#is this why??? because he reminded him of shoal? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catsafarithewriter · 3 months

Note

Cliche trope but Baron/Haru fake dating that went to full love confession?? 😅. Or Muta and Toto betting on whom among Baron and Haru will admit their feelings first 😅 sorry for the overtly used trope

A/N: With tropes like these, there's a reason they're so popular! One fake dating coming right up!

(And if you want more, I have a fake marriage au, Marry Me Twice on AO3, and a half-finished series of fake dating/marriage snippets on tumblr!)

At this point. Haru decided, she really shouldn't be surprised anymore when Baron got himself into these sorts of situations.

After all, she tried to remind herself, even she hadn't been immune to his charms upon their first meeting, and in the many years since he hadn't toned down his charisma one iota. He simply had a natural pizazz to him, a flair that drew and kept the eye. It was just a nuisance that he was oblivious to his effect until it was too late.

Still, one would think he would learn after the sixth accidental engagement.

"We've got a plan to get him out, right?" Haru deadpanned to the remaining (thankfully unengaged) members of the Bureau. "We're not just gonna sit back and watch him be married off to the faerie queen, right?"

Muta snorted. "I say we leave him there as a distraction while we get on with the case."

"Or Muta and I can do that, while you recover him," Toto said. "The changeling child should be around here somewhere. Just remember - fae can tell if you're lying."

Haru regarded the swirling ballroom before her. It wasn't built of brick and mortar, but of living trees and vines. The canopy knotted so thickly overhead that the only light to be found was in the glow of the mushrooms, bioluminescent fungi clinging to the trunks that served in place of pillars. Its occupants only had the barest resemblance to humanity - all feathers and antlers and fur - that left her the stark outlier. "If they turn me into a frog for my impertinence, you'll save me, right?"

"We'll make yer a pond with only the finest lily pads."

"Fantastic." Taking that as the best reassurance she was going to get, Haru waded into the sea of twirling gowns and gilded waistcoats. She worried that she would have to elbow her way through, but the dancers parted, if only as far as her next step so that she felt like a shark ineffectively swimming through a shoal of fish. Only sharks probably didn't feel like they were next on the menu.

At the far end of the ballroom was a bower. And in the bower was the faerie queen - and Baron.

Haru bowed. "Your Majesty, I thank you for your hospitality in welcoming us here, but I am afraid to say it is time we took our leave." That was probably fine, wasn't it? Not too formal? Not formal enough? Should she have broken out the 'thee's and 'thou's?

"Then I bid you farewell."

Haru waited. When she didn't hear Baron make a move, she cautiously glanced up. She immediately saw the reason for Baron's inaction; the faerie queen's hand is still rested on his. It was gentle, but deliberately possessive.

"I plan to leave with all of my friends, your Majesty."

The faerie queen smiled. "I'm afraid the Baron has decided to stay."

Haru glanced to Baron and raised an eyebrow. "Has he now?" She knew him well enough to read the apology in the quirk of his lips, and the belated realisation that he might have messed up in the flicker of an eye. She raised her other eyebrow in reply.

"Indeed," the faerie queen said. "After all, he has been such a gentleman, so charming and attentive, that his true intentions could scarcely have been mistaken for anything other than an affair of the heart."

"You think he's in love with you?"

"And why wouldn't he be?" the queen asked. "Have you seen any as beautiful as I?"

The fact that the faerie queen was indeed mesmerisingly stunning - despite, or perhaps because of the feline glint of her eyes or the vines that grew in and along her skin - was immaterial. Haru couldn't do anything but agree when the person in question could curse her with less than a thought.

Haru bowed again. "None are your equal, I'm sure, but that was never in doubt. I only ask because Baron is a gentleman at heart, and prone to being charming and attentive to all. Regardless of intent." Or awareness.

"And how, pray tell, are you so sure of his intent?"

"I know because," and a dozen lies paraded through Haru's mind; she grabbed one at random before her hesitation would betray the deception, "he's already in love with someone."

"And whom may that be?"

Without a shadow of a doubt, Haru knew that she would have to supply any mystery suitor she named. She offered what she hoped Baron knew to be an apologetic, I'm-only-doing-this-to-save-your-skin smile. "Me. He's in love with me, your Majesty."

The music never stopped, the ballroom conversations never quietened, but the silence in the bower was deafening. What was it Toto had said earlier? Fae can tell if you're lying? Well, it was too late for that now. Haru waited for the faerie queen to call her out on her deception, but she only tilted her head, like a dog catching an intriguing scent.

"Is this true?" the faerie queen asked Baron.

Baron looked to Haru.

Haru looked back.

Lie, dammit.

"Yes," he said. He started to say something anew, floundered, and tried again. "Although I have attempted to keep such feelings within, my heart belongs wholly to Miss Haru. It has for some time now."

Haru's traitorous heart skipped a few beats, as though this wasn't a ruse she herself had started. She blinked, and managed to refocus on the queen. "So you see, your Majesty, you can hardly marry Baron when he loves another."

"Indeed."

"So with that, we should take our leave-"

Haru's hand caught Baron's and started to lead him from the bower, only for the faerie queen to suddenly stand. Baron and Haru both halted in instinctive self-preservation.

"Wait."

The faerie queen descended from the bower, an uncanny grace to her movements. It was like watching a panther, just before it pounced.

"But how can you talk of leaving after such a heartfelt confession?" she asked. "Surely, on a night like tonight when the music compels you, two lovebirds such as yourselves cannot pass up the opportunity to dance. At least," she added with another glimmer of her feline eyes, "any true couple wouldn't."

Haru felt her smile thin. She bowed, hoping it would hide the waning enthusiasm. "Your Majesty is always correct. If you would be so kind, I have a song request for your musicians, should they know it."

"Our musicians are well acquainted with much of your mortal music. Go ahead."

Haru rose from her bow and, after conferring quickly with the musicians in question, swept with Baron down to the heart of the ballroom.

"Katzen Blut?" Baron asked as the first few notes started up. "It has been a long time since I've heard this."

"It's the only song we've ever danced to. I thought it might give us a fighting chance of actually pulling this off." When Baron still seemed a little too nonplussed by the situation to respond, Haru placed his hand against her waist, ensuring they at least looked the part. "Sorry. I panicked, and that was the first excuse that came to mind."

"It was quick thinking on your part. Just... unexpected."

As the music rolled into a swing, the two of them started into a familiar waltz. Doing her best to ignore certain realities, like the fact that Baron was so close, close enough to kiss, Haru focused on easier topics. "So. What is this, the sixth time you've ended up accidentally winning someone's heart? This is getting to become a habit, Baron."

Baron had the decency to look suitably sheepish. "I thought I was merely offering her Majesty the respect befitting one of her station. If I had known it would be misinterpreted as such, I would have..."

Haru waited, and nearly flattened several of his toes when she misjudged a step. "You would have...? Go on. What would you have done differently?"

"I might have gone easier on the purple prose of her beauty."

"Gee, you think?"

"Perhaps pare down on the extravagant bow."

"Another good option."

"But, in my defence, I was left in charge of distracting her while yourself and the others located the missing changeling child."

"We asked you to distract her, not marry her."

"I haven't married her."

"Not yet. If we'd given it another half hour though..."

"Yes, you've made your point quite clear."

Their dancing neighbours glanced sidelong at them, ears perked at Baron's curt voice, and Baron swung Haru out into a twirl to deter any eavesdroppers. It would have been a far more impressive move had Haru been wearing a dress but, as things stood, the best she got was the sweep of her coat hem.

She swung back into Baron's arms, closer than before. "How exactly did you try to tell her Majesty that you weren't interested, anyway?"

"It's... complicated."

"What, you mean there wasn't a nearby rooftop to jump off after telling her you admire a woman who speaks from the heart?"

"Haru..."

"All I'm saying is, that worked great on me." Well, mostly. The fact that Haru had gone on with her life, then fallen back in with the Bureau, and then fallen for Baron again was neither here nor there. The important thing was that it had successfully snapped her out of her schoolgirl crush - just long enough for her to think things through and then develop one-sided pining later in life.

"It is... surprisingly difficult to refute a fae's attentions without causing insult."

"And anything too subtle goes right over their heads," Haru finished.

"As you discovered. If I had known that all I needed to do was confess love for another..."

Haru snorted. "We both know that was one hell of a risk. I don't even know how we managed to sell that lie, given everything we've been warned about the fae."

Baron was studiously not looking at her. "Indeed."

"I mean, I don't know what even possessed me to say that. Realistically, I should have been cursed into a frog, or something, for trying a lie like that, I don't..."

The penny dropped.

"Wait, Baron-"

"Change partners!" Baron cried, and twirled her into the arms of a fae with antlers and canines.

"Oh no you don't." Haru spun away from her current dance partner and, as best she could in time with the music, whirled from one whistle-stop faerie to the next. Baron might have had Creation grace and years of dance practice, but Haru had five years' worth of stubborn pining pushing her on.

Eventually, she landed back in Baron's arms.

"You don't just get to waltz away like that when I'm having a revelation," she scolded. "Faeries can sense lies, right? And you'd think the queen of faeries would have an extra-sensative bullshit-detector, right?"

"Not quite how I'd put it, but-"

"Not the priority right now. So, with that in mind, how the hell did I manage to convince her that you were in love with me?"

"You are a remarkable young woman, Haru, perhaps-"

"Perhaps, unknown to me, I wasn't lying."

"Haru-"

"Are you in love with me?"

"I... admire you-"

"Do not. I'm not a schoolkid anymore, Baron; I can handle a rejection just fine. Are you in love with me?"

Baron opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried several more times to no effect.

Haru groaned. "One of these days, we'll actually get to finish this dance," she muttered and, dropping her hands away from Baron, stormed back towards the bower.

"Enjoying your dance-"

"When Baron said he was in love with me, was he telling the truth?"

The faerie queen faltered. There had been the briefest flicker of rage at Haru's impertinence at interrupting her, but now it was swept away by a knowing smile. Suddenly, Haru knew why her halfway deceit had been allowed to go on; this was all entertainment to the queen and her kind.

"Yes." the queen replied.

"What the hell?" Haru turned, seeing Baron wading free from the dancing crowd, and repeated for good measure, "What the hell, Baron?!"

"I cannot help how I feel, Haru, but I thought that, if I kept it to myself-"

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I... didn't want to make things awkward between us," he said. "You are my good friend, Haru, and I never wanted to lose that. If it meant I had to push away such feelings to keep your companionship, then so be it-"

"I've been in love with you for years, you idiot."

Baron's mouth snapped shut. He blinked. "Oh. You are?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

Some kind of nervous, almost hysterical laughter bubbled through Haru, and she pushed it back with some herculean restraint. "Because, Baron. Because you're kind and determined and I love spending time with you. Because the heart wants what the heart wants, and sometimes what it wants is an emotionally constipated cat figurine who has now been accidentally engaged six times."

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh. I can't believe I've been pining after you, thinking, 'oh there's no way he feels the same way,' all this time, just to..."

Baron stepped up to her and she let him take her hands in his. "Why wouldn't I fall for you?" he asked softly. "How could I not, when you are the bravest, most compassionate, stubbornest woman I have ever met?"

Haru sniffled, and she only realised then that she was dangerously on the verge of tears. "Not many people would woo someone by calling them stubborn, you know."

"It's one of my favourite things about you. You don't give up, Haru, even when the rest of the world wants you to. You'll stand up against a Cat King, against pirates, against monsters." He cupped her cheek in his hand and brushed away the beginning of a tear. "You'll stand up against a faerie queen to save those you love."

Haru grinned, began to offer up a retort, and then remembered the audience they had. One glance confirmed that the faerie queen was sat, quite happily, and looking like all she was missing was a bag of popcorn.

"I think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss," she offered helpfully.

Haru looked back to Baron, blushing. Only her familiarity with him betrayed the mirror blush beneath his fur. She leant in. "Well," she said. "If a queen expects it..."

There came a heartstopping crack, like the snap of a bone or a sharp clap of thunder, and a tree crashed across the ballroom. The music juddered to a halt. All conversation ceased. And in the ringing silence...

"Move, move, move!" Muta and Toto came thundering through the gap the felled tree had left. Muta had a swaddled baby cradled in his arms. "Baron, Chicky, we've got what we came for. Time to go!"

#the cat returns #cat writes #so it turns out my other fav cliche (aka 'what the hell do you mean yuo're in love with me why didn't you say so earlier')#made a surprise appearance #look. is it really true love if they don't shout at each other when they discover the truth? (probably yes)

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dawndelion-winery · 2 years

Text

Somewhere For Us

It's been some time since you've parted ways, and the start to reminisce what could've been

Ft. Kazuha, Ningguang, Childe, Menogias

Kazuha:

He thought it was for the best to leave your life when his family fell to ruin

So off he went to find himself without telling you, hoping you'd be furious enough to forget about him out of spite

Oh how everything reminded him of you

He'd come across this great tree in Liyue, parts of it shimmering like noctilucus jade

He remembers how the younger you had looked through the shipments from Liyue, sneaking some of the jade into your room because they'd looked so pretty

He found you before anyone else had, helping you sneak it back into the shipments lest you got into trouble

A warmth fills him as he imagines how you'd react to the tree

Perhaps it was time he made his way back and take you along with him

Ningguang:

Ningguang wasn't someone who would be called sentimental

She did what it took to climb to the top and she never looked back

But not all paths are straight, and she finds herself at a turn, facing the life she once knew

It was chance that brought you both to Yaoguang Shoal, her spying you from afar, sat on the shore the way you used to with her

Not bothering to stop the smile that creeped on her face, she picked up a starconch and sat beside you

For a moment, you didn't say anything, as though you didn't know she was there, and she didn't look at you either

Like strangers, the two of you sat side by side, looking out into the horizon

When she gets up to leave, she drops the shell in your lap before uttering a farewell

She walks off without hesitation, returning to her work, wondering if you'll think to listen to the starconch and hear the words she never got to tell you

Childe:

He knows better than anyone that he had no right to expect you to be waiting for him

After all, even he had told you it would be for the better if you forgot him

So why was he still looking around the port, hoping to see you there with his family?

He was never a good liar, and his parents told him you'd left, moving on to greater endeavours

It felt bitter on his tongue as he voiced the realisation

"So they're gone now..."

His parents looked worried, but it sooner turned to confusion when he turned to his siblings with the brightest smile on his face

He told them snippets of his travels, and when Tonia asked if he was sad about you leaving, he didn't seem bothered in the slightest

"They've waited for me long enough, don't you think? I'll see them again though, because now it's my turn to chase them."

Anyone could feel something was different from the boy who once looked at you with a far off longing

Is eyes now held an unwavering determination

He'd follow you to the ends of Teyvat if it meant he'd see you again

Menogias:

The yakshas didn't mingle with people

It was simple enough, their karmic debt wasn't something humans could handle

He was the one who said it'd be best you keep your distance

And yet it would seem Liyue wasn't as vast as he'd hoped

Regardless of where he roamed, he somehow found himself heading towards you, peering at you from a distance to see if you were alright

If you were happy

Did you miss him, perhaps?

Whenever he sees you smile he's reassured that he made the right choice

But then come the lows when he has to fight the urge to rush to your side and hold you

It's a cruel game he forces himself to play

It's only when he has no choice but to step in and protect you that your eyes meet his in a long while

And his resolve crumbles

His half hearted attempts to pull away from you are easily thwarted by your hands around his wrists

He was never good at telling you no anyway

Taglist[send an ask to be added/removed]: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @euphoric-author @paradise-creator @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @serenenation @loverofthe-stars @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @howlantic @codename-hiraeth @andreiling01 @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kazuha #ningguang #childe #tartaglia #kazuha x reader #childe x reader #ningguang x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin kazuha #genshin ningguang #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #menogias x reader #menogias #winery specials

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wh6res · 3 years

Text

three's a crowd | nomin

synopsis. picking favorites is impossible when you like neither of them.

warning. read at your own risk. abuse, bullying, poly relationship, yandere themes, manipulation, nonconsensual touching, noncon, degradation, smut threesome oop

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think jaemin or jeno would act like this in real life.

note. this was meant to be a new year's gift lmao i obviously got a lil carried away 👀 anyway a late happy new year to you all! we survived 2020, let's start living in 2021, yeah? lmao if covid lets us grr mwah!

the relationship you had with the two of them was a weird one, bordering on taboo, but it wasn't as if you willfully chose to be who they wanted you to be and it took jaemin's unwanted pining and jeno's intimidating demeanor for you to fall right into their arms.

it was a joint effort on their part, you couldn't've possibly stood a chance.

"this many?" the cashier asked. "are you sure?"

stepping back and studying the whole situation, you figured you only had your addiction to caffeine and procrastination to blame. it was a chain reaction you didn't even know will lead up to your inevitable doom.

if you hadn't been slacking off during your first semester of junior year college, you wouldn't be forced to overwork yourself trying to catch up to the looming deadlines, but to be able to 'work yourself to the bone' you need your boost of energy… and that was when you met one of them.

"uhm," you scratch the back of your head sheepishly as you eye the six glass bottles of iced coffee. sure, it looks bad and you kinda appreciate the look of concern the cashier throws your way but it was none of his business.

"yes. now could you, like, you know… hurry up? i'm in a little bit of a time crunch right now."

screw it. although you hardly snap like that with other people on a daily basis, it'll be a whole different conversation if you were under a significant amount of stress and today, unfortunately, is one of those days.

now can he just fucking stop asking questions and give you your six bottles of death drink to keep your fucking brain going so you can pass an eight-page essay tomorrow? thank you very much!

the guy snickered, the beeping sound of a barcode being read sounding a thousand times more annoying than it usually sounds as he keeps his hand busy by punching your items out.

you fail to notice how he studies you through the gaps of his lashes, finding you interesting rather than threatening as you stood before him with your messy hair and oversized hoodie.

"haven't seen you around university grounds 'till today," he tries striking another conversation with you. "you new? i'm jaemin."

this was your first mistake, you shouldn't have been so… downright rude when you met him. if you were granted the miracle of meeting him a 2nd time, you would've acted more nice, throwing yourself at his feet even to blend in with the rest of his fangirls you didn't even know about at the time. you would've done anything to make sure he never gives you a second glance, to never pique his interest.

jaemin is the pep squad captain. flying over colored blue mats and doing tumblings in the air with no ounce of fear. he was the best in his team, that much was evident when your friend dragged you into watching a pep rally practice. his landings were clean, balanced, and executed to the best he can at all times.

no wonder he was popular, his talent is outstanding and his looks are a bonus. his killer combo of a smile and wink after pulling off a tough flip is enough to send them squealing in their seats.

he spotted you that day and since then, he snuck the quickest glances at the bench during practices. recognizing you as the coffee girl he met during his convenience store shift. jaemin tries not to let his disappointment show too much when he doesn't see you, but of course, a pair of cold calculating eyes could see right through him.

"i saw that," his boyfriend said, hand darting forward to hold jaemin's gym bag for him. "you kept looking at the crowd. do you want to see her that much?"

"but she reminds me so much of you, jeno!" he retorts, pouting at the slight grumpy tone the other boy used. "i can't help it. she doesn't seem to give a fuck around me so she's quite interesting. maybe she can even be a great addition to our relationship!"

"well," jeno replies after a beat of silence, plastering a small smirk on his face before slinging an arm around jaemin's shoulder.

"convince me?"

you don't like jaemin's attention. not in the slightest. and it seems that was enough reason for the reign of terror his little fanclub has subjected you too.

it wasn't the petty elementary forms of bullying like pulling at your hair or calling you names. they pale in comparison to the other things they do to you—beating you up, messing with your homework, "accidentally" dumping their food trays on you.

and you weren't stupid.

you knew exactly who was behind it, knew how jaemin spectates the whole thing from afar so that he can swoop in at the end to play your knight in shining armor.

"oh, you poor thing. do you need help?"

the first time you accepted his "help" you ended up in a supply closet near the gym during your free period, cornered and weak as your cries for help drowns under the squeaking of shoes and the booming sounds of rubber balls hitting the floor.

if it weren't for jeno appearing out of thin air and prying the boy off of you, you would've been painted blue and red from the death grip he had on your wrist, neck, and waist.

you can still remember feeling the soreness of your scalp from when he pulled your hair too hard. remembered feeling his teeth gnawing at your lips as if he wanted to tear them off.

that time hadn't been the first time you saw jeno. you've shared a few classes with him and it strikes you how polar opposites they are with one another.

while jaemin likes to bask in his professor and classmates' recognition by confidently reciting his answers, jeno would rather keep to himself. liked sitting at the last row, near the window, so he'd be the first to go once the professor ends their lecture. while jaemin loved the attention of his fangirls, jeno preferred solitude. while jaemin is impulsive and wild, jeno liked to think things through.

it was within these reasons that you decided to do what you did. but your judgement of character has never been more wrong.

you approached jeno one day in the library, tried to make yourself appear as stoic and confident as possible. but your constant slouching and averting eyes was a dead giveaway.

you came to talk to him about what jaemin has been doing, hoping there's one person left in this entire school that isn't under the cheer captain's trance. the one reasonable person that has already saved you once and (hopefully) is willing enough to save you again. the only one that probably has a certain level of control over jaemin, if the supply closet incident is anything to go by.

but you've overestimated lee jeno.

"you should've just given jaemin what he wanted."

"but—but aren't you two lovers? isn't it bothering you?"

you try baiting him, only for an uncomfortable shiver to start crawling down your spine when he chuckled humorlessly, pushing his school materials to the side while pinning you with an unreadable stare.

how can a person make someone feel so small just by a gaze alone? it was nothing like you've felt with jaemin. this is way worse.

"the only thing that's bothering me is why you're not ours yet."

you feel cold fingers creeping their way under your shirt, going higher and higher until it brushes against your bra. and when your eyes meet, the look on his face was unmistakable—what are you going to do about it, huh?

you stood up in lightning speed, the chair you've been sitting on scraping loudly against the floor.

you've never ran out as fast as you did.

and jeno swears it'll be the last.

you tried everything in your power to ignore them for the next following weeks but it soon became useless when the two boys took it upon themselves to give you your space.

although judging by the pinpricks you feel on your back, and the constant weight of a stare you feel on your shoulders, you knew they weren't done with you yet. far from it. and for some reason, you just knew they wanted to lull you into a false sense of security first before striking again.

and while they continued to ogle at you from afar like a hawk circling its prey in a desert, you took it upon yourself to return the favor. not because you were the slightest bit interested in those creeps but maybe, just maybe, if you look hard enough you'll find a way out, a weakness.

but what you realized made your insides churn in great discomfort—although it may seem that jeno holds the reins in the relationship since his reserved nature fits the role, it's actually the other way around.

jaemin might appear too self-centered, too focused on himself to give a fuck about his surroundings but in actuality, he has quite a knack for reading people. even more so than jeno. and it was scary how he used it to his advantage, and paired up with his devoted fangirls? it was hell on earth.

you found it alarming how the two seem to magically appear wherever you are.

although you weren't in the least bit surprised. for some reason, you can't take your eyes away when jaemin's devotees flock around him (and jeno) in a circle.

it almost reminds you of a shoal of piranhas, waiting for their meal to drop into the water before ripping it to shreds with their teeth. only their "meal" isn't actual flesh but the carefully crafted words jaemin says that drive them into a sick frenzy.

one that has them doing everything in their power to satisfy him like the loyal dogs they are.

so this was how he got them to bully you?

"oh, that? don't worry! yangyang just ran into me during cheer rehearsal. no biggie. my cheek stung a little bit, though…" is what he said but really he's telling them "scruff him up a bit for me, why don't ya?"

"of course, i can't be the best all the time. haechan is just too good, maybe even better than me…" is what he said but really he's telling them "can you remind him where his place should be?"

all the while jeno did nothing to hold him back.

no matter how wrong jaemin is, how much of an asshole he is, jeno will stick by his side through and through. so as much as jaemin is a puppeteer that gets a kick for controlling people, jeno is as much at fault for looking the other way.

because in jeno's perspective, why the fuck would he do shit when he can just get off from the entertainment that comes with jaemin's sweet little mind games?

we lost :(

you had been busy sorting through paperwork for one of your professors in the faculty when your friend texted you the results of the intercollegiate cheer dance competition. a frown paints your face, heart feeling heavy at the bad news.

in all honesty, you still supported the pep squad—you just hated the captain and his boyfriend. they've been practicing non-stop for this and prior to the weeks of the competition, jeno looked a lot more tense and jaemin less smiley than usual. you swore you even saw the latter snap at one of his fangirls.

not to mention, they paid less attention to you, too, and it was the best three weeks of your life.

tension starts rising in your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly running through the edge of the papers you had been sorting until you became immersed with your thoughts.

jaemin must be in the worst mood yet.

and jeno too, probably. if anything, that guy gets triggered the most when something bad happens to jaemin or when he catches snippets of people talking shit about his oh so "perfect" boyfriend.

jeno is a lot scarier when jaemin is in one of his mood swings, you noticed. he steps up in the relationship to offer comfort to the other boy and for outsiders? it isn't a great experience to go through—being on the receiving end of jeno's ice cold stare is a position you don't want to find yourself in after that time in the library.

he is still as much a threat to your peaceful life like his lover.

you snap out of it when the blinding headlights of a vehicle seep through the closed blinds. you hear the gentle hum of an engine switching off as the headlights vanished as quick as they had appeared. that must be the cheer squad's bus.

as you look around the empty faculty room, something in your gut tells you to ditch file sorting duty for professor kim tonight and fucking get the hell out of campus grounds as quick as you can.

after haphazardly throwing the unsorted papers back into the cabinet, you groan aloud when the keys to the office drop out of your skirt’s pocket.

the indoor gym where the cheering squad practices is right across the hallway. you sure as hell don't want to bump into jaemin. or jeno, too, if he had decided to ride along the cheer squad's bus on the way home.

you kept looking for the keys underneath the cubicles, cursing aloud when you heard the telltale squeaks of shoes rubbing against linoleum. you almost hit your head against a table when you quickly got back up your feet, darting forward to shut the lights for the faculty room.

they can't know you're here. alone. and if it meant sitting in the dark for a few hours 'till they leave, meant going back home a little later than usual is what you have to do then so be it.

you try not to react so violently when the door you're leaning on jolts when someone from outside slams their back against it.

"it's not like we didn't do our best, right guys? i don't have regrets. it might sound fucking cheesy and although i'm sad myself, atleast we did what we can."

it's jaemin. his voice clear as day.

you try peaking, craning your neck up from your place on the floor. only to see the back of his head leaning against the glass section of the door. someone else joins in on the conversation, followed by coach park himself, and you slowly tune out whatever they're saying as you stealthily start scanning the faculty room.

you curse under your breath. is there no other exit other than this door? jesus christ! even classrooms in this university had two doors—

"what are you doing here?"

the switch flickers on, basking the once dark room with light. only when you hear an echo of your name being called, did you snap out of it and quickly picked yourself up from the floor.

"i said, what are you doing here?"

their coach asks, drilling the question as he looks at you skeptically with his arms crossed. you try not to look at the people behind him.

particularly, not at his cheer captain standing on his right.

particularly, not at jeno, who stands out like a sore thumb with his blue hair, a protective arm snaked around jaemin’s shoulders.

this isn't your lucky day, too, you guess.

"i was…" you cursed yourself for stuttering. "i was, uhm, i was file sorting for prof—professor kim, sir."

coach park looked like he didn't believe you as he narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. your nerves are going haywire and you can feel the sharp pins of their stare with how close they are.

you kept juggling your weight with the balls of your feet, hands fisting and unfisting behind your back. you want to leave. you have to leave.

"file sorting… in the dark?" he asked incredulously.

fuck this.

"uhm, you can ask professor kim himself tomorrow, coach. for now, uh, i'll be going now. i'm sorry you guys lost…"

originally, the exit is on the right side, at the end of the hallway. but no, you are not going to pass by those two while on your way out so you ducked behind a random student standing on the coach's left instead and practically ran away from the scene.

everyone had been too busy. too busy looking at your retreating form to even notice jaemin and jeno exchanging glances, too busy to notice the latter untangling himself from their captain to slip away unnoticed, his hurried steps filled with a burning purpose.

you didn't know why you ran, but you did. your shoes practically booming against the floor as you sped away through darkened hallways. you're sweating profusely, heart hammering in your chest. you can worry about professor kim tomorrow but right now you just had to—

"why are you in such a rush, pet?"

crashing into jeno felt like crashing into a wall. if it hadn't been for his arm quickly wrapping around your waist, then you would've landed on your butt before him.

with the small distance between the two of you, jeno could see as clear as day through your eyes.

jaemin was right.

it was addicting to stare into them.

especially when he can see every single one of your thoughts flying through your pretty little head. but hey, it wasn't their fault you were so easy to read.

jeno barely conceals the wicked smirk on his lips when your hands come up to his chest, trying to push him away but to no avail.

he can see your eyes shifting from shock, to confusion, until it finally settles on fear—to which it's slowly becoming a favorite emotion of his to see on your face.

"you know, jaemin is in a really shitty mood right now. and we were wondering, maybe you can cheer us up?"

no. this can't be happening.

"jeno, please." your dilated eyes and disheveled hair made his blood run south. "let me go. you don't want me. you don't need a third party in your relationship."

you yelp when he lets you go, literally shoving you against a wall—which you found out is actually a door, as it swings open as soon as your body crashes against it.

with jeno looming unforgivingly before you in his full height, the tears stung extra hard but you won't let them fall.

if he wanted to bask in the image of your weakness then it'll be something you'll deprive from him for as long as you can.

"i don't need a stupid bitch like you to tell me what i feel." he scoffs. "don't fucking kid yourself, you little whore—i don't want you. i'm not jaemin."

the echo of the classroom door shutting closed surged through you like a wake up call.

this is really happening.

you've always led a decent life, had done nothing too questionable and you've always thought maybe life will spare you if you lived quietly enough. but the feel of jeno's freezing hands crawling against your skin felt like life itself had spat at you in the eye and left you to rot in a ditch.

"i've always liked how you wore skirts," he comments. playing with the ruffled hem of the soft fabric as he purposely grazed his knuckles against your supple thighs. "gives me easy access, don't you agree?"

you scream when he flips your skirt up to reveal the innocent pink of your cotton panties. it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you and the will to fight started coursing through your veins.

"stop! jeno! i don't want this!"

his brows furrow, grunting as he struggles to push the waistline of your skirt up higher with how much you're thrashing underneath him. you buck your hips, tried curling in on yourself, anything to prolong what he wants to do to you.

with your legs trapped underneath his, you blindly reach forward, relying on your upper body instead to push and scratch whatever your palms and nails reached.

you continue screaming like a banshee until he shoved two fingers into your wet cavern.

"stop fighting me," he sounded strained, as if he's holding himself back. you feel him fisting the fabric of your skirt and you fear he's simply going to rip it apart.

you tried responding to him, only the sound had been muffled, gurgled by the flat of his fingers pushing down against your tongue mercilessly. when you reach forward to push him away, your hands land on the apple of his cheeks, nails digging through skin.

until it slips and—

you lie rigid when red scratch marks in the size of your fingernails slowly appear on jeno's skin, his head turned to the side as he paused. your actions slowly start sinking in to him as he shuts his eyes and bit his lip 'till it looked like it was about to bleed.

oh no.

"jeno—"

the slap he planted on your cheek left your ears ringing. all those hard earned muscles of his put to good use—if the tears hadn't fallen for the last few minutes, then it definitely started falling now.

the hit had been so strong, a few of your hair flew astray, the buzzing feeling of your skin tempting you to reach a hand up to soothe your abused cheek.

until jeno let out a low growl and your hand immediately drops limp against your body, afraid of whatever else he can do to you other than a slap.

"that's more like it," he whispers under his breath. you let out the tiniest of whimpers when his hand darts forward to fist your hair. "do you know what happens to bad girls? they fucking get busted up. do you understand me?"

his patience is nonexistent.

jeno slams your head against the floor when you don't answer because you thought his question had been rhetorical. it felt like your skull had been split in two as you wail in pain.

"are you fucking deaf—i asked you a fucking question!"

the hand that cups your jaw is painful as he squeezed your cheek with his blunt nails. your hand shoots up to wrap around his wrist, silently pleading for him to let up as you sobbed out loud. you started nodding as best as you can despite his firm grip on your face.

your reply was nothing short of pathetic. with lips forcefully pursed and the steady stream of your tears and snot rolling down your face, your response is gargled and hardly incoherent and jeno seemed to thoroughly enjoy your anguish if the condescending curl on his lips is anything to go by.

"look at you," he whispers, his face coming close to yours as he holds you down. there was something in the way jeno stared so intently that it made your skin crawl.

"i think you're prettiest when ruined like this."

with his nose touching yours, he felt too close, bordering on intimate as you felt his hand creep back up your thighs, trailing up with feather-like touches that made goosebumps appear on your skin.

you tried wiggling your legs underneath him but one sharp look from jeno is enough to make you stop.

the hand holding your face moves. coming down from gripping your face to encircling his hand around your neck.

"do you like it when i touch you? freaky bitch."

his hands trail further up, up, up until you felt him slotting a finger underneath your panties.

jeno didn't like how frozen you were underneath him as he pulls at the hem before letting go. the elastic snapping back against your skin.

the action evokes a strong feeling through the young male, promising to have you writhing and screaming and begging because by the end of all this, you'll be so needy and frustrated that you will have no choice but to give in to what your body wanted.

"jeno, didn't i tell you to play nice?"

someone stands by the door, the minimal light from the hallway creating a silhouette with his form but you knew who he was. that deep voice, with the same annoying flippant tone, is a dead giveaway.

you didn't know why you even hoped in the beginning. as if there'll be someone who can save you from these two.

you thought the flash of hurt in your eyes was quick to disappear but jeno noticed it quicker.

in a span of seconds, he pulled you up from your position from the ground and tugged you towards his lap. you haven't even gotten the time to settle on your new position when he already smashed his lips against yours.

it was messy. too much saliva. too much teeth. no tenderness to it at all.

the fabric of his jeans felt rough, not to mention the ice cold belt buckle made you severely uncomfortable as it seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

when you attempt to hover over his lap, jeno grunts as he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you back down without your lips breaking away from each other. you didn't know why he let out a whine, but you understood the moment you fully sat down on his lap and you felt a tent on his jeans hitting your clothed entrance perfectly.

in a normal circumstance, you would've found everything hot and might've actually gotten off from it but not when it's him who’s doing this to you and you didn’t consent to any of this.

you start squirming again. palms lying flat against jeno's chest as you attempt to push him away and jaemin sees this as the opportune moment to slot himself behind you, caging you in between them.

“i want my turn,” he hisses and without an ounce of hesitation, jeno stops to do what he's told.

jaemin doesn't waste any second to grab your face, awkwardly craning your neck up to meet his lips in the same feverish kiss.

while jeno had been all teeth and aggression, practically forcing you to open your mouth and kiss him back, jaemin on the other hand is more soft, more romantic, you daresay. he seemed to like taking his sweet time by clutching your face, kissing you like he actually meant it.

he pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against yours as he murmurs something incoherent under his breath and then he's kissing you again.

you think you heard something along the lines of, "finally."

you've been too distracted by jaemin to notice jeno's nimble fingers quickly fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. it was only when you feel the sensation of his tongue laving against the swell of your breast did you turn away from jaemin, jerking backward in surprise.

"no—!"

your scream is cut off by a hand cupping your mouth. jaemin pulls your back towards his chest, molding your body against his as jeno licked and suckled all he wanted, thankful to have the other boy there to not worry about restraining you and keeping you quiet while he has his fun.

"ah, ah, ah," jaemin teases, going hard over the pleading and teary look you sent his way. it looked pathetic, he wasn't going to lie, but it doesn't mean he didn't love it. "just keep still and appreciate jeno's efforts to take care of you, alright baby?"

you don't like how he talked as if this was all a mutual thing, how he talked slowly like you were some toddler who didn't understand anything.

it's cruel how jaemin giggled and basked in your vulnerable state as he kept his eyes pinned on you while undoing the zipper of your skirt. your muffled cries of his name only serving to egg him on.

the way he stared was similar to jeno, too intently and intrusive, like he wants to burn your image of despair in the back of his head.

you whined involuntarily when jeno got bored of all the licking and thus decided to start biting and nipping at your chest instead. he was hypnotised by how responsive you were, how every little bite and nibble made you shudder.

it was a shame that jaemin had to cover your mouth. he didn't get to hear your pretty mewls but it wasn't as if he'd let the night end without hearing them loud and clear.

jaemin is fast in undressing you, feeling slightly betrayed by how quick your skirt and blouse fell under his hands.

you know what he wants, what he's going to do, and the tears fall harder when you can't dodge away from him. forced to endure and accept whatever they give you.

"you act like you don't like it but look how fucking wet you are," you bit your lip hard when jaemin starts circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, fascinated by how more juices streamed down your thighs.

"jeno, do you see this? fuck."

you can only blink in defeat, staring off to the side as you force down any noise bubbling up your throat, forcing yourself to think of anything else other than what's happening right now.

you try not to think about how they managed to tear all of your clothes off while they're left completely dressed. tried not to think about the fingers lazily drawing up and down your slit to collect your essence.

if they're doing this as a way to further humiliate you, it's working.

"slut," jeno mocked, a wicked curl on his lips when he wraps his fingers around your throat. the moment he dives down to claim your lips again is the same time jaemin pushes two fingers inside you.

"look at how wet you are because of me," jaemin whispers hot against your ear and you feel a sick churn in your stomach when you feel his smile against your skin.

he purposely drives his fingers in and out quicker, settjng a brutal pace, wanting you to hear the lewd squelching sounds. "hear that? do you hear that, darling? that's because of me—"

"don't go talking big now, jaem," jeno retorts, pulling away from your lips to start nibbling on the back of your ear. "i was here first. did you see how she fucking reacted when i sucked on her tits?"

you're quick to catch how jeno particularly loved degrading you. but how he talks about you as if you're literally not in front of him naked made you hit a new all-time low.

you felt… filthy.

his hands find purchase on your butt—only because jaemin has already claimed the front. for now.

you close your eyes tight when he painfully squeezes the flesh of your ass. you swear, his blunt nails will paint your skin black and blue.

"i'm the favorite!"

as someone who's part of a varsity team, you already knew a competitive nature runs through jaemin's veins. but never had you thought jeno would share the same sentiment. once again they prove that they're cut from the same cloth.

all of a sudden it wasn't all about claiming you as theirs anymore rather it was all about who can make you moan the loudest, who can make you cum the most, who can make you feel the dirtiest you can be.

you're absolutely terrified for the hours to come.

thankfully, they have yet to ask for your verbal opinion or validation. they let your body do all the talking—every repressed shudder and sharp gasp is enough.

but it's game over once they pop the million dollar question.

"who do you like best?"

you don't want to find out the consequences if you actually answered their question because you didn't know what could be worse.

jaemin's manipulation or jeno's aggression?

but it was all normal. trial and error is inevitable in order to build and mold you into the ideal lover for the both of them.

because adding someone new to the mix has never been easy—after all, three's a crowd.

#nct imagines #yandere nct #yandere kpop #nct smut #nct scenarios #yandere jaemin #yandere jeno #jaemin imagines #jeno imagines #jaemin scenarios #jeno scenarios #jaemin smut #jeno smut

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lnevada · 3 years

Text

I have too many thoughts:

Of course Ray is on TikTok (Swellview alternative name).

The whole 10 seconds without internet bit. Living.

Ray is never allowed to wear tank tops (wifebeaters, cough* cough*) in an episode again. He simply wore too many in a single episode and has maxed out his limit.

The villain prison is so much more sophisticated in the Man’s Nest. Except for the facts that the villains are awake/mobile and crammed in one pen as opposed to having separate pens (why don’t they conspire and escape? Oh wait, they probably are in the 4 part special).

Monkey. Also, Cooper (the actor, not the character) picking up the monkey in the end scene. So adorable!

The use of ‘sus’ had me howling. Yes, it’s a video game reference (because Mika was playing a video game). BUTTTTT, Ray was also using TikTok and sus carries a queer connotation on the platform (and no I don’t ship Ray/Henry), but come on(!) invoking a man’s name like that? The kids just confirmed they know Ray is Bisexual. Don’t @ me, I will not be accepting criticism on this front.

HOW HAVE I GONE THIS LONG TYPING WITHOUT HYPING UP CHOPA’S HAIR? That tears it, I’m dying mine after graduation.

I’m a sucker for nicknames and I just love that Bose is the only one with a nickname (I feel like everyone should use it, but I’m ok with just his mentor using it for now). I think it really drives home his childlike innocence that the rest of the team doesn’t have.

Which, side note, the fact I view Bose as so childlike and ‘simple’ (not dumb because he is extremely smart; the language example I always go to), had me thrown for a loop that he’s going on 1000 dates for charity. And into it? Mainly to make Ray jealous, but still. Trying to grow the kids up because the actors are already so much older?

Wait to go Dana (not Mika) for owning that power suit and totally taking on the new character/persona for the dual role this episode.

Calling out Ray (Cooper) for being 40, I cackled. 😻😻😻

Have I mentioned I missed Schwoz and just enjoy having him on my screen?

The jars! Cute, but isn’t Ray really the only one who dabs?

The towels for the exorcist matched the teams’ colors, except Ray’s was white (for the wifebeater) and Schwoz’s was purple (a fem color since he’s usually paired with pink; but also it has religious connotations/those shoal things; praise the costume department).

Wait a minute, RT isn’t a ghost and that’s not how possession works.

The Exorcist is so outdated by today’s standards, but as a horror buff I appreciate the reference.

I love Michael (and Schwoz) so much!!!! He was so happy with that line delivery, I could see it on his face!!!

Also, also: Ray had the same joke/horror reference in Charlotte Gets Ghosted (HD).

I love the cardio joke. Because I always point out when there’s a running scene, Ray is doubled over and panting (albeit, he usually plays it off as due to his yelling at the same time, but not always) by the end of it like he doesn’t do cardio and he’s just all strength/muscle. Great call/meta joke.

Mika playing the video game inadvertently reminded me of the Flabber Gassed episode & Ray’s ripped muscle in the legs reminded me of the Massage Chair episode (HD).

Mika has so much control over her power now as seen through the precision of blowing the tiny item out of Chopa’s hand. Whereas RT had no control over the power despite possessing her body. She is probably the strongest DF member (despite Chopa claiming to be able to control the range of her power; something yet to be seen, but I’d like to).

I’m so excited for the next 3 episodes (in particular), but I’m super excited about the new season coming out!!!

#henry danger #danger force #new episode #cooper barnes #Michael d Cohan #ray manchester #df spoilers #references #meta jokes #call back #danger force spoilers #new season #don’t erase Ray’s bisexuality

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ellitx · 4 years

Text

Precious | Xiao x Reader

[Name] waits for the Vigilant Yaksha to come back as he went to meet a certain god.

note: i recommend reading it on AO3 (unedited version; refers Xiao as Xiao) or Quotev (edited; refers Xiao as Alatus) for the feels. tumblr’s text post is kind of weird for me

word count: 6.9k

“Xiao!”

A young feminine voice called out to him, chasing after his figure. His stride stopped, slowly turning his head to the source of the voice. Xiao’s amber optics were greeted by the smiling girl, her [eye color] orbs shining gleefully seeing him.

Since when did my name have a special ring to it only when you said it…?

[Name] walked forward and stood beside him, giving him another one of her bright smiles.

“This is fun!”

Her vocals echoed in his head as he reminisced the time they strolled near the Yaoguang Shoal, enjoying the serene and gentle breeze of the Liyue region. [Name]’s lips turned upwards as she enjoyed the presence of the Yaksha beside her. Just the mere sight of her soft and gentle laughs and grins made his heart tugged.

And if it made you smile, I’d do something over and over for you.

He reminisced about the time they went stargazing at the rooftop of her house near Dihua Marsh. Watching the umbra skies be splashed with little marks of white dots all around as it gives a source of light in Teyvat.

When did I start thinking such idiotic things like that?

They enjoyed their time being together, especially [Name], and not even realizing it was already morning. Hours and hours of late-night chatting and time have already passed by in a blink.

Since when did I…?

—

“[Name].”

The familiar voice of the Yaksha made her turn her head to face Xiao and raised an eyebrow at his sudden appearance.

“Eh? I thought you were out.” The female fixed her hold on the basket filled with white sheets that were supposed to be washed until Xiao called for her.

“Yes, but I forgot something to tell you.” Something urgent came up and for her not to worry he had to tell her about it. Sometimes this girl’s worries can come out of hand. He sighed internally at that thought but shook it off seconds later reminding himself of what he was doing here.

“I have to go to the annex.”

Xiao was very straightforward, he need not dawdle on any conversations, he’d rather want it to be forward and straight to the point.

After letting those words be released from his mouth, [Name] dropped the basket onto the ground and her eyes grew wide and turned glossy.

“Sorry I have to leave you alone here—“

“Wonderful. It’s wonderful. How lovely!” She cut him off and he was surprised to see how happy she was. It was not something the Anemo-vision holder was expecting. Why was she so happy about it?

“Huh?”

“It must be something important right? It’s alright, please don’t worry about me!”

Xiao’s eyes softened and lifted his gloved hand to lightly bump it on her head. His action made her look up at him in curiosity.

“Be good and wait for me to come back.” He said softly.

“I will! See you later!”

The female bid him a farewell and waved her hands at him, watching his figure disappear from the door.

"She’s so happy for you, huh?" Bosacius, another fellow Yaksha, cooed to him.

“Be quiet. Nothing good will come of it anyway.” Xiao scoffed at him as he turned his back.

"So scary~ You’re only kind to [Name], aren’t you?" The adeptus snickered at him.

His hands turned to fists, refraining himself to be ticked off by the teasing voice of his companion. He looked back at you for the last time at the door and saw you picking up the fallen sheets scattered on the ground and placing it back inside the basket. His legs lead him to where the annex will be held and went off on a journey, ignoring the winds mockingly lulling his ears.

It was a bit far from where [Name] lives. He wanted to go back and just stay with her but if he defies an order from a god, surely a consequence will come for him. Xiao gritted his teeth at the thought. A god who merely used him as a puppet for the archon and used his weakness.

How utterly disgusting his god is.

‘You’d better not lash out at your master, you know?’

“Shut the hell up.”

The Vigilant Yaksha’s voice was dark and glared at nothingness. How annoying these spirits are. Playing and annoying the man just for fun, to enjoy the sight of his weakness and see him be aggravated for their pleasure.

Xiao stomped his way to his destination, killing the hilichurls that were blocking his path. He released all his anger to these poor monsters. Fortunately, no one ever bothered him again, and finally reached the top of the cliff to see his master.

The one who’s behind the strings attached to him to see his sufferings, the puppet master— his god.

It already made him sick seeing him.

“Welcome.” The divinity greeted who was sitting idly at one of the stones, waiting for the man’s arrival.

“It’s been a while since we’ve talked face-to-face.” He smirked at the Yaksha.

His amber optics sharpened and clashed with the god’s black ones. The wind softly danced against them, their clothes ruffling and the leaves flying, though it only made the temperature drop down at the intense aura between the two.

“It’s okay. Come closer, my pitiful monster.”

—

[Name]’s gaze was fixated on the streams and lakes, the clear blue water, and bright azure sky made it a good time to do the laundry. She placed the last white clothing on the plastic rod and clipped it to avoid being blown away.

“Xiao should have arrived there by now.” She muttered to herself. “I wonder if they are dining together?” A chuckle escaped from her lips and imagined the immortal and other deities eating together in peace.

“Be good and wait for me to come back.”

The young woman placed her hands together and intertwined her fingers to pray. Hoping the Geo archon will hear her prayer.

I hope that Xiao will come back at least a little happy.

[Name] closed her eyes, hoping for him to come back to her abode safe and sound.

—

“How’s your duty? I suppose you have already killed tons of people, correct?” The god tilted his head to his side, enjoying the sight of the Demon Conqueror’s weakness almost crumbling to pieces in front of him. But Xiao won’t give in, the walls surrounding him are still strong. As if he’ll let the god do what he pleases.

Just hold it a little longer.

“I’m amazed at how you’ve slaughtered so many. Tell me, did you like it? Were those dreams you’ve devoured— their hopes and dreams— delicious?” The god’s stygian orbs glinted as he fiddled with the stones lying beside him. His grin only widened when Xiao stayed silent and presented his master with a cold glare.

“How’s the bet going? It’s impossible, right? It must be impossible.” He continued to smile in amusement when his puppet’s grimace didn’t falter.

“Now now, don’t look at me like that. That’s how it’s supposed to be… How it’s been from the start. It’s what’s been carved into the wheel of fate for those born with a spirit. Didn’t I teach you that it’s the fate of your lineage?”

The Anemo-vision user’s knuckles turned white. His nails dig deep into his skin and he can feel the blood dripping down. Xiao ignored the pain, it didn’t bother him the slightest but what did was the words that escaped from the lips of the deity.

“I have nothing to do with that fate! You made me do this! You’re the one who made me do this!”

Xiao grabbed the supreme being’s clothing and clutched it tightly, holding it upwards as if to choke him.

“Oh? You’re saying it’s my fault? Then let’s make a bet.”

Amber eyes widened at his sudden challenge but his grip didn’t faze. The god’s fringe covered his eyes, not even going to bother to face him.

“If you manage to break the curse in 2 years, I’ll release you and stop being your god. I’ll even let you enjoy the life of freedom. But if you can’t,”

The deity sneered at him, grin outspread on his face enjoying what was about to come for his puppet.

“I’ll lock you up permanently and you won’t ever run away from me.”

Xiao let go of him and stepped back. The upper being stood up, unfazed, and chuckled as he fixed his outfit.

Oh how amusing this was. He loves it, the expression the Yaksha is giving him. The despair in his eyes was so wonderful!

“If you can’t break it, you’ll truly become a monster to everyone.”

“Looks like I’m going to win the bet after all.” The god picked up the stone and chucked it in the air upwards and the weight of it fell back to his hands.

Xiao clicked his tongue in annoyance. “What? Don’t just assume that. There’s still time. You don’t know that yet.” The volume of his voice increased with each word left from his mouth.

The god suddenly stopped tossing the stone and gripped it tightly.

“Who’s the one who doesn’t get it?”

Before he could speak, the Demon Conqueror was cut off when something hard and rough scraped against his cheek. Xiao felt a stinging pain on his skin and watched the stone that was thrown by the god fell onto the earth.

“Why don’t you get it?” He repeated to him. His gaze was dark and his voice was so quiet that the vanquisher couldn’t almost hear it.

“How come? Did you forget?” The god lifted his own body away from the rock he was sitting on and looked at his puppet with mixed emotions. Anger. Disappointment. Annoyance. Frustration.

He tilted his head to the side and asked, “Why are you so deluded?”

The way he walks was rather crooked and hobbled, he slowly walked to Xiao and he can feel an unsettling aura surrounding the god.

“Remember. Come on.”

He stopped on his track when he’s finally in front of his follower.

“Remember that you’re a monster,”

Xiao gulped down the air that was blocking his throat and took a step back.

“And because you’re a monster, everyone is dead.”

Something snapped inside Xiao. His eyes enlarged and his lips quivered. “You’re wro—“

“I’m not wrong.” The god cut him off again.

“No, it wasn’t my fault!” He retaliated to his master loudly. His heart was beating so loudly and sweat was dripping on the side of his head. He opened his hand to summon his polearm but was once again ceased for an umpteenth time when the numen took his wrist to put a stop on summoning his weapon.

“It was your fault. You killed those poor villagers.”

“Stop. Stop! Don’t touch me!” Xiao wriggled his arm but it only tightened a bit more when the deity spoke in a dark tone accompanied by a threatening glare.

“Don’t give me orders.”

His fingers were shaking and only stared at the deity in fear.

“Those poor villagers. Even though they were just enjoying their peaceful lives, protecting their family, and raising their children, they ended up dying from your hands. And you don’t care about their death, not even mourning once for their death.”

The Yaksha’s lips hung open, he wanted to speak out but no words were coming out. His brows formed a crease between his forehead, fear, and confusion written all over his visage.

The dark aura is surrounding them so fast. It’s so suffocating, he wanted to get out.

He wanted to be released from this god.

‘Xiao, do you know how that poor child felt?’ Whispered the wind.

‘It wasn’t an accident.’ Another told him.

‘It wasn’t a suicide.’

‘Do you know how much grief you have caused to those poor souls?’

‘Do you understand? As a monster, do you understand?’

His gaze was so dull. There was no glimmer or spark in it. It’s as if he’s soulless… He continued to stare at his gloved hands that were splattered with blood. His polearm was lying on the ground, and fresh red liquid continued to drip forming a puddle.

Xiao’s thoughts subsided when he heard the voice of the divinity.

“You should have died. But sadly you can’t, you’re an immortal after all. Surely, if you didn’t exist, everyone would’ve been happy.” The god’s black eyes glinted under the dusky sky. He stared down at his puppet and tightened his grip on his wrist.

The air is so thick, it’s getting hard to breathe the more the god stays close to Xiao. It’s so suffocating, the atmosphere is too heavy. He wanted to escape from his grasp. He wanted to be free.

I killed them…

Scenarios of red splatters and cries of pain and agony flashed before him. The screams of the children and adults resonated inside him. Lifeless eyes and cold bodies continued appearing to remind him of what he had done.

I…

A lifeless body of a young woman.

“Please stop!” Xiao cried desperately either to the god or the spirits.

“Please… stop…” He begged and fell down on both of his knees. “Please… just stop…” The deity released his hold on his arm and turned his gaze to the birds perching on the branch of a tree.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking…” The god smiled and knelt down to the vanquisher’s height and offered him another one of his all-knowing smiles Xiao despised so much.

“Is [First Name] [Last Name] the one who’s been encouraging your delusions?” He placed his fingers beneath his chin, feigning that he was lost in thought.

“She was unperturbed after seeing your true form.” The vision holder looked up at him in panic and shock. “How do you know that?”

The numen’s body raised and let out a huff, glancing once again at the birds. “She’s really amazing. Almost like an angel? The Holy Mother? Or more like…” His voice drifted off and stared at the vulnerable immortal in amusement, letting his lips form into a smirk.

“...a monster?”

Xiao gritted his teeth when he mentioned the female. How dare he call her a monster?! It filled him with rage inside. If anyone talks bad about [Name], he immediately beheads them or kills them in a flash. But this was his god, no matter how much he wanted to do so, they both knew who had the upper hand.

“Really, don’t you think she’s too perfect?” He asked and furrowed his brows together. “Aren’t people who are too perfect actually scary?”

“A monster who’s too perfect. That’s what [First Name] [Last Name] is.” The god hummed to himself, slightly absorbed to know just who this girl Xiao attached to is.

“People would normally run after seeing you in that form, no doubt.”

It was raining hard outside and the skies were so gloomy. Xiao’s face was hidden by a blue and teal mask. He dropped down his polearm as it let out a loud thud.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Standing before Xiao was [Name], she looked at him in shock and stayed silent. She could only stare at him, speechless at seeing this form. Black and teal mist were surrounding him. She knew that it was dangerous to get closer but she insisted to stay put.

She didn’t run away from him.

Xiao closed his gloved hands and gripped them on his pants.

“How…”

The god curled a brow and faced him, letting out a confused sound.

“How can you say something like that?” The immortal stood up slowly and looked at the deity.

“You don’t know anything. You weren’t there at the time.” His brows furrowed and glowered at the person in front of him.

“How can you, when you weren’t watching? She wasn’t born a monster or anything. How can you?” His voice was getting more aggressive and it irked the god. Xiao was enraged at what the divinity was saying as if he was there. As if he saw what happened and claimed that [Name] is a monster.

How disgusting. It made his stomach wrenched in aversion. How dare this god assume everything.

“You…”

The female hugged his arm, she didn’t care if her clothes were getting dirty or how it was already painted in red. She didn’t care if her clothes were getting wet because of the rain. She didn’t care how muddy her hair was.

She didn’t let go of him.

“You don’t know how scared she was. How can you say that?!” Xiao’s voice was rough when he screamed those words out.

Her hands and voice trembled.

She was cold. Her face was pale,

She was afraid…

Even just remembering that moment tugged his heart. It hurt him to see how scared [Name] was in seeing it in that form.

“Even so…” Xiao muttered.

“Even so— she didn’t run away from me!” The god groaned and placed his hands on the side of his head to cover his ears. “Shut up.”

“She didn’t run away from me!” He repeated.

Xiao’s god turned away and continued to tell him to shut up. The god was acting childish, he was so stubborn to listen to his puppet. He didn’t want to hear any of it, it annoyed him. But Xiao continued to speak out, his voice getting increasingly louder. It was uncharacteristic of him to raise his voice.

“She… she held my hand!”

He let out a small gasp when a realization struck him.

She knew that if she let go of my hand. I would never return.

The female continued to hold on to him and tears were flowing down on her pale face. Her hold on him was firm, to let him know she would never let go no matter what. She was stubborn even though fear was present on her face.

[Name] was scared yet she didn’t run.

“Why… why are you following me like nothing’s the matter?!”

[Name] was trembling from fear yet she continued to stay.

“I said stay away!”

[Name] continued to stay for Xiao. She was afraid she'd never see him again if she let go of his arm.

That I might never return to anybody.

No matter how much Xiao pushed her away, she won’t budge. He pushed her again but with more force and it was a success, it sent the female flying to the ground at the strong impact from the immortal. But even so, she stumbled on her way up to reach for him.

“What’s wrong with you? Are you blind?! We both know I’ve done this!”

She didn’t take up all of my pain.

He raised his hand and stared at the bracelet dangling on his wrist that was given by the mortal.

She didn’t fill in all the brokenness.

Xiao grimaced behind the mask and gripped his hair.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!”

[Name] crawled her way to the Yaksha slowly.

“I don’t need any of your pity!”

Xiao thought she’ll finally leave him alone when she turned her back away from him and walked away. [Name] glanced at him over her shoulders. It hurts her to see him keep pushing her away. But that doesn’t matter, what matters the most is that Xiao is the one hurting here!

‘I won’t run away!’

She ran up to him at full speed— occasionally stumbling on some branches but still continued to go after him.

When their distance was nearing, she reached out her hand at him and wrapped her slender arms around the vanquisher, and held his head close to her chest. His golden eyes widened at the intimate action and he felt her small hands tugged on his shirt.

But those… those weren’t important.

Tears continued to pour on her visage and so too did the rain. He can hear her sniffing and feel the warm droplets on his shoulder.

“Let’s go home. We have to go…” [Name] pleaded to him.

“Back home!” She lifted her face up and stared at the male with persistence and determination.

Xiao clicked his tongue and pushed her once more.

“Let go of me.”

“No!”

“Don’t you get it?!”

“No, I don’t get it!”

He grabbed his polearm and swung his arm forward so the human will struggle to grasp a hold of him.

“I said let go of me!”

Her hair was so messy that strands of [hair color] were sticking on her face, she shook her head vigorously and clutched on his shirt tightly.

“Right now, even though I hear your voice, it doesn’t sound like you. You’re in a form I’ve never seen and it scares me.” Her voice cracked and continued sobbing but she held it back. She has to stay strong. Xiao knows that she’s afraid. Her fingers were shaking so much and he could see her shoulders shuddering.

“But… but from now on, I want to understand. Just like when you listen to me when I’m discouraged, from now on I want you to share with me when you are! I want you to tell me when you’re hurting, or scared, or feeling weak, and let me worry about you!

Because… because I want to keep living together. To eat, to chat, and worry… All those things. I want to continue--” She held back her cries and pulled him closer to her chest, scared he’ll vanish if she even let go of him the slightest.

The most important thing…

“—to continue to live life with you!”

Was that she stayed with me…

[Name]’s eyes glimmered in awe at him when she saw him cooking Almond Tofu inside her house. Amazed and surprised to see him creating that dish.

Finding joy in the smallest things…

She smiled at simple things such as collecting seashells together or the time there was a Qingxin flower stuck on his outfit, unintentionally discovering it was her favorite.

Being happy and smiling so cheerfully.

She continued to smile even if she was sick. The time he took care of her, she was living all alone and no one was there to tend her…

Why? She should think of herself more.

The female looked over her shoulder when she felt a familiar presence behind her. She stopped her task in drying the clothes and immediately strode to him and greeted Xiao with a welcome home.

Why? Doesn’t she think she’s getting the short end of the stick?

It hurt him to see her crying all alone inside her abode after he came back from his duties.

She thinks that she’s stupid, or there’s nothing good about her.

The time where [Name] bawled her eyes out in front of him.

She was so vulnerable.

So fragile that even the slightest touch might already shatter her to pieces.

‘It’s a waste of time to think about the loss of life or life getting harder.’ Xiao looked back at the time the little boy’s spirit shared a story with him.

‘The traveler never thought about that stuff. Even if other people think that makes her an idiot, I just don’t. That’s all. What about you, Mister Yaksha? What do you think when you close your eyes?’

He put away his gloved hands from his face and stared at them, lost in his thoughts.

“Xiao.”

The female called out and turned around, greeting him with another one of her bright smiles whenever he comes back to see her or just visit her after his travels.

“Xiao.”

Her voice was so sweet. He feels safe whenever he hears [Name]’s voice. So soft. So gentle. So sweet and so calming.

He didn’t know there were beads of liquid trickling down on the side of his face.

I love you.

He wanted to come back home and return to her welcoming arms. To come back and enjoy the sense of comfort.

I love you so much…

His chest hurt from this unknown feeling. He never felt this before in his entire life. It felt weird. What is this? It felt like he was yearning for something.

…Just as you are…

Tears continued to fall down his face and this amused the god to see him cry in front of him. Xiao’s hair covered his eyes but the deity can still see how the liquid trickled under the disappearing sun. Now, this was another wonderful sight to enjoy the vulnerable state the Yaksha had.

“Are you crying?”

Xiao remained quiet and the god asked him once more.

No response again.

The master snickered and lowered his head to take a good look at his weak state. “Are you mortified?”

His midnight orbs had a trace of intrigue and mirth.

“Don’t tell me that you’re in love with [First Name] [Last name].”

The god snickered and placed his hand on his mouth to stifle his laughter when Xiao still remained silent.

“Take a look at that. A monster falls in love with another monster.”

The Yaksha’s pupils dilated and looked up at him in anger.

“What? What’s that look on your face?” The divinity’s eyes flashed to him, dark and warning. It irked him to see this side of his puppet. Before Xiao could react, he felt another piercing sensation on his bruised cheek.

“I’m not the one at fault here! You’re the deluded one!” Another slap came to him again.

“And that woman. She acts so insolently even though she’s a mortal!”

Xiao caught his wrist before he made contact with his skin again.

“If— if you hate her that much, why did you allow this to happen?! You’re crazy. What are you thinking? What are you—“

His breath hitched when he saw the emotions behind the god’s eyes.

“What are you scheming…” His voice wavered when the thought of [Name] disappearing flashed before him.

“You used her…? Why? I don’t know, but…” He tightened his hold on the numen’s wrist and his glare was colder than ever.

“You dragged her into this mess.”

The god clicked his tongue and huffed at his words.

“You’re always quick to make me the villain, huh? So which is it? Do you love that woman?” He pushed him back but Xiao was quick to regain his balance.

“I—“

“Then you’re the real idiot!” He pointed at him in an accusing manner. As if he was the one who had done all these horrible crimes.

“Do you think you have the right to fall in love with someone?! Do you think that’s allowed!?” He shouted at him as his face darkened. The threatening aura was back again.

‘I won’t forgive you.’

“Hey, Xiao,” The deity called to him to get his attention. “Think about it. Who’s the real villain here? Who’s the one who involved her the most?”

The vision holder’s brows creased and looked down with a pained look plastered on his face.

“It was me.” He mumbled.

The god hummed and placed a hand on his chin to frame his face. “Though, that woman is also at fault—“

The Yaksha halted his statement. He’ll take the blame. All of it. He doesn’t want another word about [Name] to be spilled from his lips. He hated it. He just talks badly about her and he doesn’t like it.

“I’m… I’m the one who—“

Her eyes were so gentle…

Her touch was so warm and comforting…

Her smiles were so sweet…

“I don’t love her…” He bit down on his lip and clenched his fists. Xiao glared at the god menacingly as if to prove he doesn’t have feelings for the mortal.

“I definitely don’t love her. I’ll never… never fall in love with anyone. I’ll never fall in love.”

No. No more.

I won’t let anyone talk bad about her because of me anymore.

He wanted to protect that smile so much. He wanted to treasure it so badly. He wanted you to be safe in his arms. He won’t ever let anyone hurt you, he’ll take all the pain. He’ll shoulder it all for you.

He fell down onto his knees, shoulders slumped down. Xiao’s figure was weakening from all that was happening, from all the corrupted thoughts that swarmed his mind.

“Is that right?”

The god glanced at the other side, disappointed that his claims are wrong about his puppet’s feelings for the mortal.

“I see. I was jumping to conclusions. That’s right. There’s no way you’d love her. A sensible decision from you, for once.”

He faced the pitiful state of Xiao and closed his eyes. “You’ll never break the curse anyway, so your confinement is certain. Don’t you think that’s for the best?”

The deity neared him and knelt on one knee, continuing to whisper the words that will surely plague his mind.

“I’d feel bad to involve her, or others more than you have already.”

The Yaksha's eyes were dark and lifeless. The whisper of the winds was taunting him along with the god. He wanted to shun them away so badly. He wanted to get out of here now. But it’s no use. The strings are still attached to his master’s fingers and he can’t do anything about it but abide by his orders.

“It’s okay. I’m still here even if the curse still remains within you.” He pets his black and teal hair, but it didn’t give him the comfort unlike what [Name] has. It irked him off, it’s like the god was saying to give up and just live with it.

“I’ll be by your side, so you won’t be alone.”

“You’re just mocking me.”

The god ignored him and continued to brush his hair with his fingers. “I care for you. I actually care for you so much, Xiao.”

He leaned forward and whispered in his ears.

“Be good for me now and just follow my orders. You’ll be stuck with me forever after all.”

—

Splashes of water were gently flowing down the placid and shallow stream. The god feverishly washed his hands as if to remove the dirt that was too stubborn to get rid of.

“I touched him too much. I feel gross.” His dark orbs were so dull when he stared at his pale hands that touched the Demon Conqueror before he left.

“He hates [First Name] [Last Name], huh… Is that true?” He asked no one but himself but unbeknownst to him, there was another god sitting on the big rocks as he glanced down to see what the other was doing.

Morax watched his figure retreat in the vast land and gently dropped down to approach his previous location. He stared down at the stream as it mirrored his appearance, his narrow amber eyes and long brown hair that has been accompanied with a fade of gold on the tips.

His eyes softened and remembered the poor Yaksha.

“It can’t possibly be true.”

—

“Do you think you’re allowed to fall in love with someone?!”

“The one who involved her the most…”

I know.

“Surely, if you didn’t exist, everyone would’ve been happy.”

“I know!” Xiao screamed and covered his ears to get rid of the voice that’s been haunting him after the conversation. The voice of the god won’t stay away, it continues to linger inside his head.

“I know…”

I’m always hurting others.

[Name] held him tightly against her chest, it was so warm and soothing, reassuring him everything’s fine. It felt like a haven for him.

Why didn’t she run away?

She should’ve stayed away from me.

So why doesn’t she hate me for what I have done?

He finally arrived at [Name]’s home. It was quiet and peaceful, the birds were chirping and the sounds of cicadas ringing in the environment. It felt like a good time to enjoy some naps. Xiao opened the door and was expecting a greeting from the female, but he heard none. He waited for a moment but it was still silent.

“[Name]?” He called out. He glanced outside to see the white sheets hanging up to be dried. The winds softly fluttered the clothing making it dance along with the air.

Despite everything, why do I look for her?

“Xiao.” The said male looked at the archon with his cold eyes.

The Yaksha’s amber eyes widened and immediately sprinted outside to find [Name].

“Wait, Xiao.” The adeptus raised his hand to stop him from continuing walking. “Don’t step on the poor flower.”

The male glanced down at the Qingxin flower before his feet. Such a lone flower. Its white petals were so pure, quite amazing it was left untouched as there are no signs of dirt on it.

“Nothing’s going to change by protecting this one tiny flower.” He watched the flower swayed. What a lone and minimal flower, he wanted to crush it.

“What existence is worth a sacrifice, worth more than another’s life?” Xiao asked Morax as he raised his head and glowered at him.

“Taking everything from someone and trampling over them.” He continued.

The God of Contract fixed his gaze onto the poor immortal and said, “Even so, you’re still here because you still haven’t given up hope yet. It’s because you know that not every soul in this world has rejected you.”

Xiao gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. “What are you talking about? I killed them all, there’s no way someone out there wouldn’t reject me. It’s obvious I did this all!”

“As if there’s someone who would never reject me.”

“There is—“

“There’s no one!”

The Yaksha stepped on the Qingxin in pure spite. The flower being crushed by his foot trampled on the ground and now laying limply on the earth.

“No one…”

“Even so, even if you don’t have a glimmer of hope now, it will surely come again. However much you resist or trample it, however many times you’re thrown into despair, hope will come again just as many times. Repeatedly, again and again.

It will bloom.”

Xiao ran as he continued to search for [Name], figuring out where she would be at this kind of time. He hopes she’s safe and uninjured.

Forgive me. I understand now. I just pretend I didn’t, but I actually understood.

He looked all around the area and even climbed up to a tree to get a bigger view and search for the petite figure of the female.

I understand that as many in this world reject me, there are just as many people who reach out their hand to me.

“Why the long face?” A woman asked him.

Even though she’ll never come back…

“Here, take this.” Xiao glanced at the unknown woman who gave him some kind of offering.

I couldn’t keep it.

“She’s my treasure.” He observed the image the woman was holding. A young girl with [hair color] and [eye color] donned in a red and white Hanfu. He grabbed the portrait and took a closer look at the person.

But she bloomed before me.

The vision-holder reached the big tree in Dihua Marsh, the place where [Name] tends to take care of the flowers in her free time.

“I feel like I’ve only caused her sadness.” A broken smile was presented on her face. Xiao can see the obvious melancholia in her eyes.

She continued to bloom.

He was standing at the tree’s sturdy branch near the woman’s residence. The window was open and he caught sight of a young girl, her back facing him. She was all alone inside, silently nourishing the meal placed on the wooden table.

A small… small flower.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw the familiar [hair color] head, crouching next to the bushes of Silk Flowers near the bridge of the Guili Plains and Dihua Marsh. Her slender fingers fiddled with the crimson corolla.

A tiny…

She plucked the flower from the bush and brushed one of the petals with her index finger.

Flower.

[Name] held the flower close to her and took in the sweet scent. Her eyes softened as they eased her mind and body.

Precious…

My precious…

“[Name]!”

A small gasp flees from your lips and you whip around to see the male you’ve been waiting for standing before you.

“Huh? X-Xiao?” You stood up and faced him properly, still holding on to the Silk Flower in your hands.

“What happened? You’re back so soon.” Her focus went to his bruised cheek and quickly approached him to get a closer look.

You raised your hand but not touching it so as to not hurt him any further. “Xiao, your cheek…”

The male obscured the wounded skin with his gloved hand and looked anywhere but her. “Oh, I got into a fight.”

[Name] released a confused sound and her eyes widened, quickly asking if he got into a fight during the annex.

“No, it’s from Hilichurls.” He lied.

“Eh?!” Now that was not what she was expecting. Normally, whenever Hilichurls attack him, he’ll sweep them off in a second. She shook her head to erase the thought and deemed that Xiao can still get some injuries whoever fought him whether it be from Abyss mages or other monsters lurking around the world of Teyvat.

“It’s fine.” The Anemo user assured. “I know you were happy for me, but I’m fine if I’m not summoned.”

He closed his eyes and crossed his arms. “I don’t really care about it anymore.”

When [Name] gave him an unsure look, he raised a brow at her and bumped her head with his fist playfully. “What? You’re not happy I’m back?”

She flailed her arms around and stumbled on her words when he asked that. “Th-that’s not it! I mean, um… er—“

An amused smile was shown on his face as he breathed a sigh. “Don’t take it seriously.”

[Name] airily laughed, her cheeks were tinted with red as she beamed, smiling brightly at him.

“Welcome back.”

Her warm welcome greeted Xiao for the umpteenth time. She was smiling at him again, her eyes were so gentle and pure of [eye color]— the shine continued to linger in it whenever she saw him.

“Welcome back, Xiao.”

His mouth unconsciously curved upwards. “It’s good to be back.”

The Yaksha felt the unknown feeling come back again. He felt his heartstrings being pulled every time she gave that bright smile to him. It was odd, it felt fuzzy inside. His amber eyes stared with her own [eye color] ones, so kind and passionate.

I love you. I don’t want to take anything else from you.

I don’t want to trample you ever again.

The two walked off and journeyed their way back to their home. [Name] initiated the conversation and Xiao was there to listen to her and enjoy the sound of her pleasant voice entering his ears.

At some point, I hoped we could always be together somewhere far off…

‘I won’t forgive you.’

Xiao’s visage was downcasted when those words echoed inside him.

…but I won’t hope that anymore.

“I’d feel bad to involve her more than you have already.”

I won’t hope that I could make you my own anymore.

I won’t hope that.

[Name] continued to play with the Silk Flower as they walked side by side. Xiao took notice of this and gently held her hand with his gloved ones. The action made the female’s cheeks heat up, she didn’t notice he already took the flower from her hold.

So, please…

He tucked the plant on the side of her head, adoring how well it complemented her beautiful features.

At least be by my side for the time you have left.

The young woman’s cheeks were still warm, speechless of the Guardian Yaksha’s sudden and unexpected gesture. She noticed how he stared at her with fondness and adoration. Her heart was beating so fast and she looked on the demesne to hide her flushed face from him.

Xiao’s train of thoughts was stopped abruptly when he felt a pull on the clothing hanging on his left arm.

“W-what would you like to eat for dinner?” [Name] mumbled still not facing him.

He lifted one of his brows at her and said, “Did you forget again that eating is unnecessary for me?”

She flinched when he mentioned that and her blush darkened even more. [Name] fumbled on her words and apologized to him.

“Almond Tofu.”

She processed what he had said before her eyes sparkled and nodded at him with a grin. “You’ve got it! Time to roll up my sleeves—“

The mortal’s footing slipped and the gravity pushed her down, she closed her eyes waiting for the impact to come but instead, she felt an arm wrapped around her waist.

“Worry about your footing over your sleeves,” Xiao warned her with an exasperated sigh.

“R-right. Sorry.” She apologized to him with a meek smile. He heaved another sigh but nonetheless smiled at her clumsiness.

“What am I going to do with you?”

It caught the female off-guard to see the immortal smile but her attention was then focused when he grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him to march their way to her house.

I want to be with you.

He glanced at her when [Name]’s hold on him clutched back, reciprocating his hold and not going against it. She was smiling to herself, the blush still remained but was eased a while ago.

Until we’re separated far apart…

His gaze softened seeing this side of her. It gave him a warm and fuzzy feeling again.

…Until the last moment

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 3 years

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I'm bored and I have more Abyssal Y/N things.

So... since the mer!Childe au is so popular... what if mer!Y/N. Childe found out about your Abyss bits some time ago, so you two have gotten much closer because of that. But you always had this weird aversion to water of all things. You didn't like going near the wharf if you could avoid it, and recoiled severely when the waves would splash onto the dock. Of course, Childe got real concerned cuz it's just water, and he's a great swimmer, so you shouldn't have anything to fear.

One day you finally give in, and take Childe to Yaoguang Shoal to show him why you were so averse to the water. You stepped into the water and poof! You doubled, nearly tripled in size and you had a big ol' tail flopping behind you. Surprise! Your Abyss bits were heavily related to a deep-sea leviathan, and water triggers the transformation. And since the Harbor was used to you only being just a normal sized moth person, they'd probably have a panic attack over very large fishy you.

But Childe doesn't mind, he doesn't mind at all! In fact, he's ecstatic! Look at you! You're so big! And have pretty colors! And can swim super fast! This is like the best thing since sliced bread in his opinion.

So yeah, mer!Y/N. Neat, right?

extremely neat i like this very much!! i haven't thought about part Abyss you AU for quite a while so this is a welcomed reminder! Childe would LOVE swimming with you, in an odd way you remind him of the water narwhal he summons, shining and bright and colorful. he definitely agrees that you shouldn't transform in the Harbor- too many people around to freak out, but now he wants to go swimming with you somewhere quieter whenever he can!! he helps you stay away from water when you'd rather be in your more humanoid form too, making sure you had an umbrella and a coat and boots if you have to go out in the rain

on the topic of Abyss you AU, i'm thinking about the absolute relief Childe would feel when he finds out that there's another person affected by the Abyss in some way. you help him get accustomed to his Foul Legacy form and the lingering effects and he gets attached to you. but then again, it was almost inevitable because you're connected in this unique way

#genshin impact #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #foul legacy #foul legacy childe #chit chat #darling mutuals #OOOOO YES I REMEMBER THIS AU #when you have Abyssal traits and look a bit mothlike??? yes yesyesyessss #i wanna draw a sona for myself that's kind of like that #IF I COULD ACTUALLY DRAW #short scenario #other's stuff #sea monster au #in a way!!

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pollylynn · 3 years

Photo

Title: Immemorial WC: 900 Episode: Still (5 x 22)

It’s a pleasant, harmless piece of fiction, at first.

You’re powerless to resist me. You always have been.

It’s a tug of her pigtails, and it’s out in the open now that she is very much down for that. It’s a teensy little provocation, because provoking her is a one-size-fits-all solution with her, and it’s an out she might well be looking for. She got home so late that it was early, and it’s just possible that she might be looking for and excuse not to go rushing back to the precinct right this second. And he is happy to be the urgent issue that needs tending.

We’re together now. You can admit it. You fell for me the first moment you saw me.

It’s something vital, next. It’s survival. Because provocation is still a one-size-fits-all solution with her. He is going to be her bomb buddy and it’s ridiculous that anyone thinks otherwise. It’s ridiculous that she thinks otherwise, so he changes the subject using that most reliable of tactics, using what was a pleasant, harmless piece of fiction so recently.

According to you, you felt nothing for me when we first met.

It works. She is aghast. She is affronted. She sputters and draws herself up to her haughtiest height. With an extra poke her and pinch there, she forgets entirely that she’s supposed to be banishing him. Or at least it seems she’s forgotten. He thinks it’s safe and he can settle in at Archibald Fosse’s breakfast bar. But she turns the tables on him, and he wonders if she even means to.

Do you even remember what you were like in the beginning?

He almost literally does not. That’s the shield his mind throws up immediately. He almost literally does not remember what he was like in the beginning. But she does, of course. She has an encyclopedia of what he was like at the tip of her tongue, and he really ought to be able to run with that. He ought to be able to crow and strut and I-told-you-so her at length, because he clearly gets to her. He has clearly always gotten to her, and that really should be the next way that they survive this.

But he is flooded with memories that are much less flirty and backwardly flattering than the ones she has offered up. He is awash in vivid recollections of all the times his recklessness, his bored-little-boy antics have made her life more difficult, all the times they have put her in harm’s way, and this isn’t one of those times. Rationally, he knows there’s nothing he’s done this time around that has anything to do with why she is standing on a bomb, but maybe this is a make-up. Maybe it’s karma balancing the scales for all the times something he did shoaled have gotten them both killed, but didn’t.

And maybe he’s the same person he always was. Maybe he hasn’t changed a bit. He’s been playing the bored little boy here.

How much longer

You hungry?

He has freaked out on Mahoney, a man whose job should give him a free pass that’s proof against entitled jack holes like himself freaking out on him. He has I’d like to speak to your manager-ed the man hard for having the audacity to give them an assessment of their situation that he finds too frank, not coddling enough. He’s offered childishly simple cinematic solutions as though he isn’t surrounded by people with infinitely more knowledge and experience in these matters who really just need him to shut the hell up.

He has failed in the face of her vulnerability. He’s done little more than offer lame, knock-off inspirational poster wisdom when her voice goes small and asks if things are going to be okay. He has cracked jokes about hiding her porn stash when she quietly announces that she needs him to do something—she will need him to do something.

He feels like he doesn’t have to remember what he was like in the beginning, because that’s what he is like now. He is convinced of this. He is certain this is the case right up until the moment she says that she loves him. She says—out loud—that she loves him and who he is is not who he was. The truth of that roars into him like dry grass touched with the blue–green fire of unexpected lightning.

She needs him to leave. This is what she needed him to do for her. He will leave, because he is not the man he was in the beginning, and he made a promise. She wants him to come back. She is visibly, palpably grateful that he came back, even though she’s furious, too. She’s on the verge of cursing him, and she’s pulling out all the stops to get him to go—to remind him that he promised to go.

He did go, he informs her with studied nonchalance. And he never promised he wouldn’t come back. He is as he was in the beginning, and he is not at all that. He is both things. He is all things. He is here and not going anywhere, because she loves him, and the man she loves would stay.

He is staying.

A/N: Who Castle is is without morphousness. Forgot to note in my last Tell Me More Story, I always abide by the US air order, where Still and the Squab and the Totally Out of Character Quail are reversed. I can barely stomach these episodes. I cannot live in a world where the latter atrocity comes after Still.

images via kissthemgoodbye

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 5 #Castle: Still #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Fic #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Writing #Tell Me More

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nemycchi · 3 years

Text

Enter the Deep Golden Ocean

A Childe X Lumine Fanfiction

Secret Santa gift to Dandeleon from the Chilumi Nation Discord

Tags : Eye Communication, Maskless Delusion Childe

Childe’s eyes, at first glance, seems fittingly dead.

For someone of his profession, Lumine does not wonder why this is so. Perhaps, years of witnessing various immoral deeds have snuffed the life out of them. Really, she is not anymore surprised.

What she is very interested in though, is the fact that even without the sheen in them, his eyes seem to tell a story of a thousand words. If she would describe it in some way, Lumine thinks that the ocean is the best descriptive to use. Deep, dark and mysterious. Precisely—maybe a storm in the sea, with the swirl of his blue depths expressing what he truly feels.

Now, do not get her wrong. She does not make it a habit to go staring at people’s eyes for a long period of time, but for her, it was just too easy to use his as a predictor of his emotions.

“Ojou-chan!”

Ah, speak of the devil and he doth appear.

The outlander turns around and her gaze automatically locks on to his. The sea of turmoil seems absent today. He’s quite… happy.

“Childe, what are you doing here?”

They are currently in Cuijue Slope and it is not common to come across this man in this place—away from his station at Northland Bank.

Lumine takes note of the way the dark blues of his eyes swirl in mirth before it closed and crinkled on the sides.

“No reason in particular, I just want to tag along!” he says in a sing-song voice.

She sighs. There is no purpose to shoo him away— after all, traveling alone can be quite lonely and she must admit that right now, without Paimon—for the little pixie decided to ditch her in favor of Xiangling’s food-filled adventures, she can feel the dredges of melancholy swimming quietly in her body already. Perhaps, things might get a little interesting with Childe around—what with the man’s penchant of bringing some kind of trouble wherever he goes.

“What are you up to anyway?” he snaps her back to reality.

“Oh, I was just about to go fight the Pyro Regisvine. I need some Agnidus Agates.”

She watches as the colors shift again at the mention of fight and she sighs once more. This fightsexual man.

“Well, what are we waiting for then? Let’s go kick that plant, ojou-chan!”

--**--

“Say, do you like staring at people this much or am I just a special case?”

Lumine chokes on the half-eaten Jade Parcel in her mouth at his sudden remark.

Picking up her tea, she sips slowly first, patting her chest lightly to soothe the pain from earlier. Upon setting the cup down, her gaze moves up to stare back at his.

There is definitely mischief swimming in those depths, but there’s also a challenge there as he tilts his head to the side as if testing to see if she will lie about her ‘habit’.

Two can play at this game.

The traveler spies the myriad of blue shades pass in a split-second when she returns the look in his eyes with her golden ones as she rests her chin on her palm propped on the table.

“What do you think?”

He obviously tries to fight the smile from appearing on his face but his eyes are a dead giveaway of what he feels right then. Lumine cannot be more thankful that she has learned to read his mood in another way than just his general demeanor for it makes challenges, such as this, way easier to pick up on her end.

“Come on, ojou-chan. How about you just tell me in return since I’m paying for this dinner anyway.” he playfully replies.

You already know, don’t you? What’s the use?

She knows that he knows that it is exclusively a thing she does reserved for him and him alone. The way his eyes regard her in that moment tells her that much.

Again, she is not one to go look directly into other people’s eyes but somehow, in some way, the deep blue ocean of his seems to pull her right in—asking hers to read, to understand that which lies beyond the azure abyss.

And so that is what she does most of the times. Does she like him enough to extend this much effort into knowing him? It is quite hard to tell. Maybe, maybe not. She does not want to put a name to the feeling but watching the way various shades of blue shift in his blank-looking gaze fills her with warmth.

“How about you try to pick up food successfully with your chopsticks first?”

“Ojou-chan!”

--**--

Yaoguang Shoal has been known to be quite a refreshing place to be in for peace and quiet and so, it is quite a surprise to Lumine when she finds Childe there, lying on one of the jutting rocks on the beach, holding a starconch to the sky in his hand.

Noticing her arrival, he sits up and acknowledges her presence with glee.

But his eyes tell a different story. He’s… conflicted.

“Hey there, ojou-chan! What brings you here?” the turmoil in the blue depths betray the smile on his lips.

Seeing that he isn’t about to share whatever the cause of his distress is with the way he greets her, she decides to drop it and not pursue it at all. The shadow of gratefulness for her avoidance flickered in his gaze for a second.

“Just collecting some starconches.” she mumbles, walking towards the closest one to her.

“Oh? What for?” he stands up and walks to her direction.

“No reason. It’s a habit.”

She notes how he slowed to a stop a few feet away from her. Lumine turns around and frowns when he avoids her stare and he instead looks out into the ocean, the pretense of being happy a ghost on his lips.

“Mhm. That reminds me. Aren’t you supposed to be with Zhongli-sensei for the finishing touches to the rite of parting?”

A cold breeze washes across the shore and she closes her eyes, feeling the moment.

“He’s away for some business right now.”

“I see.” his voice sounded a lot closer.

The outlander opens her eyes and was almost taken aback, not by the considerably shorter distance between them, but by the intensity with which his blue gaze regards hers.

There lies a question left unsaid.

“I see, then.” he uncharacteristically reiterates in a quiet manner.

Her eyes of gold unabashedly search his for some kind of understanding and for a reason she cannot quite explain, she feels as if she heard his voice through their connection.

‘When the time comes, will you be able to stop me?’

Lumine does not know what to think of that. Perhaps, she is just trying so hard that her mind came up with the most random explanation for the look in his eyes.

Instead of dwelling on it, she just hums and picks up the almost forgotten shell in the sand.

--**--

The ground cracks beneath her and she falls down, down, down below.

There she is, in Golden House, facing Childe—no, facing Tartaglia, the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger, in a battle set to decide the fate of Liyue. She vaguely remembers seeing a flash of purple before the floor collapsed and as she falls, Lumine is oddly reminded of that day in Yaoguang Shoal.

Perhaps, that really was the question hidden beneath his ocean eyes. Will you be able to stop me?

Can she?

She grunts as she slams against the cold, hard ground of the mint.

“Lumine!!!” she hears her fairy companion shout from somewhere behind her as a looming figure clad in an armor of grays and violets lands in front of her.

She abruptly stands back on her feet, sword in hand, as she raises her gaze to meet her enemy. Right there and then, she realizes how much she hates this situation she found herself in—not because of the blood slowly trickling down her arm. Not because of the fatigue thrumming in her veins. Not because of the sorry state of the Golden House.

But because of the unfocused and unreadable look in his stormy ocean depths.

She grips the hilt of her sword tighter, anemo and geo energy bubbling back up in her system. She hates this. She hates this.

With resolve, she charges ahead—a sole answer to a perhaps forgotten question burning across her golden eyes.

‘Childe… I will stop you.’

#genshin impact #childe x lumine #chilumi #genshin impact fanfiction

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demonprincezeldris · 3 years

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I’m just imagine Ban petting poor Meliodas as he’s shaking now, soothing him and trying to comfort him because it’s clear this little mer doesn’t trust him and is even scared of him. Seeing his brother in the tank next to him actually brought the other siren into a panic attack at first. Eventually they both calmed. Especially when he sees how gentle Arthur is with Zeldris and ho happy Zel is. But the human who’s taking care of him is the same one who threw the rock at his brother! How can he trust this… Ban… doesn’t have some ulterior motive!? How can he trust any of them aren’t planning something for him and Zeldris!? He’s the oldest his job is the protect the pod! And then Ban must have a light bulb flash in his head and realizes why it is that Meliodas keep lashing out at him when he hasn’t done anything wrong. Human have been known to send hunters out to poach and sell siren parts or even siren slaves who’ve had their tongues cut out in the black market! It’s a known fact that sirens usually roam in large family pods yet they’re only ever seen these two… clearly something must’ve happened to their shoal. Form there he feels a immense sympathy for the little siren and renews his wooing, desperate to prove that he isn’t like those poachers who most likely made him an orphan… based in his age and distrust he must’ve been very young when it happened, still too young OT be along yet old enough to remember the trauma.

Aw! Finally he's realized why the poor thing's so scared of him. For one, he hurt his brother, the only siren left in his pod, and two, he's a HUMAN, a stark reminder of the controversy surrounding humans and their desire for sirens, whether dead or alive.

Eventually, with enough time and reassurance, Meliodas will learn to trust Ban.

#Zelthur #Melban #Siren AU #nnt #Anon response

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sun-stormz · 3 years

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Genshin Impact Visions & Gods

This has been bugging me since i started playing in mid november, but what makes a certain Archon give a Character their Vision. Considering i couldnt find any official info, I decided to do some research on each Archon and then on the player Characters we have of each element as of beginning of December 2020.

This will contain spoilers on characters & story!

Note: The travelers will not be included due to them not having Visions and having more then one Element.

I am basing this on overlaping themes and not on anything related to the actual Archon. I did add some info on the archons tho, due to this being about Visions and archons

“It is unclear whether Visions are directly granted by its element's corresponding Archon or by the nation's Archon. There is also the possibility that granting a Vision requires approval from both Archons. Yet another possibility is that they are granted by neither, and are instead given by the gods on Celestia.”

-Genshin Wiki on reciving Visions

Starting with my Favourite Element, Electro.

Electro wise, We have five Characters as of right now: Kequin, Razor, Beidou, Fishl and Lisa. The Electro Archon, God of Eternity, Baal, is the ruling Archon of the Area, Inazuma, whitch is the area we are getting in the 1.4 update in 2021.

To start off i read into any info i could find on Baal and i gotta say, she is a interesting Fellow. As of right now we know that Baal has locked Inazuma down and has initiated a Vision Hunt Decree, due to her thinking Visions should be under the sole domain of divinity. She also hasnt handed out any Visions since this decree which means all Electro characters we know have gotten theirs before this drastic change.

Now, why did these 5 characters get their Visions? Well each character has a different reason, from Razor wanting to protect those he calls friends to Lisa simpley saying it would be of use to her and just getting it. From what I've found there isnt really a big overlap in the reciving of the characters, but what is overlaping is their fixation on something.

Razor recived his vision due to him being fixated on getting stronger to protect his friends after he failed to while being dragged away by an abyss mage

Kequin was fixated on sharing her beliefs, that the people of Lyiue shouldnt rely on Rex Lapis and have their Pride and that their views are of Equal importance

Fishl was so fixated on a book series she changed herself to be like the main character, fishl and her Vision manifested in the form of Oz, one of the characters from said book

Beidou was fixated on killing Haishan, a sea monster, from a young age and recived her vision when she did so

Lisa is pretty much fixated on understanding magecraft and the cost of reciveing a Vision.

Now onto a easier Element, Geo

The Archon of Geo and Contracts, Morax, Archon of Lyiue.

Morax or Rex Lapis, was one of the oldest gods, defended Lyiue in the Archon war, the Currency in Teyvat, Mora, is named after him and as of Chp.1 Act 3 we know that he has taken the form of Zhongli and has retired as the Geo Archon.

Morax, Along with Barbatos, are the only two Archons of the Original Seven that havent been replaced.

Now, who are our Geo Characters? Noelle and Ningguang, two dedicated powerhouses! This one is fairly simple, thanks to voicelines we have of Zhongli since he came out as a player character (Bless the pity pull for giving me this man)

In his “About Ningguang” Voiceline he says: ”Despite the multitude of affairs she deals with in a day, Ningguang always continues to press on. A rare gem indeed. I'm reminded of the time that she used to walk barefoot from Yaoguang Shoal to the south wharf, trying to sell her wares as she went. Time is cruel to humans.”

Noelle recived her vision when Jean Acknowledged her hard work when she tried to get into the knights of favonius. in her “Vision” story it states: This was a lucky day that she would always remember, for she would receive recognition from two all-important sources this day: once from Jean, and the other from the gods. Her hard work has been remembered after all.

So for short: Hard working and dedicated = Geo Vision

Next up we have Anemo

Our wonderful Tone deaf bard, Venti or otherwise known as the Archon of Anemo and freedom, Barbatos, the not really ruling Archon of Mondstadt.

Barbatos is a freedom loving guy and refuses to rule over Mondstadt, the city of freedom and is by far the weakest of the Archons, despite this the people of Modstadt still love and adore their windy God.

I went into this one thinking “Oh this is easy, itll be love for freedom or something!” Nope, it surprisingly wasnt. Jean and sucerose recived their visions through their Determination it seems. Sucerose from doing her 159th Dandilion seed Simmering experiment and Jean seemed to be determened to be a good grandmaster and to protect Mondstadt.

That aside, i couldnt find many overlaps with the two, they are both free spirited and love what they do.

Now on to Pyro

Pyro, the Element of the Archon Murata who is also the god of War, is wielded by the fan fav Diluc, as well as Klee, Xiangling, Amber, Bennett and Xinyan.

Not much is known about Murata, Venti describes her as a “ wayward, warmongering wretch” and thats about all we know. She presides over Natlan.

Now to the characters, this was acually the easiest of them all: Passion.

Every Pyro user has a huge amount of passion that a rolemodel or Loved one ignited within them.

This one definitly surprised me the least and i am really excited for when we meet Murata and Natlan.

Diluc has the same passion his father had

Klee has a passion for Explosives that her mother ignited

Xiangling has a passion for food and cooking she got from her father

Amber got her Passion for Mondstadt and the outriders from her grandfather

Bennett got the Passion for adventure from all the old adventurers he calls dads, yes Dads as in plural, that raised him

Xinyan has a passion for Rock, tho i havent found out more of her story due to her being so new.

Now heading onto Hydro

Hydro, along with Dendro, is the only element where we do not know the name of the Archon. All we do know is that they are the Archon of Hydro and Justice and rule over Fontaine.

So straight to the Hydro characters: Barbara, Mona and Xingqiu.

I dont really count Childe due to the only thing talked about is his dilusion and i am rather confused on if he even has a real vision but i still love him lots

Im going to be honest this one really had me running the brain gears for a while.

All three recived their Vision as an extension of the self.

Barbara got hers after helping a sick boy by singing to him to help him sleep through a fever, Mona rekindeled a learning aid to her vision, to aid her with her search for the truth of the rules of the world and Xingqiu got his after he explained the principles of his clans martial arts anew, litterally saying that martial artists should see Visions as a extension of the self.

Last but definitly not least, Cryo

Cryo, the Element of the Archon know as the Tsaritsa. We acually dont know her corrisponding ideal nor her acual name and this one was just as geargrinding as Hydro.

The Tsaritsa, Ruler of the fatui and the one that gives them their Dilusions, is one interresting lady. We get a description of her from Childe: “Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa is actually a gentle soul. Too gentle, in fact, and that's why she had to harden herself. Likewise, she declared war against the whole world only because she dreams of peace. Her gaze was cold but pure, arrogant yet sharp. She was not only the sacrosanct Cryo Archon but a true warrior also.”

Kaeya, Chongyun, Diona and Qiqi, our current four Cyro userer, all have rather interesting storys when it comes to how they got their Vision.

All dont accept something

Kaeya felt guilty about hiding who he was from the family that adopted him after his father abandoned him to be a spy in Mondstadt, and told Diluc, someone he used to be very close with, the truth, since then he sees his vision as a stern reminder that he must live his life under a heavy burden of Lies. He pretty much doesnt accept the truth of his situatin and would rather live with that heavy burden

Chonyun is surpressing a part of himself, the condition he has, and as Xiangling says in Chongyuns stories, is denying a part of him. He trys to work around his condition and wont accept it as the way to go about how he practices exocrism.

Diona wont accept the truth about her father being a Alcoholic, and places the blame on the Alcohol industy instead of accepting that he isnt as high and mighty as she thought. She wont accept that her fathers bad control over his drinking habits is the reason he acts as he does and instead blames the alcohol industry.

Qiqi didnt want to accept her death nor does she really accept her Zombie like traits and only uses them when she needs to defend herself.

My theory is the Cyro Visions are recevied when you wont accept the grim reality as it is, if this is positive or negative variates

When it comes to the last element, Dendro, we sadly know nothing nor have we seen any dendro character in action. So that might be a addition later on.

I’m really interrested if we find out the actual criteria for reciving each Vision one day

#genshin impact #genshin diluc #genshin theory #kaeya #diluc ragnvindr #zhongli #childe #genshin venti #genshin chongyun #this game is taking over my life

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kookie-doughs · 3 years

Text

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 17: I Swim For The First Time...?

It was Annabeth's idea. She loaded us into the back of a Vegas taxi as if we actually had money, and told the driver, "Los Angeles, please."

The cabbie chewed his cigar and sized us up. "That's three hundred miles. For that, you gotta pay up front." "You accept casino debit cards?" Annabeth asked. He shrugged. "Some of 'em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em through first." Annabeth handed him her green Lotus Cash card. He looked at it skeptically. "Swipe it," Annabeth invited. He did.

His meter machine started rattling. The lights flashed. Finally an infinity symbol came up next to the dollar sign. The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth. He looked back at us, his eyes wide. "Where to in Los Angeles... uh, Your Highness?" "The Santa Monica Pier." Annabeth sat up a little straighter. I could tell she liked the "Your Highness" thing. "Get us there fast, and you can keep the change." Maybe she shouldn't have told him that. The cab's speedometer never dipped below ninety-five the whole way through the Mojave Desert. On the road, we had plenty of time to talk. Percy told us about his latest dream. The Lotus Casino seemed to have short-circuited my memory. I couldn't recall what the invisible servant's voice had sounded like, though I was sure it was somebody I knew. The servant had called the monster in the pit something other than "my lord" ... some special name or title.... "The Silent One?" Annabeth suggested. "The Rich One? Both of those are nicknames for Hades." "Maybe..." he said.

"That throne room sounds like Hades's," Grover said. "That's the way it's usually described." He shook my head. "Something's wrong. The throne room wasn't the main part of the dream. And that voice from the pit... I don't know. It just didn't feel like a god's voice."

The crooked one... Annabeth's eyes widened. And looked at Percy. Who had a look of realization. "What?" I asked. "Oh... nothing. I was just—No, it has to be Hades. Maybe he sent this thief, this invisible person, to get the master bolt, and something went wrong—" "Like what?" "I—I don't know," she said. "But if he stole Zeus's symbol of power from Olympus, and the gods were hunting him, I mean, a lot of things could go wrong. So this thief had to hide the bolt, or he lost it somehow. Anyway, he failed to bring it to Hades. That's what the voice said in your dream, right? The guy failed. That would explain what the Furies were searching for when they came after us on the bus. Maybe they thought we had retrieved the bolt." I wasn't sure what was wrong with her. She looked pale. "But if Percy already retrieved the bolt," I said, "why would we be traveling to the Underworld?" "To threaten Hades," Grover suggested. "To bribe or blackmail him into getting your parents back." I whistled. "You have evil thoughts for a goat." "Why, thank you."

"Only mine is there. I'd rather get Y/N's than mine." Percy said gripping my hand.

"Huh?"

"You lost them thanks to me." He smiled weakly. "A-Anyways, the thing in the pit said it was waiting for two items," I reminded. "If the master bolt is one, what's the other?" Grover shook his head, clearly mystified. Annabeth was looking at me as if she knew my next question, and was silently willing me not to ask it.

I have every answers. I could tell you. What do you wish to know? We are to help one another after all...

Could you tell me how I could save my parents?

Save them? As I told you only we could save them. Being there, you'd know your only option. Only you could do it. Do you wish to know more?

What's this quest?

A trap. Next one?

Who is my parent?

Hahaha, that is a question I shan't answer. Just believe in all gods. Befriend them and you'll know. You could trust them all.

Even Zeus, Hades and Poseidon? They kinda suck...

Unless you're positive they aren't your parent, you don’t have to.

Yeah, can I have like... I don't know... I kinda want Hephaestus. He seems coolest. I an NOT blessed in like singing and all that so I can’t be Apollo's.

I've already given you a parent. My apologies. The one I chose would be... quite a friend. Would you want to know more?

Well not re---

"Y/NN!! Ask more about the quest and Percy's dream!!!" I hear Annabeth scream at my ear.

"Oh my gods! Don't scream at my ear!" I yelled pushing her away. "What do you mean ask about Percy's dream? Who will I ask? The driver?"

"You----"

"She can't remember whenever that happens." Percy explained. "They already told us."

"What are you guys talking about??"

"Nothing. We were thinking about the pit..." Annabeth sighed.

"You have an idea what might be in that pit, don't you?" I asked her. "I mean, if it isn't Hades?" "Y/N... let's not talk about it. Because if it isn't Hades... No. It has to be Hades." Wasteland rolled by. We passed a sign that said CALIFORNIA STATE LINE, 12 MILES. The problem was: we were hurtling toward the Underworld at ninety-five miles an hour, betting that Hades had the master bolt. If we got there and found out we were wrong, we wouldn't have time to correct ourselves. The solstice deadline would pass and war would begin. "The answer is in the Underworld," Annabeth assured us. "You saw spirits of the dead, Percy. There's only one place that could be. We're doing the right thing." She tried to boost our morale by suggesting clever strategies for getting into the Land of the Dead, but my heart wasn't in it. There were just too many unknown factors. It was like cramming for a test without knowing the subject. And believe me, I'd done that enough times. The cab sped west. Every gust of wind through Death Valley sounded like a spirit of the dead. Every time the brakes hissed on an eighteen-wheeler, it reminded me of Echidna's reptilian voice. At sunset, the taxi dropped us at the beach in Santa Monica. It looked exactly the way L.A. beaches do in the movies, only it smelled worse. There were carnival rides lining the Pier, palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes, and surfer dudes waiting for the perfect wave. Grover, Annabeth, Percy, and I walked down to the edge of the surf. "What now?" Annabeth asked. The Pacific was turning gold in the setting sun. I thought about how long it had been since I'd stood on the beach at Montauk, on the opposite side of the country, looking out at a different sea. I felt anxious being near the water. Percy took my hand.

"What?" I said slowly pulling away from him.

"Trust me and come with me." He said looking at me in the eye. "Percy," Annabeth said. "That's stupid! She can barely stay alive up here!"

"If the water pulls her could you save her?" He glared at the two. "As long as she holds me she'll be safe." He gripped my hand.

"I-I'll trust you... But I have to make sure you won't let me drown... I-I need---" Annabeth then sighed and walked over to us taking our wrist.

"If she drowns I am totally not siding on you during the war." She hissed at Percy while tying Aphrodite's scarf on our wrist.

"how do you have that?" Percy asked.

"I forgot I gave it to her." With our wrist attached by a cloth, he held my hand tight then we kept walking, up to my waist, then my chest.

"I'm scared..." I gulped. Percy pulled me closer. That's when my head went under. I held my breath at first. It's difficult to intentionally inhale water. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore. I gasped. Sure enough, I could breathe normally. Percy was smiling at me, with his arms still around me. We walked down into the shoals. I shouldn't have been able to see through the murk, but somehow I could tell where everything was. I could sense the rolling texture of the bottom. I could make out sand-dollar colonies dotting the sandbars. I could even see the currents, warm and cold streams swirling together. I felt something rub against my leg. I looked down and almost shot out of the water like a ballistic missile. Sliding along beside me was a five-foot-long mako shark. I almost screamed until I saw how cute it was. The thing wasn't attacking. It was nuzzling me. Heeling like a dog. Tentatively, I touched its dorsal fin. It bucked a little, as if inviting me to hold tighter. Percy took my hand and wrapped it on the fin, he grabbed the fin with both hands, so I followed his actions. It took off, pulling us along. The shark carried us down into the darkness. It deposited us at the edge of the ocean proper, where the sand bank dropped off into a huge chasm. It was like standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon at midnight, not being able to see much, but knowing the void was right there. The surface shimmered maybe a hundred and fifty feet above. I knew I should've been crushed by the pressure. Then again, I shouldn't have been able to breathe. I wondered if there was a limit to how deep I could go, if I could sink straight to the bottom of the Pacific. Then I saw something glimmering in the darkness below, growing bigger and brighter as it rose toward me. A woman's voice, "Percy Jackson." As she got closer, her shape became clearer. She had flowing black hair, a dress made of green silk. Light flickered around her, and her eyes were so distractingly beautiful I hardly noticed the stallion-sized sea horse she was riding. She dismounted. The sea horse and the mako shark whisked off and started playing something that looked like tag. The underwater lady smiled at me. "You've come far, Percy Jackson. Well done. And you brought... a friend." I wasn't quite sure what to do, so I bowed. "H-Hello..."

"You're the woman who spoke to me in the Mississippi River." Percy said. "Yes, child. I am a Nereid, a spirit of the sea. It was not easy to appear so far upriver, but the naiads, my freshwater cousins, helped sustain my life force. They honor Lord Poseidon, though they do not serve in his court." "An... you serve in Poseidon's court?" She nodded. "It has been many years since a child of the Sea God has been born. We have watched you with great interest." I felt so out of placed being here so I wrapped my arms around Percy tighter. "If my father is so interested in me," Percy said, "why isn't he here? Why doesn't he speak to me?" A cold current rose out of the depths. "Do not judge the Lord of the Sea too harshly," the Nereid told him. "He stands at the brink of an unwanted war. He has much to occupy his time. Besides, he is forbidden to help you directly. The gods may not show such favoritism." "Even to their own children?" "Especially to them. The gods can work by indirect influence only. Why do you think they're trying to find who Y/N's parent is? They helped raising her, that's why her scent is gone."

"M-My Olympian parent raised me? I don't remember anyone... I'm pretty sure neither my mom or dad are Olympians... or Greek."

"Well that is what they're trying to figure out."

"Well, what's my father doing then?"

"That is why I give you a warning, and a gift."

She held out her hand. Three white pearls flashed in her palm. "I know you journey to Hades's realm," she said. "Few mortals have ever done this and survived: Orpheus, who had great music skill; Hercules, who had great strength; Houdini, who could escape even the depths of Tartarus. Do you have these talents?" "Urn... no, ma'am." "Ah, but you have something else, Percy. You have gifts you have only begun to know. The oracles have foretold a great and terrible future for you, should you survive to manhood. Poseidon would not have you die before your time. Therefore take these, and when you are in need, smash a pearl at your feet." "What will happen?" "That," she said, "depends on the need. But remember: what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea."

Percy took the three pearls and pocketed it. "Oh... but there are four of us. We'll need one more."

She looked at me and Percy. Then looked at her empty palm. "Your father..."

"I'm not leaving any of them if I need to use this." Percy said firmly.

She sighed and out came another pearl. Instead of handing it to Percy she handed it to me. "The lord does not like you. He's been firm and obvious of that fact. But... as his son refuse to leave you..."

I took the pearl reluctantly and thanked her. "What about the warning?" Her eyes flickered with green light. "Go with what your heart tells you, or you will lose all. Hades feeds on doubt and hopelessness. He will trick you if he can, make you mistrust your own judgment. Once you are in his realm, he will never willingly let you leave. Keep faith. Good luck, Percy Jackson." She summoned her sea horse and rode toward the void. "Wait!" Percy called. "At the river, you said not to trust the gifts. What gifts?" "Good-bye, young hero," she called back, her voice fading into the depths. "You must listen to your heart." She became a speck of glowing green, and then she was gone. "Your dad... must really hate me to leave me in Underworld when worse comes to worse..." I muttered burying my face on his neck.

"Don't worry... I won't let him hurt you, just because whoever your parent is raised you." He kicked upward toward the shore. When we reached the beach, our clothes dried instantly. Percy told Grover and Annabeth what had happened, and showed them the pearls. Annabeth grimaced. "No gift comes without a price. Not to mention Y/N is hated." "They were free." "No." She shook her head. "'There is no such thing as a free lunch.' That's an ancient Greek saying that translated pretty well into American. There will be a price. You wait." On that happy thought, we turned our backs on the sea. With some spare change from Ares's backpack, we took the bus into West Hollywood. We showed the driver the Underworld address slip we'd taken from Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium, but he'd never heard of DOA Recording Studios.

"You remind me of somebody I saw on TV," he told Percy. "You a child actor or something?" "Uh ... I'm a stunt double ... for a lot of child actors." "Oh! That explains it." We thanked him and got off quickly at the next stop. We wandered for miles on foot, looking for DOA. Nobody seemed to know where it was. It didn't appear in the phone book. Twice, we ducked into alleys to avoid cop cars. Percy froze in front of an appliance-store window because a television was playing an interview with somebody

"—my stepdad, Smelly Gabe." He explained.

He was talking to Barbara Walters—I mean, as if he were some kind of huge celebrity. She was interviewing him in our apartment, in the middle of a poker game, and there was a young blond lady sitting next to him, patting his hand. A fake tear glistened on his cheek. He was saying, "Honest, Ms. Walters, if it wasn't for Sugar here, my grief counselor, I'd be a wreck. My stepson took everything I cared about. My wife... my Camaro... I—I'm sorry. I have trouble talking about it." "There you have it, America." Barbara Walters turned to the camera. "A man torn apart. An adolescent boy with serious issues. Let me show you, again, the last known photo of this troubled young fugitive, taken a week ago in Denver. He has taken a young girl that goes by Y/N L/N with her." The screen cut to a grainy shot of me, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover standing outside the Colorado diner, talking to Ares. "Who are the two other children in this photo?" Barbara Walters asked dramatically. "Who is the man with them? Is Percy Jackson a delinquent, a terrorist, or perhaps the brainwashed victim of a frightening new cult? When we come back, we chat with a leading child psychologist. Stay tuned, America." "C'mon," Grover told me. He hauled us away.

It got dark, and hungry-looking characters started coming out on the streets to play. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm a New Yorker. I don't scare easy. But L.A. had a totally different feel from New York. Back home, everything seemed close. It didn't matter how big the city was, you could get anywhere without getting lost. The street pattern and the subway made sense. There was a system to how things worked. A kid could be safe as long as he wasn't stupid. L.A. wasn't like that. It was spread out, chaotic, hard to move around. It reminded me of Ares. It wasn't enough for L.A. to be big; it had to prove it was big by being loud and strange and difficult to navigate, too. I didn't know how we were ever going to find the entrance to the Underworld by tomorrow, the summer solstice. We walked past gangbangers, bums, and street hawkers, who looked at us like they were trying to figure if we were worth the trouble of mugging. As we hurried passed the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness said, "Hey, you." Like an idiot, I stopped. Before I knew it, we were surrounded. A gang of kids had circled us. Six of them in all—white kids with expensive clothes and mean faces. Like the kids at Yancy Academy: rich brats playing at being bad boys. Instinctively, I drew my knife. When the knife appeared out of nowhere, the kids backed off, but their leader was either really stupid or really brave, because he kept coming at me with a switchblade.

Percy then pulled me behind him and swung Riptide. The kid yelped. But he must've been one hundred percent mortal, because the blade passed harmlessly right through his chest. He looked down. "What the..." I figured I had about three seconds before his shock turned to anger. "Run!" I screamed taking Percy's hand. We pushed two kids out of the way and raced down the street, not knowing where we were going. We turned a sharp corner. "There!" Annabeth shouted. Only one store on the block looked open, its windows glaring with neon. The sign above the door said something like CRSTUY'S WATRE BDE ALPACE. "Crusty's Water Bed Palace?" Grover translated. It didn't sound like a place I'd ever go except in an emergency, but this definitely qualified. We burst through the doors, ran behind a water bed, and ducked. A split second later, the gang kids ran past outside. "I think we lost them," Grover panted. A voice behind us boomed, "Lost who?" We all jumped. Standing behind us was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit. He was at least seven feet tall, with absolutely no hair. He had gray, leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a cold, reptilian smile. He moved toward us slowly, but I got the feeling he could move fast if he needed to. His suit might've come from the Lotus Casino. It belonged back in the seventies, big-time. The shirt was silk paisley, unbuttoned halfway down his hairless chest. The lapels on his velvet jacket were as wide as landing strips. The silver chains around his neck—I couldn't even count them. "I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile. I resisted the urge to say, Yes, you are. "Sorry to barge in," Percy told him. "We were just, um, browsing." "You mean hiding from those no-good kids," he grumbled. "They hang around every night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look at a water bed?" I was about to say No, thanks, when he put a huge paw on my shoulder and steered me deeper into the showroom. There was every kind of water bed you could imagine: different kinds of wood, different patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size. "This is my most popular model." Crusty spread his hands proudly over a bed covered with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrated, so it looked like oil-flavored Jell-O. "Million-hand massage," Crusty told us. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, any-way. "Um," Percy said, "I don't think..." "Million-hand massage!" Grover cried, and dove in. "Oh, you guys! This is cool." "Hmm," Crusty said, stroking his leathery chin. "Almost, almost." "Almost what?" I asked. He looked at Annabeth. "Do me a favor and try this one over here, honey. Might fit." Annabeth said, "But what—" He patted her reassuringly on the shoulder and led her over to the Safari Deluxe model with teakwood lions carved into the frame and a leopard-patterned comforter. When Annabeth didn't want to lie down, Crusty pushed her. "Hey!" she protested. Crusty snapped his fingers. "Ergo!" Ropes sprang from the sides of the bed, lashing around Annabeth, holding her to the mattress. Grover tried to get up, but ropes sprang from his black-satin bed, too, and lashed him down. "N-not c-c-cool!" he yelled, his voice vibrating from the million-hand massage. "N-not c-cool a-at all!" The giant looked at Annabeth, then turned toward me and Percy to grin. "Almost, darn it." I tried to step away, but his hand shot out and clamped around the back of my neck. "Whoa, kid. Don't worry. We'll find you one in a sec." "Let my friends go." "Oh, sure I will. But I got to make them fit, first." "What do you mean?" "All the beds are exactly six feet, see? Your friends are too short. Got to make them fit." Annabeth and Grover kept struggling. "Can't stand imperfect measurements," Crusty muttered. "Ergo!" A new set of ropes leaped out from the top and bottom of the beds, wrapping around Grover and Annabeth's ankles, then around their armpits. The ropes started tightening, pulling my friends from both ends. "Don't worry," Crusty told us, "These are stretching jobs. Maybe three extra inches on their spines. They might even live. Now why don't we find a bed you like, huh?" "Percy! Y/N!" Grover yelled. My mind was racing. I knew I couldn't take on this giant water-bed salesman alone. He would snap my neck before I ever got my sword out. "Your real name's not Crusty, is it?" Percy asked. "Legally, it's Procrustes," he admitted. "The Stretcher," I said. I remembered the story: the giant who'd tried to kill Theseus with excess hospitality on his way to Athens. "Yeah," the salesman said. "But who can pronounce Procrustes? Bad for business. Now 'Crusty,' anybody can say that." "You're right. It's got a good ring to it." His eyes lit up. "You think so?" "Oh, absolutely," I said. "And the workmanship on these beds? Fabulous!"

Percy looked at me weirdly. When I gave him a nod he must've understood. He got closer to hold my arm. Crusty grinned hugely, his fingers still didn't loosen on my neck. "I tell my customers that. Every time. Nobody bothers to look at the workmanship. How many built-in Lava Lamp headboards have you seen?" "Not too many." "That's right!" "Y/N!" Annabeth yelled. "What are you doing?" "Don't mind her," Percy told Procrustes. "She's impossible." The giant laughed. "All my customers are. Never six feet exactly. So inconsiderate. And then they complain about the fitting." "What do you do if they're longer than six feet?" "Oh, that happens all the time. It's a simple fix." He let go of my neck, but before I could react, he reached behind a nearby sales desk and brought out a huge double-bladed brass axe. He said, "I just center the subject as best I can and lop off whatever hangs over on either end." "Ah," Percy said, swallowing hard. "Sensible." "I'm so glad to come across an intelligent customer!" The ropes were really stretching my friends now. Annabeth was turning pale. Grover made gurgling sounds, like a strangled goose. "So, Crusty..." I said, trying to keep my voice light. I glanced at the sales tag on the valentine-shaped Honeymoon Special. "Does this one really have dynamic stabilizers to stop wave motion?" "Absolutely. Try it out." "Yeah, maybe I will. But would it work even for a big guy like you? No waves at all?" "Guaranteed." "No way." "Way." "Show me." He sat down eagerly on the bed, patted the mattress. "No waves. See?" I snapped my fingers. "Ergo." Ropes lashed around Crusty and flattened him against the mattress. "Hey!" he yelled. "Center him just right," I said. The ropes readjusted themselves at my command. Crusty's whole head stuck out the top. His feet stuck out the bottom. "No!" he said. "Wait! This is just a demo." Percy uncapped Riptide. "A few simple adjustments ..." "You drive a hard bargain," he told us. "I'll give you thirty percent off on selected floor models.'" "I think I'll start with the top." Percy raised my sword. "No money down! No interest for six months!" He swung the sword. Crusty stopped making offers. I cut the ropes on the other beds. Annabeth and Grover got to their feet, groaning and wincing and cursing me a lot. "You look taller," I said. "Very funny," Annabeth said. "Be faster next time."

Percy looked at the bulletin board behind Crusty's sales desk. There was an advertisement for Hermes Delivery Service, and another for the All-New Compendium of L.A. Area Monsters—"The only Monstrous Yellow Pages you'll ever need!" Under that, a bright orange flier for DOA Recording Studios, offering commissions for heroes' souls. "We are always looking for new talent!" DOA's address was right underneath with a map. "Come on," Percy said. "Give us a minute," Grover complained. "We were almost stretched to death.'" "Then you're ready for the Underworld," I said. "It's only a block from here."

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laurelsofhighever · 3 years

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Almost two years after civil war nearly tore Ferelden apart, Alistair has settled into his role as king despite the cost of the victory. Having come to Orlais to lead trade talks with Empress Celene and representatives from the Free Marches, he hopes to build a stronger future for his people. But grief and guilt still haunt him, the expectations placed on his shoulders cut deep, and to top it all off, there's a stranger in the Winter Palace with the power to shatter his world once again.

CW: sleep paralysis in the beginning

Something hunted her. Avarice, perhaps, or Glory. The light in her hand drew them ever closer, blinding them to the glint of the dragonbone Talon she kept unsheathed by her side, the blade that longed to sate itself on their spirit flesh. For one, the rose was a trophy, for the other, the essence of all she hoped to gain. The forest around her hung close, crooked branches girdled by beards of hoary lichen, roots trying to trip her, the light above blocked by the canopy so that only the bobbing green glow of wisps remained to guide her along the path. They drifted towards her and darted away again like shoals of curious fish, and as ever, the demons gained. She would have to turn soon, to stand and fight though exhaustion snapped at her heels. And something else nagged at her too, a weightlessness, a disconnect between her actions and the world around her as if chains dragged at her limbs.

A dream, then. In realising it, she slipped into sunlight as the forest dissolved around her, opening her eyes to rich furnishings and sheets of gold brocade overlaid with soft pelts to keep out the cold, the warm pull of an arm thrown over her stomach. Alistair lay already alert beside her, the details of his face blurred by the haze of first waking but no less dear because of it. As her body rolled and turned into him, he rose above her to bring her close, untangling his arm from the bedclothes to embrace her.

“Bad dreams?” he asked, in a voice that didn’t quite reach her sleep-fogged ears.

She felt no desire to reply, and instead slid her hand into the short strands of hair at the nape of his neck to pull him down to her mouth. His touch stirred the banked embers in her chest, his weight melding them together, one body, one lick of heat through questing limbs –

But he had no scent. There was no scratch of stubble against her cheek.

Her consciousness erupted into the prone form of her slumbering body, but got no further. She commanded it to move. Her flesh responded like stone, and panic rose like water to freeze her lungs. Avarice might be leaning over her, its claws poised above her to rend life from her bones and claim her skin as its own, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t see, couldn’t even feel her sword in her hand. A finger, an eyelid – anything that might bring her back to herself. She fought. She screamed inside her own head, pushing back at the darkness and at the illusion it fed her of her hands moving, the iron of her will useless against the dead weight of her limbs.

It must have been only moments before the paralysis recoiled and broke without warning, but it felt longer. It left her gasping in the dim, moonlit confines of an unfamiliar room, with an unfamiliar shape lumped among the pillows next to her. Despite her sudden start, the figure breathed in deep, even lungfuls of air, and as her eyes grew used to the dark, Rosslyn made out Alistair’s bearded face poking from the covers. His eyes roved under their lids, his lips parted slightly, while his hair – though longer than it had appeared in her dream – stuck out at all the odd angles she remembered. The certainty that she could not have imagined him so calmed the race of her heart and brought her back to where she was, the knotted string that had led her back into his life.

“No, Ambassador, I didn’t say that…”

His mumbles trailed off as he shifted under the covers, and she bit down on a smile. They had been in Highever when she first found out he talked in his sleep. She had teased him about it, and all the salacious things he might have uttered without the filter of his conscious mind to stop him, but even as her hand reached out to smooth his hair away from his face, the sweetness of the memories turned bitter. They had shared so little time together without the world getting in the way, brief weeks after only a year of knowing each other, and since then, she had lived two years in an endless Void, without anything to bar the sound of her own breath from her ears. He, meanwhile, had grown into the grace of his kingship without her. She had known he would, but it didn’t stop the whisperings of the snide voice at the back of her mind that told her he no longer needed her. What if everything, including his image, were just another dream?

She withdrew her hand without touching him.

Carefully, so Alistair wouldn’t notice, she shimmied out from under the covers and set her feet into the thick silk pile of the rug that guarded the bed like a moat. She counted her fingers, pressing her thumb to the tip of each one in turn, and then along the scar on her wrist that she had received from an accident in the training arena when she was still a beginner. The movements had become habit by now, but experience had taught her habit itself was dangerous, a way for the mind to skip over inconsistencies in favour of familiarity, and so to ground herself she closed her fist around Talon’s blue leather scabbard. Slowly, making sure to feel the difference between cool metal wire and rough drakeskin, she half-drew the blade and winced at the scrape of the dragonbone as it came free.

Here lay the test; she breathed deep relief when her reflection showed her eyes, a slice of the tapestry behind her, and nothing else. It did not warp into any monstrosity, or move while she sat still, and with a roll of her shoulders she eased the sword back into its rest. Not that it stopped her hands from shaking. With a last long glance over her shoulder, she rose and padded across the expanse of gilded carpet, with Talon held tight in her left hand so the buckles wouldn’t jingle.

No expense had been spared in the appointments of the Emperor’s bedchamber. The high ceiling had been painted blue and dusted with silver stars that glinted in the moonlight spilling in from the windows. The largest of them mapped out the constellations visible in the night sky, though as she gazed upwards, Rosslyn noted that they had been arranged according to aesthetics, rather than accuracy to the true heavens her mother had taught her to read as a child. With a rueful twitch of her lips, she turned away and skirted the suite of chaises and spindle-legged sofas that clustered around the fire, their fine silk threads a heady texture under the trail of her fingers.

She found the opulence garish, from the sculpted marble halla framing the hearth to the tapestries on the wall that showed scenes of nobles hunting or riding into battle on horses with faces that seemed almost human, and she imagined the expression Alistair might have let slip when he first opened the door. Only the drift of woodsmoke from the fire brought her any familiarity, the faint, whining hiss of its heart filling the silence as she explored. A bookcase stood in the corner of the room at the edge of the fire’s shaky glow, but close enough to spark against the gold-leafed titles on the spines. Still unsettled, she tilted her head to read them, mouthing their names to herself before she pulled out a likely tome concerning natural science and let the pages fall open on a discussion of dragon anatomy. She forced herself to see the shape of the words as well as their meaning, the first sentence on a page and then the last, and then the first again to make sure it hadn’t changed.

“Rosslyn?”

She dropped the book and turned, Talon already ringing out of the scabbard as she sank into a defensive crouch at the unexpected voice. Blinking groggily, Alistair sat up in the bed, running a hand through his hair to smooth it down. His eyes shifted from her face to the weapon in her hand and the battle-ready stance she was too slow to hide.

“What are you doing over there?” he asked as she turned towards the window and tried to calm the race of her pulse. She heard him kick the covers away, the grumbled command to the glowstone, and the pad of his bare feet across the floor.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Even though she heard him coming, she flinched when he touched her arm.

He edged closer. “Bad dreams?”

She clenched her jaw against the chill of déjà vu down her spine. “Something like that.”

“Are you alright?” he asked.

A sigh tumbled from her lips as she ducked her head, as she leaned into the hand sliding into the small of her back and fought against the part of her that wanted to make light of what he must have seen. And yet, hadn’t she been trying for months to find him again? His lack at her side had been a physical ache beyond even the scars the Fade had left on her; to shut him out now when he was reaching out seemed too much like madness, like being bested by the fear she had pushed back for so long.

“When I was in the Fade, it was difficult sometimes to tell what was real,” she admitted, drawing her hands around herself. “When I had to sleep I’d wander through the dreams of others, and when I woke up I could never really be sure that I really was awake or if it was just some trap set by a demon. It’s been… hard to adjust back.” She kept her gaze on the carpet, but then she didn’t need to look to feel the cautious sympathy radiating from every line in Alistair’s body.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I…” The heat of his palm was a distraction, a reminder of all the times she had opened her eyes on his image and wondered whether the illusion might be worth succumbing to it. She had been alone too long, and left too many pieces of herself behind with the corpse of the Nightmare. But he was too clever, reading her silence and the fear behind it as if the words were scrawled across her face, and he moved close so that his bulk and his scent might fold her away from the world, cupping her jaw to lay a kiss at her temple.

“What will help?” he asked.

Rosslyn let herself wrap around him; her body acted on its own initiative and buried into his shoulder as her mind drifted back to the bad episodes of the first few days, when Merrill had led her through reality and shown her all the ways to rely on her senses again.

“Details,” she said, content to lose herself in the rhythm his fingers made against the back of her neck. “Things to ground me, that my mind can’t make up.”

“Such as?”

“Words on a page, smells…” She allowed herself a smirk. “That damned beard.”

“More baseless attacks against facial hair?” He tutted, shaking his head and deliberately mussing her hair with the accused beard in the process. “You’re still as cruel as ever, dear lady.”

Her heart fluttered. “I’m still ‘dear lady’?”

“Always.”

When she could stand to lean away, she looked up at him, gazing at her with the same oak-bronze eyes she remembered, the same flecks of gold, the calm and the rapture and the certainty that had steadied her soul from the beginning. Unable to bear the weight of his expression, she turned her focus to the slight bow-curve of his mouth, and the growth of hair that accentuated the strong line of his jaw. It was several shades darker than that on the rest of his head, though as she gently raked her fingers through it, strands of copper and gold caught in the glowstone’s light. His eyes slipped closed at the touch and she smirked wider.

“You like that,” she murmured.

He hummed. “I never thought it would feel so nice.”

If they had been together, they would have discovered such sensitivity long ago.

“Rosslyn?”

She bolstered her crumbling smile. “I just thought of a use for these bristles of yours.”

“Mm?”

Instead of answering, she closed her fingers and drew him down with the lightest pressure until they met in a soft brush of lips. “That’s a much easier way of getting you to kiss me.”

“Easier than just being in the same room as me?” he teased. “Easier than being brave and beautiful and everything I’ve ever wanted?”

She let go. His smile was earnest but she couldn’t look at it, blinding and stealing her breath as if she were stepping out into the sun on a winter’s day. And still, his sigh cleaved her like a butcher’s knife as his hand skimmed the length of her arm to where Talon still rested in a white-knuckled fist.

“I have guards outside,” he told her. “You’re safe. Whatever hunted you before, I won’t let it get you here.”

She remembered another night, after an attempt on her life, when he had sworn himself to her defence. “So Orlais has run out of assassins, then?” asked lightly.

“Come back to bed,” he murmured, raising her knuckles to his lips. “Or – we could read one of the books, if…”

“If I don’t think this is real? You don’t need to worry about that, I’m convinced.”

The tension knitted tight through his shoulders unspooled. “I’m glad.”

“You don’t have to stay up on my account.” A smile ghosted across her mouth, brief and unconvincing. “This is hardly my first night without sleep, and from what I overheard earlier, you have negotiations to attend in the morning.”

“And rob you of the company? Perish the thought. Besides,” he added, bending past her to pick up the book she had been skimming, “Une étude de draconides du sud sounds fascinating.”

“It’s rather dry, actually.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Then maybe it’ll send us back to sleep faster. Come on, those chaises look comfortable, even if they’re gaudier than any furniture has a right to be.”

Defeated, Rosslyn sighed and let herself be tugged along, unable to entirely fend off the infectious grin sent her way, or the squeeze in her chest as she sat and Alistair knelt before her on the floor to wrap a heavy blanket around her shoulders.

“Will you read to me?” she asked.

His smile softened. “Of course. Now budge up.”

Negotiating the chaise took more effort than the bed. Despite being wide enough for the voluminous panniers favoured by Orlesian fashion, the springy, overstuffed cushions had not been designed to accommodate even one person lying down, much less two who had become unused to coordinating their limbs. After a lot of awkward folding and a brief interlude where she made him sit up again to take one half of the blanket, Rosslyn settled on her side with her back against the chaise and her cheek resting on Alistair’s shoulder in order to see the pages as he read them. Talon, still within reach, had been propped against the armrest.

“Now, let’s see, where shall we start…”

Heaving a contented sigh as he flicked through the pages, she snuggled closer and wrapped her free arm more fully around his waist. The movement pushed up the loose hem of his nightshirt, and without thinking she followed the feel of warm skin and slipped her hand beneath the fabric, pleased with the small hum elicited by the movement. After a moment, however, she paused, frowning. Instead of the smooth expanse of muscle she had once known almost as well as her own body, her fingertips tracked along a line of hard, raised tissue that curved across the point of Alistair’s hip.

“What…”

“Rosslyn?”

She levered herself upright and lifted the fabric to get a better look at the scar. “I don’t remember this.” Three long, uneven stripes stood out pale against the richer tone of his skin, faded enough that the initial blow must have been healed by magic, but still livid pink beneath where the new flesh didn’t quite meld with the old.

“Oh, that. It’s nothing, really.” He pulled the shirt down again to cover it, and dragged her hand to his lips. “Don’t worry about it.”

“It looks like it hurt,” she pressed.

He smiled, too wide. “Barely felt it, actually. This looks like a promising page –”

“What happened?”

“Just leave it alone!”

Stunned, she flinched away to better look at him, at the immediate regret in his eyes and the wariness that still lurked behind it.

“Rosslyn –”

“It happened at Ostagar, didn’t it?” she said, and felt her stomach lurch as he sat up and hunched over with his elbows on his knees.

“It… It was while they were still clearing the rubble. There was still hope, but not much, and every rock they lifted where they didn’t find you…” He bit his lip. “It all got too much in the end, so I took a party out to hunt down the demons that escaped the rift’s collapse. One got a lucky swipe.”

All because of her. She shut her eyes and dropped her forehead to his shoulder to banish the image of him, wounded and grieving and hating her. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he murmured “You’re the one who was always telling me not to drop my guard.”

“If I had been there…”

“No. Don’t do that. I’ve spent two years wondering what might have been.” Arms wrapped around her waist, fingers under her jaw coaxing her to look at him. “You’re here, now, and everything’s going to be alright.”

Still unsure, she shook her head. “I thought this would all be so easy. I thought I could just… walk back into my life like none of it happened. But everything’s so different.” Just because she had been stuck in time, she had assumed the same of everything else, that she might return to the moment she first struck the Nightmare and still have her place as the Falcon without politics or resentment to cloud her triumph. The worst of it, the part she could barely admit even to herself, was that everything from her return to Harrowhill to the painted stars above her might not be real at all, and yet she had wearied so much that not even the guilt of surrender could make her care. Perhaps the real Alistair had died along with her at Ostagar, the only thing left of him this illusion, a phantom set of hands around her waist the closest she would ever get to him again.

The pressure of those hands tightened before she could move away, drawn into his lap instead with the blanket forgotten around her knees.

“Not everything is different,” he said. “Not the important things. You’re still my wife.”

Her breath caught in her lungs.

“Unless…” A pause. “Rosslyn, when this is over – when you’ve done what you have to for Flemeth and these trade talks have been hammered out – you will come back with me, won’t you? Ferelden still needs its queen.” He swallowed. “And even if it didn’t, there’s not a moment that’s gone by that I haven’t needed you. It’s been awful, I’ve missed you so much.”

Something sharp constricted in her chest as the firelight caught in his eyes, on the tears he rapidly tried to blink away. “I didn’t know if you’d want me like before,” she confessed.

“Of course I do.” For the second time, the book tumbled to the floor, this time displaced from his lap so he could turn and take her face between both of his hands. “I love you. I never stopped.”

“I’ve caused you so much pain –”

“It’s alright,” he repeated, again, stroking her face with his fingers as he leaned forwards and pressed his brow to hers. “You came back to me. It’s alright.”

Soothed by the patterns he was drawing across the back of her neck, she shifted until her legs pressed on either side of his. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’m here. Rosslyn, I…”

His hands had wandered again, palms ghosting down her back and over her thighs, pulling her closer while his knees came up behind her to take more of her weight, to tip her forward onto his chest. She cupped his face and kissed him before he could gather himself enough to speak, and then followed the line of his jaw with lighter brushes of her lips to the pulse point in his neck, her concentration only broken when he found the hem of her borrowed shirt and slinked into a tighter embrace against her skin.

His teeth rasped against her shoulder, a chuckle low in his throat. “We’re supposed to be reading, dear lady.”

“You’re the one who started this,” she murmured back, as her fingers inched beneath his collar.

“You’re the one encouraging me,” he retorted. “Maker, I can’t get you close enough – tell me you don’t want to stop.”

“It’s not that…” A worry tugged at the small corner of her mind not yet consumed by the sensation of being touched, growing in presence until it could not be ignored. “I don’t know if I’m – if we’re still, uh, protected.”

“Ah.” To her relief, he didn’t push her away, and instead leaned back against the chaise with his arms around her shoulders. “And you don’t have any of that tea with you?”

“I wasn’t exactly expecting to need it.”

For an instant, the shadow of thwarted expectation hung in the air, mingling with her worry about the cost of her hesitation, until with the breath of a low, rumbled laugh, Alistair sent the tension blowing away like errant cobwebs on a breeze.

“I’m sure we’ll dig some up from somewhere eventually,” he allowed, helping her adjust so she lay adjacent rather than astride his lap. “Besides, after two years, I can’t say it would have been my best performance anyway.”

She stretched up, careful not to jab a knee into where it wouldn’t be appreciated, and pecked him on the cheek before tucking herself back against his side. “The performance isn’t what I care about.”

“I love you. Have I said that yet?”

“I could stand to hear it again.”

Their fingers laced, and for a while only the fire made conversation.

“It occurs to me,” he offered eventually, with a sly wiggle of his eyebrows, “there are other things we could do. If you wanted. We could find out why that bed is so ridiculously big.”

“We could,” she replied, careful. “But… I think I want this over first. I’m still bound, and I want to feel like myself when I call you my husband again.”

Another sigh heaved through his body, shuddered with uncertainty. “‘Husband’. I’ve missed hearing that. I’ve missed –” He scrubbed at his eyes. “You know, we never got our honeymoon. We said we’d go to Eastwatch when the war was over, but we never made it.”

“We were going to take picnics to the riverbank.”

They’d had it pictured so clearly before Ostagar, a shining beacon for which to strive, when their responsibilities might fall away just for a little while and allow them the peace that had always at the last eluded them. Her family’s estate, couched in a slow meander of the River Rangett with the sweeping glades and pastures of Marl-land beyond, had seemed the perfect remedy to the demands claimed of them by war.

“I left Teagan in charge in Denerim,” Alistair mused. “There’ll have to be a progress to show you off to the people now that you’re back, but I’m sure we can persuade the guard to lose us on the Imperial Highway – what are you laughing at?”

She drew his knuckles to her lips. “You. Talking like a politician. Plotting. You’ve grown.”

“I hope that’s not a comment on the number of fine cheeses I’ve been sampling of late,” he huffed, shifting beneath her.

She recognised the deflection for what it was but let it go, realising the dark turn of her thoughts must have shown in her voice, the knowledge that so much of the person he had become was a stranger to her. And yet, as he reached down to retrieve the now sadly crumpled Une étude des draconides from where it had fallen, the way their bodies fit together and the logs cracking in the fire brought back all the promise she had felt in those few weeks by his side as they waited out her recovery from the Battle of Highever, the winter nights long and the frozen wind turned aside by the thick walls of her childhood home. He had read to her then, too, taking her away from the pain of her healing wounds to places woven by his voice alone, with his heartbeat under her ear and his fingers idle in her hair.

“Is the book alright?” she asked.

“A bit creased,” he answered. “But intact.”

“Good. Tell me about dragons.”

He read from the book until his voice turned hoarse, the winding prattle of academic language somewhat beyond his grasp of conversational Orlesian, but he tried keep the flow of words in cadence to at least get the general meaning. When he finally laid it aside and pinched his hands over his eyes to refocus his vision, the first rime of daylight could just be seen over the distant trees outside, a faint lilac stain against the ink of night swallowing the stars. Rosslyn didn’t stir even when he touched her shoulder to check her realness, when he gently carded the jet strands of her hair back from the wet patch of drool slowly seeping into his shirt. She had always slept heavily, like a true soldier, deep to dream and grumpy to rise, while he often started at phantom noises or spent hours trying to calm the whirl of his thoughts long enough to let him rest; more than once, he had used the slow, even rhythm of her breath to follow her into slumber.

He had so much to tell her. Without her to share it, his life had turned into one long road of nothing but duty stretching to the horizon, but now the details flooded back into his mind, full of colour. The two mares Fergus had given her as a wedding gift were stabled below as his own personal mounts, and Cuno waited back in Denerim, a pampered sire of many litters who would no doubt prove unbearably smug about being right that his mistress had survived.

The news could wait until they had more time, however, when they no longer had to hide her presence from Celene. For now, he had no wish to move her, but the angle of the chaise was beginning to hurt his back and they would both be in far more comfort on the bed.

“Rosslyn? Love, we need to get up, just for a bit.”

A wordless mumble was the only reply, tilting his mouth in a smile as he gave up and hooked one arm beneath her knees, the other around her back. Had she been awake, she would have complained about being carried when she had two perfectly good legs of her own, but as Alistair stood the movement only turned her further into his chest and her hands closed around the folds in his shirt. He tried not to think about how light she had become as he laid her down again a moment later, how much colder.

After pausing only long enough to retrieve Talon, he slipped under the covers beside her and pulled them up until she was tucked in snug up to her chin. Too much did her trusting, easy breathing remind him of their last night together before the battle at Ostagar, the morning when he had unwound his arms from her warm body and left without a word, hoping to keep her safe.

He would not suffer that again.

Careful and quiet, he tore his eyes away and rolled over, reaching for the top drawer of his nightstand where servants had stashed a set of reed pens, paper, and a writing pad. Both of them had duties, he his meetings and she the destruction of Morrigan’s mirror, but as he dipped the nib into the inkpot and sponged off the excess, he breathed deep through his nose, determined not to waste the gift Fate had chosen to grant him. After their trials were over, he would make sure they could both be together again. Forever, this time.

#dragon age #dragon age: origins #dragon age origins #da:o #alistair x warden #alistair x cousland #alistair theirin #king alistair #king alistair theirin #cousland #f!cousland #rosslyn cousland #the falcon and the rose

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scapegrace74-blog · 4 years

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No Light, No Light (Claire’s Anthem)

A/N To recap where we’re at in the Metric Universe, Jamie and Claire are living separately while their building gets repaired after a fire. Jamie has confessed to loving Claire, and she hesitantly agreed to give a romantic relationship between them a chance. The dates have gone well. Really well. Maybe a bit too well... Rated M, because they deserve it after all I’ve put them through.

All other parts of the Metric Universe are available on my AO3 page.

The amazing song by Florence + The Machine (another guest artist!) that inspired the title and features in a few lines can be heard here: https://youtu.be/HGH-4jQZRcc

August 24, 2018, Scottish Highlands, Scotland

Outside the train, the landscape slid by in an emerald smear. It had been raining earlier, but as the sun dipped westward it broke from beneath the clouds, setting the greens afire. The view was violently beautiful, but Claire stared instead at her face, pensive and wan, reflected in the smudgy window. There was an almost laughable lack of connection between herself and the taciturn man to her left.

It hadn’t started out that way. After a near-idyllic summer dedicated to their mutual enjoyment of each other’s company, this trip to Scotland was meant a culmination of sorts. A validation that they were moving towards something momentous. A delineation between their past as friends and their future as... something more.

Jamie had first mentioned the idea in passing while they waited in line for a gelato in the shadow of the Gherkin on a hot July day.

“T’would be braw tae introduce ye to Lallybroch before ye return tae yer studies, Sassenach,” had been his exact words. Claire had learned to appreciate Jamie’s deft navigation of the shoals of her caution. An invitation to meet his family would have garnered an immediate negative response, but an invitation to his family home received an ambiguous hum.

Several weeks later, they were searching Netflix for a movie they could agree on while cat-sitting for Joe and Gayle. Said cat was lounging on the sofa cushions between them when Jamie casually raised the ante.

“Tomorrow I’ll be buyin’ my ticket home for the August bank holiday. The trains north will be packed, so I was thinkin’ I’d grab a second seat. Just in case, ye ken. T'is refundable, sae there’s no harm.”

By the end of the evening, the cat had fled the room, Claire’s shirt was down to its last button, Jamie’s summer tan couldn’t mask the flush of blood that raced beneath his skin, and the idea of spending a weekend away together sat like an unopened present on the closet shelf of their minds.

Last Monday, between her day shift and his graveyard, they had met for coffee to discuss the details of moving back into their flat.

“Jamie, my name is on this lease.” Claire set down her cup rather abruptly on the table, spilling a few hot drops over her fingers.

“Aye, tis. I asked the landlord tae include us both. Considering all the delays an’ the nuisance, tis the least they could do.” Pausing to hand her a napkin, he balanced his fingertips over her scalded knuckles. It’s yer flat too, Sassenach. No matter what.”

The gravity of the moment hung heavy in the air. Neither spoke for a while, letting the hum of ambient conversation dull the edges of their nerves. Claire slid an unsigned copy of the lease into her satchel.

“I, uh, I ken this mayna be the best time tae be bringing this up, but I’ll be away home come Thursday, back on Monday. There’s still a ticket in yer name, should ye wish tae come wi’ me.”

She looked at him then, so earnest and open and hopeful, the sunlight from the street burnishing his hair coppery-gold. He’d crept in like a thief, disturbing the tidy boxes of her life and leaving traces of his passage on her heart. A thief who gave instead of took, and whose only crime was to love without recompense.

“What would it mean, if I went to Scotland with you?” she asked quietly.

“It would mean everything to me,” he admitted.

That hadn’t been what she was asking, but it was her answer all the same.

The day before they were due to depart, Claire had been eating a late afternoon snack in the hospital cafeteria when a familiar tall form in running gear caught her eye. She couldn’t suppress the frisson of delight she felt as he made his way towards her table, a whiplash of appreciative female gazes following in his wake.

His infectious smile of greeting faltered and then disappeared as he caught sight of what she was reading.

Oh.

The monthly rental property magazine had been left behind on her table, but she’d be lying to say she was browsing it purely out of idle curiosity. The weight of seeing her name next to Jamie’s on their new lease had been pressing down on her since Monday.

On the one hand, it was a tremendous relief - no longer could the outcome of their courtship render her homeless - not that she could imagine Jamie ever being as cruel as Frank. But it also implied a commitment, a state of permanence between them, that quite frankly scared the shit out of her. And so she had been perusing her options, not with any serious intent, but because it gave her comfort to know they existed. Jamie had dropped by unannounced at the worst possible time.

A crowded cafeteria wasn’t the place to start making excuses, so after a stilted exchange about meeting the next day at Euston Station, Jamie departed, a small storm cloud of ire floating above his head.

By the time they met the following morning, that cloud had darkened to a gale, blowing all hope of casual conversation before it. Jamie’s disposition was generally sanguine, but when he put his mind to it he could glower like the Viking gods he resembled. It made for a silent journey.

“Ye can just go ahead and say it, Claire.” When it came, his voice was diminished by resignation.

“I’m curious what it is you want me to say,” she replied.

“That ye willna be moving back inta the flat next month. If that means we willna be seeing each other at all, well, I’d rather ye tell me before I go introducing ye tae my family as my girlfriend like a fool.”

When she turned to face this accusation, the first thing she noticed was the absence of light behind his typically radiant blue eyes. It neutralized the acid on her tongue.

“Those are awfully dire conclusions to be drawing from some rental adverts, my lad,” she quipped. Then, almost begging. “You promised to be patient with me.”

“Aye, I did. But ye also promised tae try, Claire. I canna help but feel that ye’re just marking time, waiting for me to fuck up badly enough that ye can say, well, that’s that then, another disappointment, and retreat tae yer solitude.”

It wasn’t far from the truth, although she’d never have stated it so baldly. As with every emotional conversation she had with Jamie, his words left her feeling naked and exposed. He saw her so well. She didn’t doubt the sincerity of his love for her, because what else kept a man coming back once all the ugliness was on display?

“I hear what you’re saying, Jamie. I think you know this isn’t easy for me. Just being here with you on this train, Christ. I almost called you twice this morning to say I wouldn’t be coming.”

“But ye didna. Why?”

“Because the only thing that scares me more than being with you,” her voice rose in pitch, “is being without you. I’m here, but it’s taking bloody everything I have. So please do not ask me for more,” she pleaded.

A strong arm wrapped around her shoulder and she came to nestle against him willingly.

“I would never ask ye for that, a ghraidh. I only want ye tae learn tae let go of yer fear, as it serves for nought. I learned that the hard way with my accident. T’wasn’t anything I earned nor deserved, but it happened nonetheless. We canna chose if we win or lose. We can only chose how we fight.”

She listened to his heart, steadily thumping beneath the muscles of his chest. To think, he could have been taken away before she came to know the dimensions of its strength. It sent a chill down her spine.

“I ne’er told ye, that first night we met a’ the pub, how ye reminded me of a fierce lioness. All golden eyed and imperious. An’ when I saw those same eyes, peering at me o’er a surgical mask the night of the blast, I understood I would live, because ye did. Ye’re a fighter, Sassenach. I kent it from the start.”

“God, Jamie, I was an utter shambles at the time,” she confessed. His faith in her was overwhelming.

“Aye. But ye were goin’ down swinging.”

***

Ian Murray, Jamie’s best friend and brother-in-law, met them at the train station in Inverness. As they navigated the country roads, his conversation with Jamie had the ease and teasing short-hand of timeworn friendship. Claire was content to sit quietly and listen, the inconclusive discussion on the train looming large in her peripheral vision.

It was well past dark as they arrived at Lallybroch, giving the structure an air of timelessness as yellow light bathed the courtyard from windows high above. The battered wooden entrance swung open to the welcoming chaos of barking dogs, children’s laughter and lilting Gaelic voices spilling into the night.

Claire hung back, pretending to help Ian with their bags as Jamie jogged forward to embrace a dark-haired woman who barely reached his shoulders, lifting a giggling toddler from her hip and high into the air. The dogs spun around his legs, practically tripping him as he tried to climb the stairs and answer his sister’s rapid fire questions all at once. Halting before the door, he handed his nephew over before Jenny disappeared inside, the dogs at her heels.

Feeling absurdly nervous, Claire mounted the stairs and accepted his outstretched hand.

“So, this is it?” she asked inanely.

“Aye, this is it. Welcome to my home, Sassenach.”

***

They’d eaten on the train, so after a hasty introduction to the rest of the family and a promise to become better acquainted over breakfast, Jamie and Claire headed upstairs. It occurred to her on the second landing that she had no idea where he expected her to sleep. Their status as temporary lodgers in other people’s homes back in London had made the question moot.

Visceral memories of their increasingly heated goodnight kisses caused Claire to trip on braided rug. Jamie turned as she was righting herself.

“Aye, well, here we are. The lavatory is jest across the hall. If ye need anything, the laird’s room is up these stairs.”

“The laird’s room? Wait, who’s the laird in this story?” she was momentarily distracted from her agitation by this unforeseen detail.

“Well, me. But dinna get any grand illusions. Tis only a leftover title from when Clan Fraser ruled o’er these parts before the Rising.”

Her mouth was moving before she fully considered her next words.

“And does that make me your lady?”

Instead of laughing off her glib comment as she hoped he would, Jamie’s face grew somber.

“Nah. Tha’ position is presently unfilled. In this house, the laird sleeps next tae his lady, always. G’night tae ye, Sassenach.” And with a soft kiss that barely ghosted her lips, Jamie retired to bed. Alone.

***

The next two days were a glimpse into a way of living whose existence Claire had previously discredited. Communal mealtimes, where each family member had an assigned role, from buttering the bread (Jamie’s three-year old nephew and namesake) to clearing the table (Ian, and by their second meal, Claire). Morning and evening chores that left the adults drowsy and smelling slightly of the chicken coop. Siblings bickering, slamming doors and then laughing about it by suppertime. Outings to local landmarks in the rain, a cheerful row of matching Wellingtons and wax cotton jackets tramping along well-worn paths. Visits to neighbours, carrying a Pyrex dish of some culinary offering and returning four hours later, stuffed to the gills and carrying a different Pyrex dish loaded with leftovers.

Seeing Jamie take his place at the centre of this family dynamic was a shock. She’d only ever known him in an urban setting, where he was one man among millions; noteworthy for his decency, his peculiar fondness for blood pudding, and because he was hers. At Lallybroch, he grew before her eyes, taking on new dimensions that challenged and teased her understanding of him.

This was his concept of home.

This was his template for love.

***

On Sunday afternoon, the clouds had lifted to reveal a robin’s egg sky. Claire accompanied Ian on a circuit of the upper pasture. A border collie named Jem bounded down the hill ahead of them. Ian was an easy companion, and they were mid-conversation about the impact of the Scots in the history of medicine when Claire pulled up short, words evaporating in her throat.

There in the hay field just below stood Jamie. Long rows of golden sheaves that had been cut the past week were now drying in the late summer sun. Armed with nothing but a pitchfork, Jamie had obviously been working for some time. He wore boots and loose trousers, but his shirt was long abandoned. Sweat glistened in the fine russet curls that covered his breastbone and over the sun-kissed curves of his shoulders. He was so beautiful, it hurt to breathe.

“He’s himself again,” Ian remarked. “It lightens my heart tae see it.”

Claire tore her eyes away from Jamie. Ian was watching her with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

“Well, he obviously loves being here, with his family...” she dodged.

Ian shook his head.

“Nah, t’isn’t that. Since his accident, he’s been... altered. Jamie was always the golden one, ye ken? Smart, strong, funny, kind. He wore it well, but it gives ye a sense of... invincibility, maybe? Tha’ blast ripped apart more than his back. I think it made him doubt who he is on the inside. Ye’ve helped him find tha’ man again, Claire, and for that we are in yer debt.”

She couldn’t look at Ian then, for fear that he would see just how much she wanted what he was saying to be the truth. To be essential to someone who meant so much to her, to be enough purely by being herself, it was more than her feelings could contain.

It was what Jamie had been trying to tell her all along.

***

The third stair between the guest room and the laird’s bedroom creaked, and Claire froze, eyes darting guiltily down the corridor to where Ian, Jenny and their children slept. Nothing stirred beyond the drumming of her heartbeat, so she crept the rest of the way, tapping quietly on the solid wood door.

Jamie’s voice was alert as he beckoned, “Come in, Jenny.” She clutched a thin sheaf of papers to her chest and entered the room. The only illumination came from the hearth, where a low fire still blazed. It cast its light on a large, masculine room, with deep blue wallpaper, heavy damask drapes and an immense four poster bed. Jamie sat up against the headboard, the glow from his iPad echoing in his downcast eyes.

“It’s not Jenny. It’s me,” she whispered.

With a visible flinch, the iPad fell to his lap.

“Claire...”

He stretched her name out like honey from a jar, trickling sweetly from his mouth.

She wanted to run. From this plush room, this welcoming home, this uninvited sanctuary of tenderness. Her legs quivered with the impulse. Instead, she plunged forward into the room, right to the edge of the bed, and thrust her offering towards Jamie, who followed her movements as though she was defusing a bomb.

“Whas’ this then?” he asked, peering down at the document.

“It’s our lease. I signed it. And faxed a copy to the landlord.”

There, she had done it. The pebble that would start the landslide. There was no turning back now, and it was pure relief.

Jamie was silent for so long, staring down at her signature, that she began to wonder if he’d fallen asleep. When he looked up again, his eyes were glassy.

“Are ye sure, Sassenach?”

A drunken encounter in a pub. Agony radiating from his bright blue eyes on a hospital gurney. Her rain-soaked salvation. A roommate. A friend. His steady patience as they tentatively grew closer. And now something more, something bigger than she knew how to articulate, sneaking around the margins of her fear.

She wasn’t sure of much, but she was certain that Jamie’s love could never hurt. The rest, the panic that she could lose him or disappoint him, that was just the price of paradise.

Instead of answering the question directly, she walked around to the opposite side of the bed and gestured to the empty mattress beside Jamie’s long body.

“Is this place still vacant?”

His smile was radiant.

“For ye, Sassenach, always.”

***

It was like no other sex she’d ever experienced. Intimacy, up until then, had been a transaction, an exchange of debits. This was a cancellation of accounts, an obliteration of any mutual debt. They loved each other with the pure, mindless joy of a wave meeting the shore.

Which isn’t to say that it was perfect. It felt strange to touch Jamie in more than a friendly way. Not at all unpleasant, but strange. Like going to the theatre to see a well-loved play, and suddenly being thrust onto the stage. The hesitance behind Jamie’s touch told her he felt something similar.

In a particularly awkward moment, they were jostling and bumping to remove each other’s pajamas when her hair got caught in the buckle of his watch.

“Ouch!” she yelped. He pulled away, stammering apologies, which only made things worse. After a few failed attempts on Jamie’s part, she reached up and unclasped the watch band, giving him two hands to work with. By this point they were both giggling, the gravitas of the moment lost.

“Ye’ve a great deal of hair, mo nighean donn,” Jamie groused as he lay the offending watch on his nightstand.

“Complaining already, Fraser?”

“God, no. Ye’re... would it be sentimental tae say ye’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?”

She was lying naked, but for a pair of skimpy knickers, the firelight caressing her limbs where they were splayed against the dark sheets. Jamie’s visual perusal of her body held a potent combination of lust and reverence that warmed her blood.

“I suppose I can tolerate a bit of sentimentality,” she conceded, rolling towards the bulwark of his naked chest. Her fingers played down the corduroy ripples of his flank.

“You’re beautiful too, Jamie.”

The mood in the room shifted again. Soon they pitching across the mattress, trying to touch in as many ways possible. Their skin grew slippery with sweat. At some point, underwear must have been removed, because she could feel the coarse abrasion of his pubic hair against her thigh, alongside the tensile ridge of his erection.

“Claire,” he gasped as their hips ground together in frenzied pulses. “If ye dinna want me tae go any further, I need ye tae tell me now.”

She reached between them, taking the heft of him in her palm, feeling a spasm of need shudder through his frame.

“There’s nothing about you that I do not want, James Fraser.”

A cavernous groan, a frantic search for a condom in the bedside drawer, the tearing of a foil wrapper, and then a breathless hesitation. She opened her eyes to see Jamie looking down as though she was the morning sun. There was nothing left inside her but dazzling hunger, filling the spaces where her fear once resided.

Here was the start.

#my writing #outlander

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guardianofjunmyeon · 4 years

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Finding Atlantis (part 6)

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description: 20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But fewer men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean, the key to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold should they find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself. Thus, the hunt began.

A/N: I meant to update last week but my VPN wasn’t working! I couldn’t access tumblr bc it’s blocked here in china but i finally got it fixed lol. This one is long! WARNING(s): Smut + Character Death (??)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

After hours of discussion and blindly heading southeast, you all were finally able to somewhat crack the code of the rhyme and the map.

“Follow the sound of your soul, she’ll call out to you to bring you back to your shoal. That’s clearly about the Atlantis return song. It’s the most important part of all of this. If we don’t get a better handle of when it appears and when it doesn’t we won’t get through the rest of the trails.”

“Trials?”

“Yes, there are three different trials masked in the lyrics of the song. The way back isn’t easy. If you leave Atlantis, you have to prove that you truly want to return,” Yeri replies.

You squint at the map now covered in writing.

“She’ll fight you to prove that your heart is true, to crush you and build you back stronger in her darkest shade of blue,” Sehun reads. “It’s about a storm. A very big one by the sound of it.” He points to an area of the map with nothing but water. “You see this area? It’s known for its unruly currents and unnatural weather patterns. It ranges from snow to thunderstorms large enough to wipe out entire islands.”

Junmyeon grazes his fingers over the map, passing the spot Sehun mentioned and further southeast. “Beautiful songs will call out to confuse the path, to distract you, but remembering your heart will get you through…if we continue beyond the location of the storm we’ll be set to approach Isla de Sirena within a week.”

“Shit,” Baekhyun murmurs.

Yeri looks on in confusion. “Why shit?”

“Isla de Sirena is an island known for luring ships underwater. They crash ships among the rocks with song. They appear as the most beautiful creature that you can imagine; whatever you subconsciously find the most alluring. I don’t know how they do it. Different people can look at the same one and see different things; they trick you that way. Mermaids…sirens, whatever you want to call them. Freaky little bitches.”

“Baekhyun,” Junmyeon admonishes.

“What? They are!”

“So we’ve got to face…beautiful singing women? Oh no the horror,” you gasp jokingly.

Baekhyun pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are so horny, and so stupid all the fucking time.”

“You’re one to fucking talk-”

“Children!” Junmyeon scolds. “Can we please hold off on the flirting until this is over?”

“We aren’t flirting-”

“Anyway!” You and Baekhyun close your mouths in embarrassment. “We’ve gone near Isla de Sirena, once,” Sehun adds grimly, eyebrows pitching angrily. “If you’re able to ignore their voices then you can see them for they are. They’re the ugliest creatures I’ve ever seen in my life.” He shivers.

“So what’s the final trial?” Baekhyun asks, back to contributing to the conversation and not being a pain in your ass.

“She’ll finally take you in her arms again, cradled and safe where all life began…” Yeri reads. A sigh. “We aren’t completely sure. It’s something about a rebirth?”

You scratch your chin.

“Maybe it’s about being drowned.”

Everyone turns their eyes to you.

“What?” you ask; your wide eyes look back at everyone staring at you as if you said something crazy. You point to the map in the general area where you think you all may end up. “There’s no land anywhere near here, and the city is underwater. Born from water, taken away from water, and then reclaimed by the water. If you leave, you must be drowned and reborn into an Atlantian again right? Why else would you forget your memories and connection to the sea the longer you’re away?”

“You are reborn in the place where life began…” Baekhyun mumbles. “You might be right. The final trial is a drowning of some kind. There’s a reason only Atlantian’s are the only people who can reach the city.” Baekhyun smacks you on the shoulder. “You’re not completely useless!”

You frown and hold your shoulder.

Bastard.

~~~

Candles cover the deck of the ship as the sun sets on the horizon. You watch somberly as each member of your crew places an object that reminds them of Taemin, of Amber, of Kun, and of Jaehyun in each of the four caskets meant to sail them to the other side.

Their bodies are wrapped in cloth to save everyone the trauma of facing their decomposing faces. Flowers, candies, articles of clothes surround each body with the things that made them who they were in life.

And will hopefully comfort them in the land of death.

Your most artistically inclined deckhand, Ten, places a portrait of each of them in their respective boat. An image to match the body.

“Jaehyun was always smiling; he worked hard as a gunner. He’d hoped one day to be master gunner of the ship.” Mark stands over the casket. “He uh, he never said much but he had the most imaginative mind of any person I ever met,” he says with a sad smile. “When the cannon backfired and killed him, it was quick, so at least he didn’t suffer for long. Farewell friend. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Luna takes over where Mark left off, standing in front of Amber’s casket. “I’ve known Amber since we were kids. She was a strange one,” she laughs. “She was very head strong and opinionated even when she was wrong. We both knew that working in the artillery was going to be rough, that it would be dangerous, but I know that she loved this job more than anything. She had a family with us, and she died where she would have wanted, I think.” Tears fill her eyes as she sits back down in the circle of crewmen.

“Kun…was like an older brother to me. He would tell me that I was getting on his nerves, but he would always take care of me…uh…take care of all of us in the best way he could. Every meal he served, every wound he healed, was done with care. Unfortunately, sickness isn’t as kind. He tended to Taemin with his last breath, tried to heal with all he had until he had nothing else to give. I’m going to miss him and his cheesy magic tricks.” Ten takes in a deep breath to keep his voice from wavering. “I hope he’s taken care of with as much love as he gave us.”

You can hear people holding back their tears. Sniffles and soft sobs escaping into the air every few seconds.

This time you stand as the representative to send off Taemin. You avoid everyone’s eyes and focus your gaze on his wrapped body and the trinkets around him. “Taemin was one of my earliest crewmen. I may have owned the ship, but Taemin was the one who knew best how she moved. He piloted with a grace and confidence I have still yet to achieve. I don’t have a single doubt that he’ll be able to guide himself to the other side without issue. He had a natural skill for movement.” You focus on an object nestled snuggly at his side. “I just hope he doesn't lose any of the things we’re sending with him the way he always loses his money pouches.” You manage a smile.

A couple of people chuckle softly, sadly.

“As Captain of the Storm Chaser, I release the four of you from duty.” You raise your gun in the air. “I couldn’t have asked for braver, hardworking, and loyal men.” You fire a single shot into the air.

It rings through the night.

Everyone stands, begins to close the wooden coffins, and Junmyeon soaks them in gunpowder and oil.

You watch the coffins get lowered into the water one by one. As they begin to float away, you, Mark, Luna, and Ten line up along the edge of the ship.

“Ready,” you all cock your guns. “Aim.”

“Fire.”

The coffins alight with flames. Yixing lights a single firework and it shoots into the air and covers the sky in bright yellow sparks.

May these lights guide them on their future paths.

No one moves until the coffins are far out of sight, their flames no longer visible. Until nothing but darkness rests in the distance. With heavy eyes, and heavier hearts, you all pull away from the railing.

Those who were close to the ones sent away cry openly and you allow everyone the rest of the night to rest and mourn as they see fit. Crying, shaking, screaming.

People cope in different ways.

As everyone disperses below deck you see Yixing rubbing Jongin’s back as the two of them cry clinging tightly to the other.

You know that Yixing grew up with Taemin. Yixing had been the one to recommend him for the crew because of their shared history. Knowing now that Yixing knew Jongin at the same time, you realize that Jongin must have known Taemin closely as well.

Leaving them to console one another, you walk away.

The stories of their deaths, of their lives, makes your heart a bit less heavy. Knowing that they died doing what they wanted, and not because life was stolen from them in situations counter to their personality eases a bit of the pain.

Minutely.

It still hurts, but the anger is no longer there. Just sadness.

This is the life of pirates after all.

Junmyeon has hidden himself away somewhere on the ship, as he always does when he wants to cry without being found, so you make your way towards the food storage for a drink. You need it after today.

People cope in different ways.

The stairs creak as you descend. One of the lanterns is already on, bright near the liquor storage. It shouldn’t surprise you. You wouldn’t be the only person who wants to drink to numb a bit of the pain.

What does surprise you is who you find hunched over with his face in his hands.

“Baekhyun?”

His head lifts and you immediately take notice of the red in his visible eye and face in the dim lighting. He seems alarmed to have been caught. He looks away in shame.

You sit down in front of him.

The bottle of whiskey at his side is half empty; you reach for it and take a sip.

For your men.

Silence shrouds you both.

You feel the need to speak. To clear the air. Whether you are doing it for him or for yourself you aren’t sure. “No one blames you, you know,” you say so softly that it almost blends into the silence. You hope he doesn’t hear.

But of course he does.

He looks over with anger. “I never said it was my fault.”

“You didn’t have to. You’re down here drinking alone after a funeral. This screams ‘this is all my fault’ you emo fucker.”

He snatches the bottle from your hands.

“Look, okay. No one thinks it’s your fault. You heard the stories. Yeah, you guys shot my ship, but their deaths weren’t directly a result of that. Things went wrong; I will accept that it was just a shot to immobilize us. If any of us thought you a murderer, in this case, we would have hung you by your neck long ago.” You forcefully grab the bottle back with a frown. “There’s plenty of other shit for you to feel guilty over. Like the time you shot me…or stabbed me…or left me on that island for dead.”

“I swear to the Gods-”

“The point is…this one isn’t on you. You don’t need to carry this guilt. Not this time.” You take a quick drink. “If however,” you point your finger at him menacingly, “this was on purpose, then I take all that back and I will kill you right fucking here I swear to the Gods.”

The bottle is taken back. “It wasn’t,” he admits, softly, angry. A swig. “It wasn’t on purpose,” he says again tiredly.

His honesty takes you by surprise. Baekhyun has killed just as many people as you have in your life. If he had tried to kill them, well that would be expected. But for him to be this affected by the accidental deaths? That’s surprising.

“What are you doing down here anyway?” he asks.

“Do you really think you’re the only person on this ship who hides down here drinking? You’re talking to the master!” you boast. “And it’s my ship you ungrateful wrench.” You finish off what’s left of the whiskey and reach for a bottle of golden rum tucked securely on a shelf. Uncorking it with your teeth, you hold it in the air between you. “To Taemin, Kun, Amber, and Jaehyun!”

It burns like hell itself going down.

You hold it out for Baekhyun with an expectant eyebrow raise. You wait.

He grabs it gently. “To Taemin, Kun, Amber, and Jaehyun,” he repeats in a murmur. He makes a noise of pain as the alcohol burns its way down his throat. “What the fuck is this?”

You shiver as the alcohol settles uncomfortably in your stomach. “It's the bad rum I think.” You cough violently. “Oh fuck I think I’m going to die,” you say clutching your stomach.

His wild laugh echoes in the dark space. A bit of the gloom lifts.

You let your hands fall from your stomach while you take in the relaxed happiness on his candlelit face. His eye crinkled in a crescent, shining with mirth. You don’t think you’ve seen him laugh like that since the first time you met him.

He’s pretty. You’d have to be stupid not to admit it. From his soft and shiny hair, to his cheeks that bunch up when he smiles. From his big dumb ears to all of the little moles that dot his body.

The bottle goes back up to his ridiculously pink lips and he laughs as it hurts his throat just as bad as the first sip.

All it takes is a second of thoughtless, drunken courage for you to lean forward and quickly press your lips against his, cutting off his giggles.

When you pull pack, the happiness on his face has made way for shock and then once more to nothing.

“Don’t kiss me,” he says tonelessly. His voice is serious, but you see the spark of challenge in his eye.

Ignoring the part of you that always tells you that jumping headfirst into him is a bad idea, you lean in again, slower. You brace your hands on his thighs and feel them tense beneath your palms. He stares at your lips and you watch enrapt as his tongue pokes out to wet his bottom lip.

You can feel your skin vibrating from the proximity to him, and you freeze; a breath away from meeting skin with skin. Your eyes glance up to meet his and you can see the want, the restlessness, and something else you can’t quite place in the dark.

As if waiting any longer would be torturous, he leans forward impatiently to press his lips against yours. The bottle of rum falls to the ground and spills onto the floorboards of the storage room.

You don’t care.

You push harder; open your mouth to let his tongue slide against yours in a way that sends tingles through every nerve in your body. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the touch of sadness, but something feels different about this time.

You crawl onto his lap, driven purely by instinct and press every inch of your body against his. Heat seeps through your clothes and you pant longingly as he pulls you closer by your neck, his other hand grabbing you roughly by your ass. A wanton moan escapes your mouth and he pulls you closer, rougher. Breaths puff into each other’s mouths as you messily connect your lips over and over again. It’s uncoordinated. It’s wet. It’s exactly what you need.

You thread your fingers in his hair and yank his head back; diving to lick and suck along the column of his neck, to the sensitive spot behind his ear that you know drives him crazy. His grip on your body tightens as he releases a shaky groan and rolls his hips up against yours. Anticipation thrums through your body. To every noise, to every touch your body responds in earnest.

This is nothing but a distraction. For you. For the both of you, you don’t care. Neither of you have to think as clothes are removed. The sadness can be ignored as you claw against his skin and coax his tongue into your mouth. It’s all movement. All feeling. All lust.

People cope in different ways.

It always happens like this. You argue. You fight. You threaten each other. You fuck until you’re both exhausted and too tired to care about the years of hatred between you. For these few moments all you are, are bodies. Bodies moving in tandem, kissing the right places, touching the right spots, connecting at the right angle. Like this things are easy, wordless.

You each just understand how the other works.

Every movement is matched in urgency, in desperation. Touch for touch. Kiss for kiss. Sound for sound. Push for pull. Gasps, moans, whimpers are muted as best you can in the quiet of the storage. You don’t realize that you’re subconsciously avoiding aggravating the stitches that lie there, still fresh, in his side as your hands leave burning paths along his skin.

Just for now, you can allow yourselves to feel that maybe you don’t hate each other as much as you let on.

~~~

“Get your own fucking telescope!”

“Where am I going to get one? We’re in the middle of the god forsaken ocean; do you expect me to pull it out of my ass?”

“You should have brought yours with you if you wanted to use one so bad! That doesn’t give you permission to just take my shit whenever you feel like it. You aren’t Captain here.”

“Oh, bite me.”

“I’ll do worse than that. Seulgi, get me my pistol.”

“Captain I don’t think-”

“You think you’re going to shoot me? Chanyeol where’s my gun?!”

“I’m gonna shoot you right in your last fucking working eye you dirty fucking son of a-”

A hand covers your mouth before you can finish your curse. “Baekhyun, you’re needed in the kitchen. Kyungsoo is asking for you.” You and Baekhyun share one last deadly glare before he stalks off and you’re released.

“What the hell Minseok?” You turn on your gunner, anger from your argument with Baekhyun being projected instead onto him. It has to go somewhere.

He crosses his arms over his chest, unbothered.

“So you’re in love with him right? That's why you’re acting like this?”

Your eyes bulge out of your skull. “I’m sorry, what did you just ask me?”

He sighs, grabs you by your arm and drags you all the way to the infirmary. You’re forced to sit down stupefied as Minseok stares at you expectantly. “The two of you are exhausting to watch. If you weren’t two of our most capable men we would have tied you both up and put you in the brig until we found Atlantis days ago,” he says evenly.

You scoff, mouth agape.

“I would tell you to fuck and move on, but seeing as that seems to be what triggers a fresh round of arguments, I’m going to ask that you two refrain from ever having sex on the ship again in the future.”

You splutter embarrassed. Your skin heats at having been called out so boldly. “W-what?! How- Wh- How’d you find out?”

“Any time the two of you have sex, you spend the next month or so telling all of us how much you hate him, how you’re going to kill him, blah blah blah. After a while you stop being as vocal about it, but then we make port, usually at Arae, and he happens to be there, then BAM we're back where we started. You’re obsessed with each other.”

You flush. “We are not,” you try to deny. His face is unimpressed. “I don't know where you got the idea that either of us feel anything but pure hatred for the other. Okay yeah, we’ve had sex a couple of times. So what? It doesn’t mean anything. I’ve had sex with half of Arae.” You cross your arms defiantly.

“As soon as this is all over, we’ll part ways...in 6 months we’ll go to Arae for a bit, as we always do, you’ll have ‘angry hate sex’ yet again and then spend the next month being pissy over his existence. No one who genuinely hates someone spends so much time a) around them willingly and b) obsessing over them when they aren’t around,” Minseok says matter-of-factly. “I think you should both admit you’re in love with each other so we can all move on.”

“Minseok!”

“I agree,” Jongin’s head pops up from behind the singular bed in the room.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, heat again filling your cheeks at the extra witness to this interrogation.

“I work here?”

“I mean hiding behind the bed!”

“Oh…I uh tripped and then the door opened and you guys started talking and I was too afraid to get up and interrupt,” he says quickly.

You squint in judgment.

“This whole…” Minseok waves his hand around as he searches for the word, “…archenemies thing is getting old, Captain. If you really wanted to kill him, you would have done it already. And I’m sure the same goes for Byun. Right Jongin?” he turns to face the younger.

“Yeah,” Jongin agrees with a shrug.

You can’t believe your ears. “He just…hasn’t done anything worth actually killing him over yet. He’s useful sometimes…for information…” you murmur lamely. The excuse is weak even to you.

“You are both dumb and annoying…and also super transparent. Whenever you injure the other, it’s always in a place that won’t kill or do permanent damage. Don’t act like it’s just been luck that you’ve both managed to miss any kind of serious blow from the other. You’re both deadly fighters, you know how to kill someone if you want them dead.”

“He ditched me in cuffs on that island-”

“You had the key to the cuffs,” Jongin chimes in unhelpfully.

Minseok rolls his eyes at your words. “Yes, and again, in a survivable situation. Was there not food and shit on that island?”

You open and close your mouth pathetically.

“Exactly. It’s not like you’re an incompetent dumbass. You would be able to find your way off even if you hadn’t been found. He didn’t blow the ship to bits like he could have a month ago, you haven’t slit his throat like you could have many months ago. You both dance around injuring each other, making the other’s life difficult, and fucking. You’re in love, please just accept it. I don’t care if you’re into BDSM and blood play or whatever freaky shit gets you guys off, but I would at least appreciate it if you kept it in your bedroom.”

Jongin nods from the back. “I just think it’s obvious,” he adds simply.

“Pff…Psh…Tch…I’m-I am appalled that you would talk to your Captain like this.”

“I know, I know. You could have us hanged, shot, thrown in the ocean, whatever…but the fact of the matter is that you aren’t going to do any of that, and you know that we’re right. Now, I’m going to go make sure Chanyeol hasn’t shot any of my men with any of my valuable pistols, and I’ll leave you to your duties, Captain.” Minseok nods his head with finality and exits the room.

Mutineer…

You glare at Jongin for ganging up on you. He flushes timidly. “I’m uh…gonna go see if Kyungsoo needs any help…Captain.” With a nervous smile he dashes from the room.

This is mutiny…

~~~

The ship sails southeast for days before anything alerts you all of the impeding first trial. The weather is normal, the water is normal, and then all of a sudden, the winds become violent.

“Captain, I think we’re getting close to whatever the first test is…” Yixing says tremulously.

The wind whips around you and the sails of the ship flap violently. There’s no way to tell which way the wind is blowing from as it whips from what feels like every side simultaneously. The ship tilts dangerously to one side.

“Junmyeon…that song telling you anything right about now?” You ask anxiously.

Your first mate looks out on the horizon with worried eyes. “We’re going the right way…” is all he says.

“Helpful,” Yixing murmurs sarcastically.

There is no visible sign of a storm; nothing seems out of the ordinary outside of the unnatural winds. The crew is already reefing your regular sails and raising the storm jib and trysail. If the winds get any stronger, which they will, they’ll catch your regular sails and capsize your ship before the waves even begin to hit.

“Who can man the helm? Who’s the best pilot on board right now?” you ask Yixing.

Yixing looks around a bit panicked. “I don’t know… I don’t know Captain.” The ship lurches to the side.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you scan the ship. Most of the men are working on preparing the proper sails, securing any moving parts, and making sure the wind alone won’t turn the ship on her side. You see Baekhyun working with Wendy on securing lose lines. You haven’t talked to him since your lecture from Minseok all those days ago. “Junmyeon, go check to make sure we have enough ballast in the hold. We’re going to be rocking and we need to pray that we have enough weight to keep us as stable as possible.”

He rushes away; you try to think of what else you can do to prepare. There’s no way to tell how long this storm is going to last, how bad it’s going to be, and you would rather prepare for the worst.

A sea anchor.

“Johnny!” The boatswain is immediately at your side. “Take whoever you need and deploy the sea anchor. We should have one somewhere in the hold. I need you to work fast, but be thorough.”

The ship is going to have to sail against the wind and against the waves. The wind will push the ship off course, but to survive a storm like this the ship needs to keep its bow to the waves. If a wave catches the ship on her side or back, there’s no chance for survival. You’ll have to use your sea anchor and just pray that the Gods are feeling merciful.

“Baekhyun!” you shout. He turns immediately at the sound of your voice. “How good are you at the wheel?”

“I’m decent.”

“How’s your tracking? Your jibbing? Can you keep the ship from capsizing in this storm?”

He looks up in the sky when the sound of thunder shakes the floorboards. “My jibbing isn't the best, but I think I can keep her afloat,” he promises.

The feeling of static fills the air. The hair on your body rises to attention. Another rumble of thunder rolls across the ocean, louder than before. The sky is darker than it was 5 minutes ago.

There isn’t much longer until the storm hits.

“I need you at the wheel. I’m trusting my ship to you. Don’t let me down.” With a determined nod, Baekhyun is off. You see your first strike of lighting. Bright blue and not far off.

Chanyeol runs up to you to assure you that all of the cannons, ammunition, and artillery are properly secured. “Tell Minseok to get all his men below deck in the storm rooms. Secure any hatch and pray to the Gods that we make it through this,” you instruct. He nods and runs off.

When a storm hits, it hurts more than it helps to have people above deck. Three people would do the job just as well as all 20. Half of weathering a storm is the training and skill of the crew; and the other half is just pure luck.

The beginning patters of rain begin to pelt the ship. You run back up to the helm where Baekhyun has stationed himself.

The ocean gets choppy, picks up ferocity. The ship leans starboard. Baekhyun has never steered your ship, and truthfully, you have no idea whether or not he can actually steer through a storm. You’ve never seen him at the wheel of any ship in all the years you’ve known him.

“Do you think we’ll make it through this?” you ask.

“Honestly…I don’t know,” he admits. “We have enough sea room; we won’t crash into anything this far out. I just hope we can pick up enough speed before the waves start to grow.”

Junmyeon reappears, with Kyungsoo at his side, both out of breath. “We’ve prepared all that we can. The sea anchor is deployed, we’ve got a decent amount of ballast, the jib is ready to be backwinded, and the crew is all prepared for the rocking. What’s the plan?”

“Heaving to,” Baekhyun says simply. He swipes at his bangs, heavy with water and clinging to this forehead. “We keep the bow to the waves, keep close to the wind, and then lock the helm in place.”

“Won’t we broadside?!”

“No, if we were to lie ahull, we would broadside,” Kyungsoo supplies, blocking his eyes from the rain picking up in ferocity. “By heaving to, we can keep the ship from going parallel to the waves and capsizing. We’ll have to stay above deck to correct it if the wind or waves suddenly change. Since you’ve got a sea anchor we’ve got more chance of keeping the ship sailing straight into the waves rather than along them.”

“If heaving to doesn’t work, we try to run off downwind. As the wind increases we’ll have to slow down the ship as much as we can so that we don’t dive straight into the wave in front of us.” A bolt of lightning hits the waves. The rain gets harder.

“We would die…” You say unhelpfully. Lighting blasts in front of you and the waves crash angrily against the ship’s sides.

“Exactly. So if we run off, we’re going to need more than the four of us to throw whatever heavy lines you have off the stern,” Baekhyun’s voice rises to be heard over the increasingly loud winds and waves.

“As a last result, we’ll lie ahull and just fucking pray that when we capsize the ship holds for long enough to keep all of us alive,” Kyungsoo shouts.

You exhale shakily as another three bolts of lightning flash across the sky.

Poseidon be kind to us all.

You leave Baekhyun with the job of steering the ship against the waves that grow in size and power by the second.

At Kyungsoo’s instruction, Junmyeon is in charge of keeping the jib backwinded, and you reef the trysail as soon as it becomes clear that it’s going to be a hindrance in the grand scheme of things. Kyungsoo stands at Baekhyun’s side correcting course when he gets thrown off balance. Baekhyun does the same as Kyungsoo is knocked to the side in turn.

The waves become brutal, rocking the ship so hard that it’s nearly impossible to keep on your feet for more than 10 seconds at a time.

The wind finally sets in a single direction, fiercer than anything you’ve faced, and the general direction of the waves becomes apparent. The ship rocks violently from side to side and then immediately forward and back. You’re thrown into the foremast by the unexpected direction change with enough force to knock the wind out of your body. You gasp in pain. You get up on wobbling legs and try to breathe even as the water falls so fast and heavy around you that it feels equivalent to drowning.

You can’t see more than two feet ahead of yourself.

Think. Think.

There is rope at your feet, secured to the mainmast of the ship. You untie it with cold, wet fingers and hold it tight as you walk to the helm. The ship crashes into another large wave and you fall to your knees as water washes over the bow of the hull, covers the deck in freezing water and pitches the ship forwards. You stand up, shivering but determined. You tie the rope around your own waist to help you keep note of where you’ve come from.

Getting to the helm is a challenge, but you make it. Junmyeon is helping Baekhyun and Kyungsoo lock it in place.

“We should head below deck!” You shout as loud as you can. Thunder and lightning work in tandem to drown out your voice. To remind you of who is louder. Who has more power. You’re soaked to the bone.

Each man above deck is in a similar state. “We’re going below deck!” Junmyeon shouts. “We think heaving to may work.” The ship lurches dangerously to the right.

“Quick! Let’s go,” Kyungsoo screams, hair clinging to his forehead in inky black tendrils.

You use the rope to guide you. It feels as though you’re swimming through the air with the amount of resistance the winds and rain are putting up. Kyungsoo makes it to the hatch that leads below first. You follow behind, climbing down the ladder with shaking limbs. Water leaks through the boards, but it’s a welcome change from the brutality of facing Mother Nature directly.

You gasp for breath, finally able to breathe without also inhaling water, and look around the space for the ship’s emergency supplies. The ship dips, your stomach lurches.

Freezing water streams into the room from the open hatch above. You realize belatedly that there are only two of you in the compartment. Baekhyun and Junmyeon haven’t made it down.

You’re thrown to the ground when the ship dips without warning.

Clattering catches your attention as Junmyeon is swept into the room with a fresh rush of water. “Baekhyun fell overboard!” Junmyeon screams. He crashes against the ground. The sky screams.

What?

Kyungsoo turns away from opening the hatch down to a lower level of the ship to gape at Junmyeon’s words in horror.

Gasping, soaked, Junmyeon looks around the compartment frantically.

You’re moving before you have a chance to think.

You vaguely hear your name being called out from behind, but you don’t turn around. Rope still secured around your waist, you run, slip, stumble, over to the closest life boat. As fast as your shaking hands can work, you cut yourself free of the mainmast and tie the end of the rope not tied to your body to the dinghy.

You slice through the thick ropes holding the dinghy to the side of the ship with an urgency you’ve never felt. Water hits you head on, chilling you to the bone.

The final rope snaps and you and the dighy fall into the water with the force of landing on cement. Something is broken, but your adrenaline is pumping so violently that you can’t feel the pain. It doesn’t register.

Doesn’t matter.

You look around frenzied. The water is pitch black and moving too fast. The rain pelts your skin. It stings, burns, blurs your vision.

The waves are too big for him to survive out here on his own.

They’re too big for you to survive in your search for him.

The sky roars.

The waves crash, flip your boat once, twice.

You settle upright for the second time when, by the grace of the Gods, you see his white shirt illuminated against the dark water by a strike of lightning. You row frantically as a wave begins to swell. You nearly scream in relief when you reach him, but the sound dies as your heart sinks.

He’s not moving.

And he’s face down.

With all the energy you can muster, you pull him into your little boat. You take a few seconds you catch your breath, then you realize the height at which the wave has lifted you. It begins to cascade down; instinctively, you wrap your arms around Baekhyun’s unmoving form and brace yourself for the crash.

It’s dizzying.

It hurts.

It’s terrifying.

You hold your breath, close your eyes, hold onto the man in your arms with all you have, and wait for the water to stop jostling you around so violently. The water seems to calm slightly, so you open your eyes.

The water is dark, and then bright. Black, and then illuminated by lighting.

Your chest tightens as your need for oxygen reaches desperation. You maneuver yourself beneath the water enough to hold Baekhyun with one arm and swim to the top with the other.

You break the surface and gasp for air desperately.

You pull your rope and the boat appears at your side, thankfully upright. You lift Baekhyun aboard first, and then with heavy limbs, you topple on top of him. You don’t give yourself a chance to catch your breath before you’re leaning over him checking for signs of life.

You lower your ear to his chest. You can’t tell if he’s breathing. If his heart is beating.

“Come on Byun. Don’t die on me like this,” you beg. You repeatedly push against his chest, the way you were taught to restart a heart. After a few beats you press your ear to his chest again to listen for a change.

Nothing.

“Fuck. Come on…come on,” you pant.

You pinch his nose and lean down to cover his mouth with yours, filling his lungs with the air that he’s unable to take in on his own. His chest rises each time you exhale into his mouth. You go back to pumping your locked hands against his chest. A wave knocks you on your side. The boat stays upright.

You exhale into his mouth again, once, twice. You beg the rain to let up. You beg the waves to grow smaller.

You beg his heart to start beating.

He jerks and water spurts from his mouth. Relief hits you so hard that all the energy left in your body is expelled and you sag forward and land directly onto his chest.

You can finally hear the dull thumping of his heart. You can feel the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

At last, you can take a second to just breathe.

The small boat continues to jerk around, but it’s clear that the worst of the storm has passed. The waves now are shallow and choppy. The rain has lessened to nothing but a drizzle. The thunder rumbles farther and farther in the distance.

And Baekhyun’s heartbeat gets stronger.

You close your eyes, and let exhaustion overcome you, lulled into sleep by the beat of his heart and the rocking of the boat.

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo fanfics #exo imagine #exo pirate au #baekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fanfics #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun smut #exo stories #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun stories #baekhyun pirate au

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artnerd1123 · 3 years

Text

A Familiar World

Pen Pals (pt 1) ——————————————

Just a bit of book exchange and small talk between a couple sorcerers.

The masterpost for AFW can be found here. The chapter post for AFW can be found here.

——————————————

whattup belle n @vaaloirr are back at it again with another joint chapter, ft alex n journ!!! vaal wrote the letters by alex, and i wrote the ones by journ! these were rlly fun to write, so y’all will prolly see more in the future :>

hope y’all enjoy!!!

Dear Journal

I hope you’re having a good week, over there, hope life’s treating you well. I’m here with my book recommendation, as usual. I hope you like this one. It’s an intriguing little piece called “Forgotten Shoals”, a story about a small group of people, mostly mercenaries I think, getting shipwrecked and separated on a very strange island. I was a little lost? About halfway through? The story’s kind of too vague for its own good at certain points, but overall it was pretty good. It’s in a pretty old time period, when there were still kings and stuff, so that’s pretty interesting, how they handle that. It’s only two books, but they’re long ones. They make for fun animated book nights, especially if you’re watching in a dark room. It really helps the atmosphere, so there’s that to keep in mind.

Sincerely, Alex

Dear Alex,

Thanks so much for the rec! It came at a great time, I’d just finished with the last series. I’ll be sure to let you know what I think of this one. I’ll work them into my schedule sometime. Probably at midnight. That’s the best time to read, haha. Maybe we’ll both get confused, and we can compare notes. Life’s ok over here. I finally decided to get better acquainted with my roommate. My book rec for you comes from him, actually. It’s a book of really old questor legends- maybe you’ve read it before? Sorry if you have! He called it “Legenday legacies.” There’s a whole series of them. They don’t really go in any order, but the oldest are marked first. I’ve only read a couple, but they’re really cool. It’s best to have them animated, too. My roommate said they were old oral stories that someone finally decided to write down, so the animation has some really neat extra details. This letter got a little long, haha. Hope you’re doing ok over in your town!

Signed, Journal Drapht

Dear Journal

Yeah, midnight’s the best time for a spooky book, haha. And thank you for the rec! I actually had the first book when I was a kid, but I forgot it when I left home. I would love to read it again, and to read the other books too… I’ll definitely try to snag them the next time I’m over there. I always meant to go back to them, so thanks for the reminder. And I’m glad you’re getting along with your roommate, it wouldn’t be very fun if you weren’t, haha. I couldn’t really picture myself with a roommate, me and Lucy is just fine. And I’m doing fine, though things are a little hectic over here right now. Someone says they saw a monster nearby recently, which… I’m pretty certain was just a random wolf they got spooked by? It was late. But you know. Rumors are a hard snowball to stop once they get rolling. Hopefully it’ll all get sorted out. Anyway, I’m running out of room on the paper, so I gotta call it here, haha. Have a good one.

Sincerely, Alex

Dear Alex,

Oh, nice! Hopefully the next ones are a good read. And I get leaving books at home on accident. I had to leave a bunch of mine when I left home, too. I got the important stuff! But you can’t quite replace a lifetime of books overnight, haha. At least we have libraries and book merchants, right? Roommate life isn’t for everyone. I’m glad you and Lucy are getting along well at your place. Though the rumors sound rough. It’s hard when a whole town is going off about something. Sorry you’re dealing with those. Hopefully they’ll quit when they catch whatever the critter is, haha. Could make for a town legend, right? I’ve heard plenty of those. They’re certainly something. Before I run out of paper, I actually have one somewhat unrelated question. Does Lucy ever run around the apartment at 3am for no reason? My roommate’s familiar is a cat, and he does that. I’m not sure if it’s a familiar thing or a cat thing. We didn’t have any cats in the house growing up. Hope this letter finds you well.

Signed, Journal Drapht

Dear Journal

Yeah, a lifetime of books is not the easiest thing to replace, haha. And the rumors aren’t really rough, so much as annoying. It’s a merchant town, so once monster rumors start, everybody’s gotta hold up while some people go out and find whatever it was. They’re very on edge when the topic of monsters is brought up. But hey, what can you do. Hopefully it’ll be a boring town legend at the end of the day, haha. And as far as the 3am thing, yes. All the damn time, every night. Without fail. My mom had a few cats when I was growing up, and I can confirm that it’s a cat thing. They just do that. I don’t know why, you can have the laziest cat in the world and they’ll still sprint around at full speed at 3am. It’s actually kind of hilarious. Also, if we’re gonna be trading questions, I actually had one… Your roommate is a questor, right? I was wondering if you could maybe ask for a few questor tips from him for me, if that's alright. Have a good one.

Sincerely, Alex

Dear Alex,

I mean, a legend’s a legend, right? But I do hope whatever it is doesn’t bother the townsfolk much. We used to have some problems with woodsy critters back at home. I don’t know if they’re still having issues now, but sometimes wolves can get pretty bold, haha. And that’s good to know. It is pretty funny to just hear my roommate’s familiar sprinting around outside my door at Revaew awful hours of the night. I just have to make sure he doesn’t wiggle his way into my room. He’ll go curl up on my bed to claim it and not move until 6am. Usually that’s not a problem because I stay up late, but it means I crash later during the day. Not so great when I'm in the middle of magic training, haha. I went and asked my roommate about questor tips for you. I didn’t know questors were actually a separate class of sorcerer, so that made for an interesting conversation! He told me that you should keep an eye on the questing board- you have one in town, right?- and to keep some sort of compass/map on you among your supplies. Make sure to pack a snack and water if you don’t already. If it’s a fetch quest, make sure to find the quest giver beforehand to check for any special conditions. He said a bunch of other stuff, too, but half of it sounded like he was trying to be a mother hen. The guy’s a bit of a softie. I could send you my notes with my next letter if you’d like to see all of them.

Signed, Journal Drapht

Dear Journal

Yeah, yeah… I still think it’s just a wolf. Or maybe a bear. Who knows. Honestly, I would be more shocked if people weren’t bothered by this, merchants are just such uppity people. At least the ones around here. You definitely don’t wanna crash during magic training, yeah. I remember when I was training with my uncle, when I used to live with him, I was not good at keeping myself in check at all. Most of the time not spent practicing was spent napping because I would use all my energy trying to get this one spell, and then just pass out. I was young and excited, to be fair. He got me out of that habit. And maybe you should let the little familiar claim your bed sometime, there’s probably room for both of you, haha. Y’know, the more you talk about him, the more I think he and Lucy would get along great. You didn’t know questors were another class of sorcerers? I mean, I guess the distinction isn’t exactly obvious, now that I think about it. And we do actually have a questing board! Though it’s a little bare lately. Mostly just odd jobs, not much else. Any nearby dungeons have apparently decided to be quite shy, haha. Be sure to tell your roommate that the advice is appreciated, he sounds like a nice guy. And I would love to see your notes! If you’re good with it, that is.

Sincerely, Alex

Dear Alex,

Haha, maybe I will. It’s sort of weird sleeping in a room by myself right now. I have had a lot of siblings. Maybe the company will do me some good. And maybe we can have them meet up the next time you’re in town. I’m sure my roommate would let me take his familiar out. His name is Roo. He’s a shy little guy, but the library is quiet enough that he’d do ok. Just have to find him a fairy tale book and he’s all set, haha. As for magic training, that sounds so cool! Having your uncle train you sounds so exciting. My old mentor sort of took me under her wing because I was trespassing on her woods. She’s a strict teacher, but I’m really grateful to her. She taught me a lot, and gave me an amplifier a while ago. We still exchange letters and I still try my best to stick to what she told me. Learning magic is hard work, but I’m willing to reach for it. Guy’s got a dream, you know? And, for the record, I didn’t grow up in a very magical place. I think my magic mentor was the only sorceress in the entire area of my hometown, haha. Totally different story in this town. There’s lots of sorcerers- my roommate included. He’s pretty cool. Buys me coffee and gives me training tips sometimes. Anyways, all this to say I’ve attached a copy of the notes. Sorry if the ink is a little faded. I wanted to try out a duplication spell I’ve been practicing, and I don’t know if it took all the way. Simple spells can be hard for me, but I’m working on it, haha. Hope you and Lucy are doing well.

Signed, Journal Drapht

Dear Journal

Yeah, I bet the change from “a lot of siblings” to “one roommate and his familiar” is a bit jarring. I wouldn’t really know? I was an only child. To be honest, I always wondered what having siblings was like, maybe you could tell me sometime? If that’s good with you? Maybe when we introduce Roo and Lucy to each other. Roo is such a cute name by the way, I hope the little guy knows that, haha. As far as my uncle goes, he was a very good teacher! He knew a whole lot of spells, and still tried to learn even more. He was a show sorcerer, so he knew so much neat stuff… I kinda miss him, but you know. He’s got his career, and I wanted to be a questor. At least it helped me get used to travelling a lot, haha. Your teacher sounds super cool too, like? Meeting a sorcerer in the middle of the woods and getting taken under their wing? That’s some legend stuff, man. Awesome. My town wasn’t very magical either, but it wasn’t super unmagical? There were sorcerers here and there. Not enough to really call the town magical, though. It wasn’t a hotspot, I guess is what I’m trying to say. I heard it’s become even less so since I left, but I digress. Oh! And the notes were really great by the way! Thank you so much! And don’t worry about the faded ink, I’ve read more illegible, haha. I think you did a fine job. You’ll get better with practice! I believe in you! And we’re doing fine, though Lucy is getting a bit claustrophobic. I hope you guys are doing well too.

Sincerely, Alex

Dear Alex,

I apologize in advance if my handwriting gets messy. I’ve rewritten this letter at least three times now. My hand just tends to make absolute chicken scratch if I get too excited. That being said, you mentioned your uncle being a show sorcerer? How long has he been performing? How did he start? What category is he? Are all his shows the same or does he switch it up every time? What does he travel in? Sorry for all the questions, I’ll stop myself there. Show sorcerers are sort of an interest of mine. An aspiration, if you will, haha. Hearing that you worked with one sent my mind into overdrive. That’s so cool! Maybe we could practice spells together sometime. And a legend? Maybe. My mentor tells a lot of those. Sometimes I swear she’s telling an actual story that happened to her. She never confirms, though. I don’t know how much of legend material I am yet. I have to work on my magic some more. One day, though. It’ll happen. Especially if the notes weren’t as bad as I thought, haha. It’s progress! Also, we’ve got solidarity on non magic towns, haha. Glad we’ve both got somewhere that has more pizazz. Just a couple magic guys trying to make their way in the world, ammirite? Anyways, sorry about Lucy. Maybe taking her on a walk would help? We’re doing ok over here. My roommate has been painting scenes from the books we’ve animated. It’s pretty cool. And Roo seemed to like the idea of meeting Lucy! He was a tad nervous, but that’s the norm for him. I think he’d like having another cat friend. Maybe we can get together soon? I might have some sibling stories. Depends how much I remember that day, haha.

Signed, Journal Drapht

Dear Journal

Your handwriting’s fine, don’t worry. I’ve read worse. As for all your questions, uh… since he was a teenager, I never asked, I can’t remember the categories but he does a lot of stuff with legends, dragons, and dragon legends, they have the same themes, but he has a bunch of different shows, if that makes sense, and he travels in a little caravan with his familiar and a couple of his friends. I get being excited, it’s all good. Maybe we could have a Q&A the next time we see each other, haha. And I’m sure uncle Leo would love to meet and practice magic with you, but he’s really busy nowadays, so you might have to hold that thought for a bit. He’d have to find a gap in his schedule. You really need to introduce me to your mentor eventually, she sounds awesome. And I’m sure you’ll get a legend or two for yourself one day. I mean, nobody was born the star of one, am I right? And I wouldn’t really say my current town has more “pizazz”, but it’s definitely more tolerable than my old town, I guess. Some people were very opinionated there. Especi Yeah I took her on a quick walk through town before writing this letter, actually, and she’s feeling a lot better! Sometimes she just needs a little bit of fresh air like everybody else. I bet your roommate's paintings look great, I can’t paint to save my life, haha. Lucy’s a little nervous too about the meeting too, so I guess the feeling’s mutual. Hopefully we can all get together soon!

Sincerely, Alex

#afw chapter #afw #a familiar world #my story #arty writes #friend writing #it both!#journal sherman drapht #afw ocs #alex #lucy #hehe hoho fun times >:3 #these two bring me joy...#they r... friends :>#bonding over books n cats SLKJSFL #love that for them :D

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