#i broke my childe hate oath
Text
a game of chase [m.reader]
i told myself i’d never get caught dead doing a solo childe fic bc my friends and i hate him. well. i’m not dead yet. ahdijsidmv. jk i’m just taking a break from a fic i’m writing so have this one-shot :D. idk why but when i thought of this, childe fits for some reason. and when i brought this up with my friend, they only said “yeah, the attention whore checks out”.
𖦹 i have no idea what genre this is, childe pining for you like mad, my indulgent hc of ekaterina being so done with her boss, a little bit of some characters x you
For every unfortunate soul out there that Childe would have the pleasure of coming across, he made a personal ranking of just how good that first meet was. Of course, it didn’t happen until halfway through he realized how much fun it was to catch some opponents off guard. And on times that he has to go and personally fight to collect certain debts for the bank, he always liked the absolute fear he instilled in every person.
Oddly enough, it wasn’t an ambush he created to be the one sitting at the top rank. Rather, it was his meeting with the traveler. It’s not everyday you see someone with a little flying child getting chased by the Millelith the moment they’ve stepped foot in Liyue. It was hilarious, really. And their meet was nothing short of pure amusement.
And yet, even rankings change.
Especially with the way you barged into his not-so-quaint little life.
A quiet stroll through the harbor — that’s all Chile ever needed and he knew he’d be set to sit on his chair for hours on end, doing boring old paperwork and reports to submit to The Jester. It was nothing to exciting, hence his innate need to get out and go for some fresh air. Take it as a preparation for this grueling boredom that he’s about to face. Though his subordinate preferred he start work now, he still was the one who has the last say.
And so here he was.
Children that reminded him of his little siblings loitered around, playing with huge smiles on their faces. It warmed his heart as he thought about his cold motherland where his family was. He ought to head back as soon as he finishes his reports for now. Just a few days with his family will do the trick.
Vendors by their stalls beckoned to him. He is the facilitator of the Northland Bank in Liyue’s Branch. It’s not too odd to be pulled aside constantly to be offered certain goods. They were only doing business, and as someone who has a sizable mora to spare, it wasn’t surprising to be solicited by them.
With a quick wave to the vendors, he rounded the corner. It was the relatively quiet part of the harbor — not often populated by any vendors as it wasn’t quite in the middle of the bustling crowd where anyone could see. It was quiet. And for someone like him who craved the noise of every clanging blades in a spar, the pained grunts of opponents, and the sound of a blunt impact from every landed punch, Childe enjoyed this part.
A subtle pout came onto his features as he realized that it wouldn’t be long before he has to go back and face the music of the cumbersome paperworks.
Well, that would have happened until his keen ears heard hurried footsteps hitting the pavement. He looked over his shoulder only to see someone hellbent on running. His mind quickly deduced the way you ran — calculative in steps and yet still on a hurry.
Is this guy running away from someone?
Hiding away from them too, in fact, as you booked it to his direction, and before Childe could even react, you had a hand on his wrist that not even he can tear away from. Your head snapped towards an alleyway and shoved him in it, with you following after as you caged him in this tight squeeze of a gap.
Childe blinked. And while he had many questions, your tensed silence was enough for him to clamp his mouth shut, with only your short ragged breaths filling the quiet space.
It didn’t take long though before a portion of his hypothesis was quickly answered as he heard dozens of heavy footsteps and clamoring armor heading to the direction where you and him were in. While you were a tad bit taller, he managed to see over your shoulder a couple of Millelith soldiers all in hot pursuit of you, no doubt. His dull eyes looked up at you, and even with the heavy shadow, he could faintly make out your relieved face when the soldiers came to pass.
You both waited for yet another excruciating minute until the soldier’s clanking armors finally drowned out in distance. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you finally shimmied your way out of that tight gap, hand already pulling the little harbinger by the wrist once more.
“Sorry about that,” you finally spoke and Childe had to nod. For once, he was less chattier as he slowly rode out the mild thrill in his system. “I had to leave no witnesses.”
He quickly regained his footing in the conversation and chuckled, “Yeah? And I don’t suppose I’m your only witness?” He asked, adjusting his clothing from all the ruckus of being shoved in a dark corner.
“I ran out of luck hiding. So, yeah. You’re the only witness. And besides, if I move anymore while wearing this, I’m bound to attract more than what I intend — which is none,” You shifted around in your clothing, which now Childe took note of. You were dressed in the finest robes, patterned with the most graceful looking snakes and dragons that were no doubt handwoven by skilled artisans in Liyue.
Childe also happened to look up at your visage, cleaned up nice and well, hair done neatly aside from the little stray hairs that went out of place from what he assumed was your little chase with the Millelith. His brain quickly noticed the incongruence. You looked like an important figure and yet… you were being chased around by the people meant to protect figures that are deemed important.
He cocked an eyebrow, sizing you up and down, and you almost laughed at how hard he concentrated. You kept quiet as you waited for his little guess.
“A politician?” He tried and you quickly shot it down. Though, if Childe was being honest, with that Adeptus working in the Qixing as well as that scary fellow hydro vision and bow user lady, there was no room for corruption in the position of power. And besides, there would have been news around, even through rumors, knowing how well informed Liyue citizens could be.
Childe took a step back before he realized just what in Teyvat you were wearing. Those robes were no ordinary ones — they were a traditional Liyue garment used in ceremonies.
Your grin was evident as he locked in his final answer with a flabbergasted look;
“A runaway groom.”
“Bingo.”
“Well, I’ve heard of brides being whisked away before. But I’ve never heard of a runaway groom.” Childe laughed a little, but even in his dull eyes, a flash of pity and curiosity shone through which did not escape you. “What happened to you, man?”
You waved him off with a charming grin, “Nothing you should concern yourself over, my good friend. I just happened to be the unfortunate son who had to be pawned off to a lovely lady to expand our clan’s horizons.”
“That’s insane.”
“It is. Such is the life of a nobleman. Well, no, not always — just some special nutcases who can’t live without power.”
That was how Childe met you. Through a chase. A chase that decided the path of a good portion of your life.
How ironic was it that now he was trying to determine a certain part of his life through a chase.
Perhaps the fact that you were being chased when he met you was an omen of some sort of how his tumultuous love would end up. Childe wasn’t always superstitious, he only believes in the palpable results, the successes in his every mission, and the triumph that gives him high in every victorious ending in fights. But now, the thought of it was slowly questioning his radically logical mind.
Because now, he was chasing after you. Despite the fact that you’ve settled over your marital affairs, you risked your connections being severed from your family when you refused to marry the woman that waited for you by the ceremonial altar. And when you did, you proved everyone wrong by living a far more comfortable life at the edge of the harbor, managing a little teahouse that Childe had funded in capital for you.
In hindsight, the harbinger’s claims of generating more profit should have been an obvious forefront of how his emotions truly manifested. It was a hulking passionate love that towered over everyone but somehow it could never reach the peak where you sat in peace, making tea and indulging the bliss of your freedom.
Though Childe, despite the rationality that he claims he possesses, can be an unreliable narrator. He lies to protect his family, so it’s not a surprise to say that although true, his imaginative descriptions of his love for you is anything but tragic and complicated.
Simply put — he loves you but you were so, so dense.
Always just a foot away no matter how much he ran to catch up to you. No matter how many times he dropped by your shop that he proudly invested in, bringing you lavish gifts to woo you, all you had to do was smile gratefully, make him tea and it felt like all his efforts in winning your affections reversed into your favor — wooing him instead.
“Boss, have you tried… confronting the bull head on?” Ekaterina sipped on her tea as she looked at her boss with mild disdain, which is justifiable, considering that Andrei would always pass him off to her in his heartbroken rants about you.
A resounding groan left Childe’s lips as he slumped over the table with a lack of grace. He looked up at the bank’s receptionist and glared at her, “Mind your words. He is not a bull.” He said in defense of you, completely missing his subordinate’s point. “He’s more like a… a stallion that I would ri—”
“I will turn in my resignation if you continue that sentence, boss.” Ekaterina says with much defiance. The determination to just resign and perhaps get hired by you instead sounds lovely. Granted, she’d still see Childe and his insufferable pining soul, but she would be busy enough tending to other people to notice him… not to be the catch basin of this man-child’s flooding love troubles.
His blue eyes flitted from corner to corner, eyes narrowing at any unsuspecting man or woman that dared to make a move on you. He was always on the guard, but if anything, if he took Ekaterina’s little piece of advice, he would’ve had no worries. You would reject people with that kind smile of yours and politely tell them off with a claim that you finally have someone else.
Ugh. And you would look so cute with his family too! Teucer made another unprecedented excursion two months ago and was relatively surprised that his big brother made an investment on a teahouse. The way you tended to his little brother like a good big brother or even a father made him feel weak in the knees. Though it wasn’t as fun when Teucer had to be convinced to head back to their motherland, it endeared Childe to see a side of you that rarely comes out unless in the company of the little ones.
The way you acted now was a stark contrast compared to when you and him met. You were mischievous and playful on the first few months in his company, but it was the surface that he was slowly chipping away at — only appreciating your much deeper layers when he saw you fight for your freedom against an undesired matrimony that was being pushed on you. You worked with persistence and diligence in your name and Childe could not get more hot and bothered.
You were so inexplicably interesting. It was no wonder he was just one of the many people who were hoping to have a shot with you — that quiet teahouse owner in the outskirts of the harbor. Hell, even he had to meet that fellow hydro vision and bow user lady twice as she convinced you to come down and work in her establishment.
Childe’s eyes narrowed at the thought of her luring you into her web. Though he knows she means it as a literal job offer at the teahouse and nothing more, he couldn’t shake off the way your eyes seemed to soften around her, growing relatively fond of her appearance.
The harbinger decides that the day Yelan starts to bring in gifts, is the day he urges a business relocation. Maybe somewhere in Wuwang Hill. Anywhere but here.
It also didn’t help that one of your regulars was the charming former archon. He either came alone or brought his tiny superior with him. And on the off chance that Childe comes to pass by, he could see the way you seemed so engaged with the old man, leaning closer as he told his life stories from a thousand years ago, meriting him a melodious laugh that Childe couldn’t hear from the outside.
And while he adored the traveler, he also didn’t like that they’ve been trying to nestle themselves into your cozy abode like a love tick. And it drove him over the edge when you, ever the generous man that you are, would treat them to a cup of tea, free of charge. Like, that was a lost revenue, you annoyingly attractive and scrumptious airhead! That could have been profit!
You are denser than the muscles Childe would subtly feel out in his tight hugs with you. It was annoying. You’re annoying. It’s annoying. He hates it.
He hates you.
“Oh dear, you don’t look too good, Ajax.”
His eyes snapped open as he felt your hands raking through his ginger hair. He almost sobbed at your gentle touch, just going through with ease. He looked ahead to see Ekaterina missing, and from his peripherals, he could see her pouring herself another fresh pot of tea. Ah. Now that he noticed, the teahouse is now quiet, completely void of customers. He supposed it’s already your closing time.
“Had a tough day at work.” He mumbled.
“No, he didn’t.” Ekaterina’s voice echoed from and Childe only huffed.
Laughter rumbled from somewhere deep in your chest and Childe had to restrain himself from just ambushing you with something that he deems as the deciding moment of your relationship. He’s normally impatient, often just wanting to go at it bare hands. Heck, if stated otherwise in a mission, he would directly make contact and fight off the opponent.
But this isn’t a fight. It’s love. It’s raw attraction towards you and for once, Childe who had the boyish charm that could make everyone drop to their knees was at loss.
“Go back to the bank, Ekaterina,” Childe grumbled as he finally sat up from his seat, looking at his subordinate with a pout. “Andrei would scold you.”
“Andrei pays me double to stay with you.”
“I wish Andrei would also pay me double for putting up with him,” you sighed and he almost choked on his own spit, hitting your torso with a glare. You may be dense to his advances, but you still displayed a teasing disposition that no one is safe from. Not even poor him.
He huffed, crossing his arms, “I can just as easily pull out as this teahouse’s investor, y’know? Watch your words, [Name].” His threat was light and empty, and you knew as well — much to his chagrin. “I mean it,” he added for extra measure.
You only gave him a light hum and nodded along, “Of course you do,” your words were in agreement, and yet it only served to invalidate his empty threat towards you. “So, would you like a refill?” You asked, cocking your head in Ekaterina’s direction, who still had a hand on the pot. You were sure she’s gone through about half of it already since the moment she got a hand on it.
Childe’s breath suddenly got caught in his throat as he watched the setting sun’s rays illuminate through your form from the window. You looked absolutely breathtaking and suddenly, the moment felt right. You were only a few inches away, but as his foot moved to take a step, he felt restricted, bound by the chains of uncertainty as he watched you take a step away, your distance growing by a foot. Again, you were a foot away. After he hesitated when he was so close to just… claim you right there.
He coughed before nodding, “Yeah. Sure,” his voice, painfully stiff and strained.
The harbinger was quick to blame it on the fact that Ekaterina didn’t leave you two alone for some space.
But he knows that she was hardly the reason, not when his heart thudded with regret as he watched you walk over to his subordinate and wrestle the pot away from her. Not when his heart continued to hammer against his chest as his emotions went into another overdrive of absolute adoration.
Not when he can finally feel the chains loosen against his heart when he finally, absolutely without a doubt realized you truly were the one.
#i regret making this#i broke my childe hate oath#jk JAJDKSMDC#childe will forever pine that’s the only saving grace in this fic#there was a first version of this where reader is a manwhore#but eh i want something cute#because childe aint cute#genshin impact x male reader#childe x male reader#tartaglia x male reader#jhuzen’s stupid one shots
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Percy Jackson & Triton Fic Recs
A list of fic recommendations with Percy and Triton's relationship as brothers.
Wait, No, Stop! by PunkFlame
G | 1.0k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Triton
Seafam, Brotherly Bonding, Mer Percy Jackson
"I'll go and tell Father, or better yet, Mother, that you're abandoning your precious baby brother in his time of need."
The Crown Prince froze and immediately whipped back around, and stared his brother dead in the eyes. "You wouldn't dare."
A Pain in My Ass by PunkFlame
Not Rated | 1.1k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Triton
Seafam, Brotherly Bonding, Fluff
Triton froze then jolted forward.
He zoomed towards him, grabbed him by the shoulders, and spun him back around. "Don’t say that. Take it back."
Questions Unanswered by EclecticPhoenix
G | 1.2k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Triton
Brotherly Bonding, Triton is a Good Sibling, Fluff and Angst
Triton never gave much thought to his bastard half-brother. Not after their first meeting.
It was supposed to be an easy job to lend a helping hand as a favor to one of his oldest friends. It also worked out perfectly because Triton needed a small break.
He did not expect to meet the demigod that had the divine world wound up.
Zoo Day by PunkFlame
G | 1.5k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Triton
Brotherly Bonding, Insecurity, Hurt/Comfort
"I am unsure as to how much you know about me and my myths."
"Only a bit," He admitted, "But I tend to build my knowledge off of first hand encounters, rather than some old texts."
Triton nodded, "Did you know that I had a daughter?"
Percy drew his eyebrows together, "Had?"
"Her name was Pallas."
ευσεβή αδέρφια by GravityEffect17
G | 1.6k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson & Poseidon
Abused Percy Jackson, Good Parent Sally Jackson, Good Sibling Triton
Triton has a mortal sibling. His father broke his oath.. Triton should dislike his sibling. But...He can't. Watching the child crying themselves to sleep. Triton couldn't hate them.
the waters connect them, unseen by Nightingale231
T | 2.0k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Poseidon & Triton
Family Fluff, Good Sibling Triton, Atlantis
Delphin doesn't know how they're doing it, but somehow it works. He can see Prince Perseus' body change a little, pink and blue scales bubbling just under his skin as King-prince Triton forces him to own up to his heritage. They are so similar in their instinct even when they are different. It's strange, especially to an outsider who happens to know that they didn't grow up together, because looking at them now - clashing but together, a force to be reckoned with - he wouldn't have been able to tell.
(Percy, Triton, and Poseidon experiencing each other, from the views of outsiders and, eventually, themselves.)
We are the warriors that learned to love the pain by Violettavonviolet
G | 2.9k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson & Annabeth Case, Percy Jackson & Poseidon
Hurt/Comfort, Hybrid Percy Jackson, Touch Starved
When people touched him, they usually flinched and took a few steps back. Some got really pale in the face and once, a teacher had fainted after grabbing his arm. He didn’t really get why, other people never seemed to have the problem, but that was just another way he was special.
The only person that ever really touched him was his mom, but even she was hesitant and he knew she hurt just as much as everyone else. It was his fault. His freaky body.
It felt unfair, kind of, that so many kids had these traits, but only Percy was debilitated by them. He wanted a hug. He wanted to high-five Grover and give Annabeth a fist-bump. Hell, he couldn’t even train normally, because his opponents couldn’t touch him. It made him hate himself. Hate his Dad. Hate the fates.
--
Percy had returned from the stupid quest with Annabeth and had stupidly touched the statue, leaving him gasping on the ground, as a coldness like never before spread through his entire body.
Distantly, he could hear Annabeth shout and try to touch him, but he hurriedly rolled away, she couldn’t touch him!
or: Percy inherits some fun blowfish traits and when trouble comes, he has to turn to his family for help
behind this mask by Sappho_of_Space
T | 3.0k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Triton, Poseidon & Triton, Percy Jackson & Poseidon
Character Study, Triton is Protective, Undersea Family
Triton had never been a big fan of his younger brother. His mortal younger brother. But, Percy was of the sea, just as him. The same ichor flowed in their veins. When someone threatens Percy, Triton only did what came naturally.
terrorbane by Nightingale231
T | 3.3k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo, Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson & Poseidon
Powerful Percy Jackson, Brotherly Bonding, Good Sibling Triton
He laughs, wild and free with the power that come of the Storm and the Seas, and lets the earth beneath him give him strength as the Storm does around him. Zeus may be the god of thunder, of lightning, and the ruler of the Winds, but he was not the god of the storms. The Storm and the Seas envelop him as the earth feeds him its strength, and he keeps laughing. It tears itself out of his throat just as he tears a bloody trail through the horde of monsters and leaves nothing but the hint of gold dust suspended in the air.
-
Or, Percy comes into his full powers, Triton and Poseidon are good family members, and Percy is a fucking badass.
Triton's no good, very bad day by Ghxst_Bird
T | 3.5k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson & Poseidon
Misunderstandings, Undersea Family, Deity Percy Jackson
While Poseidon and Triton contemplate why Percy does not want to accept godhood Percy has a surprise in store for them... if only Triton and him didn't decide to spar.
aka. Waiting for others to deduce a surprise may lead to catastrophic events. such as the flooding of the entire Atlantic Coast. I don't make the rules.
Triton: Professional Date Crasher by anxious_tofu
T | 5.2k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson & Kymopoleia
Fluff, Sibling Bonding, Established Relationship
Percy finally bonds with Triton only to run into one, tiny problem. He won't stop interrupting Percy's dates.
Get Well by PunkFlame
Not Rated | 6.8k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Amphitrite
Chicken Pox, Protective Triton, Family Feels
Normally Percy wasn’t huge on physical contact, which is what made the demigod utterly melting into him - and even nuzzling against his chest - all the more bewildering.
Not that a single thing in the past few minutes made much of any sense.
Firstly Percy never prayed to him, so hearing him do so filled the god with trepidation.
Despite whatever situation he thought he would find the demigod in, not for a moment did the messenger even consider that his brother would be lying face first in a bathtub, one foot hooked over the edge of the tub, and the other wedged in the corner.
What had happened to him now?
I'm Not Inclined to Resign to Maturity by Butterflies_Stormclouds
T | 14k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson & Kymopoleia
Family Issues, Prince Percy Jackson, Seafam
Triton found himself investigating the recent spate of thefts from the palace kitchens. With an eccentric father, pestering cousins, and a recently legitimized self-sacrificing demigod, what could possibly go wrong?
Love Blooms From Within by PunkFlame
T | 16k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson & Amphitrite
Hanahaki Disease, Undersea Family, Happy Ending
Percy grabbed a tissue from the nearby box to cough into, only to nearly faint when he caught sight of what was nestled in the bloody mess.
“Are those… petals?”
He pushed it to the back of his mind, and tried his very best to forget all about them. Even though the cough and the petals never truly went away.
____
All Percy ever wanted was his Father's love. Some brotherly love would certainly have been nice too, but how could they possibly ever love someone as fleeting as him?
(Hanahaki with a familial twist.)
The Sea Does Not Like to Be Restrained by PunkFlame
T | 20k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson & Amphitrite
Protective Triton, Atlantis Centric, Family Bonding
As it turns out, when a demigod rejects their godly parent’s domain with such vehemence, the god and their child could become entirely severed from one another.
There was little knowledge on the matter, the bottom line seemed to be that if the two did not mend the sever, Perseus would slowly fade away and die, step by step loosing more and more of himself as his soul desperately tried to mend the gaping hole in itself.
Triton couldn't even imagine. The most terrifying concept to him was piece by piece loosing what made him who he was.
To have parts of oneself ripped from one's very soul until they remain a husk of what they once were, there were scarcely worse things.
How to Avoid a Prophetic Death by PunkFlame
G | 24k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson & Amphitrite
Protective Triton, Baby Percy, Triton Raises Percy
"What in Hades have you just handed me?”
The King looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “An infant?”
“No Father. I'm well aware of that. But why the-” He took a moment to calm and collect himself, “Father? Why do you have a demigod?”
“I don't.” Poseidon replied simply, holding his empty hands up, “You do. If I were to have a demigod, he would be doomed to a tragic Fate. If you, my son, were to have a demigod, he could live a long life tucked away where no one would dare come and take him from you.”
Fishing in Alaska by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle
G | 112k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Poseidon
Family Feels, PTSD, Triton is a Good Sibling
[Note: fic was deleted from ao3. Link is to a google drive copy. The hassle is worth it].
“This… this would qualify as a mental breakdown, right?” Triton asked, frowning over his shoulder to where Percy was still fuming in the corner. The lady at the counter curiously glanced over before lifting a questioning brow. “My brother – half-brother, technically, I have much better breeding – decided to run away from home to where our father can’t reach him and now he won’t leave. And now I can’t leave unless he leaves,” Triton continued.
Percy opened his mouth to object that wasn’t what happened at all, but the tyrant only waved a hand to silence him. “He’s seen war or whatever, so if you could maybe just drug him then I’ll throw him into a suitcase and we can be out of here by the Summer Solstice!”
Silence. Finally, the woman cleared her throat and turned to Percy.
“I’m guessing he’s the one you want checked into the mental hospital?” She asked. Triton gasped as Percy punched the air in victory.
“Aha!”
Or: Getting in trouble works a little differently when your parent is an all-powerful god. Sometimes you have to escape to the land beyond gods and get your immortal brother turned human to drag you back so you can be exploded a million pieces. You know, normal teenage stuff.
Hold Tight and Pretend It's a Plan by Rynna_Aurelius
M | 112k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Triton
Time Travel Fix It, BAMF Percy Jackson, Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Olympus has fallen.
The second Gigantomachy has ended far differently than the first, and in Gaea's triumph, the world has been torn apart. But the Fates have seen what ends their failed meddling have brought, look on at the dead—and undo what should never have happened the only way they possibly can.
Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon, is returned to his twelve-year-old self, memories intact and determined to save everyone he can. But he is not alone.
The Moirai underestimated the strength of the Lord of Time when stealing his power, and there is something about this particular demigod brat that intrigues him. . .
Perseus Jackson came roaring to life with a violent gasp, green eyes wild. After a moment of panicked flailing and struggling to breathe, his fear-filled gaze settled upon a girl with blonde hair and stormy grey eyes, her face stern and unimpressed.
"You drool in your sleep."
Part 1 of Sing, O Muse (OF Heroes Once More)
Who Would Dare? by PunkFlame
T | 120k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Amphitrite
Extreme Medical Trauma, Prince Percy, Undersea Family
"Listen." Triton's voice cut through Percy’s haze "We both know you're hurt, but you don’t have to play the hero. Now let me see your damn wound."
Percy nodded, opening up his stance and allowing Triton to approach him. He lifted the hem of Percy’s shirt carefully, to reveal an inch deep gash that stretched from the top of his shoulder to his upper thigh.
Triton froze, eyes widening in disbelief, but he remained silent. He reached out but stopped himself just short of touching the wound. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and grave.
"Tell me who did this to you... Now."
________
Triton, at Poseidon's request, goes to seek out Percy; however, he finds him on the brink of death, and brings him back to Atlantis in an attempt to save his life.
What will this mean for them, what will this mean for the royal family as a whole, and who would dare to have done this in the first place?
ATLOP: Trial by Fire by WardofWinters (QoLife)
T | 225k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson & Grover Underwood
BAMF Percy, Water bender Percy, Smart Percy
Percy was having a normal day at the beach, until he decided to try to waterbend like Katara from his favorite show.
Problem is, he succeeds. Now he has to figure out how to waterbend, and keep the normal people from finding out they have a waterbender in their midst.
Finding out he's actually a child of Poseidon will probably explain a few things.
Part 1 of To Make a Legend
#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#rec list#rick riodan#rrverse#ao3#pjo#hoo#heroes of olympus#triton#king triton#poseidon#poseidon & percy#triton & percy#annabeth chase#percy x annabeth#percy pjo#percy jackson/annabeth chase#percy/annabeth#seafam#seafam fics#seafam rec list
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Am I the only one disappointed with season 3 of The Mandalorian?
Contains SPOILERS - so skip if you don’t wanna know
Tonight was, painful.
I’ve REALLY been trying to hang on with an open mind but after tonight, there’s no going back.
And I’ve got some things to get off my chest.
Din Djarin has had NO character development from the sacrifice he made for Grogu’s life. This has been inarguably, the biggest disappointment for me. I was hoping for a season of exploration of a man’s moral compass and worldview being hauled upside down, a young boy who’d been orphaned, traumatised and taken in by a cult that raised him with titanium religious beliefs. Who grew into a hardened bounty hunter but gave up everything he knew for the sake of a lost child. Became shunned for protecting said child and despite doing what he felt was right, strived to seek redemption and forgiveness. There was so much potential for Din as a character in terms of growth and development, all of which was swept under a rug within the first two episodes. He has instead become apart of Disney’s formula of “the boss ladies side bitch” with nothing to add to the scene but his catchphrase “this is the way”. That and the sudden revival of his hate for droids even though he had been working on that issue in past seasons.
Grogu is more or less the commodity Disney grew cash dollar signs in their eyes over for the sake of product marketing and just have him doing cutesy shit for the sake of being cutesy.
And then there’s Bo Katan.
Now disclaimer - I’m not the type that hates an actual person for a character they play. Yes, I’ve never liked Bo Katan (that much I’ve made clear in recent posts) but I also think that Katee Sackhoff does a brilliant job playing a character as such. And to see her come to life in season 2 was incredible and to me, Bo Katan from season two is the REAL Bo Katan.
Because I’m sure as hell disappointed with what they’ve done to her character in season 3. Bo Katan was a terrorist who broke away from Mandalore unable to accept a new direction in leadership from her own sister. She massacred and terrorised innocent people, she plotted towards the death of her sister, splintered off from her terrorist group after the throne of Mandalore was taken by Maul and continued to fight against his loyalists and later the empire itself.
And we all saw the look of death on her face when Gideon pointed out that the dark Sabre belonged to Din
This isn’t someone I was rooting for but this was someone who didn’t know when to give up and would go to any means possible to get what they wanted. This is the same woman who made an oath in the throne room of Mandalore, saying that an outsider would never rule the people. The odds were against her in many ways yet she still fought like hell…. Where is that woman? And who replaced her with Disney’s first emo teen princess whose suddenly forgotten her xenophobic upbringing?
And as for Lizzo and Jack Black’s appearances in episode six?
My partner said it best when he commented that they turn the whole show into a parody of itself.
Personally, I found Christopher Loyd’s character as flat as cardboard and an absolutely pointless goose chase used to build up momentum all to throw away the opportunity for a twist ending.
It really breaks my heart to see the series diminish into what it has. The whole reason people fell in love with the show was due to Din and Grogu’s father son dynamic and that’s all been thrown to the side in favour of other characters, setting up for the future of other shows and tying off the ends to the sequels.
Season three completely lacks the drive and purpose of the previous seasons.
It should and could have been so much more than what it is.
And Din Djarin deserved more depth in his story then to be abandoned to the side lines.
#the mandalorian#mandalorian season 3#din djarin#pedro pascal#star wars#mando#mando spoilers#mando fanfiction#katee sackhoff
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stray kids as d&d characters
NOTE: ITS FINALLY HERE!!!! Remember, these are just my opinion and how I would classify them in D&D. You can have your own perspective, just don't be a hater about it. I also know that my D&D knowledge isn't perfect. Don't judge me.
current masterlist | fic recs
Party/Campaign Concept: After being shunned and running away from his tyrant family and corrupt kingdom, Bang Chan the "Reject Prince" is on a mission to bring peace and justice to the world. However, he knows that he would not be able to accomplish the goal of peace and justice by himself. On his travels, he meets other like-minded individuals who have been tossed aside by an unjust society. By banding together, this group will make it their mission to achieve peace for all - but first, they have to learn how to work together!
Bang Chan: Human Paladin
From the moment he was born, Bang Chan knew he didn't fit in. Born into privilege and royalty, Chan quickly noticed that there was a right and a wrong way to use his power - and his family was using it wrong. He saw his family were tyrants, thirsty for power and corrupt beyond all imagining. They used people, abused people, and hoarded wealth and power as if it would disappear in an instant. It never sat right with Chan, the way his kingdom and his people were treated, like they were disposable. So, when he came of age, he decided it was time to stand up against the royals and high born who allowed this misuse of justice and equality. He swore an oath of justice and peace, and ran from his kingdom on a quest to find other like-minded people to join him in his fight for good. His years of training in combat and knighthood served him well as he began his fight, especially when he would come across oppression. That is how he met the other members of his official party - each person was caught in an unjust situation. Bang Chan could not stand for it, and so he fought to ensure their release and safety. He will achieve peace one day, with his friends by his side, no matter what.
Lee Know: Human Warlock
Lee Know grew up alone. The moment he was born, all his royal parents saw was a threat to their rule and popularity. It did not help that as he grew, his beauty grew as well. To prevent him becoming too popular with the people, Lee Know's parents locked him alone in a tower to rot. The only time he was allowed out was when the leaders of the kingdom next to theirs came to visit - Bang Chan's family. Lee Know and Bang Chan understood each other's struggles, and made a promise to help each other in their time of need. While locked in his tower, Lee Know was visited by a trickster entity who had begun feeding on Lee Know's loneliness. To help with the loneliness, Lee Know made a deal with the entity, and was blessed with illusion magic to keep him entertained. That was, until, the day Bang Chan came and broke him out of his tower. Bang Chan told Lee Know about his oath of justice, and that his first mission was to free him from his tower. From then on, with his illusion magic, Lee Know would never be alone again - and he would make sure no one ever would be again.
Changbin: Human Barbarian
Changbin always knew he was strong. He had a habit of breaking things even as a small child, and everyone learned very quickly to not mess with him when he was hungry. His family tried to fight the rage out of him, but all they ended up doing is fueling his fire more. If there's one thing he learned to hate more than being hungry, it was being told what to do and how to be - especially if it meant being anything less than himself. He was tossed out on the street once his family realized that they could not change him, but Changbin didn't even blink. All he wanted was to be himself, not what people expected him to be. While traveling, Changbin garnered a reputation for being a little aggressive, a little scary, but also for being kind and justice-oriented. Unfortunately, there were many who did not take kindly to Changbin's aggressive means of achieving good. One night, he heard a child screaming and crying. He broke down the door and saw that the parents of this child were hurting the child for a simple mistake. Changbin not only picked up this child and ran, but left a lot of property destruction in his wake. He was quickly arrested by the local authorities and was tossed in jail indefinitely for his "crimes". He was stuck until Bang Chan arrived, seeing the whole thing go down, and broke him out of jail. Changbin, from then on, was free to be his whole self, fighting for justice with all his power.
Hyunjin: Human Monk/Fighter
All Hyunjin knew was two things - the monastery, and the fact that he wasn't wanted. Hyunjin had been left to an extremist, very strict group of monks when he was just an infant because his birth family thought he was "too much". Hyunjin would later learn that this monastery was actually a cult, but he never would have been able to understand that as a child. Growing up, he was trained in every form of physical combat to perfection. If he made a mistake in training, or in his daily chores, he would be beaten senseless to "prevent it from happening again". When he grew older, he would also be employed to "discipline" the younger members of the monastery. Eventually, Hyunjin snapped - no one should endure this physical torture for the sake of "perfection". His snap led him to speak and act out of turn, leading to one of the most extreme forms of discipline - exile and exposure. The monks tied him to a tree, blindfolded, in the middle of the woods to die for his "crimes" of speaking out. That is how Bang Chan found him, angry, tired, and close to succumbing to the elements. Bang Chan released Hyunjin and took the time to heal him. From then on, Hyunjin could use his power and skills to do what he really wanted - fighting for justice.
Han Jisung: Human Druid
Han Jisung was born into a normal family, or so he thought. Despite being a happy kid, Han Jisung's family bore a lot of resentment towards him. They had never really wanted children, but here he was. At five years old, his family convinced him to go off into the woods to search for "something they needed". Being the good kid, Han Jisung went willingly, not knowing he had been tricked and left for dead. It was days before he was found by a family of bears who took pity on the little cup and began to raise him. Growing up in the wild allowed Han Jisung to learn the powers of the wild, and instead of a bear, he found himself in a quokka form which was more in tune with his nature. He remained in the wild until he became an adult, when poachers entered his forest and captured him while he was exploring in his wild shape form. Despite its toll on his power and energy, Han Jisung was forced to remain in wild shape, just waiting to be sold to the highest bidder, once again being taken advantage of. That was, until, the Reject Prince and his crew broke into the poacher's hideout to release all the animals. At his release, he grew back into his human form, scaring the living daylights out of the ragtag group. They welcomed him with open arms, finally being the family that he deserved to be a part of. Now, he could use his connections and his kindness to care for those who have been taken advantage of.
Felix: Human Paladin
Felix never really understood why things were they way they were. He was born the bastard son to Bang Chan's father, the corrupt ruler of the kingdom. Growing up, all he saw was how hard his half-brother Bang Chan worked, how much he cared, how kind Bang Chan was, and how he never received any credit or praise. Felix understood why the family hated him as a bastard, but never the pure-blood son when all Bang Chan wanted was change and peace. As much as Felix wanted to speak up and defend his half-brother and his ideas, he knew there was nothing that he could do. As a bastard, they wouldn't even acknowledge his presence let alone his voice - at best, he would be banished, at worst...who's to say. The day that Bang Chan ran from the kingdom was the day that Felix finally realized just how trapped he had been as well. Then, he heard about how Bang Chan broke Lee Know out of his tower. Felix knew then it was time for his liberation as well; and so, he ran and never looked back. He finally caught up to Bang Chan and Lee Know in some random village in the outskirts of Lee Know's kingdom. Bang Chan knew he could never send Felix back to the palace knowing the consequences that Felix would face, and so, he brought in his half-brother to his party. If Felix could see how important that love, justice, and acceptance was like Bang Chan did, then there was nothing that could stop them.
Seungmin: Human Bard
If there was one thing that was obvious about Seungmin from the time he was born, its that he was exceptionally gifted with music and art. The only problem was, the village that they lived in was ruled by an awful wealthy tyrant who had outlawed music, performance, and laughter. This, however, did not stop him from going out into the village and performing songs for his neighbors anyways to earn money for his family, leading to him constantly being in trouble. It became more and more dangerous as he grew older because the consequences of him breaking the rules became much more dire. This came to a head one day when Seungmin was an adult. A small child in the village was upset and crying because they got separated from their parents. Seungmin, who happened to be passing by while running errands, saw the child and felt that he had to do something, so he began to strum a tune on his lyre to calm them down. While the child did calm down for a moment, it was ruined the instant that Seungmin was kicked to the ground from behind, being roughed up by the tyrant's guards for breaking the rules. Seungmin was tossed in jail, and had his lyre destroyed right in front of him. Seungmin began to lose hope, knowing there was no way that he could afford a new lyre at this point. He sat, silently mourning his future in his cell, until a commotion began outside. It was Bang Chan and his group, coming to liberate his town from the evil tyrant. They broke Seungmin out of his cell and had him help them return the wealth back to the people of the village. Once their work was done, Seungmin asked to join them, becoming their mood-maker and greatest cheerleader as they continued their journey of justice and peace.
Jeongin: Human Druid/Rogue
Jeongin's first memories were of being stuck in a cage, experimented on by a scientist who was determined to create the perfect hybrid of human and animal. Jeongin learned very early on that all the scientist really cared about was control and violence. While the scientist prepped Jeongin for his next phase of testing, Jeongin snapped and attacked the scientist, destroying the lab before bolting out into the cold fresh air. Jeongin had never seen the outside world, so he ran into the woods, hoping that he would never have to go back again. There Jeongin survived for years, sneaking in and out of woods and small villages to gather things to help him survive. When he came of age, he realized that he had developed an animal form - the form of a small, large-eared fox. This form caused him to become even craftier, stealing items large and small to keep to himself - the only things that were ever "his". That is, until he was found trying to steal a sandwich from Changbin's bag as the large group was passing through the woods. Bang Chan, noticing Jeongin's small form even as a fox, decided to take Jeongin into the group. Clearly, if he was silent and crafty enough to sneak up on Changbin and ballsy enough to try and steal his food, then clearly this kid had potential. Despite his skittish nature, and his tendency for hoarding things, Jeongin quickly learned that Bang Chan and the rest of the group were trustworthy and full of love to share. Jeongin knew that his urchin days were behind him, using his skills and his fox form for good.
#stray kids#stray kids imagines#stray kids headcanons#stray kids drabbles#my musings#stray kids au#bang chan#lee know#lee minho#changbin#hyunjin#han jisung#felix#seungmin#jeongin#i.n
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Garp once got cussed out by Sun's personality au Luffy when he had seastone on and Garp didn't know how to react.
OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOH--
Garp saw Luffy, drenched an tangled in the seastone net, and he wasn't making a sound. Garp didn't care to notice, he marched over to where Luffy was sat on the ship deck and covered his fist in a bit of haki, before punching the kid in the head.
Instead of rubber Garp's knuckles hit a solid skull, Luffy's head snapped down with the force, his teeth clacking together and his head didn't bounce back like it was supposed to. Luffy didn't whine, or yell or even cry. He just sat there. So Garp broke the silence. "You brat! This is what I get for raising you?! You're still a damned pirate!" He went to, because it was easy, he'd said it a hundred times before, he'd likely say it a hundred times again. He didn't bring up anything, he didn't mention that now, Luffy would never be a marine - now that his parentage was out.
Luffy finally raised his head, and Garp almost relieved at the return to normalcy; he was about to yell about how he was gonna be a pirate whether Garp liked it or not, and whine like a kid about not wanting to be a marine, just like back in the good old days when Garp could fit all three of his grandsons in one arm.
"You didn't raise me. You killed the man that raised me." Luffy grit, and the eyes that met Garp's were not grumpy, or even teary like when he last saw his grandson on Ace's final stage. Luffy was looking at him in a way Garp hadn't seen in a decade, the way Ace used to look when he thought too long. Hatred, grief, mistrust, the kind of look you had to earn.
Garp's teeth grit in turn. "Ace made his choice--"
"You made the choice to get in my way. Don't you dare accuse Ace of deserving what happened and don't act like I'm a child who doesn't understand exactly what you chose." Luffy hissed, his whole form shaking, his face pale and his pupils pinpricks. On his knees he was the same height he was when Garp would ruffle his hair and carry him when he fell asleep, but now Garp faced a man.
"I swore myself to the marines--"
"You were the closest thing Ace had to a father!" Luffy yelled, trying to get to his feet but his eyes glazed over and he fell to his knees again. He was breathing harshly. "Maybe it's a pirate thing, maybe it's because I'm a outlaw but I would have given up every oath I have if it mean't Ace kept his promise to not die! I would have sold myself to the marines in an instant if it meant Ace got the chance to live the life he wanted!" He barked. "But that's not justice, is it? Justice is hunting children, shooting down free men and bowing to the masters who would take your life because all they've ever known is to take! I hate you!" He thrashed in the seastone net, but it did nothing.
Garp stared at the man that used to be his brash, weepy grandson. The man who used to beg Garp to train him more if only to stay on the island a little longer. The man who used to come back to Dadan's with large bruises, broken bones and a smile because he got just a little closer to Ace that day. The man who loves so completely and unconditionally he doesn't mind bleeding for it. The man who couldn't lie. The man who said he hated Garp, after his love ran out of excuses.
Garp looked at the man, truly looked at him past the resemblance he had to Garp's youngest grandson.
Because his grandson, the only one he had left, was gone.
#one piece#sun's personality au#Garp's got no family left for him <3#Sucks to suck#Go off Luffy yeah you're having an awful time rn but ur words r gospel ✨
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Hi!! I’m not sure if you are still writing the nights watch Luke fic or if it will even be jaceluke, but I have tidbits that I’d like to share that you are welcome to use. You previously answered my ask about this au so felt the desire to share more. First: I am HERE for Arrax losing his tiny bit of color as a reaction to living up north. This dragon is going to be a chameleon up there. I also am someone who is really interested in the magic of the wall and the reactions dragons have to it. It makes me wonder if they are reacting to the different flavor of magic that built the wall OR are the dragons actually sensing the others and that’s what causing their negative reaction. If it’s the former, I think the magic of the wall would act as a sort of vaccine for Arrax’s own magic. Sort of like exposing him to the virus gives him stronger protection against it…and in this case the growth of Arrax’s magic causes him to grow at the same rate that Dany’s dragons do. I’m talking Arrax being the size of Syrax when Luke is 8, Seasmoke by 10, and Meleys’ size by the time the Driftmark trial occurs. Jokes on ALL of the greens. Up there in the north, with that magic burning itself into his brain, it’s a grow or die situation. Also? The best part of this au with Arrax magically growing? Luke has to learn to ride him without a saddle. There’s no dragon pit and no dragon masters were sent because Arrax was such a tiny thing and they all believed he would perish in the cold. They also all believed Luke would send word when Arrax was big enough to ride to request a saddle (he didn’t want the greens knowing about Arrax). Luke also begins to wear wildling clothing in order to camouflage himself against archers. Him wearing Karsi’s outfit makes me squeal. The brothers hate seeing him in these clothes but they can’t deny the safety it brings him.
Okay more tidbits you are free to use: I love the idea that the commander assigns Luke to grow up at Eastwatch by the Sea because that’s the easiest way for Corlys to visit him. This leads to him interacting with the wildling fisher folk of that area. More politically minded: I have this idea that when Viserys punished Luke this way, Daemon can’t help but be his chaotic self and interject. He states that Luke will not be made to swear the oath’s of the brotherhood until Rhaenyra’s unchallenged ascension to the throne; he will be a ward of the watch till then. This is something Viserys immediately agrees to because Luke is still a child and he is dumb enough not to read into the ‘unchallenged’ bit of that contract. Otto only agrees because he severely underestimates the way Luke will charm the night’s watch making them all but immune to Otto’s machinations. (They send Otto fake reports and act their asses off when it comes to being loyal to the greens). Basically this contract Daemon creates provides an excuse for Luke not to be bound by oaths and the second the greens make their move he is no longer obligated to be a brother. This is also a loophole that Corlys uses to the fullest, stating that since Luke is not to be sworn in then he can still remain heir until that point. Daemon and Corlys all but insure that Luke’s future and position in life is not stolen from him because they both know the greens will rebel, freeing him from Viserys decree. And it means that if Aemond says Luke is still in debt because he left the watch, well…Aemond’s family stole away that payment themselves. Luke would have done his duty and repaid the debt but the greens broke faith first. Luke is no longer beholden to him.
Finally: because I can’t help myself and I am utterly obsessed with the way you talk about Daeron…let’s include this little guy. Can you imagine that while the greens are keeping Viserys death a secret from the blacks, Otto instructs Daeron to fly north and escort (capture and take hostage) Luke? He must force Luke to swear his oaths with the maw of Tessarion behind him. No doubt the commander of the watch will heed a command from the hand of the king and everyone knows the child’s dragon probably froze to death because it hasn’t spotted so taking Luke will be met with no resistance. Cue Daeron landing and seeing a snowy hill move, only for giant white wings to burst out, stretching to block the sun against a stark blue sky. OR…hear me out…Tessarion throws Daeron from his saddle the more Daeron tries to force her closer to the wall. He passes out and is found none other than our pearl of eastwatch who brings him back to the castle to treat his injuries (conveniently finding the letter and learning of Viserys death and Aegon’s crowning). While I am firmly of the mind this would be a great au for jaceluke, I do love Daeron softly falling in love with a sad boy and his feral giant dragon. Feel free to use/adopt ANY of this is you so wish. You’re writing is lovely and I’m so excited if you decide to continue with this au
Nights watch Luke and the eventual Jaceluke that’ll bloom within is still in progress albeit coming along very…very slowly, lol. Let me tell you something anon, your interest with the magic of the wall is a dream come true for me since I too have been fascinated with the outright mysterious nature of it. What really solidified this fascination for me was Silverwing straight up refusing to cross that boarder the wall built to the other side. It really makes you wonder exactly why dragons refuse to cross it and what emotions did Alysanne feel coming from Silverwing that disturbed her. Did she sense danger and go “nope, not doing that. Sorry babes” or did the walls magic make crossing over physically impossible??? This fic is basically giving me a chance to take that mystery, throw in my own theories and run with it since I have several theories and let me tell you babe, you’re basically a mind reader seeing as I’ve already made some outlines predicting Arrax’s enhanced growth! It only makes sense since out there in the cold its basically do or die for a baby like him. Arrax has no choice but to adapt not only in more natural ways like his color leaving so he’ll be able to blend in with his new environment, but in more supernatural ways such as going from a babe that can’t yet be ridden to challenging Syrax in size in less than three years even though such a thing is practically unheard of even for creatures that can live for hundreds of years. That mysterious magic from the other side tearing its way through this small thing like a sickness leaves Arrax to start exhibiting symptoms akin to a human fever almost immediately. It leaves the brother’s downright confused for a multitude of reasons. These men know little of dragons but what they do know is they aren’t known to get sick unless death is on the horizon… at least not like humans do.
Baby Arrax hobbling his way into the cloudy snow in the middle their third night there and disappearing for weeks leaving little Luke an outright mess. Crying, shaking, and basically mourning his dragon as even as young as he is, Luke knows the cold would likely kill his bonded. At this point the watchmen have already decided to protect him and do what they can to calm the little prince down (who in the hell would even damn a boy barely weaned off his wetnurse to such a fate *stares daggers into Viserys*) However, when the sound of heavy wings rings thick through the air weeks later and the sight of a slightly larger and much less orange dragon comes into view Luke nearly passes out.
And omg, I never thought of Luke learning to ride without a saddle?! Originally I planned for Rhaenyra to have a few commissioned in the weeks before Luke’s final departure all sized appropriately for when the time comes, but I like your idea so much better. It ties in with the almost beastly, boaderline raised alongside the wolves atmosphere i’m trying to create. Riding without a saddle is like eating with your bare hands to people like the Targs. For them it’s seen as inappropriate— unsophisticated and all around dangerous. I can just imagine fifteen year old Luke riding into Dragonstone on Arrax’s bare back and leaving everyone except Corlys and Daemon absolutely stunned. (Also picture mommy Nyra nearly having a heart attack at the sight) He’s older, growing into his height, slowly growing this thick unkempt beard, and dressed like a damn wildling of all things, all the while holding onto his dragon’s bare horns like they’re proper reins without a care in the world?? Oh this is gold.
I can’t begin to tell you how much I love these ideas. Especially the tidbit about Luke growing up at the Eastwatch-by-the-sea! Not only is it great for Corlys frequent visits which have been allowed due to Luke still being his heir, but because it feels the most like home after being torn away from it. Daemon would absolutely be quick on his feet and five steps ahead of Otto by insisting Luke remain a ward until he’s of age so they can make sure his spot is still solidified and Vaemon’s ass can’t immediately go for the throne. Alicent is upset by this but it’s not even about the politics for her until Otto tells her the implications of what Luke’s position as heir remaining secure means for them, it’s about Luke still keeping his privileges despite having harmed her son.
Daeron visiting on the greens orders to scope the surroundings as they ready to crown Aegon only for him to get thrown off Tessarion’s back like a crash test dummy due to the wall setting him off is just *chefs kiss* This would actually be a perfect parallel to what would’ve been Luke’s death as Aemond loses control of Vhagar
Think of it; whereas Aemond is much too cocky to honor the emotions his bonded feels which are separate from his own, he ignores them and overpowers that with his own need to send Luke cowering which results in disaster. However, as soon as Tessarion begins sending waves of unease through their bond Daeron immediately begins to question his route. Coming so close to successfully turning them around in worry only for that unease to morph into outright fear before he can even think and boom…all of a sudden he’s falling and lands right in the middle of Castle black, broken bones and everything.
Now here I am imagining Luke who’s just been informed of the death of the man who sent him to the wall in the first place. Already making plans to gather his brothers as he’s throughly read through Daeron’s messages all the while peering over the bed his injured uncle is stuck in.
Oh anon, please accept my virtual smooches 🥰
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SCHENECTADY – Deliberations in the the murder and manslaughter trial of a Rotterdam ordained minister on trial for killing his 4-year-old foster son and injuring the boy's older brother are expected to get underway Friday afternoon.
But before jurors get the case, the attorneys will deliver their summations Friday morning and receive legal instructions from the judge.
On Thursday, Dequan Greene testified on the stand that he was in a “high state of stress” and consumed by doing what he could to save his unresponsive son lying on the kitchen floor when he ignored his wife’s suggestion over the phone that he dial 911.
Acknowledging he should have made that call, Greene told his defense lawyer Jim Tyner under direct questioning that “the only thing that was on my mind was saving my son.”
“The statement that you gave the police, did you tell them the truth?” Tyner asked his client.
“Absolutely,” answered Greene.
He also answered in the affirmative when Tyner followed up about the sworn statement Greene signed and gave to police and whether it was what occurred at the family’s Broadway home Dec. 20, 2021.
Tyner has previously argued that the damage to Charlie's liver was caused by "the inappropriate application of CPR and the Heimlich maneuver" by "well-intentioned first responders who were doing the best they can."
The boy's older brother was also treated at Albany Medical Center Hospital for bruises on his body, swollen lips and a partially torn muscle in his face.
But the prosecutor during a withering cross-examination insisted the real reason the defendant didn’t make that potentially live-saving emergency call was because it was he who inflicted the fatal injuries on Charlie.
‘You knew he was dying, you knew what you did to him, and you didn’t want anyone to find out,” said Christina Tremante-Pelham.
“Like I said before, I didn’t do anything to him,” Greene responded.
“You were trying to save your own life, not his,” Tremante-Pelham followed up.
“No, I was trying to save his,” Greene said.
She argued that Greene called his wife Latrisha Greene, who was out, at least eight times to see about problems she was having with their vehicle’s windshield wipers in snowy weather, but never bothered to call 911 for his child.
It wasn’t until Latrisha Greene got home that she made that call.
Dequan Greene has maintained he was honest when he told police and paramedics that the boy fell off a toddler chair and responded with slurred speech when Greene asked him if he was OK. From there, he recounted to jurors that Charlie began to vomit up food and was eventually unresponsive.
He said he tried to revive the boy by performing CPR and doing the Heimlich maneuver.
Tremante-Pelham highlighted that statement as one of the inconsistencies among Greene's testimony at trial, what he said under oath during earlier Family Court proceedings and that sworn statement to a Rotterdam police detective.
“Today is the first time you’ve ever mentioned the Heimlich,” the prosecutor said.
“I guess so,” he answered.
He also denied to his attorney that he ever caused any bruising to either Charlie or his brother.
He told Tyner that he and his wife became foster parents to give back to the community, later recalling to the prosecutor the devastation he felt after getting a call from his wife at Ellis Hospital that Charlie died that same day he was hospitalized.
“After that phone call, I just broke down, I hate even talking about it,” he said, becoming emotional. “At the end of the day, that’s my son, nobody will ever understand the pain of losing a child.”
Tremante-Pelham appeared to question his sincerity, pointing out a text message last week from his mother seemingly instructing him to be emotional on the stand. Greene clarified that his mother had told him it was OK for him to get emotional while testifying.
He said he disciplined the boys mostly by taking away their privileges and making them do wall sits for a minute for things like roughhousing and lying about taking food from the pantry without asking. A wall sit is an exercise where a person positions themselves at a 90 degree angle with their back flat against the wall and heels on the ground.
While he admitted to texts he sent in all capital letters about the boys doing wall sits, Greene said he didn’t know what his wife meant when she texted him about “no more bruises, we need them to heal.”
The defendant said Charlie’s brother may have suffered a swollen lip when he fell from the shower and said that the brothers were roughhousing a lot, which may have left them with bruises.
“What I’m asking you is if you saw all those bruises the boys had” the prosecutor persisted.
“I did not,” answered Greene.
At another time he told Tremante-Pelham that it was not uncommon for the boys to be play fighting and that “some kids bruise easier than others”
“All I would really tell you is that none of those bruises came from me,” he added.
The prosecutor also grilled Greene about the aftermath of a family’s week long trip to Florida where she contends that for two weeks the boys were not seen by professionals or a case worker because they were supposedly in COVID-19 quarantine even though he acknowledged he went back to work almost immediately when a supervisor said he could do so as long as he wore a face mask.
Greene explained to his attorney that video showing water being poured on the head of one of the boys was part of what he called “prank war” that he and other family members went through.
Toward the end of the footage, Greene is heard telling his wife to delete it “before we go to prison.” He told Tyner the comment was made jokingly.
Greene denied the prosecution’s characterization that he and his wife were happy and smiling after they found out they would be losing their children. He testified that the upset couple instead went to their car and cried.
Tyner wrapped up his questioning by asking Greene:
“Did you ever stomp on Charlie?
“No,” responded Greene.
“Are you responsible for the injuries Charlie suffered that lead to his death?”
“No,” said Greene.
Tremante-Pelham punctuated her cross-examination of Greene saying that the stomp was a “brutal act” that ended Charlie’s life.
As well as murder and manslaughter, Greene faces charges of assault and two misdemeanor counts of child endangerment. He faces 25 years to life on the top count, if convicted.
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An ode to the boy made of sugarglass
Carried by kid gloves my whole life,
Fragile to the bone, like i might shatter on touch,by a single breath
But u looked at me and saw the boy, not made of glass but flesh and bone
You saw me as a human not a porceline doll,
And i saw u, a boy, a child, heavy the head that wears the crown,But wieght of your woes were more the likes of sisyphus's boulder, relentless, merciless, enternal
You were cracked when i found u, and i saw the the branches of the brokeness grow far,
They saw your side which reflected red hot rage, dipped in jelousy for mundane needs
You were starved, like some animal in the dark, your ribs jutted out like thornes against your dusky skin
U were cold to the touch, your eyes were drenched in hate, hate for all that exists and hate for all that lives
But i saw you, years later, the boy now a man, so soft that i almost melted on the ground, you were starved of love, but u had so much to give, so full so full of it u searched for a place to keep it safe,
But he broke it, didnt he? He took ur love, an oath and in return gave you cold shoulders
You had dreams because i saw it in ur eyes once, All were broken before they even saw the light of day.
You were whole once, before they made u think there was no other state than being broken into fine powder.
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🌷 or 🍒 your choice<3
🌷 favorite sweet quote from a published work
🌷- Hate Flows Through My Veins (This I Do Vow)
“You stepped into my waters,” Styx decreed. “You stepped into my waters and breathed them in and accepted the pain and the hate and the fury all to bring peace and hope and love back to yours. You burned away your very soul in order to save people. With your love in your back, and your hope in your heart.”
“Oh… I… I’m sorry for forgetting?”
The child truly was, and Styx bubbled with light curls, soft currents, she wrapped those waters around him in a welcome embrace, a sweep of her tributaries and he was safe. Her eyes remained unblinking on the form of the fool river, even as she spoke to her child, her chosen, in her waters.
“Twas not you who broke the oath. And your blessing is returned, for it should never have been taken.”
This counts as sweet right? I mean it's possessive and dark and rage filled but it's *sweet*. A Goddess rose from the Underworld specifically to return that which was lost to Percy. And so nicely!
Send me an emoji
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Happy Pride Month everyone! This is the first part of my series, that features my oc couples assigned to a colour of the pride flag and its meaning.
Red, life, has been assigned to Sigga and Clarice.
Life
Couple chosen:
Sigga and Clarice
Reason why the couple was chosen:
Clarice is doomed to die because she broke a promise she made to the Oracle, and she faces the goddess of love as a last option to save herself. The goddess tells her there is only one way to be safe: sacrifice Sigga and give a life for a life. Clarice has then to choose between dying and killing the person she loves.
Character personalities and sexualities:
Sigga, the main character of the story, is a witty energetic girl who is always in search of adventure. She always sneaks herself in trouble and has no sense of danger. She's an aroace.
Clarice is a funny and caring girl who has been in love with Sigga for years. She always knows how to cheer up the mood, she is extroverted and likes to make friends. She hates risk, is very careful and does not like going out of her comfort zone. She's pansexual.
The two are in a queerplatonic relationship.
Snippet:
Clarice saw the blinding flash of the lighting and flinched. After a long moment the earth shook and the sound of thunder came. She held her breath, frightened, but no one surrounding her seemed to notice.
“Clarice,” the thunder called. “Clarice, my child, you broke your oath.”
The moment later she wasn’t on the streets anymore. She was in the woods, alone, and it was dark. She knew what was happening, so she wasn’t afraid anymore.
“Yes, my lady,” she murmured, bowing her head in respect. “I broke my oath. I did it because I thought I was going to die, I did it for love. I am contrite for disappointing you, but I couldn’t but act the way I did and I do not regret it.”
“You did not disappoint me, child. I always appreciate a good old sacrifice for love. You know, every sacrifice in the name of love is a sacrifice in my name,” the thunder boomed. “But your friends want to save you. They want to go against the oath you made to me, and to make it null it you have to sacrifice something even bigger than that. A life for a life.”
“Tell me what I have to do. Tell me what I have to do to save myself, and Sigga won’t hate me. She will forgive me, perhaps, everything will get back to how it used to be. I’ll have more time. Tell me, please.”
“As I said, child, it’s very simple. You can choose, if you want it above all else you can have your life saved. But you’ll have to pay a price.”
“I will. I’ll do anything I… don’t want to die.”
“If you’ll say yes, if you’ll choose to live, it will be her to die. She’ll take your place and she will fade. The person you love the most.”
Clarice looked up to the sky in shock. She couldn’t see the goddess, no mortal could, but she wished to look at her to see her face, understand if she was serious or it was just a joke.
“No,” she said, her voice low. “It can’t be true. You can’t really ask me to do that.”
“There is no other way. A life for a life.”
It was then that Clarice hesitated. She didn’t want to die, she wanted to live. And what did she owe Sigga, who did not want her, not the way Clarice wanted her? Nothing. No one would have blamed her if she had accepted the goddess’ offer. No one. Why was she supposed to die for someone who was pissed at her, someone that had never looked at her the way she wanted to be looked at? Someone who had never loved her back the way she should have?
She could choose to live, and Sigga would have died. She was going to be upset at first, guilty, maybe even broken, but she would have got over it, eventually. Sigga wasn’t her world.
Although…
Although Sigga was a part of her. Her closest friend, her mate, her partner, a piece of her heart. Sigga was witty, smart, brave, kind. She did not deserve to die. Her death would have broken her heart. Because she loved her, with every part of her, and because she cared about her.
She couldn’t let her die, to save herself no less. Sigga had ambitions, she had dreams, dreams that she was going to make true. She was going to travel, she was going to see the world. Clarice was no one to take it from her.
She was Sigga, the most lively person she knew, an energy bomb, an irresistible joy. She could not die.
“I refuse your offer,” she said, her heart on her throat. “I can’t accept, I can’t.”
“Are you sure, child? If you really refuse it, in the span of a few months you’ll die.”
“I am sure. I refuse your offer.”
“So be it,” the wind murmured, then everything went black.
#original character#original characters#ocs#oc#writing#tanvar#lgbtq#lgbt lit#queer#poc#pride month#pride flag#red#long post
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Trapped in the dark
She eyed the prisoner suspiciously. Her velvet soft brown eyes hid the corruption well, barely a hint of the red glow was perceptible. “Is he secured?”
“Don’t fear, child.” The Masters voice made her heart flutter with anticipation. “He is quite disarmed. You can see for yourself.” He made a soft gesture towards Mithlinu. The young man glared but made no attempt to reply. His hands were unbound but the oath held him as firmly in check as if he had ben chained from head to toe. He could not defy The Masters will, no matter how his heart longed for revenge. She bowed to The Master, ever the humble servant, always soft and pliable. A razors edge hidden in velvet and satin.
“What? No snide remark? Have the mighty warrior given up so soon?” The voice belonged to Barion Dageion, and his malice knew no bounds. He smiled, and his radiant face could have fooled anyone that didn’t know him that he was just a young man, bearing no evil intent in his heart when in fact that was all he ever had had. As he passed Mithlinu he allowed his hand to stroke the prisoner’s chin. The powerful magic he was using relied on touch. Mithlinu groaned, knees buckling beneath him.
“Barion, that’s enough.”
“Yes, my Master.” Barion let go of his grip over the magic and smiled at Mithlinu who was sweating profusely, holding his breath to bite back cries of pain. “But he suffers beautifully, don’t you think?”
The Master didn’t answer but Barion could see the cold glint in the beautiful eyes, the scorn in the perfect face. His Lord and Master displeased! It broke Barions heart instantly. Servants had died for less. He bowed, low but not too low. Humble, not grovelling he told himself.
“I apologise if I have offended, my master. I am yours to command.”
“Yes, you are, and never forget it.” The Master’s voice had an edge that cut deep into what was left of Barions soul. Then The Master’s face softened, his eyes gazed lovingly at Barion who, at that moment, could have died for that one gaze alone.
“You are right of course.” The Master smiled and reached for Barion. His hand, as everything else, was perfection. “Come, my poor, jealous boy. He suffers beautifully, but he can never replace my favourite.”
Barion kneeled trembling before The Master and bowed his head low. It didn’t matter to him that the jealousy wasn’t his, that he was a canvas for The Master to paint his feelings on, a mirror without an image of its own. In the corner of his eye, he could see Mithlinu regaining composure. The dark hair damp with sweat and body shivering, but the grey eyes blazed with defiance. No, they blazed with pure hate.
“My Master, if I may?” Barion pleaded, still kneeling, and bowing low.
“Go ahead, my little jealous boy.” The Masters voice sounded as if he was smiling. He was pleased. Barions heart jumped with joy.
“May I … may I watch when you break him?” Barion pressed his forehead against the cold stone floor. He might have overstepped his good fortune this time.
The Master laughed, a soft little laugh that Barion basked in. He had made The Master happy!
“You may, my little one.”
“Thank you, my Master.” His voice trembled with emotion. “Thank you.”
He dared lift his eyes, glanced at The Master who had turned his back to him and was watching Mithlinu again. Though millennia had passed, The Master still wore the same kind of long robes and jackets as he had a long time ago. Before he became a deity. Barion shunned the thought, that his Master had been a mortal, a human. Such beauty and grace couldn’t have been borne of woman but risen from the ocean or stepped down from the mountains. Maybe the volcano spewed him forth in the beginning of time, or a shooting star landed and from it he was born. Yes, that must have been it. A shooting star impregnated mother earth who gave birth to the one and only deity worth following. The others were impostors. Mere humans that had forgotten their task and their purpose. But The Master … He was a deity, a true god.
Barion watched The Master as he dried sweat from the prisoner’s forehead and stroke his hair, very much as you caress a pet. An urge to crush that defiant glare made Barion tremble where he lay on his hands and knees, humble before his Master.
“I feel your pain, my poor jealous boy.” The Master’s voice was soft, and Barion knew The Master had been right all along. Yes. He was jealous. He hated the prisoner. That … boy, that man-child, would steal precious time, attention, and devotion. He didn’t want to share The Master with yet another distraction. His heart raged as he acknowledged the feeling, and he knew his eyes burned red as his spells to hide his corrupted features started to fail.
“Does it hurt you that I spend time with my latest conquest? You are, second only to Straul Amatar, my oldest servant.”
“Yes, my Master.” Barion didn’t even consider anything but honesty. His Master would sense the untrue behind the sincerity, even if he tried to coat the lie in truth. The he would suffer as he had suffered only once before. The Master had broken into his mind, brutally and voraciously, and rained acid and fire into his very thoughts. His mind was burning, pain was wrecking his entire being and there was no escape, no mercy, and no end to the pain until The Master willed it so. The punishment lasted forever and, in the end, Barion had been screaming, howling, and begging for death. The Master had cupped his hand beneath Barions chin, lifted his tear drenched face so close as if he wanted to kiss him and asked him if he wanted death. Anything, Barion had cried, anything to stop the pain. The Master had kissed his forehead, and in an instant the pain was gone. Once was enough. Barion had no desire to relive that.
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October 3, 2023
Even as a woman who knows how to rap and sing holding your head up means each day trying something new. Learning natural remedies to get by and survive.
Letting go of the past helps to rebuild a future. Love will never have a title, or even a label on it. Love covers multitude of sins because well love is a big thing and everyone wants soemthing from you.
Your own family will even take from you for their own blessings. Nots a child's father though because well not even for a new woman. My life will Never go into another womans pockets to benefit her. Thats what you call a string theroy. Another female will do anything she can to build a case on a man or even manipulate about a mans past as well. Its crazy. Females lie and do as they are coached by even their own mommas because of groups, packs etc. I raised alot of wolves, thats the oath as a God mother. No matter what anyone says to me . I know my life and I view things . Sometimes we all do a job without getting paid because well even working 2 jobs with a child on my hip was easy for me. Truth women are suppose to stay home. RIght now its the year for women to reflect and fall back and chill out because alot of women like to be messy and evil. To get back at ex boyfriends or even the baby mommas of a cukoo babys father. Lawyers are drawing up and even sueing and talking shit because money became the rue of all evil. Sometimes you have to even watch your exboyfriends back . Love is there with loyalty. Loyalty is huge. Bigger than what any check can buy. My father always carried a wait on his shoulder and well im carrying it as well.
Love is confusing but reflecting on my dads past back with Mrs. Karen Smith my old counselor Mrs. Katherine Blankenship "found". Who always kept notes of my life she translated my way of expressing how I seen ghost to my father.
Momma Kat even looked at him worried as well. He looked at me and said "Her momma played with playing cards."
Glenn Ray Seymour never raped me or used me he actually always gave me money behind momma cats back because she kept his ass straight and always in check. She always felt that I hated her when I didn't maturing and getting older before he got arrested July 22, 2009 I remember seeing her lock herself in the room because my dad was having addiction issues. He broke her heart, and trust. When they investigated his case she asked me if I wanted to stay in her custody because she did love me. Now that I am off the meth and being very honest not caring anymore because at the end of the day truth is needed. Love is seen differently now and getting older. Looking into how I see things differently getting older it brings pain I never realized because sometimes its amazing that my dad had her as a wife as well she was trying her best to keep him away from things that felt toxic best of her knowledge. I was a asshole back in 2017 when my grandmother " Jackie Lachney died and I blew up on this women as well. Her wisdom she taught me really has hit me again. I was always wise with my father's money because I even thought about my two other baby brothers future.
Thats love from a far. Money can't replace a father.
Or even a mother. Really realizing blood will never matter when I reflect. If my daddy wasn't silly and trying to be something different he would have never got in trouble. Before the age of 12 children can see ghosts. Yeah, when a women says she can feel spirits or see ghosts makes the eye of even men look at women crazy because of spirituality reasoning.
No matter what we do even as a baby momma , your suppose to watch from a distance over family because knowing alot of people can be scary . Now when its blood. Noone has the right to say fuck because family is family and man or woman either need to learn to adapt to the family or get the hell because as life goes on love will never be forgotten. I was always taught keep your head up. Pain hurts and emotions over turmoil alot but that is why there is techniques that you pick up on life to let that pain out because no matter what anyone says. Family means no matter what . Vengeance is evil. Thats why as life goes on . You learn to let things go because you never really know who really has your back behind a screen.
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Last Night's Epic D&D Session
I was writing a whole post about the D&D campaign we just finished last night. OMG, it was so amazing. The post was stupid long though because the whole story is actually made up of several campaigns and it honestly way too convoluted to just explain.
So, here's just the epic session we had last night, with as brief of explanations as I can make them.
The party was going to fight a necromancer. We thought it was this giantess, but it turned out to actually be Arcturia, a very dangerous lich from Undermountain who we'd tangled with before.
Arcturia revealed to the party that using a wish she managed to escape Undermountain years ago for a short time in her original human form and bore a child, but had to leave that child with the father because the wish was only able to give her a very limited time away.
That child? My character. Syllana. A half-elf paladin of vengeance. Formerly a hexblade warlock wielding a blade Arcturia had created to lure her to Undermountain. She became a paladin of vengeance after learning her patron hadn't been the soul of the elven wizard Talenel who'd inhabited the blade, but the lich.
She then swore vengeance against Arcturia. It was a whole thing. Some of it had to do with the elven wizard who'd become her first and best friend and like kind-of crush.
Syllana had come into the campaign as a good character and events and deaths had been breaking her down. Right before facing down the necromancer, she'd watched a construct murder the commander of the Waterdavian army who she'd sort of fallen in love with/had co-dependent relationship after they'd both lost the people they thought were their true loves.
It was a THING. And the last thing she said to him before he ran at the giant construct to be a distraction for them was that she hated him for doing it.
Needless to say, Syllana was not okay mentally. She was done watching the people she loves die. So, when evil lich lady told her that she was her mom, promised to show her how to make sure death never took anyone she loved again, AND showed her that she'd freed Talenel and given him back his body...Syllana broke her oath and begged the party to leave.
I knew this was going to happen.
Silver Viking is the DM and he'd come to me with the idea of making Syllana the final boss nearly a year ago and I'd really loved the idea. So, we'd begun seeding in the elements that would foreshadow it. I'd played Syllana like I had been, a woman at her wits end, afraid more people would die and she couldn't save them.
To say the party was shocked would be an understatement. The only other female in the party--a dear friend of mine--shed legit tears when Syllana broke her oath.
Viking and I had supposed the battle would have one of two outcomes. Either the party would kill Syllana or Syllana would kill them. The good ending was the party killing Syllana.
As it often happens in D&D, whatever you think is going to happen...you're wrong.
True to what we supposed, the party refused to attack Syllana even though she was fighting to kill. Instead, they focused their attacks on the Lich, and undead death cleric, and the eleven wizard, Talenel.
The dice DID NOT favor Viking last night. In a hail mary, the undead cleric pickpocketed the deck of many things that the other paladin in the party was carrying.
Now this wasn't just any deck of many things. This wasn't a full deck and out of the fifteen cards, only three of them could be considered "good".
Undead cleric draws 3 cards and Viking reveals them in the order they were drawn:
The Moon
You gain 1d3 wishes. Viking rolled a one. Bad news for the heroes...right?
Balance
The one who draws it has a total alignment switch. The evil undead death cleric suddenly becomes GOOD!
Flames
A powerful devil becomes an enemy and seeks to destroy the one who drew the card.
Now, this undead death cleric wasn't really just any death cleric. She was actually a half of a former character of mine. Interestingly, a character I was planning to bring back after Syllana died.
VERY long story short, this former character, Lirael, had become separated from the evil half of herself after being shot by a weapon that was supposed to kill a god. And said god/whatever Gunther is, had ALSO become separated from half of himself and thus began his low-key obsession with Lirael and hers with him.
Interestingly, when evil Lirael alignment shifted, her better half ALSO did. Which caused Gunther to come investigate and whisk undead Lirael away because he's been searching for her. However, right before she's whisked away, she makes her wish.
Viking let team heroes make the wish. He told me I could since technically Lirael is my character, but at that point it was two in the morning, I am not a night owl, I was on my second cup of coffee, I was more than a little punch drunk, and I was honestly incapable of switching to Lirael's mind.
The party wished for the utter destruction of Acturia's phylactery and her death. It was much better worded than I'm making it sound. I don't recall exactly how they worded it, but at our table, wishes have to be worded JUST SO or Viking will 100% use some fae logic and find a loophole. Whatever they came up with, it was solid.
Arcturia DIED and Syllana just broke. The Talenel--who really didn't want to fight them but would do anything for Syllana--convinces the party's time wizard (who has literally never been quite so cool as he was this session...like serious MVP stuff!) to erase the memory that Arcturia was Syllana's mom and when Syllana beats the wisdom saving throw, time wizard uses convergent future to force the modify memory to work.
I should mention we're level 14.
So, Syllana and Talenel were saved!
Now, Syllana is still NOT OKAY. Even without the memory of her parentage and oath break (they convinced her she was cursed), she's still very depressed. But this was honestly, the best ending that we certainly never thought would happen.
After the fight, we decided to finish Syllana's story to the end. So, Talenel takes Syllana away to recuperate, rest, and get some therapy. It takes years before she even feels slightly "normal" again, but she has nightmares about Undermountain for the rest of her life. She never adventures again and periodically both she and Talenel have to go back to Waterdeep because Undermountain poisons everyone who goes inside in a way that beckons them to its vicinity for the rest of their lives.
And that's Syllana's story.
It's bittersweet because I've been playing Syllana for about two years now. She's my baby and in spite of all our planning, the random chaos of D&D gave her a better ending than the one I had planned.
Stuff like this is why I love playing D&D. I'm very lucky, I know. I've been playing D&D since high school and I've been at bad tables. But the group we have now...man, they're fantastic. Awesome at the roleplay, clever with the combat, just really amazing people who are here to tell a good story and last night we told an epic one!
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I went over to this guys house once, and it got heated when we were making out. He tried asking for sex and I’m like nah, plus I didn’t shave. I had my hair trimmed low but not completely bald. This mfker said , “why wouldn’t you shave that’s just basic respect” 🤨 I’ve been when a guy who literally worshipped my body w/o a backhanded comment like that and you know what my insecure ass did!? I still slept with him. Actually broke my one year celibacy for some wack dick! Smh. I probably should go to therapy about that one. I think i was ovulating or something. Anyways how can I get over making such a horrible mistake like that I keep beating myself up over it?? Just like Meg on my life I’ll deny ever sleeping w/ that pos unless I’m under oath! So embarassing.
I’ll say this any grown ass man who can’t handle hair is obviously a weirdo. I hate to say it but I feel like that’s lowkey deep rooted in child pedo stuff. I won’t even dwell on that because as a grown person hair should be one of the last worries …. Like sir can you find the clit! What’s disrespectful is he worried about hair I’m stuck on that. Don’t feel a way for man’s lack of knowledge and respect especially when clearly he’s the one thirsty for sex. Sir you the one forcing for it and I wasn’t expecting it to reach that point. He’s a loser and he obviously stuck in a immature mindset. I ain’t gonna lie it’s a horrible feeling breaking celibacy for a square but every bomb woman has been through it… you aren’t alone. I say block him and deny deny because he wasn’t meant to be on the hit list. Don’t —beat yourself up about it just charge it to the game mami. I say cleanse yourself and meditate and that energy he gave you will be knocked out send it straight to dry places! "”Somebody gonna appreciate that temple with or without hair. Someone gonna appreciate you for you #anon
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[5:46pm] 'You...' you both say at the same time, palms pressed against each other like an oath. 'Are the other half of my soul!'
It was silly. It was just two kids who didn't know any better imitating a scene from a cartoon they watched, but it was, for some reason, a beautiful feeling.
But everything beautiful comes back to haunt their creators. That was something you didn't know until recently.
"Oh, there you are, Y/N! And your mother."
"Wha— I'm your best friend!"
"Yeah, so I had to see your face from we were fifteen until now. Can you blame me for wanting to see your child more?"
"Ah! You want to play like this, huh?" She challenges, "Hyuck-ah, your favorite auntie is here! Where are yo— oh heavens, how tall and handsome you've grown!"
"Auntie," he shyly laughs.
He's grown. You were taller than him during elementary, when you were both just little children with chubby cheeks and a penchant for dolls and dancing. He grew a little taller than you in middle school, and now he's a towering figure you no longer recognize.
His lips curl into a shy smile, but his cheeks don't hold the same youthful blush. His eyes shine slightly. People would call him warm, but because you grew up with him and knew what his warmth looked like, now you'd call him cold.
Your gazes meet.
'Then go!' you had yelled, pushing him away.
Darkly, he smiled, 'Then I will. You should, too. There's no place here for you to call home anymore.'
The room was suffocating. They recount your childhood like a fragment of theirs, every laughter and every funny misunderstanding. The never knew of your big fights; not the one of you hiding your sadness, the one of him hiding his injury. Especially not the one where you decided to go abroad and you found out he was dating the girl who made your life a living hell during elementary.
To them, it was such a sweet affair. To you both, it was a competition of who would break first before the other does.
"Oh, Hyuck, didn't you invite your girlfriend for dinner?" His mother says, and oddly it's nothing but a soft tingle to the back of your mind where you locked your feelings up. "It's perfect time to introduce her to your childhood friend, you know."
"We broke up."
"Oh, sorry—"
"No need, we were gonna break up anyway. We weren't a good match," he tries to assure as nice as he could. "She needed one thing, I needed something else."
"How often you say that. You always say it about your exes!"
"Ma, don't make me out to be a playboy in front of my favorite auntie!" He whines, making grabby hands to your mother. "I'm not as bad as she makes me out to be, auntie!"
Oh, you felt yourself barely hide your acrimonious sneer as you indulged your thoughts. Aren't you?
'After graduation, I'll go abroad.'
'I'm dating her.'
The wounds, the bruises, the trust. He patched your cuts up and put ointment on your black and blues, he held you when you shaked just at the thought of going to school. He hated the person who made you like this; but he fell in love with her. You couldn't count how many times you puked at the thought of how they're probably hugging, kissing, holding hands; your best friend and your bully.
The promises, the plans, the trust. You told him you'd be by his side, you'd stay with him until you're both married (to somebody else, to each other? Who knows.) and old. You won't leave him like his father did. You made plans of travelling the world, of living a stable life, of owning a toy store and a candy shop. You had it all planned out and all that'd left to do was to grow up; but you left.
'Oh,' you said in sync, 'So you've made a choice.'
You stood rock still under the light drizzle, 'It's fine. You need her. I need this.'
'You need one thing, I need something else,' he agreed, and with heavy hearts and tangled strings, you turn your backs on each other and hope to never cross paths again.
You shakily sigh the same time he does, and at that moments you knew you were thinking the same thoughts.
God, good God, what have we done?
What have we done and what did we do it for? What did it bring us to?
"What about you, Y/N? Anybody in your life?"
'Well, I guess this means you'll have to marry me?'
'Don't make it sound like a responsibility. When we're older, I'm marrying you by choice.'
"In general, I have a good friend back where I'm currently living," you kindly say. You can't bring yourself to call it home.
Home was where Hyuck was, and there is nowhere with traces of him in that beautiful place you call your personal hell.
"A good friend, she calls him, but Mark is a sweetheart who looks at her like one would look at their veiled bride," your mom gushes. "They're basically dating!"
"Mom!"
"Oh, isn't that sweet?" Mrs. Lee smiles wistfully, "Just like how my parents looked at each other. They always looked like the soft glow one has when getting married, and that's how I know you two will make a home full of love!"
"It's too early for that, auntie," you shyly stop her. "Besides, Mark and I are truly just great friends. If... if we somehow end up going out, or something... I'd tell you."
"Really?! But he does sound like a good guy... so won't it be a waste to not make a move as soon as you can?"
"Ah... that's..."
"Well, if you ask me, I'd say it won't be any long until they catch feelings." Your mother winks, making you sink back into the chair. "I hear him singing her to sleep through the phone at night."
"As I said, a lovely match! Soulmates!"
Hyuck brings down his utensils softly against his plate.
"I'm going upstairs," he clears his throat, pushing away his seat and respectfully excusing himself to the guests.
His footsteps were quick and rushed as he puts his plate in the sink. He doesn't even go to drink water, he just walks out, and the last you see of him before you hear him heading up the stairs was the sight of his back, figure going further and farther.
I... was always behind you, always hiding... always waiting... always watching you leave.
Was your ego hurt when the tables turned and it was you who had to look at my back? Is that why you...
"Oh... that's my bad."
"Why would it be?" You politely ask after being addressed. At least, you tried to sound polite.
"Well... I mean you, and my son..."
"We didn't have anything aside from the friendship we grew out of," you force your eyes into little crescents, alongside your lips. "I'm pretty sure it has nothing to do with what we were talking about."
Your mother only nods kindly to you and turns to your mother, talking about the old days they spent watching seasons after seasons of shows. You were cutting up the food on your plate, thinking that if you distract yourself enough, you won't think of things, you won't have nightmares, and it might go away.
The glass in front of you holds cranberry juice. It reminds you of the countless times your parents tricked you both into thinking it was what they called wine. You sadly smile, and across the table you meet a familiar stare.
She gives you a look you're all too familiar with: 'He doesn't hate you.'
You smile at her with a smile they always mistake for relief. You look away and you sigh: You don't know that.
Because we've broken each other's hearts tremendously. You can't claim he doesn't hate me, because our feelings have always been in sync.
And I hate him too.
#nct dream#nct dream imagines#nct dream x reader#nct dream blurbs#nct dream drabbles#nct dream timestamps#nct dream angst#nct 127 drabbles#nct 127 timestamps#nct 127 x reader#nct 127 blurbs#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 imagines#nct 127#haechan#haechan drabbles#haechan blurbs#haechan x reader#haechan timestamps#haechan imagines#haechan scenarios#best friend!haechan#best friend to enemies? :(#dw you don't hate each other more than you love each other still ( :
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inheritance . act one [diluc x reader]
inheritance act one of five: denial
arranged marriage royalty au prince!diluc x f!knight!reader
fic summary: you're the heir apparent's key to obtaining the throne you've sworn to protect since you were a child. but in barbatos' domain, where freedom reigns, you must first answer a question: is freedom found in the ability to spread your wings and take flight on mondstadt's winds or is freedom found in the ability to choose to remain flightless?
word count: 19.6k
warnings: alcohol, minor descriptions of wounds and violence, bleeding, pining, oblivious characters, no explicit nsfw, enemies(?) to lovers
fic masterlist
a/n: i’m happy it’s finally done! i’m so excited to share this with you all! i hope you like it. please post here to be on the taglist! characters may be ooc at first but they’ll grow into their rightful personalities, dw! <3
You first met Diluc when you were eight, the boy being two years older than you. It was an accidental meeting. Commoners like you weren’t supposed to be in the palace, but your father was one of the palace’s Royal Knights, assigned to protect the king and his royal family, even at the cost of his life. You were far too young to grasp the political implications of what “serving the throne” actually meant, just believing that it meant you got to run around in cool armor while slaying dragons.
At least, that’s what the colorful storybooks that littered the floor of your childhood room had told you.
The boy had seemed nervous. Much like you at that age, he was a true introvert at heart. His princely duties extended past such nerves as he was forced to cast human consternation and worries aside and extend his hand to you.
“I am Prince Diluc of Mond,” He proudly stated, mustering as much righteousness into his words that a ten-year-old was capable of doing.
You were too young to notice it yet, but such an act was false bravado on the prince’s behalf.
You shook his hand limply, unfamiliar with such formal gestures. A nudge from your father enforced the power dynamic that would persist between you and the prince for years to come, as your father reminded you to bow in respect. After bowing, you stayed quiet for a few more moments before being nudged gently by your father again. A confused look passed over your face before you remembered what you needed to do.
“Oh, I’m (Y/N)!” you giggled. “It’s nice to meet you!”
Diluc stared at you for a moment before a grin broke out onto his face. “My father wanted me to ask if you wanted to come play with my brother and I?”
You looked at Diluc before glancing up at your father for permission, who simply smiled and nodded his goodwill in return. In response, Diluc latched his hand around your wrist and the two of you ran down the hallway to go play pirates.
---
When you were fourteen, Diluc appeared in your life once more.
It’s amusing as to how quickly a mere second encounter can shatter fond memories developed prior.
“This is Knight (Y/L/N),” a fellow knight had introduced you to the prince. “Her duties will consist of protecting the royal family, with a focus on you, my prince.”
The redhead had simply scoffed, looking you up and down with distaste. If he remembered your brief childhood rendezvous, he failed to show it. His eyes glinted with annoyance and his lips curled slightly downwards, yet you bowed in respect, for you had sworn an oath of fealty to the kingdom. Whether the people you watched over agreed or disagreed with your methods mattered not to you, for you had been assigned to this position by the king himself. Anyone who ranked below him could not waver such undying loyalty, even if they were his son.
“She’s my bodyguard?” Diluc’s tone was one of disdain as he folded his arms. “She’s a child. I’d be better off protecting myself, especially since she doesn’t have a vision. I don’t want her.”
Your stoic expression matches Diluc’s slight frown, unshaken by his words. However, you couldn’t say the same for the knight that had re-introduced the two of you. Despite being much older and of higher rank than you, the poor man was shaking in his boots from being reprimanded by the king’s tempestuous son.
“My prince, with all due respect, she is the most promising knight out of the academy in many years. She’s an excellent fighter and chivalrous at heart. I can assure the king has picked only the best knight for you,” your fellow knight insisted as you remained steady.
“My father picked her?” Diluc’s voice softens almost imperceptibly, not having expected such information. “Very well then. Even if I do not believe she is of assistance, I have no capability to argue with one of my father’s orders.”
A wave of relief washes over your superior’s face upon Diluc’s concession. “Thank you, my liege,” He says, genuflecting in the prince’s direction before standing tall and saluting. Diluc’s crimson gaze turns to yours and presses his lips together in a slight frown.
“Well?” The prince snaps, seemingly expecting something of you as he folds his arms. Your stoic expression shatters as you raise an eyebrow. “Do you not have something to say to me as well?”
Oh. You finally understand. He’s not just having a bad day. He’s just an asshat.
“With all due respect, my prince,” You respond, finally breaking your silence. “I am not aware of any words of yours that deserve my gratitude. All three of us are merely following orders.”
You feign innocence at your contemptuous words, biting back a smirk as the haughty redhead glowers at you. The knight next to you looks as if he wants to run away. Sensing his discomfort, Diluc wordlessly waves him off and your eyes flicker away from Diluc’s vermillion gaze to watch the knight salute before marching off, leaving you and your new assignment alone together. Diluc looks you up and down once more, his eyes ablaze with ire at your mere presence.
“What is your name?” Diluc queries. His harsh tone contracts with the societal politeness embedded into his question.
“Royal Knight (Y/L/N), sir.” You respond with a quick salute. Diluc stares at you with a mixture of confusion and disgust.
“That is not what I meant. What is your first name?” He clarifies, his vocal inflection making it clear that such a notion should have been obvious to you from the beginning. “You are not a dog, I do not wish to refer to you in such a manner.”
Your lips remain neutral, but you can’t help the confused look that shows in your eyes. It was far too late for him to say such things. He had already treated both you and your superior with disrespect. Nonetheless, as he is a higher rank than you, you answered him. “(Y/N), sir.”
“Well, (Y/N), it appears that we are stuck together. It would be in your best interest not to slow me down,” His words are cavalier and cautionary, yet you discern a faint hint of hollowness in his words, as if he’s not exactly sure what to say or do with you.
You nod in response and give a slight smirk in hopes of easing the tension between the two of you. Diluc doesn’t smile back.
---
A year of being Diluc’s bodyguard (a position akin to being a glorified babysitter, except you have authorization to use lethal force) passes and you find a friend in the most unlikely of places: Diluc’s own brother, Kaeya. The blue-haired boy is a cheerful, charming spirit who took an immediate interest in you upon your first meeting.
“My older brother probably hates you,” He had said and you were unsure as to how to respond until he let out a laugh. “That’s okay. He hates almost everyone. I’m Prince Kaeya!”
Kaeya’s ability to find you on the castle grounds whenever your services are not needed for the elder prince is almost troubling. Any brief moment of peace you have often results in the persistent prince appearing at your side, excited to speak with you about whatever was going on in his life. Kaeya’s determination to become your friend, you soon realized, is rooted in the fact that the prince has little to no interaction with others of his age, something you had also noticed in Diluc’s own life upon your time watching him. Kaeya was not allowed the privilege to have friends his age, something you had taken for granted back in your hometown of Springvale.
“What are you thinking about?” Kaeya asks, the two of you sitting on a bench outside of the knight’s quarters. He bites into one of the apples he had brought along with him, soft crunching noises filling the the silence between you as you attempt to formulate a response.
“Well,” Your eyes flicker to the clusters of windwheel asters planted by the entrance to your residence building. “I am afraid my thoughts are not of much value at the moment.” You draw your words out in order to give yourself time to think of how to phrase your words. “At the moment, my thoughts are not very… kind.”
Upon your words, Kaeya’s blue eyes gleam with delight as he leans over closer to you. The boy has pestered you enough to know what such words mean, as they are not a slight to him, but rather disdainful of his older brother.
“Do share them,” Kaeya pleads, his tone eager to hear what complaints you may have about Diluc.
You flatten your hands on the flat surface of the stone bench behind you and look up into the cloudless blue sky, enjoying the feeling of the warm spring sun on your skin as you utter your next words, “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Yes, yes!” Kaeya laughs, excitedly. “Share your vile thoughts so the world may cast their judgement upon the wicked sinfulness that reverberates in your mind!”
You snap your head to the boy next to you and stare at him with wide eyes at his words. The second your eyes meet his playful ones, the both of you break out into raucous laughter at his theatrics. His tone was haughty, mimicking many of the stuffy elites the two of you were surrounded by, including Diluc. At times like these, you were reminded that Kaeya was an outsider to the palace, just like you were, yet the hierarchy of the two of your duties separated you from him.
“Okay, okay,” You huff, trying to catch your breath from laughing. Kaeya simmers down upon realizing you are about to talk and looks at you expectantly, leaning slightly in your direction. “Yes, it’s about him.” The two of you burst into laughter once more.
“When is it not?” Kaeya giggles. “He’s so weird with you compared to how he acts with me.”
“That’s because you’re his brother. Of course he’s going to be nicer to you.” You explain before shaking your head slightly and swatting your hand through the air to signal that such a topic of conversation is something you did not wish to focus upon. “Anyways, today we were in another one of those stuffy formality meetings with some Inazuman diplomates. Y’know, those ones. And I’m standing by the door, keeping watch, like… it’s the usual kind of stuff I’m supposed to do. The meeting was supposed to be two hours, but Diluc’s refusal to compromise made the meeting run over it’s designated time by an hour. I swear, if not for the fact that it would cause an international scandal, Diluc and the diplomat guy would’ve started fighting each other.”
Kaeya’s eyebrows raise at your last statement and he laughs once more. “That’s Diluc for you. He means well but is awful at showing it to most people. He just… really believes in himself.”
“He shouldn’t,” You respond before clapping a hand over your mouth in shock as Kaeya roars with joy at your words, relishing in your loss of respect for the redheaded prince in your words. “I… I don’t mean it like that! I just mean… he’s still young. Such an unshakable perspective on international relations will only lead to foreign envoys viewing him poorly.”
“Yes, I wholeheartedly agree, but neither of us want to tell him this. He’d just scream at you and would give me the cold shoulder,” Kaeya muses as he outstretches a hand to you, offering one of the untouched apples he had brought along to you. You nod your appreciation and take the apple, piercing through its skin with your teeth as you bite into the red fruit.
“Prince Diluc does like to lecture his subordinates,” You agree after swallowing. “Especially me.”
“Don’t take it personally,” Kaeya advises with an optimistic smile. “If he’s willingly speaking to you at all, it means he likes you. He just does a piss poor job at showing it to anyone outside of the family.”
“Because he’s entitled.” You respond and Kaeya winks at you, gesturing his approval in your direction.
“Precisely! Now you’re getting it!”
---
On your sixteenth birthday, Diluc provides no well-wishes, but manages to give you the best present of all: a better attitude. His words are no longer infused with the disdain he once held for you, but rather coated with only a slight annoyance. With Diluc, you’ll take any improvement you can get. The change in his demeanor had left you reeling after a mere ten-word question, the whiplash from the complete upheaval of his attitude stunning you into silence.
“Would you care to go to the market with me?” Diluc had asked absentmindedly, focused on his paperwork at hand.
You had stood by the entrance to his personal study, warding off any unwanted visitors with your daunting presence and stoic demeanor. Despite how intimidating the other maids found you, Diluc had paid this unapproachable disposition of yours no mind, much to your gratitude. But as the rather innocent question fell from the prince’s lips, you couldn’t help but to look around and reassure that no one else had slipped into the room and evaded your watchful eye.
Diluc had given you a choice with his question -- an action he had never performed before.
Irked by your silence, Diluc set his pen down and looked up at you expectantly, folding his hands together and resting them on the desk in front of him. “Well?” He scoffed.
“Visiting Mondstadt’s main street would be nice,” You responded, unsure of your words. With Diluc, you were always unsure of your words. “Would you like me to assemble a party of knights to accompany us?”
Diluc let out a sigh and shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “I do not wish to attract unwanted attention with such procedures. I simply wish to get a breath of fresh air. Only your presence is requested, unless you believe it is unwise for me to leave with so few men by my side.” The boy’s words were inquisitive, holding an unfamiliar softness to him. The realization that the prince is genuinely seeking your approval of his plan caused you to bite back a smile in fear of spoiling his uncharacteristically pleasant mood.
Therefore, rather than rushing an answer to his response, you mulled it over. You had no reservations about your own fighting skills, having been chosen for your current position due to your highly proficient swordsmanship. Additionally, you knew of Diluc’s training with both his Pyro vision and his claymore, so you had few worries for the prince being able to handle his own. Both of these factors combined meant that you only had one issue to worry about.
“Well, according to protocol, a departure from the palace grounds would require multiple guards to be at your side,” You speculated, watching as Diluc’s shoulders fell slightly as he let out a huff of contempt. He lifted up his pen and prepared to work once more, but your additional words caused him to cease this motion. “But… I believe there is a way we can bypass these regulations, but I am not quite sure if you will enjoy it.”
Your plan leads to you standing in the main square of Mondstadt, hands clasped together as you watch a group of children run around the fountain. You are standing in your typical Royal Knight uniform with your weapon strapped to your back. At your side stands Prince Diluc, disguised as a fellow Royal Knight, much to his behest. His claymore rests upon his back, ready for him to wield should any evil-doers elected to make their presences known.
For Diluc, his cherry-colored hair and matching eyes do little to disguise him, but his typical introversion aids him, as the average Mondstadtian is unlikely to recognize their prince and, for those that do, are unlikely to believe that their prince is dressed up in Royal Knight attire and perusing the shops of Mondstadt with only one knight by his side. Your illicit plan, which involved smuggling a spare uniform into the castle then proceeding to sneak the prince wearing said uniform out of the castle, relies now upon one thing: the stupidity of your fellow citizens.
For your job’s sake, you pray to Barbatos that it works.
“I do not enjoy this outfit,” Diluc grumbles next to you, causing your attention to snap from watching the commoners of Mondstadt and instead to the prince of said kingdom. He pinches at some of the fabric on his leg, stretching it around in hopes of making the outfit more comfortable. You have never had any issues with said uniform, but then again, you aren’t a prince who has all of his clothes custom tailored to his build.
“To achieve true happiness, we all have to do things we don’t exactly like to do.” You chirp. Diluc’s aloof visage is now marred by furrowed eyebrows as he tries to decipher any potential hidden meanings behind your potentially parabolic words. However, you fail to give him proper time to ruminate, instead deciding to speak once more. “Where were you hoping to visit, sir?”
Diluc returns to his usual silence, but a faint flush that appears on his cheeks notifies you of his bashfulness.
“I’m… not sure,” He admits. If you did not have a code of conduct to follow, you would be screeching in delight at Diluc, the arrogant prince of Mond, finally admitting he does not know something. “I do not often have the chance to visit the heart of the city, especially in such a leisurely manner. However, you are from here, are you not?”
“I am from Springvale, sir.” You respond, forgoing your typical formality of my prince. After all, such a title would immediately blow Diluc’s cover. The redhead looks crestfallen at your words. “But… I resided in Mondstadt with my father while training to be a knight. I won’t be as good of a tour guide as a local, but I should be decent.”
“Do you know of any… eating establishments?” Diluc asks. You narrowly avoid sending a judgemental look his way at his wording. Did he not know they were called restaurants? Had Diluc never been to a restaurant? You were baffled.
“Do you prefer a to-go restaurant or a sit-down restaurant, sir?” You question and Diluc’s relaxed expression turns into one of befuddlement. Well, that answered the question if Diluc had ever experienced the basic societal activity that was eating at a restaurant. You knew royals were detached from society, but you never would have thought it to be this bad.
“Alright,” You say after a few beats of silence, smart enough to know that Diluc isn’t going to respond. The redhead’s expression returns to his typical indifferent one. “We’ll go to a sit-down restaurant, if that’s okay. A bit more expensive, but it’s probably the most immersive experience for eating at a restaurant for the first time.”
“I have been to a restaurant before,” Diluc lies, trying to save face as his cheeks begin to tint with pink upon realizing that you’ve seen right through him. You look at him blankly and his eyebrows twitch in annoyance upon his revelation that you weren’t buying his protests. “Fine, then. Lead the way.”
His typical annoyed tone is back. Well, kind Diluc was nice while it lasted, you think, rolling your shoulders slightly in preparation for his typical attitude. You nod in response and begin to walk. The prince matches your pace, determined to not fall behind someone of a lower rank than him.
---
You start to wonder if everyone in Mondstadt is pretending to be oblivious to the prince in their presence or if they’re actually just that stupid.
It’s a miracle that you managed to corral the prince’s confident attitude long enough to get him to sit down and order some food at The Good Hunter. Upon your arrival, Diluc managed to ignore the politely worded “Please wait to be seated” sign and started to walk past the hostess table, determined to seat himself. You had to pull him back to you by yanking his arm, an action that surely would have made Diluc lecture you for fifteen minutes, if not for the fact that he was still undercover. Instead, he settled for a scathing glare which only worsened as you gestured at the sign in front of the two of you.
Additionally, the prince was baffled by the entire ordering process, especially upon you informing him that it would take upwards of thirty minutes to receive your food. He was put off by the fact the chefs wouldn’t drop everything just to serve him first, to which you had simply taken a sip of your drink and not responded to such opinions. Now, the two of you were sitting in silence as your gaze fluttered around the restaurant and any passerbys, analyzing for potential threats. You found comfort in the silence as you were used to standing vigilant and quiet through your duty as Diluc’s personal Royal Knight.
“You are quiet,” Diluc states, his words almost an accusation. You look at him inquisitively, your gaze moving from the entrance to his red hues. You tilt your head slightly at his statement, signalling your confusion at his words. Diluc lets out a huff, bothered by your petulant, purposefully silent response. “You never speak unless if spoken to.”
“Would you prefer if I talk more, sir?” You ask. After all, you served the throne, which extended to Diluc. Any wish of his was your command, even if you thought he was generally an uppity, self-absorbed jerk. His eyes narrow slightly.
“I typically appreciate your silence,” Diluc confesses. It doesn’t feel like a compliment. “But now? It is quite irritating.” The prince stares you down, awaiting your reply.
“If I may ask, sir, why is such a thing irritating?” You question, turning your gaze back to the entrance as you speak. “I am merely observing the building for any potential threats to your life.”
“Look around, (Y/N),” Diluc says exasperatedly, as if his answer should be obvious. Yeah, that’s what I’ve been doing, you think bitterly, but elect to keep such thoughts to yourself. “Everyone here is speaking with someone else. Such social interactions are a simplicity of life commoners take for granted. The ability to speak freely with a non-familial companion is something I envy.”
Your gaze snaps back to the prince and you raise your eyebrows. “Is a wish for such companionship why you wished to go to the market, sir? To be a part of the lower citizenry?”
The prince breaks from staring at you, instead electing to study his hands in his lap, flustered by such a straightforward question. “I wish to better understand my subjects, yes. But I also wish to have the same liberties as them. I long for the freedom for platonic association with others of my age.”
“So…” You trail off for a second, lost in thought. “You want friends?”
The prince smiles bitterly at his friends. “Yes,” He answers truthfully. The single word is imbued with intense envy. “Everyone in my life, apart from my father and my brother, is placed in my life to placate me, rather than to accompany me.”
Your eyebrows raise briefly at his confession, perplexed as to why the prince is being so forthright and honest with you. For a split second, you wonder if the prince is swallowing his pride and asking to be your friend, but you quickly shoo such a childish thought out of your brain. You quickly determine that the prince isn’t interested in friendship, but rather wishes to use his subordinates, such as yourself, to fill the void in his heart. You decide to placate him nonetheless with a soft smile.
“Companionship is what you make of it,” You suggest, leaving your words vague as you lean back against your seat, crossing your arms and returning to watching the interest. The two of you fall into a silence once more, before Diluc speaks once more.
“I do not know much about you.” The redhead states. “Where are you from?”
For a man who wanted friends, he’s awfully bad at remembering information about his companions, you think. But you’ll gladly take the forced conversation with Diluc over him barking orders and insults at you all the time. You are well aware that you’ve sworn to protect the throne, even at the cost of your life, but you can’t help the desire for freedom from such burdens that swims in the depths of your mind.
“Springvale,” You echo absentmindedly. You barely hold yourself back from asking where he’s from, even if it would be funny to see his face twist in frustration at your teasing. “I was born there, but moved away at the age of ten to begin training to be a Knight of Favonius. Things changed and I ended up as a Royal Knight instead.”
Diluc’s interest is piqued at your words. You can’t help the feeling of discomfort that washes over you upon the sudden realization that you’re having a friendly conversation with your superior, a man who can barely tolerate your presence on a good day. He seems to be trying, though, and you can’t help but sympathize with his loneliness. As his personal guard, you’d be the first to say that Prince Diluc has very few friends.
“Why did you elect to become a Royal Knight rather than a Knight of Favonius?” Diluc asks, his crimson eyes staring at you.
“Permission to speak freely?” You requested, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. The question that you constantly asked his younger brother was now difficult to get out. Diluc’s eyes widen slightly, startled at your request, but his relaxed visage quickly returns, disguising his emotions once more.
“Permission granted.” Diluc says. The words feel jarring coming from him and you can tell he feels the same discomfort you do at this sudden change in professionalism between the two of you, yet he makes no move to change the topic of conversation or to stop you from speaking.
“My personal view on the Knights of Favonius is that…” Your words sound distant as you try to find the proper way of phrasing what you need to say. “They’re inefficient. Most of the Knights within Ordo Favonius prefer to serve themselves rather than the community of Mondstadt as a whole. They’re there because it’s a well-paying job. They dislike anything that threatens their reputation and job security.”
At that moment, you had no idea how seriously Diluc would take your words and the lasting impact such a confession would have on him.
---
You’re seventeen when you encounter the worst threat to the palace yet. You had been alone, forced to fight an Abyss Mage who had breached Mondstadt’s walls and headed in the direction of the palace. You had destroyed its shield by throwing a rock at a nearby exploding barrel on the wall. The resulting explosion had alerted nearby knights of the Abyss Mage’s presence, but the creature’s Cryo magic had severely frostbitten your arm before any help could arrive. In return, you had wielded your sword with a single hand and delivered the killing blow to the creature.
The Knights of Favonius weren’t happy with your decision to kill the creature, stating that having an abyss mage in their possession could have been a valuable resource. Helping the Knights of Favonius with their research wasn’t your job -- protecting the throne was. Therefore, you had no regrets about your decision to kill the gremlin who had almost taken your arm.
You sit on a bed in the Cathedral’s infirmary as a healer frets over your arm, using the power of their Anemo vision to speed up the healing process. The frostbite was recoverable, they had told you, but it would likely result in permanent scarring. To ensure full use of your arm would return, you were recommended to take a leave of absence from your protective duties in the palace for the following month.
While you were happy to be alive, you were irritated that such a situation would put you out of work for the next month. Sure, your position wasn’t the greatest, but it was a stepping stone to a better position within the Royal Knights, such as becoming one of the king’s personal knights or one of the organizers of palace operations. The organization itself focused on palace operations, which meant there wasn’t much room for growth as compared to the Knights of Favonius, who protected Mondstadt’s citizenry.
A month out of work meant a month less of progress in your career and, more importantly, a month less of protecting the throne you had sworn your life to protect. Your fate of becoming a knight was a decision you had made at a young age, clueless and starry-eyed, as you watched your father perform his duties around the palace. He had been a high-ranking Royal Knight, one of King Crepus’s personal entourage. He had wholeheartedly believed in everything the throne of Mond stood for, declaring that the throne protected the freedom of Mond’s people and fulfilled Barbatos’s wishes. As you trusted and idolized your father, you also inherited his same ideologies, locking you into a permanent life of duty as you swore to help defend Mond’s royal family from harm.
You had made that promise when you were ten and had yet to doubt it, seven years later.
The door to your infirmary room swings open and you watch the healer, still fussing over your arm as he applies new bandages, jump slightly at the unexpected intrusion. Despite the pain medications that the Sisters had given you before the healer began his work, your arm still throbs in pain, causing you to let out a hiss as the healer moves your arm in the midst of his surprise. He mutters a slight apology, but you’re more distracted by the intruder.
Your eyes widen in surprise, not having expected the intruder to be none other than Prince Diluc. His eyes flicker to your arm and, despite how the pain medication swirls your vision and jumbles your thoughts, you can see the irked disappointment in his eyes at your injury. Such a wound only results in inconvenience for him as he now needs to have a temporary replacement knight, who is unfamiliar with his typical protocols and routines. The prince lets out a long sigh.
“What? My supposed best knight is unable to handle some cryo slimes?” Diluc scoffs derisively.
Since your birthday last year, your relationship with Diluc has improved somewhat. Speaking to him often resulted in stiff, awkward conversation, but it is an upgrade from before, where talking to the prince in an amicable manner wasn’t even an option. More often than not, it would be the prince initiating awkward conversation between the two of you, not quite sure how to interact with someone his age outside without the use of diplomatic charm. The prince, just under two years older than you, didn’t seem interested in being your friend, but you also weren’t sure what to make of his platonic advances.
But now, as you sat in the Cathedral’s infirmary, you realized Diluc wasn’t here to provide friendship. He was just here to lecture you about your mistake of choosing to fight an Abyss Mage, about how you should’ve just let another knight deal with him, and about how you should have sacrificed the potential safety of the throne for his immediate comfort.
“Wasn’t any slimes,” Your lips are heavy as you struggle to form the words without slurring them together. “Was an Abyss Mage. Cryo one.” Your mind churns as you try your absolute hardest to focus on the situation at hand. Diluc’s in the room, you remind yourself as you fight the urge to slump back and fall asleep. You stare at Diluc, eyelids drooping with fatigue. You notice your fresh bandages turning red once more, causing the healer to sigh and apply more to your arm.
The prince is silent, but you see a quick flash of fear pass over his face, followed by an expression of concern. Both emotions are short-lived as he readjusts his posture and presses his lips into a frown, crosses his arms, and shifts his weight onto one leg.
“You should not have fought an Abyss Ma-,” He begins, but a loud bark of a laugh erupts from your system, interrupting him.
“H… Have you ever fought anything?” Your words are accusatory and borderline incoherent, but the narrowing of Diluc’s eyes lets you know that he understood what you had just said. “All… all you do is sit around! And… and… and you waste your vision! Everyone does everything… for you… I fight to protect you… your family… I don’t want to get injured, but here I am…”
The healer, upon realizing that you’re disrespecting the crown prince of Mond, wordlessly excuses himself from the situation and slips past Diluc to exit the room. Diluc parts his lips, ready to speak again, as a scowl crosses his face at your disrespectful words. However, before the redhead can speak once more, you raise a shaky hand, holding up your middle finger to the prince.
“If you’re… if you’re just gonna lecture me for… risking my life… for you… eat shit.” You manage to say, words garbled. You relish in the widening of Diluc’s eyes as he opens his mouth to yell before closing your eyes and promptly falling asleep, slumping over on the infirmary bed.
---
You awoke the next day with no recollection of the prior day’s events, except an innate sense of satisfaction, as if you had gotten something off your chest. Nervous that you had potentially said something foul to someone you shouldn’t have, you awaited a formal reprimanding of your unknown actions, but never received one.
Now, two weeks in, you’re finally getting back to normal as you water the plants outside of the knight’s quarters, having been assigned to take care of the landscaping today. Despite the tasks being relatively easy, they took you a while to complete due to one of your arms being stuck in a sling. You crouch over, trying to balance as you lean forward to water one of the red flowers stuck in the back of the arrangement.
“Hey!” A voice calls, causing you to drop the watering can in surprise, the water sloshing over your feet and onto the cobblestone around you. You lose your balance and fall backwards, landing on your butt, but before you can lecture the person who scared you, you feel two hands place themselves on each side of your waist.
“Up we go!” A familiar voice sings before hoisting you up to stand back on your own two feet. You turn around and narrow your eyes at him, placing the hand holding the empty watering can on your hip. The blue-haired boy before you smiles unabashedly, utterly pleased with himself. “Anything to save a damsel in distress!”
“Yeah, I’m definitely defenseless,” You grumble sarcastically as the boy takes the watering can from you. His physique has changed over the years due to his interest in becoming a high ranking Knight of Favonius, but both his azure eyes still gleam with childlike mischief. He nudges your uninjured arm playfully.
“Aw, cheer up! You’re the toughest one-armed fighter I know!” Kaeya jests. You roll your eyes in response, biting back a smirk at his antics.
“I’m the only one-armed fighter you know.” You respond as Kaeya gently grabs your wrist and guides you to the bench where the two of you typically sit.
“Two weeks ago. What happened?” Kaeya asks, gesturing to your arm. You tilt your head, confused at his question. Surely he’s heard about it by now..? You think to yourself.
“An Abyss Mage got past Mondstadt’s outer walls, I was on break when I saw it, and I had to fight it, sir.” You explain quickly, but Kaeya simply shakes his head in response.
“No, not that! What happened in the infirmary?” His voice is teasing, but your blood can’t help but run cold at his words. Your intuition that something had happened between the time you arrived at the infirmary and before you fell asleep was correct. Much to your chagrin, you hadn’t been able to remember your actions, but apparently they were remarkable enough for the younger prince to have heard about them.
You let out a groan and rub your free hand over your face, already mortified by your actions that you had no recollection of. Kaeya lets out a laugh.
“Diluc visited you,” He explains, causing you to let out an even louder, more obnoxious groan. You lean forward on the bench, resting your elbow in your knee and cradling your forehead in your uninjured hand.
“Oh gods, what did I say?” You whined. After years of friendship with the younger prince, he had insisted you no longer be so formal with him. Honorifics slipped into your speech on rare occasions, but you generally spoke to Kaeya in the same way you would speak to your friends back home in Springvale.
Kaeya laughs at your theatrics. “Well, you weren’t very nice. You told him to, and I quote, ‘eat shit’ if he wanted to yell at you.”
You let out a noise of horror and Kaeya’s laughter at your embarrassment shakes his whole body. Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, the younger prince is absolutely delighted in your misery at the situation at hand.
“That’s not all! You also gave him the middle finger!” Kaeya giggles, nudging you as you continue your woeful theatrics. “You didn’t even use the right finger. You were trying to give him the middle finger but you used your pointer finger!”
You want to die. Heat is rising to your face so quickly that you swear you are going to faint. Kaeya pauses as your theatrics die down as you begin to hyperventilate, panicked at the situation at hand. Not only did you tell the crown prince to eat shit, you had also attempted to give him an inflammatory gesture and managed to mess up said gesture. Your career was over, you would become a disgrace to the nation, and, at the worst, you could be thrown in jail for such disrespect to the royal family.
You were a disgrace to the royal throne you swore your life to serve.
Heaving air in and out, you sit up, trying to keep your balance and not pass out from stress. Your eyes brim with tears and Kaeya looks at you in alarm. His hand finds your back, rubbing soothing circles that do little to placate your panic.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” He tries to soothe over your worries. “Someone had to tell Diluc that at some point!”
You let out a choked sob, leaning over once more. “T… that doesn’t help,” You whimpered. Kaeya’s blue eyes stare at your hunched over form, his blue irises swimming with regret and distress at your current state.
“Um… my dad found it funny?” Kaeya tries once more. Your sobs only worsen, causing Kaeya to clench his teeth at his own words.
“The king even knows about my irreverent actions?” You cry and Kaeya’s stress upon seeing your own stress only worsens. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you in for a side-hug, rubbing his hand up and down on your shoulder in a calming manner. “You’re not in trouble, Diluc’s not mad… anymore, at least.”
Your crying turns into soft sniffles and Kaeya thanks Barbatos that he was able to calm you down. Wiping your tears away with the back of your hand, you let out a shaky sigh.
“I can’t believe I did that,” You breathe and Kaeya lets out a soft, reassuring chuckle.
“We all make mistakes, plus you were on some heavy medication!” He pauses as you look over at him and bites his lip slightly, as if he wants to say something more. You look at him expectantly and he lets out a soft sigh of defeat at your watery eyes pleading for him to continue. “Plus… I think Diluc kinda likes it when you yell at him.”
“You’re gross,” You whine, voice still wet with tears, but you manage out a soft laugh after your words. “No, he doesn’t.”
“You’d be surprised about how he feels about you,” Kaeya teases, but you detect faint traces of sincerity and, if you focus hard enough, jealousy. Rather than dwelling on hidden meanings, you elect to take the blue-haired boy’s words at face value, nudging him back and giving him a look of faux disgust before letting out a soft giggle. He laughs and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “You’re so much prettier when you laugh, (Y/N)!”
You let out a soft laugh at his words, “Yeah, I’m sure I look spectacular right now.”
---
Diluc spots you from afar, recognizing your familiar figure crouched over windwheel asters in front of the knight’s chambers. He’s perusing the grounds on a routine walk as his bumbling replacement Royal Knight clambers after him in your absence. The replacement knight is lanky and nervous, filling comfortable silence with nervous chatter, despite Diluc’s best attempts to dissuade him from such actions. He’s an archer with barely enough arm strength to pull the bowstring back.
The red-eyed prince would never admit it to anyone, but he missed you. Not only did you make Diluc feel far more secure than the inept oaf that could barely keep up with him, but Diluc also missed your presence. He missed how you would speak with a slight edge to your tone, adding a dual meaning to your respectful words. Diluc missed the challenge you would provide him.
Even if he was on his deathbed, Diluc would never admit how his heart rate quickened and how heat rose to his face when you yelled at him with the disdain he always showed you. He would never admit how worried he was when you immediately passed out after doing so, blood seeping past your haphazardly applied bandages and spilling onto the floor. No, Diluc would never admit how his thoughts over the last two weeks had primarily consisted of you, even though the two of you had not yet spoken.
Diluc wasn’t sure what to make of his thoughts, nor his altered emotions when you were around. Despite the fact that his tempestuous attitude made him detest the way you were constantly on his mind, a larger part of him wished to keep you close and have you serving the throne at his side once again.
The blundering knight catches up to Diluc as the redhead’s brisk pace slows to a halt as he observes you. After an unknown amount of time, the knight clears his throat, snapping Diluc out of his reverie. The redhead watches you for a moment more. His stomach churns as he watches his younger brother approach you, hold you close, and make you laugh.
Diluc isn’t sure what this feeling that’s gnawing away at his stomach is. A part of his brain tells him that it’s obvious, but Diluc denies such obvious truths, knowing he, one of royal blood, would feel such an emotion over a mere commoner and subordinate of his. Watching you with Kaeya, however, brings an immense frustration to the forefront of Diluc’s thoughts. A scowl forms on the crown prince’s face as he whips his head to the direction of the inept fool that’s been assigned to protect him.
“Let’s go,” He snaps. The knight shakily salutes in response, his composure shaken yet again by Diluc’s sour temperament.
---
Two more weeks pass and you’re officially freed from the restrictions placed upon your duties. After passing a clearance test at the Cathedral which resulted in the destruction of multiple training dummies, you were cleared for full duty as a Royal Knight once more. You were thrilled to be free from the chains of the menial labor you had been assigned for the last month and excited to get back to work, but such feelings were also accompanied with unease. You had a pit in your stomach at the thought of going back to serve the prince that you had so blatantly deprecated.
But, nonetheless, you enter Diluc’s chambers, your typical neutral expression adorning your face. The prince looks up from his desk, slightly startled by the intrusion, but a brief smirk crosses over his face at your presence before returning to a stoic expression, almost as if he was mimicking your own. He parts his lips to speak, but before he can, you drop yourself down on one knee, genuflecting in his direction. You don’t make eye contact, electing to stare down at your knee instead.
“Please forgive my spiteful words I uttered upon our last meeting, my liege,” You request, uttering the words you had practiced many times in the mirror this morning while getting ready. “I was not in the right frame of mind.”
Diluc stares down at you, expression unreadable. The silence is nearly unbearable, suffocating you as the tendrils of embarrassment and shame swirl up your legs, around your torso, and settle on your throat before pressing down, choking you of air. You feel a flush of heat rise to your face as the seconds tick on. You’re unsure if the prince is going to speak at all, let alone forgive you, but your doubts are quelled as he clears his throat.
You look up at him to see narrowed crimson hues staring down at you sternly.
“Very well. Do not say such things ever again,” Diluc warns. You jump to your feet and salute in his direction.
“Yes, sir!” You respond and the prince lets out a huff before returning his attention to the papers on his desk once more. You move to stand watch by the door, but the prince clearing his throat once more has you turning around to look at him again.
“Oh, and (Y/N)?” Diluc questions and you brace yourself, ready for him to unload his anger upon you. However, he does no such thing. “I have a meeting at nine with some Sumerian scholars interested in Mondstadt’s alchemic discoveries. Don’t let me be late.” The redhead doesn’t look up, already having begun moving his pen across the papers in front of him once more.
“Understood, sir.” You respond as you reach your typical spot by the door. You bite back a smile as you stand guard.
---
Over the next several months, you notice major changes in Diluc’s demeanor and attitude towards you. The prince is more confident, but in a less suffocating, arrogant manner, but rather a more charming manner. He remains an introvert, but his diplomatic meetings end up with far better results due to him learning to navigate the rough tides of foreign relationships and his mastering of hollow platitudes to placate any overseas dignitaries. He’s no longer a brash and tempestuous presence in the field of international relations, but one made of falsified smiles and foreign appeasement.
For once, you look at Diluc and see not only a prince, but the rightful heir to the throne.
The change isn’t instantaneous, but for Diluc’s personality to have made such a massive change in such a short time, you realize that there must be something the prince is trying to work toward or someone he desires to impress. Despite being at his side for almost his entire day, from when he starts work in the morning to when he retires to his chambers at night, you aren’t entirely sure what his motivation is.
You figure it’s likely something his father said to him, due to their frequent meetings you aren’t present for. Even from your earliest days working as Diluc’s bodyguard, you could tell he valued his familial relationships above all else. While he often remained hot-tempered with Kaeya, his relationship with his father was amicable and one Diluc cherished. From the few times you had been in King Crepus’s presence, the king had showcased what the throne of Mond should stand for; he put the freedom of his constituents first and reigned only to ensure order and protection for the people within Mond.
Your few interactions with the king had such a positive impact on you that they, along with your father’s actions, spurred you to join the Royal Knights. You could only imagine what type of influence the king’s constant presence had on Diluc.
Most noticeably of all, however, was Diluc’s attitude towards you. He was no Kaeya in terms of charm nor friendliness, but silences between the two of you were no longer forced and neither was conversation. The crown prince was more attentive to which types of conversation seemed to genuinely interest you, as compared to forced small talk. He also understood that silence wasn’t a form of punishment, nor did it signal that he was angry.
You wonder if he changed due to your conversation at the infirmary. Diluc lectured you less, sent less scornful looks your way, and insulted your skills less frequently. The changes had been so subtle that you hadn’t noticed how Diluc had blurred the lines between being a person whom you guard only due to obligation to someone you would protect without hesitation until the two of you browse Mondstadt’s yearly winter market together.
Diluc’s carmine irises glint with the reflection of the white Christmas lights adorning the square as he peered into the windows of a bakery. He seems quietly enraptured by a miniature palace that sat in the center of the cakes and other delicacies, made out of gingerbread. As you turn to look around at everyone else, ever vigilant, you notice the prince suddenly snap his gaze away from the display and look around wide-eyed.
You begin to reach for the hilt of your sword that rests on your back, but you freeze when Diluc’s vision stabilizes on you. His stance relaxes and the redhead offers you a small smile before waving for you to come over. You drop your hand that now rests on the hilt of your blade to your side and begin to walk over, watching as Diluc stares at you in slight confusion before letting out a soft laugh.
At that moment, you realize something that fourteen-year-old you would have loathed you for saying: you would call Prince Diluc a friend.
“Have you ever had gingerbread before?” Diluc asks, turning his gaze from you to read the label underneath the castle.
You nod your head. “It’s made with um… cinnamon… cloves… not sure what else, but the gingerbread in the window’s probably crunchy and… not really sweet? It relies on the taste of the spices within it, not sugar.”
The prince looks thoughtfully at the gingerbread palace once more. “I know what gingerbread is, but do people really eat these… ornate structures?” His tone is confused, but sincere. You let out a soft laugh of amusement. The old Diluc would have interpreted it as an act of derision, but current Diluc simply awaits your answer.
“Oh, that’s a tradition to put them into houses and buildings and such, but you can also shape it into little gingerbread men. Those are my favorite! Typically the smaller decorations are eaten first, but people don’t really eat the big houses,” You elaborate, excited to talk about the desserts as you also ogle the gingerbread display. Diluc looks at you halfway through your speech and smiles softly at your warm tone, pleased to have evoked such a reaction from you.
“Wait out here,” Diluc orders and, before you can protest, the crown prince slips into the shop, the bells on its door chiming softly as he enters. You stand by the door, your gaze moving from peering through the glass at Diluc to watching the commoners walk by. Only a few moments later, the bells chime once again as Diluc exits. A small paper bag is in his hand and he opens it up.
“Hold out your hand,” He orders in a sharp tone while looking into the bag. You comply, flattening your hand and holding it in front of you. Diluc plops a small gingerbread man in your hand. “It reminded me of you.”
The cookie is a traditional knight dressed in armor and is decorated with royal purple frosting and a white sword in its left hand. You stare at it for a moment, before a wide grin breaks out on your face, shattering your aloof expression.
“Thank you,” You murmur softly. Diluc’s cheeks flush red at your praise, but you attribute such a change in his appearance to be caused by the temperature change from exiting the warm building.
---
Diluc, you have come to find, is easily distracted by storefronts. Even his stoic demeanor cannot hide the childlike awe in his eyes when he sees something interesting in a window display. He’s dragged you in and out of numerous stores after being enraptured by objects in the windows. It’s bad enough that the both of you are now carrying bags of various trinkets he’s purchased with his seemingly limitless funds. Diluc, you note, doesn’t seem to get out much.
While you enjoy the chance to shop and explore Mondstadt’s seasonal festivities, you do not enjoy the snowfall that coats your hair and uniform as you wait outside each shop, standing watch. Despite being bundled up in layers, you’re still cold from standing still for so long.
Diluc exits yet another shop and stifles a yawn. “I believe I should head back now. It’s getting late,” He mutters and you simply nod in response, following his lead as he begins to walk back to the castle. The two of you walk in silence as the chatter of Mondstadt’s civilians and the crunching of your shoes on freshly fallen snow fill the gaps.
After a few minutes of trying to hold it in, you can’t help but shiver at the cold. You feel a bit of heat rise to your face, embarrassed that a knight of your stature is shivering due to cold, and it only multiplies as Diluc suddenly stops next to you.
“Are you cold?” The redhead asks, his gaze intense.
“No,” You lie, shaking your head. His eyes narrow.
“Take my scarf,” He orders, but you shake your head once more.
“I couldn’t possibly do such a thing,” You refuse politely, but Diluc isn’t having any of it.
“You’re cold, therefore take the scarf,” His explanation is rough and laced with the typical tone of annoyance you’re all too familiar with. He begins to unwind his scarf from around his neck.
“It’s my duty to ensure your comfort,” You protest. “Therefore, you keep the scarf as you should stay warm.”
“It would make me more comfortable if you wore the scarf instead.” Diluc argues and you swear you see his eye twitch slightly. “Plus, what kind of prince would I be if I let my constituents suffer on my behalf?”
Bullseye. He knew right where to hit you, despite his irate and annoyed tone. That bastard knew to appeal to your sense of honor in order to get you to do something. Begrudgingly, you hold out your hand to take the scarf, but before you can stop him, Diluc’s stepping close to you and wrapping the scarf around your neck for you. He forms two loose loops around your neck and you can feel his breath on your face as he looks at your neck. The prince’s leather-gloved fingertips brush against your neck as he adjusts the scarf and you watch his eyes narrow slightly in concentration as he fixes the scarf.
“There,” He almost sneers upon deciding that the scarf’s placement was adequate enough. “Now was that so hard?” Without waiting for your response, the prince turns and continues walking back to the castle. You pause for a moment, flustered, before jogging after him slightly to catch up.
The two of you continue your walk in silence, but the warmth of the scarf does nothing to eliminate the chill of the blade strapped to your back, reminding you that your and Diluc’s relationship is no more than one of contractual obligation.
---
Diluc’s kind behavior lasts for about two more years. The prince, now twenty, departs Mondstadt’s capital for three weeks, without you by his side. Diluc is now under protection of the king’s guards and a squadron of the Knights of Favonius as his father accompanies him on the journey to Fontaine, meaning that you get an extended vacation from your royal duties. You visit your home in Springvale during this break, aching to get back to work as the lack of activities slowly begins to drive you mad.
Your birthday occurs within this break period and, much to your surprise, a bouquet of red carnations is delivered to your doorstep as a gift from the prince himself. Diluc had never done such a gesture before and you ignore the way your heart beats a tad bit faster as you read the note settled amidst the beautiful, deep carmine blossoms. You recognize Diluc’s penmanship instantly as you spot the words ‘Happy birthday, (Y/N).’ sprawled across the card.
You smile softly to yourself and tuck the card back into the bouquet before admiring the blossoms. Brushing your fingers over the petals with a featherlight touch, you opt to set the vase on your dining room table rather than admire it for much longer. You’re certain a bouquet such flowers, considered exotic in Mondstadt, costs more than double your paycheck. You do not wish to dwell on such a thought for too long.
When your mother arrives home later that night, she pops her head into your room to say hello, a knowing smirk gracing her features.
“Who sent the flowers?” She asks in an amused tone as you bookmark the page of the book in your hands and close it in order to pay full attention to her. “Are you dating someone that I don’t know about?”
“Yuck, that’s weird,” You let out a soft laugh. “No, they were sent by the prince for my birthday.”
“Prince Diluc or Prince Kaeya?” Your mother asks, a mixture of surprise and concern in her voice.
“Prince Diluc,” You clarify, raising your eyebrows at her tone. “Why?”
“Red carnations have an… interesting meaning,” Your mother, a florist, explains. “...Interesting birthday gift.” You shrug off her implication and open up your book again, not wanting to hear your mother’s crazy theories about meanings of the flower bouquet.
“He probably just picked them because he likes the color red. Don’t sweat it too much,” You say absentmindedly, the pages of your book already drawing you back into reading. Your mother giggles, excusing herself from the conversation as she trots down the hallway.
For your own sanity, you choose not to dwell on her words. You planned to thank Diluc for his kindness
---
The nation is in mourning.
Diluc had returned last night, bloodied and traumatized, from his trip to Fontaine. Alongside of him, only half of the Royal Knight and Knight of Favonius combined unit that accompanied the royal family returned as well. The most notable absence, however, was King Crepus himself. Rumors immediately spread like wildfire, ranging from the idea of Diluc having killed the king to seize the throne all the way to a Fatui attack on the royal family. You’re doubtful that such outlandish notions are true.
The official declaration the following day proves you to be correct; the palace announces that the royal caravan had been attacked by a dragon, resulting in King Crepus’ death, the death of seven Royal Knights, and the death of three Knights of Favonius. Even the typically lively center of Springvale is no louder than a quiet whisper the following day as the nation grieves the loss of its leader and loyal knights.
Your heart hurts for both of the princes, knowing how difficult it is to lose a parent. You can only imagine how much harder it is when their next moves and responses to their father’s death will only become fodder for royal gossip. The throne, which you had sworn to protect, was now vacant, but such an event had been out of your hands. You hadn’t been allowed to accompany the royal family on their journey and, without a vision, you would have likely been killed if you had gone anyways.
However, upon the palace’s announcement of the king’s death, it was also announced that Prince Diluc would not immediately be crowned due to “unforeseen stipulations” King Crepus had left behind in his will. This information, of course, immediately became gossip amongst the townsfolk, ranging from Diluc needing to find a bride before marrying to ideas that Diluc needed to obtain an Anemo vision before being allowed to lead the nation. You were wary about such ideas and figured Diluc had prepared for whatever requirements his father had left for him.
Three days after the death of King Crepus, each Royal Knight, including yourself, receives orders that they no longer work at the palace. Ordo Favonius takes over these claims, allowing any Royal Knight to join their ranks. You want to believe that Diluc wouldn’t just shut you out like this, but you know better. Diluc never wanted any Royal Knights by his side and, after his father’s death due to a lack of adequate knights, certainly wouldn’t want a visionless personal guard. You had almost died fighting an Abyss Mage, for archon’s sake. How would you be able to protect Diluc from a dragon?
The death of his father meant the end of your contract with the prince. You knew this would happen one day. You ignore the feelings of sadness that blossom in your chest at such a thought, contributing them to the (hopefully) temporary end of the Royal Knights as an organization. Your sadness is not over your lack of connection with the elder prince, you tell yourself, but rather grief over the career path you had sworn to follow upon finishing training.
Once Diluc sets his mind to something, it’s almost impossible to sway him from such thoughts. Therefore, ignoring the clenching of your heart, you sign away your future to the Knights of Favonius and agree to participate in a training assessment in order to determine your new title and which sector you would join the ranks of within Ordo Favonius.
Your only regret about the time with the Knights is that you did not have a chance to say goodbye to either prince.
---
A week later, you receive your placement within the Knights of Favonius. Despite your lack of expertise in such an area, you had been appointed to the Cavalry Unit within the Knights of Favonius ranks. You weren’t unfamiliar with a horse; you had scored highly on your cavalry usage exams in training. However, you hadn’t ridden one since your appointment to the Royal Knights.
Upon your arrival to your first day of your new position, you learned you weren’t the only new face within the unit. Five other Royal Knights had been placed within the Cavalry Unit as well. Most shocking of all, however, was the the appointment of a new Cavalry Captain, especially since the knight chosen for the position was none other than Prince Kaeya himself.
The blue-haired prince, now sporting an eyepatch and a cryo vision, looked equally as confused to see you as you were to see him. Rather than sporting his typical jovial attitude, he simply nodded his acknowledgement of your presence. Kaeya was your superior now, after all, meaning he couldn’t showcase favoritism. The prince announced a few changes to the cavalry unit. First, you were to address Kaeya as ‘captain’ and not ‘prince’. Second, the cavalry unit would focus on securing Mondstadt’s perimeter, along with the perimeter of any outer villages as needed. Thirdly, the point Kaeya elaborated the least on, there was to be no talk of the royal family unless essential to the tasks at hand.
As he finishes his speech, you salute and chant your understanding with your new comrades. You can’t help but wonder why Kaeya now wears said eyepatch and why he has a new vision. Despite you having seen him a month ago, the blue-eyed boy now seems lightyears away from you, as if he was sand falling through the cracks of your hands without you even realizing.
---
Two years pass and, due to your work ethic in comparison to other Cavalry Unit members, you ascend in the ranks of your unit. Being one of the top five members of the thirty member unit meant that you and Kaeya spent more time together. You slowly watched as the blue-haired man began to revert to the boy he once was, but he never fully regressed to his childlike state. For starters, Kaeya is far more secretive than he used to be, electing to use little white lies to avoid conflict and any deep, meaningful conversations. There is a profound sadness that mars his powerful stature that wasn’t there before.
In the words he does exchange with you, his brother is never mentioned. The thought of bringing such a topic up to Kaeya makes your tongue heavy, the words remaining unspoken. Instead, Kaeya elects to talk about easily digestible topics in brief phases, such as small talk about the weather, unimportant chatter about military gossip, and hushed conversations about current trends in Mondstadt.
Kaeya has plunged himself into a self-imposed exile within the icy waters of his mind and you lack the proper equipment to save him. You can only watch as he disappears into the salty blue depths of anguish from the safety of the shore, unsure how to lend a helping hand. You are crafted from the sharp blades of swords, untrained in the studies of alchemical healing.
The blue-haired prince’s spirits only rise in the spirits of others, namely the ones sold by Angel’s Share. Every Friday night, as a mandatory “team bonding” activity, Kaeya and the four other highest ranking members of the Cavalry Unit, which unfortunately includes you, collectively go to Angel’s Share and get absolutely wasted, making blubbering fools of themselves. Tonight, just like every other Friday night, you can tell when Kaeya’s on his third drink as he begins to ramble about the history of Angel’s Share. He noisily explains how Angel’s Share is the legendary bar founded by the first King of Mondstadt before he had obtained the throne. During this time period, you slip a few spare mora to the poor waitress having to deal with your rowdy group who will inevitably throw the bill of tonight’s drunken activities on the backs of taxpayers.
You spend your evening nursing a glass of grape juice, wary eyes darting around the room in an analytical habit you had picked up from your job years prior. Old habits die hard after all. You watch as the first two fellow unit members excuse themselves the bar, deciding to stumble out before they could completely disgrace themselves.
It isn’t until Kaeya’s sixth glass of Death After Noon that the rest of the unit calls it quits, wobbling their way back home. One glance at the prince has you signaling to the bartender to cut the prince’s supply off. You stand up and walk over to Kaeya, who suddenly looks elated that you’re here.
“(Y/N)! My favorite!” Kaeya exclaims from his seat, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug and forcing you to rest your hand on the table for balance. “You came for my birthday party!”
“It’s not your birthday, Captain,” You respond. Your heart clenches at his carefree tone, reminded of your teenage years with the boy. The smell of his alcohol-laden breath dispels such naively hopeful notions and you push yourself out of his loosened grip. “Alright, it’s time to go home.”
“Home?” Kaeya asks, his revealed iris glistening with confusion. “Why? It’s not fun there… the party’s here!” The prince is pliable as you hoist him up and swing his arm around your shoulder, clutching onto his waist for support. Archons, the prince was heavy. You take a small step and, despite the alcohol fuzzing his brain, Kaeya seems to understand and stumbles alongside of you.
Once again, you are no more than a glorified babysitter.
You fish the bag of mora Kaeya brought with him out of his back pocket and the prince giggles as you unceremoniously toss the bag out on the table and drag him out of the bar. The two of you walk in silence for a few minutes before Kaeya begins to chant your name over and over. Despite your annoyance, you decide to indulge him.
“What.” Your words lack any form of sincerity, embittered with the situation at hand. Kaeya reaches over and pokes your cheek with a free hand.
“I miss you, y’know?” Kaeya croons, before he smiles with watery eyes. “All the time. You’re always on my mind.”
Oh Barbatos, here we go, you think. You had encountered the prince while intoxicated numerous times before, but never before this had he directed his sappiness in your direction.
“Y’know why?” He teases, slurring his words slightly. You continue to trudge on in silence, shifting him slightly to try to make it easier to carry him along. Kaeya frowns at your silence. “Guess why!” His words are a demand and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Any chivalrous respect you had for Prince Kaeya was now absolutely demolished, due to both his public intoxication and the comforting fact that he wouldn’t remember any of this conversation in the morning.
“Why?” You ask unenthusiastically, knowing he won’t leave you alone until you do so.
“Because I’m in love with you, silly! I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen,” At his confession, you almost drop him. Your blood runs cold, but you trudge on nonetheless. An oath to protect the royal family persists even if one drunkenly confesses their love to you. Your heart clenches with pain for Kaeya, wishing you could have realized his feelings sooner. Maybe it would have alleviated some of the pain he carries each day and tries to wash away through copious amounts of liquor.
He burps loudly and lets out a bitter laugh. “You’re so… so pretty. And strong! But… he fancied you first! I can’t compete…” The man trails off, seemingly losing track of what he’s saying, stumbling through his words. “I can’t compete with royal blood.”
Your hand slips off his waist and the two of you are sent tumbling into the ground as Kaeya’s arm around your shoulder drags you down with him.
---
Your legs are shaking from exertion as you guide Kaeya through the darkened hallways of the castle, softly shushing him and pulling him closer to you each time he tries to twist away from your grip to cause drunken havoc on the hallway decorations. His free hand trails across the stone walls as he giggles at their texture, having forgotten all about his woeful, self-pitying cries from earlier. As you round the corner to enter the hallway consisting of the chambers of both princes, Kaeya’s quiet amusement with the ornate tapestries that adorn the walls stops.
“We’re home!” Kaeya yells and you immediately shush him, absolutely terrified of waking up a certain redhead.
The corridor reeks of familiarity, nearly suffocating you with nostalgia for simpler, happier times. The decorations have barely changed, aside from a new vase by the door to Kaeya’s room.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you around here, (Y/N)!” Kaeya cheers and you shush him once more, silently pleading with Barbatos to shut the blue-haired prince up. If anyone nearby was unaware of your disgraceful return to the palace grounds, they certainly knew now. His voice drops in volume a bit, still far too loud for this time of night, but better than his raucous hollering as the two of you approach his door. "Would you like to come in, my fair lady? I know many ways to pleasure a woman."
You’ve sacrificed every Friday night for far too long for Prince Kaeya. You love him while he’s sober, but now? You absolutely despise his drunken antics.
"The only pleasure I'll get tonight is finally being able to get rid of your drunken ass," you finally snap, nearly dropping Kaeya once more in mortification at your own words. You couldn't speak to a prince so callously, especially when you were stone-cold sober.
Kaeya pauses before throwing himself into a fit of drunken laughter. "You're so cute but you're so mean, (Y/N)!"
You ignore his antics, realizing the best course of action is to get the rowdy prince in his room where he can scream to his heart’s content. You turn the knob of the door and shove Kaeya into the room, causing him to let out a nervous giggle.
“You’re coming in?” He exclaims and lets out a gasp of surprise. “But wait, I’m shy!” He throws his hand dramatically to his forehead, pretending to faint as the back of his palm lightly brushes it. You let out a loud grunt as the dumb bastard son of a bitch motherfucker drops the entirety of his weight on you. Unable to support him any longer, the prince falls to the ground next to you and laughs. You finally understand why the young bartender at Cat’s Tail hates drunk people so much.
“Captain, get up,” You order, exhaustion creeping into your tone. You prod his stomach lightly with your foot as the drunken prince lets out a groan in response. He closes his eye, ready to fall asleep on the ground, but you manage to muster the last of your strength to pick him up bridal-style. After you rush over to his bed, you unceremoniously drop him on his plush mattress.
Your job is now done. You could strip his clothing down to make him more comfortable while sleeping, but you’re not sure if you can muster the energy to do so. Such an action is beyond the new jurisdiction of your duties as a Knight of Favonius. Plus, you’re fairly sure you’d never be able to look Kaeya in the eye again if you did do such a thing.
“Wait, my loyal knight,” Kaeya drunkenly slurs as you turn to leave his chambers. You bite back a sigh of defeat and turn to look at him with a blank expression. Internally, you’re trying to calm yourself down, utterly frustrated with the situation at hand. “Come here.”
When a prince calls for you, you unfortunately have to listen. You trudge over to Kaeya and place a hand on your hip, looking down at him. The prince shuffles around on his bed as he clumsily sits up, leaning on the headboard for support. You open your mouth to ask him what he needs, but before you can utter the words, Kaeya heaves forward and disperses the contents of his stomach all over your uniform before falling back into his pillows, passed out.
You are speechless as you look down at your clothing, now stained with the deep red-purple hues of the copious amounts of wine Kaeya had ingested earlier in the evening. Biting back the urge to throw up in return, especially as you feel the fabric of your clothes begin to dampen against your skin. You quickly ensure the prince is asleep before quite literally tearing off your soiled pants in disgust.
Despite the oath of fealty that bound you to your job, you briefly considered threatening to quit after tonight unless you got a raise. Now, you were pantless and soon-to-be shirtless due to the sheer incapability of being able to handle somebody else’s body fluids against your skin. Your eyes darted over to Kaeya’s closet and a lightbulb went off in your head.
---
You had taken one of the younger prince’s spare uniforms in his closet and left him a nicely written note explaining the situation. Rather than saying that he threw up on you, you simply wrote that your outfit had been torn while carrying him back to the palace. Some facts, you believed, were best left as secrets. The fabric bunched over your shoulders as you adjusted it to the best of your capabilities, trying to get the odd size to fit your figure properly as you silently cursed Kaeya for having such broad shoulders.
Wrapping your now shredded and sullied uniform into a ball and tucking it under your arm, you made sure Kaeya was asleep once more before stealthily sneaking your way to the door. In a way, you felt like Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to give to the poor, except the poor only consisted of yourself. It is not stealing if you give the uniform back upon request, you tell yourself as you quietly creak open the door. As you make your escape, you turn to face the door as you close it, gently pulling it towards you and holding onto the doorknob to ensure that the noise of the door settling into place would be quiet as possible.
The last thing you wanted was for a drunken Kaeya to wake back up and force you to read him a bedtime story. As the door settles into place, you let out a sigh of relief, only to hear someone clear their throat behind you. Your eyes widen in humiliation and fear and your shoulders cringe upwards as you stare at the door in front of you. Scratch that, this was the last thing you wanted. Rather than let it become any more awkward, you let out a soft breath and settle your expression into your typical stoic one before whirling around to face your fate.
In this instance, your fate is for your eyes to meet the familiar crimson-hued ones that you had not seen in years. Dressed in an ornate, stealthy black and white outfit, the man looks far older than when you had last seen him, as if the last two years had been incredibly hard on him. You had no doubt that they were. You watch as his eyes widen in both recognition and surprise as you fix your posture. A flash of hurt crosses his expression before his expression mimics your own neutral one and the two of you simply stare at each other for a few moments, unsure of what to make of the conversation.
You notice Diluc’s claymore is strapped to his back and he has a fresh bruise forming on his cheekbone. You don’t dare ask what happened to him. It’s no longer your place to worry over him, but you can’t help it as his irises glimmer with sadness upon seeing you. Despite his neutral face, his eyes shine with emotion, as if he’s heartbroken to see you.
“Uh, hello, sir,” You greet, breaking the silence as you try to gather your composure. You offer him a salute, trying your best to keep your arm from shaking in both anxiety and exhaustion.
“Hello..” Diluc echoes absentmindedly, as if his mind is elsewhere. He quickly seems to recollect his bearings as his eyes scan you up and down. “Did you two have a fun night?”
His tone is unreadable and, if coming from anyone else, you would assume his words to be a joke. You let out a nervous laugh and Diluc’s eyebrows raise slightly at the uncharacteristic noise. A gut feeling tells you to choose your next words carefully. Upon your silence, Diluc’s eyes narrow slightly.
“You are wearing his garments. It does not take a genius to figure out what the two of you were doing together,” He explains, his voice devoid of emotion. A wave of heat rises to your cheeks and you are thankful for the low hallway lighting as it helps hide your embarrassment.
“Oh, um…” You trail off, breaking eye contact with the redhead as you look down at your outfit. “It’s not like that. He… he threw up on me.” Your words are unconvincing. Despite you knowing the truth, your nerves make it sound as if you’re pulling lies out of thin air to cover yourself. Diluc, of course, notices such a thing as he echoes your words.
“...He threw up on you?” The elder prince repeats, disbelief coating his words as he narrows his eyes at you.
“Yes, my prince,” You confirm. Diluc seems unsettled by your verbal formalities, but you carry on nonetheless. “He indulged in a few… too many drinks at Angel’s Share. As his subordinate, I felt as if it was in my duties to bring him back to the palace. He then proceeded to… release the contents of his stomach onto my uniform. If you do not believe my words, sir, you can… look at the uniform…” You hold out the balled up uniform in front of you and the stench alone is enough to make Prince Diluc’s nose scrunch up.
“I believe you, (Y/N).” He responds after a moment of contemplation. Diluc goes quiet once more, but you still stand at the ready, not having been dismissed from the conversation. “How… how often does this happen?”
Diluc’s gaze tears away from you. He looks nervous to be asking such a question. You’re not quite sure what he’s implying with his seemingly loaded question.
“If I may request for you to do so, could you please clarify your query, my prince?” You ask as his stoic expression returns and he stands up straight, having collected his thoughts.
“How often does Kaeya inconvenience you with his immature drunkenness?” Diluc asks, rubbing his hand over his jaw in exasperation. It’s unclear as to whether he’s exasperated with Kaeya or with you. Diluc’s eyebrows furrow in thought as he awaits your answer.
You think your answer over. Lying to the king-to-be definitely wouldn’t be ideal, but it would help Kaeya. You weren’t sure what was going on with Kaeya, but you knew he was hurting. The blue-haired boy you once knew would have turned his nose up at alcohol. Now, he was damaged enough to have turned to it as a coping mechanism. You are no fool; you see the way Kaeya cringes if there are too many candles lighting up the room each morning.
However, Diluc clearly cared enough about the situation to ask and a part of you was chanting to throw Kaeya under the bus for throwing up on you. You would just be issued another uniform and it was not as if you did not have a spare one in your closet. Plus, Kaeya’s problem was spiraling out of control.
“Once a week,” You answer. “Every Friday. Normally, the prince can make it back by himself, but I am typically relegated to being the sober official of the Knights of Favonius in fear that they’ll trash the place without any supervision.”
Diluc lets out a sigh. He turns around and begins to move back around. “I’ll see to it that such behavior of his is fixed. Dismissed.” The prince waves you off with a dismissive hand and you watch as he enters his chambers, the door closing softly behind him. In return, you walk out of the palace with your head held high, rather pleased with the way the conversation went considering the circumstances Diluc had found you in.
A small part of your heart twists at such an uneventful reunion, as if you had expected something more. You shake your head to try to eliminate such thoughts. You had merely been Prince Diluc’s subordinate, nothing more. Taking the compromising position Diluc had found you in, he had been more than fair to hear your explanation out and to even go so far as to offer to assist you with your troubles. It was your duty to serve the throne and not his duty to serve you, so why did part of you want more?
---
Diluc's definition of fixing Kaeya's behavior is, in fact, not to speak to kaeya about his behavior. Kaeya is none the wiser about his own actions as well, simply issuing a new uniform and a muttered apology about how you had to deal with his behavior. Unfortunately, you aren’t off the hook for the typical Friday night rendezvous at Angel’s Share. You begin to wonder if Diluc had forgotten his words to you as everything seems to be returning to normal. In fact, he probably didn’t care. He just said that to get you off his back, you tell yourself. It was probably too much of a nuisance to readjust Kaeya’s behavior, especially when Kaeya was so far up in the Ordo Favonius’s hierarchy of soldiers.
A visionless soldier like you was dispensable, but a strong prince with a cryo vision was not. Therefore, it only made sense for the Knights and Diluc to prioritize Kaeya’s comfort over your own.
The following Friday rolls around and you finally encounter your first change. As you arrive to early morning training, Kaeya tells you that the Acting Grand Master, Jean, wishes to speak with you. Having given up on Diluc enacting any possible changes to your regiment, you’re baffled as Jean hands you a set of new orders. Confusion is written on her face as well.
“You’re the only one with new orders,” Jean had told you. You weren’t sure if she was supposed to tell you that, but you figured she hoped you would have some explanation. “Especially orders as… odd as these.”
Her words make you actually read the piece of paper in your hands, rather than respectfully waiting until you left to do so.
“Oh,” The word tumbles out of your lips before you can stop it as you gape at the paper like a fish. You have been ordered, directly from the desk of King-to-be Diluc Ragnvindr, to return to the palace to be the elder prince’s royal bodyguard once more. You meet Jean’s expectant gaze with a look of confusion.
“If I may be so brave as to ask, do you know why you have been given such orders? Prince Diluc has been kind of… avoidant when it comes to the Knights as of late.” Jean asks. Her voice is kind like always, but you note a hint of curiosity within it. You can’t help her for being nosy.
“I was his bodyguard once before but..?” You shrug, not really knowing the answer. “He found me last week after Prince Kaeya threw up on me, but I doubt such a thing would have led to such a drastic change.”
Jean’s eyes light up in faint recognition and she softly smiles. “Oh, you were the bodyguard? That makes a bit more sense…” She trails off, lost in thought. “Hm, but such a rearrangement would only happen if he was preparing to… Never mind that, you said Prince Kaeya vomited? On you?”
You feel heat rise up to your cheeks as you nod. “Prince Kaeya is… not quite aware that he performed such… actions while intoxicated, so I would appreciate it if you could keep this a secret between us.”
The Acting Grand Master’s eyes shine with amusement and she lets out a soft, chime-like laugh. “Of course. Your secret is safe with me.”
You begin to walk out of Jean’s office, but freeze in your tracks. “I have one more question, if you don’t mind me asking,” You say. Jean nods for you to continue. “Why did Diluc choose me to be his bodyguard and not somebody with a vision?”
Jean lets out a melodic giggle, her blonde ponytail shaking as she does so. “I have my guesses, but I believe that’s only something the prince himself can answer.”
You nod in response, looking back down at your orders. “Thank you, Acting Grand Master.”
---
“You’re late,” A familiar voice admonishes you as you enter the throne room of the palace. It is a familiar room you had long since given up hope on ever seeing again, with gleaming gold and green accents adorning its stained glass windows. The room holds an intimidating yet freeing aura, but in your eyes, the most threatening thing in the ornate hall is not the gilded throne nor the massive marble statue of Barbatos, but rather Prince Diluc, who stands at the bottom of the steps that lead up to the throne.
Diluc adjusts his black gloves, ones you hadn’t seen him wear before, as he awaits for you to meet him in the center of the room. The click of your uniform’s boots against the tile and the soft clinking of your sheathed sword against your belt fills the room, reverberating through the open space as the sounds fill the silent void between you and Diluc.
“My apologies, my prince,” You state, bowing in respect. Diluc stares at you with an unreadable expression.
“You always were the type for formalities,” He muses almost wistfully, but catches himself and clears his throat. “Nonetheless, such impropriety will not be viewed upon well in the future.”
You stand up straight and salute him. “Understood, sir.”
Amusement dances in Diluc’s carmine irises as your gesture. “Welcome back, (Y/N).” He says, holding out a hand for you to shake. You shake his hand firmly, appreciative to see his amiability had not disappeared in your absence. As you drop his hand, Diluc seems to sense the unspoken question that rests on your tongue.
“There are no other Royal Knights yet. I do not trust any other knights to be capable of doing their jobs,” Diluc explains briefly before moving past you and out of the throne room, beckoning for you to follow. You fall in line alongside him, listening as he details your duties. For a moment, you’re seventeen and naive again, wondering what happened to the previous impression you had of the prince.
---
Two months pass and, in many ways, it's as if you had never left. Yet, the man you are designated to guard is more reserved with those around him, but the bluntness with his emotions remains. If Diluc isn’t happy with a situation, he’s not one to hide it, except for the sake of diplomacy. Despite not sharing blood with his brother, the two of them hold the same sadness in their shoulders when no one is watching, burdened by the secrets of the world. You stare at Diluc far more often than you do his younger brother, justifying such actions with your duties in an attempt to ignore the fact that you find the elder prince easy on the eyes.
Diluc looks at you too. When your duty is to observe, you tend to pick up on things quickly, especially the long glances Diluc sends your way when your attention is elsewhere. Your thoughts often consist of the secrets Kaeya had divulged to you in his drunken state, but you shove such nonsense out of your head. Kaeya had no place to speak on Diluc’s behalf and you determined that he was likely only projecting his own insecurities on Diluc. A selfish part of you still yearned for Kaeya’s words to be true each time you would notice the elder prince’s gaze to be upon you, but your duty prevailed over all. Unable to pinpoint why you felt this way, you would simply stare straight ahead, acting oblivious to Diluc’s gaze.
The distance between the two of you closes, both physically and emotionally. Diluc stays close enough to you that your elbows brush against each other while walking and you contribute such actions to Diluc being nervous after his father’s death. He’s much more touchy, reaching out to you with subtle gestures to make sure you’re near, rather than verbally reassuring your distance. If the two of you are outside the palace grounds and the prince is distracted by something, he’ll reach out to ensure that you’re still close.
If you aren’t nearby, Diluc will snap out of whatever daze he’s in and look around frantically for you, as if you had disappeared into thin air. The sheer panic in his eyes has taught you to stay close to him.
Diluc values your opinion. Previously, when he would have suffered in silence, the two of you have small conversations about issues he may be facing in his life, such as how to deal with a petulant Fontaine diplomat who doesn’t know how to take the word “no” as an answer. Diluc enjoys the new perspective you bring to the table, but he doesn’t let you in much farther. For his heaviest burdens, Diluc elects to keep to himself.
For that reason, you do not ask about his brother. You only provide your condolences on the day of his father’s death and make yourself available if he needs you.
---
Six months into your new appointment under Diluc, you finally gather the courage to ask a question you have desired to ask since your first day. You bite your lip slightly as you drop your gaze from guarding the door and instead flicker your gaze over to Diluc, who is sitting in a red velvet armchair by the crackling fireplace. The two of you are within the spacious area of his father’s study, soon to be his own, but such a room is still rather unfamiliar to you. The unknown territory of the room pushes you to move the unknown territory of the question you desire to ask.
“Um, sir?” You ask, uncharacteristically nervous. Diluc’s eyes immediately break away from the pages of his book, startled by you speaking. Normally, Diluc was the one to initiate conversation.
“Yes, (Y/N)?” He asks patiently and you feel heat rise to your face once more. Why are you flustered? you ask yourself as Diluc gazes at you intensely, awaiting your words with earnest.
“Apologies if I’m… overstepping by asking,” You begin and a flash of worry briefly crosses the prince’s face before he raises his eyebrows in intrigue. “But… why have you not ascended to the throne yet?”
The prince flushes a deep scarlet. He fumbles slightly with the book in his hands and looks down at it nervously. Such bashfulness is uncharacteristic of him, but then again, being so forthright was abnormal for you. Had you overstepped boundaries? Nervousness begins to claw at your stomach and climb up your throat, but the feelings are quickly quelled as Diluc clears his throat and smiles softly down at his book, trying to gather his bearings before responding.
The prince looks at you, but fails to make eye contact. “My father was a bit… peculiar in the guidelines I must follow in order to become king.” His fingers tap lightly on the cover of his book as he lets out a soft sigh, clearly unnerved by your question, but not wanting to make much of it. The prince is now twenty-three. Surely you could not have been the first person to ask him such a question?
“Oh,” You respond quickly. “I apologize if I overstepped any boundaries. Thank you for your answer, my prince.” A stoic expression quickly plasters itself on your face as you retreat back into yourself and Diluc’s eyebrows furrow at your reaction.
“It was not a bothersome question, just one I… had not been expecting, that’s all,” Diluc says, reading directly into the way you had closed yourself off. He notices the way your posture relaxes at such a statement and his eyes soften. “A few others are aware of the stipulations, so there is no such way I can circumvent them.”
“Ah,” You murmur before speaking once more. “Are the conditions to become king difficult?”
Diluc finally meets your eyes, a wistful look on his face. “They aren’t. I am just… not quite sure if the timing is right or how to broach the subject of them.” His voice is barely above a low rumble, but you hear him perfectly.
Your heart clenches at his words. You don’t know why.
---
Diluc’s twenty-fourth birthday rolls around and, when compared to every prior birthday of his in the past, the palace is ablaze with life. Mond’s economy had taken a slight downturn in its luxury goods market and Diluc had agreed to help bolster the industry by hosting a diplomatic birthday of sorts. Invite the richest people within Teyvat to explore Mondstadt and all its palace has to offer, conveniently place luxury goods within the vicinity, and the markets for said items are guaranteed to increase in demand. Diluc had explained all of this to you, including going in depth on the economics, and ordered you to put together a temporary unit of knights to serve as security at the party.
Such merriment and festivities would not lead to joy for you, but rather more work hours and stress. Assembling a team of competent enough fighters was difficult enough. Many within the Knights of Favonius were kind, but easily influenced, meaning that they were untrustworthy to leave within the realms of foreign dignitaries and prying eyes. Ultimately, you had settled on a trustworthy team of twenty core knights, all assigned to different positions within the ballroom. Some were framed as servers, some were framed as partygoers, and others would simply be required to wear their knight uniforms and guard the entrances and exits.
Despite security being a massive event, the biggest outlier was not the people who would be attending the party, but outsiders wishing to take advantage of such important people congregated in a single event. For that reason, all other knights were stationed within other parts of the palace and around its perimeter, in order to secure the area for the party. You weren’t too worried about the people inside as any foul moves would lead to massive geopolitical repercussions against any evildoers.
As for you, you were assigned to be Diluc’s right-hand knight, guarding his side at the party. While you were always ready to perform your assigned duty, you couldn’t help but wish you had door duty, as such a position would not require the diplomatic ass-kissing you were obligated to perform.
Now, as you stood at Diluc’s side near the center of the room, you weren’t sure what to make of the situation. The prince was effortlessly calming and smooth in his conversations with potentially hostile foreign dignitaries. Hell, he was even being respectful to the Fatui, even though you knew he likely wanted to ram his head through a wall speaking to the sleazy minions of the Tsaritsa.
What you hadn’t expected, however, were the wine trays floating throughout the room. You and Diluc were both aware to only take appetizers and drinks alike from a specific server, not wanting the elder prince or you, the head of security for the event, to have contaminated food. However, as Diluc drank his third glass of wine, you were beginning to wonder if you would be able to keep up. Finishing off your second, you smiled politely at the server and politely declined a second glass, ignoring the look of confusion Diluc sent your way. You already felt tipsy. The last thing you wanted was to be unable to do your job.
“Ah, Prince Diluc!” A vaguely familiar voice calls from behind you and Diluc the moment Diluc finishes speaking with a diplomat from Natlan. How do I know that voice? You ask yourself before feeling your thoughts swim a bit due to the alcohol. You silently cursed yourself for accepting the drinks at all, but when the first round of drinks had appeared, Diluc himself had taken one for you. How could you have said no to a request from your prince?
You and Diluc both turn around to see the intruder and you recognize him immediately. Dottore, one of the eleven Fatui Harbingers, stood before you and Diluc, a wide grin on his face. Immediately suppressing a groan and forcing your expression to stay neutral, you silently curse the fact that Harbingers made it on the guest list, especially one as irritating as Dottore. At his best, the man was an arrogant asshat. At his worst, Dottore was downright psychopathic with little regard for the people around him. You knew Diluc was aware of such things, but the prince had to stomach such disdain for the harbinger and at least attempt for a polite conversation.
“This is quite a lovely party,” Dottore compliments, but such praise from him is only worth about as far as you can throw it. “Mond is quite a prosperous nation.”
Your gaze flickers between Dottore and Diluc as they exchange meaningless pleasantries. You lose track of their conversation, electing to scan the room (and watch Dottore) for any potential threats or foul moves. However, you’re quickly snapped back to the conversation as Dottore’s attention turns to you, his masked red eyes boring into yours.
“You are the prince’s security detail?” Dottore’s words are less of a question and more of a statement, as if he already knows the answer. You avoid glancing at Diluc and instead meet Dottore’s gaze straight on and hold out your hand.
“Knight (Y/N), sir.” You respond and Dottore laughs crookedly while shaking your hand with a grip far too aggressive for your liking.
“Ah, aren’t you an… interesting specimen,” Much to your behest, Dottore takes your hand in his own gloved one and looks at it, as if he’s inspecting you. “You are his only personal knight at this event yet you are visionless… Quite an intriguing move for a prince who flaunts his so proudly.”
Your eyes instinctively move to look at Diluc, whose brows are furrowed and eyes glistening with anger at the situation unfolding. Diluc clears his throat and immediately returns his expression to one of neutrality as he realizes your gaze is now upon him. “Dottore, are you not one to believe that humanity is more than their visions?”
Dottore drops your hand unceremoniously and you quickly retract it to your side in fear that such an event happens again. He chuckles at Diluc’s words and turns to look at the prince once more. “Of course. I just simply never took you as the type to share my beliefs.”
Despite neither of them owning an Electro vision, the air between the two men crackles with energy. Dottore grins as Diluc glowers, eager to see if the refined prince’s composure shatters. The Harbinger knows he’s pinpointed Diluc’s weak spot, so rather than continuing the rather unamusing staring contest, Dottore’s gaze returns to you once more. He casts you a saccharine smile, dripping with insecurity, as he leans in close to you.
“I must believe you have some tricks up your sleeve. I look forward to seeing what they are,” The Harbinger’s tone drops to a low, sultry one as Dottore’s hot breath fans over your face, reeking of the odd combination of mint and wine. His words are not an expectation, but rather a promise. After a second more of leering at you, Dottore is sensible enough to realize Diluc’s limited patience is waning, so he takes a step back and stands up straight. “Nonetheless, I must make my exit now. Prince Diluc, as nice as it was to speak with you, I understand your wish not to share your toys.”
Just as quickly as he had appeared, the Harbinger disappears into the crowd. You look over at the prince standing near you. He takes a sidestep closer to you and for a split second, you’re reminded of the Prince Diluc you once knew, the one who could barely contain his anger and derision and took such feelings out on his subordinates verbally. The contempt Diluc feels for the situation that just unfolded is written all over his face, but he quickly gathers his composure. Knowing him well enough, you can sense the irritation radiating off him in waves, but you dare not comment on it.
Before another diplomat can intervene, Diluc leans in close to you, voice no more than a low whisper. “Dottore is up to something.”
---
Diluc, in his typical stubborn nature, refuses to let the Dottore situation go. Two hours afterwards, long after his mood had returned to normal, Diluc is excusing himself to use the bathroom, signaling for you to follow him. However, the elder prince remains silent as the two of you walk past the bathroom and into the chambers that had been converted to house foreign dignitaries who would stay the night and leave in the morning. The prince glances up and down the hallway frantically, making sure nobody is following. His pace is hurried, as if he’s looking for something.
You’re smart enough to realize Diluc’s only silent when he desires for others to be as well, but the two of you have been walking long enough that you part your lips to speak. Before you can utter the words, Diluc is opening the door closest to the two of you.
“Here,” He mutters and before you can follow, the prince grabs your arm and pulls you in after him, immediately letting you go afterwards. You were utterly baffled as to what room the two of you were even in, considering you had barely been in this part of the palace before. “Dottore’s room.” Diluc explains.
That’s a shitty explanation, you think. With the alcohol in your system, you are spurred to question his decisions, something you never would dare to do sober.
“With all due respect, sir, why are we raiding Dottore’s room?” You state as Diluc crouches down to look underneath Dottore’s bed. You silently question why that’s the first place the prince bothers looking, rather than looking in a more normal place, such as Dottore’s desk drawers or the suitcases lined against the wall.
Diluc lets out a huff of air at your words, but doesn’t admonish you for them. “He’s up to something,” Diluc mutters absentmindedly.
“I know he’s a suspicious character and he’s Fatui, but all he did was disrespect you with his words. Does that really mean he’s up to something?” You ask and Diluc pauses through rifling through the limited possessions the Harbinger had brought to Mondstadt. Still crouched down, the prince turns to look at you with an expression of confusion at your words.
“You aren’t normally like this,” Diluc states plainly and you feel your face heat up in embarrassment. He squints his eyes in an attempt to read your stoic expression in the dark. He lets out a sigh, unable to come to a conclusion, and returns back to looking through Dottore’s stuff. “He was clearly challenging me. He’s hiding something and wants me to find it.”
With Diluc’s back turned to you, you roll your eyes. Why are men always like this?
“Maybe he was just flirting,” You suggest, your tone annoyed.
“I was n-” Diluc pauses and clears his throat. “I mean, he was not flirting with you.” He sounds outraged that you would even discuss such a thing.
“Sir, his words had that weird kind of aura to them. With all due respect, I believe I’m not ugly enough that he wouldn’t flirt with me. He just sounded kind of horny,” You say, as if such a thing should be obvious. Diluc freezes completely and stands up, turning to look at you. His eyes are blown wide at your words and, in your alcoholic stupor, you’re unaware of the egregious unprofessionalism of your words. The prince steps closer to you, his crimson gaze boring into yours.
“Archons,” He mutters after a few seconds. “They didn’t serve you grape juice, did they?”
“Nope,” You respond in a gleeful voice, popping your mouth at the end of the word. “Were they supposed to?” You ask cluelessly, leaning on the wall behind you.
Diluc lets out a frustrated huff, but it doesn’t seem directed at you. “Barbatos, they had one job,” He mutters to himself before walking over to Dottore’s desk and bending over to look at the contents of the desk drawers. “Anyways, just watch the door. That’s an order.”
Even in your tipsiness, you are aware enough to sense Diluc’s frustration at the situation, so you bite your tongue and watch the door. Your gaze flutters between the elder prince and the door, unable to focus on your assigned duty as the alcohol swirls through your system. The elder prince’s noisy actions of rifling through files draws your attention and you look over at him, eyebrows raised. However, what catches your attention is a glint of white in his back pocket.
“What’s in your pocket?” You ask, causing Diluc to let out a frustrated huff.
“I said to watch the door,” Diluc reminds you in a harsh tone, but by now, you know the prince is all bark and no bite.
“I have two eyes,” You respond combatively. Diluc sighs, knowing this is a fight he won’t win. “One to watch you and one to watch the door.”
“That is quite literally not how vision works, (Y/N),” Diluc tries to explain, but knows there’s no reasoning with alcohol. He’s encountered his brother enough times after his drunken escapades to know when to give up. “Just… use both to watch the door.”
“Tell me what’s in your pocket and I will,” Your words are dangerous and if Diluc wasn’t fond of you, he could easily have thrown you in prison for saying such things.
“We’re done in here,” Diluc states after a few moments of ignoring you, placing the final file back into its rightful position and dusting himself off. He walks over to you and pulls the white object out of his pocket, holding it out to you. “It’s a mask, by the way.”
“Okay,” You say, taking the mask in your hand. You’re not far enough gone to try putting it on, so you simply slip it into your own pocket. “What’s in the other pocket, then, sir?” You ask, a sly smirk appearing on your face. Diluc flusters at your mischievous expression as he brushes past you to exit the room.
“Nothing.” He responds, but you know otherwise. As the two of you exit into the hallway, you take advantage of the fact that the prince had exited Dottore’s room before you and you quickly snatch the object in his other pocket. You had only seen the outline of it, but now that it rests in your hands, you’re utterly baffled as to why he would hide such a thing.
“What is this?” You ask, holding the object away from Diluc as he whirls around, trying to grab the object from your hand.
“Stop acting like a child, (Y/N),” Diluc warns, but there’s a faint desperation in his voice. “It’s my Vision.”
“This isn’t your Vision,” You state, staring at him with furrowed brows. “Your Vision looks different from this.”
Before you can theorize any more about what the faux-Vision in your hands is, Diluc opens the door closest to the two of you and pulls you in rather roughly by the arm. You only tighten your grip on the object in response.
“Could you be any louder, (Y/N)? Barbatos, it’s just a Vision, but it’s not mine. Give it back.” Diluc orders, but you simply smirk at him as the two of you stand in the dark of the supply closet he had cornered you in. The light filtering from underneath the door allows him to barely see your expression, despite the overall darkness of the room. His hand fumbles against the wall before the room is lit in a soft orange light as his hand finds an unlit candle near the door.
“Hm,” You say upon seeing his glowering expression. He looks absolutely furious, but for once you aren’t living in fear of such an expression. In fact, he looks rather delicio- “Make me, Diluc.” The words tumble out of your lips, sultry and sweet, before you can even finish processing your own thoughts. Right now, for once in your life, you have the chance to make Prince Diluc beg and you are relishing in the moment, in all of its unprofessional glory.
Diluc’s eyes flash with anger and as he angrily grips your wrist and shoves you back into the shelf behind you. The wood juts into your back and you let out a soft cry of both surprise and pain as objects begin to clatter off the shelf around the two of you. Taking advantage of your surprise at his forcefulness, Diluc manages to wrangle the object out of your hand and he fastens it securely in within his breast pocket, away from your prying, tipsy hands. As Diluc’s harsh grip on your wrist fails to falter, you feel tears bubble up in your eyes, unable to hold them back. Okay, maybe you had more than two drinks, you tell yourself.
Before you can stop them, more words are spilling out of your mouth, but they’re no longer the empowered ones you wish you could say.
“I do everything for you,” you blubber pathetically and watch as Diluc’s eyes widen at your tone. “And the one time i want something in return, just to know something about you, you’re mean to me.” Before you can stop them, you’ve activated the waterworks, tears freefalling down your cheeks. The only word to describe Diluc’s expression is terrified.
“N... no, don’t cry.” Diluc’s grip on your wrist loosens, but he still holds it close, his other free arm pulling you in by your waist into a comforting hug. His gestures and words are stiff as if he’s not sure how to do this. You’re fairly sure the two of you are breaking each and every code of conduct at this moment, but for now, you don’t care. His hand rubs the small of your back in a comforting motion, his thumb trailing up and down the part of your wrist that he likely bruised. “You’re my best knight, the only one I can trust, it’s… okay. Please don’t cry.”
The prince’s words are frantic and softly spoken, as if he’s trying his best to pull compliments out of thin air to stop your tears. Despite him not being very good at comforting you, your sobs start to subside into small hiccups as you bury your head into the spot between his shoulder and neck. You feel him stiffen at the gesture. Nonetheless, he pulls you into a tighter one armed hug.
After you manage to get your tipsy tears under control, you let out a shaky sigh before continuing with your words. “Why do you never let me in? I swore my life to protect you. I’d do anything for you. but you just shut me out every time,” You whisper, voice still stained with the tears you had just cried out. In the morning, you’d be mortified with your words, but for now, you brain is encouraging you to continue. Diluc pulls away from you and cups his hands on the side of your face, using his thumbs to wipe away your tear stains.
“You’re too valuable to waste your tears on someone like me.” Diluc mutters as the pads of his fingers soak up the salty tears. His tone is saddened from your actions.
“Answer the question, Diluc, please,” you beg, dropping the honorifics once more. You stare into his eyes, searching for an answer. You watch him inhale, as if he’s trying to muster up the courage to say something.
“Okay,” He breathes, eyes looking into yours for reassurance. “Okay.” His voice is more resolute as he repeats the words. “I don’t know how to keep you close without making you uncomfortable. I don’t know how much I should let you in without scaring you off. I feel this way because for the last six years, I’ve been in-”
Before he can finish his words, the door to the supply closet swings open. The bright light causes the both of you to flinch as a third voice gasps dramatically. You blink rapidly, trying to adjust your eyes to the bright lights from the hallway in order to understand what’s happening, your hand reaching up to the hilt of your sword.
“My, my, what a scandalous sight,” the voice (Dottore, you identify) croons and the two of you look on in mortification. “A prince and his knight having an illicit rendezvous in the janitorial closet.”
The two of you look out to see a small crowd of five people having gathered -- Dottore, his assistant, Kaeya, Jean, and another Fatui agent. You’re not sure why they’re all gathered outside, but what matters is that they’re now viewing you after having been caught in a broom closet with the king-to-be’s hands cupping your face and him staring into your eyes.
Fuck, you think as Diluc’s hands rescind from your face quickly, as if the water of your tears had scalded him.
#diluc x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact headcanons#diluc headcanons#diluc scenarios#genshin impact scenarios#diluc#genshin impact#*writing#*inheritance#*diluc#*fic#AAAAAAAAAAAAA ITS HERE
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