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fangswbenefits · 7 months

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The Arrangement (4) - Solution

Chapter summary: Wyll comes bearing a solution to your predicament with Astarion... what could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Word count: 3.5k

Previous chapter . Series Masterlist . Ao3

Snow.

Why was it snowing in Baldur's Gate this time of the year?

It didn't make any sense whatsoever.

But there was no denying it when the cold yet tender caresses of snowflakes began to spread across the swell of your cheeks.

A distant voice was calling out to you, but you could only smile blissfully at the warm embrace of its familiarity.

It was as the winter sun that insisted on tearing through storm clouds rolling over the majestic Baldurian mountains: powerful enough to melt the frost away, and unforgiving once its rays shined out the brightest.

The faint scent of bergamot laced with rosemary surrounded you like a soft blanket.

You did recognise that scent… and your smile immediately dropped.

The voice got louder and louder, but your feet were now moving on their own until you were at the edge of a cliff.

Then you plummeted without looking back.

An agonising scream reverberated through your mind like a knife in the dark, twisting and prodding until you jolted awake at once.

Your eyes snapped open and you saw Astarion's face first and felt his icy fingers on your face next.

As a surge of panic and dread took over, you instinctively slapped his hand away.

“What are you doing?”

“You were squirming and screaming.”

You quickly propped yourself on your elbows, realising he sat at your feet, brows furrowed and an unreadable look on his face.

Another nightmare? But it hadn't started off like that. They rarely did.

As your eyes roamed along the length of your body, it dawned on you that his scent had made it all the way to your subconscious because his cloak was now covering you.

Noticing your realisation, he cleared his throat. “You were shivering in your sleep. You humans can be so… frail.”

You wish you could hate him. You truly wish you could loathe him with your entire being, especially after your earlier exchange.

It would make it so much easier to overcome the longing feelings you had for him.

But, it would seem, he was bent on making it harder for you and this bond wasn't easily severed on a whim.

Instinctively, you pulled the fabric of his cloak snuggly around your neck as if it would be enough to keep him at bay.

“I would have offered my body heat, if I had any left,” he said with a shrug, pulling one knee up against his chest.

Right.

Vampire.

No body heat unless he was well fed.

“Did I… say anything?”

The last thing you needed right now was for your subconscious to betray you by having you mumble out his name in a suggestive manner.

The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hard to make out anything intelligible in the midst of all the grunts and moans.”

“Good.”

Hold on… grunts and… moans?

“Oh please, don't look so horrified,” he said with a click of his tongue. “A much welcome distraction considering how tedious it's been in here.”

Typical.

A scowl settled on your face as you shifted across the mattress, pulling your knees up together and increasing the distance between you two.

The faint earthy and citrusy scent of bergamot enveloped you, and your eyes fluttered shut.

For someone who was bound to live in the shadows and prowl the streets after the sun went down, Astarion surely carried the fragrance that resembled Summer days the most.

You didn't feel cold even in this damp-filled cell.

It wasn't even related to the cloak itself, as it wasn't thick enough to make much of a difference.

No.

It was purely an unavoidable consequence of being near him.

Even in his icy coldness, Astarion brought out warmth that would put the most fierce of flames pale in comparison.

“What's on your mind?”

His purring voice snapped you from your thoughts, and you blinked the tiredness away, ignoring his question. “What time is it?”

“Judging from how the guards are way past the threshold of sobriety… my guess is that it's close to midday.”

You slowly dragged yourself up into a sitting position, heaving a deep sigh. “I just want to get out of here.”

“Well, we can.”

“Astarion.”

He turned his head to you. “What? You are a powerful sorcerer. They wouldn't stand a chance.”

It was a proper observation, and it surely wasn't an attempt at stroking your ego. He had seen enough of your abilities to know you could have metal melt if you so desired.

But still… “I'm sure Wyll will come soon.”

He let out a sound of pure discontent. “Yes. Your prince charming shall be here soon to save the day.”

You simply ignored him.

And Astarion hated being ignored.

So, naturally, he made sure he had your attention.

“I would just like to point out that–”

His voice died in your ears as the sound of steady paces echoed across the halls with salutes being exchanged.

You immediately lunged forward, leaving his cloak behind before pressing your face against the bars and gripping them tightly.

“Excuse me? I was talking to you.”

Astarion's outrage would have to be put on hold for the time being.

You recognised that voice and that level of respect mimicked by the guards outside.

“Wyll!”

Astarion joined your side in an instant, as the Grand Duke came into sight.

His face was heavy and he didn't bear a reassuring smile. It was such a foreign look on him, it gave you whiplash.

Your hopeful smile eventually dropped as he approached you.

“My friends, what an unfortunate turn of events.”

He placed one hand atop yours and you nodded eagerly. “Please. We are not guilty of whatever they are accusing us of.”

His young face eased slightly. “So you haven't committed any crime?”

“That's the general definition,” Astarion chimed him, visibly annoyed.

“Why am I not surprised you are involved in this?” Wyll retorted, but his words – unlike Astarion's – held no ill-intent.

“Oh, I thought you were aware that I'm the root of all evil in Baldur's Gate?” he said, voice dripping with cutthroat sarcasm. “Your psychic powers must be below par as of late, Wyll.”

You shot him a death glare, wanting nothing more than to cast Silence on him.

However, Wyll let out a loud and heartfelt laughter that had the other prisoners whine and rattle against the bars of their enclosure.

“Charming as always – even under such dire circumstances.”

Astarion's lips held the fakest smile ever. “Glad I could be of entertainment.”

“Especially considering that I'm most likely your only way out of this.” Wyll said in a tone that prickled the hair at the nape of your neck.

Great.

Astarion and his never-ending ability to annoy people beyond oblivion.

“Yes, I'm sure Circus of the Last Days is one clown short,” you said maliciously, side-eyeing him. “Maybe he'd prefer it over there.”

He dreaded clowns in a way that was almost comical, and your remark was enough to silence him at once, but not without having him shoot daggers with his intense stare.

Wyll cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on you. “Listen. I believe in your innocence, my friend.”

Your heart soared high.

“However…”

Ah, yes. There was always an inconvenient ‘however’ somewhere.

“I must look into this matter further, as the Council of Four demands. If it were solely up to me, I would have you out of here right now.”

Your heart plummeted to the ground at once.

“But it is up to you. You have the final word,” Astarion pointed out.

“Be it as it may, I cannot favour acquaintances when an alleged crime is committed.”

Astarion scoffed. “Demoting us from friends to acquaintances in under thirty seconds. My, my… and you worried I was the power-hungry one of the group.”

Wyll placed his hand on your shoulder and you glared intensely at him. “Give me a few hours, and I will see to it that you get out of here.”

He wasn't being deceitful in the slightest. Wyll's sense of righteousness and moral compass were nearly always fine tuned.

Besides, you had nothing to fear.

Justice was on your side.

But there was clearly someone out there who wasn't, and that made your skin crawl.

Which begged the question… “Why do you believe in our innocence? I mean… I was expecting an interrogation at the very least.”

He gave you a sincere smile of affection. “My dear friend, I know you well enough to doubt your words. This crime doesn't suit you. Besides, across those weeks together, I was able to find hope where there was none. You joined forces with the unlikeliest of allies and turned on potential ones to help us all out – to help Baldur's Gate.”

A looming sense of discomfort was brewing deep inside as his words hit you.

It wasn't so much that he was exaggerating or singing praises that you were undeserving of, but you would have never made it that far on your own.

Not without him.

Or even without Astarion.

“This city is indebted to you,” he went on, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I am sure this misunderstanding will be resolved soon, but I'm afraid protocols and bureaucracy must still be addressed properly.”

You reluctantly nodded, knowing deep down that he was right.

His position was one that came with great responsibility, and it would be folly of him to not act in accordance to what was expected of him as Grand Duke.

“If you wish, I could have you moved to an overground cell – just in case Astarion is being too overbearing,” he quickly added.

“No, no. I reckon I can withstand a few more hours in his presence before losing my sanity,” you chuckled at him.

“You do know I can hear you, don't you?” Astarion said with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

“I shall have some fruit sent over.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded and turned his head to Astarion. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“Yes, you can get me out of here.”

Wyll pursed his lips firmly together.

You hit with a ‘be nice’ scowl, which had him heave a deep sigh. “Alright, alright. I don't require any blood just yet. Our dear friend was kind enough to let me feed on her a few days ago.”

“Right.”

Wyll wasn't amused in the slightest and you couldn't blame him. It wasn't an ideal arrangement, and he was a monster hunter at heart, which only fueled his dislike for Astarion boasting about it.

With a final nod, he took his leave even as prisoners banged on the bars of their cells in a failed attempt at taunting him.

Once again, you pressed your forehead against the bars. “We're getting out of here soon.”

Astarion was leaning on his side against the door, eyeing you. “You know, darling… I do wonder if you're trying to convince me or yourself at this point.”

You didn't reply.

But it was probably both.

“So… who do you think got us into this mess?”

“Oh, I do so love guessing games,” he said, securing the cloak around him before sitting down on his mattress. “Well, I'm sure our list of foes didn't thin out even with the heroic display to save the city.”

Good point.

You took a hungry bite from an apple. “Hmm… it'd be less of a nuisance to just kill us, no?”

“If by ‘us’ you mean ‘you’, then sure. I don't die easily, as I know you're aware, darling.”

Another good point, even though a wooden stake might beg to differ.

“Maybe it really is just one big misunderstanding.”

“... but?”

You glared at him with furrowed brows. “But what?”

He shrugged. “Isn't there always a ‘but’?”

Your mind had begun to wander into other possibilities, each new one more alarming than the previous.

It was particularly daunting to wonder whether this Ava woman had had a hand in this.

Should you even bring it up to him? Maybe.

“Well?” He pressed, crimson eyes never leaving yours. “I know you have something on your mind, so feel free to share with the audience, darling.”

You hesitated at first, unsure it would be the wisest choice. He was clearly fond of her, but you just couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that she could be up to something.

Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

Maybe you were simply allowing your protective feelings over Astarion to get in the way and cloud your judgment.

Maybe she was nothing more than a mere courtesan and not some scheming criminal.

Besides… what reason would she have to frame both of you for this?

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded, so you chose to keep it to yourself.

“I'm inclined to believe we were set up, but I don't know by whom,” you eventually said, not intending on passing out accusations just yet.

His eyes narrowed. “You're not being truthful.”

Thrown for a loop, you blinked. “You think I'm lying?”

“I know you're lying.”

You gave him a sour glare. “I suppose it takes one to know one.”

He actually genuinely laughed at your remark. “Touché, my dear.”

One didn't easily win the title of charlatan over nothing, after all.

He'd spent decades honing his skill in the art of deception, which had you falling for his sweet lies so easily when you two first met.

Not wanting to go down that road, you shove the memory aside and focused on the apple in your hand instead.

Silence settled heavily around you, only broken by your occasional bites.

The door to the prison hall swung open all of a sudden, but neither of you shifted.

It was probably nightfall by now, and you had gotten used to the intrusive sounds that erupted from time to time.

Hurried steps caught your attention and you turned to find Wyll by the bars.

You scrambled out of bed as fast as a lightning bolt with Astarion following suit.

“You're getting out of here.”

An overwhelming wave of relief washed over you and you could nearly cry of joy.

“Finally. Took you long enough.” Astarion said.

Wyll's face dropped slightly. “It is not without compromise, I'm afraid.”

Oh.

It was to be expected, really…

“The council has agreed to further the investigations without the need of imprisonment, so long as you stay confined to your place for the time being,” he went on, as two Fists joined his side, carrying your belongings. “With two guards stationed outside at all times.”

“Essentially treating us like criminals, then,” Astarion scoffed, clearly put out.

“You are suspected of being criminals,” Wyll pointed out. “I am quite certain it will only be for a couple of days, so do not fret.”

It seemed like a fair deal and, at this point, you would give anything to get out of this prison.

“Wait – hold on. What do you mean ‘your place’?”

Wyll glared at him in confusion. “Aren't you staying with the rest of the group?”

“No?” He pulled out a face of disgust as if Wyll had just implied he had been offered to share an accommodation with a pack of stinky gnolls.

“I did invite him – more than once.”

“And I declined every single time.”

You rolled your eyes.

As much as you had earlier wished to part ways with Astarion after that heated argument, you were more than willing to move past that for the greater good.

“Well, now would be an opportune time to accept the invitation,” Wyll said, motioning for the guards to unlock the door. “You will be escorted back to your place and await further instructions.”

Grabbing your belongings, you hurried past the door to walk alongside Wyll while both guards flanked you.

“What about my clothes? I need a couple of changes, then,” Astarion inquired as he expertly fastened the dagger holsters around his thigh and waist. “I'm staying at The Blushing Mermaid.”

He did have an interesting set of priorities, given the current predicament…

“We will have someone fetch it for you.”

“Ask for a woman named Ava. She will know what to pack.”

Wyll nodded in silence.

You nearly scoffed, but managed to disguise it as a throaty cough, which earned Wyll's attention.

“I'm afraid these dungeons are riddled with dust and present less than ideal conditions, my friend.”

You cleared your throat with a faint remorseful smile, already feeling guilty for your deception.

The torch-lit tunnel extended as far as the eye could see, and it seemed like forever before you finally made it topside.

The barracks were buzzing with whispers and intense glares, with each Flaming Fist saluting the Grand Duke as he made his way through the building.

A quick glance through the window and you realised the sun had already set.

Convenient for Astarion.

Wyll's feet came to a halt before the closed shut and sturdy double door.

“I am terribly sorry that we had to meet again under such grim circumstances, but I trust this matter will be resolved soon.”

You gave him a warm smile of gratitude. “Thank you for this, Wyll. I'm sure you were met with resistance.”

He chuckled. “Quite the resistance, but I believe being power-hungry does hold its advantages, right, Astarion?”

“I suppose.”

There was not a single part of Wyll that was power-hungry. He had earned the title and his position within Baldur's Gate elite. No one was more deserving of it.

“A ‘thank you’ would suffice, but I'm guessing that's as close to it as I'll get,” Wyll said in amusement as Astarion frowned.

You gave him a fleeting hug, earning some disapproving glares – including from Astarion.

“Thank you, Wyll.”

“You are most welcome. We'll talk soon.”

Parting ways, you stepped into the night with both Flaming Fists following closely behind.

“Well, I'm glad that's been dealt with.” You said in an attempt to break the layer of silence.

“Hardly. I'm merely hopping from one prison to another,” he muttered bitterly. “But I suppose it could be worse.”

As you hurried along the busy city streets, you noticed the inquisitive glares from passers-by. After all, being escorted by two guards often meant trouble.

“Come to think of it, this is entirely your fault.”

Your head snapped at him. “What?”

He nodded. “If you hadn't cast Sleep, we wouldn't be in this situation to begin with.”

You scolwed. “Seriously, Astarion? You were about to gut him open!”

“It would have been a better fate than what he actually deserved,” he bit back. “But that damned swirly pink spell drew too much attention.”

You shouldn't have been surprised that he was lashing out, but it still annoyed you to no end that he refused to acknowledge his part in this.

“You have some nerve to pin this on me when you were the one causing a ruckus.”

He was glaring at you like you'd just grown a third arm. “Remind me again who yelled out as they were casting a spell.”

“I didn't yell–”

One of the guards behind you cleared his throat, effectively silencing you.

Arguing with Astarion was about as pointless as fighting the sun from rising. He always had to have the final word.

You sighed. “This is pointless.”

“Agreed.”

As your house came into view, you began to make out a couple of figures by the door.

Gale and Shadowheart.

You heard Astarion immediately scoff once you were close enough. “Please be quiet.”

Gale frowned slightly. “What? I didn't utter a single word.”

“Oh, I know. I'm just practicing this line for the future.”

Shadowheart intervened before the wizard could. “Wyll informed us of what happened. Are you well?”

You nodded. “Within reason.”

She embraced you tightly. “I am sure this will all be resolved soon.”

“A very bizarre event, no doubt,” Gale said, patting your back affectionately. “This city is crawling with the most vile of creatures, indeed.”

The three of you made your way inside, and a dramatic cough was heard.

You turned to see Astarion standing by the doorway, and then it dawned on you that he would need a literal verbal invitation in order to walk in.

“Oh! Right… sorry… you may come in, Astarion.”

He didn't need to be told twice, taking careful steps at first just in case.

Upon concluding it was safe to continue, he made his way into the kitchen area, taking in his surroundings in silence.

Lae'zel was nowhere to be found, and you reckoned she might have gone out to hunt in the surrounding Baldurian woods.

“Your belongings are upstairs, already,” Shadowheart informed him as she leaned against a wood pillar. “I wasn't sure how to make a vampire abode feel more homely in such short notice, so you'll have to excuse the lack of frivolous and decadent decoration.”

He waved a hand dismissively, heading towards the staircase. “No need to concern yourself with it, darling. I'm not staying for long.”

You watched him round the corner and disappear into the hall.

“Your room is to your left, Astarion,” you called after him.

His footsteps halted and you smiled in amusement.

“Ah – yes. I was merely taking a look,” he said, reappearing at the top of the staircase again with a disapproving look on his face. “I must say… awful and dull decoration. This has Gale written all over it.”

You reckoned having Astarion stay over would prove more of a challenge than you had initially anticipated.

Series Masterlist

Sharing a house with Astarion under such circumstances.... what could possibly go wrong 😌

Next chapter: Confrontation

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serverusslaype · 7 months

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The Yule Ball, pt. 1

Severus Snape x professor!reader

omg wow two posts in one day? who am i?

i also wanted to post this because i asked about it a while ago lmao, but i'm going to split it into two parts and finish the end of the second part tomorrow after work, it's mostly done, i just need to tidy it up hehe. this isn't very long, however, in part two, it gets good of course. pls don't hate me :( </3

i hope you are all doing well!! :)

warnings: slight harassment? ew, karkaroff

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was sparkling and lively as loud laughter and chatter filled the wintry and festively decorated room. Several large round tables were dotted around the sides of it, laden with beautiful white centrepieces and matching silver cutlery and glittering glassware. Long, blue-grey curtains adorned with artifical snow hung from the walls between the majestic and mythical stone statues, as if imitating frozen waterfalls. A warm and fuzzy feeling settled in your body as you glanced around the gorgeously decorated Hall, a small smile finding your cherry-red painted lips.

You sat alone at a table in a silky, backless, long-sleeved dress with only a goblet of wine for company as you watched students and teachers alike dance joyously on the floor to a melodious tune. You had to bite back an amused grin as your eyes caught sight of Hagrid's hand slipping down to Madame Maxine's rear. She quickly swatted it away, and you couldn't help but chuckle quietly to yourself. Ever since the international schools arrived at Hogwarts, Hagrid seemed to be smitten with the enormous witch, and you could see why. Madame Maxine was stunning and classy; always dressed in the finest attire you could ever imagine - and of course, always carried herself with elegance. You envied her slightly as you watched the pair sway sweetly together.

Speaking of the international schools, a certain Headmaster had taken a liking to you during their stay and Hogwarts, and it didn't please you at all. In fact, it made you rather uncomfortable. Well, he made you uncomfortable. You shivered slightly at the thought of Igor Karkaroff and lifted your goblet of wine to your lips, downing the rest of it carelessly. You'd been avoiding him all night, and you hoped you wouldn't have to speak to him for the rest of it.

As you placed the goblet back down, you glanced around, catching sight of Minerva stood to the right of Dumbledore and Snape who were currently observing the dancing students. Though you were looking at the older witch, your eyes were magnetically pulled to the wizard dressed in all black - surprisingly without his signature cloak.

Professor Snape.

You'd spoken to him a few times, but not many - he wasn't the most welcoming man you'd met. In fact, he was rather cold and short with you, which wasn't too unsurprising since he'd taught you back in the day when you attended Hogwarts as a student. So, you knew exactly what he was like. In those days, despite his harsh and cruel attitude towards you and your classmates, you developed a silly little crush on him. You weren't exactly sure why - perhaps it was the mysterious aura that he possessed, or his deep, sultry and silky voice he spoke with, or maybe it was just the plain simple fact that he was... attractive to you. Gods, your classmates would have disowned you, had you admitted such a thing.

Regardless of your history here, being the youngest professor here was a little intimidating to say the least, and the need to prove yourself was overwhelming. At times, you felt as if you didn't deserve your post as the professor of Astronomy - how could a twenty-something-year-old be qualified enough to teach students less than ten years their junior? Doubting yourself was bound to happen, especially in the presence of such talented, wise wizards like Dumbledore, Flitwick and McGonagall - Flitwick was a duelling champion, for goodness sake. And what were you? Merely infatuated with the nightsky and everything that possibly dwells beyond it? Merlin.

A deflated sigh swiftly fell from your lips as you quickly stood up from your seat, beginning to reluctantly head over in the direction of your fellow colleagues. It's not like you didn't want to stand with them, you just felt awfully out of place, and you didn't want to look weird by sitting all by your lonesome all night. Being the new person at the new job was never fun.

As you neared them, your eyes were drawn to the gloomy Potions Master again. As if he could sense someone watching him, his deep black eyes flicked to you, and you quickly glanced away with burning cheeks, walking forwards to stop beside Minerva. Maybe your crush never went away, and you winced slightly at the thought.

Turning to Minerva, she looked at you with happy eyes, a smile gracing her lips. "Y/N," Minerva beamed, her shoulders relaxing in a cheerful manner, "we'd wondered where you'd disappeared off to."

You hummed happily at her words, your stiff body relaxing slightly. McGonagall had been your favourite professor when you'd studied at Hogwarts, even though you didn't exactly excel in her class of Transfiguration. She never berated you for your lack of skill in the subject and that was probably what solidified your preference.

You looked at the witch beside you, though a silhouette of a prominent nose and a mop of black hair clouded your vision. "Just needed a sit down, really." You replied with a soft voice, smiling as you linked your fingers together in front of your waist. "Also, I fancied some more wine, it's rather moreish." Minerva and Dumbledore chuckled at your light-hearted joke, but Snape did not. You swallowed awkwardly.

"Perhaps it isn't wise to be drinking in the presence of students, Professor L/N." Snape drawled in a demeaning tone from beside Dumbledore, side-eyeing you.

"What makes you think I'm going to get drunk?" You frowned, his subtle dig at you twisting your insides. Crush or not, he was getting under your skin.

Snape snorted slightly, "A history of misbehaviour at Hogwarts doesn't bode well." He said, turning his head to face you. You fought the itching urge to roll your eyes at his words, remembering that one time you had pranked his class.

"That was one time, Snape." You sighed, fighting hard not to groan. Apparently, he wasn't going to let this go. "And it was years ago now."

"I wouldn't want to take any chances." He sneered at you, and your stomach twisted horribly. Did he really despise you that much? It hurt to say the least, you thought he would've put that in the past and moved on, but apparently grudges are the next best thing.

"Right." You huffed quietly, and Minerva cast an awkward glance to Dumbledore who also looked rather uncomfortable. Yes, this was a terrible idea coming to stand with your colleagues. A fucking terrible idea. Snape always had to make you look childish. Suddenly, you pathetically wished that Karkaroff would suddenly appear and bother you so you wouldn't have to deal with this awful interaction. Anything would be better than this right now.

As if on cue, someone called your name. "Would you excuse me?" You sighed, casting an apologetic smile towards Dumbledore and McGonagall, purposefully ignoring Snape. Dumbledore also excused himself, leaving only the Heads of Slythering and Gryffindor together.

As you and Dumbledore walked off, Minerva turned to Snape with scornful eyes. "You shouldn't be so harsh on her, Severus," she huffed, "she's not a child anymore. Y/N is an adult, capable of making adult decisions. There's no need for such hostility."

Snape didn't reply, he only sighed heavily at Minerva's comment, prompting the older witch to roll her eyes at his petty behaviour. Though, underneath his cold and dismissive attitude towards you, there was something else. Something he did not want to unfold, nor understand. It wasn't a familiar feeling, and that was what worried him. And so, each time you spoke to him or looked at him, he had chosen to push that feeling away by being malicious to you. Snape wasn't fond of it, and he did resent himself slightly by acting so horribly towards you. Something inside of him tugged at his heart each time your face fell due to his sharp words, or the way he'd glare at you whenever you looked at him. It was the only thing he knew. Snape wasn't familiar with nor welcoming to feelings other than hatred or disdain.

The Potions Master cast his eyes over the crowds of students, absent-mindedly looking for your small figure. It's not like he wanted to check on you, he just wanted to see who had called for you, out of... curiosity. And there you were, chatting with the Weasley twins. Snape couldn't remember your exact age, but he was sure you were mid-twenties, perhaps early-twenties. Your youthful face and essence said so. As he observed you, his chest burned unusually as you laughed at something the twins had said, and it burned even hotter when he saw them hand you something. What were they doing?

"It's just a little something," Fred grinned goofily in his tuxedo as you held a small, neatly-wrapped box in your hands. It was a pale red, with a shining green bow. You looked up at them and smiled gratefully.

"Yeah, we just wanted to say thanks for being a brilliant teacher," George added after his brother, making you grin amused. The two of them always made you laugh in your classes, it was like they were the same person from how well they bounced off of each other.

"Oh, thank you, boys," you grinned, a little shocked at their kindness, "you didn't need to get me anything." Both Fred and George grinned together, their fluffy ginger hair bouncing a tad as they glanced at each other.

"You're our favourite, you know," George said, and Fred nodded with him, beaming. You chuckled at their silly smiles.

"Yeah, you're a thousand times better than any of the other professors," Fred agreed cheerfully, folding his arms against his chest.

"Especially Snape-" George interjected. Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, he's a right old miserable git, he is." Fred grumbled, nodding behind you. "He's staring right at us, too." Your stomach dropped the second Fred said those words, and you quickly whipped your head around, your eyes meeting with Snape's own fierce ones. As quickly as you looked at him, you turned back around, your face becoming hot and pink.

"Are you blushing, professor?" George grinned wickedly, glancing at his brother who also shared that same expression.

"No!" You answered quickly, gasping.

"Don't tell me you like that horrible arse," Fred laughed, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

"I wouldn't have expected you to fancy a Slytherin like him." George frowned, his nose turning up in slight disgust. "I mean, he hates everything and everyone, why would you-"

"I never even said I liked him! You two just assumed so!" You scoffed, folding your arms against your chest. The twins laughed at your reaction, glancing at each other. "Anyway, boys, thank you for the gift, but this conversation is over." Another hefty sigh fell from your lips as you looked between the two of them, smiling politely.

"Professor L/N," A raspy, deep voice came from behind you, and instantly, your blood went cold. You knew that thick accent very well. Fred and George Weasley looked like they were on the verge of busting out laughing. They knew of your dislike for the Durmstrang Headmaster, and you were sure that the majority of the school knew of his weird, little thing for you.

"Headmaster Karkaroff." You turned around hesitantly, fighting back a scream of utter frustration. He looked a little more groomed than usual - his messy, dark brown hair with specks of gray in it was brushed through, and his long goatee had been neatly manipulated into a sharp point. You were also surprised to see him dressed in such expensive looking clothing. The dress coat he sported was a creamy-beige, adorned with a shining black leather belt around his middle, accentuating his lanky figure.

"You look like you need a dance," The corners of his lips turned upwards into a mischievous smirk, and an uncomfortable shiver ran down your spine. "May I help with that?" Karkaroff held out his hand, and your eyes shot down towards it.

"Erm," you stuttered, "well-" You couldn't find the words at all, and it wasn't helping that you could hear the twins behind you snickering to themselves. Before you could even answer, Karkaroff had his hand grasping yours and tugging you to the dancefloor. You stumbled slightly at how fast he had pulled you, and with your other hand, you reached down to grab your skirt to hike it up so you wouldn't trip over.

As the pair of you reached the floor after winding through hoards of dancing students, Karkaroff spun you around a little too quickly, and you ungracefully fell into his chest with a squeak. "Sorry," you mumbled, using a hand to push yourself away from him, "I wasn't really expecting you to do... that."

"You know," Igor chuckled, ignoring your previous comments, "I've been waiting for this moment ever since I arrived here at Hogwarts." He admitted with a wicked smirk, allowing his rough, bony fingers to slide down your bare back, gripping you a little too tightly for your liking.

"...To dance?" You frowned, using your free hand to fidget with his hand that laid flat against your bare back, silently telling him to ease off a little. "Don't be silly." You chuckled awkwardly, casting a glance over to where you had previously stood with the other teachers as you and Karkaroff swayed. Only Snape remained, and your face grew as hot as a firepit as you noticed his eyes were already stuck on you. His face was the usual unhappy, scornful, sour frown.

"Oh, but I am not being silly, little bird." Igor murmured, pushing his face closer to yours. Instinctively, you pulled your head away from his, scrunching your nose up at the awful pet name.

"Little bird?" You repeated, almost choking the words out. You squirmed within his uncomfy grip, casting another glance to Snape, hoping that he'd have just an ounce of human decency to realise that you were asking for help. Surely, he wouldn't be that much of an arsehole to ignore the sign of a colleague in trouble.

"Yes," Igor smiled, making your skin crawl. "You remind me of a little bird - tiny, beautiful..." Your eyes widened at his words, and again, you glanced to where you had seen Snape. Your heart dropped like a rock as you noticed the empty space where he had previously stood. You knew he was a dick, but not so much of a dick to let you get taken hostage by a man you hardly knew - and didn't want to know. "So beautiful... why don't we ditch this party and head back to my quarters? I could show you around." Karkaroff muttered and pulled you even closer, grinning lecherously as he brushed his nose against the crook of your neck. Your breath hitched - but not in a good way.

"Igor..." Your voice was shaky, yet low, indicating that you weren't comfortable at all.

"How about we go somewhere more private?" Karkaroff's hands tightened even more as they slipped down to your hips, pulling your body flush against his. A quiet gasp left your lips as you pressed your palms flat against his chest, attempting to push him off of you. Your eyes flicked to where Snape once stood again, but he was no-where to be seen.

"Something caught your eye, pilentse?" Karkaroff hummed lowly, his eyes narrowing, evidently upset that your attention is busied with something or someone else.

"No." You quickly replied - almost too quickly. "I just need a refreshment, do you mind?" You forced yourself to glance up at Karkaroff's intense, wrinkled eyes.

"Oh, no, that can wait. I've waited almost the whole night for this moment..." Igor grumbled with a sneer as his grip on you became deeper and a little tighter, as if to say you weren't leaving until he deemed it so. That was until you saw that same sneer fall from his face, replaced with what looked like fear. Instantly, your brows furrowed together into a confused frown as you noticed his eyes dart from yours to something behind you, and so you turned around, curious to see why Karkaroff looked like he was about to flee.

"Karkaroff." Snape's deep, almost threatening voice reached your ears, and immediately, your mouth went dry as your heart leaped up into it. So... he did notice you? A rush of relief filled your body and your shoulders relaxed a tad. Snape glanced down at you, his thick mop of black hair framing his pale face. The blue-white light from above highlighted his prominent, handsome features perfectly, and you felt a sense of warmth prickle your skin, pooling in your stomach. You looked away, certain that if you kept staring, he'd assume you were weird or something along those lines.

Igor swallowed thickly, his bony fingers digging into the skin of your back in fear. You winced slightly at the sharp prod, catching Snape's attention. His eyes darted down to where Karkaroff had an iron-grip on you, and his lip twitched into the beginning of a sneer as he looked back to Igor's worried eyes. "Snape," The Durmstrang Headmaster greeted the gloomy Potions Master, clearly a little afraid of him. Apparently everyone was fearful of Snape, except for a select few, you realised. "What can I help you with?" Karkaroff's thick accent had slipped slightly, his voice wavering. You had to stifle a laugh at that - how was a man like Igor Karkaroff afraid of Snape? There was definitely something that you were missing here.

"Professor L/N," Snape ignored Karkaroff and shifted his bored expression to you, though you didn't miss the venomous look that he'd shot at the Bulgarian. You were still in disbelief that Snape had answered your silent cries for help, let alone actually come to save you from Karkaroff's slimy grasp. "I believe we have some important matters to tend to." Snape said matter-of-factly, arching a brow at you expectantly.

"Wait, what?-" You choked out with wide eyes. You'd been staring a little too hard at Snape, and so you stumbled over your words, unprepared. "Oh, right, yeah- the, erm, the... valerian root." You finished, turning a bright shade of red as Snape's brows furrowed at you in a judgemental fashion, as if to say 'seriously?'.

"Yes," Snape drawled, dragging his disappointed eyes from you to Karkaroff. You huffed quietly, embarrassed. "The valerian root." The Potion Master repeated, shooting you a glare. He held out his hand for you to take, and you reached out to grasp a hold of it, when you were suddenly tugged backwards by Karkaroff. Snape's narrowed eyes darted to the Headmaster's hand wrapped securely around your waist, his nostrils flaring in slight anger. This old, despicable man had no business holding a young witch like you in such a manner.

"That can wait, surely?" Karkaroff said, his voice low as he tucked you closer to his side. You shot a desperate glance to Snape, begging him to help you again. A frustrated breath shot out of his nostrils.

"Tragically, no." Snape quipped sarcastically, his dark eyes piercing a burning hole through Karkaroff. Snape looked furious - his body was rigid. He hadn't moved a muscle apart from his eyes to look at either you or Igor. "Professor?" He glanced to you, stretching his hand to you once more, and you took it happily, allowing him to pull you out of Karkaroff's slimy hands and to his safe side. Your cheeks flushed pink at the closeness between you two, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Snape shifted his hand to sit on the small of your back, guiding you away from Karkaroff.

Part 2! (wip) Masterpost

there is part 1, i hope you enjoyed it, and i hope it was sort of what you expected! i can't remember what i said i was going to do but this is what i came up with hehe. i'm always a sucker for jealousy.

let me know if you liked it/what you thought, i do apologise that it was kinda short, but it'll be finished tomorrow! <3

i hope you're all well! :)

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popatochisssp · 6 months

Note

The Court AU has me DEAD!!! If you’d be willing, what sort of outfits would they wear? I’d love to draw them!

Anon, I had so many tabs open looking up medieval-type fashion and armor, we're talking like 30+, felt super awesome finishing this and closing them all 😌

Anyway--

Sans (Undertale): What’s black and blue and white all over? Why, him of course! His jester’s motley features a black-and-white diamond pattern, offset by bright, rich, royal blue—a mark of his service to the king. He doesn’t wear one of those silly hats, though…because he wears a silly hood instead! Less chance of falling off, you see. When not in costume he tends toward simple tunics, of decent material and often still in blue.

Papyrus (Undertale): Almost never out of full plate armor, even in downtime, he has to dress for the job he wants and that means being a shining metal bastion of knightly glory at all times! …Though he does often remove his helmet and hold it by his sword at his hip, or fasten it to his steed’s side. He’s a very handsome skeleton, it would be cruel to deny the people the chance to see their hero’s face!

Sky (Underswap Sans): Soft blues and yellows, as a squire only lightly armored—greaves and pauldrons, a mail shirt beneath his tunic if he’s expected to go into battle—but he considers even that much armoring to be overkill for what he’s doing. Still, his Captain insists, and it makes his brother feel better, so he takes care protecting himself. He has some nicer finery to wear about court, as a nobleman, but tends simpler for anything that might be dirtied or torn in training.

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): Rich green and earthy browns, his clothing tends to be without ostentation—no embroidery, no gold buckles or buttons, or anything especially elaborate. He may be noble but he’s a scholar and a recluse and prefers not to stand out much. Still, the fabrics of which his clothing is made are always fine, as coarse or stiff materials quite put him off. Mostly cottes—long belted tunics—with the occasional robe over, if it's cold.

Jasper (Underfell Sans): Blacks and browns, sturdy plain clothes which can stand up to considerable wear and tear. Often wears a short diamond-quilted gambeson and some leather armor (vambraces and greaves), but always has a sword belted to his hip and a cloak made of dire-wolf’s fur draped over his shoulders. If ever he should need to acknowledge his denounced family name, he does have some finer clothing stored away somewhere—in red—and a shiny gold signet ring with his family crest on it.

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): Usually in half plate armor, dark metal heavily scratched and scorched, dents meticulously hammered back out. He also wears a tattered red cape about his shoulders that billows quite majestically behind him when he rides or runs into battle. He will occasionally dress down in laced tunics and breeches, still in red and black, fine but not too fine as to raise suspicion about his heritage. Should all that ever come out, he does have a suit of pristine night-black armor he’s been dying to inherit and a silken cape to pin about it with a golden clasp of the family’s crest.

Mal (Swapfell Sans): Mostly black but flaunts his privilege and royal ties with purple accents wherever possible. Brigandine armor with a fine gold-plated gorget and pauldrons and a few other ornamental trappings—he is the Empress’ personal guard and must in some capacity be as elegant. Very fine doublets and tunics for his (rare) downtime, often with gold threading, but not fond of most jewelries.

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): Dark colors and crisp whites, noble yet eccentric, he has a lot of fine doublets and other such court-wear but tends not to actually…wear them. He can mostly be found in loose-fitting cottes, baggy sleeves often penned up by leather armlets to keep them out of his paints. He has a fur-hooded cloak for travel or cold weather, but he rarely leaves his rooms, much less the castle, so he doesn’t don it often.

Slate (Horrortale Sans): Dark browns and off-white cream, simple rough-hewn clothing showing signs of wear and occasionally odd stains. He works in the stables, with animals, and being around animals so much makes it difficult to keep clean. He has a somewhat decent dark blue cloak that he’ll wear into town for errands, or in polite company—it has a hood to conceal the great jagged hole in his head that tends to make the squeamish or timid flinch away from him.

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): Still hasn’t quite shaken the habit to be armored, even when it isn’t necessary, but he’s cut down from full plate to chain mail only, much lighter and easier to move around in—which is vital when hurrying to the training field for an accident, or running to meet a wounded knight at the gates. He wears a simple tabard over his mail, blue with red edging (the Queen’s colors), and keeps a pouch of bandages and other aid supplies belted to his waist instead of a sword.

Ash (Undergloom Sans): The livery of the king’s court, gray and gold, but dyed into fabrics suitable for common folk. He still wears gray when not performing at court, tunics so thickly woven they could pass as a gambeson and often paired with hooded cloaks, but he keeps his golds set aside until needed to keep them in good condition. He takes equal care of his shiny brass sackbut (it’s a horn, with a very funny name but an instrument nonetheless) so it always plays well.

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus): Off-white and tan linens, loose and breathable for hot work in the kitchens, sleeves rolled up and pinned at the elbows to keep them from getting in the way. Always an apron about his waist, occasionally with food stains after a long day’s work but these he quickly tends to as soon as he’s able. He has nothing in the way of real finery but tries very hard to make sure what he has is clean and presentable.

Brick (Horrorfell Sans): Fine brocaded doublets of rich red and shining gold thread, as a duke and brother to a king, he does have to dress the part a bit. He wears more jewelry, especially rings, but nearly always still has his dire-wolf fur cloak over his shoulders. When called for executions, he dresses down quite a bit, in simple black cloth with only a leather pauldron over one shoulder to help brace the weight of his axe before he swings.

King (Horrorfell Papyrus): Half plate armor essentially at all times, even formal or polite occasions—he’s the owner of a stolen throne and all too aware that it could be stolen from him the same way he got it. His breastplate is scaled and his pauldrons are elaborately spiked, but it’s all black. The only pop of color on him is his crown, the same worn by Asgore and Undyne, gold and sharp, with rubies inlaid.

Merc (Horrorswap Sans): Chain mail over a finely-made kaftan and beneath a traveling cloak, the latter two with signs of wear from a long journey. His head is notably absent of a crown—left behind in the kingdom he fled—but a new one awaits him soon, of flashing silver and blue stone, depicting the phases of the moon. When fully established in his new kingdom, he may begin dressing as a proper king again, draping himself in the blue and silver finery of the land that sheltered him.

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus): Browns, greens, and blacks, he wears light leather armor—really just a breastplate and vambraces—and a thick woolen cloak about his shoulders. He has no need of greaves for his shins, legs lost to an accident in the wilderness, but supplanted by magical prosthetics, living blackened wood provided by his land when he called upon it for aid. …Not that he’s fully accepted that it’s his land, keeping his crown of twisting copper and emerald tucked away in a saddlebag instead of on his brow. Maybe someday…

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans): Rich purple and verdant green, amidst a sea of black—he favors very fine fabrics with open lacing at the chest. Still not especially fond of jewelry, but wears considerably more decorative leather braces on forearms, shins, and even the occasional full-chest corset. (He has some chronic pain and the extra pressure and support in certain spots helps.) He wears considerably more plain clothes for knight-training purposes and when traveling wears a black cloak with a cowl that comes down over the hole in his face at a point, as the beak of a raven.

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus): Usually in half plate splint mail armor for his patrols along the wall, but favors rusty oranges, brown and black for the tunics and boots and breeches he wears out of it. Often carries a lantern, and always has tinder in a pouch on his hip. Beside his pouch is a war-horn in case an alert would need to be called, loud enough to make everyone come running if it’s ever sounded.

Sunny (Gastertale Sans): A cavalierly styled courtier, at first having made do with graciously lent clothing and now being able to buy his own in a whole variety of rich colors—yellow, blue, magenta, and on. His aim is to look at home in court, which means he must dress as other courtiers do, so he has doublets and fine tunics and many, many fashionable capelets with embroidery and stylish pins, as well as a few equally chic plumed hats. The other courtiers look to him now for the latest fashion trends and he couldn’t be happier.

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus): A bit more subdued in style than his brother…though only a bit. He favors black frocks, almost as a cleric would wear, but beneath them, elegant doublets in greens and yellows as vibrant as anything his twin wears, with fine silver filigree work in his buckles and pins and clasps. He’s the pinnacle of restrained class and taste and it’s no wonder at all that the king should respect him so highly if his care in thought is as his care in appearance.

Spectr (Transcendtale Sans): Deep, dark black from head to toe, most prominently a long hooded cloak with two eye-lights glowing in the darkness. He always wears gloves and never lets his hood down, as he’s not especially fond of his metal bones and doesn’t really wish to be seen. It’s difficult to see in the daytime, but at night he’s trailed by faint wisps of ghostly light in all colors of the rainbow, such a strange sight that many a drunkard who’s seen him has poured out their bottle presuming they’d had quite a bit too much.

PapAIrus (Transcendtale Papyrus): Full plate armor, of course, but as he’s now some sort of spectral entity, it (and he!) glows and is slightly see-through. Being ghostly has washed out his colors quite thoroughly which is unfortunate—mostly all white with hints of silvery blue—but on the up-side he seems able to change his appearance some by will alone, donning or discarding his helmet at will, manifesting a majestic cape for himself out of the ether, and so on. It seems a fair enough trade to him!

Xanth (Ascendswap Sans): A man at court now, he’s donned an eye-patch and abandoned the trappings of prospective knighthood, fully embraced courtier fashion…if a bit ‘eccentrically.’ He favors bright yellows and spring greens, flowing garments of fine cloth layered beneath and over leather vambraces, gorget, and tasset. All these are elaborately, intricately designed and certainly make the similarly intricate gold jewelry (with multicolored gems) that he wears at wrist and neck stand out, but it’s hardly in fashion… Still, the mystic’s thinking is often inscrutable.

Piper (Ascendswap Papyrus): Unlike his brother, very fashionable and eye-catching, in rich amaranths and brilliant turquoises, with even the occasional lavender. He has many fine embroidered doublets, threaded liberally with gold, and wears many pieces of gold jewelry as well—necklaces, bracelets, pins, and brooches. When showing the birds of the crown at court or bidding them on a royal hunt, he wears the livery of the crown-proper—royal purple and gold—and always has a thick leather falconer’s glove on his left hand.

Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans): What’s black and white and red all over? Well, newspapers haven’t been invented yet, so it’s him, of course! He’s no jester so he hasn’t a motley to wear to work, but he is a performer and does dress in the livery of the king, which is red and black. The material is a bit finer than he’s used to, but being that he’s no longer wearing rags and rotting in a hole, he’s quite pleased with it and doesn’t mind the bright colors that help him attract the eyes of many comely nobles at court. Off-duty, he sticks to loose, somewhat open tunics—red still very much preferred.

Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus): Laced linen shirts, not especially loosely fitting due to his largeness in the chest and shoulders but he hasn’t burst any seams in awhile so the measurements must be somewhat correct. He’s fond of white and a true connoisseur of red, all shades from dark to very light. He keeps an array of small carpentry tools—hammers, chisels, things for measuring—in a roll on his hip, a dedicated apprentice to the core.

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans): All black, pourpoint armor beneath fine silk doublets but almost disappointingly plain otherwise—no embroidery, no ornament, or stitched pattern, or brocade. Over this he wears a cloak, equally fine and with at least some ostentation, a bit of silver stitched decoration that matches the intimidatingly clawed silver gauntlet he wears upon his left hand—a symbol of his wealth, if not his status. These flashy items are for matters of court only, as he has a much more nondescript hooded cloak and less identifiable sharp implement which he uses for matters of stealth and misdeeds when it is important that he not be recognized.

Hunter (Swapfell Frution Papyrus): A prince in princely attire…mostly. He happily flaunts the color purple but proudly wears it with the black of his old family name, and drapes himself in silk tunics, fine (mostly decorative) pauldrons, capes and capelets. He tends to show off a bit more of his chest than seems appropriate for a man of his station, and seems to wear his elegant silver jewelry in ways such that the eye is drawn there, and…other places, but few question the whims of royalty. His pewter crown is heavy and inelegant and he’s talked much with his brother about how angry people would be if he had it melted and recast into something more stylish.

Kohl (Descendtale Sans): Plain, rough tunics, in black and dark brown. He wears a heavy fur-lined gabardine as it gets quite cold in the dungeons, though it’s uncertain where he managed to get such a nice garment. He keeps a knife on his belt, large and jagged-toothed, and though he hasn’t had need to use it yet, the threat of it tends to keep most prisoners from attempting to bring him harm.

Bram (Descendtale Papyrus): He’s traded in his full plate armor for a comfortably fit leather jerkin, accompanied by matching gauntlets to protect his hands and torso (inasmuch as they need protection, without flesh) from the thorns he trims back every day. He mostly wears black and white and brown, all things closely fit to his body, less they snag overmuch and need to be replaced too often. His clothing is simple but well-suited to his work, and he wears it nicely.

#anonymous #headcanons #court au #undertale #underswap #underfell #swapfell/fellswap #horrortale #undergloom #horrorfell #horrorswap #horrorswapfell #gastertale #transcendtale #ascendswap #underfell fruition #swapfell fruition #descendtale

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airas-story · 1 month

Note

since you asked for prompts: ironstrange within a winged!universe?

Stephen stared at the picture of Tony from before Afghanistan. He looked majestic with his dark wings flared behind him. Tony was only a few inches shorter than Stephen, but without wings he’d always felt… smaller.

Stephen traced the outline of the wings. The feathers would have been soft, well cared for. Tony would have had quality wing-care product.

Would Tony have let Stephen touch? Let him preen those golden-brown feathers with all the intimacy that required?

Tony had never touched Stephen’s wings. Stephen longed for it but didn’t know how to ask.

“Looking at my golden age?”

Stephen startled at Tony’s voice. He flinched back from the computer screen and turned. Tony leaned against the doorframe, watching him.

Tony’s eyes were the same color as the wings in the picture, rich brown with undertones of gold. Beautiful.

“Sorry. I…” didn’t have a good excuse.

“It’s fine,” Tony said. “I get that I’m a rarity.”

It was no excuse. Stephen had worked in a hospital, he’d had exposure to those who had, for one reason or another, lost their wings. He knew how painful a subject it could be. After his accident there had been concern that his own wings would need amputation. They’d healed, but even now Stephen’s left wing hurt with too much exertion. The cloak had kept him in the air more than once when the pain got bad.

“Do you miss them?” The question slipped out without permission.

“Sometimes.” Tony tapped the arc reactor. “I don’t let it keep me down.” It made light of the situation, but it had been a sensitive question. Tony’s gaze ran over Stephen’s tucked wings. Understanding flickered in his eyes. “You have beautiful wings, Stephen. They could use a good preen, though.”

Stephen’s heart jumped at the implied offer.

“Please.”

#triple drabble #ironstrange #stephen strange #tony stark #prompt fill #fic

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doukeshi-kun · 1 year

Text

𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙙

notes ⨳ i very much like this hehe. i thought i made this cute but it turns sad somehow at the end??? fine whatever. maybe i'd do more fluffy version :3 (edit : i actually have some aggressive feral mood for nikolai right now rarf)

contents ⨳ fluff, gn!reader

Nikolai seemed too tired today. He just got back from his business and he left the house in the early morning. It was apparent when he came home and gave you a short kiss on your cheek before entering your shared bedroom.

You did not want to bother him so much but you did feel like you should at least bring something to ease his exhaustion even a bit. So you made two cups of milk coffee. One for you and another for him — he liked it slightly sweeter.

“Darling?” you entered the room and you saw Nikolai sitting on the bed with his hand on his phone. His vest and cloak had been discarded and his shirt was half-unbuttoned. Nikolai looked distraught but he did look up to you as you approached him.

“Rough day?” you asked softly, putting the cups on the drawer. Nikolai sighed but he gave you a reassuring smile as he gently pulled you by the waist to stand in between his legs.

“You know how it is...” he replied before he hugged you, smooching your tummy. You smiled as your hand caressed his hair. “Shits happened and I found it hard to do certain things...” he mumbled before his hold on you loosened.

“It's okay, Kolya... Get some rest for tonight, okay? But first, you need to clean up. Your hair and face have some dried smudges.” you trailed your hands to his shirt, unbuttoning it fully before you helped him to discard the shirt off his body.

“.... I'm glad you're here, love,” Nikolai murmured, lost in thought. You chuckled.

“I only have you to care about, dove,” you replied before you put his shirt on the discarded cloak. You noticed some unusual red on it but you decided to not say anything.

You traced his hand to his hair, fingers daintily touching his braid. And your fingertips moved down to his cute red pompom. You eyed the braid — he was always beautiful with it. And he looked very much free and majestic when he let his hair down. Nikolai loved to have you braiding his hair but never undoing it.

“May I undo your braid?”

He held your wrist and slowly retracted your hand away. Instead, he kissed your hand. Mismatched eyes glanced up at you as he shook his head.

“No, love. Maybe not yet... Not now.”

His thumb rubbed your ring finger, giving you a solemn smile.

“When the time is right, love... When the time is up for us.”

©doukeshi-kun 2022 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

#道化師-jest❃ུ۪ #nikolai x reader #bsd x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai imagines #bsd imagines #bsd fluff #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader

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wordbreaker · 4 months

Text

The Taming of the Dragon, 2 ✷ Aemond Targaryen

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen / F!OC

SUMMARY: One evening, Aemong, in dire need of clearing his head, catches a Dragonkeeper on the beach tending to Vhagar. The Queen of Dragons doesn't seem bothered by the stranger's presence. Quite the opposite. Aemond is immediately intrigued. Even more so when he discovers that the stranger is a girl who comes from the North and bears the name Snow.

-ˋˏ previous chapter ✶ following chapter ✶ ao3 ✶ my inbox ˎˊ-

Lucella Snow had done her utmost to avoid the beach in the last days, for fear of finding Vhagar and her rider there. It had only taken one encounter. One encounter to remind Lucella why she had gone to such lengths to avoid Aemond Targaryen for two years.

The rumours that one’s ears picked up on the fly in taverns were true—the man was nothing but condescension and cruelty.

Lucella had taken care to establish a precise and safe routine, only approaching Vhagar when night had fallen and the dragon was enjoying a well-earned rest. Apart from a few rare occasions, the prince only took her flying during daytime. Her age forced him to control his whims. Dragons like Sunfyre or Dreamfyre were bursting with energy and could fly fast and long without tiring but the golden age of Aegon I's conquest was long gone. Centuries had passed and Vhagar had felt the effects.

It took nothing away from her greatness, but this reality—which many preferred to deny—showed that no matter how beautiful and majestic they might be, dragons too had to obey the harsh laws of nature—nothing could last forever.

Knowing this had prompted Lucella to don her armour and boots this morning. Duty had won out over fear. She hadn't even lasted two days and cursed against her lack of backbone.

Vhagar needed her and that outweighed everything else.

The sun blinded Lucella. It had already warmed the sand by the time she reached the yellow dunes. Now that the prince had caught her, Lucella saw no reason to come at night. She just hoped it wouldn't upset Vhagar. An old lady like her didn't react well to big changes.

Mealtimes would remain fixed for the same reason—three hours after sunset. The more thankless tasks, however, would no longer be hidden by the night’s thick and dark cloak but warmed by the gentle rays of the sun. This would be just as pleasant for Vhagar as it would be for Lucella, who, if she was honest, was beginning to feel the chill of the midnight wind. It didn’t take long to grow accustomed to the warm sun of the South, even for someone named Snow.

She finally caught sight of Vhagar. A smile lit up her face. Lucella would never tire of seeing her. The dragon was the last vestige of their history, a relic of war and a living reminder of a past that was no more. As majestic as she was frightening, her roars gave Lucella goosebumps.

The girl was relieved to see that the beast was alone. No princely rider to nag in her ears and complicate her already intense work.

Aemond Targaryen lacked a good education. It was obvious in the way he treated others and the way he held himself—straight, chin up, eyes fixed. Everything about him reeked of smugness. Coming out of a royal vagina—only by marriage, mind you—didn't give him the right to be so detestable.

“Rytsas, Vhagar.”

The greeting rolled naturally off her tongue. The dragon blew a puff of air in response, sending a few strands of Lucella’s hair flying with the hot gust.

Like all the other Dragonkeepers, Lucella had had to learn High Valyrian to communicate with the beasts. While her colleagues were content with only learning the commands needed to control the dragons, Lucella fell in love with the sounds, so different from their Common Tongue, and set out to learn more. The story of Old Valyria was simply fascinating. She understood why, even after its disappearance, families like the Targaryens and the Velaryons prided themselves so much in their origins. They were the heirs to a civilisation whose destruction had only strengthened the mystery surrounding it.

Lucella couldn't read complex books in the language yet, but one day she would, she was sure of it. The girl was nothing if not stubborn.

She let her bag crash to the ground. Vhagar lifted her neck to sniff at it, probably looking for her meal. She had come to associate Lucella with “food”, which worried the keeper, who had no particular desire to end up as dragon food.

Although she and Vhagar had developed a rather symbiotic relationship, the latter was still a wild animal, dictated by her instincts and desires. If she ever decided that Lucella was her enemy, the keeper would end up in her mouth or burnt to a crisp with no remorse.

“Be patient. You'll get to eat tonight.”

Instead of a carcass—which would never have fit in her bag anyway—Lucella pulled a dagger from her bag and advanced towards the dragon, who had gone back to sleep, having found nothing of interest among the leather.

Lucella brushed her fingertips across Vhagar's scales until she was close to her ribs. She brought the dagger close to the hard skin and began to scratch between the scales. All sorts of things piled up there, from crustaceans to piles of dry earth. They soiled her coat and ruined the magnificent green that characterised it—an abominable sight for Lucella, who couldn't imagine the Queen of Dragons being tarnished in any way.

The keepers back in the Dragonpit didn't bother with such elaborate tasks. They had never understood her love for Vhagar. Too weird. Too dangerous. They kept their judgment to themselves, but Lucella wasn't stupid. She could see it in their eyes, that damned scepticism. It was easy enough for her to perceive the question that adorned all their thoughts: why? Why bother when other dragons, much more docile, much calmer, lived and breathed?

Lucella didn't even know if her companions tolerated the dragons they bred and raised. It was not unusual to overhear conversations in which they railed against the Targaryens and their mounts. While she understood the hostility towards the royal family, nothing could explain their animosity towards these beasts.

According to Lucella, this hatred was totally unjustified. Yes, many had fallen victim to the dance of flames spurting from their breath. Yes, their fangs could devour anything, even a human, in just one bite. But dragons were still animals, a fact her colleagues tended to forget.

There existed no justification in the world for cruelty towards them, no matter what they looked like. Every animal deserved to be treated with respect and love, especially a dragon.

Lucella scratched another scale. A hermit crab had taken refuge in the joint of her wing. With the tip of her blade, she dislodged it and placed it on the ground. It fled and disappeared behind the dunes.

Seeing this reminded her why Lucella bent over backwards to make the dragon as comfortable as possible. She couldn't possibly leave Vhagar like that. Just the thought of crustaceans and other small animals with too many legs crawling over her own body made her shiver. Lucella had no scales to protect her, but she thought that even with this natural armour, the sensation must not have been pleasant at all.

Vhagar suddenly tensed. Lucella was trying to scrape off a particularly tough clump of dirt, but the place— between her protruding ribs, right on a fading scar—made it a delicate operation. She rested her hand and cheek against the dragon’s side.

“'s all right,” she said. “Shh... Lykirī... Calm down.”

The dragon didn't do so until Lucella had scratched the last barnacle. Filthy little beasts. They always found a way to cling on. She had lost count of the number she removed each week. Lucella went round the gigantic body, taking care not to turn her back on the beast, and started to scrap the right side. Throughout the operation, she kept reassuring Vhagar, either in High Valyrian or in the Common Tongue. The language didn't really matter. Dragons focused on one’s intentions, not one’s words.

“Are you the only one to come here? Were no others available?”

Lucella gasped when she heard the curt voice. It cracked in the air like a whip.

So preoccupied with her task, she hadn't even heard him arrive. He was staring at her with a blasé eye, his arms crossed, and his leather coat pulled tight.

Lucella cursed under her breath for paying so little attention to her surroundings. Vhagar had this terrible habit of hypnotising her. The dragon captured all her attention and made her fall into an infinite well of admiration and affection.

“Vhagar killed a keepah three months ago.”

The prince raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by this information. Lucella was as surprised by his reaction. He must have heard about it. He should have. She was his dragon, after all. A rider must know such things.

Lucella knew Vhagar to be dangerous and impulsive, but she did not know her to be cruel. There had been no motive for the keeper’s death. Vhagar had been fed, washed, and hydrated earlier in the day. Nothing could have predicted the attack. The dragon had burnt flesh and bone, leaving nothing but a mountain of black ashes for the sheer pleasure of it. There was no question of instinct or nature. Vhagar had revelled in his screams and would no doubt have feasted on his flesh had other guards not interfered.

Lucella remembered the screams, Vhagar deaf to their orders, the smell of burning flesh, Elder Norbert's face twisted in the ordeal of the flames. She remembered rushing between the dragon and him, standing as a barrier, ready to sacrifice herself to give him a chance to live. She remembered Vhagar sniffing at her curiously, she remembered closing her eyes, her legs wobbling, ready to face death. She remembered the wind whipping her face as the dragon flew away, leaving the guardian for dead but Astrisse intact.

She'd had nightmares about it for months. The human mind was a curious invention. It replayed the worst moments of your life to make you realise how lucky you were. Finding comfort in horror.

But terror had not been able to overcome her fascination for the dragon that had almost killed her. She had gone in search of her in a fit of stupidity and found her in the middle of these very dunes. Hypnotised by her beauty, Lucella had forgotten that she could have devoured her whole.

Beside her, the prince smiled. Lucella thought that perhaps he and Vhagar were meant for each other—two unstable beings who liked to play a bit too much with fire.

The keeper let her gaze drift to his leather eye patch, but quickly turned back to Vhagar, who growled in greeting. She scratched at yet another crustacean, perhaps a little harder than necessary when she felt him approach, but who would know? No one. In any case, Vhagar didn't seem to mind.

Lucella felt his gaze on the side of her face. Her cheek began to itch.

“'m the only one who can get close,” she finally admitted in a weak voice.

Lucella cleared her throat. There was no way she was going to look shy and fragile in front of Aemond Targaryen. He would enjoy seeing her doubt very much. She wouldn't give him any satisfaction.

“A sort o’ appointed guardian, if yeh like,” she continued more confidently.

“If you're her so-called guardian, why haven't I seen you before?”

“’cause Dragonkeepers are taught t’ be as discreet as possible.”

He laughed.

“That doesn't make any sense.”

“And yet that's wha’ we've been taught since t’ order was created.”

“King Jaehaerys I founded the order to prevent dragons from being stolen.”

“Maybe in t’ beginning,” she shrugged, “but things ’ave changed. Kings ’ave died. Others took their place. Dragons ’ave multiplied ’nd they became uncontrollable. T’ order had to adapt ’nd maintain t’illusion.”

“What illusion?”

“That yeh control yer dragons.”

The prince glared at her, but Lucella wouldn't take her words back. It was easy to “tame a dragon,” a feat the Targaryens took great pride in, when seventy-seven other people were literally burning to teach them to obey. Dohaerās. Obey me. The word made them proud. But where was the merit in riding a dragon when some lost flesh and limb to make them docile? Obedience was born in suffering and fire, two things the Targaryens delighted in handing out, godlike, without experiencing them first-hand.

The ‘blood of the dragon’, they called themselves. Lucella had almost laughed when she had heard it. The Targaryens were as much dragons as she was noble. Their 'gift' was just an illusion. The first riders of the lineage may once have had this talent, but it disappeared when the order of Dragonkeepers was created by Jaehaerys I.

Dragons had grown stronger over the years, their riders, weaker. Imbalance. Dragonkeepers were the ones to keep the harmony from falling altogether.

“How dare you spread such nonsense? In front of your prince!”

“’nd yet ‘am right, yer ‘ighness. D’ yeh honestly think yeh could tame a wild dragon?”

“Of course I can. I claimed the largest one when I was ten.”

And it had cost him an eye. Everyone knew the sob story. Surely a fair price from his point of view. Lucella shook her head, exasperated by the prince's obstinacy.

“Except tha’ Vhagar is ovah two ’undred years old ’nd ’as four riders already. Yeh really think you could’ve tamed ’er when she was just a babe?”

“If her egg had been placed in my cradle, yes.”

“It helps t’ create a bond ’tween t’ future ridah ’nd their mount, true,” she conceded. “But ’t’s not enough. A dragon might recognise yeh and not burn yeh because o’ it, but there’s no guarantee tha’ it will let yeh ride it, let alone listen to yeh. There's this dragon we're raising right now. Very young. Only six months old. We started training it three months ago. Six keepers wounded. Two others burned to death. It ’as known High Valyrian for ’alf ’ts life 'nd yet refuses t’ listen.”

“Perhaps because you are not a Targaryen.”

She sighed. It was like trying to talk to a deaf man.

“Go on then. In tha’ pit, I mean. T’ last time yeh went in there everythin’ went accordin’ t’ plan, ain’t tha’ right?”

Lucella immediately regretted her words. Elder Galladon, perhaps the oldest keeper, had told her many stories about the royal children. Dragonkeeper passed the time like that and soothed their burns with laughter. The sordid tale of sibling quarrelling, a winged pig and a little prince almost burnt alive had stuck with her.

The prince glared at her. Suddenly, she understood why so many people would talk about him with trembling voices. Lucella felt the colour drain from her face. She gripped her dagger so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

“Careful now, girl. I could have your tongue for that.”

“Wha’ I mean,” she continued, undeterred, “’s tha’ any dragonkeeper could ride a dragon.”

They wouldn't. Of course. The crumpled ego of a Targaryen burned hotter than the fire of the dragons they rode.

“That's not true and you know it.”

“O’ course, ’cause I dunno wha’ ’am talking a’bout, right?”

Her words were laced with sarcasm.

“Exactly.”

She nodded. A forced smile tugged painfully at her cheeks.

“Keep believing tha’. I don't giv’ a fuck what yeh think.”

Lucella turned back to Vhagar and continued to scrape her scales. The back of her neck grew hot under the prince's piercing gaze. For a while, she managed to ignore him. She cracked on the fifth barnacle. Her hand slipped and the dagger fell to the ground. Her shoulders dropped. Lucella sighed.

“Why did yeh come here, anyway? Except to keep me from me work, tha’ is.”

Aemond Targaryen raised his only visible eyebrow and replied that he had nothing to answer for, least of all when it concerned his dragon. He insisted on the ‘his’, anxious to remind Lucella that she had no place here. She rolled her eyes.

If Lucella were honest with herself, she would find his undeniable love for Vhagar almost touching. But the prince annoyed her, and she would never dare to associate anything positive with this awful character. She preferred to let herself fall into a pit of hatred and annoyance. These emotions were familiar to her, far from the beat her heart missed when she let her eyes linger on his harmonious—no, royal—features.

She looked away with warm cheeks and scraped away the few remaining marine intruders.

Lucella caressed Vhagar's green flank one last time. The dragon shook her head in response. The girl walked over to her leather bag and slung it over her shoulder. Dagger in hand, Lucella left without a glance for the prince.

Her work was done here and he couldn't make her stay, Targaryen or not. Returning to Dragonpit was more important than entertaining a prince who was as mad as he was lonely.

“I did not say you could leave.”

“Well I am. Good’day, yer ’ighness.”

Lucella walked past him and they found themselves side by side. She pulled the thick leather of her trousers as best she could and bowed low in a mocking curtsy. When she straightened up, Aemond was still staring at her. Head held high, she turned and left without a glance for this prince who was seriously starting to piss her off.

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reilliane · 1 year

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Septem (ii) ⊱⊰ Genshin!Various

✤ she/her - ✤ words: 8k

PART 02 OF 02 - [ PART ONE ]

✤ An Academy built to hone and prepare gods-to-be and blessed mortals for the world beyond — isn't it a dream come true, when a blank Vision greets you in invitation?

✤ kaeya, chongyun, mika, diluc, bennett, thoma, venti, kazuha, xiao, heizou, scaramouche/wanderer, aether

“Ad Astra.”

To your astonishment, the rays flashed even brighter, they've become so blinding that you had to close your eyes.

Only when it has dimmed to a considerable degree are you able to blink and adjust your sight, feeling an incomprehensible frisson in your chest.

Is this what magic feels like? You ponder in awe as the [c] light of your Vision beats at a steady rhythm, like a heart. It floats back down to your waiting hands.

“Septem Academy welcomes you, [Surname] [Name].”

The Sustainer smiles, golden eyes appearing even warmer than before as she beckons the four behind her to make way down the carpeted center of the gathering hall.

They do as she says, following shortly after you tail along.

“As you have just recently enrolled, the classes may be too advanced, so until you've caught up, you will stay at the Hearth and learn at your pace until it's fit for you to attend class in the campus. I will have the professors know and send in the syllabuses. Of course, you are free to enter the campus library to study if you so wish.”

Down an enclosed corridor that's only lit by torches with seven respective flame colors, you cannot help the wonder that blossoms inside. Eventually, enormous double doors are reached at the end, opening on their own to reveal a brightly illuminated room.

It is circular and open spaced—a huge gazebo, if you will. In between each marble columns stand seven tall mirrors, each accented and arrayed accordingly.

A moment is needed for you to notice that beyond the place is the celestial body itself, the skies. Rolling clouds complement the azure canvas, touched with a ray of the sun.

You wonder if the eventide will be just as majestic.

“Now, unveil your Vision.”

A sense of nervousness and excitement causes your fingers to tremble in the slightest, unwrapping from the Vision that now thrums with life. The glow of white dies down, eventually marking out a detailed insignia that has your eyes widening.

The Sustainer lifts her hand, and with a voice that commands the heavens, announces.

“Ab intra—”

— Kaeya/Chongyun/Mika

“Hearth Cryo!”

Crystalline snowflakes burst from nonexistence, languid with its descent that commemorates the arrival of another student acknowledged by dichotomy—governed by resolve.

It's cooling, in fact, the entire hall has been engulfed by a passing blizzard, not too much to the point of turning blue... but heavens, that was cold.

You let out a shiver at it.

After informing you that the corresponding Master has been summoned, the Sustainer vanishes into red cubes, followed by the rest of the cloaked figures that disappear through their respective mirrors after a bode of farewell and welcome.

The very moment they have gone, the mirror's surface in front of you—that's adorned in silver thorns and deep blue roses—starts to be enveloped by frost. You fear that it'd burst into shards, so you take a wary step back, only to gawk when a figure passes through with ease, frost clinging onto her body.

It billows away without even needing to be brushed off, as though they're mere fairy dust. The woman hums at you, mien coming off as captious that you instinctively straightened up. She cocks an eyebrow, looking almost bemused.

“If you keep on gawking, I'll have no choice but to vow vengeance upon you, so I suggest you start moving pronto.”

You stiffen. “Yes, ma'am!”

Shoot, I can't afford to make a bad impression right away-!

Far from being prepared at her promise of vengeance, you scurry forward, Vision in hand, towards the mirror that she gestures to. You begin to worry for yourself almost immediately, but held back from thinking too much — just be rational, and you'll do fine!

Passing through the frosty mirror, you land on soft snow, upheld by a sturdy grip on your arm. “Dear me, Eula, were you frightening the newcomer again?”

“Be quiet, Kaeya. The sooner she gets here, the better.”

Hearth Cryo's gateway is in the form of a wooden archway at the end of a forest. The winter is seemingly endless and the snowfall is heavy, though the cold isn't as biting as you thought it'd be.

Looming in the distance is a fortified castle, mighty and lonesome, it exudes the impression that it is built to defend its inhabitants from the bitter cold—or perhaps even something more?

Eula thankfully enlightens you more after catching the curio in your gaze. The Hearth isn't always in a winter stasis. In fact, it mirrors the real world the most out of the rest of the Hearths, which she mentions is always in an 'impossibly good weather'. Hearth Cryo goes through the usual four seasons, it just so happens that you manage to land in winter.

You do not know what to expect of the hearthmembers, so you're somewhat blundered when you get to see them all for the first time. They are all so... different.

You suppose that it's understandable—after all, wasn't this Hearth acknowledged by dichotomy? When you come to introduce yourself, you also did not expect their thorough introductions. Kaeya merely says that it's what makes them as tight-knit as a Hearth; everyone being so different, yet similar in the one aspect that they face significant contradictions. To an awful, almost upsetting degree.

Really, the sentimental bomb is too big of a drop, you feared they saw the glassy sheen in your eyes. You eventually understood then, that the castle sort of signified everyone's defense from the ghastly paradox thrown to them by fate.

“Heh, interested in me, are you? Oh? Don't tell me you're getting emotional over everyone? You're amusing. They may not express it well, but I'm sure that your arrival has brought some warmth this winter.”

Kaeya Alberich—you question why he's in the Academy despite already having such a nice grasp of his Vision, and he only laughs. He says that the reason is solely because he's part of an exchange program, and officially belongs to Aurum College—an educational institution for the 'magicless yet gifted'. In other words, he hailed from Khaenri'ah, a far, far away nation.

He is on his way to graduate and be a part of the Knights Brigade there, until he was suddenly blessed with a Vision. Thus, he has been sent here to master the element until it is time to return. He has a fellow Aurum student, apparently, one in Hearth Geo.

Despite being such an enigmatic man, sometimes he doesn't seem to have a filter with his words at all, bluntly stating that other than the reason for mastering his Vision, he wants to find out how the 'blessed mortals favored by gods' actually act like.

It isn't surprising; you know that the people are torn between liking and disliking the ostensibly 'biased' concept of being granted elemental magic. Everyone has dreams of their own, so why isn't everyone blessed with magic?

Kaeya enlightens you of everything that goes about Aurum College and how he personally views 'blessed mortals' in your free time. He finds some to be a bit uptight and insufferable, but nothing drastic at all—for deep down, magicless or not, everyone is human. Save for the Hearthleaders, of course. When you jokingly asked if you're a part of the group that he finds insufferable, he only gives a charmingly annoying smile. Darn him and his flirty tendencies... if Rosaria was around (and that one man from Hearth Pyro) then he'd be forced to spill!

“It's just me... ! I- My deepest apologies, I didn't mean to scare you. I give the place a thorough look over before turning in for the night. Mm? Well, believe it or not, the castle's supernatural activity spikes in the evening... even the campus'.”

It completely blew past your mind that Chongyun patrols the castle halls in the dead of night, so when you got a little peckish at midnight and aimed to grab some snacks from the distant pantry... you nearly shrieked upon spotting a terrifying blur of blue zooming past like a ghost.

If not for the candle he held nearby, you would've screamed and alerted everyone! Poor Chongyun looks just as spooked as you are though, but was much better in concealing his surprise. Shenhe, his aunt, unfortunately caught the both of you like deers in headlights.

Rosaria and Shenhe frequently joins him in this trip, see, and so they catch you wandering the halls late in the night some time again. They invited you along and you agreed! A late night adventure it is! They might have an old-fashioned way of exorcising things, but they're geared with literal ghost hunting equipment! Chongyun once expressed resigned amusement when you eagerly waited for him to explain what all the whatchamacallits do, saying you remind him of a friend.

He also says that this duty is something that he must see through until graduation, for there really are spirits roaming around in the night that needs to be exorcised or appeased lest they cause trouble. He mentions that they are ancient souls that were defeated in a long forgotten war... ooh, shivers.

At nights when you get drowsy in the middle of your 'trips', he'd gladly sit with you somewhere and let you take a nap as he tells ghost stories (and about his other friends from other Hearths). Sometimes he'd even carry you back to the castle if it feels like you're going to sleep the whole night away. He won't be able to look at you in the eye without turning into a tomato the next morning, though!

“[N-Name]... ? I noticed that you were struggling in your subjects earlier... so, do you- um-! Will you let me help you? Only if you want to, of course, I'm not coming off as demanding am I? I really only want to help- I- I'm rambling!!”

Mika is such a sweet bean. You made the mistake of calling him as such and he became putty, unable to construct intelligible sentences and even glance you without squeaking.

He becomes a completely different person when it comes to learning, however, almost like he's possessed with a spirit of vigor! He's talented in all classes except for communication-centered ones... he tries his best, though!

Along with Ganyu and Layla, he asks to tutor you after noticing the struggle to catch up with the rest and looks utterly relieved when you accepted the offer. Eula teased him about it in your presence and he fainted, literally, so you had to take him to the campus infirmary. He woke up midway and when he realized that you were carrying him there... fainted again.

Seriously, you thought he has a weak heart! Kaeya couldn't stop laughing about it, much to sweet Mika's embarrassment. It's safer to actually let it happen than to come to his defense, Ayaka once did so and the blond could only malfunction further.

He hides away in the archives of the castle, busying himself with maps of Old Teyvat that he was so engrossed in and charting possible maps of the regions beyond by reading available information. Regardless if it's on paper or in his tablet, his works are guaranteed to have intricacies. It is an interesting thing that he does that you're in awe of. Now, if only you know more about him other than his love for such things... maybe he'll eventually open up?

You've asked about the whereabouts of your Hearthleader, but even your fellow hearthmates know little about her other than the fact that she's undergoing 'executive training' under the current Archon of Snezhnaya and won't be back until months later.

Everyone doesn't really get together like most hearths do, no special and fancy celebrations other than what is already tradition, like New Year's and Christmas. Not like it matters, for everybody already is close to one another even if it doesn't seem like it.

They all are present for every breakfast and dinner—and everyone even goes to campus together! They're such a sweet bunch, Eula comments that she'll have ants all over her what with the found family dynamic. Everyone knows she's just as glad, though.

... That is, if the Hearth is in order.

There will be a blizzard outside and everyone by the fireplace will be engaged in light banter, bundled in blankets.

“Hydro Seniors are at it again with Dendro, did you see them almost sparking another debate in the cafeteria?” “I certainly did. Ayaka, your brother has a sharp tongue when it comes down to it, doesn't he?” “Indeed... he doesn't intend to cause harm, however. In fact, I believe he fancies the academic rivalry that's proceeding.” “At least your brother doesn't mean any harm with it, unlike Kaeya who likes to pick up a fight with Ragnvindr... Eula, how are you not punishing him for this?” “Rosaria! Hey now! That's no fight. Diluc and I are merely having a wholehearted conversation.” “Even if I did, it's not like he'll stop. Leave him to it, vengeance will be served soon, anyway... ah, Ganyu, Shenhe, how are things going on your end?” “Certainly well! I've managed to work around the stress of so many papers so I had some decent sleep lately.” “But you were awake yesterday night until three in the morning? My nephew and I saw light in your room while going about the castle.” “Yes... we heard some grumbles, as well... we thought it was a spirit until we realized that it was just Ganyu fussing over her projects with Layla.” “S-Shenhe, Chongyun, shhh... !” “Lying won't work at all, you're caught red handed~” “It could not be helped! I was helping Mika research about something, too, so-!” “Ganyu, that was supposed to be a secret!” “Wow, I need some wine for this- hey, Kaeya!” “Everyone, tone down! I cannot believe you all started falling apart and [Name] hasn't even been here for a full week yet! Mark my words, vengeance will be-!” “Yes, yes, Master.” “Alberich... !”

— Diluc/Bennett/Thoma

“Hearth Pyro!”

Balls of fire spew from nonexistence, blistering with its heat that commemorates the arrival of another student blessed with resolution—governed by cathexis.

Oddly enough, they aren't burning hot at all. The heat that it carries is tender, like the cozy warmth from a fireplace, it's utterly comforting. It very much feels as though you are being gazed upon by a kind sun.

A girl with pretty pink hair passes through the mirror to your left, nodding in what you can assume is content as she takes in your appearance. “[Surname] [Name], correct? I'm Yanfei, I'll be guiding you to our Hearth.”

“It's nice to meet you,” you return her nod as you walk closer, examining the mirror in great detail. It is coated in gold, with fragments and shards floating about in a bright scarlet glow.

“Same here!”

Rubies, maybe? Or firestones?

Catching the awe in your gaze, she giggles, proud. “Pretty, isn't it? Our Hearth is even prettier! Come, let's not keep them waiting any longer. Everyone's pretty excited that we're having someone new, you know?”

Ah, that's good to hear. It's comforting to know that they're all open to someone who has practically appeared out of the blue.

“Alright, then!” you return her smile, letting her go first before following shortly behind.

Warmth is the very first thing that welcomes you, tolerable and actually faint, like you're bundled in a blanket. The next thing, is a bright light that nearly blinds you had your eyes not adjusted.

A series of greetings are soon heard, all with varying levels of excitement.

Yanfei isn't kidding when she said that Hearth Pyro is really pretty. An extravagant, rustic-style mansion (goodness, you think it's even bigger than a mansion) stands before you. A column of arches draped with crystals line up to the front porch, with enormous trees bearing gold and scarlet leaves seen all about the place.

Also, was that a pheonix flying by just now? Alas, there is little time to be astounded, because you're hearing calls from all sorts of directions.

Your hearthmates' smiles are blinding (save for that well-composed man at the back and that twin-tailed girl's... devilish grin-) as they gather around, tugging you to the mansion as if you're someone they knew from long ago. Their cordial behavior is uplifting, you can't help but be put at ease.

Right then and there, you just know that there won't be any rainclouds over your head—not when everyone is a ray of sunshine. You didn't even think it was possible for so many friendly people to be in a single place! Is this what a good world looks like?

Hearth Pyro already feels like home. There is just something about it that carries such comfort. Not to mention, the hearthmembers' personalities. They even threw you a welcome party!

They are the friendliest out of all the Hearths and you aren't surprised. You also learn that they host most of the school events, serving as emcees and even mediators for clashing Hearths. Which, again, isn't surprising at all.

“Good morning. I take it that you had a good night's rest? Oh, I'm an early riser, I just got back from the campus, here are your papers. Don't be nervous to ask if you need help understanding something.”

Diluc Ragnvindr, he's the heir to a hefty inheritance and is the next company head of Dawn Winery in Mondstadt. Familiarity did not strike a chord until you heard his surname and you almost freaked out. His father has commissioned you once to bake the sweets for an event, how can you not know of the Ragnvindr name? Though you've never met the son- until now, that is.

He's just as surprised, but admits that he's heard of you from his father. Along with the reveal of his name comes with his reason for studying in Septem; despite already having his future set in stone, he has revealed that he plans to be high in the ranks of the Favonius Brigade, as well.

Thus, if he isn't occupied with studying or other affairs pertaining to the wine industry—he expressed distaste in wine itself, which is surprising—he can be found in the campus' or the Hearth's barracks. If that 'annoyance' in Hearth Cryo is around the campus, then he won't stay and linger there anymore. If he's nowhere to be seen, then best to assume that he's holed up in another extravagant meeting outside the Academy.

You do wonder how he's able to stay at topnotch shape despite having at least more than five responsibilities, though. And when he finds out, he just chuckles, saying that such stresses are necessary if he seeks to see the fulfillment of his objectives.

Since he is more than aware of the weight of stress, he's extra heedful of everyone, always saying not to push themselves and take a rest. It's become a part of his routine to give aid—knowing that you will not ask him for help even if you clearly need it—and make you your preferred beverage in the mornings.

“Oh shoot, [Name], I'm sorry-! Oh go- is it- is it that hot?! Heck, of course it is, wait here, I'll go get the med kit! Then I'll treat you to the cafeteria to make up for it!”

You knew that Hearth Pyro is too good to be true, you just knew that there had to be something—or in this case, someone—that counters the good. And that's, ladies and gentlemen, bad luck in the form of a poor student, Bennett.

When Amber once told you to watch yourself around Bennett because you may get hurt, you didn't believe her- how can a sunshine bring you harm?! Yes, you ate those words the moment he spilled the coffees he was carrying onto you.

It was a disaster at the table and it was only six in the morning! Luckily, no one was awoken by both of your screeching. You've never heard someone apologize so quickly after slamming his head unto the floor (how is he not bleeding from that!?). Quick to defuse the situation, you tell him it's alright, he can't control his bad luck.

He means well, you know it, so how can you hold a grudge and be petty? Such a poor sweetheart! He makes up for it by buying you snacks from the canteen whenever he can, sometimes even staying up to keep you company. Movies? Movies!

Bennett has a heart of gold and you admire how he keeps his head up in spite of his bad luck. He does not stop trying, does not stop dreaming. You told him this once and his face glowed as red as the Vision strapped to his belt bag, spluttering incoherent sentences one after the other until ultimately—accidentally—knocking your pencil case off the table and- well, there goes your papers, too...

“Hey there! You didn't come down for dinner, so we all assumed you were busy studying. I brought you your meal! Oh, and I had the same professor when I took that class, I'll get my notes for you real quick, okay?”

Thoma seems to have a lot of time available despite being a full-time student in the Hearth- how the heck does he manage keeping track of his straight A's while maintaining the dorm pristine?

The chores are meant to be divided so why does he do it all?! When confronted about it he laughs it all away and says that everyone should just focus on whatever it is they're doing and leave the work to him, which is unacceptable! So, to sweet Thoma's chagrin, Diluc took over the cooking with Xiangling, Yanfei and Hu Tao were in charge of handling written affairs, Xinyan and Bennett dusted away the furniture, whilst Yoimiya and Amber tended to everyone's equipment weekly. Dehya is in charge of ascertaining the extracurricular activities delegated by the Council (Celestia) for the Hearth.

Thoma said that it was fine, but everyone knew how much he appreciated it despite him reasoning that it felt much like he's sinning(!?)—which resulted to laughter. He learned to ask for help eventually, much to the relief of many.

That doesn't mean that he's let go of his tendency to try and take a step further when it comes to helping others, however. He pins his focus on you whenever possible and you're truly thankful! After helping you settle in the Hearth, he accompanied you to the Atelier, a place where you buy other essentials. He even treated you to dessert and insisted that you need not pay him back!

He's an angel and everyone concurs. Though rivalries between Hearths are ineludible, no one ever sought him out to a magic battle or anything of the like. All students tolerate—if not like—this man. Goodness, even the professors are fond of him, what's his secret?!

Hearth Pyro is in charge of Septem's ceremonies, be it from the hosting of Spring Festival or the Magical Cotillion that's held the night before New Year's, everything falls in their hands. This entails that they have full authority over the themes and games, a lovely specialty of those in the Hearth.

Sadly, because of this, there are very few instances where everyone can take a breather, for the academy has frequent celebrations. Even so, this does not dampen everyone's spirits, because who says planning can't be fun?

It may not be to some, but this is Hearth Pyro, fun is its core!

Besides, the Headmaster said that if there are any leftover mora from the budget, it can be used by the members of Hearth Pyro however they see fit. A kind of compensation for all the work, without a doubt.

And oh, where that money goes... (karaoke, field trips, weekend getaways, a special tour in the Ragnvindr's Winery!?)

Additionally, since everyone is working and planning in one place, the opportunity for a huge slumber party is thrown, solely for members of the Hearth only!

With a movie playing in the background and pizza boxes open, everyone bundled in duvets on the floor and typing plans, ah, what a night!

“December... ah, we've to arrange the Magical Cotillion, right? How d'ya suppose we go about the theme this time?” “Not yet, Xinyan! We have Winter Cradle to go through first. It's taking place at the 15th... ooooh, what shall we do to make this exciting. Maybe another ghost event~” “Ah, I completely forgot about that! It's a good thing that it only takes up three days compared to Spring Cradle... you have any ideas, Thoma?” “Oh, oh! What if we have every Hearth participate in a cooking competition? We can have outsiders as judges! Don't we need to raise something for charity as well?” “You're just using this opportunity to cook, aren't you.” “Diluc!” “Well, Xiangling's idea doesn't sound half-bad. I don't think we ever hosted a cooking competition... in December.” “Hahaaa! That's 'cause things like that fit more in the Summer! But hey, a lil' deviation won't hurt anyone now, would it? Besides, if Thoma's handlin' it then no one will argue!” “We can be mellow with the second game for the next day, then. How does Elemental Trace sound to you, Yanfei?” “Dehya... isn't that the free-for-all game where you have to hide your Hearth flag and Leader while the enemy tries to capture them both? Should we allow element-infused paintballs this time, Yanfei?” “H-Hold on, how is that mellow-!?” “I don't see a problem with this at all, Dehya, a great idea! Don't worry, Amber, Septem is far from being mellow, anyway! Now, for the appropriate punishments for the losing teams... Headmaster asked us to try and strengthen the Hearths' camaraderie with one another, yes?” “I don't like where this is going...” “Winning Hearth is exempted. Losing Hearths will pair themselves up and room together in each other's dorms for two weeks.” “This is going to result to chaos... If Dendro and Hydro end up pairing together...” “Well, all the more reason to win, don't you think? We can ask the twins for help this time, we should make it complicated, hm~”

— Venti/Kazuha/Xiao/Heizou/Scaramouche

“Hearth Anemo!”

Glowing feathers materialize from nonexistence, delicate with its descent that commemorates the arrival of another student blessed with ideals—governed by freedom.

You are unable to be in awe for much longer, for just as you are about to caress a feather that droops nearby, excited murmurs flood your hearing.

The Sustainer vanishes into red cubes after giving you an almost strained smile, followed by the rest of the cloaked figures that disappear through their respective mirrors after a bode of farewell and welcome. Well, one of the cloaked figures, a tall one with a molten gold Vision clipped at the front, rebukes.

“Do not tow the new student in your Hearth's knavery, let her focus.”

“Hey! Don't tell me what to do, I'll have you know, my Hearthmembers know when to behave!” responded the one that is now standing before you, huffing as the taller figure disappeared through his mirror.

You blink, stupefied. Ah, that was a warning and implication, wasn't it? Does it mean that the Hearth you've been sorted to often attracts trouble-?

“Hehe~ Hi there, [Name]!” wow, he has a beautiful set of eyes, “I'm Hearthleader Barbatos, but you can just call me Venti. I'm glad to have you as our newest addition!”

Venti is relentlessly shaking your hands with a bright grin. Although his visage leans more onto the cute side, with the way he winks at you, you're led to believe that he can be just as boyish if he wants to.

“Likewise,” you nod, unable to stave off the smile that tugs on your lips and he cheers. Immediately, he tugs you towards his mirror, one that emanated such a pleasant breeze that you can't help but sigh.

The Hearthleader catches onto this and puffs his chest out in pride with an even bigger grin than before, saying he's thankful that you liked the winds he's personally conjuring about. It's baffling, to suddenly know that he's been using his magic all along.

He laughs, his hand halfway through the mirror.

“Don't worry, I'll make sure you master the winds just as well, now, are you ready to go?”

You nod and he hums, taking a step inside. “Okay, you ready to fall out of the sky?”

“Yes— wait what-!?”

He pulls you inside, ignoring your demands for clarifications as he yells, “Here we go!”

Eyes snapped shut, your screams clash with his guffaws. Pride left forgotten, you cling onto your Hearthleader—as embarrassing as it is—as you both quite literally, fall out of the sky. The race of your heart drums in your ears as the wind envelops your freefall.

Upon Venti's insistence, you pry your eyes open and—woah. It doesn't even occur that you are still free-falling as you take in the breathtaking view; Hearth Anemo consists of large, floating islands, with the dorm itself standing on the biggest and central island.

The sky is the bluest shade there is, the clouds are as fluffy as cotton, and the cool wind never stops from breezing by—hold on, did a dragon just fly past?!

The sight of the entire place prevents you from noticing the hold your Hearthleader has on your waist, steady and gentle in your descent upon the lush, viridescent grass, where the rest of the hearthmembers wait. A kind blonde lady steadies you the moment your feet are on the ground, giving a lightly reprimanding look towards Venti, who only giggled.

With the way Jean—the Hearth Master—lectures him about your entry, you're led to believe that this is how everyone else is welcomed. An elfish thing to do, certainly, but you can't start to deny things—not when you learned to enjoy it. Albeit only in the last second.

The members of Hearth Anemo are... interesting. Aside from the ladies who are very well-mannered and decorous, the men, on the other hand... hm, is unique the word? They're a colorful, rowdy bunch, exhibiting lax with a touch of differing rascality.

“[Name]! [Name], what'cha doing- eh!? You're still studying? But you already passed your assignments, didn't you? Let's go do something, pleaaaaaaase! It's a Saturdayyyy!”

Most of the time, Venti does not act much like a Hearthleader, commonly found sprawled out on the sofa snoring away with his headset blaring music. He doesn't even make it into his room! By far, the most lenient out of all known leaders, as commented by Heizou.

Do not let it sway your belief that he's incapable of being earnest, though! He has his fair share of formidable moments, surfacing especially when it comes to matters regarding the nation he'll rule over soon, or when he seems to be reminiscing about something. It unsettles everyone—even Scaramouche—to a certain degree whenever it happens.

He may be high-spirited, but he's Menace #1. It is because of your dearly beloved Hearthleader that you grew paranoid enough to lock your bedroom door. The very morning after your welcome in the dorm, you wake up screaming because of a huge, huge dragon pushing his face to your window—courtesy of Venti, of course. It took only a matter of seconds for the rest of your hearthmates to scramble into your room, wielding questionable kitchen utensils from a whisk to a frying pan despite being half-asleep.

You cannot bring yourself to look at them in the eye because of embarrassment and Venti is just obnoxiously laughing away as if it's a daily occurrence! Sucrose shyly empathizes with you, saying that everyone practically went through the same thing and they've all forgotten to warn you about it last night.

Safe to say, you make sure to lock your room and windows after that, for though the Hearthleader manages to pull pranks even outside the safety of your room, you won't let him bother your sleep any longer! This results to him pawing the outside of your door as if he was a cat begging to be let in.

“The winds are lovely, aren't they? Their caress is comforting even in the eventide. Ah, yes, I can spend all afternoon basking here in solitude... feel free to stay, I do not mind at all.”

Whenever you feel stressed, burnt out, or just failing to be in the right spirits for the day, you seek Kazuha out. He just bears this kind of aura that doesn't fail to allay whatever weight is in your chest. Maybe it's the way he's always so at peace? Maybe his sweet smile?

He comes to you after the small party in honor of your arrival, ever so graciously asking if you'd allow him to help you settle in the dorms and with your studies. Why in Celestia's name is he so kind? Thus, for all that he has done, he has the honor of taking the first bite of the cake you made as thanks for everyone's pleasant welcome (all except for one).

Sucrose joins him in teaching you from time to time, and with their help, you easily manage to get a hang of the classes. Kazuha turns down your offer of payment each time, saying that it's only right for a fellow hearthmate to help another. Ugh, really!

When you aren't busy or being badgered by the rest of your hearthmates, he invites you to go out with him during the weekend, visiting his home nation whenever possible. He can't stick in one place, he says, so he finds the time to go out—it explains why if he's not helping you in your studies, then he might as well be deemed a missing person. Imagine your surprise when you find out that he likes taking naps in the middle of class, yet, his grades are excellent...

He's pretty old-fashioned, too, being all chivalrous and poetic you nearly thought he belonged in Hearth Hydro. You can't forget when he welcomed you in the dorm with a kiss to your knuckles. Kazuha is a sweet man, but with the way his eyes twinkled almost devilishly, you believe that he has his own hidden side of mischief.

“What are you doing out here at this hour? You need-... me? I don't need to tell you anything. Huh? You're a fool, sacrificing slumber just to what, stare at the moon? Wait, you... want me to join?”

He seems to dislike you, avoiding eye contact and sneering when you accidentally brush past him. This led to you steering clear, not liking the idea of burgeoning whatever enmity there is. It's not until you overhear Venti lecturing him about his 'rebarbative shyness' that you start assuming; maybe he's not that bad. Jean and Heizou backed this up, saying that Xiao does think nicely of you... only, he doesn't know how to express that.

You want to believe them, but it's hard when the student in question is glaring from across the breakfast table! Your muted tussle with him is peak entertainment for the rest in the Hearth, though. Scaramouche doesn't have the slightest bit of filter each time he laughs sardonically at the predicament—and that only worsened the glare on your person!? 〒▽〒??

Things change the night you wake up from a nightmare. Disfavoring the idea of heading back to sleep, you bundle yourself with a blanket and head out of the dorm into the comfort of the winds. You take the opportunity to walk around the entire Hearth, past the bridges connecting floating islands and mountains.

His presence surprises you as he, quite literally, jumps from the precipice of a mountain. The winds slowed and aided his descent, but holy smokes, how are his knees okay?! Your terrified expression causes him to scowl and... reprimand you for staying out so late? Huh? Is he concerned?

When he learns that you're awake because of nightmares, he grows silent, as if he can relate. His face turns pink when you invite him to stargaze as a way to pass the time. He vehemently refuses—but gives in after your silence, even lending you an earphone so you can listen to music! And so you both pass the night gazing at the night sky until you wake up to see the stupid grins of your hearthmates. Xiao may have avoided you out of embarrassment, but everything's good now, really!

“A trace of flour in your hair, an aroma of chocolate, hm, something tells me that you're quite an expert in baking sweets... oh, I'm right? Aha! But of course, my intuition never disappoints me. Say, will it be too much to ask you to bake something? I can help you out~”

He goes by the name of Shikanoin Heizou, but you know him as Menace #2. This man actively engages in pranks with Venti and is one of the main source of the Hearth's ensuing chaos, be it within the dorm itself or during competitions. He may not be a fan of physical confrontations, but he loves being subtle and 'harmless' when he messes around with other Hearths.

Contrary to his impish nature, he becomes pro-faced when he's in his specialized class, criminology. And in spite of still being a student, you hear that he has already made a name for himself outside the Academy. (Venti tells you that it's only because Heizou gets in the way of police officers, though.. and manages to catch the criminal before they can).

He's rather fearsome, what with his intuition and intellect. He gives off the impression of a slacker—and he does slack around, so how is it that he's still in the top of his specialized class, clashing with a silver-haired rival? Heizou once offered to teach you, with a price that he didn't bother elaborating on. Yeah, you didn't want to risk anything, so you turned it down, much to his laughter.

He, much like Venti, has a habit of dragging you around places for no reason. You're fine with it, until you both somehow ended up stumbling into a completely different mirror—and into Hearth Electro, where a silver-haired Master (is he that rival?) was a second away from enacting 'judgement' for crossing without notice.

To your complete horror, Heizou is only laughing as he tugs your wrist, dragging you along in your run/escape/hunt to find the portal that transports you back to the Paths Chamber. By the time you've both landed in the safety of the Hearth, he's still laughing. He promised to take over your chores for a week, though, so all's good and well. (Until he drags you somewhere again.)

“Winter Cradle begins weeks from now, it's a competition between Hearths, I expect you not to drag us down lest those pyromaniacs think up of some absurd punishment. Well? What're you gawing at? Move.”

Oh he hates you, alright—no, he despises you for sure! How do you know? Because when you came up to greet him during the welcome party, he sneered and told you to kindly [REDACTED] off and leave him the [REDACTED] alone, smiley face :)

You shouldn't feel too down though, assures Jean. 'Cause even if Scara 'hates' everyone, he'll learn to accept and 'tolerate' your presence in the Hearth. Yeah, you think it'll be a long time from now, so you try not to talk to him unless it's necessary.

Menace #3. Pushing people's buttons and riling them up must be his life mission, but unlike Heizou who doesn't mean any harm, this guy means it and is absolutely blunt when it comes to his comments (insults). He revels in seeing people pissed off and it has once led the Headmaster to confine the whole Hearth in their dorm for two weeks.

Though he butts head with Xiao a lot, it pales when he's up against that one ginger in Hearth Hydro. He'll be incessant with his goading and comments, but will stop when intercepted. When you went to stop him from picking a fight with Hearth Dendro's Buer—aka their Hearthleader—he only gave you a scowl before backing off. You received Jean and Venti's endless thanks afterward... and you end up being assigned as Menace #3's mediator slash personal 'i'm so sorry for him, he doesn't know what he's doing' speaker.

You don't realize that aside from some of the set rules in Septem and Hearth Anemo, he only listens to you—and Kazuha points it out during dinner. It isn't surprising to see Scara explode, but what catches everyone off-guard is seeing his red, red face. From then on, it isn't hard to notice how pink his cheeks go even if he's scowling at you. What's up with him?

Hearth Anemo has a tradition of spending time together. Happening at the end of each month, everyone will race around the whole Hearth, going through the main islands and the tiny other floating islets before leaping off the land and taking flight, sometimes crossing portals to other Hearths.

Sounds absurd? Well apparently, everyone has their own manner of 'flight' save for Heizou, Kazuha, and Jean (very swift runners), who channels Anemo on their feet so they can leap higher and jump from floating stones to another.

During your first race, Venti had you join him on the dragon during flight, alongside the runners whilst the rest fly along. Xiao and Scaramouche are arguing in mid air, whilst poor Sucrose and Faruzan—who are seated on a winged cube and prism—almost go deaf nearby.

It is incredibly relieving to just take to the skies and you saw the way everyone smiled—except for a certain someone—when you expressed determination to master the winds so you can fly alongside them next time.

“Hey, does anyone know where [Name] is? I've been searching for her all morning..” “Heh, maybe she's got enough of your face, Hearthleader. Didn't you wake her up with that dragon of yours again?” “Scaramouche, how awful of you to even assume such things! My dear hearthmember can't possibly be annoyed of me!” “No, I think he's right for once.” “Not you too, Xiao!” “U-um, if it helps... Master Jean and I saw her with the representatives in charge for finding the venue for the Magical Cotillion earlier..” “Hm, so she's with those from Hearth Pyro?” “No, Hearth Pyro is currently busy with Winter Cradle, so they asked some help in searching for a place-” “You guys! Kaveh just posted: #outwithnewstudent! #busydayahead #scoutingtonsofplaces #septemlife #alhaithambailedagain. She's with this Kaveh guy, the Ragnvindr, Hearthleader Morax, Mona, Cyno, and Alberich.” “Thank you for informing us, Heizou. What an odd line-up... so every Hearth has one representative. But I suppose it'll work out just fine since Kazuha went with her-” “Kazuha's with her!?” “What is with all this noise! I can't focus on my research if- hey, where are you all going? Woah-! Ah, Master Jean... they're all gone..” “... Well, since the boys left, it looks like you can focus on your work now.”

— Aether —Bonus: Lumine [Platonic]

“... Null.”

The reveal stuns the four in cloaks, whispers and murmurs arising that does little to satisfy your confusion. Null? Does this mean that...

In all its incadescent glory, the glow of your Vision remains a still white, obstinate and unchanging to other known seven colors. I don't have a place here?

“This is most surprising... who would've thought that we'll have another case like this?” concern blooms upon discerning the conflict in the Sustainer's voice, who then gazes at you imploringly.

“I would like to apologize, dear, but as you do not belong to any known Hearths, you will...”

You stiffen. Ah, I know that coming here was too good to be true.

“... Be living at the campus itself.”

Wait—

“Excuse me?” you splutter. “I thought that- doesn't null mean nothing? How can I ever... with this?”

The white Vision that holds no insignia of any element proceeds to pulse as though it is your heart. It draws in the rest of the cloaked figures, whose whispers entail something about 'twins' and with you as another addition to the cryptic 'element'.

It ignites a sense of hope inside. Are they implying that you aren't the only one granted with the blankness of a gift?

Almost like the fair woman is attuned with your train of thoughts, she places a hand on your shoulder. “Before your arrival, twin siblings have come to grace the Academy with a similar conundrum, and their Visions...”

You, along with the four figures, flinch at the way cracks litter across the case of the gift- until it bursts- and disappears as though it wasn't there in the first place.

“... Much like yours, shattered and vanished,” she then takes your hand and turns it over to view the rhombus mark that has just recently appeared. “Then in its stead, a marking of sorts came.”

A four pointed star luminescent with pinks, blues, and violets glow on your palm, bright and telling.

The Sustainer dismisses the group of four shortly as you marvel at the enchanting sight of the prism-like mark. It's beautiful.

Alone with the golden-eyed woman, she leads you out of the Paths Chamber and back into the halls, threading across the grand interior of the Academy. No one is around, but you seem to hear the faintest sound of little children singing—well, you think it belongs to children.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see a handful of tiny creatures wobbling about with equally tiny hats and a fixed smile. However, they scurry to hide whenever you try to catch them.

Eventually, after passing the many, many sections of the campus and heading up several floors through a hidden staircase that only appears when you step onto it, you reach the peak of the Academy itself.

Who would've thought that a living space will be here? Despite technically being a loft—a large, beautiful one that stretches throughout the whole floor—it feels homely. If not for the blessing of sight, and if you relied on the atmosphere alone, you would've believed this to be the house you grew up in. Preoccupied with marveling over the place, the sound of the names being called flies past your ears.

Well, until the Sustainer is tapping your shoulder and you're turning to set your eyes upon twin siblings.

“Someone else is actually just like us! Glad to meet you, I'm Aether. It gets a little lonely around here, Lumine's getting sad 'cause she doesn't have anyone to speak to other than me because it's not permitted to sleep over at other dorms- hey, stop hitting me- but it's the truth!?”

Somehow, the range and utility of elements come to both siblings with relative ease, unlike you. For this very reason, Aether helps you out with learning how to get the hang of each of them. This carries on even after you're finally permitted to learn in the campus, and he becomes some kind of guard whenever someone makes you too uncomfortable. The attention of being able to wield seven elements is suffocating.

In a surprising turn of events, this guy actually has the guts to skip class. Not often, but he does so if he feels like the day is too 'bland' for his tastes. He still aces his exams, though. The twins appear like role model students, but do people know that they're sharing food in the middle of class? No!?

In potionology, a class he excels in, he concocts the best of brews with little to no side effects at all. For the fun of it, he sometimes brews a potion that somehow works as a meal—it's strange, but hey! You and Lumine are starting to live off of it when spending all-nighters, much to his utter concern. You both need actual food, not potions! o(≧口≦)o

Curses! You really thought that he's the sweetheart between the twins, but he has a devilish side to him, huh? He just adores waking you up in the morning in a bunch of ways. Once, he teasingly roused you from your sleep whilst being close to your face (you couldn't face him for hours), and one time, he sent you flying with Anemo!

Overlook his antics, however, then he really can be quite the sweetheart. Moments when you feel down, he'll give you a tub of ice cream. He goes out of his way to make sure you have the maximum amount of comfort in the 'dorm', and will not hesitate to help you with literally anything.

“I'm relieved to know that it isn't just us. Do you need help with something? You can count on me, Aether's a big dummy anyway. Let me tell you, he was just as bored as I am, he simply didn't want to admit it- hoh, so now you're hitting me!”

Although the dorm is spacious enough to accommodate the addition of another room, you bunk in with Lumine, to her excitement. Initially, you thought her to be mellow, but she's pretty high-spirited! The very night you arrived, you're both up so late in the early morning that if Aether hadn't barged in with a scolding session, it's a certainty that you wouldn't have slept at all.

It never deters either of you from doing it over and over, though. It has become so thrilling pretending to be asleep when Aether comes in to check if you're resting, and laughing silently when you get away with it. If you're lucky enough, you can even rope him in!

If Lumine manages to wake up early (a rare occurrence), she will save you from her brother's impish rousing. If not (an almost daily event) then you both can chase him for the sudden ice bath that woke you up and drenched you whole.

Lumine is the one to be a helping hand in your written studies, contrasting her twin, who guides you with your magic. She can be pretty strict, but all is well, for it's through her teaching that you are quickly able to have classes in the main campus.

She understands the stuffiness of being in the spotlight just as well as Aether does, so she diffuses any escalating situation that will stress you further, especially in class. Ah, and she is aware- more than aware of your escapades, how can she not? Ask her to join next time! (And so, three 'null' students are nowhere to be found in campus from time to time...)

The twins are pretty popular among the student body all because of their atypical ability and kindness. Now that there's a rumor about a third student being able to wield seven elements, oh dear.

They like to hold each of your hand as you go down for class, a very heartwarming sight for many. As the time folds on, however, you notice that Aether is giving some of the students a smug look... ah, one can only wonder why. (Lumine slaps her head and says that you're terribly dense.)

Leisure time with the twins is heavenly! You do all sorts of things, from movie marathons, to baking tons of desserts, playing video games, leaving the Academy for little trips- everything! Tight-knit as ever, mess with one, you mess with the two! So everyone knows not to, at all costs, get on their bad side...

During event games like the Seasonal Cradles in which it'll be dorms against dorms, you three have the luxury of either participating or sitting out. It's fun! You can't forget the Halloween event when Hu Tao and co approached to ask for help in scaring the students, ah yes, that was golden.

By the time a semester has passed by, these twins are knowing of everyone's warranted fascination about you. Quick, let one of them snip a photo of you three together and just post it in social media... nuh-uh, you're their precious dorm mate- uh, hearthmate, um- loftmate?? Be jelly, suckers!

You expected to be sorted to a Hearth, yes, but right now? You are perfectly fine and elated to be with the twins. Will not have it any other way!

“I think everyone's leaving for their homes this semester break?” “Mhm, what about it?” “Hooooo~ That means the whole campus and the Hearths are all for ourselves! Should we go have some fun?” “Lumine, I don't think we can just enter anyone's Hearth without permission. Plus, [Name]...” “Actually, I haven't seen any Hearths yet. I'd like to visit, but I don't want to intrude on anyone's business.. I don't know everyone as well as you two, either..” “Okay let's do it.” “Brother, I didn't know you can be this down bad for-” “We can also ask the Council for a gate pass so we can travel outside if we want to!” “Oh, that's a great idea!” “Quit ignoring me, you two!”

A lot can happen in the span of five years.

Your life at Septem Academy may have just begun, but with the way things kicked off at a great start, you’re relieved to say that maybe the adventure really is just beginning, as well.

Ah, but before all that, perhaps you first need to catch up on learning how to utilize your newfound magic.

a/n: so~ it's revealed that kaeya/albedo are exchange students from the distant college in Khaenri'ah! holy smokes, they came from so far :'))

also added a bonus hearth! well technically not a Hearth, since it's just Aether and Lumine- but there's MC now. they are referred to as nulls because of the plain white glow that they have on their chests (in this case, MC's hand) and the obvious lack of elemental sigil. still, they're op DSADASK

whenever i'll make more works for this particular au that will be tagged "m-septem", MC is always sorted similarly to the twins, as a 'null' student. unless stated otherwise, ofc! and boy i have a lot of scenarios for septem.

@cherryflushz @e7t3 @scarlet-halos @lordbugs @nebulaera @annoying-and-upset @hanniejji @applepi1415 @tjjjrsj @azirajane @hey-comrade-hold-stil @limelightsuperhero @chloeloe @loptido @windyventi @nejibot @ganyuqrt @justrinnn @yasunamilk @alana5021 @coco-goat-milk @lunastarjay @bambambunny @aryllechan @epioneemersyn @uwu-dreams @yvechu @mininji @o0soup0o @koi-chairowo @www-rosalesluvsyou

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typenull · 4 months

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my laios and kabru dungeon meshi pokemon teams (respectively). explanations for each pick and my general ideas of how they would be as trainers below.

spoiler warning!

first up, laios

laios would be a very very dedicated pokemon trainer, and an avid researcher of pokemon ecology. i think he would be in absolute bliss in the pokemon world, a world where “monsters” and people live and work together in harmony. i wanted to represent his dedication by giving him pokemon that are rare, or take plenty of effort to evolve, either by friendship or by extensive level grinding. i also felt like laios would be fascinated by the concept of shiny hunting, and wanted to reflect this in his team.

his pokemon

silvally: self explanatory, isn't it? reflective of his "awesome monster". it’s a chimera that resents humans based on the circumstance of it’s existence. evolves based on love and true friendship. the absolute epitome of laios’s true identity. they are also both legendary and extremely rare, so this means he had to put in a lot of hard work to get a partner like this.

Through the bond it formed with its Trainer, its will was strengthened, and it was able to destroy its control mask.

The final factor needed to release this Pokémon's true power was a strong bond with a Trainer it trusts.

lycanroc: represents the dogs that raised him in his parent’s absence, and also his true ideal “wolf self”. it's my opinion that the wolf head of laios’s chimera form is the one that most concretely represents laios (it’s missing in earlier portrayals of his chimera form, and is the reason he chooses the wolf cloak when he becomes king.). it is also extremely loyal and protective of those it loves, just like laios.

When properly raised from a young age, it will become a trustworthy partner that will absolutely never betray its Trainer.

pyroar: indicative of the winged lion, obviously, but also a reference to the “main body” of the greek chimera myth. shiny mostly because the colors of the shiny remind me of him more. also male, not just for the mane, but because pyroar is 97.5% female — so this form is very rare! this pokedex entry really reminds me of laios:

The males are usually lazy, but when attacked by a strong foe, a male will protect its friends with no regard for its own safety.

braviary: represents the “eagle head” on his chimera form, and the idea of either a hippogriff or a griffin. braviary evolves extremely late in levels, so owning one is indicative of a lot of time put into training it. and i think laios would really enjoy searching for a shiny rufflet and training it for so long. braviary’s pokedex entries are extremely fitting for his personality, and they even have a connection to royalty, and sometimes even retaliate towards humans:

They fight for their friends without any thought about danger to themselves. One can carry a car while flying.

For the sake of its friends, this brave warrior of the sky will not stop battling, even if injured.

It's thought that people disturbed their habitats in the past, so Braviary banded together to fight back.

Known for its bravery and pride, this majestic Pokémon is often seen as a motif for various kinds of emblems.

hydreigon: not only a dragon, but one with multiple heads! i think laios would really personally resonate with the concept of the hydreigon line. because of this i can imagine himself dedicating himself to raising this “cool” dragon, not just because it’s cool, but because he understands “fighting with yourself/your desires”. on top of all of that, hydreigon have been known to destroy villages and resent human beings:

There are a slew of stories about villages that were destroyed by Hydreigon. It bites anything that moves.

It's said that Hydreigon grew ferocious because people in times long past loathed it, considering it to be evil incarnate and attacking it relentlessly.

It responds to movement by attacking. This scary, three-headed Pokémon devours everything in its path!

aegislash: it’s kensuke! this pokemon feels like it was basically made for laios, and reminds me of dungeon meshi in general. i mean, just look at these pokemon entries:

Apparently, it can detect the innate qualities of leadership. According to legend, whoever it recognizes is destined to become king.

Its potent spectral powers allow it to manipulate others. It once used its powers to force people and Pokémon to build a kingdom to its liking.

aegislash also reminds me of the winged lion, and is representative of not just laios’s eventual position as king, but also his “idealized” leadership as “dungeon master” over the course of the story.

now onto kabru!

as a trainer, in accordance to his position as laios's foil, i'd imagine that kabru would focus much less on pokemon battles and pokemon training. much like his lack of skill when it comes to exploring the dungeon, kabru is very people focused first, and i'd imagine his team is not very strong when it comes to battling... but i still wanted picks that would be indicative of who he is as a person. i'd like to think he acquired most of his pokemon not by the headstrong dedication towards exploration and catching that laios would have, but by making the right connections through trading and making bonds with other people. however, the few that he would have found on his own would be extremely special to him.

his pokemon

stufful: cute and unassuming on the surface, but secretly spiteful and aggressive underneath... it reminds me of kabru a lot. this is also the first in the start of a running theme of plush / toy-like pokemon i incorporated into his team, to represent his childhood being raised by misiril and treated like a "doll". kabru's childhood is something i find very few people take into consideration, but it really changes the way you look at his character...

A touch from anyone except a known friend sends it into a surging frenzy. It's an incredibly dangerous Pokémon. Its fluffy fur is a delight to pet, but carelessly reaching out to touch this Pokémon could result in painful retaliation.

mimikyu: another contribution to the doll-like theme of his team, but also is a pokemon that i feel is most representative of kabru's personality... someone who just wants to be loved and idolizes and takes after another, hiding behind a cute and nice mask, with an unending well of loneliness and a desire to be friends despite feeling like something evil. kabru talks about how he feels like a monster due to his lineage with misiril in his adventure's bible excerpt, and it's always struck powerfully with me. (as a result i can't stand when people make blue eyes jokes about him, lol.) he spends his entire adventure idolizing laios, just wanting to be his friend... (and secretly hating him.) to me, mimikyu is a perfect partner for kabru.

A lonely Pokémon, it conceals its terrifying appearance beneath an old rag so it can get closer to people and other Pokémon. It has taken damage and can no longer hold the head of its cloth disguise upright. For as long as it lives, Mimikyu will never forget its attacker.

mawile: meant to symbolize kabru's "two-faced"ness, and also just seemed like a type i thought he would enjoy. yet another cute looking pokemon to contribute to his team's theme, as well. this pokemon's dex entries mention how it uses it's cute facade to lure in other pokemon, and i thought that was fitting. i also thought it was nice that the jaws are actually horns, playing back into kabru's self-demonization.

Don't be taken in by this Pokémon's cute face—it's very dangerous. Mawile fools the foe into letting down its guard, then chomps down with its massive jaws. The steel jaws are really horns that have been transformed. It has two mouths. The big jaws on the back of its head can't taste anything, so that's the mouth it uses to eat foods it doesn't like.

espurr: a small and cute pokemon that reminded me of misiril, and kabru as a child. i also wanted to include it in order to make it clear that kabru wouldn't always care about fully evolving or training his pokemon, or using anything considered "strong" - since battling wouldn't be his expertise. this is yet another pokemon that seems docile but is secretly holding back dangerous power. i thought that he would resonate with this pokemon's blank and scary stare.

Though Espurr's expression never changes, behind that blank stare is an intense struggle to contain its devastating psychic power.

banette: next to mimikyu, i feel like this pokemon most accurately reflects kabru's past and personality. once again calling back to kabru's unhealthy childhood, and his treatment as an object. originally being a toy itself, banette holds strong grudges against those who have abandoned and wronged it.

An abandoned plush doll became this Pokémon. They are said to live in garbage dumps and wander about in search of the children that threw them away. It's a stuffed toy that was thrown away and became possessed, ever searching for the one who threw it away so it can exact its revenge. Resentment at being cast off made it spring into being. Some say that treating it well will satisfy it, and it will once more become a stuffed toy.

buneary: for his final team member, i knew from the outset that i wanted to include a buneary on his team. buneary is the only pokemon to start off with a base 0 happiness -- and as a result is an extremely hard pokemon to evolve! this also pairs well with the unique move of Frustration - a move that is more powerful the lower a pokemon's happiness. this seemed fitting. i wanted to keep it at a weak stage, but i also enjoy that it's a friendship evolution that he could slowly raise. i made this pokemon shiny partially because i just associate kabru with the color pink, but also because i thought it told a nice story. i liked the idea of kabru finding this equally battle-wary but extremely rare pokemon and slowly having it warm up to him over time, as he slowly learns to trust a "monster" he is somewhat wary of himself.

If both of Buneary's ears are rolled up, something is wrong with its body or mind. It's a sure sign the Pokémon is in need of care.

#dm #dungeon meshi #pokemon

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cannibalsrider · 12 days

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fallen stars scene one Vampire Empire

In the world of Delarus, where regal courts and majestic mislands intertwine, Fallen Stars weaves a tale of passion, sadness, and obsession. At the heart of the story is Lady (Y/N) Shoko, a girl just trying to save not only herself but as many souls as she can before time runs out. The stage is set for an elaborate dance of power, obsession, and secrets.

"In the maze of affection, He finds solace, weaving a web of devotion that traps the object of his desire."

pairings: yandre vampire!gojo x Ieiri! reader

warnings: slight smut but its lowk poorly written since it was my first time and it was from January

A/N: I'm reposting this since I never posted it earlier but this kinda ate I think

“To be the object of his love is to walk on a tightrope between adoration

and danger, with every step a dangerous gamble.”

“Lady Kanna, how lovely to see you!”

The mysterious voice said in a tone too snarky for a lady of Kanna’s class. Kanna looked at the tall figure standing not far from her, his recognizable eyes staring right at her as they stood in the streets below the dreary Keep of RavenStone. Her hands moved to take down the hood of her cloak.

"I should be surprised to see you here? I'd thought you would be cooped up in those dreadful Brothels by this hour," she commented as she moved to draw closer to the man she knew all too well. Even after ages of being stuck at his side, she wished some days she didn't know him just by the look in his eyes.

The mystery man took a step from the wall he was leaning on, the armor he adorned clinking with his movements. "Dear sister, even after all this time, you still choose to think so low of me. Have I not shown you that I haven't wasted my time just paying for pleasures?" he said, shaking his head in a distasteful way. Kanna’s eyes rolled at his voice; she had a feeling inside her that he had gone and done something stupid.

"Even after all this time, somehow you manage to almost blow the cover we have had for years now, Satoru. I know you haven't fed recently. Why are you coming to find me now? You know I don't have anything to offer you," she stated flatly, her accent almost seeming soft in her usual annoyance with her elder brother.

Satoru leaned forward, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "Now, dear sister, don’t assume I need you for something every time we meet. We’ll be meeting much more often, and I’ve had more than my fill with the distasteful blood of the animals harboring within the brothels. Why do you think there’s been no reports?" he said, not revealing his entire motive of finding his sister.

The girl huffed in annoyance as she fiddled with her rings, a nervous habit she had picked up throughout the years. "I'm not surprised you would choose the whores waltzing in and out of the establishments you've visited throughout the past few weeks," she stated almost uncharacteristically calm versus her usual annoyance.

Kanna watched him for a moment, her icy blue eyes looking up at him. "You want something, don't you? Toru, you never seek me out unless it's grown important. I can't help you if it is truly dangerous, as we almost got caught the first time you wanted something big," she told him, suspicion coating her tongue.

Satoru stared at her for a moment, a bored look now adorning his face. "Sister, you are only half right. I sought you out to inform you I am to become the commander of the king's guard and only thought to ask if you knew of any food sources within the house. I am dreadfully tired of drinking the blood of common whores," he said, sticking his tongue out to show his distaste.

She nodded. "I may have a few options you could have," she answered almost in a faint grumble when she heard him announce his move to Commander of the Kingsguard. "You can't climb far in the idea of feeding off any of the royal family. It would be a quick way to have us caught. If you find a way, though, brother, I wouldn't oppose you doing as you wish, as long as I am not an accomplice," she added, her tone almost seeming firm.

A Knight catching her almost piercing gaze traveling the crowd she recognized him in a split second Okkotsu Yuta, the Sworn Guard of the Princess. "I think I might have you a way to get better-tasting blood on your palate," she murmured as she nudged him, the two silver-headed siblings locking eyes onto Okkotsu.

Satoru followed the so-called guard of the princess with an almost thrilled look in his eyes. "And how is he going to get me to the blood of a princess? Don’t tell me my little sister is going to whore herself out," he said, putting a hand on his chest in fake surprise.

She smacked his arm. "Oh, piss off. I'm not a whore. At least I'm not a frequent visitor to all the brothels in the city like you have been," she retorted, her eyes not leaving the ink-black hair she had known as if it was the back of her hand.

"You want an in, don't you, Toru? This is how you get that in," she added quickly as she fixed her silver curls. "This might take a while, so keep yourself busy, you bloody whore," she called out as she made her way towards the brothel she had watched him enter, unclipping the gold clasp keeping her cloak secure on her shoulders.

The hours passed by as if it was sand in an hourglass, his incoherent whimpers and groans filling the room, mixing with Kanna’s moans and whines as they overstimulated one another. His length buried deep inside her core, tears of pleasure brimming at her eyes as she was kept atop of them. The pace of his hips bucking up into her almost transferred her thoughts back into reality – the true meaning of why she was doing this. She had to kill him. Her eyes glassy as she heard his praise falling out incoherently from his lips. “Such a good girl, f’me just like that, pretty girl,” she could make out of the strings of words he spoke. Her lips left sloppy kisses around his carotid artery, her tongue tracing shapes against his throat as she sank her fangs into his neck. The piercing feeling of his flesh against her fangs, the pooling crimson blood filling her senses as she began to drain his body.

Small gulps taking in liters of blood as the man slowly went silent, his body growing cold, a final breath being drawn from his body. The satisfaction shown with the grin on her blood-stained lips, dismounting the now ice-cold Okkotsu. “Such a shame you had to die, you’d been so handsome,” she mumbled, dressing quickly, making herself look decent, throwing the cloak over her shoulders, clasping the gold sigil of House Gojo. Her blue eyes trained on the brothel frequenters, eyeing her as if she was their prey. She had made her way out of the poorly lit establishment, rain pelting down. She wasn't sure how long she had been with the knight; all she had known was it grew later and later by the second. She had to find her elder brother before it had grown too late for her to find him in the winding streets of Troria.

Satoru watched his sister trace after the knight with an almost disgusted look. Sure, he’s done the same thing, but watching your younger sister go to do it with some knight is gross. Having watched his sister enter the brothel, he sighed, choosing to turn around and continue his patrol and other meaningless tasks that a king's guard was tasked with. The cold chill of the night left Satoru time to think, a dangerous thing.

The man walked down a familiar path one has walked for ages, the clicking of his armor and the sound of the wind the only thing to be heard. “Riko… Why did you half go and die on me?” Satoru sighed for the hundredth time tonight. The path he's walking is one filled with dying flowers and decrepit houses aged by time, the same path he met who was supposed to be the love of his life. Years and years before he became the monster he is today, before the streets of Troria became waste-filled streets, before the Fushiguro family became the royal family.

The time when he and his sister were humans, humans with blood pumping in their veins who ate normal food, who could die. That's when he met Riko. She had just stolen something from a shop no longer around, the dirt from the ground staining the front of her skirt. Something about her drew Satoru to her. “Now, stealing isn’t very ladylike, now is it?” he asked, stepping in front of the girl, causing her to take a large step back. “Excuse me, as you can see, I am currently running from someone – hey, wait, how do you know I stole this?” Riko asked with an annoyed tone on her tongue. “Satoru, HEY, earth to Satoru!?” Kanna yelled, trying to get her brother out of whatever dream he was in.

Satoru, having been torn from his memory, almost hurt his sister, having been spooked, grabbing his sword hilt from his side, his armor making a loud noise in response to the speedy movement. “Jesus, Kanna, are you trying to have me kill you?!?” he whispered, sweat dropping at the annoyed look on her face. She scanned his eyes for a moment before speaking. “Not even a ‘thank you sister for opening up a spot for me to have access to good food.’ It's as if you're ungrateful,” she grumbled as she adjusted her cloak hood over her silver hair. “You looked as if you’ve seen someone we know, Toru. What's wrong?” she asked, concern almost lacing her tone as she looked up at her elder brother, almost with more curiosity than concern.

He stared at her for a moment, trying to clear his mind completely of the memory. “Nothing, sister, just thinking of when we were human, when this city used to be lively, pretty,” a reminiscent tone laced his tongue. Satoru often thought of before the city was the way it was now, back to when she was still alive. Kanna nodded as she listened to him speak, a sense of understanding between the Gojo siblings. “I'll assume you had been thinking about Amani again?” she breathed, almost a hint of annoyance at the reminder of the past. “You'll find someone, Toru, especially in the keep. It wouldn't surprise me if you found someone better than she had been,” she added, almost trying to reassure him so he didn't forget the task at hand. Satoru nodded along, deciding she was right. “Yeah, I guess you're right. Anyway, I have to go; my coronation is tomorrow, and I still have to feed. I’ll see you soon, dear sister,” he said, turning around, and throwing his hand up in a sign of goodbye. Kanna watched him leave, worried her brother would never find someone else. “Yes, goodbye, Toru,” she said, knowing Satoru had not heard her, for he was lost in his search for food.

And finally, within the last few hours of the night, both Gojo siblings went to sleep, one ready for his coronation, the other worried for her brother.

#jujutsu kaisen #fanfiction #gojo satoru #vampire gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #aged up characters #yuta x reader kinda #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #pls like this #im begging

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