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pearlywritings · 7 months

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Sometimes the name doesn't matter

synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife. PART 2

pairings: Capitano, Kaveh, Tighnari, Zhongli x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, hurt/comfort; hybrids, unwelcomed courting, kind of female objectification (all in Tighnari's part)

word count: 6.9k+ words

a/n: part 1 can be read here!

Capitano

Fast elegant fingers of a pianist run across the keys of black and white and the violins in the hands of other musicians are there to serve together with the chorus of beautiful voices, selected by Lady Columbina personally. The music infiltrates the souls of the nobles present, filling them with the sense of grandeur and glory, touching even their harsh unfeeling hearts.

The atmosphere of the gathering is gratifying, would’ve even been endearing if not for the stately figures of the Harbingers standing on both sides of the throne, where the Tsaritsa would've been seated had she not decided to refrain from attending it altogether. She has more important matters to take care of, and nine of her most loyal servants can definitely fill in her place on that yearly event.

Sure, this year it is more important since the two Harbingers are missing and the seats stay vacant - it's been the talk of the nation. Who is going to be nominated? Can it be influenced? Will they claim the names today?

Is the mysterious Commander, whose arrival became the topic of multiple speculations, be the one? A fierce warrior many heard of, but almost none saw face to face. The man was believed to be as powerful as the 11th Harbinger or maybe even the 10th! Having an army and an establishment of his own on the farthest line of the Snezhnayan border, he still is under the command of Lord Capitano, which makes it even harder to fish any more information than what is already known to the public.

"I only heard about him. He and his troops are protecting our borders from the monster's invasion in the North."

"Ew, who would've wanted to live in the North! It's much harsher than all the Snezhnaya."

"Shush, the Commander is wealthy and respectful, you can bear some cold."

"What do you imply?"

"The Commander is unmarried, there is no way he isn't, not with a life like this. But it can always be changed, and the woman he takes as wife would be one of the luckiest ones!"

"You are right… Maybe he is actually handsome. Maybe he'd be even willing to buy a whole mansion for his promised one and not take her with him to that awful place. Maybe…"

Maybe, maybe, maybe. It travels through the crowds like a storm in its wake, eventually reaching the Harbingers, who, for the first time after appearing and greeting the already arrived, stop resembling the statues. Eyes shift among the people and each other; some gazes hold interest, some - annoyance. Only Pantalone has an ever present smile on his face, fingers clasped in front of him and sapphire rings sparkle in the ballroom light.

"Looks like Capitano's estimated soldier caught everyone's attention. My, my, how curious and nosy the people can be…"

"I understand the curiosity though," admits Childe, arms crossed to prevent laying even a finger on his blade, that is resting on his hip. "This person sounds like an interesting specimen… I've heard of his talents in both strategy and tactics, and it seems like his strength is a legend. I'd love to spar with him."

"Oh you, thinking only about fights, young man," Pulcinella disapprovingly shakes his head and raises his cane to point in the gingerhead's direction. "I highly doubt our guest will have time to spare, considering the period of time concerning the stay that was mentioned in the letter we received."

"And I believe the majority of that time would be spent with Il Capitano, isn't it right?" Columbina's soft voice must be drowning in the music, but everyone hears her loud and clear.

"..." The Harbinger stays silent and nothing can be read from his body language since he is the only one remaining still in his place, his huge looming figure resembling one of the full-set armor nobles like putting in their halls as a part of interior. Except this one isn't empty.

"So much potential to become my test subject, to be perfected... Yet lost to the lands of Northern regions," Dottore huffs in disappointment, his sharp teeth peaking when he clicks his tongue. "Say, Pierro, can't things be rearranged? I'd happily have our dear border protector as my underling."

The silence between the nine suddenly becomes thick. There is something indescribably tense in the air and only Childe can't understand why some of his colleagues seem to be more interested in how the Captain would react and not the 1st of the Harbingers..

"You know why this can't be rearranged, Dottore," the stare of an icy blue eye would pin everyone to the ground, destroying their will and order to obey, though doing little to scare the Doctor. "And it was favored by the Tsaritsa herself."

The finality of the short statement makes the scientist back down from the proposition he's been bringing up every time the topic touches the Commander, yet ending up the same way as always - with an ultimate rejection.

Three heavy thuds make everyone in the room fall silent. Many heads turn to look at the ceremonial staff hitting the floor the last time and staying still in the hand of a tall, thoroughly dressed man.

"The protector of the Northern border, the glorified and esteemed warrior of Her Majesty Tsaritsa, The Commander has arrived," the master's of ceremonies voice carries like a thunderclap, cutting off the quite leisurely music the orchestra was playing for the dances and entertainment.

The rustle of note sheets is fleeting and not a moment later the musicians straighten in their seats, taking a deep breath. Trumpets boom in a spacious room and make nobles shiver in surprise, some especially susceptible women even lean on their partners for support. The choir and the violins join the triumphant song the brass instruments sing, signaling that the time has come.

Everyone holds their breath as the tall heavy doors leading to the ballroom are being pulled open. Everyone has their gaze glued to a slowly growing gap. Everyone keeps their eyes wide open, afraid that even one blink can cost them missing the legendary sight.

Everyone gasps.

The tall figure enters, posture straight and shoulders squared, confidence evident in every step. Black satin clothes are adorned with golden chains and intricate patterns. The white military coat stayed resting on the shoulders - showing off the position, the closeness to the Harbingers. And then there is the face - a scar crossing the left brow, calm bored eyes, not sparing anyone a glance, which do not fit the other female features of your face.

Yes, the Commander happens to be a woman.

Stopping by the steps leading to the throne, you bow - not kneel, bow, - holding your open palm by the heart and respectfully closing your eyes. Music stops.

“Greetings, my lords. Let Tsaritsa bless you and your mission.”

“Let Tsaritsa bless you and your service to her,” Pierro says, raising his hand. “Lift your head,” which you do, looking him right in the eyes, yet still holding your hand by the chest. “There is time for duties and there is time for entertainment. And tonight, given your rare visits to the capital, I suggest you enjoy the latter.”

“Much obliged, Lord Pierro.”

And with a wave of the older man’s hand, the orchestra starts a new composition, waking up the ones who were in a daze, reminding others they are here for drama.

And the first one to take action is the 11th Harbinger.

“Commander, Sir- I mean, Lady?” The gingerhead is the closest to you out of all his colleagues, having only to descend a few steps to be on your level. “I’ve heard a lot about you, many admirable things. How do you look at sparring?”

“Right in the middle of a ballroom? Quite positively, young man,” your lips twist in a half-smirk, baring a sharp pearly canine. “But I believe the nobles have already had enough shock to take and rumors to create. Maybe another time. Haven’t seen you before though. Are you new?”

“Tartaglia, the Eleventh Harbinger, Lady Commander.”

“Ma’am would be enough,” you click your tongue, glancing behind and noticing how slowly, but surely some of the aristocrats are inching towards you, clearly interested in conversation, Well, you are not. “On second thought, starting a duel right now and here doesn’t sound like a bad idea…”

“I’ve always known you are quite insane,” Arlechino butts her way in the conversation, giving you only a small nod as a greeting. You simply glance at her.

“For years I’ve been hearing of my insanity, think of something new,”

“How about, ‘the one who knows no limits’?” Pantalone’s smile is as dazzling as it’s fake and sometimes your hands are itching to strangle the man. Maybe even go all the way out and bite his head off. Literally.

“The only ones who know no limits are the wind and the stupidity. I’m neither. Who I am though,” your gaze travels higher, to the steps closest to the Tsaritsa’s throne, to there Pierro and the first three Harbingers are standing, “is a wife. And I’d like to have a dance with my husband.”

Not many heard your words, but the ones who did, gasp loudly, staring at you with wide eyes. Which get even wider when Il Capitano, a seemingly motionless statue before, turns in his place and, without a pause, steadily descends to you. Now, as you are standing so closely it becomes evident how obviously your outfits match. The chains, the patterns, even the precious stones - everything. Perhaps it is terrifyingly cute. Perhaps it's cutely terrifying.

“Husband,” your smile again, offering him your hand, which he immediately envelopes in his big clawed one.

“Wife,” is the first word the big figure rumbles for the evening, the void of its helmet staring at you. And that’s all you speak to each other, hearing the beginning of another melody and turning to join the dancing pairs.

“...What was that?” Childe voices what’s been plaguing the minds of the attendees. “First the Commander appears to be a woman, and now she is married to the Lord Il Capitano?” He glances at Pulcinella, who joins his side and decides to watch the pair that caused a commotion have their fun. “Do they not use their names?”

“They find no sense in them,” the Rooster answers just the last question. “And,” he lowers his voice and the ginger has to bend down to hear the next words, “I didn’t tell you that, but the Captain really loves calling her his wife. So be quite cautious while seeking a fight with her. You might end up impaled. By either of them.”

Kaveh

With a soft smile you watch a group of children merrily leaving their classroom, interrupting each other in attempts to tell everyone how exciting the lesson was. They do not forget to grin and wave at you, passing by, and you return the sentiment, contently observing their happy faces and sparkly eyes.

Every time this happens, a strange sense of fulfillment overtakes you - supporting and sponsoring Kaveh was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. The greatest architect of nowadays is offering his guidance to the young generation, teaching them everything about beauty and practicality, helping them to develop their own creative vision, and at the same time boosting the confidence of kids of all ages. And you couldn’t be prouder of him.

Him, who meticulously prepares for every single lesson. Him, who is oh-so-gentle with his words and precise in his speech. Him, who teaches both Sumeru citizens and people coming from abroad. Him, who is as passionate about it, as he is about his designing job, telling you every single detail of how the lessons went on your way home or over the dinner. Him, who is happy and who makes you happy too with that fact alone.

When the last kid leaves, marking the ending of the final class for today, you glance at the clock. Now Mister Meticulousness will need half an hour to tidy up the classroom and put all the tools away. Tomorrow is free from classes at his (he always corrects your as in the both of you) school, so you can collect your stuff as well - after all, being the manager of this establishment and Kaveh specifically requires your presence. You can be strict and unyielding whenever he can’t and this partnership proves to be successful every day.

Just as you are writing down some financial staff, there is a soft knock on the doorframe. Immediately lifting your eyes you hum, observing a very good-looking woman and a boy, shyly holding onto her hand.

“Hello, how can I help you?” With a quill laid on top of your accounting book, you stand and round the table, offering the two to step closer.

“Ah, hello, miss…” eyes with long, pretty lashes flit to the name tag attached to your clothes, “...Y/n. This is master Kaveh’s artistic school, am I correct?”

“Yes, you are. Are you here to sign your boy up for a class?” You offer her son a sweet smile and he answers you with a small lift of his lips.

“Mhm. You see, he is a big fan of master Kaveh and his works - can study the pictures of his designs taken by Kamera day and night.”

At that, the boy lowers his gaze and blushes a little, digging a hole in the ground with the tip of his shoe.

“Oh, really?” A gasp that escapes your chest is one of excitement. “That’s marvelous! I am sure your hopefully soon-to-be-teacher will be very interested in hearing your opinion of his works, young connoisseur,” he giggles, lifting his eyes at you again, and there you see undisguised delight. “Oh, but my bad, I didn’t ask your names…”

The woman’s lips bare two rows of perfectly white teeth as she smiles at you, introducing herself and her son.

“We are from Fontaine actually. But my parents wanted to spend some indefinite period of time in Sumeru for their health and we decided to join them. So while we are here, I thought I’d make my son’s dream come true.”

“That’s so nice of you,” you can’t help but admire her a little for that. “I can tell you first a little about our school, you’ll ask all the questions you need to, and then I’ll show you around. Kaveh should be done with cleaning by then, so there’s a big chance you’ll even talk to him personally.”

“Really!?” That’s the first time throughout your entire interaction when the boy opens his mouth and actually makes a sound. “Master Kaveh is here right now?”

“He is. But can’t promise a long conversation - there are still blueprints waiting for him back at home.

“Ah, right… He is the great architect after all,” the woman hums, staring to the side as if in thought. “Between the commissions he takes and this school he must be making good money. Not to mention so handsome…”

Oh… What a familiar tone, what a familiar look in those eyes. Suddenly that ounce of respect you felt for her disappears.

“Money is irrelevant to him as long as he reaches his goal,” is your restrained response.

“Ah, of course! Handsome, sweet, kind, good with kids and is not a snob. Sweety, you ought to charm him for me!” She pinches her son’s cheek. “Imagine Master Kaveh as your daddy!”

Oh Archons, again?

There is absolutely no doubt that the light of Kshahrewar is not only well-known and popular among kids, but is thirsted after by women. In a half of a year your school has been existing, there were numerous times when moms of little students made comments alike or some single females trying to schedule private sessions with the architect. What a sagacious decision it was to make group studying only, it saves you some drama, once the legal document is shown. Though there are exceptionally persistent examples…

But this time you pity the kid a little, because he genuinely seems to admire Kaveh. And his next words make you internally cheer for the little guy.

“Master Kaveh as my dad? But mom, I have a dad already,” the boy pouts, rubbing at the pinched cheek. You notice a red mark and two little crescent moons that her nails left on a tender skin. “I love him and don’t need another one.”

“Sweety, you just don’t understand how great it would be to have such a dad! Just trust my word-”

“Ahem, Madame, I kindly ask you to deal with your family affairs once you are out of here. As for the school - I am open for discussion.”

The displeased way she glances at you doesn’t go unnoticed, but you do not show it anyhow, calmly staring back at her, while your hand reaches up to your chest. As if finally remembering her initial reason for coming here with her son, the woman sighs and puts a palm on the boy’s shoulder.

“Of course, miss- I’m sorry I forgot your name…” And her eyes flit to the name tag again.

Momentarily the woman squints from the light reflecting on the metal, and when she blinks the bright spots away, there is a beautiful golden ring on your hand. The hand that is holding the flipped tiny plate with just two words engraved in it.

"Kaveh's wife"

With widened eyes she stares back at your sweetly polite smile. Not saying a word as if letting the notion sink in, you walk to the wall. Grabbing the backs of two chairs you drag them to your table so they could sit, and take your rightful place in front of them.

“If you are here for something aside from or instead of signing your son up for classes, I believe my name should be irrelevant to you. My status though,” you knock a nail twice on the badge, “must. So… what are you here for, Madame?”

The boy climbs onto his chair right away, while his mother tarries a little, still shocked by the revealed fact and your suddenly changed demeanor. She needs a couple more seconds to compose herself, but eventually she too sits down.

Despite what happened earlier, your conversation proves to be fruitful and fifteen minutes later you are showing around the school, sharing some additional information and answering every single of the kid’s questions.

When in the last room you find your husband, closing Mehrak and looking ready to leave, the boy lets out a gasp. The sound attracts the man’s attention, and he turns to the three of you with a soft smile.

“Oh, hello there, little guy!” The blond waves at him, breaking the blissful stupor of a child that immediately turns red and hides behind his mother. Surprised, Kaveh looks at you for explanation but, instead, takes notice of your name’s replacement. Oh wow, this again. What was the last time you did that? Two weeks ago?

“Ah, Master Kaveh!” The woman charmingly smiles, batting her lashes at him, which would’ve made you cringe had it never happened before. “You see, my son-”

“Pardon me, Madame, give me a moment,” the male softly interrupts her and reaches for a similar metal plate on his chest with his own name to flip it. It’s almost comical how sour the temptress’s face got in a second.

And there is what for. Now two words are proudly matching yours, engraved in an equally beautiful cursive to remind the world who the two of you become once stripped of your names.

Just his ”Y/n’s husband” to your “Kaveh’s wife”.

And like that one more kid takes part in your lovely school and one suitor less is after one of its founders.

Tighnari

With each passing day of your team’s research in the desert you found it harder and harder to control yourself. Some days you were even on the verge of clawing and biting, tail and ears twitching in annoyance and pupils turning into wild slits, making your hybrid nature more obvious.

Was it because of the research? No, it couldn’t be farther - your colleagues have been making so much progress, heeding your advice and following your lead. Was it the location perhaps? A little, but you learnt how to deal with heat and dryness. Was the process taking too much time? On the contrary, you are on your way home already, having finished the job 4 days earlier than you estimated in the beginning.

Then what on earth could possibly trigger you like this?

Well…

“Hey, forest foxy, want me to catch the Consecrated Flying Serpent for you?”

Ah yes, him.

Never again will you trust the higher ups at the Akademiya to sponsor your team with the bodyguards. Out of every possible candidate, your Herbad-titled colleague concluded that hiring five descendants of Valuka Shuna would be a marvelous idea.

“They are the desert kind - they’ll be good guides.” “Look how much stronger they are, they’ll definitely protect all of you.” “They are of the same kind as you, Y/n. Don’t you think it’ll be easier for you, as the leader, to have someone akin with you?”

No, it absolutely would not!

Desert fennec hybrids are different from the forest ones - and it’s not even the case of your green and their sandy brown fur or their more brutal physique against your more delicate one. It’s their character and world perception. You’ll never call them barbarians, but they really developed more of the animal nature than your kind did.

And from day one it was a pain in the butt.

One of your five new bodyguards was clearly the leader - he was bigger and broodier, with more scars littering his body, and his whole stance was screaming of a higher position. When you were introduced for the first time, something lit up in his grayish eyes, which were looking you over appreciatively. You ignored that, more focused on the discussion of the upcoming expedition and making sure the five were aware of what was required of them.

Luckily they were, and, admittedly, they did fulfill their task meticulously, proving to be great help. If only one of them wasn’t so diligent.

You lost count of how many times the leader tried to get into your personal space and you had to move away. Of the numerous invitations to hunt together. Of the endless displays of his strength and abilities. Of the many conversations you didn’t even try to eavesdrop on (they talked pretty loudly) around the topic of when will your shell be cracked and you’d accept the male’s courting attempts.

The answer was obvious, but he just never got it. Even when you called him for a serious conversation on the turning-into-an-issue matter.

“With all respect I must ask you to stop with whatever you’ve been doing to woo me. I have a husband.”

You still remember how he blinked at you dumbly, clear lack of understanding written on the sun-kissed face.

“...and?”

“The heck do you mean ‘and’?”

“Well, you don’t have a mate?”

It was your turn to stare at him speechless, ear twitching and tail curling closer to your legs. It was getting worse than just ridiculous.

“If we are speaking in such terms, then my husband is my mate. So, please-”

You nearly gasped when the male immediately leant closely, violating your personal space and practically stuffing his nose against your neck. Shocked by such lack of shame, you lost the ability to talk or move for a moment, gaping at him sniffing around and humming upon the discovery.

“You don’t wear anyone’s smell on you.”

You were not proud of yourself at that moment, but you absolutely lost it. Sharpened claws dug into his chest and with an angry snarl you pushed him back.

“Get away from me!”

You must’ve been a sight - canines bared and fingers twitching, ready to attack; fur standing on both your ears and tail, signaling your distress and eyes slitted in pure rage while directed at the man in front of you. The worst part? The idiot seemed to like it even more.

“What me and my partner do must be of no concern to you. I told you ‘no’ and I mean it.”

But bold of you was to assume he’d stop. Oh no, it’s gotten worse. Now he was actively calling you a ‘forest foxy’, absolutely abandoning your name and even trying to scent you. It was suffocating - the desert aridity was lighter in comparison to the male hybrid’s pheromones.

Never in all your academic practice have you wanted to return home so badly.

Fortunately, your colleagues quickly caught on to what was going on and always helped you to escape the unwanted interactions. Plus they were equally as mad as you were, because his individual scent irritated their human noses - and that was the main reason why you and Tighnari, both spending a lot of time around other people, did not practice it. Partly, you are sure, this whole situation was the reason for your earlier return - and you were grateful for their understanding.

However, your stubborn suitor did not dream of giving up. Killed desert animals were still offered to you, stories of his legendary battles with monsters were told for the hundredth time (even though no one was interested in listening at that point) and attempts to lure you with the musky smell once again made. Archons, and the green-furred fennec girls from your teens used to dream of that.

Maybe Lesser Lord Kusanali would be merciful and you’ll meet your husband somewhere on your way?

“Herbad Y/n!”

…wow, that was quick. Not Tighnari, but incredibly welcome too.

“Collei!” For the first time in days there is a reason for your soft smile. Which the young girl mirrors, waving at you from not so far away. You notice a couple more of the Forest Rangers at her side, and that sight alone makes you finally exhale in relief. You are so close to being home.

“Master is here too! Want me to get him?”

Oh, Dendro Archon, thank you.

“I’d really appreciate it, dear!” With a quick nod the green-haired apprentice disappears in the bushes, and you turn back to the scholars of your group. It’s time to abuse your power a little. “We are almost at the Devadaha Pool. Since all of you live in Sumeru City I hope you’ll excuse me for staying behind. As for you five,” your gaze moves to the bodyguards and it’s so hard not to rejoice - soon they’ll be just a memory, “I ask you to accompany the rest of my team to the Akademiya. Then you can consider your job done and be free. Keep the payment for the last three days that didn’t happen - think of it as a bonus for a good job.”

All but one eagerly nod and bid you farewell with wishes of getting home safely. And frankly speaking? You couldn’t care less for that one when you spot familiar and oh so dear big pointy ears with an intricate golden earring adorning one of them.

“Tighnari!” You didn’t want to sound so desperate, you really didn’t. But when those forest-like lovely eyes look in your direction, it becomes clear to you - the yearning has gotten unbearable.

“Y/n…” His smile is dazzling and the way his body immediately pushes to walk to you almost makes the memories of the last weeks’ events go away.

The key word - almost.

Someone grabs your elbow when you want to meet him halfway. Oh right, you already forgot about him.

“Let me go, you, imbecile!” And again you have to snarl and be rude, ripping your arm out of the strong hold and quickly darting into your husband’s embrace. The natural smell of the leaves, the flowers, the sweet and bitter concoctions he makes in his home laboratory, comfort you and your whole body goes nearly limp in his hold. It’s been weeks and you are tired of fighting with the brick wall - this time you want your lover to handle it for you.

“Y/n, my lotus, are you alright?” Gentle fingers comb through your hair and scratch at the base of your ears - a whole ass adult, that you are, wants to tear up. But you can only shake your head a no. “Has this man been bothering you?” This time it’s a yes. “I got you, dear.”

“So,” the browny green eyes sharpen upon staring at the cause of your current state, when it starts speaking, “you are that ‘husband’ the foxy has been talking about? I thought you’d be stronger. Or at least taller. Now I see that I was right and you really can’t be her mate.”

“Oh but I am. Not that we have to prove anything to a stranger. Y/n,” he carefully pries your face from his shoulder, caressing your cheek with a beanie pad, “let’s go home. You must be so-so tired.”

“I am, ‘nari. I am exhaus-”

“There’s no smell of you on her and vice versa,” the desert descendent of the Valuka Shuna seems to not be planning to stop. “Her neck is not marked. You let her wander by herself for weeks? And you keep calling her by the name. Her name should've stopped mattering once she became your mate!”

The hand around your waist tenses and you can feel the claws threatening to tear through the gloves he always wears. You don’t need to look at the face of your lover to know how pissed he is. And if Tighnari decides to attack him and tear his tongue out? You will not stop him.

“I am going to say it once and only once. She is not just a mate, she is my wife, by the Sumeru law and by the blessing of the Dendro Archon. And this fact must matter to you more than the case of her name. So fuck off and leave my wife alone. And if you don’t get it in a civil way - this woman is taken. And this territory is mine.”

With that, the Forest Watcher effortlessly lifts you in his arms and, holding you as if a precious bride, turns around to leave. You haven’t looked back once.

“You can’t imagine how much I missed being called your wife,” you quietly confess, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Especially after he didn’t listen when I said that I am.”

Tighnari hums sympathetically, leaning close to rub his nose against yours.

“Will it be okay then if today I address you as my wife only? When we join the other rangers, I mean.”

”...if you think I will be embarrassed - make it a whole week.”

With a soft chuckle your husband plants a kiss on your lips, sealing the deal and promising you tranquil days at last.

“As you wish, wife.”

Zhongli

"...and so Rex Lapis takes the form of a dragon, a majestic creature he was born as - the one of whom the fair maiden would never be scared of. Lady Guizhong's robes flutter in the tender wind traveling among the mountain peaks and caressing the earthly scales of the God's enormous body. His eyes, shiny as gold, gaze at her with an unfamiliar softness as she holds a gentle flower - a delicate gift from her lover, the one that proves that under all that armor is a stone heart capable of love. Heart that is beating for her."

To loud applause the Iron Tongue Tian bows his head, drawing the legend of the gods in love to its end. You cannot bring yourself to clap even politely, both hands on your lap, hidden under the table, twitching when a man beside you lets his gloved palms meet each other a couple of times.

It’s the second time you had to sit and endure the baloney from the very beginning to the very end, not to count all those times you overheard it in passing. From the moment you settled in the Liyue Harbor together with your husband, to live the rest of your incredibly long lives together among the humans, you've been painfully aware of their interpretation of Rex Lapis and his relationship with other immortal beings. Before that you rarely accompanied him during the walks, busy with helping Yakshas and other adepti protect the said humans to grant them a peaceful life - as immortal guardians grew fewer, every single one counted.

Never have you ever imagined that knowing so little of the citizens’ folklore would backfire so hard. It seems that people got somewhat bored listening to the stories of Liyue and Rex Lapis, no matter how many interpretations existed. Literature became more diverse in genres and romantic novels were on top of the list, so street narrators started losing their audience little by little. Before it could grow into something more drastic the new side of history was presented to the public - stories about love among immortals appeared and its freshness and uniqueness caught people’s attention immediately.

In their searches for new material, speakers dug through hundreds of volumes. The main interest was the Lord of Geo, of course. If you have a story of a presumably stone-hearted creature ever having fallen in love with someone - that’s pure gold! But who could you present as a love interest of the Archon? It must be someone very close to him and, obviously, no one is more well-known for that than the deceased Archon of Dust.

You sigh, reaching for your cup and declining Madam Ping’s offer to pour you some more tea - for an unclear reason the fellow adeptus joined you two tonight. You have thousands of years of life behind your existence, a soul hardened by constant battles, and mannerism as polished as a jade statue, yet for a moment you feel concerned that the woman would notice a pang of hurt in the smallest of your features.

Zhongli definitely noticed the first time. It was meant to be a date night - simple, but sweet, with the evening lights, delightful aroma of the finest tea and the tales pouring from skilled tongues reflecting the atmosphere of what your nation really is. However, the luck of the land of trades wasn’t on your side, as someone requested the “Guili legend” as they called it. At first you were confused. Then in disbelief, almost turning to look at your mate, with whom you were bonded long before he became allies with the ash-haired woman. In the end you felt something you thought was beyond you - bitterness.

When you left the restaurant, slowly walking back to your house, Zhongli’s fingers gently touched your elbow, asking for your attention.

“Does it bother you that much, my love?”

Bother you? Well… It does feel insulting when someone speaks of your husband having been in love with someone else, but mortals can’t possibly know the truth for many reasons.

“I can’t say it doesn’t,” you admitted calmly, stopping and turning fully to him. He did the same, gazing at you with a hint of worry in those golden eyes you loved so much. The ones, you knew, always looked only at you. “But it can’t be helped, right? There was a reason and mutual agreement why you, as Rex Lapis, made our union unknown to your people, and now, since you are “dead”? There is no one to tell our story. Don’t worry though,” you put a hand on top of his and smiled, when his other one was laid on top of yours in a gesture of comfort. “I can deal with it. I know you love going to the storyteller’s performances. I’ll just try to ignore what they say about you and Lady Guizhong.”

Sometimes Zhongli thinks he does not deserve you. Ever so patient and understanding, you always had your husband's best interest at heart. Marriage, however, in its basis is a form of a contract, and a good contract is all about both sides being equal in everything. And if you must know one thing about Rex Lapis - he never makes bad contracts.

When the audience calms down, the man decides to make his presence and intentions clear by raising a hand. From the corner of his eye he notices you slightly turning your head to glance at him, and he catches a glimpse of puzzlement in your gaze. He can't help but think how adorable you are, even if you deny it again and again, claiming that nothing can be adorable about a several millennia-old warrior. Maybe not, but his wife definitely is, and he thinks with a primordial pride igniting in his chest, that mating with you was the best decision his past self had ever made.

Reaching under the table he rests his free hand on top of yours, gently squeezing it in reassurance, offering you the warmth of himself, seeping through his glove. Just as your shoulders relax to his delight, the raised hand adorned with rings is finally noticed.

"Ah, Mr Zhongli! Such an honor to see a regular, especially someone as wise as yourself!" Iron Tongue Tian beams with a wide smile, closing his fan and focusing his full attention on the history connoisseur. "I doubt you have questions, given your vast knowledge, and I can't wait to hear what else you can add to this already heart-felt story."

You force your lips not to twitch, hiding behind the tea cup again. Suddenly it tastes bitter. But another squeeze your husband gives your hand doesn't let you dwell on it too much.

"You are correct, I do have some knowledge to offer. However, it might disappoint you, as it will completely destroy the story of the Geo Archon and the Archon of Dust."

The whispers ran through the crowd like a powerful wave, and you can see confusion written over every single face. But also, there is intrigue.

"I took it upon myself,” Zhongli however continues, “to invite Madame Ping to back up my story, as she was the witness to it," the elder woman - a well-known Adeptus that doesn't hide her existence among mortals - nods with a soft smile.

"I read this in legends a long time ago, but remembered only when the 'Guili legend' became popular. Rex Lapis indeed had a lover, however it was not Lady Guizhong," the gasps are almost deafening. Just as your quickened heartbeat.

And for the next hour the man by your side and the elderly-looking woman that joined you tonight proceed to tell the story of the adeptus, who was the first and only to ever bring the Geo Archon to his knees, to be worshiped like a goddess by his eyes, by his words, by his very heart. Of a warrior, whose fierce eyes and valiant nature made a dragon in Rex Lapis roar in delight. Of the woman, who entranced him with her beauty, caring soul and motherly attention directed to other adepti - Madame Ping adds with a laugh of how the two created a parent-like dynamic even before they became official (at that you find it so hard not to turn bashful).

They tell the legend of the silk flowers - the ones you might see everywhere in the vast lands of Liyue. How the Geo Archon personally asked the Dendro Archon for guidance to cultivate the tenderest of flowers, how he taught his people to make the delicate fabric out of it, but even then it couldn’t compare to the skin of his immortal mate.

They tell stories of how annoyed she was when the god turned into a dragon to fall asleep somewhere in the depths of the earth for years without telling her prior, and how he returned with the purest stones and metals and with his own hands forged the pair of matrimonial rings (yes, the ones wrapped around your fingers to this day).

Madame Ping fondly speaks of all those thousands of years of protection the said adeptus spent to make sure that her godly spouse’s people were safe and maybe just a tiny sliver of pride rushes through your heart at the public acknowledgement.

“But she wished not to be known,” the woman sighs and you know she glances at you reproachfully. Well-deserved, given the circumstances you are in right now. “Thus it’s not much of a surprise people made a mistake like that. Besides, you won’t find much information in written sources about her either way.”

“But she must have a name at least!” Someone from the fairly grown crowd exclaims.

“That she does,” Zhongli nods, lacing his fingers with yours under the table, lips tugging in a calm smile, when you squeeze his hand in return. “Though I am afraid it would be pointless to try and find out now - we wouldn’t want to disturb her mourning the departure of her husband, would we? After all, they must’ve loved each other so much.”

“But how can you be so sure?”

“Because,” golden eyes are on you, catching yours, pulling you in, whispering for your soul and heart to get lost in them, “I can understand how this love was born and got to bloom. My wife showed me that.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #il capitano x reader #capitano x reader #capitano x fem!reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x fem!reader #tighnari x reader #tighnari x fem!reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x fem!reader #il capitano #capitano #kaveh #tighnari #zhongli #genshin impact fluff

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svtcrus · 8 months

Text

unlawful duties || neuvillette x fem!reader

a/n : Im going against myself and ended up writing this big crazy ass smut of neuvillette. I WANT HIM SO BADDDD

disclaimer : dom!neuvillette , extremely sexual descriptions, implications of bondage nd choking , office s3x , slight aftercare

"im sorry but the chief of justice is busy right now madam!"

"really.. monsieur neuvillette? agh are you sure?" the beautiful blonde lady who is well known as the president of the spina di rosula was pestering poor sedene. arguing with the unfortunate melusine whose trying to prevent her from entering. navia completely doubtful at how the chief of justice was busy. when all he does is "stay cooped up in his office, if he's not in his playhouse" she quotes.

and while the madamoiselle is not wrong in some aspects, this very chief was busy with a different case.

"be quiet darling, seems like miss navia is right outside." here you were bent over the desk that is scattered with piles of paperwork, the feeling of a slender gloved hand trailing along your bare back. lips bitten harshly to the point of them bleeding, holding back any noise.

however your efforts are in vain upon the force of another hand gripping onto your neck pulling you up. the feeling of neuvillette's hot breath lingering near your ear, your forced to listen to the inappropriate words of the monsieur himself.

"you wouldn't want her to hear how dirty your moans are now would she?" he licks your neck before his lips find your sweet spot, suckling on your skin making you whimper through red stained lips.

this man who withholds so much power of the nation of justice has you wrapped around his own finger. has you bent over his very desk moaning his name loud beneath him, and it's making him go insane.

he breaks his composure at the very sight of you, feeling his breath hitch as his eyes linger between those crystal eyes and your soft lips.

those same lips which he kisses feverishly as he pounds himself into you, concealing your loud cries which beg him for more.

neuvillette's stamina is unpredictable just as he is mysterious. he could go on for hours of him shoving himself into you sweet cunt that's swallowing him ever so well. your walls which squeeze him so tight as he's pushing you further onto his desk, the court papers now long gone amidst the floor. he simply cannot get enough of you.

the chief's clothes are loosened, his white scarf is now used as restraints for your dainty hands. his own two? they are feeling every crevice of your body up from behind. his hand kneads against the plump of your ass, boldly pushing it to see your wetness engulfing him. your slick intermingling with his as he enters and exits your swollen hole. he could see all his love marks tracing from your neck and along your shoulder line, the sight makes him swell.

neuvillette lets out a breathy hiss as he feels your velvet walls tighten around him once more.

"s-so dirty for me darling. not caring if we..- ahhh, get caught.." low growls are leaving his mouth, the sound of skin touching skin echoing amongst the office. the attempts of being quiet long gone. you're moaning, whining, begging, his honor for more.

"please monsieur..."

"please what my love? I need you to use your words sweetheart." two of his long fingers are shoved in between the plump of your lips, you can taste yourself. all while he pounds one more time with his obscene force, before halting. awaiting for you to beg for his cock for his own pleasure.

"harder-mmf! please.. fuck me!" immediately he's back in his feverish rhythm, snapping into you like it's his last time fucking you.

"profanity is forbidden here sweetheart." he manages to say through clenched teeth, both of his hands now gripping onto your hips harshly.

hah, proper etiquette? the fact that you and the chief of justice are performing such debauchery in his place of work? the mannerful thought was long gone in neuvillettes head the moment you had pushed his buttons. now he's enjoying every second of ramming into you in his open office, where someone could very much catch you two committing an unlawful act at any time.

neuvillettes's ego rises at the sight of your naked back is covered in his slick, his godly handsome face is blushed from his efforts. long silver locks disheveled, his bangs damp from sweat. your cunt is dripping cum onto his hardwood floors, oh how will he explain such a mess to sedene?

"ah.. is sex also forbid-" you gasp at the sudden action of him pushing one leg up onto his table, solely so he can push even more deeper into you.

he's hitting all the right spots inside, nudging against the part you need him most and it's driving you crazy. his length proves it all, and god is he so big. you can feel him pulse within you as you both find release. your lover grunts while his wet fingers begin to fondle your clit. motioning them in the way he knows to make you quiver. all while he's leaning down to kiss you, as his seed makes you feel so full.

you could feel the bruises beginning to form on your lower back, his length now long gone. your legs still shaking upon orgasm.

"I hate you..." you manage to say between heavy breaths, your hands are finally freed from his scarf.

your nakedness is replaced with warmth, his coat being draped over you as situate yourself. your lover is already back in his dress pants, and a buttoned up shirt. you glare at him once reality has struck your head. yet he only smiles at you as he begins to clean you up from his mess.

"are you pressing charges on me now after you begged for my cock so well?" neuvillette whispers, those purple orbs are looking down at you. displaying how much lust he still has in him.

blushing at his sudden remark, he lets out a low chuckle.

"you love me sweetheart, lying is a crime you know?"

@svtcrus || 08.16.2023

#cowon.writings #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette smut #genehin impact neuvillette #genshin impact neuvillette x reader #genshin imagines

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fangirl-dot-com · 29 days

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Epilogue - Sign of the Times

Just stop your crying it’s the sign of the times… Welcome to the final show, I hope you’re wearing your best clothes…

Here it was. The last lap of the 2025 season. Sweat pooled on your forehead as you kept pushing the car to its max. A car similar was right on your tail, and you wanted to keep him that way. You could see the finish line start to get closer. With an inhale and an exhale, you crossed the line with such speed.

“FOR THE SECOND TIME IN HISTORY, THE POINTS WERE EQUALLED BEFORE THE FINAL RACE. IN THE BEGINNING OF THIS RACE, WE THOUGHT THE CHAMPIONSHIP WAS GOING DUTCH ONCE AGAIN, BUT NOT IF Y/N L/N HAS ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT. SHE HAS FOUGHT BRILLIANTLY THIS SEASON AND CAN ONLY BE REWARDED WITH ONE THING! Y/N L/N IS CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!”

You can’t bribe the door on your way to the sky… You look pretty good down here, you ain’t really good…

Your eyes flitted around your helmet as you finished your burnouts. Your heart was racing so quickly. Tears were pooling in your eyes. Was this it? Was what they were saying true? You wouldn’t believe it until you got out of the car. The “1” on the board in Parc Ferme seemed to stare at you as you climbed out. You looked at your team, who were all screaming and shaking the barrier.

Like normal, you stood up on the car and raised a hand. Only this time, your pointer finger was out, as if you had counted to one and suddenly stopped. You stepped off the car and kneeled down next to a tyre. Your helmet rested for a moment against the cooling rubber. A hand lightly tugged you up and wrapped you in their arms.

Oh yeah.

You had beaten Max in the last two laps of the race, claiming the P1 spot at the end. The Dutchman was shaking you around, celebrating. But, he had lost.

“KID, KID, YOU DID IT! I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!”

Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him. They quickly turned into half crescents as you smiled at him, starting to jump up and down with him. You never left his arms.

“I’M A WORLD CHAMPION. OH MY GOSH. OH MY GOSH!”

Max let you go as you turned around to jump to the team. You jumped so far in that you took the barrier down with you. Sobs left your lips as everyone wanted to get their hands on their new champion. Hugs, helmet kissed, and pats were tenfold.

Later that evening, your flag was draped around your shoulders as you held your head high for your national anthem. You could remember how you were on this step just one year ago, third place in the championship. However, this year, you stood on that top step as Champion of the World.

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing for the first time ever, Y/n L/n is Champion of the World!

liked by verstappen33, arthur_leclerc, lewishamilton, and 6,294,018 others

y/n.nation OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH 😱

y/n&co LETS GO LETS GO THAT'S MY DRIVER

box_box_express YOUNGEST AND FIRST FEMALE TO WIN THE WDC

y/n.89 I still think I'm dreaming

landonorris in that case bug, I'll GLADLY take the trophy

y/n.89 NO YOU WILL NOT BACK OFF 🤺

lestappenlove I NEVER THOUGHT I'D SEE THIS DAY

If we never learn, we’ve been here before… Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? The bullets…

“CHARLIE!”

The Monegasque barely had any time to react as your body soon collided with his. He felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him for the second time that night. Your hands were on his shoulders, shaking him widely. It wasn’t long before Max joined you around Charles as well. Max had brought him into a bone crushing hug, while you waited to the side with Arthur, whose tears hadn’t stopped since the second to end lap.

The fireworks in the Abu Dhabi night sky were blood red. The crowds around them mimicked their shine and color in devotion for the driver who stood in the middle of the crowd.

When Max broke the hug, Arthur was the one to take his brother back in his arms. You and Max let the two have their moments. Among your jewelry that you were putting back on after the race was a pretty special ring. The Dutchman’s eyes widened as he saw you slip in onto your left hand’s fourth finger. You smiled up at him and winked. A groan left his lips.

“Has Charles been teaching you how to wink? Or is that a Leclerc special that you pick up if you’re marrying one of them.”

A giggle left your lips as Max’s whining, but it wasn’t long until he gave you a hug. His head rested on top of yours as you just stood there.

For the 2026 season, Lewis and Charles had built a literal fighter jet. There was no way that yours and Max’s cars could ever keep up. With the new regulations, Newey just seemed a bit lost. However, he was understanding them little by little and promised a championship contending car for next year.

But, you couldn’t even be sad about losing to Charles. And you had a feeling that Max felt the same way. The Monegasque deserved it, everything, and a little bit more. Lewis, in the bright red, stood next to him. He wore a proud smile for the teammate that he got so close to in the past two years.

You stepped away from Max and made your way to the Briton. The man opened his arm and let you slip right in. A sigh left your lips as you watched Charles jump into the sea of red, thanking the team for finally loving him the right way.

You sniffed, suddenly getting a bit emotional. And you knew why.

You didn’t look up at Lewis as you spoke quietly.

“You’re retiring right? I can feel it Lew, you don’t have to lie.”

Just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times, We gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here

Lewis’s chest rose, his breath slightly hitching, letting you know that you were correct. His grip only got tighter around your shoulders. A quiet “yeah” left his lips. You knew how heartbreaking it must have been to see you win in 2025 and then Charles in 2026, never giving Lewis a chance to get his 8th.

“I’m happy though. It’s been a long time coming. Fernando retired last year and has decided to just not come back, I guess it’s finally my time then.”

Tears started to drip out of your eyes. If anyone saw, they might have guessed that you were crying for joy about your friend’s win. But they didn’t know that you’d be crying for your friend’s loss too.

“Don’t cry sweetie. I’ll be around.”

“I’ll miss you Lew.”

“I know kid. I know. But I’m here if you ever need me.”

Fireworks went off again, igniting the sky and bleeding it red.

y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted

y/n.89 the Leclercs 2027 🖤🤍

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, olliebearman, and 7,295,097 others

y/n.nation WHAT IN TARNATION IS THIS??

rb4ever I THOUGHT I saw a ring on her finger during the post-race interviews!!

maxverstappen1 I will have people know that I was the first to know

charles_leclerc um, excuse me?? Arthur phoned me after 😌

landonorris who do you think took the pictures?? 🤨

olliebearman who do you think he brought to get the ring - I win

formulala_delulu a match made in the stars!!

Just stop your crying it’ll be alright They told me that the end is near, we gotta get away from here Just stop your crying, have the time of your life Breaking through the atmosphere, and things are pretty good from here

The chilled air made goosebumps arise on your arms under your long sleeved dress. You huffed as you stood outside the area, waiting for the signal to start walking. But one person was missing. Your head violently turned left and right, mind getting worried that he was going to miss the cue. When a hand touched your arm, you knee he had finally made it.

“Vito, you were making me sweat, and then you were going to make me cry if you missed this,” you whined out.

The older man rolled his eyes.

“I would never do that to you. And isn’t it bad if you cry on your wedding day?”

A huff left your lips. You wanted to say something snarky, but soft piano music began to fill the area. You knew there was a brilliant white piano being played by a talented world champion right now, urging you to start walking.

Your arm was wrapped around Vito’s bicep as you started walking down the white cloth that had been laid down earlier in the day.

Arthur stood on the opposite end, a nice destination of where you’d end up. Charles smiled softly at the piano as he watched his brother’s exterior start to crumble at the sight of you in your white dress. Quite possibly, tears of his own began to fall on the baby grand.

Christian stood near Arthur and gave the younger man a tissue. Arthur took it with no hesitation. Max stood a next to a little space where Charles would come back to stand once he was done playing.

The Dutchman had been surprised when Arthur had asked him to be a groomsman. The two laughed when Arthur mentioned that if Max didn’t take his offer, you’d make him a bridesmaid and make him wear a dress. Max had never accepted something so quickly. Ollie stood next to Max, also crying at the sight of you. These were his best friends getting married, how was he supposed to stay calm.

After what felt like an eternity to you and Arthur, the two of you were finally back in each other’s arms.

You whispered a “hi” to him as he took your hands.

Arthur just cried a bit more.

The wedding was beautiful. The colors complimented everything so well in the Italian countryside where you and Arthur held the ceremony. Your estate would host the commencement activities. You had Arthur had talked about permanently moving in so that you two could start your new lives together. But, you’d still keep your Monaco house for visits to Max and the family.

Speaking of, your eyes landed on Kelly in the crowd. You wanted her to be in your wedding so much, but the little baby in her arms made if just fine if she couldn’t stand with you. You remember crying when Max asked you to be the godmother of his son, Adriaan Daan Verstappen. Oh well, you’d get baby snuggles later. Max and Kelly’s wedding was planned for the 2028 summer break, hence why your wedding was in December of 2027.

Max was back to being world champion, which was fine with you. You’d let him break his own record and then destroy it later on.

The rest of the 2024 grid were also there, along with a lot of the past F2 boys that loved Arthur as their own.

The vows were read and the ceremony ended shortly after. As you walked back down the aisle, finally known as Mrs. Y/n Leclerc, your eyes landed on an empty seat. A picture of Lorenzo sat there, reminding everyone about the man who loved you more than life itself.

Last night, you had heard Arthur whispering out the window. Tears had welled when you understood his words.

“I know that you love Y/n so much Enzo. I wish that you could have been here to see tomorrow, she looks so beautiful, even if I haven’t seen the dress. I just wanted to let you know that she’s doing ok. I am here to love her so much. I know I can never replace you, but I hope you can rest easier knowing that she finally has people who also love her so much.”

We can meet again somewhere Somewhere far away from here…

Arthur gave you a kiss on your cheek as he led you back down the aisle.

“Hello wife,” he said, gathering you in his arms after you rounded the corner out of sight.

You pressed a kiss to his lips. “Hello husband.”

During the “after party,” you couldn’t stop giggling as you got ready to throw the bouquet. You knew what was going to happen right after, and you made sure to throw it in the direction of the certain bridesmaid.

Charles had asked for your permission for this weeks and advance and you had happily accepted. You threw the bouquet, praying that it went in the right direction. Once you turned around, a smile grew on your lips as you saw that Alex had caught it. And right behind her was Charles on one knee.

You couldn’t wait to gain a sister.

y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted

arthur_leclerc can't wait to spend forever with you 💍

liked by y/n.89, oscarpiastri, pascale_leclerc, and 7,943,857 others

y/nxarthur wow, I've legit had a front row seat to this entire relationship

maxiel_lover most of the drivers from 2024 where there 🥺

y/n.89 forever is too short

arthur_leclerc I'll love you in every universe and all of eternity

landonorris gag.

charles_leclerc get a fiancé and then we'll listen to you norizz

y/n.89 not on my wedding post please boys

landonorris yes ma'am

y/n.leclerc I will be sobbing forever

We never learn, we been here before Why are we always suck and running from the bullets? The bullets…

You walked into the garage, a smile on your face as you watched Max take pole for the last time in Formula 1. The crew around you cheered once the final times were set. On the wall next to you read the names and years of yours and Max’s championships.

The 2025 was yours, 2026 wasn’t on there, but 2027 to 2030 was all Max. He had finally broken the 7 championship record 2 races ago, winning his beloved 8th World Championship. You would have made him battle it out till the last race, but you couldn’t have done that since the 2028 season. Liam had done a good job in your car, keeping it warm until you could return.

Max stepped into the garage, eyes still full of life at 33 year old. He was practically a baby still if you remember how old Lewis and Fernando were when they retired. His eyes lit up as they landed on you. Before he could say anything, a screech sounded in the garage.

“MAXIE!”

The two-year-old in your arms wiggled until you put her down. Her little legs took her to her favorite godfather, much to Charles’ chagrin of wanting to be the favorite uncle. Except Max didn’t need to know that Ferrari was Lottie’s favorite team. The Leclerc’s love for the Italian Prancing Horse was definitely written in their genetics.

Charlotte Pascale Maxine Leclerc was born almost one year after yours and Arthur’s wedding. The announcement raised some eyebrows and you could see some adults calculating in their heads. But they ignored everything once she was born. Brown hair and bright hazel eyes were surely going to break hearts when she was older. She was a carbon copy of Arthur.

With you getting pregnant, you’d have to miss at least 2 years of Formula 1. You also didn’t want to miss any of her firsts so you announced a semi-permanent retirement for the 2028, 2029, and 2030 seasons. You may have cried when Max said that he was going to retire while you weren’t racing. But, you knew why he was doing it.

Penelope was 11 and Adriaan was 3. Max didn’t want to have to miss any more of their lives that he already had.

The Dutchman bent down to pick the toddler up.

“Hey kid.”

You knew he wasn’t talking to Lottie. You rolled your eyes as you approached him and gave him a hug.

“I’m not a kid anymore Max. I have a kid. So it kind of cancels everything out.”

Max only looked down at you with a smile.

“You’ll always be my kid, no matter what.”

“Sure Maximillian.”

We never learn, we been here before

Max this time did not roll his eyes or comment how that was not his name. He’s played this game before, and he’ll finally let you have it.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay one more season?”

He put a hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll be close by, don’t worry. I told you that I’d be here for all of it. I’m not breaking that promise.”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 Lottie insisted she watch Maxie drive the car with Adriaan 💙

liked by leclercfam, y/nsnumber1, kellypiquet, and 8,230,185 others

leclercfam STOP STOP STOP THEY'RE SO CUTIEEEE

rbxferrari I can't believe Lottie is turning 3 this year???

charles_leclerc still the favorite uncle 😚

maxverstappen1 not if Lottie has anything to say about it

charles_leclerc says the man whose son was in Ferrari merch earlier

y/n.89 max I fear Charles wins this time

charles_leclerc HA

maxverstappen1 you win ONE championship and your ego grows by 10 thousand

y/n4ever dare I say I'll miss them all like this?

Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? The bullets…

“MAX EMILLIAN VERSTAPPEN AND CHARLES MARC HERVE PERCEVAL LECLERC! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU’RE BOTH DEAD!”

Max and Charles looked over at Arthur with pleading eyes.

“Help us.”

Your husband only looked at them with pity.

“Shouldn’t have waited to tell her. Now she knows because of Instagram.”

Both drivers, er well, a team principal and driver winced at the sound of your footsteps getting closer and closer.

Charles immediately grabbed his son from Alex.

“I have a baby Y/n! You can’t do anything.”

Little Jules Herve Anthoine Leclerc looked up at his dad with big and round, green eyes, making cooing noises at everything, blissfully unaware that his aunt was about to try to kill his father.

“But Max doesn’t!”

Just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times We gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here

Max slightly paled as he looked around for a child to grab, but Lottie was already in Arthur’s lap by the time you got down the stairs. He winced when you landed on the ground floor. You, Arthur, and Lottie had come to visit after Charles called that Alex had gone into labor. Your family of three hadn’t planned to stay this long, since it had been three weeks, but Lottie had insisted that she wanted to see Maxie, Pen, Adri, and Aunt Kelly.

Your phone showed an Instagram post from Red Bull Racing.

“Should I read this Max or do you just want to tell me?” you raised an eyebrow as you asked. Max winced again. This was the ultimate betrayal.

Arthur, looking at Max with glee, asked you to read it. The Monegasque didn’t react when he felt the Dutchman’s glare on him. You only hummed as you began to read.

“Max Verstappen will officially return to the F1 paddock, not as a driver, but as the Team Principal of Oracle Red Bull Racing.

“We are also delighted to announced that Charles Leclerc will be racing alongside Y/n L/n, as she returns from her retirement in the 2031 season.”

Max tried to give you a smile.

“Surprise?”

You turned to Charles, who tried not to jump due to Jules falling asleep in his arms. Your eyes narrowed.

“I’m going to be champion again this year. You can eat my dust for this.”

Laughter erupted from the small group. Lottie had no clue what was going on, but she crawled off of Arthur lap and demanded that she be held in your arms. Her head rested on your chest as you rocked lightly back and forth. You hadn’t planned to have her so early at 25, but the little girl in your arms was your pride and joy.

She tried to give her best stink eye to her uncle and godfather. She pointed her little finger at them.

“Maman is going to be champion!” her little voice squeaked out.

And Lottie was right.

Maman was going to be champion from 2031 to 2034, adding another four to her one.

Only four more to go.

Stop your crying, baby, it’ll be alright They told me that the end is near, we gotta get away from here

You looked up at Arthur with a smile. The now 36-year-old stood shirtless, with a small baby on his chest. The TV in the hospital room was playing the 2035 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. Like they had back in 2026, the red fireworks lit up the night.

You knew what was coming after Charles won this year. The promises of retirement hung over his head as you watched another one of your friends leave the sport.

The only ones that remained from your fateful 2024 season were Lando and Oscar (still with McLaren), Logan and Lance (racing together for Aston Martin), George (who raced with Kimi for Mercedes), and then Yuki and Pierre (who found each other again in now back to Torro Rosso).

Daniel retired the year before Max along with Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico.

You looked up at your husband.

“Are you ok if it’s just him and Lottie? I’d like to continue racing until I retire and I don’t think any more kids might be possible after?”

Arthur looked at you with a smile.

“That is more than ok chéri. I think Lottie will just enjoy little Lorenzo Oliver Alessandro Leclerc’s company.”

You peered up at him.

“You do not have to keep saying his full name, you know that right.”

Arthur stepped over to the bed right as Charles was getting out of his car, finally a second time world champion. He gently put Enzo into your arms and gently rubbed over his head that was covered with blond hair. The same shade of eyes looked up into yours as your son took in the sight of you. If Lottie could be Arthur’s copy, Enzo was yours.

Arthur sighed.

“I can call him whatever I want. It’s not fair that he was named after Ollie and not his own father.”

“Bebe, you said you were fine with it.”

He knew you were teasing.

“It is all jokes ma chéri.”

Charles voice sounded in the room through the TV speaker. Arthur turned up the volume to hear his brother.

“I am so thankful for this opportunity for one more championship. I have loved driving for Red Bull and previously for Ferrari. But, uh, I feel as though this is my closing chapter.”

Mark Webber was the one to be interviewing Charles.

The Australian asked, “So is this a retirement announcement?”

The Monegasque gave a small smile. “It would seem so. I’ve given all that I can to the sport. It is time for me to continue my life with my family.”

Mark clapped him on the shoulder.

“I know I can speak for the entire Formula 1 world when I say that you will be missed.”

y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted

y/n.89 little Lorenzo Oliver Alessandro Leclerc, you're more cherished than you will ever know

liked by oliverbearman, logansargeant, y/n&fam, and 9,205,834 others

leclerc_family not all of their kids having multiple middle names💀

y/n.nation them naming little Enzo after Lorenzo - don't bother the tears 😭

landonorris so...when am I getting a kid named after me?

oscarpiastri and me?

logansargeant and me?????

olliebearman hoes mad - you're just not superior 😝

y/n.89 sorry boys, no more kids, I'll name the dog after you

iamred_iamyellow I just know that little Enzo and little Jules are going to be best of friends

We never learn, we been here before Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? The bullets We never learn we been here before Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? The bullets…

You sat back on a tyre of your car, looking out at the crowds. You could finally breathe easily for maybe the first time of the 2040 season. The battle was tough. All the rookies this year gave you a run for your money.

But you had done it. Finally.

Nine championships to your name. One of a kind feat. Probably never to be repeated until the end of time.

You calmly walked over to the barrier. Arthur stood with your 13 year old daughter and 4 year old son. When had they gotten so much bigger? You were scared after Enzo was born, getting back into racing so quickly, unlike you had done with Lottie. But Arthur was with you every step of the way. So were Charles and Alex, and so were Max and Kelly.

You gathered your family into your arms and let yourself cry. Tears of sadness for the sport you loved with every fiber of your being, and tears of joy of finally accomplishing your one dream. It had taken 17 years for you to finally get what you wanted.

We don’t talk enough We should open up Before it’s all too much

At Milton Keynes, the years 2025, 2031, 2032, 2033, 2034, 2036, 2037, 2039, and then finally 2040 were hung in lights along the walls. You could have been done last year, but Lando had decided that he needed one championship in 2038. You were proud of the Papaya boy. All of his hard work finally paid off. And now he could have all the chances as he finished second this year.

You had one request for this podium. You wanted everyone up there with you. Arthur made sure that everyone from the 2024 grid was there.

(Yes, even Esteban).

The drivers you were close with when you were 20, watched as you were crowned World Champion for the ninth and last time ever. Max had red eyes the entire night. He made sure to splash you extra with the champagne. Your kids ran around squealing as their uncle Charles shot bits of bubbly at them.

It felt like a dream, to be up there with all of your found family. After the first few times, you thought that celebrating a championship would get boring. But, you were wrong. Each time was even more special than the first.

On the way back to the hotel, you looked to the back seat at your two kids. Both had fallen asleep the moment the car started moving. You blamed yourself and Arthur for driving them around as babies, and now car noise was the best way to put them to sleep.

Arthur looked over at you, smiling softly as he watched you look at your children with such love.

You whispered, breaking the silence, “I have more than I could have ever dreamed. And it makes me think that this is a dream, that I’m going to wake back up in 2023 in my drivers room and not be able to do anything.”

A quick pinch was given to your leg.

“Ouch Thur!” you whined as you rubbed the sore part.

Arthur had that teasing glint in his eyes that you missed so dearly.

“I don’t think it’s a dream chéri. You’re more awake than ever.”

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing our golden girl in her golden year, for the ninth and last time, Y/n L/n is Champion of the World ⭐️

liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant, y/n.nation, and 10,583,850 others

y/n.nation thank you Y/n for all that you have done! it's time for you to finally relax with your family!

formula1fan at first I was annoyed with the domination, but Y/n deserves it more than anyone - you will be missed champ

y/n.89 my team, I am so proud to have been your girl - let it be known I am the golden child of Red Bull

maxverstappen1 um, no, you're not the original

charles_leclerc I was the golden boy at Ferrari AND Red Bull

sebastianvettel sit down, the original golden child is here

redbullracing we love you all equally

y/n.89 ... I'm still the favorite tho

author it's the end of an era, thanks kid for everything - stay golden

Will we ever learn? We’ve been here before It’s just what we know

At 42-years-old, you sat in a chair, looking over the estate watching Lottie and Enzo all play with Max’s family and Charles’s family. A drink was in your hand as you used the condensation to cool down from the hot Italian sun.

Retirement from all motorsports had been your decision alone.

Ollie and Dorian Pin had the two coveted Red Bull seats, however, Lando and Oscar were really duking it out for a world championship. You knew that the two would be fine.

After Formula 1, you did two years of endurance racing, winning Le Mans twice and the Endurance championship once in the years of 2041 and 2042.

In 2043, you tried out IndyCar, only wanting to win one race: The Indy500. Thankfully, you’d been able to do so in the only year you wanted to.

Thus, becoming the second person in history to win the Triple Crown of Motorsports, and the only female. It felt nice, breaking yet another record, even if someone had done it before you. But, it didn’t feel as nice as it did right now.

Arthur came out of the house behind you and sat on his chair that was built for him. When you had come back home, you wanted two seats in the backyard to be able to watch your children play for hours.

Lorenzo had told you a story of your parents on year. It was about the time when they truly loved each other. They too had matching chairs outlooking their own backyard. You wished you could have such memories of you parents. But now, you rarely thought of them.

Because in the end, you didn’t need them.

A tear ran down your face as you continued to watch Penelope, Adriaan, Lottie, Jules, and Enzo play under the Italian sunset.

“Why are you crying chéri?”

Arthur’s hand had come to your face to wipe the single tear away.

You didn’t look at him and kept watching the family that you built out of love and dreams.

“I’m happy, so happy.”

Stop your crying, baby it’s a sign of the times…

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starrynights-sunnyskies · 16 days

Text

mine to protect ⋆*·ﾟmisa rodriguez x reader

the night you thought would be a lighthearted, fun time with some of misa's friends, ends with a different kind of bang you had originally anticipated. but when things go awry, you can always expect your girlfriend to be there.

(or; the mentioned club incident from mine to save)

tw: intimidation and harassment by a drunken fool. dw, sweet ending.

It was meant to be nothing more than a fun night out with friends now that most of them were in the area. It had been a spontaneous text by Jenni that had spurred the entire thing. The group had never been that good at planning things far in advance, with schedules changing and always full, but it seemed that most girls had at least a few hours to spare this Saturday night. And, well, while Misa’d had the day off entirely, she’d also mentally written your name in all caps in her agenda for this weekend as soon as she heard you’d be coming to see her. She hadn’t even realised the group chat had exploded until grabbing her phone to snap a picture of the two of you all cuddled up, something to add to her folder with pictures to cheer her up whenever you two were apart. It took her quite some scrolling to catch up, and when she saw the text that had initiated it all, she caught herself feeling a little indifferent. On one hand, she would love nothing more than to spend some time with her friends. On the other, she’d see most of them again soon during national camp. Plus, there was never enough time to spend with you. Sure, there were quick days in between matches you’d play near the other, but entire days spent together without worrying about the time were scarce. It was exactly why she’d been able to lose track of time for as long as she had, having you wrapped against her in her arms was far too valuable to her. You squirmed against her front, having lost your comfortable position as soon as Misa had shifted to reach for her phone.

With the curtains closed and the lights dimmed, Misa had turned her apartment into a cozy little bubble after the dinner you had made together. It was as if you were the only two people on earth. But that wasn’t a foreign feeling whenever Misa was around. Quite the contrary— you often suffered from severe tunnel vision whenever she was near. Even when she wasn’t in your direct line of sight, your heart would still quicken and there’d be an extra pep in your step and a shine to your eyes. Like a fool in love, you would perk up whenever she walked in, sought your eyes and sent you the most heartwarming grin. That grin of hers, whether the cheeky one or the adorable kind, had been one of the things that had instantly given her some of your heart. The two of you hadn’t even been properly introduced yet, she’d only acknowledged your presence for the time being with that damned grin, and you had felt your pulse quicken and your cheeks flush nonetheless. And then the nerves! She’d made you feel so nervous and giddy like some silly school girl whose crush finally decided to look her way. You’d felt pathetic when thinking about the encounter for the longest time until Misa had admitted to you that she’d put off introducing herself to you that day for so long, simply because she had been too nervous herself. It left you feeling a little alienated, knowing that you had been the one to leave your usual self-assured girlfriend feeling so insecure. Then you felt a little smug because of the exact same reason. Only you could make Misa feel that way, and that knowledge left you feeling euphoric.

A whine escaped your mouth as your back softly slid from Misa’s front to the back of the couch, watching as your girlfriend leaned sideways to type away on her phone that was still plugged in to charge.

Misa side-eyed you, and although she tried to hide it, you saw the tiny smirk wanting to pull at the corners of her lips. She quickly bit her lip before she could be caught red-handed, planted a kiss on your temple and pulled you against her again. Her fingers absentmindedly snaked underneath the sweatshirt you were wearing, one of hers, and softly brushed the skin of your waist. She typed away again.

“I think I like you better with both your hands on my waist.” You mumbled against her neck, feeling her muscles there tighten, signalling she was probably smirking again. Or still.

“Hm?” Misa quickly locked her phone, “Like so?” She turned to you, the arm around you pulling you back onto her lap, the hand on your waist snaking up your back and her free hand squeezing your thigh.

“Or more like this?” She looked up at you, eyes full with a type of fire that could only stem from pure love and adoration. Her nose nuzzled against your cheek before she planted some light kisses along your jaw. Your arms went to their designated spot around her neck as she continued to leave feather-like kisses along your skin. You let out a small sigh, bliss and a sense of belonging coursing through you. She softly pulled your face to hers by your chin and pushed you flushed against her before her lips found yours. Slow pecks and open mouthed kisses quickly deepened as your lips pressed against one another’s furiously and full of passion. But as you felt Misa start to play with the hairs in your neck, she also slowly untangled herself from your grip. Frowning, you quickly reared back.

“This is probably the worst time to tell you that the others are on their way here?” A child-like kind of guilt flashed across her face, and for a second, she couldn’t even look you in the eye. She knew how sacred the time you had together was, how scarce it was, too. Not to mention how much you had looked forward to spend each and every minute together, and make use of it as well.

“What? What do you mean? Who?!”

“Well, Jenni, Patri… Leila. Ale and Olga will be there, too, and all the others… if they have time.”

You rose an eyebrow, studied her face, “…there? Where?!”

Misa sighed and rubbed her brows, “They want to go out to some club since most of us are in town, but I had my phone off the entire day and only now read that they’re going to pick me up…but-”

“-they don’t know I’m with you?”

She nodded sheepishly, “I just texted them that, but Jenni said that’s even better… that it will be more fun with you around, anyway.”

You whined again and threw your head against her shoulder. She patted your back, “I know. Feeling the same.”

“Text them again. Say we’re out.”

“I could… if I hadn’t just told them I was not planning on leaving the apartment with you.”

“What’d they say?”

She sent a toothy grin your way, “Apart from hollers and dirty comments?”

“Oh God, I don’t want to know.”

You felt Misa’s hand start to roam beneath your shirt again. Her voice turned to a whisper, “Anyway, we don’t have to open when they knock.” You sidled up to her again, liking how your knees were on either side of her legs, giving you the control to keep her in place. “We’ll just pretend they’re not there so they’ll go, vale?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

“I like that idea,” You whispered back.

“Yeah? Think you can do that?” Misa cupped your cheek and tilted her head in challenge. You hummed noncommittally, having only eyes for her and the way she was looking at you, how she softly scratched your back with her cold fingertips and how it sent shivers down your spine already. You were going back in for the kiss when rapid knocking sounded from the hall. The two of you shared a look, before Misa whispered against your lips, “Ready to put your money where your mouth is?”

She kissed you, hard, stopping you from answering her as her hands raked across your body to all the places she knew would work you up.

The knocking commenced, but this time, it was a little harder to ignore,

“Police! Open up!” Jenni’s voice boomed from the other side of the door. You felt Misa pause, but she quickly continued and pulled you closer when Jenni’s muffled voice sounded again, “We received a phone call about a possible house fire. Neighbours said it was getting too hot, so we came by to check.”

You knew that all of Misa’s neighbours on this floor were probably hearing this as well, but when your head slowly turned to face the noise, Misa softly pulled it back to her.

Now you heard another voice, more banging on the door and some laughter, too, “We’re looking for two fugitives who could be inside. Both attached to the hip, can’t keep their hands off one another and are probably the reason behind the fire.”

"Yeah, we really need to get in to blow it out!"

Misa loudly cursed and dropped her hands, squeezing your waist before sliding you onto the couch with the utmost care before standing up.

“I won’t be long.” She spoke gently, in contrast to the way she grumpily walked to the hallway. “Going to fucking kill them-” She muttered under her breath.

You heard the voices less muffled now. Jenni, Leila and Patri, indeed. But their voices grew louder and you heard the front door close.

“Some fugitive you are, opening the door to the police.”

“I’d rather have that than have my building know I’m friends with idiots.”

“They already know, Leila and Patri ding-dong-ditched all the numbers downstairs at the intercom, that’s how we got in.”

You quickly made yourself presentable and perched yourself on the edge of the couch.

“There she is!” The trio stood in the living room, grins and smirks on their faces, with a less-than-amused Misa finally trailing behind them, mouthing an apology to you.

“You’ve found me… the arsonist.” You smiled softly, trying to calm the whiplash you felt from having gone from a heated make out with your girlfriend to this clownish trio standing before you.

Patri looked around, “No flames yet, so looks like we came just in time.”

You saw Misa roll her eyes and mock Patri, who saw you giggle and quickly turned around to face an innocently smiling Misa. Leila walked over and pulled you off the couch, “Go doll up, I'll help you pick something out but we gotta go, we gotta go! No time to waste! You can go and fire up the dance floor later, dale!”

You passed Misa as Leila pushed you down the hall, the defender’s giggles filling the room. They were having way too much fun with this, but you couldn’t help but let out a laugh as well when you saw the big grump your girlfriend had become.

“Don’t kill them,” You mouthed to her before disappearing in the bedroom.

“You too,” Jenni plucked at Misa’s hoodie with disdain, “Come on! You’ve got to show them you’re a power couple.”

“I don’t have to prove anyone anything, let alone that we’re good together.”

Patri rolled her eyes, “Look, we can’t have you slacking in trainers when she’ll be looking like a snack. Or do you want everyone to go up to her, not knowing she’s with you?”

Misa threw her head in her neck and groaned, “First you go and ruin our time and now you’re having me play dress up? Really, woman?”

“You don’t want to spend time with your friends anymore?” Jenni gasped in mock outrage, then laughed, “Come on, you can thank me later when she sees you and can’t keep her eyes off you.”

A huff left Misa’s mouth as she threw herself on the couch, reaching for the remote to stop the show you had been watching so you wouldn’t miss anything. She watched as Patri gave her a look, “What?”

“Y/N’s committed to it, now you have, too.” Patri crossed her arms.

“More like had to surrender herself,” She squinted her eyes at Patri, “But alright, I’ll bite.” She sighed, realising they were not taking no for an answer tonight. “My closet is the first door to your right. You sprung this upon me, so you go and have a look, I can’t be bothered.”

“Aw, big baby-” Patri stuck her tongue out, receiving the finger from Misa. She plopped down next to her on the couch while Jenni hurried off towards the closet, loving the power she had been given.

“You really love her, no?” Patri teased, to which Misa only rose an eyebrow. “The real deal, yeah? I can see it.”

“Patri-”

“No, listen! I love it! It’s good to see you so happy and in love. A little weird, too.”

“Don’t go all soft on me now.” Misa tried to nudge Patri away, who was giving her air kisses, but her face had softened nonetheless.

“Hold onto that, don’t let her go.” Patri shrugged matter of factly and pulled the remote out of Misa’s hands, “Just don’t you dare forget about your idiotic friends.”

Misa smiled, genuinely, “Never. To both things.”

After Jenni had returned with an armful of clothing and threw it at Misa to put on, Leila and you had returned not long after.

“Yes, that’s what we’re talking about!” Jenni looked at how well you’d cleaned up, returning your smile. She came over, seeming to fix your outfit a bit, only to quietly mutter to you, “Got her to wear the national team blazer I know you love on her.” She winked, then turned to the others. “Let’s go!”

Misa walked up to you, her fingers immediately locking with yours, and you couldn’t help but look her up and down feeling completely mesmerised. She was indeed wearing the black blazer you absolutely loved. Beneath it, she wore an elegant green V-shaped satin top that stopped right beneath her belly-button, looking as soft as the sun-kissed skin beneath. And with a pair of black tailored trousers to match, she looked absolutely ravenous.

The smirk on her face had grown as she’d watched you take her in.

“Ready to go?” She squeezed your hand, pulling you back to earth, the dangling of her car keys taking you out of your daydream.

“You’re not driving with us?” Leila asked, seeing the shake of Misa’s head, “Then why did we pick them up?”

“I’ve been wondering the same thing ever since you knocked on the door.” Misa muttered softly, playfully, having made peace with their predicament now, “But no, I want to be able to leave when we’ve had enough. I’m not letting you guys trap us again.”

You quickly plucked the keys out of her hand, then out of her reach when she tried to get them back, “Nah-ah, you always drive me everywhere. I want you to be able to have fun tonight. I’m not feeling like drinking anyway. Really, it’s okay.” You quickly added when you saw the look on her face. Misa was having a battle with herself. She hadn’t liked this turn of events, at all. It wasn’t the night she had planned and she knew you hadn’t wanted this either. For you to then sacrifice your night for her, felt wrong. If anything, she would have wanted you to have fun.

“If you’re wondering whether I can have fun without alchohol, then that’s a challenge I’ll happily take.” You shot at her when you saw the gears in her head turning for too long. She looked up, immediately, saw the playful pout on your lips and quickly planted a kiss on them. She knew this was you wanting to treat her tonight, a fair exchange for all the times she had put you first.

“Okay, let’s go, then.”

You walked out of the apartment with Misa in hand, but not after hearing the trio mutter,

“Ten euros on them leaving within the hour,”

“Pussy, make it forty... on them not even making it to the place.”

“You’re not having lots of faith in them… I call two hours, but make it forty-five.”

“Why not round it up to fifty?”

“I like odd numbers.”

“Fifty is an odd number, you doof.”

You bit your lip, realising you could have some fun with the bets they had placed.

Finding an available parking spot in the city centre on a Saturday night had deemed more of a nightmare than initially anticipated. You should’ve just gotten an Uber, but you sensed Misa had done this on purpose. She’d insisted on driving the way there, after all, but you knew it was because she often really calmed down when behind the wheel. Especially at night, with the sun down. Only this hadn’t been the most relaxed drive.

“Mierda-” She cursed as she rounded another corner, seeing a car park right in the spot she’d had her sights on.

“I’m beginning to think you took the car on purpose just so you could use the no-parking-spots excuse and drive back home.”

“Don’t tempt me,” She laughed, her hand going to your thigh as she put the car in reverse, turning back around. You grabbed it, giving it a squeeze. She squeezed back, her eyes still fixated on the road behind her before turning the car back in first gear. It was a thing the two of you often did, the squeezing, both to ground each other when things got hard, and to remind one another you were in this together. Never alone. It was something Misa had kind of initiated after a particularly rough night you’d once had. It had been the first time she’d seen you so distraught… the first time she’d seen you cry, for that matter. It had all felt a little unknown to her. She was out of her element, physically aching at how she didn’t know how to get that smile of yours to reappear again. So she’d held you, squeezed you to the beating of her heart in an attempt to calm and comfort you, trying to get you back to her. It had worked, and every other time after that.

“There!” You perched in your seat, finger pointing to the spot that had just cleared up.

“I know,” Misa muttered, almost disappointed, “Hoped you wouldn’t notice.”

“Misa-” You let out a loud laugh, loving how her eyes immediately flitted to yours, amusement on her face. She parked the car, turned it off, then turned to you.

“You know, we could just stay here.”

“And?”

“I think you know.”

“No-” You pointed a finger at her, grabbed your clutch and pressed the release button of both your seatbelts, “I’m not losing. And you’re coming with me.”

“Losing what?”

But you had already playfully ran in front of her, turning around with a smirk on your face, daring her to catch up.

“Do you even know where it is?”

“I’ll follow the music!” You yelled back.

Misa shook her head and bit her lip. You were one hell of a woman.

The club was packed, dark and filled with people who’d already drank more than just a club soda. But perhaps that was exactly the fun of places like these. People came here to let loose. To have fun. To dance without inhibitions, to mingle and meet strangers. After stuffing both yours and Misa’s ID’s back into your clutch, she pulled you close to her. It felt safe to feel the weight of her hand on the small of your back, to know she was there, caring about your safety. She cleared your way through the crowd, passed the dance floor, the bar, the bathroom before walking up to the booths lined up to the wall in the back. You recognised the familiar laughter before you saw the group. They all cheered when they realised you two had made it, after all.

“Hey, what took you so long? Pay up, Leila!” Jenni laughed as she pulled the two of you into their booth. “Patri and Ale are getting drinks, Mapi and Ona went to the restroom.” She quickly informed you two before motioning towards the bar.

You gave Olga and Ingrid a hug as best as you could over the tables filled with empty glasses. Conversation soon flowed freely. Granted, it was a little distracting that Misa’s hand rested on your leg, squeezing now and then as she fell into an idle chat with Alexia once she returned with the drinks. You sipped from your alcohol free beverage, actually finding yourself enjoying reconnecting with these girls more than you thought you would after having been plucked away from your Misa-bubble.

Olga suddenly stood up, “I want to dance. Dance?” She turned to you, then to Ingrid.

“Dance.” You nodded, sliding across Misa’s lap and out of the booth.

“Don’t get lost.” Misa smiled playfully, keeping hold of your hand until the distance made it fall back onto her lap.

“There they go, the girlfriends.” Mapi sighed dreamily, her eyes on Ingrid who blew a kiss over her shoulder.

Misa took a deep breath, watching as the three of you laughed and walked away. “I love her.”

“Yeah,” Alexia agreed, her eyes following Olga, breathless.

The song had just changed as you made your way through the crowd, the three of you holding hands so as to not lose each other. Some people who hated the new song walked away, the dispersing crowd helping Olga to find her way to the centre of the dance floor. Olga’s cheer when Shakira’s Dare’s Club mix started to play egged Ingrid and you on and the music quickly helped you move around as if no one was watching. Two girls dancing close to the three of you joined, matching your childlike joy at being able to let go after a long week of work. The neon lights flashing above you were hot on your face as you moved around. But you couldn’t care less, you were having fun. A MEDUZA song started, followed up by something from Alok’s and Tiësto’s repertoire and soon, even without alcohol, the songs started to blur together. Olga pulled you close, quickly snapping a pic, then another one as Ingrid and the two girls joined. It was fun, and you wished it would never end. Your bladder had other plans.

“Gotcha!” Olga yelled over the music when she realised what you were signing at, grabbed Ingrid’s hand and pulled the three off you out of the crowd as swiftly as she’d weaselled her way in.

At the sink, the three of you giggled.

“I needed that.” Ingrid puffed out a breath, dapping at her neck with a wet towel, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the club.

“The dancing or the break?” You nudged her, watching her reaction in the mirror as you washed your hands.

“Both.”

“Fair.” Olga nodded with a giddy smile, sitting atop the counter, handing you a paper towel from the dispenser beside her.

“Oh-” Ingrid’s face suddenly fell, “We never said goodbye to those girls.”

“Aren’t we planning on going back out there?”

You turned to Olga and watched her hop off, “I like the way you think. I’ll text the wives that we’re still A-OK.”

“I’m just imagining them sitting in that booth, so lost.” Ingrid laughed.

“Then we should probably give them something to keep them entertained, no?”

Olga opened her mouth, both surprised and impressed, “I like the way you think, again. Ready?”

You linked arms, the heat immediate and slapping in your face as the door of the restrooms opened. Someone had just thrown up close-by, not making it to the toilet in time, that much was clear by the acidy smell in your nose. Or perhaps it was just the mixture of sweat, hormones and bitterly spilt drinks. You passed the bar, pushed through the crowd just enough so that the booth where your friends sat came into view. Olga pulled out her phone, turning the flash on and waving it around. Another waving flash came into view and you got a little closer. The girls from before had left apparently, but the three of you had fun either way as you danced again, interacting with the women in the booth now and then. Patri, Ona and Leila joined- Alexia was very clear that her seat was too comfortable to leave- Jenni danced over with her drink- Mapi opened her arms as Ingrid excused herself and joined her girlfriend in the booth, and Misa… Misa was staring right at you. You couldn’t quite tell if she was mesmerised by how independent, free and joyous you looked, like a little kid on the first day of summer, if she was trying to figure out what she’d ever done to deserve you, or if she was fantasising about all the things she could’ve been doing with and to you had you never left the apartment. She hadn’t even seem to notice the finger you’d used to try and beckon her towards you. You quickly ducked into view of the video Leila was making, then returned your gaze to the booth. Misa wasn’t there. But you knew exactly where she was when two familiar hands snaked across your waist from behind, her breath fanning your neck as you heard her hoarse voice from having had to talk above the music, “You look most beautiful when you’re happy.”

Your smile widened so much, it stretched your face. You grabbed her hands, swaying your hips along to the rhythm and against hers, loving how her grip tightened. She rested her chin on your shoulder, “God, you’re the best thing to have happened to me.” She murmured against your neck. She’d long abandoned her blazer and your hands traveled up her tattooed arms before you turned around in them, giving her nose a peck.

“I’m quite sure that should be my line.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, tilted her head, “Are you now? What’s that based on?”

You hummed, your arms snaking around her neck, hers falling to your hips, “Instinct.”

“What else is that instinct of yours telling you?”

You pursed your lips, not missing the look in her eyes, the message, the request.

“Thought you could read me so well?”

Misa’s lips cracked into a grin— you had her trapped.

“I think it’s telling me to get you another glass of whatever you were drinking. Don’t want you fainting on me. You’re my ride home, after all.” She walked away backwards, eyes never leaving yours, knowing exactly what she had just done by throwing you a rope to hold onto, and then pulling it out of your reach. In the corner of your eye, you could see Patri sneaking a twenty euro bill towards Jenni. That meant one hour had passed. You’d love to see the looks on their faces as you’d ask them all your share of the money for having lasted more than two hours. If you could make it that far. Misa was making it incredibly hard to resist. You excused yourself and went back to the booth, being greeted by Alexia, who scooted over.

“Enjoying yourself?” She asked in amusement, her eyebrow raised.

“Oh, yes. You, not so much?” You guessed, sensing this wasn’t exactly Alexia’s typical Saturday night.

“I am. Look at her.” A dreamy look coated her eyes as she watced a laughing Olga, having fun. “That’s all that matters.” She mumbled, but got a little embarrassed at the soft look you were giving her, “Anyway, shouldn’t you follow Misa, or something?” She chuckled, her tone a little too suggestive.

You froze. Oh God, had Misa meant something else with her whole ‘you’re looking parched’ act? Was it some sort of euphemism? Was she waiting in the bathroom now? She couldn’t be, right?

“No…” You breathed out in doubt.

Alexia laughed at the flabbergasted look on your face, “Sure looked like it from here… the way she was admiring you. Anyway, you go have fun, you youngsters,” She playfully rolled her eyes.

You stood up, a little self-conscious now as you fixed your clothes. Patri asked if you were okay by sending a questionable thumbs up your way, one you returned with a nod and smile. Gods, okay, what the hell. You were young indeed, why not enjoy it while it lasted.

Okay, the bathrooms. Right.

You felt yourself growing a little hotter as you pushed through the crowd, thoughts racing and your heart speeding up, but you turned back around when a sweaty hand on your arm stopped you. A man stood there. Mid-twenties, ash-blonde hair and a far-off look in his dark eyes as he smiled at you. You gave him a questioning glare, pulling your arm towards your body, but his hold wouldn’t budge. He leaned in, and you immediately reared back feeling incredibly uneasy. You realised he’d leaned in to tell you something,

“Never seen you here before.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, then pulled at your arm again. He let go but put his hand on your shoulder and stood beside you, pointing towards the crowd with his drink in hand, “Wanna join me and my friends?”

“No, I’m good.” You give him another tight-lipped smile. Stay kind. Stay patient. Then slip away. You could hear yourself say over and over again in your head. You tried to step around him, but he blocked your way and his grip tightened.

“Come on, please!” He gave you a playful smile and finally let go, allowing you to breathe again. He put his hands together and pouted, “For me?”

You stepped to the right. He stepped to the right. Between his steps towards you, and your steps back, the panicked shimmying had left you with your back against one of the walls in a vacant spot of the club. Most people here were ready to leave, already too far gone to notice your predicament.

“I’d really rather not.”

“Ah, why not? I’ll buy you a drink.”

One step closer. Another step back. You hit the wall.

You shook your head, “No, thank you.”

“I’ve seen you dancing with your girls, come on, you can take them, too.”

“No, thank you. Let me go, now.” He had expertly draped his entire arm across your shoulders now, pulling you into his side, against his shirt as he dragged you a few steps back into the crowd on the outskirts of the dance floor, planning to disappear with you in the sea of people.

“Ah, Dirty Little Virgin then, I see-” He let you go, but only slightly, the smirk on his face making you sick, “I’ll buy that cocktail for you, my treat, I’m sure you’ll like it, come on. My friends are there, you’ll like them.”

Panicked, your eyes darted around you, hoping that anyone who was watching would notice you were in distress and that you did not belong to this man.

Well, so much for being young and seizing the moment, you thought.

You fought against his hold, hating how your head pressed against his clammy shirt. You couldn't breathe.

“Joder, hijo de puta, keep your filthy fucking hands off of her, you sick fuck-” You turned your head around as much as you could in his drunken but firm grip, and saw your girlfriend push two drinks into the chest of the nearest bystander.

“Now.” She growled and approached, teeth baring, seething, fuming, already working on prying his arm off you with mighty strength. He let go in a painful protest.

“Fucking hell-” He took offence, stepping in front of you as if Misa was the one he needed to protect you from.

“Step back and walk away.” She spoke through gritted teeth. You saw her clench her fist, all the anger in her body collecting in there, and you feared what the end result would be if she’d release it.

“Fucking girl telling me how to live my night-”

Misa’s eyes then quickly flickered to yours, softening slightly, needing the confirmation that you were alright. Shaken up, yes, but Misa was here, so all would be fine. You trembled but nodded.

For your sake, she clenched her fists tighter, hoping to lock her anger there, not wanting this to get out of hand. But when he turned around and made a move to pull you with him again, she pushed him against his broad shoulders. He was tall, fit, towered over her, and yet Misa seemed not intimidated in the slightest. He lost some of his balance that he’d already lost to drinking the entire night, and clashed against some dancing bystanders. They scowled, scoffed, and stopped to see what was happening. More people seemed to realise something was up and turned to stare. You looked around at how many people were already looking your way. Your eyes caught those of your friends in the crowd, who saw the look in your eyes and immediately brought the entire situation to the attention of the others before they tried to make their way over through the partying crowd.

“Fucking girl has more manners than you or I would’ve knocked you out already.”

He huffed, took a step closer to her, abandoning his quest to get you to himself.

“Yeah? Think you can beat me?”

Misa tilted her head, half accepting the challenge and not backing down from this display of alpha behaviour, “I can. Don’t want to. So walk off.” She dug her fingers into his chest, making him take a step back. He immediately closed the distance again, their faces incredibly near to each other. You were finally able to walk away from him, making sure to walk around him in a large radius. When Misa saw you in her peripheral, her arm stood out and you immediately took the invitation to stand behind her. But instead of safely tucking you closer, she pushed you further away, and fear suddenly struck you.

“Misa, come-” You softly tugged at her arm, afraid of what she'd to to him... what this man might do to her. Not that you thought she couldn’t handle him, please no. You just had to be realistic. And given his size and seeming strength, you weren’t sure how much damage this drunken fool would do to your girlfriend before she’d inevitably take him down.

“Afraid?” He taunted, standing way too close for both your comfort, but Misa didn’t waver one bit.

“Of a teenage boy throwing a hissy fit because he got rejected?”

You closed your eyes, realising Misa wasn't making it better when you saw the anger on his face.

“Then put your fucking money where your filthy mouth is.”

Your face paled as he bumped into her with his chest, but Misa barely budged. Oh, how different you thought your night would be the last time you’d heard that sentence.

“Misa, please.” You pleaded, "Let's just go home." You felt her relax, lean back as if she realised you were right. If only he had just shut up after that.

His eyes went to yours again, an unreadable look in his eyes. He huffed, “Oh, I see.”

“Good,” Misa nodded, standing in front of you when he approached, “Then you should see she’s taken and not interested and quite frankly, disgusted by you. Fucking move!” She rose her voice and pushed him when he looked at you, readying himself to think of what would no doubt be an insult or a slur.

A couple sets of arms and hands softly pried you backwards, to safety. Leila, Olga and Ingrid stood behind you, faces serious but gentle as they turned to you, pulling you out of harm’s way. You noticed Jenni, Alexia and Mapi were trying to pry Misa away from the man, making her see it was a useless thing to fight with a drunken fool who only enjoyed egging her on. But she was not backing down. Not now as the words left his mouth. Not only that— he had hurt you, intimidated you and made you feel afraid. Drunk or not, she was not going to leave without teaching a lesson to the one who had wiped the smile of her lover’s face. You watched as Misa’s friends pulled at her, pried at her, tried to talk in on her, tell her it was not worth it, but all you could see was the constant clenching of her fists. This was bad.

You rubbed your temples, burying your head in your hands before looking back at Misa, “This is bad, get her out of there-” You muttered, stopping the trembling of your fingers by nibbling on them. Someone stroked your back as another hand with a glass of water was pushed in your face. You knew they meant well, but you couldn’t rest and calm down until Misa was fine, preferably a thousand miles away from the fool.

“Fucking disgusting.” He used her words against her and spat at the ground. Within an instant, yelling ensued as you saw flying limbs and people dashing away. You jumped forward, a rush of instinct telling you to protect what you loved before arms kept you where you were, putting you down onto a stool, not wanting you to get hit in the process or to upset Misa even more. Leila went to stand in front of you, obstructing your view while glancing behind her now and then.

“It’s okay- she’s okay- they’re all okay.” Ingrid reassured you, her eyes following her own girlfriend with worry.

“Did he hit her?”

“No.” Olga immediately shook her head, a little too quickly for your liking.

“She him?” You wondered, looking back up at Leila.

“Don’t think so.”

You rubbed your knees and dropped your head.

You could hear yelling.

“Hey- no, think of your career!”

“Fuck my career, think of my girl, you mean?! I’ll never put my fucking career before my girl. I fucking fight for what I love.”

“Hey- I know, I know, but she wouldn’t want you to do this.”

You realised the girls around you were joined by Ona and Patri as they started to whisper, then whisked you away.

“Time to go.”

“She’s behind us.” Patri immediately spoke when she saw the protest in your eyes.

“Say that the fuck again!? You made a fucking mistake laying a hand on her, you hear me?! Look me in the eyes and say that again!”

You glanced over Ingrid’s shoulder and saw Mapi, Jenni and Alexia forcefully shepherd a furious Misa along between them, who threw insult after insult over her shoulder at the man being held back by security. She looked as fine as she could given the situation. You saw no cuts, swelling or blood. At least not on her face. And with each passing step, the distance between her and the man grew. That calmed you down. For now.

One of the bouncers walked behind your group, making sure you left without reconnecting with the man outside, telling them your night was over and to not return. Misa got mad at that, saying they should ban the man for sexual harassment, call the police, even. The bouncer only signed her to calm down, then told her they’d figure it out once they left so the fight wouldn’t commence in the streets. He kept a close watch on you all even as you exited the street. When the music boomed further in the distance and the streets turned vacant, Misa seemed to snap out of her anger and rushed through the group, hands immediately replacing those of Olga and Ingrid as she pushed you against her chest.

“You’re okay now.” She kept muttering, and you realised she probably did so to herself, as well. Then, “I’m sorry.” Over and over again.

“I was worried you’d hurt yourself.” You let Misa squeeze the air out of you, burying yourself in her embrace.

The biting tone to her voice returned, “Well, I was worried he’d hurt you.”

“He didn’t.”

“Okay.” Misa put you at an arm’s length in front of her, examining your eyes to see if you were lying, then pushed the stray hairs from all the dancing out of your face.

“But I really want to go home now.”

Misa’s heart broke at your voice. You sounded so disappointed… defeated, that your night had ended like this. This was not the night you’d had in mind, and it didn’t seem like you were leaving with those forty-five euros either.

Misa also couldn’t help but feel something for the way you had called her place home.

She grabbed your hand, squeezed it twice, I’m here, you’re okay, and turned to the others. She quickly thanked them for looking after you and making sure she hadn’t just killed someone, seeing you couldn't, and then pulled you into her as you walked back to where you’d parked the car. Misa softly pried the clutch out of your hands and dug around for her car keys.

“No- I said I’d drive. I haven’t drank anything. I'm fine, I can do it.” You protested, only for Misa to open the passenger door and help you in, even going as far as to put on your seatbelt. She planted a kiss on your cheek.

“I haven’t drank anything either.”

“I told you I would-”

“I can have fun without alcohol, too, believe it or not. And I was having a good night before-” She stopped herself, shrugged it off and got in the car herself, "Well, I didn't want to drink too much anyway, because then I wouldn't be able to protect you the way I want."

“You do too much for me.” Your little voice sounded in the quiet of the car once she had driven off.

“There’s no such thing when it comes to you.” Misa kept her eyes on the road, her hand squeezing your knee to comfort you.

“But you never let me do anything back. It’s give and take, you know?”

“I don’t see our relationship as transactional. I do things for you because I love you. That doesn’t mean I need anything in return.”

It was silent for a while, until you spoke up.

“‘Kay, good. Because I’m in your debt after tonight and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to do such a thing back to you. He was big.”

“His ego, maybe.” Misa snorted, finally being able to see the humor of it all now that she had you safe and sound beside her.

You didn’t laugh along, instead wondering, “Did you hit him?”

“Wouldn’t be sitting here if I did.”

You thought of the bouncers and security, “Yeah, okay.”

“I wanted to, though.” She turned to look at you, “Said some real nasty shit about you, us, then swung at me. He was so drunk that he almost hit Mapi. That’s when security stepped in and held him back. Couldn’t get a punch in even if I wanted to.”

“So he didn’t hit you either?”

She stopped at the intersection, “No, love, I’m fine.” She grabbed your clenched hand, softly pried her fingers through and planted a kiss on the back of it. She didn’t need to ask if you were fine, she could see you were still a little shaken, the worry for her only slowly disappearing.

“You could have ruined your entire career back there.”

Misa shrugged, driving off again, “So?”

“So?! Everything you worked for?! Your entire life?!”

“That’s only slightly true. You’re my entire life. Do you really I think I would have picked it over your safety?” Fuelled by passion for you, she continued, “Listen, football is everything to me. I breathe it, I am it, but at the end of the day, you are what keeps me holding on. You are what drives me, who I want to make proud, who I think of at the start and end of each day. Football became my everything when I grew up and I had a rough time, when I didn’t have a lot of people in my corner. It’s like a best friend. It filled up some of the loneliness I felt. Gave me a purpose, gave me friends, gave me something to focus on, something to enjoy. But you… I’m not sure I can even properly explain what you mean to me without making it sound too dramatic or cheesy, but it’s true. You are my everything. You are... this tangible kind of love, something I can hold and instantly feel relief, love, belonging…. You are joy when I see your smile, you’re my idea of a fun time whenever I hear you laugh. Your love is so big that I can even feel what you feel for me from miles away. That I’m wanted. That I'm yours completely. I’ve never been lonely a day in my life ever since we got together, not even when you are out of the country. I love you to your core.” She turned to you, finally daring to look into your eyes, “That’s why I don’t need anything in return. How can I want even more when you’ve already given me all of that?”

Tears prickled your eyes and your throat burned as you tried to hold them in. Misa was never one for grant speeches or declarations of love. She never needed to tell you how she felt about you when she already showed you. But this… it had moved you.

You could see she had played back her monologue in her head and grew a little embarrassed, her hands gripping the wheel and her eyes focusing on the road.

“Don’t forget that, okay?” She softly added.

She saw you wipe at your eyes and felt you move to her side, planting a teary kiss on her temple. She heard you whisper those three words, words that were spoken by everyone in the entire world to declare one’s love, and yet, even while so common, they still made her heart burst.

Misa smiled, “I love you, too.”

The two of you relished in the way your hearts swelled for a bit, until your chuckle filled the quiet car. She turned to you, amused yet confused all the same.

"Que?"

"I thought your whole 'leaving to get drinks' thing was a euphemism. I was on my way to the restroom, actually. Then I saw you with those drinks and God- I could slap-"

"Wait- you wanted to... with me... there?"

"I mean... I figured you-" You stopped.

Misa shook her head, telling you it was okay. She bit her lip, turned to you, her eyes flicking to your body, then to your face. She shrugged and turned back to the road, a smug smile on her face knowing you were hers to love.

"Can't say I hadn't thought about it, but I wanted them to lose, you know? And if we'd started that, I'd have dragged you back home to finish it."

You gasped, ignoring the flush of your cheeks at her confession, "You knew about the bets, too?!"

"They weren't exactly being secretive about it."

"Right?!"

"Having said that," Misa started to drum her fingers against the steering wheel and absentmindedly looked across the road, making it clear to you that her next statement wouldn't be as unserious, "Guess it's safe to say that if there'll ever even be a next time, I won't let you out of my sight all goddamn night. Maybe I can take you up on that offer then." You felt the squeeze on your leg and your hand found hers, squeezing back.

"I'm good on clubs for a while."

"Fine by me. That way we'll never have to leave the apartment again, no?" You pushed her away, seeing the suggestive look on her face, that of a teenager high on hormones.

"Don't you start getting ideas into that pretty head of yours, now."

She held up her hand in defeat, "Vale-" She laughed, then quieted down, her mood softening.

"Let's go home then."

She looked your way, then realised home was already sitting next to her.

⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ

do not publish elsewhere without my consent 🖤

#woso x reader #woso imagine #misa rodriguez one shot #misa rodriguez x reader

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reasonsforhope · 4 months

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[Warning: Graphic (some very graphic) shark-fishing pictures at the link.]

"Suhardi isn’t your average snorkeling guide. Born on the Indonesian island of Lombok, he’s spent his life on water. While he now seeks out sharks for the enjoyment of tourists, he once hunted sharks to help earn money to feed his family and educate his two children.

Suhardi was a fisherman for more than 20 years. He first started fishing working on his parents’ boat, but was then asked to join the crew of a shark boat where he was told he could earn a lot of money. Back on deck, he looks embarrassed to divulge what a meager wage it was, but finally confesses he earned around $50 for up to a month at sea.

Now he and 12 other former shark fishermen are part of The Dorsal Effect, an ecotourism company that helps ex-shark hunters find a new vocation. Each week, the team takes groups of tourists, schoolchildren and university students to off-the-grid locations and guides them around pristine reefs. Each trip is designed to take guests on an exploratory journey of both the shark trade and marine conservation through the eyes of the Sasak people of Lombok.

Lombok is a hotspot for marine diversity, sitting just east of the Wallace Line, a biogeographical boundary separating Asia and Australia and their respective fauna. Pristine coral gardens and around 80 species of sharks can be found in its waters. The island is also part of the world’s largest shark-fishing nation. Only the whale shark (Rhincondon typus) is protected in Indonesia; all other sharks can be legally caught.

The Dorsal Effect first launched in 2013, a year after Suhardi met Singaporean ecologist Kathy Xu, who had traveled to Lombok to find out more about the shark trade. The diminutive but quietly determined Xu wanted to protect sharks, but because she knew shark fishing was poorly paid and dangerous, she wanted to hear the fishermen’s stories too. They told her how once they could fish for sharks close to shore, but now with the shark population dropping, the fishermen said they needed to travel farther out to sea, only to come home with a relatively poor catch. The reduced catch also meant reduced pay, so they often couldn’t cover their costs...

Yet, when Xu asked why fishers didn’t seek out another trade, she learned they didn’t want to be separated from the sea. They saw it as part of their heritage.

But as they spoke longer, the shark fishermen talked about the coral gardens that could be found under the waves, ones that only they knew about. Inspired by a whale shark diving trip she’d taken with scientists on the Great Barrier Reef, Xu had an idea. “If such spots exist,” she recalls telling the fishers, “I could take tourists out with you and pay you more than you earned shark fishing”.

At first, Xu guided the former shark fishermen on how to become eco-friendly tour operators. They dropped anchor away from the reef, served guests plant-based dishes, and made sure all trash was taken back to shore. But then Xu saw that something special was happening: The former fishermen had started to take the guest experience into their own hands, making sure tourists felt at home. Suhardi painted “Welcome” in large letters over the front of his boat, fitted green baize to the top deck for outdoor seating, and hung curtains in the cabin so his guests could enjoy some shade.

Suhardi has already bought a new boat with his earnings from snorkeling trips. “Every day is my best day,” laughs Suhardi, whose smile always travels from his mouth to his eyes.

While they were receiving tourists from across the globe, there was another group that Xu wanted to reach out to. “I think it was the teacher in me who felt impassioned about influencing the young,” she says. She reached out to schools and created a five-day program that would help students understand the shark trade and local conservation efforts. During the program, paid for by the school and students, participants would not only meet the ex-shark fishermen so they could ask them about their lives, but also hear from NGOs such as the Wildlife Conservation Society about their efforts to slow the trade. The Dorsal Effect also hired marine biologists to host nightly lectures and help the students with their field surveys...

The students were faced with the realities of the fishing trade, but they were also encouraged to take a balanced view by The Dorsal Effect team. The villagers weren’t just taking the fins, and throwing away the rest of the shark; they processed every piece of the animal. While they did sell the meat and fins to buyers at the market, they also sold the teeth to jewelers, and the remains for pet food.

The Dorsal Effect also takes students on an excursion to the fishermen’s village, a small island that lies off the coast of Lombok. Marine biologist Bryan Ng Sai Lin, who was hired by The Dorsal Effect team, says that on one trip with students he was surprised by how quickly the young people understood the situation. “One of them said it’s good to think about conservation, but at the same time these people don’t really have any other choice,” Lin says....

Conservation scientist Hollie Booth of Save Our Seas, which does not work directly with The Dorsal Effect, says the need to provide legal profitable alternatives to shark fishing is critical: “We are never going to solve biodiversity and environment issues unless we think about incentives and take local people’s needs into account. These kinds of programs are really important.”"

-via Mongabay, December 15, 2023

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radfemverity · 7 months

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All day on Twitter, pro Palestine westerners of both sexes have been attempting to justify the scenes in the viral video of the deceased, bloodied, half naked woman, being paraded through the streets in a pick up truck by men with machine guns chanting Allah Akbar.

It's come in 3 forms:

1. saying "where were you when the IDF did [X crime] to [Y woman]?" to people they've literally never met and do not know the politics of. They're just assuming that anyone distressed at the footage is a Jewish/Israeli supremacist who doesn't care for innocent slaughtered Palestinian people.

These whataboutery addicts are disingenuous as all fuck, and completely desensitised to acts of violence, so much so that they project their own inability to extend compassion for murder victims on "the other side", onto those whose tweets they're replying to. Victims are just gotchas to them.

But they're cupcakes compared to the next 2 categories.

2. saying that these men's murders of women, abduction of elderly ladies (separate viral incident) and other crimes against civilians is a justified reaction against apartheid and/or settler colonialism, and that Israeli people have had it coming.

I cannot believe I have to say this, but regardless of your opinion on the conflict, whether you’re a Zionist or believe Israel is an apartheid state, if you believe random women, young and old, and their children, being abducted, bombed, raped, murdered and paraded through the streets by men, is a justified response to oppression, then you are dead inside. That’s not brave rebellion. It’s plain old male savagery.

There is, sadly, an academic case which could be made that such brutalities assist the war effort of a nation to gain independence – this being a reference to the fact that the most savage empires, the ones willing to commit the most gruelling acts, tend to be the ones to come out on top during wars. History shows us - think of Rome, Japan, etc.

But this type of speculation almost always crosses the line into justifying such crimes, because it was never about speculation for speculation’s sake. It was about wanting the other side - including women and children - slaughtered. Pro-Palestine Twitter have demonstrated this perfectly today.

Please let me make this excruciatingly clear, this political behaviour is exhibited by practically every male-dominated movement and ideology there is, which is… everything other than radical feminism. Zionists do this too. As do conservatives, liberals, marxists, fascists, progressives, pacifists, nationalists of all stripes – supremacist and anti-colonial, theocrats, Islamists, etc. It’s just that the issue of today is the Israel Palestine conflict, so this is the obvious example to reference.

And the 3rd form of response, much like the 2nd, is to justify these crimes against civilians as an act of rebellion, but go one step further and laugh about it. Saying things like "play stupid games, win stupid prizes 🤣🤣", "Imfao at Israelis suddenly pretending to be victims", making wojak memes and spamming them to the people expressing distress over seeing that video of the dead woman, etc. See this example from a trans-identified man:

Notice how at no point have I said my opinion on the Israel Palestine conflict? Because I have one. And it's probably not what either side would expect. And that’s exactly the problem. My disgust at Palestinian men parading a dead Israeli woman through the streets and spitting on her is automatically interpreted to be me supporting the Israeli state.

But your political view on the conflict should have a 0% impact on this fundamental principle: as a feminist, you do not EVER, FUCKING EVER, think that a woman on "the other side" of a mens war deserves to die.

To accuse someone of not caring about dead Palestinian women, as pro-Palestine Twitter have been doing all day, to random stranger who simply said "this is horrific" re: the dead woman in the truck, is:

a) to project your own heartlessness toward women on "the other side" onto them.

b) to further normalise the glorification of violent men, under this false veneer of their crimes being a necessary and justified revolt against whatever type of oppression they have in their society. As if stripping a woman bare and parading her through the streets has ever been a practically useful or ethical war tactic.

And c) to imply that those on "the other side" deserve whatever cruel fate meets them, simply because the male class of their society committed unjustifiable crimes.

I cannot think of anything less pro-woman, anything less feminist, than that.

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cyndaquilisbestboi · 10 months

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One thing I’ve yet to see talked about with Nimona, but that I really really liked, is how it tackles the mythology of war and valor. Specifically, when we first see Gloreth during the intro book sequence, she’s depicted as a full grown adult, this divine, messianic figure heroically battling threats to her nation and people. The city’s equivalent of “good god” is even “good Gloreth”. But then when we actually get to see when all this started through Nimona’s flashback by the well, Gloreth is *very much* a whole ass six year old, maybe eight or nine if we’re stretching it. The mythical hero driving back the “evil darkness” is a few inches shy of a toddler. We don’t know much about the intervening conflict between Nimona and the people of the city, other than that it probably lasted longer than that one mob burning down their own village, and Gloreth abandoning Nimona. But one thing we do see when we pick back up 1000 years later is that the “elite force of knights” who Gloreth (supposedly) put in place whose “descendants would protect the kingdom for generations to come” are being succeeded by a whole new batch of child soldiers. The footage of Ballister breaking into the training grounds as a child isn’t him running to meet adult heroes honing their skills, it’s of him as a seven or eight year old trying to go train with the other child soldiers. This whole movie is a commentary on how media likes to portray soldiers as mature adults who go to war for honor, glory, and patriotism instead of a pack of kids being pushed into the line of fire because it’s what the adults in power tell them is right. It’s certainly something that stood out to me as someone who’s grown up in the hyper nationalism of the US, has seen who society *claims* is sacrificing their lives in military service, and has also seen who *actually* is recruited (the fact that Ballister is a homeless street kid who tries to use the military to get a decent life is not an accident.) And I think that’s neat and important.

#nimona #ballister boldheart #nimona spoilers #gloreth #fuck the usa #fuck the military

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chefkids · 2 months

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Wondering if you have any thoughts on the symbolism of “our mother of victory” line between the siblings. Not sure if it has any meaning behind just reflecting their (probably) catholic upbringing, but I don’t trust anything in this show to not have further meaning so wondering what smarter minds out there mean…

Our Mother of Victory, Pray for Us

The root of this is in the saying Our Lady of Victory, Pray for Us, which comes from a battle that the Catholics won against the Ottoman Turks. It is often used as a prayer before big event, Notre Dame football team says it before football games for good luck. Adding mother instead of Lady places their mother, Donna, in comparison to a literal Saint, the Virgin Mary. Which is ironic and part of their inside joke because as we know she is far from a Saint.

But I actually think this is a reference to a John Hughes movie called The Great Outdoors, a movie about bear attacks believe it or not. In the opening scene the say Our Lady of Victory, Pray for Us.

We already know Chris Storer has said Hughes movies are a big source of inspiration, specifically in season 2. He included songs from movies like Pretty in Pink, National Lampoons Vacation, and he even gave Kevin McCalliper McCallister from Home Alone a shout out.

Yes. Even more Bears and Fish. So bear with me.

The Great Outdoors is about a family from Chicago that goes on a trip to a cabin and the mother's sister and her husband, who they don't really get along with, invite themselves on the trip. At the start of the movie the dad tells them all a scary story about a man eating bear that he saw through the window and shot at but is still on the loose.

The Bear also starts off with a man going face to face with a bear. The bulk of the movie is about the two families not getting along, but by the end of it, the mythological bear appears and chases them into their cabin and attacks them, but they end up scaring it away and then they all get along and things work out between them.

The first Bear attack after their prayer was with Mikey and Donna

The second Bear attack was with Carmy

But this time, they were actually victorious. Because of Sydney. She managed to get the Bear away from them so they could keep going.

She is their miracle. Right before Sydney ever appeared there was a Virgin Mary figure. Sydney is always portrayed like Mary with light behind her, even with her hair always covered and in blue and white. Mikey is viewed as a Jesus like figure, he died so that they could all fix their sins and the restaurant. He is this ghostly figure whose memory is everywhere. Sydney and Mikey tied together, and she is the one that takes on his last words. Let it rip.

Carmy views Syd as a miracle, he could barely even look at her when he said it. Finding the money in the tomato cans was a miracle, it allowed her to come back and be with him. Her coming to work for him in the first place was a miracle, she came in at the perfect time when he needed her the most. Their Mother of Victory was not their mother at all, but Sydney.

#the bear #the bear meta #sydcarmy #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #the bear fx #john hughes #the great outdoors

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contentloadingandstuff · 26 days

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Discovering Your Past - Eula & Keqing x Male!Reader

In which they find out you were abused by your ex.

CW: Mentions of past trauma - physical abuse and SA. Modern AU. A/N: My fics are getting longer recently. I wonder if you guys mind?

Injuries are a natural part of life.

A scraped knee, a concussion, a sprained or broken limb - all creatures will have to endure these hardships one way or another. And, as the saying goes, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Each wound leaves a scar, each fight or accident is a lesson for the future on what to do or avoid.

What about those on the other end? Most feel regret about hurting others, are forced to do it or are convinced of their actions' justified nature. Yet among those are some starkly different cases. People who enjoy causing pain, be it physical or mental. And, undoubtedly, she was one of them.

Fate had it that your heart longed for her. She was a beauty, benign and friendly, whose charms worked on you without fail. She pushed, she pulled, slowly dragging you into her web. Your mind was too clouded with feelings to notice just how badly she trapped you. Like a spider she wrapped you in silky touches and words of affection like in a cocoon, and you were completely oblivious to your situation. And that she was - an apex predator, an effortless liar and natural manipulator. She stoked the flames of family conflicts, estranging you from your loved ones. Friends? She gave you a simple choice - it's me or them. You were coaxed into signing off your house under her name, as she encouraged you to do with many of your belongings, until you had nothing. Time and time again she pulled your strings through your heart, backing you into a corner. Alone. Unable to escape. Without anyone to turn to, anywhere to get away.

When your eyes opened at last, nobody was there to hear you scream.

Years. It took you two whole years to escape her clutches, two years of cruelty hidden behind a veil of love. With only the clothes on your back and some Mora in your pocket, you set off to another nation. There, you found a new home, and a new love. Sweet, caring and warm.

But wounds of the past cannot be hidden forever.

You push the door behind you, closing it with an accidently loud thud. Eula kicks off her high heels and enters the hall, placing down her bag and taking her jacket off. You put yours on the hanger and move to take hers, but she sends you a sharp look and walks past you, doing it herself.

The silence is tense. You know what you did.

“Honey, listen. I know I shouldn't have started that discussion-” You try to speak, but she turns around and cuts you off.

“Yes, you shouldn't have.”

Her eyes send daggers towards you. Your heart aches at the sight of your lover so full of anger, all because of you. Her family wasn't easy to interact with. Her choice of career made her the pariah of the line, but after she married you, the relations seemingly normalized enough to make them liveable. Seemingly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have. I mustn't do that ever again. I promise I won't.” You raise your open hands, as if showing you're unarmed. What was supposed to calm her down just irritates her.

She scoffs and approaches you. “I say you are an intelligent man, but times like these are when I doubt it. What's so hard to understand in ‘my family isn't normal and the less you interact with them the better’?”

She's right. Eula has told you time and time again that the opinions her father, mother, grandparents, uncles and aunts hold are final. Nothing will change them, they won't ever back down. They are egomaniacal with a tendency to bring those around them down to elevate themselves. And yet, there's something drawing you to them, something natural that tells you that they can be a source of warmth.

Because that's how things are supposed to be. A family should love each other, be united and supportive instead of polarized and hateful. Something in your soul doesn't seem to understand that you can't find any support in her side of the family.

“I know, Eula. I try to-”

“Then your ‘trying’ is not enough!” Her voice elevates further. There is something building in your chest. The pressure crawls from your heart up through your throat, rotting itself inside your neck. A choking feeling.

“Y/N, you shouldn't talk to them! Never, ever. You know how it ends, don't you? They bring you down, they hurt and belittle you. And you know that, don't you?”

Her eyes are narrowed. She speaks louder now, her words coming from a place of compassion and love rather than hostility. Your mind, however, is focused on something else.

Something familiar.

Her tone picks up, and so does your heartbeat. She's almost screaming now.

“Sorry, dear, but are you masochistic? Or just stupid?! I will have vengeance!”

Your hyper focused eyes spot movement. Her hand goes upwards, your chest sinking. Body stiffening, you turn your head down and sideways, exposing your cheek.

Just as she taught you.

Fighting back was pointless.

You deserve it.

You hold your breath.

Silence.

The blow doesn't connect. You hear the sounds of a barefoot step. You crack your eyes open. You see Eula has taken a step back, her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. She blinks a few times and pulls her hand back towards her body.

“Not t-that kind of vengeance.” Eula barely mumbles the words out in pure confusion. She shakes her head in disbelief, her gaze leaving you and dropping to the floor. “Never. I w-would never-”

You spring back to life, as if a grave threat or danger just vanished.

“No no no, it's alright, honey. I just got a little scared of you, haha. It's fine, really!” You smile sheepishly, shame crawling under your skin. On reflex or out of habit, you rub your cheek. “Maybe I really am stupid, for being scared and all, you know?”

She takes a slow step closer. Her voice is far quieter than mere seconds ago, now down from a scream to a whisper.

“No. Don't call yourself that. My… My emotions got the better of me, honey. I’m sorry.” Eula’s voice composes, worry furrowing her brow as she stretches out her arm towards you, this time taking care to do it slowly. “May I…?”

You smile and nod, letting the palm of her hand connect to your cheek. Her touch is gentle, fingers tracing your skin with utmost care.

Your skin is so soft, so smooth, familiar. Her heart clenches, her mind holding no doubt about your reaction. You are not someone easily scared, nor are you particularly fearful of harm. Something, somebody…

“Who was it?” Her hand trails down smoothly, coming to rest on your shoulder. “Who hurt you?”

You shake your head. “What? What do you mean? Nobody, I’m fine-”

“I said…” She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “... who hurt you?”

At an instant, the thoughts in your mind already form into a rebuttal, a measly attempt to cover the truth. But you know better than that. Eula isn't that stupid.

You sigh, trying to figure out what to say. Seeing your hesitation, she places both of her arms on your shoulders, her eyes focusing on yours. Within her beautiful irises fading from deep purple to light yellow you find a steadiness worthy of a captain, but also a lover.

“You don't have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable, honey.” She speaks softly, stroking your skin in calming circles. “I just need to know if justice has been served, or some additional, very particular and very severe vengeance needs to be added to my to-do list.”

“My ex-girlfriend is… She’s no longer a threat, alright?” You close the distance between you and Eula and embrace her. Your lover secures her arms around you right away, providing you with just the comfort you seek. “I just don’t want to go back to those days. They’re over and I just want to focus on you… On somebody that actually loves me. Somebody that doesn’t scream at me for no reason, belittles and insults me, and…”

Your voice trails off. Images and sensations rush through your memory. Every insult, every impact weighs on your voice, trapping it beneath the torrent of nightmarish memories. Eua squeezes you tighter.

“Shh. Don’t think about it now, sweetie. You're here, safe in my arms. I promise to be your shield. However…”

Eula's characteristic pout forms on her face.

“For not telling me about this, I will have vengeance.”

“That was a little shameful for me-” She cuts you off.

“Silence. My retribution is nigh. For your transgression, I shall cuddle you and feed you ice cream while subjecting you to the terror of your favorite movie.” She narrows her eyes theatrically before gently, but firmly grabbing a hold of your wrist. “You cannot escape now.”

You smile in horror.

The screen flashes with a jump scare as a curtain is moved aside. A disfigured monstrosity covered in black goo and rags opens its jaw to reveal a set of sharp, but surprisingly pristine teeth.

“Brains!” Its voice is clearly augmented in some way, deep and a little echoing.

The punk screams at this sight but before he can do anything, the zombie grabs his head with its skeletal hands and bites down. The rest of the group squeals. The man's head is cracked open like an egg, filling the undead's mouth with fake blood and flesh-like props.

“Oh my…” Keqing can't help but gasp a little, her arms tightening around your chest slightly. “That's a lot of jaw force…”

As the zombie digs into the man's brain, a joke comes to your mind.

“He's not going to extract a lot of brain from him, is he?”

In response, Keqing chuckles a little. “Yeah. But at least he is also quite brave. If not for him, that girl would have been the meal instead.”

“True, true.”

The movie continues. The female lead escapes the locker she was trapped in moments ago as her friend is being devoured. Another character throws an empty bucket of paint at the creature, making it fall back, before raising up and exclaiming joyously:

“More brains!”

The kids scream and run away. Keqing, as much as she finds the movie interesting, can't help but recall one scene in particular.

A smirk settles on her delicate features. “So… How's the movie? Do you like it?”

You nod vigorously. “Of course! It's a classic that I wanted to watch for a long time now, but never got around to that. And I can confidently say that I regret not watching it earlier. It's a lot of fun.”

Keqing hums in understanding. Her fingers, one of them brandishing a beautiful and intricate golden ring, slowly move up onto your leg.

“Did you enjoy any scene in particular, honey?” Your eyes follow her hand as it moves up, each finger making a slow, deliberate step.

Just a glance at her slight blush and sly smirk is enough to make you catch on, making your cheeks heat up as well. You gulp.

“Well…” You start, but Keqing places a finger on your lips, silencing you.

“Aw, sweetie~ I know full well how you were eyeing that girl. Your thoughts were betrayed by much more than just your stare.”

Her hands move up, sliding underneath your shirt and caressing your exposed chest. You feel her desire through her movements, careful, seductive, yet impatient at the same time. A little shiver of excitement crawls through your body.

“Honestly, Y/N, I can't blame you. That redhead was quite a beauty, after all. ”

Her hands clench over your body as she rolls to sit on your lap, her eyes, twinkling with desire, pointed right at you. Keqing sends you a wink. Your hands settle on her buttocks.

“But you see, my dear, you got me just a little too jealous to resist showing this handsome guy which girl his attention should be on~” Her hands shift to meet yours, fingers wrapping around your wrists. “So relax and let me have the spotlight~”

Your eyes widen as she hoists your arms off her and pins them to the wall above your head. You try to struggle away, but her grip is iron thanks to the additional strength provided by her Vision. An attempt to release your body from underneath hers fails as well. You're nervous - this never happened before.

“Keqing, you're-” You start to say, but are interrupted by her right hand locking onto your throat.

Your hands clench, eyes growing wide. You choke, any words of protest dying in your restricted windpipe. You look at Keqing, who smiles mischievously, completely oblivious to your discomfort.

“What did I say? Bad boy!” She uses her other hand to pry yours off her choking arm. You relent, shocked and increasingly scared at her sudden roughness. “Now stay still, or you'll regret it~”

Tears form in your eyes as she leans and begins kissing and licking your cheek, adding small bites here and there. You close your eyes, not wanting to see what happens next. The feeling of her genuine affection recalls different images in your mind. The past and the present melt into one in your mind.

As you lay helpless, Keqing continues loving you until her tongue hits an unusual note of salt on your skin. She pulls back and, upon seeing you crying, lets go of you right away. Her hands go to cover her mouth in an expression of pure horror.

“I’m sorry! I’m… Oh Gods, I didn't mean to-!”

You squirm away and, in response, Keqing jumps off of you. She reaches towards you, but ultimately stops herself. Shame, guilt and sadness light up her face, hidden behind her small hands.

You wipe your eyes with your sleeve. By now your senses have returned. Her reaction brought you back at an instant. You get up and approach her.

“Keqing, I'm sorry, nothing-”

You're interrupted as she dashes past you. You can only call out to her as she runs to the bathroom and slams the door behind her. The sound of a lock turning halts your movements.

You sigh and drop back down on the couch. The movie is still playing. Your ears pick up the sounds of soft sobbing from behind the bathroom doors. The heart tells you to get up, to talk to her, to knock down the door if need be, but the brain speaks with reason. She needs time, and you know it. It's better to let her calm down on her own. If you were to approach her now, she likely wouldn't speak to you, let alone open the door.

Tears return to the corners of your eyes. Your heart aches at the sound of her pain. You can tell what she's thinking. That she's awful, dangerous, creepy, abusive. That it's all her fault.

But the truth? She's not the problem. You are.

The TV's noise irritates you. You turn it off and throw the remote across the room. Your head falls into your hands.

How could you have done this to her?

Why can't you just let go?

Why are you so weak?

A shaky sentence manages to make its way out of your lips.

“It's all my fault.”

—

Deafening silence was all that filled the following hour when her crying died down. You went through every possibility of what would happen when the bathroom door would open. You planned what to tell her and how, you anticipated all of her possible reactions. You knew you couldn't fail again. You couldn't leave her in the dark and risk another incident like this.

She shouldn't suffer because of me, you thought. It was your obligation to be transparent with your wife. Not like you weren't dying to apologize, to comfort her, to let her know it isn't her fault. But you were patient.

When the door finally opened, Keqing looked abysmal. Her make-up was completely gone, first made running with tears, then washed away along with them. Her hair was a mess, not a trace of her usual prim and proper style left. Her eyes were red and barely open.

You spoke gently. You hugged her, asking for a chance to explain yourself. She nodded wordlessly and you sat with her by the table. There, you told her everything. You told Keqing about your previous partner and about exactly what you suffered at her hands. Your wife was very quiet, but still nodded every now and then. From the shakiness of her voice when she spoke the few words in your conversation, you could tell she was stopping herself from bursting into tears again. Nonetheless, you continued until the story was told.

“As such, Keqing, my wife, my love, the sun to my moon, none of what happened is your fault.” You continue, following the script you prepared in your mind. “It was my weakness and my inability to move on that caused all of this in the first place. For that, I’m… sorry. I truly am.”

She nods. Her eyes are focused on her hands, fingers fiddling with each other. Keqing slowly lifts her eyes to meet yours. You spot tears gathering on her features.

“Why… I don't understand…” She starts, but upon realizing her instability, she sniffles and swallows the sadness weighing on her chest. “Why would you ever say that you're weak?”

You sigh. “I should have moved on by now, but instead, I kept it with myself and now it hurt you as well. It is my pain and thus my responsibility to handle it.”

“No, n-no that's… How… How could someone such as you be weak?” She shakes her head. “You survived so much. So much pain, so much fear, so much hurt… And yet here you are, Y/N. Not only trusting another woman, a woman whom you not only married, but also allowed into your bed. I can't imagine myself doing something like that so quickly. You've moved on, honey. You regained the strength to trust and to love again. How can this be called anything but strong?”

You open your mouth to challenge her on this, but she acts first.

Keqing breaches the gap between you and falls into your arms. Her body wraps around yours, holding onto you tightly. One of her hands travels to your cheek.

“Y/N, you're strong. For having endured it, for having moved on, trusted again.”

You drop your gaze. Perhaps she is right. Keqing gently lifts your cheek to direct your attention back at her. She smiles, her tearful eyes shining with boundless affection.

“You're the strongest man I've ever known.”

Thanks for reading!

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