you were asleep, didn’t let her,” A yawn prevents you from speaking more but he tilts your chin up to look into your sleepy eyes.

“Examine me?” “Your energy sensitivity, your physical trauma,” You mutter, “See if anything was left behind, or strained under your energy,” You shake his hand off your chin and push your face into the hollow space between his neck and shoulder, “She’s worried you’ll suffer under the weight of everything,”

He’s quiet and you can sense him bristling like a hedgehog, “I’m not a specimen to be examined, I’m a human being,” He growls. You hum in agreeance, moving so you can look up at him, “I know, and I’m sure she knows too, but with how much energy you have I’m surprised there isn’t any sign of a physical toll on your body, will you please, for my sake, allow her to at least examine your energy tolerance?”

He scoffs, “As if she’ll be able to resist poking around my scars like they’re any of her business, doctors just can’t resist that sort of shit,” You rest a hand over one of the more prominent scars on his chest, one that looks suspiciously like it was caused by some sort of whip, and gently implore him, “Will you allow it if I am present? If I forbid her from anything more?”

“Only if you order me, Princess,” He spits, pulling back and swinging his feet to the floor until he’s sat on the edge of the bed, resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. You push yourself up on one hand, the other adjusting the strap of your nightgown, “Ryomen,” You murmur, “I will not order you around like a dog, you are my husband and you are, as you said, a human,”

You shuffle closer until you can rest your head on his shoulder, pressing a small kiss to his neck, “If there is something you’re afraid of her, or me, seeing, then just tell me that is the reason and I will order her to let it go,” He pulls further away from you, standing and leaving the bedside, taking his warmth with him.

“Ryomen will you look at me!” You shout. It startles him and you feel a slash of his energy cut past your cheek. It stings for a moment before going numb, you ignore it as he turns to look at you, “I will not have you acting like a child, if you want somewhere to be angry that badly then I will send you to the place my brother died to fight in his place, is that what you want?”

You realise your words are going straight over his head, his eyes wide and yet strangely empty, and a strange warmth on your leg makes you look down in shock. The sheets beneath you are stained with pools of liquid scarlet, your nightgown no better, you lift your hand to your cheek only for it to come away warm and wet.

“I knew this would happen,” He covers your cheek with a hand and a comforting sensation flows through your face, which is still slack with shock.

The door slams open and you sense your royal guard and royal sorcerer as they stumble past one another into the room. “My lady, I sensed royal blood, are you-?” Gojo stops talking suddenly, straightens up as he sees the state of the sheets, “O-oh…” “Step away from the Princess you cursed monster!”

Geto steps towards Ryomen, causing you to finally snap out of your shock, putting yourself between them again, “Will you please just stop, Geto!” You beg, “I am sending Ryomen to live in the sorcerer’s tower while he learns to control his energy, now let this stupid obsession with my husband's actions go or you’ll become a permanent employ of Satoru Gojo’s personal guard!”

The air is thick with tension and you step out of Ryomen’s space, your nightgown awkwardly sticking to your thighs with the remnant blood. You take a few deep breaths, fists clenched, letting your eyes flutter shut as you reach out with your mind and summon your maids. Geto still has not backed down by the time they arrive, “My lady, what is it you need?”

Tentative eyes dart between the three men, all silent and in various forms of quiet observation or contemplation. “Good, will you please see to my bedsheets, and draw me a bath, I wish to remove this blood,” The group of women begin bustling around the room, heads down as they skirt around the men.

“Well?” You ask, mild annoyance filling your tone, “Are we done here? Or are you going to continue this pointless battle of wits in my bedroom among my maids for the foreseeable future?” “Of course not my lady, I will see you later Ryomen, I trust you will be quite the eager student!”

Gojo grabs Geto by the elbow and drags him out of the room, surprisingly strong for someone so skinny, and Ryomen stalks into the connected dressing room, leaving you alone to be exhaustedly shepherded to the bathtub and stripped of your bloody nightgown.

~

What makes a king, a king?

Is it respect? Power? Strength?

You’ll get different answers wherever you go, but one thing is always the same.

The ability to protect. The willingness to protect.

If you’re a king and your people feel you cannot protect them, then what is your purpose?

What do you become but a link in the chains of destruction?

If you do not hold respect and love for your people, then you don’t have a people at all.

Stories passed down through generations speak of kingdoms risen through bloodshed and destroyed under the weight of foolish kings and shallow pride.

Will yours join the ever growing list?

Will you allow your anger to come before your people?

Of course you will, for it is all you’ve ever known.

But who will pay the price for this?

Who’s blood will be spilled in the end?

One thing is for sure, written so deeply in the threads of fate.

You won’t be alive to see.

Also don't be afraid to comment or message if you want to be tagged, or if you want me to write a separate oneshot or scenario or something, my requests are open!

Part 6 here

Taglist: @love-jelly

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #ryomen sukuna #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x you #satoru gojo #suguru geto #yuji itadori #choso kamo #ieiri shoko

[invaderzia1]

ascension

wanderers never been good at expressing his emotions. he used to find them useless and would bury them far into himself. but he’s grown from that now, so he figures he needs to learn.

wanderer is big into acts of service for you. he feels the need to prove he’s worthy to keep around, even if you’ve told him he is. so after you help him reach ascension, he starts to think how to repay you. I mean, you spent so much hard work making him more powerful, which if most people did remember who he was would call you a fool. but you keep coming back with new things to help him feel more powerful.

he starts by asking nahida about the process and starts to figure out what you would need to ascend. after a week of investigating, he’s able to plan it out quite easily. then he has to plan how he can avoid you to gather the supplies. as his travel companion, you are always next to him. so he starts using your sleep schedule against you and leaves once you are asleep.

you start to notice how sneaky he is being, at first it doesn’t bother you because he’s never gone for more than two hours and he always comes back to you. and you are aware as a puppet, sleep isn’t as important for him as it is for humans. then one night he doesn’t come back, you wake up expecting him to be waiting for you in you’re shared room, but he’s no where to be found. he’s gone for hours and you start to worry. you start asking people in sumeru city if they’ve seen him, to no avail. then you turn to nahida, who is able to provide more insight into his whereabouts. so you set out to find him, determined to make sure he’s alright.

it’s raining, harshly. worse than you’ve seen recently, but you refuse to turn back until you’ve verified he’s alright. you push through the wind and rain as it soaks through the many layers of your coat. you can barely see what’s ahead of you, but you remember the layout pretty well, so you head to where she said he would be.

as you get closer you see him, he’s walking towards you but it seems he didn’t notice it was you yet. so you rush forward, startling him at your sudden presence. you are staring at him with an expression he can’t discern at first, not with the intensity of the rain, but then your arms wrap around him and pull him close and it provides him his answer. relief. he doesn’t know why it provokes a feeling deep within him, but he doesn’t seem to mind, not with your warm embrace holding him close.

it takes him a moment to realize how wet you are already and how far from sumeru city you are. he scolds and pulls you under some cliffs that provide an escape from the rain. he can’t help but fuss, pulling your forgotten hood over your head and trying best to dry you, all the while scolding you for your carelessness. once he feels content with his fussing he’ll stop and let the quietness of the storm overtake the moment.

wanderer then figures now would be the best moment, having worried you enough to risk illness to find him. he’s never been the best at planning things like this, so he opts to just pull them from his bag and hand them to you, barely meeting your eyes. instead he opts to monitor your reaction as you reach out to inspect them. before you can question what the occasion is the wind around you changes and begins to swirl around the two of you, a warm light emitting from each object and your vision. your eyes widen in understanding as the ritual completes.

your eyes sparkle up at him as each object disappears once the ritual completes. your eyes well with tears and for a second wanderer worries he was presumptuous in assuming you’d want this. but then for a second time this day, your arms wrap around him, not as tightly as before but equally as warm. you whisper thank you’s against his neck as you try to quell your emotions. ever so carefully, his arms wrap around you and hold you softly against him, a small smile on his lips.

wanderers never been good at expressing his emotions, but he’s slowly learning. if only for you.

#scaramouche fluff #wanderer fluff #kunizukushi #kunizukushi fluff #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #maddy writes #kunizukushi x reader

[itstheghostofmypast]

My Little Stress Eater

Five X F.Reader

(Headcanons)

Summary: "What? I eat when I'm stressed okay?!" Y/N has always been a shy little wreck, more or less the only way Five could tell she wasn't feeling her best was when she would start eating the same proportions as Luther. If that wasn't all, the more closed off she was, the more he wanted to know about her.

Point of Headcanon: Nothing really, just wanted to write about an S/O that was closed off and resorted to stress eating when nervous - kinda got too personal while writing😭🥺 apologies in advance

Gif credit to owner

Note: Five is around 21 when he is hired by the Handler and so is Y/N.

Genre: Fluff

Five X FemReader

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

After Five is hired, the Handler tells him to meet his partner.

"She will be in an Irish bar".

"How will I know it's her?"

"Think of it like it's a test, you'll figure it out."

That lady was a crack head and he was sure of it. Making his way into the Irish bar at midnight he sees dozens of men with their female companions, all rowdy and noisy. Eyes scanning the room till he finds someone at the corner table, a corner illuminated by a single spot light on top.

Was she ...stress eating?

He walks over to her table and stands their, watching her stuff a pastry in her mouth.

"Commission?"

She looks up at him with a mouth full of what he assumed was a chocolate tart, before swallowing and quickly wiping her face with a napkin.

"Y-yes you must be Mr.Five."

"Mind if I sit down?"

"N-no not at all please, Sir"

"okay, stop with the Sir "

"Yes Sir-I mean Mr.- I mean..."

"So you're a stress eater huh?"

"...sorry about that"

"It's fine, as long as it doesn't mess with our work."

So here's the thing, he thought she was stress eating for the mission, getting cold feet ya know. But turns out she can kill better and faster than he can, and works with knives like she's painting- something Diego should learn to do. 

The problem with the stress eating only rose up everytime the two were either done with the mission or the aftermath of the mission.

He really has no clue why because she never really speaks to him. Even  after a year of working with her he only knows a handful of things about her; her name, age and that she's a stress eater.

He does deduce that she isn't much of a talker, conversations are things she truly avoids the most- he figured that out after a mission, when the two were driving back and "Put Your Head On My Shoulder" by Paul Anka began to play, and for some ungodly reason it made him feel...weird so he changed the channel. Not a minute after she carefully reached for the button and switched it back to the song, looking out her window again- okay, so she likes music too. He didn't change it after though.

It's not like she wouldn't respond to him when hed ask her something. He just noticed how she would be calmly sitting while she was alone and as soon as hed come and ask her anything, she'd become a nervous wreck- which is why he had asked the Handler numerous times to let the girl work alone but the blonde would refuse.

Almost 2 years in he decides it's best to confront her about this.

"If you don't mind me asking"

He begins to ask her one day, after working together for 2 year. Sitting in the same bar, the whole year went like a cycle. 

"Yes?"

"What stresses you out?"

Unfortunately, that had forced her to flush pink. Gulping down her coffee in one go before wheezing out, hissing at the warmth. 

Panicking he grabs a glass of cold water and gives it to her, helping her drink. 

"You know what, nevermind Y/N."

And she quietly sips the water and he goes to the bar, getting her another pastry.

That went work well

A few years later, when both are in their late 20s. The two are cornered on a mission and they end up in an alley- a dead end. Five tries to blink them away but he's out of juice and she's out of ammunition.

And she turns to look at him

"Five! Blink away please"

"I can't Y/N, I'm out of juice-"

"Then run! I'll distract them!"

"Are you stupid!?"

"Please just go! You'll finally have no partner that way-"

"WHAT? YOU THINK THATS WHAT- OH MY GOD." 

Fortunately, the new birthed anger had given the man an emotional burst that charged his powers. Eventually he was able to get them out of their.

Back at the motel he confronts her and she's about to dip when he's just:

"NO. NO EATING NO RUNNING AWAY. ANSWER MY QUESTION."

"I...I heard you and the handler and-"

"You've been distracted since then? Wait...no you wanted to- are you INSANE?"

"No, I could've handled them I was ...I.."

Five feels like he's about to explode, never has he met anyone so closed off - he thought he was secretive but this was just messed up.

"You what Y/N, just...I just want to know"

"I like ...I mean...it's you I ...why do u want to get rid of me?"

"I don't....I just asked her because you seem so uncomfortable around me and we've known each other for years but-"

Cue her going to the minifridge to look for something and he goes after her to stop her. 

"Do you...like me"

"Perhaps...."

Cue Five grabbing her face and crashing his lips on hers. And he's glad when she responds, clinging onto him.

So after  years of knowing each other she lets him in; ever so slowly though. 

And he realised how different they were, he was impatient and impulsive, while she was patient and immensely shy. While he would spit out his opinion and shun down any other, she would nod and remain quiet. He would lose his appetite when stressed, while hers would increase to large proportions. He preferred math and science, while she preferred myths and folklore- coming down to an imperial science Vs social sciences.

Though there were strong similarities between the two, both prefer peace and quiet, neither enjoys killing and most of all, both of them are always ready to sacrifice themselves for the other.

Their relationship is no secret, everyone in the commission knows about them and may have titled them as 'The Beauty and the Beast' - though she sees no beast when she looks at five and assures him that she has killed way more people when she was first hired at the age of 15.

Soon enough, Five decides he wants to marry her- though he is unsure if she is ready for such a big change, so he decides to drop hints.

Like leaving a bouquet around their apartment for her, or getting her random souvenirs on their missions. Being extra nice to her- every cliche thing he could find in any book about romance- yes, the boy had decided to refer to a book when it came to feelings as well.

But almost three months with this routine and he gets no reaction out of her, in fact, he personally feels as if she is more distant- like she was when they first met. Initially he thought it was his usual paranoia , but one night when they came home late from a mission and she chose to sleep in the guest room, that was the last straw- he was sure she had begun to hate him.

Next morning he decides to confront her about this- only to find her standing next to the kitchen counter that was lined up with a dozen dishes.

He slowly taps the counter to get her attention and she turns to him with eyes as wide as saucers, wiping her mouth with her sleeve and clearing her throat 

"Love, are you alright? You've been nervous all week and...I'm .worried".

He approaches her slowly, speaking in a hushed voice, call it something about her he liked the most, her fragility. He wasn't the best with words and as he got to know her more, he realised how important it was to choose your words carefully, to speak in tones that do not trigger the other. At first he felt like it was walking on eggshells, but she had told him how it is important to consider the other person's feelings as well- she was possibly the most empathetic person he had ever had the luck to meet and he was glad she was his.

So there he stands in the kitchen, walking closer to her as she stares at her shoes. Gently holding her chin he tilts her head up, "Please, at this rate you'll eat half the world's rations."

At this she let out a small giggle, music to his ears. A sound so pleasant and calming, a sound he hadn't heard for a while.

"Well?"

"I...will you break up with me?" 

"What?!"

"W-well you've been so nice to me and...I just, you were also reading that book I have you about...feelings and stuff and-"

"I'm unsure if I should be more concerned about the fact that being nice made you assume the worst of me or that a woman who knows more about any culture about the world, is able to kill faster than light with ease, is too dumb to see what's Infront of her."

"W-what"

"I was trying to lead you to realise I want to marry you."

"WHAT-"

"Will you?"

She stares up and him and grabs him by the lapels of his shirt, pulling him closer, their noses touching, whispering;

"Why cant you just use words Five?"

"Why cant you just accept grand gestures,  darlin?"

He smirks down at her, arms wrapped around her waste.

"So, what's it going to be?"

"Yes."

"Good, because I wasn't gonna take no for an answer."

With that the two were married, a small wedding, quiet one too, one that was not known by anyone at the commission. Neither wanted to involve a lot of useless people, especially those who really meant nothing to them.

Either way, Five had told her about the apocalypse and how he wanted to go back. And much like his expectations, not only did she listen to him intently but also began to eat her dinner a bit faster- she was stressed for HIM.

"Y/N, why are you nervous about that, God-"

"B-but that's so sad and you were just a kid"

"NO, NO I AM NOT GIVING YOU MY RICE- "

Either way she ended up eating off his plate too, not that he minded.

Fast forward to the couple standing there staring at the portal. He reached to hold her hand, glancing her her determined face;

"Nervous?"

"No"

"Didn't see you devour anything today either so, if you're having second thoughts -"

"I'm not nervous because we're together."

With that Five felt his heart almost burst with joy and the two jumped into the portal, to 2019.

All that confidence went down the drain when she saw his siblings, then turned to look at a young Five.

"Shit"

The kitchen scene is the siblings personal favourite. Not only was their sibling's wife immensely tensed (visibily) she had also ended up eating Five's sandwich - for while he was arguing with Luther, she delicately pulled it out of his hand and out of habit he had let her take it. Only to realise what had happened after she had finished.

"Wheres my sa-seriously?"

"Sorry"

Everyone was amazed how this girl had to potential to tame their psychotic brother. Even after he came back with another suit case, just as Luther had told everyone about the world ending and no one wanted in on it, which had lef him to throw sissy fit, she had simply placed her hand on his shoulder, speaking up for him,

"This isn't a personal gain anymore, I know all of you have something or someone at stake but right now, the whole world being at stake is more important."

Five had never seen them actually agree on anything, let alone listen to anyone, but she had the magic to get them to do so.

Another thing the siblings notice is the way the couple communicates, usually it would be Five pacing around and mumbling stuff and she'd be eating something and listening. 

When the eye became useless, Five was about to explode, but when he turned to look at her, she gave him a soft, reassuring smile. And for a moment Kluas had witnessed his brother malfunction, staring at her a bit too long before going back to losing his mind.

To be honest, Allison felt that the raging teen hormones were only affecting their brother and not her.

Luther was sure of that. While Diego had somewhat developed and older brother character around her, his first instinct being to protect her. Something that Five had noticed to which he felt the need to say;

"Don't underestimate her jackass, she can kick your a** to the moon and back".

However , the 60's were the worst, for when they arrived, none of them were together- that included her. It was safe to say that Five was scared shitless, because she was not around him. He was more paranoid and impatient, so when he met Elliot and he saw a photo of her, he felt much better. Until he realised that she had ended up with Klaus, which was either a very good combination of a horrible one.

Luckily when the hippie arrives to the place where everyone is, Y/N follows in suit. As soon as she locks eyes with Five she runs to him, burying her face in his neck as he pulls her closer, not concerned about what his siblings would think of, whispering to her;

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I left you."

"It's okay, it wasn't in your control... plus Klaus started a cult and he's a great therapist"

"Danke my lady."

"You started a CULT? HOW MANY OF YOU MANAGED TO AFFECT THE TIMELIN-"

But before he has the chance to blow up she pulls him down for a kiss, then let's go, leaving him standing their angry and embarrassed.

Giving Klaus the opportunity to say:

"Children keep it PG here."

As things get worse, especially after Elliot is killed and Lila turns out to be the Handler's help, they stand their watching their names flash on the TV as terrorists, other than her and his, because apparently they were hostages.

"It's true, sometimes I do feel like I'm being held hosta- please stop eating the tuna jelly, please."

"IM SORRY OKAY BUT DO YOU SEE HOW WR ARE TOTALLY F***ED FIVE? I MEAN JUST LOOK AT THIS!"

Five stares at her confused then nods before turning to his siblings,

"I'm impressed, we broke my empathetic, soft spoken, polite stress eating wife."

Luckily, as soon as Five is able to save them, yet again, at Sissy's farm, they teleport back to 2019, this time ready for a peaceful life, only they end up finding themselves face to face with the Sparrow Academy.

"Five?"

"Yeah"

"I think I just lost my appetite"

"But love, I'm sure they have a whole kitchen stocked for you to devour"

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Note: Please excuse the horrid formatting, I wrote this on my phone and technology ain't working out for me these days. Either way, I hope ya'll like it'

TUA Taglist: @imaginesfire , @placidpluto , @achingwoundforaheart , @esmaada , @samyourneighbor , @xuenihao , @whoreofscience , @navs-bhat , @yuuki4646 , @simpformoonkight , @crowleysqueenofhell ,@anapotatowriter thank you, you lovely people for choosing to be part of my taglist ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚)

#ben hargreeves #five x you #five hargreaves x reader #diego hargreeves #five x reader #five hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five x y/n #tua incorrect quotes #tua x reader #vanya #allison hargreeves #luther hargreeves #umbrella academy #the umbrella academy #sparrow academy #tua s1 #fluff #five fluff #fluff umbrella Academy #headcanon #victor hargreeves

[sillyshrimps]

Detail that makes me feral:

When being overtaken by the paradise protocol AI Turo twitches and shakes violently, whereas AI Sada's eyes flicker and her crystals seem to form tears.

It seems like such a small thing but it really capitalizes on the differences between them.

Sada is obviously magnitudes more outwardly emotional then Turo. When she tries to fight against the program it's her emotions that make it through, the fear in her eyes, the distress on her face. She wants to reach out to the kiddos, get them to understand that this is far too dangerous and not in their control anymore. But she also doesn't want them to be scared. Even if she's not the real Sada she has her memories. She remembers holding Arven in her arms. She still feels that bond with her son. She doesn't want to see the fear in his eyes. She doesn't want to him to feel this incredible trauma that she's had to push onto him but there's nothing she can do to stop it.

AI Turo on the other hand is trying to regain control of his limbs. If he could just stop his arms from moving. Turn his head away from the target. Just anything to stop the release of the miradon that had already killed the only human he has ever known in person. Miradon has taken his only real companion from him and in this scene he's trying to prevent it from taking the human he sees predominantly in his memories. Locking up his own joints and pitting muscle against muscle as he fights.

They both lose of course.

There's alot to be said of them and their memories and how it effects their view arven. But let's not skip over the fact that Turo/ Sada are likely the only humans they've ever known, and the raidons have likely torn them to shreds infront of their eyes, and left them alone in a dusty lab at the bottom of the deepest hole in paldea to stew on those memories for years. (And with the raidons they probably had to clean the blood off of) Now they're being used by those humans they once knew and trusted and were their only companions to repeat such a gruesome killing on four innocent and literally defenseless children. All this from someone they remember and speak of fondly.

I have to say that at the start I was really bothered by Turo being overall so rigid, almost indifferent compared to Sada. But then, I learnt to appreciate this difference and worked around it to shape my own headcanons. This is why I don't feel like many of my headcanons apply to Sada as well. I mean, she's always smiling, has that fiery grin on her, while Turo always looks so focused, no time for jokes. He never smiles throughout the game and the only time he does, well... he's a little cringe!

It might be because it's a robot (although it doesn't apply to AI Sada), but I like to think it's because this is the way the original Professor was. Always very serious, very focused on what needs to be done, no time for jokes/laugh around. After all, we are told by Clavell how he used to work so hard that he would fall asleep in his lab. I bet he didn't even attend social events whenever they organised them.

He's not very good at social relations either, doesn't always say the right thing/hurts people's feelings by accident... a little mess when it comes to interact with other humans!

With this, I don't want to say he never smiles or doesn't know how to do it. I believe he does sometimes, but always in a very subtle, contained way.

I got carrried away talking about my Turo hcs, but what I actually want to say is that I love how you read that moment for both professors, pointing out their differences and giving them an explanation. It's a little treasure considering that they have the same dialogues and storyline; I refuse to believe they are interchangeable to the point you could say the same hc is valid for both.

On the second part of your ask, you surely triggered some tears there! Anytime I read Professor&AI Professor analysis I prick up my ears.

Yes, it's extremely heartbreaking to think they had to fight so hard against the will of the only person they've known all their life. And yet, I still feel like they don't hate the Professor; they still respect them and feel sympathetic with them. As I said in one of my previous posts about Turo and his AI, I'm pretty sure the latter has witnessed the worst of him, and wished it could help him somehow, not to achieve his dream but... to set him free from it.

Also, it's extremely telling how both the AIs decide to travel to the future/past to honour the original professor's dream; in their betrayal, they were eventually still loyal in a way.

#ask box #professor turo #turo #ai turo #turo pokemon #professor sada #sada #ai sada #sada pokemon #arven pkmn #arven pokemon #trainer arven #pokemon #pokemon violet #arven #pokemon scarvio #pokemon scarlet #pokemon scarlet and violet

[malvolios-yellow-stockings]

I'm getting DA:O brainworms again, but there's something so delicious about unhardened Warden Alistair growing into an unrequited (but actually kind of requited) love for (Mage) Warden who romances Morrigan and leaves him behind. Like, there's this one person who's been trying to convince you of good in this world, telling you not to grow cold, this person who was your right hand man, or, moreso you were his. This boy basically, you stumbled upon, who experienced the real world for the first time with you by his side. A man you walked Ferelden up and down with. Someone you've entrusted your life to and spilt blood for and who has done the same for you. A friend who has indulged your fancies, who reluctantly did things for you, who helped you bury a king who hadn't treated him kindly. And you've never really had feelings for anyone before him, at least like this, and you don't know what they are. And then you see him mingle with the Witch of the Wilds. See how he looks at her, trying to be cocky to impress her. See her twist this man into making decisions you're sure he'd never agree to were she not there to whisper it to him. And when you turn to the rest of your companions, they mock you and warp your concern. You are ready to give your life for this man, if it means slaying the Archdemon and ending the Blight but he speaks of some Dark Ritual. And it makes your soul grow weary and scared. And then Morrigan disappears and you finally think to yourself - this was for the best. But your friend is inconsolable. He talks of her with a fog over his eyes and a wistfulness that tugs at your chest. You try to keep him close to you but can feel him slipping away as you lose most of your contact. Maybe it's for the best. You hear of his exploits while on your missions with the Wardens. You try to keep away from him because seeing him once again makes you remember how it once was. It makes you flinch to remember his attempt at making you a king to rule beside Anora. The cold calculation of it all, his action unrecognisable to you. How much even the thought of it hurt. Maybe he hadn't been your friend? Maybe he hadn't understood you after all. But you joke about it, try to make it funny in your head. He's surely like a brother to you. Who couldn't forgive their brethren? And then you hear of his disappearance. The worst thoughts present themselves to your Taint-bitten imagination. And then you realize what he was doing. Some or other mention it, a mirror of some kind, something elven, you think, (maybe he was finding his heritage?) And then you hear it whispered. Morrigan, Flemeth's daughter. Yes, that Flemeth, they say. And you've never felt more betrayed in your life. You never got to say goodbye to him. To throw a jab one last time. And you grow bitter, because isn't it grand to finally understand that everyone leaves you in the end. You were born a royal bastard but you were an expendable means to an end and you will always be. And you abort this love and twist yourself into a leader because you know how much Thedas needs you, people like you, even though the place itself and the people around you might not. You still think of him from time to time. What became of Morrigan and him, but you forget the sound of his voice and the way he brightened your days and made you believe in something better. What remains is a dull sense of betrayal and bitterness with the man who turned on his principles and left you behind. And, Maker, it makes you twist with guilt. Get over it, you think, he has chosen a dark path.

(Mind y'all -

- I refuse to believe that the whole of Ferelden doesn't know why the HoF disappeared (when he goes with Morrigan). I just refuse to buy into it.

- I'm writing this at 2 fucking am and so working at 5% brain battery and 2% coherence and I'm not caught up on DA lore - I'm currently playing Inquisition, about 50 hours in, and have just met with Alistair again, which is what pushed me to write this drabble anyways.

- His painful and palpably disappointed dialogue about the Warden walking a dark path and the way the party reacts to his concern over the Warden being with Morrigan in Origins always kind of make me feel a pinch of what if? Alistair repressed bisexual

- Surana is my fave Warden as is apparent

- I am fully aware I am UPPING THE ANGST and I say - I want more!)

#dragon age #dao #alistair theirin #alistair dragon age #warden #warden surana #warden amell #alistair x warden #“I AM SO SORRY FOR SUBJECTING YOU PEOPLE TO THIS” #dragon age origins

[thornsnvultures]

natasha romanoff x f!reader 18+

1.8k words, domestic fluff, smut, oral, top!reader, breast worship, pussy slapping, tw food mention, tw scars

You're vegged out on the couch in the living room when Natasha comes home. She's not surprised to see you there, work's been kicking your ass lately and you've taken to disassociating to the sounds of Great British Bake Off as stress relief.

"I'm home!"

"Howdy."

She chuckles and shakes her head at your lackluster greeting. "I picked up garlic bread from the store, thought we could do pasta tonight."

"Sounds good."

Nat preheats the oven and walks over to where you're sprawled out, garlic bread still in hand. You're in just an over-sized tshirt and sleep shorts, long legs exposed and begging to be touched.

She pokes your leg with the bagged bread instead. "You alright, sunshine?"

"Hmm?" It takes a second for you to register what she's asking and you have the decency to look sheepish when it does. "Sorry, Nat, it was a rough one today." You sit up and crawl up the couch until you're face to face with her. She cups your cheek, her worried eyes take in the bags under yours. Your stupid boss has been working you too hard, pushing you to exhaustion and Natasha doesn't like it one bit. If she had it her way she would've had a less than cordial meeting with the old creep by now, made it known you were dating a deadly assassin and weren't to be fucked with. But you refused, you said you could handle it.

"Don't apologize for having a bad day, angel."

"Yeah, but you're out there kicking ass and saving people and I'm, what, sad that I have to sit in a meeting for an hour longer than I wanted to?"

You pout into your lover's hand, and let your eyes drift shut. Nat coos at her sweet, tired angel, pulling you close so she can press a kiss to your forehead.

"Just because you didn't maim anyone today doesn't mean you didn't have a hard day."

You giggle and wrap your arms around her trim waist. "How do you know I didn't maim anyone? I have great maim potential sitting just under the surface, ready to strike."

Nat leans back to look at you and cackles. "Sure ya do, killer."

You pout even harder now as your girlfriend wiggles out of your grasp and heads back to the kitchen to start dinner. It's late for both of you, but a routine that neither of you can skip. Eating together, watching mundane TV shows, feeling normal and domestic in a way neither of you thought you could. It was important, no matter the time of day.

So you stand behind Natasha at the stove, wrapped around her back like a sleepy koala bear on a tree, as she stirs noodles in a pot. You tell her all about your day and she shares as much as she can of hers that isn't classified information. You trace the scars that litter her shoulders with your lips and she bats your hand away from the sauce pan so you don't burn yourself. Again.

The oven dings when the garlic bread is done and the two of you eat in companionable silence, taking precious moments to simply exist in each other's space.

When you're done you fight Natasha to leave the dishes for tomorrow.

"I need cuddles. You better put down that scrub brush, I swear to God."

So you resume your position on the couch. Sprawled out with an arm over your head, your toes touching the opposite end and a cat-like Natasha curled up mostly on top of you. 

She has such a presence, a dominating, commanding force of a woman when she's out there in the world. But here in your little one bedroom, in the space your arms make for her, she shrinks, like a porcupine lowering its spikes.

The tv plays in the background but neither of you are paying attention. Your right hand rests behind your head while your left runs a steady course up and down her back, soothing in a figure eight that you know she likes. Her hands find their way under the hem of your shirt, grazing your tummy in a soft, tickling touch that makes you shudder and huff an indignant laugh.

"Don't you dare."

"I didn't," she protests into your neck. "They're about to judge the last cakes. I'm not distracting you, am I?"

"Brat," you chuckle and kiss her head where it's laying on your chest. The two of you lay all snuggled up until you start to fall asleep, gentle snores blowing through the red curls by your cheek.

"Nope. No falling asleep on the couch, too uncomfortable."

You whine and wrap your arms tight around Natasha, rolling until she's under you. She shouts like she's hasn't been trained how to overpower someone doing what you're doing fifty times over. No, she loves letting you crush her and you love feeling her under you.

With a hand on her cheek you lean in slowly, your gaze flicking from her eyes to her lips where her tongue darts out to wet them.

"Do you want me to take you to bed?"

Her eyes flutter shut and she nods her head. It's been a long day, but those words light a fire in you both.

You press a kiss to her forehead and climb off the couch, pulling her up with you by the hand as you go.

She protests when you push her into the bathroom to shower, but you know she needs it. Some time to herself to wash off the day, to unpack and make peace. That and the unscented soap at the compound just isn't the same as your lavender vanilla body scrub. It settles you too, smelling you on her like that. Mixing with the scent of her shampoo and something distinctly...Nat.

You're ready for bed when she comes back out. The shower was short this time and you know why when she doesn't bother to put her pajamas on, or even fully dry off.

You watch from the end of the bed as she drops her towel. Rivulets of water run from her collarbone and down her chest as she walks toward you.

To anyone else she would look fierce, like a lioness stalking her prey, confident and lithe in her movements. And she does look stunning, your breath catching as your eyes meet when she moves to stand between your spread thighs. But you see her. You can see the hesitation in those pretty green eyes that search yours from under thick lashes.

It's still there. The fear that she's not worthy of your time, your love. That she's too broken to be what you need.

You'll spend the rest of your life showing her that's a lie if she'll let you.

Her hands run the length of your thighs, pushing up the hem of your sleepshirt as you hold her face in your hands.

"So beautiful." You capture her mouth with yours, hungry and desperate to feel her against you.

Your hands caress her jaw before moving lower, grazing her shoulders, brushing away whatever laid heaviest there, before sliding further down to her breasts.

Natasha gasps into your mouth as you pluck and pull at her nipples, tugging on a line that runs straight to her core.

"Please," she groans against your lips.

"Please, what?" You tug harder on her nipple until she gasps and whines, pouting that you're making her use her words.

"Need you. Please. Touch me."

Her skin is soft and dewy against your lips when you wrap your lips around her breast. The sweet taste makes your eyelids flutter shut and you groan around your mouthful.

"Oh, fuck," she cries out and pulls at your hair as you lick and suck at her breast.

"Taste so good, baby. So perfect. Perfect fucking tits."

Her head falls back, mouth open and breathing heavy as her wet red hair tumbles down between her shoulder blades.

Your hands palm her ass cheeks, tugging her closer, squeezing the plump mounds between your fingers.

"Yes, baby, please," she moans when her exposed folds rub up against the cotton of your panties. You can feel how wet she is through the thin fabric.

"What do you want, baby? Want me to make you feel good?"

She looks down at you, at where you've been busy sucking new bruises into her skin. Doing your best to mark her as yours.

"Fuck yes. Make me feel good, baby."

She squeals when you grab her hips and throw her down on the bed. You know your grin is positively wolfish as you climb over her, tugging off your sleep shirt. Natasha's eyes fall to your breasts as she scoots back on the mattress, her mouth open and practically panting as her gaze skims your nearly bare body.

"Like whatcha see?"

"You know it, baby."

You laugh and fall to your stomach between her legs. Her thighs are creamy and soft and spread for you so beautifully.

"Such a pretty fucking pussy." You kiss down the inside of her thighs, nipping and sucking little love bites into her soft skin.

She inhales sharply when you ghost over where she needs you most to press kisses to her soft tummy. The scars there hold so much of her shame, the most uncomfortable parts of her past. It's a blessing, a gift, for her to show those parts of herself to you. And you treat them as such, every scar, every mark getting its own soft, loving kiss.

Her hips twist under your steady hands, trying to push you towards her center.

"Alright, alright," you laugh and nip at her hip, kissing your way down to her mound.

"You can spend all day down there another time, you sap. I wanna come all over your- ahh!"

Natasha cries out as you wrap your lips around her clit and suck.

"Oh fuck, baby. That's it."

You run your hands down her thighs to get knees and push them up to her chest, keeping your mouth on her pussy, licking and nibbling at that sensitive bud.

"Open up for me. Lemme see."

Nat gasps, her nails digging into her thighs as you spread her lips open with your thumbs and fuck her right hole with your tongue. She's so fucking tight, clenching around the muscle as you lick into her.

"Tight, creamy little pussy. This is my pussy. Right, baby? Say it."

You slap your hand down on her messy cunt.

"Yes! Yes, baby, it's yours. Your pussy. Fuck!"

Satisfied, you dive back in, licking and sucking at her lips, her clit until her legs are shaking around your head.

"I'm gonna come, fuck I'm gonna-"

You pull back and slap her pussy again and again.

"Ahh!"

"Come for me, then. Fucking come."

Natasha screams and comes when you shove your tongue deep in her pussy. Her juices spill over your tongue and you lap up all of it, as much as you can.

"C'mere."

Nat pulls you up by your chin and licks you clean, your chin, your cheeks. She kisses you, moaning into your mouth at your combined flavor.

"Good?" She nods her head, practically purring. "Want more?"

"Oh god, you're gonna be the death of me."

#lmk if you want more domestic natxreader #this was fun #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fan fiction #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff one shot #natasha romanoff headcannon #black widow x f!reader #black widow x you #natasha romanoff x f!reader #black widow fan fiction #black widow smut #black widow one shot #black widow headcannon #black widow fluff #my fics #i wanna write more domestic nat 🥺

[its-jaytothemee]

Tonight...And Every Night - Chapter 7

Pairing: Astarion x Tav, Halsin x Tav; Astarion and Tav POVs

Word count: 2,000; Chapter 7, Tav POV

Rating: Mature

Read on AO3

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Summary: Tav fails to convince Astarion to reject the Rite of Profane Ascension and refuses to help him complete it. He leaves her and the party, but regrets his choices later. Angsty and fluffy, POVs from both Astarion and Tav.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Spawn!Astarion, Angst w/ Happy Ending

Author's Note: This was inspired by my playthrough where I somehow failed all of the persuasion checks for Astarion after the Cazador fight, leaving me obviously devastated. Much longer chapter incoming!

Tav stood completely still, barely breathing. She blinked a few times, worried that this may be an illusion.

“How long have you been there?” She asked, releasing her held breath.

“Long enough.” Astarion paused. “Did you mean what you said?” He asked quietly.

She continued staring at him, saying nothing.

“When you said you could forgive me.” His voice was soft and hopeful.

“That depends on what you say next.”  Her pain seeped into every syllable of her words. She was barely able to get them out before the tears came back into her eyes. Her fingers dug deeper into Halsin’s hand.

“Fair enough.” He took a deep breath before continuing.

“Tav…I’m…” He paused for a moment and let out a large sigh, “I am so sorry. Words alone will never heal the suffering I caused you today. What I said was unforgiveable, even more so because it was you. You didn’t betray me, I betrayed you. I was blinded with my desire for revenge, I don’t know what came over me…I…” He started to stammer, his eyes darting between her and the ground in front of him.

“You were the first person in two hundred years to show me a shred of compassion, and I was grateful. But I never dared to dream that you could love someone like me. To be perfectly honest, I didn’t even believe that love was real. To me, it was just a fairy tale to help everyone sleep better at night, to keep them hopeful. Then…there was you.” He paused, looking down at his hands, still stained with Cazador’s blood. Tav watched him carefully, watching his expressions and listening closely to the tone of his voice.

“I understand if you never want to see me again,” he continued, lifting his head back up to look into her eyes, “but if you’ll give me one last chance, I promise you I will work to be the person you see in me. I…I want to be someone you can be proud of; I want to be someone who deserves you, Tav. I want to learn to live again – with you if you’ll have me. And if I can’t have that, I would happily start over with you from the beginning, as friends, as travelling companions. I cannot fathom the idea of no longer having you in my life. I’d rather live a thousand years having you as an acquaintance than live another day knowing I could never see your face again.”

Her bottom lip was quivering as the tears kept flowing down her cheeks.  She still couldn’t bring herself to move.

“But know this Tav,” he continued, “if you ask it of me, I will leave. I will find my way back into the shadows, and I will not trouble you again. It would be nothing less than what I deserve. I simply could not have lived with myself if I did not tell you how I feel.” The next breath he took was much shakier, and Tav could see that he was crying now.

“I…I love you, Tav. You didn’t take everything from me, you are everything to me.” When he looked back up to her, his soft, red eyes were a silent plea. The tear streaks on his face tinted with dried blood. She desperately searched his face for any signs of deception, but as far as she could tell he just looked terrified.

Suddenly, a memory came creeping back to her, the dark air around her transforming into swirling shadows.

The camp was silent, Tav couldn’t sleep and had decided to check the fires around the perimeter of camp. She didn’t think she would ever get used to the eerie darkness of these shadow cursed lands. A small whimper from somewhere behind her caused her to jump as she adjusted a torch. Grabbing the dagger at her belt, she slowly worked her way toward the sound. To her surprise, the sound was coming from Astarion’s tent. She stowed her dagger, and quietly pushed her way inside.

“Astarion?” She asked gently, reaching her hand out to rest on his back. Her fingers lightly ran across the slightly raised skin that made up the infernal scars on his back. He startled awake at her touch, breathing heavily.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” She tried to keep her voice as soothing as possible.

Even so, the look on his face was one of pure agony. She gave him a moment to process his surroundings. As his breathing slowed and he seemed to recognize that he wasn’t in any danger, he was finally able to speak.

“Oh, hello darling.” He said, still slightly out of breath. “Is something the matter?”

She looked at him, confused.

“No, everything’s okay, I just heard sounds coming from your tent and came to check on you.” She said, trying to avoid upsetting him further.

“Ah…I see…well…” he leaned back, seemingly trying to gather his thoughts, “as you can see I’m perfectly…fine.” He paused for a long moment before the word ‘fine.’ She watched as his face fell again, and she realized that he was afraid.

Tav tentatively reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. He ever so slightly leaned into her touch. She still wasn’t sure how much intimacy he was comfortable with. She didn’t want to push him, but she was aching to hold him, to let him know he was safe. While lost in her thoughts, Astarion suddenly lunged at her, throwing his arms around her waist and squeezing her tight. She returned the gesture, happily. He cried into her shoulders, taking ragged, gasping breaths. His arms were shaking, he desperately clung to her as if she was the only thing anchoring him to this plane. She softly stroked his back and his hair, doing whatever she could think of to try and calm him.

“You’re…you’re alright.” He sobbed into her shoulder.

“Of course I am, I’ve just been in my tent trying to rest.” She continued to hold him tight against her, still slightly confused.

“It…it was Cazador. He had you…” He took a deep gasping breath. “He made me watch as he carved…you were screaming.”

“I’m alright, my love. It was only a dream...” She held his trembling body close to her until his breathing returned to normal.

 Astarion hardly talked about Cazador. From what little she knew, it was easy to tell that he was a masochistic lunatic. What she didn't realize was that even without being able to control him, he was still able to torture Astarion from afar. He haunted his dreams even while miles away, unable to touch him. She knew he had suffered greatly at his master's hands, but just now realized how truly tormented Astarion's soul was as he held her tightly. He didn’t only fear for his own life, but that of anyone he dared to care about.

It was now that she realized that this was going to take a significant amount of time to heal, and that the healing couldn't truly start until Cazador was dead and gone. He would carry the scars of his torment for the rest of his life, constantly reminding him of that time. A pain stabbed at her chest, suddenly anxious that she couldn’t truly help him, that maybe he was too far gone. What could she possibly offer to offset two hundred years of pure malice? She laid him down next to her on the bedroll and held his head to her chest, still stroking his hair.

“Will you stay?” He managed to croak out between his shallow breaths.

“I’m right here with you. I’ll always be right here with you.” She whispered the promise into his ear. She also made another promise, silently. I’ll help you get through this, my love. You’ll live freely again, I promise.

Tav was suddenly back at their camp, the cool evening air was causing small bumps to rise on her arms. She found herself looking back into Astarion’s pleading eyes and faced with another choice.

Her mind was spinning. She never expected that he would actually come back, but was it enough? She kept her gaze locked on him as she thought through their time together. He had come so far, but still had so much further to go. He had used her and manipulated her for his own gain. But he had also dove in front of arrows for her, he stood up for her when others sought to cross her boundaries even though he couldn’t set any of his own. Despite everything, he still followed her, helped her, and believed in her. She knew that he had never known an ounce of leniency or forgiveness in his long life, yet here he was. Trusting and hoping that she would be the first person to give it to him. He knew all too well that she could crush him right here and now. He knew there was a possibility that she would be the proof he needed that he wasn’t worthy of redemption. He had to know that there was a very good chance she would send him away forever. And he still came back.

Yes, she was angry, she was still hurt, but in that moment, she was also so godsdamned proud of him. She thought back to her silent promise, her worry that she had nothing to offer him. Now what she could see as easily as the familiar lines on his face, was that he needed to feel forgiveness. He needed to know that he wasn’t alone, and if he would allow it, he would never have to be again. Halsin’s words rang in her ears, she didn’t want to think of her kindness as a weakness anymore.

She let go of Halsin’s hand and took small steps forward, slowly closing the gap between her and Astarion. Only a couple of steps away now, she was still not fully convinced that this wasn’t all some elaborate illusion. She hesitantly reached out her hand to touch his cheek, just to prove that it was really Astarion standing in front of her. The familiar feel of his cool, smooth skin greeted her fingers. He turned his face into her hand, closing his eyes. With that, she couldn’t hold back any longer.

Tav grabbed Astarion by his cloak and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. It took him a moment for him to hug her back, almost as if he didn’t believe it was happening. She cried into his neck, digging her hands into his back and his hair, trying to pull him closer. He cradled the back of her head, his other hand wrapped around her waist as far as he could reach, holding her as tightly against him as she could be. He lifted her up off the ground slightly as she clung to him.

“You came back.” She choked out between her sobs.

He pulled away slightly so he could grab her face in his hands.

“Of course I came back, my dear. And I’m here to stay.” He crashed his lips into hers, kissing her deeply. She broke away after a moment and pressed her forehead to his.

“Never scare me like that again.” She whispered.

“Never again.” He promised, as Tav wiped away the tears running down his cheeks. She kissed him again, holding his head in place against hers.

She nestled her face back into his neck and stood there in his arms for a few more moments, drinking in his scent. Tav knew there would be difficult conversations to come. They would have to face their spurned companions and even after all his help, she still wasn’t sure about Halsin’s feelings towards Astarion now. For a moment though, she purged the thoughts from her mind and relaxed into him. She allowed herself to be grateful that he found his way back into her arms, hopefully never to leave again.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 astarion #bg3 halsin #astarion x tav #halsin x tav #bg3 tav #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfic #bg3 headcanons #bg3 brainrot #bg3 angst #bg3 fluff #Y'all i sprained my ankle real bad so now i just keep writing about these dorks #I can't stop pls send help

[sylasthegrim]

Regent Aemond x Tyrell OC - Chapter 7

Rating: explicit

Tags: slow(ish) burn, sexual and romantic tension, smut

Summary: As a boy Aemond was enamored with his sister's childhood companion, the lady Alysanne Tyrell, and was heartbroken when she left to be married. Now that she is a widow, and back in the capital, the Prince Regent will stop at nothing to have the woman he wants.

CHAPTER 6 - MASTERLIST

The Queen of Thorns

CHAPTER 7 — THE QUEEN OF THORNS

“Come to me, Alys,” Aemond murmured, his purple eye fixed on her, his sapphire glowing in the candlelight like a beacon. She had never thought that blue would be his color, and yet it suited him more than any other color she could imagine.

Alys let go of the edge of the table she was holding on to, and as she took a few steps forward she saw the effect of her proximity on Aemond’s body. His lips parted slightly on deepened breath, his hips shifted and he tightened his grip on himself. He was beautiful in a way only a man of noble status could be, he looked regal even with his leathers open and his knees splayed, and in an instant of folly she imagined herself seated astride his lap, taking her pleasure as she wished. She blushed furiously as she watched his long fingers slide up and down his shaft, and she could only keep her eyes on it for a few seconds before embarrassment made her pull her eyes up to his face. 

As she walked closer in measured steps, her footfalls almost muted on the stone floor, Aemond watched her as intensely as ever, his sharp gaze fixed on her face.

“This— this can only be a moment of weakness,” Alys said, and Aemond nodded as she came to tower over him. He groaned as she came to stand between his knees and curled her hand along his scarred cheek. 

“I wish to touch you,” he confessed, grunting again when she shook her head, refusing him. He turned his face in her hand, kissing her palm fervently as she traced the curve of his bottom lip with her thumb. She was looking at him like no woman had ever looked upon him before, with wonder and desire.

Alysanne watched, mesmerized, as the tension she had seen build up in him these past few months fade, vanishing in the face of pleasure, and she understood why men sought it so often. She did not let her own mind wander to her own pleasure, despite the way her core was pulsing between her thighs. She gripped the star at her neck strong enough for the points to prick her hand as her other hand kept caressing his face, his neck, his hair. He seemed to relish in the touch, and for a moment she suspected it brought him more relief than his own hand between his legs.

Alysanne allowed him to pull her closer to him by the waist and she curled her arms around his head as he buried his face in her chest. Breathing gone erratic, he buried his moans and groans against the velvet of her dress, his hand splayed at her lower back. 

“Allow me to please you, Alys. I would kiss you…” he whispered against her throat and she dipped her head to catch his plea in a deep kiss. He hummed into her mouth, curling his tongue with hers before pulling away. “Not that kind of kiss, my love,” he murmured, and Alysanne’s face burned when she took his meaning. She had heard of husbands kissing their wives there, and it had seemed to her the most beautiful and honorable act a man could do to his wife —to kiss her where he would spill his seed and where she would birth his children. The place where love took place, where life bloomed, and even though she was not Aemond’s wife, he would still kiss her out of love, not for his own pleasure.

Alysanne yelped as he suddenly stood then spun her around until she had her back to the bed. Gently, his hand still at her lower back, he lowered her onto the bed and she went without resisting. Her face was the picture of trust as she let her head fall back onto the sheets and Aemond felt a dark sort of pleasure curl in his stomach at the thought of what he would do, if only she asked.

Alys gasped and her knees parted as he pushed the soft fabric up her legs, and her face burned as she was exposed to his gaze. But she did feel embarrassed for too long, as soon she felt his mouth draw a line from the tender inside of her knee to the crook of her hip, bringing his face to the place that caused her so much shame these days —the place where her lustful thoughts took life.

Alysanne threw her head back, covering her mouth with her hand as he pressed his lips to her core, where her folds met in a tight bundle of skin that swelled when she let her thoughts wander astray. Carefully, almost reverently, he explored her with his lips and tongue, drawing moans from her mouth, making her core tingle deliciously. Inside her a deep pressure was mounting, building slowly as she surrendered to pleasure.

Merely a kiss, she pleaded inside her own head, her hand still clutching her star pendant. Merely a moment of weakness. And how weak her flesh was under his assault, how sensitive her core was under his clever tongue. He kissed her in her most intimate place like had kissed her mouth, with precision and care, passion and devotion.

And so in the dark of the night, in secret, she abandoned herself to his love and allowed herself, just for once, to put her pleasure above reason.

— 

The Queen was standing on a footstool when Alysanne entered her chambers the next morning, Ser Criston opening the door for her and announcing her. Her maid was tidying up the trim of her dress, a dark teal color that suited her complexion and reddish brown hair. She looked regal despite the worry and weariness that her face bore as she often read to Aegon, well into the night. 

“You asked for me, my Queen?” Alysanne asked after a deep curtsy. She had been summoned as soon as the sun had peaked over the bay, a serving girl coming to wake her, informing her that the Queen wished to see her before the day began. 

And so Alysanne had dressed in a simple gown, one she often wore to the Sept. It was a deep blue, almost black as the night sky, with a golden rose embroidered on each wrist and a high collar. It had been one of her mother’s gowns and she always wore it with pride. She asked her maid to gather her hair in a simple braid and pin it in a bun at the back of her head, neatly keeping it out of the way. 

“Yes, Lady Alysanne,” Queen Alicent answered, then only turned to look at her. “Please take a seat.”

Alysanne obeyed and sat on the edge of one of the sofas, smoothing her dress over her knees. She rested her hands on her lap, atop one another and kept her back straight, looking at the Dowager Queen patiently as she made her way down from the footstool and to the sofa, regarding Alysanne intensely. 

“Leave us,” Queen Alicent ordered the maid, and she waited until the girl had exited the room, the heavy door resonating, before sitting across from Alysanne. Alys forced herself to look the Queen in the eye, but her embarrassment must have shown on her face. Her cheeks were warm and she knew Aemond and her had been discovered. But more than the shame of word of their moment of intimacy going to the Queen’s ears, it was the fear of losing Aemond that clogged her throat.

Alysanne wanted to plead not to be sent away, but she knew she had a better chance of convincing the Queen if she showed dignity over begging, and so she kept her tongue.

“It seems you have been attending to two of my children instead of the one I had you called for,” the Dowager Queen said factually, and Alysanne knew her enough not to take her coldness for hostility. She had always appreciated the Queen’s bluntness and regarded it as a quality to emulate. 

“It is true Prince Aemond has requested my company quite often,” she confirmed.

“Almost every evening, Lady Alysanne,” the Queen corrected, and Alysanne felt her cheeks burn ever hotter and her eyes prickle with tears. “Private conversations in the library can be and have been tolerated, but last night was different. You met in his chambers,” came the accusation.

Alysanne nodded in silence, her shame showing in the set of her mouth and the tension in her hands. She cursed herself as she had known their transgression would not go unpunished yet had transgressed anyway —but the punishment would be hers, as there was no shame in a man finding pleasure in a woman, but there was in the reverse. Such was the order of things. 

“The last thing this House needs is scandal,” the Dowager Queen continued without consideration for Alysanne’s shame. “The King’s health is failing, the Prince Regent cannot allow scandal to befall on him.”

“Last night was a moment of weakness, your Grace. A moment of love,” Alysanne defended in a respectful but firm tone, raising her gaze to the other woman’s face again. She could only hope the sincerity of her feelings would show in her eyes. “I know it was wrong, but I swear it on all Seven Gods, Prince Aemond and I did not commit the forbidden act.” 

The Queen rose, keeping her eyes on Alysanne as she walked to a nearby chair, picking up a shawl and wrapping it around herself. From the open window, the morning breeze coming from the sea was quite chilly. “If I called for the Maester to verify your words, would he find them to be true?” she asked.

“Yes, my Queen, I swear to you,” Alysanne promised, rising from her seat to stand in front of the other woman. She wanted to share the truth of her feelings, only if it would help, as if she was to be sent away, she would rather go home with the privacy of her heart still intact.

“Speak the truth of what happened, and speak it plainly,” the Queen ordered, and Alysanne gladly did. Clutching the star-shaped necklace at her throat, she looked the older woman in the eyes as she explained what had taken place mere hours prior.

“We shared an embrace. They were improper intimacies, that I will admit to,” she confessed fervently, allowing her voice to carry her desperation at being forgiven. “But nothing has taken place that could result in children.” 

“What other truth do you have to tell me?”

At that Alysanne’s heart swelled in her chest and she felt a tear escape the corner of her eye. Still clutching the pendant, her other hand resting flat on her stomach, she pleaded for her queen’s understanding. “I love him, your Grace. I love Prince Aemond with all my heart, and I would do nothing that would bring him shame and dishonor.”

The Dowager Queen was silent for a moment, contemplating her words, and then her face softened slightly, as it often did when she spoke of her children and grandchildren. “Aemond has been happier, since he has been enjoying your company. I know you shared the same passion for reading and history as children, I had not expected this bond to thrive in adulthood. Or to cross the line of companionship to romantic inclinations,” she said, almost to herself, then her face and tone grew harder again. “I will not deny the sincerity of your love, but bring even the shadow of shame upon the Prince, and you will forever be buried in disgrace.”

“I understand, your Grace,” Alysanne nodded, and despite the hurt the words caused, she admired the Queen’s fervor in defending and protecting her children. She knew Aemond was well-loved by his mother, and that he drew his strength from her guidance. 

The Dowager Queen turned again, pacing the room as if she was seeking to regain her lost composure. Alys could see her sorrow in the line of her shoulders and back, much like she could see it in Aemond sometimes. She cleared her throat, crossing and uncrossing her wrists over her stomach a few times, keeping one of her hands flat on it, as if she was looking for strength inside of it. “The King…” she finally murmured, but it seemed she could go no further.

“I am aware, you Grace. I am so profoundly sorry,” Alysanne offered quietly, and the older woman stepped closer again. They were the same height, and as Queen Alicent looked upon her again, Alys realized they were closer in age than would be guessed at first glance. The Lady Alicent had been married young, and the toll it had taken on her was visible on her face, in the lines around her eyes and mouth. 

“You were a dutiful young girl, Alysanne, with admirable qualities of piousness, patience and honesty,” the Queen recounted and Alysanne thanked her quietly. “I have come to see those qualities in the woman you have become, and I can see why my son enjoys your company. Also, I owe you the return of my daughter to me.”

“I only did my duty as Queen Helaena’s friend, your Grace.”

“How come you never gave Lord Ormund any children?” she asked bluntly and suddenly, and in this instant Alysanne knew only the plain truth would help her. She did not like to speak ill of the dead, but anything less than total sincerity would not do. Her place at Aemond’s side was at stake, and there was nothing she would not do to ensure she would be allowed to remain at the Red Keep.

“My late husband and I never shared intimacies that could have resulted in children,” she replied just as bluntly, forcing her shame out of her tone. 

“And why is that? Why was your duty never performed?” 

“Because Lord Ormund could not perform his duty as a husband, your Grace,” she instantly answered, and the Queen’s eyebrows rose at her words. “It is the undignified truth. The burden I have had to bear, as a woman.” 

Both women stayed silent for a long minute, contemplating the words that had been exchanged since Alysanne had stepped into the room —their meaning, their implications, and their consequences. 

“Prince Aemond will soon ascend the throne. Any king needs a queen by his side, to guide him and support him. To rule by his side when need be, and to bear his heirs. Do you understand the importance, the significance of this duty?” the Queen asked, and Alysanne’s heart soared. She straightened her posture and raised her chin, composing herself before answering.

“Yes, your Grace.”

The Queen said nothing for a moment, then she raised her hand to Alysanne’s face, touching her cheekbone gently, then tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She smiled at her with a touch of sorrow and longing, and Alysanne wondered what was going on behind the woman’s dark eyes.

“You will make a good queen,” she murmured and Alysanne could not find her voice to thank her. Her heart felt like it would burst her chest open, and she wanted to cry out in joy. Instead she sank into a deep curtsy, lowering herself as far as she could without stumbling, bowing her head in respect. Soon it would be the reverse, the older queen would bow to the younger as the crown was passed from woman to daughter to sister-in-law. 

Queen Alicent dismissed her with another of her sad smiles, but there was a gentle spark behind her eyes, as if she could see something in Alysanne that she recognized. Whether it was a sense of kinship, or the shadow of a memory, Alys could not say. She pondered that question as she made her way to Helaena’s chambers like every morning, wondering if this day would bring another vision. 

However, when Alys entered the Queen’s rooms, all questions left her mind and she instantly stopped in her tracks; Helaena was dressed in a black gown, her hair covered by a veil.

— 

Aemond had started to mourn Aegon long before his flesh followed his soul into the grave. His brother had only been a shell for more than a year, occasionally moaning in pain, but Aemond knew in his stomach that his mind was gone, and that all that remained was torn flesh and a living hell of pain, for all involved. Their mother had devoted herself to the care of her son, much like she had cared for their father, and it was almost a relief to see his brother’s agony end, only for the freedom it would restore for her.

The throne was his, and with it all the heartache that came with inheriting a crown a bloody war had been fought over. As for the burden of this crown alone, the responsibilities of governing six kingdoms, of maintaining the realm united, they had already been his since he had been named Regent. He was to be crowned King in the morning, and despite his yearning for it since he was a boy, he did not feel any different than when he thought he would ever only be a prince. 

He had worn the crown already, bled for his duty and cried for it. In the morning he would only be given the title that came with the sacrifices he had already made. King in all but name, that was what he had been while his brother laid in agony. Such a small word it was, and yet such heartbreak it carried. To be named king was an honor and yet it was sad —a man only became king because the Stranger had taken the one before him, and the ghosts of all the kings past were hovering over the throne, like shadows floating among the melted swords.

“Aemond?” a gentle voice called out to him, pulling him out of his thoughts. Aemond rose to his feet where he had been praying at the altar of the Sept, on his knees before the Gods, asking for guidance for the upcoming coronation.

A few steps behind him, Alysanne was standing, dressed in black once more. 

“Alysanne,” he greeted her, and his voice sounded sad even to his own ears. She came to his side, kneeling in front of the altar, and the candles made her face glow in the darkness of the Sept. He knelt back where he had been before, and there they were, side by side in front of the Gods. She brought her hands together, weaving her fingers and he mirrored her.

Tomorrow the Sept would see a different scene, as they would come together not as Aemond and Alysanne, but as King and Queen. The Hand and the Septon had declared that the prospect of a strong reign needed to be presented to the lords and to the people after the horrors of the war. And so as he would be crowned king, so would she be crowned queen, and they would be bound together as man and wife. 

“Tomorrow our reign begins,” Aemond murmured, and yet it seemed to him that the words resonated in the Sept.

“So does our marriage,” Alysanne replied, and he hummed in agreement. He could tell there was something she wished to say, unspoken words that were only waiting for their time and he let her come to him. “Your sister saw me bearing a crown, but as you know, the Gods give and the Gods take.”

“Every reward demands a sacrifice,” Aemond confirmed, wondering what Alysanne had surrendered.

“We traded places. I become the Queen and she becomes the widow.”

“Her place as queen demands sacrifices,” Aemond understood. Just as his place and his crown bore the haunting presence of his father and brother, so the crown Alysanne would wear would bear its own ghosts, its own losses. It would bear the grief of mothers losing their sons, the grief of women losing the boys they had carried and birthed, only to watch their life be cut short by the fires and swords of revenge and hatred.

“I will not bear you any sons as long as Helaena is not reunited with her son in the heavens. As long as she lives, I will bear no male child,” Alysanne whispered, and when Aemond turned to look at her there was a tear rolling down her cheek. Her joined hands were trembling and he reached out to cover them with his own palm. She smiled and the tear dropped from the edge of her jaw to the back of his hand.

“Then I pray you never bear me any sons at all,” Aemond said, and he was glad to surrender his chance of fathering a male heir, if only it meant his sister would not go back behind the black veil, and his mother would be spared losing her only daughter. He had always known Helaena’s visions to be potent and tragic, and he knew bartering with the Gods was dangerous, but if this sacrifice was needed to keep the precarious equilibrium of this life they lived, then he would surrender to it.

—

A special thank you to @arcielee, my beta reader, and to @killergirlfuria for her edits and input on this chapter.

—

Comment to be added to the taglist. Reblog to show love.

Aemond taglist: @darkenchantress @bellameshipper @itscatlien-blog @yentroucnagol @castellomargot @cardi-bre91 @avengingangelfanfic @malfoytargaryen @mari0302 @iamfandomnerd @diosademuerte @hb8301 @serrhaewinn @mariannnavao @pasta-rask @svtansdaddyx @its-sam-allgood @amarillys92 @beaconofthehightower @i-mushi @namgification @anditsmywholeheart @dahlias-and-marigolds @elleclairez @esmeralda-tupi @merovingianprincess @marvelita85 @partypoison00 @nina2697 @helaenaluvr @llearlert @666cherrybby666 @m1tzifa1ry @malfoytargaryen @girlwith-thepearlearring @llearlert @greenowlfactif @babyblue711 @moonmaiden1996 @yentroucnagol

—

#fanfiction #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #aemond x oc #hotd x oc #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #aemond x reader #ewan mitchell #house targaryen #house tyrell

[slocumjoe]

companions react to sole being really sick but insisting to work anyways. they literally won’t sit down and they’re probably gonna fall out in a few minutes if they don’t

Companions react to Sick Sole that is In Denial

Aka the prompt that called high-school me tf out

Cait; Wrestles them into bed, hunts for cough syrup, force feeds. By wrestle, I mean "gently pushes until they fall over." Gives them alcohol and keeps away. Cait doesn't often get sick, but when she does, oh boy...Sole would never hear the end of it if she caught their shit. Will find spicy snacks for them to eat, to accommodate their lost sense of taste. Because Cait cares like that.

Codsworth; Absolutely not. Will use as colorful language as he can stomach to convince Sole to retire for a bit. Follows them around Sanctuary throwing a hissy-fit. Well...as much as Codsworth can throw a fit. Gets increasingly indignant. If Sole passes out before he can shepard them back home, he will consider duct-taping them to their bed, just for safety. He makes them soup and hand/claw-feeds them. Good luck sleeping with three robot eyes watching you like a hawk.

Curie; Pesters. Following them around with a rollup mattress for when they inevitably collapse. Recites a monolog about wellness and self care until they do. Very cross. Sole thinks they're hallucinating, seeing her glare and scold them. Makes their medicine herself; doesnt trust wasteland 'doctors' enough, and worries about such old, Pre-war medicine. Might start sticking things up their nose, or something, for samples.

Danse; A soldier refusing to seek attention and rest is not going to last long. He will also manhandle them, but not until they're already falling over. Makes a nasty ass...tea thing, that's great for colds/flus. Its. So. Gross. Danse knows how to make it because he himself refuses to stop working for sick rest. Hypocrite. If on the field, will personally tend to them. If not, leaves it to Cade, or any other doctor. Pesters said doctor enough he might get a clipboard thrown at him.

Deacon; Makes a similar, nastier tea thing. Spikes it with soda. Not to make it taste better. The soda is punishment to remind himself to never get sick again because it makes it fucking demonic. It makes Sole throw up and the force knocks them out. Rolls them up in a blanket burrito, raids the nearest pharmacy, and prepares a disguise. When Sole awakes, 50/50 chance they'll recognize its him.

Gage; What, is he their fucking mom? If they want to crack their head open passing out, that's their idiot choice to make. Except no it isn't, because he needs them alive, so Gage bitches the whole time, but he drags them kicking and screaming to bed. Throws medicine at them and tells them to quit being a baby. He's not getting too close to them right now. Hell. No. Also a baby himself about getting sick.

Hancock; Hancock isn't the type to tell someone how to handle themselves. He'll privately worry, and maybe hint that they should take a damn break, but until it gets bad enough they're half-way down to the floor, its not his business. When they're faceplanting, he'll step in. Also gives them some booze. He'll try to cook for them, but...uh. Chips and soda is good for colds, right? Right? [SOUNDS OF CURIE SCREAMING IN THE DISTANCE]

MacCready; Lucy was a doctor. He's got this. Or so he thinks, right up until Sole refuses to acknowledge their own illness. Okay. Shi–uuucks. What did Lucy do when he was being stubborn? Uh...that's not appropriate with Sole...what if he—Sole...? Sole–! Oh. Okay. That works. Just has to drag them into bed now. Spends extra caps for the good medicine, and for once, makes proper food. Sole remembers learning that he knows how to make his own noodles during this incident. MacCready tells them they were hallucinating.

Nick; Stands straight, crosses his arms, looks at them expectantly. Just waits. Grabs them before their legs give out, hauls them up over a shoulder, and straight to the doc's. Doc says bed, Sole is in bed. While they're out of commission for the week, plans out his lecture. It's not healthy for the brain nor body to keep moving when everything is telling you to quit. He's sarcastically coddling.

Piper; Also guilty of trying to power through. Piper is also an opportunist, however, and the moment she sees their guard fall, sees a moment of weakness, she's shoving them into their bedroom. Sole barely notices the change of environment. Canned soup, crackers, tea...and because Piper is just the best, she'll make them a dessert she often makes for Nat. Rice pudding, tarberry shortcake, she's even made honey custard. Something sweet and easy on the stomach.

Preston; Like Codsworth, chases them down begging them to just go the fuck to bed. Grabs them by the scruff of their neck before they hit dirt. Like Nick, sasses them the whole time, even if he is doting on them like a fussy mom. Remember Cait and her spicy snacks? Preston throws whatever spices he has into their meals. Hope Sole has a high spice tolerance.

X6-88; Grabs and warps to the Institute. If the Institute is gone, grabs and drags them to a doctor. He could try tending to them, but similar to Hancock, you will quickly regret asking. It's better to just have him go get medicine. He's somewhat fascinated over the concept, though. Cousers rarely get sick. And the once or twice X6 was, it was just an irritated throat or a headache. Sole is melting and yet they're expected to recover. Fascinating.

#fo4 #fallout 4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #piper wright #nick valentine #x6-88 #robert joseph maccready #companions react #hancock #porter gage #Codsworth #for the one codsy fan in the back

[late-to-the-fandom]

Daily Writing Challenge - February 2024

Throwing myself headfirst out of the moving car that is my many-months hiatus and into the roadside ditch that is writing again, I have challenged myself to write for the @daily-writing-challenge's February prompts every day this week. The goal: remember how writing - particularly finishing a piece of writing - works. These will all be snippets from Prince Renathal and companion's continued adventures in the Dragon Isles (full stories here). Will they be any good? Probably not. But they will be done (maybe).

Day 1: Flirt - 600 words, no warnings

The saviour of Azeroth and the Shadowlands, champion of the Horde, former archmage and famous Maw Walker lay her weary body back against the sun-warmed grass and closed her eyes with a final, defeated sigh.

The Dark Prince raised one eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Not giving up already, are you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Oh, please,” he scoffed, pushing off the railing with a clunk of plate armour and descending the ancient stone staircase toward his motionless companion. “You cannot give up. I know you too well. You are incapable of accepting defeat.”

“First time for everything," was her petulant reply.

Renathal’s wordless disapproval was a masterful sound, full of throaty skepticism and dubiously clicking fangs. Elisewin refused to acknowledge it. Her eyes remained shut, limp arms drowned in the swaying grass, determinedly ignoring the vibrant butterflies fluttering curiously around her wild, windswept fan of dark hair.

Coming to a stop beside her would-be corpse, Renathal tried a different tact.

“An ignominious end for such an illustrious hero.” He announced the words like a eulogy, gesticulating elegantly to his audience of butterflies, who showed no obvious interest. “Imagine - grappling with gods, conquering whole armies, destroying any number of mountainous beasts, only to be beaten by -”

“It’s so stupid,” spat Elisewin suddenly from the ground. Her eyes snapped open in a blaze of blue-white fury. “It’s such a stupid, ridiculous test of an even more ridiculous practice, and I don’t see why I should have to learn it. I was perfectly happy with my old Undercity bat. Slow and steady. That thing -” She twisted her head to throw an accusatory glance at the proto-drake sniffing the bushes at the base of the nearby cliff. “It reacts to the slightest movement! I can’t even breathe without it changing direction. And it goes too fast!”

“I have never known you to mind fast. You usually request it,” remarked Renathal playfully.

Elisewin narrowed her eyes at him instead.

“Don’t flirt with me when I’m frustrated.”

Renathal laughed aloud at that. Mustering all her available dignity, Elisewin turned her face pointedly away from him and closed her eyes again.

“And I mean it. I’m done. I’ve tried sixteen times now, and I'm all over bruises. I am not trying it again. I’ll just walk everywhere.”

Wholly undaunted, Renathal swallowed the last of his laughter and fixed his tone into something that might have been mistaken for sympathy by someone who did not know him well.

“Very well, dearest, if you are certain." He stepped around her studiously still form and headed towards her waiting mount, calling behind him: “You can simply ride alongside me. I am happy to take the lead. I, personally, do not find the practice particularly taxing. Then again, I am much older, with a greater reservoir of power to draw from. You can hardly hold yourself to my standard."

A rustle of grass, a low groan, then a series of furious soft-soled footsteps assured Renathal this last hand had won. He turned expectantly, already holding out the proto-drake’s cracked leather reins. Elisewin snatched them from him. Her lavender glower as she swung one leg over the bulky creature's back only made Renathal smile.

“Ah,” he declared in affectionate triumph, propping himself against the rocky cliffside to watch his lover's seventeenth attempt. “That is the Maw Walker I know."

It was Elisewin’s turn to scoff. She wriggled uncomfortably, settling back into the saddle. Fixing her grim expression on the looming tower at the top of the cliff, she declared to the wilderness around them:

“I’d take the Maw over dragon riding any day.”

#daily writing challenge #wow fanfiction #dragon isles #renathal x maw walker #renathal fan fiction #prince renathal #fanfiction #world of warcraft #shadowlands #dragonflight #and there was only one dragon! #domestic fluff #elisewin #the maw walker #nightborne

[nspwriteups]

Aarampam - Part 1

Been planning this collab with @whippersnappersbookworm for a long time..do read and review guys

It has been three months since Vanathi has left Kodumbalur . Three months have passed since she left her childhood home and moved to Pazhayari. Back in Kodumbalur, Vanathi was always the apple of everyone's eyes, since her mother had passed away, her father dedicated all his time in her upbringing. He took care of her all by himself, coddling her , and spoiling her with everything she wanted.But happiness was a temporary guest in Vanathi's life , her father died when she was just nine years old in the battle of Eezham , leaving his young daughter to deal with the cruel world on her own. That day changed everything for Vanathi, she transformed from a happy- go- lucky child to a quiet introvert girl who lacked confidence. Her uncle and aunt tried their best to make her comfortable and loved , but Vanathi refused to open up to anyone, she spent most of her time all alone in the gardens of Kodumbalur dreaming about the son she will have one day. She wholeheartedly believed that her father will come back to her in the form of her son, her son will solve every problem in her life, he will make her the happiest person in this world. 

Few months back her uncle finally put his foot down and decided to send her to Pazhayari so she can become friends with the Ilayi Priratti , who can groom her to become a better princess. Vanathi tried her best to convince her uncle , she tried everything from crying to giving up food but his uncle didn't budge from his decision . He had many big ambitions for her , and he believed that getting acquainted with ilavarasi is the very first step towards that path. So unfortunately teary-eyed Vanathi had to board the palanquin which took her to the Pazhayari palace , a place that later became the home she always craved for. 

She had heard of Ilaiya Piratti Kundavai Devi - the formidable, intelligent and gracious only daughter of the Emperor, the woman that the citizens claim is the real brain behind royal politics. What would she think of her? When she first came to Pazhaayari, she saw Sembiyan Madevi welcome her with an aarti while Kundavai watched from the side. 

"Welcome to Pazhaayari Kanne. I hope you will find your happiness here" Madevi said while placing a hand over her head. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw some other women, who she guessed must be the companions of Ilaiya Piratti sneering at her and whispering among themselves and her heart sank. Happiness? She might as well drown in Ponni now than suffer all the teasing from them. Why did her uncle choose such a fate for her? What did he mean that this stay is going to change her life? As she watched Periya Piratti Madevi go inside, she also noticed Kundavai was still standing at her spot, scrutinising her with her dark eyes. 

"Kodumbalur Ilavarasi" she addressed her in a majestic tone "Would you like to join me in the gardens for a while?" 

Vanathi could only nod and silently followed the former into the spacious gardens accompanied by some of the other women.

As they reached the gardens, Kundavai suddenly turned around and asked, "Ilavarasi, I have heard you are a good singer. And it is evident you have a sweet voice. Could you sing a thevaram for us?" 

Vanathi was shocked at this request to say the least. But she quickly collected her wits and sang a thevaram that she liked by Thirugnana Sambander. She closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at the envious and taunting gaze of the other onlookers and immersed herself in singing the thevaram as best as she could, not to impress the Chola Ilaiya Piratti but because singing gave her a momentary relief from her overthinking. When she finished singing and opened her eyes, she saw Kundavai smiled openly at her. "You are truly blessed with a sweet voice, Kanne. May your voice echo in these palatial chambers for everyone to hear and be mesmerized" Vanathi's heart skipped a beat after hearing these words uttered by Kundavai and a beautiful smile was etched on her face. 

"Of course, she must be here to charm our dear Ponniyin Selvan" She suddenly heard one of Kundavai's companions remark in a half-whisper. "She's an orphan. It is clear she brings misfortune to all who surround her" The smile that was present a second ago disappeared and she felt tears pricking her eyes no matter how much she tried to blink it away. She didn't see Kundavai fix the speaker with a stern look. "If you knew any better, you would remember never to judge a book by its cover. If my Thambi gets impressed by her inherent qualities, can you judge her Sugatha?" Kundavai asked in a grave tone. The girl who taunted Vanathi looked ashamed. "Forgive me for my recklessness Iliya Piratti"

Kundavai sighed and turned to a surprised Vanathi "Ilavarasi, I would like to personally escort you to your chamber" and looking back at the girls she added "All of you can go to the temple and prepare for the evening Pooja. I'll join you presently" 

Vanathi followed the former into the palace " Thank you for standing up for me Ilaiya Piratti" She said softly, voice dripping with gratitude. Kundavai glanced at her in amusement. "You don't know Ilavarasi, I am always correcting their behaviour. These girls have a habit of making wayward comments about each other. Do you know who they are?" Vanathi shook her head.

"They are girls from other Samatha kingdoms and noble families, left in my care to transform them into eligible brides. I am adamant in giving them the education and training they need in life but for my Thambi's bride ...." She gave Vanathi a once-over "Perhaps I may not have to look any further now that you are here " 

Vanathi was shocked to say the least. Her as a potential bride for the Chola Kula Surya Manikkam? "Iliya Piratti, how can I ever be eligible for the brave and radiant Ponniyin Selvan, the heartthrob of every girl in Chozha Naadu?" 

Kundavai gave her a reassuring smile " I know the world sees you as timid and I also learnt from your uncle that you are prone to fainting spells. But I believe that every woman is an avatar of Adi Parashakti and I'll help you discover the courage that resides in you" Vanathi stared at the woman in front of her. This is why people say she is the brain of the royal family! An idea germinated in her mind - yes, she will become strong. She will become the Vanathi that Kundavai aspires to see and show the world her true self. She nodded in determination "Thank you Iliya Piratti"

Kundavai continued to smile at her "I don't have a sister. Could you be that for me? If yes then you can call me Akka from now, Vanathi" She said gently.

Vanathi was floating on cloud nine by now. She came here unwillingly to what she assumed was to be an apprentice under Kundavai Devi and now she became a part of the family in the same day. Maybe this journey was going to be life-changing for her as her uncle mentioned.

"Yes Akka" She said fondly looking at the woman she began to feel great admiration for.

Since that day Vanathi had ended up becoming Kundavai's shadow, she had won Illiya Piratti's heart with her innocence and simplicity. Kundavai's influence on the other hand has  also transformed the introverted Vanathi into a bright , cheerful girl. She took extra care to make sure her Uyir Thozhi is comfortable in Pazhayarai, she took Vanathi with her to the temples and the various functions she has to attend , gives her private lessons and tells her tales about his beloved thambi: Ponniyin Selvan.

Vanathi has been hearing this name since she was child , she had heard tales about his beauty , his intelligence, his benevolence . He is a jewel of the Chozha Nadu adored by everyone, he is every girl's heartthrob, but Vanathi couldn't be less interested. Even though Kundavai akka had repeatedly told her how she is perfect for her thambi and how he is perfect for her , Vanathi never felt overjoyed at the prospect of marriage with The Chola Ilavarasan. Unlike the other girls Vanathi never dreamed of getting married; her daydreams only had one man in it , her future son.  Although she he had recently learned from the gossip of the Anthapuram that a child is impossible without marriage ,but somehow she could never imagine being married to a prince and leading a life of a queen like Sembiyan Mahadevi or Vanavan Mahadevi , that life doesn't interest her. Rather she always wanted a simple life, a life filled with love and simpler joys . She wanted a husband who would make her laugh, share his life with her. Can a prince do that? Can Ponniyin Selvan ever understand that?

Vanathi didn't had the answer to it. 

Want to see AMV and Vanathi meet up? Stay tuned to the next part..

@ramcharanobsessed @dumdaradumdaradum @vibishalakshman @harinishivaa @hollogramhallucination @kovaipaavai@rang-lo. @willkatfanfromasia@thelekhikawrites@thegleamingmoon@deafeningflowercat@yehsahihai@whippersnappersbookworm@itsfookingloosah@gemsmusings@chiyaanvikram@elvenladysakura. @matka-kulfi. @madatdisney@bumblebeeskywalker@vahnithedreamer@nkarti@dosai-maavu@utterlynotperfect@winter-birds@happy-bookworm @tumbledout @anabanana4115 @freeunknownwasteland @bhataktiatmacore@rapunzels-stuff@celestesinsight@mairablue@rationalelderberry@existenceiswhateven@arachneofthoughts@spider5884fan11 @cara-2003 @nirmohi-premika @stella12 @thereader-radhika

#ponniyin selvan #ponniyin selvan 2 #arulmozhi #vanathi #kundavai #arulmozhi varman #vanmozhi

[dragondemoness]

Heyy how are you??

I hope you wouldn’t mind my 100th request atm, also spoilers down here😭…

Could I request Mondo Oowada, Leon Kuwata and Mikan Tsumiki With a S/O who basically died/got executed the same way as Korekiyo Shinguji did?? (Bonus: maybe they find out that the reader killed the “person” the same way korekiyo did as well?)

Please inform me privately if this request makes you uncomfortable or if you just wanna delete it, I’ll understand.

Thanks!

Yooo! I'm good, you?

Nah, of course I don't mind. I love doing your requests :3

Ngl, this was pretty fun x3 Hope you like this

Mondo, Leon and Mikan with an S/O who Killed and got Killed like Korekiyo Shinguji

Mondo Owada 

When his bro Taka got killed, he was pissed

Especially in the manner he was killed in

He was glad you were still with him though

But he was hellbent on finding out who killed his bro

You helped him look for clues and you were by his side when you all came together for the trial

The trial was painfully long, but later into it, the evidence was starting to point to you

Mondo was even more pissed

No way could you be the killer!

"You're fucking delusional! (Name) would never kill my bro! Check your evidence again, you dumb shits!"

He fought Makoto and Kyoko to the best of his ability, but they weren't backing down

They just presented more evidence that proved it was you

Then the end of the trial came, and everyone voted for you

Mondo was just getting even more enraged

He refused to believe you could be a killer

But Monokuma declared that you were in fact the killer

Then he turned to you

"Is it true?"

His voice was so quiet, exhausted by all the yelling he had been doing

Then you smiled and said something that shattered him forever

"Yes. I am the killer."

On the inside, he was still struggling to believe it

Then his anger returned, and he curled his hand into a fist and started yelling again

If you're a guy, he would've socked the shit outta you

"You fucking asshole! Why the fuck did you kill my bro?! How could you do that to me, you damn traitor?!"

Your face turned serious

"It was for my sister."

He stopped for a second, his eyes widening in surprise

"What?"

"She did not approve of your dear 'brother's' behavior. He was fighting over Alter Ego as if she belonged to him. That's no way to treat a woman. I had to kill him and that... filthy scum in order to keep her safe."

Mondo could barely even wrap his head around what you were saying

He remembered you talking about your sister with admiration, but he didn't think it was this serious

"Did I not mean a damn thing to you?!"

"Hm... Well, you were a nice temporary companion to take her place. But I'm afraid you could never hold a candle to her. And now, the time has come for us to be reunited..."

At this point, Mondo was out of words

He couldn't even express how disgusting the whole thing was

But now, it was time for you to face your punishment

Mondo couldn't even watch as Monokuma dragged you off to your execution

But when he did look up, he saw something incredibly disturbing

You were boiled to death, then your sister betrayed you and erased your ghost as well

At the end, Mondo couldn't even be angry anymore

He had lost his best friend, and his significant other

Some of the others tried to comfort him, but he wasn't having it

After the trial, he trudged back to his room and flopped down on the bed

He's not sure if he can keep going after this

Leon Kuwata 

Seeing the bodies of Hifumi and Taka horrified him

Hifumi was weird and Taka was annoying, but damn, they didn't deserve this

Honestly, he's probably gonna stay as far away from the bodies as possible

You can investigate if you want, but count him out

When it came time for the trial, he mainly just listened to what the others were saying while trying to cope with the situation

He started to zone out after a while, but when they started to accuse you, he was on high alert

"Huh? Wait, what do you mean (Name)'s the killer?! They wouldn't do that kind of disgusting shit!"

Boy, was he furious

No matter what Makoto and Kyoko said, he refused to listen

"No! I refuse to acknowledge you! They're not the killer! You're stupid, both of you! Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

And when you were voted out, think of how he reacted when he was exposed as the killer during the first trial

He was in complete and utter shock

So you really did kill them?

"Why...?"

That's all he could force out

"I had to. For her."

"Who the hell's 'her?!'"

"My sister. She found Hifumi and Kiyotaka's behavior to be revolting. They treated Alter Ego like their property, and that's no way to treat a woman. They needed to be dealt with."

Leon didn't even know what to think about this

"You're fucking sick. You murdered two people because of some stupid delusion?! Didn't I mean anything to you?!"

You smiled at him

"Well, you certainly drove away the loneliness I felt in my sister's absence.  I will remember you well in the afterlife. But I'm afraid my dear sister matters more to me."

Leon couldn't even watch as you were dragged off to your execution

Though he found himself speechless when your own sister turned her back on you

He never believed in ghosts, but what he saw was legit

He's not sure if he can keep going after that

Mikan Tsumiki

She was horrified when Sonia and Ibuki were announced dead

Hiyoko is replaced by Sonia because it's more fitting

Her last two friends from Hope's Peak were gone, and she didn't know what to do

But she had to perform an autopsy on their bodies, so she needed to push past her fear and do what had to be done

Then it was time to head down to the trial

She clung onto your arm the whole time

Your presence was comforting for her

Mikan provided useful info from her autopsies, but she couldn't make heads or tails of who the killer was

When the signs started pointing to you, she was horrified 

"Wh-What?! N-No, that can't be right! (Name) c-can't be the killer! It's impossible!"

She tried to defend you as best as she could, but even she was starting to wonder if it was true

But even when you were voted out, she still couldn't believe it

Her dear sweet s/o, a killer?

"N-No, that has to be wrong! They c-can't be the killer! R-Right?"

But now that you were caught, yoi saw no point in hiding anymore

Mikan was devastated that you killed someone

Two people, at that

"(Name)... Why did you do this?"

"For her."

"Huh?"

"My sister. She left my side quite some time ago. I didn't want her to be lonely in the afterlife, so I killed those girls so they could be friends with her."

Mikan could hardly believe what she was hearing

You committed a murder, two murders, for your sister who's long dead

Did Mikan even mean anything to you?

Unfortunately, she didn't have time to ask as you were being dragged off to your execution

This one was by far the most disturbing 

She wanted so badly to look away, but her eyes were glued to the screen

It was even worse that your own sister betrayed you

Mikan never thought about ghosts or whatever, but knowing that you wouldn't be there in the afterlife was pretty upsetting

After that, she was completely shattered

She didn't know if she could move forward from it, or if she could even try

#danganronpa #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #danganronpa goodbye despair #mondo owada x reader #leon kuwata x reader #mikan tsumiki x reader