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throwaway-yandere · 1 year

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Apotheosis Upon Your First Feast (Yandere!Wanderer & Pantalone/Reader)

Commissioned by: @leftdestiny-posts/@eternally-frozen (ilysm. Feel free to kill me later lmao)

unreliable synopsis: After being reassigned to Vanarana when your previous coworker became the Acting Grand Sage, with the help of Ararycan, you reunited met a wanderer on an abandoned machine. Unfortunately for someone, your childhood friend "Pantalone" has ears and eyes everywhere. (Avoid this fic if you’re not a fan of dark content. It’s not too dark but your mental health matters!)

IMPORTANT NOTE: Please use the InteractiveFics extension and change “(Y/n)” to whatever name you want, “[Wanderer]” to his chosen name, and lastly, also change “(wood/salt)” to… whichever option you feel like. It’s a surprise mechanic *wink*. If you're reading this on a phone, just pick between wood or salt right now, keep your choice in mind and commit to it : )

Afterwards, would you be so kind as to answer this fun poll after reading the fic? Danke ♡

“Why doesn't Nara (Y/n) eat what Arasaka prepares for them? Does Nara (Y/n) lack appetite lately?”

“O-Oh, well, that’s…” You paused, looking down at the broth, “in all honesty, your cooking tastes bland…”

“H-Huh?!”

Time had passed since Lesser Lord Kusanali's official ascent to power and now is the fifth month since you first made friends with the Aranaras. Many events took place before you found your pyro vision becoming Arasaka's torch as they cooked– and if any of your coworkers saw you now, they probably wouldn’t identify you as Alhaitham’s (only) friend and Ex-Sage Azar’s lazy employee.

Maybe they would've if you helped Alhaitham and his teammates secure Sumeru’s future.

Sure, your name isn’t listed in the coup d’etat, but that’s only because you wished for the Akademiyan scholars to make the epiphany for themselves. As Azar’s ex-assistant, you laid low from projects as a prerequisite so that the populace may acquire a personality of their own to make the nation truly deserving of the title “Land of Wisdom.”

Alas, that did not happen.

Alhaitham’s tactics were not wrong, but you felt like his group spoonfed Sumeru citizens with the Fatui’s crimes rather than having their own realizations. It did not feel like growth to you. It felt like the people casually learned from a one-sitting textbook rather than a hands-on experiment when they should’ve personally learned how minacious blind ambitions could be. In turn, he argued that your ideas were barbaric and that scholars revolting was not in the realm of possibility– hence, you did not lend your aid. Perhaps your inaction had pissed him off, but it’s more likely that he finds that sending you to Varanara was ideal for his workload.

And in some strange domino effect, refraining from helping a coup d’etat meant eating the tasteless food known to man.

Since you were personally assigned a senseless task to patrol and report weather patterns in the area (which is unnecessary and quite frankly boring), you had befriended the infamous aranaras children from Port Ormos hear stories about.

But the mundanity doesn’t hurt your pride as a graduate scholar. It's been fun so far.

“I'm sorry, 'Saka, it's just that I think your food lacks a bit of salt–"

"ASSISTANT (Y/N), THERE YOU ARE!!!"

Both of you flinched, causing Arasaka to topple over. The sound hurts. You snapped your neck towards the sound. An adventurer– Baharak– stood with both hands wrapped on her bag's shoulder straps with a silly grin on her face.

… You’re turning the setting of your hearing aids down.

“Baharak, it’s been a while,” you spoke. “Would you mind not yelling whenever you call for me?”

“Oops– Sorry (Y/n)! I mean– sorry, Assistant (Y/n).”

Changing her volume doesn’t undo the pain she inflicted on your ears. Gently, you pushed Arasaka behind an elevated jag of root to cover them. To escape suspicion, you continued to stare at Baharak while feigning sleepiness.

“What are you here for?”

“The Forest Watcher received a letter addressed to you. The sender doesn’t have a name again, it just has the coin-seal thing.”

“Please hand it over.”

“Aight!– I mean, alright.”

After dismissing the loud adventurer and giving her spare mora as thanks, you waited until she was out of sight. Arasaka suddenly rose and jumped onto your lap, equally curious about what was written on the salt-scented parchment. Arasaka's preppy manner soon turned sour as they discovered who the sender was.

It’s a letter from your best friend, "Pantalone".

“Aww…” Arasaka whined. “Arasaka was hoping it was the Verdant Nara instead.”

You tore it open.

"My dearest, (Y/n),

If it's not too much to ask, may I trouble you to visit my office in Northland Bank soon? I merely wish to see you. Spending Lantern Rite alone this year was not a pleasant experience. It's just for a mere chat- I'll reimburse your traveling and dining expenses. Care to make it up to me?

Your beloved,

As per tradition, you threw the letter in the fireplace. Pantalone doesn’t like leaving a trail of evidence, naturally, you assumed the same applies here.

It's never a chore to visit a friend. Maybe you'll head there tomorrow–

“Arasaka doesn’t like Nara Pantalone.”

The aranara lowered their head, continuing, “Nara Pantalone reminds Arasaka of the Taste of Sadness.”

Cute.

Every time Pantalone comes to visit, the aranaras behave like envious little siblings. Ever since you started patrolling Vanarana, the place had become the harbinger’s premiere leisure destination. The woods critters frequently tried to undermine his gifts, but they were adorably ineffective. Even if Pantalone cannot see them, the situation is nonetheless amusing.

If you remember correctly, the Taste of Sadness means salt to aranaras, right?

“Ah, well,” you laughed. “I guess you must be incredibly sensitive to his smell. He took quite a liking to salt-infused perfumes last year.”

“Don’t like perfume.”

“But I am wearing one though… Has the scent been bothering you all this time, Arasaka?”

“No, Arasaka was wrong. Arasaka likes perfume, and Arasaka hates salt. Taste of sadness. The scent of sadness.”

“Oh, no! If Pantalone’s smell makes my dear Arasaka sad, then maybe we should drown him in Varunastra,” you chuckled darkly, expecting the aranara to react loudly over your out-of-pocket remark.

“Of course. Salt Nara would make for decent spare rations!”

You laughed out loud at Arasaka’s even more out-of-pocket reply. Out-of-pocket is an understatement, that comment straight up sounded out-of-the-CASKET.

Before standing up, you ruffled Arasaka’s nonexistent hair like you would with your deceased sisters.

“I’ll come back in a few days, okay? In the meantime, why don’t you read a cookbook?”

“Hmph! Nara (Y/n), you’re being mean! Just wait! My sisters will make a dish Nara (Y/n) can’t say “no” to!”

“It’s a dumb risk.”

“It’s a new business venture, dearest.”

“The market for new eyeglasses isn’t going to rise any time soon.”

“Why are you so adamant on opposing this idea?”

“Stagnation breeds putrefaction, especially in business, does it not?” You raised an eyebrow, preparing for a harangue.

“Je suis d’accord!” The man spoke softly, accentuating his Fontaine pronunciation somewhat boastfully. Knowing your disability, he never raises his voice to the point of it hurting. “And it is precisely why I want to invest in an eyewear conglomerate in Sumeru.”

“Then why are you dropping your prior investments?!”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

You sighed, annoyed.

Pantalone is an amazing businessman, but without your council, he wouldn’t amount to who he is now. Unlike most people, “sneakily ambitious” are not the words you would describe your visionless friend. Such a moniker sounds insulting given his lack of celestial blessings and you know Celestia itself never took kindly towards his well-versed dirty tricks against his opponents.

In your humble opinion, the term “industrious” is a better-suited and less backhanded compliment for him.

You’ve known Pantalone— no— “██████” since childhood. Your history stretched back so much that you no longer recall the circumstances of how you befriended him. He acted as your ears when it came to haggling and normal day-to-day chores. As far as you know, he has always been an older brother to you. In times of extreme poverty, you both prayed and starved together, scraping by using salt rocks as entrees.

There was no one else that made your deafness bearable except for him. With no family left, he was your only beacon of hope and dear Morax– you’d rather not remind yourself of the time your dead sisters mistakenly ate mud for rice cakes when famine struck.

You chose Amurta out of the Six Great Schools for a reason:

You can’t afford to watch anyone die of hunger ever again.

When you began living in Sumeru, you had pledged your alliance with the region but never forgot all the toil you had to go through. As a malnourished child, you quickly fell in love with the nation. In Sumeru, healthcare was free– in Liyue? You heard nothing, and you wished that “advantage” doesn’t make you blind from the evil you witnessed in the slums. Poverty ate away your hearing, your family, and your childhood dreams…

In a way, the only reason you see aranaras in the first place may be that you didn’t have the chance to experience any childlike wonder until you escaped Liyue.

Pantalone scoffed, “whether you agree with my financial decision or not doesn't affect my resolve. Do not press more about this, dearest.”

… But you’re convinced that your closest confidant “██████” had already perished from starvation long ago.

The man before you calls himself “Pantalone” nowadays and you lose all sense of indolence whenever his presence looms. When he watched your last sister perish in your arms, an epiphany gave birth to his cold demeanor towards deities. He found it challenging to worship the Archons who had no need for mora but were eager to take it away from destitute mortals who needed it as you and your sisters did. The death of your younger sibling was his final straw, and in a sense, you also buried your old friend that night.

Unlike ██████, Pantalone cannot forgive nor trust the Archons for their broken promises. If Lesser Lord Kusanali had abandoned withered forests, Rex Lapis had abandoned those whose blood and tears cannot amount to any mora. You were only allowed to study at the Akademiya after he decided the former was the lesser evil.

Although Pantalone never condemns you for calling him by his birth name, you cannot tell yourself that he and ██████ are fully the same person. There is an unspoken need to straighten your posture and greet him with a semi-scowl to demonstrate your maturity despite him acting cozy and warm. Worse, his lax demeanor never ceases to remind you that despite his uncomfortable reputation, Pantalone is the only companion you’d entrust your soul to even when the world warns you not to deal a contract with the devil.

“You just want to use new brackets every day—”

“I am a businessman, love.”

You speared Pantalone with a pointed look.

“—And why Sumeru? Have you landed a deal with a reputable Amurtan optician? And why didn’t you ask ME first? You weren’t cornered by Dottore or the Tianquan to kickstart an eyeglasses company, were you?”

He scowled, unamused before firing back without skipping a beat.

“Summer, seven years ago. You accidentally bought six bunraku puppets from Inazuma—”

Your eyes widened. Not this embarrassing anecdote again.

“Woah, woah! Now, why are YOU extorting me?”

“So you’d be silenced quicker.”

“…”

This reticence was slowly exasperating the harbinger, but he never utters a complaint when you're whom he's conversing with. Pantalone cleared his throat with an elegant smile. In that moment of cessation, you figured that he had a seemingly innocent proposal in mind.

“(Y/n), my most dearest baobei…” The harbinger ventured.

“Pantalone…”

He pulled out his desk drawer and ferreted out a parcel that you suspect contains a pair of glasses.

“Would you care to be a test sub—”

“No.”

You have a gut feeling as to where this is going. He’s going to propose that it’s “just” glasses until you find out he’s been using you to track or spy on someone without your knowledge. Classic Pantalone. You won't be duped by that TWICE in a row. If you knew better, you wouldn’t have accidentally leaked intel to the Fatui that Katheryne was being controlled by the Lord of Verdure. All because Pantalone hid a recorder on one of his “gifted” hearing aids...

Listen— just because you refused to lend a hand to the Archon when she was in need and was subsequently confronted by the 2nd harbinger in Sumeru City doesn’t mean you were colluding with these fools.

You just wanted to remain neutral in any given situation. Unlike your childhood friend, politics bore you to death. And just like the Acting Grand Sage, you’re too lazy to act as a beta tester no matter how minimal the effort the task requires.

“I only ask that you wear this pair of glasses and test its comfortability.”

“I refuse.”

“We can negotiate how much mora you’ll earn—”

“Just stop.”

“Hmm, if I phrase it as a “gift”, would you accept—”

“Hell no.”

Pantalone paused.

“Hmm…” He tapped his desk, gazing at the paperwork neatly piled up.

“Word of advice, (Y/n), it’s highly probable that the price of cocoa will rise next week,” he shrugged. “That fact is, of course, most definitely unrelated to our current discussion.”

Is he…

Is he threatening to generate chocolate inflation over a pair of glasses?!

You scoffed, eyes wide.

“██████, you worthless SCALPER.“

“The majority prefer to call me a ‘regrator’, but that new nickname is acceptable as long as it is you who makes such mildly unpleasant utterances.”

“GAH! You— YOU—” Even though he may completely ruin your usual routine of buying chocolates after work, it's difficult to curse him out. You have no choice but to spout illogical syllables without a valid clause. “JUST— YOU!!! YOU.”

Smack.

Upon hearing your facepalm resoundingly, he laughed uncontrollably, removing his glasses to wipe his eye with an uneven grin on his face. He tried to keep his composure but he kept snorting.

You took a peek between your fingers. What a precious noise. You haven’t heard him laugh like this for over three years now.

At that moment, you thought ██████ was alive.

“F-Fine— give me those damn eyeglasses.”

Pantalone drifted the parcel above your palm until he quickly retracted it as soon as you reached forward.

“But before I do that, can you promise me one thing?”

“What is it this time?” You groaned.

“Don’t lend it to anyone else, understand?” Pantalone slightly ruffled your hair. “I had it custom-made for you.”

You rolled your eyes, “that thing is definitely wiretapped. You’re not even bothering to hide it anymore.”

“Oh no, it’s not just that—”

“Just that?”

He shrugged smugly, which was not a good sign.

“The eyeglasses function similar to an Akasha Terminal, but of course, the information you’d find there is directly from my database.”

Pantalone opened the box and swiftly put the white-framed glasses on your face. He lightly tapped the frame—

and a control panel window flickered open.

Just like an Akasha.

“H-How on earth—”

“The Doctor and I had a deal. He’ll recreate at least 80% of a regular Akasha’s functions while I help him track down a few… crops. It’s a quid pro quo, I promise. It’s less of him exploiting me and more of me exploiting…— well, that doesn’t matter right now. C’mere, let me see your lovely face...”

Pantalone tilted your chin up with his thumb. His face was inches away from yours, and his piercing lilac eyes observed your glasses and what was behind them, calculating. His breathing was notably strained in a subconscious attempt to make you feel less uncomfortable from the position he trapped you in— ever the perfect gentleman— but you see his entire face flushed in a pinkish hue. A few seconds have passed, and you feel the glove pressed against you twitching.

Pantalone pulled away, shoulders stiff.

His ears were red.

“I-It’s working as intended.”

If not for the nature of your relationship, you were close enough to kiss– an appealing notion for the harbinger, yet it is not a move he should bring himself to try.

“Y-Yeah, no kidding. That was awkward.”

He gripped his arm, looking at the window.

Pantalone is painfully aware you think of him as an older brother. Or at least, the shadow of one, given how you rarely call him by name anymore.

“My apologies, I simply wanted to take a good look at you.'

He muttered, “you’ve grown into a gorgeous person, (Y/n).”

You didn’t hear him.

“██████– I mean, Pantalone–”

“Go back to calling me ██████, dear.”

“Pantalone.” You put more emphasis on his harbinger name, watching in glee as he rolled his eyes, “I expect to be paid in chocolates and at least two months’ worth of food.”

Indeed, your proposed exchange pleased him. ██████ knows how much you value healthy eating and abhor it greatly when others waste grains of rice. Time and imagination had transformed his early memories as you as a human so close to a skeletal figurine with sunken cheeks and broomstick-like limbs. Those thoughts cause him much sorrow. Pantalone would have pampered you for free if you had only let him– seeing you eating healthy gives him life. Almost like how a father would tell his children that seeing them full is enough to make him full as well.

Let him spoil you with food. Please.

Seeing you thin makes him feel sad.

“What do you want to eat for dinner later? My treat, as always.”

“Mint salad sounds lovely.”

“Just mint salad?” Pantalone smiled thinly.

His dearest baobei, no longer skin and bones. No longer barely fueled by rice and salt. No longer skipping meals. It warms his heart more than the exclusive springs offered to him because of his mora and title… But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

“Hmm… Would it be okay to request a plate of Triple-Layered Consommé?” You muttered, gazing at the floor. “I kind of miss your cooking… Just. Just kind of.”

His heart skipped a few beats as he saw your shy expression.

You straightened up, coughing, “not that your cooking is anything special, it’s just that I don’t want to eat anything too bland and–”

“Of course! Anything for you, my love.”

Pantalone grabbed your hand and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“My baobei, you’d be too full to walk once I’m done spoiling you…”

“D-Did you have to word it so seductively?!”

You blushed once again, which only served to worsen his urge for making you undeniably satiated.

Oh, how he wants to keep you in a cage, locked up, and fed until he’s satisfied that you’ll never starve again…

Maybe then, you’d let him spoon-feed you like years before...

There's no rest for the wicked. When you returned to Vanarana the next day, the aranaras pulled you in for another chore at Devantaka Mountain.

“Hey, little man, get down there, right now!”

You screamed with your hands cupped around your mouth to amplify your voice. The aforementioned "small man" scoffed, not shifting an inch from his posture, as the blue aranara crept up behind you.

Ararycan worriedly relayed that a “Wood Nara” had been trespassing the large abandoned Khaenri’ahn machine. The little vegetable-like creature had grown to trust you when it came to scaring off unwanted guests, which usually entailed eremites or treasure hoarders scavenging for scrap metal.

“Ararycan wants to stop Wood Nara.”

You gently pried the wire off their hand, keeping it in your pocket in a very definite fashion.

“I know, ‘Rycan, but Naras are stubborn beings.”

“Just like Nara (Y/n)?”

You gasped, eyes widened.

These plant-like beings are surprisingly masterful at the art of roasting.

“Just like Nara (Y/n), you say?! Rude, Ararycan, rude.”

You laughed humorlessly, masking your jadedness with forced laughter.

In all honesty, you’re inclined to believe that this job reassignment was Alhaitham’s way of punishing you for remaining neutral. But surprisingly? An Amurta alumnus like you have been enjoying the task and in no small part thanks to these silly little creatures.

It's absurd to imagine that you would consent to be pulled by these vegetable creatures. You initially believed that they were paracosms produced by a lack of stimulation. You once tried to ignore them. Regrettably, that frail facade didn't survive due to a couple of slip-ups. The first to catch you drawing their likenesses next to your weather reports was Arapas. The second was Arabalika, who overheard you whispering about how powerful they were after they defeated a ruin grader, and then Arama who heard you humming their songs. They’ve built up quite the case against you, and you had to fess up before they start giving you a hard time.

By “hard time”, you were referring to how a crowd of tumultuous aranaras huddled up and tugged your hearing aids’ wire with their teeny hands incessantly.

Which was what Ararycan is doing right now.

“Get us up there, Nara (Y/n).”

"Careful, Rycan– you might damage the wire."

Suddenly, the hatted man's eyes widened after seeing you. Call it intuition, but it seemed like this total stranger knew who you were.

You made an exaggeratedly loud inhaling sound, turning off your hearing aids momentarily.

And then, a scream.

“STOP, STAY WHERE YOU ARE!!! RIGHT!!! NOW!!!”

The difference between stupidity and bravery is measured by outcome, and neither are variables you wish for this “Wood Nara” to test out. Alhaitham would have you write two pages detailing an incident if the stranger broke something and eight more if the machine awakened. And sadly, you are only a small percent less lazy than that man.

Despite your words droning childishly, you made no move to approach him. His eyes sharpened, but you felt no scrutiny—

This man you’ve never met wore a blatant look of disbelief.

You looked down.

Maybe he could see Ararycan…?

“Hey— can you see them?”

You swiftly swept Ararycan off the ground, who made a surprised yelp.

The man winced.

"P-Please… Leave the forest alone…"

"And why should I care about your pathetic request?"

"Please, have mercy… T-There are creatures that live in this area… Creatures you cannot see because you lacked a human heart."

“–Ngh!”

Those memories were hard to swallow, like reading an inked sloppy handwriting submerged in water.

“G-Good riddance…”

The man coiled in pain, gripping his scalp with his lithe fingers. You cannot view the expression on his face, nor were you able to verify that he had yelped. The distance between you two was too great to conceive a communication that did not rely on shouting.

“Nara (Y/n), what are you doing?!”

Although your proximity with the aranara doesn’t cause any communication barriers, that didn’t stop Ararycan from yelling.

For some reason, the stranger flinched after seeing you carry what appeared to be air around “normal people”’s vision. Perhaps he found your actions cringe-inducing… or perhaps it made his migraine worse. Then again, both possibilities are not mutually exclusive. However, you have a feeling he didn’t flinch because he saw Ararycan.

The blue aranara leaped off of your hands.

“Ararycan is worried… Ararycan thinks Wood Nara is going to destroy the giant iron mountain…”

You stared up at the man again, wanting to go on for a long rant but refrained after realizing how immature that is. While you do have a hunch that the stranger possessed a vision, you’d bet mora that he is no match for Arabalika’s accumulated Ararakalari.

“Say, why do you keep calling him Wood Nara? Is it because of his ginormous hat?” You whispered to Ararycan.

“Huh? Did Nara (Y/n) not notice?” They tilted their head.

“Ararycan calls him “Wood Nara” because he’s made of white wood. Ararycan is not sure if he is a real Nara.”

Their answer entered from one ear and exited in the other. You’re used to hearing the Aranara lexicon that you never take any sentence at face value since you’ve learned your lesson back when Arasaka made you scout the market for a “Taste of Happiness.” Thank the Lord of Verdure that it was only Pantalone who laughed at you for describing sugar as “white, cubic, crumbles when crushed, becomes sand, and can be eaten.”

“Hah, well, he better not be made out of wood 'cause I might burn him.”

“Ararycan doesn’t think that’s easy to do. Wood Nara smells like the taste of anger,” once again, you ignored their riddled words.

You clutched the pyro vision dangling in your cloak’s right shoulder, located opposite where Alhaitham places his. Your skill set does not differ from that dendro user’s repertoire, and you calculated what vertice you should drop upon teleporting. Grabbing Ararycan, you rushed forward...

Without making it past the one-minute mark, you leaped effortlessly to where the stranger stood.

“Excuse me, young man, but do you have an Investigation Charter from the Akademiya?”

With an unused voice when it comes to dishing out commands– much less an implied threat– your approach wasn’t even a fraction of what makes authorities like the General Mahamatra intimidating. Yet, you still tried. You crossed your arms and hovered your hand near your claymore.

This stranger gazed up, boasting his soft face and beautiful lilac eyes topped with a complexion quite like a sheltered princess. He had the finest eyes you had ever seen. Yet, even with a heaven-sent face, his eyebrows were knitted. He continued kneeling on the cold metal of the giant mossed and corroded machine.

One closer look should’ve made you hyper-aware that his joints were not bound by mortal flesh, but your heart was more entranced by his glassy pupils.

“We meet again. If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.”

He muttered inaudibly, hence, you did not hear him. Since you also just came back from visiting Liyue and their post-festival fireworks, you’ve turned your hearing aid settings lower than usual. You bent your knees slightly, offering a hand.

“Nana korobi ya oki,” you said. The stranger looked like he hailed from Inazuma, so you thought you’d put your knowledge to good use. “It means–”

Unbeknownst to you, you uttered the same thing in a past long forgotten.

“I know: fall down seven times, get up eight.”

His gloved hand grasped your own, and you tried not to think about how soft yet firm it was as you pulled him up. You grunted slightly from the shifted weight while he didn’t breathe at all.

“No, I don’t have any clearance permit,” he said. “And I still don't have a heart, if that still matters to you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

‘Still’? What the hell is he talking about? Aaru village is miles away from here, but is it possible that the man you’re talking to is a mad scholar? That’s concerning.

Pushing your glasses farther up the bridge of your nose, you tried to search his face in Sumeru's records– which might be more unlawful than whatever this man's doing, but who's policing you anyways?

…

Nothing.

There's not a single official record on this man.

Not even in the Fatui's database.

Almost like the man in front of you doesn't exist.

"What the hell are you wearing?" The man sneered. "Since when did you have awful eyesight too?"

“No Investigation Charter, no clearance, just what do you think you’re doing here?” You digressed. “May I at least have your name?”

The man tilted his hat up, “and why should I stupidly give my information away?”

Your eye twitched. He kinda reminds you of Arabalika. Maybe if you gave him a cane he’ll calm down a bit.

“I do have a use for your name, awkward stranger.”

“And that is?”

Writing a report to the Acting Grand Sage regarding suspicious individuals.

“Something to call you,” you shrugged with a child-like candor, renewing your request with bold obstinacy. “I’d rather not recount this tale to various parties as That One Time An Awful Little Man Tried To Pry Open A Giant Machine And Failed.”

He exhaled curtly.

… Was that a laugh?

“How childish. Even if you don't know my name, your "friends"– assuming you have some– will remember me by that stupid description.”

“I mean, it's a memorable first impression,” you met his gaze smugly. “But why are you hiding your name, hmm? Suspicious.”

“It’s called respecting one’s privacy. Something you don't understand.”

How rude of him to make assumptions about you, “are you some covert government official?”

“No.”

“Then what? Are you some inhuman being?”

“...” He didn’t say a word.

Something tells you that the answer is close to your hunch.

“[Wanderer].”

He muttered, once again, you did not hear it so he spoke louder.

“That's my name. Don't you dare make me repeat it.”

“[Wanderer]…”

You missed the way he tipped his hat, hiding an uncontrollable smile from your view.

[Wanderer]... That does sound like a fitting name. It reminded you of a character from a franchise or mythological tale you thoroughly enjoyed as a teenager. It might be rude to share that information, though. You’re not certain how this bratty person would react upon hearing that his name might as well be the name of your lotus from a botany class.

Normally, [Wanderer] would snap a “speak up– is there something wrong with my name?” upon listening to hushed whispers or a resounding silence after his many introductions. But you’re different for a reason.

There was no way in hell he would take the traveler's suggestion over a name you had given him.

Ararycan tugged your pants.

“Hey, don’t just stare at him, Nara (Y/n)! Tell him to leave!!!” Araycan trashed around. “Nara (Y/n) must be a brave Nara if you like the taste of anger.”

[Wanderer] is the taste of anger? Is that what Ararycan was trying to say?

You blushed, fake-coughing behind your hand.

You wouldn’t say he reminds you of the taste of anger– especially with that winsome face. If anything, his appearance looks a lot like the bunraku dolls you accidentally bought years ago.

“Well, [Wanderer], it’s nice to finally put a name to a face,” you said. “But this is a dangerous area. What are you doing here…?”

“I just wanted to look for traces of the Doctor,” [Wanderer] crossed his arms. “Unfortunately, I can’t pry this stupid machine open.”

“The Doctor? Who’s that?”

“The Harbinger who sits at the second–”

“Aah, The Outcast. I see–” you shook your head. “Wait, no, I don’t get it. What does he have anything to do with this machine here? This is a Khaenriah’n creation.”

“I know, I’m not dumb like you. I'm here because The Doctor had plans for these automatons, that’s why I’m here.”

“But even so, it’s not advisable to wander these parts alone. You ought to have asked for a travel companion. Who knows if you run into a hoard of vanaagnis in marana?”

“Hmph. Do you think I can’t handle a few whooperflowers in a withering zone? The audacity.”

“Arrogance is the capital stock of misfortune– wait, how’d you know Vanaagnis is a term for whooperflowers?” You blinked expressively. “And the meaning of marana too– so you ARE a mad scholar.”

“I’m NOT,” [Wanderer] glared. You noticed how he seemed unimpressed when you mentioned that proverb about arrogance and “capital stock”, and his expression soured more when you accused him of being a lunatic.

“I just… I just learned from the best.”

[Wanderer]'s stare not wavering away from you.

Your silence did not go unnoticed by the other two.

“...Why do I have a feeling you’re trying to say that you’ve learned from me?” Those words had escaped from your mouth before you could stop them.

[Wanderer]’s eyes widened.

“Can… Can you remember?”

“Remember…?”

He frowned, eyes reflecting his disappointment.

“No, no, it’s probably just a fluke,” [Wanderer] frowned with a finger tracing his lips. “Maybe my expression just gave it away…”

“Nara (Y/n)!!! Tell Wood Nara to leeaaaaveee!!!”

You tried not to flinch at Ararycan’s whining. They don’t seem to understand that having poor hearing doesn’t mean you can’t register their commands.

[Wanderer] walked past you.

“Fine, I’ll leave this device alone, but on one condition.”

“What makes you think you’re the one in control–”

“Go out with me.”

“...”

“... What?”

Your eyeglasses flickered red.

But that red light was gone in a blink, you weren't even sure if it existed.

You laughed nervously, “sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly–”

He refused to meet your eyes like a coward.

[Wanderer] replied brusquely, “look– you're partially deaf, but you’re NOT stupid. You heard what I said, so own it.”

"Hold on– where is all this coming from, [Wanderer]?" You pivoted your heel but were too late to yank his sleeve.

He already hovered a few feet away from you.

"I'll come to visit this place more often," [Wanderer] smirked. "You’ll still be here at the upcoming Festival, right? Mark your calendar. That’s our date.”

“Hey, you can’t just!– Aaand he’s gone.”

Despite his abrupt parting, you couldn’t help but smile over such a cheeky encounter, completely forgetting how that man rummaged through the giant machine you’re standing on without a permit.

Something tells you that you’d see him more often.

And you did.

“[Wanderer]” never failed to visit you at 10 AM sharp every day, until there was only one day left till the next Sumeru Festival. At first, you thought his eccentric personality would make the following days unbearable, but he was rather civil– just sharp-tongued.

He would show up whenever you wandered in the forest to disseminate knowledge about the local flora and Sumeru's history. Some of them you already knew, while others had you wondering if he knew the Lord of Verdure. While you were trying to interview him for a report, not as a trespasser but as an assistant, you once purposely lightened the atmosphere to get honest responses from him. When you jokingly asked who he was, his reply was unsatisfactory.

“Who I am is not carved in wood nor stone. ᏕᎧᎷᏋᎧᏁᏋ wise told me that it’s a flexible concept and it’s easier to understand through a story, but even then, you’d only see a fraction of who that person is,” [Wanderer] peered dotingly. “If you wish to know who I am, then work for it. I’m not giving you a damn summary.”

Tomorrow is your first "date" with the man and you barely knew him.

Your internalized frustration made him think you’re insatiably adorable.

How the tables have turned.

After all, [Wanderer] only responded with the same answer you had given him before.

In a forgotten history, ᎩᎧᏬ were the one that spouts spontaneous philosophical questions that led him into fits of unintelligible musings. [Wanderer] berated humanity for being sentimental creatures yet look at him now, proudly boasting the name ᎩᎧᏬ gave him wherever he went. It is by no means grander than a title like God of Everlasting Eternity or other such monikers, but when Godhood has stripped away from him, that name provided more solace than a seat in Celestia.

“The Puppet”, “Kunikuzushi”– such utterances are water under the bridge. Only [Wanderer] stays afloat, like a bubble on water. Maybe a bubble is only beautiful for a moment, yet that moment weighs more than a meaningless “eternity” and he knows this well…

[Wanderer] had been played by fate. Attaining freedom, independence, and a vision did not absolve what chokehold you had on his synthetic being.

You're a colorful character, averaging about five meaningful papers per year– all the while considering yourself a "retired" genius. [Wanderer] would've been a kinder and forgiving person if you were his young and impressionable self's creator. He envied your patients, your strange collection of bunraku dolls, and the tenderness you reserve for them.

He missed you, no matter how often you both fought. Your hums used to enchant him when you lull him asleep with aranara songs, but they now haunt him up at night. You were his puppet and he was your dictator until you had grown exhausted of foreign power enough that you abandoned your neutrality and revolted.

But you did not revolt against him in this revision. Without a doubt, his revised “past” still mirrored the pain he caused, but through other means. He can’t say he had no regrets when he tampered with the Irminsul. Niwa’s death had less weight in this world, and for the wanderer, death without sanctification for a significant purpose is unnecessary homicide. And instead of helping Azar’s experiment, you became a “disobedient pet” who saw no need to collaborate with his superiority complex.

Yet, despite being such a disobedient pet– in his opinion, that’s a grave understatement–, he can’t help but cherish you.

The puppet missed the way his delusion marked your body. Fingerprint-like blotches collared your neck before, but when the slate was wiped clean, so too did his inflicted bruises. He missed the way you begged him to stop the pain. He missed the way you defended invisible creatures as “Queen Aranyani’s successor.” He missed the way you begged to keep the forest safe.

He missed the way you begged to be his.

But those marks are long gone– the symbol he carved on the nape of your neck had disappeared. You no longer had anything that resembled signs of his ownership.

Not only that, but seeing you wear eyeglasses– something you haven't before– fills him with anger.

The one saving grace from this situation was when this timeline confirmed that you wouldn’t help Azar if it wasn’t for [Wanderer]. You were interested in his personality and disposition as a puppet longing for a human heart, not just any of Dottore’s run-of-the-mill creations. That observation surely boosted his ego.

Your opinions mattered to him most in that project. Admittedly, he craved everyone’s veneration, even when they lacked true understanding.

But you were the first mortal that made him appreciate his defects…

"Is it so bad to live this way?" You combed his hair with your fingers. "Must you try your hand with such heresy?"

"Know your place," Scaramouche gritted his teeth. "You're nothing more than my maintenance worker- you do not deserve an audience."

"Be that as it may, future faux-god, can't you entertain me for just a moment? If I wasn't worried about you, I wouldn't be helping you with this damn treacherous experiment.

You ignored how he snarled at such a nickname, "it pains me to watch you lust for more power when you already boast an acceptable form. What is it that makes you so desperate? Is it because you can't hide the ball joints that connect your fingers and limbs?"

You continued while adjusting the tightness of his skeletal wrists.

"Is it so bad to live on as a defective being? Does imperfection invalidate a life's purpose? I only ask out of curiosity. I have imperfect ears, so does that make my life devoid of meaning?"

Scaramouche frowned, "do not compare your ears to my heart or lack thereof."

He didn't understand why his voice cracked. Scaramouche did not feel his usual temperament sizzling over but something heavy resided in his chest.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize, I know you're not sorry," Scaramouche cupped your cheek, sporting an uncharacteristically loving smile.

"And your unapologetic behavior is what makes you my first sage."

His first sage…

[Wanderer] laughed to himself.

His first sage would know that if he gained a heart, he would've seen the aranara you were talking to earlier.

But this is fine. He can start over again.

This time, he’ll make you love him normally.

Heaven, please help the white wood that fell in love for it will never be human…

…

Out of the blue, Scaramouche spun and hurled three consecutive wind blades toward the woods with precision.

Be that as it may, the walking salt is surely more pathetic.

The “trees” grunted, but [Wanderer] did not miss the smell of salt-infused perfumes.

What a shame.

The next Sumeru Festival, your “date”, is tomorrow, yet there will always be those who lurk in the shadows to see the mighty fall.

"Pantalone…"

The ex-sixth harbinger snarled with unfathomable familiarity. Which was the complete opposite of the ninth harbinger, who coldly greeted him like a new enemy.

"Good afternoon, [Wanderer]."

Pantalone pulled out a gun from his hidden holster.

"No hard feelings, sir," the businessman smiled thinly. "I am but a simple man eliminating a love rival. You see, it’s not nice threatening to steal someone’s possession."

Scaramouche cackled.

How annoying. He never liked this friend of yours– he much preferred the one that planned a coup. Pantalone was not a coworker Scaramouche liked, much less a rival. This ambitious man was always a parasite, pretending to be worried while threatening to withhold project funding behind your back. Scaramouche will never forget how he boasted insolently that he had known you longer as if eternity wouldn't be enough to make up for it.

"You never change, mortal," he laughed even harder. "I knew something was off about (Y/n)'s glasses!"

"Hmm? Is that so?" Pantalone pushed them up closer– reminding Scaramouche that he’s no terrible shot. "How strange. In any case, I quite frankly don't care what you know or do not know."

He pulled the trigger as Scaramouche stomped his feet.

Only a few knew what occurred in Vanarana that day, but there was one thing the forest remembered.

Before either of them parted, a loud bang echoed that even deaf trees can't miss.

You woke up from Araja’s house (which was the only comfortable place to sleep in Vanarana) after passing out from tumultuous loads of paperwork sent directly by the Baharak. She joked that at that point, maybe she had become a bad omen for you– and you confirmed her suspicions. The tasks the Acting Grand Sage laid out for you were taxing, if not, deleterious for your mental well-being, and worst of all–

He sent a notice that this would be your last week patrolling Vanarana.

When you spread the announcement, the aranaras were saddened by the news. Even Arabalika was unimpressed and asked if you can prolong your services. Alas, it can’t be refuted.

Noticing how tired you appeared, the village chief immediately commanded you to sleep while you pretended not to hear whispers of a surprise farewell party. Considering how the place looked positively empty this morning, you’d wager that they’re busy working on it.

But you do smell that someone’s cooking right now…

The enticing scent emanated from a large pot. As you sauntered closer, you noticed how Arasaka was tending to the food. The aranara gave you a friendly wave that you didn’t reciprocate. It’s rather chilly in Vanarana in the mornings– and the sleeves of your jacket were comfy.

“Good morning, Nara (Y/n)!”

“Good morning, ‘Saka. That smells delicious,” you smiled bittersweetly.

“Hehe, really? Glad to hear it! One of Nara (Y/n)’s friends helped gather the ingredients. That Nara was good at hunting down prey!”

One of your friends…? You haven't introduced a lot of people to the aranaras. That can only mean it's either Baharak, Pantalone, or [Wanderer], and you can safely remove the first one since they're positively busy with guild matters.

... Huh. But those two can't see aranaras. Does that mean they stole Pantalone or [Wanderer]'s game?

"Pfft..." You chortled. Yeah, imagining either of them getting confused as to why their hunted boar had gone missing feels like a sight to see.

You took the ladle from Arasaka’s hand and sipped the warm liquid.

…

“Oh, hey, this tastes pretty good!”

“Hehe, Arasaka is glad to hear you liked it! Nara taste buds are hard to please.”

You took another sip as Arasaka watched. The warm soup went down smoothly, but the aftertaste had a serpent-like bite to it. It tastes akin to red sorghums Pantalone would down whenever social drinking was inevitable. Your only critique was that it would’ve been a refreshing experience if there wasn’t a rocky object stuck between your teeth. You awkwardly picked it out.

… And saw a small hint of (wood/salt) between your fingers.

You stared at Arasaka.

Strange…

Something feels… off.

This doesn't taste like happiness, it tastes like…

You shivered and yet the aranaras around you still had that same painted smile.

"Does Nara (Y/n) like the taste now? The taste of friendship?”

… Friendship?

No. That can’t be it.

The spoon splashed back into the bowl. You didn’t say a word, only stared at the boiling pot. You knelt, grabbing both handles to gaze upon the bubbling red liquid. With trembling hands, you picked the spoon back up and swirled the contents. Nothing was of note–

Until you scooped something from the very bottom and found thick strands of dark hair.

A very familiar strand of dark hair.

You adjusted your glasses in an attempt to find out where this human hair came from–

“Nara (Y/n) likes the scent of (wood/salt) Nara so my sisters added him in!” Arasaka innocently cheered.

Your heart dropped.

You turned pale– gagging.

No. It can't be.

Did you just eat…

“So, Nara (Y/n)– does our cooking taste bland now?”

… “him”?

“Oh, Nara (Y/n)’s friend is approaching! Don’t forget to thank him for the food!”

1K notes · View notes

writersblog20 · 11 months

Text

The fight and the love

Pedro Pascal x Agent reader (ANGST)

Summary: It would’ve been an easy mission. You were supposed to take out a group that was planning a terrorist attack but things soon, turned horribly wrong.

Warnings: SEVERE PTSD, VERY TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCE, mention of terrorism attack, being tortured for information, close to death, all the Symptoms that comes along with PTSD, quick mention of wanting to die but not by suicide, mention of team being murdered and tortured, multiple injuries etc etc, really, read with precaution and if you’re sensitive to these kind of things, I would advise you not to read this story. I have a masterlist with more uplifting and comforting storied but I wanted to try something new.

Words: 6K (oops)

I’M NOT JOKING, READ WITH PRECAUTION PLEASE!

A/N: This could be read as platonic or romantic relationship with Pedro. Also hi, I’m sorry for being so inactive for too long, I’ve been so, so busy with school, my job, and doing the graphics on my own for a big festival so as you can imagine, I don’t have the time to write but I WON’T stop! I’ll post so now and then. Hope you all understand, much love from your homegirl.❤️

The fight and the love

It would’ve been an easy mission they said… This was your first mission as a team leader, and it wouldn’t have been a big deal but that was nothing close to the truth. One thing you were sure about, there was a leak. But that wasn’t your big concern right now. Getting out of this situation alive, was your biggest concern. You needed to get yourself and your team back home.

You were supposed to stop a terror attack, but it was a well planed trap, taking you and your team somewhere secluded to spread terror across the country. They send videos public of yourself and your team getting tortured, and it booked the news all over the news. Not that you knew all of that, but you did know that the torture sessions were getting recorded. They wanted to know something and since you were the leader of the team, they came regular back into the room you were placed in.

Your breathing was wheezy, suspectedly from a collapsed lung, you guessed. You looked at the stab wounds which were burned to stop the bleeding, so they could keep torturing you and try to get information from you. You told them lies. You knew they would kill you if you didn’t give them something, yet they would kill you if you would tell the truth. They were doubting if you were lying or not so that’s how you’re still alive, inside some sort of chamber.

You had no idea how long you were here. It felt like an eternity, but it might’ve been 2 days or 2 weeks. You had no access to sunlight, keeping you guessing if it was night or day. You stared at the cement wall in front of you and thought about Pedro and the tears fell across your face. You were sure that you were not getting out of here alive. You just wished you would’ve told him how much he means to you, hug him, tell him you loved him. That was all you could think about in here, Pedro and how the hell you were getting yourself out of this. You were scared to death that he might’ve seen a torture video of you, that might’ve been worse than the torture because you knew it would affect him on a deeper level. You didn’t want those images circling his mind. You wanted him to think about the happy memories.

That was how you didn’t give up. There were many, many moments where you just wanted to die. Wanted them to kill you and be over with this. The moments where they were waterboarding and your lungs feeling on fire, thinking every second will be your last. Every hit, every shock, every stab wound, made you just want to die but then Pedro flashes through your mind. The moments of laughter, the hugs, silly dances, serious conversations, and most importantly, the love you felt in his presence. He was and will always be, the most important person in your entire live. Pedro was your family. And the moments you were the most scared in the torture sessions, all you could think of was Pedro, thinking that every minute was going to be your last and you didn’t want to go with the feeling of being absolutely petrified. No, you wanted to think about someone you loved, Pedro.

You had no clue when your last ‘session’ was. To keep yourself sane, you talked to the wall, imagining it was Pedro. You told the wall everything you wanted to tell him. You had no idea if your team members were still alive, who weren’t or if you were the only one. The thoughts about the government handling this came to mind as well. Were they planning on rescuing you, or not. You knew that they wouldn’t negotiate with terrorist so that scared you. The thought of nobody coming to rescue you was horrible. You had to keep your mind from swirling down into a deep rabbit hole, so you refocused on the happy memories with Pedro. Like the days he brought you to Disney because he heard you’ve never been there, taking you to the beach, or you taking him back to your birth country and show him the things from your childhood. You felt helpless yet determined. It was such a rollercoaster of emotions and thoughts. You were sure that this was a form of torture as well as the physical.

The door slammed open, and you saw the terrorist for the first time without something covering their face and at that moment, you were sure you were going to die. They walked over to you, dragging you up. You tried to fight back but your entire body was in too much pain. You had no idea how many bones they broke but you were sure there would be a couple. They kicked you and you screamed as loud as you could and kicked around but they got you. You promised yourself, not to go down without putting up a fight. They dragged your body into the torture room, and you saw blood everywhere. You were sure someone just died in here. There was no way that someone could lose this much blood and still be alive.

They placed you on a table and you knew the drill. Waterboarding. You felt your heartrate pick up, the thundering against your chest, your breathing shallow and fast. You tried to beg for mercy, crying your eyes out at this point and tried to fight them. A towel was placed over your face, and you felt water being poured over you, the air escaping you. You tried to remain as calm as possible at this point, trying to keep as much air in your lungs as you could. But as usual, they kept the towel on your face for a very long time. You started gasping for air and tried to wiggle around but they had put something sharp on your wrist, ankles, and neck, making every movement even more unbearable because of the pain. You felt yourself grow dizzy and slowly losing consciousness until you passed out.

~time skip~

You felt something sharp hit you, waking you up in an unbearable feeling of pain as you let out a blood curling scream. You tried to wiggle away but the sharp things, keeping you in place, which you could now see was barbed wire. You saw the blood seeping down and a big knife in your stomach and you were certain they had hit an organ, making you bleed intern. They took out the knife and they plunged it into your leg, making you scream again, and they repeated this for a while, screaming things in a different language. They held the knife up to your throat and made you look in the camera. And this was the moment you were sure that you were going to die in here. You saw the camera blink red. Tears streamed down your face and all you could think of was the world seeing you die. Pedro, seeing you die. You needed him to know that you loved him so that was what you said: “I love you Pedge.” The knife was tightly against your throat, and you felt hot liquid wall down from where the knife was and closed your eyes, expecting it to happen right now until there was an extremely loud sound coming from outside.

So loud that the whole building shook. The camera fell, just like the terrorists besides you. everything was covered in dust, making it hard to see. Your ears were buzzing, and people were screaming around you, giving out orders and from pain. There was still a knife in your leg, and you knew that this was your only chance to escape so you took the knife out of your leg and tried to cover your scream. You started slicing in the wires and luckily, you were loose. You saw that they left the door open, and you tried to stand up but fell from the pain and the loss of blood.

You saw people in uniforms coming in, a green laser from their guns. “Found her!” a man screamed and helped you up. Another soldier helping you as well, leading you out of the room and building. “We’re going to get you out of here chief.” They said and it was an odd feeling of relieve, yet horror. People were screaming all around you, your vision blurry and you fell again. They picked you up and carried you outside. The sun was out, shining brightly on your face. It was hot and still dusty. You looked around you and saw a couple of buildings around you, probably base camp of some sorts. There was a lot of sand, and the sun was already burning you. They gave you water since you were very dehydrated. That was the moment it occurred to you that they didn’t give you food. It might be strange not to think about it earlier but with all the pain and torture going around, that was the last thing on your mind.

They brought you to the rescue helicopter and immediately a doctor looked at your wounds. The way her nose scrunched up and her eyebrows knitted together, didn’t give you the best feeling in the world, even though it was no surprise to you how badly you were injured. Yes, they’ve rescued you out of the building but there was still an immediate danger for your life. The moment the helicopter raised up, a feeling of safety washed over you. A colleague who went along on the mission, held your hand. You wanted to ask where everyone was, but you couldn’t talk, you didn’t know why. She was trying to get every wound stable, her hands grabbing stuff around her as you slipped in and out of consciousness.

“Hey kiddo, come on, stay awake for me, okay?” your colleague begged you. “We’re going to get you home, okay? But you’ve got to stay awake for me.” you squeezed his hand and the doctor spoke up: “This is bad. It’s not looking good right now. Can we go faster?” she asked worried. You just tried to stay focused on your colleague until you felt everything grow very heavy, including your eyelids. You heard people begging around you to stay away and you tried to, but the feeling of your heavy eyelids won.

“Put her on the stretcher!” your colleague shouted. The helicopter was landed on the roof of the hospital, the other doctors already waiting for you. The doctor from the helicopter, staying by your side and keeping the bags of blood transfusion and painkillers, and the IV. Some soldiers put pressure on the wounds inflicted on you. They wheeled you in and Pedro was walking back and forth, biting his nails, hair ruffled, baggy eyes from lack of sleep and crying. His eyes went big as they wheeled you in the hospital and tried to get you as fast to surgery as possible. The doctor from the helicopter, telling the doctors her founding’s. Pedro was by your side in a second and was shocked to see the state that you were in. The tears streamed down his face as he looked at your bloody, bruised body that was covered by wires, bags, and Iv’s. Your colleagues took Pedro away and informed him while the rolled you immediately into surgery.

~time skip~

Your head was pounding, ears still buzzing, and your body started to tense up from anxiety and adrenaline. You heard a familiar beeping sound, speeding up, and you tried to open your eyes. The pain rushed back to you and the room was too light. You whimpered from the pain and felt that somebody was holding your hand. “baby girl?” you heard a very familiar voice, whisper. His voice cracked as he asked you. You tried to blink a few times, but everything looked blurry. You saw Pedro bow a bit down over you. You squeezed his hand in response, your voice still very painful and croaky. You heard someone walk in with heels. Everything in you was now on high alert. You knew you were safe and probably in a hospital yet, your body didn’t know that and was still completely in survival modes. You kept blinking until the blur wasn’t so obvious anymore.

You saw Pedro with tears pooling in his eyes and it broke your heart into a million pieces. This was the man that kept you going so long, that made you want to keep on fighting, keeping you alive, sane, and not so alone. You felt everything crumble down as you let the tears out. A loud sob escaped your throat, hurting you in the process as you tried to reach your arms around him but to no avail. Luckily, Pedro knew what you wanted and very carefully placed his arms around you, and hang a bit over your body, making it look like he was shielding you from every dangerous thing in the world. You hid your face in the crook of his neck and completely broke down as his comforting smell hit your nose, giving you the feeling of safety back.

“Oh, baby girl.” He tried to calm you down, but he was way too emotional as well and cried. You just both held each other, and you tensed every muscle that you had around him, to feel him close even though it pained you. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” That were the first words you told him. He didn’t know why you thanked him at that time, but you were sure to tell him why later. More sobs escaped you and you felt something move the iv in your arm, making you panicked again. Your body jolted from panic as you tried to move Pedro away and look at what was happening. Even though your rational thoughts knew it was a doctor, you just didn’t trust it. You saw a kind face looking at you and before you could do anything she spoke up: “Don’t worry, I’m just readjusting your iv and put some extra medication in against the pain and to keep you relaxed.”

You had a rollercoaster of emotions floating through you right now. From panic, to feeling safe, to feeling scared and in danger to emptiness again. Pedro saw the swirl of emotions in your eyes just like the doctor. Pedro’s heart broke even more, seeing you like this. “Do you remember what happened?” The doctor asked softly and now you finally took in your surroundings. You were in a hospital room, next to a window. It was dark out and you could see lights from the skyscrapers. The lights in the room dimmed but since they kept you in darkness for God knows how long, it obviously pained your eyes,

“How long was I in there?” that was all you needed to know. The doctor looked down with a pained expression just like Pedro. “A week and a half. They found you through some details in the video that was shown public.” You frowned “Public?” you felt your heartbeat go up and the doctor and Pedro looked at the monitor. “Videos of you, and your team being tortured and killed, got leaked to the public…..” and once again, it felt like your world was crashing down on you. “Everyone has seen it?” You asked and your voice cracked. Pedro sniffled and nodded as he looked down for a second before making eye contact. You saw it. you could see it in his eyes, clear as day, that he had seen the things and you felt your heart break once again. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.” You weren’t sure why he was apologizing but nodded, tears escaping.

‘How long have I been here?” you decided to ask and change the subject. “2 days or so. We were expecting for you to be asleep for a week, given your injuries.” She told you honest. “What are my injuries exactly?” you looked at her, kind of afraid of her answer. It became dead silent in the room as she handed you the file. You frowned a bit and opened your file. You saw a whole goddamn list of injuries. Broken ribs, 24 stab wounds, collapsed lung, internal bleeding from your abdomen, jaw broken on multiple places, broken eye socket, multiple stiches needed for the cuttings, broken wrist, broken ankle, water found in lungs, badly bruised neck, and the list just went on and on.

You felt tears pooling in your eyes and handed the doctor her files back, not wanting to read more for now. “There will be a psychologist seeing you tomorrow. To adjust ehh.. your mental health…” you nodded and felt a brick on your heart. You just wanted to forget about it all and never talk about it again, but you knew. You knew damn well. You already had PTSD but now…. yeah, you knew the drill, didn’t make it any easier though.

“Thank you.” you tried to steady your voice but failed. She nodded “Can I do something else for you? How is the pain now and do you maybe want to eat or drink something?” she asked you and you didn’t know. Everything was just so intense right now that even answering the easiest questions was too hard. “Do you want some water sweetheart?” Pedro crouched down on eyesight, figuring out what kind of mental state you were in and tried to make it easier for you. Pedro’s voice was so soft and kind that it brought you to tears again. You nodded about drinking some water. “I’ll give you something stronger for the pain.” She decided for herself, and you were glad she did.

You couldn’t look away from Pedro. It felt unreal to see him again. For, apparently, a week and a half you were so sure that you were going to die and never see him again. But you were here and so was he. The doctor walked away, and Pedro found it hard to make eye contact with you. To see the pain in your eyes was too much for him to handle. You brushed your bruise knuckles over the back of his hand. “Please look at me.” You begged him as your voice broke. He slowly looked up, tears in his eyes as well. “Please stay with me. I’m scared.” You told him through tears as you confessed and that was what broke him the most, hearing you, the person he knew that wasn’t afraid of anything, tell him that you were scared. Tears fell onto his cheeks.

He intertwined your fingers, and you cupped his cheek to softly wipe the tears of his cheek. “Can you please hold me?” you sniffled, having enough of being strong right now. You just wanted to be held so badly. He nodded “Of course, mi Chica.” He sniffled and kissed your forehead as he stood up, letting his lips linger on your forehead. Your hands carefully held his wrist that ever so carefully cupped your cheek. Pedro sniffled again and let his forehead rest against yours. “I was so afraid to lose you.” Pedro confessed as his tears escaped his eyes again. “I was afraid that I was never going to see you again, tell you how much I love you, hold you.” he kept confessing and somehow you felt relieved yet pained that he felt the same thing as you did. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here now.” you sniffled through your own tears. He nodded and took a deep breath to control himself.

You tried to scoop over so Pedro could lay down next to you, but the pain was too much. “Lie still sweetheart, I don’t want you to be in more pain as it is.” You whimpered slightly. You didn’t care about the pain, you wanted Pedro to cuddle you, and the determination was visible on your eyes as he chuckled softly, but it also told him in how much of desperation you were for him right now.

The doctor walked back in and softly knocked, exposing her presence as not to scare you. You and Pedro looked at her and as if she figured out what you wanted, she smiled kindly at you. “We could put an extra bed besides you, if you’d like…” she told the two of you with a smile. You nodded and tried to give her a genuine smile back but failed. She gave you a bottle of water with a straw in and put the things besides you to your other side. Pedro helped her with the bed and placed it tightly against yours. Pedro took his shoes off and climbed in next to you as the doctor put some stronger medication into your iv. “There you go, you should be able to sleep a bit now. Get some rest, you and your body need it right now. And if there is anything, anything at all, just press this button and I’m here within seconds.” You could cry at how kind she was right now. It probably was because of the week and a half full of torture and hate that it felt unnatural that someone was kind. It just felt off.

You whispered a small thank you and looked at her with tears in your eyes. She gave you an apologetic smile back and nodded, walking out of the room. You looked at Pedro who held a close eye on you, as suspected. He carefully placed his arm underneath your head so you could rest on it. “I’ll hold you on one condition.” It felt like he was strict right now “If it pains you, you tell me, okay? and we figure another way out, alright baby girl?” He asked you and looked deeply into your eyes so the message would be clear. You nodded and let him hold you. He laid down on his side, his other arm around you and you let your head rest against his shoulder. “Thank you.” you whispered out. You felt the meds kicking in like a brick. It got you relaxed and sleepy and it worked like a charm. Your eyes heavy again and you fell asleep in no time just not for long. Night terrors are a common symptom of PTSD and even though you were safe, it wasn’t over.

“baby girl wake up! Sweetheart! please wake up…..” Pedro tried to wake you up from a bad night terror. The doctor and nurses ran into the room. “Miss…. Miss, you’re dreaming wake up.” but nothing worked so they decided to doze up your medication until you shot up straight in bed, completely out of breath, still in a panic. You were in the hospital, but the flashbacks got you back into the chamber and in everyone around you, you saw those terrorists. You screamed on the top of your lungs and tried to fight them off. Pedro was shocked in horror at how bad this was. I mean, of course he knew it was bad, he saw the videos. But the moment you didn’t recognize Pedro, he knew you needed help. Tears floating in his eyes again when a nurse ran out of the room. Even though, you are very badly injured, your need to survival was stronger, making you inhumanly strong from the adrenaline right now.

Pedro walked up to you while the nurses tried to hold you down, so you wouldn’t tear up the stitches. Pedro was determined to bring you back and cupped your cheeks. Your eyes were extremely big, pupils blown as he looked desperately in your eyes. “Baby girl, it’s me, Pedro. Remember? Your safe, I won’t let anything bad happen to you, look at me Chiquita. Come on, I know you’re in there. please, I need you.” his voice begging you more with each word. You slowly stopped struggling and Pedro could see it in your eyes that you were back. Your heartrate slowly going down, while you tried to catch your breath and looked around you in shock of what you just did. Tears forming in your eyes. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry… I eh…..” you were shocked in horror at how bad it was, I mean, it’s to be suspected but still, how could you forget your Pedge? They all took a deep breath that you were back. Pedro softly petted over your hair in order to calm you down more and letting you know that he is there. “I’m sorry…” you looked teary eyed at the nurses and doctors.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. It’s not a little thing you went through. IT completely understandable. But thank you for apologizing even though you don’t have to.” You felt tears running over your cheeks as the realization hit you that you were going to have to deal with a lot of things. You just started crying, feeling so extremely defeated that for a moment, you whished they just would’ve killed you and that thought made you even cry more because on the other hand you were happy to be alive and with Pedro, but it was all so much and confusing with all these emotions running through your body.

You tried to collect your head when a nurse spoke up: “Would you like to maybe watch a movie or something light? It might help you fall asleep a bit more peaceful and distract you.” The other nurses exchanged looks as if it was a good idea and to be honest, you would like that. You tried to give her a smile and nodded “That might be a good idea. I would like that.” She smiled and nodded.

She gave you the tv remote and told you that Netflix was available. The nurses still gave you the medication to calm you down if you would have another flashback. Pedro noticed your need for distraction right now and he gave you all the room and time to share your story with him, whenever you are ready. He was just relieved that he had you back in his arms again.

Pedro was glued to your side, and you didn’t mind it one bit, you needed him to be as close as possible. You both watched the Golden Girls. Pedro told you about the show once and you decided to watch a couple of episodes with him and you loved it. Even though you tried to focus on the tv but you kept going back to that moment which you thought would be your last. “I thought I would never see you again.” You whispered as your head was resting on his chest in a way that didn’t hurt you. You felt Pedro shift and you knew he was looking at you, so you looked up.

You felt your eyes filled up with tears again for the millionth time that day. “I thought I was going to die there and all I could think about was you.” Pedro felt his heart break and tears escaped his eyes but didn’t say something. He just let you speak, knowing you weren’t finished telling him. “All I could think of that week and a half was you. You kept me going when I wanted to die. They put me in a chamber for so long in complete darkness and I would talk to the wall, pretending I was talking to you. It kept me somehow sane.” Pedro listened intently to every word you told him. He was absolutely gob smacked to what you confessed and how much he meant to you.

“When they would…. When they did those things to me… I wanted nothing more than to die right on the spot, hoping they would have mercy and take me out of my misery but… when those thoughts came, so did you, it was like you pushed those thoughts away and when they would…. torture me… all I thought was about happy memories of us. Of us in Disneyland, dancing in the livingroom, sneaking into a theater to see the reaction of people who watched you on the big screen. Every happy memory I could think of, was with you. You kept me going, kept me fighting to survive.”

Pedro couldn’t help but cry from the moving words you confessed to him. “I thought… I was never going to see you again. I wanted to tell you so many things, hug you and see you for the last time. I was so sure of it to never see you again, and so convinced I was going to die there and already accepting my faith, that… that it feels weird to see you again. Like it all isn’t real and I’m just imagining it, like I’m going crazy, and I’ve finally lost it in there that I’m imagining all of this. I don’t know what’s real or not anymore….” Pedro was silently letting his tears fall until you confessed that you weren’t sure if this was real. That part brought determination to him.

“Mi corazon…. This is real, I’m real. You are safe but I understand that you don’t feel that way… that it messes with your head. But I know you trust me, and let me tell you, this is real. He carefully took your hand in his and placed it on his chest where his heart is. “You feel that? That’s real. All of this is real. I’m lost for words to your story… it… I …. I love you too. I’m so sorry that this happened, really, I can’t express it enough. And I love you too, I really do. When you’re fully recovered, we are going to make so many more happy memories. So much more that it won’t leave room for the bad” he told you and his digit softly tapping against your head. “We’ll get through this, together. I won’t leave your side and when you can get out of here, please stay at my house for a while. I’ll take care of you, love you through the good and the bad and won’t ever leave you. Come here sweetheart, your safe now.” he told you and let you cry it out while he comforted you through it.

“I would like that, to stay a while with you after this.” you talked through the sniffles.

~time skip~

It’s been over 3 months and you moved in with Pedro for a while. You had trauma therapy at least 3 times in the week and the aftermath of the event was unbelievable heavy. Panic attacks, night terrors, flashbacks, dissociation. Your triggers were enormous. Like the shower already triggered you from the waterboarding. Not to forget that your body was still recovering. It was tough but Pedro kept true to his word, not that you thought differently but still. He had soooo much patience and helped you through every flashback, every night terror, every panic attack, he was there, and you could count on him.

You’ve been given a while from work to readjust. But you still had court sittings. You had to testify against some of the terrorists that were still alive and in captivity. They had all the recordings, inclusive the last video, just before you got rescued. They haven’t shown that tape to the public but now would be the first time and obviously, Pedro was there to support you. They played the tape, and you couldn’t look. You couldn’t look at the screen, couldn’t look at the people in court, couldn’t look at Pedro because you knew, what you though were, your last words.

Every now and then your curiosity got the best of you and stole a glance from Pedro who stared in disbelieve at the screen, tears going over his cheek as he shook his head. The moment you looked in the camera, you looked up at the screen. God you looked bad, like really bad in that video that you are shocked yourself that you even made it out alive. That was how bad you looked like.

You looked down again and heard through the speakers in the court room: “I love you Pedge.” Pedro’s eyes went wide and immediately landed on you, the pool of tears visible in his eyes as he tried to give you a loving smile. Which you tried to return but in both of your expressions, there was too much pain. The people in the room went silent and the judge as well, everyone was taken aback by the horrors that played out on the screen.

~time skip~

Pedro opened the door of his car for you and helped you in. both of you were still lost for words after the video being played. Not only that, but you also saw how the people of your team die. It was a very hard day. The terrorist won’t be seeing the daylight ever in their life and you couldn’t care less about it right now. so many emotions going through you. “Why don’t we pick up some ice cream for at home?” Pedro softly asked you, both of you still not mentioned about what you said in the video. “Yeah, sure.” You told him and there was a thick silence again that you both felt. You looked over at Pedro who had tears in his eyes as he tried to concentrate on the way. You knew that this hit him very hard. You placed your hand gently on his and he looked over at you, trying to push his tears away. “I told you, I was thinking about you all the time. I just… I thought I was going to die and… and I didn’t want to go out without saying that I loved you. I needed you to know that.” Pedro parked on the side of the road and sniffled. He got out of the car without saying anything and it almost had sent you into a complete panic attack. He opened your door and you looked at him, afraid of what was to come.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you as he sat on his knees on the ground and held you tightly while some sobs escaped his own throat. His face was against your stomach, and you went with your fingers through his hair and held him tightly with your other arm. When he calmed down after a while, he sniffled. “I’m sorry. It’s different to really see it on video. I wanted to attack that guy so bad because of what eh has done to you. it made me furious and to hear you say, what you thought were your last moments. I just… it hit me that… that you wanted your last words….” He couldn’t finish it, but you knew what he meant. To direct your last words to him.

You cupped his cheeks and gave him for the first time in a very, very long time a genuine smile. He started laughing through his tears and put his arms around you in a big hug. “I love you too and there won’t be a day gone by without me saying that to you. I love you to the moon and back.” he kissed your head multiple times. “Like you said, we’ll get through this together.” Pedro smiled and held you tightly. “So how about that ice cream, and cuddles when we get home? We could watch a movie if you’d like?” he told you enthusiastic which made you smile, genuinely again. It hyped Pedro even more up to finally see that beautiful smile after 3 months. “That sounds very nice Pedge. I’d like that.” You told him and he drove off with a smile as he held your hand.

#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal stories #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #Pedro pascal fanfic #Pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal x y/n #Pedro pascal imagines #Pedro pascal angst #fanfiction angst #pedro pascal story #pedro pascal oneshot

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sunhreis · 2 years

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doodles from my twt side. also sorry for being inactive here i sometimes forget i have this account oops :((

#yantao #yanfei x hu tao #yantao fanart #yanfei #hu tao #yanfei gi #hu tao gi #yanfei fanart #hu tao fanart #genshin impact #genshin impact fanart #genshin fanart

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djdjdjmk · 11 months

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Oops forgot to post epic yarn here

Also sorry for being inactive, I've been in a hospital for a while also Im finishing up with some of my college exams, so I'll be back in a week or two!

#kirby #kirby epic yarn #prince fluff #mara #zeke #lomis woole #angie #beadrix #carrie #buster #dom woole

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rinslow · 3 months

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Sorry for the inactivity here! I find it really difficult to handle multiple socials at once, so a few end up being neglected for a while… oops…

I do hope to post here more! All the support for my art and stuff doesn’t go unappreciated I’m really really happy you guys enjoy my things!

Currently, I’m working on a preeeetty big project, it’s my biggest project yet and I hope I can share it with you guys! But for now, I think I’ll try my best to post more fanarts and personal work and OCs!

Once again, thank you all for your support and also patience!

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nightfallsystem · 2 years

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Nightfallsystem - Main blog. Plural System. cringe asf autistic and chronic pain haver. giant isopod enthusiast.

READ MY DNI AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS POST!!!

IF I FOLLOW U / REBLOG FROM U RANDOMLY / ACT LIKE WE'RE MUTUALS U PROBABLY FOLLOWED/INTERACTED ON MY BLOG @qiekz OR @qiekzart

‼️hi guys if ur reading this during october 2023 plz check out @qiekzart rn im doing a thing ✨✨

Check out my etsy plzzz :333 i post adoptables !!

My name is Qiekz, my pronouns are it/its, please use my actual preferred pronouns. For your DNI purposes please know I'm 14 ^_^ also no nsfw interaction or you will fucking die!! im also learning japanese! (please send help.... im dying..... grahh.. ive gone too far to quit its kind of my curse now.)

what to expect from this blog? random shit, this is my personal blog. there may be vents and rants (tagged as #vent and #rant respectively) there may be random shit there will be so many reblogs.

i try to add ids when i can into the alt text, though i have chronic pain so sometimes im too tired to, sorry

Special interests: Giant isopods, Yugioh 💀💀

interests: TBHK, manga and anime, servals, marine animals, suicide boy (critical of it...), made in abyss, (critical of it...) , japanese language ,, ... i forgor

FEEL FREE (i encourage you to!) TAG ME IN SHIT ABOUT MY INTERESTS!!! esp yugioh im really autistic about it o my god

#autistic about this thing tag <- will be me tagging shit im really autistic about!!

not really in discourse anymore other than transgender stuff so if you try to drag me into discourse ill drag you into the pits of hell. i fucking hate syscourse so much.

If i am not speaking and another system member is, the post will be tagged as "- [name]". I tag common triggers, flashing lights and eyestrain, etc, these will be tagged as "TW [topic]". also JSYK i block a fuck ton of people so like, yeah, I block anyone for any reason I want. I will also not unblock you. unless youre liek my friend or smth.

We have so many fictives sooo,, source list: TBHK, Omori, OneShot, Wolf Song the Movie (yknow, that one on youtube.), yugioh..... </3 .. sourcemates r cool to interact n stuff feel free to send an ask im just shy...

anon hate MUST be original no lame "kys" or "[slur]". i will judge you. try better. try harder. get good. if you send anon hate i will judge it and rate it out of 10 so please try your best.

i am weirdo fictionkin heres the list: hooni from suicide boy yayy,, faputa from made in abyss ( I FUCKING HATE THE SORUCE FOR BEING SO WEIRD OMFG AHGHH),, jolteon from pokemon. . im weird and fuckd up . much prefer if u dont rlly seperate me from me in sources. cuz i just am me. sorry. ig. just refer to me as me . thank you

I am critical of all of my interests!!

or more just i hate them agh just be normal omfgggg crying sobbing

if you wanna avoid a common trigger its most likely tagged #tw [topic]. i also tag eyestrain and flashing lights but usually i just tag it as "#eyestrain" or "#flashing". tbh i unfortunately cant be trusted to remember to tag any other specific trigger because of bad memory. i wont tag reclaimed slurs but i will tag slurs used in a mean way

Please do not DM me unless you actually really need to. Send me an ask if you want to DM me and specify that you want it answered privately if you want. but i AM UNCOMFY WITH DMS. unless we're friends or i DMed you first. otherwise i place a curse on you I MUCH prefer asks over DMs

Sideblog list

@omori-addict

@oops-all-traumacore (TW TRAUMACORE)

@sunnymogai (inactive)

@hellhoundmutt (inactive)

@sunnymogai2 (inactive)

@qiekz (EYESTRAIN + FLASHING TW please block if you are affected by that please)

@qiekzart

@tsukasabrainrot

alter blog 4 tasma:

@tazmahell

@tazmaboxed

DNI:

Anti plural, pluralphobe, anti endo, sysmed, against created alters/etc, "dont believe in systems",

Proship, condone or support posting any sexual stuff that includes a child, lolicon/shotacon/etc, someone purposely meant to look like a child, cub.

LGBTQphobic, transmed, transphobe/homophobe/biphobe/panphobe/etc, 'super straight'/variants, anti-ace inclusion, anti-aro inclusion, anti a-spec inclusion, aphobes, anti mspec lesbian/gay/etc, stelliophobic, anti lesboy/turigirl/etc, anti any good faith queer identity, anti neopronouns, anti xenogender, anti mogai.

Ableist, support autism speaks, think "narc abuse" is a thing/demonise people with any disorder including NPD, infantalise people with disorders/disabilities/etc, post/support on subreddits like r/fakedisordercringe or r/systemscringe, use the term "Aspergers" / describe urself as an "aspie" (Hans Asperger was a nazi who killed many disabled people, so shut the fuck up.)

Racist, cultural appropriators.

Radqueers, trans-id/transX, transrace/trace (not adoptee term), support the term transplural, pro-contact/contact-complex/contact-neutral for harmful paraphillia, sway people away from getting help for harmful paraphillia, MAP/Pedo/zoo/necro. (also transspecies is ok if its not used in a transX way)

Fujoshi/variants. fetishize mlm/wlw, etc.

Against traumacore / vent art.

Have minors on ur DNI (no offense im just a minor lol), NSFW-Focused blog

Post stolen art (includes AI images) / trace art without consent

other stuff is im neutral on factkin or kff tbh. and i think id rather stay neutral on tulpas as a term. i just dont fucking care. i dont involve myself in syscourse anymore, i might post more endogenic positivity later but id rather not due to the rampant harassment and infighting in the system community.

#pinned post

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sanguinaryrose · 8 months

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Miss Shadowsong? - An 8.3k word OC (Sorrel Sunstrider) x canon (Maiev Shadowsong) work.

What started as a short exercise kinda snowballed back in April/June, and I've been heavily procrastinating about posting it anywhere and finally have today. Oops on taking so long, but also meh. Starts off sad, but has a happy ending.

There's some Sindassi (original name for Thalassian) in there that I don't remember what it was but I'm pretty sure it was just sad sapphic noises.

Warnings include: Intoxication (consensual, causes a bout of anxiety, one chapter only, nothing too terribly important happens so feel free to scroll past it)

Chapters divided in the post, but posted all at once so have fun with this big boy.

... Maiev took in every curve of her body, the way her her face crinkled as she smiled while talking to her, the way she had smile lines, small crows feet, the bags under her eyes finally beginning to ease after so long of being stressed and worried...

Sorrel paced idly in front of the warden's cage, hugging herself and biting on her lip as tears threatened to stream down her face, the cold biting her soft, exposed skin. "Oh, it's horrible, Miss Shadowsong." Her captive audience rolled her eyes, "I don't-" "He dropped a mana bomb on a settlement- One that had nothing to do with what that monster did to us." Now that.. That caught Maiev's attention. "He what?" "There were civilians. All I could think was 'that was us, what are you doing, please stop' but I was stuck, in shock and.." Maiev's stomach sank. Were they Night Elves? Her wardens? Was- "And I felt afraid of him. I.. For the first time, felt afraid of my husband."

Sorrel stopped her pacing, idly messing with her hands for several long seconds before she turned to stare the Night Elf in the eyes. "Am I awful? For not stopping him? For feeling this way? For.." She looked down, exhaling sharply. "For being afraid of the man I promised to love?" It was a lot to chew on from a relative stranger, one who mocked your every word initially and one who so casually stood aside and let her husband's troops capture her and steal the victory she had so close straight from her hands. It raised the question- Was she bad? If Maiev had to decide, yes, she was, she was just as bad as Kael, inaction is just as bad as action here, but- "I know what you're thinking. You'd put me to death with him, wouldn't you?"

Maiev didn't respond. Not for disagreeing, mind you, but rather because she would. She would have the prince and his lady put to death for their crimes. "I.. I would too." Sorrel sighed, clutching her staff to her chest. "I'm sorry for burdening you with this." She turned her back, about to leave, only to get tugged back by her cape. "Hey!" She whipped around as much as she could, the caged watcher staring her down through her helm, her clawed gauntlets threatening to shred the cape. "Were they Night Elves." It wasn't a question but a demand, a threat, of if they were, Sorrel may not leave the cold, damp prison Illidan had locked her in. "No." A weight lifted off of Maiev's shoulders, though she did not release the priestess from her clawed grip and instead dragged her closer. "Let go." "No. Come here."

The warden's tone wasn't aggressive, but hushed and somewhat panicked. "Help me out of here, priestess." Sorrel swallowed nothing, her throat feeling particularly dry. "I can take you somewhere safe. Keep you away from the slipping insanity of those around you, keep-" "Maiev." Sorrel's voice was soft, doing her best to keep a steady tone, though the growing unease was likely able to be tasted by anyone in a 50 mile radius. "I can't." She unclipped her cape and turned to the warden, and with fear gripping her arm, trying to pull her away, took the night elf's armored hands in hers. "I.. Don't know why. But I think everyone's wrong here. I think you need to let Illidan go. I think Kael'thas needs to be taken out of power. I think Vashj needs to find a place away from here for her people, and I think Illidan needs to.. To man up. Do what he needs to do, return the temple to Akama and return to Azeroth. This isn't his world. He is but a false prince, just as Kael has become."

As Sorrel spoke, Maiev felt her throat closing, panic bubbling up in her, silently begging her to stay, to get her out, away from Illidan, away- "But I promise, Miss Shadowsong," She withdrew one of her hands from the warden's cage, the warmth and kind touch of another person disappearing nearly being enough to make the warden cry out, begging her to come back, to hold her once more. "I'll come back." In the warden's armored hand, Sorrel put a wrapped bushel of grapes. "Ration these- Carefully I don't know when I can come back next, and I figured you'd.. Go mad without decent food." She wasn't cruel. What Illidan wanted to do was awful and she couldn't keep her mind in tact in letting the warden live only through magic, and even then, only by the skin of her teeth. "I'll bring something different next time. Just.. Don't make anyone angry. Keep your head bowed and mouth shut, as much as it hurts. If I ever stop, assume someone found out or I'm.." She looked at the wall, almost distantly.

She bent down after releasing the warden's hands fully. "I'm sorry." Sorrel waved the warden off as she took the cape into her hands, "I just-" "Don't. I came to you asking an actual question, and you.." She didn't answer. "You gave me an answer- A nonverbal one, but.. I asked for it. Thank you." "No, it wasn't about that. For.." She sighed, unwrapping the grapes, inspecting them to get a change of scenery, if only temporarily. She had to eat them, after all, it was that or.. That or near starvation. "For grabbing you. I.. I'm sorry I scared you." "It's okay. I forgive you." She pat Maiev's shoulder before backing away. "I'm sorry I can't help more."

All of this, it raised the question in Maiev's mind once more, was the priestess bad? Or rather was she trapped in a bad situation, a web of evil people, unable to- "I'll see you soon, Maiev. Just don't make anyone angry."

Sorrel was only as confident as she was to slip to the Warden’s Cage after everyone had fallen asleep, save two select guards, Illidan’s most trusted, Ophelia, who she could easily pay off with high quality Quel’dorei alcohol, and the ever-vigilant Sinira, who Sorrel believed never slept and was also kind enough to keep her mouth shut. That was, unfortunately, the easier of the tasks. She had to sneak away from the progressively more paranoid Kael’thas, one, and two, sneak approximately two hours away- And that was while on the back of the maddened Raven Lord she had tamed whilst traveling to the Black Temple.

She was lucky- Much luckier than most. She was able to hold her confidence in the face of direct opposition, looking a demon in the eyes and saying she's on direct orders from Lord Illidan himself. The ride out took about two hours and the ride back would likely take a bit longer, but it was worth it to talk with someone who was at least somewhat sane, somewhat able to hold a coherent conversation with her.

She'd been sneaking to see Maiev for several weeks now, and she thought that, personally, they'd grown close. She'd consider her an acquaintance. As she stabled the Raven Lord, commanding him to sit, the priestess cast several spells to muffle any conversation Maiev and her had. "Miss Shadowsong?" She quietly called as she walked to the cell. The warden seemed to be asleep, and that was okay. It must be hard to sleep, and she didn't want to bother her if she didn't have to.

Using a simple teleport spell to, well, teleport the fruit of the week (three apples) into the Warden's cell, Sorrel felt more than pleased with them not exploding all over the prison and waking the watcher (and also making her to be an enemy against Illidan in his eyes.) She sat herself down on a nearby rock and rummaged through her bag before getting to work writing in a rune-touched journal in letters that simply did not exist- Something only her eyes could read.

Week 4 of interacting with Miss Shadowsong.

She's become more receptive to my kindness, less hostile as a whole towards me. Should I mention Kael'thas, Lady Vashj or Lord Illidan, she flips and becomes outwardly hostile, giving me short, curt, one word responses.

I've learned she had a partner of sorts ten thousand some-odd years ago who went by 'Sin.' I have reason to believe that 'Sin' is Sinira, due to what Sinira has told me in regards to a partner that she used to have who was 'but a shadow.' Normally, I love riddles, but these two are a bit much.

There was a quiet shift- The warden was just adjusting in her sleep, she supposed. She felt a bit uncomfortable seeing Maiev, even with her back turned, without most of her armor- Especially her helmet. She'd admittedly imagined her to look a fair bit different, and she didn't realize the fluff on the back of her helmet was her actual hair. She was much, much smaller than she'd imagined as well, and her hair was a stark white, just like her own. She'd never really seen a normal Night Elf before this, she'd realized, as she was mainly called in to tend to freshly transformed Demon Hunters, and Kael was careful to keep her away from battlefields, avoiding showing her corpses. She never was 'okay' in seeing corpses she couldn't redeem. She couldn't help but wonder if Maiev thought the same of her, being an outlier. Most Blood Elves by now had green eyes, and even before their reliance on fel, they had blue. She herself was an outlier- White eyes. Reliant on a higher power, rather than a lesser one. As for hair, most were shades of gold, red, and brown, but she had similarly white hair. Taking a small handful of her own hair, she compared it to Maiev's, at a squinty distance. Maiev's hair, it had more bluish undertones. Sorrel’s own hair, on the other hand, had.. A lack thereof.

I'm beginning to wonder if Maiev feels a sense of kinship with me as I do her. Of course, this is likely just projection. When I look at her, I see a sad reflection. Someone I could have easily become should I let rage guide my hands.

Sorrel's right ear swiveled slightly as she picked up on Anzu making disgruntled sounds while she wrote.

As I sit here, looking at Maiev's glaives less than a breath away from me, I wonder if I could protect myself like a Demon Hunter does. Like Maiev had to. I suppose that is what makes us- me, rather, so different from most on this world. I hold my head high regarding the fact that I've not harmed a single being in my life. Those like Illidan, even my husband now, they've had to kill to survive. Even Elves half my age have had to make the heavy call to take a life, but I've yet

"Priestess?" Maiev groaned, groggy and struggling to shake herself out of a deep sleep. "Yes, Miss Shadowsong?" "It is you." "It is." Maiev mumbled something Sorrel couldn't quite pick up before falling back asleep. Something about 'missing her company.' She could only hope her presence could help the watcher get some rest.

to be required to make that decision. I fear who I will become after I am forced to draw my first blood.

The priestess shut her journal momentarily, studying Maiev intently, how her sides rose and fell rhythmically with each breath she took. She never was a fantastic artist, but she wished she'd studied anatomy more. To try and show those she cares about how she sees them. Her words were beautiful, she thought, yes, but few can take their friends and loved ones and turn them into gorgeous paintings to hang upon their wall.

Before she could reopen her journal and get back to writing, Anzu began fussing about something or another. Odd. Anxiety bubbled up in Sorrel. It could so easily be nothing, but just as easily it could be something. She did her best to try and get a read on who it was. It wasn't Illidan or Kael or any Naga, nor was it a demon as she'd convinced them thoroughly (or so she thought) of her being sent by Illidan to keep an eye on Maiev.

She couldn't keep her anxiety down, and it wasn't easing up. Carefully moving into a hiding spot, Sorrel focused her energy onto Anzu, and then into seeing through his eyes.

It was one of the newer Demon Hunters. Sorrel sighed, briefly relieved, seconds before a new sense of dread filled her to her brim. Oh no. She scampered up the ramp out as fast as she could, meeting the freshly blinded hunter halfway, scaring her and her sighted sin'dorei escort. "AGH!" The Night Elf yelped, bounding several feet back like a startled cat. "You! And your bird! Agh!" She pat her chest several times, presumably to soothe the pounding in it. The sin'dorei was significantly less impressed. "I'll wait nearby when this.. Gets settled." She vaguely motioned to.. Well, everything. "What are you doing?" Sorrel questioned, gently turning the hunter towards her, rather than her bird.

"Oh! Um. Lord Illidan sent me to tend to the warden. 'Ensure Maiev does not get any smart ideas.'" She parroted, about to walk past the priestess. Sorrel immediately fell back on her days in school acting. Quirking a brow, Sorrel grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "What? That's-" She tilted her head. "That's odd. I think he's just forgotten he sent me here for the same reason." She thought she sounded sure. "Oh, okay! Oh.. Huh? Wait- He.. Forgot? Is his short term memory not so good anymore?" The blue haired demon hunter questioned, bringing her hand to her face with a head tilt. "Yeah, um.. He's just really stressed recently. Worrying a lot with new recruits and whatnot." "Ohhh.." She replied with a knowing nod. "I get it. Think it's that thing you've been talking about?" She questioned with a point.

"What? Post-Traumatic Stress?" "Yeah, that." "Oh, absolutely. Surviving a war, 10,000 years in a cage, finally being let out, and then going into another war.." She shook her head. "It's rough. Really rough." "Oourrgh. Yeah, that sounds bad. Alright! I'll let him know. Thanks for not chewing me ou-" "Wait! Don't!" Sorrel grabbed the stranger's arm, accidentally gripping a fresh tattoo, "Ow!" "Sorry! Um! Don't, though! Really, it's.." She let go of the hunter. "It's bad if you tell him he was wrong. Kael got into a shouting match with him for about an hour, some time ago." A complete truth, actually. "Just hang around outside the temple for a few hours." "Oh I think I heard the tail end of it. A few days ago, right?" "Yeah. Kael said he gave him the wrong times, Illidan said he didn't, Kael knew he was right, Illidan thought he was right.."

The night elf clicked her tongue, spinning around, about to call out to her companion. "Oh, hey, before I leave, what's your name? I know the voice, but, uh, not the name. Or face. But, I'm getting better with that magic sight!" She shot some gunfingers at Sorrel, a goofy grin on her face. "Oh! It's Sorrel. Sorrel Sunstrider." "Ohh, you must'a been that lady standing besides Kael'thas! It's nice to properly meet you, Sorrel!" "It's nice to meet you too, uhh…" "-more." The hunter interrupted. "More?" "No! Uhh-more. Amoure!" "Ohh! That's a beautiful name, Miss Amoure." "Thanks! Anyway, I'll see ya." Giving Amoure a polite wave off and a soft Sindassi send off, Sorrel returned to her position, unable to shake the frightened expression.

"Priestess?" Maiev spoke up, now fully armored, reaching for a glaive that wasn't there. "What happened?" She certainly worked quick. "It was just a hiccup. Don't worry." She motioned towards the iron maidens, "I put your food in there?" Maiev briefly looked excited, initially going to try the gate, before realizing what she meant. "Magic?" "Yes ma'am." Maiev sighed, unable to mask her disappointment. "I appreciate it. What are they, this time?" She asked, a rhetorical question as she reached into the maiden, pulling out the bundled fruit. "The Botanica is coming along well. Kael'thas has me try every fruit once it's deemed safely edible." Maiev hummed, piercing the flesh of one of the apples with her gauntlet, taking her helmet off to take a bite from the fruit. On instinct, Sorrel looked away. "Sorry-" She swallowed. "Does it bother you seeing people eat?"

"No! No, it isn't that, just.. It feels like I'm seeing someone nude, when I look at you without your armor. When you were asleep, I tried not to look too much. I made sure you were alive, mind you, but." She cleared her throat, uncomfortable. Maiev snorted, going at the apple. "What did you talk about up there?" "Oh, it was just a bit of confusion. A demon hunter came when Illidan sent me." "In that case, why did you look so worried?" "Would you be scared if a volatile, powerful man were to be told he was wrong?" Maiev stopped chewing, thought for a moment, and eventually replied with a simple, "Good point." She'd finished the apple soon enough, and tossed the core in Sorrel's field of vision, the priestess casting a quick spell to all but disintegrate the thing in holy fire.

"You were asleep for some time, so.." She packed her things, keeping an eye on the ramp. "I do need to go earlier than usual." Maiev nodded. "You will come back though. Right?" "Have I missed a meeting yet?" "Right?" "Yes, Miss Shadowsong. I'll be back." She nodded, waving the warden off. "Stay safe." Sorrel whispered over her shoulder with a small, bashful wave, before leaving the warden's sight, a view that never failed to fill the Night Elf with immeasurable dread.

Maiev had been struggling particularly hard to not snap at and lash out at Illidan or his lackeys when they next came to gawk and cackle at her like hyenas. Ophelia especially bothered her, as she'd often run her horns along the bars that kept her trapped. How she wanted to saw all of their horns off. The only solace was her.

Quiet and elegant, full of grace. She was what came to mind when Maiev thought of a priestess. Hearing the familiar sound of Sorrel casting silence spells filled her heart with a sense of excitement and peace. "Priestess?" Maiev called as Sorrel began making her way down the ramp. "I'm here, Miss Shadowsong." If she had a tail, she'd be wagging it like mad. "I am glad to see you, priestess." Sorrel's expression was distant. She looked upset, and as Maiev processed her face, her excitement dropped.

"Priestess Sunstrider..?" Maiev had never used her surname before, and Sorrel sighed on hearing it. Sitting herself down on the rock she used as a seat to spend time with Maiev, the priestess stared blankly at the wall. "Kael'thas said he was done." Momentarily, Maiev got excited. Did that mean Sorrel would be more willing to let her out? To- "We're leaving soon. Something happened, Miss Shadowsong." Sorrel's bad ear was weaker than usual, and her cryptic words weren't helping the growing dread. "Eredar are such vile creatures." Sorrel stared the warden's glaive down. Maiev wished she could get inside the priestess' head, wished she could understand what was going on. "I don't know when or if I can come back, but." Sorrel got up, holding a bag positively stuffed with various fruit, passing it to the warden through the bars. "I enchanted all of these myself. They'll never go bad. I'll try to teleport food to you, but I don't know if I'm strong enough. Tempest Keep is.. So far away."

Maiev's stomach sank, she wanted to vomit, to cry and beg her to stay, to not leave her to the wolves, how helpless she felt in being forced to rely on someone else for her sanity. How positively angry she felt at Sorrel for not releasing her, for not fighting to stay, for- "Please don't leave me here." ..Damnit. Sorrel sighed, crossing her arms. "I.. I wish I could get you out. But I can't. I have three young children to tend to, and in letting you out, I'd be putting a target on Kael and my children's backs."

Maiev reached through the bars and took a small handful of Sorrel's hair in her hands. It was the closest the two had ever been since their first interaction- If Sorrel had stepped any closer, they'd be breathing one another's air. It was the first time Maiev had been able to catch what Sorrel smelled like and in spite of everything, she managed to smell absolutely resplendent. "Are you sure?" Maiev asked, releasing the priestess' hair. "There is nothing that can be done? Y-You are unable to say something to convince Kael'thas to stay? To-" "I'm sorry. I.. There's nothing I can do. He's dead set on getting away." She swallowed around nothing as Sorrel spoke, unable to stop her bottom lip from quivering. "Please don't go." Sorrel took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Maiev." "Sorrel?" She whispered, trying to will her to stay, to come back and hold her and-

As the priestess retreated she stole one more glance back at the warden, who was freely crying beneath the helmet, though her posture dare not show it. "I'm so sorry. If you get out.. Please come find me at Tempest Keep. It's in the Netherstorm. I won't forget you. Thank you, for.. Listening." She didn't want to linger, Maiev supposed, as she quickly walked up the stairs, recognizing the rhythmic thumping of her mount carrying her away.

Maiev didn't quite recover emotionally from Sorrel leaving. It'd been several weeks, and she kept one fruit in particular. A single peach, it was the closest smell to Sorrel's, and it was the one thing that kept her from losing her mind.

Demon hunters came and went, some joined by their horns, some alone. She overheard plenty of conversations. Most of them went in one ear and out the other, mostly disinteresting to the warden, but one caught her attention. Filled her with dread and made her re-find her voice.

"Did you hear about Tempest Keep?" A hunter asked, making Maiev focus in on the conversation. "Yeah. Heavy stuff. You don't think Lord Illidan is at risk too, do you? And, man, poor Sorrel." Poor Sorrel? "Illidari." She rumbled, the first word spoken in months, something that startled both demon hunters. "So you're not dead!" The larger of the two, a havoc one, she supposed, spoke. The lesser of the two hushed him, approaching Maiev. "What is it, Shadowsong?" Her arms were crossed as her whip-like tail idly lashed. "What of the priestess, Kael'thas' wife?" "..You mean Sorrel? How do you know her?" "We briefly interacted on Azeroth." "..Right." The Illidari turned. "She's around. Illidan keeps her close. Convinced he needs to watch her- Convinced he-"

Maiev's arms shot out from behind the bars of her cell, dragging the demon hunter close by her tail and wing. "You!" Maiev pointed towards the larger Illidari, who was now stanced up, unsure of what to do, mostly. "Tell Illidan to send Sorrel here now or else." "You can't hurt me!" The woman scoffed, about to pull away, quickly eating her words as the watcher switched her grip from her arms to her throat. "Maiev- We can't make him do anyth-" She was interrupted by a warning squeeze, cutting her off.

"Send for the priestess." Maiev repeated, her hands shaking. "Now." "I'll call your bluff." She replied. "I can smell and feel your fear. Sorrel's so deeply against violence, Maiev." The warden's hands were so deeply unsteady now. "It'd be awful for her. After watching her husband die, seeing his corpse, having to see one of her friends near-death at the hands of the Maiev Shadowsong." Maiev let go of the Illidari, snarling obscenities under her breath. The hunter quickly ripped away from her and dashed to the other end of the space. "I'm telling Illidan about this." The larger of the two said, ascending the ramp. The lesser of the two nodded, settling herself on the ramp herself, watching Maiev like a vulture as she began to pace, quick to lose herself in her thoughts.

She would get out of there. Sorrel had asked her to find her, and by Elune she swore she would. Illidan would not crush the one good thing on this forsaken world, the one good thing she had left in her life. She swore it.

Sorrel shook. She was convinced to try smoking some by a few demon hunters while they ate, and she took maybe a hit or two too many. She quickly scurried to her quarters, shutting the door and exhaling a shaky breath as she dispelled any light producing magic, bathing the room in darkness. She didn't even notice the figure standing by the door as she shut it, crawling into her bed and laying flat on her back, her arms stiff at her sides as her chest rose and fell in a way indicating dread or anxiety or some form of unadulterated fear.

Maiev didn't have time to make her presence known before there was a rhythmic knock-knock-knocking at the door. "Sorrel?" "Sinira?" "Are you alright? You ran off pretty quick once it started to hit." Honestly, she wasn't okay. She was freaking out. Sorrel couldn’t muster a proper response, not for several seconds. “Um..” She breathed, slowly bringing a hand to her face. “I will be..?” “Okay, hon, well..” Sinira opened the door, approaching the priestess’ bed slowly. Maiev felt the blood drain from her face. She prayed to Elune, to whatever higher power that this wasn’t actually Sinira. That she didn’t threaten the previous love of her life with death, that she didn’t side with Illidan of all elves, that- “I brought you some cake and water.” Sorrel slowly sat up, her ears pinned back more than they usually were, even when she was upset or stressed. “I just wanted to make sure you got to try some. Also, you.. Really need to drink, especially when panicking.”

Sorrel nodded, unable to find her voice to say ‘thank you’, though she did mouth the words. “You’re more than welcome, High Priestess. I’ll check on you in the morning.” She backed away from Sorrel, and turned to the door and froze. Maiev’s heart might as well have stopped there, and clearly Sinira was shocked with what she was seeing as well. Neither of them moved. They both clearly saw each other. Taking a deep breath, Sinira turned back to Sorrel. “I’m going on an extended hunting trip starting tomorrow. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

Rather than acknowledge Maiev, Sinira quietly let herself out of the room and quickly walked away from the Priestess’ private quarters. Sorrel picked at the cake with the fork that Sinira had provided, though she found it difficult to find her appetite, even with the munchies driving her forward in even considering eating. She was going to drink though. She remembered clearly how often Kael’thas had to remind her to drink because she’d gotten so terribly fixated on writing or reading. It was something that gave her a sense of comfort, it was simple and comforting and something that reminded her of better times, before everything.

Putting the cake to the side, Sorrel slowly lowered herself onto her side, moving in ‘slow motion’, fearful that should she move too fast, something would break. But even as her anxieties grew higher and higher, she had a bout of inspiration. This was a very similar sensation, it hit her, as to when she’d eaten some special brownies that Fraeja had made, and it also made her realize that this wasn’t the first time she’d gotten too high. She got up, rubbing her arms, briefly pacing about her room, before laying back down. She’d remember it, she promised herself. A letter, she’d write, to Maiev. And Kael and everyone she loved but couldn’t express it to.

Her hands were cold. She was cold and frightened and- “Priestess.” “Yes, Miss Shadowsong?” She replied on instinct, squeezing her eyes shut. It was a dream. A dream, please, just let it be a dream. Just let it be a peaceful dream, giving her the chance to talk to her. “Are you alright?” The bed shifted behind her. “I’m afraid.” “Of what?” Sorrel thought, for several seconds. “Of Illidan.” She spoke after far, far too long. “He hasn’t hurt me. But I fear when I no longer appear as useful to him. When he deems me a threat to his position as the Lord of Outland, if- When he finds out I’m..” She began trembling. “I’m your friend. You can’t protect me from him. Kael’thas can’t protect me from him.” Maiev’s stomach sank. Sorrel had been disheveled before around her, startled and in shock, but never properly afraid.

Maiev put her hand on Sorrel’s shoulder, the priestess letting out a shaky breath. “Before Kael’thas..” She cleared her throat. “Passed away. I began thinking. I don’t want to be called a blood elf. I.. Can’t carry that weight on my shoulders. I love and respect and can’t begin to thank those who fell protecting Silvermoon, but.. What about the innocents? Those whose blood was spilled because they simply happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Their blood, it shouldn’t be worn as a symbol of respect or pride, it should be given a quiet place to rest, a quiet-” She shook her head, getting up and grabbing the cup of water, downing half of it in a few gulps. “A quiet.. Safe rest. Away from the bloodshed. Away from the painful memories of what happened to them.” Sorrel had never been quite so heavy before, and it hurt Maiev to hear her inner thoughts, to hear how her anxiety only worsened since she last saw her. “Well you can’t very well be a night elf.” She replied, flat. It made Sorrel giggle, something that made Maiev’s stomach swell with pride in knowing she had made her smile in such a dark moment, knowing that she had made her giggle even. She wanted to hear it more.

“Of course I can’t. I was thinking of just referring to myself as a high elf. I considered sun elf, but..” She snickered. “It’d be a lonely existence. And a bit on the nose. I wonder if any of Kael’s ancestors thought about calling themselves that.” Was she crying? Sorrel raised a hand to her face and sighed. “I wish we could’ve met on better terms. Maybe if I were born over 10,000 years ago and also was a night elf, I could’ve done something to make a change. Save you from chasing Illidan.” Maiev’s heart broke damn near in two at the sentiment. “You wouldn’t want to do that, Priestess.” Sorrel hummed. “I disagree. I didn’t like seeing you all caged up. You know, the whole location was actually.. Named after you. It was called the Warden’s Cage.”

Maiev frowned. “I wasn’t aware, no.” Sorrel sighed. “It wasn’t right. Two wrongs never make a right. It shouldn’t have been you being punished alongside Illidan. It could’ve been Tyrande. It could’ve been Malfurion. It didn’t have to be you.” The watcher couldn’t find the words to reply. Sorrel waited for several seconds, before continuing. “It could’ve been anyone. It could’ve been split into shifts. You shouldn’t have effectively become his sole babysitter for ten thousand years. Do you know how long that is for someone like me?” Sorrel rolled onto her back, watching the ceiling. “The oldest elf in all of Quel’thalas died recently. Kael’s father, and he was 3,000. That’s considered senior for us. I think he should’ve retired, let Kael become king, but Kael was happier in Dalaran, and he never recalled my prince.”

As Sorrel ran her mouth, Maiev took in her appearance. For the first time, unobscured, up close and personal, Maiev had a chance to study the high elf. She had pure white hair, beautiful, freckle-kissed skin and a gorgeous face. Her personality was just the cherry on top, frankly. “Do you regret anything, Maiev?” The watcher was taken aback by the sudden question, as she was admittedly lost in the tones and hums the priestess made as she talked to herself. “I..” She couldn’t think of anything off of the top of her head that wasn’t related to her anger with tending to Illidan for as long as she did. “I stopped seeing my first betrothed because of Illidan.” Sorrel hummed. “They must’ve been lucky.” “How do you mean?” “Well.. You’re you. You’re a good listener, to start. Even if it’s because you’ve no choice, you still retained what I told you.”

Even if it was just a dream or daydream, it was comforting. It made her anxiety start to subside and gave her the ability to begin drifting off. The two chatted off and on for several hours and not once did Sorrel open her eyes, though towards the end of their discussion, when Sorrel was struggling to form sentences, she rolled onto her side, facing away from the warden. “I’m sure in actuality, it’s just Al’ar in bed with me. But I need to ask-” She yawned, pulling her pillow into her arms. “If you’re real.. Would you hold me? Please? I just.. Can’t sleep alone. Not anymore.”

Maiev knew she’d have a hard couple of days moving forward. This simple act of kindness, even if it was per Sorrel’s request, would be good for both of them, she thought, as she put her arms around the priestess. “Ow.” Sorrel mumbled, shifting away. “Your armor hurts.” “Sorry.” She wasn’t comfortable taking it off- Not so close to Illidan and where an Illidari could hypothetically walk in at any moment. “I’ll do it one day.” Maiev finally spoke, unprompted. “But you need to wait.” “Okay.”

“Promise?” Sorrel pulled her blankets over herself. Snuggling into them, the priestess looked positively at peace. “I promise.” And it, just like coming to find her, was a promise she wouldn’t be quick to break. Especially not to someone who’s shown her such unadulterated kindness, not requesting anything more than a hug and a promise through it all.

Ophelia had all but commanded Sorrel to ‘stay put’ in her room, with her children as soon as Illidan took note of troops from the Alliance and Horde banding together to try and storm the temple. Illidan had sent most of his hunters off on a mission, one to try and secure a demonic ship from what Sorrel could understand. As she sat with her children behind her, crouching while facing them, her body acting as a shield if need be, she kept her head on a constant swivel around her room, especially when the footfalls of no less than 20 men approached her quarters. Her heart might as well have stopped as she felt the surges of magic flowing throughout the temple as Illidan took his final stand, and just as quickly as she had felt it, she felt something worse, something much more frightening.

Nothing. Those footfalls came and went once more. And after so long, one pair of footsteps approached and stopped. Sorrel wrestled her cape off and put it over her children, wielding a tome Kael’thas had once given her in case of an emergency. “Priestess?” A familiar voice called out. She didn’t know what to do. “Miss Shadowsong?” She answered, before the door slowly creaked open.

On the edge of the frame, she saw the familiar gauntlets of Maiev though she dare not believe it to be her until she let herself into the room, several Night Elves awkwardly standing around behind her. “Are you alright?” Sorrel felt tears well up in her eyes. “What did you do, Miss Shadowsong?” Maiev acknowledged the 3 smaller elves and nodded for Sorrel to follow her. “..My children will be alright. Right?” “No harm will come to them, or you.” Sorrel backed towards the children and steadied herself before she faced them. “These nice women will keep you safe. Okay?” She chirped, holding her hands out for a pinky swear. The older of the two linked pinkies wordlessly and huddled closer to one another as she rose to her feet and turned to face Maiev, following the warden through the temple.

Maiev did her best to keep her focused on her, but it was impossible to not acknowledge the carnage as she approached the pinnacle. “Oh.. Oh, Maiev. What did you do?” “This.. Was not my work.” Unfortunately, she silently added. “Heroes of the Horde, Blood Elves, Orcs, Tauren, Undead, they did this.” Sorrel got cold feet as she approached the pinnacle. The scent of blood was thickly hanging in the air and what remained of Illidan’s magic was fleeting.

“His hunters were captured.” Maiev knew the pained expression meant she knew Illidan was no more. “Do I have your blessing to say goodbye? To Illidan, to..” She motioned vaguely. “Yes. But I ask you cast no spells until we return to the Broken Isles.” Sorrel tilted her head. “We?” Maiev rested her hand on Sorrel’s shoulder. “I will not cast a mourning mother away. Your children, are they..” “No. Kael’thas and I never had a chance to..” She cleared her throat. “I was tending to them until I could get them to Silvermoon safely.” Maiev nodded, thinking on what to do in regards to this before softly asking, “Do you want them to come to the Broken Isles with us?” “No, I.. I don’t think it’d be good for them. They need to grow up around Blood Elves. Know where they come from.”

“Give me some time to think, I’ll have to figure out how to get them back safely. Say your goodbyes. You deserve it.” Even if they do not, she thought.

Sorrel took deep breaths as she ascended to the pinnacle. Akama offered her a polite nod, and she returned in kind. The broken had been a voice of reason in her darkest moments and often counseled her when she needed guidance her faith could not provide alone. “I am sorry.” He started, taking in a deep, almost pained sounding breath, though the priestess quickly cut him off. “No, Akama. You did nothing wrong. He was mad. His insanity was destroying a place that should’ve been a safe haven for you and yours, something of beauty. He lied to you. I am sorry you had to tolerate it for so long. If you ever need help in this- All of it, cleansing the temple, cleaning this up, I’ll stay until-” “No, High Priestess. I cannot ask that of you. Thank you for the offer.” Sorrel nodded. “You’re welcome. Thank you for your kindness, Akama.”

Akama said something in Eredun, a kind of ‘you’re welcome and blessings to you’ Sorrel had learned, before taking his leave to spread the news of Illidan’s defeat to his people, leaving the Watchers to clean the mess that Illidan had made. Sorrel didn’t want to see him. But she knew she had to. To close this dark, bloody chapter of her life and try to make a new one.

As she approached Illidan’s crumpled form, all she could focus on was him, she didn’t even initially take note of the Illidari surrounding them. “Oh, Illidan.” She sighed, getting on her knees by his head, stroking his head like a mother to a child who just had a nightmare. “Perhaps now, you’ll find peace.” She leaned forward and rested her head against his. “You don’t need to run or fight anymore. You can rest.”

As she rose to her feet, her stomach sank seeing the trapped faces of those she’d loved, laughed with. None hurt her more than Ophelia, though, her beloved. Her voice was shaky as she approached the night elf, who looked as though she could’ve been sleeping. “Anar.. n'dath a'asto're ethala osa. N'dath osa neph'o ishura lo anar alah anoduna su shar shari'adune. Anoduna su tal anar osa andu tal anu, anoduna su t'ase'mushal. Do ri adore.”

Maiev quirked a brow. She’d never heard most of these words past the last three she uttered. ‘Do ri adore.’ “Why are you-” One of her women put a hand on her arm, shaking her head, cutting the warden off.

As she took in the rest of the Illidari, she recognized many faces. But one was missing- Among all of the men and women she counted, she couldn’t find Sinira. “Maiev?” She wasn’t sure what she was going to say as the warden made her way to her side, uncomfortably hovering a hand over her shoulder. She wanted to tell her about the missing demon hunter. But when she spoke- “I’m ready.” Was all she could muster.

Maiev sighed, pulling Sorrel close. “It may not feel it.” Sorrel started, losing her arms under Maiev’s cloak as she wrapped them around the warden. “But.. I think you’ll find a new hunt soon enough. There is always evil in the world.” She looked up towards the warden, who was staring intently at Illidan’s body. “Your story does not need to end with him, as much as the world seems to want it to. Just like my story will not end with Kael’thas, despite my affiliation with him condemning me to death alongside him.”

The warden nodded, not really processing the priestess’ words, before releasing her. “Go to your children and pack your things. I’ll send watchers to escort you shortly.” Sorrel replied with a quiet ‘okay’ and left the pinnacle, leaving the watcher to her thoughts and Illidan’s body.

It’d been several days since Sorrel had fully settled into her quarters in the Vault of the Wardens after unpacking everything. Maiev had been awkward, initially. Not in the same way she’d been when they first began interacting but in a new way. Sorrel thought she recognized it, but she didn’t want to assume things. Assuming things is why so many awful, awful things had happened in her interpersonal life.

“Miss Shadowsong?” Sorrel cooed from outside of the warden’s private quarters. “Priestess?” Maiev replied. Taking it as the ‘it’s alright to let herself in’ signal, Sorrel sat down on the warden’s bed by her. She was reading, and as much as the Sorrel had wanted to be nosy, it was in Kaldorei. She had never quite understood it, despite the similarities to Quel’dorei. “Did you know that I’m a sin-eater?” Maiev raised a brow, shutting her book. “What?”

Sorrel faked a gasp, “And here I was pouring my heart out to you while you were in that cell! I remembered so much about you, and yet-” She dramatically fell back onto Maiev’s bed, covering her face, “You won’t even remember that? How cruel, Warden Shadows-” “Hey! I’ll have you know you never mentioned that!” Sorrel snickered, pulling herself back up. “I know. I just wanted to see if you knew that.”

Maiev was relieved she was wearing her armor, because her face certainly felt much warmer than usual. Being able to breathe easily so close to Sorrel, to touch her, to- “So, sin-eating is a bit of a ritual of sorts.” “What happens during it? Can you perform it for me?” “No, and I hope to never have to.” Maiev initially felt hurt, before she realized what she’d said entirely. “Wait, why?” “Well, sin eating, I suppose it’s a high elf thing. I was the only priestess willing to become one. So, after someone dies, we get these big feasts set up after the funeral. I approach the body and eat from the feast laid out before them by taking the food over the body- Like,” She put her hand on Maiev’s chest and pushed her onto her back, adjusting to be kneeling at her side. “Like, pretend you’re a body for this, right?” She took Maiev’s book and set it adjacent to her. “I take the food from one side of the body,” She set the book in her lap. “To myself. And eat it. And in doing so,” She helped Maiev sit back up. “I eat their sins. It’s a super spiritual thing.”

Maiev’s brain was shot in being touched so kindly by Sorrel and she was kicking herself for wearing her armor at all- If she’d just been willing to relax without it for just a few moments she’d have been able to feel her in a way she’d never felt her before, in a way she’d been longing for. “Unfortunately, it made most of my people deathly terrified of me. Save the two Sunstriders, their advisors and my family, most of the High Elven society greatly shunned and feared me in day-to-day life.” “Why?” “Well, I didn’t absolve them of their sins, right? I ate them. And, according to our beliefs, as a result, I carry their sins on my shoulders. No one called upon me for weddings- Only funerals. It was a lonely life, but, well, I was always a shy person,”

As Sorrel spoke, Maiev took in every curve of her body, the way her her face crinkled as she smiled while talking to her, the way she had smile lines, small crows feet, the bags under her eyes finally beginning to ease after so long of being stressed and worried, the- “Y’know. Growing up looking so different compared to my peers. It’s a bit tragic, but this isn’t about that.” “I want to hear about it.” “Sure, but after I- Wait. Really?” Sorrel tilted her head, blinking several times and looking up at the watcher like a confused dog, head tilt and all. She perked up a fair bit. “Really?” She repeated. “Of course. Just- Finish talking about sin-eating first.” “Oh, right. So, uh, I only really got called out for funerals. I made sure they were beautifully taken care of- See, I used to have this garden I tended to. Before eating the sins of someone, I’d give them a flower from it.” “What flowers did you grow?” “Oh, jeez, let me.. Think for a second.” As she scrunched her face up to think, Maiev could feel a certain swelling in her heart, one that made her put her hand over her armored chest. It drew Sorrel out of her thoughts. “Are you alright?” “Yes- Just. Continue?” Sorrel watched the warden’s movements carefully for several seconds, and determined she was probably just emotional after everything. Again, trying not to assume anything.

“Well, I grew five types in all sorts of different colors. Lilies, carnations, gladioli, roses and dahlias. It was up to the family to choose a color, but if they didn’t want to, I’d ask the youngest involved to pick their favorite color. I’d also give any kids a flower to try and, y’know, make it not as.. Awful for them.” Maiev nodded, hung up on every word she spoke, every syllable. She was relieved to see Sorrel so comfortable talking to her and just relaxing around her. It made her feel better about everything. It made her feel better about herself.

“So, I’d take them a flower, have them hold it, and eat their sins, offer my condolences to the family, then go home. When I went to train my magic prowess at Dalaran, I took a break from being a Sin-Eater, but those who knew me, they kept their distance. I was okay, though. I had Kael, and I was happy, even if it was well before we were seeing each other.” Sorrel laid down, looking at the warden like she was a shooting star, gorgeous and with a power she would never fully understand. “Your armor is gorgeous, by the way. I’m not sure if I ever said that.” “..Yeah?” Maiev replied, contemplating if she should take it off and be more casual with her friend or not. “Yeah. It’s..” Sorrel looked for the words before settling on a simple, gentler comparison. “Whenever I see your armor in particular, it makes me feel safe. It makes me feel like I can retreat into something and be protected.”

Elune stop her beating heart. Maiev’s face was red under her helmet. She felt hot- Properly hot- And wasn’t sure what to do. She wanted to cool off, but she didn’t want to- “Oh, right, you wanted to hear about my tragic loneliness, right?” “That’s correct.” “Oh, Maiev, you don’t need to be so formal all the time. To me you’re not a warden. You’re a good friend. Especially right now.” She pat Maiev’s leg and Maiev begged Elune to make Sorrel keep her hand there, begged her to- She withdrew it and laid on her side by the watcher. “So.. It’s not really as sad as I make it out to be. Don’t get me wrong, kids are awful, and I stuck out like a sore thumb, so it was especially awful..”

Sorrel and Maiev (mostly Sorrel) talked on and on, well until the moon had risen into the sky, peeking in through the window in Maiev’s quarters. Sorrel watched the moon, now settling into a calm silence with the warden. “Miss Shadowsong?” Sorrel asked. “Priestess?” Maiev replied, taking note of how especially gorgeous Sorrel looked in the moonlight. She looked beautiful in the sunlight, yes, but in the moon she looked like an angel- A proper angel. Her hair reflecting light like a halo, her eyes being moondrops themselves.. “Would you want to come to my room tonight?” She hesitantly put her hand on Maiev’s. “..Spend the night with me?”

Maiev’s mouth went dry. She sat in silence for several seconds, studying Sorrel’s face to see if it was a joke, a lie, a way to humiliate her as she had been before by cruel women and men in her life, but she detected no such thing in Sorrel’s expression, in her words. “Are you sure?” Maiev answered, her voice soft, quiet, filled to the brim with fear of an answer she would not like. “I’m positive. I’d love to share a bed with you, Maiev.”

Thank you for reading this far! Sin eating is a real thing btw it's very cool.

#fanfic #world of warcraft #maiev shadowsong #oc x canon #canon x oc #Technically. TECHNICALLY. she's a SI of sorts. But I consider her more an OC :>#Intoxication #lesbian #bisexual #wlw

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