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saintobio · 8 days

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ACT I. THE LADY

amidst the tale of sweetest love and bitterest revenge, the fallen empress is cast back ten years into the past to correct her sins and avoid eternal damnation, even at the price of betraying her once husband, the very cause of her downfall.

♱ pairings. gojo satoru, fem!reader

♱ genre. enemies-to-lovers, period piece, medieval au

♱ tags. ooc, regression, crown prince!gojo, noble lady!reader, politics, classism, clan wars, religion (catholicism), slight mentions of gore

♱ notes. 6.5k wc, unedited. again, for anyone who missed my small announcement, the ‘juliet’ from my megumi r+j fic has a name here for narration purposes. she remains as you or yn in the original fic tho :) feedback would be highly appreciated!

series masterlist ♱ act two.

“I humbly beg your pardon, Your Imperial Highness. The lady declines any audience at this time.”

Throughout his princely life, Satoru had never before faced rejection from any of his subjects, let alone one of his own citizens. No one ever dared to deny the Crown Prince as they were aware of the consequences of offending a member of the imperial family, let alone the future Emperor of Caelum.

So, how could this mere daughter of a duke summon the courage to refuse his audience?

It was baffling to him. Were you not the one who had written him a lovestruck letter requesting a meeting? As one of the eligible brides for the Crown Prince and a strong contender for the position of Crown Princess, it was only natural for you to vie for his affection and secure your spot on the imperial throne. You had it all; the status, the power, the wit. You had quite the face, too. This would have been an opportune moment for you to ensnare his favor and win him over. Yet, what reason could you possibly have now to suddenly decline his audience?

“On what grounds did she refuse?” Satoru maintained a stern demeanor as he stood beside his white horse, scrutinizing the servant from the De Roma estate who trembled before the prince. His blue velvet cloak and imperial insignia added to the overall intimidation of his presence.

The maid, mindful of the perils that may befall her for the actions of her master, spake with evident apprehension. “The lady offered no explanation, Your Highness. She simply wishes to remain in her chamber.”

Needless to say, he felt a mixture of amusement and intrigue at this situation. The same noble lady who had previously been forward in her advances and infatuation towards him was now avoiding an opportunity to get acquainted? And to think, he had believed he was doing you a favor by granting you a chance to spend time with him this noontide.

“Very well.” The prince gazed down at the servant with a stern expression, raking his slender fingers through his arctic white hair before mounting his war horse. “Remind the lady that there are consequences for denying the rights of the imperial family. Each slight she casts is an arrow to her neck. Let her know that there shall not be another chance such as this.”

He sensed the maid’s fear after she offered him a curtsy, yet he could not fathom how she remained steadfast in her refusal to grant him access to your drawing room despite his clearly spoken warning. She was guarding the entrance to the estate as though she would face greater consequences for letting the crown prince in than for keeping him out. Were you truly so stringent in maintaining your distance from him?

So be it. If that was your game, then let it be played. In fact, you might be trying to seem hard-to-get after the stunts you had pulled at the hunting expedition two weeks hence. If his memory served him right, you were the one who sabotaged Lady Anastasia’s crossbow and led her in her near-fatal experience. You see, you might have gotten away with it, but Satoru was a witness to your deliberate crime. He had seen you tampering with Lady Anastasia’s weapon, replacing her regular bolts with ones laced with fast-acting poison, which left the poor lady paralyzed in the middle of a dangerous hunt. Had it not been for Satoru, Lady de Florentine would have likely been mauled by a wild boar.

Yet, his intervention only seemed to stoke your ire even more. Your jealousy after seeing him save Anastasia’s life only made you see red, almost revealing yourself the true perpetrator for the obvious expressions you had displayed. Still, he chose to remain silent about your malicious actions, pretending to be oblivious to your cunning ways and dismissing any suspicions of foul play in the incident. In a way, Satoru had saved your life more than you realized. Not only that, he had also safeguarded your reputation and standing in high society without your knowledge, as he understood that your animosity towards Lady Anastasia only stemmed from the way he had interacted with her, speaking in close proximity and kissing her hand prior to the hunting game.

Ha! What a devious little viper you were. What a brazenly proud woman. By declining to meet the Crown Prince, you had only ironically succeeded in piquing his interest even more.

“Is everything in order, Your Highness?” It was his close friend and personal knight, Suguru, who snapped him out of his reverie as they rode their horses back toward the capital. Three more of the prince’s knights trailed behind them. Suguru’s question hinted at concern for the prince’s sanity, given that he had been observed laughing to himself despite the insult he had faced just half an hour ago.

“It is rather amusing, is it not?” Satoru pondered, his hands firmly gripping the reins as he guided his horse along the uneven path. “Lady Y/N might seem out of her wits, but she is astute. I see through her tactics. She obviously desires my attention, which is why she is behaving this way.”

The long-haired knight chuckled with unease. “I fear that may not be her intention.”

The notion appeared absurd to him. “Not her intention? Grant her but a moment, and she shall trail after me once more like a shadow. This is a blessing, if anything. I am now spared the need to endure that lady’s temperament during formal events.”

Did you realize? Despite numerous instances where Satoru overlooked your transgressions, if you were to provoke his ire, he could surely publicly enumerate each offense. The stained dress incident involving Lady Serena? Your handiwork. The scandalous rumors regarding Lady Franchetta? Also your doing. Not to mention your mistreatment of maids and commoners out of mere boredom. Your actions would have easily rendered you an unsuitable candidate as the Crown Prince’s bride, yet he remained silent and never reported such occurrences to his father, the emperor. More than that, he should be relieved that you had chosen to avoid him and spared him further entanglements with you.

However, Satoru’s words contradicted his own sentiments, and he refused to acknowledge his hypocrisy. Although he claimed satisfaction with your decision to keep your distance, why did thoughts of you arise foremost when he passed by a jewel shop that showcased its newest collections? He and his men were traversing the city square when his sky blue eyes caught sight of a necklace with a large, deep-red garnet as its centerpiece, surrounded by intricate gold filigrees, and a single teardrop-shaped pearl dangling at the bottom. The overall design was bold and commanding, yet undeniably elegant. A befitting accessory for Caelum’s next crown princess.

“Would you care to inspect the jewel shop, my lord?” proposed one of his knights. “That necklace could serve as a splendid gift for Lady Serena, who is soon to celebrate her birthday banquet.”

The prince saw his reflection in the shop’s window, his white steed poised gracefully while he gazed at the jewelry on display. A smirk unanticipatedly graced his lips as he envisioned a particular scenario in his head. “Indeed.”

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Milena was cinching your corset when your father abruptly entered your chamber, his visage bearing a questioning mien as his footsteps loudened each second. You already anticipated the nature of his visit, for nothing else would prompt such urgency unless it pertained to your reputation. In retrospect, you remembered him having knowledge of your misdeeds against the other debutantes currying favor with the crown prince, and he was well aware of the details of your crafty schemes and all the deliberate sabotage you had orchestrated. And although your father often covered for you out of paternal pride, he still chastised you for your actions in private. The latter assuredly was the purpose of his visit now.

Well, dear father, your daughter is no longer the same.

“Maid,” commanded the duke, “Leave us for a while.”

Milena immediately bowed at your father. “Yes, Your Grace—”

“No, Milena. You will not take a single step out of this chamber.” Your order somehow surprised the both of them as though you had never sounded so authoritative before, like you had the imperial power and position to be issuing commands greater than your father’s. Ah, right. You were not an empress anymore. Or yet. None of these people were your subjects, and living in the past would really take some time getting used to. In an effort to conceal your years of imperial presence, you looked at your father with a gaze that suggested naivety. “What is the matter, father?”

Duke de Roma appeared visibly strained by his youngest child. “Y/N, is it true that you declined a visit from Crown Prince Satoru?”

You felt the urge to scoff, but opted against it. “Rejection is an understatement, Your Grace. My interest in His Highness has simply waned.”

“So soon?” The elderly man was perplexed by your assertion, considering your reputation as a notorious obsessive lover of the prince. You were perceived by all as the erratic woman who would engage in conflict with any rival who dared to court his affections. “What sudden change prompts you to speak ill of him? Were you not striving to win his favor?"

Yes, but that was before. That was the version of yourself who sacrificed everything for someone incapable of reciprocating the love you sought. Things have altered now, and you recognized it was wiser not to pursue Satoru after knowing and personally experiencing the peril it posed to both yourself and the empire. He would only seek to exploit your family’s military influence to stage a coup against his parents, beguile you with his false affections, and make use of you until you were no longer serving him any purpose. You refused to be complicit in his ambitions any longer. Not in this life, no.

“Rather,” you began with a voice of confidence, “I would choose being in a convent than to wed a man like His Highness.”

Your father nearly fainted from your words. “By Saint Peter’s keys! I cannot understand the youth of today. Tell me, is there another suitor who has captured your interest? Have you found another man more noble than a prince?”

With a smile, you looked at yourself in the mirror and prepared for the day ahead. “No, Father. On the contrary, I seek a life of solitude. If I could remain unwed for the entirety of my days, I would gladly embrace it.”

This, you believed, was the surest way to distance yourself from trouble and seek redemption for your past transgressions. A life without Crown Prince Satoru was the road to attaining highest virtue. Your love for him was the reason you had committed such sins in the past, so the best thing to do in this life was to steer yourself clear from his path at all cost. Otherwise, the thought of facing the piercing gaze of Archangel Raphael again was too daunting to bear.

“What folly is this?” Duke de Roma questioned your words incredulously. “Did you not aspire to become the most powerful lady in the empire? Pursuing the Crown Prince is the path to becoming an empress. Cease this nonsensical talk and continue your efforts to win his favor!”

Once he departed, you were left alone in your chamber, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration. You were tempted to let out a groan of exasperation, but with Milena present, you had to maintain your composure. It was crucial for her to witness your changed mindset. Gone was the vicious lady she had served in her previous life. Though you could not offer a direct apology for the role you played in her demise before, you were determined to ensure her comfort and well-being in this new life.

As for your father, you were uncertain what to do with him yet. He was coming from a place of concern, knowing that your decision to enter a convent would ultimately make his investments futile. He had invested heavily in your upbringing, providing you with every luxury, the finest education, and the resources necessary to secure a prominent place in high society. His aspirations for you to become an empress were not solely driven by paternal pride, but also by the anticipation of reaping the rewards of his investment. Losing such an asset would undoubtedly be a significant blow to his plans and ambitions. Yet, he had no single idea what suffering you had actually endured in your past life after becoming Satoru’s wife for 10 agonizing years.

Well, in that case, you had an alternative plan—one that promised to secure the De Roma family’s status and elevate its wealth to unreachable heights without necessitating your ascent to the imperial throne.

“Milena,” you said, walking towards your window, “Prepare the carriage. We have somewhere to be.”

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“Fifty celestas?!” Milena questioned in disbelief, her hooded cloak framing her face as she confronted the artist before you. Today, both of you dressed down, adopting a guise that would allow you to blend seamlessly with the throng of commoners in the outskirts of the capital. “Signor, are you not asking for an exorbitant sum? You are exploiting My Lady merely because she is the daughter of Duke de Roma.”

It was a mistake bringing Milena with you, but it also served as a good signifier that the artist, Giancarlo di Firenze, was still operating in an era where his talent and skill as a sculptor had yet to be recognized. In the eyes of others, he was a struggling artist whose work warranted no more than a few trinkets. However, you possessed the advantage of foresight, bestowed upon you by your gift of clairvoyance (or in layman’s terms, a cheat sheet into the future due to your regression). You knew that Maestro Giancarlo’s sculptures would eventually gain widespread acclaim, particularly after they were displayed at the Veneran Museum, and he would be the most sought after artist in the continent with pieces worth thousands. Even your then-husband, the emperor himself, commissioned him for the notable Star Crossed Lovers sculpture for the ten year death anniversary of the prince and princess of the Astheryn and Caelum Empires. The 50 celestas Signor Giancarlo demanded now paled in comparison to the immense resale value his works would command in a decade’s time. This would be one of your best investments as a mere lady with no imperial wealth.

“Fifty celestas for this Apollo and Daphne sculpture seems a fair price,” you mused, scrutinizing each exquisite detail of the remarkable artwork. The sculpture was truly a masterpiece and very much deserving of admiration, which was why in your past life, it was highly coveted by The Venera for its sheer magnificence. However, you refrained from showering the Signor with excessive praise. To do so would only awaken him to the true value of his creations, and he could potentially inflate his prices beyond your budget. Thus, you maintained an air of indifference as you regarded the middle-aged sculptor. “It would make a suitable addition to our garden,” you casually added. “I shall purchase it.”

“My Lady!” protested Milena, but you silenced her with a gesture.

“In addition, I would like to acquire the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa and a selection of your cherubic sculptures,” you continued, disregarding Milena’s objections and the delighted expression on Maestro Giancarlo's face. “Pray, how much would the entire collection amount to?”

It was as if he had stumbled upon a treasure trove. The Signor’s eyes glistened with tears of joy as he responded to you. “Lady de Roma! What a blessing you have bestowed upon me,” he exclaimed, leaving you sympathetic towards his years of unacknowledged artistry. “The collection would fetch two-hundred celestas.”

Your maid, filled with concern, cried out in protest. “Preposterous! This is a swindle!”

Again, 200 celestas was a trifling sum compared to its prospective worth. Moreover, it was a price that would not significantly dent your finances as a noble lady. However, if you acquiesced to his initial offer without negotiation, he might infer that you would readily purchase any of his other works at its highest prices.

It was a simple game of chess, and he was merely one of your pawns.

“A hundred and fifty celestas,” you countered, maintaining a steely gaze on Maestro Giancarlo as you made your bargain. “Take it or leave it.”

The man voiced his objection, nonetheless. “But My Lady, I have dedicated weeks to crafting each piece.”

Being ten steps ahead, you already anticipated his response, so you offered a compromise. “Yes, yet two hundred for a handful of pieces seems excessive. I will increase it to a hundred and seventy-five. Do we have an accord?”

“But—”

“Two hundred celestas,” you declared firmly, “on the condition that you add a few more cherubim to my collection.”

In the end, he agreed to your offer with an air of triumph as if he had hit the jackpot. He penned your receipt with a sense of satisfaction, believing he had outwitted you with his inflated price when, unbeknownst to him, he had just sold pieces worth roughly two-hundred thousand celestas. The clear winner in this exchange was you, though you kept that fact strictly concealed. Your strategy to amass personal wealth would remain a secret to all, even if Milena thought you had lost your mind paying such a sum for the work of a struggling artist.

And you did not plan to stop there. Your next task was to visit Pietro De Luca, a renowned painter from your past life who had risen to prominence during your time as empress. Like the sculptor, this man was yet to achieve fame during the future period of artistic renaissance. He was the one who painted you and your husband’s infamous portrait at the palace. Unfortunately, though, luck was not on your side when you visited the painter that day, as the man had apparently journeyed to Constantia and would not return for another fortnight.

Ah, well. There would always be another opportunity.

“My Lady,” spoke Milena, standing beside you as your father’s men loaded the sculptures into the spare carriage. “I never imagined the day would come when you would take an interest in sculptures. When did you develop an eye for art?”

To tell her the truth, you cared little for its artistic merit. Your sole concern was its value and the wealth it would bring you in a decade’s time. You could never reveal that fact to Milena, so you offered an excuse instead. “They make for lovely decorations, do they not? They would certainly add to the opulence of the estate.”

Your sentence was abruptly interrupted as a pair of playing children collided with you, causing your hood to slip down and reveal your face. The mother of the children, instead of offering an apology, was too stunned to realize that you were a noblewoman from the capital. They were clearly of lower status than commoners; they were beggars, clad in tattered garments and bearing grimy faces. Your heart twinged with pity, especially upon seeing the mother cradling a baby in her arms.

A poor infant. Almost instinctively, your hand flew to your belly as memories flooded your mind of the baby you nearly had in your past life. It was Satoru’s child, the future emperor of the empire, the sole heir to the imperial Gojou lineage. Yet, he refused to acknowledge it as his own. What would have happened to your child if he had lived? The bittersweet recollection clenched at your gut.

“Please, my lady,” pleaded the impoverished woman, “Any food or clothing would be a blessing.”

To think of it, in your past life, you realized that the commoners harbored resentment towards you for your extravagant lifestyle. None of the luxuries you enjoyed as empress were shared with the masses of the Caelum Empire. They remained trapped in poverty while you reveled in comfort, completely disconnected from their reality. It was no wonder you had incurred the wrath of Goddess Fortuna and Archangel Raphael.

And now, overwhelmed by compassion, you motioned for Milena to offer 50 celestas to the woman, who graciously accepted your gift. The sum would suffice for six months' worth of food supplies. Though you wished you could give more, your wealth was not infinite as the daughter of a duke. Nevertheless, it was the gesture that mattered, was it not?

As you and Milena continued to stroll through the plaza, you could sense the incredulous glances she would cast your way. It must have been strange for her to witness your kindness towards commoners, let alone your act of charity by giving away months worth of allowance to strangers.

“Is it the tea I served you the other morning, my lady?” she inquired, concerned. “You seem to be behaving differently, as if you have transformed into a completely different person.”

In your previous life, Milena’s straightforward comments would have resulted in punishment from you. However, in this timeline, you merely chuckled with her. “Life’s too fleeting to be evil all the time.”

Like an eager puppy, she nodded enthusiastically. “Indeed, my lady. Indeed! It brings me joy to see you embracing life in a different manner.”

If only she knew the hardships you had endured in the past, molding you into someone who viewed the world through a different lens in this present time. She would have been glad to see you become an empress, but she would be horrified to know the amount of souls that died by your hands alone.

You were lost in contemplation throughout the afternoon, and you wandered aimlessly around the city, immersing yourself fully in the lives of the common folk until dusk began to descend. Just as you were about to make your way back to your carriage, a larger one passed by, adorned in white and blue with the imperial insignia proudly displayed.

Today heralded the return of Princess Savina from The Providence. She was the sister of Crown Prince Satoru and the infamous Caelum princess who had tragically perished alongside her lover, Prince Megumi of Astheryn.

Her tragic demise was also the beginning of Satoru’s descent to tyranny.

That could only mean one thing: the true story was just about to unfold.

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You felt unsettled.

Princess Savina’s return marked not only a significant turning point, but also served as a stark reminder of the events that had unfolded in your previous life. Her tragic death had set off a chain reaction of calamities. After her illicit romance with an Astherean prince was exposed, a devastating war broke out and claimed the deaths of innocent citizens. Shortly after, the prince and princess' dead bodies were discovered in the Sistine Chapel. While the conflict might have concluded with an armistice, it was also the catalyst for Satoru’s path to seizing the throne with your helping hand. It was this very moment that laid the groundwork for Satoru's eventual usurpation of the throne.

Soon after, Satoru’s ascension to power would be imminent, with you standing by his side as his chosen empress. He would eliminate every traitor you had identified, while you exacted vengeance upon those who had wronged you prior to your rise to an imperial status. Yet, despite your unwavering loyalty and dedication, Satoru never truly trusted or loved you as his wife, ultimately leading to his betrayal in the end.

How could you stand still and watch history repeat itself?

You had to have a plan. You had to devise a scheme wise enough to change the course of your life. And perhaps, befriending Savina might be the key. She might have a chance to live if her affair with the Astherean prince remained undiscovered, averting the tragic chain of events that led to her demise. That way, Satoru would not harbor the desperation to usurp his parents. He would not ask you to orchestrate a coup, and make you his pathetic empress in return. In this life, you resolved to be repulsive enough in Satoru's eyes that he would be utterly disinterested in you, even if you were the last person on Earth.

The plan seemed logical, yet simultaneously absurd. In your past life, you had strived with all your might to become Satoru's wife, yet now, you were doing everything in your power to avoid such a fate. Is this naught but a cruel game? You could not suppress a wry chuckle as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the bright moonlight casting an illuminated glow upon you. It was enchanting yet horrifying at the same time to see a faint scar encircling your neck, a grim mark that reminded you of your previous fate as a beheaded empress. You were still uncertain whether you were the only one who could see the scar, but Milena had never seemed to notice it during your bathing rituals. Perhaps the scar would only manifest as a visible reminder of sin, and would fade with virtuous deeds. Your recent act of generosity towards the beggar, however, seemed to carry no weight in mitigating your previous unethical dealings with Maestro Giancarlo. It appeared that genuine acts of kindness were only truly rewarded when performed with sincerity, while any hint of selfishness nullified their positive effects.

You acknowledged that virtuousness was not inherently ingrained within you. While avoiding marriage to Satoru was your primary objective, the prospect of a life dedicated to serving the common people was not your desired path. As long as you refrained from inflicting suffering upon others, you saw no necessity in accumulating merits through good deeds. After all, your sole task, as directed by Archangel Raphael, was to atone for your sins, not to become a paragon of virtue. You were no saint.

Three days had quickly passed since that night, and this day held a special occasion that had your heart pumping heavily the morning you woke up. Today, as accurate as your previous life, was the day of The Mass of Annunciation—a holy Catholic mass to celebrate when Archangel Gabriel appeared to the Virgin Mary and announced to her that she would conceive and give birth to the son of God, Jesus.

The grandeur of the event was undeniable, and attendance was obligatory for all noble families of Caelum, given the devout nature of the empire’s populace. Moreover, the presence of the imperial Gojou family ensured the importance of the occasion. Yet, for you, stepping into Saint Peter's Basilica once more stirred nerves as memories flooded back from your time as an empress. Now, as a 20-year-old daughter of a duke, you entered the basilica beside your brother, Aristide, whose pompous demeanor drew the gaze of all noble ladies present. After all, he was the empire’s second most eligible bachelor after Satoru himself. In your first life, your brother had wed Lady Serena, and your relationship had soured when you declared him a traitor and accused him of treachery against your then-husband. Although Satoru had spared his life, he had decreed Aristide’s eventual exile, wary of the threat posed by a brother-in-law with ambitions for the throne.

The stark contrast between your current standing and your former eminence as an empress was palpable as you made your first public appearance in high society since your regression. No longer did heads turn and knees bend at the sight of you. Instead, you were regarded as a mere noblewoman, approaching the age where marriage prospects dwindled, and whispered rumors branded you as a woman with an unsavory fixation on the crown prince. It was a humbling experience, to say the least, and a reminder of the depths to which your reputation had fallen.

Despite no longer holding the title of empress, you spared no effort in your attire. You carried yourself with the same regal air, a testament to your upbringing and the lavish lifestyle afforded by your father. Your family not only produced the bravest knights, but also supported a prosperous weaponry business, which reflected your ostentatious way of life. That was why you had the means to wear a sumptuous gown of rich burgundy brocade, intricately woven with gold thread and adorned with delicate floral embroidery. You made certain that the modest neckline gracefully covered your neck to hide your revolting scar, while layers of sheer chiffon formed a voluminous skirt that cascades to your feet. Your hair was secured in a crespine, a delicate net-like veil adorned with lustrous pearls and sparkling gemstones, while around your neck hung a simple yet elegant silver cross pendant to add a touch of reverence.

In your eyes, you considered yourself a modest and conservative lady who was hesitant to reveal too much skin. However, your brother found it laughable, jesting that you might as well become a nun given how covered your chest and neckline were. He remarked that it was unusual for you to dress in such a reserved manner, as you had previously taken the initiative to wear attire that would attract Satoru’s manly gaze.

“Announcing the arrival of His and Her Imperial Highness, followed by His and Her Imperial Majesties—the luminaries of our empire.”

As the imperial family arrived at the basilica, a hushed anticipation suddenly fell over the gathered crowd. The air was filled with a palpable sense of reverence and awe as the imposing façade of the basilica welcomed the presence of the empire’s highest authority.

First to enter were Princess Savina and Crown Prince Satoru, the heir and heiress to the throne, their regal presence commanding attention as they made their way down the grand procession. Princess Savina was resplendent in a gown of shimmering silk and a coronet as her headdress, while there he came… Your then-husband. Your ex-lover. Your betrayer. Crown Prince Satoru, clad in a tailored doublet of rich blue velvet, projecting an air of quiet strength and authority as he stared straight ahead towards the altar like he did in your past life. You had almost forgotten how princely handsome he was when he was younger, and you could not stop your frenzied heart as you felt somersaults in your stomach. No, you must not! It was all in the mind. It was all a matter of mind games, and this might be the first time you had seen Satoru again in real life after your regression, but he was still a man who had ordered to kill you. You should never be fooled by his luscious white hair and sky blue eyes.

“In love?” whispered your brother, a smirk visible on his face.

“Out of love,” you corrected and remained resolute in your goal not to get swayed by Satoru’s charm again. “I feel not a single thing.”

Aristide scoffed at that. “Yet your eyes shine at the sight of him?”

As the imperial siblings took their places at the head of the procession, the assembled congregation bowed their heads in deference as the imperial family proceeded to their seats and their every movement watched with rapt attention by the gathered nobility. Following closely behind were the Emperor and Empress, the reigning monarchs of the empire, their presence heralded by the sound of trumpets and the swell of sacred music.

You chose not to bicker with your brother throughout the holy mass, although there were times you were tempted to cuss him out. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, ridiculing your attire and insisting that Satoru would never pay you any attention. He took great pleasure in reminding you of the prince’s supposed revulsion towards your obsession, when little did your foolish brother know, you would be glad if that was in fact true.

And the ironic thing was, in your previous life, you had done Aristide a great favor by marrying Satoru. This freed up Lady Serena for marriage, despite her supposed status as the crown prince’s favorite. You used to despise Serena out of sheer jealousy, while Aristide had always desired her, which was why your brother had urged you to win Satoru's affections to pave the way for him to marry the lady he so coveted.

In this life, you decided not to interfere in any potential relationship between Satoru and Serena, regardless of your brother’s wishes. You acknowledged that Serena would make a far superior empress than yourself, as she possessed enough empathy in her to prioritize the welfare of her people and avoid endangering them. She was not the type of person who would willingly bring about the destruction of an entire nation, nor would she welcome the spread of plague out of mere vengeance against her husband.

With Satoru out of your plans, Savina then came into the picture. You had to speak and get close to her—close enough for her to trust you and befriend you, but not attached enough for you to act like her older sister. You would only be here to guide her and avoid her from the path of her downfall in order to save yourself. Savina was the key.

Savina… Savina would be the one to save you in this life. Savina was your only hope.

As the mass concluded, some of the nobles began to disperse, while others congregated in a corner to converse with the Archbishop. Your sole intention at that moment was to approach Savina, allowing your feet to lead you to the direction of where she was. But just before you reached her, you stumbled upon a very significant individual who had played a pivotal role in bringing about your suffering in your previous life.

It was none other than Satoru’s advisor, Lord Maximillian.

“Lady Y/N, it is a delight to see you,” the man greeted, but you could see right through him. He never liked you now and in the past. In fact, his hatred stemmed from his peculiar fixation towards the imperial family. He may look younger presently, but he was still an old and rotten base-born cur.

Maximilian was the one responsible for introducing Satoru to the prophecy, and he was also the individual who whispered your demise into your husband's ears. Given his role in your past suffering, why should you afford him any respect?

“It is rather surprising you had not burned inside the church,” you remarked acerbically, eliciting widened eyes from the nobleman. “Yet it does beg the question, Lord Maximilian, what brings a heretic like yourself inside a Catholic church?”

Within the confines of the basilica, or at least the space surrounding you, a variety of reactions unfolded. A noble lady shot you a disapproving stare for your perceived rudeness towards a man of higher nobility, while your brother regarded you with a mixture of astonishment and concern as if you had gone mad. Conversely, a young nobleman appeared impressed by your audacity.

As for Maximilian, it was rather amusing to observe the crimson hue that spread across his face. You anticipated his retort and braced yourself for his comeback. “Why, you foul-mouthed wench!” he exclaimed, his voice laden with indignation. “Who do you think you are speaking to?!”

You grinned triumphantly at your success in offending him. “You should be ashamed to show yourself in front of God—” you began, relishing the opportunity to further provoke him, but was cut short when a formidable presence appeared before you.

The arctic white hair, the crystal blue eyes, the smooth ivory skin, the towering build from years of training…

“Your Highness,” Maximilian immediately curtsied before the prince, while you remained frozen in place. Like a statue. “Your Highness, this young lady is preposterous!”

On one hand, Satoru’s eyes bathed in humor as he observed the interaction between you and Maximilian. This was the first time you two had faced each other since the regression, and the emotions stirred within you were still raw. You were husband and wife when you last saw each other. You could still remember the last time you saw him the night before your execution, when he visited you in the West Tower and asked you to live a solitary life in the countryside as his mistress. Your heart seemed to constrict in your chest, yet simultaneously, it pounded loudly with anticipation.

“Max, it seems the lady has labeled you a heretic,” the Crown Prince remarked, his gaze unwavering as he focused on you. “Can you substantiate your accusations, Lady Y/N?” he inquired, prompting you to defend your claims.

Satoru, you fool. If you were to reveal what happened in your previous life, he would be an accomplice to the crime. He carried the highest position in the empire at the time, yet he was a supporter of heresy himself. That alone would have brought him into Inquisition.

You could not think straight. Oh for heaven’s sake! You could not focus. Could not breathe. Could not speak. Your thoughts were flooded by memories of your past life; of Satoru claiming you were useless for being barren, of him refusing to acknowledge your child, of him planning to wed another woman after the years you had devoted to him, of him ruthlessly ordering your execution.

Of him never saying he loved you.

Before you realized it, tears welled up in your eyes. You were utterly unprepared to encounter him today, let alone engage in conversation, especially while the wounds from your past were still so raw. Some wounds had yet to heal, and the mere sight of him brought them flooding back.

And with your unexpected reaction, his expression softened and morphed into one of genuine concern. Why? Why was he suddenly concerned now when he spent years of being an ungrateful husband? His smile had long vanished, replaced by a look of worry after seeing you on the verge of breaking down. However, before the tears could spill, you turned and fled, unable to bear the thought of crying in front of a man like him.

“Hold on, Lady Y/N—!”

His voice called out to you, but you refused to look back. No, you were determined to only keep moving forward, to distance yourself from the man who had caused you so much pain. Therefore, you hastily fled the basilica, seeking solace amidst the throng of nobles who were crowding outside.

As you ran, tears streamed down your face unchecked, yet you let it be. The ache in your heart was unbearable, knowing that the man you had once loved so deeply now had the power to hurt you all over again. Only when you found a secluded spot beneath a stone pine tree did you collapse, clutching your chest as you recalled the face of the man who had caused you so much anguish.

I despise you, Satoru.

“How could you betray me like that?” you murmured, tears staining your cheeks as you sobbed beneath the tree, feeling utterly pathetic.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over you, and as you looked up, you saw a man with dark hair clad in shining armor. His smile was gentle as he approached and crouched down beside you.

“My lady.” It was the Knight Commander, Yuuta, offering you his handkerchief. “Is everything alright?”

#series: lltv #satoru gojou x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader

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cherryandsugar · 2 months

Text

Blame

Pairing: Astarion x f!Reader/Tav

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

WC: 2,313

Warnings: set in Act 3 (minor spoilers), reader is referred to as Tav exactly twice, reader is smaller than Karlach, POV changes, major character injury, blood, mentions of death, angst with a happy ending :)

Summary: A grievous injury leaves Tav incapacitated, and as the party struggles to heal her, Astarion blames himself for her pain.

~~~

Blood, smoke, and ash coat your throat as your breath heaves. The battle around you rages on, your companions facing off against the Banite chemists of Felogyr’s Fireworks. A stray firebolt had ignited the nearby smokepowder, setting off a chain reaction that shook the building and singed the very air. The blast hadn’t taken you down, nor had it eliminated all your foes.

The clashing of Lae’zel’s blades and Karlach’s war cry fills your ears. Hidden somewhere in the rubble, Astarion picks off enemies one by one with well timed sneak attacks. And you? You stand in the center of it all, ducking and dodging as two of the heavily armored Banites take turns swinging their weapons at you.

You retaliate as best as you can, but your strikes seem to bounce off their armor harmlessly. They advance on you, forcing you to back away, further from your friends. One, wielding a mace, raises his weapon to strike and catches your arm. The crushing weight of his blow has you scrambling backwards, taking your eyes off your foes for a brief moment to check behind you.

In that split second, an arrow flies over your head and burrows itself into the throat of the man who struck you. He chokes on his own blood for a moment, before crumbling to the ground. Dead.

As you face your remaining foe, you adjust your grip on your short sword to favor your injured arm and make a mental note to thank Astarion for having your back when this is over.

No longer on the defensive, you swing your sword upward, aiming for the Banite’s neck. He deflects with his longsword, before swiping down at your abdomen. His blade brushes against your leather armor before he reels back to swing again. Before he can bring his arms down, he freezes, wobbling on unsteady feet before joining his comrade on the floor, Karlach’s battle ax sticking out of his back.

She rushes over from where she’d thrown her weapon, the battle seemingly over, to pry it from the corpse before she stops in front of you.

“You alright, soldier?” her brows crease as she asks.

You gasp, still catching your breath as adrenaline courses through you, “Yeah. Thanks,” you respond with a grateful smile.

“You sure? That doesn’t look—“ she’s cut off as Astarion rushes over from behind you.

“Darling, where are you hurt?” his voice is rushed. He grabs your shoulders and turns you to face him, crimson eyes scanning your face for any sign of pain.

You smile at his concern, always looking out for you, “I’m fine, love. Are you alright?” you ask as you raise your hand to cup his cheek, your breath calming as the rush of battle fades. But Astarion does not look calm. His eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth is set in a grim frown as his eyes continue their search.

He ignores your question.

“Don’t be ridiculous, darling, I can smell it,” he casts his eyes downward, continuing his search. His eyes widen as they take you in, any color in his pale face drains. You follow his line of sight. You see it before you feel it. Blood.

At once, the adrenaline high you’d been riding vanishes. The leather of your armor, just over your abdomen has been shredded, blood oozes from beneath it, soaking your underclothes and dripping out onto the floor. You can only imagine what your flesh looks like beneath the mess. Your head spins and your vision blurs before the pain rushes to greet you, the force of it knocking your knees out from under you.

As you collapse, your three companions jump into action. Astarion, with wide eyes and frantic movements grabs you by the arms and gently lowers you to the floor, settling your head on his lap as he kneels beside you. Karlach digs through the pack, searching for anything that might help you as Lae’zel rushes to stabilize your wound.

You writhe in agony as she applies a cruel pressure to your stomach, gasping for air as Astarion reaches to hold your hand. You squeeze as the pain shoots through you, burning and searing hotter than any fire. His face hovers over yours, a blurry mess of white and red before you squeeze your eyes shut against the pain.

“Hey, hey. Focus on me, right here love,” he tries desperately to keep your attention as he brushes your hair away from your eyes. As if he can sense you nodding off, he looks up, “Karlach, we need a potion, a spell— something.”

She shuffles around behind him, practically dumping all of your supplies out before shouting, “We only have one, we need to get her back to camp.” She sounds panicked, passing Astarion the lone potion of healing.

He curses under his breath, turning back to you. You blink slowly, mumbling deliriously through your pain, “Sorry… Star, love you,” He shushes you as he lifts your head to pour the potion down your throat, tender in his panic. You swallow greedily, looking back up to him, focusing on his eyes. Those deep scarlet eyes which usually hold so much love are now filled with fear.

“Pretty,” you sigh, before darkness creeps along the edge of your vision and finally engulfs you.

…

Astarion is stunned for a moment.

“Tav?” he whispers, nudging your shoulder. When you don’t respond he turns around, shouting this time, “Karlach!”

“On it, Fangs,” she resolves, abandoning the pile of loot she’d scattered in her mad search for a healing potion. She kneels next to your immobile form, gently lifting you from under your knees and back, carefully positioning your head to rest on her shoulder.

Lae’zel backs away from your body, releasing the pressure she kept on your wound with a hiss, “Tsk’va! We must hurry, she’s lost too much blood.”

Astarion stares blankly at the puddle you’ve left behind– far too big for the amount of time you spent laying there as Karlach makes toward the stairs, disappearing around the corner. The only thing running through his mind is you. Your gasps of pain, your slowing heartbeat, the light in your eyes.

Before he can dive too deep into despair, Lae’zel is shaking him by the shoulders, “Snap out of it! You’re useless here, we must follow Karlach and get her back safely. Come!” she orders as she stands to leave. Her command awakens something within him, something accustomed to following orders. He stands, and dashes to catch up with Karlach and Lae’zel, both of whom had already made their way out to the city streets.

Karlach was jogging as quickly as she could without jostling you too much, and Lae’zel took a defensive position close behind her, ready to strike should someone dare to intercept them as they made their way to the Elfsong. He follows close behind, tears gathering in his eyes and blood rushing in his ears, and he realizes it’s your blood pumping through him.

He’d fed on you last night, and now you’d been hurt. Maybe if he had been able to control himself, if he wasn’t such a horrific, bloodsucking monster, you would have fought better, moved faster… This was his fault.

The only person he’d ever loved, on death’s door because of him. He didn’t notice when the tears began to fall, but once they started there was no stopping them. Lae’zel glanced over at him as the group passed the Baldur’s Mouth and cursed, “Chk! Astarion, run ahead. Tell Shadowheart to get ready. Now!”

Another command. He rushed ahead, almost instinctively, to obey, running as fast as his legs would carry him. When he finally climbed the stairs and burst through the doors he made a beeline for Shadowheart’s bunk. She was reading when he barged in on her. She glanced up, dropping the book when she took in his appearance: blood splattered on his hands and face, eyes wild, and panting from his sprint.

“Tav. Hurt,” he gasped, “No more potions.”

A steely expression overtook her features and she gave a curt nod, understanding what was needed. She led the way back to their common area as Lae’zel slammed the doors open, making way for Karlach to bring you in.

His breath hitched. You looked so fragile, so small in Karlach’s arms. The shaky rise and fall of your chest was his only comfort as he listened for your heartbeat. Slow, but still beating.

Karlach and Shadowheart kneel down, right there in the doorway to get to work, unwilling to waste precious moments moving you to a bed. The others gather nearby, worry marring their faces as they look on. As Shadowheart begins her healing incantations Gale places a gentle hand on Astarion’s shoulder.

“Come on, my friend. Staring won’t help her now. Why don’t you get cleaned up so you can care for her properly when she wakes?”

Astarion knows he is trying to distract him, trying to remove him from the situation should something go wrong, but he can’t find the energy to resist. He nods his head absentmindedly and allows Gale to lead him away.

…

It’s dark when you wake, and it takes a moment for you to assess your surroundings. Your head pounds, a splitting headache causing you to groan, the sound catching on your dry throat. Before you can sit up, a hand tightens its already-present grip on your own. You look to your side and see the disheveled form of your love.

“Star?” you croak, “What happened?” He swallows thickly, before taking a deep breath and moving his seat closer to your bedside.

“You almost died,” his voice breaks on the final word, you can hear the tears in his voice, but you wait for him to continue, “Bastard nearly split you open, it took everything Shadowheart had to keep you alive.” And you faintly feel what remains of the wound that nearly ended you. It’s a dull ache, nowhere near as debilitating as before.

Your breath catches, “Gods,” you whisper, “The others? Are they alright?”

He quells your rising panic before it can take root, “They’re fine, love. Don’t worry about them, worry about yourself for once. How do you feel?”

‘My head hurts…” you whisper. He lets go of your hand for a moment, turning in the dark to retrieve something. When he faces you again, his hand cradles the back of your neck as the other raises a glass of water to your lips.

“Drink darling, this will help.”

The water soothes your sore throat as it passes your lips. When you finish, Astarion sets the glass on your bedside table and takes your hand back into his own, “Shadowheart will be back in the morning once she’s recovered, and Gale is brewing more healing potions than we’ll ever need. This will never happen again.” His hand squeezes your own with his promise.

You nod at his declaration, as if the sheer power of his will could prevent you from falling wounded.

“How long have I been asleep?” you venture.

“Just a few hours,” he whispers, reaching to brush his hand over your forehead. Whether it was to clear any hair from your eyes or simply to touch you as much as possible– you couldn’t tell.

“Will you lay with me?”

“Darling, I thought you’d never ask,” he breathed, as if he was trying to cover his relief with that familiar self-assured persona, but couldn’t quite mask it. Carefully, he helped you shift over on the bed to make room for him. He crawled under the covers to join you, guiding you to rest your head on his chest. His arm wrapped firmly, yet gently, around your waist. You grasped at his shirt to ground yourself in the moment. You are here, you are safe.

His other hand came up to cover your own on his chest, thumb rubbing the back of your hand softly, and you sighed into him as you shuffled ever closer. His cool temperature soothed your lingering aches as your body heat sunk into him.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” you whispered into the dark. His hold around you tightened for but a moment at your admission.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he hushed back, “I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath, “I should have given you more cover fire, you were outnumbered. I shouldn’t have fed from you the night before a battle. I should have had a bloody potion to save you… It’s my fault you got hurt,” he confessed.

“Oh, my love,” you breathed, “It’s not your fault. It could never be your fault. It was just bad luck, please don’t do this to yourself,” you clutched his shirt as his breath hitched beneath you.

“Astarion listen to me,” your voice was stern, yet soft, “No one had healing supplies, it was not your responsibility alone. And I feed you because I love you and can’t stand the thought of you going hungry. It’s my decision, my choice, and my fault. Don’t you dare blame yourself for today.”

You felt him nod above you, silently agreeing with your conviction. He took a moment to compose himself, the day’s events overwhelming him at your insistent tone.

“I love you too,” he whispered, leaning down to plant a kiss on the crown of your head. You sighed in relief, melting into his embrace. “Now get some sleep darling, you’re much too assertive for the day you’ve had.”

You huff a soft laugh, glad to see a sliver of his charm shine through. But he’s right, your outburst did little to stave off the ache in your bones. You settle against Astarion, content to sleep in his hold, knowing that whatever the next day brings he will be right there beside you.

---

Author's Notes: So I've never actually published a fic before. I've been reblogging/lurking from this page for like two years. I've been writing since I was young, but I never finish anything. Who knows, maybe I'll keep going. Let me know what you thought (critique greatly appreciated) and if you made it this far thank you so much I hope you enjoyed!!! :)

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #astarion x you #astarion angst #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #cherry's writing #my work

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marsprincess889 · 15 days

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Basic themes of nakshatras

May edit this later, this is as far as I understand and have observed them, and I think it's pretty nice to see them simply.

Ashwini:

Newness, freshness, the unmanifest, speed, energy, vitality, instinct, healing, fast healing, unlimited energy, self-expression, selfishness, blocking outside noise, trusting yourself, self-empowerment, unfiltered actions.

Things that remind me of Ashwini: bees, the sun, horses, two white horses, golden deserts, horses gallopping, honey, long hair flying in the wind, apples.

Bharani:

Love, death, sex, the female, the feminine, limitations, the material, fate, destiny, coming into the body, struggling against limitations, struggling against fate, mind trapped in its own hell because of the inevitable, dealing with the harshness of life, harshness of mothers and mother nature, the hierarchy, privileges and deprivations, desire, going after your true desire, the immortality of the soul, adapting to changes, passion, tragic love, bravery, facing the truth, choicelessness, nessecity, revenge, violence, gatekeeping, reduction, denial of access, conquering your fate, everlasting beauty.

Things that remind me of Bharani: hot pink and black, darkness, roses, the yoni, gateways, keyholes, caverns, boats, rivers, the damsel in distress, fantasy, high fantasy.

Krittika:

Adam, the main character, naming things, language, rationality, precision, sharpness, criticism, the poet, the "it" person, simplicity, cleanliness, expressing oneself, selectivity, the heat, the knowledge, the light, masculine ideals, stoicism, selectivity.

Things that remind me of Krittika: knives, razors, lighers, sparks, fire, hearth, cooking.

Rohini:

Eve, sugar babies, growth, receptivity, enjoyment, pleasure, unrefined, doted on, subconcious, absorbtion, sharing, union, creation, the youngest daughter, naivete, feeling no shame.

Things that remind me of Rohini: sugar, stickiness, sweetness, heaviness, red, pink, flowers, the A.I(lol).

Mrigashira:

Distraction, realization, fickleness, adventure, running away, chasing, the hunt, excitement, softness, pleasure, altering conciousness, magic substances(iykwim), curiosity, fulfillment, insatiability, teasing.

Things that remind me of Mrigashira: silver threads, deer, green forests, green and blue, running in the woods, alcohol, the moon.

Ardra:

Disillusion, crying, lamenting, awareness of others, awarness of other's expectations, hyper-awarness of everything, intellect, the rational mind, pressures from society, rebelling against society, anxiety.

Things that remind me of Ardra: tears, water, storms, technology, teenage angst, emo culture, the rain, sad songs, dogs.

Punarvasu:

Mercy, forgiveness, permission, freedom, flying, expansion, gentleness, regrowing, realigning, returning, home, unconditional love and nurture, celebration, peace, peacefulness, centering oneself, sunlight, warmth, fostering, taking care, being taken care of, luck, unlimited fertile space, shelter, genuine kindness, believing in humanity again, cycles, patterns, seeing the cycles and the patterns, predicting future, openness, second (and third, fouth...) chances, a comeback.

Things that remind me of Punarvasu: staying at home, pets, plants, cats, gentle rain, a bow and arrows, a target.

Pushya:

Asceticism, routines, self-restraint, servitude, control, self-control, working, working on yourself, patience, simplicity, striving for perfection, nurturing, nourishment, quiet ambition.

Things that remind me of Pushya: milk, milkmaids, country life, milking, symmetry, goats, sheep.

Ashlesha:

Manipulation, abuse, poison, emotional abuse, blackmail, resorting to everything for safety, protection, pent up energy, the nervous system, purity, water, sensitivity, cleanliness, energetic build-up, tension, restraint, preservation, self-preservation, virginity, feminine tactics, being "mean" for protection, lying for safety, sensuality, mother issues, agitation.

Things that remind me of Ashlesha: the color white, transparent things, cats, poisoning, snow white, Sofia Coppola films, teenage girlhood, ties, strings, knots, snakes.

Magha:

Royalty, power, ancestry, family trees, history, the past, regality, honoring the past, honoring the elders, honoring the authority, religion, traditions, customs, confidence, ego.

Things that remind me of Magha: crowns, thrones, churches, goth culture, the smoke.

Purva Phalguni:

Pleasure, enjoyment, being spoiled as the feminine, loving to spoil as the masculine, procreation, sex, leisure, art, holidays, parties, exclusivity, pride, charisma, sexual dispersion, love as a method of self-expression, admiration, directness, active pursuit of your passions.

Things that remind me of Purva Phalguni: fruits, eating fruits topless, rose gold color, the "rizz"(lol), the phallus, dramaticism.

Uttara Phalguni:

Favors from friends, family and partners, contracts, beneficial agreements, the perfect wife, likeability, popularity, friendliness, appearing cool, stoicism, beneficial arrangements, gaining power through partnerships, self-expression through relationships.

Things that remind me of Uttara Phalguni: the "chads", simplicity, genuine friends, loyal companions, the perfect male stereotype.

Hasta:

The earth, the veiled feminine, manipulation, denial of access, materialism, cheating, everyday matters, empowerment of women, deception, skill, seeking knowledge, wanting to be in control, activism, street-smarts, manipulation of masses.

Things that remind me of Hasta: the hand, Goddess Persephone, skilled hands, thieves, easy money, fairies, witches.

Chitra:

Crafting, building, perspective, truth, law, gems, sacrifice for your craft, vanity, stereotypes, aesthetics, the truth in stereotypes, building based on the law and the truth, the surface of things, the appearance of things, the substance reflected in the vessel, gossip, cliques.

Things that remind me of Chitra: the god Hephestos, martian gods in general, jewelry, fashion, make-up, drama, pettiness, the coquette aesthetic, pranksters, Olivia Rodrigo(ig).

Swati:

Space, the cosmos, shifting realities, love, rebellion, alternate realities, possibilities, seeing beauty in everything, inspiration, art, the cosmic egg, creation of the world, creation of worlds, microcosm and macrocosm, freedom through love.

Things that remind me of Swati: video games, the wind, plants beggining to sprout, the sword, technology.

Vishakha:

The lightning, snapping, splitting, joining opposites, compromise, marriage, repressed anger, repressed aggression, alter egos, passion, enthusiasm, standing up for yourself and others, repression and then expression, energy, love and hate.

Things that remind me of Vishakha: lighning bolts, Zeus, Thor and other lighning gods, superhero "Shazam", celebrations.

Anuradha:

Friendship, devotion, depth, loyalty, unconditional loyalty, bonds, the occult, sex with love, numbers, gatherings, friend groups, groups, gentleness, humbleness, discipline, seriousness, organizing society, social groups.

Things that remind me of Anuradha: the color burgundy, dim lights, bunnies, "Sex Education" (tv show), sci-fi (for some reason), "The Vampire Diaries" (and very similar teen shows), frat boys, cheerleaders.

Jyeshta:

The battlefield, war, hunger, thirst, insatiability, conquering, the underdog, street-smarts, competition, strategy, extreme independence, mind games, the art of war, survival, ruling, rising above, self-reliance, wisdom, becoming the authority, the eldest, dryness, trust issues, enemies, destroying enemies, outsmarting all enemies.

Things that remind me of Jyeshta: grandmothers, owls, eagles, dry places, flags, marching, chess.

Mula:

Horror, the abnormal, the truth, the core, the center, the absorbing darkness, the black hole, the roots, violence against falsehoods, seeking the truth, seeking the cause, seeking roots, uprooting, chaos, from chaos to order, the unchanging truth, taming beasts, holding to your truth.

Things that remind me of Mula: "Phanton of the Opera", "Twilight", final girls, horror movies, dark murky green, the wilderness.

Purva Ashadha:

Art, beauty, alliances, artistry, ideals, fighting for the ideal, discrimination, exclusivity, philosophies about beauty and art, passion for love and art, attachments, secrecy, luxury, vitality, vigor, going for victory.

Things that remind me of Purva Ashadha: the sea, seafoam, goddess Aphrodite, seashells, mermaids, sirens, fans (the ones you hold in your hand lol), Arwen from LotR.

Uttara Ashadha:

Victory, loneliness, individuality, government, empowerment, independence, being looked up to, composed self-expression, ease, simplicity but regality, confidence, self-assuredness, melancholy and hardships of aloneness but contentment, stoicism, invincibility, unapologetic behavior.

Things that remind me of Uttara Ashadha: earnest people, goddess Nike.

Shravana:

Connecting everything, secret knowledge, interest in everything, reading between the lines, subconcious access, extreme sensitivity, holding the humanity together, secret agencies, percieving what others can't percieve, saving humanity, navigating, receptivity, mysticism.

Things that remind me of Shravana: Superman, Geralt of Rivia, Aragorn, King arthur, pathways, footprints, ear, color blue, spies, astrology, outcasts, fringe societies.

Dhanishta:

Celebration, celebrities, fame, visibility, aggression, agitation, action, bringing people together, idols, propaganda, wealth from fame, that which attracts attention, public image, benefits and downsides of fame, openness and flashiness, branding.

Things that remind me of Dhanishta: supermodels, Princess Diana, dancing, rhythmic drums.

Shatabhisha:

Complexities, seeing everything, lurking in shadows, holding the knowledge, secrets, secrecy, hiding, technology, innovation, being ahead of your time, advising but manipulating, society, the collective, trends, the conciousness of masses.

Things that remind me of Shatabhisha: midnight sky, stars, the seas, water reservoirs, the circle, the all-seeing eye of Sauron(lol), Lord of the Rings, rings, the movie "Stardust" (the book too).

Purva Bhadrapada:

Notoriety, expansion, uncontrolled expansion, persmissiveness, growth to ruin unless restrained, fighting for your soul, the scapegoat, going against society, getting tested, the point of no return.

Things that remind me of Purva Bhadrapada: gangs, famous criminals, laziness, femme fatales, the grotesque, deserts, werewolves, the black sheep.

Uttara Bhadrapada:

Finding grace, hardships, working, inner strength, steeliness, resilience, patience, restraint, contol, self-restraint and self-control, bravery, honesty, stubbornness, fighting for your truth, perfect control, freedom through limitations, seeking a permanent foundation built on truth, working for the foundation, long-term goals, innocence, purity of soul, stillness, refinement.

Things that remind me of Uttara Bhadrapada: butterflies, clouds, baby blue color, Cinderella, warriors, knights, ice, coldness, queens, ice-queen, dragons, water dragons, deep waters.

Revati:

Ultimate freedom, creativity, wisdom, gentleness, compassion, guiding, herding, fun, laughter, mischief, lightnness, ease, finding peace, reaching the end, enjoying what you have, contentment, nurturing, open-mindedness, conclusions, gratefulness, freedom and free will, having choices, diversity, finding the truth, true wealth.

Things that remind me of Revati: shepherds, everything easy and light, the tricksters, the fool, jokes, Loki, The Joker, fish, comedy, the movie "A Fish Called Wanda", caring for everyone and everything.

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nyoomerr · 2 months

Note

SY as a disciple on another peak? It's just very amusing to imagine LBH desperately scrabbling to get onto THAT peak, clearly there's been some sort of MISTAKE, he's supposed to be over there!!

lbh would just keep showing up like a stray dog, lmao. here's some qian cao peak disciple!sy taking care of little binghe!

---

As a reader, Shen Yuan had been under the impression that everyone knew about Luo Binghe nearly immediately. Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge fought over him at the disciple selection, only for Shen Qingqiu to treat the poor bun like shit, thereby causing a whole separate fuss as Yue Qingyuan unjustly defended the abusive actions of his scum shidi. That sort of thing was basically begging to be treated like hot gossip - surely, in a sect full of teenagers, news of Luo Binghe would travel nearly as quickly as he arrived on the peak!

So why is it, exactly, that the first Shen Yuan hears about Luo Binghe is the demon invasion that takes place years after Luo Binghe’s arrival?!

Was there no gossip after all? Are Qian Cao disciples really that busy that they don’t hear the gossip?! No, no - Qian Cao would obviously get the most gossip; every other peak visits Qian Cao regularly, and half of them end up high on pain meds while here, unable to filter most of their thoughts! If there had been gossip about Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan would have heard it first! He had been listening the hardest!!

In front of him, Luo Binghe shifts awkwardly. “Um, Shixiong…”

Shen Yuan feels like he’s been struck by an arrow.

Ah! Shixiong!! He called me ‘Shixiong’!! Luo Binghe’s Shixiong!! I could be Luo Binghe’s Shixiong!!!!! …Wait, no, the seniority of the peaks -

“Shixiong, is something wrong?” Luo Binghe asks hesitantly.

A second arrow!!! Shen Yuan is going to keel over and die, right here in the middle of the medicinal peak, because Luo Binghe keeps calling him ‘Shixiong’!!!

“Of course not,” Shen Yuan says, before gathering all his strength to tack on: “Shidi.”

Fuck the seniority of the peaks, to be this golden bun’s Shixiong is to ascend early!!

“Oh,” Luo Binghe says. He shifts again, looking around the small triage room they’re in.

The triage room he’d been directed to because he’d just finished fighting an unfair battle against a demon elder. Right. That triage room.

Shen Yuan clears his throat, smiles awkwardly, clears his throat again, and promptly begins treatment. The best pain medicine Qian Cao offers, the most expensive healing ointments, a tincture for general strength and wellness, a tea for good sleep - so what if Shen Yuan has to pull some of these things out of his personal stores? That’s Luo Binghe, and he’s bearing far more injuries than those that came from his battle with the demon!

He does his best to keep up friendly chatter the whole time, too - asking after Luo Binghe’s studies, backpedaling immediately and telling him what a good patient he is, asking after Luo Binghe’s friends, backpedaling again and telling him what a sweet boy he is -

Normal bedside manner. Shen Yuan is very good at that sort of thing, as a senior disciple of Qian Cao.

Unfortunately, Shen Yuan eventually runs out of injuries to treat. He very badly wishes there was some sort of medical sanctions he could pull out of his ass to keep Luo Binghe on Qian Cao - something about the injuries on his back looking more like whip lashes than normal training injuries or wounds from the demonic invasion, something about the injuries looking like abuse - but Shen Yuan already knows there isn’t.

Only the peak lord could pull that sort of authority over Luo Binghe’s own Shizun; if Shen Yuan tried to do anything himself he’d end up in a diplomatic battle over it.

In the end, all he can do is pat Luo Binghe’s head a few times (and then a few times more, his hair is so soft now that Shen Yuan has carefully washed it out under the pretense of medical necessity for cleanliness!) and send him on his way.

Still, Shen Yuan cannot tolerate letting Luo Binghe suffer on Qing Jing, now that he knows Luo Binghe is there. He’ll have to find some excuses to run errands over there, or -

“Shixiong,” Luo Binghe calls from outside the disciple halls, looking shyly over at Shen Yuan.

Or, Shen Yuan thinks, more than a bit surprised, Luo Binghe will just show up for treatment on his own…?

Shen Yuan scrambles over to Luo Binghe, gently patting his head and turning his face this way and that and carefully running his hands over his shoulders, trying to figure out what’s wrong.

“Ah, Binghe, did I miss something yesterday? Shit - I mean, uh, shoot, you’re too young and cute to be cursing just yet, you hear me?”

Luo Binghe nods obediently, then shakes his head. “Shixiong didn’t miss anything,” he clarifies.

“Oh, good,” Shen Yuan says, letting go of some of the tension in his shoulders.

Shen Yuan of course put his best foot forward when treating Luo Binghe the other day, but he isn’t the peak’s best healer - he’d chosen Qian Cao to study poisons and rare flora and spiritual plants, not actual healing. He’d only been helping treat patients the day of the demonic invasion because half their best healers were missing!

“If Binghe’s alright, what can this -” Shen Yuan breathes deep, savors the feeling, “- this Shixiong do for you?”

Luo Binghe glances up at him shyly, big wet eyes peeking out from long lashes. Ah, the pinnacle of perfection, for a cute little boy!!

“I… tripped,” Luo Binghe says hesitantly.

Shen Yuan blinks down at Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe swallows thickly.

“On my back,” he adds. “And bruised it like - like the bruises Shixiong treated yesterday.”

“Bruises,” Shen Yuan echoes incredulously, which he thinks is a rather restrained response to hearing the sweet baby protagonist talk about lash marks as if they were mere bruises.

Luo Binghe nods, still looking up at Shen Yuan pleadingly. Shen Yuan sighs; it’s better to be able to treat Luo Binghe’s injuries than not to, even if Luo Binghe himself is going to downplay them even as he asks for help.

The Luo Binghe of Proud Immortal Demon Way had never asked for help from Qian Cao, now that Shen Yuan thinks about it.

…After he’s taken care of Luo Binghe, he’s going to figure out which disciple would’ve treated Luo Binghe in the original, and he’s going to put chili powder in all his tea, ah!!

---

Luo Binghe keeps coming back. Small injuries, larger ones, keening whines about how Shixiong, I’m scared of qi deviations, please help me cultivate safely!!

Shen Yuan is torn between feeling relieved that Luo Binghe has found a Shixiong (Shixiong!!) that he feels he can trust, and feeling absolutely terrified of Luo Binghe’s general health. The original Luo Binghe of PIDW had never felt this worried, he was never in so much pain over simple scrapes! Had Shen Yuan’s doting somehow turned the protagonist’s bones to glass??

Regardless, Luo Binghe spends more and more time on Qian Cao. He even shows up to some of the lessons Shen Yuan teaches, which - protagonist, you don’t need to know healing!! Your blood will do it for you, eventually! When that fails, a large-bosomed woman will take care of you!!

“I can’t help but feel bad for how often I bother Shixiong,” Luo Binghe whines when Shen Yuan tries to shoo him out of the Qian Cao beginner lessons. “Isn’t it better for me to learn how to take care of myself?”

It’s better for this Shixiong to take care of you, ah! Shen Yuan very much does not say, but he does begrudgingly let Luo Binghe stay.

Except the lessons go too late, and it’s dangerous for Luo Binghe to be wandering between the peaks after dark, so he ends up having to bunk with Shen Yuan for the night, and Shen Yuan offers him some of his old Qian Cao disciple robes to sleep in, and Luo Binghe never takes them off -

Shen Yuan stares at Luo Binghe, happily calling him ‘Shixiong’ and dressed in Qian Cao robes and without even the smallest of bruises or scrapes on his person, and -

Well, this is probably a good a way as any to rescue Luo Binghe, ah!

#ty for the prompt!#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #bingqiu #fic drabble

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writers-potion · 9 days

Note

In my older wip, there were a lot of action scenes with serious characters. It was far from great but to me it felt good enough for a first try on long fiction. Now in my new wip I have many action scenes with high-stakes but the characters are supposed to be goofballs, like Team Rocket or the Alpha Gang, but I'm not really good at writing goofiness between action scenes. Do you have any advice on how to mix these things?

Writing Funny (But Intense) Action Scenes

Goofy Action

Not every swordstroke, pull of the bowstring, or pulling of the trigger have to be intense and serious. Show how characters just casually show off their “fancy” fighting skills just because they can.

Holding an arrow between their teeth like a rose

Making whooshing sounds as they slash left and right, one sword in each hand.

Whistling/singing during the fight

Making fun of their team member during the fight, then nearly getting killed for not paying attention, but then casually deflecting the lethal blow with awesome fighting skills.

Use Snippets of Conversation

Insert bits of banter in between. This doesn’t necessarily have to be a joke.

Characters calling each other nicknames

Characters competing with each other while fighting: “I got two monsters while you were pitifully struggling with that green one. It wasn’t even that big!”/ “shut up.”

Use internal Dialogue

Show characters making fun of their opponents as they fight

Characters casually cursing and making jokes to themselves

Characters commenting on other characters’ fighting: i.e. “Just one monster with one spear? I could easily get two!”

Characters complaining: i.e. “I should’ve finished that cocoa. My poor cocoa!”

Make Description Funny

The tone is in large part determined by word choice/ use of figurative speech in description. Use expressions like:

He jumped over the obstacles quickly like a rabbit with its tail on fire.

He waltzed into the battlefield, only it wasn’t elegant at all.

She held off her enemies left and right, which made her look like a string puppet with a particularly mean owner.

Apart from the fact that his grunts couldn’t be distinguished from the zombies’, he was doing fine.

Lighthearted action scenes are some of my favorites to read! Do remember to balance off all the joking, banter and funny actions with some serious blows, to remind the readers how high the stakes are.

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rheasesposts · 1 year

Text

trouble

neteyam sully x fem!navi!reader

summary : Jake and Y/N go behind Neteyam’s back.

——————————————————————————

“You’re making my brain hurt, Lo’ak!” Y/N sneered then scooted away from him to be closer to Kiri. He was attempting braiding her hair and failing terribly which caused him to pull at her head too hard for her liking. Lo’ak huffed and stuck his tongue out at her then stormed off to find Spider. “What a grump.”

Kiri nodded and softly plated Y/N’s hair with nimble fingers, “He is a pain.” Kiri’s parents and her brother, Neteyam, were leading the mountain rounds for the night and left Y/N in charge, despite her not being Jake or Neytir’s child, but Neteyam’s mate. “They will be back soon.”

“Good thing I put Tuk to bed a while ago.” Y/N mumbled, fiddling with the bracelets on her wrists and ankles. All of the them given to her by Tuk or Neteyam. “I should probably go get Lo’ak before they return.”

Kiri sighed, a little mad her parents put Y/N on kid duty and made it her responsibility for a family that wasn’t even hers, not until her and Neteyam officially became one. “Quick.”

Y/N shot up and trekked through High Camp, calling for Lo’ak. There was no response, so Y/N eventually ended up outside the camp on a branch bridge. She cursed in Na’vi after she couldn’t find him. Going farther down from the camp, she detected rustling and laughing in a nearby cave. She yelled again for him, and he came running out of the hiding place with Spider and two Omatikaya girls.

“Don’t tell my father.” Lo’ak pleaded after he saw Y/N’s surprised yet mischievous face. “He’ll skin me alive.”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be so awful?” She teasingly pouted at him then snapped her fingers and pointed to the spot next to her. Lo’ak grumbled as he retreated to her side. “Spider, take them home.” He forcefully nodded and led the girls back. “Why are you so stupid?”

“What?” Lo’ak questioned and kept pace with Y/N as she climbed up some rocks.

“Your parents would have murdered me if I didn’t find you. Why were you out there anyway?” Y/N unexpectedly put a hand on his mouth before he could talk. “I don’t actually care. That was rhetorical. But don’t do that again.”

They reached High Camp, and Y/N saw Jake sitting by the entrance, assumed to be waiting for her and Lo’ak. She dragged a hand down her face then smacked Lo’ak loudly. He whined and ran away from her and to his dad who cackled at Y/N’s action.

“I see you had a problem.” Jake eyed his youngest son who was standing to the left of him. Y/N scratched the hair at the bottom of her scalp then shrugged lightly.

“I mean, nothing I can’t handle.” Y/N boasted playfully, and Lo’ak shoved her to the side. “You little-“

“Language!” Jake quipped before Y/N spoke a nasty word. She zipped her lips and flipped Lo’ak off instead. “Lo’ak, go help Neteyam with the Ikran, I have to speak to Y/N.”

Y/N widened her eyes, “Am I in trouble? Please say no!” Jake shook his head and pulled her to just outside the mountain cavern. “What is it? You’re scaring me.”

“I want you to be on the raid tomorrow.” Jake quieted down, knowing his eldest son and wife were awake in the tent.

“Ok, why is this a secret?”

“Neteyam doesn’t know you’re going, and he isn’t going himself.”

“So, I am committing treason against my mate?”

“Essentially.” Jake laughed, and Y/N gazed at the floating mountains. “He isn’t going to be happy with either of us.”

Y/N snickered while her ears went down in agreement, “But, do tell, why am I going and he isn’t?”

“He would be too worried about you to be an actual lookout for me.” Y/N pursed her lips. “And you are a good warrior, strong.”

“Interesting. Well, I have to prepare for my assassination by your son tomorrow when he realizes I am not home and where I am.”

“I count on it.” Jake whistled.

——

“Fire!” The chief voice Jake used came out when he said that as a train track was blown up. “Y/N, get that plane down.”

“Got it!” She raised her bow and released an arrow pointing at the first pilot, striking him right through the torso. Y/N aimed at the second one, but the gunmen learned of her position and began shooting at her. Now, Y/N was annoyed. An arrow flew for the second time from her bow and made its home in the pilot’s chest. The plane went down, and Y/N whooped with others. “It’s not an issue anymore.”

“Thank you.” Jake shortly transmitted, and Y/N went back to scouting for anymore threats.

Abruptly, bullets were flying at her backside, and she got to the floor, covering herself with her bow. Her eyes found the culprit, an aircraft with four pilots, and many soldiers with guns hanging out the open sides. Y/N huffed as she slightly lifted her bow, and an arrow flew into a soldier’s chest. Dead. The people in the plane didn’t like that. They fired rapidly at her place. “Jake!”

“I see you! Hold on!” Jake alarmed and made his way to his son’s mate. Jake’s gun blasted the ship and it became lopsided and fell into trees on fire. Y/N was still lowered as Jake arrived to her. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” Y/N responded. She stood and exposed the bullet grazes on her arms that were profusely bleeding. Jake gripped the place between her neck and shoulder and shook her. The adrenaline was tiring for Y/N so she began to hiss at the burning sensation. “I stand corrected.”

“My son is going to murder me.” Jake sighed and helped Y/N to her Ikran and holding her still as she was shaking slightly. “Will you be alright to fly back?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” She scoffed, her Ikran already in the sky, and Jake stared as she went out of sight before directing the warriors to fall back. Jake was on his Ikran after his instructions were said, and he followed Y/N closely, detecting whether she might fall. The two plus the warrior party made it to High Camp and the warriors began distributing the weapons and ammunition they raided. Jake and Y/N sneakily ran towards Mo’at’s tent and hoped neither of their mates were in there. The two shot each other relieved looks after Neteyam and Neytiri weren’t with Mo’at.

“Sit, child.” Mo’at hummed to Y/N, and the girl did as she was told. Jake stood at the flap of the tent, watching for Neytiri or Neteyam. Y/N grumbled ever so slightly as Mo’at lathered Y/N’s wounds with a mint leaf ointment. “You are in so much trouble, Toruk Makto.”

Jake shot Mo’at an annoyed glare and snarked, “You are helping, too.”

“I am tending to a warrior who is hurt. No blame in that.” Mo’at sharply cackled and put another kind of paste into Y/N’s injuries. “How are you?”

Y/N tore her eyes from her legs to stare into Mo’at’s eyes, “I am alright until Neteyam learns I am here.”

“Yes.” Mo’at agreed and placed a comforting hand on Y/N’s head. “Jakesully, sulking is not going to get you out of punishment.”

“She is right.” Neytiri appeared and roughly smacked her mate’s arm, and he held the place she touched with an apologetic expression. “My Y/N, what happened?”

“Oh, nothing really.” Y/N brushed off Neytiri’s concern and got to her feet. She could feel Neteyam nearby, and she needed to sprint before he saw her. Jake suddenly looked to her with wide eyes, and she knew exactly what that meant. Before she could even start to move her legs, Neteyam was grasping her upper arm, holding the uninjured part. “No!”

“Y/N.” Neteyam said. “How could you do this?”

“I had no choice, really. Your dad is Toruk Makto, I can’t just deny him.” Y/N weakly explained, and Neteyam’s ears drooped in disappointment. “Don’t look at me like that. I am fine anyway.”

“The medicine all over your arms say otherwise.” Neteyam shot back, and they held a stare-down. Jake and Neytiri peered as the two didn’t back down from each other’s penetrating stares. Finally, Neteyam sighed and pulled Y/N into his chest, “You could have been more hurt.”

“But I wasn’t.” Y/N’s voice was muffled by Neteyam’s skin. Her mate laughed at the sound, and Y/N lifted her head to him. “I am sorry I went behind your back, but I think we should just blame Jake.”

Jake became offended as Neteyam chuckled at Y/N and kissed her lips shortly. “I think so too.”

“Hey!” Jake whined slightly as everyone else giggled. Neytiri pushed Jake out of the tent to most likely scold him. Mo’at shooed Y/N and Neteyam away, so more injured could come for help.

“I am happy to see you.” Y/N muttered into Neteyam’s ear after they sat in their tent and cuddled into each other’s embrace. Neteyam kissed her neck and hummed.

“Likewise, my Y/N.” Neteyam uttered sweetly before putting his hand on her waist and massaging the skin there. “But you had me worried all day.”

“Yeah, yeah. But I came back to you.” Y/N mused while pecking against his lips. “I always will.”

“I hope so.” Neteyam pulled her infinitely closer and the whole night was filled with love from Y/N and Neteyam’s tent.

#jake sully #neteyam #neytiri #avatar #avatar x reader #kiri sully #loak sully #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #jake sully x y/n #sully family #sully family x reader

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the-griffons-saddlebag · 3 months

Photo

⚔️ 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Hailstorm Bow Weapon (longbow), legendary (requires attunement) ___ This bow is made of pure ice, which only becomes pliable in your hands once you attune to it. While the bow is on your person, your skin becomes covered in a thin layer of protective frost, granting you a +1 bonus to AC and immunity to cold damage. An arrow that’s fired from the bow becomes covered in ice, which deals an extra 1d6 cold damage to any target it hits. If you hit a target within 5 feet of you using the bow on your turn, the target also has disadvantage on any attack rolls it makes until the end of your current turn. The bow has 7 charges and regains 1d6 + 1 expended charges daily at dawn. While holding the bow, you can use an action to expend 1 or more of its charges to use either of the following properties. 𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙢 𝙑𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙮. For each charge you expend, you fire a magical arrow of pure ice from the bow into the sky centered directly above a point that you can see within 120 feet of you. Sharp hail then falls from the sky in a 20-foot-radius, 40-foot-high cylinder centered on the point. Each creature in the area must make a DC 17 Dexterity saving throw. On a failed save, a creature takes 2d8 cold damage, plus 1d8 cold damage for each expended charge after the first. On a successful save, a creature takes half as much cold damage. The hailstones then turn the area into difficult terrain until the end of your next turn. 𝙄𝙘𝙚 𝙒𝙖𝙡𝙡. For each charge you expend, you fire a magical arrow of pure ice from the bow at a different point on the ground that you can see within 120 feet of you. Each arrow then grows into a 10-foot-square panel that’s 1 foot thick and perpendicular to the ground. Each panel has AC 12, 30 hit points, and is vulnerable to fire damage. If the wall cuts through a creature’s space when it appears, the creature is pushed to one side of the wall (your choice which side) and must make a DC 17 Dexterity saving throw. A creature takes 3d8 cold damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one. Each panel remains for 1 minute or until it’s reduced to 0 hit points. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

#illustration #digital art #dungeons and dragons #dnd #d&d

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genshinluvr · 10 months

Text

Predator vs. Prey

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You're put to the test on how well you can escape in case people are hunting you down. Your trial was going well in the beginning until you ran into the predators the men are training you to run away from.

Note: To be honest, I couldn't come up with a good title for this fic. I went with what it was supposed to be about and ran with it. I think this fic or the concept of Predator vs. Prey is a good smut idea, but I'm not entirely sure if I'll ever make it into a smut. I did have an idea for Childe that is similar to this but Halloween themed, but I never made it. If anyone wants me to make a fic for Childe with a theme like this, let me know in the inbox, and maybe I'll make it a Halloween mini-fic for him. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: There is some action scenes in the middle (maybe close to the end) of the story. Reader gets injured, but it's nothing major.

Word Count: 7.1k

Trees around you whip in your face as you dash through the trees of Sumeru. You’re running as fast as you can, and somehow, it’s not fast enough. Sweat drips down your face, your heart punches against your chest, and your legs feel like they’re about to give out from underneath you. An arrow whizz past your face, forcing you to come to an abrupt stop before running in another direction.

They’re out to get you, and they almost succeeded. You can’t let them win because if you did let them win, you don’t know what the consequences are going to be. Your lungs are on fire, and you swear you can taste blood in your mouth when you take gulps of air. The air is heavy, the sun is high in the sky, and the trees towering over you do little to nothing to shield you from the burning rays.

Footsteps are fast approaching, causing you to turn around to check and see how close they are to getting you. Because you were distracted, it led to you getting tackled from the side. You and the person crash to the ground. Your ears are ringing, and your vision blurs. You want to push the person off you, but you’re so tired, and you can barely lift your head up to see who tackled you to the ground.

“Aha! Gotcha!” The person proudly exclaims, pinning you to the ground by straddling your hips.

The people chasing after you stop before you and the person above you. They’re all panting, hands propping on their hips while trying to catch their breaths. You blink rapidly, trying to clear your vision. The person pinning you to the ground is smirking at you. You push the person off you and prop yourself up on your forearms, gulping as much air as you possibly can.

“Alright, you win. Now, can you please get off me? It’s really hot, and my clothes are sticking to my skin,” you say.

Dainsleif takes a step forward and crosses his arms over his chest, looking at you with disapproval. “You were distracted. If you weren’t distracted, Itto wouldn’t have tackled you to the ground,” Dainsleif says.

“Hey! It’s not my fault for being distracted! I didn’t know that Childe was going to be shooting arrows at me while I ran for my life!” You said, pointing at the ginger Harbinger.

Childe walks over to the arrow sticking out from the tree before the bow and arrows disappear from thin air. Childe walks back to the group, his hands by his side while snorting at your comment. Childe wipes the sweat from his forehead before taking his gray jacket off, fanning himself with his hand.

Childe clears his throat. “Listen, when you’re in this situation, many things will be going on around you! I’m just preparing you for the worst-case scenario!” Childe says, holding his hand in front of him as if he’s surrendering.

You stare at the ginger Harbinger, not saying a word. That arrow almost cut your face, and he’s acting like he didn’t do anything wrong?! Well, he technically didn’t do anything wrong. Like what Childe said, he’s preparing you for the worst-case scenario, and he did pretty well! You didn’t get distracted by the arrow flying past your face, thankfully.

“You should also learn to dodge arrows. Who knows what could have happened if you didn’t dodge the arrows,” Gorou comments, walking up to you and Itto.

Gorou holds his hand out for you to take. Itto gets off of you, wiping the bead of sweat from his forehead. You grab Gorou’s hand and get off the ground, wiping the dirt and grass off your clothes. You look down at your white pants, groaning internally. The grass stains on your white pants are going to be a pain in the ass to get off. Those things are stubborn to get off.

You look at Gorou, none of you letting go of each other’s hands. “And how do you expect me to dodge something sharp? You know what happened last time I tried to dodge something sharp,” you sigh in defeat.

Al Haitham chuckles, shaking his head. “That we do. You got an uneven haircut that day,” Al Haitham comments.

You untuck your hair from behind your ears and point at the chunk of hair that’s shorter than the rest. You press your lips into a thin line, not saying anything. Everyone slowly turns to look at Venti, who’s rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. Venti thought it’d be a great idea to have you stand in front of the dummies and try to dodge the arrows he was shooting at you. It went well at first, but then more people decided to join in, and that resulted in you having an unwanted haircut.

It wasn’t entirely Venti’s fault, but he did suggest it. You agreed to it without hesitation because you were curious to see how good of a reflex you have. Needless to say, it’s decent but not good enough to save you from that haircut.

“Anyway, is this test really necessary? You know I hardly leave the abode unless I have to go to school or when we have reservations,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Diluc sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes, it is necessary. Danger is lurking around every corner of Teyvat. Since you’re our significant other, you’re more at risk of having a target on your back for being associated with us,” Diluc replies.

Recently, your boyfriends think it’s best to test your stealth. They put you through a series of tests, and so far, you have done fairly decent on these trials. Your beloveds learn that you’re great at sneaking around, and you’re great at sneaking around because you always sneak downstairs to grab a snack at three in the morning. Since you don’t have summer classes, you stay up late with your boyfriends.

While you’re great at sneaking around, you can’t sneak from Tighnari, Itto, and Gorou because those three have a keen sense of hearing. Mainly Tighnari and Gorou. When your stealth trial started in Mondstadt at the Stormterror’s Lair, those two were able to track you down while listening to every little noise you made.

Ayato approaches you and hands you a bottle of water. “Make sure to hydrate. This isn’t the end of your trial,” says Ayato.

You take the bottle of water from Ayato’s hands and chug the water. You’ve been outside in Sumeru for who knows how long. You assumed that you failed the first round because Itto tackled you to the ground while you were distracted. At least, you’re pretty sure it was the first round. You ran through the forest of Sumeru for a while, and the men told you to run without looking back. They’ll start chasing after you and throwing obstacles in your way a minute after you run into the forest.

Having twenty-five people chase after you, shooting arrows in your direction along with blowing gusts of wind in your way as you try to escape was thrilling but also terrifying. The possibility of you getting hurt is high, but it’s also something you’re going to have to deal with if someone were to hunt you down.

You gesture to the men, wiping the corner of your lips. “What are we going to call this test? Is it a speed test or what?” You ask while closing the water bottle and leaning up against the tree.

“Predator versus Prey! That is what we should call it!” Venti comments, nodding his head happily.

You blink at Venti before scratching your cheek. That would be a fitting name for what you’re being put through, but at the same time, it sounds like a kink. A primal fetish. You pursed your lips and began looking around, scratching the back of your neck. Should you tell Venti, or should you keep it to yourself and act like nothing inappropriate popped up in your mind a few seconds ago?

Xiao narrows his eyes at you. “Why do you have that look on your face?”

You shake your head, uncap the water bottle and take a sip. There’s no way you’re going to tell them, or else one of them will want to do it. Kink aside, you like the feeling of having to run away from something. You’re awful at hunting something or someone down, but having someone chase after you?

“I can see steam coming from your ears. Are you sure you’re okay?” Aether asks, approaching you and pressing his gloved hand against your forehead.

You brush Aether’s hands away and nod. “Yeah! I’m fine, Aether. Don’t worry about me,” You lie, giving the blond a fake smile.

Yeah. There’s no way in hell you’re going to be telling anyone of them about you liking the thrill of being chased. You didn’t mind being chased as long as you knew that person and as long as you were not in actual danger. Therefore being pursued and hunted down by your twenty-five handsome boyfriends is thrilling! But being hunted and chased down by Eremites and Treasure Hoarders is something you never want to experience ever. Unless… unless… actually, you know what? Forget it.

You squeeze the water bottle in your hands. “I know Ayato said that this isn’t the end of my trial, but is it the end of my trial for today, or are we going to continue after the water break?” you ask, brushing your strands of hair away from your face.

The men look at one another, silently communicating with each other. You cover your mouth and yawn, already feeling the exhaustion catching up to you. You don’t think you can go on any longer if you’re feeling exhausted. Still, like Childe said previously, many things can happen. It’s not like the people hunting you down are going to let you rest before continuing the chase. Although that would be hilarious if they did let you rest.

“As much as we would like to continue the test, we think it’s best to stop here for today,” Thoma answers.

“For your sake and for Baizhu’s sake,” Tighnari comments, pointing his thumb over in Baizhu’s direction.

Oh, fuck. You should have remembered about Baizhu. Everyone’s heads whip toward Baizhu’s direction to see the poor doctor doubling over while trying to take deep breaths without collapsing. Changsheng sits prettily around the green-haired man’s shoulders, whispering something to the doctor. Heizou and Kazuha rush to Baizhu’s side and wrap his arms around their shoulders, helping the man stand up.

“Are you alright, Doctor Baizhu?” Kazuha asks, gazing at Baizhu worriedly.

Heizou points at the fallen tree before the two anemo vision holders assist the green-haired man to the tree. Baizhu sits on the tree, gulping air as he tries to calm his racing heart. You run your hands through your hair. How could you forget that Baizhu can’t run due to his illness? After a few minutes of silence, Baizhu clears his throat.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to worry any of you,” Baizhu says, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks turn red with embarrassment and shame.

You approach the man and sit beside him. Seeing Baizhu having to apologize for something he has no control over makes you upset. You frown, placing your hand on the small of his back and gently rubbing his back. “Baizhu, you don’t need to apologize for anything.”

Baizhu sighs and rests his cheek on your head after you scoot to sit closer to him, wrapping an arm around his slim waist. Baizhu sits straight and coughs into his right elbow, wincing when sharp pain shoots up his chest. Baizhu squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath, placing his hand on his chest.

Heizou sighs, propping his hands on his hips while looking at the others. “We should head back to the abode for Doctor Baizhu to rest and take his medications. [Y/N] needs to rest as well before tomorrow,” Heizou says.

Everyone returned to the abode, and now you’re in the infirmary with Baizhu, Albedo, Dottore, and Tighnari. Usually, Baizhu prescribes himself medications, but Albedo, Dottore, and Tighnari insist on doing it on Baizhu’s behalf. You weren’t sure if Baizhu didn’t protest because he didn’t want to cause a scene or if Baizhu was too tired to argue back.

“You know, Doctor Baizhu. As a doctor, you should know that health is important. But it seems like you put [Y/N]’s test over your health instead,” Dottore comments, turning to look at the green-haired doctor while leaning against the counter with his arms over his chest.

Baizhu doesn’t respond, only sighs in response and lies on the examination table. You sit on the edge of the examination table and brush his hair away from his face. Baizhu smiles at you weakly as you caress his face, stroking his pale cheek with your thumb. Baizhu places his hand over yours, wrapping his fingers around your hands before bringing your hands to his lips and pressing a light kiss on your knuckles.

Albedo sighs and glares at Dottore from the corner of his eyes. “Scolding Doctor Baizhu is the last thing you should be doing, Dottore. I don’t understand how someone uncompassionate like you is even in the field of medicine,” Albedo mutters, walking past the Harbinger to give Baizhu his medication.

“He’s not even a real doctor. The title was just handed over to him,” Scaramouche interjects from the entryway.

You look at the door to see Scaramouche leaning against the door frame with his arms over his chest. Dottore glowers at Scaramouche, who ignores the icy-blue-haired Harbinger before entering the room with a sigh. You and Tighnari help Baizhu sit up while Albedo hands Baizhu his medication with a cup of water.

You, Dottore, Albedo, Tighnari, and Scaramouche ended up leaving Baizhu at the infirmary to go downstairs to where the others are waiting for the five of you. Baizhu wanted to rest in the infirmary for a little longer before returning to his bedroom. Archons, you’re not mentally or physically prepared for tomorrow’s test. Your legs feel like jelly, and you’re worried you might collapse mid-test and roll down a hill.

“So, what do you guys want to talk to me about?” You ask, sitting on the couch between Kaveh and Cyno.

Cyno looks at the others, turning to look at you. “We’re going to meet up in the usual spot where the test was held, but we will not go there with you,” Cyno says.

You blink at the Mahamatra and then at the others, who nod in agreement. You expect there to be someone protesting about you going to the location alone. Still, shockingly enough, no one objected to the idea. You squint your eyes at the men, leaning back in your seat and crossing your leg over the other. They’re up to something. You know they are, and when they devise something together, it’s never good. They all stare at you, waiting for your response. How else are you supposed to reply exactly?

“All of you came up with this plan while Albedo, Tighnari, Dottore, Baizhu, and I were in the infirmary?” You ask, wanting clarification from the men before you.

Kaveh nods. “That’s correct! We came up with this plan while the five of you were in the infirmary,” Kaveh replies, scratching the back of his neck.

You nod slowly, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue. If the majority of the men came up with this plan while the other four men were in the infirmary, then technically, everyone didn’t really come up with this plan. It was twenty-one men that put this plan together while the others were occupied with something else.

Kaeya nudges your foot to get your attention. “If you’re wondering how we came up with this plan while the five of you were occupied with something, we came up with this idea while giving you a head start before we started chasing after you in the forest,” Kaeya explains, sending a wink your way.

Thaaaat makes more sense. Right, how could you forget about that? You purse your lips, nodding. Okay, so you will be going to the site alone tomorrow. Does that mean the men will be waking up before you or after you? Either way, you’re not prepared for tomorrow because your legs feel weak and sore. You’re hoping your stamina will be slightly better than what it currently is and that your legs won’t betray you mid-test.

“Any other questions you have for us before we dismiss you?” Pierro asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You hold up a finger. “One question… well, two questions. What’s Baizhu going to do while this test is happening?”

“We’re not entirely sure. What we do know is Baizhu will not be participating in chasing after you through the forest due to his illness,” Zhongli replies.

Pantalone props his arms on Zhongli’s shoulders. “And what’s your other question, butterfly?”

You open your mouth to ask, but your mind goes blank. You stare at Pantalone and Zhongli, letting your hand fall on your lap. Fuck. What was the other question you wanted to ask? You sigh, falling back on the couch and closing your eyes. Pantalone and Zhongli glance at each other, unsure of what to say.

“Are you going to ask the second question?” Capitano asks.

Archons, you can almost hear the man raise his eyebrows at you after asking that question. You huff, sit up and grab a throw pillow nearby before hugging it to your chest. You think long and hard, trying to recall what your second question was. Of course, nothing came to mind.

Diluc pushes himself off the wall he’s leaning on and begins walking up the stairs. “This is a sign for [Y/N] to go to their room and rest,” Diluc says, continuing up the stairs.

You stand abruptly, grabbing the others' attention. “I remember now!” You exclaim, clapping your hand. “Will we leave the abode at the same time or at different times?”

“We will be leaving at different times. We need to leave early to prepare your trial, but we will have your breakfast prepared for you on the table,” Thoma interjects, smiling at you.

You nod. Alright, that’s probably the only question you have for the men. Baizhu won’t be joining the trial, and the men will be leaving the estate early in the morning to prepare the things for your trial. You get off the couch and bid the men goodnight (with hugs and kisses) before walking to your bedroom to take a shower and go straight to bed after finishing your shower. Tomorrow is going to be a long day, and you need to get as much sleep as you can. Once you finished your shower and changed into clean underwear and clothes, the minute you lay on your bed, you were out like the light.

Like a blink of an eye, it’s already the next day. You wake up to your alarm blaring in your ears, and you immediately leave your bed to get ready for the trial. Despite sleeping for a long time and through the entire night, you feel like you barely slept. Almost like you were constantly moving around on your bed, fixing your pillow, trying to find the comfiest sleeping position to sleep in, only to lay in bed and have your eyes closed for eight hours or more. It was terrible, and you’re worried you won’t be able to focus on your trial and that you’ll disappoint your boyfriends. Granted, they would rather have you well-rested than run in the forest with less than two hours of sleep.

Just when you’re about to step out of the estate, a voice calls out to you, “Ah, ah, ah! Can’t forget about your water now.”

You turn to see Baizhu approaching you with your water bottle in his hand. Baizhu holds the water bottle out to you, smiling at you. You grab the water from Baizhu’s hands, smiling at him. Baizhu looks ten times better than how he did yesterday. You’re glad Baizhu didn’t leave with the men while in terrible shape. You’re unsure if he’s doing well now. Still, since he looks better compared to yesterday, you’re assuming the man is doing better than before. You notice a note attached to your water bottle. You grab the letter and tear it off the bottle before reading it to yourself.

“Good morning, dearest! While Baizhu will not be joining us in this trial, he will be on the sidelines, watching everything go down. He will be there to treat any injuries in case people get injured! We didn’t want you to go to the spot alone, so Baizhu offered to keep you company!”

It seems like Baizhu will be coming along! At least you won’t be alone when you’re traversing to the location where the trial was held the day before! It’s great to have someone accompany you, and you won’t be bored or lonely on your way there. Baizhu holds his arm out for you to take. You link your arms around Baizhu’s arms, and the two of you set off to the location the day before.

The travel was short, but there was never a dull moment between you and the green-haired Doctor. You two talked about each other’s childhood, trading laughter and gossip about the people closest to you two (mainly family or close friends). Upon arriving at the location, you unlink your arms, and Baizhu sets a chair down under the shade, the Serenitea pot floating beside him.

“Are you sure you want to sit there? Why not sit somewhere that has bigger shade?” You say, gesturing toward the forest.

Baizhu doesn’t reply and continues to sit under the shade he found outside the forest. You sigh and uncap your water, taking a light sip of it. You’ve thought about chugging the water, but you’re not sure if you’ll be able to hold your bladder if you drink too much of the water.

“If anything happensssss, do let usssss know, and we will come and get you. The otherssssss will not be pleasssssed if their most treasured person isssss injured,” Changsheng says, perching on Baizhu’s shoulders.

You smile at Changsheng and stroke the top of her head. “Will do! If anything happens and none of you are able to hear me, I will call Xiao,” you said.

The white snake nods before resting on Baizhu’s shoulders, closing her eyes. You give Baizhu a light squeeze on the shoulders. Before you enter the forest, Baizhu stands suddenly and wraps his arms around your shoulders, kissing your cheek. You stand on the tip of your toes and kiss his jaws and rub his back.

Baizhu walks you to the edge of the forest, holding your hand. You and Baizhu trade a small kiss before departing. You walk into the forest while Baizhu is at the entrance, watching your every move. Once you have disappeared from his sight, Baizhu returns to his seat under the shades next to the Serenitea pot.

You start your trail by walking into the forest. So far, nothing was happening, and therefore, you didn’t see the need to run. Unless you hear rustling, rapid footsteps approaching you, or an arrow flying by your face, you will be walking for the time being while staying alert. Everything is fine and going well so far. Although the strange thing about today’s trial is that no one has started chasing after you, and it’s starting to make you feel on edge.

“I don’t like where this is going,” you mutter.

Yesterday, before your trial, Tighnari and a few of the men went into the forest and marked the trees and trails so you and the other men wouldn’t get lost while trekking through the forest alone. You’re glad they did that because if they didn’t do that, you would’ve gotten lost and probably freaked out about it.

You can feel eyes on you as you walk through the thick forest of Sumeru. You’re hoping that it’s the men that are keeping their eyes on you and not someone (or something) opposite. You close your eyes and try to listen to your surroundings. The only things you hear are birds chirping and a rush of water from a distance. No footsteps, no rustling of the grass or bushes to signify that someone was approaching you.

SNAP!

Without hesitation, you duck into the nearest bush and peek from the leaves, trying to pinpoint the location of where the twig snapping came from. It was loud and clear, and you’re not sure how close the twig snapping was, but it was loud enough for you to know that someone was near.

What’s interesting is that after the twig snapped and you ducked into a nearby bush, you didn’t hear anything else afterward. No footsteps, no chatter, etc. Aside from the occasional chirping and waterfall rushing in the background, it's dead silent. You need to start moving, or else someone is going to catch you before you make it to the finish line.

You slowly leave your hiding spot, trying your best not to make a sound. When you’re out of your hiding spot, you begin your journey through the woods. A black and teal smoke appears out of thin air before you, and an arm reaches out to grab you, but you quickly jump back and begin running in the opposite direction. You’re not supposed to do that, but you want to lose Xiao in the forest before continuing down the path.

Xiao growls and begins jumping from tree to tree above you, appearing in a puff of smoke, trying to grab at you. You don’t think you’ll be able to lose Xiao. Not when the man is dubbed the vigilant Yaksha, who is observant, quick on his feet, and ready to strike at any moment. Whoever thought it was a good idea to have someone as fast as Xiao to chase after you really wanted to see you fail.

“You’re going in the wrong direction!” Xiao screams, continuing to chase after you through the woods.

“No, I’m not!” You yell back, refusing to take your eyes off your path.

You know you’re going in the wrong direction. You’re hoping to lose the Yaksha in the forest and get him off your tail, but it looks like it won’t be happening any time soon. So, you make a sharp right turn and continue down the path the men have marked for you the day prior. A portal suddenly opens in front of you, and an arm reaches out to get you. You skid to a stop before jerking around the portal, squealing with fear.

“Nice try, Dainsleif! You can’t catch me!” You scream, continuing farther into the woods.

Maybe it’s best for you not to provoke the people that are chasing after you because it’s possible you’re adding fuel to the fire. You know these men are competitive. You haven’t seen any of them today, and the minute they start appearing in the forest, you start provoking them by announcing (more like screaming) that they can’t catch you.

A familiar arrow flies by your face, sticking into the tree you ran by. You stop in your tracks, grab the arrow, and continue running deeper into the forest. You take a quick glance at the arrow in your hands, only to realize that it’s Gorou’s arrows and not Childe’s arrows. Itto cackles from a distance, yelling, “Bam!”

You shriek when something slams into your back, sending you rolling to the ground. Whatever just hit you, it’s heavy and weighing down on you. You roll over on your back to see Ushi bouncing on his feet while mooing. Dammit Itto! You grumble and snatch Ushi from the ground and continue where you left off.

Itto shrieks, running after you. “Hey! Unhand Ushi! Ushi was supposed to knock you down so I could tag you out!”

“Too bad, so sad! You should’ve thought through your plan before throwing Ushi at me!” You scream, hugging Ushi tightly to your chest while clutching Gorou’s arrow with the other hand.

Gorou screams from a distance, “Get them before they escape!”

A figure swoops down from the tree, attempting to grab you, only to snatch Ushi from your arms. You cackle loudly, tossing Gorou’s arrow to the side while continuing to run for your life. Scaramouche growls loudly, throwing Ushi at Itto, who catches the bull. Itto sighs in relief before continuing on pursuing you.

Scaramouche huffs, “I almost had them! If it weren’t for that chunky bull, I would’ve caught them by now!”

“Hey! How dare you make a comment about Ushi’s weight!” Itto cries, shaking his fist at Scaramouche before the man floats away where you disappeared off to.

You run as fast as you can, dodging trees in the woods, jumping over tree trunks and vines. Rapid footsteps head in your direction, and screaming and cursing from the men fill the air. You weren’t sure if this was what they had planned the day before, but it was something you didn’t expect.

You somehow made it to the end of the trail that leads to a clear field. You exit the forest, panting. Your legs give out from underneath you, sending you rolling and tumbling in the middle of the field. You lay on the grass, panting and trying to catch your breath. While the marked trail was short compared to the actual size of the forest of Sumeru, you’re glad you made it out. Although, you’re not sure if your trial is finished. You get off the ground, dust your clothes and turn toward the forest, only to bump into someone.

“Oh, shit! You scared me!” You gasped, pressing your hands against your chest.

You turn to apologize to one of the men, only to freeze. You take a step back and stare at the group of people before you, giving them a wary smile. Eremites and Treasure Hoarders stand before you, readying their weapons and cracking their knuckles. You’re fucked. Oh no. You quickly look over your shoulders to see if the men are behind you, only to see no one.

“Uh, sorry for bumping into you guys! I was uh… running away from the Rishboland Tigers,” you squeak.

One of the Eremites raises his eyebrows at you. “There aren’t Rishboland Tigers in this particular area. Are you lying to us?” He asks, stepping closer to you.

You sigh. Would it hurt to tell the Eremites and Treasure Hoarders you’re following a trail? You press your lips into a thin line, refraining from telling the Eremites and Teasure Hoarders what you were doing in the forest. The men are training you for a reason. They’re training you in case you run into situations like this when they’re not around, but so far, nothing has happened yet, thankfully.

Archons, it would be stupid of you to expose the plans the men came up with. You give the Eremites and Treasure Hoarders a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of your neck, and step back. Do these people know what personal space is?

“Alright, alright. You caught me. I was training for this upcoming race the Akademiya is holding for their students. I want to do well and get the first-place prize,” You lie, sighing in defeat.

The short Treasure Hoarder narrows his eyes at you. “And what is that prize?”

You blink at the man. What? Does he expect the Akademiya to reward you Mora for winning a race that you made up? Plus, even if the Akademiya were to host an event like that, you don’t think the Akademiya would reward Mora. Well, they probably will, but not the amount the Treasure Hoarder is assuming it would be.

You clear your throat. “It’s a scholarship for the upcoming quarter at the Akademiya, along with a trip to the Mausoleum of King Deshret with researchers,” you lie.

A Treasure Hoarder from the back scoffs. “Sounds like a shitty prize if you ask me,” the blond Treasure Hoarder mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Sounds shitty to you because you were rejected by the Akademiya,” the gray-haired Eremite retorts, smirking at the blond Treasure Hoarder.

You purse your lips and subtly take another step back while the blond Treasure Hoarder and gray-haired Eremite start bickering with one another. You begin looking at your surroundings, trying to find a place to escape. You can go back into the forest, but you can’t guarantee the Treasure Hoarders and Eremites won’t follow after you.

While the Treasure Hoarders and Eremites are distracted with trying to prevent the leaders of their group from getting into a scuffle, you take that as your chance and run back into the forest without looking. One thing you learned from yesterday is not to look back while you’re running, or else that will be one of your downfalls.

“Hey! Where are you going!?” The Eremite screams.

The blond Treasure Hoarder groans with anger and frustration. “Don’t just stand there! After them, you buffoons!” The blond Treasure Hoarder screams.

You groan and sprint into the forest, hoping you’d run into one of the men. The screams and shouts of the Treasure Hoarders and Eremites follow after you, filling the once-quiet air in the forest. The men haven’t fully prepared you for this situation. If you’re able to escape and lose the Eremites and Treasure Hoarders, great! But the men have yet to teach you on what you should do if you were caught by the two groups. Childe and the other Harbingers have taught you how to use weapons, but alas, you do not have a weapon on your person. You’re fucked. You’re so fucked, and you’re looking everywhere for one of the men, and yet none of them made an appearance after you succeeded in escaping the chase.

You blindly reach out and rip a tree branch while passing by a large tree. You might as well use the tree branch as a weapon. It’s better to have something to use as a weapon than be empty-handed. An Eremite appears before you out of nowhere, holding his arm out to catch you. You didn’t stop fast enough. Your feet slid on the ground before you slammed into the Eremite. The Eremite wraps his beefy arms around you. You growl and thrash around in his arms, leaning down and biting his arm hard.

The Eremite screams and slams you against the tree, knocking the wind out of you. You wheeze and swing the tree branch blindly, successfully hitting him in the face with the tree branch. The Eremite groans and kicks you in the stomach as you get up from the ground. You stumble and slam against the tree.

You breathe heavily, trying to calm your nerves. Your heartbeat is skyrocketing, and your mind is all over the place. You don’t know whether you should continue to run or fight back. The training took a different turn. You let out a scream, charging at the Eremite, tackling the beefy person to the ground, and begin whacking the Eremite with the tree branch while pulling on his hair with your other hand.

If this is the way you’re going to die, then you might as well make the most of it. The Eremite blindly reaches up to your hair and grabs your hair by the roots before yanking you down. Footsteps approach to where you and the Eremite are rolling around and smacking each other.

“Take your hands off them immediately!” Someone hollers, grabbing the Eremite by the shirt and yanking him off you.

You roll over and squat, rubbing your cheekbones. You’re going to get a bruise later. The Eremite punched you in the face really hard, and your vision went dark for a second. Gentle hands grab you by the biceps, helping you up from the ground.

“Are you alright?” Aether asks, gazing at you worriedly.

You shake your head. “I’m fine, Aether. It’s nothing I couldn’t handle,” you rasp, rubbing your stomach.

You look up, blinking away the black dots dotting your vision. When your vision clears up, you do a double take and point at the men with your mouth agape like a fish out of water. Your beloved boyfriends aren’t wearing their typical clothing. Instead, half of them are dressed as Eremites, Treasure Hoarders.

Al Haitham steps forward, grabbing the Eremite by the shirt collar and slamming the Eremite against the tree. You can’t help but admire the beauty that is Al Haitham. Al Haitham is dressed as the Eremite Daythunder. He takes the rich red brocade off his eyes, glaring down at the Eremite, who freezes in fear when they lock eyes.

Al Haitham leans down, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at the gray-haired Eremite. “I’m not one for conflict, but if I catch you or anyone putting their hands on my significant other, then we’re going to have a problem,” Al Haitham hisses, glaring at the gray-haired Eremite.

The Eremite holds his hands in the air while sputtering out, “Hey, hey! We didn’t want any trouble!”

Cyno steps forward, also dressed as an Eremite, glaring at the man. “Oh yeah? If you didn’t want any trouble, then why did you chase [Y/N] into the forest, hm? It seems like you were looking for trouble for me,” Cyno comments, his polearm materializing in his hands.

Before Cyno can hit the Eremite, a branch swats the Eremite across the face, leaving deep lacerations behind from how hard the branch swiped his face. Cyno and the others look over at you, who toss the branch on the ground. You let out an infuriated sigh, rubbing your temples. It’s hot and humid in the forest, the Eremites and Treasure Hoarders ruined your day, and you’re starting to feel cranky. It’s only best if you’re the first one that takes a swipe at the Eremite.

You turn and start walking away. You turn your head over your shoulders, looking at your boyfriends, the Eremites, and Treasure Hoarders. “Let’s go return to where Baizhu is waiting. I don’t have the time and patience to deal with the Eremites and Treasure Hoarders. But that doesn’t mean none of you are allowed to teach them a lesson or two,” you say.

Childe chuckles, popping his knuckles as he turns to the group of Eremites and Tresure Hoarders. “You didn’t have to tell me twice, snookums,” Childe smirks as his bow appears out of thin air in his hands.

Al Haitham, Zhongli, Itto, Xiao, and Pantalone walk you back to where Baizhu is waiting for you. You notice they’re all dressed as Eremites. You stop in your tracks, turn to face the men, and point at them while looking at them from head to toe.

“Was this part of the plan? To dress like Eremites and Treasure Hoarders and chase me in the forest?” you ask, propping your hands on your hips.

“We think dressing up would get us into character and put you in the mindset where you think you’re actually being chased by Eremites and Treasure Hoarders, but you didn’t look at us the entire time while running,” Pantalone chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

You nod, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue. “Well, if I recall correctly, I was told not to look over my shoulders while I’m trying to escape from the Eremites and Treasure Hoarders,” you say.

You can’t help but look at their muscular arms. Al Haitham taps your chin to grab your attention. You look up at Al Haitham’s face. He raises his eyebrows at you, a smirk ghosting over his lips. You didn’t know what Al Haitham was smirking at until you realized you were staring at his bare chest in the Eremite Daythunder costume.

Zhongli chuckles while shaking his head. “It seems like if [Y/N] were to be chased by Eremite Daythunders and Eremite Sunfrosts, [Y/N] would get distracted by their physiques,” Zhongli murmurs, looking at the others.

You cover your cheeks with both hands before running toward the exit where Baizhu and Changsheng are waiting. On second thought, maybe you would rather be chased by the Eremites than be teased by your boyfriends for staring at them while they’re dressed as Eremites and Treasure Hoarders. But imagine…. Imagine they chase you around the estate dressed as Eremites, ready to—

“Are you okay?” Kaeya asks, walking up to you while wiping blood off his cheek with the back of his hand.

You clear your throat, nodding. “Yeah! I’m fine!” you squeak, looking away from the man.

Imagine if Predator vs. Prey were to take a different turn. A more…. Intimate turn. Archons, you need to get your head checked out. You walk over to Baizhu, waving at the green-haired man, who rushes toward you and begins checking on the injuries you sustained during the trial. Despite what happened today, you don’t think this is the end of your trial. After all, you were chased by Eremites and Treasure Hoarders. That is going to be another way for the men to make the training/trial more complicated.

“Next, we should focus on hand-to-hand combat and uses of weapons,” you hear Kazuha say, turning to look at you.

Venti nudges the person closest to him. “I don’t know about you, but [Y/N] beating up the Eremite with the tree branch is pretty hot,” Venti whispers.

After not hearing a response from the person beside him, Venti turns to look at the person with curiosity, only to realize that he was talking to you the entire time. Venti’s eyes widen, and he smiles at you sheepishly after straightening up, rubbing his back while giggling shyly.

“How much did you hear?” Venti asks, his face almost as red as the fabric hanging around his neck.

You clear your throat. “I will pretend I didn’t hear a thing,” you say, continuing to let Baizhu treat your wounds.

Venti nods and slowly backs away, covering his red cheeks with his hands. You sit back in your seat, sighing. Looks like this isn’t the end of the trials. “I wonder who else they’re going to dress like. The Nobushi and Kairagi from Inazuma?” You don’t think you can handle seeing your handsome boyfriends cosplaying as beefy villains.

Note: Ahhhhhh, I'm not sure how I feel about this overall fic, especially the ending of the fic ;v; Next week, I'll be posting a second part of the Soul Puppet! It's not angst, or does it have too many compared to the first part. I already discussed with the requester how the second part is going to go :> Also, for those who want to, my discord is officially opened! This link is temporary and will expire after seven days. If you want to join, here is the link to [Zhongli's Abode]! If you like the server, you can stay! If it's not your cup of tea, then you can leave whenever you want! To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

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bobluvbot · 2 months

Text

drivers license

pairing: james potter x f!reader summary: 'cause he said forever, but now you drive alone past his street. notes: muggle&modern!au, angst, reader gets in a slight panic attack. james as your high school bf :') first fic in a looong while, pls be nice! 2.6k wc

The moment you set the parking brake on, the evaluator began writing furiously on the long sheet of paper.

You should be combing through your actions and decisions for the twenty minutes that seemed to go by quickly, but you don’t. You know you did your best. You remembered what those green arrows and red signs meant. The yielding and the measured speeds. That the car follows where your eyesight lands so you have to be careful on what you set your focus on. Everything by the book.

Why is it that the things that stick would be those taught to us by the people who are simply not there anymore?

But then again, you remember that you also made hard brakes that made both you and the evaluator lurch an inch forward; and you got confused when he tried to distract you by fidgeting with the trinkets your mom left in her car and asking about it, like her work name tag. So who really knows if you get this or not?

You probably wouldn’t. Damn, you already bought your own key ring and neck pillows for this car, and your mom called off from work for this---

“..you’ll be getting your license in a few days or so in the mail so continue checking for that.”

Your what? You stare at the man blankly as he hands you the sheet before unbuckling his seatbelt. You could tell he was confused at your blank stare, so he reiterates, “You passed. You have to go inside to get your temporary license, ‘cause the card one will take a while to arrive.”

You could have gone with a more sensible, mature choice of words. He always gushed about how he loved your wit whenever you both were writing or doing something with words. He would get this idea of a feeling he wants to put down, but it couldn’t fit in the tone he was going for, so he’d ask you for a word or a phrase that encapsulated all that. It would be a perfect fit most of the time; and if it wasn’t, he’d work around it and be stubborn about not changing it ‘till he has to (even if you assure him many times that you won’t get mad). You asked him once why, and he says so nonchalantly, as if he did not set alight fireworks and butterflies in your chest, that his works are collages of his feelings, memories, and the people he loved most.

But despite all that, you were just able to give the evaluator an “Oh my god?!”, complete with a gaping mouth; to which he responds with an emotionless ‘congratulations’ before shutting the door and walking away.

When you got out of the car— still in disbelief and in confusion— you hyperfocus on how your parking was too askew that it took two spots in the lot.

You inwardly groan as the fact that you can legally be incarcerated now for driving above the speed limit when you’re late for class start to sink in more.

Your mom would probably be so giddy once you meet her at the waiting area, carrying that tiny white slip that had ‘temporary license�� plastered across it, since she’s not going to pay for driving school anymore, plus the fact that she’ll be free from having to drive you to school and around the city anymore.

To be honest, you weren’t planning for it to end like this. You– no you and James– actually had the perfect plan months prior. Test day would be on the twenty-fifth. You’d go around town by the twenty-sixth to go get party supplies, groceries for dishes he wanted to cook, and order his cake for pickup the day after. Then on his birthday, twenty-seventh of March, You’d come over to the Potter house to celebrate with everyone, and before the day ends, you’ll drive him around San Francisco. You’ll both pretend to be tourists, joining the crowd of visitors as they marvel at the city’s popular spots, as if you and James didn’t grow up having these places a short drive away.

You love your home. Even with the everpresent traffic, lack of decent parking, and ridiculous prices of nearly everything the city sports, going home to the suburbs everyday provided balance. ‘We have the best of both worlds’, James would say. ‘We both can go out and be whoever we want in the city, but we still have the familiar quiet to go home to.’

He made loving this place easier— even if you can’t walk to the nearest McDonalds anymore since it’s a good drive away, far from having your old school, the library, the park, and a Walmart being in the same plaza back in your former suburb, a few minutes away from Los Angeles. Everything was more spaced out here, but you never felt the gaps in between destinations. You didn’t need to, especially when there’s always James, his beloved blue Chevy pickup he inherited from Monty for his fifteenth birthday, and his endless stories about football team practice that day or the most recent shenanigans Sirius and him had devised during Minnie’s AP English class, that kept you company.

You grew to love this place as much you did home. So much so that you never considered leaving, while James apparently did.

“Y/N, do you still have somewhere to go? I’m heading in.” Your mom says as she taps on your window, shaking you from your reverie. You got home a while ago. She finished unloading all the groceries from the back to the kitchen inside. Those were multiple trips back and forth, yet you never noticed. A cold breeze runs past you despite the closed windows and you shiver. Not this again.

Rolling down your window, you give her the best smile you can muster up. “You can go ahead, Mom. I’ll try to drive around a bit on my own, you know, for practice.” You throw in an awkward chuckle hoping it was convincing enough for her to let you go.

“Don’t go too far now, it’s getting dark. Be back for dinner.”

You give her a nod and a smile. You wonder if she knew why, but you appreciate her for not prodding. You don’t even know why you’re acting like this.

After circling your block for the third time, you decide to park the car under a willow tree, taking time and effort to park flush against the curb for no reason at all. You just think maybe somewhere, somehow, a familiar voice will pop up behind you and gush about your near-perfect parking skills.

It was, what, two months ago?, that you saw that car sticker on James’ Etsy cart that said ‘cute girls hit curbs’. It was right after a (semi-successful) driving session after school, and James decided that it was a parallel parking day. He had knowingly directed you to a busy city street, where the only available parking was street parking, and everyone seemed to get the memo of his evil agenda and parked irregularly, leaving you with little to no choice but to squeeze your mom’s family van in between them.

With a number of curb hitting that would’ve sent your mother’s insurance agent to consider hiking up prices just for the fact, you were close to tears.

James was quick to drop his teasing smirk as he saw how your face fell, dejected. With a warm smile, he placed a hand on your shoulder and gently reassured you, 'Hey, you did this perfectly on your own a few hours ago, you got this, doll.”

“No, James,” you choke out, trying to stifle down the sobs down your throat. Someone honks behind you, and your body took it as a cue to start hyperventilating, the shivers making its way down the nimble fingers clutching the wheel hard. “I don’t think I can, there’s so many cars—”.

James was quick to roll down his window to gesture something to the other car. Could be an expletive to tell them to fuck off or a kind wave to tell them to go ahead (James could’ve easily done both), but the car moves away nonetheless, returning you both back to the earlier predicament.

He tried to redirect your attention back to him without touching you, nicknames and encouraging words leaving his mouth out of habit. He learned from past experiences that in moments where you get overwhelmed with something, touch could either jolt you back to him or spur on a full on panic attack. His attempts were futile, however, as you were too entranced by watching the side mirror closest to you, flinching each time a car passes the van, even making it lurch forward if the oncoming traffic goes too fast and too close.

Unbuckling his seatbelt and placing the car on park in quick succession, he reached over the console and gently cupped your face in both his hands, tilting your chin up to meet his soft hazel gaze. James had always looked intimidating; the most rambunctious one in his kindergarten class, the one who stood up against taller students that pick on the quiet ones, and once the growth spurt kicked in he quickly rose up the ranks, from little league to your magnet high school’s uber-selective football team.

But he also had the kindest of eyes, those precious ones where you don’t even have to look hard and wonder what they’re feeling as it provides a window straight to their soul. It’s always a gift to feel his gaze on you, to have the privilege of knowing where the seven tiny specks of green in each iris merge with the honey brown.

He gently cupped your face in both hands, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “Eyes on me, pretty.”

James’ best trait was not patience, both of you had established that when you met in middle school. But when he got to know you and your tender-hearted nature, he tried his damndest to learn how. It’s crazy to think how much time spent in love can change a person inherently. You could’ve met James right then and there, and think he’s a natural.

You shift your focus on his warm palms on your trembling cheeks, on his steady breathing. It slowed yours and soon became in sync with his. “There’s my girl. Let’s try again, hm? I'll guide you through it.”

Compelled by a mystical force, likely strong love and devotion to the boy who sat beside you, who looked at you like you’re capable of doing all things beautifully (one of which is parallel parking, apparently), you found yourself behind the wheel again with renewed vigor.

As you carefully edged the car towards the parking spot, James leaned over, his hand lightly resting on your thigh. “A little to the left,” he murmured.

“Turn the wheel slowly.”

Firm hand on your shoulder, his steady presence gave you confidence to make adjustments based on your gut. “You're doing great, love.” You couldn’t see, but you felt the smile in James’ voice.

Before you knew it, you were parked, albeit a snug fit. You heard shuffling, then you were wrapped in a tight embrace, bodies twisted in weird angles because you both forgot that unbuckling the belts were an option. “Knew you could do it, baby.”

You tried to throw some light punches to his chest despite your difficult position. “I still hate you for subjecting me to Geary street traffic.”

“Gotta throw you out on the deep end to learn how to swim!” he’d said, earning him a slap on the chest.

You laughed at that time, but maybe you should’ve taken that as a hint to what came next.

To kill time, you decide to take a picture of your temporary license and edit it for an instagram story.

You get more and more lost through pictures and stories posted, trying to forget what you saw, that you forgot why you opened the app in the first place.

You wished, during the driving lessons, that you’d bothered to ask him, not only how to yield for an unprotected turn but also to live without him. So that you can make the most out of your senior year. So that you can drive around San Francisco without lugging a heavy heart. So that you could write songs again that weren’t about loss. So that you could be okay now that he’s gone.

Mom says he’s not gone gone. He’s just off to college. You would be, too, soon enough. You could go to Yale too so you can be together. You give her a nod to satisfy her, to let her know it was something you’re considering; but in all honesty, you just wanted her to stop.

You and James weren’t perfect. There were ugly fights and soaked pillows and days spent without talk, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything better. You learned to finally befriend life because hatred was just too consuming to carry everyday. It was replaced with something bright and lovely you can carry around to keep you company. You’ve never felt anything remotely similar to it before. Somehow, someway, the warmth always came by when James was with you.

One night while laying in his bed, after a long session of application essay revision, he tells you that Sirius broke off his long-term relationship because of college.

“What, why?”

He shrugs. “They’re heading to different ones.”

You were waiting for more details but he remained silent. “Just because of that?” You laugh. “That’s dumb.”

Now it was his turn to ask. “Why’s that?”

“It’s just college, Jamie. It’s just like when we go spend the holidays or summers with family. We don’t break up. We work around it. Because we know it’s not permanent. Nothing worth ruining a good relationship over.” You scoff, shifting your gaze from his hazel eyes to the white of your ceiling. “What a waste, I actually thought they were it for each other.”

He was silent. You turned to face him and he just gazed at you with an unreadable expression. “We’ll make it work like we always did, right, Jamie?”

He kissed your forehead in response. “Always.”

That was six months ago.

Your knuckles turn white, a stark contrast to the black leather as you clutch the wheel as hard as you can. You could barely see through the tears that run uncontrollably down your cheeks.

How can he be so okay now that I’m gone?

You floor the brakes hard, flinging yourself forward before getting yanked back by the seatbelt. Some kid had kicked their red and gold striped ball towards the street.

“Sorry!” You wave at the kids, signalling that it was okay. That they didn’t just give you a heart attack right then and there.

You wipe your tears away in haste. It’s probably time to head home. Maybe these rogue feelings were just due to your sugar levels dropping, making both your mind and vision hazy.

But when you check your left if there’s something there you could hit, your eyes get caught on a familiar view.

The Potter house. Same as before. It’s almost as if he’d go barreling out the doors to meet you outside, envelop you into a bear hug, and spin until you both feel dizzy with laughter. Now, his bedroom’s dark. A reminder that he’s not there. Your Jamie isn’t home anymore.

You head back to your house for dinner.

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