#he has such an imploring and curious gaze

[shirkers2018dirsanditan]

winston is SOOO cute i can’t stop looking at him like how are you even real!!!!

#his dark eyes and his pretty cream colored fur hes such a handsome little dog #he has such an imploring and curious gaze #i LOVE him so much 🥹

[nayziiz]

Team Dynamics | LN4

Summary: To celebrate the launch of their 2024 car for the upcoming F1 season, McLaren hosts a masquerade gala event that sees two souls connect and lead to a whirlwind romance. Unfortunately, the pair realise soon after that they are to work together quite closely after they agreed it would only be a one-night thing.

Warnings: Smut, alcohol, one night stand, unprotected sex

Pairing: Gemma (I don't like writing with Y/N or reader) x Lando Norris

Series Masterlist

PART 1

Gemma, with a noticeable waddle in her step, turns a corner, seeking refuge from the lively atmosphere that surrounds her. As she enters the quiet corridor, a sense of relief washes over her, and she releases a heartfelt sigh. The toll of the night is evident in her tired feet, which ache from hours of navigating the bustling venue, and her head throbs with the echoes of the lively event.

In the serenity of the corridor, Gemma's gaze is drawn to a lone figure at the far end. The dimly lit hallway casts a subtle glow on the scene, and she cautiously approaches the person who seems to be in a similar pursuit of solace. A young man, casually sipping from his glass of champagne, leans against the wall with a relaxed demeanour. One of his legs is pulled up to his chest, adding a nonchalant touch to his posture.

As Gemma draws closer, her footsteps echoing softly in the stillness, she notices the man's gaze lifting from his drink to meet her eyes. Despite the masks concealing their faces, a silent connection is forged as their eyes lock in mutual recognition. A subtle smile graces the young man's lips, a spontaneous reaction to Gemma's presence. However, he momentarily forgets that his mask obscures the brightness of his smile.

“You know, it bothers me too sometimes.” Gemma comments, out-of-the-blue.

“What?” Lando responds, confused by her statement.

“If you’re not supposed to eat at night, why would the refrigerator have a light in it?” Gemma explains, attempting a joke to ease the man’s tension.

“That’s, uhm, that’s going to haunt me now, thank you for that.” Lando laughs as he beckons for her to sit down next to him.

“I can’t be the only one who has sleepless nights over it.” Gemma continues to joke as she leans against the wall beside him.

Lando continues to chuckle at her half-hearted attempt to lighten his dark mood. But, it worked and he was feeling lighter by just laughing.

“So, why are you hiding down a mysterious hallway?” Lando wonders as he looks up and down the hallway.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Gemma counters.

“People.” Lando sighs. “Too many people.”

“Hmm. Yeah, same.” Gemma laughs. “But, moreso my shoes.”

Lando peers down and spots a pair of high heels on her red and swollen feet.

“Yeah, those don’t look very comfortable.” Lando agrees, his eyes drifting up from her feet all the way back to her eyes.

“You’re welcome to give them a try.” Gemma suggests, a smile forming on her lips as she continues to tease him.

“I’ll leave that to the professional.” Lando counters with a chuckle.

The two sit in silence for a minute or two as they stare at the Victorian wallpaper on the wall across from them. Gemma turns her head slightly towards Lando.

“You know what else is quite weird.” Gemma starts.

“Tell me.” Lando implores, curious to see what else leaves her lips.

“That you’re overwhelmed by all these people and instead of leaving, you choose to sit in this hallway.” Gemma states.

“I can’t really leave, to be honest with you.” Lando shrugs. “I can say the same about you, considering how painful your feet look.”

“Hey, beauty is pain they say.” Gemma argues, mocking him. “So, what? Is your date inside talking to all the rich folk, is that why you can’t leave?”

“Nice way to ask if I’m single.” Lando chuckles again.

“Not asking, dear. I’m just looking for some drama to spice up the night a bit.” Gemma counters, almost pouting as she looks at him.

“There’s no date. Or girlfriend, for that matter.” Lando explains. “Just lost hopes and dreams.”

“That’s depressing.” Gemma sighs and leans her head against the wall behind her.

“Now your turn.” Lando beckons, waiting to hear her explanation as to why she was in the hallway too.

“Just like you, I cannot leave. I’m here for work purposes, so I’ll stick around and enjoy the open bar until they ask me to leave.” Gemma explains, holding up her glass of wine in the air.

“I see, so you work for McLaren?” Lando wonders, taking another sip of champagne.

“You guessed correctly.” Gemma nods.

“And, what is it that you do?” Lando continues.

“I’m a data analyst in the simulator department.” Gemma explains.

“So, you have an indirect influence on how the season will turn out?” Lando asks.

“I guess you could say so. I use the data from the driver’s simulators so the mechanics can change what’s necessary on the car, so yeah, maybe a little.” Gemma responds.

“That’s pretty cool.” Lando breathes, a smile teasing his lips.

“And, you? I assume you work for McLaren too since you can’t just up and leave?” Gemma queries.

Lando turns to her and smiles, a chuckle escaping his lips. He realised that she didn’t know who he was, or at least didn’t recognize him with his mask on. He quickly removes his mask to reveal his sweet smile, completely taking Gemma by surprise.

“Lando. I’m one of the drivers. Nice to meet you.” Lando states.

“Obviously, you’re one of the drivers.” Gemma counters with a joking eye roll before removing her own mask too. She’s beautiful with green pools for eyes and full lips.“Gemma. Nice to meet you, Lando.”

“At some point we’ll have to go back inside.” Lando mumbles.

“Only to return to this hallway again.” Gemma adds. Lando stands up and helps Gemma to her feet. “Not just a great driver, but also a gentleman.”

“A guy can have more than one talent.” Lando teases as they walk back towards the main hall pulling on their masks once again.

Gemma sighs as she looks at the crowded hall. Lando peers down at her and smiles once more. She’s so beautiful, he thinks. Gemma’s eyes land on the bar which is relatively quiet. Her glass is empty and it’s time for a refill.

“Another wine?” Lando asks as he guides her towards the bar.

“What’re you having?” She asks him.

“I think it’s time for something stronger. Maybe a vodka soda.” Lando suggests.

“I’ll have the same.” Gemma agrees.

Lando places the order for the vodka sodas and hands her hers. They turn to face the crowd while sipping on their drinks.

“I think you’re the first person not to ask me how I feel about the season.” Lando comments, almost shouting over the blaring music.

“I assumed you were bombarded with that question enough.” Gemma responds.

“You said you were happy to abuse the open bar all night. Any reason why?” Lando asks, changing the topic.

��Just got out of a three-year relationship with a guy who hated seeing me drink.” Gemma bluntly answers. “He thought I would get too comfortable with other guys when I drank.”

“So, that’s why you came and sat down next to a stranger in a deserted hallway.” Lando jokes.

“Yeah, well, not all strangers are scary or have bad intentions.” Gemma shrugged.

The minutes pass in a whirlwind of laughter and shared stories as Gemma and Lando engage in a lively conversation, their connection deepening with each passing moment. The ambient hum of the music becomes a backdrop to their animated exchange, the rhythm of the beats creating a vibrant atmosphere around them. The alcohol coursing through their veins acts as a liberating force, allowing them to shed inhibitions and fully immerse themselves in the moment.

Feeling the pull of the music, Lando, with an infectious grin, seizes Gemma's hand, leading her towards the pulsating dancefloor. As they join the rhythmic sway of the crowd, the boundary between them blurs, and the dance becomes a fluid expression of joy and freedom. The cares of the outside world dissipate as they lose themselves in the infectious energy of the music.

Amidst the revelry, the pair remains blissfully unnoticed, the anonymity afforded by the vibrant crowd shielding Lando from the prying eyes of admirers or fans. The freedom to simply be in the moment intensifies their enjoyment as they twirl and move in synchrony, the connection between them growing stronger with each beat.

In a lighthearted moment, Lando, fueled by a mixture of boldness and the euphoria of the night, interrupts Gemma's laughter with a spontaneous and somewhat sloppy kiss. The surprise lingers in the air for a heartbeat before he pulls away, his gaze fixed on her eyes, searching for any signs of reciprocation. The people around them, lost in their own revelry, remain oblivious to this intimate exchange, allowing Gemma and Lando to exist in a world of their own creation.

The ambient lights cast a soft glow on Gemma's face as she meets Lando's gaze, her eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and intrigue. The air between them crackles with a newfound tension, and the sounds of the bustling party fade into the background as they share a moment suspended in time, shielded by the dancefloor's anonymity. The world around them may be alive with energy, but in that moment, it's just the two of them, caught in the enchantment of the music and the unspoken connection they've discovered on the dancefloor.

The pulsating rhythm of the music fades into the background as Gemma, emboldened by the electrifying connection between them, leans in and breathes a whispered request, "Kiss me again." Her voice, a soft and inviting murmur, carries the weight of anticipation as she pulls Lando closer by the nape of his neck.

Lando, captivated by the magnetic pull of the moment, readily complies. Their lips meet once more in a tender collision, a fusion of desire and passion. His arms instinctively snake around her waist, pulling her irresistibly closer, as if unwilling to let go of the enchanting spell they've cast upon each other. The sensation of her body against his intensifies the intimacy of the kiss, creating a cocoon of warmth and connection in the midst of the lively celebration surrounding them.

Gemma's hands cup Lando's face, her touch both gentle and reassuring, as if savouring the reality of the shared moment. The world around them disappears, and they willingly succumb to the allure of the kiss, allowing the currents of emotion to wash over them. Gemma, yielding to the intoxicating dance of lips, willingly falls against him, surrendering to the magnetic force that binds them together.

In this stolen moment, the dance floor becomes their private sanctuary, and the outside world ceases to exist. The whispers of the music, the soft glow of the lights, and the warmth of their embrace form a backdrop to a shared intimacy that transcends the chaos of the celebration. Gemma and Lando, lost in the timeless embrace, create a moment that lingers in the air—a memory woven into the fabric of the night, a secret shared between two souls entwined in the alchemy of a single, exquisite kiss.

“Let’s leave.” Lando suggests when he pulls away from their messy kiss, some of her lipstick plastered on his lips.

“What if you’re a serial killer?” Gemma argues, her lips pouting.

“Oh, now you’re worried about stranger danger.” Lando chuckles, jokingly rolling his eyes.

“Where shall we go?” Gemma wonders.

“My apartment?” Lando suggests, but he poses it more as a question for her to agree to.

“Let’s go then.” Gemma agrees.

#lando norris #formula 1 #lando norris imagine #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #mclaren f1 #mclaren #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris x oc #f1 drivers #f1 driver x oc #lando norris x reader #f1 driver x reader #f1 x reader

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to the very lovely friends who have relentlessly sifted through tumblr archives to recover them, thank you all so much!! ♡

The Scars Of The King

Countless thoughts race through your mind as you speedwalk down the halls of the castle. The words spoken to you by one of the King’s guards repeating themselves like a mantra inside your head.

“King Thranduil wishes to meet with you at once.”

The floor blurs beneath your shoes, and you find yourself only realising you have reached the throne room because of the change of floor, you dont have the strength to meet his eyes.

“(Y/N), your haste arrival upon my calling is much appreciated.” King Thranduil greets you, and you use all of the courage you can muster to lift your head, only to see him standing with his back to you, at the foot of the stairs that lead to his throne.

“It is my duty to follow your orders to the best of my ability, my Lord.” You swallow the lump in your throat, wiping your sweaty palms on your robes.

“A curious choice of words, considering my reasons for summoning you this evening. Do you have the foresight to know what I am about to discuss with you?” The King asks, glancing over his shoulder, still not quite looking at you.

“I do not possess such gifts as to predict the movements of a King, sir.” You tell him, uncertainty lacing your every word as you struggle to decipher why he has called you to his throne room.

“Many have come to me in recent days, they express their...concern for you, I suppose. I am told that you work in a dreamlike state, never truly focussed on what it is you are doing. Naturally, those who work with you are deeply concerned, but I am no friend to you, I am your King, and as a result, I cannot hold such concern. You understand this, yes?”

Your gaze falls to the floor in an attempt to hide the pain that is evident in your expression “Yes, my Lord, I understand.”

The King continues “And so, I am left with a difficult decision. Do I simply relieve you of your duties, given that you are incapable of completing them to the-what words did you use? Ah yes, to the best of your ability. This would be the correct course of action, based on logic alone.”

You feel your heart fall to the castle floor, the very weight of it almost pulling you to the ground with it. Tears break the barricades you were previously enforcing behind your eyes, and streaks of anguish cascade down your cheeks.

“However, you have served faithfully at my side for many years, and I cannot bring myself to discard someone that has proved to be so effortlessly selfless in all areas of life. It is because of this that I am left with only one alternative: I wish to know, what has caused your mind to drift as of late?” King Thranduil questions, his back still turned to you, until he hears you sniffle in an effort to hold back your emotions. His ears pick up on your distress, and in an instant he has spun on his heel to face you, unable to process the sight of you so broken before him.

“There is a truth, a most painful truth, that I must reveal to you. My lord, I am so afraid.” You admit, acknowledging how pathetic you must sound to the King.

“By the stars, (Y/N), I have never seen you so torn! Come hither and tell me this secret at once, so that you are weighed with the burden no longer.” Thranduil reassures you, gently taking ahold of your hand and guiding you over to the staircase that leads to his throne.

You cannot bring yourself to look at him “My heart is plagued by such pain, my Lord, I do not know what I can do.”

The King’s eyes bore into yours, searching your soul for whatever pains you “Free yourself from this, I implore you!”

You close your eyes, feeling the words already forming behind your closed lips, and knowing that the second you open them, there’s no turning back.

“I am in love with you, my King.”

The moment’s silence lasts an eternity, your words left drifting in the air, unanswered and quivering in anticipation. You slowly open your eyes, to see Thranduil’s expression transform from one of complete shock into his usual composed, emotionless facade. He drops your hands and stands to his feet, turning away from you once again.

“These words you speak are not the truthes you claimed they were, and they are fruitless.”

You lower your head in shame, bracing yourself for the heartbreak that awaits you.

“You cannot love a creature such as me.”

This halts your turmoil dead in its tracks, and with a newfound confidence, you lift your gaze to the back of his crowned head.

“Why can I not? And do not even dare to say that you are as cold and heartless as others believe, I know that you are not, the care you were just showing me was enough to disprove that entirely!” You argue, trying to defend not only your heart’s desires, but also the fragile elf hidden behind the King’s facade.

“Perhaps, but that is no justification. You cannot love a creature such as me.” King Thranduil states, as though what he says is indisputable fact.

“I do not wish to disrespect you in any way, my Lord, but even you do not have the authority to decide who my heart chooses to love.” You respond calmly, rising to your feet and taking a step closer to him.

“You cannot love this!” The King shouts as he turns on the spot, his countenance twisting in agony as deep scars are uncovered beneath the magic that shields them, for just a moment, before the magic hides them again.

You reach out to him “Angel, let me heal you.”

Thranduil backs away from you “No being has the ability to heal these wounds, and I will let none give me the false hope of achieving the success of a dream!”

You shake your head, taking another step towards him “I know that your wounds cannot be healed by me, and it is not those wounds that I wish to heal. Your heart is more scarred than any physical wound your body has endured, and that is what I wish to heal.”

Thranduil blinks rapidly, and a few moments of silence pass while he processes your words “I am a monster, you should stay away from me!”

You smile at him warmly “Do you see even a hint of fear in me? Do you truly believe that the stream of my affections runs so shallow?” You take another step towards him, and this time, he doesnt cower away from you.

Gently wrapping your hand around Thranduil’s, you press his palm over your breast, so that he may feel your heartbeat.

“I have not run, and I will not run. My heart desires you, cant you feel it?”

The change you see on Thranduil’s face is one you will never forget. First, his eyes became mystified in a sense of awe. Then followed his composure faltering in disbelief. His gaze fixes on his palm against your chest, and you can see him focussing on your words as though they are the first and only words he will ever hear. Thranduil’s breath catches in his throat, and he moves his hand from your chest to the side of your face, delicately tracing your cheekbone with his thumb as every aspect of his being begins to shift into a state of otherwise unreachable bliss.

“I have seen more seasons pass than I care to count in the lifetimes I have spent searching for you. Where is it that you have hidden yourself all this time?” Thranduil teases, his voice softer than you have ever heard it before.

Smiling up at him and leaning into his palm, you lift your own hand to place over his heart.

“I have been here, and I will remain here, until the end of everything.”

#thranduil #thranduil x reader #lord of the rings #x reader #lotr #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction

[phantomenby]

Twitchy witchy

redrosewritingsstuff asked:

Ok so I was thinking something along the lines of the reader being a witch who is very level-headed. The boys love her but don't see her as a threat. One of the boys says something really mean during an argument and she uses her powers on him.

Sorry this was so late my love <£

Breathe. Just breathe.

David shot you a look, his dark eyes passing over your form.

In the background shouting was ensuing, each voice trying to rise over the other. No one was really taking notice of you, no one watching as your lungs expanded in hurried breaths, anxiety passing through you and making your hands twitch.

It had been like this for an hour.

An entire hour of arguing.

Even the ride home was tense, Paul had all but dragged you onto his bike, breathing in your scent and forcing you to sit in front of him to he could bury his nose in your hair as he sped through the hills.

Safe to say you didn't think you would be riding with him again any time soon.

"-its not my fault, you-"

"Well, how the fuck is it mine, huh?"

Something had happened, one moment you were waiting for them to return by their bikes, a bag in hand full of herbs. The next they were storming in your direction, not towards you, not unhappy with you.

But they wouldn't say anything, not even Dwayne who was usually so understanding.

"You're going to get us killed-"

"Oh piss off Dwayne, not like you're any better, always flashing your stupid fucking fangs-"

"Everyone has canines Paul, even humans."

The wild blonde threw his hands in the air, crying out in irritation.

Ok, so now you had the idea.

Apparently, the boys had gotten worse at controlling themselves, you didn't know why though. Even then you always offered them runes and spells to help with any vampire-related problems.

One time you considered sacrificing humans just so they could walk out in the sun for a few hours.

Now that spell hurt, and they knew it would, so they refused since you were just their 'soft little mate'. Puh-lease, you were raised by a member of the Marigold resistance. Now those were witches who didn't fuck around.

"-besides we have-"

"No. We don't..."

That got your attention, as four sets of shining eyes flashed to where you were curled up on the fountain edge, watching them intently.

"What?" you asked, curious.

They shared a glance, Paul and Marko mimicking each other as they both chewed their lips, a nervous tick they shared.

"Why are you doing that? Tell me-"

"Babe-"

"Don't 'babe' me," you stood, rising to your full height and leveling their gaze, hands fisted at your sides, "what are you arguing about."

"It's nothing, we just..."

You huffed, crossing your arms, "just what?"

"Well with all this...hunter stuff and the boardwalk guards..." you quirked a brow, imploring the curly blonde to continue, "well we were thinking you could help us, but you're not strong enough-"

You gaped at them, eyes darkening and magic reaching out to nudge things away from you. The boys watched as things tumbled to the ground, parts of the fountain behind you crumbling as you stepped closer.

"Not strong enough-?" angry tears built up in your eyes, chest heaving with labored breath, "I'm the strongest one here!"

David scoffed, patting his inner pocket for a lighter, a cigarette held between his teeth, "c'mon babe, you make flowers and potions so you can cook the best brownies, even your protection spells-"

You flicked the cig from his mouth before he could light it, not even moving a finger.

"Babe-"

"Don't 'babe' me Marko," he flinched as you spat out his name, eyes watching your shoulders tense further, "I have offered, pleaded even, for you to let me help you. And you always say no, always say it's fine, and now-"

You sighed, pinching your eyes shut as you turned to look away from them, finding your focus on a pillar to your left, eyes running over the grooves of art sculpted upon it.

"You say that. Like I'm what? Weak?" you scoffed, shaking your head, meeting David's eyes, "fuck you."

They didn't know how to react, you were always so calm, so tame in comparison to the four of them.

Dwayne sighed, walking toward you, lifting your chin with his thumb.

"It's okay babe," you leaned into the touch, closing your eyes, "you don't have to pretend to be tough for us."

-

You smiled from your position on David's wheelchair, playing with some sheep's wool as you spun it into a thick thread.

In front of you was the mouth of the cave, the sky beyond slowly growing brighter as night drew to a close.

Staring at you with pleading, and slightly irritated looks were your boyfriends.

Dwayne was furthest from the other three as he held his palms together in a begging motion.

"Come on my love- you know I didn't mean anything by it-"

You shifted and he paused, hoping you would look up at them, groaning when you simply reached for another ball of wool.

Marko tried next, leaning to press his hand on the forcefield you had put up at the entrance to their home, "doll, please, just kill Dwayne it was his fault-"

You froze, using your mind to push the forcefield out a little further, the sky turning a rather concerning shade of pink behind them.

He backtracked, eyes widening, "okay- okay, fine it was all of us we were all idiots, babe please-"

When the sun finally breached the horizon you let them in, watching as they flew above you to their alcove, leaving you smirking in the main cave.

"Weak my ass."

#the lost boys #tlb #the lost boys imagines #marko the lost boys #dwayne tlb #the lost boys x reader #marko tlb #poly lost boys x reader #david tlb #the lost boys 1987

[assassinshadowgirl]

Acceptance

"Clive. Joshua." Jill called both cheerily as she entered Clive's chamber. "I got something for you both."

The Rosfield brothers paused their Tome readings as Jill presented two fine lovely hand sewn pouches with an elegant phoenix embroidery design as well as their names carefully sewn on it.

Red was for Clive while orange was for Joshua. Even Jill has it; a dark blue pouch with a beautiful ice embroidery design.

"This is quite well made." Clive complimented as he examined the materials with his hands. Fine materials made from the feathers of Chocobos and silk.

"I didn't know you had such fine handicraft skills, Jill." Joshua doesn't recall she ever did one back in the old days at Rosaria. Except for flower laurels.

Jill chuckled and shook her head. "Actually, it wasn't done by me. It was someone else." She pointed out.

Clive and Joshua were curious who it was.

--------------

Jill led the brothers to Harpocrates's library. Quietly creaking open the double wooden doors, she gestured to them to take a peek inside. They did.

It was Dion. Sitting on one of the chairs, with knitting and sewing accessories on the long table, knitting something for two excited Bearer children.

"Here you go." He handed two little white knitted Moogles to them.

"Thank you, big brother!" The children expressed their thanks and soon were playing with it while Dion resumed his knitting.

--------------

"He made this for us?" Clive asked Jill. She nodded.

"I actually suggested to him to give it to you both personally yet he politely implored me to do it for his stead." She quietly sighed while observing him from a distance. "The guilt of what happened back at Twinside still weighs heavily on him. He may have begun living with us at the hideout but he barely struck any conversation with anyone.”

"I often see him spent most of his time alone outside. Staring silently towards the Crystalline Dominion direction, lost in deep thoughts with grief-stricken expression.” She gazed up at Clive. “Healing him from this ordeal won't be easy. I wish I could help him more but I’m not sure how."

Clive looked at Jill then shifted his gaze back to Dion. He clearly knew that the very catastrophe happened at the capital city wasn't Dion's fault to begin with. It was all Ultima’s machination; That fiend disguised itself as Olivier Lesage to manipulate Dion’s father, Sylvestre Lesage. And of course, Anabella played a part in this event. Her arrogance as an elitist, greed and obsession of wanting to obtain higher social status had opened up an opportunity for Ultima to take advantage of it. Dion who just wanted to save both his father and homeland from the tyranny, ended up striking his father down by accident resulting the prince to spiral into a deep shock and guilt mentality.

Though Dion managed to get back to his feet, the transgression he committed couldn’t be undone. He blamed himself though no one even the Rosfield siblings never ever blamed him. Yet Dion chose to hold the responsibility by himself.

Clive, this time, was determined to do something for Dion again after Harpocrates’s request three days ago. He didn’t want Dion to suffer alone. Clive wanted to pass a message to him; Letting him know that he's not alone and they are all in this together. As a family.

"What do you propose, brother?" Joshua asked.

“You remember the wild wyvern tail?”

“I do. However, Dion declined the gift.”

“Well, he did. Still the wyvern tail is a symbol to the Holy Empire of Sanbreque and it’s also his favourite flower. We may have planted the seeds at Nigel's yard. Hoping one day it will cheer him up when it blooms in abundance. I was thinking what if we give him the same thing but in a different form?”

Joshua and Jill exchanged looks then pondered for a moment. Maybe it might work…

--------------

"You sure you want to make this?" Otto asked the trio when he studied the blueprint drawing.

"Yes. I have the materials here." Clive placed the box on the table.

"And we would like to make it ourselves. Of course, with you as our guidance." Joshua added on.

“Please keep it as a secret. We don’t want Dion finding it out.” Jill requested.

Otto raised an eyebrow. "Forging something with this design isn't going to be a simple task. It might take a week or so. I mean you three never even done smithing before."

"With our magic, I'm sure we can get it done in about a few days’ time." Clive seems confident.

Otto was taken aback. He let out a grunt. Scratched the back of his head. Finally crossed his arms. "Fine. Let's not waste any time."

--------------

Otto wasn’t joking. The process and progress were indeed hard. It took Jill the whole day with lot of tries to get her ice magic to successfully merged with the silver. She made a few more for backups in case the Rosfield brothers screwed it up.

Once her part was done, Joshua and Clive proceeded. Both utilising their fire magic, trying to forge out the shape perfectly according to the blueprint. It was tough despite Otto’s assistance. There were a lot of trials and errors; either the shape was off, accidentally breaking the materials, Clive clumsily hammered his own fingers during smithing or Joshua ‘burnt’ himself so on.

Meanwhile Dion as usual, either spent time alone outside or staying in the library doing knitting or doing errands for Harpocrates. Though he did notice the Rosfield brothers spending a lot of time at the blacksmith. Luckily, he didn’t suspect anything as Jill instructed Torgal to distract the prince.

--------------

Finally, just as Clive calculated, they completed the piece in just three days. Now to gift it to Dion. Before that, Clive even prayed to Ifrit including the old ancient mural hanging in his chamber that Dion will accept the present they make for him.

The trio approached Dion in the library. They called his name. He glanced up and seemed rather surprised to see Clive, Joshua, Jill including Torgal was there to greet him.

“Is something the matter?” He asked.

“We have something to give you. Could you close your eyes for a moment?” Clive smiled.

Dion was confused. “Oh alright. If you say so.” He did as request without enquiring further.

“Don’t open till we tell you to.” Joshua reminded before nodding at his older brother. Clive took a deep breathe, opened the box and approached Dion. Dion can feel something was carefully and gently pinned on his collar. Clive took a step back and spoke, “Ok. You can open your eyes now.”

Dion did and stared down. He gasped before casting a quick glance at the trio. It was a brooch. A beautifully crystal shaped wyvern tail brooch pinned on his collar. “Is this…” Dion was loss at words as he touched the jewel. He then noticed the small bandages on Clive’s fingers.

“You make this for me?”

“I didn’t do it on my own. Joshua and Jill helped.” Clive smirked at his trusty hound. “Torgal too.” The hound barked. It was proud of it’s distraction skill.

Dion looked at the brooch again. “Why made it for me?”

Clive rubbed the back of his neck. “We made it to convey our message to you.”

“Message?”

“We want you to know that you’re not alone and you have us. Not only just a friend but family as well.”

“Family?” Dion looked away. “We are not even blood related. Furthermore, my father besides my stepmother was responsible for your father’s murder and Rosaria’s downfall. The Holy Empire’s ill treatment towards Bearers. Despite all of these, you still want to consider me as part of the family?”

“Yes. I do.” Clive smiled. “We never blame you. You have done nothing wrong. You’re just the same as us. Victims of Ultima’s scheme. You did what you have to do; to save both your father and homeland. If I was you, I would have done the same thing, Dion.”

Clive reached out to hold Dion’s hand in his. “I know you are suffering a deep guilt about Twinside but know this: It wasn’t your fault at all. And we are willing to share these burdens with you. Don’t hold it all to yourself alone. We are here for you, Dion. You can always reach out to us. We will be here for you whenever you need us.”

Clive pointed to the jewel. “This brooch signified us and you together. As brothers and family. Once Ultima is gone, let us rebuild Rosaria and Sanbreque together as one nation. No more mothercrystals. No more aether. No more magic. Alas no more as Dominants but as normal people.”

Dion was silent as he looked at Clive. Suddenly a single tear drop rolled down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away. “I—I don’t know what to say, Ifrit…I mean Clive.” More tears. “I---” He couldn’t hold back his feelings anymore. Dion never expected he will feel the warmth of something he once lost and longed for it once again. He thought he had completely lost it all. And now here he was, able to experienced it again.

Clive pulled Dion towards him and embraced him like he always did for his little brother. Dion embraced back as he wept. He finally opened up his feelings. Joshua and Jill also embraced Dion while Torgal leaned close to his lap.

“Welcome home, my brother.” Clive said.

“Thank you, Clive. My big brother.”

--END--

Writer's Note: Got the inspiration to write this short fic after watching the cutscene where Dion took out a green pouch to pass it to Terence. Then it later got re-edited into a story where I want Dion to be happy. Acceptance. Dion really deserves a happy ending after what happened to him.

#Final Fantasy 16 #ff16 #Final Fantasy xvi #ffxvi #clive rosfield #joshua rosfield #dion lesage #i want dion to be happy #dion deserved a happiness

[waitmyturtles]

A very super-duper quick weekend update on the Old GMMTV Challenge!

1) My Make It Right, season 2, review drops tomorrow morning (my time)! In it, I implore everyone and all of their friends and relatives to please watch this ridiculously beautiful show. I finished it on Thursday, and am still feeling emotional about it. It was raw and gorgeous. I absolutely LOVED IT.

2) SOTUS S and Our Skyy x SOTUS binge watch starts tonight (Step By Step temporarily delayed me, ha). 

I’m wondering if Make It Right 2, in 2017, was the first Thai BL to show the continuation of a committed relationship overall (FrameBook) -- because SOTUS S airs at the end of 2017/start of 2018, and Together With Me: The Next Chapter comes much, much later in 2018. 

But: SOTUS S, from what I understand, deals with continuing relationships from the adult/working adult gaze, which very much intrigues me. Was that the first time that happened -- the continuation of a relationship at least somewhat outside the school spectrum, for Arthit? And, if I’m not mistaken -- am I right to say that SOTUS S was the first second season of a BL for GMMTV?

3) I’m also, unfortunately, morbidly curious to see if Krist improves in his acting in this second season, as I’m seeing quite a lot of excitement for Be My Favorite later this spring, and I’m still holding strong judgement against his acting (maybe Krist is experiencing a forgiveness revival?) 

4) But separately, I do think it’s important for me to watch Singto before getting to He’s Coming To Me, which I am so close to now on my list. Now that I’ve REALLY delved into the Ohm Pawat oeuvre (and will do so even more with Dew the Movie), I feel like I need to see more Singto before I can seriously and deeply appreciate HCTM. He was the saving grace of SOTUS, and I need to understand better his own legacy and range.

That’s it! Adding Step By Step is delaying my usual binge-ability for the OGMMTVC, but not by much. I’ll be much more messed up next week and the week after with Our Skyy 2 x Bad Buddy/ATOTS, ha!

#turtles catches up with old gmmtv #the old gmmtv challenge #ogmmtvc #make it right #make it right season 2 #sotus s

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Andrew | Worlds Apart | Romantic

Dialogue prompt: “Enough people warned me about you.”

Requested: Yes

Andrew's past comes back to bite him.

“Who are you staring at?” 

Simon’s sudden voice behind him startles Andrew and he turns to his older brother with genuine offence in his eyes. Simon, however, seems to not pick up on this. 

“What?” 

“You’re staring at someone. There’s a whole group of women where you are looking right now and I want to know which one of them has caught your attention.” 

Andrew scoffs and rolls his eyes slightly, shaking his head. “What’s it to you?”

“I’m just… Curious to see if I’ll finally get a sister-in-law soon!” Simon roughly pats his back and chuckles, but Andrew doesn’t mirror the humour. 

Simon huffs and follows his sibling’s gaze. “Is it the girl in blue?”

“No.”

“The one with the red veil?”

The curly-haired man shakes his head. “Not her.”

“Then who?”

“The one with the (h/c) hair.”

The older fisherman finds the person Andrew is referring to in the crowd and lets out a sound. “Oh, no…” 

Andrew’s gaze snaps towards Simon, who has a pitiful look in his eyes. “What? What’s wrong with her? I think she’s beautiful. Frankly, I’ve admired her for a while now.”

Simon starts to frantically shake his head, putting an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Oh, no, no, darling brother. You want to steer clear from her. I implore you to choose anyone but her. You’ve got no idea who she is, do you?”

Swallowing thickly, Andrew admits to this. 

“Her name is (Y/n), daughter of Ephraim.” 

“As in… Rival fisherman Ephraim?” Andrew queries, and Simon nods, causing the heart of his younger sibling to drop into his gut. A strained huff leaves the curly-haired man. 

“Not good, An.” Simon presses, “Her brothers? Bad news for us, we’ve cheated them a few times.” 

Whilst pinching the bridge of his nose, Andrew lets out a grunt. “I can’t believe it! The girl I’ve been sweet on for months turns out to be the sister of a few of our greatest rivals within the industry…”

“And our brawling practises.” Simon adds, as if that would make things any better. Andrew groans and thinks for a long moment, letting his gaze drift back to you, where you are just having a laugh with a few of your friends. One of them hangs on the arm of your oldest brother, apparently betrothed to him, and you pat his shoulder proudly, appearing to have a close relationship with him. 

“It appears that they’re on friendly terms.” Andrew bitterly states. 

Humming, Simon narrows his eyes. “I’m sorry, little brother. I love you very much, so I wish I could take this heartbreak from you. I’m here for you if you need me.”

Simon turns to leave, but Andrew’s voice halts him in his step. “Her brothers don’t have to know.”

He pivots sharply and furrows his brow together into a frown. “What?”

“I can just get to know her for a bit… If she likes me enough, her brothers will come around eventually, right? If they’ve got her best interest in mind…” 

With his mouth ajar, Simon momentarily gawks at his brother, hands planted on his hips. “That’s a stupid idea,” he voices his opinion, “But if you insist, then I will support you. However, I cannot rescue you from three towers of steel if they decide to jump you one day.”

Andrew smiles slightly and straightens his back. “You don’t have to,” he says, “I… I’ll be fine, really. I just need to find a way to get close to her, and I’ll be fine! Right?”

Simon hums and rubs his chin. “I believe she is often at market to run a small business together with her eema. The rest of their family is often out on the water or occupied with their vessel so they handle the shop. Eden sometimes buys fish oil from them.”

“Ah, I can… I can use that information. Thank you.” Andrew quips. Still not fully convinced, Simon shrugs. 

“Do with it what you will. Good luck, Andrew. You’re going to need it.”

_ 

Simon had been right when he said you run a stand of oils and other fish-related products other than the actual fish themselves with your mother in the centre of Capernaum.

Andrew had been hanging around the business for a while, keeping his eye on you to find a good moment to walk up and speak to you. The smiles you give your customers are contagious, and every so often, a few fragments of your conversations carry over through the marketplace, where the fisherman becomes weak at the knees at just the sound of your voice, so bright and clear. 

He is certain that you aren’t like your brothers in regards to personality, for they are brute and dominate The Hammer every so often with their loud laughs and tall postures. Before Simon revealed it to him, he wouldn't ever have so much as connected you to them to begin with, for your entire demeanour is so different compared to them. 

After a particularly long rush where people purchased the goods you were selling with almost no time to breathe in between, you are washing your hands in a bowl of clear water that stands on the surface of your market stall, which is now almost empty safe from a few leftover products. Your mother is busy packing up your belongings when Andrew finally musters the courage to approach you at last. 

Up close, you’re even prettier. Andrew lets out a nervous breath before clearing his throat, which causes you to look up. 

“Shalom,” Andrew whispers. “I–I–Do you still have some… Fish oil?”

You smile at him. “Shalom,” you say, “I do, let me check in the back.” Just around the corner, your mother is stacking up some crates, and you rush towards her to assist her for a second before rummaging around a barrel for a few moments, the sound of small clay vials tapping against one another before you take out a brown container no larger than your palm. Andrew watches you as you work – you’re a woman who seems to know what she is doing, and he likes that about you – and quickly looks away when you return to him with his request. 

“Anything else?” Your voice is light and causes his gut to feel like mush. How could you not be married yet? How could it be that no man has approached your parents or brothers to ask for your hand? Andrew feels like popping the question right then and there, even though you barely know each other. For a second, he imagines what domestic life with you could be like.

“Sir?” 

He snaps out of his daydream and slightly shakes his head before blinking in confusion. “Huh?”

You let out a soft giggle. “Are you in need of anything else? I fear that we don’t have a lot left because the day is almost over, but whatever it is, I can check for you.” 

Andrew gulps and stutters: “Ah, n-no, that will be all.” 

You tell him the price and he pays for it, barely brave enough to brush his fingers against your hand as he drops in the coins. 

“Thank you for your purchase, sir. Come again!” 

“Have—Have a nice day, (Y/n)!”

You give him a surprised frown, but before you can ask about how he knows your name for you certainly do not remember telling him, he hurries away with flushed cheeks and a racing heart. Feeling your eyes drill into the back of his head, Andrew walks until he’s around the corner before pushing himself with his back against the wall, slightly out of breath, clutching the vial of oil against his chest. It’s slightly greasy on the outside and strongly smells.

He doesn’t even need fish oil. If anything, he could make it himself easily with a little practice. Still, he holds onto it, although it had been nothing but a professional transaction from your side. To Andrew, it is more than that. 

He peeks around the corner to see you finishing the process of packing up, and your tallest brother appears from the alleyway to assist you. Seeing the two of you with such a major height difference between you is almost comedic to look at, and Andrew feels his heart flutter at your beaming grin. 

He must seek you out tomorrow again – perhaps for some other fish-related products, like new nets, bobbers, anything,  just to see your face for a few minutes.

_ 

The Hammer is dank with the scent of drink and sweat. Tracing the edge of his cup with his index finger, Andrew eyes your brothers conversing with a few patrons, sharing games of chance and winning almost suspiciously often. 

Kadmil, Andrew suddenly remembers your oldest brother’s name, is not giving anything away on his position in the game. Whether he is on the winning or losing hand is not yet known. 

The tallest one, Dov, circles around their opponent, attempting to intimidate him, perhaps. Andrew isn’t necessarily certain what their tactic is, but he is getting an inkling of what it might be. 

The youngest of the three, Gavriel, taunts the poor sod who shrinks in his seat as he is being intimidated into giving up: “Come on. I think you’re doing pretty good here… Go all in, why don’t you?” 

The man’s hand trembles as he takes a drink from his cup. “I like my money, thank you very much.” All three of your brothers bark in laughter. 

Under the pressure, their opponent goes all in, shoving what little coins he has left to the centre of the table, and… Unsurprisingly, loses under haughty cackles of the three men. He stalks off and Andrew sighs, shaking his head in pity. 

“I’ll play you.” 

A voice that is way too familiar comes out above their laughter and Andrew feels his heart clench inside his chest. Simon strides up to them and tosses a small pouch of coins onto the table before sitting down in the chair where the recently defeated man had just been, giving all three of them a challenging look.

Looking him up and down like he is a twig to be snapped in half, Dov raises an eyebrow. “You’re Simon, aren’t you? Jonah’s son. You look like you could use your money better otherwise, but fine. Let’s play another round. Best out of three.”

Andrew leans forward in his seat to keep an eye on it without getting too involved, but it turns out that he has no choice when Simon speaks up: 

“No. Best out of five. And, if I win, my brother over there will get to have a proper meeting with your sister.” 

He nods towards Andrew, whose eyes widen. Three pairs of scrutinising eyes settle on him and he has to resist the urge to cower away under their judgement, giving them a small wave instead, that does not make him appear much tougher. Kadmil barks a laugh and takes a long drink, cracking a joint in his neck by moving his chin from side to side. “Do you really think we’ll let our darling sister be swept away by some fool? She’s got eyes in her head, you know.”

“Think she’s some piece of meat, huh?” Dov snaps. Andrew frantically shakes his head. 

“No–No, not at all! I just think she’s… She’s very beautiful and admirable.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Dov,” Gavriel calls through the room, “It’s not like this maggot is going to win anyway.” 

Dov seems to agree to this, for he grins. He’s missing a tooth. “That’s right.”

Narrowing his eyes at Simon, Kadmil smirks. “Fine. Tell you what. You go all in. If you win, your pathetic brother gets to meet our sister. Under supervision, of course. If we win… We take your brother’s money as well. How does that sound?”

Andrew wants to protest, but Simon has already accepted the deal before he can do so. 

“It’s been settled.”

Anxiously, he watches in horror as the game begins. The knucklebones roll over the table and he watches breathlessly how Simon wins the first round, which displeases Gavriel visibly. 

Andrew slips off his chair to head towards his brother and stand behind him to see that the game is fairly played. He will not let himself be cheated out of a possible chance to meet you somewhere else than under false pretences at your market stall.

“Back off, twig.” Dov puts a rough hand on Andrew’s shoulder, “You’re trying to cheat.”

“I am doing no such thing.” Andrew whimpers. 

“Then step back.” 

The fisherman does a step back lest he make them upset and nervously watches as Kadmil and Simon play another round. Your brother wins.

Another round is won by the three siblings, making the current score two against one. Both Andrew and Simon grow restless, Simon eyeing the bag of money that he had so confidently tossed onto the table earlier, wishing that he hadn’t made such a rash decision.

He narrows his eyes at Kadmil’s way of playing, then tilts his head as he observes it closely. Once he notices, his mouth falls open slightly.

Kadmil is using an additional knucklebone every other round.

“That’s against the rules–”

Dov’s fingers are tight on the muscle where neck and shoulder meet and Andrew flinches in discomfort. “What are you insinuating? Do you think we aren’t men of honour?”

Simon sharply turns to Andrew and gives him a reassuring look. “I’ve got it, An. Trust me. One second please, Dov. I’ve got to talk some sense into that man.”

Gavriel scoffs. “And that lot is interested in our dear sister. Fine, make it snappy.”

Simon rushes to his feet and brings his face close to his sibling’s to whisper into his ear: “Of course I have noticed that he’s using an additional knucklebone, but they aren’t expecting this…” He reaches into his pocket and shows Andrew two extra playing pieces, and smirks, as if he has already won and managed to fool the three burly men who are impatiently waiting for him to return. 

“Simon, no–”

“I’ve got this, Andrew! Have some more faith in me!”

“A lack of faith is not the issue here!”

Kadmil clears his throat. “Are we going to bicker or are we going to play?” 

Simon sits back down and invisibly slips the two extra bones onto the table. “My brother is just so eager to meet your sister that he is getting a bit nervous about my ability. He’s a good man, you know. Someone your sister would be honoured to marry, actually.” 

“We’ll be the judge of that. It’s your turn, by the way.” Gavriel tells him. 

Simon casts his throw, and it gets the score to be two against two, with one more round to play.

Kadmil lowly hums, inspecting the latest amount of points Simon has scored, and seems to do some addition in his head before dropping the small tablet the score is being kept on. 

“That’s impossible. You’re not able to get that amount of points in one throw.”

Simon shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just that good at this game that you’re not sure what to do right now and—”

“You guys are cheating!” Gavriel suddenly howls, pointing at the table. “You’ve got too many bones!”

“So do you!”

The legs of the chair scrape against the wooden floorboards as Kadmil stands, and it falls to the ground behind him with a loud crash. He points an accusing finger at Simon. “It was nothing but a test to see how your integrity would cause you to react to our behaviour! Instead of calling us out on it, although your little brother came very close to that, you decided to one-up us! A son of Jonah is no worthy addition to our family!”

Dov lets out a grunt and gathers the set of knucklebones into the pouch he keeps them in and sends Andrew a death-glare. “Forget it. We don’t want you even near our sister!”

“But–But I tried to stop the game and–” Andrew stutters, but is cut off.

“Not only was your father a heavy competitor to ours, it seems that he has raised two cowards as well!” Kadmil huffs. “Don’t even try it anymore.” 

Before Andrew can protest any further, the three of them make their way out of The Hammer with in their hands the money Simon had bet in the first place. 

“Bunch of cheaters,” Simon huffs, wrapping an arm around Andrew, who gives him a glare from the corner of his eye. He shrugs it off, not wanting to be touched by his older brother now. 

“Well, so are you. And me, too, apparently! Thanks a lot, Si. Now I’ll never get close to (Y/n).”

“Andrew, I was just trying to help. Plus, (Y/n) doesn’t have to know about this. If you have her fall in love with you without her brothers knowing, they might accept you once they see how much she loves you.”

With a roll of his eyes, Andrew crosses his arms. “You really think that will do anything?”

Simon nods. “You should try it.”

“Fine.” Andrew retorts, not fully convinced, but tries to give it a go.

_ 

It had been a few days since you had last seen the curly-haired fisherman that has been on your mind ever since meeting him a few weeks ago. His sparkling eyes make your heart flutter whenever you think about him and you wonder if he is a bachelor. The only thing you’re not familiar with yet is his name, but you have finally gathered the courage to ask him once he stops by again. 

You are confident that he is so much different from the kind of people your brothers hang around with after work down in The Hammer. The stranger seems way too kind to be part of that world. Your brothers had explained the other day that they had been cheated by a fisherman named Andrew, who had been very eager to meet you. Just the thought makes you shiver in discomfort and you’re glad you’ve already got your eye on someone else.

Right after assisting an older lady, your heart skips a beat upon catching a glimpse of him. He shyly makes his way over to your stall and you have to keep down your blush as well as your beaming smile. 

“Shalom, (Y/n),” he says, “The usual, please.”

“Shalom, sir. Of course.” 

You take the items he often buys from you and include a few extra wares to compliment his loyalty to the business, and nicely bind it together with a piece of string. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you, sir.” you start, causing the fisherman’s attention. “You’ve been here quite often. What is your name?”

Andrew smiles a little and flushes, letting his gaze fall down in slight embarrassment. 

“I don’t see how that is relevant to know.” he says, and something disappointed flashes behind your eyes, so he quickly adds: “That sounded more mean than I intended. I just mean… I know yours… If I tell you mine, would you like to go out with me someday?”

Your face lights up. “Really? I… I’d love to!”

He grins, a feeling of victory swelling within his chest that you’re looking forward to getting to know him better, too. 

However, it’s only short-lived. He is about to tell you his name when the words get stuck in his throat as Kadmil appears behind you, a curious look on his face. 

“Well, well, well… Who do we have here?”

You turn to your oldest brother and smile innocently at him. “I’ve been meeting this man at this market stand every so often, Kad. He seems very nice and he has just asked if he can get to know me better.”

Kadmil puts a hand on your back. “Sister, I think you should know who he is.”

You shake your head, frowning in confusion. “What?”

“Do you know his name?”

You give a negative answer. 

“Well, tell her.” Kadmil pressures Andrew, who would much rather be swallowed up into the ground right now and never return. 

“A-Andrew.” he stutters. 

The glimmer in your eyes falters. “Andrew… Son of Jonah? The fool who tried to cheat my brothers?”

Andrew closes his eyes and nods in embarrassment. “Yes.” he whispers, “I–I must add that it was my older brother Simon’s idea to–”

You slam the items he had purchased onto the surface of the market stall, causing him to startle. Once he opens his eyes again, he wishes that he had never gone to The Hammer that evening. “I don’t want to hear it!” you spit, “No, I will not go out with you! Enough people warned me about you, Andrew, son of Jonah! My brothers have told me everything!”

Kadmil almost invisibly smirks at the fisherman, and Andrew’s heart sinks inside his chest before it shatters into a million pieces. 

“But I didn’t want to—”

“Not a word!” The hurt on your face is genuine. You shove the purchased items his way with such disregard that he feels like sobbing. “Get out of my sight. I think it would be better for you to not come back here anymore. To even think that I was about to give you a chance, unbelievable!” 

As Kadmil wraps an arm around you, he casts a dangerous glance in Andrew’s direction. “Come on, let’s get you back home for a while to calm down. Gavriel will take over your shift.”

Burying your face in your hands, you allow your brother to guide you away, utterly sorrowful by this revelation. 

Andrew steps back, shaking his head slowly. “No— Please, (Y/n)!”

“Get out of here, fool.” Dov’s voice suddenly sounds loudly behind him, and the fisherman gasps at his proximity, jumping away out of fear. 

Embarrassed, Andrew rushes off, his chest burning whilst heavily breathing, inhaling and exhaling a chore as he walks up to Simon, who gives him a questioning look. 

“And?”

Andrew wants to yell at him. To shout and call him names. Instead, his bottom lip trembles, his vision blurring as he lets himself fall into his brother’s arms, who holds him close. 

Heartsick, Andrew sobs inside his shoulder, and Simon just embraces him, telling him he is sorry over and over again, asking for his forgiveness. All the fisherman can think of is you, the sound of your voice and the way your (h/c) hair peeks out from under your veil, and your sparkling, lively (e/c) eyes.

He doubts he will ever love anyone else ever again.

#the chosen #reader insert #the chosen x reader #x reader #chosen x reader #angel studios #the chosen andrew #andrew x reader #andrew x you

[alchemania]

Fractured Mirror.

Inazuma was not a place he haunted often, but Tetsuya found himself roaming here again, as Furina had wanted to get out and about seeing the world in her long journey to self discovery. Everything felt familiar - the maple trees, the sakura blossoms, the dendrobiums dotted across the beaches in silent testimony - but it did not feel like home; though it was the land of his birth.

Being slightly taller, it was easy to fall in stride with his friend, taking in everything around him in silence - he wasn't one to talk much, which was nice at times considering Furina was a chatterbox and a half. “It's so pretty here,” she breathed, eyes wide with wonder, and he nodded, noncommittally. That was one thing he would not disagree with - despite everything, Inazuma WAS beautiful. All of a sudden, the chatter and hustle and bustle around them seemed to stop, and Wanderer snapped to attention, eyes guarded.

“What's going on.”

“I'm not sure,” his friend replied nervously, walking up to a resident. “Um .. excuse me, what's happening???”

“She's coming!”

“Who is???”

But the woman took off in an excited dash, leaving a very confused former Hydro Archon in the dust, and she turned to Tetsuya, eyebrows raising all the way to her hairline. He shrugged in answer, shaking his head. “Looks like people around here are useless, as always. Guess we have no choice but to see for ourselves.” There turned out to be no need for that though, the crowd parted like a river a moment after that as a tall woman with violet hair pulled back in a braid that practically swept the floor made her way through, her very presence demanding respect. The duo froze, though for very different reasons, and Furina's jaw practically hit the ground.

“Is- is that-”

“The Raiden Shogun,” Tetsuya finished for her, eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly. “Yes.” Turning to his companion, he frowned. “Close your mouth. You're going to let flies in.” The girl hastily did so, staring up in awe as the other archon approached, while Wanderer merely glowered. Raiden practically towered over them both, her eyes curious as she sized them up.

“I know you,” she said, in greeting, and Tetsuya seemed as pale as the moon, throat closing up. No, no, that was impossible, there was no way she should - but then she moved closer to Furina, and he belatedly realized Ei was only speaking to her. “The Traveler has told me much of your endeavors. I must say, I have only the utmost respect, knowing all that has happened.”

“Ah- um,” the girl stammered, eyes very, very wide. “Thank you. It's nice to meet you, too-” and she extended a hand, which Ei stared at for a brief moment before taking it and squeezing firmly. 

“You must be tired from your journey. Would you like to come and rest for a while in my home?” 

“Ah, w- well-” Furina turned and looked to Tetsuya, who waved a hand nonchalantly.

“Go on, if you wish.” 

“Wait - please, hold on a second,” the girl implored, turning to the braided woman for a moment before taking her friend by the hand and rushing around the corner. “You have to come with me. You must!”

“I never agreed to visit anyone,” he frowned, eyes dark, and she grabbed his other hand, fear swimming in her expression. 

“Please?? I- well, she's -”

“An archon, yes. And what of it?” 

“I'm nervous, okay?”

“And you'd feel better if I was there?”

“Yes!” 

Wanderer averted his gaze, conflict swimming in his eyes. Of all times…why did she have to be here, now?? He thought he would never see her again, and he had resigned himself to that fact, but now she was here and of course she didn't remember him, of course she didn't, and it had so many emotions running through him- 

“.. please?” Furina almost whispered, and Tetsuya sighed, all the way from the pit of his soul. 

“Fine. But don't expect me to be all buddy buddy.” 

The girl's relief was palpable, and Wanderer let himself be pulled back to his mother, sullen. “We'll come!” 

“Excellent,” Ei nodded - though she did not smile, her eyes seemed softer, and she turned on her heel, beginning to move. “Let's be on our way, then.” Turning her head, she looked to Wanderer, and Furina looked between the two, gears turning in her head now that the initial shock was over. 

…wait a minute -

“I'm sorry, I did not address you earlier. I do not think that I know you, but I hope your stay here is pleasant.”

Wanderer averted his gaze, an unreadable emotion flickering in his eyes. “..no. You don't know me,” he replied, after a beat. Looking up, his eyebrows furrowed. “And I don't know you, either.”

“You are angry with me.”

“And the sky is blue. Anything else you wanna point out, Captain Obvious?” Tetsuya huffed, pushing past her roughly. “If you thought everyone would be worshiping at your feet after what's went down these past couple of years, think again. I'm only coming along because she begged me to. Let's get this over with.”

Ei and Furina exchanged glances, blinking twice, and then the older one sighed, looking weary. “..he seems quite troubled.”

“Yeah ..”

You don't know the half of it ..

“Despite not knowing him, I feel as if-” the woman shook her head then, cutting herself off. “No, never mind. It couldn't be. Come, Furina. Let's be going.” All the way, the shorter young lady looked between her two companions, an unspoken question in her eyes. The way these two carried themselves, their expressions, their mannerisms, they felt so…. similar. Wanderer had mentioned his mother before, though he hadn't told her much besides the fact that she had abandoned him when he was younger; but it didn't take much to put the two and two together.

..so then, why didn't Raiden recognize him??

The trio sat on couches, each one holding a cup of tea (in Wanderer's case, no sugar, while his mother and Furina added at least 3 cubes each); and Raiden began to make conversation. “Have you been faring alright after everything?” she asked the younger woman, and the girl hummed thoughtfully, looking to the floor.

“.. I'm…I'm getting there. As well as I can be, I guess."

“I understand. These things take time.”

“What would you know of human suffering?” Tetsuya countered, gaze resentful as he glowered above the rim of his cup. “How could you ever dream of wrapping your head around it after all-"

“Tetsuya,” Furina interrupted, and he closed his mouth into a thin, angry line. “It's alright.” Taking a breath, she went on. “..the prophecy was averted, but not without loss…it's.. difficult. To process, and to talk about. I'm sorry."

“I see. I am no stranger to loss, either. I've lost my friends, my sister…” Ei’s features marred with sorrow, and Furina nodded, sadly. “I wish I could tell you that it gets easier with time, but I find each loss to be a fresh wound within my soul. I'd say I've lost a creation, too,” and at that, Tetsuya gripped his cup so hard his knuckles turned white. This reaction did not escape Furina's gaze, and she looked to Raiden, suspicions rising. "But the scars ache less, over time.."

“You did..?”

“Long ago, yes. He was…very emotional, and I thought that he would not be able to bear the task I made him for. So I set him free. I felt as if- I at least owed him his own life. I didn't want him to be weighed down by that burden, or intervene wrongly in his fate.”

A dull but loud thunk sounded as a mug was almost slammed into the table.

“And what if the child wanted to stay?” Tetsuya suddenly butt in again before Furina could reply, head bowed so his face was not visible as both women turned to him. “What if it was not freedom for him? You- you set him free?? Don't make me laugh,” he scoffed, shoulders shaking with bitter chuckles. “You abandoned your child and left him alone in a world that he did not understand and yet you would fix your mouth to try and call it doing him a favor??? For all you know, he could be dead. He needed you, and you-”

Ei’s brow furrowed, and Furina could not help but notice how uncannily familiar it looked on her face- she had seen Tetsuya make the same expression thousands of times in confusion or frustration, or just plain anger.

“Your child needed you,” he repeated, trembling. “And you left him. What if he just wanted a mother. You couldn't even give him that. What if he-”

“You speak as if you know him,” Ei chimed in, and Furina was close enough to see a streak of pain fly across Tetsuya’s face as his chest heaved. Violet eyes fell to the Vision on Wanderer's chest, and suddenly, Raiden seemed to stop breathing. “...wait.”

“What,” Wanderer asked hollowly, voice cutting off when the goddess almost fell over herself to cross the room. “H- hey?”

“You,” she said, pointing to the golden feather on the casing of Tetsuya's Vision. “Where did- where did you get that. That's the emblem I gave to my-” A tense silence filled the air, and it was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop as things began to click. Ei blinked once, twice, three times, and then her pupils dilated so large they seemed to almost swallow up her irises. “...you don't - you don't know him, you- you are-”

“..your son,” Wanderer ventured, finally looking up, and as he did, tears splashed down his cheeks. “Yes. But you never saw me that way, did you?"

“You …needed me?”

“I did,” he whispered, finding the floor interesting. “But you were never there.”

“I'm so-”

“Stop,” he choked, shaking his head. “Don't - don't say you're sorry. It's hundreds of years too late for apologies. You can't - you can't fix anything,” and he stood up, scrubbing at his eyes furiously. “I hate you. And I always will,” Tetsuya finished, the markings on his bodysuit glowing as he beelined to the door and fled.

“Wait!!” Raiden called, outstretching a hand, and Furina stood, finding the strength to stand somehow.

“I'll - I'll go talk to him -”

“I'm coming with you,” Ei replied, in a tone that left no room for arguments, and the girl nodded, slowly. "We have to find him."

He wasn't not sure how long he flew for, just that everything was blurred and he could barely make heads or tails of anything around him. Eventually, Tetsuya came to a stop and clutched his chest, using his free hand to balance himself against a tree.

Hurts….

Though he didn't need to breathe, he found himself struggling to around his sobs anyway, little drops of water falling into the dirt and staining it. He hated this - hated feeling so vulnerable, so weak, so childish. “Stop that,” he chided himself, voice wobbly. “Stop crying, stop crying!” He didn't - need her, he'd been fine without her so why ..why???

…I don't hate her... I don't. I'm angry and I'm sad and confused but I -

“Why the hell is everything so confusing,” Tetsuya barely managed, putting a hand to his temple. His head hurt, and he grimaced in discomfort, dizzy. I. I need to sit down. . . Finding a pool of water, he sat by the riverbank, hugging his knees. “Why do I care so much,” he muttered, glowering into the horizon.

Just because she hurt you doesn't mean you can't miss her, Furina had told him some time ago, and he sighed, clutching his chest again. “.. I shouldn't. It would make things easier.”

Hours passed, and movement nearby startled him into alertness- when - when did the sun go down? Did he cry himself to sleep??? Why. .why was everything so warm???

“I found him!! He's over here,” Furina called, appearing through the underbrush, and Tetsuya stiffened as Raiden popped up not even a second later, eyes wide. Before he could speak, she bolted over, like lightning, and his eyes got wider and wider, looking fit to pop out of his head as she threw her arms around him and pulled him into her chest.

“..Ah - what -”

“I didn't know,” she was saying, tumbling over her words. “I wasn't aware, you saw me that way. I never - I never wanted to hurt you, I- but I did. I'm a warrior, not a mother. I don't know how to- I wouldn't have been-” Ei took a breath, shaky and shallow. “I am not asking for your forgiveness. But I want to tell you I'm sorry for the pain I unwittingly caused you. I can't fix it, or make it go away. But I'm sorry."

He'd often turned over situations like this playing out in his head, but now that it was actually happening, it felt unreal; and he felt hollow, anger draining away - at this point, he was just tired, and Tetsuya made no attempt to move, chest heaving. “Stop acting like you care,” he choked, hands trembling.

“I'm not,” she frowned, lifting his head so she would look at him. “I have many faults, but being a liar is not one of them.” He looked away sharply, tears threatening, and she brushed them away with her thumbs. “You don't have to forgive me, or trust me, or let me back in. But I need you to know that I - I didn't get rid of you because you were weak, or anything of that sort. I was afraid the world would hurt you, I was afraid you would crumble under the weight of everything -”

"And a lot of good that did,” he snapped, though there was much less venom behind it. “The world did hurt me, time and over again. And it all started with you, it all goes back to you, I -”

“You hate me.”

“No.”

“...No?”

“Yes?” Tetsuya went on, eyebrows knitting in distress. “I don't - I don't know, okay? I'm angry at you and I'm hurt you weren't around! But I - I also - I missed you, and I don't understand why. I don't - I don't need you,” he muttered. “I survived without you, but there's -” he clutched his chest then, tears flooding his eyes again. “It's like there's a hole, and no matter what I do, it won't go away,” and his shoulders shook. “And you did that to me. And then you - after what I said earlier, you still came to find me and - none of this makes any sense. .it would be so much easier to just hate you but I don't, and I hate this, I hate it so much,” he finished. A part of him wanted so badly to pull away, but another part wanted to be held and comforted, and that side was winning, to his chagrin.

Furina put a hand to his shoulder, and he looked to her before looking away, drained. After a moment, Ei frowned. “Tetsuya. You're burning up,” she noted, eyebrows furrowed with worry, and it was true; he was warm, much too warm. Tetsuya was never, ever warm- on the contrary, he almost always ran cool, hauntingly so. In response, he clutched his shirt so hard it wrinkled, chest heaving as he sobbed- and to both the others’ shock, his breaths came out in little visible puffs of air, though the night was warm. “What is the matter?”

“It hurts,” was all he could manage, eyes squeezing shut.

“Where? Where does it hurt? Just your chest?”

“I- I can't pinpoint a place,” Tetsuya replied, vexed. “It's just - it's everywhere. It's fine, I'll be alright -” and he wiggled out of her arms, attempting to stand. “Stop worrying.”

“If you're feverish, I don't think you should walk,” Furina worried, rushing over, and he weakly brushed her off. “Tetsuya, stop being stubborn and let us help-”

"Leave me alone," he growled, walking away. "I don't - I don't need-" And then he abruptly stopped talking, swaying where he stood before putting a hand to his temple. Tetsuya's eyelashes fluttered for just a moment, and then the next thing they knew, he was crumpling over, legs giving out.

"Tetsuya!!!"

Ei thankfully managed to catch the boy before he hit the ground, and he groaned in distress, clinging to her arm. "Mother-"

"I'm right here, I'm right here," she assured. "We- we can talk more later. Right now, we have to take care of you," and she scooped up the startled boy, Wanderer squawking in shock.

"What? Where are we -"

"Home," she stated, hurrying back to the estate. "Hold on."

(To be continued :) I'm thinking this will be a 2 partner, I didn't want this to be too long and figured this was a good stopping point.)

#genshin impact #wanderer #furina #ei #raiden shogun #canon be like we don't know if raiden and wanderer will ever meet again and i am like fine. i will do it myself!! #so this first part was like build up to the conflict and everything and i think next part will go into wanderer being taken care of #and explaining why raiden didn't remember him to furina #also trying to figure out a resolution #because one part of me wants them to reconcile so badly #but the other also knows that wanderer is very much aching and resentful and like. he's Not Ready. not yet. #but he's turning things in his head now that ei has told him straight up that hurting him was never her intention #he has to come to terms with the fact that she didn't think he was weak in a way that was shameful #she took pity on him because of it and wanted to protect him. now she did it in like. THE worst way; but she did have good intentions #and he's reeling with that. #im not sure where they'll go from here but they are going to talk more and clear the air. #usually things have to get worse before they get better so!! yeah. #i hope y'all also enjoyed furina figuring things out Extremely quickly #but she was also like naw there's no way and then tetsuya confirmed it AKSHSJS #i think it says a lot he still refers to her as his mother. he misses her a lot. #i hope i did okay characterizing ei btw #as well as wanderer #looking back on some of my other stuff i often worry that he's too soft so i tried making him a little pricklier this time #it feels a bit closer to canon but idk sjajsj lemme know how y'all feel about it #okay i go to write part ii now #oh yeah i am also throwing in my hc that when wanderer gets especially overwhelmed emotionally he starts overheating #like after you beat him in shouki no kami if you watch closely while he's like. huffing and puffing literal steam comes out of his mouth. #he was LIVID #and if it gets too bad he gets fever-like symptoms and has to recuperate #like i don't think he catches illnesses like people do but he can feel pain. he feels it very deeply actually.

[ladydiscordia]

Clouded (Sneak Peek)

Summary:  The consciousness of a 17-year-old Ben Solo wakes up in the adult body of Kylo Ren, who seems to be standing on some sort of suspended walkway… with an older version of his father before him.  Reylo.  Semi-Rise of Kylo Ren comic-compliant.

A/N:  Many thanks to Head Butler Ryan from Mynock Manor for the in-depth summaries and perspectives of the comic series Star Wars: The Rise of Kylo Ren.  You gave this little plot bunny a place to hang its hat!

This has the potential to get expanded into epic proportions, but I'm keeping it short for now (six chapters).  We'll see how long the hyperfixation lingers! Here's a sneak peek!

Chapter One:  Where Am I?

Ben shook his head and blinked his eyes open.  He was in a cavernous hold of some kind, surrounded by the thrum of oversized thermal-oscillators.  His father—looking a decade older—stood before him, coated in blaring red light.  A pain was etched into his deepened features, a sorrow and regret he had never seen from him.

"D-Dad?"  He murmured.

The man's eyes went wide, crinkling at the corners, and a joy so brilliant it nearly blinded split his face.

"BEN!"  He cried.  "My son!"

And then his father was embracing him tighter than when he'd first left for Master Skywalker's temple, breath hitching with sobs.

"I knew it wasn't too late!"  His hug shook.  "I KNEW you were in there!"

Two joyous shouts joined Han Solo's, coming from high above the precarious walkway they stood on.

Ben looked up and spotted a woman beaming down in awe.  Her stare wasn't like Voe's, competitive and coveting, but… proud, surprised… curious even. 

Chewbacca gave a thrilled roar a moment later, but Ben barely heard.  He couldn't tear his gaze from the woman. 

Her hands suddenly fluttered into motion, cupping around her mouth.  "We'll meet you on the top level!"  She called, her voice elated and strong.  "Get going!  We need to move!"

His father withdrew and grabbed his arm.  "Come on, Ben," he urged, starting to pull.  "We gotta hustle, buddy."

Ben ducked his way through a nod.  What's happening?  He wondered.  Am I dreaming?  His foot snagged on something left on the catwalk.  He looked down, staring at the foreign object.  Is that a… helmet?  Am I on a mission?  Was I exposed to something?  Ben squeezed his eyes closed, snapping them open as his dad pulled harder

"Hurry, son," he implored.

Ben obliged, kicking the helmet aside and breaking into a trot.  "No problem, Dad.  Where to?"

--

To be continued...

#star wars #reylo #reylo fanfic #ben solo #first draft #sneak peek #my writing

[shepherd-tothestars]

@aachromaa answered:

 ❝ miss zossie! i am delighted to see you again. ❞ colress hummed and flashed the young ultra human a smile, before nodding his head affirmatively. ❝ yes, i have been to the GREAT CRATER OF PALDEA before! i’ve been there a few times, actually. located inside the great crater is a place called AREA ZERO. ❞

 the doctor hesitated. he knew better than to openly discuss the secrets of area zero, when he was so generously entrusted with them in the first place. to break the TRUST of his closest colleagues, even for the ultra recon squad…

 too much has already been lost down there. i cannot lose them to that hellscape, too.

 ❝ … access to the crater is restricted for good reason, my dear. its geography is unlike that of which you have ever seen, and the life forms down there possess power that could rival the power of the BLINDING ONE. even the STRONGEST pokémon trainers are RISKING THEIR VERY LIVES when they enter area zero. several scientists have lost their lives to the HORRORS that dwell within the crater’s depths. ❞

 colress bent down to zossie’s height and took her hands into his, insistent on getting his point across. as his piercing golden gaze met hers, he uttered, ❝ you, nor any member of the ultra recon squad should enter that crater without explicit permission and guidance from the area zero research team, of which i am naught but an honorary member of by association. i cannot stop you from pursuing permission to enter the crater, but i implore you to heed my warning, and the warnings of others. you must not enter area zero. do you understand, zossie? ❞

"It's really that bad...? As strong as the Blinding One?" She could hardly imagine anything like that. There were only two 'pokemon' in URS records that rivalled the power of Necrozma, that being its natural rival Eternatus and the Original One itself. The notion made her more curious, but equally fearful. There was absolutely no reason to distrust Colress and his warnings.

"Oh you've gotta tell all this to Dulse... He has talked about entering with or without human given permission already. Hearing talk of weird creatures in there get his sort of UB-excitement going... But there's no Ultra Beasts in Area Zero, are there???" To think that there were possibly undiscovered Ultra Beasts. That was highly unlikely, but it would definitely draw her partner as long as the possibility remained.

"What's really in there..??? If you tell us, we might not need to do any research there after all. We're mostly here to study Tera Energy, and it's at its strongest in the crater... If it's really too dangerous, we'll have to work around it..." Her anxious eyes gazed at his for advice. They didn't want to turn up with nothing, nor did she want themselves to end up entirely endangered. Zossie wasn't exactly sure how to go about this.

Then again, if Colress had been there but came out fine... Surely they could, too. As long as they had the right guidance.

#ultra battle specialist! ;; zossie #aachromaa #in search of treasure ;; paldea #she really likes colress... will always listen to he...

[darkhearthorns]

We're all so very curious this Sinday, Mavvie. What sort of sexual kinks do you have? What would be the best way to tempt you into bed? Are you a top, bottom or a switch? Do you prefer an experienced partner or inexperienced one? What never fails to arouse you 100%?

As the barrage of questions assailed Maverick from all directions, he felt a growing unease, a magical compulsion tugging at his consciousness. The conflicting emotions of resistance and curiosity churned within him, creating a sense of internal turmoil. Despite his initial reluctance, the magical urge grew stronger, almost irresistible.

Maverick's expression tightened, his brow furrowing with a mix of frustration and intrigue. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, before addressing the questioners with a measured tone.

"I find myself in a peculiar predicament," Maverick began, his voice tinged with a mix of unease and fascination. "There is an undeniable force compelling me to answer your inquiries, even against my better judgment."

He paused, his gaze shifting among the questioners, searching for clarity amidst the magical fog that enveloped his thoughts.

"While I may not have intended to divulge certain information," Maverick continued, his voice revealing a hint of resignation, "it seems fate, or perhaps some mystical intervention, has different plans for me."

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, his expression a mix of resolve and trepidation. "Very well, I shall yield to this magical compulsion, but I implore you to choose your questions wisely, for I can only share what the enchantment allows."

"I like scratching, and piercing, and when someone holds onto my horns, or grazes my wings. Best way to tempt me? Challenge me, and tell me there is something I cannot do. I am a switch, I believe- I can be both and depending on my partner's preference. I would like a more experienced one, but I won't be upset if they are inexperienced either because we've all been in that predicament. What never fails to arouse me? Praises. I believe I have a praise kink..."

After sharing all his answers under the influence of the magical compulsion, Maverick leaned back in his seat, visibly drained and fatigued. The fog was clearing out- which meant that the spell was gone, or Sunday might have come to a close. What a relief! His usual vibrant energy had dimmed, replaced by a weariness that etched lines on his face. He took a moment to collect himself, his voice laced with a touch of vulnerability as he spoke.

"Forgive me friend," Maverick began, his voice weary yet sincere, all because of the spell that made him answer no matter what. "The weight of those revelations has taken its toll upon me. It is not often that I am compelled to reveal such truths, and the strain it places upon my being is undeniable."

Maverick paused, his voice softening as he continued. "I must now seek solace in rest and rejuvenation. The path of revealing such knowledge is not one easily tread, and I find myself in need of respite. Until we meet again~"

#maverick; answers

[legendsofmyriad]

Legends of Myriad: Arc One - Chapter 5: Blood Ties - Part 1

Mellow notes flowed in a strident rise of violins and low cellos, reaching the pinnacle of their harmonies until they succumbed to the rolling crash of cymbals and drums. The opera vibrated, ghosting across the velvet canopies and ornate frames. 

Lord Bertram corrected the brass horn of the gramophone and drank deep from his goblet, heaving a sigh at the fresh, metallic comfort draining down his throat. “Sweet maiden, dark of hair, run as fast as you can,” he warbled, brandishing his free arm as though conducting an imaginary orchestra. “The wolf is on your heels and he’s already eaten your man. Run quick, sweet darling, to the woods and far away, he’s right behind, don’t give it mind, he won’t stop until he has his prey.” Quaffing the thick, crimson substance, he almost spilled precious droplets down his chin. 

“Aim for your mouth, Bertram,” he snorted, drying the stray beads on his jaw. He lumbered to steady himself by the musical machine and removed the vinyl disc with a biting scrape, cramming another one onto the pin. 

In a distant hum, he waltzed the length of the sweeping, hollow hall, ruby eyes closing to picture centuries long gone. Women in lace masks and silk gowns floated by, fans in hand to communicate with secret lovers, and men in bronze-trimmed coats inspected the perimeters for their next partner. A quartet held precedence at the head of the dancefloor in their elaborate fashions, lengthy, structured tones sailing to greet him like an old friend. 

His front door shook under the impact of several sharp raps and he continued his dalliance around the ballroom. Gazes lingered on him. Jealous. Curious. Knowing. Is there anything so enrapturing as a masquerade, he thought to himself, encouraging the nostalgia to swell until he could feel the bodies promenading and whirling about him. Floral perfumes clogged his nostrils as guests swarmed to congratulate him on a thrilling party. Influential lords and ladies implored him to dance with their sons and daughters, and he fluttered the night away in bliss.

Another series of knocks shuddered against the indulgent memories and he grumbled under his breath. “Nobody is home,” he barked. At the third set of bangs, he snatched the bottle of blood from the side table and flew into the foyer. “Whoever it is, you can piss off!” Almost wrenching the door off its hinges, his resentment found its target.

The narrow man in the porch rattled his umbrella and propped it by the sculptured fire bird in the archway. “I will gladly piss off when I have imparted the news I have been tasked with bringing to you, Lord Demaret,” he said, tilting his bowler hat. “Do you have time to talk?” 

Bertram recognised the bordered lapels and aloof expression of a lawyer and swigged at his drink. “Go on,” he prompted, thumping on his chest to dislodge a belch. 

“I am Jasper Bailey, attorney and representative of the Davenport family,” the visitor declared. From the top pocket of his jacket, he withdrew a crisp business card. The lord simply stared at it.

“So?”

“So, it is with deep regret that I must be the one to inform you Miss Francesca Davenport has passed away.” 

The neck of the bottle rested against Bertram’s chin, blood sloshing at the abrupt halt of motion. He lowered the drink. “What has that got to do with me? Couldn’t you have just sent a letter and flowers like everyone else does?” 

“The situation is a little more delicate than that.” Jasper’s gaze trailed momentarily to his car before returning to the spindly lord. “May I come in?”

Bertram scowled but let him pass through the domed doorway and slammed the entrance shut with a harsh kick. To his amusement, the lawyer startled, and he sauntered by him with a smirk. 

“You appear dressed for a party,” Jasper said, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on the rack by the demolished mirror. Spiked fragments scattered across the mahogany sideboard like fallen stars, glass powder glittering helplessly in the grime. 

“It was going to be,” Bertram grumbled. Gesturing with the bottle, he escorted the lawyer through the lobby and towards his sitting room.

 Bertram beelined for the glass cabinets and fetched a honeyed liquor from within, brandishing it for the lawyer to consider. Offer graciously declined, he abandoned the empty blood bottle and poured a generous amount into a diamond tumbler for himself. 

“So Francesca is dead,” he said, driving the poker into the fireplace and stoking flames he couldn’t feel. “What am I supposed to do about it?” 

Jasper wriggled in the oversized plush armchair, the broken springs poking at his legs from beneath the velour. “When was the last time you talked to Miss Davenport?”

“About ten years ago,” Bertram answered, tapping the side of the glass and monitoring Jasper’s elevated heartbeat. “Why?” 

“Because she has a son,” Jasper spoke delicately. “I’m guessing you know who his father is.” 

Bertram’s nails scraped against the callouses on his palm and he balled his hand into a fist, drawing upon every ounce of resolve he had to hold back from striking the mantelpiece. “Are you certain? Do you have proof that… beast is his father?” 

“Francesca confided in me shortly after the boy was born and assured me of the fact.” 

“She was stupid,” Bertram hissed, grating his teeth. “Getting herself involved with a man like that. I warned her. Told her what he was, but she thought she could change that. As though a bit of love and attention would ever erase the monster he was.” He ripped the loose tie from his collar and hurled it onto the empty sofa, downing the rest of his drink and pouring himself another. The bottle met the rim of the cup with a fierce clink, almost shattering the fragile glass. 

For a few minutes, he paced in front of the fire, guzzling the strong liquor to suffocate the parting conversation he’d had with Francesca. She’d been so certain, so determined in her course of action despite his prudent counsel, and he wished he’d done more. He should have gathered the armies of the clan, used his authority to liberate the world of that odious man and his kind before they could dare to poison his loved ones. But he hadn’t. He’d baulked like a fool, and he and Francesca parted on bad terms. That rift, that separation from the last of his family tore him apart, left him a ruined husk with nothing but memories and exquisite drink for solace.

“She married Lycidas in secret after she’d departed your care, but he left her once she fell pregnant,” Jasper said. “As far as I am aware, he had nothing to do with the child.” 

Bertram let out a snicker and rounded on him. “And you came here to tell me this because you want me to take the boy in,” he guessed. Jasper remained silent. “I am a vampyre. I am a wreck. Look around you, master lawyer, at the state of my home. Do you seriously think I am in any position to care for a child?” 

Jasper propelled himself up and approached the brooding man. “Francesca wrote in her will that upon her death, she wished for Lysander to be put into your care. From what I can gather, she regretted leaving, but she wasn’t sure how to reconcile.” 

“She called him Lysander?” Bertram scoffed. “Her husband abandoned her when she fell pregnant and she names the child in his bloody honour?” 

“I am not in possession of her reasons for that, but the fact remains the boy now has nobody left in the world other than you,” Jasper asserted. “Are you truly going to leave him?” The stony crimson gaze that pierced through his soul gave him his answer. “He has no other relatives, no one who can take guardianship. You’re willing to let a seven-year-old, your own family, be put into an orphanage?”

“It would be the best place for him.” 

Jasper prepared to argue his case, but he knew this was a battle he couldn’t win. Having dealt with vampyres before, he was acquainted with their inflexible nature and resistance to compromise. He’d have better luck convincing a starving wolf to part with a hunk of meat. “This is your decision, Lord Demaret, but I think you are making the wrong choice. Francesca may not have always trusted the right people and made mistakes, but I do not feel she was mistaken to trust you with her son.” 

In flurried, creaking steps, the lawyer left him to sulk and whisked back out into the rain. Insistent clinks of hail invaded the sitting room until the door thumped closed and barred out the clamouring elements. 

Bertram drew the curtains aside to watch him go. Puddles splashed as Jasper hastened towards his car and slipped into the driver’s seat. As the vehicle lit up and pulled away, he spotted a mop of curly blond hair and a pair of melancholy, brown eyes staring out of the back window at the manor.

* * *

Fog slithered across the mismatched slabs like a creature from a nightmare, wispy claws clutching and crawling towards him. Trickles of ice swarmed within the cloud and coated anything it touched with a spectral sheen. Puddles in the gaps seized the moonlight as they froze over. 

Bertram couldn’t sense the cold, nor could he feel the mist slithering about his ankles, though he often wondered what it felt like. Would it burn, or was it soft like a lover’s embrace? Would it leave him broken and scarred, or would it relieve every ache and pain he’d ever suffered? 

He submerged his hand into the seeping veil, letting the wisps divide around his fingers and ignoring the approaching clack of boots. 

“You’re more sombre than usual.” 

“Am I?” Bertram mumbled, shuffling over as the intruder upon his quiet night settled beside him. “Didn’t notice.” 

“And more sarcastic,” Lord Alaric Volkar added with a sigh. “Is something troubling you?”

Bertram’s jaw tensed, and he slowly released the pressure. “Frankie is dead.” 

Lowering his chin, Alaric fastened his palms in a reticent prayer for the departed. Francesca had been an integral part of their clan since the moment she arrived, and the knowledge that that brief glimmer of moonlight was gone clenched his silent heart. “I am so sorry. I know she meant a lot to you.”

“Nothing anyone can do now.” 

“That doesn’t mean you have to grieve alone.”

“Haven’t seen her in over ten years. What is there to grieve?” 

“What is left is the wonderful, bright woman she was. The girl you raised.” 

“The girl I raised didn’t learn a thing,” Bertram sneered. “She abandoned the clan, her family, for a monster.” 

“You’re not still holding that against her, are you?” Alaric said. “Show me one young person who hasn’t done something reckless or stupid, and I will allow that comment to stand.” 

“Well, her recklessness didn’t just end at marrying that piece of shit. She had a child with him and he ended up running off when he found out she was pregnant. Her lawyer came by a few weeks past to tell me what had happened and wanted me to look after the kid.” Bertram snatched the vacant air at his side and cursed himself for not ensuring he had proper refreshments before taking a stroll about the grounds. 

Alaric’s brow creased. “I’m guessing you refused.”

“Of course I did,” the brooding lord said. “I can’t take care of a child. And you know who his father is. He’ll end up a cruel bastard like him. If I took him in now, I’d be putting the entire clan in danger.”

“Don’t you dare use us as an excuse,” Alaric scolded, gazing up at the lofty statue of the phoenix that formed the insignia of their family, wings outstretched and beak strained open to lament into the darker hours. “Just because the boy’s father was a monstrous man, doesn’t mean he will be. The sins of the father are not the sins of the child. The stars above only know I hope Demetrius will never have to pay for the mistakes I made when I was younger.”

Leaning forwards and toying with his nails, Bertram tried not to let the wise lord’s remarks sway him, to shove them aside as sentimental nonsense and focus on his chosen course of action. But he couldn’t. Alaric was right. Every time he sought to convince himself that Lysander was dangerous, or that he wasn’t fit to raise a child, he remembered Francesca. He saw the young girl who’d lost her parents, the timid infant who hadn’t made a sound until she was six years old. Her sweet nature greeted him with each floral-filled walk through the gardens, and her strength confronted him when he doubted himself. Even after departing the clan, she’d been with him in the remnants she had painted on his frosty soul. 

“You can turn things around,” Alaric continued. “You forget that while he has Lycidas’s blood, he also has Francesca’s and yours. It is your decision, but I think you are making a huge mistake.” 

“You’re starting to sound like that bloody lawyer,” Bertram huffed. 

“Whatever you decide, I shall support you, as I have always done,” Alaric assured him, “but if you choose to give Francesca’s child a home, you won’t have to raise him alone. We loved her, and we will all mourn her passing.” Lord Volkar patted his friend’s shoulder and rose to his feet. “Perhaps you should at least meet the boy, help him as much as you can if you’re not willing to take him in?” 

Bertram glanced up at his oldest friend and dropped his gaze again, picking at the flakes of skin around his nail as he was left to the silence of the shrouding night. 

#legends of myriad #legendsofmyriad #story series #fantasy #fantasy story #fantasy writing #writing #writblr #creative writing #original writing #original fic #tw: blood

[vrishchikawrites]

Hello :) Here's another prompt if you're still taking them? WWX & LWJ met as children and declared that they would marry upon their first meeting. Their guardians just thought that it was cute, and that they will forget about it over time. (They don't)

(SOFT. SO SOFT. AU without SSC and GC transfer)

They first meet when Cansge Sanren and Wei Changze are still alive. The wandering cultivators find themselves in Caiyi town and Lan Qiren is reluctantly dragged from his duties to have lunch with a cheerful Cangse Sanren.

He brings little a-Zhan along.

His nephew has just recovered from a fever and is feeling a little clingy. Lan Qiren will never admit it, but something is in his chest softens when his little nephew clings to him with a pout, refusing to let go.

Cangse Sanren's son is exactly when Lan Qiren expected him to be; excitable, curious, restless, and frustratingly intelligent. Bright silver eyes track everything, fascinated and eager to know more.

Lan Qiren reluctantly nudges a-Zhan forward at Cangse Sanren's pointed stare. She's a protective mother and if he so much as implies her son is unworthy of making acquaintance with his nephew, she will cheerfully gut him.

a-Zhan is reluctant at first. He has never been the most social child, rarely interacting with anyone but his immediate family.

But Wei Ying, also a bit shy and reluctant, peeks from behind his father's robes and smiles.

Lan Qiren has to admit it is a pretty sight. The child is plump and healthy with bright eyes and a wide, sincere smile.

a-Zhan is enamored at first sight.

Lan Qiren is astonished when a-Zhan steps forward and grabs Wei Ying's hand, pulling him from behind Wei Changze and towards Lan Qiren.

Wei Ying comes willingly, curious and entertained by the unusual situation. Lan Qiren doesn't doubt he has had even fewer interactions with children his age than a-Zhan, being the son of traveling cultivators.

"Shufu," He pulls Wei Ying's arm up as though presenting him to Lan Qiren, "a-Ying."

"Indeed," He says, secretly amused but refusing to show it, "I am Lan Qiren, Wei Ying."

Apparently, the child doesn't lack manners because he attempts to bow even with his hand still firmly held in a-Zhan's grasp.

Lan Qiren is somewhat charmed.

He is less charmed when their lunch comes to an end and a-Zhan reaches for a-Ying's hand once again, refusing to let go.

"a-Zhan, it's time to go home. Don't you want to see a-Huan?"

"Show a-Ying to a-Huan." a-Zhan insists, "a-Huan sees too!"

"a-Huan can meet a-Ying later." Lan Qiren says patiently but he feels his eyebrow twitch at a-Zhan's stubborn pout, "a-Ying is staying in Caiyi for a few weeks, a-Zhan, I'm sure we can bring a-Huan next time."

"a-Huan see pretty now."

Lan Qiren winces when Cangse Sanren muffles a laugh in her husband's shoulder and the man looks at the sky, amused but too dignified to react.

a-Ying tugs at his hand, trying to free it only to pout when he can't escape.

The scene is too adorable for Lan Qiren's poor heart. He sighs.

"Alright, let's show a-Huan the 'pretty'."

---

The little wandering cultivator family stays in Caiyi for three weeks to rest, replenish their supplies, and give their child some time to play with others.

a-Huan, of course, is just as enamored by a-Ying as his little brother. Lan Qiren is getting accustomed to the sight of a little white-clad Wei child lead around Cloud Recesses by one nephew in the morning and another in the evening.

a-Huan is at least gracious enough to let Wei Ying walk on his own. a-Zhan is stubborn. If he's in a-Ying's company, he's holding the child's hand.

Wei Ying is a free spirit and being dragged around annoys the child at first. He tugs and pouts but eventually starts reaching for a-Zhan's hand on his own accord.

There's not a single person in Cloud Recesses that doesn't adore the sight.

---

"a-Zhan," Lan Qiren sighs, "a-Ying must leave with his parents. He belongs to them."

a-Zhan is red-faced and angry, his eyes wet with frustrated tears, "a-Ying stay. a-Ying stay, stay, stay!"

Oh goodness, a tantrum.

It is, unfortunately, a drama with three actors.

a-Huan is weeping with a tragic appearance of a love-scorned maiden; eyes wide and imploring, lips trembling, and face wet with silent tears.

a-Ying is burying sobs into his father's shoulder, his little body trembling with acute distress. "a-Ying not leave," He wails, "a-Ying wants stay with a-Zhan!"

"a-Ying," Wei Changze is compassionate instead of amused, his expression soft with sympathy. He rubs his son's back in gentle motions, rocking the child soothingly, "Baba promises we'll return. We'll be back before you even have a chance to miss your friends."

"Aiya! What a mess," Cangse Sanren says, amused, "a-Ying, do you want to leave us and stay with a-Zhan? We must go so you need to choose."

"Xingan," Wei Changze chides as Wei Ying looks up with wide eyes and shakes his head, looking heartbreakingly distressed, "Be gentle with our child."

Lan Qiren huffs in disapproval, glaring at her as she smiles sheepishly and presses a kiss to Wei Ying's head, "Aiya, baobao, you'll break your mother's heart. It's alright, little treasure," She plucks him from Wei Changze's arms, her face incandescent with love, "We'll bring you to your a-Zhan every two months, I promise! We would never keep you from your friends!"

Perhaps she knows something about raising children, after all. The definite timeline goes a long way to soothe all three children.

There are still many tears at their parting. a-Zhan and a-Huan sulk for days. Sometimes Lan Qiren catches a-Zhan looking at his hand with a forlorn expression.

"a-Zhan," He sighs one day, when his nephew spends an entire evening pouting and staring at his hand, "He'll be back soon."

a-Zhan doesn't say anything, just nodding gently and tucking his hand away.

The expression on his face melts Lan Qiren's heart, "I'll convince Cangse Sanren to stay a bit longer." He thinks about asking her to just let the child attend Cloud Recesses for his education. He's very bright, possessing a native intelligence that must be nurtured.

"Mn."

"Missing a friend is natural," He says softly, "But you must understand that everyone has their own life and obligations. a-Ying belongs to his parents. He must live with them."

"Mn. Will marry a-Ying so he belongs to me."

Lan Qiren chokes on his tea, "What...?"

"a-Ying promised he'll be my wife," a-Zhan nods solemnly, like he isn't nudging his uncle towards qi deviation, "a-Huan saw."

Lan Qiren turns to his older nephew, who nods with a cheerful smile, "They bowed to me and each other. I told them bowing to ancestors can wait until they're older!"

... what?

---

Tragedy strikes and Lan Qiren sees his nephew's heart break. Once. Twice. Three times.

Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren are killed. a-Ying is nowhere to be found.

Madam Lan perishes, and his little nephew deals with the weight of grief again, silent and solemn at her doorstep.

His brother retreats entirely and his nephews are left without a father.

They don't see Wei Ying again for well over a decade.

---

Wei Wuxian arrives at Cloud Recesses like an unstoppable storm.

Lan Qiren takes one look at him, sees the jaded edge in his eyes, watches his appeasing smile, and feels nothing but wrath.

This isn't the boy he remembers, raised under the boundless love of his parents. This one has faced injustice and doesn't trust the world.

The first time the boy challenges him in class, silver eyes sharp and assessing, he throws a book at him and assigns punishment with Wangji.

Let his nephew handle his cherished friend. He needs to look at the situation at the Lotus Pier.

He keeps assigning him lines, even for offenses that warrant the cane. Wei Ying doesn't remember much of his childhood but it is clear that the connection is still there.

The three children fall into their old friendship quickly. Xichen being amused and indulgent. Wei Ying being annoying and lively. Wangji never letting go.

Lan Qiren investigates.

What he finds doesn't please him.

He pens a scathing letter.

'She entrusted you with her treasure. You've made a hash of it. What do you mean by sending that child here in such a state? Did you think I would ignore it? Will you tell me the scars on his back are warranted?

Your audacity appalls me. You swore on your honor that you would raise him as your own son. I offered to take him in when you found him but you swore he was happy with you and his martial siblings.

My nephews love him. Your son only berates him.

You have deceived me.

I swear on my honor that I will find a way to wrest him from your sect, Fengmian.

You do not deserve him.'

---

Wei Ying is a naturally good-humored child. It takes just a month of being in Wangji and Xichen's company to soften all of his edges. His mischief no longer has a jaded edge to it.

He's still far too unruly for Lan Qiren's liking but he supposes that is a symptom of his youth.

"Jiang Yanli is betrothed," Xichen says as he serves them tea. He has a solemn expression but his eyes are sharp. He's almost as fond of Wei Ying as Wangji, after all, "I see no reason why Wangji and a-Xian can't be too."

Lan Qiren stills, staring at his nephew, "Betrothal." He repeats flatly.

Xichen dares to shrug, discarding his habitual poise in his anger, "Wangji has never loved another. It's unlikely he ever will." He looks up to meet Lan Qiren's gaze, "We wouldn't be able to separate them now, Shufu, not after Wangji saw-" He grimaces.

Lan Qiren looks away with a scowl, combing his beard furiously. His youngest nephew had discovered Wei Ying's scars, after all.

"We have letters from Wei Changze," Lan Qiren says, "Discussing a-Ying and a-Zhan's formal marriage arrangements." It had all been in jest, of course. When they found out the children had 'wed' with Xichen as a witness, their amusement had known no bounds.

Lan Qiren had quite enjoyed carrying out mock betrothal negotiations.

He clears his throat, "Very well."

---

Wangji and Wei Ying are officially betrothed before the lectures at Cloud Recesses come to an end.

Yu-furen's wrath knows no bounds. Soon enough, Jiang Fengmian sends Wei Ying back to Cloud Recesses with a letter full of excuses.

Wangji takes one look at his beloved's ashen expression and turns to Lan Qiren, "No more."

Lan Qiren nods.

It is difficult to negotiate but they pull it off. It helps that Wei Changze's letters speak of the marriage as an inevitable fact rather than a joke between parents.

The Jiangs lose their Head Disciple by the time the boy is seventeen. Lan Qiren arranges their marriage by the time they're twenty.

Wei Ying never leaves Wangji's side again.

#short prompts #wei wuxian #lan wangji #lan xichen #lan qiren #wei changze #cangse sanren #anti jiang sect

[d-nghy-ck]

Pearlescent

Pairing: Haechan/Lee Donghyuck x Reader 

Genre: Fluff, smut, romance, established relationship. Inspired by the From Home MV aesthetic. 

Warnings: Unprotected sex 

Summary: A shoreline sunset spent cozied up against Hyuck dives deep past surface level. His lips profess his heart’s intent; his eyes reflect waves dancing in iridescent glimmers; his love whispered into your skin evokes heated passion. 

Header: by Jackie @/ hchan 

Word Count: 5k

“Pack your bags for a night away,” Donghyuck mischievously instructs through your phone’s speaker, only to revert to his usual playful, singsong tone. “I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes, baby.” The call ends before his distorted laughter has even finished. 

And sure enough, a few minutes of hasty packing and insatiable curiosity later, the horn of Donghyuck’s quaint little 1985 sedan honks from outside your apartment door. 

Crisp autumn air awakens your senses better than any cup of coffee, and when you hop into his passenger seat you’re met with the sight of one very pleased Donghyuck. Adventure dances in his eyes as he idly taps his foot on the gas to rev the engine, a lopsided grin playing at his lips. 

He leans across the center console to deliver a well-placed good morning peck, and without a moment to waste, he shifts the gear and whisks you away. With the windows rolled down, his hair flutters in the wind as he tells you of your plans for the day. 

“I got us a home away for the night, a place far from everyone else. I think you’ll really like it.” His thumb taps on the steering wheel, revealing what you think might be possible nervousness, and he glances between you and the road. “You deserve it.”

The pull of your lips into the shyest of smiles is all the confirmation he needs. 

You have no idea where you’re headed, but if there’s anything you’ve learned by dating Donghyuck, it’s that, yes, his plans are usually spontaneous and hectic, but they’re always exciting and worthwhile. Maybe at the beginning of your relationship you would have inquired, but with the way Donghyuck is smirking to himself as he absentmindedly fiddles with the radio knob, you know you can trust his intuition, oddly enough. 

Leading you through his daring thrills and unexpected plans makes him feel alive - you can see it in his boyish grin as he wordlessly glances over to you and intertwines your fingers with his as he drives. He chuckles at the innocent, curious look in your eyes and raises his eyebrows, almost taunting you to ask him where you’re headed. When you meet him with the same expression of expectancy and defiance, he can’t hold the silence any longer and a laugh bubbles out of him. 

“You’re cute, you know that?” He offers the road a glance before looking back. “I bet you’re dying to know where we’re headed.” 

His grin widens, imploring you to break down and beg for him to spare you his thoughts. Instead, your grin mirrors his, and you disarm him in a completely different way. 

“I trust you, Hyuck.”

His expression promptly softens and his fingers tighten in your grasp, bashfully looking back to the road, caught off guard by your unhindered sincerity. You always know how to best him in the most precious of ways, and he loves you for it. 

── ⋅ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋅ ── 

Passing building after building, the space between each structure widens and fills with wilderness revealing serene stretches of land, a relieving contrast from the hustle and bustle left back home. You stop occasionally along the way to observe overlooks of the distant sea or visit coastal villages scattered with weather-torn cottages and quiet shop streets. Belatedly, you realized you’d stopped wondering where he was ultimately taking you, and instead found yourself enjoying every moment he pulled you close to point to buildings in the distance, trotted down hidden pathways to see what lies beyond, or held a streetfood to your lips for you to taste. 

At last he steers down a gravel drive that opens to the expanse of the ocean, rolling his car right along the beach to a standstill at the shore. Hyuck cuts the ignition and the rumble is replaced with the calm crash of waves as you take your first steps across the sand. You didn’t expect the coast, especially since this time of the year beckons chilled breezes, occasional gusts of wind carrying the fresh scent of impending storms. The shiver on your skin seeks the comfort of warmth, and lucky for you, Donghyuck radiates within his padded white bomber jacket as he stretches his legs on the sand. 

He breathes in deeply and spreads his arms wide, sighing contentedly. Not a single person is on the beach aside from you and yours. It only takes a moment’s pause before you rush to squeeze him as tight as you can, slipping your arms beneath his jacket to pull his waist to you. Though winded by your ambush, his chest rumbles with laughter as you mumble against him  your appreciation for bringing you here by surprise. 

“I wanted to bring you somewhere where I could take the time to focus on you, and only you.” He kisses your cheeks, savoring them one by one. “Gotta make sure you’re as loved as possible.” 

After tossing your shoes by the car, you spend the daylight hours skipping through the sand, exchanging teasing banter, and exploring the area hand-in-hand. It even turns out Hyuck put thought into this; you’re impressed when he pulls out your favorite treats to snack on from the backseat of his car. 

The passing of the sun overhead revolves much like the way you revolve around each other with the passing of time. To just stroll along the shore with him is a boundless dream. 

── ⋅ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋅ ── 

Walking backwards by the tide, he pulls you in front of him, fingers just barely lacing together. Your clasped hands sway with each step, and the cute quirk of his lips and sparkling eyes urge you forward. As the tide crawls in, you hastily warn him that he’s about to step into the water. His eyebrows furrow in disbelief as he halts abruptly, causing you to bump into him. Instead of dodging the water, he fixes his gaze on you, mischief stirring in his mind. 

“Alright, come on.” He deadpans, dragging you to the incoming currents by a newfound hold on your wrist. “Let’s see who can outrun the waves.” 

Fear of how ice cold the water might be at this time of the year has you digging your toes into the sand in resistance. His eyes challenge you to approach the tide, begging you to play along with him. Unable to resist his antics, you entertain the idea just for another chance to see him lively and laughing. 

Following him to the water when the waves retract, you find how the sand beneath your bare feet chills deeper with each step. You prepare to run when the tide surges forward again, but Hyuck guards you with guarded arms. Just as the waves threaten to crash against your skin, he catches you in his embrace and refuses to budge one bit as the cold water rushes over.  Both of your squeals fill the air, but between the subsequent laughs and the trickle of the ocean, you can’t find it within yourself to mind. Though the water laps at your feet, he allows you to forget about the cold or how fast the sun passes overhead. And even as the waves retract, he holds you close, and he radiates just the right amount of warmth. 

Your view of his handsome features shifts as he turns you around to face the sunset. Pressing behind you, he lightly rubs a hand down your arm and along your waist to hug you securely to him, creating warmth with the friction. Brushing the hair off your neck, he kisses along bare skin, rising goosebumps in his lips’ wake. 

“See the sunset, they way it reflects off the water? The serenity and the natural beauty of it all?” He kisses up your neck to the rim of your ear and watches your profile as you exhale from his gentle touches. “It still all pales in comparison to you.” 

Shivers run through you from the combination of the drag of his lips on your skin, his whispered intentions at your ear, and his satisfied chuckles that follow. Cold water continues to rush over your skin below against the contrast of the steady warmth of his hold above. 

Spinning around in his arms, you catch the flirty glint in his eyes that plays with reflections of glimmering waves and pearlescent skies. Delicately, his fingers leave lingering touches on your skin; at the inside of your wrist, at the curve of your waist, at the nape of your neck he quietly explores. Kisses press into you on spots he knows you love, and he loves more. In return, you kiss him in the way you know he adores, and that’s anywhere and everywhere, so long as it’s your lips on his skin. 

It’s when you tremble against him that he pulls away just enough to speak against your lips. 

“You must be shivering from the water.” But he knows it’s from his affections, and he knows you love it when he teases you. Unable to deny lest your voice also trembles, you instead fall into his knowing eyes that gradually capture the light of the falling sun. 

He urges you out of the water, leading you by clasped hands ashore. Soon he’s laid out a comforter over the sand, a puffy duvet, the kind of makeshift extravagance you envision he proudly stuffed into his trunk earlier this morning. You crawl onto the duvet with him, curling up into his side as the sunset evolves before your eyes. 

There’s comfort in the solitude and far cast gazes while thoughts are of someone held near. The warmth from his soft jacket carries the clean scent of linen and hints of a scent so characteristically him - alluring and exhilarating. 

You can’t help but steal glances at him watching the view, peeking up from your snuggles on his shoulder to admire his emotive eyes, red-tipped nose, and even his brown hair curling at the collar of his jacket. Your fingers twist into the duvet at how badly you wish to curl your own fingers in his hair, to continue your loving kisses from earlier that he so graciously ended in favor of your comfort. 

And with that, your mind is lost to thoughts of him. On the surface level, his flirty confidence can come across so nonchalant, but at his core lives a caring side to him that’s present in the way he empowers you to embrace your inner strengths, the way he encourages you to take care of yourself. He wants you to be happy, and you want nothing but the same for him. It’s so positively nurturing that you couldn’t be more convinced that you’re meant for each other. 

Irresistibly, you’re as drawn to him as he is to you, and you’re sure you’ve fallen. 

As if sensing your thoughts, he catches your pensive gaze, and you find yourself holding your breath, silently begging for his touch, so thoroughly allured by his charm that you’re unable to think. He knows you, and he knows this, so he meets you there halfway. 

His fingertips under your chin urge you to him, his thumb softly tracing your bottom lip. The vibrant fire of the sunset burns in his eyes, yet in them swims something deeper as his fingers grip at the nape of your neck and pull you close for a searing kiss. 

The glide of his lips persists, slow and connected, as Hyuck melds his lips over yours in a way that bonds you to him. Your fingers find home in his hair, twirling and pulling at the tufts, earning a soft hum from him that’s lost on your lips as he leans into you. His palm moves to the small of your back, drawing you flush against him, falling into the duvet. 

The seclusion of being the only two people from horizon to horizon brings reckless abandonment as he confidently presses into you, his hands sliding up your thighs, his wet kisses trailing off your lips and down your neck. Nestling your nose in his hair, you catch the vanilla scent of his shampoo while your hands burry beneath his hoodie, drifting over soft warm skin. Your touch elicits a small giggle from him at the sensitivity before he bussies his mouth on your neck again, heightening your temptation to have him nearer. 

The physical attraction that pulls you together holds steadfast, though at the root of it all is a manifestation of the love and trust you hold for each other. He feels so content with you, so free to be authentically, vulnerably himself, that his actions and spoken thoughts release unfiltered. 

Hyuck kisses his way up your jaw and hovers right at the corner of your lips to speak with ragged breaths. “You know, I really love you.” He teases and sucks at your bottom lip, pulling gently. “I might want to be with you forever, if that’s alright by you.” 

You follow the pull of his teeth and answer with a proper kiss, attempting to convey at least a hint of how much he means to you. He chuckles at how it’s almost as if you didn’t hear him, just eagerly, mindlessly seeking his touch. 

A break for air gives you a moment to attempt to encapsulate your fondness for him, but it’s best simply put, for the magnitude of your feelings can’t possibly be conveyed with spoken language. “I love you, too. Just you as you are.” You love him for his care and passion, his playfulness, his spontaneity, and even his flaws. “Just you already - you’re perfect.” 

The genuine honesty rises a catch in his breath, the profound nature of your words pulling you both from your carnal desires. Feeling wholly understood and appreciated, you’re overwhelmed by the joy of falling completely in love. In this moment, there’s no worry other than letting each other know how much you adore and appreciate each other. Hyuck leans down for another kiss, and your minds and hearts and touch and lips are full of the other. 

The waves flow, reflecting the sun in its descent, and a light breeze sweeps by, encouraging you to sink even further into your embrace. It’s nature’s way of drawing you together. 

Noticing how your skin grows cold to the touch with the settling of the sun, he hugs you closely and murmurs a suggestion in your ear. “How about we warm you up?” Gesturing behind your huddled embrace to a hilltop that looks out over the coast, a quaint home is nestled amidst the sparse pines. Before you know it, Hyuck is on his knees, hair catching the wind in a flutter, offering a bashful grin and a hand to bring you along. 

── ⋅ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋅ ── 

With his heated palm resting against your thigh as he drives, the ride is not nearly long enough for you to catch up with your rapidly beating heart and lingering thoughts of his love and touch. Rolling up in front of a mid-century modern bungalow, Hyuck cuts the engine and grabs your and his bags from the back seat. 

Hyuck patiently sways, studying you as you endearingly gape up at the house from the gravel drive. You pull your gaze from the picturesque cottage in disbelief and meet his eyes. “Hyuck, this is beautiful.” 

Offering a proud grin, he reaches to clasp your fingers and run his thumb along your skin. You place a lingering, soft kiss to his cheek and he pulls back to soak in the contentedness of your eyes before enthusiastically nodding his head toward the front door. As he leads you up the walk, he pulls a cottage key out of his pocket with a wink, unlocks the door, and urges you in by a supportive hand at the small of your back. 

Together you stumble into your comfortable home for the night. Through large windows that reveal the views of the ocean below, sunbeams cast pinkish coral and golden hues along the walls and mid-century modern interior. The little bungalow is cozy and inviting, but as soon as the front door clicks shut and stillness follows, you can barely pay mind to anything aside from the thick tension and desire hanging in the air between the two of you. 

You send a tentative glance toward him, the light catching the honey browns of his hair, the sprinkle of moles across his warm skin, the deep brown of his eyes. Hyuck breaks the silence with a low murmur under his breath, how the cottage looks great, but even as he says it, he’s not looking at your home; he’s looking at you, and only you. Adoration melts within his gaze, and it shifts down to your lips as he absent-mindedly attempts to garner another comment, but it’s lost to you as you’re unable to think clearly beyond thoughts of his eyes, his lips, his presence, and how much he means to you. 

Dropping your bags, he carefully closes the space, pulling you close to reassuringly cup your cheeks in his soft palms. Anticipation charges the space between you as he brushes his thumbs over your cheekbones, resting his forehead to yours and allowing himself deep breaths to steady the rush rising within him. His palms hold warmth to your skin, and you can still catch a faint hint of the sea breeze beneath his natural musk carried over by the puffs of his breath, laced into his jacket that you grasp to pull him in for a heartfelt kiss. 

As if the short time apart was unbearable, he sighs into you, relieved by the release of tasting you again. His arms around you are strong and sure, desperate to love you as thoroughly as he can, in any immediate way possible. 

“Let’s take a look at the bedroom,” he breathes, huskily muffled against your lips as you swallow his words. You can barely breathe for the effort of pulling Hyuck close by your arms circling his neck. He pushes you into the bedroom with his hands clutched at your sides, desire clouding his senses as he stumbles to the bed. 

You cascade backward together and his lips chase after yours, the slip of his tongue allowing you his pure taste. Rolling over the covers, you’re a bond of tangled legs and low chuckles that swell into hidden moans caught in your throats. 

Tugging at your clothes, his hands twist in the fabric and can’t help but grab at the skin of your waist, your legs, any part of you that he desperately needs to love. As he pulls your clothes away, he graces each revealed plane of skin with a drag or suck of his lips. Your shaking hands do away with his layers and satisfyingly run beneath his shirt along his skin. Focused solely on kissing you wherever he can, he eagerly rushes to connect his lips to you as soon as you’ve freed him of fabric. 

His lips leave wet licks and sucks along your neck as his hands reverently massage your arms, your sides, and finally your chest. He settles his weight on you, his insistent hardness pressing against your thigh. You run your hands along the soft plushness of his ass and pull him to you, admiring the weight of muscle that lies beneath as you grab onto him and the way his breath hitches in a gasp in response. 

With not a single barrier between you but each other’s breath and the unspoken love that it carries, just velvety skin soothingly rubbing against each other, you feel so connected. Holding Hyuck in your arms is a comfort; it’s the nurture of fond kisses and hums. 

“I love you.” He presses his lips to you, to imprint his words into your skin. “I just love you, entirely.” 

Muffled moans bury into skin alongside bitten whines as the emotional overwhelm overtakes your senses. The steady build of passion arises a wave of mindlessness, wherein you’ve lost all semblance of reality and are entranced by him. Sensitive, you whimper and gasp at every small touch of his fingertips. You weave your hand into his hair while he continues to grind, and a press of your lips to his temple has him coming up to capture your lips again. 

He coats himself with you as he slides against your arousal, and the glide blooms a delicate floating thrill, spiking with the rhythmic brushing of the head of his cock against your clit. You wrap your legs around his small waist, digging your fingertips into his shoulders as you ride the feeling. He grunts as he hopelessly moves against you, squeezing his hands over your soft skin. He drags his lips down to mouth at your cleavage, breathing roughly with his eyes on you, heavy with need. 

You slide a hand below to stroke him, and he's already so sensitive that he releases pitched whines as he buries his head into your neck. His cock is velvety hot, soft skin covering hard heat. The weight of it in your hand has your heart thumping and a twisting tension growing deep within you. 

“Hyuck, please,” your pleads tempt him, “I need you.” At your words, he openly groans and his hips thrust against your hold without aim, urgently supporting himself on his forearms and positioning to take you fully. 

As he aligns himself, the focus of his gaze on you ensures you’re safe in his hold. In the stillness, the sound of the waves crashing on the distant shore and the last light rays shining through the window onto his golden skin play with the puffs of your moist, mingling breaths. He gradually presses in, eyebrows furrowed and his gaze intent. When you break the silence with a whimper at the fullness of him, he reactively twists his fingers in the bed sheets, pent up energy spinning. Fully seated, he pulses in you, already so sensitive that just the feeling of you surrounding him has his nerves alight. Every part of you is connected to the other as you hold him, bodies flush against each other. 

And then he shifts, just the slightest movement, and both of you are lost in the other. Even with shallow, smooth thrusts, the feeling is so intense that he only pulls back slightly before pushing back into your warmth, eliciting tingles along skin and drawing moans from lips. You’re twisting limbs and skin on skin, and his care has you willingly swept into his current, his tide pulling you under. 

The contact and drag of his body flows in waves as he pushes in and out with fluid thrusts. The soft silkiness of his tummy and velvet fuzz of his happy trail compound on the sensations, drawing friction within the fluidity. You can feel every part of him moving against you, every muscle, smooth to the touch but powerful and strong beneath his skin. 

His hands clasp with yours, fingers intertwining securely as he pushes them to the covers, mouthing against your skin, “I love you”, endlessly and heartfelt. You melt together, effortless and flowing, whole and light, and so filled with love. All you know is the want to cherish it, to protect his love in your arms. 

The last deep red hues of the sunset glow onto his skin and reflect a warm golden brown in his eyes, and as the rays fade, neither of you are bothered to cut on a light. The darkness brings something only sensory deprivation can provide; the loss of sight heightens his thick scent, his heated touch, his strong movements, his heady sound. 

Gripping your hand in his hair, you easily guide him in for a kiss. You can see in his eyes how he’s already at the desperate edge of snapping, pliant in your grasp. He attempts to slow down, wishing to savor the feeling of you, his hands gripping at your thighs to keep himself grounded. Eyes tightly shut, he collects his last bit of willpower before it slips away. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he murmurs with a broken voice, “You’re too good, it’s too good,” his eyes meeting yours to urge you to understand just how gone he is. 

Your whines beneath him only heighten his urgency; he’s spurred on by the idea of you loving him, completely out of your mind, body twisting in his grasp. The roll of his hips picks up with each movement, edging on frantic, desperate to please you. He leads with impatient, trembling hands and groans roughly in your ear, his last bit of willpower slipping from his grasp. 

His hands leave impressions of his love on your skin, and in return, your comfort enables him to naturally and vulnerably be himself; it’s as if he isn’t him anymore, simply a collection of memories and emotions, yearning for you. 

From his body to his heart, you feel every raw part of him, and he feels you, too; the rapid beating of your pulse, the shallow intake of uneven breaths, the shaking of your legs around him, but most of all the way your heart and soul call out for him. Your hair musses against the covers as your head tilts askew, tension wound tight, and he follows you willingly, pressing his lips to yours to breath into you a last “my love” as you crash over with a cry of his name. 

Hearing and feeling you come apart around him has his hips stuttering and his voice caught. Flowing in your waves of bliss, you’re faintly aware of his flexed muscles and how his cock pulses and twitches within you. You pull his hair off his forehead and tilt his face toward you to view him as best you can in the shadows of the light cast by the moon, a silver halo forming around him. His eyebrows are furrowed and he pants for breath, softly whining and shaking, one pump away from coming, and unable to reconcile with allowing the bliss to end. 

“Baby please, I’m so close.” His voice trembles as he’s about to break, on the edge of a falling, one touch away from crashing. 

In the safety of your arms you pull him to you and relish in the twist of his expression as he crashes, riding the rush of pleasure. He dissolves into the wave of his come with lazy, uncoordinated thrusts as he melts into you. Aftershocks course through him as the tide pulls away. 

Breaths mix, skin slides, the softest of giggles embellishes the cloudy bliss. Waves crash, crickets sing, and you’re floating. 

The lull of sleep covers you gently as you cuddle into his arms, a light sheet draped over you, shrouded by the light of the moon. The last memory you keep is his thumb tracing up and down your arm and your sides, his lips that speak of love kissing your eyelids closed. 

── ⋅ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋅ ── 

In the stillness of the night, you awaken to him cradling you in his arms amidst the bed sheets. He’s already awake, admiring you with gentle eyes. He peppers the sweetest of kisses slowly, deliberately to your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips.  

“You’re awake?” His voice is thick and sleep-strewn, his eyes endearingly puffy. 

Rolling on top of him with your fingers dancing along his jawline, you hum in a drowsy response against his lips and tuck your head under his chin. Pressing your nose into the safe haven of his warm, smooth neck brings you comfort that just might let you drift off again. 

But Hyuck has other ideas. Wiggling you off him and crawling out of the sheets, he soundlessly pads around the bedroom to adorn his clothes, tossing yours on your snuggly form. Mindlessly, you rub your eyes and accidentally put your shirt on inside-out, though it’s when he opens your winter coat and holds it aloft to help you into it that realization hits and you nearly protest with a pout. 

Donghyuck’s spontaneity is thrilling at the best of times, but tonight, it is quite literally chilling. 

Though you are the only residents as far as the eye can see, you still tiptoe your way outside and quietly traverse the trail down the hill to the shore, afraid to break the stillness of the night. Dawn has yet to break and crickets chirp while nocturnal crabs scuttle in the shadows to the sound of waves crashing heavily with the moon’s pull. 

A gust of wind rolls past and Hyuck instinctively pulls you closely to him, protecting you from the cool autumn breeze. As always, welcome warmth emanates from his steady hold. 

He pulls away just enough to look down at you. His hair is a complete wreck, and his eyes are sleepy, and he still looks absolutely beautiful despite it all. His warm lips press a lingering kiss to the tip of your nose in an effort to warm it, and he nestles your hands into his own toasty coat pockets. 

As nature continues to revolve around you, just like your time together, you watch the reflection of the moon on the water slowly shift as an edge of light grows on the horizon of the shoreline. 

Admittedly, it's a bit difficult to think about anything else other than the man in your arms. Turning to nuzzle your nose into his neck and kissing your way up his jaw to his lips, you run a thumb over his cheek and watch as his lips beautifully dawn into a smile. 

You just love him, entirely. 

#haechan #nct #haechan smut #haechan fluff #neowritingsnet #cznnet #kwritersworldnet #nct 127 #nct dream #nct fluff #nct smut #nct-writers #kpopscape #neohours #haechan scenarios #haechan x reader #haechan imagines #haechan drabbles #haechan blurbs #haechan timestamps

[ellitx]

From Me To You | Venti x Reader

[Name]'s been spending more time with Aether writing letters. When will she go back to him to spend time together?

word count: 9.7k

           “Now, who would love to listen to a bard’s song? One can harmonize with me to sing along~”

           Sun-kissed white clouds blossom in the blue, free to fly with the wind. In the long horizon, they take on azure hues. It was a wonderful day to sing ballads to the people of Mondstadt. 

��          Children and adults have crowded around Venti, the little ones' eyes sparkled in awe whilst the grownups are eager to listen to the stories he’ll share. A chuckle slipped from his lips and took out his trusty lyre, Der Frühling.

           The sweet refrain of the lyre spoke a musical language to their soul. The strumming sound had a hypnotic soothing quality that he craved. To lose himself to the melody of the stringed instrument was his idea of heavenly noon.

           The bard’s music fills the air without effort, like the waves filling holes in beach sand; the sound rushing in and around every person near the Cathedral. Some reacted to his poetic words, others continued in chatter, but it always speaks to them in some manner.

           A lively tempo can lift them, elevate the spirit, or admire his storytelling of the previous heroes. Before the notes filled the air, every person was an island. With it, they all feel the same tidal flows and the beginning of togetherness feels warm.

           His fingers ceased his strumming and gave a bow to his audience as they cheered and clapped from the wonderful performance and his melodious voice that favored their ears.

           “Thank you!” He chuckled and the lyre dissipated from his hands, hiding in the unknown as he tipped his beret towards them fill it up with moras. Needless to say, he will spend it on a tavern to buy Mondstadt’s beloved dandelion wine.

           Watching the townsfolk walk off and continue their business, he glanced behind him to look at the Cathedral. “I wonder when will [Name]’s guests leave?” He pouted and crossed his arms over his chest.

           “I wish they’d leave already.”

           Lost in his thoughts, a man then bumped into him making the bard stumble backward. He didn’t even apologize or spared a glance at him. “Hey!”

           The fellow simply ignored him and ran off with his friend.

           Venti whipped his head to see what the sudden commotion was all about. The citizens that were crowding in the town square caught his interest. He trotted his way near the semi-circular platform and observed.

           “What’s going on there?”

           Leaning forward on the bricked base to take a closer look, a familiar silhouette greeted his eyes. It was unexpected to see that the outlander has already come back. Aether waved to the people who welcomed him and smiled at them in thanks.

           The bard was confused as to why he was here. What was his reason for his sudden appearance without their knowledge?

           For some reason, it made his stomach churn.

           It felt like bad news.

 —

            “[Name]! [Name]!” Venti called out her name as he ran inside the Basilica drawing Barbara’s attention. 

           “Ah, Venti! You mustn’t—“

            “I understand what you’re saying… but this is more important.” Sister Jilliana sighed and let her palm rest on her cheek in worry as she looked at [Name]. 

           “Yes, but…”

           The door then slammed open, surprising the two females inside and cast their gaze on the bard. “[Name]!” He uttered her name once more and took a deep breath to regain the oxygen back to his lungs.

           “Venti…?”

           “Young man, how many times must I tell you to knock before entering this room?” Sister Jilliana scolded as a frown painted on her face. 

           A sheepish smile tugged his lips and closed his eyes to them apologetically. “Pardon me, Sister.” She breathed out wearily, already used to his abrupt barging, and motioned for him to come inside much to his pleasure.

           Venti hopped his way to [Name]’s bed and enveloped her frail form in a hug. “What is it?” She asked as she caressed his dark locks that made him relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of her fingers grazing his head.

           He nuzzled on her neck and gave light kisses on it making her cheeks flared up in embarrassment and pushed him gently before the nun could see his scandalous acts. A sullen look appeared on his appearance when she denied his love for her as he let his arms fall back to his side.

           He almost forgot what he was going to say since he was so excited to finally see [Name] considering that he wasn’t able to visit her because of curfews. She has been stuck in here for who knows how long now, and just misses being with her.

           He clenched his fist and placed it on his mouth as he coughed to get back to his composure. “It seems like he came back already.” She tilted her head in puzzlement at his words, unable to fathom what he meant.

           It was ambiguous and equivocal so to say. Maybe he just wanted to play some word games again? Before she could speak out, someone was knocking on the door and Barbara came to announce something.

           “The traveler is here.”

           The female’s [eye color] oculars lit up and smiled. “You mean him?” She asked more on the bard than the deaconess. The former furrowed his brows and intertwined their fingers together, nodding hesitantly.

           “I forgot it was supposed to be today.” [Name] muttered and glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall. “Please ask him if it’s alright with him to wait for me. I’ll be there in a minute.”

           “Of course.” Barbara smiled and closed the door quietly. Sister Jilliana cleared her throat and crossed her arms over her chest as she narrowed her eyes at her like a mother scolding a child. 

           “I’m sorry, Sister, but is it alright if we talk about this some other time?” She pleaded and clasped her hands together in an imploring way. 

           The nun shook her head and clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Some other time? You know you need to stay in bed and rest!” [Name] lifted the blanket from her form and let her feet dangle on the edge of the bed ready to set off.

           Venti watched them quietly— with him following behind her— as she made her way to the exit of her room. “Young lady, your health will be at risk if you don’t stay here—“

           “Don’t worry! I’ll make sure to drink my medicines!” [Name] said hastily and grasped his hand with hers before leaving the woman alone in the room as the door shut closed.

           “Wow, it sure has been a long time since we’ve been here, huh.” Paimon said as she floated over the outlander’s head. He nodded in agreement and admired the marvelous garden from the window, absently nodding off to the wonderland.

           “Aether!” The male whipped his head to the source of the voice and beamed at [Name] with his floating companion waving her hands excitedly. “[Name]!” Paimon exclaimed as small particles of constellations trailed along with her when she greeted them.

           “Hello to you too, Paimon!” The female giggled as she danced around her. While the three of them were busy with their small reunion, Venti can’t help but glare at the blonde male. 

           Great, now he’s getting her attention I’ve always needed.

           He grumbled to himself and clutched tightly on her hand to remind her that he was still there. Why is it that if he needs her affection so badly, something will sabotage and interfere with them? 

           “Sorry to keep you waiting,” [Name] apologized to Aether to which he brushed it off saying it’s fine. “and thank you for coming all this way.” She bowed to them and showed them her smile.

           “You gotta loosen up, [Name]. You don’t have to be so formal around us.” The fairy started with a pout. She then looked at Venti who was clinging to her as a frown appeared.

           “And why’s the Tone-Deaf Bard here?”

           Venti huffed and scowled to the emergency ratio. “I’m the one who should be asking that, mind you. What are you two doing here?”

           “Paimon…” The traveler scolded and placed his hand on his forehead, shaking his head in aggravation if she ever caused a scene inside the church. Seconds later, he regained his composure and looked to the bard.

           “Sorry about Paimon. [Name] requested us to come here.” Was his answer to Venti’s question. The latter bit his lip and held the frail teen close to him protectively. 

           What for? He asked to himself, absentmindedly letting the winds get strong and sharp on their skin.

           [Name] laughed airily when he did that and gave a short peck to his cheek to calm him down. She noticed he’s been more watchful than ever and it’ll be bad news if he’ll go out of control.

           “Let’s take a seat. I’ll go and prepare tea for us.”        

           She tipped her head and beckoned them to follow her to the room. Aether looked around the area before taking a seat on the couch while Paimon awed at the sight of a plate of cookies resting peacefully on the table and grabbed a handful of it.

           “Shouldn’t you be resting?” Venti said as he wrapped his arms around the female’s waist from behind and buried his face on her neck. He fiddled with the ribbon that was tied to her dress while she started brewing tea for the guests.

           “I already have enough. Staying in bed for days is even more tiring.” The faint scent of the sugar reached their nose as she took several and kept it in the sugar pot to bring it later.

           He hummed as a response and watched her pour the freshly brewed tea on four teacups and placed it on a tray. His fingers wrapped on the handle and carried it before she could take it.

           He didn’t want her to move so much and decided he’ll take care of this one. [Name] escorted him back to the living room and took a seat as Venti served the drink to Aether. The traveler thanked him and blew gently to cool it before taking a sip.

           Sighing at the aromatic drink, Aether glanced at them. “Should we start?” He asked and settled the cup back on the table. “Of course, it’s better to begin right away. If I recall correctly, you were alright with helping me for one week, right?” [Name] pondered.

           He bobbed his head. Paimon gave a curious look as she munched on the cookies. “Oh right! Traveler and I are happy to help you anytime! Uh… what was it that she asked us again…?”

           Aether groaned at her lack of focus, too tired to even give her an answer. “I can discuss it with you if we take it to the sunroom if you don’t mind? It’s nice and bright out there.” 

           [Name] stood up from her chair and patted her outfit to tidy up the creases that formed. Venti’s brows arched in curiosity and inquired about them. “What are you doing?”

           “I’m having him help me write some letters.”

           He was beyond confused at such a simple request, yet why did she ask Aether to come all this way just for that if he can just do it for her? He furrowed his brows and looked down on the floor, feeling dejected that she’s not relying on him.

           “I could’ve done that for you…” He muttered bitterly and clenched his fists. She felt her heart sink at his morose state and apologized. “I’m sorry, Venti but this is something different.” She cupped his cheeks as her fingers touched them affectionately. Rather than having the warm and loving feeling, it just felt heavy like something was weighing on his shoulders.

             Breathing a sigh, he rested his palm over hers and leaned closer as their temples made contact. “Who are you writing to?” He whispered and admired the swirls of [eye color] in her eyes as they twinkled. 

           “Well…” She closed her eyes and smiled blithely. “Someone very far away.”

           That was not the answer he was expecting. He whined at her enigmatic comment and kissed her lips as a counter much to her surprise and bashfulness to his direct public display of affection. 

           [Name] could feel the heat growing in her cheeks. By now they must be beyond attractive rosiness. She felt as if all her insecurities were writ large across her face and there was nowhere to hide. 

           “Ahem!” Paimon cleared her throat to garner their attention. Venti’s eyes focused on hers and hummed innocently as if nothing happened. “Seriously? Right in front of us?” She remarked and folded her arms.

           “So? Any problems with it?” He asked in a snobbish tone and held [Name] close while she covered her whole face with her hands, too ashamed to face the guests and Venti himself. 

           “W-we should get going now, Aether. I don’t want to delay your travels any further.” She stuttered then looked at the bard. “Venti, can you stay here?” She pleaded and hoped her begging would work on him.

           “Eh, why?” 

           “This is something private. I’m really sorry if I’m being surreptitious today, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” [Name] brushed her lips on his cheek before setting off to the sunroom with Aether and Paimon following after her.

           The blonde looked behind his shoulder and stared at Venti’s small frame standing idly in the middle of the room. He felt bad for him that they’re keeping a secret from him. Aether has to fulfill the girl’s request. He hopes the Anemo archon won’t misunderstand everything.

           By the time they arrived there, his eyes caught on the typewriter sitting on the lone table with Barbara situated on a chair, humming a song. She lifted her head up when she saw three figures from the corner of her eyes and greeted them with a big smile. 

           “You guys are finally here.”

           Venti peeked from the window and watched as their lips moved to try to comprehend what they’re saying from the other side of the room. He tried his best to do lipreading but when [Name] turned her head, he immediately ducked and hid from her eyesight.

            He clicked his tongue in annoyance, not that because she almost caught him, but because of the outlander and his little companion. “I knew he was bad news.” 

           Hearing the loud screech of the chair, he jerked his head in the direction of the noise as his teal eyes widened and his mind went blank as did his heart at the sight of his dear toppling if it weren’t for Aether catching her in time.

           The female’s chest tightened and her breathing was ragged and short as she clutched tightly to whoever was holding her for support. Everything turned cloudy and fuzzy, she blinked several times to recover her focus but to no avail, the world then went dark as several voices called out for her.

           Venti panicked and soon dashed inside, ignoring the calls of the nuns that wanted him to stop.

 —

            “Are you okay…?” Asked the bard as he connected their hands together and rubbed circles on the back. “I’m fine. Sorry if I gave you a shock.” 

           [Name] was currently laying on her bed, tucked inside the blanket. Here she was again, stuck in her room with the smell of medicines and flowers wafting around the room. 

           When will she ever have a day to finally get out of here and enjoy the outside world with her friends instead of being cooped up alone? Venti continued letting his finger graze on her hand to distract himself and believed she’ll get well soon.

           “I’ll be better right away.” She assured him with a smile. He stayed quiet and unheedingly interlocked their fingers to continue to play with it. [Name] didn’t mind at all. If that’s what makes him feel at ease then she’ll allow it without asking.

           “Hey, Venti,” She called out quietly. 

           “Hm?”

           “Can you sing for me?”

           The motion of his finger halted as a smile donned his face. “Of course. Anything for you.”

           He first started humming, improvising a ballad for her— to make a melodic and lilting harmony just for her. It soothed her ears listening to his soft voice as her eyes flitted, ready to set off to the wonderland of dreams.

           Humming should be a soothing sound, dulcet tones creating a wordless melody, something to help her drift away to a reassuring Neverland. Venti’s gentle humming fills her room, he knows she prefers it if it’s sedating.

           From now until then, [Name] will savor each note for they make her feel at home like nothing else can. 

           “Venti,” She uttered her beloved’s name one more time.

           “Yeah?”

           Her fingers dug on her blanket before shaking her head and smiling. “It’s nothing.” There it is again. [Name] became reluctant about what she’ll say. His brows knitted together at her furtive behavior.

           Ever since Aether came, that’s how she’s been acting. Seven days of not being able to get close to her while they write, is it even possible for him to do that? The sisters watched him closely if ever he tried to sneak inside. 

           It really infuriated him that they’re separating him from her.

           What other ways could they possibly spend time together without any disturbance? He snapped out from his daydreaming when the squeaky voice of the fairy reached their ears. He didn’t bother to look at or even spare a greeting to them.

           So when the blonde stood near her bed and placed a pouch on her hand, it made him curious to know what was inside there. “[Name], we’ve brought the seeds as you asked!” Paimon exclaimed as she appeared over Aether’s shoulder.

           “Will these be enough?” The latter asked. The female sat up and carefully opened the bag to see the contents. She hummed in affirmation and smiled at him in thanks.

           “Thank you. W-was it a hassle to find these…?” She queried slowly. “It’s fine! We’ll do anything as you asked even if it’s killing abyss mages!” The traveler gawked at Paimon’s words before sighing and nodding.

           She giggled at their words, putting down the pouch on the lamp table. “I wouldn’t go that far to ask such things, but thank you.”

           “Excuse me,” A head poked out from the doorframe as Barbara revealed herself. “[Name] needs to rest now and it’s almost past the curfew hours. Sister Jilliana will be mad if she sees you’re all here still lingering.”

           Venti’s eyes cast to the clock as he watched the hands ticked. “Isn’t it a bit too early?”

           “What do you mean early? It’s getting dark already and we better go now! She really needs to sleep after what happened.” Paimon huffed whilst she crossed her short arms.

           The archon groaned when Aether grabbed his shoulders and dragged him away from [Name], unwilling to let go. Venti removed his hand before running back to her and giving a short yet sweet kiss on her head, cheeks, and lastly her lips.

           He slowly parted from her wanting to linger his lips on hers a bit more. The feeble girl looked up at him, his azure optics already glued to hers as a faint tint of red brushed on the apples of her cheeks. She closed her eyes when he pecked her head once more and whispered,

           “Sleep well, okay? I’ll come to visit you again.”

           [Name] nodded, finally laying down and tucking herself comfortably inside the blanket. Night rolls around and after a time the sandman came to heavy her lids. She felt the shuttering of her synapses, the quiet lure into sleepiness. As each limb becomes heavy and the heart slows to a more peaceful beat, the comfort of bed calls.

 —

            “Paimon’s so exhausted. Where are we going to rest anyway?” The pixie yawned as she trailed behind Aether. “[Name] already saved a room for us in the Knights of Favonius headquarters, we can go there now.” 

           “Wow, she already planned ahead, huh.” 

           Nighttime stretched ahead as long as the road they had traveled in the daylight hours, now charcoal-hued and cold. The birds were silenced, no one walked the streets, the only serenade being the ever-present chirping from the crickets that hid from shadows or maybe even from the bushes near the statue.

           The Knights in front of the main door saluted to the Honorary Knight with him greeting them back. Opening the door, the familiar room people around him gave him a sense of nostalgia.

           “Welcome back, traveler.” Jean welcomed him with a warm smile. “It’s good to see you again. I presume there were a few monsters along your way here?”

           Paimon laughed and shook her head. “Nah, we wiped them out in one go. He’s really strong and no one is able to defeat him!” She exclaimed proudly while placing her hands on her hips as her chest was puffed out.

           “Oh? I didn’t expect to see you here.” The Cavalry Captain then appeared behind Jean as he smirked seeing the two companions. “I thought the news of you coming back were just mere rumors, it seems like I was wrong after all.” He sighed nonchalantly.

           “We can’t just ignore [Name]’s request so we immediately left Liyue.” The fairy replied. Kaeya hummed before bidding them a goodbye to go to archon knows where.

           “You should take a rest. Your travels have tired you off after all. Noelle already cleaned the room and if you need anything just ask us.” Aether took note of the Acting Grandmaster’s words and bobbed his head in acknowledgment.

           A yawn escaped his lips unintentionally as the corner of his eyes started to tear up from drowsiness. 

           “Yeah, we better need that. Paimon’s getting sleepy, I might pass out from here.”

           With Aether and the emergency food wishing Jean a good night, they marched off in their room and slumped on the bed once they saw it, drifting off to dreamland.

 —

            After a sleepless night on the ward, [Name] sank into her bed. It was three in the morning and even the birds were quiet. There was no single sign of a human nor an animal walking outside.

           She drank in the silence through every pore, soothed by its meditative quality. Each time a worrying thought emerged, she mentally jotted it down on a notepad and closed her eyes to drift those thoughts off and replace them with something positive.

           When her uneasiness had finally leached into the void, she moved her weak limbs up the stairs to bed, then she lay there wrapped in her duvet— cocooned by the thick protective buffer of the absolute quiet.

           A thumping was then heard from the window as she whipped her head in alertness. A small silhouette can be seen outside but was hard to make through to see who this stranger was because of the dark.

           The window opened, making her panic until the kisses of the gentle breeze calmed her down and eased her beating heart back to its normal rate. The figure landed on the floor softly and approached her carefully.

           The familiar green outfit and the smile she loved oh so much made her chest flutter in excitement and glee. She threw the blanket to the side and stared at the young man, eyes tinged with confusion and wonder.

           “Venti? What are you doing here so late?” The said male giggled and flopped himself next to her and caressed her hair bringing it to his lips to kiss it. “Didn’t I tell you I’ll come to visit you?”

           [Name]’s brows dug and averted her gaze. “Well yes, but I wasn’t expecting this kind of time would be your visit.” 

           He intertwined their fingers together and pulled her form close to his as he gave light kisses on her neck. A breathy sigh was evoked from her lips and laid her head on his shoulder, reciprocating his hold she missed dearly.

           After giving her affections, Venti grabbed the shawl that was lying on the chair and draped it over her shoulder. “Come on, I want to show you something.” He gently pulled her up from her seat and took the pouch given by the traveler.

           “Won’t the guards see us and catch you once they know you’re intruding again?” She whispered and hesitantly allowed him to lead her. “No worries. It’ll be really quick.” He laughed mirthfully without care of the consequences.

           She heaved a sigh before asking, “Wait, why show it to me now? We can just do it when the morning dawn arrives.” He stopped his tracks in front of the window and faced her.

           “I wouldn’t be able to do that. The curfew, Sister, and then the traveler will steal you from me again…”

           She can feel her heart shatter at the sight of his downcast look but he quickly replaces it with a grin. “Now, don’t feel so blue. I can’t help but be saddened by it too. Let’s change it with a smile for something new?” He leaned close and brought his hand behind her as he rhymed, making her chuckle at his cute frolic.

           “See? It suits you more with a smile than a frown that has been compiled. Now let’s make haste before the moon will be replaced.”

           Venti pulled her as they exited from the opened window and knelt down on one knee with his back facing her. “I’ll carry you there,” [Name] looked around the area before obliging and wrapping her arms over his shoulder as he hoisted her up.

           From the distance, a certain traveler was aimlessly walking around for a midnight stroll. Aether was having trouble going back to sleep and left Paimon resting in the headquarters to relax his mind. The familiar face of Venti caught his eyes, bringing him wide awake and wondering what he was doing.

           It was even more surprising to see [Name] was with him. Wasn’t she supposed to rest to recover? What is she doing outside with him so late? He immediately hid behind the corner and watched them from afar in curiosity.

           Venti carefully had his hold underneath her knees and surreptitiously sauntered towards the Anemo God Statue Plaza. He easily summoned the wind to lift them up to the statue’s hands and landed gracefully. [Name] brought down her bare feet on the cold surface and admired the view from atop.

           “Careful.” He cautioned and held her arm. The female sat down and let her feet dangle at the edge. When Venti mimicked her actions, she laid her head on his shoulder surprising him but didn’t mind at all.

           He took out a pouch he had taken from her room and placed it in her hand. “You wanted to blow these dandelion seeds, right?” She glanced down at it and nodded. “Yeah, but how do you know they were dandelion seeds? I don’t recall telling you about it.”

           He cheekily smiled and laid his head on top of hers. “The scent of dandelion is easy for my nose to pick up. And knowing what you’ll do about it, I decided to help you.” 

           “Then can you cover your ears for a while?”

           Venti did as he was told though it’s not entirely covered per se. He left a bit of space to listen and know what she’ll whisper to the seeds but got caught red-handed. “No eavesdropping! You know this is something private.” She pouted.

           He lightly laughed and kissed her nose as an apology before covering them up again with his hands and turning his back.

           [Name] brought her hands close to her lips and whispered her wishes onto it. A handful of it should suffice, maybe in another day, she’ll do it again. She heard from Sister Grace that the dandelion seeds will carry their feelings in their hearts with the wind. 

           If it is true then she hopes the Anemo Archon, Barbatos, will listen to it and lead her message to a distant place.

           She gently blew them away and watched them scattered along with the air and drifted off as the glaze guided the particles to the unknown. 

 —

            [Name] read the text on the paper written by Aether as she discussed some things about it. She closed her eyes and smiled at him gratefully as Paimon floated above her head to take a peek at what’s written on it.

           Venti rested his chin on his palm and watched them from the other side of the room that separated him from his beloved. 

           What could they be talking about?

           The sound of shoes’ heels tapping against the tile brought him back to the real world and saw the blonde deaconess holding a tray of pastries and cups of tea in it. He jumped to his feet and neared her.

           “I can take it to them.” He outstretched his arms expecting Barbara to simply give it to him as he smiled at her blithely.

           The girl moved the tray away from his grasp and shook her head. “No, you won’t. Though I appreciate your offer, I can do it myself.” She looked at him apologetically when he frowned. His eyes followed her figure entering the room and huffed.

           “Sheesh. Why must nothing in life ever go right?” He slumped on the couch before taking another glimpse at the sunroom. He saw the Honorary Knight handed her another piece of paper as [Name]’s eyes scanned over the text.

           A forlorn expression was then etched on her visage. Her eyes turned glossy while she read the letter and her shoulders shook tremendously, accidentally crumpling the paper from her hold and holding it close to her as if it was something precious.

           Tears dribbled from her eyes, letting it flow freely on her cheeks as small drops of water fell on the ground. It hurt Venti to see her like this. It hurt him to see her cry.

           His heart ached to see her in this vulnerable state that he could do nothing but watch from the other side, not even allowing him to approach her to give her the comfort she needed.

 —

            Another night came by quickly. Aether was strolling at the town square to craft some materials and buy some food before heading back to the headquarters. When he felt a light tapping on his shoulder, he turned around and saw Venti standing there with a smile.

           “Oh, Venti. It’s good to see you again. Is something the matter?” He asked and faced him fully. “What are you doing?” The bard asked as he glanced at the bag he was holding.

           “Just shopping.”

           “Is it for [Name]?”

           The traveler paused, thinking of what he should say. There was nothing to hide from him so he presumed it was safe to tell him. 

           “Yes.” 

           When he answered, Paimon appeared out of nowhere and crossed her arms. “Hey! Be careful what you say to the Tone-Deaf Bard!” Both of them ignored her as Venti continued to question him.

           “Are you going to write letters with her again?” The blonde nodded in response. 

           “How long?”

           Paimon grumbled but before she could lash out at him, Aether grabbed her legs and covered her mouth with his hand. “Six more days.”

           Venti narrowed his eyes to the emergency ratio before looking back at him. “Who are you writing to?” The traveler’s mouth opened slightly and gave a quick answer.

           “It’s something I can’t tell you.”

           The archon clicked his tongue and glared, “Why?” His voice sounded more demanding than a question. Aether was taken aback by his tone. He never heard him so aggressive before that it made him shudder in fear.

           “It’s something confidential.” It took him a lot of courage to reply to him, hoping the raven-haired male won’t outrage at his vague answer. This is the only question he won’t answer. No matter who asked, only he, Paimon, and Barbara know who this is written for.

           “It can’t be someone from her family…” As much as it hurt Venti, he knew the fact [Name] was all alone and the Church had to be the one to take her in. He was always there for her, but so, who is this person she’s writing for that requires him not to be included?

           “Hey, tell me. Who is it for?” He asked more softly. Aether stared at him for a second then sighed quietly.

           “Venti, didn’t you come here for a reason?”

           “A reason…?” He echoed. He hummed and placed his fingers on his chin, thinking. “[Name]’s asleep and the nuns won’t let me check up on her,” Venti remarked and folded his arms.

           “Shouldn’t you need to rest as well?” Aether’s words made him snort in laughter. “Bold of you to assume that I require sleep.”

           Paimon was finally released from her companion’s grasp and pointed accusingly to the bard. “Then shouldn’t you go to a tavern or something?! That’s what you always do when it’s nighttime!”

           Venti let out an annoyed sound and looked at the small accomplice. “Well, I don’t want to!” Her eyes widened in shock and looked at Aether. “D-did you hear what he said? The Tone-Deaf Bard doesn’t want to drink?!”

           The latter sighed and shrugged his shoulders unsurely.

           “I’m going back! I bid you all goodnight!” Venti stomped his way out as the outlander watched his small form disappear from the distance, wondering what was his sudden change in tone all about.

 —

            Three days had already passed by and whenever Venti and Paimon saw each other, both of them had a glaring contest. It actually amused Aether to see this happened and when he told [Name] about this, it made her laugh.

           He was assured to know that Paimon was unintentionally occupying Venti’s time. He didn’t tell her about this though since he knew she would stay silent and back out. Aether and [Name] were glad to see Venti was returning back to normal with his usual rhymes appearing more often than ever.

           It did scare him whenever the bard gave him death glares when he’s not looking. He can feel those sharp glances ever since he came back to Mondstadt and he was sweating so furiously when he knew that.

           At least this time, it was getting less and less.

           Or so he thought.

           “Will this do?” Barbara handed her the paper and [Name]’s optics skimmed over the words, silently reading it. Her eyes caressed the strokes of the pen, seeing the personality behind the lines and punctuation marks. Finally reaching the last words of the letters she closed her eyes and smiled.

           “Yes, it’s perfect.”

           “I’ll write along these lines then,” Aether said and took another piece of paper and placed it in the platen as [Name] thanked him. The door slightly creaked open but went unnoticed by the three.

           Venti peeped at the small gap of the door and observed them. Instead of writing in the sunroom, they were currently inside her room to continue doing it. It was hard for him to find a location where he can keep watch of her, so taking a small peek won’t hurt right?

           The frail female’s breathing suddenly became shaky and the tightness on her chest arrived once more accompanying it with immense pressure. It alerted her when she saw the door was fully opened for her to see Venti standing there with a panicked look.

           “Venti...”

           He didn’t know Sister Jilliana was there, so when she turned around, he quickly made up an excuse and looked away from them. “I-I was just going to call for the traveler. Something urgent came up.” 

           “Is that so? Is it alright if we hold it for a while?” The nun asked him to which he avoided making eye contact with her. “Can I have a short break?” Aether jumped in and waited patiently for an answer.

           “H-huh? Why now?” Paimon asked. The blonde gestured her to play along and she quickly understood what he meant. Paimon flailed her arms in the air, an attempt to make it more convincing. “Oh! Um, yeah, we really need a break. I hope [Name] doesn’t mind it?” She meekly smiled at them.

           The sickly girl shook her head and told them it’s fine. The chair creaked when he stood up and approached Venti who had a distant look. He closed the door quietly and followed him until they stopped near the altar.

           “I suppose we both know that I just fabricated my words out there,” Venti mentioned that he didn’t bother to confront him. Aether nodded silently in agreement. 

           “I just wanted to check how she’s doing.” When he remained quiet, the archon called his name. “Hey, stop taking away the time she and I spend together.” He begged that his voice almost cracked.

           He was desperate to just be with her.

           “I’ll be gone in a few days.” The outlander stated and looked him directly in the eyes. 

           “Then at least please tell her I’ll be there while you’re writing the letters. I want to be by her side. I just wanna be there and hold her hand tight! Please!” Venti’s voice gets louder and louder, letting his words echo inside the church. He grabbed his shoulders and tightly dug his fingers onto them as he begged.

           Aether deterred his view from his and grabbed his hand, putting it back to his side. He feels guilty for doing this to him, but he has to keep his promises. No matter how much he pleaded, he had to deny all of his requests. 

           “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept that.” The bard gritted his teeth and pushed him. 

           “Why?!”

           He quickly regained his balance and looked away. “Excuse me, I have to go back.” The traveler left him alone in the nave as he strode back to [Name]’s room. Venti blankly stared at his back as his hands clenched into fists, making his knuckles turn white.

             “Do you think we can finish today?” [Name] asked and stared at the stacks of paper neatly arranged on the table. “If we maintain this pace, yes.” The Honorary Knight replied. Paimon gave her another paper and asked if she could review it.

           She suddenly took on a pale look, as if she’d been painted white-wash— even her lips were barely there. Beneath her feet, the wooden floor felt soft, not as much as even a firm carpet, but not right for oak plants. It was hard to make out the details of the room after the autumn fell outside; but after a while, she could make out the features of the room.

           Before she could grab onto the letter, her form abruptly collapsed as Aether quickly caught her to prevent her from injuring herself any further. “[Name]!” Barbara screamed in worry and approached her.

           “I’m… fine.” She assured them in between her breaths.

           “But—“

           “Please keep going.” She cut him off and looked at him pleadingly.

           The wind blew through the room with a powerful fury, scattering the stacked envelopes as if they were leaves of fall. The slam of the door was the tempest inside Venti made audible. 

           It was how he wrote the pain in the air, hoping that someone would understand how to stop [Name] from pushing herself— praying that there would be enough assurance in the world to calm the winds that tore at his insides.

           “That’s enough!” He shouted and ran to her, holding her weak form in his arms. “Just stop already!” Tears rolled down his cheek and cradled her close to him and cried on her shoulder, dampening the sleeves of her dress. When he felt someone touch his shoulder, he slapped it away. 

           No one should interfere with them. He had enough already. Can’t they see how critical he was to see her so weak as each day passed by?

           “Why… why must you write these letters…” His voice was hoarse from his shouting and buried his face on her hair to take in her scent. “Who are you writing them to?” He cried as if his brain was being shredded from the inside. Emotional pain flowed out of his every pore. 

           From his mouth came a cry so raw that even the eyes of the people around them were suddenly wet with tears. “They’re important letters.” She said and brushed his hair with her fingers to calm him.

           “They’re for someone I don’t know, right? Someone who doesn’t even visit when you’re sick!” [Name]’s eyes enlarged when his words entered her ears as she tightly clutched onto him. She can feel her own eyes swell up with emotions as she cries and let them escape freely without restraints. 

           “There’s nobody out there who’s truly worried about you!” 

           Everything was quiet except for their cries inside. When he pulled back, she wiped the salty fluid that stained his cheeks and leaned on his shoulder. “Are the letters more important than me?” He uttered, the tone in his voice was shaky and breathy.

           [Name] kissed his head and ran her fingers through his hair to soothe him. “Nothing’s more important to me than you, Venti.” He sniffed and rubbed his eyes with his hand to get a clear view of her appearance.

           “Why is everything full of lies...” Her brow arched in confusion as she felt his fingers tightly gripping her waist. 

           “You aren’t getting any better at all. They said you’d recover soon!” So many tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down on his face. His chin trembled and breathed heavier than he had before.

           “I know that you’re… I’m going to be all alone again when you’re gone!” His throat burned from screaming. Even gasping for air was simply not enough for him. [Name]’s [eye color] optics are slowly but surely becoming glassy. 

           Tears are now streaming down her cheeks from his words. She hugged him tighter and whispered sweet nothings to him, no matter how much she tried to assuage him, it only failed as he continued to sob hysterically and screamed on top of his lungs.

           “How much longer do I have with you?!”

           Barbara sniffled her cries by covering her mouth with her hand and turned away as it ached her heart to know [Name]’s undecided fate. 

           “If I’m going to be left alone all over soon,” Venti grazed his fingers on her face and connected their hands, afraid she’ll disappear if he let go of her.

           “Then forget about the letters and spend this time with me! Be with me! Please, [Name]!!” Aether slowly approached them and lifted the bard up by grabbing his shoulders. He knows he’ll try to escape from his hold and so he tightly grips his arm to stop him from getting close to [Name]. 

           When he turned to face the traveler, there was no sign of tears. Not in his eyes or in track marks on his reddening face. His eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, and hard. Once more, Aether was the enemy. Venti’s states had no greyscale, only the polar extremes existed.

           The blonde took in a deep breath, the burning hard stare would last only as long as it took him to think of the most brutally cutting things he could tear him down with. 

           “Let go of me, Aether!!” He ignored his request and did his best to hold him a bit longer until he calmed down. Venti gnashed his teeth and because of too much resentment he had for the traveler, he disappeared into the thin air with teal feathers fluttering along.

             Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he ran and ran outside of the city. His calves burned, his breathing forming clouds in the air becoming short gasps. He started cramping and his body shook uncontrollably, finally stopping in front of the giant tree in Windrise.

           He was on his knees on the ground, facing the tree, screaming and crying. His whole face is red and shouting at the very top of his lungs. His upper body and shoulders wrack with every sob that forces their way out, chest rising and falling unevenly as he gasps for breath, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

           He balled his hands into fists and gripped his hair to let out a blood-curdling scream. Unbeknownst to Venti, Aether chased after him after his disappearance and stopped in his tracks when he saw his curled up form. 

           “Venti…”

           The said male continued sobbing and disregarded his presence. “I’m taking the time you can spend with [Name] away for a good reason.” Aether justified.

           “Shut up…”

           “It’s only natural that this would be painful for you. You’re already carrying the burden of her illness on your body. So please stay strong for her.”

           “Shut up!”

           The archon lifted his unsteady body and faced him. Endless streams of cries continuously flowed on the sides of his face and choked out, “I made her cry…”

           “No, you were worried about her condition.”

           “You’re wrong.” Venti countered.

           “I’m not.”

           He dashed at him and punched his chest making him fall back on the ground. “You’re wrong! You’re wrong! She fell sick because of me!” He shouted and proceeded to throw punches at him repeatedly.

           “You had nothing to do it with.”

           “You’re wrong!!”

           Each punch slowed down and grew weaker, allowing Aether to ease his raged up condition while Venti mindlessly poured out all of his emotions onto him. 

           “There was nothing anybody could’ve done.” The former muttered under his breath. 

           “Shut up!”

           “Just like how the unknown god captured my sister from me. I couldn’t do anything to save her there… Nothing can be done about this.” The bard’s brows creased as he went quiet and stopped hitting him.

           He already lost count of how many times he had cried on this day. His gaze cast downwards as he fell on the ground, breaking down. 

           “[Name]… [Name]…” Aether knelt down before him and rubbed his back reassuringly. “Why do you write those letters?” He inquired whilst his shoulders trembled.

           “Because everyone has feelings they want to deliver to someone.”

           “Who cares about that? They don’t have to be!” It only brought him more pain and isolation, and so Aether can be quite sure that the cries are of the desperate pain that keeps on slicing deeper.

           The blonde’s golden optics were flicked with dolefulness, continuing to stroke his back. “No letter that could be sent deserves to go undelivered.” Out of complete silence, the cry arose. Out of complete reverence, the things of the world stilled to listen.

           Venti’s mind was clouded with pain and sorrow, his heart grew cold and numb with pent up emotion. Over lands and seas, through forests and valleys. Every ear in the universe stilled to listen, every heart broke, so heavy so miserable his song.

 —

            It was the final day and they have eventually finished writing. It was time for Aether and Paimon to take their leave. Venti sighed in relief to receive the news that there were no more letters to write. No more Aether of taking [Name]’s time. And also no more signs to see the emergency food.

           They were currently outside the Cathedral as she wanted to bid them farewell and safe travels. His warm hand made contact with hers and secretly poked his tongue out at Paimon to annoy her.

            Her squeaky voice reached their ears and stomped her feet in the air as she faced her companion with an irked look. “Ugh, I can’t stand that Tone-Deaf Bard! Let’s just go already!”

           [Name] chuckled while Venti only brought her closer to his body and slithered his arms around her waist protectively. He puffed his cheeks out as they watched their figure disappear below. Unlike her, he didn’t wave them goodbye much to her confusion.

           She asked him about it in which she only received a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and a short yet sweet kiss on the lips from her lover.

           Aether was no stranger. He wasn’t a piece of bad news either. Deep down he knows he’s a thoughtful and sympathetic person.

           I wish I could’ve read the letters they wrote.

           He stole glances at her before pushing her inside the Cathedral to go back to her room and cuddle with her.

           I wonder who they were for.

           “[Name],” He called out. She hummed to let him know her attention was on him. He rubbed circles on the back of her hand and kissed the nape of her neck as he whispered softly against it.

           “I love you.” 

           A small chuckle slipped from his lips when he saw how her cheeks flared up from his confession. She turned around and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, attacking him with shy kisses.

           “I love you too.”

            Seasons fade in and out like soft lullabies, their transitions slow but never faltering. Like mother earth herself they only turn in one direction, always onward and never back as the wax and wane of the pace of city life changes. 

           In summer, everyone is high in energy, all systems go. With the first wash of autumn air, moving over the high-rises and suburbia like a shallow wave, the people slow down to a quieter pace. 

           The winter is flatter still, but never falling into a negative spin, the folks of this city love the snow too much for that. 

           Then spring comes to wake the metropolis: people, trees, and blooms. Folks walk under newly unfurled leaves, smile at the fresh new flowers, and tilt their faces upward to the new warmth in the sun's rays. 

           Soon summer is back and the seasonal carousel is complete for another year.

           All those seasons he had spent with her, he cherished them the most in his heart and held it dearly like a gift given to him. He kept the memories and spent his life with her during those past months.

            Here come the drops, soft and steady, falling from a sky of white velvet. They come all together and yet as pioneers. And though he is soon quite wet, he stood idly in front, letting the drops blurred his vision.

           They stood at the front of the funeral. Everyone's heads were down. Maybe it was them showing respect or maybe they were too afraid to look at what was coming. The coffin was pulled from the hearse by six strong men, all wearing suits. The silence dwelled as they exited the church. It wobbled as they carried it to the front and gently placed it down.

           The coffin was dark stained cherry and it was perfectly polished. It had a cushioned and silky lining. Struggling to hold back the grief, tears flow steadily. Silently down the immobile face, a feeling of ache swarmed within him. The numbness and emptiness remained as they walked behind the mahogany coffin— the soul unwilling to acknowledge the finality of death, never to look upon her face again or feel her embrace.  To see the warmth in her eyes, or be surrounded by her love. 

           Words from the minister, speeches at the service bring a fresh onslaught of tears, well-spoken words, a tribute to her life and love, everyone in black, dusky pink roses on the casket; they all watched the casket lowered into the grave through tear-stained eyes. 

           One by one they all left, leaving him alone standing in her grave, as he cried his goodbye to his love.

 —

            A dove was soaring in the sky, fluttering its wings in the air as Venti watched it fly over to him. In its feet was a paper rolled and clutched onto it. When it landed on his lap, he gently took the item from the bird and unfolded it.

           His emerald eyes scanned over the writing, taking in each word inside his head.

            Dear Venti,

           Happy birthday! I’m sure there are many things that make you sad. You may be crumbling under the weight of your responsibilities. But don’t give in.

           Even if you’re so lonely that it makes you cry, please don’t forget that I’ll always love you.

            A lone tear dropped on the paper as his cheeks were stained wet from reading the letter he had received. He brought it close to his chest as if it were her that he loved holding so dear.

            Four years passed by, and the fourth later had arrived.

            Dear Venti,

           Happy birthday! I love you with my aura, placing it about you like the deepest star-filled sky. Space and time have no meaning for my love, it has always been boundless and eternal. It is a love that self-sustains through even the meanest of winters, its own heat, and light is the warmth, the hope.

           Even if you were cold to the core, I would wake you like the spring wakes the flower and watch you grow, watch you bloom. Everything that I am is yours… All I ask is to take care of yourself in the same way you would care for a person you love completely, in the same way, I love you.

            The twelfth letter was delivered.

            Dear Venti, 

           Happiest birthday, love! I love you so very much sweetheart. I have a hard time explaining how I feel. I have never felt anything like this before. You are always there for me no matter what. 

           You are the most loving, caring, compassionate, and absolutely most incredible person that I have ever met. Thank you for always being there, for the flowers— they are beautiful, for your kind words, hugs, kisses, and unconditional love. I have never in my life been so very happy. I feel much loved, beautiful, and very happy.

           I'm so proud of you. You are a very strong person. It is really amazing that we are strong for each other in different ways. We truly understand each other and feel for each other. When you hurt, I hurt. When you are happy, I'm happy. I just love you so much and I never want to lose you. I give you my heart, my love, and my life for now and forever. 

           I love you.

           He always waits for each year for his birthday to come, for her letters to be delivered to him. The messages were getting longer and longer as every year passed and even the past memorandum he had received, he still kept it with him.

            Happy birthday, love! I hope you know that it’s okay to cry once in a while. Whenever you're anxious or afraid, always remember I’ll always be here. I love you more than life itself. There are no words I can say to truly tell you how much I really love you.            

           I want to thank you that you were the reason I stayed strong even if I was sick. I learn more and more from you every day. My heart is forever yours. I know saying, "I love you" is powerful, yet I feel it's not enough. 

           You give me the most amazing feelings inside. It feels great to actually love and be loved in return. I love you so much, I wish I could repeat it to you so many times.

           Please remember, I’ll always and forever be watching over you.

            Now here he was at the hands of the Statue, watching the skies move as the dove once again landed on his shoulder. His eyes caught on the sight of the dandelion seeds soaring past as a smile tugged his lips.

           He remembered [Name]’s wish for him when they were out here to blow the seeds away late at night. So every time he sees a dandelion up above in this statue, it reminds him of her and he’s here to fulfill it.

  —

            “Welcome back.” Jean greeted from the office as Aether placed the stack of letters on the table. “That’s a lot of letters.” Kaeya whistled in amusement and ran his fingers on it to feel the scratchy and thick envelopes.

           “They’re letters set to be delivered to Venti over the next fifty years.” He announced and stretched his arms to relieve the cramps formed in his limbs. Lisa almost spitted on her tea and gawked at him in surprise.

           “F-fifty years? No wonder why you wrote so much.” She set down her cup and grabbed a napkin to wipe her lips.

           “Were you alright?” The Acting Grandmaster asked in worry. Aether and Paimon nodded as they smiled. “It was no biggie for us.”

           “I must say this is a wonderful idea,” Kaeya remarked and grabbed a stack of it to feel the weight on his hands. “I’m already excited to see them delivered every year.”

           “Me too, but…” Their chattering ceased as their focus went on his face which had his cheek dripped with liquid. It was surprising to see the traveler cry in front of them, though they didn't dare open their mouths to point it out.

           “By the time they are, [Name] will already be gone and she’s still so young— so quick to get lonely, will have been left by the one he loves so much.” Crying is natural and strong for it belongs to those with the courage to show their vulnerable self, and this was none other than Aether himself.

           He recalled the day he saw both of them snuck out from the Cathedral. He didn’t mean to watch them, but he knew how both of them cared for each other so much and their love for one another just by observing [Name]’s words written on the letters and Venti’s affectionate yet protective hold on her.

           He understood how Venti felt. He knows the feeling of losing someone you love so dearly. The bard already told him about his history with his friend from long ago and now that it was recurring again, it aches his heart to know he’ll lose someone again.

           It’s like history is repeating itself.

           “He’ll be all alone again. I…” He balled his fists and closed his eyes tightly. The tears trickled down his face as he sobbed quietly. The members of the Knights approached him and rubbed his back to comfort him.

           “I was fighting back tears the entire time I was there.”

           “Yes, but Aether,” Lisa lifted his face and looked at him with gentle eyes. “He will receive the letters you’ve assisted [Name] writing in.” He wiped his tears and eyed the envelopes with lustrous vision.

           “Besides, no matter how far apart they may be…

            loved ones will always watch over you.”

heavily inspired by violet evergarden

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact venti x reader #venti x reader #venti #genshin impact venti #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact fanfictions #genshin x reader #aether #elliwrites #venti angst

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Drink Up - Geralt of Rivia x reader

Summary: Traveling for hours on end can become exceptionally loathsome, but with a bottle of something strong to pass the time, things get very interesting indeed.

Warning: reader and Jaskier talking about sexy times, reader getting drunk and things get entertaining, the trio being goofs tbh

-reader is part of my Geralt series (Of Monsters And Men)

Masterlist

With not a whole lot of entertainment sprouting forth from the nearby scenery of the continent most days, or by the unfortunate lack of abundant random wanderers to cross your path. You’ve become accustomed to imploring very creative ways in amusing yourself while wayfaring the roads with your two favorite traveling buddies.

A Witcher, to handsome for his own good, and a lovely yet mildly annoying bard.

You’ve been currently hiking on this forest trail for half the day without much to pass the time. Sure Jaskier has delved into giving you all a show with his ballots and fantastic lute playing skills. But there’s only so much of that angelic voice you can take before it turns into the most goddamn irritating thing you’ve ever heard.

Also you’re pretty damn certain that Geralt could have been one more strum away from knocking the bard out cold, thus pleading for you to leave him there for the next unlucky fellow who decides to wander by.

The sun on the other hand keeps her great golden colors beaming across the landscape, warming the earth to a comfortable temperature on this calm spring afternoon. It’s been a good hour since anything interesting has happened and this stick you keep flipping around in your hand is not cutting it.

Pressing onward, your mind suddenly sparks with an idea, surly an idea that will stir up some much needed conversation on this rather dull trip though the peaceful woodland. Smirking to yourself, you glance to your right where Jaskier is walking with lute in hand, oblivious to your growing mischievousness.

Then your crimson gaze trails a small distance ahead where Geralt sits atop of Roach, his snowy head faced forward as he relishes in the quiet of the green woodland. Gods he looks like a proper knight, with that dark armor, sword on his back, and all that manliness seated atop his grand stead. Hmm, delicious.

Casually twirling your stick here and there, you turn your attention over to Jaskier who’s looking away from you, “Psst...Jaskier.” You whisper, making sure Geralt can’t hear.

The bards head snaps over to you in an instant, a new intrigued curiosity overtaking him, “Yes?” He whispers back just as quietly, blues darting over to Geralt who’s none the wiser.

You casually shrug, using your normal speaking voice now, “Just wanted to make sure you haven’t forgotten your name.”

His face falls, “Y/N.” He whines disappointedly, “Come on I’m bored as shit.” Complains Jaskier like a whiny little toddler before he huffs and pauses for a moment to think. Suddenly he taps the side of your bicep with the back of his hand, you raise a curious brow as he shrugs, “You got any good stories?”

Searching your extensive past of palpable events for a moment, your face quickly lights up, “Ohhh better then a story. Get a load of this shit.” You muse while pulling out a bottle of wine from your traveling pack, “Stole this from some pricy vendor. Figured it’d have some purpose sooner or later and right now I need it sooner.” You chuckle while popping off the spongy cork and taking a hearty swig.

Jaskier lets out a breathy laugh as he watches you fully enjoy your stolen beverage, “Not sure if I should be impressed or concerned.”

“Don’t worry I’ll share but only if you indulge me.” You quip before taking another gulp before bringing the bottle to your side, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before speaking, “I have a question for you my dear lover boy.” You inquire with a wiggle of your brows.

Jaskier smirks, ready for the challenge and some wine, “Ask away.”

Whipping your stick around, you point it at the bard, “Okay. And be honest, I can tell if you’re not.....what’s the best part of a woman?”

Jaskier nods, his face shifting into one of legitimate deep thought as he takes a considerable amount of time to contemplate the possibilities, “Well, I guess I’d say I’m decently fond of a good smile,” Admits the bard before he lets out a small chuckle, “cause if they don’t have one it’s regretfully difficult to watch them enjoy themselves if you understand my meaning.” Adds Jaskier, nudging your arm with his elbow as you roll your ruby irises.

“Hmm alright well you’re a fucking snooze.” You deadpan as he suddenly lets out a burst of laughter.

“Oh I didn’t realize you wanted all my inner most personal tastes, is that it then?” He wonders as you chuckle at his little half offended outburst.

“Tell me what gets you all hot and bothered and I’ll indulge you in my own appetites.” You add slyly, giving him a mischievous wink while continuing to twirl your stick and sip more of your strong liquor. Damn this stuff is strong.

He nods in understanding, a cheeky smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he decides to indulge you, “Well the lady asks, where to start?” Questions Jaskier.

“Oh I don’t know. Let’s say, personality aside cause we’re not here for that shit right now..” You swat the air theatrically before taking another sip of your drink, “...what do you think? Firm or soft, maybe even a little saggy?” You suggest, making a squeezing motion with your one hand while your stick is tucked underneath that arm.

“I’d say both. A breast is a breast.” He confirms Jaskier with a laugh.

“A man of all dishes served I see. I respect the inclusion of diverse variety.” You add with an honest nod of approval. “Alright. Are scars a turn off if severe?”

“Taverns are dark for a reason Y/N.” Muses Jaskier with a knowing look causing you to snort with laughter.

“Fair point.” You wheeze.

“Okay Y/N/N, my turn.” Inquires Jaskier as you hand him the liquor.

“Lets hear it.”

He gives you back your bottle, “So....what’s so intriguing about that old grumpy wolf up there?” Questions Jaskier as he nods towards Geralt who’s minding his sweet business from his perch on Roach. No doubt probably listening.

Biting your lip, your eyes linger on the broad leathered back of your silver haired lover, “Are we talking physically or personality wise?” You wonder while turning your attention back to the bard, your voice lowering a couple octaves, “cause let me tell you he’s not much for words most times...” You lean in closer to Jaskier before whispering, “but I can get him moaning so goddamn fast.”

“Oh gods. Please tell me everything.” Presses Jaskier with a laugh as you take another sip from the bottle. Shit, you’re already feeling buzzed, guess it is much stronger then once previously thought.

Giving Jaskier a fangy smirk, you point the stick in Geralt’s general direction, “You asked so you’ve been warned. This man can come absolutely undone within minutes, literally all I gotta do is call him some cute names and lick his cheek...you know, feel him up a bit. Get him feeling all loved and appreciated you know?”

“Really?” Inquires Jaskier, enjoying your progressively drunken shpeel of personal info regarding yours and Geralt’s sex lives.

“Oh fuck yeah, but what really gets him off, is if I undress in front of him and then get all dominant and rough you know. He loves that shit.” You explain with a smile as Jaskier stares at you in awe. “He’s a moaning mess after I put on the charm, practically cumming at my command. The fucking power I have.” You mumble proudly with a shake of your bottle, though you try and keep your voice down.

“Y/N, you are, quit the woman.” Points Jaskier like a proud father watching his daughter marry to a prestigious lord of great wealth.

“I know.” You add with a shrug, clearly self confident and half drunk by now, “I’m a seductress what can I say?” Taking a moment to drink some more wine as Jaskier holds in his laughter.

He watches you trip on nothing before regaining your bearings a second later, “So uh, how you feeling?”

You give him a fangy grin, raising your bottle in salute, “Fantastic.”

“That’s good.” He muses, clearly not believing you, “How’s the wine?”

“Delectable and worth every coin!” You whisper yell, raising your bottle once more, the dwindling contents swirl around, some drops falling out as you bring the glass back down to your side.

“I thought you stole it?”

You snort, “I did.”

“Hmm alright, maybe uh....maybe slow it down on the intake Y/N?” Says Jaskier, taking notice of your new inebriated state and knowing all to well what you’re like when fully drunk of your ass.

“Fuck off bard I’m fine.” You mutter with an elated snicker before starting to giggle like a drunken jester in a kings court, causing Geralt to turn his head to the side in interest before shrugging and looking down the trail once again.

“You sure?” Half worries Jaskier, though in truth he’s absolutely living for the situation unfolding in front of him, “I’d rather not have you puking later.”

Scoffing you take another sip, “I’m not getting sick Jaskrr, I’m just horny.”

Brows raised in surprise, he coughs, “Oh, that’s um...good....I think?”

Almost tripping over a jutted out root, you bite your lip while eyeing up Geralt hungrily, “Now that....is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen and you know what?”

“What should I know?” Wonders Jaskier with interest, making no faults to decrease how he’s clearly egging you on.

Grinning with a face full of mischief, you snicker, “Well....I can say I’ve seen his dick.” The bards eyes widen in amusement as you continue, “Which is...by the way....very lovely and large, he knows how to please a woman if you know what I mean.” You mumble quickly with a wink as Jaskier snorts.

“Oh, that’s good to know. What else is nice about him?” He agrees while successfully baiting you on further.

“Hmm mhmmm. Big muscles, Jask, big muscles.” You emphasize while leaning into the bards side and squeezing his less then impressive biceps, “Oh and he’s so good at hugging and cuddles.” You squeak with joy, shaking Jaskier as you swoon over Geralt, “Ugh, I love it when he’s shirtless and he looks at me and I just....ugh I’ll take my pants off so goddamn fast.”

Shoving his face into the crook of his arm to keep from laughing, Jaskier does all in his power to refrain from losing it while you lean away, stumbling around on the trail, oblivious to how hilarious he’s taking everything you just confessed to him. The biggest lovestruck grin dancing across your features as you stare longingly at Geralt’s leather clad back. A flash of lust rising in your smiling expression as you eye him up.

“I want.” You mutter, throwing your stick to the side as you make a childlike grabby motion with your hand.

“Y/N he’s on a horse.” Explains Jaskier as you make a face.

You scoff, sending Jaskier another dirty look, “You don’t understand.”

“Y/N it’s the middle of the day and we’re in an unknown forest.” Warns the bard, “Not exactly the time or place for whatever is brewing in your head.”

“Nuthin’s brwing in me head Jask.” You slur, tripping once again before just barely catching yourself.

Jaskier gives you a less then convinced expression, seeing straight though your terrible lying, “I don’t believe you.” He says while you frown.

“But he looks so delicious.” You whine with a dramatic pout, “And I’m so fecking horns right noww ‘cause of....wull, I just’am!” You grumble, turning your head to face Jaskier with an angry little frown before a mischievous smile begins to form upon your lips.

Jaskier blinks, knowing all to well what drunk you is capable of, “Y/N. Don’t you dare.” He warns.

“Waterr you gonna do bart?” You challenge, pushing him though its a weak assault that does nothing significant, “Fight me? I’ll kick your little pixie ass.”

Shaking his head, Jaskier takes a cautious step away from you, “Definitely not. Actually you know what? He’s all yours, go get him Y/N.” Urges Jaskier, really anticipating the possible beautiful disaster that may just soon enough present itself.

Raising your brows in pleasant surprise, you down the rest of your bottle, “Ha! Yu’r not as stupi’s ass’he says yur. I knews it. All along, nev’r a doubt in my mind really.....I sw’r it........promise.” You slur, the alcohols affects really starting to delve into your system.

Jaskier’s brows furrow in confusion, not one hundred percent sure how he should take that, “Well, that’s good I suppose.”

“Yes.........it is....... isn’t it.” You agree with a couple quick nods that look like a small child who’s trying desperately to get their parent to agree with them, “Okay, I’m go’in ta get h’em ov’tha house now.” You pause a moment, brows furrowing in thought as you grab Jaskier by the shoulder, “Horse. That’s uh, what I mean.....yeah.”

Jaskier opens his mouth to say something but you’re already stumbling quickly down the beaten trail much faster then he’d anticipated. You zero in on Geralt’s fine leather armored back, your vision slightly blurred and your legs a bit wobbly from the strong alcohol you’ve managed to make empty in less then ten minutes.

Shaking the fuzziness from your head, you drop the empty bottle in the dirt before hustling to Geralt’s side. Stopping quickly, halting a moment to gather yourself before walking onward, continuing side by side next to his feet and Roach’s middle.

Geralt hums before casually turning his head to find your beaming face with the dark of your eyes as big as a ceramic plate. Raising a brow, the Witcher throws Jaskier an odd look before shifting his attention back down to you.

“Y/N?” He mutters, not sure if you’ve eaten something you shouldn’t have or were recently hexed by some random fairy nearby. 

Letting out a little burp, you hold your hands close to your chest all the while giving him the biggest smile, “I’m....in’loe....v..uh, love....with’u.”

Geralt let’s out a humored snort at your intoxicated self while you await his answer to your grand declaration of love that he was indeed able to understand, “Sorry, I’m taken.” He quips, obviously teasing you though you’re to drunk to realize this.

Frowning you look at the ground in disappointment, “oh.” You whisper sadly causing Geralt to legitimately feel bad until your whole demeanor shifts to heated aggression, “That fucking bitch!” You shout coherently through a small slurred wavering in your angered voice, scaring some perched crows from their keep as well as a couple of innocent rabbits.

Geralt listens to the muffled laughter of Jaskier as you throw your hands up in aspiration before letting out a colorful stream of curses, “No good dirty whore faced dog shit horse shit bitch who’s clamed h’em ferr the’own!”

“Do’snt mak’any sense! I have a sw’urd! I can run....really fast! I’m half vampurrr goddammit!” You shout into the woods, struggling to keep your words together, “I’m pre-destinated...pre-dun.....pre-dragons....destiny, de-destined to be seductive! I am sexy!” You shout dramatically.

“Okay, Y/N let’s not wake something or someone with ill intentions.” Interrupts Geralt as you make two frustrated fists, your face appearing rather angered, crimson eyes dancing with hellfire.

“No!” You snap before turning an accusing dagger up at him, where you got that he’s not sure, “Tell me..who’s this-this donkey wumunnn! So I can...grrr....so I can uh, so I can...” Quickly looking down, you struggle to put away your dagger back into it’s designated sheath, you frown once again before shifting your face into a fake, yet rather convincing smile, “I just’uv sum’thins to say to’er. Thas’all. Promise.” You add sweetly, grin as shiny as a barrel of shimmering pearls and honestly a bit sadistic if he didn’t know any better.

Chuckling at your adorable drunken antics, Geralt shrugs, “She’s from a far away land. About a couple leagues from here northwest.”

“Wha’else.” You demand urgently, tone authoritative and hostile.

“She’s pretty tough, and very beautiful.” Teases Geralt as you scowl in irritation for this unidentifiable cunt who’s taken your man.

“Disgustin.” You scoff, flicking a hand upward as you mutter, “Go’un.”

“She’s got the most lovely body I’ve ever seen, and her laugh is more angelic then all the greatest singers in the entire continent.” He confirms with a handsome smile that would have you swooning like a fair maiden if not for how filled with hatred you are right now. 

“Blah.” You dismiss while sticking out your tongue in disgust, “Com’un giv’m a name. Then I’ll handle the’rst.”

“I don’t want you to hurt her.” He mutters with a shrug, holding back laughter at your amusing facial features.

“I won’t.” You sass, making a face before mumbling, “Jus’wanna talk....re’memr.”

“I don’t think I believe you Y/N.” Affirms the handsome Witcher much to your frustration.

“I jus’wanna fucking talk!” You growl as Jaskier cackles in the background, clearly enjoying this conversation though you can’t understand what’s so funny.

Snapping your head in his direction, you squint your eyes at him menacingly before yanking off a hanging thin branch and launching your new makeshift weapon full force in his general direction. He yelps in surprise before ducking, the wooden assault just missing his face by mere inches.

“Dear gods Y/N!” Gasps the bard with wide eyes as you snicker at his dramatic reaction.

“Fuck’ov h’was gonna tell me!”

“No he wasn’t!” Argues Jaskier while fearfully clutching his lute to his chest, afraid you might start swinging.

“H’was and I’m gonna fuck’n kill that bitch!” You snap angrily as Roach snorts, having not a single iota what the hell you’re saying. Only that you sound like some wounded beast on their last hour.

Rolling his baby blues in annoyance, Jaskier shouts back, “There is no other woman or man or any fucking forest nymph that Geralt has any sort of eyes for! You-you crazy woman!”

“How’u know? He doesn’t tell you shit!” You yell back, emphasizing the last word with some heat.

“He does! For your humbled information.” Protests Jaskier sassily while Geralt silently listens to you two idiots scream at one another in the middle of some large lumbering forest. His drunken lover and his, perhaps he could say it, friend who happens to be a bard.

“Oh really?!” You challenge, “Wel’in who’s this fuck’in cunt who’h said he’s with’en? Huh?!” You shout back.

Jaskier let’s out a stream of incomprehensible mumbles before throwing his hands into the air in frustration, “That’s because this woman is you, you drunken bat!”

“I’mnut drunk! Nor’m I a bat!” You yell, ignoring the fact that he confirmed you’re indeed Geralt’s lover, “I didn’evn drink tha’mush!”

“You drank the whole bloody bottle!” Claims Jaskier, much to your great shock and bewilderment, that Geralt struggles to keep himself from losing it atop of Roach.

 You scoff, clearly not believing a single thing out of this bards mouth, “I dunt see’a bottle!”

“That’s because you threw it somewhere!”

“Wel’wy woulda’ do’tha?” You snap, hands fanned out to each side in puzzlement like an angry castle pigeon standing up to a hulking statue.

“Oh I don’t know...let me think for a brief moment here...oh right! Because you’ve drank more then a king on his wedding night!” Shouts Jaskier as Geralt rolls his golden eyes, moving to jump off of Roach.

Standing oblivious to your Witcher who’s no more then five feet away from you now at ground level, your eyes start to grow darker as your frustration grows in this hazy state you’re in. “Mayb’if I knuck you’ot wit’a lute then’ull shut up!” You slur, taking a threatening step forward.

The bards eyes widen in fear for a moment as he sends Geralt a desperate glance, “Geralt!”

“Y/N.” Mutters Geralt gently in that grumbly voice of his, causing you to immediately turn in his direction.

Eyes softening, you instantly break out into a joyful fangy grin, “Yes.” You mumble happily, eyes shifting from his boots to his face as you shamelessly check him out.

“Come here.” Beckons your beautiful Witcher with a pleasant smile upon his plush lips, his arms soon reach out for yours and quickly enough they intertwine.

You blink back your slightly blurred vision to witness as Geralt’s lips flicker from your mouth to your shimmering irises of ruby red, a second later he pulls you flush against him for a heated embrace. Just want you wanted. 

Your lips move passionately against his own, a delighted smile forming as you enjoy the feeling of his tongue inside your mouth. Then all to soon he pulls away and your lips are left empty and wanting so much more.

Pouting you make an adorably angered face, “Wul’that wasn’t nearly s’long as it coulda been.” You grumble bluntly, suddenly yawning as you try desperately to keep focused on his face. His beautiful face. So pretty, so kissable, so lovely.

Dark spots skip and flare through your fading vision until without warning your legs feel like they’ve turned to pudding, giving out from underneath you in an instant and all you’re able to witness is Geralt’s lovely face before....

Darkness.

——

Waking up from a deep sleep, your eyes open to the sound of a fire crackling nearby, the sweet smell of grilled leaks wafting into your nostrils that aids in fully awakening your senses. You let out a sleepy yawn, sitting yourself up from your once previous positioning on your rolled out travel sack underneath you.

Sitting criss crossed, you wipe the bleariness from your scarlet irises before sucking in a deep breath and blinking, your sights now set on the campfire in front of you, a beautiful glow of bright oranges and gold. Geralt and Jaskier on either side, both quietly talking to one another before turning to face you. A knowing smile on either of their faces. Oh, Gods what did you do? And how did you even get here?

Shifting your confused gaze from Jaskier to Geralt and back again, you raise a puzzled brow, “Would any of you be kind enough to tell me how the fuck it’s already dark out?”

“What do you mean Y/N? It’s sunny as a summers day.” Confirms Jaskier with an honest smile, blue eyes looking into the fire as he strums a cord on his lute.

Shaking your head, you sniff, “Okay fuck you.”

Jaskier laughs as Geralt lets slip a couple chuckles before explaining, “You drank all of that wine bottle you stole.”

“Shit.” You mutter while rubbing your temples, “Who let me do that?”

“You did.” Adds the bard.

“Did I threaten you? I feel like drunk me was yelling for some reason, my throat kinda feels weird.”

“You were trying to get me to tell you the name of my lover.” Affirms Geralt with a laugh, “Which is obliviously you. Though drunk Y/N thought otherwise.”

“Fantastic.” You deadpan before turning on your side and laying on your back, deciding to relax once again, “So, how’d I get here? I forget after I was telling Jask about...uh, well...doesn’t matter.”

Smiling to himself from the explicit information you slipped to him about yourself and Geralt in the bedroom, Jaskier chuckles at that while Geralt moves to lay down as well, his head close to yours as you both make an L on the ground. “I put a drop of sleeping potion on my tongue and when I kissed you...”

“You gave me tongue and drugged me?” You confirm with a breathy laugh, honestly quit impressed he managed to pull that off so smoothly. Well, then again you were drunk off your ass.

Geralt hums, “It was either that or let you kill Jaskier. It was a tough decision really.”

“What?” Gasps Jaskier, “You had to think about it?”

“And he chose to slip me some enchanted sleeping juice instead. You’re welcome.”

Jaskier scoffs, “Yeah well you wanted to fuck him in the woods so....shut it.”

“We still can,” Mutters Geralt with a smile, face turned a bit so he has a better view of your face, “if you want.”

Smirking back at him, Jaskier almost chokes on his own spit, “I am right here. Right here Geralt. Right here.”

You laugh at the bards dramatics, “We never said you had to watch.”

“Wha-thats besides the point! And just, ugh please don’t....” Whines Jaskier, making a face of disgust before frowning, “or at least just wait for me to fall asleep.”

Laughing, you give the bard an agreeable nod, “Don’t worry we will.”

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