#Note(2/2): that's why I referred to her as him for this specific step | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mikashisus · 1 month

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Thus Always to Tyrants

"i hope you live a life you're proud of. if you find you're not, i hope you have the strength to start all over again."

— f. scott fitzgerald

chapter 2 (part 1) wc: 16k

author’s notes: timeline is in chronological order from now on bc i confused myself with the mixed one 😵‍💫

madge venti is sm fun to write, esp since i think he deserves to go batshit crazy in canon (in his archon form specifically. — hyv PLEASE LET HIM).

insert curious venti who wants to know more about this person who is causing trouble and messing with time and he doesn’t realize he’s falling.

ik some of yall didnt want her to come back, but the og cryo archon is making a return bc she actually plays a huge part in this fic and i planned a long time ago for her to play this part.

enjoy!

previous chapter

CHAPTER II: i loved you like the sun (part I)

The winds grew restless as a powerful storm began to brew overhead. You were mounted in place as you stared at the god before you, who right now, was beyond furious. He seethed with anger, his shoulders heaving as he tried to steady his breathing.

“Why didn’t you go back…?” his voice was shaky, teetering between the lines of concern and something greater, something darker.

Amidst the tempest winds, you couldn’t find an answer to his question, coming up empty as you tried to think of why you hadn’t taken the chance to go back through that gate.

You’d never see your friends or family ever again. You’d have to spend the rest of your life stuck here, in a timeline that you didn’t come from.

“I… I don’t–” you trailed off, your voice failing you.

You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel his fury radiating off of his slender body, and it terrified you.

You’ve never heard of any instances where Barbatos had gotten angry or even remotely upset. Every record of him in Mondstadt’s history told of the kind and gentle archon who always treated humanity with a sort of fondness. He referred to the people of Mondstadt as his children for goodness sake.

Every bone in your body rattled as the winds around you whipped violently. You were at a loss for words as you stood before him, your jaw hung open in absolute disbelief. As soon as he made eye contact with you, a sharp shiver ran down your spine, and you suddenly wished you had passed through that gate.

His eyes glowed, as they usually did, but this time with an inexplicable anger. His brows knitted together, and the way his lip curled up into a snarl was frightening.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done!?” he roared, the winds matching his fury. “Do you have any idea how lucky you were that you had a chance to go back home!?”

You were left utterly speechless as he continued to yell at you.

“I’d give anything to go back! ANYTHING! And you just– you threw your chance away!” His voice cracked as he began to calm down. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes, and for a moment, you thought that he was going to hurt you.

That thought was incredulous, and made you realize that there was so much more for you to learn about the Anemo Archon– more specifically, Barbatos, the god behind that title.

As soon as the winds tempered and the rising tornadoes slowed to soft breezes, Barbatos’ eyes widened significantly. The look of pure terror on your face made him pause for a moment, and before you could take a step closer to him and try to explain yourself, he shied away.

His wings twitched and he didn’t meet your eyes as he muttered, “I just… yelled at a child of Mondstadt…” he gripped at his scalp, the guilt and regret from his former actions filling him up to the brim.

You stepped forward, attempting to reach out to him, but he immediately outstretched his wings, flying away before you could touch him, leaving behind a huge gust of wind and feathers in his wake.

Back in the city, the festivities for the Windblume Festival were still in full swing. You weighed your options in your head, wondering if you should continue to party with the rest of the town, or if you should find lodging and call it a day. Based on the recent events with Barbatos, you thought it wise to go and find lodging instead of giving in to temptation and continuing drinking.

However, you still hadn’t processed the reality you were living in, and decided to drink away your sorrows just this once. One time couldn’t hurt… right?

Grabbing a random bottle from a table that Lawrence and his sister occupied, you popped the cork and downed a few gulps. Lawrence cheered at the sight, rising to his feet and clapping obnoxiously. The rest of the table joined in, and as soon as you removed the bottle from your wine coated lips, you gasped for air.

You searched for the label on the bottle, a feeling of familiarity welling within you at the aftertaste of the wine. You’ve had this before.

“A toast to the lovely lady, (Name)!” Lawrence, drunk off his ass, yelled. The rest of the table whooped and cheered before returning to their own conversations.

In your peripherals, something red caught your eye. A gentle hand rested on the small of your back as another took the bottle from your hand. A deep, soothing voice filled your ears.

“I believe you’ve had enough Thousand Wind Wine for tonight, My Lady.”

Looking up, you felt the air get knocked out of your lungs. You had to be dreaming… there was no way that Diluc had followed you here, right?

Before you could speak his name, the man placed the bottle back onto the table and ushered you away to a calmer, quieter atmosphere. Now, the two of you stood right in front of the cathedral, overlooking the loud partygoers at the foot of the Barbatos statue.

“You look at me as if you’ve seen a ghost,” the man beside you said, keeping a reasonable distance so as to not make you uncomfortable.

You swallowed thickly, nervously fiddling with your hands. “My apologies, I was just caught off guard.”

You could tell that he called your bluff with the way he hummed noncommittally, but he didn’t pry any further. You wanted so desperately to ask about the wine’s name, so you did.

“What is Thousand Wind Wine?” you questioned softly, your voice a little hoarse from all the alcohol you consumed tonight.

The redheaded man looked at you as if you had two heads. “You are a child of Mond, yet you do not know of Thousand Wind Wine?” You kept your lips pursed. At your silence, he briefly sighed. “It is made with the basis of dandelion seeds. The rest of the ingredients can be decided upon by the brewer. I brewed that bottle, therefore I used dandelion seeds, wolfhook, and a few other berries.”

Thousand Wind Wine was just like Dandelion Wine, just made a little differently. You came to the conclusion that it was most likely the original name for dandelion wine.

“You are not from Mond, are you? Not this one, at least.” The man questioned, glancing at you with a knowing look. “I apologize for eavesdropping, but I was there when you spoke with Lord Barbatos.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. You sighed heavily, “So you know then…” you turned to look at him, only to see remnants of guilt in his crimson eyes— eyes that looked so much like—

“You remind me of someone,” you muttered. “That’s why I choked up when I saw you. Your— most likely—descendant, Diluc… he’s like my brother. I’d recognize him anywhere… he looks so much like you, that it threw me off.”

He nodded solemnly. “I see.” It was silent for a moment. “How is my family faring in the future?”

Sighing, you leaned against the stone railing of the small balcony. “Diluc is the last of your bloodline. Master Crepus passed a few years ago. We were only eighteen.” You blinked back tears as you remembered the man that treated you like his own daughter.

“Would you mind indulging me in some happier stories?” the man asked, not wanting to make you cry.

You laughed softly and nodded. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

The man smiled, and it was then that you realized just how similar Diluc was to him. “There is no need to apologize. It was I who brought up terrible memories for you. Please, do not blame yourself.”

Entranced by his gentleness and charm, you relaxed and returned his smile. Taking a deep breath, you decided to tell a story from your childhood.

“There was this one time that Diluc, Kaeya, and I tried to steal a barrel from Master Crepus’ reserves—“

Landing on the soft brush of Mt. Aocang, Barbatos felt a sense of relief wash over him. He raised his head, watching as the first signs of dawn crept over the horizon.

The view was magnificent from this height, and he suddenly remembered why he decided to include wings in his godly form.

He liked feeling weightless. He liked feeling free. He liked being able to soar through the skies like a bird, an animal that his friend once dreamt of seeing one day.

“I do hope you’ve come here regarding serious matters, and not to pull tomfoolery like you usually do.”

The commanding voice of Rex Lapis drew him out of his daze. He smirked as he turned around, only to be met by intimidating amber eyes and a very unimpressed Geo Archon.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, old friend—“

“I’d say we are hardly the like.” Morax seethed.

Ah, Barbatos almost forgot. This brute was still very much a hothead. He was a blubbering buffoon that was still in his prime and at the end of the day, was still the one that hurled mountains at Barbatos during the Archon War not too long ago.

“Come now, we’re friends aren’t we?” Barbatos took a seat at the table Morax was occupying. “After all, I sent you a whole month’s worth of the finest wine my children have brewed! I don’t do that for just anyone!” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Makoto giggled, “I would like to try some too, Barbatos! If you’re willing to share. I could send some Inazuman sake to Mondstadt for you as a ‘thank you.’”

Barbatos gasped and abruptly grabbed the woman’s hand enthusiastically. “Of course! Why, the Windblume Festival is occurring right now! I shall send you the finest wines Mondstadt has to offer! I look forward to trying this ‘sake’ you speak of!”

A tall figure sat down in the last open seat, placing a plate of baklava in front of Barbatos. The calming voice of Rukkhadevata entered his ears, “Wine, you say? What would you consider the best out of every brew that Mondstadt makes?”

Barbatos smiled at his newfound friend. Out of all of The Seven, Rukkhadevata was the most delightful to have a conversation with. He entertained her, “My personal favorite is Thousand Wind Wine, made with dandelion seeds. It is a trademark of my nation. Would you like me to send you wine as well?”

Rukkhadevata nodded, a gentle yet eager smile pulling at her lips. “Of course. As a gift, I’ve brought baklava for everyone here to try. For our friends who could not attend this get-together, I have sent the same to their nations.”

Barbatos would’ve loved to try the delicious treat in front of him gifted to him by his dear friend, but so many thoughts were plaguing his mind, drawing his attention away from the food and stripping him of his appetite.

“I came here for a deeper reason than just to see all of you,” he said, his expression turning serious. “Someone passed through the gate…”

There were three varying reactions from his fellow archons. Morax’s eyes slightly widened in surprise, Makoto gasped as a hand rose to cover her mouth, and Rukkhadevata simply hummed in understanding.

“I had assumed as much,” she sighed softly, closing her eyes. “As soon as I felt the change in Irminsul, I immediately rushed to see what had caused it. …How could this have happened?”

Barbatos clenched his hands into fists as he gripped at his exposed thighs. The glowing marking on his thigh did little to soothe him. If anything, it only served to mock him and his foolish actions.

“I can only assume that my future self failed to prevent it from happening. How? I don’t know…” he muttered, staring into the stone table.

Rukkhadevata placed a comforting hand on one of his clenched fists. The whitening of his knuckles served as confirmation that he was frustrated about this whole ordeal. She gently grabbed his hand, forcing his fingers to unclench. She rubbed soothing circles into his now reddened palm with her thumb, brushing over the crescent shaped markings he created.

“Self deprecation will only make you feel worse, Barbatos.” She calmly stated. Her soft tone made his shoulders relax and his wings drop to the ground. He was no longer tense. “Do not blame yourself for this. It was an accident, and accidents happen all the time. You can’t save everyone, and even though it hurts to hear, it is true.”

He knew she was right. She was the god of wisdom, after all.

He refused to let himself cry in front of anyone. He wouldn’t let anyone know just how much he was hurting, especially not his dear friends.

“Oh, Barbatos…” A soft hand was placed on his cheek, and upon feeling a small spark of electricity shock his skin, he knew it was Makoto’s. “It’s okay to cry. Let your emotions show. We are no judges here.”

“Egeria would be, if she were here,” Rukkhadevata joked softly, earning a slight chuckle from Barbatos at the thought.

His smile prompted the others to smile. If Barbatos was happy, then everything was okay. If he was upset, that would spell out disaster. All of The Seven were aware of this fact. Barbatos was like the glue holding them all together. He was the sole reason there was peace between them, and the reason they all held these get-togethers.

“How long has it been since we’ve last seen her?” he wondered aloud, only for Makoto to give an answer.

“A few months, at most. She’s been quite busy recently.”

Morax sent Makoto a confused look. “You keep in contact? Fontaine is a long way from Inazuma.”

Makoto giggled, “I have my ways of communication.”

“Do not sound so malicious, Baal.” Rukkhadevata scolded, though the words held no weight. The two of them held each other’s gazes before they burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

A cold, piercing voice cut through the airy atmosphere the four gods had created. “Do the three of you have no semblance of shame?” The feminine voice questioned in distaste.

Barbatos perked up at the voice, his eyes practically sparkling in delight as he watched the elegant figure grow closer to the table. Morax pulled a chair up for her in between him and Makoto, but she simply formed her own chair out of ice directly between Makoto and Barbatos.

Makoto’s hand retracted from Barbatos’ cheek, and instead was replaced by a chillingly icy touch. “Continue, Barbatos. Let off everything that is on your chest.”

Barbatos sighed heavily, melting into her touch even though it sent a sharp shiver down his spine. He was cold, but he could bear it if it was her. He always could. He smiled at the touch, his cerulean eyes boring into her sapphire colored ones. She could always tell when there was more that he wished to say.

“The girl had the chance to return to her time…” he trailed off, his voice small as the others stared at him, giving him their full attention. “But… at the last moment, she… she didn’t. She stayed, and I– …I lashed out at her. I didn’t mean to lose my temper with a child of Mondstadt, but I did… and I–”

“You regret it.” The Cryo Archon answered for him.

Barbatos’ lip trembled. He pulled his face away from her hand and sighed. “I don’t know what to do. The only chance I had to save her is gone. She’s stuck here forever.”

A tense silence passed over them before Makoto spoke gently. “Did you ask why she chose to stay?”

He nodded. “She didn’t answer… well, I think she was too scared of me to get a single word out.” His voice trembled with guilt.

“Darling,” The Cryo Archon placed a finger under Barbatos’ chin, turning his head to face her again. “Everything will be okay.”

“What do I do?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The Cryo Archon smiled sweetly at him. He loved her smile— it was so fitting for the god of love. “Apologize for the outburst, but make sure she is okay. I can’t imagine this is easy for her.”

Barbatos nodded. “The next time I see her, I will.”

“Good. Now here,” Rukkhadevata smiled as she handed him a plate of baklava.

You didn’t know how to pass the time. Barbatos told you to meet him at Windrise so he could speak with you, but that would be at sundown. You had about two hours to kill until then.

The stone arch you passed through stood tall and proud in the exact same position it was always in. You stood before it, waiting to hear the small whisper of a voice that would call out to you and urge you closer. However, there was no such whisper.

Placing your fingers on the odd markings lining the stone, you found that they no longer glowed underneath your touch. It was as if the whole thing had been a dream. The only way you could tell that it hadn’t been was your surroundings.

Taking a leap of faith, you stepped through to the other side, wondering if you’d feel that odd tumbling feeling again, as if you were falling down a hole. You didn’t. Nothing changed. The city was still young, and so was the nation.

“You appear lost and confused.” A voice whispered.

You whirled around to find where it came from, only to see that you were still alone. A shiver crept up your spine as you could suddenly feel the presence of something all around you, the force overwhelming. Yet, you couldn’t see a thing.

It almost sounded as if it was coming from inside your head. “Changing the past and altering the future are two unachievable things… yet you pulled it off without so much as a flick of your wrist.”

Your brows furrowed. “Who are you?” you demanded, your heartbeat roaring in your ears as you continued to search for the owner of the voice.

“You need not know who I am, and you needn’t search for me. The only thing that matters is that I know you.”

Another shiver ran up your spine, and you shuddered. “That doesn’t make me feel any better. Are you… a god?”

The voice chuckled softly, “Such an interesting question. Consider me a passerby.” The feminine voice paused for a moment. “It is fate that we meet like this again. And it is coincidental that you have asked me the same questions you did before.”

Confusion brewed within you. You gave up on searching for the source of the voice, and instead focused your gaze to the city sitting upon the lake. “We’ve met?”

“In a distant dream. Or perhaps you could say… in a memory.”

Whoever this was, they weren’t intending on telling you their true identity. Nor were they intent on revealing themselves to you. All you had was a voice speaking inside your head.

You sighed. “I think I would remember a voice like yours speaking inside my head like this,” you crossed your arms over your chest. “Why are you here? What are your reasons for hiding yourself from me?”

“Those who are lost need to be guided back home, do they not? You are lost, and you are far from home. And I am a guide.”

“Is there any way I can get back home?” you questioned.

You were holding onto a slim bit of hope that she would say yes. You hadn’t taken the chance to go home when it was presented to you, and your actions were slowly catching up to you.

The more you thought about the reality of your situation and the consequences of your own actions, the more you wished you could go back home. You didn’t have a future here, and you couldn’t keep messing with the past like you have been doing.

“Home. What does home mean to you?”

Struck with that question, you remained silent as you thought it over. What did home mean to you? Was it a place? A person? A thing? You had never once thought about it before.

You always assumed that home was your childhood home in Springvale, and the apartment you rented out above the jewelry shop in the city once you turned eighteen. It had been that small home on the coast of the beach that one summer when you and your mother had taken a vacation to Fontaine.

It was that cottage in the mountains Northeast of the City of Mondstadt near Dornman Port, when your older brother had been stationed there for half a year. It was your host family’s house in Inazuma City when you studied abroad in the Spring one semester.

Those were all places you had considered home at one point in time. Home wasn’t just one place for you. It was a bunch of places, but perhaps it was also the people around you. Your mother, your brother, your friends back in the present, your friends from overseas, and the two black cats your brother took in after they kept coming back to his porch everyday.

Maybe home was wherever you went. Maybe it was your heart.

“I suppose… it’s wherever I go.”

“Then do you consider this past your home too? It is Mondstadt, is it not?”

You rubbed your temples in frustration. “But I don’t belong here! In this timeline! I belong in the present.”

There was a small beat of silence. “Fate is your true home. You have run from it before, and you will continue to do so in the future. But you must remember: you cannot change your fate.”

“What does this have to do with me going home!?” You were beginning to get a little irritated now. Her ominous behavior and her incredulous words were hurting your brain. None of this was making any sense at all. “What does this have to do with what I asked?”

The voice sighed. “Your answers never change, and your searching for an escape never ends. Greed will inevitably lead to your ruination.”

You felt even more lost than a moment ago. She was dodging your questions, and she wasn’t giving you any clear answers. As far as you knew, it was all gibberish. There were underlying meanings to her words, that much you were aware of, but none of it made sense to you.

It was all going in one ear and out the other.

“Your choices thus far have affected your future. If you continue to make the same final choice that you have been, then this cycle of your damnation will persist, and you will be left to an eternity of chasing a fate that will never be within reach.”

The overwhelming presence around you dissipated, and the wind that had once ceased was now picking up again. You stared out at the city, repeating her words over and over again in your mind.

Eternal damnation? What did that mean? And more importantly: what did she mean by ‘the cycle will persist’?

There were so many questions left unanswered, and you felt even more lost than you were before. She called herself a guide, yet she did nothing to help you along at all. Because of that, you felt as if she was far from a guide. All she did was speak in riddles that you couldn’t understand, ones that made absolutely zero sense whatsoever. Usually you loved riddles, but these were a kind you simply couldn’t solve.

You didn’t mention the voice you heard to Barbatos, and you definitely didn’t mention the mysterious note that appeared in your pocket after your conversation with the aforementioned voice.

“Barbatos is not who he says he is.”

You didn’t know what to make of the elegant words written on that small piece of paper. What did it mean? Was the Anemo Archon not to be trusted? That was what it was sounding like, but you weren’t entirely sure. It wasn’t like you could ask anyone, especially the ominous voice that spoke to you.

“Thank you for meeting me here, (Name).” He said softly, a small innocent smile pulling at his lips. It seemed forced, though you didn’t comment on that.

You sat down in front of the Statue of The Seven and pulled your knees up to your chest. Barbatos inhaled and closed his eyes, taking in the scent of nearby windwheel asters and the serenity of a fresh gust of wind. Then, he took a seat next to you, one of his wings falling to rest on the stone behind you.

It was silent for a few minutes as the both of you relished in your peaceful surroundings and the serene weather. It was the perfect day for a walk around Falcon Coast. Sometimes, on Kaeya’s days off, the two of you would take a relaxing stroll on the beach, letting the cool water lap at your bare feet. He would share stories about the Knights, ranging from funny and embarrassing moments with the rookies, to serious drama happening between a few of the captains.

You would silently listen, occasionally giving your input when he asked for it. When you got tired of walking, the two of you would sit down in the sand and talk some more, filling the air with loud laughter and enjoying each other’s presence.

Today reminded you of one of those days. A sense of longing filled your chest as you realized you would never get to experience that again.

“I’m sorry,” Barbatos’ mutter brought you out of your stupor. Surprised, you turned your head to look at him. His aqua eyes were downcast, avoiding your gaze, and his brows were furrowed together in guilt. His voice was small, shaky. He curled in on himself somewhat, resembling a hurt dove lying in the grass.

“For raising my voice and getting angry with you. I shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t right of me to do. Please accept my heartfelt apologies, and I promise to be a better Arch–”

You turned your whole body to face him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Stop. You don’t need to promise me or the people of Mondstadt anything. Do you know how much you’ve done for us already? How much you’ll do in the future? You are already an exceptional Archon. You protect us time and time again, and you care for us like no other Archon has. So… you don’t need to promise anything, because– because you’re already amazing.”

His head whipped up, his eyes blown wide with surprise. You immediately retracted your hand from his shoulder and bowed your head. “I-I’m sorry for touching you, I–”

Two gentle hands grabbed your cheeks and lifted your face to meet his warm, welcoming smile. “Please, do not be frightened. I am no different from you. I make mistakes and I am flawed. Do not treat me differently from anyone else just because I am a god.” His soothing voice and comforting words were enough to make you relax a little.

He chuckled softly, “You remind me of someone… A boy I met once.” There was a deep sadness that reflected in his eyes as he said this.

Your mother always told you that eyes were windows into the soul. You searched his eyes, looking deeper to find the source of the immense sadness that Barbatos was feeling. This was clearly a touchy topic for him to talk about, yet he brought it up anyway. The wound had not healed yet, and maybe it never would…

“He was just like you… a beautiful soul with a heart made of gold and a determined fire in his eyes,” he continued, looking far off into the distance as dandelion seeds rose up in the wind. He handed you a windwheel aster he had plucked earlier, and you watched as the petals twirled in the breeze. He sighed heavily, a solemn smile gracing his pale lips. “The most beautiful people leave us in such cruel ways… and way too soon.”

Nodding, you hummed in agreement. Taking the flower from his fingers, you traced your finger over the soft petals and thought of the many people you’ve lost in your own life. All of them were compassionate people with beautiful souls. They were taken away too soon for you to process, and even now, you couldn’t come to terms with the reality of their deaths.

“To a god, time may seem indefinite… but it can feel way too short all at the same time.” He muttered, letting out another sigh as he stretched his legs out in front of him. In a flash of light and whirling feathers, his appearance changed.

He was no longer adorned in those white garments he always seemed to wear. Instead, he was now wearing a getup akin to a bard’s. You knew this bard form better than anyone in this time period. It was the form he used to disguise himself in the modern day. The reason behind why he walked among mortals even though he was a god was unknown to you.

But there was one thing you knew for sure: you loved his songs.

Studying your expression, he smiled. “You seem to recognize this form of mine. I take it that it has not changed in the future?”

The frown on your face deepened at his words. Noticing this, his smile abruptly dropped. “Indeed, though there are some minor differences.” You couldn’t help the slight animosity in your tone as you thought of the last conversation you had with Venti. More like the last argument.

Barbatos was silent for a moment. When you met his eyes again, he was still frowning. “Your tone suggests that you are not so fond of the future me…”

You scoffed, “You could say that. You’ve been nothing but a dick to me ever since I met you.” It went silent again, and as soon as you registered what you had just said, a loud gasp escaped your lips.

Had you really just talked to him like that? Had you really just said that to his face? Him, the Anemo Archon.

As you whirled around to apologize profusely and even beg on your knees for his forgiveness for how you spoke to him, he promptly hummed. He seemed a little lost in thought as he processed your words. Eventually, he exhaled deeply in disappointment.

“Though it doesn’t make sense why I would treat such a lovely maiden that way, I am deeply sorry for my behavior. I hope you can forgive me for how I’ve treated you in both this timeline, and your own.” He held your gaze as he spoke, his eyes filled with guilt and sorrow. “You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”

Barbatos was oddly human, even though he was a god. Just like he stated before, he also made mistakes and had many flaws. He was just as much a sinner as anyone else. He felt emotion like everyone else–pain, suffering, grief, joy, fear, anger, sorrow.

He was just like you, and that revelation made you feel more comfortable around him than before. It would take you a bit to get used to the fact that he was a god, but once that went away, you could completely relax whenever he was present. Until that day came, you’d have to remind yourself of how human he was.

This time, with a bit of confidence, you took his hands into yours. His palms were soft, but you couldn’t help but notice how calloused his fingers were. You suspected it was because of how much he played the lyre.

“I forgive you,” you said. “Well, I forgive you for raising your voice with me. It might take me a bit to forgive all that you did to me in the future.”

He nodded “I understand.”

With a small smile of reassurance, you said, “How about we start over?” His aqua eyes met yours. They sparkled with delight and something else you couldn’t decipher. “My name is (Name). I am a child of Mondstadt, and my favorite thing to drink is the fresh beer my brother brews every year during Weinlesefest.”

He chuckled and cleared his throat. He sat up straight and smirked, “Well… my name is–” he paused for a moment, a frown pulling at his lips as he brought a finger to his chin in thought.

“How about the name Venti?” You suggested, thinking of the jovial bard that you saw from afar back in your own time.

He snapped his fingers and laughed, “That’s perfect! You have an eye for names, my dear.” He smirked again, knocking his shoulder with yours, causing you to giggle softly. He took your hands into his. “I am also from Mondstadt, and I may or may not be the Anemo Archon… don’t tell Mondstadt though!”

You couldn’t help but giggle again at his playful tone. Was this what it was like to have a real conversation with him? This… freeing?

“The wonderful taste of Thousand Wind Wine brings me ease. It is undoubtedly the best brew that Mondstadters make!” The pride in his voice was very much evident, and you could see it in his eyes: the unconditional love for his people. “I suppose the wind is also one of my favorite things.”

Just then, a gust of wind blew his hair around, and he laughed joyfully. “As long as the winds blow, as long as endless spring engulfs this nation… Mondstadt will stand tall and proud as a beacon of hope and freedom for all.”

The determination in his eyes upon uttering those words was admirable. The Anemo Archon undoubtedly represented how an Archon should act and think. He was picture perfect, though that didn’t mean that he was exempt from having any flaws.

“‘As long as the wind will blow, Barbatos will protect Mondstadt.’ That is what my father always told me before his passing.” You muttered, relishing in the late afternoon breeze.

Venti stared at you for a moment, his eyes wide. You chuckled, “Are his words that surprising? Your people love you dearly.”

He looked away, a small smile on his lips. “I’m just not used to it is all; you know, all this praise and adoration. It leaves me baffled. But… I can confidently say that I love my people just as dearly.”

“I’ve never heard of an Archon loving their people so much that they refer to them as their ‘children.’ You truly are an astounding Archon.”

Venti turned to you with a warm smile. “Of course I love my people. I adore them, in fact. I wish to see my people happy and free without the pressure of living under the rule of a god. I wish to live peacefully alongside them someday. I adore all of humanity, each and every side to it; The bad, the good, the dirty… all of it. The flaws that encompass humanity are what make them have the power to rival the gods.”

The power to rival the gods? What did that mean? You decided not to think about it for now, and instead relished in the soothing voice of the man next to you.

“May I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone carrying a sense of seriousness in it. When you nodded, he pursed his lips. “Why did you choose to stay here?”

Ah, there it was… the question you still couldn’t provide an answer to. The less you thought about your reality, the less it pained you to realize everything that you lost by staying here. Ignorance was bliss. You knew that eventually, the weight of the situation would come back to bite you, but for now, you’d ignore it all and try not to think about it.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes. “I truly don’t have an answer to that. I think that maybe… maybe I decided to stay because I need some sort of closure, I guess. I know that doesn’t really explain anything, but… that’s a good enough answer I can give at the moment.”

He didn’t press you further, and you took that as him being satisfied with your answer. However, when you studied the stoic expression on his face, you were doubting if that was true.

“I don’t mean to scare you more than you probably already are, but… do you understand the severity of your choices?” He paused to let his words sink in. “Do you understand how much of an impact this will have on the future? You have interacted with me, Lawrence, Ragnvindr… and many others. You have altered the course of history, changed what was originally written in Irminsul.”

He turned to you, his brows furrowed in slight irritation. “I don’t mean to be harsh, but I must say this to make you understand: The way you have changed history since coming here is utterly unforgivable. Time is sensitive, and messing with it is dangerous. It can cause immense repercussions to those who dare alter it.” His tone was even, firm. He wasn’t joking around.

He wasn’t leaving this open for discussion… He was forcing you to understand just how serious this was.

You gulped as his intense stare sent a shiver down your spine. He continued, “Every action, every word that flows from your tongue has a consequence. Everything will affect the future. Each word you’ve said to me, each drink you’ve shared with Lawrence. Time is not your plaything. Everything that has happened in the last hour, the last day, the last week, has already changed what will happen in the future. Do not stay ignorant. Do not brush these words off. Please heed my warnings, and understand just how serious this is.”

He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but he wanted you to take accountability for the things you have changed. Although part of it was also technically his fault because he pushed you through the portal, you were the one who decided not to return back from whence you came.

His gaze hardened. “I will say it again: Do you understand?”

The air around you grew silent and tense as he softly uttered those words. You nodded, “Yes.”

You didn’t see him for three weeks after that, and you couldn’t get the words written on that mysterious note out of your head, as well as that feminine voice that warned you of your fate.

“Barbatos is not who he says he is.”

You spent the next few weeks accommodating to your new life, though it was harder than you imagined. The weight of your reality settled heavy upon your shoulders, and to rid yourself of the feeling, you drowned your sorrows away with alcohol.

Angel’s Share did not exist in this timeline, but there was still a tavern in Mondstadt. Mondstadters were known for their love of alcohol. The nation itself was known for its many taverns, love of music, and its many bards that roamed the land. The tavern near the cathedral was bigger than Angel’s Share– significantly so –and was owned by a poor family known as the Blair family.

The head of the family was a kind man by the name of August. He was often seen bartending with his two sons, Klaus and Alaric.

His darling daughter, Guinevere, was a waitress whom many adored. Her long, oak brown hair fell along her back in elegant waves. Her verdant eyes shone with sparkling curiosity and hope. She had a lean figure, and her stature was no more than most of the women in the city. Her hair was often pulled back into a low ponytail, with her platinum colored bangs framing her pale face.

Her apron was always discarded somewhere behind the counter, leaving her in a white button-up blouse with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and black fitted pants. She appeared more masculine than feminine with this look, but it suited her well nonetheless. At least she was more presentable than her brothers. Their hair was always unkempt and their shirts were wrinkled. It was obvious they had little to no care for their appearances.

After becoming a regular at the North Wind Tavern, you quickly learned that their mother had passed away in the battle against Decarabian. She had been one of the fighters on the front lines, with a bard whose name was completely unfamiliar to you, and an archer named Amos. Unfortunately, all three of those people had perished.

Spending another one of your nights in this tavern, you decided to ask Guinevere a question that was on your mind for some time now.

“Say, Gwen…” you got her attention as she set down a glass of Thousand Wind Wine in front of you. She hummed, sending you a kind smile. The harmonious sound of a bard strumming a lyre could be heard from the far end of the tavern. “Where does the inspiration for this tavern’s name come from?”

“Oh!” A brilliant smile graced her lips as she clasped her hands behind her back and bounced on the balls of her feet excitedly. “Have you not heard the tale of the North Wind?”

With a shake of your head, you waited for her to tell you the tale. She pulled out the wooden chair across from you and sat down, leaning her elbows on the table.

“The Tale of the North Wind is one every child of Mondstadt knows. At least, those from the Western most part of Mondstadt. My family, the Blairs, were once ardent worshippers of the god of memories. She was a kindhearted, gentle soul who adored humanity and wished to set us free from the shackles of the harsh weather that engulfed the land. She was so powerful that she even challenged Boreas himself, though the two had no real qualms with each other.

“She worked hard to protect her people from the evil clutches of Decarabian, but she couldn’t protect everyone. My family was amongst those who were kidnapped by the evil tyrant and brought to live under his rule. However, we never lost faith in Queen Catalina. We continued to pray and hope for her protection and guidance– the guidance of the North Wind.

“She was often referred to by other gods as “The North Wind,” because of her standing in Mondstadt– the Crown of the North –and because she was a god who had control over the Anemo element. But alas, the tale of the humble and gentle Queen of the North Wind would meet its end. She perished after the death of Decarabian.”

You leaned forward in your chair, circling the rim of your glass with your finger. You had already downed it in the short time that Gwen was telling her story. “What happened to her? How did she die?”

Gwen sighed heavily, placing her chin in her palm. “That’s a bit complicated. No one resided in her territory by the time of Decarabian’s death, so no one really knows for certain how she died. However, there are speculations that she gave up her mortal body so that Lord Barbatos could become the Anemo Archon. There are some theories floating about that say her spirit merged with the wind, and that she and Lord Barbatos share a deep connection. But… there’s not really any proof of such claims.”

“I see.” You didn’t know what to make of that. After all, most of Mondstadt’s history had been lost after its extensive library had been burned to the ground hundreds of years ago. You hadn’t even known that there was a god residing in Mondstadt other than Boreas and Decarabian.

“There’s nothing we can really do about it, I guess.” Gwen sighed and stood up. “At least the Thousand Winds of Time are still with us.” She swiftly grabbed your empty glass and sent you a wink. “I’ll get you another glass.”

When she came back, you had more questions. She laughed loudly at your next one. “Are you sure you’re from Mondstadt? Every child of the Wind knows who the Lady of the Thousand Winds of Time is! She’s the one who watched over Queen Catalina for a time, and she’s also said to have a very deep connection to the Anemo Archon. The Lawrence family is working on building an extravagant temple for her as we speak.”

Suddenly, it all clicked. The Thousand Winds Temple was a temple built for– presumably –another god in Mondstadt. You wondered just how much of this nation’s history had been lost in the great fire all those years ago.

Just as you were about to ask another question, Alaric, Gwen’s older brother, approached the two of you. He sent you a small nod and handed Gwen a guitar. “How about you show our new friend how we party in the North Wind?”

The guitar had beautiful, intricate engravings of flowers on the wood, and was polished over with a fine sheen. It glittered under the orange tavern lights. Gwen eagerly took the guitar and beamed at you, “I can’t believe it’s been a few weeks and you still haven’t witnessed a Blair family show!”

Alaric sighed. “It’s not really a family thing… Gwen just likes to make it one–”

“Oh, stop it, Alaric! It is a family thing! After all, it’s the three of us that participate! And… Pa says he loves it when we perform on the stage together. Because it reminds him of Ma.”

Letting out another sigh, Alaric reluctantly agreed. “I’ll get my violin ready.” He walked off towards a room behind the bar that was only reserved for employees.

With a giggle, Gwen scurried off towards the stage in the left corner of the tavern, calling out to Klaus as she did so. As you took a sip of the second drink that she had given you, a familiar soothing voice entered your ears.

“We meet again.”

It was none other than Ragnvindr. He sent you a curt nod and gestured towards the chair across from you. “May I?”

You smiled. “Please.”

He took a seat and called for a glass of Thousand Wind Wine. August made quick work of the drink, deciding to fill your glass too while he was at it. Ragnvindr sighed contentedly. “Fresh wine is perfect after a day of hard work. It seems you think the same.” His crimson eyes flitted down to the glass in your hands.

Shrugging, you decided to agree with him instead of telling him why you were really here. It seemed as though he had already caught on, as there was a knowing look in his eyes. He already knew why you were frequenting this tavern, and you weren’t that fond of someone knowing your secrets.

He motioned towards the stage where Gwen and her brothers were preparing to play a few songs. “They’re a magnificent trio, Emilia’s kids. They were what kept spirits and morale high during the rebellion. Them, and–” He abruptly stopped, leaving his sentence unfinished as he took a lengthy sip of his wine.

“What was she like? Emilia?” You questioned, watching as he took a deep breath to compose himself.

A sudden smile broke out onto his lips. “She was like everyone’s mother. She had a particular love for music… that love of music passed to her gifted children. Even that guitar that Guinevere is holding was Emilia’s. Alaric’s violin too— and Klaus’ hand drums. Even August used to join in with her. He’d play her violin or drums to accompany her rich singing voice. A bard friend of ours would often sing duets with her. The two of them together were what kept us from giving up. Them, and our now mighty Anemo Archon.”

You raised a brow in intrigue. “Lord Barbatos was there?”

You didn’t receive an answer to your question. Assuming it was a sensitive topic, you turned towards the stage and watched as Gwen easily grabbed the patrons’ attention.

She giggled, “Now, I want all of you to sing along! This song was written by our mother, Emilia. May her soul rest easy with others who we lost in the battle for our freedom. We dedicate this song not only to her and the late Queen Catalina, but also to the Anemo Archon! The one who saved us!” She cleared her throat, bowing her head. “We hope you hear this, Lord Barbatos, wherever you are on the wind.”

With a deep breath, she strummed the guitar. You were quickly entranced by her rich voice, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched her get lost in the music. Despite his earlier opposition to participate, you could see a small smile form on Alaric’s lips. He was undoubtedly enjoying this.

The door to the tavern opened, inviting in a large gust of wind from the outside. Gwen laughed into the next verse of the song. “To the Anemo Archon!” she shouted mid-verse, causing a chorus of cheers to ring throughout the tavern.

The other patrons shouted their own praises to the god of wind, raising their mugs and glasses into the air. Most of them had recognized the song, singing along in a brilliant harmony.

“Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping—!”

You turned your attention to gauge Ragnvindr’s reaction, only to see him tapping his foot along to the beat of the song, and mouthing the words as if he had known them by heart. You assumed that this song was one of many that was frequently played during the rebellion.

Gwen truly was a performer— weaving in between tables and eagerly getting others to join in on the fun. Some couples rose from their seats and began to dance, while others stomped their feet along the wooden floors, adding to the already lively vibe of the North Wind Tavern. If every evening was like this, you supposed you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your days in this era.

As you allowed yourself to get lost in the sound of the Blair family’s music, you failed to notice the pair of cerulean eyes that were watching you from afar. A chill ran down your spine, and you downed the rest of your drink. When you looked up, you met eyes with Barbatos, who was currently in his bard attire.

You sent him a warm smile, and he returned it. He winked and raised his mug, a silent toast, and your smile widened. Your attention was redirected to the Blair siblings as the song finished and Gwen cheered, turning to her brothers with tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. The three shared a long hug, and you could feel their sadness from where you sat.

“Thank you!” Gwen wiped her tears and took a small bow. Her eyes landed on the bard who had tried to hide himself amongst the crowd, and a beaming smile graced her lips. “We hope you enjoyed the song, Lord Barbatos!”

Flinching at the newfound attention drawn his way, Barbatos chuckled softly and nodded. “I loved it, in fact. Do you mind if I play a song of my own?” He pulled out an elegantly crafted lyre– one made of gold with a gem placed in the middle. The strings glowed aqua, a clear indicator that this was no mere lyre, but a divine creation.

Everyone in the tavern gaped at the item. You knew that lyre; It was none other than the Holy Lyre Der Himmel. It was kept away in the basement of the cathedral with high security in place to make sure it wasn’t stolen. The only time it was brought out was for Ludi Harpastum.

“Why, of course!” Gwen hopped down from the stage, giving a small bow to Barbatos. “The spotlight was made for you.”

He nodded in acknowledgment, taking his place up on the stage. He sent her a warm smile before clearing his throat and turning to Klaus and Alaric. “Do you mind accompanying me with this song?”

The two men shared a look before nodding. They were not about to pass up an opportunity to share the stage with the Anemo Archon. Alaric reached for Gwen’s guitar, to which she eagerly handed over.

Barbatos began to strum his lyre, leading the song as Klaus and Alaric followed suit. “Some of you may be all too familiar with this song. Please, sing along! Let the wind hear your melodic voices!”

Of course, no one was going to deny his wishes. Bright smiles adorned every patron’s face. Although he spoke of the people’s voices sounding like a melody, Barbatos’ voice outsold any others you’ve ever heard. You were more than familiar with it, always stopping to listen to him sing whenever you got the chance.

His voice was just as ethereal as ever, carrying a light and airy feeling akin to that of the wind. It sounded like the echo of an angel’s silky voice. You supposed that now that you knew his true identity, it all made sense on why it felt that way to you.

As the song continued, you realized you knew it like the back of your hand, word for word. It was the one about the soldier, the poet, and the king—a famous tale written about three influential figures in Mondstadt’s history. Over time, the real meaning of the song faded away, replaced with a new meaning.

In the present, it was sung about The Seven, with the soldier representing the Geo, Electro, Pyro, and Hydro Archons. The poet solely represented the Anemo Archon, and the king represented the Dendro and Cryo Archons. The amount of times it was sung in Mondstadt taverns was way more than you could count on both hands.

You didn’t know if anyone outside of Mondstadt really knew of the song, as it had originated in this nation.

Taking a glance at Ragnvindr again, you spotted a forlorn look in his eyes. Despite the smile resting on his lips, his eyes held a deep sadness. You had yet to find out what secrets he was keeping and why they were troubling him.

“Are you not going to join him?” He questioned suddenly, turning his head to look at you.

You glanced to where he was pointing, only to see that Barbatos was staring at you as he sang. He only broke eye contact when a patron cheered next to him, causing him to excitedly sing the next verse.

“What do you mean?” you replied. You had an inkling of what Ragnvindr was implying, but you had to be sure first.

He scoffed softly. “I think we both know what I mean. Just look at the way he looks at you.” He pushed your chin, turning your head to face Barbatos once more.

Sure enough, the bard was vying for your attention again. However, he looked away from you almost immediately, a pink tint coating his cheeks. He was embarrassed that he had been caught.

You laughed, somewhat in disbelief. “I don’t see how he could—“ you stopped short as Ragnvindr sent you a smirk. You gulped, shaking your head. “He’s—“

“A god?” he finished for you, raising a brow. You nodded. A soft chuckle left his lips. “And why is that stopping you?”

You couldn’t think of an answer to that question. Instead, you simply shrugged. Barbatos ultimately wanted you to see him as human— something he was without even trying to be. It was easy for a god like him to mingle with humans, and the more you learned about him, the more you started to realize just how beautiful he really was.

“He’s taking an interest in you,” Ragnvindr continued. “You should welcome it with open arms. Unless, that is, you don’t want it.”

You didn’t know what you wanted. Everything was piling up on your shoulders all at once, and it was beginning to take a huge toll on your mental state. And there was only so much that alcohol could do to stop it. You knew that eventually you’d snap, because the pressure kept building and building.

Deciding to stay silent, you watched as the man across from you pieced everything together. You didn’t even need to say anything, he already understood, and that scared you. The only other person who was able to understand you like this was Diluc.

The song ended, the obnoxious cheers from the crowd hurting your ears. You were brought out of your stupor, watching as the humble bard on the stage took a dramatic bow and gratefully accepted a few mugs filled with wine. Gwen handed him a freshly picked rose from a vase, to which he eagerly took and thanked her in earnest.

“To the Anemo Archon!” A patron raised their glass, followed by the rest of the patrons in the tavern. A unanimous cheer erupted throughout the tavern.

Ragnvindr raised his own glass, making eye contact with Barbatos as he also muttered his own, “To the Anemo Archon.”

You would’ve joined in on the praises were it not for your swirling emotions and thoughts. Instead, you made a silent toast, before you abruptly stood from your chair and bid farewell to Ragnvindr. Your chair scraped loudly against the wooden floor, making you flinch.

Paying your tab to August, you hurried out of the tavern. The cool night air engulfed your body, providing a brief solace to your hot skin. You inhaled deeply, slowly exhaling as you stood under the light of the moon. The sounds of lively banter and cheers filtered out into the street from inside the tavern.

A faint yell followed, Gwen’s thick accent entering your ears. She had taken the stage again, this time singing a song that she had written herself. As the tune began, a mellow one opposed to the last song she sang, you walked away from the North Wind Tavern. Everything got quieter the further away you were, until finally you could no longer hear Gwen’s harmonious voice.

The streets were mostly empty at this time of night. It left you completely alone and vulnerable with your thoughts. The silence, apart from the howling wind, made you feel more uneasy. Feeling a sudden pang in your chest, you made your way to your comfort place– a place where you knew you could relax and wouldn’t be interrupted.

Although your mind was running rampant with the thought of wanting to go home, you knew you needed to be alone right now to think. Taking a seat on the steps beneath the Statue of The Seven in Windrise, you let out a shaky exhale.

The words Jean had spoken to you all those years ago in the rain made your lip start to quiver.

“All you ever do is think about yourself!” She yelled in a fit of fiery rage. The words had tumbled out of her mouth so effortlessly, as if she had been meaning to say them for a while. However, there was a deep pause between those words and her next sentence, a clear indicator that she did not truly mean what she had said.

“If you had to make a choice between me and your future… which one would you choose?”

As soon as she uttered those words, you were at a loss. You knew the answer: you would always choose her, but in that moment, your voice failed you. With a devastated look in her sky blue eyes, she gulped and nodded. Whether the water droplets on her face were her tears or just the rain, you didn’t know.

You have regretted that night ever since. Why hadn’t you just told her that you’d choose her over and over again, no matter what? Were you actually selfish like she claimed you were? You knew by now that she didn’t actually mean anything she said that night, that it was all just pure, unbridled anger, but a part of you still wondered if what she said was true.

If you really were selfish.

Before you could stop it, a tear rolled down your cheek… and then another… and another, until you were choking and sobbing as you gripped the fabric of your pants tightly. This wasn’t just about that night. It was also because of how much you missed everyone back home.

Ah, that word again. Home. That mysterious voice had asked if you considered Mondstadt your home– regardless of the time period. You still didn’t have an answer, and you weren’t sure if you ever would.

You missed your friends dearly. You missed your older brother, even if he treated you poorly most of the time. You missed the man you considered to be a brother to you, Diluc, and you missed your best friend Kaeya. Of course, you also missed Jean and the tradition you two had of sending each other dandelion seeds every Windblume Festival, Weinlesefest, and Ludi Harpastum… you also missed the opportunities you didn’t take in your former relationship with her.

You missed spending your nights in Angel’s Share and watching multiple talented people perform. Sometimes you’d even perform a song or two and get the crowd going. Diluc was always thankful for the way you effortlessly brought in business whenever you performed.

He used to always tell you that you were made to be on stage—to be singing and performing for others. You never considered a music career something you were passionate about pursuing until he said those words.

There were so many things you missed that you would never experience ever again. Ducking your head, your shoulders heaved as you continued to sob. The sound echoed throughout the open space. A soft breeze whistled by, carrying along a sweet melody that you heard one too many times.

Without a word, Barbatos sat down next to you. It was quiet for a while as you cried, the only sound permeating the air being the strumming of a gentle tune and your sobs that were still wracking through your throat.

The last time you had gone through a serious depressive episode like this was when you and Jean called it quits— the night that hurtful words were said.

It was cruel of Barbatos to be playing a tune that you so often matched with your past relationship with Jean. You hadn’t spoken your worries on the wind, so what brought him here? Was it the sound of your cries?

The wind was especially prominent here. You chided yourself for making the mistake of coming to a highly windy area. Though, in the end, his company was very much appreciated, as was the strumming of his lyre.

It no longer mattered to you how he knew you were here or why you were crying. All that mattered was the comfort he brought you, even without having to say anything.

You glanced over at him, only to see his eyes closed and his lips pursed into a thin line. He was in his element, his fingers flawlessly plucking at the strings of the Holy Lyre. With every note, tiny aqua colored light particles emitted from the strings, floating into the air before dispersing into nothing.

For a moment, you wondered if the Holy Lyre had some sort of ability to calm the soul, as your mind was not only clear of the worries you were facing minutes ago, but your tears were now gone.

You relished in the serene moment for a little while longer, wishing you could stay like this forever.

With your mind and body now calm, you thought back to everything that happened with Jean. Instead of the intense feeling of self hatred and confusion from before, you now felt numb. You tried to wrack your brain for any positive memories to look back on, and sure enough, you were presented with many.

Like the one time the two of you sat by the river and talked about your insecurities. Jean was always so terrified of not living up to her mother’s expectations of who she wanted her to be. She was scared of not being the perfect, headstrong and chivalrous daughter that she wanted.

Little did she know, she was already exactly that: strong and resilient. She fought for what she believed was right, and she was ready to face any challenge head on no matter what. You told her that to her face in that moment, a smile breaking out onto your lips subconsciously as you praised her.

You could still remember the way her cheeks reddened when you did so.

She listened just as intently when you told her your own worries. You were scared of not being able to do anything for anyone— that you were useless. You were scared that you were selfish and only thought about yourself in any given situation. You didn’t want to be like your mother. You wanted to help people, to at least do one thing to help the world grow.

When you said all of that, she stayed silent for a while, and you feared that your worries were indeed true. What were you trying to achieve in your life? You didn’t have any expectations to live up to or some huge duty to fulfill like she did. You were just a normal person, someone that didn’t have anything to offer to the world.

Unlike Jean, who had so much to offer to Mondstadt. Unlike Diluc, who protected Mondstadt. Unlike Kaeya, who was the last hope for his fallen nation.

…Unlike Barbatos, who has helped and protected Mondstadt so many times in the past, and continued to do so from the shadows. He built the nation into what it was today. His principles and beliefs were the core foundation of Mondstadt. He participated in the revolution that saved the people from the evil tyrant. Without him, Mondstadt wouldn’t be standing tall like it was.

Maybe it wouldn’t even exist anymore.

His influence shaped the nation into what it was. The three important people in your life also helped to shape the home you loved so dearly.

But you? You hadn’t done a single thing. Your fears had come true.

Your lip quivered, and the stinging of tears pricked at the corners of your eyes again. All the while, the tune you loved to associate with your ex was still being played. You gripped at your pants, your knuckles becoming lighter from the force.

What did you even have to offer to the world? That question plagued your mind so much, and you always knew the answer: …nothing.

“Sometimes,” Barbatos spoke quietly, his soothing voice cutting through your self deprecation. “The purpose we have in this world is not a big one. It can be small… but that small purpose can lead to bigger things in the future. Just like how a small breeze can bring hope to all in the darkest times.”

He smiled softly when you glanced over at him. “No matter how small that breeze is, the impact can change the world.”

Barbatos’ words resonated with you, giving you a small ounce of hope that you didn’t have before. You set out to find the answer to the question that you thought you had the answer to.

If everyone had a purpose, what was yours? Giving up wasn’t an option— not anymore at least. If Barbatos had faith that you had one, then you were going to believe him and find what it was.

With a newfound determination, you awoke the next day bright and early. Today you were going to set out and begin your journey of self reflection and acceptance; Something that you had never explored in the past because of the fears that laid beneath your skin.

But now, you were going to step out of the box you placed yourself in and explore the world without the rose colored lenses you always hid behind.

You didn’t know where to begin, but you supposed the mysterious note you received was a good start. Reading the elegant calligraphy again in your mind, your brows furrowed.

Why was someone trying to get you to find out who Barbatos really was? And why you of all people? You didn’t belong to this time. The choices you made here were already affecting Mondstadt’s future— Barbatos made that clear through his lecture a few weeks prior.

Although it severely frustrated you, you figured that you would have to find the answer for yourself.

Stepping out of the inn you were staying in, the bright rays of the sun beat down onto your exposed arms. It was a beautiful day, with a gentle breeze drifting through the streets. The city seemed to come alive, with vendors stocking their wares and tired bodies exiting their homes. A few dogs trotted down the cobblestone, barking happily.

You smiled brightly as one of them ran up to you. It was a breed that originated in Mondstadt— its black and brown coat shining in the sun. It eagerly pranced around your legs, letting out a small yip of happiness as you scratched behind its ears.

Cooing softly, you gave it the attention it wanted before it bounded off to find someone else. You took in a deep breath, the scent of dandelions on the wind relaxing your mind.

Lively chatter could be heard around every corner. As you passed by a few vendor stalls, you greeted them with a polite wave and a smile. They waved back with a smile of their own, bidding you a good morning.

Mondstadt was just the same as it always had been: a peaceful haven with friendly smiles and a welcoming atmosphere.

Your first stop for the day would be the North Wind Tavern to gather information.

Hundreds of years ago, the original library in Mondstadt was burned to the ground. Barely any records of the nation’s history had survived, gradually causing the people of Mondstadt to forget it.

You decided to take advantage of your trip to the past and venture out to the library to see what kind of books you could find on Barbatos. Seeing as how the nation had recently been built anew and it was currently the early years of The Seven rising to power, you wondered if you’d find anything at all.

However, you weren’t about to give up hope. One thing you learned from Barbatos and Gwen was that you had to stay positive.

Swinging open the door of the tavern, you spotted a few day drinkers littered about. Jovial music was being played on the stage by a bard and his companion. Behind the counter, Alaric was organizing bottles.

You could hear some clattering on the second floor. Upon craning your neck to try and see what it was, you saw Klaus taking the wooden chairs off of the tables and lighting a few candles.

“Good morning,” Alaric greeted with a curt nod.

You sent him a shy smile. You’ve never talked with him one on one before. “Good morning, Alaric. How are you?”

“Alright,” he answered shortly. “What can I help you with?”

You shook your head. “I’m not here for a drink, but thank you. Is Gwen here, by chance?”

He perked up at the mention of his younger sister. “I’m afraid not. She’s not working the tavern today. At least, not on day duty.” He turned to place a few freshly washed glasses onto the shelf, organizing them in a certain way that made you wonder if he was a bit of a perfectionist.

Your shoulders drooped. “Oh.” You could feel a pit of disappointment settle in your stomach. You were going to ask Gwen to accompany you to the library. “Well, I’ll be off—“

“Is there anything in particular you needed from her?” Alaric questioned, turning to face you with an expectant look. “I can pass along a message if you would like.”

“Well, there were a few questions I had, but… I suppose I can get them from just about anyone.”

He motioned to a seat at the bar, to which you sat down and watched as he prepared a non-alcoholic drink for you. He worked with a certain precision that answered your previous suspicions. With a final touch, he slid the glass to you and got to work on a second glass.

As soon as he finished, he rounded the bar and took a seat next to you. “Well?”

“There’s a library in the city, right?”

He raised a brow, taking a sip of his drink. “In the city? Not necessarily. There is a library, but it’s not in the city. It’s a little to the north… Why do you ask?”

You sighed. “I wanted to research a few things. I came here hoping Gwen could accompany me, but I guess I’ll have to go alone.” Going alone might be better for you. That would leave you with time to yourself to think.

“I could go with you.” He told you, his deep voice steady as his gray eyes met yours. “If you’re willing to wait until lunch, I can go with you during my lunch break.”

A smile broke out onto your lips. You were nervous to be completely alone with him because of how intimidating he seemed. There was a constant frown on his face, and his fierce gray eyes warned others to stay away. Despite his initial sharp tone and broody demeanor, you were slowly realizing that he was quite kind.

Not wanting to turn his idea down (and wanting the company on your journey), you nodded. “Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

You spent the remainder of your morning out in the streets. Before long, midday arrived, and you made your way back to the tavern. Alaric was finishing up an order as you walked in.

He placed the drink down in front of a patron and left the bar. “I’ll be out for my lunch break, Pa.” He told his father, receiving a nod from August in response. The older man saw you standing by the door and sent Alaric a small, knowing look.

Without a word, Alaric tossed his father a warning glance and joined your side. “Ready?” He slung a small bag over his shoulder.

With a hum, you nodded and the two of you began to set off for the Mondstadt library. It turned out that it was not that far from the city at all. A little north near what would later become Wolvendom.

There was minimal chatter along the way, but you didn’t mind. Sometimes silence was a better choice, and spaces did not always need to be filled with conversation.

Alaric was a comforting presence, despite your original unease towards him. You learned he was a swordsman, and quite a skilled one at that. Having to stop to deal with some monsters on the way, you watched in awe at how Alaric elegantly moved to take care of them.

Just like when he was mixing drinks, he was precise and flawless, defeating each foe with a flick of his wrist and not even breaking a sweat. He was a seasoned soldier, that much you could tell from the battle scars lining his toned arms.

He swiftly wiped the excess of remains off his blade, scowling at the sight. His scowl disappeared as he turned to you, urging you along the path that was now cleared of danger.

“Where’d you learn to fight like that?” You couldn’t help but ask, eagerness in your voice.

You’ve met your fair share of swordsmen—Kaeya being one of them. Alaric’s movements reminded you of Kaeya’s in a way. Though, Kaeya wasn’t as graceful. Diluc wasn’t either, but he was a bit of a different story.

Alaric placed his sword back in its scabbard and sighed heavily. “I reckon Gwen told you about the tale of the North Wind?” You nodded. He continued, “I worked closely with Her Majesty— I was one of her bodyguards. Among all the Knights of Zephyr, I was deemed the best of the best by Her Majesty’s lover.”

“She had a lover?” The surprise in your voice made Alaric let out a small huff of amusement.

“She did. A god from Natlan.” He answered. “The Mighty Lord of Fire, Lowen. They were an exceptional warrior of immense prowess and undeniable power. They were considered a god of war. According to those who only knew of them by name, they were ruthless and bloodthirsty. But to those who knew them personally, they were incredibly kindhearted and fiercely loyal.”

“But?” You glanced at him expectantly.

A look of sorrow flashed in his gray eyes. “They did not win the title of Pyro Archon. And Queen Catalina did not win the title of Anemo Archon.”

It was silent for a moment. “What happened to Lowen?” you questioned softly.

“No one knows,” he muttered. “Since no one resided in the Queen’s kingdom by the time of her death, no one knows what happened to Lord Lowen. It is assumed that they fled into the Dark Sea, but there is no proof to back such claims. Not when the Dark Sea is impossible for mortals to enter. …I am sorry, we got off track from the original conversation.”

“It’s quite alright,” you sent him a small smile.

“I was appointed under Lord Lowen as their protector each time they decided to pay a visit to the kingdom. Eventually, they took me under their wing and began training me. Although my skills with a sword were admirable, Lord Lowen claimed I had more potential that I needed to unlock. They taught me the ways of combat from their homeland, and as they surmised, my skills grew.

“They didn’t just train me in the art of the sword. They also taught me to wield a polearm, though I prefer to use a sword…” He let out a deep exhale, “And then it was Amos who taught my siblings and I the way of the hunt.”

There was that name again: Amos. You could’ve sworn you’ve seen it somewhere in the present, and it kept getting mentioned by the people around you. For now, you decided to keep your questions pertaining to Amos to yourself. If you were lucky, you’d be able to find their name in a book in the library.

“We’re here.” Alaric announced, gazing up at the fine work of architecture.

The entirety of the library was made out of fine stone, with marble pillars in the front and gold trimming lining the edges. The symbol of a triquetra laid engraved at the top. The anemo sigil was engraved into the wooden doors with a silver sheen, and the windows reached from the floor to the ceiling, allowing a generous amount of sunlight to filter through.

The name of the library was etched into the stone underneath the triquetra. The large, oak doors were extremely heavy, requiring a great amount of force to be pushed open. Alaric pushed them open without so much as a grunt, taking a step inside. You followed, your jaw falling slack at the wondrous sight.

Hundreds upon hundreds of books lined shelves on every wall. Near the entrance on both sides were tables and chairs for resting, and you could spot a few more tables near the back of the library. The ceilings towered above you, making the building look bigger than it was. Elegant chandeliers hung down from the marble ceilings, all of them lit.

There were more aisles of books than you could count on both your hands and Alaric’s combined. It seemed to go on forever, though you knew it didn’t. A receptionist desk sat to your right, with a blonde woman looking to be in her thirties occupying the space.

She greeted the both of you with a gentle smile. “Welcome. If there’s anything you’re searching for in particular, feel free to ask me,” she said in a hushed voice, maintaining the peace and quiet of the library. Even though her voice was quiet, it still echoed off of the walls.

The fact that this very library would be destroyed in the future caused a pang in your heart. This place was absolutely gorgeous, filled with possibly more knowledge than the Sumeru Akademiya’s House of Daena. It made you not only upset, but angry at whoever caused the downfall of such an important piece of Mondstadt’s history.

“Thank you.” You returned the woman’s smile and began to walk towards the many aisles of books. Where would you even start? It’d take you years to find what you needed, and possibly centuries to read every book in here.

A little overwhelmed by the gargantuan selection of books, you sighed. You could already feel a headache forming.

Alaric’s eyes flickered between the labels on the aisles, and you wondered what he was looking for. You hadn’t told him your exact reasons for coming here, so he couldn’t possibly know that you were here looking for books on the Anemo Archon. So what was he searching for?

Instead of interrupting his search, you split off to browse on your own. There could be multiple options on where you could find books on Barbatos. Either the ‘A’ section— for Anemo Archon, ‘B’ for Barbatos, ‘G’ for gods, or maybe even ‘T’ for The Seven Archons.

You took to the ‘A’ aisle first, thumbing over every book’s spine in hope to find what you were looking for. In the end, your frustration led you to the woman working the front desk.

“Ah, you aren’t the first nor are you the last to look for information on Lord Barbatos,” she smiled as she led you to the back of the library. You would’ve never thought to come all the way back here. “Luckily for you, I have donated a few books in the past few months. Everything you’re looking for is in this section.”

She pointed to a relatively small section in the very back of the library, a shelf tucked in a corner near a doorway leading to an employee only area. There was also a table with a few chairs on your right. A few books had been left on the table. Seeing the books, the woman sighed.

“I wish people would put the books away after using them. If you need anything else, let me know.” With a final smile, she gathered up the books on the table and left you alone.

You turned to the small section she directed you to. There wasn’t much… only a few books in total, but you took what you could get. You pulled the first book off the shelf and read the cover.

“The Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. This book still existed in your era. There were many copies of it in fact, mostly in Mondstadt. Had this book been one of the few that survived the destruction of the library? That couldn’t be… nothing survived that fire. So what was it doing completely intact in the future?

And why was it in a section of the library pertaining to Barbatos?

Regardless, you placed the book in your bag and plucked another from the shelf. You suspected that this one was one of the books that that woman had donated, as it was practically untouched and in perfect condition. You placed it in your bag.

The next book you pulled from the shelf caused the one next to it to fall off. You reacted quickly, catching the book before it could fall to the polished floors. You sighed in relief. A few loose papers slipped from the pages and fluttered to the ground. As you picked them up, you noticed they were sheet music.

Taking a look at the book they escaped from, it was none other than a journal. The leather binding was worn from years of wear and tear, and there was a small windwheel aster drawn on the spine. The front of the journal did not contain the name of the author, though there were multiple scratches on it. In the bottom corner was a set of initials that you concluded was the author’s.

On the inside was a name you recognized; One that Ragnvindr had uttered the night prior. If you remembered correctly, the name belonged to a young bard in the rebellion who was among the many that died. You had never heard of the bard’s name before this. Since this journal was here in the library, you considered that it too was burned in the great fire.

However, you recalled seeing a similar journal in Crepus’ old study. You never went prying in his stuff, unlike Diluc who was extremely nosy and always up in his father’s business. If your suspicions were correct and this was the same journal that you had seen in Crepus’ study, then how did it end up in the hands of the Ragnvindr family?

You put the thought aside for now and focused on the contents of the journal. You took a seat at the nearby table and opened up to the first page, absentmindedly running your fingers over the engravings on the spine of the journal. The writing was messy, but still legible.

A date was marked at the top of each entry.

“Today, with a few others, I picked some windwheel asters just shy of the wind barrier. My hand almost got whisked off, were it not for one of my companions! A close call.”

“Today, I have found my very own windblume.

It shall stand as a beacon of hope for the future that is to come.

If these flowers can survive this harsh climate, then so too can I and the others of Mondstadt survive these trying times.”

“Today, a family hailing from the West joined in on my singing. They are quite the talented bunch. The parents are even skilled soldiers!

When asked about their origins, they claimed to have been living under another god’s rule. We did not even know there were other gods outside the wind barrier.

We do not know of anything outside this barred city.”

You paused your reading. The family mentioned was most likely the Blair family that had been taken under Decarabian’s rule.

“The people are growing restless and impatient. Waiting around for a miracle is no longer an option for anyone. It is time to put an end to this tyranny.

I have taken matters into my own hands. A rebellion is what is needed to finally regain our freedom.”

“A miracle arrived after all.

A small wind spirit born from our cries for help has revealed itself to us. Such a small thing it is, but that matters not.

It is fond of my playing. It is also fond of my voice. I shall place all my hopes in this new beacon of light that has graced us with its help.”

“More people have been brought under Lord Decarabian’s rule. More of Queen Catalina’s people.

It is assumed she is losing power. The small wind spirit seems to be quite familiar with her name. I find myself wondering about their connection.”

“The people among the rebellion are growing discouraged. There is not much I can do. I am no soldier, I cannot rally troops.

My only talent lies with the lyre. With this, I hope to ease their worries and raise their spirits. This is my role, and I will see it through. For the people, for freedom, for Mondstadt.”

“The wind spirit has not given up hope, and therefore I will not either.

Today it spoke. It was humming a tune I have never heard of before. I wish to turn it into a song, however, the spirit claimed to have already known the lyrics to the song I want to write.

As peculiar as that might be, it gave me more hope for the future.”

“Meetings for the rebellion have gotten more frequent. After today’s meeting, I stayed behind.

When asked why, I confided in Ragnvindr, and told him of my worries. He had enough on his plate, but listened to my ramblings anyway.

‘Do not worry about your strength of body’, he told me. ‘Those who wield the blade will carry all the burdens of the people. You need only focus on your strength of will, and pass all your worries to me.’

His words resonated with me. He is a good listener… and a good friend.”

“I admire the bravery of the Gunnhildr Clan. They have not once put down their blades, nor have they shown any signs of surrender.

The wind spirit admires them too. They are what brought the Gunnhildrs to us. If not for both of them, I fear that we would have failed much sooner.”

“Lately, a terrible feeling has consumed me. I fear that we may fail, but… my worries should not discourage me. Nor should I trouble Ragnvindr with them again.

I will continue to play my lyre and sing. It is my role in this war. And I shall leave the fighting to my allies who can.”

“I fear I will not live to see tomorrow’s dawn. Should I die, my only regret would be not giving my wind spirit a name. But how could I give it a name when all the names that came to mind did not fit?

I considered giving it my name… but that would be quite selfish, wouldn’t it?

I asked Amos if it was selfish. She promptly said ‘It is not. We often name things after ourselves to better understand them, and perhaps even love them better, because it is hard to love who we are. By doing this, we learn to love ourselves.’

Her words touched my heart. When I asked if it was even fair to name an immortal being, she replied, ‘Naming it after yourself would further immortalize you. There is nothing wrong with immortalizing the ones history has its eyes on, especially if they are a paragon of hope and virtue.’

I believe this was her way of saying that I am important to history… However, I am hesitant to believe so. If history were to have its eyes on anyone, it would be her, Ragnvindr, the Gunnhildrs, and of course, my wind spirit friend.

I am but a bard. My name will not be remembered, unlike those of my allies.”

“Oh how I wish I could have seen the birds in flight, and the open skies beyond the wind barrier.

I will fight for my people, my freedom, and for my beloved Mondstadt.

And of course, I shall fight for my wind spirit friend, who still goes without a name. Should I live, I will give them a name I have been thinking of for quite some time.

Should I live, we will travel the world together, and we shall sing songs for all to hear in an era where Mondstadt is free.”

That was the last entry. You knew what happened after that. The bard died, just like many others during the rebellion. Ragnvindr was the one who told you this.

Carefully closing the journal, you placed it in your bag. You didn’t know why it was so significant to Barbatos. There was no mention of him anywhere in any of the journal entries.

Standing up from your chair, you made your way back to the front of the library. You took the woman at her word when she told you to come to her if you needed anything else. Perhaps she had some insight into the journal you found.

As you were approaching her desk, Alaric joined your side once more, two thin books tucked under his arm. You eyed them curiously, trying to get a peek at the titles on the spines.

“Have you found what you were looking for?” he questioned, redirecting your attention to his handsome face.

You sent him a small smile and nodded. “I have.” You then placed the books on the desk before you. “I’d like to check these books out.”

The blonde haired woman nodded and sent you a warm smile. “Sure thing! Just write your name down here, as well as the names of the books, and you’ll be good to go!” She slid a piece of paper towards you and you took the quill from her hands, elegantly writing your name down on the paper.

You handed the quill back and placed the books back into your bag. Alaric did the same, and soon after, the two of you were retreating back to the city. A subconscious smile graced your lips as you traced your finger along the spine of one of the books.

Alaric peered over, a small scoff escaping his lips at the book’s title. You could’ve sworn you saw a hint of a scowl on his face. However, it was gone as quick as it came.

“You’re interested in the Anemo Archon?”

You nodded, “Yes. I’d like to learn more about him, so I’m hoping these books will help.” You showed him the other books you signed out, and he hummed disinterestedly.

He turned away from you, his gray eyes narrowing. Studying his put off expression, you could see him clenching his jaw. Various assumptions filled your head at that moment, all of them shouting the same thing. You didn’t want to believe them, so you shut them out and decided to play the role of being ignorant instead.

It was a not so wise choice, but you’d take that over the possible truth of the matter.

Clearing your throat, you pointed to the books tucked under his arm. “Were you also looking for something?”

You remembered the way he immediately darted off to look for something in particular the moment you stepped foot into the library. You were more than curious to know what it was he was looking for, but you also knew when to keep your nose out of others’ business.

Alaric shifted, hiding the books’ titles from view, and sent you a curt nod. “A few books were recently imported from Sumeru’s Akademiya. I have been waiting for them for a while now.”

His grip on the books tightened, as if someone were going to steal them away. You certainly had no desire to.

Sensing he was not going to talk further about the matter, you didn’t pry into what it was he was hoping to learn about from those books. Instead, you glanced back down at the book in your hands and traced your fingers over the cover.

It was a beautiful cerulean color, with the depiction of Barbatos’ wings in the center. Gold trimming lined the wings, glittering under the light of the sun. The drawing looked like an exact replica of the Anemo Archon’s grand wings. Except, this drawing had two pairs of wings instead of just one.

You considered he might look more grandiose if he had two pairs of magnificent ivory wings— or maybe even three. A subconscious smile broke out onto your lips as the thought crossed your mind. The image you curated in your head did not help.

Closing your eyes briefly, you vowed you would uncover his secrets and therefore learn more about him not only as an archon, but as a person. And through that, you would also uncover the mysteries behind that note you still kept tucked in your pocket.

But if you were going to learn more about the god, that meant you had to spend an awful lot of time with him. That was going to be a difficult feat.

It was hard to catch him when he was as free as the wind and went wherever he pleased whenever he pleased. But you were not going to give up, because if there was anything to praise you for, it was your hard work and determination to see things through once you set your mind to something.

You would see this through, no matter what.

author’s note: not even halfway done with chapter 2, which is why i decided to split it up into 2 parts. how are we liking the blair family so far? alaric and gwen?

for some context on the “queen catalina” and “lord lowen” i wrote about, they’re two of my ocs. in the genshin universe, they existed during the archon war. catalina ruled over a small portion of mondstadt and was just as kind and gentle as barbatos. she was the god of memories. lowen ruled over a portion of natlan and was calm, strategic, and calculating. they often came off as intimidating, but they were actually quite kind and compassionate. lowen was the god of wrath.

every time i insert catalina and lowen somewhere, they’re always lovers. and for some reason i always give them the tragic lovers trope or right person, wrong time trope.

yes, catalina has a connection to barbatos. in one of my other fics that’s on wp, catalina and barbatos had a very close relationship that was akin to that of lovers, but i never explicitly state what their relationship status was. im leaving it up to reader interpretation 👍 just like im going to do for this fic too. so u can view them however u want - whether it be past lovers, close friends, allies, or a qpr. but they are never enemies.

if u’d like more insight into their relationship from my other fic, feel free to ask! i love talking about them! :D

also ofc if u have any other questions, pls ask! i’ll answer them as best as i can.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #angst #venti #venti x reader #genshin venti #— thus always to tyrants 🪴#diluc ragnvindr #kaeya alberich #jean gunnhildr #time travel au #old mondstadt era #npcs for plot purposes #hurt/comfort

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littleroaes · 7 months

Text

Boys In Cat's Clothing pt.2 (100 note special), l.jy pt.1

— how the season that comes to change, takes his life with it. Strangers that passed him by has now come to effect his own life, paint it in colors and forms outside his own framework. And when his new found friend at the bakery, and a strange girl during the setting sun, asks him about love. He desperately wants to name the sensation in his heart, and hope that Y/n will too.

PAIRING ➤ lee juyeon x fem!reader

GENRE ➤ FLUFF, cat shapeshifter!juyeon, mutual pining(as always), clingy juyeon, juyeon just want to be loved, soft angst?(fight for your love!), Eric feature, cute jealousy, happy ending

WARNINGS ➤ none, proofread once so probably missed something!

WORD COUNT ➤ 8.7 k

AUTHOR'S NOTE ➤ it is here! Part two of boys in cats clothing plus three extra scenes! (The bonus scenes doesn’t have a specific timeline in their relationship) As pt.1, it isn’t much of a complicated story, just fluffy feels! Boys in cat’s clothing was my first story as littleroaes, so I took to the opportunity to celebrate it! Shoutout to @blue-rainydays and @from-izzy for cheering me on lol. I really went through it a couple of times, enjoy!

TAGGING @blue-rainydays for you my blue!!

“YOU'RE NOT TOGETHER” THE DOUGH FALLS BETWEEN THE FINGER GAPS DOWN ONTO THE SILVER COUNTER.

"Together?" Juyeon asks while he watches its color reminiscent of vanilla, fall to the center and spread from its mit.

“Yeah?”

The sunlight reflected in a specific window and the pattern of tiles he steps onto everyday, has become all the more familiar. At the start of his time at the bakery, he refused to go alone. Y/n woke up about an hour earlier than what the time on her squares in row told her to. It was all, just to let Juyeon out of the four walls that, at some point, crossed the line of customary and took his mind and forced it in full circles. So when she stood with him before the pink painted walls and windows from floor to ceiling, Juyeon became determined to come home and tell her everyday about his passionate way of life.

When Juyeon for the first time in his life stepped onto the wooden floor and heard the bell chime from above. He fell another centimeter closer to Earth. Before him, centered without need of a net, a guy similar to himself(Y/n being his reference). At the time, he behind the counter reached out his arm and waved to him from across the room. Another chime goes off before Juyeon forced his arm up in a rigid manner, greeted him in a voice stale, similar to bread in the open air for two weeks.

Y/n stood beside him, with gentle force pushing his side with her elbow. Juyeon looked down at that moment, but refuted back to his habits of scratching his nape and desperately giving Y/n his eyes curved so that every bit of sunlight passed through them.

Though, now, Juyeon has lost focus of the cream-white dot on the desk. Instead he has found interest in the youngest shirt. The highest point where the lines of his arm and shoulder meet. Fabrics and hands covered in flour. Eric’s blue gloves that shine with snow like flour and crystal sugar, reach out for the silk ribbon tied to his neck, allusive to a spring girl in middle school, her name being First Love. Juyeon’s eyes follow Eric’s finger, to the point below his chin, and back to his face.

“No…we’re not.” Juyeon’s lips, luscious as the green sprouts converting to rose petals in spring. To bring to touch the mark on his life. Juyeon, without gradual rendition, let his hands, painted in sugar, fall away from the ribbon without as much of an allude to the others essence.

“Why?” He asks while Eric finds his voice and demeanor to be of the angel on the right side of his shoulder.

”Should we be?” Juyeon, whose back falls a bit curved over the counter, shrinks even lower. All words articulated by him in this moment yearns for the youngest perspective on the world and the correct answers for the obviously wavering nature of his question. Eric abruptly loses focus on the dough again, and right as it comes out of his grip, the edge between his two fingers tear off. And the bell chimes when another colleague comes through the door. Somehow, when the colleague fades behind the door and Eric lets him wander, the bridge between their eyes is fully horizontal, with no diagonals.

“No…?” Eric knits his eyebrows, “you two just looked like it.”

The single corner piece that teared off, melts together with the essence without seems, when Eric starts shaping it once more. To force the cream-white fragile fragment in sphere shape, and all at once let Earth take a bit of the curve when it falls onto the tray. And Juyeon’s vision suddenly changes direction and once again, lands on his own work space. His arms hover over the counter, hands gently shape a crater-mit to watch space fill it up, and his red apron hangs above his knees. Just as Eric's question runs through the secret corners of his mind.

The curtains work as a filter for their screen to the outerworld. And how the TV radiates mellow blue shades throughout the entire room. The screen, with colors he didn’t know existed before, spread its blueprint onto the objects closest to it.

In the beginning, Juyeon couldn’t work out the change in ambience when the curtains were down. But he knows now, the exact position of the not so bright room, and therefore the light would shine through their secluded corner, if it wasn’t for the flimsy fabric separating the two.

On the rectangular screen, it has captured a picture of their own world and built it up with every pixel. But still, the camera shifts over the highly saturated landscape without details. With loss of this reality, their world is built with grain spots and rigid edges. The couple in this saturated world on the TV sits on a dark bench. How the camera stands in a slight high-point to capture crowns of the city beneath their feet. The camera angles itself for the audience to kindly discern the top part of her dress, most of the dull fabric is covered by her brown locks. The single shot drags on without dialog, she simply stares out over the loud space before her. Juyeon takes up his legs on the sofa, he squints his eyes and feels how that world calls him. The horizon reflects the lead's eyes, but somehow, something else, other than the city pours over them.

Finally, the two on TV bring their hands together as the sunlight, through all hills, clouds and man made structures, illuminates them. How the Earth and Sun have fallen into position, makes the two, on the bench seem even more destined.

Juyeon looks over towards Y/n.

Her face has the artificial light cast up on itself. Dialog on the TV fades to whispers of weather on a windy day. The fabric of her shirt makes a stark contrast against the fabric of the couch, and her hands hold her lower legs. As the scenery on the TV passes, the entirety of his attention follows the single details of her pupils intensely dissecting the TV world.

“Y/n?” Juyeon’s voice reaches her ears like the morning sun on a rain-covered leaf. How the smell of petrichor radiate a sense of belonging, his call compel her own existence to get a fragment of his own.

“Hm?” She faces him.

The words tail end somewhere in his throat and tears at the edge of his lips. Passing conversations in his new life crowds his mind. It pulsates deeply and torments the pressing surfaces. Juyeon closes his eyes. How the world becomes non-existent and the thoughts become less vivid, outlined and with colors.

At the same time, Y/n lies her eyes on his fingers. One starts to bother the left and she shifts herself closer to the full moon outside their window. And another star falls when they intertwine hands. Juyeon watches the couch mit, where their hands touch from above it. At the same time, his heart falters and it becomes a rhythm reminiscent of the clock during midnight. Y/n looks at him with immense eyes, how everything outside the four walls carrying them seize to exist.

His eyes look at hers with a fluorescence sort of filter, complete with yearning, “Y/n, what does it mean to be ‘together’?”

When the words leave his lips, it opens her heart as a flower visualizing the world for the first time in spring. But as it does that, Y/n force the petals to compulse, seem itself from the world like it has never existed. His eyes with curiosity refuse to leave her own. And the effect arises as her eyes change direction of the room and legs fall to the floor to touch the rug beneath them.

While her vision casts itself in every direction, it lands on the TV screen, “It’s like them.” Y/n points at it. How the scene before them portrays them in a landscape so dull and devoid of color, but as one has their chin on their palm at the other mirror, the person over the table in their rectangular vision must be vivid of colors.

“Caring and comforting the other and receiving the same love back.” Y/n nods and looks back at Juyeon. To stare at a different world with a tilted head and let it be the answer to its questions. His eyes fall back to Y/n. In moments of understanding his new life, Juyeon wears this demeanor, similar to his true form.

“Like us?”

How his face sparkles in light. Another light that makes the natural shadows, highlights of the world and its fabricate stand as desolate. Juyeon’s essence is in this novel moment and her words, trapped in glass. Even when the spotlights are off and the sun has fallen under Earth, Juyeon still makes out the faint rosy pigments forming under her eyes. Just as she observes the rug beneath them and scratches her head, Juyeon’s back straightens and his arms in his lap become aligned, symmetrical to the other beside it.

Back when he took the first step into her house and he started asking questions that had Y/n inspecting things in her own home. Juyeon genuinely believed she fell in curiosity over the details of her life. That rosy stains, abrupt silence, and eyes diverting towards the corners of the room was a language of interest in daily life. But as one kept passing the other each morning sun and he gently started through the looking glass, into the people like her. Juyeon realized that the pattern in her behavior, that the out-of-world state wasn’t a deep concentration of understanding, rather, his own life’s effect on her.

The moment that euphoria came crashing right through him, his eyes fell and he moved closer to Y/n. Asked her with great eyes and slight forward posture if he keeps making her sick like this. If the rosyness on her face will spread to her inner self and contaminate every part of her body until she can’t breathe. Y/n got even redder by that at the time, and described with overlapping words and unclear hand motions. By somehow, Juyeon understood her colors are not a bad thing, not what they are, but it’s something positive, because of him.

Therefore, he smiles endearingly when she faces the flower vase on the table.

“No-I-not like us.”

His face drops in an instant, and Y/n purse her lips in and forces her eyes closed. It all sets as a desperate and pained expression in the dark complex of the night.

“We love each other a lot right?” She opens up her arms, “And there different types of love.” Y/n sighs before she continues, “All of them are good, and we describe them differently.“ ”‘Together’ is just not ours.”

The atmosphere from before has shifted. The moment Y/n put an end to her sentence, a wind came opening the two windows and a cold, winter season lies over the room. Y/n’s left hand starts scratching the edge of her right nails. The distance between them seems even further, though it’s just 50 centimeters. For a moment, Y/n looks up towards him, his face speaks of someone looking out into the fading distance when the Earth’s collapsing. She bites her lip and looks away. Them on the TV, talk about love and a single sentence runs between the silence in their apartment.

Could I be yours forever?

Y/n coughs before she stands up. The controller lies on the coffee table and reaches out for it.

“We should sleep right, you need to work well tomorrow too.”

Juyeon looks up from his spot on the couch beneath her. Her smile like it always is, making flowers grow in cold seasons or convert light when all the sources of the world withers. When she looks at him like that, all in this moment, an unfamiliar feeling runs through him. Sensations he can’t connect back to either his new or old life. Y/n comes closer and pet his head.

“Let’s go to sleep.”

Juyeon’s hand pushes his own weight off the couch, without words, he takes a step away from the warm spot. As won’t take his hand in hers, Y/n take one step closer and gently lace them. To walk towards the bed and wrap themself in fabrics.

“Good night, Juyeon.” Y/n whispers. The yearning for an answer coats her heart as one second fabricates onto another. And when she opens her mouth to whisper it again, Juyeon returns the sentence in a voice devoid of that serene tulip feeling she gets every time he speaks.

How the room falls in complete silence. Despite the sheet forcing warmth to cling to the abundant parts of her body, a coldness from the window pierce right through it. Y/n looks over towards Juyeon, to face nothing but his hair. As the moon motions over the sky, the right side of the matter becomes lighter. The fabric falls towards the mattress surface and he on the other side is now so small to fit on the pillow instead.

And when the rain starts falling on their windows, Y/n can only feel that it’s her heart making motions over Earth. But despite storms and endless puddles forming on the street corners. Y/n put a bandaid on her inside, meanwhile forcing tape onto her own mouth and tie ropes on her wrist. There is a thought. That has been folded into the deepest part of her consciousness. That Juyeon’s affection, despite the adrenaline it gives her, is compatible with an innocent child confessing to their teacher. It is a part of growing up.

And the sunset stands at the lower end of the sky and spreads its vivid colors over the horizon. Y/n turn away from the painting-like view and stare at Juyeon’s expression when the orange shade leaks from the horizon line and bleeds throughout the ocean. The scenery to their right as they walk past unknown conversations, and couples with knitted hands. In the other end of two directions, are painted signs, booths and hangers of clothes in shades reminiscent of the scene beside them.

“Should we get something to eat?” Y/n looks up at Juyeon who returns the same expression with, in contrast, a lowered head. To stand at the railing over the ocean edge as he nods. She smiles and releases his hand to walk towards the booth with a blue fabric sign and smoke escaping from the open points. Though, one step from his being, and his hands come back to her own. She looks behind her again and sees his immense eyes looking back at her as if watching disarray. Together with how his hand consoles her own like he misses it.

“I need to buy it.” Y/n smiles.

“Can’t I go with you.” He takes a step closer while still holding her hand.

Y/n look at his eyes and slight pout. How the wind braids itself with his hair and takes it, but miserably fails, so it settles before his eyes. Y/n thinks of the near past, and remembers all decisions. How at this time in this space, herself one month ago would have sighed and gripped his hand a bit tighter. To secure him that there is never an empty space beside him. But as another moth went by and the moon changed its patterns, she came to think of his fragile heart and first discovery of the world around him. To let his person grow beautifully, he too should stand before Earth with his own feet. Look at its sides and discover its beauty, not her.

Y/n shakes her head, “Stay here, I’ll be back soon.” She pats his head and runs away. This time, Juyeon lets her hand escape his own.

For a second, Juyeon looked in the opposite directions of his surroundings. Life as complex as his own passes him as if it all is nothing. The faces of the people become stranger and they all merge into one. The very real presence of others makes him shake his head and concentrate on the back of Y/n’s figure and how she stands in the queue. A bit less than a minute and the sun has fallen another centimeter towards the water, in contrast to Juyeon who has stayed in the same space she left him in.

“Hey?” He feels a touch to the shoulder of his shirt. A girl stands beside him at the railing, staring at him with rather dull eyes. Juyeon turns behind him, but none of the people on the forever long railing turn to face her.

“Hey?” She says again and Juyeon points at himself.

“Yeah, you.” She nods and his eyes widens.

“My friend thinks you’re cute.”

The girl five centimeters beneath him wears an expression contrasting to the sun's drowned path. Juyeon watches her, who shows no emotions, therefore he slowly brings his hands closer to his chest. To break eye contact with her, his eyes yearn for the person under the smoke and thin roof. But to his heart that flows continuously and hands that grasp whatever’s familiar, she stands with her back towards him.

“So?” Her voice overpowers the incoming wind and the waves crashing against the edge. How her body stands frozen as they’ve stared at each other, but suddenly she releases her crossed arms and motions her shoulders. His hands tightly knitted together come even closer to his chest under the sweater. When she sighs quietly, Juyeon feels a rush to bring him one meter below where his eyes fall now. To become out of reach towards human emotions and run under the nearest flower pot.

“Yes or no?” She asks again. Juyeon’s eyes grow larger and the ends fall into a sort of curved motion. At this point, a white question mark has drawn itself over his head.

“Are you going out? Taking her number?” She looks over her shoulder and tilts her head towards the friend again, “You think she’s cute too?”

His eyes insist on keeping themselves open. To switch between hers and the girl’s presence underneath one tree. The two scenes start fading into one, colors leak into the other’s surface and the forms of the world become curved. Juyeon finally closes his eyes and feels the water accumulate on its end.

“Forget it.” The girl sighs. Her white shoes hit the wood beneath them. How her hair follows the motions of her heels turning the other direction from his.

A tension suspended to his shoulders, falters as Juyeon watches how her silhouette will falter from his vision. A bicycle passes him to grab his attention, and as it leaves the framed world, his eyes fall back on Y/n who talks with the person in white cloth behind the cart. At that moment, Juyeon’s hands let go of the other one and he takes for the first time one step closer to the other person leaving his sight.

“Can you help me with something?” The girl turns back to Juyeon standing with one hand over his nape.

She stays quiet for a few seconds.

“Sure,” she sighs, “what do you want?”

To search the world for phrases and listen to the conversations behind him, “Is that a good way to ask someone to be your girlfriend?”

Her eyes dissect his life and his inner self. It uncomfortably tickles his shoulders and withers his height.

“I mean…” He scratches his nape again, “what your friend did.” he clarifies.

The silence that comes after his questions is rather painful. Despite constant talking and surrounding them, it can’t save the dying air between them. The sunset is right between tier two silhouettes, but is all but magical.

“Yeah…” she looks at him weirdly, “I guess.”

“Okay.” He smiles brightly, “Thank you.”

“No problem.” The girl walks away with furrowed eyebrows.

Juyeon, paints and sculpts the world in his mind when the friend under the tree eagerly walks towards the other one. He doesn’t see how she waves her hand before her friend’s face and turns her back onto the sea.

When the sun has moved another centimeter down the horizon, Juyeon stands watching it falling towards its death. He hears footsteps become all the clearer from behind, and while smiling, he turns his back on the scene in order to become a background, and fully faces Y/n. In both her hands she holds a rectangular cardboard piece. The plate with its fascinating textures and worldly colors.

“Sorry it took some time.” She hands him one of the plates and Juyeon receives it with both hands.

“Did it go well?”

She watches how his head lifts when he stops staring at the food in his palms. A wind comes right the moment he looks up and catches some of his hair strands. A part of her heart drowns in the sunset when he smiles after her question. Juyeon nods so that his fringe follows his motions and Y/n reach her hand out for it. She forces one strand to the left and Juyeon watches her face as she does. Thereafter, Y/n follows the patterns of his hair and comes to the highest point. Her hand gently brings the strands down to his scalp, and Juyeon closes his eyes and brings his head down to her height.

“Eric?”

The youngest at the table looks up from his phone to see Juyeon with his arms folded over the table. Those eyes, immersive and bright from the sunlight behind the store window. Juyeon is slightly leaned over the white table and Eric, naturally, forces his eyes wider to mirror Juyeon before him.

“I need your help,” He says with seriousness. How Juyeon’s posture lean on the rest of his chair, and his eyes on a single point as if everything else has faded from him. Eric lets go of his phone fully, resting with the screen down against the white painted surface.

“What is it?” To fully reciprocate his question, he too leans forward. Eric’s full attention lands on his friend, even when the bell from the front door chimes, he won’t look away.

“You need to make me Y/n’s boyfriend.”

Juyeon watches how Eric’s posture sinks in the single second those words leave his mouth. That expression, Juyeon thinks. It's all evocative to the girl from the sunset ocean.

“Okay…?” He leans back into the chair, knitted eyebrows and a confused look towards him on the other side of the table. “Why?” Though, the question leaves his lips and his eyes observes Juyeon’s, a view of himself in bird’s eye perspective takes him off the back rest. Instead Eric leans forward again.

“Or I guess that’s obvious,” Eric says as Juyeon looks at him with hands in his laps, “Why can’t you do it on your own?”

Juyeon’s eyes across the table, looking at Eric himself, turned his back on God. At some point, Eric tilts his head and lifts one eyebrow. To live in the same apartment should be enough to find confidence in one's own relationship, he thinks. But as Eric finds no sympathy in Juyeon’s condition, the one with a confused way of looking at the world, earnestly shakes his head. Those eyes alone and the stare that reaches across the table, is enough to make Eric lean back again.

“It’s not the right way.” Juyeon still shakes his head. The palm of his hands land on the plastic surface of the white table.

Eric, once again, knits his brows and brings his arm to cross one under.

“There’s a ‘right’ way to do it?!”

Juyeon nods.

Eric sighs, his head directs itself towards the ceiling. One square of the white patterns sits two centimeters off its white border. His vision falls back to where it was before, and Juyeon once again becomes the center of it. Eric lets his hands drop from the cross over his chest and he asks;

“Okay, tell me then, what should I do?”

His hands in his lap. How his fingers have started to fiddle with the other and Juyeon is enchanted by the motions and fabrics that follow it, “You tell her that your friend thinks she’s cute.”

Eric stares with wide eyes, lost its vigor during the ten steps the minute visor has moved on the wall behind him. Another coworker passes them by, asking them to walk over to the counter to take the next person who chimes the bell. Eric watches how, the second those words leave the person's mouth, Juyeon stands up from his seat to face him, the one that gave them order fully. How the fabric of their aprons lifts when he who has them orders turn back to the colorless door three meters away. Juyeon looks back at Eric who still hasn’t stood up. Juyeon’s arm reaches to his mid tight, and they hang awkwardly there like decorations when he asks;

“Can you do it?”

Eric wonders whether the older guy before him has a dating life more depressing than the rusted bench outside the window, as he sits there. Or hold some sort of romantic power, too strong and creative for his simple mind.

“Sure, I’ll do it.”

Two friends sit in the inner corner of the room, right by the pink letters on the window. How the r&b playlist paints time in this space and to Eric, who stands at the register without current purpose, each word becomes distinct despite its faint presence. Eric watches the clock on the right side of the room. How the second visor completes another round of teh silver frame, and the minute visor lands on a perfect number. Behind him is another one of their workers in white apron, but Juyeon is nowhere to be seen. And before Eric leaves the register, the clear chime of the golden bell goes off and casts itself over the bakery.

He turns away from the backroom and sees Y/n wave at him from the white frame. A bag decorates her left shoulder and her hair in turn falls over the fabric straps. It is a slightly colder season than before, so with time, her clothes have gotten all thicker to protect the skin from the cold. Y/n comes up to the counter and greets him, similar to the birds singing when the first flowers in spring grow. The hands on the counter fall to his sides and he greets her too.

Another second passes and the expression of spring converts into something differently. To look for the sprouts of life in mid-winter, there is nothing for her to find. Eric sees how her chin lifts to see the space behind him.

“Where’s Juyeon?” Her eyes speak of liquid moonlight.

“He’s getting something, outside.” Eric looks around, “He’s here soon.”

She nods. With only the barely one meter register between them, there is a silence created when two desperately try to solve a sentence in desperation to fill time.

“I need to ask you something.” Eric stammer. The counter surface covers the patterns drawn by his white shoes. Y/n opens her eyes a bit wider and grabs the single strap on her shoulder. Juyeon’s question runs circles in his mind. To keep reaching back towards the kitchen.

“My friend thinks you’re cute.” Eric finally says.

Her eyes widen while her arms become rigid.

“I-that’s flattering” Y/n stammer, “but…”

Her voice fades to silence as Eric tilts his head. Y/n continuously blinks as the side of his head desperately leans towards the left. To look at the erratic behavior, until she catches how a silhouette comes out from behind the metal. His hand on the silver side and the strands over lustrous eyes, it all that has carved itself a space in her heart. Y/n see it all, only for a second, but it is enough to understand Eric’s exact language and square demeanor.

“Oh.” Y/n smiles and looks at Eric. He, in contrast, furrows his eyebrows and leans towards her. Seek for another soul in the room to connect over his, what Eric thinks is, love-drowned behavior.

“Tell him to meet me outside then.” Y/n straightens her posture and walks outside. The bell goes off again and Eric is left staring at the empty spot without traces.

The second the chime from the edge reaches the far corner of the kitchen. Juyeon comes out from the metal covering his presence. That the skin of his hands cover a significant part of the outer edge of the metal machine. Eric’s back faces Juyeon and he fully frees himself from the cover and walks up to him.

“What did she say?” Juyeon asks, his eyes drowned in moonlight glitter.

Eric, at the register, finally stops staring at the point Y/n departed from.

“To meet you outside.” Eric says without any sort of surgarcoat lining between his words. As his face watches over Juyeon’s, the bright light from outside becomes uncovered by the clouds just as his lips beam.

How the two last digits on their phones count upwards as they bring the chairs over tables and take the mop to clean off the irregular pattern over the wooden floor. The bell chimes endlessly as the workers leave the room with windows from floor to ceiling. Juyeon and Eric are the last two out of the bakery, and Eric brings the keys to the door and a low sound comes from within the door when he turns his wrist.

Juyeon turns away from the frame and out over the city. As the buildings ascend above the square bakery and between the towers that pierce through the atmosphere, the setting sun beams its last warmth for the day. The two of them take their step down the stairs. Only four steps or two until they reach the sidewalk concrete and wave the other goodbye. And when Juyeon sees Eric’s back face him and his shadow paints itself over the street and reaches the cars on the other side, he turns behind him.

How the tiles of the sidewalk and sunlight lead him straight to the bench where she stands. The shadow beneath her feet follows the motion of her right hand as she waves to him. For a single moment, Juyeon stands on the tiles as if they’ve forced him down onto them. But in reality, that the earth round the sun in a forever circle seems unbearable. Because, when Y/n takes a step closer towards his existence, the entire solar system could circle around her.

“Did work go well?” Her voice is soft and familiar of daily life as she stands before him. When she looks at him attentively, he nods so that the loose fabrics around his body follow it. Soon after, Y/n take the end fabric of his sleeve and gently pull his body towards her own. Sounds of shoe surface scratching against the rough tiles reach his ears, and then, they’re letting the street guide them further down the city.

People become faceless as they enter the immense circle in the middle of the city. Juyeon grabs onto Y/n’s arm and she looks up to see his eyes follow the paths of strangers. How they cross red light and half way through, then color turns on its spectrum and the green light illuminates the concrete. The constant pitched sound pattern grabs onto his mind and torments a part of each senses. Y/n watches how his eyes closes. Without another second between the two cars and two groups of people before them, Y/n brings the left side of his body closer to her right. By nearly running, the two of them get to the end edge of the street.

Juyeon finally opens his eyes when a wind blows past his lids. The maze of skyscrapers, signs and music have opened up before them. And now they stand on the path dividing the capital into two. Once again, they stand by the side of the city river and soon walk where the railing paints the edge of the water. Like the couples, parents with children in neon blue padded jackets and high school friends on bicycles, they follow the railing up towards each bridge that decorates horizontally over the vertical river.

Conversations of people without faces crosses their life and fades before they get to comprehend it. They walk past one bridge, and how the pillars underneath it shows its true massiveness. Though, as they walk there, side by side in the illuminated city center, Juyeon continuously takes glances at her beside him.

To go through the scene in intricate detail. Count the seconds and paint the motions, Juyeon can’t find the strings attaching Eric’s help at the bakery to their moment by the river. Despite receiving his question and answering it, in what he guesses, is a positive manner, she once again is by his side without a mention of his action. Though, he thinks back on the scene during the sunset, when the girl said her friend thought he was cute. She never got beyond that. What is supposed to happen after that? he thinks. Has the universe now, with that acknowledgement at the bakery woven together their existences? Will a sensation from another world visit his dreams?

The thoughts rushes from his mind out towards his fingers and radiate to the deepest corners of his body. Juyeon once again looks at Y/n when they come to the next bridge where three benches stand in a pattern of two meters in between.

“Are we together now?” He asks suddenly.

His voice binds her heart to his own, therefore, her body, with just a small measure shifts closer to his own. Y/n looks up towards him with eyes mirroring the open river and chin a bit higher as if to compare each feature under his fringe. When they walk like this, Y/n waits for his lips to imitate the crescent moon that stands before them. But instead, a midnight streak in his eyes pulsates before her and his lips slightly apart.

“What?” She asks.

Juyeon stops one step before her in the midst of the river path and asks again “Are we together?”

Another wind comes between them when they stand one meter away from the other. How the couples and workers walk past them without lending a lens towards the two of them in the midst of the open path. Y/n’s vision covers when the wind takes one of hair strands, and without looking away from him before her, she forces it back between her ears.

“You need to tell me.” The words fall desperately as his fingers begin fiddling with the other. His eyebrows fall into a sort of outward motion. Another flash before the pupil pulls on her heart and forces her to breathe out.

“I-we’re not…” She stammers.

Juyeon’s shoulders falter even deeper. Tragic weather has taken on the single square where they stand. The continuous motions of her chest is the only part of her that can be seen from outside, as she watches how his eyes fall to her shoes.

“It hurts me, Y/n.” He breathes, “can’t you feel it too?”

Despite standing in the midst of the overcrowded city, a silence only at the edge of the world has fallen over it. Y/n opens her lips as if she’s about to answer him, but the silence draped over the buildings that circle them like walls, spreads like poison through her veins. To voice so much of a vowel, she’s afraid venom will falter.

“But it’s not like that, Juyeon.” She takes a step closer, “You don’t love me.”

The calmness of the sunset evening is gently wrapped between her fingers. And when her hand reaches out to his shoulder, it tears off in one motion and falls to the floor and withers. Juyeon backs away. The evershining in his eyes that she has come to adore, has melted off his pupils, becoming liquid starlight at the end of his eyes.

“What should I do for you to believe me?” He finally breathes, “that I love you.” The transparent wall suffocating them two, shatters in a single flicker as Juyeon walks out of it. Left before her is an empty space and a cold wind. She looks to the left to see his silhouette become smaller and fall in line with the bench. Her hand between sky and floor, desperately calls for someone to take it.

Y/n can feel something gripping at the parts of her lungs as Juyeon walks towards the bench. His silhouette is ever so small against the immense river. When her feet stand in the same position still, and another person brush shoulders against her own to get through. It too, takes onto her skin and forces a deep, cold, metal lining into her heart. Somehow, it turns to the left and Y/n can feel her own knees desperately standing still.

When her heart aches, Y/n looks back over the beautiful scene. How in every preservation, she would want to see him in the center. She sees him like this, and the sunset falls over him as if it is their only purpose. In the midst of her existence, he has become smaller. And when standing still at the edge of the world, Y/n realize this sudden fear. That he’ll walk along the path without her, and at the end another day, he will have faded like summer when it grace to autumn.

Y/n finally leaves the spot behind her without traces. She holds her eyes on his hair as if to make sure that every moment he’ll continue to exist.

Juyeon looks towards her when she takes the spot beside him.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to be together.” he looks down, “Just say no.” He says while looking out over the lights in colors to form a path at midnight for those who wander, “Because, I just…want you to know that I love you.”

When they sit by the river, his profile shows no sign of awareness of her own existence. Memories from before come back to her from every side and force itself into her heart. The scene up on the hill before the same river they’re beside now, plays behind her lens like a film from before. And when he breathes for a second time and the breeze from the water perfectly lies one strand behind the other. Y/n realizes how much he has grown. His emotions were gently wrapped in three sentences, ending in a yellow silk bow. A sort of sincerity in the golden lining threads her broken parts.

She finally smiles, when she looks at his hand that has reached out for hers. His smile that for the first time falters when he’s with her. At last, another conversation behind them fades and the world has fallen silent.

Y/n takes his hand in hers and leans towards him with lowered head. He looks up at her through the hair strands and waits for her words to torment the deepest parts within him.

“I love you too, Juyeon.”

For a second, the line between the two falls in complete silence. It is this pitched sound that vibrates in the ceiling of one's ear, and it lingers there as each second passes. Though, finally Juyeon lifts his chin even a bit higher. His eyes clear as the sky curved over their heads and how the edges of his lips have formed a rose pink cradle.

“You do?”

Y/n nods.

At this moment, Juyeon fully lifts his legs from the grass growing out between the tiles and crosses them over the bench. His front faces hers without a hidden feature and at last, he takes her other hand in his. And as they sit there under the falling sky, Y/n looks down onto her legs drawing circles on the gray concrete. How Juyeon sees his own life paints hers and he feels that sensation in the hidden corner of himself.

The same feeling he recalls from their daily life. A sensation intimate with his new life takes his breath from the lowest parts within him before letting out. And his chest seems to bring him life for an eternity.

“Can you feel it too?” Juyeon asks curiously and Y/n looks back up.

Her eyes fall wider when he, without signs, brings his hand onto her heart protected in layers. Where the sensation mirrors his own. And an empty field without wind, Y/n watch him without motions. She looks at his eyes that concentrate on the pulsating on his palm.

And he gasps with immense eyes, “You feel it too?”

Y/n nods now with a smile reminiscent of his own. How the melted starlight died. But in the corner of his eyes, she sees the small shine of a newborn star. So delicate but enough to reach her own.

And they sit there, legs over the ground and hands intertwined like the bridges beside them. Another pair of people walk past them, and Juyeon looks at her without words. Y/n tilts her head while knitting her eyebrows with her smile.

“What’s happening now?” He asks as he thinks of the movies playing hours on end by the TV screen. Her own mind fills in the blank spaces where two ears would perk up in union.

She smiles even wider and Juyeon can’t seem to understand why she does so. As he tilts his head even lower and eyes grow wider, she finally leans forward.

“This.”

Her knees force the rest of her body up a bit higher. And her hands hold him even tighter when her lips fall on his own. Or, she overestimates the height in between them, and instead kisses the upper part of his lip, right underneath his nose. Y/n comes back down with redness from his own lips. At first, he stares at her without words. Expression the same as before, all until his face lights up like the street lamps in every corner of their city.

“It’s so fun kissing you.” He gasps.

Y/n herself nearly falls onto the rest behind her, when Juyeon leans forward to press his lips against her own. She laughs and pushes him, the part of his chest right beneath the yellow ribbon. His eyes, like the city, shines up the passing darkness of the season, all while he pouts.

“Just once.” She holds up one finger, “Once.”

Cat gets jealous :(

Y/n sees how his eyes move on from her own down to the spot beside her feet. She too looks down, Juyeon is brushing his head over her ankles and walks in circles around her.

“This is Juyeon.” Y/n says.

Her neighbor kneels down and reaches out his hand. The hand becomes all the more larger the closer he gets to Juyeon. The smell of his skin and light in his eyes. Juyeon’s fur stands up, he takes a step forward as the sharp teeth behind the soft fur shows. Juyeon’s eyes are formed like sirens and stare deeply into the man before them.

“Juyeon.” Y/n quickly bends down and takes him in her arms. The stern tone fades into an awkward laugh before she looks down into her arms.

“Sorry.” The man before her has gone back to the door and holds own hand, “He’s not usually like that.” Y/n smiles and looks down in her arms cupped to hold his light fur. His paws curl up under his chin and his eyes close when Juyeon can tilt his head onto her shoulder.

“It’s okay.” He laughs, “Where is the leaking?”

His hoodie falls over his shoulders like a blanket. In securing warmth from the material, he stands against Y/n’s back, watching how she cuts strawberries. The oven glistens in warm tones and it spreads over the four walls. He calls the sweet aroma from sugar and berries.

“What is it, Juyeon?” Y/n turn her head back towards him for a second, then focus back towards the fruit. A familiar spark rushes through him when she talks to him with that high voice. He comes even closer and rests his head on her shoulder.

“Is it something special?” He asks her. Y/n, despite looking at the plastic board and can only hear his whisper-like voice, sees his ears fold up.

She smiles, “The plumber is coming over again.”

The space on her shoulder becomes cold and she barely feels the edges of his shirt brush against her own. As a divider has moved between the two, Y/n looks behind her again and puts down the knife. In oversized fashion, hair strands scattered over his eyes and a small pout, Juyeon watches her attentively. Despite his disheartened demeanor and distance(distance being in juyeon’s world), Y/n laughs.

“I need to thank him, Juyeon.”

His shoulders are still hanging low and the pout on his lips won’t go away. Y/n tilts her head and leans onto the counter.

Juyeon has circled her legs before, held her hand a bit tighter in public or strengthened his posture when someone else exchanged words with her. But when he stands before her right now, there are no walls or filters. With a yearning so transparent and a heart craving for her own, she can’t help but adore him even more. Y/n half a strawberry from behind her and walks up to his figure. Because of her motions, Juyeon’s eyes have formed from dissatisfied ones to asking questions. His own head tilts to the side and Y/n looks up at him before bringing the strawberry up to his lips.

“Don’t sulk, Juyeon.”

He bites down onto the strawberry and nods so that his fringe moves with it. Before bringing her attention back to the counter, Y/n reach her hand out towards the spot where his hair blossoms to all sides.

Cat wants a pet name >:(

How the white curtains lie like a filter over the city during sunday morning. There are no calling responsibilities until another hour has passed them by. Y/n because of that lies with closed eyes, still under the covers. A sort of relief and satisfaction washed over her thirty minutes earlier as she thought she was late for university. But before Y/n could even throw off the sheet, Y/n felt her arm being pulled towards the bed-mit. She fell onto the pillow again and her hair scattered over the fabrics. When she took a glance to her left, she saw Juyeon with closed eyes and his soft skin up against her own.

“It’s Sunday.” He whispered and shifted his head closer to hers, between her neck where Y/n felt him breathing deeply.

Because of his low voice and silk skin, she could close her eyes without thoughts of dilemma grabbing her neck. Though, now the morning sun has struck her once again, and she shifts her head one step closer to the pillow, as to make sure she’s alive. Aside from the sun, there is someone else to bring warmth in the room she is in. Y/n has her face immensely close to Juyeon’s. So much that his breathing appears to move her own strands of hair.

The clock continuously passes them by when time has stopped in the bed. Juyeon’s hair tickles her bare skin and she takes her hand to comb through his silk strands. His head falls backwards with eyes closed. In this angle, the sunlight strikes him perfectly, she thinks.

“Y/n?” He whispers and she hums.

To take notice how his skin shifts in pink and how his eyes open just to close as quickly.

“What is it?” Y/n asks.

He hesitates, “Why did you stop calling me kitten?”

“Why?” He looks through the strands of his fringe.

Y/n shifts away from his person, her face towards the white wall and the fabrics in a familiar shade folds over her. “It’s weird"...", she laughs.

Juyeon won’t say anything more, or make a sound. And she conceives the way his scent intertwines with her own, that he has gone back to dreaming. But as the white paint of her wall fades from sight and her lids closes, the sheets fall a decimeter lower. The mattress shifts in weight and a sort of coldness comes from the empty spot and makes her pull the covers closer to her essence. Soon, Y/n opens her eyes as the left side of her pillow shifts closer to the morning sun and another presence in the same room affects the poi8nt below her collarbone. As it strains her body, Y/n makes a pained expression before opening her eyes and looks up.

“Juyomi?”

He stays on her chest and takes one step after the other. To walk in circles on her upper body and sway his tail in her face. Y/n sneezes and takes her arms from under the covers and tangles within his fur.

“Juyo?” Y/n sighs. Though, her grip around his thin body loosens as he stops turning and takes a seat on her chest. As he sits there, she references all the moments they’ve spent in the same room staring into each otheräs eyes. Juyeon’s head won’t tilt to the left, but behind his small figure waves the tail from left to right in a slow rhythm.

“Juyo?” Y/n says again, this time, in a tone much more playful.

He walks even closer to her face and disappears beneath her vision. Instead, Y/n senses how his soft fur touches her neck. How Juyeon reaches his head between her chin and chest and lets the warmth of her self affect his own life. And when his face comes up to her ear, she hears faint breaths covered in white silk.

“Okay, Juyo,” she says, “I'm tired.”

Y/n wraps her arms around his fragile body and forces him down when she falls to the side. To look slightly down when her hair scatters over the pillow. She sees his eyes up towards hers, how the color spreads large over the white and sparks in the piercing sunlight. A second passes them by and Juyeon lets out a fragile sound before taking his head in her chest.

Y/n smiles how he falls blushy and gif eye contact with her in this state. Therefore, she hugs him a bit tighter before closing her eyes and falling asleep again on Sunday morning.

mischievous cat :)

Y/n sits on one of the chairs at the white table. Her chin hangs over the computer as she stares at the black cursor. Though she has fallen into the digital world and nothing seems to be able to force her out of it. All at once, her shoulder falls backwards and she lets out a pained sound as a weight with cold claws lands on her shoulders. Her hands let go of the keyboard and grab the silk fur of the one higher up.

“Juyeon, go off.” Y/n says, in which she only gets a meow for an answer.

��Juyeon, seriously, we’ve talked about this.”

Her words don't seem to reach him, or he doesn’t want to listen. His paws start to play with her hair and the collar of her shirt.

“I’ll give you attention later, I need to work.”

a/n: def not my best work. I promise to come back with something better! This took way to long than it should have🫠 thanks for reading💗

#deoboyznet #the boyz imagines #tbz imagines #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #juyeon imagines #juyeon scenarios #Lee Juyeon #juyeon the boyz #the boyz #juyeon tbz #tbz #Lee Juyeon the boyz #Lee Juyeon tbz #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #the boyz fanfic #tbz fanfic #juyeon fanfic

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abbatoirablaze · 2 months

Text

Behind Closed Doors, Chapter 2

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of bodily fluids.

“Fuck…”

Chris watched you like a hawk as the smallest of snores passed your lips. He smiled from his spot at the foot of the bed.

Shortly after you had fallen asleep, he’d gently spread you out on the bed so he could watch himself spilling from between your thighs.

He was obsessed with the amount of chemistry the two of you shared; and even more so with watching the after-effects of your relations spilling from your thoroughly used hole.

He smiled to himself, watching your body. He could picture you months from now, swelling with his child, his seed still spilling from your core because he couldn’t get enough. And neither could you.

The two of you had made a mess of the bed, you in particular leaving his sheets all but soaked as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you, before finally spilling his seed in your tight, warm channel.

But as you slept, part of him felt like the moment was so right.

You felt so right.

He knew that his decision to move forward in creating a family for himself had been the right one.

You looked at him owlishly as you were led into a room with a few other women.

It felt more like a lineup as the company’s manager Elroy Petashnik had the half a dozen women that Chris and his mother had picked out.

“You know, we don’t normally get a lot of parents coming in with their sons to pick out a girl…” Elroy chuckled as he gave Chris’ mother a tight-lipped smile, “Lisa-“

“You can call me Ms. C,” she said shortly, “and I came with my Christopher because this isn’t just a PR stunt. He wants to settle down…start a family. But he doesn’t want to just go on a dating site or meet someone off the street. He’s assured me that your company is the best in…whatever this is.”

“Think of me like a matchmaker,” he smiled softly, “Chris’ manager came to me because of success with previous clients.”

“Which was why I helped him narrow it down,” she answered, “I trust his manager with helping him make business decisions. One of these girls is to be part of our family. So, consider this meeting a preliminary test of that.”

“Noted,” he replied gently, “the women we have gathered are from the age range, and specifications that were given to us-“

“There weren’t more women?” Lisa scoffed.

“Mom…”

“These were the women that Mr. Evans and yourself had previously okayed, and that were alright with the possibility of leaving the company and having children,” Mr. Petashnik finished as Chris’ eyes trailed the line of women, stopping nearly at the end, his eyes meeting yours, “Mr. Evans, Ms. C, do you two have any initial questions before we go any further into this?”

You were gentle in how you raised your hand.

The other women avoided eye contact with you, the girls on either side, taking a step away from you and how you’d drawn the attention to yourself. They were having a discussion like the lot of you weren’t in the room, and while you had agreed to be put in the situation, you did in fact have questions of your own.

“Yes?” Chris asked softly, instantly drawn in by you.

“I just want to know how serious you are about this, Mr. Evans?” you asked softly.

Chris’ brow rose as he looked at you, “excuse me?”

“While I’m entirely open to the idea of settling down, I am curious about your motives,” you replied honestly, “I’m sure all of us have seen the type of situations you put yourself into with stories of you in the tabloids…and the characters you play aren’t a far cry from the press you get, are they? I guess, what I’m asking is, are you looking for a hole to fill, or a wife?”

Lisa laughed, clearly amused by how you were unafraid in addressing her son. But Chris crossed his arms, trying to keep his cool, “I can assure you, that I’m looking to settle down. But out of curiosity, what character exactly are you referring to?”

“I’m sure we’ve all seen Not Another Teen Movie,” you giggled softly, “you seem quite like Jake Wyler…”

“You think I’m just some empty-headed guy looking for a quick fix or a woman to change on a bet?”

“Well, you aren’t looking for a banana split!” you teased softly. Lisa laughed from beside her son, making a comment about ‘liking you already.’

“Don’t worry…I’ll save the banana split for the third date!” he teased; his own smile unable to be held back by how you challenged him. His eyes fell away from yours as he tried to look at the other women in the group to see if they had any fire to them, “does anyone else have any questions?”

“Chris…”

He shifted in his chair, his attention going from your core to your eyes, and how you were sitting up, sleepily wiping your eyes.

He hadn’t realized how his throat went dry.

Or how he had been lost in his train of thought, thinking about the first time he’d met you, and how far the two of you had come in just those two months of interviews and two weeks of being together.

“Hmm?”

“A-are you watching me sleep again?”

A blush rose to his cheeks, and he nervously bit his upper lip as he eyed you down, “Maybe…”

“You watching it slip out of me won’t keep it in or speed up the process that we’re going through,” you teased, “it won’t knock me up any faster.”

“Only one way to do that!” he smirked, sitting forward, “knocking you up, that is. And that means me putting even more in any time I see it slipping out of you…”

“Well, what are you doing out of bed then, big guy?” you asked gently, motioning for him to come back to bed, “waiting for all of your hard work to make an appearance before you slide back in?”

Chris chuckled to himself for a moment before standing from his chair and walking over to the side of the bed, where the blanket had fallen off during the heat of the moment hours earlier.

“You’re tired!” he reminded you as he slipped onto the bed; the mattress dipping ever so slightly as his weight added to it, “I’m not going to make you even more exhausted…”

“Please do,” you grinned, “I love how well I sleep after I’ve been thoroughly tired out!”

“Yeah?” he asked, “you know…I never noticed it until earlier, but you have the cutest, small little snores when I fuck all the energy out of you…”

“Oh, do I?”

He nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as he wrapped his arms around you, “yes…and honestly, I’m not sure whether I like having sex with you more, or watching how peaceful you are after we’ve gone a few rounds…”

“Chris Evans…wants to take breaks during sex?” you teased, pressing another kiss to his lips, “who is this man, and what has he done to the future father of my child?”

“Made him sentimental, is all…at least a little bit,” he shrugged gently, “Makes my urge to fill you even stronger…but I’m not going to just cum in you because I can…”

“I thought you wanted to use me all the time!” you answered, reminding him of the conversation the two of you had during one of the final interviews, “remember? What happened to that man?”

“Exclusivity!” he said slowly, eyeing your reaction, as he looked over the checklist he’d created for the final interview, “what are your thoughts on it?”

“If you really do want to have children and settle down, then it’s the only right answer. At least if you want a promise that any child would be yours genetically,” you replied gently, “that is still what you want, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he agreed, “just-last interview I guess it took one of the girls off guard when I mentioned it. She seemed to think that she would be able to take bookings outside of that.”

“I read up on what the BCD contract is,” you admitted, “ I know that it refers to far more than just the standard PR contract. Pretty much it would be me agreeing to leave the company for minimum of a year. It buys you exclusive rights to me and that time is allotted for you and I to come to a decision on children.”

“You’d move in with me.”

“I assumed as much,” you laughed softly, “you’re okay with paying the short-notice clause on my lease to get me out of it?”

“And I’d pay first and last if it doesn’t work out to ensure that you’re okay,” he reminded you, “that’s still part of the deal.”

“So…if I pass the final interview,” you shrugged, giving him a soft look, “when would this…start?”

“This?” he asked, his brow raising.

“This,” you replied, gesturing between the two of you, “the past few months, you’ve gotten to know me and a few of the other girls. I’m assuming since it’s down to me and Violet, that you’re almost at a decision and this is the final one…you already interviewed her…and you’re still interviewing me…and since you said that you spoke to the ‘other girl,’ and she had exclusivity issues, that it’s me or you going back to square one…so…when would ‘we’ start? Officially?”

“As a couple?” he asked, ignoring how you had managed to sort out that even though he had interviewed Violet he was less than impressed with her inability to keep up her charade of what was supposed to be her personality.

“As a couple…moving in…trying for what you really want, Mr. Evans?”

“Chris…” he said softly, “it’s not about just what I want though. You have to want this too in order for it to work. I want a wife…not just a baby-making machine.”

“Chris…” you urged him, “if I didn’t want this, I would have said no after the first interview, or backed out months ago.”

He nodded, “We’d go over the rough draft of the contract…we both make any amendments and sign it this week…but I’ve already handed over final payment to Petashnik. Realistically, I’d want you to move in with me tonight…we’d ‘start’ right now.”

“Okay…”

“Okay?” he asked, his own chuckle passing his lips, “you sound awfully alright with that. That isn’t short notice?”

“Chris…you’ve been interviewing me for two months…and quite honestly, a lot of those interviews, felt more like dates than anything else…haven’t they?”

He sat there for a moment, thinking about it.

He nodded.

You were right.

In the time that he’d spent interviewing you and the other women, they had been like small dates. Sure, they were all inside the office, but it felt like he’d gotten to know you in an intimate setting. In one where it felt very much like he was already dating you. A few of the times there had even been drinks and dinner involved.

“Sex…”

You laughed, “yeah? What about it?”

“We haven’t had it yet…”

“I’m fully aware, Christopher.”

The way you said his name made a shiver run down his spine. It made something deep within himself wake up and snap to attention.

“I want you available at all times…” he said quickly, “is that okay?”

“Well…you did want to settle down…have children,” you offered with a shrug, “I would expect that we have a lot of sex if we’re trying for kids.”

“Wh-what if I wanted to….and you were asleep…”

“You could wake me up,” you offered, “or not…and just do it…”

His brow raised, “Really?”

You nodded, “Sure…I mean…we’d be dating, right? On our way to becoming married? And we’re trying to have a kid…I wouldn’t expect you to wait…or so much as waste a drop…”

“Right…”

“Chris…” He hummed against you. Your hand reached up and gently stroked his cheek, pulling his cerulean eyes toward your own, “are you okay?”

He nodded, giving you a soft, delicate look, “Yeah…yeah…I just…I’ve been thinking about us a lot…”

You giggled, “we’ve only been together for two weeks, Chris. We just finished the final draft of the contract and signed it last week…”

“I know…”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Honestly?”

You nodded, your eyes meeting his once more, and he noted the slightest bit of worry, “Chris…is everything okay?”

“I think I love you, (Y/N.)”

Chapter 3

#behind closed doors #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfic

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farfromstrange · 1 year

Text

Foreigner's God Masterlist

PAIRING: Matt Murdock x OFC

AO3 — Spotify — #foreigner’s god

❝ Sometimes, the greatest power lies not in what we can control, but in what we can uncover within ourselves. In the depths of darkness, secrets await, and it is our choice to embrace them or let them consume us. Together, they embarked on a journey to unearth the truth, unaware that love, like a tempest, would shatter all their plans and rebuild their world anew. ❞

⤹ SUMMARY:

She was born with the ability to manipulate reality and the world around her. Hydra raised her and turned her into their deadliest weapon until the Avengers saved her and offered her a chance at a better life. A dark past often comes with secrets that demand to be uncovered. There might actually be more to it than meets the eye, a kind of power that’s been sleeping deep within her, waiting to be discovered. But how does one get over losing everything without losing themselves?

One reckless night on a rooftop, a bad decision leads the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen right into her arms, and he decides to tag along on her journey down the past.

As it turns out, Matt Murdock is a man unable to take no for an answer when he has set his mind to something, and once she decides to let him into her heart, all the plans she made for the future fall apart.

Or, in which a troubled Avenger forms an alliance with Daredevil to fight a common enemy and save their city, but they end up saving each other instead.

⤹ CONTENT WARNINGS:

SLOW BURN, Canon typical violence, ANGST, EVENTUAL SMUT, light BDSM, Oral sex, daddy kink, praise & pain kink, blood & cum play, Switch!Matt, toxic behavior, language, severe mental illness, PTSD, implied/referenced torture, substance abuse disorder, self-harm, mentions of sexual assault, Hydra, age gap, religious imagery and symbolism, eventual romance, some fluff, mutant powers, mentions of child molestation, near-death experiences, catholic guilt, NOT TONY STARK FRIENDLY (at least until chapter 40 or so), turning good characters into bad guys, not completely canon compliant

-> There will be chapter-specific warnings before each chapter because they tend to vary with each one!

⤹ AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hello everyone! I didn’t expect this to blow up the way it did, so I decided to edit the entire Masterlist and repost it while I continue editing the chapters on AO3 and here, too. Welcome to everyone who’s new here!

Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

I’m trying not to describe any specific physical traits like body shape, hair color, etc. (although I think I called her skin “pale” once or twice in reference to her lack of sun exposure) in any of the chapters. The character was assigned female at birth and also identifies as female with she/her pronouns, but other than that, I do not give her any traits other than her name – Eliza Bennett. Her looks are entirely up to your imagination! So you can view this as a reader insert or not, whatever you want. It’s up to you how you interpret this story.

-> Series takes place in early season 2 and continues from there on.

-> This work is 18+ ONLY!

[the asterisk (*) indicates explicit sexual content; (^) indicates the chapter has been edited to fit the new style]

— ACT ONE: HYDRA —

chapter one: I Did Something Bad (^)

chapter two: Raise A Little Hell (^)

chapter three: I Think He Knows (^)

chapter four: This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things (^)

chapter five: Hold Me While You Wait (^)

chapter six: Ivy (^)

chapter seven: right where you left me (^)

chapter eight: doomsday (^)

chapter nine: Block Me Out (^)

chapter ten: 1 step forward, 3 steps back (^)

chapter eleven: New Invention (^)

chapter twelve: It’s Nice To Have A Friend (^)

chapter thirteen: Devil Town (^)

chapter fourteen: Family Line (^)

chapter fifteen: So it goes…* (^)

chapter sixteen: Do I Wanna Know?* (^)

chapter seventeen: Look Who’s Inside Again (^)

chapter eighteen: Anti-Hero (^)

chapter nineteen: You’re On Your Own Kid (^)

chapter twenty: Innocent* (^)

chapter twenty-one: Green, Green Dress*

chapter twenty-two: mirrorball*

chapter twenty-three: The Avengers (pt.1)

chapter twenty-four: The Avengers (pt.2)

chapter twenty-five: For Real This Time

chapter twenty-six: Black Out Days

chapter twenty-seven: Dear Reader

chapter twenty-eight: Look What You Made Me Do

chapter twenty-nine (Bonus Chapter): Haunted

chapter thirty: Hayloft II

chapter thirty-one: Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)

chapter thirty-two: Chasing Cars

chapter thirty-three: How To Save A Life

chapter thirty-four: Foreigner’s God(*)

chapter thirty-five: long story short*

chapter thirty-six: this is me trying*

chapter thirty-seven: New Romantics*

chapter thirty-eight: Lavender Haze*

chapter thirty-nine: As It Was*

chapter forty: Monster*

chapter forty-one: Daylight

— ACT TWO: PUNISHER —

chapter forty-two: I’ll Get The Coffee*

chapter forty-three: She Knows*

chapter forty-four: Cold As You

chapter forty-five: Bird Set Free

chapter forty-six: Human*

chapter forty-seven: Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve (^)

chapter forty-eight: Bad Blood (^)

chapter forty-nine: Dark Paradise (^)

chapter fifty: Meet Me In The Hallway (^)

chapter fifty-one: Demons (^)

chapter fifty-two: Say You Won't Let Go (^)

chapter fifty-three: I Will Be Your Remedy (^)

chapter fifty-four: Dancing With The Devil (^)

chapter fifty-five: Why Am I Like This? (^)

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profanepurity · 1 year

Note

just because I want to make myself cry more, about how old were Liliths’ children when they were killed. Can she also drop her “how to get a hot monster boyfriend(s) in ten steps” YouTube tutorial, I need it for a friend, thanks

I thought this ask might be perfect to give a peek at the WIP for Lilith's character sheet. Adam really did absolutely nothing to have this woman as his wife, and you know what he did? He really took one look at her and said, "Submit". 🤡 Like, ok buddy lol.

But as for your questions, I'm going to answer them under the cut just in case! I'm very excited to answer these 🖤

Tw for under the cut: Mentions of child death, sex, and abuse

How old were Lilith's children when they were killed?

That's a good question, but the answer is a bit uncertain. Stay with me while I give some context lol. If you look at some of the stories about her within Judaic mythology, she is a demon that roams the desert. Specifically in The Book of Isaiah, she is referred to as a "Night Demon" or "The Night Monster" (Isaiah 34:14). This is related to the original interpretation of her being a vengeful spirit that steals and kills children at night, specifically male babies. Now, there is a whole layer of issues that I could get into with this, but I'm going to stick to two main points for this:

Her "reason" for wanting revenge comes from the punishment that God placed on her. When she was found in her cave by God's angels, they tried to force her to come back to the Garden of Eden, which she ran from after refusing to submit to Adam. Because of her disobedience, the children that she has already had, and assumingly will have, will die every day (as some text describes her as either being pregnant or having children with her in the cave when the angels find her). Sometimes there's a number attached to this, like "100 children a day", and we could also get into a whole discussion about demon litters lol, but for now let's run with the fact that every child she had was killed. This leads me to my second point...

Lilith is also described as being the wife of Samael, who in Judaic mythology is the angel of death. I find it really interesting how Lilith is associated heavily with child death, while also being seen as the wife of, essentially, the grim reaper. It is also important to note that the children she is bearing are not clearly identified to be Adam's or Samael's.

Here is my twisted ass take, now finally getting into your question:

I find it very hard to believe that Lilith would refuse to be seen as a sex object for one man, but then run into a marriage with another. Even if, in the time span of her escaping the Garden, she did fall in love with Samael, why would she marry him? The dynamic of marriage within this context and time period was very much so "women are the subordinate" when Lilith's main objective is to be seen as an equal to her partner.

My take is she got with Samael so that he would help her escape the Garden. While Samael is a darker figure, he is still in alignment with God, sometimes even interpreted as one of the 7 archangels.

But weren't angels cast out of heaven for coupling with human women? Yup, but I can also see Samael simply getting a slap on the wrist and dismissed because of his special privilege as "the venom of God", while Lilith gets the full blow of God's wrath, especially if those children weren't his, but Adam's. You can also consider the power dynamic that Samael has over Lilith. It is one thing for her to refuse a man, but to refuse The Angel of Death, as a human woman, is entirely different. What other choice did she have but to agree to be his wife in order to escape?

As for her children, I really don't see how they could have been very old at all when they died. The stories don't give an exact time frame, but it does seem like it took a fair amount of time for the angels to find Lilith in her cave. I can easily see it being around 2-4 years, maybe less. So assuming she got pregnant or was in the early stages of pregnancy when she fled the Garden, her children were probably within that range of years as well.

Now this is really fucked up, but if God's punishment was to have Lilith's children be killed every single day, regardless of the number, that very well might mean she was constantly having children with Samael in order for the curse to continue. Why would she continue having kids knowing the consequence? I'm not going to get too into that, because that is quite dark, but it seems possible considering Samael was still an angel of the Lord, meaning he would also act upon God's will.

Her children were all very young when they died.

“How to get a hot monster boyfriend(s) in ten steps”

Please let me know if you guys would like a comic for this because I would be so down to draw it! I can't wait to show you guys more of the relationship that Lilith has with her Kings.

For now, though, her main tips would be:

Look them in the eyes when they try to scare you. Once they see you are not afraid, they will stop baring their teeth.

Make sure they are well fed, and that their needs are taken care of properly. It's important to take care of your pets.

Remind them that they are not monsters to you, but the ones that showed you what love is supposed to look like.

I hope this doesn't make you cry too much, anon 🖤💐

#praeteritum au #lilith #demons #archangel samael #character sheet #asks answered #asks are always appreciated #tw mentions of sex #tw mentions of abuse #tw mentions of death #cw child death

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niobe-loreley · 1 year

Text

Heaven Is In A Shortcake {xiv}

THIS IS JAPANESE LUNCH TIME RUSH (who understood the reference?)

disclaimer: The Gray Man and the characters are NOT mine, even the reader. I only own the plot and the reader's character lol. Pictures used in the fic are NOT MINE, but only the edited version (u can msg me if u ze owner); credits to the rightful owners and canva + weheartit. Additionally, I am not a Subic/Zambales native, so my apologies for any wrong locations, descriptions, or languages.

Six x F!Reader / Courtland Gentry x Female Reader

warning: moderate amount of swear words. some filipino dialogues. slow burn. fluff. trust issues. dramaramramamama. comedy if you use a magnifying glass. culture shock. word count check. slightly proofread/revised.

CHAPTER SELECTION IS IN THE ✨Masterlist✨ Chapter 13 is still a newborn fawn Chapter 14 is 13's twin

word count: 3k (N/N) = nickname *Kiara = Clare *Kurt = Court *cover names = reader doesn't know (except you DO know #wreckthe4thwall)

There’s something about you— Claire mentally remarks as she scrutinizes you behind the counter. She already knows you’re one of those ‘one of a kind’ persons, but there’s something different in your atmosphere for this past week. Claire just cannot pinpoint what it is. What she can pinpoint are the specifications as to why she’s concluded something is different about you.

You’re not being passive-aggressive towards Court anymore

Claire knows the reason for that. When she noticed that he’s not being mean to you during their Monday breakfast, Claire asked him about it and he truthfully told her on their way home. She’s extremely glad, huzzah-ing every time she sees you and Court interacting without avoiding eye contact or having tight-lipped smiles.

"What's with the huzzahs?" you'd ask, because Court already knows why.

"Just feeling festive," Claire would reply, grinning toothily.

2. You’ve become more bubbly than you've ever been

There's a bounce in your step that's more jubilant than the bounce you've had before. If Claire hasn't known you for almost four months, she might've not noticed it. She notes the way you start your gait off with a skip and end with a tiny bounce.

"Somebody's in a good mood," Claire says when she first notices the extra zeal you're emitting.

You dramatically bat your eyelashes at her. "Whatever do you mean, milady?"

"Erick gave you a present or something?" Claire teases.

"Oh, he, um.. I," you cut yourself off, clearing your throat, and you bashfully glance at Court. "We actually—"

"Hey, that's none of your business." Court flicks a balled up tissue at Claire, hitting her on the forehead.

"Ouch!"

You chuckle. "Alright, I'm stopping this banter before it starts."

You thought you've hidden it well, but Claire catches the brief dejected look you gave Court. As though you missed an opportunity to say something. However, what Claire mostly perceives is that—

3. Your face gains more color whenever you're talking or looking at Court

“Reverse— reverse— wild card— and uno," Court grins as he holds up his remaining card.

You heatedly huff. "Plus four!" and place the card down.

"Plus four back," he snickers, dropping his own 4+ card.

Your jaw drops, and so did Claire's. But you quickly recover first. "This is the first time you beat me, huh?" you smirk and start cleaning up the cards, "I wonder who taught you that combo.."

"I've been taught by the best." says Court, discreetly nodding at you.

You laugh, maybe a little too loud; the other customers in this fine Saturday evening glance over at you momentarily. And maybe that’s why your face is more redder than usual. But when your amusement has dissipated and you make eye contact with Court, the color in your cheeks doubles.

“Order for Table 7!” Muro announces as he deposits a tray with two plates of carbonara and a bowl with four garlic bread.

You flinch, reeling out of your daze, and you excuse yourself with a laugh. “Gotta get some dough,” you remark playfully.

“Go get ‘em.” Court cheers, stifling his smile.

Claire once again catches the flare in your cheeks before you turn away. “Something’s..” she hums, clipping her chin between her fingers. “Something’s a-happening.”

“Hm? What is it?” Court asks.

She shortly scrunches up her nose. “I’ll tell you once I have solid proof.”

He chuckles. “Alright, detective.” and sips on his cup of warm, white chocolate mocha. His eyes are on a certain waitress, the only waitress in the cafe tonight— which is you, if that isn’t obvious.

Claire doesn’t comment on it, but she has most certainly reacted. Court is too busy staring after you to see Claire's toothy grin.

And she still hasn't released the expression by the time you're serving them dinner. Court notices this and he's slightly freaked out. "What's wrong with your face?" he whispers just before you reach their table.

"Mind if I inquire why you're mimicking the Cheshire Cat?" you ask, snorting.

Claire opens her mouth for a cheeky retort, when somebody noisily bursts in the cafe. "Honey, I brought guests!" Erick exclaims with a slight yodel.

Court glances over his shoulder, immediately regretting it. A hundred emotions tweak on his face faster than the speed of light. Bewilderment. Displeasure. Contempt. Anger. Despair. Those are some of Court's emotions that Claire manages to perceive. And she knows the reason behind each one of them.

"Erick!" you blink, dumbfounded. "What are you doing here?"

"Mi amigos wanted something new, and they've never been to this cafe before," he replies as he puts an arm across your shoulders, smiling lopsidedly.

"Oh, well.. sit anywhere you like—"

"Oh, no, no, no, honey. We'll take-out our orders. They just wanted to see what the cafe was like."

"And we're definitely coming back here some other day," one of his friends chimes in.

"Unless, of course," Erick shifts a little and, making you face him, he leisurely slides his arm down from your shoulders and tightens it around your waist, "you want me to stay?"

For a moment, Claire thinks about getting cardiac arrest while actually feeling she's in cardiac arrest. She needs to separate you and Erick, for Court's sake. Despite the cruel reality that his chances with you have gotten slimmer than an ANTM's body, Claire is still rooting for you and Court.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow!"

Everyone is stunned by the scene, until Erick's friends erupt with laughter, while Claire and Court share puzzled looks. You have grabbed Erick by the ear and twisted it in an unlawful way.

"Boundaries, man." you say chidingly to Erick and glance at his friends, "Right this way if you want to order!"

"Ca-Can you let go of my ear first— OW!"

Claire notices something unsettling about Court. "What's going on with your mug?" she asks, perplexed by his wildly amused demeanor.

"Dinner and a show," he answers and suppresses a laugh when he witnesses you giving one last forceful twist on Erick's ear before releasing it.

"I feel like I might pass out," Claire huffs and puffs.

"Why is that??" you and Court chorus worriedly.

She grins. "'Cuz I'm so full!"

"Please, don't joke about that." you say as you return to clearing out their table, eyeing the teenager for any signs of fainting.

"But I'm serious, though. Quick!— Make me laugh so I'll digest quickly!"

"You mean, so you'll puke easily?" Court chimes in with a smirk.

"How about a short walk outside?" you suggest and carefully hoist up the tray filled with their dishes, "The Boardwalk isn't too cold nor too warm this time of year."

Claire snaps her fingers. "That's a great idea! And it'll even be greater if you walk along with us!"

"Of course, it's a great idea! I— wait, what?" you do a double-take at the teenager, who suddenly conjures her puppy-dog mien. You feel your self-control churning in your stomach and you nervously laugh, "Kurt, please tell your daughter that I won't be able to join since I'm at work."

Court looks at you and then at Claire. "Ah, food coma." he blankly cries out and feigns to faint, head slumping back against the backrest of the booth.

Muro appears beside you. "Alright! I'll take it from here!"

You sigh in relief. "Thank you— wait," you frown quizzically at him, and before you can react, Muro snatches the tray of dishes from you. "Hey!"

"And you won't be needing this outside!" Mindy pops up from behind you and swiftly takes your apron off at the speed of light.

You stammer a protest while Claire clutches your arm and hauls you out of the cafe. Court trails behind, smiling amusedly. The moon and stars are out and gleaming, and the city lights twinkle back at them. There's laughter ringing through the sea breeze, which leaves a warm aftertaste in each of its chilly gust.

"This is a me versus the world kind of thing going on here," you comment in between your final opposition, and when you start walking on sand, you zip your lips and yield to the serenity of the nocturnal stroll.

Claire is still at your side, arm looped around yours, grinning effervescently. She pauses from star-gazing and takes a gander. She sees Court treading behind, gestures for him to come closer, and slows down her gait. He obliges without a word, astonishment painting his features when Claire loops her other arm around his. She shortly squeezes her hold on you and Court before adding a bounce in her step.

Court exchanges dumbfounded looks with you. This moment would've been totally normal if it weren't for your physiology experiencing aberration whenever you make eye contact with your crush. Blood automatically rushes up your cheeks, you ignore it and give a sheepish grin. He returns the expression with a small laugh, glances at Claire, and eyes the world around the three of you.

You admire him admiring the world. Counting from one to three, you then avert your gaze to the city life bustling on the outskirts of the Boardwalk. The smell of the sea and grilling restaurants mingle in your olfactory. It's been a long while since you've had a stroll, deeply breathing in and out, you fight back a contented shudder. But Court notices the infinitesimal quake in your shoulders.

"Are you cold?" he inquires, halting his tracks, he's about to remove his jacket. You're only wearing the signature brown-collared shirt of the cafe's uniform, denim shorts, and thigh-high socks.

"Oh, no, I'm not cold!" you reply with a laugh, "I'm just.. thrilled, you know? Been a while since I've walked along the beach."

"You should thank yourself for that 'cuz you suggested it," says Claire.

"You know what? I will."

"That's right, raise that self-esteem!"

The three of you are 5 minutes away from the cafe now, 3 minutes if you sprint like an Olympic runner. A group of guys are playing basketball on the nearby court where sand meets concrete. "Oh, there's a fountain over there, would you two like to see it?" you point towards a miniature park.

"Sure," Court and Claire say in unison, though the teenager has a more gleeful tone.

You're about to take another step when you notice something soaring towards you. "Woah!" you yelp as you catch a basketball.

"Sorry, miss!" one of the guys starts to jog towards you.

You lob the ball at him. "Sa susunod kasi, sa kakampi niyo ipasa."

Next time, pass it to your teammate.

His other friends erupt with oooh's and taunts, while the guy stops to catch the ball. "Baka lang naman gusto kita makausap," he replies, smirking.

Maybe it's because I just want to talk to you.

"Edi tanga ka. Sana lumapit ka kesa nambato ka ng bola." you scoff and gesture for the father-daughter duo, "Let's go."

"Single ka, no? Walang magkakagusto sa'yo 'pag pinagpatuloy mo yung ugali na 'yan!" he angrily yells.

You're single, ain't you? No one will like you if you continue with that attitude!

You try to hold back, but the retort has already turned the keys and launched out the missiles. "At ikaw naman? Single kasi para kang pwet ng manok na putak ng putak!"

How about you? You're single 'cause you're like a chicken's ass that keeps on spouting!

Claire barks out a laugh, while Court glances away to hide his smile. You feel a sense of pride, simultaneously a tinge of embarrassment for loosening the chains on your warfreakness.

The three of you arrive at the fountain with no further catcalls or distractions. Claire roams around, snapping pictures as she goes, while you take a seat on the rim of the fountain's basin. Court strolls around the small park, like a bodyguard securing the area, and afterwards, he heads towards the fountain. Specifically towards you.

Your heart has skipped, tripped, and cartwheeled even before Court sits beside you. However, he leaves a respectable space between the two of you, and part of you wants nothing more than to erase the distance. Because of that, you don't have the courage to look at him; or else your face will put an erupting volcano to shame.

You keep your eyes on Claire instead. Even when you perceive Court looking at you in your peripheral vision.

Five minutes pass by like that, yet the silence between you and Court is comfortable. Claire's giggling and the camera snapping are the only consistent noise mingling with the quietness, as well as the vague crash of the waves against the shore. You see distant people strolling by the beach, some kids are even running around and tripping, sand particles flying and glinting under the moonlight.

"Okay, let's go!" Court suddenly says, rising up.

You blink at him. "What?"

He holds his hand out to you. "It's already been 5 minutes since we left the cafe. You're still working, right?"

"Yeah, you need to get back to work!" Claire exclaims, hopping next to Court, she outstretches a hand to you, while her other hand is used to snap a picture of you.

You blink out the flashes, glance at each the father-daughter duo, and stifle a laugh. "Okay, let's go," you grab their hands, "But are you two sure you're done sightseeing?"

Claire nods. "Yup! And don't worry, we can sightsee some other time! And (N/N) will be our tour guide," she looks up at Court, "Right, dad?"

"Of course," Court replies, but he's looking at you.

You gulp down your heart when it somersaults up your throat. Fire grows in your cheeks, and you hope the sea breeze that's flurrying by will extinguish it. "W-Well, that's good.. so you two have other places to go other than the cafe." you say, mentally noting how the father-daughter duo are still holding your hands.

"Like we'll ever get tired of the cafe." Claire snorts and tugs on your hand, "C'mon, let's go back!"

You let Claire pull you to a slow gait, and when you feel Court loosening his grip, you tighten your hold on his hand. "Hey," you shortly frown at him over your shoulder, "no letting go."

His eyes widen as he's forced to follow after your and Claire's strides. Soon, astonishment is melted by relief— and something else that you can't decipher. Court smiles at you, the most genuine kind of smile, and you can't help but smile back, the sheepish kind mixed with something unknown.

You stammer. "I mean, I'm the tour guide, so—"

"Alright," Court grips your hand affectionately, "No letting go."

Officially, your heart has gone boom-boom, bye-bye.

"Bye-bye, (N/N)!"

"Bye-bye, Claire!"

"Will you go to Lilia's later?"

"Yeah, I will! Have a safe drive home!"

You watch the father-daughter duo climb in the car before you step back in the cafe. There's only a few customers now, and with only one hour until closing time. But for some reason, one hour feels like an eternity.

You've lost count on how many times Mindy and Muro have asked you to relay the events of this evening's stroll. They repeatedly asked because even when you left out the part where you held hands with Claire and Court during the last bit of the stroll, blood would rush up your neck and face. With that, the couple knows something more happened. It's not like you want to hide it, but…

For some reason, you want those moments with the father-daughter duo just for yourself. As though disclosing it to anyone else will break the magic spell— which is the mystery of why Claire and Court seem to like you.

Shaking your head, you forcibly reel yourself out of your stupor before you fall down that rabbit hole again. You envy Alice for reaching the bottom of her rabbit hole, since yours will most likely be a bottomless pit. You let out a deep sigh through your nose, briefly expelling the scent of coffee, and glance at the wall clock, which indicates 9:40— 50 minutes before work ends.

One way to quicken time is to be busy, so you clear your thoughts and get to waiting tables, blending drinks, and washing dishes.

And just like that, it's closing time.

You chuckle to yourself, contemplating how funny time is. When you're not doing anything, it's slow. But when you're doing something, it gets faster. You find that hilarious, but sometimes you despise time for speeding up when you're enjoying someone else's company. Your inner self coughs and indiscreetly hangs up a portrait of Court and Claire on the wall. You find a vase to throw at your inner self and focus on driving to the hotel where Lilia's family resides.

The girl hasn't come to work for a week as she's taking care of her younger sibling, who had gotten sick. Lilia went to the cafe earlier to inform you that she might take another week off in case she caught her sister's cold.

That's why here you are now, driving to their current residence to give them leftovers from the cafe— chicken sinigang.

"Ay, pota." you angrily mutter when a raindrop and two spatters on your face.

You swiftly park your motorcycle by the curb and unwrap the jacket from your waist. "Please be a light rain," you sigh, slipping on the jack.

As you're zipping the jacket close, you hear a car parking behind you. But instead of shutting the engine, the driver switches on the high-beams. You glance over your shoulder as the hazard lights begin to blink.

You gesture that you'll be going now— but then another car halts in front of you, turns on their high-beams and hazard lights, and revs their engine.

Panic pumps through your heart and you feel the pulse in your throat drum wildly beneath your skin. Both cars start to inch closer towards you, and before you're completely boxed in, you hastily urge your motorcycle away from the curb. The dark heavens shriek with multiple thunders, drowning out practically every other sound, yet you hear the engines revving behind you.

Glancing over your shoulder, you see the two cars following after you. The increasing rain and their high-beams make it hard for you to perceive your pursuers. Whoever they are, evidently they are no friend.

A/N: dfdddfjksf who the fuck is chasing our dear reader?! of course, i know~ but what are your guesses? hehehe

Chapter 15 is under now constructed ion

✨TAGLIST✨

@kat-thepoet @queenofhellhasrisen @sierrasixswife @vallyb @lyuir @yvxcy @justareaderdude @sortingharryshairclip

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aspoonofsugar · 1 year

Note

have you. heard of the fairy tale known as ‘the juniper tree’. it’s among the stories in the grimm brothers’ collection, and today while i was looking for people talking about oscar pine’s bandages, i.

what the crap.

fair warning, the juniper tree has depictions of child abuse, gore and death, but also has *checks notes* reincarnation, and all the children involved living at the end, as a bright spot if you choose to pursue it despite these factors

in. in any case. if you’re down for speculation, how do you think this might come into play

person that was talking about the juniper tree again; what if, right. oscar has bandages more as a symbol of the connection rather than it being something in his past, and it has more to do with his oncoming dynamic with the remaining members of jnpr, since ‘the juniper tree’ does include rebirth after loss

i’d be very interested if it does hint to oscar’s character specifically, of course, but also. there’s a multitude of ways it could be interpreted

heheheheho

Hi!

Sorry for the late reply.

Yes, I know about the Juniper Tree, but tbh I don't think it is referenced directly in RWBY... at least not yet, but it is definately a story I am keeping an eye out for ;)

That said, Oscar is not my top candidate to get the reference, but Jaune is tbh.

Team Juniper is Jaune's team and it lost a member. I know the fandom likes to see Oscar as JNR's fourth member and for symbolic purposes he is. However, I think the narrative is going rathe slowly when it comes to integrate Oscar into Juniper.

So far, RWBY is treated as a team and JNR as another team. Oscar is an important part of the group, but doesn't belong to any specific team. Rather he works with everyone and tries to step into the role of "Wizard". He is basically JNR's fourth member, but also isn't. If that makes sense. This also illustrates rather well the process of grieving JNR goes through and them slowly overcoming Pyrrha's loss.

I would also add that even if structurally Oscar "replaces" Pyrrha as our 8th main character, he doesn't have much to do with her. Like, he foils Penny much stronger, for example. Moreover, even if he is clearly a foil to Jaune, he is so far much more intertwined to Ruby's story.

In any case, JNPR is Jaune, Nora, Pyrrha and Ren. Pyrrha dies and the other 3 are left struggling with it. Jaune more than anyone else. This is why if RWBY intends to adapt the fairy tale in any form, I think it will be with him. I mean, we are even in a volume which centers around a tree :P

That said, I don't think the fairy tale will be adapted literally (if it is even referenced). Rather, it is probably going to be a thematic nod. Its main topic is after all the idea of death and rebirth. The Juniper's tree is able to resurrect the brother and the Ever After will probably regenerate Jaune's sense of self.

On a very extra note, which probably means nothing... the Juniper Tree's fairy tale takes elements from both Snowhite and Cinderella. This is funny because I think both Weiss and Cinder are gonna be especially important for Jaune's arc.

So, we have 2 different interpretations (both very loose of course and just headcanon by this point rather than meta-analysis):

The Juniper Tree represents JNPR's healing and resurrection through them "adopting" a Pine :P

The Juniper Tree represents Jaune's struggle with grief

Both can work, but also... the fairy tale may not mean anything at all :'')

That said, i think team JNPR being called after a tree is in itself interesting and meaningful. I am asking for @hamliet help, but I think in alchemy there is something called a Philosophical Tree, which is seen as a precursor of the Philosopher Stone:

Known to alchemists as the arbor philosophica, or philosophical tree, the tree of life stands for the opus alchymicum, the alchemical process regarded as a preliminary stage of the perfection to which alchemists aspire.

(Also, this is where we are in the story, as well :P the characters are going through a stage to refine themselves and going towards silver and gold)

Team RWBY is called after the philosopher stone (ruby = a stone) because they ARE the stone. They are all the ingredients and phases (black, white, yellow and red) that make up the final product. Team JNPR is then called after another way to define the process, which is the philosophical tree. They are just as important and are going through the same refinement journey. This may also be why Ren and Nora especially are so linked to flowers, which often accompany the process and the tree itself. Ren is the lotus and Nora is a pink flower. Finally, this team is welcoming Oscar Pine (pine = the tree).

So, we have:

Team RWBY with Ruby > the stone

Team JN(P)R with an innested Pine > the tree

Two ways to illustrate the alchemical process.

Thank you for your ask!

#rwby #rwby volume 9 #jaune arc #oscar pine #team rwby #team jnpr #asksfullofsugar #anonymous

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vampalpatine-archive · 1 year

Note

Your post about Shiv made me think for a long while bc it's true that Shiv's trauma and specifically her trauma around sex is largely misinterpreted/outright ignored by the fandom but now I'm confused bc 1. when did Tom pressure Shiv to have sex??? I mostly remember her pushing Tom to do stuff he didn't want, even while he was clearly uncomfortable, but every time he tries to initiate something and she doesn't want it he backs off right away and doesn't push. The period tracking WAS creepy and I will definitely not be defending that, but Shiv would actually make annoyed faces if Tom didn't want to do what she had planned, and insist or ask "no?" in a mocking tone when he wasn't particularly enthusiastic about it. If he ever did that to her everyone would be calling it "rapey" but bc Shiv does it it's... Girlboss I guess. Idk.

And 2. I also think there needs to be a conversation about this definitely bc yeah the ear flick was weird and the way Shiv's face FALLS and she even steps back a little??? Holy shit. Literally what I did, gasped in shock and recoiled. HOWEVER. Putting my "this is a tv show and not reality" goggles on, to me context is important I mean she's kicking dirt over his shoes to humilliate him in public (nothing new there) and getting all up in his space and the flick read like Tom just needing to do something to get her to back the fuck up and leave him alone. I've seen people dismissing Shiv's abuse of Tom completely, through the years but especially this season. And I get it, Shiv is in a vulnerable state both bc of her father passing and bc she's pregnant and conflicted about it, but none of it justifies the way she has treated Tom and keeps treating him. He did not hit her, or push her, or even start commenting on her body the way she does to him constantly. He flicked her on the damn ear lol and I GET IT, I was lowkey horrified by it at first but looking at it from Tom's pov, I have been in a situation where someone kept coming at me and getting in my face so I get that reaction. Anyway. Yeah it was a weird scene Idk where the writers are going with this!!! If they make either of them start hitting the other I'm gonna be furious tho like that'd be the last straw of bad tomshiv plot points. Like if this is them trying to Logan-ify Tom more I'm gonna be so fucking pissed lol

god there's so much of this i disagree with, and it's so long... honestly i wasn't gonna answer i was gonna say something like "i ain't reading all that" with a shiv fancam or some shit. plus you just said you randomly saw my post so you don't follow me you'll probably not read this

but the notes on that post have been bothering me all day to the point where i'm seriously thinking of shutting the fuck up about succession, and i don't want to cause it's my fav show so i'm gonna answer at least to a few things

first of all, to your question "when did tom pressure shiv to have sex?" i simply recommend rewatching retired janitors of idaho as it has one of what i consider the most disgusting scenes of the show and if you don't agree with me in that that's him pressuring her then i simply don't think we'll be able to reach any mutual understanding here, which is okay i guess.

secondly, i don't think there's any scenes in the show where shiv pressures tom to have sex or do stuff he's not comfortable with in any way that i would deem "rapey" if shiv were a man. maybe you're referring to stuff like opening the relationship? or the threesome from 2x10? both of which i would call asshole moves AT WORST.

about the "this is a tv show not reality" thing i can only say that it was a post for my mutuals that i honestly didn't expect to win traction, in fact, it was a response to another post from a mutual i had just reblogged, so it wasn't even supposed to be read on its own. obviously you don't know me, but if you did you'd probably see why it's funny you'd say that. i don't think it's a bad thing that they included this scene of tom flicking shiv's ear, i don't think its wrong to keep having tom as your favorite character, or tomshiv as your favorite relationship. i think it's a very interesting scene that adds a lot of depth to his character and their relationship and i think liking complex characters who do bad shit is so incredibly fun.

also the way you said "hey he hit her but just a little bit not like he hit her for real" is exactly what i was criticising people saying in my original post so maybe next time when you read a post you don't agree with in such a fundamental level just move on it's not that deep. block me, even, if you see it more than once and it bothers you

to wrap this up i'll just say that i HOPE they keep loganifying tom, as the parallels with him and logan have been there since the beginning, it makes him 10 times more interesting and if you took that away he wouldn't be much of a character. i HOPE tomshiv never get a divorce, as i'm rooting for the cycle of abuse to never end and keep repeating itself, i consider succession a show that runs in circles (complimentary) and would be really disappointed if there was a sudden catharsis moment where anyone at all makes it out. if i had to bet, out of the two of us, i don't think i'm gonna be the one who ends up disappointed here

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rooftoprabbit · 2 years

Text

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 𝖁𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆 𝕮𝖚𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖉✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Summary | There's only so much someone can take before they break.

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Fluff, swearing, mentions of DV, Fem!Reader, Jason Carver, bullying, Eddie protecting reader, reader being a badass, few more cultural references, sad read

Author's Notes | This is Chapter 2 of the series (Chapter 1 is linked below and I'll create a Master List on my page shortly). This Chapter picks right back up from where the reader left Eddie in Chapter 1. This one is a heavy read but one I felt the reader needed to experience. I promise the next chapter is more light hearted! I hope you enjoy!

Word Count | 4.7k

Key | Pink Italics is reader’s internal monologue

Blue Italics is Eddie’s internal monologue

Bold Italics is a recall of a past event/encounter

If you liked it, please like and reblog and share it with your friends! Feedback is so incredibly welcomed!

I don't consent to my work being copied and posted on third party websites. Plagiary is a crime...you wouldn't steal a car

SERIES LIST

PT 1

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

1986

Eddie was right, there absolutely must be something in the Geneva Convention specifically written about how inhumane it was for Ms Fowler to be keeping you back 30 minutes for being 3 minutes late!!

Racing through the halls you bump into every person who wasn’t getting out of your way quick enough, simply screaming a “sorry” over your shoulder but keeping your attention ahead. You finally make it to the cafeteria doors with 20 minutes to spare. Bending down with your hands on your knees, you start to take in large breaths to compose yourself a bit more before entering. This was the first time since starting at Hawkins High that you were stepping foot into the cafeteria, instead opting to sit behind the music building listening to your cassettes on repeat until the bell went.

You open the doors and start to scan the room, clearly defining the stereotypes that have managed to converge together in one large hall and then isolate together so as not to break the status quo. The nerds were closer towards the door trying to be as far away from the jocks - Jason and his flock of sheep, who had all situated themselves over two cafeteria tables, obnoxiously laughing and making everyone around them incredibly uncomfortable. You hadn’t seen him since your little interaction in the gym earlier in the day. Avoid his gaze.

“Y/N, hey Y/N – over here!”. Looking to your right you see Eddie waving his hands furiously over his head like he’s trying to direct a plane into its landing gate. He’s surrounded by six other boys. Three of them looked about your age and the other two a few years younger. Thank god you’re hear, I haven’t scared you off.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

Eddie was kind, that you couldn’t deny. You didn’t understand why he was being so kind to you though. Maybe he took pity after having to hear the countless arguments had between you and your mum, or seeing you live 90% of your time outside of the trailer alone; somewhere that should be a safe place of refuge for you in this unfamiliar world. You had been used to staying out of the house though, finding space at your Uncle Mick’s place or a friends couch for the night after a fight with your mum. You didn't have that anymore.

You were tough, that you were sure of but your world shattered into a million pieces the day your mum said you were moving to the States. Not only had she made this decision without consultation with you, but she was purely moving in the hopes she would be welcomed back with open arms, ready to start anew and go back to the privileges of her old life. What you wanted and what you needed was never put into consideration, so you left your heart lying there in a million pieces, determined to leave the minute you stepped off that graduation stage. Determined to pick the pieces up all on your own.

Hawkins was temporary.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

“Hey Eddie” you say as you sit down at the end of the table next to the pale lanky kid who had now found his lunch so incredibly interesting, he couldn’t possibly look up to acknowledge you.

“Everyone, this is Y/N – the girl I was telling you about from gym class, she also lives in the same trailer park as me” Eddie says with a giant grin on his face, his eyes locked onto you.

You gave an awkward smile “Hi everyone, I hope it’s ok for me to be sitting here.”

They all gave you their best inviting smiles, yet you could feel they were somewhat cautious. The boy to Eddie’s right speaks first “soooo what brings you all the way from Down Under?” he says in possibly the worst Australian accent.

“Ohhh you know, mum felt like a fresh start and I guess that meant I get to have a front row seat to watch her mid-life crisis play out, lucky me” you scoffed.

They all looked bug eyed at each other, unsure on how to react to how critical of your mum you just were.

“You don’t have to look so tense guys, I’m aware that my sense of humour doesn’t always translate – but it’s fine. My life is a joke at this point. My mum expected to come back to a welcome home parade but all we got was a trailer park at the edge of town” laughing a bit harder to reassure them they could regulate their breathing again.

“I’ve only had a few conversations with Dundee here, you get used to her dry humour pretty quickly” Eddie gave you a smile as a show of comradery.

“A weird sense of humour and a badass attitude, that’s a pretty wicked combination” the boy in the blue and white cap pipes up.

“Sorry? Badass? I’m definitely not that. I’m just here to get my certificate and walk out those doors” giving him a confused look as if you had just forgotten what happened during gym.

The table erupts into laughter causing you to be even more confused than before.

“Great joke Y/N” the boy to the right of Eddie says.

A hush falls over the table as the boys look at each other realising you hadn’t heard yet.

“Even though Eddie just gave us a play-by-play of what happened during gym class, it’s already spread across the whole school. You’re pretty badass. Everyone who has ever had a problem with Jason sees you as their hero now. No one’s ever stood up to Jason’s incessant taunting before for fear of retribution, but you’ve made a name for yourself”. The table nods along in agreeance with what was just said.

He continues, “how rude of me, I’m Dustin Henderson – it’s a pleasure to meet you. Sitting next to you is Mike” and pointing to the boys across the table “Jeff, Gareth and Grant”.

“I’m no one’s hero. I said what I said to Jason to get him off my back. I’m happy just being a nobody like you guys, no offense. I’m just here to keep my head down, get my certificate and go back home”.

“No offense taken Y/N. We’re all just here trying to do the same thing” Eddie nods towards the boys who all agreed with your statement.

“Some more than others” Grant laughs nudging Gareth and Jeff who all start laughing towards Eddie.

“Shut the fuck up shithead” throwing a pretzel at Grant’s head.

“This is my year, I can feel it”. Eddie looks at you trying to send a telepathic message If you’re graduating, then so am I. I won’t leave your side.

You knew with your personality you could only stay quiet for so long – turns out ‘so long’ was two weeks. Jason just had to keep going at you. He was everything you hated about a person. Living in their picture-perfect family, behind their white picket fences. He never had to suffer through a hard day in his life but still felt he could torture people like you? Where did he get the balls to do that? Why does she want that life so desperately? Desperately enough to throw me to the curb.

“It doesn’t look like Jason’s taken what you did too well, I can feel the excruciating amount of heat emanating from their table” Dustin gives a nod in Jason’s direction with everyone turning in unison to see what he was talking about.

In the distance you could see Jason staring daggers into you. You had always been told the old myth that humans had a sixth sense of knowing when someone’s staring at you, but you never believed it until you were here in this room. You’d been able to feel it the whole time you’d been sitting at Eddie’s table, but you had managed to avoid his eye contact until now. As soon as you looked up your eyes locked in on Jason’s. You could feel the hatred seeping from every one of his pores for having humiliated him in front of his friends.

“Everyone hates his guts; it was just a matter of time before he got what was coming to him” Jeff gesturing to the rest of the group.

Anger filled you now, your gaze not leaving Jason, painful memories playing on loop in your head. “I hate kids like Jason, and I know hate is a strong word. I don’t usually give a shit what people do or say to me but people like Jason, who haven’t had to suffer through a day in their life come to school and fuck with us. Then they leave here, live off daddy’s credit card and just continue to profit off their family connections while the rest of us nobodies slug it out trying to keep the smile on our faces and food on our tables. Drowning; treading water to stay afloat”. You could feel a burn coming up your throat and tears in your eyes and take a large gulp of water to keep it down.

You thought no one had noticed, they had all nodded in agreement to what you had just said. Eddie noticed, and he felt he had heard you say that before. He recognised the sudden anger that engulfed you and recognised that he had seen the same expression over the summer break when you had first moved in. He had seen you angry quite a lot, but this was different. There was such pain behind those words.

It was more than just ‘feeling bad for the little guy’, this was personal.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

Eddie was sitting on his front porch when you first drove in with your mum. He watched as you sat in the front seat, with your headphones in and a solemn expression on your face, like you had just come back from a funeral.

It was quiet for a few days before the fighting started. At first it was just a few screams, the door slamming and you taking a walk to the woods behind the trailer park. A few hours later you would return and there would be quiet for a day or so before the fighting started again. A vicious cycle he could see you didn’t want to be involved in.

He got worried when he started hearing objects getting thrown and from what he saw, all directed at you. He’d watch from his bedroom window as you dodged mugs and plates being thrown at your head. There were a few times where a couple of the neighbours intervened, but you had always managed to reassure them you were fine and there was nothing to worry about.

Eddie knew differently, he watched you just as he watched his mum fight with his dad. He would replay it in his head repeatedly, seeing it all unfolding as if he were 5 again back in his mum’s trailer, helpless.

So, he started to keep an eye on you from a distance. When he would hear a fight abrupt from your trailer, he would walk into the woods ahead of you and wait for you to make your entrance. He knew he looked like a creep, but he needed to make sure you were ok. It was clear you didn’t want strangers in your business by the way you rejected any help from the other trailer park residents.

He felt a sense of protection come over him every time he heard the screaming start. The arguments were very rarely started by you, always coming from your mum and it would always be the same thing – the reason you’re here, in this trailer park and why it was your fault, not hers.

This time the argument had spilled out of the trailer, you walking out to get away but your mum following you – not wanting to stop the screaming.

“Let me leave, why do you insist on doing this over and over again!?”

“You have no idea what I’ve been through Y/N, what I’ve sacrificed”

“Why are we even here!? Go on, explain to me again why it was so important for us to up and leave everything behind to now be stuck in a fucking trailer park, in a town where your whole family fucking hates me and clearly wants nothing to do with either of us!? Go on, explain that Victoria”

“My whole family doesn’t fucking hate you Y/N”

“No, you do though”

“Your silence speaks volumes mum. How can someone hate me when they don’t even fucking know me!? Were you hoping that I would just sit in this trailer park alone while you went off and played happy families with your parents? Did you want to go back to your lunches at the country club; the fancy dinner parties? Daddy might even give you his credit card or ooooh this is good - you might even fall in love with your rich high school ex-boyfriend and remarry? Doesn’t that sound grand!”

“Jesus christ!! Why are you being such a cynical fucking bitch about all of this?? What is wrong with wanting to go back to what I used to have? What’s wrong with wanting to do something with my life?”

“How is living off your parent’s wealth, drinking all day and treating people like shit ‘doing something with your life’? What were the last 18 years then, just a place holder until you got back here? Well look how that’s turned out – they’ve shut the door on you again, the moment they laid their eyes on me. I wasn’t part of their plan for their daughter. I’m just one massive inconvenience for you all.”

“You know what, fuck it. Yes. Yes you are. Sometimes I wish I had never met your father; I had my whole life planned out for me and I just had to meet your father and fuck it all up. You’re just like him, you have no consideration for other people”.

“I’m sorry, I have no consideration for other people!? Coming from the woman who ripped the carpet out from under my feet, moved me to a town where I know NO ONE on a whim that her parents ‘might’ welcome you with open arms. I’m the one who’s not considerate?”

“Yes, Y/N. The life we had back in Australia is nothing compared to the life I could have here, I’m repairing the relationship with my parents and within a few months I’ll be living a happy life, a life of privilege, a life I deserve”.

“It may have been nothing to you, but it was everything to me”.

The first time he saw you in the woods after that fight, his heart shattered. You were there, sitting hugging your legs up against your chest and crying. This crying wrenched at his heart. You cried so much there was no audible noise, you were just bawling out an ocean of pain. It felt wrong watching this intimate moment but all he wanted to do was run and hold you, protect you from everything your mum had just said. He wished he could tell you that even though he’s only watched you from afar, he didn’t know your name; you were loved. He wanted to be your safe place.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

“I hate people like Jason Carver. And like my uncle would always say ‘I wouldn’t piss on him even if he was on fire’” trying to make a joke after the seriousness of your last statement.

“Hahaha! I get that one” laughs Gareth which in turn causes everyone to laugh with him. You felt a sense of relief run over your body.

The rest of lunch was filled with the gang explaining their latest D&D campaign and how Eddie and his band, Corroded Coffin, were going to ‘make it big’ which then led to a heated argument about why Metallica were so obviously more superior than your beloved Skyhooks.

“Well, as you can see boys” gesturing to your exquisite athletic attire “I am still in my gym gear, so I better head off and get changed before next period. It was lovely meeting you all”. As you gathered your things and the boys all started to say their farewells, you moved to get up feeling yourself bump into someone. Before you could turn around to apologise you felt a cold, thick liquid being poured over your head.

“Hey loser, I wasn’t hungry so I thought I would come and share it with you seeing as we can joke and laugh with each other now”. Jason, fuck.

It all happened so quickly. You could only gauge what was happening by the loud yells from the boys at the table. As you swung around you saw Eddie nose to nose with Jason, his fist held up in the air shaking in anger and the other holding so tightly onto Jason’s shirt you could see his feet being lifted into the air.

“Who the fuck do you think you are Jason? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t brand your face with every single fucking ring on this hand” you could see the rage in Eddie’s eyes and knew you needed to dissolve the situation.

“Eddie, Eddie!! Don’t!!” you grabbed Eddie’s fist trying lower it. “it’s not worth it, you do this, and you know you won’t be graduating”. Eddie looked at you, your hair and face covered in custard, but he also saw the concerned look you were giving him. Your eyes telling him to lower his weapon. He’s just like your mum, why are you protecting him?

As he lowered his fist and slowly started to lower Jason back to the ground, the fucking idiot continued “well looky here, the loser can tame the freak”. Jason’s buddies laughed in the background and Eddie’s grip on his shirt tightened once more.

You knew the only way you knew how to dissolve this was to be you, there was no holding back for this. Say everything you’ve ever held back from saying to your mum, I’m here.

Wiping a drop of custard off your forehead you bring it to your mouth and lick your finger. With a smile on your face “mmmm vanilla custard! Jason how did you know that was my favourite, that’s so kind of you. Eddie you can let go of him. I know it was just a clumsy accident.”

You put your hand onto Eddie’s chest and give him a reassuring smile and nod that you knew what you were doing. Eddie reluctantly released his grip on Jason. You’ve got this, I’ve got you if you waver.

Jason didn’t let off, he needed to know that he had humiliated you. “The loser protecting the freak, it physically makes me sick. You should count your lucky stars freak that someone gives two shits about you” he laughs, taking a jab at Eddie. You weren’t going to give him the reaction he so desperately craved to see from you. He wanted to humiliate you, remind you that you were a nobody.

Your face got serious and every single argument you had had with your mum flooded back. How could she still desperately want to be a part of that world again?

Eddie grabbed your hand, both because he thought you were going to punch Jason and to let you know he was here. Let him have it.

“Listen here you stupid, fucking little weasel – I didn’t tell Eddie to let go of you because I’m scared it would get him expelled, I did it because I knew that if he hit you, it would put you six feet under. But continue to test my patience and see where you’ll end up” you say giving him the biggest smile of contempt.

“I know you just want to see me run off and cry in the bathrooms right now, but I have no plan on ever giving you that satisfaction. Do you know why Jason?” you don’t let him answer the question before you continue.

“Because at the end of the day, this is all you’ll ever be” your hands pointing around the room of the cafeteria.

A crowd had started to gather.

“Someone who will have peaked in high school, and you know what happens to people who peak in high school? When they leave, they realise the world owes them no fucking favours. Jason, you leave this school and you turn into a nobody just like the rest of us” gesturing to the boys behind you.

Jason rolled his eyes ready to come back at you with another stupid insult. He thought that was all you had, but you weren’t done, not by a long shot.

“You’ve peaked in high school and the only way from here is down. Enjoy this while you can, call us every name under the sun, throw custard over our faces. Get it all out now. Because in 12 months all you will have achieved is the ability to live off daddy’s money and connections. Of course until the day comes where you take a step out of line, which I guarantee you will because they will never be satisfied with your choice; they will cut you off. All your friendships here are based on the fear of being your next target, so that means all of these fuckers laughing at every shitty joke you that comes out of that unintelligible mouth of yours will always manage to be “unavailable” when you need them most. Oh, and how could I forget, your relationship with Chrissy. This will obviously breakdown when you inevitably turn to the bottle to drown your sorrows from how desperate you’ve become, and she’ll realise how better off she is without you. So really Jason, while we’ll always be nobodies, the ones that were picked on; we’ll at least be able to sleep peacefully at night knowing we will never lead the sad, lonely life that awaits you outside Hawkins High.”

A harsh silence fell over the cafeteria, but your eyes never wavered from his.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go wipe custard out of my hair. Eddie, can you help me please”.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

It was silent the whole way to the gym locker room, he didn’t know what to say. He had just watched you destroy the king of Hawkins High’s ego in the span of 3 minutes, and he was so overwhelmed at seeing you so eloquently say what you needed to say without a waver in your voice. He had only wished your mother was there to hear it too. He was also aware of the vulnerability you must be feeling right now, and he was unsure on how to broach the subject.

As you went to open the girl’s locker room “woah, woah, woah little lady, where do you think you’re going??” Eddie says with eyebrows turned upward as if he’d forgotten your entire head was covered in custard.

“Well, as you can see Eddie” pointing towards your hair “I don’t think custard is really the latest fashion craze all the kids are aiming for”.

“No, you can’t be going in their alone, I need to sweep the area to make sure it’s safe for you” Eddie now going into spy mode, lifting his left hand into a finger gun and his right held against his ear like he’s listening to an ear piece.

Just this gesture alone from Eddie made you crack a smile. Yes, a smile.

“Well Eddie, I know the school calls you a freak, but do you really want them adding perv to it” pointing to the female sign on the wall.

“Fuck ‘em”. With that he bolts into the girl’s locker room, running around to make sure no one else was in there. You follow slowly behind sighing and shaking your head in embarrassment. You weren’t really embarrassed, if anything you were grateful more than ever to have Eddie by your side. Thank you.

Raising his hand to his ear “the premises is secure; you may now shower safely. I’m just going to lock the door, so you get a little more privacy”. He tries to give you the most reassuring smile he could, make you believe you were safe in his presence.

“Can you head over to my locker and grab my clothes out please?”

“Of course, ma lady” bowing his head.

The water falling over you felt like fire, burning away the constant disappointment you could see in your mum’s eyes for the daughter she so obviously regretted and for the life she could have had, a life like Jason’s. You wanted to go home. The feelings overwhelmed you and the flood gates opened. Your tears fell uncontrollably and loud, hoping that the sound of the shower was drowning you out.

*Knock knock* “Y/N, you alright in there?” a sheepish voice on the other side of the door.

You turn the shower off and wrap yourself in a towel. “I look like my dad” spoken through heaving sobs.

“Sorry?”

“I look like my dad, that’s why we fight.”

Eddie puts his hands and head against the door, wanting to break it down, feeling you crumbling on the other side.

“I’m a constant reminder of the life she chose over the life of privilege she could have had it she had never met him. She hates me, she doesn’t have to say it, I see it in the way her expression doesn’t change to anger when we fight. She regrets me, I’m an inconvenience more than anything to her. I’ve never felt more alone than right now”.

Trying to compose yourself, you open the door and Eddie moved back to give you more space. He gives you the same look Uncle Mick would give you when you’d run to his place after a fight. A look that conveyed that you were enough, that you were safe, here in this moment, in his presence, you were loved by someone. With that you fall to the floor, the flood gates reopening.

Eddie crashes over you. He encases your whole being, protecting you from all the people in this world that have failed you, a single tear falling from his face. “I’m here, Y/N and I’m not leaving your side”.

It felt like you had been sitting there, with your head in his chest crying for an eternity when the school bell broke through the sounds of your cries.

Lifting your heard from Eddie’s chest you wipe away your puffy eyes “I’m so sorry Eddie, you shouldn’t have to witness this and I’ve just ruined your shirt and…”

“Wait, what are you wearing!?” now realising he was wearing your shirt “what the fuck! Why is there a huge fucking rip in the front of the shirt?” you gasp grabbing the shirt from his chest.

“Well funny story there, when I went to grab your shirt from your locker, it looks like the cheerleaders may have gotten to it first” he smiles, rubbing the back of his head.

“You can just wear my Metallica shirt. I feel like I’m pulling off this ripped shirt thing better than you could anyway” he laughs handing you, his shirt.

Your hands touch as you grab for the shirt “I mean it Y/N, I’m not leaving your side, we’re in this together now”.

Rubbing his hand “thanks Eddie”.

“Anyway, who the fuck wants to live behind a white picket fence”.

After you got dressed you both roamed the now empty corridors, late for whatever class you had next, not being able to find the strength to care.

“How about we play hooky for the rest of the day? Who needs to be around these pieces of shits anyway? We could go for a drive, and you could show me exactly why you think Skyhooks would out play Metallica?” Eddie asks, looking for a way to cheer you up.

You stop in your tracks looking directly into Eddie’s soul. Even though these people were temporary to you, maybe the friendship developing between you and Eddie didn’t have to be.

“Let’s go” a small smile returning to your face.

“Fuck em”.

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