#I saw you liked the tags I left on that association post | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

normspellsman · 1 year

Text

A Kiss, Perhaps

pairing: spider socorro x fem!human!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 4.4k+ (😳)

warning(s): just spider + reader being cute idiots in love, spider actually being a lovesick puppy that happily follows you wherever you go, subtle brains x brawn dynamic, the tiniest hint of suggestive content (?), first kiss trope, slightest mention of making out, & getting caught (oop-)

taglist: @aonungsmate @universal-s1ut @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @optimisticblazetrash @arminsgfloll @amortencjja @dearstell @liyahsocorro @chshshhshshshshshshs @goodiesinthecloset21 @sweetirilly @blushhpeachh @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic

word bank: ikran — winged creatures used for flying + hunting

note: set before the events of atwow! i keep overdoing myself with these 4k+ fics 😭 but anything for you guys <3 there’s nearly not enough spider fics on this app. give my boy some love T-T! also, tumblr’s being weird & not letting me tag some people on the posts so i’ll try to tag those with a line through their user in the comments.

You loved spending time outside in the forests of Pandora, soaking in everything you saw. You spent more time out of the lab than in it most days.

Spider even joined you at times, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. You probably knew the forest better than the boy, even with his frequent associations with the Sully children. You practically never left the beautiful scenery and spent too many hours exploring every little thing you could. So, he found it best to follow your lead whenever he tagged along on your journeys.

Norm liked to say that you were a lot like Grace Augustine in some ways. Always wanting to analyze and study every single plant you came into contact with. Always too caught up in admiring the beauty and wonder that Pandora provided. Of course you never met the woman but you saw plenty of her video recordings with Kiri and on your alone time. You could say that the two of you had similarities but none that were too significant.

You knew almost every inch of forestry on the moon-planet. Almost.

There was this one place that Spider had stumbled upon many years ago after running around with Lo’ak. It was his little hideout spot whenever he needed time to himself or wanted a break from things. He didn’t think about sharing it with anyone else until you mentioned how bored you were one night, complaining about how you practically seen every inch of the forest and that there was nothing else to see. You loved everything you saw on Pandora but missed the first time admiration one held whenever they saw something they had never seen before.

Spider wasn’t exactly sure if you had already scoped out his little getaway spot but nonetheless, he still wanted to share it with you.

“I don’t think you’ve been to this place though,” Spider speaks up one day, pulling your attention away from whatever you were studying underneath the microscope.

The teen also often offered his company to you whenever you were in the lab doing whatever scientists did. He liked spending time with you, even if you were too caught up in doing sciencey stuff that he had absolutely no clue about.

“What do you mean?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

A shit eating grin stretched itself onto Spider’s lips. Good, he thought, she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

“You said that you’ve seen every inch of the forest,” he replied, twirling a pipette in between his calloused fingers, “but, I’m sure you haven’t seen my hideout.”.

Curiosity sparkled in your eyes, back straightening in attention.

“What does it look like?” You asked, genuinely excited about the secret place Spider had kept from you for whoever knows how long.

Spider had you right where he wanted you. Like a prey in his web. There was no way that he was going to give you any details of what it looked like. Where’s the fun in that? He wanted to see the pure, genuine look of amazement on your face when you finally saw the place he was talking about.

“Nuh uh,” Spider tsked, poking your cheek with the pipette, “I am not falling for that. You’ll just have to wait and see tomorrow,” he finished, face inching closer to yours.

Your eyes rolled in annoyance, not pleased with Spider's answer. You at least wanted to know where the spot was or what some of its features looked like, it would help that anxious-excitement feeling that always crawled its way into your stomach whenever you discovered something new.

“Wherever you’re taking me better not be somewhere where I have to climb,” you retorted, slightly pushing back his head with your hand, him snorting in response.

“It’s not that bad. Besides,” he replies, “I can always carry you up there.”.

Spider was ridiculously strong for a human boy his age. The first time you realized it, your stomach twisted in knots. The two of you were play fighting in your early teens when the male managed to pin you down with just one arm, the other slithering in between your bodies as he tickled your stomach. It was in that brief moment that you realized how different and quickly Spider was changing, thanks to puberty.

Just the thought of Spider carrying you up to wherever he had in mind without even breaking a sweat made butterflies erupt in your stomach. You began to wonder how his toned arms would feel around your body or how his tense back would feel against your front as it flexed due to his climbing. (Your mouth began to water a little at the thought. Oh how you wished he would just pull you into his embrace and hold you so you could feel the flexing of his muscles as he did so.)

You quickly scoffed the thought away, shaking your head at the dirty blondes' response. He very obviously took pride in his strength and the fact that he could most definitely carry you anywhere without much difficulty.

“Sure you could, Spider,” you added, your eyes squinting a little at the boy in front of you, unplugging and turning off the microscope you were using.

Spider smirked at your response, tossing the pipette to the side as he saw that you were getting ready to clean up, signaling that you were done for the day and we’re going to head off to bed.

“Night, beautiful,” Spider whispered, ruffling your hair a bit before he turned and left the lab you were occupying.

“G’night,” you replied, pink dusting your cheeks in reaction to the nickname he gave you early on into your friendship.

He always called you that. Max had explained to him what the word meant when he overheard Jake call Neytiri that when he was only a child, wondering what it meant. Max told him that he should only ever mean it whenever he called someone it. So he did. You were the only one he called beautiful and probably would be the only one he ever called that and truly meant it.

“Tomorrow, three hours before eclipse,” Spider quickly added, heading peaking through the door of the lab, a smile on his face as he voiced the time he planned on taking you out.

You only hummed out in acknowledgment, shooing him away as you focused on your task of cleaning up your area of the lab.

You really couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

———

“Hurry up, you’re going to make us late,” Spider whined out, sprawled out on your freshly made bed, a ball of yarn in his hands as he tossed it up and down towards the ceiling.

You rolled your eyes at the boy, annoyed at his words. It wasn’t like there was someone else waiting for you at the spot he wanted to take you to.

“We are fine, Spider,” you scoffed out, finishing tying up your shoelaces together besides the teens head as your body was in a seated position. Your hand briefly reached out towards Spider’s knotted locs, messing with them a little before he turned his head to teasingly nip at you, teeth not making contact with your skin. You squealed in response, hurriedly pulling back your hand in order to avoid the boy's sharp teeth.

Spider barked out a laugh at your response, tossing the ball of yarn to the side, softly landing on the floor with a dull thud. Another thing he loved, messing with you. He took great joy in doing it and seeing your reaction.

“Yeah well, the faster you finish getting ready, the faster we’ll be at my spot,” he retorted, pushing himself up to a sitting position, a bored look on his face as he looked at you.

Spider had only been in your room for around fifteen minutes, barging in when you just finished braiding your hair yelling about how long you were taking and how by the time you were done, it’d be sunrise already. He was all ready to go and had been waiting for you for almost thirty minutes before coming into your room unannounced. He usually did, which caused you to throw whatever was closest to you at him, demanding him to get out. You got used to it over the years but still, you needed privacy and sometimes, you felt like you rarely had that around Spider due to his spontaneous barging into your room. You gained the ability to change out of and into your clothes incredibly fast, almost always narrowly missing flashing Spider.

“Okay, okay, I’m all ready,” you responded, hands going up in surrender as you stood up from your spot on the bed, dusting off the back of your thighs and the front of your shorts.

Spider groaned out in relief, hopping off the bed and grabbing your packed bag that was placed by the doorframe, throwing it over his shoulder before grabbing your hand and rushing you out in excitement.

“You’re gonna love it, I swear!”.

———

The both of you had arrived and climbed up to the place Spider had wanted to take you to in an hour and a half. The sun was just at eclipse when you arrived. Spider didn’t hesitate to crouch down a little so you could jump onto his back, legs and arms tightly around his neck and waist before he began the ascent up.

“We’re here,” Spider whispered, slightly out of breath from the exercise. He tapped your thigh twice, signaling that it was safe for you to let go.

The first thing you saw were vines. Lots of them. It covered almost every inch of solid rock, clinging across the surface until your eyes landed on a small opening, the vines dangling over it as the twine and its leaves cloaked the opening. No wonder you never knew of this place. Regardless of it being too high up for you alone to climb, it was very well hidden by the green vines.

It seemed like it was a cave, from what you could see. Peeking past some of the small openings in between the vines, you couldn’t see much light through the gaps. It seemed to be pretty dark and the only light that was getting through was the sunlight that managed to squeeze between the vines.

“You excited?” Spider asked, anxiety settling itself in his stomach. He wanted you to like his secret spot. It was special to him. He didn’t even tell Lo’ak about it and he tells the Na’vi boy practically everything.

“Very,” you replied back, eyes still glued on the intricate weaving of the vines. You tried to imagine what was behind the plant's structure, excitement setting in.

You liked finding new things but this felt different. More personal. Spider told his loved ones almost everything, so you were genuinely surprised when he brought up the fact that he had a secret hideout. And knowing that you were probably the only other person to see and know about this place made it even more special and personal.

“C’mon,” Spider whispered, taking your hand in his as he gently pulled you inside, pushing the vines to the side to make room for the both of you to get through.

It was dark at first, the numerous vines making a dull thud sound as they fell back into place once Spider let them go. But then, small blue dots of light appeared, scattered across the walls and ceiling of the cave, lighting up the space in its dim light. The longer you two walked, the more brighter it seemed to get. The biolomenscient dots got dimmer and dimmer the further you and Spider went, the warm glow of the sunset replacing it.

Another opening made its way into your line of sight, giving you the perfect view of the eclipse and more.

“Holy shit,” you whispered out, hand still grasping Spiders.

The sight before you was absolutely breathtaking. Ikran flew across the setting sun, shrieking in delight as they dipped and dived. The floating mountains were scattered across the sky, thick and large vines connecting them to each other so they didn't drift too far from another. The vibrant colors the setting sun emitted settled across the horizon and danced across the tops of the trees beneath the cliff you and Spider were currently standing on.

Spider smiled at your response, warmth spreading across his body as he came to the conclusion that you were enjoying the sight before you. He felt nervous before, not wanting you to not like where he was taking you. But now, he felt so happy. Happy that you were awestruck and couldn’t tear your eyes off of everything in front of you.

“Like it?” He asked, hand squeezing yours to catch your attention.

“Like it?” You replied, eyes still darting across the beautiful scenery in front of you, “I love it! How come you didn’t take me here earlier?” You pouted at the end.

The boy only chuckled in response. To be honest, he considered this place to be his. Like a little secret. He wasn’t planning on sharing it with anyone. But the more he thought about it and visited the small cave slash cliff hideout, the more he wondered what it’d be like to share this place with you. He was over the moon when you agreed to tag along last night. This was no longer going to be just his spot but the both of yours.

Spider slightly tugged on your hand, guiding you to follow his actions in sitting down, legs dangling over the cliffs edge.

“It’s so beautiful,” you commented, settling yourself next to Spider, hands still intertwined.

The human boy hummed in response, eyes never leaving the side of your face. The setting suns colorful rays reflected off the glass of your mask, highlighting your bright eyes as you continued to gawk at the gorgeous sight in front of you.

To Spider, your beauty could never compare to what was in front of him. He had seen this kind of sunset millions of times before but he always found himself thinking of you whenever he gazed at the eclipse and the colorful horizon. You were truly one of a kind. He always felt special whenever you graced him with your presence. His eyes never left your face whenever the two of you hung out, oftentimes running into things on accident which made me even more flustered once your laugh reached his ears. If he were in a Na’vi body, his tail would be swaying furiously back and forth like a dog excited to see their owner whenever his eyes settled on your figure. You always had a special place in his heart. Which makes this moment even more special.

“Hmm, just like you, beautiful,” he whispered back, nudging your shoulder with his.

A wide toothed smile made its way across your lips, a giggle escaping them as you shook your head at the boy. “Cheesy,” you replied, eyes finally tearing away from the sunset and settling on Spider.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you realized how close the two of you were. Your shoulders were touching and your clasped hands were in Spider's lap, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand. If it weren’t for the masks you had to wear, you most likely would be able to feel each other's breath. Just the thought gave you slight goosebumps.

“Sappy,” Spider agreed, laughing in response to your previous statement. He tended to be overly romantic whenever around you. Albeit he never outwardly voiced his thoughts, he still thought them. You only got a glimpse or two of that side of him, it only being during whenever the two of you were joking around or he was trying to bring your spirits up on a particularly hard day. It never failed to make you feel better or laugh in response.

Your eyes were stuck on Spider's face, glancing from his eyes, to his nose down to his lips, and then back up to his eyes. He was probably the prettiest human boy you’d ever seen, and the only one you’d seen.

“Want to know how I stumbled across this place?” He asked, cheeks reddening at your intense stare.

“Please,” you responded, shifting a bit to face more towards the boy, hands still tightly interlocked.

Spider brightly smiled before starting, glad to be finally sharing this, his place with you.

———

You had stayed out way past curfew, too caught up in the beauty of Pandora to realize just how late you and Spider stayed out.

He had you put yourself on his back again on the way down, your hands returning to grip his shoulders as your legs tightly wrapped around his waist. You found yourself thinking about his muscles and his strength again, making yourself blush at every thought. The fact that you were so tightly pressed up against him and could feel his back muscles twitch and flex as he climbed down didn’t help, at all.

But he too was blushing. There have only been a handful of times where the both of you were in a position like this, so close together. Most of them were when you were children and still needed the comfort of someone else to sleep, Norm often finding the two of you entangled together as you softly snored away in your deep slumber. The other time being when you had a tickle fight and he pinned both of your hands above your head and tortured you with his swift fingers against the sensitive skin of your stomach. Spider almost kissed you that day, if it weren’t for Max’s interruption, telling Spider that Lo’ak was there for him. And the other time being now. It had been so long since he had you this close. Of course you two hugged and had sleepovers whenever you were bored, but even then, you never had your body that close to his and vice versa. Spider could feel the beat of your rapid heart against his back, smirking at how fast it was pumping.

It was nice to have you this close to his body. Especially in this circumstance. He felt like he was protecting you, in a way at least. Spider knew that you didn’t have the type of training he did regarding exploring the expanse of Pandora’s forests. You mostly explored on your own and kept to the forest floor whereas Spider leapt from tree to tree with Lo’ak and climbed whatever he could. And regarding this fact, he knew that you wouldn’t be able to pull yourself up to climb all the way to where he wanted to take you as well as back down. So this was the least he could do. Have you cling to his back as he descended back down to the mossy ground.

The minute your feet touched the floor, you took off sprinting, shouting at Spider to race you back to the lab. Poor boy barely had any time to process it, standing there in shock for a few seconds before quickly following after you, catching up to your figure within minutes.

The boy beat you to the lab even with your head start.

“No fair!” You whined out, huffing and puffing from your sprinting. Damn, you thought to yourself, and to think Spider does this everyday.

“Hmm, sucks to suck I guess,” Spider teased, patting your head as you stood there with your hands on your knees trying to catch your breath. Your mask began to fog up from your ragged breathing.

You playfully slapped Spider’s hand away as you both walked up the stairs to the lab, the boy holding the door open for you as you walked through.

Once the door shut, a hissing sound reached your ears, signaling that the filter was forcing out the Pandora air and replacing it with the air you and the other humans needed to breathe. When the small light above the second door turned green, you quickly discarded your mask and pushed through the secondary door.

“That was so much fun!” You exclaimed, wide smile on your lips as you turned back towards Spider, watching him place both of your masks back onto the small rack they usually reside on.

Warmth spread throughout Spider’s chest at your exclamation, proud that he was able to make you this happy from simply sharing his hideout with you. “I’m glad you had fun,” he replied, a gummy smile spreading onto his lips.

“Thank you so much for taking me! I really enjoyed tonight,” you continued, same smile still plastered on your face.

You felt grateful that Spider wanted to share a place he had found and kept to himself for a while with you. It made you feel special. Really special. You wanted to do something for him that showed your gratefulness. But your mind kept drawing blanks the more you thought about it. It had to be a grand gesture that showed him just how much you appreciated tonight as well as him in general.

Silence settled itself between the two of you, it resting comfortably in the air. Seconds had passed from the last time you spoke, eyes darting around Spider’s painted striped skin, the paint fading from the days excursions. As your eyes settled back onto his face, you realized that he was staring at your lips.

A lightbulb went off in your head. Yes, a kiss would work.

“I am very grateful that you decided to share your hideout with me. I feel honored,” you began, taking a step closer to the boy in front of you, “Is there anything I could do to show my appreciation?”.

Spider gulped at your question, one thing coming to mind. But, the boy only shook his head and shrugged. “It’s alright. I’m just happy to have spent tonight with you,” he replied.

Sappy motherfucker, you laughed to yourself, feeling yourself melt at how sweet Spider was being. You knew that he’d never force you to do anything that you didn’t want to do. Another thing that you loved about him. (Right after his face and muscles, of course.)

You hummed in response, inching closer as you did so. You could practically hear how fast Spider’s heart was beating against his chest, making you slightly smile at how you might be the cause of it.

“I think I have something in mind,” you trailed, straining your neck a bit to look up at the boy as you finally stood chest to chest. A few strands of Spider’s locs fell in front of his face and dangled besides yours, hand going out to tuck it behind one of his ears. The boys knees almost gave out at the movement, stomach twisting in knots and skin beginning to tingle from your gentle graze.

“And w-what could that b-be?” He stuttered, dark blush covering his cheeks. He felt his heart beat even faster as the seconds ticked by, if that was possible.

You smiled up at Spider, right hand coming to gently take his left one. “A kiss, perhaps?” You asked, not expecting him to agree right away.

“You…you w-want to…to k-kiss me?” He shakingly asked, the hand in yours intertwining his fingers between yours. He couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. That you suggested that you both kiss. He’s dreamt of kissing you ever since he saw the couple down his hall kiss when he was younger, Max yet again had to explain the action to him. Ever since he knew that he liked you. Since he knew that you’d be the only one for him as long as he breathed.

You nodded at his question, eyes falling from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes. You also dreamt of kissing the boy. You wanted to ever since you saw an Earth movie from the twenty-first century where the two protagonists were lovers. You wanted to experience everything that the two lovers in the movies experienced with Spider. It was something you often caught yourself daydreaming about when you had nothing else better to do.

At your confirmation, Spider gently and delicately cupped your face in his warm and bigger hands, bringing you closer to his lips. There was a sliver of space between your lips and his, the teen boy waiting for something. Spider’s eyes searched yours for hesitancy and when he saw none and received another nod of your head, he pressed his plump lips against yours.

Your left hand went up to his waist to steady yourself, knees nearly giving out on the spot as your brain realized that this was actually happening.

Warmth was the only thing you felt from the kiss as well as adoration and care. You thought the whole fireworks thing was a bit silly whenever a character in a movie talked about it. But this, this was so much better than fireworks. You could feel how much Spider loved and cared for you through a single kiss. Could feel how nervous you made him through his shaky hands and rapid heartbeat. It was much better than fireworks. You felt loved and cared for through your shared kiss. You only hoped that Spider could feel the same things you did from the kiss as well.

The two of you stood there for who knows how long, kissing and pecking each others lips. You only broke away from the kiss two times to inhale more oxygen before you passed out. Spider meanwhile kissed all over your face as you did so, placing gentle kisses against your cheeks, nose, forehead, and chin before slotting his lips against yours again once you filled your lungs with sweet oxygen.

A loud cough erupted from behind you, halting the both of you in your kiss. Fear and anxiety spikes through your system, eyes widening as you slowly turned around to see who caught you and Spider kissing face.

“I don’t want to know,” Max started, arms crossed against his chest as a sleepy expression painted his face, “Just, get to bed. Separately. And if anyone asks, I saw nothing, okay?”.

You swear you never ran to your room so fast in your life, giggling out into the quiet corridors of the lab with Spider trailing behind you. Yeah, sorry Max, but there was no way that either of you were going to bed in your respective rooms tonight. There was too much to talk about and catch up on.

#atwow imagines #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar: the way of water #atwow #atwow x reader #atwow x you #avatar x reader #spider socorro x reader #spider socorro #spider socorro x y/n #spider socorro x you #spider socorro imagine #spider socorro imagines #miles socorro #spider socorro x human reader

1K notes · View notes

quin-ns-moved · 2 years

Text

Safe House

Word count: 2.3K

Summary: lemon and tangerine break into your safe house, not expecting you to be there. it’s lucky that you are, especially for tangerine

Tags: mentions of blood/violence, flirting/teasing/humor, taking care of tangerine, frenemies to lovers, kinda fluffy, love confessions, kissing, implied smut

A/N: my second tangerine fic <3 this one is very different than my other one but I couldn’t let the idea of patching up tangerine after a job go

Cross-posted to ao3

Edit: check out my new blog with more writing @quin-ns

The last thing you expected was your door crashing open in the middle of the night. Thankfully, it was two familiar faces who came into view despite the darkness.

Lemon and Tangerine. Two associates, well, friends of yours. Yeah, you could call them friends at this point. Anyway, they’d just broken into your house.

“You can’t just burst in and scare me like that!” you scolded the two, clutching your blanket tighter as a gust of cold wind sailed through the room. Tangerine slammed the door shut and locked it, while Lemon hobbled over to the couch where you were seated. You had been in your living room watching a movie, unable to sleep.

Tangerine flicked the main light switch and the bulbs attached to your ceiling fan flickered to life. You took in the sight of both of them, pausing your movie.

Their clothes were a bit tattered and covered in blood that probably wasn’t theirs. Although most of the blood stains weren’t theirs, you could tell both were injured. From the way Lemon fell onto the couch next to you, it seemed like his leg must’ve been messed up and he was clutching his right hand in his left. You glanced at Tangerine and saw a cut on his head, but more concerning there was blood soaking through his sleeve and dripping from his arm.

“What the hell happened to you guys?” you asked aloud, addressing neither one of them in particular.

“Work,” Lemon grunted out first. “Sorry, we didn’t think you’d be here.”

“You didn’t think I’d be in my house?” you asked, brows furrowed a little.

“Your safe house, and yes. You’re never here,” Tangerine chimed in. He had made his way over to the fridge—your living room and kitchen were one in the same—and began to dig through the freezer part. You always kept it well stocked.

“Well I just worked a job and it was easier to come here,” you explained. Although you weren’t really the one who needed to justify their presence.

“We needed a place to lay low,” Lemon revealed. “Thought you’d be gone and wouldn’t mind.”

“You mean you didn’t think I’d notice if you guys were here,” you retorted. They’d tried it before and maybe they thought they were inconspicuous, but given the line of work the three of you shared you noticed the little details.

Tangerine found what he was looking for, which was a frozen bag of peas. You always kept some on hand (even though you hated the taste of peas) because they made a good ice pack. He tossed them to Lemon, who caught them in his non-bruised hand. He placed them over the swelling and his counterpart turned around to face you.

“Since you are here, could we trouble you for some first aid, luv?” Tangerine asked quite politely. Usually you’d give each other a hard time—that was your dynamic, it was harmless—but he needed help and you felt sympathy as you watched him clutch his bleeding arm.

“Yeah, lemme grab my first aid kit.” You stood from the couch, leaving the comfort of your blanket behind. You were still in your pajamas, just a big t-shirt and some shorts. Not a lot of coverage and you were starting to get cold. “Try not to leave blood stains on my floor!” you called once you were down the hall, searching the closest. You couldn’t help yourself.

Tangerine didn’t reply to you, probably muttering something under his breath instead. It didn’t matter, he knew you weren’t serious.

You found the first aid kit and returned. “What’s wrong with who?” you questioned. You were a nurse before you got into your current line of work. Some of what you learned still came in handy every once in a while.

“My hand is all jacked up and I think I twisted my ankle,” Lemon answered first.

“Not much I can do for that other than give you some ice, meds, and tell you to get some rest. If something is broken I can’t do anything here, but I saw you walk in here so for the ankle you should be good in a few days. As for the hand, can you move it?” Lemon tried and succeeded at wiggling his fingers. “Okay good, that’s not broken either. Probably just some bruising but I’ll keep an eye on it.”

“You got two bedrooms in this place, right?” Lemon recalled, starting to pull himself to stand. You handed him a bottle of painkillers which he accepted.

“Last door down the hall on your left,” you directed him as he began to hobble off towards your guest room. You were a little surprised at how fast he made it but you could tell he was mentally and physically exhausted.

Usually, Lemon was talkative and the two of you would chat about anything and everything. Tonight was obviously different, but you were sure you’d catch up with him later.

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” were his parting words (and his thanks) before he closed the guest door behind him.

When it was just you and Tangerine, the two of you met each other’s gaze again. You sat down on your coffee table, facing the couch. “So, you need some bandages for your boo-boos?” you asked teasingly and held up the first aid kit.

Tangerine let out a humorless laugh in response as he made his way to the couch. You opened up the kit and set some contents out beside you on the table. He took his place on the couch across from you. “It’s a little more than a boo-boo,” he replied, holding out his arm and rolling up his sleeve.

His arm was facing palm up and without the bloody sleeve in the way, you could actually see the source of the blood. A diagonal, deep cut across his inner forearm.

“Knife wound?” You laughed at your own question because of the obvious answer. “Never mind, of course it is.”

“Was blocking it from slashing up my face,” he explained. You found some antibacterial wipes and began to clean his arm. “Couldn’t risk losing my best asset.”

You rolled your eyes as he smirked at his own joke. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

A few months back you made the mistake of admitting you thought he was attractive. You were fighting beside him and later he had a bruise on the cheek. You’d made a comment about needing to protect his best asset, and Tangerine took it and ran with it. His ego was boosted and while it wasn’t untrue that you thought that, he liked to bring it up as ammunition in your mutual badinage.

“Don’t bet on it,” Tangerine replied. You could feel him staring at you as you cleaned his wound. You glanced up at him briefly and met his eyes.

“I’m gonna have to stitch it,” you told him with a slight frown. His smile faded and he sighed. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

“I think you just want a chance to jab me with needles,” Tangerine commented sarcastically, clearly displeased by the situation. He watched as you got the needle ready.

You chuckled at that. “Well, gotta have some fun for me out of this, right?”

The quip was a lie, you didn’t actually want to see him hurt or in pain. While almost every sentence spoken to one another was sardonic or teasing, you considered him your friend and Tangerine did the same. Neither of you ever spoke about it out loud, though. The second one of you admitted you liked the other; it would be considered a loss at the game the two of you played. Sometimes you’d push him or he’d push you, trying to get the truth to be spoken, but so far it was a draw on both ends.

“And here I thought we were friends,” Tangerine argued, feigning offense. This was one of those previously mentioned moments where one of you would begin to push the boundaries.

You smiled to yourself. You couldn’t help it. “Friends, huh?”

Then he said something you didn’t expect.

“Are we not?” he inquired, like he was truly wondering what you thought.

You let him sit with the question for a moment as you pressed the needle into his skin. Tangerine hissed in pain as you created the first stitch.

Finally, you answered. Looking up to him briefly, meeting those blue eyes of his, you said, “yeah, we are.” You meant it,

His words didn’t feel like a win and yours didn’t feel like a loss. Maybe the game you two played was in your heads. There was no harm in admitting out loud that you considered him a friend. Because, well, you did.

“Right,” he murmured. “Okay, good.”

‘Good’. Interesting.

You continued to work, trying to keep focus. Tangerine stared at you as you closed up the wound. Neither of you spoke and he tried to remain still for you.

When the wound was fully closed and you cut the string, you let out a sign of relief. “And… done!”

Tangerine released the breath he was holding. “Thank fucking god. I hate needles.” He examined his arm before allowing it to fall.

“Really? I didn’t know that.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” he countered.

“Fair point,” you conceded. You glanced at the cut on his forehead. “So how’d you get that?”

He knew what you meant. “Got whacked by a gun. It’s not bad. Certainly not as bad as the knife could’ve been.”

“You’re right.” Your fingers brushed through his disheveled brunette hair, pushing the curls away from his forehead with one hand. You cleaned the dried blood away from the cut with the other. “It won’t scar or anything,” you confirmed. Your free hand trailed down to his cheek and you patted it lightly. “That pretty face of yours is safe.”

Your tone was teasing but your touch was soft when your hand stilled. It lingered for a moment and Tangerine absentmindedly leaned into the touch, relaxing. His eyes remained on you, watching your face while you focused on tending to the cut. When you pulled both of your hands away, the expression on his face changed slightly. Like he was disappointed at the loss of contact.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that,” you commented, looking down at your hands as you tore open the bandaid.

“Notice what?” he asked as you placed the bandaid on his cut forehead.

“You, going all soft for a minute,” you relayed with a faint smirk. ”Admit it.”

Tangerine let out a dramatic sigh of defeat. “Fine. You win.”

He gave in faster than you thought he would’ve. “Wait, really?” You furrowed your brows in skepticism.

“It’s… nice,” he said slowly, building up to the admission. “I mean, when you look after me like that. Helping me out, being all gentle… I don’t know.” Tangerine swallowed. It was the first time in maybe forever you’d seen him look nervous, maybe even embarrassed. Your expression softened. “It feels like you care and I like that.” He wasn’t used to being this open and you certainly weren’t either.

“It feels like that because I do,” you revealed, meeting his eyes. There was a softness in his as he looked at you, but also a hint of anxiety that was replaced by relief as he scanned your face.

You meant what you said just like he had.

You couldn’t stop yourself from cracking a joke to fill the silence. It was practically an instinct. “Admitting we’re friends and that we care… big day, huh?”

Tangerine scoffed out a laugh. “I’m glad Lemon’s not out here, he’d never let this go.”

“Why’s that?”

“He has this idea—stupid idea, really—in his head about us.” He rubbed his hand over the lower half of his face and averted his eyes for a moment.

You weren’t going to let that be so quickly glossed over. “Oh?”

Tangerine gave in and began to explain without protest. “He thinks the reason you and I give each other such a hard time is because we have feelings for each other,” he divulged almost cautiously. He tried to not stare at you as he attempted to gauge your reaction.

“Hmm,” you hummed, catching onto where this was going. And once you were on the same page as him, the tone in the room changed. “Is he right?“

Tangerine simpered, gazing at you longingly. “I like to think so.”

And there it was. He’d made the first move.

It was a long time coming and if you were being wholly and completely honest, you’d been waiting.

“Really?”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t know, you might have to convince me.” You turned on the charm and it was well received.

His eyebrow quirked up, intrigued. “Is that so?” Tangerine’s hand extended towards you, facing palm up. You placed your hand in his, allowing him to pull you forward.

You lifted off the table across from him only for him to guide you into his lap. You let out a small laugh, draping your arms over his shoulders. You came face to face with him, suddenly aware of the positive you were in.

“Hi,” you said coyly.

“Hello, luv,” he replied, a devilish smile appearing on his face.

Before you could even think of something to say, Tangerine's hand was on the back of your neck and pulling you towards him. His lips collided with yours and you happily melted into the kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft and moved perfectly in tandem with yours, yet he was still dominant. You expected he would be—although you’d never admit you wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

The kiss was full of passion, all the pent up emotions and hidden feelings finally coming out. It was hot and heavy and everything you thought it would be.

You parted from him long enough to suggest, “we could go to my bedroom.”

Suddenly, Tangerine stood and took you with him. You gasped as you were lifted into the air. His arms locked under your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You were at eye level with him and the lustful look on his face was one you’d keep in your mind forever.

Tangerine grinned at your suggestion. “I like the sound of that.”

#tangerine x reader #tangerine #bullet train #aaron taylor johnson #lemon #brian tyree henry #bullet train fanfiction #bullet train imagine

2K notes · View notes

eluxcastar · 9 months

Note

As I opened my tumblr, just to check if there is new Arlecchino stuff to swallow... lo and behold, I saw your post with the Arlecchino simp tags. Shot me the moment I stepped into the door right there, hahaha! May I request an Arlecchino x reader, headcanon or anything you're comfortable coming up with. The reader is thousands of years old, who got disowned by the Tsaritsa because they declined their performance in greatness for someone else's benefit and saw no worth in her/them. Could be a sibling or a friend, the betrayal stung like a bee since she/they saw Tsaritsa as a mother figure or could literally be the mother (Got kunikuzushi'd in a way, minus the puppet part). So, here's the main part - How Arlecchino would handle that person, when they meet in hostile terms. An accidental encounter, had banters and fights and eventually found strange subtle solace from each other. Could be romantic, or just obsession on Arlecchino's part because we love deranged women pls step on me with your sharp heels - anyway, since Arlecchino is interpreted as someone who won't hesitant to betray the Fatui. On her own benefit, works with the reader to mess and interrupt Fatui operations. I won't include more or else you'd be dealing a whole thesis of it. Hahahah! Good day to you~!

One of Repetition

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: in a strange decision nobody quite understood but could not contest, you were dismissed from your position by the tsaritsa herself but allowed to live. you wander for some time, lost and confused, and most notably unable to escape the fatui even when you are no longer associated with them, which means an unwanted letter and an even more unwanted visit from the knave.

୨୧﹑genre :: kinda angsty

୨୧﹑content :: fem reader, reader has a pyro vision, arlecchino has a cryo delusion, reader uses a bow, capitano is not human this time, he's just a plot device too, their previous relationship is implied but ambiguous, implied age difference, reader is most often called by the title brighella, writing this spiralled me into insanity, possibly bad writing, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 13.6k

hehe, I know that Arlecchino simps flock to me once they learn my requests are open. I have no idea why. maybe they're just especially desperate for food, but they linger, and I have a little collection of anons.

don't worry about how much it'll take me, I honestly enjoy writing longer works. anyway, I received a request similar to this some time ago (was it you? I have encountered that before) but haven't gotten around to completing it, so I'll be partly combining the two

here's the other request:

it's gonna provide some stuff for me to follow, and I remember exactly when I got it, so I wanted to include it for the dear anon who sent it

why brighella you may ask well that's because brighella has been described before as essentially Arlecchino's smarter and more vindictive brother and they compliment each other well. I think Arlecchino may also work for Brighella in some versions?? either way it felt right even though they're not really based off of the character brighella, they do share a few traits with him but not fully it's just a fun little parallel

I really did not expect this to be so long that it literally lagged the writing program I was using to save it and I have been staring at this for so long I literally have no gauge on the quality anymore just that it's variable because it took me so long someone send help

Her words left you exasperated, literally at a loss for words, and you struggled to comprehend the reason for it. There was nothing you could think of, no instance that struck you as prominent. Yet, somehow as one of the Tsaritsa's children, you had become what any parent might refer to simply as a disappointment, their failure—the problem child who never quite ironed out their issues. You had always been faithful to her, hopelessly devoted to the archon and her will. News such as this came out of nowhere and struck you like a hammer to the chest.

Two of her most mighty children were near and dear to her, and now the other had turned against you as he remains loyal to her. The Jester, who you once held in high regard, has turned against you. It is a bitter pill to swallow, for you must now sever ties with the one man you believed was truly deserving of serving the Tsaritsa. Your mother— your world— turns against you with him, before him, leading the way for him.

In vain, you draw your bow to strike an arrow between his eyes, prove your strength and power as above your position, above him, but it means nothing. Your strike is blocked, and the Tsarita's Damselette Columbina moves to detain you. You believe she would not be strong enough, but you don't itch to fight ten other Harbingers. You understand that even you have a limit, and fighting what are supposed to be the strongest people in the country is not a part of that. Your honour is on the line, an honour which would tarnish not only Brighella's name but also have a ripple effect on your soldiers, men and women who fought for you and did not deserve a punishment that would result from their actions.

"Think carefully, Brighella." Columbina's warning is not lost on you, "You could remain as a hero or fight, and I will lure the creature you brought from the abyss and gut him before your eyes."

You do not want that. That creature is not yet loyal to the Tsaritsa but to you, and she will convince him he can save you. He will fall into her trap and die.

You bite your lip, trying to think of a way to escape and capture him so that you can run off somewhere. He does not deserve to die, but you can't think of anything. Not when you know how thorough these people are. There is not a will, really. There is only a has. He has fallen into her trap and is at the mercy of the Damselette. "What if I am to obey?" You finally ask the question you did not want to, surrendering in a way, though the bite has not left your words.

"I'll leave him be." Her answer is swift. She expected that you would eventually give in and only needed to wait for it to happen.

You shake your head, dissatisfied with only that as your compensation. "Not enough."

The smile on her face does not waver, thin and deceitful as ever, eyes hidden and closed, unseen behind the band of lace. "Mm. I can't bargain anything else."

"Have him take my place." You lay your condition out firmly. There is only one to meet, and not a hard one at that. It would be easy to sway him into it, using whatever they plan to do to you as motivation. His loyalty and affection for you would make him accept it.

She ponders the situation and proposal momentarily, powerless to make the executive decision but undoubtedly keen on the thought of it all. "He believes that you are about to fall in battle to a foe and that he is going to save you."

You grit your teeth, knowing that this is her trap. Lure him to a place. It was not what you had expected, but it is no less the Damselette's style of acting. There is always a damsel, but perhaps she recognised that she would not suffice this time. She needed a better damsel for him to save; for that to work, it needed to be you.

She needs your name, reputation, your relationship with your subordinate, melding together with her lies to make for a tale of tragedy with him as the hero.

The thought of him rushing to his death under the guise of saving you spikes your blood cold, chilling you. You're aware of her cruelty and always have been, but to experience it is different than hearing about it from her perspective. You are experiencing it from the perspective of the victim.

His death was another factor to hold over your head, your penance, the anchor to force your compliance. Your blood boils with anger, but you cannot fight. Despite your feelings of anger and frustration, you know that lashing out will only cause further harm and pain.

There is only one thing you can do. You know you must. It's simply that you don't want to.

But...you must.

You must for him, that poor creature you tried to give a home to and who would never be in such a position if not for you and your ambition.

"Then I will fall, and you will use the honour I built into him to persuade him."

It was an honour meant to humanise him in a way, a being only able to imitate humanity. He had a mentor and something to fight for. Now you're imploring that it be used against him to burden him, but he will do well in your position.

Columbina smiles, that thin mocking smile like she knows the secrets of this world and more. "Would he really believe that?"

The helmet. You should use the helmet to your advantage. Your subordinate's first exposure to humanity, being you, a woman in a metal helmet, seemed to last. He used to think that was what humans looked like, and he admitted as much to you as he had asked you to remove it. Your impression left an indelible mark on him that he treasures to this day. Even if he was to see you in the aftermath, he would not uncover the lie.

"He has never seen my face. He would not recognise me."

Columbina accepts that readily, and her eyes open, pools of black and white visible through the cracks in the lace over her eyes. You've seen them before, inky black sclera and inhuman patterns decorating the borders of her irises, but you can't help the unsettled feeling that makes a home for itself in the pit of your stomach.

By the evening, you are stripped of your honours, titles and coat and dumped to the curb like a bag of rubbish somebody left out. There is no more fight, no more bargaining, no more arguing. Everyone has the things they want, for the most part, so you are all satisfied enough to remain amicable with each other. Without a fight, you allow the Jester to remove the fur-lined overcoat despite the cold that rushes over you once it is gone and discarded in a heap of fur and fabric on the floor with none of its previous value.

After that comes the slow, deliberate removal of every trinket that denoted you as you. From your delusion, several gifts to your very insignia, the only thing left of you is a lone pyro vision and the clothes on your back. You've never been more thankful to not wear a standard-issue uniform lest you be made to undress and hand that over too.

That was it. Your everything.

With each piece of regalia taken, a part of yourself disappeared until you were left an empty husk of a person, your entire reason for being for hundreds of years snatched out from under you and spat on.

The Harbingers were supposed to be the children of the Tsaritsa, and this was your grand disowning. A show of power and influence over her closest children and, by extension, the ability to bring pain to her less-- to her followers. It was foolish of you to ever think you were special in her eyes for having been by her side since before the Archon War. What did it matter when she left you amongst the rest of them? The years you spent since you had hobbled into her life so tiny and cute were now reduced to a few personal belongings and a set of words that shattered your world to sharp and dangerous pieces that would only hurt you in your haste to reassemble them and string your life back together.

When you were young, your cuteness may have been your best asset: a small body with endearing quirks, the inability to walk long distances without tumbling. In this state, you required her for everything because you would only find danger in the harsh Snezhnayan winters. To even acquire your own food was unthinkable, so you were sheltered and provided with ample treats that you could nibble from the palm of her hand if that were what you wished. Anything to keep you happy and content.

Like a little trinket, she cradled you for as many years as it took you to grow, and once you were at an age you no longer needed to be cradled, she made you her loyal companion, or so you had believed. You thought her affection for you was unwavering. She was the only mother you had ever known; she is the only mother you will remember for all of eternity.

Although it may have been an exaggeration, watching the sun's gradual descent below the horizon, you could almost believe eternity would quickly prove to be a very real concept. You watch the sky darken in silence for a time. You roam aimlessly around the city, your presence still striking unease in the people from the threatening demeanour you learned to conduct yourself with as a Harbinger, even without your official attire. The only remnant of your former self is a helmet you consistently wore during every public appearance.

You can't help your wandering mind. Did your imitation of the Tsaritsa's actions make you weak? Attempting to nurture someone in the same manner she nurtured you? You are not a god, only the former child of one. Maybe you cannot care for him and maintain your objectivity. It's possible that he has become your Achilles' heel, as you were forewarned when the Tsaritsa less than subtly suggested you eliminate him.

You cannot live like this.

No matter how many suns you watched set, you would never come to terms with it living like this. The world you once knew, which revolved around a singular governing entity and individual, has disappeared without a trace. Without a central axis to anchor it in place, your world spirals chaotically out of control, with each passing second feeling more frenzied than the last. Your head is too muddled, your brain too overwhelmed by your emotions to think objectively of the faults in your time as a Harbinger, years of your life spent that way, burying your thoughts beneath a heavy weight of despair.

You almost want to call them wasted, but that would be wrong. Without the Tsaritsa, you might've— no, would've died during the Archon War. Perhaps another god would take you in, but it is unlikely that they would have exhibited the same level of compassion and generosity as the Tsaritsa. They would not have coddled you into comfort the way she did. Then again, what if that had been your downfall? Did she ever genuinely want you to stay? Based on this...perhaps you took her kindness for granted and overstayed your welcome.

You had no right to make demands of her in your final moments as her child, acting like a spoiled brat throwing a temper tantrum. But can you be justified? Can the threat to your subordinate's life negate that? Surely a bit, but not entirely, not if her actions were in response to yours.

Oh, even if you begged on your knees, she would not take you back now.

Why had you not done that before?

She must be disappointed that your attitude was born from her compassion, the epitome of her failures. You do not deserve to call her your mother. You took her generosity as a guarantee, thought yourself above her other children solely because you were her first, and believed you were her favourite for no reason besides your own arrogance.

You have failed the only being in Teyvat willing to show pity toward you.

The deepest heart of Snezhnayan forest welcomes you readily with open arms and the gnashing jaws of monsters starving for food. The forest seems to come alive with a vicious hunger for flesh. You have nothing but your vision and bow left to aid your defence. Your delusion is gone, and your subordinates are nowhere to be found to assist you. Despite this, marking your way with a trail of bodies is easy. It is just an inconvenience to have to always be on guard, but you are strangely used to it.

The cold is numbing as the air hits your face, your fingers almost wholly without a sensation of touch and even a tingle in your toes.

You spent many missions that way, tensed and expecting violence at any moment, hardly allowing yourself to sleep, let alone relax. It feels like nothing has changed in that respect, but you know everything has. You cannot hear the large crackling bonfire or the pattering of footsteps in the snow as your subordinates come to join you, their laughter and chatter and their whispers to each other.

There is a stark silence that is deafening to your ears.

On the seventh night, you pass through a village on the outskirts of Snezhnaya, where you first catch wind of the news you had agreed on. The locals informed you that they had recently halted their work for half a day in your honour, believing that you had passed away. All of them are completely unaware that as they remark on the death of Brighella, they are speaking to the former Harbinger, who asks about the news under the guise of being a curious traveller. They also strongly advised you against venturing into the innermost heart of the nation. If anyone were to notice the helmet carefully secured around your waist, it might bring unwanted attention to your travels.

Though you were stripped of your insignia, you have your armour, which by some grace had been spared from confiscation. Though a seemingly trivial act of kindness, a sense of pride swelled within you as you gazed upon it. You are glad it is still yours. This armour had accompanied you through countless blood-soaked skirmishes, serving as a steadfast shield against all manner of danger.

It is at that moment you decide to treat it as a trophy. Though there is no truth to it, you take responsibility for the Harbinger's slaying. Now, the armour which once protected you as a Harbinger will stand as a triumphant emblem of your hard-won victory over Brighella and the end of the Harbinger's tyrannical hold over the land. You know that you will keep it close, treasuring it always as a tangible reminder of the sacrifices you made to reach this pivotal moment. You slayed Brighella. You ended the Harbinger's tyranny.

If you didn't know better, you would think you were getting a little too far into it and starting to believe it yourself.

By the eleventh night, you find yourself situated in an inn, and the nights only carry on from there all the way up to the twenty-second night since your abrupt dismissal and, to the rest of the world, your supposed demise. Already, the whispers that once revolved around Brighella's defeat now shifted to speculations regarding her successor. The question was not necessarily who, but who could possibly? Her brutal reign as a Harbinger had instilled fear in the hearts of all who crossed her path and in the minds of the people, no one else could measure up to her sheer terror-inducing presence. Nobody knows what happened once they dared to fight Brighella until now. She was only the Fourth of the Tsaritsa's children, but she was the most combat-heavy, and no one wished to cross her, except for the rumoured contender for her throne, who was spoken of in hushed tones as nobody was eager to have their reverence for whoever was bold enough to reach the wrong ears.

Your achievements find their place amongst the rumours as people say that Brighella's killer stole her armour and wears it as her trophy.

Despite the slew of gossip that its patrons indulge in, you enjoy the quaintness of this bar made and run by travellers who use it like a pitstop to rest and recuperate. It is a home to them, along with adventurers and merchants who benefit from the atmosphere. The people are strangers, often reserved and eager to keep to themselves, but have immeasurable wealths of information that spill with a few drinks and a group of acquaintances who are, for only one night of pleasure and indulgence, their lifelong friends.

Among those friends buried in your own tankard of cheap ale, you laugh along with their jokes and entertain their questions like a test of your ability to lie and improvise in this tale you're making for yourself. If they have names, you don't know them. Brighella's death was a glorious battle but isolated to the hills where you were alone.

"Brighella was alone, and they were weakened by prior injury. I don't know what caused it." You mix a dash of the speculations in, downplaying your strength a tad as you're unwilling to expose too much of it. "I'm not one to miss an opportunity. When would it arise again?"

One of your new acquaintances scoffs, amused but no less aware of the dangers of doing such a thing. "And make an enemy of the Fatui?" He is a new graduate of the Sumeru Akademiya who's come to make his way through Snezhnaya for a job offer. Reminds you of someone else, minus the graduating.

"They will not miss her." You are quick to answer—too quick, arguably—as it draws a sliver of attention before dipping back under the radar as a product of your confidence. "Her 'head' makes too cute a decoration on my side to pass up stealing it."

"I wouldn't dare say such a thing. Fatuus comes here sometimes." They are the words of a Snezhnayan native raised to worship the Fatui, though he is somewhat disillusioned by their crimes and cruelty, as you've learned many are.

"Let them hear it!" Your laughter is boisterous and unabashed. "They'll see the armour anyway. They probably despise her like everyone else."

Another one of your new friends, a travelling merchant from Fontaine, interjects your ravings to add only a passing comment. It was as she had done all evening, her secrets locked up tight. "She did not make herself likeable."

"She was not meant to be likeable but a fearsome warrior." Again, the Snezhnayan man rebuttals the criticism against her as he had been doing all evening again.

"You don't have to get so far up her ass, Brighella's not gonna crawl out of her grave and thank you for it."

"You're so vulgar."

You plant your tankard firmly down on the table between the four of you, leaning over it to close the distance between you and the man. "I'm not meant to be likeable either."

Forget being only a little too into the role. You're revelling in the freedom of this new identity of yours.

Quick to disperse the tension, your graduate friend changes the topic without a hint of hesitance in his voice. "They left an underling people believe will take their place. It's a surprise to think Brighella had someone who followed them with such...devotion."

"It's strange, but not impossible." The merchant from Fontaine again, contributing nothing you weren't all already thinking.

"Could she have had a sentimental side?"

"Who cares if she had a sentimental side?"

"Upset the attention isn't on you anymore?"

Anger crosses your face, but you stifle it just as quickly as it appears. You wish their attention was off of you, really. The former you, maybe, but you nonetheless. You want to know about your subordinate. What happened to your second in command? You don't care to hear their speculation as to whether you were or were not particularly emotional with your underlings. You know the answers to all of those questions and more without their guessing games.

"Regardless of the reason, they say the underlying is much easier to swallow than she is, so maybe the position of Fourth Harbinger will change drastically if he takes it."

"Would he really change its purpose if he was so loyal?"

"Unintentionally, perhaps."

God, these people are so dull. Just listening to them, you can tell they know nothing of the ways of the Fatui. Harbingers are not individual job positions with specific parameters. Each role is its own, and they are moulded by the person who assumes them like a character in a play, enchanting and unsettling in a horrific mix of theatrics and violence. It is what they stand for. One does not assume the role and become an actor with a script. They must improvise and act on a whim to the beat of the Tsaritsaʼs drum, their life no longer their own.

They are not whatever these ramblings and poor excuses for speculations make them out to be.

"Terribly misinformed, aren't they?" In your ear is the low voice of the Snezhnayan man holding in his laughter at the two as the scholar and the merchant go back and forth.

You glance to your left, where he has leaned closer to you. "Repulsively," you respond curtly.

He has a faint glint of satisfaction in his eye as you seem to have confirmed something. "I thought you might've been from Snezhnaya."

"So what if I am?"

"It was only an observation."

In the background, the main conversation continues, just as clumsy as it was before you had tuned it out in favour of drinking some more. "Does this mean he will also be named Brighella?"

Straightening back in his seat, the man swiftly interjected their back-and-forth responses to explain to them. "They receive a unique title upon their promotion, and nobody knows what it is until then." A simple enough concept to understand.

"In other words, anything but Brighella."

"It hasn't been long enough to know yet."

"It's strange. Nobody knows his name even now."

That would probably be because you never gave him one.

You considered it in the years you spent with him but couldn't find one you liked. His name was inhuman, not for your ears and not for your tongue, rendering it useless to you and every human who would hear it. The night you found him was spent crowded around a bonfire listing off every suggestion you and your subordinates could think of to no avail, as he only sat quietly by your side and said little about any of these choices, finding no familiarity in any of them. That's only natural, you suppose.

You still haven't chosen a name for yourself that isn't Brighella, either. Your old one is well and truly forgotten, with the years eroding your memories. It had been centuries since you had been called anything else. Evidently, picking names is not your forte.

"As far as I've heard, nobody knows what it is."

You find the mention of your subordinate has completely ruined your mood. You are grateful the creature is alive but worried the knowledge you're snooping around to find out when he will be promoted could land you in trouble. It's troubling enough to wonder if he has heard your tales through the grapevine about how you had supposedly 'killed' Brighella—his mistress and mentor—which he would not be happy about. Though you did not fear the creature before, now that you've personally trained him to understand human combat, you're not so sure you'd want to fight him. It would be a hassle. Unlike many, you do not fear the inhumanity of the Doctor or the stone wall that's called the Jester. Even the cunning Damselette struggles to do more than unsettle you, but you respect that creature's raw strength and understand that no matter what you do, it doesn't matter. You are confined to a human form, and he is not.

You lied when he said he wouldn't recognise you, however. You don't actually know if he would.

You don't know the extent to which his eyes can pick out the details in your appearance that aren't physical. Had he memorised your relative build? Your height? The way you carry yourself and your mannerisms? The thought unnerves you, but so does everything else about him.

"I'm turning in for the night." Without regard for the ongoing conversation, you declare your intentions and abruptly shut down whatever is being said at the time without much care for it. Whatever it is, it isn't important. Your unfinished drink is left behind as you make your way to your quarters.

In retrospect, you understand their eagerness to merely cover up the circumstances of your dismissal. For a Harbinger as feared as Brighella, it is easier to halt work for a mere half-day rather than attempt to contain the resulting fallout of admitting one of their own was inadequate while simultaneously preserving their tenuous hold on power.

Months pass before there is talk of the crowning of a new Harbinger, the people abuzz with the news and eager to know all they can, preferably before the aristocrats feel like sharing the night of the event. You considered attending the ceremony but ultimately decided against it. You may have the courage to do so, but you are certainly not stupid enough to wander into the waiting heart of the Fatui's clutches. You have waited patiently for this moment and can easily wait longer to hear the news.

No longer treating the inn like a home, you settled somewhere in the plains of another nation only a few weeks after you had first arrived there, sensing the barkeep was getting sick of you and the attention you were drawing to his otherwise obscure establishment.

People settled there for a night, saw you were there, and word of mouth as they boasted of their encounters with you lured others who came to see you. While this influx of new customers certainly provided a boost to business, it also had the unintended consequence of driving away those who preferred to keep a low profile and valued its place as being for those 'in the know'. In other words, while you were great for a boom in business, you were bad for long-term business.

The barkeep pushing the mora you tried to pay him to pay for another night was enough to send the message he wanted you gone, out by morning. The idea you were not to come back for quite some time was clear to you in the look he gave you.

Liyue, on the other hand, is filled with mountains and teeming with visitors who have come to witness the highly anticipated Rite of Descension. Surprisingly, the influx of tourism only adds to the overall enjoyment of your experience. You would think that tourism would hinder your time there, but completely contrary it makes it better in a way. The locals are expecting an influx of outsiders to come to see the Geo Archon in person, and, as a result, they are not only willing to hire help for the time but also serve later at food stalls, and the place is livelier.

People notice you less as you blend into a crowd of people who don't belong, and you slip under the radar.

You have no interest in the Rite of Descension nor the Geo Archon, and most of your time is spent outside the Harbour.

Wangshu Inn is still within Liyue but at a considerable distance from the Harbour, a mid-point between there and the border to Mondstadt. It is quieter, which is neither good nor bad, and home to some very understanding owners who ask so few questions it almost alarms you. Nonetheless, you crave respite from the chaos and theatrics you were revelling in as a reprieve from the stress you were under, wondering how you would live your life now. At one point, you relished being hailed as a hero by many, but it soon became overwhelming, and you found yourself trapped in the clutches of Brighella once again.

Whether by design or happenstance, your identity had begun to consume your life again, and if you wanted to have any hope of living outside of Brighella, then that had to stop. And so, you sought out a place to lay down your burdens and unwind, leading you to where you are now.

You arrive your old self, and despite clinging to it since your travels had begun, you remove every piece of your armour for what you intend to be a long time and leave it all neatly arranged for when you eventually return to it. You feel compelled to finally don the fresh outfit you acquired during your journey through Fontaine. Admittedly floor-length dresses and extravagance are not your style after years of being cooped up in a heavy suit of armour, but there's something alluring about trying out a new look, especially when it involves pants that don't weigh more than a third of your body weight. Besides, you always kind of liked them anyway, just...not yet. Now seems like a good time to dip your toes in.

You almost don't recognise yourself when you finally see yourself in the mirror. Perhaps you got too used to seeing a metal helmet staring back at you and a suit of armour for a body, but the fresh air against your skin and lighter clothes feels...good.

For the first time in a while, you feel free.

The new outfit is making you giddy, too giddy for your taste. You don't recall having such an innate pep in your step, only one that felt deserved, but this different. While you typically associate a sense of satisfaction with having earned it through hard work or perseverance, this newfound exuberance seems to come from just existing in your new clothes. You are happy just because even if there is nothing to feel happy about. It's as if the simple act of wearing them has given you a boost, despite not having accomplished anything significant. It doesn't even seem like you made much progress toward becoming yourself when you lay it all out on paper. You bought clothes and wore them, that's it.

Something about it feels so much like yourself. The freedom to stray from what you thought you were until now, something you hadn't dared to try before.

One thing you like about Wangshu Inn is how it serves even people who aren't staying there. The ground floor overlooking the water is designated as almost a kind of restaurant. People filter in and out to be served, stay for lunch, meet with friends, and take breaks from their missions. It is meant as a place for travelling merchants, but you find that is not all its patrons see in it.

You are not nearly as sociable as you were in the Snezhnayan bar you were at, but this seems more manageable anyway.

"If you've come looking for work, the Adventurer's Guild may have a place for you." A suggestion from a merchant who struck up an idle conversation with you for some reason sticks with you. You can't say why, but you imagine a product of boredom.

"They accept anyone?" Your surprise is evident in your tone, as you thought they might have tighter restrictions.

Just as in disbelief fact as you are, he shrugs, "As long as you've got enough power to back yourself, a friend of mine said they'll accept anyone."

That sounds far too good to be true, at least for your taste. "And it doesn't matter where you come from or where you go?"

"Adventurers are known to get restless in one place for too long."

"I see, and you can just go up a--"

"Excuse me, miss." You don't remember hearing that voice, but you recognise the attire when you turn your head just enough to be met with the sight of a cicin mage standing before you impatiently awaiting your attention. The top half of her face is concealed, as is customary, but there's no mistaking the unkind smile that tugs at the corners of her lips as you meet her gaze.

Has she come for retribution?

Despite your fears of having to make a mess, the woman reveals a letter that is sealed with wax and extends it towards you, expecting you to receive it sooner rather than later as she waves it slightly as a form of incentive. "From the Damselette," she adds.

"What could the Damselette want with me?"

"Perhaps a warning." The words slip by, quiet but noticeable, immediately catching your attention. You raise an eyebrow at her. She's slowly unveiling her contempt at your presence; you're very aware of that fact. You are not familiar with her. It is unlikely that she ever worked under your command. However, it is possible that she might've held a certain level of regard, which has since turned to hostility as rumours of her arrogant killer run rampant. "I don't know. I'm not privy to those things."

Your eyes glance over her from head to toe in thought, scrutinising her for any indication of where her animosity came from. However, there is nothing that gives away her motives. You break your gaze away from her and glance down at the letter in your hand. "I suggest you get a better hold of your tongue. They don't like it when you're rude to their guests."

Her smile does not waver. "You are not a guest." She states that fact with glaringly false politeness.

"Everyone who recieves correspondence from a Harbinger is a guest."

You suppose you can't fault her disdain when all is said and done.

From somewhere tucked away in her clothing, she pulls what appears to be a knife from your peripheral vision and points it at you, but you look up to find it is only a blunt letter opener balanced in the palm of her hand, waiting to be picked up.

"I was ordered to stay until you had read the letter to deliver her your response."

Just as she believes you are a murderer, the letter addresses you as such. Your lies have reached her ears. Moreover, she is playing along with them.

You expected threats and unfair deals, but it is only an update on what is happening regarding your position, the reassurance that they have not violated the terms of the agreement made. A half-hearted apology and an excuse. Preparations set them back, supposedly.

While you imagine preparing not only a funeral but a ceremony to announce the next Harbinger does take time, it would not take this much time with how prepared they were to kill you off in the first place. It was a planned betrayal.

It just looks better if they don't appear so prepared.

For whatever reason, perhaps your consolation prize for enduring her shameless lies, she shares a secret with you. As you casually scan the letter with little care for its contents, your attention is immediately drawn to the heart of the matter. It's the very subject on everyone's minds and all that anyone speaks of.

Il Capitano. His name is Il Capitano.

Personally, you would not have picked it, but that does not mean that you hate the name. Quite the opposite, in fact, as you have to admit that when you envision the name paired with his face, it suits him well. She ends the letter promising that she will 'take good care of him', though you know that your respective ideas of those words do not align or even coexist in the same universe. There is an unmistakable discrepancy between her intentions and your own, and you don't like it.

"Come back to us, Brighella. You can watch everything you wanted in person."

You won't go back. It's a trap.

Irritated, you find yourself back in the heart of the country where nobody lurks, haphazard in the way you fire your arrows at every creature that dares to disturb your sense of peace. It's hard to focus, and you don't bother trying. Liyue is not the same as Snezhnaya, with open plains broken up by rocky mountains. The creatures are mostly the same, and all die the same, hilichurls and geovishaps running rampant and shot down into piles of meat and rocks.

It doesn't matter how loudly you shout, as there's nobody around to hear it. You could scream, cry, and throw a tantrum all you want, and it won't matter. Even if you throw yourself at the ground and bang your head into the dirt, nobody will see it.

This is all pointless. You will never escape. It will never matter how far you roam or how fast you run.

Why did you think you could? Had your brain melted from your head?

There is no other side. There is no salvation. You are owned from the day you're brought in until the day you die, but why? Why did they want to bring you back to Snezhnaya? What was the point? You are out of the way now, hardly causing trouble for them. Despite this, everything seems to be running smoothly, even with the liberties you have taken in your new role. Was that it? The reason they wanted you to see?

It must be. There is no other reason to risk exposing the lie otherwise. Unless it was to tarnish the Fatui's reputation.

You refuse to believe it is something as innocent as wanting to see your request honoured. Nothing is innocent within the Fatui, not an action without hidden intentions or motives. Centuries of watching their misdeeds from the inside, which always go unpunished and unchallenged by anyone except the powerless commoners, have taught you that there is always an ulterior motive lurking behind their actions.

Not to mention it came from Columbina.

You must've spent three days out there before finally returning to Wangshu Inn, dirtied by the elements and craving something to eat, like a child's insatiable desire for sweets. The dead of night provides a cover for you to take a dip in the water beside the inn in an attempt to rinse the dirt and sweat off of you. It dawns on you that your new clothes would've been ruined if you hadn't had the foresight to change before venturing out again. In that moment, thoughts of the Fatui and the memories evoked by your armour flooded your mind, and you didn't want the same thing to happen to the clothes that had made you so happy from the moment you put them on.

It feels childish how you cling to these things.

A part of you just can't help it, torn between holding onto the memories that define who you believe yourself to be and starting anew with a clean slate. Neither can win. One is stuck on the past and what little you have of it, and the other wants to abandon all of that and start completely fresh.

The half-compromise you are trying desperately to make work by accepting that what's gone is gone while keeping your armour close to your heart is obviously not working. The thought of discarding it pains you too much to actually do it, plagued by the urge to melt it down to scrap metal while also being overwhelmed by the knowledge you will regret doing that as soon as you see the mess that would be left of it.

Your new clothes make you happy, so you need more new things to make you even happier, right? If new means you glean happiness, then more new is what will help you move past all of this deliberation in your head.

Clothes were a given, and...maybe a haircut? Yeah. You should try cutting your hair and decide on a name for yourself that isn't Brighella. Something you want, a name you like, that you can look at yourself and see that person reflected in a mirror. The person you think you are supposed to be when you look past the expectation that has been instilled in you.

That merchant you spoke to mentioned the Adventurer's Guild might have a place for you. What if you should be helping people instead of hurting them? What if you only did that to please the Tsaritsa?

In the background of your thoughts, you walk yourself back to your room at the Wangshu Inn and collapse onto your bed, thinking. Though you are exhausted, you cannot bring yourself to sleep for one reason or another. You make excuses for yourself just to ignore the glaring root of the problem you know is there but refuse to acknowledge. The problem isn't really how hot or cold the room is or the texture of your blankets and how much you dislike the humidity in the air. Something else entirely is keeping you from rest.

Your hair isn't the problem either, or your clothes. Even your lack of a proper name really doesn't bother you. They're only the illusion of change you're using to cover up how truly lost you have become now that you have to think for yourself.

How long have you been alive now? Centuries at least. You can't even live independently after that long? No. No, you can't.

You are so lonely, you are lost, you are confused. You need company, you need guidance, and you need purpose. How are you supposed to live? Where is the person who will tell you what to do every day?

You have to make that choice yourself? You can't do that. You've never done that.

The thought of even something so basic scaring you so severely brings you to a weakness you never realised you even possessed. Fear surges through the very depths of your being, an unfamiliar sensation that you find unsettling. You don't like it, but it's an impossible feeling to push down and ignore. Over the years, you had quietly collected your shortcomings into a neat little jar and pushed it aside, out of sight, away from your conscious thought, as if pretending you were invincible.

What would you have done if you had gotten to Capitano? Make him decide?

He can't. He's not human. He doesn't know enough to decide. You've only made him just like you, a fearsome man until he's abandoned and vulnerable like you have become, and then he'll be pathetic and helpless too.

Nothing came out of any of your efforts, did it? It couldn't have possibly. Even with every attempt you made, it was always doomed to fail.

It turns out that the Adventurer's Guild was more than happy to take you in, in a way. They put you right to work. It helps to take your mind off of things if nothing else. It's mindless work, able to tune out everything in your brain and run on auto-pilot. You take to this life so well it scares you, completing your tasks with so little trouble you wonder how this isn't more popular, even if some are arguably unnecessary. If only you were good at proper cooking, you might get rich from the tens of requests for certain dishes.

You're irresistibly drawn to the combat, right back to the heat of battle where you feel truly alive. In all you've had to question, your love for the thrill of fighting has never been up for debate. You're unsure whether it's the adrenaline or something else, but you don't care to know, either. You don't concern yourself with such questions. It's not important to you why, so long as you find comfort in it. It's the one thing you cannot be robbed of.

A hard day's work is always rewarding.

"Make sure you be careful today." A fellow adventurer is quick to catch you before you can wander off for your next quest, smiling and unbothered despite his words. You've never met him, but he speaks as if you have.

Something about the bond of adventurers is so reminiscent of the Fatui.

You turn back to place your full attention on him rather than the grilled tiger fish you had acquired out of curiosity about the taste. "Why's that?" You're not too bothered, expecting him to tell you that it's dangerous out there, the Abyss Order existing and all.

"The Fatui are restless."

His words catch you off-guard, light in tone as they are. In outward appearances, he's mostly unbothered, while the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

You try to grasp your bearings just enough to speak. "They don't do that for fun." Something about it is just as shaky as you expected, unable to fully mask it, but you figure he'll blame it on nerves.

"Harbinger, apparently." He doesn't draw attention to your demeanour, so neither do you.

"Which one?"

"Dunno."

It's probably Columbina. Maybe you pissed her off when you shot the messenger. Yeah, she probably wouldn't appreciate that. When you did it in a fit of anger, you expected her to find it funny after coming to your senses.

"Hey. Something wrong?"

You startle as you realise he had been speaking that whole time, and you just weren't listening.

"Sorry?"

"I said it's weird that they'd be up and about so soon after the newest was officially promoted."

You deadpan a little, realising it wasn't something of actual value, just a misconception that the greatest powers that be in Snezhnaya aren't spiteful enough to hate each other just as much as they hate everyone else. "Not really. They're not particularly sentimental."

"They don't even care to go out drinking for their own?"

"They hardly know how to tolerate each other." You realise your slip of the tongue too late, seeming too familiar. That's a problem. He barely draws attention to it, only making a strange face.

"Well, whatever the reason, work doesn't stop for them."

In silence, you agree and continue your day as if you really believe that.

As you wrap up your work for the day, you feel a sense of pleasant exhaustion wash over you. It struck you as strange that nobody was out in the wild, even the usual fatuus you avoid. Something about it was uniquely eerie. It dawns on you why he came to the conclusion that the Fatui were 'restless'. They must have retreated into the city to prepare for the impending arrival of the Harbinger destined to disrupt the small peace you had found. The sudden influx of fatuus in Liyue would make it seem like they are increasing in numbers nationwide when in reality, they are just moving.

You're not going to let it bother you for now.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know you have promised yourself that repeatedly and have found it to be a lie, but you mean it this time. You're familiar enough with the workings of the Fatui to know that they don't like to leave sectors alone for too long, and Liyue had spent a fair time before your dismissal unchecked.

Even at night, you remain unbothered when you wander Liyue for a time, looking for something to do and notice what he was talking about.

Many of them are fussing more than usual, meaning that chances are it's too late to inhibit the process of this Harbinger arriving. You could turn tail and run, scurry off to the other side of Teyvat and settle in Fontaine or even Natlan, but you like it here.

You sit in the heart of Liyue, listening to a speaker tell his stories. You know you shouldn't linger, but you tell yourself you can for just a little while longer. It reminds you of the past, filled with Liyue legends you remember hearing about as news at the time they took place. The fact these tales are now old enough to be suitable for a speaker's recitation as 'legends' is a grim reminder that maybe you're older than you realised. Your early life is now from the time of legends. You can push that feeling aside to focus on the nostalgia of hearing these stories.

Beside you, you hear the chair move but don't budge from looking to see who it is, assuming that all other chairs are taken or that it's an adventurer who got curious, possibly even the man you had spoken to earlier about all of the Fatui--

“Reminiscing, Brighella?”

You recognise both that voice and that name and go stiff, eyes finding her before your head can even turn in her direction.

In front of you—or rather, across from you—the Knave sits upon the other chair at your table as if she was always supposed to be there, seemingly at ease, but you know better than to assume her guard is down. Arlecchino has always had an icy composure, though she can be hot-headed at times and can lose her temper when provoked. It's not surprising that she was able to track you down, even without knowing what your face looks like.

She turns to you leisurely, unhurried. "I came to look for you since you missed the ceremony." It sounds like a greeting the way she speaks those words. You suppose it is one, really.

Ah, maybe you should've been worried after all.

You try to play off your emotions as if you're completely unfazed by her presence. It's the only way to maintain some semblance of control. "Did Columbina not like my gift?"

"Oh, she rather enjoyed it." Arlecchino maintains a similar composure, knowing approaching you in public means employing subtlety as much as it means she's less likely to be attacked. "She felt it was just the kind of gift you would give."

"I try my best not to disappoint." Your response is less enthusiastic than you might like, a hint of nervousness infesting your brain and refusing to budge.

Despite this, she doesn't notice, not outwardly. Really, that means nothing, as you are very aware of how good her poker face is. "Il Capitano hasn't stopped speaking about how much he'd like to kill you. You don't want to disappoint, do you?" When you were waiting for her to speak, those weren't the words you expected to hear, but somehow you're not fully surprised either.

"I see, so my lies reached even his ears."

You thought as much.

"I think you'll be quite surprised when you see him." Her reply is so cocky that you almost scoff at her.

"Who said I would be seeing him?" You try to match the audacity she had to make such a remark.

She turns to you rather casually for the words she speaks, an odd tone you can't quite place, lacing her words half like mockery. "You miss him, don't you?"

It's that question that makes you snort and turn away as you realise that her negotiation and persuasion skills are abysmal for such a cunning and intelligent woman. "Not enough to become foolish enough to trust someone whose title denotes them as dishonest and untrustworthy." You always wondered about that, really. "A name like 'the Knave' really isn't subtle."

"Funny." She doesn't laugh or even smile. "I believe yours was something close to 'bother'."

You lean back in your chair, testing it slightly as you push the front legs off the floor as a means of entertaining yourself through this frankly dull conversation. "Then I suppose we're both living up to our names."

She remains silent for several seconds, pondering her next words. You can see her fingers rub against the wood of the chair as a distraction.

"The others told me it was pointless to try to bring you back."

"They were right."

"You won't come back for any reason?"

"I know a trap when I see one."

"Of course."

Silence, again. You don't care to break it, either. You came to hear the stories, and you really would like to continue that rather than listening to her voice, but she's not making it easy.

"Is that all now?" Your voice shows your impatience more than you might like, but you realise it may work in your favour if she senses she's annoying you.

For the first time in a while, she smiles faintly to herself. "For now. Your answer is abundantly clear." She appears to concede, if only for a little while

You let the chair land back on all of its legs and lean your elbow on the table.

"Are you going to get out of that chair?"

"No."

"And why is that?"

"It's comfortable."

The urge to roll your eyes brims in your mind, but you stop yourself. You don't want to give the Knave the satisfaction of knowing something she is already well aware of. Besides that, you don't want her to know that you really don't want her here in any capacity. Arlecchino's presence is never a good thing.

You let out a tentative breath as you consider your next words quite carefully. The wrong thing might have Arlecchino never leaving you, and the right one might drive her back to Snezhnaya if you're lucky. You shift your whole body to face her. "You just arrived from Snezhnaya, I take it. What do you want to eat?"

She eyes you suspiciously, scrutinising you for any sign of trying to fool her into consuming poison or making herself sick. "You're feeding me now?"

You pretend you don't notice her intensity. "Well, you're not leaving. It would look strange for me to order food for myself."

Again she smiles to herself, a light mockery that's cautious and testing, easing herself into accepting your offer. "I wasn't aware you cared so much."

"You could starve if you'd prefer." You turn away as you speak and don't look back, shifting yourself back in your seat to be front-facing.

There's a quietness between the two of you, both waiting for the answer to your proposal. You have an inkling Arlecchino will accept, but you don't know with her. She never seemed especially pleased by the times the Jester would convene you all over meals and such, ending up in fights and bickering. She never fought with you, however, so perhaps it's different.

"Order whatever you like."

You find yourself looking intently at a list of the options on the menu. It's quite a lengthy list. "Mm..." Even though it's just a false invitation and you're doing it to be courteous, you can't say you aren't enjoying the thought of picking out a meal and sharing it with her. Despite your removal from the Fatui's affairs for some time, you'd be lying if you thought you weren't at least a little curious. "Jade Parcels...and maybe Jade Fruit Soup? But Dragon Beard Noodles sound good too..."

Becoming slightly irritated by your indecision, Arlecchino looks across the table to where you are sitting deep in thought. "Is it that complicated of a decision?"

You spare her only a glance before returning to looking for something she would enjoy. "I have to pick something you'll like, don't I?"

Soup is more challenging to share than noodles are.

With that, your decision is made, and you settle. Despite yourself, you are somewhat restless in thought. Arlecchino's lack of contribution is slightly frustrating, but it sounds like she'd be content with anything. You're not sure if your choice is the correct one, but you believe you picked something to the best of your abilities that is easy, even to a foreign tongue. As far as you know, Arlecchino is from Fontaine. You've never eaten like this with Arlecchino to know her tastes or dietary restrictions.

"Jade Parcels and Dragon Beard Noodles. Sound good?"

"It'll do."

"Good. I'll go order it, then."

Arlecchino must be surprised that you returned, as she doesn't seem too thrilled. She never really does, but there was a disappointed glint in her eye right up until you walked in front of her to get to your chair.

It continues until you get the food, and Arlecchino finally stares at it with an overwhelming sense of dread, left with an intense feeling of apprehension regarding whether. You appear not to hesitate, though this arrangement isn't quite what she had expected. Arlecchino had thought you would order enough dishes that you wouldn't have to share, but you seemed to understand it in a way that meant you would be eating from the same bowl.

You notice her hesitation almost immediately, yet your vexation with her arrival makes you unwilling to acknowledge that you know the reason, a deliberate miscommunication on your part. "Mm. I didn't think this through." Your words seem to make her perk up as if you will free her from her awkwardness by asking for another bowl. "You probably aren't used to using chopsticks, are you? Not many dishes that need those back home."

She knows you're toying with her, that sweet smile from across the table hardly hiding your true intentions. Arlecchino waits, watching to see what you will do next, as she looks back at you with a scowl.

Her eyes do not leave you as you wordlessly collect a Jade Parcel and present it to her like you are patronising her with this action. Your feigned kindness, this supposed benevolence of you offering to feed her like a child, no doubt hoping she'll back down and excuse herself completely.

She won't let you do that and have the satisfaction of seeing her back down. She won't allow you to break her facade of acceptance.

Though you circle the food in front of her slowly, only a motion with your fingers trying to convince her or make her as uncomfortable as possible, Arlecchino continues to stare for several more moments. Eventually, she musters the courage to relinquish some of her pride.

Arlecchino leans in slightly, just enough to open her mouth and take a bite from the food you hold out for her. Despite the circumstances that led to this moment, she can't help but acknowledge your good taste. Arlecchino couldn't possibly eat another bite that way, though. Not being fed by the woman who is now her adversary just to avoid her 'winning' in the situation, but admitting she is willing to let you get under her skin is not an option either.

She must treat this situation differently, as if you are merely feeding her out of obligation to her rather than because you have your own motives.

It hardly stops her from enjoying her portion of the meal from the chopsticks you share with her. At some point, it finally occurs to her that you only hold one pair, leaving her set untouched despite feeding her. You had been feeding her with the same set you ate with the entire time, and while you were well aware of that, it hardly seemed to alarm you as much as it alarmed her.

Your biggest disappointment was being unable to get rid of her that whole time, watching her readily accept whatever you tried to use against her. Watching a Harbinger practically bow their head and obey you, however, fuels your consciousness. It's like eye candy to think back and realise you did that.

It's another one of your quiet defiances against the Tsaritsa. You wonder how far you can take it.

As you stand from your seat, you stretch your arms above your head until you hear a faint pop as all the tension in your back relaxes. "I don't imagine you'll be leaving anytime soon."

"No. I have plenty of business outside of you." It's not a lie. She's got a lot to do in Liyue even without your presence, but you're a priority.

You lean back over your chair, a mischievous little look on your face. "Do tell."

"You know that I can't do that." She's not amused by the attempt, either.

You straighten back to your usual height and brush it off in moments. "Unfun. I thought your loyalty to the Tsaritsa could be won over easily."

She scowls. "Not by you."

"I see. You have standards after all."

She chooses to ignore your comment. Up until now, you have had quick-fire conversations, sometimes interrupted by a silence that drags on. This is no exception.

"Capitano truly believes you are dead." Arlecchino realises when she has caught your attention, and that time is now. She notices how your head tilts towards her ever so slightly, and your head raises. "For a time, he grieved, but it didn't last long. He has become fixated on the idea of revenge ever since he heard that Brighella's killer was running around boasting about their achievements with the authentic armour to support their claims."

Suddenly it makes some small amount of sense in your mind why they would want you to come back exactly. Capitano won't stay put forever. If he's stuck on vengeance, he won't rest until he exacts it. You weren't thinking about how much your stories would piss him off at the time.

When you spend an extended period of time silent and seemingly disinclined to answer, Arlecchino continues. "I want to show you to him."

You have subjected him to human emotions he's not equipped to deal with. Rightfully, you feel horrible like more of your failures are being wrenched from your corner and dumped out into the open for all to see. It doesn't matter that you're in Liyue, where nobody knows the two of you. You don't want them to see either.

"He wouldn't want to see me." You don't think she really wanted to hear those words when you finally speak. Her expression gives it away. "He should enjoy his position without my interference. I've ruined his life enough."

"You've given him power and status, he should be grateful for that--"

"No. He shouldn't." You don't even wait for her to finish. She hasn't even realised it yet. Not the way you've been forced to. That power is a detriment, not a blessing. Why should he want that? "I thought that way as well, but now I…I don't think my choice was the correct one."

Arlecchino was not expecting to evoke your vulnerability, shallow as it may be for now. "What choice?"

"To bring him back from the abyss."

From a purely objective perspective, taking in Capitano was the cause of everything. Arlecchino presumably thinks of it in the way you don't want her to, that you regret taking him in because he ultimately ruined everything for you, causing your world to fall apart. You don't. You wish you hadn't dragged him down with you.

Now Capitano still dealing with the consequences of your choices. He was perfectly satisfied where he was and would've remained that way had he not been caught up in your plans. It was your arrogance that made you think Capitano would prefer to come with you. At no point in your first interaction had he indicated he was displeased in his circumstances, only hostile because humans were so close to him. It is an understandable thing, considering that humans were a foreign concept to him and potentially posed a threat.

"Because he overtook you?"

There it is.

Despite her words, she appears to have dropped her irritated expression and the impatience in her words and actions. You are finally speaking, and she won't lose that opportunity to an avoidable break in her temper.

"No. No, nothing like that." You try to find the words to explain it, even knowing she likely wouldn't understand it in her current position. You doubt she could ever comprehend it with how she treats her loyalty. "It's more like… Off the record, though I was cherished for many years, even I eventually became disposable. I have left Capitano in the hands of the person who caused that, and now I have damned him to the same fate."

Arlecchino is silent in thought, mulling over your words with great care. The tone of the conversation shifted right under your noses, and with it, so did her demeanour. She became relaxed in a way, though you imagine no less guarded than she always is. "I fail to see how your performance declined. In fact, you are more necessary now than you have ever been."

"I see." In your head, that means she's on your side to a degree. "So you believe that my termination was a mistake?"

"A grave error at best." Her words only confirm the way you thought of it. "Even if you had declined in performance, the people have begun to question more than ever, which sabotages the political landscape of Snezhnaya for those who care about it, the same people who stood idly by while you were ousted. Those who oppose the Fatui are pushing the notion that we must be weaker than we appear, because if even Brighella could die, then what does that say for the rest of us."

Though you wish you could say that concept was inconceivable, the idea that those fighting for reform would seize upon your demise as a means to spur change. It's not shocking that everyone else has been called into question, either. Though it is easy to push the role of frontrunner onto the Director, his duty is mainly administrative, as is the case with many high-ranking positions. His wrath is quick and brutal, and sparse. Dottore is too busy with his disgusting hobbies, and Columbina must remain in the light as a figure they can cling to. That leaves the position of Fourth as the one who is publicly the most violent and ruthless, which used to fall to you.

"I see. Is that why they want me to come back?" You don't expect an honest answer as you ask that question, half anticipating another play at your heartstrings.

"No."

Frustratingly, she doesn't elaborate.

"I'll only agree to return if Capitano is free to do as he wishes."

She scoffs, somewhat returning to her brash attitude. "Even if I could make that decision, we're well past the point where that's a possibility."

You know that she's correct in that.

Still, you can't stop the sight you let out. You knew the request was wonderful in theory but inconceivable in practice, but asking never hurt anyone. "Then what do you want from me? I take it that though I'm only a stagehand, my part in the theatre is not yet over."

"Is that how you see it?"

"Answer my question."

"Execution."

You pause at her answer.

"Execution?"

You're not even sure you heard her correctly. The execution of who? Brighella has already been put to death, and Capitano has barely warmed his seat among the Harbingers. Nobody left in this is worth killing, given the precarious nature of the Fatui's support in the aftermath of Brighella's murder. It was already unstable, and now things are just worse, with no better word to describe.

You doubt they made the decision lightly.

"Execution. Your execution for the murder of Brighella and crimes against the state."

Your nerves instantly spike again, and your guard is higher than ever. At any moment, you could need to draw your bow and fight her because even though you're unsure of how to treat this life, you're not ready to give it up. No foe has scared you before, and neither will the prospect of rebuilding from square one.

"I see, so you've come to extradite me."

"You read my intentions horribly. I'm impressed you managed to make it so far like that."

You furrow your brows in annoyance. "Then what?"

"The values of the Fatui no longer align with mine." The assertion draws your attention more than anything else. You have always been aware that she is unconcerned with the ideas of loyalty and honour, which you can't fault her for. Abiding by the code of honour the Tsaritsa instilled in you left you here.

You may be completely wrong, but she was so vague and doesn't seem to be waiting to say anything else. "Is this your way of telling me you're deserting the Fatui?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"You so happen to be someone I like."

You're startled by that as well. As far as you were aware, the decision to do nothing in the face of your dismissal was unanimous. You thought Capitano was your only remaining ally. Even if she's the lowest ranking, that is not indicative of power in an objective sense but of authority. In a sense, she is the new 'you' of the Harbingers, as she always was to a degree.

Blame for the disorder is shifting in your absence to her.

"Because I cleaned the messes you now manage?"

"Because you aren't cowardly and fixated on politics but inhibited by them. You are a model of what is right." You can't say you follow what she's saying but allow her to continue. "Pulcinella and even Pierro refuse to travel abroad, always making excuses to shirk their jobs when faced with danger in order to comfortably remain in luxury. From the day I joined, you stood out to me in that way."

You raise an eyebrow at her, unimpressed by whatever she's trying to do right now. "Are you trying to flatter me into coming back?"

"I was telling the truth." She doesn't look impressed, either.

You feel a little embarrassed by that, suddenly feeling as though you really had responded quite rudely to an innocent statement. "Hearing a person idolise me is strange," you admit.

"It's not idolising." Her correction is sharp.

"Sounded close enough."

Silence again, as with the pauses scattered around the rest of your conversation. You aren't catapulting the topic into something of great interest or progressing, and neither is Arlecchino. Her lips press into a thin line trying to hide any cracks and stifle any emotion that slips through.

"I admire you."

You did not realise such a thing was possible, really.

"I thought you may have remembered the times we shared and think fondly of it, but perhaps not. We fought once- maybe twice- before. We drank together. Nothing else."

To end that statement with 'nothing else' as if to reduce every conversation, interaction, hour and experience to ashes is thoughtless at best. You didn't remember either instance in which Arlecchino believes you fought and still don't, though you try to now that you have come to find it apparently happened. If it did, the chances of you actually remembering is slim to none with how your memory is. It's not that you forget things quickly, but that minor events slip through the cracks in your frankly chock-full memory.

"I don't remember them, I'm sorry."

"I didn't expect you to."

Despite her words, there is a faint bittersweetness to it, the realisation you are insignificant to the person you aspire toward being like. Somewhere, even if she is aware it was always not only a possibility but highly likely, it still feels like a letdown, the fragile hope you might remember her strength. You only remember her drunken and all too enamoured by you to think properly. It is foolish of her to feel that way because you have battled many foes, and expecting you to remember all of them, let alone your underling, is unreasonable.

"You still haven't answered my question." Changing the topic, you take the opportunity to try to direct her back to what you asked in the first place. "Why are you really here?"

"The Jester gave me permission to pursue you, believing I would attempt to convince you to return to Snezhnaya after Columbina failed." As Arlecchino begins to explain, it slowly begins to make sense as the pieces fall neatly into place. "However, I have no interest in appeasing the wants of dignitaries who care only for their comfort."

You don't want that either. It's just a repeat of Capitano. "Do you understand how dangerous what you're doing is?" It's an attempt to remind her, but Arlecchino's unwavering expression tells you that reminders are unnecessary and unwanted.

"Yes, you were removed for less." She only confirms it for you. "Dottore is of the opinion that you will be forgotten, as are several others-" you imagine singling him out has something to do with them fighting all the time- "but that is simply impossible."

"Times change. You would be surprised how many things we thought would never be forgotten that humans have completely lost all knowledge of."

To her, that concept may be harder to swallow. Arlecchino has never seen the centuries roll by as you have and isn't as familiar with what does and does not remain. Even the greatest gods fell in the Archon War, and most humans cannot name any but the seven Archons. It is natural to forget and progress. The past is meant to become speculation and theory.

"I won't allow that." Abruptly she stops, though her sudden words startle you somewhat with how intense they are. That kind of illogical thought process is natural, maybe. You can't really say. "They could remember."

You shake your head in response, a firm denial before she's even begun to try and sell you on the idea. "There's no need for them to remember."

"There is every need."

"People don't glean the same admiration you do for someone they see as a tyrant."

"Then evoke fear!"

"Enough." You did not expect to have to put your foot down so harshly but do not hesitate to. "I won't entertain this."

Arlecchino grits her teeth at how easily you let go. Even though you are obviously not acclimated to civilian life, you refuse her offer that would allow you to return to Snezhnaya in a potential position of power. It is yet another failed step in the many she expected to have to take to convince you.

"Then let me hide you until some time passes."

"I'm not a precious treasure." She ignores how you roll your eyes at her, completely withdrawing how emotionally available you had managed to be. She can't let her anger take control of her again. "I can handle myself thank you very much."

You sense she will not be giving up easily.

Even if you could convince her to leave you to your devices and that you would be fine, you doubt she would accept that. However, you have a feeling she knows you intend to disappear after this conversation. You have no idea why else she would pour her heart out in an attempt to make you easier to keep hold of. If you leave, you hold the advantage.

"I cannot continue to defend your honour while you stand by and allow them to do as they please with your name."

That doesn't worry you too much when you've been contributing to it since leaving. "Then give up. Let my name be tarnished."

Arlecchno's anger finally begins to boil over despite her efforts to contain it, rage spilling from the cracks in her composure. "You cannot have forgotten everything we did together."

"Of course I have not forgotten that." Your words are more fuel than suffocation to the growing fire.

"Then accept my help and stop being so stubborn."

"There's no need to."

She grabs you by your arm before you can step away, and you can feel a chill in her hand seep into your skin, likely a byproduct of her delusion. It doesn't hurt, but it doesn't match well with how warm you are most of the time. "You would be willing to pretend you don't wish for normalcy to avoid confronting the Tsaritsa?"

"If I return to Snezhnaya, I will die." You lay it out as directly as possible, without an if, but or and. There's no room to debate this because the outcome will not change. Even if the two of you decide you're best friends, nobody else will see things that way, so it's pointless to pretend you don't see it as it has to be.

Arlecchino finally appears to consider your words more carefully, remaining silent again, but you do not interrupt her this time. You shift your focus to the icy hand still touching you and begin to channel what little you can of your vision without drawing your bow to warm her. You hope she doesn't notice it, not wanting her to find an ulterior motive in it.

"Then it is unavoidable."

You don't quite understand what she is saying until she removes her hand from you to place something on the table you shared.

Suspiciously, you eye the item as you wonder about the significance of abandoning it beyond the obvious, but you don't want to acknowledge that option. "You'll need your insignia if you wish to return." You needn't remind her of that, but it is a prompting statement.

Arlecchino shocks you with her next words.

"I'm remaining with you."

You stand in stunned silence for several seconds, replaying them over in your head. Remaining with you. She doesn't mean that, does she? This is another of her persuasion tactics, right? She cannot actually go through with this. "You're what?"

"I'm not going back to Snezhnaya."

That only confirms your fear, the chill of it rushing to the core of your being and lighting your nerves up with an icy cold. Maybe that's just the hand touching your cheek.

"You can't. You shouldn't. You should stay there."

She makes an odd face at you, half understanding of your plight and the other confused about why you care so much about what she does with her job. "In that place you curse yourself for leaving Capitano?"

"It's a comfortable position." You try to reason that way with her, pointing out the inarguable benefit.

"I don't care for comfort."

You scramble to find another reason, something else to make her give in and pick it back up. You have not gotten anything you attempted to get this night. Arlecchino didn't leave and is, in fact, intent on leaving the Fatui to continue that.

"I don't care to waste my time pandering to people who do not value what I provide for them, all the while relying on it."

That's not a reason you wish to say, but it is. It is a very real reason. You can see it in how the Fatui regards your circumstances that they have never found enough value in the mountain of work you took on. If they had, you wouldn't be having this conversation. She's right, you realise, she realised what you could not.

"Even if you do not allow it, I would be able to follow you." It's a strange thing to say, but maybe she was trying to convince you. Her arm falls back to her side.

You shake your head. "Humans tire."

"I won't be too slow."

It's different for her. Arlecchino doesn't hulk around a bulky suit of armour and a helmet to conceal her face. It is open and well-known. There will be places she can't ever travel to again. Her life will be this and nothing else, while yours will eventually become something else, as it was always supposed to. Even if you don't want to now, you will move on and find a new sense of self. She may never.

"There are grave consequences."

"I know."

"You may never know peace."

"I can live with that."

"You--"

--will question everything you have ever known. That was what you were about to say. You again come to a realisation that clears things for you. It's different. Arlecchino has not spent her whole life dedicated to serving the Tsaritsa, only a few years at best. You spent centuries. It is no wonder that she could give it all up so easily. Arlecchino only had one foot in the door in the first place.

The realisation dawning on you this way is daunting.

"...Fine. I will accept that." Though you thought you would struggle more, you also understand that it is useless to do so.

"A good choice."

The act of conceding can bring about a sense of relief and comfort. Conceding feels nice, in a way. It is a respite from constantly controlling everything to be exactly as you wish. It allows you the freedom of simply acknowledging the reality of a situation and accept that it may not align with your ideals, even if you don't necessarily like it.

You don't want Arlecchino to accompany you for her sake, but accepting that she will not share your fate of being humiliated can bring about a sense of peace. She will live however she pleases, and that means she may not want for the same future you received. Having a free will allows her to leave.

Slowly, you try to recover from the shock of the situation. As you take in a deep, quivering breath, you begin to steady yourself and attemt to process all that is unfolding.

A single question comes to your mind, a relatively simple one but significant enough to matter greatly.

"What is your name?"

CROSSPOSTED ON AO3

#♡ — kae.#✦ — scenarios.#✦ — angst.#arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x female reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x female reader #genshin x female reader

206 notes · View notes

thana-topsy · 9 months

Text

I’ve lost count of who all has tagged me in a WIP Wednesday post, so THANK YOU all my beautiful tesblr buddies. I was very busy yesterday, and today was hectic as well, so I’m rolling in late.

I’ll double whammy my wips and include some art and some writing. The brainrot continues, and I believe it to be terminal at this stage.

Urag with an undercut. Urag With An Undercut.

And here's a snippet from the fic I'm currently working on featuring these guys again some more:

---

“Thought I might find you up here.”

Enthir took another long drag from his cigarette, his eyes trained on the lights of Winterhold, winking like distant stars across the dark chasm that separated the city from the college. He exhaled, the wind snatching away the smoke as soon as it left his lips. “Were you looking for me?”

Urag leaned against the wall to his right, upwind. “It’d been a few days since I’d last seen you slinking around the grounds.”

“Business in town,” Enthir said by way of explanation. “Been staying at the Hearth.”

He saw Urag study his profile out of the corner of his eye, but Enthir didn’t look at him. “There’s more to it than that.”

Fuck you, old man, Enthir thought. He sighed and put the rolly out on the stone wall before flicking the butt over the side, watching it fall down into the darkness. “Got a visit from an old… friend.” He tongued the inside of his cheek. “Troubling news.”

“It never ends, does it?” Urag said with a sigh.

“Apparently not.” Enthir arched his back, stretching until his sternum popped. “I’ll tell you more. Inside, though. Not gonna freeze my nuts off over all this.”

Urag followed Enthir back to his cramped quarters in the Hall of Attainment. He wasted no time making himself at home in one of the chairs, toeing off his boots and propping his feet up on Enthir’s bed. Enthir paced around the room, organizing some of the bits and bobs he’d left lying around—shuffling papers into stacks, dropping loose jewelry into various boxes.

“I’ve long known the Guild has been going through hard times,” he started to explain. “Thanks to the near-endless business of our colleagues, I don’t have to rely on them as much as I used to. The new Arch-Mage had me nervous for a while there, but I think we’ve reached an understanding.”

“Wickwing is no Savos,” Urag agreed. “But she’d make an enemy of herself if she tried to push you out of the college. She’s smart enough not to mess around with the established order of things, so long as it’s good for the school.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Enthir muttered.

“Did you step away from the Guild when it started going downhill?”

Enthir paused, looking down at the book on the top of the stack in his hands: The Nightingales by Gallus Desidenius. “You know when I stepped away from the Guild. And why.”

Urag grunted, but said nothing else on the matter. “So why’s their business your business all of a sudden? Just wash your hands of them. You’re doing them a favor, the way I see it. A fence this far north?” He clicked his tongue in lieu of finishing his sentiment.

“That’s where this friend comes in.” He shoved the books one by one onto the shelf over his desk. “Karliah.”

“Karliah.” Urag repeated the name, as if thumbing through the dusty catalogs in his mind for the association attached to it. “Ah, right. Gallus’s woman.”

A needle of pain in Enthir’s chest made him wince. “Yep.”

“Didn’t she–?”

“Nope.”

Urag grunted again. “Well, that certainly shakes things up.”

#wip wednesday #topsy draws #topsy writes #enthir #urag gro shub #enthir/urag #skyrim fanfic #skyrim #elder scrolls #tesblr

120 notes · View notes

buttertrait · 1 month

Text

oc evolution tag

thank you @druidberries @ezra-trait @flovoid and anyone else who’s tagged me in this and i missed it (i know a few people have) and i apologise for it taking so long i was kinda scared to post these because my old sim style is very different

okay so, from left to right -> oldest to newest

unfortunately i don’t have the defaults i used on the very first version of elvene so she didn’t look exactly like this but yeah.

when i first made her she had literally none of the things i associate with elvene now. i think i just saw people making their dnd characters and i was like hm i wanna make my dnd character and literally just made the most basic character ever 😭

the second one was when i was first starting to develop my sim style, i decided i wanted to remake her to align more with the story i had for her in my head and honestly i used this version up until recently, however i decided she was too different from the rest of my sims and decided to update her! this is the version i’m sure most people will also recognise

and the third version is ofc the version you guys all know and love now! i think honestly she’s my favourite of the three and that might be because she’s in my current sim style, but i do feel like she just looks the most like elvene. like she looks exactly how i pictured her to look and honestly i just love her so much i could just spin her around in cas all day

i’m not going to tag anyone because i’m sure everyone has already done this by now and i’m extremely late to the party but yeah!

#i’m so nervous posting this bc my old sims were defo #very different #idk #sim: elvene sharp #tag game #butter’s thoughts

22 notes · View notes

horseimagebarn · 9 months

Text

welcome to the first weekly horseimagebarn interaction recap where every week i find the important tags reblogs and comments you lovely people have left for me to read and i respond to them in one fun post i will do this every friday to recap another week of horseimagebarn so get ready

if i were to make any other blog in the manner of the horseimagebarn it would likely be fish as i feel there is more variety in regards to fish and while i love new world monkeys and many of the old world variety there are certain types that really frighten and disconcert me and many pictures of monkeys you see in the modern day are actually apes which i have a distaste for though it is no fault of the apes and i do not blame them at all and still love them as creatures of this beautiful earth to put it simply i dont like their nipples and one time i saw one shit into its own hand and eat it right in front of me and it really gave me a fright however back to the fish subject i have gotten really into fishkeeping as of late and i thoroughly enjoy them and find it a most rewarding hobby to tend to a mini ecosystem in my own home and i love the practice dearly however i am dedicated to the continuation of this account for as long as possible and feel my interest in this blog is a one time thing that i must give myself to fully and if i were to make a fish blog it would be one for my personal fish and also i love you too though i do not know you personally i feel and appreciate your affections

this comment has given me much to think about as i am not he and this fellow as i have googled seems to be a politician and i do not prefer to associate myself with those types of folk especially those who participate in totalitarianism and fall off of their horses i am in fact a little hurt you would compare me to a rotten man such as this the further i look into it and i ask my audience to refrain from comparing me to such in the future

i agree with this commenter immensely i always post images after giving the origins of the image the benefit of the doubt as i want to believe every human treats animals with respect and care and i want to spread the message that animals are beautiful and intelligent and deserving of that respect and care using these images and i want to give these humans a level of trust that they are acting in the best interest of their animals and if it is discovered that they are not i will take proper action whatever that may be i have refrained from posting certain images due to these ideals before and i will continue in the future if it comes to it long story short please treat animals with respect and educate yourself on the best ways to do so and please know that i will never ever post an image in which i believe an animal is being hurt and if it comes to my attention that the animal is for certain being hurt i will remove it

thank you my friend i do indeed write poetry and have won one scholarship for it from my college in the past so i am happy that seems to permeate my life and the way i handle myself in general i have been thinking about submitting some of my writing to a literary magazine in my hometown recently and you have bolstered my confidence greatly i appreciate you

happy birthday my friend i hope you had a wonderful day

i love you dearly it is absolutely incredible to me that this account has gone from less than 100 followers to over 600 in less than a week i never thought that so many people would find joy in a blog i made as a silly side project to make myself and my girlfriend laugh every now and then but i am so happy we have gotten to this point

shoutout james

#thank you all for making my week i have been having a very hard time as of late #and this has been such a boost to my morale i love you all #horse #horses #horseimagebarn weekly recap

42 notes · View notes

imgoingtofreakoutnow · 9 months

Text

Jealous, much? (not me, never me)

Summary: During the recruitment for the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeepers Association monthly meeting, Crowley catches the eye of someone. Aziraphale doesn't like that...

A/n: this is a very chill fic inspired by a prompt by our amazing @here-there-everyfuckenwhere also known as Ray. I hope you like it <3

Tags: @lavender-scented-soft-softgirl @yellownavystar (spero che non vi dispiaccia se vi ho taggato. In caso contrario, ignorate pure il post ahahah <3)

\_/

The recruitment for the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeepers Association monthly meeting was going strangely smoothly.

He was halfway through the list and Aziraphale had managed to only give away three priceless books. He checked once again the list, tapping the fountain pen on his lower lip.

"Very well," he said, crossing over the previous shop name. "The next stop is Emma's grocery store but I do believe it will be a very easy and quick-"

He raised his head and stopped mid-sentence when his gaze couldn't find Crowley anywhere near him.

After looking around for a bit, he finally spotted him and his scarlet hair... talking to someone else across the street.

To be more precise, the someone else was talking to him while Crowley was simply looking and tapping something on his phone. The things however seemed to be related, given that the stranger kept poiting at the screen and leaning in to show him something and Crowley nodded, a crease of concentration separating his eyebrows.

They were standing side by side, their shoulders casually touching. Aziraphale frowned at that: it seemed quite improper to him, they didn't even know each other! Or at least, that's what he gathered since he had never seen that person around before.

Yet Crowley didn't seem to care about it, nor he looked at all fazed when the attractive human at his side deliberately touched his arm and "accidentaly" brushed their fingers on his.

Aziraphale felt something building inside of him. He couldn't quite tell what it was, but it left a sour taste in his mouth, as if his insides had started burning with the fires of Hell.

He straightened up and fixed his worn-out waistcoat before putting a smile on —one that, he could feel it, wasn't entirely on the wavelength as the mix of emotions he was feeling inside— and heading towards the two of them.

He cleared his voice when he was closer, receiving a confused look by Crowley's new acquaintance.

Now that he was closer, Aziraphale realised that they weren't as young as they seemed from the opposite side of the road, but their pleasant features were hard to ignore. They almost seemed sculpted by Michelangelo.

"Hello, is everything alright here?"

Crowley's face immediately shot up when he heard him, moving away from the wall he was leaning against to get to Aziraphale's side.

"Angel, did you know you could order food through your phone and then have it delivered to your door?"

"I had no idea."

Even though the mere idea did stir his stomach to more pleasant feelings, Aziraphale barely glanced at the screen Crowley was still looking at and kept all of his attention on the new smiling face in front of him.

"It's a pretty common thing to do nowadays," they explained with a shrug. "I'm really surprised you and your partner both didn't know about it."

"He's not my..." Aziraphale started at the same time as Crowley quickly muttered: "We're friends."

"Oh." Their face seemed to suddenly lit up, making the angel's visibly frown, as they tentatively turned their gaze back to Crowley. "Then perhaps I could give you my number?"

"I think you seem a bit lost, child." With the corners of his lips pulled painfully upwards and annoyance in his eyes, Aziraphale moved quickly his hand in the air. "You should head back home."

The stranger widened their eyes before quickly checking the time on their phone and then excusing themselves as they quickly walked down the street.

As he saw them disappear into the wave of the crowd, the relief that washed over him was much bigger then the little guilt whispering in the back of his mind. The knot in Aziraphale's stomach disappeared, as if it had never been there in the first place.

"Did you really miracle 'em away, angel?"

As he looked at Crowley, whose sunglasses had slid down his nose, enough for his yellow eyes to poke through, the angel felt another knot forming in his chest. A warmer one, a pleasant one.

"I'm sure they had other things to do anyway. I just..." Aziraphale moved his hands in the air, "pushed them in the right direction."

Crowley raised his eyebrows but didn't question him more on that. He pushed his sunglasses back on his eyes, keeping once again Aziraphale from that beautiful sight.

"Right. At least they finished explaining to me how this thing works."

Aziraphale smiled, and this time his eyes wrinkled in joy.

"Why don't you explain it to me while we walk to the grocery store," he offered as he placed a hand on Crowley's back, gently guiding him in the right direction before letting his hand fall back to his side.

Aziraphale didn't notice how Crowley tensed under his touch, nor how his Adam's apple moved as he gulped down the breath stuck in his throat.

As always, he never noticed.

#ineffable husbands #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #aziraphale x crowley #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens 2 spoilers #ineffable husbands fic #annie writes

45 notes · View notes

whatsyaname · 4 months

Text

Hi.

I can't reveal who i am but i used to be a ex moot of tee (@/saetoru) and i don’t care if this seems cowardly to make a page just to call her out. after seeing lots of people share their experiences with tee i’d like to also add and show some of the stuff she’s done to remind people she’s not as angelic as she makes herself out to be.

me and tee weren’t close as she was with her little clique (they know who they are) and other people but the main reason we aren’t moots anymore is because i broke the mutual. after seeing a callout post about her way back in oct. 2023 with other people’s stories in the thread of reblogs / link (i’m sure you guys saw)

i simply didn’t wanna be associated with someone like that. i was just confused why tee was acting like it wasn’t her fault. she said she doesn’t have to provide proof because she doesn’t owe anyone anything when that doesn’t make sense. because if you’re gonna accuse someone, always provide proof otherwise it’s safe to assume you’re lying.

this was Tee’s response back in october to her being called out by one of her old moots also, she deleted this a few days before she returned to make it seem like nothing happened but oh it did. i’m putting this here for people to see again (if you already haven’t) because just look at this.

this is what a narcissistic manipulator sounds like!

the biggest thing that made me scratch my head was for her to immediately bring up past drama to redirect the situation and make herself seem like the good person, and address the other party as a “white girl who blackfishes,” and she tried taking the attention off her to bring up palestine.

are you serious? if she so called “blackfished” why were you supporting/defending her in the first place? shouldn’t you be in the wrong too? the party she was talking about didn’t even blackfish, from what i can recall it was a simple tan so again, this was Tee reaching and blowing things way out of proportion.

she keeps mentioning some random bnha blog but never gives the @ so she’s probably lying. how are you gonna accuse someone of plagiarism then your only evidence is “oh me and my moots saw the whole thing, so you know i’m not lying.” girl bffr. and for her to even say something as childish and stupid as “she’s stolen ppl’s skin tones and she’s stolen their ideas. not much to left to take besides your identity at that!”

you and i both read that right? this is a supposed 20+ year old, saying something as kiddish as that. she even exposed the persons @ in the tags and why did she do that? so she can make her thousands of followers / anons spam their inbox with threats, derogatory names, and literally anything else. and she has the nerve to say she’s not enabling that kind of behavior with her audience. she’s abusing her following and it’s showing.

and for her to sit there and say it’s not her fault for being in her own space and name dropping people without actually name dropping them is just absurd. subposting is the lowest of the low. If you’re gonna talk shit at least put the url while you’re at it. people can tell who you’re talking about even if you’re being discrete.

She has a private blog called @/clorindes where she uses it to "vent" and bash writers and laugh it off with her moots and even followers.

i know of this particular blog because like many others, if you followed tee that blog (her private) would appear in ‘blogs like…’ or ‘recommended to follow.’ after tee got called out, she privated it but it’s still up.

(i recommend blocking that blog) because i’m sure she’ll activate it again once things settle. i hope that’s not the case because how many drama, discourse posts, call outs does it take for her to fully leave this platform? this is chronically online mentality at its finest.

it’s been an ongoing rumor that tee has this tumblr 'burn book' to blacklist writers on this platform and it’s proven to be true. some of tees even own mutuals are in there, and its just embarrassing. you have to constantly remind yourself this is a 20+ y/o person acting like this, out of all platforms, tumblr…

i remember a while back tee drove off a few blogs just for having the same theme concepts as her. (is that even a thing?) like tee used to have instagram themes i think, yet when she found other blogs having the same, she’d send her thousands of anons to harass that person, and be so butthurt over a theme.

not gonna lie, her themes are generically basic and doesn’t even look like it takes much effort. so what is there to copy. i’m not saying copying themes are good and okay, but she takes things too far. i can see if it’s writing, but a theme or a layout? i just find it so mind boggling people stick by her side and support her still.

from her old blog she’d always say sneaky comments like these and laugh it up with her mutuals in the comments. it’s really…something, because why do you care what those writers do? she reeks of jealousy and envy, literally look at her tone.

“we all know yall just want the notes and numbers.” um, yeah? everyone wants recognition on their work, it feels good to know your works being appreciated. and her jab at shading writers who write half paragraphs was so unnecessary. because again, why do you care? how are those writers hyping each other up seen as ‘shady’ or ‘fishy’ behavior? just say you’re jealous and go.

she acts like she doesn’t do the exact same thing with her cult of friends on tumblr, spamming the tags with wtv.

miss tee, flat out you’re a nobody.

you have no right to judge how someone write. who cares if you have 30k+ followers on this old ass site. congrats ….i guess? in the real world, you’re just a miserable person who likes torturing people online.

she has this thing of coming after upcoming big blogs, if i’m not mistaken, the most recent one was a known jjk writer, kazu _____ another was a popular multi account munson____, and there were multiple others i’m sure. her following count boosts her ego a lot, that i can see. and she thinks it’s okay to say whatever and not get held accountable. well now she is.

notice how she came back to tumblr after a two month hiatus, turned anons on then back off. and shes been inactive for a few days. she’s running away from the drama because she knows exactly it’s no one’s fault but hers.

if you look through the long thread i linked earlier, actually read through the reblogs. if multiple various ppl are coming out to share their experiences (with receipts) chances are you should be able to tell who’s lying! she needs to be stopped and ran off the app, not those blogs who didn’t do anything. tee’s been involved with drama for a long time like i said before, way back in her tokyo rev/hq era in her @/hanmas era. so about three to four years ago.

it’s been said tee and her mutuals send anons to harass other writers and i wouldn’t be surprised if that’s true.

again, it’s a shame you have to remind yourself this is a grown woman in her twenties acting like this on tumblr. it’s sickening and she needs to grow up, and get the hell off this platform before she drives anyone else off.

thats all! thank you for reading

#saetoru #Hope she sees this too.#stop supporting her #her moots and followers who ignore her are JUST as bad as her #she’s been in drama since 2021 (her tokrev era)#get a grip this is tumblr dot com #She needs a reality check and it should have been her ran off the app instead of those innocent blogs #to people who lost their blogs to her I’m so sorry #I hope you all are at peace.

12 notes · View notes

blackaquokat · 9 days

Text

RULES: post 5 songs associated with your oc, followed by 3 outfits they would wear

@again-please posted this game and I REALLY love it, so I will be doing it for a few OCs down the line, but for now, I'm doing it for my FINALLY NAMED tiefling monk and astarionmancer from Baldur's Gate 3:

Meet Maris Atwater!

Lizzie No – Hard Won

I came up like a paper daughter / Fallen with the afterthought / And the tender mercy that I was after came hard won

2. Florence + the Machine – Drumming Song

I run to the river and dive straight in / I pray that the water will drown out the din / But as the water fills my mouth / It couldn't wash the echoes out

3. Of Monsters and Men – Organs

I am tired of punching in the wind / I am tired of letting it all in / And I should eat you up and spit you right out / I should not care but I don't know how

4. The Crane Wives – Margaret

She won't lie down / Won't hesitate / She's breaking her knuckles on truths that keep her awake / And she's tired / But her jaw is set / She won't lose anymore of the heart she still has left

5. AURORA – Your Blood

When all inside you burns like a star / It's after you burn out that you are / Reborn again, reborn again / And maybe if you called out for help / Then I could help you outrun yourself

BONUS SONG: Another Florence + the Machine tune! This is what I imagine Maris’s theme song to be.

6. Florence + the Machine – Various Storms & Saints

Don't make the mountain your enemy / Get out, get up there instead / You saw the stars out in front of you / Too tempting not to touch / But even though it shocked you / Something's electric in your blood

As for the outfits, I imagine Maris to very much be a beach girl, specifically surfer kind of fashion. Grunge-ish surfer. Not posting too many outfits because they run kind of similarly (pants she can move in and crop tops also for movement and because she runs warm), and because I honestly don't know what her formal style would be.

If anyone would like to hear more about her, let me know!

If anyone else wants to play, consider yourselves tagged!

#kat rants #kat's ocs #bg3 #bg3 tav #maris atwater #tavstarion #astarion #astarion ancunin

6 notes · View notes

faith--in-the-future · 1 year

Note

your tags here…yk this is something i’ve been thinking about as well, how louis’ songs often seem to be like they’re written from female perspective and i’ve always found it really interesting also louis talked about something similar as well…it’s probably down to him being around women all his life but also it truly does seem like some of his songs at least are written about a guy and add to it the fact some his songs having queer themes as well…makes you think huh ✍🏻

also i found it really interesting as well when this reactor said that she never was able to connect to male artist before louis because she’s “female identifying person” (9:47-10:10) and i was like…whoa

I'm too much of a girl 😭😭 oh baby louis u were so sweet and innocent shsh

but yeah totally! and I care to make the distinction here that when I say sometimes his lyrics feel like they're written by a woman I mean that bc generally and stereotypically we're used to hearing this kind of feelings/perspective from women, in particular women writing about men, not bc there's an inherent "womanly" or "mainly" way to write, obviously there aren't and probably in the future the 2 will mix more thanks to more musicians like louis but yeah if u look at the popular songs we've always listened to its much more common to find the themes of not being loved enough, begging for someone's love, saying that for long everything u did was for the other person, losing yourself in a toxic relationship, only becoming who you are now after that person left you (ex: "the day you left me was just my beginning" etc) have usually been brought on by women more than by men. also the way he talks about the flaws of the other person (they don't want to share their feelings with him, they try to act like they never feel any pain, they get lost in their pride and become ugly and unkind) are usually things we associate more with men + he differs from most straight male musicians bc he never sexualizes women in any part of his art

obviously nothing is for certain and I'm not trying to prove anything, the only thing that this proves is that louis is a very interesting and innovative songwriter that doesn't follow the usual stereotypes assigned to his gender and I'm sure that's also why he's able to connect with so many women (also could be one of the reasons why he's not taken very seriously in the indie Boys scenes ?? too soft? idk)

also from the post u linked I saw this

baby louis predicted the soft boy era... he was always ahead of his time 😌

#ask #anon

60 notes · View notes

nothorses · 2 years

Note

hey uh random question about a post i saw earlier- asking you this because you're more or less a reputable source but uh are trans mra an actual thing or closer to hyperbole. what I'm trying to say is i saw a post (by someone i won't reveal now because i don't wanna start shit up but i could tell you in another ask if you wanted to) that compared a post on discrimination men face in their daily lives (trans men weren't specified but op's url left no doubt about that) to MRA and was also tagged "#transandrodorks" so uh yeah !

asking cause i wanna hear both sides on this issue and all. the person who made that post has made more than a few iffy statements about trans men so yeah. my current stance is that transandrophobia is helpful in describing the specific oppression transmascs face, such as hard-to-access reproductive care

have a good time of day

If there are actual "trans MRAs", I haven't met them. I have, however, definitely been accused of being one!

A short list of things people have accused me of being a "trans MRA" for:

Saying male privilege was not designed to include trans men, and if it can, it excludes us.

Saying trans men, as a class, do not posses privilege on the basis of being trans men.

Saying trans men have higher rates of lifetime sexual assault and suicide than trans women do (a real statistic repeated across several individual studies) though trans women have higher rates of other forms of violence and marginalization.

Saying trans men experience discrimination that is unique to trans men.

Talking about Baeddels, just like, in general.

Using the word "transandrophobia".

Saying testosterone does not turn people into horrible monsters.

Talking about Joan of Arc's relationship to masculinity and the possibility of transness.

Defending trans women and discussing transmisogyny as a real issue that must be dealt with.

Some of it's been from transfemmes, and some of it's been from TERFs, but the vast majority of the people who have said this have been cis women.

That's not to say there aren't transmascs who make shitty arguments or say and do shitty things- aside from the fact that that's just true of any group, in general, I have also seen transmascs who get misogynistic or transmisogynystic in their arguments for the existence of transandrophobia.

But this isn't unique to us, either. Baeddelism is an entire movement built around transfems getting horribly transphobia toward both trans men and nonbinary people as a whole in their arguments for the existence of transmisogyny. Does that mean it doesn't exist? Does that mean all transfems who believe in transmisogyny are like this?

Obviously not.

There are always going to be people who take these things too far, who use real issues and useful concepts as bludgeons against groups that should be- and are- our allies.

We need to make it clear we don't condone that and we don't want to be associated with that, but we also can't be held responsible for that as an entire demographic. It's unfair to associate us with it anyway, despite the work we do to make our separation clear.

And I'd be super suspicious of anyone trying to discredit the concept of an entire marginalized group experiencing unique marginalization just because some of the voices in there might be, or are, using that concept the wrong way. Transmascs shouldn't have to be a flawless group of perfect individuals in order for any of us to be believed when we talk about our lived experiences.

#transandrophobia #transmasc

252 notes · View notes

andreafmn · 11 months

Text

I'm Not Afraid | Chapter 11

Word Count: 3K Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack, as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined. Chapter: 11/? A/N: Somehow manage to cough out 3k words with a migraine flare-up, so hope you enjoy it 💖 My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing or buy me a coffee TikTok • Instagram • Business | MASTERLIST If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

<- Previous | Next ->

Chapter 11

Friday couldn't come any quicker. Sure, they were going to an underground rave to catch a murderous reptile and the murderer that was controlling him, but it was an underground rave, nonetheless.

It was no surprise that (Y/N) had never gone to a party before. Being a social pariah at every school she had been to, there had been a lack of invitations for her. So, the fact that she would be going to one and that they were so close to trapping the biggest threat to Beacon Hills in one night had the girl's veins buzzing with excitement.

If she had gotten more than three hours to sleep that night, it would have been too much. Having woken up at six in the morning to take Brody out for a run, she knew the crash would be inevitable later that day. But how could she sleep? The party and the Kanima weren't the only things running through her mind.

Derek had not left her thoughts for a second. She could feel the warmth of his hands on her skin, she could smell his cologne, she could hear his breath right next to her ear, and she could almost, almost, feel his lips on hers. The night before they had been so close to finally sharing a kiss. If Isaac had spent even two more seconds inside, they sure would have been caught mid-kiss.

But he didn't. He exited the loft at just the right time to startle them apart, making them wait that much longer to give in. Even if all she wanted was to throw caution to the wind and give in. She wanted him more than she thought she could want anyone else.

After coming back home, (Y/N) hurried to school. She thought the more she rushed the faster night would come. Sitting still on her bike was almost impossible as the anxious thrill of what came after school rushed through her. All she wanted was to get through her classes and get to the rave.

As she entered the school, making a beeline for her locker, she ended up crashing into someone, her bag flying through the air and spilling its contents all over the hall. Just by the force of the body she bumped into, she had an idea of who it could be.

“Where are you hurrying to, Scott?” (Y/N) called out as she started to gather her things.

“Oh, sorry, (Y/N),” he gave her an apologetic smile. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“You okay?” she said as her eyes finally fell on his face. “You look kinda bummed out, not gonna lie.”

“It’s nothing,” he sighed. “I just saw Allison and she got weird there at the end. She said it was nothing, but I don’t know.”

(Y/N) was the first to stand up, taking the books Scott had gathered from his hands. “What were you guys talking about?” she asked. “Was it about tonight?”

“More or less. But it’s more about what I told you about her mom,” he shrugged. “I told her that it would be good for her parents to see us with other people, so they think we are broken up. And she was fine with it at first, but she got weird after.”

“Please tell me she didn’t mention me,” the girl groaned.

“Why would she?”

“So I guess she hasn’t told you.” She sighed before she continued, feeling like a gossip as she relayed the information. “You know how I told you she was acting off? Well, we had an interesting conversation regarding all that. She basically accused me of trying to take you from her.”

“Take me?” Scott questioned. “Take me where?”

The Argent girl couldn’t help the laugh that overtook her as the poor oblivious boy tried to make sense of what she had said. His expression could only be explained as a lost puppy dog. They had been walking to Chemistry class and he’d stopped dead in his tracks at the statement. “She thinks I’m trying to make you my boyfriend,” she explained. “She claimed that everything came easy to me and that I already had a lot. And on top of that, I was trying to steal you away.”

“But where would she get that idea? I mean, sure we’re friendly but I don’t think either of us has been anything but.”

“I don’t know and honestly, it’s her shit to get over,” (Y/N) brushed off. “I made it more than clear to her that there was nothing between us. If she still wants to be pissed at me about it, then she can stay mad.”

“I’ll talk to her,” he offered. “You should also know that your family knows that there are essentially two killers.”

“She told them everything, didn't she?”

“Sort of. But that's a good thing. The more people there are to take them down, the better.”

“Sure, if those people weren't Argents and Gerard wasn't here.”

“So, it's a bad thing?”

“Let's just say that if they get involved, there might be one or two students that won't come to school tomorrow.”

“Ms. Argent, Mr. McCall!” Mr. Harriss called their attention. “If it's not something you want to share with the class, I suggest you keep it quiet.”

“Sorry, Mr. Harris,” the pair mumbled before they sank into their seats and placed their attention on the board.

The rest of the day went by in a flash. As the time got closer, the more (Y/N) could feel the nerves creeping up her neck. Long gone was the excitement, instead replaced by a chilling sense of dread that she couldn’t seem to shake. Something in the back of her mind told her that tonight would most likely end in a tragedy. For whom, she wasn't sure. But she could feel the inevitability of a loss.

As soon as the last bell rang, she gathered her things, ready to go back home and change. She had to pick up Isaac and Erica before the rave, much to her detriment. She was fine with Isaac. But something about the blonde was less than digestible for her. Maybe it was her personality, but her subconscious knew it was because of Derek. To that day, she couldn't shake the image of them in his car. And she hated that it made her question how okay she would be if he decided he couldn't wait any longer.

“What the hell?” Her phone ringing in her pocket broke her out of thought as she was getting on her bike. “Uncle Chris?”

“Hey, (Y/N), by chance did Allison talk to you today?”

“Not really,” she answered, biting her tongue to not spill that they had yet to speak in two days. “What's wrong?”

“We're gonna need you to meet us at home. We’ve got a meeting about tonight.”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

“We'll see you here, okay?”

“Yeah. See you.”

(Y/N) was quick to text Isaac the change of plans, the surprise shared between them. She told him that it was more than likely they would be planning an attack at the rave that night, and that every single member of Derek’s pack needed to be on high alert from the Argents. If they did go, they would be going for blood.

As serious as the moment was, the blond boy couldn't help but throw a joke into the mix, asking her if she wanted the whole pack to be safe or if she wanted to make sure that Derek was safe. It made her face change into a million shades of red, regretting the fact that Isaac knew such a vulnerable piece of information.

Instead of dwelling on the message, (Y/N) sped to her uncle's house, bracing herself to meet with revenge-blind hunters that wanted to take down the Kanima and anything that got in their way. But she wasn't sure if she wasn't prepared for those tens of men or finally seeing her cousin after two days.

She knew she had been harsh, but she did not regret a single word she had said. Allison had formulated an image of her in her mind that was nowhere near what reality was, and it made her question if she could trust her with other aspects of her life. Could she tell her about Derek? Could she tell her about what her dad had told her? Could she trust that if she confessed that she wanted the family business to change that Allison would keep it to herself?

They were questions she would have to wait to answer.

Her uncle's house came into view, the driveway filled with tinted black SUVs. If she hadn't known there were meant to be people there, she would have been awfully intimidated, and most likely would have kept driving. But she fought the desire to escape and clothed herself in confidence, walking into the home like she belonged there.

She nodded to a couple of people she knew, following the trail of people into the basement where Allison, Chris, and Gerard were waiting. The girl made a beeline for her family, ignoring her cousin's intense gaze. If (Y/N) had been questioning if Allison was still angry at her, she had gotten her answer.

“(Y/N), can I speak to you over here?” Chris asked her as she got closer, motioning to an empty corner. (Y/N) followed her uncle, thankful that she didn't have to face her cousin or her grandfather just yet. “I know you've been kind of out of the loop since your dad has been away, so I don’t want you to feel ambushed. Allison told me everything that's been going on and I'd like to think that if you knew more information about all of this that you would tell us about it.”

“Of course, I would," she smiled sweetly. “I would do anything for our family's cause. But I just don't know what to look out for. Mom and Dad have been away a lot and I haven't had much training in all of this.”

“Maybe I can talk to Victoria,” he said. “She could help you and Allison with what it means to lead the hunters. One day it will be up to you two and it's best you're prepared.”

A shiver traveled up (Y/N)'s spine as she thought about spending time with her aunt and being taught what it was like to be a female hunter. The woman had always unnerved her and the last thing she wanted was to be in close confines with her. “That would be great,” she said instead. “Maybe once mom comes back we can all meet up.”

“Alright sounds good, (Y/N),” he smiled. “Now, get in line. Meeting's starting.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

She had to bite back a smirk. Her uncle had eaten up her oblivious and unknowledgeable façade, allowing her to fly under the radar. If that was the role she had to play, then she would damn well give an Oscar-worthy performance.

(Y/N) watched as Allison took a seat on the wooden stairs, choosing to stand as far from her as possible. Her cousin wasn't talking to her, and she was planning on doing the same. She could already hear her father's words, begging her to take the high road. But she didn't want to be the bigger person, she wanted her to apologize.

“All right,” Chris called for everyone's attention. “The party's in a warehouse just inside the industrial sector. Allison has learned that Jackson Whittemore will be there seeking his next target out of the crowd. Since we still have no clue as to just how strong he is, we need to be extremely cautious.”

As (Y/N) listened to her uncle speak, her attention was drawn to a soft rattling sound. Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) noticed her grandfather swallowing two pills. The last thing she had heard, Gerard, was of sound mind and health. Pills didn't feel like something that fit his persona. Without even knowing, she had engrained the fact into her mind. If there's one thing she knew, no detail was too small. At some point, it could become necessary information.

“When Allison had Jackson's location and has determined him to be at the optimal point where we can take him down, she'll signal me,” Chris continued, his eyes falling on his daughter. “Optimal meaning as far from the crowd as possible. If she cannot, (Y/N), I take you will make sure to do so. There will be no collateral damage tonight. You two, go ahead.”

The man motioned his head toward the two of them, waiting for the teens to disappear before any of them talked. (Y/N) followed behind her cousin begrudgingly, drowning in the unnerving energy that was shared between the two family members.

“Okay, this is stupid,” (Y/N) finally spoke, grabbing Allison's elbow to turn her around. “You cannot still be mad at me for something that you made up completely in your head?”

“In my head? My dad doesn't even believe I can do one job without screwing up,” she seethed. “You didn't have to be here. I could have done this by myself.”

“Come on, Ali. I'm basically your understudy here,” (Y/N) finally confessed, tears stinging the back of her eyes “I only have friends because you introduced me to them. The only reason Scott and I have gotten close is because he's a good friend. And tonight, the only way I get to do anything is if you fail. And that is a huge if. So, instead of blaming me for whatever it is that you are feeling, try and focus on why you're feeling it.”

“(Y/N)...”

“Whatever, Allison,” she shrugged her off. “And be careful. I'm pretty sure you'll be leading Jackson right into Gerard's trap.”

As soon as (Y/N) was outside, she fumbled in her pocket for her phone, dialing the number of the person that should have been the most aware of her family's plan. A pang of guilt bubbled in her gut as the thought that she was betraying her family. But there was a part of her that knew that what she wanted to do could not just save one life, but it could potentially save the lives of all her friends.

“(Y/N)? Is everything okay?”

“Listen, Derek, my family is gonna be there tonight,” she breathed. “They say they're only gonna be there to trap Jackson before he gets to his next victim. But something tells me they're there to kill him, whoever's controlling him, and anyone that gets in their way.”

“How did they find out that it was Jackson or that there were two killers?”

“Allison told her dad,” she said. “But she didn't have another choice, and I get that. But I need to make sure you and everyone else are safe. So, you might have to change certain strategies.”

“You're aware that the majority of us are werewolves?” Derek laughed on the phone. “The one that should be worried, should be me.”

“I've been training for something like this my whole life,” she smirked. “And technically, I’m the one who can get closest to Jackson. He can't paralyze me.”

“But he can do a lot worse,” he said. “And I won't let that happen. All you have to do is keep a lookout. Isaac and Erica will get him.”

“I am more than capable of doing this.”

“(Y/N). You can not get close to him,” he commanded angrily. “You're inexperienced and you could get in the way. I don't want you to get close to Jackson, and that's an order.”

“Thankfully, I don't take orders from you, Derek,” she scoffed. “Anyways, watch out for Argent hunters. They might have you on their target list.”

“(Y/N)....”

“Goodbye.”

(Y/N) knew that Derek meant well but all she could do was feel betrayed. The one person she thought would have believed in her the most had made her feel weak and incompetent. Even if it was her first time taking a threat this big on, she had been confident that she was an asset to the pack. But he had made her feel otherwise.

But that only made her more determined. (Y/N) would prove to Derek and to her family just how good of an advantage she was. She would prove it to herself.

***

Derek couldn't believe what he'd said. All he wanted was to make sure that (Y/N) was safe, make sure that she was nowhere near where she could be hurt. It had been a long time since he had cared so deeply about someone else, and he despised the fact that he'd started to do so when so much was happening in the town. She had been kind enough to warn them about her family. Going behind their back to make sure he and the pack were safe. And instead of being thankful, he chastised her and made her feel small.

“So, are we going already?” Erica snipped at the alpha. “Or do we have to wait until you're done gushing over the new girl?”

“I'd watch my mouth if I were you, Erica,” he seethed. “One more word and you can stay here tonight.”

“And miss out on all of this? Not a chance,” she groaned. “Fine, not another word.”

“I don't want any mistakes tonight,” Derek directed himself to the group of teenagers before him. “I was just informed that the Argents will be there. You cannot let them see you or what you are. They are not going there to trap Jackson. They will be there to kill him.”

“Or us,” Isaac added, a flash of fear crossing through his face. “Is it safe for us then?”

“It will be,” he reassured. “As long as everyone sticks to the plan. Now, let's go. We cannot waste more time.”

Derek needed that night to go without a hitch. That way he could think of ways to dig himself out of the hole he’d created with (Y/N). Because the last person he wanted to have hate him was her.

Next ->

Tag List: @hellowinterlane @lokisgoddesofpower @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @malar-region @sunshine-flower@lilstanxd @sunsetcurvej @malar-region @heyitsaloy @blackbluerose666 @bellabadacadabra @winter-soldier-101 @zheezs14 @sunsetcurvej @mushroomelephant @she–walks–in–moonlight @Gracelynn318 @skyesthebomb @esposadomd @blueshoelaces @then-worship-at-my-altar @six-call @yuki254 @honeylovemoon @Beckiej0073-blog @baebeepeach @cecehensonn @catgirlpwr @magimtz23 @perle-noir @adaydreamaway08 @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel @thatgirljayy @sugasthreedollarkookie @laylaskywalker @fandomonetwo @fruitylilfuck @haroldpotterson @gangstalicious06 @elijahssuit @ellabellabus07 @scarletdfox @halleest @sunflowerleii @shara-ne @nngkay @mar @saltedcoffeescotch @thecollectorofwords @gabi-princesada1d @zealouscookierebeltrash @sleepilysworld @laylasbunbunny @treatiseofselena @american-staness @cevans-winchester @brittany-appleyard24 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ivory-raptor @euphoria1992 @mrknightsgirl @hopexargent @druigsluver29 @Fresita1218 @sunsetmaverick @rebelbagel @mrknightsgirl @missfunsize @shara-ne

33 notes · View notes