#and Dain refusing to let him down and the others | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

callsign-rogueone · 10 months ago

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keep her safe - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x Marked!Pacifist!Reader This one is for my fellow tired, chronic pain girls who just want their suffering to serve some purpose, and those who trust everyone they meet, even if they shouldn’t. wc: 4.7k -- the longest work I've ever put on this blog! second chapter is here! 🏷: spoilers for both Fourth Wing books (I’m currently 500 pages into Iron Flame, and y’all... 😭) people refer to you with she/her pronouns, canon-typical violence and torture, mentions of canon character death / death of a family member, bad coping mechanisms, Dain and his memory reading (I tried to make him more tolerable), one (1) reference to sex, I gave you a last name (Avan) and Garrick calls you angel as a pet name, because I refuse to use y/n. Your dragon's name is Tab.

Your stomach drops as your name is called for a challenge. “No weapons today.” Emeterrio adds. “I want you to work on your hand-to-hand.”

The pair of you unsheath nearly a dozen knives apiece, you handing yours to Bodhi. Disarmed, you extend a hand to the boy, as is the Tyrrish tradition before a friendly spar, but he doesn’t take it. No unmarked ones ever have.

He charges first, tangles a hand in your hair and pulls, jerking your head back, and the crowd of freshmen gasp, but you plant your feet and move with him, twisting your spine with practiced ease.

That gives you enough distance to kick a leg out at his right knee, hitting him squarely in the back of it. He releases you. Another swift kick to his legs has them sweeping out from under him. You dig a thumb into his collarbone, finding just the right spot, and he crumples, giving you a split second to wrap your arm around his throat.

He claws at your elbow with blunt nails, wasting breath as he attempts to rise to his feet, but you keep him pinned with your body weight, bearing down as hard as you can. He bucks, and your left boot skids against the mat.

You bend your knee to brace yourself in a lunge. Your arm is starting to falter, he can feel the muscle straining around his jaw, but he’s tiring too — running out of air. If neither of you moves, he’s going to die.

“Enough,” Emeterrio commands.

You release him, extending a hand to pull him up, but he smacks it away and dives straight at you, clearly not done. “I’m not letting you off that easily, traitor.”

You squeak in surprise, your back hitting the mat with a thud, and he lands another blow to your jaw. You struggle to take control back, gasping for breath from how hard you’d hit the floor.

He gathers your wrists into one hand easily, the other closing around your throat.

“You are going to die on this mat if you don’t do something, now. Use the failsafe.”

There’s one dagger you hadn’t removed, that you’d won from Garrick in combat your first year, that he’d let you win, really, and promptly ordered that you never remove it from your reach, for situations like this.

He doesn’t have your legs pinned, so you kick out, catching him in the thigh, and his grip falters. You manage to wiggle one arm free to pull the blade from the inside of your jacket, rolling onto your side and holding the point millimeters away from his chest. “Yield,” you order, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You won’t kill me,” He snarls. “Everyone knows you’re all bark and no bite. That’s why you keep him around.”

You drag it down, just enough to tear his shirt. “Yield, or you’ll meet Malek today and you can explain to him what a cheating coward you are.” The words surprise you, but you fight to maintain the hardened look on your face, trying to convince him you’re serious.

“Fine,” he spits, “I yield.”

Heart still pounding, you move to lean against the wall with the other marked ones, Bodhi handing you back your arsenal blade by blade.

“She cheated!” Jason protests as soon as he’s standing again.

“She did what was necessary after you defied a direct order from a superior officer,” Emeterrio says narrowly.

Jason glowers, but returns to his friends without further argument. The rest of the pack takes note of their faces; they’re likely as conniving as him, and as liable to try to kill you, too.

“I’m gonna end that motherfucker,” Garrick mutters, checking you over for injuries as subtly as he can. He hands you a scrap of cloth and you wipe the blood from your nose, wincing, but grateful it isn’t broken.

“He’s been at this for months. One of these days, he’s going to kill you.” Bodhi says quietly, his gaze not moving from the next sparring pair.

“Why not kill him first?” Imogen asks. “You had a knife to his gut, you should have used it.”

“No.” You say firmly. “To kill anyone unmarked, especially an officer’s son, would confirm what everyone else in this army believes about Tyrs; that we are bloodthirsty animals.”

“Let them believe that,” she scoffs. “They’ll never change their mind.”

You sigh. Maybe she’s right.

You don’t see your friends for the next ten hours, when you’re finally excused for dinner.

“Where the hell have you been?” Bodhi asks.

“Medical wing,” you rasp, sliding into a seat at the end of the bench. “Mending infantry with Carr.”

“You should eat,” Liam says softly, pushing a plate toward you, but you shake your head no, every muscle in your body screaming.

You look like your head is going to hit the table, your neck no longer able to hold it up. Bodhi pulls you into his side and you slump against him, boneless. “Her signet isn’t fully developed yet,” you hear him explain to Violet and Liam. “She’ll be okay. She just needs to rest.”

When you wake, it’s dark out, the room nearly pitch black, but you can tell it’s not yours — the furniture is arranged differently.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, gentle one,” Tab greets as soon as you’re cognizant. He can only be this dry about it because he knew you’d pull through. “If he makes you do that again, I’ll eat him.”

You laugh, wincing at the pain in your ribs. Your entire body aches. There’s no way you got up the three flights of stairs here yourself — you didn’t even have it in you to chew food at dinner.

There’s a comforting scent to the room — all the soap and detergent everyone uses is standard issue, but something about the sheets smells like Garrick. Your theory is confirmed when he walks through the door, the hallway light illuminating the hilts of the two swords strapped to his back. “If you want me in your bed, Gare, you just need to ask,” you say in greeting.

He laughs dryly, waving a hand to activate a small mage light. “The damage can’t be too bad if you’re already cracking jokes.”

“I missed physics, didn’t I? Did you carry me up here?”

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about. You can copy Violet’s notes, they’re way better than mine.” He strips some of the weapons off, shedding his flight jacket along with them. It’s something you’ve seen many times before, but it never fails to make your heart flutter.

He sits on the edge of the bed, a gentle hand moving up to lay against your cheek. “And I did carry you. I’d do anything for you, angel. It scares me sometimes.”

He brushes a piece of hair from your face. You’d been freezing cold when you fell asleep, so he’d draped you with every blanket he owned before leaving, and it seems to have worked — your skin is pleasantly warm against his hand.

“Anything, hm?” You ask, a lazy smile on your face.

His eyes sparkle at the mischief in your tone, but he’s responsible enough to think before he acts. “Not until you’ve recovered,” he says sternly.

You yawn. “D’you have section leader stuff to do tonight?”

“That’s what executive officers are for.”

You crack an eye to look at him in disapproval. “Gare, you can’t skip duty. Melgren will have your head.”

He sighs. “Fine. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t. Your bed is more comfortable than mine anyway.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, tugging the jacket back on and strapping in the swords.

/////////

Someone is standing in front of your yoga mat. Dain. “No bodyguard today?” He asks.

You’re silent, your gaze flickering between him and the longsword by your side, the one Garrick had insisted you take with you everywhere when he wasn’t there to protect you.

“You may find this hard to believe, but I don’t want to kill you.” He says with a sigh. “I just need to-”

“Quit talking and join me, or leave.” You interrupt, settling into a deeper stretch, eyes closing as you gesture to the floor next to you with an open hand. By the grace of Amari, Carr had given you enough time off to recover, but he’ll likely be making you work another shift in the infirmary today. This will be your only pocket of calm for the next twelve hours. You aren’t going to skip it for Dain, of all people.

He chooses the first option, surprising you as he drags a mat over beside yours, attempting to copy your movements. “Do you really do this every day?” He asks, uncomfortable.

“Even a soldier must take time to be at peace. Clear your mind. Whatever you’re thinking about is so loud it’s distracting.”

He startles, his foot slipping on the mat.

“No, my signet is not mind-reading.” You say, eyes still closed, though there’s an amused look on your face. “Relax. You’re killing the air in here with that nervous energy.”

For the next five minutes, you both stretch in total silence. “Now,” you decide, bringing your arms back to your body, focusing on your breathing, “what was so important that you needed to find me here?”

He cuts straight to it. “Varrish wants me to… practice on you. He thinks you’re hiding something, that all of you are.” He doesn’t need to specify who he means by you.

You don’t seem to react to the information, instead looking at him with curiosity. “How do you feel about your signet?”

He blinks. Nobody’s ever asked him that before. “I don’t know.” He says quietly. You shift again, but he doesn’t follow you, folding his legs underneath him instead. Your silence presses him to speak, needing to fill the air. “I used to think it was cool, but now… now I’m wondering if it’s really a gift at all.”

“What do you see when you view a memory like that? Are you living it through their eyes, or from above, watching it unfold? How far back can you see?”

“Through their eyes.” He answers, throat dry. Why is he telling you this? “A day, maybe two. It depends. Varrish wants me to learn to push it farther.”

You weigh the consequences. If he’s being honest, he won’t see anything confidential — at worst, a gathering of more than three marked ones to exercise, but is he really petty enough to tell Varrish about that, when he’s giving you a warning in the first place?

“Okay.” You say, opening your eyes. Better it be you than one of the kids who can’t shield their memories yet, or Garrick or Bodhi, who would rip him limb from limb if he tried to touch them.

“What?”

“I’m going to go about my day now as if this conversation never happened,” you say, looking him in the eye, unflinching, “and you’re going to do what you have to do to satisfy Varrish’s demands — with me and only me. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” he stammers, shocked that you’re letting him do this.

“Good.” You pick up the longsword, strapping it back in along your spine. “Dain?” You call over your shoulder. “I won’t make it easy for you.” You say, and he knows that’s a promise.

“That was an incredibly stupid decision, gentle one. A noble decision, but stupid nonetheless.” Tab speaks into your mind on the way back up to your room. “You cannot always assume everyone has good intentions. It would have been your downfall by now, if not for your mate’s protection.”

“Stop calling Garrick my mate. That’s weird.” You deflect, not wanting to unpack his earlier words.

“Forgive me. Dragons do not have a word for a relationship as trivial as a boyfriend.”

You build up a mental wall like Xaden had taught you, ending the argument.

When Varrish calls you into his office that afternoon, you already know what it’s for. “Take a seat,” he says with a smile that you know isn’t meant to be friendly.

He sees the way your eyes immediately narrow at the sight of Dain — everyone knows how the quadrant’s golden boy feels about marked ones, and how you feel about him. You’re going to be doing some very good acting today.

The door closes and locks behind you, and your stomach flips as you feel the sound shield form and press up against the office walls. There’s no escape, and no screaming for help, but you know what you’ve walked into. You signed up for it this morning.

“To what do I owe this meeting, Major?” You ask respectfully, lowering yourself into the chair beside Dain.

“Professor Carr has made me aware that both of your signets have been slow to develop. We’re going to spend your leisure time today practicing, in hopes that you will finally improve.” A very convincing lie, you’ll admit. If Dain hadn’t come to you this morning, you might have believed it. “No objections?” He asks, waiting for you to protest.

“No, sir.” You say calmly, Dain answering the same a beat behind you.

“Good. Aetos, you first.”

It takes every ounce of self control not to squirm as Dain stands, stepping toward you. You lift your chin, closing your eyes -- a gesture of consent small enough to fly under the Vice Commandant’s radar.

You may be letting him try, but you’d told him this wouldn’t be easy. You block him out completely, raising your mental shield and barring the gates.

“What do you see?” Varrish asks.

Dain doesn’t answer. He does not push, does not attempt to kick the door down or dig below the foundation. He stands outside, waiting for you to give him something.

The crack of his nose breaking has your eyes flying open, the coppery scent of blood starting to fill the room immediately as he staggers back into his chair.

“Your turn, Avan."

You stand, laying a gentle hand on Dain’s jaw to tilt it up, stopping the blood from pouring down his shirt.

He looks up at you, stunned, but lets you touch the broken cartilage with your fingertips, and moments later it feels like nothing ever happened. It’s mind-bending.

“Very good. Aetos, try again. What was she doing this morning?”

Dain stands, angling his body between yours and Varrish’s so that the Major can’t see the apology he mouths before his hands touch your forehead. Whether he can see his conversation with you in the gym is unclear. He lies through his teeth either way. “She was alone,” he answers, “on a run to the flight field and back.”

“And then?”

He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes not leaving yours. “A shower, breakfast. Eggs. An apple. Toast. She sat with Tavis and two other marked ones.” He leaves out Violet from the group, not wanting to implicate her. Interesting.

That much is true, but it’s part of your everyday routine — he could have easily gleaned that from watching you across the mess hall. Is he still locked out?

Varrish stands, rounding the corner of his desk. “Let’s make this a little harder, shall we?”

Dain screams as a dagger pierces his arm, thrashing in his chair. Varrish twists the blade as he pulls it out, letting Dain’s blood drip to the floor. This is why he needed the sound shield.

Your eyes widen, and the adrenaline has you leaping to your feet to fix it. You press a hand into the wound, apologizing when he winces. It takes you longer than it should for the muscle to repair itself.

“You care more about him than I thought.” Varrish muses.

You turn to him, anger flickering in your chest. “It is my moral obligation to help the wounded.”

He tuts. “You would have made an excellent healer, had your parents not committed high treason. Aetos, again. Find something older.”

Dain trembles as he stands, and you take pity on him. You push an older memory forward, a happy one, remembering it as vividly as you can.

You watch together as you sprint through the forest, stopping dead in your tracks as you see two cadets fighting. The one losing is a smaller girl in your class whose name Dain can’t remember, a tall, muscled boy towering over her, sword ready to strike.

You spring forward, catching him by surprise and effectively disarming him, and he chooses to abandon the sword and run rather than fight the both of you. You extend a hand to pull the girl to her feet and her eyes widen further, staring up not at you, but behind you.

You feel a burst of heat against your back — not hot enough to be fire. Steam. You bow your head in deference, turning slowly to give the girl time to run… And the dragon bows back. What the fuck?

“You did not kill the boy.” It says directly into your mind.

“I did not.” You answer aloud, not sure if humans can do that.

“Have you ever killed before, gentle one?”

“I haven’t.” Should you be embarrassed? Dragons are violent, surely they would see this as a sign of weakness.

“Not all of us.”

“Holy shit, you can read my mind.”

The girl laughs in disbelief, and you realize you’ve just bonded a dragon.

“In time you’ll learn to control that. But your friend needs to get moving, and so do we.”

You wish her luck before scaling the leg of your dragon and taking a seat.

“Hold on.”

You shriek in happiness like a child as he jumps up, and seconds later you’re thousands of feet in the air, looking down at Basgiath and the valley below. When you return to the flight field, you find Garrick there with a giant brown Scorpiontail, bloodied but happy as he stands next to Xaden and the biggest blue daggertail you’ve ever seen. You pull them both into a hug, just grateful they’re alive.

“Careful, angel,” Garrick warns, grinning into your hair, “we just might make it out of here.”

You cut Dain off there, yanking back the memory before slamming your shields back up. He can have that moment, but only that moment.

“Threshing,” Dain says. Thank the gods. “She helped another cadet who was being attacked. That’s why Tab chose her, for her kindness.”

You both look at Varrish for further instruction. Your shields have been weakening with every injury you repair, but so have Dain’s abilities. You don’t know how many more rounds either of you can take.

“I think that’s enough for today,” He says, sounding pleased. “I’ll see you again on Wednesday morning, to check your progress. You’re dismissed.”

The sound shield dissipates, the door unlocking. The only evidence is Dain’s blood, smeared across his face and arms, drying on the floor and under your nails. You commit the sight to memory, tucking it into the same folder that holds the death of your parents, and slam the drawer shut.

It takes you five minutes to scrub the blood out of the cracks in your palms and from under your nails. Your fingertips are wrinkled when you step into the gym.

“Why did Tab tell Chradh that you were called into Varrish’s office with Aetos?” Garrick asks, remarkably calm as he toys with one of his smaller daggers.

“Because he’s a meddling mother hen.” You answer, avoiding the question.

“Watch it.” Tab warns. “Tell him the truth, or we will.”

You know he’s not bluffing. “He wanted us to practice our signets on each other.”

“Dain practiced his signet, his memory-reading signet, on you?” He asks, already simmering with anger.

“This morning, he came to me to warn me about Varrish’s plan, and I told him it was okay. I used my shields, and I only showed him what I wanted to. We’re supposed to do it again Wednesday.”

Your eyes communicate something else you won’t say aloud, not in front of everyone, and not when you know Dain might be able to see this conversation in two days. I did this to take the heat off of the others. You know I was the safest choice.

Garrick sighs. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I’d like to state for the record that I hate this plan. Literally everything about it. Except for Aetos being stabbed, maybe.” Of course Chradh told him about that. He’d have been delighted by the news, despising both him and Cath.

You give him a look.

“Okay, fine. I take that back.”

He doesn’t.

By Wednesday, the pain in the bridge of your nose is gone, but your arm is still tender where Dain had been stabbed. Bodhi joins you in the gym, stretching with you for a few minutes before he settles into a plank at your side, his eyes never leaving the door.

Dain does not make an appearance at breakfast, notably absent from the leadership table.

Garrick excuses himself as soon as he sees you stand with your tray, catching you by the doors. “Remember that you’re stronger than both of them in all the ways that matter,” he says quietly. “I’ll find you as soon as you’re done.” You both tap your chest twice before parting ways, as has been your tradition for years -- a reminder that even though you’re leaving, you still hold the other in your heart.

Each step up to Varrish’s office is another reminder of what’s to come when you reach the top. “Cadet Avan,” he greets with another sickening smile. “Just in time. We were beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

Your jaw drops at the sight of Dain slumped into the same chair as last time, bloodied and exhausted.

“Nothing fatal,” Varrish reassures. “Not if you act quickly. Go ahead, get started.”

The Vice Commandant’s words have you on edge as you assess him, looking for gaping wounds or broken bones. Dain winces as your hands move over his ribs, and you whisper an apology, pressing in deeper. When your chest starts to ache, you know it’s time to move on. You mend two broken ribs, dissolve a purple bruise on his arm, and fix a split lip, but Dain still hasn’t woken up.

You turn back to Varrish. “One left,” he says. “Use your head.”

Oh, gods. He’d given Dain a concussion, because he knows the migraine it’ll give you will make it harder to shield. You cradle the second-year’s head in your hands, breathing out deeply as you transfer the pain from his body to yours, healing the bruised tissue. Dain blinks himself awake as you stumble, the room suddenly spinning.

“Well done. Aetos?”

You fumble for the arms of your chair, vision blurring at the edges, but you manage to sit back down.

“Say the word, and I get your mate,” Tab offers. He can probably feel your disorientation, concerned you won’t be able to block Dain out in this state.

“No,” you rasp back. “If he shows up, Varrish will have us practice on him instead.”

You need to pick another memory to satisfy Varrish, something older, but your brain isn’t firing on all cylinders. Dain gives you a moment to gather yourself, a small gesture of mercy.

“A moment of pure happiness,” Tab suggests. “Something with the wingleader and your mate.”

You flip back in the book of your life, nearly all the way to the beginning, opening it to the right page to give to Dain and slipping it under the gate with a nod of your head — you’re ready.

Dain’s hands are warm against your freezing cheeks. A boy no older than five that he recognizes as Garrick crouches under a desk across the room, holding a finger to his lips.

“Wherever could those children possibly be?” Someone muses aloud, and you fight laughter as the voice grows closer, thinking it amusing that this adult has no idea you’re hiding in the curtains.

Footsteps retreat, and Garrick signals for you to move. You make it down the hallway before you see someone searching — presumably whatever parent you’d convinced to play with you. Small hands tug you both behind a plush velvet couch. Xaden.

You press yourselves up against it, trying to be as quiet as possible, watching as a shadow forms on the wall in front of you, then a head peers over the back of the couch — that must be your father. He looks just like you, has the same warm smile.

“One more, and then I need to get back to work,” He says, already moving to cover his eyes and starting to count to one hundred. You each run off in a different direction, and the scene fades there.

“A childhood memory,” Dain says. “Playing hide and seek in her father’s office with Riorson and Tavis.”

Not good enough for Varrish. “Give me something I can use,” he snarls, a Freudian slip, but nothing either of you hadn’t known already.

You flip forward in the book, settling on a page you never look at, that you can’t bear to, but that Varrish will revel in. You rip it out, sliding it under the gate. “Bad,” you whisper, the only warning you can manage.

Dain nods in permission, ready to watch whatever memory you’ve pushed forward.

Someone presses a small stone into your hand, an intricate overlap of shapes and lines engraved on one side, the other perfectly smooth.

“Do not put it down, even for a moment,” your father says. He’s aged between now and the last memory, starting to go gray at his temples. “Keep it in your hand until the end. It will protect you when we can’t.”

He looks next to Garrick. “She is everything good about the world.” He says quietly. “Take care of her.”

Garrick promises he will, and your father pulls you into one last embrace before he leaves. Tears blur your vision, Garrick pulling you close. “It’ll be okay,” he soothes. “They’ll come back.”

Hours pass that Dain can’t see, because you don’t remember them.

There’s an ache in your palm from clutching the stone so hard, the rounded corners digging into your skin. Garrick takes your free hand in his, interlocking your fingers. Then there’s only screaming and fire and rage, heat burning up your arm as it’s marked with inky swirls. Until the end, your father had said. This must have been what he meant.

“Her parents’ execution,” Dain says, a note of genuine hurt in his voice. “They gave each child a runestone before they left, as protection.”

Varrish’s eyes rake over to you. He leans forward, yanking on the leather cord that disappears into the neck of your shirt hard enough to pull your body with it. “A runestone like this one?”

“Yes,” you answer before Dain can, saving him the lie. You shut your eyes, wincing as the cold edge of a knife brushes against your neck and the cord breaks, a single drop of warm blood running down your collarbone. You don’t protest, you can’t, your mind still hazy and eyes wet with tears from reliving the memory with Dain.

“That will be all.” Varrish dismisses. He doesn’t make an appointment for you to come back. He has what he needs.

You stand, relying on your knowledge of the office’s layout to navigate your way forward until the door closes behind you.

“I’m so sorry,” Dain breathes once you’re down the hall far enough to avoid being heard. “If I had known,”

“It’s okay. The rune is long dead, and he has no idea how to recreate it. I’m just glad he didn’t hurt you again.” You blink, trying to clear your head. How are you going to get down all these stairs? You can hardly see.

“Here,” he says quietly, extending a hand. You take it, letting him loop an arm over his shoulders — your right, the one that Varrish hadn’t bruised black and blue on Dain — and lead you one step at a time.

You’re halfway down when you hear heavy footsteps running up the stairs. Garrick. He’d promised he’d find you when you were done. He doesn’t spare a glance at Dain, gathering you into his arms and apologizing when he puts pressure on your not-broken ribs.

Dain watches as the older boy carries you down the rest of the stairs, murmuring reassurances to you all the while. Your father’s words echo in his mind. “Take care of her.”

Garrick Tavis is a man of his word.

#garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #reader insert #fourth wing fanfic #iron flame fanfic #garrick tavis imagine #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing imagine #throwing this into the void for the three Garrick girlies out there!#liam fic next??#mine #Garrick and Angel

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madockisser · 4 months ago

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The folk of the air/ the cruel prince theory spoiler warning for the series (not including tsh or tpt)

so i’m doing my seasonly tfota read, specifically tcp rn, and i just reread a line balekin said to cardan when jude breaks into hollow hall.

he says romances PLURAL, which ofc mainly insinuates Nicasia, but it got me thinking. cardan states that balekin never failed to throw jude’s existence in his face to insult cardan, which he admits to her when she’s kidnapped him. and then of course the infamous scene in book 2 where balekin is all like “i heard the feeling of falling in love for mortals is like fear” but like, what compelled him to say that ? maybe it can be dumbed down to him being confused abt why she’s seneschal, or maybe he thinks that the reason that she helped cardan get the throne from balekin is bc she loves him.

and we all know the scene in twk when balekin is all like “kiSs mE liKE i’m cArdaN”(🤮) which means he knows of the feelings they have for each other, but when exactly does he realize cardans feelings for jude?

which brings me back to when balekin says romances plural. does he perhaps already know of cardans feelings toward jude even in the first book? he’s aware that cardan frees his mortal servants, and refuses to kill them, and even takes beatings for them (which he recognizes as weakness), and nicasia knew that cardan had feelings for jude, she knew the dress he sent her for dains coronation, did balekin also?

in a short story, “a visit to the impossible lands” focusing on kaye and roiben(the modern faerie tales), kaye IMMEDIATELY sees cardans feelings for jude, describing the way he looks at her, like she were made of glamour and smoke, comparing it to the same way her lover and emo bf roiben looks at kaye.

and even locke knew cardan wanted jude “i knew you wanted her, which is why i had to have her first”(mean!) and even in taryns novella, she notices that cardan looks at jude with a “lascivious” heavy lidded stare. DAIN also partook in the acknowledgment of jude and cardans lovers quarrel after the tournament in tcp, so does this mean that perhaps balekin did also?

anyway i think this is a really interesting theory, i really like reading abt cardan and balekins dynamic, abt how balekin refers to mortals as “mice” and how cardan is confused and empathetic toward them. (and fascinated by jude)

feel free to add on or let me know your thoughts!

#tfota #the cruel prince #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the high king of elfhame #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #tfota theory #locke #holly black #the folk of the air #taryn duarte

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sarawritestories · 7 months ago

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I Wanna Be Yours Chapter 1

Xaden Riorson X Lydia Aetos

Summary: Lydia Aetos Longs to be a Ballerina, her father has other plans, and has conscripted her to the rider's quadrant with her childhood friend Violet. Reuniting with her brother he only gives her two orders. Do not bring up wanting to dance and stay far away from Xaden Riorson. Both of his orders go ignored.

Content Warning: Violence.

A/N: Here is the first chapter I hope you all Enjoy! 🩰

Word Count: 4.9K

If you want to Read on AO3 click Here

I Wanna Be Yours Masterlist

Ashes. I’m watching my pointe shoes turn into ashes. I can’t help the tears that roll down my face. “Maybe now you will understand that no child of mine will be a performer in a traveling freakshow. My children are riders; they will serve their country with pride.” My Father’s voice grates against my skin as I watch the one thing I treasure most burn my dreams with it. “Come, Lydia, it’s almost time to go.” My legs refuse to move, as the pop of the wood makes me jump.

Hearing Colonel Aetos sigh grates my skin, he’s sending me to my death, with a first-born son like Dain, he didn’t need a second child. Correction he didn’t want one. Yet here I sit to his dismay. His feet move quickly as he places his hand in a vice-like grip around my arm; yanking me from the hearth, I writhe in his grasp as he pulls me away as I see what is left of the pink silk turn black. “That’s enough, Lydia.” He pins me against the wall, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to send a message, “You are going to cross that parapet, and join your brother, you are going to become a rider. Do you understand me?”

I school my face into something soft as if my life isn’t being turned upside down, swallowing the tears. “Yes, Colonel,” My voice doesn’t sound like my own, but my mother’s and my father realizes it too as his complexion pales slightly.

Regaining his composure, “Get dressed, back your rucksack and let’s go we are supposed to be in General Sorrengail’s office in 10 minutes.” I jerk out of his grasp and head to my room, trying to even out my breathing. As miserable as it sounds, I’m glad I will have Violet. The two of us have been inseparable for our entire lives. We are both being forced into the Rider’s quadrant today, at the hands of our parents. I tuck my hand under my mattress and pull out a piece of paper. I sit on the edge of my bed and re-read words I have memorized at this point.

My Dearest Lydia,

My little twinkle toes. I’m so sorry, I had to leave. The life your father leads can feel like a cage. I’m suffocating, little one. I cannot be controlled or maintained like a rabid beast. I’m sorry, I know what this means for you, what your father will make you do when you turn twenty. Just know that not a day goes by when I won’t feel guilty for putting you in that cage to take my place. Just know that I love you and if you get anything from this letter. Don’t stop dancing. Whatever you do, continue dancing through this life. Let dance be your escape from the cruelty Basgiath has to offer. I hope one day we will be reunited, and you will have found a way to break out of the chains that hold you in Navarre.

I love you more than you know,

Mom

Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. Every time I read the letter of my heartaches; she knew that the father would force me into the Rider’s quadrant. Why couldn’t she take me with her? Couldn’t we both be free? Why couldn’t she have stayed just long enough for me to find a way for me to pursue my dream? Anger bubbles up in my core, why was she so selfish to fucking leave me here, knowing that I would be sharing the same feelings she had.

Not wanting to keep The Colonel waiting I put on a black, long-sleeved shirt and tightly fitted leather pants from an old riders uniform my father found. I fold the note into a small square and tuck it into my boot, not wanting to risk him finding it. Grabbing my bag, I step out of my room that has been my home for seventeen years of my life and meet my father. As we begin to walk, I shut my eyes and I allow myself one more moment to mourn over the dream I will never be able to fulfill.

Violet and I stare up at the tower familiar with the trek we will have to make to reach the parapet, the first trial we will receive before ever becoming a cadet. Violet takes my hand, “At least we have each other.”

I give her hand a comforting squeeze as we move up the line. “Name,” The lady calls out not bothering to look up from the parchment. Violet moves to talk to the older gentleman as I heave a sigh.

“Lydia Aetos.”

The woman blinks after scribbling down my name and looks up to meet my eyes and I notice the flinch she gives when she notices that they are two different colors. “Are you related to Colonel Aetos?”

I nod my head, “He is my father.” I see Violet is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, “I turn and look at her. “Have a nice day,” I give her the best smile I can, which in turn might be a grimace as I move to meet my friend.

She is conversing with a taller girl, with dark skin and her hair had been pulled back in small rows of braids. Her brown eyes glimmered with excitement as I came closer. The woman paused and tilted her head at me. “Hello,” I give a small wave, shifting under the weight of her gaze.

“Your eyes.” She begins and my mind starts filling in the gaps with words my father has used in the past.

Ugly.

Disgusting.

Defective.

“Beautiful.” The word shakes me out of my spiral of negativity.

“I’m sorry?” I blinked.

“You’re eyes, they’re beautiful. I have read that some are born with two different colored eyes, but to see the beauty of it in person.” She holds out her hand, “Rhiannon Matthias.”

“Lydia Aetos.” Taking her hand and shaking it a genuine smile creeping up on my face.

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m General Melgren, now move. We don’t have all day.” A man’s voice quips behind us. I turn to find piercing blue eyes and a full head of blond hair; he is wearing a scowl that contorts his face into something heinous. He gives me a playful wink, that makes my stomach churn, “Let’s go, Princess.”

Not bothering to give him a response, I turned back to my friend and new acquaintance. The three of us begin our ascent up the stairs. The smaller man in front of us- Dylan- keeps babbling about how excited he is to be in the Rider’s quadrant. As he and Rhinannon discuss their dreams and goals, I let my mind wander.

Twirling across the stage, each pirouette clean and precise just as Seraphina has taught me. My tulle skirts billowing around me like a shield. I don’t need to remember the next move, the music seeps into my bones and as if in response my body knows what to do next. I grin as the warmth of all the mage lights, illuminating the stage, kisses my skin. Twirling into a solid form, Large tan hands grip my waist as my partner steps in time with the beat.

We move as one as he spins hoisting me up in the air. I am certain my toes are pointed, and my arms are sharp in an elegant pose. I feel myself being lowered and looked at my partners face, familiar hazel eyes and a toothy grin in plain view, twirling me once more to the crescendo of the music and when my twirls end, He dips me low, my one leg stretched out in between his, the other bent my foot tucked behind my knee cap. His forehead presses mind as my arms move around his neck in time with the end notes of the music. My eyes close as the smell of Cinnamon, Vanilla waft my nose, as the thunderous applause ruptures through the theater. Lips press against mine and I can’t help the giggle that erupts from my throat.

“Lydia.” His warm voice calls for me.

“Lydia. Lydia.”

“Lydia!” Violet shouts giving me a shove, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look to see that Rhiannon and Dylan are giving me looks of concern. I pressed my hand to my cheek to find them wet with tears. Shit. Violet’s eyes held worry and an undertone of understanding. “You were thinking about him again, weren’t you?” She whispers low enough only I can hear, as our hike up the concrete steps was nearing a close as the daylight was beginning to peak through.

“Yeah. I guess I’m missing everyone a little more today.” It’s a severe understatement that I’m making but Violet has her own things to worry about, no need to add more to her plate.

Violet, Dain, and I grew up together, she is basically my sister in all forms of the word. We have been inseparable, even more so when Brennan died and Dain left last year for the Rider’s quadrant, me, and her against the world we always teased. I never felt that more now, she gripped my hand in hers and gives me a squeeze as if she is thinking the same thing. “Thank you for always being there when I need, you Vi.”

Violet snorted, causing Rhinannon to turn and smirk, I look down at her feet briefly and notice the woman has one of Violet’s shoes and Violet in turn has one of her slippers on her feet. When did they do that? Violet’s voice causes me to face her, “You sound like you’re going to die today.”

“I am pretty sure that was the plan.” I murmur as Dylan and Rhiannon reach the top of the stairs. “He wants me dead, Vi.”

“Too bad. You and I. We are not going to die today, Lydia.” Violet was the first to reach the open expanse of the turret. The breath of fresh air is welcome to the stench of sweat and body odor. The warmth of the sun kisses my skin, a large gust of wind whipping my hair across my face. Violet seeing this her eyes widen. “I almost forgot. In my bag there is a little gift from Mira.” I quickly open her bag and pull out a package with my name on it and a little note.

Hey Kid,

A little gift from your favorite sibling. Don’t roll your eyes, you know it’s true!

Just something that can keep that crazy mane of yours up and to remind everyone not to mess with you.

Mira

Unwrapping package to reveal two long gold hair pins, little gold dragons at one end the pointed end sharp as knives. “I love your sister; did you know that?”

Violet laughs as I shut her bag and quickly put my hair in a tight bun. “You and me both.” There is a pause as we make our way closer to beginning. “I’m looking forward to seeing Dain.”

I roll my eyes, about to retort when a man’s voice, “You ready for the next one, Riorson.”

I pause my movements, my hands still in my hair, looking at the broad chest in front of me my eyes trail up and I am met with a set jaw and alluring onyx eyes, and in the light little gold flecks shine through. I roll my shoulders and drop my hands from my hair. His eyes graze my body and back up to my eyes and shiver down my spine. “Aetos, Sorrengail, you two, okay?” Pulling away from the man’s magnetic gaze, I meet Rhiannon’s stare. I dip my chin in silent confirmation.

“Sorrengail and Aetos?” The low rumble of Xaden Riorson voice pulls my attention back to him. This man is the definition of beauty, his sharp jawline, high cheekbones, even with the scar cutting across his brow that drags down to the top of his cheek bone. His tan skin gleams with perspiration from the midday sun no doubt, and I catch a glimpse a tattoo on the side of his neck that disappears with the neckline of his shirt. The clearing of his throat makes me meet his eyes once more. There is a knowing smirk on his face, and he quirks an eyebrow, “Like what you see, Sweetheart?”

I remain silent and avert his stare. “You’re Fen Riorson’s son.” Violet’s voice sounds from behind me.

“You’re General Sorrengail’s Daughter.” He retorts, “Your mother had my father executed.”

I can feel Violet’s anger bubbling behind me. “Your father killed my brother I think that makes us even.”

Xaden snorts, “Hardly.” That perks my head up, to find his eyes were already on me. He tilts his head his eyes assessing me, like I’m a prize mare, “And you. I wasn’t aware that Dain Aetos had a little sister. He never talks about you.”

I bite my lip the only indication I give that his words bother me, “I can’t say. I’m surprised.”

Xaden takes a step forward and try to focus on the floor once more, “Why’s that, Kitten?” A finger hooks under my chin forcing me to meet his gaze and my heart rate quickens, out of fear or sheer arousal, I’m not sure.

One thing I do know: This man is dangerous. Yet I fall for his beautifully set trap and answer honestly, knowing I should not give him any of my weaknesses, “No one likes talking about the disappointment in the family.” For extra measure I take a step back, away from his touch and he lets me, dropping his hand.

“Hurry it up. Some of us are becoming riders today.” The ass hole from before speaks, his words grating my skin. A distant scream comes from the death trap in front of me. When looking over to the parapet I no longer see Dylan and my heart sinks. Rhiannon is still moving, and Violet begins to walk across dark storm clouds rolling in followed by a rumble of thunder. Fucking. Wonderful.

Xaden chuckles and I meet his stare, “Good luck, Kitten.” He gestures for me to the entry point of the parapet.

I glare at him, flaring my nostrils, “My name is Lydia.”

He smirks, “I think my name suits you better.”

I don’t know how the dagger got in my hand but the minute I throw it, the steel passing about 3 people before it hits its mark. The dagger sinks into the crack of the concrete a half an inch from the jack ass who has been making smart ass comments all morning’s shoes. Looking back at those gold flecked onyx eyes I give him a wink, “I think you’ll find, it doesn’t.”

The guy next Xaden laughed, “Looks like the kitten has claws. I hope you make it, Aetos,” He nods his head and I begin to walk. The drop of rain pelts my skin the moment I take my first step. When I take the next few steps, the sky opens as rain cascades down. I can hear Seraphina’s instructions in my ears.

Arms out, straighten that back. Get into second position.

I straighten my posture and extend my arms out, placing my feet outwardly giving myself the optimal balance and proceed to move. I focus on Violet’s pack in front of me as I keep moving. I imagine myself on stage, the music once again whisking me away. The low rumble of drums meets the contrasting sounds of the piccolo and various string instruments to create a melody that makes my movements lighter. I trust in my training, my balance, the music that for years kept me rooted. The music drowns out the sound of the rain colliding against the brick. My mind transforms the stage into a whimsical forest, and I am balancing on a fallen tree trunk to reach for my lover on the other side. His smile warm as the lights pressing against my skin. I’m not in old leather, I’m in a white gown with billowing layers that makes it easier to move in when I dance.

I twirl my feet finding purchase on the log once I complete the spin with flawless precision. A smile emerges on my face as I gear up for my flip the finishing move, I need to do before reaching the halfway point to him. I run and leap, my legs flipping over my head with the elegance of a gazelle. Landing with a pointed toe and my arms reaching for the sky my balance slips slightly but not enough to keep me from moving toward my goal. To keep me from returning to his arms. I allow myself a glance at his eyes and his face contorts into something unrecognizable, evil.

“I’m coming to get you, Twinkle Toes.” The voice is not his and I blink as the music abruptly stops and the reality, I am in comes crashing forward. The cool kiss of rain rakes a chill down my body. The voice came from behind me. I turn to find the blonde from earlier coming at me with full speed. The person that was behind me in line is blocking him from me and still is a good distance aways. That does not deter the Blonde-haired menace, as he grips the arm of the girl and throws her off. My eyes widen and my instincts overtake my body and I sprint. I focus ahead of me and try to think of music that would be appropriate for this. Something fast paced with horns and fast-paced drums, trying to keep my mind on anything besides the absolute menace behind me.

I can hear his footsteps thudding over the pattering of the rain and I quicken my base trusting in the traction of my boots. I can see the end and Violet reaching it. The is gaining on me and I have enough distance that I pause, briefly and take the risk I prep for my jump and slip. Regaining my balance and looking back to see he is still far enough for me to recover. I get in position once more and take a deep breath.

I will not die today.

I sprint into a run once more and when I have enough distance I take my leap, my feet pointed, my back arched in perfect form even Seraphina wouldn’t have anything to say. When I land the ground is slick and I lose my footing. Fortunately, Violet is there to hold me still. “Lydia! We made it!”

I nod and turn to the cadet with bright red hair, she smirks, “Name.”

“Lydia Aetos.”

“Welcome to the Rider’s Quadrant, Lydia. That was one hell of a performance.”

I walk further down the steps and notice that Violet winces, “Let’s get you taken care of.” I loop her arm in mine before we are both grip in a bone crushing hug.

“We did it!” Rhiannon beams and she looks at me, “You definitely made a name for yourself, what you did on the parapet was amazing.”

“What did I do?”

Violet blinks, “You’re kidding.” Before Violet could elaborate.

“Name.”

“Jack Barlow.” His eyes meet mine and there is a snarl on his face. The look promises one thing. Trouble. Thankfully he stalks in the other direction

“Lydia.” Only one man’s voice makes me groan knowing a lecture is brewing, I turn and see Dain standing there his mouth formed in a tight line, his eyes shift over to the silver haired woman next to me and his face shifts into shock, “Violet?”

Violet smiles, “Hi Dain,” Dain looked to his left then to his right before he grips both Violet’s and mine’s wrist and drags us away from Rhiannon.

“Dain,” I hiss, “She’s hurt take it easy.”

As if on cue Violet begins to dry heave. “Shit.” Dain mutters as he takes her to a bench hidden in an alcove where no one could see. “What the hell are you doing here, Violet?” As he tucks her head between her knees.

“General Sorrengail, refuses to have a scribe in her family. Like someone else we know.”

“Scribe is a respectable job. Dancing is not.” Dain deadpans and I clench my fist. A hand touches my shoulder causing me to jump. “What the hell were you thinking, Lydia? Dancing on the parapet like that?”

I blink, and clear my throat, “I didn’t realize that is what I did. I was trying to put myself in my happy place. To keep me from over thinking about what I was doing. My instincts went into overdrive.”

“What you did was showboat and it’s going to cause me problems.” He scowls at me, and I get a good look at him at him, he’s grown a beard since I last saw him. But he still has our father’s brown eyes, and his hair cut short and his curls sitting atop his head. “What?”

“I can’t look at my older brother. I’m fine by the way, thanks for asking.” He rolls his eyes and presses me into a hug.

“Sorry.” He murmurs in my hair as he notices the new pins, “Let me guess.”

“Mira.” Violet, Dain and I say at the same time.

Dain smiles, “They suit you.” His small drops, “You must promise to never do what you did again. There are only two rules that I need you to follow, I expect you to follow them. No talking about dance, or dancing and stay away from Xaden Riorson.”

“Noted.” I rolled my eyes, “Glad to see somethings never change.” Dain sighs and moves back to Violet.

I felt a hand gripped my shoulder causing me to jump, “It’s just me.” Rhi’s voice calms me as she gives my shoulder a comforting squeeze, “I wanted to swap shoes back.”

Dain looks between Violet’s shoes and glares at Violet. “Make it snappy.” He glares at Rhiannon, “Who are you?”

Rhiannon looks between me and Violet, “I am their friend.” She slips off Violet’s boot and sighs in reprieve as Violet removes the slipper from her foot and grabs her boot, which Dain helped her put it on.

“I am a squad leader.” He looks over to me and Rhi. “You two go tell the red head recording names that you three are going to be in my squad. I’m going to help Violet and will be right back.” I nod my head and turn on my heal.

“Is that your brother?” Rhi asks.

“Yup.”

“He is something.”

“Tell me about it.” I sigh

We have been placed in our squads. I’m grateful that Violet and I ended up together and not in Xaden’s Wing. Not a fan of the fact that he is one of my superiors. His eyes meet mine and he smirks, those eyes look at me like a predator watching his prey. He whispers to our wingleader and then. “Second Wing Flame Section, you will be moving to Fourth Wing.” My stomach sinks, avoiding the stare of my new wingleader.

“Cadets, move.” Dain commands his jaw sets the only indication that he is upset. We move to where our new wing is standing as the one that is now apart of Second Wing move to where we were just standing.

Once everyone settles Xaden begins to speak. I try to zone him out as best as I can, exhaustion is beginning to take over my body. The adrenaline from crossing over the parapet but his voice rings out, “You all feel pretty bad ass don’t you,” Cheers erupt around me and Xaden nods, “Feeling invincible?” I do not feel that way. “You think you’re worthy of a dragon.” More cheers erupted and Xaden crossed his arms. The sound of thunder erupts.

No. Not thunder.

Wings.

As if on Xaden’s cue a horde dragons’ approach, the noise begins to build as a regal blue dagger tail lands on the edge of the wall as if it’s a perch for them. Her claws dig into the brick, pieces crumbling down under her weight. I notice the cadets around me are frozen in fear. A few were shaking and their pants had dark spots that trailed down their legs. Terror racks through my body but I focus on my breathing.

Thump, Thump

The blood curdling scream of another cadet rattles me as a young man from the first wing runs heading back toward the parapet. The dragons all shift as a few more cadets scatter. I blink and feel hands around my waist tugging me down before the dragons unfurl their tongues and fire erupts from all different angles. The hands around me tug me close to the lean chest and I place my own hands around the mystery person’s, their fingers lacing theirs through mine I squeeze my eyes shut as anguish screams fill my ears and will certainly give me nightmares. The fire ceases and the smell of burnt flesh is left in its wake. The figure behind me moves and helps me up. I turn around hoping I would see Dain’s face behind me.

Thump, Thump

Instead, I am met with warm brown eyes and a goofy grin. A man with tan skin, a curly mop of brown hair and handsome face looks back at me, “You, okay?”

I nod my hand, “Thank you…” I lead of.

He holds out his hand, “Ridoc Gamlyn.”

I took his hand, “Lydia Aetos.”

Before Ridoc can comment on my name Dain turns, “Quiet both of you.” Ridoc Mimics him and causes me to giggle as Xaden continues his speech.

“Anyone still feel invincible now?” He questions his brow quirking as his eyes loom over the entire Quadrant, locking onto mine.

Thump, Thump.

My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. His eyes pin me to the floor incapable of moving. Out of the corner of my eye I see the blue dagger tail moving her head back and forth. It’s the gasp of the crowd that pulls me from Xaden’s gaze.

Thump, Thump.

The blues dragon takes a step down and my squad parts to make room for her. Her yellow eyes are looking directly at me as she takes another step forward. Dain’s face paled as he watches on, but its movement to my left that catches my attention. Xaden moves from where he is standing, his face is unreadable. It’s the quaking step of the dragon in front of me and my heart rate quickens as her yellow eyes take me in.

Thump, Thump, Thump

Despite the paralyzing fear, that I may very well die in the next few seconds I take in the creature before me. Her large horns curve on the top of her head. Her scales up close shimmer with various hues of blue and hints of black near the base of her scales, which makes her eyes stand out. Her nostrils flair, it feels like a challenge, as if she is begging for me to turn and run.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

I will not die today. I take a glance at where Dain is and spot Violet right beside him, terror on her face. She knows dragons better than I do, though I know enough, she knows my rate of survival is potentially slim here. I close my eyes and try to keep my breathing even. My heart erupting in my ears.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

I get down on my knees, my hands remaining at my sides. “What the fuck is she doing?” Jack Barlow’s voice carries over the silence that has fell amongst the court. No one else says a word as I bend forward lowering myself until my forehead touches the cool brick, the small grooves pressed against my skin. I close my eyes and I mentally recite different dance positions in my head trying to ease the fear.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

My breathing begins to even out when I feel the warm steam pressing against my neck. I take the risk and lift my head; the dragon nods her head. Is she giving me the okay to rise? Another dip of her head, and I slowly rise to my feet. As I do I meet her gaze once more, it’s just her and I, the world around us since forgotten. The dragon does something to my surprise, she cranes her neck where the tip of her snout touches the floor. She is bowing to me. The message is clear, a sign of mutual respect.

Thump, Thump.

She raises her head but keeps it low as she cranes her neck out for me. I cannot even see her eyes as she comes near and presses her snout to my chest. The chatter amongst the crowd is indistinguishable. I press my hand to her snout, her scales feel like leather under my touch, a smile forms on my cheeks, fear suddenly turning into elation. “Hello, Beautiful.” My voice was unable to reach above a whisper. She huffs in response and moves back to where she was perched before.

Adrenaline must be widdling from my body fast because I grip Ridoc’s shoulder tightly as my world tilts.

Thump, Thump.

I just survived my first encounter with a dragon.

Chapter 2

Story Tags: @milswrites @eve175 @marvelsmylife @sherayuki @misslady246 @thelov3lybookworm @a-frog-with-a-laptop @randomperson1234sblog @garricks4thwingqueen

#xaden riorson #xaden riorson x oc #xaden x reader #xaden riorson x reader #ridoc fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing #dain aetos #violet sorrengail #slow burn #xaden x oc

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amaranthine-apollo · 5 months ago

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Dainsleif- Abditory

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FANDOM: Genshin Impact

GENRE: Fluff/comfort

WARNING(S): Minor mentions of blood

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“Dain, what happened to you?” Your fingers moved with a featherlight touch against his split skin- droplets of blood that once rolled down his bicep now hard and crusted over one of the various wounds covering his body.

As your words met his ears he only allowed an exhausted groan to flee past his parted lips. His fingers weaved through his tousled hair as he made an attempt to recollect himself. He’d never been a fan of you having to see him in any shape other than well off.

Making quick work you twisted at the waist in order to pluck the roll of bandages you had on your nightstand up. The expensive lamp you’d gotten painting the whole room in a gentle glow of orange, creating a comforting environment despite the stress and worry swimming in your gut.

“Love, I’m fine.” The lie slipped off his tongue with ease, though you knew there was no ill intent in his words. All he wished to do was ease your mind.

“You aren’t fine sweetheart, you’re littered with wounds. Who could have done this to you? What could have done this to you?” Working the gauze around his arm you noticed how the muscle tensed at the pressure applied, a sign that it was still disturbing his comfort.

He never did answer the question as he opted on resting his head against your shoulder, seeking out your warmth as you continued to bandage him up. His breathing was set in a steady unwavering pace and you continued to patch him up. You could only let out a huff at the refusal of answering but didn’t pry, if he wished to tell you later you knew he would.

“Tired, Dain?” Voice growing softer you couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he nodded his head against your neck- soft hair prickling your skin. “I’ve got you then. Please, rest I’ll be done by the time you wake up.”

Craning your head down in a slightly uncomfortable position you quickly pressed a kiss against his temple, his skin feeling much warmer than usual. His arms found their way around your waist as his muscles slowly began to relax.

“..Thank you.”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x yn #genshin fluff #dainsleif #dainsleif x reader #dainsleif x you #fluff #comfort #x reader #x you #x yn #oneshot #writers on tumblr

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angstywaifu · 8 months ago

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The Lost Sister - Part 16

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: Hope you guys are excited, we are about to start diving into Ophelia's signet! Let me know your thoughts on what you think it could be!

The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

As I dismount Mealladh after finishing flight training for the day, I hear Tairn growl. So loud to ground shakes slightly. I look up to see his eyes trained on someone. Dain. And he looks angry, more so than usual. Tairn clearly does not like the sight of him as he bares his teeth at him, saliva pooling on the ground beneath him.

Remind me to never annoy you. I say to Mealladh through the bond.

She chuckles. I will never get that angry at you unless you do something stupid. Which I highly doubt.

My bond with Mealladh was getting strong quickly. We could easily communicate with each other, shield each other out with ease. Even without having taken a single Signet Training class. So far the only one in our squad to show a signet had been Sawyer. He could control metal. Nearly took his opponents arm off in challenges when it manifested. Ridoc had told us the story over one of our meals. He thought it was the coolest thing he had ever seen. When would I get my signet? What would it be? They always said the signet represented the rider. Something about their personality or something to aid them. Something they needed. Every time I had tried to think about what it could be I came up short.

Rhiannon appears next to me as Dain slowly approaches Violet. “What do you think that’s about?”

I shake my head. “No idea. But Dain looks angry and Tairn does not look pleased about it.”

”No he does not.” We both laugh.

As it was our last class of the day we were waiting for Violet. All of us usually headed back to the dorms together before . As Tairn takes off Violet looks over to us and motions for us to leave. She had obviously agreed to talk to Dain.

”Have they talked since threshing?” I ask Rhiannon as we start to walk back down to the Quadrant, Ridoc and Sawyer not far ahead.

She shakes her head. “Don’t think so. She hasn’t mentioned if he has. And she would have.”

I nod. “That could be an interesting conversation they’re about to have then.”

”I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that one.” She adds with a smirk.

”Definitely. He says one wrong thing and she’s gonna rip into him.”

As if on queue I hear loud voices behind me. I turn my head to see they’ve barely made it a few steps and she is already angry at him. Poor boy. But he did this to himself. He’d been trying to baby her, send her to the scribes where he thought she belonged. But Violet had been thriving here despite her the limitations of her body. Hell she had bonded the strongest dragon in the Quadrant. Hell she had gotten two dragons. Something no one had ever seen before. And yet he still saw her as this poor frail girl that needed protection. I was thankful Garrick and Xaden had pretty much looked past that with me. I had made sure to prove I was not the girl they left behind in Aretia. I had grown, I had changed. I had adapted to survive. Not that I had much choice. Though I probably could have refused and ended up dead or locked in a cell. I chose the option that kept me alive. The option that got me back to my family, and as close to home that I could get.

The afternoon sun blinds me for a moment as we walk into the courtyard, busy with other riders now that classes are out for the day. I feel that familiar feeling and look over to see Xaden and Garrick leaning against the Academic Building, as if watching over their domain. Their eyes immediately meet mine.

”So what’s going on with you and Tavis?” Asks Ridoc as we stop just inside the courtyard, waiting for Violet to catch up. “Made it official yet now you’ve done the deed.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

Rhiannon groans and rolls her eyes at him. “Really? You still call sex the deed? How old are you again?”

”Hey I was just trying to be more subtle about it in case anyone was listening.” He defends with his hands raised.

”Then don’t ask in a courtyard filled with almost the entire quadrant?” I bite back a laugh at her sassy remark.

”It’s fine Rhi. But if you must know, not yet.” I tell him bluntly.

”Was-”

”And I am not telling you details.” I say as I cut him off causing Sawyer and Rhiannon to laugh at his annoyed face.

Violet storms into the courtyard, clearly not pleased after her conversation with Dain. I laugh as she looks over at Xaden and gives him the middle finger as he arches an eyebrow at her. He can probably sense her mood through the bond. His gaze flickers to Dain who walks through the archway looking sorry for himself.

”Everything all right?” Rhiannon asks as she walks up to us.

”Dain is an ass -”

”MAKE IT STOP!” Someone screams as they run down the steps at an alarming speed, holding his head between his hands as if he was in pain. Not if. He was in pain.

I don’t know his name, but I know he’s one of the first years in third wing. He sits near us in battle brief.

“For gods, sake, make it stop!” He screams again, stumbling into the courtyard.

Every rider is on alert. Hands hovering over weapons ready to attack. Mine move to the daggers on my thighs. Next to Violet I see Xaden and Garrick move forward in a defensive stance, ready to jump in at a moments notice. The riders slowly creep forward, a circle forming around him. He was manifesting his signet. And something in my gut told me it wasn’t good.

”Jeremiah!” A cadet shouts as they rush forward.

”You!” He yells as he spins towards a third year, pointing his finger at him. “You think I’ve lost it!” The way his eyes flare and the tilt of his head, I don’t blame the third year. All of us are thinking it. “How does he know? He shouldn’t know!”

That’s when it clicks. He’s inntinnsic. The one signet that means instant death. All of our thoughts are open to him. And the thought makes my blood turn cold.

”And you!” He spins around, this time to a second year. “What the hell is wrong with him? Why is he screaming?”

He spins towards Dain. “Is Violet going to hate me forever? Why can’t she see that I just want to keep her alive? How is he…? He’s reading my thoughts!”

I have to give Jeremiah some credit. He mimicked Dain’s tone almost perfectly. I look over at Violet to see she looks just as terrified as the rest of us. Xaden and Garrick step forward, shoving Ridoc aside as they move up next to Violet and I who were at the front of our group. Everyone grasps their weapons as Jeremiah unsheathes his shortsword.

”Make it stop! Can’t any of you see? The thoughts won’t stop!” He’s panicking.

”Xaden. You need to do something.” I say sternly, dagger now gripped in my right hand.

He nods before turning to Violet. “Start mentally reciting whatever bookish shit you’ve learned.”

She looks at him confused.

He looks at both of us. “If you value your secrets, clear your thoughts. Now.”

Shit. I quickly slam up my shield as hard as I can. Try to recite what ever useless information I can as well.

”And you!” My heart drops as his eyes lock onto Garrick. “Damn it all to hell. He’ll know about Are-” He barely gets his sentence out before Xaden’s shadows wrap around his mouth, silencing him.

All I can do is stare at Jeremiah. To anyone else Are could have been anything. Could have been any word. But with Xaden’s reaction, I know its not nothing. Something in my heart knows what he was about to say. He was about to say Aretia. My home. Our home. That was destroyed years ago. But why would Garrick have been thinking about it.

Something tugs in my mind. And it isn’t Mealladh. It’s as if something else is there. I focus how Melgren had taught me. I’m in the courtyard back in Aretia. My home. To my left is the throne room door, where I can see Mealladh’s red and white presence glowing around the door I’ve shut off. But at the end of the courtyard is something else. Another presence wrapped in… black shadows? Just like Jeremiah was now. Something in me is calling to pull at it, investigate. I feel my left hand twitch as if wanting to tug on it. I’m so focused on it I don’t even see the professor rush towards Jeremiah. My left hand flexes as my mind tugs on the presence in my courtyard in my head. But as I do so the professor grips his head and a crack echoes off the walls. But I hear it louder in my head as the presence disappears as well as the shadows. Everyone’s so focused on the professor and Jeremiah to notice my recoil. Everyone except for two. As I snap out of it I look over to see Xaden and Garrick staring at me wide eyed. Their eyes darting between me and the floor. Underneath my foot is a deep but short crack. One that was definitely not there before. I can tell from the slight scorch mark and power radiating from it. They go to start towards me but I push through the crowd and use my size to get away before they can get to me. Yet again I am running away as Garrick calls my name from behind me. Part 17 Tag List: @riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #the empyrean #the fourth wing #garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis imagine #garrick tavis x oc

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heaven-s-black-box · 11 months ago

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Do it Better- Dainsleif x fem!Reader

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Recovery date: December 21st, 2023

Description: Sometimes someone else does it better.

Includes- No plot, ambiguous relationship, masturbation, a dildo, fingering, eating out, slight voyeurism, overstimulation, creampie

Notes: Thank you to my friend who beta read this.

Word count: 1 370

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Y/n whines, arching her back off the bed, as she screws her eyes shut. Coordination is hard when you’re on the verge of cumming, especially when you’re sensitive. The closer she gets the harder it is to keep pumping the dildo in and out of her dripping cunt, even worse as her grip keeps slipping, and rubbing her clit at the same time. Her arms burn with exhaustion and her breathing quickens as she tries to keep going.

Just a little more. Just a little-

Her thighs press together as she rocks her hips forward into her hand as the rest of her body refuses to move. She takes in deep, shuddered breaths, as she’s left woefully unsatisfied once more.

She lets out a frustrated groan, whining as she removes the dildo and it brushes against her sensitive clit.

If only her stupid… whatever he was, was here this wouldn’t be a problem. Dain had no problem holding her down and fucking her into overstimulation, in fact, he loved it. But he was off archons know where, and she was left with puny toys and her own personal limitations.

Neither she nor Dain particularly care for the archons, but as a gentle breeze ruffles the curtains over her open window she can only hope that it will carry her wish and bring him back.

Y/n is just about to start cleaning herself up, when a shadow appears behind her curtains. It sits there for a moment, watching her, and she lets out a shaky breath as she runs her fingers over her clit. The short break let some of the sensitivity wear off, but her legs still twitched as she ran slow circles over the nerves.

A soft chuckle carried in from behind the curtains as she dipped a finger into her cunt.

“Fuck you,” she sighed.

She bent one leg, the one further from the window, and added a second finger and began slowly pumping them in and out. They weren’t reaching deep enough like this, and so she pulled them out and went back to running slow circles over her clit.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Dain said as he climbed into the room. “You look upset, how, unlike you.”

“Can’t… can’t cum right,” she gasped, circling her fingers faster and arching off the bed once more.

“You seem to be doi-”

Her hand suddenly stopped moving as she rolled over onto her side and squeezed her thighs together as she looked up at him with teary eyes.

“Please… want it to hurt.”

Dain sighed as he unclipped his cloak and threw it over a nearby chair with his gloves before crawling over top of Y/n. He gently nudged her thighs open and brought her hand to his lips where he licked it clean– tongue pressed flat as it dragged from wrist to the tips of her fingers.

“So picky.” He carefully rolled her onto her back and settled between her legs. “And needy.” Once he was settled, he began to lick her inner thighs clean, earning himself a content sigh. “Can’t make yourself cum right, need me to break you… maybe I should spank you.”

Y/n laced her fingers into his hair and gave a sharp yank, making him look up at her.

“I know,” he laughed. “I was just kidding.”

At that, Y/n loosened her hold on his hair so that he could bury his face into her cunt. She moaned softly, clawing at Dain’s scalp for some way to ground herself as her heels dug into the bed and she tried to squirm away. The gentle pressure and flicks as he cleaned up her mess from earlier quickly became too much and she began to trip over her words as she warned him that she was about to cum.

On any other day it would be a toss up on whether he would pull away or go down on her harder, but not today. Today, he tightened his grip on her hips to pull her closer and began to gently suck on her clit. Her words became decreasingly coherent as she scrambled to push his head away on instinct, but unlike when she was pleasuring herself– she couldn’t make him stop.

The knot in her abdomen snapped, and her head fell back as her mouth opened in a choked cry and her eyes rolled back. Her grip in Dain’s hair tightened to the point her knuckles turned white and her nails dug into her palms, making him groan as he continued running his tongue through her folds.

They took a moment to catch their breaths, and then Dain carefully began to lick up the new mess. Y/n’s legs twitched everytime his tongue brushed her clit.

“Want you to fill me up,” Y/n mumbled as Dain pushed back onto his knees and pulled his vest and shirt off.

With heavy arms, Y/n slowly reached out and grazed her fingers against the corruption on his skin. He sat there for a moment, watching her eyelids droop as the exhaustion from three orgasms began to hit her.

“Are you sure you can stay awake for that?”

“Ya… I mean you won’t be here tomorrow to help me.” She pushed herself up onto her elbows and slid her hand up his chest to cup his jaw. “Let me enjoy this.”

“Suit yourself,” he whispered, then leaned in to kiss her.

Awkwardly, the two finished stripping Dain of his clothes as they made out and Dain worked her open with his fingers. Dain’s fingers left sticky prints on her skin as he gripped her hips to line himself up once he was bare.

He ran his fingers through her folds one last time, running tight circles over her clit and laughed as her legs twitched and more slick gushed out, so that he could lube himself up. Y/n let out a frustrated whine.

“What do we say?” He teased, rubbing his tip against her clit and letting it barely slip into her hole.

Digging her feet further into the mattress, Y/n pulled herself up and grabbed Dain by the back of his neck so he would fall back with her. His jaw went slack and his eyes widened in shock as he was pulled off balance, barely reacting in time to stop himself from crushing her.

“Fuck me until I pass out.”

“You certainly have a way with words,” he grinned before pushing in with no other warning.

Y/n gasped, and the hand on Dain’s neck dug into his skin. Her other arm wrapped around his back as well when he began thrusting into her at a rapid pace, far faster than she could ever manage and far deeper than she could reach. Red lines streaked across Dain’s back as Y/n clawed away at it.

“Not- enough,” she gasped as she tried to grind her hips up against his pelvis.

“Look at you,” he cooed, sliding a hand between them as the other pressed her hips into the bed. He began running slow circles against her clit, keeping her on edge as he tried to find her g-spot. “So on edge you can’t do anything but sit here and take my dick.”

“Ah!” Y/n yelped suddenly, thighs clamping around his hips. “There! Too much, too much!”

“Want me to stop?” He chuckled, sitting up onto his knees and hissing as Y/n’s nails scratched against his back.

“Don-Ah!”

Dain began to rub at her clit faster, cutting her off and causing her to arch back off the bed as all of her muscles tensed.

Once again, her eyes rolled back. She shuddered, squirting and clamping down on Dain’s dick as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm. Choked sounds left Y/n’s lips as they slowly devolved into pathetic whimpers and she tried again to move away from him. But with a strong hold, he buried himself as deep as he could and came, letting his forehead drop against hers.

“Was that enough for you,” he panted, before lifting his head up and opening his eyes only to find Y/n already fast asleep. “Everytime…”

#locked entries #genshin impact #genshin impact dainsleif #dainsleif #dainsleif x reader #x reader #female reader #dainsleif smut #genshin impact smut #smutshot #smut

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themonotonysyndrome · 26 days ago

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hello, lovely lady!

i truly hope you’re doing well, and im sure you know this, but your work is much appreciated, but please please take care of yourself!

with that being said, even though i’ve seen previous head-cannons, do you think it would be possible if we sort of got an updated head-cannon of how Cecila and Castin will parent their children when they’ve reacher their teen years? just curious. 🙃

please don’t feel obligated to indulge me or do such, and as always have a fantastic day/evening.

💖🤍

It's the awesome addie! Hello, hello!

I'm okay—well, as alright as I can be. I'm very happy that you enjoyed my writing, and that's enough to make me feel so much better!

Ah... teenagehood. I was a pretty chill teenager—moody but pretty tamed. I was more into writing than doing sports, lol. But let's check out what Celica and Castin are like as parents raising their teenage twins!

Headcanons where Dain & Deirdre are teenagers & how Castin and Celica raise them:

This may come across as surprising, but it's Castin's that's gonna be a low-key helicopter parents 😂

Castin is very invested in Dain & Deirdre's life. What's the tea at school? Any dramas between friends? Any crushes? 👀 Any new hobbies?

While Celica is also interested in their children's daily lives, she only asks how they fare in their studies and if they've been keeping up with their etiquette training, which their governess would report to her directly. Unfortunately, after giving birth, the Baroness is busier than ever.

This isn't to say that Castin is also not busy with his patrols and hunting down any signs of rebels, but unlike Celica, who's actually at home, he would keep in touch with the twins via letters and calls even when he's on the other end of Intacia.

Castin habitually announces ridiculous rules for the twins during dinners every other week! EX: "Neither of y'all are allowed to talk more than 100 words to your crushes." And the next week would be "Don't spar with the opposite gender! Oh, wait - " Yeah, the twins learned to just ignore the rules, lol.

As for Celica, though? She has only one rule for the twins: "Do not tarnish the Anesidora name." Now, this might seem cold, and while the twins absolutely hate it, believing that their own mother is more concerned about their family's reputation than her own damn kids that she nearly died giving birth for, Celica's rule is actually a test to see if the twins are good at deception and finding loopholes on doing any anything that she doesn't like behind her back. Because if they can pull it off? That means they're on the way to inherit her position, and that's what Celica has been waiting for.

Now! Teenage rebellions!

"Don't worry, baby. Big Daddy Caddy is on it! He knows a thing or two about stopping rebellions!"

"Please do not tackle our children to the ground as if they are criminal."

"Pfft - I won't, I won't!"

Each of the twins acts out in different manner but most often, their attitudes are directed at their mother. Dain's acts of rebellion are more... subtle. Avoiding eye contact when Celica is talking to him, refusing to smile in her presence, purposely scrapping his cutleries onto the plates when eating, creating an ear-piercing sound and etc. Deirdre is a lot more of an outburst. She would skip lessons, walk away in a middle of the conversation, and getting in a shouting match with Celica because all she cares about is asking about their progress, not how they really are.

Of course this isn't true as Celica is only thinking about their future and of course, every time her children lash out at her, she feels hurt but then she would react in ways that was ingrained to her since childhood - stoic face, silent and retreat to her office for several days.

Those are the moments where Castin had to mediate between them and always remind their twins to be patient with their Mum and try to think about things in her perspective. The only reason they could act freely as teenagers and not would-be politician or hell, even consuming poison are because the Baroness constantly serve as a 'shield' for the twins in high society.

Every mistakes they made in public, every blunder they offend a household would immediately smooth out by the Baroness.

That's her form of love. Castin knows this after being married to her for so many years but the twins don't understand that.

She's hard on them because the world was cruel to her growing up. She's awkward in showing affections because her Ezekiel, Eaton and Tristan keeps her at arms-length due to their status.

She's a damn good Baroness and she hopes that in time, she'll be a worthy mother to Dain and Deirdre.

#monotony's rambling #desmond asmr #headcanons #castin hammer #baroness (oc)

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garricks4thwingqueen · 3 months ago

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request for some Dain x reader hurt/comfort please. i like what you had alluded to in rebellious secrets with Dain comforting her while Garrick was in war games.

You're My Sunshine Dain Aetos X Reader

Synopsis: So this kinda strayed from the original Dain comfort idea that I posted for this request. Reader is Liam Mairi’s older twin sister who is battling her struggle with grief while back in Aretia after the battle of Resson and losing Liam. Dain comes to aid in comfort for his favoriter rebel.

Word Count 1314

Trigger Warnings: Anxiety/Depression mentions as well as Panic Attacks, Nightmares, Grief, loss of a sibling (Liam I'm Sorry guys 🙁), kind of self-doubt?

Y/N POV

You were at home in Aretia with 100’s of cadets that decided to fight for the right reason after you and the other’s had returned from the battle at Resson. You had returned with all of the current rebels at Basgiath and Violet as Xaden had interrupted a death roll with all of your names on it. Only a few of those names had rang true which one had included your younger twin brother Liam Mairi. You remembered scanning the squads to see Dain Aetos’s face when you locked a glance with him it was full of sympathy but only for you. Dain had become an unexpected source of comfort for you during your first year at Basgiath War College. You wanted to run to him then but couldn’t. You wanted to run to him as Violet and Xaden encouraged other riders to come to Aretia.

And to your surprise a large number of cadets and their dragons did. Even Dain even though his rep with the other rebels was well below tolerable. But you were still home, with your younger sister Sloane, with Dain, with your friends, with the other cadets and even some Gryphon riders; but your anxiety mixed with panic attacks and horrible nightmares had been on the rise since you lost your younger twin brother in the battle. You’ve cursed Malek a million times since then. You had refused to let Xaden and Garrick burn his things. You were going to make sure that you were going to be there for Sloane. She was so young, just barely 20 this year and had gone through so much; just like you had. First it was losing your parents, then it was being separated in separate foster homes; you were placed in a home with Garrick which you both know had been the furthest from the others, at least Liam had been with Xaden; but Sloane you had no idea where she had been placed until you were reunited with her before coming back to Aretia. So why the hell were you still waking up at 3 a.m. from nightmares and panic attacks. You were pretty sure your dragon Dierdre was going to leave you for being a complete mess.

Dain’s POV

I was jolted awake at 3 a.m. as Cath’s voice ran through my head again: Diedre’s girl needs you. He said softly. I sprang out of bed and haphazardly tossed on a pair of black sweatpants and quietly walked down the hall to Y/N’s room. At this point I didn’t even bother knocking; this had become an almost natural occurrence after she lost her younger twin Liam. “Hey.” I said softly while opening the door quietly. My heart ached as I saw Y/N in tears, her chest up to her knees in her oversized shirt which I had realized was mine. “Hey.” she managed to get out through sniffles. “I’m here.” I said softly sitting on her bed next to her gently.

“What do you need?” I asked softly as there were times she wanted to be held and times she just needed me there. “Hold me please.” She sniffled. I nodded and pulled her into me and wrapped my arms around her tightly; as we sat in silence for several minutes. Over her first year at Basgiath we had been an odd pair seeking comfort for each other. I was colonel Aetos’s son and she was a rebel’s child. A relationship of which my father would never approve, hell even Garrick Tavis, her foster brother, would probably kill me. But that was the problem. I wanted our relationship to grow but I even knew she was in a rough place right now and I wasn’t going to do anything too fast to lose everything with her entirely. Hell even with how broken she had been at the loss of her brother when returning to Basgiath she still willingly took my hand to her face; which was the consent I needed to use my signet to see everything her and her friends had been through. How Liam died; and that was the second I dropped my hand down from her face not wanting to lose her trust and that was the first time I held her like this after Liam’s death.

“Dain.” She sniffled several minutes later pulling me from my thoughts. “Hmmm.” I replied in content. “Thank you.” She said turning slightly in my lap so she could look up at me. I chuckled softly. “For what? You don’t have to thank me.” “For comforting me. For being here for me. For last year when you intercepted Barlowe in the hallway for degrading me for being a rebel. For-” I sighed, cutting her off. “Y/N.” I said softly. “Anyone would have shut him up for verbally attacking you like that. You maybe a rebel but that doesn’t define who you are, who your brother was or who the others are and even Sloane. No, you're the exact opposite of what Barlow was saying to you. Your sunshine just like your brother was. You're soft and caring and those are just a few reasons why I love you.” whipped. Cath cackled in my head as I replied with a shove it. I had immediately regretted the words leaving my mouth when she didn’t reply for several seconds which had felt like minutes.

Y/N POV

“You-you love me?” You managed to stutter at your wingleader when the words finally processed. You felt Dain’s arms tighten around you. “I’ve loved you since the second I wanted to punch Barlow’s throat out in August last year.” You could tell he was worried that he just spilled out his true feelings for you, afraid of losing you.

“Dain Aetos.” You said cupping his cheek. “I love you too.” “Oh thank god.” He breathed. You giggled as your lips connected with Dain’s for the first time; his calloused hands running smoothly up and down your arms. It’s about time. Now Cath and I don’t have to hide our feelings for each other. Diedre chidded in your head as you pulled away from Dain in shock by your dragon’s admission. “Diedre just-” “Yeah Cath too.” Dain chuckled. “He's been making fun of me for it since last year. “So does that mean we have-?” “Mated Dragons. Yeah I think so.” Dain chuckled, pulling you against him tightly. Dain? You tried speaking mentally. I’ve got you my sunshine. Whenever you need me I’ll be right here even if we aren’t in proximite distance. I love you. You smiled softly burying your face in his chest. I love you too. Thank you for loving me.

Dain chuckled. “I told you Y/N you don’t have to thank me. Caring for you comes naturally. I’m just glad you're finally mine.” “I’m yours.” You repeated. “Dain?” You asked nervously. “Yeah?” “What about your father?” We will burn that bridge when it comes to it. But you are the only thing that matters to me. What would Liam think?” You thought for a second before answering: “I think Liam would be smiling down on us right now. I think he's going to be our light guiding us through every hurdle we are going to have to take but most importantly; I think he’d want to say thank you for taking care of his big sis.” Dain chuckled a sigh at that and gods it was the sexiest thing that you’ve ever heard. “You Mairi’s like that phrase way too damn much you know that?” You giggled, shaking your head. “Our parents were big on manners.” You teased and added; “Hey Dain?” “Yeah.” He chuckled. I love you. Please don’t leave me ever. You had said softly down your new bond. I love you to my sunshine. I’ll always be by your side.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! I have two more requests coming soon!

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #liam mairi #dain aetos

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shipmistress9 · 4 months ago

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Made to Order - 4

AN: Oh, look. That plan I mentioned with four big plot points for 'chapter two'? Yeah, it turned into four separate chapters after all. How… very not surprising. 😂

Previous Chapter AO3

. o O o .

When my phone pings with a new message, I flinch. I can’t help it. It’s been like this for three days now, ever since Violet was here again and I made an utter fool of myself.

With every message I receive, I expect her to call me out on my inexcusable behaviour. That I’m acting unprofessional if she’s being gentle or that I’m a creep if she’s being brutally honest. I don’t think she’d cancel the order, not after my official account received a generous down payment from a Dain Aetos. But she could refuse to meet in person again, and I couldn’t even blame her for it. Maybe it would be better that way anyway. No more chances for me to get entangled even deeper in this mess.

Studiously, I keep kneading a fresh batch of gum paste and ignore both the phone and my ever-spiralling thoughts. They can’t lead anywhere anyway.

After a few more minutes, the paste is smooth enough even for Liam’s taste, and I stow it away into the fridge, wrapped up air-tight, of course. At the rate Liam is currently modelling one flower after the other, we’ll need this new batch by tomorrow.

“Do you need help here?” I ask as I slide into the bench opposite of him, the sturdy work table at the back of the bakery between us covered with modelling tools and countless flowers already drying.

Liam’s lips twitch into a grin, his eyes never leaving the large rose he’s working on. “So desperate for distraction? But sure. Could you prepare a few more petals for this one?”

I quickly check my phone, the message I got earlier, and am relieved to find it’s just another customer confirming an appointment. “No idea what you mean,” I say, absentmindedly placing the phone onto the table next to me.

Liam snorts, knowing how little I enjoy this fiddly work. Give me dough and fillings and let me experiment with aromas and spices. Let me construct a cake with many layers and frosting, built for perfection. I even enjoy decorating the final cake with fondant, more frosting, or various decorations. But making these filigrane decorations? Not my favourite part, and I gladly leave this to Liam. But the least I can do is help as best I can, so I reach for the gum paste the rich colour of orange peel and do my best not to mess it up.

For a while we work in companionable silence, and as always, I’m amazed at how easy Liam makes it look, how realistically his flowers seem, as if they would move if a breeze were to blow by, and how accurately he colours the paste accordingly to the palette Violet gave me, an almost pinkish salmon hue this time. There really is no question about who of us is the artist.

My phone pings again with another message, and even though I see directly that it’s just a confirmation for a delivery, I flinch again. At some point, I will have to face her judgement. It’s only a matter of time.

“Is everything okay with you?”

“Sure,” I reply without looking over to him. He’d see right through me. He probably does, anyway. “Why shouldn’t I be okay?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Liam drawls, pushing the stem of the next finished rose into the styrofoam block. “Maybe because you’ve been incredibly tense and nervous lately. Even more so than usual. I know that something’s bothering you, okay? Don’t even try to deny it.”

He really knows me too well.

I grunt, hoping beyond hope that he’ll drop the topic. I don’t want to talk about this whole mess, wouldn’t even know what to tell him at this point. It’s all just so stupid. Who ever gets a severe crush like this on a customer just from a couple of short interactions? Ridiculous.

“Xaden?”

I sigh and open my mouth, still not sure what to tell him, when the entrance bell to the front room rings.

“I gotta take that,” I say, too relieved about the interruption to wonder who might be coming into the shop. There’s been no appointment today. Or was there? I’m not even sure anymore. Gods, constantly thinking about Violet Sorrengail is really messing with me.

Which becomes even more obvious when I enter the front room and see her standing there by the door when I’m absolutely sure it can’t be real.

I’m such a mess.

I close my eyes and count to five, slowly, giving my mind time to catch up with reality. But when I open my eyes again, she’s still standing there. Her hair perfectly styled into a messy-looking braid that’s hanging over her shoulder, a light dust of make-up making her eyes shine, her lips even more inviting than ever as she once again contemplates all the different cakes with a little smile on her face.

Gods, I’m so fucked.

But at least she came here again and she also doesn’t seem to be angry, a little voice in my head tries to calm me. Isn’t that a good thing?

Swallowing, I quickly rebuild my composure before stepping closer to the counter, into her viewing field. “Violet?” I ask, my voice only slightly quivering. “Did I forget an appointment?”

At my words, she pivots toward me, the smile on her face growing even brighter. “Hey, Xaden. No, ah, we didn’t have an appointment. But I just got the final list and I thought I’d stop by to discuss it? If you have the time now?”

I blink, a bit stunned despite her perfectly normal words. So, she doesn’t hate me? Doesn’t think I was overstepping with how obvious my interest for her must have been? Or didn’t she even notice? Fuck, I wish I could look into her head, know what she’s thinking. “Yeah, sure, now is fine. But you could have just sent it over as well.”

I gesture over to the sitting area, but she shakes her head.

“I don’t have time to stay long and I… Well, I was going for a walk anyway, so I thought… why not stop by in person?” She gives me another heart-stopping smile and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. And in the light reflecting off the floor, it almost looks like there’s a blush on her cheeks. But no, I must be imagining that. It’s just the light. It can’t be real.

Wordlessly, I nod, keeping my eyes on the sheet of paper she places on the counter between us and my hands well out of reach of hers. I can’t afford slipping up again just because she’s standing less than a metre away from me.

“So, the allergies first, I’d say. Dain’s allergic to nuts, of course. I could have told you that as well.”

She chuckles, shaking her head, but I refuse to look at her. Because I know if I do, I’ll lose it. My head is just too full with thoughts like ‘She’s back!’ to really comprehend much else.

“And then someone from the in-laws is apparently allergic to apples?” Violet shrugs, thankfully unaware of my thoughts. “But that’s it there. Ah, and Dain’s mum apparently requested not to use any sugar substitutes. Don’t ask me from which new conspiracy theory that stems.”

“Noted,” I say with a slight smirk, keeping my composed front easier now that we’re back on professional topics.

But also, apparently it’s not just her future father-in-law she doesn’t like, as it seems. Honestly, doesn’t she have any close friends who’re in the right position to talk her out of this wedding? Because if I can see this is not right for her, then… Too bad I’m definitely not in the right position to change her mind, though. I mustn’t. And who am I to judge her decisions anyway.

“No apples and no… uhm, how severely is Dain allergic to nuts? Should I just keep all crunchy brittle and such away from this cake, or are any traces of nuts in, for example, a chocolate frosting a problem already?”

At this, I do look up at her again, after all. I really can’t avoid looking at her for the next two months, so I better get used to it. But, damn, does she look pretty. Even prettier than the last times she was here, it seems. More awake. Happier. Almost glowing even with that true smile on her face.

“No, small traces of nuts aren’t an issue. It’s just whole and untreated walnuts and sometimes hazelnuts that can cause a reaction, but it’s never been life-threatening and chocolate in general never caused a problem.”

I nod. “Okay, that makes things easier.” I read through the following list of possible fillings, sometimes with names behind them. They’re good solid suggestions, enough to pick from—but somehow something is missing. I’m usually a pretty good judge of character when it comes to which cake is someone’s favourite. And even though I don’t really know yet which one I would have picked for Violet… none of these really match. “Well, I can work with these,” I say nonetheless.

Violet lets out a relieved little sigh. “That’s good.” She pushes the list toward me, then steps away, ready to leave.

“Do you want to see a few first flowers for your cake?”

The question is out of my mouth before I can think, and I wish I could slap a hand over my lips to stuff it back in. Yes, I know I don’t want her to leave already. But do I really need to make a fool of myself again?

Grimacing, Violet throws me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I really wish I could. But I’m just on my lunch break and really need to head back.”

Right. She probably has a job somewhere. A whole life, for Dunne’s sake, with a fiancé and all. And I just keep being an idiot over and over again.

“But… I could stop by tomorrow evening? If that doesn’t mess with your schedule? Because I’d really like to see them.”

This time, it is on me to smile. “Yeah, tomorrow evening is fine.”

“Perfect,” she grins. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” I nod.

Violet leaves, but even after she’s gone, long after she’s out of my sight, I still can’t stop grinning. She doesn’t hate me. Maybe, she really didn’t notice my slip-up, after all. Or she’s used to people falling for her left and right. Wouldn’t surprise me with how gorgeous she is.

I take another heartbeat or three to bask in the lightness her visit left in my chest, that fluttering something when she smiled at me, then I head back into the bakery. There are lots of flowers waiting to be made.

As I sit down again, Liam studies me with a strange look. “Okay, now, you have to tell me what’s up with you.”

“What do you mean?” I reply, biting my lip. In my mind, I still can see Violet, hear her laughter. Surely he’s not wondering about me being overly tense anymore?

Liam puts aside the half-finished rose, one in a soft apricot colour this time, and raises both eyebrows at me. “Xaden, you’re smiling. I know you broody and serious and troubled and anxious. I mean, it’s not that I haven’t seen you happy, either. But when you’re visibly happy like this, there’s always a good reason for it. So shoot. What’s up.”

Snorting, I shake my head. He really knows me too well. And he’s right, isn’t he? I’m happy.

I’m happy when there really is no reason to feel that way.

My shoulders drop as do the corners of my mouth, the lightness in my chest evaporating. What’s the point in being happy? Sure, Violet doesn’t hate me, which makes working for her easier. And, of course, I like working with her, it’s easy, fun, simple. I like being with her, around her, like talking to her, listening to her, looking at her.

But that’s the problem. I like it too much. I like it too much when there’s no path that could lead to more. Because I wish there was, no point in denying it. But there never will be.

My lips twitch up into a smile again, but it’s a sad one now. “It’s nothing, Liam. Nothing.”

. o O o .

Since Violet didn’t specify when she would be here, I spent a good time waiting for her in the front room. I probably have other things to do, but somehow I don’t care. All that matters is not missing even one moment of her being here.

When she arrives, my face lights up, I just can’t help it, and I walk to her directly to greet her. There’s that beautiful smile on her face when she sees me, her eyes gleaming with happiness. She lifts her arm as if to hug me in greeting, and for a brief second, I reason with myself that it’s perfectly fine to hug her if that’s what she wants. Everything to make the customer feel welcome. But fuck it. I want to hug her. No other reason needed.

All but brimming with joy and uncalled-for excitement, I lean down to accommodate her—when she brings her hand to the back of my neck and twists her head just so that our lips meet.

For the fraction of a second, I freeze, too stunned to react. She’s kissing me! But then my eyes flutter shut and I give in.

I tilt my head to meet her at a better angle, shuddering at her little mewl as I kiss her back. My lips move with hers, sliding, pressing. My hands landed on her shoulders but now one is moving up to her neck to pull her in even deeper while the other is sliding down, along the curves of her sides, finally settling on her tiny waist. Amari help me, she feels so good beneath my hands, her kiss so sweet. I pull her closer and feel her smile against my mouth before she parts my lips with her own, her tongue seeking mine. I can’t help it and groan into her mouth. This is everything I wanted, everything I dreamed of, it’s—

With a start, I wake up. My eyes are wide, my heart pounding in my chest as the memories of my dream settle in my conscious mind. What the fuck…?

Unable to lie still for even a second, I all but jump out of my bed and head to my bathroom. The water is icy, but I don’t care, and only after my face is dripping and I’m fully awake do my thoughts start to make sense again.

It was just a dream.

It wasn’t real.

Violet didn’t kiss me.

But, fuck, do I wish it was real.

Sinking down onto the edge of the tub, I bury my face in my hand and let out a low curse. “What is wrong with me?” I mutter to myself. “She’s engaged, for fuck’s sake. I can’t fall for her, dammit!”

But that’s exactly what’s happening, whether I want it or not. Whether it’s sensible or not. My shoulders slump and a short desperate laugh escapes me as I can’t fight the truth any longer. I’m falling for her, hard. And no amount of logical arguing is going to get me out of this.

. o O o .

In a way, admitting my feelings to myself makes things easier, I decide as I pick a few of the flowers Liam made and arrange them on a styrofoam stand. Or at least I hope it does. Yesterday, the logical part of my brain was dreading seeing her again this afternoon. Nothing good could come from this, after all. And at the rate she’s ripping away my self-control, who knows what might happen the next time I slip up.

But by now… It’s not that these thoughts aren’t still there. It’s just that… without having to fight how I feel, with letting myself feel what I feel, I think it will be easier to keep my interactions with her at an acceptable level. I’m falling for her and I can fight these feelings just as little as I can change that there’s no future for us. All I can do is somehow deal with the whole mess.

So I’ll just roll with it. Because there’s also another part of my brain, the part that’s just excited, just looking forward to seeing her again. To spend a little time with her. To enjoy her voice and her smiles for however long I can.

Deep down, I know this is not the most healthy way to deal with my feelings. But it’s the only solution I can come up with.

. o O o .

When I enter the front room, she’s already sitting in her usual space, visibly content. Once again, I take a short moment to just enjoy seeing her like this, a moment to look at her unrestrained before I let her notice me. And I already feel lighter, more in control. Nothing weird will happen while she’s here, I swear to myself. And I always keep my promises.

“Hey,” I greet her, my defences already built up against her greeting smile. And to my relief, it’s indeed easier on me this time.

“Hey to you, too. And thanks again for meeting with me. I’m not keeping you from work, am I?”

“No, don’t worry. From Wednesday to Sunday, I’m busy preparing the fresh cakes for the weddings, but since most of them are during weekends, Monday and Tuesday are usually calmer.”

Violet nods. “Makes sense.”

“Do you want something to drink today?” Again, I know it’s just a normal question, just the usual politeness towards a customer. It doesn’t matter that it might mean more to me, as long as I keep my emotions in this tight little bubble.

Out of habit, I turn to start the coffee machine when Violet replies, a little hesitant. “Could I… maybe get a hot chocolate again? Honestly, I’ve never had one that tasted so delicious.”

The smile tugging at my lips is real as I nod. “Sure. Just give me a minute or two.” It’s still stupid, to grant her this special treatment. But I can enjoy the simple fact that she likes something I prepared, can’t I? It’s innocent, nothing meaningful.

When I return to her, I hold her mug in one hand and the stand with the pre-picked flowers I prepared earlier in the other. That’s what she came here for, after all, despite me offering to show her yesterday only having been an excuse.

“Mmh, thank you,” she hums, taking the mug and inhaling deeply. “I’ve been thinking about this for days now. The hot chocolate.” She takes a sip and sighs. “Even better than I remembered.”

I smile again. “You’re welcome.” I like the thought that she thought of me as well, for whatever reason.

Violet takes another sip, visibly getting comfortable, and I don’t fight the happiness this sight brings me anymore. What’s the point? Obviously, she’s happy now. Whatever bothered her before about her wedding must be out of the way now. Which is good. I’m glad for her. Nothing could have developed between us anyway, so I ignore that sting.

“And these are the flowers you made?” Her eyes are on the petal paste roses, filled with clear awe. “They look so real.”

“They do, don’t they?” I say, not hiding the pride I feel. “And yeah, we made them. Well, mostly my coworker, to be honest. My area of expertise is more what goes into the cake.”

“Glad to hear you’re at least honest to her,” a voice calls from behind me, and I flinch. Why is Liam back already?

I turn in my seat, now trying harder to suppress my emotions. If Liam sees how annoyed I am about him being early, I’ll never hear the end of it. “I’d never take credit that’s not mine.”

Liam cocks his head, making a show of thinking about my words, and then nods. “Fair enough.”

With a small sigh, I turn back toward Violet. I’m a little disappointed that I don’t get to enjoy this meeting as I planned to, but it’s probably better this way. With Liam around as a buffer, I’m definitely not going to slip up again. “Violet, this is Liam, my co-worker.”

“And roommate, foster brother, and general life saver. At your service.” He makes a show of bowing towards Violet, and I can’t help but roll my eyes a little. He’s such a flirt. But maybe, that’s good. Makes our interactions lighter, easier.

Violet chuckles. “Nice to meet you, Liam. I’m Violet.”

“Violet is the one who ordered the cake with the orange roses,” I explain, waving at the examples in their stand. “Which is why she’s here. So see a few first samples.”

“I see,” Liam drawls, giving me side eyes. He knows damn well that a meeting like this it’s not typical.

“What are you doing here already, by the way?” I ask, stirring the conversation away from any possible follow-up questions. “Shouldn’t you still have classes?”

“Classes got cancelled because our prof called in sick. I’m attending art school,” he explains for Violet. “I only help out here in my free time and because I can get credits for my courses for modelling some of these decorations. And because Xaden here would be entirely lost without me.” He nudges my shoulder with his fist.

“Thanks, asshole,” I mutter but can’t help smiling. He’s not wrong, after all.

Violet eyes us with a tiny smirk. “I see. So, you’re the one I really need to talk to here? Regarding the decorations?”

Liam’s shoulders square and a wide grin spreads across his face. “Absolutely. Xaden can’t even tell the difference between pinkish orange and salmon colour. So if you’re here to talk about the finer details for your cake, I’m your man.”

Violet laughs, soft but real, and I can’t be annoyed at Liam, not when this is how he makes her react. My happiness is not what’s important here, only hers.

“Well then,” Violet says, her chin resting on her propped-up hand. “What do you, as an expert, think of our plan for this cake? Any thoughts?”

At that, I snort. Liam has always thought about how people want their cakes.

Grinning, Liam sinks into the chair between us. “I’m so glad you asked. Are you sure you only want roses? Because no matter how realistically I make these, on their own they will always look weird and artificial. Now, if you’d let me add some greenery and filler flowers, though? That’s what makes the decoration really pop.” He holds up a hand to halt her protest and I let him because I agree. We’ve had this conversation a hundred times already, after all. Without customers, though. “I know what you want to say. The decoration is supposed to stick to the signature colour palette. But trust me, adding greenery doesn’t interfere with that. Think of the bridal bouquet and the general flower decorations. Those will come with greenery, too, and nobody will think it looks weird or out of place. Why should it be different for the flower decoration on the cake? Come here, let me show you what I mean.”

He gets up and beckons Violet to follow him, which she does after throwing me a little glance. I settle back in my seat and watch as Liam stirs her through the room, showing her different examples, some simply with petal paste leaves, others with baby’s breath or other flowers woven into the decoration.

And I find myself… feeling content. Seeing her following Liam’s explanations with true interest, the little smiles she throws at me in between, her honest laughter filling the shop every now and then. Maybe this wasn’t how I expected this meeting to go, but that’s okay. Because I truly could get used to this, just having her around, just for the joy of it.

What does it matter that nothing can come of it when I can simply enjoy the little things? Like how her entire face lights up when she smiles, the blue outshining the amber in her hazel eyes. The curve of her lips and the way her hair shimmers when it reflects the light. Not to mention her witty comments and the inner strength she has to posses for going through with something despite the difficulties.

It’ll only last for less than two months, but until then, I want to enjoy every moment I can. Maybe it’s stupid, my heart telling me it would never be enough.

But it has to be enough so maybe, it will.

. o O o .

AN: Yeah, Xaden, that's the way to go. Get used to having her around. That's totally not going to blow in your face...

(PS: Since it sounds better and also fits better to the word I'd use in my native tongue, I replaced 'gum paste' with the alternative phrase 'petal paste', in case anyone was wondering.)

Next Chapter

#Riorgail #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #liam mairi #fanfiction #the empyrean #rebecca yarros #fluff #Bakery!AU #Modern AU

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jadedbutler · 1 year ago

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jurdan post-canon WIP scene

By the time Jude returns with drinks in hand, Cardan has already managed to make a spectacle of himself. He’s lounging on the edge of a shitty park fountain like it’s a throne, one leg crossed over the other, his raven hair mussed in a way that looks deliberate but may not actually have been. The black-painted nails of one jewelled hand tap impatiently against the stone.

With his free hand, he places light pink flower petals in his mouth. There are no nearby blooms, and it’s far too early in the spring to see even little buds, let alone full blown roses.

“Are those good for you?” Jude asks dryly, because she refuses to ask where he’d gotten them from. Her hands are damp from condensation sweating off the disposable cups.

“Would you like a taste?” Cardan returns with a provocative smile, knowing the answer.

Jude does not. “...Are you drunk?” It has been about five minutes since she’d left him alone.

Cardan pauses as though contemplating the question, flicks the tip of his tongue to catch a drop of nectar dripping down his lower lip. “I’m ravenous,” he deflects smoothly, which as good as a yes.

He holds out his palm to present Jude with a handful of crushed roses. “Is there anything actually good to eat in the mundane world?”

Jude frowns, grabbing him by the wrist to pull him to his feet, letting the flowers scatter to the pavement. She doesn’t let go right away, appraising how slender his arms are, how easy it is to bruise his fair skin.

“Your criteria of ‘actually good’ is hard to gauge. You didn’t like dim sum?” she says, releasing her grip to press against him the plastic cup of coke she’d procured from a nearby stall.

Instead of taking the drink from her hands, like a normal person, Cardan takes her wrist in turn and pulls it toward himself to take a sip.

“I enjoyed the experience immensely.”

Of course, to Cardan every meal here must be iron-tinged. He hasn’t complained yet, but she can see it in his complexion, the chic bruising beneath his onyx eyes, the way he ends up finding fey flowers where there shouldn’t be any.

Jude flexes her hand the one that dain made her stab. Even now, after all this time playing queen of shadows, she can’t shake her tells. She opts for a change of subject:

“That’s new,” she nods at the earring. A golden snake that coils around the pointed shell of his ear, with gilded fangs that sink into his lobe, and tiny rubies that seem to drip from the bite. She can pretty much guess what the craftsman had been trying to imply.

“I’m rather fond of it,” Cardan smiles back, all teeth, dark eyes gleaming like fresh ink.

“...I’ll bet you are.”

#folk of the air #jurdan #WIP #IDK WHAT THEY DO AFTER THIS LIKE ?????#play smash brother ?????#who would cardan even main like kid icarus? kirby ???

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feyyrunes · 7 months ago

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meet my OC

Kicking if off with my first Tav, Yfrin Sallowsong!

⚡Age: 32 ⚡Race: Half-Elf ⚡Class: Evocation Wizard ⚡Alignment: True Neutral ⚡Romances: Astarion & Halsin ⚡Background: Noble Backstory: Yfrin Sallowsong is half-wood elf and half human. She's the third child of House Sallowsong, who made their fortune off lumber. Lord Sallowsong, her father, is the wood elf and the noble, her mother died when she was very young from illness. Yfrin's brother Silas is the heir. Her middle brother, Aimer, has always been distant and quiet, but she suspects he might have a good head for strategy on him, and a better heart than Silas. Yfrin’s court looks down on her and her siblings for being half elves and not full wood elves, as her father broke tradition to marry her mother. He’s been on his deathbed for about 10 years and Silas is in a regent type role. Yfrin suspects Silas of poisoning their dad but she can’t prove it. Silas is cruel and manipulative and sees his siblings as a means to gaining power. When Yfrin was 19 she was engaged to somebody she thought was the love of her life, only to find out a few days before the wedding it had all been a political alliance arranged by Silas and her betrothed had another lover. Heartbroken, she fled to study wizardry, hoping to find an escape from politics. But Silas’s reach went far, and she found that no matter what she did she could not escape her name. Upon her graduation, she tried to steal a small fortune and flee Baldur’s Gate altogether, but Silas tracked her down and now has effectively placed her under house arrest. She refuses to marry but Silas makes “arrangements” for political allies to spend time with her, in the hopes they will divulge information to her. Silas uses her love for their father as leverage, knowing she won’t leave while he’s still alive. She doesn’t care about using her body so long as she doesn’t have to give up what little freedom she has left, finding no comfort in the idea of being bound to one other person for the rest of her days. She settles for the jewel-encrusted bars of her cage, summoning lightning and fire when she’s angry, threatening to watch the empire Silas has built off their family’s lumber burn. Mostly, though, she’s bored, feeling nothing for her revolving door of companions, dreaming of a great, wide world out there to see. When she is kidnapped on the nautiloid, this is finally her Main Character Moment, where she gets to be the hero of her own story. At the same time, power-hungry, desperate Yfrin is also discovering that maybe the world has enough heroes already.

Spoilers under the cut talking about her "Good" and "bad" endings

Yfrin takes the mind flayer parasites and is not okay when she loses these powers. It takes a lot of grieving to get over the loss of them.

She saw right through Astarion from the beginning and was also manipulating him, but they ended up bonding over their similar trauma and developing a real respect for each other.

She admires Halsin for being so kind, even in the face of all of his troubles. She would never do this herself but she really likes it about him, and when that kindness is turned on her, she has trouble accepting it at first but eventually she learns to bask in it

If she was a main companion in the game you could convince her to kill Silas, finally say goodbye to her father, and have her brother Aimer take over.

In her good ending, post-game, Yfrin tracks down the gods cure Astarion of his vampirism with a Wish spell (I haven’t decided if she succeeds or not but definitely this is what she does), and then she goes to find Halsin where he teaches her the ways of the wood elves and she reconnects with nature. Yfrin is canonically poly and eventually has a child with a human trader named Dain.

Astarion and Yfrin eventually part but may meet up from time to time.

In Yfrin's bad ending, she returns to House Sallowsong, where she lets her brother Silas kill their father. She becomes an aide to Silas, and it is implied that eventually Silas will grow suspicious of Yfrin's power and poison her.

#yfrin #OC posting #bg3 #tav lore #baldur's gate #feyposting

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dutybcrne · 10 months ago

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@strdstd said : i already lost you once. i'm not going to lose you again. {Dain for Halfdan bc lISTEN-} 『 Meme || Accepting 』

Being an odd amalgamation that was an ascended human who still retained certain Abyssal affliction was never going to by easy.

Halfdan knew this well, the odd way his Vision had not only refused to cooperate with him at first, but in the way it thrummed uncomfortably ( at best ) whenever he used it. He knew in the way extended usage tended to really hurt, especially the more his emotions tended to lapse and surge.

Whenever that form tended to take over, in more dire circumstances.

Like the most recent battle they'd faced, having pushed himself to that familiar, monstrous appearance he'd donned for 500 years because his Vision wasn't enough. Because he had to protect his fellow knights once more ( he was stronger now than before, he couldn't fail them, too! ). Because he needed to stay by Dainsleif's side, backing him up the best he could as always, to hell with how much his body felt like it were being torn apart. To hell with how much it hurt to maintain that body, whether the more the riftwolves would lash at him, or because of that accursed clash of those two energies-

Teeth grit tight.

That body had already begun to fall apart on him far too soon, the visage cracked and partially fallen away by the time he'd found himself having to take a knee. To try and catch his breath, act as though he could still run up and about to keep helping like all the others. But of course Dainsleif knew better. Even without the wheezed breaths rattling through his chest then, still were even now, even if most of his face had still been concealed by that shadow husk facade he'd donned, Dain could tell he was reaching his limit. Knew this, as well as he did, but even still...still...!

"Starlight...!" Still, the ache bore into his heart at the concern. The desperation threaded in his beloved voice, spelled clear in his features as the plea had his lips. More than the disappointment in himself that he hadn't been able to swiftly recover, the burn of his failure- "Dain, I can't just...!"

I can't just leave you to fight alone again. Please-

"Just-" If he couldn't handle picking back up the pace after a mere ambush, after using his ace in the hole...how could he possibly think himself worthy of being the captain's right hand. This wasn't a time to be weak, to be inefficient- "Please, Dainsleif, I...y-you can't afford to shoulder more burden on my behalf...!"

Dainsleif was impossibly overworked as it was. Endlessly nonstop, if Halfdan had to drop out now, with all the other captains and even the Acting Grandmaster themselves spread so thinly...!

"I just...need a brief breather. Let me do this for you. Please, I don't...I can't let you down again...!"

#strdstd // dainsleif #ic #//kjhgkdjfg /o/ HAVE AT THEE #answered #long post for ts #Me: Ok; just make this a quick lil bit-#My brain: Hey; remember that bit abt how Abyssal energy can cause HELLA fluctuations in one's emotional state-#//No need to match length jhuhgfkhg

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brynn-lear · 5 months ago

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Pierro watches you all night, checking your pulse every so often.

Hello hi yes welcome back to my TEDTalks. This will NOT be organized cause HHAHAH since when has my thoughts been organized? Anyways the orange lines were stuff i screen shotted on like my 1st read thru weeks ago but I forgot most of the context as to why HAHAH anyways blue lines are for today. Ps: i can't find my savior drawing i am sad all over-

EVERYONE PLEASE WELCOME MY WIFEEEEEE!!! THIS IS SAVIOR!!! MY PRETTIEST KINDEST WONDERFUL-EST BEAUTIFUL-EST ("brynn, most is a word.") GUARDIAN EVERRRRR IN ALL UNIVERSE MWAHMWAH MY BELOVED MY DEAREST OH THERE'S MIST IN MY EYE

OKAY THIS PART I JUST SIMP FOR SAVIOR: idk why i absolutely love how she hits so much different- like, it's 100% a matter of tastes I'm not pitting your bad bitches (darlings) against each other, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I just??? Love her so much??? In her as well??? She's so sweet and so kind and not at all discriminatory AND SHE SACRIFICED HER POSITION TO SAVE PIERRO??? LIKE??? YOU CAN REMOVE THE YANDERE TAG I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THE FEELING ISN'T MUTUAL AND THAT THEY'RE NOT BOTH DEVOTED TO EACH OTHER IN SUCH A BEAUTIFUL WAY NU UH I'M NOT SEEING RED FLAGS WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT-

She's so... She's so!!!! Wonderful. She's like "this poor guy... I'm gonna accompany him!" What a pure soul... Literally. What a pure soul...

FIRST: i love this line for the dumbest reason cuz I imagined Pierro just raising an eyebrow and going "you REALLY think I need a guardian angel I'm not THAT geriatric—"

SECOND: lmfao ngl if I'm in pierro's position I'd cry and thank Savior for caring about me. Me and my affection denied ass. This will turn out differently if I'm her soulmate-

THIRD: another damn reason why savior is best girl like she doesn't care what other angels think she's just there to support...! So beautiful... So much grace... Oh I love her...

Yeah, add me in there and it would be the worst reunion of the century. Not as terrible as Fodlan's class reunion with my beloved but like— yes. If I was there I'd throw hands I'll side with Savior let's mess em up my queen. There's also an arle SS save on my phone but the photos are limited so let's pretend I sent that one with multiple heart scribbles. Yes. I know. There's none for dain. He doesn't deserve my lov- /silly. I also had SS of dottore with me writing down "AHEM." on the first mention of the angel killer but alas there's only 10 pic limit on tumblr and this ain't about u dottore /JJJJ

I'm kidding also dain ily, but in a "you're dimitri in the genshin art style" way- /shot

Like I said, orange lines are my first reading. I don't remember the damn context as to why i highlighted that. But I'm willing to bet I yelled "OH SHIT" LMAO

Today: okay reread- yeah it was definitely an OH SHIT moment HAHAHAH- also I'm gonna hiss loudly at this fallen guy. Nu uh. You're not separating my parents this is a happy family you're in the WRONG HOUSE, FOOL-

Another instance or "idk why I highlighted that but I bet girlie was absolutely shooked" HAHAHHA

Today: yep. I am definitely disorganized cuz this comes first before the one on top but anyways SAVIOR IS SUCH A QUEEN LIKE WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED TO CONVINCE ME SHE'S THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME??? SHE'S SO..AAAAAAAAAHHHHH- I WANT SOMEONE WHO WOULD DO THIS FOR ME, PLATONICALLY OR ROMANTICALLY I DON'T CARE I JUST WANT A SAVior in my life because I'm usually surrounded by "sorry, no can do. Ps if you tell ur family theyll scold u" so I've learned to do most things alone even on dangerous scenarios lmao savior why aren't you real and savior why not pick me. PICK ME. PICK ME I'LL BE A PICK ME GIRL FOR YOU WHY NOT ME SAVIOR-

I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS LINE- i do not know why but honestly couple goals HAHAH (note: i am not endorsing yandere behavior in real life-). I lowkey wanna be at his mercy too because all I'm seeing for the entire fic is a green flag man who will take care of you??? And you guys are established friends??? Honestly wouldn't take that long for me to give my consent??? Honestly savior you got one of the better yans??- /shot

Ngl i chuckled rereading this part because I tried reading it as a self insert and not me reading my parent's love story and damn 💀. Earlier today I was playing an otome game and sent videos of me sobving about how another husband of mine is fricking dying and Estella replied to me (copy pasted) with these messages:

"i love how hes a brunette just like oda and gallagher."

"he dies too."

"the brynn lear curse."

"itsa good thing u dont have a crush in real life cuz imagine the next day he gets diagnosed with cancer /jjj"

And you know what? I can now understand you savior 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Okay I've ran out of space to screen shot but you get the picture hHAHAHA ANYWAYS YEAH FIRST READING I REMEMBER GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET WHEN SAVIOR SAVED PIERRO AND I STILL GIGGLED THIS TIME AROUND SO YOU KNOW THIS IS A CERTIFIED SAVIOR X READER MWAH THANK YOU JESSAMINE FOR THE SAVIOR CONTENT THERE IS NO ONE ELSE IN THE WORLD WHO CAN DO SAVIOR LIKE YOU, BLESS YOUR SOUL-

⋆˚♱ଘ Annular Eclipse ଓ♱˚⋆

A long time ago, I binge-watched The Ancient Magus’ Bride and that decision came back to haunt me in my Church AU…… *evil laugh*

As always, thank you to @diodellet for beta-reading this piece!! And to my dear mutuals, I hope you all suffer enjoy the sinful story of Cartaphilus! Pierro x Angel! Darling ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭

Tw:: yandere, blood, violence, death, suicidal ideation, religious abuse, MDNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion

♡ 5.7k words under the cut ♡

♡ Among God’s creations, His favorite is granted a special fate. Though all lives end in death, only humanity is blessed with salvation and afterlife. Those who live righteously may thus ascend to Heaven, whereas sinners are condemned to eternal suffering in Hell. There is, however, one exception—a fragment of humanity whose sins may never be forgiven.

♡ Legends speak of Khaenri’ah, the nation of sinners. Once the pride of humankind, its citizens challenged God through their creations in alchemy and technology—and the entire nation was subsequently destroyed in a sea of flames. In the wake of the Cataclysm, pollen from the Tree of Life rained down upon the survivors, afflicting them with their final punishment, immortality.

♡ Since then, Khaenri’ahns have roamed the mortal plane in a perpetual state of living. Denied a place in Heaven and Hell, they are cursed to live forever no matter what harm befalls their body and psyche. Due to their wicked reputation, they must also live in fear of their once-fellow humans, lest they face persecution. For this reason, eternity differs among Khaenri’ahns, with a unique fate reserved for the one who goes by the name of Pierro.

♡ After the Cataclysm, Pierro led a group of survivors to Snezhnaya where they established a new home. For three centuries, it was a peaceful haven hidden from the divine gaze of God and the Church…until it was exposed by a traitor and destroyed with manmade flames. In the ensuing chaos, Pierro was the sole “survivor” in the sense that he managed to escape. The rest were critically wounded, buried alive, and left to suffer for all eternity.

♡ Having lost his second home, Pierro began a search for other Khaenri’ahns, only to be further disillusioned. Many communities had also fallen to ruin, if not from persecution but by their own madness. Others, blinded by dreams of death, had resorted to violence and witchcraft in their fruitless attempts to break the curse. And several individuals had embarked on quests for the Tree of Life, only to disappear far away from their homeland. In two more centuries, Khaenri’ah was reduced to a forgotten myth, and Pierro had lost all hope for his people.

♡ So when he gets into an accident, he sees no point in saving himself. If he were younger, he’d be horrified at the thought of falling off a cliff. At best, he’d end up with more scars albeit another permanent reminder of his tragic fate. As for the worst-case scenario, he’d become paralyzed, trapped below the cliff, doomed to eternity as a living corpse. But now, hanging off the edge by his fingertips, he considers the possibility that his head takes the brunt of the impact. A coma would be the closest thing to a reprieve from his waking hell.

♡ Just as his grip weakens, a hand reaches out and catches his wrist. The action is so sudden, so forceful, that Pierro has no time to think before he is pulled up and his back hits the grass. Above him, eclipsing his view of the sun, is the face of a stranger. A tearful expression. A kind gaze that seems to pierce through his soul.

“Are you hurt? Why didn’t you call for help?! You poor thing, I’m sorry for only seeing you now.”

“I am…” He averts your gaze and instead focuses on the sky. It is the color of twilight—a harmony of blues, oranges, and reds that pale in comparison to the crimson skies of his nightmares. “...fine. Thank you for your kindness.”

♡ Once the shock wears off, Pierro takes a careful look at his savior. You have the appearance of a typical human, roughly the same age as he was when his body stopped aging. Definitely not a Khaenri’ahn, given your lack of cursed marks and star-shaped pupils. Neither are there any religious symbols on your clothing, which is a relief. As for your tears shed on his behalf…he’ll chalk it up to pity.

♡ At your insistence, you treat him to a meal at the nearest inn. When Pierro introduces himself as an ordinary traveler, you make a similar claim and suggest journeying together. It is a tempting offer—the both of you are alone with no destination in mind, and you seem harmless. So against his better judgment, Pierro accepts your proposal.

♡ Over time, he warms up to his new companion. You are kind, competent, a bright presence in his life. Traveling with you is like seeing the world with new eyes—you lead him to bustling cities, picturesque forests, places teeming with life. The only downside is your visits to the Church for prayers and chats with the local priests, but you at least seem to be an open-minded believer. You always tell Pierro that he doesn’t need to follow along but he does so anyway, if only to evade suspicion and admire the religious art with you.

♡ Other than that, you don’t reveal much about yourself. But you aren’t one to pry into Pierro’s past so he gives you the same courtesy. At times, he finds himself looking at you fondly, feeling a spark of physical attraction, dreaming of a happy future with you. But those delusions are always dashed by the fact of your humanity, so he instead resolves to cherish what little time you have left before death claims your soul.

♡ That was his goal until he begins to notice certain…oddities. It’s common for the two of you to share a tent, a room, sometimes even a bed. Neither of you are fazed by it, especially when Pierro’s main concern is concealing his cursed marks with makeup. But a few months into your travels, he makes a quiet realization: In those nights of shared slumber, not once has he fallen asleep without feeling your gaze on him.

♡ At first, he assumes that you merely sleep later and wake up earlier than him. But every time Pierro wakes up in the middle of the night, you immediately sit up and tend to him, acting as energetic as usual. Neither do you appear lethargic after nights when it is difficult to sleep. So he puts it to the test by regularly chatting with you late into the night; you always follow along, not once sounding tired nor in want of sleep. Once, he talks to you all night long and in the morning, while Pierro is plagued with fatigue, you look perfectly awake. And only when he subtly points it out do you yawn and go back to bed.

♡ Other mysteries follow. There is the time the two of you trekked through a barren wasteland and ran out of food. It took you two days to reach civilization and while Pierro was starving, you never complained about hunger. If anything, you still managed to walk and fight off beasts at your usual energy levels. And on the rare chance that Pierro is injured, you are the one who treats his wounds…and they always heal at an unnaturally fast pace.

♡ A year into your travels, he decides to look for answers. One night, he shares a bed with you and feigns sleep. For the next few hours, he just lies there and takes note of your unnatural way of sleeping—no slowed breaths, no involuntary movements, yet the persistent feeling that he is still being watched. Shortly after midnight, he pulls out a dagger from under his pillow and aims it at you.

♡ It was only a test to see if you’d react quickly and reveal your ruse. Which is exactly what you do, eyes fluttering open and your hand catching the dagger before Pierro can stop short of stabbing your chest. The look on your face is calm, utterly devoid of fear, and you make no move to leave the bed. You just stare at him with the same piercing gaze.

“Good morning,” you tell him. “Are you going to explain the sudden wakeup call? I don’t believe this is rooted in any Khaenri’ahn practices.”

At the mention of his homeland, Pierro’s grip on the dagger tightens. “So it appears that my suspicions were not unfounded. Answer me, are you a spy of the Church?”

Your answer is a benevolent smile. A soft light shines from your body as a halo—silver, pierced with nails—appears behind your head, followed by a wispy veil. Luminous wings emerge from your back, caging Pierro in a feathery embrace.

Your hand, marked with a bloodstained scar, wraps around his wrist.

“I’m your guardian angel,” you whisper.

♡ Technically, your statement is untrue. In a calm voice, you explain that Khaenri’ahns can’t be assigned guardian angels due to their immortality. Moreover, most angels harbor contempt for his kind though you are a rare exception, having taken pity on Pierro and chosen to become his unofficial guardian. The last part triggers an offended response—are you mocking him?

♡ As for your true nature, you’re the leader of the Archangels. As an angel of the Third Sphere, you are one of the closest to humanity, a divine messenger with the additional tasks of providing blessings and guiding humans towards the path of righteousness. Only, you’re currently on a ten-year “break;” it just so happened that you noticed Pierro at the start of your sabbatical.

♡ Once he is confident that you won’t smite him in cold blood, he goes to sleep—it’s been a long night and fatigue will only dull his senses. When he wakes up, he can almost believe that last night’s events were a dream…until you loom over him in your true form, wishing him a good morning. After a long conversation, he decides to continue traveling with you. That way, he can keep a close eye on you and gain some useful knowledge.

♡ Thus resumes your journey. In addition to Pierro’s distrust, there are major changes to your dynamic. You still travel in your human guise but you switch to your true form when it’s just the two of you. Since angels don’t need food or sleep to sustain themselves, you stop eating with him unless you’re in public. At night, only one bed is needed and you simply watch over Pierro, wishing him a peaceful slumber. Your gentle gaze is always the last thing he sees each day, though it takes months before he can fall asleep comfortably.

♡ He also learns about your nightly pastimes. As it turns out, while Pierro is asleep, you like to fly around the city to help lost souls. Just small acts of kindness in your human form…and if needed, divine interventions in the Church. It explains why he often wakes up to news about corrupt priests who experienced “visions of an angel” and publicly confessed their sins.

♡ Along your journey, you also stop by the homes of the humans previously assigned to you. At the beginning of each visit, you go to the cemetery and speak to their grave. Afterwards, you bring Pierro to their favorite places and reminisce about their lives. When he asks why you can’t simply see them in Heaven, you give him a sad smile and explain that the deceased reside in a realm beyond the jurisdiction of angels. In a paradise where every soul is purged of sin, what use is there for an angel’s guidance?

♡ You mourn the lives of angels as well. It comes as a shock to Pierro, the idea that even an angel is susceptible to death. To which you explain that many of your divine siblings were killed by demons. And because afterlife does not exist for spiritual beings, both species simply cease to exist once their lives have ended. As for your former brethren, they cut all ties with you after their descent.

♡ Slowly, Pierro grows to trust you again. It helps that you were able to prove yourself a year later by saving him from your own kind. Granted, he could suspect that it was merely an act but the sight of a Principality cowering before you, their cassock staked to the floor by silver nails, is quite convincing. Not to mention your cold gaze overflowing with wrath.

“So tell me. Why exactly did you attack my dear human?”

The room is silent, save for the younger angel’s whimpers. To think that a few minutes ago, Pierro had been sleeping peacefully. Now he stands beside you, blood trickling from a cut under his scarred eye, still gripping his unused sword.

“I…” Despite being a rank above you, his attacker is clearly terrified. “But ______, that man…he is one of the accursed sinners! He—”

“Now, now.” You kneel to their level but all kindness is lost in your tone. More nails appear out of thin air, all pointing towards the angel’s body. “Look me in the eye when I am talking to you.”

♡ In the end, the angel kneels before Pierro and begs for forgiveness. He accepts their apology, but not without harsh words and a swipe of his sword against their face. After they leave, you worriedly turn to Pierro and heal his injuries. Thanks to your powers, all of his wounds close up without a trace. Still, when you take your hand off his face, what he sees in the mirror is not his healed cheek but the cursed marks exclusive to Khaenri’ahns.

*✧･ﾟ

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Despite the nature of the attack, you are the one acting emotional. A tear rolls down your cheek as you trace the cursed side of Pierro’s face.

“You need not apologize on behalf of your brethren,” he mutters. He glances at his right arm, sleeve pulled up to reveal a similar pattern of blue veins and black markings. “...or your Heavenly Father. And I believe I’ve told you countless times not to waste your tears on me.”

“Still.” Shaking your head, you look him in the eye. “How can I not cry every time I gaze into your soul? I wish I could save you, put an end to your pain…but it’s impossible.”

“So why do you still devote yourself to me, ______?”

______. It is the false name you go by in the human realm, spoken by every person who has known you as their guardian angel. As for your true name, it remains a mystery to Pierro.

Still, he’d like to believe that he is the human who knows you best. He knows that you are the First Archangel, one of the oldest beings in existence. He knows that you were opposed to the Cataclysm but powerless in stopping it. He knows that your decade of rest was caused by an accumulation of stress, an endless cycle of giving and saving and sacrificing which will only continue in a few years’ time.

And what then? At the end of your journey, will you still have time for him? Or is he truly cursed to drift aimlessly in eternal solitude?

His half-mask rests on a nearby drawer, a relic from his second home. He picks it up, thumb pressed against a painted gold tear.

“You astound me,” he continues. “You, of all people, know that salvation is forever beyond my grasp. And yet you continue to spare me absolute grace. Anyone else would have deemed me a lost cause.”

“That is because I love you.”

At that, Pierro nearly drops his mask. He turns to you, starry eyes wide with wonder. “Can you kindly repeat that?”

But the moment he sees your face, he realizes his folly.

“I love you,” you tell him, a soft look in your eyes, “as I love all humans.”

Has kindness ever sounded so cruel?

“...I understand.” He puts down his mask, pride shattered. “Such is to be expected from a being for whom the love for humanity is inherent.”

A love which he and his compatriots are no longer beholden to.

“But of course.” At that, your countenance turns reverent. Your wings fold inwards, and you place a bloodstained hand over your chest. “An angel’s purpose is to serve God and to save His creations. Beyond that, there is no other point to our existence.”

Silence. This time, Pierro doesn’t bother to hide his judgment.

“Well, that is our initial reason,” you add, noticing his expression. “After all, what’s not to love when your kind is capable of so many wonderful things? Really, you never fail to surprise us.”

“How so?”

“I’ll confess, many of us angels were once in awe of Khaenri’ah,” you admit. “Think of it: Your people found a way to create life, sorcery, powers that were once exclusive to God. Had I met you during your days as a royal mage, I surely would have been impressed.”

Hard to say. Despite his previous status, Pierro hasn’t practiced Khaenri’ahn sorcery in years. It’s likely that his powers have eroded alongside his spirit.

“Then only a century after the Cataclysm, there was the Angel-Killer who performed miracles using our flesh. As a matter of fact…I made the mistake of assigning his first victim to him.”

Your grief isn’t lost on him. The bed creaks as you take a seat next to Pierro, adjusting the chain of mourning lockets around your waist. It bears mementos of both humans and angels.

“Thirteen angels lost their lives to him, including two of my dearest siblings. Needless to say, we were all relieved when Il Dottore finally died, though I had to be given a century’s worth of rest to recover from grief. Sohreh, Pasithea, Oizys…I still think of them to this day.”

Il Dottore. He is an infamous figure in history, a priest whose sins rivaled those of Khaenri’ah. And yet even he was granted the mercy of death.

“And there are the humans I was blessed to watch over,” you tell him, eyes shining with tears. “I remember all of their names, their smiles, every achievement they made in their short lives. And I’m sure that there will be more in the future.”

That is the final nail in the coffin.

“You are right.” With that, Pierro leaves the bed. “As such, there is no need for you to dwell on how the world is now. I have no doubt that many souls owe their salvation to you, ______, and anyone would be a fool to dismiss your efforts.”

“...Thank you. It means a lot.”

You don’t let him leave, however. A hand around his wrist is all it takes for Pierro to stop, to yield to your embrace. In the dim room, you are the only source of light, an idol of unparalleled benevolence. Divine, beautiful, yet never within his reach.

“Eight more years,” you tell him. In your eyes, his reflection has never looked more hopeful. “That is the amount of time we have left. And until then, I will never leave your side.”

*✧･ﾟ

♡ The next eight years are content. More travels. Deep conversations. Peaceful nights. Another angelic encounter, in which a subordinate merely reported to you and avoided Pierro’s gaze. At one point, you reveal to him that the Tree of Life is no longer in the human realm, eliminating any hope of breaking the curse. His devastation is softened by your comfort, and he can only imagine the reactions of his compatriots if they knew this truth.

♡ Not that he has anyone to share it with. In the Church of Fontaine, Pierro is surprised to recognize the head priest as a Khaenri’ahn. She is only a descendant and thus spared from the curse—a blessing for Arlecchino, a tragedy for her ancestor who likely mourned the generations between them. After their chat, Pierro leaves without divulging her lineage. It’s enough to know that one of his kind is leading a fulfilling life, though he finds it ironic that a Church ended up in a Khaenri’ahn’s hands.

♡ Other than her, there is the familiar face he spotted in Inazuma. Blond hair, blue eyes with star-shaped pupils, a distinctive half-mask…but before Pierro can approach Dainsleif, you grip his wrist and enable him to see the eagle-winged demon clinging to his former comrade. In a fearful whisper, you explain that she is one of Hell’s strongest demons, the slayer of countless angels. And when she turns in your direction, Pierro feels the weight of her crimson-gold glare. In the end, the two of you walk past them, preventing what could have been a bloody reunion.

♡ As your sabbatical reaches its end, Pierro finds himself making the most of your remaining time together. He smiles at you, holds your hand first, asks you more personal questions. Your travels also end in a surprise destination—a forest near Snezhnaya, concealed with divine mist. Leading the way, you explain that it was a meeting place for you and your closest siblings until they all perished, including the Virtue who created it. And when you turn to Pierro, asking if the area suits him…he accepts the gift with full gratitude.

♡ The last year is spent constructing a humble house in the heart of the forest. On the day of your departure, the two of you enjoy a final meal together. It’s bittersweet with recollections of your travels, though the mood dampens when Pierro asks about your angelic duties. With a sad smile, you tell him that you have a lot of work to do. At some point in your journey, you even laid eyes on a young human and applied for a position as their guardian angel.

♡ At midnight, Pierro goes to bed and you wish him good night for the last time. He only closes his eyes when you disappear, when he no longer feels your gaze on him, when the residual warmth of your embrace has been chilled by the night air. When he wakes up in the morning, you are nowhere to be found.

♡ In the following months, Pierro develops a new routine in the forest. Hunting, foraging, visiting the neighboring cities, admiring the aurora-colored sky, even practicing his Khaenri’ahn sorcery. He doesn’t see you again but there are hints of your visits—a luminous white feather, seeds for fauna exclusive to Mondstadt, a wound that healed overnight. Eventually, he gets used to sleeping in solitude again.

♡ One day, he decides to visit his old home. He knows it is futile to seek out his people; after two centuries, their bodies must’ve fully decayed and mixed with the soil. Still, he might as well see what the Church did with the area…and if he can take revenge on the traitor. So he packs his bags, leaves the forest, and travels to the other side of Snezhnaya.

♡ …There’s nothing left. When he reaches his destination, he finds a glorious city built over the mass grave of his people. Only the cold of eternal winter welcomes him back, but the entire city—the devout Snezhnayas, the stories of the city’s origins, the magnificent church in place of his old house—is unfamiliar. Not even the traitor remains. Perhaps they, too, were given a coffin, forever trapped below layers of ice and concrete.

♡ He gets an answer on his way back to the forest. Near the border of Snezhnaya, Pierro is ambushed by a group of heretics…and when he demands an explanation, their leader holds up a preserved eye, the pupil shaped like a four-pointed star. As their fight continues, Pierro deduces their motives—to achieve immortality using the flesh of Khaenri’ahns. It’s pure mockery to hear those fools refer to his curse as a blessing, but his warnings fall on deaf ears as he is outnumbered.

♡ Just as he is about to lose hope, a bright light shines above him. It’s you, in all of your angelic glory, commanding the heretics to let him go. Most of his attackers fall to their knees, in awe of your divine presence, but their leader interprets it as a sign that Pierro is truly the person they’re after. They swing their sword at him…only for their entire group to be impaled by your nails.

♡ It’s a bloody sight. But once your wrath has subsided, you fly down to Pierro and check his condition. You’re incoherent, healing his wounds with trembling hands, apologizing for your late arrival. He assures you that he is fine, only to be interrupted by a sudden ray of light. But this one is blindingly bright, coming from the sky, the same holy light which shone upon Khaenri’ah during the Cataclysm.

♡ It hits him just then: In harming those humans for his sake, you’d violated one of God’s orders. Yet in the midst of His divine wrath, you muster a false smile and tell Pierro to go home. Then you fly up into the sky, disappearing above the clouds along with the holy light. He does as he is told, but not without killing all of the heretics to ensure that they won’t come after him or more Khaenri’ahns. As for the traitor…he doesn’t bother to ask for their location.

♡ The forest is the same when he returns. The next few hours pass by in a blur—unpacking, checking the animal traps, cooking dinner, and so on. The whole time, he can’t stop worrying about you. He doesn’t know if God would listen to his prayers but he tries, anyway; it’s not like he can help you in any other way.

♡ He goes to bed early, only to jolt awake when a flash of light illuminates the bedroom. When he rushes to the window, it’s just in time to see a falling star. It shoots through the sky, outshining the auroras, a beautiful sight if not for the fact that it seems to be drawing closer to him. It disappears from his range of vision, followed by a deafening sound and a severe earthquake. Then the world falls silent, returning to its tranquil state.

♡ After a few minutes, Pierro leaves his house to investigate. Seeing how the meteor bypassed the divine barrier of the forest, he doubts it was a natural phenomenon. You once told him that the Fourth Order of angels, the Dominions, are in charge of the celestial bodies—could they have been ordered to destroy his third home?

♡ Thankfully, the destruction is limited to a crater at the edge of the forest. But instead of a meteor, he finds you curled up in pain. Fragments of your halo pierce your body. Your right wing is gone; all that remains of it are clipped feathers and sawed bone. Most prominent are the curved horns jutting from your head, covered in a mix of blood and torn skin. You became a demon.

♡ Your half-conscious cries prompt him into action. Carefully, Pierro carries you to his house and treats your wounds. When he notices your hand on your stomach, he remembers what you said about demons needing food and sleep to survive. So he heats up some soup and feeds it to you; and once your hunger has subsided, he tucks you in bed. In your delirium, you can only muster a single sentence before falling asleep.

“Pierro? I’m sorry…it’s my fault, not yours.”

“Silence. We may talk tomorrow. But tonight, you must rest.”

♡ That night, you sleep for the first time. Pierro watches you all night, checking your pulse every so often. When you wake up, the sun is high above the sky and Pierro has already cooked lunch. You’re more coherent now, able to feed yourself, though you wince in pain every so often. And when Pierro asks about your descent, your expression darkens.

♡ In a shaky voice, you explain that the heretics’ ambush had been a test from God. It was fated to occur at the same time as an important event in Heaven, the decennial meeting between God and the leaders from all Nine Orders. As soon as Pierro’s name was brought up, you were quick to defend him. And when you were informed of the attack, you stormed out of the meeting to save him, fully aware that it would bring about your downfall.

♡ And despite it all, you’re the one apologizing to him—for your late arrival, for the danger he was put through, for the “burden” of taking care of you. At the last part, Pierro finally finds the words to chastise you, to say that you won’t achieve anything by wasting your tears on Heaven.

“I wish you would not think so lowly of me. After all these years, do you truly believe that I would harbor anything but gratitude towards you?”

♡ That shuts you up. For the next few weeks, you meekly accept Pierro’s care—he cooks for you, dresses your wounds, lets you sleep in his bed. There is only one problem: Your body refuses to heal. Blood continues to seep from your wounds, and you’re in a perpetual state of pain. Still, he faithfully tends to you day and night. It’s the least he can do for you.

♡ One day, he leaves the house to pick fruit and comes back to find a dark silhouette in his bedroom window. He rushes inside, armed with a weapon, to find a demon. Only, they’re kneeling by the bed, holding your hands, shedding tears of joy. That is when he notices the bloodstained scars on their hands, their tattered veil, your kind words for them…they, too, are a fallen Archangel.

♡ All peace, however, is dashed when your former subordinate tells Pierro that they are bringing you “home,” in other words Hell. As for the matter of your health, they claim that while your divine punishment is unheard of, they should be able to find a cure…from Il Dottore of all people. And despite your conflicted expression, it’s clear that you are seriously considering their invitation. Only for Pierro to take that choice away from you.

“And what makes you believe that I would allow ______ to leave our home?”

♡ Prior to you, Pierro never would’ve dared to challenge a spiritual being. But now, after all he’s been through, he takes a step forward and tells the demon to leave. It doesn’t take long for their argument to turn physical. But before the demon can smite him, Pierro defends himself with his Khaenri’ahn sorcery. They’re a formidable opponent, however, and the fight continues until he aims a galaxy-like aura at their heart. Quickly, you protect your former subordinate with a shield of rusty nails, only for the element to refract and hit you instead.

♡ Much to everyone’s relief, however, it has a different effect on you. Your feathers take on a black tint and a deep blue iridescence. The same thing happens to your horns. Most importantly, all of your wounds close up, leaving scars identical to Pierro’s cursed marks. And when he rushes to your side, asking if you are all right, you breathily tell him that you feel so much better.

♡ That is what convinces the demon to leave, but not without promising to return once they’ve informed the Devil. With peace restored in your home, the two of you go downstairs for lunch. You still need Pierro to support you, but it’s the first time you’ve managed to walk in your new form. And your appetite is bigger, healthier compared to your previous portions.

♡ After a few days however, the effect wears off. Your body loses its blue luster, your feathers fade to their original color, your pain returns. Once you’ve fully reverted to your original state, Pierro decides to try out his Khaenri’ahn sorcery again. This time, he holds your wrist and carefully channels his power into you…and it produces the same healing effect.

♡ For the sorcery which doomed his nation to save the life of his beloved…the irony leaves him at a loss of words, on the verge of laughing. But it does explain why you landed in Pierro’s home instead of Hell, and why God allowed the two of you to reunite. The knowledge brings a dark smile to his face. You’re at his mercy now, dependent on him for all eternity.

♡ When he faces you, he can tell that you’ve reached the same conclusion. Still, you entertain the thought of moving to Hell—surely, there must be a way for you to live without forcing Pierro to expend his energy on you. That is when he grips your hands, pulls you towards him, and tells you that you aren’t leaving him. If the two of you are truly fated to suffer, then it is only right that he returns all of the love you have given him.

♡ It’s easy to persuade you. After all you’ve experienced, you’re tired so you just nod and lean into his embrace. And in the following days, you slowly adjust to your new life. You help Pierro around the forest. A new bed is built, to fit two people. At night, the two of you engage in your usual bedtime conversations but you’re the one who falls asleep first.

♡ When your former subordinate returns, Pierro stands his ground. With you asleep, he is able to fight them outside and easily subdue them; he even had the wisdom to enhance his weapons with blood from your used bandages. And with his argument that any attempt on his life is equal to risking yours, they have no choice but to accept your situation.

♡ You’re still asleep when he returns to your shared bedroom. Careful not to wake you, he changes out of his bloody clothes and leaves his sword on the table, next to his old mask. Then he takes off his glove and traces your features with his cursed hand. And when you open your eyes, the look he gives you is one of pure hope.

“Pierro? What time is it?” you mumble.

“Far too early,” he replies. “Go back to sleep. I will join you shortly, ______.”

“...All right.” Yawning, you snuggle into the pillow and close your eyes. “Can you wake me up later? I don’t want to oversleep again.”

He smiles, caressing your cheek. “If you wish.”

It doesn’t take long for you to return to the world of dreams. Your sleeping face is truly a wonder to behold—an expression so tranquil, well-rested, vulnerable to his kiss.

“And when you awake, I want you to tell me your true name.”

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Capitano ๑ Arlecchino ๑ Pantalone

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving characters or dynamics not included in my masterlist.

..…Don’t ask me how Pierro ended up with the highest word count in this AU. All I can say is that it was very cathartic to make him suffer, which is a recurring theme in his fics. If y’all enjoyed his story, do let me know (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

Also, soft launch for the next couple + story!! I’m rlly excited to write for Dainsleif, and just know that he’s in for a lot of surprises <3

Tag a Pierro enjoyer!! @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @naraven @euniveve @stickyspeckledlight @harmonysanreads @oofasleep @mistymem0ryy @lazyroseart @teabutmakeitazure

#yandere genshin #$ traded papers #yandere genshin x reader #yandere #yanderecore #tw: yandere #yandere gi #genshin x reader #yandere male #yandere pierro x reader

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