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thefisherqueen · 6 months

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I'm reading Letters from Watson's The three Garridebs as a bedtime story tonight. First things first - what even is this title?? *some research later* Oh, Garridebs is a last name, apparently. Wouldn't have guessed that. Yet another story title I will never be able to remember

It may have been a comedy, or it may have been a tragedy. It cost one man his reason, it cost me a blood-letting, and it cost yet another man the penalties of the law. I'm intrigued. They surely didn't still do blood-letting in the early 20th century? Or does this mean that Watson gets wounded in this case

I remember the date very well, for it was in the same month that Holmes refused a knighthood for services which may perhaps some day be described. I'm having a bit of trouble telling apart when Holmes wants attention and when he does not. He seems to thrive upon Watson's attention, and to immensely enjoy the attention he receives by acting Dramatic(TM), yet public praise or fame is to be avoided?

I only refer to the matter in passing, for in my position of partner and confidant I am obliged to be particularly careful to avoid any indiscretion. Partner, confidant, collegue, companion, intimate friend. In other words, 'you are so important to me'

Holmes had spent several days in bed, as was his habit from time to time It's been years since I spent an entire day in bed. I wonder if that means that I'm doing better, or if I'm just not allowing myself enough time to rest and recover from Life

"Have you ever heard the name of Garrideb?" I admitted that I had not. Same, Watson, same

"Why do you say that, Mr. Holmes?" I seemed to read sudden suspicion in those expressive eyes. "Your whole outfit is English." Mr. Garrideb forced a laugh. "I've read of your tricks, Mr. Holmes, but I never thought I would be the subject of them." Oh my. This man does not like to be deduced. I have a feeling he's going to be difficult

"Why did he ever drag you into it at all?" asked our visitor, with a sudden outflame of anger. "What in thunder had you to do with it? Here was a bit of professional business between two gentlemen, and one of them must needs call in a detective! Ah, here we have our trouble. I hope Holmes politely yet ruthlessly will tell him to shut it and keep his calm

"And now, sir, since you are here, we had best have a clear account from your own lips. My friend here knows nothing of the details." Mr. Garrideb surveyed me with not too friendly a gaze. "Need he know?" he asked. Not even an actual king could pry these two apart, sir, you better not even try. They come Together

He made his money in real estate, and afterwards in the wheat pit at Chicago wheat pit: a market or exchange where wheat stocks are bought and sold (merriam-webster dictionairy)

one day I had a visit from the old man, and he was tickled to death to meet another man with his own name 'tickled to death' is one of the many amazing expressions I'm going to incorportate into my vocabulairy

I told him I was a busy man and could not spend my life hiking round the world in search of Garridebs. 'None the less,' said he, 'that is just what you will do if things pan out as I planned them.' I thought he was joking, but there was a powerful lot of meaning in the words, as I was soon to discover. "For he died within a year of saying them, and he left a will behind him. It was the queerest will that has ever been filed in the State of Kansas. His property was divided into three parts, and I was to have one on condition that I found two Garridebs who would share the remainder. I... wow. That is some typical rich guy bullshit. I wonder if a third one exists at all?

"I am wondering, Watson—just wondering!" "At what?" Holmes took his pipe from his lips. "I was wondering, Watson, what on earth could be the object of this man in telling us such a rigmarole of lies. I nearly asked him so—for there are times when a brutal frontal attack is the best policy—but I judged it better to let him think he had fooled us. Well. That does changes things. I'm joining Holmes now in wondering what that unpleasant american is up to

It was twilight of a lovely spring evening, and even Little Ryder Street, one of the smaller offshoots from the Edgware Road, within a stone-cast of old Tyburn Tree of evil memory, looked golden and wonderful in the slanting rays of the setting sun. I think I read about this place. An execution site, if I remember it correctly. *googles* Yes, it was a gallows. From marble-arch.londen:

It is impossible to know exactly what form the original took as there are so few written reports. In fact, during their first hundred years from 1177 to 1273, only eight single executions were deemed interesting enough to make note of.

But we do know that in 1571 a permanent triangular frame was erected – a mammoth structure that could, and sometimes did, hang up to 24 people at a time. The Tyburn Tree was of such renown it is even mentioned in Shakespeare’s Love’s Labour’s Lost: “Thou mak’st the triumviry, the corner-cap of society, The shape of Love’s Tyburn, that hangs up simplicity.”

Many met their end here. Records from the 1570s alone report that 704 felons were sentenced to be hanged there throughout the decade, for crimes ranging from murder to stealing cattle. Finally taken down in 1759 (presumably due to wear and tear), the structure was eventually replaced by a gallows that could be easily erected and dismantled each time. A gruesome early iteration of the London ‘pop-up’.

The last execution upon the tree was that of robber John Austin in 1783. The new place of execution became Newgate Prison. Today, a circular plaque embedded into the pavement on a traffic island at the entry to Edgware Road marks the spot of the Tyburn Tree

The house had a common stair, and there were a number of names painted in the hall some indicating offices and some private chambers. It was not a collection of residential flats, but rather the abode of Bohemian bachelors. Didn't bohemian bachelors have some queer connotations? Sometimes I read so much I get it all confused. Damn, if I'm distracted by research all the time I'm not going to finish this letter before bedtime. Still going to do that *10 minutes later* I can't find much at the moment, save the definition in the Urban dictionairy, which I'm def not going to type here. Anyone who knows more?

The room was as curious as its occupant. It looked like a small museum. It was both broad and deep, with cupboards and cabinets all round, crowded with specimens, geological and anatomical. Cases of butterflies and moths flanked each side of the entrance. A large table in the centre was littered with all sorts of debris, while the tall brass tube of a powerful microscope bristled up amongst them. As I glanced round I was surprised at the universality of the man's interests. Holmes will love this place

But you are a Britisher with solid references, and he is bound to take notice of what you say. I would go with you if you wished, but I have a very busy day to-morrow, and I could always follow you if you are in any trouble." The American fellow is unavailable for the very thing he claims to have come to England for? Sounds like an elaborate ploy to get this mr. Nathan out of the way for a while. Little clue as to why yet. I assume he wants something that the man has?

“I wish I could look over your collection, Mr. Garrideb,” said he. “In my profession all sorts of odd knowledge comes useful, and this room of yours is a storehouse of it.” Our client shone with pleasure and his eyes gleamed from behind his big glasses. “I had always heard, sir, that you were a very intelligent man,” said he. “I could take you round now if you have the time.” “Unfortunately, I have not. But these specimens are so well labelled and classified that they hardly need your personal explanation. If I should be able to look in to-morrow, I presume that there would be no objection to my glancing over them?” Holmes def has his suspicions and is not leaving the collection unguarded. Excited to learn how this will turn out

By the way, who is your house-agent?” Our client was amazed at the sudden question. “Holloway and Steele, in the Edgware Road. But why?” I should go to sleep. I was convinced this was the adress of the American, but instead Watson just mentioned that street as he and Holmes walked past

“This is a more serious matter than I had expected, Watson,” said he. “It is fair to tell you so, though I know it will only be an additional reason to you for running your head into danger. I should know my Watson by now. Holmes has finally accepted that Watson would never let him go into danger alone. This is so cute

I have identified Mr. John Garrideb, Counsellor at Law. He is none other than ‘Killer’ Evans, of sinister and murderous reputation.” “I fear I am none the wiser.” “Ah, it is not part of your profession to carry about a portable Newgate Calendar in your memory. Plot twist! Also, how funny it is of Holmes to acknowledge that it is not really Normal to memorize entire lists of prisoners

I'll give you an hour for a siesta, Watson, and then I think it will be time for our Ryder Street adventure.” Since when does Watson get to have siesta's? I'm jealous

So these two are stuck behind a cupboard instead of a curtain this time. Fun times!

Then my friend's wiry arms were round me, and he was leading me to a chair. “You're not hurt, Watson? For God's sake, say that you are not hurt!” It was worth a wound—it was worth many wounds—to know the depth of loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. For the one and only time I caught a glimpse of a great heart as well as of a great brain. All my years of humble but single-minded service culminated in that moment of revelation. “It's nothing, Holmes. It's a mere scratch.” He had ripped up my trousers with his pocket-knife. “You are right,” he cried with an immense sigh of relief. “It is quite superficial.” His face set like flint as he glared at our prisoner, who was sitting up with a dazed face. “By the Lord, it is as well for you. If you had killed Watson, you would not have got out of this room alive. Ok not so fun times. Although Watson seems 100% fine with it. I've seen this scene quoted several times already, but didn't know it was from this case. This is some quality hurt/comfort. It has blood, desperation, removed clothing, and an excellent threat as the cherry on top. Brilliant

those bundles on the table are two thousand of Prescott's notes worth a hundred each and fit to pass anywhere. Help yourselves, gentlemen. Call it a deal and let me beat it.” Holmes laughed. “We don't do things like that, Mr. Evans. There is no bolt-hole for you in this country. Loving the implication that US is lawless territory

Well this was a fun case. Such a complicated ploy to get one old man out of his house, and some great Holmes/Watson interaction. I really need some sleep now

#letters from watson #sherlock holmes #the three garridebs #I'm so tired now lol

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mononijikayu · 2 years

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chapter iii.

chapter iii.

Rating: T

Warning: Language, Mentions of Deaths;

SUMMARY: In which, MELLARA TARGARYEN lamenting her father's loss, discovers her father’s city. But then snooped her cousin prince DAEMON TARGARYEN, like a fish;

[it was at the invitation of the old king jaehaerys that princess mellara targaryen had come to king's landing for. after her beloved father's sudden passing, she had thought it best to pay homage to her grandfather as her father’s heir. without the knowledge of her mother, dowager princess elaena, mellara targaryen had accepted his invitation and set sail for the capital of the dragon kings. as much of her life spent in relative shelter, she had been fascinated with king aegon's city and had decided to explore it with her own wanting. unfortunately, such wanting also came with fishing the eager attention of a prince who longed for her. one she had not longed or asked for. but the fourteen flames see beyond the whims of human hearts and grant us truly what we need at that moment. life changed from here on end. the gods had spoken to her, loud and clear. she would not find life without daemon targaryen ever again.]

- maester aeron targaryen; adust

A D U S T m a s t e r l i s t

< you and i burn together or we shall die trying >

chapter i / chapter ii / chapter iii / chapter iv / chapter v chapter vi / chapter vii / chapter viii / chapter ix / chapter x chapter xi / chapter xii / chapter xiii / chapter xiv / chapter xv chapter xvi / chapter xvii / chapter xviii

Princess Mellara Targaryen had thought she would never belong any place else. Nor go on her own at all to seek adventure in her own endeavours. Her father had always been the one who had indulged her wanting, to seek out a dalliance with destiny beyond the frame of Blackhall’s blackened walls. Yet she knew that she could not rely on him any longer to be her companion to these wanting journeys. From now on, Mellara knew that she would have to do it all alone. Yet a grown woman she was and still had felt lost in the marvels as they sailed through the Blackwater’s rushing drifts. Destiny awaited her, she knew. One that now is tied with this foreign world she had never truly known.

Standing atop the ship’s bow, she peered at the busting life across the shore, distant colors dancing against the morose sunlight dashing with heat. Reaching her hand out at the dragon’s city, she wondered about the life that blossomed so far away. A life that was once shared by her dear beloved father, Aelor. Father had seldom talked about his life growing up in the Red Keep. Mother had always said that it was not something that had delighted father. It was not hard to understand that there had been a rift in the family. One that had been festering for a long time. Each time the old king commanded his family to gather, her father sent no apologies — only that he would not be attending to his family. The queen would send missives from time to time too, to visit her in Dragonstone. Her father considered those missives genuinely, bringing Mellara to see her aging grandmother, relishing in a new generation of dragons.

‘Another female heir!’ Queen Alysanne rejoiced, beaming at her joyfully before embracing her tightly. ‘Oh, my son. You and Aemon do me proud.’

He was one of the elder children in a big brood of dragons. Born the third son, her father had always been destined to find his way into the world. Without a crown to inherit and responsibilities to be had, Aelor Targaryen seem to have been as wild as aunt Alyssa. Mellara had heard that if anyone should be her father’s twin, it would be aunt Alyssa. She, her father and uncle Baelon formed a triad in the court yard, uncle Baelon would say. Father had always indulged aunt Alyssa when she would take his breeches to wear and his daggers lost to her use. Father had always been close to many of his sisters, though uncle Baelon had remarked upon that too sadly. Father had refused anymore talk of it, when she inquired to learn more about their family, he grew to frown at the thought of it. Mellara thought her own father would burst to tears. Yet he always left to tend to Blacknight before he could shed any tears.

Mellare relied on the response she would get from her grandmother and uncle when she could write to them. Though both busy with the affairs of the realm, they had induldged her with the thoughts of family that she would never know from her father. Grandmother recalled that her father prince Aelor had always been a bright young boy. Though she lamented that he never took things as seriously as a prince should, desiring above all to make everyone laugh. Uncle Baelon said that father’s every word, his every line was accompanied by a jest and a smile, At times, he said that he saw aunt Alyssa in father — how such vivacious spirits in him keeps their sister alive. Mellara had pondered for a moment that they thought that her father would live to be grey, happy at the company of his family.

Yet when uncle Baelon died so suddenly, prince Aelor Targaryen began to be sullen with worry. It had worried Mellara, at how his reddening eyes were sunken with weariness. His own knight’s body becoming nothing more than a frail man beyond the reach of his true age. At times he did not speak at all, rather paused into a stupor for hours before he would start screaming and be engrossed into tears as he muttered words none could understand. Mother had truly been so worried, much more so when father had announced his intention to come to the Great Council to declare his fealty to Rhaenys, as he had sworn to his elder brother Aemon all those years ago. Yet others had put forth his name, lord Tyrell and lord Tully were eager to see him as prince of Dragonstone. He was after all, the last living son of king Jaehaerys left to inherit.

Mellara was entrusted to rule Blackhall on her father’s absence, but she had heard whispers of what had happened. About how her father had rescinded his claim to the Iron Throne, how he would not even dare look at his own royal sire. Her father had all but been the deciding vote to choose the heir, king Jaehaerys had insisted upon it so. In the silence, his eyes not even open, her silver haired father stood up, a cane supporting him in hand. He could not do anything now, the realm against his choice. Muttering feverishly, father voted to install Viserys as heir to the Iron Throne. It had been a shock, as prideful prince Aelor had never backed even his own brother prince Baelon as heir.

When father had returned home, he could barely get off Blacknight’s saddle. In the haze of the magma boisterously burning through him, prince Aelor was once more in a stupor and none could get him out of it. Mother had tried her best, even against her piling tears. But father did not get well and the very heat that enthralled his very being, had doomed him in the end. Prince Aelor never woke from his stupor, he had stopped murmuring to himself and most of all, his heart had all but stopped beating. Mother had been most inconsolable. But so was she — now a young woman without the light of her world, abandoned by the father she had so always needed.

The memories flooded back instantly, like she was dreaming of him again. Mellara had loved her father too dearly, too dearly to even think of forgetting anything about him. His laughter beamed at her poignantly, echoing in her head like a melancholic tune. HIs joyous lilac eyes that matched her own, beaming so vigorously with life. Long silver hair was neatly plaided into a singular braid, easing at the small of his back when he turned. Soft hands squeeze her palm, lovingly embracing her with all the fire in him. She felt her heart clench in her chest harshly, missing him and grieving him all at once. It was as though life was once more being siphoned out of her body. Pursing her lips deeply, she let her hand down. It had only been recently since he had passed away from illness, but she still could not believe his loss.

It had not been easy for her family, especially her mother, who had become a widow over night. Without his boisterous voice ringing through the blackened stone, the halls of Blackhall had never been any sadder, nor any quieter. One could hear the fall of the pin across halls nowadays. Silence was all there was, bitter and grievous. It had all been so sudden, so eagerly beckoned by fate. The gods had commanded him home into their arms, back into the flames. Just as they give, they also do take. Mellara had cursed Aerax, the god of death, so many times as she knelt in front of the altar’s flames. Tears faster than she could register, Mellara Targaryen could only curse Aerax, could only say she shall no longer pray at his behest.

‘But that would not bring father back,’ She lamented deep inside her, falling to her knees then. The fire only kept burning, as though to observe the grief only humans could truly have. ‘My father is gone. He would never come back again.’

The gods had given her little choice at all; she was still alive. The gods would nto take her, not that easily. No matter how many tears she cried, her father would not come back. Nothing will change that fact anymore, nto even if she plead otherwise. She will have to live on, for his sake. For her mother’s sake. For what he had all left behind, this legacy. She was his legacy now. That is what her grandfather told her when he had met her, her father’s body resting in the rocky hill, where her father’s body laid bare in the colors of his house.

Mellara had never met her grandfather before. But as she bowed before him, she knew that she could not help notice her father’s eyes in his.Tears stroked king Jaehaerys’s weary eyes, bitter from sorrow and battered with yet another loss. They had just lost grandmother a year before and now both uncle Baelon and father had followed one another to the arms of Aerax. With his weary hands in hers, Jaehaerys had implored her to do, as he held her hand through the flames of Vermithor being the one that had led her father home.

They had wept together all day, after her father had been laid to rest down the crypts of Blackhall. Grandfather had lamented that his effigy was such a good likeness, how it had reminded him of queen Alysanne. He had looked exactly like her, grandfather thinks. That had made him weep even more and soon she had followed too, inconsolable. When the tears had stopped later that night, she and her grandfather had decided to dine alone. Grandfather had quite a lot of stories, fondness and lamenting. There had been many joyous times between father and son. The old king had been most pleased with vivacious prince Aelor when he had been a boy. Yet just like father, it seemed that it hurt her grandfather to talk about their parting. There was endless regret in his purple haze, gleaming with tears.

‘There would be much I would change, dear girl.’ Her grandfather had admitted to her, his gleaming with lonesomeness under the candlelight. ‘I wished I had been a better man, for all those I had loved. But such thoughts are admitted too little to late. I hope you would not find yourself doing the same.’

‘Then what would you have me do, grandsire?’

He purses his lips at her, before a sorrowful smile hit. ‘That you would live, dear girl. Before it is all too late. And do well with it.’

When her grandfather prepared to leave, he had bid his good-daughter goodbye. Though she had been most distant with the old king, being courteous enough with him. When he bid his granddaughter farewell, the king had asked her to come and visit him at court. She would always have a place there, he swore. He would be most delighted to have his son’s only child at his court, to bring life to it once more. To see where her father had grown into the man he had become. Mellara had been apprehensive at the thought of it. But as her grandfather flew away on his mount, she knew that she could not hesitate any longer. Perhaps it may have been the madness of grief, mayhaps it had been the unsettled madness in her dragon veins. The princess commanded days after, that she would be leaving for King’s Landing quietly into the dawn. Mellara Targaryen had written a note to her lady mother and rushed aboard her father’s flagship, ‘Winter Child’, without a second thought to the world.

When they had landed at the port, Mellara and her retinue had found themselves in the streets of King’s Landing. The sun shone brightly down on them.Mellara sat in the wheelhouse with her servants. The sound of eager merchants endorsing their produce left and right. The young children play small games with wide smiles on their faces. Old men, gazing intently at the wooden board as they play chess on the corner of the street. One was singing by a drunk man on the corner, and the other was laughing at the drunken man's amusing features. Women are whispering around the small benches by the fountain, eagerly sending gazes and laughing at the secret that only exists between the two of them.

Mellara Targaryen had yet to see this in her life.

Weary from the journey, Mellara had decided that she and her retinue would stop at a local inn for the day. It had been hours since her last meal, and as such, she was famished. It was under the instructions of her lady mother that, under no circumstances, should the retinue stop until they reached the Red Keep. Not only was Mellara the only child she had, she was a princess by blood. If any danger should come to her, there would be a price. But Mellara did not seem to care. She was the princess of blood; her word was stronger than her mother, who was but a wife.

Bribing them quietly as they carried her belongings with vigour onto her chambers on the second floor. Mellara really liked the room. Two huge lights were placed on either side of the one long bed, which had linens that were lavender in hue. The two circular tables were gilded with delicate touches of silver. A bottle of ink was sitting inside a glass cylinder on a little desk with two quills laying on top of crisp, white parchment. She dared not open the two large windows that were on each side of the bed. There was a fireplace with brand-new, unlit logs. It also had a reddish rose scent. She neither liked nor hated the scent, but she would have gone without it.

Soon enough, her servants had gathered food for her nourishment. Bringing it to her small table, they removed the items from before and neatly parted them away. Mellara thanked them, giving a gracious smile. A roasted lamb buttered on the spit, salted potatoes burned on the stove, and slices of bread toasted to gold. It was accompanied by sweetened wine, cool to the touch. It pleased her. Mellara ate happily, leaving none to spare. She had never eaten such a thing before. It was not the common thing that lords used to have on their tables. Yet she was sure she would have the servant to ask for more before their departure tomorrow.

Looking out her window, she found that she could see the sea all the way. It was beaming with such a deep sapphire gleam. like what her father had found before when he had been in Tarth. She could not help but laugh at the memory. His family was concerned that his father would travel there, knowing that his late brother, Prince Aemon, had died at the hands of pirates. But he did not particularly care, not even when his mother was growing angry at him. On Blacknight’s back, he flew onto the shores and into one rocky mound, sitting there for hours to fish while Blacknight flew across the sky, acting as her father’s protector.

At that moment, Mellara grinned as she stood up. She called on her maidservant and commanded her to help her dress. Mellara took to her chest, laughing as she revealed her long woolen dress. It was Braavosi wool, turquoise blushing against pink, with long cut sleeves with Myrish lace and flattened trims of Volantine silk. The princess knew that it was better to disguise herself if she were to go out. It was a gift from cousin Rhaenys many moons ago when she visited her in Blackhall.They would not find Mellara Targaryen. Rather, they will find her a Valyrian tradesman's daughter, out for a stroll in such streets.

As soon as the servant finished dressing her, Mellara ran towards her belongings and started to mess up her small gowns, her woolen clothes, her silks, and even her laced petticoats. She did not stop, even if her servant had told her to calm herself, not until she found what she was looking for. She collapsed onto her bed while holding the item. Taking a good look at her kit, she grinned harder. It was her casting rod. She was sure of it. Blackwater was only a few minutes' walk away. If she gets lost, maybe she can ask someone. It would not be hard to do so. If someone approaches her wrongfully, she knows what to do. She was capable of looking after herself.She will be fine. She was her father’s daughter, after all.

The two guards simultaneously said, "My lady," bowing to her in a respectful manner.

Mellara swallowed and gave them a nod.

She welcomed them by saying, "Gentlemen, good morning."

"Has my lady eaten well?"

"Yes, I have. I have rested as well." Mellara replied, trying not to show her impatience. "I have a question for you two."

One of the guards said obediently, "Yes, my lady."

She asks them politely, attempting to put on a grin that was both pleased and compassionate, "How is the weather for you lads? I should anticipate that you would want to drink a few ales given the heat here. "

The second guard replies, "Oh, dear lady, we do not drink when we are on duty."

The other person nodded. "My ladyship, we must maintain our sobriety for your protection."

"But even so, I would like to provide for you." She persisted, swiftly removing several gold dragons from her dressage, "Here, on my treat. I would hate for you both to be suffering. You need to go get some air. I don't want the warriors of my late lord father to be mistreated.”

“Surely, my lady, this would be unwise—"

Mellara shook her head and said, "That is an order, please. If you will not listen to my suggestion, regard it as a demand. Sers, you must obey your mistress or else. Consequences will take place.”

Those eyes were the same as those of the dragons themselves, so furious and frightening. It was almost like a thunderstorm glazed by thunder, a purple thunder with such vicious intent. Soon, their dread became apparent, and the two gentlemen nodded and bowed, swiftly departing, which caused her to feel a sense of loss. At that moment, she cheered and smiled. There would be no one to disturb her now. The others were still bruised by their own weariness from the trip. This was her chance.

Walking down the stairs with care, she hid her face with the kit and felt the very essence of her soul rise out of her nervousness. She feared her hair would become too obvious, so she put the kit atop her head and walked. She moved with boldness and determination, forcing adrenaline into her body, and she managed to leave without incident. She sighed a breath of relief.

Melara giggled. The shine of the stone cobbled street glazed her sight and soon she was jumping across them. She decided to ask for directions once she saw a pondering wanderer.

"Pardon me." She asks, her thick Valyrian accent placid across her words. "Good sir, I apologize for interrupting your morning, but could you please advise me how to get to the Blackwater?"

The man gave her a quizzical glance, deciphering her words. A few moments later, he nodded and said, "Ah, that way. That way!"

"Ah, thank you!"

The beauty of King's Landing unfolded as she walked through the narrow streets, holding her fishing rod and among the crowd of the half a million people either selling or trading their goods on the sidewalks and in the small makeshift markets that sprung up all around the steps of the paved pathways.

Some just strolled to the Street of Steel while carrying their infants or strolling beside their spouses and wives to enjoy the heat of the brilliant sun. Mellara saw the magnificent structures of the past and present, some of which were old inns that had existed there before her family came from across the coast. There were other bakeries with the nicest bread she had ever eaten, as well as those that were just brand new, like the smith's armory that she passed and which hung a freshly painted sign above its working area. She made purchases there for potential needs. A tiny cup of fresh lemonade, some bread for herself and food for any fish she might catch. When he returned from his trip, her father gladly gave her such a gift.

Once she had finished, she continued to walk. Mellara's waving hello and greeting good morning, despite the reactions from the people she walked past, were filled with such unenthusiastic faces and rather uncomfortable glances. Mellara could not fault some of them for not saying her greetings back to her. She was a foreigner to them, and from what they saw of her, she did look like a foreigner. This much was true. She was a foreigner, even in a dragon’s city.

A grin instantly appeared on Mellara's face as she gazed over the black, tranquil waters that made up the city's most well-known body of water once she finally located the Blackwater Rush much later, after an exhilarating journey of wandering. This was unlike any river or lake Mellara had ever seen before, let alone those in the Riverlands or elsewhere. She has long pondered the origin of the name's true meaning from her father’s stories. But she now knows. She was more excited than ever before to behold it. She could not keep her eyes off it at all.

It was a milder shade of black, with enormous, dark stones and smaller ones that sank into the water, where she could see the little white foam that pops up in the water rather than being too charcoal-dark. Because of the blue sky, the Blackwater's blackness appeared to be daytime and its skies to be nighttime, creating a whole different environment that she had never imagined to be another realm. The gods gave them such a wonder, one that could never truly be expressed in any other words. If her father were here, he would have had many things to say. He would have loved to fish with her here, to laugh. Mellara sighed softly, closing her eyes. No, he is here. He was watching her. Mellara decided then and there that she would catch a fish, one way or another.

The young Targaryen walked towards the edge of one of the high-formed rocks and stood there, surrounded by small shrubs of grass and large forms of other rocks. Her small hands took out a bag of worms from the small rucksack she had placed some essentials in and took one from the small packets with her gloved hand. Despite it moving, she took her fishing rod with her other hand and carefully stuck it to the hook the way her lord father had taught her. And when everything was clear, she used both hands to grip the end of the fishing rod and aimed high to allow it to flow down into the ceaseless water.

She could not help but get distracted by his loud and boisterous laughter in her head. That one time, a long time ago, he fell into the river because the fish had been too big. The water splashed all over her as he rose up, shaking the water away. fish in hand for a moment and then how it disappeared into the sea once again. Such good memories surrounded Mellara Targaryen, even at the most unfortunate of times.

But there was no room for wondering about the past as she felt the tugging at her hands. Mellara’s face contorted as she grabbed the end of the rod and pulled as firmly as she could while trying to act quickly. The silver-haired young woman had the impression that she was engaged in combat or under siege as she pulled and held her ground against the opposition. After a while, the young princess had unintentionally flung it behind her while still holding it. While holding her fishing rod and attempting to free it from some sort of impasse, Mellara overheard the sound of panicked horses.

"You, woman with the fishing rod!" The voice called to her, causing her to turn around and find two men on horses. One was a tall, lean man with dark purple eyes, one like her grandfather’s. His silver hair was more like white gold, dangerously sharp as it fell behind his shoulders. The other was calming his horse. Her fishing rod's edge was stuck in the cloak of the man with silvery hair.

In the sudden silence, the man laughed loudly.

Mellara’s face turns hot red.

"Brother, this is hardly something you should laugh about."

"My apologies," As he felt the laughter continue to escape him, the man with the sharp dark purple said. "This is quite funny. I like it. I am no longer bored!”

"Indeed, but this is not funny. it's something that I did not expect." the calm one replied. "Maybe we should be more careful with where we go."

She gasped. "Oh, dear gods, please don't move!"

She drops her fishing rod, grabs her pack, pulls out a little pocket knife, and rushes over to the two guys on horses. The dark orbs of the young man prevented Mellara from cutting the cloak even though she felt tall enough to do it. Persisting, she glared at the man as he tried to stop her. The knife was dull, but it was sharp enough to hurt someone. The one who had been laughing stopped. His gaze hardened slightly.

"What is your problem?" She said, frustrated, suddenly in Valyrian. "I am trying to do my best here!"

For a moment, taken aback by hearing such words, the dark-eyed young man pursed his lips. "You watch your tongue, girl. Why did you bring out a knife?"

She raised a brow at him, her eyes boring a glare. “Or what, huh? If it were my will, then I would have shoved you off that horse at this moment. "You pompous bastard!"

The man smirked. Dark eyes glistened against the lilac. He replied in Valyrian, "It was a simple question, little girl. Why? Are your hands too weak to remove the hook, little girl?"

"It is quicker!" She glared at him. "It is a dull knife. What would it do to you men? Are you that scared of a dulled knife, little boy?”

“A knife is still a knife, little girl. You best put it away or there will be consequences."

The kinder-toned man shook his head. "You have no need to do this. It is alright, let her cut it.”

“You heard what he said, now let me through.”

“No.” The sly man grinned at her.

“I will thrash you.”

“Do you think you can do it, silly girl?”

She glared at him furious. “Do not call me that. I am not a little girl.”

“You look small to me.”

“Why you-”

"Perhaps it is what I needed, brother. Thank you for suggesting this ride." He laughed. Leaning forward the younger woman, he smiled. “Do you have a name, my lady?”

“What makes you think I will give it to you freely?”

His pompous bravado echoed across his tone. "Do you have no idea who I am? Who you are challenging?”

"I do not know and I do not care!" She retorted back at him just as viciously. “Gods, men are annoying!”

He smiled. “And women are intriguing.”

She pursed her lips and soon enough she says, “What do you actually know of women, ser?”

‘That I like them.” He replies, he takes the hand with the dull knife. “But I can show you once you let this go.”

Her face contorted in disgust. “Do not ruin my day for me. Let me go! I want to remove this hook and move on with my life.”

"Put the knife away first and then we can talk about such a thing."

"Can you leave me alone and let me do what I can?"

"Daemon, let her be!" The kinder man commanded the tall man's brutish figure.Mellara watched as he gritted his teeth and backed away. "There is no need. After all, this is a public space. She is free to fish whenever she wants.”

"My, you speak like the prince of Dragonstone you are."

"The Prince of Dragonstone?" Mellara paused, and it hit her at the moment. Everything suddenly made sense. "Daemon?..."

A loud audible gasp was released from her, gazing at the two. It was them. Eyes widened, her fear and horror rushed through her all at once. She could not move. Immediately so, the knife fell to the ground. At that moment, she could not help but do what she had to. She could have possibly just commited treason against her princely cousins. Mellara felt like her eyes were weakening, almost as though glass was pressed against the lilac gaze. Shaking in fear and red-faced, she did what she could at the time. Quickly releasing her fishing rod, the lady took what was left of her kit and ran as fast as she could. Daemon smirked, turning to his brother with crossed arms. Viserys Targaryen sighed, shaking his head.

"Are you alright?" he inquired as his brother retrieved a knife from his saddle and cut his clothing free from the hook.

"I am fine." He gave his brother a nod. "But I fear she will not be."

Daemon laughed, climbing back atop his horse. "She’s intriguing."

"Must you antagonize her like that, brother?" Viserys shook his head. "How will she face you now, at court? You scared her.”

"With the same fire she had a while ago," Daemon reassures his brother. “My acting will not deter her.”

"You say that so surely."

“She has that will. I like it, brother.” Daemon nodded his head, a smirk upon his lips. "I want her. No, I will have her. Soon enough.”

Viserys let his lips curl into a line. "What do you go on about?"

"Nothing." Daemon laughs, riding ahead.

Viserys wants to ask, but he does not get to.

He clearly heard what he had said.

Daemon Targaryen will get what he wants.

Even if she does not remember him, he does.

Viserys Targaryen prays for all to be well.

May the gods heed his prayers.

#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc #house targaryen #jaehaerys targaryen #viserys targaryen

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irregularbillcipher · 8 months

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hi hi birdie mutual, remember that thing i posted a while ago about how some companions might have gotten nothing in the update due to everything that needed to be known about them being already known?? i was thinking of how does this apply to birdie, and i think it could be becuz well olan and mad dog's mention of them being fathers was just snippets that you get to know of in their bios but dont influence them as much, so in the DE there is more talking about how their experiences being fathers shaped them, then there's birdie who's whole character is basically being the way he is becuz of his sons, succumbing to alcoholism because of the death of his kids and that's a different type of grief from losing someone to the flash, as he's been carrying with this probably before it, so maybe that's why he got little to nothing, all u need to know is how devoted to his kids he was. another interesting thing is he is in that one convo with the depressed guys, but i keep thinking him being in the background and not contributing to trash talking other people is made to show that as much as birdie has sunk in life, he's still a good guy. what do ya think abt this, sorry for long text

no no don't apologize

okay so i agree with you for the most part on the olan and mad dog thing! i would argue that mad dog being a dad is focused on in his bio in a way olan's fatherhood isn't-- his abuse and attitude towards his children makes up 3/4 of his bio after all-- but yeah, still not as much as birdie, considering literally every sentence of his bio either describes him as a single father, describes his children, or describes his grief over losing them. so i do agree that birdie is member whose role as a father was most important to his identity, and probably needed the least explanation

i do still think it's possible to miss that he's a dad-- i've mentioned once or twice that people pretty regularly claim there's no decent dads in lisa because they forget him, and i had a friend who admitted that he thought joey and jimmy were like, pals of his and that he was talking about missing friends since his dialogue just calls them "boys" and doesn't specify they're his kids-- but i can totally see austin and the other devs having the thought of like "the bio says everything about birdie as a dad that it needs to." i would have loved more, obviously, but i can begrudgingly admit that, y'know, i get it

your interpretation of the scene he DID get is cool though! my thought when i saw him in that scene is that it was a sort of meanspirited joke that he was the biggest "loser" in the party-- like yeah, these other losers will trash talk terry and gang up on percy, but birdie is so pathetic to them that they won't even acknowledge him-- but i really really like your interpretation. birdie is a mess in so many ways, but he's never cruel, and he's not resorting to purposefully bringing down others, and it would be cool if his inclusion in the scene was meant to show us that. yeah, he looks like a disaster, he's on his hands and knees and spitting up in a dark corner, but at least he's not joining the loser brigade and being unnecessarily nasty. maybe he's being left out and acting like a wreck, but he's the least loser-y guy in the group, and it says a lot that someone as messy and down-and-out as birdie walks away looking like the most dignified person there

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cerise-on-top · 2 years

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Well hello I have seen you have done some wonderful OFF fanfiction and I saw the request it open so I have one . You can ignore it of you want

Well I have a request of Batter having a fear of player dieing since now that they are in OFF world and gaurdians and Spector would hurt them they aren't careful. Of course the don't really die they just went to state of coma when their hp hit 0 . they are healed by saved block and yes the items doesn't work on them.

So when the player notice that they tried to comfort them while they were taking a break at zone 0 since that is the safest place

Thank you, that's very kind of you to say! Hehe, that was a really good request, I enjoyed this one a lot! Sorry it took me so long! But better late than never, I suppose!

Batter Fearing for Player’s Life

He held you in higher regards than anyone, anything, else. And yet, despite that faith he had in you, he wasn’t so sure if you were meant to be in this world alongside him. Whereas the realm you must have been from surely had its own hazards Batter was unaware of, he knew of the perils this world held. Royal guardians, spectres, ghouls, none of which were to be underestimated. This wasn’t some child’s play, after all. A coma was one thing, but it didn’t necessarily equate to death, the fate he feared would await you was he not careful.

And thus he fought, for a higher cause and his own. His body was reparable, replaceable, but yours was not. No matter what, as long as you could puppeteer the Add-Ons as masterfully as you always have, sooner or later you would bring him back to life, whether it be through a Joker or a magical cube. As long as you were alive, there was always hope.

Blow after blow, he would endure them all so you would never have to experience physical harm, what was aimed at you would ultimately hit him. Nothing of that sort could ever vitiate him, a reason to keep going was always present. Naturally, this reckless behaviour did not go unnoticed by you.

Indeed, you were not as experienced a fighter as Batter, at the very least when it came to physical combat, but keeping the vitality of your companion and the Add-Ons in check was part of your duties as well. Beaten and bruised, that’s what Batter would usually emerge victorious from after a battle, while you were unscathed. With the enemies growing increasingly more potent as well, this seemed to pose quite a threat. Not only was your stock of invigorating items depleting quicker than anticipated, that aside actually, but Batter appeared to have been quite troubled as well. Despite this not being part of your duty, you had grown to care about him, deeply, even.

Taking a moment to consider your next course of action it was evident things could not continue the way they had been until now. The mission was important, yes, but some things simply had to be prioritised. Procrastination was the thief of time, but the life of a loved one had more value. And thus, having found a magical cube allowing for the travel into the Nothingness, you took advantage of it, leading your party to the safety of where this journey had begun: zone 0.

Batter may have been puzzled by this, yet would by no means question your judgement, for you were always inherently right. In spite of this, he was at a loss for words momentarily when you turned to him, making an inquiry, as harsh as you were worried. “Batter, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, I can assure you of that.” He may not have understood the query entirely, but was certain he was telling the truth. A saint could always tell a vice from a virtue.

“You’ve been getting yourself injured more and more as of late, why? Why are you so reckless?”

“If you die then the mission cannot be completed. I am merely protecting you from the harm these vile phantoms would cause you.”

That was quite unexpected, but nevertheless, also rather sweet of him. However, it seemed as though there must have been more to it as well, for when you took a breath to enlighten him of the beliefs you knew to be untrue, he glanced at the ground next to you, averting his eyes. “I simply do not wish to lose you.”

For a moment, you were taken aback. The stoicism was present in his voice, as per usual, but the care he felt for you was stronger than even that. Just those few words showed that. Yet, you couldn’t help but smile, taking his hands into yours, watching as he made eye contact with you once again. “Silly goose.” He blinked a few times, studying you closely. “You do know that the magical cubes heal me too, right? So, trust me when I say, you’re not going to get rid of me that easily. I’m like a limpet in that regard. So please, don’t worry that much about me, I can handle myself.”

A tiny sigh escaped him as he closed his for just a moment, a tiny smile ever so slowly creeping onto his face. Contrasting how rough and merciless he was in battle, he gently squeezed your hands, taking in the warmth seeping from them, a reminder you were here with him, no matter what. When he locked his eyes with yours once more you could have sworn that the ruby red hue seemed a little brighter than usual, his features softer than you had ever seen them before. “I understand. Very well, my Player, I am grateful for your clarification on this matter. Shall we continue our quest, then?”

#hcs #off (game)#batter x reader #batter x player #god this made me realise that my really are more like mini fics #but people haven't complained yet so I'm guessing it's okay #either way here it is. please enjoy!#not to be cringe on main but we stan a player taking care of Batter #800+ words can i get to 1.000+ one day on accident #if i ever do i'm gonna celebrate that definitely somehow

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goldenfoxthe1st · 2 years

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u can take this as a theory or a headcanon but anyways ive been thinking and what it mk isnt human OR demon. his entire past is a complete mystery, all we know is that

1: he hasnt always gone by mk (one and possibly only reason being his name is incredibly long so he shortened it to match with his idol)

2: he has worked for pigsy for 2 years

i find it interesting how mk of all people was selected by monkey king to be his successor. i mean in the grand scheme of things, before he grabbed the staff he was just another guy doing his job. it could be his friendship with the reincarnations/descendants of his past traveling companions, or it could be for another entirely different reason.

something that strikes me as odd is that mk was able to perfectly control the staff and his powers when he was fighting dbk, but not before or after. it could be because he was in a life or death situation, or it could be because he wasnt focusing on the fact that his powers arent his. in that moment he truly believed he was the successor of the monkey king, and so he was able to use those powers without any problems. of course thats still a theory, theres no way to confirm why until it's said so in canon.

another thing is how did wukong know mk was worthy of picking up the staff. he said that he had been watching him but for how long? i doubt just the pilot episode, it has to have been much longer than that. wukong doesn't seem like the type of guy to hand out his power to just anybody, especially some dude who delivers noodles for a living.

i could go on and on and on about this and trust me, i want to, but for the sake of the people reading this im gonna continue on to the main point. mk isnt a human OR a demon, hes a being that was made to hold the power of the monkey king. in short, i believe mk is a celestial primate of some sort. i dont think he was born from stone, but i DO THINK he was made to be one. lady bone demon called him a monkey even though throughout the entire series hes been shown as human.

WHICH BRINGS ME TO MY NEXT POINT. in the lego sets mk has a monkey form, and it wouldn't make sense for him to just randomly become a monkey after months of having wukongs powers, that sort of thing would happen either right away or gradual changes. or it could. im not the writers so i cant say anything for sure. maybe ill make this an au. pre-mk mk was just pure energy until he gained a vessel. or he was a baby monkey created by the residual energy from macaque and wukongs fight in jttw that was diguised as a human and sent off into the world. my brain ran out of juice sorry its 1:30am

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #lmk theories #or headcanon #i could write a whole essay on this #but im a grown ass adult so No #unless....#i will probably draw something for this though #im just gonna call it #mystic mk au #feel free to ask questions about this because i will absolutely answer #i probably got some things wrong im tired

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scattered-winter · 11 months

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also for your oc ask game: !! i am very curious about your creatures/monsters!

I'll tell u abt some things from a vague fantasy concept I have !! I actually originally came up with these creature concepts to fit in with a fantasy au from an existing fandom + characters but I ended up liking them so much that I've started developing the worldbuilding itself separate from the au so I can eventually fit it into one of my oc stories <3 as of right now I don't actually have any ocs for this particular story setting BUT I have the world ready for ocs pretty much at any time so as soon as I think of them I'll have a whole story pretty much ready <33

so first: the cats <3

they're like. large cats (lions, leopards, tigers, etc) except they're BIG. like. tryna think of a good comparison but if you've seen the legend of korra, they're about as big as naga, the polar bear dog

speaking technically, there are breeds of giant cat that are pretty much really, really big housecats that civilians have in their households (usually to pull wagons or lift things, or sometimes they're just pets) but the cats I like to talk about are the slightly wild ones (lions, tigers, etc). they're the oldest species of giant cat, and all the domesticated ones are their descendants (like a wolf + dog situation) and they're the biggest and most dangerous. additionally, they're intrinsically linked to knights because as part of their training, a knight will choose a kitten (about the size of a small golden retriever <3) to become his battle companion for life. he will raise the cat and train it, and they will have a mystical bond that ties them together in ways most people can't even imagine. they can sense each other's emotions, and it's like. a tether . sorta tying them together. if a knight has a partner or kids or anyone he's particularly close to, the cat will sort of psuedo-bond with them (there isn't really an actual Bond but the cat will protect them like they were the knight himself) and if either the knight or the cat dies, the tether snaps, and losing a cat is considered one of the absolute worst tragedies that could happen because it's like losing a part of yourself. if a knight loses a cat he is able to get a new one, but a lot of knights don't do it because it's too painful to reopen the bond. and if a cat loses his knight, usually the pain of the severed bond drives them completely feral and they need to be taken down, or released into the wild unless the knight had family who could take care of it instead.

royal families also traditionally have cats, but they're more of a sign of status than an actual battle companion/steed. but since I love knights so much (not a secret to anyone who's been here for a while) I figured this worldbuilding would probably be centered around knights and their cats because <333333333

and I'll also talk about the hound!!! I've touched on it before on my blog but couldn't find the posts alas, so I'll try to sum everything up:

basically, the hound is an ancient eldritch horror that haunts the darkest corners of the world. it's passed into legend and so stories have spread, and so people will say it's a giant wolf, or a dragon dog, or a bunch of other things, but none of them are actually right. it isn't even organic matter!! it's basically a cocktail of dark spells and curses and black magic all compressed together like a neutron star and it takes the form of a giant shadowy dog. it has huge teeth and claws that can retract like a cat, and their full length is about a foot and a half long, and its claws and teeth also infect anyone who is bitten/scratched with death magic that slowly leeches away at their life force until they basically become a husk. like a zombie except it answers only to the hound. the husks are relatively easy to kill, but they can also spread the death magic infection to others, so if left unchecked it could be a major fucking problem. however if the hound kills its prey, they won't like. resurrect as a husk or anything. they have to be alive to be infected. back in the day the hound's handlers (the wizards who created it) would send it after their enemies, and the hound would track them all the way across the continent, and probably even across oceans too. it's manifested by shadows so it only shows up at night, but it will constantly track its prey until its dead. nowadays though, the hound has been around for thousands of years (long enough that it's more legend than anything else) and its handlers (the successors of the creators) don't really have a lot of information about what that thing really is. a lot of it was lost over the ages in what's basically a game of telephone, and each new generation of handler had less of an idea of what the hound is, so by now, the handlers have NO idea what theyre really dealing with.

the hound's ONLY weakness is light (life) magic. one of the most fundamental laws of the magic system is that Everything Has An Equal Opposing Force. no matter how powerful the spell is, there will ALWAYS be something equally powerful that can counter it. and each class of magic has an opposite class that can cancel it out. and because the hound is pure dark (death) magic, light magic is the natural opposite, and the only thing that can really stop the hound. unfortunately, light magic is practically extinct, and so if you're being hunted by the hound your only real chance at survival is rediscovering a magic discipline that hasn't been around for centuries <3

(the magic system has a LOT more moving parts but these are the ones that apply to the hound so. <3)

also, the hound has been EVOLVING all this time, so it's even MORE of an unknown. it's literally pure fucking evil, because it's made entirely of evil spells, and it's been programmed to be pure evil, but as time goes on, it starts gaining a bit of sentience. it was created to only follow the orders of its handlers, but as it learns and grows, the hound starts developing free will, and it starts hunting and killing because it loves the thrill of the hunt, not because it was ordered to. and eventually, down the line, it turns on its handlers and is unleashed without anyone holding it back or controlling it. and I figure Plot would happen when the main characters (whoever they are) go out to stop the hound and the potential husk zombie apocalypse but this fantasy story doesn't have any characters yet lmao. I have the worldbuilding and the setting, but it's not populated yet 😔

I've done a shitty little sketch of the thing also:

when it moves it has a sort of. anime flower petal effect except its with little particles of shadow floating off its body <3 also it can stand on its hind legs and when it does, its movements are super stilted and jerky and horror movie-esque, but when it's down on all fours it moves so smoothly and gracefully that it's terrifying in the OTHER direction because it moves like a Peak Predator. <3

ask me abt my original stuff !!

#the hound is one of my fav creations tbh.#i loove the giant cats too but thats just because i want a cat soo badly and im living vicariously by imagining a cat #big enough to ride #but i am first and foremost a lover of fucked up beasts and so the hound is DELIGHTFUL to me <3 #rattle-em-spooky-jones 🦴#ty for asking i was giggling and twirling my hair this entire time <333 teehee

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kimdokjas · 3 months

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[major orv epilogue spoilers]

i was rereading the webtoon the other day and i had to Stop for a sec thinking about sys & od parallels. do u guys see my vision. okay listen hear me out

the way kdj was already living in a ruined world before the apocalypse even began. the way the words he typed all those years ago in a cold and lonely hospital room were "how to survive in a ruined world". how he was just a child clinging onto the one and only life raft he had found. and so he dreamed.

and then the scenarios begin and he looks at sys who feels unworthy of living for just trying to survive. and she's just a child and it's not her fault so he extends forgiveness to her as easy as breathing... but he's incapable of extending that same forgiveness to himself. so he takes up his sword in that subway and charges at od as if it was the only possible conclusion—and then he leaves. he stays behind and his eternity is his own form of atonement.

"your death has no place in the ending i wish for", he tells sys. and he means it. what he doesn't say is that he himself isn't part of that ending. because he never saw himself as part of the story at all. his salvation was always meant for others, not himself, and the most cruel and tragic kind of love is a hypocritical one.

and while kdj is hypocritical in his love with all his companions, the parallel between sys and kdj is especially poignant because they were both just kids who felt guilty for simply living. and they both felt responsible for dooming the world. sys realizing her 41st turn version would cause mass destruction, and kdj seeing od in that subway. they both felt the same despair and self-hatred so why wouldn't they be worthy of the same forgiveness? their bond is special because they understand each other at their core, but the tragedy is that kdj could see himself mirrored in sys and forgive his reflection but he could never in a million years forgive himself.

#[lying in a pool of blood] man. orv is soooo fun isn't it haha #i already inflicted this on the gc but i wanted to flesh it out more so now y'all have to deal with it too <3 #orv #orv spoilers #man i sure hope my webtoon-only moots have orv spoilers blacklisted right. RIGHT????#kim dokja #shin yoosung #oldest dream #omniscient reader's viewpoint #gabby speaks #spoilers

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lumin3sc3 · 1 year

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You're so good at designing blogs and posts!!! Aaaaa im so jealous ; ; (v*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)v |||

I saw the request rules etc. when i checked the tot tag and wanted to request something, if that's alright with you :D

Regular Genshin Impact AU. Platonic+Fluff Zhongli and Fem!Reader, reader is younger lol (is it too obvious that im projecting here...) Reader has a personality similar to Hu Tao (energetic, mischevious, prankster, so on) but Zhongli is pretty fond of them anyway. One day, while sitting by the stone forest' many cliffs and enjoying a cup of tea together, Zhongli starts talking about the things they see in the distance.

They return to the harbor after that and have dinner at Wanmin restaurant before reader waves bye bye enthusiastically before running back to their home lmao

So to sum up; Reader spends a day casual yet very fun day with Zhongli (without knowing he is a god). Very happy and cute slice of life stuff ensues.

Note: Oh my god, tysm, what you said just now made my day <3! I tried my best with the designs haha, and honestly, your blog and posts are amazing too!! Nice to see an Artem fan :) And I hope I did this amazing idea justice 😭❤️ (also I used your idea and elaborated it, I hope you don’t mind)

Warnings: Small angst in the first part, I APOLOGIZE I COULDNT HELP IT (depends on if u think it’s angst or not tho) Nothing else :)

An Outing with A Friend

Zhongli is a very gentle, calm, and amiable person. Also quite reserved, the same goes for his friend group. Though he has made many companions over the years of his existence, not all of them have survived the trials of time. After the death of his closest friend, Guizhong, there were a few he held dear. And you were one of them—one he adored as well.

Of course, it may come as a surprise or bewilderment that a person with such a vexatious personality, as most people (primarily xiao) would describe you, was someone Zhongli cherished. To him, having you as a friend might be quite troublesome at times, but you definitely brought elation to his still life. Of course, not everyone passes the test of time; only the ones who are blessed do (though he isn’t so sure it’s a blessing anymore), but still, he’s learned to live in the moment and cherish each moment with people he reveres.

(Enough of the angst; let’s get to the fluffy part.)

It was a surprisingly quiet morning today; the sun shone brightly in the clear azure sky. The sun was warm but not scorching, and white fluffy clouds drifted across it. Birds chirping with their companions could be heard from afar, and the leaves of plants were covered in dew drops.

It was a lovely and pleasant morning, despite Hutao’s prattling about discounts on coffins. Of course, the calm atmosphere didn’t last for long, as a sudden bang made Zhongli jump out of his seat slightly. It also made Hutao stop chattering, (that’s when you know it was loud). And who was that visitor? None other than you, of course!

You greet everyone you see with an energetic wave, it was too early for such adrenaline to kick in, but who cares, right?

"Hutaoo, zhongli!!!" You run towards them merrily. Hutao reciprocates with a cheerful greeting.

"Tao tao, I wanted to ask you something! May I?"

"Sure! Go ahead."

You wanted to ask if you and Zhongli could spend the day together, considering it had been quite a while since you two spent quality time together, and you missed him a lot.

"Is it fine if I steal Zhongli just for today? Please?" You ask her, clasping her hands in a pleading way, making it so that you get an affirmative answer to your request.

"Sure, why not? You two have fun then! OH and don’t forget to take care of the old man, he might trip over some rock" Hutao called out as you grab Zhongli’s arm and ran out of the Parlor.

"Will do, ma’am!"

Once you get out of the parlor, you stop in your tracks and say, "So! Where should we go?"

He looks at you, perplexed, "Weren’t you the one who took me out, saying you wanted to spend time with me?"

You shrug. "Well,yea. But it doesn’t really matter where we go, does it? After all, I just wanted to spend time with you. So why don’t you choose?"

"Oh. If that’s the case, then I have the perfect place we could go, but before that, I’d like to get some tea. I have an excellent brew I’d like to share with you."

"Oh okay! Lead the way then."

And so you and Zhongli set off on your journey, after stopping by to get his tea, you two made your way to Huaguang Stone Forest. You didn’t have the slightest clue where he was taking you, but since it was his idea, you went along with it.

Your legs were numb from walking for so long, and you felt like fatigue was talking over your body.

"Zhonglii, are we there yet?" You called out, your weary eyes threatening to shut, but Zhongli was anything but tired; the man was walking calmly, hands behind his back, as he only nodded to your exasperated calls.

And after what seemed like eternity, he finally stopped. You thanked the archons as you sat on one of the rocks. You didn’t care how harsh the seat it was; to you, the rocks now felt like a luxurious and soft cushion. You caught your breath and looked up, and your mouth was left agape. Maybe the effort was worth it after all; the scenery was absolutely breathtaking.

The evening sun had cast long shadows on the ground, and the slanting rays of the setting sun gave a warm orange glow to the sky. The sky was painted in orange, red, and yellow hues, and the sun was dozing off, shielded behind the grassy mountains and fog. You sit on one of the edges, staring off into the sky. The golden rays filtered through your eyelashes as you sighed happily.

"Care for some tea?" Zhongli hands you a delicate cup with intricate designs on it; the aroma of the tea soothed you in a way that was indescribable. And the taste was just as pleasant as the smell.

"Not a surprise, I suppose," you thought to yourself.

"You know, this isn’t as bad as I thought it was; I could get used to this." You say with a smile on your face, gazing at the sky and mountains, the warmth of the tea in your arms makes the serene and tranquil atmosphere even better.

"Zhongli, you wanna play "I Spy"?"

"Hm? Is that some sort of game?"

You face palm internally, "It is, yes. It’s basically like this: I ask you to guess the object I’m seeing within my sight by telling you clues about the objects."

Zhongli thinks for a moment, then says, "Alright, I think I got it; why don’t you go first?"

"Why, thank you." You scan your surroundings before placing your vision on a bird circling around one of the mountains in the distance.

"Since it’s your first game, I’ll go a little easy on you. I spy with my little eyes… a creature that has a shade of brown." Though you said you’d go easy on him, you gave a pretty vague clue. Proud of how well you did, you gave yourself a mental fist bump, smiling sneakily. But before you could congratulate yourself, he calls out.

"Could it perhaps be the Umbertail Falcon you’re talking about?"

You were astonished—not only did he correctly guess, but he also named the species of the bird!?

"Geez! You have quite the eyesight for someone your age, old man." You huff bitterly, folding your arms, as Zhongli lets out a chuckle.

And time flew by in an instant as you and Zhongli talked about life and played games. You even listened to some of his stories; you never knew he knew so much about Liyue. Of course, some were quite tedious to listen to. But it was an amusing experience nonetheless.

And so you and Zhongli made your way back to Liyue Harbor; the night sky was aglow with bright luminescent city lights; you looked up at the blanket of stars that stretched to infinity; and you heard the occasional giggling and excitement of faraway children running back and forth.

You stopped by at Wanmin restaurant to have a meal, and before you could grab your wallet from the pocket of your clothes, Zhongli stopped you.

"It’s alright, I’ll be paying today."

Your eyes were as big as saucers; if your jaw wasn’t intact, it would probably fall off as well. "YOU?! PAY?!"

"Yes..? I don’t see why you are so astonished by that." He looks at you, perplexed.

Well, since he’s paying, why not take advantage of it, right?

Zhongli calls Chef Mao, asking him what he’d recommend, and the renowned chef replies by recommending innumerable names of dishes.

When you choose a dish, Chef Mao looks at you slightly concerned, "It’s a good choice, but it is a tad bit spicy."

Zhongli suggests, "Well, if that’s the case, may I sugg-"

You cut him off, "Pshh, you think I can’t handle a little spice? You’re clearly mistaken, sir; I’m no weakling that can’t handle mere pepper!" You huff your chest, gesturing to the chef to put it in the order as well, and he does so hesitantly.

"It can’t be that bad, right?" You reflected to yourself.

Oh, it’s very bad.

You gulp, sweat trickling down your forehead, you stare at the fiery carmine coloured soup in front of you, and you swore the scent it gave off burned your nostrils. You could feel a cough bubbling up your chest from the intense fragrance. You take a deep breath and swallow a spoon whole; after all, you don't want to embarrass yourself in front of Zhongli.

And boy, did you regret it. Your face turned beet red as you stood up at lightning speed, coughing aggressively. Zhongli, seeing your frantic state, hands you a cup of water, which you chug down quickly, patting your back soothingly. After a good 10 minutes of panicking, you sit down, sighing.

"Maybe I should’ve just ordered something else."

Zhongli laughs, which causes you to get even more annoyed. You failed to notice he’s been drinking the same soup all this time; he has quite the spice tolerance.

But other than that, once you ordered something to your liking, you and Zhongli feasted on a hearty meal, and you left the restaurant with a happy heart and stomach.

And so, as the eventful day came to an end, you and Zhongli walked out of the restaurant, the cool, chilly breeze bringing a welcoming close to your day.

"Thank you, Zhongli! I must admit this was really fun; we should do this again sometime." You chirp happily.

"I agree as well. Well then, we must bid our goodbyes, and I hope to see you again sometime soon."

"Yup! See you then, old man, don't trip over a rock," you warn between snickers as you enthusiastically wave before entering your home.

✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚

A/N: Lmaoo why is this so long bye 😭✋, I got too carried away writing about the scenery I’m so sorry. I still hope it was nice reading it tho, and lmk if you’d like me to change up something or correct any errors.

#Genshin #genshin impact fanfics #genshin zhongli #zhongli

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alumort · 1 year

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ao3

hi fellas its me again!! written due to a power outrage (solved... i think... i hope...)

anyways hope u enjoy :D

There was no difference between having to bring Angel to an ice cream stand every single day before work, and their "date". That's how the devil wanted to call it— but in reality, it was yet another excuse for the redhead to eat his favorite treat without his companion complaining. But there was something different on Angel; on his attitude towards the world, or a slight difference in his eyes compared to his usual serious expression. How his wings slightly fluttered as he walked, as if there was so much excitement on his soul that it flooded through his entire body. Something strange was going on. For once the devil had stopped talking about death, too focused on his food and on the soft humming that sometimes escaped through his lips- he even moved his legs in an unheard rhythm after both men sat down, not really saying much for there was nothing to talk about. What topic could they even discuss? The death of more devil hunters than one could count without losing track, or how little time left Aki had? The only uncommon thing that had happened to the black haired man had been that Nyako had woken him up to ask for food, and Power had just laughed at the situation, petting her cat as if she was proud of what it had done. (And she probably had allowed that to happen, but the human had no clue to prove it. It wasn't like something could be done, anyways.) He could feel a pair of eyes falling on him even though his mind was focused on something completely different— without turning around, Aki saw that his companion was observing him in silence every now and then, and the traces of what probably was an smile could be seen on his face. "What's so funny?" Aki exclaimed with a frown, and Angel immediately acted as if the ground became interesting from a moment to another. The man couldn't understand what was going on inside of the devil's brain, and for a moment he was decided to insist— until Angel carefully rested his head on Aki's shoulder, always making sure that not a single strand of hair touched his skin as to not steal even a single second from his life span. Aki soon felt that his heartrate increased and his cheeks became as warm as hell probably was, and for a moment he froze. "Nothing. I just like how you look." There was no way of knowing if what the devil said was the truth or just a lie, a way of manipulating him with his feelings— whatever it was that Angel was doing was working, and at any moment he would be able to steal the time he had left to live. Yet he didn't. Angel once again looked at him, at his face, and a little smile decorated his face as if he considered his companion beautiful. And there was no traces of malice in his gaze, just... genuine admiration. Aki looked in his pockets without thinking it, finding a glove that would cover his hand fully just to wrap an arm around the devil. The redhead brightened up in the same instant, and his smile could almost reach his ears, and a single word invaded the human's mind in that exact moment; beautiful. And if he smiled back, only the two of them would know it. The future devil knew too, but he didn't count.

#akiangel #aki hayawaka #angel devil #chainsaw man #chainsaw man fanfiction #i know these r short but im getting used to writing New Characters for New Fandom after hyperfixating on a naruto rarepair for 3 years lol #hope u understand thanks

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mikashisus · 3 months

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Thus Always To Tyrants

“i hope you live a life you’re proud of. if you find you’re not, i hope you have the strength to start all over again.”

— f. scott fitzgerald

summary: The story of a young woman and a young god who both had the unfortunate experience of getting trapped in a separate timeline.

pairing: venti/barbatos x fem!reader

content warnings: blood and injury, panic attacks, angst, mild foul language, suggestive themes. - (more will be added later if needed.)

other disclaimers: time travel au, mc making poor choices, mostly canon divergent, barbatos x previous cryo archon if u squint, there will be an alternative ending

cross-posted on ao3

chapter 1 wc: 8.8k

author’s notes: povs will switch around a lot, mainly between how the mc and venti both got stuck in alternate timelines and meet each other. venti’s pov will be first, followed by the mc. timeline in general is very choppy, with “future” events happening first, and “past” events happening after.

there will be an extra chapter at the end of the fic that will be an alternative ending. that’s all i’ll say for now as to not spoil the plot too much >:)

enjoy!

playlist

CHAPTER I: the moon will sing a song for me

It all started when Barbatos made the awful decision to cross through a stone arch near what would later be a historic landmark.

Ignoring the warnings that Istaroth had given him about traveling out this far, he let his curiosity get the better of him…

Which led to now.

Looking down at the hands that once held him so gently, he felt a deep, bitter sadness swell in his heart for the first time. His first friend, his first companion, had been killed in a war that he originally wanted no part in. A war that he came to fight in because he wished for the freedom of all the people of Mondstadt.

And look where that left him– desolate among a sea of corpses.

The putrid smell of rotting corpses and ash surrounded him, but all he could think about was the death of his friend. The lifeless, navy irises that always held the utmost gentleness in them. Slightly parted pale lips, that always used to promise freedom for all. An arrow straight through the heart of a person who always cared a little too much for others and never for themselves.

As Barbatos reached down to caress the bard’s cold skin, his heart dropped to his stomach. Reaching out before him was a human hand– a stark difference to what he was familiar with. It wasn’t until he realized that it was his hand, that he reeled back in absolute horror.

In a fit of disbelief, he raised the hand to his face, feeling all along the crevices and over his eyes. He was now possessing a human body, and it wasn’t just anyone’s body… but his friend’s.

As a piercing ringing resounded in his ears, a distant voice whispered in the silence. A warped and distorted, rough whisper that sent shivers down his spine.

“Welcome to the seat of the gods.”

In a flash of light and a moment of stillness, everything around him went silent. He screwed his eyes shut, a poor attempt to convince himself that this was not happening. That it was all a dream, and his friend was actually alive, and most importantly…

That he hadn’t just ascended to Celestia and achieved godhood.

He wasn’t special. He was merely a thread amongst the thousand winds, a small wind spirit that held no importance in the grand scheme of things. He hadn’t done anything noteworthy, nothing worth becoming a god for.

The tears that cascaded down his new human face fell to the grass like a waterfall. A flood of emotions seemed to overwhelm him, all piling onto his shoulders at once. For the first time, he understood just how powerful human emotion could be, and just how much it began to corrupt him.

That same, familiar distorted voice– closer this time –whispered in front of him, “You enter the garden of the gods, and the first thing you do is cry… how pitiful.” they scoffed. Two cold, pale hands gently grasped his cheeks and lifted his head to meet their gaze.

Two icy irises bore into his soul, chilling him to the bone. Long hair, as white as snow, fell along their shoulders elegantly. Pink lips twitched up into a somewhat sincere smile. She was like a goddess– maybe because that was actually what she was –and Barbatos found his heart beating a little too fast all of a sudden.

Her mere, chilly presence had calmed him down, and the tears on his cheeks froze over at her touch.

She pulled her hands back, “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to do that.”

With the softest of touches, she quickly wiped away the tears she had frozen. Without thinking, Barbatos nuzzled into her hand. The goddess gasped fleetingly, before a small giggle sounded from her lips.

“I’ve never met a god like you,” she muttered, kneeling down before him to hold his face better. Her smile faded to a frown as she caressed his cheek with her thumb. “Someone so broken… but I’ll fix you. Once we descend back to our respective nations, I will heal the scars in your heart.”

True to her word, as soon as Barbatos descended back to Mondstadt and blew away the ice and the snow, and hurled the mountaintops into the ocean, the goddess came to visit him. She kept him company, brought him food from her home to share with him. The two nations of the two gods grew close, before Barbatos fell into a deep slumber, only to be awoken again by a change in the winds.

The cycle of life was thrown askew. The skies grew confused, and the natural order of all things had paused, as if time had stopped. That’s when he heard the distant chiming of the old stone arch– the stone gate he had passed through at the start.

Someone new had passed through the gate, and now this series of events would change.

For a split moment, the world felt as if it was spinning. Tumbling and turning, twisting and lurching.

Your stomach tied into knots, and bile quickly crept up your throat. As soon as you thought that this might’ve been the end for you, everything came to a standstill.

The world itself seemed to pause for a second, and the silence that followed was deafening. The ringing in your ears continued to grow louder, and the pounding of a headache against your skull grew more prominent.

Wincing, you opened your eyes. As your vision cleared, the first thing you saw was the brightly lit night sky. Dozens upon dozens of stars, all glittering and shining brighter than any star you’ve ever seen. Was the night sky really ever this breathtaking before?

For a moment, you were convinced that you were not in Mondstadt anymore… however, the familiar scenery around you was too recognizable to not be Mondstadt.

You sat up, a wave of dizziness washing over you as you did. You were near the ruins of Old Mondstadt– but they looked oddly more put together than you last saw them. The tower and the stone bridges surrounding it weren’t nearly as broken as you knew them to be, and the wind barrier around the city was still in place.

Confused, you thought back to the legend you had heard before. The one about the old stone arch that would transport whoever passed through it to another timeline. You hadn’t thought it would actually be true, and now here you stood, looking at what was supposed to be the ruins of Decarabian’s city.

The most surprising of all was when you turned around to look at the city on the lake. Your eyes nearly popped out of your head.

The city was in the process of being constructed, and the gigantic tree in Windrise was but a sprout. Just how far back in the past did you travel?

To get a better look at the city, and maybe ask around, you began heading towards the settlement near Springvale. At least that small village would be familiar to you.

Springvale was bustling with people, much unlike how it was in your era. Since the people had nowhere to go right now– what with the city being freshly built –they had all scurried to Springvale. This was the busiest you’ve ever seen the usually small village.

“Look!” A woman shouted as she approached three other women. “I gathered some apples for the Anemo Archon! Do you think he’ll appreciate them?”

“Of course he will!” Another exclaimed, letting out a small giggle. “Lord Barbatos loves apples! Everyone in Mondstadt knows this!”

You thought back to how Mondstadt was in your current era– it was vastly different from this. In the present, the people of Mondstadt knew next to nothing about the Anemo Archon, except for two things: that he was gentle and kind, and gave the people of Mondstadt the freedom to govern themselves.

He had been absent from your era for about five hundred years or more. No one recognized his facial features anymore, and the statues littered around Mondstadt were vague in appearance at best.

You tried to think of how the people would react to his return… if he ever did return, that is. However, you came up empty. Maybe there would be excitement for his return, or maybe there would be resentment for his absence.

You did know one thing: the people deeply missed their archon, even if his absence meant that the people were free from the watchful eyes of a god. You were thankful for that freedom, even if you had always desired to meet the Anemo Archon.

When you were a child, your mother would always tease you, saying you should just marry him if you were that infatuated with him. You would then get upset at her accusations, claiming that you just admired him and his feats.

Who wouldn’t admire a god who fought for the freedom of the people of his nation?

“Sorry, coming through!” A man shouted as he passed you, carrying a stack of wooden planks on one shoulder. “Excuse me, pardon me! I have to get this to the Anemo Archon!”

The way these people spoke… you could’ve sworn that you’ve heard this accent before. You were inclined to believe that you were just being, as Diluc would say, “delusional” again, until a familiar voice caused all of your thoughts to turn to static.

“Let me help you,” A calm, boyish voice said.

The wind began to carry the wooden planks, and the people around you stopped whatever they were doing. They all muttered in excited voices, and as soon as you craned your neck to get a look at whatever it was that they were fussing over, you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

There was Venti, adorned in quite revealing white garments. Teal, glowing markings occupied his chest and thigh. The ends of his braids were also glowing, and bright, snow white wings stretched out behind him elegantly. His striking eyes seemed calmer, more relaxed than usual, and his lips were pulled up into a sweet smile. A cecilia with golden leaves was placed loosely in his hair.

His entire presence commanded heavenly respect, and you couldn’t help but assume that he was an angel sent directly from Celestia. Or maybe the human manifestation of a dove, sent down to bless the people.

“Lord Barbatos!” The man from before shrieked in surprise. “You needn’t worry yourself with this trivial matter, please just rest! You’ve done enough for us already! We are eternally grateful.”

It felt as if the air got knocked out of your lungs… did you hear that correctly? Did that man just refer to Venti as Barbatos? The Anemo Archon?

“Nonsense,” Barbatos chuckled. “I want to help you. Mondstadt is my home too, after all.”

You were witnessing history in the making. Barbatos, the Anemo Archon, was helping with the rebuilding of Mondstadt. You watched in awe as the god helped carry a surplus of materials, claiming they weren’t heavy because the wind made them weightless.

The people flocked to help him, even if he dismissed them, because no one was going to pass up this golden opportunity of speaking with their archon. They talked and laughed with him, baffled at how their god acted just like a normal person. Could a god really be this… human?

Barbatos had no problem instantly calming the fears of his people and helping them feel comfortable around him. It felt as though he didn’t favor the praise and adoration they constantly gave him, but he still greatly appreciated it nonetheless.

You managed to hide amongst the crowds for most of the day, but when sundown came, that was when your whole world flipped on its head.

You shuffled through the crowds of people in the plaza, carrying a rather hefty supply of food crates. You were used to this, as you often helped Diluc carry wine to and from the Dawn Winery. You always had your work cut out for you.

As you set the crates down near a camp of construction workers, a gust of wind blew your hair around. You huffed, pulling your hair back in place.

“I’ve never seen you in Mondstadt before,” a playful voice interrupted the silence.

You whirled around, only to be greeted by Barbatos standing before you. Well, more like he was currently weightless, as his wings kept him afloat in the air.

“And that’s surprising, seeing as I know every single one of my children by name– but I don’t know yours.”

You suddenly understood why Venti’s accent was so unfamiliar to you. It was that of the early Mondstadters– an accent that only a few of the major clans still possessed in your era. You felt like a fish out of water, not knowing what to possibly say to him.

What could you say? You had just found out that Venti was the Anemo Archon almost a whole day ago, as well as the fact that you had time traveled back to the early days of Mondstadt.

“Hm? Shy are we? Don’t worry, I don’t bite!” He laughed, trying to liven up the tense atmosphere between you. When he noticed that you still weren’t saying anything, he grew embarrassed. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to bother you—“

You stopped him before he could leave. “Wait! Uh, I’m sorry, actually. You just surprised me is all… um- my name is (name).”

He smiled softly at you. “Sorry for startling you before. And (name), hm? Your accent sounds oddly familiar… you must be a Mondstadt native.”

Nodding in confirmation, you returned his smile. “Indeed, I am.”

He seemed to be lost in thought, as he was biting his lip in contemplation. He had never seen you in Mondstadt before, yet your accent was similar to the people around you. That, and you were fluent in the language of the nation.

He had known every one of his children by name. He had memorized their dreams and aspirations, their favorite foods, and their current hobbies. He chatted with his people daily, as if he was speaking to an old friend, and he made sure that everyone in Mondstadt was comfortable. When it came to foreigners, he ensured that they felt welcomed and safe.

As long as the wind would blow, Mondstadt would know peace, and it would stand as a safe haven to those living here. He would make sure of it.

He smiled at you once more. As he studied you, his cheeks began to flush pink. “You’re rather pretty, (name).” He told you, taking one of your hands in his.

You were beyond disbelief now. The Barbatos, or Venti, from your time wanted absolutely nothing to do with you, yet the Barbatos standing before you seemed to be rather infatuated with you.

He kissed the back of your hand, the touch of his lips sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. He was quite the charmer, wasn’t he? The divine being in front of you held a boyish smile as he giggled at your flustered expression.

“Until we meet again, lovely dandelion.” In one large gust of wind, he disappeared, leaving a trail of feathers in his wake.

You picked up one of the snow white feathers left behind by his wings, running your fingers over the base. It was extremely soft, like silk. You hadn’t even been aware that there was a smile on your face, nor the fact that your heart was beating abnormally loud in your chest.

You just hoped that he hadn’t been able to hear it too.

There was an old legend in Mondstadt– one of a stone arch located in the ruins of Decarabian’s old city. Whoever passed through the gate would be transported through time and wind up in another era.

This urban legend had only become popular in recent years, when a bard by the name of Venti had begun to roam the streets of Mondstadt.

By the way he talked, and his distinct accent that was a little hard to pinpoint but definitely sounded close to the other people of the city, you quickly deduced that he was a Mondstadt native.

The bard that you originally believed to be around sixteen years old, was actually way older. You didn’t know his exact age, only that he was old enough to drink.

After the first few months of his arrival to the city, you found that he wasn’t just any normal bard. The songs that he sang predated the current era, and although many hymns in the church did the same, his songs were ones that no one had ever heard of before.

He claimed to know every song in Teyvat— from the primordial era, to all the way in the future. He held an air of playfulness and mischief around him, as well as a deep sorrow that could only come from someone who’s lived for centuries. He was eccentric and charming, and you were always happy to serve him at Angel’s Share.

To meet someone with such a wistful, happy aura was a blessing. It could even be considered a rarity in a world filled with strife, even if the people of Mondstadt knew peace and solace better than anyone else in Teyvat.

However, he was oddly bitter towards you.

The people in the city had noticed it not long after his first visit to the tavern— the stoic, weirdly long stares he’d send your way, how he’d always frown whenever he caught sight of you, and how he’d always make minimal talk with you.

No matter how hard you tried to get on his good side, it was never enough. He harbored a sort of resentment towards you, and for the life of you, you could not figure out why. You had a pretty good memory, and you couldn’t remember ever meeting him on any of your travels to other nations, nor in Mondstadt before he showed up here a few years ago.

What was his deal?

You placed a mug of dandelion wine on the table he was currently occupying. He was previously out cold, and you swore he had memorized your footsteps, because as soon as you set the mug down, he woke up. You flinched at his piercing stare, sending him a fleeting smile.

“Hey, have ya heard?” A drunkard at a nearby table asked loudly, grabbing your attention. You failed to notice the way Venti stared at you longingly as you turned away from him.

“There’s this legend of a stone arch that lets you time travel if you pass through it.”

“Oh? Pray tell.” you were suddenly intrigued, joining in on the conversation the patron was having with one of his friends.

Usually, you didn’t entertain the drunkards’ stories. They were mostly full of utter bullshit, but this one sounded interesting.

“Yeah!” the man laughed as you walked over. “Jus’ a legend though. Doubt it’s for real.” He took another swig of his drink before handing you the empty mug. “‘Nother round, doll.”

You sent him a glare for the pet name but took the mug, rolling your eyes as he ogled you as you walked away. A moment later, a crash sounded behind you. You whirled around to see what was happening, only to see the drunk man on the floor and Venti standing above him.

There was a deadly fire in his eyes, one that you’ve never seen before. For a moment, you felt scared— scared of this innocent bard and the vision hanging at his hip. He said nothing as the drunkard scurried out of the tavern like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Diluc sighed behind you. “That’s the fifth time this week,” he said, taking the empty mug from your hands and running it under the sink. “That bard has got to get ahold of that ugly temper.”

You turned to your boss. “What? But…” you turned to look at Venti again, only to see him staring at you with a sorrowful expression. Noticing he had been caught, he quickly looked away, picking up his lyre and exiting the tavern in a hurry.

What in the name of Barbatos..?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Diluc muttered. “But whenever you’re around, he turns protective. Are you sure the two of you were never together?”

You stood there in a dumbfounded silence. You couldn’t wrap your mind around the situation, finding it so utterly incredulous.

“Positive…” you trailed off, wondering why in the hell Venti was acting this way.

You paused. “Wait a second– did you really just–”

Diluc smirked, “Did I what?”

You decided to let the matter go. Instead, you changed the subject, opting for something more interesting. “Have you heard about that legend? The one of the stone arch that allows you to time travel?”

Your boss shrugged. “I’ve heard of it. I don’t think it’s worth checking out, so erase that idea from your mind.”

As always, Diluc knew you too well. Perhaps it was because the two of you were childhood friends… you even thought of him as your brother. You pouted, “C’mon Diluc, wouldn’t it be cool if it was actually true? Think about it: time travel!”

“I’d say you’re delusional— more than you usually are.” He quipped, navigating around you to put the empty mug back on the shelf behind you.

You turned to him, leaning your back against the counter. “You’re so boring. What happened to the rambunctious guy I knew when we were kids?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

Once upon a time, before the passing of his father, Diluc was quite the troublemaker. One would always believe that Kaeya had been that way instead, but it was actually the opposite. You knew them better than anyone.

You knew that Kaeya was once a shy, easily flustered boy that tripped over his own words and preferred to stay quiet. Diluc had been the opposite, always causing trouble around the winery and roping Kaeya into his tricks.

Among the three of you, you were often the voice of reason. Kaeya, although hesitant, always gave in to Diluc’s antics. However, you were the one always shutting down the ideas and warning them that they’d eventually get caught— but you never ratted them out. You would happily say “I told you so” and smirk after they performed the walk of shame after receiving a scolding.

Often times, you found yourself missing those days, when everything had been simpler and the three of you were still close. Crepus’ death had changed the entire relationship between the three of you, going from siblings to strangers in just one night.

Despite the change, you maintained a good relationship with both of them, even if they didn’t with each other. It always stung a bit to see the two brothers have such a poor sibling relationship when it hadn’t always been that way. And despite the bomb Kaeya dropped on you both, you still regarded him as your best friend regardless of his background.

“He grew up,” Diluc answered, sending you a pointed look, “and so should you.”

The trek to Old Mondstadt was a little more taxing than you expected. It was a little farther from the city than you imagined, even if you could vaguely see the ruins from the top of the cathedral.

In short, it looked closer than it actually was, but you didn’t mind the walk. It only meant that you got to appreciate Mondstadt’s gorgeous scenery in full. It also made you realize that you haven’t been out this way that much. The most you’ve been to were the outskirts of Wolvendom.

Of course, you never traveled further into those woods… you knew the legends, heard the rumors about Andrius, a god who was alive during the Archon War in Mondstadt 2,600 years ago. He fought against Decarabian and helped the people of Mondstadt break free from the tyrant’s rule.

Now, his soul resided in the soil, and the spirit of the god was the supposed King of the wolves in Wolvendom. He was rumored to be fairly peaceful. He rarely attacked anyone unless they stepped foot into his domain first and challenged him to a duel.

Unfortunately for you, you had to cross through Wolvendom to get to where you needed to go. Thankfully, you only needed to cross through the outskirts of Wolvendom and climb up to the top of the cliff near Brightcrown Canyon.

You made it out of Wolvendom in one piece, though you were spooked a few times by distant howling, in which you almost considered going back to the city. However, you prevailed and eventually made it up the cliff.

The view of the city from the summit was one of the most beautiful sights you have ever seen in your entire life. The scenery, paired with the view of all of Mondstadt, took your breath away. To top it all off, the wind was blowing– as it always did in Mondstadt.

As long as the wind would blow, Barbatos would protect Mondstadt.

That was always what your mother told you when you were young. Of course, you believed her, and you knew that the whole of Mondstadt believed the same.

The moon was high in the sky now, bright and full of life. You turned a bit, just enough to see the dark outline of Celestia in the sky.

“The garden of the gods,” was what you heard some people call it. You didn’t know if that was true or not.

The stone arch was right on the edge of the cliff, standing tall for all to see. There were ancient markings carved into the stone— markings that you’ve seen before near the Thousand Winds Temple. You wondered just how old these markings could be, as well as the stone arch itself. Despite looking like it was on the brink of falling apart, this gateway was still standing tall and proud.

As if it were sensing your presence, a small whisper called out to you from the other side of the archway. It was almost inaudible, but were it not for the slowing of the wind, it would have gone unheard.

You stepped closer, placing a hand on the archway. The stone was cold to the touch, but as you began to step through it, the markings on the stone started to glow a faint silver.

“WAIT!”

Someone yelled out behind you. You whirled around, and the glow of the markings faded. The whisper that once called out to you was gone, and the wind had returned in its full glory.

Venti now stood before you, a little out of breath and his expression panicked. His eyes searched you for a moment, as if relishing in the fact that you were standing right before his eyes. You’ve seen him do this every time you’re around him, and it never ceases to confuse you.

The two of you did not know each other. You have hardly even talked. Why was he constantly looking at you this way? Oh, what you would give to receive all the answers to your questions.

He was silent for a moment, and you patiently waited as he collected himself. He took a deep breath, and his expression grew firm. “Whatever you do, do not pass through that archway,” he said, his tone stern.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Why? The rumors about this archway are just legends–”

“Just please listen to me, (name). Do not go through that archway and do not touch those markings.” The look in his eyes was pleading you to listen to him.

“We’ve barely even talked, how do you know my name?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest. You were beyond confused now. “And whenever I get close to you, you glare at me like I’ve fucked up your entire life… seriously, what is going on? What have I ever done to you?”

Venti flinched a little, a guilty expression crossing over his visage. He looked away in embarrassment. “It doesn’t matter, it’s all ancient history…” he muttered, too quiet for you to hear.

“What?” you took a step closer to him.

He cleared his throat, “I said you didn’t do anything… I just…” he let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head. “Just please promise me you won’t go through the archway. If you go through, you’ll end up in a different era, just like the legends say… but you won’t be able to return home unless you cross back through the archway at the exact same time that you entered.

“The gate only opens once every one hundred years. If you cross through and don’t pass back through in twenty-four hours, you’re trapped there forever. And you can never return home.”

You stood there in shock. How did Venti know so much? It was as if he had witnessed it himself, though you doubted he did.

It was just a legend… right?

You scoffed. “It’s a stone archway… where could it possibly lead?” You walked over and stuck your hand through.

“DON’T!” Venti screamed, lurching forward to grab your arm before you could reach through the archway.

“Let go of me!” you yelled, prying his hand off of your arm. “Don’t touch me!”

“I’m trying to save you!” he retorted, wrapping his arms firmly around your waist, and with an unknown strength that you never expected him to have, began to pull you away.

You struggled like a little kid against his forceful grip, prying at his hands and kicking your feet around as he lifted you up. “Save me from what!? A gate that leads to nowhere!?”

“From our future, you dumbass!”

As you successfully kicked his shin, he doubled back, instantly letting go of you. You stumbled forward, only to hit the ground harshly as a weight fell onto your legs.

“What future!?”

You looked back, only to see that you were alone, and there was no trace of Venti anywhere to be seen.

You hadn’t known the full history of the Windblume Festival before this… “trip.”

You had always known that it was a festival celebrating love and working on self reflection. You had never personally received a windblume during the festival— at least, not from a romantic standpoint.

It was a tradition for you and Diluc to give each other windblumes each year, with you giving him a cecilia (your favorite flower) and him giving you a windwheel aster (a flower favored by the Ragnvindr Clan). The two of you were practically siblings, and Crepus always treated you like his daughter before his untimely death.

Ever since Crepus’ death, you had a tradition of walking to his grave during the Windblume Festival and placing a bouquet of cecilias on his grave. It wasn’t his official grave, but rather one you made for him. He was like the father you never had, and you were the daughter that he always wanted.

Sometimes, Kaeya would tag along with you during that time. He would always stay silent, giving his own respects to the man who also took him in and raised him as his own son. But Diluc would never join you, and you had always known the reason why.

As the reconstruction of Mondstadt was happening right before your very eyes, a man with dark hair passed you, shouting orders left and right. He bumped into you, causing you to stumble a little. Immediately, he whirled around, grabbing your arm before you could fall.

“My dear lady, I am so deeply sorry,” he said worriedly, his aristocratic tone all too familiar to you. You’d heard this type of accent before… but where?

“Are you alright, my dear?” he asked, holding you by the shoulders. He looked genuinely sorry, and you nodded hesitantly. “No, a silent answer won’t do… I need a verbal response to make sure you’re okay.”

This man was definitely making an impression on you. With his mindful manners, grace and elegance, and deep compassion. He was doing the bare minimum, and you would’ve fallen for him if it weren’t for the fact that he looked a little… too familiar.

You’ve seen this man before, you were sure of it.

“I-I’m alright, sir. Trust me.” You reflected his formalness right back at him. It was only right to do so.

He smiled a brilliantly charming smile. “Wonderful. Be careful now, My Lady. This year’s Windblume Festival will be quite the rage—“

“Lawrence!” Another man shouted.

A wave of shock hit you all at once. The man standing before you was the ancestor to the Lawrence Clan. The same Lawrence Clan that ruled over Mondstadt 1,000 years ago and enslaved Vennessa and her people. The same Lawrence Clan that continued the cycle of tyranny that Barbatos worked so hard to break. Eula’s clan. One of the oldest, original aristocratic families of Mondstadt.

You suddenly felt sick. But this man didn’t seem like the other Lawrence Clan members that you’ve met. This man seemed different, and you considered that maybe the evil had prospered after this man’s time.

“My apologies, I must go,” The Lawrence Clan ancestor left with a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, a small smirk following after.

You visibly shuddered. You didn’t find that man attractive anymore, and you’d rather keel over than experience him kiss your hand again. You usually weren’t one to judge others based on your first meeting or their background, but something about him being the ancestor to the Lawrence Clan just didn’t sit right with you.

Of course, you knew that not all of the members of the clan were terrible people– Eula being a great example –but the majority were. You made a mental note to watch your back for the time being, even if your gut was telling you that this man was not the cause for the Lawrence Clan’s poor actions.

Turning on your heel, you decided to pay a visit to where Crepus’ grave would be if you were still in your own era. You made quick work to leave the bustling city, weaving around people carrying boxes of wreaths made of flowers, and layers upon layers of fabrics. They were most likely decorations for the festival.

You hadn’t expected the land to look so different. It looked more barren than you knew it to be, more lonely, relaxed, and less populated. The terrain of Mondstadt was vastly different from what you knew it to be. Of course, lands changed with time due to various factors, but it never changed this fast.

The culprit for the immense change in recent years had been none other than Spark Knight Klee, an adorable little girl that the Knights of Favonius all watched over since her mother, Alice, was currently away on business. Klee was prone to disaster, as was a teenage boy by the name of Bennett, but the two carried different forms of disaster.

Bennett’s was in the form of bad luck and misfortune. Klee’s was in the form of pure chaos and destruction due to the bombs she created on the daily. Her impact on the land caused Mondstadt’s landscape to change so much that the cartographers had to redraw maps for the Knights every few weeks.

Right before your eyes was a Mondstadt completely untouched, with smoother cliffs and purer water sources. There was a surplus of trees and boar too.

From what you gathered so far, it had been a year since Mondstadt gained its freedom from the tyrant, Decarabian.

One month was spent with Barbatos terraforming the land and making it habitable for his people. Five months were spent mourning the losses of the rebellion and retreating towards Cider Lake to find a place to settle down. The other six months were spent rebuilding the city and healing from the scars that were left on the nation. That’s when the Windblume Festival was created, honoring those who had fallen during the rebellion.

The months following were filled with Barbatos’ helpful hand guiding the people and making them happy again after years of sorrow. And that led to now, a year and a half after the events that changed Mondstadt forever.

The land near the present day Dawn Winery was completely different from how you remembered it to be. There was no Dawn Winery yet, and the area was covered in trees. A few small houses lined the outskirts of the forest; houses that were still presently standing in the future.

A flood of memories washed over you as you reached the bank of the river– memories from your childhood. Memories of fishing here with Crepus, where he had taught you how to bait a hook, and when he would celebrate every time you successfully caught a fish.

Memories of stargazing here with Diluc every Summer, when the night sky was so clear that you swore you could see the whole of the galaxy. Afternoons spent here with Kaeya, watching as the sky filtered from brilliant blues to striking oranges and pinks, laughing together as you both skipped stones and relished in your youth.

Mornings spent with Jean, helping her improve her swordsmanship and denying her wishes for you to join the Ordo because of how naturally adept you were with a sword.

Sometimes, Jean would pull you out here at night just to stargaze, and sometimes the both of you would go swimming in the river with nothing but your undergarments on. You’d try your best to stay quiet and not get caught by the occasional knight patrolling the area, but Jean’s hands on your body never failed to make you a bit noisy.

You were eighteen, maybe nineteen, back then.

You greatly missed the golden years of your life, when everything seemed simpler, and all you had to worry about was impressing the girl of your dreams. Little did you know at the time, but you had done that already.

You’d give anything to go back and change what happened between you… to tell her your true feelings and avoid that fateful day in the rain. The day that changed the relationship between you two forever.

The smile adorning your lips faded. You missed Jean very dearly… but you couldn’t go back and change the past.

Kneeling beside the river, you began to quietly sob. You had a chance to go back to any time period, and it just so happened to be this one. Why couldn’t it have been that day in the rain, when you and Jean called it quits and broke each other down to nothing. You’d give anything to go back and take back everything you said that day.

Yet… you ended up here. Directly after the Archon War ended.

If you had the power, you would cross through that gate once more, only to cross through it again and hope you landed on that day in the rain.

A sudden idea formed in your head, along with a startling revelation.

You only had five hours left to cross back through that gate, or else you were stuck here for the rest of your life. With a newfound panic running through your veins, you hurried back to the city to keep better track of your time, and to hopefully draw your mind away from painful memories.

An hour remained before the gate closed for another one hundred years, and you were currently entertaining the head of the Lawrence Clan and his sister.

When you had returned to the city four hours prior, you were hellbent on finding something to snack on and maybe swipe some sort of souvenir to bring back to Kaeya, when the Lawrence Clan’s ancestor spotted you and demanded you join him and his sister for a few rounds of drinks.

Ever the alcohol enthusiasts that you knew Mondstadters to be, you caved and decided to join them just for a little while. A “little while” turned into four hours as you downed drink after drink, your tolerance so high that you could withstand all the alcohol.

You were by no means an alcoholic, and you always managed your liquor quite well, but Mondstadt was known for its wine, and the people practically had wine and beer flowing through their veins. You would not be able to call yourself a true Mondstadter if it were not for how high your tolerance to alcohol was.

Amidst the festivities, more of the townspeople joined in, uncasking wines and sharing them graciously amongst each other. The homey-ness of the atmosphere and the bright lanterns hanging from above your head provided you with a sense of familiarity and comfort.

This was Mondstadt.

Peaceful, familiar, comforting, relaxing, and free.

You were glad to know that Mondstadt had not changed a bit over the years. Even in the past, it was the same old city you knew– the same old country you were born in and loved with all your heart. Your father’s city.

A sudden gust of wind rattled through the plaza, prompting the townspeople to laugh in pure joy and bliss. Next to you, Lawrence (you decided to only refer to him by his last name), raised his mug of wine high into the air.

“To the Anemo Archon!”

The rest of the people followed after, and so did you. With a brilliant smile on your face, you raised your mug of beer. “To the Anemo Archon!”

It really was like you never truly left.

Halfway through the last hour, you could tell that time was ticking. You had to leave immediately, or else you would never see your friends or family ever again.

You’d never get to witness another Windblume Festival or Weinlesefest with the people you dearly loved, you’d never get to see Klee’s magnificent smile or help Bennett out with another commission. You’d never get to challenge Fischl to another game of TCG or be there to welcome Collei home from Sumeru. You’d never get to prepare another drink in the tavern or listen as bards filled the tavern with lively music and got the patrons to sing as loud as they could. You’d never go stargazing again with Kaeya, or go out drinking again with Eula on a night off. You’d never get to help Razor with his reading or writing, or have a daily chat with Sara in the morning as she clocked in at Good Hunter.

You’d never get to challenge Amber to a game of Pile ‘Em Up during Ludi Harpastum, or present a brilliant bouquet of cecilias as an offering to the huge statue of Barbatos towards the end of the Windblume Festival while Kaeya joked that you were a show off. You’d never get to send Jean another envelope of dandelion seeds every Spring whenever you took your annual trip to the Dandelion Sea.

…You’d never get to witness another one of Venti’s performances in the plaza underneath his own statue.

You didn’t realize just how much you cherished everything until this moment, when you were about to lose it.

“Why the frown? It’s hardly the time to be sad when others are celebrating!” A joyous voice brought you out of your stupor. Next to you was none other than him, the Anemo Archon. His smile widened as you met his eyes.

The townspeople greeted him as if he were an old friend, and he quickly returned the gesture, swiping a glass of dandelion wine and taking a lengthy sip. “Ah! This year’s Thousand Wind Wine is delicious!”

Thousand Wind Wine?

“Please join us in the festivities, Lord Barbatos!” someone jumped up, offering him another glass of wine.

He eagerly took it as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Why thank you! However, I have some urgent business to attend to. As soon as I return, I will be more than happy to join all of you for a multitude of drinks!”

The people cheered and threw praises his way. He pulled you closer to him, “Hold on tight,” he muttered. You did as told as he flapped his wings and took off into the air.

You held back a screech as you screwed your eyes shut and clutched onto him tighter. If it were not for your fear of heights, you would’ve been panicking over something completely different: the fact that you were currently being held in the Anemo Archon’s arms as he flew through the sky.

He chuckled, “I’m a safe flier, I promise. I won’t drop you.”

The moment he placed you back onto the ground, you let out a sigh of relief that you didn’t realize you were holding in and collapsed to the ground. “If anyone had told me that the Anemo Archon was going to take me for a flight, I never would’ve believed them.”

Barbatos laughed heartily, holding out a hand for you to take. Under the light of the moon, he was practically glowing. Your breath got caught in your throat as you stared at his ethereal form.

This was the angelicity of a god.

You took his hand, his skin soft to the touch. He brought you back onto your feet effortlessly. As soon as you gathered your bearings, you glanced around. You were right where you wanted to be: by the stone arch, and with only a few minutes to spare.

Turning to Barbatos, you sent him a quizzical look. How had he known?

He smiled, though you found that it did not reach his eyes. “I hear every whisper amongst the wind, every prayer to my name, every tip in the balance…” he trailed off. You could sense there was something else he wanted to add to that, but didn’t.

“I knew you weren’t from this timeline from the beginning.”

So he had known all along… but how? You surmised that it was because nothing escaped the eyes of the gods. Or maybe it was exactly as he said– that he could hear every little thing along the wind.

“So you know, then…” you sighed heavily. “I’m sorry for causing a disturbance, Lord Barbatos. I never meant to-”

His smile broadened as he gently shushed you. You never expected a god to be this kind, nor this patient. He truly lived up to the legends that circulated around the city in your era. He took your hand into his, squeezing it lightly.

“There’s no need to apologize, (name).” His voice was soft as he spoke, as if he were talking to an upset child. “I assume you landed here in the first place because of something to do with me…” His expression turned to a guilty one.

Your brows furrowed. “Something to do with you?” you asked curiously.

He nodded solemnly. “I am the one that is supposed to be guarding this gate, to ensure that no one ever passes through ever again. Yet… since you are here, that means my future self has failed at this job. I failed to protect a citizen of Mondstadt…”

He looked to be on the verge of a breakdown, but before he could completely lose his composure, he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. A moment later, it was as if he hadn’t been worried in the first place. He guided you over to the gate.

“I still have a chance to save you. Go, before it’s too late.”

As soon as he let go of your hand and bid you a small farewell, promising to remember you in the future once you returned to your current era, you placed a hand on the archway and watched as the markings engraved into the stone glowed a bright silver.

You’d be going home, back to your friends and your family– and a timeline where Venti hated you. You stopped suddenly, pausing as you opened your eyes and glanced back at the image of Barbatos. He was waiting, wanting to make sure you returned safely to your own time.

You glanced at the city, at where the newly built settlement was thriving and teeming with people. You took the small souvenir you grabbed for Kaeya out of your pocket– a keychain with a windwheel aster engraved into the stone. When your eyes landed on this in the plaza hours ago, you knew you had to get it for him. It was perfect, since he was always losing his keys and never had anything attached to them to make them stand out.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, pressing a kiss to the cold stone, before tossing the keychain through the archway, along with the note you had written out for him describing the gift and why you found sentimental value in buying it for him.

You watched as both the keychain and the note disappeared, landing on the other side of the archway– your era.

You clutched onto the last remaining thing you had of your era: the ring that Jean had once given you when you were fifteen. The one with a cecilia and dandelions carved into the inside.

“Please don’t go looking for me.”

Venti gritted his teeth together as he gripped tightly onto the letter in his hands. Tears cascaded down his cheeks. He had lost you. Again.

And now, the last remnants he had of you was a small note that wasn’t addressed to him. He dug his fingers into the grass underneath him, choking out a few sobs that he had been holding in for way too long now.

Why did this keep happening to him? Every time he thought he had gotten you back, you’d leave again, just like the very first time. Were the two of you fated to keep playing this game? To keep running through the motions of cat and mouse, as Venti suffered the after affects while you completely forgot about all of it?

He hadn’t meant to cross through that gate all those years ago, and had he known that it would bring him this much pain, he wouldn’t have done it. He would’ve stayed with Istaroth. Digging his nails into the dirt, he couldn’t help the self deprecation that took over his mind and body.

Why hadn’t he heeded Istaroth’s warning? Why hadn’t he listened and just stayed behind like she told him to do?

“Curiosity killed the cat,” that was the saying. But in this situation, there was no satisfaction to bring it back.

His heart grew heavy as he waited yet again to see you pass through that gate. To see you return with no ounce of remorse in your expression, just like you had done countless times before.

He angrily brushed his tears away and waited, staring out at the first signs of morning light that crept up over Falcon Coast. The redness of his cheeks and his eyes did not go unnoticed by you as you stepped through the gate, staring at him with that stoic expression that you always gave him.

He met your eyes, watching as they began to water and your lip began to tremble. This time must’ve hurt way more than the others. You had never returned with this kind of reaction before, startling him.

You said nothing as you stood there, clutching a feather in your hand. He swallowed thickly, recognizing that feather anywhere. It was the one he always gave to you, and the one you always returned with. Except this time, there was also a keychain in your hands– made out of gold and shaped into the anemo sigil.

Suddenly, a wave of new memories flooded his brain, and as soon as he made eye contact with you again, he knew that you had found out. The memory of him telling you passed by like a flash in his mind, and his frown deepened.

How could things have ended the same way once again?

There was a silent agreement between the both of you as you sent him a curt nod and took the note that was crumpled in his fist. He watched as you retreated back to the city, his vision blurring with another set of tears.

He would never get used to this pain, and he knew you wouldn’t either. But the pain he felt every time you left him was insurmountable.

Wiping away his tears, he watched as the sun continued to rise over the horizon. The two of you would meet again one day, maybe in a timeline where you didn’t leave him and the two of you lived happily together, relishing in the peacefulness of Mondstadt– the nation the two of you once worked hard to build.

Maybe next time, you wouldn’t be returning like this, like a stranger.

author’s notes:

yes it was the og cryo archon that barbatos first met upon entering celestia. it was originally going to be the heavenly principles, but then i changed it midway thru writing.

can’t catch me now by olivia rodrigo is the song that represents this fic the most. like, that is exactly the theme im going for with this fic, and u guys will see that in the last chapter when the ending is finally written.

(shhhh no i totally didnt already write the ending in this chapter. there will be a more descriptive ending in chapter 3 that will make more sense than the one ive already put in chapter 1.)

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin venti #venti x reader #genshin x reader #angst #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya alberich #jean gunnhildr #zhongli #time travel au #old mondstadt era #npcs for plot purposes #— thus always to tyrants 🪴

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