#and I felt like I wasn’t allowed to like horses anymore

[blackseafoam]

in the horse games direction... have you played The Ranch of Rivershine?

I have not, I just looked it up and it looks so cute though!? I’ll check it out for sure. I am most familiar with red dead and Star stable.

I am however extremely hyped for the Legend of Khiimori which is not only a horse game but takes place in MONGOLIA!!

[tiredfox64]

Can we all just take a moment to agree that Tomas is a sub with a massive breeding kink.

Poor, Desperate Tomas

Yip notes: I agree with you so much I made a quick fic. I don’t care if this was a statement or a request I am not paying my taxes. (FBI I joke you know me).

Pairing: Tomas x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: NSFW, breeding kink, mating press, creampies (I mean yeah that’s the point)

All Tomas ever wanted was a big happy family. A beautiful wife and a bunch of kids running a muck. A dream that drives his mind crazy and causes him to crave certain things.

After dating Tomas for a good two years you started to notice a change in him. A change that doesn’t just happen out of nowhere, at least you think it doesn’t. It weirdly happened after he spent time at Johnny’s place.

Looks like someone got curious and went on the computer. Things made sense to him after that.

He started asking you about having children and starting a family. He’d say he will help you out the whole way which you never doubted. The idea of having kids was tempting to you but you wanted to wait a little more. You weren’t scared that Tomas would be a bad father or that there would be issue with you. You’re as health as a horse! It’s more of you want to take more time to think things through to make sure your children would have a good future.

Nah, the moment you said you would like to have kids that’s when Tomas went mad. You didn’t know if it was love or lust driving him, it was most likely both. But you started having issue where you couldn’t get him off of you. He was like a dog in heat he was on a mission. That fact that you were on birth control wasn’t even on his mind anymore. It wasn’t even a barrier to him it was like a challenge. There was that small risk of you actually getting pregnant. Isn’t that the fun of sex?

The fun of sex is the risk of you getting pregnant. Your body will get all plump. Your belly will become larger with his children. You’ll have to depend of him to help you get up some days. He‘ll do whatever you want. He’ll even suck the milk out of your breasts once they feel too heavy—

You heard Tomas stir in his sleep, letting out a little whine. You turned over and ran your hand through his silvery hair. He woke up slowly, his eyes adjusting to the sight of you. The moonlight that slipped in illuminated you beautifully. That nightgown you had on was gonna be the end of him. He was whining and breathing heavily which indicated he wanted something. When you looked down you saw his bulge. His poor cock was desperate to get out of his pants.

“Please…” he whispered in desperation.

You knew what he wanted. Hearing him beg a little and seeing how ready he was got you wet immediately. You slid off your panties before throwing them over your shoulder. He was already pushing his pants and boxers off, allowing his cock to come out.

You crawled on top of him and had his tip press against your wet folds before sinking down. He let out sigh of relief the more you went down. Once you were fully down he was already thrusting a little trying to get more friction.

“So impatient.” You whispered.

You started bouncing up and down his length at a steady pace. Your hands rested on his abs to keep your balance. One of the best things about going raw is that you feel so much more. You feel how his thick cock stretch you out. You feel how warm he is. It makes you forget to control yourself and you end up bouncing continuously.

Tomas was trying his hardest to be quiet but how could he help himself. You felt so nice and warm. Occasionally he would thrust up without even thinking. His eyes were following your breast that popped out after your nightgown slipping down. He was already back to thinking about them being full of milk. He wonders what it would taste like. He hope if you would allow him to suck the milk out whenever you weren’t feeding the baby.

You have to make the baby first of course, genius.

You felt his cock twitch inside of you, letting you know he was about to cum soon. That’s when he pulled you down, his face buried in your chest. His arms wrapped around your waist to keep you in place as he fucks into you. His balls slapped against ass while his cock slipped in and out. Your nails dug into his shoulders trying to keep yourself sane from this pleasure. Then finally he came, thrusting deep inside of you to make sure it was all going in. His moans were being muffled by your chest but damn did you love hearing him. His legs were shaking by the end of it and you thought that was it.

No, no, no, he has fantastic stamina. Round two, let’s go!

Suddenly, you were flipped onto your back with your nightgown being pulled off you. You looked up at Tomas, surprised to see that he didn’t look tired at all. In fact his eyes seemed to show this sort of twinkle. You’re not sure what it meant but you would after.

His breathing could be heard while he pushed your legs back. Oh gosh, he’s putting you in a mating press. This is serious business right now.

Before you could ask if he was trying to get you pregnant he started slamming into you. The answer is yes. He is trying to impregnate you with his children.

It’s amazing how this position really gets the g-spot. Damn, it’s hitting every time. Now you’re the one struggling to hold back your moans. So what? He doesn’t care anymore. He’s letting himself moan freely, you should too. The whole temple could hear you two making babies it was bound to happen sooner or later.

Eventually it was all too much for you. Your legs started shaking as you began to cum on his cock. You had to bite down on your hand to prevent getting louder and disturbing everyone’s rest. Tomas didn’t slow down at all. His balls were still slapping against your skin and your wetness was causing sounds to be made every time he slipped back in.

“Fuck…you’re going to look so pretty when you’re pregnant. I’m going to make you such a pretty mama.” He said in a playful tone.

His mind is gone. He is but a feral man with primal desires. Desires to breed and make you his forever. Let others know who got you pregnant and who makes you the happiest. That man is begging for this moment to be the moment that you finally get pregnant. Then he can have this happy family he’s always dreamed out.

“Please, please, please have my babies. I know you’re going to be such a good mama. Please, I want to see you pregnant…” he babbles on as he cums inside of you again.

By the end of it Tomas was panting and sweating while you were left a bit sore. He was unsure about pulling out since he didn’t want the cum to leak out. Eventually he did but made you shut your legs to keep it from coming out. You laid on your side as Tomas went behind you to spoon you. His head rested on your shoulder.

You won’t lie that you enjoy what he does. It is very exciting and each time felt better than the last. And to hear him beg to have his children gets your heart pumping. It’s cute that he’s enthusiastic about being a father.

So even if this isn’t the moment where you get pregnant. Oh well, you’ll try again. And again. And again. And—

Oh for fuck sakes Tomas give it a break for one day!

“No!”

Oh you actually motherfucker-!

Bonus: In the next room over

Harumi could not rest with all the noise you two were making. She heard every word that Tomas was saying to you. She even heard the bed creak which let her know how rough he was going. She didn’t want to be rude but she needed sleep too. She wouldn’t be the one to confront you two so she started tapping on Kuai Liang who was knocked out.

“Kuai,” she poked him a little, “Kuai,” she said a little louder, “Kuai!”

“Huh? What?” He asked in a sleepy and confused tone.

“They’re making a lot of noise. They’re…making babies.” She whispered.

“Oh…good for them. We should try it some time.”

Kuai Liang yawned before turning back on his side and passing out immediately. She was left hearing his light snoring combined the lovemaking. All she could do was cover her ears with the pillows and wait for y’all to stop. Poor Harumi.

Yap notes: Literally was just thinking about this last night. I got a list in my head of who has breeding kinks and lactation kinks. Someone remind me not to eat in the middle of the night. Just wanted to do something quick so I typed this up on my phone. I really should start doing stuff for my class. Adiós!

[the-monkeies-girl]

It would absolutely make my week if you could write something with prompt 40 and 57 for our angel Prince blue 🙏🙏 enjoy your vaca also!!

40. Missing Them 57. Secretly Dating. 57 is my favorite trope i will die on that hill thanks.

Blue Eyes was unable to tear his gaze away from the way that your mouth was forming words as you discussed something with his Father, Caesar mounted on his black stallion with his Son only a few feet distance between the two of them.

Trotting the reins of his own horse a bit, he shifted his casing backwards to get a better view of you. Top of your head, the flurry of hair that draped downwards, to the beating of your jugular against your neck, paced quickly as you were speaking, throttling with the speech that Blue Eyes felt incredibly captivated by and left him feeling that unmistakable urge in the pit of his stomach again at the idea of touching his bare mouth to your equally appointed skin. Something he had yet to do, unsure of how to approach such an action but as your eyes flickered into his own azure stare for a moment, something that felt like eternity, but it wasn’t too far fetched anymore. 

A possible mate, the Ape Prince thought to himself and felt his mouth fall open as he stared a deepened hole into you. Barely blooming, Blue Eyes had no real indication what it felt like to court, if that’s what this was. If that’s what you were begging for on the very tip of your tongue as you peered at him, almost scrutinizingly so but he’d let you if it meant he kept your attention.

Morbid, but Blue Eyes sought it unknowingly like it was gravity itself. And to complicate matters was the aspect of your Human Nature, the way that you were hugged into a jacket in the moment when fur lined his entire body, captivating in darkened allure and musky scent that you wanted to bury yourself in. It was clear from your stance on the ground, your feet tugging together that both were unsure of the feelings caught like a fish. 

The agreement to keep silent on the idea and let it fester into something bigger much more enticing than letting the entire Colony know that Blue Eyes, the heir to Caesar, found prospect in… You. Too shy was Blue Eyes to admit to anything more though there was the pull in the back of his mind, too worried for your safety to admit anything more as he constantly had Koba sitting on his shoulder at moments that made your position with Blue Eyes all the more precarious but still the lingerance of wanting you near him at all time was drawing the Ape to the brink of insanity if he was not ever going to allow anything to actually come to fruition.

What felt like hive minds were brought back to the attention of Caesar who responded to your inquiry of how long the journey was going to take, the tender love and notion you put into the phrasing afflicted towards Blue Eyes only.

‘Only two full days. Should return by the night on the second day.’ His green eyes that were pushed like the forest looked towards the towering enclosure he shared with his family, including the Prince who had your attention even in the moments that Blue Eyes presumed himself to be alone. ‘Take care of Cornelia. This soon after birth…’

“Don’t worry.” You whispered for him and gave a reassuring smile that trailed towards the younger Ape behind his Father and fell into a more shaken state of adoration. “I’ll take care of her.”

Rocket had made his way to the front of the tally, resting beside Caesar and Koba who was intent on leading, prepared to take off. The appointed right hand man was there and the party was complete. There was no reason to stay near the horses any longer, you smiled at the Chimps in parting and moved back to look up at Blue Eyes’ broad form on the back of his horse. 

Regal, in all aspects, but you could tell from the slump of his sweeping collarbones gave you that he wanted nothing more than to return to the evening you two shared before this dawned morning, when you were alone in the woods, your shoulder brushing against his fur clad muscles as you muttered how much you were going to miss him while he was torn from your side to take in a trip with Caesar and the council to rummage a nearby Human camp that had only recently been abandoned. He was quiet beside you, nodding in agreement and only stiffened for a second as you leaned your head against his shoulder, careful as to not rest against the bruised and delicate skin that had been clawed by a bear. 

The sensation of your head against him was so Human and so foreign to Blue Eyes but he wanted it no other way, the familiar nature of his shattered emotions all too enticing to delve into as you were the one breaking the ideology in the first place. The delicate tethering of a relationship neither of you were sure about, an Ape and a Human. The shared and stoked glances you danced between, the way that you fumbled your fingers against his own when you offered him a wicker bowl to collect his meal in, the curt and shortened nod he gave you them. 

How he’d stare obliviously into the back of your head during council meetings upon the perch, only long enough to take in the pulls of your body from afar, Blue Eyes attune to how you looked so near to him that it was always amazing to captivate in how you moved from afar. Different than any Ape, the way your smile formed for him for a bit before you trailed around the Colony in search of something to keep you busy. Koba would say something in times like these, something about how disgusting it was you were parading around like you owned the place but Blue Eyes… Did not mind… As long as you paraded for him and him only. 

All a dream to Blue Eyes; all a figment that he never imagined happening as he glanced towards his Father and then back at you once the party departed the front entrance of the Colony, the chattering of other Apes at the departure hitting your senses as they were saying their goodbyes and good wishes to their King for a abundant travels with the hopes of learning even more of the region they made home so many years ago. Common place occurrences, you thought and it gave you a moment alone in a stunted crowd.

No one was paying attention and in melancholic silence he signed for you and only you, your heart jumping itself into your throat. ‘Will go by quickly. Will try to bring you back… the things you asked.’

‘Make sure to bring yourself back safely, too.’ There was a yearning to your motions, something that was attributed to the teachings that Blue Eyes gave you when you were alone otherwise your signing came off as extremely amateur and it was hard to communicate properly with the other Apes you were befriending. ‘Would not make it alone here without you.’

Watching as he took off, glances sunken you admired the gait of Blue Eyes svelte body that was presented on horseback. So strong and incredibly powerful, there was no doubt in your mind that the attraction was justified, your fingers twitching as you wanted to chase after him but your feet felt too heavy with a burdened promise to keep your admiration quiet for the time being.

 Blue Eyes gave you one more sign. His thick pointer finger against the lips you wanted to feel caressing your entire body, flattening into an extended and stretched palm onto his closed fist that could beat you into submission if he so chose, and you’d be recklessly romantic to let it happen. ‘Promise.’

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 30

read on ao3! (139k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Series tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 3.6k

Chapter 30:

Juliet's POV:

“Joel.”

His name caught in her throat like a burning hot coal. 

He stared down at her, his chest moving quickly as he struggled to catch his breath. A layer of sweat shone on his head, illuminated by the singular light hanging in the corner of the stables.

His eyes scanned her face. They were open wide, allowing Juliet to see the confusion and desperate fear burning around his pupils. 

“I have to leave,” she croaked out and forced her head to turn away from him as she bent to grab her bag. 

Juliet hadn’t moved an inch before Joel’s hand gripped her forearm, demanding her attention. Her head swung back to him. 

“Explain, now,” he commanded breathlessly, visibly holding his rage back.

Juliet swallowed and shook her head. Her eyes didn’t leave his face. 

All Juliet could hear in her mind was the memory of her father’s bitter cold words, smashing her entire life into sharp, foreign shapes. 

She didn’t know who she was anymore.  

How could she explain that to him? 

Her brain was screaming at her to push past Joel, to get on her horse, to find where she came from, to find out who she truly was.

But Joel’s grip on her was strong, stronger even than the hand holding her in place. 

Juliet wet her lips, then she lay her shattered heart at Joel’s feet:

“He wasn’t my father,” she whispered. 

Joel’s hand tightened as the line between his eyebrows deepened. 

“What?” 

“I remembered,” Juliet murmured, then cleared her throat and shifted her gaze to lock on Joel’s forehead so she didn’t have to watch his reaction. 

“I remembered what he told me that night… before you found me.”

Joel flinched and Juliet felt his fingers flex against her forearm as his jaw tightened. 

“He wasn’t my real father. Elijah -” Juliet’s breath caught as the foreign name left her lips. She had never referred to him by his first name; it tasted like ash in her mouth. 

“Elijah killed my parents, Joel, my real parents,” she whispered, not daring to say the words too loud, lest they become too real in her mind. “He told me right before he died.” 

Joel stayed silent. The tightening of his hand on her arm was the only assurance that he had heard her. 

“I have to go back -”

“No.” 

Juliet gasped as Joel’s other hand gripped her other arm, now locking her fully in his grip. 

“Joel, stop,” Juliet argued as she struggled against him. 

Joel shook his head as his eyes darkened even further in the low lighting. 

“Not a chance,” he ground out as his hands moved from Juliet’s arms to her waist and, with a deep groan, he lifted her up over his shoulder.

He started moving almost immediately, striding out of the stables as Juliet’s fists began to pound against his back.

“Let me go!” Juliet grunted. She was panicking now as her anxiety grew into a fierce flame in her chest. 

She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t know.

Juliet wanted closure, she craved it. She couldn’t close that chapter of her life now that her memory had wedged the door open. Juliet couldn’t push out the horror that seeped through the crack and pretend that she was healing, she had to confront it, she had to face it. 

She had to go back. 

Saying that to Joel, when he had fought and killed to save her from that place… Juliet almost choked on her guilt. 

But the knowledge that she wasn’t her father’s daughter, that maybe she wasn’t destined to end up like him, and that there might have been people who actually loved her… that desperate need to find out more was stronger than her guilt. 

Juliet’s world was upside down as she swung over Joel’s back.

Through blurry eyes she watched the grass he walked on descend into stones then into the concrete lining Jackson’s mainstreet as her fists slowed and her cries quietened. 

Joel wasn’t letting go. 

But neither was Juliet. 

When his weakened stride finally stopped, Juliet recognised the dark wood of his front door and she squeezed her eyes shut as she remembered her knuckles striking off of it all those months ago. 

“I’m gonna put you down and we’re gonna go inside and talk,” Joel instructed, and Juliet could feel the rumble of his voice against her chest. 

A small gust of wind blew against her face, drying the tears which had gathered under her eyes. Juliet waited for her feet to hit the ground. 

“You hear me?” he said louder, startling Juliet. 

She should feel angry that Joel stopped her and that, once again, he had taken away her choice. But Juliet’s rage was a tall candle in a frosted window; its flame burned quietly, but it couldn’t go anywhere. 

She was tired and she was restless. Her anger was second to the wild, desperate need within her to run, to listen to the voice that called her home.

It was difficult to remember that only hours ago she was at the dance, watching her friends twirl under the Christmas lights. It was still the same night, the sky hadn’t begun to lighten and yet everything had changed. She had changed. 

If only she had gone to bed, and not walked down those basement stairs. Juliet would have still be hopeful. Hopeful that she might become a whole person again, hopeful that her and Joel might be able to mend the cracks between them. 

In her basement, Juliet came face to face with the rotten mess of her soul once again. But this time, she could see a way to cut it out, to rid herself of it forever. She couldn’t give up that chance. 

“Yes,” Juliet agreed, her voice was numb and lifeless.

Slowly, Joel’s hands brought her back down until her boots hit the wooden porch. 

She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. Juliet knew that she would either see that same numbness reflected back into Joel’s eyes or worse, an echo of the hurt she felt. 

Joel reached around her and turned the handle on the door, pushing it open into the dark house. Juliet sucked in a breath when he drew near but forced herself to turn and step through the doorway.

She stood in the hall as Joel turned on the lights, moving slowly as he switched on the lamps in the living room. 

When he was done, the air turned expectant, like the house had awaited her return. 

Juliet looked up, searching for Joel and found him standing by the coffee table. He stood tall, his typical iron stance was in full effect. Juliet would have thought it was a usual night in Jackson for him, if it weren’t for his trembling hands curling into fists against his jeans.

The sight made something inside Juliet seize up. She wanted to rush to him and close her fingers around his. To get on her knees in front of him and beg for his forgiveness, beg for his permission to leave him, to leave this sanctuary.

Juliet knew that she didn’t need his permission. 

But god did she crave his forgiveness. 

Her footsteps were quiet and careful as she moved into the living room and sunk into the leather couch. Joel followed her movements like a hunter with a rifle. 

Then he took his shot:

“I shouldn’t have hit him,” Joel said, rubbing his fingers over his jaw. 

Juliet’s eyebrows scrunched as her heart rate slowed. Joel’s hand dropped suddenly and he shifted his stance, then met her eyes again. 

“If that’s what this is about… if i’ve scared you, if you wanna stay away from me, I get it,” Joel practically stuttered, his voice low as his hand tapped in a nervous gesture against his thigh. 

“No,” Juliet breathed, shaking her head. 

Joel continued as though he hadn’t heard her denial, maybe he hadn’t. 

“But you don’t gotta leave Jackson,” he ground out, as though the words pained him. 

“It’s not you, Joel,” she said quickly, “I have to go back. I have to know -” 

Joel’s cold laugh cut her off. 

His mouth was curled in that way she remembered from their time on the road, when Joel’s armour was thick and immovable. 

“No, see, I just don’t believe it,” he said with a shrug as he raised his hand in front of him, emphasising his point. 

Juliet straightened her spine. 

“I just don’t believe that you would be stupid enough, after everything we went through to get here, everything you went through… that you’d just go back out there,” he paused, running a hand over his face, “on some fuckin’ fool’s errand.”

Juliet flinched. 

She dropped her gaze to her hands and allowed her eyes to follow the trails of scars which littered her pale flesh, while she listened to the sound of Joel’s breathing.  

With a shaky sigh, Juliet stood, rising from the couch as Joel shifted his stance, sweeping his gaze up and down her body. 

With a trembling hand, Juliet caught the edge of her top and lifted it up until she met the edge of her bra. Then she stopped until she could meet Joel’s eyes. 

His black stare was glued to the brand on her stomach. 

“Remember this?” she asked quietly.

Joel’s eyes flashed to her’s. They were burning with what she knew as the cold, dark rage that simmered within him.

Juliet didn’t drop her hand, she let her father’s initials hang between them. 

“When I found out he was dead, I had this strange thought that he could never hurt me anymore, that maybe I could actually be rid of him,” Juliet began, stopping to laugh humorlessly at her stupidity.  

“Then I saw this,” she forced out, tilting her chin down to look at the letters burned forever on her skin. Her father’s claim on her. 

“And I knew that I was a fool,” Juliet’s eyes blinked up at Joel when she noticed him straighten. “I was a fool to think that I could ever escape him.” She paused, inhaling slowly. “I realised that in the QZ when he sent me that letter, and again when he forced the poker onto my skin.” 

“But the worst way I realised was when I started to kill people the same way I killed the infected. With no remorse, nothing but fear for myself, and… fear for you,” Juliet stopped suddenly, dropping her top and running a hand through her hair. 

“I thought that my father’s sickness had got to me through the blood we shared,” she whispered. “That I could never escape him because, in truth, I was just like him.”

Joel hadn’t moved; just stared down at her. 

“Then I went down into that fucking basement tonight,” Juliet laughed, rubbing her neck, “and it came back to me. He had told me what he’d done, but for some reason I just didn’t remember till now.” 

“He’s not my father,” Juliet said in a low voice, still struggling to verbalise her knowledge. “I don’t have to be like him anymore. Maybe the brand is the only thing left of him.”

Finally, Joel moved, shaking his head so viciously Juliet couldn’t help but take a step backwards when he took a step towards her. 

“You’re nothin like him,” he practically growled. 

Juliet’s eyes pricked with tears and she looked away, towards the door, then back to Joel. 

“Maybe,” she replied, inhaling another deep breath. “But I need proof.”

That broke Joel from his frozen state. 

He moved quickly, gripping her arms like he did in the stables. Gentler, this time, like his anger had been replaced by his terror. His hands moved up her arms, unable to settle on a place to touch her but unwilling to let her go. 

“I can’t stand by and watch you go on a suicide mission,” he fumed, his pupils flaring as he said the words. “Even if you make it there, and that’s an if, that town’s gonna be decimated. There’ll be nobody left.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw as he continued to stare down at her. His gaze wasn’t gentle; it felt like fire on her skin. 

“They barely had any food when we were there, and I killed their fuckin’ leader,” he scoffed. “It’s winter now,” Joel continued, “raiders will have got to them by now, you know that as well as I do.” 

He wasn’t wrong.  

Juliet felt the weight of his words land on her shoulders. 

“Danny,” she murmured, as the plan began to solidify in her mind, “Danny will know.”

“Who the fuck is Danny?” Joel demanded, tilting her chin up with his fingers until Juliet met his eyes. 

She swallowed. “He owned the bar,” Juliet clarified, “Ethan said he helped you both get me out.” 

Joel’s jaw shifted and his hand tightened on her arm, as though he was remembering that night in vivid detail. 

“What about him?” he said slowly. 

“He always said that he’d known me since I was a baby,” Juliet said lifelessly, “if anyone knows about my parents, it would be him.” 

Joel removed his hand from her arm to wipe it down his face as he groaned. 

“How’d you even know if he’s still alive?” he demanded, his voice hard and angry. 

“I don’t,” she whispered, blinking up at him. “But I have to go, I have to try.” 

He shook his head slowly.

“I can’t let you do this,” he decided.

Juliet stepped backwards, attempting to free herself from his grip, but he only tightened his hold on her.

“It’s not your choice, Joel,” she said quickly. 

“I’m not gonna let you get yourself killed,” he ground out, his eyes widening. 

Juliet flinched. 

“Don’t treat me like a child,” she whispered, repeating the words she said to him only hours ago, before they promised each other a future neither of them had the power to determine. 

“Don’t act like one,” Joel replied, standing taller. 

Juliet knew him well enough now. She knew that when Joel grew mean, it meant that he was frightened. 

But so was she. 

Juliet pulled herself from his grip, stepping backward until her legs hit the leather couch. 

Everything inside Juliet screamed to ask him to come with her. But she couldn’t. Joel had done too much for her already. She couldn’t ask this of him. 

Juliet had set her mind on this journey. She couldn’t live in Jackson and pretend that she didn’t know, pretend that the memory of Elijah wasn’t eating her up inside. 

Looking in his eyes, Juliet knew that Joel wasn’t going to let this go. Whether it be right or wrong, Joel would hold her down if it stopped her from putting her life in danger. 

He wanted to protect her, to keep her safe, even if it hurt her. 

Juliet squeezed her eyes shut when she remembered the look on his face that day outside her house, when he threw away everything they had built. Then she remembered, only hours ago, when he told her that he had done that for her, to protect her. 

She could do that too. 

That recklessness within Juliet was burning her alive from the inside. 

“I know about your daughter, Joel,” she said, forcing herself to look him in the eye, “Maria, told me.”

“Don’t,” he cautioned. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know you’re scared to lose people, but I can do this. I can look after myself.” 

“Don’t say another word,” Joel warned with a quick shake of his head, eyes locked onto her.  

She shouldn’t have mentioned his daughter. She thought that if he were angry at her he might let her go, but her words seemed to have the opposite effect. 

“Joel -”

His hands curled into fists against his jeans.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he said forcefully, “I’m not lettin’ you go.” 

He reached up to rub his neck and for the first time all night Juliet realised how tired he looked. 

“It’s late,” Joel reminded her, “let’s go to bed. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

From his tone, Juliet knew that his words were just to appease her. There would be no conversation in the morning. His mind was made up. 

‘Let’s go to bed’ 

Juliet almost teared up at the thought. 

She nodded and watched as Joel’s shoulders practically sagged with relief. 

He led her up the stairs with a gentle hand on the small of her back, not daring to let her walk behind him, lest she disappear. 

They lay on his bed, cushioned by his navy sheets and soft duvet. Juliet hadn’t realised how tired she was until her head hit the pillow and the crushing weight of the day fell onto her. 

She lay on her side, watching as Joel stared at the ceiling. 

Juliet ached to know what went through his mind in that moment. 

Just that morning, they had practically been strangers and now…

Juliet knew what she had to do. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t know; she couldn’t tuck that memory back in her mind and settle into life with Joel as though she had any idea who she was. 

No, Juliet had made up her mind. 

She only hoped that Joel would forgive her in the morning, when he found the space next to him empty. 

…………………………..

The winter sun pushed through the gaps in Joel’s curtains, spreading its rays across the room. 

Juliet rolled away from the window and swung an arm over her eyes, groaning. Then, like water had been poured over her, she sat up, suddenly reminded of where she was and what knowledge ran through her mind. 

Juliet’s breathing was heavy as she whipped her head to the side. Joel wasn’t there. 

Her feet hit the hardwood floor and she was up, speeding to the bedroom door as the fog of sleep still clung to the edges of her mind.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Juliet had meant to wake up at first light and sneak out without Joel realising, then head to the stables before the first patrol went out. 

She should have been gone by now. 

Her hand gripped the door handle and swung it open, then she was down the hall, swinging around the bannister as she raced down the stairs.

Fuck, she cursed herself. She’d missed her chance.

How could she be so stupid? To let herself sleep next to Joel, as though she’d ever be able to leave him like that?

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Juliet stopped.

Stopped so suddenly that she had to reach for the bannister to stop herself from falling forward.

To her left, in the living room, sat Joel, on the couch, his elbows on his knees, bent almost in a prayer-like position. 

His head swung up when he noticed her. 

“Joel?” she breathed as her eyebrows furrowed.

“I don’t like it,” he said quickly as he straightened his back then lifted himself off the couch. 

Juliet’s eyes dropped down his body until she noticed the boots on his feet, wet with what looked like fresh snow.

She opened her mouth to voice her confusion but closed it just as fast when Joel drew closer. 

“It’s a bad idea,” he continued, standing in front of her now. 

Juliet’s stomach had dropped to her feet. What was he going to do? Block the door? Prevent her from ever leaving? 

“Joel, I know this -” 

“Shh,” he interrupted, raising his finger. 

“You goin’ out there alone, it’s not happenin’” Joel declared, his voice had a frightening edge to it. 

Juliet swallowed, then opened her mouth to protest. But Joel’s rough finger on her lips stopped her. 

“If you’re determined to do this,” he said with a shake of his head, “I know I can’t stop you.”

Juliet nearly stopped breathing.

“We do this together,” Joel vowed, brushing his finger over her lips, “and when we get back… that’s it, no more puttin’ our lives on the line, no more fuckin’ suicide missions.”

Despite the terror swirling around her heart, Juliet’s lips stretched into a small smile and Joel followed the movement with his careful touch. 

“Agreed,” she whispered, tilting her head down in a nod. 

Joel stared at her for a moment, his eyes roaming over her features, then he dropped his hand and turned around, reaching for something on the coffee table. 

It was his jacket. She’d left it at the mess hall the night before. 

“Found this,” he said quietly, turning to look out the window as though he were suddenly shy.

Juliet put the jacket on immediately. It still smelled like him. 

“Spoke to Tommy,” Joel revealed as he ran a hand over his face, “he’s not happy about it but he’ll let us go, said he’d spare a horse.” 

“That was nice of him,” Juliet said, stunned. 

Joel coughed out a laugh. “Yeah, well, it better be worth it.” 

Juliet‘s guilt began to creep in again, but she didn’t let it fester. This was what she wanted, she was finally going to get the closure she craved. 

Joel had turned around, heading over to the shelf in the living room where he kept some supplies. 

“Thank you,” Juliet breathed, watching closely as he stopped moving and turned to face her again.

“I told ya, not lettin’ you go again,” he replied, his voice rough. 

Despite everything that lay ahead of them, despite everything that raged in her mind… 

Juliet smiled.

________________________________

@amyispxnk @casa-boiardi @http-paprika @shotgun-shelby @weeping-werewolf @mysaviorjoelmiller @chlojoceycom

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

3 - An Intrigue Drenched in Blood

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 8.6k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, animal death, discussions of child murder and infanticide, brothels, blood and violence, slight canon divergence

Notes: Previous Chapter Here, Things pick up from this point on, I assure you. Series Masterlist Here.

Bright and noisy was the state of Kings Landing as knights poured in from every corner of the most populous cities. All with their shiny armour and polished bravados like they were every bit of confident that they would win the winning gold and glory. They were never your kind of attraction even in your younger years here. The play fighting that so many of these men staked their life on, and of all the days to miss it was yesterdays which had the worst of action.

Not allowing the chance to even truly approach for a question, Ser Gregor Clegane otherwise known as The Mountain had speared the newly knighted Ser Hugh with a lance right through the throat. A space in his armour seemingly perfect for such an action and it felt hard to believe that it was nothing but a coincidence. Nothing in this city was a coincidence anymore it felt.

Walking towards the stands you passed by where curiously your King uncle was absent from his seat. Not a man to miss a spectacle you toyed with the ridiculous notion that he would ride in the event. Even now you could recall a time when you were thirteen and a tourney was on just like this one, you had stopped by the tent King Robert was in and admonished him for being so foolish to join.

It was easier to be comfortable with him in those days. You were sat up on a table, popping grapes into your mouth as you casually would remark that not only would no man dare hurt the King even in jest, but that the armour he was trying to fit in was about fifteen years too small. Were you not so close, he might have gotten you in trouble for such a comment. You couldn’t imagine even having a conversation with him that would allow for fun now.

The King was less miserable, and typically more reasonable and sober back then and you were still full of a youth like pep in this city. You still had the urge to explore the nearly fifty miles length of tunnels hidden about by the former dynasty and the pretty colours, bright sun, and vast diversity of lords and ladies impressed you. You still could walk into this city with a smile, unlike now. Maybe it was the loss of a childhood trait, or more realistically it was the adult understanding that this was a dangerous place and you’d be a fool to think otherwise.

You still wore the pretty dresses, and entertained the noble daughters whom were some degree of friends but the spark was gone from your eyes despite it all. This place and it’s people no longer giving you joy, instead just now a place of bloodshed and the tediousness of cleaning up after your King’s messes. No wonder your fathers scowl had deepened the lines in his forehead so much, you were beginning to think you’d return to Robb in Winterfell, stress having doubled your age on him.

Spotting Renly, he gave you a closed mouth smile of surprise as you pulled your skirt upwards to climb the steps before flattening it all out as you sat next to him. His voice was as light as ever, not that you expected much. “When you asked if I’d be here, I didn't actually expect you to show up. I thought this wasn’t your kind of thing, my dear niece.”

Tilting your head with a slight grimace you relented. “No, I can’t say I see the great appeal in cheering about men whose claims are they are young and very good at knocking men off horses with a stick.”

Nudging you with his arm, Renly smirked. “Shame, you could do with some fun in your life, shake up the terribly boring personality my brother passed onto you.” Glaring with only a flicker of your eyes to the side, you felt back a slight smirk as he just sauntered onward like nothing. “I hope for Robb Stark’s sake you aren’t such a rigid, bore in bed as well. Last thing one of those northerners need is less enthusiasm in their personal lives.”

Rolling your eyes, you took a breath before just passing him onto the truth. “I promised Shireen I’d go see a tournament, so I can write to her all about it.” You dared not look at him, knowing it was something unjustly vile about her on his tongue.

You think you could see him shrug somewhat beside you. “At least it gets you out for once, you and Lord Stark seem to be working way too hard for a King whose never going to thank you for it.”

Watching the very man approach, he nodded with an unblinking stare for just a second before sitting next to his daughter. No one thought your jobs, certainly not Hand of the King’s job was done for the sake of thanks. Not when the King had attended maybe two or three small council meetings over the course of the six years you’ve been sitting in on them to some degree.

Squinting in the bright sun, you shrugged with an otherwise flat expression. “Someone in this family should do the hard work for once, I may as well take over that mantle.”

Chuckling, Renly and yourself glanced over to the King making his own way to his seat finally, the bumbling sack of nerves and apologies that was his squire following suit with the wine. “Don’t be so harsh on our King, takes a lot of energy to fuck as many whores as he does at that age.”

The contenders next begun to ride up. Ser Gregor large and as brutish as ever on a large yet skittish black horse that seemed to be as unsettled as many felt looking at the man. On the other side, dressed in a bright and ornate armour with poise was his opponent. Curls atop his head neat and styled and a rose in his hand as he looked towards the stands near where you sat, for a subject to give it too.

Settling on the young redhead in the front stands a few rows from you, you could see the elation in Sansa’s shoulders as she gently accepted it. “Thank you, Ser Loras.”

Unnoticed to her as he took steps away, glancing up to the rows where you sat he glanced with a pointed glint in his eyes. Renly did not respond, but the words were there as there was solidarity in your silence. You would tease your uncle as he would you, but something between the dynamic you two had build up seemed to have been discussed in the men’s private affairs. Your teasing was never meant as anything but fodder for banter.

The shared look was not romantic, but they tended to stay away in public due to image. Much of the court knew about Renly, you weren’t as sure many, if any at all, outside of the small collection of whisperers, knew enough to say the same about the son of Mace Tyrell, heir to Highgarden.

In the seat below you and one above the two Starks, Lord Baelish turned with a jaunty grin. “A hundred gold dragons on the Mountain.”

Renly beside, did not hesitate. “I’ll take that bet.”

The two knights made their way to each side of the procession as the lower man begun to brag of his confidence. “Now what will I buy with a hundred gold dragons? A dozen barrels of Dornish Wine, or a girl from the pleasure houses of Lys?”

With a quirk of your eyebrow, you glanced at him. “You could even buy a friend.” The reaction was as satisfying as such a man could emote. A smile as if he knew a secret you didn’t and it only reminded you why bothering to speak to him was so grating. Lord Baelish not allowing for a moment to let another get the one up on him even in words he always felt compelled to have the final look, the final say.

The trumpets sounded out, both riders finally going towards the other as it only lasted for a mere moment. Loras’s Lance striking Ser Gregors shield and pushing him back. The large black horse fumbling in it’s steps as it fell into the wooden railings and knocking the large knight himself to the ground. The crowd cheering with delight as you felt the pride next to you.

Pride in both energy and voice as Renly shouted down smugly, “Such a shame, Littlefinger. It would've been so nice for you to have a friend.”

Standing up and turning to face you both with a quieter tone and a wider smile, you felt the creeping below your skin with a narrowing of your brows. “And tell me, Lord Renly. When will you be having your friend?”

Both of you said nothing, but the glares spoke many things all at once that the man only found amusement in as he turned back. You and Renly glancing at the other for only a moment of seriousness before you glanced back to the waving Ser Loras at the people. “Dare I ask how much gold you two are playing around with to come up with that little stunt?”

Renly laughed, the one thing about you that separated from your father is that you didn’t have to lecture to disprove. If the rich wanted to play with their money like jesting boys, you’d just let them it didn’t matter to you. Leaning in to whisper closer to your ear, “To be fair my dear niece, it wouldn’t have worked as well on any other horse. A man’s animal is only as wild as it’s owner they say.”

The next words didn’t come out of your mouth, as the sounds combined with what image flashed in the side of your vision gathered a mix of yells and stunned silence. Ser Gregor at some point having acquired his sword, took it through his horse’s neck in a single slice. The anger in him wild and untamable as he turned on his opponent, knocking Ser Loras to the ground only just missing from by strikes to his shield.

Both you and Renly standing at the action, Loras was good, but not good enough for that. Strike once twice, enough that you felt the bubbling anxiety in your chest before a growling voice came down from that of the King’s Stand to leave him be.

Striking his sword against his before each pushed away from the other, brother against brother stared the other down in a hatred that spoke more about themselves then it did defence of another. Ser Sandor Clegane, the brother of the giant Knight in front of him with half his face burned in a sear of fire for life. Half the hair on that side barley able to cover it beyond the strands coming from the top of his head that weren’t destroyed.

It wasn’t of any interest to you, nor did it matter, but you recall learning what such a mark meant and how it happened. The two now clashing swords, your eyes narrowed and your nerves grew tense in your muscles. This would get out of hand until more bloodshed arrived but only one man dared to interrupt such a commotion.

“Stop this madness in the name of your King,” The roar from the stands as King Robert stood was strong and echoing. Ser Gregor taking a final swing as the other ducked the blow with a surprising grace as he bent down to kneel, sword stabbed in the ground with a bow of his head.

You felt Renly’s own nerves ease beside you as the Mountain threw his sword to the ground with a raging huff and stormed off. The King yelling to let him go as the crowd parted in a justified terror. The Hound was not a man you enjoyed associating with, found too much pleasure in the necessary harshities of life and considered you to be as aggravating and dull as he did your father. However, he did follow around your wretched cousin for most of his days and that would make anyone angry.

The crowd cheered for Ser Loras and The man most just called The Hound as the smaller and younger raised the others hand in the air of victory, you and Renly sitting back down slowly.

Glancing at him, you could see a brightness in his eyes looking at the proclaimed Knight of the Flowers, and you couldn’t see it within you to give anymore passing jests at the matter. His new close association with the Tyrells struck you as an odd choice, and it pinged a distrust in your brain but you in no way had let it effect what a terror that would be for him.

Renly wasn’t a fighter of any kind, you weren’t even sure he had ever held something longer then a stick to play fight with and certainly had never been hit hard enough to bleed. It’s scary to imagine that you are forced to sit there and do nothing as the man you love has a blade shoved into him.

You perished the thought, you dared not let yourself imagine anything for the two faces which struck you as the scariest.

Sighing to yourself as you walked through the Red Keep you were thankful for the silence, the handmaidens appointed to you were fine girls, good at their jobs, but they were also giggly and chatty and fussed over you a bit too much. Having to tell them day after day, “I can walk myself through the castle halls my ladies, I assure you.”

When you were younger, it was either one of your fathers household guards that would keep and eye on you, or another who wasn’t sworn to serve but seemed to always know when you snuck off. Ser Barristan was in the sworn brotherhood of the Kingsguard, but he took a liking to you the day you arrived in Kings Landing. Not quite good at holding your tongue just yet, but you were still serious and respectful like your father taught you.

It was one day he had been sent by the King to fetch his niece so he could spend some time with you that he came across the most unique of sights. A wide area of Lord Stannis’s quarters had been pushed up against the wall and he stood in the middle with you, only aged thirteen, with a wooden sword in your hand.

He watched for a while, seeing the clever instruction your father was giving you. Ser Barristan knowing your lord father to be a formidable opponent and one that he would not wish to fight on the other side of a battlefield. Yet it wasn’t that style which he taught you.

You were less hacking and slashing, and more about swift movements and carefully timed slices that would cut down faster then your strength could overpower. After that, it was he who often found his way to accompany you when the King had no immediate need of him.

Days like this, you almost missed that. You didn’t want the hen chatter of girls fussing over you like you were the princess but you did miss the company of those who didn’t see fit to treat you like a dainty doll. Sometimes you had wondered if your strange mix of ladylike properness and a tendency to more lordly tasks was because of your father. He gave you and Shireen a lords education and such teachings led you to other interests.

To many you weren’t ladylike enough, but it wasn’t as if you pretended to be anything but the highborn lady you were born as. You enjoyed the company of other women, you took pride in your appearance like many, but you also spent much of your days as a teenager being kicked in the mud and hit with wooden swords by three teenage boys that had no qualms of making you feel like you were fine at being both.

However, as you heard a groan of frustration and tiny pattering of feet scampering beside you as it dodged into the hall, you were met with an amusing sight. Arya was covered in a layer of sweat and grime as well as what appeared to be scratches along her forearms when she stopped. Bending forward to rest her palms on her thighs as she caught her breathe, only flinging back up in surprise when you chuckled.

Slowly approaching, you didn’t bother hiding a smirk. “Such a ghastly state of dress for a highborn girl such as yourself, Lady Arya.” Your chuckle bellowed to a much heartier laugh at how quickly she told you to shut up.

Coming closer to you, she plopped herself down onto a small series of steps as you carefully sat down to join her. “Syrio has me catching cats. If I can be quick enough to catch them, then I’m quick enough to move around my opponents.” You smiled fondly at her, exhausted and covered in scratches that looked unseemly like looking at your once self.

Glancing up, you kept your eye on the black cat hiding around the corner. Peeking it’s one ear’d head out occasionally to eye it’s chaser. “You’re smaller then a normal target. They’re stronger but if you’re faster then them, that’s how you get them before they get you.” When she looked at you with a curious question in her eye, you shrugged looking back to the black cat. “It’s what Jon told me when he started to teach me how to swing a sword.”

Looking up with narrowed brows she asked, “I thought your father taught you?”

Nodding, your fingertips started to tap at the other in a fidget. That memory was still clear as it was when it happened. “Sort of. You were just born, you wouldn’t remember any of it. But it was one night I couldn’t sleep and I ended up wandering into the training yard. I was fooling around with one of the training swords, no idea what I was doing at all. And before I knew it, Jon had snuck up behind me and hit me in the legs with one and I just fell to the ground.”

Arya looking a bit taken back, but you laughed. “We all used to rough house a lot more back then, me and your brothers. He and Robb were around fourteen or fifteen by that point, and I was twelve. So just shy of being too old to pick on girls anymore.”

Moving to tuck her knees closer to her chest she wrapped her arms around them. “So what, he hit you and then..?”

You mimicked the same position, “At first he joked that if I was going to play with swords I should at least learn to not turn my back unguarded. But then he asked if I really wanted to know how to use one.” Feeling far away, the girl next to you disappeared as well as the castle walls around you. “I think we met up after everyone went to sleep for three weeks straight. He taught me some basics, then realized I would learn a bit better if he didn’t teach me how to fight like him, but how to fight against someone like him.”

Smiling to yourself, it was during those nights all to yourself that had done you two in. You weren’t a lady in that moment, and he wasn’t a bastard. You were just you and Jon, your best friend guiding you how to fight simply beacuse you wanted to know and he wanted to teach you. You got roughed up a lot, in the privacy of the night, Jon certainly didn’t shy away from grabbing and throwing you around when you got too cocky.

“When I returned home, my father recognized what kind of cuts and bruises they were, instantly. I never told him who did it, I was scared he’d write to Lord Stark and Jon would get in trouble. But he never got mad at me. No, he figured if I wanted to learn and I already was, then he saw no reason to not continue himself.”

Those days you think were some of the last time you and your father so easily got along. He smiled and laughed during those lessons in his quarters, proud of his daughter so keen on learning the things that helped made him the Lord he was. You hadn’t seen your father so freely smile like the did on those days in a very long time. It was the last time he felt truly like your father, and not more like your Lord.

Lost in thought for more then you assumed, Arya’s voice startled you. “Does it bother you?” Glancing down at her, but she was looking at her feet not you. “Having to act like a lady when you want to do things the boys do?”

Considering for a moment, you saw no reason to sugar the truth. “For a while it did. When I came to Kings Landing for the first time, everyone treated me like a fancy highborn lady when both on Dragonstone and in Winterfell, people just treated me more like who I was already.”

Formality of such high luxury certainly was not common on Dragonstone. Being doted on and cared for like it was a waste of your effort to lift a finger that much was not the way of your father. You didn’t have so much done for you, that you forget what it means to earn your keep through your own means.

“But, I think I had to learn that it wasn’t being a lady that I didn’t want.” Glancing down to her, who now was looking at you with wide eyes. “It was just that I didn’t want to be the kind of lady people like the Queen wanted me to be. I’m nothing like Sansa, but I’m as much a lady as she is.”

Arya looked away quickly, a flash of long hurt in her eyes that you knew stemmed from a sister who didn’t treat her well. “My father wants me to be like her.”

Not even a second hesitation did you spend, “He doesn’t.” Turning to face her properly, you called her name firmly. “Arya. Fathers will always want things for their children, things that they have no way of knowing what we’d like about it or not. He’s not a mind reader, he can’t see the future you want for yourself and sometimes accepting that it’s different then what he envisioned takes time. But he adores you, and he would never tell you to be someone you can’t be.”

Running a hand over her hair, you could feel her trying not to lean into it. Trying to look impassive instead of upset as you continued. “We’re not all going to get the future we dreamed of, but that doesn’t mean your father wouldn’t support your choices no matter how different from Sansa’s they are at the end of the day. He went out of his way to hire Syrio to teach you something he first said wasn’t for girls. He wants you happy, even if it doesn’t lead you to the future he wants or you want.”

“Like how you didn’t get the future you wanted?”

Taken back, you didn’t understand her words but there was no anger or judgment in them as she elaborated. “You didn’t get to marry who you wanted, but every time I see you writing or opening a letter Robb sent you, you still smile in the same way my father does at my mother.”

Not in these open walls would you broach that. Not sure of what she knows or suspected or if you were just projecting onto her. You smiled, and your next words echoed the very thing Jon told you would be what was in store for you. “I’ve known Robb since I was eight. He’s easy to fall in love with.”

Your lips remembering his, and how easy it was to let his touch and his deep words make you lose yourself in him. But also the boyish grins whenever he teased you, the lack of worry you had knowing you could say anything to him and there’d be only support. Even before.

Somewhere in your heart was something far different that needed not thinking of now, or even if you had to think long enough to be real with yourself. But it was locked away for a reason. You couldn’t take that feeling with you, you had to let it go in order to give Robb who you really were. Not just pretend.

That part of your heart, had been captured protectively by the other. That part of your heart now sat heavy alongside that of the wolf who took it with him. That part of love was tucked away safely at the Wall with the one who insisted you not take it with you. You were with Robb now, and no matter what one part of you said, the other part of you yearned to see Robb and actually be happy. You did want it.

“Sometimes the things we want, aren’t the things we originally asked for. But that’s part of duty, how to be just and firm in our choices. Whatever your duty becomes, you have to learn to want it. Otherwise it’ll just eat away at you.”

Glancing up, you saw the little tomcat start to inch away down a stairwell, pulling a smirk as you nodded your chin over to it. “I hope you really want that cat, Arya because he’s about to bolt.”

Her head whipping up, you watched her leap to her feet sprinting down the hall as the little black cat sprinted off faster. As Arya grumbled loudly, you laughed freely.

Much true of words, you didn’t come here wanting to be wrapped in the tendrils of liars and spiders, but as you entered Lord Stark’s room? The very spider sat in the seat across from him, his face somewhat less apprehensive as it was you who entered, not one of mistrust. “My lady.”

“Lord Varys.” You did not sit int he seat beside him, coming to the end of Lord Stark’s desk and leaning back against the wall closest to it, arms crossed as you and him shared a look. His eyes steady and serious as you nodded. “Am I interrupting?”

Cordial and showing no intent, yet he never fooled you. “Not at all, in fact it makes it easier to share such sensitive information while you both are here.”

Lord Stark stared intently at the man, trying to gauge just as you. “Lord Varys seems to think the Kings life is in danger.”

“Oh I don’t think, Lord Stark. I’m afraid I know.”

Your posture couldn’t be more uptight and rigid as your stoned face, but you found no patience in playing nice as Lord Varys did. “Are you speaking of the same kind of danger that killed Jon Arryn?”

A slow nod, his voice was even as if none of this effected him. Despite his very presence and confidence of truth saying otherwise. “If you suspect Lord Arryn was poisoned, it would need to be one that was fast and utterly incapacitating if given the proper dose.”

“If we suspect?” Your emphasis on the doubt of we as in you and Lord Stark had Varys raise an eyebrow to you.

“I assure you my Lady, I don’t act on questions or doubts.” Glancing between you and Lord Stark he settled on what appeared to be the one who relaxed his trust more. “The tears of Lys, they call it. A rare and costly thing, as clear and tasteless as water. It leaves no trace.”

Lord Stark rose, pacing in thought towards the open air of his balcony. Your jaw clenching in consideration of the idea. What Grand Maester Pycelle had said, he seemed confident at first it must have been natural causes. If he didn’t sense a foul attribute then this ran deeply, did it not?

Asking who would give it to him, his voice was muffled as he still looked out to the city. Lord Varys playing such a game that irritated you. Telling you what you already know, but in a riddle to avoid any prying listeners to the subject. Never close to a man who says what he means. “Some dear friend, no doubt. But which one, there were so many. Lord Arryn was a kind and trusting man. There was one boy, all he was he owed to Jon Arryn.”

Squire to Knight upon his masters death, and yet once the master was dead soon was the squire turned knight. Something was tying up it’s loose ends but the ends of what? Lord Varys only saying whoever paid Ser Hugh would’ve been someone able to afford such a price.

His hands pressed against the top of his chair, the same yarns spun in Lord Starks head. You looked from him to Lord Varys. “Jon Arryn was Hand for over twenty years, why kill him now?”

Leaning forward, he spoke of something he knew the answer to and yet still forced you and Lord Stark to form more of that very thing on your own. “He started asking questions.”

There was no way of knowing how haunting this meeting would be to you one day.

The ferocity of your Uncle as he called a meeting of the small council himself told everyone whom didn’t already know the newest update, that something was about to explode. King Robert was the most blatant example of the fury of a Baratheon as any of you living now.

Something akin to madness was in his eyes as you watched him arrive, there was a calmness in both Lord Varys and Renly, a curiousness in Grand Maester Pycelle as he arrived and a difficult to read Lord Baelish who was the only other one present then Pycelle who didn’t know. As Lord Stark finally arrived, walking in you wondered how much of a unified front it appeared to be.

Niece and brother on both sides of the King Baratheon and a horrific message displayed. The only time your King uncle did not mince words, was now. Drenched in anger and vengeance that did not sit comfortably in your stomach. He looked at Lord Stark with all the vitriol he could, spitting out in anger “The whore is pregnant.”

Lord Stark hardly finding it in him to care for hiding his disgust but they fell on the Kings deaf rage.

It was like he didn’t even hear the man speak. “I warned you with would happen. Back in the North, I warned you but you didn’t care to hear. Well hear it now. I want them dead, mother and child both, and that fool Viserys as well. Is that plain enough for you? I want them dead.”

You hadn’t been born until two years after the rebellion ended, you’d never seen him in a place that wasn’t in times of peace and yet he ranted and raved as if all three of them were armed and blooded at the gates. This was not a man you recognized, this was a man who spoke of an unborn child with the same he did of Rhaegar Targaryean.

Lord Stark’s tone was deep, cracking with a shocked twinge at who this man was. “You will dishonour yourself forever if you do this.”

The fury grew louder as he spoke. “Honour? I’ve got seven kingdoms to run. One king, seven kingdoms. Do you think honour keeps them in line? Do you think it’s honour that’s keeping the peace? It’s fear. Fear and blood.”

Your father had a similar idea but never in a lifetime would it be in a manner like this. Lord Stannis felt that if people don’t fear you they won’t follow you. That if you can’t scare the wicked away then the good will not stick around to be picked off by what you refuse to pluck out. If you don’t pull the weeds out by their roots with determined force, then they will overtake the garden and nothing good will stay to grow between the rot.

Your voice was rough, as if your throat was scratched in need of water but it was hissed out without much care for hiding the feeling building. “Fear and blood isn’t far from fire, now is it?”

The King turned to his left to look at you, but you did not flinch back at the rage nor the spitting words from his mouth as he said your name. “Careful now. You’re my niece but you watch that.”

“You’re chasing shadows twenty years removed, shadows you can’t even be sure are real.”

Lord Varys far calmer then the other member still glaring your way. “My lady, you wrong me. Would I bring lies to the king and his council?” You both stared at one another, and in just a brief moment so quick you could’ve imagined it, there was a flash of something in his eyes.

Something like what he found in yours unsettled him. The way you know for a fact, he had looked at Lord Stannis many times over. Lord Stark asked who even provided the information. The spider’s answer did nothing but leave the wolf and little stag unconvinced. Or you supposed, given the calm manner which Renly refused to challenge and the true fury in the other?

Perhaps the two unconvinced members of this council, were indeed two wolves.

“Jorah Mormont. He is serving as advisor the Targaryeans.” You huffed a breath of disbelieving laughter at such a spy. As Lord Stark looked as unimpressed, he himself having much more direct reason to press to them that he wasn’t to be relied on.

“Mormont? You bring us the whispers of a traitor half a world away and call it fact?” Lord Baelish trying to reason that being a slaver is not the same as a traitor and yet only traitors would betray their loyal family and flee across the sea to escape whatever sentence justice demanded from him. You took no part in entertaining slave traders.

“And if he’s right?”

Glaring once more at your king, “And if she miscarries, if the child dies in infancy? We do not plan murders based on a whispers of what if, your grace.” Your name spat once more but you did not hear. “You mean to fear someone who doesn’t even exist yet so much, that you’d murder it in their mothers womb and call that anything but that of a coward?”

King Roberts face almost red from fury as he once again hissed your name. “I told you to watch yourself or have you forgotten who is king here?”

You stared at him as still as possible, not recognizing this as your uncle. This King was a stranger.

“No, your grace. Have you?”

Lord Stark speaking up before the King took a chance to raise his voice so loud it booms through the seven kingdoms. “The Narrow Sea still lies between us. I’ll fear a Targaryean child the day the Dothraki teach their horses to run on water.”

Looking in shock between you both, he yelled at the others to talk sense into you two.

Lord Varys took his chance, looking to Lord Stark notably as opposed to you both. “I understand your misgivings, my Lord. It brings me no joy delivering this news to the council. It is a terrible thing we must consider, a vile thing. Yet we who presume to rule, must do vile things for the good of the realm, however much it pains us.”

Grand Maester Pycelle took his reasoning, a rational approach to a fruitless endeavour. “I bear this girl no ill will, but should the Dothraki invade, how many innocents will die? How many towns will burn? Is it not wiser, kinder even, that she should die now to tens of thousands live?”

Tell that to the unborn child you refuse to give a chance, you thought to yourself.

Renly finally spoke, and you felt that weight in your chest plummet down and slam you hard into the floor. “We should have had them both killed years ago.”

Your eyes blazed as you looked at him, across the table. His were with no guilt even. Of course, the brother handed everything he did not earn nor deserve by the brother he now sat beside advocating for what he sees as the least amount of effort for the most unfair of results. Lord Baelish spoke somewhere to your left but you did not break your eyes from Renly.

“When you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman, best close your eyes and get it over with. Cut her throat, be done with it.”

The men here all sickened you but none as vile as Lord Baelish. Not even King Robert’s rage made you feel as if you were covered in the slime from a swamp from his voice alone.

Lord Stark looked his old friend right in the eye. “I followed you into war, twice. Without doubts, without second thoughts, but I will not follow you now. The Robert I grew up with didn’t tremble at the shadow of an unborn child. I will have no part in it.”

“You’re the Kings Hand, Lord Stark. You’ll do as I command or I’ll find me a hand who will.”

Lord Stark’s only action, was to look his friend in the eye as he pulled off the pin of his position, and tossed it onto the table as it landed with a clunk. “And good luck to him. I thought you were a better man.”

The yelling went on for some time. Not a single one of you with the capability to have him calm his fury and the unravelling of what once made him a King fell before your eyes. As some finally begun to leave, you sat in your seat before projecting loudly. “Your grace? A word?”

Room emptied out, he turned to you. His voice quieter but not without it’s rage. “You have a lot of gall to speak to your king like that, girl.”

Not moving an inch your eyes blazed towards him with a narrowed brow. “Speak to you like what? Like you’re a coward afraid of an unborn infant?”

“A coward-”

Slowly pushing yourself up, you braced your palms on the long table. “Tell me, your grace. What happened the last time a half Targaryean babe was murdered along with their mother? How well did that serve us in the long run, or I am I just supposed to assume that House Martell has forgiven all of that?”

King Robert stormed closer, leaning his fists much like you did your palms. With a tilt of his head you felt as if he somehow still towered over you. “They were that son of a bitch’s own children or did you forget that too? You’d have them alive now and walking around doing gods know what just beacuse doing what needs to be done isn’t honourable?”

“This isn’t about honour,” Your own voice finally rose to a proper shout and your uncles head jolted back as his eyes widened for a moment. “I’m talking about justice. You aren’t an honourable King for doing this, but you’re certainly not giving Lyanna justice by murdering women and children who’ve done nothing.”

“She hasn’t been done right by until every member of that family is dead-”

He leaned forward and so did you. “You served her justice. You killed Prince Rhaegar at the Trident, you were the jury and executioner for his crimes and blaming those who weren’t even there or alive for it has nothing to do with Lyanna and you can’t serve a just sentence for something that isn’t even close to have happened yet.”

You weren’t fool to think you got through to him, but he was lost in thought for just long enough for you to find the limit of your handling be reached. “Don’t do anything to people who haven’t proved a harm to you. That unborn child is someone you’ve never met, you have no idea what they could grow up to become, uncle.”

Passing by, he was simmering down as you were when you stopped beside him. “I’m not even telling you what to do about the girl. You choose to kill her, and just her I will not argue. But you cannot punish an infant just beacuse they have drops of Targaryean blood somewhere in their veins. You have no idea what that child could turn into, and if they are a threat? Then we serve out that justice. But only when justice is required.”

You got to the door before he spoke, voice raised to catch the distance as he turned to look at you.

“It doesn’t matter what you two do. If I won’t give it to him, I won’t give it to you.”

You shook your head, a sad sigh breathing from your lips. “I wasn’t asking for it, your grace. And with all due respect, I’m not just your niece. I’m his daughter. Not yours. I wasn’t raised to think you were ever in the right towards him.”

The door which closed behind you sealed you and Lord Stark inside. You have to admit, there was nothing more of a bizarre shock to the day this had been, then being told Lord Arryn and Lord Stannis had visited this brothel together. You father alone being here was enough to conjure an image of him that you wondered how rigid and emotionless you came across to these woman as he likely did.

Lord Baelish had urged you and Lord Stark to visit his establishment, to see the last person Jon Arryn visited before his death.

The girl in front of you, her name Mhaegen, was little more then a child. Younger then you, but you doubted with your heart that were you to ask Lord Baelish how old she was, that he’d give you an honest answer. In her arms, was a stunning baby girl.

Bright green eyes, already the makings of a strong face of dark hair and once more a ping inside you clung. Two actually, but the first one was how much of a Baratheon this little girl was. “She looks like him, don’t she, My lady? She has his nose, his black hair?”

You stood slightly in front of Lord Stark, running your finger down the girl’s cheek. She looked so much like Shireen did at that age, you wondered if you held her, would she yank at a stand of your hair until your head was leaning cuddled against hers. Something your new baby sister had loved to do when you could still hold her at that time.

But this baby wasn’t just a reminder of your sister, it wasn’t even a clue of mystery about how this all connected to Lord Arryns death. No, you were looking at this baby girl, your raging Uncle’s bastard daughter and you were stunned by this was your cousin.

This small girl was your cousin like Joffery was, and yet this girl smiled weakly as you tickled the side of her neck with a coo and a smile. How many of them were in this city alone? How many of them didn’t have a clue that they belonged to a family that could give them life outside of the poverty of flea bottom?

Lord Stark stepped up beside you, as the no doubt teenage girl looked to him. “I named her Barra. Tell him when you see him, my lord. If it pleases you, tell him how beautiful she is?”

Lord Stark said he would, but you both knew it would not matter. The King barley had any love in his heart shown towards his own children, for as many faults as Queen Cersei had no one could doubt the love for her children was a real as her hair was blonde.

Children, babies, that meant nothing to the man your uncle had become.

“And tell him I’ve been with no one else. I swear it my lord. By the old gods and the new. I don’t want no jewels or nothing, just him. The King was always good to me.”

The gods have mercy what a web of lies King Robert had played this girl up to, to think he’d ever entertain her as more then something to warm his bed and little Barra as anything but a bastard to cast out beacuse highborns like the King had no use for anything that didn’t bear his name or his house’s titles.

Perhaps becoming a Stark was the final nail hammered in that deemed you not one of him anymore.

Lord Stark asked what it was Jon Arryn wanted, and to the only amusement you found that day, she looked almost worried she painted the wrong idea of him. “He wasn’t that sort of man, my lord. He just wanted to know if the child was happy. And healthy.”

He looked at the glee on the young mothers face at her babe, the longing and tragedy deep within your eyes barley hidden by a steel mask that weight you down. He ran his hand over the baby’s foot gently as he spoke, “She looks healthy enough to me. She’ll want for nothing.”

He didn’t have to pull you physically, but it seemed like tearing away from the girl was a cruel task. Just an infant who had a lifetime of poverty and neglect in front of her all beacuse your King Uncle had no taste for self decency. You thought too of the one in the armoury, Gendry. How learning of who his father was, would come as no comfort considering the sort of man Robert Baratheon was proving himself to be.

No child deserved to grow up fatherless, but perhaps knowing who they are could hurt or disappoint then thinking they were just a no one. Joining Lord Stark into the next room where Lord Baelish looked as relaxed as ever and you felt as rigid as ever.

It wasn’t such a place that bothered you, but it certainly was the eyes and ears of who owned it and for what. You wondered if there was even any women in this establishment who didn’t fuck just to fill Lord Baelish’s need for information.

“What do you know about King Robert’s bastards?” Lord Stark had asked him.

With a sly grin, it was impossible to tell which he looked at more. The proper Stark, or you. “Well, he has more then you for a start.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you pushed it down as far as it could go.

“How many?”

Lord Baelish glanced at you with no doubt this time, before sliding them back to Lord Stark. “Does it matter? If you fuck enough women, some of them will give you presents.”

Presents being children who will never feel like their apart of a world that respects them.

Lord Baelish gave you no answer as he walked slowly to you, Lord Stark, and the accompanying Jory to the door. Something inside you was screeching and yelling, like it had the answer to something you weren’t quite at yet. It made your heart pound, but it also set your blood alight like it burned. You didn’t know why, and yet what arrived outside for you was it’s own present that intended to ruin.

Members of the Lannister guard surrounded the area, standing two to one of the Stark’s own household guard their spears at the ready. All three of you slowly wandering into the streets slowly, your lips parted as galloping came forth until a horse with Jaime Lannister sat atop came by. “Such a small pack of wolves.”

He was not a foe you could beat, nor were you prepared for such at all kind of fight. Not truly. Jory using a calm reason to such aggression. “Stand back, Ser. This is the Hand of the King.”

The eyes on him were glinting with smugness but anger. “Was the Hand of the King. Now I’m not sure what he is, Lord of somewhere very far away.” Climbing off the horse, he paced every so slowly with a bravado only a true dangerous fighter could pull off like he could. “I’m looking for my brother. You remember my brother, Lord Stark? Blond hair, sharp tongue, short man.”

Lord Stark steady and calm as you were with a heart that wanted to strangle your lungs from within, “I remember him well.”

Looking to the side at nothing, there was as smirk that seemed to think the northerners cared to play such a game, or you for that matter. “It seems he had some trouble on the road. You wouldn’t know what happened to him, would you?”

He had done none of that, but Lord Stark did not go against his wife’s actions even for a single second as he declared, “He was taken at my command. To answer for his crimes.”

Lannister men shaking their amour as some reached for a better hold on their weapons as the lion pulled his. “Come, Stark. I’d rather see you die sword in hand.”

Moment of anger, or naivety, or just a helpless love you stepped forward with sharp narrowed eyes, “If you threaten my lord again-”

Lord Stark held a hand out, gently keeping you in place and by his side despite the lion pointing his sword with a smirk. “Threaten? As in, I’m going to open your lord from balls to brains and see what Stark’s are made of?”

“You kill me, your brother’s a dead man.”

It all happened so fast, Jaime turning to his own, “Take them both alive, kill his men.”

You had little on you, a small blade that you pulled from a pocket that fit in the palm of your hand almost. You sliced it at the weak softness on the Lannister armour of the one who approached you, crying out as blood split from the cut and you ducked to avoid his counter.

You were fast but it was against too many and a woman whom had no armour, only a dress, and no real weapons to speak off as the Stark guardsmen were taken out most by surprise. As you moved, almost punching into the neck of a Lannister one it punctured a wound enough to have him sputter up and fall to the side as Jaime Lannister shoved a small dagger of his own into Jory’s eye.

Stood in shock for just long enough that the rest were overwhelmed until it was them against the two of you. Lord Stark pulling his own sword, you were suddenly hauled backwards by two arms which didn’t feel like armour was behind them.

Lord Baelish’s voice in your ear as you fought against him was a whisper, “You’re far more useful alive then dead, my dear.”

You were not strong, something Jon, Robb and your father all trained to to keep in mind. Even a man like Lord Baelish could keep you as long as he tried harder then your muscles did, but you couldn’t. You watched the two men clash swords, Jaime confident and Lord Stark desperate. You had hardly seen the Lannister fight in person, but he must have been quite good as for the briefest of seconds?

Lord Starks sword pushing him backwards, his eyes flickered between the man and the weapon worried that there might be a possibility that he loses. Just as Jaime lost the upper hand, one of the Lannister guards stepped forward.

With a harsh push, stabbed his spear into Lord Stark’s leg bringing him to his knees. Already shaking, you gasped with what little breath remained as the hold keeping you from the fight loosened. Enough to slip your arm just enough to lunge back into the middle of his chest.

Jaime standing back in hesitation, watching as you rushed to his side, uncaring of the sweat and blood staining your arms and dress as you grabbed Lord Stark to keep him from collapsing entirely. He shook from the pain and blood loss, you shook from the shock and pathetic cry of how useless you were in a place like this gods forsaken city.

Jaime Lannister climbed atop his horse, turning in place as he gave you both one last look that radiated of both anger and something like a sympathy that you wished you could snatch away and shove down his throat until it choked him. “My brother, Lord Stark. I want him back.”

The City Watch had found you like that, a barley conscious Eddard Stark with a spear in his leg as you looked to the dead around you. Killed for what? In retribution of a man who tried to have a ten year old boy murdered twice?

The weakening look in Lord Stark’s eyes as he grew weaker, your lungs did not breathe nor did it feel like your heart ever stopped threatening to explode from your chest.

For a reason you could not explain, the sight or the light and angle making his appearance remind you so close to that of his son, you for a brief second imagined Robb in his place.

You didn’t understand why your mind conjured such an image, but you knew it horrified you all the same.

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 9: Hold

You and Joel go on your first patrol alone. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-8 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 6.8k 

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Hey Bambi!” Tommy jogged up Joel’s front steps and leaned against a post, examining you. You were tucked into a corner of the porch, your back against the front of Joel’s house, guitar on your lap. You stopped playing, looking up at him as he smirked a little at you. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here. Didn’t know you played!” 

“Oh Miller,” you sighed. “I imagine the things you don’t know would fill several libraries.” 

“See, Bambi, this is why I’m glad I’m not goin’ out on patrol with you anymore,” he clutched his heart, mockingly wounded. “You’d just try to kill me out there without Joel to hold you back.” 

“You really think Joel could stop me if I wanted to kill you?” You teased, brows raised. 

“You really think I’d try to stop her?” Joel was standing inside the doorway, arms crossed, the screen door the only thing between him and the outside. “She’s tryin’ to kill you, you probably deserve it.” 

You smiled a little, liking the small intimacy of the front door of Joel’s home sitting open when you were there. In the weeks you’d been playing guitar at Joel’s, you’d made a lot of progress. Once you’d mastered Bad Moon Rising and House of the Rising Sun you started going through the CDs at your house, finding songs you used to know and refreshing your memory. You practiced chord progressions on the handles of shovels in the stables and hummed the melodies as you worked with the horses. When the work was done, you’d get cleaned up and go to Joel’s. 

You’d never explicitly said you would be coming by all the time but he quickly grew to expect it, often meeting you on the porch with the guitar in hand before you even had a chance to knock on his door. 

He usually left you to it, disappearing back into his house - always reminding you that you were welcome to come inside any time you wanted - but he sometimes would sit on the porch with a book or a cup of tea, politely looking toward the horizon to not make you uncomfortable. You still caught him glancing your way every few minutes but you never said anything. 

“I want to hear you play,” you said one night when he met you on the porch. 

He laughed a little.

“Promise you don’t, Bambi,” he held the guitar out to you but you didn’t take it, hands in your back pockets. 

“Yes I do.” 

He sighed and shook his head but smiled a little. 

“Please?” You asked, thumbs anxiously rubbing the seams of your pockets. You didn’t want to make joel do anything he didn’t want to do but something in you desperately wanted to hear him play. Since he’s said he wanted to be a musician you’d wanted to hear him play, be able to see and know that side of him. 

Music had always felt strangely intimate to you. It was the only way you really felt comfortable expressing your feelings and you’d never really understood how people could just get up and perform for hundreds or thousands. The closest you’d ever come was playing violin for the damn beauty pageants your mother made you do as a girl, until you figured out that if you said “fuck you” during the question and answer portion they wouldn’t allow you to come back. But you knew Joel listened to you playing. Sometimes he was more obvious about it. Other times, he quietly opened a window just a bit and didn’t say anything, like he thought you wouldn’t notice. You never bothered to correct him. 

You felt oddly OK with Joel listening to you play. It felt like he already knew so much of you, listening to your music wasn’t going to change any of it. You wanted to know him that way, too. Wanted to be closer to him that way since being physically near him made you nervous. 

“Alright,” he sighed. “Ain’t played for anyone in a while so don’t expect me to be some rockstar.” 

You scoffed. 

“Rockstars are boring assholes anyway,” you said. “Asked to hear you play.” 

He shook his head and quirked is jaw but sat on the top porch step anyway. You sat on the bottom one, back against the railing, and looked up at him. 

“Remember you asked for this,” he said, arranging the guitar on his legs. 

He’d downplayed it so much that you were almost expecting it to be bad or, at best, mediocre. But Joel was… good. Really good. 

It took you a moment to recognize the song. It had been a while since you’d heard Springsteen and Joel’s version of I’m On Fire was slower and gentler than the original. But you liked it that way, you realized. 

Joel’s version felt a little less insistent, less verging on being out of control and more like quiet longing, the ache of wanting something you couldn’t quite reach but you wanted it so bad you had to at least try. It made your chest tighten and your stomach knot to hear it, made you start to feel warm enough that you were fidgeting in the coat. There was a pull in you to want to be a part of anything to do with him, be alongside him, make something with him. You wanted to fall into him and get comfortably lost there, going along with everything that made Joel who he was, no matter where that took you.

You were silent until the last of the notes had faded and Joel sat there, looking down at the guitar in his hands, the uncertainty pouring off him in waves. 

“Well, that’s…” he began but you cut him off. 

“You’re amazing.” 

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours as he frowned slightly. 

“You are,” you said quickly. “I like your version better than Springsteen’s. No one tell the Boss that, though.” 

He smiled a little, just enough that you could see the dimple on his cheek and you smiled back. 

You were more comfortable being closer to the house after that day. You spent a few days playing on the bottom step, then moved to the top. Now, you always sat in the corner of the porch, your back protected by touching Joel’s home. You liked it there. 

The comfort had made it easier to relax while playing, too. Now, you were back where you were before the outbreak, playing whatever song you could hear in your head without much trouble, experimenting with the different ways you could pull sound out of the instrument and how you could weave it together into a melody. That’s what you’d been doing when Tommy came up - what you did most of the time that you were at Joel’s now - toying with things in a way that was melodic but not really a song, just whatever music you felt like making in the moment. 

“What brings you by?” Joel asked, opening the screen door. 

“Need to talk to the two of you, actually,” he said. “This saves me a stop. Want to come inside, Bambi?” 

Before you had a chance to reply, Joel spoke for you. 

“She doesn’t like bein’ inside,” he said, stepping outside and going to stand near you. You got up and perched on the porch railing near him, close enough that your knee brushed his side, still holding the guitar. “We can talk on the porch if it’s all the same to you.” 

“We’re workin’ Bambi into the patrol rotation,” he said. You nodded, frowning. This wasn’t a surprise. It had been more than a week since you’d finished your training. That didn’t warrant a visit from Tommy. “And we discussed it and we think it’s best if you two stick on patrol together instead of sending her out with someone new….” 

“I can handle myself,” you protested. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you. “I don’t need Joel to baby sit me, I can patrol with anyone…” 

“Never said you couldn’t,” Tommy said gently. “But we got another new person comin’ in and I’m gonna go out with him at first for a while. You two work well together, watch each other’s backs well. And… Well, Bambi, not to put too fine a point on it but… You’re not comfortable with most people. Seem comfortable enough with me n’Joel, no reason to make you uncomfortable in a situation that’s already dangerous enough.” 

You felt your face get hot as you looked at the ground, not able to face Tommy. You didn’t like that people made you uncomfortable and you tried to hide it. Apparently you didn’t do that good a job. 

“First patrol is in two days,” he said. “We’re gonna get Olivia to run the stables that day, it’ll just be a day long shift, no overnight. Sound good?” 

“I’m good with that,” Joel said. His eyes were still on you. 

“Works for me,” you said, looking up toward Tommy again. 

“Good,” he smiled a little and gave a single nod. “Then I’m gonna get home before my wife bites my head off.” 

He turned to go but turned around, a cocky smile on his face. 

“Hey Bambi?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you play Freebird?” 

You glared at him for a second, arranging the guitar on your lap again, planting a foot solidly against a spindle of the porch railing so you wouldn’t fall. 

“I’m just kid…” He began but you cut him off with the first notes of the solo from Freebird. 

You had to watch your fingers to play it and not think too hard about it, just let your hands and mind go. If you focused too hard, you’d fuck it up. But you played the whole damn thing, the whole four minutes and 24 seconds of it - a little faster because you always rushed it. You were a breathless when you were done and looked up at Tommy who was staring at you, open mouthed. 

“Don’t know why men always want to hear fuckin’ Freebird,” you rolled your eyes. “Allen Collins is great, don’t get me wrong, but I mean Joan Jett is right there. And no one ever asks for All Along the Watchtower which, Hendrix? I mean come on. Y’all are such simple fuckin’ creatures…” 

“Jesus, Bambi,” he said, almost reverently. “Where the hell’d you learn that?” 

“My bedroom when I was a teenager because I figured out men don’t take girls who play seriously unless we can play shit like that,” you replied. “Lemme know when your taste develops and you wanna hear some Heart.” 

“Well I’m gonna get outta here before I make an even bigger fool of myself,” Tommy smiled again, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Good luck patrolling with that one.” 

“I’ll do better than you,” Joel called after him and you laughed a little, shaking your head, before going back to toying with the guitar. You only played for a minute though. Joel didn’t go back inside. Instead he just leaned against a post, watching you silently. You stopped playing. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Do you not want to patrol with me?” He asked. It wasn’t accusing or even hurt. His face was soft and open, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. 

You frowned. 

“Why d’you think that?” 

“Seemed like you didn’t want to be paired with me,” he shrugged. “It’s OK if you don’t, we…” 

“I do,” you said quickly. “I want to patrol with you.” 

He frowned a little, like he was doubting you. 

“I do,” you said again. 

Because you did. You’d found yourself wanting to do things with Joel - everything, really - since you’d started patrolling with him the first time. He made you more relaxed than anyone else did, even Ellie. You started standing outside the mess hall and waiting for him to get there before going inside to eat. He’d started beating you there and waiting for you instead. You liked when you heard the soft thud of him opening a window when you played guitar and he tried to listen without disturbing you. You liked that, when he got back from patrol and it was the end of the day, Joel would help you get the horses settled and walk with you to his place to play guitar. 

You’d been spending so much time with Joel, people had started to notice. Or, at least, Ellie had. 

“What the fuck, Bambi?” She demanded the morning after your last patrol with Joel. You winced, her voice loud, your head pounding after drinking too much at the Tipsy Bison the night before. 

“Good morning, Ellie,” you said, hauling a bucket of feed to the next stall. “I’m doing fine, thank you for asking…” 

“Oh fuck off,” she stomped up next to you, her eyes narrowed. “Are you fucking Joel?” 

“What?” You almost dropped the bucket into the stall. 

“You heard me.” 

“Yeah, volume isn’t the issue here, kid,” you set the bucket down next to your feet before you took a deep breath and crossed your arms over your chest. “What do you mean am I fucking Joel?” 

“I mean,” she snapped. “Everyone saw you fucking dancing with the guy last night. I know you’re over at his house all the time - I live out back in case you fucking forgot. Are you fucking him?” 

“Who is and isn’t between my legs is none of your damn business…” 

“It is if it’s Joel,” she cut you off. “I said he could use a friend, not…” 

“I’m not fucking anybody,” you said. “But if I were it wouldn’t be your business, regardless of who it was.” 

“Joel’s different.” 

“And you still won’t tell me what your issue with him is,” you said, picking up the bucket again. “Doesn’t seem fair that I should need to ask your permission to fuck the man if you won’t even tell me why I shouldn’t.” 

“So you do want to,” she said. 

“Ellie,” you sighed. “Want to tell me what your actual problem is? Because something tells me it doesn’t have shit to do with whether or not I’m sleeping with anyone.” 

She clenched her teeth for a moment and glared at you even harder before she sighed. 

“You were my friend first,” she said. “And if you start doing… that,” she gestured to your torso and you tried not to laugh. “You’re going to be his… whatever the fuck you’d be. Be friends with him, fine, whatever, but I really don’t want you to ditch me because I’m not speaking to him and you’re fucking him.” 

“Ellie,” you smiled a little. “First of all, I’m not anybody’s anything. That’s wouldn’t change even if I were fucking someone. Second of all, you really don’t need to worry about me fucking Joel or anybody else. Not only is it not your business but it’s not… I’m not… It just isn’t gonna happen, OK? So don’t get worked up over shit that isn’t happening and isn’t your concern.”

She relaxed a little but looked like she didn’t entirely believe you. 

“Need me to bring a horse out to the paddock for you to work on drawing?” You asked, brows raised.

“Maybe.” 

She didn’t look too happy about that fact. You smiled a little. 

“C’mon kid,” you said, going to get Shimmer. “We’ll get you all set up.” 

You were glad she hadn’t pushed you too hard about Joel or any of the rest of it. You didn’t want to tell her why fucking anyone felt totally out of the question. Or how you wished that weren’t the case because at least that would explain part of the strange draw you had to Joel, this growing longing to be close to him, one that was outweighing your fears. 

“Bambi,” Joel said gently. “It’s OK…” 

“Will you stop acting like you’re some leper I don’t want to see?” You looked at him, incredulous. “I just… I don’t want the fact that I’m… antisocial to make problems for people, alright? I want to patrol with you. You’re about the only fucking person I’d want to patrol with. But I can do it with other people. It’s my shit to deal with, not Tommy’s, not yours, not the people who figure out patrol rotations, mine. I’m tired of being a fucking burden all the goddamn time…” 

“You’re not a burden,” he said. You raised your eyebrows at him. “You’re not. Everyone’s got their shit now. It’s the end of the world, that’s how it goes. We work around it. You’re not a burden.” 

You nodded slowly, running your fingers over the fretboard of the guitar. 

“If you don’t want to patrol with me, I’d understand,” you said, forcing yourself to look at him. “You can…” 

“I want to patrol with you, Bambi,” he cut you off. “Meant what I said before. I like bein’ the one to look out for you.”

“OK,” you said, giving him a single, definitive nod. 

He smiled a little. 

“OK.” 

Joel walked you home that night after you went to the mess hall for dinner but asked to stop by his place first to grab something. He came out with something wrapped in paper tucked below his arm but didn’t say anything about it until you were at your front porch. Joel always came to your front door now, always waiting for you to get safely inside and turn off the light before going to his own house again. 

“This…” He held out the package, awkwardly cupping the back of his neck, not looking at you. “Thought you might like this.” 

You frowned and took it, untying the string around the paper. Inside was a long sleeved shirt, light weight and far too big for you. You looked at him for a second, confused. 

“Well, you said the thing you liked about the coat was the smell,” it was like he was trying to look at anything but you, too uncomfortable to meet your eyes. “And… well, it was my coat and I think that means it smelled like me which, you know… That makes sense, seein’ as I was the one who brought you here, you were passed out on me for a few hours and smell is supposedly tied to memory… anyway… It’s too hot for the coat now, you’re gonna get yourself hurt tryin’ to do everything you need to do in that heavy thing and that shirt is a lot cooler and I wore it for a while.” You looked down at it, running your thumbs over the fabric for a moment before bringing it to your nose and breathing deep. It smelled warm and safe. It smelled like Joel. You smiled a little. “Only wore it when I was clean and shit, wasn’t out doin’ anything crazy…” 

You looked up at him for a second before you slowly, cautiously pressed yourself against him. Joel froze for a second and you just stood there, your face in his chest, your arms clutched to your torso, the shirt still in your hands. You closed your eyes and breathed him in for moment, calming and centering yourself on him. He gently put his arms around you, holding you to him. You could hear his heartbeat, feel his breathing, absorb his warmth. He rested his chin on the top of your head. 

“Thank you,” you said softly. 

“Course,” he said quietly. “Wasn’t… Wasn’t weird?” 

“No,” you laughed a little into his chest. “At least, not to me.” 

When you went inside that night, you raced around to your back windows and watched what you could see of the street behind your house, the shirt held to your chest, following his darkened silhouette with your eyes as he walked home. 

You found yourself looking forward to patrolling with Joel. It would be nice to see him without other realities of life in the way. Just infected and the looming threat of raiders. That was easier to navigate than a pissed off teenager. But you were nervous, too. Less about the patrol itself - you’d done almost the exact same patrol with Joel and Tommy for weeks and almost nothing happened - and more about being alone with Joel for that long. 

It wasn’t safety you were worried about anymore - even though the knot in your stomach wasn’t about to let you into Joel’s house anytime too soon - but more the kind of company you were now. You hadn’t been alone like this with someone in so long. What if the person who made you feel the closest you came to OK didn’t want to spend time with you anymore after going out there with you? You wouldn’t blame him, you were barely functional in society as it was. But you didn’t want to lose him, either. 

You hardly slept the night before you left for your first patrol alone with Joel and when you did sleep, you dreamed. 

You were in a snow covered forest, the trees stretching out for miles in neat little rows, the ground white. You didn’t leave footprints and neither did the little girl beside you even though you could hear the crunch of snow under both your feet. There were shadows in the distance, shadows shaped like men but they were too far away to recognize. But you could feel that they were a threat, that they wanted to close in, that they wanted to rip and tear and take.

“I don’t want to do this.” 

The little girl looked up at you with wide, doe-like eyes, her hair clipped back from her face, a gun that was far too big for her in her small hands. 

“I know,” you said quietly. “But we have to.” 

“Why?” 

“Because,” you nodded to the shadows on the horizon. “There are things in this world that want to hurt you and you need to know how to hurt them first.” 

“But you’re here,” she said. She was so young, so small. You brushed her hair back. 

“You still need to know how,” you said. “I will do everything I can to protect you but I might fail. You need to know how to destroy them before they destroy you because they will. They will destroy every part of you they can touch if they have the chance. Don’t give them the chance.” 

Her small mouth formed a grim line but she lined up the shot anyway. 

“Does it hurt?” She asked, looking up at you. 

You reached down at cupped her cheek.

“Yes,” you said quietly. “Yes, it does.” 

You didn’t remember the dream when you woke up. You only felt the hollow ache of loss as you got ready to meet Joel at the stables. 

*** 

You were wearing the shirt. 

It was the first thing Joel noticed when he saw you at the stables, your forehead pressed to Renaissance’s own, your eyes closed. 

He cleared his throat and you jumped a bit, away from the horse, your body tense for a moment before you saw it was just him and you smiled a little. 

“Hey,” you said. 

“Hey.” 

You were wearing the shirt. His shirt. He hadn’t been wrong, he was the thing you liked about the coat. 

His heart beat a little faster.

Joel felt like he was in some kind of delicate dance with you. He had since the night at the Tipsy Bison, when you’d touched him without flinching away. Instead, you’d melted into him, all soft warmth and gentle breaths as you moved together. It was a wonder you didn’t ask him what the fuck his problem was, the way his heart was racing in his chest as your head rested against him as the two of you swayed on the dance floor. He’d been touching you, holding you, feeling you. 

It was somehow more than he’d expected it to be. 

Joel wasn’t stupid. He had feelings for you, there was no point in denying it. If he was at all honest with himself, even for a second, he’d had feelings for you from the day he met you. Even half dead, there was something in you that he was reaching for. It had just grown in the months he’d known you, watched you with the horses and with Ellie and even his nephew, William. Grown as he’d listened to you relearn the guitar, playing until he had to clean blood off the instrument before putting it away at night. Grown as he watched you grit your teeth and face deeply held fears, trying so hard to fold yourself back into humanity you were willing to tear yourself apart to do it. It had grown so much that, when you moved closer to him in the dim light, he was overwhelmed by it. Like everything else fell away and it was just you and him and the slow, haunting music. 

If you’d been any other woman, he would have taken your face in his hand and tilted your lips toward his own and kissed you that night and fuck, did he want to kiss you. He wanted to feel the soft give of your mouth against his, wanted to taste you, wanted to breathe the same air as you. 

But he couldn’t do that with you. You were so delicate in this way. He could trust you to claw a man’s face off but couldn’t trust what you might do if he were to touch you the way he so desperately wanted to. And nothing - not even feeling you the way he longed to - was worth the risk of hurting you. 

He went home that night and made himself come so hard in the shower he almost collapsed with it, thinking about nothing but the way your body felt cradled against his own as you moved with him on the dance floor. 

That night had tipped something in him over the edge. He had to fight to stay away from you, make a conscious effort to not seek you out at every opportunity. All he wanted was to be beside you and, when he wasn’t, he wanted to know that you were OK, wanted to know what you were doing, wanted to know what you feeling. He wanted to take care of you in whatever way he could and the shirt was something he could do for you. 

Joel just felt like a bit of a jackass doing it, though. 

“Fuckin’ idiot,” he’d muttered to himself as he put the shirt on after he was freshly showered and getting into bed one night. Because he felt like a fucking idiot, assuming that the smell you mentioned had fuck all to do with him. How self absorbed could he possibly be? 

But he wore the shirt, anyway. If he was right - if the smell you felt safe with was him - then he should help you. It was worth the risk of looking like a goddamn moron if there was even a chance that it could make your life a little easier. He slept in the shirt for a few nights before he wrapped it in paper. It glared at him from the top of his dresser for two days before he was sitting at the mess hall with you and you made some smart ass remark and he caught a glimpse of you, laughing, relaxed and happy. If he could do anything to make the world feel safer, make that version of you closer to the surface, he would. 

And you were wearing the shirt. 

“Ready to endure a day of patrol with just me?” You asked, smiling a little. 

“Better than a day with just Tommy,” he smiled back, going to saddle up his horse. 

The patrols all left at the same time and Joel took the lead with yours, following a trail that he’d come to know well through the years. It was the same patrol he’d been on with Tommy when he’d found you months before. 

He wasn’t going to mention that part. 

“Where’d you find your guitar?” You asked after the two of you had been riding for a while. 

“There’s a city, few hours ride away,” he said. “Found it there. Why?” 

“No reason,” you shrugged. “Just… wondered if I might be able to find one of my own. Figured you were probably tired of me comin’ around all the time.” 

“Not tired of it,” he smiled a little. “Come by as often as you want. I… I like it when you come by.” 

“Also thought it would be nice to play with you sometime,” you said, not looking at him, your voice strained. “Not sayin’ we should start a fuckin’ band or anything but… You’re good. I’d like to play with you.” 

He smiled wider. 

“I’d like that, too,” he said. 

The two of you were getting close to where Joel had first found you when you frowned, your eyes narrowed at a spot on the trail. Joel’s chest got tight. Did you remember more than either of you realized? Did you recognize something? 

“See that?” You asked, nodding at a branch low on the tree. 

Joel frowned. 

“No.” 

You rolled your eyes and guided your horse to it. You pointed out a splotch of mud on the branch as well as some on the side of the trunk at about knee height. 

“Someone climbed this tree,” you said, touching the mud spot on the branch. “It’s dry, been a few days at least but someone climbed this tree. There are people out here.” 

“Alright,” Joel nodded slowly. “Lead the way, let’s see what we can find.” 

You found a few other signs of people - all at least a few days old - as the two of you worked your way further off the usual path. There were some cabins marked on the map close by and Joel wasn’t particularly surprised when the trail led to them. 

You dismounted before he had a chance to say anything, your sidearm held low in your hands as you went up to the first door. Joel jumped off his horse before it fully stopped moving, barely reaching you before you threw the first door open. 

The one room cabin was empty, just some old sheets and towels on the floor, the air damp with mildew. 

“Bambi,” Joel said, voice low. “We should…” 

“Just gonna check,” you replied, looking through the room quickly, yanking up blankets to check below them for something. You made a frustrated sound. 

“What are we lookin’ for?” He asked, looking at the hearth in the corner of the cabin. The ash in it was cold, at least a few days old. 

“Any sign of there being women or girls here,” you said, lifting the mattress on the floor with your toe. “And any sign of where they might have gone.” 

Joel didn’t say anything. He just let you take the lead, knowing you were going to be disappointed. This was a raider camp. It wasn’t like they were going to have left a roadmap to where they were headed next, it wasn’t like there was going to be shit like hair brushes lying around to prove there were women with them. 

You went to the next cabin and found more of the same. The largest cabin had more beds but the same disarray. Finally, there was one cabin that you seemed to latch on to. 

At first it seemed like the others but you spotted something against the wall quickly. You went to it, kneeling slowly before you picked it up. It was a chain, bolted to the wall. Joel’s stomach turned as you ran your fingers over it to the cuff on the end. You pulled out your flashlight and shined it on the metal, delicately tracing the inside of it before you pulled your hand away. 

“It’s dried but there’s blood,” you said, straightening up and shining the light at the ground before you found a stain on the floorboards. You knelt again, running your fingers through the dirt and blood there, examining it. You sighed and hung your head. “Doesn’t matter, looks like they killed her anyway.” 

You turned off the flashlight and stuck it back in your bag before brushing past Joel and stalking outside. He followed. You’d stopped next to the fire pit, staring down into the pile of ash, the thumb of your right hand absently tracing the inside of your left wrist. 

“Bambi,” he said gently, but you cut him off. 

“How often do patrols come out this way?” You asked. “And do they ever make it this far?” 

“They come out on the route we’re on every other week,” he said. “But don’t make it all the way out here except every few months, just to check in.” 

You nodded slowly. 

“They were probably watching for people like us then,” you said. “If they knew the pattern, they took off days ago.” 

“I don’t think we can follow them, Sweetheart,” he said gently. 

You nodded. 

“I know,” you said softly. “Don’t think there’s a reason to right now, anyway.” 

“Bambi…” 

“Let’s go,” you said, not looking at him as you stalked over to Renaissance. 

“If you want…” 

“I just want to get the fuck away from here,” you snapped. “So can we please move on?” 

Your eyes met his for the first time since you’d found the cabins and the barbed wire was back but it was wrapped around so much pain it hurt to look at you. 

“Course,” he said. “Let’s get back.” 

The first few hours of the trip back were quiet until you slowed on the trail and waited for Joel to come alongside you. 

“Can you do me a favor and not say anything about that?” You asked. “At least, leave me out of it as much as you can? Folks here should protect themselves of course but…” 

“Not going to say anything,” he said, watching you. The barbed wire was gone now. Instead, it was just hurt, an aching, screaming pain behind your eyes. He wondered, for a moment, if that’s what he looked like in the time after he’d lost Sarah. If that’s what Tommy had looked at for weeks if not months. 

You nodded. 

“Thank you.” 

About an hour out from Jackson, Joel started humming. You glanced over at him when he did but he pretended not to notice. It was The Chain, the first song he’d ever heard you sing. He was trying to remember the pacing you used, trying to match it. When he finished it, he just started it up again.

“Listen to the wind blow…” Your voice was quiet, almost hesitant, but you sang it all the same. Joel kept humming. 

By the time the two of you were back to Jackson, you seemed a bit more like yourself. You leaned forward on Renaissance and scratched her neck, draping yourself over her mane. 

“Thanks for that,” you said, opening your eyes and looking at Joel, your cheek still pressed against the horse’s neck. “I needed it.” 

“Course,” he said. 

Joel was exhausted, the diversion to the cabins adding a few hours to an already long day, and he was ready to write a brief report about what the two of you saw on patrol and get a hot meal when the gates opened as they rode up to town. But Ellie came running out to meet you, her eyes wide and afraid. 

“Thank fuck you’re OK!” She looked back and forth between the two of you. Joel looked at you and you gave him a small shrug before you both dismounted. 

She threw herself at Joel first, her small body hitting him with so much force that it shocked him. He hesitantly put his arms around her and held her close, her arms tight around his neck. 

“I was so fucking scared,” she said, her voice wet. 

“What happened Baby Girl?” He frowned. Patrols ran a bit long all the time, it wouldn’t cause her to freak out, not like this. Not when she’d so much as glanced his way in months.

“Other patrols got attacked,” she pulled away from him before going to you, giving you a big but shorter hug. You gave her a squeeze back. 

“By what?” Joel asked. “Is everyone OK?” 

“Raiders,” she said, stepping back and looking between the two of you, a frantic look in her eyes. “The people all made it back alive. Looks like Jody might lose her arm but she got the worst of it…” 

“Fuck,” Joel swore, shaking his head. 

“Ellie,” you said. “Do me a favor, grab Joel’s horse and come with me back to the stables so Joel can go handle that?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, squaring her jaw. “Yeah, I can do that.” 

You gave Joel a single nod and he watched the two of you head for the stables for a moment before he went to find Tommy. 

There wasn’t much he could do, however. The council was already meeting and Tommy filled him in on the worst of it as he nursed a knife wound on his leg. 

Half the patrols that had gone out that day had been overrun, one large group of raiders catching them at a crossover point on their routes. The raiders had either been extremely lucky or they’d been watching their patrols and knew where they’d be when. 

They’d managed to kill a few raiders and no humans from Jackson had died before fighting off the others. But a total of five horses had been lost in the attack, including Samson. 

“Shit,” Joel said, looking toward the stables, where he knew you would be. 

“I’ll let you know what else happens,” Tommy said gently, jerking his head toward the door. “Get outta here.” 

Joel looked at him for a moment before pulling him into a tight hug, clapping him on the back as he did. 

“Glad you’re OK,” Joel said, his voice thick. 

“You too, man,” Tommy said. “Go take care of your girl.” 

“She’s not…” 

“I said what I said,” Tommy cut him off. “Get your head outta your ass, man.” 

Joel just shook his head and took off for the stables, looking for you. 

He found you there, curled up on the floor, your arms wrapped tight around yourself, your knees against your chest. You were sobbing, your whole body shaking with it. The sight made Joel’s heart ache.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Joel said quietly, approaching you slowly,. 

“G-g-go away,” you managed. “Don’t w-w-w-want your pity.” 

He ignored you, getting down on the floor next to you. 

“It OK if I touch you?” He asked softly. You nodded through a wracking sob. He lay down behind you and put an arm around you. He delicately, slowly, pulled you back against him, putting his other arm below your head so you weren’t just lying on the cold concrete. You pressed yourself back into him and he buried is face in your hair. “I’m so sorry…” 

“N-n-never lost this many at once,” you choked out. “And S-s-s-s-samson wouldn’t have been out at all if it wasn’t for me, it was my fault…” 

“Wasn’t your fault,” he kept his voice calm and even. “If it wasn’t him, it would have been another horse. Not your fault, Sweetheart. Promise you, it’s not.” 

“It’s probably dumb for m-me to be so upset about the horses,” you sounded like you could at least breathe now. “When there were p-p-people who…” 

“Not dumb,” Joel said gently. “The people will live and you worked with these horses every day. Course you’re upset, Sweetheart.” 

“What are we gonna do?” You asked, taking a shaky breath. “Jackson, without the horses, we need them to patrol, what…” 

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow,” he said quietly. “Right now, you just breathe. You had a long, awful day. You need to breathe.” 

Joel brought the hand that was below you to your forehead, brushing your hair back. Your head dropped back against him, your whole body pressed to his. He just held you like that, feeling your breathing calm and your sobs slow.

“Can I stay here?” You asked quietly. “Don’t wanna go home, just wanna be here…” 

“Course you can,” he said gently, his hand finding a gentle rhythm on your hair. “Want me to stay with you?” 

“Would you?” You asked, voice shaky again. “Because I… I just… Just want you to hold me…” 

“Course I’ll stay,” he said quietly, his hold on you tightening. “I’ll do whatever you want, Sweetheart. Whatever you want.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: GUYS

THEY LIKE... FULLY HUGGED AND CUDDLED IN THIS ONE.

This is probably the slowest burn slow burn I've done and I can tell because I get SO EXCITED when they like... barely touch lmfao. I hope you're enjoying it, too.

I'm still doing the tag list thing and I promise I will start up an updates blog soon. I just have not had the time this week! If you want to be added to the tag list and see what the Tumblr Gods will allow, comment below.

Thank you so much for being here and for spending your time with these characters! I so appreciate it, it makes sharing this story so worthwhile. Love you all so much!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.

[p-artsypants]

The Pale Rider (6) When Jealousy Becomes Too Much

The Isle of Berk is cursed. Like, extremely cursed. It has been for generations. The extent of the curse has been forgotten over time, but no descendants of the original village are able to leave the island, lest they suffer a gruesome fate. Three years ago, the Blacksmith invited the Pale Rider to town. He’s a creature that’s haunted the forest and childhood campfire stories for centuries. Now, he arrives every day at noon. One day, Astrid Hofferson decides to be brave and talk to him. He’s actually really nice…for an eldritch abomination. A Beauty and the Beast AU.

Ao3

Not everyone in town liked the Pale Rider. In fact, most of the town didn’t care for his daily presence. 

But they were growing used to it. 

He had a routine now. He had several stops he made, like clockwork. He didn’t stay too long at each one.

Except for the Hofferson residence. 

It had angered a lot of folks, how Astrid could allow this monster around her poor sick mother. 

But then Astrid would give them a glare and retort, “you could always go sit up with her, you know. Then the Pale Rider wouldn’t feel compelled to keep her company.”

That always shut them up. 

It had been about a month since that brave day when Astrid had decided to speak with him in the forge. She only felt more and more certain of his trustworthiness in that time. She had grown rather fond of him as well. 

After their days were done, she’d compare notes with the others, hoping to learn anything she could about his curse. 

On occasion, he’d slip something. It was difficult to tell if he was guarded on purpose, or if he just didn’t want to talk about his tragic circumstances. Most of the information he leaked was about previous generations in the village. An encounter with someone in the woods, a few brave occasions he had wandered through town at night. It was interesting to see where certain rumors seemed to originate from. 

It was a gloomy day. One marked by gray skies, and the faintest drizzle of rain. Astrid’s stall had a little awning to keep her mostly dry, but sales were miserable, and she was excited to call it a day. 

But not until the Rider was gone. 

He came up the road, Toothless trotting with thinly veiled enthusiasm. From here, she could see the Rider’s shiny new leg. A wooden piece with a metal base in a ‘S’ shape. Gobber said it was ideal for riding horses. 

“Afternoon!” He greeted, gleefully. 

“My, you’re in a good mood, aren’t you?” 

“How can I not be? I’m on my way to see my best friend, and all my other friends.” 

Astrid beamed at him, elated at his declaration. 

“I almost left early, I was so excited.” He dismounted in front of her. Toothless immediately got to work on the bucket of poisonous plants she kept just for him. ‘The Toothless Special’ she called it. 

“You could have. It’s been a slow morning.” 

“Everyone expects me at noon. It’s my common courtesy.” 

One thing Astrid noticed taking place was his improved speech pattern. The more time he spent in the village and talking to people, the more normal he spoke. His voice wasn’t even as deep and gravelly anymore. Still deeper than most people, but not bone chilling. He also became more animated, using his hands to gesture. That was a real blessing, as his expression was impossible to see under his mask, so she had to rely on his hand gestures and tone of his voice to figure out what he was thinking. 

He still had his moments, however. A hairpin trigger that would render him silent, stilted, and tense. He’d revert to short answers, or none at all. Snotlout was usually the responsible party, as he had a tendency to point out something ‘weird’ about the Rider that would remind everyone that he wasn’t normal. 

Like anyone could forget. 

After a few words of assurance and a punch to Snotlout, the Rider would eventually come around. 

Overall, she was pleased with the progress he had made in such a short amount of time. 

“Ready for your transformation?” She wiggled her fingers. 

“As ever,” he conceded, bowing his head. 

This was a new tactic they were taking. In an effort to make him less threatening, Astrid had taken to adorning his horns with wildflowers. It hadn’t made anyone else in the town approach him, but she had seen some amusement on people’s faces as he passed by. 

“There!” She declared proudly, gesturing to his head of coneflowers, blanket flowers, and oxeye daisies. “Aww, you look precious!” 

“I feel like a bee buffet.” He reached up and played with the petals. “A small price to pay, I suppose.” 

“You look lovely. Now, everyone’s meeting at Heather’s for afternoon tea. Even Gobber! Ready to go?” 

He nodded and grabbed the bucket Toothless was still mowing through. 

At Heather’s, almost everyone else was already waiting, sipping on tea and relaxing. As they entered, the group cheered, “Astrid! Rider!” 

“Nice pansies,” said Snotlout. 

“You’re just jealous because I can pull it off and you can’t.” 

“Yeah, I’m really jealous of the guy who’s so hideous he has to wear a mask,” Snotlout scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

Astrid feared that would shut him down, but the Rider persevered and stated, “Actually, I’m so handsome under this mask that my face would bring you all to tears.” 

“Really?” said Ruffnut. 

“No, though…I would probably still bring you to tears…” he trailed off. 

“Alright ladies, you’re both very pretty,” interrupted Tuffnut. “But Deer Boy, you gotta settle a debate for us.” 

“D-Deer Boy?”

“Duh. The deer skull? Antlers? Come on!” Tuff flourished his hand. “Okay, so the question is: what was Toothless before he became a horror horse?” 

Astrid scoffed. “What kind of question is that? A regular horse, obviously.” 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Said Ruff. 

To the bewilderment of everyone, the Rider shook his head. “No, he’s not a horse.” 

“What?!” Shouted Fishlegs, Snotlout, Astrid, and Ruffnut. 

“Yeah!” Said Tuff. “He’s clearly a donkey! I knew it!” 

“No,” the Rider said again. “He’s a dragon.” 

The group went quiet as they digested this information. 

“But…dragons don’t live down this far,” said Fishlegs. “They’re all up in the far northern archipelago. How do you have one down here?” 

“That, I don’t have an answer for,” the Rider sipped his tea. “I’m sorry.” 

“So, a dragon with retractable teeth,” Astrid clarified. “That makes more sense…but why does he look like a horse?” 

The Rider shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

“Well then, what do you know!?” Snotlout damn near shouted. “How are we supposed to help you break this stupid curse if you don’t remember anything about it?!”

Apparently, that was the hair trigger, although Astrid was the only one to notice at first. The Rider bowed his head and slowly pulled his hands away from his cup and into his lap. “You all are…trying to break my curse?” 

“Duh!” Said Snotlout, again. “You’re not the only one affected by it!” 

There was a short stutter of breath from behind his mask. Then he answered, “of course. You all want to leave the island…I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.” 

Astrid punched Snotlout in the gut, making him keel over. “Rider,” she began, sternly. “Yes, we’ve all wanted to break this curse for generations, but know that seeing you motivates us to do so. It’s not a bad thing. You’ve given us hope of change. Let’s work together, okay?” 

He was silent for a long time, twisting his hands nervously in his lap. 

Astrid frowned. “You will work with us, right? You’d tell us if you knew anything that could help, right?” 

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing slowly through his unnaturally long neck. “Yes, but I don’t know anything. I’m sorry.” 

Astrid was overcome by the fact she’d never seen the Rider lie before. But at that moment, it was obvious that he had. 

Either no one else noticed, or they were too uncomfortable to call him out. 

“Who wants quiche?!” Gobber hollered, entering the cafe and startling the tense group. Gobber always had a talent for resolving tension, even if it was unorthodox. While everyone was distracted by quiche, the Rider was able to pivot attention away from him. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet today, Heather,” he noted. “Is everything alright?” 

“What?” She perked up. “Oh! Um, yes, mostly…just have a lot on my mind.” 

“Is it me?” Snotlout crooned, fluttering his eyelashes at her. 

Well that didn’t take long, thought Astrid. 

Heather laughed awkwardly. “Uh no…it’s…well, hopefully it’s not a big deal. You see, my father is sick.” 

Astrid gasped. 

Heather raised her hands in a calming way. “Nothing too serious! Just…Gothi said it’s something in his lungs. He’s very weak and has a fever, but he should recover in a month or so.” 

Astrid rested a hand on her chest. “That’s a relief.” 

“Yes, well…while I am worried about my father, there is something more pressing. As he started having his crisis of mortality, he decided to give my brother some more control over…assets.” 

“What kind of assets?” Astrid asked, dreading the answer. 

“Properties…the kind that other people live in and are paying off.” 

The collective group winced. 

“And that’s why he hasn’t been bugging me lately,” Astrid muttered. “Great.” 

“I’m really hoping it's no big deal, but…it’s Dagur.” 

“I’m afraid I’m lost,” said the Rider. “Dagur owns other people’s homes?” 

“That’s right,” Astrid explained, “Oswald the Agreeable is easily the richest man in town. If you want to buy a house, you borrow money from him, then you pay him back. It seems like he’s given the responsibility to Dagur to collect on those debts.” 

“I see,” the Rider mused. 

“Thanks to all your patronage these last few years, I fully own the forge and everything in it! I don’t owe a dime to those muttonheads!” Gobber cheered. 

“My uncle just paid off the store too,” said Fishlegs. 

“Our shop has been in the family for forever,” said Tuffnut. “Pretty sure our parents own our house too.”

The group then turned to look at Astrid. 

“Well, I was leasing my cart from Oswald…and we owed on our house, but he waved the debt after dad died. So I think I’m okay too.” 

Heather sighed a breath of relief. “Then we’ll worry about the rest of the town.” 

“I can help,” offered the Rider. “I can pay.” 

Astrid patted his shoulder, having long gotten used to the damp texture of his cloak. “Don’t worry about it. That’s not your responsibility.” 

“But–” 

“We vikings are very proud. They probably wouldn’t accept charity from even their best friend.” 

“The best thing you can do, lad, is keep on coming to town. We’ll take you to the fishery next! Or maybe the mill?”

“What about the Great Hall?” Asked Astrid. “After sunset tonight, come with us and have a drink!” 

The Rider twisted the hem of his cloak in his hands. “I don’t know…” 

“That’s not a bad idea, Astrid,” said Gobber. “About time people started seein’ him around in more places than just the streets.” 

“Can you?” Astrid urged him, “can you come out at night? The twins finished my dress, you know. This would be a special occasion I could wear it to.” 

After a tense moment, he sighed. “I cannot say no to you, Astrid. I will come.” 

“Yes!” Everyone cheered. 

—-

After spending the later part of Astrid’s shift with Mrs. Hofferson, the Rider departed from the village as usual, with a promise of returning after dark. 

Astrid found herself unbelievably excited. He was coming to the Great Hall! He was so brave! And Gobber would be there to make sure everything went smoothly. 

It would be great! 

She came home and checked on her mother, who had been doing better since the Rider came to sit with her. Positive company apparently did a lot of good. She dressed in her special dress, twirling as she spied herself in the mirror. 

It was a shame the Rider couldn’t feel love. It would be so fun to flirt with him in this. 

Then again, he was over 300 years old. Maybe he looked like an old man under that mask? 

She shuddered. She dare not think like that. 

Taking a coat, she kissed her mother goodbye and practically skipped down to the Hall. 

He wasn’t there, not yet. But the sun had only just set, and he had time. He was probably nervous anyways, and who could blame him? 

Her friends sat at their usual table, and all smiled and waved as she approached. 

“It fits perfectly!” Tuff cheered. 

“Did you think it wouldn’t?” 

“You know, I often have my doubts.” 

“I don’t,” said Ruffnut. “I knew my half of the dress was going to fit like a dream. You get what you pay for.” 

“And considering you charged the man a house, it better fit!” Snotlout snipped, still sore about it. 

“Alright everyone! The party has arrived!” Dagur’s far too enthusiastic voice called from the entrance.

Astrid’s mood faltered. She should have factored in Dagur’s appearance, but it had honestly slipped her mind. 

The Rider had allowed her to forget about him for a while. 

“Astrid…darling, that is a very fine dress. Where on earth did you get it?” He called, spotting her from across the room. 

She frowned, hard. “It was a gift, if you must know.” 

“From whom? Who in this village would dare give you such a gift? Who could afford such a thing?” 

She didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. For the man in question stepped through the wide doors at that moment. He stood on the threshold, the breeze outside playing with the torn tendrils of his cloak. 

The room fell into a hush as everyone watched. 

“Rider!” Astrid called, delighted. She practically skipped to him and took his hands. “I’m so glad you could make it!” 

“I promised I would,” he said, keeping his gaze on her. 

“Hey buddy!” Snotlout called, “go home to change into your finest evening rags?” 

“Very funny,” the Rider replied, but not angrily. 

“So this is the Great Hall,” said Fishlegs, coming up to join them. “Many a battle was strategized here. Also many a feast! We’re under 18, so our drink selection is small, but you're welcome to order whatever you want at the bar.” 

The bartender waved pleasantly, already having been briefed that the Rider would come. 

“Don’t get the Bloody Mary!” Tuff shouted from the table. “Despite the name, it doesn’t actually have any blood in it! It’s tomato juice!” 

“Though, don’t the farmers use blood for fertilizer?” Asked Ruff. 

“Good point. How much blood goes back into the tomatoes?” Then he shouted back. “There might be a miniscule amount of blood in the bloody mary!”

The Rider laughed. Laughed! “Thanks for the advice!” 

The sound of his laughter seemed to put everyone at ease, even just a little bit. The Rider had a sense of humor. 

As he and Astrid started over to the bar, Dagur made his move. 

“Excuse me, Rider?” He said, politely, and almost meekly. 

The Rider stopped and looked at him, not speaking, but allowed him to go on. 

“I’m Dagur. We met a few weeks ago, though it was brief.” 

“I recall.” 

“And you see, we got off to such a rocky start. You’ve really ingratiated yourself with the young folks of this town. Such a steep hill to climb! Now, I’m sorry for the way I acted back then. But that can all be water under the bridge, right? What do you say? Wanna be my friend?” He held out his hand. 

Astrid held her breath. In her head, she screamed no no no. She didn’t want the Rider to have anything to do with Dagur, but she knew he was desperate for friends, and for acceptance. 

The Rider looked at his hand, but did not raise his own. Instead, he slowly raised his gaze to meet Dagur’s and said, “No. I don’t want to be your friend.” 

The fuzzy feelings that were developing in the room turned to ice. 

People turned their heads to avoid eye contact. Shoulders tensed and throats cleared. 

“Excuse me?” Dagur said, his meaty smile curling farther. “Did you just say…no?” 

“That’s correct.” 

“Why Rider…” he stepped closer. “What a completely ridiculous thing to say! You know, everyone in this town wants to be my friend!” He shouted out to the room at large. “Isn’t that right!?” 

There were some muffled agreements. 

“Barkeep! A round for everyone, on me! Everyone…except the Rider.” 

The room came much more alive then, the drunks cheering for more booze. 

“See? Everyone likes me. Everyone loves me! But you?” He poked the Rider in the chest. “They hate you. They’re afraid of you. And even these so-called friends of yours? They tolerate you. Too afraid of what will happen if they push you away.” 

“Shut up!” Yelled Astrid. 

But he didn’t. “They don’t even have a better name for you. Just ‘Rider’. Because that’s what you do. You ride in, and you ride on out.” He mockingly danced his fingers through the air like someone running away. “You don’t stay here. Because you aren’t one of us. You will never be one of us. Because you’re a monster, and a murderer.” 

“Stop it!” Astrid screamed. 

“You could have been one of us though,” Dagur shrugged. “If you had accepted my friendship. But the offer is rescinded.” 

The Rider said absolutely nothing. Just stood there, expression unreadable behind the skull. 

“Don’t listen to him, Rider! He’s just jealous!” 

“Quiet!” Dagur snarled, spittle flying from his mouth. It made her flinch. “So what are you going to do, Rider? Going to tell me I’m wrong? Because you and I both know I’m not.”

The Rider tilted his head slightly, and the green flames of his eyes dimmed. After a beat, he turned and walked to the bar. 

“Ignoring me!?” 

The Rider held his hand out over the wooden surface and a rain of gold and jewels fell upon it. Some fell to the floor. He looked up at the bartender and explained. “I’d like to pay for everyone's drinks for the rest of the night…except Dagur’s.” 

“Ha! Eat shit!” Snotlout shouted from the corner. 

Dagur whipped his head around to glare at him. “I’ll have your job, Snothat!” 

Snotlout ducked his head, sheepishly.

The Rider then went back to Astrid’s side. 

Astrid grasped his arms. “It’s not true! He’s just trying to get under your skin! I care about you, I truly do!” 

He gripped her arms back with his ice cold hands and dipped his head to speak to her. 

“I appreciate everything you’ve done, but they just aren’t ready.” 

“But–”

“I knew that dress would suit you. You look breathtaking.” She heard the sound of a kiss, him sending the sentiment into the air when he couldn’t quite reach her. “Goodnight Astrid.” 

Somehow she felt even colder when he pulled away. “Goodnight…” 

He went to the door. Rushing out with an inhuman speed. His cloak almost grew in the wind as he opened the door. Then he was gone in a blink, and only the echoing roar of Toothless signified that he was even near. 

—

Astrid didn’t stay long after. She simply couldn’t. She felt awful, and even though Dagur was the only one hostile, she still felt responsible. 

“You aren’t going to change everyone’s mind on him,” said Phlegma, after Astrid relayed all that had happened. 

“I know! But…I feel like if Dagur hadn’t been there, everyone else may have realized he’s not so scary. Maybe Rider can’t make friends with everyone in town. I know I can’t! But at least I wish people would stop looking at him like he’s some sort of…plague.” 

“Astrid darling, I think instead of getting the town to accept him how he is now, I think you’re better off breaking his curse first.” 

“So, you’re telling me it’s impossible?” 

Phlegma laughed. “No. I’m telling you, that curse is going to halt your progress either way. So…if you really want to help him, set him free.” 

Easier said than done, she supposed. The Rider was locked up tight on the subject. Why? Did he not want to be freed? That didn’t make much sense!

Or maybe…the key to breaking the curse was too steep of a price and he didn’t want anyone to pay it. 

—-

The next day, Astrid stood at her stall. She had been awake all night thinking about what her mother had said. First, she had to find a way to apologize to the Rider and make sure this wasn’t going to deter him from trying to be part of the village. Then, she had to convince him that letting her help was only a good thing. 

It was noon before she knew it. 

Something felt wrong today, as she heard doors and windows slamming shut. People hadn’t acted like that in a while. As she waited for him to round the corner, she heard shouting. 

Fearing the worst, she went to investigate. 

Dagur and several town guards had formed a line across the square, forbidding the Rider from continuing. 

The Rider stood on just the other side, pulling on Toothless’ reins, who whinnied in rage. 

“You are hereby banished from our village!” Dagur yelled, pointing a sword at him. “If you so much as step foot into this town again, you will be attacked on sight!” 

Astrid was enraged. How dare he! How dare he?! A scream of primal rage ripped from her throat and she ran right at Dagur, leaping onto his back and crushing the bone of her forearm against his throat. 

“You leave him alone, Dagur!” She snarled. “He’s never done a thing to you except bruise your ego!” 

Dagur finally got a hold of her and yanked her off, slamming her onto the ground. He delivered three swift punches to her face, and then pinned her to the ground with his boot. “I’ll deal with you in a minute, bitch!” 

Stunned and winded, Astrid let her head fall to the side, looking at the Rider. 

Ever unreadable, he just stood there. Toothless shook his head, agitated, and puffed huge plumes of smoke. 

“You see, Rider? I can hit you where it hurts!” 

Astrid tried to shove Dagur’s foot off of her, but he just ground harder into her stomach. 

“I see that hideous skull around here again, and every one of your little cult members will face my own kind of curse! You hear me?! I run this town, and you’re not welcome here!” 

Astrid pleaded with her eyes, begging him to do something. Anything. He needed to stand up for himself. He needed to put Dagur in his place.

He needed to protect her. 

But instead, he simply bowed his head, and turned. Toothless trotted away, back from where they came, with not a word of farewell. 

He didn’t even look at her. 

Once he was gone, Dagur removed his foot, and then gave her one hard kick in the ribs. “Leave her here. Let her wallow in her misery.” 

Instead, Snotlout appeared at her side. He had tears on his face as he lifted her up. “I gotcha. You’re okay.” 

“Did you not hear me, Snothat?!” Dagur hissed. 

Snotlout adjusted so that she was stable in his arms, then he turned to look at Dagur. “She was right, you know. He never did anything to you. But you? You beat up a woman. You should be disgusted.”

“I warned you before, Snot. I will have your job for talking to me like that.” 

“Fine with me,” he spat. 

Dagur gritted his teeth and raised his sword. 

Luckily, Heather stepped in, blocking his shot at Snotlout and Astrid. “Brother, stop this madness.” 

He scoffed. “Me? I’m the one that’s mad?!” 

Snotlout took the opportunity to back away and take Astrid home. But she could still hear the siblings arguing in the streets. 

“I’m trying to protect this town! How is that a bad thing!?” 

Gobber was already at her house when they arrived. He opened the door so Snotlout could bring her in. 

“Saw the whole thing, but I was too far to intervene,” said the Blacksmith. “That boy is utterly out of his mind!” 

Snotlout set Astrid down in a chair. “Water, she needs water.” 

“Who’s there?!” Mrs. Hofferson shouted from upstairs. 

“Snotlout and Gobber, ma’am! Astrid’s here too!” 

Astrid braced herself on the arms of the chair as her head swam. Her face throbbed, and it hurt to breathe. Dagur really didn’t pull any punches, and it had been a long time since she had been in a fight. 

Absently, she heard the door open and close and the voices of her other friends. It started to give her a headache. 

Finally, her mother was kneeling in front of her. “Astrid darling, are you okay?” 

“Mother, you shouldn’t be up…” she protested weakly. 

“Nonsense. My daughter is injured. I’m going to tend to her.” 

Tears rolled down her swollen cheeks. “He’s gone mama…” she whimpered. “He’s gone, and he never said goodbye.”  

“Oh my baby,” Phlegma embraced her in a gentle hug. Then she asked the room. “What happened? Who did this to my daughter?” 

Astrid rested her head on her mother’s shoulder and listened to the full story. 

“Dagur came to the barracks this morning and told us all that he was going to force the Rider out of town,” began Snotlout. “There wasn’t much protesting, but once he issued enough threats about pay, everyone was on board. Well, not me, but I didn’t know what to do. Right before he came to town, he had them all form a line to keep him from going to Astrid. Then, once the Rider arrived, he gave this long winded speech about how he’s been given power by Oswald and he’s the leader of the town and by his authority, the Rider was forbidden from entering the town.” 

“What a load of horse shit,” Phlegma spat. 

“He told the Rider that if he ever came back, he’d be attacked on sight.” He sighed. “That’s when Astrid arrived. She heard that much and did this…admittedly amazing grapple around his neck. But he slammed her to the ground and punched her.”

“I couldn’t stand by,” Astrid pleaded her case. “I had to fight for him.” Tears welled up again, and she sobbed. “But he just stood there…and then he left.” 

“Astrid,” Snotlout gripped her shoulder. “Everyone could tell he didn’t want to. But you were so vulnerable, I’m certain he was afraid of you getting hurt worse. Dagur had you pinned and had a sword.” 

She weakly wiped her face, her hand coming back smeared with blood. 

“We all know he loves you in his own way. That had to be really hard for him.” 

“I mean,” said Tuffnut. “Dagur basically threatened Rider with Astrid. After he threw her on the ground, he said ‘I know where to hit where it hurts.’” 

Phlegma held her daughter a little closer. 

“I think we need to be vigilant,” said Heather. “I talked him down for today, but there’s no telling when he’ll snap again.” 

“I think Astrid is the biggest target,” said Fishlegs. “We should take turns staying here and watching both of them.” 

Suddenly, the group heard maniacal laughter from outside. There was no doubt who it belonged to. The twins cautiously looked outside. 

“Aww…” Said Ruffnut. 

“That sucks.” 

“What?” Astrid asked, not actually wanting to know the answer.

Ruffnut met her gaze with sympathy. “He’s burning your cart, and all your flowers.” 

Dejected, Astrid hung her head. 

“It’s alright, lass. I’ll build you a new one,” Gobber squeezed her arm. 

“It’s not even mine. I have no way to pay for it…” She hid her face in her hands. “I hate him. I hate him so much.”

[animatorweirdo]

When the Dragons Fly (Book 3)

The journey had come to a calm start as the only trouble you and the host face is the relentless wind. You fear a snowstorm is coming thus seek shelter in the ruins of a former elven post, where you end up meeting a surprising creature.

Chapter 4

Warnings: bad weather, getting tired and cold, burned hands, nearly getting shot, getting threatened, people being weary, and finding cover from the storm.

-------------------------------------------------

The wind howled through the mountains, sending snow swirling through the air. You and your host had to shield yourselves from the wind and the snow that whipped against your faces. Some of the people were pushed back and some of the horses whined from the wind, stopping and acting up before being forced to move forward. The weather was not ideal, but luckily it wasn’t bad enough to hinder your progress on the road through the mountains, toward the south. 

An hour and a half had passed since you left the town and parted ways with the rest of the people who decided to follow Horren and his plan of escape. The sun had risen over the horizon, illuminating the world around you. Fortunately, there was no need to hurry for cover, as it would likely be hours before nightfall. If you continue moving at this pace, perhaps you could reach the end of the road before nightfall.

Deanna’s baby cried when another gust of wind hit you. Baelen covered his face to avoid getting any snow in his eyes. 

“Hey, (Name). I think this is a good time to take a break and rest our feet. My boys told me that some of our folks are getting tired after walking so long,” he said while trying to prevent his hood from falling off. 

“I agree. It would be a good time to drink water and check in on the road,” Deanna added, trying to comfort her baby who was less than happy about the weather. 

You stopped in your tracks and glanced behind you, observing the tired expressions on the people as they began stretching their limbs. You personally preferred to keep moving, but then you remembered that you were used to walking long distances during your days as a war commander. In those times, you often needed to keep your soldiers moving due to certain circumstances. However, since your host was not comprised of soldiers, it would be best to let them rest.

“Fine… Let us take a break. We can take cover from the wind over there,” you pointed toward a large opening well-covered by the surrounding mountains. 

Baelen and Deanna nodded. You helped the host settle on the opening and finally allowed them to rest. You then thought you could let them wait till the wind died down. 

You waited at the edge of the cliff, observing through the sky and waiting for Aelon to show up. He had kept a good watch in the front. You told him to scout the road and mountains ahead to ensure that no enemies were hiding there, and then fly a circle in your view to signal that the road was safe before continuing forward. Now you wanted to catch his attention and land so he could rest too. 

However, you were starting to get concerned with the weather. 

You had expected there to be wind, but as it continued blowing without showing any signs of calming down, you started to suspect that a snowstorm was coming.

Pulling out your gloves, you checked on the burns on your hands. 

You stared as your red skin was slightly aching and tearing off, but surprisingly there was no pain anymore. It was strange. It had only been a day since you burned your hands, but it felt like the wounds were already healing itself. 

Helena walked over to you. 

“Oh god!” she exclaimed, shocked when she saw the state of your hands. 

“What happened to your hands?” she questioned as she grabbed them and took a closer look. “Did you get burned?” she asked.

“I… burned them when I tried to save Eweniel’s parents,” you explained as she continued inspecting the burns on your hands.  

“Well, why didn’t you say anything? Let Eda take a look. These look serious,” she said as she looked around for Eda. 

“No. Helena. It's fine. I actually don’t feel any pain,” you said. 

“How can you not feel pain? I’m pretty certain you should not be able to hold a sword with these hands?” she questioned. 

“I don’t know why. They did hurt when they got burned, but now. I barely feel anything at all. I guess they are healing,” you answered. 

“Well, whatever it might be. I still think you should Eda bandage them up for god's sake. So, come along now, you jerk,” she said, grabbing your hand and pulling you along. 

You rolled your eyes at her but allowed her to pull you along to see Eda. Your hands were bruised badly during the ambush, so maybe you should have them treated. 

Aelon looked down from his dragon’s saddle as the two flew through the sky. He carefully observed all the mountain tops and the road, making sure there wasn’t anything suspicious or indication that the enemy was there to set up another ambush. 

Falconer shook his head as he flew through another wind. He released an unhappy sound as they had been flying against the wind for some time. Aelon kept his dragon calm. Even though he was not fond of the wind either, he needed to continue his task. 

Aelon’s heart began to race when he saw what seemed to be ruins of an abandoned fortress at the side of the road. 

The road continued through an old gate and walls that had crumbled down over time. The fortress was made out of bluish-gray stones that were covered by the snow. One single large tower rose over the fortress, standing alone as the other towers had crumbled or were destroyed by something that happened a long time ago. On a few of its walls were strange machines that were broken. Aelon could only guess that they were machines used to throw rocks and something big at those who dared to attack the fortress. 

The place looked haunted and nearly sent shivers down Aelon’s spine. He wasn’t certain if the fortress was supposed to be there, but he flew closer to see if it was truly abandoned. 

Aelon scanned every corner of the ruins, searching for anything out of the ordinary as he flew past. He began to conclude that the place was abandoned, but then his eyes caught movement in the shadows. It was fleeting, and Aelon didn’t have time to see what it was before already having flown past the fortress. 

He ordered Falconer to fly back and try to see the movement again. However, this time he saw nothing. 

Aelon stared at the fortress. He was uncertain what he saw, but he had a gut feeling that something was lingering in the fortress. He guided his dragon to fly back to you and the host, needing to tell you what he saw. 

After having your hands coated with medicine and wrapped up in bandages by Eda, who was not pleased by your silence about the burns, you returned to the cliffside to wait for Aelon, feeling the fabric around your hands. You looked around the mountains and then you saw Aelon return with Falconer. 

The wind caused by Falconer’s wings brushed against your face as Aelon landed on the side of the road. Falconer crumbled, shaking his head to get rid of the snow stuck between his spikes and scales. 

“(Name). There’s an abandoned fortress not too far away from here. I’m not certain if it's supposed to be there,” Aelon called out from the saddle. 

“Yes. I’m aware of it. It showed on the older maps. I believe it used to be a former elven post that watched over this road,” you explained. 

“That’s not all. I think there’s something in there. I didn’t get a good look but I saw something moving in the shadow. I think there might be a person or a creature hiding there,” Aelon said. 

“You saw only one?” you questioned with a frown. 

“I think so. I think I would have noticed if there was more than one hiding there,” Aelon answered. 

“Hm…” you thought about the information. 

You and the host will not be in danger if it is only one creature. There was a chance it was a person trying to run away from the north as well. However, you needed to inform Baelen and Deanna that you needed to prepare for possible contact, and perhaps seek cover in the fortress from a possible snowstorm. 

“Alright. Thank you, Aelon. Come down to stretch. We are resting for ten more minutes before we continue,” you stated before leaving to find Baelen and Deanna. 

Aelon climbed down from his dragon’s saddle, stretching his feet and hips after riding so long. His dragon looked down on him, nudging him with its snout. 

“Yeah, yeah. I go fetch you a snack, now stay,” Aelon brushed his dragon away and went to check on his friends. 

Aelon found his two friends lounging near rocks, eating what seemed to be beef jerky. 

“Hey, can I have some?” Aelon asked as he walked over to them. 

“Sure. Here,” Eweniel threw him a piece. Aelon caught it and then began tearing the dry meat with his teeth. 

“How are things with you guys?” Aelon asked as he sat on a rock. 

“Pretty good. Despite the cold and Aegar trying to steal the rest of the treats from Rodrick,” Eweniel explained as Rodrick pulled the bag away from Aegar. 

“I already gave some. Stop being greedy!” Rodrick exclaimed, but Aegar continued staring at the bag with hungry eyes. 

Aelon smiled, glad that his friends were getting along with the dragons. He saw Viserya resting between Eweniel and Rodrick. Aegar was still trying to get more treats from Rodric’s bag. 

He frowned when he failed to find Smoke among his siblings. 

“Where’s Smoke?” he asked, looking around for the youngest of the three. 

“I don’t know. He was here a moment ago,” Eweniel answered, looking around with him. 

You stood with Baelen and Deanna, having informed them about the fortress and the possibility of something lingering within its ruins. You also told them about the coming weather and the option to seek shelter in the ruins. 

“What do you suggest we do?” Baelen questioned. 

“We can handle it If it's just some lost orc or a goblin, but if it's something else and something nastier than those two…” he said. 

“That might be unlikely, but we should approach with caution. We don’t really have an option to turn back,” you explained. 

“I will be the first to investigate. Have your people ready to defend on the front if it's something else we do not expect,” you said and the two agreed on the plan. 

After ten minutes passed, you all continued your journey through the road. Aelon watched over you in the sky and after an hour's walk, you reached the abandoned fortress that lay in front of you. 

As planned, you stepped first through the gate. Holding your hand on the hilt of your sword and carefully observing each corner of the ruins. 

You heard Aelon land on one of the walls. Some of the stones fell under Falconer’s weight and the dragon curiously watched as you stepped through the front yard. Your eyes looked around, but could not find anything strange at first. 

It was dead quiet as well. Your ears heard nothing but the wind and the snow that flew with it.

“I swear I saw something,” Aelon broke the silence, but then at that moment, an arrow flew toward you, hitting the ground in front of you. It bounced off and you all were startled by the sudden shot. 

“Son of a –” Baelen and his men quickly pulled out their swords. 

 Falconer hissed and growled toward one of the windows. You followed the dragon’s gaze and saw a shadow quickly hide behind the wall. 

You looked at the arrow and saw it was not orchis made. It was smaller than regular arrows but made from wood thick enough to pierce through your skull if it struck you in the head. But since the shooter only aimed at your feet, it was meant as a warning. 

“Calm down!” you ordered as you looked toward the tower. 

“We come in peace! We mean no harm!” you shouted out with your arms open. 

“One step closer and I will shoot another one between your eyes!” a deep yet scruffy voice of a man echoed across the yard. You put a note to the voice, but hearing the accent of the voice gave you an odd sense of familiarity. You remember hearing that type of accent before, but where? 

“You do not have to fear us! We only want to pass through and perhaps seek cover for the night!” you called out. “There is a snowstorm coming soon. If you allow us, we would only like to take cover from the storm,” you explained, looking around for the shadow. 

“Why don’t you come out so we can speak face to face?” you asked. “I will give you my word that we will cause no harm to you,” you added. 

“Do you really expect me to take your word with that beast behind you?” the man called out. 

“I will not trust servants of Morgoth!” he yelled. 

You looked toward Aelon. Aelon looked back at you with hesitation but seemed to understand what you meant. He and Falconer flew away from the wall, leaving you with the hiding man.

“I’m on my own now. We will not do anything to you as long as you promise not to shoot me down,” you explained. “Shall we now speak?” you questioned. 

A short man appeared from the shadows. He held a crossbow in his hand, loaded and aimed at you. His hair and beard that reached the end of his stomach were dark brown, and his left eye was covered with a bloody bandage. He wore a type of armor you saw the dwarves and their king wear during their battle against Glaurung. 

You held your hands up to appear nonthreatening. 

“A dwarf?” Baelen questioned as he and his men watched the dwarf with caution. 

“My name is (Name) Targaryen. May I know your name, master dwarf?” you introduced yourself. 

“What use is for a servant of Morgoth to know my name?” the dwarf spoke with a glare as he still aimed at you with his crossbow. 

“I know what this looks like, but I can assure you that I am no servant of Morgoth,” you answered.

“Of course you are! Why else would you have one of those creatures following your orders?!” The dwarf snapped at you. “I do admit I never seen a flying one. It only makes me wonder what other kinds of spawns of Glaurung now roam these lands,” he stated as he held his sight on you. 

“This may be hard to believe. But that dragon is not one of Glaurung’s children,” you explained calmly. “And Morgoth does not have flying dragons to serve him. If he did then things would be a lot worse,” you said, looking at him in the eye. 

“That dragon is here to protect us. We are trying to escape the north,” you explained, motioning toward Baelen and the rest of the host. 

The dwarf then looked toward the people. Baelen and his men looked back at him with caution. You all stared at each other before the dwarf laid down his crossbow. 

“Alright then… You seem to be telling the truth,” he said. 

“You may call me Torim Bonerock, but don’t expect us to be friends. I know there is a snowstorm coming, but I do not want one of those things near me. Keep it that way, and maybe we can pass the night without trouble,” Torim stated with a sharp glare. 

“Thank you.” You said gratefully, not phased by his glare. 

Torim nodded then retreated into the fortress. Baelen and his men sheathed their swords after seeing the dwarf walk away. You released a sigh and then encouraged the people to step into the ruins. With caution, the host walked through the gate. When the weariness vanished and the fortress was secured, the people settled in and prepared for the coming snowstorm.

Taglist: @natchayaphorn@kimnamnu@thatrandomidiot182@springfountain@maedhrosiseverything2me

[cibeeorsomeshit]

Day Seven: Sun Moon Stars/Magic (Ao3)

Your sort-of boyfriend was going to do his full moon magic shit and he didn’t sound very enthusiastic about it. So you said you would be there to take care of him when he was done. And so you did.

There was a craze in Stolas’ eyes he wasn’t used to during the first time he was allowed — maybe more precisely, allowed himself — to see what Stolas actually needed the book on the full moon for. Blitzø thought it would be like Stolas’ usual works, looking through the giant telescope, mumbling to himself and taking notes. Grinding herbs into paste and straining them through oil, putting this one in glass tubes and that one in brass jars or another one in cast iron pots, before sending them off to different royals for who knew what. Blitzø joked about Stolas being a witch, and Stolas gleefully conjured an accurate witch hat and a not so accurate slutty witch outfit. That was fun and all, but seeing Stolas during his full moon duty made it extremely clear how instead of the witch, Stolas was the kind of demon that witches worshiped for. 

Blitzø never stayed past the set up stage. He never had reasons to. The whole thing took hours at an unholy time and Blitzø wasn’t about to drive his ass home himself when he was dead tired. Now, though, he could slip into Stolas’ bed without feeling like he was a discarded dildo, he could stay as long as he wanted. 

Stolas was hesitant, and told Blitzø not to push himself, please don’t feel like he needed to stay.

“I won’t disturb your weird ritual, don’t worry.” Blitzø curled up on the small (for Goeita’s standard) settee up against the cold stonewall of the astronomy tower. Stolas stood under the oculus that saw the night sky, waiting for the moon to reach the top. 

Stolas raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you would.”

“So what’s the deal?”

“I just think you might be more comfortable in our bed, that’s all.”

Our bed. It was a wonder Blitzø didn’t die on the spot with how hard his heart jumped at that. It had been three weeks since it became their bed. Just like the balcony was their spot, and Silkworm was their horse.

“Whatever, I want to be here,” Blitzø said. “I said I was gonna take you back to bed after you're done so I’m gonna.”

Stolas did not mention how rough Blitzø’s voice sounded, but he did walk over to kiss Blitzø’s horns, and then his lips, because they couldn't help it.

“It’s almost time.” Stolas said when they parted. No shit, Blitzø didn’t say, the tinge of mania in Stolas’ eyes and the red glow to his talons said it all. 

“Go do your thing.” Blitzø waved him away like someone would a child refusing school. Stolas seemed to find it amusing, and Blitzø quickly realized why he was gently warned he could leave if he wanted to.

The chalk-written runes and sigils beneath Stolas glowed from the moonlight shining in through the oculus. The grimoire unraveled itself, pages split from the spin with sickening tearing noise, rearranging themselves around Stolas as though he was the eye in a storm. 

Weird, but who was weirded out by these shits anymore? Certainly not Blitzø. No, what made him realize he might be out of his element was when he had to check if his head was still attached to his body, then also checking if his hands were still attached to his arms, because he felt like he was coming apart at the seams too, and he was seeing Stolas from everywhere, the front, the back the sides. A droning silence enveloped the tower. A pulsating void that messed with Blitzø’s brain in the way he would never admit to Stolas later that yeah, he probably should have just fucking gone to bed.

“Satan’s rotting anus,” Blitzø said out loud and yet somehow no noise hit the air even though he could feel his throat muscles move. He burrowed underneath the settee cushions and thought really hard  about the fat joint he was going to need after all of this.

He didn’t know how long it lasted, but he did know the exact moment it ended. Sounds that normally Blitzø never registered (the faint buzzing of city lights, airflow going in and out of gaps in the wall, his own breathing) was all at once alarmingly present. But there was only one sound he cared about: the clicks of talons finally resting on the stone floor, and the slump of a hollow-boned body. 

Blitzø disentangled himself from the cushions and was at Stolas’ side in a second. The whole reason Blitzø insisted on staying was because of this. Because weeks ago Stolas made a throwaway remark about how “dreadful” he always felt after the ritual. “Dreadful” was Stolas-speak for “fucking shit out of whack,” so sue him if Blitzø was feeling too tenderhearted after sleeping without nightmares for weeks straight, and just couldn’t stand the thought of Stolas alone and miserable. 

And Stolas did look miserable, laying there like he wanted to rot into the ground. At least he wasn’t alone. 

“Hey,” Blitzø called. Moving Stolas now would probably cause him to throw up, so their bed would have to wait. Instead he gently placed Stolas’ head on his knees, claws running through head feathers that still crackled with electricity. “Hey, pretty bird.”

Stolas mumbled at the pet name, one in four eyes blinking open slightly. “You’re here.” 

“I said I was gonna stay.”

“I thought it might be too uncomfortable for you.” Stolas was slurring his words like how Blitzø texted.

“You saying I’m weak or some shit?”

Stolas chuckled. “No. Though I suppose I should have known better.” 

“Damn right you should.”

Stolas finally managed to peel open all his eyes, and they immediately focused on Blitzø. The mania was still there, faintly, but pushed to the side by the L-word Stolas somehow knew how to say through gazes alone. 

“It’s so easy.” Stolas said, apropos of nothing.

“What?”

“This has never been easy for me.” Stolas continued. He turned and snuggled into Blitzø’s stomach. “But you’re here, and suddenly it’s easy. Even — fulfilling, like being rewarded after a job well done.”

Blitzø’s movement nearly halted at that. He never made something easy for someone. He never was a reward for a tired lover. If he was scared of love before, he had no idea how much more terrible it would feel to be scared of losing it. 

It was a good feeling. 

Blitzø gathered Stolas in his arms, tucking all of him in like they were already in bed, like how Stolas tucked him in when Blitzø showed up all those full moons ago and slept in what was now their bed for the first time without sex. It was his turn now.

“Let me take you to bed.” Blitzø said. 

And Stolas knew, Blitzø was really saying the L-word.

(Day Five&Six) ←

[dawn-moths]

“Our Love Was Written in the Stars”

Kaeya Alberich x Female Reader

word count: 18,700+

(After losing touch with your childhood best friend and first love, you find yourself face to face with Kaeya four years later while back in Mondstadt for a university research project. While part of you had hoped to see him, you also hadn’t expected it to be so soon. But the more you two begin to reconnect, the more you realize he missed you just as much as you missed him. So, with a lot of lost time to make up for, you and Kaeya explore the relationship you were probably always meant to have.)

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! Mostly fluff and then smut at the end, some spoilers for Kaeya and Diluc’s backstory (though I’m sure I didn’t get the exact timeline right), childhood friends to lovers, drinking/alcohol, some hurt/comfort with a little bit of angst, slow burn.

*thank you to the anon who requested this fic, i hope you enjoy!*

*ao3 mirror*

***

Things always seemed so much simpler, looking back. Things used to last longer.

A day spent playing with your friends would feel like forever. At least, until the time came to go home. Then it felt like the fun had barely even begun.

And the four weeks out of every year— two in the fall and two in the spring— that your father left you under the care of the Ragnvindr household’s staff while he and Crepus were off on a mutual business trip in one of the other nations…

Those weeks had lasted eons.

That was, of course, until both of the wine tycoons returned and you were once again whisked away back to your own family estate.

However, even as you became more aware of just how short that sliver of time was the older you grew, you never stopped looking forward to spending those weeks with Master Ragnvindr’s sons, Kaeya and Diluc, who were just about the same age as you.

You used to kick and cry and scream when your father told you to thank Crepus and his boys for letting you stay with them before you headed home. Then, after a very stern talking to about how, if that kind of behavior was to result every time your father returned to retrieve you, you wouldn’t be allowed to stay with your friends anymore, you turned to crying yourself to sleep on the last night in the Ragnvindr mansion and the first night back in yours.

By the time you were a teenager, the pain of leaving your closest friends had been reduced to a dull ache in your heart. You knew you’d see them again. By then, you didn’t even have to wait for your fathers’ business trips, because for your thirteenth birthday you’d been given a horse, your father allowing you to ride there any day you pleased— so long as all your lessons where completed with your private tutor— insisting one of the boys accompanied you home before dark.

It was always Kaeya who brought you back, so eager at the first chance he’d practically volunteered himself before you’d finished the explanation of your father’s conditions. And you’d been grateful for the extra time with him, sometimes racing each other through the winding woods that lay in between your home and his as your laughter and playful taunts echoed through the trees.

It had always been Kaeya, in so many ways.

It had always been Kaeya who was so excited to play with you when your father dropped you off, even if just for a few hours while he and Crepus disappeared off to one of the private meeting rooms to discuss more business.

It had always been Kaeya who let you choose the games, who would be enthusiastic whether you were playing war or house or hide and seek.

It had always been Kaeya who held your hand when you got sad, squeezed it a little as he told you not to cry, that you’d see each other again soon.

It had always been Kaeya who wrote to you during the winter months when you’d become snowed in, neither of you able to travel the miles it took to see each other let alone get much further than the front door.

And it wasn’t that Diluc was forgotten. But he’d never been as willing to play along.

For a little while, the three of you had been an even trio, the boys happy to have a new playmate and you, well, you had no siblings of your own back home. You were just happy not to be alone. But as time went on, the scales shifted.

No matter what you wanted to do, Kaeya was always on board. Diluc would argue, say he’d rather sneak out to the back woods that lined the edge of the property and play manhunt or adventurer than sit around wasting time doing stupid arts and crafts projects or dressing up in ridiculous outfits in order to make each other laugh.

You’d start to get upset as the two brothers would fight, Kaeya calling Diluc selfish while Diluc insisted Kaeya was just a pushover.

“It’s all because you like her!” the young Ragnvindr would spit, clearly trying to rile Kaeya. “That’s why you’re always doing whatever she wants, even if it’s stupid and boring!” That was about the time Kaeya would lunge at his brother, the two of them tackling each other to the ground and throwing flailing punches while you yelled at them not to fight, your eyes welling with tears.

In the end, Diluc would storm off and go do whatever he did when he was alone, maybe just sulk in his room for all you knew, but Kaeya would never chase after him. He’d come back to you, assure you that his brother was the boring one for always wanting to play the same games, and then hold your hand and help wipe your tears, giving you a smile as he told you he’d sneak into his father’s study to steal some of the new paints that had recently arrived, maybe snag an old canvas or two he didn’t think the master of the house would notice missing.

You’d smile and hug him, even join him in getting into trouble sometimes, and then it was like all your worries faded away. Because there was something about Kaeya, about being around him, that always helped untangle any knots that had formed in your heart.

But your most favorite thing to do with Kaeya— not that you didn’t love the games and the giggles and the mischief you shared— was to sneak out his window on the second floor and climb up onto the roof with him where you’d both lay side by side, hand in hand, and look up at the stars.

You’d get scared sleeping alone and inevitably pitter-patter your way to his room, giving a gentle tap on his door before cracking it open with a broken whisper of his name on your lips. He’d sit upright in bed, flipping the layers of blankets back and padding his little feet across the floor to come meet you, reminding you there was nothing to be afraid of.

He’d told you that the dark was not an enemy, that it could be beautiful and inviting and that he’d show you how.

The star gazing in itself eventually became a game, as most mundane between you two often did, and you’d gradually begin to cheer up as you and him took turns creating shapes in the stars and trying to guess the constellations that floated above your heads.

Kaeya’s favorite was the peacock— one he’d made up and had quite the time trying to get you to form the shape of as he directed your eyes to all the little twinkling dots of light in the correct order— and once you saw it you hummed to yourself. It suited him, and when you told him this around the third time he pointed it out he’d just rolled his eyes and smirked, coyly suggesting you were jealous he’d found such a cool grouping of stars.

But what you didn’t know was that, as much as the peacock reminded you of your friend, the grandiose bird also began to remind Kaeya of you, too.

The peacock soon made its way into his letters, a carefully drawn eyespot feather in indigo ink signed at the bottom of every message. It made you smile to yourself, your heart full and lonely at the same time.

It was Kaeya’s way of saying “I love you. I want you to never forget that, just like I never forgot the night I showed you the peacock in the sky.” But if you were aware of the symbol’s significance, you didn’t seem to return the favor when you sent a reply.

How could you, when you’d convinced yourself he would never think of you that way? When he’d treat you like a little sister one day only to perform something common of courtship the next?

Kaeya was reluctantly sentimental. Perhaps that was a side effect of being abandoned by his birth father at such a young age, a bitter lesson to never get too attached to anything or anyone in fear of losing them. But he couldn’t help how attached he’d become to you.

In some ways, you two had felt more like siblings than he and Diluc did, for a while.

You used to wish Kaeya was your real brother. That way you two would forever be bonded, no matter how great the distance or time between you. But as you entered into your teenage years, your heart and your mind changing along with your body, something about that notion began to shift and evolve as well.

By the time you were sixteen, Kaeya’s playful flirtations and cheeky winks felt like they held more weight than before. Because your immediate reaction wasn’t to roll your eyes or slap his arm like it had been in previous years. Now, those gestures made your ears run hot and your hummingbird heart bat its wings a little faster. But you could never quite tell if he was joking or not, perhaps just being mischievously mean to get a reaction out of you which, as he’d learned pretty early on, wasn’t that hard to do.

But sometimes, when you replayed his words or actions in your head when you were alone— the way his voice dipped lower, tone smooth and tempting as his eyes scanned your body, his fingers brushing against yours during dinner time or as he handed you a book from a high shelf you couldn’t reach— you asked yourself why you weren’t willing to play this game with him, if that’s all it really was.

Deep down you knew it must be. Because, if you did decide to join in, it might cease to be a game altogether. At least, for you it would. And then what if you found out he’d been joking all along? It would break your heart. It would ruin everything. It was a risk you weren’t willing to take.

So you held your tongue and clenched your jaw when your best friend, adopted brother, star-crossed lover in a different life— whatever Kaeya was to you— gave you those winks when no one else was watching. When he came up behind you and stood just a little too close, said something about how, pretty soon, he’d be a whole head taller than you…

And on slow, quiet days as rain poured from the sky and dark clouds flooded the valley and you both found yourselves huddled on the chaise by the fireplace when you read your book aloud and Kaeya listened like he only cared about the sound of your voice and not the story, as he combed his lithe fingers gently through your hair, smoothing out the tangles while you entertained him— and sometimes even Diluc, if he had nothing better to do— with tales of dragons and knights, talking animals and princesses who wielded silver swords…

You told yourself all of it— every word and glance and ghosting touch— meant absolutely nothing.

It was all for the sake of ensuring Kaeya stayed in your life, just as he’d always been, after all.

How ironic your feeble attempt at control became because of one fateful, unforgivable night.

†††

You’d heard the news from Diluc, of all people— the news that Crepus Ragnvindr was dead and Kaeya Alberich was nowhere to be found.

Though, Kaeya had been found eventually, slumped over in a bar tucked away in some alley, drinking himself stupid as he gazed deep into the miniature snowstorm that swirled within the cryo vision clutched in his palm. But even as his speech slurred and his movements lagged and staggered, he refused to come back home.

Eventually, those who’d been sent to fetch their deceased master’s adopted son gave up. They left the tavern and headed back to report their findings to Diluc, who continued to turn a cold shoulder and act as if he wasn’t worried or bothered about his brother’s well-being in the slightest.

So when he’d told you, his tone stiff and cruel and spiteful, you’d found yourself crying before your brain even had time to process what had just been said.

“Where is he now?” you’d asked, your voice cracking as you tried to clear the heartbreak away.

“If he’s not still drowning his sorrows, well…” Diluc sneered, already turning his back on you and heading into the house that you’d known as well as your own— the house you now might never see the inside of ever again— all that remained being the shadows of your memories left flickering on the walls by the candlelight or echoing eerily down the long hallways late at night. “Then I have no idea where he is.”

However, his long red hair, usually kept so orderly but rather disheveled at the moment, and the dark circles under his crimson eyes told a different story as to how Diluc was dealing with his missing brother.

Your mouth opened to ask what the bar was called, at least, but all that was able to leave your mouth before the door slammed in your face was a broken squeak. From there, you rode into the city, spent nearly the entire night hopping from one bar to the next only in hopes of catching a glimpse of all that navy hair or hearing a burst of that confident laughter.

By the time morning came and your search had yielded nothing other than a widening in the hollow carved out in your chest and the dizziness of the sleepless night, you had no choice but to call it quits. You wrote to Kaeya the moment you returned home, the letter not even making it into the envelope before you finally collapsed into bed. It was a simple message, but direct enough.

Kaeya, it read in your curling scrawl, though this time a little messier on account of the exhaustion. Please, tell me what happened? Where have you gone? I need to see you.

About a week later, when his reply came, your heart nearly lept out of your throat, your eager, shaking hands tearing the gold envelope with your name printed perfectly across it to shreds, letting the scraps of paper fall to the floor around your feet.

Your eyes watered upon seeing his handwriting again. You could hear his voice as you quickly scanned the page, a narration that had once been so enthusiastic and charming now turned regretful and hesitant.

But Kaeya did tell you what happened, both about Crepus Ragnvindr and the arrival of his Vision. When you reached the end of the explanation, however, you began to panic. Because you were sure there had to be more than that. He would’ve told you where he’d gone, wouldn’t he? He would’ve said he was coming to you, that he’d be arriving by the following afternoon.

But there were no words left, only the frayed edge of the parchment’s end.

There wasn’t even the signing of his name, always so beautiful and poetic in his elegant, looping cursive.

There was only a shaky drawing of a peacock feather, the ink smudged at the edge of the eyespot like Kaeya hadn’t been patient enough to let it dry before sending it.

†††

It had been nearly four years since you left the nation of Mondstadt.

Four years since you applied for and got accepted into one of the top universities in Liyue, moving to the nation of contracts and Mora and ore, now only returning to your home territory for a prestigious research project you still couldn’t believe you got approved onto the small team of.

Four years since hearing from the boy you’d grown up with, loved, and then lost.

You stood before the city’s high walls and felt that familiar breeze weaving through your hair, the warm summer air being drawn shakily into your lungs as you took one, long inhale, then exhaled the remnants of your past back out to be carried across the rolling hills on the wind. You forced yourself to step past the Knights guarding the front entrance, hoping to hide your reservations at being back in your homeland while your two eager and excited classmates pointed out unfamiliar and interesting things to each other a little ways ahead of you.

They were Liyue born and raised and had taken you under their wing when you’d been the stranger in a new city, all wide-eyed and anxiously hopeful. You wished you could return the favor in being their personal tour guide, but it’s just that the ache you thought you’d left behind after departing from the city of Freedom is back and it hurts, pulsing between your ribs and making it a little harder to breathe through the season’s humidity.

But it’s the beginning of June, the sky a clear and nearly cloudless blue. The birds are chirping from the eaves of the houses and the cobblestone is sure and strong under your feet, familiar smells drifting out from the Good Hunter restaurant beckoning you in for some of your childhood favorites. Perhaps that would make you feel better.

But, then again, it’s also possible that it could make you feel much, much worse.

“You never told us how lively it was!” one of your classmates, Haoyu, calls back to you. You give him a weak smile and continue with your steady pace.

“Yeah, or how many cute boys live in Mondstadt,” your other friend, Fenhua, slyly remarks as she eyes a trio of Knights strolling by.

“I can’t believe we get to spend the whole summer here,” Haoyu goes on, turning in circles as he gazes up at all the architecture that touches the sky. Then he gives you a mischievous look as he teasingly asks, “First night out is on you, right?”

You scoff as your lips pull up into a crooked smirk. “Yeah, you wish,” you reply.

Fenhua gives Haoyu a nudge and reminds him jokingly, “So much for all that talk about your family owning one of the ports. What, were you overcompensating for secretly being bankrupt or something?”

The two of them bicker and banter back and forth until Fenhua is laughing, but the details of their conversation fade into the busy sounds of the city as your memories fill in the gaps.

You still remember how it used to feel running these streets beside Kaeya and Diluc. It was rare that your fathers let you come here, always so strict about keeping their heirs protected and secure behind the iron wrought gates of their looming estates. But, every once in a while, you were able to convince one of the caretakers who had been put in charge of watching you three for the day to let you accompany her into the city.

You’d all pressed your noses to the shop windows, gazing inside and picking out the object you liked best. Kaeya always had the most expensive taste. You and Diluc used to tease him for it, always guessing which one he’d choose based on what seemed to cost the most Mora.

“Don’t be mad that I can spot luxury just by looking at it,” Kaeya used to defend with his nose up in the air, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s not my fault I enjoy nice things.”

Diluc would tease his brother for it, say he ought to be more humble once in a while, but you’d usually just end up agreeing with Kaeya. The ring or scarf or shoes he’d pointed out as his favorite was usually to your liking too, though you’d never considered yourself confident or flashy enough to pull them off. Kaeya valued beauty over practicality while Diluc liked something simple that could serve its purpose.

You supposed you were somewhere in the middle.

And, maybe, as you were now leisurely pacing the streets, you’d been hoping to catch a glimpse of that flowing, navy hair out of the corner of your eye, hear that devilish chuckle echoing down the alleys. For all you knew, Kaeya didn’t even live anywhere near Mondstadt anymore. Perhaps that would make it easier for you to stay the season here, if only you had a way to confirm it.

But then, something made you stop in your tracks. As two more Knights passed by you and your curious classmates, you glanced over your shoulder, eager to catch what you could of their conversation…

“…Cavalry Captain is always trying to get others to do his work for him,” one grumbled. “I swear, he really thinks he gets a pass just because of his looks.”

“Aww, don’t be jealous,” the other Knight teased his colleague. “Besides, you can’t tell me that if you weren’t as attractive as Kaeya you wouldn’t use it to your advantage too.”

You felt like your blood had turned to ice, veins frosted over from your head to your toes, numbing your fingertips as you just stood in the middle of the street, your friends traveling a little ways ahead of you until they turned and realized you’d lagged behind.

“Hey!” Haoyu called, tugging you back to reality. But it isn’t until you felt a hand lightly resting on your arm that you broke from your wide eyed, seemingly terrified trance and saw they’d both returned to your side. “What’s up? Everything ok?” he asked, looking a little concerned while Fenhua looked dangerously intrigued.

“Oh, yeah…” you nervously giggled, turning to face them and urging them to follow as you slowly made your way further down the street. “I thought I forgot something important back in Liyue but I remembered I have it now. I’m good.”

The rest of the day was spent trying to act like you hadn’t heard the name you’d been trying so hard to let go of.

But now you know.

Kaeya Alberich was not only still in Mondstadt, but the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius.

Maybe it’s a different Kaeya, you spent the remainder of the week trying to convince yourself.

But you know it’s not a different Kaeya.

Kaeya is a rarity.

A one of a kind.

You’ve never met another him and you probably never will.

So the question then becomes, over the years, had he met another you?

†††

The research project keeps you busy and focused…

Until it doesn’t.

June has come and gone and now the saplings of late spring have turned to the blossoms of early July, decorating the trees with pale lilacs and pinks, the air a little thicker, the sun burning a little hotter as it beams down on you, beading sweat on your brow as you and your classmates work day after day to study, log, and produce results for what could potentially be a very big door into all your futures.

You’re up late one night, jotting down a few more notes and trying not to smudge the ink as you struggle to read Haoyu’s jagged scrawl and compare techniques. You keep trying to stay centered and present, replaying the day’s work in your mind to accurately contribute to the project, but every time you go to put pen to paper, his face pops into your head and makes the sharp nib hover over the parchment, the unwritten words captured in the ink desperate to be recorded but denied again and again.

You’ve wondered whether you should reach out to Kaeya or not.

Did he know you were back? If he did, would he even care? Were you overthinking all of this?

Well, at least you knew the answer to the last of those questions, which was absolutely.

But how could you not? You could only assume, with the way things had ended, or rather, faded away, that he had no interest in contacting you. He’d had these past four years to do so and you hadn’t seen a single peacock feather in all that time.

Maybe he hated you.

But why would he? You’d done nothing wrong.

But what if he did? What if he hated you?

You let the pen fall from your hands, tiny blotches of ink that had been knocked loose freckling the page of your notes, and let out an exasperated sigh as you leaned back in your chair, slumping and turning your face up to the ceiling, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to rid his image from your mind.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to go to him. You wished you’d never come back to this city. You’ve been dying to see him. You were so mad at him for torturing you like this. You just wanted to see him smile at you again like he did back when everything was alright. You wanted to hit him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted a drink, a distraction, anything to still your mind for a little while.

So when Fenhua came scampering into the room a little while later with the proposal that the three of you get out for a bit and have some fun because all this damn research was starting to make all of you slowly go insane, you were grateful for the invitation.

As you approached the Angel’s Share, hanging in the back of your trio, always the quiet, observant one of your pack, you felt a familiar feeling. It wasn’t quite dread, but it wasn’t quite excitement either.

It was more like anticipation.

Something was going to happen tonight, here, at this place.

You just didn’t know whether you wanted to be brave enough to step through the tavern doors and figure out what it was.

But it seemed you didn’t have much of a choice as Fenhua and Haoyu looped their arms through each of yours, guiding you inside with them, clearly sensing you needed the support.

The moment the door swung open, the jumbled noise of constant, lively chatter along with the clinking of glasses and boisterous shouts flooded the air around you, drawing you in. And soon, to your relief, you found that maybe anticipation didn’t always warn of something bad, but instead hinted that something good was on its way. Because, as you took a seat between your two friends at the bar, you found yourself smiling and laughing without even having to fake it anymore.

You made a toast to all your hard work so far, and to all the work that was still to come, may the Archons bless it to go smoothly. About an hour in, you felt lighter, warmer, and, with the help of some of that liquid courage flowing through your veins, a little more confident.

“Hey, I’ll be right back!” you shouted to Fenhua who, despite being right next to you, still might not’ve even heard you over the ever growing rowdiness, each passing hour bringing with it more lively patrons.

You turned and slid off the barstool, heading for the tiny bathroom where the line had finally shortened, leaning against the nook in the wall while waiting for the current occupant to exit and gazing out at the mass of moving people in a daze when you finally caught it— a glimpse of all that navy hair, the charming chuckle of a man blessed with good fortune and even better looks cutting through the noise of the packed crowd.

You and Kaeya locked eyes from across the room and then neither of you were smiling anymore. But Kaeya never let any surprise he felt show for too long, remedying his sudden shock with a small smirk while your heart continued to pound. You hadn’t even realized you’d been holding your breath until the tightness in your lungs turned into a dull ache, reminding you to exhale the air you’d been halfway to sucking down before the sight of him suffocated you.

The bathroom door opened behind you, the exiting occupant nudging your shoulder slightly and giving a startled apology. You turned your head to face her for but a second, jostled by the unexpected contact, and uttered a quiet, “It’s fine,” as she squeezed past you in the short, narrow hallway and back into all the hubbub of the bar.

When you turned back to train your eyes where Kaeya had just been, he was gone, as elusive as a ghost as he carefully slinked through the maze of people and disappeared.

You stepped into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, just standing there for what felt like forever until you were finally able to calm down enough to think.

Maybe it had been your imagination. Between all the late nights and stress and the alcohol, your brain could just be manifesting things to trick you.

You blinked hard, trying to rid the view of him from your thoughts.

He looked the same, but also different. You could’ve sworn he’d had something over one of his eyes. The Kaeya you remembered had periwinkle eyes— two of them— and had still looked a bit like a boy the last time you’d seen him. The person you’d just glimpsed was a man, his stature tall and lean and lithe, shoulders broad and arms strong.

Four years is a long time, a little voice in your head reminded you. You’ve changed a lot too.

Once you crept out from the bathroom, seeing the line having once again grown to stretch down the perimeter of the wall, you began to take a step back towards the direction of your friends but stopped mid-stride.

You couldn’t go back to them. Not like this, when you felt like you didn’t know up from down or left from right or fear from longing.

So, instead, you turned and headed towards the staircase, finding the second floor significantly less claustrophobic, and made your way to the balcony, which you were relieved to find empty.

You leaned against the railing, iron digging into your elbows as the steady breeze sent strands of your hair into your eyes. You hung your head, slumping further over the balcony, and let out a long, deep sigh.

It all seemed like a mistake— Kaeya and Diluc’s fight, Kaeya’s final letter to you, you going off to Liyue, Kaeya not reaching out, you not reaching out, you coming back to the one place you knew you’d secretly been avoiding, thinking about him nonstop, coming to this bar, seeing him here, running away— every last decision or event that had occurred in the last four years suddenly running through your head like a sped up film reel, the images making you dizzy, little bursts of stars spotting your vision when you tipped your head back up to the sky.

You felt the threat of oncoming tears as the memories kept flooding through you— the smiling, laughing face of an eight-year-old Kaeya, you trying to stifle your own giggles while Diluc looked more than displeased— the sparkling, periwinkle eyes of a twelve-year-old Kaeya as he lay next to you on the roof, pointing out shapes in the stars, finding his beloved peacock constellation and giving a smirk of satisfaction when you told him it suited him— the smooth, charming words of a fifteen-year-old Kaeya who leaned up against the wall as he looked at you, teasing that he was getting taller than you by the day, holding something just out of your reach as you jumped to try and grab it, scolding him to knock it off but laughing nonetheless— and, finally, an eighteen-year-old Kaeya, riding next to you through the woods, both of you urging your horses to gallop faster and faster as you raced between the trees, your shouts and taunts and laughter echoing across the land until he inevitably beat you and you broke out into the valley on the other side, already having rehearsed some excuse about how you would’ve won if only he hadn’t cheated or caught you off guard.

That might’ve been the last good memory you had of him— that afternoon with your horses, just passing time until the storm rolling overhead caught up with you— the last good memory you had before you were forced to imagine him distraught, just having lost his father for the second time. You envisioned him spilling over with fury as he and Diluc threw fists or crossed blades. You’d heard that’s when he’d gained his Vision, a sudden blast of cryo shooting an icy frost across the battlefield between him and his brother.

You could imagine the look and both their faces— Diluc shocked, maybe even a little fearful, eyes pleading not to let this go any further, while Kaeya was stunned, only to launch right back into battle as his ego breathed in the sweet drug of his newfound power, his talents recognized by the gods.

And when Diluc had told you the news, told you about Crepus’s death and Kaeya’s gift from the Archons and, with slamming that door in your face, greatly inferring that no more good memories would be born under the roof of the Ragnvindr home, that had been the last that you’d seen of him, too.

It was sort of funny.

With them, there had once been so many beautiful beginnings.

But now, all you could seem to grasp onto was the heartbreaking endings.

You felt your body tense as the balcony doors swung open and then closed, the quiet swoosh and click bringing a wave of annoyance over you. 

Was there nowhere you were allowed to be alone in this place? You ought to turn and give whoever had just walked out a glare sharp enough to send them staggering back a few steps, maybe reconsider where they sought out their own sliver of peace and quiet. But before you could so much as glance over your shoulder, the voice interrupted your agitation like a light cutting through the dark.

“Hey…” It was the first rays of dawn splitting through the velvety night on the horizon, chasing the stars away until the moon returned to reclaim the sky. “I thought that was you.”

Your heart was quicker to accept the truth than your brain was, your bones drawn instinctually towards that smooth, sly tone like a moth to a flame. You didn’t want to go, knew if you got too close your delicate wings would catch fire and you’d be reduced to death and ash, but alas, you drifted towards the light, blinded by your yearning to touch it, addicted.

“It’s been a while,” Kaeya greeted you with that charming smile, giving a hesitant wave. “How’ve ya been?”

You could only gawk at him for a while, eyes scanning his entire being as if speaking to the figure before you was some kind of trap, some kind of test, like if you didn’t make sure he was the real thing and lent your voice to his ears you’d be cast into the abyss forever.

And while he felt the same, what you’d thought before had been right. The Kaeya currently standing before you did indeed look different than you remembered.

His skin was still that same warm, honey brown shade, his hair still sleek and navy though worn much longer than you’d ever seen it before, a lock of it cascading over his shoulder and down to his waist. He was taller than you remembered, too, though you supposed he could’ve grown a bit between the age of eighteen and now. His face had lost the last of its boyish softness and in its place was the handsome, chiseled features of a confident young man. And those eyes— those sparkling periwinkle eyes you could’ve gotten lost in if he’d let you stare long enough— were no longer a set of two, but a single one, his right covered with a black eyepatch while the left seemed to gaze upon you apologetically, despite the unbothered, casual stature of his nonchalant stance leaning against the doors with his arms crossed over his chest, one ankle resting over the other.

Your mouth hung open with a million different words to say, the combinations of them endless, but all you could taste was the frantic beating of your heart in your throat, any of the excited reliefs or bitter resentments stirring together in your brain becoming indistinguishable.

Your face suddenly felt too warm, the summer’s refreshing evening atmosphere turning to a stifling humidity as your nerves made it harder to breathe. Your dizziness only increased as Kaeya’s ghost drifted closer, the revenant of your love striding slowly towards you while he continued to speak.

“How long have you been back in the city?” you thought you heard him say, but couldn’t be too sure as your ears were ringing, blood rushing at an alarming rate to your head, vision swaying as you gripped the iron railing of the balcony in a white-knuckled fist behind you. “I would’ve been at the gates to greet you, had I known. I mean, not that you wanted to see me, I just—”

“I’ve been studying in Liyue,” you cut in, only a slight tremble in your voice as you wore a look closer to anger than disbelief now. You cleared your throat, took a steadying breath, then continued, “I’m only back for the summer— for a research project— then I’ll be going back…”

A hint of sadness crossed Kaeya’s face, there and then gone like a cloud of breath fogging in the winter air, and then he grinned at you again, congratulating you on making it into such a prestigious school. “We always knew you were smart,” he remarked, clinking the nearly empty bottle in his hand with a half full one that had been left on the balcony railing, assuming it was yours, cheersing with a stranger’s abandoned drink. He leaned against the railing, his shoulder only inches from yours yet feeling like a world away. He winked and jokingly said, “By the way, next time you see Morax, tell him I said hello.”

Kaeya tipped the final swig of his drink back to his lips, downing the contents and only wincing a little as he swallowed, letting out a quiet exhale as he turned his attention back out to the city he’d continued to make a home out of— the very place you’d been desperate to escape yet now found yourself a willing prisoner in once more.

And the silence that fell over you both then was suffocating. You wanted to say something— anything— so that the final words shared between you two weren’t, “Next time you see Morax, tell him I said hello.”

This could truly be the last chance you got to interact with him. You wanted to take control while you still had a drop of it in your hands, so you dug up some rare bits of courage, cleared the last of the dread from your throat, and asked him, “Why didn’t you try to find me?”

When you and Kaeya met eyes again, both your stares were wide. To be fair, that hadn’t really been what you’d meant to ask. You’d intended to start out with something much less heavy and accusatory like, “So, what have you been up to?” or “I’ve heard you’ve risen up the ranks. What would the Knights of Favonius think if they knew what a little terror their Cavalry Captain had been growing up?”

Anything that brought the rose before the thorn, feeding him soothing honey before you offered up the bitter pill.

But it was too late. The words that had just left your mouth couldn’t be taken back, and the way Kaeya looked at you now made your next breath catch. Because you’d just ruined everything, hadn’t you? You’d been given one last chance and you’d wasted it. And it was all your fault, all your fault, all your fault.

Kaeya let out a small, sad puff of a laugh under his breath, his smirk struggling to stay steady on his lips, and the fear that he’d morph to hate you only grew in your chest, a hungry monster clawing to break free from your ribs, tear through your body, and devour its host mercilessly.

“I suppose I could ask you the same thing,” he responded with a half shrug, swishing his bangs away from his face, exposing more of the eyepatch he used to cover the evidence of some injury hidden underneath.

You felt a stab in your chest when you considered that he could’ve gotten it after his fight with Diluc, the image of the boys who’d basically been your brothers purposely hurting each other beyond repair breaking your heart.

Kaeya sighed then, flashing a sliver of a sly smirk before the expression turned back to being apologetic, concluding his prior statement with, “Though, I think I have a pretty good idea…”

You still couldn’t quite believe that he was standing before you, standing this close, so much the same yet so much so different all at once. You just wanted to look at him, stare at him until the deep emptiness you’d felt for the past four years filled up with the memories of what could’ve been and overflowed.

“You have a right to be mad at me, y’know…” Kaeya continued, hanging his head a bit and unable to look at you as his mouth curved up into a crooked, nervous smile. “If I were you, I’d be mad at me…”

You remembered the time you two were sixteen and had snuck out to the city at night. It was the first time you’d gone unsupervised and the light that glowed from the tavern windows was like a beacon to your first taste of true teenage freedom.

It had been Kaeya’s idea to check out the bar, of course, and even as you protested and told him you’d never get away with it, that he was too recognizable and you looked too young, you had a giddy grin spread across your face, lacing your arm to interlock with his as the two of you approached the humble little establishment.

“The place is packed,” Kaeya had tried to convince you as you both surveyed the crowd inside through the latticed windows. “We’ll just duck in, check it out, maybe find someone willing to buy us a drink, and then be home before anyone even knows we’re gone.”

Right before he’d reached out to open the door for you, you giggled and playfully pulled him back. When he gave you a confused glance you shook your head and said, “If we get caught and have to make a run for it, don’t expect me to wait for you.”

Kaeya’s smile was soft and serene for a moment, as if he found your every man for himself mentality endearing somehow, but then he cracked another one of those signature smirks. “Whatever you say,” he scoffed. “Just remember that I’m a faster runner than you are.”

In the end, you two had been able to convince someone to buy a drink for you— well, technically, they just ordered. Kaeya had bribed them with enough money for a pint for you, him, and an additional round for your willing participant and their small group of friends— and you’d even danced together among the cramped crowd when the band began to play an upbeat jig of a tune. The night had been mischievous, magical, and probably the most fun you’d had in a long time.

Until it wasn’t.

Because Kaeya got a little too tipsy, swearing he could handle a second round, a third, a fourth— swearing that he drank all the time and had the tolerance for it— and then started to get sloppy.

You couldn’t have been gone for more than two minutes, pushing your way to the bar counter to retrieve some water in hopes of remedying Kaeya’s spinning vision, but when you returned to where you’d left him on the edge of the dancefloor, you nearly dropped the full glasses and let them shatter all over the creaky, wooden floors.

Because, although his back was to you, you knew exactly what Kaeya was doing with the girl you’d noticed who’d been giving him doe-eyes all night. Her hand was twined through his silky hair, their lips too close to merely be talking, and when he put his hand on her hip to shift her slightly to the side, you saw head on just how deeply he’d been kissing her.

Back then, you’d been more than mad.

You’d been absolutely furious, blinded by your jealousy and longing and all those complicated, messy feelings you kept contained for the sake of ensuring things between you two were stable.

You’d slammed the glasses on the nearest table, water sloshing over the brims and nearly hitting the chatting patrons standing off to the side— who shot you scathing looks as they stepped away from the puddle that was forming as the liquid dripped off the edge of the furniture— wetting the floor by their feet. Then you’d stormed out, not caring if Kaeya followed you or spent all night trading saliva with some random stranger.

Or, at least, that’s what you’d tried to tell yourself.

Truth was, you’d started crying before the door of the tavern finished closing behind you and then you’d nearly collapsed in the next alley you came across, pressing your hand to your mouth as if that could contain all the sobs that were trying to barrel out, shakily steadying yourself against the cold brick wall and feeling like you were going to be sick.

Less than a minute later though, Kaeya caught up with you, having followed you out the moment he caught a glimpse of your silhouette rushing out the front doors, and immediately began trying to explain what had really happened through heavily slurred words and stumbling strides.

“I swear— She just came onto me! I told ‘er I was drunk— told ‘er I was with somebody but she wouldn’t listen—!” He’d stammered, all the while you stared him down like a wounded animal ready to strike if he got too close, all scrunch-nosed and sharp-glared, jaw clenched and breathing heavily.

You’d wanted to hit him. To scream that you loved him— you did— not some girl who didn’t even know his name or the types of sweets he snuck from the manor kitchen or his favorite shapes found among the stars. You wanted to go home. You wanted to curl up in bed beside him like you did when you were little and still scared of the dark. You wanted him. You wanted him to want you too.

“Just take me home!” You’d cut him off, marching past him out of the alley and back onto the main streets, the cobblestones feeling much more unsteady than you remembered them before.

So, yeah. Back then, you’d been mad. You’d gotten over it eventually, really heard him out and decided to accept his apology the following day when you both were sober and weighed down with the regret that bad decisions tended to leave behind.

But now, when Kaeya acted like four years of silence was worth the same as some one-off, instantaneous occurrence you’d gone through as immature teenagers…

You felt more hollow than anything, similar to the way tossing and turning through several sleepless, anxious nights left you with the sense that you were no longer a living, breathing girl but a ghost searching for the end of its own haunting, the world moving too fast around you as you drifted along and your thoughts rolled lazily through your mind, too exhausted to be bothered anymore.

“I was trying to give you space,” you admitted with a defeated sigh, draping yourself further over the railing to match his forlorn posture. “After everything that happened, I just thought…” 

It came back in quick flashes— Diluc’s scathing, scornful words upon delivering the news of his father’s death and how you’d choked on your tears and sorrow as you rode back home through the woods and the smudged peacock feather used to sign off Kaeya’s final letter to you…

Then you looked over at him and admitted, “I thought you’d come back when you were ready. But the more time that went by…”

Kaeya met your gaze. You still weren’t over the initial shock of the eyepatch. You might never be, if you even got another chance to see him. You looked away again. Holding his stare for too long was like staring into the sun. It left his image burned into your vision even when you closed your eyes and made you ask yourself why you’d taken the risk to steal a glance in the first place. “I dunno… I guess I just thought you wanted nothing to do with me anymore.”

His hand was laying itself over yours on the railing now, a hand you’d seen in nearly every stage of its development— the small, clumsy grasp of a six-year-old as he’d fumbled with little knick-knacks given to him by one of the servants so he wouldn’t have to fight with Diluc over toys— the mischievous fiddling of a curious ten-year-old trying to pick the lock of his father’s home office just to see what lay beyond the heavy wooden doors— the awkward, lanky fingers of a thirteen-year-old learning to grow into the first stages of his adolescent body, how he used to nervously fidget with the sapphire newly pierced through his left ear when he was telling you some story he hoped would impress you— the sure, swift strength of a seventeen-year-old who caught your wrist as you’d tripped over your own feet while walking through the woods, helping you back up and no longer attempting to hide how much he liked seeing you blush upon receiving even the simplest of touches from him.

Now, being in his early twenties, Kaeya’s hands were slender and a little scuffed, knuckles scratched from sparring matches among the Knights and a callus on his middle finger from writing one too many reports, sending messages between nations when the Acting Grand Master became too busy with her end of foreign relations and he had to pick up the slack.

But even so, they were beautiful— nails manicured and skin still soft enough to prove that, despite his title, Kaeya wasn’t in the habit of working too hard.

“There is nothing—” Kaeya began, voice stern and reassuring, “Nothing— that you could ever do that would make me want nothing to do with you.” You could read the guilt scribbled across his face, biting your tongue as you felt the threat of tears prinkling in the back of your nose, a lump forming in your throat that you tried to swallow. “It was never my intention to cut you off…”

Kaeya gave your hand a light squeeze, the small pressure enough to burst the dam sealed off behind your eyes, causing your vision to become blurred as four years worth of uncertainty and sadness sparkled on the rim of your gaze.

“Then why—” you croaked, voice cracking as the tears spilled over, clumping your bottom lashes together in watery spikes, pair after pair of sparkling sorrow racing down your cheeks to meet under your chin. Kaeya didn’t let go of your hand as you began to cry. He only held on a little tighter, lacing his fingers together with yours and making a stifled sob slip past your lips.

“I just thought that you’d be upset with me— that you’d blame me. I mean…” he tried to explain, gently wiping away your next round of tears with the pad of his thumb, tracing a soft line across the apple of your cheek. “You grew up with Diluc, too. I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position with having to pick a side but, well…” Kaeya cracked another one of those apologetic smiles and suddenly you became overwhelmed with the urge to bury your face in his chest, to just let him hold you until you felt whole again. “I guess it’s too late for that.”

You just couldn’t stop crying, the slow drip of a leaking faucet suddenly becoming a pipe burst beyond repair.

Because you’d spent the last four years worrying Kaeya hated you for nothing.

All that pain, all that blame, pent up and pushed down over and over and over again until the glass bottle was ready to crack and splinter and shatter into a million shards of glittering glass dust…

It all seemed to be remedied the moment Kaeya wrapped both his long, lean arms around you, pulling you into his chest and running a hand through your hair, combing his fingers through the tangles created by the summer wind and soothing you with a quiet, whispered coo of, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

You could barely get the words out as you nuzzled your face into his shoulder, shaking your head in miniscule motions as you muttered out a pathetic sounding, “S’ok… I never blamed you—” A hiccuped sob interrupted your forgiveness, but your tears were starting to slow, the deep well they’d collected in nearly running dry. “I don’t even think Diluc blamed you… Not for what happened to—”

“It’s ok,” Kaeya cut in, the blade of his voice sharper than before but dulling by the second, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “It’s ok. Even if he does, that’s not your fault.”

“I know, I just—” One last shuddering exhale before you collected yourself, making the foolish mistake to stare directly back up into the bright star of his one-eyed gaze, though this time you didn’t care if it blinded you. You wouldn’t look away. “I just wish things could’ve ended up differently… For all of us.”

All the times you and Kaeya had caught a shooting star arching across the night sky during one of your celestial rooftop escapades, how many times had you wished for things to stay just as they had been?

How many times had you wished the sun would never rise, that the night would stretch across Teyvat’s vast horizon for the rest of eternity so you and Kaeya could stay laying side by side, hands clasped between you while your free fingers pointed out all kinds of animals and imaginary heroes in the tangled constellations?

Not enough times, apparently. And now it was too late. You could barely even make out the peacock anymore, too many misty clouds drifting in to veil the moon. But there was one thing you knew for certain, and that was, even if you couldn’t go back and rewrite the events of your lives so that you’d never have to spend even a single day apart wondering where in the world the other could’ve gone, you would do anything to not lose Kaeya again. Even if it was just ink and parchment keeping you two connected across cities— across nations— you would take up the pen again and again until you received another eyespot feather in the vibrant teal or aquamarine or violet Kaeya liked to sign his letters with.

“I know…” Kaeya mumbled, resisting the urge to press a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. But then he was pulling back from you, just enough so you could see the flicker of appraising charm forcing itself over his features, and said with a hint of those sly undertones that usually spelled some mix of trouble and fun, “But, you know, while you’re here, I’m sure we have quite the bit of catching up to do. How long are you in Mondstadt, anyhow?”

You blinked away the remaining film of tears glossing over your eyes, gave a weak sniffle, and replied, “Till the end of summer…”

You could tell the grin Kaeya wore next was a real one, not just adopted in the moment for your sake, and after smoothing down your hair and using the edge of his glove to wipe away the last of the salt streaking your face, he said, “Well then… I guess we have a lot of lost time to make up for until then.”

†††

Standing by the fountain in the Mondstadt square, the hiss of flowing water and whistle of the summer breeze creating an intertwining melody over the cobblestone streets, you took your first deep breath in what felt like years.

Well, in some ways, it was. And even though you’d waited this long to reconcile with your childhood friend, it was funny how long a week could feel when you’d spent literal years waiting for something you thought might never come.

But, seeing Kaeya approaching you now, it almost made it feel like no time had passed at all.

Because he was giving you that charming, mischievous smile, tossing up a coin and catching it, the glint of shimmering gold flying higher and higher above his head with every new throw, and making your heart flutter with every step closer to you he took.

“I haven’t kept you waiting long, I hope?” Kaeya’s question lilted with melodic smoothness, stopping before you with the gold Mora coin pinched between his fingers.

You smiled, shook your head, and replied, “Not at all. Plus,” you winked, leaning in a little closer as if telling a secret, your past self returning to you for a moment, the way you’d often become absorbed in Kaeya’s own scheming behavior if you spent a little too much time around him, “if you would’ve kept me waiting, I still remember the way to all your favorite taverns.”

Kaeya looked surprised for a moment, then softened as a giggle bubbled past his lips, his shoulders shaking with mirth. “Well, in that case…” He held his arm out to you, his elbow bent so you could loop your arm with his, and as soon as you took the invitation, he began to walk with you. “I guess we should get going before I end up passed out drunk in an alley somewhere.”

And things seemed perfect as you two strolled along under a clear, sunny sky— almost too good to be true. And wasn’t it always when you were blinded by joy that the parasites of doubt began to gnaw at your insides? To burrow their way deeper into your heart and inject poison into your veins?

Because, even as Kaeya complained about working for the Knights and rambled on about the best new bakery in town, the smile that had sat so easy and natural on your face slowly began to become strained, forced.

Because this, too, would end.

This moment, right here, right now, with him…

It would all become a memory once you returned to Liyue, faded and frayed around the edges the more time you spent away.

“—But you’ll just have to wait to try it once we get there.”

You blinked back into reality, glancing up at Kaeya with minor confusion and asking, “What? Get where?”

Kaeya smirked, finding pleasure in keeping you at least a little in the dark, so long as the end result would make you smile. “Heh… Guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” he teased, giving your shoulder a soft nudge with his own.

“No fair…” you lightly protested, puffing out a weak chuckle. Then you said, “You really haven’t changed, y’know. You used to keep secrets from me all the time when we were kids…” Now it was your turn to nudge him, harder than he’d nudged you, and soon you found yourself wearing a devious expression as you remarked, “You’re such a bully!”

“Am not!” Kaeya defended, laughing as he knocked some more of his weight into you and nearly caused you both to topple over. “Besides, it’s not keeping secrets! It’s surprising you.” He stuck his nose up in the air, going from goofy to regal in two seconds flat, another habit of his you remembered from back in the day.

It used to drive you crazy, how easily he could recover from a fit of laughter or straighten his posture after scrambling away from one of his schemes— how you’d always be the one to give things away because you could never compose yourself on command like that— but now, you found it endearing. It was unexpectedly familiar. Comforting. It helped settle all the doubts swimming around inside of you for a bit, at least.

“Oh, c’mon!” You begged playfully, pouting and pulling on his arm. “Just tell me!”

“Seems you haven’t changed much either.” Kaeya lowered his voice to something a little more serious, some melancholy longing slipping through. When you gazed up at him that time, you saw the shift with your own two eyes, the way he looked so pained one second only to mask it with playfulness the next. He reached over and pinched your ear with his free hand and declared through a chuckle, “You never were the most patient!”

“Hey!” You scolded through a poorly concealed laugh, swatting him away. “That’s not fair when you were always telling me things like ‘you’ll see’!” You mocked the quote in a deeper voice, as if it sounded anything like the warm, smooth, honey-sweet tone of Kaeya’s vocals. “Admit it! You liked to torture me with the suspense!”

Then you were both laughing, stumbling down the streets with your arms still interlocked as you reflected on a few more fond memories from your childhoods together. You unearthed stories he’d nearly forgotten while Kaeya teased you about embarrassing moments you wished he would forget.

But then the mood began to wither, all the petals of your bright, blooming banter plucked from the flower of your childhoods one by one until all that was left was the thorny stem.

“I’m sorry…” you apologized, trying to swallow the uncomfortable lump forming in your throat. “For what happened— to your family and to you. I’m just… I’m sorry. I should’ve—”

“Don’t—” Kaeya cut in, his voice quiet. Fragile. Like a star made of blown glass. Yet still his words contained the power to draw blood if the shattered shards were touched. His throat bobbed with a particularly hard swallow— he wanted to spare you his tears— and after clearing his throat, he concluded with, “It’s fine.”

“But I—”

“It’s not your fault!” Kaeya snapped, raising his voice over yours, then immediately kicked himself, sighing out a frustrated exhale before remedying his outburst with a kinder, “It’s not your fault, ok? It’s just…” He hesitated, searching for the right words to say. Then he shrugged, grasping your hand and giving it a slight squeeze. “It’s just the way things turned out.”

You realized then, as Kaeya forced himself to give you a smile, how you must look when you tried to fake the same emotions to him.

No matter how hard either of you tried to hide your feelings, to keep secrets, to lie…

The other would always know.

It was a part of your relationship that had never had its sharp edge dulled, never lost the saturation of its vivid color.

It was a side effect of being connected by the stars, the irony that the celestial plane had placed upon two soulmates.

So, if you couldn’t lie, the next best thing was to create a new truth.

You squeezed Kaeya’s hand back, gave him a crooked grin, and said, “Maybe we’ve both been holding onto the past… Maybe, even just for today, we should focus on the present.”

The curl of Kaeya’s palm around yours felt like coming home. Because, though Kaeya’s hands had changed from the last time you’d touched them— gotten bigger, stronger, colder— they still held onto you like you were something he wanted to protect.

“C’mon…” Kaeya nodded towards a nearby alley, the vaguely familiar crookedness of it sending a flash of a spontaneous escape route while trying to evade your chaperone through your memory. “For old times’ sake… Plus…” You started down the narrow alley with him, the sounds of both your laughter and shouts echoing through your brain like the ghosts you’d almost forgotten as your feet tapped over the cracked cobblestones. “This is the shortcut to the scenic route.”

†††

The romantic little row boat rocked upon gentle waves at the end of the dock, waiting for you and Kaeya to board it and drift out to one of the private islands in the middle of Cider Lake.

There was a picnic waiting for you there when you arrived and he’d packed all of your old favorites along with some new treats from that bakery he’d been trying to tell you about earlier. You could tell how much care he’d put into preparing it and found yourself a little taken aback considering this was your first real time together since reconnecting.

You know, aside from when you sobbed into his shoulder on the balcony of the Angel’s Share.

So, as you two enjoyed lunch together, talking and laughing and catching up, you did, for once, allow yourself to enjoy the present.

However, as the sun arched across the sky and the first golds and lilacs of sunset began to blush the horizon, the energy started to shift. Not necessarily in a bad way, but more so in a bittersweet way. Because you two could’ve shared so many more smiles, stories, touches, and tender gazes if only you hadn’t been separated by time.

If only, if only, if only, if only…

If only you’d allowed yourself to fall for him sooner.

If only you’d been brave enough to tell him how you’d really felt.

If only he would’ve told you how he really felt.

If only one of you would’ve reached out during all that time.

If only.

“What…?” you asked in a dream-like daze, laying out on your stomach across from Kaeya on the picnic blanket and gazing into his periwinkle eyes— well, the one that was left visible to you, at least.

You were still getting used to that, but the more you looked at him, the more you thought the eyepatch suited him. You could already imagine all the outrageous stories he’d made up when people asked him why he wore it or what was underneath. It made another tired giggle hum in your chest.

“Nothing…” Kaeya stalled, caught in the same dreamy state as you, his eye tracing all the features of your face. Unlike him, you still looked the same. Just a little bit older, a little more tired on account of all the late nights this current research project was demanding from you, your hair a little different, but your eyes and your smile…

To him, those would always be just like he remembered.

“It’s something…” Your voice was nearly a whisper, only speaking loud enough to be heard over the breeze, your feet kicking lazily behind you, Kaeya’s face only inches from yours. You outstretched one arm, lowered your head to rest your cheek on your shoulder, and stared up at him through your lashes. “You can’t lie to me…” You reminded him with a sated smile. “I always know.”

Kaeya let out a breathy chuckle, mimicking your relaxed posture and allowing himself to sink closer to the earth, the plush grass underneath felt through the blue and white checkered picnic blanket. He placed his hand on top of yours, gently rubbing his thumb along your soft skin, his voice growing even quieter, as if admitting what he was about to say next too loudly would wake him from the serene dream he was starting to believe this was.

He said, “It’s a secret,” which only made you roll your eyes and let out a cynical sigh, pushing off from the ground to sit back up, Kaeya following suit.

“Fine then,” you teased, nose up in the air as you shot him a playfully devious side glance, trying to hide a smile. “Don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out on my own sooner or later.”

Kaeya chuckled. “Oh, you will, will you?”

“Of course I will,” you continued, now absentmindedly playing with a stray thread on the hem of one of the quilted stitches. “And even if I don’t, you’ll tell me eventually. You can’t stand to be the only one in on something.”

Kaeya let out a hearty laugh, one that made you wish you could spend every day like this, with him, skirting on the edge of arguments and making harmless jokes and pulling on each other’s strings in just the right ways.

Just the way you used to.

Just the way you used to…

“Well which is it?” Kaeya continued to tease. “Do you want to figure it out on your own or do you want me to tell you?”

You picked up one of the lingering blueberries left in the basket and tossed it at him. “I want you to tell me.” You grinned as Kaeya caught it, tossing it back at you only for it to bounce away into the grass somewhere.

“Alright then,” Kaeya finally yielded with a resolute nod. “But you’ll have to come closer. It is a secret, after all.”

You scooted closer, leaning in with one ear as if you really expected him to whisper it to you. But then, after his silence stretched on for one moment too long, you looked back to him, your faces closer than they’d been since you two had snuggled up in his bed on a stormy night as children.

You felt your breath catch, unable to tear your stare away from his eye as if all the secrets of the universe were contained within that small pool of periwinkle, and as Kaeya’s hand reached forward to gently cup your cheek, weaving his fingers into your hair, you closed your eyes.

How long had you waited for this? Wanted this? Dreamt of it?

How many nights had you mourned a kiss that would never come as you stared over all the glittering lights that shimmered along every path in Liyue, wondering if you’d ever come close to feeling the way you’d felt about Kaeya with anyone else?

As his lips touched yours, everything else faded away— all the fear and the doubt and the past and the future.

There was only right here, right now, as if this single moment was all you’d ever lived in, all you’d ever known.

And Kaeya was so tender with you, so gentle and caring. Considering how long he’d also been waiting for this, wanting it, dreaming of it, it was a miracle he hadn’t ruined the moment and kissed you the very second you two stepped off the boat and onto the grassy shore, not stopping until it got so late that someone else sailed out searching for the missing Cavalry Captain.

The moment he broke away, the eternal bliss that had just filled you was stolen quicker than a wave pulling back from the shore, and you wove your fingers through his hair, using that as an anchor to keep you two close, tugging him in a little to press your forehead against his, any kind of contact that would make you feel like that wasn’t the first and the last, a silent pleading to hold on and never let go.

“Sorry…” Kaeya nervously whispered through a crooked smile, his eyes closed and careful hand moving to rest on the back of your neck, not wanting to let go either.

In return, you whispered, “Sorry for what?”

Kaeya let out a shuddering sigh, reluctantly pulled away a few inches so he could look you in the eyes. He searched your face for something— some kind of anger or sorrow or hesitation— anything to make the fact that you couldn’t stay easier on him.

But all he could scavenge from your loving, gentle expression was that none of this was ever meant to be easy. Because easy things were fleeting.

It was the hard things— the things you fought for— that ended up sticking around the longest.

It was the things you decided to grab and hold onto even through the thrashing and the clawing and whatever other odds that tried to cause you to give up and let go that you could truly call your own.

So he kissed you again, this time with a little more urgency, a little more passion, as if that was the only response that could accurately express whatever answer he could’ve spoken with words.

He was right when he’d said you two had a lot of lost time to make up for.

This seemed like a good place to start.

†††

Over the coming weeks, the city of Mondstadt had never seemed so small to you before in your entire life.

The once uncharted and mysterious alleys that winded between the buildings were now secret passageways and shortcuts to you. The rising levels of brick and stone that loomed and casted shadows big enough to swallow you whole were now a view of Kaeya’s office from the headquarters of the Knights or the windows of some foreign leader’s favorite hotel suite.

Because, despite the fact the city still may have looked the same on the surface, much had changed in the years you’d been away. Kaeya thought he ought to catch you up, maybe make a guessing game out of it while he was at it too.

“Let’s see…” you pondered, gazing up at some luxury apartment in the distance he’d pointed out to you. “It has a pretty good view, so it must be expensive, aside from its upper level location…” You’d already guessed the vacation homes of Fontaine politicians and Snezhnayan royals, Inazuma CEOs and wealthy Liyue traders. Kaeya had made you guess the residency of someone prominent from nearly every nation in Teyvat at one point or another with the exception of one you should’ve found most obvious in this case. “Wait, don’t tell me… It’s someone from Mondstadt, isn’t it?”

Kaeya gave a smile and a nod, keeping his lips sealed though seeming to struggle the more and more he could sense your wheels turning.

“It’s someone you know personally, isn’t it?” you asked next.

To that, Kaeya gave a conflicted shrug and replied, “I suppose you could say that, yes.”

“It’s the Grand Master of the Knights then— Or maybe the Acting Grand Master?” The two of you continued your lazy stroll through the streets, your hands clasped and on your way to a lunch reservation, which you were going to be late for if this particular game dragged on for much longer.

“Hmm… Close,” Kaeya hinted, and you perked up for a second. Then he said, “But not quite,” and you deflated back into a silent, pouting frustration.

“I give up then,” you resigned, trying to bait him into telling you.

Kaeya gave you a nudge. “No, c’mon, you know it.”

“Archons know what kinds of company you’ve kept over these past four years,” you sarcastically teased. “How am I supposed to guess when I haven’t even met a single one of your friends?”

Kaeya chuckled, amused, only becoming even more so when you frowned and asked him what was so funny. “You know him,” he hinted. That earned him a look caught between confusion and annoyance. “Just think,” he tried to encourage. “If it’s someone that you know, who I also— technically— know, and they’re from this nation…” The pride that settled over his features the moment he saw your eyes light up with the answer was enough to tell you you were right before you even said it.

“No—!” You exclaimed in hushed disbelief, staring at him wide-eyed as if waiting for him to admit he was just messing with you. You glanced from him back to the gilded ivory of the luxury complex then back to him. “So you mean this entire time you were hiding out in some high-rise palace?!” You let out a scoff of incredulous laughter, feeling both slighted and relieved. “And to think,” you added with a certain air of forced pretentiousness as you eyed him slyly, “all these years I was worried you were shivering in a shack somewhere.”

Kaeya let out another burst of laughter and a dramatic response of, “I shiver just imagining living in a shack. You think I would’ve ever allowed myself to end up in such a place?”

The remaining way to the restaurant and throughout the entire afternoon meal as well, the two of you traded more banter and flirtatious glances.

You’d found yourself becoming more comfortable with being on the receiving end of Kaeya’s playful quips or the naughty suggestions he’d whisper in your ear when you two found yourselves nestled within a crowd, always taking pleasure in how flustered you’d become while he remained cool and calm in that easy, calculated way of his, the only evidence of his comment being that sly smirk spread across his lips.

Kaeya was determined to make the most of his time with you— he hadn’t gone to the trouble of rearranging his entire work schedule to match your research hours for nothing. So, at every given chance he would take you out. He’d plan a special surprise. Sometimes, you two would just spend the entire day talking, hours passing like minutes. If you weren’t submerged in research, you were out on the town with what Fenhua and Haoyu had started referring to as your “mysterious suitor”.

As soon as the sky grew dark with the lilacs and violets of night, Kaeya would walk you back home to the quaint little living space you shared with your other two classmates, kissing you on the hand and wishing you a good night and the sweetest of dreams whilst Haoyu and Fenhua watched from the window (less than subtly, you’d noticed on more occasions than not) and began to conjure up a new round of questions and curiosities about who the handsome, one-eyed gentleman really was to you.

Not to mention, how you’d had any time whatsoever to begin a courtship amidst the busy work schedule this research project was trapping you all in.

“So who is he?” Haoyu asked first, unable to contain his nosiness, however harmless it usually was.

“Yeah, and where’d you two meet?” Fenhua would jump in, both of them trailing along behind you as you attempted to retreat to your room to unload your things and take a breather.

“Is he a Knight? I heard you should watch out around those guys,” Haoyu warned. “They get bored with the girls from their own city and latch onto any new face they meet.”

“Oh, but he’s so dreamy, isn’t he?” Fenhua sighed, throwing herself to lay across the end of your bed while you kicked off your shoes and tried to suppress an amused smile. “And don’t listen to Haoyu. I mean, sure, maybe some of the Knights who are on the prowl are a little promiscuous, but if you end up changing your mind about the one you managed to lure in…” She gave you a cheeky wink accompanied by a sly smirk. “Feel free to send him my way.”

Haoyu sat on the other side of Fenhua, rolling his eyes at her and handing you the glass of water you’d left out that morning as you went to reach for it, continuing as you took a sip, “I mean, I’m not trying to sound like I’m—”

“What? Jealous?” Fenhua cut in with a giggle, earning her a sharp nudge in the shoulder from Haoyu.

“What I was trying to say—” Haoyu began again, shaking his head and smirking at his mischievous friend before looking back to you, “—is that I’m not trying to sound like I don’t trust your judgment. It’s just, well… You’ve always been like a little sister to us. We’re protective over you. And you’re so shy most of the time, especially around new people…” Fenhua sat up, taking a slightly more serious stance alongside Haoyu now, nodding along as he spoke. “I’m just wondering why you’ve caught his attention— I mean,” he anxiously remedied, “Ok, that sounded bad. I’m just worried that guy has ulterior motives, know what I mean?”

You set the now empty glass on the bedside table, looking to both your friends with a sense of gratitude, but also a slight twinge of guilt. “Guys,” you began, “I appreciate you always looking out for me, but I didn’t just meet Kaeya.” You paused for a moment, trying to decipher the puzzled looks exchanged between both your friends. “We knew each other when we were kids,” you then clarified, both Haoyu and Fenhua giving a synchronized “oooohh…” of understanding.

You filled them in, explained how you grew up together, pretty much all the way until you were eighteen, but lost touch right before you left to attend university in Liyue.

“We haven’t seen each other in a long time so…” you shrugged, your bashful smile giving you away. “We’ve just been catching up.”

And so came more questions from the two of them, naturally, but as you answered this time— in the moments they both stopped trying to speak over each other and actually lent you a small space of silence to try and address one of their many inquiries— you found yourself being careful about which truths you divulged to them and which ones you wanted to keep for yourself.

Because while the memories of your childhood might’ve been up for grabs when it came to what you were willing to expose, the more intimate details of the recent developments of you and Kaeya’s relationship were under lock and key.

Almost all of your alone time— and, if you were being honest, most of the time meant to be dedicated to your research— was spent thinking about him if you weren’t seeing him. It was spent replaying all the times over these past weeks that Kaeya had held your hand, put his arm around you, pulled you in close, held your face in his palms as you gazed up at him lovingly, kissed you…

Even things that hadn’t yet happened, but you’d very much like to try, if the occasion so arised.

“But you guys have gotta be more than friends, right?” Fenhua pushed, giving you a half-lidded look as if to say, give it up. “I mean, I’ve seen you two walking arm in arm when he drops you off. The guy has kissed your hand—!” She was gesturing wildly now, nearly hitting Haoyu in the face a few times and making him flinch. “We may not be from this city but you can’t tell me that all Mondstadter’s express friendship like that, I mean…”

You admitted that, growing up, Kaeya would harmlessly flirt with you all the time. When asked what you’d do in response, you simply said you’d just scoff and brush him off, tell him to stop teasing, which wasn’t a complete lie. The fact that you were leaving out how you wished he’d just be direct and stop keeping you guessing all the time so you could finally know if you two were more than just friends didn’t make what you’d told them any less true.

“Ok, but did you ever consider,” Haoyu raised, “that maybe he was doing all of that back then because he actually did like you?”

Yes, you thought to yourself, a million times, yes.

But, even now, that made the distance you’d just finally gotten a chance to close all the more painful.

If Kaeya had had feelings for you— those kinds of feelings— all along…

How could he have let you go like that?

“Well of course he liked her,” Fenhua stated like it was the most obvious fact in the world. She threw her arm around you, pulling you in for a side hug and saying with a warm smile, “What’s not to like?”

And so the three of you sat around on your bed talking and teasing each other for much later than any of you had intended, given you had an early start to tomorrow’s work. But for as much as you’d smiled and giggled at all their speculations, by the time you were alone in your bed again, all of that doubt started creeping back in.

Because your time was ticking down every single week, every single day, and soon, every single hour before you had to leave this little bubble of bliss you’d accidentally discovered and return to Liyue.

You couldn’t just skip out on your final year of university to chase some guy, even if that guy was Kaeya Alberich— not when you’d worked so hard to get this far.

And so a war began to rage inside your mind, a constant push and pull of leave, stay, leave, stay, leave, stay colliding every time you tried to focus on your work only to be distracted with intrusive thoughts like how many more times would you and Kaeya get to kiss before you couldn’t anymore?

How many more times would you get to hold his hand, liking the way his cool palms helped stave off the season’s heat as you strolled through the square?

How many more times would you have the chance to memorize the exact shade of periwinkle that glittered in his eyes?

How much sooner and how much longer could you have been able to learn and appreciate these kinds of experiences with him if only things had turned out different?

The dread and regret could eat you alive, if you let it, but eventually, after much tossing and turning, you’d fall asleep. 

Some nights, you’d have pleasant dreams, others, vicious nightmares. But by the time you woke up, you’d only be left with one thought, one feeling.

And that was that you didn’t want to leave Kaeya— not for another year or another month or another day. But this version of reality you were currently living couldn’t last forever. You both had your own paths, your own lives and goals and dreams.

It was unfair to choose. Cruel to choose.

It was a painful reminder that to love was to suffer, one way or another.

At least, you thought, this time you wouldn’t be suffering alone.

†††

With summer on its deathbed, so was the stress of completing your research in Mondstadt.

You were relieved to have finished on time, to have all those early mornings, hectic afternoons, and sleepless nights behind you. But that relief was merely the honey that came before the bitter pill you knew you’d have to force yourself to swallow.

Kaeya was better at masking it than you were, all his playful remarks and charming smiles working overtime to put you at ease and brighten your spirits. But, behind that disguise was a sense of loneliness.

Your grins were lonely too, every upturn of the corners of your mouth hosting a silent apology for something that wasn’t really anyone’s fault. Time was running out, Kaeya knew. He could hear it woven into your words and embroidered around the edges of your laughter. But despite the summer coming to an end, he was determined to make every day that you two had left together count.

He’d spent the last few weeks planning a most special surprise for the both of you to share.

“So you really aren’t gonna tell me this time…” you kept on pressing as you leaned closer into Kaeya’s side, both of you strolling along with your arms linked under a sunset sky. “Are you?” Velvety lilacs bled into the sky more and more with every hill you climbed, chasing away the soft blues and pale golds of daylight’s final moments.

Kaeya chuckled, shook his head, and replied, “Nope. You’re just gonna have to wait and see.”

The two of you had left the city, the walls that still held the ghosts of so many childhood memories growing smaller in the distance every time you peaked behind you. 

“Well, can you at least tell me if we’re almost there?” you asked a little while later, part of you starting to wonder if he was playing a trick on you.

“Hmm… I could…” Kaeya teased, pretending to weigh his options. Then he flashed you a mischievous grin and said, “But I think it’s more fun to watch you squirm.” That earned him a jab in his ribs from your elbow, but your playful, otherwise painless assault only won you another chuckle from him. “Alright, alright,” Kaeya caved, slipping his arm around your waist and tugging you closer to his side. “We’re almost there.” He kissed the top of your head, his mischief softening to something a little more demure. “I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”

The remaining trek didn’t last long, thankfully for your giddy impatience, and as you reached the top of the final slope and took in the view, you sucked in a gasp.

“Kaeya!” you exclaimed, covering your mouth as if that would muffle your awe and excitement. “Don’t tell me— Is this really for us?”

Kaeya stood next to you, hands on his hips, looking rather pleased with himself as he surveyed the private campsite he’d set up for the two of you, a large tent with an open roof to view the stars placed across from a crackling bonfire, a case full of cold drinks and food you two could cook together doubling as a makeshift bench for the time being.

Kaeya pretended to scan the horizon, sweeping his gaze from one side of the cliff to the next as he shielded his eye from a sun no longer present. “Well, considering there’s no one else here…” he shrugged, sneaking you a wink and a playful side glance. Then, pulling you back in close to whisper in your ear he said, “Think you can still find our favorite constellation?”

And you were so happy in that moment that the reminder of your dwindling time left together was temporarily forgotten. You felt almost like you could cry, though this time for completely different reasons.

You were just taking everything in— the sight of the fire glowing through the dusk and the sound of nature’s ambient buzz and the feeling of longing, once starved, now being fed for the first time in years, swelling in your chest— so you didn’t even notice how long you’d remained silent, awe-struck, until you heard the nervous tremble in Kaeya’s next words.

“I mean, I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay the whole night here if you’re not comfortable…” he gently backpedaled, though where his hand rested on your hip didn’t waver. “I don’t want to assume—”

“Kaeya…” you cut him off, wanting to sound as sure about your answer as you felt, but the emotions flooding you made the end of his name quiver.

You cleared your throat, turned to better face him, and looked into his periwinkle eye, studied how it glittered so brilliantly even in the dark, like he held a galaxy within him, celestial and divine. Then you cupped his face in your hands, his skin cool against your summer-warmed palms, and said, “I have spent years waiting— hoping— for something like this. So please…”

Kaeya’s simmering apprehension turned to the still waters of relief as a fresh smile was cast upon you, offering you his hand the way he’d done so many times before, only this time, you knew the intention held much more weight than helping you up after a picnic in the glade or lending assistance dismounting a horse. He said, “Then, shall we?” and the yes that left your mouth held all the adoration that had been hibernating in your heart during those long, lonely years.

†††

As you and Kaeya sat huddled beside each other after the barbeque, nearly dozing off with bellies full and cravings for all your childhood favorites satisfied, a serene silence filled the place where laughter and conversation had previously been. You stared into the fire, once dancing, now dying, and swore you kept catching glimpses of memories long forgotten forming in the flames.

It made you miss Diluc too, in a strange way, wishing he could’ve been here to recount adolescent mischief and humorous anecdotes that were sure to cause him and Kaeya to bicker. But what had happened between the brothers was still a wound you didn’t dare dress. You doubted the bandage of your comfort was enough to heal such an injury, especially one that was likely already long scarred over, irreparable.

“Ah— Found it,” Kaeya finally spoke, breaking you from your bittersweet pondering. When you followed the line of his pointing finger, your gaze landed on that glittering group of familiar stars. As Kaeya leaned back to lay across the blanket beneath you two, he clasped his hands behind his neck and said through a dreamy sigh, “It’s been a while, old friend…”

After a moment, you lay back to join him. But that’s when the pang of regret and guilt you’d been trying so hard to avoid returned to poke its pointed edge in through your ribs, aiming for your fragile heart.

In a voice strained with tears soon to come, you said, “I have to go back to Liyue in less than a week…” To this, Kaeya merely turned his head to better look at you, that slight crinkle of elegant worry tugging at his brow. You blew out a deep, shuddering breath, hoping to compose yourself. “I just wish—” You swallowed, squeezed your eyes shut, then tried again. “I just wish we had more time.”

You couldn’t look at him. As much as you could feel his gaze studying you, as much as you wanted to glance over and learn those twitches in his expression, read his face over and over again like it was your favorite book, pages dog-eared and passages underlined and annotated with meticulous care, you couldn’t.

The moment you caught your reflection in all that shimmering periwinkle would be the last drop to burst the dam.

But Kaeya had never been much for flowing water. His area of expertise was freezing it, preserving it with frosted, crystalline beauty until such a time came when the heat of a flame or the shift to a warmer season caused his ice sculpture of love to melt.

“Hey, hey…” he cooed, flipping to his side, readying himself to comfort you. “This doesn’t have to be the end.” But you both knew it was more complicated than that. You both had obligations and responsibilities that would keep you apart, people who counted on you who you couldn’t abandon.

It seemed both of you had made a habit of abandoning yourselves, sacrificing what your hearts told you to be sacred and true all for the sake of opportunity or status.

“I’ll wait for you, y’know?” When he first said it, you could’ve sworn you hadn’t heard him right. Blinking back your misting sorrows, you choked out an uncertain, “What?” and when the boy you’d loved for so long, now a man who loved you right back, repeated the first four words of the loyal vow, well…

You didn’t have the strength to hold back your emotions anymore.

But Kaeya was smiling as he wiped your tears. He offered to help you find a position in Mondstadt once you graduated, if that was something you wanted. With his connections through the Knights, after all, he should be capable of pulling a few strings.

It was sort of overwhelming, hearing him ramble off his plans— plans that sounded like he’d already put quite some thought into them, actually— to make this work between you two. You weren’t giving a clear indication to whether or not you were on board with his efforts, but truth be told you were still recovering from being blindsided by his promise.

I’ll wait for you.

How long had he already been waiting?

The way he spoke now, so hopelessly sure of himself, made it seem like just as long as you had. When you finally forced yourself to meet his eyes, you thought it might’ve been even longer.

“Please—” Kaeya practically begged, taking both your hands in his, clasping them between the two of you as if they were a sacrosanct talisman he was praying upon, gracing the very Archons themselves. “I’ve already lost you once. Don’t make me lose you again…”

He’d been just as terrified as you back then, racing through the pouring rain on horseback, blood painting the right side of his face where his eye was matted shut with rusted red, hands numb with the newfound cold that laced its way through his bones— yet as he dashed from the scene, leaving the news of his second father’s death and the remnants of the battle against his brother behind him, what he thought of wasn’t the loss of the only family he’d probably ever be able to recall…

He thought of losing you.

He thought of the scared, sorrowful look you’d give him if you ever came to learn the full truth of that night, and it had torn him apart with every gallop his steed took further into the piney tangle of the woods.

So, finally able to utter a response, no matter how simple, you whispered, “Ok.”

“Ok?” he muttered, tasting the answer with his own tongue and then reveling in the sweetness of it. Pressing his forehead to yours, letting his eye fall shut and feeling his heartbeat drum a little less frantic, he whispered those two magic syllables once more, as if finally granting himself the right to reclaim something from his past that wasn’t marred by mystery or mourning, “Ok…”

Suddenly you felt a giggle bubbling up in your chest, finding it ironic that you now felt the need to comfort him. “You could always find a way to take a business trip to Liyue sometime, too,” you suggested. “But, to answer your previous question. Yes, I would most definitely accept a position in Mondstadt after graduation if given the chance.”

Lightly nudging his nose to yours, Kaeya was able to smile again. Because, so long as the two of you were together, everything would turn out ok. You’d figure it out, lean on each other when things got tough, and whether you were together or apart, you’d forever be linked by the night.

“Just look for the peacock in the sky,” he muttered, his mouth hovering right over yours, the gentle fan of his cool breath melting you from the inside out. “Remember that it’s me looking after you…”

†††

The tent was bigger on the inside than it appeared. Spacious, with an abundance of blankets and pillows and room to nest. The ceiling opened to let the stars in, so many twinkling lights serving as a reminder of just how many times you and Kaeya must’ve looked up at the same exact constellations and had all those fond childhood memories come rushing back.

That, in itself, was its own kind of unbreakable bond.

And he was right. No matter how far the distance between you two spanned, you felt closer to him knowing the peacock was glittering somewhere above your head.

You two were just settling in, getting comfortable when you had the sudden urge to seek him out for another kiss. You’d never grow tired of the way his lips felt against yours, the way he tasted of crisp winter air and dandelion wine. The way his long fingers wove into your hair, so tender yet so desperate to hold you and never let go.

Kaeya deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing along the seam of your lips until they parted for him to give a sample of your flavor, something subtly sweet but no less satisfying. Before you knew it— not even having the chance to think about it— you were being pulled into his lap, your thighs straddling his hips as both your motions became more erratic, any and all savoring smoothness slowly saturating to the vibrant colors of desire, your stomach fluttering with that warm, rolling feeling as yearning turned lazily inside of you.

Your fingers had found their way into the river of his silky, navy strands, reminded how shiny and soft Kaeya’s hair had always been, the envy of everyone, just like most traits he’d been blessed by the Archons with.

It was quickly becoming clear that both of you wanted more of each other— far more than you’d gotten thus far— but before things could go too far too fast, Kaeya pulled back, giving you both a moment to catch your breath before asking if you’d done this before.

Suddenly more abashed by his question than the act you’d fully been ready to engage in, you said that you had, but only once. It had been when you’d first started university. It hadn’t been a particularly notable experience, but also not a horrible one either.

“I imagined it was you…” you admitted, unable to hold his gaze as you confessed something you now had regrets about. If you would’ve known you’d end up here, you would’ve saved the first time for him.

“C’mon now,” Kaeya began, letting out a breathy chuckle as he lightly hooked a finger under your chin, guiding your gaze back up to meet his. “Don’t say that.” You were about to interject, unsure whether the words that would leave your mouth would be assurance that you were telling the truth or a scolding for him not to tease you, but before you could say anything he continued with a sly, flirtatious whisper of, “Besides, if he didn’t leave much of an impression, he could never compare to me…”

You felt your face burn with shame and annoyance, flashing an adorably stunned scowl, mouth agape with a silent gasp which only made Kaeya laugh. Once he regained some of his composure though, he faded back into that soft, intimate security you never get tired of, resting his hands on your hips and assuring you in earnest that he was going to take good care of you. That you had nothing to worry about with him. That you were safe. You were loved.

“I got you…” he cooed as he helped you undress, every article of clothing he rid your body of removed with slow, savoring intention, his gaze tracking the newly exposed flesh with reverence, worshiping your figure with his single-eyed stare.

And you watched Kaeya undress too, enamored with all that beautiful brown skin, the glow of the moon outlining him in its silvery light, tracing over the toned expanse of his chest and broad shoulders, counting the new scars he’d earned over the years but finding they did nothing to take away from his regal beauty.

“Your eyepatch…” you then muttered as he drew closer to settle his skin against yours. “Are you going to…?”

Kaeya then seemed to become a little self conscious, as if he’d forgotten about it entirely until you’d spoken of its existence. His fingers hovered over the black material hiding his right eye, frozen in the decision to show you what was hidden underneath or not.

“No, y’know what…” you assured him, taking his hesitant hand in yours. “It’s ok. I don’t care about that. If it’s a secret you want to keep for yourself,” you said, “I’ll respect that.”

Kaeya looked like he wanted to tell you something— maybe he wanted to tell you everything— but then decided against it. Perhaps another time. Surely when you were both fully clothed and not so distracted by each other’s bodies the way you were now.

And then you were laying under him, and he was kissing you again in that way that made any and all thoughts that weren’t concerning right here and right now dissipate, and his hands felt cold like they usually did but his mouth was so much hotter than before. Goosebumps rose over your skin as his skilled touch explored the soft curves and planes of your form, both eager and patient at the same time, searching for the places that you responded to most and paying them more attention until you were gifting him soft whines and lilting mewls, gasps hitching as his mouth sucked his own pattern of constellations into your skin.

It was almost too much for you and all he’d done was kiss and touch you. It was enough to convince you that, like Kaeya had previously said, whether just a joke meant to fluster you or not, when you’d been imagining the boy who’d taken your virginity had been Kaeya back then, he hadn’t even come close.

This felt like worship.

Heavenly.

Divine.

For a moment, it made you think perhaps Kaeya was an Archon disguised as a human. His natural beauty was enough to rival the gods, a fact that presented itself at an early age, and his bountiful talents for combat and charming conversation were even more evident of such an assumption.

But for Kaeya, he saw you as the otherworldly deity, captivated most by the things only he got to know about you, like the way you sighed his name when he kissed your neck and the way your fingers felt tugging in his hair as he laved over the sensitive bud of your breast, feeling it furl even tighter in his mouth and earning another pleasured whine from your throat.

You felt yourself nearing an edge you hadn’t faced in a long time, and for a moment you tried to push him away, needing a moment to regain even a sliver of yourself before truly allowing it all to let go.

Kaeya prayed that you didn’t want to stop, but was also willing to do whatever it took to make you comfortable in this new, still so unexplored situation. He told you that if you needed to wait, he’d wait as long as it took. He’d already spent years waiting for this, and if it meant getting to have you of your own volition, there was no span of time he wasn’t willing to endure.

“No…” you breathed, cradling his face in your trembling palms, making sure he didn’t take his periwinkle gaze off you. “No, I want to keep going… I just…” You closed your eyes for a moment, swallowed down the fear, remembering his promise to take care of you. “I want to keep going.”

So Kaeya prepared you the best he could, slowly working you open with his fingers and paying close attention to how your body reacted to that slight stretch, letting out a hiss as he felt you clench around him before he was even really inside yet. He couldn’t believe this moment— one he’d spent countless nights falling asleep to or kept wide awake by for years— was actually happening.

By the time he was lining himself up with your entrance, your pulsing little hole already trying to swallow up his length before he’d barely nudged the tip in, Kaeya was sure he was experiencing pure ecstasy. It was hard not to sink into you down to the hilt in one harsh thrust, but he’d made you a promise and he intended to keep it.

After you’d adjusted to the sweet sting of him nestled inside of you, both of you taking time to catch your breath and relax a little, Kaeya began to move, holding you close as his hips rolled slow and rhythmic to meet the apex of your thighs, deepening the connection between your two bodies with each new motion and drinking in every sound of pleasure that left your pretty little mouth.

He couldn’t help but mark you with more bruises, wanting to claim you as his but not go so far as to hurt you. He was first and foremost focused on making you feel good. That way, in turn, you could make him feel good. And so the back and forth, endless cycle of drawing pleasure from each other’s bodies filled the tent with his strained whimpers and your delectable, melodic little whines.

Reaching a hand down to massage more gentle circles on your already overstimulated, swollen little clit, Kaeya’s thrusts picked up speed. Your tight cunt was constricting around him so hard he knew he didn’t have much longer before he lost control, but he was on a mission to make sure you came first.

“Kaeya—!” You called out through a clipped moan. And, Archons, you were so beautiful like this. Always so, so beautiful without even having to try. And Kaeya loved you. Kaeya loved you.

When you reached your limit, entire body tensing as wave after wave of pleasure washed through your veins, Kaeya gave a few more deep rolls of his hips and then he too was coming undone, filling you to the brim and stroking your face with the back of his hand as you both rode out the aftermath of the high.

The next thing you knew, you were wrapped up in Kaeya’s arms again. He held you close, and like this, listening to the steady beat of his heart as your vision swirled with sparkling stars, you felt like you were in a dream, drifting off to sleep on this cloud of warmth and pleasure.

And you loved him. Archons, you loved him.

The last thought you could recall before falling unconscious was that all this had been worth the wait, and a little while later, after Kaeya had cleaned you up, careful not to wake you, and bundled you both up in the blankets, snuggling back in close to you, he whispered those words out loud, meaning every syllable even if you weren’t able to hear them.

“I’ve always loved you,” he said, his voice a ghost drifting away on the next breeze. “And I’m never going to lose you again.”

Kaeya was quick to doze off beside you, and there was just a sense that, by the time you both woke up tomorrow, all your old wounds would be healed.

†††

The final day of your summer in Mondsadt was coming to a close, the city of contracts calling you and your classmates back to begin a new semester. But, as you stared out at the city of freedom, the landscape glowing gold with the setting sun, you were relieved to find you didn’t feel sad.

You, Kaeya, and your two research partners had all gone for a nice lunch that day. You thought it might be important for your friends to get to know your boyfriend a little better, now that you were lucky enough to be able to refer to Kaeya as such. So, throughout a lengthy afternoon full of laughter and banter, food and drinks, the time arrived for you to return to your temporary apartment and pack your things.

Kaeya offered to help, but you insisted all he had to do was make himself comfortable, unable to hide a smirk as he chose to lounge across your bed rather than take the chair by the desk, already acting right at home.

Neither of you really talked about it— how much you were going to miss each other— but that was all well and good with you.

Besides, Kaeya had already made arrangements to come visit you in Liyue a few weeks from now, wanting you to give him the full tour once you’d gotten all settled in and back to the normal swing of your routine. In between now and then though, you’d both spend your time writing letters and counting down the days. You were excited to see his messages signed off with that indigo eyespot feather again. Just the thought had your heart skipping a beat.

Waving goodbye to Kaeya as you crossed the bridge leading away from Mondstadt, his lithe silhouette shrinking by the stone arches more and more every time you dared glance back, the sky entering its era of peach and lilac before shrouding the valleys with its velvet navy, you found yourself craving the darkness of night.

Because, from now on, all you’d have to do to be reminded Kaeya was with you was to look up and find the peacock in the stars.

***

(Hello and thank you for reading! Also, to the person who requested this fic— first and foremost, I sincerely hope you enjoyed, and second, thank you for making such a nice request!

I had a lot of fun writing for Kaeya again. I guess I kind of can’t help but make him soft and tender in the end haha. I think he talks a big game and plays up his whole flirtatious side but deep down what he really wants and needs is a deep emotional connection as well.

Anyway, thanks again for reading, and if anyone else is ever interested in making a request, please check out my request guidelines.

See you next time <3)

[kindred-sims]

Will Barclay considered himself a very proud and determined man. He was also, as proclaimed by his wife, to be “far too stubborn for his own good”.

He supposed that all things considered, she’d been right to say so. Especially since it had led him here.

He’d always dreamed of this. Having his own home, his own farm. Growing up he’d loved to run wild, playing in the woods behind his home, going fishing with his friends and going out riding on his horse whenever the moment allowed it. But then, he’d gotten older. He’d been given more responsibilities, more demands. Gone were the carefree days of frolicking in the woods, as the moment he’d turned thirteen, he’d been put to work in his father’s store. It’d been expected of him of course, it was a family business after all – but there was only so much he could take when it came to standing behind a counter all day.

It just wasn’t what he wanted from his life. He knew that, he knew what he wanted and it wasn’t that.

And so, soon as he was old enough, he made up his mind. He was going to be a farmer, and he would do as he himself pleased. No one around to give him orders, no one to yell at him or complain.

Here, he felt free. And it was the best feeling describable.

Even if it was the reason he and his father were no longer on speaking terms. He’d not been at all pleased when Will had revealed his plans to travel out to Nevada and begin farming, why, even now Will could still hear the exact last conversation they had ringing in his ears:

“Do you know how hard our family has worked to get to this point? Do you?”

“You tell me all the time, Papa, I know--”

“No, I don’t think you do! Else you wouldn’t be throwing away everything we’ve given you so hastily like this, I just don’t understand it, boy! Why? What on Earth has gotten into you?”

“Papa--”

“And to drag your new bride into all of this, I really just don’t understand it. Why not stay here, where there’s more certainty, more stability? Why risk traveling so far for what could very well be a pointless gamble--”

“Enough! That’s enough, for the love of God! Will you just let me speak my peace? I’ve told you time and time again, I’ve already discussed this thoroughly with Aggie and she’s on board with it. Neither of us would be going if we weren’t sure. Yes, it may be a gamble, but it is mine to take, and I don’t care if you support me or not. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life behind a counter, watching the world go by when I could be an active part of it! That may be all well and good for you, Papa, but its not for me. Its just not.”

“...I see now, that my words have fallen on deaf ears. Very well then, if that’s the path you have chosen, then so be it. But just know, if things do indeed fall apart and you find yourself in great need, do not come crawling back to me.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

Looking out over the view that surrounded him now, that conversation didn’t sting Will as much as it once had. It hurt him, the words that had been spoken and the words that were heard, but it didn’t matter anymore. He was here, he was where he’d always wanted to be. His father was wrong, things would turn out alright. Things would not fall apart, and someday, when the farm was where he wanted it to be, he could gloat. He could gloat, and prove his father had been the fool all along, not him.

He didn’t want to think anything otherwise.

[the-fiction-witch]

The New Job

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet + Spooky

I let out a stunted yawn trying my best not to let my yawns be too obvious as it was early and had a long way still to go. But I had been travelling for what felt like years at this bloody point. So much has changed within the last year. Fallen in love, perfected groundbreaking surgery, got arrested for said groundbreaking surgery, got released under servitude, and paid my way out of it, lost the woman I love and… lost Fagin too. But I suppose I had come to think of myself much like a hand on a clock face, I must go forward even if it hurts, even if I carry a weight eight times my own behind me, I must move forward ever forward and never once back. I now sat in a carriage being bustled and bumped along. Staying in Port Victory wasn’t an option anymore, too many ghosts. Nothing was left for me there and I needed a blank slate somewhere to start over again. And God knows I haven’t got that many more cracks at a blank slate, I’ve already had more than most. But I managed to weasel my way into a job. With my own home office, a weekly salary, free accommodation and a completely fresh start. A small ocean-side town in the States where hopefully things could be fresh. Even if that meant packing up my life in Port Victory and travelling from Australia to South Carolina. Which… Is not fun. And is long. And hard. And I forgot how dark and cold boats are. You’d think I’d have remembered that… from the Navy, but it still got me.

I sighed for a moment, pulled my letter out from my pocket read through it all again trying to remind myself of things,

‘Dear Dr Dawkins,

We are so glad and excited that you coming to our little town. Everyone is extremely excited to meet you and have you here with us. You should arrive on the twelfth all being well. I look forward to your arrival so I can personally meet you and introduce you to the town. We have set up your house and office, it’s sitting here waiting for your arrival.

you enjoy your journey to Charleston.

Signed

Mayor Wolton’

I knew it couldn’t be too much longer now, Part of me shivered with fear and concern, And yet another part of me couldn’t sit still with excitement and anticipation. The carriage bounced and buckled, the roads here were worse now, and the fields seemed to stretch for further than I could even imagine I could see trees and farmhouses miles away across the vast emptiness, the sky a deep grey as the rain slowly drizzled from the sky. The sound of the horse’s shoes clicking on the road, the patterning of the raindrops on the wooden roof above me, the fluttering of a window open on the other side, I had tried to shut it but it was stuck worse than my strength could fix. I held my bag tightly protecting the contents within from the movement, I got my pocket watch from my pocket, I clicked it open revealing the face of the watch. I hoped we would be there soon so I had time to get settled.

“Dr Dawkins!” The man shouted over the rain and sounds of horses

“Yes?” I responded, my voice a little hoarse from hardly speaking today,

“We’ll be arriving in Charleston soon sir!” he yelled,

“Ohh thank you” I answered,

I looked desperate to try and see something, anything of the place I was going to be calling home but the rain and the small windows allowed me not to see much.

I pushed down my window and almost stuck out my head to try and see more. I could see houses, trees, and at last signs of life.

This place seemed smaller than I imagined. A small town with shops, townhouses, and some basic cottage industry all by the sea but the rain battering everything in sight.

The carriage suddenly stopped so I got out holding tightly onto my bag as I stepped out smelling the sea air turned on my heels to see water being battered by the rain. We had stopped surrounded by an old twisted metal sign,

‘Charleston’

I looked into the town and saw the cobblestone square with a small half-burnt tree, beyond the tree was a little wooden church at the end of the long street. With another long street passes through the tree as well however in the other direction.

“I’ll take your things to your house, Dr Dawkins,” the man says,

“Oh thank you” I nodded, and he whipped the horses and headed off into the town.

I know I am meant to meet with the Mayor but I couldn’t see a single soul.

I headed over the threshold and in slowly, looking at the little line of shops and houses, none of them had lights on, the rain dying down and the sky coming over dark and gloomy not the best weather to be arriving.

This place was just so strange, and different. I’d never seen a place like this before it was all so unusual and so empty… it put me on edge.

I turned to look around this town, trying to find Well I wasn’t sure what I was looking for exactly but something. I turned back towards the church and I jumped seeing a woman there standing in the middle of the road.

I knew she hadn't been there before as the carrier just went past where she now stood. It was as if she appeared there the second I looked away, I looked at her taking in every inch of her.

She stood in the middle of the road with her hands behind her back, she wore a blue and black dress that sat on that hove on the ground so I couldn’t see her feet and yet the dress didn’t touch the mud. She wore black gloves and blue ribbons blowing in her long Y/C hair in braids and plaits, her lips blood red and her eyes Y/E/C. She was beautiful and yet frightening like she was somehow haunting to look at, even if she was pretty, something about her made my hair stand on end, my stomach turned and my breath go cold and yet I didn’t want to look away from her.

“Hello,” She smiled her voice smooth but strange,

“Ohh uhh Hello,”

“You’re later than they expected,”

“Yes... I do apologize, Traveling has been hell,” I said, “Where is everyone else?”

“In the church, there is a funeral on the hill this evening. I didn't know her. besides they like me to stay away from such things,” she explained,

“Right…” I nodded,

“You’re the new doctor? Aren’t you?” she asked and I nodded “Good, I rather hope I will get to see much more of you, Dr Dawkins”

I froze up a moment, “How- How did you know my name?” I stuttered,

“Well, Your initials are on your carry bag,” she smiled, “That and the town hasn’t stopped talking about you,”

“I see, I apologise I just -”

“You thought I had played a lark on you?” she interrupted, “It’s quite alright Dr Dawkins, I get it a lot,” she smiled, “The Town Often thinks such things of me, You’d Think me, Wicked Doctor,”

“Oh, No no…” I told her, “I’m sorry I don’t even know your name,”

“Miss Y/l/N,” she smiled, moving her hand from behind her back and offering it to me. I nodded slightly nervously, taking her hand in my own and politely giving the top of her hand a small kiss, she smiled widely as I did. While I was holding her hand I noticed she seemed to be in pain and I saw the sleeve of her dress move slightly away from her glove and I noticed a mark on her skin almost like a burn or a tattoo on her wrist as black as night and seemingly shapeless.

I didn’t mention it, I felt it would be rude to have brought it up to her.

“They won’t be done for a while. If you like, I could take you to the house and office?” she offered,

“Oh well thank you very much, yes I’d like to get settled before it gets too dark” I smiled so she nodded and began walking down the road towards the burnt tree and then going down the road to the right.

She led me through the dark town, her dress making a strange fabric swishing noise unearthly due to the fact I couldn’t hear her steps, until she stopped. the last house it was a tall weathered old wooden house with dirty windows hiding what was within, there was a wooden porch with steps out the front that led to the front door and the post box beside a small bell on the wall, There was a small bench beside the door and a metal sign hung by the wall out into the road it had a syringe and a stethoscope with Doctor written under it.

She walked up to the door opening the post box revealing a couple of letters and two keys she flicked through the letters as she came back over to me, “I’m sorry these are for the old doctor,” she said putting the letters away, “The key to the door, and to the post box,” she smiled handing me the two keys,

“Thank you,” I nodded taking the keys, “what happened to the old doctor? If you don’t mind my asking?”

“We don’t know,” she shrugged, “One day he just packed up his things his wife, his children and then left,” she explained,

“I see, Well I’ll do my best to uhh to replace him,” I said,

“I’m sure you’ll be brilliant,” she smiled, “I better be going Moll will be missing me,”

“Moll?” I asked

“Ohh I’m sorry My cat,”

“Oh, we used to have a cat at my old hospital.” I chuckled, “Evil little thing but, still, they can be nice. I- I would love to see your cat?”

“Perhaps I could bring her to visit,” she smiled, “Perhaps I could bring you some dinner this evening as you're busy getting settled?”

“Well That would be lovely Miss Y/l/N,” I smiled blushing slightly, “I look forward to it,”

“As do I, I’ll see you later Dr Dawkins,” she smiled, “Welcome To Charleston,” before she hurried off into town. 

I unlocked the door to the house and a wave of dust moved through the air as the door was opened. The room was tiny merely a porch with two doors one to the right and one straight head. I opened the door to the right, this was the office I was going to be working in from now on. Shelves of bottles and stock, a theatre table some various chairs and tools I had left behind in Port Victory with a fireplace to the side and a window out to the front porch. The place would need a clean up but it was more than serviceable. I headed through the other door and found all My bags sitting on the floor.. The room was nothing but a corridor with three doors, one at the end of the hall and one on each side of this door one to the left and one to the right straight ahead of me was the staircase leading to the upstairs. The Door to the left was the living room; it had a window seat and a large fireplace, the fire already roaring up the chimney, two perfect chairs sat with a small table between them on bookshelves all over the place. I herded upstairs curiously the stairs creaked and dust fell from the bannister as I ran my hand across it the top hallway had three doors the one to the left of the staircase had a bath a sink and a few other things with another fireplace that must have been connected to the living room one in some way to heat the water, the one across from the staircase was the main bedroom with a double bed with blankets waiting across it, a vanity, some chests of draws a small window out towards the hill. The other room had another bed and a few toys and other such children’s items. I headed downstairs again to the door at the end of the corridor. It was a dining room with a rather large dark dining room table and another door at the end, where notes and baskets all over the table, filled with fruit, flowers, and other such small things all with notes from the people in town, mostly from the women of town. I checked the last door seeing the little kitchen and the pantry as well as the door out to the back garden.

The place was… nice, more than I could have hoped for honestly, to think the whole place was mine to do whatever I wanted with. I started putting everything away, unpacking all my things into the little places I thought things should go. Once enough for the next few days of settling was set up I went and ran a hot bath to clean myself up after the long trip! Ohhh goodness it was a godsend, I could have laid in that bathtub for hours…

But then I remembered!

“Ohh bugger Miss y/l/n!”

So I jumped out got dry and some fresh clothes on,

I could see it was just starting to get dark as I headed downstairs lighting some candles in the dining room as the bell rang at the door, I rushed over and fixed my hair a little before opening the door and seeing Miss Y/l/N stood on the porch with a box of a few things, in a purple dress not too different from the dress she wore earlier today and a black coat over her shoulders.

“Ohh Hello Miss Y/l/N,” I smiled,

“Hello, Dr Dawkins,” she smiled, “May I come in?”

“Oh, yes of course” I nodded, offering my hand. She happily took it and stepped inside “May I take your coat?”

“Yes Please” she nodded, “Oh wait, Moll, come along,”

Suddenly a pitch-black cat climbed out from under her dress its bright blue eyes shock against the black fur,

“Ohh This is Moll then I assume?” I laughed as the cat sat on her shoulder,

“Yes this is Moll, she was very excited to meet you,”

“Well, I was very excited to meet you too Moll,”

“Come along Moll get down,” she laughs and the cat happily jumped down sitting on the rug so I carefully slipped off her coat putting it on the rack,

“You look very beautiful Miss Y/l/N,”

“Oh, why thank you Dr Dawkins,” she smiled, “So shall we go sit down to dinner?”

“Absolutely, did you bring something for us?” I asked,

“Of course I did,” she says, going towards the dining room I happily followed her and her cat as she went to the kitchen sorting out what she brought,

“Your cat is very well trained,” I said,

“Ohh thank you,” she smiled, “I made you some soup for dinner and something rather special for desert,”

“That's so kind of you miss Y/l/N,” I smiled, “You didn’t have to-” I began,

“Well, You needed dinner after your trip,” she says, “Go sit down,”

I nodded going and sitting at one end of the dinner table, she brought in a small bowl putting it down on the floor I assume for Moll before she brought in two bowls of soup sitting one in front of me and a spoon then going to the other side of the table with her bowl and spoon,

“Thank you very much for dinner Miss Y/l/N,” I smiled,

“You're quite Welcome Dr Dawkins,” she smiled, starting her soup so I picked up the silver spoon and had a small sip quietly ready to have a fake smile and force down the revolting food but it was genuinely delicious.

“Ummmm... This is lovely,” I smiled quickly having more wanting to fill my empty stomach with the food,

“Why thank you Dr Dawkins” she smiled slowly eating her soup, I didn’t take long to finish the bowl as I had barely eaten all day I went to get up but she did first, “Please don’t get up I’ll go,” she says gathering the dishes,

“No please Miss Y/l/N you’re my guest,” I told her getting up and trying to stop her,

“No, no, I’ll do it for you it's alright you’ve had a long trip,” she explained making me sit back down and going into the kitchen,

“If I may say so, you’re a very lovely lady miss Y/l/N, You’re very kind to me,”

“Awww why thank you,” she smiled, “why wouldn’t I be kind to you?” she asked as she came putting a pie on the table with two little plates, “You seem lovely,” she smiled,

“Thank you Miss Y/l/N, But really I don’t think anyone has been so kind to me,” I explained,

“Well You're very sweet, and of course you should always be kind to a doctor, don't know when you’ll need one” she explained, making me laugh a little, “And.. I’m the first one you meet here and I should make a good impression for everyone's sake,” she says,

“That's very sweet of you, what sort of pie is it?” I asked,

“Apple,” she smiled, “from the trees in the woods,”

“You made it?”

“I did, this afternoon, hurry it's still warm,” she says handing me a slice on the plate I happily took it sitting back in my seat with the pie having a little taste and it was lovely,

“You are an amazing cook Miss Y/l/N,”

“Thank you Dr Dawkins,” she smiled, “I’m sure you're a lovely cook as well?”

“Um, not quite, I am not a good cook Never been one for it honestly,” I explained,

“Well I’ll have to be the judge of that someday,” she says eating her slice, Once I was finished I got up and took the plates even if she wasn’t happy about it, I put the dishes in the sink and when I returned to the dining room she was stood with Moll in her hands, “I suppose we should get going, let you get some rest ready for tomorrow,” she says,

“Oh Yes, of course, I wouldn’t want to keep you up any longer anyhow. Thank you very much for dinner Miss Y/l/N,” I smiled,

“It's quite alright Dr Dawkins, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around town,” she smiled,

“Certainly, I do rather hope I won't be seeing you in my office any time soon,” I told her,

“That’s very kind of you Doctor,” she smiled, “ -Ohh before I go I have something for you,”

“Oh? Something for me?” I asked curiously,

“A Little Present,” she smiled getting something from her bag it was a rather beautiful little flower a white daisy, “I hope you like it here,” she smiled,

“Thank you, Miss Y/l/N,” I smiled putting it to the side to go to the door helping her with her coat Moll hiding under her coat again I opened the door for her and she smiled going out into the darkness, “Thank you so much for today, for tonight, for everything Miss Y/l/N,” I smiled,

“Y/n,”

“Excuse me?”

“Y/n Y/l/N,” she smiled,

“Y/n, what a beautiful name. Jack, Jack Dawkins” I smiled,

“I’ll be seeing you then, Jack,” she smiled heading down the little porch steps and almost disappeared into the darkness of the town.

[annikin-annotates]

Tear you Apart - Chapter 2

Hello my loves! I’m back with my first post of the year! This one wasn’t supposed to be the first post of the year, but here we are. I have lots of fics planned for the coming months so keep an eye out!! Before we get into this chapter I would like to take a second to tell you that this fic deals heavily with trauma, emotional abuse and the effects that come with that. So if this isn’t your thing, please keep the above in mind. 

Take care darlings!

Content warnings: Trauma, coercion, A rather nasty bite scene, the Spawn in this isn’t our mans Astarion (He is making an appearance soon, I promise!). 

Word Count: 2,648

Na-Mara’s Pov

While she had been afforded comfortable lodgings by her ever generous master, her captor, whose name she came to know was Fintos, most of her time during the day was filled with seeing that his needs were met. She did so with well disguised chagrin; he couldn’t know of her true intent in letting him do the things he did. The rest of her free time, which wasn’t usually much, was spent reading or resting from the previous night’s activities.

It became her nightly routine to be paraded about the establishment like a prized show horse, to entertain whomever her master wished her to. By then, the night’s intended target would be begging her for a chance to see what other services her body could provide. Na-Mara was never allowed to refuse and they never declined. 

That brought her to where she was now, lounging scantily clad across the deep purple settee in her master���s office reading a book. While it was near unbearable to be around him, she found an odd sense of satisfaction bubble within her whenever he called on her; his infatuation with her only made her job easier. 

Her plan was to allow him to fall for her, to make him think that she was eating from the palm of his hand. She would not allow herself to forget his transgressions against her, she would use it as a driving force to get what she wanted: her pelt back. She would do what she needed, and if that meant playing the role set out for her, then so be it, her pride be damned. 

The last few months had been torturous, always pandering to the wants and whims of others and never herself, she was in a near constant state of exhaustion. Though quiet moments like this allowed her a momentary reprieve, to allow her mind to drift off to a kinder place. A place where a dashing prince would sweep her off her feet and take her far away from here, just like in the stories her master would read aloud to her. 

She would often think of home in these quiet moments, reminiscing on how salt and sand would cling to her skin after laying on a beach all day; or how divine tearing apart a fresh kill felt. Her life was nothing like that, not anymore at least. There would be no dashing prince that would rescue her nor a fairytale wedding to celebrate; the only way she saw this ending was in blood. Either Fintos’ or her own, she wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t desperate to find out - not if her current plan was to work. 

—     

She had been dressed in silver chains adorned with gems and pearls that glittered and shone in the setting sun of the late afternoon. Two large slits sat high in the dress, exposing the entirety of each of her legs. The softness of where her legs met her torso on display, the chains connecting the front and back of the dress felt so thin that she was sure they would break if her pace was more than a saunter. Her hair was braided away from her face, small pieces too short to be neatly tucked away intricately formed into waves on her temples. 

Dressing in attire like this had become part of her daily routine; she would bathe and dry herself and then be subject to hours of looking at herself in a lookingglass. Though by the time her ‘helpers’ - other unfortunate souls Fintos had abducted and then forced into servitude - were done, she hardly looked like herself. 

Na-Mara felt that was easier in a way, it separated her from what she had to force herself through each night; the woman being paraded around night after night wasn’t her - but a caricature. It was easy once she got the hang of it, her job was to pander to the patrons - whatever that was, singing to small groups or entertaining them with small parlour tricks. All to make them feel comfortable; comfortable enough to loosen their purses, and their tongues. But nothing worked as well as listening to them, other than using her body, of course.

The simple fact of the matter was that drunks talked a lot, and the more they consumed - the more their tongues wagged. She would listen to whatever they had to say, more often than not they would offload their burdens onto a pretty thing like her without much pushing. Most of the time all it took was a brush of her slender fingers across their chest and it was over before it even began; it was all too easy.   

Na-Mara’s first target of the evening was a pretty young woman with hair that reminded her of the setting sun, deep orange woven with gold and red. She was dressed beautifully, almost too nicely for the establishment; she wanted people to know she was wealthy. With her velvet dress in a shade of green so deep it looked black under the dim light, a sage green chemise peeked through the lacing of her sleeves. She was dripping in gold, gold bands and shiny gems adorning each of her fingers, she wore several necklaces layered around her neck; a silk ribbon choker, followed by a longer chain with a diamond encrusted emerald pendant.  

Despite her frivolous fashion sense, she proved to be quite shy; all fluttering lashes and tinted cheeks each time Na-Mara smiled in her direction. It was quite the welcome change of pace, it was nice to not have people tripping over one another vying for her attention. Na-Mara waved her over with a delicate hand gesture, a sense of satisfaction bubbling in her stomach as the starry eyed woman jumped at the chance to bask in her light. 

“You seemed lonely over there by yourself, I thought you might benefit from some company that isn’t a man,” Na-Mara smiled as the young woman spoke, sidling up to her. Na-mara signalled the barkeep for two glasses of red - the expensive stuff, her master was paying afterall. 

“I suppose you’re right. Terribly dull creatures men are, once you’ve met one; you’ve met them all,” she half joked as two glasses of wine were placed in front of them. Na-Mara took the fine crystal into her hand, sipping the liquid inside - if there was one thing she had grown fond of while on land, it was wine.  

The woman blushed a pretty shade of pink, looking down to the red wood of the bar before following Na-Mara’s lead and taking a sip of her drink. She was a pretty woman, round faced with beautiful blue eyes that looked at her through dark lashes, freckles dusted her entire face - each one of them a love letter from the sun. It almost made her feel bad, it truly was a pity that Na-Mara had a job to do.

She followed her routine to the letter; she was kind and inviting, nodding and smiling in encouragement watching as the woman in front of her became more dishevelled. Her words had begun to slur quite some time ago, on her third glass of wine while Na-Mara had still been sipping on her first. She had finally put a stop to her master's sick game when the poor woman could no longer stand straight. 

“Goodness, are you alright?” she asked, worry lacing her voice. She wrapped her arm around her waist, tight enough to steer her, but not tight enough to cause alarm.

The woman laughed heartily. “Oh I am fine! One too many glasses is all,” she smiled, the pink tint on her skin darkening. Na-Mara laughed lightly, forgetting for a moment that she was the cause of this, she was the harbinger of this woman's death. 

“Well, let’s get you some place where you can relax for a moment, shall we?” she asked, leading her down a secluded hallway towards where her captors' lackeys would no doubt be waiting to wring whatever information out of her they could. 

No sooner had she delivered one woman to her demise, she was scooped up into the arms of her captor - he had another job for her. It wasn’t another target, simply a request from a patron with a rather peculiar appetite.  

Na-Mara’s blood ran cold as she looked pleadingly at Fintos to take back the order, he only urged her forwards, his dark brows raised expectantly. He tipped her chin towards him, his face dipping to hers, “You will do this pet, remember our deal,” he chided, his breath fanning across her face, the bond tugging between them. She nodded hesitantly, he was right, they had a deal. 

Her breath shook as she took a moment to compose herself, the air around her thick with incense becoming stuck in her throat, nearly choking her. The fear on her face was replaced with an easy smile as she sauntered forward, jewels and delicately strung pearls that hung from her outfit glinting in the candlelight. She was a delicious sight, she had no doubt, her dress made from fine silver chains doing nothing to hide the peaks and valleys of her body. 

Her new client - a vampire spawn, had requested to feed on her; to see if she tasted as sweet as she looked, according to her master. A disgusted shiver danced across her spine as she made her way to him, he sat in a plush armchair with a crystal glass filled with a thick red liquid, she hoped was wine. 

He smirked over his glass at her, taking a sip of the dark liquid before shifting in the chair. Her eyes narrowed into a sultry stare, one that she had honed into a weapon, her supple body her armour in which she wore into battle each night. And with the power that both provided, she could bring any man to their knees, singing praises and prayers alike. 

He had pulled Na-Mara into his lap unceremoniously, a surprised squeak leaving her lips as her back collided with his chest. His fingers laced tightly into the bottom of her braid, hair pinching and pulling painfully as she tried to turn her head to meet his gaze. Her heart beat furiously in her chest, like the wings of a bird trapped in a gilded cage. All she could think about was how much she didn’t want this, and how much it would hurt, of that she had no doubt. 

Though she had no choice but to push through, to let the fear course through her, to let it turn her whole being bitter. She hoped that she tasted like rot when she hit his tongue, she hoped that whatever sick pleasure he got from splaying her out like this - for all to see, turned to ash in his mouth. She hoped that it would make them all think twice before their calloused hands reached out to bruise.

His cold breath fanned out across the juncture where her shoulder met her neck, he was centimetres from her now. She could smell the distinct tang of blood on his breath - she wasn’t his first meal of the night, she prayed that he wouldn’t take more than he needed; and if he did, she hoped he at least would finish the job. 

Na-Mara relaxed in his grip, allowing him to position her wherever he felt most comfortable. 

She secluded herself into that sweet place in her mind, where neither pain nor sadness could lay their claws on her. Resigning herself to the fact that yet another piece of her would be torn from her, to live eternally in the body of another instead of being buried - at least one part of her would be free. 

She felt his tongue slide across her pulse point, gauging the best place to sink his teeth into, she steeled her nerves; forcing herself to stop trembling in his grip. It took every ounce of her strength not to shy away from him, to not will the ground beneath her to open and swallow her whole. His teeth sank into her without warning, a choked cry falling from her lips as pain radiated from her neck. She could feel him pulling the blood from her body, his fangs pressing deep into her jugular.   

The whole ordeal was over before it had truly begun, as a warm liquid splattered across her face and body. She was promptly pushed from the Spawns lap, she looked at him through bleary eyes trying to make sense of what just happened. His face was incandescent with rage - like he had been given the poor end of the bargain. 

“She tastes like salt water and rotten flesh!” he hissed, gulping down the liquid in his glass, trying to rid himself of her rancid taste. She couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation; he bit her, a creature born amidst the salt and sea - what did he expect her to taste of? Her captor was by the spawns side in seconds, smoothing the situation over by offering the neck of another one of his pretty little puppets, it seemed to quell the spawns temper slightly.

Her captor's quick action allowed for one of his other employees to scoop her up, and lead her upstairs to her chambers. A moon toned Drow woman with hair the colour of spun silver and a voice that reminded her of her home, it was soft and sweet like summer rain. She held Na-Mara close to her chest as they walked, not caring about the blood that was staining her dark attire.

It took for her to sit in front of her mirror to realise that the warm liquid spat on her had, in fact, been blood - her blood. She scrunched her nose in disgust before reaching for the pitcher and basin by the vanity, a rough linen cloth hanging from the bowl's edge. Only to have the cloth gently taken from her hands, each speck of blood dabbed away with kindness she had not known for many months. 

Na-Mara found herself tearing up as she stared at the puncture wound in the mirror, two ugly caverns forcefully torn into her flesh. The young Drow laid a soft hand on her cheek, thumb tracing her cheek bone as she made eye contact with her in the mirror. “Will it scar?” Na-Mara asked, her voice sounding smaller than it ever has. 

She nodded in response, “It will,” she started, “But do not let its pain darken your heart, there is so much sweetness in the world; so much left to keep fighting for.” 

Na-Mara bit the inside of her cheek, how could she not let it darken her heart? She had been taken from all she has ever known and loved, forced into servitude and made to suffer a new horror each night. She wanted to scream until her voice gave in, until her throat and lungs were bloody and raw, to expel each moment of humiliation and pain she endured. But she couldn’t, it would jeopardise everything she was working towards, but she could manage to articulate some of it."It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We bear no scars for happiness, we learn so little from kindness."

The Drow, whose name she had learned was Nym, left shortly after to return to her clients down stairs. And when she was certain that nobody would bother her for the rest of the night, she poured more water into the basin and scrubbed herself raw. And then she did it again, she still felt dirty, Na-Mara could still feel his hands on her, could still hear that starry eyed woman’s laughter ringing in her ears, she wanted to peel off her skin and set it ablaze. 

She was so tired. 

A big thank you to @arcielee for beta reading for me and @azperja for sitting through countless snippets of this, I appreciate you both so much!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated! it really helps get my work out there!

[metawatts]

What are your thoughts about the fight of Ironwood vs everyone in vol. 8? I was so annoyed by it. I felt like they nerfed Ironwood so hard. Oh, and the writers decided to NOW use Marrow's semblance to stop characters before they can start fighting (the Ace Ops). Would have been nice to have consistent writing and have Marrow use that in the fight against RWBY. (Loved your review of JLxRWBY, btw. You put exactly how I felt into words.)

Well the reason you feel like Ironwood was nerfed was, in fact, because he WAS. I pulled this fact from the rwby wikia because I don’t have it in me to actually hunt down the quote, but, according to the Director’s commentary on episode 12, ‘the reason that Ironwood lost was because the writers felt that Team ORNJ deserved a win after losing to Neopolitan in Volume 7.’

So don’t worry, you’re not crazy. Ironwood absolutely got nerfed so MKEK could make sure JNR didn’t look like the jobbers we know they are. That’s plot armour, deus ex machina, and hand of the author at work, straight from the horse’s mouth. No one is allowed call MKEK good writers ever again, do the words 'kill your darlings' mean nothing anymore?

Anyway, this fight. It’s crap. Honestly a lot of the fights in vol8 are just really bad, that volume was just a disgrace in every way. Personal gripe: the song that plays over it, ‘Be Strong and Hit Stuff’, is probably my least favourite song on the entire vol8 album and considering all of them on the whole suck except for the one that was not written for the show, that’s a low bar. Most of why I hate this song is because Nora is without a doubt my absolute least favourite character in the whole show, but it’s also just. I’ll do song rankings one day.

It's just the same style of formulaic combat that rwby does in every fight of the entire volume. It’s just JNROW mashing their attack buttons until they get a decent combo. And the qrow and robyn and marrow vs the other ace ops scene? Don’t even talk to me about that, so Marrow suddenly has the guts to stop fighters in their tracks when it’s his old team? Vol8 really took every character I vaguely liked and put a gun to their likability (except you Watts you kept slaying, I named this blog for YOU).

I mean, real quick combat breakdown: Emerald rips off Mercury’s kick and then does nothing for the rest of the fight. Jaune and Oscar trade off ‘whack ironwood with my bladed weapon/cane’ before Ren does his stupid rope trick and decides he wants to try whack at Ironwood. Ironwood is doing great here honestly, he’s just in full boxer mode, his guard’s consistently up, he recovers quickly and adapts, he lands some good blows. Jaune and Ren also quietly drop out of the fight here, because Nora is getting powered up by Winter, somehow, even though she’s never been shown to use dust ever she suddenly uses it all the time even though her weapon lacks the same sort of dust casing as Weiss so where’s this come from you’d think she’d have used it against Cinder when she was literally getting killed but WHATEVER-

Anyway Nora gets the first major relevant hit on Ironwood because literally of course she does, we cut off to Marrow being a turncoat, and then cut back to Winter and Oscar riding a Manticore while Nora joins Jaune and Ren and Emerald in ‘not existing in this fight sequence anymore’ land, and apparently they just decided after getting one hit in they’d pause to get on an animal instead of continuing attacking, this fight makes no sense.

Anyway, Ironwood destroys the Manticore barehanded, king shit, Winter hits him with the ice dust she suddenly uses, Oscar poke attacks, and right when ironwood’s about to knock this kid out of the stratosphere, Winter uses some sort of flashy finishing move that is literally ripped from Kill La Kill I see those studio trigger sparkles. Again, also makes no fucking sense either, what even is this, and don’t tell me ‘rule of cool’ because it wasn’t cool, it was lame. And also, so much for ‘give JNRO a win’, they can’t even stick to their own favouritism because Winter does all the actual fuckin work here.

Overall scores

Story Context: 4/10

Fight Choreography: 1/10

Authorial Bullshit Intervention (Plot Armour, this time admitted to): 10/10

Emotional Investment: 4/10 (but only because I wanted Ironwood to at least megaton punch Jaune or Nora into outer space)

Deserved Outcome: 1/10

Also, thank you!! I ended up having a lot of fun writing out my JLxRWBY review, even if a lot of it was tempered by Seething Rage. Being a miserly grump sometimes is good for the soul, after all.

[sharkpupsblog]

😨 Lost Horse! 🐎 PART 10. Before the storm.

Sabine x GN! Reader fanfic!

Hi!!! Silly part out today!!!! I have made so many parts for this… i am having so much fun writing but I really have got to put some restrictions on myself 😭💔 anyways Nothing else to say today so! Enjoy!!! :D

Summary: you and Sabine go on a date while on your date you open up to her.

Warnings: foul language.

“When I was a kid my dad told me this trail was haunted” you rode side by side with Sabine. The girl looked to you “haunted?” You nod giving her a smile “he said he always saw weird things on the Firgrove trail.” You narrowed your eyes “he said he saw…” You lower your voice to a whisper “aliens!” You whisper yell. Sabine rolls her eyes at you “and you believe him?” You shook your head “not anymore” Sabine takes notice of your words “not anymore?”

She repeats, and you nod “I was six when he told me” you continue riding down the trail. “I was too young to think my dad would lie so I was terrified of this trail” you look around the trail. “Maybe he wasn’t lying” you continue looking around. Sabine wonders what it is you are looking for. “I mean if Garnok and Aideen exist what says my dad didn’t actually see some aliens on the trail?” Your mare neighs, she lowers her head to the ground to take a bite of some grass.

“I haven’t seen any aliens” Sabine looks up at the sky. The sun shines bright above you both. It’s a nice sunny day. Perfect for a trail ride date. “So your dad-“ she looks back down at you “is a liar.” Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes at her. “Are you saying that because you seriously don’t believe or because you hate my dad?” The girl smiles she tells you it’s a “mix of both.” Any hopes of introducing the two washes away from you. It’s definitely best not to introduce them.

You fear they will kill each other, or maybe your dad will have Anne do it for him. Yeah, your dad would most likely have Anne do it for him. “Even if I liked your dad, I seriously doubt I would believe he saw E.T out here” Sabine watches as you dismount, and you walk over to a tree. At the roots of the tree some moss is growing. The Firgrove trail was where you got some of your supplies for Farah. The trail not only served as the perfect date spot but also a great gathering place. You grab a handful of moss, and you take a little Ziplock baggie out of your pocket.

The moss is carefully stuffed into the baggie. While you put the moss up your mare grazes. Khaan is still walking, but he comes to a stop when he reaches where your mare is. The Friesian joins your horse in grazing. “Can’t wait to see the look on your face when a cool spaceship comes flying by” you walk over to your mare. You put the Ziplock baggie full of moss in your saddlebag. You grab another empty baggie. It goes into your pocket for later.

“What kind of plants are you looking for?” Sabine dismounts to allow Khaan to graze. You smile when she walks over to you. “In this area there is moss and rubia” you hold out your hand, and Sabine takes it. No more riding from here on its walking. You walk, and Sabine walks with you. Behind you both your horses slowly follow you. They graze as they follow. Sabine helps you look for moss. She only helps with moss because she has no idea what rubia looks like.

While you walk, and look for moss and rubia you also talk. You tell Sabine that you learned how to play a new song on her guitar. It’s an easy one to play for a beginner like you. You also thank her again for giving you the guitar. The girl handed it over to you because she knew you would use it. She really didn’t want to have the guitar sit in her closet anymore. It felt like a huge waste of money to not use it.

The guitar was in good hands now. Hands that would definitely play it and not stuff it in a closet. “Did you talk to Katja yet?” You stop your plant searching, so you can look at Sabine. “She said she sent you a message about plants in Wildwoods” Sabine would take you herself but after what happened with the druid stone, she wanted nothing to do with Wildwoods.

You knew why she didn’t want to go back there. She told you her reason why a while ago. She told you when you mentioned the plants located there. You wanted to go but you did not know the area, so you asked Sabine to come along. The girl told you she couldn’t. The explosion of the stone left her and Khaan terrified to go back. What was supposed to be just another normal mission turned into the mission. The stone’s explosion left more than physical scars.

You understood her fear perfectly. “I did and she told me to meet her there Friday” Sabine couldn’t take you, but her friends/co-workers could. You met Katja first. You met her because she bumped into you and Sabine in Hollow Woods. The witch was headed home to the valley, and you accidentally bumped into her. Katja wanted you dead she really did, but she realized you could be used for info. The woman tried her best at getting info. For one full week she tried to get you to spill as much as she could. You had absolutely nothing important on you.

It was clear you were just Avalon’s kid. Not a future druid or a Soul Rider just a druid’s kid. The next week the witch decided was going to kill you with an ice storm when you were riding home alone. She thought it was best for Sabine to have no distractions. You ended up finding her before she could get a proper storm going. She had her violin with her, that’s how you found her. You told her she played beautifully, and it was enough to flatter the witch into not killing you. She would say it was pity for you that made her change her mind.

“Jay said she’s going too since she has more knowledge on plants than I do” you met Jay when Sabine introduced you both. Sabine introduced you to her in hopes of Jay being able to help you with your plant search. She also did it so Jay wouldn’t pull the shit Katja did. At first the girl didn’t really care for you. She started caring after you gifted her a book. Sabine told you that Jay liked books. You wanted to make a good impression, so you gifted her a book.

The girl appreciated the book and her no care mindset changed towards you. You were on good terms with all the Dark Rider’s. You were now not only hiding one criminal from your dad but three. You were hiding three criminals from the druid’s most wanted list. If your dad ever found out, you were surely going to get in huge trouble. You were fine though. All your meetings were secret and in places your dad would never go to. He would never find out. Hiding this secret made you feel really guilty, so a part of you wanted him to find out.

Maybe you could get him to like your new friends and your girlfriend. You were getting tired of hiding this big of a secret. It was too much for you. Due to your heavy thinking you went quiet. Sabine noticed it, she gave your hand a squeeze directing your attention to her. “Everything okay?” Sabine’s look held pure worry for you. You looked to her giving her hand a squeeze back. “I’m fine” you gave her a sad smile “I just-.” Before you could tell her what was bothering you, you were interrupted.

Your mare neighed behind you, and Khaan whinnied. You looked to the horses seeing Khaan trying to nip at your mare. The Lipizzaner backed away from the Friesian trying to get him to leave her alone. Sabine redirected you again, she wanted you to speak about what was bothering you. The horses were playing they would be fine. She was focused on you and you only at the moment “You what?” You looked back at her. You were glad that she kept catching your attention. You wanted to talk to someone about what bothered you.

You needed to talk to someone before guilt ate you up. “I feel really guilty about keeping you a secret from my dad” you let go of Sabine’s hand. You backed up needing a little more space to talk. She understood she stayed where she was. She listened as you talked about what bothered you. “Lying about Khaan hurt and lying about you hurts more because this lie is much bigger than the one about Khaan” you hugged yourself. “You’re my girlfriend” you took a shaky breath in “I want him to know what you mean to me but-.” You looked up at Sabine.

The girl frowned when you looked up at her. “I fear that if I tell him about you, I’ll be putting you in danger” you did not want your dad to hurt your girlfriend. Sabine sighed she bit her lip. The girl was thinking about what to say to you. She thought maybe meeting with Avalon might make you feel better, but she saw no safe way to do it. She also thought that maybe telling your dad about her without meeting might help, but she didn’t want to get you in trouble.

There was no way to tell your dad about her without some kind of trouble. You knew this too. You had reached that conclusion many times. Whenever you thought you had come up with a way to fix your problem it always ended with someone hurt or with you in trouble. “What do I do?” You put a hand up to your mouth when a sob escaped you. The horses neighed behind you, and they ran at the same time you sobbed. You hoped your girlfriend didn’t hear the sob, but she did.

Sabine quickly reacted upon hearing your sob “we will find a way to tell him.” She held her hand out it was an offer for comfort. You walked forward moving past her hand you went straight to her. You wanted a hug. She gave it to you. The girl held you close to her. “You won’t have to keep this secret forever” Sabine kissed the top of your head. She kept thinking of a way to meet with your dad. While she thought of a way you stayed in her arms.

You were doing your best not to cry. You did not want to cry and ruin the mood more than you already did. “Maybe you can-“ Sabine was interrupted by the sound of one single horse running back to you both. When you heard her cuss, you knew something was wrong. You quickly got out of her hold so you could see which horse was running back to you. It was your mare she let out a shrill neigh she bucked at the air. Where was Khaan?!

TY FOR READING! :D

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

PLEASE I’m such a slut for the specific way stu made paul go insane

So, as I said, I'm not allowed to write more of this until ILTY is finished but here's 660 words :^)

June-ish 1998, John AND Stu live AU and they decide to ruin Paul's already terrible day (helpfully!)

EDIT: the context which isn't explicit here yet is that this is basically the first time after Linda's death Paul finds himself completely alone at home because his kids are busy and it's a weekend so he can't go to the studio and bury his feelings in mountains of work.

“Surprise, Paulie!” John exclaimed, jumping up and spreading his arms out dramatically in a way that was completely unbefitting of a man dancing on the edge of sixty.

Paul McCartney gaped at his old friend, who was standing on the steps of Cavendish, feeling at a complete loss of words. They hadn’t talked since the funeral, which had – Paul could hardly believe it – taken place a full two months before. In lieu of saying ‘hello’, his mouth simply fell open in bewilderment, as an unnerving silence settled in between them.

In his mate’s eyes, Paul could see a growing uncertainty, betraying an incredible lack of foresight. Of course it wasn’t John who’d thought of this himself; this… What was it exactly? An intervention? Paul felt a chill run down his back at the very thought. He did not enjoy letting people care for him — well, not anymore at least.

Christ, he thought, as his eyes welled up immediately, though perhaps not as much as he would’ve expected. He was crying so often these days that he always seemed to be ‘running low on supplies’, as it were, ragged and worn like an old cloth that had been wrung one too many times.

As much as he still very much disliked crying in front of people – especially John, Christ! – if there was one thing Paul had learnt in the past weeks, it was that it was (likely) less of a problem than he had once feared.

You gotta let it out sometimes, Linda would say to him whenever she’d caught him upset, cupping his face and wiping those clandestine tears away. She’d always been able to intuit his fears and worries, like a sixth sense no one else on earth seemed to possess. It’s not healthy how you shove everything down, y’know? And he knew now, but Jesus, at what cost?

Still, Paul felt the need to at least tilt his head forwards as the tears began rolling down his cheeks, which, to his own credit, was definitely an improvement from his initial instinct to slam the door and sequester himself in his bedroom, where he had been moping about all morning anyway.

“… You all right, mate?” John’s worried tone betrayed the over-casual wording.

Paul didn’t respond. What would be the point? Of course he wasn’t.

“Should I…?” he heard John say with an heir of helpless defeat.

It set off an alarm in Paul’s mind because, despite all of this discomfort, of course he wanted John to stay. Hell, in that moment, he thought he might even let Allen Klein through the door, just to avoid the existential vortex of loneliness that lurked in the corners of the home he and Linda had made.

Nonetheless, Paul said nothing, haunted by memories of Linda standing on the very steps he was staring at, the steps John was standing on, awkwardly shifting his weight back and forth.

John let out a small gasp then turned around.

“Maybe we should–“

“You’re really giving up that fast, John?”

Paul’s head shot up, the sound of that second voice instilling a completely different but just as unwelcome emotion in him.

No, please tell me he didn’t bring–

At the bottom of the steps, slightly off to the side, stood none other than Stuart Sutcliffe, who’d apparently been standing there this whole time.

He’d always possessed the ability to blend in with his surroundings, his small stature and calm demeanour helping him go unnoticed if he so wished.

Paul watched the man nervously dragging his foot across the ground like a horse, nervous to get out of its stable.

On second thought, he felt stupid for not assuming from the start Stu had come along; it was, after all, completely within John’s nature to string along his various partners – in art, in love, and at times in literal crime – whenever he was doing something vaguely difficult or important.

But God, did he not want to have to deal with that.