#AND GWEN’S DEVOTION TO THEM AS WELL. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mikashisus · 18 days ago

Text

THUS ALWAYS TO TYRANTS

02.5. my heart knew the weight

notes. ITS FINALLY HEREEEE!!! the chapter i spent 8 long and grueling months writing, revising, and getting frustrated over is finally here!!! i put my blood, sweat, and tears into this to make it as enjoyable and eerie as possible! if some scenes with barbatos don’t make sense, dw bc the plot will all unfold in the next few chapters! this fic is supposed to be confusing. barbatos and the mc r both unreliable narrators in their own ways - and that means u shouldn’t trust what they say, but the ppl around them (cough rukkhadevata and jean cough). the plot rlly picks up in this chapter so im super excited to see how u guys react hehe

taglist. @wystiix @pneumosia @kazuinvocation @daydreaming-paradies @gl4di0lus @pixelcafe-network

word count. 11.2k

masterlist | prev. | next

“So let me get this straight…“ Gwen said, shuffling around on the tabletop, “you and my brother went to the library together?”

She grabbed a piece of cheese from the plate resting by her thigh and popped it into her mouth, a small smirk beginning to form on her lips. “And afterwards, he showed off and offered to teach you how to wield a sword?”

You let out a small huff. “He didn’t ‘show off’, per say…” you trailed off, a smile pulling at your lips, “he was just clearing monsters from our path.”

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Same thing! I know my brother, so he was definitely showing off! After all, he was the best swordsman in Cairnfelle!”

Quirking a brow, you leaned forward, about to ask about this ‘Cairnfelle’ she mentioned, when she suddenly clapped her hands together. “So! What’d you find?” She rested her hands on her knees, dangling her foot off the edge of the table.

“Well, there wasn’t a whole lot. I ended up checking out four books. I already read through three, and so far, nothing.” You explained, thinking back to the journal you found.

There wasn’t a single thing about Barbatos in that journal. Two of the other books were origin stories— one being how Barbatos taught the birds of the world how to fly. The other book had been a written biography about Barbatos and Queen Catalina’s adventures. Although it was a thrilling read packed to the brim with suspense and laughter that made your stomach ache, it wasn’t enough.

None of the books were giving you what you wanted: information on who Barbatos really was. All the books you checked out had told of his exploits after Decarabian’s fall. There was next to nothing regarding his life before the rebellion; It was as if he hadn’t existed until recently.

And quite frankly, you were beginning to get a little frustrated. The red strings on your mental investigation board were going nowhere, connecting to nothing.

Gwen hummed thoughtfully. “So, you read through the first three. What about the last one? Any luck?”

“I haven’t read it yet.”

“How about you bring it to our home tomorrow? We can read it together!” She smiled, bright and genuine.

The proposition was an intriguing one, though you preferred to handle this crisis on your own. Gwen, as far as you were concerned, was a devout worshipper of Barbatos.

The most you told her about why you had gone to the library was that you were gathering information on a historical figure. You didn’t know the depth of her loyalty to Barbatos, and you weren’t willing to test it by explaining your true motives.

She was a kind soul, that much was true, but she could have been reminiscent of the utterly devoted nuns from the church.

(And when faced with doubtful questions about their god, they were a force to be reckoned with— an annoying pest that wouldn’t go away. A headache inducing interaction.)

Her offer was from the heart, you knew it was. That, paired with her dazzling smile, made a pool of guilt settle in your stomach. You couldn’t possibly say no, especially not to someone so kindhearted as her.

With a silent sigh, you returned her smile and nodded.

She clapped her hands together again and hopped off the table. “Great! Hopefully we luck out this time! Right?” She grabbed her now empty plate and glass and retreated back behind the bar.

The last book was a worn, battered thing that looked much older than the journal you found. An archaic symbol was etched into the front, and the pages were yellowed and ripped in some spots.

A name was inscribed into the back cover in elegant calligraphy, though part of it was smudged by a stain and you could only make out three letters.

You hadn't opened the book yet. You didn't want to— not without Gwen. After all, the whole reason you were here, sitting on a plush couch in a cozy oceanside cabin, was because she had suggested you read through the book together. However, it seemed as though she had forgotten about that proposal, as when you arrived at her home, she was nowhere to be seen.

Arbor had been the one to welcome you in. He was outside at the time, tearing some hay-filled dummies to shreds with a rickety old wooden sword that has seen better days. His skin, a warm tawny, orange-brown, glowed as the sun beat down on his figure. Sweat hung from his brow and slithered down his fully toned chest and abdomen, and you couldn't help the way your eyes trailed him for a moment, entranced.

He caught sight of you and nodded curtly, gathering up his previously discarded white shirt and wiping the sweat from his face. His auburn hair was messy, sticking up in some places. He opened the gate leading into the garden and led you into the cabin his family called home. Now, you were waiting as he fetched you a lemonade from the kitchen.

The Blair family's house was a humble old home, with paintings lining the walls and fun little knick knacks littered around on tables and shelves. There was a wall listing the entire family's achievements— from joining the royal guard, their contributions in war, rising to the ranks of elite soldiers labeled as "The Archangel Knights," and their feats during the rebellion and rebuilding of Mondstadt. It was clear to you that this family was a family of heroes.

The first floor of the house was composed of three rooms: the kitchen, the common space, and a small storage closet. The kitchen and common space were connected, the walls open and the ceilings somewhat high. A series of plants lined the windowsills and some hung from the ceiling. Flower pots filled with cecilias and windwheel asters occupied the table in front of you.

A set of stairs leading up to the second floor of the house sat to your right, with garland wrapping snugly around the banister. A faded red banner hung from one of the walls, the symbol on it unfamiliar to you. Another sat next to it, this one a newer, bright seafoam blue with a cecilia flower in the middle and gold lining the edges. Gold tassels hung from the ends, and the banner billowed gently as a passive breeze filtered in through a nearby window. All the windows were covered with white, partially see-through curtains that allowed a considerable amount of sunlight to filter through, igniting the whole house with a dazzling warmth and a lively atmosphere.

In the corner of the common space, behind the couch you were sitting on, was a rack filled with six swords, all of them varying in color, size, and shape. All six had a different colored piece of cloth tied around the hilts.

A fluffy quilt laid across the back of the couch, its colors a bright yellow, red, and blue. The pattern on it was foreign, most likely from another nation.

Arbor returned from the kitchen, placing two glasses on the low table in front of you, one yours and one his. A plate of sweet potato fritters with cinnamon sugar was placed in the middle of the table for the both of you to share. He took a seat next to you and popped one of the fritters into his mouth.

"I deeply apologize on behalf of my sister," he began, shaking his head, "honestly. She needs to learn to keep her word."

A breathless chuckle escaped your lips. "It's alright. Where is she, anyway?"

He let out a sigh. "She's on church duty today. Unfortunately, she won't be back until later in the afternoon. If you want to stay here until then, you're more than welcome to—"

You politely turned down his offer. "That's quite alright. If it's no trouble, I can come back another day."

He raised a brow and glanced at the book in your hands. You had told him when you arrived that Gwen offered to read through this final book with you. Though, now that you knew she wasn't here and had forgotten your plans in the midst of her busy schedule, the only thing you could do was return back to the city.

Arbor's eyes trailed elsewhere, calculating. His jaw was clenched and he looked deep in thought. A few moments of awkward silence passed between you before he spoke up. "I could read it with you in her stead."

That certainly wasn't an offer you were expecting, especially from him. Though, you supposed after he volunteered to go to the library with you the other day, it wasn't that surprising.

"Afterwards, we can start your lessons in swordsmanship... if that sounds enticing to you."

It did.

You nodded, a smile on your face as you opened the book and shuffled a bit closer to him. He stayed put, allowing you to enter his space a little as you placed the book between the two of you.

‘In the epic days of yore, a few thousand years ago, the heavens sprang to life and opened. The divine angels sang a magnificent choir, and trumpets announced the birth of a deity from the high heavens. This deity that would later come to be known as an influential figure in the formation of Mondstadt as a nation— the god of memories herself, ELIGOS; or more commonly known by her mortal name, Queen Catalina.

Her fascination with humans led to what many referred to as “the great mindscape,” or rather, a period of time when she had entered the minds of mortals and sifted through their memories to gain a better understanding of humans. Her fascination exceeded humans and even reached other gods…’

With furrowed brows, you stopped reading. It seemed as if this was another book to be discarded. So far, it hadn’t mentioned Barbatos at all. Though, judging by the pointed look on Arbor's face, you decided to keep reading.

It was then that you noticed how close the two of you had gotten.

This close, you could see his features better. Focused, striking gray eyes with lavender bags underneath that you hadn’t noticed before, a hooked nose, smooth pink lips that were pursed together, and a perfectly sculpted jawline. The light filtering in from the window touched his skin, casting an ethereal glow upon him.

He looked like a god.

You had never seen a real god in your entire life up until you arrived in this era. Witnessing what true divinity looked like right before your very eyes had stirred something within you. It was revitalizing in a way you couldn’t fully describe nor understand.

And now, as you looked at Arbor, you could feel your heart beating just a little faster and your breath get caught in your throat. It wasn’t the same feeling you experienced when you saw Barbatos for the first time, but it sure was similar.

Small movement directed your attention away from his face and down to your hands. His fingers were brushing over yours as he brought the book closer. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and tried to focus on the words on the page rather than his fingers enveloping yours.

It was a difficult feat, but you recovered.

Maybe the Anemo Archon was mentioned somewhere in this book— perhaps in a later chapter.

The two of you continued to read about the adventures and origins of the previous god that had once ruled over the eastern side of Mondstadt. As it turned out, Catalina had been the first god to ever step foot into Mondstadt, with Andrius following close behind, and Decarabian invading upon their territory some hundreds of years later.

The tale of Catalina's life was filled with wonder and a bit of sorrow. The Ruler of Time had once again been brought up, mentioned briefly in a few paragraphs describing how she was a mentor to Catalina. It made sense to you. After all, Catalina was the god of memories and the Ruler of Time was just that: a god of time. Memories and time were closely intertwined. It was no surprise that two gods who commanded both were also in close association with the other.

Finally, what you had been searching for stared you right in the face. A whole entire chapter on Barbatos. Although this book turned out to be a biography of another god, you were more than happy to get at least a little information on the Anemo Archon, no matter how brief it could be.

You turned the page, and the entire section on his origins was smudged out, worn by time. A curse fell from your lips, and you had the sudden urge to throw the book across the room. Arbor steadied you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. He took the book from your hands and flipped until he came across a fully legible page. It wasn't about the origins of Barbatos, but it outlined his history with the gods of memories and time.

It was short, but informative.

‘The spirit that calls himself Barbatos and the Queen of the North Wind were two entities closely entwined. After (...), they were considered close allies and even closer friends. The mortals who looked upon their astounding companionship once spoke of how fond the two appeared to be of each other.

Some even questioned the Queen quietly, wondering if such companionship was a step towards something greater. Although the two gods have never spoken forthright about this matter, thus is apparent: they share something that is unequivocally whole, transcending that of mortal comprehension. It is a bond that could never be severed. It is to be admired.’

You've read enough history books in your life to know what those words meant. The meaning was there in bold letters on a neon flashing sign. However, Catalina was long dead. Whatever relationship she harbored with the Anemo Archon died with her, that much you were certain of— even if you never knew of her existence until recently.

Arbor hummed. "This book is right. The Queen and Barbatos were once close… closer than any mortal could ever hope to be with another. It was truly fascinating."

It was, but you had more than a few questions; The first being how this book was outlining such recent events when it looked as if it had been run through the mud ten times over. It looked as if it was from a time in the far past— a past that was way before the Archon War. The events recorded in the first half of its pages could only be known for so long before being forgotten.

Your second question, following up your previous one, was: just who wrote this? Surely whoever wrote it was as old as the book itself. It only made sense. Only someone immortal could remember and record these events with such vivid detail.

Instead of staying afterwards like you originally planned, you quickly left the Blair family’s home, taking a few fritters along with you at the behest of Arbor.

“It’s rare to see you here, Barbatos.”

Rukkhadevata was quick to exit the Sanctuary of Surasthana as soon as the matra had informed her of the Anemo Archon’s abrupt visit. Although unexpected and sudden, she welcomed him with open arms.

Her smile was soft and kind, and her verdant eyes were warm and inviting. She towered over him as she ushered him closer, her arms spread wide. “Welcome, finally, to Sumeru.”

The younger god returned her smile, descending to the stone floor with a final flap of his wings. He brushed off his feathers before his wings folded behind him. “It was about time I paid you a visit, my friend.”

Rukkhadevata’s smile faltered a little, her eyes scanning him with a knowing look. “You are not here for a simple sightseeing trip, are you?”

He hated how well she could see through him. With a sigh, he nodded. Without another word, she motioned towards the Sanctuary. He began to follow her as she hovered a hand over his lower back. Inside the Sanctuary, he could feel the thrum of life spiraling through its walls and floors.

He shivered at the coldness beneath his bare feet. Despite that, a warmth enveloped him from every angle as small, almost imperceivable green particles floated in the air. It was as if the entire building was breathing, providing a comforting, cozy atmosphere for those within.

In the middle of the bridge sat some sort of device he had never seen before. He eyed it curiously, watching silently as the Dendro Archon walked up to it. It slithered and recoiled, like a set of retreating vines, disappearing up into the high ceilings above.

A couch made out of vines was fashioned at the Dendro Archon’s will, and she ushered him forth with a smile. “Come. Sit. Would you like anything to eat or drink?”

He shook his head. Moving forward hesitantly, he sat upon the makeshift couch, crossing his legs together. Rukkhadevata hummed a soft tune, one that matched the eerie choir that resonated through the thrumming of the semi-sentient walls. She sat down, a cup of herbal tea in her hands.

“You are here for a number of reasons, but one of those is more important than the rest. What troubles you, my dear friend?”

As always, she knew. She always did.

He chuckled softly. “You always seem to know what I’m thinking, so… Wanna take a guess?”

She thought long and hard for a moment, her eyes closing. For a minute, it was silent, except for the faint choir resounding all around him.

The longer he stayed in the Sanctuary, the more out of place he felt. It was different— much different than what he was used to. Back in Mondstadt, places belonging to divinity were cold and biting. They didn’t breathe with the life force of nature. They sang like the howling winds. The cold was uninviting and cruel, pushing out anyone who did not belong. It sent intruders packing.

But here, it was the opposite. It was filled with warmth and comfort, drawing him in and enveloping him like a hug. There was no wind that sang, and no cold to whistle through his veins. There was a numbing hotness about the air, filled with the life force of nature.

Yes… it was much different than Mondstadt.

Rukkhadevata’s eyes fluttered open, glowing and full of knowledge. Her lips drew together in a tight frown. “I see. You wish to know if it is possible to alter time, even after recent events.” Her eyes dimmed back to their normal color, the divinity seemingly fading away.

He looked away. “I know it’s strange,” he began, “after all, I’m more than capable of doing it myself… but…”

“Messing with time can cause great catastrophes.” She finished, sighing heavily. “Not only that, but it is extremely difficult to alter Irminsul’s memories. Surely she had told you that.”

With great restraint, he stopped himself from sending her a harsh glare. He gritted his teeth, his tone venomous. “Don’t—” his expression softened as he met her eyes, and he swallowed, “yes. Altering memories— and time, especially in regards to Irminsul, is risky. I know that, but I wanted to at least do something good this time around…”

She studied him for a moment. Standing up, she brought up a holographic screen. “No one in history has ever entered Irminsul. No one in history has altered Irminsul… except for them.”

A white hot rage filled his veins at the mention of the Heavenly Principles. He pushed it aside and focused on Rukkhadevata’s words.

“However, that was until our little time traveler showed up.” She zoomed in on the screen, and he assumed she was looking at Irminsul. “In the course of a week, she altered fate on an unprecedented scale. I felt the shift in Irminsul— the pull of memories shifting around, convulsing, new ones appearing and replacing the old ones.”

She was silent for a moment, her brows drawn together in thought as she stared at what looked like various tree branches and nerves. “No one has ever changed fate like this… except for a god.”

He perked up at that, his surprise evident on his face. He opened his mouth to ask who, when she turned to him, her lips pursed tightly together.

“Barbatos… that god was you.”

His blood ran cold.

“Me?”

“Many millennia ago, at the start of this world— the beginning of Teyvat’s formation, the Ruler of Time created the Thousand Winds.” She expanded the screen, making it impossibly large. With her fingers, she moved some images around on the screen, showing a perfectly normal tree with only a few branches.

“From those Winds, a lone son wandered too far from his mother, and despite her orders, passed through the fractured barrier in spacetime, creating what we now regard as the ‘Barrier of Ikairo.’ It was an event that was never meant to happen. It was a stain on the Heavenly Principles— an act of disobedience.”

The tree shifted along with the events of the story. Its trunk twisted as thousands upon thousands of long, spindly branches appeared.

“As his punishment, Celestia forced him to partake in the Archon War and slay the person he cared for most. With her gone, he was awarded the title of Anemo Archon and appointed to the position of barrier guardian by strict order from the Ruler of Time.”

He sat there, his head down, shame filling his entire being. He hadn’t meant to cross the barrier. He hadn’t meant to put a dent in Irminsul. He hadn’t meant to cause such a disturbance nor change fate. And now, to pay for such unforgivable crimes, he was charged with immortality— a lifetime, chained, bound by duty. Not only as the Anemo Archon with a stolen authority from the ancient sovereigns, but a guardian of the barrier. And already, he had failed in his duty.

“Another… more soul crushing punishment was decreed just this week.”

He was aware. He had heard the trumpets, he had witnessed the trial, he had sat upon the physical manifestation of his throne and accepted the punishment. After all, he had no choice. Whatever the Heavenly Principles decreed was law. It was sacred scripture. It was carved into Irminsul, and there was no way of ever breaking free from these shackles.

He had let out a snort then. How ironic for the god of freedom to be chained. To be bound by duty, never actually— truly free. The shackles were there, invisible but there. He felt their weight in his heart and on his mind.

A hand gently grabbed his chin and lifted his now tear-stained face. Rukkhadevata, in all her tenderness and grace, peered back at him with a sorrowful look in her eyes. She knelt before him, softly rubbing her thumb over his cheek, swiping away his tears. Her other hand came up to rest on the back of his head.

She reminded him so similarly of his mother, but with more love and care wrapped in her heart. Maybe it had been because she was connected to the heart of the world— Irminsul.

With a hesitant motion, she pulled him towards her, enveloping him in a warm hug that he so desperately needed. He wrapped his arms around her, his head falling limp between her neck and collarbone. His body fell forward into her lap, and she cradled him in her arms as if he was a baby bird. His cries resounded through the Sanctuary, his tears staining her yellow-brown skin.

She rested her head upon his, bringing him in tighter, her brows furrowing together. They stayed that way for a while as the walls thrummed sadly, imitating the slow beat of a harrowed heart.

It had been a full two months since your first visit to the Blair family home. Upon realizing she accidentally bailed on you, Gwen invited you over for dinner the day after. That one night turned into two, and two turned into three, and so on and so forth until you were spending every night with them.

They were a jovial family, always playing music and regaling you with tales of adventures and old legends. Gwen would run off and grab an instrument, only to bring it down to the living room. She’d jump onto the coffee table and begin to sing, her voice filling the cabin with an exuberant atmosphere. Klaus and August would join in as Arbor stood from his seat and offered you a hand, bowing as if he was some prince asking a princess to dance.

He’d smile as he pulled you from your chair and wrapped an arm around your waist. You’d return his smile as you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Just follow my lead,” he’d tell you, and you did your best to match his steps as he twirled you around the room. Laughter pierced the air and wafted out through the open windows.

In those moments, you were able to forget everything and truly live in the moment.

Over the course of those two months, you learned how to wield a sword. Arbor was a ruthless teacher. His methods were quite… odd, but they were effective, so you didn’t question him. If it worked, then who were you to judge?

During those training sessions, you learned more about each other. His favorite color was a deep seafoam, akin to the ocean near his home. His favorite meal was schnitzel with warm potato salad. He loved sunsets, music, and to your surprise, graffiti art. He had a special ability to make every cat love him, no matter how feral one could be. He was a real momma’s boy before his mother died— always helping her out when needed and pledging his life to keeping her safe. He never admitted it, but you could see on his face that he blamed himself for his mother’s death.

You confided in him as he did you. You told him of the two men that felt like brothers to you— Diluc and Kaeya. You told him about your childhood, your family and how they’d host Oktoberfest in their house every year and the whole neighborhood would show up. You told him what your favorite meals and pastries were, and eventually, he started making them for you without prior notice.

You choked on air as your back hit the ground. Your sword flew out of your hands, landing elsewhere as you coughed and tried to regain your breathing.

Arbor hadn’t even broken a sweat. He stood above you, his body blocking your view of the sun as you stared up at the sky in defeat. He adjusted his grip on his sword and inhaled. “Get up.” He spat, nudging your thigh with his foot. “We’re not done yet. Not until you disarm me. Let’s go. The sooner you disarm me, the sooner we can go inside and have dinner.”

“Are you cooking tonight?” You questioned, your voice hoarse from your dry throat and the lack of oxygen.

He looked away. Uh oh. “It’s Gwen’s turn.”

You whined. Although the girl was an exceptional baker, she couldn’t cook for her life. If she was stranded on a deserted island by herself, she’d surely die within the first day. She was an incredible fighter— you knew that from the one time Arbor invited her to a training session. She disarmed you and had you on the ground begging for mercy before you could even blink. That had been the first and last time you allowed her to join.

(You even considered her a far more ruthless teacher than her brother.)

Even though all she harbored was kindness and love in her heart and a friendly smile was always present on her lips, she sure didn’t play when it came to combat. Her entire personality shifted, and suddenly you were face to face with a seasoned soldier. It was downright horrifying.

With a small groan, you hauled yourself up off the grass and grabbed your sword. Arbor was already in a fighting stance when you turned around. Not giving you the chance to take a breath, he dashed forward with that same grace and elegance he always possessed. Your reflexes— which had improved over the course of two months —acted quickly, and you raised your sword to block the oncoming attack.

Gritting your teeth at the force, you pushed on your blade, attempting to knock him back. He pulled away and for a moment, you thought he was going on the defensive, when suddenly he adjusted his grip, and you knew what that meant.

Swallowing, you readied yourself, despite the dread creeping up your spine. He leapt forward, his movements fast and precise, aiming for each and every weak spot you had. You blocked attack after attack, ducking just in time as he swung towards your head. You swiped at his feet, and he jumped effortlessly over your blade. You knelt and rolled, avoiding his midair attack.

You were too slow to your feet, unable to deflect the next blow as you turned. You were knocked back, slamming right into a nearby boulder. The force from the blow knocked the air from your lungs. You coughed harshly, a wheeze escaping your lips. Your entire back was aching, though it wasn’t nearly as bad as the beating he put you through the day prior during your hand-to-hand combat training.

As usual, there wasn’t a single drop of sweat coating his body. How the hell? Was he some sort of indestructible immortal being?

He approached you, raising his sword once more as you painfully stood. Your shoulders were heaving, and your entire body was coated in a fine layer of sweat. Your hair stuck to your neck and forehead, and you wiped the sweat from your brow with the collar of your shirt.

“Again. That was pitiful. I’ve taught you better.”

Did he have an off button?

With a huff, you ran at him, and he sighed deeply. “This is your problem.”

“What is?” You scowled, beginning to get tired of his attitude.

He aimed for your chest and you jumped back just in time. His frown deepened. “Find it yourself.” He discarded his blade.

“Wha—” You paused for a moment. Big mistake. He hit your jaw, and you stumbled backwards.

“What have I told you? Don’t halt for a second. The drop of a weapon does not equate to surrender. The moment you hesitate is the moment you die.”

You scoffed. “If I die, it’s because you beat me to death!”

“No, if you die, it’s because of your own stupidity!”

He landed a punch right on your cheek, knocking you back once more. You skidded along the grass, dazed. He stood over you with a disappointed frown. “You’re weak still. You hesitate. You don’t channel anger. You fight with no purpose. That is your problem.”

You stared up at him, returning his glare. You couldn’t deny that his words hurt a little, if not a lot. Couldn’t he see you were trying your best? Couldn’t he see that you were putting your all into this training? You never skipped a lesson, and you always took them seriously. You listened when he corrected you and you were taking all of his advice to heart. Because of him, your reflexes and focus had improved, and you were reading your opponent’s movements at a rapid pace.

“Arbor.” A firm, cold voice called.

Both of you looked up to see Gwen standing in the distance, her brows furrowed and her lips drawn into a tight line. She was livid.

“Enough. She’s not like us. She’s not like Mother.” She remarked. “She wasn’t born from wrath. You can’t expect her to be the same when she’s…” she trailed off, her eyes flickering to you before fixing on her brother again. “Stop expecting so much of her. Results will come with time.”

He kept quiet, knowing better than to argue with her when she was so painfully right. With a huff, he made a beeline in her direction, his fists curled and his shoulders tense. She met his fierce expression with a challenging one of her own.

“She will fail if she continues like this,” he muttered bitterly, “she is nothing but a sorry excuse for a student.”

The look in Gwen’s eyes flashed to one of pure rage. She gritted her teeth. “Just because she’s not advancing at the speed you want does not mean she’s weak. Do you not see her trying her hardest to match you!? She’s learning quick for someone so inexperienced. For a mortal—”

You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was clear to you that they were arguing.

“I disarmed Lowen within my tenth training session. It was brief, but I did it. There is no reason she cannot do the same after two months.” He contested. “It doesn’t matter what she is. My teaching has been accelerated this whole time.”

Her eye twitched. “Arbor, you’ll break her if you continue like this—”

“This conversation is over.” He stormed off towards the coastline, ignoring Gwen’s anxious calls of his name.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Gwen questioned after letting out a sigh. “I came out here to let you both know that dinner is ready, anyway.”

You stood from your place on the grass, wincing at the ache that was present in every bone in your body. As you moved, your brows scrunched together, and she smiled apologetically.

“I’m sorry about him… he’s always been like that— hard on people, I mean.” Her gaze was distant as she followed the outline of his form on the coastline. “Our mother was the same way. He picked up more than a few of their habits…”

‘Their’?

Instead of prying, you followed her gaze. “Will he be okay? He seemed pretty angry.”

She scoffed. “He’ll be fine. It’s me that you should worry about,” she told you as she turned to head inside, “as soon as he gets back, I’m giving him a piece of my mind.”

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes lingering on Arbor’s shirtless form in the distance. From what you could see, he was knee deep in the ocean waves, his arms crossed over his chest. From here, you couldn’t make out the expression on his face. His back was somewhat turned to you.

You wondered how he must be feeling. You knew he was impatient and hard on you, but it was only because he wanted you to improve. Did you really meet his standards, though, if you kept failing?

You weren’t a fool. You could tell that his argument with Gwen had been about you and your progress. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, it was clear as day because of the way he had spoken to you before she arrived.

With a long sigh, you followed Gwen into the house.

With a swipe of her sleeve over her sweaty forehead, Gwen sighed heavily. That had been the last of the boxes that needed to be moved.

A man clapped his hands together, wiping off the dust and grime. He turned to Gwen with a grateful smile.

“Thank you so much for your help, Lord Guinevere,” the man said, giving a swift bow, “without your help, we wouldn’t have been able to move all this wood by sunset.”

She shook her head, returning his smile. “It was no trouble. And seriously, Arnold, you don’t have to call me that anymore.” She looked down. “Cairnfelle is gone…”

“Nonsense!” Arnold exclaimed. “Cairnfelle hasn’t fallen yet. You and Arbor are still with us, which means you carry its legacy.”

“I appreciate your loyalty, but…” she trailed off, unable to find the right words. She stared at the ground, unsure of what to say.

This was the first time she had been at a loss for words. What does one even respond to that with, anyway? Cairnfelle was gone. It died with its Queen. The winds had changed.

She took a deep breath and looked up. “A-Anyways— I will always be at your service.” She saluted him. “The Blair family will always be willing to help others, no matter what.”

Arnold nodded curtly, his gaze softening. He ruffled her oak brown hair, causing her to laugh under her breath. “The Blair family has done much for Mondstadt. Our thanks could never equate to the thousands of years of grace you’ve shown us.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Stop getting all formal on me! You know I’ve never done formalities! Also, it’s Gwen. Not Guinevere, and definitely not ‘Lord Guinevere.’”

He laughed, loud and full of mirth. He tipped his hat and nodded. “You got it, Gwen.”

“That’s more like it!” She smiled brightly at him, waving goodbye with a hand raised high above her head. “See ya! Don’t throw your back out while I’m gone!”

The trek back home from Springvale was a lengthy one. The Blair family home was tucked far beneath Starsnatch Cliff, right along the coastline. It was not only a far walk from Springvale, but a far trip from the city as well.

If the land was still intact from before Barbatos’ sudden urge to purge the entire nation of its mountaintops, maybe the original Blair home would still be tucked away in the mountains.

Oftentimes, she found herself missing the comfort and harmony of the mountainous slopes and the chilling, howling winds. They wrapped around the entire kingdom like a safety net, protecting them from the outside world. It was a paradise, a haven for all. A place of peace and prosperity for not only Mondstadtians, but others from around the continent as well.

Instead of going back home like she planned, she took a last minute detour. The sun was fading steadily over the horizon, and making the journey up to the far northern borders would take more than a few days on foot.

This only meant one thing.

She let out a heavy sigh and braced herself for the pain. From her back, hollow bones sprouted, tearing the skin apart. A thin layer of muscle pulled itself over the bone, followed by glistening ivory that danced along the muscle and tapered down, down, down. Brilliant wings stretched high behind her, a burst of feathers filling the air. They fluttered to the ground, only to shoot back up again as she dashed into the sky.

The trip was shorter, thanks to her newfound way of transportation. She stumbled back onto the ground, tripping over her own feet.

It had been such a long time since she had flown like that. It was as if she was a baby bird just learning how to fly.

She caught herself, only to get the wind knocked out of her lungs as a heavy weight collapsed onto her back.

She cried out in pain, her wings still sensitive from just sprouting again after what felt like millennia of being hidden from sight. A groan left her lips as she sat up, gazing behind her only to see a heap of tangled limbs and messy navy hair.

“Lord Barbatos!?”

She didn’t mean for it to come out as a shriek. Quickly pulling him into her arms, she inspected his torn up wings. It was a sorry sight— dried blood coating his feathers and bones sticking out in some places. She winced as she placed him flat on his stomach.

“What happened to you?” She muttered, her brows furrowing as she laid his wings out as far as she could. “This is too much… even for me.”

With this much damage, there was no way she could heal him. It would have to take some sort of miracle. Yet, he was a god. Miracles came naturally to him. With just a snap of his fingers, he could fix this…

Or could he?

What if the damage was irreparable? Would he be cursed to a fate of having clipped wings?

She was already aware of the secrets he harbored and the burdens he carried. First, chained. Then, duty-bound. Now?

…Never to fly again, it seemed.

With a determined huff, she shifted onto her knees and hovered her hands over where feathers met skin. Maybe she couldn’t fix him wholly, but she could very well try her damndest to do something; even if it was as small as clearing the blood and ceasing the pain.

“Hang in there, My Lord.”

An hour passed, and her energy was still intact. She kept up as the sun fully passed over the horizon, replaced with a lone moon shining brightly in the sky.

Another few hours passed. The blood was completely gone now, though she knew that her level of healing could only do so much on a god. It couldn’t heal his broken wings.

At this point, she had no choice but to involve the other divine.

She picked him up, as gently as she could with the little strength she had left after expending her abilities for so long. Carefully, she took him into the abandoned cathedral that still loomed on a cliffside. The ornate roof was long gone, snapped off during the great terraforming process. And yet, that ethereal, sacred feeling of stepping onto holy ground filled her heart and mind.

A familiar power thrummed beneath the marble floors, and a small smile tugged at her lips as it swirled around her, greeting her with a soft breeze.

She carried the broken god up to the altar and laid him down. Pressing a hand over his heart, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her own heart was beating erratically in her chest, threatening to break free from its cage.

With a bowed head, she began the sacred prayer to the North Winds.

“Mögen die Winde deine Erinnerungen streifen und deine Seele durchdringen.

Mögen die Winde dich segnen und dich vom Bösen befreien.

Mögen Wahrheit und Aufrichtigkeit dein Fundament sein. Mögen Vertrauen und Treue dich leiten.

Mögen die Erinnerungen an die Vergangenheit, die Gegenwart und die Zukunft dein Herz sein.

Mögen deine Lippen stets von der Kälte des Nordens berührt werden und deine Zunge von den Feuern der Entschlossenheit entflammt sein.

Mögen die Winde die Seele und ihre Erinnerungen weitertragen, wenn sie gegangen ist, und den Körper von seinem Schmerz und seinem Leid befreien.”

For a moment, nothing happened.

Until…

A burst of blinding aqua light emerged from the altar. A whirlwind followed closely in its stead. The force sent her tumbling back, her back roughly hitting a stone pillar.

She groaned in pain, hearing a small crack erupt from one of her wings. She cursed under her breath and fell forward onto the marble floor. Small stones and tiny pebbles cascaded around her as the ground shook with enough force to topple the entire cathedral.

Then, the light disappeared, and the rumbling stopped. The whipping winds fizzled out into soft, murmuring breezes, and the air went cold with suspense.

A whimper sounded. Her head flew up, and sure enough, Barbatos was waking.

She stumbled to her feet, clutching onto the pillar for support before making a beeline for the altar.

Barbatos sat up, rubbing his temple as his vision slowly cleared. The ringing in his ears ceased, and his breathing evened. He looked up, cerulean eyes gazing up at the endless sea of stars above his head.

Where was he?

He had no time to process as the breath was knocked from his lungs and he was catapulted off the altar and onto the ground below a tall statue just behind it. The two figures tumbled to the ground, their backs hitting the base of the statue and causing it to shake slightly.

He huffed, attempting to catch his breath again. He looked down, only to see the familiar sight of brown and platinum hair. He blinked, his eyes widening in surprise.

How long had it been since he’d last seen her?

She was tightly hugging his middle, her head dug into his chest. It was then he noticed she was holding on for dear life, scared he might disappear from her grasp. Hesitantly, he brought a hand up to rest on her head, and the other to rest around her shoulders.

He laid his head upon hers, smiling as he sighed in content.

“So… You wish to know how to change fate?” Egeria looked down on him in mock disdain. “And why have you come to me for this matter? Why not Buer?”

He chewed his lip.

Egeria, as gentle and adoring as she was at her core, could also be merciless and judgmental like the raging tides of the nation she oversought. Her piercing gaze was enough to send a shiver down his spine.

The reason he hadn’t gone to Rukkhadevata was simply because he wasn’t sure whether she could provide him with an answer. He was positive that none of the Archons would— except for one. One, who’s successor was already thinking of a way to change the fate of all Fontainians.

Maybe, if he could speak with her—

Egeria sighed long and hard, her striking blue eyes boring holes into the pristine blue floor. The air was filled with a tense silence as she pondered over his request.

None have ever changed fate before. The only person who had was a mortal, and even then, they had no knowledge of ever doing so, nor how they did so. Even the gods weren’t aware how someone so insignificant had the power to change their fate around.

She sat up straight, snapping her fingers. One of her oceanid familiars rushed forward, kneeling at the steps leading up to her gold and blue throne. She slammed the end of her trident onto the floor, the sound reverberating off the glass walls.

“Fetch Focalors.”

“Right away, Lady Egeria!”

Egeria leaned forward, beckoning Barbatos closer with a perfectly manicured finger. He slowly walked up the steps until he was face to face with her.

“My Focalors has not changed fate,” she began, “but she has been mulling ideas over on the ocean floor for many years. If anyone could help you, it is her. Or perhaps… you’ve considered someone else?”

She raised a brow, the knowing look in her eyes saying it all. You know someone who deals in fate. Why waste your time here?

He took a deep breath. “Cousin,” he regarded her in confidence, “I seek a trustworthy ally. Someone who will handle this mortal’s fate carefully.”

With an intrigued hum, she stroked her chin. So that’s why he came to her. Not because Rukkhadevata was not in the know, but because the dealer-in-fate he already knew was someone he could not trust as far as he could throw them. Which, as the Anemo Archon, was pretty damn far.

“And you believe my Focalors will be this honest person?”

“Yes.” He uttered without a second thought.

Just then, the oceanid familiar from before came walking in with a stunning figure in tow. Barbatos stared, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open as he met her mismatched eyes. The woman had white hair with blue highlights that reached her calves, and wore a gorgeous mermaid-styled white and navy gown. Gold earrings hung from her ears, and a polite smile tugged at her lips. There was a certain elegance about her that Barbatos had been captivated by. It was an elegance he was all too familiar with.

It was the elegance of an ancient god, though Focalors was anything but an ancient god. She paid him no mind as her careful steps resonated throughout the room. She bowed deeply before Egeria’s throne.

“How may I serve you, Lady Egeria?”

“Rise,” Egeria said gently, motioning for Focalors to come closer.

The oceanid turned human did as she was told and stood next to Barbatos with her hands clasped tightly together in front of her.

"The Anemo Archon seeks an audience with you. Consider yourself lucky to be in the presence of such an esteemed one as himself."

Focalors' eyes widened, and she turned to gaze upon the god standing beside her. Her eyes were calculating as she studied him. It was as if she was trying to ascertain why in the world he had wanted to speak with her, of all people.

He had come just for her? What for?

She had heard of his exploits from Egeria, and he truly was a man worth the devotion and praise. He had done so much for his people, for his friends, and for his nation. Someone like him was comparable to that of a hero; one written about in fables and bards' songs. It was ironic, given the fact that he was the god of music and song.

If the god of freedom, song, wind, and idylls was here for her, she would provide her aid to him in any way she could— but that did not mean she was not without her doubts on his true reasoning for seeking her guidance.

Despite her doubts, she bowed deeply. Above all, he was an Archon— he was above her, just like Lady Egeria. He sputtered, reaching out a hand as if to place it upon her shoulder. He stopped short, his hand lingering in the space between them before it returned to the place at his side.

"Please," he said gently, his voice calm and soothing in her ears, "stand. There is no need for formalities with me."

He smiled softly at her as she met his gaze once more, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. Egeria stood from her throne, her presence demanding all to look at her with reverence and respect. She used her trident to support her weight as she descended the steps. "I shall leave the two of you to your meeting."

She sent them a curt nod. It was Focalors' turn to start sputtering, her jaw falling slack in surprise. She raised her skirts, taking a few steps towards her Archon, when Egeria raised a hand to stop her in her tracks.

"My Lady, you will leave us alone? But that is not—"

With her back turned, Egeria sighed softly. "It is not my business what you speak of in this room. The Anemo Archon is trustworthy. I trust his judgment."

That was that. With a final flick of her wrist, she ushered the other oceanid guards out of the throne room, leaving Focalors and Barbatos alone. It was eerily quiet, save for the sounds of moving water beyond the glass walls. Focalors stared at the heavy prismarine doors her master had left out of, before turning to face the waiting Anemo Archon.

She stepped closer, keeping a reasonable distance between them, and clasped her hands in front of her. She cleared her throat. "H-How may I serve you, Lord Barbatos god of Freedom and esteemed Anemo Archon?"

He let out a chuckle and took a seat on the steps before Egeria's throne. "Come now, no need for all that. I told you before, I'm not one for formalities." Still... she didn't see it right to address him informally considering his standing. "Please, just see me as a friend... Alright?"

She couldn't. He was an Archon— a heavenly divine figure. He was revered throughout the lands. He was beautiful in every sense of the word, and his humanity was what made him truly divine. Despite her high praise of him, she attempted to do as he told her, and nodded. If he requested she see him as a friend, she would fulfill his wishes.

"Alright." She nodded. His smile widened. It was warm and welcoming, calming her nerves in an instant. Her shoulders relaxed somewhat, and she sat next to him. "What may I help you with, then?"

"Egeria told me you've been attempting to turn around the fate of the Fontainian people. I wanted to ask how you plan on doing so."

She certainly wasn't expecting that.

"W-Well, I—" she stopped, unsure. "I'm... not entirely sure at the moment. I need more time. After all, changing fate is a difficult task."

He scoffed. "I'm aware... yet it isn't impossible."

Fate was tricky. He was more than familiar with it, as his own had been tampered with long ago. Although it hadn't been anyone else's fault but his own, he still wasn't sure how it exactly happened. But now... he needed to change it again.

He needed to change not only his, but yours. There was no way he was going to allow you to be subjected to such a horrible fate like the one the Heavenly Principles had given you.

Focalors glanced at him, seeing the far off look in his eyes. She sighed. The secret she had been keeping inside for a while now began to creep its way to the surface, lingering on the tip of her tongue as she opened her mouth. Would she regret telling him? She hoped she wouldn't.

There was something... off about him that made her uneasy, yet she couldn't place what it was. Gods had their secrets. She was well aware of that fact, as she could sense that Egeria had her own. But if those secrets would harm the lives of those around them... were they really worth keeping?

Egeria placed her trust and judgment in the Anemo Archon. That was enough to sway Focalors to speak.

"There… is a way you may be able to change your fate..." she muttered, watching as his eyes lit up with hope, "I've thought about it for many years. I'm not even sure if it's entirely possible, but... to change your fate, you need to bypass the Heavenly Principles, right? Well..."

She trailed off, wringing her hands in her lap. "If you want to bypass them, you would have to deceive them."

The words sat heavy in the air as Barbatos hung onto her every word. Deceive the Heavenly Principles!? That was an impossible task. Changing fate and altering time were tricky enough, but they were plausible. But... deceiving the all-powerful absolute authorities of the world? That was downright impossible, even for a god— for an Archon.

He might as well have given up. This endeavor was futile anyway. Why did he ever think he could achieve defying the Heavenly Principles?

Focalors watched the way his expression contorted into one of surprise, then of horror, and finally defeat.

"I wish there was another way..." she muttered, pulling at the sleeves of her dress. "But there isn't. And I'm determined to see my— no, Lady Egeria's plan —through. Because although it may seem impossible, I believe there's a successful way to go about this task."

Her words weren't getting through to him. She could tell. The look of utter defeat upon his face was heartbreaking. With her brows drawn together, she shuffled closer to him. "Lord Barbatos... it is possible. If there's no way, then I will simply make one. I will not give up hope— because the moment I do is the moment I doom the lives of the people of Fontaine."

That sentence struck a chord within him. She watched as a look of something unnamed flashed in his eyes. Letting out a sigh, she stood up and smoothed out her gown.

"I do not know what it is you are dealing with, nor why you are insistent on changing fate. But... I do know one thing," she paused, meeting his eyes, "we are the same, you and I. We have those we want to protect. And that is more important than lingering on the 'what-ifs' or what is or is not possible in this world. Anything in this world is possible if you have enough willpower. If you have enough hope and determination to see it through."

The room went silent, and she bowed her head in respect before exiting, leaving him alone with the weight of her words lingering in his heart and mind.

The air was thick with tension as you continued flipping restlessly through the pages of your notebook, your heart still beating wildly inside your chest from the argument you had moments ago with your mother.

The effects of her words still loitered in your mind, and unspoken insults still lingered on the tip of your tongue.

Your relationship wasn't one you could call stable by any means. Your mother, as far as you were concerned, was a stranger in your home. Your elder brother, a sprightly and burly man who dedicated his life to the protection of Mondstadt, was who you considered to be your true caretaker.

With your father no longer of this world, your mother had sought to continue the life she threw away before she had gotten married. She continued with her studies at the Sumeru Akademiya when you were a small child, and your brother had been left to care for you in her absence.

But you, unfortunately, were your mother's daughter. That same buzz and thirst for knowledge plagued your heart and soul just as it did her when she was a young girl. The similarities had once been something you cherished— something you held dear. You wanted to be like her. You wanted to study at the most prestigious school in all of Teyvat.

But now...

A bitter taste was left on your tongue from the argument you just had. How had things become this bad? How had everything fallen apart after the death of your father?

You let out a heavy sigh and slammed your notebook closed. The air wafting in from your open window was chilly, revealing it to be a cold and crisp winter night. Letting out a huff, you stood from your desk chair and grabbed your satchel, throwing your notebook and a pen inside before making a beeline for the door.

You had enough of sitting inside mulling over the effects of your dwindling relationship with your mother. Your brother glanced at you as you left the house, flinching slightly at the way you slammed the door closed.

He sighed. You were just like your mother.

You knew it too. And you hated it.

The wintry air of Northern Mondstadt greeted you like an old friend, embracing you in its hold as you allowed your feet to drag you out towards the plains that acted as a border between Northern Mondstadt and the icy ocean neighboring Snezhnaya.

No one could find you out here, not even your brother. It was the perfect getaway from that stuffy, warm house that only served as a cage. Out here, where there were no trees and the winds blew harshly, you could relax. The biting chill was a welcome feeling against your skin that still burned with the rage in your veins.

You spotted the familiar hill in the distance, a small smile pulling at your lips as you headed straight for it. The remnants of an ancient temple stood tall in the silence of the night, alight with an ethereal glow of divinity. You bid a small greeting to the old structure, running your fingers over the cold stone pillars.

This place always felt familiar to you in a way. It was as if— before you discovered it —you had been here before. It felt warm amidst the cold breezes. A soft thrum echoed through your feet and circulated throughout your whole body, calming your mind and rapid heartbeat.

It was a familiar feeling— one you felt every time you set foot in this temple. It only made sense for it to be the lingering effects of divinity left over from the death of an ancient god. Judging by the tenderness of what felt like a caress, you could only assume the god had been a kind and gentle one. It could only be someone warm and welcoming.

A bright, blue light wafted from the center of the main room. The fog around the bud curled around the nearby crevices and enveloped your feet as you got closer. You pulled your notebook from your satchel and sat on the marble floor, flipping open to an empty page and beginning to jot down anything you could on the anomaly before you.

Leyline anomalies had interested you ever since you first stumbled upon this temple a few years ago. Leylines were peculiar things— known for inhabiting many areas around Teyvat and containing the memories of the people who live in those areas.

The memories in this one were odd. They made you feel sorrowful and chained down, as if the person who died here had died with many regrets. It was hard to gather more information other than just feelings. You couldn't see past the haze surrounding the bud of memories, and you couldn't uncover the identities of anyone inside the memories.

You felt lost. You wanted to understand the land— the world around you. You wanted to connect with Mondstadt's history and uncover truths hidden inside the very land you called home.

There was a noticeable gap in Mondstadt's history. Ever since the ancient library burned down over a thousand years ago, the nation had lost most of its original texts and documents. The people themselves began to forget their own history, and the founding of Mondstadt got blurrier by the year. Old traditions still celebrated lost their original meanings, and songs were forgotten along the winds.

The nation had slowly and gradually lost most of their history, customs, and memories with the destruction of a single building. It was catastrophic the way it happened. You weren't alive back then, but the sorrow and anguish you felt for the unfortunate event made it seem like you had been.

It affected you on an unprecedented scale— more than it had anyone else in Mondstadt. It was odd how strongly you felt towards an event that you hadn't even been alive to witness.

Maybe the reason you had been so intrigued in Mondstadt's leylines was because of how connected you felt to events that you weren't there to see.

"It's a little odd, I won't lie," Jean said to you once as you both laid sprawled out under the tree in your front yard. "I mean... don't you think it's weird? I mean, yeah, the burning of that library dealt a huge blow to Mondstadt, but no one really cares today."

You sighed heavily, enjoying the brisk breeze of mid-Spring as you sketched out that ominous temple in your notebook. "You don't have to tell me things I already know," you replied coolly, "I get it's weird. But, I really do feel... connected... to things that happened in the past... as if I was there to witness them in a past life or something."

She glanced at you, propping up an elbow on the grass. "Do you think you're a reincarnation of someone?"

You scoffed. "Nah, not at all. I don't believe in that stuff, anyway."

Jean's blue eyes studied you for a moment. She frowned. "Really? But what if you were like, a hero to Mondstadt or something? What if the reason you feel so connected to our nation is because you're a reincarnation of a prominent figure important to our history?"

"Well, if that's true, then do you think you're a reincarnation of someone too?"

She hummed thoughtfully, laying back onto the grass and staring up at the cloudless blue sky. She smiled. "Maybe. If I am, I want to believe my past incarnation was a wonderful soul— someone who helped Mondstadt in its time of need, just like my ancestors."

You stared at her for a moment, admiring her side profile. A warm feeling bloomed inside your chest the longer you stared, and your heart began to thump against your ribcage as she met your gaze. Her soft expression could turn you to mush.

"And," she continued, sitting up on her elbow once more and leaning over your face with a smirk on her lips, "I'd like to believe we were together in our past lives, too. I don't think I could live without you, after all."

A small giggle left her lips, and you felt your face grow hot. She pecked your lips before settling on the grass next to you again, curling into your side as you both laid in comfortable silence.

It was that very same day that led to your downfall. Her words struck something within you, and a newfound determination surged throughout your body. It was that day you decided to pour your entire life into studying leyline anomalies and their effects on not only the world, but the people of Teyvat as well.

Everything else was shoved aside, left to rot in the back of your mind as you pushed yourself to your limit and worked your life away. You didn't expect your obsession to become the very thing that drove your first love away from you.

Just like your mother.

"This is borderline unhealthy!" Jean cried, shaking your notebook in front of your face. "You're obsessed! Can't you see how this is destroying you!?"

You refused to listen to reason. "I'm doing what you told me! Figuring out if memories really do affect us, and if all of us really are reincarnations of past historical figures!"

She looked at you incredulously. "Are you crazy!? This isn't something to waste your life over! I understand you want to make a historical breakthrough, but it's not worth it if you're losing your sanity along the way!"

You knew she was right. You could feel it. But, at that point, you were too far gone.

"But I'm so close to—"

"You're ruining yourself!" She screamed, tossing your notebook to the side. A few drops of water hit your nose, and soon, it began to rain. "Don't you see!? You're becoming your mother! Isn't that what you always sought to avoid?"

A fiery rage swelled within you at the mention of your mother and you gritted your teeth. You balled your hands into fists. Before you could get an insult out, she sniffled.

"I don't deserve to be cast aside, (Name)." Her voice was shaky as she attempted to keep her emotions in check, only to fail.

"You don't understand how important this research is to me," you muttered bitterly, "it means more to me than my own life. I'm nothing without this. I'm not like you. I don't have a huge life ahead of me— I don't have a duty to Mondstadt. Half my family is gone. I don't have a purpose. But this— this is my purpose. This research is what I've been looking for since my dad died."

She stared at you in disbelief. She scoffed. "Did we mean nothing to you?"

You were silent, unable to answer the question as you were hit with a sudden wave of guilt. Your jaw fell slack as your tongue felt heavy in your mouth. You tried to tell her that yes, she meant everything to you, but the words got caught in your throat.

"You're selfish!" She spat, her words piercing like knives in your heart. "All you care about is yourself. And that idiotic research." Without even so much as a "goodbye," she left.

footnotes. please see this post for the full extensive notes of this chapter!!

#venti #genshin impact #genshin #genshin venti #venti genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin venti x you #genshin venti x reader #venti x you #venti x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #— thus always to tyrants 🪴#—stellaronhvnters.

22 notes · View notes

kateis-cakeis · 1 month ago

Text

I think what really gets me about BBC Merlin's finale, about Arthur's death, is that it's all so perfect. It's what's been foretold, it's what was meant to happen, this story doesn't have a happy ending, it was never meant to.

King Arthur can never live, he can only return. That's the thing.

But how BBC Merlin did it, man, god, it's a masterpiece through and through. To make the final episode all about Merlin and Arthur's relationship, their trust, devotion, and pure love (as it was put in the commentary ;)).... mannnn, it hits, and it hits hard.

The fact the magic reveal was all about the lies for Arthur, about him relearning Merlin only to realise he is who he always thought him to be, is just so perfect.

And the episode wraps it all up, finishing off the loose ends, finishing off Gwaine :P, making Gwen the Queen of Camelot.

And if that scene doesn't make me want to kneel, bow my head, and chant long live the queen sdfhjghsdfg. It's so sad, but it makes me soooooooo, well.

And just all the merthur, all the scenes, they're all so perfect. Every single one of them pulls at my heart, tears at it, leaves it a mess alongside the tears in my eyes.

I love this episode, I love this finale, I love this show, and I'm so glad I get to celebrate another anniversary on this webbed site with you all <333

#bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #what a show what a great episode what a perfect finale #nothing will fucking kill me more in fiction than hey stay with me and the I love you wrapped around a thank you which it's there it's #there you cant convince me otherwise you can hear the v being mouthed i swear on it ssjfdghsdhfg

23 notes · View notes

langfield · 2 months ago

Note

do you think vinh was actually in love with safi? i know he starts doubting that he ever was in chapter 5, but if he wasn’t actually in love what do you think his true feelings for her were? emotional attachment maybe? on safi’s side, i think it’s interesting how even after knowing about vinh’s statement about maya she still decides to hook up with him for a time (only to eventually stop sometime prior to the game?? maybe they had another falling out idk). their relationship in general is just very fascinating to me lmao.

god, the safi-vinh dynamic is certainly one filled with intrigue because of all the intense emotions attached to the people within it ; aimed at each other and also at the bystanders whom haunted around their not so defined relationship. there’s just so much baggage attached to them, you know? mostly painful things and a general sense of betrayal or regret, creating a potion of this general wishy washy bullshit that’s hard to parse through … more so in safi’s case than vinh’s, but i’ll touch upon that later! as for your question about vinh and his true feelings, well.

maybe he was in love with safi once upon a time. maybe the fact he believed that he was in love with her is really all that matters. i suppose it depends on what your definition of romantic love and utter devotion is. it’s undeniable he cared fiercely for safi, enough so to become jealous of max ( safi’s object of obsession ), swear off serious relationships in hope she’d want him back, and to engage in a general meddling within her life to make sure she comes out of situations as unscathed as possible. i mean, he schemes to steal a cow skull and then proceeds to throw it through her windshield in an attempt to save yasmin’s and safi’s relationship … it is very extra of him to do, in fact it’s a literal crime, and the game has both max and safi acknowledge the intensity of said action in episode four. we see the memory of the hedgehog he proudly displays on his desk, the carelessness in which safi treats it, her ‘i’ll buy you another one if it breaks’, and how vinh simpers beneath that offer because he doen’t want a new one, he wants this one, the one safi gave him : a gift that was likely unprompted, some sort of surprise maybe, given to him on a whim and cherished better than any other possession he owns. we also see how he breaks it when she dies. then there’s photos upon photos of safi on his phone and it’s implied he takes pictures after they sleep together and -- that isn’t even touching upon how he practically gives up on himself after her death. the mask drops, he starts trying to branch out and find acting gigs elsewhere, wanting to leave caledon forever, and there’s a sense of raw anger and loneliness he feels when she’s gone. he stops hooking up and pushes everyone away besides max, whom he clings to, and it’s a lot, right? there’s love there. obsession, probably. in many ways he’s still the ‘puppy’ following safi around like gwen said, only without maya this time. he waits and stews and he wants, certainly, for her to love him … but was it purely romantic love? who’s to say!

i think vinh wanted safi as his girlfriend before, maybe when things weren’t so tense, and he still believed that fiercely even when he stopped wanting it. i don’t think he knew where his feelings started to dwindle into something less excited and more resigned, or when he started looking for someone else. his priority remained with safi and with yasmin and thus there wasn’t a lot of time to dissect his heart, a rather vulnerable act he already struggles with anyway. he’s a repressive sort of man. he doesn’t do a lot of introspection because he has an act to maintain, a reputation to follow. but i do believe that by the time double exposure takes place, vinh’s love for safi has indeed shifted because his attraction to max veers on something that isn’t purely sexual. there is an undeniable interest, both in dead and living world, that he’s either embracing or squirming away from … i do not think vinh had many crushes at all when he was in love with safi. i don’t think he allowed himself that luxury, because he didn’t want to move on from her, or put himself off the market in case she wanted him again, in bed or in some profound, loving sense. lots of waiting. lots of surrendering, ‘she’ll come around, we’ll make up’, and hoping despite himself. so his romance with max proves to me that vinh is somewhat right in saying ‘or i thought i was’ when talking about safi and being in love with her, because he was before, but he isn’t exactly in love with her now, if that makes sense? i’d say an emotional attachment is a good title for what they have by the time of the games events.

( i do not wish to diminish vinh’s feelings, but i also think there’s a case to be made that he was rather desperate when he thought himself in love with safi ; there was a lot of insecurity within him back when he was a student, weighed down by the fact he was poor and not your standard run-of-the-mill white man … as an adult he scoffs at his acting abilities and wields his power as head of abraxas with a rather tight fist, as though it’s the only control he’s ever had before. it’s rather clear his only two friends were safi and maya and that vinh hasn’t had any since them -- was desperate to stay on their heels despite the fact he was never really apart of whatever they had. it’s not a stretch to speculate that vinh was, perhaps, a cocktail mix of loneliness and desperation rather than strictly in love with safi. maybe confused his all-consuming need to be around her as desire, or maybe just enjoyed feeling wanted by safi enough to mix his wires. after all, why was it safi he was in love with and not maya? vinh also uses sex as a means of coping, as seen by his rather active sex life in game via hookup apps and reggie, so maybe his sex with safi was just that. coping. in it’s own way. regardless, he did love her, or so he thinks so, and to me i think that’s enough, speculation aside )

safiya’s side of things is much more difficult than vinh’s, who is more obvious about his feelings towards her than he thinks he is. there are some brief contradictions, like how it’s stated that safi doesn’t care for vinh ( which is true ) and yet she also acknowledges that when she split apart and lost herself, all that was left of her was moses, lucas, gwen, and vinh. we know that moses and gwen matter to safi, or mattered, and that at one point safi might’ve admired lucas … so where does that leave vinh? if she doesn’t hate him like gwen or lucas now, and if she doesn’t cherish him like moses or max, why is he still apart of her? what does that mean? is it just a metaphor for their times with maya, and how safi will always be connected to that past with vinh because of her love for the caledon’s personal dead girl? was her sleeping with vinh about maya too? or did she actually care for vinh once, albeit weakly and casually, and did that fleeting moment of affection count when she vanished into everyone who’s ever thoroughly affected her life? and, as you said, it’s so fascinating that she hooks up with vinh at all post maya death … it feels strange and odd and unlike her. even in their intimate picture together after fooling around she is nothing but angry, disinterested, her underwear and bra are already back on ( if they were ever off at all? ) and while that’s on account of safi just hating photos, i also think it’s a testament to how irritable she finds vinh’s presence when stuck in it. it’s not a happy photo really, even vinh’s expression is a little red-eyed, forced, like he was likely wasted the night prior. i wouldn’t be surprised if safi was only able to be with vinh if she was … you know … literally out of her mind drunk or high or what have you.

though, that’s just speculation of course. my vague take on things is that safi went to vinh whenever she was partied out or if she was feeling particularly destructive that day ; choked with self loathing over her mom or maya and so sex with vinh was a means for her to feel even worse. some sort of self harm, some sort of outlet where she could be particularly cruel and evil without consequence, because vinh would take it and roll over -- could even be her way of controlling things too, like vinh with abraxas, because we know vinh has no issues with being led around in the bedroom, so that’s some food for thought. i don’t think she thinks about it after or remembers it much … she really doesn’t think about vinh unless it suits her or if she needs to. i always notice how, in episode four, safiya immediately knows what max is talking about when she asks if safi’s ever transformed into amanda, gwen, or lucas. she owns up immediately, confesses, and understands intimately what situation max is referring to. but when max asks about vinh and the phone, there is a brief moment where safi just stares blankly at her -- like she’s thinking about it, like she doesn’t even remember, before it finally clicks after a beat. either she wears vinh’s metaphorical skin a lot ( which, to be fair, she does pretend to be vinh a lot in game ) or she literally thinks of him so little she’ll forget everything about him in minutes. both are likely! she doesn’t even recall what type of alcohol he likes, calling it bougie japanese brandy ‘or whatever’ … and can’t be assed to remember his phone’s pin number exactly, only vague details about a magician scientist that she clearly thought was boring and lame when vinh told her said story, if her hostility and complete forgetfulness is anything to go by. for me, it’s easy to get caught up in a ‘safi did care! she had to!’ angle about vinh, although the game repeatedly shows you over and over again that she does not. she doesn’t even care that max kissed him really, if anything, she’s more jealous of vinh being with max given some of her remarks :

( i know, technically, safi’s ‘come again?’ is more nervous than jealous per se … but there is a certain air to it, especially given the ‘i can be your new boyfriend’ comment as seen above lol. if she loves max and doesn’t care for vinh, i can only imagine how she’d feel about their romance in particular! )

and, of course, there’s that part in episode four where safi can disguise herself as vinh in order to tear lucas a new one. i enjoy that part for many reasons! seeing how safi feels so much more comfortable in someone else’s skin than her own is fascinating and makes for good foreshadowing … but there is also the reveal of her opinions on vinh, unabashed and shameless, when she is finally giving him an ounce of thought :

it’s interesting! she doesn’t care for him, really, doesn’t loathe him like lucas or gwen or her own mother, but there’s a level of vitriol regardless. she thinks him fake. she thinks him a coward. she thinks he’s scared of facing consequences and that he only acts in his own self interest and she hates every bit of that. while safi can confess to doing maya wrong and hating herself for it, she never allows vinh that same courtesy. even says as much to max, claiming that only she had the humanity to regret her choice while vinh apparently didn’t. and yet … she doesn’t hate him? doesn’t feel strongly towards him? he’s still apart of her, a large part, and she can get along with him fine on crosstalk if she so pleases and she can hate his guts but, when the raw truth is revealed, she apparently feels nothing towards him at all? it is fascinating to think about is all. how she doesn’t wish him dead but doesn’t care if he’s alive either despite everything they’ve been through, even though she hates gwen and lucas and her mother more. it’s rather mean, though that’s what makes it so complex and interesting. it shows that safi only ever cares ( and oh, does she care fiercely, obsessively ) for a very slim group of people, and that when push comes to shove, everyone else can fend for themselves for all she cares. she would protect moses and max in a heartbeat, without thought, and the piece of her within them tries valiantly to keep them safe by locking them away from the world ( another thing to dissect, certainly! ), but she doesn’t really extend such empathy towards the innocents caught in her crossfire. she may be tormenting lucas and gwen specifically, but everyone else was going to be collateral damage and safi was fine with that. at least a little bit. vinh falls in that category of inevitable damage, i think, despite their closeness and despite their history, and you can tell that’s what really wounds him at the end of things. safi couldn’t even torment him, didn’t have the want or energy to do so, he was valiantly apart of her and safi didn’t even care about that. very interesting! it’s also heartbreaking in many ways to see two people who should’ve been able to lean on each other, who should’ve loved one another, be nothing but strangers at the end of things. an example of how tragedy doesn’t always bring people closer. sometimes it drives you worlds apart from the one you should be grieving with, which can be seen in other life is strange games, most notably with chloe and joyce, i think.

anyway! tldr : it’s complicated and worth exploring. there are many ways you can interpret their relationship and i highly encourage everyone to find what angle is most interesting to them! and i don’t blame you for finding their dynamic fascinating because it’s easily one of my favorites in double exposure … i don’t think of it often, but it’s always lingering in the back of my mind. regardless, i hope this word vomit is helpful! if i brought up more questions than answers, i do apologize. but thank you so much for such a fun question <3 it was an absolute blast, and tickled my brain enough to pump this out asap.

#my asks.#life is strange double exposure #vinh lang #safiya llewellyn fayyad #ohhhh these two. THESE TWO!!!! i genuinely have no clue what’s going on with them #but there’s a palpable sense of pain no matter how you swing their dynamic and i love it #lots of yearning and dismissal and an ache you know? hate. betrayal. love. obsession …#you could name the feelings between them but putting an actual label on things is what’s most difficult #which. ironically. fits their relationship in its entirety haha #many thoughts and feelings — i just hope this captures even a sliver of them anon!!!#i will also say i tentatively think safi and vinh slept together before maya’s death at LEAST one time #because that makes sense as to why safi would be more inclined to do it again. even after #i also think she stopped after max came into the picture. as vinh words it ‘she was obsessed’ with max #and never stopped talking about her … so i think she stopped with vinh entirely. she’s so far up max’s ass she stops having time for him #or something like that. lol #ANYWAY! i do think vinh loved safi and i do think four years ago safi at least cared for vinh #but she certainly doesn’t anymore. and though he’ll always love her i don’t think it’s romantic anymore either #that’s my take!!! as bland as can be!!!!#thank you sm again !!!

16 notes · View notes

drainsdorm · 1 year ago

Text

the realization that you’ve fallen out of love is brutal, bittersweet at times, but brutal. merlin didn’t mean to fall out of love with arthur, it was in no way an active decision but rather a subconscious defense mechanism, a barrier to protect his overly generous heart. merlin was well aware that they couldn’t maintain what they had in its delicate secrecy forever, yet he willingly drowned himself in arthur’s affections anyway, even if it only made it excruciatingly more difficult to call it quits when the time inevitably came.

the night before the wedding, merlin shut the door behind him as he entered arthur’s chambers, standing before the king who sat pensively by the fireplace.

“if you are to remain on this path and devote yourself to another, i don’t think that we, or i, can continue,” merlin spoke in one breath, the anxiety of this dreaded conversation getting to him.

“we can’t or you don’t want to?” arthur asked without sparing a single glance.

“both.”

“both?”

“i apologize but i cannot bear to indefinitely be a skeleton in your closet.”

“merlin, that isn’t what’s happening at all.”

“tell people about us then.”

“you know i can’t-“

“then at least you’ll have gwen to love you dearly.”

“are you implying that i am soon to lose your love?” arthur finally locked eyes with merlin, a steel gaze that would be nearly impossible to pry away from.

“i’m afraid it’s already been lost.”

the silence that followed was unbearable, it ate away at each man’s heart like piranhas to a slab of meat. arthur had already averted his now glossy eyes, staring into the fireplace where no fire burned, just the desolate grimness of darkened wood and scattered ashes. merlin gnawed at the inside of his cheeks to compose himself. knowing well that he couldn’t, he began to make his quiet exit, pausing in the middle of the doorway for a few moments, softly remarking, “it isn’t your fault,” and he was gone.

merlin did the right thing in his mind, but selfishly, he wished that arthur would come banging on his door to tell him the wedding was off, that he was ready to devote himself entirely, that tradition no longer shackled him into a predetermined life. perhaps it was just a case of right person wrong time, maybe merlin would just have to endure arthur’s inevitable death and inevitable return, praying that by then, it would be the right time for them.

#merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur #merlin x arthur #merthur fanfic #merthur angst #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #king arthur #arthur x merlin

114 notes · View notes

reysdriver · 2 years ago

Text

Origins | P.P.

After an incident at Oscorp, your academic rival Peter Parker calls you for help with the sticky situation he's found himself in — peter x gn!reader fluff

warnings: spiders/spider bites (but if you can't handle that then what are you doing here lmao?)

words: 1.9k

On an internship orientation at Oscorp, you only knew one other person in the group. Granted, you weren't the most popular person in your school and there were only 6 other students in the program, but you figured you would recognize at least a few others.

Standing next to you as your group toured the laboratory was the boy tied with you for top student in your grade at Midtown High, Peter Parker.

Of course he got the internship, you thought.

Though your longtime academic rival was in the same program as you, you promised yourself you would not do anything to lose this opportunity. If you wanted a career in science, and you did, you would devote everything of yours to this internship.

At exactly 8 o'clock, exactly on time, a blonde woman in a lab coat approached the tour group and introduced herself.

"Hello. My name is Gwen Stacy, and I'll be giving you interns a tour around the Oscorp building."

She looked young, maybe in her early twenties. Her age gave you a bit of hope that young people could get into the science industry.

Your eyes started to wander while Gwen was talking about the history of Oscorp and you looked over at Peter Parker. He was looking at Gwen, but he had a particular gleam in his eye, a look of adoration. It was funny. Peter had a crush on a twentysomething giving them a tour of Oscorp's labs.

Whatever, maybe if Peter was off his game because of a crush, you could prove yourself as the best and brightest intern in the group.

Gwen continued her lecture as your group started making your way into the actual lab instead of the lobby where your tour started. "And again, I apologize for making you all get here at 8 on a Saturday morning, but hey, that's the life of a scientist."

The group let out a small collective chuckle, but Peter laughed just a little too hard at her joke.

She thanked the group for the laughter, said you were a great crowd, and continued to lead the group into one of the laboratories.

"This is one of our biology labs, biomedical, actually." She said, swiping her work ID card and inputting a code into a keypad on the door, leading you all into a white room full of computers and terrariums.

All the interns looked around the lab in astonishment. All of you with the same exact thoughts running through your head.

After a second of letting you take it all in, Gwen continued her introduction of that particular lab.

"Right now, this division is working on using properties of animals to use in medicine." She explained. "Over there is our reptile chamber, where we have lizards and geckos at the moment. And right next to you all is our spider terrarium."

She paused again so the group could take another look around, and you raised your hand to ask Gwen a question.

"Yes, (y/n)." She said, noting your name tag.

"Is it true that you're using gamma radiation on those spiders to make them radioactive or is that just a rumor?" You asked, pointing at the terrarium as you spoke.

"That's exactly what we're doing." Gwen confirmed. "Both radiation and animals are, or have been, used in many different medicinal practices, so our biomedical scientists are working on combining the two."

You nodded, and noticed that some of the other group members looked confused, as if they were trying to think of a question to ask as well.

"I love the curiosity, (y/l/n). I can tell that you've done your research. You seem like you'll be a great fit here at Oscorp." Gwen smiled.

She continued to explain the other experiments being conducted at the moment in that department, and your eyes started to wander over to Peter again. He swatted the back of his neck, like he had felt something back there. He winced as if he was pinched, but in a second or two, returned his focus to the tour.

_____

The next day, you hear your phone buzz from across the bed while you were doing your physics homework.

Who would be trying to contact you right now?

Your first thought was that it was another student from one of your classes asking for last minute homework help.

No, you disregarded the idea, It's not even noon yet. It wasn't last minute enough.

After several more notification vibrations, you decide to see who it was and what they wanted. As you leaned over and reached for the phone, you noticed the notifications becoming closer and closer together, as if the messages were becoming more urgent.

A look of confusion washed over your face as you read the contact at the top of the messages.

"Peter Parker?" You said, accidentally out loud.

What does Peter need so urgently?

You scan the messages, seeing him rambling vague details about Oscorp and the biomed lab. Before you could read any more or even process anything you had just read, an incoming call screen appeared over the messages.

Confused and reluctant, you hesitate to answer the call. After a tiny pause, you accept the phone call and hear Peter's continued fast-paced and disorienting rambling.

"(y/n), oh my god, something really weird happened to me last night and I don't know what to do! I think it's because of the Oscorp tour yesterday but I don't know how it could happen to me. I don't want to say anything else over the phone, I just need you to come see this in person."

"Peter, what are you talking about?" You asked, completely flustered by his rambling.

"I can't explain, I would just have to show you."

You paused for an extended second.

What is going on right now?

"Please, (y/n), I need your help." Peter pleaded.

"Okay." You sighed. "I'll come over and see what you're freaking out about."

"Thank you, (y/n)." He said. "Okay, I'll see you in a minute. Wait, you need my address!"

"No, I don't. I've been over to your apartment to do schoolwork before. You still live with your aunt, right?"

"Yeah." He replied.

"Okay, I'll be right over."

You hung up the phone, and gathered up your homework in a neat pile so nothing would be damaged. Then, you grabbed your backpack with your wallet and keys, and left your apartment, heading to Peter's place.

_____

When you got to Peter's apartment, you stood in the brown hallway and knocked on his front door. His aunt quickly opened the door. She recognized you, which you didn't expect.

"Hey, (y/n), right?" She greeted.

You nodded, and she let you inside.

"Are you here to see Peter?" She asked. She didn't seem to know about whatever was going on with Peter that was freaking him out so much, so you didn't say anything about it.

"Um, yeah. It's a school thing we have to do." You told her, slightly turning to the side to display your backpack.

"Oh, alright, no problem. He's in his room right now." She smiled warmly.

She called out for Peter, alerting him that you were here, and he told her to let you in. Then, she led you over to Peter's bedroom, and you knocked on his door, telling him it was just you. He unlocked his bedroom door, and anxiously urged you to come inside . You walked in, and he quickly shut the door behind you both, likely alerting suspicion in Peter's aunt.

"What is going on?" You asked in a whisper-yell.

"I don't know how to explain it, but..." He paused, trying to think of a way to describe his situation. "I just woke up and I'm sticky now."

You cringed, making a disgusted face and trying to avoid making eye contact with him.

"Peter." You sighed. "Didn't you learn about this in the fifth grade? It's completely natural, but-"

He cut you off, realizing he had said the wrong thing and made you think of something completely different than what he meant.

"No, no, ew, (y/n)!" He defended. "No, I mean I woke up super strong, and then everything started to get weird when I..." He paused and walked past you to grab something off of his bed. He picked up a metal water bottle by his bed and threw it, but it didn't leave his hand. "And I'm sticky. Things just keep sticking onto me."

"Alright, yeah." You rolled your eyes, not believing anything Peter was saying. "You're just holding it."

"No, I'm serious. Look."

He tries to throw the water bottle a few more times, aiming towards the wall. On the third or fourth attempt, the water bottle shot from his arm, through the screen of his window, looking like it made it at least five or six buildings away without hitting the ground.

From another room, Peter's aunt heard the noise and asked what it was.

"It's nothing, May! We're fine!" Peter shouted back.

"How did you do that?" You ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I don't know!" He said loudly, then lowered his voice so as to not draw any more suspicion from his aunt in the other room. "That's the point!"

He walked past you again, making his way over to his desk, and pulling a glass over a piece of paper sitting there. Underneath the glass was something small that you couldn't identify.

"And then, after I accidentally punched myself in the face trying to brush my teeth this morning, I noticed this inside my shirt from yesterday." He said, pointing to the object on the paper slip.

You inspected it closer, now being able to identify it as one of the spiders from the biomed lab yesterday. The reason Peter smacked his neck on the tour.

"Oh god, Parker. Don't tell me you actually let an experiment bite you on the neck yesterday." You said.

"I did. Accidentally. And now I need your help because I don't know what it's doing to me."

You started laughing. At first it became a small chuckle, then it developed into close to a laughing fit.

"It's not funny, (y/l/n)!"

"Oh, it's absolutely funny. You're an imbecile, and now you're going to lose the Oscorp internship for it if they find out. Plus, you're becoming some spider-man hybrid thing. Don't be surprised when you wake up tomorrow with four extra limbs!"

"You don't actually think that's going to happen, right?" He asked, a large amount of concern in his voice.

"Oh, I definitely think they'd kick you out of the internship for that." You said, your laugh silencing.

"But the limb part?!"

"If you were listening to Gwen yesterday instead of sniffing her hair the whole time or whatever that was, you would know that yes, those spiders are experimental, they're radioactive. But they're being made for sick people, so that they can regain their strength, sharpness, and all abilities."

"So?" He asked.

"So, you'll be fine. Likely."

His eyes widened in shock at the last part, not realizing that you were kidding.

"I'm joking, Parker." You told him. "It'll actually probably just make you cooler. You could be a jock for the first time in your life."

#peter parker #tasm #tasm peter #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter one shot #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #spiderman #tasm!peter parker fluff

193 notes · View notes

laismoura-art · 1 year ago

Text

Heya, folks! Look what the tide brought! It's ma girl!

☆☆☆☆SCORPION!HARUMI☆☆☆☆

Click to see all the details and extra info!

If you just got here, this is Harumi Hasashi in her Spider Gwen Era!

This is a reality where Harumi became the Scorpion of the Shirai Ryu!

I wrote an entire backstory for her and had lots of fun brainstorming with my gal @mikka-minns, and you can find it all right here (I recommend you read the reblogs too 👀)!

And as I was specially inspired, I also made a second design! May I introduce you to:

☆☆☆☆Sub-Zero!Lisa Liang☆☆☆☆

She was Minnie's idea!

Lisa Liang is the forgotten Sub-Zero Sibling, but here she has a special role being Harumi's main Sub-Zero rival and love interest!

Lisa's personally is quite similar to Kuai Liang in Battle of the Realms. She is driven by her emotions, devoted, dedicated and extremely stubborn!

But her tough exterior hides a bold and gentle heart! She is extremely caring of her family and those she consider friends and allies. Never dare to cause harm to her loved ones, you do not wish to be on the receiving end of her wrath!

Much like her older brother, Bi-Han, Lisa has gathered countless enemies, to which would prove to be too much for a single warrior, luckily for the Cryomancer, she is not alone, for her guardian, her Scorpion, her lover, Harumi Hasashi, dutifully and loyally fights alongside her in every battle!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You met the Girlfriends! Now allow me to introduce you to some other members of this AU!

KUAI LIANG:

Youngest of the Sub-Zero Siblings! Being 9 years younger than Bi-Han and 3 minutes younger than Lisa, Kuai had to learn form a young age how to stand his ground so he wouldn't be bossed around by their own siblings!

Naturally born leader and wise beyond his age. He and Lisa lead the Lin Kuei to a new era of prosperity as defenders of Earthrealm!

Kuai was the first to reach out and seek to make peace with Harumi, once she had proven deserving of his forgiveness.

As he was also under the Scorpion's protection, he had spent plenty of time with her, and they soon became close friends, they would confide to each other from the most mundane to the deepest secrets.

He was the first Harumi confided her love for Lisa. And he was also the first Lisa confided her love for Harumi.

He told both the same thing: Well, wasn't that obvious?

BI-HAN (AND SAREENA)

The oldest of the Sub-Zero Siblings, Bi-Han is known to be ruthless, cruel and merciless to all his enemies!

And though he lives up to his reputation, few know that he is not beyond merciful acts, "never women and children" is his one rule!

And even after he was swallowed by darkness and driven to madness under Quan Chi's spells, this one rule remained.

With one solemn exception: His murderer, the Scorpion of the Shirai Ryu.

For years, he sought revenge. And he would fight anyone who dared to stand in his way, even his own twin siblings.

He felt betrayed the first time they fought. Betrayed, heartbroken, confused and extremely angry! He could not comprehend why his own siblings would chose this Shirai Ryu, his killer, over him!

He would keep fighting them for years, each time more aggressively, more heartbroken, till one day his sister stood bravely between him and his prey, "If you want her, you will have to kill me first" she told him. And as much as he hated his siblings at that moment, he could never hurt them.

He disappeared after that fight, back to Netherrealm. He could not comprehend, couldn't fathom why his sister would ever put her life in such a risk for some Scorpion!

He stayed in hell for the years to come, but not alone. He had made himself a friend, a demon called Sareena. She was nice to him, and dreamed with a life if freedom, out of Netherrealm.

He liked to hear her escape plans, and after some time, he even started to come up with some plans of his own and brainstorm with her. Till one day, they managed to escape!

Sareena was happy, she bounced and giggled happily, regarding her new surroundings in awe.

Bi-Han loved that sight of her. He loved her. And he would never let anything or anyone hurt her!

And it hit him.

Why his sister would not let him hurt that stupid little Scorpion.

Bi-Han never apologised to Harumi for trying to kill her. He never even apologised to his own siblings. He never felt he truly owed them an apology.

But he did tell them he would not let any harm come to them. To any of them.

Kuai, always the diplomat, invited him and Sareena to join them for lunch someday.

"We will see..." was his only response, "we will see..."

HANZO HASASHI

Harumi has met Hanzo twice in her life.

First time she met him, was when they were kids. He came to her village one day, and requested the Grandmaster himself to give him a home to live and in exchange he would train to become the greatest of all warriors!

It was a bold request for such a small child, but Harumi never doubted him, much due to her own ambitions being quite similar, if not the same as his!

Harumi, dreamed of being Scorpion!

It did not take long before the two of them started to get along! They would play together and when the time came, they started to train together!

They had a pact, the two of them: "We will help each other become the best warriors of the clan! And whoever becomes Scorpion names the other as their second in command!"

One pact they dutifully kept! Harumi was named Scorpion and she took Hanzo as her Second in Command, and in that same day, she also took him as her husband.

Harumi loved Hanzo deeply. And together they build a home for themselves and their son. They were her world.

But that world was brutally taken from her. Hanzo was taken from her. And from that day on, she would never be the same.

The second time she met Hanzo he was not quite her Hanzo.

He was from another reality, one in which he was named Scorpion and she was his Second in Command. She was also his wife, mother of his son, his world. World that was also brutally taken from him.

He was not exactly like her Hanzo, even if subtly, she could tell he was his own person, but happily, he was a person she grew to adore!

He was lovely, with the biggest of all heats. She could tell his Harumi was loved by him.

Their meeting was quite a necessary event, things buried deeply in their hearts finally found their say out and a feeling of peace hovered above them.

Closure was found. And with it, a newly found need to move on!

They were quite similar, this Hanzo and Harumi. There was much about their lives they shared, good and bad.

But it was when he confided his love not for her but for his world's Kuai Liang that she realised another similarity:

That Scorpion is bound to fall in love with Sub-Zero.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Oh Hey! You made it!!! How you liking this AU so far?

Have any ideas? Questions? Suggestions? Please share them all! I would love to make this AU grow!!

@mikka-minns, my darling! Again, thank you for the ideas! I hope you are enjoying this AU specially! Lysm💛🩷💛🩷💛🩷

Also, please, have some icons!💛💙

112 notes · View notes

tightjeansjavi · 2 years ago

Text

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ : Part 10

“Safe & Sound”

Joel Miller x f!o/c

A/N: whew! What a journey this has been thus far. If a man ever treated me as well as Joel treats Gwen? Lord have mercy, I would fold so fucking fast. You’ll be in tears by the end. He’s so sweet to her, and your teeth will start aching. P.S. if you ever wanna write the softest, yet most toe curling smut in your life, just listen to ‘Roslyn’ by Bon Iver on mf repeat.

Summary: 2 weeks has passed since the night you were stabbed by one of Robert’s henchmen. Joel has refused to leave your side as you rest. He’s hopelessly devoted to you. He would do anything, kill anyone, just to see your eyes again.

~word count : 6.5k~

Warnings: implied age gap, established relationship, angst, trauma, brief mentions of PTSD. descriptions of a stab wound healing, hurt, comfort, overwhelming emotions, swearing, underlying possession, mentions of death, fluff, soft!Joel, protective!joel, feelings of guilt, consent, consent, consent, smut, mentions of fingering, teasing, edging, nipple play, praise kink, nicknames, unprotected p in v (wrap it kids) cock warming, after care, joel taking care of you the entire chapter pretty much about sums it all up. (+18) minors dni !

Songs for this chapter:

“Safe & Sound” by Taylor Swift/The Civil Wars

“Roslyn” by Bon Iver/Saint Vincent

“On the Nature of Daylight” by Max Richter

“Here With Me” by d4vd

“I Can’t Go on Without You” by KALEO

“Shelter” by Dorothy

“To Be Alone” by Hozier

“Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” by Engelbert Humperdinck

“Work Song” by Hozier

“Long Long Time” by Linda Ronstadt

“Kiss Me” by Ed Sheeran

April 2021 : Boston QZ

**Gwendolyn Gwen Brooks POV**

**flashback 1 week prior**

The last thing you could remember through your state of deliria was Joel’s voice, pleading with you to open your eyes. “Baby, baby. Hey, baby. Open your eyes dammit, please. Your eyes are so beautiful, Gwen. Please let me see them again.” He stroked your cheekbones gently, tears running down his face. “We’re gonna fix you right up. Gonna stop the bleeding and stitch you up, okay?” He had kissed you then, for the first time. He kissed you with tears wetting his cheeks, leaving salty streaks in their wake. He could taste the blood on your lips from the gash on your head, but he kissed you as if he could breathe life back into you from his lips alone.

His voice sounded fuzzy from the ringing in your ears. Everything around you sounded so far away as you were fighting to stay alive. You weren’t ready to go just yet. The world may have gone to shit, but you still wanted to fucking live. You swore in your last conscious moments, Joel Miller had kissed you.

He kissed you.

He kissed YOU.

You could taste the salty sweat mixed with his tears on his lips. The desperation seeping from his soul as he kissed you. Then, it all went black.

***end of flashback***

There were three times in your 28 years of life where you feared dying. The first was when your parents had gotten infected. 8 years ago, you lived with your immediate and extended family on your uncle’s horse ranch in Northern Michigan. Each year, more of your family was picked off, till it was down to the bare bones. Your parents hadn’t meant to get infected. No one really ever does. They just were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. What hurt the most as you remembered, was the fact that they hid that they had gotten bit. They were too ashamed, too afraid to tell their only daughter that their end was near. You could still remember the sound of their snarls, the dead look in their eyes. The sudden flip of the switch and your mom and dad were attacking you. You pleaded with them to stop. You didn’t want to kill them, but what choice did you have? It was either you, or them. You were the last surviving member of the Brooks family, and you were on the run.

The second time you feared death was getting caught up with some raiders. The group you had formed for the past few years had gotten split up and you were once again, alone and vulnerable. You knew you couldn’t take on a group of men on your own, so you did what you did best, you ran like hell. Right into Joel and Tess. You remembered the fear in your eyes, the adrenaline pumping in your veins as you threw the knife at his face. You had no time to figure out in those moments if these strangers were friends or fo. You were gonna continue to do whatever it took to survive.

The third time you feared death was when James stabbed you back at the abandoned QZ bookstore. The feeling of the blade piercing your gut, the air being knocked out of your lungs. Your anguished cries as you fell back, clutching your wound. Seeing stars behind your eyes from the pain. You could hear Joel’s screams, you could feel his heart pounding against his chest as he lifted you into his arms. His voice pleading with you. This by far, was the moment you feared death the most. You couldn’t run, you couldn’t hide and you were all out of ideas. Joel. Your fellow, your guy, didn’t deserve to deal with you dying in his arms. Despite the odds being stacked against you, you were gonna fight like hell.

______________________

You slept for a week straight. From the blood loss alone, your body was too weak and it needed its rest if you were going to fully recover. Joel was absolutely reluctant to leave your side. In fact, nothing was going to make him budge. Nearly losing you, had psychologically fucked with him. He had gone as far to sleep on the floor, next to the couch where you were resting. He held your hand in his and refused to let go, even when his arm ached and he lost feeling in it. By day 3, Tess had to physically force him to go and shower and change his clothes. He fought her on it in the beginning, but from his own lack of sleep and pure exhaustion, he gave in eventually. His much needed shower lasted all of five minutes. He didn’t care that the water was cold, or that he had gotten a bit of expired soap in his eyes. No, all that mattered was getting back to you on the couch.

Tess had sat beside you then while Joel was showering. She had checked how your wound was healing. Gently lifting your shirt up, she assessed the damage. She was looking for any signs that your wound could be infected and just as she was reaching for the bottle of Penicillin, Joel was coming down the hall, his hair dripping wet and he had a fresh shirt on, his eyes locked on the couch. His footsteps were heavy and fast as he approached and sank down on the end of the coffee table. He reached for your hand then, grabbing it gently in his larger one as he interlocked his fingers with yours. He’d be losing his mind right now if he couldn’t feel the warmth of your palm around his.

“How’s she doin?” He rasped, voice thick with exhaustion and lack of sleep.

“She’s hanging in there. Not out of the woods yet, and I'm still concerned that she’s gonna get an infection, Joel.”

He nodded then, giving your hand a squeeze as he brought it up to his lips, lightly brushing a soft kiss to your knuckles. His eyes focused on your peaceful face. With his free hand, he leaned over the couch, bringing two fingers against the spot where your jaw meets your neck so he could feel your pulse. It was there, but still faint. He retracted his hand then before his eyes zoned in on your wound. He had made sure to change the bandages over the stitches every few hours. He was extremely careful and gentle as he cleaned around the wound. What upset him this morning was seeing the evident blooming bruises scattered about your body. Bruises from James sending the heel of his boot into your gut. He took a deep breath then, exhaling out of his nose as he cleared those thoughts from his mind. He gently pulled your shirt back down over the exposed skin, bringing his free hand up to rub it against his face. It was killing him inside that you weren’t awake yet. He truly had no idea how long till your body would regain its strength again. He’d do anything, kill anyone, just to see your eyes, hear your voice, your laugh–

“Joel?” Tess spoke when he didn’t respond to her immediately. She could tell he was in some deep thoughts.

He blinked a few times, lifting his head up to look at her then.

“I heard you. Just, processing is all. Go ahead and give her some more of that. She’s breathin alright. That’s a good sign, right?”

Tess didn’t want to give him any false hope. If they had the proper tools, if hospitals still existed. Then sure, she’d be comfortable telling him that your chance of survival was pretty damn high. However, with these circumstances, she couldn’t sit there and lie to him and say that you would probably be okay. Especially when she wasn’t so sure of your survival either.

She looked over at him then, taking in the permanent frown etched between his brows. How dull his eyes looked. His lips were severely cracked, bleeding in some areas of the delicate skin. She expected he probably had picked at them till they bled as a distraction. To put it simply, the man looked miserable.

“Yeah, it's a good sign that she’s breathing Joel. We can’t get our hopes up right away, we don’t know if she’s going to–”

He cut her off then, his jaw clenching and unclenching. You were not going to die.

“No, Tess. Don’t say another word. Her body is just restin. She’s gonna be fine. Don’t you dare go speakin like that.”

She reached over to him then, gently squeezing his knee before she grabbed the bottle of penicillin beside him and extracted the liquid through the needle. She injected it in the same section of your arm that he had. Once the medicine was administered, she set the vial and needle back down beside him.

“You should really think about maybe getting out of the apartment for a few hours Joel. I can stay here with her and watch over her. You haven’t seen the sun in days, and it really might do you some good.”

He shook his head immediately. There was no way in fucking hell that he was going to leave your side for more than 5 minutes. He gave into finally taking a shower, but leaving the apartment, leaving you like this was not an option in his mind.

“No. I ain’t leavin her side Tess. Don’t ask me again, please.”

She let out a sigh then. Knowing that he wasn’t going to budge anytime soon.

“Alright, fine. It was just a suggestion. Just thought y’know it maybe would do you some good.” She got up from the couch then, grabbing her worn backpack off the chair in the kitchen.

“The only thing that’s gonna be doin me any good is staying here, by her side Tess. If I leave, even just for a bit, I can’t protect her. She’s fuckin vulnerable right now.”

Tess had looked over at him then as she slung her backpack over her shoulder, tucking her gun away. It broke her heart to see him this distraught. She may have let him go, but she still deeply cared for him and nothing was going to change that.

“Alright, I get it. I won’t mention it again, okay? I’ll be back later. Try to sleep, if you can.”

She gave him one last once over, with a slight nod, before she left the apartment. Quietly shutting the door behind her and locking it.

Joel knew that Tess was only thinking of the best for him. He just truly could not fathom leaving your side. He slowly stood from the coffee table, only to sink down onto the floor, on his knees, still grasping your hand. He used his free hand to lightly brush a few strands of hair from your delicate face. “Hey, don’t listen to her shit okay? I ain’t goin anywhere and you’re not dyin. Not on my fuckin watch.”

His forehead slowly came to rest upon your exposed arm as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“Look, honey. I would literally do anything, kill anyone just to fuckin see your eyes again Gwen. You take your time though, okay? Just, please get better. I’ll be here waiting for you, just like I promised. Remember that?” He waited for some miracle to happen. That suddenly your wound would be healed, and you’d open your eyes. He was grimly reminded that this wasn’t a fairytale. He wasn’t the prince charming who could wake you from his kiss alone. You weren’t the princess either. You both were just two people who endured the harsh reality of survival.

_______

For the next few days, Joel continued to be by your side. You started to show some improvement. It was nearly unnoticeable, but it was enough for his spirits to lift. He found himself talking to you more. It gave him some form of comfort, minimal at most, but it was something. He’d talk to you about Texas, his brother Tommy, Sarah, and how she probably would have fuckin adored you. He tells you about the painted portrait of you that Frank made, and how he’s going to give it to you as soon as you wake up. He tells you how he keeps the painting in his shirt pocket at all times, right against his heart. He even reads to you. He hopes that somehow, all of these one-sided conversations he has, will somehow coax you awake. Each kiss to your head, each gentle squeeze to your hand, has him hoping that you can feel it. That you can feel and hear him all around you, and that you're wishing you could open your eyes and see him too. Just as badly as he’s dying to see you.

By day 7, you were beginning to show increasing signs of improvement. Your breathing wasn’t as shallow, the color was slowly returning to your face and thanks to the penicillin, you surpassed getting an infection. Your body was still very much in pain, and you had a long way to go before you could be on your feet again. It was early evening when your fingers twitched the slightest in Joel’s hand. He hadn’t felt it at first, until your fingers had flexed again and he sat up immediately. Glancing down at your fingers interlocked with his. You moved them again, and his heart skipped a fucking beat. “Baby? Hey, honey. Can ya hear me?” His tone was incredibly gentle as he looked down at your face, waiting for the moment that you would open your eyes, anticipating it. Joel’s voice sounded closer, less fuzzy and more clear. You were slowly gaining your consciousness back and Joel was right there, just like he promised. When your eyes finally fluttered open, you had no recollection of where you were, and why there was a sudden dull pain coursing through your lower abdomen. Then, it all came rushing back. James, the knife, Joel. You panicked. Your body was trembling, eyes wide and frantic as you quickly sat up, wincing from the pain. You couldn’t form words, you were a shell of yourself and James had fucked you up, that was evident. You could feel Joel’s calloused, warm palms cupping your face. His touch was so gentle, you almost didn't feel it. His warm brown eyes were looking into your frantic ones. “Hey, hey. Look, Gwen. It’s me. It’s me. You’re okay, you’re safe. Y o u a r e s a f e.” He spoke to you reassuringly, his eyes stricken with concern as he looked at you.

You were in disbelief that he was really there. Your lips had parted open then, processing your conscious state. What you did next, threw Joel for a loop. You had gently grabbed his face then, and kissed him. There were fresh tears rolling down your cheeks as you went through an overwhelming amount of emotions. You felt like you were being hit by a fucking freight train. Over, and over again. A choked sob slipped past your throat then as he kissed you back. As soon as you broke down, Joel was cradling you against his chest as you clutched his shirt between your fists, gasping for air. The choked, anguished sounds emitting from your chest, shattered Joel to his core. “Hey, Gwen. Shh..shh..honey, it’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you now. I’ve got you.” He had whispered softly against your hair. His one hand was gently holding the back of your head, while the other was resting against your lower back.

You struggled to take deep breaths then as he held you. It felt like your tears were neverending, heavy like a rainstorm as they trickled down your chin. You spoke finally, your voice was raw and cracked. “J-Joel i’m sorry I–shouldn’t have i’m sorry–” He cut you off in a hushed tone then, you had nothing to be sorry for, certainly not for kissing him. That was the last thing he wanted you to be upset at yourself for. “Gwen, honey. You don’t gotta apologize for that. Okay?”

You slowly lifted your chin from his shirt then, eyes glassy and your cheeks flushed and wet with salty tears. Your lower lip was quivering as you slowly nodded. “Okay.” You whispered softly.

“What can I do to..comfort you? I’ll do anythin, okay? Just name it. I hate seein you like this baby. Fuckin tearing me up inside.” He watched as you rested your cheek against his chest once more, your fingers had loosened their tight grip around his shirt now, but you weren’t going to let go anytime soon.

“Just–please hold me. Please, just hold me.”

He nodded then. Bringing his hand that rested against your lower back, higher up, pulling you into him as physically close as possible. Even then, that wasn’t enough.

“I can do that honey. I won’t let go, I promise.” Even when his arms began to ache, he refused to let go of you.

____________________

Sometime after, you had fallen asleep in Joel’s arms. You were exhausted and it was clear that your body needed more rest. He didn’t have the heart to wake you from your peaceful slumber so he instead carefully lifted you from the couch. His knees cracked slightly, and his back ached but he didn’t care about any of that. He quietly carried you to your room, setting you down upon the crumpled sheets. As soon as you could no longer feel his touch, you subconsciously reached for him. Your fingers were outstretched in his direction, searching for him. “Joel.” You whispered into the darkness.

“I’m right here, honey.” He answered right back. You could feel the bed dip down slightly from his body easing onto the mattress. You felt his strong arms slide around your smaller frame, pulling you into his chest gently. “M’right here.” He rasped out. He had pressed a feather light kiss to your forehead then. “Rest now, sugar. You’re safe.” His voice was like whiskey, smooth, warm, and comforting. That’s all it took to lull you back to sleep. Joel fought his own exhaustion then, forcing his eyes to stay open for as long as he could. He intended from this moment forward, to always keep you safe. When he could no longer fight to stay awake, his eyes fluttered shut. His dreams flourished with images of you.

You found it incredibly easy to slip into a routine with Joel. Not that you had much of a choice in the matter. He wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Not wanting you to exert too much energy. This man had gone from a big fat grump, to being overly protective of you. Not that you were really complaining. The thing was, you didn’t view Joel as your boyfriend now. The title seemed too cliche. You weren’t into the cliches, and neither was he. Your relationship was complicated, raw, and very much real. He spent every waking minute with you now. This level of domesticity was something that you had always craved, but never thought you’d ever get the pleasures of enjoying. Joel had no issues giving this pleasure to you. He found it to be just as comfortable as you did. He’d truly be okay with taking whatever it was that you’d offer him. Just having a small piece of you meant the world to him. You evaded talking about what had happened, nearly a month ago now. He didn’t push you to talk about it. If and when you were ready, he’d be there to listen. You had taken notice of Tess's continuous absence from the apartment. You hadn't seen her since that night. Joel assured you that Tess was fine, she was off doing her thing, whatever that had meant.

You could tell that the seasons were changing just by the warmth of the sun seeping in through the windows. It was comforting. Spring was in full bloom and you just wished for a moment, that you and Joel weren’t in this apartment. That instead, you were somewhere far away, tucked in a cozy cottage in the woods. It was a nice dream to have, as long as you realized it would never come true. Joel was comfortably sprawled out on the couch with your back resting against his chest. You still were getting used to the fact that Joel fucking Miller, enjoyed a good book now. You’d cause this man to turn absolutely soft. These moments were for your eyes, and your eyes only. Something had washed over you in those next few moments as you listened to Joel’s steady heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest, his light chuckle at something he had read, the sound of the worn paper being flipped to the next page. Joel Miller was entirely yours.

You had carefully sat up then, turning so you were facing him now. His eyes flickered up to yours momentarily with a raise of his brow. You had delicately wrapped your fingers over the top of the book’s worn spine and coaxed it out of his grasp, tossing it onto the coffee table with a soft thud.

He made a slight sound of protest then. “Sugar, why’d you go and do that huh? I was still readin–” He was cut off by your finger tip lightly pressing to his lips then, silencing him. Joel was stunned, to say the least. You had slowly sank down into his lap then, straddling his hips, stealing the oxygen from his lungs.

“Is this okay?” You asked him then and his heart nearly burst right then and there.

“Huh? Yeah, honey course this is fine. What’re you up to?” His tone was light, and held a sense of amusement. He watched your face carefully then as he slowly dragged his hands up your thighs and settled them around your waist, playing with the ends of your frayed shirt. One that you had stolen from him.

“Can I kiss you, please?”

He let out a deep, throaty chuckle then. You were killin him slowly without even realizing it.

“Yeah, ‘darlin, Course you can. You don’t need to ask me twice.” He teased.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Why were you so nervous? This was Joel, your Joel. Your fellow, your guy.

The feeling of his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against the soft skin on your hip bones was enough to coax you from your thoughts and back to reality. You leaned down then, cupping his strong jaw in your hand, your eyes locked on his, you were both anticipating the moment. Time seemed to stop when you had finally kissed him. His eyes fluttered shut, his fingers grasping firmly to your skin. Your lips were so sweet and he could easily find himself getting drunk off kissing you. you were his favorite drug by far. Your breaths were in sync as you kissed him languidly. You wanted to savor this fucking moment. Your chest was flush against his now. His kisses became desperate, needy. His teeth clashed against yours as he allowed himself the freedom of being completely consumed in you. He nipped your lower lip lightly then, letting his hands slip under your thin shirt, feeling the expanse of your warm skin beneath his touch.

“Tell me if it becomes too much. Don’t wanna overwhelm you.” He mumbled against your lips.

“Please, keep going.” Was your immediate response. There was zero hesitation behind your words. You wanted him as terribly as he wanted you. Your fingers were already toying with the buttons on his flannel as you detached your lips from his and started to pepper kisses along his jaw. He let out a hum of appreciation.

“Sit up honey.” His tone was huskier now, dripping with the desire for you.

You slowly sat up then, your cheeks were flushed and your lips were swollen from his kisses. You watched as Joel slowly began to lift your shirt from the hem. His eyes never left yours as more of your skin was revealed. He sat up slightly then gently gliding the fabric up your torso, over your breasts and finally, your head. The fabric was discarded to the side then. His fingers reached out and lightly brushed against your imperfect skin. Littered with scars, indents, you were like his own personal constellation. His thumb had brushed against the stitching on your abdomen then. You sucked in a harsh breath from the contact.

“You’re so fucking beautiful Gwen.” He breathed out.

Now you were the one left in shock. The butterflies swirled deep in the pit of your stomach and your head was spinning.

“Cat got your tongue, ‘darlin?”

He had a small smirk on his face now and you could see his dimple peeking out. God, this mother fucker was so handsome, you could melt into a puddle right now. “Shut up. You just always know what to say and frankly? It’s annoying as hell.”

He chuckled then, wrapping his arms around you, tilting his head down to be level with yours before he captured your lips in another searing kiss.

“Mmm. I tend to have that effect on ya sugar. What can I say?”

His lips had sinfully dipped from yours and made their descent down your jaw, nipping at the spot where your jaw met your neck. You immediately leaned into him then, stifling a quiet moan. He had found your sweet spot with ease. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Miller. I swear to god.”

“Ditto, Sugar.” You could feel his slick smirk against your searing skin. Your mouth fell open when he had sucked harshly at your thin skin, leaving marks in their wake. When his lips dipped lower, and lower, the need for more was becoming nearly unbearable. He had licked a hot stripe between the valley of your breasts. Your fingers had found their way into his hair, gripping his soft curls as you let your nails lightly scratch his scalp.

When his mouth finally enclosed around your nipple, you nearly fell apart. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin, biting down slightly causing you to jolt from the sensation.

“Fuck.” You gasped.

He hummed in response, bringing his other hand around the swell of your untouched breast. Toying with your nipple between his thumb and forefinger while his mouth continued to expertly worked the other. It was a delicious combination, the way his mouth and fingers played you like a violin. You found yourself grasping his hair tighter, yanking him up suddenly before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips drinking in his low chuckle that rumbled from deep within his chest.

“I wasn’t done with ya yet. You’re a needy little thing, huh?”

“Shut up, Joel.” You mumbled against his lips and in one swift movement, he had turned the tables, flipping you gently so you were underneath him now. Your back hit the couch with a soft thud before his lips were on yours once more. Your fingers frantically began to undo the buttons of his flannel. He broke the kiss only to help you out with the last few before you were pushing the fabric down his broad shoulders and biceps. It was soon discarded with your shirt on the floor. Your lips met once more, desperation seeping through both of you.

“I’m gonna take care of ya, okay honey? Will you let me do that, please?”

You were nearly clawing at his skin now, your nails lightly scraping his biceps.

“Please, Joel. Don’t make me beg you.”

He nipped at your lip once more, tugging it out with his teeth before he released it.

“Ain’t gonna go and put you through that kinda torture, sugar. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. I got you.” His forehead was lightly resting against yours now, his lips barely touching yours. He was the devil, you were certain of it. He watched your eyes intently then as he slowly dragged his hand down your torso, brushing against your navel. Your skin felt electrified from his touch then as his hand dipped lower, and lower.

“G’nna take these off now, okay honey?”

All you could do was nod, your breath was caught in your throat and he had barely touched you yet. You felt his hand grasp the waistband of your sweats then, slowly pulling them down over your hip and thighs and past your ankles. He was taking his sweet time with you, and it was driving you crazy. His hand came between your inner thighs then, coaxing them open, not that he even had to try. His fingers had slowly dipped down under your panties, toying with your slick folds as he spread them open.

“Wet for me already, hm? You're absolutely drippin for me baby.” His words were straight filth to your ears as you felt your back arch up towards him, lips parted open, a low moan slipping past them.

He toyed with your clit then, moving his fingers in expert slow circles, applying just enough pressure for you to mewl. His fingers were slick with your arousal then as he brought his middle finger down lower, circling your entrance as he slipped it into your warmth, slowly. His finger was knuckle deep as he curled it against the spongy spot of your walls. As your moans slipped out of your parted lips freely, he drank them in, kissing you once more as he slipped his forefinger in and slowly began to pump them in and out of you. Listening to the squelching sounds of your pussy clamping down around his thick digits.

You were a mess already as you kissed him, your lips struggling to keep up with his as he continued to ruin you with his fingers. His free hand had reached up to cup your face then, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb as he watched you slip into pleasure.

“Feels good, doesn’t it Sugar? You’re takin my fingers so well baby. You can hold on a little longer, can’t you honey?” He had used his thumb to circle your clit once more as he increased the pace of his fingers, curling them inside you once more.

You let out a strangled moan, your eyes rolling back into your skull.

“I-I can hold on a little longer baby, fuck.”

His lips curved up then from your response. He took note of how you called him baby and god, did he love it.

“That’s it. Good girl. You’re such a good girl for me honey.” He praised you then. One last curl of his fingers deep inside you, nearly had you on the edge. Before you could be seeing stars, he had slipped his fingers out. They were coated in your arousal and you watched with hooded eyes, in a daze as he slipped them past his lips, licking his fingers clean right before your very eyes. This man was the definition of Filth.

“You taste so fuckin sweet honey. G’nna have to get a proper taste of you later, okay? It’ll be my treat. You’ll love it, I promise.”

He was kissing you again, letting you have a taste of yourself against his lips. You wanted him even more now, if that was even possible. Skin on skin with him buried to the hilt inside of you. Your two bodies connected, that’s what you really wanted.

You were grasping for his belt then, undoing his buckle in a haste. He had grabbed your wrist gently then, ceasing your movements. “Joel, please. I need you, I need all of you.”

“You sure, sugar?” He wanted all of you too, more than ever now but this wouldn’t just be fucking, not like the first time. He knew this would mean a hell of a lot more to both of you.

You sat up then, grabbing his face in your hands gently, stroking your thumbs along the coarse stubble of his beard. Your chest was rising and falling at a quick rate as you were coming down from your near orgasm moments ago.

“Joel, baby. I’m more than sure. I’ve never been more fuckin sure of anything in my entire life.” Your confession knocked into him, your words stealing the air from his lungs.

“I’m yours.” He whispered, bringing his hands to rest along your cheeks then, using his thumb to brush a strand of loose hair behind your ear, his forehead resting against yours. You both were silent as the moment washed over. The realization, the excitement that bubbled between you. The chemistry was palpable, and electric. Suddenly, he was kissing you again, slow, deep, intimately. There was nothing but passion emitting from his lips. While his fingers gently pushed your panties down past your ankles, you worked his jeans down, giggling lightly in between kisses as he struggled to kick them off.

“Damn fuckin things. Always gettin in the fuckin way.” His Texas accent was thick now and when he finally kicked them damned things off, he wasted no time to rid himself of his boxers now as he settled between your thighs, his tip lightly pressing against your slick folds. He grabbed the back of your thighs then, gently yanking you down so you were beneath him. The movement caused the length of his cock to slide up between your slick folds.

You both let out a low hiss from the friction.

His lips hovered above yours as he grabbed the base of his cock, inhaling as he slowly sunk his tip past your folds, sinking into your deep warmth, his eyes flickering to where your bodies connected, watching as he disappeared inside of you completely. Your sweet moans intertwined with his low groans. He dipped his head down, capturing your lips between his as you brought your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him in as close as physically possible as he thrust his hips slowly, at first. Your nails scraped at his skin then as he quickened his pace, giving one sharp thrust that knocked you back slightly. He detached his lips from yours so he could watch your face, see your mouth fall open, watch your breasts bounce with each sharp thrust.

“Fuck, honey. You feel so fuckin good. God, I'm gonna get drunk off you and this pretty little pussy. You’re killin me, Gwen.”

He grasped your thighs then, bringing them around his hips so he could fuck you at a deeper angle. You immediately caught on, digging the heels of your feet into his ass, bringing him in closer as he continued to fuck you. In his haste, he brought his thumb down between where your bodies were connected. He vigorously started to rub circles against your already sensitive clit, he wanted you to cum before he would even get the chance.

“Joel, i’m close baby, i’m so fuckin close.” You could taste the impending orgasm on your tongue as you moaned out his name.

“I know you are ‘darlin. Doin so good baby. You’re takin me so fuckin well. G’nna get you there alright?” He gruffly spoke, snapping his hips once more before his thrusts started to become uncoordinated and sloppy. He continued rubbing your clit, you were nearly seeing stars as a strangled sob of pleasure wrecked through your body.

“That’s it baby, that’s it. Cum for me honey. C’mon, let go. I’ve got ya, you’re safe.”

One final thrust, and flick of your sensitive bundle of nerves had you falling apart around him. Your thighs were shaking as he held himself at the hilt inside of you. He came undone as quickly as you had. You were chanting his name like a fucking oath and he cut you off with his lips, kissing you sloppily as he groaned out your name, mumbling into your lips about how good you were for him, how fuckin beautiful you were. He rested his sweaty forehead against your shoulder, his eyes were closed as he panted heavily. You brought your hand up into his sweat soaked hair, running your fingers through it as you cradled his head gently. He stayed buried inside of you, even after he had gone soft. Neither of you wanted to be separated from each other just yet.

Once both of your breathing was no longer jagged, and your heart rates turned to normal, Joel had turned his head to look at you, a lazy smile gracing his features. He looked drunk off sex, so did you.

“How was that darlin? Did I do alright?”

You couldn’t help but giggle then. It was such a sweet sound to his ears and he liked that you were holding him so close. Your comfort was appreciated 1000 times over.

“You silly fuckin man, you did more than alright. You were amazin.” You had a soft smile on your lips as well and he couldn’t help but lean in, kissing you sweetly before he pulled away and pecked your nose, causing you to giggle again.

“Mmm, good. Just needa ya to inflate my ego a bit, honey.”

You gave his shoulder a light slap and he chuckled from it.

“You, Joel Miller, can be an insufferable bastard when you wanna be.” Your tone was light and playful as you continued to lightly play with his hair.

“You’re right on the head with that one ‘darlin. You enjoy it though. I’ll keep doin it if it means I get to hear your laugh. You’re adorable.”

“Shut up, I'm still recovering and you’re gonna make me blush!”

“Good.” He spoke lowly with a smirk on his face before he had slowly slipped out of you. He gave you one last kiss before he reached for his boxers and slipped them on, handing you your panties.

“Hang tight, okay honey? Gonna get you a towel, glass of water and a fresh shirt, okay?”

You watched as he stood then, checking out the way his back muscles flexed. God, you were so fucking lucky.

“Goin all gentlemanly on me now, Miller?”

He looked back at you then, grin on his face as he nodded.

“Had to bring that southern charm out on ya eventually honey. You deserve it. Now, you just sit there and look pretty for me.” He winked then and you reached down grabbing his shirt from the floor and chucked it at him. He caught it, no problem. Bastard.

Joel returned to you minutes later, a fresh shirt in hand and a towel. He leaned down then gently wiping between your thighs. He was very attentive as he cleaned you up. You had never had a man take care of you like this before. Sure, you had your fair share of partners in the past, none were like your Joel. Nothing was ever going to compare to him. He had you sit up then as he slid the fresh shirt over your arms, stealing a kiss before he padded off to the kitchen. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, bringing the collar of his shirt to your nose, it smelled of him. It smelled of home.

He handed you a glass of water then, before he sank down beside you, bringing his arm around you, leaning over and kissed your cheek sweetly as you took a sip of the water, settling against his warm, bare chest.

A comfortable silence washed over both you and Joel as you both recovered from your post-sex activities. A warmth had settled over you and couldn’t help but brush your fingers across his jaw lightly, taking in the way he smiled at you. It was a rare sight for Joel Miller to smile. He saved those moments for you. Tonight, he had given himself entirely to you. He was allowing himself the freedom to feel again. It was hard for him to even try and put into words how you made him feel. The one thing he did know, was that he was forever grateful that you stepped into his life. You brightened it in more ways than you’d ever know.

You had gotten the best sleep in your entire fucking life that night. All thanks to Joel Miller. your fellow, your guy.

Chapter 11 :

352 notes · View notes