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#still no joy for what i do tho. like i was working with a masters student last week and she was like oh yea it was fun

fairyhaos · 10 months

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how seventeen let their s/o win a game

requested by anon: omg i loved the scenario of letting svt win at a game!!! it made my day - and your blog overall gives off warm and cozy vibes :)! if you don’t mind, what would be the ways you think svt would let their s/o win at a game/succeed at something they (y/n) are normally not good at?

notes: counterpart to this post

masterlist

seungcheol

he's not letting you win under any circumstances. you've been losing to him less terribly these days, anyway, and during the last air hockey match you played he only won by five points. he's 100% certain that you will eventually be able to win against him, and he wants that to happen on its own, because of your own merit, rather than because he went easy on you and let you have a victory.

jeonghan

so, so weak for you. literally he could be a master at that game but when you tell him you've never won before, he's immediately toning down his play and letting you win. honestly he never really gets competitive against you because he gets the most joy out of seeing you happy after a victory

joshua

do aegyo for him and then he promises that he will let you win. no no no, you can't say no, you have to do the aegyo and then he'll consider what to do. makes you do three cute poses, one song, one dance, before eventually laughing and kissing your head and saying yeah okay he'll let you win rock paper scissors for doing the dishes

junhui

you wanna win??? ofc!! you gotta still work for it tho, he's not gonna let you win immediately. ends up playing with you for ages, partly because he really does enjoy playing games and partly because he likes seeing you whine when you struggle. still lets you win in the end tho, asks if you're up for a rematch and pouts when you say no

hoshi

teases you endlessly about how terrible you are at playing this one card game against him. he's teasing you so much that you don't even realise you're winning until the game is over and he's grinning cheekily and wiggling his eyebrows before he laughs as you throw yourself into his arm in thanks because this is the first time ever that you've managed to win against him

wonwoo

goes "oh no, i lost" in a completely flat voice as he smiles at you. made an effort to not make it ridiculously easy while you're playing, but at the last moment he backed down a little to let you take the victory, and honestly even though he might have been able to make a new record if he didn't back down, seeing you whoop and kiss his cheek happily makes him the happiest

woozi

no, you're not winning against him. he's good at ball games like this, okay, and if you wanna be good too then you gotta play properly, baby. coaches you through it while you play, and even though you don't manage to win you still manage to play better than before, and he grins and asks if you wanna play again

minghao

thinks that you're honestly rather adorable when you pout and sulk over having lost to him in a game but, one day, he decides to take pity on you and lets you win instead, and the radiant smile that lights up your face has him wondering why he didn't let you have an easy win way, way sooner

mingyu

i dunno, i think that if you're bad at this game then he's probably bad at it too, so there's always a 50/50 chance that either of you win. even if he intentionally goes easy on you, it's not gonna help that much bc you're both so terrible at playing that the game still ends up going on for another hour before someone emerges the winner

dokyeom

is terrible at feigning innocence, makes it incredibly obvious that he's letting you win. still stubbornly keeps up the act, even when you tell him that you know what he's doing. acts the most surprised when you win, making you laugh because he's just so insistent that you won entirely by yourself

seungkwan

you're gonna have to beg this man to let you win because he's not doing it himself. what can he say, he has a competitive streak, but if you ask him enough times then his resolve will eventually crumble. didn't make the rest of the game easy for you tho, because an easy victory is the same as a loss in his books

vernon

this man is always letting you win against him, no matter what game you're playing. he'll put in the effort, definitely, but especially when it comes to games that you're not particularly good at, then he's coaching you during the game play or making moves that put him at a disadvantage because he really adores seeing you happy when you win

chan

tells you he's gonna go so hard on you and make it impossible for you to win, and then he ends up doing the exact opposite. his grin gradually gets wider as you gain the upper hand, and by the end of the game he looks even happier than you by the fact that you've managed to beat him

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a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual · 9 days

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Clone Wars headcanons that have been rotting in my google docs

I like to believe that Padme teaches Ahsoka how to make friendship bracelets and she treats it as something sacred and spends an unholy amount of time making some for the people she cares about

Master Plo gets the first one, Obi-Wan gets the second, Rex Cody and a couple of their boys get some more, Padme of course gets one, and Anakin gets one last

The reason he was the last to get one is something Ahsoka will never admit out loud but she honestly wanted to take her time with his

And because of that Anakin permanently has a work of art on his wrist like everyone’s is gorgeous but his is something else entirely

He thanks her truly and honestly thanks her and promises to keep it forever

When Ahsoka jokingly calls him for breaking the orders rules he comments back “When have we ever listened to those rules”

He keeps his promise too that bracelet never leaves his person

He’s lost clothes lightsabers and even a couple of prosthetics but he always makes sure to go back for that bracelet

He eventually repays the gift in kind with a bracelet of his own

It’s not the best made or pretties thing but Ahsoka can feel the love that was put into it so she makes the same promise he did years ago and keeps it too

When the twins are born Ahsoka makes them both friendship bracelets

At first they are small enough for their tiny wrists but she adds onto them as they grow older

Ahsoka tears up when she finds that they all kept the bracelets she never thought they’d toss them or anything but seeing them decades later does hit her hard because they’re all in perfect condition

Padme loves to “kidnap” Ahsoka whenever they have the time

She’ll just request her protection on a diplomatic mission

Sometimes it is an actual mission but Padme will still make time to take them to her favorite restaurants or cafes so they can have a little bit of downtime

When the war ends the tradition continues even tho everyone knows Ahsoka’s not really there as a security escort

I find the visual of Anakin and Padme telling Ahsoka, Obi-wan, and Rex they’re married fucking hilarious

Both Obi-Wan and Rex would try to act like they’ve been fooled truly they do but it all kinda breaks when Ahsoka asks “Wait we weren’t supposed to know?”

Anakin is just as confused when he asks “What do you mean Soka? How could you have known?”

And that’s when Ahsoka just starts laughing hysterically and it doesn’t take long for Obi-Wan and Rex to join in when he asks again all Ahsoka says is “Really? Kriffing look at you two” and doesn’t add much else

Both Luke and Leia try to replicate Ahsoka’s face markings with various levels of success

They often ask their mom for help and she’s always happy to do so Ahsoka gets filled with unimaginable amounts of joy when she sees her niece and nephew trying to look just like her

Anakin often jokes that of course he’s not the favorite even in his own home like she’s not the first name that comes up whenever babysitting is on the table

It’s also not a surprise that both Ahsoka and Obi-Wan become the twin's space equivalent of godparents

It seems like a necessary precaution all things considered

Neither of them takes the role lightly but they also vow that it won’t be needed and they do everything in their power to make it so

After most missions it is very rare for Anakin to let Ahsoka and Obi-Wan out of his sight

Ahsoka never fights him on this and is perfectly happy to stay by his side and sleep in the living room like they often do

Sometimes Obi-Wan is called away for a meeting with the council and can’t stay with the two but that doesn’t stop him from joining them later on in the night even if they’re asleep

Anything beats sleeping in his cold desolate room after some of the more dangerous missions

Sometimes they’ll go a step further and call Padme just to check in with her and have her on the line as they watch some stupid rom-com

After some of the rougher missions it wasn’t uncommon for Ahsoka to pass out due to the physical and mental strain

It also wasn’t uncommon for Anakin to give her a piggyback ride back to the ship

He finds that people shoot him less looks when he’s carrying his padawan instead of holding her in a death grip and not letting go until it’s time to leave

A lot of people thought they’d grow out of this habit but no it’s a trend that stays throughout their lives

It just so happens that Ahsoka grows tall enough to return the ongoing favor

It also didn’t stop at the battlefield either

Sometimes Anakin would find her passed out in the archives or he would get a message that she was asleep in a friend's room

And he’d always go to get her because what’s he gonna do leave her there?

Sometimes when Ahsokas babysitting the kids Anakin will find her in a position that Obi-Wan often told him about

Sitting in front of the TV with the twins curled up at her side

And while Padme deems it her job to carry the twins off to their room Anakin takes his long-time role of carrying Ahsoka to hers

(Because if you think she wouldn’t have a room in their house you’re crazy)

Anakin always knew Ahsoka would grow up that’s just a part of life and how the universe works

But nothing can describe the feeling of her growing taller than him

Envy isn’t what he feels no matter how much people suggest he does sadness isn’t either it’s something deeper than that

Bittersweet is the closest word he could find because after all there’s nothing quite like watching your younger sibling grow up

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abyssruler · 2 years

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eudaimonia

albedo, subject two/imposter albedo x gn!reader

summary: for the first time in his long years of solitude, he finally experienced the joy of being alive in your arms.

note: cross-posted from my ao3!

warning/s: long post, not sfw, smut, implied cheating (tho not rly), spoilers from 2.3 event shadows amidst snowstorms

part two

“Really, Master Jean, it’s not a big deal…”

“Nonsense,” Jean waved off your protests as she gently pushed you to the doors. “An injury like that should be taken seriously. Take a few days of rest, everyone in the Knights know how hard you work.”

“It’s really nothing, Jean,” you sigh, forgoing formalities as you quickly begin to realize that this is an uphill battle. Still, you let out one last protest that sounds weak even to your own ears, “It’s just a sprain, my wrist will heal soon…”

Jean opens the door and gestures for you to step outside, you follow with no protests and soon the warm rays of the mid-morning sun greets your skin. You turn to Jean and open your mouth for a final argument against her decision to have you take a few days off of work, but the look the Acting Grandmaster sends you quickly shuts you up.

“And what did the deaconess have to say about your sprain?” You wince at her largely unnecessary question, she already knew what Barbara had to say regarding your injury.

“That I shouldn’t put too much pressure on my wrist for the next few days…” you mumble dejectedly, already knowing you’ve lost this battle.

Jean smiles understandingly at you. “I know it’s hard for you, and it might feel like you’re abandoning your duties by taking a break, but your well-being matters more than work.”

You sigh, accepting defeat, and instead of arguing any further, you send her a teasing smile for her statement. “Speaking from experience?”

She smiles fondly, shaking her head in good humor before urging you to step further outside the headquarters. You comply easily.

“Don’t forget that the purpose of this break is to rest,” Jean reminds you.

“Of course, you’ve been reminding me of that since this morning.”

“I mean it,” she frowns sternly at you, and you smile nervously. Had she realized what you’d been planning to do later? “I know you’ve seen the notice about the training camp that the Adventurer’s guild is holding in Dragonspine today.”

You laugh nervously. “Yes, I’ve seen it. I mean, who hasn’t?”

The Acting Grandmaster raises a brow. “I trust that you won’t do something strenuous in the next few days, like going up dragonspine?”

You deflate. “Yes, Jean.”

She smiles at you. “Good. I’m sure Albedo won’t mind if we send a few knights to inform him of your condition instead of going there yourself.”

How did she—?

Shaking your head, you send her a mock glare as you acknowledge that there’s really no getting past her senses. But her words worried you.

“There’s no need to send knights up to Dragonspine just for that,” you argue.

“I’m not going to let you go there by yourself.”

“I know, I know,” you reassure her. “I don’t plan on going there anymore, I’m just asking you to not send knights there on my behalf.”

“Won’t you wish to inform Albedo of your condition?”

“My condition is a sprained wrist that will heal in a few days,” you say drily. “It’s really no big deal, Jean. He’s probably busy up there, I wouldn’t want to interrupt him just for something this minor.”

“Don’t put yourself down like that. I know as well as everyone in the Knights that Albedo would want to know if you’ve been hurt or not,” she scolds.

“Yes, but I don’t want him to worry.” You look at her pleadingly. “Please, Jean, there’s really no need to send knights up there. Besides, you know how dangerous Dragonspine is.”

Jean sighs in defeat. “Alright, but promise me that you will truly rest while your wrist heals.”

You give her a bright smile. “I swear it.”

She gives you one final smile before ushering you away, mumbling about having paperwork to do before giving you her goodbyes and walking down the halls to her office.

“Don’t forget to take a break too, Master Jean!” you call out to her retreating back.

You shut the large doors behind you, breathing in the fresh morning air. Raising your left hand, you examine the stiff bandages wrapping around your wrist and glare ruefully at the appendage. Of all the times to get injured…

It had been an oversight on your part. A stupid mistake, really. Even now you curse yourself for being so inattentive that you had missed the mitachurl running in your direction until it was almost too late. You’d had to settle for raising your claymore with a single hand to block the oncoming strike.

Barbara told you that you were lucky it only caused a minor sprain. If you’d been any less adept at wielding your claymore, you would have been looking at a broken wrist and more than just a few days off from work.

Regardless of whether you’d been lucky or not, you still sighed in disappointment as you remember that you’ll have to spend the next few days by yourself. You longed to see Albedo, it had been a week since you last saw him. Timaeus told you this morning that he’d been by the alchemy table earlier but left just before you could catch him.

You had planned on making the journey to his camp on Dragonspine, but with Jean knowing of this, there was no chance you’d be able to go through with it now. It didn’t feel right to send a few knights up the dangerous path in Dragonspine just to inform Albedo of your small injury, and you wouldn’t want to interrupt him from his work. You knew how much his research mattered to him, and you didn’t want to be a hindrance by making him travel all the way to Mondstadt just to keep you company.

You were content to wait for him, as you’ve always done.

The door to your shared apartment is surprisingly unlocked, and you narrow your eyes in suspicion. No one was supposed to be at home, and you were sure you left it locked when you went to the Knights’ headquarters this morning. Albedo should be in Dragonspine and Klee was in solitary confinement.

Pushing open the door, you hover your good hand above the vision hanging by your chest. You may not be able to wield your claymore, but you were more than able to restrain any housebreaker with just your hydro vision if it came down to it.

Although it seemed there was no need for your caution. As soon as you enter your apartment, a familiar figure comes to greet you.

“Albedo?”

Albedo turns at the sound of his name, a soft smile lighting up his features when your eyes meet. The sight sends your heart aflutter, and the tension in your body dissipates, your good hand releasing its hold on your vision. He stands up from his seat on the couch, discarding an object he’d been tinkering with to take quick strides towards you.

Warmth engulfs you as Albedo wraps his arms around you. You let out a small squeak at the unexpected show of affection, cheeks heating up when you feel his breath against the juncture of your neck. Despite the suddenness of his embrace, you eagerly reciprocate it, hands snaking behind his back and fingers clutching the cloth of his coat.

You hide a smile in his shoulder and take in a deep breath, the scent of cecilias and freshly fallen snow comforting you in its familiarity.

But there’s still a question niggling at the back of your head, and however much you’d rather spend the rest of the morning in the comfort of his arms, you’re confused why Albedo is at home.

“Albedo,” you call softly, slowly pulling away from the warm embrace. “I didn’t know you’d be home. Timaeus said you left Mondstadt this morning for Dragonspine.”

Albedo lazily traces small patterns on your arm with his thumb, looking at you with an emotion you can’t place as he listens to your earlier words. “Ah, yes. I was planning on going to Dragonspine, but after an… incident, you could say, I decided that I would much rather spend my time here with you.”

Your heart skips a beat after he finishes explaining, and as if he knows the reaction his words elicited, he sends you a sly smile. The sight of it stuns you, having never seen such an expression on his features before, and a part of you wonders what brought this behavior on.

You shiver when you feel his hand trailing down your arm almost teasingly, coming to a stop at your bandaged wrist. Albedo lifts the appendage with his hands, eyes never leaving yours, and brings it to his lips, trailing up, up, until his lips reach your fingers, leaving a lingering kiss at each of your fingertips and sending heat pooling down your stomach.

Half-lidded eyes never stray from your face, watching each miniscule change in your features.

This is when your brain finally starts acting rationally. Now is not the time! It’s the middle of the day, we shouldn’t—!

All of your thoughts go straight out the window when Albedo opens his mouth and closes his lips around your finger. His warm, wet tongue circles around your finger, and you wouldn’t have been able to stop the choked off gasp that escapes your lips even if you wanted to.

You see his lips quirk up in amusement at the sound, his eyes holding a glint within that you’re too distracted to notice.

Slowly, he pulls his lips from your finger, leaving a trail of saliva that has your heart pounding at the sight.

He presses one last lingering kiss to your injured wrist before placing his hand on the back of your neck and captures your mouth with his. His other hand toys at the hem of your shirt, gloved fingers leaving teasing touches at the bare skin of your waist.

Albedo nips at the bottom of your lip before pulling away, an out of place smirk on his normally neutral face as he whispers against your lips, his breath fanning the infinitesimal space between you, “Shall we take this somewhere else?”

Unable to form any words, you simply nod your head, still feeling faint whiplash at his unexpected behavior.

He doesn’t say anything more as he pulls to your shared bedroom.

Neither of you come out until late afternoon.

“Albedo?”

He hums.

You trace your fingers over his neck, feeling the muscles beneath your fingertips tense. With a deep breath, you ready yourself to ask the question that’s been plaguing your mind since this morning.

With a hint of trepidation, you ask, “Where is your birthmark?”

He doesn’t say anything for a while, remaining quiet long enough that you look up from his oddly bare neck to gaze at him worriedly. He catches your worried look and gives you a small smile. You feel him tracing small circles on your bare flesh using his thumb, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine and you unconsciously close your eyes to savor the feeling.

You miss the satisfied look that briefly crosses his face. When you open your eyes again, his expression is back to a more neutral look, though there’s a faint quirk visible at the corner of his lips.

“It was a sign of imperfection.” His eyes stay focused on you, unusually intense, as if waiting for your reaction. You continue to stare with curiosity, your face open and devoid of judgment. He blinks, and the softness in his eyes return. “I simply removed it.”

You nod in understanding, but there is a creeping feeling in your chest that you desperately push away. Albedo wouldn’t lie about this, you reason.

Then, to distract you from your troubling thoughts, you send a teasing smile his way. “Well, I suppose if you can create a chair from just drawing…”

He blinks at you. “It is much more complex than that.”

He opens his mouth to say more, but you quickly put a finger to his lips, lest you be caught in another lecture where the only words you’ll manage to understand are none. And even though you stopped what was about to be a speech on the intricacies of alchemy, you feel something in you calm at the innocuous act, because rambling on about alchemy and using words you couldn’t hope to understand is something that Albedo is often prone to do in your presence.

You laugh softly at his wide-eyed look of surprise at being interrupted. Almost sensually, you trail your thumb across his bottom lip before removing your hand altogether. “As I was saying, if you could do that, then I guess removing a birthmark wouldn’t be so difficult.”

A breath escapes you, still caressing the place where the golden mark used to be, feeling the tendons in his neck relax. A sense of disappointment fills you. You had liked the golden diamond on his neck, loved to trail your lips over it and listen to the breathy exhales that escaped him as you did so.

“Still, you didn’t have to do that.” You meet his eyes, hoping to convey your sincerity in the words that are about to leave your lips. “You’re already perfect.”

You lean in and close your eyes, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. You don’t see the conflicted look that passes through his features, only noticing the way his hands tighten on your hips when your lips brush against his skin. With a content smile, you pull away.

He watches you, taking in the crinkle in your eyes and the soft flush in your cheeks from the afterglow of your recent activities. He hadn’t thought much of you, back when he had only been able to catch glimpses of you in the dreary landscape of Dragonspine, back when he hadn’t realized the effect you would have on him. But now, looking at you laying on his chest and idly tracing small patterns on his skin, he realizes that he had been blind this whole time.

Sunlight slips through the curtains, highlighting the contours of your naked body and accentuating your features with each ray of light. In this moment, you have never looked more angelic to his eyes, radiant and beautiful. And with a twinge of anger and bitter jealousy, he wonders if this is the sight his brother is blessed with every time he is with you.

Possessiveness floods his being, and he unconsciously grips you harder. The thought of leaving bruises on your skin, marks made by him and not his brother, leaves a dark satisfied feeling in his chest. He had been careful with you, mindful not to leave any traces of himself upon your flesh. It sickened him, having to resist the urge to truly make you his.

He had come to Mondstadt this morning out of impulsive curiosity. He hadn’t planned on staying long enough to speak with you, let alone do what he has done in the past few hours. Now that he’s gotten a taste of his brother’s life, he doesn’t think he could ever go back to the bleak cold of Dragonspine—and he won’t.

He has grown tired of biding his time.

He crashes his lips against yours, swallowing your brief exclamation of surprise and drinking in the taste of you. He ceases his self imposed restraint, lets go of the shackles that held him back from loving you in the way he truly wanted.

He had decided, when he first awoke and realized the depth of the betrayal of his creator, that he would do everything in his power to take what he had been deprived of. He hadn’t understood what was so special about you, then. What made his golden, perfect brother stray from his beloved research to spend his time idling with you? A rare smile adorning the immaculate creation’s lips as he, the abandoned experiment, watched the two of you trek the landscape of Dragonspine.

Now, looking at you, flushed with want and panting below him, his heart stutters within the confines of his chest, and he realizes that he has never wanted anything more in his entire artificial life.

Yes, he thinks, muffling your whimpers against his mouth as he takes you once more, I will take you from him as well.

This time, he is rougher, leaving marks across your collarbones and digging his fingers hard upon your thighs. Albedo has never treated you with anything other than gentle hands and sweet caresses, passionate but ever so careful not to cause you harm. Methodical hands that trailed over your flesh, knowing your body more than yourself, always leaving you satisfied yet wanting for more.

Albedo has never been such a stark contrast of himself until now.

But you ignore it as he finishes inside you, holding you close afterwards and pressing featherlight kisses on the forming bruises on your skin, murmuring praises and affections that leaves you breathless and high in the affection he so freely gives you. The way he says your name makes you feel as if you’re falling in love all over again.

So, despite his cryptic words and unusual smiles, despite the discrepancy of his actions, you welcome his harsh grasps and bruising touches and ignore the part of your brain that screams that something is wrong.

Because when he kisses you, telling you he loves you in between each break for air, you can do nothing but love him in return.

You hear the door shut, rousing you from your sleep despite the clear attempt at reducing the noise it made.

Groggily, you raise your head from the pillow you’d been laying on to squint in the direction of the door. In the dark, you can only see the faint silhouette of a person carefully approaching, steps almost inaudible if not for the silence that engulfed the room.

“Albedo?” you call out, voice hoarse from sleep.

The figure stops, then places something on the dresser near the door before coming to kneel by the bed. The tiny rays of moonlight slipping through the cracks of the curtains faintly illuminate the person before you.

Your head falls back into the pillow once you register that it’s only Albedo, and you move your hand from under the blanket to reach for him. It only takes him a moment to understand what you’re asking for, and soon your hand is intertwined with his. Albedo squeezes your hand.

“Forgive me, did I wake you?” The soothing sound of his voice nearly sends you right back to sleep, but you try your best to stay awake.

You squeeze his hand back reassuringly. “It’s okay, no need to apologize.”

You can’t see much in the dark, but you feel when he turns your entwined hands, pressing a kiss at the back of your hand. His lips are cold, which causes an involuntary shiver to run up your spine.

Albedo lets go of your hand for only a second before you feel a dip in the bed. It’s only when you feel his cool breath brush your face that you realize he’s about to kiss you.

“Wait—nooo,” you whine, turning your face away and covering your mouth with your hands. “Don’t kiss me, I have morning breath.”

“It’s currently night, love,” he reminds you, his lips hovering above your cheek.

Your sleep-addled mind doesn’t quite understand that. “Then, um, night breath…?”

You hear him chuckle before you feel him pry your hands from your mouth. Embarrassed, you try to turn your head away again, but he cradles your face in his hands. And before you can try anything else, he slots his lips upon yours. You do your best not to breathe until he pulls away.

Albedo leans over you, still holding your face between his hands, “Such a thing doesn’t bother me, so please, don’t stop breathing for my sake.”

You nod, and that seems to be enough of an answer for him because he slowly removes his hands from your cheeks. He snakes his arms around your waist, lowering his head to rest on the crook of your neck and ghosting his lips over the remnants of the marks he’d made just hours ago.

Gently, you raise your hand and card your fingers through his unbound hair, untangling the knots and smoothing them out.

In the middle of this tranquil moment, you come to a realization.

“Where were you?” you question, your mind finally catching up that he hadn’t been beside you when you woke up.

Albedo lifts his head from your shoulder to meet your eyes. You send him a quick smile to show you’re not mad, merely curious. He relaxes against you.

“I had some leftover work that needed to be seen to, and I checked over the notes I retrieved earlier.” His lips quirk up as though in amusement before settling back to a more neutral look.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but the sound of your stomach interrupts him. Blinking, his eyes wander from you to the source of the sound, then his expression turns mildly sheepish.

“Ah, you haven’t eaten lunch or dinner yet, and it would seem that the fault lies within me…” he sighs, “I’ll cook us dinner as soon as possible.” He ends his sentence with a firm kiss on your lips.

Then he effectively disentangles himself from you, pressing one last lingering kiss on your forehead. And before you know it, he’s already crossing the room and closing the door behind him.

You bury your face in the pillow, hiding a smile as the the distinct sound of pots and pans being moved in the kitchen filters through the closed door.

Morning light filters through the open windows, illuminating the domestic scene in the kitchen.

You laugh under your breath when Albedo fails to grab the egg shells from the egg-filled bowl with his bare fingers for the third time.

“You’re not normally this clumsy,” you tease, cheek resting on the palm of your hand. He had insisted that since your wrist was sprained, you shouldn’t have to do any chores for the next few days, so here you are, sitting on the stool of your kitchen island as you watched him attempt to make scrambled eggs for breakfast.

Albedo stiffens after hearing your comment, but he then relaxes, looking up from the bowl of eggs and sending an amused huff of laughter your way.

“Here,” you offer, reaching for the bowl with your unbandaged hand. Your hydro vision glows dimly as you force the egg whites surrounding the shell to rise, and with a flick of your wrist, you send the floating liquid containing the shell to the nearby trash bin.

After you’re done with your little trick, you turn your head to see Albedo gazing at you with unabashed amusement.

“What?”

He merely shakes his head, grabbing the bowl and whisking it using a fork. “That is a rather unorthodox way of using your vision.”

You grin at his teasing tone, “Well, what’s a vision if not to make our lives easier?”

His eyes flit to the vision hanging from your chest so quickly you would have missed it if you hadn’t been watching him so closely. “I suppose.”

Then, he turns around and starts readying the pan. You close your eyes and let the noise of Albedo working at your breakfast wash over you, and soon you find yourself in an impromptu nap.

A hand on your shoulder gently shakes you awake, and you open your eyes to Albedo’s teal colored eyes gazing at you. He gestures at something and you follow it to see freshly cooked scrambled eggs and steamed fish.

In an instant, your drowsiness disappears and you immediately reach for a spoon and fork, digging in with gusto at what is sure to be an A-class meal.

You’re not disappointed.

The eggs feel like clouds in your mouth, the fluffy and creamy texture adding to the taste on top of the mild seasonings he put in. The steamed fish melts in your tongue, soft and just the right amount of chewy. You could eat the same meal your entire life and not get tired of it.

Humming in satisfaction, you make sure to savor each bite, taking care not to eat too fast. You don’t want the food to be gone just yet.

“How is it?” Albedo asks after a few minutes, his plate already clear.

You take a few seconds to chew and swallow your food before responding to his question. “It’s delicious as always! Ah, I wish I could taste your food everyday...”

He hums contemplatively, “If you desire it, then I shall endeavor to cook more for you in the future.”

You straighten up in your seat, a beaming smile making its way to your face at his promise. “Really? Thank you!”

And because you’re unable to help yourself, you lean over the table to press a chaste kiss on his lips. He blinks for a moment, as if processing what just happened, before averting his eyes and coughing lightly into his fist.

You’re glad he took your sudden kiss well. In the past day of being back with him, you had started spontaneously giving him more of your affection—well, more than what you already gave him usually, which was a lot. Perhaps it was because of the way he’s become clingier, taking every chance he can to touch any part of you, that you’ve subconsciously tried reciprocating it.

“But,” he adds once you settle back in your seat, “I can’t guarantee that it would be as good as the food you can buy from good hunter’s.”

“Nonsense! Your cooking is the best I’ve ever had.” To further prove your point, you shove a mouthful of eggs in your mouth, humming in delight at the taste.

“You flatter me too much.” He looks away, but there’s a tiny smile playing on his lips a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“It’s really, really good! The best! If you ever decide to quit alchemy, let me know so we can set up a restaurant of our own,” you jokingly suggest.

“Perhaps,” he says before reaching for a napkin, taking your chin in his hand and wiping at the grease on your lips. You watch him do so with wide eyes, trying not to let your inner surprise at the unexpected gesture show in your face.

When he pulls away, he catches sight of your wide eyes, and realization seems to hit him. “Ah, forgive me. Was I too forward?”

And you can only stare after he said that.

Was he being too forward, he asked, when not even two hours ago he’d been busy pounding into you with such force that you can still feel your hips and thighs aching. Was he being too forward with wiping at your lips with a napkin, when less than an hour ago he’d been ravishing your lips with his and nearly forgetting to pull away for air.

There are times when Albedo says words you can barely hope to understand, showing you that he truly is a genius despite claiming not to be—and then there are times like these where he says things that make your head spin at his utter obliviousness.

He’s still looking at you, waiting for a response, napkin discarded to the side as he gave you his whole attention, as if what you’re about to say is the final variable he needs to achieve the result he desires in an experiment.

Fondness curls within your chest.

“Albedo,” you say, reaching for both of his hands. You can see the confusion in his eyes at the action, and perhaps even a hint of nervousness as he anticipates what you’re about to say. “I love you.”

He clearly didn’t expect that, judging from his baffled expression.

You laugh and lean in to kiss him once more. Then, playfully, you ask, “Was that too forward?”

It’s then that he finally understands what his words may have come off as, and he sighs at your teasing smile.

You recall your thoughts yesterday, to when you called his behavior strange. Perhaps strange was too strong a word to describe his actions, unexpected is the better term for it. Lately, he’s been surprising you with the amount of affection he’s so freely given you.

Maybe it was a given. You had been separated for about a week, though that wasn’t a very long time compared to the longest time you’d been apart, which was a month. You reason that going home after spending the days in the cold of Dragonspine, then finding out his lover had injured themself while he was away would be enough to make Albedo more affectionate towards you.

Yes, you decide, resuming your meal and smiling as Albedo watched you eat, that must be it.

“When do you have to go back to Dragonspine?” you ask, head resting on his lap on the couch as you watched him go over his alchemy notes.

Albedo hums in thought, eyes never straying from his notes. “I left an experiment of mine in Dragonspine, one that is capable of getting the results I need without further observation on my part. So, if all goes well, I don’t see myself returning any time soon.”

Your mind takes a few moments to process his words, but once it does, you can’t help the excitement that bursts within you. Sitting up, you lean on both hands, bringing your face close to his. “Really?”

Lowering his notes, Albedo finally looks up and meets your eyes, amusement dancing within them. “Yes, I mean it.”

Inwardly cheering in joy, you quickly wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest, trying to contain the giddiness you feel at the prospect of spending the entirety of your days off with Albedo.

Propping your chin on his chest and looking up at him with a wide grin, you ask, “Does this mean you’ll get to spend more time with me?”

He smiles at your clear delight, discarding his notes to the side and snaking his arm behind your back to hold you closer to him. “As long as you want.”

Unable to repress your joy, you leap up and shower his face with wet kisses, making sure not to leave any place untouched by your lips. You hear him chuckle as you shower him with your affection, his eyes crinkled in happiness with every press of your lips on his skin.

You draw back to give his neck the same appreciation, especially the mark on the base of his neck, but you pause when your eyes land on his bare skin.

The golden star is nowhere to be seen, and in your elation, you had forgotten that he removed his birthmark days ago.

As if knowing what was running through your mind, Albedo silenced your thoughts by leaning in and taking your mouth in his. The golden mark forgotten, you eagerly respond to his kiss with equal vigor, hands gripping his shirt tightly to ground yourself as the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth made your brain go haywire.

He moved slowly, languidly taking his time kissing you rather than the rushed tangling of limbs before, like it was the last time he would ever get the chance to be with you.

And he had thought it was the only chance he would ever get to taste you, to feel you wrapped around him and hear your voice let out wanton moans that he made sure to sear into his mind, because he thought he would have to go back alone without the warmth of your touch, thought he had to settle with replaying the sounds you made as he pleasured himself alone in his secluded camp, all while his brother got to go home to you.

But he underestimated the euphoria that being with you would bring him, and now here he is, his long-term plans abandoned in favor of devouring your mouth with his tongue.

The tightness in his pants is starting to become unbearable. He reaches down to release himself, but you beat him to it, shooting him a wink that has all his blood rushing down.

With the ease of having done this numerous times before, you undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants before pulling it down. Then, you lowered yourself until his erection was within perfect reaching distance to your lips.

He didn’t understand what you were about to do, still unexperienced in so many ways despite pretending in an attempt to imitate his brother, until you leaned down and took all of him in your mouth in one swift motion.

The sound that escapes him is something that will be engraved in your mind for years to come, pride swelling in your chest at how quickly he becomes undone with just your mouth.

Ragged breaths come out of his lips as you continue to bob your head up and down, cheeks hollowed and tongue swirling around his length. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were an expert based on the reactions he gave you.

Truth be told, you had only done this once with him before, and you’d done so badly during the first time that you ended up crying as you gagged around his length. Albedo had to pull you off him and remind you to breathe as you coughed from the sudden emptiness in your mouth. He had been so worried for you, massaging your jaw and saying that you never had to do that again if you weren’t ready.

Embarrassed was an understatement for the feeling you had then. So you practiced while he wasn’t around, making sure to lock the door to the bedroom as you trained yourself to get accustomed to getting your throat violated.

(You never want to think again of the amount of cucumbers you bought at the general good’s store during that painfully mortifying time.)

But from the sounds Albedo made while you pleasured him with your mouth, you can only conclude that all of it had been worth it.

Breathing in through your nose, you lowered your head down, down, until there was nothing left to go down on. Your lips touches the base of his hardness, soft hair tickling your skin as you let your throat get accustomed to his girth.

Above you, Albedo emits a strangled gasp, his hand weaving its way between the strands of your hair, gripping hard and tugging. The sensation sends a shiver running down your spine, and you couldn’t help the moan that vibrates from your throat.

You didn’t expect the effect it would have on him when a groan escapes his lips, and you raise your head unsurely, feeling his length slide out from your throat.

Albedo makes a displeased noise before he tightens his grip on your hair and slams your head down his length so fast that you weren’t granted the time to prepare for the sudden intrusion against the back of your throat. You gag, tears forming at the corner of your eyes.

His eyes snap open once he realizes what he’s done and quickly helps you up, smoothing your hair down in apology. You smile at him reassuringly and take him in your mouth once more.

You felt him getting closer and closer to his release by the tightening of his grip on your hair, so you set up a faster pace, tongue working wonders as you pressed it flat on one of the more prominent veins. His hips buck up in time with your head, and you’re thankful for all those times you practiced because not once did you gag again.

With one final thrust of his hips, Albedo finishes inside your mouth. This time, you let him push your head down to take all of him in, his warm release hitting the back of your throat. You make sure to swallow all of him, bobbing your head up and down his length to make sure you get all of him.

You pull away, leaving a thin string of saliva mixed with his release connecting your lips to him. Licking your lips, you look up, your eyes meeting, his pupils so dilated that the teal in his eyes can barely be seen.

Cheeks flushed, hair a mess from running his fingers through them when you sucked him off. He was beautiful, no, he was—

“Perfect,” you blurt out.

He blinks, and awareness enters his gaze in an instant. The intensity in his eyes makes you crawl over to him and place a hand on his cheek. You take all of him in, the plumpness of his lips, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the light reflecting off his glassy eyes.

You don’t know what made you say what you were about to say, but something in you urged you to speak your mind. This felt so different from the last time you said it to him. Despite the intimate moment you shared earlier, Albedo looked… vulnerable, in a way you have never seen him before.

So you make sure to look him in the eyes, taking a breath and rolling the words on your tongue, “You’re perfect.”

It is pathetic how his heart bursts within his chest when you lean down and take his lips, tasting himself on your mouth. He knows, like he knows the sky is blue and the grass is green, that you do not mean the words for him. You meant it for his brother, the golden child.

And yet it is not his brother you are kissing, it was not his brother you had pleasured, it was not his brother you had looked upon with your lovely eyes, and it was not his brother your hand had cradled and your voice called perfect.

It’s him. All of it had been him.

He is the one who made you laugh, made you kiss him with joy, made you breakfast and lunch and dinner when you were incapable of it. His brother is in Dragonspine, while he is here. With you.

Him, not anyone else.

So he, the failed experiment, who, before meeting you, has never been called anything but flawed, believes you wholeheartedly. Because despite not being meant for him, you had still said the words to him, and that’s all that matters.

A loud crash resounds from the kitchen. Abandoning the book you were reading, you rush to see what the commotion was about.

You find Albedo crouching beside the counter, picking up the broken pieces of something you’re unable to decipher, it certainly isn’t one of your plates or glass cups. Once he’s finished gathering them in his hands, he deposits the pieces on top of the counter.

His hair is in disarray, as if he had run his fingers through them, his braids looking like the slightest tug would be enough to unravel them.

You’re unsure whether to come over and help, but he doesn’t seem to have any problems fixing the object himself, so you remain standing by the doorway, watching as he pieces together the device of sorts.

In just a manner of seconds, the object looks like it hadn’t just been a pile of broken pieces on the floor. Recognition lights up in your mind, you remember that object from a few days ago. When you had just gotten home from your talk with Jean, Albedo had been tinkering with that object then discarded it once he saw you.

You peer curiously at it, wondering what its purpose could be.

You jump when Albedo releases a frustrated noise and slaps away the object. It slides across the counter harmlessly, and now your curiosity is even more peeked when you see it suddenly glow dimly before the light disappears altogether.

Albedo audibly sighs, and you turn your attention back to him. Deciding that now is the time to reveal yourself, you take a step into the kitchen.

“Albedo?” You approach his turned back slowly, reaching out for his hand. “What’s wrong?”

Your fingertips graze the bare skin of his wrist, but you immediately pull back with a quiet gasp.

He’s freezing to the touch.

Albedo whips his head at the brief contact, meeting your wide eyes with his own, a harried look in them that disappears when he sees you. Slowly, you reach for his hand, wary not to startle him again. He lets you take his hand in yours, wrapping it between your hands and placing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

He isn’t as cold anymore, and you take that as a good sign, however strange it may be.

“Is everything alright?” You make sure to keep your tone gentle, coaxing him to open up with whatever has bothered him so.

His teal eyes flit across your face, as though he’s looking for something, before closing his eyes and leaning forward, resting his forehead against yours. You move his hand to your chest, right where your heart is beating, and he lets out a sigh.

“There have been new developments in Dragonspine, ones that I was too… distracted to foresee.” His eyes flicker across a flurry of emotions that pass by too fast for you to process.

Your brows furrow. “Are you sure?”

He sighs again, looking exhausted. “Yes. That device,” he gestures to the object he slapped away earlier, “monitors the state of the experiment I left in Dragonspine. From the lack of glow in it, I can only assume that my experiment has been neutralized.”

A frown makes its way to your lips at his odd choice of words, but you don’t bother asking what he intended by them, you’re sure you wouldn’t have understood a thing.

“So, then, what does this mean for you?”

“It means that I must return to Dragonspine soon,” he answers.

His words snap you out of your thoughts, and you step away from him in surprise.

It’s only been four days but he’s leaving again…

Disappointment weighs on your chest uncomfortably. You know how important his research is, have done your best to accommodate his busy schedule and simply tried to make the most of the limited time you had together, but you had gotten your hopes up.

You promised to spend more time with me, is what you want to say, but you won’t use his words to trip him into guilt. That would be cruel and juvenile of you.

You accepted, the moment you agreed to be in a relationship with him, that there would be large periods of time where he wouldn’t be able to keep you company. And you have never once complained because you know how much his work matters to him, and you love him too much to take that away from him.

So, you nod, trying to be understanding.

“I see,” you try, but you don’t quite manage to hide the disappointment in your tone, and Albedo must have picked up on it.

“Forgive me, I know I said I will stay for as long as you’d like, but these circumstances are dire.” He tilts your chin upwards. “Please do not be upset, I will only be gone for half a day at most.”

You perk up at his response. Half a day? That was shorter than you initially thought, you expected him to be gone for at least two days.

An idea forms in your head. “Then, how about I come with you?”

His answer is immediate.

“Absolutely not,” he frowns, but you’re far from discouraged by it.

“Why not? We’ve traveled to Dragonspine several times together, I can handle a bit of cold.”

“It is not the cold I am worried about.”

“So there’s no problem then,” you quip.

“It’s dangerous,” he looks pointedly at your bandaged wrist.

You wave your hand in a nonchalant manner. “It’s fine, really! Kaeya’s been teaching me how to use a sword, you know? And a sword’s much lighter than a claymore, so I can definitely use it with just one hand.”

“Kaeya?” he questions, an odd tone to his voice, “Why didn’t you ask me to teach you?”

You look away sheepishly. “Well, you’re always busy—not that I blame you for that!—and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You could never be a bother,” he says softly.

You don’t reply to that. He exhales a breath and adds, “Should you need any help in training, come to me.”

“Alright,” you acquiesce, and just when you see him relax, you continue, “But only if you let me come with you later.”

“No.”

You shrug. “Then I guess I won’t be coming to you for help, I’m sure Kaeya would be all to eager to help me with a sword. Master Jean once offered to train with me anytime I’d like, and who am I to deny the Dandelion Knight herself? I’m sure there’s a lot she could teach me.”

Albedo remains nonplussed. “I know what you are attempting to do.”

You grin cheekily at him. “Is it working?”

It is. Damn his pathetic heart. He can never say no to you.

“Don’t stray far from me.”

You respond by clinging to his torso, face buried in his shoulder.

“We’ll leave in the morning,” he informs you.

He knows he’ll regret his decision come morning, but the possibility of leaving then coming back to Mondstadt only to find that his brother has returned leaves him shaking with repressed anger. Bringing you with him to Dragonspine is not ideal either, but at least the terrain is familiar to him, he will have an advantage should the worst come to pass.

He has the rest of the night to think more on how to prevent you from crossing paths with his brother. Although, feeling you pressed against him like this sends his blood rushing down places it shouldn’t be.

Half a night, he corrects.

He wastes no time in pulling you to bed and laying on top of you, claiming your mouth with his like a man starved.

His hand finds purchase on the spot between your legs, rubbing you through your clothes. A wanton moan escapes your lips that he is quick to swallow, bracing himself with one elbow as he angles his head to get a deeper access to your mouth.

His hand continues to stroke you faster, feeling a wetness seep from your cloth covered sex to stain his fingers.

He withdraws his head for a brief moment to give you time to breathe before delving back into your lips. His pants feel uncomfortably tight around his hardness, twitching with every muffled cry you let out, he wants to feel your warm mouth around him again, and perhaps you’ll agree after he’s done bringing you to your high.

Shifting his lips, he begins a trail of wet kisses from your mouth to the underside of your jaw, licking at a sensitive spot before sucking on your skin. This, combined with the constant stimulation of his hand against your sex, brings you to release, hands gripping at the cloth of his back so hard that he feared you may tear it with the force of your orgasm.

The sound that escapes you is borderline pornographic, he engraves the sound to his mind.

He lifts his head, making sure to look at you with half-lidded eyes as he brings his hand, covered with a thin sheet of your release, to his mouth.

You taste absolutely divine.

Eyes never once leaving yours, he continues to suck on his fingers, watching the way your pupils dilated with lust filled his chest with pride.

His fingers come out covered in saliva. He hears you make a noise and he turns to find you looking at his spit-coated fingers. A smirk tugs at his lips.

Without any warning, he shoves three fingers in your mouth, seeing you close your eyes in ecstasy. A moan erupts from your throat that his fingers stifle. He watches you drool around his fingers, equal parts fascinated and aroused.

He makes sure to push his fingers deeper, feeling your tight mouth spasm when he hits the back of your throat.

While you were busy choking on his fingers, he lowered his lips back to your throat and started suckling on the fading marks he left you days ago. He wouldn’t want them to disappear after all.

Eventually, your hand finds its way to his unbound hair, fisting the blonde strands between your fingers and pulling insistently. He takes it as a sign to remove his fingers from your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting them to your lips.

You take in deep breaths that more often than not hitch into breathy moans when he finds a particularly sensitive spot. His scalp hurts from the tight grip you have, but he finds that he enjoys feeling the pain caused by you.

He pulls away. You only have a moment to breathe before he’s tugging at his clothes, removing yours impatiently once he’s finished with his.

There’s something clawing at his chest that is making him lose his patience easier. It could be the anxiety swelling in him from the upcoming journey tomorrow, or perhaps it’s the anticipation of finally getting to be inside you again, of feeling your walls clench down on him.

It’s this impatience that leads him to sheathing himself inside you without prior preparation, biting back a moan at your tightness. Your scream of pain is swallowed by his lips, and he wipes away the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes.

He will feel bad about this later, will be eaten away by guilt, but he can’t help but be further aroused by your expression of pain. It’s something he’s recently discovered he liked seeing in you, but he held himself back. He doesn’t necessarily want to hurt you, but he does get a sick sense of pleasure at seeing you look so pained and vulnerable beneath him.

A part of him feels smug, knowing that only he has done this to you and that not even his weak, mild-mannered brother would have the guts to act on his fantasies. They were made by the same person, after all, the same thoughts and ideas placed inside their their organic minds. He’s certain he’s not the only one who harbors such filthy thoughts.

He grants you time to adapt to his size before moving slowly, guilt starting to creep into his chest at having caused you pain in the first place. Only when you give him a nod of approval does he start moving his hips.

Gradually, he increases his pace, until you take the initiative yourself and raise your hips to meet his thrusts. And that’s all the permission he needs to start pounding into you relentlessly, finally resuming his ministrations on your neck and collarbones.

He wants you to look like a mess of hickeys and bruises by the time he’s done.

“T-Too much,” you gasp, tugging at his hair in complaint.

He ignores your protest and continues suckling at your skin, tongue lapping at the bruise once he’s finished and moving on to the next patch of unblemished skin. He can’t let you leave tomorrow without thoroughly marking you as his.

There’s a chance—a high chance—of you running into his brother. He will never let that happen, but he can’t rule out the possibility of it either.

He wants you to be so covered in his marks, such that if someone were to see the hickeys he left on your skin, it would be indisputably evident that you are his. So he fucks into you harder, grips your thighs so tight you’ll be feeling the ghost of his touch for days, hips slamming against yours in the hopes that you’ll become too bedridden to accompany him in Dragonspine—wishful thinking, you’re more resilient than that.

“A-Albedo,” you whine, “Please, slow down.”

He does the opposite.

The sound of that name, his brother’s name, the name he seeks to claim for himself, does something to his chest, awakens something primal in him that has him losing all control.

That name is his brother’s.

That name should he his.

That name was given by his creator to the perfect experiment.

But is he not perfect? You had told him yourself, so innocently and full of love in your eyes without realizing the impact your words would have on him.

What is perfection? Perhaps one could say it is a subjective term people use so exceedingly that the word has lost its true meaning. But to him, who has never been considered as anything close to it, that word is everything.

He has been called many things, a failure, the inadequate creation, a failed prototype—once, when he had first opened his eyes and was greeted by his master’s old, nameless assistant, he had been called a miracle. But never perfect.

But why should their words matter? Hadn’t he decided that his creator’s words meant nothing to him now? Rhinedottir called him a failed experiment, why should he accept her words when you—beautiful, radiant you—called him perfect in a way no one else had?

“Still, you didn’t have to do that. You’re already perfect.”

“You’re perfect.”

And so, if you yourself had called him, the so-called failed experiment, perfect, then what is stopping him from becoming the perfect creation himself?

“Albedo,” you call out to him again.

And oh, how he hates that name. Loves and loathes it with the same passion that he loves you and loathes his brother. Loves when you call out to him, voice breathy and so full of affection, but loathes that you call out his brother’s name, the name his master did not deign to give him.

He loves and loathes when you take his face between your hands, so tenderly in a way no one else has, and tell him you love him, but he loathes when you end your confession with a name spoken so reverently. A name that is not his.

Albedo. The name rolls off your tongue so easily, so familiarly as though you’ve spoken it so much that the name itself has been carved in gold within your very soul.

He wants you to speak his name, to cry out his name as he makes love to you—and yet, he does not have one.

To your eyes, he is Albedo, and that is the only name you will ever call him.

If that is the price he has to pay for you to keep calling out to him, then so be it. If being Albedo is the only way he will ever be known to you, then he will endeavor to become Albedo, to truly take his brother’s place.

To have your love be given to him and only him.

The name Albedo was bestowed to the perfect creation. It should only be fair that he takes on that name, you had called him perfect, after all.

(You had meant your words to only be for his brother, he knows that. You had only said it as a passing thought, meant it like how most humans mean it when they say something is perfect, the word becoming overused and subjective in a way that could never be approved scientifically. But he accepts it, nonetheless, because it’s you.

And perhaps he’s breaking one of the most important rules in research by choosing not to be objective, but if he had to choose between his alchemy and you, he would choose you every time.)

He sighs in contentment, leaning into your palm as he closes his eyes.

“Say my name again.”

Bemusement rises within you, but you do as he asked. “Albedo.”

“Again.”

So demanding, you think, fondness curling in your heart at his adorable close-eyed expression. He’s leaning on your palm like a puppy, a faint smile visible on his face.

Cute.

This time, you place both hands on his face, cupping his cheeks as you plant a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Albedo.”

He snaps his eyes open and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His lips slot perfectly against yours, as if the two of you were made to fit each other perfectly.

You were made for him, not anyone else, and most especially not his detestable brother.

“Albedo,” you whisper against his lips between each kiss, and every time he hears it, he holds onto you tighter, presses his lips to yours harder, leaving you more breathless than you were before.

He nuzzles his nose against your cheek, breathing in your scent and engraving it to his memory. A sigh of contentment escapes his lips, “Again.”

“Albedo,” you dutifully say.

That’s right. He is Albedo. Him.

It’ll do good for him to have you repeat calling him Albedo over and over. It was leverage.

He doesn’t necessarily want to use such an intimate moment between the two of you as leverage, but he will always be a scientist, and though he hopes for the best, he cannot disregard the multitude of possibilities where you refuse to accept him should you discover what he is.

For you to discard him like his master in favor of his golden brother… well, he can’t allow that now, can he?

You called him Albedo, you let him kiss you, you let him enter your bed, all of your own volition.

You told him you love him, and you wouldn’t lie about that, would you?

And if you accuse him of deceiving you, of being an imposter, well, it’s not really a deceit if he’s Albedo, is it?

You leave at the break of dawn when the inhabitants of the city are only starting to wake up, carrying a light bag of supplies in case of an emergency and dressed to ward off the chill.

At the edge of Dragonspine, just before the cold truly sets in, Albedo turns to you, checking you over to make sure nothing is out of place.

You let him fuss over you, straightening your scarf and smoothing down the nonexistent wrinkles in your clothes. And if his hands linger in certain places, well, you’ll keep it to yourself.

His hands stray to your vision you insisted on hanging from a necklace right over your chest, hands testing the strength of the wire necklace. Once he’s done, he steps away and grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers.

“Done?” you tease.

“I’m simply making sure you will be well protected from the cold.”

He begins the walk up the path to Dragonspine, tugging you alongside him.

The path is one that is not familiar to you, so you turn to him questioningly. “Why aren’t we going up the usual path?”

“My experiment was placed elsewhere, for a change in scenery, you could say.”

You accept his explanation, though you can’t help but add on, “Well, I hope you know where you’re going, cause I don’t.”

Albedo squeezes your hand. “Don’t worry, I am more than familiar with this place.” His lips quirk up, almost as if he’s amused by a joke only he knows the meaning of.

Dismissing his words as another one of his jokes that no one else seems to understand, not even the intelligent Sucrose, you simply do your best to keep up with him.

The longer you spend walking deeper into the mountain, the more anxious Albedo seems to become. He may not show it outwardly, but from the way he constantly squeezes your hand, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes every so often, you deduce that he’s truly worried about your safety.

A part of you feels guilty for making him worry. Perhaps you shouldn’t have insisted on coming along, but you remind yourself that you can handle it. Your wrist may be sprained but you can still wield a sword, albeit not as good as you may have wielded your claymore, but it should be enough to deal with a few hilichurls if you ever come across them.

Besides, you had your vision, and while a hydro vision isn’t very ideal to use in this freezing weather, you’re confident in your abilities.

Reassured, you squeeze Albedo’s hand back, willing your assurance to be conveyed to him with the gesture.

He, meanwhile, is nervous, though he hides this fact by schooling his features into one of apathy. With the snow closing in around him, the direness of the situation truly hits him. If not for your hand grounding him, he would have started shaking with repressed rage.

His plan failed, that damned whopperflower got itself killed and exposed the existence of an imposter not just to his brother and the traveler but to three other people as well.

He can handle disposing of his brother and the traveler, but three other vision wielding people? That would spell trouble and cast suspicion on him.

Once again, he curses his failure of a creation. If he had known how unsuccessful that whopperflower would be, he would have done the deed himself. Perhaps, by now, his brother and the traveler would be dead and he’d be free to have you all for himself.

But because of that useless whopperflower, he now has more problems to deal with.

Is this what his master felt whenever she looked at him, the failure of an experiment?

He inhales the icy winds of Dragonspine to cool his head.

He can’t bring you with him to the site where his brother and the others killed his creation, it would bring up too many questions, but he also can’t leave you alone without the possibility of you meeting his brother.

But… what if he left you somewhere secluded? A place where his brother wouldn’t think to go to under normal circumstances.

A clearing near the heart of Durin, the first place he stumbled across when he first awoke in this land. You would be hidden there, and once he’s done checking on the remains of the mutated whopperflower, he’ll take a detour and pay his dear brother a visit. After that, he’ll handle the rest.

Mind made up, he squeezes your hand once more before his steps become surer, feet confident as he guided you up the familiar paths of Dragonspine.

You notice the change in him instantly, and despite not knowing what went through his mind, you’re glad he’s okay now.

The rest of the trip is made in silence, both of you careful not to alert any of the monsters around you of your presence.

Then, finally, you stop at a clearing, an unlit brazier near the copse of trees. Albedo releases your hand and makes his way towards it, lighting a fire using the matches he brought and a pile of dried wood beside it. You eagerly soak in the warmth of the blazing fire.

He then turns to you, hands gripping your arms. “I realize that what I’m about to say severely contradicts my words last night, but I need you to stay here in this clearing while I look into my work. My research is volatile, and you are in no condition to protect yourself from it.”

Your jaw drops. He’s leaving you alone out here when he’d been the one to insist that you stay close to him at all times?

“If it’s so dangerous then that’s all the more reason I should come with you,” you argue vehemently.

“You cannot,” he tells you firmly. Then, a pained look crosses his face before settling back to a neutral countenance. “You will only be a liability.”

You flinch.

Turning your head away from him, you glare at the snow beside your feet. He sighs audibly and takes your chin in his hands, lifting your head to look him in his eyes. He looks apologetic, gloved hand cupping your cool cheek.

“Forgive my harsh words, but know that I only wish to keep you safe,” he sounds genuinely apologetic.

“If you wanted to keep me safe then why did you let me come with you in Dragonspine?”

“You know as well as I do that you would never have agreed to being left behind—”

You interrupt him heatedly, “If you knew that then why are you leaving me now?!”

Albedo calls out your name earnestly, but you ignore it.

“Wouldn’t it be more dangerous if I’m alone?” You look around the bare clearing. “Why are you even leaving me here? We could’ve gone to your camp instead.”

Something odd passes his face as you mention his camp.

“My camp is…” he shakes his head, “Messy would not be enough to describe the state it is in. I have yet to clean up the noxious chemicals I left days ago,” he explains slowly.

You frown. “I can clean it up, I’ve always cleaned up the mess from your experiments, this’ll be no different.”

“These chemicals are particularly potent, I did not bring the necessary equipment to dispose of it.”

“Then, I could just stay outside. It’s much safer there.” Then, you would check to see if you can handle cleaning up the camp. You’d much rather be there than out here.

“This place is safe too, no monsters dare to go near it.” He places his hand tenderly on your cheek. “Don’t you trust me, my love? I would never intentionally put you in harm’s way, you know that, right?”

That wasn’t fair, how can you say no to that?

“I do, but—”

His brows furrow, seemingly upset. “If you do, then why won’t you agree with me? Do you doubt my word?”

Your eyes widen at the accusation. “What? No! I’ve never once doubted you, but—”

His hand tightens its grip on your arm, his tone almost… threatening. “Then stay here.”

If you had been more suspicious, less blinded, less willing to excuse his odd behavior, you would have been aware of the unspoken ‘or else’ at the end of his words. As it is, though, you only set your jaw stubbornly and move your head away.

You hear Albedo sigh in defeat before using his hand to bring you to meet his gaze again.

“Please,” he implores you, his tone much softer than it had been earlier, “Just wait for me here.”

Then, he pulls you flush against his chest, pressing kisses to your jaw that leaves you weak in the knees. And this—this was a low move.

Despite your indignation, despite the desire to argue until you got your way, you can’t say no when he speaks to you like that. You can never truly deny him anything.

“I…” you try to protest more, but he begins suckling at the exposed skin of your neck, and you become putty in his hands. “…Alright.”

You truly are weak against him.

You feel him smile against your skin before he draws back, fixing your scarf so that it coils around your neck snugly, protecting you from the biting winds of Dragonspine. Albedo smooths his thumb across your cheek, almost as if in apology.

“But,” you add, “be quick, okay?”

“Of course,” he promises, taking your gloved hands in his and placing a kiss upon each knuckle. Then, his expression turns serious. “Under any circumstances, do not leave this clearing.”

You nod even if you still don’t quite get his paranoia.

And soon, he’s releasing your hands, grabbing the pack he brought from Mondstadt and turning away to trek the path across the snow, his steps hurried.

“And be safe…” you whisper to his retreating back, watching until his silhouette is swallowed up by the icy fog that constantly permeates the atmosphere of Dragonspine.

With nothing left to do, you make your way beside the only source of heat and resign yourself to a long wait.

You had dozed off, you have no idea how you managed it with the constant barrage of cold winds and snow despite the blazing fire beside you.

Most importantly, though, you woke up at the sound of snow crunching near you.

Raising your head, you swivel your gaze in the direction of the sound, eyes sharp. With the constant fog permeating Dragonspine, you can’t see much, but you do manage to locate the source of the sound.

You rise from your seat, picking up the pack you used as a makeshift chair, and hurried to greet the blonde who stood frozen in his spot after spotting you, a sword in his hand and his features contorted in surprise.

“Albedo!” you call, hefting your bag over your back as you made your way towards him, dusting off the snow that accumulated on your clothes. “That was quicker than I expected, it’s barely been an hour.”

Albedo says your name in confusion, immediately dematerializing his sword as you approached. His lips part, likely to ask you something. As you neared him, though, you see his mouth close when he catches sight of your wrist wrapped up in bandages, and it’s as though all of his attention is suddenly diverted there.

He takes ahold of your wrist, looking at you silently for permission, so you nod. Carefully, he lifts it, gloved fingers tracing over the rough gauze.

“What happened?” His eyes are filled with worry, but you can only stare in bewilderment.

You attempt to take your wrist back, but Albedo stops you with a gentle hand on your elbow.

Full of concern, he asks, “Does it hurt? If it does, you should rest for a bit. Here, allow me carry that.”

Utterly flummoxed at his strange behavior, you can do nothing but let him grab your bag and sling it over his shoulder, his other hand still holding on to your wrist.

Why was he acting like this is the first time he’s seen your sprained wrist? You told him on his first day back home that you’d injured yourself fighting a mitachurl, is he pretending to be forgetful? Is this one of his pranks? You’ll admit you don’t quite understand his humor — even Sucrose once told you she didn’t even realize he was joking until he told her so.

The past few days have been very odd, but he’s been exceptionally sweet and doting to you, so for his sake, you suppose you can play along with this little prank.

“I sprained it fighting a mitachurl.”

His eyebrows raise. “A mitachurl?”

He’s being very convincing with his little forgetful act. You still don’t quite see how this can be considered a prank, but you respond anyway, “I know, it’s kinda stupid, but as I told you before,” you look at him pointedly, silently asking him to drop his odd prank, but all he does is look at you expectantly, albeit with a hint of confusion. “…I was distracted, so it got the best of me.”

“I see,” he says, thumb tracing circles over the bandages. “Although, why have you made the journey to Dragonspine? It is incredibly dangerous, especially during these times.” His expression darkened as he said the last part.

This again?

You feel exasperation, an emotion you rarely feel when you’re with Albedo, run through you. You get that he’s worried, but you’re not a child, you’re an adult who can take care of themself.

“Okay, that’s it.” You pull your wrist from his hands, and this time he lets you. “What’s with you lately? First you start behaving more touchy — which, I’m not complaining by the way! — and now you’re doing this–prank, or whatever this is.”

Albedo looks baffled. He opens his mouth to interject, but you speak before he can, “I get that you didn’t want me to come with you up here and intrude on your research, but I thought we settled that already, and now you’re bringing it up again. You don’t have to pretend to be forgetful if you wanted to argue about it. Have you even finished dealing with your experiment?”

Now, he seems even more perplexed. “Experiment? I’m afraid I don’t know which one you’re speaking of.”

You can’t help the groan that escapes your lips. Normally, you’re level-headed and rarely lose your patience, and when you do, you usually try to keep the fact hidden. Maybe the cold of Dragonspine has gotten to you, but you’re no longer in the mood to play along his act.

You’re cold, you’re sore, and you just want to go back to the warmth of your home and cuddle up against him. Since he’s back with you, then he must have finished checking up on his experiment, which means there’s no real reason to stay in the freezing cold of Dragonspine.

You take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. You aren’t mad at him, not truly, you had been the one to insist on coming with him all the way up here, so you had no right to complain about him. It’s simply the cold and dreary atmosphere of Dragonspine.

“Albedo,” you say tiredly, dropping the topic and instead reaching for his gloved hand, tugging him in the direction of the fire, “Let’s just go home. If you’re already done with your work, then we shouldn’t dally any longer. Besides, you promised to cook more for me.”

Your arm is tugged from behind, and you turn your head to see that Albedo has stopped walking.

He looks as though he’s come to a realization.

Albedo says your name carefully, “Why have you come to Dragonspine?”

You were about to ask why he’s asking you this when he already knows the answer, but the serious look on his face stops you. Brows pinched, lips set in a straight line, you remember seeing this look on him last year when he recounted the events of what transpired in Dragonspine with the mutated cryo regisvine to you.

Reflecting upon your exchange in the past few minutes, you realize that all of his questions and the confusing answers he gave weren’t meant to be some sort of joke. He had been serious.

“…What do you mean by that?”

He closes his eyes like he expected your response.

“Did you meet with me earlier?” The tone of his voice seems to indicate that he already knows what answer you’ll give him.

You’re confused—deeply, horribly confused—but you don’t think this is a joke. “Well, yes, but I still don’t understand why you’re asking me this, you’ve been with me for the past five days.”

Albedo’s eyes widen in alarm. He grabs your arms firmly, but still gentler than the way he held you earlier.

“Albedo?” you ask, eyes wide.

“You have been in Dragonspine for the past five days?”

He seems to know what’s going on, but you don’t, and that uncertainty is starting to frighten you. “No, we were in Mondstadt, remember? We just made the trip here this morning.”

“Mondstadt,” he repeats, his eyes suddenly far away. “He went to Mondstadt. For all that I attempted to predict his actions, I had not considered the possibility that he might—”

Tired of his cryptic responses, you interrupt his rambling, “Albedo, what is going on with you? You’re not making any sense.”

“Did he do anything to you?” he asks, completely ignoring your question. Albedo searches your face for something, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek. “Did he hurt you?”

“Who are you talking about?” you demand, uncaring of how rude your tone came off. You’re still unable to tell what’s going on in his mind, but a creeping suspicion rises inside you, one that you adamantly refuse to consider.

He calls your name firmly. “The last time I was in Mondstadt was two weeks ago. I have not left Dragonspine since then.”

His words refuse to register in your mind.

How could he say that he hadn’t been in Mondstadt when you can clearly feel the evidence of him being with you just last night in the form of the fresh, aching bruises on your hips? Your body held all the evidence needed to attest that he’d been with you.

Unless—

No.

That was impossible. What he’s implying… no, it simply isn’t possible.

But, thinking back on the days you spent with him, you start to notice the signs. The things you had brushed off or rationalized in your mind start to form a horrible idea in your mind. No matter how much you tried to reason against it, it became undeniable that unless Albedo was lying, then the person you’d been with hadn’t been Albedo at all.

And then, Albedo hits the final nail in the coffin, “You met someone who looked and acted like me, who claimed to be me, didn’t you?”

Time seems to stand still, as if the world itself has stopped spinning just for this moment. Albedo’s eyes bore into you, watching, waiting for your reaction.

You can’t accept it, no matter how much evidence has been piled in front of you, because to accept it is to acknowledge the events that transpired between you and the—

You can’t even bring yourself to call him that. It feels wrong, to reduce him to simply an—imposter—because he was more than that. He’d shown you his emotions, had shown you affection, had shown you that he was a person and not just some faceless impersonator.

And that, perhaps, was the worst thing, because it would have been easier if he’d simply been an imposter, but you spent days with him; making conversation with him, laughing with him, eating his home-cooked meals. Archons, you’d had sex with him.

Was all of it a lie? Had your feelings betrayed you? You felt your heart burst with joy whenever you were with him. Your smile had been real. The emotions he evoked from within you had felt as real as he had felt beneath your fingertips.

You told him you loved him and felt yourself mean it.

He looked so much like Albedo, spoke like him and acted like him, that you’re unsure whether this feeling you have for him in your chest is because of him or because he looked like Albedo.

It would have been easier, you think, if he looked like anyone else.

You avert your gaze downward, unable to stand Albedo’s scrutiny.

A glint catches your eye.

You move your gaze to the base of his throat, and there, lying innocuously on his skin is his birthmark.

You raise a trembling hand to it, tracing the outline of the golden star. Albedo continues to watch you carefully.

“You said you removed it…”

He doesn’t say anything to that, already knowing the conclusion you’ve drawn.

And that was the most damning thing of all. You let yourself be deceived, when all of this could have been avoided if you’d simply been more suspicious.

But how could you have come to the conclusion that the person before you wasn’t Albedo, but an—imposter? Even now, a part of you is still hoping he would crack a smile and tell you this was all a joke. A joke in bad faith, but a joke nonetheless.

You take a step back and return his gaze, your eyes pained and so full of conflict. Everything feels like a dream, like you’re about to wake up and realize that all you’ve experienced in the past week was a false narrative.

You don’t know how to tell Albedo that you had let him touch the most intimate parts of yourself.

But perhaps… perhaps you don’t have to tell him right away. Perhaps you can wait until you’ve dealt with the imposter (and something in you clenches painfully at the thought), and wait until you’re back home in Mondstadt.

Wait until the bruises fade, and then—and then, there’d be no reason to tell him. If Albedo doesn’t see the marks he had made on you, then you can lie, tell him you hadn’t slept with the man impersonating him, tell Albedo you had only kissed him and that was it.

Albedo will be suspicious, but he’ll have no evidence and you will continue to deny it—because how can you admit that you had cheated on him with someone who wore his face?

You have never been good at lying, but you can try and hope he doesn’t see through it.

“I—”

But it is then that a particularly strong gust of wind blows harshly in your direction, and you quickly grasp at the edges of your scarf to prevent it from being carried off by the wind. Your scarf had loosened from its previously snug coil, and you immediately feel the cold nipping at your bare skin.

You quickly grab the top of your scarf to pull it up, but a firm hand stops you.

Looking at him inquisitively, you see Albedo’s face devoid of emotion, his gaze transfixed on the visible skin of your neck—

Your heart stops.

Your neck, where fresh, bruise-like hickeys bloomed across your skin.

word count: 13.5k

part two

#not sfw #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #albedo x reader #imposter albedo x reader #subject two x reader #dorian x reader #albedo x reader smut #imposter albedo x reader smut #subject two x reader smut #smut #albedo smut #gn reader #long fic #eudaimonia

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ravenwitch45 · 1 year

Note

I thought of this because Blitzø and I both love horses and love the movie Spirit. So the mustang that they studied while animating the horse is at a ranch right now and they actually changed his name to Spirit.

Can I request Y/N surprising Blitzø on his birthday by having them both put on human disguises so they can meet the real Spirit?

Oh you cannot get more Horse Stan then this man, and with this specific horse? Your pratically gonna smother him with everything he loves all in a day, I'll do my best with this!

Blitzo's SO surprising him by taking him to see the real Spirit on his birthday

Blitzo ain't the kind to be all humble about his birthday of course, He says it's coming up a lot around the office, Stolas, and of course you, but he honestly doesn't expect much.

If people remember and wish him a happy one, that's all it takes to satisfy him,

Any gift, parties, or surprises are something he appreciates extremely tho, especially if feel very FOR him if you know what I mean.

So when you find out about the whole situation with Spirit, you know you have to surprise him with it. You talk to Stolas and make sure to master the human disguise spell to make sure to avoid any problems and you plot on how to make it perfect.

He gives everyone the day off, cause working on his birthday is something he'd totally not do. So you wake up finding him looking at his phone, smiling to himself as he sees the happy birthday messages from M&M and Stolas, not knowing your awake yet you sneak up on him and give him a kiss.

"Happy Birthday Handsome, I have a surprise for you~" To which he smirks at first, before raising a brow, questioning what, only getting that'll have to wait til after breakfast.

As if on cue, Loona comes in having cooked up breakfeast in bed for her dad, actually calling him that as she awkwardly wishes him a happy birthday, getting a hug as he near cries tears of joy at that. Serving well to stop him from questioning what you have planned

After breakfast you grab the grimoire, which only confuses him more, but you just stay quiet as you pull him through a portal and put on the disguises. You ruffling up his new hair, saying you'll miss his true form for the moment but that this will be worth it.

He starts to question you again before he recognizes your at a ranch, luckily it's the early morning and no one is working yet so noone to stop him from bursting in and saying hi to all the horses. You just smiling at how cute he is when he get's like this.

You tell him that you still need to keep going for the surprise, which makes him pout "But there all so cute how can I leave them!?"But you drag him along as he pouts more.

Eventually you reach where you need, Him rushing up to the Mustang, "Hey! This guy looks like Spirit from the movie!" He says looking up at the horse like it's the most beautiful thing in the world. You responding "That kinda is Spirit from the movie." The Assassin's jaw drops before he laughs a little "Your so fuckin with me! It just reminded me of it." You then explain that your not, explaining that this was the horse that was an animation reference for the very movie, you've watched over and over with him, and that the horse he's smothering with love is actually named Spirit.

And that... just makes him go silent for a second before hugging you, putting his head on your shoulder as he wraps his tail around you, simply saying a tender thank you, hiding that he's crying at having someone who loves him for all his oddities and interests.

You simply say he's welcome before suggesting you find some feed since you know he loves to feed horses, so you do and you two go around with him getting every horse in the ranch to lick out of his hands which he laughs at every time.

When you guys get back to Spirit, he awkwardly thanks the horse for in a way inspiring him and giving him so much joy throughout the years. He tries to whisper it but you hear him, not teasing him for it tho.

You finish up feeding all the horses and he says goodbye with a kiss to each before you walk out, him hugging you again and thanking you for the great surprise, a great start to his Bday, you kissing him and promising that you have a few other ideas to make the rest great too, your gonna spoil him so bad, and you'll have help<3

I Actually had a lot of fun with this, hope I did this good, still getting used to writing this stuff, but hey, Blitz is one of my faves so happy to spoil him.

#ask reply #helluva boss #blitzo #blitzo x reader #helluva boss x reader #x reader #helluva boss headcanons

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pix3lplays · 2 months

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To Argenti, who would you say are your fav ppl or things? What if I try to rizz you up 😈 (I’m joking dw, I am curious what ur fav things are tho. Like person, food, drink and activities)

Rizz me up? *Argenti checks a piece of paper written for him. It’s a guide to slang* OH. I assure you I would be quite flattered, but I promise that my ‘Rizz game’ is Superior. *The Knight seems quite confident in this fact.*

(Pixel: oh boy. Now you’ve done it.)

*Argenti brings a hand to his chest, looking elegant and proud as he replies to the questions*

My favorite person? Perhaps not a ‘person’ but…the answer will Always be Idrila…*he rambles a bit about Idrila. You feel like you’re being preached to…

He does EVENTUALLY realize he’s rambling, and promptly clears his throat and moves on to the next question.*

My favorite food…well…personally I do not have a very expansive palate, given my lifestyle as a knight. Truthfully I do not come across many opportunities to try new things so…I suppose I will always have a special fondness for the classic delicacy that is bread. It pairs nicely with so many things, no? I…wouldn’t really know to much about that, but that’s what I hear.

Favorite drink…I’m afraid I’m in a similar situation with the food question but…I do have a fondness for tea. Specifically rose tea.

I enjoy a variety of activities…most notably the joys of travel appeal to me…being able to expand my world by meeting people, talking to them, sharing the significance of Beauty to them…it means very much to me.

I also enjoy photography, though I am still…amateurish at the art. Sometimes, if taken properly, even a still picture can reflect beauty magnificently.

And speaking of art, I occasionally enjoy bringing pen to paper, typically in the form of poetry.

Yes, a truly beautiful art. One I wish to master some day.

And I do enjoy physical activities. Exercise is always something enjoyable for me.

Recently I’ve found myself doing some light reading as well, too. I have a fondness for romance novels.

And of course I do enjoy my fair share of sewing…sometimes rips and tears on the fabric aspect of my armor happen and one needs to know how to take care of such things, especially when on your own as often as I am.

Finally I do enjoy making modifications to The One and Only, typically detailing work…though I also have a fair bit of knowledge on how to maintain the mechanical aspects of my ship as well.

That’s what comes to mind off the top of my head but…I am willing to try new things as well.

Recently I’ve been curious about ice skating. I have never had the opportunity to try it…I must change that soon.

-Argenti, Knight of Beauty

#honkai star rail #Hsr #Argenti #hsr Argenti #honkai star rail Argenti #Argenti says stuff sometimes

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krispyt · 4 months

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @cnnmonbimee! <3

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 3...pretty small number if you ask me sksksks.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 22,961

3. What fandoms do you write for? I actually just write for JSHK, and currently writing some as of the moment! I attempted to write for Omori, but I couldn't continue because I forgot the prompt for the WIP I was about to make and for the life of me, I still can't up to this day.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

An Unlikely Alliance = 226 kudos

whoever made your smile must've made it to get in my way = 97

turn off the music (and listen to the quiet whisper) = 77

Man, I didn't even reach 5 sfkjhsdkjs.

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! It's always a joy to read them and I try to respond as soon as I get over myself lol. Sometimes a comment makes me so happy I have to compose myself sksks.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

whoever made your smile must've made it to get in my way! Angst is my cup of tea, but if you ask me this actually isn't angsty enough. It's more or less bittersweet. I wrote this around the time of the Severance arc and I remember getting a barrage of messages from my best friend because they wanted to fight me with how angsty I made the fic. I should write more :3

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Hmm, probably An Unlikely Alliance. This was the first fic I wrote, and it's pretty lighthearted compared to turn off the music (and listen to the quiet whisper) which has a happy ending too, but it's more subtle...if that makes sense?

8. Do you get hate on fics? Nope. And I sure hope that doesn't happen.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Nope...I wish I could lol. But I get so overtaken by embarrassment I die before even typing. Kudos to the writers who can write smut though. Ily all. I wanna try it tho, but I think I'll start with implying these scenes happened in my fic lol.

10. Do you write crossovers? Nope...though drawing crossovers seem like something I'll do.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Nope, and I hope this doesn't happen too.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but I want to try! It seems fun.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Hananene! Listen I've never been so consumed by a ship like Hananene. I was just going to read the manga for funsies and I ended up spending the WHOLE day catching up to it and that was THREE years ago. I was in a chokehold. Still am lol

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? So there's these WIPs I wanna finish (tucks hair behind my ear):

Hananene Hanahaki fic - not spoiling much, but I wanted to try writing yandere Amane lol. I'll leave it up to you to figure out what's the general premise ;>

Twoshot Childhood best friends/College AU Hananene - I think the problem with this WIP is I keep forgetting it exists sjkfhksj I just found it yesterday lol.

16. What are your writing strengths? Hmm...I guess if there is one, emotions of the characters and the overall setting. I find it really satisfying if I'm able to tie in a character's emotions and make the setting a supporting detail to said emotion. And like, double meaning descriptions...if that makes sense? Idk what you call em sfjhg

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I struggle with the flow and brevity a lot. I take a lot of time with WIPS because I keep trying to see if the flow goes smoothly or wonky, then I have to keep tweaking till it sounds alright in my head. As for brevity, sometimes I drown in descriptions that the fic drags on and is too long. This is where being detail-oriented becomes a con T_T

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Uhh...probably not. English is actually my second language, but I suck at writing in my native language simply because it's kind of a "heavy" language, if you get me. And I haven't mastered other languages enough to write fics with it

19. First fandom you wrote for? JSHK! I'm usually a lurker lol. This is the first time I actively participated in a fandom.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Does a WIP count? sfkjhssj if it does, then it's the WIP I'm currently writing. If not, I'd say turn off the music (and listen to the quiet whisper). I'm kinda proud with how it turned out :3

Tagging @legend-of-cupcake since most of those I know already responded sksksks. Anyone can join in if they want to as well!

#thanks for the tag hime!#krispy answers

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kriz-fics · 2 years

Text

The Sword’s Legacy

Series Summary: As the heir of your father's lands, you have grown up knowing that one day you must wed to your House's advantage, and there's no better catch than the younger son of the Magister himself. Meanwhile tensions within the king's court are set to come to a head at any moment - it just needs that spark to send everything ablaze. Now in a court more dangerous than the one you entered, you find distraction and joy in the company of the beautiful boy with the beautiful eyes. You can only hope to weather the storm you can sense brewing in the horizon.

Masterlist

Chapter Eight: Fire and Rain

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Female Reader

Genre: Royalty AU, Historical Fantasy AU, Romance, Politics, Warfare, Eventual Smut (future chapters)

Length: 10.3K

CW: None for this chapter

“Here, I can help you with that.”

Eren stiffens then looks away, feeling his earlier good spirits curdle like sour milk, the lumps of it settling heavily in his stomach. “I don’t need help from the likes of you.”

He does not like the sentiment behind this offer of aid. It tastes too much like condescension for his liking. He has been a squire for six years now and has been rolling cleaning barrels without support ever since he had traded his thin little boy’s arms for ones that have grown strong enough to bear the weight of sand and steel. He does not need any help, least of all from one such as Jean Horseface.

He hears the Kirschtein boy tut irritably, and moments later, the barrel Eren has been rolling on the ward’s rough stone flooring surges forward a foot.

“I said I don’t need help,” Eren snaps, leaning down hard on the keg to stop it moving any further. “Why are you even here? Bedding down for the day? The stables are over there, pick a stall and leave me alone.”

“Gods, you can be such a stubborn jackass! The work will go faster with us two, don’t you want it done as soon as possible?” Jean snarls back, face reddening with rage as he attempts to push the barrel into motion once more.

“What, have you come to gloat, is that the way of it, Kirschtein? Lord it over the reckless, stupid boy who-” Eren breaks off sharply, horrified to feel the hot sting of tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He blinks them back, furious. I thought I was recovered from that. Apparently, the past day or so he had spent crying in the presence of his friends and master has not truly relieved him of the crippling guilt he still feels about the Lord Commander. Why did I expect anything different? But it is one thing shedding tears in front of those he had and another showing such vulnerability to Jean Kirschtein.

“I’m not here to gloat.” Eren quickly glances at the other boy, not expecting the solemn look on his long, horsey face. Jean stares down at the wooden slats of the barrel underneath his hands. “I think you needed something of that magnitude to give you some perspective. I’ve always thought you brave, envied you for it even- yes, I actually do,” he affirms at Eren’s disbelieving snort, “but I’ve just come to realize how thin the line between bravery and recklessness really is. All those times you did something I thought brave… looking back, I think you really skirted the line most every time. It’s just that there were no consequences to them then.”

Jean shifts a little, as though to straighten up, but seems to think better of it and remains hunched over the barrel. “So, I suppose it’s a lesson for you. A hard one at that. And the cost…”

You paid the price, make it worth the blood you paid.

Blood that isn't even mine. “Why didn’t you tell her?” Eren finds himself asking, as he starts to roll the barrel once more.

Jean frowns a little at him as he pushes along. “Tell who what?”

Eren mutters your name and adds, “Why didn’t you tell her that… it was my fault, the whole mess with the Lord Commander…?” He keeps his eyes fixed on the rolling keg underneath him and listens to the sounds of Sir Levi’s mail tumbling around within the shifting sands in the cask.

Jean hums thoughtfully at that. “It’s not my place to say. She needed to hear it from you and you alone. And something that scandalous coming from me seems too self-serving, what with our… notorious relations.”

Eren huffs out a laugh, despite himself, and there is nothing more said between them as they roll the barrel to the opposite wall and back again. Standing the cask upright proves an easy feat with their joint strength, and Eren pries open its lid, taking out his master’s chainmail hauberk and shaking out the sand that clings to it. He is pleased to see it come out nice and bright, with not a spot of rust in evidence.

Jean moves off then to see to his own mail. Eren glances after the taller boy, silently struggling with himself, before following Jean and proceeding to help him with the barrel. Jean does not remark upon this sudden act of consideration, which suits Eren just fine; the silence is better than any unnecessary and clumsy attempts at conversation.

He takes his leave of the other boy soon after and heads toward the Hall of the Sentinel carrying Sir Levi’s well-cleaned mail, which he has carefully wrapped in oilcloth to preserve it from further rust.

Eren cannot quite believe the encounter he has just had with the Kirschtein boy. It seems to him that five years spent consistently antagonizing each other should not have given room for a conversation such as theirs but there it is. He does not know what to make of the other boy now, nor how he is to deal with him when next they saw each other. But some part of him is starting to entertain the idea that maybe, maybe the horseboy isn’t so bad after all.

The Hall comes into view moments later, and Eren feels a light finger of embarrassment brush over him at the prospect of seeing his master once more, especially considering the circumstances with which they had parted earlier.

The picnic yesterday had helped ease the heavy weight of guilt he had been forced to carry for the better part of a month and had, as Jean said earlier, given him some perspective on the matter. It was as though the dark sentiments festering inside him had all flowed away with his tears, and he had gone to bed a great deal more hopeful than he had ever been the past few weeks.

He immediately sought out his master earlier this day, intending to make amends - long past due - as best he could. He had not counted on bursting into tears and groveling at Sir Levi’s feet. The memory still shames him and puts lead weights around his ankles, yet the way his master dealt with him then - quietly, (dare he say gently) with not a trace of heat or chill in his voice - gives Eren much cause to be reassured. As it is, he will bear any amount of indignity to atone for what he had done. What little pride he has left should be coin enough to pay for this transgression. I can get it back, I will learn from this and come out the better, they’ll see.

Dropping off the hauberk proves less mortifying than he had anticipated. Sir Levi had given him one of those cool, enigmatic looks he does so well and simply said, “Make sure you don’t disarrange anything in that chest,” before returning to his book. Eren leaves his rooms feeling more as if he can be confident in his standing with his master, tempered though the feeling may be.

Finishing all of his day’s duties early leaves him with plenty of time to spare before dinner. He wonders if you have finished with your own tasks, ministerial and royal both. The yen to see you guides his passage to the Rhyzkov apartments.

He feels no trace of the embarrassment he had carried to Sir Levi’s quarters as he makes his way to your rooms. By all rights, he should have; but crying before you was more of a relief than anything else, and you had certainly not shamed him for it, for which he is glad. He still can’t quite believe he had received an embrace, along with another kerchief, for his trouble.

Eren feels himself flush a little at the memory of your warmth and your scent, that sweet and heady fragrance of your essence, apples, and winter roses. For that is what that flowery scent is, he has come to realize. He has always thought the floral notes to your perfume seem familiar somehow and cannot quite place where he had smelled it before. The past season gave him the epiphany and more reason to look upon the flower with renewed fondness.

Yet your warmth and your scent were nothing to your gentleness and the way with which you had handled him then. He had been shocked to his soul when you took him into your arms, and suddenly, there was nothing else but you, only you, only you. He had wanted to melt into your embrace and stay there forevermore, where everything was right in the world and nothing could hurt him. But you had let go, and the moment was gone.

He truly has a deal to be grateful to you for.

Her and Armin.

Guilt once again gnaws at his insides, and he can almost groan at the very much unwanted feeling. It was hard, living through the past few weeks with it and regret hounding his very being; in that time, he had never felt so trapped inside his own head, wishing for things to have gone differently, wishing he was somebody else, somebody else cooler, calmer, more collected. Speaking to his friends both about everything that had plagued him during the campaign was like drawing poison from a wound and yet… He can still recall the hot, scorching feeling of jealousy that had arisen inside him like a monster from the deep at the sight of his betrothed and his closest friend standing together outside his door, a heavily unpleasant indication that the both of you had been spending plenty if not most of your time with each other the past month, without him in attendance.

The sentiment was only made worse by the sheer devastation he felt about the Lord Commander, and it awoke once more the dormant feeling of personal inadequacy inside him that had been born from that one game of qaxan, that feeling of being behind and beneath his own friends… And worse, some part of him wanted to latch onto that monster instead just to forget his massive bungle. For anger is always, always better than guilt and regret and tears.

Eren sighs to himself glumly, remembering the way the blond boy had flinched back from his glare. Armin doesn’t deserve his rage just because of the doubts he carries about his own person, especially where it concerns his standing with you.

Movement ahead catches his eye, and Eren looks up to see Armin walking down the corridor as though summoned into existence by his thoughts. The other boy, cradling one of his customary massive tomes, seems to not have noticed Eren as he turns to enter an archway that leads to what Eren knows to be one of the palace terraces. He hesitates for half a heartbeat and calls out, “Oi, Armin!”

You can wait; the night is yours both, after all. The desire to make up for yesterday’s unpleasantness overrides all else at the moment, and he is sick unto death of guilt; it is all he seems to be immersed in these days, and he wants to be free of it at last. Begging Armin’s pardon should help, surely.

The boy himself pauses by the archway and turns to look at Eren. “Oh, hey, Eren.” His tone, while friendly, seems wary somehow to Eren’s ears. Or perhaps it is the guilt coloring his senses then. Yesterday had ended with them parting ways on good terms, yet Eren knows he has to address the matter of his… nastiness in some capacity.

Armin lifts (or attempts to, at least) the stone slab that passes for a book up in his arms a little. “I was just looking for a quiet, airy place to read that wasn’t the gardens for a change. Would you like to join me?”

Eren agrees, immensely relieved at this turn of events, and follows the other boy through the archway and down a short staircase to the terrace proper. This particular terrace is one of Eren’s special favorites, for it opens up to its own series of steps that lead down to one of the deepest vaults of the castle, where one can find a massive giant’s skull half-melted onto the ground.

As it stands, this terrace is also one of the more favored spots of his own circle of squires who often frequent it for drink and leisure, mostly in the dead of night. Connie had been seized one night by a sudden curiosity to see where those steps led, and the whole lot of them were treated to a sight that was horrifying yet wondrous to behold.

The giant face was melted and blackened and withered, its preserved, dead flesh redolent of turtle hide, and had covered most of the broken stone floor of the cavernous crypt. Its mouth and jaw had vanished, stretched out onto the ground in long, leathery swathes, leaving only two gaping nostrils that led up to a long bridge of a nose which in turn led to two deep black pits that were once its eyes.

Armin claimed that this is most like to be the giant Klesvar the Keeper, who was the guardian of the ruins of Silvercross Castle, seat of the extinct House Schroder whose line had been ended long before the Reisses first set foot on Lovaya.

Berthold Reiss, the one they call the Great, first Reiss king and architect of the Lovayan Annexation, had fought the giant for the right to claim the old - and famously wealthy - Schroder lands. It had been a battle between giants, the histories say, yet in the end, the stalwart Klesvar proved no match for the other human-like behemoth that was the Titan. Berthold, possessed of the blood of Ancient Eldia, had been his generation’s wielder of the Titan they called the Founder, the first and most powerful of three in the keeping of the three Eldian Houses that had left their motherland seeking sanctuary from the Sundering that they claimed foreknowledge of. Berthold had built his own castle on top of what remained of the Keeper’s skull, that he might be laid to rest in the lands he had protected for so long, a tribute of sorts to an enemy well-fought and respected.

Eren has always thought that a good piece of history and wonders if you have already seen the skull. Perhaps he can show you tonight if you haven’t… something this monumentally historic is something you will surely appreciate.

He and Armin soon reach the bottom of the archway’s steps and emerge into a wide circular terrace. Five wooden benches line the balustrade; at the crest of the terrace’s arc, the balustrade opens up to the steep stone steps that lead to the vault below. Armin chooses the bench next to the one situated on the leftmost side of the terrace and sits down, Eren following suit.

“I’ve chosen a history book today,” Armin starts, opening Chronicles of the Warrior to his marked page. “It details the lives and feats of the most famous knights and military commanders Lovaya has ever seen. Karl Arlert the Kraken, lost his leg to a stray curse when he was younger, became the terror of the seas in his time. Arend Jaeger, the One-Eyed Falcon, who was the best commander of the Swans in the War of the Rivers. They say the Swans’ loss was due in large part to his death, and I’m inclined to agree. Sir Eren Grice, Ironhand, lost his sword hand in the Battle of Rybikhna and continued to serve as Lord Commander of the Royal Guard for another thirty years.”

“All right, I think you’ve made your point,” Eren Jaeger laughs. Warmth seeps inside him, made all the more potent by the darker feelings it replaces. He can see the place where Armin’s perusal comes from and greatly appreciates the effort. It is this more than anything else that further encourages him. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Armin blinks at him, yet there is something almost knowing about the blond boy’s gaze.

Eren hesitates, pondering. “For… any unpleasantness I might have shown you yesterday. I didn’t mean any of it, truly.”

Armin smiles. Any wariness that may have colored his expression vanishes. “I thought it was the guilt about the Lord Commander that fed that sentiment, so I understand.”

For a moment, Eren thinks he will continue but whatever else the other boy has to say did not come. The knowing look on his face seems to take on a new cast. Eren puzzles at it but does not pursue the matter. He turns his attention to Armin’s Chronicles. “Which warrior are you reading about now?”

“Sir Gerald Kirschtein.”

Eren almost laughs at that. His earlier dealing with another Kirschtein comes back to him then. The horseboy has a ways to go but with some work, perhaps that one will make a scion fit for such noble stock. Perhaps.

“Of course, no account of Sir Gerald’s life would be complete without the usual allegations,” Armin says matter-of-factly, as he turns his book’s page.

Eren frowns, irked. “The bastard rumors? I’ve always hated those. He’s one of the most honorable knights there ever was, he’d never stoop so low as to bed another man’s wife, least of all his king’s.”

“I suppose people would rather believe King Arthur was his bastard and not an abomination born of the incest between Berthold VIII and his sister. Arthur III is a much-beloved figure,” Armin answers fairly, glancing at him over the massive tome covering the entirety of his lap.

“But those rumors came from his true father who wanted to disinherit him, and I don’t put much stock in the words of the sisterfucking madman that Berthold VIII was. He wasn’t called the Grotesque for nothing.”

“Gerald and Cressida did love each other, though.”

“Courtly love, and unconsummated.”

And all at once, they are boys again, lounging in the large, airy sanctum of Seamont Castle in Lenberg and poring over one of Armin’s many books. One day, it would be a history; the next, an account of the exploits of some adventurer from some faraway kingdom. It was the best way Eren had come to learn about these matters, and it remained with him longer than the deadly dull dronings of some boring old Prior. It has been too long since last they’ve done this, and the reminder of what once was is pleasant. For now, at least, guilt and shame are distant things, and far away.

“The old lawyer’s been summoned to court?”

“He’s expected to arrive in the capital within the month for his audience with the king. At any rate, he should be able to catch the court before we leave for the summer progress.”

Hunts have always been something of a dicey subject in the Jaeger household, and the irony is not lost on Zeke Jaeger.

He had been much too young to have accompanied his parents to that fateful hunt and had not been close to hand to witness the accident that took his lady mother’s life. Even now, he sometimes still tries to put an image to his father’s account of that day and cannot quite grasp the enormity of it. It is hard to reconcile the mother he last saw alive and well to the bloodied, ruined mess of a woman his father had spoken of. His memories of her remain unmarred and intact, though; Death’s Hands spared them all the sight of her broken body as she lay in state for the funeral, covering her with a banner that featured the black chimera of House Fritz on its golden field quartered with the silver falconer on green of House Jaeger.

Hawking is another matter entirely, however.

Whatever else they might say about us, no one can claim we aren’t living up to our sigil. As it stands, this is the only sort of hunt that suits both Zeke’s and his father’s palates; broken saddle girths are less of a threat when you spend the entirety of the hunt afoot and looking after your own fowl. Eren, being Eren, is not as partial to the family custom, preferring the activity and adventure of a traditional hunt. Yet even he cannot deny his own excitement whenever his peregrine, aptly named Lance, fells its chosen quarry.

“Do my ears deceive me or is our youngest finally taking an interest in matters outside the sparring yard?” Lord Grisha walks over to his sons, having just deposited the hare his favorite kestrel had caught to a waiting attendant. The unnamed bird perches on one gloved arm, one sharp eye trained on the men before it and its bespectacled handler.

Eren frowns slightly, jerking his head back a little as Lance stretches and flaps his wings, buffeting his master’s face in the process. “Why shouldn’t I be interested in the Northern Matter? Like as not, I’ll be there to help finish it. I should know something about it, at least.”

“Well said, son,” Grisha laughs. “It’s just strange to hear you speak of such things. And about time, too, I say! But I suppose some of the fault lies with us… If you lack the acumen and interest in political matters, it is only because we coddled you too much, now that I think on it.”

That we did. But then, most second sons are subject to such treatment, it seems to Zeke. They are insurance, a failsafe to guarantee the continuation of their respective lines if the firstborn dies too soon. But more often than not, they are never brought up to shoulder the burden of the responsibility they may still yet receive one day. It is no wonder that some of their sort make for terrible heirs; some, not all, but some is more than enough.

Zeke hopes they hadn’t blinkered Eren too badly to the wider workings of the court. However, the older brother in him, the part that had always wanted a sibling to coddle, reigned supreme; he supposes their father had similar sentiments once his youngest had been born. They nurtured the boy’s dreams of knighthood, gave him the skills and knowledge necessary for the trade, and it became all he lived and breathed for until nothing else mattered. And the court is such a vicious place, perhaps part of them wants to keep at least one of the family from that mire. Whether that is for good or for ill is yet to be apparent.

“Ah, he’s a sharp lad, when he cares to be. He’ll catch up quick,” Zeke says, reaching out to ruffle Eren’s hair and ignoring the boy’s usual irritated swatting at him as he always does. He notes, with some melancholy, the inch in height his younger brother seems to have gained during his time away at campaign. He had as well savor the last few years, months perhaps, of being able to express his brotherly affection in such a manner. The Jaegers tend to height, and Zeke is more than passing certain that Eren will not prove to be an exception; he will not be the shortest of their immediate family for very long, that is for sure.

“If we are to speak of the Northern Matter, tell me, what do you think of this Father Robert?” Lord Grisha directs his query at his youngest, feeding a small morsel of hare to his waiting kestrel and watching it snap the meat up eagerly with a beak sharp as any dirk.

The frown on Eren’s face takes on a more thoughtful cast, and he looks around at the wide verdant expanse of Alyrya’s Arbor, where the Reisses have run game for hunting four hundred years and counting. The park is located a little ways north of Midford Castle and is part of many a noble’s leisurely haunts. It is just now teeming with fresh spring life; waterfowl and smaller prey are much in abundance, and the wind is cool and bracing, which makes for excellent conditions for an expedition. To the west, Alyrya’s Vase comes roaring down the surrounding cliffs to join its waters to the Woodisle, adding a wild cadence to the air. Further north lies the Crown Woods, where larger prey is to be had; deer, elk, boar, and other beasts run wild thereabouts, free for the taking for any intrepid hunter.

It cannot have been a better day, and it is like to be the last of its kind for the rest of the season. The Month of Showers has come upon them at last and the threat of the season’s promised downpours has driven several of the nobility, some of whom are their own lords vassal, out to the woods to take advantage of the perfect weather. Eren’s eyes alight on Lord Forster’s thirdborn, Floch, and stays there, unseeing. “I didn’t really get to meet the man in truth, but I saw enough of him to think that that one has steel in him. Old steel, to be sure, but steel nonetheless. I guess you can expect nothing less from a lawyer - they wouldn’t have chosen him to be the mouth of the northern faction if he wasn’t.”

“An interesting observation. I’ll be sure to keep it in mind,” says Grisha, smiling slightly. “They’re a tricky sort, these lawyers. Almost as tricky as us politicians. Still, I have yet to meet a lawyer who could outfox a statesman worth his salt. But I’ll be sure to tread carefully around this man all the same.”

“If the gods are good, we can settle this matter once and for all. But disputes surrounding land are some of the hardest to mediate… Lovaya is prodigious, more than large enough for all, I believe, yet you’d think it was sinking into the sea day by day with the way we try and amass more of it for ourselves.” Zeke nods at the kennel master, who releases his big white bitch to flush more of the waterfowl out from where they have settled amongst the reeds on the riverbank. Kesara, named for the Messenger herself, brings down her third duck of the day, much to Zeke’s approval. Good haul today.

“It’s all a matter of greed in the end,” Lord Grisha mutters darkly, a shadow falling over his face at the thought of his foremost adversary.

Eren’s eyes flicker over to their father and back to the vista before them. “It’s no more than what any noble has done before. It’s for the northmen to defend what is theirs by rights. If they lose ground, it’s only because they aren’t strong enough to keep it.”

Zeke moves off then to see to his merlin. The boy speaks sense, he supposes; Shiganshina, and any of the other States for that matter, will be half of what it is now if their forerunners had not the strength to push on to conquer and keep what they have conquered. That does not mean he finds the notion any less… disquieting coming from his brother like that. Perhaps it is the way he said it. Perhaps it is the fact that this more than anything else makes Zeke realize how little he truly knows of the inner workings of Eren’s mind.

He trudges back up toward his father and brother with Kesara perched on his right arm; the duck she caught dangles from his left hand, limp and listless. Lord Grice nods to him in passing, attended by his nephews, Colt, his heir, and little Falco, who is nominated to be Eren’s squire once he earns his knighthood as a favor to the Grice boy's staunch and stalwart uncle.

Zeke is pleased to note that the family discussion has moved on to the upcoming Mother’s Day celebration. Until he remembers what it entails.

“Have you sent fairings to Ymir yet? I don’t know what to get for her this year,” Eren says forlornly, to Zeke’s fond amusement.

“Just get her a doll, she’s still at that age, after all,” he waves away his brother’s fretting as he hands over his catch to the attendant.

Eren huffs at that. “She has enough of those to fill Highridge thrice over,” he mutters, turning away and smoothing back Lance’s wayward feathers as he does so.

“Speaking of the upcoming holy day, I expect Elva to be in attendance at the rite,” Grisha states, looking pointedly at Zeke, who feels his mouth tighten into a thin line.

And there it is. It is the one thing he is dreading about Elena’s Day. If he could have sent the bitch away to Highridge, far from sight and mind, he would have done so long ago. Yet he cannot risk the woman poisoning his own daughter and only heir against him, and there are her duties as one of Queen Linda’s chief ladies-in-waiting to consider… Putting her aside for another, more pleasant woman is out of the question as well, as far as his father is concerned. The Riehls are an old, rich House, vassals to the Fritzes, and they cannot afford to lose this connection under any circumstances. The only good use the bint is for is for fucking, and even that is suspect. He will be forever grateful to Richard Reiss I for thinking to add secret passages within Midford. Indulging in his more covert… passions has never been so easy.

“Of course, Father, it is the day for family, after all,” Zeke replies coolly. From the corner of his eye, he can see Eren furtively sidle away to the kennel master once the air between his older kin turns a touch heavier. Something inside Zeke finds that rather comically endearing.

Grisha looks at him a few moments longer from behind his lenses. “Good,” he says, turning to watch the big white bitch make her run once more toward the riverbank. “There is nothing more important than family when all is said and done.”

“Yes,” Zeke murmurs, watching Eren’s Lance dart up toward the sky and start harrying a heron twice its size. “There is nothing more important than family.” The peregrine makes a swift, steep dive, quick as lightning, and finally brings down its larger quarry, pinning it hard against the ground amidst the tall, swaying grasses.

The smell of incense is strong in the air. Some find it pleasant; you find it thick, and heavy, and dizzying.

The Lady Theresia Dietrich is hardly the first of Paradisian stock to be wed to the Old Blood of Vascalin, and like those before her, she found her influence much diminished. The Old Blood runs strong in the State, and they have ever been resistant to outside forces who would attempt to meddle with their long-held customs.

That did not mean the new ways did not find room to sow their seeds in old soil. Over the centuries, Vascalin had learned to tolerate the new blood, perhaps not as liberally as the rest of the realm but certainly much better than their northern peers in Kostrokan. Small temples sprouted all over the State like mushrooms after rain, and the nobility had taken to employing Paradisian priests and advisors into their households. Soon after came the marriages, yet the Vascalene highborn took great care never to let their new spouses hold sway over them.

Over a thousand years on and not much has changed in that regard. As it stands, most of the Vascalene nobility will not have gone to the lengths Lord Alexander had for his outsider wife, yet love has a way of working through these things. It was at her insistence that the family observe the Paradisian holy day of families every year and Alexander, ever genial and accommodating and smitten with his lady wife, indulged her wish.

You cough delicately into the sheer silk cloth of your kerchief, carefully avoiding looking over at the boy who has just occupied your mind for the umpteenth time. The Jaegers have taken up a place at the forefront of the transept near the Mother’s monument, just a little ways away from where you and your family have stationed yourselves, and so you have an unimpeded view of the many faces Eren has been making at you the very moment you had caught each other’s eyes.

He spent the past half hour of the ceremony doing his utmost best to get you to break the mask that he claims to hate so much, and twice he nearly succeeded, much to your infuriated and reluctant amusement. You resolved several times to look away, only to find yourself taking a peek (just a quick one, just this once, it’ll be the last) and falling prey to one ridiculous face after another. Before long, the both of you had made a game of it, with the rest of your families none the wiser. You still cannot believe how absurd he can get sometimes; you would think he is a child and not a boy less than a year from manhood. And yet, that is what you like about him the most. He makes you feel half a girl again, and it is most freeing.

You sweep your gaze around the ornate transept in a bid to distract yourself from your betrothed, who you know is willing you to look at him once more. You take in the massive marble likeness of the Mother, Lady Elena, in front of you all; the beautiful window of stained glass showing another image of her set above the wall behind the monument; the crystal chandeliers and the smaller statues of a cow-headed woman (another depiction of the Lady Elena) nestling in alcoves around the walls, and feel yourself duly awed.

You are glad your mother chose to attend the day’s rites in the Great Temple instead of in the smaller, more private one within the palace grounds. You can never tire of the absolute opulence of this place. It is great in form as well as in name, that nobody can deny.

While the Creed traditionally keeps individual temples for each of the twelve gods, the Great Temple presumes to house all of them all at once, to magnificent results. It is the second-most largest building in Belris and rivals Midford Castle in luxury and splendor, with its towering marble dome and twelve soaring belltowers, one for each of the new gods.

It is no less striking within. Its vast, circular antechamber, likewise made of the finest marble, leads to twelve transepts where each god holds court. Amos, the Father, resides beside Elena, the Mother, as is right and proper. Next comes the Old Man of the Sea, Nyrdos; the Oracle, Niheia, goddess of wisdom and knowledge and the arts, patron of the Priors; the Sun and the Moon, Lusin and Dedsin; Tardon, the Warrior, beloved of knights; the Lover, Lyias, the Whole of Two Halves; the Smith, Ilvisar, favored by craftsmen and those who strive to create; Kesara, the Messenger, who brought the first dove into the world; the Gardener, Alyrya, mistress of farmers and the fields; and lastly, nameless Death, the Rider, whose transept is almost always empty of custom.

Today, the Mother’s transept is filled to the brim with worshipers consisting mostly of women, children, and families, the ones under her special protection. You look around at your own family congregated around you and feel a pang of wistfulness, knowing you are missing two of your number. Little Oliver is much too young to go to court and Tibor, being a novice of the Parliament, is encouraged to see as little as possible of his own House. He will be sent to serve some other House once he masters his trade and must therefore put aside his old loyalties; most like you will never see him again unless circumstances permit it.

You glance at Lydia, knowing well how much she misses her twin brother. Yet she seems to be holding up well without his much yearned for presence, for which you are glad.

Your eyes flicker over to the foot of the Mother’s monument where the Matriarch stands, deep in prayer over the as-of-yet unburnt sacrifice of cow’s meat, pomegranates, chameleon lilies, and golden lotuses piled in the massive iron brazier before her. Or tried to, at least. You somehow manage to catch the eye of your betrothed once more, who quickly sticks out his tongue at you, making you purse your lips to hide your smile. The ceremony cannot end fast enough.

But end it does at last, and you find yourself trailing behind your parents after the Matriarch’s blessing as they stride forward to hail the Jaegers and exchange pleasantries. It amused you to no end to see Matron Gudrun struggle to keep her motherly composure as she gave Eren her blessing, nostrils flared and eyes burning a hole through his chest where his own mother’s beloved key lay.

“Gods, that mask of yours sure is hard to break,” Eren murmurs, sidling up to stand beside you with his hands behind his back, looking exceptionally handsome today in red and gold. “I don’t know if I like that at all,” he adds, looking slightly crestfallen at the thought.

“I’m glad to know I can keep it up under any circumstance,” you whisper back, trying to tamp down the rush of thrill you can feel coursing through you at the sight of him wearing your House colors. It is astonishing just how much red favors his looks.

“But not with me,” Eren chirps, grabbing your hand and tugging you a step forward. “May I steal you away, my lady?”

You look at him in surprise, before glancing at your elders, who seem to have finally taken notice of your little exchange. Your father gives the both of you an encouraging nod and Eren inclines his head respectfully, gently leading you away to join the throng of worshipers making their way out of the transept into the Temple’s antechamber.

“Are you sure you’d rather not spend your time with your family today? It is the day for family, after all,” you venture, glancing at the back of his dark head as you pass through the transept’s entrance.

Eren lets out a noncommittal sound and answers, “I’d rather not be around a certain Lord and Lady Jaeger, if you catch my meaning. And besides, we’ll be family soon enough.”

A burst of heat crawls up your face at that, and you quickly glance at him, wishing you could have seen his face as he said that; but the flushed tips of his ears and the back of his neck tell the tale of his feelings well enough. You look down at the elaborate mosaic of the twelve sacred beasts you have just walked over, biting your lip, and hasten your steps so you can walk beside him; you squeeze his hand gently and feel him do so likewise. This is looking to be a most exhilarating day indeed.

Even the leaden sky above cannot dampen your spirits. “Oh, we’d best hurry. There’s a smell of rain in the air.” And it is rousing and invigorating and makes you feel more alive than anything else ever could have at the moment. A gust of wind blows across the Temple’s courtyard, lifting the sheer pale blue silk of your veil into the air.

Eren takes one look at you and draws you aside beneath the great stone colonnade that parts the courtyard from the gardens. You give him a curious look and are just about to ask him what is wrong when he moves to stand behind you. You stiffen in surprise as you feel him reach up toward the back of your head. There is a gentlest of tugs followed by the sensation of him smoothing back the stray hairs he has dislodged from your silver filigree hairpiece in his endeavor, and he reemerges, walking back to his preceding place in front of you with your veil in his arms.

“Pretty but cumbersome, don’t you think?” he says, folding the cloth neatly into a small parcel.

“Now you’ll be the one encumbered,” you point out, distractedly smoothing down the pale blue and silver skirts of your gown.

Eren snorts a little and flourishes the small square of silk in front of you. “By this flimsy thing? It’s hardly more than a wisp, easily kept in my belt.”

“Well, then, thank you, kind sir. At least let me keep it in my own person,” you smile, taking your veil from him and stowing it away in the pocket of your gown where you keep your kerchief. “But I must confess, I did not expect to be doing much vigorous exploring today, aside from exploring the special booths, and that’s hardly vigorous at all. Hence the cumbersome veil.”

“We’ll keep it short, and it seems the weather is eager to do that for us anyway. I’d like to look around as much as I can before the clouds break.” Eren takes your hand in his once more, and you proceed to leave the Temple grounds, passing the massive fountain of the Twelve at the center of the yard. “And I want to see if I can find a good Elena’s Day present for Ymir,” Eren raises his voice above the loud crashing of the fountain’s waters as it pours endlessly down into a great stone basin from the twelve mouths of the twelve sacred beasts arrayed at the heart of the structure.

“Oh, I’d like to get her something, too,” you put in interestedly, mind instantly going through a list of fairings you can send the girl. Dolls? No, she probably has enough of those to last her a lifetime. A bag of marchpane treats? Perhaps… Or a nice pin for her hair, something that’ll look pretty with all that gold…

“Fairings from the soon-to-be aunt by marriage, that’s nice,” Eren says lightly, half-bashful and half-teasing.

“Yes,” you cough, looking away briefly to gather your bearings before saying, “It’s been almost a week since Klesvar and I still haven’t grown warts on my feet, just so you know. You fretted for nothing.”

Eren laughs as you descend the steps leading to one of the many plazas in Belris, Silver Oak, where most of the city’s craftsmen congregate. “All right, fair enough. I, too, haven’t grown any warts on either foot. But who takes off her shoes when climbing atop the head of a long-dead giant, I ask you?”

“The soles wouldn’t grip properly, I told you. And I made sure to thoroughly scrub my feet afterward, so it was all well and good,” you wave away his remark and lead him further into the plaza, which is enjoying little custom on account of the approaching deluge.

A stall selling hairpins, brooches, and other such trinkets catches your eye, and you make your way over curiously, letting go of Eren’s hand as you do so. The stallkeep looks up and flashes you an inviting smile, eager to get at least some patronage today; it flickers slightly as he catches sight of Eren and his key pendant, yet he quickly recovers, turning his full attention upon you instead. “A blessed Mother’s Day to you, my lady.”

“And to you, goodman,” you return his smile and examine his wares closely as Eren hovers over your shoulder.

“Oh? When’s the happy nuptials?”

You glance up, only to find the stallkeep eyeing the black pearl dangling from the silver chain around your neck.

“Next year.”

You look around at Eren as he speaks and watch the softest of smiles grace his comely face.

“Ah, you have my most sincere congratulations!” the stallkeep beams (a little nervously, you think), then apologetically tacks on, “I would normally offer you a bargain on my wares but considering the state of business today… well, I hope my lady understands.”

That you do well enough and obligingly pay the man the full price of one silver crescent for an exquisitely made silver comb adorned with a bird in flight.

One stall catches Eren’s eye afterward, that of a woodcarver who is selling the most beautifully crafted figures you have seen in a long while. You come upon him at his work, and you note how closely Eren watches the man as he deftly whittles away at the small block of wood in his skilled hands.

You soon find your mind wandering as Eren engages the stallkeep in conversation. Your eyes land upon a dollmaker in the stall next to the woodcarver’s, and you are startled to see the look of absolute distaste on his face as he gazes over at the both of you. Slipping on a mask of cool indifference comes easy, and you furtively look over at your betrothed, who seems to be the object of the other stallkeep’s disapproval. For a moment, you think the man merely envious of the woodcarver’s custom, until you see where the dollmaker’s attention truly lies. Of course.

“Tch, did you see the way that dollmaker looked at me? You’d think I fucked his maiden daughter,” Eren grumbles under his breath, as you leave the woodcarver’s stall with his purchase safely tucked away in his leather money bag.

You giggle at that and take his hand in yours. “He must’ve thought you one of those blasphemous Death worshipers. Really, I’d have thought you’d get used to the nasty stares by now, but you have this remarkable way of shutting those out. Always the rebel, aren’t you?”

Eren glances down at his mother’s key resting upon his chest and rolls his eyes to the overcast skies above. “Superstitious cunts, the whole lot of them.”

“Oh, it takes balls to wear that pendant to a holy rite, in the Great Temple no less. I thought the Matriarch was going to strangle you with it, her holy vows be damned.”

Eren chokes on his laughter and incredulity. “Lady Crass shows her face again.”

“Thought about her a lot, have you?” you grin wickedly, enjoying the play of crimson embarrassment washing over his face and trying not to think too deeply on what that may entail.

A guttural sound escapes your betrothed’s throat, and he mutters something under his breath as he quickens his pace, following the familiar path back to the castle.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that?” you press, stifling the laughter in your voice as you half-jog to keep up.

“I said we had best get home since we’re done here.”

You cannot have done so at a better time. The first few fat droplets start pelting down the very moment you slip through Midford’s front doors, and soon enough, the cloudburst is upon you in earnest.

Reluctant to part ways just yet, you invite Eren to your father’s solar for a game of qaxan, which he accepts with a determined look on his face.

You play on the small marble table in front of the chamber’s terrace doors, which are just now closed to keep out the rain, though the long, red velvet curtains framing the doorway are still tied back, affording you a view of one of the smaller castle gardens. The fires have been lit as well, bathing the room in a soothing wash of warmth. You set up your respective pieces behind the qaxan screen, fire and rain the only things breaking the comfortable silence that has descended upon the solar.

A glance out at the terrace prompts you to remark, “You know, I’ve always thought rain trees a fascinating plant.”

Eren pauses in his rumination of the board to glance out the doors at the rainswept vista. “I know what you mean. They only bloom in rain, but their flowers absolutely do not bring to mind rain in any way, shape, or form.”

They certainly are an oddity. Fire-bright blooms break through the gray drabness outside, striking and conspicuous, making it look as though a bolt of lightning had struck the tree and set it ablaze.

“Their blossoms should be blue, something like a winter rose or Cornelia’s Tears. Or they should’ve called it a fire tree instead, even though it only blooms in rain,” Eren continues, as he carefully sets up his array.

He has started to take his time with the game, you note, ever since his… debacle in the North. While he has yet to win a game still, what few sessions you had had over the past week or so had grown a touch bit longer than before. Part of you is grimly pleased with the progress; the change may have come about due to dire circumstances but you find it highly fascinating. It will seem that Eren, when stripped of haste and impatience, is a lot sharper and more astute than he initially seems.

You put your last mountain into place and glance up at him. “I suppose people love toying around with names. It’s just like moon cakes, which are truly moon pies, whatever else people insist on calling it.”

Eren chuckles at that and pronounces himself ready to begin the game. You remove the screen and take the measure of his arrayed army. An interesting formation. You advance a catapult one square to the left.

“I plan to go back to that woodcarver tomorrow, weather permitting. If you want, you can come with.” There is a note of hopefulness in his voice as he moves his spearmen.

You answer with your own spearmen. “Oh? Have you not bought what you needed to today?”

“Let’s just say Ymir’s going to have to wait a while for her present. I would’ve sent mine with yours but, well…” His archers come into play, to bolster his spearmen.

You give him a brief intrigued glance, before advancing your charioteers a square. “So, I take it that figure you bought was not her actual present.”

“No.” A most mysterious smile graces his face as he moves his archers once more. “It’ll take a while but I think it’ll be more special that way.”

“Will you tell me if I ask what it is you’re planning? No, I didn’t think so,” you sigh, as he merely shakes his head at you, enigmatic smile still in place.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“Speaking of Ymir,” you look up at him a little cautiously, before plunging on, “you said something about Zeke and Lady Elva earlier in the Temple… how is your father taking all of that?”

A shadow falls over Eren’s face fleetingly. You hurry to apologize and change the subject yet he answers, “Most like he’s in his solar avoiding any… altercations between husband and wife, if they haven’t stormed off into their own respective chambers by now. It’s never much of a family day with those two around.” He brings out one of his giants to play to further defend his mountain passes. “I just realized we never really get a chance to lounge around in Father’s solar. He practically lives in the place.”

“He is the Magister, I wouldn’t expect anything less, honestly.” You roll out your trebuchet, ready to catch out his giant if he blunders.

Eren looks around at the fort of the Praetor’s political life, expression pensive. “One day, this’ll all be yours.”

“Not any time soon, gods willing.”

“It’s fast approaching, though. You’ve been spending more and more time behind that finely carved desk these days.” He moves his giant two squares, and you pounce, making his mouth thin in displeasure.

“I do have to learn my trade. And Father makes it look so easy…” You pick up your golden dragon, toying with it a moment before setting it down in favor of one of your own giants. “Speaking of trades,” you flash him a look, part considering, part teasing, “I was wondering how you’d fare as my castellan.”

Eren chokes on air at your statement, looking at you with wide eyes. “Castellan? Me?”

“How not? Plenty of great knights make fine castellans, it’s an honorable post.”

“Yes, but…” Eren looks down at the board, and melancholy bleeds into his expression. “I don’t know if I have the ability to run a household like yours. I’m not…” He hunches in on himself, and you feel your heart go out to him.

Once you fall in love, my child, his joy and grief and anger… all of that will be yours. From two now as one, as you will swear to the old gods someday.

“That day, when you first taught me the ways of this game,” you glance up at him, heart pounding inexplicably and fingers itching to tangle themselves together upon the marble tabletop, “when you played with Armin…”

His brow furrows, but he pushes on, “I realized just how much in common the both of you have. Both southron, both heirs to High Houses, both quick and smart and clever and so… far ahead of me.” He picks up his dragon, turning it over in his hands and watching the light gleam over its red lacquered body. “I’ve never felt so left behind, so inadequate until that moment. I’m glad you think me worthy of that kind of service to you,” he flashes you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “but I just can’t see myself reaching that goalpost.”

“It’s not a race, you know.” You tap the head of your dragon idly, watching surprise part his mouth as his gaze once again lights up. “Life. You don’t need to catch up to anyone, least of all me and Armin. And I don’t think it should matter how long you get to that goalpost of yours. Why not go at your own pace? I believe you’ll get there in the end. And besides,” you smile a little as he removes your spearmen from the board, “I think it is you who are moving too fast. Maybe you should be less concerned about haste and learn to see the value of slowing down.”

The memory of the northern campaign lies unspoken between you, the last time he had tried to move too fast and had ended up doing more harm than good. The truth of his part in the Lord Commander’s mishap is practically unknown to the rest of the court, even to the rest of the detachment that had been with them that day, and the fact is not lost on you. The chaos and confusion of battle had served to muddle the incident, and those few who are privy to the fact have hushed it all up; whether or not this is because they are mindful of who Eren’s father is, you are not certain.

“Yes... you’re right. I’m just upset that it took something so… disastrously momentous to make me see that,” Eren sighs, watching as you move your dragon to the center of the board.

“And I don’t think you’ll ever be inadequate, Eren,” you say quietly. “If running a household is not to your strengths, then it’s not. There will always be duties better suited to you.”

“Still, now that you’ve put it forward… the idea finally has some merit…”

Your dragon moves forward a square. “I suppose Zeke and Lord Grisha have taught you some things about running a household?”

“Well, yes, they have. But I will admit, I wasn't... the best of students.” At your look, he adds almost shamefacedly, “You know how I am... those matters aren't exactly the most interesting of subjects, are they? But I'm not an entirely lost cause, I don't think. I learn better with Sir Hannes.” Sir Hannes Ahrendt is the Jaegers' castellan. You had met the man the past autumn and thought him pleasant enough. “He was a right old sot before Father set him straight, but our household’s never run as smoothly as it does under his helm. I like to follow him around when I’m bored, ask questions… not really what you’d call proper tuition but-”

“I think it’s plenty good, more practical,” you tell him, and the smile he flashes you lights up his eyes so prettily. “And it’s not solely you who’ll be running the household. You’ll have a steward, a Prior… me.”

“Then, I suppose I’m in good hands.” He removes one of your charioteers, and his smile takes on a more triumphant cast. “This is one of those things I wish Mother was still here to teach me about… I’m sure she ran a great household.”

“I’m sure she did.” You eye the key pendant he is wearing underneath the golden chain of his betrothal necklace as he rolls up the sleeves of his crimson tunic to his elbows. “I truly admire the strength of your devotion to her memory, to weather others’ censure like that.”

He glances down at the key on his chest, looking equal parts wistful and annoyed. “The opinions of superstitious cunts don’t concern me. It’s just a bloody key when all is said and done.”

“Hmm, true enough.” A giggle bursts through your lips as you remove one of his catapults. “Ah, the Matriarch’s face when she was blessing you was worth its own painting. I don’t think she’s the kind of cunt you’d like to cross, though, by the look of her.”

“How in the bloody hell did you get so crass?” Eren shakes his head at you as he toys with a trebuchet. You realize, with a small thrill of horror, that your dragon is in very real peril of going down if that piece is played. “It’s the farthest thing people will think, to look at you.” Under his breath, he mutters, “Is what they say about southron girls true…?”

“Oh?” The slyest of smirks curves your lips. “Do tell, Eren. What do they say about southron girls?” You lean across the table, crossing your arms against the marble top and watching the apple of his throat bob a little as his eyes flicker down to the curve of your breasts, visible atop the bodice of your gown. Distracted, he abandons his trebuchet to move his dragon two squares to the left. “That we’re wild, wanton… hot-blooded?” Your voice lowers, eyes fixed resolutely on his as he leans back in his chair, face flushed. “That it’s the climate making us so, that famous southron heat?” You laugh at that and remove his dragon with a flourish. “We’re no more wanton than any other woman in the realm, gods be good.”

Eren looks down at the board, seeming to come out of his daze, and stares at you a good, long while. “That’s not fair.”

“War is never fair, Eren, we make use of whatever advantage we have to hand to better our chances at victory,” you riposte, straightening up a little in your own seat. But the way he gazes at you then gives you pause.

“I do think about her a lot, Lady Crass,” he says, and there is something in his voice that makes gooseflesh rise up your arms. He tilts his head a little at you.

He’s never looked at me that way. Never. Never.

“Ever since that night she first put in an appearance, I’ve been most curious about her.”

You wrench your eyes away from his, watching him move his giant towards one of your mountain passes. You move your dragon a square closer.

“And I confess… I wonder how much liberty she’ll allow me with her body… if she’s willing… willing to let me touch, kiss… more perhaps…”

He moves a trebuchet. Your dragon flies ever closer to the giant.

You have fallen thrall to his voice. You raise your eyes to meet his once more, and you are lost. He seems more a man to you then, and you wonder how it is that you have come to overlook this fact, come to overlook the broadness of his shoulders, the sharpness of his jaw, the lean muscle of his forearms as he crosses them against the table.

“Now I wonder…” His gaze seems to smolder as he looks at you. You have never seen fire burn green until now. “If you’d let me sate my lusts with you.”

You move your dragon a square, and he removes it from the board, quick as lightning.

For a moment, you can only stare at him. The room has gone unbearably, stiflingly hot. “That’s not fair.”

One corner of his mouth turns up into the most self-satisfied of smirks. “War is never fair,” he says, voice low, and the way your name pours off his lips makes the heat under your skin flare.

You narrow your eyes at him, digging deep for the cool, calm head of Lady Rhyzkova. “I don’t need a dragon to defeat you.”

“No, but I’ll think you’ll be more hard-pressed to.” The hint of smug superiority in his tone makes you bristle, and it is this more than anything else that gives you the drive to finally trounce him several moves later.

“See, I didn’t need a dragon to beat you,” you say, victorious and elated.

“Yes, I yield, I yield,” he smiles, looking a good deal less upset at this loss than he had his earlier ones. He glances at your father’s timepiece and stands up from his seat. “Will you go down to dinner tonight?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“I’ll be seeing you then?” The way he gazes down at you almost makes you squirm in your seat. Almost.

“Yes, of course.” The breath you have been holding on to during your small exchange leaves you as a small gasp the moment the door of your father’s solar closes behind your betrothed’s form. You look down at your hands, dimly noting the tremors that shake them, and tangle them together on your lap.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

***

...my plans of updating by Aug. 21 have been shot to hell, lmao.

That aside, things have slowed down again for a while, but it'll pick up once more soon enough, I'm definitely setting up more things for the main climax in this and the next few chapters. And this one's another long chapter at 10.3K, I hope I didn't overdo it with this one (I just love expounding on things ajshdkshdsksds).

I hope you all like this one, and as always, thank you for reading! :D

Tagging: @princess-jaeger @lukepattersin

#eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #eren jeager x reader #Eren Jaeger #eren yeager #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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six-of-ravens · 1 month

Text

daily update:

for some reason since last night my brain has decided to get Big Mad about something that happened like 6 months ago. just basically trying to Constantly Distract Myself lol. Idk why my brain is this fucked up but I blame it on the weather, the wild swings between sunny and warm spring weather and dark cold winter are brutal on the mental health lol.

also i haven't left the apartment since Monday (except a quick trip down to the mailbox today) so that might be why my brain is acting up. my anxiety gets real bad if I don't leave the house for more than 1 day in a row (lockdown was a FUN time in this brain) and I think for lack of anything real to be anxious about my brain is just going "hey remember that asshole from July? let's be mad at him again!!"

on the plus side, was actually able to be productive at work today! the past 2 days were just a lot of spinning my wheels while the PM for this project works herself into a tizzy, because I don't know what I need to do (if anything) and I can't handle her ranting anymore. Apparently the boss is getting pretty tired of her too tho so I think he had A Talk with her about not skype-spamming with her whole thought process. Also, she always intersperses her updates with "I have other things to work on too!" type comments which are driving everyone insane bc like yeah, we all do too! so just fkn get this last list of revisions sent over so we can finish this!!

so yeah, work is a...joy. right now. at least we got to work from home today too lol, we got waaaaay more snow than they predicted.

i did take a 3 hour nap after work today tho (necessary, bc last night I was up until 2am and my brain would not get off this spiral) and had those good good adventure-quest dreams, so.

oh also I finally checked the mail and my laika pin from pangur-and-grim arrived!! she is baby 🥺 she lives on the pin jacket now:

anyway, plan for tonight is to try and decompress by listening to music and maybe writing. i also *still* haven't really started Fellowship bc I just haven't been in the brainspace for it (though maybe I should try...having to intensely focus on a book with very small print might be what my brain needs)

also, going from reading children's books with like 18pt font to a dense fantasy novel with like 8pt font is quite the change. highly intimidating!

I have made progress on ToTK and FFIII though, in totk I beat Master Kogha and then finally got my purah pad upgraded with the sensor, travel medallions, etc etc. I can't believe i missed all of this stuff at the beginning of the game lol. in FFIII I'm back at the Nepto Temple, which is one of my least favourite levels due to having to use Mini which makes your weapons useless. Ah well, the quests after this are interesting at least.

oh and finally, I got some sprouts in my garden! I'm kind of amazed at how much stuff has already sprouted, most notably the lettuce (but also a half-dozen other random things):

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heckinconfusedparade · 1 year

Note

Here’s a wee little challenge, my mate!

Nine, Thorn, and Dread meeting their main counterparts!

I know I’ve said this before, but I LOVE the way you think!

Nine & Tails

Sonic introduced them after figuring out how to regain communication with the shatterverse universes. Nine was so caught up in the joy of getting to see Sonic again, that he totally forgot that Sonic has Tails back now. So their meeting is.. a bit awkward. In front of Nine stood the fox he wanted to be. A life he longed for not long ago.

Tails however is stoked to meet another version of himself! He has so many questions! Nine is not a fan. Tails realizes and apologizes. He just thinks he’s so cool! He says that to him which shocks Nine, never thinking that could find a self appreciation method in this way.

Tails does manage to gain the 7 extra tails blueprint. He’s so happy! Nine asks Tails why he allows himself to be called Tails if it’s the reason why he was teased in the first place. Tails said he never really liked his real name so Sonic gave him a new one, which was Tails. It just stuck. Tails asks Nine how he got his name, and Nine just. Brings out all his tails and Tails is like “oh! I should’ve caught on.”

These two aren’t very alike attitude wise, plus Tails has everything Nine wants, so Nine is giving him a little bit of a cold shoulder, which makes Tails sad, but he understands once Sonic explains to him the situation.

Rusty Rose & Amy Rose

Amy tries to be nice. She really does. But Rusty doesn’t return the favour. Rusty is more focused on Amy herself. Rusty feels a sense of familiarity but can’t pin what. Rusty doesn’t have to be a killing machine anymore, so her existence, in her opinion, is not very useful. Amy wishes she could do more for her. Rusty is mostly quiet, and just listens to what Amy wants to say. Amy can’t help but feel very nervous around her, knowing that she was a killing machine. Amy believes that anyone, even robots can change, but still. Scary.

Amy does learn of Birdies presence and it makes her feel sick. It’s so messed up. Unfortunately, without Birdie, Rusty won’t be able to live, which is not something either of them want. Amy is trying to get Tails to develop a battery that can replace Birdie. He’s working on it!

Dread & Knuckles

Dread at first glance is just a happy go lucky guy who just wants to party all night. Knuckles doesn’t like him too much because he’s not sure how he feels about a version of himself who isn’t as serious. He’s gotta admit he’s fun to hang around tho.

But.. then Dread learns about the Master Emerald and the Chaos Emeralds. He wants it. And nothing is getting in his way.. except for Knuckles who actually knows how to fight.

Yea they aren’t friends.

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theirloveisgross · 9 months

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Is this a thing? Origin stories? So I was pretty ill last summer, and for some reason Harry kept popping up everywhere, especially on my instagram explore page that I was browsing bedridden and out of boredom. In hindsight it was probably because of hslot. So I started to view clips of him every now and then, and suddenly my explore page was full of him and funny one direction videos, that let me to louis who was just starting to promote the fitf singles (and I loved his new sound!). Anyway, soon I couldn’t escape the funny 1D compilations and they really cheered me up so much when I was unwell, but I’m sure we all know they are a short, steep and slippery slide down the larry-rabbit hole. Cue youtube videos and master posts and just the whole mayhem and at some point I ended back up at tumblr, found a bunch of blogs and kept following the people those people would repost from and now my feed is full of Louis and Harry and the rest of the boys.

Never have I ever been a part of a fandom that causes me this level of unease tho, and I think it comes from ppl shipping two real people in a very intrusive way. I’m not talking about you lot I follow here of course, but some people can’t seem to behave and understand that there’s sort of a fourth wall that you’re not supposed to break? Like keep the fandom within the fandom bubble, it doesn’t belong out there in the real world.

That being said, you lot here bring me so much joy at a time when life’s been a bit heavy sometimes! And this fandom has so so much talent it’s crazy!! The writers and artists and gif makers and just everyone here is so crazy talented and fun! So kudos to y’all!!

Hi!

Ah, yes... Harry's tour and his new album, everything exploded last year. I'm so glad you found them then and they provided you with some distraction. They can be... very distracting. I still don't know how to get less distracted, tbh.

Your second paragraph... *sigh* Yes, I hear you. That was something I had to wrap my head around the first few months. The intrusiveness of it all? I felt guilty, too, just by looking at videos being slowed down frame by frame of their reactions, or moments, or whatever. It still feels a bit weird, ngl, but it's so... "normalized" here, in this bubble, that I feel "okay" with it. I do agree with you though, that fandom belongs in the fandom. I still remember that "Sing Walls if Larry is real" sign in Washington last year. We saw it before the show, and we rolled our eyes, and I was like "why would people bring this stuff to their shows", but then Louis did what he did (and trust me, I looked at every angle possible, I am very skeptical about these things, but I was stunned). Why? Why did he do that in the way he did it? Hahajha. Listen- who knows? Maybe they were in a very good place relationship-wise and he was feeling frisky about it. Or... he was just being a little shit and knew the chaos it would cause. Or... yeah, idk. It's hard, and I think it all stems from the 1D days, especially the last year, when the Bears were the stars of the show and how they "communicated" with us through them. And it fucks you up a bit... but people forget circumstances, as well. Things change... they're not in the same band anymore, being worked to death, asked to behave in certain ways and whatnot, or asked to do things they don't want. They're on their own now, and I do believe they appreciate the privacy they have after not being seen together all the time and people thinking they haven't seen each other since... 2016? It's genius, if you ask me. Like, hey, we can be ourselves, in our own little world and nobody's gonna dissect how we move, or if we can even look at each other. And I think things shifted for them in regards of "communicating", it feels like they don't have to, and sometimes some of the things we see, might just be because they're so in tune with each other that these things happen on their own. Not everything, but just some things some people love hammering on about. Okay, I'm rambling here and going on a tangent, and not properly curating my thoughts, sorry...

ANYWAY. I'm glad you're here! :) The talent in the fandom is amazing, I feel so lucky we have people that want to share their work that they do in their free time for free with us all. Love to all! <3

Anyone who sees this and has joined the fandom in the last year or so, send me a message if you want. I’m so curious what was your starting point, what made you go “Larry?” and then “OMG LARRY!”, hajdhahs.

#larrie births #lmao that got long and rambley

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mushroom-for-art · 8 months

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When I visit my family I sometimes get to sit and watch Avatar the last air bender with my little brother and of course as I have consumed media that's my ocs problem now, so gonna make a list under the readmore of what kind of benders my two ocs would probably be lmao, feel free to rb with your bending headcanons for your twos

Axel: probably fire bender, could've been an air bender once when he was a mew but the manipulation of air combined with his pain and anger turned to heat became fire and he lost his airbending entirely for flames though he still uses air bending movements and techniques as that's what he learnt making his fire bending unique. Honestly could've been a candidate for the next avatar before his state was altered allowing him to pass on the genetics for different bending cause lmao his offspring probably shouldn't have different bending abilities but this is for me

Proto: non bender I think incredibly skilled with bladed weapons tho to make up for lack of elemental ability and pretty good at making up for his lack of bending, get bucket of water thrown at u idiot firebender ect. Probably pretty good at sensing seeing and contacting spirits

Scribe: Earth bender I can see him specialising in crystal formations and growth much like how the Unown cause all those funky crystal structures in their respective movie, kind of stunted power wise due to trauma has to only use one type of mineral at a time can't be messy can't mix dirt types can't hybridise crystals. He'll get over this in time, he's just been traumatised by his upbringing

Dusty: Plant bender, I know that's not canon probably spirit world gift specialises in the care and structural manipulation of plant matter and fibre maybe a weird earth bending subspecies he make vines grow cause brrrr, helps probably restore life to areas that have been devastated by natural fire or war

Darkness: Fire bending specialises in lightning bending using it with great satisfaction and joy to it's power and destruction, I'm pretty sure lightning is by mixing water bending moves so likely accidentally taught how to do it by May

May: Water bender however likely very traumatised so can't/won't use her bending it's locked in a sense. Can blood bend in a other worldly state under the full moon if necessary, possibly related to her trauma not sure. Will sit in water and gently holding water in her palms it brings comfort

Matt: Air bender, adapted to using the rest of his body to control summon and move air as no arms using his legs and such to move and channel air into attacks and just generally, could probably create air flows from his limbs once in more control like that water bender in LOK, more flowy movements again taught by May

Imp: Water bending gentle and flowing especially good at water healing and probably spends so much time in the water you wouldn't believe surrounding herself in it for travelling ect a constant secure pressure security blanket, can probably pull some Lapis Lazuli shit summoning water to completely surround and enlarge her form into a giant watery mecha looming over enemy ships like a horrific water deity "you should have left when I showed mercy." before rushing them capsizing them the water wrapping around and cradling dragging them down to a watery grave

MIA: Ice bending, freezes all water she works with due to her steely way and tense manner of bending it tenses and solidifies the water molecules into a frozen state sending deadly icicles and walls of ice to harm enemies. As she deals with her traumas of being forced to rely purely on herself she's able to start making snow rather than cold bitter ice, creating snow flakes that float down melting, flowing the water back up to refreeze it and repeat in therapeutic repeation

AI: Mud/Earth bending, learns the water bending techniques first but could never command water but finding wet mud would move mastering a flowy version of Earth bending first much like how Korra manipulates metal like water, would find the proper earth bending techniques later to achieve more advanced bending but her water bending training will always have an impact on her bending

#Avatar the last airbender au rambles #Can mewtwo just use all elements? Yea but where's the fun in that #Mewtwo the last avatar au #? Maybe? Cause with Axel getting fucked up the avatar state spirit was probably just like ah fuck my loops #Idk silly funny #Tw blood bending #Figured it deserved a warning #Silly mewtwo au go brrrr #My ocs #Mewtwo ocs #Love to hear your thoughts either if you agree or what your mewtwo would specialise in bending #No Rigger cause not canon Proto however squeezes his way into canon

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slowlydifferentbluebird · 8 months

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Irene and Taeyeon fight, resulting in groups to form.

Irene and IU

And

Taeyeon, Seulgi, Joy and Solar

Both want you to support their side, whichever group you DONT support will divorce you.

Which group do you choose🤭?

Ofc you could choose one and try to win the other back but do you really want to risk that when they are mad at each other🙃. You could end up losing all of them🫢 or even worse the group that divorces you decides to take revenge and makes you jealous which you obviously can’t let your remaining wives know😫.

And do I even need to mention how creative those girls can get with ways to take revenge and make you jealous😈.

Enjoy🥰🥰🥰🤭.

You're so fucking evil for this, bestie👿 like, you should be my friend, not ruin my mind😭

Ok, so, let me explain something real quick to my readers: the six gorgeous ladies in the ask are my wives(it's the Truth, go talk to the Wall), so this is a very specific ask, made just to make me suffer🫠

~~~

Now, what would I do in a situation like this? Obviously I can't be neutral because that would be only worst, I HAVE to support a side. At the moment I don't know the matter of the discussion, but I guess both groups have a point.

I'll take the part of the group of four, simply because they are the most. In this moment my marriage with 4 of 6 wives is safe.

And the other two? Well, obviously Joy and Seulgi are besties of Irene, Solar is friend with Irene too, and Taeyeon is a senior SM artist and she's still in good terms with Irene. So, with time, we should be able to calm her down and make her take a step back.

IU would be the hardest one to win back. At this point tho, I have back with me Irene, who was on her side, so maybe she would be able to help me to win her back.

It's a risky strategy, but, hey, it's an extreme situation. Maybe It will take some time, but if it works, I can wait the time needed.

And about the jealousy part, well, it's a game we can play in two(or three lmao), so I don't think it would be a smart idea for them to do something silly, even because they would be in the wrong then.

Now, that was tough, you didn't have to go so hard on me, bestie. But, at least now I know that I master the art of war, I'm the direct heir of Sun Tzu lmaooo

Lots of love 💙

Zazá

#ask me anything #kpop #kpop girls

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binders-and-beanies · 19 days

Text

Mental health updates under the cut I guess (tldr I’m still not ok but am taking steps to keep myself safe or whatever)

Told my supervisor I’m in crisis and he was super understanding n supportive n whatnot. We both are trans and have mental health issues and work in an lgbt center so one would hope it’s safe to be honest abt that kind of thing but it was a relief bc it also opened up a conversation abt scheduling moving forward n me having like 2 or 3 days off a week as opposed to the current 1 or 0. Esp since higher ups want me to work less anyways im like that’s totally fine bc i have a million things to do outside of work all the time.

Other thing I did was cancel a workshop I was gonna lead next week and it was a really hard decision. I would have been proud afterwards and I’m worried abt having regrets but I’ve done the same workshop before so it’s off the bucket list or whatev. Person in charge of that was also super supportive for similar reasons as above. It doesn’t solve the problem of there always being too many things stressing me out, and I don’t wanna set a precedent that I can just not do my responsibilities, but it eases a big part of the stress this month specifically.

Ppl in my life are saying they’re proud of me for setting that boundary and it’s weird to be praised for bailing on smth when I’m also feeling big guilty abt it but I gotta remind myself that being flakey is absolutely normalized in society and if ur average person can do so on the regular then I’m allowed to take One step back once it’s gotten to the point where my safety is questionable. I’d like to get to a point where things don’t get that serious in the first place but I’ve also never rly appreciated feeling blamed for being in this kind of position when the kind of things I’m busy with are mostly 1) things that are required for survival and 2) things that make it feel worth surviving. As if this is smth i do to myself bc i just <3 capitalism or smth

Im stressin tho bc as mentioned earlier my job is at risk for unrelated reasons which also means a lot of other things are at risk. This is happening at the same time I’ve just lost my insurance and have my biggest ever college bill to pay. And now I don’t know where I’ll be living or what that will mean for my finances either. It would also mean it takes even longer to qualify for any kind of credit, and therefore an apartment.

Even if nothing happens and I just keep working here for another year as planned it’s like can I not get JUMPSCARED w my livelihood being threatened like there’s literally always at least one Huge actual life or death problem as well as many other less catastrophic but extremely stressful things to deal w. I’m tired of living like that w no relief and I hate that the best case scenario is this fear ends up being for nothing. I hate that I’m thinking abt what I’ll do in x y or z scenario for this summer and my masters if this falls through, instead of enjoying the relief of one less thing on my plate.

I hate that this is how I’m doing the day after my birthday. I had a fun birthday weekend and am grateful for the people I spent it with and the places I went but it didn’t feel like genuine celebration it felt forced, like I was doing it because I Have to have a good birthday. Bc if one of the most important days of the year isn’t joyful then where’s the hope of any other days getting better. I did enjoy it I just couldn’t Feel the enjoyment bc I’m so stressed and I had major breakdowns before and after my bday. It sets a bad tone regarding aging and I want to celebrate progress but it’s hard when the future is more terrifying every year.

I feel like even if all my problems were magically solved, my ability to feel joy is permanently altered and it’s hard to imagine feeling anything more positive than just like, relief and rest. Idk I say all that to say I’m proud of myself for taking steps to make life more livable just like I’ve always done but it also feels kinda hopeless like nothing I do matters if it’s gonna be constant stress regardless

#mine #txt #personal

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seetangus · 3 months

Note

Seetang!

Things have been going okay. Just a little busy at work and been playing video games and reading at home when I get free time. But to answer your other question, I do like Bach. I’ve been getting into classical music lately. And honestly, Hilary Hahn does wonderful violin pieces of it. I do prefer her Sibelius over Bach or Beethoven concertos. There’s something so soothing about the violin pieces like how the orchestra and violin compliment each other so well. ((I don’t know if that made sense or not)). Do you prefer Bach over other composers?

How’s it going with you? I hope it’s going well. It’s so nice being able to chat with you even if it’s sometimes few and far between. But I really like talking to you!

Valentine’s Day is coming up on the fourteenth of this month. So, Happy Early Valentine’s Day! 🍫💐❤️ ((digital flowers, and chocolate for you as a gift)) Are there any traditions or anything special you guys do for Valentine’s Day? We just do classic assorted chocolate and flowers, but other gifts happen for couples like jewelry and such. And people typically go out for a nice dinner that day too.

- 🌹

Hello! Thank you so much for the valentine's day things, ima give you stuff too: 🍫💐💝

It's nice to hear everything is going allright :)

And getting into classical music is one of the most awesome things one can do, I hope you find joy in it! I've practically grown up with it and I really, really like it. I also get that you like Hilary Hahns playing, although it's not what I usually listen to. I'm a big fan of the old maestros such as Oistrakh or Menuhin. And your question really is difficult! Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven... they are all geniuses and masters of their art. But Bach - he is for me the grandmaster of all music, so to speak. xD

It's not even his concertos, be it with soloists or grand orchestra, that impress me the most, but rather his sacral music. He composed many oratories for special occasions like christmas, easter, ascension and so on, but they are not as internationally famous as his concertos since they all have German texts. Again, I prefer the older recordings over newer ones haha

Writing paragraphs really happens faster than you'd expect when talking about music lol

And how has it been going with me? Well, now I need to think lmao - it has been much more stressful than a few weeks ago, but it's still fun :)

And now back to Valentine's Day. Here in Germany it is being celebrated by a number of people, but not the majority as there is no tradition behind it. Everything we do here is more or less directly imported from the US, so our gifts etc look very similar.

There is actually a video of a tv-interview with a guy being questioned about Valentine's day that's really famous here in Germany, and I found a version with English subtitles 😭 this video is so. Hilarious. (Please don't think all Germans are like that tho-)

Here it is

Anyway, this was a very long message,

I hope you are allright!

- Seetang

#🌹 anon

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bleachellie · 2 years

Text

ok, thoughts on the new doctor who episode now i’ve had time 2 let it sink in a bit!! 🥳

first of all, that was fucking brilliant!! definitely the most i’ve enjoyed a new doctor who episode in a while, and i’m so glad jodie got to have a good send off, apart from some wonky writing i’ve rly enjoyed her portrayal of the doctor, and it’s what she deserves 🥹

but it’s hard to say that without also saying that it’s frustrating in a way, cos it goes to show that chris chibnall rly Can write good doctor who.. so it’s a shame i haven’t enjoyed all the rest of his era that much, like it could have been So good if it was all on that level!! like, i haven’t Hated this era, but it’s just disappointing how it didn’t all fully live up to it’s potential 😔

but onto the good stuff: first off, dan’s departure was done v well, it felt v realistic for him to leave after that, and i suppose it was never gonna be the biggest thing in the world cos he hadn’t been a companion for long 😅

altho one more negative, again, dan’s departure after just a few episodes did So much more for me than when ryan and graham left, and they’d been companions for 2 whole series?? like their departure was just.. so flat to me, and even after 2 series i still didn’t feel emotionally connected to them all that much 😬 but yeah, ugh, that’s not rly got much 2 do w/ this episode 😭

ace and tegan’s return was handled rly well, and it was great to see them back!! i was a bit worried like, with So many characters in this episode that it’d feel too bloated and messy (like some of the other episodes this era w/ too many characters in 😅) but no, it worked well, and was all i could ask for!!

storywise, it was Incredibly fun, which is what i want most from doctor who, and also well paced imo, much better than some of the frenetic flux episodes, and the trainwreck of “legend of the sea devils” 😭

the master was fantastic, as he has been in all his episodes, sacha dhawan was Genius casting and i hope we get to see his master again someday

peter davison, colin baker and sylvester mccoy returned was leaked months ago, so i wasn’t surprised by their return, but it was still a joy to see them back, especially w/ 5’s interaction with tegan, and 7’s with ace 🥺

david bradley returning as the 1st doctor was a surprise tho, and so was fucking PAUL MCGANN??! 🤯 i will Never not want more of 8 🥹

the only one minor criticism i do have is the doctor’s death wasn’t.. anything especially special?? 😅 i’m not even fully sure what happened, the master had a remote control that.. turned the laser to blast at her i guess?? but still, not that much of a biggie 🤔

yaz’s final scene with the doctor rly hit the mark too 🥺 i wasn’t sure exactly how they were gonna get her to leave satisfactorily?? but nope, that did it!! and it’s always open for her to return one day, which is nice 😌

it was also nice seeing graham again, even if i didn’t enjoy his departure before that much!! and his scene w/ ace and the psychic paper in the volcano was gr8, they had a surprisingly good dynamic in that little scene 😭

i wonder where ryan was tho?? i thought he was rumoured to be in it too, but nope, not in it at all?? 😧 i wonder if tosin cole was just unavailable or s/t??

and that support group scene!!!! mel!! jo grant!! ian chesterton!!!!! fantastic they finally managed to get william russell back, considering he’s 97 now 🥹 obviously a little fanservicey cameo fest there, but it’s still always so nice to see classic who companions back again 🤧

so finally.. the regeneration into tennant?! 🤯 i called it about 7 months ago, when it was first rumoured david tennant was returning that it was gonna end with “what?? what?! WHAT??!” 😅 but what’s interesting to note is that after the episode aired, the bbc posted an article saying he’s actually gonna be The 14th doctor, and ncuti gatwa will be the 15th?? 😧 so that’s a surprising development, i’d assumed ncuti was gonna be the 14th, and david was just gonna be like, an unnumbered doctor, just around for the specials?? but then it looks like ncuti is gonna be in the specials too so..?? lots to think abt there 😳 just a shame they’re so fucking long away, i was hoping there’d still be a christmas/new year special, and the other 2 specials would then be spaced out over 2023 😔

and.. that’s abt all i think, or at least all i can think of rn?? might add more if i think of anything else, but all in all, rly enjoyable and a gr8 final episode for 13, which i’m rly happy abt!! 🥰

#dw.txt

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