#((In his canonic timeline he died and never knew the truth))

[blood--king]

Kauze had found some paper and pens, so he decided to draw something for Hell, as soon as he finished, the little boy left the drawing on top of the King's paperwork and left the place.

When you're in neuroanatomy class and you end up getting bored lol my drawings you can tell I was dying lol 🫣🫣🫣

It was a tough day for the king, the kingdom had problems and tension with a neighboring kingdom, the sworn enemy of the vampire nation, the Lycans. Hell sat down in front of his meeting table with all his paperwork, and there he found the drawing.

—Hmm, he likes to draw —Thought the king as he saw it. It was cute and reminded him of his father who apparently loved drawing. The vampire king showed a smile and felt a bit of calm before continuing with all that work.

[kiwriteswords]

Tonight, you’re on my mind, so you’ll never know…

Chapter Two Out of Four (Possibly Five!)

Masterlist || Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 7k

Tags/Warnings: Canon-typical themes, sexual themes, hurt/comfort, angst, pining, mutual pining, spoilers for Criminal Minds seasons 1-12, friends to lovers, first-time, loss of virginity, grief, trauma, timeline of 8 year old!Hotch—Post CM!Hotch–please let me know if I am missing anything!

Sypnosis: Years have passed since you and Aaron Hotchner first crossed paths, but the connection you shared has never truly faded. In the wake of personal loss and career demands, your lives have taken different directions, leaving unresolved feelings and unspoken words lingering in the background. As fate pulls you back into each other’s orbit, you must navigate the delicate balance between duty, grief, and the possibility of rekindling something you thought was lost forever. In a world of danger, distance, and emotional walls, will you and Aaron finally confront the past—or let it slip away once more?

When Haley died, not long after you saw him, you felt the earth shift beneath your feet. 

You had known Aaron long enough to understand how much he loved her, how fiercely he had fought to keep her and Jack safe. The news of her death reached you like a punch to the gut, and you knew—without a doubt—that Aaron would never be the same.

You couldn’t bring yourself to go to the funeral, though you thought about it, agonized over it, until your hands shook with indecision. You wanted to be there, to offer your support, to let him know he wasn’t alone in this unbearable grief. 

But every time you imagined standing among the mourners, watching Aaron from a distance, you felt like an intruder on his pain, an uninvited ghost from his past.

Instead, you sent flowers—a beautiful, understated arrangement of white lilies and roses. You knew it wasn’t enough; it could never be enough. But it was all you could bring yourself to do. 

You wrote a simple note to accompany them: Thinking of you and Jack. I’m so sorry for your loss. – Y/N. 

As you sealed the envelope, you wondered if he’d even know they were from you, if he’d understand that behind those few words was an ocean of sorrow and regret, that you were mourning for him too.

The truth was, you never stopped thinking about him. You thought about him constantly—especially at night, when the world was quiet and you were left alone with your thoughts. You wondered how he was holding up, how he was managing to be strong for Jack when his own heart was shattered. You imagined him sitting alone in the dark, trying to keep it together for his son, and it broke you in ways you didn’t have words for.

The business card he’d left for you all those years ago was still tucked away in your desk drawer. Every now and then, you’d pull it out and trace your finger over his name, over the number that you’d never dialed. 

There had been so many nights when you’d come close, phone in hand, his number half-dialed, your thumb hovering over the call button. But each time, you hesitated, thinking that maybe too much time had passed, that maybe reaching out now would only complicate things, reopen old wounds.

You were terrified that he’d think you were only calling out of pity or obligation, not realizing that you never stopped caring, that you never stopped wanting to be part of his life. 

So, you let the moment slip through your fingers, again and again, convincing yourself that staying silent was the best way to honor the memory of what you’d once had.

You could confidently say you were strong on all accounts, but the heartbreak that haunted you like a ghost caused by what could have been was a bear you did not want to poke or agitate more than already occurred. 

What you didn’t know was that Aaron had been waiting for that call. He’d left his number for you because he thought—he hoped—that maybe you still felt something, that maybe you’d reach out when the time was right. 

But as the days turned into weeks, and then into months, with no word from you, he took your silence as a sign of disinterest, as confirmation that whatever feelings you’d once had for him were buried and gone.

He convinced himself that you had moved on with your life, that you were happy and content without him, and the thought of that hurt more than he ever let himself admit. He buried his feelings for you the way he buried everything else that hurt too much to face—deep inside, behind walls that even he couldn’t always tear down.

In the days after Haley’s funeral, Aaron Hotchner’s world felt like it had been turned inside out. He moved through the motions, numb and detached, his focus entirely on Jack and keeping his son’s shattered world from falling apart. Grief clung to him like a heavy fog, clouding every thought, every breath. It wasn’t until the house finally emptied of well-meaning guests, leaving him alone with Jack’s quiet sobs in the middle of the night, that he allowed himself to truly feel the weight of it all.

Amid the sea of sympathy cards, casseroles, and flower arrangements that had been left behind, there was one that caught his eye—a simple, understated arrangement of white lilies and roses. 

Something about the elegance and restraint of it made him pause, a flicker of recognition passing through his mind. He reached for the card tucked into the blooms, the handwriting familiar in a way that made his breath hitch.

Thinking of you and Jack. I’m so sorry for your loss. – Y/N.

Aaron stood there, the note trembling slightly in his hand. For a moment, he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He read those words over and over again, feeling each letter like a whisper from a life he’d tried so hard to bury. You had sent them. 

Of all the people who might have reached out, it was you. The person who had once been his anchor, the one who always seemed to understand him in ways no one else ever could.

He ran his thumb over your name on the card, his mind swirling with a thousand thoughts he didn’t know how to untangle. Behind those few words, he could feel everything you hadn’t said—an ocean of sorrow, regret, and something deeper that he’d never been able to fully let go of. It was all there, hidden between the lines, like a message meant only for him.

He thought back to all those nights when he would sit alone in the darkness, the crushing weight of grief threatening to pull him under. He had tried to be strong for Jack, to hold it together for his son, but there were moments when the pain was too much, when the silence of the house echoed with memories of Haley and all the things he couldn’t change. 

And now, in the midst of that grief, knowing that you were out there somewhere, thinking of him—mourning with him—made it all the more unbearable.

The truth was, he had been waiting for something from you. Anything. A sign that you still cared, that he wasn’t alone in his grief. 

He had left his business card with you all those years ago, hoping that maybe you would reach out when the time was right. He had clung to the idea that you’d still feel something when you saw his number, that you’d dial it when you were ready.

But as the days turned into weeks, and then into months, and still he heard nothing, Aaron convinced himself that your silence was his answer. That whatever feelings you’d once had for him were buried under the weight of time and lost chances. 

He told himself that you were happy, that you had moved on, built a life that didn’t include him. It was a thought that hurt more than he’d ever let himself admit—a pain that he buried deep, behind walls he couldn’t afford to let crack.

What he didn’t know was that, in the quiet of your own nights, you held that same business card in your hands, your fingers tracing the letters of his name over and over again. That there were countless moments when you almost called, when his number hovered on your screen, and you hesitated—not because you didn’t want to reach out, but because you were terrified of what you might find on the other end of the line. That your silence wasn’t indifference, but fear of reopening old wounds, of complicating a life that seemed to have settled without you in it.

As he stood there, looking down at the lilies and roses you had sent, Aaron felt a wave of regret so intense it threatened to break him apart. He wished you had fought for him, wished you had asked him to pick you back when he still had the chance to choose. He had always believed that if you’d only said the words, if you had only asked him to stay, he would have done it in a heartbeat.

But now, in the quiet aftermath of his grief, he realized that he had been waiting for a sign from you all along—a sign that never came. And in its absence, he’d built a life that looked whole on the outside but felt empty on the inside. A life where the memory of you was always there, lingering just beneath the surface, like a song he could never forget.

He stared down at the flowers one last time, his fingers brushing over the petals, and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He had spent so much of his life building walls, hiding the pain behind a stoic facade. 

But now, in this moment of raw vulnerability, he let himself feel it all—the longing, the regret, the love he’d never quite let go of. And he knew, with a clarity that cut straight through his grief, that the only thing worse than losing Haley was knowing that he had lost you, too.

Because he had loved you then, in ways he never fully let himself admit. And a part of him still loved you now, even if it was too late to say it.

It did not take much to snap him out of the moment, though. Duties called--ones far greater and more significant than anything a badge could offer: Fatherhood. He knew he had to step up to the plate as a father, but more so now, trying to fill the very empty shoes Haley once wore. 

After Haley's death, Aaron found himself sitting in the dim light of his office late at night, the house silent except for the faint sound of Jack sleeping down the hall. 

He stared at his phone, your name already typed into the message field, his thumb hovering over the keys. The grief was suffocating, pressing on his chest in a way that made it hard to breathe, but you were the only person who had ever made that weight feel lighter. 

He started to type, the words fumbling through his mind—I don’t even know how to begin...—but then he stopped, his hand trembling as the memory of Haley’s last moments flooded his thoughts. 

Haley had been there through every transition, through the chaos of law school and the early days of his career. With her, things made sense. Their relationship was built on stability, on a history that he didn’t have with anyone else.

Even now, sitting in the quiet of his apartment, he knew that choosing Haley wasn’t just about love—it was about the life they had built together. It was about Jack, about providing a family, about keeping the promises he had made. Haley was his constant, the person who helped him stay grounded when the weight of the world felt too heavy. 

With you, it had always felt like a choice he couldn’t afford to make, because choosing you meant tearing apart everything he had already built.

It wasn’t the right time. He wasn’t ready, and maybe, he told himself, neither were you. 

With a quiet, resigned sigh, he deleted the message, tucking the phone away as the loneliness of the night settled back in.

It wasn’t long until you found yourself in the same shoes, your finger hovered over Aaron’s contact, hesitation gnawing at you. Before you could overthink it, you pressed the call button. After a few rings, someone answered, but it wasn’t Aaron’s familiar voice.

“BAU, Agent Morgan.”

You froze for a moment, taken aback. “Hi... I was looking for Aaron. Is he available?”

“He’s not here right now, he’s overseas on an assignment,” Morgan replied, his tone polite but measured, offering no further details. “Can I take a message?”

You hesitated, a lump forming in your throat. “No, that’s okay. Please don’t tell him I called. It’s nothing urgent.” 

As you ended the conversation and the call, a sense disappointment washed over you. Your thoughts were taken over by your door bell ringing. The guy you decided to give a chance--the nice guy who looked good on paper, you finally agreed to a first date. 

Here goes nothing, you thought.

The next time you saw Aaron was years later. By then, you were the head of trauma surgery at a major hospital near the BAU headquarters. 

You’d built a life for yourself that you were supposed to be proud of—rising through the ranks, saving lives every day—but even with all your success, something always felt like it was missing. You told yourself that you were over Aaron, that your feelings for him were relics of a past life. But some part of you knew that wasn’t true.

You had moved back to D.C., you couldn’t stay away. The call to return too great to ignore. In some weird ways you wondered in the back of your mind if that pull was him. 

Then, one afternoon, you got the call that changed everything. Agent Hotchner had collapsed, from internal bleeding and he was being rushed into your ER. The words echoed in your mind, your world narrowing to a single point as you tried to process them. 

Your hands shook as you gave the order for your team to take over, citing a conflict of interest that left your colleagues glancing at each other in confusion.

You looked over his chart and felt as if the years you had missed were being connected through Aaron’s traumatic medical chart. Damaged hearing, a stabbing…it was all too much. 

You watched from just outside the trauma room, your eyes fixed on Aaron’s pale face as your team worked to stabilize him. 

Your heart ached with the sight of him lying there, vulnerable and unconscious, so different from the strong, composed man you remembered. The urge to be by his side, to hold his hand and reassure him, was almost overwhelming. 

But the weight of all the years of silence, regret, and missed chances pressed down on you, keeping you frozen in place.

After a few tense moments, you saw the rest of his team gather in the waiting area, anxiously watching their fallen leader through the glass. They looked worried, their bond with him clear in their expressions. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you decided you couldn’t leave things unfinished, not again.

You approached them slowly, the sterile hallway stretching out before you as you made your way to the gathered group of agents. 

Your white coat felt heavier with each step, like it carried the weight of your past along with the present. When you finally reached them, you offered a small, professional smile, even though your nerves were betraying you.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Y/N L/N," you said, your voice calm and steady despite the swirl of emotions beneath the surface. "I’m the head of trauma surgery here. I wanted to let you know that we’re doing everything we can for Agent Hotchner."

The team turned their attention to you, a mix of relief and curiosity flickering in their eyes. Penelope Garcia stepped forward first, her expression softening with gratitude and something close to desperation. "Thank you, Doctor," she said, her voice tinged with raw emotion. "He’s… he’s one of us, you know? We’d be lost without him."

You hesitated for a moment, your gaze drifting to the floor before looking back up to meet their eyes. 

"I actually know Aaron," you said, the admission almost surreal after all this time. "We go way back—grade school, actually. We lost touch for a while but reconnected in college. We were close for a time before life took us in different directions."

As soon as you said those words, you noticed the subtle shift in their expressions. David Rossi’s eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of recognition lighting up his features. He exchanged a knowing glance with Derek Morgan, who raised his eyebrows in surprise. Rossi’s lips curved into a small, intrigued smile.

"Wait a second," Rossi said, his voice carrying that signature blend of curiosity and understanding. "You’re the one from that photo on Hotch’s bookshelf, aren’t you? The old picture from his college days. We always wondered about the story behind it."

You felt your cheeks flush slightly, caught off guard by the revelation that they knew about the photo. The same picture Aaron had kept all these years, the one you didn’t even know was still a part of his life. You nodded, a soft, bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. 

"I guess I am," you said quietly, your voice tinged with a touch of nostalgia. "We were close once, a long time ago."

Penelope’s eyes widened in surprise, her mouth dropping open slightly as she glanced back at Rossi and then at you. 

"Oh my gosh," she said, shaking her head slowly. "We’ve all seen that photo a million times and tried to guess who you were. He never talks about it—never mentioned you, not once. But I guess that’s typical Hotch, huh?"

You gave a tight smile, your gaze softening as you thought of Aaron’s habit of keeping his deepest feelings locked away, even from the people closest to him. 

"That sounds like him," you said, your voice laced with a fondness you couldn’t quite hide. "He’s always been good at keeping his mystery."

There was a moment of silence as the team absorbed the significance of what you’d just shared. It was as though a small piece of the puzzle that was Aaron Hotchner had suddenly fallen into place for them. They knew he didn’t open up easily, and to learn that you were someone important from his past felt like they were being let in on a part of his life they never fully understood.

With a slight hesitation, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper with your personal phone number written on it. You held it out to Penelope, feeling like you were offering up a piece of your own heart.

"When he wakes up," you said, carefully controlling the tremor in your voice, "could you give this to him? Just tell him that I was here and that I thought he might want to reach out, if he feels like it."

You knew you could call. Life seemed too chaotic for Aaron and you did not want to be an inconvenience. You wanted the ball to be in his court--you wanted him to make the move. You didn’t want to burden him. 

Penelope took the paper from you with a tenderness that surprised you, her eyes softening with empathy. She looked at you like she understood more than she was letting on, like she could see the layers of unspoken history between you and Hotch. 

"I’ll make sure he gets it," she said, her voice warm with kindness. "And, for what it’s worth, I think he’d want to know you were here."

You offered her a grateful nod, but the moment felt heavy, like you were leaving something unsaid, something lodged in the space between who you were and who you used to be. With one last glance at the group, you turned and walked away, each step feeling like you were tearing yourself from a past that refused to let go.

You stood just outside the hospital room, your hand resting on the doorframe, watching through the small glass window as Aaron lay unconscious. 

Every instinct told you to go in, to sit by his side, to be there for him like you had been so many years ago. But something held you back—something more than the sterile walls of the hospital. 

It was the weight of everything he had been through. Haley’s death. Raising Jack alone. His life was already so heavy, and you couldn’t bear the thought of adding another layer of complexity to it. 

Was it selfish to want to see him? To reconnect, knowing how much he had already lost? 

Your pulse quickened, your heart warring with your mind. You weren’t sure if stepping back into his world would heal old wounds or tear them open again.

Inside the room, Aaron stirred slightly, but he didn’t know you were there, just beyond the door. 

Even in the haze of pain and medication, his mind circled back to Jack—his first thought always his son, as it had been ever since Haley’s death. 

He had built his life around being a father, and any decisions, even those tied to lingering feelings for you, had to take that into account. He had pushed his emotions down for years, focusing on what Jack needed, on what the job demanded. 

But lying there in the quiet of the hospital room, his thoughts kept drifting to you. What would it mean to let you back into his life, to let himself feel again, after everything he had lost? Could he afford that risk? Jack needed stability, not more upheaval, and Aaron wasn’t sure if he could be both—Jack’s anchor and someone who opened his heart again.

You lingered for another moment, torn between wanting to reach for the handle and the fear of disrupting a life that wasn’t yours to complicate. 

In the end, you stepped back, leaving the connection between you suspended, unresolved. You weren’t sure if it was the right decision, but you told yourself that staying away was what Aaron needed, even if it wasn’t what you wanted.

You waited until Aaron was stable and as you left the hospital that night, your mind raced back to the picture Rossi had mentioned—the one of you and Aaron from those college days. The fact that he’d kept it all these years, through everything, felt like a thread that still connected your lives, no matter how far apart you’d drifted. 

But when you went home to your fiancé—a man who was kind and stable, the kind of man you thought you needed—you couldn’t shake the image of Aaron lying in that hospital bed. And you realized, with a dull ache in your chest, that a part of your heart had never really stopped waiting for him to come back to you.

As the night wore on, the realization hit you like a wave crashing over your carefully built defenses. You were living a lie. You couldn’t marry this man, not when your heart had always been tied to someone else, someone who still held a piece of you after all these years. 

You broke it off with your fiancé, your voice shaking as you told him that he deserved someone who could love him completely. It was one of the hardest things you’d ever done, but you knew it was the right decision.

When Aaron Hotchner finally woke up, the bright lights of the hospital room made him squint, his head pounding with the remnants of his collapse. As his vision cleared, he saw Penelope Garcia sitting by his side, her face lighting up with relief the moment his eyes opened.

"Aaron, thank goodness!" Penelope exclaimed, her voice wobbling with emotion. "You scared the hell out of us. Don’t you ever do that again!"

He offered her a faint smile, trying to sit up despite the weakness in his limbs. "I’ll do my best," he said, his voice hoarse. "What happened?"

Penelope filled him in on the details of his condition, but then her expression shifted, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Oh, and by the way, you had a visitor," she said, a little smile playing on her lips. "Dr. Y/N L/N, the head of trauma surgery. She was here when they brought you in. The one I looked up for you all those years ago!"

Aaron’s breath hitched, his heart skipping a beat at the mention of your name. "Y/N was here?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. 

Hearing your name again, spoken aloud, was like a rush of warmth and memories flooding back into his chest. Memories of college, of late nights and soft conversations, of what could have been.

"Yep," Penelope said, her smile widening. "I didn’t realize she’s the one from the photo in your office. She even left her number for you to call her when you’re feeling up to it." She handed him the slip of paper with your number on it, and he took it, staring at it like it was a lifeline to something he thought he’d lost forever.

But before he could fully process what this might mean, Penelope's face softened with a hint of guilt. 

"Okay, confession time," she said, wincing slightly. "I may have done a little updated cyber-stalking on Dr. Y/N, and well... she’s engaged, Hotch. To some guy who looks like he has an investment portfolio and a golf handicap. You know the type."

Aaron’s heart sank, the hopeful flutter in his chest turning to a heavy thud. He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand, your number staring back at him like a taunt. All those years ago, he’d left his number for you, hoping you’d reach out, hoping you still cared. When you didn’t call, he’d told himself that you’d moved on, that you were happier without him in your life. The flowers to Haley’s funeral were welcomed, but that time in his life was such a blur, yet he can still remember the arrangement if he closed his eyes long enough.

And now, here you were, engaged to someone else, seemingly on the brink of starting a new life that didn’t include him. It felt like history was repeating itself, like he’d opened himself up to the possibility of you again, only to be reminded that maybe it was never meant to be.

He tucked the piece of paper into his pocket, forcing a tight smile onto his face for Penelope’s sake. "Thank you, Garcia," he said softly. "But I don’t think I’ll be using it."

Penelope looked at him with a trace of sympathy, understanding the hidden hurt in his eyes. "You sure, Hotch? She seemed really worried about you. And... I don’t know, it felt like there was more there."

His fingers tightened slightly around the slip of paper, and for a moment, he was tempted to crumble it up, to discard the hope that had briefly flickered to life. But instead, he carefully folded the paper and placed it on the small tray table beside his bed, his expression unreadable.

"Thanks for letting me know, Garcia," he said simply, his voice steady and controlled, giving nothing away.

Penelope nodded, her usual chatter subdued as she took in the calm but distant look in his eyes. "If you need anything, or if you want to talk about it, you know where to find me," she offered, her voice softer now.

Hotch gave her a small nod, a flicker of a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I appreciate that," he said, and it was clear that he wasn’t going to say anything more.

When Penelope finally left the room, Aaron lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts a tangled mess of emotions he kept locked away. 

He thought about you—about how you always seemed to show up in his life when he least expected it, like a constant he could never quite shake. The thought of you engaged to someone else, building a life without him, was like a knife twisting in his chest, but he would never let anyone see that pain.

More time had passed since you last saw Aaron Hotchner, and you had tried to bury the memories of your connection deep within the responsibilities of your demanding career. You had almost convinced yourself that he was a part of your past, that life had moved on without him. But then, fate threw him back into your life once more.

The ER was filled with its usual chaos when you caught wind of the commotion coming from one of the trauma rooms. The sharp, familiar voice drifting through the slightly open door stopped you in your tracks. It was a voice you hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime, but one that still had the power to make your pulse quicken.

"No, I’m fine," you heard Aaron Hotchner say, his tone clipped and full of irritation. "I don’t need to be here; I need to get back to my team."

"Sir, you need to be evaluated," the attending doctor insisted, exasperation clear in their voice. "We don’t even know what drugs you were exposed to."

You pushed open the door to the trauma room, your gaze locking onto Aaron almost immediately. He was standing there, stubborn as ever, his expression a mix of frustration and determination. His suit was disheveled and dirty, his tie hanging loose, and a laceration marred his otherwise composed face. Despite everything, he still looked like the man who had once held your heart.

"Excuse me, Doctor," you said, stepping in smoothly. "I’ll take it from here."

Aaron’s eyes shot up to meet yours, the annoyance in his expression softening into something else entirely—something that looked like relief mixed with surprise. 

"You’ve got to be kidding me," he muttered, a faint smile twitching at the corners of his mouth despite the circumstances. "What are the odds?"

You ignored the flutter in your chest as you gave him a stern look. 

"Sit down, Hotchner," you said, crossing your arms. "Let me do my job, or I’ll sedate you myself if I have to." 

He let out a small, resigned huff but obeyed, lowering himself onto the examination table. 

"I see you haven’t changed much," he said, his voice softer now, almost teasing.

"And you haven’t changed at all," you replied with a grin. "Still as stubborn as ever."

You began checking his vitals, your fingers brushing lightly against his wrist as you took his pulse. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he was holding himself together, like he was fighting to keep control. 

"Tell me what happened," you said, your voice more clinical now as you tried to focus on the task at hand.

He sighed, "The unsub we are dealing with," He shared the minor details of the case--what he could, filling you in on all he could share. It flowed easily talking to you though. Easier than it did over the years trying to tell Haley--or even Beth some of the gruesome details of his job. It was as if he knew you could take it--you were a different brand of strength than they were.

You gave him a pointed look as you adjusted the blood pressure cuff around his arm. 

"Humor me," you said, arching an eyebrow. "Let’s make sure there aren’t any lasting effects before you go charging off to save the day."

He opened his mouth to argue but then shut it, watching you work with a mixture of frustration and something else—something softer that he didn’t quite let reach his eyes.

You ordered a few tests to identify the drug in his system, then turned your attention to the small laceration on his face. You took out a suture kit and began to clean the wound, your touch gentle but precise.

"Hold still," you said, focusing on your work. "I’d hate to be responsible for ruining that beautiful face of yours."

A ghost of a smile crossed Aaron’s lips, a rare lightness in his expression. "I didn’t realize you cared so much about my looks," he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. "Just trying to keep the world’s best profiler looking his best," you shot back. "Can’t have you intimidating the bad guys with a face full of scars."

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent a warmth through your chest that you hadn’t felt in a long time. For a moment, it was like you were back in college, bantering over late-night coffee, before life got so complicated.

As you finished the last stitch, you gently dabbed the area around the wound. Your hand lingered on his cheek just a second longer than necessary, and when you pulled back, you could feel the shift in the air between you—like the unspoken words were almost too loud to ignore.

"There," you said, taking a step back, your voice a little shakier than you intended. "You’re good to go, Hotchner. No excuses now."

Aaron held your gaze for a long moment, his expression unreadable. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and tinged with a vulnerability you weren’t expecting.

"Why didn’t you ever call?" he asked, his eyes never leaving yours. "All those years ago, I left my number for you, and you never called."

You felt the words hit you like a punch to the gut, all the memories and regrets rushing back in a flood you weren’t prepared for. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words got tangled up with your emotions. You hadn’t expected this moment, hadn’t expected him to ask.

"I—" you started, then stopped, taking a breath to steady yourself. "I wanted to, Aaron. I really did. But I convinced myself it was better this way, that you had your life with Haley and Jack, and I didn’t want to complicate things."

He watched you, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to read every thought, every hesitation you’d ever had. 

"You never complicated anything," he said quietly. "You were the one thing that always made sense."

You swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. "I was afraid," you admitted. "Afraid that maybe I missed my chance, that too much time had passed. I over thought time and time again, the email I sent…or the time you didn’t call me after you collapsed." 

It was as if you were rambling now--the once confident and sure doctor now felt small and worried over details of what could fill a book with you and Aaron as the protagonists. 

Aaron reached out then, his hand covering yours where it rested on the table. His touch was warm, grounding you in a way that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for the two of you.

“I suppose we were both hesitant,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute. He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours with a steady intensity. “But it doesn’t have to be too late. Not for us.”

You looked up at him, your heart in your throat, the weight of all your missed chances hanging in the air between you. For the first time in years, you allowed yourself to hope—that maybe this time, the universe would finally let you and Aaron Hotchner find your way to each other.

And in that moment, as he held your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, you knew that this was far from over—that there was still so much left to say, and that this time, you weren’t going to let him slip through your fingers.

Aaron’s hand was still resting on yours, his eyes holding yours with a kind of intensity that made it impossible to look away. For the first time in years, it felt like the universe was giving you both a moment to finally be honest with each other, to close the gap that had always seemed to stretch between you.

But then, just as you opened your mouth to say something, the shrill ring of his phone shattered the moment. Aaron’s eyes flicked downward to the screen, his face softening slightly when he saw the caller ID.

“It’s Jack,” he said, a mixture of warmth and concern in his voice. You could see how quickly his priorities shifted; everything about him changed when it came to his son. There was a tenderness there, a fierce sense of responsibility that never wavered, even in the face of all the chaos around him.

You offered a small, understanding smile, even though your heart sank just a little. You were reminded of being there--seeing Aaron the day Jack was born. What, was that nine? Ten years ago? 

“Go,” you said softly, nodding toward the door. “He needs you.”

Aaron hesitated, his hand lingering on yours for a moment longer. He seemed torn, like he didn’t want to leave without making sure you both knew where things stood between you. Finally, he gave your hand one last squeeze before letting go, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin.

He answered the call, turning slightly away from you as he spoke to Jack. His voice softened, the way it always did when he was talking to his son, full of patience and love. “Hey, buddy,” he said, his tone gentle. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m at the hospital, but everything’s fine. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

When he hung up, he turned back to you, his eyes searching yours with that same intensity that always seemed to cut right through to your soul. “I have to go see Jack,” he said, and the regret in his voice was undeniable. “He needs me right now.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, knowing that this was who Aaron Hotchner was—a father first, a protector. It was one of the things you’d always admired about him, even when it meant he had to walk away.

“I understand,” you said quietly, offering him a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Go be with him. He’s lucky to have you.”

Aaron took a step toward the door but then stopped, turning back to you one last time. His expression was conflicted, like he was fighting to find the right words. Finally, he asked the question that hung in the air between you like a lifeline, a chance to reach out for something real.

“What next?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, but heavy with meaning. The vulnerability in his eyes was raw and unguarded, the kind of look that left you breathless.

You let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you realized that this was it—the moment you’d both been waiting for, the chance to finally lay all your cards on the table. 

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, your voice cracking slightly. “But I want to find out. I don’t want to keep missing our chances, Aaron.”

A small, relieved smile spread across his face, like the answer you gave was exactly what he’d been hoping for. 

“Me neither,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m tired of being out of sync with you.”

For a heartbeat, you both stood there, neither of you quite willing to break the connection, even as the reality of his world and yours pulled at him. You could see the weight of his responsibilities in his eyes, the knowledge that his life would always be complicated, always full of shadows that might pull him away at any moment.

He reached out, brushing a thumb lightly over your cheek, a gesture so tender it made your heart ache. 

“I’ll call you,” he promised, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “This time, I won’t let it slip away.”

You nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill, knowing that you’d hold him to that promise. “Be safe,” you whispered, your voice almost breaking.

He gave you one last lingering look, the kind of look that spoke of all the things he wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. Then, with a reluctant smile, he turned and left the room, his figure disappearing into the chaos of the hospital corridor.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space where he’d been, your heart still racing from the intensity of everything that had just happened. And even though he was gone, you felt a sense of hope that you hadn’t felt in years—a feeling that maybe, this time, the timing could finally be right.

As you turned back to your work, a small smile played on your lips, the warmth of his touch still tingling on your skin. You didn’t know what was next, but you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t going to let him slip away this time. Not without a fight.

Tag List:

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[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Dragonfly

zhongli/f.reader

genre: morax/zhongi, immortal!cursed!reader, miko/shrinemaiden!reader, angst, hurt/comfort(?), slow burn, reunion, traveler is NOT y/n, implied xiao/traveler,

warning(s)!!: mentions of: death/repetitive deaths, war, past suicides, the suffering of immortality in a mortal body, for the sake of this fic dragonflies are semi-common in teyvat/liyue lol, xiao considers zhongli/reader parental figures, things will definitely not follow canon timelines, Xiao is a frequent/important character, characters may be ooc (im sorry)

w.count: 15.6k (i am so sorry)

SYNOPSIS: fate and time are cruel kings ruling over even gods. morax is no exception. the only human he ever fell in love with was twisted by fate to battle him in a brewing war. the image of the burning temple that she resided in rested behind his eyelids and not a day goes by that he does not still mourn and yearn. time had cruelly taken you away from him. or... had it?

“Hello Traveler!” The soft yet chipper voice of the ever-pranking funeral director calls out from behind the blond Outworlder. The day in Liyue was still young and bright as the umber-clad young lady walks up to both them and Paimon who had floated herself bouncily from the Traveler’s right shoulder to the left. 

“Oh,” Paimon begrudgingly acknowledges, form bobbing in the air comfortably. “It's Hu Tao.” 

“Paimon,” Traveler scolds, crossing their arms over their chest. Paimon just sighs as the blond looks to the funeral director who had come close enough for conversion and unfolds their arms, bringing them down to their sides relaxingly. “Good to see you, Hu Tao,” they greet with a small nod.

“Indeed,” Hu Tao nods back, closing her eyes briefly in glee before reopening them. “It is lovely to see you. Are you here to visit Liyue? Or, perhaps another pressing matter brought you back to this nation once again.” 

“It’s nothing drastic,” Traveler dismisses. “We just.... had some time on our hands. So, we’re just visiting.” Partially, that was the truth. However, the full truth was that there was most definitely something the pair could be doing instead of wandering around Liyue. But it was important to take time for yourself sometimes, right? 

“Well, feel free to stop by the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor if you’re interested! I’d be happy to host the both of you for a meal.” 

“You mean, Zhongli would host us?” Paimon quips up knowing that, as Hu Tao’s consultant, Zhongli’s job descriptions can vary in terms of tasks. However, when Paimon spoke Hu Tao lifted her arms up towards herself. One wrapped around her chest and rested the elbow of her other, resting her curled fingers against her chin in thought. 

“Perhaps, not this time. Zhongli has had something on his mind these days.” The woman brought her curled hand and arms back down, now gesturing them softly in front of her as she spoke more. “It would feel distasteful to ask him to host guests at the moment.” 

The mention of Zhongli being mentally occupied made the Traveler and Paimon look at each other. They were privy to a lot of information the consultant kept tucked away from public knowledge- for good reason. The staged death of Morax for one. Although Hu Tao had once speculated that Zhongli could possibly be an Adeptus, she surely didn’t know that she wasn’t exactly far off from a bullseye. 

Still, the fact that Zhongli, the former Lord of Geo, was distracted so much that Hu Tao had essentially dismissed him of some of his duties was a concerning thought. He never seemed the type to dwell so much on something that it obstructed his work.

“I’ve tried asking him about it before,” Hu Tao continues, “since he gets like this around the same time every year. All he’s ever spoken to me about it is that someone he knew from his past had died around this time. It felt… wrong to pry into his past more for some reason.” It wasn’t an odd statement coming from her. She often took her work very seriously, even if she herself was a spitfire of a young lady. 

“Someone from his past died?” Paimon asked, already knowing about his past with the Adepti and The Seven. Perhaps, it had something to do with them? Either way, the concern was planted in the Traveler’s chest, so it felt only natural to find the ex-Archon and try and get some answers out of him. Maybe, since the pair had already known about his identity it would be easier to talk about. Or, that was the hope at least. 

Hu Tao and the Traveler spoke briefly for a moment longer with the usual snarky comment from Paimon before going their separate ways. Hu Tao had apparently been on her way out to fulfil a clients few specific requests and her stop for a chat was pushing to make her behind on her work. Paimon didn’t mind if she went on her way sooner rather than later, the dealing with the dead had always been creepy to the floating companion. 

Regardless, Hu Tao was a nice lady. Traveler would make sure to stop by and see her more, maybe indulge her hobby of poetry a bit. 

The two had walked around the busy streets of Liyue for a while trying to find Zhongli. He wasn’t at the funeral parlor, much to their dismay at making it an easy search, so they just starting wandering hoping to catch him somewhere along the way. Soon enough, they had wandered just far enough to catch a glimpse of his long brown tailcoat at Liyue Harbor. 

In retrospect, they should have started their search here if the funeral parlor was a bust. 

Zhonglig stood with his hands tucked neatly into each other behind his back, shoulders slack as he looked out over the landscape. He was basking in the solitude at the top arch of the harbor’s bridge when he hear the approaching sounds of footsteps. Turning his chin, he unclasped his hands and let his arms fall from his back before turning to greet the approaching Traveler. 

“Ah,” his deep voice reverberates and only the closest to him can detect the faux sound of a choked strain in it. “Greetings, Traveler.” 

“Hello, Zhongli!” Paimon greets floating just a fraction ahead of Traveler. “What were you doing?” She already begins to pry with a suspiciously high-strained voice. It just makes Traveler silently sigh and shake their head. She really needed to work on being more conspicuous. 

It’s quiet for a moment before Zhongli already catches on. Perhaps he can be a bit dense about certain aspects of the mortal realm, but he was by no means a fool. A smile finds its way on his lips in a moment of mild amusement at Paimon’s grace, or rather lack thereof. 

“I was merely lost in thought. Reminiscing about the past, you could say.” 

“The past?” She pressed again.

“Paimon,” the Traveler hisses for the second time that day. The floating girl just opened her jaw in mock offense before floating closer to them. 

“What? What did Paimon say now!” 

Zhongli’s low chuckle was a soft tune that at least showed he wasn’t offended by the blatant attempt at coaxing his thoughts out of his lips. 

“Did the Director send you to find me perhaps?” The fact that he was trying to slowly steer the conversation away wasn’t lost to the Traveler. Paimon and them both looked back to Zhongli shaking their heads. 

“Not exactly,” Traveler starts. 

“We did run into her though,” Paimon tacks on. “She told us you had been down in the dumps, so we came to check on you!” Paimon’s small hands came to her hips and her chest puffed out as if proud of her actions of checking in with a friend. 

Zhongli chuckles once again at the way Traveler places their hands on their hips as well,. Though, they were instead sending a playful scowl at the back of Paimon’s head.

“It is quite refreshing to see the two of you bicker,” he chides. “It certainly helps in easing the mind.” Once more, the two’s attention was drawn back to the former god. 

“So,” Traveler starts before Paimon could interject with something else, “there is something on your mind?” There was a growing fit of silence between the group of three, no one speaking in fear of shattering something they couldn’t exactly describe. Zhongli seemingly caved with a minuscule sigh kept more to himself than the harbor’s breeze. 

“The assumption that I’ve been a bit… preoccupied is correct. Lately, it seems I cannot focus on certain tasks for too long. My mind has a bit of a tendency to wander around this time of year.” Zhongli can already see the look of curiously mixed with concern written into the eyes of both Paimon and Traveler. His own eyes flick around the bridge and beyond the harbor’s main port before returning back to his visitors. “If you’re very interested to know, then I would not mind trying to explain it all over some tea. Though, it would be best if we took the topic of conversation elsewhere.” 

The sudden shift in his demeanor was almost palpable. It was like a cloak of grey mist started to waft around his very being at the mention of speaking his mind. Now that the two outsiders got the confirmation that whatever it was that was plaguing him was of the past he doesn’t let others know of, they were ready for a lengthy story. 

Zhongli had graciously invited the Traveler and Paimon to his personal abode, a place they had never even set eyes on. Of course, they knew he had to have had a place to stay and sleep, but for some reason it felt like all he ever did was walk around Liyue, do his work at the funeral parlor, or listen to stories at the Third-Round Knockout. It shouldn’t have been a shock to know he had his own home, but all the same, it was. 

It was simplistic inside, with the shelves being the only things of high value because of all the collected items he had bought and stored on them. Gesturing them both to a set of chairs between a table, he began brewing tea to serve as promised. 

Traveler sat awkwardly at first. Shuffling around in their chair while Paimon floated around the open space of the house being nosier than she should’ve been truthfully. Still, Zhongli didn’t say anything about her snooping so she continued to do so until the homeowner returned with a tray in his hands. 

A decorative teapot sat in the middle of the dark, wooden tray atop a plain towel; the steam of the hot, freshly brewed tea wisped out gracefully from its spout. Beside it were three small teacups placed upside down that clattered with the smallest sounds of finely made clay as he set the tray in the center of the table. Along with them was a small dish of cubes of sugar and a small creamer that held milk inside it. 

Zhongli skillfully took the teacups and flipped them over, setting them all upright and easily pouring the exact same amount of tea into each. The brew was dark and the steam wafted around the tabletop before dissipating into the air only to be replaced immediately with more. He slid two cups toward Traveler and the other to Paimon once she stopped her floating around and settled once again as the third member of the current party. He offered the milk and sugar to the two of them as well. 

“I prefer my tea black, but please help yourselves.” Zhongli settled into his own seat easily. One arm resting on the arm of his perch and the other on the table top to curl his fingers around the cup he had prepared for himself. His legs crossed out of habit and it was then that the Traveler realized he had taken off his tailcoat. It was purely out of habit to take it off when he had arrived to the privacy of his own home, and he didn’t even realize it himself- not that it mattered. It was simply a different look than they were used to. 

Paimon began dropping sugar cubes into her cup a bit too clumsily as small droplets splashed on her hand from the objects breaching the liquid causing her to yelp. In turn, the two seated companions offered her chuckles of amusement as she blew on her hand. Of course, it was hardly an injury- it was more a fright than a burn. 

“It’s hot,” Zhongli chided. 

“Gee, you think!” She then started dropping in cube after cube much more delicately. Or, rather she would drop them from the same height as before but immediately fly away when she let go so the upcoming splash wouldn’t touch her again. The Traveler made their own additions to their tea as well, but much less messily. 

The three settle into a comfortable silence filled with small sips of tea and clicks of returning cup to wooden table top. That is, until Zhongli broke it by placing a small wooden box on the table in front of him to join in with the teatray and it’s accessories. 

It was an elegant box the size of his fist. Golden edges wrapped in angular designs and a locked latch in the front of it. On the top of the lid was the symbol of a Geo Vision. At first, the two travelers thought that maybe this box is what he stored his fake Vision in when it wasn’t on his person. Pulling a small key from under his long-collared shirt, he unlocked the box and opened the lid. From where the Traveler sat with the lid facing them, they still couldn’t get a peek inside. 

The last thing they expected Zhongli to pull out of the cushioned, plush lined box was a hair ornament. 

Modeled in the shape of a dragonfly, the piece was carefully handled by the ex-archon and placed so very delicately on the table. The wings of the dragon fly were filled with a crystal that shone green and teal, the colors shifting with the light and angle as which it was gazed upon. The piece itself was designed as a hairstick, acting as an elegant means to pen up locks of hair- the metal rod of the stick seemed well suited for such a job. Matching teal-green crystal beads hung from the bottom tips of each wing as decorative tails. 

It was a beautiful piece to gaze at. 

Zhongli kept his hand on the table right next to it, his fingertips just a breath away from touching it again. When Paimon got a bit too close while gazing at it, Traveler could see the slightest twitch run through his fingers. As if the ex-Archon was anxious about Paimon getting too close to it. Still, to not be rude he said nothing as she continued to narrowing gawk. 

“Paimon, back up a little,” Traveler said, sitting forward a bit to try and act like they were trying to get a better look while simultaneously trying to get Paimon to back off a bit. When Paimon floated back to her place by her teacup, Zhongli’s shoulders loosened like he was relieved at the distance between the reckless floating fairy and this clearly important item. 

“You were curious on what has been on my mind, yes? This is a one reason I’ve been rather… absent as of late.” 

“You’ve been spacing out over a hairstick?” Paimon asked astonishingly. Zhongli shook his head. 

“Not quite.” His fingers uncurled and genly brushed over one of the beaded tails, letting the crystals bump over his fingertips. His eyes softened, yet that cloak of grey melancholy came back to him. “It’s more about who this was going to belong to.” 

Traveler and Paimon both had questions, but remained silent. They both settled into their respective places ready to listen to the story he was surely about to unweave. They knew that the tea would grow cold and kettle drank empty by the time it was all finished. Though, the look in his eyes and the way his voice grew softer in a way that pulled at the heart made the eternity of sitting in one place much easier to bare. 

“This ornament was going to be a gift to someone I knew a very long time ago. I never had the chance to give it too her, however; so, I keep it here with me where it is safe. I cannot bare to throw it out, even after all this time.” 

It seemed crazy, how the two swore his eyes had grown misty just saying those few sentences. How this story is going to start all because of a crystal dragonfly from millenia past.

There were many places that had been tainted and driven to ruin due to the war raging by the Archons. Gods were battling each other for power, others trying to flee from another’s unjustly wrath. Some even tried defending their people instead of taking place in battles or retreating. It was chaos and there were few corners of the old world of Teyvat that wasn’t splattered in a thick muck of bloodshed. 

Still, that didn’t mean everywhere had been tainted. No. This fact rang true as Morax had discovered one fateful day a small territory cleansed of blood and impurity. 

Hidden behind a barrier he had stumbled upon in the middle of a half dead forest, the invisible viel hid everything beyond it from sight. In fact, if he hadn’t happened to be near it, the Archon probably wouldn't have noticed it in the first place. The barrier itself easily gave and allowed him passage inside which led him to believe it was more of a mask than a shield. 

Walking through it led him to a forest of lush floral and trees that thrived surrounding a small section of land that housed no more than 500 people perhaps. A small village with huts scattered around plots of farmland and a rather luxurious palace atop it all. It was a farcry from the near-deathly state of the outside world and the whiplash of it made him momentarily wonder if he was somehow succumbing to some sort of hallucination. 

Morax walked through the dirt paths all the way until the thick wall that cut off the eastern styled palace from the rest of the people. Walls tall and made of a stone the God of Geo had to have created at somepoint. The craftsmanshift of it was marvelous he had to admit as there was not the slightest crack between the stacked stone. Easily vaulting himself onto the tall wall, he gazes beyond it’s perimeter. 

Inside of the sturdy walls, he could see six different buildings. Along the two side walls of stone stood two houses each. Two west and two east, separate yet built so similar he could easily mistake the four as clones of each other if not for his experienced eyes that had seen such fine details over his life. Connecting these four abodes from west to east were grey, stone paths. The same cobblestone led beyond the front gate he had forwent as he perched atop the wall and led straight forward to a single building that was larger than the rest. Morax assumed that was the main estate just from the grandeur of it compared to the lacking other four. 

Though, the final building is harder for the curious immortal to see. It was built directly behind the main estate, no doubt also connected with the same clean stone paths that weaved through the courtyards. All Morax could see of this building was it’s roof, the same tiled and burned color as the high status homes around it. 

Morax straightened his body from it’s crouched position and began to gracefully walk along the stone wall. Getting new angles of the buildings inside, he soon grew close enough to the main estate that he easily lept to it’s roof. Landing as if the air lessened his weight, he could now view that one single building he hadn’t yet more clearly. 

Immediately, the Archon recognized it as a temple that without a doubt housed priests and priestess alike. Some may be masters at their craft and others may be but small, inexperienced fledgings beyond those sacred walls. 

The idea of a temple like that in an uncharted and untainted territory flared his curiosity. So much so, he was hardly in control of his instincts as he once more lept gracefully from the estate’s rooftop onto the stone paths. His barefeet made a sound of collision when his heels touched the man-made path, and continued to make the same shuffling sounds as he walked straight into the temple. 

Morax did not run into a single person in the temple, though he could hear matras and practices from around different open training fields. Even the soft plunks of arrows being driven into targets for archery precision and the chiming of bells for cleansing. The open halls of the temple and the roof over his head that kept the sun’s heated glare from his figure felt comforting. 

Being in a place so filled with peace and sounds of anything but war was outlandish to the otherwise warrior-type god. Morax had contracts to fulfill and his own principals to protect while fending off other gods trying to level his unnamed throne. Taking out a few of his own violation never did any harm to strengthen his gag between himself and others.

The god had walked so freely that he soon found himself under the sun again. Instead of in the open halls of marble floors and burgundy columns, Morax was standing amidst a field of wild grass, flowers, trees, and bushes. It was like the lush forest outside the stone perimeter allowed a single bit of it’s ecosystem inside the temple just for the mortals to bask in. 

A small humming of wings quickly caught Morax’s attention amidst the sounds of the wind’s breeze and dancing leaves. His chin led his head in the direction before coming to see a small dragonfly hovering around him before landing on his shoulder. The view of the insect was neary cut off by the hood he always wore over his head, but the bug itself was peaceful just resting it’s wings on the god’s shoulder for respite. 

For a moment, the warrior of countless battles felt relief. For just that moment, the weight of such responsibility with his temperament lifted all because a small insect decided to rest on him. 

The dragonfly’s respite did not last. The little critter’s wings began to hum again and soon began to hover off and before Morax could stop his feet, he found himself following it. Bare feet stepping over well worn paths of flattened grass and dirt patches. Not long from where had previously stood, he stopped at seeing where the small insect had flown to in lieu of himself. 

The eyes of the archon landed on the first person Morax had seen since entering this temple- although uninvited, presence unknown and undetected. Reaching out a delicate hand with her index finger extended, the dragonfly landed easily on the appendage. 

A priestess knelt elegantly in the tall grass, previously inspecting herbs when she heard the familiar buzz of wings. The hakama pants that folded at her legs were neatly pleaded without a crease out of place and her kosode tucked perfectly into the trousers- not a wrinkle to critque. Her hair had been loosing tied back with a red hair ribbon that fluttered in the breeze that kept the tall grass swaying like waves of spring. 

The wind picked up when the dragonfly lifted off her fingers and off back towards Morax. It was like the little creature had led him straight to her and was now directing her vision back so they could meet each other’s gaze. 

It was all thanks to that one, small bug that Morax and first made eye contact with you.

“Oh,” your small voice of surprise- at seeing such an odd looking man in the overgrown, private gardens of the temple- carried on the same wind that the dragonfly danced in. You stood and dusted off your knees, knocking any sticking dirt off your bottoms before standing up properly. You inspected the man in front of you.

Arms dark as earth with cracks of glowing gold. Clad in a white cloak that split five ways down  and encompassed with a golden belt at his waist with a hood pulled over his head. The hair you could see whipping lightly in the wind behind his back was dark in color matching his arms. His trousers were wide open and baggy around his legs, only encasing snuggly around his ankles. His impressive stature gained your attention easily and you could tell he wasn’t exactly something mortal. It would be ridiculous to think just at the sight of his arms alone, not to mention the air around him seemed so… powerful. 

“My apologies, I wasn’t aware we were expecting a guest today,” the courteous smile you sent him made him wonder if you weren’t at least a little apprehensive of his unexpected presence. 

“You weren’t made aware because no one aside from yourself is aware of my being here.” 

“I see,” you muse. “I hope you are aware that qualifies you as a trespasser.” 

“Trespasser?” Morax gapped, losing his composure for a moment. His brows dipped in offense under his hood, his pride kicking into his throat through his words. “I am no such being.” 

“Ah, but aren’t you just? You said yourself, no one knows you’re here. Yet, you end up in the presence of this temple’s Miko. If that does not mean you’re trespassing, what does?” Morax’s eyes hidden under his hair and flick from your head to your feet and back up again. You were the head shrine maiden? You seemed so young and yet you held such an important position? It planted a pebble of doubt in him.

Then again, if he focused on you properly, he could barely see a small circular arua around your frame. It was like a barrier was placed around you, one protected you from the outside and anything that could taint you. Exactly like the barrier surrounding the territory he had more or less invaded. Honing your spiritual power like that so young, he would’ve perhaps tutted in impressiveness if you hadn’t challenged his very being moments ago. 

Still, Miko or not, he still outranked you. Crossing his arms over his chest, their golden geo pulsed with a soft light. 

“With such a rank you possess, are you still so unaware when a God stands before you? A pity.” 

“On the contrary,” you smile to him and his brow again twitches at your nonchalance. “I’m being quite respectful if you think on it. If you were simply a noble who lives among the palace homes, I would’ve quickly dealt with you since only a select few from outside are allowed entry into the temple. Much less this garden which is private and limited to my attendance only.” 

“Are you implying you could force me away at any moment should you please?” His voice grew tight in challenge. His sense of traquilty from before discovering you was dimming and the frigid air of his battle sense were returning even as the wind continued to caress you both. 

“I assure you I would do no such thing. I’m simply proving that even in the presence of a God, I will not yield since I do not even know which is in front of me. Not to mention, this land has no God to speak of or for. So, if you think about it that way, I am where one would hypothetically stand.” 

Oh. 

Morax felt something stir in his chest at the teasing tilt in your voice that spilled over your lips that curled into a smile. Your eyes were so clean and clear, it was like staring into crystals and he had the urge to create a new form of geo just to replicate them. The feeling was foreign to him, but it shocked him greatly when he realized it wasn’t an unwelcome stir. 

He finally dropped his crossed arms and began to decrease the distance between you both. Morax came to stand in front of you so he could get an even better look at your features. As such, you could now look easily under his hood as he stood above you. His eyes seemed to glow a lovely shade of amber that complemented his glowing, golden skin and dark hair. 

“Address me as, Morax,” he instructed. Your taunting smile turned soft and wide as your eyes closed in the most pleased expression he had seen in years. His amber eyes widened at the innocence and the small bells of laughter that left your throat towards him shook his unshakeable core. 

“That’s much better,” you said, now obviously pleased. “I’m, y/n. It’s an honor to meet you, Morax.” 

It was his name rolling off your tongue- spreading into the wind that had blown harshly for but a moment- that sent an earthquake that started at his chest and spread through his whole body. It was the sound of his own death sentence and he was once again shocked at how he easily accepted that he would definitely be back to this temple. Be back to this garden of overgrown grass and floral. 

Morax would definitely be back to you. 

As promised, Morax had been back to that temple several times since the first time he met you. When the weight of the archon war was- ironically- too heavy, or if he needed a place to escape just for a moment he would seek you out. It was quiet ridiculous how you had somehow wormed your way into his very soul and wrapped him around your finger. 

The Lord of Geo had come to learn much about you in the time he spent by your side. Your favorite flowers and scents, when you had started your priestess training, when you had progressed to the skill level you possess now and how long you had been the acting miko of the temple. Your favorite type of weather, or time of day, or season. In turn, he had confessed things about himself as well. 

How he had been around for as long as the world- or so it sometimes felt that way. How he’s in the middle of a grand and merciless war with other gods presumably because of issues to do with celestia. How he had taken many lives of both mortals and gods alike all for the sake of his own land and people. The very feeling of battle is engraved in his bones like names on a tombstone, yet it didn’t seem to push you away. 

It was laughable. The very Being of war and battle was utterly infautated with you, a mortal being of purity and values. Of course, you were alway assure him that what he did was just his own values, especially his strictness with any contract he made. You neved judged him for his sins and the weight they carried, but you never outwardly agreed with him either. You told him what he needed to hear, not what he wanted and he cherished those words so dearly. If he had any less self-restraint, Morax could easily let himself take your very words as law itself.

Yet again, it was another day he had left his duties behind him as he found you kneeling in the fields of grass once again. Leaping from the outerwalls, to the rooftops of the estate, to the roof of the temple, he easily lands like a pebble hitting sand next to you. It was the rush of air beside you that alerted you of his attendance rather than any sound he made- or didn’t make. 

“Hello again, Morax,” you greet as you thumb through the herbs and check the petals of nearby wildflowers. Morax kneels at your side before sitting fully in the grass, one of his knees bent up to prop his arm on with the other stretched out in front of him. A rather relaxed position you had insisted he use instead of kneeling for however long he visits would last. 

“Good afternoon,” he replies. It’s silent for a while after that. The atmosphere of simply being with you was good enough for Morax. That was until the urge to speak and hear you speak in return hit his throat. “Your people seem more rowdy than usual.” He didn’t need super-enhanced senses to tell that the noise had increased since his last visit. 

“You can tell that even though you’ve never properly been inside?” 

“I have been inside.”

“No one knew that thought,” you tease with a finger that flicked back and forth a few times. “So, it isn’t a proper stroll in my temple.” Morax playfully chuckles at your antics. “You are correct though.” 

“Is there a reason?” He had noticed it since he arrived, but the air around you seemed heavy. “Something seems to be weighing on you.” 

“You’re perceptive. I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked about that considering-” 

“Y/n.” 

You sigh before the hand that had been thumbing at flower petals falls back into the tresses of wild grass and to the ground at your side. 

“The monks are gathering in a rush under Master Jiang’s orders.” Morax’s brow furrows at the information. You had mentioned this Master Jiang before. He was apparently a traveling monk that had previously been nomadic. Though, since the archon war had only gotten worse over the course of time, he had settled in the safety of your barrier and subsequently in your temple. 

On the rare occasions you let your irritations get the best of you, you spilled your guts to Morax about how he was constantly chanllenging your power and position in the temple. Thinking he was better because he was older with more experience beyond the protective walls of your home. Along with the misguided misogyny of being a man. It was one thing after another, spouting off about anything that irked you until you got all your curses off your lips in the privacy of the archon. 

Morax had not met this Jiang- not to mention anyone else outside of you inside the temple sense his visits weren’t exactly documented- but he already strongly disliked him. Now, he was trying to taking charge of your temple?

“For what purpose.” You do no respond to him right away and it sends a jolt through his nervous system. “Y/n. For what purpose,” he repeats with a heavier tone. You let out a sigh that feels as heavy as your aura as you sit in the field of wildgrass and flowers with the closest being to your heart. 

“He’s afraid that we’re going to soon be effected by the war as well.” You didn’t need to specify which war, he was more than well aware which you were referring to. 

Among the other things he had learned about you, he had come to understand why your people were save from the archon’s destruction so far. It was because of you and your power. 

Inside the temple was a specific place for you to practice your skills and keep the barrier around your precious home. That didn’t showcase all you could do, however and Morax knew it. Keeping the living things inside safe and keeping all the taint out. If something did happen to get inside your barrier, you were quickly dispatched to purify it. You could tell the moment something breached your safe haven, all the proof he needed as his first appearance to you. 

You had admitted ot him once that the reason you didn’t immediately cast him out was simply because you didn’t feel any hostility from his presence. He had no intention on hurting your people or home, so you allowed him access in. That barrier was an extension of your power; constant proof you were so much stronger than that stupid old monk was trying to plat down. 

Morax had only heard the sound of your birch tree bowstring plucked once before, and the air instantly felt cleaner. He’d heard bells in the distant halls while he waited for you in the treetops of your private garden to avoid the chance of being seen. While with you, he had picked up on a masking you placed over him so he couldn’t be detected by others and kept safe from prying eyes. Your power still astonished him even after all this time. 

“That’s asinine,” he growled. The whole ordeal of it all just set the message that they didn’t trust you and your abilities. After all you had done since you were a child to protect these people, after everything you’ve sacrificed, and they’re doubting you now? When your powers were in their prime? It was insulting. 

“Morax-”

“Do not try and save their value but udnermining your own.” 

“I’m not!” You cry in exasperation. You let out another sigh before letting your body lean into his shoulder and against his propped up leg. Morax froze up as your body softly collided with his own. While you had him attached to your very being, hook line and sinker, he had never once touched you. Not a single brush of his fingertips to your body or even allowing your legs to touch as you sat side by side. 

The side of his body you rested on felt like a volcano on his geo-ingraved skin. 

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Could I stay like this just for a moment longer?” 

His arm that you leaned against came to wrap around your shoulder and push your head further against him. The archon lowered his leg to join the other on the ground just so he could have you closer to him. His chin rested by your forehead and he closed his eyes letting you invade every one of his senses. Squeezing your form as he felt the trembles you tried to conceal and force to stay inside, not letting yourself break as much as he wanted you to. Morax wanted you to feel safe and open with him, but he understood all too well how difficult a task that was as someone of your strict upbringing. 

“Stay here as long as you need. I will not move.” Morax was geo, the land itself. He created mountains and stone and they all know his name. He was a god of contracts and his words were just as serious as those that he holds so strictly to them. The Lord of Geo would stay your unyielding pillar for as long as you needed him. That he promised to himself as he felt your small drops of tears silently fall onto his chest that he dare not mention. The urge to wipe them away and treasure you like a fragile bell ached within him, but he dare not act on those either.

For but a brief moment, Morax- the Geo Archon- wished for a single second he was mortal. That he was like you.  

Morax had no idea how this happened. What had gone wrong? Was it him? Did his sudden intrusion into your life of purity ruin everything? As a god, did his divine hands finally touch something he was never meant to?

Weeks ago you had urgently awaited his normal time of arrival but as soon as he showed, you urgently told him to leave. To leave the temple, the palace, the barrier- all of it- and never come back. You had demanded he return to the world he knew, the one filled with smoke and war and ongoing conquests. His chest filled with thick, black tar as you screamed at him and he did what any sane being would do. Morax screamed back, unable to understand and he was losing his patience bit by bit.  

The Archon wanted answers, none of which he demanded for were satisfing. The monks had finally discovered that you had been meeting with an outsider from beyond the barrier; to make matters worse, they knew it was Morax who had been active in the outside war since it begun. They were focring you to make a decision and the best course of action was to push him away before things got too out of hand and would be to a point where you could do nothing. 

It made no sense to Morax. He could help, he was certain of it. He’d let you direct him, use him how you like and pull his actions like a puppet on willing strings. He’d follow your every order to the letter if you just wouldn’t force him out and shun him like you were desperately trying to do. 

You wouldn’t yield. 

Morax hated your stubbornness now more than ever. You finally forced him away with a bracellet you had made yourself that was nothing but clear-ringing, golden bells threaded with red string. The sound they made amplified your power and he knew at just the meresight of them you were trying to make him leave. 

With one flick of your wrist, he could feel invisible threads of nothing wrap around his limbs and begin to tug. Once more he tried to reason something- anything- out of you, but was met with nothing but a second ring of bells that yanked his whole being out of your barrier. Forced out and finding himself outside, he was furiously frustated. Summoning his polearm, he let out a cry before thrusting it into and then subsequently through the neearst tree effectively slicing it down.  

Your final words to him stay in his ears like a parasite- pounding against his eardrums so violently he was afraid they'd burst if they continued to torment him. 

“If you ever return, I will have no choice but to take further actions, Morax.” 

Morax had to stay away from you. It’s what you wanted; or maybe it wasn’t your wish- but it’s what you said. What you demanded he do. Still, he didn’t know when this happened. Morax didn’t know when he decided that the last thing he would ever do is stay away. 

Therefore, Morax still returned into your barrier and through your territory. Just as you had said, you were true to your words. 

The moment you felt his presence trespass inside your barrier, you evacuated the palace and with the same bells you sent him away with, you summoned him back. It was like he was teleported with magic, the same invisble strings that had yanked him out now drew him in. The ringing of your bells reverated in his ears before he was standing in that same overgrown field. 

Morax stood in the one spot he first saw you and you took presence in the spot he had found you kneeling. This time, there were no dragonflies humming in the air and something in him knew there never would be again. 

“I told you,” you choked. 

“I refuse to listen to a moral’s orders,” he bit back. It was a lie. He said he’d listen to your every word, and he meant it. Even when his desperate pleas to stay by you landed him nowhere by alone. 

Morax knew there was only one option left as he eyed the staff in your hand. Your grip was so tight around it your hand trembled with the sheer force of it. Your head shook with micro-swivels on your neck as you kept your eyes on the ground. 

“You should have.” Morax’s polearm materialized at his side in a moment before he took it’s familiar grip into his palm. He had only ever told you of his weapon, never wanting to show you in case it tainted you somehow. All that silly precaution seemed so pointless now. 

The gentle breeze he was accustomed to had become bone chilling as you lifted your chin to finally look at him. Morax almost caved seeing your angry tears, but as you moved to engage in battle, he let his body move on it’s own. The god who was so accustomed to battle just wanted to shut his brain off for this one. 

Morax didn’t want to do this. 

The battle between you both was a long one. You screamed at each other. Sometimes words, sometimes just sounds of angusih and pain. You knew Morax was holding back on you, you didn’t have the power to fully stop a god and you knew it. Morax knew it. Whether he was holding back because of his affections for you or because he was toying with you, you couldn’t figure it out. The power of your barrier did limit his abilities some, but it was hardly enough to be considered a handicap.

Still, somehow, you had knocked his polearms from his hand before you forced him onto his back into the grass. 

His cloack was torn and his arms of geo-glowing beauty seemed dim and dark like the shadow cast over his eyes. His hood had been knocked back while his hair was tosseled and battleworn. Your body and his were covered in cuts and burns and scrapes. Everything hurt from inside your body to the outside. 

You had him on his back as you climbed over him. Your legs pinned his arms down and your weight sat on his chest, the bottom of your staff pushing into his throat as your labored breaths shook throughout your whole body. All you had to do with lift your staff just a fraction and slam it back down and you could do some major purifying damage to his body. It probably wouldn’t kill him… but what if it did? Did you have it in your to purify a god? Maybe if you tried, it would take all your strength and you could die together. You almost scoff at yourself- 

-wouldn’t that be just poetic.

You could feel his own chest heaving under your weight and you knew he could easily throw you off him if he wanted to. Just like before though, he did nothing. He just lay in the grass beaten and battered as he glared beyond the staff’s pole into your face. You hated the look in his eyes.

“Will you not follow through?” He chastised with so much venom you wanted to vomit. The staff shook once with both of trembling hands holding it above his neck. You had to- it was your duty. You would be betraying your people if you let him live. For your people, for the cowardice monks who forced you here, for your ignorance for thinking you could keep Morax by your side without consequence. For everything you had trained for until now, you had to get rid of him. You had to!

Morax sucked in a breath as he readied his neck to be pulverized. Your staff came away from his throat… and soon your weight was being pushed off his body entirely. Raising to your shaking, exposed legs from your torn trousers, you took staggering steps backward from him. Morax’s glare morphed into shock as he raised to his elbows to watch you retreat. 

“What-” 

He watched  your chest heave with frustrated tears. Choked, uneven sobs tore at your throat as you screamed before throwing your staff far from your grip. You heard it clank against Morax’s discarded polearm and thought for a moment how ironic it was. Your weapon reuinited with his in your moment of weakness- your lowest point of failure. The moment you threw duty away and chose yourself for once. 

“I can’t,” you cry, falling to your knees into the singed and destroyed field that once flourished so wonderuflly. “Please, go,” you beg. Morax climbs to his feet, wincing at the wounds on his body before calling for his polearm again. Once it was again in his grip, he looked at the dried blood of yours that litered the blade. The Lord of Geo immedately dismissed it, watching it disapate into the air from whence he summoned it. He simply stood there, looking down at your crumbling frame. 

What were you doing? You were going against your practices and willingly letting a supposed threat escape. He took one step in your diection, still so woefully attached to you. Watching you tear at the seams and keep unraveling in front of his very eyes. He was at a loss; what could he do to even begin to ease your suffering when he himself was part of it?  

“No.” You could feel his eyes on you and his want to approach you burnt the top of your head at which he gazed. “Be gone.” You demand once again like the first day you chased him off. You didn’t hear him move and in a fit of nothing left, you tore off your bell bracellet and threw it in his direction. “Go back to where you belong!”  And in a mere moment, his presence vanished and you broke completely. The eyes of the monks watched as you sobbed in the gardens, the battle they made you wage concluding with no victor. 

“Zhongli…” the story behind the hairpiece and his grief was heavier than either Paimon or Traveler was expecting. 

“I had planned to gift this to y/n during one of our meetings. I knew she wouldn’t be allowed to wear it of course,” he chuckled bitterly to himself. “For a great many of reasons. Still,” it would’ve proven to myself she was mine. Zhongli cleared his throat. “Regardless, I think I’ve spoken enough for once. The tea has run out and you both surely have other arrangements as the day is waning.” 

“Paimon doesn’t think-” 

“Then, we’ll be off,” Traveler interjects. Zhongli was just being polite but what he was really saying was that he wanted to be alone. “Thank you for telling us. Y/n sounded like a wonderful person.” 

“Tis but a story.” The way he replied made it sound like he was trying to convince himself more than them. The two left his home, leaving him still sitting at the table with an empty teacup and still holding that crystal winged dragonfly like it was Teyvat’s most precious treasure. 

It was quiet between Paimon and the Traveler as they walked aimlessly around Liyue. The Traveler’s mind boggled at the information they had been told and grew curious to any they hadn’t. They were almost certain that there was more to your story, but Zhongli couldn’t bare to say anymore. 

“Wait,” Traveler stopped in the middle of the path, bringing their hand to cup around their mouth in thought. “That all happened during the Archon War, right?” 

“Paimon thinks she remembers him mentioning that. Why?” 

“Do you think Xiao would know anything about it?” Traveler thought about it, but if memory served Morax was the one who granted Xiao his name. As Paimon looked at the blond with wonder, a voice spoke behind them. 

“You called?” 

Paimon’s screech echoed into the air as the Traveler spun around, not expecting the very apedtus to show up. Xiao sure took the calling of his name seriously. 

“Paimon never-” the floating companion looked to the blonde. “Oh, yeah. I guess we kinda did.” Xiao crosses his arms as he stands expectantly. The daytime hours were few in remaints and the streets began to slowly thin in populous, so he was less reserved about being around people, Though, he still didn’t want to linger either. Regardless of his wants, he noticed the air of tensity around you both. 

“Did something happen.” It wasn’t a question, it hardly was when Xiao was involved. 

“Do you know anything about a woman named y/n?” Xiao’s body when frigid as he dropped his arms and quickly stepped up to the both of you. Coming nearly toe to toe as the Traveler squeaked and took a half step back. 

“How do you know that name.” Once again, Xiao wasn’t asking. Traveler looked around and decided that standing in the middle of the road wasn’t the best place for this conversation. 

“Let’s go somewhere else.” 

The newly formed trio had migrated outside the city and out into the wilderness by a river.  Xiao and Traveler took to sitting among stones, Xiao crossing his legs and Traveler letting their’s dangle. Paimon’s ever floating presence never going too far from the two. They sat and listened to the sound of the bable of running water, trying to find a way to reopen the previously halted conversation. 

“Did Rex Lapis tell you about y/n?” Xiao ripped the bandage off first, something Traveler was almost thankful for. “That’s the only possible conclusion I can think of if you know her name since she wasn’t memorialized during her lifetime.” 

“Yeah, he did. I’m pretty sure he chased us out before he could tell us everything though.” Xiao nodded. Earnest understanding shone in his eyes but there was something else behind those irises of his, but the Traveler couldn’t figure out what it was. “Did you knew her too, Xiao?” He nodded again. 

“Not long after Morax found me and gave me my name, I found out that he was frequently paying visitation to a mortal woman. I thought he was being reckless, so he took me to meet her one day.” 

“He took you himself?” Paimon questioned. 

“Yes. He wanted to prove a point.” 

Xiao could still remember his first impression of you.  You had scolded Morax as soon as he landed in the familiar garden, arms crossed and mouth opening in reprimands. Calling him foolish for bringing a highly detectable entity beyond your barrier- one he didn’t even realize he had breached with his archon- and that if you hadn’t masked his spiritual signal just like how you did with his own, he’d be in a world of trouble. 

Seeing Morax take your scolding as he stood there bemused, Xiao’s first thought was that he did not like you. He distrusted you. What kind of mortal argues with a god on what they can and cannot do like you did? It was ludicrous. Still, the moment Morax introduced him as his newest comrade named Xiao, you smiled at him. You sent along with that smile a warm welcome and he suddenly felt awkward. 

“Xiao,” you called to his back before he was to leave with Morax at the need to return back outside your walls. He did not turn around to face you, but he did not move until you spoke again. “Feel free to come back and visit anytime. I’ll keep you covered.” 

“Rex Lapis- Morax- was the one who saved me and gave me the name Xiao. I respect him and owe him a great deal- a debt I may not truly be able to ever repay in full. In mortal terms, some may say he’s like a father to me.” Xiao’s chin lifted up to the darkening sky. The day had felt so long, the Traveler hadn’t realized just how late it was beginning to get. “If Morax was a father, then y/n was my mother."

The yaksha can still remember the first time he had sought you out for himself without Morax with him he was recoiling from karmic debt. It didn’t take a genius to know that he felt lighter in your presence- your purifying light helping ease his burdensn whether you did so purposely or not. 

It was late into the night when you had awoken abruptly from your sleep to the sensation of Xiao passing through the barrier. You sprung up from your futon, quickly focusing on his approach and cloaking him the best you could. His energy was rough, dark and pulsing and it worried you. You quickly made your way out to the garden where you knew he’d be and unshockingly enough was when you arrived. 

Curled into himself on his knees, his arms wrapped around his torso as black smoke engulfed him like vines. Gasping and sweating, he weakly stay collapsed in the grass as you ran to his side. 

“Xiao!” You whispered in anxiety as you knelt next to him, your eyes teary in fright. “What’s happening to you?” He didn’t answer, just shook his head with heavy, labored breaths. The moment, your hand came to rest on his back, his eyes rolled back with a fraction of his burden easing off his shoulders. Xiao slumped into you, his shoulder and neck pushing into your legs as his head rested partially on your stomach. His sudden collison knocked you back into the grass, your previously kneeling form now firmly planted on the ground. 

“Please,” he gasped as your other hand had come to his shoulder that wasn’t pushing into your lap. “Please, could you… sing.” In truth, he wasn’t sure why he asked that of you. He didn’t know what possessed him to request something so odd, but regardless of the oddity, you did. Your mouth had opened and you slowly and softly began to sing him a lullaby he had never heard before that night. 

It was like a blanket of early morning mist started to coat his burning, heavy body. His aching came to a slow stop as his mind became clearer. You sang the lullaby over and over again until the effects of his karmic debt had disappeared into the evening air. Even when he went completely lax on your lap and your hands had moved to run through his hair and across his back, you kept singing until early that next morning Morax had come to retrieve his missing Adeptus. 

As Xiao in the present looked at the stars, tracing constellations, he once again was reminded of your lullaby. You sang that to him many times after that and he remembered every single instance. It wasn’t far-fetched to say that the reason Barbarto’s song’s calmed him so is because he’s reminded of you in those moments and tunes. 

Yes, Xiao came to revere you just as much as his Archon- even though you were just a mere mortal. 

“So,” Traveler spoke up softly, trying to gently pull him from his obvious reminiscing. “What happened to y/n? Zhongli mentioned that he had fought her, but what happened then? Did they ever see each other again?” 

“No,” Xiao’s face contorted into a grimmance as his fist’s balled in his lap. “Y/n was executed before Morax could ever see her again.” His fists were so tightly balled they shook, clearly he still resented the fate you had been subjected to. 

“Executed?!” Paimon exclaimed. “But- but why?!” 

“Because she let Morax live.” The yaksha’s eyes narrowed as he gnashed his teeth. “Those filthy monks that poisoned her temple confined her to a dungeon cell where they starved and deprived her of anything. Letting her suffer for days before placinig a curse and executing her all because she refused kill an Archon.” 

“Did those people really not like Archons that much?” Paimon asked. 

“They were monsters!” He exclaimed. “Y/n had been raised to choose the people over her own desires, but the moment she wanted something for herself they-” 

“Xiao,” Traveler interrupted, reaching out their hand to place it on his folded knee. 

“She didn’t deserve the fate they gave her.” Traveler only nodded at his solemn tone. “When her execution was carried out, Morax… he reacted to an extreme.” 

“An extreme?” Paimon inquires. Xiao nodded, lifting his head back up from where it had been tucked towards his chest in anger. 

“The moment y/n’s barrier disappeared Morax stormed inside. He destroyed everything he could get his hands on. I… I was with him.” Xiao was enraged at the news of your demise, but he knew as he watched the back of his Archon as took the lives of the lowly monks who dared try to outrank you that the grief and emotions Morax felt course through him far outweighed his own. 

By day's end, the entire palace, surrounding village, and temple were all up in flames or crushed into rubble. Standing among the burning wreckage that stunk of ash, blood and death Morax plunged his polearm into the earth and screamed with no one left to witness him aside from Xiao. Instead of trying to approach his archon, he instead kept his eyes on the remains of buildings going up in flames like a personal pyre in remembrance of you. 

“After that, Morax stopped talking about her to anyone. It was like he pushed her into the recesses of his mind and tried to erase her altogether. With the meeting of other Archons and the assembly of Liyue, it seemed like he was trying to move forward.” 

“Poor Zhongli,” Paimon whined. “Star crossed lovers sure are sad to think about.” 

“To this day, there’s no one y/n has cared for as deeply as Morax.” At Xiao’s confession, Traveler’s ears perked. Did they hear that right? 

“Hold on,” they started, “what do you mean ‘to this day’?” Xiao’s body stiffened. He cleared his throat before he looked away, hoping that silence would push past his slip up. “Xiao!” 

“It meant nothing.” 

“Liar.” 

“I am not.” 

“Paimon thinks so too!” 

“Your input does not encourage much.” 

“Hey!” 

“Xiao,” Traveler tries again, arms crossing over their chest as they straighten their sitting posture on the stone they still sat on. Xiao cursed himself at deflating so easily in the face of the blond’s pressure. 

The Adeptus took after his Archon in that sense it would seem. 

“If you can keep it a secret,” he hesitated, “then I have somewhere to take you.” Xiao’s face turned back and looked the Traveler into the eyes.  They could see just house uneasy his gaze was, yet still under it was a stern ���this is important’ before everything else. They nodded deeply towards him and force another sigh from his lips. The two of them jump from their stone seats as Xiao points in a direction. “Then follow me.” 

“Paimon can keep a secret too!” 

“Somehow, I doubt that.” Still, Xiao let her follow him too. The more the merrier you’d say- or at least he hopes. 

“I had no idea there was a place like this in Liyue!” Paimon exclaims after Xiao had taken both her and the Traveler along a path through the forests and into a clearing. After approaching what appeared to be nothing, his figured seemed to pass through something. The two who accompanied him both gawked at his sudden disappearance into thin air before he was reappearing from nowhere. ‘Hurry up,’ he had told them as they cautiously followed his once again disappearing back. 

Beyond the boundary of nothingness was a fairly large home that was longer than the clearing thy where previously in. The path forward was lined with trees and during the daytime they provided comfortable shade for any who walked under them. Now though, they just casted nighttime shadows of moonlight. The air felt different from the forest’s air as well. As if it had been filtered through something and made even cleaner than normal. 

Xiao walked with confidence through the path of trees and up the steps of the elongated home like he had done it a million times before. He didn’t even stop to check and make sure that both Traveler and Paimon were still behind him and hadn’t instead wandered off. The lanterns that lit the halls cast moving shadows along the walls and they danced off Xiao’s back as they continued to trail after his heels. 

Soon, he came to a stop outside a set of doors before looking at Traveler briefly then back again. He knocked twice around the hardened sides of the doorframe and didn’t wait for any signs of noise before taking further action. Sliding them open, he stepped inside and the Traveler and Paimon naturally followed.  

It was a large room, a small floor desk tucked away on one side littered with papers, books and ink. Another set of doors opposite from the ones he had just walked through led out to an open terrace that further pushed out into a stone garden. On the opposite side of the room was an unfurled, messy futon that lacked a body to rest inside it. 

Xiao sighed at seeing the empty futon and made his way out the doors to the wooden terrace. Apparently he had found who he was looking for since he began to speak and it wasn’t to the Traveler. 

“Why are you not resting?” 

“How could I when I have visitors?” A voice answered him and it made the skin on the Traveler’s face flush. It sounded clear like bells and was as soft as a gentle stream. Holding such composure- it reminded them of Zhongli’s voice and how aged it was. Xiao backed up into the room again as someone had came inside. 

The dark hour left the woman mostly unseen, but Xiao was quick to start lighting a lantern for light. 

“Thank you, Xiao,” she commented as the wick began to burn with a flickering flame. Traveler’s face remained flush at the woman in front of them. She didn’t just sound wise, she looked it. Like she had seen many years and experienced many things- but still looked so young. Xiao moved to her side and Traveler didn’t need to ask if the woman in front of them was who they thought she was. “Are you friends of Xiao’s?” 

“Yes,” Traveler whispered before they cleared their throat and answered again. “Yes, we are.”

“I see.” Xiao cleared his own throat, turning his head away at the gaze the woman sent him. Luckily the lantern didn’t light the room the greatest so his tinted cheeks stayed between the duo and didn’t reach the Traveler’s eyes. Looking back, she smiled warmly and it seemed exactly like how Zhongli explained. “It’s lovely to meet you both. My name is y/n.” 

“WHAT?!” Paimon exclaimed before slapping her hands over her mouth. Both at the discourtesy and the late hour she had yelled into. 

“I assume you have a great deal of questions,” you tell them, “but, for now I think we should table all that for tomorrow. You’re both more than welcome to stay here for the night. Xiao can lead the way for you.” 

With that, somehow the two travel companions ended up in a guest room with two futons and Xiao telling them to get some rest before leaving and presumably going back to your side. 

You had once again left your room to sit on the terrace and Xiao joined you. Sitting beside you, his head coming up to your shoulder in height as you both looked and focused on nothing. 

“Are you upset with me?” He asked. 

“Not particularly, no. Shocked, maybe. I wasn’t expecting someone else to follow in behind you from the forest.” 

“I apologize.” 

“There’s no need.” You slowly bring your hand up to rest on the back of Xiao’s head, a comfort to both him and you. Just like how Xiao described you as a mother, you didn’t ever think of him as anything less than what you assumed a son would be like. “It’s actually helped me with something that’s been on my mind lately.” 

Xiao just grabbed onto the sleeve of the robe you wore, not saying anything but conveying enough for you to understand. 

“I’ll explain it tomorrow. For now, how about a lullaby?” Even from the guest room and with Paimon already asleep, the Traveler could hear a faint song in the air before drifting to sleep. 

“Sooo, how old are you?” 

“Paimon!” Traveler yelled. “That’s rude!” 

“I was just asking a question!” 

“Ask a different one!”

The small squabble that earned a sigh from Xiao the next morning led you into a small laughing fit. The group of you were gathered in a drawing room used for when Xiao would visit you during your days. You’d spend time listening to things Xiao would encounter outside, and while it was a good way to pass the time you would otherwise spend alone, it felt better with more lively guests like this. 

“Xiao’s older than I am, so please rest assured I’m younger than you think.” 

“Xiao’s older?!” 

“Ahem,” the Yaksha interrupts by clearing his throat, “age matters aside, don’t you think now would be a good time for an explanation. If we’re gone from Liyue too long, Zhon- er- Rex Lapis could get suspicious.” 

“Why’d you correct yourself like that Xiao?” Paimon asks before you answer for him. 

“He feels like Morax’s mortal name makes me uncomfortable. I’ve told him time and time again that it doesn’t bother me, but he insists on using his other titles. Feel free to keep referring to him as you’re used to, I won’t get confused.” 

“How considerate of him,” Paimon dryly says, pulling another chuckle from you. 

“In any case, Xiao is right. I assume he told you about me, seeing as he brought you here himself.” 

“Sort of,” Traveler starts. “Zhongli is actually the one who told us about you. Xiao just told us more.” A shocked look passes over your features when you hear that the former Archon had opened up about you at all. “He said that someone from his past died around this time and we were worried about him. We kind of… pressured him into telling us.” 

“I don’t think that’s true,” Xiao said as he crossed his arms. “If Rex Lapis truly didn’t wish to speak about it, he wouldn't have. Believe me. He’s too stubborn.” 

“Be nice,” you lightly chide him. “Still, it’s a shock. I thought he would’ve buried his memories of me long ago.” 

“I’ve told you,” Xiao spoke up again, “Rex Lapis- he still-” 

“Xiao.” Your voice was stern for a moment before he clammed up. 

“Sorry,” he spoke defeatedly. Instead of staying quiet and letting the awkward air cloud up the room, he started up the discussion of why he had brought outsiders here in the first place. “Traveler, do you remember when I told you that Lady y/n had been executed?” Traveler nodded and was shocked at his use of a title. He didn’t use one at all when he was talking about you yesterday? Did he always address you personally like that? “Do you also recall how I mentioned how before she was killed, she was cursed.” 

“Oh yeah,” Paimon acknowledges. “Paimon remembers you saying something like that.” 

“It’s because of that curse that she’s still alive.” 

“They cursed her not to die? Doesn’t that seem kinda dumb since they apparently executed her for not defeating Zhongli?” Paimon’s face scrunched before her entire being deflated. “Paimon doesn’t get it.” 

“That isn’t quite correct. I can die,” you inform them. Xiao’s fist twitched as his gently grasped the fabric of his pants in his palms. “In fact, I have died several times. The curse i bare is that I cannot stay dead.” 

“Isn’t that still contradictory to what the monk’s were trying to accomplish?” Traveler asks. 

“Not necessarily. Back in my original life, I had broken a vow I had been raised on: placing my people above myself and never being selfish. That one sacred vow being broken was enough for Jiang to label me a treasonous traitor. This eternal life of mine is punishment for that crime.” 

“That’s so dumb!” Paimon exclaims. You continue to explain after she’s finished huffing. Her puffy face was quite amusing to look at as she crossed her small arms like she was offended on your behalf. 

“My curse resets my life to the point in time I was killed. Therefore, any injuries or illnesses I received in previous lives have all but vanished. I can still starve and freeze to death. I can become ill and contract diseases just like a normal mortal. I’ll die if I'm stabbed and I’ll scar if I’m burned. Still, even after all that, I’ll simply wake up again like none of it happened. This prolonged suffering is what Jiang and his acolytes were after.” 

“That’s terrible,” Traveler whispers. “Have you died many times?” 

“I’ve lost count.” You raise your hand to look at your palm that has been the same as the first time you woke up from death. In the ruins of your destroyed temple you were foggy minded and confused before your entire being filled with dread. “I’ve lived so many lives I cannot remember them all, but I know I’ve touched on every type. I’ve gone mad, harming people around me and myself. I’ve given in to every sin in hopes that they would allow me to die and not come back. I’ve even tried ending the cycle myself, but all to no avail.” 

You took a deep breath before dropping your hand back to your lap. 

“As stained as I am now, I’m hardly the priestess I used to be. I can never be that pure original version of me, but I’ve long accepted that. I’m quite… content with my life right now.” 

“Content my foot,” Xiao huffed. “You were planning to stay alone for a lot longer if I hadn’t found you.” 

“Wait,” Paimon piques, “found you?” 

“It was purely by chance,” you explain. “Sometimes, I’ll venture into Liyue but under a cloaked disguise so I’m not recognized or detected. Some years ago, I accidentally ran into Xiao near Wangshuu Inn and spoke his name purely out of reflex. He heard me and well, it was safe to say he wasn’t exactly pleased as he tracked me down.” 

“I was frustrated,” he corrected. “I came to find out you were alive and hiding for eons after thinking you were long dead.” 

“I know.” 

“Imagine how Morax would feel if he knew!” 

“I know, Xiao,” you repeat. “That’s something I actually want to talk to you about.” Xiao stills in his rampage before his arms slowly uncurl and his posture takes on something uncomfortable. “You’ve kept my life a secret for some time now, omnienting the truth from the Archon you respect so much. I’m sorry for asking such a selfish request.” You turn to look at the slack faced boy before bringing your hand to cup his chin affectionately. Traveler felt like they were impeding on a parental moment as they tried to look anywhere but you both. “If you want to, you can tell him the truth now.” 

Xiao’s hand comes to quickly clasp around your wirst that started to fall away from his face. His mouth opens before it closes again. He was torn between what he’s been wanting to do for so long and the open permission to actually do it. 

“Are you… for certain?” 

“Yes,” you swallow a lump in your throat. “I’m certain.” Xiao quickly takes your wrist out of his grip before he’s rushing to stand up. He stands with such a force he teeters on his feet before going to the door. He didn’t want to wait a single moment longer. “Xiao!” He stops momentarily and he’s reminded just for a brief moment how you spoke his name like that to his back the first day he ever met you milinia ago. This time though, he spun to look you in the eyes. “Take this with you,” you had gotten up from your place and placed your hand out of a nearby window. Bringing it back in not longer after, an insect of glimmering colors hummed through the space and landed on his shoulder. 

“A dragonfly!” Paimon exclaims as Traveler also rose to their feet ready to follow Xiao out. Xiao just nods before dashing out of the door. Being inside your barrier always made it hard for him to teleport between locations, so he had to get outside first. “Traveler, lets catch up with Xiao!” Paimon says, pointing after him. 

“Yeah,” they agree before looking back to you as you stay by at the window. 

“Get going now,” you urge before Traveler was awkwardly bowing to you and running out, calling Xiao’s name to try and get him to ‘slow down and wait up!’ 

Once alone again, you felt a coil settle in your chest. It was the same tightness you felt when Xiao had found you. Found out you were alive as you confessed everything to his insistent pleading after following you into your barrier. You braced your hands on the window pane before swallowing a lump in your throat. 

You never got the proper chance to tell Morax how you felt about him in your original life. It was wrong for a mortal like you to fall in love with a god- much less in the middle of a world altering war. You would’ve been far more foolish to confess your feelings than you were when you let him go. 

The tight coil only grows barbed spikes as you remember the last time you ever saw him. Laying beneath you as you pinned him down. Standing before you as you demanded him away. Feeling the empty air as he vanished right before you eyes. 

Xiao had told you that he was the one responsible for destroying your home. Burning it all down and destroying everything in his sight all because you had died. He was so filled with anguish and you didn’t know if you fully believed it. Xiao insisted that Morax hasn’t cared for a single soul as much as he cared for you. Even know as he lived as Zhongli you still hadn’t been replaced. You didn’t know if you believed that either. 

“I won’t regret this… will I?” You ask no one as you feel yourself start to pathetically cry. “Weak,” you call yourself as you stand alone in the empty home you constructed for yourself long ago. 

“Did you find him yet?” Traveler asks Xiao as they met back up in the middle of Liyue. Zhongli wasn’t at the funeral parlor and Hu Tao didn’t know where he had meandered off to before they came looking for him. He wasn’t at his home nor was he listening to that storyteller at Three-Round Knockout like usual. “Last place is the harbor. He was at the bridge when we found him, so let’s go look.” 

They made haste to the bridge, but with crestfallen faces it was devoid of any kind of descended Archon. They were about to recollect their thoughts and try and figure out if there was any other place he frequented they could try when someone spoke up behind them. 

“You all seem troubled,” the familiar voice of Zhongli startled all three of them as they all whipped around to look at him. He looked as composed as usual, maybe even a bit better than yesterday. Maybe airing some of his grievances helped him out a bit after all. Still, who knows how the news Xiao had for him would effect his mental well being. 

“Rex- ahem- Zhongli, I need to speak with you.” In the heat of the moment, Xiao almost addressed him as Rex Lapis. Calling him that in the middle of the busy day would be a mistake, so it was good he caught himself. Zhongli looked at Xiao’s steadfast gaze and let it travel over to the blond and their companion who’s always had an issue keeping quiet. 

“You all look stiff, like something has happened.” 

“That’s Zhongli for you,” Paimon remarks. “Always perceptive.” 

“So, it’s as I surmised.” 

“I’ll explain everything, but it can’t be here.” Xiao stepped in. 

“I understand,” Zhongli sighs. “Come with me. We can talk outside the city away from any possible prying ears. I would prefer to not be cooped up indoors.” 

Just like the day before, Zhongli took the group out to the same river Xiao did; it was far from the people and now he stood cross-armed and ready for any sort of explanation. Traveler stayed quiet, knowing it was Xiao’s wish to say something first and made sure Paimon stayed quiet too. If anything, they were there to make sure nothing got out of hand- this was truly between them. 

“On behalf of someone else’s word, I’ve been keeping something from you. It’s about… It’s about, y/n.” 

“Xiao,” Zhongli bit and Xiao felt the words get stuck in his throat the moment your name left his mouth. Zhongli’s tone was already on edge. Just the mention of your name was enough to make the Archon nearly growl. The former divine being had been feeling the blanket of grief hold him down more this year than previous ones, the fact that he opened up about you just the day prior to the Traveler made old wounds throb. The last thing he wanted was to talk about you and make everything hurt all over again for another time. 

“I understand you don’t want to talk about her, but please hear me out.” 

“I will not entertain whatever thoughts you think you need to say. Y/n died a long time ago, you should leave her in the past.” His words were ironic since he himself couldn’t even do that. 

“You don’t understand.” 

“Xiao.” 

“Please, she-” 

“Enough!” 

“She’s still alive!” Xiao, fed up with his god not letting him get a word in, blurted it out. He inwardly recoiled, not wanting to just say it like that. He wanted to ease into it, try and slowly explain it so Zhongli would accept it easier. “Y/n, she’s… she’s alive.” 

There was silence so heavy it kept Xiao’s head down with an invisible force. His eyes stayed locked onto the boots of the one person who he respected the most. If he had never felt fear before this very moment, now would be the perfect introduction to it as he felt the burning gaze of Zhongli on his skull. 

“Is that an attempt at a ill-advised jest,” Zhongli’s voice put on a dangerous tone. It was understandable and justified however. Who would just believe that the one mortal an Archon fell in love with thousands of years ago was alive? It sounded ludacris and Zhongli did not enjoy feeling like a fool. 

“He’s telling the truth!” Paimon defended. Her mental restraint on not talking snapped at seeing Xiao look so meak under Zhongli’s overwhelming stature. Zhongli’s gaze shifted from Xiao to Paimon who squealed at the intensity before flying to hide behind the Traveler’s shoulder. His gaze was hard, stern, and angry. 

“What could you possibly know? You only just learned about who she was through me- without my telling you so, y/n would be only a memory shared between Xiao and myself alone.” 

“We know because we met her,” Traveler tell him. His fists clench and his jaw locks. 

Zhongli couldn't stand lies or liars, and yet he wanted everything the group in front of him said to be bold face lies. Zhongli trusted the Traveler and Xiao the most out of almost anyone he knew presently. He trusted them with his secret and they always tried their best in their own duties and goal to find their sibling. He respected them and trusted them with his life as both Zhongli and Rex Lapis. 

But did he trust them with your life? 

With the promise of you being alive coming from Xiao and backed up by the Traveler, the former Archon was notably torn. He didn’t want to get his hopes up and have this all be some sort of illusion. A trick of the mind that will leave him crumbling just like the day he first lost you. He didn’t thinking he could take that kind of anguish again. 

The Traveler stepped up and took Xiao’s hand in one of theirs and the other took hold of Zhongli’s. Paimon floated out from behind them as the blond made both of the immortal being bring their gazes up to them. 

“Xiao can take you to her just like he did with us. Y/n is waiting.” The curled fist of Zhongli’s lessened enough to wrap around the Traveler’s comforting touch. He looked back at Xiao who had been looking at the blond with such gratefulness for salvaging the situation before calling his attention back. His amber gaze had loosened up, but they weren’t the normal eyes of Zhongli. Morax was peeking around the irises of the tallest among the group. 

“This is no lie?” 

“I would never lie to you.” 

“Yes,” he breathed out, “I know.” He took a breath, feeling so embarrassingly out of character. It was then that he noticed the small insect that had been on Xiao this whole time. The trio had seemed to forget you sent them back with the dragonfly, but Zhongli knew. He sucked in a breath as he looked at it. “Take me to see her at once,” he commanded. Xiao wasted no time in teleporting all three of his companions to the edge of your barrier he had memorized the location of. 

Zhongli’s hand was dropped by the Outworlder as he walked to the edge of it. He could sense the familiar power from years past and reached his hand up to place his palm on it. It bent with his palm like a bubble before it pushed through, rippling the distorted view of cloaked foliage behind it. He hesitated, but a slight push at his back had him walking in- well, stumbling in. 

His face mirrored the Traveler’s when they had first seen the area behind the barrier. He could feel you everywhere and his body started moving before he could stop. Xiao and Traveler called after him as he took off into a sprint towards the house under the tree’s shadows. It felt like a ribbon had tied itself around his wrist and was yanking him forward. The dragonfly that had sat perched and patient on Xiao had taken off with Zhongli, acting as a guide as it flew in front of him. 

“Take me to her,” he pleaded with the buzzing bug. “Like last time,” he remembered how a similar bug had led him to you that first time. He felt so vulnerable as he ran into the house, barging through the doors and dashing through halls with abandon. Zhongli felt mortal with his emotions controlling his actions and his desperation oozing out of his very core. He should be in better control of himself, but he can’t control his body no matter how much he tries. “Take me to her!” 

The dragonfly had flown to a corridor that led into a vast open space. Stairs of three steps led out into an open garden with bushes, flowers, and carefully created paths to walk. It was a far cry from the overgrown, wild garden of the past. A stone canopy held up with four strong pillars covered the peaceful place from the sun and a small stone table sat among the paths intersection. 

His breath was labored, chest heaving as the dragonfly continued out into the garden and his pace slowed down until the insect had taken a turn just outside the cover of the canopy. The dragonfly stopped, perching itself on an outstretched finger and Zhongli almost collapsed. 

“Thank you,” you said to the dragonfly before it lifted off your finger and took off in a random direction, its job fulfilled. The sun bathed you in a golden light Zhongli could remember from eon’s ago and as he stared at you, a tear fell heavily and unstrained from his eye. 

You weren’t sure what to say as you looked at him, but when you saw that tear fall you were ready to immediately apologzie. You never got the chance. Instead you were frozen in surprise when he had somehow appeared directly in front of you and encased you to himself. 

Sealing his body to yours, his arm wrapped around your lower back and one of his hands pushed your head against his neck. His back curled inwards, bending you backward enough so that your back arched and he could form you to him even further. You were so warm and he felt himself choke as his nose took in your scent from atop your head. It was different from before, but he could still smell you in it- altered or not. It proved that you weren’t some fake, you were real.

Zhongli nuzzled into the top of your head, greedily taking in everything of you he could. You had placed your hands on his sides before sliding them up to his back. One of your hands snagged into the fabric of his coat and the other stayed wound around his back. He could feel you start to shake and he felt a bit better than he wasn’t the only one overly-emotional. 

“You’re alive,” he whispers into your hair, voice cracking enough the wind could easily pick it up and take it somewhere far away. You just nodded into his chest as he somehow gripped you to him tighter, closer. “You’re alive,” he repeats like he’s trying to convince himself this isn’t a dream. 

“Yes,” you sob. “Yes.” 

As the two of you stood under the sun in a garden different from the one in his memories, he took no notice of the three other figures who had finally caught up to him after taking off on his own. Xiao felt a weight lift off his chest at seeing you two finally reunited and Traveler gently took his head in comfort. He had no chance to get embarrassed at the action, instead he just squeezed it back as he watched his long-seperated family cling to each other. 

Xiao felt whole again for this one moment and he knew that you both did too. 

“I’ve missed you so,” Zhongli confesses into your locks and you almost laugh if it wasn’t choked up on your dying sobs turned to sad sniffles. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.” 

“I’m sorry,” you sniff as you let your arms slowly start to retract from him. He knew that things needed to be discussed and explanations needed to start somewhere, but he was reluctant to let go. His arms released you, but his palms were quick to gently cup your cheeks instead to tilt your face up to him. Your eyes were swollen and the whites of them irritated due to your tears. He looked no better.

Zhongli ran his gloved thumbs over your cheeks and across your eyes when you closed them when he got too close with his touch. He planted his feet between yours before pushing his forehead on yours and choosing to bask in your sun bathed body before anything close to closure ensues. 

“Um,” you break the silence, but like last time, nothing else gets out before your interrupted. 

“Call me by my name.” 

“What?” 

“My name,” he repeats. “Please.” He didn’t want to hear his mortal name or any of his other countless name and titles he’s collected over the years.  No. His ears yearned for the name you knew him by. After all this time, he just wanted you to call him-

“Morax.” 

Zhongli collapsed at last. His hands that cupped your cheeks dropped as did he. He came to his knees in front of you, his empty hands easily latching onto yours in lieu of your cheeks. His head hung as he sat- kneeled- at your feet. You shuffled in astonishment and shock as he took your hands and pushed them against his forehead pleadingly. 

“Again.” 

“Morax,” you whispered and he could hear the embarrassment in your tone. He chuckled as a shiver ran through his entire being. 

“Once more.” 

“You’re being spoiled.” 

“I think I’m more than qualified.” He hears you chuckle and he could perish right here in this very instant without regret at the sound. It was just as he remembered.

“Morax.” 

“This time,” he starts speaking as he feels you slowly start to join him on the ground. Your hands had twisted in his grasp to hold them back. “This time,” he starts again, “you’ll stay with me, won’t you?” 

You pull both of your encased hands to your lips, kissing his gloves and he wishes he took them off. His wish must’ve been yours as well since you slowly started to remove his gloves and revealed the dark, golden imbedded skin he kept hidden to the public eye. Your eyes remained closed as you worked, like you had dreamed of doing this so many times you didn’t need your sight. Once again, you placed your lips on his knuckles and it was like his skin was alight with lava. 

Reopening your eyes, you adjusted your hands so that your fingers were now interlaced, fingertips resting on top of each other’s hands as your palms were on the warm ground to lean closer to him. You push your forehead back against his, breathing in his air that became tangled with your own. Smiling so softly at him that he released one of your intertwined hands to push his fingers into your hair behind your ear and pull you even closer to him. He wondered if he could meld your very existence into his own and become the earth itself among the garden.  

“I’ll stay until you don’t want me,” you declare.  

“I’ll never not want you, my dear. We have too much time to make up for and many stories to share, should time continue to allow it.”

“Time is nothing but a concept to me now,” you chuckle bitterly. You would tell him about it all later, but now wasn’t the time. It would dampen the mood too bitterly for your tastes.  

A contract was made under the sun behind a barrier that had kept you concealed and hidden from his faze. Your intertwined hands were the signatures finalizing that contract. Zhongli wasn’t ever going to let you slip through his fingers again- he promised himself that as he held tighter onto your warmth and you to his. 

Zhongli couldn’t wait to finally give you the hairstick he had held onto for a millenia in your memory. Even more, he couldn’t wait to see it glimmer under your locks of hair since there was nothing and no one holding you back anymore.  

a/n: pls god like/reblog/tell me your thoughts. this is babies first genshin fic and it's got so many words im so anxious i could throw up. i only edited this like one and a half times bc words became mushy and my eyeballs started melting. pls excuse the shift between past and present tense, my eyeballs - as aforementioned- are melting

if @scara7102 sees this it wouldn't let me tag you uh oh

[lokisprettygirl]

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 35 here/ Series Masterlist

Chapter 36

Summary : Loki's torture ends as after years of separation he finds his way back to you.

Warning: 18+, HUGE Canon divergence (Just me making shit up), timey wimey stuff topics dealing with cheating and falling out of love, mention of pregnancy, infertility, gif is how he looked ;)

When Loki had chosen to fix the timeline again he knew he'd be in his own personal hell that he himself had created for the next few years of his life. When Frigga died all he wanted to do was run back to you so you'd hold him in your arms and comfort him but he couldn't.

After the events of Svartalfheim he pretended to be deceased and moved to midgard for a while until Thor had found him again.. he had promised the ancient one that he wouldn't interfere in your life and he didn't, first few weeks were the hardest for him, worst, at times he thought that he'd rather go through Thanos's torture again then go through this.

He wasn't able to sleep or do anything but he stayed strong, for you, for both of you. He missed you with every inch of his life, the only thing keeping him going forward was the assurance that each and every day was only bringing him closer to you.

Seven years was a long time, every morning as he awakened he thought of you and his heart broke in pieces as he realized that you must have been sad and lonely at times as well, feeling as if you're life was meaningless, fearing that you'd never fall in love with a man, would never feel the heat you so badly craved and he knew you'd feel that way for a long time to come. And he wouldn't be able to stop you from hurting this way, he really wished he could have loved you better than this but he felt helpless, time was never really on his side.

For a god seven years weren't really much but you were just a mortal.. and he knew with every passing year you were only losing more hope, losing more life as he just moved on with his own and did nothing..

Two years passed somehow and he knew you'd go on to marry Strange during this time period, he knew all about what was going to happen and he couldn't stop the precious love of his life as she got tied to another man.

As she became a wife but certainly not his.

....

"Happy birthday sweetheart" you heard your mom's voice on the phone , she was the only one to call you after Mrs Geller, at least they remembered your birthday because your own husband didn't.

"Thanks mom, what are you doing?" you asked her so she sighed,

"Y/n you know you are 35 now, you don't have much time left, are you both planning to have kids or not?" you groaned internally as she said that. You haven't really told her the truth yet. Sure your sex life was as bland as a weak tea but that didn't mean you didn't want kids of your own, you really did but nothing worked.

Even though your body was healthy and hospitable as your doctors had told you, you couldn't just get pregnant, you thought maybe Stephen was infertile but he was perfectly fine in that department as well, it was a medical mystery why you weren't able to get pregnant.

"Is that the only thing you think of all the time mom?" You asked her, bit annoyed by her inquiry. Well you were very annoyed.

"Of Course I do"

She answered so you rolled your eyes, once she hung up you got out of the bed and got ready for work, as you stepped out in the living room Stephen was there on the kitchen table reading a newspaper. As your eyes met with each other he gave you a smile that never really reached his eyes whenever he was around you. You didn't blame him either.

"Good morning" you mumbled as you made your way to the kitchen to make a quick breakfast for yourself.

"Morning, I'm off to Philadelphia today and won't return for a week" he told you nonchalantly so you nodded.

"Well..Drive safely" he chuckled as you said that.

"You don't have to worry about that anymore " he smirked so you resisted the urge to roll your eyes again.

Two years ago he had gotten into a bad accident that had almost ended his life. Doctors had told him that he'd never be able to operate again but then he went to Nepal and apparently found a mystic healer or something, you couldn't believe your eyes when he had returned perfectly fine as if nothing had happened to him, however you did notice a slight change in his demeanor, he was less arrogant and more sympathetic towards you.

For a few weeks your relationship with him had gotten better but then it fizzled again, your heart was never in the right place when you married him, you knew you shouldn't have married him. You shouldn't have married him because you sure as hell weren't in love with him, as much as you had all these fantasies about a magical love life since you were eight, it never really happened to you. You never found a man who made your heart skip a beat with his presence, gave you butterflies that would leave you gushing for days or made you feel heated just by his mere touch.

When you turned turned thirty two you had just accepted that not everyone was destined to find that sort of love so you settled for Stephen and he settled for you, though you didn't understand his reasons, because he sure as hell wasn't in love with you either.

A year later you finally built the courage to ask for a divorce and much to your surprise he agreed almost immediately, that's when he confessed to you that he had been having an affair with his colleague Christine, not that it gave you a whiplash or made you feel betrayed, you had a feeling he wasn't faithful to you.

You had been cheated on before and were still carrying the scars it had left behind but with Stephen it didn't even hurt, you were equally responsible for this, sure you never cheated on him but you were never really there either, he never really felt like a lover to you, there was no romantic love between you two and it was proven as you two had met at your parents' anniversary a few months later after the divorce, that's when you knew that a platonic friendship is what you needed from him.

You were enjoying a life where you weren't trapped in a forced loveless marriage but that wasn't to say that you liked being alone, you despised it, all you wanted to do was find a man who'd love you as crazily as you'd love him but you knew you weren't blessed enough to find him.

Even when you met guys who you felt a miniscule amount of attraction for -they were either too young or too old, and both didn't seem interested in you in that way, you would turn forty in a few years, your time had ended but accepting it was way harder than one could imagine.

The hopeless romantic in you just wanted to find love, it didn't want to give up but with every passing year you were losing your will to go on, you have always felt so hollow from deep within, but it only got worse as you entered this decade of your life. You still remembered crying all night on your 30th birthday, now you wanted to go back to being thirty again, that felt much better than this..

Ever since you had turned thirty you always felt as if you were missing a piece of your heart, as if someone owned it but you didn't remember who. You always felt as if there was a man out there for you but you weren't able to find him anywhere, as if he wasn't even from this planet.

Few more months later Stephen invited you to his birthday bash in NYC. You had moved back to Minnesota post the divorce so he flew you in and even arranged for your stay. A free lavish trip wasn't the offer you were going to say no to so the night of his birthday you put on a fancy green dress, the thin straps had cute hearts shapes attached to it and after a long time you actually felt good about yourself. You had been working out, taking care of yourself, doing everything you could to still feel a little hopeful in life and it worked until your head finally hit the bed at night and made you aware of how miserable your life has become.

As you reached the venue you met Christine and things were unsurprisingly good between you two, she was a good woman, she understood Stephen and loved him the way you never did. He deserved that. Also apparently he was a superhero now but you still didn't understand what he actually did or what his purpose was. Sometimes you really sucked at being a nice person and taking interest in other people's lives.

After dancing for a bit you felt very tired so you told Christine you were going to grab a drink.

You sat down next to a gentleman in a black suit, he was attractive. He probably was the most attractive man you had seen in your life, his raven hair went past his shoulders and when he looked at you, those green eyes bored right into your soul. You also felt as if you had seen him before, you felt as if you had known him for years.

Usually men such as him made you feel extremely nervous around themselves and insecure in a weird way but for some unknown reason you felt calm with him..

"Sorry i didn't mean to stare, i felt as if i had seen you somewhere" he chuckled as you said that, that mere smile gave you butterflies. What was happening to you? This wasn't like you at all. You had never felt such an intense attraction towards a man before, not this way.

As soon as Loki saw you from across the dance floor, all the feelings that he had been suffocating for seven years were threatening to explode but he kept his cool, you didn't remember him and he had to do it in a way that wouldn't make you feel scared of him. He had waited years to find you again, he could wait more.

"Perhaps you have seen me on the news, I invaded your planet with an army a few years ago" your eyes widened in realization as he said that.

"Oh my god you're Loki '' you said to him and he turned his head to look at you, his lips sipped on the neat whiskey he had ordered for himself. Gorgeous gorgeous guy you thought, of course he was, he was a literal god. You and your standards you thought.

"For a moment I was afraid my popularity had plummeted around here" you let out a nervous laughter as he said that. He had clearly caught you checking him out.

"Noo i.. I read about you at the time, saw you in the news ..my ex husband actually made me see why we were supposed to hate you" you mumbled as you airquoted your sentence, a bit ashamed by the reveal, you still remembered your first date with Stephen where he just ranted against Loki, so why was he there at his birthday party now?

"Well I hope your feelings are not the same anymore" you gulped as the intense eye contact made you feel flushed. Your cheeks felt warm so warm and all you wanted to do was lean into him like a pervert.

"So what are you doing here?" You asked him to avoid feeling those butterflies that were swarming in your belly.

"I was summoned here for a crucial discussion," he answered you.

"Ohhh" you mumbled.

"I watched you dancing over there" your ears perked up as he said that. There were so many gorgeous, young and gorgeous women at the party, why was he watching you? Men that looked like him never went for women like you.

"You did?" You cleared your throat as you spoke,

"You have a way with your hips don't you?" Was he flirting with you? Oh god it's been years since a man this attractive had flirted with you. A man you actually wanted to flirt with you.

"Ummm well i wanted to be a dancer once" you mumbled and suddenly felt like a fool.

"I can tell, makes me think of other situations where you could show me how those hips could work" you bit on your lips as he said that. Loki's entire self grimaced as he was clearly being obscene with you, but he was pretending to be the confident asshole he was known as, however as he noticed the way you had blushed he found himself craving your touch. It's been seven years for norns sake.

He placed his fingers on your chin to make you look at him and brought his lips to your ears, if he was some other guy you would have pushed him away by now but for some reason you felt hypnotized by his mere presence, everything about him enchanted you, you felt as if you were under his influence, his cologne attacked your senses and all you wanted to do was kiss him.

You had never felt such scorching heat with someone in your life, you never thought you'd ever get to feel it either, you didn't think it existed for you.

"Care for a dance?" He whispered in your ears and you could only whine in response which he took as a yes. His fingers laced with yours as he dragged you to a secluded corner of the hall.

Baby, you can

Ride it, ooh, yeah

Bring it over to my place

"Nice song isn't it?" He whispered in your ear so you hummed in response, it existed because of you and you didn't even know that, you were the one to send the lyrics of the song to Mark Johnson in the hope that it'll get sent to the artist. Apparently it did.

You moved slowly with him to the rhythm of the music, he placed his hands on your lower back and the action made you gasp, dipping you down slowly before he pulled you up, smushing you so close to him in a moment, your chest were pressed to him, you were too close to man you barely knew.

And you be like

"Baby, who cares?"

But I know you care

Bring it over to my place

Your hips rolled in circles and hands curled around his neck, what was this feeling? Your lips were so close to him but he wasn't kissing you, even though you wanted him to just kiss you desperately.

You don't know what you did, did to me

Your body lightweight speaks to me

I don't know what you did, did to me

Your body lightweight speaks to me

"Goddd" You whispered and a small smile curved the corner of his mouth.

"There you are i have been looking for you"

You heard Stephen's voice so you pulled away from the man you had met a few minutes ago. Even after the divorce was finalized you still felt weird about being close with another man around him.

"What happened?" You looked at him and he snickered in response.

"I was talking to him, I called him here to discuss something important"

You directed your attention towards Loki and he smiled at you before he looked you up and down from head to toe then he leaned into you to press a goodbye kiss on your cheek,

"See me again sometime later?"

You nodded as he said that, he walked towards your ex husband and went along with him, his smell lingered around you still and you had to sit down in order to calm down your nerves.

You had never felt this way before, you had lost all hope of finding a man you'd feel this level of attraction for and now you were almost thirty seven and a literal god was showing interest in you. A god. You wanted to scream because you knew he was unattainable, maybe he was just looking for a one night stand, of course he did. Guys weren't really looking to marry you at your age. At Least not men like him.

Strange had invited you here but he was missing from his own party so after a while you made your way upstairs to tell him that you were going back to the hotel as you felt tired, or maybe that was just another excuse to see Loki. Not it wasn't, you weren't that desperate for a man you had just met. You had never been that person. Right?

As soon as you reached the room you knocked on the door and took a deep breath, much to your delight Loki opened the door instead.

"If I didn't know you any better i'd have made an assumption that you came here for me" Your face flushed again as he said that, the smirk on his beautiful face was apparent.

"Well You don't know me Mister. Is Stephen here?"

He smiled and stepped away so you could get in the room but as you got in you noticed that Strange wasn't there

"He went away for a moment" Loki said to you so you sighed and turned around to look at him

"Umm okay..will you please tell him that I am tired and going back to the hotel? I'm staying at the Ritz"

"Sure would my lady, I'm sure he knew that already or perhaps the invitation is for me?" He asked you and you felt your face heating up again but instead of getting nervous you got bold instead, you didn't know where it came from..

"Maybe it is"

"What room?"

Lord, was he going to visit you?

"143"

He nodded his head as you said that and you walked past him to leave the room.

"Do you even know my name?" you suddenly turned around to ask him and he gave you a soft smile in response,

"It's y/n..isn't it?"

"He told you, didn't he?"

He didn't know why his eyes teared up at the question, he had been holding himself back from just wanting to grab you and kiss you at the moment.

"He did"

As soon as you were out of the room you took a deep breath, how come you had bumped into the sexiest man you had ever laid your eyes on? Not just that but he actually seemed interested in you. Things like that just didn't happen to you so it felt a little weird. What did he want from you? Perhaps a night of debauchery? That was your best guess, only half an hour later you heard a knock on the door so you opened it and found him on the other side,

You invited him in so he looked around before he diverted the attention back at you.

"Ummm you want something to drink? I have like ummm let me check" you walked towards the mini refrigerator to rummage through it "There's coke, some alcoholic beverages, I don't know if you consume that" He chuckled as you said that.

"Don't they charge heftly for that?" He asked you curiously.

"Well my ex is paying for the room so you know" he chuckled as you said that. Norns he had missed you and all your little quirks.

"I will have whatever this Coke is supposed to be" you smiled nervously as he said that. You grabbed a can from the mini freezer and passed it to him, you were shocked a little when he opened the can without even using his fingers,

"It's a charm" he said as he found you looking a bit starstruck.

"I see.. I mean I know..you're also magical and all" He smiled as you said that, he walked closer to you and your breath quickened as he continued to reach closer and closer to you with every step.

"Have a sip lady y/n" he pressed the can right over your lips and it made you gulp.

"It's okay…I ummm" you stuttered on your words and he couldn't help but enjoy the sight of you squirming like that. It boded well for his ego that he had such an affect on you even though you didn't even remember him just yet.

"I insist, it would be rude of me to not offer" you pressed your lips on the opening of the can and he raised it up a little so you could take a sip. After you were done with the sip, he brought the can back up to his own lips and drank from it, all while his eyes stayed glued to yours. He noticed the residue of the drink on the corner of your mouth and all he wanted to do was lick it off. His thoughts were filthy. It's been seven years, that was two thousand five hundred fifty five nights of him just touching himself to your memories .

"Uhhh so how was the meeting with Stephen?" You asked him to cut through the tension..

"Atrocious, he so badly needed my assistance but the arrogant arse took a while before he admitted it" you chuckled as he said that.

"Well you should have seen him years ago before ahhh the accident..he was way worse"

"Mmmhmmm?" He walked closer to you and placed the can down on the dresser behind you "Makes me wonder why a sweet woman like you would ever hitch herself to a man such as him" He whispered, his voice remained low and husky.

"Well I thought it was the right thing to do at the time" you looked down and he figured you couldn't even look in his eyes for longer than a few seconds.

"Is that so? Did it feel right?" He put his fingers on your chin and made you look up at him, every inch of your skin began to tingle with his touch. What was he doing to you and why?

"Not really..if the divorce wasn't enough of an indication for you then let me tell you that I do regret that decision everyday of my life"

He smiled as you said that. The forest green slip dress you had on made you look delectable, there were two heart shaped ribbons attached to the top of the straps that kept the dress hanging on your body, he found it really adorable. You let out a moan as his thumb brushed over your lower lip.

"Lokiiii" the sound of his whispered name made his cock harden in a jiff but he used the charm to keep himself from showing it, he didn't want you to think as if he was there for just a night of fun.

"Apologies little one, I got carried away" He took a step back and he noticed your heavy breathing. You weren't making this any easier, he remembered the dream he had about you two before where he lived the same scenario, he knew what you were going to say to him, it always started this way between you two, with friendship, a relationship that was built in such a way could have only lasted forever, there was no other way around it.

"It's okay I just… I am still dealing with the divorce and I just.. I don't know what you thought would happen tonight and I know I invited you here basically but I ..I'm just not ready for ..you know" your eyes teared up as you mumbled, that wasn't the reason why you didn't want to sleep with him, you didn't care about the divorce, you just didn't want him to think of you as someone he could have fun with for a night and leave, his own eyes softened as he noticed the anxious look on your face.

"Whatever it is that you desire from me tonight, I will give you that darling" he said firmly so you smiled before you chuckled slightly in disbelief.

"Really? So if I tell you that I barely have any friends and I want you to be my friend first, would you be my friend?" You asked him, he could sense the mockery in your tone, he didn't blame you, he knew his reputation wasn't the best especially because of how promiscuous his brother was on midgard he figured you must have put him through the same judgment, you didn't remember him after all.

"I would love to be your friend, I do not have any either"

Your eyes widened as he said that.

"Okay so ummm okay we can be friends i guess" he smiled as he grabbed your hand and placed a formal kiss on the back.

"My lady, I won't disappoint you i promise"

He kissed your forehead and as you looked up at him all of a sudden he just felt so familiar, as if you knew him in some other life, he felt like home and you couldn't really describe why.

That night as you both stayed up and talked you found yourself getting more and more attracted to him.

Days passed and turned into weeks but he never stepped out of line or asked you for things you never wanted to do, all your life you had felt a certain emptiness in your soul, even when you felt happy at times you found yourself thinking about the missing piece of your heart, you had always felt as if you were born with half a soul and for once in your life you were starting to believe that he was it. That he was the one you had been looking for, that he was the answer to all those questions. But he felt too good to be true.

How could someone be so precious as he was?

You had no idea how complicated your relationship was with him but you were going to find out the truth on your coming birthday..he was going to change your life forever, it would never be the same again.

And that is exactly what you had wished for all your life.

🥹💚🥹💚🥹💚🥹💚🥹💚🥹💚🥹

Taglist

@annoyingsweetsstranger @mcufan72 @nixymarvelkins @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @eleniblue @violethaze @anukulee @ladymischief11 @12-pm-510 @wolfsmom1 @whylokiissocute @pics-and-fanfics @daddylokisqueen @olivertwistrabbit @blog-the-lilly @prettylittlepluviophile @vanilla-daydreaming @somewiseguy @yaaamadaa-blog @dragonmurray @elthreetimes @gruftiela @thenotoriouserg @greep215 @yallgotkik @janineb86 @sflame15-blog @nyxlaufeyson @lokidokieokie @purplekitten30 @nikkig496-blog @frozenhuntress67 @qardasngan @rosecentury @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @hrefna-the-raven @jennyggggrrr

@cosniffee @lotsoflokilove23 @oreo-cream @aesonmae @salvinaa

[we-stan-cale]

Some musings on Og!Cale...

Since I'm talking about the few canon times we see him (his dream meeting with t+Cale as well as the side story with him as KRS - t+KRS after the transmigration) this will have spoilers if you haven't read them

We don't actually see a lot from his point of view. Just that side story and meeting. But we do know that he had a whole conversation with Cale about their brother, Basen. That he talked about what it would take to make Basen the heir - which supports the theory he deliberately acted like trash in order to make Basen the heir, but we don't have actual confirmation.

Regardless, it's clear he cares for his little brother.

He also was happy to learn that the Henituse territory was now a Duchy, so he didn't seem to have any hard feelings there.

The rest? To be honest the sources are suspect.

We have things Cale thought or suspected based on tboah, which is not necessarily reliable. And we have a little bit from Ron's perspective, which is an outsider POV. He's probably telling the truth about what he saw, but it doesn't really give us ogCale's motivation or reasoning.

There's two points I want to discuss from above.

First was Cale's throwaway comment about Deruth not doing anything about ogCale's trashy behavior.

We don't really get anything more on this. We don't actually know if Deruth tried anything,or what his thoughts were. It's just Cale commenting on what he knew from the novel. Was it something Deruth could actually have done? Should he have .. idk. Taken away ogCale's allowance or given some other punishment to make him shape up?

Second was Ron's thoughts here-

Ron knew very well about the terrible things Cale has done, and the terrible personality that Cale had. However, there was someone else he knew. Ron remembered how the young Cale had consoled his father when his mother died. He also saw how Cale hated his stepmother and her family, but never caused a ruckus with them, even when he was drunk.

And I've seen people take this as a sign that Deruth wallowed in grief and ogCale had to bear the burden of cheering him up. But... It sounds like a one time thing? Like the kind of thing you might see a kid do when they realize someone is sad?

I'm not saying the first interpretation is wrong, just that we don't actually know. There's not a lot of detail.

I do think both were grieving, but we don't really see what that meant for their relationship.

The other thing is I wanted to talk about timelines.

We know that at the time of the transmigration Cale is 18, Basen (who apparently is NOT Deruth's child and presumably came with Violan) was 15 and Lily was 7, and that ogCale started acting like trash at 8.

If Lily was born soon after Deruth and Violan got married, then ogCale was probably around between 9 and 11 when that happened?

I don't think we have an exact timeline for when that happened, nor when his mother died.

Just that he was very young, and probably younger than 8 if it's related to when he started acting like trash.

Basically, we also have no reason to think Deruth moved on too quickly or anything like that.

All of which is why for his characterization I mostly focus on what little we see of him in the dream meeting and side story.

[cosmicpoutine]

Hello!

Sorry that you’re going through tough times. Let me attempt to lift your mood by some TimBerKon and StephCass thought of mine!

So you know how Tim and Steph dated, right? But did you know that, apparently, there was a moment when Kon and Cass dated? It’s canon, I swear!

I don’t know how the timeline works (because it never actually works when it comes to DC comics), but from what I heard Cass started dating Kon after “friendship break up” with Cass. I like to think it was Cass’ way of dealing with the heartache she couldn’t understand since no one properly explained romantic relationships to her. And Kon wasn’t that much of an expert in it either (no matter how much of a flirt he’s portrayed to be). So Kon and Cass getting together was their way to figure out this “romance” thing. They liked each other enough… but it wasn’t quite it.

At the time (if I’m not mistaken), Tim was dating Steph. And I can just imagine Kon and Cass looking at them adoringly, thinking it’s just “friendship feels”.

But then Steph died. And then Kon died. And Tim and Cass sought each other for comfort, both thinking that the other was mourning their partner. But the truth is that Tim was mourning Kon more than he should Steph and Cass was mourning Steph than he should Kon. And maybe that’s when it almost clicked for them.

When Steph and Kon were back, Cass was so happy to see her “bestie” that she finally understood what it is she’s feeling. What she’s been feeling for the longest time. She broke up with Kon and he let her go without fight, but they remained good friends, often reminiscing on the time they used to date with humor.

I believe Cass was very supportive of Kon when he learned that Tim was dating Bernard and thought he lost his shot. And then very excited for him when he entered a polycule with them (who knows, maybe she helped her dum-dum brother realize his true feelings for his clone boy). And Kon was hyping up Cass until she finally got together with Steph.

I dunno I just love the idea of Kon and Cass being healthy exes and bonding over their journeys for self-discovery.

Hope this brought you some good vibes! 💜💜💜

i knew that kon was cass' first kiss, but i wasn't aware that they actually dated? i dont wanna sound mean, but that just feels so wrong... that's a lesbian and a pansexual boy

however i do LOVE the idea of kon and cass being good friends after that, and also all the ways these 5 idiots would make fun of each other.

steph and kon have the "i fucked your sister" club

[hyperfixatedimagines]

The Queen & her Lady: Ch. 6

Summary: Ageon has been crowned King, and Princess Rhaenys has escaped to inform Princess Rhaenyra. Queen Alicent works towards peace but with every passing moment it seems even more impossible. As dragons start to dance will the Dornish Princess learn to dance with them?

A/N: Hello everyone! Long time no see. This is the final chapter…for now. As I follow the show’s timeline/canon with a few liberties here and there I will be putting the fic on hiatus until the second season drops. Also, you may have noticed I deleted the first part of the chapter that I uploaded sometime ago. I didn’t feel like it was as fleshed out as I would have liked so I deleted it and have reincorporated it into one long finale. I do have other projects in the works so I do hope you will look forward to other works from me. Please let me know what you think! It is not goodbye to the Queen and her Lady but a see you later.

A/N pt.2: @fuckinglittlekitten​ @swords-and-roses​ @watercolorskyy​ @chonisbestmistake​ @freshmoneyalmondathlete​ @bass6c​ @the-camilucha​ @nataliaromanovaswife​ @oh-thats-cute @lesbicentism

After the morning’s events the small council, that now included Aegon, gathered to discuss the crown’s next steps. 

They agreed to send terms of surrender to Rhaenyra. Alicent insisted the terms be generous enough for Rhaenyra to accept. After much back and forth the rest of the council agreed. Alicent excused herself to have a much needed moment alone while the rest of the council debated on what the terms would actually be.

When Alicent returned to her quarters she ordered a serving girl to bring her tea. She sank into her chair by the fire and closed her eyes.

She had almost died. 

Alicent had faced her demise bravely. While at the mercy of Rhaenys and her dragon,  Alicent did not flinch.

She was spared, for what reason she knew not. Nevertheless,  she and her family were spared.

Alicent sat upright when the serving girl brought her tea. She sipped on it while she contemplated all that she still had to do. The exhaustion started to set in, but she could not let it overtake her. There was simply far too much work still left to do.

There was the business of having the nobles at court swear obeisance to Aegon…which included Prince Qoren Martell.

Alicent let out a deep sigh. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the armchair.

All hope of rest went out the window the second Aemond stormed into the room.

Alicent turned at the sound of his entrance. She furrowed her brows when she saw fury written across Aemond’s face. 

“Aemond, what is the matter?”

“How long has your wicked companionship with (y/n) gone on for,” Aemond spat, his nostrils flaring.

Alicent swallowed hard. The moment she had most feared had arrived. She had long wondered how she would respond, if she would lie or say the truth.

“Answer me mother,” Aemond demanded, his voice raised and fists balled.

“Lower your voice,” Alicent commanded. She set her teacup and saucer down on the table in front of her. Then she stood. She smoothed her dress down as her mind scrambled for a response.

Not a moment later she decided on a response.

“I know not what you speak of Aemond,” she told him.

She decided she would lie.

Aemond shook his head then stepped closer. “I know, Mother. I know...(y/n) confirmed it. So do me the courtesy of being honest. For once speak plainly and honestly,” he replied through a clenched jaw.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. Alicent had never seen her son so upset. She looked away from Aemond. 

“Whatever the Princess told you was a lie, Aemond.”

Aemond unballed his fists and ran a hand through his hair. He looked away from his mother. 

“What cause do you have for denying it any longer? (y/n) has told me all,” Aemond questioned.

Alicent did not respond. Instead she crossed the room and poured herself a cup of sweet wine from the flagon at her table.

“I do not wish to lie to you, Aemond,” Alicent said as she raised the goblet to her lips. 

The silver haired Prince softened. He let out an exasperated sigh. “All I seek is the truth.”

“What you ask of me I cannot give you.” Alicent kept her back towards Aemond. She took another drink of wine.

Aemond approached his mother. Alicent stiffened when she felt him near. 

“Please Mother…I need to know the truth,” Aemond pleaded, his voice becoming strained. 

Alicent emptied her goblet and poured herself another cup. She downed the second cup then turned to face her son. He was much closer than Alicent thought he would be.

“Whatever hurt you are feeling, I apologize. It was not my wish to hurt you, son,” Alicent professed, her voice low.

“You warned me of (y/n)’s true nature but now I need the entire truth.” Aemond said and looked away from Alicent when he realized tears had pooled in the corners of his eyes. He blinked away the tears that dared form. 

Alicent frowned. 

Her son would not meet her gaze. 

She did not speak. What could she say? The truth? It would ruin her if word got out.

Aemond sank into the chair from the table nearby. “It is just us. What cause have you to continue the lies,” he asked.

Alicent sighed. “All I can tell you is that the Princess has brought me great comfort in her time at the Keep,” she confessed.

Aemond looked up and met his mother’s gaze. She looked uncomfortable and tears welled in her eyes. Aemond felt his anger lull.

“Do you love her? Truly love her,” Aemond asked, his voice strained.

Alicent furrowed her brows. “Do I love her?”

Aemond nodded slowly. “Yes. This treachery is unbearable but...if you love her, as deeply as I do, then perhaps I can find a way to bear the immense pain in my chest,” he replied.

The now dowager Queen remained silent for a moment. Then she spoke softly.

“I love you, Helaena, and Aegon very much. I cared for your father...but I did not love him,” Alicent began.

“That much I know mother. I myself bore him little affection,” Aemond replied, slightly irritated. He stood from his seat. “Do you love (y/n), that is the question.”

Alicent held her son’s gaze. His eyes begged her for the truth. His anger had dissipated, now he only wanted the truth. He did not want to be lied to anymore. 

So Alicent took a deep breath and looked away from him. She cast her gaze to the stone floor.

“I do. I love her more than I thought myself capable of loving,” Alicent admitted.

Aemond’s heart ached even more. He finally had the truth. He sank back down into the seat. 

“You cannot imagine the pain I am in, mother,” Aemond breathed. “I love you, and I love (y/n). I wish for nothing but her happiness and yours but…I never imagined this.”

Alicent approached her son and knelt down in front of him.“It was not my intention to cause you such suffering, and I know it was not the Princess’ either. Whatever hurt you are feeling I apologize for. It was not our wish to hurt you, son.” She gripped Aemond’s hands. “She cares for you deeply, Aemond.”

Aemond tore his hands away from his mother’s. “But she does not love me,” Aemond cursed. Then he met his Mother’s gaze. A tear fell down his face. “She can never love me,” he whispered.

Silence descended upon them as Alicent could not think of any words she could utter that would ease Aemond’s pain. She stood and walked towards the hearth.

“How do you bear it,” Aemond asked, breaking the tense silence.

Alicent turned back to her son. She knitted her brows. “Bear what?”

Aemond wiped the tears from his eyes. “That she is my betrothed. That she will wed me and birth my sons. Does it not fill you with fury?” 

He knew the truth and it did not ignite him with fury any longer. Now, he only wished to understand. He wanted to know how his Mother could love (y/n) as he did and allow her to marry someone else.

Alicent shrugged. “It is her duty,” she professed. Then she sat down across from Aemond and continued. “As a Princess of Dorne she must wed and have children. I could not begrudge her for doing her duty just as she could not begrudge me for doing mine.”

Aemond quieted. He nodded and looked away, the look on his face a pensive one.

Alicent stared at her son. She was thankful he was no longer upset but worried he had still not forgiven her. In truth, her companionship with the Princess was a deep betrayal and Alicent knew that. She only hoped that her son could empathize with their situation and forgive them.

“(y/n) told me of her proclivities long ago, and I accepted it without judgment of her as I understood she had no more control over her feelings than I,” Aemond said then cleared his throat as he met his mother’s gaze. “Do you share her proclivities or is it a deep companionship borne from your loneliness?”

Alicent looked away from her son. She swallowed hard. “What if I did share her proclivities?”

Aemond stood. Alicent mirrored him and stood from her seat. Aemond reached out and held Alicent’s hands. 

 “Then how could I begrudge you? How can I begrudge that you found another who shared your feelings and fell in love with her?”

Finally, the tears in Alicent’s eyes fell. “You must believe that I never meant to hurt you, Aemond, neither of us did.”

Aemond placed a kiss on his Mother’s forehead. “I know mother, but it does not lessen the hurt.”

Alicent wiped the tears from her face. She took a deep breath. Aemond was truly her sweet boy, he had always been. And she would do anything for him. 

She cupped his face.

“Would you still suffer if my companionship ended?”

She did not wish to end things but if it was the only way to end Aemond’s agony she would do so. Before she was (y/n)’s love she was Aemond’s mother. Her loyalties had to lie with her family.

Aemond did not immediately reply. He furrowed his brow and looked down at the ground. Then he sighed. “That would not be my wish.”

Relief flooded Alicent.

Aemond met his mother’s gaze. “(y/n) would be inconsolable, and I know that would cause you a great deal of pain. I could never burden you both with such pain just to spare me of mine.”

A small smile spread across Alicent’s face. She gently ran her thumb across Aemond’s cheek. 

“You are too good, Aemond. You are my pride,” she whispered.

Aemond smiled sheepishly. Then he took his Mother’s hands in his own.

“I cannot say it will be easy for me to endure but I will try,” he promised.

Alicent gave his hands a gentle squeeze.“Thank you Aemond.”

Then Aemond let go of Alicent’s hands and crossed the room to pour himself a cup of wine.

“Would you like a cup?” He asked Alicent. 

“Yes please,” Alicent replied. 

Aemond poured wine into two cups then returned to his mother’s side. He handed one of the goblets to her. 

Alicent took it then took a sip. 

Aemond took a long drink. Then he stared down at the wine in his goblet as he swirled it around. 

“I suppose it would be difficult for anyone not to fall in love with (y/n). She is exceptional,” Aemond mused with a  fond smile on his face.

Alicent mirrored his smile. She nodded softly. “She is indeed.”

The two nursed their cups of wine as they continued to speak of the Princess’ attributes. 

-

The Princess made her way to her family’s quarters. Her eyes still stung from all the tears she had shed. She was tired and wished to sleep but she had to inform her father and sister of the morning’s events. She knew they would be more upset if they had to hear the news from anyone else.

When she arrived at their door the Hightower men at arms stepped aside and let her enter.

Prince Qoren and Princess Coryanne sat at their table eating their midday meal. They both looked towards the door as (y/n) entered.

“(y/n), have you returned with news,” Prince Qoren asked.

The Princess noted the look of distrust on her sister’s features. She nodded. 

“I do indeed father.”

So Prince Qoren waved her over. “Come sit and sup with us while you tell us.”

 (y/n) crossed the room to sit beside her father and opposite her sister.

The Dornish Prince ate a forkful of roasted lamb as he urged the Princess to speak.

(y/n) cleared her throat and began to tell them. “Aegon was crowned the King in front of all the smallfolk in King’s Landing,” she began.

Coryanne furrowed her brows. “Did you attend?”

“I did,” (y/n) replied, her gaze unwavering.

Prince Qoren frowned. “I believe I ordered you not to.” 

(y/n) turned to her father. “I could not turn down Prince Aemond’s personal invitation.”

Coryanne scoffed. “Of course, how could you turn down the very family that keeps us prisoner. It would be most impolite.” Coryanne rolled her eyes at (y/n).

“You are not prisoners,” (y/n) snapped. 

Prince Qoren held his hand up to silence his daughters. “Enough.” 

Both girls quieted. Then Prince Qoren asked (y/n) to continue.

(y/n) did so. 

“At the ceremony Princess Rhaenys broke through the floor of the dragon pit on her dragon,” the Princess recounted, a shudder going through her at the memory of the beast so close to Alicent.

Coryanne dropped her fork and met her sister’s gaze. Her face filled with worry.

“Were you harmed,” Coryanne asked, her voice full of alarm.

Prince Qoren stood and inspected his daughter where she sat. 

(y/n) put a hand on her father’s arm. “I am fine,” she told him.

Prince Qoren smiled at her then sat back down. 

(y/n) turned to Coryanne.

“Prince Aemond stepped in front of me and shielded me.”

Coryanne softened. She gave (y/n) a small nod then returned her attention to the plate of food in front of her. 

Prince Qoren raised his hand to his beard. He began stroking it.

“So what did Princess Rhaenys do? Did she kill Aegon?”

(y/n) shook her head. 

“No, she harmed no one but the smallfolk her dragon trampled as it made its escape.”

Coryanne took a drink from her goblet then turned to her sister. 

“Was the Princess confined to her rooms as we are?”

(y/n) nodded. 

Prince Qoren sighed. 

Coryanne turned to her father. “It is as I said father, the house of the dragon is divided. They are not as strong as you believed them to be.”

(y/n) frowned and reached out for her father’s hand.

“Father, that is not true. They are strong. With King Aegon on the throne Princess Rhaenyra will bend the knee and all will be well,” (y/n) argued. 

Coryanne rolled her eyes. She turned to her younger sister.  “Do not be so foolish (y/n). The Princess will never bend the knee. As well she should not as she is the rightful heir.” 

“The King informed the Queen of his desire for Aegon to succeed him. As the King’s first son that is his right,” (y/n) replied, knowing that in her heart she did not believe in Aegon’s right to rule.

Prince Qoren continued to stroke his beard. His face was lost in thought. 

Coryanne scoffed. “Father please tell me you do not believe (y/n)’s ramblings.”

Finally Prince Qoren spoke. He sat forward and let out a great sigh. 

“In light of this news you have brought us (y/n), I have made a decision.”

The Princesses leaned closer to their father, both with baited breath. 

“We shall return to Sunspear. Your betrothal to Prince Aemond is no more. War is coming and I will not leave you here to become a pawn to be used to demand Dornish support,” Qoren proclaimed.

The younger Princess’ heart sank. She reached out for her father’s hand. She took it and gave his hand a pleading squeeze. 

“Father, that is not what I wish. I want to wed Prince Aemond. Please do not force me to part with my beloved,” (y/n) begged. 

Coryanne looked at her sister and sneered. “You do not wish to be parted from the Queen.  Speak the truth now sister, as father will not be swayed.” 

Qoren turned to his youngest daughter with furrowed brows. “(y/n), tell me your sister is lying as I know your mother and I did not raise you to be so foolish.”

(y/n) let go of her father’s hand and lowered her gaze to her lap. She did not reply.

The Prince shook his head softly. “My darling, stupid, girl…I will alert the Hightower men that I wish to speak to the new King. If all goes well we will leave for Sunspear on the morrow.” 

(y/n)’s gaze shot up. “Will you state your support?”

“I will state that if he wishes for the possibility of Dornish might at his side he will allow us to leave and return to Dorne safely,” Qoren said before he took a long sip of wine from his goblet.

Coryanne also drank from her cup but it did not hide the pleased smile that spread across her face. 

(y/n) could take it no longer. She stood and bowed her head. “If that is your wish father.”

Prince Qoren lowered his goblet. “It is (y/n).” 

“I will begin packing my things,” (y/n) replied. She swallowed hard and turned away from her family.

As she made her way to the door her father called out to her.

“(y/n),” the Prince said, his voice slightly raised.

(y/n) turned back to face the Prince. “Yes father?”

“Do not share the news of our departure with anyone outside our house,” Qoren ordered.

The Princess nodded silently. Then she turned back towards the door and walked out. She clenched her fists as she made her way back to her chambers. She would not let any tears fall where spies might see them. 

Her vision started to blur as she neared her rooms. The second the door closed behind her (y/n) let all the tears fall. 

-

After tea with his mother Aemond went out for a ride on vhagar to settle his nerves and think about how he would apologize to (y/n).

He could not lie and tell the Princess he forgave her, as he had not. While Aemond empathized with the Princess’ situation he could not bring himself to forgive her for the offense. 

Out of all the women in the Keep it had been his mother…Aemond tried to forgive but it did not come to him easily.

When the Prince finally had an apology formed he made his way to the Princess’ chambers.

He knocked on the door and no one answered. So Aemond knocked once more. Still no answer. 

Was the Princess not in her chambers?

Aemond decided to see for himself. So he let himself in. 

The Princess sat at the foot of her bed, her eyes red and cheeks stained. 

“(y/n),” he softly called out. 

(y/n) looked up. “Aemond.”

Aemond clasped his hands behind his back. “Have I caught you at a bad moment? I can come back.”

(y/n) wiped the tears from her face and stood from her bed. “Nonsense. What can I do for you?”

“I uhm- I came to apologize,” Aemond confessed. 

The Princess’ brows raised. “Oh.”

Aemond stepped closer to the Princess. “I was rash, and thoughtless. All I could think of was the pain in my chest and the blood in my ears. I’m sorry (y/n) for losing my temper with you.”

“It’s alright Aemond. I should not have kept something of such importance from you but you must understand I could not divulge such a companionship to just anyone.”

Aemond nodded. “I understand…but I will admit (y/n) I am still very hurt.”

(y/n) closed the gap between them. She placed her hands on Aemond’s arms. “I wish I could take that hurt away Aemond. I never wanted to hurt you. You are so good and truly the only man I have ever come close to truly loving.”

“But you can never love me as a wife should. I know (y/n),” Aemond said, his breath but a whisper.

(y/n)’s chest ached. Nothing she could say could mend Aemond’s broken heart. So she wrapped her arms around Aemond’s neck and buried her face in Aemond’s shoulder. 

Aemond returned the embrace and wrapped his arms around (y/n)’s waist. He breathed in the Princess’ scent. What once brought him such pleasure now smelled bittersweet. 

“I know that you love me as much as you can (y/n). I promised to be content with such affection and I am a man of my word,” he spoke as he pressed his cheek to the side of the Princess’ head. “It will take time for me to forgive you fully but I am thankful that someone has brought much needed happiness and comfort to my mother.”

(y/n) hugged the Prince tighter. “Thank you Aemond. Thank you.” Then she pulled away from the Prince to meet his gaze. “I could not ask for a better betrothed.”

The words burned (y/n)’s throat as she spoke them. She knew he was no longer her betrothed…but until her father announced their departure she would allow herself the comfort the farcical engagement brought her.

Aemond placed a gentle kiss to (y/n)’s forehead. Then he held her tight once more. 

-

After much deliberation the council finally decided on the terms of surrender. Otto Hightower stood and read the finalized terms of surrender meant for Princess Rhaenyra.

Alicent had managed to secure generous terms for the Princess thanks to her tenacious nature…and Aegon’s desire to end the small council session quickly.

King Aegon had grown bored very quickly and wished for it all to end. So he looked to his mother for guidance in hopes to end such duties rapidly.

Otto finished reading the terms. He looked towards the King for final approval. 

Aegon gave it then stood from his chair at the head of the table. “Now that our business has concluded I must take my leave.”

Otto raised a hand to stop Aegon. “Not so fast, your grace. We must decide who will deliver the terms to the Princess.”

“I think it’s best if one of the members of the small council go,” Maester Orwyle suggested. 

Aegon nodded. “Yes very well let us get on with it then.”

“I volunteer myself,” Alicent said.

Tyland nodded. “I think that is wise.”

Otto shook his head. “It is dangerous. I would not see the Queen mother harmed.”

Aegon slumped in his seat. “So then you may go, grand sire.”

All eyes turned to Otto. He gave Aegon a strained smile. 

“If you wish it, your grace.”

“Good, then all is well. Now I will take my leave,” Aegon proclaimed.

“There is the business with the Dornish prince, my King,” Tyland said then looked towards the Queen mother. 

Alicent swallowed then turned to Tyland. “Thank you my lord. That is pressing business indeed.”

Aegon nodded. “Yes indeed.” Then he turned to his mother. He cleared his throat and Alicent met his gaze. Aegon raised a brow. 

The Queen mother let out a breath then turned to the rest of the small council. “Their men at arms must be released from our cells and our men removed from their chambers.”

“They have not yet stated their support for the new King,” Otto chimed in.

Alicent turned to her father. “They have not declared their support for Rhaenyra either.”

Otto opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the small council doors opening. A Hightower man at arms walked inside and informed them of the Dornish Prince’s wish to speak with King Aegon. 

Aegon sat up in his seat and leaned over towards his mother. Alicent placed a hand on his shoulder.

Otto informed the Hightower man that King Aegon would speak to the Prince at once. 

The Hightower guard left the room. 

Otto dismissed the small council and asked Aegon if he would like him to stay. Aegon looked to Alicent. 

Alicent nodded. So Aegon told Otto to stay with him and his mother to speak with the Prince.

The Queen mother excused herself as she had business to attend to. Then, upon seeing the panicked look on Aegon’s face, she reassured him that his grandsire would aid him should he need it. 

Then she took her leave.

-

Alicent entered the Keep’s library. She was glad to see (y/n) reading underneath the window.

“Don’t you look beautiful,” the Queen mother said reverently, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled.

(y/n) turned towards the door and, upon seeing it was her love who had entered, leapt to her feet and went to Alicent’s side.

Alicent wrapped her arms around (y/n). (y/n) returned the embrace. 

The Princess pressed a quick kiss to Alicent’s neck. “Ali, I am so glad to see you.” 

Alicent let out a content sigh. She ran a hand through the Princess’ hair.

“As am I, my sweet girl.”

The lovers parted and Alicent guided (y/n) over to the settee. Alicent took (y/n)’s hand in hers. “I have much to speak with you about.”

(y/n) nodded. “As do I.”

Alicent met the Princess’ gaze. “Allow me to go first, my sun.”

“Of course,” (y/n) replied.

Alicent took in a deep breath. “Aemond came to my chambers shortly after we all returned from the coronation.”

(y/n) looked down at their clasped hands. She knew what the Queen mother was going to say. 

“He asked about our…companionship,” Alicent continued.

“You have me to blame for that.” 

(y/n) looked up and met Alicent’s gaze. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“You?”

(y/n) nodded.  “He walked me to my chambers,as you know, but once inside he crudely asked if I had bedded you…obviously I denied it but he knew Ali. He knew that I loved you, in a way I would never be able to love him. I couldn’t deny it.” (y/n) buried her face in Alicent’s shoulder. “I hated lying to Aemond. He’s my dearest friend.”

Alicent placed a gentle kiss to the top of (y/n)’s head. “I know (y/n). I did too.”

“What are we to do now?” (y/n) mumbled. 

“Aemond swore to me he would keep our secret. So I see no reason we cannot continue on as we have done.”

The Princess lifted her head. “Really? I was sure you would panic,” she confessed. 

Alicent smiled shyly. “I understand why you would think that. I know I’ve been cowardly when it comes to our love, but I won’t be any longer.”

Alicent brought (y/n)’s hand to her lips and kissed the Princess’ knuckles. “I promise you.”

Blush spread across (y/n)’s cheeks. “I love you Ali.”

Alicent squeezed the Princess’ hand. “I love you too (y/n).”

Then they moved onto different, more pressing, topics of conversation. Alicent explained the terms of surrender the small council had agreed on to the Princess. The Princess listened, though she was not confident Rhaenyra would accept them. 

“And who will deliver them?” (y/n) asked. 

Alicent sighed. “Aegon decided my father should take them.”

The Princess frowned. “Your father?”

“Yes, though I must confess that I do not trust my father will try hard to convince Rhaenyra to accept the terms.” Alicent said as she anxiously rubbed at one of the rings on her fingers.

(y/n) quieted. She tried to think of a way to help. Then she perked up and turned back to Alicent.

“Why don’t you try to send Rhaenyra a message?”

Alicent shook her head. “No ravens are allowed to enter or leave the Keep at the moment.”

“I mean why don’t you send a message with your father,” (y/n) explained.

Alicent furrowed her brows. “He would surely read it and pervert its message. He seeks Rhaenyra’s death.”

“Yes but if the message was hidden and only something the Princess would understand. That way even if your father read it he would not understand its true meaning,” (y/n) added. 

Alicent paused and considered (y/n)’s idea. Then she stood up and turned to (y/n).

“I believe I have just the thing. Come with me,” Alicent declared before walking towards the doors. 

The Princess followed after the Queen mother all the way to the Queen mother’s bedchambers. 

Alicent knelt down and reached for something underneath her bedside. When she stood back up she had a piece of paper in her hands. 

(y/n) furrowed her brows.

Alicent walked over to where (y/n) stood and unfolded the piece of paper.

“Do you remember that book about your ancestor you were reading in the Godswood all those moons ago?”

(y/n)  nodded.

Alicent showed the Princess the torn book page in her hands.

“Well this is the torn page. Rhaenyra tore it out when we were girls. She always teased me for being studious and tore it out so that I would never forget about it.”

(y/n) took the torn page. She turned it over in her hand.

“If you send it with your father, what exactly will the page tell her?”

“That I have not forgotten the friendship we once shared, and the love we once bore one another,” Alicent replied, a forlorn and far away gaze in her eyes.

(y/n) looked up from the page and at her lover. She handed the page back to Alicent.

“I see...”

Alicent took the page, and she let her hand linger against (y/n)’s. Their gazes met.

“Does that bother you?”

(y/n) considered the question for a brief moment before replying. 

“It does not. I am glad you have a way to communicate your true desire for peace,” (y/n) said with a small smile. 

Alicent returned the smile. She reached up and cupped (y/n)’s cheek. 

“My sweet girl.”

Then Alicent’s hand dropped, and the smile soon followed. Alicent looked away from (y/n).

“I trust you are speaking the truth, but I will admit that I can tell something is bothering you. I won’t pry…I trust you will tell me when it is time for me to know,” Alicent confessed.

(y/n) swallowed hard and did her best to keep the smile on her face. “I assure you I am not bothered.”

Alicent didn’t reply. She merely gave (y/n) a slight nod before returning her attention to the torn page in her hands.

The Princess felt her guilt build inside her.

The more Alicent went on about her plans to communicate peace the more the guilt built inside (y/n). 

Until finally she could take it no more. 

She cleared her throat. 

Alicent looked over at her, brows raised.

“I must go…my sister requested I speak to her after my time in the library,” (y/n) lied, each word harder and harder to say as she felt her throat close up from guilt.

Alicent nodded slowly. “Of course (y/n). You may go.”

(y/n) placed a quick kiss to Alicent’s cheek before saying goodbye. 

Alicent watched (y/n) leave. In the pit of her stomach she knew there was something the Princess was keeping from her, but she would have to trust (y/n). It would be no small task for the Queen mother to do but her love for (y/n) was greater than her paranoia. 

-

It became harder and harder for (y/n) to hold back the deluge of tears that welled in her eyes. 

She hated lying to Alicent. She hated lying to Aemond. 

But she was a Martell. 

She had to do as she was told.

So distracted in her thoughts (y/n) did not even notice Aemond calling out her name then hurrying to catch up with her in the halls.

Aemond caught up to the Princess. He put a hand on her arm to stop her. “Princess, what is the matter? You are crying,” Aemond asked once (y/n) turned to face him. 

(y/n) wiped her tears with the edge of her sleeve. “It is nothing. I must go”

The Princess turned to leave but Aemond slid his hand in hers and pulled (y/n) towards a nearby room. Thankfully candles were already lit.

Aemond stood in front of the Princess. “I do not believe you (y/n). We have lied to each other enough, please tell me the truth.”

“I cannot. My father forbade it,” the Princess revealed, her eyes red from crying and cheeks tear stained. 

Aemond furrowed his brow. “I am your betrothed. You can tell me anything.”

(y/n) pulled away from Aemond. She crossed to the other side of the room, near the window. She turned her back to the Prince. “That is the very cause of my strife. You are no longer my betrothed.”

“I don’t understand,” Aemond replied hesitantly. He stepped closer to the Princess.

The Princess whipped around to face the Prince.Her gaze met his. Aemond’s eyes were filled with worry, his lips slightly pursed. She sighed.

 “My father has gone to speak with your brother, the King. He wishes for all three of us to return to Sunspear. He doesn’t think it’s safe for me here. He said you were no longer my betrothed,” (y/n) confessed.

Aemond shook his head. “That cannot be.” He huffed. “That is madness. Of course it is safe for you here.”

The Princess closed the gap between them.

“I told him of Princess Rhaenys’ dragon escaping during the coronation. He believes war is coming and does not wish me to remain far from home,” she explained.

Aemond reached out and held (y/n)’s hands in his. He gave her hands a squeeze.

“My mother is doing all she can to avoid war, and for once my brother is heeding her advice. We shall not go to war.”

(y/n) frowned. “My father does not believe so. He seeks to leave on the morrow.”

Aemond sighed. 

He looked out the window, his brow furrowed, before he returned his gaze to (y/n). 

“Then I will have to find a way to convince him otherwise. I must depart for Storm’s End to secure House Baratheon’s support but if you can delay your departure then I promise I will have a way to fix things when I return.”

“Do you truly believe you will find a way?” (y/n) did not want to fill herself with false hope.

Aemond brought their joined hands up to his lips.“Do you trust me?”

“I do,” (y/n) said with a small smile. 

Aemond placed a kiss on the top of (y/n)’s hands.

“Then I will,” he promised.

(y/n) smiled wider. She nodded slowly. “Okay…I will see how I can delay my father’s plans.”

“Wonderful.” Aemond let go of (y/n)’s hands. He turned to leave. “I will go at once.”

(y/n) reached out and stopped him. Aemond turned back to (y/n).

The Princess spoke in a hushed voice. “But you must keep this news between us. No one else can know until my father announces it.”

Aemond nodded. “Of course. I shall see you when I return.”

The Princess let go of Aemond. Aemond left the room and went directly to his mother’s chambers. 

He did not want to deceive the Princess, but now that he knew the truth of the Princess’ companionship with his mother, he knew he had to inform her.

Ser Criston let Aemond enter the dowager Queen’s chambers.

Alicent looked up from the correspondence in front of her. She frowned. 

“Aemond, I thought you were on your way to Storm’s End?”

Aemond cleared his throat. “I was..I still am. But I have some information you are going to want to know.”

Alicent raised her brows. “Oh?”

“It’s about (y/n).” Aemond added. 

Alicent stood from her seat and ushered Aemond towards the settee.

-

The Princess returned to her father’s chambers, hoping to stall their inevitable leave. She had to trust that Aemond would find a way.

She arrived outside her father’s quarters. Outside the door stood two Martell men at arms. They smiled and bowed as she walked past them and into the room. 

Prince Qoren sat in an armchair that faced the roaring hearth. He looked up when the Princess entered. 

“(y/n), there you are,” he said and stood from his seat. 

He rushed to his daughter’s side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

“You must pack at once. We are to leave on the morrow, at the first light of day. I do not wish for us to linger here any longer than necessary.”

(y/n)’s heart sank but she did her best to mask her dismay. 

“So the King has granted us leave?”

Qoren nodded as he ushered his daughter to a seat. He sat down next to her on the settee. 

“I have acknowledged King Aegon as the true king,” Prince Qoren said and bowed his head. 

“You do not believe he is fit to rule,” the Princess replied. 

“Whether he is fit to rule matters not baby sister,” came a voice from the balcony. 

Princess Coryanne entered the room and sat down across from her father and sister. 

“Princess Rhaenyra is the late King’s chosen heir,” Coryanne added. 

“What matters is I have been able to get us home safely,” Prince Qoren said and gave his elder daughter a sharp look. 

Coryanne shrugged and sat back in her seat. 

(y/n) furrowed her brows. “So you have thrown your support behind King Aegon?”

“I have acknowledged him as King. If he would like Dornish support should this all lead to war, he will have to allow us to decide once we are back in Sunspear,” Prince Qoren explained. 

The youngest Princess nodded. She thought back to Aemond’s promise to fix things. She needed to buy him time. 

(y/n) bit her lip as she thought. 

Her sister eyed her suspiciously. 

“I know that look,” Coryanne sniped.

Prince Qoren turned to (y/n). “Is something on your mind?”

“Yes I….,” (y/n) racked her mind for a way to stall their departure. “I wish to break fast with the Queen tomorrow. One final goodbye. Will you please delay our leave for just a few hours so that I may properly say goodbye to her?”

(y/n) gave her father a pleading look, and reached out to hold his hands. 

“Please father,” (y/n) asked once more. 

Prince Qoren frowned. “(y/n) I don’t think -”

“Father, I think you should allow her one last goodbye in the privacy of her chambers. After all, gods know if she’s bedded her paramour yet,” Coryanne sniped with a laugh. 

Qoren turned to Coryanne. 

“Enough of that type of talk. We are not in the comforts and safety of our home,” the Prince chided. 

Coryanne lowered her gaze. “My apologies father.”

Qoren sighed then turned back to (y/n).

“I will allow you to break fast with the Queen one last time, but we will leave as soon as you have finished. I do not want to dally about for too long tomorrow.”

(y/n) smiled brightly and wrapped her arms around her father. She buried her face in his shoulder. “Thank you father! Thank you.”

Qoren smiled as he returned his daughter’s embrace. Then he pulled her away from him and looked her in the eye. 

“But be careful (y//n). I know that you love with all your heart but you must not lose your head. Do you understand?”

(y/n) nodded. “I understand father.”

Qoren nodded. “Good. Now that all business is settled let us all prepare for our departure.”

The Prince sent both his daughters to pack their things and instruct the servant girls on how to pack the rest. 

The Princess made quick work of her duties as she received an invitation to dine that night with the dowager Queen. 

-

The meal was quiet. Too quiet. 

(y/n) knew she had to tell Alicent the truth. A part of (y/n) was sure Alicent already knew as Alicent was also uncharacteristically silent.

Alicent could not look her lover in the eyes. 

It cut her deeply that (y/n) did not tell her that the Prince planned to leave and take (y/n) with him. She had to hear about it from Aemond and then from Aegon.

Her dearest sun was leaving the Red Keep, and Alicent knew that with (y/n)  would go all warmth and life within the castle walls. 

The tension in the air remained until the serving boys brought out the honey cakes and lemon biscuits for dessert.

(y/n) picked at the slice of honey cake on her plate. 

“Is it not to your liking,” Alicent asked, a flash of worry spread across her. She did not wish for (y/n)’s last meal in the Keep to be unpleasant.

The Princess shook her head. “No, no it’s not that. The cake is lovely. The whole meal was lovely, really.”

(y/n) met Alicent’s gaze for the first time that night. 

Alicent nodded slowly. “It was, wasn't it…”

Silence descended upon the pair once more. 

Alicent’s eyes pleaded for (y/n) to speak the truth. To say it once and for all. Her nerves had frayed to their very tips.

(y/n) looked away. She continued to pick at her plate. 

“I’m sorry I -,” Alicent said with a loud sigh. She threw her napkin down on the table and stood. “I cannot go a moment longer without talking about it,” she added as she walked towards the Princess.

The Princess stood from her seat.  “Wha- What is it Ali,” (y/n) stuttered.

Knots twisted over bigger knots in (y/n)’s stomach. 

Alicent frowned, the worry lines on her forehead becoming apparent. “So you insist on keeping it from me?”

(y/n) closed the gap between herself and the dowager Queen.  “I did not know how to tell you.”

Alicent closed her eyes and shook her head softly. “You cannot imagine the tears I shed when Aemond told me.”

“I’m so sorry Ali,” (y/n) said and reached out to hold Alicent’s hands, tears pooling in the young woman’s eyes.

“I do not wish for an apology,” Alicent replied. She brought (y/n)’s hands up to her mouth and placed a gentle kiss between the Princess’ knuckles. “(y/n) I wish for you to stay with me.”

(y/n) frowned. “I cannot…My father has decided I must return to Sunspear.”

Alicent dropped their intertwined hands. She turned towards the dining table where a flagon of wine sat in between the many sweet treats. She poured herself a goblet full of wine and took a long drink.

“Then I will have Aegon deny his leave. I will-,” Alicent began but was cut off by the Princess. 

“You will do no such thing.” (y/n) said and reached out for the Queen’s hand once more. “Hard days are coming, Ali. Please do not make them harder by challenging my father.”

Alicent turned to face the Princess. She looked down at their hands, fingers laced together. A tear ran down the Queen’s cheek. “…I cannot lose you,” she whispered.

(y/n) shed a few tears of her own. She wrapped her arms around the Queen and buried her face in the Queen’s shoulder. “I was a coward Ali. I should have told you as soon as I knew.”

“You cannot leave me,” Alicent murmured as she placed a kiss to the side of (y/n)’s head. “I do not think I can survive without you.”

Then Alicent pulled away from the Princess. The dowager Queen cupped the young woman’s face with both hands. She ran her thumb across (y/n)’s cheek.

“Now that I have been bathed in your rays of light and love…,” Alicent stopped and looked down at (y/n)’s lips. She swallowed hard before continuing. “I cannot go back to the cold and dark,” she said with a quiver in her voice.

Alicent’s gaze flicked up to meet (y/n)’s. 

(y/n) leaned into Alicent’s touch. 

“You won’t have to. I promise I will find a way back to you,” (y/n) whispered.

Alicent’s hands fell back to her sides. “How? We will be leagues apart with a bloody war looming.” Alicent sighed aloud and turned away from the Princess.

(y/n) stepped closer, her chest pressed against Alicent’s back.

“You must believe that I will return home to you,” (y/n) pleaded. 

Alicent felt the heat of (y/n)’s breath on the back of her neck. She shut her eyes and tried to quell the familiar thrum of excitement in her chest that happened whenever the Princess was that close.

“Your father will never allow you to return,” Alicent protested.

(y/n) placed her hands on Alicent’s hips. She pressed a gentle kiss to Alicent’s neck. Then she neared Alicent’s ear.

“I love you, and I will do whatever is necessary to be by your side….,” she whispered. 

Alicent swallowed hard then turned around in (y/n)’s grasp. 

The Princess continued. 

“I will return even if I must return to you bloody and barefoot, without a family or a title,” (y/n) proclaimed.

Fresh tears pooled in Alicent’s eyes. Her whole being felt warm, warm and bright. She felt loved, truly loved, and it was all thanks to (y/n). 

Alicent pressed her forehead against the Princess’.

“Then I will be sure to welcome you home with a warm bath and give you my family name.”

The Princess smiled a shy smile.

Alicent’s smile mirrored the Princess’. “You have me, always,” she confessed.

(y/n) closed the gap between them and pressed her lips against the Queen’s. 

Alicent returned the kiss and opened her lips to let the Princess deepen the kiss. 

(y/n) pulled Alicent’s hips closer to her. Alicent wrapped her arms around (y/n)’s neck.

She deserved this, Alicent thought to herself. She deserved to show her sun the whole of her love for her.

So Alicent guided the pair towards the table. She backed the Princess up against the edge. 

(y/n)’s hands dropped from the Queen’s hips and she broke their kiss. “Ali we should stop you-.”

Her words were cut off by Alicent’s lips. Alicent kissed the Princess and this time it was she who pulled the Princess’ hips towards her own. 

If the Princess was to leave her, then Alicent would give all of herself to (y/n). She would not let (y/n) leave without consummating their true love. After all, there was no assurance Alicent would ever see her sun again.

(y/n) broke their kiss once more. She looked into Alicent’s eyes for some type of answer. She had never seen Alicent so forthright.

“My husband is dead,” Alicent whispered. “I am free and I wish to give you all of myself before we are forced to part ways.”

(y/n) cupped Alicent’s cheek. “Are you sure?”

The dowager Queen leaned into the Princess’ touch. “Take me,” she whispered into the Princess’ palm then placed a hungry kiss to her palm.

Desire flared inside the Dornish Princess. She swallowed hard then nodded. 

 The Queen was led to her bed by the younger woman. (y/n) undressed Alicent slowly, giving the Queen ample time if she should change her mind.

But Alicent’s mind was singular in thought. Her body, for the first time, was lit aflame with desire for the Princess. 

With every touch that ghosted Alicent’s skin as (y/n) undressed her grew the thrumming in Alicent’s chest, and the pulsing in between her legs. 

Soon the Queen’s skin was bare. She met (y/n)’s gaze and felt a sense of pride as the Princess’ eyes gazed upon her naked body.

“Your grace…,” (y/n) said with a shaky breath.

Alicent hooked a finger under the Princess’ chin and brought the Princess’ gaze up to meet her own. 

“Ali….only Ali.”

The Princess nodded. “Ali,” she repeated, her voice thick with desire.

Alicent stepped closer. “Your turn.”

The Princess turned her back to Alicent and swallowed hard as she heard the strings of her dress start to come undone.

(y/n) closed her eyes and took deep breaths, each layer Alicent removed created a louder ringing in her ears. 

It was not until Alicent placed a kiss upon her naked shoulder that (y/n)’s eyes flickered open. 

The Princess turned around, and swallowed hard. It was up to her to teach the Queen in the art of loving another woman.

So she reached out and guided Alicent to lay on the bed. 

Alicent stared up at (y/n) with such openness that (y/n) had only dreamt of. 

Alicent caressed (y/n)’s cheek. “I am ready (y/n).”

(y/n) smiled and gently lowered her lips to Alicent’s chest, placing a gentle kiss between her breasts. 

-

The hour of the wolf neared and the lovers reached new heights of pleasure as hands touched, teeth nipped, hips bucked, and lips left swollen with each endless kiss.

“(y/n),” Alicent moaned through heavy pants as her body recovered from her latest climax.

The two were a mess of limbs as they ravaged one another. Neither wanted it to end.

But (y/n) had another engagement she could not miss. 

So she climbed up to meet Alicent’s lips and gave her a gentle peck. “Thank you, my Ali,” (y/n) whispered as she fixed an auburn curl behind Alicent’s ear.

Alicent smiled up at (y/n). “Whatever for, my sun?”

(y/n) gazed into Alicent’s eyes and said, “I have never felt so sure about anything as I do about my love for you.”

The Queen smiled lazily and cupped the Princess’ cheek. “I feel the same about you.”

(y/n) brought her lips against Alicent’s for one last, long, languid, kiss.

Then the Princess let out a long sigh and pressed her forehead against Alicent’s.

“I wish I could spend the whole night in your arms Ali, but I must pack certain belongings that I do not entrust to the servants.”

Alicent matched the Princess’ sigh. “I understand (y/n).”

The Princess pulled away and instantly Alicent felt the magic of their union dissipate.

Alicent watched as (y/n) dressed herself. Then stood to help the Princess with the strings of her dress.

“You will break fast with me on the morrow, won’t you?” (y/n) asked as Alicent tightened the strings of her dress.

Alicent finished and wrapped her arms around (y/n)’s waist. “Of course I will, my sun.”

(y/n) leaned backwards into the Queen’s touch and smiled. “Then I shall pray day comes quick so that I may see you again.”

The lovers pulled apart  and with one final kiss (y/n) left the Queen’s chambers.

-

Ser Criston waited for the Princess just down the hall from the dowager Queen’s chambers, just as she had asked of him. 

When the Princess rounded the corner and made contact the knight of the Kingsguard immediately noticed the Princess’ disheveled appearance.

“Ser Criston, I am glad to see you are indeed a man of your word,” the Princess said as she neared him.

The knight nodded. “Of course Princess, in all matters that concern the dowager Queen I am your ally.” 

“I am glad to hear so,” (y/n) replied, still trying to fix her appearance.

Together, they walked down the halls of the Keep until they reached Lord Strong’s chambers.

As they stood in front of the Lord’s door (y/n) hesitated. 

Cole watched as the Princess lifted her hand to the door then stopped. 

(y/n) thought back to what Alicent had confessed to her. What Alicent said Larys had made her do all those years. She thought of the humiliation and shame Alicent had dealt with all those years, and how much Larys had reveled in it.

That was enough to have the fire return to her. 

(y/n) burst through the door, with Ser Criston in tow. 

Larys startled awake. “Who goes there,” he called out.

The Princess lit a few candles while Ser Criston grabbed Larys and gagged him with a rag.

Once gagged, Ser Criston forced Larys to kneel in front of the Princess.

(y/n) stared down at the man. 

“You are the most pathetic man in all of Westeros.”

Larys cried out but it was muffled by the rag in his mouth. Ser Criston jostled him into silence. 

The Princess grabbed Larys by the chin and forced him to look at her. 

“You will never again approach the dowager Queen with any of your grotesque demands in exchange for information. Your taking advantage of her is done.”

Larys once again tried to speak. 

“Cole,” (y/n) said.

Ser Criston placed his foot on Larys’ good leg then put pressure on it. Larys groaned and tried to escape the Princess’ grasp.

But the Princess’ grasp was firm. She dug the nail of her thumb into his chin. Larys yelped in pain.

“You will not speak.”

Larys quieted down but stared up at the Princess with pure hate in his eyes. 

“While I take my leave to Sunspear Ser Criston will remain. He will be my eyes and ears. If he is to tell me that you have lingered in the Queen’s chambers or in her mere presence for longer than necessary I will gladly engage the services of any one of Dorne’s sellswords that are also known to work with poisons.”

Larys furrowed his brow. He looked away from the Princess.

The Princess dug her nail into his chin until his gaze returned to her. “Do you understand, Lord Strong.”

Tears now pooled in Larys’ eyes. He nodded slowly.

“Wonderful,” she said, then turned to Ser Criston. “Remove the rag.”

Ser Criston did as told and removed the rag from Larys’ mouth. 

Larys coughed and took several deep breaths to steady himself. 

Then he looked up at the Princess and smirked. “You may threaten me all you wish Princess but I know your secret. I know the truth about you and the Queen.”

In one fluid movement Ser Criston unsheathed a dagger and held it against Larys’ throat. 

Larys dared not swallow or speak as he felt the cool blade against him.

“I urge you to not make threats against her grace, my Lord,” Cole whispered. 

The Princess lowered herself to meet Larys’ gaze. “And before you make any more threats I want to inform you that I know what your little busy bees look like. Should they come anywhere near me or my family I will be sure to show you the true might of Dornish anger.”

Larys looked away. “I will- I will comply,” the Lord confessor uttered.

Ser Criston pressed the dagger ever closer, striking the skin just enough for a drop of blood to spill through. “And you will apologize to her grace. You will tell her all information will be given to her freely.”

Larys cried out, “Alright, alright! I will apologize to the Queen.”

“Very well,” Ser Criston replied. He started to help Lord Larys stand but the Princess put a hand up to stop him.

“Wait,” she said.

Ser Criston shoved Larys back down.

The Princess stared at Larys, her expression blank but her eyes filled with fury.

Larys stared at her, and swallowed hard. “What is it? What more do you want fr-.”

The Lord confessor’s words were cut short as the Princess’ fist collided with his face.

Ser Criston’s eyes widened as he saw the Princess punch Larys.

The Princess then gripped Lord Strong’s face once again.

“You are scum. If it were up to me I would order you flayed alive and have your flesh strung up on the walls of sunspear for all to see…but the Queen does not wish for such violence upon anyone. It is by her grace that you live…do not forget that.”

Larys nodded in reply.

(y/n) looked up to meet Ser Criston’s gaze. She nodded and he started to help Larys to his feet.

Ser Criston threw Larys onto his cot then followed the Princess out into the hall.

The knight slammed the door closed behind him and trailed after the Princess.

Once they reached a sizable distance from Larys Strong’s quarters the knight approached the Princess.

“Princess, were your threats of flaying the Lord confessor true?”

The Princess stopped and turned to face the knight.

“Of course they were. I won’t allow any more harm to come to the dowager Queen. I expect you to feel the same, Ser Criston.”

Ser Criston nodded. “I do, Princess. I will be sure to keep the Lord confessor true to his word.”

“Wonderful. Now I must return to my quarters,” she declared.

Ser Criston bowed his head. “Good night Princess.”

“Good night, Ser Criston,” (y/n) replied before she made her way to her own quarters.

-

The next morning the dowager Queen and the Princess of Dorne sat down and broke fast together. Just as the Queen had promised. 

Both were in good spirits even though that morning would be their last together. 

(y/n) picked at her food. “I don’t want the meal to end,” she confessed. 

Alicent smiled at (y/n). “One way or another your father will see to it that you all depart King’s Landing this very day.”

(y/n) met Alicent’s gaze. “I do not wish to part from you Ali.”

Alicent reached across the table and held (y/n)’s hand. “I do not wish to part either but some things are beyond our power.”

(y/n) ran her thumb across the top of Alicent’s hand. “I know…but I will return, somehow.”

Alicent gave (y/n)’s hand a squeeze. “You will.”

The two enjoyed the rest of their meal together. Just as they had finished the Princess’ sister, Princess Coryanne, rushed into the room. 

She stopped when she saw the dowager Queen and (y/n) in a warm embrace. 

“Pardon me your grace, I did not mean to intrude.”

Alicent and (y/n) pulled apart at the sound of Coryanne’s entry. 

“Oh dear sister I do not believe that,” (y/n) replied.

Alicent smiled at Coryanne. “There was nothing to intrude on Princess.”

Coryanne’s lips pursed. “Indeed,” she said with a scowl. Then she turned to her sister. “Father has asked me to escort you down to the carriage. Everyone is ready to depart.”

(y/n)’s smiled faded. “Aye,” she replied, looking away from both Alicent and her sister.

Coryanne smiled viciously. “Wonderful. Let us all go down together.”

(y/n) nodded. “Of course.”

So the three royals made their way down to the entrance of the Keep. 

Already there was Queen Helaena and her children. As well as Prince Qoren Martell.

Formal goodbyes were had between the various royals. 

Coryanne approached the dowager Queen to say goodbye but Alicent reached out and embraced the Princess.

Surprised, Coryanne attempted to speak but the Queen beat her to it.

“Under no circumstance should (y/n) leave Sunspear. She will try to escape to return to the Keep. You must not allow this,” Alicent whispered as she embraced Coryanne.

Coryanne furrowed her brow then quickly schooled her features. “I- I will your grace,” she whispered back. 

Alicent pulled away and loudly said, “Safe travels Princess Coryanne.”

Coryanne smiled, “Thank you, your grace.”

Confused, Coryanne made her way to her father’s side. She looked back at Alicent, who was now in a warm embrace with (y/n).

“I am yours,” (y/n) whispered as she embraced Alicent. Then the Princess pulled away from the Queen before she could respond.

(y/n) made her way into the carriage. She knew that if she looked back at Alicent she would not be able to leave. 

She turned away from the Keep as her father and sister piled into the carriage. Soon the horses began their journey out of King’s landing.

(y/n) closed her eyes and tried to hold back the deluge of tears that threatened to break free.

-

Alicent watched as the wheelhouse grew farther and farther from the Keep. As soon as the gates closed behind it Alicent rushed to her quarters. 

She sank to her knees and started to cry. 

She was alone again.

Without ally.

Without love.

Without her sun.

A knock on her door shook her from her tears. She stood and faced the door. 

Ser Criston entered with a grave look on his face. 

Alicent’s heart sank. “What is it?”

Ser Criston swallowed hard. “Aemond has returned from Storm’s End, and I’m afraid he’s returned with grave news.”

Alicent frowned and shut her eyes. As she followed Ser Criston out into the hall she realized she had made the right decision to keep (y/n) as far away from the Keep as she could. War would not be avoided. 

[devizakura]

PENNYLOUVERSE - CANON EVENTS AND FANON CONSEQUENCES

I've realized that some people who like my Pennylou comics may not have watched the show and as such, some blanks normally filled in by canon might escape them.

As such, here's a list of canon events you might want to know (in black) and headcanoned continuations/consequences of said events (in red) as a lot of them are left uncertain for now. BEWARE OF SPOILERS!

Exterminations:

a special group of angels called “exorcists” (sometimes “exterminators”) descend to Hell once a year to kill sinners with angelic weapons (the only type of weapon able to kill permanently - when killed by other means, sinners just regenerate/respawn) to prevent overpopulation and a potential uprising.

As we later find out, until the trial in episode 6 where Charlie, the princess of Hell, tries to present the case that sinners can be redeemed, only the exorcists (including Adam - the first man - and Lute at the top of their hierarchy) and Sera, the High Seraph (currently the highest rank in Heaven’s hierarchy that we know of - Lucifer could've been above them going by Christian lore but seeing as Hazbin lore differs in some ways, we don't really know for now) know of the exterminations. Sera is very insistent on keeping it that way as to not disturb the peace in Heaven.

After the truth comes out during that trial, many other angels, including Emily, learn of the exterminations. Emily is horrified, while other angels’ opinions seem to be split.

In my timeline, all the angels present at the trial have sworn under oath to keep the information confidential. However, that doesn’t stop rumors from spreading within some circles, especially after Adam seemingly disappears (having been killed in the battle for the Hotel) and Lute comes back lacking an arm. These rumors don’t reach Betty since she prefers to keep to her own and not stick her nose into matters that don’t concern her unless she can directly help someone, so she remains rather oblivious until told directly by Pentious who's lived through it.

Pentious as the first redeemed soul:

During the last extermination in which Adam's legion targets the hotel specifically, Pentious dies protecting it. Normally, this would result in a perma-death (and as such everyone who knew him believes he is in fact gone for good), but for reasons currently quite unknown, he ascends to Heaven instead.

In the Pennylou timeline, after Pentious arrives to Heaven in front of Sera and Emily, he is assigned a place to stay and allowed to roam free (under some degree of supervision for at least the first few weeks) but is advised not to reveal to the public that sinners can be redeemed as Sera feels the need to assess the situation first. For the same reason, he is not allowed to contact anyone in Hell to let them know redemption works until it is deemed safe to do so.

The "ex":

Back in Hell, Sir Pentious had a crush on Cherri Bomb, his archnemesis. They don’t end up together, but Sir Pentious does manage to confess his love and kiss her right before sacrificing himself.

While she does warm up to him by the end, in the Pennylou timeline (and true to Cherri’s character), she moves on rather quickly as they were never really together and she quite literally saw him die. Pentious, however, still misses her for quite some time. This gives Betty the wrongful impression that there was at least a bit more between them and she refers to Cherri as his “ex” rather than a crush.

What Pentious told Betty about after “Off my chest”:

The exterminations and how he died a second time

The hotel and redeeming sinners, as well as the friendships he’s made and how he misses Cherri and his Egg Boiz

He does not disclose much about his life before the hotel until much later if at all, as he doesn't feel particularly proud of his past.

[kolachess]

Qiubing Chinese Fic Recs: What if rewrites

Sharing some more Qiubing fic recs from Lofter! Remember, these fics are written in Chinese, and so if you want to read them, you'll have to suffer some terrible MTL (or be able to read Chinese). Note: I’ve found that Safari’s built in translation seems to fare better than Google, as the names are least translated properly. I haven’t played around with other translators.

This round is focused on some of the (many) 'what if?' themed rewrites, which I'm currently obsessed with (in case you missed my first rec). Most of these involve rebirth / time-travel / consciousness returning to a previous part of the timeline. (Reborn here means to have been reborn into an earlier time.)

Note: Lofter is similar to Tumblr, and authors post chapters in individual blog posts. To find later chapters of the same work, just navigate to the author's page and search through blog titles with the same title (usually they'll number it somehow). Also, these titles tend to be more descriptive like a prompt rather than function like AO3 poetic titles.

Disclaimer: Crappy title translations and rough synopsis are mine... don't judge too hard 🤣). These synopsis notes are more for me to remember what the story is about... Also, my criteria for good Chinese fics is simply not being too OOC, and NO easter egg BS (i.e. the author basically tries to make money off of their fic by hiding majority of the story behind a paywall). My Chinese is too crappy to pick out good prose vs. bad prose haha.

Title TL: Sickly kitty, acting mode is on (WIP)

(AKA: What if Li Bing had returned to Shendu after those three years still sickly and with white hair, if he never entered Dalisi, but knew a lot of things?)

Synopsis notes: Mostly a canon rewrite, but with a LB who has white hair and prone to illness. LB still ends up involved in all the cases, but there's slightly less animosity between our favorite pair and more of QQZ trying to look after LB.

Title TL: Reborn before any tragedy occurs; this time we must have satisfaction (WIP)

(AKA: What if Li Bing's consciousness returns to a time when no tragedy had yet occurred?)

Synopsis notes: LB returns back to before their country started the war, before his father died, and before he parted with QQZ. He implores his father and QQZ to investigate the suspicious nature of the war, and thus they embark on more investigations. Features a stubborn LB, protective but indulgent QQZ, LB crossdressing as a woman because Wang Qi isn't there, redeemed Chen Jiu...

Title TL: What if after General Qiu died, Li Bing was reborn? (COMPLETE)

(AKA: What if LB returns to when he first took up his post as the Vice Minister of Dalisi?)

Synopsis notes: LB returns to when he first returned to Shendu and took on the Vice Minister post. Features a calm and shameless tease LB and a QQZ trying his best to remain unaffected and maintain a charade. LB keeps sneaking into QQZ's room in the middle of the night...

Title TL: If you eat (my) Li family's bing (cake), then you become my (Li Bing's) person (WIP)

(AKA: What if QQZ's consciousness returns to when he first met LB?)

Synopsis notes: QQZ returns to when he first met LB and tries to cue him into the conspiracy earlier and prevent all tragedies from happening. Features QQZ centric POV, which is a fresh take! Of course, doting and indulgent QQZ as always...

Title TL: A reborn Li Bing will definitely force Qiu Qingzhi to spill the beans (COMPLETE)

(AKA: What if LB was reborn to three years prior as QQZ returns from war and manages to force him to speak the truth instead of avoiding him?)

Synopsis notes: LB returns to when QQZ just returned from war and stubbornly refuses to let the guy ghost him. Featuring an alive and doting papa Li, sickly and fragile LB (no cat form), doting / protective / occasionally teasing QQZ, Yi Zhihua becoming bffs with LB (much to QQZ's chagrin), and everyone is happy.

[cjstararts]

The parents:

The kids:

↑↑Adopted↑↑

Another universe if Mila didn't got miscarriage:

↓The tragic of the last albino↓

Marco is the black eyes and enji is the halo one

Mila was only 16 when she got Brittany but in the canon one she lost her due to Marco abuse. Of course they try again and got Tyler, Mila genetic isn't strong which is why some has white hair, white pupils and wolf ear. In another universe Alexander never was found by Mila to be adopted

Mila is mentally and physically abuse since she is 15, Marco kidnapped her to his wife after he assault her. Mila got a lot of bruise from her previous marriage. Marco treat her better after she lost their daughter because of his actions, the results are Tyler was born.

After Tyler was born, she witness the death of her husband by her brother-in-law. Of course she ran away so enji couldn't hurt her son to get the throne, but that wasn't what he wants...

In another universe, she carry Brittany on her back with Tyler in her arms running away from her husband, yes in this other timeline Marco never died instead agree to work together with his brother enji. Enji secretly assault Mila when Marco was away until Marco find out the truth and execute her after Brianna was born. She gave birth to Maya when Marco is away too, that's why he never knew about Maya until the birth of Brianna. If you're wondering, yes, Marco and Brittany knew

[bleue-flora]

Welp speaking of plans, thanks to @dr3amofagame’s post [here] with related linked posts, I can’t help but find myself once again thinking about staged duo’s Plan. And I’m not really sure I have any great theories on the matter, as has been pointed out it’s very hard to weed through the lies and truth of what staged duo said on their stage after all.

Having said that though, something I do find interesting is that clingy duo seem to interpret the immorality as never growing old and living forever, but given what we know about the resets, I wonder if it’s more about wanting to finish this cycle. Whether it’s less live forever and more live life with my friends till I grow old without it being cut short prematurely. “I don’t want this is be temporary” -> I don’t want to die and it be permanent - but maybe it’s not death in respect to canon lives (since that “doesn’t matter”) but perhaps the ultimate death via the reset that perhaps Dream and Punz discovered in their research. Maybe it wasn’t about being immortal as we think of it, but about being able to live this lifetime to completion.

On one hand, if their goal was always to have one big family again, presumably then maybe they wanted the reset. They were so relaxed because they knew it didn’t matter in the end because the world was being reset and maybe they had made peace with that - that things could be simple again. On the other hand, maybe it wasn’t just about any family but to be with the friends they love and care about without wars and conflict dividing them. In either case, I don’t think they really caused the reset. Like dr3 is right, Foolish’s death toll, the Egg and stuff were far more influential then them killing some people and bringing them back. After all, XD gave them the book, surely he knew what would happen. So then let’s say they sensed the reset coming and wanted to prevent it.

And perhaps death is the problem and the solution - it’s the problem because DreamXD wants to reset the world because there isn’t enough death to power him. But by also weakening him it makes him more vulnerable to be defeated. Death then is the cause of the need for restart and yet a possible solution to preventing it. Maybe Lazar and Vik weren’t mistakes because of their experiments and breaking the balance or whatever, but because they killed them fully giving XD power through their souls.

Maybe they purposely wanted everyone to come after them so the Egg didn’t get the souls it needed. Maybe if they did actually intend to kill everyone the thought was that they’d just bring them back, keeping the power out of the supernatural greater beings hands’. But then again, I do think that killing everyone wasn’t really the point - that feels like a page out of a typical villain book like some Thanos bs or something, which makes sense when we consider he took a play right out of Loki’s book by staging his capture.

Maybe then they panicked at the end about the nuke because it would kill a whole lot of people too and so they didn’t want to give XD more power to reset. Or as long as they (Dream and Punz) are alive death is impermanent so maybe they planned to bring people back after they died from the Egg - like stop any apocalypse that XD tried to cause like he does in the other timelines with the Egg or a character murder spree. Like XD doesn’t seem to have the power to reset them unless they are all dead so maybe Punz and Dream’s plan was to keep that from happening and hey if everyone came to them then it’s easy to keep them from killing eachother, Pandora keeps them safe from the Egg and if everyone’s inside no one can use the nukes. Maybe the saw room was actually for them, for one of them to stay and the other to escape - after all as long as one of them lives they cannot die. Maybe the reason they were worried about Wilbur, Sapnap, Quackity was because those were Dream’s most active threats and the ones with the means and likelihood to cause problems and play a role in strengthening XD and ending the world, Tommy doesn’t really fit in those categories of concern - “I was focused on everyone but you.”

I don’t know… but it’s interesting to think about for sure as well as the question always on my mind - WHY WERE THEY IN THE MAIN CELL WHEN TOMMY ARRIVED?!………..

[airjemsfandump]

❝Did you never know, long ago, how much you loved me—

Doomed by the Narrative

(incorrect Link Click), mild canon divergence

─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉ ─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉ ─┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

╰┈➤ ❝

Theirs is a case that's happened many times in the past. They aren't special. Even if it often feels like it, the truth is that the gods were too occupied with merrymaking to pay any attention to the board when they rolled the dice and moved the pieces. No matter how much pain it caused them--so much they could've sworn no other human had bled the way they did--the truth of the matter is that it's just another blip on the radar. Nothing groundbreaking. Just a moment within a second that would soon be forgotten when the clock's hand completed a full turn into a minute--into an hour, a day...

He knew this. He was no fool.

The first time Cheng Xiaoshi died before his eyes, the world didn't stop. It kept turning, uncaring, as if his world didn't end right then and there.

The second time it happened, nothing changed, only the circumstances of his death.

But people say that the third time's the charm because there's always something about the number three that is quite fascinating. The Law of Thirds, it's called. A single day, for instance, is divided into three parts. If one part goes missing, tomorrow cannot come nor can you return to yesterday. Their little tight-knit friend group which was almost like his blood family was also made up of three people--Cheng Xiaoshi, Qiao Ling, and him--Lu Guang. And then this--an answer to his grief after going back in time twice.

Thrice now.

When Lu Guang made his dive for the third time, the stars seemed to shift. He didn't know what it was. A glitch in the matrix? A coincidence? Or was it the gods toying with their red strings again? Lu Guang couldn't say for sure but for some unknown reason, Cheng Xiaoshi deviated from the script they had followed since. The safe part, not yet the climax of the tragedy.

They had walked this path before and in all those timelines, they had both come out unscathed. The grand confrontation would come later, approximately five months from now. This should still be part of their grace period. But. But Cheng Xiaoshi, stubborn, smart, and frustratingly kind Cheng Xiaoshi, had decided to throw that away to save one woman's life.

One single text message. That was all it took to alter this time's future. And once again, Lu Guang found himself grasping at airs.

Lost. Anxious. Confused. He stood on his toes, always on high alert, attentive as ever in case something jumped out from the shadows and threatened the peace they'd built.

But it would all soon come to pass when Lu Guang finally gleamed at a semblance of clarity. The neverending whys and what's, all answered with a single thrust of a sharp blade into his gut. Eyes wide in disbelief as he looked at Qiao Ling--their sweet Qiao Ling, ever so sassy, courageous, and kind--wearing a sinister smile that didn't belong in her angelic face.

As he fell on the couch, hot blood pouring from his wounds as Qiao Ling made sure he wouldn't stand again, a light flicked on in his mind. A hypothesis. One he didn't consider before because he was too damn selfish, too caught up on his idea of happiness that he didn't consider this. That maybe, just maybe, the thing he needed to fix was himself all along. He was the hamartia. The disease. And in order for Cheng Xiaoshi to live, he had to terminate his very own existence.

Such a simple answer. He should've just done it a long time ago. He could've saved Xiaoshi all the grief from reliving other people's pain.

How ridiculous.

He wanted to laugh but his vision was already blurring. And as darkness began to devour him, beyond it, he heard his Xiaoshi scream.

Please, gods... He prayed for the first time in a long while, Please, let me be right. Make of me as you see fit, but please let him live.

The next time he opens his eyes, he'd be fourteen again.

Someone just called him.

When he turns his head, he sees the kid he met at the basketball court a week prior.

There's a huge smile plastered on his face and then there it is again, this irritating feeling under his skin. Itchy. Scalding. Begging for him to notice. This familiarity that seems to draw him in toward the boy. As if he had known him before. That bright smile and the subtle sadness in his eyes. It fees like something he should know, like a forgotten memory.

He said his name is Cheng... Cheng Xiaoshi? That was how he had introduced himself to him, all sweaty and smiles after a rather energetic round of basketball.

Cheng Xiaoshi waves him over and Lu Guang immediately heeds as if it is the most natural thing in the world.

And at that moment, the stars shifted once more.

As he watches Lu Guang close the distance between them, Cheng Xiaoshi is hit with the urge to take him into a tight embrace and keep him there for as long as time allowed.

But he couldn't. He shouldn't. This Guang Guang doesn't know him yet. All the words he has been wanting to say, he's kept close to his heart, waiting for the right moment to pour them out once and for all.

Two lifetimes already. He has wasted two. And in both lives, he had lost Lu Guang too.

But this time--This time, he promised himself as he stares at his reflection in those beautiful gray eyes he thought he'd never see again, this time, let me be the one to save you.

Even if it costs me my life...

And it will. They will never know this, they will keep trying to pull each other from the quicksand of death, but their fates have been written long ago. The gods have willed it. No matter the time or the universe, one of them is always going to be a star and the other--destined to only gaze at them from afar. ❞

[meta-squash]

I've been watching Jack's canon timeline for fic-writing purposes and man the series of emotional events from Out Of Time to Kiss Kiss Bang Bang is just so intense if you look at it chronologically.

In Out Of Time, Torchwood is responsible for the 3 people from the 1950s and Jack connects with John, identifies with him and also wants desperately to help him. It's pretty obvious that Jack feels responsible for and identifies with John at least in part because of the time period he comes from and because they have similar feelings. But John is lost and desperate and cannot assimilate into the 21st century. He kills himself with Jack by his side, but one of the things he says before he does, when he's trying to convince Jack to let him go is "Don't condemn me to death." Jack, like John, feels alone and scared and out of his time and out of his depth, but John can escape in death. Even if it is just blackness, at least he has agency, has a choice.

Then, in Combat, you have Owen doing exactly the same thing. Also suicidal, overwhelmed, in despair. Also choosing to take his own life in order to escape his pain. Only Jack has some measure of control over this. Whether or not he knew Owen was attempting suicide by Weevil before they came into the warehouse guns blazing, he was able to stop it and I think he knows Owen well enough to know that even broken down and depressed, he has the strength to get through it. But still, Owen's statement of "I didn't want saving" is another reminder that Jack is responsible for them all and also that they have a choice he'll never have.

Then he and Tosh end up in the 40s, a time period he's lived through twice and clearly has a lot of love and nostalgia for, but he also learns the truth about his namesake and must take on that grief and again that lack of agency -- he can't do anything to save the real Captain Jack. It's pretty clear he doesn't think he's worthy of the name he's chosen.

Then there's End Of Days, where he's forced to admit that he doesn't know what he's doing all the time, that he's just as frightened and desperate as his team. And they betray him, and rebel, and kill him, and then he dies fighting Abadon and stays dead for a while.

Then he chases the Doctor, and they end up on Utopia, and they have that conversation in the radiated couplings room where the Doctor asks Jack if he wants to die. Jack says "I dunno. I thought I did." But that he is encouraged by seeing humanity surviving. (But also in this same conversation the Doctor tells Jack to his face that he's Wrong and feels bad to be around.)

Then he's chained up and tortured by the Master for a year before returning to his team.

I dunno, it's just really sad that he's just reminded of all the reasons he wishes he could die and also the way in which he's condemned to live (and therefore condemned to constantly be responsible, and constantly lose and grieve), and then when he gets a brief glimmer of hope, a moment where he finally thinks maybe he doesn't want to die for real, he's plunged into a year of torture, both physical and psychological.

[fizzyorange-v2]

yeah you put all of my thoughts about david and william's relationship into that one post they're so tragic... i cant help but think of a different timeline where they could have been awkward brothers together, maybe one where they didn't both come from deadwood. the foreshadowing on william's part too, where in the Michael in the Bathroom parody intro from ep 32 (of all places) william sings "he's always such a bummer, he wants to trust his brother" in referring to himself. Also, the implication that everyone who comes from deadwood is messed up makes me wonder how william's parents are. maybe it has to do with the hallway of fears all the way from season 1, where william's mirror showed his father behind him with messed up eyes?

/ pd ep 33 spoilers referenced beware

Maybe in a totally different universe they could’ve had an awkward and strained but mostly healthy and normal sibling relationship. but god knows with who David is in this universe (a morally corrupt ceo) any version of William that allows himself to get close with and trust his step brother is a version that is either equally morally corrupt, very manipulated or both, and no matter what it wouldn’t be a healthy dynamic. (and that’s not really a compliant on my part, i adore fucked up and messy relationships in media lol).

Totally agree that the Michael In The Bathroom cover gave us probably one of the clearest looks into William’s psyche during this whole thing. William really did go that far because he wanted to trust his brother, and he knew if he backed out then he could lose that potential sibling relationship forever. But obviously once he realised he’d actually KILLED someone for it… the betrayal and horror overpowered that old yearning.

William’s parents have always been a source of interest to me because like… William has never said anything outwardly negative about them, but then his actions and demeanour around them always portray something slightly different. I do believe he loves and cares for his parents. But I also think the relationship there has always been kind of strained. My guess is, on top of the general David was the big shot success story William could never live up to, William was always quite distant with his family. He could always see the supernatural (something that even then made him somewhat a freak from this weird but still rural seemingly conservative leaning town) and he spent most of his time out with friends on hunts that I doubt he ever told his parents the truth of before he actually died.

His parents are canonically church goers, it would make sense that William wouldn’t want to tell them he was messing around with devilish stuff, nor that he himself was possessed in some way and able to see the dead. But then he dies, and his freakishness goes from 1 to 100 and there’s no way he can hide it now, especially not if his parents are shown his dead, lifeless body before he wakes back up in it. And maybe his parents saw this as a miracle at first, rather than the work of the devil, but either way we know from the recent rolled that William truly believes his parents see him as some freak, and I’d definitely guess the other towns people if they knew… maybe it wasn’t great for the family reputation wise in such a small town.

And there is something to the fact that, well, in the end when the monsters came for William they did just give him away to the heroes. And sure, they stayed in touch somewhat? But even then it’s one or two calls in months to years of time to your teenaged kid (though I’ll retract that if it’s implied that it was William dodging their calls… but even that leads to a point I’ll make in a bit).

But then whenever they do come back,,, even after everything they don’t seem to take William seriously. Which is very interesting. They’re often worried about him, but they don’t seem to listen to him as we saw in their recent scene where his mum got mad and had to be really persuaded to leave. They don’t seem to comprehend the severity.

They don’t understand what’s going on with him, they don’t have a clue, and I don’t think they ever really did. I think William has always been too afraid to tell them the truth about what’s going on with him (whether that was being able to see the dead, or now all the hero villain mess he’s stuck in), he’s always been afraid of them seeing him like a freak, them no longer loving him. And so he keeps it a secret and he keeps it away from them and he distances himself the best he can. He’d probably argue that it’s to keep them safe, but I think he’s mostly protecting his own heartbreak of them finding out “who he really is” and rejecting him. I think that’s his big fear, and it’s a fear he’s carried around with him since even before his first death.

So while I don’t think his parents are,,, necessarily malicious. I think they’ve definitely fucked up with William. I don’t think they ever made him feel safe enough to be himself around them. I don’t think they’ve ever been there for William when he really needed. And I don’t think they’ve ever known who their son was. But then they still act like they know best for him, they still play the concerned parents. And I think they genuinely believe they do know and want what’s best for William. But the issue there is… they don’t know who William is, and they haven’t for a really long time.

David left too, y’know? He also got the hell out deadwood as soon as he could. He also talked to (and bonded with) William over their clear joint disliking of that place. And I wonder if his parents are oblivious to how much their kids hated where they grew up, if they’re just oblivious to all of the weirdness of deadwood. Why they chose to live and stay there in the first place. They still live there to this day!

I don’t know,,, I have a lot of thoughts about the wisp-bell family and all the mess and dysfunction there. I didn’t even really get into the religious trauma of it all, which is likely a strong part of why William felt the need to hide and distance himself from his parents,,, but yeah I’ll stop rambling for now lol

[hypnotisedfireflies]

William seems to be one of the few parts of Tess’ past that she doesn’t mind looking back on, she always remembers him fondly. But whatever became of dear William? We know that he eventually dies?? but do you have any behind the scenes ideas about his fate? What did the time after outbreak look like for him?

In a different timeline, what would a William and Tess reunion look like post outbreak/Jackson times? How would their friendship change? What would William think of Joel? (I know we get some idea of this in Blood Orange when Tess is bantering with him in her head. (I love that scene)) I’m imagining a lot of teasing and embarrassing stories that make Rachel’s look down right tame.

I hope this ask isn’t too niche btw, I just love all the details you add into your stories and would love to know more.

Oh, what a cool ask! Thank you anon, we don’t talk about William Szulc much so this is nice to explore.

Driftersverse canon, William is definitely gone.  Tess imagines in that Blood Orange banter that cause of death was waffles, which is her way of hoping that he went quickly and didn’t suffer through everything that happened.  She tells herself that he was one of the first directly infected and was put down that first night. 

The truth isn’t too dissimilar from that.  William didn’t make it very far.  He was never infected, though.  He was killed in the chaos of that first weekend - Tess will never know it, but he was caught up in one of the explosions she saw from her home.

Had he lived, William would have been a pretty cunning survivor, not unlike Tess.  They got along so well because they recognised a certain callousness in one another, I guess?  Not the nicest thing, but they knew how to care for someone who held the world at a distance.  They had an extremely low-maintenance friendship.  They could be fucking horrible to one another and it was just water off a duck’s back; they could go without speaking because life was busy for months and pick up right where they left off; they had one another’s backs especially when the other person was in the wrong.  But they didn’t necessarily hold one another accountable or dig too deep below the surface.  Their friendship was close, but it was indulgent.  All about the good times – which is kind of why Tess can’t call him in Snowqueen.  I think we all have some friendships like that. There's nothing wrong with them, it's just the way some relationships are.

Had he lived and made it to Jackson it would have been a very different dynamic.  They wouldn’t have been just able to pick up like they used to.  Too much had happened, and I think William probably went Full Villain in those years.  I mean, Tess and Joel aren’t really the good guys either, but I can imagine William going around with a title like The Commodore and living a very long-term raider/hunter existence.  The kind of survivor group with FEDRA tanks and equipment, cutting FEDRA supply lines and also being a total menace to the Fireflies, too.

So I can see if William had showed up in Jackson – all that left behind for one reason or another – that it would be a kind of strange and heartbreaking time rather than joyous.  Our guys would have their Spidey senses tingling that something is not right with this guy, and Joel and Lachie would come to an agreement that Tess is not to be left alone with him.  So you know, Tess is trying to hang out with William and Lachie is doing a Sam Gamgee outside the window, trimming the verge. 

Lachie and William, btw, on paper should be the best of friends.  Both strangers in a strange land, and Australians and Brits tend to gravitate together abroad.  But they have taken very different paths of survival and have different outcomes.  They’d start a cricket team and teaching Jacksonites how to play, but then end up arguing about the Ashes and batting averages and spin bowling.  Lachie would call him a pom, William would call him a convict, Lachie would argue that he’s only second gen on his dad’s side and third on his mum’s so he’s not a convict, blah blah blah.

Over time, William would start to get better, but I think he would be one of those people who would always be a bit unstable.  But he would have a plethora of stories to tell Joel, anon! You are very right about that.  Rachel was positively PG compared to what William could tell Joel.  In fact, Joel probably doesn’t really want to know some of the stuff William can tell him.  And here also is a person who could give Joel a more unbiased opinion of Tess and Mike’s relationship – but Joel actually doesn’t care about that anymore at this point in time. 🥹 So he never asks.

In return, William would be very mistrustful of Joel to begin with.  Not really Joel’s fault;  William doesn’t trust anyone (not even Tess) by this juncture. Plus, he's very obviously watching him. But over time he would start to respect him, especially given how long he has been in Tess’s life and helped keep her alive. 

Ouch, that got dark.  I hope that’s not a downer, anon.

Not all reunions are happy ones.

[grollow]

kekekekekeke grimm and radiance having a chat (any time period)

This is the one I chose for the anons, because I'm slightly addicted to writing their interactions.

This is a Red Sky/W&G-verse snip that isn't in any of the chapters/won't make it into them. Sorry not sorry. But if you've read Red Sky at Morning or White & Gray, this will make a lot more sense. Canonically, this would take place after W&G Chapter 31. (It isn't REALLY a spoiler for Red Sky, if you've read W&G you know all this already. But it contextualizes Grimm some.)

(I should add that they're not friendly. They are siblings, but they are not friendly at all.)

whatever i've done, you've deserved. || AO3

“You were helping it, that shadow creature in the usurper’s lands.”

It was not a question and so he did not offer her an answer. In truth, he was more surprised that she’d found them: something had changed that made their dreams a… struggle. He could still reach them but it was more energy, more effort, than he was willing to put forth. 

He had his suspicions as to what that ‘something’ was, but…

“The void has never dared to dream before, sister,” he told her; he was not surprised at all to find her. Their realm was split by a great canyon, but dreams were strange and sound carried. Even though they were nowhere near one another, he could hear her with absolute clarity. He thought that he’d be able to, even if he was not near where the fissure could be found. 

(He did not want to hear her, though. The whimsy of her voice and musical lilt were replaced with something harsher and that brought to mind claws on rock – not unlike his own, but far worse. Worse, because his was never beautiful even before he’d burnt his throat. Hers was. Her voice was gorgeous once upon a time.)

“And you thought to hide that it now does from me?”

“Mmhmm.”

“It is connected to me,” she said, no small amount of anger in her voice. “It is connected and –”

“You have never met them,” he corrected. “The one you speak of. Until recently.”

“It knows me,” she countered and she put one wing against the clear barrier that separated them. The canyon was vast, and on either side there were walls that shimmered iridescent from time to time. The sky bled into the colours of sunset where red met orange.

Below the canyon was a river made up of every colour imaginable and some that eyes could not properly perceive. Lost souls who would find their way to one of their realms eventually – dreamers without a place to go. Yet.

He turned his head to the side to watch her.

“Many know of you, sister.”

“It knows me.” Emphasis on that word. He knew. He’d… seen things. Things that he did not fully understand, but that he recognized nonetheless. A timeline unwoven. “It knows me, and you sought to hide that from me!”

He did not dispute her point. He despised lying.

“Why? Why would you help it, brother? For all our differences, we are the same song – played in inverse. What happens to me happens to you.”

He’d long thought as much, too. That if she died, he would die. There was no proof either way, except that they were both dependent on one another. That she could not kill him and he could not kill her. They could deal one another grievous bodily harm, but it made no difference.

She’d once compared them to scales: that when he ascended, she descended. That her fall was required to grant him flight, and true in reverse.

Neither of them knew for sure. It was not as though there were others exactly like them to compare to. Higher Beings came from all sorts, but they? They were concepts, emotions given a physical form, and there was nothing like them. There was no one to even ask.

And he was…

… not afraid to die if it stopped the vicious cycle she trapped herself and her opponent in.

Something had to give.

(Enough.)

“You are my brother. You would –”

“I am your brother but I am not your ally,” he interrupted her softly. “And I owe you no explanation for my motivations.” 

She slammed her wing loudly into the barrier and then screeched at him. The sound was… very loud. Loud.

He turned away and started to leave. She called, “I knew that you were angry, but brother –”

“I am not.”

He stopped. He… was not angry at her. Perhaps it would have been easier to bear the betrayal in her voice if he was. There was some part of him that hurt greatly, that broke into pieces at how sad she sounded. How raw. 

She was his sister. Some part of him loved her as much as he was able. 

But love could not fix the rift between them and he did not want it to.

“I am tired, sister.” He turned, then, to look over his shoulder. “Of being trapped in an endless loop with you. Of following to clean up the messes you and others leave behind. And of watching you spiral into something I barely recognize anymore. I am not angry. I am tired.” 

She would not understand.

Once she was a brilliant light, who illuminated the sky and left no shadows in her wake. Once, her vibrance was so remarkable that he found himself bespelled by her and how could he not be? He, a flickering flame, in the face of the burning of the sun? 

But what she was…

She was not herself anymore. She was a caricature and –

If she was –

It was a mercy, he thought, to let her go. The creature she was would have been distraught at the monster she’d become. A monstrous misrepresentation of all that she was meant to be. Hope… corrupted into despair.

“You would help it,” she said, and her voice dropped. “I will drag you down with me, brother. I will not go alone.”

He nodded slowly.

“No. We will go together, or not at all. As has always been our way. Goodbye, sister.”