#childe fics
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At his ripe age for marriage, Emperor Shiva ought to be more concerned with finding a wife than he is with a letter he held between his thumb and forefinger while standing in a state of shock. His birthday banquet is in two days; he should have busied himself overseeing the décor preparations and entertainment for the overseas guests, not clamping his jaw, crumpling the paper into a ball, and throwing it angrily.
"Childe.. how dare he..!" Shiva shouted, turning to face his confidant. "How dare he do something so... vile!"
From his outraged reaction, the confidant deduced that Emperor Childe had done something as awful as stab him in the back. That seems to be what he would do. But he recalled the rumors that the Snezhnayan ruler had put to death a number of his nobles for grave defamation of Liyue. He was young, yet brave enough to take drastic measures for the crimes committed during his reign. If he still harbored secretly wicked intentions toward the great Liyue empire, he shouldn't have bothered to do that, right?
So, the confidant ventured to ask: "Your Majesty, is everything all right?"
“Are you blind? Of course not!" He shoved the paper against his confidant's chest and paced back and forth in uneasiness as he waited for him to finish reading.
The handwriting was neat, still easy to read even though the paper was crumpled—thanks to Shiva. Although Liu—the poor confidant's name—kept sweeping his eyes, he couldn't help but feel guilty for reading private letters written by other people to other people. Thinking that this should only be a conversation between the Empress of Snezhnaya and the Emperor of Liyue didn't help either.
Nothing you've written is unfavorable; nothing even remotely resembles a threat or your mention of any mistreatment. It merely contained your sincere apologies to Shiva for having to send someone to attend on your and Childe's behalf, and for being unable to go due to severe morning sickness, which is typical of pregnancy's second trimester. His eyes widen. That's surprising, nonetheless, not a bad thing. He congratulated you in his heart.
Liu furrowed his brows, lowering the letter to stare at the Emperor. “Your Majesty?” he called.
Shiva halted in mid-step and fixed him with piercing eyes. "Have you read it?" His voice was firm, demanding.
“Yes, I have, but I..” When Liu sensed Shiva's intense gaze, he paused and let his words hang. As he once more held the letter up, he forced a hard swallow. “Apologies, perhaps I missed a point—”
"She's pregnant.”
Liu paused once more as his mind tried to make sense of anything. "She's pregnant." His mind went over the two phrases, trying to find something vile out of it. He stopped thinking when he felt his scalp heat up. Was this supposed to be a riddle? Before he could answer (and risk himself for failing to understand once again), Shiva blew a harsh breath from his mouth. He clenched his fists tightly, popping the veins under his skin. His handsome face were tarnished by a wrath that Liu couldn't place.
"She's pregnant. He impregnated her.” Shiva made sure to emphasize the “he” part.
From all the emphasis on his words and the movement of his fingers to accentuate everything, Liu still couldn't understand; at this point he believed he had suddenly lost his intelligence and was left with only one very overworked brain cell. He would grow wrinkles from furrowing his brows for the umpteenth time. Shiva took another sharp breath before pacing back and forth.
"Congratulations to the Emperor and Empress of Snezhnaya..?" Liu said doubtfully.
Shiva shook his head vigorously. So, it wasn't a congratulation he wanted to hear. Liu followed the Emperor briskly into his dressing room, where he saw him pick up a luggage and place it on the crimson couch. Like a madman, he took most of his clothes and stuffed it all in without even bothering to fold it properly. His confidant hastily stopped him.
“Your Majesty, what are you doing?”
The long-haired man grabbed his sword from the display and swung it open too fast that he nearly struck Liu. "I have to go to Snezhnaya." He spoke while looking at the steel and his reflection in it.
"What?!" Liu's heart skipped a beat as he hadn't expected his intonation to be that loud. He cleared his throat, then corrected: “Apologies, Your Majesty. But, are you sure?"
"Yes. Bring the maids here to prepare my belongings.” Shiva gave up trying to get all of his clothes into one luggage. He slowly placed his sword on his bed and rested his palms on his hips.
"But what of your birthday banquet in two days' time?”
“Ah, you're right.” Liu almost breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that Shiva had returned to his right mind. Shiva's next words dashed those expectations, however, as he chose to open his mouth and utter, "Send out a letter to everyone, informing them that the banquet is canceled! I shall spend my birthday week in Snezhnaya."
“B-But, Your Majesty!”
“Now, fetch me the maids. I must cleanse myself and my belongings require to be packed.” Shiva commanded as he took off his robe, leaving only his trousers on. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror but noticed that Liu hadn’t left the room. In response, the Emperor’s head rotated sharply, and his gaze went over to him with an intense expression. “What are you waiting for? Hurry and summon the maids!” he snapped.
With a huff, Liu hastily left the room and almost slipped (he cursed himself for being so unfortunate today). Maids came soon after in a rush, some preparing a warm bath for Shiva, while other maidens packed his belongings quickly and efficiently without daring to ask questions; no one ever dared to question the things Emperor Shiva did, even if they were rather illogical to the normal mind.
The news of your brother’s impromptu visit was relayed to you by Countess Sasha, who entered your reading room, bowed, and stated that Emperor Shiva was now residing within the Emerald Palace. You raised your eyebrows in surprise as you considered this revelation. Previously, during every trip to Snezhnaya, Shiva had always decided to live in the mansion he owned rather than the palace grounds. As you set down your book, you attempted to stand upright from your seated position with the assistance of Ksenia and Laura, who were each clasping one of your hands.
Your face remained puzzled, with questions about the sudden change. Why? Wasn’t there a birthday banquet scheduled for the very next day?
The sound of Sasha’s footsteps came closer before she knelt down next to you. “How are you, my lady?” Sasha inquired softly. “Does the queasiness still trouble?”
You paused for a moment to feel your body, then shook your head with a smile. “It has subsided,” you replied. Taking Laura’s hand for support, you rose from your chair.
Sasha noticed your movements and straightened respectfully. “Should you wish an audience with Emperor Shiva, may I suggest inviting him here instead of embarking on the long journey to the Emerald Palace?” Her voice was full of worry, but you couldn’t help but sigh at her words.
“Sasha, I’m with child, not on the verge of perishing,”
The Countess swiftly shook her head as she spoke. “Of course, I did not intend to imply that it was otherwise,” she hurriedly said. “however, it was His Majesty who had directed me to look after you well.” She explained, her tone coming across with genuine care and concern.
“Oh, fantastic. I can hardly break free from his shackles, can I?”
You conveyed your protest half-heartedly. The Queen Dowager had informed you that it was normal to feel dependent and in need of help while pregnant (it is an extremely significant and sensitive time for women). However, there was a stark contrast between her words and reality; it was Childe who irritated you with how much he always wanted to be by your side more than was necessary. You failed to keep track of the innumerable instances he told you that you needn’t be concerned since he possessed the knowledge and experience from his mother's pregnancy when she was expecting Teucer; however, he continued to perspire and ordered Dmitri to call for the healer each and every time you throw up from the morning sickness in the early hours.
You grimace. Upon further reflection, Dmitri deserves to receive a full year of paid leave. Even under Childe's pressure, he had performed admirably.
“Your Majesty.” Sasha stepped closer to the door and gave a warning, her frown deepening and dipping in displeasure at your defiant behavior. She was certain that if this kept up, she would age faster.
“Come now, Countess, there’s no need to worry,” You soothed, glancing down fondly at your growing belly. “You seem to forget that this child's father is Tartaglia – do you truly believe a stroll through the gardens would cause us harm?”
You caressed your swollen middle affectionately. “However, do pass me my coat, won't you? It seems the babe has inherited their mother's weakness for this country's chill autumn airs.” You continued, watching as Ksenia hurriedly grabbed a coat for you.
Ultimately, despite her doubts and a heavy heart, Sasha let you walk to see your brother. You slowly made your way out of your room and down the Golden Spire palace's lengthy hallway. Indeed, the building where the emperor and empress lived was beautiful, with the ceiling covered in intricate gold filigree work and light streaming into the hallway, illuminating the entire area. Even the pillars, which have stood for hundreds of years, still looked strong and exquisitely polished. However, the everyday scenery is quickly replaced by the stunning autumn setting as soon as you reach outside. Golden rays of the sun filter through the colorful trees and bring a warm glow to the imperial grounds. You stopped after you stepped on dry leaves, the pleasant crinkling sound of them causing a smile to tug at the corners of your lips.
“Is something the matter, Your Majesty?” As you guessed, Sasha hurriedly approached you.
“No.” You answered her while stroking your growing stomach greeting the small kick inside. With your eyes squinted from the glare of the sun, you catch another two dry leaves falling tossing and turning before they hit the ground. “Autumn is coming to an end.”
Your remark caused the three ladies-in-waiting to glance at the garden's big oak tree. “Indeed, Your Majesty.” Sasha replied to you.
“Winter is coming.” you mused again, the imperial physician's words echoed once more - the child would be a winter-born. Soon, very soon, you would hold your son or daughter in your arms at last.
Sasha nodded. “That's right,” she paused, then furrowed her brows, curious and concerned. “Is something wrong, Your Majesty?” She watched you smile before suddenly resuming your steps, requiring your ladies-in-waiting to hurriedly follow you.
The Emerald Palace building comes into sight. You noticed the vibrant blooms had faded, their petals falling to join the fiery leaves carpeting the grounds. The gurgling of water from a three-tier fountain could be heard. Your footsteps slowed at a polished figure seated solitary, chin raised with calm pride over steaming tea under a shady tree—from his posture, you easily recognized your older brother and proceeded to approach him.
“Brother.”
From that familiar voice, the young emperor turned his head sharply. (Y/N). He raked his gaze over her starting from her head—not much had changed from her hair being longer than the last time he saw her; her face was still as beautiful as before. Those luscious lips of hers should have been proof enough that somehow that bastard Tartaglia wasn't treating her badly (but Shiva knew he couldn't be too sure, after all this was Tartaglia he was talking about). His gaze, cold and flinty, traveled lower.
There, roundness was unmistakably forming where antes there had been flatness. Shiva’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as confirmation of his worst fears stared back at him—the telltale swell and curve of your belly, stretched taut with new life. His scowl twisted into a snarl.
“(Y/N).” Your name came out as a growl. “So the news is true. You carry that cad Tartaglia's spawn.” His lips curled in disgust.
A sigh escaped your lips. “His Majesty the Emperor is my husband, brother. Did you come all this way without a word, disrupting your duties, just to weigh down the father of your future niece or nephew?” You replied calmly.
Myriad full moons have come and passed, yet you remain the epitome of a lady who possessed the control and mastery over her emotions. In the past, it was a source of pride to Shiva from how you refused to break under any pressure—that if anyone wanted to find a flaw in you, their failure was all that could be found. But, now that he met your gaze with a flare of his own eyes, it irked him how you could remain so infuriatingly calm when he wanted to stir strong emotions.
“You concluded correctly, sister. My purpose is precisely to weigh that tyrant," he replied tersely. “He is unworthy of one like you. To think, my esteemed sister reduced to bearing the offspring of a mere war dog."
You gazed steadily at your brother, trying to keep a reign on your rising frustration. As Empress, you are well-practiced in diplomacy. But with family, diplomacy sometimes feels like a losing battle.
Taking a measured breath, you speak in a soft yet unyielding tone. “Ajax may have been a warrior in his youth, but he is so no longer, his battle-days are behind him. As the Emperor of Snezhnaya, he is a skilled ruler and has treated me with nothing but love and respect.”
If Shiva insists on continuing this argument, you swear—oh, you swear on God's name—to turn and walk away from him. No matter that he traveled all the way from Liyue and abandoned the birthday banquet that he called off (based on the information that Sasha brought), you're feeling the effects of the physical changes on your body and worry that you won't be able to handle much more. The babe is restless and your patience wearing thin. Another cutting remark and you might do something unwise.
Shiva was about to part his lips, and you braced yourself to hear more nonsense from him. He puffed himself like a pufferfish ready to strike, his facial expression wild and you wondered what was going on inside his head.
“I shall demand Tartaglia face me in single combat at once! For putting you in such a condition without my consent!”
You release a long-suffering sigh, one delicate hand lifted to press gloved fingers against furrowed brow. “For heaven's sake, brothers, husbands and wives tend to produce children without their siblings' approval. It's the natural way of things.”
“But you are the princess! And my sister!” Shiva sputtered. “No man touches you without my say-so!”
You massaged the bridge of your nose. “Shiva, I was married off with full blessings; and I'm an Empress now, with duties and affections of my own. Must you act stupid all the time? The child kicks as we speak, eager to meet the world, and you insist on this nonsense?” Your patience drips faster with every word Shiva says.
“He must answer for impregnating you!”
You throw your hands to the sky with failing patience. “For the love of—I'm just as responsible, you twit! Now either you end this stupidity or board the next ship before I brain you with this teapot.”
The Liyuean emperor was about to respond once more when you shot him a pointed look that silenced him for a thousand words. Shiva—the imposing and menacing Shiva—now visibly deflated like a sad balloon; anyone watching might have mistaken him for a large, pouting child rather than the mighty emperor of Liyue. His looming form seemed to shrink in on itself, broad shoulders curling forward and thick eyebrows kitting into a hurt frown.
Feeling your anger subside, you exhale bringing the last of your irritation out of your body, ready for a calmer, more reasonable conversation. “Come now, brother,” you started. “Stop sulking like a child. While you are here, I want to spend some good time with you. I've missed your company.”
Reaching out, you grabbed his larger hand trying to cheer him up. “Now then, why is it you've stayed inside the palace this time, instead of your favorite mansion as usual? Did something happen there?” You asked, your eyes narrowed with curiosity.
It was unusual for Shiva to leave the privacy of his mansion, settling at the Emerald Palace instead. It was always his habit to keep himself as far away from the radius of the Snezhnaya royal—imperial, now—family as possible. Or perhaps, as difficult as it was for your towering brother to admit, he simply wanted to spend more time with you during this visit. With a child soon to arrive, everyone will need the bonds of kinship to thrive; Shiva may have long assumed that your parents would not be on your list of expected family members, judging by your complicated relationship with your Liyuean family—duty and tradition often take precedence over emotional bonds. Shiva is the only one left as that anchor of familial closeness now more than ever.
Shiva cleared his throat gruffly, tugging at his ornate collar as if suddenly feeling confined. “Well, you know how it is. Can’t have you and that man multiplying willy-nilly before this one’s arrival, now can we?”
Your eyebrows fell in the flat, annoyed face you showed him. “Shiva, I say this with affection—producing children does not work that way.”
A hint of pink surfaced on his stately cheekbones. “Nonsense, I know precisely how these matters work. My informants keep me well-apprised.”
"Do they?" You raise a slender brow. “Somehow I doubt your informants' ‘updates' covered the specifics of pregnancy.”
Shiva harrumphed. “But, how then do twins come to be if not two planted at a time?”
You stifled a laugh. “The seed of twins quickens together through some quirk of nature, not… repetitive activities, as you suggest. One pregnancy, two babes—a blessing, not a strategy.”
The imposing Emperor of Liyue—tall and broad-shouldered, with chiseled features any sculptor with covet; yet, for all his power and prestige, in some ways, Shiva would always be the same. Small wonder the ladies of the court were forever vying for his attention, with but a glance and rumbling baritone, Shiva could make even the most steadfast knees quake. His valor in battle was legendary throughout Teyvat. As Emperor of Liyue, he commanded absolute obedience through dominance, vigilance, and cunning.
Yet for all his strength, domestic minutiae proved his bane. You have long grown accustomed to gently schooling him about the softer side of life. Babes, intimacy, and vulnerability were mystical puzzles to your pragmatic brother. They reminded you that for all his power and influence, at heart he remained your big brother. The same big brother who skipped etiquette class to play with you.
"Hmm.." Shiva stroked his imaginary beard. “There is still the matter of your… husband.”
You sigh. “Again?” This time, you turn your shoes to turn the other way. The wind was too cold and your legs were too sore to have this conversation anymore.
Shiva walked quickly to catch up with you. “He had best treated you well in your condition.” He grumbled, eyes hard as granite.
“Ajax dotes on me, as always.” Sometimes it's even too close to smothering; you wanted to add anything but didn't, out of concern that somehow Shiva will magically take this as a literal complaint. "But I thank you for your concern, brother."
The last rays of sunlight were fading fast as clouds deepened its shades of gray across the Emerald Palace gardens. You gazed around appreciatively, taking in the seasonal beauty of falling leaves. Auburn and scarlet leaves swirled upon currents of chilly air, coating lawns and paths in a blanket of faded color. Your breath misted before your plump lips in the dropping temperatures. As if sensing your discomfort, the babe within shifted and stretched, seeking warmth.
"It grows dark, and this cold will not do for anyone in my state," You looked at Shiva with a soft smile. “Walk with me back inside, brother? I believe a nice cup of hot tea by the fire is in order.”
The Liyuean emperor glanced down with a concerned frown, noticing the loss of color on your lips. Gently, Shiva opened his powerful palms to receive your smaller fingers upon his forearms. Even through the fabric, you could feel the waves of his inner furnace warming your skin.
“Fragile as a newborn bird.” He grumbled, though care dwelt in his stern gaze.
Leaning upon his sturdy frame, the two of you began the slow walk back to comforts within. The sunlight was getting dimmer. As shadows engulfed the gardens, the wind howled more fiercely through emerging tree branches, abandoning its playful mood. You bury your nose into your upturned collar, breathing in its lingering scent of sandalwood and spice. Despite all of that, Shiva still makes sure that his steps are not so wide that you struggle to match his. Slow and careful is better.
"Watch your step. Lean upon me if you're worried—it's better than the chance of a stumble or fall.”
Your heart swells at his fussy care, unsurprised though deeply touched. Fierce emperor he is, yet where family is, lies the same tender heart of your childhood, still beating sure and strong. This was far from new—from your earliest memories, it was Shiva who swept you into strong arms when storms raged, telling tales until even lightning's flash seemed like a play.
Little Shiva often gets reprimanded for "teaching" his sister to climb the ancient pine tree to retrieve his favorite celestial crab toy that got stuck high in the branches. Naughty girl climbs like a little monkey, but then too scared to come down. Big brother Shiva climbs up to save you, and you both end up having ears pulled by the caretaker Gong Gong for damaging boughs older than even their venerable dynasty.
The final step up the steps of the main palace is taken and closes your long journey to reach here. Home at last. You sigh contentedly, rubbing your belly where a new life stirred. Gazing up at the towering figure who has guided you since birth, you feel a surge of gratitude and safety wrap around you like a cashmere shawl.
Rain began to pelt the earth outside the window. A faint, untamed wind entered through the open door and caused the fire to dance before it was shut.
No matter what storms life sent your way, you knew without a doubt that your steadfast brother would always stand like a great pine, sheltering you under the boughs of his protection. Some things, it seemed, did not change even with time's passage. As you are led to refresh yourself by the fire, you send up a silent prayer of thanks for the brother who was, and always will be, your greatest protector under heaven.
It was raining outside.
Being a Snezhnayan-born, he was unaffected by snowstorms even. He recalled boyhood winters where ice-cold feet covered in white had become a habit, and hypothermia had repeatedly passed by his mother's reprimands because little Ajax had played outside for too long. He often said the cold didn't bother him, and the Queen at that time responded with another string of stern lectures about mortal limits. "You may have thick skin and tough bones, but no man can contest with nature in her fury," she always said.
It was raining outside.
As the council droned on around discussions of trade routes and border disputes, the Emperor's focus wavered again to the pounding rain. Some part of him will always find solace in storms' primal rhythms, recalling simpler days playing in the palace white gardens.
But now another occupied his thoughts, and this autumn downpour no longer held nostalgia—just a chill that he knew she wasn't bred to withstand. His wife, you, the Empress, possessed a Liyuean's preference for temperate climates and was not so adapted to cold and damp. Frown found him easily. And with child too now, each storm brought new cause for concern.
Childe wonders what you're doing as the heavens open their floodgates. Resting as suggested, tucked cozily by the fire under layers of blankets? Or do you insist on wandering, eagle-eyed handmaidens fretting while you trailed damp slippers through resplendent halls? Childe knows how stubborn you are, and he also knows your ladies-in-waiting have laid down life itself if harm threatens their empress or babe. Still, he is unable to subdue his inclinations.
Perhaps a visit was in order.
As the discussion continued, Childe glanced at his confidant, Dmitri. The young, diligent, man lends a keen ear to the proceedings, a pen scratching next to a pile of notebook paper.
Childe knew that if he was suggested to leave the council meeting to see his empress, he would be met with disgruntlement from him. Dmitri took his duties as confidant seriously, and interrupting state affairs for personal reasons went against propriety. Sure enough, he could already hear a series of protests. “Your Majesty, the generals are presenting vital information. This is not the time for idle social calls.” Or perhaps, “The Empress will understand your devotion to duty, sire. Go to her when business is concluded.”
But Dmitri's words would fall on deaf ears as always, anyway. If it came to you, Childe was ruled by heart far more than head. And his heart now beats in worry for your comfort in this unruly weather. So, let Dmitri shout until he was hoarse. Your smile is worth any scolding. And the baby… oh, how he longed to feel those tiny kicks against his big palms.
Just as General Gorin slowly rose to present his next point, Childe waved his hand and smoothly cut in. “Gentlemen, I am grateful for all the insights that have been shared so far. However, more pressing matters now demanded my attention. Let's end today's meeting and continue planning tomorrow.”
Surprised murmurs filled the room as the Emperor rose, meeting already ended without warning. Dmitri shot Childe a pointed look asking clearer than words – “Pressing matters, Your Majesty? What matters could possibly arise now?” He asked full of confusion, but a suspicion and guess was hidden underneath.
Childe merely flashed his confidant a guileless smile and shrugged without a care. “Family matters. You understand this.”
Oh, Dmitri understands it all too well. The confidant has long been accustomed to his emperor's whims wherever it concerns his empress. How he understood the depth of Childe's devotion to you.
Like that inspection of new naval defenses, where one of your ladies-in-waiting's arrival brings news of your headache turning Childe on his heel, meeting forgotten. General Gorin’s rage at disrupted schedules took moons to subside.
Or that time, yet another council meeting was thrown into disarray by Childe's protectiveness of you. The advisers had gathered to discuss border security when suddenly, the Emperor shot up from his seat said an urgent matter had arisen, and they should continue the discussion among themselves. Sure enough, they soon learned the “urgent matter” was that you insisted on taking a walk around the garden that afternoon. One of your maidens had come to notify Childe, worried you might tire yourself from the early stages of your pregnancy.
Not that Childe neglected his duties—somehow he always resolved imperial affairs with his usual flare, despite his distracted heart. But propriety and practicality demand that protocols be adhered to! What if an urgent vote is needed, or a treaty is signed, in his hasty absence? He understood, truly understood his emperor's loyalty to the family. But, as a confidant, it grew tiresome to have to have strategic discussions interrupted at vital moments just because the Emperor “just wanted to check on her.”
With a tired sigh, Dmitri forced himself to speed up his pace to match Childe's determined strides through the palace halls. “There is one other matter requiring your attention, Your Majesty.”
Childe threw him a sideways glance, blue eyes sharpening. “Out with it, Dmitri.” He demanded.
“Emperor Shiva of Liyue is presently within the palace walls,” Dmitri stated.
The Emperor halted abruptly, whipping to face his advisor with eyes like a blade drawn. “And you didn't tell me sooner, Boyar?”
Dmitri bowed in contrition. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I just received word upon leaving the council chambers. It seems that the Liyue ruler came unannounced, desiring an audience solely with Her Majesty the Empress.”
Childe’s scowl spoke volumes on his fraught relationship with your overprotective brother. While necessity forged an alliance, personal warmth was lacking between the proud rulers. Shiva saw himself your guardian first, diplomacy second. And the prospect of his beloved sister bearing children for an “outsider” emperor did little to endear. Many cold stares had passed between the men in your presence.
The young emperor resumed his long strides, lips pursed in a hard line. “Where is he now?”
His confidant hastened to keep up. “From words of the guards, the Empress welcomed her brother into the Emerald Palace gardens. But seeing storm clouds gather, they retired to Her Majesty's private drawing room for tea indoors." Dmitri answered.
The scowls on his handsome face deepened. Childe made long, purposeful strides down the gleaming palace halls, cape billowing behind him like the stormclouds overhead. Servants scattered from his frigid aura, wise people try to avoid his presence. Dmitri behind him followed hurriedly, trying to catch air with ragged breaths.
Poor young man. The more they approached the chamber, the more Dmitri's mind raced frenziedly considering all potential scenarios and consequences. While his Emperor maintained cordial smiles in public, that gleaming blade swung beneath could destroy the unwise. He knew well Childe's mercurial nature—charming one moment, savage the next if challenged. Combined with Shiva's openly imperious streak, this encounter has disaster written in its stars.
By the time the duo reached the chamber doors, sweat dripped down Dmitri's pale face. Taking a moment to compose himself, he sent up a fervent prayer to any deity listening.
All his diplomatic prowess seemed like tattered silk amidst the hurricane that was about to collide in the drawing room. Only one held the power to steer these storms to calmer waters—Her Majesty Empress (Y/N). Time and again, Dmitri has seen you easily maneuver the most stubborn of men to your will, employing but a look or word. If fortune is on his side, perhaps your radiant presence has calmed their ruffled quills within.
The guards straightened as Childe's purposeful steps stopped right in front of the towering door. With a practiced announcement, the first cried:
“Announcing the arrival of His Majesty, Childe, Sovereign Emperor of Snezhnaya!”
Instantly, the heavy portals swung inward under the straining muscles, hinges moving as smoothly as the tides. Inside, soft lamplight bathes a tapestry scene of tranquility. Marble floors gleamed ahead, inviting new visitors into the drawing room.
From the presence of two new people, you looked up from your tea. "Ajax, you've come!" Your beautiful face lit up with joy upon seeing Childe enter.
Your beaming smile helped ease tension from Childe's rigid frame. Walking over, he went to your side and took your hand in his. “Wife,” he greeted, smiling lips placing a kiss on your knuckles. You truly are his sun, chasing away all the shadows in his soul and decorating his heart with gold carvings.
Ah, right.
Although resentment still simmered within at Shiva's unwelcome visit, Childe knew very well the game had to be played. So, with considered effort, he molded his expression into a faux friendliness. The smile rings the bells of falsity to those closely observing, but to the untrained eye, it may pass.
Turning to Shiva, Childe addressed him in smooth tones, “Brother,” he said, feeling like cutting off his own tongue. “It's been too long.”
Shiva's return greeting comes short with an absence of warmth. Leveling Childe with an unwavering stare, he replied, “Indeed. Though some absences feel shorter than others.”
A hint of irritation flashed across Childe's features at Shiva's sly jab. But, years of training to become Snezhnaya's future successor had schooled his temper. A mirthless chuckle rose from his throat as he replied.
“Brother, ever the lapdog snapping at anything that moves without caring for the mess left behind. Is solitude wearing on you? No wonder you ache for stimulation.”
Shiva’s eyes flashed at the provocation. “Careful little wolf, your words reveal more about yourself than I,” he retorted coolly. “At least I don’t go snarling rabidly at any who threaten my fleas. Liyue has prospered without incident under my watch. Can the same be said for your frozen wasteland?”
Childe's faux-smile vanished, the mask evaporates revealing the devil beneath. “Snezhnaya has thrived despite constant meddling from supposed ‘allies.’ Perhaps if certain neighbors attended their own affairs instead of sniffing mine, they'd find less cause for petty complaints.” He gritted his teeth.
Shiva scoffed. “It must sting that even your neighbors consider you an annoyance.”
As the emperors' argument grew more heated, your expression changed from beaming joy to stern annoyance.
“Enough, both of you.” Your voice rang clearly, cutting through the tension and instantly capturing their attention. Those beautiful eyes, usually warm as spring sun, now glinted cool. “Honestly, I expected more maturity from my husband and brother. If you have problems remaining civil, remove yourselves from my presence.”
At your sharp words, both Childe and Shiva looked abashed, like puppies being scolded from tearing pillows, tails wagging between their legs. You had united two nations through their marriage where once only hostility stood; yet now the proud rulers of two empires are quarreling in what should be a quiet evening full of warm tea and fires. With a weary sigh, you massage your temples as if you were physically hurt by their foolishness.
You see Shiva about to open his mouth to deliver another biting retort—always wanting to have the last word—but, with a sharp stare, his jaw closes again.
"Say another word and you will regret it." you are warned in a low tone laced with threats.
With a lovely smile on his lips, Childe turned to you, hoping to win you over to his side. “Angel,” he purred, brushing a tender kiss to your knuckles—Shiva wanted to spill his guts at the sight. “You know how your brother enjoys provoking me. I meant no disrespect.”
Shiva scoffed but dared not test his luck with your anger still on him. Childe ignored the sound, focusing completely on appeasing his wife.
You narrowed your eyes. "You're not completely innocent in this, Ajax." You reminded him.
“But, love—”
Childe was interrupted when you raised your index finger to shush him. "And I've thought about it for a while," you say, pausing to get both men's attention with your poignant tone. “We'll use the duration of Shiva's stay here as time for you to reconnect without titles between you. As family, not rulers. Which is why you and Shiva will accompany me on my trip to Zelenossosh.”
Immediate protests erupted from both men.
“Spend leisure with him?” Childe grunted, jerking a thumb at Shiva. “You ask too much, love.”
Shiva sneered. “As if I wanted some time alone with the mongrel Emperor and his ilk.”
“Gentlemen, peace, please. And I've decided," you said firmly. “This trip is not optional. We will leave in three days, and you will spend the entire time there bonding over the activities of my choosing. No politics or policies are allowed to be discussed.”
“But sister! This is—”
“(Y/N), anything but—”
A dramatic gasp came out of you, surprising both of them. “Oh my, is it that time already?” You mused, stretching your muscles gracefully, pretending to be tired of your duties. “Ajax, Shiva, please excuse me as I retire for my evening bath. My handmaidens, help an exhausted Empress to her chambers, if you please.”
Your two handmaidens appear, hurry to aid you in your “weariness.” But, the twinkling eyes said otherwise as you smiled over your shoulder.
“Try to get along without me, won't you, Your Majesties?” you said in faux-innocence.
With barely veiled amusement, you watch them tense up at the prospect of forced solo interactions. Chuckling softly to yourself, you walk out with a satisfied smile, escorted by your lovely ladies-in-waiting.
The atmosphere in the room grew thick like sour milk after your absence lifted the veil of politeness. The two men managed to maintain the first ten seconds in silence, avoiding each other's gaze like tomcats dropped in a sack together. Jaws locked. Teeth were gritted and the last bit of patience was running out.
Shiva sat tensely, fingers clenched, creating crescent prints in his palms as he glared daggers at Childe from the corners of his eyes. "This is your doing, Wolf."
Childe snorted, delicate eyebrow arched. “My doing? Tell me, how so.” He met his gaze.
“You intend to poison my sister's mind against me with your honeyed lies,” Shiva hissed.
An ugly sneer curled Childe’s lip. “The only poison here is your constant meddling in affairs that don’t concern you. If you hadn’t come nosing around Snezhnaya again—”
“Nosing around?” Shiva bellowed, face turning purple. “You got my sister pregnant without my permission! How dare you impregnate her without my blessing. What if something had gone wrong, huh? It’s all your fault!”
Childe gritted his teeth, growing frustrated with Shiva's overprotective attitude. “She is my wife, not some decorative pet you own. And do I need to remind you that children are a normal part of marriage, or is it not like that where you come from?”
“Don't twist this to your advantage, wolf,” Shiva stood up from his chair, pointing a slanderous finger at Childe. “I see your game—you made her so early with child to tie her to you forever, admit it!”
Those dull blue eyes gleamed with fury directly above a grin. "Ha! Is this what your deranged mind contemplates consistently?" He crossed his arms and reclined on the couch as his gaze trained on Shiva's emotional turmoil.
“You think to use her body for your ambitions of an heir!”
Breaking through the restraint he possessed, the ginger-haired man swiftly rose to his feet and prowled towards the Liyue Emperor. Though nearly equal in height and build, his explosive temper made him seem to tower over Shiva in that moment. A cruel, wrathful smile twisted his lips as blue orbs darkened with barely contained fury.
“Say that to my face again,” Childe dared in a deadly quiet tone. “It would be my honor to educate that foul tongue of yours once and for all.”
Shiva met his furious gaze, steady as stone. “Withdraw your implication or face the consequences, dog.”
A loud scoff came out of Childe, his famed patience was dragged wildly and almost completely evaporated. Fists clenched tightly, knuckles bleached, straining with the effort to resist lashing out—he knew it would only benefit Shiva, that the Liyue dog would use it as an opportunity to take your sympathy to his side. But every pore and disciplined muscle screams for release, to put this peacock in its place through whatever it takes.
“I've wanted nothing more than to rearrange that handsome face of yours since we met,” Childe threatened, cracking his knuckles with malicious intent.
To his surprise, Shiva threw back his head and laughed—a deep, ironic chuckle. The Liyuean bent over to select a dessert fork laid out on the table. Twirling the utensil dexterously between his long fingers, Shiva straightened his back and shot Childe a look from under lowered lashes.
“Is that so? Well, you’re not entirely wrong—I am rather easy on the eyes.”
“You really want to do this, don't you?” Childe's query didn't seek confirmation, rather, it served as a last warning before he enacted his plan to "resculpt" that stunning jaw into something no better than the monument commemorating the demise of the last Duke of Krykiye, a statue that ultimately ceased to exist due to being considered government treason.
Shiva flashed a shark's smile, dessert fork now hidden in his fist. “Then come – take your best shot, little Emperor. Let's see if your skills live up to that big mouth of yours."
The sly words were the final shards to break Childe's crumbling restraint. Damn it! To damnation with patience and consequences! He vowed, in the name of his late father, to pummel Shiva's appearance, rearranging it until it remained unrecognizable to the point where he could never return to Liyue and rule the empire again. The ideal circumstance is that he would be deported and branded as an impostor claiming to be the Liyue emperor who had “abruptly” disappeared after traveling to Snezhnaya. Go to hell with it all. With a wordless snarl, he lunged, fists flying—
“Sir Dmitri arrived just in time, it seems. His Majesty and Emperor Shiva appeared quite.. animated in their exchange.”
From the news delivered by Sasha, you opened your eyes and raised an eyebrow, not completely surprised. Laura's efforts in lifting your burden all day with her slender fingers massaging your temples and head are wasted on the confirmation of Childe and Shiva returning to their squabbles almost immediately after you departed from their presence. The bathing chambers are luxuriously designed to soothe tired muscles. Floating flower petals in warm water soaking your naked body does little to ease your stress.
"Was anybody hurt?"
You look at Sasha and receive a shake of the head. "Fortunately," you are informed, "Sir Dmitri is quite skilled in managing those types of situations. The two have retired to their personal quarters."
You sigh. “Those foolish men. Put them in one room and watch the entire house burn down.” You said.
Sasha nodded in agreement. “Men will be men, I'm told.”
You relaxed into the pillowy embrace of bubbles, warm water soaking your shoulders, while Laura rinsed the last of the shampoo from your long hair. With a gentle hand, you begin stroking your swollen belly, silently musing at the child growing inside.
“Please don't take after your father and uncle, little one,” you said wryly. “I pray you inherit my calm rather than their hot tempers and their thirst for contention and chaos.”
Countess Sasha chuckled softly at your candid words. “Fate itself knows what traits Snezhnaya's successor will claim. We can only hope that their generosity and diplomacy will outweigh their recklessness.” She spoke, and the ladies shared a grin.
Maybe it's time for you to journey to a temple and make an offering that your pleas would be accepted by the gods. If, by some stroke of luck, your child inherited Childe's free-spirited and spontaneous nature, you were practically certain your hair would turn white within a single night's rest. The capital would be unable to withstand the chaos, and Snezhnaya's enemies would be thrown into confusion by the fall of the empire in a short time—sealing their years of fantasizing about its downfall.
Just then, Ksenia entered the bath chamber and rushed to your side carefully. “Your Majesty, the Emperor requests an audience.” She spoke softly as she knelt beside your bathub.
You raised an eyebrow, sharing an amused glance with Sasha. “Speak of the devil..” You mumbled, then sighed. “Fine, let him in.”
Soon, Childe was swept into the bathroom, still dressed in his royal clothes. His face softened at the sight of you, but then he frowned in confusion at the others. "Why are they all in here?" he asked.
"They kept me good company, unlike certain emperors who desired to declare war every time they met."
Childe huffed. “It wasn't entirely my doing—Shiva provoked me, you know that. If it weren't for my wisdom, we would've come to blows.” He tried to reason.
You raised a skeptical brow. "I was under the impression that Dmitri was the one who intervened and separated you two?"
“Through Dmitri, yes – but his position comes from my leadership. Therefore, the credit is mine.”
A fond yet tired sigh escaped your lips. Truly, managing this Emperor and all the nonsensical things he does is a feat in itself. When others only see him as nothing more than his pretty surface, you take the time to discern what's bothering him underneath, allowing your steady voice to help guide him to calmer ports. His charisma and strategic mind have garnered a lot of respect; but beneath, his soul still yearns for adventure on the battlefield where he excels. It stirs wild impulses that defeat calmer and rational thinking in heated moments.
But you see, Childe was trying to grow out of his old self to become a better emperor for the empire. Where violence was once his first tongue, patience and diplomacy now speak louder through his efforts. He'll continue abandoning rashness like battered armor outgrown, and you'll be there every step of the way.
“You know how he plucks my strings, angel.”
As Childe spoke those words to you, his hand rose to his collar. Slowly, deliberately, he began to unbutton his royal shirts one by one. He eases the heavy fabric from his broad shoulders in a single, practiced motion, revealing his numerous scars—a history that is reluctant to be forgotten on his skin. And he was beautiful precisely because he was battle-tested yet unbroken.
Your ladies-in-waiting took the cue to discreetly gather towels and depart with flushed smiles. Childe unbuckled and threw the belt behind him without a care. He approached you, and your gaze roamed over your husband's nearly naked body in awe. The skin is smooth and light, muscles defined yet free of excess bulk. Years of combat had honed his physique to its peak.
The chiseled 'V' leads down from his waist to where his trousers clung low on his hips. Blocks like smoothed stone make a square on the stomach, not overly large but firm under the touch. You remember fond nights tracing their lines with fingers or lips, feeling them contract at your actions.
"But for you both, my love, I will try to keep a calm head."
With feline grace, Childe stepped into the bath, causing the waters to surge. You smiled and shifted forward invitingly to give him room. He settled behind you, long legs flanking your form, and circling your swollen middle with strong yet gentle arms. The warmth is placed on your exposed shoulder as he kisses it affectionately. You lean back with a sigh, nestling your damp hair against his collarbone. He kissed your temple, one large hand spread protectively over the unborn babe within.
“Don't worry, your promise will be put to the test when the three of us leave for Zelenossosh later.” You said and Childe let out an exaggerated groan and buried his face in the crook of your neck, eliciting a soft laugh from you.
Within three days, the three of you will head for Zelenossosh. A rational individual would say that it would be unwise to proceed with this plan - Childe is a troublemaker, and pairing him with Shiva's fiery temper is a risky undertaking. Even if you decide to travel to Zelenossosh, a location known for its tranquil appearance, composed of pretty hills and beaches, it will probably turn into another loud argument – just with a prettier backdrop this time!
Only time will tell what the fate of their traveling party will be, and you can only pray that it will end with more joy than murder.
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#childe#tartaglia#tartaglia genshin#tartaglia genshin impact#childe genshin impact#childe x reader#genshin impact#genshin#impact#genshin impact childe x reader#x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin men x rader#genshin commission#genshin commissions#childe x you#childe x oc#childe fics#childe fic#childe fanfiction#childe fanfic#tartaglia childe#tartaglia fluff#childe fluff#pregnant reader#childe x pregnant reader#writing commission#commission#fanfic commission
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philophobia.
you've come to a realization: you're in love with childe. but the fear of the unpredictable when it comes to being in love roots you to your spot despite how much your heart yearns for his affections.
feat. childe
genre : angst, hurt/comfort.
warnings : self-doubt in mc, lots of overthinking, but a happy ending <:
w.c. : 2.4k
note : happy bday childe!! i love you so much, my wittle pookie bear TT anyways, please enjoy this short birthday fic i wrote for him! this holds a lot of personal sentiments that i share with mc, so it is quite indulgent and personal, in my opinion at least <3
Thump. Thump.
You aren’t quite sure when your heart began beating against your chest with the same force Rex Lapis had when he uprooted mountains and launched them into the sea, but you’re certain that Celestia had somehow placed a curse on you for always crying her name out in vain in every situation possible; stubbing your toe in the morning, dropping a dumpling while munching on lunch, or just even when the kids playing in the harbor decided to startle you for fun.
How could you not? It’s not like she was real, was she?
You just wished your heart didn’t want to leap out of your chest whenever you bumped into the Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui.
A tuft of orange peeking out from the crowd, a flash of red when you turn the corner, a boyish giggle from above when you’re strolling through the harbor. A sea of blue engulfing your entire being. Even the mere mention of his name was enough to send crystalflies fluttering from your stomach to your chest.
“Hm, are you sure you and Childe aren’t anything more?” Jia, your dear friend, comments while folding her laundry neatly into her drawers. “Because to me, it seems like you have a thing for him.”
You can feel the blood rushing to your face at her remark and quickly turn your head to face the window to hide your flustered expression.
“Y-You’re jumping to conclusions. I do not like Childe in that way,” you stammer, not helping your stance in any way possible. “Besides, we both have more important issues to focus on. A relationship is not at the forefront of our minds right now.”
“And how do you know he doesn’t like you at all?” Jia sends you a deadpan expression. “Would you gift a friend flowers and chocolates on your birthday? Would you drop everything and rush to a friend’s workplace, not their house, when you hear that they’ve been struck with a high fever and collapsed because they refused to go home?”
You wince at that memory, embarrassed at the spectacle that you created at the shop when you passed out. In your defense, you didn’t think your fever was that bad and you wore a mask and gloves to prevent yourself from spreading your sickness to anyone else. Your boss had lectured you about working in your condition, but you brushed his worry off.
You were sure your boss was shouting “I told you so!!” when your vision blurred and slowly began to black out. You woke up tucked in your bed, a striking red scarf snuggly wrapped around your neck and a familiar gray jacket on top of your comforter. The scent of citrus with a faint hint of the sea engulfed your entire being and you’ve never felt more at ease than now.
The door slowly swung open, revealing Childe in all his glory holding a tray with a bowl neatly displayed on it. Silvery wisps of steam gently rose above the bowl and you could feel your mouth salivating at the thought of what it held.
“Oh, you’re awake!” It was hard to not notice the gleam in his eyes when your gazes met or the slight skip in his step when he walked towards your bedside. The mattress dipped slightly when he sat down beside you, the heat radiating from his body near yours was comforting despite the throbbing in your forehead.
“Childe… what are you doing here?” you questioned. He hummed in response, fingers gently lifting the covers of the bowl off and revealing the meal he had prepared for you that evening. Soup, you had noted, made with tender chicken and green vegetables. Though it looked unfamiliar to you, the aroma of the broth was luring you in and your stomach growled in response to the meal in front of you.
If you could, you would have punched the Harbinger in the head for laughing at your reaction, but your arms were too heavy to even lift.
“You know, when you’re sick you should stay home and rest,” he murmured softly, eyelashes clouding his expression as he looked down at the soup. His fingers picked up the spoon and scoop a spoonful of the soup. “You really worried me back there. Nearly dropped heavy bags of mora on my employee’s foot when I heard you collapsed.”
His chuckle was soft in the silence of your bedroom. With a whisper of your name, your gazes met again and your breath stilled; tidal pools of deep blue peered back at you, calm and welcoming like the waters you would find bubbling at Luhua Pool.
“Promise me you won’t do that again? I can always help you if you need me.”
You don’t quite remember what you said in response to his request, but the memory of fighting against being spoon-fed by Childe [and losing] is clear as day; his hand firmly wrapped around your wrists after you had flailed around for a bit and the other gently tipping the spoon with the now lukewarm soup into your mouth.
It was delicious.
“Jia-“
She holds a hand up to stop you. “I’m just saying; maybe he likes you a bit more than just platonically, at least that’s what it looks like from an outsider’s perspective.”
Your friend’s words imprint themselves into your memory, echoing around your skull and haunting your subconscious. There was no way you really had a thing for Childe of all people, right? Sure he’s… good with kids, always makes you laugh regardless of your mood, kind to your parents and handsome, especially when you catch him on the rare times he’s rushing to something and his hair is a mess from the wind. A sea of tangled orange tufts sticking in various areas, tempting you to run your fingers through them to smooth them out. Or especially when Liyue gets warmer and you’re subjected to the sight of Childe’s freckles that dust his visage when he smiles and waves you over to him. A flurry of darker spots that settle across his cheeks and nose, enticing you to press your lips over each and every one and hopefully bringing out his boyish laughter that you love so much-
Oh, dear.
Was Jia right about this? You couldn’t believe it at all, you didn’t want to believe it at all. Even if she was right and you did like the Snezhnayan, what reason did he have for liking you back? Were you even likable like that?
The call of your name interrupts your thoughts from spiraling even further down into the pits of the Abyss; a blessing, but a curse because the person to whom the voice belonged to was the entire reason why you were spiraling in the first place.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
There he is, in all of his glory. It’s a warmer day in Liyue so his grey coat is off, loosely hanging off of his shoulders. How they were staying on was a mystery to you. His red buttoned up shirt remained, though his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and there were fewer buttons done leaving your eyes to wander a bit lower than they intended.
Oh, so his freckles trail down to his shoulders. Interesting.
This time, the blue in his eyes are warmer than ever; blue, like the calm, warm blue you’ve seen at Yaoguang Shoal. And his smile… Celestia, his smile is the most radiant you have ever seen it, and it is directed at you, for you, and because of you. In his gloved hand, he holds a singular sunflower; its petals are the brightest shade of yellow you have ever seen and its bloom is huge, almost as big as the young man’s head. But even its beauty dulled next to the grinning Harbinger next to it.
With a shaky breath, you come to the conclusion you’ve been dreading most.
Jia was right. You’ve fallen in love with Childe, and you sure as Abyss don’t know how you’re going to deal with this situation now.
Love and romance was something you’ve never been familiar with; you had no interest in romance outside of the novels you’ve read and Jia’s relationship problems she often came to you for were the only experiences you’ve ever had with relationships. It was… a strange emotion, you would say. Strange and unnecessary.
Your mentality for straying the farthest away from anything romantic and from anyone who ever showed you romantic interest was that loving others romantically was tedious. The romance in novels were seldom a reality, and you’ve only ever heard bad things from Jia’s relationship struggles in the past, so why bother dealing with romance at all?
So, coming to terms with what you feel about Childe was… unfamiliar to you. It’s strange, unnerving.
Love is terrifying because of the endless possibilities it could give you, and you are a coward.
Weeks had passed since the last time you saw Childe. Since these new feelings were foreign to you, your best idea was to push them to the back burner of your subconscious and pray to the Archons above that you have moved on.
“A terrible idea, in my opinion,” Jia had told you, flicking a piece of a seaweed chip at your forehead. “You’re only going to make the situation worse and hurt his feelings in the process.”
Even if it was, it was better than confronting him about your feelings and having him outright reject you. Or worse, if he was disgusted by the love you harbor for him.
Besides, what did Jia know about anything? It has been weeks since you last seen Childe and it has also been weeks since you last thought about him. No crystalflies, no heated skin, no quickened heart rate. Getting over these feelings were going to be a walk in the park.
Except it’s not when a clearly upset Harbinger is leaning against the wall outside your door, arms crossed across his broad chest and his fingers tapping a steady beat against his forearm. Before you could turn on your heel and spend the night at Jia’s, not like she would allow you to stay after this entire predicament anyways, the shuffling of your clothes alerts him of your presence.
Steel, cold cobalt meets your gaze, a huge contrast to the warm smiles and laughter that usually envelops you in the adoration he holds for you. It’s hard to read his expression, save for the obvious hurt that swirls deep inside the trenches held inside his eyes. It’s striking and it sends a shiver down your spine.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
You greet him curtly, nodding your head to acknowledge his presence before you brush past him to get inside your house.
His hand firmly wraps around your wrist, pulling you back and away from the door. Any attempts to get your arm out of his grip is futile, as expected considering the many, many years of training and fight he had during his Fatui recruitment and your lack thereof.
“You’re avoiding me,” Childe comments, breaking the silence between the two of you. You don’t answer, half because you know you would start crying if you opened your mouth and the other because you were terrified of his response to you.
“Look at me.” You don’t budge, and didn’t plan to. “…Please, [Name].”
And so you do. The usual calm tide pools that Childe holds in his eyes are dark, murky waters clouding his expression and distorted by the waves of unease. His gaze flits around, examining every orifice of your face, your eyes, your expression, anything to get the answer he was looking for.
Maybe it was the desperation in the way he was looking at you or the expression slowly falling from his face when you remained silent, but you take a shaky breath. The fist that remained at your side clenches and unclenches in uncertainty, but you knew this moment was now or never.
You tell him everything, from the fluttery feelings that began whenever you were near him, to your conversation with Jia, to the realization of your feelings regarding him, to the great-but-turned-not-so-great solution that you came up with to resolve your own feelings without ever confronting Childe about them and keeping him away from your feelings.
You didn’t know when you had started to cry, but, by the end of your explanation, your cheeks have become stained with crystal tears that fell from your eyes and hiccups interrupt your breathing. Your hands, you didn’t even realize Childe had let go of your wrist, cover your face, furiously wiping away the tears.
“I’m scared, Childe. Terrified of what you’ll think of me because I like you, terrified of the future that Celestia has in store for us,” you take a shaky breath and fail to calm your breathing. “I don’t want you to hate me, Childe. I’m so… so scared of love, of loving you.”
Calloused hands grip your wrists again, but this time they pull you flush into Childe’s chest. His arms firmly wrap around your body, embracing you and surrounding you with the warmth you didn’t know you missed.
“You’re quite clueless for someone I thought was so smart,” the Harbinger teases, easing back into the personality that you’re used to. “I’m unsure too, even though I might not look like it.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“You can hear it, right? My heart beat. I’m new to love too, and I don’t know how things will turn out after this.” His hand comes up to run his fingers through your hair and he presses a kiss on the top of your head. “But if I have a say in anything, I'll figure out a way to make things easier for the both of us, and we'll conquer it. Together. I love you, [Name]. Truly, I do.”
At this point, the tears have come again. Jia was right again, you really are an idiot.
Apologies spill from your mouth, broken up only by the hiccups and sobs that tear through your body. Apologies for avoiding him, for hurting the one you love, for being so dumb and not realizing both of your feelings sooner.
But each and every apology was met with a gentle kiss from your new lover and a promise for a better tomorrow.
#genshin#genshin impact#childe x reader#childe fics#tartaglia x reader#tartaglia fics#genshin x reader#genshin fics#didi writes#if you saw this being reposted no you didn't :(#i'm so frustrated !!
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are we still doing this because i have a late submission
#🐉#this is less about fan content and more about that awful lazy one size fits all#'10 years later theyre happily married with a cute little nuclear family' trope#because ive read some genuinely incredible fics about characters who would Not fucking have kids#ending up with accidental pregnancy scares or child acquisitions that get treated with all the nuance#and thoughtful handling they deserve#but also. i reread one of my favourite fics yesterday and when one character jokingly brought up the idea of children#and the other reacted with genuine visceral disgust and said what hideously awful parents theyd be#i lit up like a fucking christmas tree
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*Spidey and the Sinister Six having their usual fight*
Doc Ock, landing a hit: You’re getting slow Spider-Man! Age finally catching up to you?
Spider-Man: You wish! I haven’t even hit my 30s! From those costumes I can already tell I failed to save you guys from those midlife crises! Sorry by the way.
Vulture: Watch it wallcr- wait… Did you just say your not in your thirties yet?
Spider-Man: Surprised that this spiders so young and spry? Well-
Electro: Dude I’ve been fighting you for at least 5 fucking years! How old even are you?
Shocker, joking cause he’s the only one who picked up no grown adult acts likes Spidey: Don’t swear in-front of the boy you don’t want him to pick it up.
Rhino: Christ! You’re tellin me I almost crushed some 12-year-olds skull all those years ago?
Spider-Man, regretting his quipping: I was not that young! Like just starting freshman year but-
Sandman, horrified as he’s the only one with a kid and dad instincts(as of my iteration): I could’ve killed a kid…
Shocker, genuinely curious: Are you even old enough to drink? Cruel to kill a man who ain’t had his first drink yet.
Electro: Please tell us you’re at least over 25 as of this fight. Hell, I’ll take over 21!
Spider-Man:….
Sandman, realizing just how young he really is: Oh my god.
Spider-Man: My birthday’s coming up soon so I guess it counts?
Doc Ock, exacerbated: It. Does. Not!
Vulture: What would your mother think if she knew her son was out here risking his life telling poorly constructed jokes?
Spider-Man, offended cause it quips slap: 1. My jokes are great 2. She and my dad are dead so-
Sandman, hysterical cause holy shit he almost killed a kid orphan: OH MY GOD!
#they now think he’s some homeless orphan fighting crime cause it’s the only thing he has#my fav hc are the villains earlier in spideys career are completely against harming kids#so to figure out the hero of New York was like a child they plan to torture before unmasking and killing is well#not great on their minds and little sense of morality#I wanted to write a fic about this but ao3 is dead so take this flash dialogue fic instead#I need to sleep for work#doc ock#sinister six#doctor octopus#otto octavius#the sandman#flint marko#the rhino#Alexei Sytsevich#the shocker#herman schultz#electro#maxwell dillon#the vulture#adrian toomes#peter parker#spider-man#spiderman
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The Justice League finds out about the Anti-Ecto Acts, and Batman is the driving force behind condemning them.
He even goes so far as to summon popular ghost hero Phantom for advice, given that his son, Red Hood, would absolutely fall under those Acts.
Phantom...tells him he's wrong.
Red Hood is 100%, completely and totally alive. Same soul, same body, sort of the same person. Only 'sort of' because people change as they grow, so obviously he isn't going to be the same person he was when he was fifteen.
There's not a trace of ecto in him, or in any of the Bats. None of them are even liminal.
Batman asks if he's sure. If he's really, really sure. Because ghosts run on emotions, and Red Hood came back extremely violent and irrational.
"Well yeah, of course he did," Phantom deadpans, and Batman suddenly feels very, very small under that glare. "He was murdered, unavenged, told that there was no way he was the same person when he came back pissed, and had his words as a victim ignored. I'd get violent too. Look, I gotta go, but thanks for getting the Acts removed."
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#dc x dp#phanfic#story prompt#you know all those fics about the batfam being liminal#and that's why they're weird or spooky#and that's why jason beat the snot out of tim#yeah so like#what if they weren't#at all#mostly i just wanted bruce to have to face that#yo#this is still jason#he's angry and grown up but it's still jason#and you're stuck in the past grasping at straws#refusing to acknowledge the very alive man in front of you#while you grieve a child you ran off in the first place
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jealousy, jealousy (?)
synopsis: asking them for someone else's number.
pairing: diluc, childe, al haitham, wriothesley x gn! reader
fandom: genshin impact
genre: fluff
warnings: mentions of cheating, insecurity(?)
a/n: my first smau :o definitely have something big planned, but this is me trying. hahehwehwjehjehe.
bonus: kazuha !
#♔ — works !#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin fluff#diluc x reader#wriothesley x reader#childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#al haitham x reader#kazuha x reader#feel free to give me feedbackkkkkkk#id love advice on how to do this better#!!!#i fear that the conversations dont flow as smoothly as it would in a written fic#but we'll seeeeee#genshin smau#smau#diluc smau#childe smau#al haitham smau#wriothesley smau#kazuha smau
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Dp x Dc au: Normal is Good
Okay so hear me out— i see lots of “you can’t control Danny he’s a wild child” premises and like, I agree, I love that, but JUST hear me out. Danny who is just entranced by being treated like a NORMAL KID.
I think for best results this should be done with de-aged Danny so he’s a bit younger, but it can def work with regular Danny too.
Danny winds up running around Gotham for one reason or another doing INSANE SHIT to try and help or just survive and his family is out of the way. The explosion, Bad Fentons, etc— and one of the bats picks up Danny. This can be a dad!Jason, or dad!Dick, or classic Bruce Adoption. But they see this little shit running around and are like “no fucking way, not on my watch you little maniac”
Now, a lot of people use the “Jazz practically raised Danny” card, and I love that card and fully support it, but she was also a kid. With no other parents to consult. Who was raised by the Fentons originally and def has no clue what normal parents are like. So she probably didn’t exactly measure up to how a kid is MEANT to be raised. So Danny still had an incredibly strange childhood that just was Not Normal, but I feel like we see Danny with a deep desire to be normal. He doesn’t even really like being a superhero that much, he just wanted to be a kid.
So he gets bat adopted, and Danny is just functioning how he did growing up with the Fentons, which is No Restrictions Do What You Want. And then his bat dad (using Jason for this) is like “No. It’s Bed Time.” And Danny. Danny is ALL for that. He’s bewildered. Mystified. He’s not grumpy about being told what to do at ALL, because he’s just so shocked.
“You’re serious? You’re fucking dead-ass serious? It’s bed time? Oh my god this is so cool. I’ve never had a bed time before! This is great!” Because this is the first time he’s EVER been treated like a normal child by a parental figure. He just got sent to bed. Wow.
Having a parent who is in charge of keeping him healthy and actually enforces Danny taking care of himself is kind of cool.
“Eat your vegetables, they’re good for you.” And they won’t try to eat him back? Fuck yeah, he’ll eat his vegetables!
“No you aren’t allowed to go out at 2 in the morning, go back to bed, you have a doctors appointment for your yearly checkup tomorrow.” oh ancients, Danny has always heard other kids complain about not being allowed out at night, but to have himself told he can’t? This is so weird. And he’s never been to a yearly check up before!
“Brush your teeth before bed” “I can’t get cavities, I’m dead!” “Ya know, for some reason I don’t believe you. When was the last time you went to the dentist? Are you sure you can’t get them?” Danny has 7 cavities.
The first time Danny gets to actually use the “my dad said No” excuse, he is ECSTATIC. Jack and Maddie have LITERALLY never told him he can’t go out somewhere. Ever. He’s in a whole new world where he doesn’t have to fight ghosts, or be a hero, or anything and he loves it. He has a normal kids room without deadly weapons in it and normal kid hobbies and a fridge full of normal food and a parent who enforces a bed time, and it’s weird as hell and it’s great. Normal is pretty damn good, he has no clue what Sam and Tucker were always complaining about. Shits sweet.
#Danny is accidentally the best behaved child in Wayne Manor#dp x dc#dpxdc#dc x dp fic#dc x dp prompt#dp x dc prompt#danny phantom#danny phantom x dc#fic prompt
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#Wash away the smog#dick grayson#bruce wayne#batman#batfamily#fic rec#terrible sting terrible storm by airyoubreathe#based off a comment made in this fic about Dick loving the rain as a child#beautifully written story but made the urge to draw HAPPY dick way too strong to resist#dude deserves some love ok#beware tags
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“could you be seen with me and still act proud?”
➢ Jing Yuan, Argenti, Aventurine, Dan Heng, Blade, Xiao, Childe, Wanderer, Zhongli
➢ Star Rail / Genshin x [GN] Reader
➥ (their answer + reaction to this question)
➥ (comfort / fluff)
✧ - JING YUAN
“Why, of course. I would hold your hand up for the whole of the Xianzhou to see.”
This was pretty expected of the sly general. However, what was unexpected was the way he took you in his arms and lifted you up—bridal style. You begged him to put you down as he opened the doors of his and your room, now making his way outside to remind the whole Xianzhou that you're his and he's yours.
✧ - ARGENTI
“Dearest love—of course, I would be so proud to have the chance to take the hand of mortal beauty itself, and, if it were chivalrous, I would boast about your beauty everywhere I go.”
Ever so poetic, Argenti pulls your heart strings again with his creative (yet cheesy) lines. He loves you; that's a fact that nobody can deny, and he believes that you were sent down by Idrila herself with how attractive you are. Without a hesitant thought, he backs away and offers you his hand—will you accept the offer in which he takes you from place to place, hand in hand, to show the whole world that your his love?
✧ - AVENTURINE
“You wanna take a bet? Here, I'll take you out to dinner if you guess my answer correctly—get it wrong, and I decide on what I'll do with you.”
With a wink and a smile turning into a smirk, it's always hard to guess what Aventurine is thinking, but with the clock ticking, you hardly get time to really think, and so you curiously answer with “no.” A smile grows on his face, and he leans in close, holding your arms. He whispers in your ear, “I guess that means you have to do what I tell you tonight.”
✧ - DAN HENG
“Of course. I do... I do love you, after all.”
His sentences are kept short and simple (with a little bit of blush), just like how they always are. Now, unlike most people on this list, he isn't bringing you outside to let the world know that you're dating, but he would feel and does absolutely feel proud to have you as his love. He reassures you that he would never feel embarrassed or feel the need to hide his love for you, no matter the crowd he's surrounded by.
✧ - BLADE
“Yes. Nobody's taking you, and nobody's taking me. Everyone had better know that you're mine, and the same goes for me.”
His response was rather threatening, but that's typical with Blade. His words are as sharp as his sword, but they're also as meaningful as sharp; his intent is nowhere near ill towards you, and he only means that he's dedicated himself to you already, and it's a dedication that he would never feel embarrassed or guilty for. Now, take his hand—he'll promise the world that you're his tonight.
✧ - XIAO
“Yes. Why wouldn't I be?”
In Adeptus Xiao language, he means, “yes, of course I would. Archons, holding your hand is a blessing itself.” And, though he doesn't admit it, he still feels it. You are his first and only love in several millennia. You, of every person to ever set foot in Liyue, managed to capture his heart when nobody else could. Xiao loves you, and he feels that he will forever, so he prays you'd banish him if he ever hurts you or hides his love away for something trivial because that means the karma got to him and that he's gone mad.
✧ - CHILDE
“Of course, babe! You know what? Let's go on a date right now— everything's on me!”
And that's simply Childe. Without a word, he disappears and reappears with your favorite outfit in hand, and has you put it on (in private as he waits outside the bedroom door), and when you're done, he's suddenly dressed nicely with roses in hand, and he takes you out on a date. How? No clue, but know that he's letting the whole region know that you're his right here and right now.
✧ - WANDERER
“Huh? That's a stupid question. Why are you asking me, anyway?”
Yes. He means yes in every way possible. His sharp tongue speaks the opposite, but Wanderer truly means that he would show you off to the world if he had to. If he has to, mainly because he finds the concept of love in its entirety as stupid, but he also loves you too much to let you leave him, let alone have someone else think that you're some vacant partner just waiting to be taken. Now, hold both of his hands. He'll glide you above Sumeru City and show everyone there that you're his if you're still thinking about the question.
✧ - ZHONGLI
“Well, of course. Would you like to take a walk around the harbor for me to prove that?”
Zhongli senses your insecurity, and he wishes to alleviate your worries, so he takes you to a popular teahouse by a bridge. It's not that grand or special, but he keeps you close to him as you both sip away at your tea and embrace the company of one another.
yes, this was a heathers reference.
#character x reader#genshin x reader#star rail x reader#jing yuan x reader#argenti x reader#aventurine x reader#dan heng x reader#blade x reader#xiao x reader#childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#wanderer x reader#kuni x reader#scaramouche x reader#scara x reader#zhongli x reader#genshin fic#genshin impact fic#honkai star rail x reader#star rail fic#honkai star rail fic#fluff#comfort#character x y/n#genshin x y/n
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Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.
I appreciate the likes, replies, and reblogs! Thank you so much. If you like what I do, you can consider donating to my Kofi. Once again, thanks so much!
Grief is so hard to hide, isn't it?
Childe despised it. He despised how the illumination along the corridor's walls seemed to dim as he was moving through it. He despised how the people gathered outside his father's door bowed to him before lowering their heads once more with grave expressions.
Childe despised that he had to go through something like this again.
When the big door was opened, Tonia and Teucer's sobbing from next to the bed were the first thing that caught his ear. It was soft but, had the ability to cut his long-dead heart. On the other side of the room, you are standing next to his mother, stroking her shoulder and attempting to sooth her.
Childe despised grief since it reminded him of his mother's expression whenever he spoke of Anton.
“Ajax,”
His mother called out in between her sobs. His blue eyes were fixed on her, watching her struggled to gather the last of her energy to approach him and give him a weak hug. Why was she hugging him?
"Your father.." A sob. "He... he's gone."
Snezhnaya's king, King Alexander II, is gone. He's dead, and the only thing left to give the dead was a funeral. The royal family held it the next day, sending their nation into mourning and leaving both the royals and the people dressed in black.
However, not a single tear fell from Childe.
All he did was stand next to you while watching the funeral process being carried out. Beneath the memorial chapel, blue eyes follow the outline of the casket where his father lies.
Again, not a single tear fell from Childe.
“Ajax?”
It wasn't until you gently tugged on Childe's sleeve that he realized he was buried in his own thoughts. When he meets your eyes he can't help but wonder what you think of him now you see his face without the tear stains on his cheeks. He should be grieving, which means he should be crying, right?
Meanwhile, from your eyes, you notice that his blue eyes look even emptier than before.
You took a breath before saying, "We'll be returning to the palace soon."
“..Oh.” He gave you a delayed response.
But, you make no complaint about it. You gave him a quick peek through your black birdcage veil before hooking your hand on his, gently pulling to guide him to leave the building.
Childe detested grief because he found it weird.
The two of you stopped when a group of aristocrats came towards you both. One of them is Duke Maxim, whom you remember from having tea with you just before the incident. They bowed respectfully before rising to their feet.
“Your Highnesses.” Maxim greeted, turning completely to Childe then. "To encounter you again in such a setting... how unfortunate."
There is something about his voice that you don't like, even if you are unsure of what it is. Childe next to you is still in silence, either he doesn't know what to say or he is deaf to what is being spoken since he has been lost in his own thoughts during the entire funeral.
You chose to be the one who opened your mouth, “Duke Maxim, is there something you want to say?” you ask.
Maxim's face is hardly covering his real expression right now. Perhaps it's because of your tone, or perhaps he regards you as someone who doesn't deserve to hear what he has to say. Yet, he had little choice because Childe stood there with no response.
"I simply wanted to remind you that the meeting discussing the succession should be held today."
Now you know exactly what it is about his presence here that you dislike. Maxim did show respect for the deceased by wearing black like other nobles attending funerals, however, he lacked the modicum of common sense that told him that for someone to bring up the subject of inheriting the throne when the late king's coffin had just been closed was inappropriate.
Your jaw stiffens from your attempts not to curse him then and there. "Excuse my impoliteness but, can you show a little self-awareness? We just laid to rest the late King.” You didn't hide the venom dripping in your voice.
“Forgive my rudeness, but it appears Your Highness is unaware of the importance of a new king for Snezhnaya.” One of them opened their mouth. You fixed your sharp eyes on the arrogant looking man in military uniform.
It's so miraculous you haven't flung one of your high heels in their face.
"Would holding the conference on the day of the burial change anything?"
The rhetorical question comes from you, answered by none. You still try not to raise your intonation and cause a scene but, it feels impossible when they appear in front of you with their foolishness.
Your hands wrap around Childe's arms tighter than before, protective in case they intend to snatch him away from you (though you know that's unlikely). “Give my husband some time. If you're intelligent and empathetic in the slightest, you'll know you have to give him at least a week to process everything." you demand.
Neither of them dared to open their mouths after that. Wise decision, you think, considering your patience is growing thin.
One of them broke the silence with a faked cough. "Ahem, We will be back tomorrow morning then, Your Highness."
Both you and Childe gave no response to him, he used the opportunity to continue, "For the discussion regarding the succession and also the investigation of Prince Shiva."
Instantly, your eyes open wide to find the man trying to hold back his grin from coming out. He knew very well what he had said. The confusion and anger on your face is too obvious for them not to notice, yet they see no threat in it.
"Why on earth would you do that?" You grind your teeth.
"Surely that is obvious. All of this took place during the late king's meeting with him. It is only natural for us to suspect him.”
“But, Shiva couldn't have done such a—!“ You stopped when realization hit you.
Isn't this exactly what you thought the day before? Didn't you also suspect Shiva? Something whispering to you is not a coincidence for the King to show the exact symptoms of poisoning as you did before his death.
If you, his own sister, are unsure that your brother is completely clean, what about others?
On the other hand, your words that you cut yourself off put those bunch of nobles under the impression you too had realized it. Now, they have no intention of covering up their grin, they look at you with a look as if they have won something.
"What's wrong, Princess? Have you nothing to say?”
Hold it, (Y/N), you tell yourself as you take a deep breath to quiet the raging emotions inside of you. A second later, the burning fire that was your anger miraculously disappeared as if someone had splashed water on it. Rational thought comes back to you, it whispers so you don't give them what they want.
"No," you respond. "It was very understandable. So, you are free to do as much investigation as you like on my brother." But, if Shiva is proven to be innocent, you will be the first person I feed to wolves, you want to add but, didn't.
When you turned to look at Childe, he still had the same straight face and blank stare. Now you feel guilty having to argue with these people in front of him. A smile you forced on your face for them.
"Please excuse us." You softly motioned your husband to walk past the nobles.
Childe remained silent throughout the carriage trip to the palace. He only glances up when you put your hand on his to give him a gentle squeeze; for the rest, those blue eyes find his shoes to be the most interesting to look at. Because of that, you assumed he would remain that way for quite sometime. That is until you walk him into his chamber.
“Please rest, Your Highness.”
That's what you said after Childe sat down on the couch near his bed. Just as you were about to bow to excuse yourself to give him some alone time, he opened his mouth unexpectedly.
"Aren't I a horrible person?"
The moment it came out of him, you couldn't help but notice the emptiness in his voice. You straighten your posture again as you gaze at his attempts to give a thin, bitter smile. It was so terrifying how he looked no more alive than a wolf on the verge of death.
Childe let out a laugh that shook his shoulders but, never touched his eyes.
“My father died but, I didn't shed any tears. Am I not a cruel son?” He isn't waiting for your response because he knows, he is the worst person in the world.
Childe despised grief because he didn't know what to feel about it.
With a room this big, your cursing should have echoed. However, what his hearing now captures is your footsteps getting closer. Stop, he thought. How can you be so brave to approach someone so cruel that he doesn't cry over his father who died the slowest and most painful death possible?
"I'm not even grieving." He let out a scoff. "Perhaps they were right when they said I didn't have a passion for anything but bloodshed. Perhaps they were right about me being heartless—”
It was the warmth he felt when you closed him in your arms and drew him into your embrace. Those blue eyes widened. You bring him further to rest his head on your chest. At this point, you don't care if he can hear your heartbeat; the fact that you're this close proves that you don't see him the way he sees himself.
Soft, ginger strands between your fingers as you stroke his head. “There is no right or wrong way to grieve.” You spoke softly. "Everyone handles it differently, therefore no one has the right to judge you, including yourself.”
Childe believes he really does not deserve you. This is a luxury that no amount of money in the world can purchase. In your arms, he unfolds, not a single part of his cold, dead heart is left untouched by your comfortable glow. He never wanted anything so much than to drown in everything about you. His secret becomes your truth, you are the air he would kill to breathe.
As if he'd spent his entire life practicing for it, his hands found your waist and hugged you tightly.
Inside his head, he wondered while performing autopsies on past memories. If only someone treated him like this every time he asked about Anton in the past, would he have a better understanding of grief? If only people didn't force him to bury everything about him, would he not mistake the emptiness in his chest for the absence of a heart?
Childe nuzzles up to your chest. "Don't go.” He spoke quietly. “Stay with me."
You've experienced a lot of déjà vu during the last several days. This time, you're reminded again with the memory of when Childe came to you drunk and said exactly the same thing. You don't know what to feel now you realize there's no alcohol involved in this one.
Nonetheless, through your questions about the meaning of his words, you made your choice.
You stayed.
It was late at night when Laura arrived at the address you gave her. She pushed back her hood, sweeping her dark eyes across the exterior of the luxurious mansion where the Crown Prince of Liyue stayed whenever he visited Snezhnaya. Unlike other nobles, Shiva always preferred to reside in the home he purchased over the Emerald palace.
Even though the eyes of the guard guarding the gate were sharp, Laura tried to muster up the courage to approach them.
“State your business.” The voice was firm and fast, leaving no gaps for her to make excuses.
In an effort to get the bravery to speak, Laura swallowed. "I-I have a letter from Euryphaessa to His Highness Prince Shiva." She's hoping the guard would let her in using the alias you instructed her to use.
It appears to work. The expression on the two guards' faces changed to one of curiosity before one of them ran through the gate to announce the arrival of this guest.
Soon after, he came back and led Laura into the building. After passing through a large door, she stopped in a room with a luxurious spiral staircase that was his main focus.
"Why did she send a letter all of a sudden?"
Laura almost jumped out of her skin when she heard his baritone voice. When she turned around, Shiva was already standing some distance away from her in his bathrobe. His damp hair dripped with water drops that touched his skin, creating the illusion that it glittered in the light of the chandelier. The Liyue imperial family was undoubtedly gifted with attractive appearances.
“A-ah.. that..”
Instantly, she lost her ability to form words under those piercing gazes. In order to spare her life, Laura hastily handed the letter into his hands. She watched as he tore open the unwaxed envelope and pulled out the paper inside.
Shiva raised one eyebrow before starting to read.
Brother,
You're returning to Liyue, right? On this sad day, I cannot leave my husband who is still in mourning. Under any other circumstances, I would definitely escort you to the harbor instead of sending a letter.
Are you alright? Remembering what happened makes me tremble. Even now, I become frightened every time someone brings me a cup of tea.
Shiva paused for a moment. You're afraid? It felt strange and worrying at one time. Nonetheless, he pushed the thought aside and continued reading to the third paragraph.
Upon your arrival in Liyue, please take care of your health. Now that you've matured, I hope you'll be wiser. Do you still often train with General Alatus? Endure all your difficulties, I believe it will bring positive consequences. Rest is always necessary; avoid staying up too late.
“No wonder she rarely writes letters. She's really bad with words.” he commented.
Someone told me that your expression is scary. Usually, I wouldn't have given this any thought, but, for some reason, I am now. Sometimes, I wish you could smile more. People will easily like you if you do. It would be great if my brother had more reliable acquaintances. Can you do that? I believe you can. Other than that, I don't think I have anything else to be concerned about. Now that I've said it, I hope you'll heed my wise counsel.
After writing this, I'm reminded of the moments I spent with you. Do you remember what we used to do when we were kids? Do you recall how we almost ruined all of Dad's important letters because we were too intrigued about the contents?
After reading the fifth paragraph, Shiva furrowed his brows as his mind searched for his past memories. The day you and him almost ruined the Emperor's important papers..
Something clicked in the back of his head.
Reading letters to improve your skill to decipher their hidden messages is a passion shared by the two of you. But, why are you suddenly bringing up that?
As he read the next one, Shiva's presumption was proven to be correct.
The contents of this letter I wrote are important, so please ensure that you understand my worries.
Your dear sister, (Y/N).
Shiva swept his eyes over the letter, re-reading it looking for the 'content' of the letter that worried you. His brain thinks what kind of secret code you put in it. For him to understand what you actually want to say, how should he read this letter?
Ancient letter code? No, you won't use it since it's possible that he has forgotten how to crack it. If you wanted to send a letter while trying to disguise its true message, you would choose the simple way yet, still ensuring it's not entirely obvious that someone other than Shiva can understand it.
Shiva stopped thinking. What if..
Laura wondered what brought his eyes back to the top of the letter. As she recalls, you only gave her one sheet, however, Shiva acted as if he was trying to memorize every word in it.
What was really in that letter? she thought.
Meanwhile, Shiva was trying to test his assumptions. From the start of your letter until the end, he carefully reads the first letter of every sentence. His breath caught as it made a complete one after reaching the fourth paraghraph.
Y O U. A R E. U N D E R. S U S P I C I O N.
Those four words were enough to tell him everything he needed to know.
There was a long tense silence for Laura, it felt like the calm before the storm. The next thing that happened, Shiva's shoulders shook from the silent laughter that escalated and echoed in the room. He pushed a strand of hair that tickled his forehead while reading the letter for the umpteenth time.
"Ha ha ha! Goodness, she really is something!”
Shiva crumpled the letter until it was shapeless. He landed his eyes on Laura with a big smile that sent chills down her body.
“You!” He pointed at her. “Tell the Princess that I understand her worries.”
There was a dangerous stir in his irises as he unclenched his fist and let the paper fall onto the marble floor. When Laura was about to nod in understanding, Shiva opened his mouth again.
"And one more thing,"
The most arrogant smile graced his handsome face.
"Tell her, that no one can touch me."
Though she didn't fully understand what he meant, Laura nodded quickly before bowing to take her leave. She had never been so eager to leave a room this quickly. Her wobbly feet almost knocked her over as she was in such a hurry to reach the door to give you his message.
"He said that?"
You asked Laura after hearing what Shiva told her to tell you. You see her giving you a nod through the mirror.
Evidently, sending him a letter in secret code was the perfect move. To be completely honest, when you first started writing it, you weren't sure if Shiva would get the sense of what you were saying. Even though Laura is now obliged to stand by your side, it is still possible that she will read your letter and use it as a chance to threaten you back if you write it too obviously. One could never be too careful.
You also avoided meeting him so that Snezhnaya's nobles didn't think you were working together. Shiva now knows what might happen in the future, therefore you should start looking into the incident on your own.
The jewelery box on the dresser was opened, revealing various kinds of expensive jewels inside. You took the necklace with the yellow gem and handed it to Laura.
"You have done well."
“T-thank you, Your Highness!” She immediately received it from your hands.
Though you can't really confirm Shiva is completely clear of this incident, you hope it's not him. If Shiva later fails to keep his word and gets 'touched' by the nobles, it's not impossible for them to suspect you, considering you were also at the same table as the King yesterday.
But, if it turns out that Shiva poisoned Snezhnaya's king—Childe's father—then, which side should you take?
A knock on your bedroom door was heard before you found the answer. It swings open when you tell them to come in and shows Countess Sasha. She approaches you, gives you a polite bow before stating her purpose of coming.
"Your Highness, someone is pleading to see you."
You furrowed your brows, "Who?" You don't recall having an appointment with anyone.
"It's Duchess Anna."
You can't hide the uncertainty on your face. Princess Anna? In this situation, what could she possible want to say? When she requests a meeting without an appointment, especially while the entire palace is still in grief, you want to call her out for being impolite, but deep down you are left wondering what compelled her to do that.
With a sigh, you say, "I'll meet her."
One of the drawing room is where you stand after the door closes to give you and the brown haired woman in the seats some privacy. Anna hurriedly stood up to bow to you before raising her head again.
“Your Highness—”
“How impertinent,” You interrupted her without even a smile on your face. “to ask me to meet you outside of an appointment and while we are all still in mourning. Unless you are not grieved by the tragedy that happened?”
A loud gasp escaped her red lips. “No! T-that's not it, Your Highness! I'm come to inform you of an important matter!"
"You ought to be." You said. “Start talking."
Duchess Anna bit her lip in frustration, you really don't spare even small talk. Though, it's quite understandable considering your relationship and what she has done to you (even if that was from your manipulation). She took a breath, preparing herself which you thought was too much of a waste of time.
"About His Highness agreement with my husband which was cancelled,”
Although her words cause you to raise an eyebrow, you choose to keep quiet and let her continue.
The expression on your face should be enough to tell her that you don't like where this conversation is going. Yet like most people, Anna has a cause to defend—in this case, she is fighting for herself.
"I beg you to convince His Highness to make a new agreement with him."
Anna is a lot of things that you can't describe. But, you never thought she would be this lowly. You clicked your tongue in disgust, making sure it was loud enough for her to know the sight of her sickened you.
"And why should I do that?" you ask.
The Duchess locked her jaw, both from frustration and embarrassment at seeing no difference in your expression after hearing her request. “Please, please! I will do whatever you ask of me in exchange for it. Maxim—my husband—threatened to divorce me if I couldn't resolve the situation!” Her voice was full of despair.
Maybe under different circumstances, you would pity her. However, the agreement she was referring to involved Liyue in it, and you forbid anyone to lay a hand on it.
A scoff escaped you. “Is this what you mean by 'important matter'? Not only are you utterly ignorant, you're also disturbing my time of grieving just for things like this.” Your voice is full of poison that shows the shock on her face.
“Your Highness!” Anna screamed as you started to turn around to walk out of the room. “Your Highness! You will regret this!”
How dare she to say that. You gave her one last glance and found her face red from anger. Duchess Anna.. would she come up to you and slap you like the last time?
The next thing she said froze you in place.
“Something bad is going to happen!”
What?
What does she mean by that?
Before you could turn to her and ask what she meant, the familiar excruciating headache made you lose the strength to stand up. Unknowingly, your hand reaches for the doorknob to support your unsteady legs.
A vision. After a long time of not getting one, you receive one in the worst situation. In the next second, you get a glimpse of what the future holds.
It was a man—no, a group of men whose faces you couldn't see clearly. They huddled around a big table to discuss about something. One of them tapped his full ring finger on it to get the attention of the whole room.
"Then it's decided." he started. "On the second day of the throne succession conference, the great plan will be carried out!" He said proudly, “Prince Childe will get what he should have had a long time ago.”
A small vial filled with purple liquid was displayed before he continued with his voice unable to hide a smirk within it.
“This poison is the perfect gift for him.”
The vision ended there as you tried to collect your breath. Your heart is beating too fast for you to realize that your maids are already around you worrying about you.
No..
Fear abounds. You clenched your trembling fists. Behind your head, you draw conclusions from what you just saw.
Someone is planning to kill Childe.
AbbyBianx, ness
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That one tf2 comic scene but it's Dadspy
#heavily inspired by the fic “father-son bonding: two decade roadtrip edition” by thetriggeredhappy#basically spy took jeremy as a child and raised him himself#he took off his mask and gloves to make scout look at the real him for the last time. to feel his hands for the last time#i was listening to mitski while drawing this. it hurted a lot#team fortress 2#tf2#team fortress 2 fanart#tf2 fanart#tf2 scout#tf2 spy#dadspy#spydad
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geyser
series masterlist
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader
summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.
a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song
wc: 6.5k
warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs
also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on
Percy thought that his head might explode.
He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets.
At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.
All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart.
Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown.
“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it.
“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.”
“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?”
Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.”
“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.”
“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him.
“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.”
“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.”
Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”
Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize.
But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size.
The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper.
His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.
There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun.
Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”
That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning.
“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”
“Does she go here?” Percy asked.
“She did.”
He frowned. “Where is she, then?”
“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on.
“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.”
Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed.
Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body.
“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”
Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”
“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”
Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now.
“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”
An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!”
Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away.
He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later.
Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far.
…Gods.
Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought.
-
“Luke—”
“No!”
“Luke, please!”
“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—”
“She won’t know!”
“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!”
Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head.
“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!”
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips.
“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!”
“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.”
“If you say a single word—”
“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.”
“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.
“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.”
“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.”
“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.”
Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile.
“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”
“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.”
“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.”
“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.”
To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.”
“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.”
Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?”
You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”
And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him.
Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable.
Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then…
Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.
But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise.
Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.
You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?”
Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here.
“Never better.”
-
“That one nearly got me,” Luke said.
Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people.
“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said.
Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?”
He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.”
He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.”
Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night.
He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity.
“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”
Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?”
He shrugged. What was he supposed to say?
“I’m curious,” he decided.
Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…
Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her.
“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked.
“And how it killed the cat?”
He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.”
“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.”
Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.”
“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Who’s her parent?”
Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting.
“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.”
Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved.
He had a sister?
“I have a sister?”
“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.”
A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her.
He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young.
Gods.
“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?”
Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.”
One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry.
“How did you meet her?”
“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”
Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school.
“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly.
Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.”
Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”
“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.”
“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”
Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance.
“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.”
The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about.
Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.”
Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.”
-
Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes.
He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy.
“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?”
“Like the world’s about to end,” he said.
Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.”
“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.”
“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.”
Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself.
“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”
Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?”
“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.”
Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”
Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.”
He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off.
“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.”
“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.”
Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.”
Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.”
He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?”
Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.”
Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.
“A happier part, then,” he suggested.
“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.”
In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front.
A letter.
“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.”
Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took.
So he took the letter when Luke offered it.
To the one and only Luke Castellan,
My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.
I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash.
Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this.
But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is.
Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost.
I can’t wait to see you again.
Your hurricane.
It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry.
Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her.
“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.”
Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it.
“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.”
“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”
Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.”
I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke.
“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”
Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.”
He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her.
Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to.
“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…”
Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming.
“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.”
He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”
“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”
Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father.
“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.”
-
After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck.
Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along.
Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked.
“You’re awake,” she said.
“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?”
“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.”
“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.”
They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again.
“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.”
“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.”
Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?”
“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.”
Annabeth went silent.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.”
“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”
“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.”
“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.”
Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?”
“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.”
That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push.
“How did you meet her?” he asked.
Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”
-
For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think.
It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.
The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical.
She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it.
But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind?
Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia—
Where was Thalia?
Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age.
Thalia—
“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.”
“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else.
Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair.
“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?”
Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?
You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids.
“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!”
“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—”
“Annabeth!”
Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt.
“Luke, you’re hurt—”
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.”
“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—”
Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words.
When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years.
“Luke?” you whispered.
Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead—
“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?”
“My friends—”
“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.”
Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.”
So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading.
She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever.
The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought.
-
You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.
You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep.
Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.
You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.
A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock.
“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert.
Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it.
“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story.
You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?”
Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”
You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.”
He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets.
“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?”
“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.”
“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff.
“You know what I mean.”
Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them.
“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?”
“The usual,” you mumbled.
“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked.
You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.”
“The worst sense of dread imaginable?”
“Bullseye.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.”
“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.”
“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.”
Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” you murmured.
You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh.
That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke.
“Can you stay?” you asked softly.
He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”
“Just like old times,” you whispered.
“Just like old times,” he agreed.
Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke.
There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it.
How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead?
Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough.
“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
And by the gods, you believed him.
#reader is the mara of she ra the mikey berzatto of the bear the nellie crain of hill house DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan fic#luke castellan angst#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#pjo x reader#x reader#daughter of poseidon#child of poseidon#sadie writes
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“It, uh. Had a virus.”
“So you smashed it?” Bruce, usually quite composed, looked baffled.
“Yeah?” Tim said, like it should be obvious, “I didn’t want it to spread to my other appliances.”
Bruce looked astounded by Tim’s sheer stupidity.
fanart of ch19 of @wesslan's cards on the table, i read this all last night and its been wired in my brain since then oh my god i love all the silly moments in this fic
#dc#batman#tim drake#bruce wayne#batfam#i love this silly little stalker hustler child#i think this is the first time i've attempted a comic i hope i managed to capture the same vibes as the fic ahh#tuna art#traditional art
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Dannymay 2023
15. Full Hazmat AU & 23. Rogue Gallery
#danny phantom#dannymay2023#full hazmat au#rogue gallery#(the thing I love about full hazmat au is that unless Danny shows his face)#(it would be totally reasonable to assume that he is an adult)#(especially if you don't want to believe a child beat you)#comic#(just gonna add this here since it seems to be coming up a lot)#(This is not a fan art of any specific fic!)#(When I do fanart of fanfiction I always link the fic and tag the person who wrote it)#(I know this is not that original idea and people have already linked multiple good fics in reblogs)#(And I'm sure there are probably even more with similar concept)#(BUT this is still not fanart of any of them)
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⚘ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.
m. - "forevermore" typically refers to something that lasts for an indefinite amount of time or for eternity. it implies a sense of permanence or lastingness.
You've ran away from your husband, the 11th Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia himself. However, have you truly escaped his grasp?
yandere! tartaglia x fem! reader.
The shimmering rays of bright morning sunlight made the living room come to life as you sat in a classic wooden chair, a steaming cup of tea in your hand. It burned your fingers ever so slightly but you could not be bothered to remove them from the cup.
The pain made you not focus on the massive bouquet of flowers which were placed on your pretty white table.
From the corner of your vision, you could see the card which clung onto the fresh bunch of blooms, the handwriting on it disgustingly elaborate but oh so familiar.
"Blood red roses." The card said.
"I always knew that you fancied roses, and I couldn't resist to get you these specific ones when I saw you looking at them."
Bastard. How he had managed to track you all the way to Mondstatd was beyond your comprehension, but in hindsight, you really should have known better. The Fatui could sneak in anywhere they damn well pleased, be it the hustle and bustle of the city of Mondstatd, to the dirty cracks of the Chasm.
It was only natural that the many agents which were stationed in the city would start to talk upon seeing the wife of a Lord Harbinger so far from home.
You concealed yourself at first, obviously. Most unfortunately, word started to spread like wildfire that you had fled in the dead of night, never to be seen by anyone. And, due to the fact that your husband did not possess a single shred of decency in his body, he proudly showed you off wherever he could.
Just the mere thought of the memory made you shudder.
Your good husband was - is - a wealthy man. He made sure to spoil you in the finest of silks known to man and the endless sea of jewelry which was sent your way, if it were to be sold, could feed an entire army.
Although, he was always particular about your arms. He didn't like seeing anything on them except for the, surprisingly, simple wedding ring he got you.
It was a promise, he had told you.
His eternal promise to you, until the end of time. He would love you, in sickness and in health, there was no force in the universe that could separate him from you.
In a way, he was keeping his promise. He made the trip from the homeland straight to the City of Freedom all on his own.
... He probably didn't even need to hear the reports from anyone of your whereabouts. Knowing him, he tracked you down all on his own, using nothing but his wit and sharp senses.
He was a terrifying man. A man you ought to stay away from, a man who had the blood of countless innocent people on his hand. And yet, those same hands would keep you warm during the cold winter, his soft and pale lips would pepper your body with gentle kisses, making you feel as if you were the most beautiful woman in the universe.
Archons, he'd whisper to himself, his breath hot on your neck, making you blush. He would just say whatever came to mind, completely lost in his blind passion.
I want no one else but you - You are my everything - I will make you mine -
Frankly, you did not know how to feel. In those private moments he was less a man and more a lovesick little fool. He could not keep his paws off you, even if he wanted to. As the evening would go on the kisses would evolve into something more, something primal, carnal even. Tongue and teeth would mesh together, leaving a thick string of saliva between him and you, to which he would always let out that darling boyish laugh of his.
You loathed the fact that in those moments, he truly was ethereal, no different than a star.
What made your skin crawl was the effect his touch had on your mind and body. He became something akin to a drug, even now as you felt the sweetness of freedom with your own two hands you still felt the urge to hold something tight at night because your husband had spoiled you rotten with his presence.
Finally, you turned to look at the flowers as the horrible realization dawned on you - you loved him. You loved that man and it was putrid.
You cannot go back. You would not go back to him.
Jumping off a building would be a smarter thing to do.
As you pondered on and on about your predicament, you failed to notice the lingering shadow in your hallway. Deep blue eyes monitored you like a hawk as he toyed with a switchblade he had in his pocket. What should he do with you? He was furious, naturally. You were the last person in the world he wanted discord with. You broke his heart a little when you left and the fact that you didn't even care about his feelings only added insult to injury.
Even so, he could not help but to feel overjoyed by the fact that you hadn't thrown out his gift. He was half expecting you to burn whatever he sent you to the ground, not to mournfully contemplate in deep thought like this.
That was how he knew you loved him. It was crooked and wrong, but he had you. He had you and you didn't even know it. He'd bring down the heavens themselves if it meant that you could feel a fraction of the love he held for you. His lips curled into a sly grin but his heart pounded like clockwork in his chest. This waiting game was so horrible.
But the hunter in him couldn't resist, cornering you like this was just in his nature.
Victory was so close, he could practically taste it. Soon enough, his wife would be in his arms, weeping and apologizing and he would soothe her, like a good husband ought to. Yes, that was how this scenario would play out.
He was too clever to let it happen any other way.
It would be just him and you, perhaps even with a bundle of joy if the Tsaritsa blessed him. Even so, with you here, he had everything he could ever dream of.
Him and you, against the world, standing by each other's side, forevermore.
💋 TAGLIST: @genshinarchives, @saturnalya @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @alatusprinz @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @lakxcpsta @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @cc-6789, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149
This fic was born out of my own pure passion and love for Tartaglia, apologies for the Cringe™ I put you all through.
#coffee shop fics just hit DIFFERENT#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yancore#yanderecore#yandere aesthetic#genshin impact#childe#childe x reader#yandere childe#yandere childe x reader#tartaglia#yandere tartaglia#childe tartagalia#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin impact#genshin harbingers#genshin x reader#genshin x you#yandere male
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sweet child o' mine | masterlist
neighbor!joel x f!reader | ao3 | playlist
joel miller has lived next door - since forever. you've been a pain in his ass - since forever. one drunken night changes everything - forever.
please check out individual chapter content warnings before reading!!! this series features adult content and themes which may be triggering.
series warnings: age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), unplanned pregnancy, discussion of a car accident & dead parents, emotional cheating & some minor/one major instance of physical cheating, smut, angst, fluff.
main series
pt. i
pt. ii
pt. iii
pt. iv
duckie's baby shower
bonus
➵ replaying the wedding night
features
➵ sweet child o' mine moodboard by @sawymredfox
➵ joel and duckie by @knopes-waffles
➵ duckie vs. tomato by @dundienominee
➵ sweet child o' mine moodboard by @rarachelchel
#just a baby series but wanted to keep it neat#sweet child o' mine#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#the last of us#tlou#tlou fic#neighbor!joel miller#neighbor!joel#joel miller smut#pedro pascal#tw pregnancy
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