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#and he's always on about how she hurts his feelings. a gust of wind could hurt his feelings. he's constantly berating her manipulating her

lure-of-writing · 17 days

Text

Little Sister; Just Peachy

Summary: After sparring with Cassian you feel just peachy

Note: ya'll Im not going to lie the scene with Rhys in the living room got me in my feels 😭. But don't worry your little hearts we will absolutely will be seeing this from Ariel's point of view. As always I cannot wait to hear what you guys think!

(please read all in a days work , knock before you enter, and his little sister first!)

Word count: 2.9k

Warning: Mentions of having tiny frames but only in reference to being a child

Ever since your visit from the summer court something with both your brother and Azriel has been off. Rhys for the first time in your life has been avoiding you and suddenly you could never seem to catch Azriel at the right time. It was starting to annoy you to no end. “Well good morning to you too, sunshine.” Cassian looked over to where Nesta was stretching with the rest of the girls as if to ask her about your negative attitude. In return she just shrugged and welcomed you into the circle of stretches with everyone else. Today was all about fighting and since Cassian's counterpart was nowhere to be found it was up to you to help Cassian demonstrate the fighting techniques that had been practiced for a few weeks now. You were known to be a person who refrained from fighting and going into battle but that doesn’t mean that you weren’t capable of doing so. You were only one hundred years younger than your brother, it was safe to say that you had some experience with fighting.

The roof of the house of wind was quiet except for the occasional gust of wind along with Cassian's booming voice explaining how this match would go and the things then needed to pay attention to before each of them went toe to toe with either you or Cass. Finally after he was done giving instructions he turned and faced you. “You know I’m not going to go easy on you right.” scoffing your head tilts to the side “Yeah that's because your mate is over there giving you bedroom eyes and you want to impress her.” Once again his boisterous laugh filled the space of the open room giving it more warmth. Nothing more was said as you both got into fighting stances and prepared to walk away with some bruises.

The fight hadn't been going on for more than five minutes when you swore that you saw Azriel landing on the roof and watched as you and Cassian went back and forth throwing and dodging punches. Now you couldn’t say for sure because as soon as you took your eyes off your opponent to spare a glance where you thought Azriel was standing, Cassian's fist made contact with your cheek and subsequently you were laying on the matt looking into the sky completely dazed.

Cassian never meant to actually punch you. He knew exactly how you fight, he knows your tells and the next move that you would usually make but he didn’t know that you were going to turn your face at just the right moment and his powerful punch would connect with your face. Both you and Cassian knew the strength that he possessed and usually he would never fight you using that unlimited well of strength but the purpose of the match was to demonstrate how to use each part of your body to increase your strength when sparring.

Nesta was sitting on the ground right next to you with your head in her lap holding a cold hand on your sure to swell cheek and busted lip. From your point of view she was upside down. Even like this you thought she looked stunning. Gently she stroked your hair when telling you that you were going to be ok. Deep down you knew that you would in fact be ok but right now your head was ringing and your face hurt and you were pretty sure a tear was running down your face from the pain. Off to the side of you Cassain was shitting his pants. Not only had he hit the person who he views as a little sister, he hit you with his full force. He was grateful he did break any of your bones. But that wasn’t his only problem; he hit Rhysands little sister. Cassian was sure that he just signed his death certificate.

Rhysand was in his office with Azirel getting the report from his latest mission when he heard Cassian in his head. “Rhys?” The tone was a question as well as a grimace “Yes?” Rhys raised a finger to stop Azriel from continuing on. “Can you come up to the house of wind?” Sighing he looked at Azriel before rolling his eyes. “Can it wait? I'm currently in the middle of getting a report from Az.” a beat of silence passed in Rhys mind before the quiet voice of his brother came back in “It’s y/n”

Cassian could hear the beating of two sets of wings before he could see them. It didn't take a genius to know that they were flying at max speed. Cassian took a big breath and held it for a few seconds before blowing it out between thinly pressed lips. This would probably be the last time that he could breath normally for a while. Just as the two males touched down he glanced over to where his mate was still cradling your head and periodically removing her hand to look at the bruising and your split lip to see how bad it was getting.

Rhysand hadn’t even landed when his eyes locked on your body laying flat on the mat with Nesta holding your head. As soon as his feet touched the hard surface of the roof he was pouncing on Cassian with questions. “What the hell happened to her? Why is she laying on the mat with Nesta holding her face?” Cassian said nothing as he folded his high lord to where his sister lay. He knew as soon as Rhys saw your face he would be done for. Rhysand wouldn’t need any answers to his questions, he would know exactly what happened and who did it. Azriel fell in place with Cassian behind Rhys as they made their way to where you were lying and he glanced at his brother for a second with an eyebrow raised as if to ask what happened. Cassian just grimaced and shook his head. Azriel would also know what happened as soon as Nesta removed her hand from your face.

Cassian stayed back a few steps as Rhys bent down to get a closer look at you. Azriel was on the other side. “Nesta move your hand.” She didn’t do so, “Before I do you need to know that it was an accident and–” The tone of Rhysands words that came next left no room for discussion. “I said remove your hand.” The power in the high lord's voice raged over her like the waves of an ocean before a hurricane. She hated how the power made her bend to his will. Quietly she removed her hand as both males took in your face. The bruising has officially started to begin. All of your right cheek was painted with colors of red, purple and spots of dark red where the blood vessels broke. The bruising also danced along your cheekbone and around your eye, presumably from the impact, and down towards your jaw. Right where the bruising meets your lip is where it was split open and now had dried blood crusting along the open cut and down your chin.

After taking in your appearance Rhysand stood to his full high he turned around to look at the other male. “Cassian” his voice was cool and emotionless, the voice of a high lord. “Did you do this to my sister?” As much as it sounded like a question both males knew it was not. It was more like an interrogation.

As Nesta watched from afar as her mate and her brother-in-law were preparing to have at it she prodded in her sister's mind. “Feyre you need to come to the house of wind.” She paused for a moment as she listened to Cassian try to explain himself and what happened. “Now.” she added. Her attention was pulled from the fight that was sure to happen in a few moments with the jostling of your body beneath her hand. Looking down again she sees Azriel gently pull your body into his being as careful as possible as not to cause you any more pain. Nesta was sure that you were too out of it to feel more pain, as you didn’t even respond when she called out your name and your eyes were too unfocused and dazed to notice anything happening around you, still she thought the gesture was sweet.

“Where are you taking her?” Even though she wanted to go wherever Az was taking you she knew that she needed to be here when Rhys was done with her mate. To nurse him back to health. Or bring him back from the dead, whichever happened first. “She needs to be seen by Madja.” She nods her head in agreement as glances back over to her mate. She was sure the blood bath would start at any second. “I agree.” Finally after getting you into a position in Azirels arms that he deemed safe enough he shot off into the air and towards Madja’s clinic just as her sister flew in. Frantically Feyre looks at where her mate and her brother-in-law stood a few feet away brawling. “What the hell happened?” Nesta glanced down at her younger sister before returning her gaze to the fight. “Cassian accidentally punched y/n in the face and knocked her out.” Feyre felt her jaw drop all while turning to look at her older sister who just shrugged her shoulders in nonchalance.

When you woke up the first thing you noticed was the pounding headache ravaging your mind, the next thing you noticed was the excruciating pain in your face and jaw. Whatever happened to you must have been pretty bad for you to be feeling this way. Especially with fae healing. After cataloging the different types of pain and discomfort you were feeling you took in your surroundings. Plush big bed, the soothing smell of your brother's cologne, and paintings of Nyx, Feyre and your brother decorated the walls. You were in your brother's room. You must have been hurt pretty bad for you to wake up in a room that wasn’t your own. Closing your eyes again in hopes of soothing the pain inside your head you take a few deep breaths while you were at it.

Reluctantly you pushed the warm blankets off your body and made your way into the bathroom. The soft glow of faelights illuminated the bathroom and casted it into warmth. The setting sun on the horizon told you that you apparently had been out for most of the day, if not a day or two. Turning to look in the mirror you gasp at the sight in front of you. “Oh” a beat of silence “I look like shit.” gently you press a finger into the dark purple, blue and black bruise covering most of the right side of your face. You cringe back at the pain your prodding had induced. It took you a few seconds of staring at your own reflection to remember what had caused this but eventually you remembered.

You were sparring with Cassian in hand to hand combat and while the two of you were circling each other you could have swore you saw Azriel in the corner of your eye. Going to confirm it you turned your head to the right as Cassian's arm made a big and powerful swing and made contact with your face. After that you can’t remember anything. Giving it another once over you shrugged “At least he didn’t break my face.” you muttered to yourself before making your way out of the room and down to the kitchen or living room. You knew that you would only make it to one or the other before somebody was destined to stop you.

You got as far as the living room. Rhysand sat in a chair as he watched his wife and son play on the floor. The soft padding of your feet on the marble floors pulled him from his silent brooding. You watched from the entrance of the room and your brother practically shot up from his seat and in three quick strides stood in front of you. “ You're awake!” Even though you knew he meant it as a statement it felt more like a question. “Yeah?” You watched as your brother sighed in relief before gently pulling you into his arms. One arm around your back and the other stroking your hair. He made sure the unbruised part of your face rested on his chest. Returning the hug you arm your arms around the waist of your brother wrapping each hand around your forearms and your rest your complete weight against him. For a few seconds nothing was said as he gently rocked you back in front in the same spot.

Silently he pulls back to examine your face. You watch as his eyes take in the much darker welt on your face and the slowly closing fractured lip. He releases another sigh before once again pulling you back into him. “How are you feeling?” his tone in gentle and soft, knowing just how much your head probably hurts. Rhys had also been on the receiving end of Cassian's powerful strike, more times then he would like to admit. “My head feels like it's been cracked in two and my face feels like it might of been shattered but other than that I feel just peachy.” you felt the rumbling of your brother's chest before you heard the soft laughter. “I’m glad to see Cassian didn’t cause any brain damage.” Now it was your turn to laugh.

A peaceful quiet settled over the two of you and for a second you enjoyed it. Closing your eyes you listened to the steady heartbeat of your brother's heart, and for a second it reminded you of when you were a child. Any time you were scared or just in need of your brother's love you would seek him out and cling to him like your life depended on it. And without questioning he would simply wrap his arms around your tiny frame while you rested your head against his chest listening to the soothing sounds of his heartbeat until you fell asleep.

Those memories are some of the ones you hold closest to your heart and the current situation reminded you of when you were a child. Gently you knocked on the barely there shield of Rhys mind, he welcomes you in with open arms and there you show him all those precious memories this moment reminded you of. Some things are for certain and one of those things is sometimes you just need the love and comfort of your brother. Gently he squeezes your body closer into his own while still rocking you back and forth before placing part of his cheek and chin on top of your head. “Should we get you something to eat?” he all but whispers into the space above your head. Nodding your face against your chest the two of you pull away from each other after a few seconds. Rhysand keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he leads you into the kitchen. He may not be a great cook and usually avoids the kitchen like it had the plague but for his little sister he would do anything. Even if that meant potentially burning his house down.

It was a few days of living with your brother at his house before he thought you were ok enough to return back to the house of wind. That was only after Madja had even the ok that you would be good enough to survive the flight up there. You rolled your eyes behind his back as he talked with Madja. It was less than a five minute flight from his house to the top of the house of wind. If all else failed and you felt bad during the flight you would squeeze your eyes shut and pray you don’t throw up.

When you finally returned to your house you were surprised to see it empty. “Where is everyone?” you asked as your brother trailed behind you while entering the living room. “Nesta is with Feyre and Nyx shopping and Cass and Az are currently on a mission.” settling into the couch you glance over your shoulder at your very sweet but protective brother “Back to calling him Cass? That must mean you no longer feel like murdering him.” you watch as your brother makes himself comfortable on the couch across from you. “I’m still not happy with him but that doesn’t mean I hate him either.”

The room fills with silence yet again. “Why were you even sparring with him in the first place?” Furrowing your brows you look at him confused. “Uh because Azriel wasn’t there to do it? It was supposed to be the two of them but I guess something came up and no one else there has enough years of experience with the technique the Valkyries were learning so I stepped in to help.” It was now your brother's turn to furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “I didn’t give him anything to do so I don’t know why he wasn’t there.” Shrugging you look around before answering. “I mean he is a spymaster. I’m sure he has things that we don't get the privilege to know.”

Taglist: @kemillyfreitas @lana08 @willowpains @username199945 @tothestarsandwhateverend

@kylaisra @lilah-asteria @nickishadow139 @br0klynbby @blacktreacle22

@amysangel

#acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel series #rhysand x sister!reader

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natalievoncatte · 8 months

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Something, some instinct, told Lena that she wasn’t alone. She wanted to blame it on the whisky, but it was better to check. She grabbed the gun from its hiding place beneath a pillow, where she kept it in case of an intruder.

She wasn’t sure why she did that now; she was, in theory, safe from her greatest enemy. After all, Lena had murdered him in cold blood. She’d killed her own brother for a monstrous lie, and while there was little to mourn -the man he was died years ago by his own hand- it hurt. It hurt so much that the pain squeezed out of every pore, until she awoke in the depths of the night thinking the hot stains on her cheeks might have been from crying blood.

The one person she had truly trusted, respected, revered-

(desired)

-was a lie, an illusion. At least Lex had, at one point, been real.

Lena scouted her apartment. It didn’t occur her to check the balcony until she was about to go to bed. She was on the thirty-sixth floor. No one could get up here.

Kara was outside.

She hasn’t landed; she was hanging in the air with her cape lazily swirling against her legs as she hung in the nighttime breeze. She was far enough away that Lena couldn’t get a read on her.

“What do you want?”

She drifted closer, in that unnerving way she had.

“Hi.”

Lena sighed, and waved a dismissive hand.

“Go away, Supergirl. I’m not in the mood for another speech.”

Lena turned back inside, but stopped when she felt the soft gust of wind. Kara was a few feet away from the balcony now, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

She hated how things had changed when Kara told her. She no longer saw Supergirl, just Kara in a costume. It was impossible not to see her, and yet for three long years she’d done just that. Blinded herself. Refused to see the bitter truth. All she’d ever wanted was a real friend

(lover)

who respected and admired

(and loved and cherished)

her and with whom she could share those feelings, and she’d really thought Kara was it. She was the best friend

(the one)

that Andrea and Jack could never have been. She believed that so deeply.

(she doesn’t want me the way I want her)

“I’m not here to give you a speech.”

Lena looked up sharply.

“Then what? Here to stop me? Foil my evil plans? I’m a villain now, remember.”

Kara’s face turned hard. “Don’t lie to me.”

Lena barked out a bitter laugh, feeling that need rise inside her, that anger. She had lost everything. The love of her mother, the protection of her brother. No matter how wealthy she was, she could never have those back. There was no price for what Lena wanted.

“How dare you say those words to me,” Lena hissed. “You’re the biggest liar I’ve ever met. Everything you’ve ever said to me is a lie.’

“That’s not true.”

“You told me you’d always protect me. Who’ll protect me from you?”

Kara looked away, shuddering as she breathed, or silently sobbing. Lena smiled a thin smile, glad to twist the knife.

(stop it stop it stop it stop hurting her)

“Something happened to me tonight.”

“I don’t care.”

“A fifth-dimensional being came to me and offered to let me change the past. I could change whatever I wanted.”

“I don’t see any changes,” said Lena.

Kara shook her head. “His gifts were all poison. Every time I tried to fix what happened, it turned out wrong. I tried and tried and tried until I realized what was happening.”

“Which is?”

“I was supposed to learn that I can’t just push past my mistakes. I have to own them and accept the consequences. There’s no magic wand that can fix us.”

“There is no us, Kara. We weren’t meant to be.”

“How can you say that?”

Kara drifted closer, sank down so they were face to face with the balcony railing between them.

“How can you say that?”

“It’s obvious. Whatever this was, it wasn’t meant to be. We’re just too different.”

Kara shook her head.

“When I think of all the things that had to happen in order for me to be here right now, it boggles my mind,” said Kara. “Two species from two different galaxies evolved so close together. Just the chances of that happening are incredibly small, and…

“And then my people had to find this world, and Kal-El’s parents had to choose it for their son. This world, this world specifically, and then I had to get stuck in the phantom zone on my way here. All of those things and a billion others all had to happen in perfect, crystalline order just for me to walk into that office and see you.”

Lena has gone still, listening. Kara looked at her so intently, so reverently, that Lena felt something strain inside her, stretch against itself to the point of breaking. It took all her many years of carefully honed composure to keep herself still.

“Every moment I had with you was a gift. Every single one. There are times when… there are times when I think that if I could somehow have saved Krypton, I don’t know if I could, because it would mean losing you. I don’t know if that’s a choice I could make and I don’t know what that means.”

“That’s lovely,” Lena said, trying and brutally failing to keep her voice from cracking, “but it doesn’t change anything.”

Kara let out a soft, choked sound.

“I know that. I know I ruined everything and I can’t fix it. I just needed to say this because it needed to be said. I’m not here to ask you to forgive me. I’m here to ask you to forgive yourself.”

“Oh, please.”

“I can’t stop you.”

Lena blinked. “What?”

“I can’t stop you. I can’t fight you. I know that now. It doesn’t matter what you do, I won’t ever hurt you again. I don’t want to confront what that means.”

“That’s rich, considering that the last time we had one of these chats, your sister pointed an orbital fusion canon at my head.”

“If she’d fired that thing,” said Kara, “there would be no more satellite, and no more DEO. I would shatter the foundations and pull down the walls. I would rain destruction on whoever hurt you. I’ve seen what happens to me when something happens to you. I never want to see it again.”

Lena leaned on the railing. “Go away.”

“What you have planned, you need to stop. I can’t stop you, and if I can’t, no one can. Please, Lena. I’m begging you, don’t do this. Don’t become someone you’ll hate just to hurt me. I’m not worth it.”

“Not everything is about you, Supergirl.”

“Please. Don’t take away everyone’s choice. I know what that’s like.”

“Oh?”

Kara nodded, and in the moonlight, her tears sparkled on her skin. “On Krypton, we were assigned to guilds as children. We had arranged marriages. Everything about our lives was planned from birth. Here, people have so much choice. Yes, they make mistakes, but people choose life and art and love. You can’t take that away over me.”

“It’s too late,” Lena said, her voice cracking, finally. “I’m doing it and if you won’t stand in my way, it’ll be done.”

Kara took a deep breath.

“Okay. I guess I should go.”

Lena rocked back.

“What? No. I’m going through with the plan.”

“I know. I won’t fight you.”

Kara turned, about to rocket off into the sky.

“You can’t just leave!” Lena screamed, her voice ragged from liquor and tears.

Kara stopped.

“You’re supposed to fight me. You’re supposed to yell at me and tell me the truth, that you knew I was a monster all along, that you were just staying close to me to watch me, to get to Lex. You’re supposed to fight me! You’re supposed to fight me!”

“No.”

Lena let out an incoherent scream and balled her hands into fists, meaning to slam them on the balcony, but they struck the implacable flesh of Kara’s chest. Powerful arms gathered around Lena, sheltering her from the nighttime chill and the voiceless judgment of distant stars.

“I won’t ever hurt you again,” Kara murmured. “I promise. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you for what I’ve done.”

“Why?” Lena whimpered. “Why won’t you just fight back?”

“Because you’re just like me. We’ve both lost so much. We both don’t want to see anyone else die.”

Lena should have shoved her away, demanded to be set free, screamed, protested, shoved. Instead her arms wound around Kara, drawn as if by gravity, and Kara’s gentle fingers began to stroke through her hair, her warm breath on the crown of Lena’s head.

“Come back to our life, Lena. To our friends. Come home.”

“I killed my big brother.”

“I know. I failed you both. I’m Supergirl. I’m supposed to find another way, a perfect solution.”

“I had to. He’d never have let you live if he knew how I f…”

Lena caught herself as the last moment.

It was Kara who sobbed now, her entire body shuddering. So much power with so much tenderness, her vast crushing strength kept at bay as she held Lena like one of the most precious of treasures.

“In one of the timelines that Mxy showed me, you… you told me how you felt as you were dying. I saw you die so many times, I can’t do it again.”

Lena tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry.

“I didn’t get to tell you before you died. I was scared. I never thought you’d want me like I want you.”

Lena went stock still, feeling Kara’s shuddering breath against her as she held her own. She couldn’t look up, afraid that if she did, this would be a cruel nightmare and she’d jolt awake in an empty bed and a penthouse full of bitter memories.

“Kara,” Lena began, finally. “Kara, what are you saying? What do you mean?”

“It’s so hard to say,” Kara sighed, and then, almost to herself, “even if I don’t have much left to lose.”

“Say it.”

“I love you.”

Lena’s heart soared, and a harsh sob exploded out of her. She’d dreamed of those words, longed for them, needed to hear them. So many times, Lena had almost let herself believe it.

“I want this to be real,” said Lena. “I just don’t know if I can forgive you, Kara. It hurt so much.”

“Can we try?” said Kara. “Can we give it a chance? Can you give me a chance?”

Lena finally looked up, and when she saw those tear-stained blue eyes filled in equal measure with terror and hope, she knew.

“Yes,” she said, simply.

Lena looked behind her, and was suddenly full of revulsion and regret. She hated this place.

“Can you take me back to your loft?”

Kara lifted her easily into a bridal carry and into the sky.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #they’re soulmates but idiots about it #idiots in love #5x13 #It’s a Super Life #fix it #fix fic #self indulgence #angsty fluff

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mandalhoerian · 11 months

Note

Since requests are open, can you write please some Leon x gn!reader fluff free angst? Also love ur writing, you're doing amazing job ❤️

~🐸

red herring | leon kennedy x reader

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader, leon kennedy x ada wong genre: angst, no spice, hurt no comfort we die like luis word count: 2k summary: you thought ada to be the red herring, when in reality, it was you. notes: hope this is what you had in mind! i wrote this in one day so i apologize for the quality 😭

🌀 read on ao3!

The helicopter’s rotor blades are slicing the air in an ear-deafening force of noise, the wind awakened in the wake slashing at your face, but Ada, and everything about her is unaffected. You had no idea how her saunter was graceful as a feline as usual, the click of her heels rhythmic and not at all imbalanced from having to walk against the heavy current of air. Among the maelstrom of noise, her voice is clear as a bell. “Ride’s here… You coming?”

Directed at Leon, of course. You, and Ashley watching over the scene, hidden somewhere, are not a part of this. These two were in their own world.

“I think we both know this… is where—”

You cut Leon’s dramatic monologue off, fed up with everything. “You go with her.”

Leon glances at you, his piercing blue eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and concern. The chaos around you seems to fade into the background as he is unable to look away from how done with this you are.

The helicopter's roaring engine makes it difficult to hear, but you can still make out the urgency in his voice. "What the hell are you talking about?" he shouts over the noise, his tone filled with a tinge of outraged worry.

You nod, your determination unyielding. "I got Ashley. Just go with her. We’ll meet at the rendezvous point before extraction comes, I’ll do my best to handle Hunnigan until then—”

“I can’t just leave my mission—”

“You’re not leaving your mission, just making a detour. Partners, remember? Have a little faith in me.” He begins to frown even harder, about to probably tell you how this isn’t about that, but you see how Ada is waiting. She could have left already, a woman with her own goals and agenda that doesn’t have anything to do with a lone American agent, but she waits patiently. That tells you more than her contradicting talk ever can. “Whatever this is, between you and her… Don’t put a lid on it and shove it in a box until the next mission you meet her on. Solve this, Leon. Have the greeting or the closure you want. Go."

Leon looks torn, his brows furrowing deeply as he weighs his options, gloomy as ever, but there’s a certain want there, and you see deep down, he wants to seize his chance, but as always, he’s his greatest enemy. The wind whips at his hair, disheveling it further, but his gaze remains on yours. It's as if the chaos around you has momentarily frozen, leaving only the two of you in this critical moment. Ada, standing near the helicopter, looks on unreadably, her enigmatic gaze fixed upon Leon.

You step closer to him, your voice resolute despite the chaos around you. "Leon, I've got this. Trust me. You need to go with her. This is your chance to find the answers you've been seeking, to confront the unresolved feelings between you."

He opens his mouth, seemingly ready to argue, but the weight of your words settles upon him, and he hesitates. The gusts of wind whip at your hair, as if urging him to make a decision.

"Leon, we've been through so much together," you press on, your voice softening. "I've seen the way you look at her, the questions that linger in your mind. Don't let this opportunity slip away. Resolve it, whatever it may be. Leave Ashley to me. The hard part’s done already."

His features contort with conflicted emotions, his piercing blue eyes searching your face for any signs of doubt. You meet his gaze with unwavering determination, your belief in him shining through.

Behind that lie the feelings you have for him, but those, you bury. Deep, deep down. They are unneeded. Shouldn’t have existed in the first place.

With a heavy sigh, Leon finally relents, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and apprehension. "Alright, but promise me you'll be careful. We'll regroup as soon as possible."

You’re not disappointed. You’re not disappointed. You’re doing this for him. If you say it enough times, it’ll become the reality.

You nod, your determination unwavering. "I promise, Leon. Just make sure you get the answers you need."

Without another word, Leon turns towards Ada and strides purposefully towards her. The helicopter's powerful gusts buffet him, but he remains steadfast, his resolve burning bright. Ada's eyes meet his, a subtle understanding passing between them, their connection becomes palpable. It's as if time stands still for them, their shared history and unspoken emotions hanging heavily in the air. Ada's gaze softens, the shift is almost unnoticeable, and she reaches out a hand, offering him a lifeline into her world. There's a sense of bittersweetness as you witness this pivotal moment, knowing that you played a part in setting them free.

Leon pauses for a fleeting moment. He looks back, gaze finding yours once more, a silent message conveyed through.

It doesn’t reach you.

With that, Leon turns back to Ada, nodding at her. Without another word, they move together towards the helicopter, and she gracefully climbs aboard, the chopper's interior swallowing her form.

She only watches you as Leon also hops on, and suddenly, she’s yelling, “Here!” and an object is flying your way. Your reflexes help you catch it easily, and you’re looking at a plush bear chain with a key attached to it. “Better get a move on. This place will blow soon!”

You can’t even say, “It’ll what—?” before an explosion shakes the whole island, and you see Leon almost attempt to jump from the chopper ascending into the sky.

You don’t wait to watch them disappear into the sunset in melancholy. You gotta get Ashley the hell out of here.

She’s a marker. You almost miss the way Leon’s lips are a tinge redder, but the blossom on his neck is unavoidable, especially with the way he’s sprawling on the chair, head thrown back as he takes a shot from the bourbon. In the protection of the safe house, Ashley is sleeping in the next room, and you two have reunited at dead of night as Leon stealthily came back, not even one minute late.

You point at your neck, tapping it a couple times, and his attention is diverted at where you’re showing, one eyebrow rising. “You got a little something here,” you say, chest constricting in a way you don’t like.

“Ah,” he understands finally, hand covering it up almost unconsciously. “Shit.”

“Had a hell of a great time, huh?”

You don’t like the way he can’t even laugh at that. “An understatement.”

“So, how’d it go?”

Leon's eyes meet yours, his expression a mix of weariness and a hint of guilt, it turns somber as he considers your question, his gaze drifting off into the distance. He takes another sip of his bourbon, the liquid burning its way down his throat, momentarily distracting him.

"It's complicated," he finally responds, with a touch of resignation. He leans back in the chair, his body language betraying a certain, ancient exhaustion.

“When is it not, right?” You watch him closely, picking up on the conflicting emotions that flicker across his face. The lines of fatigue etched into his features tell a story of the shit he went through in Valdelobos, but he looks relatively better, Ada must have patched him up.

"We made no progress," Leon continues, his voice slightly hoarse. "Still so many unanswered questions. Ada... she's as enigmatic as ever. It's like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. I can’t let go of my anger at her, and she enjoys that."

“Ohhh,” you huff from your nose, wanting to be amusing, trying to not let it slip how the way he talks about her is so magical when you know he is a man of few words. “Hatefucking, huh? I let you go so you could talk about your emotions for once and you come back with one more to your body count. I’m regretting this already.”

Leon's weary expression morphs into a mixture of surprise and amazement at your remark, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He chuckles softly, the sound filled with a blend of weariness and genuine amusement. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his face now sporting a lopsided grin. "Subtle as always," he chuckles, the tension in the room momentarily lifting.

"I thought maybe this time things would be different," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. "That I could finally understand her, or at least have some closure. But it's never that easy with her. She's a master of keeping her intentions to herself and herself only."

You lean forward, resting your chin on your hand, studying him intently. The bourbon in his glass has been reduced to a mere sip, the amber liquid reflecting the dim light of the room. Your voice is gentle as you speak, trying to understand the complexities of his emotions.

"And how do you feel about her?" you ask, your tone soft but probing. "Beyond the anger and frustration, is there something else?"

Leon's gaze lingers on the liquid for a moment before meeting yours once again. His expression holds a mixture of longing and resignation, as if grappling with an inner battle.

"I can't deny that there's a part of me that cares for her," he confesses, just admitting having left him frustrated. "Raccoon City’s left a mark on me, and so has she. I can’t get rid of her. But at the same time, I know that pursuing anything further with her is a dangerous path. She operates in shades of gray, and I can't afford to lose myself in that darkness. I would have followed her, no questions asked six years ago, but I’m not that me anymore."

A sigh manages to escape, your voice filled with a mix of concern and teasing. "Just promise me you'll be careful, Leon. Ada's a wildcard, I don't want to see you get hurt."

A flicker of gratitude passes through his eyes, and he nods. "I appreciate your concern, but remember, I've faced worse than Ada Wong."

You smirk, a glimmer of pride shining through. "Leon Kennedy, caught in a web of mystery and seduction. Never a dull moment with you, huh?"

Leon's lips quirk into a half-smile, though the weariness still lingers in his eyes. "Never a dull moment indeed," he replies, a hint of wistfulness in his voice. "But you've always been there with me, through it all."

You give him a reassuring smile, your eyes reflecting the genuine care you have for him. "You don't have to thank me, Leon. We're partners, and that's what partners do. We watch each other's backs, no matter what."

In response, he reaches forward to cradle the back of your neck and pulls you into a singular kiss, you taste cherry lip gloss underneath the bourbon, and it reminds you the nature of your relationship with him. No name beyond the vague partners label, sharing platonic worries one second and a bed the other, and it’s comfortable. Convenient. A bond two agents who can’t commit exactly need.

Too bad you had to ruin it by falling in love.

As the kiss lingers, you can't help but feel a pang of regret. Regret for allowing yourself to harbor undeniable emotions for someone who cannot reciprocate those feelings in the same way. Regret for getting entangled in a web of emotions that threaten to unravel the delicate balance of your partnership.

But as quickly as it happened, he pulls away, a conflicted expression crossing his face. Maybe he’s comparing you to Ada — maybe he’s gone for it because he wanted to confirm something, who knows? His disappointment is palpable.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice laced with regret. "I shouldn't have done that. It's complicated enough as it is."

You try to mask the hurt that stings within you, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. You understand the boundaries, the reasons why you've kept your feelings buried deep down. But that doesn't make it any easier.

"It's okay, Leon," you manage to say, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. "You know how it is between us. Let's not make it more complicated than it already is."

With a heavy sigh, you push aside your own emotions, burying them deep within. You've always been good at compartmentalizing, at setting aside personal desires for the sake of the greater good.

(A red herring.)

We should get some rest," Leon finally murmurs, hand on his brow. "We have a long day ahead of us."

You nod in agreement, though your heart aches with unfulfilled longing. "Yeah, you're right. Rest sounds good."

“I’ll take the first watch.”

You leave him alone there, only looking back as you’re disappearing into your own room to see he’s playing with the little bear keychain Ada has left behind.

(You are the red herring in their story.)

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy imagine

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scarisd3ad · 3 months

Text

In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman

pairing - steve harrington x fem!reader

summary - "But if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us and if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once, and if I'm gonna be drunk might as well be drunk in love."

(A/N) - happy kind of late Valentine's Day lol, but here is a cute little fic based off of my favorite 1989 tv vault track.

Warnings - slut shaming, cursing, drinking

Masterlist

"Are you sure? I know you don't really like these kinds of things anymore," I say with a sigh. Steve and I are parked out in front of some random junior's house. Ever since Steve had graduated this May, he wasn't really in the party scene anymore. It might have been just because he was always busy working, or with the kids though, or maybe he wanted to leave his high school self behind. I was a year younger than Steve so I still being in high school wanted to party my senior year away before subsequently going to college next August.

I wanted him here for some type of protection from the men who frequented these parties. When I didn't have someone, I could claim as my 'boyfriend' they'd have their grimy little hands all over me. Luckily, this time I had my actual boyfriend. "it's fine," he whispers, grabbing my hand and giving it a little squeeze before removing the keys from the ignition and getting out of the car.

As we walk up to the front door, I can feel the chill in the air seeping through the thin fabric of the dress I'm wearing. The dress, which I thought would be perfect for the occasion, now seems like a poor choice, given the unforgiving October winds. I shiver uncontrollably as a strong gust of wind blows past us, sending my hair flying in all directions. The coldness of the wind is so biting that I almost regret leaving the house without a jacket.

Steve reaches out and grabs my hand as he pushes the front door open. As we approached the house, the booming sound of music and the constant buzz of voices could be heard from the outside. I could feel the beat of the music reverberating through my body as I made my way to the door. However, as soon as the door opened, the volume seemed to increase tenfold, making it difficult to hear anything else. The house was alive with energy, pulsing with the rhythm of the music and the excitement of the people inside.

The house seemed to be getting more and more crowded as we made our way further into the house. As we ventured deeper into the house, the once spacious and airy rooms gradually became cramped and stuffy. The air was thick with the scent of cheap booze, sex, and teenage sweat.

Although Steve had been gone from the hallways of Hawkins High for almost an entire semester Everyone still fawned over Steve Harrington the same way they had been for the past four years. sophomore girls, smile and wave as they send him flirty winks that are paired with a "hii Steve" which makes me roll my eyes each time, even freshman girls bat their eyelashes at him and wave shyly. god, sometimes I wished my boyfriend wasn't as popular as he was.

"Wasn't she with Eddie Munson last weekend?" I hear one girl ask as Steve and I pass by them. Luckily or unluckily, Steve stops to talk to one of his old basketball friends so I can hear the rest of their conversation. "No, no, that was the weekend before that last weekend she was with…what's his name fuck Sam…Samuel gives" The other girl, a brunette I recognized as a junior who was in p.e with me, says. The other one was a blonde that I don't particularly recognize but I knew I'd probably seen her around at least once laugh a big belly laugh before scoffing "fucking slut, didn't realize Steve was into those types of girls, especially after Nancy wheeler" it hurt but 'slut' was something most girls including me have been called more than once.

When I'm using my male friends as human shields at parties, I never thought about how other girls would think about me. It's not like I really cared anyway (I did). "Dresses like one too, who even thinks of wearing something like that" I looked down at my dress, maybe it was a little over the top, but there were other girls here dressed similarly in tiny dresses that barely covered their asses, most were shorter than mine. So why was I getting judged for my dress when Heather Blake was in the tiniest red dress I've ever seen as she was grinding up against Daren Russel?

"When I was getting dressed earlier, I thought the dress looked cute. It was smaller than what I usually wear, and I was a bit scared that I might draw more attention to myself than I'd like. But I thought, "if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us". But now, after being called a slut, I was rethinking that mindset. "Hey Stevie, I'm gonna go get a drink kay?" he nods. "Yeah hon, can you get me a beer?" I hum quietly as I nod before walking off towards the kitchen.

There are a few girls, freshmen, who are taking shot after shot. Their boyfriends must have been seniors because normally freshmen aren't invited to parties like this. "Hey, can I have some of that?" I ask. All three girls are hammered, slurring out their words and stumbling around, "Y-yeahhh girl hereeee!" one shouts over the music as she hands me a prefilled disposable shot glass. The liquid inside is clear, making me assume it's vodka. I might as well be drunk if I was going to be overthinking those girls' conversation the entire night. I lean my head back as I take the shot, letting it burn down the back of my throat.

The three girls are giggling as the middle one, who is way smaller than me in height and weight, boldy downs two shots in a row before shouting "Wooooo!!!" which makes me internally cringe for her. "Hey, can I have another?"

7 shots in and I'm drunk as a motherfucker. The three girls had since gone, mumbling a quiet excuse about how all three of their mothers were going to be pissed in. They didn't get the littlest sobered up fast. So that left me with about half a bottle of vodka.

"Hey baby, thought you were bringing me a beer" Two familiar arms wrap around my torso which makes me drunkenly smile and turn around in his arms. "I wa-wasss," I slurred as I leaned my head against his shoulder, "but got distr-distracted," I said with a giggle. Steve sighs softly as he takes my face in his hands "You're drunk honey" I roll my eyes playfully giggling a quiet "duhhh" his thumb caresses my cheek as his eyes fall behind me at the empty shot glasses and now about quarter-filled vodka bottle. "Shit, honey, how much was in that bottle? " I shrugged as I watched the two girls who had been talking about me earlier walk into the kitchen, both giggling as they looked me up and down.

I frown as I look up into his big brown eyes, which are filled with concern. "Am I a slut?" I whispered softly. Despite my best efforts to not let those girls' words get to me; they had been unknowingly eating away at me all night. "What? who…who told you that? Why the fu-" I shrug as my bottom lip pops out in a pout. "Honey, you're not a slut. And if you were, I wouldn't care because as long as you're my girl, I'll be the happiest man alive. " If I'm gonna be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.

#fanfics #x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #fem!reader #joe keery #steve harrington #female!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x female!reader #stranger things x reader #x female!reader

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shankschewtoy · 1 year

Note

Hello, sorry if I boring you..

I just would like to have a request with sanji, luffy and ace react with a s/o who doesn't fight as much as possible, because she wants to pretend to be a weak person (she doesn't it AT ALL)

one day they are about to take a violent blow and their "weak" s/o imposes herself and keeps the enemy VERY VERY far away with a simple slap

Sorry if it’s a suck request.. 🙈

a/n - ohhhhhh my goshhhh- this idea??? 💜👀nono it’s not a sucky request at all! Tysm for the request anon!

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, overpowered reader (y/n is always so cool 😭)

You don’t fight as much as possible, not because you were weak. But because of the fact that fighting and battles weren’t your favorite thing. So why not avoid it in the best way possible? Pretending you were weak. You’d become quite the actor, easily persuading the entire crew of your supposed “weakness”. You knew that the love of your life, Sanji, would do absolutely anything to keep you safe. That’s what made you feel guilty, his loyalty and love for you. While you were pretending to be weak, the chivalrous chef always had to swoop in and save you like the prince he was. It was whenever he got injured for you when you could’ve easily defended yourself when you felt the guilt deep inside your heart.

Perhaps this facade should end, it was only costing your lover and friends to risk their lives for your safety. God, you felt horrible. You weren’t weak at all! The fact that your crewmates got hurt for you, because they thought you were weak made something burn in your heart. You could easily protect yourself and your friends, so why keep this play going? It was time to end it.

The strawhat crew was in yet another close battle, one that you didn’t think you’d make it out of unscathed. Your assumptions were correct, a marine was just about to land a violent blow to your head with their rifle. It was like everything slowed in your vision. Was your mind so much faster than the world? You could hear the faint cries from Sanji, begging you to get out of the way. That’s what made you snap out of it, flicking the back of your hand into the marines face instead. The soldier flew so far away you couldn’t even see where he landed. The impact of your blow was so powerful that a small gust of wind was felt around you.

No words could describe just how shocked Sanji was to see you completely destroy the soldier like that. One little flick of your hand was all it took to send the soldier flying.. His mouth was hung agape, his eyes as wide as you’d ever seen them before. He couldn’t move, so distracted from your hidden strength. Poor cook ended up being hit in the head by a metal javelin, being slammed into the ground harshly. You immediately went over to him, kicking the javelin out of the marine’s hand, grabbing it and slamming it into the soldier’s face. The blow launched the pitiful soldier far far away, maybe if you looked hard enough, there was a little sparkle in the sky from where he flew.

Sanji didn’t think it was possible to love you even more than he did. But, you proved him wrong. There isn’t a number to describe just how much the man loved and admired you. Everything about you was so perfect, even before he knew about your true strength. The way you smile, when you lend a hand with cooking meals, even the way you talked with him! Oh gosh- he could ramble on and on for decades about just how amazing you were. (Please go along with my thoughts 💀)

You ended up carrying Sanji bridal style, blocking every attack from all angles, the epic and cinematic slo-mo shot as you saved your prince <3 Sanji had that sparkle in his eyes, looking up at you with absolute amazement and love for you. To this day, he would never admit this… But, he would like to be carried by you once more 🙏

You never really got a chance to show off your true strength, not when Luffy was around at least.. He was already bouncing off, kicking ass before you could even lift a finger. It wasn’t like he was doing it on purpose- that was just your boyfriend being himself. Even when you tried to help out, Zoro and Sanji ended up taking over too!!

They all kept stealing all your thunder >:( even Usopp manages to pull through with his ginormous one-shot cannon more than you. You’d had enough! It was time for the crew to know that you weren’t completely useless in a fight.

Luffy was reckless, that’s just how he was, but he meant well! He got himself caught in a marine base, miraculously getting caught by every single guard stationed there. It was honestly amazing to you how he always, almost always got caught. You were hiding behind a crate of rifle ammo and other supplies, waiting for the right moment to strike and save your loveable idiot.

He looked towards you and smiled excitedly right before the guards cuffed him with sea stone. You motioned to him, frantically trying to tell him to not say anything, to BE QUIET.

“Y/N!!! Hey!! You came to save me?? Thanks!”

…

You sat there for a moment. Why was he always like this..? The guards started to aim their swords and weapons at Luffy, ready to strike in a moment. You rushed forward, and just before the soldiers struck your loved, your hand blocked their attacks. The impact of the blows to your hand were completely absorbed, you didn’t move a muscle, the swords unable to cut through your skin.

The marines audibly gasped, and so did Luffy. You slapped them all in the face, sending them flying into all of the crates in the storage room. Splinters, dust, gunpowder, extra swords, clothes, food, and other items flew around the room. You caught a stick of meat and went to go give it to Luffy.

His mouth was on the floor. Literally on the floor. His eyes bulging out of his head as he stood there in astonishment. You put the chunk of meat into his mouth and closed it for him, patting his head softly. He didn’t even start chewing until you started moving his jaw to chew for him.

“Luffy… You ok?”

“MHFM! HOUCH GOME YOUF HAND WAF BIKE SHEBSIBDFSJSHBDIENDJCH?!” (Y/n! How did you do that?! You slapped him and he went BOOOOOOM- THAT WAS SO COOL!)

The rubber boy was shouting with a huge chunk of meat in his mouth, so you didn’t really get anything he said.. You had to grab him and sling him over your shoulder as you both escaped narrowly. He was still yelling at you in gibberish, and you couldn’t really tell if he was amazed or extremely angry-?

a/n - Sanji needs to be carried bridal style pls

#one piece #one piece x reader #luffy one piece #luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy x y/n #luffy op #monkey d. luffy #sanji x reader #sanji op #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x you #sanji one piece

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mikashisus · 24 days

Text

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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murdrdocs · 1 year

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reader and shy!ethan are bestfriends and ethan finally confesses his feelings?

he's stressing over how to make it perfect. one day he's trying to watch a youtube video on a concept he's been trying to grasp for days, and he sees one of those extra gum commercials where they draw something cute in the gum wrappers and the two people are so infatuated with each other. and of course, he gives it a shot but his drawing is horrendous and you're always the one who carries gum so that plan is a double no.

then he thinks about where he should do it. he asks if you wanna come over to watch a new movie or show, only to find out that you'd already watched it (somehow) and he's not only left feeling defeated, but also a little betrayed.

and this shouldn't be as strenuous as it is, but ethan has high expectations and he's a little bit of a perfectionist so he refuses to rest until he's devised the perfect plan.

but it all works out for him anyway.

you're both walking back home after a night out with the others, you two deciding to turn in earlier than the rest due to how exhausted you both were. you both have the taste of milkshakes on your lips and ethan's noticed that you've started to curl in on yourself more and more with the gusts of wind that continue to push against your body.

"here," he says, slipping his sweatshirt over his head easily and passing it to you. you don't protest, instantly pulling it over your small top. "should've dressed for the weather," ethan teases, a small smile on his lips as he anticipates your fist to his shoulder. and sure enough, he's feigning hurt as he holds onto the spot that you barely even impacted.

you both reach his apartment first and you're gasping as he approaches the steps. before ethan even has time to question you, you're explaining. "wanna have a sleepover and watch she's the man?"

and how could ethan say no?

that's how you're wearing nothing but ethan's sweatshirt and tucked in his bed with his laptop being the only thing separating you both. he's so aware of how your bare legs are just a few inches from him and how sweet you smell and how you keep quoting the movie because that's how often you both have seen it.

and it's technically a rom-com and they've always had an effect on ethan and suddenly he's turning to face you and he's noticing how pretty you look with the light reflecting off of your face and the words are out of his mouth before he realizes.

"i like you. like ... a lot."

turns out, ethan didn't need a gum wrapper or a perfect setting (although, channing tatum is a perfect setting) because you're smiling so big and looking away from amanda bynes being welcomed at the diner table with the guys to tell him that you like him too, "like a lot".

#so cute #love me some fluff #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry fluff #ethansworld!#celeste writes scream #ethan landry x you #ethan landry #scream 6 fluff #scream 6

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arteastica · 5 months

Text

Early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (19)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 2.7k

It was the kind of morning that encouraged the wearing of many layers. The thicker the better. And Sasha, who looked busy feeding soaked hay to the horses of a nearby stable, seemed to have reached that same conclusion before leaving her room that morning. You observed her as she struggled to drain the wet grass without dipping her fingers into the water, and realized you didn’t remember what she looked like under her scarf and wool hat.

Was this winter ever going to end?

The calendar gave a rather optimistic answer, but the weather seemed to be so very in love with the snow, and it didn’t look like it was letting go of its lover anytime soon.

You rubbed your gloved hands against each other and noticed how this was the first time you actually felt cold this season, even though the harshest days were already long behind. But back then, when low temperatures would make everyone complain, and the biting wind would paint their ears and fingers all shades of red, you could rely on your memories and the pleasant fire they lit within. And back then, you also had his body heat to keep you warm.

You glanced at the man standing beside you, his attention completely lost somewhere in the woods before him, and his hand, idly hanging to his side, looked especially inviting under this weather. And you wished you could reach out and take it, but you weren’t sure he would let you hold it.

His breath, turning into white mist as soon as it left his body, was clearly visible against the somber, almost starless twilight sky. His eyes were also a dark shade of blue this morning, and they seemed just as gelid as the sudden gust of wind that caused you to wrap your arms around yourself, rubbing your shoulders as you tried to shrink your body to a size that would be too tiny for the cold to spot.

“You can wait inside if you-”

“I’m fine.” You rushed to say, before realizing the hastiness in your voice risked coming across a little discourteous, and he was your boss after all. “It will start warming up once the sun rises a little more.” You explained, this time trying to soften your voice with a smile, a smile that you hoped didn’t look as unnatural and stiff as it felt on your own lips.

Yes, you had no doubt that the weather would warm up soon, because like a promise kept, the sun would always rise in the morning. And, as you thought about such kind of tacit, unspoken promises, you glanced up: The sky didn’t promise snow today. Maybe it would warm up a little after all.

But, was it really a promise or just your own foolish assumptions? In your case, there was always a bigger chance that it was the latter, and, therefore, throughout the years you had learned to not let yourself get too hopeful about things. That way, when it did snow later and you found your feet stuck under six inches of snow, buried so deep that you couldn’t move backwards and neither forwards, the disappointment wouldn’t hurt as much.

You could tell his eyes were on you, but you didn’t feel like looking back. Instead, you tried to find if there was even a single star still visible in the sky.

It had been almost a full week since he went back to work, and make no mistake, you were happy he did. You were glad to see him instead of the sad empty chair your eyes had been constantly met with for the past six weeks or so. However, it had also been a week since you moved back to your room. A full week since you last heard the raspy good mornings and lulling good nights he would whisper against your ear. A full week since you last engaged in any form of conversation that didn’t have the words ‘maintenance budget cuts’ or ‘decreasing staffing levels’ in them. A full week since you last saw him smile. At least at your way.

And most importantly, it had been a full week since you last felt the reassuring warmth of his lips against yours, and the sweet comfort of his arm around your body. A full week since you told him some very big words. And a full week since he didn’t say them back.

But, could you blame him for that? Not really, and you weren’t mad at him. Because, now that you had a lot of time to spend in the loneliness of your dark room, you started to consider the possibility that maybe he had his boundaries; and that maybe, just maybe, you had been overstepping them lately. Or who knows since when, to be honest.

There was something, however, that you knew very well.

You knew that the life of the Survey Corps’ Commander was already difficult enough as it was, and that he didn’t need any of his subordinates to make things more uncomfortable for him, whether that was with their irrational requests or the unsolicited confessions that left their mouth when they were in bed together. And, all things considered, you figured he could go back to sleeping alone. Not to mention he must be craving some personal space as well. After all, you had practically glued yourself to his side for a month.

As you let your mind travel to warmer moments lived during that month, you realized the silence was making you a little bit too nostalgic, so you welcomed the sound the leaves made as they drifted wherever the wind blew. As well as the distant clatter of hooves.

“They’re here.” He said, and you looked up to find the convoy in the distance. Within a few moments, the shapes grew in size, until they reached the entrance of the castle.

The enclosed carriage that was leading the caravan waited in front as two soldiers opened the gates. It was big and rather opulent, and the glossy finish on the wood told you that it had been polished very recently, and with such dedication that now it resembled a mirror. A mirror that, with its gilded features and painted panels, successfully reflected the personal taste of the owner, whose face remained anonymous thanks to the satin curtains covering the windows.

But the carriage wasn’t the only notable thing in the caravan. The four horses pulling it, as well as the two dozens waiting behind, were splendid enough to overshadow the sumptuous vehicle.

The commander walked to the entrance of the stables, and you followed behind, your eyes still captured by the mesmerizing creatures. When the carriage parked nearby and its doors opened, the identity of the owner was finally revealed: a middle-aged man of imposing height and cinnamon hair who looked surprisingly familiar, and that, judging by his elegant demeanor and conspicuous wardrobe choices, could be nothing other than the lord of some faraway estate.

He hugged the Commander as if they were the oldest of friends, and, as they laughed about some inside joke you were certain you wouldn’t get, you found yourself wishing things were as merry and jolly between you and him as it was between the two of them. But then again, you were pretty sure this old man had never said he was in love with him.

Although, to be fair, it was not like he was avoiding you. In fact, to an outsider it may even look like you were the one doing it. After all, you were the one who decided to move back to your room, and you were the one who was actively trying to keep your eyes glued to your desk instead of looking his way. You were also the one who decided to start leaving immediately after your shift ended.

A stranger reading your latest journal entries would be forgiven for thinking you were the one putting distance between you two, but you were convinced that anyone in your position would understand that it was not something you had chosen deliberately. You were merely reacting.

Reacting to what you felt and perceived: a switch in the atmosphere, a change in his eyes, the feeling of not being welcome anymore. You could see it there, in the icy blue of his irises, and that’s why you tried not to look at them. It made your throat tight and your vision blurry. So you decided it was best to look at the horses instead.

They were truly some of the most magnificent stallions you had ever seen. So bright and alert. The glow in their coat told you that all their nutritional requirements were met, and the bounce of their mane, that they were frequently groomed. You had once heard that even just one of these horses was worth an average person’s lifetime income. And you could see why.

But after some minutes of contemplation, wonder turned into gloom, as you found yourself feeling sorry for them. There was no way these innocent creatures knew about the dangers that awaited them. It was truly such a shame that such gorgeous animals had been born in a world like yours. They deserved to enjoy their days eating fresh grass and running up and down a green hill, somewhere in the middle of a picturesque countryside, and not to spend their lives outrunning titans.

But you tried to cheer yourself up by thinking that they would get to live good lives for as long as they could cling to them. After all, the scouts treated their animals with the utmost care and respect, almost as if they considered their horses to be comrades too.

To your right, you heard the Commander animatedly talking with the wealthy stranger. But your eyes were still lost among the horses, absentmindedly watching their mane dance in the wind. The sound it made when blowing through the trees, delicately rustling their leaves as if telling them it was time to wake up, was something you had always found relaxing. And you realized that, despite the uncomfortable cold, it was such a beautiful day in the forest. If only you could enjoy it.

You wished you owned the carefree disposition of that tall man who had just dismounted his horse and now seemed to be thanking it for the ride. He looked so content and joyful, utterly delighted with the simple act of ruffling its mane, and so did the animal. It looked as if the man was fluent in whatever language it is that horses speak. He looked a lot like a horse whisperer. He looked a lot like-

“Leon?” You heard your own voice calling seconds before the man turned around and smiled, confirming that was indeed his name.

“My lady.” As he made his way to you, his hazel locks danced to the exact same tune his horse’s mane did behind him. His hair had gotten longer, but his smile was as warm and welcoming as you remembered it.

“How come you’re here?” You asked, surprised to find this was the first time in days your smile felt like it belonged on your face.

“I’m accompanying my lord uncle.” He paused as he kissed the back of your hand. “This gentleman right here.” You looked at the man he was pointing at, the one standing next to him, and also the same tall stranger the Commander had been animatedly conversing with.

So this was Lord Koch. His face did look a little familiar after all.

“Commander Smith.” Leon gently let go of your hand before sending an acknowledging nod to the Commander, and extending his hand.

“Lord Angert.” The Commander shook the hand Leon was offering and smiled politely. “Thank you for traveling so far, my Lord. I hope the winter woods weren’t too rough.”

“As someone who was raised out in the cold, my esteemed Commander, I found the weather rather nostalgic.” As the two men shared a chuckle, you couldn’t help but join in, amused by Leon’s interesting way of speaking.

“We had to make a couple of small detours, as we weren’t sure if it was safe to travel anywhere near Ragako or Dauper.” Lord Koch explained. “That added at least half a day to our schedule. We should have been here by yesterday night, so I apologize, Erwin. I think Leon here was the only one who appreciated the change of plans.” He grinned at his nephew, and you noticed that Lord Koch’s eyes also had the tendency to turn into crescent moons when he smiled. “He really wanted to get a present for the beautiful lady here.” You blinked a few times to shake the confusion away when you suddenly felt all three men’s eyes on you.

Leon slipped a hand inside his jacket before handing you a tin box that was all too familiar to you. It did look like you were starting a collection after all, you had three of these now.

And for the first time in this bitter morning, you felt warm, the pleasant feeling immediately taking over your lips. You could really use the sugar today. The sugar, as well as the comfort only your favorite childhood treat could provide.

“Leon, you didn’t have to.” Your fingers reached for the present, unable to keep your lips from curving when you had the small box in your hands. You expected the metal to be cold, but it was actually comfortable to the touch, and rather warm from the cozy pocket he had kept it in all this time.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I figured since I was coming here anyway, I could at least bring you a piece of home.” He explained, using his hand to brush aside the importance of his kind gesture. “Although, I must admit the idea only found me after we were more than halfway through our journey here. But Luckily they had these in one of the villages we stopped by.”

You stared into the forest he had for eyes and wondered if you could find a friend there. Because you felt like you could really use one right now.

“Erwin, these were selectively bred to be approximately five feet tall and nine hundred pounds give or take.” You turned your attention to Lord Koch, who was pointing at the group of horses that was now being taken into the stables. “They may seem heavy but you don’t need to worry about maintenance out there in the field, they can get by perfectly fine on a simple diet, and travel many hours without complaining.” You eyed the horses, they certainly looked way more muscular than your average horse. “And their weight doesn’t affect their performance either. Their top speed is between forty to fifty miles per hour. Pretty impressive, right? We trained them to maintain a swift twenty two miles gallop, even when pulling a carriage. Like I said, a fine speed all the way through. But I don’t pretend you believe just my words. I actually would like to show you right now if you’re up for it. What do you say?”

The sound of the wind waking the leaves from their slumber was the only thing Lord Koch got for a reply. You turned to look at the Commander at the same time Leon did, and were surprised to find him staring back at you. An unreadable look in his icy blue eyes.

“Erwin?” Lord Koch called again and this time he seemed to have more luck in getting a reply.

“Yes, yes, we should.” The Commander said, eyes still fixed on you.

“I’ll get them ready, Uncle.”

“No, son, you can stay. Erwin and I are only going for a quick ride.” Lord Koch smiled to his nephew before turning to the Commander. “Let’s go, Erwin. Let’s leave these two to each other. I bet they have a lot to talk about.”

The Commander threw one last glance your way, a closed-mouth smile on his face, before turning around and following Lord Koch.

next chapter

taglist: @elnyrae @mchlist @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis @goddessinsweats @nube55 @jeanboyjean @crazychaoticizzy @braunsbabe @erwinawesomeness @apts2000 @lucifers-nipple-piercing

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 7 months

Note

Do you do requests? If not u can ignore this. Do u know how people say that a hero would save the world over u, when a villain would save u? That w Hiccup. Like Hiccup having to choose between saving y/n or others and he doesn’t choose y/n and then believes she’s dead. That would be the final straw for her and she would eventually start a relationship w the dragon hunters.

Can u tell I love angst😭

Castoff

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Villain!Reader

Words: 2328

The gentle brush of fingertips as they slip apart, the pounding of blood as his heart falls out of your grasp. Those are feelings you are familiar with. Your relationship is one made up of meanings searched for where they are not, a deep care uprooted by a raging current and a single, meaningful mistake.

Tags: Angst, fem!reader, heartbreak, villain reader, unresolved insecurity, anger, canon divergent, first part?, suggestive content, RTTE, Httyd 2, 'Always the Angel, Never the God' adjacent

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He knew before she did. You knew just as long as him. It wasn’t the kind of thing you or anyone else talked about, really, not to anyone but your parents and your true meant-to-be. But it was there. And you knew for the longest time that they were meant for eachother.

You didn’t know that it would have ever ended. Yet somehow, supposedly, it did. You still felt like an outlier, though. Your heart was his for so long that to see them together felt like a betrayal, and to be with him now felt like a betrayal of that.

You saw the look in his eyes, you watched them treat each other so familiarly, watched the others close in around them, perhaps looking to share in the joyful atmosphere, knowing that should you step into the light, the moment would be ruined.

You stepped away from the half open door, back into the darkness of the cabin, wondering how they could be so happy together even after the raid, a skirmish so tough and violent with some new dragon hunters from outside the area, unlike any of the ones you’d dealt with before.

There was true love, romantic love and meant-to-be love.

Brown armor, red shirt, green eyes. Hands held gently, preciously out for your own.

For the longest time, you didn’t have a love, true or meant-to-be. Well, you had a love that was certain to be true, but wrong in that it was made for someone who’d already given his heart to another. A heart that he’d, supposedly, taken back.

Now, you wondered what sort of love he held for you.

You made to reach out, but instead you turned away, missing the look of hurt you knew you would be there. You couldn’t, not with any of the others around.

You didn’t miss the hushed conversation, carried on just the same as it was earlier but in lower tones, the small looks shared between them, the unsaid idea that maybe you just weren’t right. That you were a bad pair.

You knew what would greet you if you looked back; the hurt in his eyes, the loose brows, the slight disappointed tilt of his lips.

You furrowed your brows. You let him down again.

But it didn’t feel right, to love and share love, especially with her so closely there. With the ghost of them ever so present. It filled you with shame.

There was no bitterness held, only guilt born from many nights spent awake condemning yourself for your yearning. It was something you’d long since accepted was meant only for the dark of night, when no one else was awake enough to hear your heart flutter.

You still felt as if he was hers, that you were encroaching on something you weren’t supposed to have. It was a messy situation. They ended amicably, you’d been feeling terribly for a long, long time. You wondered if the feeling, the bone-deep hate for yourself, would ever go away, like you’d dreamed.

You had to stop and wonder when Hiccup the Useless became Hiccup and Useless.

You buried your head into your knees, tired of staring out over the windy clifftop. No number of waves or gusts of wind could brush away your troubles.

You didn’t even miss Berk. You didn’t have a reason to go, nor one to stay. Just a floater, tethered only just so by the tattered, frayed strings of your own heart.

He was sitting next to you, a silent question on his lips, left unsaid but just as clearly heard.

You couldn’t forget how lonely you were, then and before, after he left you. A friend, somehow still physically so close and yet so far out of your reach. How quickly you were othered, how quickly you were labeled a pitiful tag-on. No amount of love, hidden nor shared, could ever make up for that.

Something tense was in the air between the two of you. You refused to give it a name, though you knew what it was just as well. It felt like the end. It felt like a new, terrible beginning. It felt like the heaviness in your gut and the slight burning of your eyes caused by the thin spray.

Your touching fingertips became more as you clutched his hand, squeezing it.

You’d always been the confidant. To have the position switched was odd, unfamiliar. Hiccup was gawky and unsure in your boots. To have your troubles laid out between the two of you, of which there were many, disturbed you. The idea felt like a violation.

So, without the words to speak them, you worked around. You found words you could speak, parts of some that were difficult and some that weren’t and strung them together like the split stems of flowers into a very nearly presentable crown.

You turned to your right, looked at him pleadingly, though you weren’t sure what you were pleading for. Nothing, everything at once, not to leave you behind, not to make you stay.

“Hiccup,” You stared hoarsely, hesitantly. It was silly, it was stupid saying it aloud. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. He never would.

Truly, you had only one question.

“Do you love me?” You asked. He looked confused, startled.

You leaned closer. You couldn’t tell which way he moved, if he moved at all. You imagined he moved away. He waited.

He looked at you expectantly. Unsurely. Why weren’t you moving closer?

You’d never loved or been loved in any sort of way which mattered. The fact that you hadn’t felt like a burden, somehow just another reason as to why you weren’t deserving. An onerous boon that you just wanted to be rid of.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know if you could.

He knew what was supposed to happen next. He’d experienced it; done it and had it done many times over. You hadn’t.

You two hadn’t been that close yet, not at all, not physically. This was not a boundary the two of you had yet crossed. You shared nothing more than a few mumbled words into the neck, a few shared words in your nook, a tight embrace and hands held loosely in the quiet darkness of the night. Promises, dedications. No actions.

The others knew about it, though. They heard the declaration, quiet and uttered as if it was just a casual thing. For him it was. You said nothing.

How could you?

You hesitated, waiting for an answer. Your lips twitched. Your eyes burned, stronger then. You shook your head and dropped his hand, which he let fall to the wayside. Using your hands and the floor, you pushed away.

As always, you couldn’t bear it. He waited for you, just as you didn’t want to be someone to wait for. You wanted to already have it. You wanted back the years you spent wasting away, coveted back the years you spent watching him give what you desperately needed so casually to another.

You stood, then.

It was a surprise when the two of you came together. No one had expected it. It seemed off, out of place. You weren’t sure Hiccup himself had, drifting in the spaces left between after he and her had split paths.

You turned. You held your elbows and hunched your shoulders, turning your back to him and pushing against the wind, which though was light, felt all of the sudden as if it was way too much.

You weren’t sure he meant it. Whether or not this was real or something he’d just fallen into as per convenience.

You did. You meant it. He was your true, he was your romantic.

What kind of love do you hold for me?

You knew the answer, plain and simple.

None. None at all.

You stood in the darkness of your cabin. Your windows were blocked, though you didn’t need the light. You’d been in for a while, you were used to it.

You’d exhausted your usual time-taking avenues, left with nothing but maintenance; folding, organizing, sorting.

It was awkward. Since the clifftop, the two of you were distant. You didn’t avoid each other, but you also didn’t speak. It was a miracle that nothing had happened yet to force the two of you together.

You were beginning to believe that was the end of your relationship. You were having a hard time accepting it, though the feeling was creeping into your heart slowly and you were beginning to feel empty.

You didn’t flinch as the door to your cabin opened, creaking, though you winced as you turned back towards the light, started as he came up, pressing you against the wall.

Your lips met.

It was not rough, more just so. It unbalanced you all the same.

He was unsure, nervous. Clumsy. But it was strong. But it was meaningful. But you could tell he meant it.

You molded into his shape just as he molded into yours. Hesitantly, unsurely, you responded. He was gentle enough to guide you.

Once again, you asked, though not so much in words as actions; Do you love me?

And this time, he responded. Your heart bloomed. Not violently, not roughly, just so, enough for a shining pink petal to crest the green sepal.

Yes. Yes, I do love you.

You were light, you were fervent, you were free. You believed him.

The same hunters from before. The lot of you had gotten captured. You were too distressed to remember if it had been your fault. There were rocks sharpened to a point below you, gray skies and windy, stormy seas rushing tumultuously below.

You were far from the Edge. In unfamiliar territory. Any allies unaware and absent. The dragons, trapped in cages long behind you.

Hunters were sailing away behind you. It was a victory, however it was also one that came with a terrible price. Something had been set off, violently at that, throwing you off the edge of the cliff face, destabilizing the cage held by a chain pinned to the rock above by a thin steel nail.

“Hiccup,” You pleaded, breathlessly as your body struggled to keep up with your weight, with the rope and chains tied around your ankle, “H-elp.”

I need you.

“Just- hold on, the others-” He crouched, glancing frantically between you and the others handing caged off the side. Their chains were thin, yours were thicker though both were just as equally dangerous.

Please, I need you now.

You jerked back as another rope snapped. Unheard by his ears, drowned out by the raucous waves below and by the rattling of empty cages, pushed around in the air. Unseen as his eyes trained on the others.

Hiccup didn’t see, eyes trained elsewhere. There was no time to waste. After all, if he helped you up, in the time that took, they might fall. They would fall.

“Hiccup!” Astrid shouted. Snotlout shouted. You remembered how they looked before you’re been knocked off. Fishlegs panicking, mumbling to himself zealously, distress projected clearly for all to see. Ruffnut and Tuffnut yelled mindlessly into the air, a waning battlecry as the island deteriorated around you

Somehow, in between terror, in between the pain of your ankle as it threatened to snap and the taut muscle of your arms, a grim doom began to worm and thrash and coil in your gut.

“I’m not- I’m not going to make it,” You said desperately, voice crackling, face crunching as tears began to spill over the edge, shoulders straining, holding on just barely.

“Please, there’s-Just, cut me loose-” You prayed, to whichever god was out there, he still had his knife. That he had something sharp. You were going to die.

You could tell he was stressed, overwhelmed, just as panicked. He shifted restlessly, stiffly, perhaps a million times in the last minute. Noise built up in his throat as he spoke but you were unable to hear clearly as your ears filled with buzzing. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t hear your own voice, too breathless and strained to make a sound.

You watched his eyes flicker, you saw the soot on his face and each strand of his hair as it waved in great detail, your world slowing down to a halt.

He stopped. You caught his eyes briefly, you saw as an idea formed, as his resolve hardened, and as he made his choice. You knew it would not be one he made for you.

“Hold on!” Hiccup shouted, as the other’s cries grew more intense, ears deaf to your pleas. He pushed away towards the other side of the cliff, running towards the others as their cage dipped once again.

There was a sharp pain in your chest, as if the nails you dug in with so despairingly were instead gripping your lungs, sharp and unforgiving.

Do you love me?

You were going to die.

You blinked away tears and snot and all the little, tiny shards of your heart that had gotten stuck in your eyes on their way out.

You just had to hold on. You just had to hold on until Hiccup got back.

You shouted something wild, something animal as your fingers gave, numb with cold and sliding loose even as you commanded them to grip tight. You had no way to fight, no thing in which to fight with as your hold weakened on the slippery rock.

Your nails hurt as they worked against rock and loose dirt, fragile roots and falling stones. Your fingers pained as they worked furiously against themselves.

Hiccup left you. He wasn’t going to come back. You were going to die before he came back.

It was like a stake had been shoved into your gut.

Hiccup left you.

You were going to die.

Your vision whited out.

You were going to die.

You couldn't hold on any longer.

You fell.

#bam pow i do do requests #winner prompt #angst central #angst #how to train your dragon #httyd #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #fem reader #female reader #angst with unhappy ending

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kteezy997 · 6 months

Text

The Other Man- Part Eight// t.c.

I am so very sorry for the delay!

Warnings: cursing, kissing, brief smut, maybe some angst?

“Amelia?” Timmy couldn’t believe it. “What are you doing here?”

The model looked at him and at you with a perplexed expression. “I came to surprise you. And you always stay in the same room when you’re at this hotel. Are you…fucking her? Isn’t she married?!”

“Amelia, it’s none of your business what I do, or who I do it with. You and I are not together!” Timmy started out speaking calmly but remained extra firm in the last sentence.

“On paper, we are! So you don’t think I have a right to know who you’re screwing behind my back?!” Amelia yelled at him and began to cry.

“Okay, okay. This is crazy, Amelia, I never made any promises to you. We have a contract, but that’s it. I care for you as a friend, I do, but-"

“Timothée, I love you! I would do anything for you to love me back.” The poor girl was full on sobbing now.

You felt wildly uncomfortable. You wanted to shut the door in Amelia’s pretty, crying face and forget about all of this. But that couldn’t happen.

Timmy took a breath, picked up a shirt to throw on, and walked over to you, “Just let me talk to her, only for a minute.” he squeezed your hand, “Stay here, baby, please.” he pleaded with his eyes as well as his words.

You didn’t like the idea of him leaving you to go off with some other woman. But perhaps it was good on his behalf to try and let her down easy. You were confident in your relationship and in Timmy’s feelings for you, so you weren’t worried that he’d choose her over you or anything like that. He had informed you that he'd didn't like her that way, and he had just said it to Amelia herself.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. At the least, you could put some clothes on.

You put on some pajamas and waited for him to come back. The pizza was delivered, but you set it on the counter, and it remained untouched. There was no way you could eat; you were growing more anxious as the time drew on. Amelia must have been really upset by his rejection if it was taking so long to get her calmed down.

It was a half hour before Timmy came back to your room. It was only a matter of seconds when you realized he was not himself. Whatever happened, whatever it was that was said between him and Amelia had an impact on him. He looked so downtrodden.

“Timmy, are you okay?”

He inhaled sharply, shaking his head, he said, "She's pregnant. And it's mine."

Your heart sank. His news hit you like a stiff gust of wind. You felt like your world was crashing down around you, and you had no power to stop it.

You were really at a loss for words. "Oh, shit."

"Yeah, that's what I said too." Timmy responded, "Apparently she's known for weeks but she's just now telling me."

"And you believe her?"

"She showed me the ultrasound."

"But how can you be sure it's yours?"

"She said she's three months along, and that's the last time I had sex with her." he ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. He seemed so exhausted and mind boggled. He looked at you, "I'm so sorry, y/n. I never thought in a million years this would happen. She told me that she was on the pill. She said there was no way she could get pregnant." He walked over to sit down on the couch.

You honestly felt so sorry for him. This was the man you loved. The possibility of him having a baby with someone else wasn't going to make your feelings go away. If he was hurting, you were hurting too.

Now you were growing suspicious of Amelia. Was she so deeply infatuated with him that she would deceive him into impregnating her, just to keep him for herself?

"Do you think she got pregnant on purpose?" you asked him, sitting next to him.

"That's the fucked up part: I think she did. She didn't come out and admit that," he put his chin on his balled up fists, "but she did say that if I don't stay with her and claim her and the kid, she'll tell the media that I made promises to her and now I'm abandoning her and our child. She'll try to ruin my career."

"What a fucking bitch." you said, you were fuming mad at this realization. You had it in your right mind to find Amelia and beat the hell out of her. But if she was really pregnant, that would be a no go.

He scoffed, "Yeah. What the fuck am I gonna do? Why is this happening?" he put his hands over his face and crashed backwards into the couch.

It was killing you to see him so distressed. You just hated the situation, and wanted it to go away, even if not permanently. You put your hand on his head, and softly started to pet his hair. “Is there anything I can do for you?"

Timmy put his hands down and he sighed, "I don’t know. Do you still love me?" he asked, looking in your eyes.

You laughed, "Of course I do. You haven't done anything wrong, so why would I stop loving you?”

He sat up, leaned in and kissed you. "I just don't want to lose you." He then rested his forehead on yours.

You put your hands on his upper arms, lovingly rubbing them. "You won't lose me. I'm here for you, Timothee, just like you've been here for me. I love you." You pulled him into a hug. You wanted him to feel comforted more than anything. You would be his security blanket.

He nuzzled his face into your neck, "I love you too, baby." he said against your skin. After a moment, he looked at you, kissed your lips, and climbed on top of you. "Let me love you." he cooed.

You welcomed the warm pressure of his body on yours, you held him close as he kissed you tenderly. He pushed your pj shorts to the side, slid down the front of his pants, and nudged his cock into you. He bucked into you softly. This was the sweetest, most intimate sex you'd ever had. Despite everything, you loved and had eachother.

The next morning, Timmy told you that he was going to sort things out with Amelia. He was sad to leave you, of course, but told you to enjoy your last day of the little vacation. You knew that he was scared and concerned for the future. Your heart ached for him, but you knew that things would work out. You would make the best out of things, together.

You decided to stay in for the day and just relax as you mentally prepared yourself for getting back into work mode tomorrow.

Then you got a text from Billy.

"Hey, how are you?" it read.

"I'm fine, Billy. What do you want?"

"Well I was just wondering if maybe we could try to patch things up."

"No. I don't think so." You were more than moved on from your marriage to Billy. You surprised to even be hearing from him.

"Please? We could grab coffee and talk about things. I can change."

"People like you don't change. You only get worse. I don't want to talk to you. I just want a divorce. Please respect that. Goodbye, Billy."

You hoped that would be the end of it. That he would accept what you had to say, and move on. But that was not the case. Soon after the text conversation, Billy called you.

"What do you want?" you answered, angry and annoyed that he wouldn't leave you alone. "We're done, Billy. There's no going back for me."

"And why is that, huh?" his voice was smug on the other end of the phone. "I saw some pictures of you online."

Your heart started to pound in your chest. "Wha-what do you mean?"

"Actor and hearthrob Timothée Chalamet spotted with mystery woman as he leaves the set of his new commercial." It sounded like Billy was reading from a headline or something.

You took it upon yourself to Google: Timothée Chalamet You were speechless. You had no idea that the paparazzi caught you and Timmy together. But there they were: the photos that Billy was referring to.

"That's right, y/n. You were out galvanting with your boyfriend. He was supposedly my friend. Some friend to be hanging out with my wife after she kicks me out! Let me ask you again, y/n, were you fucking him while you were married to me?" Billy was clearly angry, and rightfully so as he had technically been cheated on. And you were sorry for that. It was wrong to sleep with someone else outside of your marriage.

But you weren't concerned about Billy at all. He was never good to you. He was a terrible husband and person. You were worried about Timmy. These photos were just another thing piled onto his plate that he'd have to deal with.

"Billy, it really doesn't matter at this point. But Timmy and I are together now. Please, just stay out of my business." With that, you hung up the phone.

You were certain that if Amelia was going to lie to the press about Timmy abandoning her and her baby, she'd definitely use the pictures of the two of you together against him also.

.......

The next day, the weather was cold and dreary. It was fitting because that is how you felt on the inside. It was melancholic traveling back home all alone. You missed Timmy with every fiber of your being. You wanted to call him but decided that it was for the best if he had time and space to think. You wondered how his discussions with Amelia had gone.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss

my tag list is growing😊🥰

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut

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imaginethatneathuh · 2 months

Text

Raindrop Race: Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver - Marvel (Age of Ultron)

Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver x Reader, established relationship, romantic

The reader is racing raindrops, but Pietro interrupts them. A short fight ensues.

TW/CW: Verbal fighting

Word Count: 1.6+K

•

Rain patters against the window as you watch the water run down the panes.

You glare at two of the drops. The right one is slightly larger and more ovular than its compatriot. It looked perfect for winning a raindrop race, particularly in comparison to the left one. As you watch, it falls, and the race begins.

Righty grows bulbous as it rushes down, gathering water drops left and right. It’s a powerhouse of a raindrop.

Lefty lags behind, though. Seemingly, it refuses to soak up more water. The weight of it isn’t enough. Fortunately, as more rain comes down, Lefty is hit by a stroke of luck – and another raindrop. The luck doesn’t end there, though. No, instead, this causes Lefty to grow massive as it runs down the window pane, quickly outpacing Righty.

As Lefty nears the end, Righty decides to get with the program and picks up speed.

Will it be enough to hit the bottom before its competition?

Lefty refuses to stop, but it leaves behind a lot of water weight, slowing.

Lefty and Righty are neck-in-neck—seconds before finishing.

But then, something happens.

A gust of wind blows into you, knocking you off balance, just as the winner is about to be declared.

Pietro, the annoying ass, pulls you back into his arms, distracting you. When you focus back on the water drops, the race has finished.

The winner? Unknown.

“Dammit, Pietro!” You huffed, attempting to pull away from him.

But, as always, the speedster was too fast for his own good, and he tightened his hold around you.

“What? Can I not hug you now?”

You turn and glare at him, pushing him away.

Feeling the strength of your anger, he reluctantly lets you go, fingers trailing your sides before finally releasing you.

“Not when I was in the middle of something, Pietro!” You snapped.

He raised a brow and looked over your shoulder at the window. “There is nothing out there, though? It is just the same thing as it always is.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, I thought you liked my hugs.”

Sighing, you rubbed your forehead. “I wasn’t looking out there, Piet. I was looking at the raindrops—trying to see who’d win the big race! Now, I’ll never know because you distracted me.” You gave him an accusatory glare.

Pietro’s brow furrowed, and a frown came over his face. He cocked his head to the side like a confused pup. “So, you’d rather watch the rain than get a hug from your partner?” he asked.

“Yes!” you huffed in exasperation.

Pausing, you watched as Pietro’s confused look turned to one of hurt. “Wait, no, not like that. I didn’t–”

Before you could finish, Pietro ran off in a blue and grey blur.

Sighing, you fell back into the window and muttered, “Shit.”

•

A few minutes later, you’re standing at Pietro’s door, wondering whether or not you should even be here. A part of you said yes, as you knew letting him stew for too long wouldn’t be a good idea, but the other part of you was embarrassed and still a little angry at him for distracting you. But you did love him more than Raindrop Races. It was a close call between the two, but he ultimately won.

The real question was whether to knock or just send an apology text.

On the one hand, the text would be guaranteed to reach him, but it was a lot more cowardly.

On the other hand, there was no guarantee Pietro would answer his door nor even let you get a word out before slamming the door in your face.

The man had issues with any form of rejection, especially regarding you and his sister. You could never tell what might upset him or how long he’d be upset. Usually, a good cuddle session could fix it, but sometimes, he just wanted to stew alone.

That stewing often led him to the wrong conclusions, though—sometimes scarily wrong, like when Wanda told him she was going on a date with Vision. Now, that incident was an absolute nightmare.

Glaring at his door, you grumbled before deciding to just knock.

You’d text him if he didn’t open or if he slammed the door in your face. Probably something like, “I’m sorry. I was really into the race and wanted to see who won. I didn’t mean what I said. Your hugs are the best. I’ll make it up to you if you want?”

“Piet?” you asked, rapping your knuckles against the door. “Hun, are you in there? I wanted to apologize.”

Nothing.

You waited a few seconds to give him time to think and decide.

But, still, nothing.

Knocking again, you pulled out your phone.

Just as you unlocked your phone, the door opened.

Pietro stood there, only wearing his sleep shorts and a tank top. He set one hand on the frame and the other on the door, a defensive measure to be sure. “What? I thought you would rather be watching the rain.”

You sighed and looked down, slipping your phone away. “I didn’t mean that, Piet,” you said softly. “It’s kinda like how you get into your shows and don’t want to be interrupted unless someone’s life is in danger. I just got really into it like that. I’m sorry, hun. Your hugs are one of my favorite things, I swear,” you pleaded with a tentative step forward.

You searched his face for any signs of forgiveness. When he showed none, you added, “I’ll make it up to you if you want me to?”

That grabbed his attention, and his furrowed brow relaxed. His lips parted slightly. He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed you suspiciously.

“How exactly do you plan on making it up to me?” he asked.

You shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead,” you said. “Maybe we can cuddle?”

A giant grin spread over Pietro’s face as his eyes lit up at the mention.

The man was just too easy.

“Cuddles? Like, under the blankets, settled-down, lazy day cuddles?” he asked.

“Yes, hun, cuddles.” You smiled at his boyishness.

Without saying another word, Pietro pulled you into his room and slammed the door shut. He picked you up and tossed you onto the bed as you squealed.

“Pietro! Don’t do that!”

He just grinned before joining you. “You promised cuddles, and I want cuddles. If it is anyone’s fault, it is yours.”

“Well, you better get settled before I leave then,” you huffed, annoyed.

Your partner rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t let you,” he whispered in your ear before gently kissing your cheek.

In a blur, Pietro shed himself of his tank top and climbed in.

As you both settled in, he pulled you to his chest and wrapped his arms around you. Gently, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. His steady heartbeat was a beautiful melody, and the feel of his skin was nothing short of heaven to you as his warmth consumed you.

“Forgive me?” you asked quietly, not wanting to break the gentle quiet.

Pietro shrugged. “We’ll see after I get my fill.”

You paused and looked up at him, silently questioning the odd statement. Your brow creased as you studied him.

Thinking back, you remembered noticing him in your peripherals but too wrapped up in the raindrops to say anything. You also remembered the feeling of his gaze on you and how he knew how much you loved your raindrop races.

What he had done hit you then as you studied your partner. “Did you do this on purpose?”

Pietro refused to look at you and just held you closer.

“Pietro,” you questioned.

A long string of silence followed.

Finally, he let out a soft “maybe…”

You rolled your eyes but settled back against him anyway.

“You could’ve just asked, ya big baby.”

“But you could have said no! And I really wanted cuddles…, plus, you were ignoring me.”

You snorted at that, a small smile on your face. “You’re still a baby...and you know what, I think you owe me something for tricking me.”

You hear more than see the nervous gulp Pietro takes at your words and the no doubt sinister smirk that's slithered its way onto your face. His arms tightened around you as he spoke, "What did you have in mind, draga?"

He uses the pet name in his native tongue to try and dissuade any mischievous thoughts from swirling through your mind, a tactic he uses quite often, only topped by his habit of speeding away. But this time, you don't let it get to you; you remain firm in your decision to "punish" him for interrupting you on purpose like the little shit he is.

"Well, honey, it's pretty simple," you said, holding your next words back, letting the first half of your sentence hang in the following silence. This caused Pietro to become twitchy, anticipating what you'd say next: " Have a raindrop race with me?"

The words barely have time to leave your lips before a resounding "Yes!" clashes through the thunder heard in the distance. You're met with a brief feeling of weightlessness until you're settled in a pillow fort in front of Pietro's bedroom window.

You chuckle at his enthusiasm, leaning back against his chest, which practically vibrates in his excitement, "You know I could have gotten up myself, right?"

"Shh! You must pick your racer and prepare yourself for defeat."

Scoffing, you push his face away from your neck, the ticklish sensation of him running his nose along the sensitive skin causing you to giggle. "You're gonna be eating those words. You may be a speedster, but I'm an expert in raindrop races."

He laughs lightly, knowing it’s true. It’s why he was so excited; you rarely did this together.

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #marvel #age of ultron #the avengers

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abyssal-ali · 5 months

Text

'tis the damn season

Pairing: Luka Couffaine x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Rating: T | Ao3 | Masterlist

WC: 3.8k

A/N: For my wonderful Twinsie @wildbookcat 💜 Beta'd by @sneksnacc

Tiny flakes of powdery snow danced through the air, carried around by the whims of the wind. Luka envied their carelessness. Somehow, he had ended up at the Charles de Gaulle International Airport, waiting for his high school ex-girlfriend, who was also his little sister’s best friend, and thus someone he couldn’t avoid.

It wasn’t even that he was still heartbroken about the end of their ill-fated relationship (lie), or that they had ended on bad terms (was both parties being broken-hearted and depressed for the next several months ‘bad terms’?), the issue was that he didn’t know how Marinette was going to react.

They were now both adults, had a collective handful of ended relationships under their belts, and were mature enough to look past that summer, right?

Another gust of wind blew through the man-made wind tunnel–aka the main doors exiting the airport–and caused a shiver to go down Luka’s back. He was still affected by his reptilian Miraculous, though he’d returned it after Hawkmoth had been defeated seven years ago. He wondered how Marinette would deal with the snow and chill when she arrived, since she was even more attuned to her Miraculous than he had been, and she continued to wield the gems occasionally. Ladybugs didn’t like the cold either.

The doors slid open, another batch of travellers entering the snowy grey afternoon with a shiver.

A pink pom-pom caught his eye, and Luka stepped out of the car to wave at its owner.

“Marinette!”

Her head turned to him, surprise overtaking her features, before being replaced by a smile. “Luka!”

Her cheeks were already flushing pink, matching her coat and hat, Luka noticed when she stepped back from la bise. He picked up her suitcase, slung her bag over his arm, and motioned towards his blue VW Golf.

“Your parents were busy with the holiday rush, so they asked me to come get you when I was over there saying hi yesterday,” Luka explained, getting into the driver’s seat once he’d stored her things in the hatch.

“Couldn’t stay away from their pain au chocolat, huh?” Marinette teased him easily.

Luka exhaled soundlessly as he pulled away. Maybe this would go okay, after all.

“You know it. So, how long are you here for?”

Marinette settled back in her seat. “I’m not actually sure. I want something new, but old…no, familiar, at the same time.”

Luka hummed. “I hope you find it.”

“Thanks. So, why are you here? It’s been a while since either of us were in Paris,” she commented, blowing hot air on the window and doodling hearts and smiles with her fingertip.

“I thought it was time. Haven’t seen Ma and Juleka in a while, and I have friends here I wanted to catch up with. I’m currently on a break from producing, so I figured now was as good a time as any.”

“Right,” Marinette agreed. “It’s nice to see you again.”

And now the awkwardness was seeping through the car.

“You too; it’s been awhile,” he said softly. “I’m always happy to see you.”

Even if it hurts when I don’t.

Her gaze darted down to her mittenless hands, fidgeting with her short, buffed nails. Luka could see the calluses from being constantly pricked on the pads of her fingers; a thin red scrape on the side of her hand likely came from brushing against a pincushion the wrong way.

The snowflakes had gradually become larger and more frequent, so Luka turned on the wipers.

“So, I saw you snagged the honour of designing Clara’s outfit for the Grammys next year,” he commented to break the silence.

Usually, he was fine with silence, especially around Marinette, who often needed it, but right now he was acting very unlike himself. Coming back to Paris had stirred up all these old feelings and actions, and he cursed it in his mind.

“Yeah. I’m hoping coming back here will provide some inspiration. I want to pay homage to her roots,” Marinette explained. “We could go for a drive around all our old haunts, maybe. Oh, but you’ll probably be busy, sorry. I can drive around.”

“I’m not that busy.” He blurted the words before he thought. “You still don’t have a license, right? I don’t mind being your chauffeur.”

The snowflakes appeared to have come from Marinette’s sparkling eyes. “Thank you, Luka!” She watched him drive in silence for a while. “You haven’t really changed, even though you’re famous.”

He flicked a glance at her, slowing down for a red light. “You think so?”

She nodded. “You look older now, because you are, obviously, and your image-controlling people have changed your appearance somewhat, but at your core you’re still the same Luka I know from seven years ago.”

The light turned green, and Luka wondered if it was a sign for one delusional second before he pressed the gas again.

“Is that a compliment or not, Mari?” he asked, settling for a teasing inquisition instead.

‘It’s a good thing!” she insisted. “Okay, you’ve matured, but your essence is the same. You’re like…like a nice red wine! Aging improves a good thing!”

“Oh, so you’re calling me old now?”

Mari sputtered. “That’s not what I said at all! And men say women take things too seriously! Pfft!”

Luka couldn’t hold back his laugh as Marinette crossed her arms, her puffy jacket turning her into a cocoon of pink.

“I know what you meant, Mari; thank you for the compliment.”

She sniffed at the traces of humour in his penitent tone, but uncurled her arms.

“There’s the bakery. We should just have missed the closing rush,” Luka glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Have a good time, Marinette.”

“Thank you, you too! Oh, you can text me when you want to go for a drive. I still use the same number.”

“0-474-152-772?”

A wave of pink coated her cheeks. “You still remember it?”

I stare at it for a good half hour every week debating calling you or not. Of course I know it; it’s seared into my memory.

“Yep. I kept my old number too.” He popped the trunk and lifted her bags out.

“0-516-352-772?”

“Yep. Say hi to your parents for me!”

He placed her bags just inside the door, and then beat a hasty retreat. Why do you still remember my number?

~~~

How could she forget his number, when it spelled out her name?

Marinette sighed, waved goodbye at Luka’s car, then shut the door, ready to greet her parents.

“Maman! Papa! Guess who’s home!”

“Marinette! Sweetie, you made it!” Once the overwhelming hugs and bises had been exchanged, her parents looked curiously at the empty space behind her. “Luka got you here safely?” asked Sabine.

Mari nodded. “He was waiting for me at the airport; he asked me to say hi to you for him. He said you were busy with the holiday rush.”

Tom agreed. “We were sorry to miss picking you up, but our seasonal helper was sick, so we weren’t able to close and get you after all. Luka coming by and being free was fortunate.”

“It was nice to catch up with him,” Mari agreed. “I’ll just bring my bags up to my room and then we can catch up while we make dinner?”

“That sounds good,” agreed Sabine. Tom brought the luggage up, then left Mari to settle in after one more hug.

Looking around her room, Mari smiled at the remembrance of all the memories she had made in the pink space. Pictures clothespinned to her wall of fairy lights danced in the breeze as she twirled, releasing a deep breath and closing her eyes at the peace of being home again.

She could feel the ideas coming for Clara’s outfits.

It was a brilliant idea to come back to Paris.

~~~

It was a horrible idea to come back to Paris.

Why had he said yes to picking Marinette up?

Why had he said yes to driving Marinette around?

Why had he answered her text as soon as she sent it, at 2:08 am?

Why had he showed up at her door at 7:30 am, why had he let Tom drag him to the kitchen and feed him pastries (okay, that one was self-explanatory), why had he lingered and chatted, why why why.

The answer to all his questions was sitting in the passenger seat of the car he was borrowing from a friend, looking devastatingly beautiful and chattering away about how things had changed since she had left, a year before he had, and contrasting it to Los Angeles.

If he’d wanted to hear about her failed relationships after she defeated Hawkmoth, broke up with him, and moved away, he would have asked.

Luka was well aware that he was sulking, but he didn’t care at this moment. They were driving by College Francois Dupont, and the memories of that time weren’t the most pleasant.

“Ooh, I have an idea! Can you park here? I want to walk around for a bit.”

Luka dutifully pulled over, parking in an empty space between the school and the Methodist church down the block.

Marinette strolled around the quiet street, the fluffy flakes floating down muffling her footsteps and muttered monologue.

She returned to him eventually, scribbling away at her sketchbook.

Luka��s hand raised before he realised what he was doing.

“Luka? What are you doing?”

He blinked down at her, his hand frozen as she glanced up at him from under her bangs.

“You, um, snow-”

Why was he making this awkward? Biting the bullet, he gently brushed the accumulated snow off the top of Marinette’s ponytail.

She flashed him a smile and climbed back into her seat.

“Where to next, Mari?”

~~~

“So, any plans for your break?” Mari clutched a mug of cocoa in her hands, careful not to drop it over the edge of her balcony on the head of some unsuspecting passersby out admiring the lights.

Luka leaned his back against the balcony, blowing on his own mug. “I haven’t made anything firm yet, but I expect my schedule will fill up rather quickly.”

Mari hummed. “I guess I should book our hangouts while you’ve still got room for me then, Mr. Hot-Demand.”

“I’ll always have room for you, Mari.”

She smiled at him before turning back to the cityscape. “I’ve missed this view.”

The real view nudged her shoulder. “Old memories coming back, huh? I’m glad you’re able to miss it, Mar.”

“Did you miss it?” She turned on her back to be companionably side-to-side with him.

“The city? Not so much. The people in it? Yeah, I missed them a lot.”

She nodded in understanding. “Did you miss the people who weren’t in it, too?”

He sipped his cocoa. “Everyday.”

~~~

Marinette opened her eyes, breathing deeply. There was nothing like a full ten hours of sleep in your childhood room, warm and cozy under blankets as the snow drifted by the window hypnotizingly, your secret love snuggled up beside you-

Oh yeah, she’d made Luka stay the night, saying it was too cold to walk back home as her excuse to have him sleep here. Her fingers brushed a teal lock back from his forehead as she took in his peaceful features. Honestly, they weren’t much different from his usual everyday expressions. She envied his calm, never being able to stay still for long.

Luka shifted, blinking sleepily at her, a sleepy smile curving his lips. “Morning, Mari.”

His arm raised to trace a feather-light path down her cheek to cup her neck and pull her towards him.

She let him guide her closer, her breath catching in her throat.

“Mari, if you’re up, could you help out at the register for a bit?” called Sabine through the door.

Luka jerked away and Mari rolled out of bed with a thump. “Be there in a minute, Maman!”

“Are you okay?” he peeked over the edge of her mattress.

“Just fine,” she rubbed her behind. Luckily, the duvet had cushioned her fall.

“Er, sorry about that,” Luka ran his fingers through his messy locks.

“It’s fine,” she shrugged off the hurt, grabbing a pair of jeans and a flower-embroidered sweater off the back of her chaise. “Want me to save you anything for breakfast when I go down?”

“A quince pastry would be nice.”

“Got it. See you!” She fled down the stairs to the secondary powder room to change and twist her hair into a braid. Ready to suppress the feelings stoked by Luka’s earlier actions, she washed her hands and prepared to face the public.

Luka wandered downstairs a while later, looking neat and as if he hadn’t slept in her bed and almost greeted her with a kiss before they were interrupted and then ignored it.

She could feel Sabine and Tom pause in their work as they took in the situation and incorrectly interpreted it.

“Oh, I thought we missed you leaving last night, Luka,” smiled Sabine. “Are you-”

“Here’s your pastry,” interrupted Marinette, thrusting the napkin-wrapped goods into Luka’s hand. “You’re lucky I saved you the last one.”

“Er, lucky, yeah. About that. Can I talk to you? Later, I guess, when you’re not busy,” he cast a glance at the blatantly listening bakers.

“Sure. We can go for another drive in about an hour? Around one?”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Bye, Tom, Sabine.” With a wave, he ducked out the door, leaving a bill in Marinette’s now-empty hands for the pastry.

She turned to her parents. “It’s not what it looks like. It was late and cold and I didn’t want him walking home in the snow-”

“Mhm,” Sabine raised a knowing brow. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Marinette shook her head. “Not yet.”

~~~

Luka shook his head, sending accumulated flurries flying off his hair. He’d had the most lovely dream, waking up to Marinette cosying up to him in his bed, smiling at him lovingly. Except it hadn’t been a dream, and he’d almost kissed her.

He was not going to go down the path they’d travelled in school, with the secrets and barriers between them. She still didn’t know he knew she was Ladybug and the Guardian, and she hadn’t told him. He wasn’t going to lie to himself; it hurt a little.

Realistically, he knew there were several reasons why she wouldn’t bring it up (not the least of which because she didn’t want to dredge up those traumas again) but emotionally, he was simply hurt by her still not trusting him with her identity even though she’d entrusted Sass and literal timelines to him.

Still, his therapist in the States had done him good.

He was going to tell Marinette he knew on their drive this afternoon, get everything off his chest, and then leave it in her hands while he returned to LA and broke his heart over her for the last time. Yep, sounded like a good plan.

~~~

Marinette climbed into the car. Luka closed her door, crossed the front, and slid into the driver’s seat.

“Where to?”

“I thought maybe we could just drive around this time, unless there’s somewhere you wanted to go?”

“No, that sounds fine.” He took a sip from the mocha she had supplied them with, humming appreciatively. “This is perfect; thanks, Mari.”

“You’re welcome.”

He started the car and pulled away.

They drove in silence for a while, occasionally pointing out some place they and their friends had adventures at.

Luka pointed at the tip of the Eiffel Tower. “That thing was destroyed more times than I can count.”

She made an agreeing noise, thinking back to some of the battles the Tower had seen.

“Marinette, I need to talk about something with you.”

She nodded, looking at the un-Luka-like tension in his body language. “Okay.”

“I was Viperion, on the Miraculous team. I reset so many timelines. It was impossible not to know who my allies were, with all the mishaps occurring. I’ve known you were Ladybug for years.”

She stilled, breathing stuttering as old trauma resurfaced. Someone knew she was Ladybug, something bad happened.

Reminding herself that Hawkmoth was gone, she wasn’t Ladybug anymore, and she was safe, she regulated her breathing and thoughts.

“I knew you were Ladybug when we were dating, and that your identity was why you were so hesitant to open up. I thought now would be a good time to tell you that you don’t have to keep that secret alone anymore.”

“Luka, I-”

“It’s okay, Mari. I didn’t hold it against you. After all, we were all kids. Just thought I could even the score before I leave, since we both know each other’s secret,” he muttered.

“I- you-” she stuttered, falling silent as her thoughts whirled.

“I’m flying out tomorrow afternoon,” he broke the silence after a few minutes. “Don’t worry, I haven’t told another soul and I never will. But, if you ever want to talk about it…you have my number.”

She nodded, still processing. “Thank you, Luka. For- well, everything. I’m sorry for what I put you through.”

He gave her a smile meant to be reassuring and forgiving, but she knew it was fake. “Have a happy new year, Marinette.”

Strangely feeling like she’d been broken up with, she closed the car door and walked into the bakery, where her parents met her.

“Everything okay, sweetie?”

She shook her head. “I think I need to take you up on your offer to talk about it.”

~~~

Luka packed his suitcase methodically, thoughts with one person miles away.

He wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected when he’d told her he knew.

Maybe for her to ask him out again since they had no secrets between them anymore? Okay, that was his wildest dream, but he supposed she hadn’t changed that much, still taking her time to process things. Not that he blamed her–having a magical emotional terrorist attacking your city didn’t exactly inspire impulsive actions regarding your feelings.

His therapist had told him that there were seasons in one’s life, and sometimes people were only meant to be with you for a season, like a flower. Others were like trees, there no matter the weather. He wanted her to be a tree, but maybe she was only a flower. Whatever she was, he’d always remember the beauty of her blooms and the sweetness of her perfume.

“‘Tis the damn season,” he mumbled, slinging his guitar case over his back and picking up his suitcase.

He’d left her with a reminder of his phone number. Hoping she’d call him one day, he drove to the airport. He only realised he’d chosen the route that took him by the bakery as he passed it, peering in the window to catch a glimpse of Marinette working the register.

~~~

Marinette wasn’t having a good day. She’d taken forever to fall asleep, tossing and turning as she stewed over Luka and her parents’ advice.

They’d understandably been surprised by her explanation of the inner workings of her and Luka’s short-lived relationship, but provided some valuable outside-perspective commentary.

After a fitful sleep, she’d been working the register while her parents worked on a rush-order of pastries, her mind consumed by thoughts of Luka.

“Here’s your change, ma’am. Have a happy new year!” Handing the coins over, she wiped her hands on her apron and tidied up the counter space.

Clean up complete, she ran upstairs to change into jeans, boots with Ladybug pom-poms, a turtleneck, and her favourite Viperion hoodie she’d worn thin.

She tossed a quick goodbye over her shoulder to her parents and ran out the door, waving her hand at an approaching taxi.

“International airport, please,” she huffed, buckling her belt.

“Hope you’re not late for your flight, mademoiselle. The snow is slowing traffic,” said the driver.

Marinette clasped her hands to stop her nervous fidgeting, calling on all of Tikki’s luck that she’d arrive before Luka’s flight left.

~~~ Luka wasn’t having a good day. He’d slept off and on, was leaving his first love behind, and now he couldn’t even do that because of the sudden snowstorm. All flights were postponed or cancelled for the time being.

So far his flight was only cancelled, so he found a comfortable piece of carpet to claim and began strumming an imaginary guitar while he waited for updates.

Snippets of lyrics floated through his brain as he composed a piece containing his feelings in the moment.

“I won’t ask you to wait…if you don’t ask me to stay…” He hummed softly.

The sound of running feet made him look up, curious who thought they were late for a flight that wasn’t taking off.

“Marinette?” “Luka?”

She paused in front of him, catching her breath.

“Why are you here?” he asked cautiously, getting to his feet.

“To see you,” she panted. “Didn’t want you to go.”

His heart picked up pace as if he’d been the one running through the airport. “Really?” “Really. I want you. I have for years. Is there any way you can stay?” she asked softly.

“I’ll stay any way I can if you ask, Ma-ma-marinette,” he grinned. “I love you. I never stopped.”

She tiptoed to be face-to-face with him. “I love you too,” she whispered in his ear before greeting him with a soft kiss. It felt like home and the beginning of everything and the end of everything and the past and future all wrapped up into one amazing kiss in the present.

He cupped her face in his hands, resting his forehead on hers.

~~~

Luka drove them back to the bakery, keeping her hand entwined with his. They stepped into the entry, stomping snow off their boots. Sabine and Tom greeted them as if it was an everyday occurrence, though Marinette saw the happy spark in their eyes.

“Just in time for the party!” boomed Tom. “Dinner is ready; let’s sit!”

After a festive new year’s eve dinner and delicious buche, Luka and Marinette carried their flutes of champagne up to Marinette’s balcony to watch the firecrackers and revellers beneath them.

Chanting filled the air, little sparks in the distance showing where firecrackers had been set off.

“10! 9!” The countdown to the new year had begun.

“My new year’s resolution is to have the woman I love become my girlfriend. Will you be my girlfriend?” Luka asked.

“4!”

Marinette nodded vigorously. “Yes!”

“3! 2! 1!”

Horns sounded, firecrackers popped, and hollers filled the air, but Marinette and Luka heard none of it, too wrapped up in each other.

“Joyeuse annee, Luka.”

“Bonne annee, Marinette.”

#ali writes #Lukanette #Fic #Marinette dupain cheng x Luka Couffaine

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fatuismooches · 8 months

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its like... late and i need to dump all the little angst scenarios i think of in my dumb little head (i didnt include all of the harbingers because i didnt have ideas for all of them... sob sniff) (i need someone you understand and u are the #1 fatui lover in my heart)

After the funeral of the readers beloved, the tsaritsa never know that the readers tears were harsher than her blizzards (this sounds so corny but it's late plea)

The reader begging their harbinger s/o not to go on a mission in the nation the traveler is at because they're so paranoid that they'll end up in a coffin as well. (this could work in the same universe as the previous one) (Oh No .)

Dottore's lover feeling inadequate to his intelligence, so they end up staying up until ungodly hours studying and Dottore doesn't notice due to his lack of a need for sleep, causing them to collapse due to exhaustion while helping Dottore with his experiments

Columbina's lover practicing so hard for a duet they're supposed to perform that they end up losing their voice the day before the performance

Capitano's lover growing frustrated yet feeling selfish at him treating them like glass. They know it's because he's being overly weary of his strength, but they'd rather be crushed in a hug than treated like a porcelain doll that'll crack at the slightest gust of wind (it took me, way too hard to spell porcelain it was humiliating .)

Back to the handmade gift darling for pantalone.. Pantalone's darling who feels so frustrated because they know their gifts will never amount to the beautiful accessories he can just buy, unable to realize it's the love behind them that Pantalone cherishes

La Signora's lover wanting to be someone she can rely on, but it's early in the relationship and her heart has not yet melted for the reader. The reader wonders if it's their fault, not knowing La Signora just doesn't know how to deal with pure hearted love again.

Scaramouche's lover being mistaken for a caretaker because of the height difference /JOKING ILL BE SERIOUS

Scaramouche's lover often feeling themselves get closer to succumbing to their mortality. It's the little things, but it makes them oh so paranoid.. They've done everything to try to stop it, hell they even went to The Doctor about it against Scaramouche's wishes, but there's nothing that isn't.. inhumane that can happen. If they take the offer is up to you to decide <3

(cw; vomit) Arlecchino's lover who is a performer, who gets so nervous and paranoid about messing up that they end up vomiting backstage, causing the performance to have to take an emergency intermission/delay depending on how large the role the reader was playing. (I don't think she'd know immediately? i think she'd have to hear some like, other actors gossiping about it to realize)

- 🎈 is going insane

🎈 ANON WHO HURT YOU..........

Though only Harbingers were allowed to be at the funeral for another Harbinger, out of courtesy, you were allowed to be there as well. Did you care about the looks you were getting from the others? No. All you could see was your beloved's coffin that they should not be in. They should be by your side, still in this world. But they weren't and would never be ever again. Should you have tried harder to convince them not to go? You should have accompanied them at the very least. Maybe you could have protected them somehow. But no one can turn back time. (We know reader is gonna be on the Traveler's ass from then on... they are NOT safe. Reader gets a personal apology and head pat from the Tsaritsa though... she knows what they're going through.)

STOP THE DOTTORE ONE ACTUALLY HIT ME CUZ THAT'S SOMETHING I'D PROBABLY DO 😭💔 It was so hard sometimes, always comparing yourself to him, not to mention, you knew other people looked down on you because surely there was no someone like you could ever compare to the intelligence of the Doctor? And well, they were probably right, but that didn't make it hurt any less :( Yet no matter how much you tried you always felt inferior to his brilliance, and in fact only managed to hinder him more with your lack of performance.

You were so scared about not being able to live up to Columbina's voice, that you'd only mess up and thus damage her reputation and embarrass the both of you to all of Snezhnaya. You could not bear for that to happen and forced yourself to practice even more by yourself without Bina knowing. She is far more upset by the fact you hurt yourself rather than the performance :( (But she will have to call up Dottore for a quick remedy dw)

CAPITANO 😭😭 It bothered you a little bit at first, but you thought as the relationship moved on he would too, and he would realize that you're not as weak as he thinks, and he should have more faith in himself! You're wrong. It's been months and he's still scared to even do the basics of affection. And it's driving you crazy. You just want your husband... to *be* your husband! You want to hug him and be picked up bridal style and be carried and all of the sort! You're going to have to have a serious talk with him and hopefully Capitano will understand before he loses his spouse 🚶‍♀️

breaking down at Pantalone's... 🎈 ANON ARE U OK. You loved making handmade gifts for your beloved but you couldn't help but compare them to others. How could your little trinkets ever hold up to the expensive and professionally made ones? Yours were practically nothing to them, there was no real value in them and were easily discarded. You start to get a bit embarrassed by them and stop making it, to which Pantalone is confused. (Little do you know Pantalone much more cares for the sentimental value of your gifts, the fact that you pour so much time, energy, and most importantly love, into it, warms his heart far more than you'd ever know.)

SIGNORA MY BABY NO. She hasn't been vulnerable in so long, to the point where she doesn't even know how to open herself up again, especially in a romantic manner. She loves you, she really does, but she simply cannot give herself to you completely yet. It's a long, enduring process... one that you would absolutely wait for no matter the duration. Unfortunately, the communication skills are not the best as Signora doesn't know how to convey this to you nor do you know how to bring it up.

HELP SCARAAAA 😭 If you're taller than him then he'll definitely always be salty about it 💀 But ahem. Moving onto the angst. You are literally so big brained because I kind of wrote something like this for a Scara fic but scraped it but!! YES!! I imagine after reader hears Scara's backstory, all the people he has lost and was "betrayed" by, they would never want to put him through that kind of suffering and pain ever again. You do not want to be another "betrayal" in his life. And who else knows the answer to immortality, a longer life, better than the Doctor he's been working with...? The scientist promises that it won't hurt... not too much at least. He'll see what he can do... with some compromises in return.

You always loved performing, but even you got the jitters. Sometimes. Well, most of the time actually. And it was even worse when you knew your lover would be watching. You were terrified of messing up, to not living up to her high standards. You could handle criticism but thinking of the possible sharp and harsh words Arlie could give you made you sick with worry and fear. Unbeknownst to Arlecchino, she had no idea you were so caught up with what other people thought.

Not you giving me mega brainrot,,, these will permanently be etched into my tiny little brain

#smooches talks #🎈 anon #💔 <- my heart rn #harbingers love notes <3 #BUT OMG?? IM THE NO 1. FATUI LOVER TO U?? 😭ILY ANON❤️#me personally id be a little scared for them but also excited for stories of them causing chaos (dottore specially)#no bc i completely understand reader in pantalones too... sometimes im scared my handmade gifts arent as good as money bought ones too #me unfortunately is hella short so scara would be prolly making fun of me as well😭

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marchtooctober · 7 months

Text

Twiyor Month Prompt #XI:

Royal AU

My fic contribution @twiyorbase

👑 More Than Meets the Eye 👑

"Your Highness. I was ordered by Prince Yuri to give this fresh harvest... of apples."

Upon seeing the sleeping princess, Lionel placed the basket of apples on the table.

"Your Highness? Princess Yor?"

She really is asleep. The embroidery that she had been working on was almost half-way done, resting on her lap and about to fall from her hands. Threads of different colors were on her feet.

Lionel approached her.

"This is dangerous, Your Highness. You should not be holding on to these while you're sleeping. You might get hurt by the needle." He said, despite not expecting any response.

He took the embroidery and threads. Ever so lightly, his finger grazed the princess' hand. Lionel flinched away in surprise. It was enough to cause him a slight fluttering. He gazed at the princess.

Her divine features will never be justified by any portrait.

"Hnn..."

The princess stirred a little, causing her head to slide sidewards. With a quick move of his hand, Lionel caught the princess' head, preventing it from hitting the chair's carvings. He then carefully placed the princess' head on the backrest.

Suddenly a gust blew.

"Ah! The embroidery!"

Lionel picked up the fallen item and placed it once again on the table. When he turned once again, he let out a soft laugh. The princess' hair was disheveled by the wind. He bent over and moved away the strands of hair from her face.

As he has always thought, her rosy cheeks and lips are incomparable to apples. Not even the freshly picked ones that he just brought could come close.

Before he knew it, the back of his fingertips are on the princess' cheek, lightly touching.

It was warm.

How much Lionel wanted to remain this way. But it was wrong. He doesn't have the right to yearn for her. Not yet. Especially when he hasn't even uttered a single word regarding his feelings.

He loves her beyond her divine features. He loves her for she is strong-willed and kind, bearing herself with dignity and grace. Princess Yor Briar deserves a man of equal character, who will never taint her honor. Lionel might not be that person.

And if Lionel were to confess now, it will mean trampling over not only the princess' commitment but also his own perseverance.

For now, the princess only sees him as a mere guardsman. A person of low standing. Still, he wanted to know if he can win her over in spite of it.

Lionel knows that by confessing his ardent affection, he will also have to confess the bigger truth behind it.

How much longer can he suppress his feelings?

▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•

It's short but that's it. Actually, this is meant to be a series and I'm still in the process of writing it though I'm sad to say that I am yet to finish ch1 🙃😅. But I already have a concrete plot in mind. I'm just really struggling with writing the chapters. STILL, I CAN'T GUARANTEE ANYTHING.

My plan is to finish the full series first before posting it as a whole. All at once. Because I'm not fond of re-editing fics when I'm done with it (typos are fine but plot and dialogue fixing bums me). I want to finish it first even if it means it will take another year because I want to be satisfied with what I wrote before sharing it with you.

Since I'm going to do it to be enjoyed by others, I might as well ensure that the effort is worth the attention it gets. That's my pride as a fan content creator lol

#spy x family #sxf fanfic #loiyor #twiyor #twiyor month #twiyoctober #royal au #yor #twilight #lionel #thorn princess #more than meets the eye #twiyor drabble #sxf drabble

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luniellar · 2 months

Text

Breathe Me (Garrick Tavis X OC/Reader) - Chapter 3 - The Empyrean Series Fanfiction

When Xaden Riorson and Garrick Tavis arrive at Samara, they are forced to prove themselves all over again. When Xaden heads off to see Violet at Basgiath since their dragons are mated, Garrick finds himself alone in this unfamiliar area trying to get his name established navigating fights and ambushes. He owed his life to the man.

One particular night when Xaden leaves for Basgiath, Garrick finds himself with a new company. One who starts turning his world upside down and giving him something, that isn't just the Xaden and rebellion, to fight for. ______________________________________

All rights to Rebecca Yarros for her original work and original characters. My scenes and characters are my own. ______________________________________

Contains: Fourth Wing/Iron Flame Spoilers Warnings: Language

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

Read on AO3 | Wattpad

Lei Aukai

“Wake, now.”

When I opened my eyes my senses were clouded in anxiousness. I clutched my heart trying to dull the feeling. Cosheirm was seeing something.

“What’s wrong?”

I haven’t woke up with this kind of feeling since the last time when -

Cosheirm cut in. She was always good about protecting me. She was stopping me before my thoughts could wander off to eternal sadness.

“I was flying by the south clearing of Samara when I noticed another brown. It looks like Chradh has been circling the area for a while.”

I pulled up my hair in my high ponytail and dressed in my gear within seconds. “Do you see anyone else?”

“Yes, from the looks of it, Sgyael will be arriving.”

Garrick must have called Xaden as well. I sheath my blade behind me. “I’ll meet you outside, Coshe.”

✦ ✦ ✦

I ran outside, moving as fast as I could to get to the dragon rendezvous point. Only the dim moonlight lit up the area outside. The field around me blurred as I felt the electric blue energy course through my veins allowing me to jump from one area to the next. The cool air filled my lungs and when I reached the clearing, I saw a familiar figure. His massive height alone was all I needed to know who that was.

A gust of wind blew around us as Chradh landed near him. If looks could kill…Chradh was menacing. Deep gashes and scars from fallen dragons who dared to share Chradh’s presence in the sky were visible from this far distance. Steam blew out of its nostrils as it looked around the field before locking eyes with mine. The crimson-red eyes watched me curiously.

Garrick turned and I politely waved over to him who looked just as surprised. Gods, did I just do that? He started to walk towards me and he paused for a second to look up at the sky. Another gust of wind blew behind me.

“Coshe,” I mentally greeted. I watched as Garrick moved his way over to me. His posture was tall and strong as his long legs glided over the ground. The thick dark curls on his head bounced on his head with each step.

“Lei? What are you doing here?” He asked once he knew I was within listening distance.

“Uh,” I started not sure how to answer the question. “I, uh, had a hard time sleeping when I heard Coshe.” It was kind of true.

Coshe grunted behind me. It was her form of rolling her eyes at me. “Coshe saw Chradh circling a particular area and got curious. It could be dangerous. Let me fly with you.”

A huge grin appeared on Garrick’s face revealing his perfect smile. Chradh stepped forward tilting its head at me. My heart skipped a beat. “I appreciate the concern, but Xaden is already on his way. I think we got it covered.”

“An extra pair of wings won’t hurt right?” I added. Garrick shook his head. Was I being too pushy? I think I remembered Iris saying something about how guys don’t like girls who are too pushy?

“This could be dangerous, Lei.” My name sounded so special in his voice. He stepped closer to me and he was within arms reach. His gaze moved up to my head and moved across my face down to my… lips. My mouth parted. “I’ll find you in the morning.”

“I’m not five, Garrick,” I replied. “I’ve handled dangerous things before. I won’t get in your way.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “This is not the kind of danger you think. There are some secrets I’m not allowed to tell-”

“About venins?” I cut him off and his mouth dropped open like I froze time. He blinked back at me with his eyes open. I trust my gut with this one because this sick feeling has been stirring in my gut since the moment I woke up. I was told that the majority of the people in the Continent didn’t know about venins, but it looks like I was wrong.

“I tried to keep it away from you,” Coshe admitted.

“You know I always appreciate you,” I replied.

“Did you just say-” Garrick asked when he finally found his voice again.

“Yes, I know about venins. So let me fly with you and Xaden.”

“How did you-” Garrick started to say and frowned, glancing back at Chradh. “Chradh wants us in the air right now. Xaden is close. Are you sure you want to do this?”

I smiled and turned to Coshe. “Come on, the last one in the sky is a loser.” I heard thuds as Garrick’s footsteps hit the ground and he made his way to Chradh.

Once I mount Coshe, she springs into the air, her wing pulling in strong gusts of wind. To my surprise, Chradh is right behind us as we stabilize in the sky. Half a second later, Garrick is flying beside me keeping up with Coshe’s pace.

I raise my right hand, pointing my pointer and thumb toward him, making an uppercase L above my forehead. As Coshe thrusts her wings and propels us forward past Chradh, I swear I heard his deep laughter echo in the sky.

Garrick Tavis

After a short flight, I see Xaden and Sgaeyl in the air with us. When my flying speed slows down, Coshe and Sgaeyl follow, repositioning their location diagonally behind Chradh. I can sense that Chradh is trying to locate the runes again.

“Anything?” I ask after a moment of circling.

”Yes, the rune is weaker now, but it’s still there.” Chradh replies. “I don’t sense the venin.”

I look down and see a structure that looks like an old wooden abandoned building out on a small clearing from this distance. Although the clearing was small, it was enough for three dragons to land. I throw a hand gesture in the air to signal Xaden and Lei that we will be landing here. I hold on tight as Chradh dives down effortlessly and lands on the clearing field. A few seconds later I hear two other dragons land.

Across the clearing is a larger version of the same old wooden building. From a closer distance, I could see that the windows were boarded up with planks. There was a small entrance located on the side of the building.

Xaden walked up from behind me inspecting the structure with narrowed eyes. I glanced behind to make sure Lei was okay. I didn’t know why I was so worried when it came to Lei. Maybe it was because I was always used to new riders at Basgiath either barfing or tripping after dragon flights. Lei stood up from where she was sitting on Coshe’s rough back. I watched as she crouched down, buckling her legs like springs. I took a step forward when I saw her jump off, but she landed so gracefully.

“What’s her deal?” Xaden asked.

“I don’t know,” I replied as I turned back to face the structure when I saw her walking towards us. “I met her on the flight field.”

“Do you trust her?”

I was about to reply, but Lei walked up behind us. Of course, I trusted Xaden with everything, but I didn’t know if her knowledge about venin was my secret to tell. I cleared my throat as her sweet vanilla scent filled the space around us. I don’t think I could ever get used to that.

“Alright, you guys can keep watch for me while I check inside,” Lei said as she stepped on the other empty side beside me.

I looked over at her. “What? No, you stand watch with Xaden. I’m familiar with runes.”

She looked up at me, meeting my eyes. “You guys are new to the Samara outpost and by seniority alone, you both fall under my supervision right now.” Lei glanced over to Xaden. “I never had anyone fall under my supervision and I am not going to make today my first.”

“Garrick and I will stand patrol,” Xaden said and walked over to the empty clearing behind the building. His shadows thrived in this environment and there was no way either of us was going to fall tonight. But, he didn’t argue back.

“But-”

Lei reached her hand over her back and pulled out her sword from her back in one clean motion. “No buts. Help me by watching my back,” she smiled and started making her way over to the door. I knew she was skilled and more than capable. But, I wanted to hold her back. I didn’t like the thought of her going in there by herself.

I know Chradh said no venins, but we didn’t know what the runes were. I looked behind me and saw Lei wave her hands over the door followed by a soft thud as the door creaked open.

“Look forward,” Chradh reminded me from the sky. “You must focus on your duties so she can do hers.” All three dragons were circling the skies.

I clenched my jaw and looked ahead. My eyes carefully examined every inch of the forested areas. I didn’t see any movement. Everything was still. As my eyes rescanned the fields, my mind couldn’t place why the rune's presence weakened by the time we arrived.

It wasn’t like the rune was moved to a different location or hidden underground. According to Chradh, the rune was always located in this abandoned building. Then, there was also the venin presence. Was the venin here to monitor the rune? But if the rune was important to be monitored, why would the venin not have a patrol set up? Nothing was adding up.

Unless the rune was worthless from the start. A meaningless rune designed to create a strong presence to attract whoever was nearby. It only needed to hold the presence until it attracted the prey. No . I turned around and started running. This was a trap.

A scream pierced my ears, the sound shattering the stillness. My heart raced as I ran as fast as I could to the wooden building. I felt the same uneasiness in my chest from earlier, stirring in my chest. That was the venin and I knew I was moving closer to it.

When I got to the doorway, a cloaked figure was holding a body in the air by the throat. Lei’s hands were clenched around her neck, grabbing a hold of the cloaked figure’s wrists. Her feet kicked in the air desperately as the figure lifted her higher.

“Lei!” I screamed as I reached for my iron dagger and ran at the cloaked figure at full speed. Winding up my arms, I was ready to drive the dagger when the figure turned to me, his brown eyes were rimmed with red with protruding veins glaring back at me. He smiled as he effortlessly moved Lei’s body where I was planning to drive the dagger.

No.

I immediately dropped the dagger and my hand grazed off to the side. The cloaked venin grinned as he kicked my ribs, knocking me off to the side. The force was nothing like I felt before. My back hit the wall and I gasped for air. My vision blurred for a second as my eyes fixed on Lei's body hovering with her hands dangling. I blinked slowly trying to stay conscious. A loud thud rang in my ears. When I opened my eyes again, Lei’s body was now lying next to mine.

“So pathetic,” the venin’s voice rang out. Something about the voice was familiar. “This is so fucking easy.”

I looked up to see a glint of a blade in the venin’s hand. He pulled his arms for the final strike and I pushed off the floor reaching for a dagger strapped to my side. Everything was in slow motion as his blade came down. No, I was too slow.

The darkness surrounded me. I couldn’t see anything. No Lei. No Venin. Did I die? I didn’t feel the blade and my ribs were still bruised. It would suck if this pain was going to be persistent on my way to see Malek.

“I didn’t expect you to be here, Riorson .”

I blinked again and the familiar moonlit space came into my vision. I looked across from me as Lei was lying there with her eyes closed. Xaden had covered us with his shadows.

“You’re shadow-wielding skills are like what they say. It’s truly exceptional.”

Why did this voice bother me so much? I looked up and I caught a glimpse of his blond hair with his hood down. What the fuck.

“What the fuck do you want, Pratt?” Xaden replied.

“I was just trying to teach Tavis here a lesson. I was hoping little Lei would join him. She was always so fucking predictable. But you… I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Silence filled the air again as I watched Pratt step over Lei’s body to Xaden. “We are waiting for you. If you give me a name drop when you decide to stop by, I won’t kill Tavis.”

What the fuck was going on between Xaden and Pratt? I pressed my palm against the floor and slowly propped myself up. I stared toward the doorway where Pratt’s cloak was covering Xaden’s body. The floor felt like it was shaking as I dragged myself over to Lei, taking her hand into mine. I wrapped my finger around her wrist and confirmed her pulse.

Thank the gods.

“I will never choose to join you,” Xaden replied.

Pratt continued to walk forward, passing Xaden. “I have no interest in killing you, Riorson. You might want to get Lei to a healer soon though.” He turned around and his eyes shifted from Xaden to me. “I choked her pretty well.”

My free hand clenched into a tight fist. “You fucking pussy,” I spat out. Fuck, I tasted iron in my mouth.

“I will see you guys around,” Pratt chimed back cheerfully. “Next time, I will crush you with my hands Tavis. Oh and Riorson, think through my offer again. It still stands. Your best friend will get to keep his head.”

Pratt turned around and walked off his black cloak dragging behind him.

#fanfiction #fanfic #romance #the empyrean #garrick tavis #original character #iron flame #fourth wing #xaden riorson #violet and xaden #chradh #friends to lovers #dragons #drama #blood #action #language

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