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#red skies vanish
nunnimushka · 15 days
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TODAY
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dimepdf · 1 year
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𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒. + 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
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masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. you're tired of having to put up with your spoiled brat of a boyfriend, finally snapping at him readying to throw away being the ornament in his rich lifestyle until Toji shows you that not all Fushiguro men aren't giving. 
pairing. toji fushiguro x reader , megumi fushiguro x reader
genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, pwp, porn with plot, cheating au, hurt/comfort (?), dilf!Toji, jealousy, insecurity, toxic relationship, spoiled rich, eat the rich, age gap, size difference, height difference, biting, rough sex, man handling, pet names, daddy kink | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍
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Maybe it was shallow, staying in your almost four year long relationship while hanging onto that string of hope that maybe—just maybe—Megumi would wake from his stubborn, stuck-up, rich boy era and realize that you had truly stuck with him through thick and thin.
The first year of your relationship was all clear skies and cruising: being college sweethearts in love. 
It was normal for you two to go through a few rough patches, and trying to figure out how to fit into each other's new adult lives was just even more difficult.
Well, apparently to the billionaire playboy, who has so much free time to party but not spend quality time with his girlfriend, but you promised to look past that! 
The third-year mark hit, and you were just a girl willing to turn a new leaf and push aside all the insults your best friends would say under their breath about your man and just stick it out because you really did love Megumi, and that included all of his faults.
Including the times he'd make snobbish comments when you mentioned how you hadn't heard of a certain expensive food name, and how he'd seemingly vanish from the face of the earth, ignoring all of your texts and calls for weeks, only to show up on Instagram posting about being on some party cruise ship with all of his friends. 
Recounting the many times When you two did spend time together, he was too busy on his PS4 ignoring your advances for sex. 
Trying to break the month-long dry spell you were in, only getting some action if you fell to your knees and gave him a blowjob so he could completely disregard your needs after returning to his game. 
But tonight was the final nail in the coffin.
When Toji invited his son and you to one of his opening events weeks in advance. 
You gladly accepted and congratulated him on his hard work as a hot ass bachelor and CEO stacking up wealth as well as being a father to the bratty muck of a son like it was nothing. 
You were genuinely proud of the older man for juggling his business life with such ease. 
Megumi didn't seem to have the same idea, despite being entirely built up in the wealth of position that he had now because he had been simply handed a high position in the same field as his father. 
You’d think that maybe he would have just a moderate amount of respect for his father, but unfortunately, that bar you had set was just too high for Megumi’s stuck-up personality.
Throwing a tantrum the entire time you two were getting ready for the event, it was made even more embarrassing by the fact that the Fushiguro men shared the same luxury mansion. 
With the left wing dedicated entirely to Megumi's egocentric lifestyle and his pathetic rabble about how stupid and lame the "party" was going to be bouncing off the cold marble walls, no doubt reaching Toji on the other side of the home. 
You had managed to lighten his mood by suggesting that he drive one of his annoyingly loud and brightly colored sports cars to the event.
the one that was so low that you would grunt every time you slid into the passenger's seat. 
It wasn’t exactly comparable with the dark red slip dress that you were wearing, but you were willing to make a couple of sacrifices for Toji’s honor.
The event had started exactly as you had expected it to: on the red carpet, lined with celebrity guests, with higher-ups posing for pictures with the crowds of fans and paparazzi behind the dividers, shouting directions and names.
Being in the spotlight was still a little new to you, being thrust into the rich lifestyle took longer to get used to. 
Especially when you had a boyfriend that loved to soak up as much attention as he possibly could.
That's why you shouldn't be surprised when Megumi gets out of his car, shoves the keys into the young valet's hand with a snide remark. 
Glides past you, waves to all the paparazzi shouting his name, and welcomes the flashing lights with open arms. 
Watching him walk down the carpet with his cookie-cutter poses and disappear inside the building leaves you trailing behind him like a lost puppy.
It took you an hour to find him through the crowd of people, tucked away in some inclusive section with people that flocked to him as if he were a goddess. 
It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but it was just one person who had caught your eye, and he was completely distracted by another woman. 
Whatever they were chatting about was enough to have him smiling quite genuinely—the smile that you hadn’t seen since the first few months of your relationship—the months you were convinced that Megumi cared about you and wasn’t using you as some perfect purse dog girlfriend for the media
You could only watch as she had gotten too comfortable, her hand resting on the front of Megumi's chest as he would lean down just to whisper something that she would find too fucking funny.
Completely immersed in the conversation that they had together enough to not be noticed for a while as the two chuckled to each other. 
What makes it worse is that she was the first to notice you standing aside, her hand unmoving as she gave you a tight smile.
Megumi follows her stare, his expression falling just before he could catch it drawing you to his side. "Baby, there you are. I was looking for you all night," liar, but you still smile at his greeting. "___ this is Nobara, my friend from high school, she was the one to save my ass from failing every class."
"Meggy, you make it sound like we were just friends of my god." Nobara’s laugh had a high pitch to it, her smile never dropping as she playfully swung her hand at his shoulder, letting the hand rest there for a moment too long.
You keep it classy: "It's so nice to finally meet you. I don't think I’ve ever heard my boyfriend talk about you much, but then again, he had a lot of friends." Despite her open flirting with Megumi as if you weren't standing in front of her. 
You weren't really in the mood to start a catfight, especially with so many eyes around.
"Wait a minute, Megumi, you finally got someone to tie you down, that's so unexpected!" She gasps, trying to entice something out of you, but you don’t bite the bait even when Megumi laughs loudly like he couldn't believe it himself.
"I know, I know, you won’t believe how many other people are also surprised." His callous response explains why people assumed he was single. 
"I mean, gosh, you were just the school's famous playboy. I swear you told me that you preferred to just sleep around when I first asked you out." Her eyes trail down your dress, taking in your entire outfit. 
"Look at you now, in a relationship with someone so... humble." She giggles, your fist knotting into the silk material of your dress as you suddenly become the subject of a joke that even Megumi has failed to stifle a laugh at.
"Some people can’t always be fixed," he continues, reaching his finger out to one of the drink staff and signaling a drink over. "But she's a looker; when she really wants to be, that's all that really matters."
Nobara laughs as your expression slowly drops, feeling like an ornament out of place. It wasn't uncommon for Megumi to give you backhanded compliments, but that didn't mean that it had hurt any less than the many other times he would downplay your attractiveness.
It doesn't even bother you that he doesn't even pretend like he cares that he had hurt your feelings, your face fell into a bored glare now that all the had ridden from your mood as their conversation continues. 
You entertain yourself with more glasses of champagne being handed out by the staff, ignoring the sideways glances you would get from Megumi after watching you down every drink. 
Any politeness you had felt was washed away with the warm tipsy buzz tasting on your tongue. 
It wasn't enough to have you fully drunk though the last thing you wanted to do was unleash that side of you in such a professional place. 
She boasted about taking an early flight to Paris the following morning for some modeling opportunity, which the more she talked about, the less you cared. 
Like a prayer had decided it was time for her to veer away for the night, letting Megumi kiss the knuckle of her hand before leaving.
You could see the scowl on his face forming the moment she finally leaves you to let out a tired sigh, rolling your eyes as Megumi turns to glare down at you for whatever made-up shit reasons he was going to force the blame on you for. 
"You could have been a lot nicer, you know," you hum in a gesture showing him that you didn't really care but chose to agree anyway.
"You don't see me acting like a bitch to any of your friends. Nobara is the most giving person I’ve ever known, maybe you could start taking notes from her instead of acting like you're better than everyone for once.'' The statement makes you laugh, the type of laugh that has your hand coming up to cover your face as you let out a snort. 
It only catches a few people's attention, but they return back to their conversation without much comment.
And that's how the conversation ends because you just walk away, using your hand to hold a wine glass in his hand before returning to the thick of the crowd of people, leaving Megumi fuming in his circle of friends.
This night was about congratulating Toji for all of his achievements, and you weren't going to take anything away from that because of his spoiled asshole son.
So you divide your attention elsewhere, mingling with others as best as you possibly can all the way until the end.
The drive home was dead silent, possibly since Megumi never allowed you to control the radio while he was driving, let alone roll up your window.
You could only smile to yourself, knowing he was just so unhappy from the way he gripped his wheel in angry glances that he would give you to let you know that he was angry, ignored as you leaned your head against the window and watched the scenery pass by. 
He doesn't stop, not even bothering to wait for you as he slams the car door shut and stomps his way to the bedroom. 
You can only sigh as you slowly follow him, bracing yourself for whatever earful he's bound to give you. 
The argument would always lead to him crying and shouting, Megumi just had the patience of a toddler who would blow up when he couldn't get anything that he wanted.
He was used to living his life with a silver spoon in his mouth and was too wrapped up in his own picture-perfect world to realize that other people around him were truly hurting.
You had gotten used to letting him blow some steam, calling you names, degrading your morals, and downplaying all of your insecurities, it was all just a loop. 
The same things he'd say over and over, knowing they'd elicit some sort of reaction from you. 
So you walked out. 
Not literally, since you two had lived together and an Uber ride to the closest hotel would have been at least $100 bucks tops—fucking California—you just walked to one of many guest bedrooms that were on the other side of the house.
Kicking off your heels as they clacked against the cold marble floors, the one thing on your mind was how much you just wanted the day to end.
"Oh hey, ___, I was just looking for you." You had caught sight of Toji closing the front door, losing his gray tie with the other hand as he was dressed in a dark suit.
The older man looked incredibly handsome even when he wasn't all dressed up. 
You were convinced there was something in the Fushiguro gene that just made every single one of them attractive.
"Me?" was all that you could manage, realizing that maybe you should've held back just a little on the champagne.
All of your compliments are thrown out the window at the mere sight of the self-made businessman.
You pretend not to notice him checking you out, shifting your weight to try to stop yourself from pressing your thoughts together as he advances closer to you.
"I was surprised you didn't say anything to me at the mixer," he grins, wrapping his muscly arm around your waist and leading you to the kitchen. 
"You know how much I despise those things, and I was hoping you'd come to keep me company," he teased, his head leaning on top of yours as he pouted. 
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr.Fushiguro, I was just so tired from meeting everyone. I think I should actually end up in bed now." You mutter the last part, stopping in your tracks and taking a step back to shake yourself from his grasp.
Toji hesitates for a second, his eyes glancing over to the hallway that leads to his son's bedroom before turning back to you. 
"How about you make up for the lost time?" He smiles, leaning in closer.
You couldn't fully recall what had happened to lead up to the moment, but before you knew it, you were all spread out with your chest resting against the kitchen island.
Standing on the tips of your toes as your hands were held pressed against your spine by Toji’s palm.
Hiccuping on pleas as his hand rested itself against the curve of your ass as his hips smacked roughly against your ass. 
Watching the hilt of his dick disappear inside of your pussy burying himself inside of your stomach as you squirmed from the full feeling. 
Your dress had been ruined by the wet stains on the fabric as well as the huge tear that ran up your side when Toji tore it in frustration trying to get it past your hips. 
"You look even better without it anyway," he apologized before biting into your shoulder before you could respond.
"Ah, ah, not too loud, pretty girl." His gravelly voice cooed in your ear. 
A whimper slipped out of you, catching your breath for just a moment before his hands could turn you around.
Pushing you against the edge of the counter just to get better leverage to grab the back of your thighs.
Picking you up with ease, your legs wrapped around his waist as your arms knotted around his neck, straddling his torso as he lifted you enough for his tip to press against you and his lower stomach.
Lifting you with just one arm in to position himself back inside of you, the action leaving you gasping in pleasure as he bounced you on his cock. 
The weight of you fell, only burying the width of him to reach deeper parts of your body. Once he had gotten a good grasp around your legs, his pace was merciless.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the kitchen as you buried your face in the crook of his neck to keep yourself from completely melting in his hold. 
As your orgasm left you whining out his name, his hips piston inside of you through it.
Toji had caught you from falling back as he laid you against the kitchen counter, your back resting against the cold marbles as your chest rose and fell.
"You’ve never been fucked by a real man before, have you princess?" He sighs, spreading your thighs apart, before shoving back inside, your hips bucking against the bud of his thumb as it rubbed circles against your clit. 
“Just lay back and let daddy show you how a real man should cherish you.” 
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thirteenducks · 6 months
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smoke and wine
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(diluc x fem!reader) [suggestive, but SFW]
༻❁༺ content: fem!reader (reader wears a dress and is referred to as 'her'), some suggestive content, no established relationship
༻❁༺ word count: ~4.7k
༻❁༺ tags: self indulgent stormfic, adelinde best mother figure AND wingwoman, flustered diluc supremacy, reader does not want to cause trouble for diluc, diluc desperately wants reader to cause trouble for him, diluc wears boxer briefs because i said so, rampant use of ellipses
༻❁༺ author's note: i am back to offer you this with my hands outstretched before i vanish into the void for another six months :/ regardless, thank you for reading! <33 this fic was inspired by this lovely art by @mmmairon https://www.tumblr.com/mmmairon/733185437964926976/hi-mairon-i-love-the-self-insert-comfort-you-did?source=share please go check it out!
Diluc is a simple man. If there's something he can provide, he'll go out of his way to do it. And if that means allowing you to stay at his home for the night during a fierce storm, he'll do anything to ensure your comfort.
Before today, you had considered yourself rather proficient in predicting the weather for your forays into the Mondstadt hills. Experience had given you somewhat of a sixth sense for which afternoons would yield sunny skies and which would leave you huddled under a tree during a downpour.
This storm, however, had truly come out of nowhere. 
When your feet finally find the steps of the vineyard path ahead of you, you’re already too drenched to bother running from the rain. Your shoes, unfit for travel through the rain-soaked countryside, leave puddles behind everywhere you step; your dress is so soaked through that it must leave nothing to the imagination. 
You shiver, thanking Barbatos that you seem to be the only unfortunate traveler caught in this downpour. At least the grates of the grapevines above you give you some form of cover from the lashing sheets of rain.
Through the raindrops in your eyes, you gaze at the herbs in your basket, their delicate leaves sodden and dripping. Once the storm has passed, and you've returned home, you doubt they will be much worth keeping. So much for freshly-gathered, you lament.
Distracted by your mournful predictions, you hardly notice the dirt beneath your feet has turned to stone and you’re suddenly before the imposing building that dominates the landscape. Above you, lanterns on posts swing wildly in the wind, illuminating the grand wooden door of Dawn Winery.
As you huddle beneath the scant protection of the balcony above, poised to knock, you’re inevitably reminded of the only other time you’d encountered the owner of this estate. 
In the many months since, you’d learned which places to avoid in the Mondstadt countryside due to high monster traffic. That morning, however, the abyss mage had appeared out of nowhere in the sunny meadow of sweet flowers, leering at you and your lack of a weapon. You had barely gathered the presence of mind to drop what you were holding and run when the noise of boots, fast approaching, came from behind you. In another second, a blur of red and black had sped by and a gloved hand was pushing you down to the ground. Overhead, a blast of ice meant for your heart had split the sky above you instead.
Before you could regain your wits, the horrible sound of what you could only imagine were the monster’s last words tore through the air and flames, red and deep orange, surrounded you. The blue of the sky above you was ringed with fire.
Pushing yourself up by your elbows, you had scrambled to your feet, fear shooting through you like lightning as the flames licked higher and hotter around your boots -
And then they were gone, extinguished in an instant. Your breaths coming fast and shallow, you had inspected yourself for injuries and found nothing amiss but a few singed pieces of hair.
The gloved hand had appeared again in your field of vision, hovering hesitantly near your shoulder. 
“Are you alright? That attack didn’t hit you, did it?”
The voice was low and unfamiliar, and you had followed the sound until your eyes caught a mane of red hair in a sea of black. He smelled like smoke; you could see it emanating off the massive sword he held in his other hand.
“I’m not hurt, thank you. I had no idea this area wasn’t safe...” You murmured, gazing at the now-scorched patch of flowers you had stood so peacefully in a moment before. “I’m so sorry for the trouble, sir.” You offered your hand and name in introduction, and he had taken both with a gentle grace. His questioning eyes alighted on your belongings, dress, and hair before returning to your face.
“Please, call me Diluc. Of Dawn Winery,” he answers, anticipating your question.  “I’m the one who should apologize. This one -” he glances down at the ground in distaste, where a few shining leaves are all that is left of the abyss mage - “got away from me last night, and I’ve been chasing it down ever since. Really, it’s my fault.”
You duck your head in gratitude. “Thank you regardless, Diluc. I’ll make sure to avoid this area in the future...” You trail off sadly. This had been the best hill in the area to collect sweet flowers...
His face had changed a bit at your vow, so quickly you might have imagined it, before his handsome features returned to an unreadable expression. The exchange had not lasted long past that point. 
“Keep yourself safe,” were his brief parting words, leaving you with a nod before starting at a brisk pace toward the building in the distance.
And now that same building is before you once more. Drawing your bag closer to you in trepidation, you knock, the sound barely reaching your ears over the roar of thunder overhead.
You don’t have to wait long in the harsh wind before the giant door swings open and you’re face to face with the same man from all those months ago, staring at you with his mouth slightly parted. You blink at each other for a few moments, unsure of what to say, until a woman’s soft voice calls from behind him in the doorway.
“Master Diluc? Is there someone out there?”
A middle-aged woman with a kind expression peers over Diluc’s shoulder at you and gasps. 
“Master Diluc! What are you doing, keeping her out here in all this rain?” she chides, pushing Diluc’s shoulder to punctuate her sentence, and he blinks as if coming out of a trance. He steps out of the doorway and allows the woman to grab you gently by the hand and lead you into the warm, carpeted foyer. The great door swings shut behind you with a soft thud and you allow yourself an exhale of relief at being out of the storm, if only for a few minutes.
“Goodness, you’re soaked through.” The woman, who wears a maid’s uniform, putters around you, taking your belongings from your grasp and hanging them on a stand next to the door. As she circles you, murmuring with concern, you take the opportunity to explain yourself.
“I’m so sorry to intrude, ma’am, I was just gathering herbs near Stone Gate when the downpour started...” You lock eyes with Diluc, who has not said a word yet. Your resolve wavers, but a drop of water cascading down your back causes you to shiver and you remember your situation. “If it’s not too much trouble, could I impose upon you until the worst of the storm passes?” Your teeth chatter a bit as a draft catches your soaked clothing. “I promise I won’t make too much trouble for -”
You’re cut off by the sensation of something large and warm surrounding you. It smells of smoke and wine and you look up in surprise to see Diluc, now bare to the arm, settling his overcoat on your shoulders. A light shade of pink dusts his cheekbones.
“This storm isn’t likely to pass before tomorrow morning at the earliest,” he rumbles, avoiding your eyes. “Adelinde, please tell Moco and Hillie to prepare a bath and fresh sheets in the downstairs guest room.” 
The warm timbre of his voice is tinged with something you can’t identify. Before you can protest, the woman, who must be Adelinde, gives him a nod. She curtsies to you with a smile and takes her leave.
Now standing alone with Diluc, you hurriedly voice your objections and promise to be on your way after you dry off a bit and perhaps borrow an umbrella. The man in front of you, however, refuses to acquiesce.
“You’ll at least let Adelinde feed you dinner, won’t you? It’s quite late already,” he remarks, glancing out the bay window at the darkened sky. “Have you eaten?”
At your dissenting response, he nods as if all is settled. You stare down at your shoes in mingled embarrassment and relief, watching the pools of water sink into the rich carpet. 
Diluc clears his throat and moves his hand to hover behind the small of your back as he walks towards the fireplace. “Please, wait here for Adelinde to return. I’ll speak to her about getting you some dry clothes to wear for the night,” he says, gesturing to the couch in front of the fire.
You grimace as you sit, the damp fabric of your dress sticking to you and probably ruining the plush velvet of the sofa. Not to mention Diluc’s coat...
Before you can dwell too long on that, Adelinde reappears with a steaming cup of tea that she sets in front of you. She appears to be in conversation with Diluc about something across the table as you sip your tea, feeling the warmth of the fire seep into your bones.
“It’s awful luck that everything had to be taken in from the clotheslines when it started to rain,” she sighs. “There’s not a dry piece of women’s clothing in the house, I’m afraid.”
Diluc hums in contemplation. “I suppose mine will have to do, then. As long as it wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, of course...” He trails off as he turns to you, his cheeks pink again.
You laugh a bit, good humor returning to your body as the warmth does. “I’ll take any clothing you have to offer, Adelinde. Truly, thank you.”
She smiles, and before you can say anything else, Diluc has gotten to his feet and is already halfway up the stairs. Your eyes follow him as he goes, afraid you’ve said something wrong, but Adelinde just laughs and gestures for you to stand.
“Don’t mind him. The young master’s always that straightforward. Let’s get you into a warm bath, hm?” She starts for the hallway at a brisk pace, ignoring your concerns about the water you’re tracking across the floor.
As the head maid leads you to the guest room, Diluc stands in his own quarters, staring at his bureau with a look of deliberation that a complex military maneuver might inspire. All around him, various pieces of clothing lay rejected. He’s glaring daggers at his pants drawer, which he now realizes contains only neatly folded black slacks and pairs of underwear.
Do I really only wear slacks and boxer briefs?
That’s a question for another day. For now, he lays out his options.
He can’t... he can’t offer you his underwear to wear. That’s out of the question. Few things could be less appropriate to lend to a guest, let alone a pretty... 
He shakes his head. His face is burning just thinking about it.
But wouldn’t you be uncomfortable in dress pants? They’d hardly fit you, anyways, so you might have to wear a belt as well just to keep them up... And could you really sleep in them? You’d probably end up shedding them, right?
He shakes his head again before he can go any further with that... dangerous thought.
He huffs. This is going nowhere. He’ll have to bring them both to Adelinde and see what she has to say, he thinks as he descends the staircase with a stack of clothes in hand.
Meanwhile, you stand with Adelinde in the most lavish guest bedroom you’ve ever set foot in. The bedspread, softer than a lamb as you run your hand over it, matches the curtains of the four-poster bed it rests on and the wall behind it. She opens the door to the attached bathroom, where a steaming claw-foot tub stands in the center. The aroma coming from it is like that of the lampgrass you had been collecting that afternoon before the storm hit, and it draws you to it like a moth to flame.
Adelinde curtsies to you and asks you to simply leave your wet clothes by the door and she’ll send someone to pick them up and deliver dry clothes in a bit. With that, she shuts the bedroom door behind you and leaves you to disrobe in the sweet-smelling bathroom.
After so long with your soaked garments clinging to you, peeling them off feels incredible. The water is the perfect temperature as you slide into it, feeling the stress of the afternoon melt away from your shoulders. The soaps next to the bath are thick and luxurious, perfuming the air with a thousand faint floral scents.
You don’t know how long you sit there, half-awake and submerged to the nose in the sweet-smelling water, until a knock at the bedroom door brings you back to reality.
Thinking it to be Adelinde or another maid, you straighten up and stretch your arms. You’d rather not get up and let her in yourself, so you merely call out your permission to let herself in. After all, the water’s so nice, and you don’t have anything to cover yourself with but a towel, anyways. 
The door opens quietly and a heavy step can be heard entering the bedroom and shuffling around a bit until it suddenly pauses. 
That’s odd. “Adelinde?” you call, rising a bit in the water to peek into the bedroom through the open door. No answer comes.
Furrowing your brow, you move to get out of the tub when the panicked voice of a man rings through the room.
“Wait! Wait, please... Archons, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you were - the door is - ”
It’s Diluc. He sounds more flustered than you thought was possible of such a stoic man.
“I just came to drop these off,” he continues, voice discomposed, and there’s a sound of something being placed on a chair. “Please forget this happened. I- I apologize a thousand times. I’ll, um, wait outside - please, forgive me... I’m leaving now, I swear.” 
And with that, the bedroom door closes with a thunk. You’re left frozen, your hands on the rim of the tub, your face a fetching shade of scarlet.
Diluc, on the opposite side of the door, is in no better shape. Not only had he walked in on you while you were- not only had he imposed upon you, but he had completely forgotten his objective of having Adelinde choose your clothing. Which meant, of course, that you were about to walk out of the bath and be faced with an odd selection of things to clothe yourself with.
It’s not like he can go back in and tell you it’s a mistake, though. Diluc sighs and rakes a hand through his hair, willing his heart rate to go down. Idiot. He’s an idiot.
Since the least he can do now is protect you from any further embarrassment, he thinks, he takes up a guard position outside your bedroom door.
It helps to know that at least it’s just him and the maids in the house, so you have no one else to worry about. It doesn’t help to know that you’re currently bare and covered in soap a scant twenty feet from him.
He buries his head in his hands again.
Meanwhile, you’ve removed yourself from the tub and are drying off while waiting for your pulse to return to normal. The towel in your hands is probably the fluffiest thing you’ve ever touched, yet it barely registers in your mind at the moment.
You weigh the ethics of telling Adelinde you’ve suddenly fallen violently ill and cannot come to dinner, but eventually you’ve gathered yourself enough to inspect the clothing Diluc brought you. There’s a black dress shirt, which is softer against your skin than it first looked as you button it up to your collarbone. Like his coat, it too carried a familiar fragrance of smoke and wine.
Turning to the rest of the stack, you’re confused to see a pair of dress pants and a pair of men’s... underwear?
They also smell like him… you think, as you pull them on.
Diluc, still fighting a blush, is leaning against the wall outside your door when Adelinde finds him. A hurried conversation ensues that you don’t catch much of from inside, but it’s clear enough that Adelinde is laughing at her master’s expense. 
She knocks, asking if you’re dressed, and waits for your affirmation before she enters. You hold up the slacks to her, a question on your lips, but the head maid puts her hand on yours before you say a word.
“You don’t have to wear those unless you want to. I know they’re far from the most comfortable pants in the world. Besides, it’s only Master Diluc and us maids here,” she assures you. “You have nothing to worry about, dear. It’s up to you.” You return her smile and fold the slacks, passing them to her waiting hand. “Why don’t you come sit by the fire while I set the table?” 
Thus assured, you leave the safety of the guest bedroom in only Diluc’s shirt and boxer briefs. Outside, the lord of the manor himself is standing in the hallway with a look of contrition on his face. 
He turns at the sound of the door and his eyes meet yours. 
It’s fatal. You offer him a smile, hoping to pretend the earlier situation never happened, but you’re met instead with a blank stare that makes you falter. Was he… angry? 
Archons, did he think you had let him into your room on purpose while you were undressed? The thought sends you spiraling. This was bad. You have to fix this. You fiddle with the hem of the dress shirt and prepare to apologize.
Across from you, Diluc is fighting an uphill battle with his self control to keep his eyes on yours as you stand before him in only his underwear. 
You were supposed to be wearing pants. Not… fuck, you’re staring at him like he has three heads. He has to say something. He has to set your mind at ease. He has to be a gentleman.
Think of Varka. Think of Seamus Pegg. Think of fucking Barbatos. For the love of Celestia do not think of anything else. Now SAY something.
“...How was your bath?” 
You blink. “It was… lovely, thank you.”
DO NOT THINK OF HER IN THE BATH. 
By the grace of whatever archons are watching over him, Diluc manages to carry a stilted conversation with you in which he apologizes profusely for his behavior earlier.
You do your best to reassure him that it was an honest mistake and no harm was done (except to your heart, but you’d hardly admit that). You soon find that he’s also asking your pardon for the “inappropriate” selection of clothes he brought you, however.
“Please, don’t apologize. They’re very comfortable.” You smile at him and Diluc feels his heart skip far too many beats. “Thank you again for your kindness, Diluc.” Archons, he loves the way you say his name. You’ll kill him at this rate.
Soon he’s falling into step behind you as Adelinde leads you into the dining room and seats you by the fire with a blanket. Satisfied that you’re comfortable, he turns and prepares to return to his study for the evening. 
Before he can, though, he’s arrested by your voice, innocently asking if he wouldn’t be joining you for dinner.
“I’m afraid I have… work to attend to,” he murmurs, glancing up to his office. “My apologies. I hope you enjoy- ow, Adelinde -”
The maid in question has two fingers wrapped around Diluc’s ear and is wearing a look of exasperation as she tugs on it, ignoring his words of protest. In a voice that suggests this is a common occurrence, she strongly forbids him from doing any more work tonight.
“Is it not the job of the master of the manor to keep his guests company?”
“Adelinde...”
“Master Diluc.”
He sighs, meeting your eyes with a sheepish look. “It appears that I’ll be joining you after all.”
With that, he settles himself in the armchair adjoining your couch, allowing his large frame to relax into it. A pleasant quiet descends as you watch the fire, listening to the maids readying the meal in the kitchen and the storm as it continues to rage outside.
You’re brought out of your reverie by Diluc’s voice, softer than you’ve yet heard it.
“May I ask how you found yourself out in the downpour this afternoon?”
You smile. “For the same reason I was out the first time we met.” He nods in recognition, glancing at the gathering bag and basket that still hang by the door to the winery.
“So, you’re a botanist, then? Or maybe an herbalist?”
The two of you continue this way, Diluc asking you questions about yourself in a low voice, and you answering them in the same soft tone. You lose track of time in the easy back-and-forth. 
After what feels like only a few minutes, a maid alerts you that dinner is ready; you rise and stretch, the blanket falling away from where it covers your bare legs. Diluc pointedly looks away, but you’re too distracted by the lovely smells coming from the table behind you to pay him any mind.
Walking ahead of you, Diluc draws out the seat adjacent to the head of the table and waits for you to sit before taking his own seat. The maids have been busy: a pot of tea, a bottle of sparkling wine, plates of roast beef, green beans, buttered potatoes, and stuffing, a tray of candied pecans, an apple tart, and a myriad of smaller dishes all line the ornate table. For a moment, you’re too overwhelmed to take a portion of anything. 
Fortunately, Adelinde appears beside you and asks which and how much of each dish you would like, and soon your plate is as full as it can be.
For a while, the two of you sit in comfortable silence as you eat. The food is beyond reproach. Either the maids and Adelinde have pulled out all the stops tonight for you, or wealthy estate owners eat like this every night. You’re not sure which makes you feel more out of place, but the food is too delicious and you’re too tired to dwell on such things now.
Periodically, Diluc asks how you’re liking a certain dish or if you would like more of what you’re drinking. As the maids top off your glass of wine and you begin to feel the day catch up with you, however, your responses to Diluc get slower and shorter until you can barely keep your eyes open. 
Through your lowered lids, you’re graced with the sight of a rare smile as the man next to you takes you in. He stands, offering you an ungloved hand in a silent offer to escort you to your room. You’re too exhausted to notice the color that comes to his face when you gladly take it and get to your stumbling feet. 
By the time you’ve reached the door to your room, you’re leaning more on him than you are on your own legs. Offering Diluc a drowsy smile, you bow a little and thank him once again. He returns it in kind, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little bit. He’s never looked more handsome.
“Have a restful night. With any luck, the storm will abate by morning. Please, if there’s anything else I can do, don’t hesitate to come ask me.”
And with that, he leaves you to the plush sheets of the guest room. You’re asleep almost before your head hits the pillow.
You dream of smoke and wine.
In the small hours of the morning, you awake to a cold draft that makes you shiver and a mind fuzzy from sleep. You try in vain to return to sleep, the soft silk sheets beckoning to you, but a peal of thunder seems to shake the house every time you close your eyes.
Sighing, you sit up and rub your eyes. It’s almost pitch black in the room; the sun won’t rise for several hours yet.
Maybe you could make yourself a cup of tea? You shiver a bit, drawing the covers tighter around you. Sitting by the fire doesn’t sound bad, either.
Your feet are quiet on the carpeted floor as you gently open your bedroom door and step into the hallway. Sure enough, there’s a flickering light from the main room; the fire must be still alive in the grate.
You gather the blanket around you and hurry towards the warmth, only to stop short at the silhouette of a figure sitting where you were earlier. You take another tentative step onto the floorboards, but a creak gives you away. The figure stiffens and turns to face you.
Diluc’s face and frame relaxes when he sees you, but there is still a hint of worry in his tone when he asks, “Is there something wrong? Are you warm enough in your room?”
You nod, stepping gingerly around the couch to sit next to him. He shifts a little to give you more space as you pull your legs up beside you. “Everything’s fine. I just went to bed a little too early,” you assure him. “Could I trouble you to let me into the kitchen? I’d like to make myself a cup of tea, if it’s alright.”
“Please, allow me,” he murmurs, producing a pot and a second cup from the table next to him, where he was apparently enjoying one himself.
You sip it gratefully, allowing the taste to linger in your mouth. “May I ask why the esteemed Master Diluc is still awake at this hour?”
He smiles a bit at that and mentions that he never sleeps well during storms.
The two of you watch the flames as you sip your tea, listening to the patter of rain on the roof. Even at this hour, the fire is still going strong. A thought strikes you and you turn to Diluc’s lap.
Sure enough, his vision is glowing, pulsing in a gentle bump-bump pattern that you’ve heard matches the wielder’s heartbeat. It relaxes you to see it so steady and dependable.
Before long, the warmth of the fire and the tea have lulled you back soundly to sleep. 
For the first time today, Diluc allows his gaze to rake over you unhindered.
You, asleep on his couch in his manor. Smelling like him. Dressed in his shirt and underwear.
In only his shirt and underwear, the least helpful part of his brain reminds him, and he has to stare at the fire for a while to curb that train of thought. It’s difficult when his gaze keeps flickering back to you anyway.
He counts himself lucky you’re not awake to see how the fire in the grate has grown in size and intensity, or how the vision on his hip is flickering in a wild bmp-bmp-bmp.
After reciting everything he knows of Mondstadtian foreign policy in his head a few times, he’s able to tone down the blush on his face enough to be manageable. As for the familiar, tight ache in his pants, he regards it as a lost cause. For now.
Diluc stands, stretching his arms with a quiet groan before turning to your sleeping form. He gently scoops you up into strong arms and wraps you tighter in the blanket you’re still clinging to, careful not to wake you. As he begins the slow walk to your doorway, a small smile adorns his face.
Upon ducking into your room, careful not to hit your legs against the doorway, he frowns. It’s much colder here than it was in the living room. He’ll have to do something about that.
As he places you under the covers, he unclips the vision from his thigh and folds it into your hand, where it thrums with a gentle rhythm . You drift awake for a moment, recognizing the red mane that hangs over your chest as Diluc tucks in the blanket around you.
Seeing your eyes flicker, he calls your name gently. “Are you comfortable?” You nod with a smile that hurts his heart in the best way. 
“Thank you, Diluc,” you murmur blearily, and he laughs a bit. You have just enough consciousness left to decide it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard as you slip back under the blanket of sleep.
That night, as the storm continues to rage outside his bedroom windows, Diluc sleeps better than he has in a long time. Downstairs, his vision pulses in your hand to his steady heartbeat.
You dream of warmth.
753 notes · View notes
utterlyotterlyx · 2 days
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The Fox and The Fawn
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High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel
Part Eight
Summary - Eris and your court grapple with the realisation that you left in order to protect them, whilst in Velaris, it becomes clear that you aren't as clueless as you seem.
Warnings - angst, depression, slight fluff, mentions of wing clipping, manipulation, slightly possessive Eris, unhinged Rhys, soft Az and Cass.
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven
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The morning light drifting through the pulled back curtains was the catalyst of Eris' groan, he threw an arm over his face to shield himself from the pale yellow light fluttering through the room, a room that felt off somehow.
Frowning, Eris removed his arm from his face, squinting through his sleep-ridden eyes to peer at the person who was supposed to be curled into his side, head resting on his chest, and palms idly drifting over his skin. No one was there.
Had the night before been a dream?
Had he not basically confessed his love for you whilst you confessed that despite the distance that separated you, that you had knowingly chosen to soothe him Under The Mountain despite your own pain?
Eris tugged on that golden thread in his chest, wincing as it withered back to him, shivering in pain within his soul. Rubbing the spot over his heart, Eris realised that the bond hadn't snapped for you like it should have, like he thought it had.
Throwing the sheets from his frame, Eris' gaze darted about his former chambers, searching for any sign of you. He inhaled deeply, expecting your scent to flood him, but found his heart in his hands when only the faintest of trances of you lingered in the air.
Before Eris could truly lose his mind, he glanced toward the vanity, to where a singed square of parchment lay propped up against a bottle of perfume with his name delicately inscribed on the face.
He didn't need to read it to know what it said, but he had to, he had to see it for himself.
I can't let him hurt you. I'm sorry.
The page had wrinkled and darkened in places, and droplets of your tears stained the parchment in his fingers. The words on the page told him the answer to his previous thought, that the bond hadn't fallen into place for you, which in a way was better, it meant that everything you had felt and admitted was because you wanted it, not because you felt like you had to accept something.
Shuffling sounded from below, a smash of glass and a screech for Nesta, he moved to the noise, quickly fixing his briefs from the night before around his waist, his bare feet padding against the wood as he headed toward the commotion.
He heard Elain's words, he heard her mutter something about her vision, about snow-capped mountains and the dress that had vanished from its place draped over the mirror in your room. Red shrouded his vision like thick mist, his entire soul was threatening to rip itself apart, hating itself for not only letting you get away, but for also for not being able to feel you.
Every single fibre of his essence was searching for you, holding onto any speck of your scent that lingered in the air. He didn't even see Lucien through his haze, he only focused on the one person who knew for certain where you had gone.
Eris knew, but he needed to hear someone else say it.
The fox prowled ahead, fists clenched and eyes low, his molten bronze pools swimming with tamed fury as his soul remembered the touch of your lips against his, how you tasted of midnight skies and honey, it was peaceful. It was perfectly you. Dark but beautiful.
Nesta had frozen in place, the eldest Archeron surprisingly void of any words. Apparently you hadn't told a soul, that much was clear from the shock and hurt on their faces.
“Where is my mate?”
Eris’ palms lay flat against the countertop, the same one where he had held you only hours before, kissing you and telling you how badly he wanted to be worthy of you. It dawned on him that throughout that entire conversation, from your joint confessions to the kiss that confirmed everything he already knew, to sleeping in the same bed, you had already known that you were leaving.
Pain and sadness radiated on Elain’s features, her bottom lids pooled with unshed tears, and she fell back into Lucien who had crossed the room after Eris had brushed past him, “Wait, your mate?” Nesta took a step forward, her eyes growing wider as her mind span with the news.
Eris hummed softly, his eyes still cold and stoic, “I thought it had snapped for her last night, after we spoke, after the kiss,” his gaze softened slightly, “She’s gone back, hasn’t she?”
Nodding, Elain answered, “Yes. In the night,” after Eris had fallen asleep with you wrapped up in his arms, leaving him to wake up alone with a spot beside him void of life.
"Hold up. Your mate? Since when?"
Eris rolled his eyes at Nesta, running his hand over his face, "I think I've always known, but it was Under The Mountain when I accepted it. When she was walking the halls singing to herself," when in actuality you had been singing to him.
None of them could be angry or upset with you, you had done it to protect them, to make sure that they stayed alive and safe, away from any form of war or conflict.
“I can invoke the Blood Duel.”
It wasn’t an act that was taken lightly. The Blood Duel was a rarity, but it was also made for situations just like the one they found themselves in. Rhys thought that you were unmated, it was his main argument of focus, but he had no idea that your mate was itching to tear him apart. Eris could invoke it, and maybe, just maybe, Rhys would have no choice but to honour the bond and set you free before it was too late.
Lucien inhaled sharply, “She wouldn’t want that.”
“I can’t leave her there, Lucien.”
“We won’t,” Nesta moved to stand before the arched window, peering out at the pond which was shimmering in the sunlight, glittering even, “If I know her well, which I do, she wouldn’t have gone back without some kind of plan in place. That woman is the best tactician that Prythian has ever seen.”
“Why wouldn’t she tell us?”
Nesta turned to Elain who was equally as confused, they had left Velaris to follow you blindly, they were devoted to you, “She didn’t want us to get caught up in it,” a guess, but probably true. Nesta turned to Eris, “Don’t invoke the Blood Duel yet. I know it’s not ideal but maybe she knows what she’s doing.”
They could only hope that Rhys’ greed would glamour his senses, “And if she doesn’t?”
Eris couldn’t imagine it, what they’d do to you in that prison of a city. That other part of you had retreated each day, the darkness bowing to the warmth and light of him.
Nesta felt Ataraxia call to her and she flexed her digits in return as if she was holding it, “Then we go to war.”
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“It’s for your own good, y/n.”
Rhys was waiting with open arms the moment you had stepped up to where Autumn met Winter, Azriel must have told him of your movements.
Your heart ached in your chest, everything was screaming at you to turn back and find another way, but you had to protect them from the monster stood before you.
The winter chill caused you to shiver, the skirt of your dress tugging you backward, willing you to move away, to go back to where you were safe and loved, “Promise me that you won’t hurt them.”
Smiling, Rhys extended a hand toward you, “If you cross that line, they will be spared.”
“Promise me. Promise me that you won’t hurt them, and if you do, the price will be your life.”
Rhys wasn’t stupid, he knew what you were doing, “I promise,” a familiar burning coiled up your right forearm and you glanced down to see a fresh tattoo inked on your skin, “Now, come.”
A shuddering breath moved through you, you stepped over the threshold into Winter and his hands were on you immediately. They were cold and calloused, there was no softness or love in his touch, just pride to have won.
“I apologise,” you frowned slightly, “I had to take some precautions.” Before you could ask about what he had done, you felt cold rings lock around your wrists and neck, you felt the power evaporate from your body, and you fell to your knees.
Clawing at the collar moulding with your flesh, you whimpered, “What is this?”
“A gift from a friend,” Rhys crouched down to your level, taking your chin on his fingers, “I told you that your power was unnatural, now you can’t use it at all.”
The voices in your mind had wailed, they screamed in protest as the power of the collar consumed them, the air fell still and you felt weak, almost mundane as Rhys’ power pulsed around you, relishing in being the strongest thing to now walk the earth.
“It’s a blessing,” he cooed to you, ignoring the cries coming from your lips, you tried to hook your fingers under it, to rip it off of you, but you had no strength, and the collar was already embedded into your flesh, “We can be happy,” his eyes shimmered and yours dimmed, “No more fighting.”
Drowning. You were drowning and no amount of air that you were gulping down was saving you. You were lifted from the ground and cradled to a cold chest, and all you could do was glance backward at the border, at where Autumn called to you before the world before your eyes vanished in a swirl of colour and you found yourself looking upward at a sky full of stars.
Nothing felt real.
Every step he took filled you with dread, you recognised the incline of the path, you’d know it with your eyes screwed shut. Shuffling entered your ear shot as well as the sound of gasps, you were sure you must have looked tiny in his arms, your face was stained with tears, your skin had gone pale, your eyes had darkened and stared blankly downward to your hands bundled in your lap.
Black veins snaked from the stone cuffs melted into your wrists, angry and poisonous, devouring you with each passing moment.
“Az. Take her will you?”
The room stiffened, but the Shadowsinger moved to you, he slid you from Rhys’ grip and held you delicately. The change of your scent was undeniable, and Azriel was sure that Rhys commanded that he take you so that he didn’t have to smell Eris for one moment longer than he had to.
Velaris could do nothing to soothe you, the looming mountains could only watch sadly as Azriel carried you to your room at the River House, the stars blinkered away entirely at the solemn atmosphere that coated the city in your silent fury. The princess had returned, but she was powerless, a lone bunny stalked by wolves.
Cedar used to be your favourite smell, but all it did was make your stomach churn and twist in agony, everything inside of you wanted that scent to be one of pine and cinnamon, they wanted it to belong to the person who had never been afraid of you even when you had given him every reason to be.
The knots in your shoulders writhed, your scars screamed as your power depleted, but you couldn’t bare to soothe it, it was the only thing you could feel aside from nothing.
“It’s alright, y/n. Everything is going to be okay,” Azriel kicked your door open as softly as he could, and his heart shattered into a million pieces when a single look inside sent you struggling against his embrace.
Nothing had changed, it looked the exact same as it had the night you had left, like it was waiting to you.
“Please, don’t do this. Take me back to him. Please.”
You knew that he couldn’t defy Rhys so openly, so foolishly. Azriel set you down on the comforter and knelt before you, his fingers drifted along the edge of the black stone collar, where the stone met the newly marred flesh beneath it, “I didn’t know that he was going to do this, I swear.”
So that explained the gasps. It wasn’t due to just seeing you in the flesh again, it was because of the collar and cuffs burnt into your skin. None of them knew of what Rhys had planned to do, that being to drain the life from you bit by bit, starting with your power, until you bent to his will and became his submissive monster.
Hazel connected with your own, and Azriel saw nothing but a wilting rose inside of you, broken with no chance of springing back to full bloom. Sat before him was a shell of the woman he used to know, and he had dealt a hand in your state, contributed to it, and it disgusted him.
“Get away from me,” your words struck him like Truthteller had become lodged in his heart, you had never asked Azriel to go away, you had always welcomed him with open arms and soothing words.
But the captured animal in front of him wasn’t y/n anymore, it was the frightened creature that Rhys had plucked from the forest and condemned to a life of solitude.
“Please, y/n-“
“Don’t say my name,” your eyes welled, “You don’t ever get to say my name. You’re not him, you don’t get to call me that.”
Hold on.
A shudder flew up your spine, the first bit of comfort you had experienced in what felt like a millennia, “Get out.”
Sighing, Azriel rose to his feet, he knew that there was no consoling you, no words that he could muster to make the situation better. As soon as Azriel left the room, closing the door with a soundless click, you found yourself staring out of the window at the stars that used to lull you to sleep but were now glowering in warning.
The valley sang with golden light, it drifted along the streets where childish laughter blossomed, it should have been comforting, but nothing about the moment was good. Nothing about Velaris felt safe. Gone were the days where you would stroll along the Sidra with Azriel by your side, gone were the days of harmony.
Hugging your knees to your chest, your mind floated elsewhere, wondering how Nesta, Elain, and Lucien would react once they realised that you had left. How hurt they would be by your abandonment. And Eris, you were sure that he would be feeling the worst out of them all, wondering why his words and admissions weren't able to convince you to stay.
All that mattered was that they were safe, protected by the bargain inked upon your flesh.
The reflection in the window wasn't of anyone that you recognised, she was pale, her eyes a shade of almost onyx bar the circle of wildfire in the irises, black veins protruded from the collar embedded into the flesh of her neck, her hair was loosely strewn over her shoulder. The life had been sucked from her soul and she had been left empty.
"Don't think about it," a shaky whisper racked through your body and you hugged yourself tighter. You couldn't allow yourself to crumble at the pain and grief, "You can do this. They're safe. You can do this, for them."
For Eris and the Autumn Court, for your friends, for the continent, you could confine yourself to Velaris if it meant sparing them all.
Time passed, time where the world beyond the window darkened and the golden hue of the valley evaporated into the night air, and it was during that time when another soul deemed itself worthy enough to find you.
You didn't feel him at first, for you were too dumb to feel anything, all of your fae senses had depleted, you couldn't feel anything. It was as though Rhys had locked you in a prison of darkness, where no feeling resided, where there was no knowing of who was coming to see you or what was coming next. A prison of solitude that even the fire couldn't touch.
Cassian sucked in a harsh beath as he stepped into the room, the entire space was freezing, soft whisps of air flew from your lips, and you shivered on the bed as you held yourself tightly in your arms. The Lord of Bloodshed crossed the room, perching on the edge of the bed, wincing when you angled your body away from him.
In that moment, Cassian knew that Rhys had lost his gods damned mind.
"I'm sorry," he wasn't looking to you, no, he was peering out of the window, wondering at what point life had gotten so fucked up. Anger bubbled inside of him as the stone collar around your neck sang with the power it had trapped inside of it. A monumental act that proved exactly how far Rhys would go to contain you.
"Is this how it's going to go? Rhys sends you in one by one to apologise, do you think that's going to wash away everything that's happened?"
Heavy eyelids greeted him just as the scent of you mixed with another had the moment he had stepped foot into the room. "Rhys doesn't know that I'm here."
Interest piqued, you glanced to him, noting the slouch in his shoulders, the messily thrown together low bun on his head, how his wings drooped lower than they had before, you noted the paled hue to his skin and how he sat with his elbows resting on his knees and staring at the floor, "Nesta misses you. She says she doesn't but I know that she does."
"Is she alright?"
"She's safe. I made sure of that."
Unlike you, you seemed to say, and your eyes confirmed the message.
"If it helps, none of us knew that Rhys was going to do this. Feyre is horrified."
"It doesn't help me at all actually, but thank you for wasting your breath."
It was astounding how a voice could be so vacant, like the last of the autumn breeze before the winter pierced through it. Cassian wanted to know more, he wanted you to tell him about Nesta, about everything you had found, but he knew that you wouldn't tell him, because you no longer trusted him or saw him as anything but one of your captors.
"Did you know that he threatened to kill her? All of them?"
A low growl emitted from him, "He told me of the others," and left out the threat on his own mates life, "That's why you came back. To protect them from him."
"When are you going to realise that the real monster is the one that lurks under your own roof and not the one who ran away to be free of it?"
The silence was enough, Cassian wasn't blind to the information, his hard gaze softened and he tentatively placed a hand on yours, his rough fingers coiling around trembling bone. You wouldn't survive whatever Rhys had planned for you, you were going to die in Velaris and Cassian would have to stand there as Rhys explained to the world how the darkness had consumed you.
It would be Cassian who would have to stand across from his mate and the people you had come to recognise as your true family whilst Rhys told them of your demise. He could see their faces in the forefront of his mind.
"I think I already am," no one could deny how the ways of the Night Court had shifted since you had chosen to leave. Rhys had become a feral beast prowling in the night on his hind legs, obsessing over the thing that had run away from him. "I'll find a way to get you out of this."
Cassian rose from his perch without another word, his calloused fingers slid from your own, and he left. Silence fell on you, but you looked back to the reflection in the window, to the woman that was undeniably you, and smirked.
Playing too many games might get you in trouble, Fawn.
Rising from the comforter, you drifted over to the glass, lifting the latch and opening it a few inches, allowing the songs of crickets and rippling waters to flow to you.
The rich tone of the voice made you shudder, and you could have sobbed at the sound, at how close it felt to the shell of your ear, so close that the ghost of his breath fanned over your shoulder.
I wondered how long it was going to take you to figure it out.
You could hear his smirk through his words, Nesta. A pause. Are you alright?
Swallowing hard, you replied, I'm holding on.
You're not going to tell me what he's done, are you?
No.
The stone of the collar shone in the moonlight, the shrillness of the night air brushed along it and cowered at the ward placed on its surface.
Has he hurt you?
Finding your reflection, you exhaled shakily, struggling to find the mask you had become so accustomed to wearing, Yes.
The place that you had folded Eris into began to unwind, Y/N.
I can do this, Eris. I can survive one last performance.
Eris was no doubt pacing the length of his bedroom, hair wild and eyes simmering with leashed violence. It was a blessing that Rhys was clueless to the carranam bond between you and Eris, a bond that not even his collars could touch or absorb, it was other-worldly and transcendent, something moulded to your very soul, not your power.
Pushing the rumbling pain back inside of you, channelling it to be something much more monstrous, you felt the talons of your other mind rise from the well inside of you, water sloshing over the edges and flowing through your veins like a disease.
It was the only way to do what you needed to do, what had been so masterfully done before. The mask settled onto your features and you rolled your shoulders, welcoming the monster back to the forefront of your essence, grinning at the demon that had come to say hello once again.
The kindred spirit. The one who pitied you enough to instead harmonise with you rather than take over entirely. The one who gave her power to you to wield, who was now shaking angrily inside of you by the mere act of having such power stripped away.
You have set the stage so well, my pure thing. The talons scraped against your mind, breaking through the cracks and seeping into the emptiness inside of you. Let me take it from here, let me tuck you away into the brightest part of us where no one can hurt you.
Did they really believe that you had no idea what Amarantha had done to you all those years ago Under The Mountain?
It had been your greatest kept secret.
Smiling, you let the Queen take control, you let her guide you to the warmest place of you, where the people you loved most rested and you watched on as a bystander as she got to work.
The monster wasn't just you and never had been. You shared your body and consciousness with a queen of sorts, a demon contained in a small onyx stone that had been sewn into you whilst your body had tried to heal itself from the clipping of your wings. And instead of taking over completely like it should have, instead of devouring you, the demon sought to mould with you, it sought to become one with you, and you had let it.
And all you could do was hope that there would be enough of you left to bring back once you were both done.
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Authors Note
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Also realised that I really need to update my master list oops xo
Enjoy! Love you all 🫶🏻
Taglist
@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams@magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielsmate3 @ivy-34 @mp-littlebit @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @ifonlyiwerefiction @pirana10 @donttellthecats @padbaeamidla @oucereeng @andreperez11 @demonicbusiness @megscabinetofcurios @superspideyparker @usernamesarelies
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Text
Apart
In which the brothers realize you're missing, and the events that follow. A prequel of sorts to Nightbringer.
Warnings: angst, gore, and minimal proofreading. Mild spoilers for Obey Me! Nightbringer. Implied Solodeus x Reader. As always, minors DNI. 🔞
Mammon
Mammon notices first. Your absence is an immediate, gaping void in his chest.
It feels like snipped string - a clean break. One moment, you're there, and the next...
Mammon's first instinct is to reach out with his pact - and when he's met with a cold, empty abyss, he panics.
Mammon's second instinct is to call Lucifer. The eldest is, after all, one of the most powerful demons in existence.
But there's nothing. No physical evidence, no trace of magic. It's like you vanished.
Mammon organizes search parties. He spents weeks trudging through the devildom (even the areas no human could survive) looking for you.
But, as the days wear on, it becomes clear that you're gone. Possibly for good.
Mammon tries to fill the void with whatever he can - money, gambling: his usual vices. But nothing can replace you.
In the early hours of the morning, when the house is still and the moon has barely crested the horizon, he sneaks into your room. He wraps himself in your sheets and clings to your fading scent.
Mammon never gives up on you. He 100% believes that it's only a matter of time before you return.
Until then, he's waiting. He'll always wait for you.
Leviathan
Levi is the second brother to notice your absence.
His anxiety spikes. Your disapperance is marked by this quiet feeling of unease. Of inherent wrong.
Levi's first reaction is to call you. And when his call goes to voicemail not once or twice, but ten times, he spirals.
While Mammon covers dark, wooded forests and cloud-filled skies, Leviathan find his way to the ocean.
Beaches - especially the ones located in the farthest reaches of the devildom - are dangerous for humans. They're filled with ancient horrors: things with far too many eyes and too many teeth.
Being here brings back memories of the celestial war. But, he'll brave them. For you.
And when it becomes clear that you're not coming back? That you may never return?
Leviathan isolates himself. He's made great progress over the years - joining his brothers on excursions into town, venturing into the foyer when guests visit - but he regresses when you're gone.
He spends most of his days gaming. His brothers rarely see him, even for meals.
His figurines are gathering dust. The newest issues of TSL sits on his desk, unopened.
Without you, Leviathan becomes a ghost of his former self - just another specter that roams the house of lamentation.
Satan
Asmodeus once said that if the Avatar of Wrath became truly angry, the world would end. It's a chilling thought - that the wrath he displays isn't full extent of his power.
When you disappear, Satan is waiting for you at the library. It's a calm day - students in red and black uniforms drag feathered quills over curled parchment, while the librarian tends to his stack of books.
Then, someone whispers, and a book slams shut -
And that's all it takes to set him off.
The Avatar of Wrath succumbs to a rage he hasn't felt since the earliest days of his existance. His anger burns - and he takes it out on those around him.
There's blood under his nails and dust on his clothes. And Satan, like some lesser demon, revels in the destruction. He pulls himself from the wreckage and stalks towards the town.
He tears down forests. He razes cities. His reach is endless and his wrath, unending.
It takes Lucifer, Barbatos, and Diavolo to capture him.
While you're gone, Satan is under house arrest.
Everyday, he loses more of himself to his sin - and eventually, his brothers wonder if there's anything left of him at all.
Asmodeus
It's Asmo who bullys pursuades Solomon to follow you into the past.
Now two of the most important people in his life are gone.
In public, Asmo pretends like nothing has happened. He attends classes, hosts livestreams, and holds several Asmo gatherings per week.
In private? He's a wreck.
Asmo has lost the two people whom he values the most - the humans who know that Asmo is both deeply insecure and intrinsically flawed - but choose to love him anyway.
Asmo spends much of his time at the Fall. He loses himself to sharp taste of demonus on his tounge and the heavy, repetitive music. Hands reach out to grab him, and the avatar reaches back.
In the morning, Asmodeus wakes up in an unfamiliar room next to a stranger. They have the shape of your face and the same color hair.
Quietly, Asmodeus gathers his things and leaves. His makeup is smudged and he feels volatile- like a supernova before it implodes.
Beelzebub & Belphegor
It's Beel who finds your D.D.D. in an alleyway way. The screen is cracked and he smells blood.
From there, the twins have vastly different responses:
To cope with your absence, Belphie sleeps.
The avatar prefers his dreams to reality. Nestled in the soft embrace of sleep, he sees you again.
He tells you everything. How he cares. That he misses you. That he's sorry.
Beel, on the other hand, can't sleep.
He also dreams of you: sometimes, they start out normally. Maybe it's movie night at the HoL, maybe he's on a picnic. But they always end the same: you, broken and bloody, at his feet.
He awakes with a start. Normally, after a nightmare, he'd seek you out. But you're not there. Instead, Beel clings to his twin and cries.
For once, Beel loses his appetite. Food doesn't taste as good when you're not around.
If When you return, he'll treat you to all your favorite foods. Just come back soon. Please?
Lucifer
Father must be laughing at him. No matter how hard he tries, his family keeps falling apart.
Out of all his brothers, Lucifer has the hardest time adjusting. Everything reminds him of you - the unopened bags of acidic coffee in the cabinets, the poison apples you'd bring to his study.
At night, he pours two glasses of demonus. (It's an old habit, from the days when you sought comfort at his side. He'd open one of his finest bottles and listen to you troubles). Still, he's loathe to let a good spirit go to waste. He drinks both, and toasts to your memory.
EDIT: I am a fool who forgot the taglist. 🫣
@simpinginthecorner @dreamingaboutyousworld @celyn-12 @iwanttodieplz @solomonslostsock @silveredwood
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lesbianpepsi · 10 months
Text
Fuck it I love you | part II
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pairing: sam carpenter x fem!reader
summary: When paired with Tara Carpenter for a project you were expecting a B or maybe even an A. Not falling in love with Tara's older sister, Sam.
series masterlist
words: 2.627k
warnings: light swearing, reader is a oblivious idiot,
authors note: i love y'all, remember to stay hydrated and stay safe:)
You have been going to the Carpenter apartment quite frequently after your first visit there; the nervous first time going over there jitters you had completely vanished. Your and Tara’s progress on the project had decreased but neither you cared, especially you. 
On the second week of heading over to Tara's place it was hotter than usual in New York.
The sun danced in the clear blue skies as it warmed up the world to a heat that border-lined into uncomfortable.
Sighing dramatically you dropped your head till it collided with the table with a thud.
"It's too hot to be working." You grumbled through the avalanche of pieces of papers and notebooks that filled up the dining room table.
Tara giggled, clearly amused as she stopped writing for a second. "It's hot but bearable." 
You shook your head against the table, tilting your head to the side to get a look at her. "It's not bearable, i'm sweating like a pig."
"You're not sweating like a pig, you're just being dramatic."  She quipped back with a smile, looking at you with raised eyebrows.
Rolling your eyes you picked your head back up, sitting up straight on the wooden chair again. "You say dramatic, I say the truth."
She chuckled as she began writing again on the paper, her penmanship unbelievably much better than yours.
"If you're that hot then there's a watermelon in the fridge, feel free to cut some slices." You didn't hesitate another second before you jumped up from your seat and headed towards the kitchen.
Opening the magnet covered fridge you quickly spotted the half cut watermelon wrapped in a thin layer cling film, with a greedy smile you took it out of the fridge before gently placing it on the closet cutting board.
"You want a slice?" You asked, turning back to look at her, she turned to look at you, nodding her head with a little smile. "Please."
Turning back to look at the watermelon you unwrapped it, tossing the plastic to the side as you eyed up the wooden knife block. 
Each knife grew in size at every slit made in the box, you opted for the largest knife. A satisfying noise filled your ears as you pulled out the sharp knife, the blade glistening from the sunlight directing into the apartment window.
Skilfully you sliced a few slices of watermelon for you and Tara, placing the two slices on a plate.  You were about to begin cleaning up when you heard a laugh from the other room, your eyes widened as you remembered who else was here.
Sam! 
Maybe Sam, Mindy and Chad would want some watermelons, you thought to yourself, a nervous smile growing on your face as you thought of Sam.
The woman practically lived in your mind ever since you met her, her grumpy glare never failing to light up your day.
Without another thought you walked over towards the living room, the sound of laughter getting louder as you entered. 
"Sam?" You asked gingerly with a nervous smile still on your face. At the sound of your voice the trio turned to look at you, their eyes widening dramatically as they froze.
Sam's eyes are glued to your hand before they lock with your eyes, her dark eyes cold and wary. 
You noticed Chad moving his arm over Mindy as he used his large build to hide most of her, as if he's hiding her away from you as they shuffled backwards.
"Would you like a slice?" You asked her with a joyful smile, completely unaware of the panic rising between the trio. Not noticing how dark your innocent words could be heard as.
"I've cut some watermelon slices if you'd like one, and you two can have some too of course." 
Sam's eyes flicked back down to the knife in your hand as the blade glistened with a light red liquid, dripping onto the floor.
"Watermelon?" She questioned as she slowly stood up, not moving closer towards you. You nodded your head, your smile growing nervously as Sam actually interacted with you.
"Yeah!" Without thinking you raised your hand which carried the knife to point towards the kitchen. "I could go and get them if you'd like?"
Sam glanced over your shoulder and into the doorway of the kitchen. "Tara?" She yelled with a small wobble to her voice.
You cocked your head to the side confused as to why she was asking for Tara. 
"Yeah?" Tara replied from the kitchen, not bothering to get up. "Are you okay?" She asked, her dark eyes returning back to yours. You smiled sweetly at her, she glared heavily at you.
A dull sound from the kitchen rang throughout the room before Tara joined the rest of you in the living room. 
It didn't take a genius to understand why Sam is so confused.
"Y/n, what're you doing with the knife?" Tara asked as she looked between you and the wet knife. You waved your hand back to the kitchen, the blade skimming past your cheek. Tara's breath hitched momentarily at your carelessness with the knife in your hand.
"I was cutting up the watermelons?" You explained, confused to why you are getting so many questions that didn't answer your question; did Sam want a watermelon slice?
Tara sighed as she took the knife from your hand, glancing at Sam who visibly looked much more relaxed with you no longer holding the knife. 
"Go get your slices, Y/n." She said with a laugh. You nodded your head as you headed towards the kitchen to grab the plate full of slices for everyone.
—————
The 'Watermelon incident' - as Tara called it- got you suspended from the apartment for two days. 
When Tara told you that you were royally confused and even slightly hurt, but when you thought about the situation the more you realised how concerned and even angry that must've made the twins and Sam. You couldn't help but feel bad as you texted your apologies to everyone through Tara. She found the situation humorous but Sam certainly didn't. 
"Wanna come to the gym with me?" Melanie -your best friend- asked you randomly as she paused the movie the two of you have been watching for the past hour.
You give her a disgusted look. "The gym? Why the hell would you wanna go to the gym on a Saturday?" You asked her, completely bewildered by the idea. Saturdays are for being lazy and relaxing, not working out so on Sunday you'll be sore and uncomfortable.
Melanie shrugged her shoulders. "I need to get started on my New Year's resolution."
"It's July." You say.
"And? I already know that." The blonde replied as if you're the idiot. "You haven't been to the gym at all this year and you decide halfway through the year to begin your resolutions?"
She rolled her eyes, folding her arms over her chest. "Going to the gym at least five times was my resolution, not live there. I think I'd actually die if I went there consistently." 
You chuckled as you smiled at her. Melanie grinned as she slapped her knees, standing up. 
"Is that a yes?" 
You scoffed, shaking your head. "No way."
She groaned as she grabbed your hands attempting to pull you up, but you weren't budging. 
"C'mon, I'm bored and all we've been doing today is listen to you talk about Sam and how excited you are for the Barbie movie." 
"Two very valid and fun topics." You defend as you pull your hands back. Melanie didn't give up as she kept trying to tug you up. "For you. I've never even met this Sam you're obsessed with."
Your stance weakened at her slight dig at your crush, at that Melanie swiftly pulled you to your feet. Ignoring the fact Melanie won the game of tug of war you crossed your arms over your chest.
"I am not obsessed with Sam." You said with weak authority. The blonde raised her eyebrows teasingly as she mimicked your stance. "Oh yeah? Prove it. Come to the gym with me instead of lounging here and talking about Sam."
You clenched your jaw as you debated your options. If you stayed in your shared apartment then all you'd do is create fake scenarios about you and Sam while listening to Lana Del Rey and you'd prove Melanie right. If you went with her to the gym you certainly would be distracted from Sam plaguing your thoughts due to the fact you'd be dying.
There was simply no winning. 
With a sigh you nodded your head weakly, your pride getting the best of you.
"Fine, I'll come with you." Melanie's smug smile urges you to take back your words but before you get the chance she's already grabbing at your wrist and dragging you towards your room.
"Get changed and for the love of god please bring a big ass water bottle with you. I'll meet you in my car."
You grumble out a response but do what she asked you to do. You didn't have many "gym" clothes so you simply decided on a pair of shorts and a shirt that were dark enough so they wouldn't reveal your sweat stains. 
Once you had filled the large bottle of water you double checked you had your phone and wallet before meeting Melanie in her car. She was already inside it and behind the wheel as Korn played loudly.
"We'll have fun, I promise." She reassured you as she started to drive towards the gym. You scoffed as you nodded your head. "Yeah sure."
Melanie and you arrived at the gym after twenty minutes, her being ecstatic to finally actually use her gym membership card. 
"Alright, what should we do first?" Melanie asked you as you two entered the surprisingly quiet gym. 
"I don't know about you but I'm heading towards the treadmill." You replied as you walked over to the treadmill section without waiting for her response. 
You hear her groan from behind you with footsteps following you soon after.
From the view on the treadmill it gave you further access to use the entire gym. 
A myriad of different people doing various different activities that you admired greatly, impressed by these strangers who clearly loved the gym.
But a pair of people caught your attention immediately, Melanie's too.  
"Holy shit that might be the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my life." She whispered breathlessly next to as she jogged at a slow speed on the treadmill. You swallowed nervously as you gazed at the woman next to the man, she's using one of the pull up bars while the man sat next to her using a stupidly heavy dumbbell. 
A grey tank top on her figure as she flexed her back and shoulders muscles, pulling herself up and down flawlessly.
You glanced at the man as you walked on the treadmill. 
"Oh my god it's Chad and Sam." You whisper yelled to Melanie, turning to face her with wide eyes. "If the workout doesn't kill me, seeing her working out will actually stop my heart!"
A shit eating grin quickly appeared on Melanie's face as she turned to look at you. "Damn, I'm straight but I can totally see why you're obsessed with her."
"I'm not obsessed with her." You reminded her as you glanced back at Sam's muscles flexing beautifully under the light, a small sweat on her skin which glazed her skin making her look even more attractive.
You could feel your heartbeat pick up its pace and you're more than sure it's not because of the slow pace you're doing on the treadmill. 
"Sure you're not. Let's go over there then." She proposed with a sly grin. 

You shake your head instantly at her words, chuckling nervously. "Isn't it like gym code to never disturb someone while they're working out?"
Melanie sighed as she played with the screen of the treadmill making it go faster. "You're right." You grinned triumphantly. "Guess I'll just go to ask Chad for some help when he's done with his rep." Your smile dropped. 
"And leave me so you can try to flirt with him?" Melanie nodded her head.
You didn't reply as you tried to focus on anywhere that wasn't Sam's glorious back. 
Jesus christ, maybe you are obsessed with this woman. 
After a solid ten minutes of a decent pace Melanie abruptly stopped her machine as she hopped off. You turned to look at her confused as you kept walking. 
"I'm going to go on the bench press and ask Chad for some help, see you soon babe." She confirmed with a comfort smirk, giving you a wink before she headed towards Chad and Sam's direction.
You didn't dare move off of the treadmill as your eyes followed Melanie's figure heading towards the two as Chad had finished his reps.
As she arrived at where Chad and Sam were working out, Sam slowed down as Chad smiled up at her. 
Whatever Melanie said to Chad must've worked since both were grinning like fools as they headed towards where the bench press was at.
You chuckled to yourself as you watched the two momentarily as Chad "helped" her with the bench press. 
Unconsciously your eyes flickered back to where Sam was at, to your surprise she wasn't there anymore.
"Y/n." Sam's gruff voice greeted you as she hopped on the treadmill. Your feet tripped over each other but thankfully you not so gracefully caught yourself as you smiled at her, not expecting to see her.
"Sam! Nice to see you again, how've you been doing?" You asked with a nervous laugh as your heart rate picked up once again. 
"I've been okay. You?" She asked dryly as she increased the speed to her treadmill, jogging with a speed that doubled your slow walking pace. 
You smiled dreamily at her, not bothered at all by her dry tone. "I've been alright thanks for asking, how's Tara been?" 
Sam's interest piqued due to you asking about her sister, a small, an almost non existent smile appeared on her lips. 
"Tara's good, she's currently with Mindy playing Mario Kart. She sucks tremendously at it." Her smile grew the more she talked about her younger sister, it didn't fail to make your heart soar.
"You're a good sister, you know." You mention with your own smile, increasing your pace slightly. "It's obvious you care a lot about her and I find that really sweet. Tara's lucky to have you as a sister." 
Sam didn't say anything; the sounds of yours and her footsteps filled the growing silence. You didn't mind, as long as you're with Sam you'll take it.
You and Sam jogged side by side in a comfortable silence for another ten minutes before Sam stopped her own machine, you glanced at her and couldn't help but find the flush on her cheeks completely adorable.
Something Tara would call you a lunatic for.
She's breathing heavily as her eyes locked with yours, a crooked weak smile on her face. 
"Thank you." She said in a tone that wasn't her usual dark and dry tone. Your ears warmed up as your eyes twinkled with joy at her words.  
"You don't have to thank me when all I'm doing is saying the truth, Sam." You assured her as you carried on walking, the excessive beating of your heart now being a mix of Sam's small smile and your increasing speed.
Sam stayed silent once again, giving you a curt nod before she turned her back, heading towards the changing room. 
God, Melanie was right, you're obsessed with her. 
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taintedtort · 11 months
Note
I forgot to send this LOL so that lil blurb you did of Scaramouche and Venti walking into yn being naked? Could you please do one with Xiao and Childe? Much love and sending good vibes ♡♡♡
prompt ✧ you walk in naked pt2
characters ✧ xiao, childe, gorou
warnings ✧ afab!reader, you‘re naked, slightly suggestive
a/n ✧ added gorou for someone else who commented on pt1 ^^ AND FINALLY GETTING THIS OUT OH MY GOD!! SORRY FOR THE LONG BREAK
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XIAO
✧ actually had a heart attack. died and ascended to the skies. it really had been an accident, but he could not find the words to explain himself. stood there just staring at you with wide eyes till you said something.
when xiao decided to come visit you in your room at the inn, he didn’t think he’d get such a surprise. he comes to your room quite often, he enjoys your presence a lot, so whenever he has free time, it’s spent with you.
you were in the middle of changing, you stood in your underwear with nothing else, getting ready to put on your outfit when you heard a knock at the door. before you could react, xiao was already walking in. you both froze in place, staring at each other. well— you were staring at him, his eyes were on your body. his mouth was dropped open slightly in shock, his eyes wide. it wasn’t until you shouted his name, followed with a "get out!", that he managed to move. he instantly vanished, green and black smoke surrounding him before he was gone.
when you finally put on your outfit, with a heated face, you called out his name. when he appeared in front of you, his cheeks and ears were red and he refused to make eye contact.
"i apologize, i didn’t mean to walk in on you like that." he mumbled, clearly feeling bad about it. he was worried you’d be mad and yell at him for just walking in without permission like that. he notes that he’s gotten a bit too comfortable with just walking in your room like that, not ever stopping to think that one day he might walk in on your changing.
"it’s fine xiao, it was an accident." you reassure him, seeing the worried look on his face. he nodded stiffly in response, still feeling awkward about the whole thing. when you noticed how uncomfortable he looked, you couldn’t help but laugh.
"what? did i look that terrible?" you tease, snickering as his eyes instantly snapped to yours and he quickly shook his head.
"of course not." was all he mumbled in reply, not bothering to tell you that be actually thought you looked quite stunning.
CHILDE
✧ shameless. it had been an accident, of course, but it wasn’t like he would let this opportunity slip by without making a joke or two.
when you were getting ready for bed and picking out your pajamas, you didn’t think childe would be home so soon. he’s usually late with work, so you didn’t think he’d walk in and see you. when he walked in and saw you in only your underwear, he let out an amused chuckle.
"oh? were you waiting for me?" he teased, making your face heat up. when you told him to get out and tried to cover yourself, he only smiled more, walking further into the room.
"why would i leave when you’re out on display for me like this?" his words made your stomach do a flip as he got closer. when he reached you, he leaned down and pecked your lips.
"but, if you really want me to leave i will." he smiled a charming smile, making you roll your eyes as you turned to pull a shirt on, muttering that it was fine.
you saw his grin widen from the corner of your eye as he stood and watched you silently, not making another joke. when you finished getting dressed and turned to fully look at him, he was smiling at you and had a loving look in his eyes.
"you know i think you’re beautiful right?"
GOROU
✧ he barely got a glance before he covered his eyes, blushing harshly and apologizing. you didn’t even notice he was there till you heard him yelp out an apology.
you were changing in gorous tent, not worrying about any soldier walking in since you knew they’d ask before entering his tent. but you didn’t account for the fact that gorou would come back so soon, walking in without a notice, since it was his tent after all.
you heard some shuffling behind you but didn’t bother looking, assuming it was from outside. but then you heard your lovers voice shouting out an apology. you quickly turned and saw gorou standing there, his hands over his eyes with his head turned away, his neck a red color.
"gorou? you scared me!" you giggle, seeing his reaction to your bare back. you weren’t facing the entrance so he only had a view of your bare backside.
"im sorry! i shouldve said something before coming in." he apologized again, still not looking. his ears twitched when he heard you laugh softly.
"it’s fine, really." you respond, waving it off while tugging on a shirt and shorts. you walk over to him and gently take his arm away from his face. he did a once over on you before turning fully to face you, his cheeks red.
"sorry anyway." he felt a bit bad for just barging in, knowing that you need privacy to.
"you looked good though." he mumbled, not looking you in the eye.
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Text
Partner
How she falls in love with you & how you ask her out
characters: Navia x gn!reader
warnings: none, just fluff
a/n: I may or may not be down bad tremendously for Navia...
Anyway, hope you enjoy!
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Navia
Falling in love with you was spectacularly unspectacular. In retrospect, there wasn’t a single moment Navia could point to while confidently stating it was the one she realized she was in love, no heroic deed or grand speech that suddenly made her look at you in a completely different light. Instead, her feelings for you were more akin to a collection of small pieces that slowly but surely piling up until they had become too obvious for her to overlook. 
Like how Navia could catch you silently doing tasks she despised without her having to mention it or how you instinctively moved your hand into a position from where you could easily catch her hat whenever a gust of wind caught both of you off-guard. All of which you did without ever mentioning it or expecting any kind of thanks, simply chalking it up to coincidence or downplaying it whenever she spoke up about it.
Looking back on the past week, it was difficult for Navia to describe it in any nicer way than “taxing”. Sure, it had neither catastrophe nor tragedy, and yet the constant gray skies, coupled with a sudden increase in the Spina’s workload took a toll on everyone in Poisson. As the week went on, it became more and more difficult to put on a smile, even for someone like Navia, so much so that the only thing she had to offer upon finally finishing her work was a deep sigh.
So she sat there, in her office, leaning back in her chair as much as she possibly could. Eyes closed as she hoped to maybe get the chance to dream a bit. And yet, as it finally seemed like she was about to nod off, a knock on her door startled her awake. Within a blink of an eye, her tired posture had given way as she sat down properly before calling whoever found themselves on the other side of the door inside her office. 
“I’m sorry for butting in, I hope I’m not being a nuisance”, you apologized politely before offering Navia a small smile. “The past week has been rough, so if you want to be alone right now I can leave.”
“Please, there’s no reason to think that. I was hoping you’d show up, partner. So come, take a seat”, her words instantly began flying out of her mouth as the corner of her lips shifted upwards, only for her to freeze a bit once she went over what she had said, eyes slightly widening as her gaze fixated on your face, trying to make out your reaction, no matter how small it was.
“I’m sorry, I won’t be able to do that. I still have a bit of work to do. I was just passing by and thought I might as well ask you something real quick”, you hastily explained, wearing an apologetic smile, only for it to vanish in the very next moment as you grew increasingly more nervous. “Are you on sunday? A friend of mine is going to perform in the Opera Epiclese and I wanted to go, so…”, your voice died down as your cheeks turned just red enough for Navia to notice. “Do you want to go together?”
As a tense silence settled into the room, you found it increasingly more difficult to keep a somewhat composed face, a part of your brain urging you to simply vanish as another screamed at you, and yet, when you finally found the courage to glance at Navia’s face only to see her stare at you with a wide smile, her mouth slightly open as if she was trying to say something yet couldn’t find the right words, you suddenly relaxed.
“Sure, it’s a date! I look forward to it.”
Within a moment you found yourself smiling at her in return, nodding your head before readying to leave the room and finish your work so you could start preparing as soon as possible. “Until Sunday then, partner”, you said your goodbye before closing the door behind you, leaving behind a Navia that suddenly felt full with energy again, all the exhaustion that had built up over the week gone to the wind as she instantly sprang into action.
“Until Sunday, partner…”
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themotherofhorses · 1 year
Note
omg vic imagine aemond that really wants to go home but realizes how happy and safe his sweet wife is in the modern world so he just embraces his househusband lifestyle and accepts his new life with his son🥹
pairing: aemond targaryen x modern!wife!reader
jla masterlist
Aemond stands by the window, rocking silently as he eyed the last bits of sunlight vanishing behind a row of sharp-peaked rooftops. It is tiny moments like this that make him miss his mother and sister and kid brother.
Jaehaerys and Jaehaera too, he thinks glumly. His sweet niece and nephew, always so delighted to see him. And Vhagar. His stomach tightens at the memory of them all, feeling like heavy rocks sinking deep within his belly.
He tries not to think about it. But it is all in stupid vain; he dreams of home almost every hour he lays abed, of the Red Keep and the sprawling hills and the vast, bright-blue skies.
"When you are ready to come home, my prince, all that is needed is to prick your finger- just enough for a droplet to fall.”
Aemond thinks about the rivers woman's words a lot. Sometimes his hand tingles with the strongest urge to unsheath his sword and slice his palm, just enough for Alys Rivers to feel.
He would bring his woman home- their son as well, and cloak her in all the riches across the realm.
I'll bring her home, and we will live in the Keep. She'll have a good hot meal and wine every night, and my mother will meet her grandson.
He turns from the window, gazing down at the wife kneeling on the living room floor with their babe. In her hand is a green dragon, one she named Vhagar, in honor of his mount, saying that it would be the closest thing to an egg. She waves it around Aemion's plump face.
Her hair hangs about her pretty face, and the smile on her lips is warm. Aemond feels himself falling in love with her again. He watches as Aemion grabs at the dragon with stumpy fingers, cradling it against his chest with big, violet eyes.
His lady's smile widens, and he feels his own heart flutter inside his breast.
It makes him want to kiss her, to carry her to their bedchamber, to fling her onto the bed, to make her heavy with his child again. He loves her so fucking much.
She is safer in her world (the healed scar across her lower belly is proof of that) and much happier too. He sees the way she lights up every time her mother or Aemion's aunt visits, excited to flaunt her son around. She easily rivals the sun. Isn't that all a good husband could wish for?
Aemond loves his home, in truth, and his family too, but he loves his lady wife more. Where she stays, he shall remain.
notes: his wifey totally orders the jellycat green fuddlewuddle dragon plushie. idc it's def canon.
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munsons-maiden · 2 years
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𝐀 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬
Here’s the Orpheus & Eurydice AU oneshot I promised - it’s angst WITH a happy ending though because Eddie Munson deserves all the happy endings. I hope you enjoy it! - Love, Kiki ♡
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 |  Eddie Munson x female reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | With the love of your life dead in your arms and your heart shattered to pieces, you’re ready to make that deal with God and swap places. Everything to bring Eddie back. But the only God in this dark place, frozen in time and filled with monsters, is not a benevolent one. And when you agree to his deal to play the game of gods and monsters and bring Eddie back, you know you it might be a losing game. You heard that story before - and it never has a happy ending. Now it’s on you to trick the fates and rewrite Eddie’s stars.
Inspired by this ask I got ♡  
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | angst with a happy ending, a bit of smut
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 7k 
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | death but not permanent (I mean he has to die first if we want to bring him back from the dead), angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence, contains traces of SMUT as a treat (not explicit but definitely implied so 18+ only please!)
𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.  
𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡
*whispers* This is for you, Eddie.
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You’d known you were too late when you raced towards the swarm of bats pouncing from the sky, a maelstrom of wings and talons and teeth, the air pierced by their blood-curdling shrieks – and Eddie’s scream.
A battle cry fading into a howl of pain that bled into the air.
You’d known you were too late when you finally reached him, tearing and ripping at the beasts pinning him to the ground, devouring him alive while the first of them started to falling from the skies.
Known you were too late when you fell to your knees with a cry of his name, and his dark eyes found yours.
When flashes of lightning bled through the thunderclouds above to paint the skies a deep, dark crimson. The same deep, dark crimson that bloomed on the white fabric of Eddie’s Hellfire shirt, like red roses on fresh snow.
Running from his lips as Eddie’s dark eyes found yours while you pressed your hands over his wounds, a desperate attempt to staunch the bleeding, buy more time –
But there were too many wounds.
Too much blood.
Coating your hands, sticky and warm like the tears that ran down your cheeks as you whispered, “It’s okay. It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”
It wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.
You both knew it.
The smile curving Eddie’s blood-smeared lips was a real one. Sad and proud and loving and bittersweet all at the same time. It was an unspoken farewell.
“I didn’t run this time,” he breathed.
It took everything in you to suppress the sob clawing at your throat. “No. No, you didn’t. You’re a hero, Eddie.”
“Told ya it’s gonna be my year.”
“It is. It is, okay?”, you breathed, “It’ll be. It will –“
“When you walk that stage…,” Eddie choked, “And grab your diploma…flip Higgins the bird for me, yeah?”
“You’ll flip him the bird yourself, Eddie. When…when you snatch your own diploma, okay? You’re gonna do it, and then we’re going to run like Hell out of there. Out of this fucking school, this fucking town. Just…away. Together.”
“Hey, sweetheart?”
The sob ripped free at the sound of the term of endearment, so beautifully familiar. “Yeah?”
“I love you. You know that, right?”, Eddie whispered, and the tenderness in his gaze even in death was so him, so Eddie, “I always loved you. It’s always been you.”
“Please don’t say goodbye, Eddie,” you whimpered, the flood of tears choking you, “Please. You…I need you to stay with me. Okay? Stay with me. Stay with me –“
But like the flame of a candle snuffed out by the wind, the light vanished from Eddie’s beautiful umber eyes, still trained on you as if he’d wanted to make sure you’d be the last thing he would see.
For a heartbeat, time froze.
The world stood still as more and more of the bats fell from the skies, hailing down all around you, the whirr of their wings and the thuds of their bodies hitting the ground the only sound to fill the silence.
And something broke.
Shattered.
Deep within your chest, your heart, your very soul.
It took you a moment to realize that the anguished scream piercing the cold air of this forlorn realm was your own.
Because the moment the life had been snuffed out of Eddie’s eyes, stolen, his body going limp in your arms…everything in you turned as cold and dark and dead as this realm around you.
You didn’t feel the cold anymore, the pain in your own body where the dying creatures had hacked teeth and claws into your own skin as you’d started to rip them away from Eddie. You didn’t care anymore why they were dying, or what would happen to Hawkins. To the rest of the world.
Why would you? A world without Eddie was as empty and forlorn as this one.
With the blur of tears veiling your vision, Eddie’s limp form in your arms and his blood coating your hands, you squeezed your eyes shut.
“You took him.” Your voice was broken, barely a whisper, while the shards of your shattered heart were piercing and tearing at your insides as everything in you was falling apart. The words weren’t a plea, but a command as you breathed, “Take me too.”
You waited.
For your bones to snap like twigs.
For the God of this forsaken realm to claim you like he’d claimed the love of your life.
The bats kept falling from the skies, fewer and fewer of them, their tails trailing behind them like lonely paper streamers at the end of a party.
The spores kept floating through the air, like the slow flurry of snow trapped in a snow globe, with you sobbing over Eddie’s body, a nightmare forever frozen in time behind polished glass.
But Vecna didn’t deign to take you as well, out of this world that had lost all its light and all its reasons to be saved because it had turned into a world without Eddie, without his sunshine smiles and warmth and kindness, his singing and his weirdness and his laughter.
The tears kept falling from your eyes while your body went numb with the agony of your overwhelming grief as you bent over, your forehead resting against Eddie’s, and wept.
For the boy who’d always fought the odds with the cards the fates had dealt him.
Who’d chosen kindness over and over again when it would have been so much easier to let the scorn and bullying he’d faced for being different turn his heart hard and cold.
Who’d dreamed of leaving this small-minded little town behind with you. Of walking that stage, and finally snatching that diploma.
For the boy you’d always love more than everything in this world.
You’d sell your soul to turn back the clocks, to unravel the tapestry of time, grasp the frayed ends and weave the threads back together into a happy ending.
Or simply to rewind time like a VHS tape, and press pause in one of the countless happy moments. Maybe to be frozen in a tiny little snow globe world wasn’t bad if the moment was a good one.
And there had been so, so many good ones.
You would have followed Eddie Munson out of this cursed town. You’d have followed him everywhere.
You didn’t know how long you’d wept – but it couldn’t have been long. Eddie’s blood had yet to dry on your hands, the warmth yet to fad e from his skin.
And with grim determination, at the frayed dark edges of the grief pulling you under, an idea took root in your mind.
The lyrics of Max’s song echoed through your memory.
And if I only could make deal with God, I’d get him to swap our places.
You would. Without a second of hesitation. Trade your soul for Eddie’s, bring him back, put the life back into his beautiful umber eyes.
If only there was a god.
If only, among all the monsters, there was a god who would listen.
But…there was.
You just needed to make him hear you.
Grim determination flooding you, you slowly raised your head.
Eddie’s gaze, unseeing, was trained on the skies above, the ghost of his smile lingering on his blood-stained lips. His dark hair formed a midnight-black halo around his head, the white particles settling in his curls like tiny snowflakes. Like stars in a night sky.
“No matter how this story ends…I will always, always love you, Eddie Munson,” you breathed, before you leaned down to place one last kiss on his forehead, the soft curls spilling from the black bandana tickling your cheeks.
And with all this love and grief flooding you, sweeping you away, a newfound determination, grim and fierce, blazed through your veins as you slowly rose to your feet.
Where you would go, you couldn’t take him.
Your voice was steeled with the force of your blinding wrath at the unfairness of it all, of loss and grief and that wild, desperate flutter of hope as it rang through the still air of this dark place.
“VECNA! COME AND GET ME!”
The bats had stopped falling.
There was no wind in the air, no noise apart from the thunder in the distance, crimson lightning bleeding through the clouds, the exact shade as Eddie’s blood coating your hands, slowly drying.
“DO YOU HEAR ME?! COME AND GET ME, YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!”
You grabbed the discarded makeshift-spear from the ground. It had fallen out of Eddie’s grip when the bats had sunken their teeth into his skin, forced him down.
“IS THAT ALL YOU CAN DO?!”, you screamed into this frozen void. You didn’t care if it would draw in more monsters. You didn’t care for the monsters of this realm anymore – all you wanted was to face their god. “IS THAT IT?! SENDING YOUR BEASTS WHILE YOU STAY IN HIDING LIKE A FUCKING COWARD?! COME AND FIGHT ME!”
You felt him before you saw him.
There was a shift in the air like ripples across a lake, raising the hair on your necks, a tingle like a swarm of spiders skittering down along your spine.
Max had described him to all of you, after she’d escaped him in the graveyard.
Rotten flesh, covered by writhing creeping vines.
Eyes as cold as the realm he’d made his home.
But nothing could have prepared you for the sight in front of you as you whirled around, your fist tightening around the makeshift-spear – because the eyes staring back at you weren’t the icy blue you’d come to expect.
They were dark, a beautiful, familiar shade of umber so opposing to the hollow coldness within them, sharp and hard as the edge of a knife. So out of place in Eddie’s eyes.
“No,” you breathed, shrinking back, away from this monster which dared to wear the face of the love it had just ripped from you.
“Is this not what you wanted, girl?”
The voice filling the air as he spoke wasn’t Eddie’s. It was the thunder in the bleeding crimson skies and the shriek of distant monsters in the air. It was the writhing of creeping vines on the ground, the vibration of the earth; an echo of a thousand voices that had become one.
He wasn’t here, not really. You knew how you looked like right now, outside of this illusion Vecna was creating – your body rigid, eyes white, frozen in place beside Eddie’s lifeless form on the cold ground. You’d seen it once, when he’d nearly gotten Max.
Vecna tilted his head, his face – the face he’d stolen – a frozen mask as white spores settled in his dark curls, the lack of light turning the dark chocolate brown into a deep inky black; curls you’d run your hands through countless times, playing with the strands, Eddie’s head in your lap as he read The Lord Of The Rings to you. Curls tangling around your fingers as you drew him closer to deepen a kiss, to whisper confessions of love.
Bile rose in your throat, bitter and burning and acidic, at the cruelty of Vecna’s mask.
Eddie’s eyes – but void of the warmth and kindness and humor they’d been brimming with. Eddie’s lips, void of the tender smile which had always played them when he’d looked at you.
Vecna had taken what you loved the most and twisted it into a nightmare to drive the blade deeper into an already fatal wound, simply because he could.
He was watching you; that predatory, icy gleam shining so horribly misplaced in Eddie’s gentle eyes that you wanted to break down and weep all over again.
“I want him back,” you breathed. “Take me instead. I won’t fight you. I won’t try to escape. Give him back, and I’ll follow you willingly.”
Vecna stepped closer, the expression in his eyes the sharp gleam of a bird of prey ready to pounce, to hack its talons into his squealing, writhing prey as he drew every last drop of anguish from their minds, feeding on their pain like a leech sucking blood.
Your grip around the makeshift spear was so tight that you feared your knuckles might pop with the strain as you refused to shy away any farther.
“I have no need for you to follow me willingly. I can take whatever I want to take.”
Vecna’s hand came up, slowly – the gesture of someone who knew he had all the time in the world – and nausea churned in your guts as the pad of his thumb caught one of your tears, his eyes, these beautiful dark eyes stolen from Eddie, locked firmly on yours.
“You already have,” you whispered. “You can’t take anything else from me because you’ve already taken everything. And I’ll take it back.”
I ran, Max’s words echoed in your mind. I ran, and then I was in that…that place. Where he’d put all the others before me.
Every realm had its god, and every Underworld its king. And every king…had a castle. You only needed to find it.
With a swift motion, you thrust out the spear, the red face of the demon glaring on his Hellfire Club shirt turning into the bulls-eye for your blade.
And with Vecna’s howl – not of pain but fury – booming through the air, you whirled around and ran.
Stumbling over writhing vines, not looking back whether Vecna was following behind, you raced into the looming woods at the edge of the trailer park, towards the fog in the distance, the crimson light seeping through the swirls and wisps like blood.
And when you reached it, hands outstretched, the edge of this illusion Vecna had created in your mind, the ground shifted, sending you stumbling to the floor, the skin on your palms tearing open as you caught yourself and pushed back to your feet to face your new surroundings.
It was just like Max had described. Crimson light, the hollow, distorted ticking of a clock, floating debris. The door with the red flowers made of stained glass like a heart at the center of Vecna’s lair.
Doors and stairs leading into nowhere.
Pillars reaching into the low, crimson skies – and on these pillars…
Vecna’s victims.
All of them.
Their bodies disfigured, limbs broken; hollow sockets where their eyes had been, mouths agape in frozen screams, forever muted in death. Like a horrid assortment of butterflies, their fragile wings pinned and preserved beneath eternal glass cases to decorate a lepidopterist’s walls.
That’s what Vecna was.
A collector of souls and horror.
The scream lodged at the back of your throat ripped free to form his name, Eddie’s name, as you fought for your feet to move, fought your body’s urge to bend over and retch as if somehow, magically, it would chase the cruel images away.
But there was no time.
And so, you stood still, feet anchored to the ground as you spun in a slow circle, eyes scanning the collection of horrors preserved all around you.
The Creels; mother and daughter side by side. Chrissy and Fred and Patrick.
And –
“Eddie.”
Your voice was less than a whisper as you stumbled the last few steps towards him, tears streaming down your eyes in hot rivulets as you reached him.
Eddie was bound to the pillar closest to the solitary stained-glass door; thick, writing creepers wrapped around his wrists to hold him in place, curling around his throat in a deadly chokehold.
Another beautiful butterfly trapped in Vecna’s collection.
But unlike the others, Eddie’s limbs weren’t broken; his eyes not amiss but closed, his features serene as his dark curls spilled around his face. A horrid, twisted version of sleeping beauty.
And in this story, true love might not be be enough to break the curse.
“Eddie,” you breathed, your hands reaching out, thumbs caressing his cheeks. “Eddie, I’m here. I’m going to get you out of here. Just hold on. Hold on a bit longer. Please, please hold on, do you hear me?”
There was the softest of flutters of his eyelids, fleeting and ephemeral enough to make you wonder if you’d simply imagined it.
With a barely suppressed howl of rage, you ripped at the vines around Eddie’s throat, tearing them away as your fingertips dug into the gooey black tissue of the creepers.
They came away writhing and hissing, their black blood seeping over your hands, mingling with the crimson stains of Eddie’s blood on your palms as screeches and hisses rose like a chorus of echoes in the air.
He knew. If Vecna hadn’t already known you were here, he would, now.
And time was running out like sand slipping through your fingers.
One by one, the vines came away beneath your hands, revealing angry red marks crisscrossing the pale skin of Eddie’s neck that only fueled your rage, this blinding, white-hot wrath that felt like it was burning you alive.
You wanted to hurt Vecna, hurt every last thing in this forsaken realm.
When the last of the creepers around Eddie’s throat came lose, his head lolled forward, against your shoulder, and a tremor ran through his body as you moved on to free his wrists, the black blood of the vines cold as it ran over your down your arms while you dug your nails into the creepers to shred them beneath your hands like paper.
It was easy, you realized when they came loose, Eddie’s wrists slipping free as he fell forwards, a limp weight in your arms.
Too easy.
“Do you truly think you can save him?”
There was mock in Vecna’s voice as it boomed through the air from behind you while you sunk to your knees in an attempt to support Eddie’s weight, keep him from falling over as, with a weak susurration, Eddie pleaded, “Go. Leave.”
“Not without you.”
Eddie’s hands came up to cradle your face, his skin cool, colder with every second that ticked by as the life drained out of him, and the tears – of despair, this time – started flowing as he rested his forehead against yours.
“I didn’t die for you to die for me, ya know,” he breathed, his nose brushing against yours as his eyes – his eyes, so warm and gentle and brimming with love – found yours, the ghost of his old humor laced in his voice. “Go. Live.”
“Not without you,” you echoed your own words once more.
Vecna’s chuckle rose in the air like a horrid echo. “You are a fighter for sure.”
A cry ripped from you as something cold and wet wrapped around your left ankle, dragging you backwards, away from Eddie as Vecna mused, “Stay with me, and you stay with him.”
“No,” Eddie’s weak whisper floated through the air as he reached out for you, a desperate attempt to grab you as he sunk to the ground, his mess of black curls spilling around his pale features.
You fought with every last ounce of strength left in you, every remaining dreg of willpower as you thrashed against Vecna’s creepers as they curled around your ankles, your wrists, pulling you away from Eddie and backwards to one of the still empty pillars, rendering you so utterly, utterly helpless as desperate sobs ripped from your throat.
Not for yourself, but for Eddie, cowering on the ground.
“Your suffering,” Vecna droned, stepping closer, the façade of his stolen face crumbling, the pale skin on his cheeks rotting away to reveal tendons and muscle beneath as those stolen umber eyes watched you intently while he drew closer, a predator stalking its prey, “Is almost at an end.”
The vines had reached your throat, cold and slippery, squeezing as your back met the pillar while Vecna’s mask melted away, wilted away, his form decaying in a gruesome, cruel promise of what would happen to Eddie’s body if your desperate attempt to save him failed.
And failing, it was.
Once again, Vecna’s hand found its way to your face, a long, sharp fingernail dragging along the side of your cheek, tracing the glittering streaks of tears as Eddie hissed, “Stay. Away. From her.”
Over Vecna’s shoulder, you could see how Eddie fought himself to his knees, ringed fingers digging into the dirt for purchase as he pushed himself off the ground with every last ounce of strength left in him while the creepers and your own tears choked your voice.
“Don’t try to put up a fight you cannot win, boy,” Vecna crooned, his eyes still watching you and his voice almost gentle as his other hand raised in the air, a flick of his index finger enough to make more creepers sprout from the ground, wrap around Eddie’s ankles to rip him off his feet again – but Eddie didn’t surrender. His dark eyes locked on you, the bandana slipping off his head to release the mess of his wild curls as he struggled and fought against the creepers, he hissed, “I said. Don’t. Touch. Her. You ugly. Fucking. Boogeyman.”
For a split second…Vecna flinched as Eddie called him Boogeyman. As if the insult had actually hit home.
Of course it had, it dawned on you.
All this doling out judgement, deciding who lived and who died, his message for the little girl which had defeated and banished him here – in his own eyes, Vecna was the god of this mirror realm as much as he was in yours.
A banished god, but a god nonetheless.
And if the stories humankind had been telling since the beginning of history had taught you one thing…it was that gods got bored.
Before the creepers slithering up your throat, your chin, could reach your lips to mute you, you spat, “Let’s play a game.”
Your eyes found Vecna’s, icy blue seeping through the warm umber of his irises as his mask kept melting away.
“I don’t play games.”
“Don’t you get bored?”, you choked out, the creepers’ grip around your throat tightening further, “Banished by a little girl. Banished over and over again. Don’t you want revenge? Don’t you want to hurt us all for what we keep doing to you?”
“Yup, um,” Eddie choked, “Sweetheart…you’re not…helping –“
“I am hurting you right now,” Vecna crooned, Eddie’s voice dying with the tightening of creepers around his throat, and rage burned in your chest as Vecna dragged the back of his index finger along your jaw.
“Not as much as you could,” you breathed, oxygen running out. You could see the gleam of cruelty, of interest, in those eyes, fully blue now, like a lake frozen in eternal winter. He was listening.
You needed to make it count.
“Let us go,” you forced out, “And see how far we can run. If you’re as powerful as you think you are – there’s nothing left for you to lose and a lot of entertainment to win.”
The smirk playing on this creature’s rotting lips was sickening, when he crooned his reply. “I have a better idea.”
You waited for the vines to squeeze your windpipe, throttle you, snap your bones – but their grip…loosened.
You fell to the ground, on your knees in front of Vecna’s decaying, mutated form, your teeth gritted as a claw-tipped index finger locked underneath your chin, tilting your head up to force you to meet his cold eyes when he drawled, “You wanted to make a deal. To stay with me in his stead.”
“Yes,” you whispered.
“NO!”, Eddie howled, but the vines clamped over his mouth, his eyes wide as tears of panic and terror and despair streamed down his face, smearing the soot and the blood on his cheeks.
“Here is my deal, girl,” Vecna cooed. “Run. Run away and leave him here with me and don’t look back. Not once. If you look back before you’ve reached the edge of my realm, I will keep both of you. If you don’t, and if you make it past my army – I will give him back to you.”
You knew what Vecna was doing. You knew the story and you knew it didn’t have a happy ending.
A tale as old as time.
“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”, you hissed.
Vecna tilted his head, the skin on his cheek shriveling away with the movement to reveal pale bone and teeth beneath.
“You won’t. I might be many things – but I am no liar. But you better hurry if you want to save him,” Vecna droned, trailing his finger down your throat, over the vines that heeded his command, loosening, slithering down to the ground, “Because time is running out. There is only so much even I can do when a heart has ceased beating for long enough.”
With these parting words hanging in the air of his lair, Vecna stepped away from you, and the rest of the vines retreated to set you free.
As if on cue, there was a last deep, distorted tick of the grandfather clock floating in the distance.
With a last glance at Eddie, his eyes screaming at you to run, you did exactly that.
You turned heel, and you ran.
At first, nothing happened.
You’d anticipated monsters, another swarm of bats, vines, something.
The absence of all these things could only mean that Vecna had something else in store for you.
Something worse than his vines and his monsters.
But the one thing you could do right now was continue to run.
And you did.
Breaking through the wall of mist, you were back in the woods, beneath the crimson thunderclouds glaring through the naked branches of the trees, your pants echoing through the air as your legs carried you faster than you’d ever run, the edge of the woods already in sight –
A scream pierced the air. Laced with raw, primal anguish.
Eddie’s scream, calling out for you.
You froze dead in your tracks.
A trick. It was a trick. Eddie was with Vecna. Eddie was still there, left behind because that was the deal, and this was nothing but a trick to make you turn around and lose the bargain.
To condemn Eddie and yourself to eternal Hell in Vecna’s lair.
A second scream rang through the air of the woods, even more tormented than the first one.
“HE TRICKED YOU! VECNA TRICKED YOU!”
No. No, he didn’t. He couldn’t –
Why couldn’t he?
It was the game of gods and monsters you were playing.
You’d left Eddie behind, in this horrible place, among the rotting souls of Vecna’s victims, his collection of butterflies, all for a monster’s promise?
“MAKE IT STOP!”, Eddie’s screams filled the air, “PLEASE! PLEASE MAKE HIM STOP! HELP ME!”
“It’s a trick,” you whimpered. You knew the story. Vecna sure as Hell knew it, too. Orpheus turns, Eurydice stays damned, they both die in the end.
But these screams, the pictures they painted in your mind…they were made from the fabric of nightmares.
He had Eddie. He still had your sweet, gentle Eddie, locked up in this place of horrors.
And with a glance at the trailer park in the distance, the trailers dark silhouettes against the crimson skies, you realized that Vecna hadn’t needed to trick you. You’d done that all on your won.
Because of course you were still trapped in Vecna’s vision.
Without music.
Oh god.
In all your grief and despair, so hellbent on bringing Eddie back…not once had you thought about bringing yourself back as well.
You didn’t have music to break the curse. And Dustin – Dustin was with the others, having sought them out because you and Eddie had sent him there, out of harm’s way.
There was no one left to put a pair of headphones over your ears.
And Vecna had known it all along.
That’s why he’d agreed.
It had been a losing game all along.
“No,” you whispered, slowly sinking to your knees while the tears started falling again, Eddie’s screams filling the air, and your hands pressed over your eyes as if there was any chance to keep the flood of images at bay of all the horrible things Vecna could be doing to Eddie right now, doing to him because you’d left him there. “No, no, nonononono NO! STOP!”
But it didn’t stop.
“MAKE IT STOP!”, Eddie’s scream laced with your own, “PLEASE! PLEASE MAKE IT STOP! HELP ME! PLEASE, COME BACK!”
Your head snapped up at these words, breath catching in your throat.
These screams couldn’t belong to Eddie.
It was his voice, but these weren’t his words – because Eddie wouldn’t scream for you to come back. No matter the torture Vecna could concoct for him, Eddie would want you to run, to leave him in that place, because he’d wanted you safe. That’s why he’d cut the rope, had darted out of the safety of the trailer and right into certain death to buy more time. Not for the others, but for you.
Which meant Vecna was trying to trick you right now.
Which, again, meant he knew there was a way out, other than with music.
A hidden path to break the spell from within.
And he was distracting you so you wouldn’t find it.
Hands pressing over your ears to drown out the screams, your mind was going a mile a minute.
What had Max told you?
The red realm, the pillars, Vecna’s victims. The remains of Creel House, the floating clock, the light seeping through the red petals of the flowers in the stained-glass window.
Music, Kate Bush’s voice ripping the fabric of Vecna’s curse, opening a window back to reality.
I thought of when I was happy.
Happy.
Happy memories.
If Max was sure she could hide in a happy memory – maybe a happy memory would be the key to unlock the door even without music.
Your eyes squeezing shut, the screams that weren’t Eddie’s in the air, you thought of him.
How you’d always watched him in English Lit class, the movement of his hands as he drew little doodles to the pages of his books, all over his notes. Bats and guitars and random chords, little demon faces and monsters. Admiring him from afar, this dangerous looking guy with the mane of dark curls that wasn’t black but the soft brown of dark chocolate, with his tattoos and rings and ripped jeans and leather jacket, the guy most people steered well clear of because he was a freak dealing drugs.
How one day, he’d caught you watching him in class – and had given you the most timid yet dazzling smile you’d ever seen.
How with that first smile, you’d known you’d fall for him.
How, a few days later, there had been a little doodle of a vampire bat waving a wing in greeting slipped through the slits in your locker door, the word “hi” scrawled at the bottom with black sharpie. The answering “hi” with a rendition of a waving bat of your own you’d slipped through his locker door – and all the little doodles and notes which had followed.
The first time these clandestinely swapped slips of paper had turned into a real conversation.
Fleeting touches and lingering glances, until one day, there had been one of his doodles of a bat playing the guitar, with a note inviting you to one of his band’s gigs at The Hideout.
The first kiss in the moonlight outside of the bar, and all the kisses since.
Eddie Munson, who was your first kiss, your first love, your first everything, and who’d always be the last because you knew with all your heart that there never could be anyone you loved as much as you loved Eddie.
And with this burst of happiness as these memories flitted to you, like a swarm of fireflies lighting up this eternal night of pain and grief and loss and fear, you grabbed one.
The newest one.
Yesterday night.
His dark curls were tousled, even messier than usual with the way you’d raked your hand through the soft strands as he’d kissed you, both of you breathless. A fresh wave of need flooded you as Eddie’s fingertips wandered down along your spine, the warm, smooth metal of his rings a beautiful contrast to his hands, calloused from years and years of playing his guitar.
His breath ghosted over your collarbone to elicit sparks in its wake; your body turned into a live wire beneath his caresses as his soft lips trailed kisses down the column of your throat. Another moan tumbled from your lips, and you could feel his smile against your sweat-soaked skin as you mused, “Don’t you think they’ll know what’s up if we stay away any longer?”
Eddie chuckled, the sound vibrating through your body with a pleasant shiver that seemed to travel straight to your core, stoking the need for him once more. God, you would never get enough of this. Of him. All of him.
“We’re a couple,” Eddie breathed, teeth grazing the sensitive skin above your racing pulse point as he pressed closer against you, his thigh creating enough friction against your heat to send your senses spinning all over again, and one of his hands came up to gently tilt your chin, granting him even better access to the sensitive skin below your ear. “We snuck away half an hour ago. I’m pretty sure they know exactly what we’re doing.”
“Have been doing.”
“Are still doing,” he corrected mischievously.
“Is this a radio show or a secret make-out session?”, you teased, and Eddie snickered in reply, before he pulled back to rest his forehead against yours, those beautiful umber eyes brimming with warmth, his pupils still dilated with arousal as he whispered, “I love you, sweetheart. You know that, right?”
“I love you too,” you breathed, and Eddie’s expression changed as he saw the tears brimming in your own eyes, his hands coming up to gently cup your face.
“What is it?”, he asked softly. His voice was a dark croon, still laced with his afterglow, his breathing ragged, “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’m scared. I’m so fucking scared to lose you, Eddie.”
He squeezed his eyes shut as he nodded, overwhelmed with his own emotions as your words burst the happy little bubble the two of you had created, reality catching up with you again. Of the plan for tomorrow. And the thoughts of everything that could go wrong.
“I can’t lose you,” you whispered, your voice breaking with the strain of tears.
“You won’t,” Eddie crooned. His breath was warm as it fanned over your lips, his scent wrapping around you like a blanket. “I promise you won’t.”
“You can’t promise that.”
There was a beat of silence, before Eddie’s hands left your cheeks and he reached up to remove his necklace, a few stray curls tangling in the tiny links as he pulled it over his head.
“Wait, let me –“ you breathed, already moving to help untangle the strands from the necklace, “What are you even doing?”
The last few of his curls were freed beneath your fingertips, and with another of his sunshine-smiles, Eddie gently put the necklace over your head, the guitar pick dangling from the band warm against the skin below your collarbone as your hand flew up you grasp it, eyes widening in surprise.
“You –“
“Keep it safe for me, sweetheart, will ya?”, Eddie smiled softly, pulling you closer before he nuzzled his nose against yours. “And when we’re out of there, safe and sound, and that goddamn son of a bitch is six feet under, you can give it back.”
The lump in your throat was growing, throttling you. “And what if we don’t?”
The expression in Eddie’s dark eyes was stern when he breathed, “Then you’ll have to find me in the next life to give it back.”
“I can do that. I’ll find you in every life. I will always, always love you, Eddie Munson.”
“Good,” he replied, the softest of smiles on his lips as he gently tilted your head, “Because you won’t get rid of me again, sweetheart. Promise.”
And his lips met yours, to kiss away the fear and the sorrows once again.
Tears running down your face, your hand flew up, fingers wrapping around Eddie’s guitar pick charm resting over your heart, its surface smooth and warm against your skin, love flooding every cell of your body, every corner of your soul, like sunlight piercing through thunderclouds.
And when you lifted your head, it was there, at the edge of the woods, where the trees stopped and the trailer park began.
A rip in the fabric of Vecna’s curse.
The way out.
The screams that weren’t Eddie’s behind you, you climbed to your feet and started to run.
You didn’t turn around.
You were winning, you realized as you drew closer, your ragged breaths filling the air, blood rushing in your ears.
You were winning this twisted game of gods and monsters.
There, beyond the veil of Vecna’s curse, was your silhouette, still as a statue, head raised to the skies. And there was Eddie, his lifeless body on the ground beside you, his heart still as frozen and still as this cursed mirror realm.
Not much longer.
You were close, so close –
There was a shriek in the air, blood-curdling and high-pitched, a million voices forming one.
And then they were upon you.
Bats; hundreds and hundreds of them.
A sea of claws and wings and teeth.
You screamed as they reached you, leathery wings slapping your face, talons scratching and tearing at every inch of your skin, drawing blood, pain shooting through your body as you fought to keep going, to keep pushing forwards.
This was what it had felt like for Eddie, you realized. The last minutes of his life.
Panic and pain, drowning in a sea of monsters because he wanted to draw them away from you.
Only that for him, it had been real while this, right now, was nothing but an illusion.
They weren’t real.
They couldn’t kill you.
Only Vecna could do that.
With a howl of fury and anguish, you darted forwards, towards the rip, towards Eddie, the real Eddie.
Who needed you to run.
To make it, for the both of you, before he was so far gone that not even Vecna could bring him back.
A final cry ripping from the back of your throat, you leapt through the torn, frayed edges of Vecna’s spell.
With a gasp, your eyes flew open the moment your knees hit the ground, hands splayed in the dirt to catch your fall, body racked by tremors as you fought for your lungs to fill with the Upside Down’s toxic air.
The bats were gone, vanished. So were the screams.
You’d made it. You’d actually made it.
“EDDIE!”, you cried out, voice breaking as you scrambled to your feet, towards his lifeless form.
“Eddie”, you sobbed, falling to your knees beside him, your hands shooting out to grasp his shoulders, shaking him slightly, “I made it out. You need to wake up now, okay? You gotta wake up.”
Any second now. He would tilt his head and smile at you and everything would be okay, the rip in your own chest mended, the pain chased away by joy.
You waited.
For Eddie’s chest to rise with an intake of breath.
For the warmth and light and life to return to his umber eyes.
For his lips to tug into one of his sunshine-smiles as he realized that you’d done it, that you’d brought him back.
But nothing happened.
His chest didn’t move.
His umber eyes stayed fixed on the bleeding skies, hollow and unseeing and dull.
“Eddie?”, you breathed. Pleaded. “Eddie, you need to wake up.”
You shuffled closer, your hands running through his dark curls, the strands coated with dried blood as you cradled his head, the pad of your thumb caressing his cheek to swipe away some of the soot and dried blood.
His skin was cold beneath your touch.
“Wake up, Eddie. Wake up. Come back –“
But he didn’t.
It felt like breaking all over again.
Your head thrown back, you screamed at the skies, voice shrill as it rang through this eerie new quiet.
“YOU PROMISED! YOU PROMISED TO BRING HIM BACK YOU SON OF A BITCH!”
There is only so much even I can do when a heart has ceased beating for long enough.
You’d been too late, you realized.
And Eddie…he would stay in this horrible place.
Alone and scared, another beautiful dead butterfly pinned to Vecna’s wall of horrors.
You had left him there.
“No,” you sobbed, burying your face in the crook of his neck, his curls tickling your tearstained cheeks.
This couldn’t be the end. Not in this cold, dark realm frozen in time. Not now, when there would have been a whole lifetime ahead; when there were so many dreams to live, memories to make.
It wasn’t fair –
There was a sharp intake of breath, a soft shudder running through his body.
Followed by a muted, “Jesus H. CHRIST.”
Your head snapped up – and your eyes met Eddie’s.
Warm and brimming with life and relief and tears as you stared at each other in utter shock and disbelief before his lips found yours, his fingers gently grasping your chin to tilt your head up and deepen the desperate, greedy kiss, so fierce and full of everything neither of you had the words to phrase right now, of heartbreak and relief and happiness and love.
Tell me this is real, your lips moving against his seemed to beg, tell me it’s not just another of Vecna’s cruel tricks.
The kiss tasted of blood, of your tears mingling with his own, of him, and a suppressed sob of relief ripped from your throat as Eddie’s hands settled on your back, trembling when he pulled you closer against him as if he, too, wanted to be sure that this was real.
The dark realm of the Upside Down blurred around you like watercolours running over a canvas while every fibre of your being was filled with raw, radiant happiness.  
Because no matter what would happen now, with Vecna, with Hawkins…everything would be okay. Eddie was back. That was all that counted.
Nothing else mattered but this, right here. Eddie’s lips on yours, his skin warm against yours, his chest rising and falling with each breath as he held you close.
Your hands found their way beneath the remains of his torn Hellfire shirt, roaming up his chest – careful not to graze the bite wounds, his skin coated with dried blood beneath your searching fingertips – and Eddie pulled away, a little bewildered. “Um, like…right now?”, he panted, “I mean – here?”
“Your heartbeat,” you breathed, dumbfounded. “I want to feel your heartbeat.”
There was a second of silence before you both burst into tear-stained, relieved laughter.
You’d thought you’d never hear that sound again, the beautiful melody of Eddie’s laugh.
Your favorite sound in the world. It made sobs rack your body all over again as Eddie shuffled closer, his arms coming around you once more to pull you against him as he cooed, “It’s okay. I’m fine. You did it.” With your cheek pressed against his collarbone, you could feel the soft, incredulous laugh rumbling through him as he added, “You fucking did it.”
He moved, one of his hands finding yours underneath his shirt to gently guide your own hand upwards, placing your palm over the warm skin of his chest, right above the steady pounding of his heart.
“See? You made it,” he whispered, a half-sob, half-laugh bubbling from his lips, “You fucking made it. You fucking brought me back. We’re gonna need to have a talk about your crisis discussion with the undead eldritch entity ‘cause I was pretty sure my soul left my body for a second time in a row when you recounted how we all repeatedly sat his ass on fire but you fucking made it.”
“That was pretty metal of me, huh?” you whispered.
“Hell yeah. You totally stole my thunder, sweetheart. Just when I thought my guitar solo was the moment of the day you drag my ass out of the goddamn Underworld.”
You sniveled, the tears still rushing down the sides of your face – of relief this time.
Your free hand, the one that wasn’t resting over Eddie’s heart, flew up to grasp the guitar pick dangling around your neck and pull the necklace over your head, but Eddie’s hand folded over yours to stop you. “Keep it,” he said softly, “Just…I…you went in there for me. You did that.”
“I wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t saved me first,” you breathed, a smile on your lips. “That was pretty damn heroic yourself, Munson.”
There was a beat of silence, before Eddie said quietly, “I’d do it again to save you. Not a second of hesitation.”
“I know. So would I.”
His hands came up to the sides of your face, thumbs gently brushing away the tears from your face as he whispered, “I love you, sweetheart. I love you so fucking much.”
“And I will always, always love you, Eddie Munson.”
---
𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞  𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩  𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 ♡
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lets-try-some-writing · 10 months
Note
For the "Not So Normal Teacher" thingy. (Not the original asker, just got an idea for it.)
Imagen some of the Decepticons destroying a part of the school, nearly endangering the students, and Optimus going completely feral over it. Like, Primus have mercy on those who thought it was a good idea to attack the school. Doesn't even matter if it was an accident.
Only good thing is, that the school grounds and students are off-limit now. None of the Decepticons want to deal woth a feral Optimus again, not even Megatron.
It has been a moment since I touched this AU, but I love it so here we go. Time to flex my writer muscles again and mess with this.
Previous part here.
══════════════════
It was a fairly average day with Optimus teaching as he normally would when the alarm sounded. The children were rushed outside where armed soldiers were already waiting to usher the children away just in time for a squad of Vehicons to drop down and attempt to bomb the school upon sensing Optimus's signal within.
They missed the school itself due to Optimus projecting his signal more powerfully to draw them away, however their attacks managed to damage a good fourth of the building. Rock and stone were sent flying, very nearly hitting a few students and scaring the younger children into a state of hysteria. At that moment Optimus saw RED. His holoform was absorbed the moment it was out of sight and Optimus's true form came barreling into action. By the time his real body arrived, the children and all other civilians had been evacuated by the military, leaving Optimus one mission.
He transformed without a second thought and threw himself into blasting the Vehicons out of the skies. Unfortunately for them, Optimus's aim rang true and they fell like buckets of bolts. The Vehicons attempted to fight back, they really did, however they were no match for a Prime fed up with their slag and downright wrathful over their attempt to harm his little archivists. The group of three escaped alive, however one came back missing a wing, another lost an arm, and the third had to be carried since his legs were lost in the bargain for life.
As a general rule, Optimus didn't touch Vehicons beyond punting them into a wall if they got too uppity. Thus seeing three Vehicons return shaken beyond words and missing limbs left and right was concerning at best and terrifying at worst. Having Soundwave review footage from where it could be gathered was enough to drive one point home.
The human school was not to be touched. Ever.
Thus is quickly fell in the very very short "off limits" list and life went on as usual. But of course the rumors around Mr. Pax only grew. The students noted his absence and the few observant ones were very aware of the fact that the bombers vanished but a few minutes after Mr. Pax did. Those who believed him to be an old god added yet another reason to their claims when they pointed out the total lack of destroyed jets or gore. It was as if nothing even existed to attack the school in the first place.
All the while Jack, Miko, and Rafael watched on knowing full and well just who was behind the whole situation and its conclusion. They said nothing of course, but watching the rumors expand and grow greater was fun in its own way. Miko had a blast making everything FAR more serious than it actually was, even going so far as to claim that the attackers had been erased from reality. Mr. Pax for his part did nothing to disprove the claims or confirm them. He went on as usual and paid the rumors no mind. He had classes to teach after all.
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drabblesandimagines · 7 months
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400 request! joshuaXreader where he lets our dear reader on his back when he’s primed as the phoenix and they go on a cute romantic flying date ^^
Thanks, anon! I hope you like it - do pop me an anon ask and let me know x PS: Let's pretend that Joshua priming doesn't exacerbate the curse in this drabble! Elevation Joshua Rosfield x fem reader, fluff 1,078 words - spoilers obvs
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You hadn’t been well, which had been alarming for Joshua to experience. Usually it was him who was being sent off to bed, told to down vials of foul-tasting elixirs as you sat by his bedside, holding his hand, encouraging him to rest. For roles to be reversed had been completely foreign. He’d sat by your side all night when you were in the throes of fever, insisting to Tarja he could handle it, holding a damp cloth to your forehead that he refreshed with cool water periodically as you tossed and turned.
He'd muttered reassurances to you the whole time - of how he was there, how that when after you were fully recovered, he’d take you wherever you wanted to go, do whatever you wanted to do.
“Wanna fly.” You blurt out, eyes still closed.
“What was that, sweet one?”
“Fly. Like the Phoenix.” Your words are mumbled, your cheeks flushed red. “Be free.”
“Then that is what we shall do.”
“Promise?” Your eyes open then, seeking his gaze.
His hand cups your chin, tilting your face gently in his direction. “I promise.”
Your fever had broken at dawn – thank the Founder – but you appeared to have no recollection of the night.
Though, a little detail like that wouldn’t stop Joshua keeping his promise.
--
He smiles looking back at you, continuing to tug you forward by your hand up the hill. He’s been in a giddy mood all morning, saying he has a surprise planned. It’s the first time you’ve been out of the Hideaway in almost two weeks, but he won’t tell you where you’re going, despite your repetitive questions.
You reach the top at last, feeling a little breathless after your period of convalescence. The view is incredible – the skies clear and you can see for miles. The Hideaway is nice but being located in the middle of the lake, it had begun to feel a little claustrophobic.
“It’s beautiful, Joshua. Is this my surprise?”
“Not quite,” he lets go of your hand. “Do you trust me?” He takes a step back from you, has that look on his face, a boyish grin – the one that spells – no, screams - trouble, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“You know I do.” You reply, cautiously. “Why do you ask?”
“When you were sick, sweet one, I made you a promise.”
“I’m afraid I don’t recall. What was it?”
It is as if it happens in slow motion. He takes a step back towards the cliff’s edge and a moment later he vanishes from view and your heart stops. There’s a flash of blinding light and then a cry, though not a human one. The Phoenix, in all its glory, swoops up a fair few metres above your head, stretching out its wings.
“Joshua,” your heart is pounding. “That was mean.”
“Sorry, love,” his voice echoes around your head, chuckling – something to do with the aether. He swoops up and around in a circle, before landing gracefully a little downhill from you – careful not to knock you down with the tailwind and lays down, tucking his wings into his side. “But I did say I would help you fly.”
Your face goes red, though surely he’s too far away now to notice. “I asked you for that?”
“You did, so allow me to keep my promise.”
“I…” You start walking back down the hill towards him.
“You said you trusted me.”
“I do, but-”
“I wouldn’t drop you.”
“No, it’s not that.” You stop by his side. You hadn’t seen him this close when primed before and it is truly an awe-inspiring sight to see the Phoenix, the way its entire body ripples with almost ethereal light. “Won’t I… hurt you?”
“Of course not. I carried Clive, Jill, Dion and Goetz without a problem from Twinside, after all. All you’ll need to do is hold on tight.”
“How do I…?”
“Just climb on my back and sit upon my shoulders.” Joshua’s voice echoes around your head once more, his feathers ruffling up with excitement. You bite your lip in thought – you’d be a liar if you haven’t daydreamed about what it would be like, but it still feels wrong. Being the Dominant of the Phoenix brings a lot of weight of responsibility as it is without entertaining your whimsical fantasies.
“Sweet one,” Joshua almost trills. “Please.”
You place a hand on the Phoenix’s back – softer than you’d imagined and cautiously throw a leg up and over as best you can, praying you didn’t dig your heels in too tight.
“Perfect. Now, hold on tight.” You bury your hands in his feathers – there’s almost a scruff around his neck that you grip into.
“Does that hurt?”
“It tickles more than anything. Are you ready? I’ll go slow.”
“R-ready.” The nerves betray you, but the Phoenix gets to its feet, flapping its wings and you dig your fingers in more, trying to feel more secure. You barely get a moment to readjust as he begins to run, before swooping down off the side and glides.
The adrenaline, the wind rushing by your face steals your breath – you’d be screaming if you could. The feeling is exhilarating, indescribable as Joshua turns, gracefully, swooping down close to the waters below and then with a great flap of his wings ascends skyward once more.
“Speechless?”
“Very,” you reply, unsure if he’ll have even heard. Your heart swells as he loops around in a circle – it’s amazing, far more than anything you could’ve dreamed of.
“Joshua Rosfield!” Clive’s voice echoes around the valley, impossibly loud and the Phoenix drops height in alarm – not expecting to hear his brother’s call. He glides down with less grace than before back to the ground and lands with a little bit of a bump and the Eikon vanishes, leaving Joshua in its place. The two of you tumble, head over heels, down the slope, somehow wrapped in each other’s arms. You come to a stop, Joshua leaning over you, a sheepish grin on his face as the two of you try to catch your breath.
“Sorry.”
“That was… I mean…” You can’t wrap your head around it. “Thank you.” You pull him forward by his collar, pressing a short-lived kiss against his lips, the two of you still breathless. “I’ll never forget it.”
“Good. Because,” he nods down the hill, “from the scowl on Clive’s face, I doubt I’ll be permitted to do that again any time soon.”
--
Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x
Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi
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scuttlingcrab · 3 months
Text
Mortals
A Warlock is Born
Summary: Korrilla summons Raphael to aid her in a fight at the Devil’s Fee. Raphael recruits a new warlock to his cause.
Notes: This is part of an ongoing collection of short stories focusing on Raphael and the mortals who have impacted him throughout his existence. Each little story loosely ties into the main plot of Baldur’s Gate 3. The second part will be out soon! 
The first story, The Curse of Lady Luck, can be found here. You do not need to read them in order, as each story is stand-alone.
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(Image via breadandbloodybutter)
Raphael’s spine tingled when he felt Korrilla’s summons. There was a sharp tug at his chest, attempting to pull him towards her requested destination. Not now, imprudent creature. He anchored himself in his chair, falling back into a trance as he stared at his latest painting. His eyes danced over the thick swirling brush strokes and the vibrant oranges and reds of the setting sun.
He had positioned his easel on a hill near Neverwinter, a superb location overlooking the Trackless Sea. Raphael’s preferred spot for seclusion and indulging in mortal leisure pursuits, one of his many guilty pleasures.
The sky was ablaze around Raphael but there was no blistering heat. Instead it was juxtaposed with a gentle breeze that cooled his skin as he watched the sun disappear behind the horizon. There was no equivalent in Avernus, where the raging skies barely changed save for a sparse cloud or two that brought iron rain and the occasional arcane thunderstorm.
Fiery oranges clashed with dark blues and light purples as they fought for the dying attention of the sun. The ocean waves were calm, mirroring the chaos in the skies so perfectly that it looked like an infinite void. Raphael’s mouth salivated as he took it in. He must capture it all, a perfect addition to his ever growing art collection.
Raphael carefully picked up his paintbrush, as if it might crumble with the slightest change of pressure, and dabbed the tip of it in paint. The final stroke. As Raphael brought the brush to his canvas, Korrilla’s second summons tore through his body. He winced as his chest heaved forward, nearly sending him tumbling down the hill. His body flickered between both locations, a loud ringing pierced the air as he got glimpses of Korrilla’s face and the Devil’s Fee; her eyes frenzied, lips tight, she tried shouting something at him but Raphael snarled in response. Her image dissolved as he fought to stay centred in Neverwinter.
When Raphael blinked again, he found himself on the ground and the canvas in tatters beneath him. Raphael had punched a hole through the painting during his struggle against Korrilla’s beckoning. His hands trembled as he picked up the demolished canvas. He could fix it with a snap but that would simply be cheating. Raphael’s jaw locked and he dug his heels into the grass, the soil beneath him bubbling like lava.
“Will this infernal torment ever cease!” 
Raphael roared, his voice booming throughout the deserted beach, louder than any thaumaturgy spell could ever hope to achieve. His canvas caught fire; his work, his precious sunset, dissolving in an instant. Whatever was left of his wasted afternoon blew away with the next breeze.
Raphael rose, his footsteps scorching the grass as he turned away from the ocean. He raised his arm, preparing to furiously snap his fingers but halted, eyes darting to his sleeves, then to his entire doublet, and trousers. He was covered in paint and dirt, his outfit wrinkled and soiled, as if he was a petty commoner. He huffed, disgusted with himself. How very mortal. 
With a snap, Raphael undefiled his clothes, rectifying any hint of failure. He narrowed his eyes, unsure yet of the punishment he would bestow on Korrilla as he vanished into a deafening inferno. 
––
“Korrilla! Did I not explicitly–”
Raphael emerged from his fiery portal and was immediately met with a blaze not of his making. Chaos and disorder welcomed him as he stood agape in the entranceway of the Devil’s Fee. 
The diabolist shop was in ruin. A massive bookshelf on the far left of the room was the main source of fire; the flames grew, slowly licking their way across the ceiling. Raphael stepped forward, his feet crunching against broken glass and stone rubble from the shattered infernal statues that had once proudly stood high. 
One of Helsik’s gilded imps lay mangled in the centre of the room, its body tangled in silk rugs and surrounded by deep claw marks on the parquet flooring. The reception desk was nonexistent, the only remains of the rich mahogany panelling were the sharp splinters scattered across on the floor. 
Raphael’s imagination spun like dice as he observed Helsik’s unconscious body discarded in the far back of the shop, a fallen shelf sat atop her small frame. No amateur could get the better of Helsik, surely? Raphael’s interest had piqued, however he found himself gritting his teeth in frustration as he looked around for Korrilla. She would not get out of this so easily, even in death. 
There was a loud crash from the second floor, glass shattering and muted sounds of struggling; grunting, kicking, the wood creaking above him with every faint movement. In a heartbeat, Raphael was up the stairs. He crept towards Helsik’s quarters, the door to her room falling off its hinges. 
Korrilla was pushed into the far corner of the dining area, her face battered and bruised and her dress nearly burnt to a crisp. A scrawny half-elf gripped a curved dagger at Korrilla’s throat, drawing blood that trailed down her neck. The half-elf had a round youthful face and donned a messy bob. Korrilla outsmarted by that half-breed? A runt of the litter, at best. 
Korrilla’s eyes lit up when she spotted Raphael lurking at the threshold. He did not acknowledge her in return, but continued to focus on the half-elf. His pupils dilated, exuberance simmering inside him as he observed this potential new investment. 
“What an interesting turn of events.” Raphael proclaimed, as he entered the stage with a swagger. 
The half-elf jumped like a spooked rabbit at Raphael’s words, quickly shimmying so that Korrilla’s body was now in front of her. The half-elf squeezed the dagger a bit more into Korrilla’s neck, causing her to grimace. 
“Please, don’t let me stop you.” Raphael guffawed, “I do love a good show.”
Korrilla’s brows furrowed and she bit her lip, any ounce of relief Raphael had brought quickly drained from her face. 
“What I find most curious… is if Korrilla couldn’t kill you, then you must have some talent. Yes? And besting Helsik? She will not be happy when she wakes. Even so, it is amusing to see the Devil’s Fee in such shambles. I’ve often dreamed of this day.” Raphael suppressed another chuckle.
The half-elf met Raphael’s calm visage with fierce eyes and determination. A creature yet to be tamed. This will be most enjoyable. 
“Cat got your tongue? No bother. You will drop that weapon, pretty little thing, before we continue our game.”
“And if I don’t?” The half-elf responded, voice low and quivering.
“I’m afraid you’ll find a very unpleasant end to your miserable little existence. And it will be such a waste, as I hope to make some use out of you.”
The half-elf stared at Raphael, her expression unchanging. 
“Did I forget to note that my patience is wearing thin?” Raphael spoke through pursed lips.
Korrilla’s face twisted as Raphael folded his arms, sensing his impending outburst. 
The wood underneath Raphael’s feet started to smoke as he took a step forward, leaving charred marks in his wake. The half-elf sniffed the air as Raphael approached, her eyes growing in size. Raphael took another step and transfigured into his cambion form, loosening his neck as his wings filled the available space. His tail thrashed and his horns grated against the ceiling like nails on a chalkboard.  
“Drop the weapon.” 
The half-elf released the dagger, kicking it across the room. She raised her hands and backed away from Raphael. 
“I yield.” 
Raphael simpered.
“Wise.” 
Korrilla stumbled forward at her release. She held a hand to the wound in her neck muttering a healing spell to seal it. 
“And YOU!” Raphael rumbled, louring to Korrilla. “You simply couldn’t take care of this creature? You do not know what I have sacrificed to come to your beck and call. Your worth is diminishing, Korrilla.” 
“Please accept my sincerest apologies, Raphael. I await whatever punishment you see fit for my errors.” Korrilla immediately bent the knee, staying submissive and daring not to move even a muscle. 
“We will discuss your punishment later.” 
Raphael stepped away from Korrilla, edging closer to the half-elf. 
“Your name. Now.” 
“Dolofina.” 
“Dolofina…” Raphael repeated, chewing her name in his mouth. 
Raphael raised his hand dramatically above Dolofina. She watched his movement, shrinking away in anticipation. Raphael bared his claws and paused, leaving his hand extended. Just one more moment… let her think it’s the end… Then with a sly smirk, he snapped his fingers and the pair vanished.
––
Raphael and Dolofina materialised in a rain of sparks, dropping into the central chamber of the House of Hope. The large circular table in the middle of the room, usually decorated with platters of delectable food and drink, was bare. A boring sight no less, but he had no time to waste on formalities today.
Dolofina fell to her knees on the polished marble floor, her thump reverberating throughout the vacant halls. Raphael saunted past her, moving towards the wall near the open hearth. He pressed his palm against one of the paintings and it popped open, revealing a hidden bar behind it. 
“Your poison of choice?” Raphael asked, as he uncorked a bottle of Jasmarim Shadow, letting it breathe while readying a glass for himself. 
Dolofina remained on her knees, panting heavily, her hair slick with sweat. Her face grew paler as she shook her head vigorously at Raphael’s hospitality. 
“Oh? Are we not up for celebratory drinks?”
Dolofina floundered to her feet, retching over the balcony. 
“Poor creature. Some get used to the sweltering heat of Avernus. Others simply learn to tolerate it. I can’t make any guarantees.” 
Raphael poured the wine into his glass, savouring the glugging sound that issued from the bottle. Ah, sweet music. He swirled the beverage gently before bringing his nose close to the rim. He inhaled, smiling to himself before taking a sip. 
“Exquisite. Rich and delicate, teases your senses, and makes you crave more, even after the bottle is finished. You can’t find an intoxicant like this anymore.”
Dolofina clung to the railing, dry heaving. 
Raphael closed the painting and sat down on the studded leather couch underneath it, crossing his legs. His eyes surveyed Dolofina, observing every inch of her taut body, her once tall figure now reduced from the heat. What a gaunt little thing, and yet with so much joie de vivre.
He never tired of a mortal’s first introduction to the Hells. Most creatures reacted the same way, with their slight variations. Weeping, laughing hysterically at their fates, one poor sod even had a heart attack and expired in front of Raphael; luckily he had been expeditious to secure the deal so the soul wasn’t squandered. Yes, it was quite cruel, but his infernal blood thirst for the entertainment, the anguish. And oh, the mortal perspiration was mouth-watering. 
“Pray tell, what was so important in the Devil’s Fee that you had to risk it all?”
Dolofina wiped her lips with the back of her hand before steadying herself against the balcony. She hesitantly removed a large diamond from her pocket, holding it between her thumb and index finger. Raphael lazily flicked a wrist and the diamond flew into his hands. Dolofina shrieked, attempting to grab it back.
“Oh, you’re joking?”  
Raphael observed the diamond in his palm, rolling his eyes. 
“I… needed money. They said the Devil’s Fee was an easy target.” 
Raphael squeezed the diamond and his hand was suddenly engulfed in a white inferno. He watched the fire dance around his hands, the sensation tickling his knuckles, before it turned into a striking blue flame that somehow burned even brighter. He released his fist, the blaze dissolved and the diamond vanished, without even a trace of ash. Raphael rubbed his hands together, that was that.
“Twas worthless anyways. Mortals, always attracted to shiny little things of almost no importance.” 
Dolofina stared at Raphael, her face contorted with rage, nostrils flaring. There she is. There’s the fight.
“That was mine. I nearly died retrieving it.” 
“Nothing belongs to you anymore. I am not in a generous mood today, yet your antics have inspired me. I can make use of someone like you. Under my employment, you won’t be resorted to thievery.”
“I don’t work with devils.”
“Oh, is that so?”
Dolofina’s new contract appeared on the table with a low hiss, a quill floating beside it. Raphael didn’t even bother snapping his fingers, his painting, or the lack thereof, lurked at the back of his mind; taunting him, the wound stinging his ego.
“Today’s your lucky day. Refuse, and I strike you down where you stand and consume your soul as a measly canapé. Accept, and you get patronage. Power. Proficiency. And a longer life expectancy.”
“And you want what exactly? My soul?”
“Your soul and your cooperation. You will answer to me and act as my agent. There is a war of the millenia brewing and I need all the strongest fighters. You could become a champion, you know, there is a lot of potential.” 
Dolofina peered over her shoulder, her eyes darting for any possible escape, a window, a door… that glimmer of hope Raphael loved to see sucked away from mortals still lingered on her face. Say goodbye to hope, little pet.
“Signature please, and your life will begin anew.”
Dolofina bit the side of her lip as she inhaled, looking up at the ceiling, as if pleading to the Gods for a last minute intervention. Her green eyes met his as she dragged her feet towards the table. 
“Fucking Nine-Fingers…” Dolofina whispered to herself, “I’ll ring her bloody neck the next time I see her.” 
Dolofina sank into one of the leather chairs in defeat, then signed herself away to Raphael. 
“I will say this only once. In my house there is decorum. There are rules. There is a balance to uphold. If you make the same mistake as you did above, steal from me, even think about breaking the terms of our contract, you will wish for the sweet release of death by the time I am finished with you. Do not make me regret this decision.”
Raphael waved away the contract and Dolofina instantaneously fell to the floor, screaming in agony. Her body convulsed as if she was bewitched and she writhed in pain, tears pouring down her red cheeks. The veins in her legs briefly pulsed, turning dark purple as it continued to grow, slowly travelling up her body. Her hand reached out, as if seeking Raphael’s aid and instead, shot out a crackling bolt of purple lightning at the ceiling, shattering one of the metal chandeliers. It came crashing down next to Raphael, missing him by mere inches. He titled his head to the floor, eagerly watching his new pet, as he took a sip of wine.
“What the–!”  Dolofina screamed again as her body accepted the new torrent of power. 
“You will need training. I know the perfect teacher, and I think you’d get along splendidly.” 
Will be continued.
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reilliane · 1 year
Text
Septem (ii) ⊱⊰ Genshin!Various
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✤ she/her - ✤ words: 8k
PART 02 OF 02 - [ PART ONE ]
✤ An Academy built to hone and prepare gods-to-be and blessed mortals for the world beyond — isn't it a dream come true, when a blank Vision greets you in invitation?
✤ kaeya, chongyun, mika, diluc, bennett, thoma, venti, kazuha, xiao, heizou, scaramouche/wanderer, aether
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“Ad Astra.”
To your astonishment, the rays flashed even brighter, they've become so blinding that you had to close your eyes.
Only when it has dimmed to a considerable degree are you able to blink and adjust your sight, feeling an incomprehensible frisson in your chest.
Is this what magic feels like? You ponder in awe as the [c] light of your Vision beats at a steady rhythm, like a heart. It floats back down to your waiting hands.
“Septem Academy welcomes you, [Surname] [Name].”
The Sustainer smiles, golden eyes appearing even warmer than before as she beckons the four behind her to make way down the carpeted center of the gathering hall.
They do as she says, following shortly after you tail along.
“As you have just recently enrolled, the classes may be too advanced, so until you've caught up, you will stay at the Hearth and learn at your pace until it's fit for you to attend class in the campus. I will have the professors know and send in the syllabuses. Of course, you are free to enter the campus library to study if you so wish.”
Down an enclosed corridor that's only lit by torches with seven respective flame colors, you cannot help the wonder that blossoms inside. Eventually, enormous double doors are reached at the end, opening on their own to reveal a brightly illuminated room.
It is circular and open spaced—a huge gazebo, if you will. In between each marble columns stand seven tall mirrors, each accented and arrayed accordingly.
A moment is needed for you to notice that beyond the place is the celestial body itself, the skies. Rolling clouds complement the azure canvas, touched with a ray of the sun.
You wonder if the eventide will be just as majestic.
“Now, unveil your Vision.”
A sense of nervousness and excitement causes your fingers to tremble in the slightest, unwrapping from the Vision that now thrums with life. The glow of white dies down, eventually marking out a detailed insignia that has your eyes widening.
The Sustainer lifts her hand, and with a voice that commands the heavens, announces.
“Ab intra—”
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— Kaeya/Chongyun/Mika
“Hearth Cryo!”
Crystalline snowflakes burst from nonexistence, languid with its descent that commemorates the arrival of another student acknowledged by dichotomy—governed by resolve.
It's cooling, in fact, the entire hall has been engulfed by a passing blizzard, not too much to the point of turning blue... but heavens, that was cold.
You let out a shiver at it.
After informing you that the corresponding Master has been summoned, the Sustainer vanishes into red cubes, followed by the rest of the cloaked figures that disappear through their respective mirrors after a bode of farewell and welcome.
The very moment they have gone, the mirror's surface in front of you—that's adorned in silver thorns and deep blue roses—starts to be enveloped by frost. You fear that it'd burst into shards, so you take a wary step back, only to gawk when a figure passes through with ease, frost clinging onto her body.
It billows away without even needing to be brushed off, as though they're mere fairy dust. The woman hums at you, mien coming off as captious that you instinctively straightened up. She cocks an eyebrow, looking almost bemused.
“If you keep on gawking, I'll have no choice but to vow vengeance upon you, so I suggest you start moving pronto.”
You stiffen. “Yes, ma'am!”
Shoot, I can't afford to make a bad impression right away-!
Far from being prepared at her promise of vengeance, you scurry forward, Vision in hand, towards the mirror that she gestures to. You begin to worry for yourself almost immediately, but held back from thinking too much — just be rational, and you'll do fine!
Passing through the frosty mirror, you land on soft snow, upheld by a sturdy grip on your arm. “Dear me, Eula, were you frightening the newcomer again?”
“Be quiet, Kaeya. The sooner she gets here, the better.”
Hearth Cryo's gateway is in the form of a wooden archway at the end of a forest. The winter is seemingly endless and the snowfall is heavy, though the cold isn't as biting as you thought it'd be.
Looming in the distance is a fortified castle, mighty and lonesome, it exudes the impression that it is built to defend its inhabitants from the bitter cold—or perhaps even something more?
Eula thankfully enlightens you more after catching the curio in your gaze. The Hearth isn't always in a winter stasis. In fact, it mirrors the real world the most out of the rest of the Hearths, which she mentions is always in an 'impossibly good weather'. Hearth Cryo goes through the usual four seasons, it just so happens that you manage to land in winter.
You do not know what to expect of the hearthmembers, so you're somewhat blundered when you get to see them all for the first time. They are all so... different.
You suppose that it's understandable—after all, wasn't this Hearth acknowledged by dichotomy? When you come to introduce yourself, you also did not expect their thorough introductions. Kaeya merely says that it's what makes them as tight-knit as a Hearth; everyone being so different, yet similar in the one aspect that they face significant contradictions. To an awful, almost upsetting degree.
Really, the sentimental bomb is too big of a drop, you feared they saw the glassy sheen in your eyes. You eventually understood then, that the castle sort of signified everyone's defense from the ghastly paradox thrown to them by fate.
“Heh, interested in me, are you? Oh? Don't tell me you're getting emotional over everyone? You're amusing. They may not express it well, but I'm sure that your arrival has brought some warmth this winter.”
Kaeya Alberich—you question why he's in the Academy despite already having such a nice grasp of his Vision, and he only laughs. He says that the reason is solely because he's part of an exchange program, and officially belongs to Aurum College—an educational institution for the 'magicless yet gifted'. In other words, he hailed from Khaenri'ah, a far, far away nation.
He is on his way to graduate and be a part of the Knights Brigade there, until he was suddenly blessed with a Vision. Thus, he has been sent here to master the element until it is time to return. He has a fellow Aurum student, apparently, one in Hearth Geo.
Despite being such an enigmatic man, sometimes he doesn't seem to have a filter with his words at all, bluntly stating that other than the reason for mastering his Vision, he wants to find out how the 'blessed mortals favored by gods' actually act like.
It isn't surprising; you know that the people are torn between liking and disliking the ostensibly 'biased' concept of being granted elemental magic. Everyone has dreams of their own, so why isn't everyone blessed with magic?
Kaeya enlightens you of everything that goes about Aurum College and how he personally views 'blessed mortals' in your free time. He finds some to be a bit uptight and insufferable, but nothing drastic at all—for deep down, magicless or not, everyone is human. Save for the Hearthleaders, of course. When you jokingly asked if you're a part of the group that he finds insufferable, he only gives a charmingly annoying smile. Darn him and his flirty tendencies... if Rosaria was around (and that one man from Hearth Pyro) then he'd be forced to spill!
“It's just me... ! I- My deepest apologies, I didn't mean to scare you. I give the place a thorough look over before turning in for the night. Mm? Well, believe it or not, the castle's supernatural activity spikes in the evening... even the campus'.”
It completely blew past your mind that Chongyun patrols the castle halls in the dead of night, so when you got a little peckish at midnight and aimed to grab some snacks from the distant pantry... you nearly shrieked upon spotting a terrifying blur of blue zooming past like a ghost.
If not for the candle he held nearby, you would've screamed and alerted everyone! Poor Chongyun looks just as spooked as you are though, but was much better in concealing his surprise. Shenhe, his aunt, unfortunately caught the both of you like deers in headlights.
Rosaria and Shenhe frequently joins him in this trip, see, and so they catch you wandering the halls late in the night some time again. They invited you along and you agreed! A late night adventure it is! They might have an old-fashioned way of exorcising things, but they're geared with literal ghost hunting equipment! Chongyun once expressed resigned amusement when you eagerly waited for him to explain what all the whatchamacallits do, saying you remind him of a friend.
He also says that this duty is something that he must see through until graduation, for there really are spirits roaming around in the night that needs to be exorcised or appeased lest they cause trouble. He mentions that they are ancient souls that were defeated in a long forgotten war... ooh, shivers.
At nights when you get drowsy in the middle of your 'trips', he'd gladly sit with you somewhere and let you take a nap as he tells ghost stories (and about his other friends from other Hearths). Sometimes he'd even carry you back to the castle if it feels like you're going to sleep the whole night away. He won't be able to look at you in the eye without turning into a tomato the next morning, though!
“[N-Name]... ? I noticed that you were struggling in your subjects earlier... so, do you- um-! Will you let me help you? Only if you want to, of course, I'm not coming off as demanding am I? I really only want to help- I- I'm rambling!!”
Mika is such a sweet bean. You made the mistake of calling him as such and he became putty, unable to construct intelligible sentences and even glance you without squeaking.
He becomes a completely different person when it comes to learning, however, almost like he's possessed with a spirit of vigor! He's talented in all classes except for communication-centered ones... he tries his best, though!
Along with Ganyu and Layla, he asks to tutor you after noticing the struggle to catch up with the rest and looks utterly relieved when you accepted the offer. Eula teased him about it in your presence and he fainted, literally, so you had to take him to the campus infirmary. He woke up midway and when he realized that you were carrying him there... fainted again.
Seriously, you thought he has a weak heart! Kaeya couldn't stop laughing about it, much to sweet Mika's embarrassment. It's safer to actually let it happen than to come to his defense, Ayaka once did so and the blond could only malfunction further.
He hides away in the archives of the castle, busying himself with maps of Old Teyvat that he was so engrossed in and charting possible maps of the regions beyond by reading available information. Regardless if it's on paper or in his tablet, his works are guaranteed to have intricacies. It is an interesting thing that he does that you're in awe of. Now, if only you know more about him other than his love for such things... maybe he'll eventually open up?
You've asked about the whereabouts of your Hearthleader, but even your fellow hearthmates know little about her other than the fact that she's undergoing 'executive training' under the current Archon of Snezhnaya and won't be back until months later.
Everyone doesn't really get together like most hearths do, no special and fancy celebrations other than what is already tradition, like New Year's and Christmas. Not like it matters, for everybody already is close to one another even if it doesn't seem like it.
They all are present for every breakfast and dinner—and everyone even goes to campus together! They're such a sweet bunch, Eula comments that she'll have ants all over her what with the found family dynamic. Everyone knows she's just as glad, though.
... That is, if the Hearth is in order.
There will be a blizzard outside and everyone by the fireplace will be engaged in light banter, bundled in blankets.
“Hydro Seniors are at it again with Dendro, did you see them almost sparking another debate in the cafeteria?” “I certainly did. Ayaka, your brother has a sharp tongue when it comes down to it, doesn't he?” “Indeed... he doesn't intend to cause harm, however. In fact, I believe he fancies the academic rivalry that's proceeding.” “At least your brother doesn't mean any harm with it, unlike Kaeya who likes to pick up a fight with Ragnvindr... Eula, how are you not punishing him for this?” “Rosaria! Hey now! That's no fight. Diluc and I are merely having a wholehearted conversation.” “Even if I did, it's not like he'll stop. Leave him to it, vengeance will be served soon, anyway... ah, Ganyu, Shenhe, how are things going on your end?” “Certainly well! I've managed to work around the stress of so many papers so I had some decent sleep lately.” “But you were awake yesterday night until three in the morning? My nephew and I saw light in your room while going about the castle.” “Yes... we heard some grumbles, as well... we thought it was a spirit until we realized that it was just Ganyu fussing over her projects with Layla.” “S-Shenhe, Chongyun, shhh... !” “Lying won't work at all, you're caught red handed~” “It could not be helped! I was helping Mika research about something, too, so-!” “Ganyu, that was supposed to be a secret!” “Wow, I need some wine for this- hey, Kaeya!” “Everyone, tone down! I cannot believe you all started falling apart and [Name] hasn't even been here for a full week yet! Mark my words, vengeance will be-!” “Yes, yes, Master.” “Alberich... !”
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— Diluc/Bennett/Thoma
“Hearth Pyro!”
Balls of fire spew from nonexistence, blistering with its heat that commemorates the arrival of another student blessed with resolution—governed by cathexis.
Oddly enough, they aren't burning hot at all. The heat that it carries is tender, like the cozy warmth from a fireplace, it's utterly comforting. It very much feels as though you are being gazed upon by a kind sun.
After informing you that the corresponding Master has been summoned, the Sustainer vanishes into red cubes, followed by the rest of the cloaked figures that disappear through their respective mirrors after a bode of farewell and welcome.
A girl with pretty pink hair passes through the mirror to your left, nodding in what you can assume is content as she takes in your appearance. “[Surname] [Name], correct? I'm Yanfei, I'll be guiding you to our Hearth.”
“It's nice to meet you,” you return her nod as you walk closer, examining the mirror in great detail. It is coated in gold, with fragments and shards floating about in a bright scarlet glow.
“Same here!”
Rubies, maybe? Or firestones?
Catching the awe in your gaze, she giggles, proud. “Pretty, isn't it? Our Hearth is even prettier! Come, let's not keep them waiting any longer. Everyone's pretty excited that we're having someone new, you know?”
Ah, that's good to hear. It's comforting to know that they're all open to someone who has practically appeared out of the blue.
“Alright, then!” you return her smile, letting her go first before following shortly behind.
Warmth is the very first thing that welcomes you, tolerable and actually faint, like you're bundled in a blanket. The next thing, is a bright light that nearly blinds you had your eyes not adjusted.
A series of greetings are soon heard, all with varying levels of excitement.
Yanfei isn't kidding when she said that Hearth Pyro is really pretty. An extravagant, rustic-style mansion (goodness, you think it's even bigger than a mansion) stands before you. A column of arches draped with crystals line up to the front porch, with enormous trees bearing gold and scarlet leaves seen all about the place.
Also, was that a pheonix flying by just now? Alas, there is little time to be astounded, because you're hearing calls from all sorts of directions.
Your hearthmates' smiles are blinding (save for that well-composed man at the back and that twin-tailed girl's... devilish grin-) as they gather around, tugging you to the mansion as if you're someone they knew from long ago. Their cordial behavior is uplifting, you can't help but be put at ease.
Right then and there, you just know that there won't be any rainclouds over your head—not when everyone is a ray of sunshine. You didn't even think it was possible for so many friendly people to be in a single place! Is this what a good world looks like?
Hearth Pyro already feels like home. There is just something about it that carries such comfort. Not to mention, the hearthmembers' personalities. They even threw you a welcome party!
They are the friendliest out of all the Hearths and you aren't surprised. You also learn that they host most of the school events, serving as emcees and even mediators for clashing Hearths. Which, again, isn't surprising at all.
“Good morning. I take it that you had a good night's rest? Oh, I'm an early riser, I just got back from the campus, here are your papers. Don't be nervous to ask if you need help understanding something.”
Diluc Ragnvindr, he's the heir to a hefty inheritance and is the next company head of Dawn Winery in Mondstadt. Familiarity did not strike a chord until you heard his surname and you almost freaked out. His father has commissioned you once to bake the sweets for an event, how can you not know of the Ragnvindr name? Though you've never met the son- until now, that is.
He's just as surprised, but admits that he's heard of you from his father. Along with the reveal of his name comes with his reason for studying in Septem; despite already having his future set in stone, he has revealed that he plans to be high in the ranks of the Favonius Brigade, as well.
Thus, if he isn't occupied with studying or other affairs pertaining to the wine industry—he expressed distaste in wine itself, which is surprising—he can be found in the campus' or the Hearth's barracks. If that 'annoyance' in Hearth Cryo is around the campus, then he won't stay and linger there anymore. If he's nowhere to be seen, then best to assume that he's holed up in another extravagant meeting outside the Academy.
You do wonder how he's able to stay at topnotch shape despite having at least more than five responsibilities, though. And when he finds out, he just chuckles, saying that such stresses are necessary if he seeks to see the fulfillment of his objectives.
Since he is more than aware of the weight of stress, he's extra heedful of everyone, always saying not to push themselves and take a rest. It's become a part of his routine to give aid—knowing that you will not ask him for help even if you clearly need it—and make you your preferred beverage in the mornings.
“Oh shoot, [Name], I'm sorry-! Oh go- is it- is it that hot?! Heck, of course it is, wait here, I'll go get the med kit! Then I'll treat you to the cafeteria to make up for it!”
You knew that Hearth Pyro is too good to be true, you just knew that there had to be something—or in this case, someone—that counters the good. And that's, ladies and gentlemen, bad luck in the form of a poor student, Bennett.
When Amber once told you to watch yourself around Bennett because you may get hurt, you didn't believe her- how can a sunshine bring you harm?! Yes, you ate those words the moment he spilled the coffees he was carrying onto you.
It was a disaster at the table and it was only six in the morning! Luckily, no one was awoken by both of your screeching. You've never heard someone apologize so quickly after slamming his head unto the floor (how is he not bleeding from that!?). Quick to defuse the situation, you tell him it's alright, he can't control his bad luck.
He means well, you know it, so how can you hold a grudge and be petty? Such a poor sweetheart! He makes up for it by buying you snacks from the canteen whenever he can, sometimes even staying up to keep you company. Movies? Movies!
Bennett has a heart of gold and you admire how he keeps his head up in spite of his bad luck. He does not stop trying, does not stop dreaming. You told him this once and his face glowed as red as the Vision strapped to his belt bag, spluttering incoherent sentences one after the other until ultimately—accidentally—knocking your pencil case off the table and- well, there goes your papers, too...
“Hey there! You didn't come down for dinner, so we all assumed you were busy studying. I brought you your meal! Oh, and I had the same professor when I took that class, I'll get my notes for you real quick, okay?”
Thoma seems to have a lot of time available despite being a full-time student in the Hearth- how the heck does he manage keeping track of his straight A's while maintaining the dorm pristine?
The chores are meant to be divided so why does he do it all?! When confronted about it he laughs it all away and says that everyone should just focus on whatever it is they're doing and leave the work to him, which is unacceptable! So, to sweet Thoma's chagrin, Diluc took over the cooking with Xiangling, Yanfei and Hu Tao were in charge of handling written affairs, Xinyan and Bennett dusted away the furniture, whilst Yoimiya and Amber tended to everyone's equipment weekly. Dehya is in charge of ascertaining the extracurricular activities delegated by the Council (Celestia) for the Hearth.
Thoma said that it was fine, but everyone knew how much he appreciated it despite him reasoning that it felt much like he's sinning(!?)—which resulted to laughter. He learned to ask for help eventually, much to the relief of many.
That doesn't mean that he's let go of his tendency to try and take a step further when it comes to helping others, however. He pins his focus on you whenever possible and you're truly thankful! After helping you settle in the Hearth, he accompanied you to the Atelier, a place where you buy other essentials. He even treated you to dessert and insisted that you need not pay him back!
He's an angel and everyone concurs. Though rivalries between Hearths are ineludible, no one ever sought him out to a magic battle or anything of the like. All students tolerate—if not like—this man. Goodness, even the professors are fond of him, what's his secret?!
Hearth Pyro is in charge of Septem's ceremonies, be it from the hosting of Spring Festival or the Magical Cotillion that's held the night before New Year's, everything falls in their hands. This entails that they have full authority over the themes and games, a lovely specialty of those in the Hearth.
Sadly, because of this, there are very few instances where everyone can take a breather, for the academy has frequent celebrations. Even so, this does not dampen everyone's spirits, because who says planning can't be fun?
It may not be to some, but this is Hearth Pyro, fun is its core!
Besides, the Headmaster said that if there are any leftover mora from the budget, it can be used by the members of Hearth Pyro however they see fit. A kind of compensation for all the work, without a doubt.
And oh, where that money goes... (karaoke, field trips, weekend getaways, a special tour in the Ragnvindr's Winery!?)
Additionally, since everyone is working and planning in one place, the opportunity for a huge slumber party is thrown, solely for members of the Hearth only!
With a movie playing in the background and pizza boxes open, everyone bundled in duvets on the floor and typing plans, ah, what a night!
“December... ah, we've to arrange the Magical Cotillion, right? How d'ya suppose we go about the theme this time?” “Not yet, Xinyan! We have Winter Cradle to go through first. It's taking place at the 15th... ooooh, what shall we do to make this exciting. Maybe another ghost event~” “Ah, I completely forgot about that! It's a good thing that it only takes up three days compared to Spring Cradle... you have any ideas, Thoma?” “Oh, oh! What if we have every Hearth participate in a cooking competition? We can have outsiders as judges! Don't we need to raise something for charity as well?” “You're just using this opportunity to cook, aren't you.” “Diluc!” “Well, Xiangling's idea doesn't sound half-bad. I don't think we ever hosted a cooking competition... in December.” “Hahaaa! That's 'cause things like that fit more in the Summer! But hey, a lil' deviation won't hurt anyone now, would it? Besides, if Thoma's handlin' it then no one will argue!” “We can be mellow with the second game for the next day, then. How does Elemental Trace sound to you, Yanfei?” “Dehya... isn't that the free-for-all game where you have to hide your Hearth flag and Leader while the enemy tries to capture them both? Should we allow element-infused paintballs this time, Yanfei?” “H-Hold on, how is that mellow-!?” “I don't see a problem with this at all, Dehya, a great idea! Don't worry, Amber, Septem is far from being mellow, anyway! Now, for the appropriate punishments for the losing teams... Headmaster asked us to try and strengthen the Hearths' camaraderie with one another, yes?” “I don't like where this is going...” “Winning Hearth is exempted. Losing Hearths will pair themselves up and room together in each other's dorms for two weeks.” “This is going to result to chaos... If Dendro and Hydro end up pairing together...” “Well, all the more reason to win, don't you think? We can ask the twins for help this time, we should make it complicated, hm~”
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— Venti/Kazuha/Xiao/Heizou/Scaramouche
“Hearth Anemo!”
Glowing feathers materialize from nonexistence, delicate with its descent that commemorates the arrival of another student blessed with ideals—governed by freedom.
You are unable to be in awe for much longer, for just as you are about to caress a feather that droops nearby, excited murmurs flood your hearing.
The Sustainer vanishes into red cubes after giving you an almost strained smile, followed by the rest of the cloaked figures that disappear through their respective mirrors after a bode of farewell and welcome. Well, one of the cloaked figures, a tall one with a molten gold Vision clipped at the front, rebukes.
“Do not tow the new student in your Hearth's knavery, let her focus.”
“Hey! Don't tell me what to do, I'll have you know, my Hearthmembers know when to behave!” responded the one that is now standing before you, huffing as the taller figure disappeared through his mirror.
You blink, stupefied. Ah, that was a warning and implication, wasn't it? Does it mean that the Hearth you've been sorted to often attracts trouble-?
“Hehe~ Hi there, [Name]!” wow, he has a beautiful set of eyes, “I'm Hearthleader Barbatos, but you can just call me Venti. I'm glad to have you as our newest addition!”
Venti is relentlessly shaking your hands with a bright grin. Although his visage leans more onto the cute side, with the way he winks at you, you're led to believe that he can be just as boyish if he wants to.
“Likewise,” you nod, unable to stave off the smile that tugs on your lips and he cheers. Immediately, he tugs you towards his mirror, one that emanated such a pleasant breeze that you can't help but sigh.
The Hearthleader catches onto this and puffs his chest out in pride with an even bigger grin than before, saying he's thankful that you liked the winds he's personally conjuring about. It's baffling, to suddenly know that he's been using his magic all along.
He laughs, his hand halfway through the mirror.
“Don't worry, I'll make sure you master the winds just as well, now, are you ready to go?”
You nod and he hums, taking a step inside. “Okay, you ready to fall out of the sky?”
“Yes— wait what-!?”
He pulls you inside, ignoring your demands for clarifications as he yells, “Here we go!”
Eyes snapped shut, your screams clash with his guffaws. Pride left forgotten, you cling onto your Hearthleader—as embarrassing as it is—as you both quite literally, fall out of the sky. The race of your heart drums in your ears as the wind envelops your freefall.
Upon Venti's insistence, you pry your eyes open and—woah. It doesn't even occur that you are still free-falling as you take in the breathtaking view; Hearth Anemo consists of large, floating islands, with the dorm itself standing on the biggest and central island.
The sky is the bluest shade there is, the clouds are as fluffy as cotton, and the cool wind never stops from breezing by—hold on, did a dragon just fly past?!
The sight of the entire place prevents you from noticing the hold your Hearthleader has on your waist, steady and gentle in your descent upon the lush, viridescent grass, where the rest of the hearthmembers wait. A kind blonde lady steadies you the moment your feet are on the ground, giving a lightly reprimanding look towards Venti, who only giggled.
With the way Jean—the Hearth Master—lectures him about your entry, you're led to believe that this is how everyone else is welcomed. An elfish thing to do, certainly, but you can't start to deny things—not when you learned to enjoy it. Albeit only in the last second.
The members of Hearth Anemo are... interesting. Aside from the ladies who are very well-mannered and decorous, the men, on the other hand... hm, is unique the word? They're a colorful, rowdy bunch, exhibiting lax with a touch of differing rascality.
“[Name]! [Name], what'cha doing- eh!? You're still studying? But you already passed your assignments, didn't you? Let's go do something, pleaaaaaaase! It's a Saturdayyyy!”
Most of the time, Venti does not act much like a Hearthleader, commonly found sprawled out on the sofa snoring away with his headset blaring music. He doesn't even make it into his room! By far, the most lenient out of all known leaders, as commented by Heizou.
Do not let it sway your belief that he's incapable of being earnest, though! He has his fair share of formidable moments, surfacing especially when it comes to matters regarding the nation he'll rule over soon, or when he seems to be reminiscing about something. It unsettles everyone—even Scaramouche—to a certain degree whenever it happens.
He may be high-spirited, but he's Menace #1. It is because of your dearly beloved Hearthleader that you grew paranoid enough to lock your bedroom door. The very morning after your welcome in the dorm, you wake up screaming because of a huge, huge dragon pushing his face to your window—courtesy of Venti, of course. It took only a matter of seconds for the rest of your hearthmates to scramble into your room, wielding questionable kitchen utensils from a whisk to a frying pan despite being half-asleep.
You cannot bring yourself to look at them in the eye because of embarrassment and Venti is just obnoxiously laughing away as if it's a daily occurrence! Sucrose shyly empathizes with you, saying that everyone practically went through the same thing and they've all forgotten to warn you about it last night.
Safe to say, you make sure to lock your room and windows after that, for though the Hearthleader manages to pull pranks even outside the safety of your room, you won't let him bother your sleep any longer! This results to him pawing the outside of your door as if he was a cat begging to be let in.
“The winds are lovely, aren't they? Their caress is comforting even in the eventide. Ah, yes, I can spend all afternoon basking here in solitude... feel free to stay, I do not mind at all.”
Whenever you feel stressed, burnt out, or just failing to be in the right spirits for the day, you seek Kazuha out. He just bears this kind of aura that doesn't fail to allay whatever weight is in your chest. Maybe it's the way he's always so at peace? Maybe his sweet smile?
He comes to you after the small party in honor of your arrival, ever so graciously asking if you'd allow him to help you settle in the dorms and with your studies. Why in Celestia's name is he so kind? Thus, for all that he has done, he has the honor of taking the first bite of the cake you made as thanks for everyone's pleasant welcome (all except for one).
Sucrose joins him in teaching you from time to time, and with their help, you easily manage to get a hang of the classes. Kazuha turns down your offer of payment each time, saying that it's only right for a fellow hearthmate to help another. Ugh, really!
When you aren't busy or being badgered by the rest of your hearthmates, he invites you to go out with him during the weekend, visiting his home nation whenever possible. He can't stick in one place, he says, so he finds the time to go out—it explains why if he's not helping you in your studies, then he might as well be deemed a missing person. Imagine your surprise when you find out that he likes taking naps in the middle of class, yet, his grades are excellent...
He's pretty old-fashioned, too, being all chivalrous and poetic you nearly thought he belonged in Hearth Hydro. You can't forget when he welcomed you in the dorm with a kiss to your knuckles. Kazuha is a sweet man, but with the way his eyes twinkled almost devilishly, you believe that he has his own hidden side of mischief.
“What are you doing out here at this hour? You need-... me? I don't need to tell you anything. Huh? You're a fool, sacrificing slumber just to what, stare at the moon? Wait, you... want me to join?”
He seems to dislike you, avoiding eye contact and sneering when you accidentally brush past him. This led to you steering clear, not liking the idea of burgeoning whatever enmity there is. It's not until you overhear Venti lecturing him about his 'rebarbative shyness' that you start assuming; maybe he's not that bad. Jean and Heizou backed this up, saying that Xiao does think nicely of you... only, he doesn't know how to express that.
You want to believe them, but it's hard when the student in question is glaring from across the breakfast table! Your muted tussle with him is peak entertainment for the rest in the Hearth, though. Scaramouche doesn't have the slightest bit of filter each time he laughs sardonically at the predicament—and that only worsened the glare on your person!? 〒▽〒??
Things change the night you wake up from a nightmare. Disfavoring the idea of heading back to sleep, you bundle yourself with a blanket and head out of the dorm into the comfort of the winds. You take the opportunity to walk around the entire Hearth, past the bridges connecting floating islands and mountains.
His presence surprises you as he, quite literally, jumps from the precipice of a mountain. The winds slowed and aided his descent, but holy smokes, how are his knees okay?! Your terrified expression causes him to scowl and... reprimand you for staying out so late? Huh? Is he concerned?
When he learns that you're awake because of nightmares, he grows silent, as if he can relate. His face turns pink when you invite him to stargaze as a way to pass the time. He vehemently refuses—but gives in after your silence, even lending you an earphone so you can listen to music! And so you both pass the night gazing at the night sky until you wake up to see the stupid grins of your hearthmates. Xiao may have avoided you out of embarrassment, but everything's good now, really!
“A trace of flour in your hair, an aroma of chocolate, hm, something tells me that you're quite an expert in baking sweets... oh, I'm right? Aha! But of course, my intuition never disappoints me. Say, will it be too much to ask you to bake something? I can help you out~”
He goes by the name of Shikanoin Heizou, but you know him as Menace #2. This man actively engages in pranks with Venti and is one of the main source of the Hearth's ensuing chaos, be it within the dorm itself or during competitions. He may not be a fan of physical confrontations, but he loves being subtle and 'harmless' when he messes around with other Hearths.
Contrary to his impish nature, he becomes pro-faced when he's in his specialized class, criminology. And in spite of still being a student, you hear that he has already made a name for himself outside the Academy. (Venti tells you that it's only because Heizou gets in the way of police officers, though.. and manages to catch the criminal before they can).
He's rather fearsome, what with his intuition and intellect. He gives off the impression of a slacker—and he does slack around, so how is it that he's still in the top of his specialized class, clashing with a silver-haired rival? Heizou once offered to teach you, with a price that he didn't bother elaborating on. Yeah, you didn't want to risk anything, so you turned it down, much to his laughter.
He, much like Venti, has a habit of dragging you around places for no reason. You're fine with it, until you both somehow ended up stumbling into a completely different mirror—and into Hearth Electro, where a silver-haired Master (is he that rival?) was a second away from enacting 'judgement' for crossing without notice.
To your complete horror, Heizou is only laughing as he tugs your wrist, dragging you along in your run/escape/hunt to find the portal that transports you back to the Paths Chamber. By the time you've both landed in the safety of the Hearth, he's still laughing. He promised to take over your chores for a week, though, so all's good and well. (Until he drags you somewhere again.)
“Winter Cradle begins weeks from now, it's a competition between Hearths, I expect you not to drag us down lest those pyromaniacs think up of some absurd punishment. Well? What're you gawing at? Move.”
Oh he hates you, alright—no, he despises you for sure! How do you know? Because when you came up to greet him during the welcome party, he sneered and told you to kindly [REDACTED] off and leave him the [REDACTED] alone, smiley face :)
You shouldn't feel too down though, assures Jean. 'Cause even if Scara 'hates' everyone, he'll learn to accept and 'tolerate' your presence in the Hearth. Yeah, you think it'll be a long time from now, so you try not to talk to him unless it's necessary.
Menace #3. Pushing people's buttons and riling them up must be his life mission, but unlike Heizou who doesn't mean any harm, this guy means it and is absolutely blunt when it comes to his comments (insults). He revels in seeing people pissed off and it has once led the Headmaster to confine the whole Hearth in their dorm for two weeks.
Though he butts head with Xiao a lot, it pales when he's up against that one ginger in Hearth Hydro. He'll be incessant with his goading and comments, but will stop when intercepted. When you went to stop him from picking a fight with Hearth Dendro's Buer—aka their Hearthleader—he only gave you a scowl before backing off. You received Jean and Venti's endless thanks afterward... and you end up being assigned as Menace #3's mediator slash personal 'i'm so sorry for him, he doesn't know what he's doing' speaker.
You don't realize that aside from some of the set rules in Septem and Hearth Anemo, he only listens to you—and Kazuha points it out during dinner. It isn't surprising to see Scara explode, but what catches everyone off-guard is seeing his red, red face. From then on, it isn't hard to notice how pink his cheeks go even if he's scowling at you. What's up with him?
Hearth Anemo has a tradition of spending time together. Happening at the end of each month, everyone will race around the whole Hearth, going through the main islands and the tiny other floating islets before leaping off the land and taking flight, sometimes crossing portals to other Hearths.
Sounds absurd? Well apparently, everyone has their own manner of 'flight' save for Heizou, Kazuha, and Jean (very swift runners), who channels Anemo on their feet so they can leap higher and jump from floating stones to another.
During your first race, Venti had you join him on the dragon during flight, alongside the runners whilst the rest fly along. Xiao and Scaramouche are arguing in mid air, whilst poor Sucrose and Faruzan—who are seated on a winged cube and prism—almost go deaf nearby.
It is incredibly relieving to just take to the skies and you saw the way everyone smiled—except for a certain someone—when you expressed determination to master the winds so you can fly alongside them next time.
“Hey, does anyone know where [Name] is? I've been searching for her all morning..” “Heh, maybe she's got enough of your face, Hearthleader. Didn't you wake her up with that dragon of yours again?” “Scaramouche, how awful of you to even assume such things! My dear hearthmember can't possibly be annoyed of me!” “No, I think he's right for once.” “Not you too, Xiao!” “U-um, if it helps... Master Jean and I saw her with the representatives in charge for finding the venue for the Magical Cotillion earlier..” “Hm, so she's with those from Hearth Pyro?” “No, Hearth Pyro is currently busy with Winter Cradle, so they asked some help in searching for a place-” “You guys! Kaveh just posted: #outwithnewstudent! #busydayahead #scoutingtonsofplaces #septemlife #alhaithambailedagain. She's with this Kaveh guy, the Ragnvindr, Hearthleader Morax, Mona, Cyno, and Alberich.” “Thank you for informing us, Heizou. What an odd line-up... so every Hearth has one representative. But I suppose it'll work out just fine since Kazuha went with her-” “Kazuha's with her!?” “What is with all this noise! I can't focus on my research if- hey, where are you all going? Woah-! Ah, Master Jean... they're all gone..” “... Well, since the boys left, it looks like you can focus on your work now.”
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— Aether —Bonus: Lumine [Platonic]
“... Null.”
The reveal stuns the four in cloaks, whispers and murmurs arising that does little to satisfy your confusion. Null? Does this mean that...
In all its incadescent glory, the glow of your Vision remains a still white, obstinate and unchanging to other known seven colors. I don't have a place here?
“This is most surprising... who would've thought that we'll have another case like this?” concern blooms upon discerning the conflict in the Sustainer's voice, who then gazes at you imploringly.
“I would like to apologize, dear, but as you do not belong to any known Hearths, you will...”
You stiffen. Ah, I know that coming here was too good to be true.
“... Be living at the campus itself.”
Wait—
“Excuse me?” you splutter. “I thought that- doesn't null mean nothing? How can I ever... with this?”
The white Vision that holds no insignia of any element proceeds to pulse as though it is your heart. It draws in the rest of the cloaked figures, whose whispers entail something about 'twins' and with you as another addition to the cryptic 'element'.
It ignites a sense of hope inside. Are they implying that you aren't the only one granted with the blankness of a gift?
Almost like the fair woman is attuned with your train of thoughts, she places a hand on your shoulder. “Before your arrival, twin siblings have come to grace the Academy with a similar conundrum, and their Visions...”
You, along with the four figures, flinch at the way cracks litter across the case of the gift- until it bursts- and disappears as though it wasn't there in the first place.
“... Much like yours, shattered and vanished,” she then takes your hand and turns it over to view the rhombus mark that has just recently appeared. “Then in its stead, a marking of sorts came.”
A four pointed star luminescent with pinks, blues, and violets glow on your palm, bright and telling.
The Sustainer dismisses the group of four shortly as you marvel at the enchanting sight of the prism-like mark. It's beautiful.
Alone with the golden-eyed woman, she leads you out of the Paths Chamber and back into the halls, threading across the grand interior of the Academy. No one is around, but you seem to hear the faintest sound of little children singing—well, you think it belongs to children.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you see a handful of tiny creatures wobbling about with equally tiny hats and a fixed smile. However, they scurry to hide whenever you try to catch them.
Eventually, after passing the many, many sections of the campus and heading up several floors through a hidden staircase that only appears when you step onto it, you reach the peak of the Academy itself.
Who would've thought that a living space will be here? Despite technically being a loft—a large, beautiful one that stretches throughout the whole floor—it feels homely. If not for the blessing of sight, and if you relied on the atmosphere alone, you would've believed this to be the house you grew up in. Preoccupied with marveling over the place, the sound of the names being called flies past your ears.
Well, until the Sustainer is tapping your shoulder and you're turning to set your eyes upon twin siblings.
“Someone else is actually just like us! Glad to meet you, I'm Aether. It gets a little lonely around here, Lumine's getting sad 'cause she doesn't have anyone to speak to other than me because it's not permitted to sleep over at other dorms- hey, stop hitting me- but it's the truth!?”
Somehow, the range and utility of elements come to both siblings with relative ease, unlike you. For this very reason, Aether helps you out with learning how to get the hang of each of them. This carries on even after you're finally permitted to learn in the campus, and he becomes some kind of guard whenever someone makes you too uncomfortable. The attention of being able to wield seven elements is suffocating.
In a surprising turn of events, this guy actually has the guts to skip class. Not often, but he does so if he feels like the day is too 'bland' for his tastes. He still aces his exams, though. The twins appear like role model students, but do people know that they're sharing food in the middle of class? No!?
In potionology, a class he excels in, he concocts the best of brews with little to no side effects at all. For the fun of it, he sometimes brews a potion that somehow works as a meal—it's strange, but hey! You and Lumine are starting to live off of it when spending all-nighters, much to his utter concern. You both need actual food, not potions! o(≧口≦)o
Curses! You really thought that he's the sweetheart between the twins, but he has a devilish side to him, huh? He just adores waking you up in the morning in a bunch of ways. Once, he teasingly roused you from your sleep whilst being close to your face (you couldn't face him for hours), and one time, he sent you flying with Anemo!
Overlook his antics, however, then he really can be quite the sweetheart. Moments when you feel down, he'll give you a tub of ice cream. He goes out of his way to make sure you have the maximum amount of comfort in the 'dorm', and will not hesitate to help you with literally anything.
“I'm relieved to know that it isn't just us. Do you need help with something? You can count on me, Aether's a big dummy anyway. Let me tell you, he was just as bored as I am, he simply didn't want to admit it- hoh, so now you're hitting me!”
Although the dorm is spacious enough to accommodate the addition of another room, you bunk in with Lumine, to her excitement. Initially, you thought her to be mellow, but she's pretty high-spirited! The very night you arrived, you're both up so late in the early morning that if Aether hadn't barged in with a scolding session, it's a certainty that you wouldn't have slept at all.
It never deters either of you from doing it over and over, though. It has become so thrilling pretending to be asleep when Aether comes in to check if you're resting, and laughing silently when you get away with it. If you're lucky enough, you can even rope him in!
If Lumine manages to wake up early (a rare occurrence), she will save you from her brother's impish rousing. If not (an almost daily event) then you both can chase him for the sudden ice bath that woke you up and drenched you whole.
Lumine is the one to be a helping hand in your written studies, contrasting her twin, who guides you with your magic. She can be pretty strict, but all is well, for it's through her teaching that you are quickly able to have classes in the main campus.
She understands the stuffiness of being in the spotlight just as well as Aether does, so she diffuses any escalating situation that will stress you further, especially in class. Ah, and she is aware- more than aware of your escapades, how can she not? Ask her to join next time! (And so, three 'null' students are nowhere to be found in campus from time to time...)
The twins are pretty popular among the student body all because of their atypical ability and kindness. Now that there's a rumor about a third student being able to wield seven elements, oh dear.
They like to hold each of your hand as you go down for class, a very heartwarming sight for many. As the time folds on, however, you notice that Aether is giving some of the students a smug look... ah, one can only wonder why. (Lumine slaps her head and says that you're terribly dense.)
Leisure time with the twins is heavenly! You do all sorts of things, from movie marathons, to baking tons of desserts, playing video games, leaving the Academy for little trips- everything! Tight-knit as ever, mess with one, you mess with the two! So everyone knows not to, at all costs, get on their bad side...
During event games like the Seasonal Cradles in which it'll be dorms against dorms, you three have the luxury of either participating or sitting out. It's fun! You can't forget the Halloween event when Hu Tao and co approached to ask for help in scaring the students, ah yes, that was golden.
By the time a semester has passed by, these twins are knowing of everyone's warranted fascination about you. Quick, let one of them snip a photo of you three together and just post it in social media... nuh-uh, you're their precious dorm mate- uh, hearthmate, um- loftmate?? Be jelly, suckers!
You expected to be sorted to a Hearth, yes, but right now? You are perfectly fine and elated to be with the twins. Will not have it any other way!
“I think everyone's leaving for their homes this semester break?” “Mhm, what about it?” “Hooooo~ That means the whole campus and the Hearths are all for ourselves! Should we go have some fun?” “Lumine, I don't think we can just enter anyone's Hearth without permission. Plus, [Name]...” “Actually, I haven't seen any Hearths yet. I'd like to visit, but I don't want to intrude on anyone's business.. I don't know everyone as well as you two, either..” “Okay let's do it.” “Brother, I didn't know you can be this down bad for-” “We can also ask the Council for a gate pass so we can travel outside if we want to!” “Oh, that's a great idea!” “Quit ignoring me, you two!”
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A lot can happen in the span of five years.
Your life at Septem Academy may have just begun, but with the way things kicked off at a great start, you’re relieved to say that maybe the adventure really is just beginning, as well.
Ah, but before all that, perhaps you first need to catch up on learning how to utilize your newfound magic.
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a/n: so~ it's revealed that kaeya/albedo are exchange students from the distant college in Khaenri'ah! holy smokes, they came from so far :'))
also added a bonus hearth! well technically not a Hearth, since it's just Aether and Lumine- but there's MC now. they are referred to as nulls because of the plain white glow that they have on their chests (in this case, MC's hand) and the obvious lack of elemental sigil. still, they're op DSADASK
whenever i'll make more works for this particular au that will be tagged "m-septem", MC is always sorted similarly to the twins, as a 'null' student. unless stated otherwise, ofc! and boy i have a lot of scenarios for septem.
@cherryflushz @e7t3 @scarlet-halos @lordbugs @nebulaera @annoying-and-upset @hanniejji @applepi1415 @tjjjrsj @azirajane @hey-comrade-hold-stil @limelightsuperhero @chloeloe @loptido @windyventi @nejibot @ganyuqrt @justrinnn @yasunamilk @alana5021 @coco-goat-milk @lunastarjay @bambambunny @aryllechan @epioneemersyn @uwu-dreams @yvechu @mininji @o0soup0o @koi-chairowo @www-rosalesluvsyou
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amandacanwrite · 7 months
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Amanda Cessor • A Writeblr Intro
Hey everyone! I'm Amanda Cessor and I write historical fantasy and romance. I have words published in Merciless Mermaids (An Anthology,) Full Mood Mag, and I have my first novel coming out with Inked in Gray Press.
I'll be posting tips, essays, creative nonfiction and excerpts from my work here, as well as documenting the process of publishing my first book with a small, independent press. I hope we can be friends!
The Novel is called "With Love, Juniper" and the little elevator pitch is: Herbalist and witch Juniper, who suffers from severe social phobia, finds herself caught between the courtships of her oldest friend, Oleander, and handsome, influential stranger, Theo, while trying to deal with the expectations of her parents and the members of the small village she lives in.
I have entirely too many projects I'm currently working on, behold:
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A Dawn Without Ashes -- Vampire Romance, Stand Alone (for now?)
Projected Word Count -- 100k
Setting
Fantasy Anachronistic 1920's vibes, in a land where Vampires rule and humans are seen as little more than a food source.
Synopsis
In Oubliette, Vampires rule from the shadows. Humans are considered pests at their worst, beloved pets at best. Orianna is the lowest of the low, an impoverished thief awaiting her sentencing after stealing coins to buy some food. When the charming Count Diable hand picks her as a commodity for his blood-brothel, she worries she has jumped out of the frying pan and straight into the fire.  
She has no idea how true that really is until she meets Atlas, Count of House Lune, darling of the Empress and and keeper of a secret that could change everything. Not only for her,  but for all of human kind.  
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Of Foxes and Follies -- Fae Meets Peaky Blinders -- Trilogy
Projected Word Count -- 100k
Setting
Fictional version of Scotland, which I like to call Not!land and actually called Dimloch, around the 1910's or 1920's.
Synopsis
Rheannon Todd has a debt to pay. A debt she plans to pay by stealing from drunken guests at a Midsummer Soiree hosted by the notorious gangster known as The Magpie.
What she doesn't know is that The Magpie is more than just a charming card sharp with a penchant for cruelty. He's a member of the Unseelie Court and he doesn't much like being stolen from.
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The Hallowed Wilds -- Serial on Hiatus -- Grounded Romantasy
Setting
Pseudo Appalachian small town in the 1840's.
Synopsis
Ezra lives near a mysterious forest called The Wilds. People who go in there tend to not come out, but even as a boy he feels drawn to the strange place. One day, when his parents are out, he sneaks into The Wilds and meets Aurelia, a strange, beautiful witch who has lived in the forest since she was born.
What starts as a beloved childhood friendship develops into a star crossed love over the years. The fear in the village and the brutality of the witches in the forest threaten to tear them apart.
Currently on Hiatus, but you can read about 60k of it here!
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Red Skies -- Standalone Novel -- Pirate Romantasy
Projected Word Count -- 100k
Setting
Psuedo Imperial open world around the 18th Century.
Synopsis
Cordelia Shurka will do anything to provide for her family. She's worked herself to the bone since she was a child to keep the house afloat after her father vanished from their lives. When things get too hard, though, she seeks to raise her station by marrying herself to the viceroy. It seems an easy trade, her utter devotion and obedience in exchange for finally having the security she so desperately wants.
On her wedding day, the thinks she's finally out of the woods. That is until handsome pirate, Edric Davenport steals her for himself.
Want Updates?
If you happen to be interested in getting updates on any of these projects, you can join my tag list here!
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korpuskat · 5 months
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Eleven Years - Epilogue
[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: PG-13 WC: 521 Warnings: Kidnapping; Stockholm Syndrome, imprisonment, isolation, manipulation, mind break (previously) [Chapter 1][Chapter 2][Chapter 3][Chapter 4][Chapter 5]
==
“I’ll never get used to the view.” Perfect aquamarine skies, the sun casting rays and shadows across the handful of clouds. So high up you can see the coastline, where land meets water. You’re over a city- popular enough to have a boardwalk, a pier that extends far into cold steely blue.
You’re thankful for the warm cup in your hands. Spiced tea.
“Good,” Ramattra says, drawing you into his arms, your back to his chest.
She remembered you. A decade later and the vendor in Annapurna’s face lit up when she saw you. And you still have him trailing behind, she had smiled, motioned towards the hooded shadow that lingered tensely outside her shop.
As though nothing had changed.
No one travels, because of the war. She had confessed, I tell them, there’s no war here, but they’re too scared. The world is changing again…
You didn’t have the heart to tell her it’s your fault. You hope your monthly orders are enough to tide her over. A penance with money you don’t even know the source of.
But Nepal is far away now. Not that you know where exactly you are. From here you can barely make out the shimmering white specks of waves crashing just as they reach the sand. Further up the coast is the actual port, barely distinguishable; the air that way is hazed, graying.. Now and then it flashes red, orange, purple.
Your stomach hurts.
You sip your tea to settle it.
The world has changed because he changed. Because he was alone. You could’ve been there. Should’ve. All you did was hurt yourself and him and everyone else because you were selfish and greedy and-
A white plume of exhaust rises up and up between towering pillars of glass- and the ship doesn’t even shudder as a cannon fires. A single projectile intercepts the missile before it can even pass the skyscrapers.
Another burst of purple in the city below. Bright, unimpeded. And smoke follows.
“Dearest?” One arm laid across your belly holds you tighter- the other draws your chin up, sideways until he can see your face. In the daylight, he’s beautiful. It was the first thing you thought when he brought you up here.. Electric lights of your room were nothing compared to how the sun softens his hard ridges, dulls the bright reds of his lights.
The faded gold in the sun had been stunning. You hope when this is over he’ll change it back.
You lay your hand over his and you love him, love him so much it makes your chest ache. Love him despite the fire and war and destruction that you sowed in him. Ramattra’s thumb swipes away a tear. “I love you.”
His whole body jitters, joints locking and unlocking piecemeal. Your view of the daylight vanishes as he engulfs you in his wide frame, draws you closer, closer against him while he drops his head to press it to yours. “I-” He starts. His synth clicks off. You stroke his back, his jaw, and finally he can barely whisper, “I love you too.”
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