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frogchiro · 1 year

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I just finished the world quest with Jeht and Azariq and please I'm in love with the Stone Enchanter model. I need him to pin me down and crush me istg

If this makes you uncomfortable feel free to ignore it, but I'm imagining MC being this sheltered Rainforest scholar hiring a group of Eremites to escort her on a mission, only for the weather to turn bad and oh we all have to hunker down for an extended period of time and she's worried that the Eremites will leave once the money runs out but they're just taking the opportunity to get close to their little lady.

Alternatively, doctor!MC who is the primary medic in the camp and she's always there to take care of everyone. What do you mean that Daythunder tripped face first into her tits on purpose? Can't you see that he's hurt??? Yes he needs to squeeze her hips, it's for balance! Honestly 🙄

Alternatively alternatively, barmaid!MC who serves a certain group of Eremites and she's theirs alone. No one else touches her except them, and they love playing with her regardless of who else is looking. Groping her tits when she bends down to pour drinks, grabbing her ass when she turns around, biting her nipple through the sheer fabric of her top if she doesn't escape fast enough etc. (I feel like you wrote this before? I think)

I really just let my hands run away from me adfhk I hope you're doing well! 🌺

darling, I am so incredibly normal about this you have no idea i'm currently biting at the bars of my enclosure

also this turned out way longer than I intended but the brainrot was real for this one ;; the barmaid!reader hc turned out to be the longest and the smuttiest of them all but in my defense it was my absolute favorite one to write and I'm seriously asking begging you guys to please indulge me and send me all your possible barmaid!reader thots (different men, eremites, aus', whatever comes to your mind ;;)

fem!reader, nsfw, reader is implied to be chubby/curvy, LOTS of perviness and big gross pervy men <3

Rainforest Scholar!Reader who hired a group of Eremites because of an important study needing to be conducted near the dangerous territory of the Apam Woods which is known to be inhabited by dangerous fungi and other possibly hostile creatures, not to mention the ever-changing weather environment. For someone who has little-to-no combat training it's basically a suicide mission so you did the next best thing and hired a group of Eremite mercenaries, four big and scary looking men with weapons seemingly bigger than you, wild grins full of sharp teeth and smug voices telling you "It's gonna be okay Little Lady, we've got this".

Well, turned out no one 'got this'. Dear Gods no one got this. The whole journey ended up in a near disaster with a sudden wild storm striking the woods in the middle of studying a group of fungi not only making them hostile and attacking you but also during your and the mercenaries' escape and frantic search for a reletively safe place to wait out the storm you managed to slip and fall straight into a large puddle of water effectively drenching you and ruining your travel clothes.

Although you truly noticed this major detail only after holing up in some beat up shack left to rot in the forest when the cold finally started to seep into your bones. One of the men, Daythunder you believe others called him, pointed out your violent shivering making all the men in the group turn towards you with slight concern on their masked faces.

And indeed you were shivering like a scared puppy, wet clothes clinging at your form, combined with the howling wind making it almost unbearable and the small fire they managed to start did little to keep you warm.

"You need to get outta these clothes Little Lady or you'll catch your death here", a slightly smaller man of the group gruffly said and vaguely motioned towards your figure. You flushed slightly and looked down bashfully, 'Little Lady' they called you, a nickname meant to tease you at first but over the long days of your journey turned into some sort of endearment from the men towards you.

Your thoughts of embarrassment were quickly thrown away by another wave of unpleasant shivers due to your drenched state. You were well aware that if you didn't do something soon, you'd catch pneumonia and only gods know how long you'll be stuck here in the middle of nowhere with a raging storm outside. The only logical thing to do was to strip, let your clothes dry and get warm by the fire but you were surrounded by all these big men and while you trusted them to not make any unwanted moves, it was still a mortifying thought to be almost naked in such a small space among them.

However, even these thought were dissipated quickly enough when Daythunder gently lifted your chin with his finger, making your heart flutter with warmth and look up at his handsome masked face and listen to him quietly murmur that they'll keep you warm and make sure no danger will come for you, please Little Lady.

And so before long you were stripped down to your underwear, sitting in the warm lap of the large blond man, his beautiful tanned skin hot under your slowly warming body as his sturdy arms wrapped around you. Actually, the men surrounded you with their big bodies in a sort of cuddle pile, warming up not only your body but also your heart and lower belly, the tingling sensation only amplifying when you felt the sudden touch of warm, calloused fingers of Daythunder on your knees, slowly traveling up your thighs and massaging along the tired muscles making you let out an embarrassingly pleasured moan that caught the attention of all the other men, making them grin wildly again.

"Maybe being stuck here for a little longer won't hurt-" you thought to yourself before getting interrupted by ravenous hot lips of one of the men and letting out another pleased hum as you felt other big calloused hands join the others on your soft body.

Medic!Reader who is the resident healer of the tribe, and while it might be considered relatively small, her hands are almost always busy due to the group being made up by men who are considered to be hunters/mercenaries; always on the move, rarely setting camp for more than a week. Plus, life on the desert can't be considered an easy one, food and water rations are scarce, danger is common here and if you're inexperienced with this kind of environment or travels it's best if you just stay in a village or travel in a larger group.

And then there is little ol' you, a real delight to the men of the tribe, kept like the biggest treasure in the camp. Always cherished and spoiled with the best cuts of meat during meal time, gifted the softest and most delicate silks from their 'adventures', not to mention all the hot, reverent, hungry touches to your skin as they slowly mouth at the expanse of your naked, glistening bosom.

Oh yes, the life of the 'Treasure of the tribe' is good, very good even, but first and foremost you are a trained, skilled healer, your skills being utilized unfortunately almost everyday as your men just seem to not be able to keep out of danger if even for a day and you hate seeing your boys hurt.

After returning from yet another successful hunting trip all the returning men loudly announcing their arrival; loud, boisterous laughs and cheerful bellows can be heard from the enterance to the camp. You sighed deeply although a small smile made its way onto your face, judging from the loud joyous commotion outside it was a successful hunt and probably no permanent damage was done but it still meant looking after the men, cleaning and stitching cuts, applying cooling salves and balms and bandaging smaller wounds. While you were undoubtedly proud of your buys you swear that their pride and want for showing off will drive them into an early grave.

Making a last check-up on the stacked medical equipment you gathered, you got up and walked out into the blazing sun of the desert, although the scalding hot temperature slowly cooling down into a pleasant warmth with the incoming sunset.

Your enterance was met with loud greetings and whoops, the large men showing off their hunted prey, a large furred beast with claws the size of your fingers. While you definitely appreciated the sentiment and admired their strength and prowess in battle to be able to take down such a creature, you were more worried about the blood staining Daythunder's clothes. Making him sit on an wooden stump you quickly got to work as he seemed to be hurt the most; while definitely nowhere near deadly, that cut on his chest worried you.

Out of all the things you learned as a healer of a tribe full of men is that they're surprisingly childish and clingy, especially when hurt. The second he heavily sat down, Daythunder immediately grabbed onto your full hips and dragged you close to him so that no space can be between your bodies and with a heavy sigh the big tanned man shoved his face right into your tits, for the lack of better wording.

All you could do is sigh heavily, comb your hand through his braided blond hair and coo at him. The insistent touches more than familiar and no more embarrassing you, more like making a small pleasant flutter bloom in your belly as you gave the man a bit more time watching him nose along your barely clothed breasts and nuzzling against you much like a big cat.

What you didn't see, so preoccupied with Daythunder nuzzled deep into you, are the former joyful faces of the other men sour with ugly jealousy. Why weren't it them you were paying attention? They just slayed a beast too! But don't you worry pretty little Treasure, as soon as you finish with that big oaf they'll have their turn with you too.

Who would have guessed that Eremites could be so jealous~?

And now for the grande finale and my personal favorite, Barmaid!Reader!! Working as a barmaid at the only tavern in Caravan Ribat is one hell of a busy job. Living and working in a place that is literally in the middle of nowhere and simultaneously always busy with passing by merchants, mercenaries, travelers and adventurers alike can be definitely often hectic and at times even messy but it has its perks! Being able to listen to various stories, some of them sounding almost like a fairytale with how whimsical and fantastic they sound and yet they are all true is definitely one of those perks.

Another perk (definitely the best) is a particular group of Eremite men who seem to frequent Caravan Ribat, specifically the tavern you work at is their target. Not only being regulars, but also knowing them more...intimately, they are a delight to be around even with their burning jealousy and possessiveness; perhaps even more so with it.

Almost always you hear them before you see them, their loud talk among each other, deep booming voices almost reverberating through the local and just as you serve a patron their meal they enter in all their glory. Even with the crimson bandanas covering their eyes you can feel their eyes on you, burning with lust and want for their pretty little barmaid.

Greeting them with a warm smile and a warmth to your cheeks you tell them to sit down at their usual table (which by now is almost reserved only for them, no one dares to sit where they always touch down). Luckily it's a relatively slow night; all the patrons are already seated and busy either talking among each other or drinking their worries away in a bottle of ale of fire water.

With an almost jump in your step you quickly walk up to the table with the Eremites, their covered eyes never leaving your curvy figure and when you finally stand before them you can almost hear their deep growls of delight and ravenous apetite for more than a regular meal.

Deciding on being cheeky today and wanting to tease them a little, treat them as if their just another regular customers. You pull out a small paper and pencil from behind your belt and ask these 'gentlemen' for their order. They seem to catch on immediately, their grins widening, licking over their sharp canines as they relax and spread their thick muscled thighs wide open lounging around, deep gruff voices laced with lust listing of their order.

As you're diligently jot down their choices on the slip of paper, a small smile appears on your face as you feel the strong arm of Stone Enchanter slip around your middle and pull you closer to him, his enormous build making your stomach on level with his face even when he's seated, his big and rough with callouses hand caressing and grabbing onto your full hips, snapping the material of your skirt (the long material obscuring only your intimates and ass while exposing your thighs, you know this cut drives them crazy) against your hips and they laugh loudly as you take in a quick quiet breath, followed by the gentle scrape of teeth on your waist as the large man starts mouthing at your skin and to be honest you're quite embarrassed by how quickly this simple touch can get you wet.

But with this group you're so used to this that when they don't visit for a longer period of time you actually long for it. They are always like this; loud and boisterous, clingy, unapologetic and absolutely shameless with their touches and so so possessive over you.

You barely manage to write down their order with a small 'be right back sirs' when suddenly a swift swat to your bottom is delivered and the table erupts in laughs and jeers at Sunfrost that he managed to get you. It's even worse when you get back and start setting their cups down, when the hot touches and gropes come.

Your low cut top is made of a light material, almost sheer and you almost always forgo wearing a bra due to the almost unbearable heat due to the closeness to the desert and the stuffy inside of the tavern doesn't help, and you can be sure that these men take full advantage of it.

Large scarred hands grope your tits the second you bend down to pour their drinks and you almost spill it when they pull down the loose neckline and the mouthing at your waist and hips starts again.

Suddenly, you let out a small shrill cry as you're suddenly hoisted into the lap of Stone Enchanter and moan loudly at the feeling of hot lips trying to mouth at your nipples through your top, the straps falling from your shoulders from all the sudden movement much to the delight of the men at the table.

The loud atmosphere of the lively tavern concealing the lustful act, all the other patrons are either so deep into laughing with their companions or way too drunk to even look your way, but even if there are some curious eyes looking at your figure, you are way too deep into the hot, fuzzy headspace to care.

The dark skinned man holding you made you suddenly straddle him and you flush even deeper at the feeling of his hard cock grinding up against your barely clothed pussy and you can't help but moan helplessly and grab at his dark braids to pull him closer to your nipple which he's still insistently mouthing at, the scrape of his sharp teeth causing you to let out a delightful moan which only seemed to spur the turned on men further on.

This was definitely going to be a long, long night~

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #JESUS FINALLY I'M READY #this took me like 2.5h to write but it was a true delight ;;#thank you so much for the food nonnie <3 #now barmaid reader is rotting my brain >:(#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #eremites x reader

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lvndrblue · 10 months

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gepard as your boyfriend: a headcanon list

author’s note: This is the only white man I'd let ruin my life any day; he's been doing exactly that by evading my thoughts and causing a horrible, horrible brainrot, so - I'm sharing said thoughts with the people. (Two things: English is not my first language, and I write for fun. As such, you may notice grammatical errors as you go through this list. I do want to become better at writing, so please, feel free to leave constructive (not mean) feedback!)

contains: gepard x gn reader, fluff, domestic fluff, drunk confessions, friends to lovers is implied, established relationship, gepard is a big softie, PG-13, slight, very tame sexual references

word count: 1,7k words Right, let's get on with it. Gepard as your boyfriend. Alternately: Gepard's drunk habits. (Because I'm a sucker for clingy drunk tropes)

Everyone, and I mean everyone knows just how easily Gepard blushes. You make it a whole lot easier for him, though.

At this point, he knows how to control his expressions enough that his cheeks only turn a slight pink tint, but the definite way to get him a shade of crimson is to touch the back of his neck.

He's particularly sensitive where his neck meets his back, and you love taking advantage of this weakness to tease him.

He hates it (he doesn't) when you do it in public, but at home, he'll ask you to be rubbed on the back of his neck, his shoulders, his back. He loves being rubbed by you in general, but soft touches down his back just does melts him into a puddle.

There's a reason why he keeps his hair on the longer side, despite being a military man. The reason being, well, obviously, you. Before you even started dating, you casually mentioned your preference for longer hair. He hasn't cut his hair anywhere close to his scalp since.

Another reason is because he likes the feel of your fingers through them. Some days he will come to you and wordlessly sit between your legs, and you'll know that he wants you to braid his hair. He almost always ends up falling asleep on your thighs at the end of a session.

Gepard likes being between your legs (in more ways than one) but he loves hugging you. On the nights when you go to sleep together, you'll find yourself tightly wrapped in his arms, which is single-handedly the most comforting position you can find yourself in - especially in Belobogian winter.

When you're facing away, he'll bury his face in your hair, mumbling sweet nothings and pressing soft kisses. When you're facing him, he'll still mumble those sweet nothings, just this time you get to hear his strong, steady heartbeat as you press onto his chest. It jumps a little when you draw on his back.

Being his size, small-spooning isn't easy, but he manages to do it anyway. Whether he is facing away or towards you, he will always manage to reach over to run his hands over your hips. (Also, shout out to everyone with hip-dips. Trust that he will absolutely eat you, hip-dips and all. Gepard will fit his hand on your dips if it's the last thing he does. He is most definitely a munch, but that's for a separate post.)

Gepard is clingy. He's touchy. He likes to touch and to be touched. Even in professional settings he'll find a way to still be touching you. Pinkies linking, knees touching under the table, taps on the small of your back. Of course, he'll leave you alone when you don't feel as touchy, but he will touch you when and where he can, even if it kills him.

It gets worse, however, when he's drunk. You didn't think it possible, but it is. This is, after all, the man who insists to be small spooned when he's easily one of the biggest people in the entirety of Belobog. He challenges the impossible.

For that reason, he only gets and will get drunk around you, Serval, and eventually, Lynx, when she's older one day. His tolerance isn't bad per se, if anything it's higher than average. Nevertheless it's not high enough for him to be a strong drinker.

He's not a violent, or angry, or even sad drinker. This does not, however, stop him from crying over you every time he gets batshit wasted.

There are several steps drunken Gepard has to go through before he gets to becoming a wet, weeping mess, however. First, he becomes the cheesiest, least serious version of himself. He will be saying all the corny pick-up lines he usually has an aversion to. "Hey," he had whispered one night. "Feel my shirt, it's new." You were confused, but you knew better than to question his alcohol influenced actions. You cautiously touched his sleeve, causing him to giggle. "Know what it's made of?" He asks, snickering like he holds the secrets of the universe. "Boyfriend material." And you laugh, from the absurdity of it all, and he laughs with you, but not before attempting to wink at you.

(He fails. Horribly. You still laugh endearingly at his efforts.)

Second, he will turn into a koala, with you as his tree, when the alcohol gets to him. He will pull you onto his lap and cling to you, holding you close in his arms, like he can't get close enough to you, even though this is as close as humanly possible, rendering you essentially immobile for the rest of the night.

Then comes the crying. It's not immediate, it's gradual, slowly rising until his emotions peak and the waterworks start.

At first, he'll finally stand up after a whole night of sitting with you on him. He'll stand, but he won't stop holding you. This is when the music usually comes in and you begin to slow dance in the living room, his arms around your body, his head on your shoulder, his slow breaths tickling your neck. You still haven't figured out where the song comes from, but you don't really want to find out.

As the song ends, he'll turn you towards him, pressing his forehead onto yours. He'll whisper your name, over and over again like a chant, like he can't believe you're there in that moment with him. You'll hum in response, because you know he doesn't really have anything to say.

Not yet, at least.

After the dance arrives the tears, but only after you're saddled on top of him while he gently holds your waist like you'll break if he was to grip any harder. He also refuses to let go, however, like you'd disappear if he wasn't touching you at all times. This is when his bright blue eyes begin to mist up. This is also when you come close to combustion.

If you were close to combustion before, the look in his eyes definitely doesn't pull you away from it. The way his teary eyes look up at you with such adoration and admiration and devotion... Textbook example of puppy eyes. If internal combustion was a possibility for the human body, you'd cease to exist a long time ago. Dating Gepard is so not for the weak. Not because he treats you badly. Far from it. He treats you with too much love, if that was a thing.

You don't get to wallow in your sentiments for long, though, because this is when Gepard usually starts to verbally express himself. "I love you," he would always say, eyes locked on yours the entire time. "I love you too," you'd say in return. "Mmm no, 'm sure I love you more," he mumbled on one night you particularly remember. "Y'know why?"

"Why?" You had asked then. "'Cause. M'chest hurts when thinkin' of you. It..." He trailed off, looking for the right word. "It... aches." He decides, finally. "Not inna bad way or anythin', just. 'M so in love with you. 'M so lucky to have you. You're so, so tiny," he sobbed, "so you fit right'n my arms, but..." he trailed off again, pulling you closer.

"But the way y'make me feel is just so, so, big. How can such a small person make me feel so much, hm?" You were tempted to cry with him then. How could you not? These are words you never thought anyone would ever think, much less say to you. But you didn't, and you try your best to hold it in, and you wipe the tears away from his flushed cheeks instead. "M'heart can't contain it anymore. It hurts to feel so much all th'time but I donwannit any other way."

"I'm sorry." You had said then, "and thank you, for loving me so much, Gepard. I don't know if anything I say will ever trump what you just said, but I love you. So, so, much." He smiled and pulled you closer, and closer, and closer, until the space between your lips and his was nonexistent. Despite the tears still on his lashes, Gepard smiled into the kiss, making you smile, until you both turned into giggly, teary-eyed messes.

You don't remember what happened next, but you do remember waking up the next morning feeling warm and content, Gepard's hand on the small of your back.

During breakfast, you recalled Gepard's own words to himself. He's only gotten shitfaced once after that, and that night, too, ended up eventful. Though you woke up tangled in sheets in a completely different way.

Incidentally, this was how he confessed to you in the first place. Slurring his words, he had said, and you remember this precisely, "'M always so nervous around you, did'ja know that?"

You asked him why. "Yer' just." He let out a long sigh. "Sooooo pretty'n cool'n smart'n kind'n... did I say pretty?" You laughed at him then, sure that he was pulling words out of his ass. "Point bein', yer too amazin' you make me nervous jus' bein' around you."

You got him to bed after, not thinking much about his words, but he showed up at your door the next morning, bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. "About what I said last night, I'm sorry, but I meant what I said."

Long story short, you became a thing that day, credits to alcohol and apparently, Serval, who convinced Gepard to follow up on his drunken words. You moved in with him not long after that.

This is not to say his affection only comes out when he's drunk. He's shy, but he is affectionate by nature. He sticks notes for you everywhere around the house.

"Made you chicken soup for breakfast. See you after work! I love you :)"

"Picked up that book you were looking for last week. I love you :)"

"Do you want to get dinner with me later? Check for yes, cross for no. P.S. dress nicely! I love you, see you later :)"

He's not spectacular with his words when sober, but he makes sure you know he loves you in other ways. The notes are one thing, but his undivided attention during your silly little rants about topics that you know don't really interest him is how he really makes you feel adored.

That's all I have for now, folks. Consider supporting me through my Ko-fi if you enjoyed this and want to see more! Thank you for reading and joining me on this journey of thinking about Gepard <3

#honkai star rail #honkai gepard #gepard landau #hsr gepard #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr headcanons #headcanon #hsr fluff #hsr fanfic #fluff #writing #hoyoverse

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viluvr-archived · 2 years

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may I request headcanons for rook, lilia, jade and ruggie falling in love like the process?

PROCESS OF FALLING IN LOVE !

Lilia , Jade , Rook , Azul .

Gn!reader, they're all whipped .

( a/n — the only warning here is wholesomeness, anon I'm sorry I took off ruggie </3 I'm not the best at writing him and Lilia . I ADDED AZUL ANON I'M SORRY MY BRAINROT CAN'T TAKE IT. )

ROOK !

You must be one interesting being and of course a patient one, with Rook's behavior being like that someone would get fed up for sure.

"Y/n, dearest! I've been looking everywhere for you, it's been forever since we've seen each other!" "It has been 5 minutes since I've successfully escaped you."

Rook needs someone true to themselves and vocal about their feelings and passion, he's devoted to them as a whole with their life even more if they're like that.

Rook starts off by fixing your hair, brushing it, or pushing a strand back when it gets on your face, then he'd be more affectionate, then the poems start, the love letters, hell even songs!

He dedicates more time on you and takes the time to learn something new that he thinks is romantic for you. "My dear Y/n, I've come to serenade you with a song I wrote for you, I've poured my heart and soul into this song, I hope you'd like it." And then he's serenading to you at like 1 am.

Once Vil hears it and notices his vice house warden missing he's already going to Ramshackle, he knows Rook often visits there already, and by the time the Pomefiore Housewarden spots him, he's dragging him off by the collar and apologizing to you that Rook has ruined your night.

He takes you out on a date, and the date is practically him teaching you how to do archery. He hunts bunnies and he gives one of them to you, if perhaps he confesses, he leaves the bunny on your doorstep and the collar has a letter attached to it, (the collar is imprinted with an I love you.)

He gets all fuzzy and excited when someone mentions your name, he doesn't even bother hiding that he likes you. Mr. Hunt is shameless.

LILIA !

He needs someone fun! Probably younger than him to introduce him to what's new these days, to get him to be lively and carefree.

"Sweetheart, deary, y/n, I've brought you these ancient fae accessories. I hope you like it! It's very rare to find those these days." He's a gift-giver to people he treasures, but when he falls for someone he practically melts into a puddle.

"Say aaah, good! Now how does that taste? Good, right?" He needs someone to take care of, and he also needs someone to take care of him, Lilia is used to being the one taking care of someone, it's surely a new feeling but he loves it. (He loves it with you)

We all know Lilia's not very talented at ... cooking. So whenever he asks you to taste test the food he made, Cue Silver rushes to you and takes away the old man's food, and Malleus tells him to stop cooking.

"You youngsters! You're lucky I'm cooking for you, yet you don't like it! It's not even bad!" "...not bad, huh" he's so convinced it's not bad that he ate it and nothing happened to him..

Maybe it's the fact that Lilia wasn't able to love someone before, because of his duties. That made him long for someone to love and for someone to love him, he also needs someone else to protect, no?

JADE !

Jade.. it's hard to picture him in a relationship, tho I see him wanting someone who's like him, who can keep up with him. Someone who can tolerate childish behavior and tames them (he finds it attractive) he loves a strong person who can protect themselves.

He loves being domestic, so expect tiny bits of help and some notes for you to take care of yourself. He's interested in what humans do, and one day Cater tells him it's cute to make someone a Playlist, I think he gets reminded of you when the song kay Ganda mo by Frank Ely or Sayo by Silent sanctuary, Hele by Zild plays (it's a filo song^^) also my kind of woman.

Jade looks at you in the eye, so intently, studying you like it's the most complicated subject ever. You have his heart, and he hates how he gets weak in the knees whenever he sees you, he gets so fuzzy and his attitude changes slowly.

He stares at you with literal heart eyes, while nodding at every sentence/word you say.

+he confesses with a Playlist.

AZUL !

In denial, whipped, has big heart eyes and dreamy sigh whenever you're mentioned.

Coughs to hide his blush. He makes you sign contracts that make you spend more time with him like working at Mostro Lounge just to look at you, even the way you move is so graceful for him. Floyd calls him out and says he's salivating but he's just over exaggerating!

When Azul finally is sure he likes, wait no, loves you! He's already planning how to take you out, talk to you, how to propose.. wait, no! Don't think of that yet. You've yet a relationship to establish.

Maybe some cuddles and cheek/nose kisses as payments when you eat at mostro lounge. I see him and the tweels being like those elementary school girls who says "hey can you push me to my crush so he'd catch me." That. Except sometimes Azul doesn't say that often because of his shyness, then Floyd pushes him, (too hard than he expected.) He listens to Mr. Kupido probably.. and crush (filo song >:)) and bubble gum by Clairo.

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acatalystrising · 2 years

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The Arcane brainrot is BAD so I started dabbling in fan fiction. This is my first concept, and if it’s worth it, I’ll post chapter 2! So without further ado, I present the first chapter of The Eyes of Fate! Thanks to @claimtheskies for being my lovely beta reader!!

Summary: Aria’s life is turned upside down when tragedy strikes, inadvertently guiding her into the path of the most dangerous man of the undercity…Silco, the Eye of Zaun.

TW: violence, mentions of physical abuse, deaths, injuries.

(I will state that this is a non-romantic story, timeline-wise this takes place in arc 1, after Sevica aligns with Silco, but before the events of Ep. 3.)

The Eyes of Fate, CH 1:

The alley was dark, but Aria saw them before her parents did; thugs with eyes full of malice and greed. Already she was regretting her father’s decision to take a shortcut home. They wouldn’t be in this position to begin with if he hadn’t made so many enemies gambling and drinking away all they had. But she hadn’t voiced her concern, all too aware it could earn her another beating. Alarm twisted down her throat, clenching her heart in a vise-like grip. This wasn’t right, something was wrong.

Despite her fear of getting in trouble, she had to say something. She tugged her mother’s arm, lips parting to shout a warning, but it was too late.

The three men struck without mercy.

Her father put up a fight, fists balled as he yelled for the men to back down. They didn’t listen. One of the attackers struck her father’s head with a metal bat, and he dropped to the ground without a cry. The assailant rifled through his pockets, quickly grabbing his money…what little they had. Panic sized Aria in its grip, and she screamed as her hand was torn from her mother’s.

She watched, helpless, as the men pulled her mother away, blood streaming down her nose. Her eyes locked with her daughter’s, lips parting with a final cry.

“Aria, run!”

A fist connected with her mother’s cheek, and Aria watched as she was thrown to the ground, her forehead striking the corner of the sidewalk. Crimson blossomed in the stagnant water, and she took a hesitant step back, terror clawing at her throat. Her boot sank into a puddle, causing a loud splash.

The three men looked up, as if suddenly realizing she was there. The tallest one pointed at her, jerking his chin as an order. The two nodded, walking toward her with dark glares, and so, Aria listened to her mother for once.

She ran.

Shouts echoed on the brick walls as the attackers chased after her. Breath snagging in her throat, Aria twisted down an adjacent alley and ran as fast as she could, ducking and diving through the refuse and obstacles in her way. She was only thirteen, but she knew these streets, perhaps better than they did.

But panic was a vicious enemy.

Tears blurred her eyes, streaming freely down her cheeks as she fled. One wrong turn led to another, and she quickly realized she wasn’t where she thought she was. Or where she wanted to be. Fear struck her in waves when the scent of brackish saltwater and sewage wafted past her nose, but she pressed on, her assailants still close behind. She couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop. Even though she knew she’d have nowhere to go. Her parents were likely dead…no, not likely. Definitely. Despite their flaws, and her father’s awful temper, and the bruises still fresh on her arms from his outbursts, the acidic tang of loss welled in her throat. But she kept running.

She spun around a corner, and her heart sank low. A dock awaited her, the end a high wooden planked wall meant to shield the waterlogged structures from the waves that raged during storms. A massive building towered above, shattered glass windows glinting in the moonlight, resembling a million eyes watching her every move. Chills skittered down her spine. Something was wrong, terribly wrong about it all.

Her legs locked her in place, but angry shouts behind her sprung her back into action. She bolted down the pier, footsteps thumping on rotting wood. She had to try, maybe there was another path behind the building…

A hand gripped her shoulder, yanking her backward. She screamed, swinging a hand at her attacker. The man gripped her arm and swung, his fist slamming right into her left eye. He released her, and she stumbled backward, her shoulders slamming into the unforgiving wooden wall. Her vision blurred, pain arcing through her skull, and she struggled to remain on her feet, heart hammering loudly in her ears.

“Thought you’d give us the slip, huh?” His voice was dripping with irritation as he approached, bearded face twisted into a scowl. “Well, yer wrong.”

Eye tearing up from the punch, she slid along the wall, looking for any way out. More walls met her gaze, tall and unforgiving. She looked back at the man, and saw that four more now stood with him, brandishing knives.

“Sorry kid, but you’re a witness. Can’t have those running amok.” The man approached, hulking form towering over her, blade gleaming on the moonlight.

Aria felt her blood turn turned ice as the man lunged. She twisted out of the way, trying to run back the way she’d come. Perhaps she could slip through them, if only…

The man grabbed her hair, pulling her backward. She twisted and bit his arm, kicking at his groin. He cursed, the knife flashed…

Pain arced across the left side of her face, hot blood pouring into her already injured eyebrow from the open wound. Shaking, a whimper emitting from her chapped lips, she staggered backward, legs buckling as she was once again backed to the wall. She dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face. She pressed her left hand over her eye, blood already pooling around her fingers.

Thunder rumbled above, and her attacker approached, bloody knife held ready in his hand.

“No more trouble, now, and I’ll let you die quickly.”

He stood above her, raising his blade…

And then a deep, smooth voice made the man freeze in his tracks.

“Well, well, what have we here?”

The man slowly turned, knife dropping just a tad. His body blocked Aria’s view, but she heard footsteps as someone new approached. The men didn’t utter a word. Fear permeated the air.

“Ahhh, Clagger. It’s been a minute since you’ve crawled from your hole.” The voice was slick, cutting, clearly in control. “What brings you here? And so late at night…”

“Silco…Sir, I was just cleaning up a mess.” Her attacker’s cocky tone was gone, replaced with barely concealed dread. “The brat would have gotten away.”

Silco? She’s heard that name before. One only spoken of in whispers. A name her parents, even her father in his gambling ways, had known to fear. Terror unlike anything she’d ever felt seized her heart.

“Oh?” The voice lilted slightly, as if something was funny. She shivered. “And what petty messes of yours involve children?”

“She’s a thief, sir.” The man sheathed his knife with quivering fingers, voice nearly shaking. “She stole from us.”

Horror flooded through Aria, followed by rage. He was blaming her? Panic and terror kept her lips locked, but she stammered, fresh tears pouring down her cheeks.

“Is that so?” The voice grew louder, nearly a purr over the thunder. “Well, in that case, let me see this…thief.”

The one called Clagger hastily stepped aside.

Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating the man who approached. He was a figure from her nightmares. Tall, thin, one icy blue eye cutting through her soul, the other - a hellish burning red, searing her to ash then and there. The left side of his face was pitted with horrific scars that jutted upward like claw marks. He wore his dark hair trimmed to an undercut, slicked back, coat collar high and imposing.

Silco, the notorious crime lord spoken of in terrified whispers, in the flesh like a nightmare made real. He stood above her, trench coat billowing in the howling wind, a disdainful expression chilling her blood to ice.

“Well, child…” a scarred eyebrow lifted. His voice rumbled through her, and she shivered. “Show me what you stole.”

“I…” she swallowed, shaking her head, forcing her words through frozen lips. “I didn’t…I didn’t steal anything. They robbed us…”

“Ahh, feeble excuses borne from a young mind.” His brows lowered, an edge forming to his voice. Her last warning. “I won’t ask again. What did you take from these men?”

Breaths coming ragged and uneven, she lowered her hand from her injured eye to stick her hands in her pockets. She turned them inside out, then pulling her hands free, showing him they were empty. She looked up, forcing herself to meet his gaze. Hating that tears welled in her eyes.

“I don’t have…anything. Go to the Lanes. Find my parent’s bodies on the street.” She sniffed, wincing as the cold wind sliced into her open wound. “They attacked us. I swear.”

Silco’s good eye narrowed, but she could have sworn she glimpsed the briefest flash of pity and rage, quickly withheld. Something she definitely had not expected from someone with his reputation.

Without warning, he knelt so he was eye-level with her, something altogether soft in his mis-matched gaze. When he spoke, his voice hummed with barely concealed fury.

“Who did this to you?”

She blinked, shock rippling through her. She winced, touching her split eyebrow and looking at him in question. He nodded, and for some reason, she didn’t hesitate. She spoke lowly, terrified that the man would hear and hurt her again.

“He did…Clagger.”

Silco nodded, the movement quick and cutting. He stood, and a tall, powerful looking woman approached him, looking down at her with a raised brow.

“What’ll it be, boss?”

Silco stood directly in front of her and turned to face her attacker. The man hesitantly watched, clearly unaware of their exchange. Heart hammering in her chest, Aria watched the events unfold, wondering if she even had a chance of surviving this.

“You know, there’s something that I don’t understand.” Silco didn’t step away from her, yet his voice had taken a far more sinister tone. “Honesty is something I take very seriously despite our line of work. I also despise liars…”

Chills ran down her spine renewed. Did he still not believe her? He was going to kill her….

“Silco, I’m not…”

A gunshot echoed over the pier, cutting his words off short. Aria closed her eyes, expecting to feel the pain blossom in her chest…

A loud thump broke through her panic, and she slowly opened her eyes to see Clagger laying on the deck, facing away from her. Blood was already pooling around his body. His men cursed, turning tail and running away without another word. The head of the snake had been severed. Silence fell on the pier, save for the flashing lighting and rumbling thunder.

Aria’s eye stung, and she covered it over with her hand again, sniffing, shaking in terror as Silco turned to face her, gun still smoking. Those cutting eyes locked on her, expression blank and unreadable. The woman stood behind him, waiting for a command. All was silent and empty on the pier save for the three of them.

Clagger’s body continued to bleed on the planks.

Surely Silco would end her too. She’d just witnessed him kill someone, and was somewhere she most definitely wasn’t supposed to be…

She flinched as Silco lowered the gun, but instead of firing, he holstered the weapon with a snap. He knelt again, and she couldn’t help but try to scoot away. The wall blocked any chance of escape; solid and formidable behind her, but nowhere near as formidable as the person before her. Would he torture her? Throw her to the sharks?

When he spoke, confusion flooded through her in waves.

“They won’t hurt you now.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft, making her pause. “Your parents…they’re truly gone?”

She merely nodded, terror still locking over her throat like a hand’s grip. He sighed, lifting a hand and slicking back a hair that had fallen out of place.

“I’m…sorry child. This world is unkind. But you can rise stronger.” She looked up at him in confusion, and the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his scarred lip. “You’ve been brave, to go through so much. I’ve been meaning to deal with that menace for a while now. You have my thanks.”

She mutely nodded, watching as he went to stand.

The sudden pang of loss struck her, as well as a terrible realization. She was now an orphan, destined to a life on the streets. She knew she wouldn’t last long. Even if Silco spared her life, she was already marked for death. Those men wouldn’t forget her, and the chances of them waiting to mug her as soon as she left the pier were high. More tears pricked her eyes as he stood above her in silence.

“Well, child…” Silco held down a hand, the rain beginning to fall in waves, cascading down his fingers. “Perhaps you should come with me.”

“Me?” Aria took a shuddering breath, frozen in place. Still untrusting. Still expecting a trap. “Why?”

“I too once lost everything.” He gestured at his scarred left eye with his free hand. Something altogether passionate flared in his gaze. “The children of Zaun deserve more. Much more. And we can show them.”

Aria nodded, feeling tears streaming down her cheeks as she reached up and took his hand in hers.

#arcane fanfic #silco fanfic #arcane silco #silco #silco x oc

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