#but i remember watching rebellion and this just stuck in my head for years

[kreuzwalt]

it’s THE homura scene for me

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 2)

WARNINGS: None

Word Count: 5k

—————

“Lady (Y/N)?”

I came back to myself suddenly, no longer stuck inside the memory of my introduction to Lord Tywin. Remembering that day made me even angrier than I had previously been. How on earth was I supposed to believe Baelish? Because either he was lying, or Tywin Lannister was desperate. Gods, the thought of denying him much needed assistance was a sweet one.

“Lady (Y/N), I understand that you aren’t fond of Lord Tywin, but I implore you to think not only of yourself. Look at your two siblings. Dare I say that they would very much appreciate this alliance,” Lord Baelish said, folding his fingers together in his usual manner. My eyes narrowed, because if there was one thing I would not stand it was being played. Not by this disgusting man, especially. 

“What are you getting at, Littlefinger? I’m not going to play Lord Tywin’s dirty game, nor yours just because you think-”

“Lord Baelish, would you permit us a few moments alone? To discuss this offer amongst ourselves,” Margaery interrupted, letting go of Loras and instead reaching out to touch my shoulder. I wondered how she tolerated having to manage her two older siblings. 

“Certainly, Lady Margaery. I would suggest that you take all the time you need, but it is also a rather urgent offer. Stannis intends to take Kings Landing, as you know,” he replied with his meek tone. Every time I heard Baelish speak I wanted nothing more than to press a blade to his throat and make him stop. 

I watched him leave the room, though the air of disturbance he had brought with him did not disappear. The second that the door closed, Margaery sighed out and turned to me, placing both of her hands on my arms. 

“(Y/N), I beg you to consider this. An alliance with House Lannister would be more than good for us, and if you’re honest with yourself you know I’m right. Sansa Stark’s betrothal to Joffrey is entirely irrelevant while her family is still in open rebellion, we could easily find a way to marry me to him. I could be queen. And Stannis Baratheon doesn’t stand a chance against both us and the Lannisters, which means that Loras would stop behaving… well, like this…” Margaery reasoned, pulling me aside and keeping her voice at a whisper. We both looked over at our brother who was sitting down at the table with his head in his hands. I’d never seen him like this before, and I couldn’t deny that it was distressing. 

“I… I understand where you’re coming from, Margaery, but this is Tywin Lannister and Petyr Baelish. The second that the war is won they’ll turn on us for rebelling against the crown, don’t you see that? Littlefinger and chaos go hand in hand, he isn’t here simply to ‘help’ us. And I don’t trust that Tywin Lannister is being genuine; I would rather die than believe otherwise,” I pointed out, grimacing at the idea of having to work alongside him. Margaery could see right through me, though. 

“I know how much you hate him, (Y/N), for the gods sake everyone in all seven kingdoms does. But you need to put that aside for House Tyrell. Remember that it took father almost an entire year to forgive you for what happened at Casterly Rock, and it was only because of grandmother's relentless convincing that he decided to let you represent House Tyrell in the Greyjoy Rebellion. Had it not been for that, who knows if he would’ve named you commander of our army. It is a title he can still revoke and give to Loras. However, if House Tyrell were to emerge from this war victorious because of a decision that you decided to make…” my sister reminded, not so subtly suggesting that if I played our cards right it might cement my position. I scowled, hating that she would use that logic on me.  

“Margaery, I don’t appreciate what you’re suggesting,” I muttered in reply, not hiding my glare whatsoever. My sister often played just as dirty as I did. 

“I know you don’t, and that’s why you’re going to listen.”

“It’s exactly why I’m not going to accept Lord Tywin’s offer, because it puts us in too much danger. I am not as foolish as Ned Stark, Margaery. When Kings Landing is safe and Robb Stark is dead, where will the lions turn their attention?” I questioned rhetorically, knowing that my sister understood all of the implications that came with us having chosen to back Renly. 

“Their attention will be on us no matter what we do, sister. But if we don’t ally with Tywin Lannister, they’ll be even more likely to remember it. If we help them defeat these enemies, the Lannisters will be certain to show us at least a little gratitude. And when I marry Joffrey and provide heirs, they’ll be forced to forget it. Plus, we would be reinforcing his claim. How many other houses are rushing to do that?” Margaery pointed out, giving me a sort of pleading look. She was pleading for me to see her side of it. To do the ‘right’ thing.

“If we join now, sister, I would be no better than Lord Tywin himself—sacking Kings Landing and ordering the murder of all the remaining Targaryens just so that King Robert would not distrust him,” I insisted wildly, making an excuse more than anything. I would never admit that, but deep down I knew it. 

“That is something entirely different, (Y/N), and no matter how good you are at lying it’ll never be good enough to fool yourself. You must put your anger aside. For me—for Loras! I am begging you, sister. I am begging you to be the reasonable, intelligent, and pragmatic leader that you usually are,” Margaery whispered, her stare so intense that I had to look away. I couldn’t recall a single time in my life that she had ever insisted upon something with such passion.

I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and shaking my head to myself. Gods, what was I doing? I swallowed, blinking a few times and then taking several strides to my writing desk. It was dark, but the light from the hearth was enough to see what I was doing as I reached for my ink and quill. 

I grabbed a sheet of parchment with a sort of resentment, taking my anger out on the poor material as I scratched down some irrelevant words of agreement and signed my name at the bottom of it. This was nothing but a formality, and I hated myself for doing even this. 

Both Margaery and Loras watched me roll the thing up and seal it with golden rose. There was a sort of gratitude in both of their eyes, and for just a moment it made me less angry about what I was doing. 

If I was going to go against my principles for anybody, it ought to be them. They were worth far more than Tywin Lannister, and that was a fact I had to continually repeat to keep myself from tearing the paper in my hands. 

I approached my door, opening it and being met with Ser Elias’ armored back for just a moment as he moved aside. Baelish stood there, and the smug look on his pathetic face almost made me reconsider. From the moment that he had suggested Stannis and my siblings, he had won. He knew that, otherwise he wouldn’t have been smiling. 

“Where does Lord Tywin intend to meet us?” I questioned, knowing that the upcoming battle was so restricted on time that we would need to meet somewhere. Littlefinger would’ve been instructed to tell me where, too. 

“Tumblers Falls, my lady.”

I made a noise of affirmation, promptly handing him my scroll. He gave his little bow in return, and my stomach sank as I watched him go down the hallway. It felt as though I had just sold my soul.

I shook the feeling away, turning around and looking back into the room. My acceptance of Lord Tywin’s proposal seemed to have revived my younger brother, for he was on his feet and more alert than he had been in hours. The prospect of killing Stannis Baratheon was ringing around in his head, I supposed. 

I sighed once more, giving him a nod.

“I’ll call the banners, Loras. Go wake father.”

—————

It was early in the morning when we met with Lord Tywin and Lord Randyll Tarly, neither of whom sparked any joy in those around them. As we had approached their camp and seen the banners flying, I wondered if this was perhaps the most miserable alliance in all of history. Although—even despite my deep anger and annoyance—the thought of Tywin Lannister and Randyll Tarly having dinner together and sitting in a grim, brooding silence was somewhat amusing. 

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” 

I turned to Loras, raising both eyebrows to signal that I hadn’t entirely processed what he’d said to me. He sighed and opened his mouth to speak again. “(Y/N), you mustn't let this grudge interfere with things. Pretend that this is your first time meeting Lord Tywin, or- or remind yourself that it’s been 11 years since you last saw him. I cannot imagine he bears any intense animosity toward you, you were only a girl when it happened,” he said, attempting to calm me.

“Well I still bear intense animosity toward him, even if it has been 11 years. I pray that you understand, Loras, how little I truly want to be a part of this alliance. I am doing it for you and Margaery alone, because I am your older sister and it is my job to see to your happiness. If it wasn’t for the two of you, I would’ve gladly declined this offer,” I grumbled, shifting in my armor. I had been wearing it so much lately that I wanted nothing more than to be entirely free of it, even if just for one entire day. 

“Well, if it’s any motivation, sister, I’m certain that father will be more than pleased once it’s all over. Perhaps he’ll even step back from our army entirely,” Loras added on, hoping that at least one thing could console me. I sighed, shaking my head. 

“I would’ve found another way to make father entrust me entirely.”

“Perhaps, but this way is the best.”

As we entered the encampment, Loras and I instantly stopped all conversation, continuing on with just a few bannermen as the rest of our army settled in with my father. He was at the back, of course, just as most seasoned lords were. It seemed the older one got, the more comfortable they became leading men from the back. My father did it, and so would Randyll Tarly and Tywin Lannister. Loras and I would lead the vanguard, though. I had no doubt about that. 

It was no difficult task to find Tywin Lannister’s tent, and the two of us dismounted rather gracefully. It was a sort of Tyrell appearance that we meant to keep up. People never suspect roses of anything, which was perhaps one of the most advantageous things about our house. 

“Sister, if you should like it, I can speak with Lord Tywin in your place. I don’t want you to become too aggravated,” Loras offered quietly as we approached the entrance. I instantly shook my head.

“No, thank you. I’m hateful, not incompetent.” 

The guards stationed outside Lord Tywin’s tent obviously knew who we were, for it did not take any real common sense to decipher us: two obviously rich young adults dressed in armor and green capes. They announced our names and then opened the flaps of the tent, holding them until Loras and I were completely inside. 

As I entered, I instantly set my eyes upon my sworn enemy. I could not even process that this man was an ally, seated at the table and gazing down at his map. His hair was almost entirely white now, though it had a sort of blonde shine. His beard still had a bit more color, but was distinctly white along the edges. I noted the same piercing eyes when he did us the ‘honor’ of looking up. 

“Lady (Y/N), Ser Loras, thank you for coming,” he said casually, only holding our gazes long enough to be appropriate. I suddenly noticed the two men beside him, and based on their attire realized that they were Kevan Lannister and Randyll Tarly. 

“Of course, Lord Tywin. Nothing should please us more than an alliance to stop a common enemy,” Loras spoke first, using the term ‘us’ rather loosely in my opinion. I supposed there was some truth, though. I greatly sympathized with my brother and hoped that whatever grief he was processing would partly be healed by this endeavor. 

“We intend to move out in just over an hour. We should be there in time to surprise them and attack before they manage to cross the Blackwater Rush and reach the mud gate,” Lord Tywin said, rising from his seat. Lord Tarly did the same, and gave the Old Lion a simple nod before leaving the tent. I assumed they had previously discussed something. 

Kevan Lannister had remained at the table, and I found myself drifting toward the map and examining our plans for the evening. Seeing a fault, I looked up to find Lord Tywin already staring at me. He had not moved from the table, he had only stood up.

“Any criticisms for me this time, Lady (Y/N)?” He asked, voice icy and eyes equally so. I pressed my fists into the parchment as childish irritation found its way back to me.

“Yes, but I’ll try and make it constructive, my lord. Perhaps, by some miracle, you’ll be more responsive this time,” I scowled, trying my hardest to not be utterly disrespectful. I could tell by the look on Loras’ face that it was not a successful attempt.

“How reassuring it is, Lady (Y/N), to know that you’ve lost some of your vanity and ego,” Lord Tywin replied, face as firm as the stones that comprised Casterly Rock. Had I focused on anything but Lord Tywin, I would’ve realized that both Loras and Lord Kevan were open mouthed and ready to intervene should this conversation become explosive. 

“The sentiment is mutual, Lord Tywin.”

The two of us stared at each other for a good minute, neither relenting or breaking eye contact. Just as Lord Kevan stood up to speak, the Old Lion decided that he did not want assistance in this conversation.

“I have earned my pride, Lady (Y/N). Forgive me, but I find myself doubting how truthfully the same can be said of you,” he not-so-subtly insulted, his jaw emboldening with his anger. I felt my own teeth pressing together just before I replied.

“Quite truthfully, Lord Tywin, and if you have the decency to not be an insufferable cunt for once and actually listen to me, perhaps tonight’s battle can be added to the list of achievements that both of us have the right to feel proud of,” I snarled, serving the Lord of the Rock the brutally honest statement that he was so seemingly asking for. 

Loras attempted to put his hand out to me, but my sharp glare instantly made him freeze. Once he had, my eyes were once again on Lord Tywin. There was a glimmer of amusement, anger, and challenge in his eyes. I waited with angry anticipation for whatever he might say next.

With only a brief glance at his younger brother, something shifted. He decided to yield, simply moving around the table and standing beside me. I did not doubt he was furious, but I also knew that he understood the significance of our alliance and did not care so much to insult me as he cared to join the two largest armies in Westeros. 

“Go on then, girl. What would you have us do?”

His usage of the word ‘girl’ sparked fury just as he intended, but I knew it was now my turn to compromise despite that. And gods, it took so much strength. 

“Lord Tywin, based on the blocks you have laid out, I take it that you intend to have your troops north of the river?”

“Correct.”

“And that you would have Randyll Tarly accompany both the vanguard and my father south of the river?”

“Correct. What is your point?” Lord Tywin questioned, annoyance ingrained in his voice. I scowled, wishing he would learn to be patient for a single time in his miserable existence. 

“My point is that Randyll Tarly has the smallest number of men out of the three houses. The narrow stretch of land in front of the mud gate is too small for Stannis Baratheon to land any significant number of men on. What he is obviously going to do is have men land south of the river and take smaller boats to the mud gate while cannons from his ships attempt to batter the walls. It would be wisest for us to focus most men south of the river, for while our ships combat Stannis’ we need to prevent the rest of his soldiers from reaching the mud gate at all. We ought to have Randyll Tarly go on the north side of the river and instead join our two armies south of it. That, plus our collective vanguard, will prevent the continued crossing of the river. Plus, King Joffrey’s men will also be at the mud gate to assist Lord Tarly,” I explained, motioning with the different sigil blocks as I did. There was something inexplicably exciting about battle strategies. 

Lord Tywin thought about all that I had said entirely in silence, and after a moment he turned to look at his younger brother. Lord Kevan cleared his throat, nodding.

“It would be smart, Tywin. Lady Tyrell is correct in assuming that most of Stannis’ men will be south of the river. If we plan to move out earlier so we can beat them to it, we ought to make sure it’s effective once we do get there.”

There was another moment of silence, and then the older man beside me finally nodded. He seemed resentful that I had actually had a good idea, and it gave me satisfaction to see him bothered, even if it was subtly. Although, I had to admit that there was something else in his eyes. Almost like a look of revelation. 

“There is something else, my lords. Loras?”

My brother stepped toward the table, swallowing a bit anxiously. I did not blame him, the environment was unreasonably tense.

“I have the armor of Renly Baratheon. I believe that- well, if I were to wear it, perhaps some of the men that decided to join Stannis after his death will believe that he has come back and join our side,” Loras explained, making both of the lions raise their eyebrows. It was a clever idea, it could not be denied. Loras and I had discussed it before leaving Highgarden.

“A clever thought, Ser Loras. Perhaps that will be helpful,” Lord Kevan nodded, turning to his kin. Lord Tywin said nothing but similarly seemed appreciative. I wondered whether or not he would look so content if he knew it had truthfully been my idea. 

“Yes, perhaps. Kevan, would you inform Lord Tarly of the change in plans?” he asked his brother after a moment. Lord Kevan of course nodded and left us alone. I similarly whispered to Loras that he ought to prepare our own men to be moving out shortly, it was approaching noon and I expected it would be about half a day's ride to Kings Landing. We should want to be there at about dusk. 

Then it was only Lord Tywin and I in the tent. He had moved away from the map and toward a separate table. 

“Do you drink?” He asked suddenly, pouring himself a cup of wine. The question appeared odd to me, because of course I did. Who did not?

“Not before battles, my lord. When I have no height or strength advantages, my wits is all I have,” I told him, reasoning that perhaps he had meant to add ‘before battles’ at the end of his sentence. The Old Lion nodded.

“You’ve done well with them. Even if your temper has not simmered, nor your manners improved, you have at least become smarter,” he said, raising his cup to his lips. My eyes narrowed at him, and I wondered if it was possible for him to go even a minute without being utterly rude and annoying.

“Well, I would thank you if I was unaware of that fact. It is no wonder that I have gotten smarter, I have acquired more experience. And rest assured, Lord Tywin, it is only you that receives such ill-treatment,” I told him, fixing my gloves and flexing my hands to adjust. The leather was pleasant against the bitter cold, but the anger in me was causing a rising body temperature, and it was becoming uncomfortable.

“Ah yes, this treatment is reserved for insufferable cunts, is that it?” He shot back, hoping to make me feel small for calling him such a thing. How genuinely pathetic of him.

“Precisely. It’s good to know you still have your wits about you, Lord Tywin,” I affirmed, keeping my rock hard glare on him as he took a step closer and towered over me. I wanted to laugh, for he had attempted the same thing when I was a girl.

“You’d better be careful, Lady (Y/N). House Tyrell is an ally now, but that does not mean I’m going to accept your insults and childish behavior,” he said, speaking low and deep. 

“You forget, Lord Tywin, that my armies greatly outnumber yours. I will fight with you for my family, but nothing could ever possess me to feel civil towards you,” I replied, not afraid of his icy eyes. I would not take disrespect, nor would I ever permit myself to feel an ounce of fear. I was the Nightshade of the Garden now, not some 14 year old girl.

Tywin stayed quiet for a moment, and then turned around and walked a few steps to drink from his cup. As he set it down, he looked back at me and sighed with a sort of frustration. 

“Nothing at all?”

“Nothing.”

His eyes narrowed as though he was attempting to figure something out, and even if it was just a normal kind of observation, I immediately felt that he was scrutinizing me. It made me even more bitter, because after all, it wasn’t as though he was an adored man. Even he was not so prideful as to think that. 

“May I ask you something, Lady Tyrell?”

“No.”

“Why is it that you continue to hate me so much? I understand that you did not appreciate being informed of the fact that at the age of 14 you were not all knowing, but since that day I have done nothing more to slight you or your family. You, on the other hand, have been quite vocal about your contempt for me even despite it having been 11 years. So I ask, why?”

I stared at him rather seriously for a moment before laughing to myself in disbelief. Was he truly being serious? Why did I hate him? 

“I will be fighting in the vanguard with my brother tonight, Lord Tywin. I will see you after the battle, I’m certain. Men like you never actually partake in the fighting, after all,” I said, suddenly transforming into my sister as I gave him the most utterly charming smile that I could. He would expect anger from me, and so being polite would naturally frighten him more. 

I turned around to leave then, but his voice was sharp and clear in my ears.

“I have asked you a question, Lady Tyrell.”

Lady Tyrell… it was a title that I enjoyed hearing, but for some reason—that I assumed was my hatred—I could not stand hearing it from him. Gods, it sounded horrible coming from him. I almost wished he would revert back to ‘girl’. I had a feeling, however, that even despite his anger, manners would prevent him from any long term usage of it. I was a lady, after all. If he was going to be cruel to me, he was going to do it properly. 

“And I made it quite clear, Lord Lannister, that I have no intention of answering it. I will see you after the battle, my lord. Should you be in need of any more dire assistance from my family, you know where to find us,” I replied curtly, not giving him any opportunity to reply as I left his tent. I felt blood rushing to my face with a familiar anger.

Gods, I could not wait for this damned war to be over so I could return to Highgarden and never have to see the man again. And to be certain of that fact, I would pray for peace in the realm until he was dead. If only the gods would be so kind.

—————

“Does everything fit alright, Loras?” I asked, running my hands over his armor to make sure each part was properly in place. So far as I could tell, Renly’s armor fit him perfectly. 

“Yes, it fits just as well as my own. I fear the only thing that might not fit so well is his helm. His head was always far bigger than mine…” Loras trailed off, reaching for it and holding it in both of his hands. I could tell that looking at the helm took him somewhere else, perhaps deep into a memory. 

Seeing him this way calmed me, for it made this wretched alliance seem worth it. Even if Tywin Lannister was the worst cunt in all seven kingdoms, my brother deserved this. He deserved to avenge Renly and he deserved to shame Stannis. If this alliance meant he got those two things, then so be it. I would agree to it a million times for that, even despite my initial fury. 

I watched Loras pull the helm on then, and even though it was not a precise fit, it was good enough that there was no need to worry about it coming off during battle. For a moment, it was almost like I was looking at Renly again, and it was an odd sensation. Renly and I had been on good terms throughout the time of our alliance, and I had been saddened by his death to be certain. Wars just made it difficult to properly mourn anybody. 

“You know… even if I was only one of his knights and advisors, I was happy that way. Always with him, or at least near him. Gods, after my initial jealousy over his marriage to Margaery, that made me happy too. Their marriage would’ve meant he was never far,” Loras noted somberly, looking at himself in the mirror. Looking at Renly in the mirror.

It was an interesting thought, and one that I’d never considered before. The only reason that I had been happy about his marriage to Margaery was because it meant that it wasn’t to me. It had taken my father far too much convincing, and I was grateful that Renly hadn’t been offended by the second daughter. After all, he was a third son. Well, it was irrelevant. Margaery had always been better suited to marriage than I, and she had saved me from it. 

“Oh Loras…”

I had wanted to say something more to comfort my brother, but I found that nothing would come out. I had not a clue what to say to him, much to my frustration. Loras only reached for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze of understanding. I was glad that he understood my sympathies. 

Just then, the flaps of our tent burst open and a young squire came in carrying my sword. The boy looked quite young, and it made me wary for a moment. How could a boy this young be trusted to do anything of real importance? Though, when I thought about it he was probably 14 or so. 

“Lady Tyrell, your sword. It’s been… it’s been coated in the poisons just as you asked. Ser Elias showed me how to do it before we left Highgarden,” the boy said, laying the sword down on a table as he attempted to catch his breath. He’d been running around, I presumed. 

“Thank you, young man. I’m certain Ser Elias taught you well.”

As the boy bowed his head and rushed out, I sighed. Gods, I missed Ser Elias. Even though he wasn’t anything close to a squire, he often took on such jobs because he knew that I trusted him more than anybody else. He had been with me when I’d learned how to use poisons and such as a young girl, and he’d picked it up just as quickly. There was never a doubt of his quality.

I moved over to the table, unsheathing my sword about halfway and inspecting the gleam. Yes, it had been done well enough. I pushed the weapon back in, a small smile emerging on my face. My use of poisons, especially when it came to weaponry, had become somewhat renowned throughout the seven kingdoms after the Greyjoy Rebellion. 

My father had originally had no intention to support Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark, but I had seen the opportunity for what it was. After remaining loyal during the king’s own rebellion, I knew that our ties to the crown were among some of the weakest, and to help suppress the Greyjoys would strengthen them. Of course, I had only been 15 at that time, and so it had taken quite a bit of convincing from both me and my grandmother in order for my father to grant me the privilege of leading men. The agreement had been that I would be given a host of around a thousand men, and that I was only to lead from the back—something I had not honored whatsoever.

When the rebellion had been successfully crushed, many tales began to spread about the 15 year old Tyrell girl who, at the head of her vanguard, charged straight into the battle and fearlessly plowed through man after man. And not only had I done that, but I’d also instructed all my men to coat their swords in poison. Thus, I was granted both command of the Tyrell army—for my father could hardly refuse me after I’d proven my skill and improved relations with the crown—and the nickname ‘the Nightshade of the Garden’. 

In my opinion, it was quite fitting. Well, fitting enough once I managed to look past the fact that nightshade is a consumed poison. I certainly had no desire to kill anybody that way. Not yet, at least. Spending too much time around Tywin Lannister and his family might be exactly the thing to change my mind. All I could do was pray that this war would be over soon enough, and the first step toward ending it would be tonight. For that reason, I prayed that my brother would get his wish: to see Stannis Baratheon dead by dawn. 

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady 

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul 

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8 

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice 

@muscari-fae @lostgirllulu 

@abigfanofgameofthrones @smalltownbigheart 

@frombloodandflesh @supernaturalismyreligion666

@thanyatargaryen @rey26 @hexandale @pkawaiidesu5394 @aimsro @gbatesx

[miqojak]

About Me/People I'd Like to Know Better

Last song: Really, I've been listening to a lot of Fallout songs, I don't know that there's a 'last one' because even out of game, I've got Fallout playlists on! But Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall has been stuck in my head, in particular, as well as Mighty Mighty Man. I love jazz, though - swing always makes me want to get up and move! So...Fallout music really hits a sweet spot for me.

Favorite color: Green! Most shades of it, though I have a fondness for lime green!

Currently reading: Not actively reading at present, I stopped in the middle of one of the Padme Amidala books a bit back, though - and I was loving reading about her pre-movies! It really puts into perspective what a badass she was, and why she was never a damsel in distress. She had a squad of highly trained assassin hand-maids around her and a contingency for everything, PLUS she was a woman of the people! Her books have made her one of my top favorite characters in the whole of the Star Wars universe - I'd have loved to see what she would have accomplished in the rebellion!

Currently watching: I just finished the new Fallout show, and I'm planning on catching up on Bad Batch here soon.

Sweet/savoury/spicy?: I have a notorious sweet tooth, but I'm also a huge fan of spicy - but as you get older, your body HATES spicy stuff...so enjoy it while you can!

Relationship status: Living with a platonic partner of 10 years

Last thing you googled: An image editor! I was trying to make the mayqo'te prompt list look more pretty than...just a list of words on a tumblr post.

Current obsession: Fallout 76 and SWTOR! After furiously charging through the whole SWTOR MSQ, I'm really swept up in a galaxy far, far away and how good the writing is and how much I love the branching choices that matter, and are remembered in the MSQ! (Plus there's free character housing on the 'battlepass' this time around, and it's one of the best ones yet...) Fallout 76 is free until May 15th, with Amazon Prime...so I picked up a code on the 76 Reddit and I have been LOVING it! The players are super nice, and it's just...fun? Making guns, armor, wandering the wasteland...building a joint house + roadside convenience store out in the world wherever I want! It has really sucked me in. @ungrateful-cyborg and @briar-ffxiv tagged me in very similar things, so I combined them, since only about 2 things were different!

I dunno who hasn't done it, so I'll toss a few names out that are in my notifs - do it if you want, and forgive me if you've been tagged already!! @wpip-raham @xmimiteh @uldahstreetrat @illia-ast @why-raven @littlestcreampuff @hares-and-hounds @cosmicharm @dragonsongmakhali @thedawnforged @starforger @selnyam @madalyn-maeve

[thatninjacat27]

Bad Ending Future Au Details

Just everything about the au that I have. I’m probably won’t revisit this but anyone is more than welcome to use this.

(The ao3 link above and below is basically the same thing)

So this is based on everything up to the ending part with Nine getting captured by the Chaos Council in Season 1 Episode 8. (This au was created before the second half of the season was released) Also Rusty Rose somehow ends up back in New Yoke City still on the Chaos Council’s side.

So Nine is stuck as a prisoner being force to work and invent stuff to help out the council. He’s been there for a long time without seeing Sonic(the whole ‘time passes differently in other world’ thing) and the council is plotting to use Sonic for the reason stated in the show(I don’t remember exactly what it was but it involved prism and speed). They developed a bullet to slow the hedgehog down temporarily so they can capture him and do their thing.

The whole time they are doing this, they are trying to flip Nine to their side/stay with them with a bit of manipulation but the fox see through most of it. Emphasize on most of it. They nearly convince him that a slower Sonic would make it easier for him to stay with him. The intention was so that Sonic would stay in the world containing New Yoke City where the council could control him but Nine is thinking like that’s not a bad idea but make the location The Grim and then it’s a perfect idea.

So Nine begins to constantly think about it and before he can have a completely solid proof plan, Sonic tries to bust him out of the headquarters. It’s part of the Resistance’s plan. Nine end up taking the untested(they were still developing it and didn’t quite plan for Sonic to arrive anytime soon) prototype bullet and puts it in his gun before he leaves.

(This part is fuzzy but bear with me) They have some sort of conversation that kinda turns into an argument a bit. Nine does warn Sonic about him pulling the trigger but Sonic doesn’t quite understand(an unintentional reference to Tails warning Sonic about the trap but Sonic doesn’t understand). Nine shoots Sonic in the chest which kills him.(medical attention arrived too slow) Nine couldn’t really do anything to help and also stood still in disbelief. It’s pretty bloody scene and Sonic looks at him so betrayed. This event really messes up Nine for the rest of his life.

The Chaos Council is slightly upset but is ultimately okay with the loss. Now Sonic can’t stop them anymore and they have the genius who made it possible to travel to other worlds with them.

Soon(like in the same day) the resistance/rebellion falls because Nine has already made the robots much better at there job. All the freedom fighters get arrested and Rebel and Knucks have been mind wiped as examples.(Nine watched this happened and saw them confessed their love for each before the wipe and now they are complete strangers on the street)

Everyone who did keep their memories now keeps more in line than before. Nine is seen and known as a traitor and everyone avoids him more than they did in the beginning. Since he works for/with the council, the people are also very afraid to get on his bad side because he becomes more temperamental. Also the council declares that day as a holiday to be celebrated by all. (Nine just goes to a bar with Rusty(she’s like a bodyguard/babysitter/person that watches to make sure that he doesn’t try anything funny like running away or helping the rebels if any left(I couldn’t find the world for it on the top of my head))and drinks juice boxes to numb the pain).

The years go by as Nine continuously works on ways for the council to conquer other worlds. He meets the other Tails that had met Sonic and hears about what happened there. It’s complicated what happens when they ask about Sonic when they learn that he knew him too.

Nine continues to have nightmares throughout those years about Sonic’s death and his guilt about it and how he copes with it(see part 1 and 2 of this series). Rusty Rose is the only one who takes care of him and wants to. She has had something of a glitch(think about when she sees her pirate counterpart in that pirate episode) and it’s made her want to take care of Nine for all those years after Sonic’s death but Nine doesn’t believe it’s real because of some of the obvious manipulation the council has done. She just wants to be like his big sister.

The council begins to care about Nine after many years of him working there side by side. (Nine still is pretty sassy and tells stuff straight up and stopped getting punished for it a while.)

Dr. Eggman and Dr. Deep have kinda adopted him into the family. I mean they all live in the same place and eat together so. Nine doesn’t care anymore.(he also does not give a fuck about anyone anymore especially those other Tails). Insert the bonding activities.

After the old man eggman(I think his name was Dr. Done it) dies, the seat gets kinda offered to Nine and he accepts because like what else is there to life anymore. It isn’t a happy ending.

That’s it for the story.

Bonus notes:

Nine doesn’t give a fuck.

Nine is like a free range prisoner.

Nine plays cards with Dr. Don’t and co and wins a lot. He cheats and counts cards. The Casinos in the other world have all banned him.

Shadow is still around. He accidentally went through another shard when he was with Sonic and got stuck on that world. Nine and he meet way down the line and the talk about what happened to Sonic will be an interesting conversation to say the least.

Nine’s nightmares often involve The Grim, Sonic, him shooting Sonic, sometimes his original reaction of shooting Sonic, being compared to the og Tails, and a twisted dead version of Sonic kinda terrorizing/telling him what’s up.

Metal Sonic exists and he was built by Nine and the Council gave some input and feedback. (Probably after Nine joined the council)

[summerspice222]

Something Royal Blue: a Selection story ch 1 (read on wattled for more)

My family had been financially unstable for as long as I could remember. But, when we got the Selection letter from the palace, they assumed that we could coast our way through our problems and I could find love at the same time. 

We weren't surviving off of three meals a day like some families in Whites were, we would occasionally skip a dinner or two a week just to save extra money for taxes, bills, and whatnot. That's all I'd known since I was four or five years old when the caste systems had been disassembled. I didn't know what life was like all over the country, but it was even more difficult to feel equal with everyone in Whites. Not many people easily adjusted to "equality" that was bestowed among us. Former Two's would refuse to pay their taxes, they complained that the tax rate was too high. While former Sixes were struggling to keep the heat on during the coldest months. 

Mom says that the disassembling of the castes was needed with the dangerous rebellion against the royal family. But honestly, I'm not sure much changed. Queen America's work of disassembling the castes was, and still is, heavily applauded by many people. But there are still outbursts and riots in the streets. People saying that the next step to equality is to take down the monarchy.

Mom says that the rebellion is starting again, but this time no one wants to maim or distract the crown. They only want to hurt it.

"Those vigilantes had almost killed King Maxon." My mother would curse whenever we'd hear about the 'new rebellion'. She would shake her head and say "Somehow, the lack of the caste system convinces the people of Illea that there is still a social hierarchy. Those former twos need to get up to date with the times."

These days, Five's weren't confined to artistry and Three's weren't confined to education. Everyone in the country got to choose their profession by the time they turned 18, but we were all taxed at the same rate. Leaving the poor and starving even more poor and starving, and allowing the wealthier families to add a 'tax day' to their calendars. 

Unfortunately for me, my family stuck with the inherited jewelry business. According to dad, sticking with the business our family passed down for generations helped us "stick to our roots". This earned us substantial amounts of money, along with occasional commissions from high paying customers. Since Whites is always packed with snow, I trained skiers on the side for some extra money to bring home.

But when dad got sick, we started drowning in hospital bills and treatment plans. To overnight hospital stays and radiation therapy. The doctors sucked up thousands of dollars from my family, all pooled into an empty drain. Nothing could fix how sick dad was.

When we got the letter, my mom shoved it in my hands and sternly suggested that I should fill it out. Even Amber, my older sister, knew that mom really meant that I had to fill it out or I she'd loathe me for the months to come. 

My mom and I don't agree on much, but strangely I agreed with her about the Selection. I believed that signing up for it would help our current financial problems and save us from having to sell our house. But, my family doesn't realize that I do have standards, I'm not willingly going to throw myself onto a prince with 31 other girls. 

Though I had never met him, Prince Kaden had the tendency to come off as proper and uninteresting. Every week when my family sat and watched The Report, my older sister Amber liked to note that, "he looks like he's sitting with a stick up his ass". 

In my head, there are many pro's and con's to even entering the Selection. Con, I don't want to attempt fall in love with someone I don't know and presents himself as bland as toast. Con, I can't ski in Angeles (not that it really mattered, but it was needed on the list). Con, there was no way I'd make it past the first week in the palace. I tend to make a mess no matter where I end up. Pro, the palace gave money to your family once a week if you were selected. Pro, I could help pull my family up with me. I took that as my only positive spin on this whole situation. 

The thought of the Selection just made my head spin. Why would the royal family let 32 girls, who are just regular citizens and total strangers, stay in their home. Let alone watch their son and brother date 32 girls all at once. 

Many of the girls in Whites adored the prince and had been hoping for years that he'd hold a Selection. I'd always overhear the "prince chatter" while I was on the slopes. My coworkers would often drop Prince Kaden's name into conversation when they were debriefing The Report. From my perspective, it seemed that all of the women of Whites would give their lives to be in the presence of a royal. 

I denied that Prince Kaden would even have a Selection. He was second in line for the throne, after his sister, Queen Eadlyn. The Queen had been married for about 5 years now and I thought it was odd that Queen Eadlyn and King Erik hadn't produced an heir yet. Not that I was waiting for them to, but any child of theirs would be able to assume the throne.

I hid in my room when I heard that other girls were receiving their letters. It was one of my anxiety habits, whenever a problem occurred in my life, I'd tuck myself away until the problem was gone. Or at least I tried to.

I sat at my desk, which was positioned in front of my bedroom window. A cold draft blew into my room due to the lack of insolation in the house. I didn't care though, I just loved the view from it. I could see the buildings of the small village I lived in, the square, the mountain lodge, into the frosty tundra that I called home. 

Whites was beautiful and just like the province's name suggested, it was very, very environmentally white. On a good year, it snowed 263 days out of the 365 days in a year. The fishing families ended up ice-fishing in the winter months and, thankfully, ski coaches were employed all year round.

I tapped a pen against my design pad. A high paying customer was expecting mock-ups of an engagement ring by the end of the week, they'd offered me over 200 Illean dollars to get the design finished within a week. 

As I finished sketching the ring, I heard footsteps approach my door. I was good at listening to the shuffling that occurred within my household. It was cozy enough to hear conversations echo in rooms, to hear doors open and close, and it gave no member of my family the perfect amount of privacy anywhere. If there was a secret to tell, there would be a high chance that my family already knew about it. 

Amber knocked on my door the way she always did, with three brief musical taps. "Maddisyn! I know you're hauling yourself up in your room to avoid it'' 

My sister knew all of my tendencies. She especially paid attention to the negative ones, like avoiding my problems and consuming myself in my work. I'm not completely sure she saw any good tendencies in me. 

Sighing, I stood up from my desk and walked over to the door. For all my life, Amber was never one to let herself into a room unless she knocked. I always ask why she doesn't just walk in, we're family after all. She claimed that she always knocks because it's polite. However, I assume it's because she's still traumatized from walking in on her twin, Asher, having sex when they were just teenagers. 

I spun my chair to look over at Amber. "What am I avoiding?"

"Your letter," Amber rolled her eyes and pointed to the thick envelope resting on my bed. "It's been sitting there for three days Maddi"

"Wow...has it really been that long because I swore I just got it-" 

"I already have mine filled out. I finished it last night" Amber wore a wide smile. She was 20, two years older than me. If she was a year older, she would be unable to participate in the Selection. For her, signing up would mean she saw the Selection as a way to escape the jewelry store and possibly start over. Knowing my sister, of course she'd hop on the first opportunity to rearrange her life. 

"Amber," I grumbled. "I'm waiting until mom gets home to open my letter, I've told you this multiple times" 

My sister's smile turned to a smirk. "It must be that time of month for you Maddi. Hopefully the prince can handle your bitchy attitudes. If you even get Selected, that is." Amber turned on her heel and practically skipped to her room to rinse a day in the design studio off of her. 

I stared at my letter once again, it had been sitting there for days. Even though Amber had already opened hers, I wanted to know if mine was any different. The white envelope had blue floral designs around the perimeter. My name was printed in neat calligraphy: Maddisyn Dean. I traced the embedded pattern with my finger. The palace must've sent out thousands, possibly millions, of these all around Illea. Any woman ages 16-20 was eligible to be chosen for the Selection. The calligraphers probably had to prepare months in advance just to get each letter sent out in time.

Mom got home from a last minute meeting with a client who decided she wanted a commissioned necklace as soon as possible. I heard the front door close just around 6:30. In my opinion it was perfect timing, Amber kept going on and on listing reasons why I should sign my letter. Most of her reasons were because she signed her letter. 

Her constant nagging made me question whether or not I should just tell her that the prince wasn't her type at all and even if she was selected, she can't have any of her sexual fantasies come true over the duration of the Selection due to the no sexual interactions rule (which I completely made up to get her off my ass). 

"Girls!" My mom hollered as she set down her purse filled to the brim with sketch pads, pens, beads, and pliers. Her dark brown hair was streaked with gray from her age, but she still looked as lively and young as ever. 

All of my siblings looked like my mom, dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, a sharp nose, and a 'fragile figure like a porcelain doll' as grandma liked to call it. But unlike the rest of us, I had a freckled face like dad had. I always was complemented on my looks, but living with four other people who look like you doesn't really make you feel that special. 

Both mom and I were never considered tall, Amber and Ashton got their height from dad. Ashton is Amber's twin brother. They're both two years older than me, but unlike Amber, Ashton was always dating girls. After dad had passed away, Ashton just couldn't wait to get married to the "love of his life" only four months after they had met. He moved across the country to Carolina just days after he got married. I guess we all had different ways of coping with dad's death. 

We sat down for dinner and that's when all the Selection, princess, and money commotion started. Mom had set down dinner, a small salad and pasta, and she walked right over to her seat. I glanced at Amber as she leaned back in her chair and she smiling at me deviously.

"Mom," Amber started, pouting. "Maddi got her letter and she won't open it." 

Unbothered by Amber's comment, mom dished out salad onto her plate, "Now, Amber, don't you think that it's Maddisyn's decision whether or not she opens her letter?" Mom and Amber both turned their heads to me, smiling innocently. Their stares silently willed me to intervene in their conversation. 

I waved my fork between the two of them. "Listen you two, I don't have to open the letter just because I have it. I have a choice of joining, you know."

"But-" Amber started.

Mom grabbed Amber's hand, "No, Maddisyn is right honey. She doesn't have to open the letter if she doesn't want to." 

I wish I could say that we ate the rest of dinner in peace, talking about our new clients and the pieces from the wholesaler that had recently arrived at our store. But, dinner continued on silently. Eventually, both mom and Amber's eyes ended up on me again, staring into the depths of my soul. They both knew that by silently pressuring me to open my letter I'd do it, my curiosity always got the best of me. 

I let out a long sigh. "It's in my room. Give me until the end of the week, at least. I just need time to think about all of this." I stood up from the table and cleaned off my plate. The thought of the letter was imprinted in my brain now. I told my sister and mom "goodnight" and practically ran up the stairs to my room, eager to open my letter.

I opened the envelope slowly, my anticipation rose. I think I was secretly hoping that the letter would say, 'Congratulations, you made it in! you're selected to move away from home and cat fight with 31 other girls!' or 'Sorry, unable to proceed in the process because you don't like the prince'. 

But to my dismay, it didn't have any definite yes or no answer. I slid out the letter and unfolded it. The paper was nice, thick, it felt hand-made like the craft paper the shop next to us sold. I quickly scanned the letter, hoping my eye would catch on anything that spoke about giving up your spot or what happens if you're chosen and you want to give up your spot. It did not. So I read it over once more. 

The gossip around Whites was true, for once. The letter did note that I would be given a 'generous compensation' for every week I stayed at the palace. I'd be fed three meals a day plus, tea and snacks would be provided at our convenience. I'd be dressed accordingly to the style at the palace, be in the safest hands of the country, and possibly meet the world's greatest diplomats (and possibly my husband). At least I wouldn't have to worry about starving and I definitely wouldn't have to worry about my family starving if we were paid extra.  

We weren't making thousands of dollars each month in the jewelry industry, so an extra boost of money for my family would keep me sane. But, did I really want to get forced into a relationship with a guy I had never met? Not necessarily. I mean if I signed the form I could be picked and I could help my family pay back bills and pay taxes. Then I would also get to live at the palace, with all of the dresses and glamor. I would get to live safely and get to date a prince. I guess that sounds nice. But there'd be 32 girls out of the whole country of Illèa being picked to compete for love, I wasn't necessarily one to gravitate towards girl drama. 

Three soft taps landed on my window. I snapped out of my circle of overthinking and peeked outside. Violet stood outside in jeans, a heavy wool sweater, her warmest boots, and a heavy jacket. I was still in my clothes from work. Quickly, I changed into something a little bit more comfortable and rushed downstairs to let there in. For years, Violet would meet at my house to talk about the shops, any new guys we saw, and we'd often debate the fresh snow and whether or not it was good enough to ski. Violet and I sat on my floor, sprawled out on a soft blanket. Violet sat next to me and took off her boots. 

"So, I'm guessing you want to talk about it?" I asked. 

Violet laughed. "That's exactly why I came, to talk about doing it. I have my prospects lined up, there's James from the ski team, Ian from the library, and Alexander."

"Vi I didn't mean sex. I meant the letter" 

"And you're signing it right?" Violet asked hopefully glancing at me. Looking at my expression, her smile dropped and she asked again, "You're signing it, right Maddisyn?" 

"Well-" I started.

"You're not signing?" she said, frustrated.

"Don't you think that it's just a little weird that Illea is hand-picking 32 girls to fall in love with the prince in front of the whole country?" I asked Violet. She just absently blinked at me like I'd just said the stupidest thing ever.

"No, it's not that weird. You overthink too much Maddisyn. It's an opportunity for Prince Kaden to find a bride and it's also an opportunity for the country to get to know their possible future ruler better. And yes, I guess there's the falling in love part too" Violet stated tossing a braid over her shoulder.

I let out a long sigh, "You know, you somehow always have a way of being right."

"So, it's a maybe then?" Violet asked, still hopeful. We sat in silence for a few seconds. My mind swirled around the obviously valid points Violet had just made. 

After minutes of silence, Violet cleared her throat. "Anyway, let's talk about Adrianna's new competition...Bakery 47 just opened down the road and I've heard that their muffins taste way better than her family bakery. I also heard that Sabina is sleeping with Luke, the baker's son and she says that he's four inches on a good day..." 

We burst out laughing and started talking about my new clients and commissions and her new studies and occasionally, the students we'd been training recently. Sometimes Violet would stay over and we'd go to the slopes in the mornings. But she chose her career to be in education. She had become a new teacher assistant at a university, so she had to make sure she had a good schedule. I tightly hugged Violet, hoping that she'd stay warm in the bitterness of the night..

"Maddi, please let me know when you fill out the form. I know you want to and I want to send ours in together." Violet whispered. I nodded my head in agreement. 

After Violet left, I laid in bed staring at my ceiling. Of course she knows I want to fill it out. Of course my mom would pressure me to fill it out, then we'd have double the chances of getting in. The idea of turning on my light and starting on the form now tugged at my brain until my eyes shut. 

The next morning, I woke up with a mission, to make my decision. Amber and Violet had made theirs so easily and I was so torn. In the back of my mind I thought Did I really want to stay in Whites forever? No.

As it turns out, I wasn't the only one who wanted me to make my decision so quickly. When I came downstairs for breakfast, mom had already made me a nice breakfast, coffee and some oatmeal. Great, I thought now she really wants something from me. Right next to my place at the table, not so subtly, was the Selection form. 

"Mom, how did you-" I sighed "I had that in my room, I was reading through it last night and I have a list of all of the possible things that could go wrong if I signed the form. And I think that-" 

"You think that the pros definitely outweigh the cons?" My mother interrupted me, sliding the bowl of sugar next to the mug of coffee she had poured for me. "I saw your list, you need to stop overthinking sweetie." I knew my mom was right, besides I really wanted to get the whole Selection shenanigans out of the way. 

Ever since I could remember, every Friday we'd watchThe Report. Every Friday, Prince Kaden would be seated alongside his family and every Friday, Amber would comment on and on that she hopes that Prince Kaden never finds a princess from a foreign country to marry so he would just have to hold a Selection so we could have the opportunity to be in it. Amber frequently noted that the prince and I would make a good couple. 

Since last night I'd been thinking about what Violet had said to me. Even though it wasn't much, my best friend was signing the form and I guess it wouldn't hurt to have a shot too. I mean, what were the chances that one of us would get picked? One in a thousand?

I turned to my mom and saw the hopeful look on her face. "Ok, I'll sign the form. But, I can't promise that the prince will fall in love with me" 

"Sweetie, just promise me that you'll at least try. For us and for you. You do have our amazing genes with your fathers charm and my wit, who couldn't resist?"

I laughed, "I promise that I'll try mom. But seducing isn't really in my playbook." 

Obviously my mother was happy with the fact that she didn't have to push me any harder to get me to sign that form. Smiling, she left me in peace to eat. I barely got a second to myself before Amber burst in interrogating me about the form.

"Mads, is it true that you're actually gonna fill the form out? Oh, my little duckie is signing the form!" Amber tugged at the ends of my hair and laughed happily to the kitchen for her breakfast. 

I honestly didn't think that she knew if I entered, only one of us could get chosen. Even if she did, I don't think she cared. 

After finishing breakfast, I walked to my room to get dressed for my day. I wanted to feel my best before signing away my future to the palace. Thankfully, I wasn't working today so I could wear something a little more comfortable and suitable to the harsh cold of Whites. 

My closet was filled with knit sweaters, jeans, cardigans, heavy down jackets, thermal layers, and many pairs of boots. Knowing that I didn't have to put on my slacks and airy blouse for work today, I felt a sense of relief and warmth. I'd choose sweating over freezing any time of the year. 

I chose my favorite sweater, which once belonged to my dad. I was too small for it to fit properly, so it hung loosely on me. But I still loved it, the gray knit material was worn at the ends of the sleeves and holes appeared where I had pulled loose threads. But best of all, it still smelled like dad with his pine scent from strolling through the trees, the cleaning spray that he'd use for cleaning gems, and the new pastels he would by for his sketches. 

Lying on the table in the kitchen was my form, in the same spot that it had been when I woke up. I picked up a pen that was lying on the counter and I stared at the form as if it was written in a  foreign language. It practically was, it contained amounts of money I had never even imagined acquiring in my lifetime, the promise of safety, and the possibility of love. I pulled out a chair at the table and heavily sat down hoping that my family would realize that they were about to miss the moment that they pushed so hard to get.

I stopped ogling at the thing and started reading the it. I was asked to fill out basic questions such as my birth name, birth date, height, weight, eye color, and hair color. After I finished the first section of the letter, I noticed the questions became more detailed. It asked me what languages I spoke- other than English of course- any hobbies I had, jobs that I worked, amount of siblings I have, how many people I lived with, and highest year of schooling. 

When I was younger my mom homeschooled me. She made me choose two languages to learn 'for the benefit of myself and my future'. I chose to learn French and Italian. When I first started at the jeweler, we acquired a few Swendish clients. Overtime I slowly picked up Swendish, but I could only really comprehend it when it was spoken to me. Amber said that comprehension at any level counted on the form. So I scribbled down all three of the languages.

Fifteen minutes passed before my mom asked me anything about the letter. She just sat in front of me and watched me write, slowly sipping a cup of tea. I appreciated her patience, normally she would've been bouncing up and down behind me making sure I was wording everything right.

"Well, what does it ask Maddisyn?" my mom leaned over the table to see the questions, and read my answers to them.

I started to list off the questions I had already answered so I could just finish filling out the form. Mom seemed very appalled by the fact that they asked for my weight and wondered out loud if the palace was discriminatory against a certain weight. 

"Mom," I nudged her away from me. "Breathe, I think it's just for dresses or something. Anyways they asked for eye color and hair color. Um, it is also asking how many languages I speak." I looked up at her wondering what her response would be to that question.

"Well they better pick you because you speak three languages! Remember, all that matters is comprehension" my mother smiled, finding herself amused with the questions that I had to fill out. 

    "Didn't you fill out the form with Amber, mom?" I asked, slightly annoyed that she was hovering. 

    "Yes. But some of your questions are different than Amber's. Like the hobbies and free-time one. Amber was asked if she had ever been in a relationship. Which I don't see on your form..." mom stated matter-of-factly.

"Why don't you go make me a cup of tea?" I said, filling out the question asking what my current hobbies were. This question was kind of easy, I could write down drawing. I had to sketch new designs every day fo the shop. I also wrote down baking and reading, as well as skiing and photography. I was slightly tempted to write down something off-putting so they had no chance but to eliminate me from the pool. But mom would have a field day if I misbehaved.

I looked around the room, taking in this moment and trying to ground myself. I wondered what dad would say if he were here. He would probably comment something like I should add sleeping to my hobby list. Or for my languages list I should write sarcasm and talking back. I smiled just at the thought of him. I took a deep breath and signed my legal name at the bottom of the page. 

Amber had already gone with her friends to turn in her form, mom and I went down to the Whites Postal Services to turn in the letter later that morning. It was a quick three minute walk from our house and walking in the crisp fresh air always helped calm my nerves. Mom wanted to take the bus, but I made her bundle up in a jacket and scarf. 

"We need to make a stop on the way." I told mom, hoping she wouldn't complain.

"Violet's place I'm guessing?" she nudged me. I nodded silently as we made the detour to Violet's.

~

When the three of us got to the Postal Services, there was a long line of girls who were wearing lots of makeup with their hair in loose curls. Their nicest blouses or sweaters- despite the cold weather and snow. I was still wearing my outfit from this morning, I just added Ashton's old wool coat he left behind before he moved away. I didn't feel the need to dress up to turn in a form. 

I had no idea what I was getting myself into here, did I? I wondered to myself. 

My hair was in loose braids, like it always was. I didn't have work today, so I had nothing on my face except for a sheer amount of lotion. Compared to the other girls I definitely looked more fresh-faced and natural. Normally, I only wore makeup to events for our clientele. On a daily basis I tended not to go all out. 

"9 years in the making Maddi and I'm so glad you and I are together to do this." Violet beamed.

We'd been friends since she came up to me on my first day working at the shop, I was just about ten years old. She told me that my name was spelled weird and I told her that she wasn't one to judge because she was named after a color. I always had a hard time making friends, but Violet had been there for me for nine years. I was there for all of her boy problems and breakups and she was there for me throughout all of my dad's hospital stays and when the doctor told us that he had died. Violet always claimed that she was my escape from the "real world".

"Maddi, look at that girl!" Violet whispered to me and nodded towards to a girl wearing a very low cut, lacy, and strapless top with tight pants. She was wearing so much makeup it made me wonder what she looked like without it. She was visibly shivering, rubbing her hands together as her mother paraded beside her, walking with her head held high as if she was saying "the future princess has arrived, step aside". All I could think was how cold I'd be if I was wearing close to nothing in below freezing weather.

"Well, obviously this can't just be a lottery." Violet commented, scanning the crowd of girls. We both looked back in the line, slightly disappointed knowing that the chances of getting chosen wasn't by luck. There was a girl still in her stained work shirt and name tag, I didn't know if she was going to go back home and change or not. 

"Vi, what happens if one of us gets picked and the other doesn't?" I looked at my best friend with a sad smile. 

"Mads, if you get picked I'll be so happy for you. I hope that it's that same way for you," I gave her a small nod. "Besides, if anyones getting picked, it's totally gonna be me." She smiled and held her head high. I knew she was joking, well, at least I thought she was. 

I was always comparing myself to Violet. We had similar features: blue eyes, porcelain skin, and gentle manner. But our similarities ended there. She was constantly getting asked out on dates or getting complimented by training teams in the lodge. She was tall, maybe five foot eight or so. In contrast to me, her hair was as blond as anyone's could be. Violet claimed that her hair got blonder the more she spent time outside or on the slopes. Her eyes were a shocking mix of blue and green, like you were staring into tropical waters. Her confidence was always higher than mine was and I always guessed that she used her confidence to make me feel more insecure. 

Once we made it to the booth to turn in the forms, I realized wearing my newer boots might have not been a good idea because my feet had really started to hurt. I felt pity for the girls in heels, questioning their decision making skills in the weather. I let my mind wander for only a slight second before my mom and I were ushered into a new line. I turned in my letter and thought we'd be done when a tall woman with a tight bun approached me and my mom. 

"Follow me," She ushered my mom and I into a brightly lighted room, leaving Violet behind us in the crowd. The room was brightly lit from the sun's reflection off of the snow outside, it was so much warmer than waiting outside in the snow. I glanced around the room noticed that the group of girls was slimmer compared to the lengthy line outside. All of the girls sat in cushioned chairs, obviously waiting for something. Mom asked the Postal Service Officer how long waiting here would take. She responded 'five to ten minutes' in a bored tone. 

I waited very impatiently, I picked at my nails and constantly asked my mom if my hair was in place. I anxiously shifted my weight from foot to foot while I waited for the Postal Service Officer to call my name. 

Mom excitedly grabbed my wrist, "Oh! I almost forgot. I brought this bracelet for you. Your dad got it for you for your birthday but, you know..." Her eyes watered and she took a beep breath letting her thought drift off, "I forgot all about it and I was looking through the closet today and there the box was. Like magic! You dad wanted you to have it before you turned eighteen and I had just been waiting for the right moment. Your birthday wasn't the happiest day this year. But now just seems like the perfect time." She smiled as she handed me the gray box. It was tied with a navy ribbon and a small card was folded neatly underneath it. I carefully untied the satin ribbon, I wanted to keep it as an accessory. I placed the card under the box to read for later, maybe it had something personal in it and I didn't want to risk crying in front of all of the other girls.

"Mom! It's absolutely beautiful." I said. The bracelet was beaded with glass beads in all hues of blue. Dad always envied my bright blue eyes and even in the afterlife, he was there to remind me of them. 

Mom wrapped the bracelet around my wrist twice and clasped it. I nearly started crying, but I couldn't stop smiling. In my father's will, he'd only left me a few of his things, useless things like a notebook with stars all on the cover, it was mostly empty except for the map of Illèa consuming the first two pages. It was marked with a few locations Kent, Carolina, and Yukon- I just guessed that he'd wanted to visit those places before he died. He also left me his watch. I had no personal attachment to that watch and neither did he. My father barely ever wore a watch unless it was a special occasion. I felt that I didn't mean as much to him as meant to me.

"Dean, Maddisyn!" A shrill voice called from the front of the room. My mom and I quickly headed to the front of the room, where the lady with the tight bun stood in front of another door.

"Hi, that's me. Maddisyn Dean." I played with the ends of my hair worriedly, why was I chosen to go to a smaller room? Where was Violet, she should be here too. I started to overthink all of the possibilites of why I was here and I was surrounded by girls I had only met in passing. I didn't lie on my application and I certainly didn't do anything illegal before signing the form. 

"Perfect, we just need a headshot of you to show the palace." The lady rushed me into a room the size of my bathroom at home. It was very hot and lights were plastered all around the small perimeter of the ceiling.

Suddenly, it all made sense to me why there were so many girls dressed up.

Mom ushered me to take off my coat, she didn't want me to look too bulky. After a few seconds I positioned myself towards the camera "I'm ready whenever you are" I told the cameraman.

A group of people quickly surrounded me, immediately taking my braids out and smoothing my hair. They quickly ran a cloth across my skin, blotting at my cheeks. Once my hair was all fixed up, I looked right at the camera and smiled the brightest smile I could. For dad. I thought.

Seconds after my picture was taken, I realized that I had flung myself off the cliff of the Selection. Now, my name was in the pool with thousands of others, just waiting to get picked.

[ventisehe]

crying on their wedding day, or not / genshin impact / part two

this is the second part of crying on their wedding day. i didn’t add dainsleif and baizhu because i don’t have enough creative juice to squeeze them in. 

requested by: @bakuhoe-is-my-bakubro

includes: venti, kaeya, xingqiu, scaramouche, razor, albedo, chongyun, xiao, kazuha

warning: unedited, not proofread, different variation of not seeing the bride before the wedding ceremony, written before kazuha was released

part one

THOSE WHO WILL NOT CRY

     VENTI

            Although his wings that have soared through the vast open azure skies was as ancient as the winds that swept ever so delicately through the lands that made up Teyvat, although his curious viridescent hues have become quiet witnesses to numbers of renowned and untold tales of mortals across nations, no matter the countless years he devoted trying to cognize the mortals and their atypical behaviors, Barbatos – or Venti, as he refers to himself now – can never truly understand how so many human beings can stay in one place with one person.

                            Before he had even come to be the Anemo Archon, all that Venti knew was how to heed the call of the wind. To him, it was confounding how mortals do not have the similar urgency as he to follow the winds. Even when he had taken the form of his dearest friend, Himmel, and has elapsed through myriad of seasons and centuries, still he soared gently in the air, lyre in his possession as he sung melodies of his own composition and strummed symphonies for those who yearn to hear his voice, and with his braids billowing in his travel to a destination even he cannot tell yet.

            One has made an attempt - and unfortunately, a fruitless one - to make sense to him why some has gone against the heed of the wind, a very peculiar decision in the eyes of someone like him. His form nothing but a mere wisp at that time, nothing but a small creature with little understanding, and he remembered he was seated on the shoulder of his companion as they perched by the edge of a mountain, legs dangling and kicking gently back and forth. They basked in the caress of the wilting warmth as the sun bid its farewell.

                      Himmel was humming a tune with the corners of his mouth curving up and his eyes closed, and Venti's small frame thrummed with delight at the euphony he made.

                And in the serene quiet, his dear friend spoke, "Someday, you'll find yourself wanting to stay somewhere. For something, or for someone. You don't understand now, but when you come to love one thing, you'll always want to be close to their side." Himmel turned to him, a subdued smile etched across his features, and upon catching sight of the sincerity and fervor Himmel in his bright eyes, Venti cannot help but mirror his sentiments and reciprocate his smile the best he can with the body he manifested in.

     "When that day comes, you'll understand why many choose to . . . stay." Venti tilted his head to the side, and Himmel let out a small chuckle once he catches on the puzzlement that he displayed in his actions. "Don't look at me like that. I know you're curious about the whole marriage thing. Who knows, maybe someday you'll find yourself a nice fellow wisp and - "

            All it took for Himmel to cut his statement short and burst out in laughter was how Venti prodded against his neck as a feeble attempt to make him quiet down.

               And as Himmel has predicted, Venti - in time - did understood.

                        Venti was able to perceive the reasonings of mortals to turn their heads away from the beckon of the wind, to live a peaceful and quaint life, some alone, and some with their spouses. Himmel had done his absolute best to explain to him the wanders which are humans, and gleefully watched as Venti attentively listened to every word he spoke.

      However, at the end of the day, Venti was still a free spirit. He can never be tied down to one place, much more to another living being. He will always find himself favoring the whisper of the winds in Teyvat, adrift and letting himself go adrift.

            It was after he had witnessed the life in Himmel's eyes leave, heard his last breath, the whisper of the triumph of Mondstadt in achieving freedom, and his final request as he stroked Venti's quivering figure - A sad smile has been painted upon Himmel's brims as he gazed at the smaller entity weeping under his touch, "I ask only for one last favor from you, my dearest friend. Look after Mondstadt, after our people, for me, and never let everything we've sacrificed go for naught."

                          Venti was still a free spirit, but with what happened to Himmel, he longed to understand how he saw the world. It seemed he understood it differently than he did. And thus, he took the form of his beloved friend, and ventured closer than he had before to mortals.

      The day he found a place in The Seven, the fateful he became the Anemo Archon, Venti has not once missed an event with his people. He celebrated with them in festivities, cried with them in their sorrows, aided them in battles against transgressors or wars within their own mind. He laughed with them, ate with them, drank with them, and his love for his people grew everyday.

          But still, he can never stay for too long.

                      Venti tried to, he really did, for his friends, as his last gift before he lets go of the pain of losing him. But cannot force himself to remain in one place if his heart kept searching for places to explore, people to meet, discover the secrets of Teyvat.

    Hopelessness was beginning to gnaw inside him as hundred of years has passed, and he has already traveled through long distances and saw generation after generation of his people in Mondstadt, and yet nothing he has yet to fulfill his own promise to hos friend.

           Perhaps this was the way it was supposed to be. Maybe only mortals are giving the ability to be content and stay, but the Anemo Archon was forever to be appearing and disappearing - always, always stringing along with the wind.

                      And Venti believed that thought of his, and it stuck to him throughout many more years in Teyvat.

       Not even a dust of faith was left in the ruins of what he now thought of as a vanquished promise, marring Venti with a wound in his heart, and a doubt in his standing as an Archon. However, it was through this belief that took him by surprise when he met a rather strange woman at the last day of the Windblume Festival, and in Stormterror’s Lair, no less.

                    The Honorary Knight, and their odd traveling companion have long been gone after they bid him farewell and a safe travel in his return to his abode – or whatever dwelling was the closest he could denote as home – leaving Venti by himself to reminisce in the ruins of where Old Mondstadt once stood.

                                        The heavens were a color of black dotted with stars and the moon. The wind has grown softer, as though to accompany him in this lonesome hour, leaving chaste kisses against his pallid skin. From afar, the City of Mondstadt remains lit with lanterns and plethora of flowers. Even in this distance, he can oversee the joy that exuded from the people as they celebrated the remaining hours of the festival and take in the fragrance of the flowers friends and partners exchanged with one another. It was a beautiful sight to behold if one sits in such a desolate and dark place, in the very tower that he had confronted Stormterror – no, it was Dvalin now, Stormterror has perished along with the danger of the past.

                                        But a presence – curious, sorrowful – has intervened in the quiet evening Venti thought he had saved for himself. He stood up from the platform where he has previously perched upon and took off to take a gander in the Lair, and it did not take a moment longer for him to spot a figure nearby. There, standing on top of a boulder clad in a crestfallen expression was a lone woman. She was casting her gaze around Old Mondstadt, and the breeze blew her tears away,

            Venti had never seen her before. He had met every family, every person, in Old Mondstadt, and the same was to be said to the generation that followed after them. He knew them well, recalled their quirks and appearances, and this woman has no resemblance to any of them. Has she come from another nation?

                                   Venti made it his point to glide down and noiselessly land behind her, but it seems his efforts have failed him for this stranger spoke the second his feet made contact with the ground.

        "I wonder how this place used to be." You stated, and Venti was unsure whether you have felt his presence or you were speaking to yourself.

   “So, this is Old Mondstadt.” She stated in a murmur. Her voice was laced with awe, but with evidence of forlornity. “I heard rumors about what happened here, and-and the thing with Stormterror too. Archon, I wish someone would tell me the real story of the City of Freedom. Back in my home, we’re not even allowed to learn much about the Archons of other nations. It’d be foolish to just trust rumors.”

                                  There was something about her that piqued his interest. He did not know what it was. Maybe it was the way she talked about Mondstadt, her interest in the history of his city and his people, the sincere sorrow she felt for what the fallen tyrant of Mondstadt had had done to his former subjects, and how he had forced their hands to rebellion to protect their nation.

                            Venti spoke before he can stop to think. “If you’d like, I can retell the story of how Old Mondstadt came to be. I’m well versed in the history of this city, so rest assured everything you’ll hear is the truth.” He carved a smile to his lips. “And I am a Bard, so you have no need to worry about me chatting your ear off. All it takes is an audience and my lyre to get me started. Of course, a private performance will cost you, but since you’re new in the city, I suppose I can – ”

                                  His breath was taken away when the stranger turned to face him, and his words withered from his tongue. Ever seen a speechless bard? It was a sight people will scarcely see.

                Could he ever compose a song to even come close to the lovely view that was before his eyes? Gleaming curious pair of eyes, a smile so eager to listen, hair flitting with the wind as his heartbeat raced –

             Venti was used to captivating his audience with his songs and stories. However, this time, it was he who was captivated, and when he took out his lyre and played a sweet tune to sing the story of his beloved city, with this gorgeous woman listening to him with bright and shining eyes, Venti knew then that he wanted to play for her every song he knew, every story he saw and heard, to the end of time.

                            You told him your name after his song, and you came all the way from the isolated nation of Inazuma. It took him by surprise how you have confidence in him to reveal to him your identity and place of birth. Surely, not everyone will trust a stranger who has appeared out of nowhere who offered to sing them a song. But then again, Venti trusted you as quickly as you trusted him, and now it was his turn to listen as you confide in him.

  You have escaped from your home nation and survived out in the seas under the heat of the sun and threat of starvation for days until a compassionate Captain from Liyue, and her crew found you and delivered you to safety. And it was after your recovery that you fled to Mondstadt, the opposite of the nation you were born in.

                     Venti found himself sitting down in front of you as you told him your story, sight never leaving your frame as he did so. You were no Bard, and you were no storyteller, but he cannot tell the time or noticed the sun has set as you regaled him with story of Inazuma and your life after and before your escape. He was enchanted with the way you spoke, how you looked about Old Mondstadt with saddened awe, the fervidness in your voice – Have I found myself a rival? Thought Venti, eyes softening as you went on about your admiration for the affability and generosity his people have shown you.

                                                          When you left that day, you promised to come back and when you do, you shall ask him to sing to you more of his songs. At first, Venti was hesitant to believe your promise, but to his relief and happiness, when he saw you in the same place in the ruins undoubtedly waiting for him with your eyes closed and relishing in the wind that rushed past you. Venti always came to Stormterror’s Lair to oversee what remained of his old home, but for once, his sights were held torn and you have all his attention.

                   Seeing you keep your promise of return made his day, but when you whipped your head to face him with a smile, waving a hand as you asked him to sit with you, Venti knew that his heart desired yours. Was it a wise decision to fall for someone you've only just met? Certainly not, but he was an Archon who had too much time but too little for those who he holds dear. He cannot afford to be unsure when his time with you was limited.

     So, he decided – when the day is right and the wind is quiet, he shall make his feelings for you known.

            It became a routine for the two of you to meet in Stormterror’s Lair and share your stories with one another, Venti always telling his in songs, as a Bard would. There was never a dull moment between the two of you, and every story told in the ruins were to be fascinated of. And soon, it wasn't just stories. Soon, he was finding out more about you, knowing you better until he couldn't get you out of his head.

                  It became a routine for the two of you to meet in Stormterror’s Lair and share your stories with one another. Venti always told his in the form of songs, as a Bard would, you will always applaud him after, to which he would respond with a melodramatic bow. There was never a dull moment between the two of you, and every story spoke in the ruins and the silence of the night was to be fascinated of.  He was learning more about you, knowing you better, until he couldn’t get you out of his mind when his head falls against his pillow.

    Venti cherished these times he had with you. He knew it won't be long until you were gone. He knew his fate as an Archon – seeing loved ones perish and more to come, and the cycle continued.

                                           He hasn't even told you about his identity.

                          Venti was grateful for the Traveler for pushing him to tell you about his feelings and his standing in Teyvat, but he was still uncertain. What would you say if he confessed to you? What will you say if he admits to being the Anemo Archon? Will things change between the two of you? Will you leave? Venti can’t think about that.

                                                                       Venti grew worried when you didn’t come to Stormterror’s Lair one day, and then another, and his concern grew as days turned to weeks. Everyday he found himself visiting Stormterror’s Lair in hopes of seeing you waiting for him again, but he was always left disappointed. You did not mention going on an adventure or a commission, so his worry was warranted. Were you safe or were you simply sick of him?

                 When the day you finally appeared in the Lair, relief washed over Venti and he practically jumped off the broken tower he frequently resided and made haste towards you. But his footsteps faltered when he found no traces of a smile on your face. He can see the relief and joy, but the smile was absent. From that, Venti’s own beam wilted as he walked over to you with reluctant steps.

      When he came close to you, he opened his mouth to ask how you have faired for the past weeks and question your abrupt disappearance when you said something that took him by surprise.

                                    “I know who you are.”

          It felt like his entire world has stopped for a moment as he stared at you with disbelief smearing his countenance. How ever did you discover the truth? Certainly, he had similarities with his statues, but none of his people nor visitors from outside ever pieced the puzzle together.

                            He averted his gaze, ashamed. Why was he wallowing in shame? Or perhaps was this regret of not telling you sooner? Did you feel betrayed? Will you cast him away?

                      “But how . . . ”

                                            “The man at the Tavern told me, Master Diluc.” You answered. “I was telling him about you, and I guess he thought I already knew of you being the . . . Anemo Archon.”

           “Is that why you were gone for weeks?” Venti questioned, and when you nodded in response, he winced. He can’t help but think of the worse – She’ll leave me.

                          Venti looked away. “Ah, I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, it is hard to believe someone like me is an Archon.” He laughed out, but the humor was nonexistent in his statement. “So, how do you feel about that?”

                      Venti let out a gasp when you threw yourself to him and enveloped him in a tight hug. Venti froze at your actions and waited for you to withdraw, but when you did not, he slowly accepted your embrace with gratefulness. He didn’t know what you do this, but he was more than happy to reciprocate your actions before he lets you go.

        It won’t matter, anyway. He’ll hear the winds calling for him somewhere soon. Maybe letting you go now would hurt less in the long run.

                    “Are you not . . . angry?” Venti asked as he closed his eyes and rested his chin on your shoulder.

                                    “Oh Archons, no, Venti. I could never hate you.” You assured him in a whisper and from the brokenness on your voice, Venti knew you were crying. “Those times you told me about Barbatos . . . all the stories about his past . . . everything he had gone through . . . ” You murmured, tone lowering. “ . . . you must have been so hurt and lonely.”

                                              He didn’t know why your words shot through him. He can feel tears streaming down his cheeks as memories of his past and the continuous pain of loss and regret caught up with him. Finally, after thousands of years, his false smile was shattered.

          How pathetic. He thought. An Archon weeping in front of a mortal that he is in love with. Could things get any worse?

                  Your hand stroked his hair, comforting him as he cried against your shoulder and in your arms.

                          “I was . . . ” He breathed out, choking as he tightened his grip around you. “ . . . it never stops hurting . . . I keep seeing Himmel, and everyone, and – ”

                He couldn’t finish what he was saying and just relished in the comfort of your arms, breathing in your scent.

                                    “I don’t understand what you’ve been going through these thousands of years, and I never will, but it’s okay now, Venti.” You whispered in his ear, and he can detect the compassion and love lacing your voice. His heart hammered against his chest. “You have me. You don’t have to pretend everything is okay. I’m here for you. I want you to be Venti and Barbatos with me, I want all of you.”

             He couldn’t believe his ears. Did he hear you correctly? You want him?

                    Venti gently retracted himself from you, but his arms remained at your sides. “You still want me, even after I kept this from you?”

         “I want you, Venti.” You clasped your hands over his shoulders, firmly looking into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere anymore. I’m staying here, with you.”

                 And so, you stayed, and so did he – it was the first time he stayed, and he will never regret it.

One would think that as a renowned Bard in Mondstadt, Venti would push for a grand wedding where all people of Mondstadt are invited to wine and dine together as bards banded together to regale everyone with their music, and as the Archon who values freedom above everything else, a big part of him wanted to. But he thought of you and what you wanted. It took some time for him to deliberate over how selfish it would be for him to make you uncomfortable in your wedding day and agree a small wedding would be a much better option considering how sacred and intimate marriage is.

However, knowing you cannot simply have the Anemo Archon go against his belief, and of course because of your love for him, you have secretly devised a plan with Jean and Kaeya to invite all the citizens of Mondstadt to your reception to celebrate this joyous occasion for the two of you. There was more than enough food and drinks to feast, courtesy of Master Diluc, and you’re sure Venti will be over the moon with this surprise. 

Venti had no family, and those he did consider as family were long gone, just a memory from the past. Even though it is unusual for a groom not to have a best man in his wedding day, Venti claimed he was fine without a best man. He had no doubts in marrying you. When he proposed to you, there was no touch of regret or doubt. Albeit reluctantly, you were in a mutual agreement in that matter, as well. Until, of course, an unexpected tribute arrived offering his services.

Venti was not the least nervous when the day of your wedding came. He did not waste time when he woke up and immediately got to work on his appearance. Jean was kind enough to have his wedding suit tailored for him, an early wedding gift, as she says.

Venti knew of the rule that a groom mustn’t see his bride in her wedding gown until the time she walks on the aisle. But he was just so thrilled for this day that he forgot all about it. And even if he did remember it, who in the world would stop him from seeing you? He has no best man to stop him anyway -

Venti almost choked to death when a hand came to grasp him by his the back of his collar, and he blubbered pathetically as he was thrown off balance and was dragged back to the altar.

“Who are - Master Diluc? What are you doing?”

Diluc let out a huff as he continued dragging Venti away from your house. “Stopping you from upsetting your bride. I’m sure you know that you shouldn’t see your bride in her gown before the wedding?”

“But Master Diluc, as much as I appreciate what you’re doing, you’re not in any position to - ”

“Actually, I am in a position where I’m allowed to stop you from making a mess of your wedding.” Said Diluc. “I’m your best man, after all.”

Venti couldn’t put to words how touched he was, and more so when you revealed to him after the wedding that Diluc has offered to be his best man by his own volition. As thanks, the next time Venti visited the tavern to drink, he paid for a single bottle of wine once. It wasn’t exactly ideal but considering how he had no original plan to pay Diluc for any of the drinks he will consume, this was as good as it gets.

When the doors opened to reveal you in your pretty white wedding dress, Venti swooned, and a large joyous smile stretched across his lips.

A gentle breeze swept in the altar and Venti felt his feet leave the ground briefly, floating in the air as he excitedly watched you walk down the aisle, and it took Diluc’s hand pulling him down by the back of his suit to stop him from floating up above the cathedral.

“My, my, if I knew any better, I would have thought the Archons have taken favor on me and blessed me with a beautiful bride.” Venti said once you join him in the altar and took your hands in his own. “You look beautiful, darling. I might just write another song about you.”

You shook your head, pink tinting your cheeks. “Haven’t you written enough songs about me?”

Venti inched his face close to you, his large smile altering to a soft smile. “There aren’t enough songs to tell you how much I adore you.”

The wedding went on, and when the two of you kissed, only one thing entered in Venti’s mind - I found my reason to stay, Himmel. I just hope you can see this.

The wind blew gently.

     KAEYA

                      Kaeya did not know what to feel when his brother has made it clear once and for all that he wanted nothing to do with him. His dismissive remarks, his heated glares, his cold and aloof treatment – he had known Diluc for so long, and his memories with him in their childhood never grew old in his mind, so it pained him to have his once bright-eyed sibling who aspired to be part of the Knight acting as though they were strangers. No, strangers would have been merciful. He acted as if the bond they had never meant anything to him, and casting him aside and seeing him under the light of contempt was the easiest decision he has ever made.

                                               Even you were not spared from the same fate. The three of you become inseparable the day you and Kaeya were introduced to each other. You’ve done everything together, and it would be a strange sight to see one missing from the group.

                When Diluc has cut ties with Kaeya, you suffered the same fate as he. You poor, poor thing – you tried your best to patch the friendship he no longer wanted to be part of, and Kaeya did not waste time running to your side and picking up the pieces Diluc shattered. It was not an easy feat for both of you to lose Diluc – he lost a brother, and you lost a good friend.

                                 But it was because of your fall out with him that you and he become closer than ever, closer than before, if that could even be possible. The two of you support one another and you go to each other when things get difficult.

             Kaeya will never admit it, and he would rather die than do, but he has loved you for many years. The moment Diluc pulled him into an unknown house, claiming that he wanted to meet someone important to him, and his eyes landed on your form with the sunrays kissing your skin, a wide smile stretching across your face, and a fake sword in your hand, his heart was taken.

                            You were one of the reasons he wanted to become a Knight. Diluc admitted his want to become a Knight, and you expressed the same sentiment, and of course, hearing his friend and brother say so, he became inclined of joining the Knights. I’ll get good training. He thought back then as stared at you, blushing as you braided Diluc’s hair. Then, I’ll be able to protect ( Your Name ).

        Now that Diluc no longer wanted to be in contact with you than more than is necessary, Kaeya grew to be more protective over you. He knew you can handle yourself as you were a Knight yourself and wields a Vision, too, but his heart clenches at the thought of you getting hurt when he could have easily had your back, like he always did.

                                                 Kaeya didn’t knowif you had feelings for him, or for anyone, for that matter. Many times he thought of confessing to you just to rip the band aid off, but he couldn’t. He’ll keep his feelings to himself and continue being the Cavalry Captain that everyone adored, and your own personal protector.

   But it was getting harder and harder to hide his feeling. Everyday he was always under the threat of falling deeper in love with you. Everyday, you always give him more reasons to love you. Waiting for him to come home after taking too long in his work, taking care of him after a nasty battle or when he’s drunk, always checking up on him even if your schedule was hectic, offering him help if you deem the responsibility given to him is too much. How much longer can he pretend that he wasn’t thinking of you everyday and every night?

                                He was pulled back from his train of thoughts when he felt a soft material doused in alcohol perch on the wound blemishing his skin. “Ah, be gentle, ( Your Name ),” Whined Kaeya, stilling himself to refrain from moving and delaying your nurse on his cuts.

                          “We wouldn’t be in this situation if you had only been careful fighting those Abyss Mages.” You reprimanded with a stern glare. “Think of this as your punishment from me. Now, hold still.”

                      “I was fighting Abyss Mages and came back with small wounds. How am I not careful?”

       “You can be more careful.” Quipped you, and finding your chance, you pressed the cotton again his skin, causing the Cavalry Captain to hiss in pain.

                      “Ow, ow, ow – I said be gentle!”

                                         “Oh, you can fight Abyss Mages but can’t handle getting your wounds treated? What a baby.”

                        Kaeya pouted while you pulled away from him. “My dearest ( Your Name ) doesn’t love me anymore.” He cooed. “Tell me, what can I do to make it up to you, hmm?”

                                      You shook your head and placed your hand over his head, beaming. His heart leaped in his chest. “Stop being reckless.” You responded. “You’re the most important person to me, Kaeya. I don’t want to lose you too.”

             Days and days he spent thinking of what you said. He never truly knew how he important he was to you. The thought of that had him sleeping and dreaming of you and your smiles, how the days will be if you loved him the same way he loved you, and the fateful day you owned his heart.

   He had to thank Diluc for introducing him to you. He couldn’t imagine being in a world where he has no one to lean on when he lost the only family he had. You became his rock, someone he could lean on and trust. His friend who he loved more than he should have, the woman he wished to see in his arms someday.

                     But it will never be. He has to protect you. He is always in danger and he doesn’t want to hurt you more if he died and you two are in a relationship. And he had seen firsthand how affected you were when Diluc no longer wanted to be friends with you. He won’t let you go through the same pain if your relationship didn’t work. He loved you too much to let you suffer again.

                                  Kaeya didn’t think he would be able to thank Diluc again after their fall out but he was mistaken.

                            He didn’t know the full story of what had happened the night he got shitfaced drunk in the tavern but woke up the next day to learn he has revealed his feelings for you in front of his brother, and the latter had casually mentioned it to you when you dropped by the tavern to escort him back home.

                      Regret and frustration welled up inside of him and he spent ten minutes walking back in you guest room, trying to explain himself and perhaps even jest about having feels for you but his preparation was all futile when you opened the door just as he was about to.

               Before he can speak, you beat him to it.

        “The next time you get drunk like that, you’re sleeping on the couch.” You chastised, shaking your head and proceeding to turn your back to him to return downstairs. “Freshen up, and head down. I already cooked you breakfast, so hurry up before it gets cold.”

                                              Kaeya stared blankly at the spot you previously stood before smiling. He rushed over to the staircase and looked down to watch you descend the steps. “I won’t keep you long, love.”

                            His smile broadened when he saw redness rush to your cheeks.

Kaeya proposed to you in a way you expected him to propose to you. A fancy dinner at a fancy restaurant where he ordered a fancy bottle of wine and placed the fancy ring he bought into your glass. It was only because you knew him well that you have no accidentally imbibed the accessory. 

Upon receiving your answer to his proposal, the first thing Kaeya did the day after is hunt down for a best man. As a popular and charming Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, he thought it would be an easy task finding himself a best man but that notion gradually wilted as the date for your wedding approaches, he has yet to find someone to take the position.

In his pursuit for a best man, Kaeya came to realize something. His relationships with others aren’t exactly intimate. They drink and laugh together, but none of them really knew him. Kaeya couldn’t go to them with his personal problems or have their shoulders ready for him to cry on. They were good friends, but not people he would let inside his heart and vulnerability.

There were only two people who knew him behind the title of Cavalry Captain - you, and of course, his estranged brother, Diluc.

The very thought of Diluc sent a shiver down his spine. Diluc hated him and ( Your Name ). He pushed them away, treated them horridly, like they had been nothing to him but strangers with bad memories. Why would he want him to be his best man?

He remembered one day in Angel’s Share, he asked Venti if he could stand as his best man in the wedding and he swore he heard a glass dropping from behind the counter but when he turned, he saw Diluc wiping a wine glass with a blank expression. When Kaeya faced Venti once again, the excitement of being asked of such honorable position has withered and the Bard kindly declined before telling him to ask Diluc to be his best man. He did not.

Who cares about best man? The only thing important to me right now is marrying ( Your Name ).

But when the day of his wedding dawned, Kaeya was in a panic. Behind his charm was a man with a dark past, dark memories, and dark thoughts. He began doubting his ability to give you the life you deserve, began feeling insecurities he thought he had set aside.

He tried his best to remain calm, and for the most part, it worked. Everyone did not find something amiss when Kaeya was interacting with them before the wedding, but someone did, and that someone took him by his arm and dragged him a far and secluded corner after excusing him from who he was conversing with.

“Stop fidgeting with your tie, it’s beginning to bother me.”

Kaeya let out a huff. “Master Diluc, what a . . . surprise that you’re here.”

“You sent me an invitation.” The red head retaliated.

Kaeya had indeed sent him an invitation but he had no recollection of this or whatsoever. He was too wasted to remember.

“The Cavalry Captain losing his cool. Now this is a wedding just waiting to be ruined.”

It was almost like magic how the anxiety that has been eating him up vanished at his brother’s taunt. Kaeya glared at Diluc, opening his mouth to retaliate but before he can even let a single word move past his lips, Diluc turned his back to him and returned to the cathedral, leaving Kaeya in disbelief.

He let out a huff as he stared at his brother’s retreating form. “Bastard still knows me best.”

Kaeya has taken the reins over his emotions again, and he was sure he can keep his composure when you enter through the doors. But he was thoroughly mistaken as he swallowed the lump in his throat when his sight landed on you.

It felt like a dream. How can someone like you love him? In all his flaws, mistakes, and faults, how did you see him as someone you can lean on? Someone you want to spend the rest of your life with?

Surely, he must be dreaming. He’ll wake up in his bed any moment now and realize that everything had been the foolishness of his mind -

Except you continued making your way down aisle, and then you were in front of him with a veil covering your flushed face, and then he was slipping his hands in yours. This was real. You love him.

You leaned forward to him, nose brushing against his. “You look very dashing today, Kaeya.”

Kaeya chuckled. “And you look splendid today, Mrs. Alberich - oh, don’t go shy on me now.”

His smile broadened at the sight of your reddening cheeks. If it wasn’t for the priest speaking right now, he would have flipped over your veil and kiss you.

But there is plenty of time to do that. Kaeya will make sure of that.

     XINGQIU

          The youngest of the Guhua Clan will rarely be seen without a novel in hand. Everyday, Xingqiu will be seen with his friends with a book near him, always different from yesterday. He had read many novels and heard stories from storytellers, but one story he will never get tired of was his story with you.

       Although it may not seem like it, Xingqiu was a hopeless romantic, and he has always imagined seeking a woman to make his bride. However, it will always be something he can only imagine. As a heir of the Guhua Clan, he has responsibilities to keep and adhere, and he has willingly accepted this. Being given the freedom to choose his bride is something he cannot afford. When his father has informed him about offering him to a daughter of another prestigious clan, he has voiced his discontentment and disinclination to the arrangement but has nonetheless followed.

                  What a horror it would have been if he had followed through with the tiny voice inside his head saying to run away because if he did, he would have missed the chance of laying eyes on you and experiencing what many romance novels he read called – a heart skipping a beat.

           It was a tiring charade of formalities and display of pristine etiquette. All Xingqiu wanted was to retreat to a secluded area and continue immersing himself in the book he has picked up from the local library. With how often he reads, the novels in his own house he has already read, twice.

                                And so, he did. He kindly excused himself from the dinner between the families, making up a lie about feeling unwell and needing rest, and hurried over in the fields near his place. It is not exactly rude for him to skip dinner. It is not exactly ideal for his bride-to-be to be late in an important occasion like this so why shouldn’t he exhibit the same treatment as they did to him?

                    When he came to the spot be frequented, he caught sight of an unfamiliar figure from afar. A girl around his age sat on the bench under the tree, in the same spot he always occupied. She wore clothes similar to the families of the clan his family are negotiating with, so it didn’t take long for Xingqiu to learn this girl was related to them. He just didn’t know what her standing was with them.

 She was beautiful, he will admit, but it was the book in her hand that caught his attention. Thus, he approached her, adorning a friendly mask as to not scare her away. It is rather uncomfortable meeting strangers in the dark of the night and somewhere far from civilization.

           “Her hair billowed as she stood by the precipice, golden hues dimming in the dying light as she was left disappointed for yet another century. Her tears stung her skin and her throat tightened, but another century is simply common for someone like her. She will wait for his return, even if every mountain has eroded and all that was left of her was hope.” He recited a line from the novel as he took even ambles towards the girl, and he did not falter as she turned to face him. He offered her a smile and bowed with the elegance that his family taught. “Apologies for my disruption, my liege, but I can’t help but be thrilled to see someone with such incredible taste for literature. Not many are fond of historical fiction. Well, in my case, not many are into literature.”

                                        Her eyes appraised him with wonder as she perfected her posture. “That’s one of the lines in the book. My, even I haven’t memorized a single phrase from any of the books in my collections.” She remarked.

                                “I like to memorize a line or two from all the books I’ve read. It feels like a part of them will always be with me even if my memories fade in time.” Xingqiu gestured to the vacant spot beside her. “May I sit next to you?”

     She let out a laugh, to which sent shivers down Xingqiu’s spine. “You may. It’s not everyday I get to speak with someone with the same interests as me.”

                      He gladly seated himself beside her and immediately, he was greeted with the fragrance of flowers.

                    The girl extended her hand to him, smilingly softly at him. “My name is ( Your Name ),” She introduced herself. “You’re probably thinking you haven’t seen me around in Liyue, and you’re right. My family is here to meet with the Guhua Clan.”

                                                      Xingqiu took her hand and pressed a chaste kiss on the back. “Glad to make your acquaintance, my lady. My name is Xingqiu from the Guhua Clan.”

      Her eyebrows raised in acknowledgment. “Is that so?” She mused. “Then, I must show my sincerest gratitude for letting my family into – ”

               “Ah, there’s no need for that,” Dismissed Xingqiu as he shook his head. “We’re far from the dinner they’re sharing together. No need to be so formal with me.”

          Her smile brightened. “I have a feeling we’re going to get along splendidly, Xingqiu.”

                        Upon returning together to his house and finding an excuse as to why Xingqiu had been outside did he and ( Your Name ) learn that it was them who were destined to be married when they are of age. The disappointment of meeting his soon-to-be bride has dissipated at the revelation, leaving him filled with utmost joy and pride as to having you as his, and from the shy and gleeful smile that wandered to your lips, Xingqiu can tell you think the same with him.

It was to be expected that the two of you will have a luxurious and grand wedding. With the two of you coming from wealthy families, it was no surprise. If you have insisted for a small wedding consisting only of close relatives and friends, your parents will fear some other elite clans will perceive this as them losing power and money and will take advantage of them or simply cut ties with them. You and Xingqiu had no other choice but to respect their requests. Although Xingqiu was secretly relieved you agreed to a big wedding. For him, you deserved only the best of the best, and in this case, larger is better.

Both families came to an agreement that it would be for the best if the two of you are not to see each other for the week before your wedding day. You found nothing wrong with this arrangement. Xingqiu, however, was the opposite of you.

Many times he tried to sneak out of his house to visit you in secret but Chongyun has thwarted this attempts many times. When he goes to adventures with the Traveler, he find himself missing you in mere hours. How can he survive a whole week without communicating with you?

Oh, how foolish of him. He was now allowed to visit you but he can, however, write letters to you.

For the whole week, Xingqiu will be writing to you without ceasing. You’ll have a difficult time keeping up with his letters but you’ll always find time to respond to him. After all, you missed him just as much as he missed you.

Xingqiu woke up before the sun can call for him. He walked around in his room, breathing in and out as he tried to soothe his joy. Chongyun, who was tasked to look after Xingqiu for the whole week, woke up from the sound of his footsteps. When he stepped inside his best friend’s room, Xingqiu held Chongyun’s hands and twirled him around, startling the half-asleep Cryo user.

“I’m getting married to ( Your Name ) today!”

“I know, Xingqiu. I’ve been stopping you from visiting her the whole week.”

Your wedding was held in a beautiful garden where cherry blossoms flutter and the wind was gentle and cool.

Xingqiu always held his composure in any situations and circumstances he encountered. But he was going to admit that seeing you in your wedding dress with the cherry blossoms kissing your skin and tresses every now and then had him malfunctioning.

It took a worse turn when you finally stood before him, expectantly looking at him. A compliment, a playful jest, a seductive remark - but there was none of that.

Xingqiu stared at you, eyes shining with admiration and his lips parted in pleasant surprise.

“Xingqiu, earth to Xingqiu,” You whispered. “You there?”

It was only after you spoke that Xingqiu snapped out of his stupor.

“Get yourself together, Xingqiu.” Stated Chongyun beside him in a whisper.

It took him a while to find him bearings but when he did, Xingqiu smiled at you and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

“Beautiful, just like the first time I saw you.”

     SCARAMOUCHE

            Scaramouche has dedicated his entire life to seeing through what his majesty, the Tsaritsa, desired. His life shall be nothing but a pawn for her to use in her schemes and may her will be done through him and her subjects. If she must dispose of him to make success of her endeavor, Scaramouche will gladly surrender before her eyes and bare his neck for her to cut. He will do anything she commands without a second thought, and anyone who dares get in his way will face the wrath of an incensed Harbinger.                

         It was all about the Tsaritsa. His entire his existence is for his majesty. It was all he ever believed in when the honor of being the sixth Harbingers was crowned over him. With that said, Scaramouche can never bring himself to admit his resolve has been altered upon his discreet visitation to the City of Freedom to conduct a more intimate investigation over the meteorites and the impact it had on the people of Mondstadt.

                      His skull was throbbing, his thoughts scattered, and frustration was beginning to settle inside of him. Scaramouche has just dispatched his soldiers to continue their research on the meteors after his failed attempt to eliminate the traveler. He was left alone in the tranquility of the night, with the remnants of the astrologist’s escape glittering beneath his eyes, mocking him.

     “I should have acted quicker. The Traveler will continue foiling The Tsaritsa’s plans.” Mumbled Scaramouche to himself. “No matter. There will be another chance in the future to finish off the hero of Mondstadt, and I’m sure it’ll come sooner than I expect. I must prepare for that time. I can’t make this mistake again.”

                  A curious hum that echoed behind him had him stiffening in his place and drawing out his weapon from thin air. “Are you interested about the meteors too?” A voice asked.

          Scaramouche turned around, and he found a woman standing behind him a few meters away. She has a beauty that he favors, a smile so gentle that it thawed a bit of ice in his heart, but a scowl made its way to his countenance. She’s taller than me.

  She didn’t look particularly like anyone he would have any interest in knowing, and when she has introduced herself to him after he supplied her with no answer, Scaramouche predicted correctly. She was merely an ordinary folk in any ordinary city with no Vision or any skillset that could benefit him in anything.

                                                    “I must get going.” Curtly stated Scaramouche and he turned around without even bidding goodbye to the woman.

                          “So soon?” You asked. “I thought we could at least talk what’s been happening – about the meteors, the stars.”

              Scaramouche frowned at the mention of the latter and he spun back around to meet your gaze. “The stars? What about the stars?”

                                        You smiled a secret smile. “The stars . . . they’re fake.”

         Scaramouche stared at you with wonder and amusement in his dark hues. He has always believed in that notion, and only a handful came to agree with him. Now, here a lady stands before him, with nothing in particular to offer him, speaking of the truth many has rejected.

                      He examined you from head to toe, evaluating your form before beckoning you to come over to him, saying, “Perhaps I can spare some time to talk.”

                  What was supposed to be a conversation within an hour or so has extended for a day, and when you requested to accompany him back to ship docked in Liyue Harbor to continue your conversation (it surprised him but has nonetheless allowed you to tag along) about the meteors and the stars, it dragged on for weeks.

     But Scaramouche would be lying if he said that was all you discussed about. There was only so much information they can relate to the subject that has intertwined their fates that it did not take long for the two of you to stray from it to favor a more civil conversation. He learned of your mundane life back in Mondstadt where you were merely another dot in the bustle of the city and he managed to extract from you valuable material regarding the Honorary Knight (in truth, you have willingly told him everything you knew about the Hero of Mondstadt and this he was very pleased with). He learned about your family, your work, your past, and your ambition to adventure throughout the lands of Teyvat even without a Vision.

                He thought it was foolish of you to believe you can ever get out of your city without a Vision. There were too many enemies that a simple adventurer like you could easily be overwhelmed with. Not to mention the Fatuis that he and his fellow Harbingers has placed all throughout Teyvat. The thought of you getting hurt, especially by his own soldiers . . . it did not sit right with him.

                                 Arriving at Liyue Harbor, Scaramouche proposed that you come with him. It is no secret that anyone who do not possess a Vision cannot survive if they were ever to embark on a journey. Hearing your desire for an adventure, Scaramouche has come to decide that as gratitude for your pleasant company and for your compliance in giving him information about the renowned traveler, he shall take you along in his voyage, showing you the grandest landscapes, granting your every need and desires, all the while keeping you at his side where he was certain you were safe.

    It was all to thank you, nothing else. It wasn’t because Scaramouche knew he would find himself missing you and the comfort you bring when you leave, nor was it because he was fond of you. Yes, yes, all just to show his gratitude.

              As his soldiers watched as Scaramouche led you aboard in ship with his hand interlocked with yours, they thought the same thing – Scaramouche is never the one to show gratitude to anyone. You had him smitten.

How you were able to fall in love with Scaramouche in such a short period of time is fascinating. Especially with his horrid personality.

But he was different with you. He was gentle, caring, and never raised his voice. The insults remained but there was no venom behind them. It took you quite some time to get used to his belittling remarks but it didn’t evade your perception how Scaramouche begun lessening his insults, opting for a more playful jab instead.

He proposed to you over at dinner. He had just come back from an expedition and came home to a table filled with your cooking. As the two of you are exchanging your stories of what went with your lives when you two were separated, Scaramouche placed his chopsticks away, looked at you straight in the eyes and said, “Marry me.”

How can you say no to such a romantic proposal?

Actually, you made him redo his proposal before you accepted but nobody else has to know about that.

There was no best man for Scaramouche in your wedding. The man was feared by everyone, and his fellow Harbingers hated him. Childe did insist on being his best man at one point but he almost ended up being fried by a lightning bolt. Apparently, the 11th Harbinger pestered him for a whole week trying to convince him to let him be the best man so his actions were justified - just a little bit.

You have to give it to Scaramouche. Regardless of his busy schedule and the current predicament in Inazuma, he managed to find time and opportunity to plan your wedding and marry you without having to worry about the Electro Archon and her subjects.

Scaramouche scoffed at the tradition of not being able to see you on the very day of your wedding. What good would it be? You were going to be his wife, and he wanted to see his wife. He saw himself above tradition, and visited you first thing in the morning at the day of the wedding.

It was no question Scaramouche was an authoritative man but he was more so as he prepared himself for the wedding.

His maids ran about in the room, providing everything he needed and wanted. Scaramouche was not known for being compassionate, but this was the first time they’ve been on the receiving end of his wrath. Normally, he would ignore their existence and not even bother to call them by their names but today, he was different. He acted worse than when he comes home after a failed mission.

The maids knew he was beyond frustrated with the wedding. So, they called to ask for your help.

“Scaramouche, you’re scaring the maids.” You cooed as you came up behind him and placed your hands on his shoulders.

Scaramouche let out a scoff, but you felt his frame soften. He sat before a mirror, and he gazed at your reflection as he placed a hand over one of yours. “Even they weren’t so terrible with their jobs . . . ”

“You’re making things so hard for them. And for yourself too.” You stated. “Marrying me shouldn’t be hard, should it?”

That statement set Scaramouche right, and when you left to carry on with your own preparation and the maids returned to their duties, he was more civil with them. If that’s what you want, then he can endure it.

The hour has finally arrived. Scaramouche has faced many dangers in his life, but it was only now he felt restless. What is taking you so long? He thought you wanted to marry him. Then what’s warranting your late arrival?

At that thought, you finally appeared by the end of the aisle, holding a bouquet in your hands. Everyone in the venue gaped at your beauty, and Scaramouche was thankful you had everyone gazing at you. He didn’t want them to see the dumbfounded and poorly hidden lovestruck expression that crossed his mien for a moment.

But a sense of pride also touched him. 

That’s my bride.

When the ceremony begins, you and Scaramouche were seated side by side. You smiled brightly at him when you sat, but he didn’t any indication that he saw your smile and continued giving his undivided attention on the person conducting your wedding. You pouted heavily at this but said nothing and followed his actions. However, your smile returned when you felt his fingers hooking with yours. It was a small improvement, but it was intimate and loving.

Scaramouche didn’t cry in your wedding but when his arms held you tightly to his chest when evening came and two of you lied down on your shared bed, it was enough for you to know he loved you as much as you loved him.

Maybe more so.

     RAZOR

   Razor rarely experience human interaction, and if he did, it would be abrupt and depending on how the communication was being dealt by both parties, it would either be Razor who parts from them first out of wariness or lacking knowledge of being social or the other would, most of the time for the reason they find it disturbing a human could act so much like a wolf. The humans Razor constantly encounter are the hunters from Springvale and due to their bellowing voices and violence against his Lupicals, he has limited his ventures to Mondstadt unless something calls for an emergency.

        Other than the man who gave him his name, Razor only knew a handful of people – six of them being the Traveler, Traveler’s companion, Bennett, Klee, her big brother Albedo, and the woman he sees as his mentor, Lisa. He can only ever let his guard down when around them, though he was still a wee bit cautious of Albedo whenever Klee drags him to his camp.

                          He didn’t think he could meet anyone else who can consider a Lupical. That was until he met you. You were taking a peaceful stroll around Wolvendom – Archons know why you chose the most avoided place in Mondstadt to walk through – at the same time he was hunting down boars for his Lupicals.

  There was no rescuing or danger involved when he met you. It was a simple encounter, to which Razor was pleasantly surprised with. In almost all occasions, when he is meeting a fellow human being, it would be under rather unusual circumstances. He met the Traveler and her floating friend when they were being attacked by slimes. He met Lisa when she has painted the skies dark as she was singlehandedly fending herself off from a mob of Hilichurls. He met Klee when she was using her bombs to fish. He met Albedo in the middle of a chaotic experiment to which resulted in an evacuation. He met Bennett when he was hanging upside down from a tree when he tried to take an apple from a high branch, and the tree was up in flames.

                   To say, meeting you normally was a breath of fresh air.

      The two of you hit it off almost immediately, or so that is what it seems to you. Although you consider Razor a good friend even in just the few days you have met, he was still very careful of you. He had been deceived by humans before and it may be a little unfair to you since he trusted the Traveler and Bennett almost in an instant, he must first know you are trustworthy.

  And indeed, you’ve proven yourself as such. Perhaps, more so than the Traveler. You have done everything to show him you have no ill intentions against him and his Lupicals – helped him in hunting for sustenance for his family even if you have to knowledge in hunting, helping him broaden his vocabulary, helping him read and write – but it was your sacrifice to protect them that made him truly open himself up to you.

             An Abyss Mage has appeared out of nowhere and has wreaked havoc in their residence. Razor can feel his heart thundering as he raced through Wolvendom along with a few of his Lupicals who he had gone out with to hunt. Upon arriving at their home, Razor has anticipated to see the grass painted with red and wounded wolves whimpering in pain as others try to battle against the Abyss Mage. But to his relief, such image was not implemented into reality. Instead, he found his Lupicals sleeping soundly in their den, and the remains of the Abyss Mage has slowly evaporated in thin air. As the particles gradually disappeared, they made way for your presence to be revealed.

           Razor let out a gasp when he laid eyes on you. Bruised, bleeding, exhausted, but smiling as you happily waved at him with the hand clutching your weapon.

                              You happily advanced towards him, tittering. Razor reached out to take your hand, and reluctantly asked of your welfare. Now he understood why humans ask how one is fairing when they are clearly unwell – they do not know what else to say.

                      “Why would you do that?” Razor questioned as he brought you far from his den to tend to your wounds without waking his family. “You are hurt now.”

    “I can’t let an Abyss Mage hurt your Lupical.” You answered firmly, the smile you wore dissipating as you gazed into his eyes. “I might not be as strong as the Honorary Knight or Acting Grand Master Jean, but I fought well.”

               What was this odd sensation he was feeling? This strong urge to protect you, to take you in his arms and never let you go – what was this? He has never felt like this before. So light, so . . . flustered. He thought this feeling would be gone after a few days, but months has passed and since then, the feeling became more prominent, stronger. All the time he could never get enough of you and there will always be that lingering trickle of pain in his chest when you have to leave for the day. Razor knew you would come back the day after when the night has gone, but it never stopped that little ache.

                          Razor understood that he lacked understanding of feelings, so he confided to Bennett about it. Bennett was almost as clueless as Razor about feelings – almost – but he did know when someone was taking a liking of someone in a more amorous manner. He has filled Razor about exactly what he was feeling for you, and not the kind of feeling that he has for him and the Traveler, but the kind of liking he would have towards a . . . girlfriend? (Bennett had to explain to him the meaning behind girlfriend and it was no easy task).

            “Liking someone like a girlfriend . . . ” Razor muttered, scrunching his face in puzzlement. “ . . . like a mate?”

                                 Bennett flushed at the word but nodded. “Yes, like a mate.”

                                                Bennett tried his best to help Razor confess to you, and this is where disaster happened. Since Razor is mostly uneducated in terms of romantic feelings, he did not feel any anxiety crawling up to him when he decided to admit his feelings to you. The problem is that he has decided to confess in a wrong time and in a difficult situation.

       “You should confess to her after you’ve saved her from danger!” Exclaimed Bennett, beaming at Razor.

                   The latter tilted his head to the side. “Razor doesn’t . . . get it.”

    “Well, in the books I’ve read, the guys confess to the girls they like in a dangerous time. I don’t know how that’s safe, but it works. But since we don’t want to hurt ( Your Name ), you’ll save her before confessing!”

                    Bless his innocent heart, Razor trusted Bennett’s word without a smidge of doubt. His opportunity to admit his feelings came when the two of you saw Reckless Pallad being surrounded by Hilichurls getting ready to pounce on him. The thing is you too knew your way around a battlefield and have efficiently begun fighting off the Hilichurls. Razor watched as you made quick work of rescuing Reckless Pallad and he didn’t even notice himself beginning to pout in disappointment until you were right in front of him again, worriedly gazing at him.

             “Razor, what’s wrong?” You questioned, appraising him. “You’re not injured, are you?”

                                     He shook his head. “Razor not injured.” He confirmed.

        “Well, that’s good, but why aren’t you moving? We need to save that man.”

                            “Razor wanted to confess to ( Your Name ) by saving her.”

       Razor explained the plan of his confession he conspired with Bennett, how he would save you from danger and tell you his everlasting love that he didn’t notice the redness tinting your cheeks and the wide smile stretching across your face.

           Razor only took note of the phenomenon occurring on your features when he has finished elaborating his scheme. He narrowed his eyes curiously. “Your face is all . . . red. Sick?” He asked.

                                                                         Razor didn’t have a chance to further speculate just exactly was ailing you before you took hold of his face and softly placed your lips against him, catching him off guard.

                                      There was a blossom in his chest when you kissed him – this is love, right? Razor decided there and then he liked this feeling of love.

                      Needless to say, Reckless Pallad was left alone for the Traveler to save. Again.

Razor had no idea what weddings were. He has never heard of such thing before. The first time he did learn about it was when he was hanging out with you and the Traveler. The latter mentioned that you and him are invited in a wedding. Razor tilted his head in confusion but when he turned to ask you what it was, he froze. Your eyes were shimmering with joy and excitement. Razor liked seeing you like that.

So when you were preoccupied, Razor asked the Traveler what a wedding was. Perhaps a wedding was some sort of food that he can find in the wild?

After Traveler has explained what weddings are and the concept of marriage as well, Razor did not waste time trying to propose to you. Since he had no money to buy a very expensive ring, he asked Bennett for help to find materials so he can make one of his own. In the end, they had Wagner help them form a ring. It wasn’t exactly the best looking but when Razor showed it to you and asked for your hand in marriage (Traveler helped him with his proposal speech and had to explain that asking for your hand doesn’t mean literal), and he saw the pure joy on your face, he thought it was pretty enough for you.

Razor didn’t know you were happy mostly because he proposed to you but you didn’t tell him. He looked so proud with the ring.

Your wedding was small and only a very few people were invited. Klee insisted on being one of the flower girls and Razor almost agreed until she began spouting about bombs which will detonate in the air and will explode with flowers. Albedo advised Razor not to make her one of the flower girls because Klee, for sure, will bring flower bombs (it will explode with flowers, but the explosion is still there).

Razor chose Bennett as his best man. That was supposed to be a good thing but when the two of those pair up together, they can tend to cause a lot of chaos, unintentionally.

At the day of the wedding, nearly all the invitees refuse to enter the cathedral as they claim there was danger inside. When Kaeya and Jean came to inspect this danger they speak of, both wielded their weapons once seeing a pack of wolves huddled at the front, just before the altar, with Bennett and Razor telling them to behave.

You had to explain to Razor why it was dangerous and made people uncomfortable when there are wolves present in the cathedral. Although Razor was understandably disappointed by this, he conceded and brought his Lupicals back to Wolvendom. To make it up to him, you promised a private celebration will be held in Wolvendom with nobody else but you, him, Bennett, and of course, his Lupicals.

Razor didn’t know why Bennett seemed more nervous than him when the two of them were standing by the altar. 

“I’m going to ruin your wedding, Razor! Aren’t you worried?”

“ . . . but you not ruining anything . . . ?”

When you finally arrived in the cathedral, Razor felt excitement surge in his body and he can hardly stop himself from squirming on his seat. 

But he wasn’t smiling. These emotions . . . he was having a hard time comprehending them. It was good, it was nice, but it was overwhelmingly so.

He could have cried, and he almost did but when you were before him, smiling at him, he couldn’t help but smile back.

His beautiful wife, his Lupical.

Bennett was the one who cried in your wedding.

     ALBEDO

                It was always a fascinating sight to see a traveler meandering through Dragonspine without minding the sheer cold or flawlessly fending themselves off from the enemies lurking around. Even Albedo has some degree of difficult in navigating his way back to his camp without the Fatui spotting him or tailing him. But it was more fascinating to see a young woman standing in the middle of a freezing lake with nothing but her trousers and her brassiere.

                            It was a peculiar meeting, yes, but out of the ordinary people and matters has always endeared him.

    Albedo brought you to his camp as quickly as he can and asked Timaeus to hand you a cup of warm tea and a blanket. After thanking him for his kindness and consuming half of the beverage generously given to you, you introduced yourself.

             You were an adventurer who came all the way from Liyue to embark on a journey to discover the harshness and secrets that laid within Dragonspine, a mountain many do not dare set foot further in. Other than the mentioned reasons, training was a top priority of yours. You claim one cannot go further in their adventure while being comfortable in their current, and he completely agrees with your statement. When Albedo questioned why you had been in the middle of a lake in Dragonspine, you answered that being able to withstand the cold was just part of your training and seeing as he had caught you shivering to close to death, it was not going well.

                            Albedo didn’t think he would see you again after you parted from him, but he was surprised when the next day he found you waiting for him in his camp, a smile on your face as you stand proudly and wave at him.

   Something about you piqued his interest, if his interest was somehow related to how his heart accelerated whenever you come close to him to offer help with his experiment, or when his face grows hot if you offer him a compliment. He thought it was your way of showing him your gratefulness for taking care of you yesterday, so he allowed your presence in his camp, around him. Albedo didn’t expect you to visit again the next day, and the day after that, and so on and so forth. But he can’t say he disliked your frequent visitations, or your presence that always seem to be following him everywhere he went. He very much liked your company and thoroughly enjoyed listening about your adventures and everything you came across in your adventure. They were a good distraction from his experiments. Everything about you set his mind in ease.

             It wasn’t long until the two of you are spending more time together alone. No experiments, no work in mind. It just the two of you keeping one another company and sharing stories about your days, and making banters here and there – whether it be in a walk under the moon, or sharing a meal in Good Hunter, or while he paints somewhere in Dragonspine.

                 Although Albedo was not well versed in the complexity of romance and has deemed relationships to be rather tedious to uphold, but he was knowledgeable enough to know that in the process of his growing friendship with you, he has caught feelings for you.

  This has certainly brought difficulty in his relationship with you. Albedo, although never verbally admitting so, has always thought of feelings as a nuisance. In a relationship, in his own observation, disadvantages trump over advantages. He had seen the irrationality that love has caused, the stupidity. His observation led him to one conclusion – other than being friends with people, relationships is not for him.

           You have put him in a challenging situation. It would have been easy to cut ties with you if you haven’t successfully infiltrated his walls and snaked your way in his heart. The very thought of pushing you away was repulsive to him. Seeing the hurt cross your features – it will haunt him for the rest of his life.

                      The interest he had for you was not interest at all. It was the beginning of love. He should have been more alert, and this wouldn’t have happened.

                                 What if you returned his feelings and your relationship did not work? There was no way your friendship could be salvaged. Isn’t it much better to remain as friends than risk ruining any chance of keeping you in his life?

  No, no, that would be insanely idiotic. It will eat him up. Thus, he treated his feelings for you like an experiment. Dipping carefully, testing the waters – confessing to you.

        He can construct a confession that will perfectly enunciate his feelings for you while emphasizing your freedom to reject him and his desire to remain good friends with you. Surely, you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. All he needed is for you to let him down, and he will hope you can still see him the same way after.

            All his preparations, however, were thrown out of the window when you beat him to confessing.

   Albedo had no idea how struck his expression must have been with puzzlement, anxiety and flatter as he attentively listens to every word that leaves your lips. His heart pounded at everything you were saying – everything he adored about you, you adored about him. Being unable to speak his mind felt foreign to him. After you finished your confession, a beautiful red hue coloring your cheeks as you looked into his eyes with hopefully eyes, all he can do his open his mouth a smidge, and close, and then open again. He must have resembled a goldfish at that time.

                      Albedo couldn’t believe it. You loved him, and here he was expecting to be rejected and thinking relationships were a waste of time.

                                          He was in a dilemma now. Accept your feelings as his heart desired to, or gently reject you for practicality? Having a lover would complicate his life and he will risk so many things that he were used to just to be able to keep his relationship with you fruitful. Was he ready for something like that?

           This was the first time Albedo has listened to his heart. He still remembered how he cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours, muffling the gasp that tumbled out of you.

                                Albedo might be a stranger to romance but he is an Alchemist and risks are part of his job, and risking coming out of his comfort to be with you was something you deserve, and maybe something he deserved as well.

You knew Albedo was going to propose to you. He was always immersed in his experiments and research that you took the responsibility of tidying up his lab. It did not take long for you to find a small black box nestled in the back inside a drawer filled with haphazardly thrown papers and used pens.

Albedo knew that you knew he was going to propose to you. The two of you were taking a peaceful stroll around Dragonspine and after a heartfelt speech, he knelt down to one knee, he curiously watched as you malfunctioned right in front of him, trying to elect which route of surprise should you take before displaying a less then satisfactory theatrics of surprise.

Nonetheless, the two of you are still happy.

You and Albedo agreed that the two of you will have a small and private wedding. Klee, however, did not. She was less than thrilled to hear about that and went on a whole spiel of the reasons why you should have the biggest and most fun wedding ever, as she said.

“ - then where will a really, really tall wedding cake and Klee is going to make a bomb that will explode in the skies where it will burst out many pretty flower petals - ”

Jean promised the two of you that she will keep an eye on her at the day of the wedding.

Albedo is adamant on two things - a small wedding, and having no best man, and the latter had two reasons. Although he is highly respected in Mondstadt, there was no one he could ask to be best man, and the second reason is that he loves you and is certain that marrying you is something he wants. No doubts. He didn’t need a best man helping him in something he didn’t need help with.

Albedo was also not someone to conform to the ritual of not seeing the bride on the day of the wedding until the very ceremony, but for you, he begrudgingly followed.

On the day of the wedding, Albedo prepared himself without the help of anyone. He prepared his own clothes and had Klee braid his hair (it was a wee bit sloppy and Albedo fixed them when she had her back turned to him and gave her all the credit).

The man reached for the door to visit you but he let out a sigh when he realized that he cannot. He made a promise that today, the first time he’ll see you is when you walk down the aisle. He has to keep his promise. Not to mention Klee blocked his way and reminded him of that (tried to block).

Albedo was a patient man. Patience was nothing new to him. His research and experiments needed patience or they will ultimately fail. It came to the point where being impatient made him uncomfortable. That’s exactly what was happening when he was standing at the altar. Nobody, not even the observant Kaeya himself, can tell Albedo was beginning to lose his patience.

The day had been a little too long. He wanted to see you already. It didn’t matter if the ceremony would take a while before he can kiss you and call you his wife. He just wanted to see you again.

Albedo turned away the moment you stepped inside the cathedral. You were far from repulsive or ugly (and he can never think of you like that), but he had to cast his gaze somewhere but on you. He knew you’ll be beautiful in your wedding dress, but seeing you now with your adorable and shy smile, with Cecilia flowers in your hands, and your eyes fixated on him and only him - Albedo nearly lost his composure.

This time he was sure Kaeya saw it.

“Waah, big sister ( Your Name ) looks soooo pretty!” Klee cooed loudly, causing the guests to let out a few chuckles of amusement.

His impatience was beginning to pierce through him. The moment you faced him, Albedo did not waste time grabbing your hands, and once he did, you saw him visibly soften, as though a huge burden was lifted from his shoulders.

“What happened to you?” You asked, giggling.

Albedo returned your smile. “I’m just very happy to see you.”

The fervor that he exuded when he kissed you certainly supported his statement.

THOSE WHO WILL HIDE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RECEPTION TO CRY SOMEWHERE NO ONE CAN SEE THEM

     CHONGYUN

    Chongyun was known for two things – being an exorcist and having a type of condition that needed his keen observation and awareness.

       He has always disliked his condition. Whenever his Yang energy overwhelms, he must immediately consume an icy treat to be able to soothe his nerves. But it seems he can be thankful for it for this one time. If it wasn’t for his congenital positivity, he wouldn’t have stumbled across you, and your hundred homemade ice cream you smuggled out of your own home.

                      Chongyun had been hurrying to meet his friend at that day. He had just finished an exorcism somewhere in Qingce Village and was rushing to where he and Xingqiu usually meet in Liyue. He was already running late, and who knows what Xingqiu will do if he was late again. He let out a pained yelp when he crashed against your form when he made a sharp turn, and his Yang energy has never been in a more unstable state than when he saw you seated on the ground, groaning in pain, with peculiar looking containers littering the floor around you.

                   Chongyun had profusely apologized for his actions and assisted you in gathering all the belongings he had knocked off your possession. He felt the coldness in the small containers you once held and wondered what was inside. He hasn’t seen anything like this before. He knew his Yang energy was starting to ooze out of him but he underestimated its manifestation until you placed your hand over his forehead. He pulled back away instantly, startled by your actions, to which you immediately apologized.

        “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He repeated, light blue hair bobbing with his movements as he bowed his head over to you again and again, mortification palpable on his features. “I-I didn’t mean to run – ”

                        “No, no, I should be the one apologizing! I wasn’t looking where I was going and I put my hand on you all of a sudden – ” You were about to continue spewing apologies and explanations when you froze, concern etching across his face. “ - oh, hey, you’re really, really red. Are you okay?”

                  Even when it had been years since his encounter with you, he still gets embarrassed when he remembered that, and you and Xingqiu tease him about it.

                                           He explained to you then about his condition and when you offered him a container you owned containing ice cream you made, that’s when your friendship begun. When the two of you snuck out to a secluded area in Liyue Harbor to gorge on the tons of ice cream you have once again brought out of your house despite your mother’s warnings did he know it would be a friendship that will last long. His only regret was that he introduced you to Xingqiu, and now he must endure double the teasing.

                       One thing he appreciated about you was how ready you were whenever you were with him. You made it your point to know what can cause his condition to act up and soothe him by your words, and always having ice cream with you. And the best part was that the ice cream you give him is always homemade, made by you. His popsicles could never compete to your masterpiece.

    He never really thought of you as someone he would be romantically interested in. Sure, there were instances when his Yang energy would flare up because of having you by his side, when your smile brought upon his own, when his heart raced when you held his hand as the two of you were returning from a commission, when he gazed at you with adoration when you took care of him and fed him cold noodles when he was having a fever (he refused to eat hot noodles even in his illness). Surely, all friends do that with one another, right? And feeling this odd sensation in his chest was normal, right?

                      When he confided in Xingqiu with this, the boy laughed at his cluelessness. It wasn’t surprising. Chongyun did not have a lot of friends so distinguishing friendship and romance was not easy for him. The Hydro Vision holder filled him in with everything he has to know about relationships, and he used some pretty unconventional ways like giving him a too descriptive image of how a man and woman would kiss, and other explicit doings of adults.

         But it did bring light one thing – Chongyun liked you, and of course how he handled such revelation was, simply put, disastrous.

                                      His entire body felt hot, and he was stammering to the point even the ever so eloquent Xingqiu cannot understand him. Normally, when things get like this, he’ll rush over to your place and request for some of your delicious ice cream but seeing as you were somehow part of the reason for this, he had to rely on Xingqiu to take care of him.

                      After learning about his feelings for you, Chongyun have never been more uneasy around you, which was odd, and he was sure you’ve noticed, and yet has never dropped any comment about it.

                     He was always nervous around you. Blushing whenever you come close to him, jumping when you take his hand in his, stammering whenever you praise him for anything, feeling the need to run away if you ask him about how he was fairing – he has lost count just how many popsicles he has eaten just to keep his cool. He has stopped asking ice cream from you and declined any offer from you because he thought accepting your homemade ice creams could lead him to falling deeper in love with you until he couldn’t move on anymore.

             Chongyun didn’t notice your growing impatience. He was so immersed in his own feelings that he didn’t take into consideration how you felt whenever he flinched away from your touch and rejected your treats.

   It took Xingqiu for the growing tension between the two of you to alleviate. He made an elaborate plan to get the two of you together in an isolated place (a broom closet) and has made a claim not to let any of you go until the two of you have confessed your feelings with each other.

                      “Just tell me what’s wrong with you, Chongyun! Why are you acting so weird around me?” You asked him but he refused to answer you just as he refused to look at you.

      You let out a sigh as you reached out to take his hand but when he pulled away from your touch, that was the last straw.

               “If you don’t want to be friends with me anymore, just say so.”

          Alarmed, Chongyun faced you, stuttering. “No! Of course, I want to be friends with you - I mean, I don’t want to be friends - wait, that sounded wrong, and so bad - ”

   Your brows burrowed together in question. “You want to be friends but you don’t want to be friends?”

   Chongyun groaned as he buried his face on his hands. It’s now or never.

                “I like you, ( Your Name ).”

           The silence that followed was deafening for Chongyun. He removed his hands from his face and prepared himself to apologize and beg to continue being friends when he felt hands cup his face, and your lips pressing against his. It was a good thing you had ice cream on you even after he avoided you for weeks. He almost fainted in your arms if it wasn’t for you shoving a finger in his mouth with a scoop of ice cream. 

                                   It was one of the few times Chongyun was grateful for Xingqiu’s interest in romantic tropes because if it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t have left that room with a blushing but happy face with you.

      Xingqiu smirked as the two of you exited the room, hand in hand and redness coating your cheeks. “Well, well, well, look who - ”

                    “Shut up, Xingqiu,” You and Chongyun chorused. The two of you looked at each other out of surprise and then burst out laughing, all the while the Hydro Vision user stood by the side, sighing.

         “Now, I have to deal with these two’s teasing.”

When Chongyun realized he was ready to propose to you after years of being together, he asked Xingqiu to propose to you on his behalf.

His best friend nearly destroyed his book from whacking the Cryo user for thinking such an inane idea could work. Not only was it not romantic, it was also inappropriate. Xingqiu had to reprimand him for an entire hour proposing that idea but being a good best friend that he is despite his mischievous streak, he vowed to help the man propose to you.

It was no easy task and there were times where Chongyun held himself back and risking yet another proposal plan. He was thankful Xingqiu was well versed with romance and everything entailed with it and knew more ways to help him. After a countless of delays, Chongyun managed to get down on one knee one fine evening by the trails leading to Liyue Harbor, spew out affirmation of his love for you in stammers, and asked for your hand in marriage.

When you accepted his proposal and adorned your finger with the ring, Chongyun discreetly showed a thumbs up to a nearby bush. About three hands popped out from the leaves, offering the same action.

Xingqiu let out a sigh as Xiangling and Xinyan giggled. “Finally.” He breathed out. “Now, time for me to be his best man.”

Of course, Chongyun chose him as his best man. Who else would be a better choice than him? 

Chongyun is firm about Xingqiu being his best man but sometimes he can be a little bit . . . pushy, especially when it comes to something he believes in.

There was a tradition where he cannot see you for a whole week until the ceremony. Chongyun was mildly bothered by this arrangement but nonetheless, since you agree with it, he will respect your wishes and do the same. Xingqiu has over and over again tried to persuade him to visit you at home, and he made some interesting points why he should. He almost convinced him a few times but in the end, he refused to be lured in his trap and stopped the temptation of breaking his promise.

He missed you dearly, yes, and his patience will surely be rewarded soon.

Chongyun, as expected, was freaking out at the day of wedding. Marriage is a huge step for the both of you. You’re not going to regret marrying him, will you? What if this marriage didn’t work? He’ll lose you for you.

Xingqiu had to guide him away from the altar and to a corner for privacy. Other than you, Xingqiu was a person who had been when his condition start acting up and how it worked.

After successfully cooling him down with a popsicle, Xingqiu consoled Chongyun. “I don’t know what you’re thinking about back there but you have nothing to worry about. ( Your Name ) loves you.”

“What if it doesn’t work between us?”

“It will. I’ve seen how you two are. You’re perfect for each other. I think you already know that, and ( Your Name ) does too. Why would she accept your proposal if she didn’t think the two of you wouldn’t prosper together?”

Chongyun murmured. “Pity?”

If Xingqiu had a book with at that moment, he would have smacked Chongyun again.

Once his condition has subsided, Chongyun returned to the altar and Xingqiu stood behind him, waiting.

The moment you arrived, Chongyun can feel himself heating up and his heart pounding against his chest. It felt like his condition was acting up but he wasn’t feeling nauseous or at the edge of fainting. It was a pleasant sort of warmth, the warmth he felt when he first met you.

No. It was the same warmth that travels through his body whenever he sees you, but this time, it was stronger to the point he it almost felt like his condition.

Your smile immediately disappeared when you saw Chongyun flushed red and his eyes averting from yours.

Worry encapsulated you. “Is your condition acting up?” You asked in a whisper.

Chongyun blinked, puzzled. “What?”

Discreetly taking a gander at the audience completely unaware of your interaction, you slipped your hand under your dress and showed Chongyun was a small ice cream container.

“I brought this with me just in case.”

Chongyun decided he made the best decision of his life to marry you.

He took your hands in his and pressed a small kiss on top of one.

“Thank you, love.”

After the wedding, Chongyun immediately visited the comfort room. You tried to follow him but Xingqiu told you there was nothing to worry about, and he was right.

When he entered the comfort room, Chongyun locked the door behind him and headed straight to the sink to splash some water on his face.

One won’t be able to tell Chongyun was crying from the water streaming down his face.

He looked up at the mirror, staring at his reflection as he let out a small, and content sigh.

“I’m married. I’m married to her.” Chongyun tried to hold back his smile, but he failed. “She’s my . . . wife.”

And did it sound nice to call you his wife.

     XIAO

              It was his duties to Rex Lapis, to the thriving land of Liyue, that kept Xiao grounded and his mind temporarily fleeting away from the karmic debts that weighed on his shoulders. If it had not been for the responsibilities laid down on him, he was sure to have succumb to the consequences of his bloodshed from the past long ago. It was the reason behind his creation, to serve the people of Liyue and protect them from any transgressors or anything that could potentially lead to their destruction, and it was all he knew. His existence was all for Liyue, and to seek out the desires of Rex Lapis and accomplish them no matter how difficult and by what means.

    Day and night he oversees every part of Liyue and hears every call of his name and seeks refuge in Wangshu Inn. It was a cycle that has never changed ever since the gruesome war between gods has taken place in Teyvat, and all was same until that night when he heard a cry for help from a distant place, and rescued a strange maiden from the peril she found herself in.

                          Love at first sight disgusted him the most. He can understand, to some degree, that mortals can fall in love with people they have built a caring and trusting relationship with but falling in love with someone who one has no dust of knowledge of their identity was simply unwise and incomprehensible. And yet there he was, leaping from the precipice of a soaring mountain and securing the mortal in the middle of her fall.

               Xiao had no clue why it felt like time has stopped and they have gently floated in the air as he took a gander at the woman in his arms. Scratches littered her features, and twigs adorned her mop of hair, but she still shone brighter than the stars and moon behind her.

   He did not let her speak to him after he has placed her safely on solid ground and he quickly took his leave without even a glance back.

                          When he had painted the lands of Teyvat red with the other Yakshas, he did not blink an eye or feel a bead of sweat trail on the side of his face. But that woman has caused his chest to flutter, and he always find himself thinking back to the day he had saved her. If he had been like any other mortal which has sleep as a necessity, he would find himself thinking of you every morning and every night, longing for another chance to meet you again. What has she done to him? He already has to carry the burden of his sins, and now he must endure this painful curse she casted on him?

              But it didn’t matter now. She was already long gone, for all he knows, and he doesn’t even know her name.

    Xiao already came to accept that she was merely going to fleet away from his mind, a distant memory that his heart will ache every time he remembers her. He had many regrets in his lifetime, and this leaving her behind without knowing her name is one of them.

                                    But it seems to him that Rex Lapis has taken favor of him and has graced his undeserving existence. Xiao had just exterminated a Hilichurl camp getting increasingly close to Wangshu Inn when his ears preened and his pupils dilated – that voice, the same voice that he never thought he’d hear again, was calling out for him again. He did not find the time to dispose of the monsters in a more appropriate location where they will no longer continue their venture towards the inn, and quickly made his way to where he heard her.

           When he arrived, it did not take long for him to spot her standing perfectly still in front of him, hands behind her back. His eyes dilated as he took in her familiar form. Her tresses were no longer matted with twigs and mud, the scratches that once marred her skin no longer present, and a smile has replaced the cowering fear that adorned her visage before.

                   Xiao ignored the increasing heartbeat that drummed against his chest and surveyed the area with a flick of his spear. “There’s no danger.” He remarked after assessing the parameter, his mask dissipating into the night as he returned his gaze back at her.

       She rubbed her arm as she averted her eyes from him. “I spent months trying to find you again.” The mortal woman murmured. “When all has failed, I thought back to that night you saved me, and I called – and you came.”

                                         Xiao did not speak another word, but he was afraid that you can hear how loud his heart was racing. He needed to ignore his selfishness, he needed to leave. “If you’re not in any danger, then I’ll be leaving.”

  He turned around to do as he said, but his eyes widened when he felt your hand around his wrist.

                “Wait, please,” She pleaded, and when he looked over his shoulder, any resolve of leaving her again vanished. She was looking at him with hopeful and vibrant orbs. How can he ever let her down when she’s looking at him like that?

      Xiao let out a sigh and turned back around to meet her properly, but her hand never left him. Were you afraid he might disappear as quickly as he did like last time?

                                    “Don’t go.”

                   “Why not?” Xiao questioned. “If you know anything about an Adeptus, then you understand my duties.”

              She bit her lip as he withdrew her hold. Xiao missed the warmth she gave him already. “I know that but . . . ” She trailed off. “ . . . can I . . . at least know your name?”

                                                Xiao did not give her an answer.

            “Even if we never meet again, I want to at least know the name of man who saved me.” She mumbled softly. “But I’m afraid if I ever know your name, I’ll never get to think of any other man but you.”

                                                    Xiao appraised you, taking in her apprehensive frame. A mortal has fallen in love with an Adeptus? This was preposterous. He saved her months ago, and back then they shared little time together. Too little to gain feelings for him.

    But still, he found himself relenting to your wishes.

                                     “Xiao,” He answered. “My name is Xiao.”

            Don’t look for another man. I’m here. I’m staying.

                   That’s how he met his first and last love, ( Your Name ).

Xiao has lived in Teyvat for thousands of years and is knowledgeable of the culture of mortals, one of them being marriage. He had witnessed humans bounding themselves to another, promising to cherish them, protect them, to love them. For Xiao, marriage is something far from disgusting. Although he cannot understand the need for them to be together under an oath, it was undeniable that many great things and opportunities birthed from them.

However, no matter how beautiful it is for them, it will never stop perplexing Xiao. How is it that one can look at another and know that they’re the one? Are they not afraid to be betrayed? Are humans so willing to have themselves get hurt and offer forgiveness for the sake of love? It’s confusing for him.

Not until you came along that it made sense. Every argument, every disagreement, sleepless nights, every sincere apology, every countless forgiveness, every embrace, every kiss - is this what mortals feel? If so, he’ll endure all the hardships of love if it means staying by your side, and he knew that you feel the same.

Unfortunately, Xiao is not one for marriage.

Not that he does not love you - oh Archons, because he did, deeply so - but the consequences of your relationship always hang in front of him.

 It’s already a risk to let you in his heart and love someone as sinful as him, but the thought of you bearing his karmic debt terrified him.

What happens if the two of you are bound together, and under a contract that Rex Lapis will surely oversee? Will the demons that torment him sink their teeth on your pure and innocent soul? Will he see the life in your eyes wither as you strive to remain with him? And what if you try to break the contract to escape karma? Will the both of you suffer in karma and the wrath of the rock?

Xiao can’t do that to you. This is one way he can guarantee your safety. It hurts him to know he cannot marry you, and it hurt more when he saw the disappointment and pain in your eyes when he explained himself. But keeping you safe is his top priority. He deserved this punishment, he can’t put it over your shoulders too.

But that didn’t stop Xiao from imagining how your wedding could have been if things we’re a little different.

A small wedding in a place of your choice with only a handful of close friends and families. You’ll wear a gorgeous dress and walk up to where he is with the same smile you wore when he met you for the second time.

As you stand before him, Xiao could only imagine the happiness and contentment he would feel at that time. 

He’ll hold you close, hear you laugh, and then he’ll press his lips against yours, sealing you to a promise that everything that he is, and everything that he has, is yours.

He’ll find himself retreating somewhere private. He didn’t want you to see him vulnerable, weak, as he cried for the first time in his life, and for the greatest reason.

He could have a chance of happiness, but he can’t.

It was all a dream.

A dream he will never achieve, a dream of yours that he can never grant.

“Xiao, you’re still awake?”

The man looked away from the moon and looked over his shoulder to see you standing by the threshold leading to the terrace. You were tired, and yet you woke up to tend to him. 

“You know I don’t need sleep.”

“But you always lie next to me. What’s wrong? Something bothering you?”

Xiao did not respond, and you didn’t push any further. He adored it how you know when to prod to a subject or not. You know him so well.

After a moment of silence, you walked over to him and sat  beside him on the railing. You looked up at the moon, and Xiao slowly placed his head over your shoulder.

He felt at peace.

Xiao closed his eyes, dreaming of a day that will never come when he can marry you without anything holding him back.

     KAZUHA

                        Kazuha can no longer remember how long it has been since he was on the run from the shogunate. The Electro Archon and her subjects are on the hunt for Visions of every single person residing in the walls of Inazuma, and he was one of the few who refused to have their Visions confiscated from them. It seems exiling him from his homeland was no longer sufficient and the said Archon has ordered for every so-called transgressor that they banished to be apprehended and have their Visions forcefully taken from them. It was only his luck that Beidou, and the crew she captained, has taken him under their wing and he has been sailing the seas with them since then.

            Has it been months? Days? Or perhaps weeks? Being away from land with nothing but the ocean to take in and his mind seemingly always preoccupied with his doubts and worries has him losing track of time.

   In all honesty, he doesn’t remember the last time he stepped on dry land. Perhaps they did, but it was not a memory that has fleeted a long time ago. All he can think about was Inazuma, the threat of being having his Vision taken, and his past he buried deep within the back of his mind.

            Beidou must have taken notice of his continuous lackluster attitude and has set sail for Liyue for him to take a break from the seas. This, of course, he appreciated though he insisted Beidou that she did not have to dock just for him to clear his mind.

          Back at that time Beidou claimed she knew what is best for him and she should put his trust on him, and with the lack of reasons to refute her statement, Kazuha merely let out a sigh and agreed to land in Liyue.

                         He has never been to Liyue, or to put it more accurately, he has never stepped foot in in the few times the Crux made their return on Liyue. It wasn’t because he hated it there, but he felt more comfortable and more at home inside the ship. The furthest he has gone was on the docks to help the crew load supplies in their next sail. But now Beidou has encouraged him to leave the ship and explore, and implied being forbidden to come aboard if he refused to do as she says.

       When Beidou said she knows what is best for him, maybe she was right. He must admit, even if he was still longing to return to his homeland, Liyue had many sights and delicacies to offer. But the best and most beautiful sight he saw was up on a rooftop when he was resting from hours of mindless meandering in the streets.

                                                              He played with a green leaf that fluttered over to him after it has been carried away by the wind from its tree, and he pressed his lips against it to whistle a melody. The tune was buried under the bustle of the city night but it seems that one picked it up from the terrace just below him.

                    Kazuha saw a girl around his age walk out to the terrace, head moving left and right, as though looking for something. Kazuha did not think much of this behavior assuming she was searching for something else, and he tore his eyes away from her and nonchalantly continued to whistle against the leaf.

                                           “So, that was you who was making that beautiful sound.”

                Kazuha casted his gaze down to see the girl on the terrace looking up at him as she leaned against the railing with her arms crossed, a gleeful smile present on her brims. He pulled the leaf from his lips as he regarded her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to – ”          

          She shook her head, chuckling. “No, no, it’s fine. You can stay there.” She assured, and Kazuha eased on his spot. She stared at the leaf in his hand. “I didn’t know you can make a tune using a leaf.”

                      Kazuha flashed her a small smile. “It’s something only a few can do. It’s pretty hard to master.”

                     “And you’re one of those few.” She remarked. Silence prevailed between the two until she spoke again. “Can you play something for me?”

      Kazuha was bewildered by her request. It wasn’t common to find a foreigner sitting on the rooftop of her household. One would think that their first reaction should be an accusation of trespassing and a demand for identification, but no. This girl was different, you were different.

                    Kazuha did not question your request, just as you have not questioned him of his place on your rooftop. Instead, he granted your wish. He pressed the leaf against his lips and blew, a tune of his own composition sounding in the air.

      He watched in awe as you raised both your hands to your chest and white particles formed above your palm, creating a shape until it formed and bloomed into an elegant wooden lyre. Without saying anything else, you strum the strings along with his tune, and the people of Liyue beneath their feet are unaware of the small haven the two of them created together.

               Kazuha is more than grateful for Beidou for pushing him to go to Liyue. Ever since that night, he has made constant visits to your house. Early in the morning – that’s when Beidou would barge into the barracks and force them out of their beds – he would always be the one out of the door to finish his tasks and leave immediately to visit you, a prominent smile over his face. The crew, of course, has pestered him to tell him of the reason for his constant leaving and he could only let out a sigh of relief when Beidou shooed them away from him and asked them to return to their work. She winked at him right after and whispered, “Go and hurry to your girlfriend.” To which he denied with a shy grumble before making haste to Liyue.

                               Liyue was brighter than the isolationist Inazuma has become, and one of the reasons Kazuha thought this was you. The Crux was like a family to him, and Beidou was like an older sister to him, but you – he has never felt more soothed than in your presence. You felt like home, and it has been so long since he had felt like he was at home. Seeing you smile, hearing you laugh, seeing how you nod attentively as he talked, your arms embracing him when he opened up to you about his past, the music you played together in perfect harmony even without practice – it was all so surreal.

        Kazuha didn’t have to tell you about his growing feelings for you. He knew that you knew.

  It started with a shy kiss, and then a longer one, and the two of you found solace in each other’s arms. There was no music playing, and there were no stories shared – just him with his arms around your figure and lips connected with yours. None of you dare say it but your days together were slowly coming to an end, and it won’t be long until the day comes when he has to set sail to visit neighboring nations.

                  But Kazuha will always come back to you, that he promises.

After a few years of frequent visiting and writing letters to one another, Kazuha has finally decided that it was time for him to propose to you. Beidou - being the supportive big sister she is to him - upon hearing of his plan, gathered her crew to help Kazuha in his objective. Everything from food, drinks, location (they chose the ship), and atmosphere, they provided. As thanks for their dedication and help, they only ask an invitation to his wedding, to which Kazuha replied will surely come even if they did not help.

The crew claimed that they shall be far away as possible from the ship so that the two of you can have your privacy, but Kazuha, and definitely you, as well, heard loud cheering from a short distance followed by a shushing Beidou when you accepted his proposal.

“I thought they said they’d be at Wanmin Restaurant - ”

“To be honest, I didn’t really believe them.”

Unlike the other boys who were hesitant of not seeing the bride for a week until the wedding, Kazuha was actually the one to push this tradition. He disliked it as much as the other boys, but Kazuha loved being able to give you his all. Not being able to see you for a week is a sure way for him to crave for your presence, and once the two of you see each other again, he’ll pour out every love and care for you then.

You were dismayed by this whole arrangement but since it is important to Kazuha, you respected it.

The crew fought for the spot of best man, but in the end, all of them got to be best man. Kazuha did not have the heart to choose one from the crew, so he had to explain to you beforehand that the almost the entire male crew of The Crux are going to be standing with him at the ceremony.

It wasn’t a common occurrence in a wedding but you allowed it. The crew was like his family to him, and if it’s going to make him happy to have them as his best men, who are you to go against it?

At the day of the wedding, Beidou was the one to fret over Kazuha’s appearance. The Anemo user tried to calm her down but after she continually tried to fix his hair for the wedding, he just sighed and allowed her.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be married in just a few hours.” Beidou remarked in the quiet after a while. “To think you were just a teenager when we met you, and our little teenager is a big man now.”

“Nothing’s going to change. I’ll just be married.” Kazuha tried to ease her worries but he knew as well there are going to be major changes. One of being concerning his frequent endeavors with the crew. Once he gets married with you, he’d want to be with you always, to settle with you. But he was so used to the sea, to be living with the crew in a ship. Can he really get used to this coming change?

Beidou let out a sigh. She placed a hand over his head, patting him gently. She would have ruffled his hair but that would waste her effort on making it as presentable as she can.

“Things are going to change, Kazuha.” Stated Beidou, beaming. “And it’s not all bad. Trust me.”

Kazuha nodded, but he was still uneasy. He was ready to give himself to you, but at the same time, he wasn’t ready to leave the crew. 

This thought haunted him even in the time of the ceremony. He should be focusing on the wedding but he couldn’t. 

He needed to talk to you about this. You need to know what’s bothering him.

Was it possible to feel dread for the future while also looking forward to it?

Because it felt like a gust of wind billowed his direction when his eyes landed on you. Beautiful, you’re beautiful. What else can he say? 

Was he really going to marry you? Whatever did you see in him? He was a banished Ronin from Inazuma. There must be some other man more worthy of you.

But you loved him, nobody else.

“Stop gawking at me like that. You’re making me embarrassed.” You murmured, cheeks flushed. He didn’t even notice you standing before him until you spoke.

Kazuha closed his parted lips as he turned away from you. “I . . . uh . . . ” He swallowed. “You look beautiful, ( Your Name ).”

“At least look at me when you say that, Kazu-kun.”

 He looked at you, breathing in before speaking. “You look very, very . . . uh, pretty.”

You laughed a little. “You look very, very handsome, Kazuha.”

You took his hands in yours and gazed into his eyes, smiling. “Things are going to change once we get married.”

A pang of uneasiness struck Kazuha.

But what you said next shocked him.

“After this, I can finally be part of the crew and join you on your adventures in the sea!”

Kazuha gawked at you again, blinking.

Everyone invited to his wedding gasped when Kazuha suddenly kissed you out of nowhere in the middle of the ceremony.

Beidou, and the rest of the crew, however, cheered loudly for the two of you.

After the wedding, Kazuha snuck away from the reception for a while. He found a tree from a short distance and sat on the branch, breathing in the cool evening air.

He caught a fluttering leaf and smiled as he gazed at it and recalled how the two of you met.

Things will change, and soon, he’ll be adventuring with his wife in the vast ocean. Oh, he has so many things to show you.

[fandom-puff]

Family, Duty, Honour (p2)

Pairing: Tyrion Lannister x reader

Warnings: pregnancy/pregnancy symptoms including vomiting, prejudice towards dwarfism (discussion as to whether Tyrion and YN’s child will inherit his dwarfism; not a widely accepted condition in Westeros), childbirth, details of the death of Joanna Lannister (dying in childbirth/traumatic birth), reference to miscarriage

(Part 1)

Gif creds to owner

“Pardon me, Milord,”

Both Tywin and Tyrion turned around to see a young girl, one of your handmaidens, hurrying towards them, remembering a clumsy curtsey in her haste.

“Speak,” Lord Tywin said sternly, and the girl paled briefly before turning instead to his son.

“It’s Lady YN,” she said, and Tyrion instantly stood up straighter, even more on edge. “She’s… sick, my Lord. Can’t keep anything in her stomach, and just now she fainted,”

“Where is she?” Tyrion asked urgently.

“Her bedchamber, Milord. We got a squire to help her back into bed,”

As Tyrion made to hurry after the girl, Tywin’s hand rested firmly on his shoulder. “I will send the maester. He will prove whether or not you have done your duty to this family,”

***

“YN, my dear, can you hear me?”

Slowly, your heavy eyelids slid open, and you turned your head to the source of the noise. Smiling weakly, you squeezed your husband of two month’s hand.

“Are you alright, my lady wife,” he asked you gently, brushing his lips over your knuckles.

“I’m fine. I just got a little dizzy. Must have stood up too quickly,” you said gently, but you did not soothe Tyrion’s worry.

“Your handmaiden said you’ve been ill?” He prompted, and your cheeks heated slightly.

“It’s probably just… my women’s troubles,” you said quietly, still unused to talking about such delicate matters with anyone other than an old septa.

“Or lack thereof, lady Lannister?” The maester spoke up from the end of your bed and you frowned, about to say there really was no need for all this fuss. “The maids say your linen has been clean since your wedding night,”

Clean linen.

Those two words instantly reminded you of when Cousin Cat came to stay at Riverrun with her brooding husband. She had stayed for over a month, and halfway through her stay, you heard gossip of clean linen as you wandered the corridors of your home. Later on that year, she had birthed another child for Ned Stark.

“Does that mean…” you began.

The wisened maester smiled at your bewilderment. “Potentially. If my Lord and Lady are agreeable, I would like to examine lady Lannister to be certain,”

Tyrion smiled gently and kissed your hand once more. “I will give you some privacy, my dear,” he said, and once you nodded, he left the room to bang on the door to his father’s office.

***

“Have you put a babe in her belly?”

Tyrion rolled his eyes at his father’s callousness. “She is being examined as we speak,”

“Good,” Tywin said, hardly looking up from his paperwork. “You’d best hope she is with child and not ill. There aren’t many noble families willing to pawn off a daughter to us,” Tywin sighed and gestured to the chair opposite his desk. “Sit,” he said. “You clearly have something more to say,”

Tyrion was silent for a moment. “I do not want to lose her. She is young. Too young for… this,”

“She is only a few years younger than you. And besides, that didn’t stop you consummating the marriage, did it?”

If anything went on in Casterly rock, Tywin Lannister certainly knew about it within a day.

“No, it didn’t,” Tyrion said. You were nineteen after all, and you had consummated your marriage out of duty to your families.

The night-time visits, on the other hand…

“I’m scared that a baby will… that it will kill her,” Tyrion blurted out, and he could have sworn he saw some semblance of sympathy flash through his father’s eyes. “I am scared that my child will be too much like me. That it will rip her in two and kill her. That it won’t even live in her womb. That it will suffer. That… that she will suffer,”

Tywin stared long and hard at his youngest son, his bastard in all but name as far as he was concerned and sighed. “So am I,” was all he said, before gesturing to the door. And as he left the office, Tyrion knew that Tywin did not care for your suffering, for his suffering, or even for the child’s suffering. He cared only that his legacy remained.

***

Casterly Rock was alive with gossip.

No matter which corridor you walked down, people would stare, both openly and discretely at your belly, which barely showed thanks to the layers you wore (Tyrion insisted you wrapped up warm whenever you walked through the gardens, lest you catch a chill). You could not go a day without the maester inquiring about your general health, and when your swollen ankles were brought to your husband’s attention, he had the cobblers fashion you a pair of comfortable, yet fashionable flat shoes.

***

You were laying in your husband’s bed one night on the sixth moon of your pregnancy, a hand resting on your bump. “Leave the books, husband, and come to bed. I need you to tell your child to stop kicking me so we can all go to sleep. He seems to only listen to you,” Tyrion looked up from his books and sighed, shutting them over and coming to bed, his hand resting over yours. “You’ve gained a sudden interest in midwifery, I see,” you teased, but when he did not smile at your jest, you frowned. “What’s bothering you, husband?” You said gently.

“I…” Tyrion fumbled for the words, his eyes firmly on your belly. “I am frightened, YN,” he said quietly. “That the baby will… will have… will be a little too much like me.”

Of course. You cursed yourself for not even thinking that this could be plaguing your husband. You clasped Tyrion’s hand in yours. “Tyrion… even if the baby is born a dwarf, we will not treat him the way your father treated you,” you insisted, drawing small circles on the back of his hands.

“But what if it kills you like I killed my mother,” your heart ached for him, and you tipped his chin up to face you.

“Then you must promise me to love this child regardless,”

Tyrion’s heart ached. Neither of you had wanted this marriage, yet in the few short months you had been wed he had become fond of you, affectionate. He wanted to protect you from the horrors of a kingdom still reeling from the Rebellion that saw the end of the Mad King. He wanted to see you happy and comfortable and healthy. He would spend all of the gold in Casterly Rock to ensure your safety, despite the fact that your marriage was merely one of strategy arranged by his father and your uncle. You were still his wife, the most precious thing in his life.

But over the past nine months, he could do nothing to alleviate your discomfort. He could only hold back your hair and rub your back as you vomited, the only thing you could seemingly keep in your stomach was dried bread. When you could manage dining anywhere but your chambers, he ordered for the things that turned your stomach to be kept well away. When your legs and feet ached, he could only rub them in hopes of soothing the throbbing. When the baby kicked like mad at night, he rubbed your swollen belly so that you could rest, if only for a few moments at a time.

He watched as the veritable mountain that was your bump sapped you of your energy, and he knew there was nothing he could do to restore it.

And when the time came for you to birth the child, he knew his heart would ache even more as you laboured for hours in agony, with him unable to do anything to take the pain away.

***

You went into labour at night, your sharp gasp of pain as you heaved yourself out of bed waking your husband.

“My dear, are you alright?” He asked urgently, not groggy despite the fact he had been snoring like a boar just thirty seconds prior. As he lit a candle, he saw you grasping onto one of the bedposts, lips pressed together, suppressing your groan. “I will be back in a moment, YN, okay? I’m going to get help,”

“Hurry,”

True to his word, Tyrion returned a few moments later with a few sleepy maids and a septa, who laid fresh linen over the bed and began to send for boiling water. The maester was hot on their heels, scrambling to loop his chains over his neck, before shooing Tyrion and the maids out of the room.

Your groans and cries of pain permeated the walls of your bedchamber and down the hallways of Casterly Rock, and by sunrise, coins were being exchanged on the outcome of your labour. The smallfolk crowded near the walls of the castle, eager to call out prayers in hopes that the rich old lions felt generous after the birth.

Tyrion paced just outside of the room you were in, and every time a maid went in with fresh, boiled water and clean linen or came out with bloodstained cloths and empty bowls, he asked urgently how you were doing, but no one gave him an answer.

The septa left the birthing room, walking straight past the father of your child to… the grandfather. They talked in quick, hushed voices, that could not be heard over your pained cries, but Tyrion caught the two of them looking over their shoulder at him several times.

As the septa went back into the birthing room, Tywin walked over to Tyrion. He seemed to be in no apparent rush, his steps stately. Tyrion resisted the urge to scream at his father, to curse him for tormenting him while you laboured.

“When you were brought into the world,” he began, voice level and low, so Tyrion had to strain to hear what he was saying. “You were born, for lack of a better term, arse first. But then your shoulders got stuck inside the womb, and when you finally emerged, you dragged half of your mother’s womb out with you,”

Both men paled. Not only were they weak stomached when it came to the secretive world of a birthing chamber, but Tywin was plagued with memories from twenty or so years before, and Tyrion was plagued with guilt for killing his mother when he was a newborn, and fear that his child would do the same to you.

Tywin continued. “But the Septa has reported that the child is being born head first, as it should,” Tyrion nodded slowly. Tywin was about to continue when the door opened again.

“Pardon, Milords,” a maid carrying an armful of bloodied linen said. “Lady YN has asked for Lord Tyrion to… support her. The maester has permitted it, so long as Milord stays at the top end of the bed,”

Tyrion was frozen for a moment.

“Go,” Tywin said lowly, giving his son a small shove. “Your lady wife needs you now,”

Tyrion looked over his shoulder, and he was sure he could see a small glimmer of… sympathy in his father’s eye. Kindness even. And it was this look, paired with the shift in the way you screamed that had him running into the birthing chamber.

“Tyrion!” You sobbed, one hand reaching for him, the other reaching above you to grasp at the headboard. One of your trusted hand maids, who you had brought with you from Riverrun was at your other side, pressing a cool cloth to your forehead. Tyrion hurried to your other side, just in time for the maester to tell you to push, and the child was at last parted with your body.

All was silent for a tense few moments, until sharp cries filled the room. You could hear the cheering from the corridors.

“A boy, my lady,” the maester called out, and you sobbed for joy. “A healthy son. A little on the delicate side-”

“Is he-”

“No. He is not like you, my Lord. I delivered you and your siblings, and your son is exactly the size your brother was when he was born,”

“Can I hold him?” You whispered, your arms reaching out.

“Of course, my lady. He is your son,”

The child was handed to you, nuzzled against the bare skin of your breasts, his little cries soon petering out to soft snuffles of sleep. The maester left to deliver the good news to the Lord of Casterly Rock, but your world consisted only of Tyrion and your son.

“He’s perfect,” he said, letting out a relieved laugh. “And he’s going to tower over me when he’s a man grown,” You gave a laugh, happy tears streaming down your cheeks as you rested your head on his shoulder. Tyrion pressed his lips to your temple. “You wonderful, wonderful woman, I love you,” he murmured. “I swear to you on the old gods and the new that I will protect you and my son from all harm,”

You rubbed your son’s back gently, not wanted to disturb his sleep and you looked up to your husband. “Thank you,” you whispered. Tyrion, my Lord husband. My love,”

Tags: @sociallyawkward-princess @lazyotakujen @janelongxox @honeyofthegods @lxoxtxtxi @fullmoonshadowwrites

[bakugosbratx]

Baby Eyes | Mafia Katsuki Bakugo x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Some non-con, blood, murder, Mafia Bakugo, Fem! Reader, bdsm, sexual intercourse, size kink, degrading, orgasm denial, Stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, etc.

Words: 2,896

A/N: thank you so much to @daisy-bakugo for letting me participate. It is really fun doing this collaboration with you. Daisy’s Event

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @miriobaby @milkthistletea @idfkwtfgof click here to see my other works

Vegas.

Many dream of this city. The gambling, the drinks, the money, the night life. It has it all. Your dreams and worse nightmares can be made here all within a single night. The world may be cruel, but Vegas is even crueler. At least, it is for Y/N.

Your pistol was held tight in your trembling little hand. You have not been properly trained for this moment since in your late teens. The weapon felt foreign to the touch. You are now in your twenties and you are usually not doing this line of work, but since you wanted to disturb your significant other while he was working, he handed you the gun for you to handle.

“Since you want to be such a fucking cry baby, here.” He growled, shoving the pistol into your pounding chest. You gasped.

“S-Sir, I—“ You stammered, using the name he loved to be called by you. You would help it lessen your punishment, but the man did not budge.

“Don’t keep me waiting, brat. Finish this piece of shit off swiftly and quit your damn crying.”

You watched as he left into the city lights of Vegas before turning your attention back to the male before you. The man begged for mercy beneath you and your mouth feels dry.

“P-Please, ma’am. I-I have a w-wife and t-three beautiful c-children. I’ll g-give you your m-money next week. I-I promise.” The fearful man stammered amongst the abandoned dark alleyway. You have heard this speech by many like him when Katsuki brought you on his missions. It should just fall on deaf ears, but tears still brimmed your eyes as memories flooded back to the forefront of your damaged mind.

These memories are the reason you are in this predicament. You begged and squealed, running towards Katsuki and hanging onto his arm when he directed you to stay in the car. You two could have been gone by now, but you decided to intervene. Now you are here, about to commit another murder.

Your father was in this same position a few years ago. Begging for mercy before Katsuki slaughtered him right in front of you. Your cries still echo this alleyway during late, breezy nights. People think you have been disposed of as well. That is what eventually happened to the remainder of your family, but you are just under a new identity.

The barrel of the gun digs deeper into the victim’s temple. You attempt to find your strength to pull the trigger. You need to before Katsuki returns. He does not like waiting and you really are pushing what is left of his buttons today.

“I’m sorry.” You whimper out, closing your sorrow filled eyes and pressing down on the trigger. The feeling of blood splattering amongst your cold skin brought back even more unwanted memories. Falling to your knees, you began to cry hysterically in front of the fallen corpse.

Heavy footsteps came up behind you after a few moments. Katsuki has been watching the whole time and you know it. This is what made the experience even worse. You know his judgment is coming. He gave you a task and although you succeeded, it isn’t good enough. He hates your emotional ways. ‘Baby eyes’ as he would say. Always crying over something or someone.

A big calloused hand entangling into your hair with a deep sigh following. You could not look up at him. You hate him right now. You need to, at least, but the feeling of his large fingers stroking your scalp delivered comfort. A comfort he gives and takes away on a whim.

“Took you long enough.” Katsuki grumbled. You gaze up at him with a pitiful look he knows all too well. There was a certain aura to you that changed when your mind drifted to that night. The night he murdered your family right in front of you and all you could do is watch in terror.

“I-I’m sorry.” You muttered out, already accepting that Katsuki is annoyed with you. This is not your first murder and sure will not be your last. He has groomed you long enough for you to know your role.

Katsuki kicked the man’s head with his large foot so he could see the man’s pleading face. Katsuki is cruel in that way. He loved seeing his victim’s expressions in their final moments. Especially when his beautiful woman killed them.

Digging into the man’s pockets, he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and black leather wallet to review what was contained inside it. The little cash the man held is now in Katsuki’s possession.

“Marlboro Reds,” Katsuki commented as he slipped the cigarette in between his moist lips and lit it up, “nice.”

Turning around to face you after letting the nicotine enter his system, he looks down at you. Grabbing your chin, you are forced to meet his gaze. You tremble under his touch.

“What did I say about that crying shit?” Katsuki recalls one of your many lectures.

“I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, a little too loud for your own good. Katsuki’s eyebrows furrowed together, not pleased with your tone. His hand found a way to your neck, giving you a nice squeeze as he guides you up to your feet.

“Let’s go.” Katsuki growls, his red orbs shooting venom into you. Your arm is now tight into his grip as he leads you to the parked all black Lamborghini.

You climb into the passenger seat while Katsuki climbs into the driver’s. You used the napkins in the glove compartment to clean up your soiled face. Katsuki is already on his second cigarette as he drives to the mansion you both share. Considering how fed up he is with you and your antics, you are surprised that half of the box is not gone by now. You know you are in for it once you arrive home.

Katsuki pulled up to the house after some time. Your tears did not pause once the whole way there which only agitated Katsuki even more. He did not say a word as you know to follow the tall man inside. Straight up the spiral marble staircase to the master bedroom, you begin undressing as Katsuki does not appreciate the mess in his living space. Along with the fact you are always to be naked within the bedroom. That rule was set once you turned eighteen years of age.

You sat on the edge of the bed, not enjoying the look in Katsuki’s angry eyes. His muscular arms folded against his chest as he leaned against the wall, glaring into you. You feel small — as usual — within his presence. He is making sure you remember your place.

“What the hell were you thinking out there, Y/N?” Katsuki begins after moments have passed.

“I-I don’t know.” You mumbled, twiddling your thumbs in your bare lap. Your insides are curling with each passing second. You are not sure why you did what you did, honestly. You have seen numerous people plead for forgiveness at Katsuki’s feet, but Katsuki is always going to be a merciless man. Your body acted before your brain could compute. You just wanted to save him. Salvage your loved ones death in some way, shape, or form, but it can never be done.

“You have to give me a better excuse than that. This little rebellion you're on lately isn’t doing nothing but getting you into heaps of trouble.”

“It’s not a rebellion!” You snap back, tears still spilling from your orbs. “You killed my family, Katsuki!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, used to this statement coming from you. “Here we go again.” He scoffs with a tsk following shortly after. “We’ve been over this, Y/N. Your father sold you and your family out for cash. If anything, you should be fucking grateful I even let you live.”

“Grateful?” You repeat in disbelief, a half hearted chuckle escaping your lips. Maybe it was because Katsuki let you take another life, maybe your parents' spirits are coming through, or maybe you’re just so fed up with him, but a sudden burst of confidence runs through you.

You stand up, strolling over to the man before you. His jaw is clenching as he examines each cowardly step you take towards him. You glare up to the man before you, quivering before his mighty presence.

“You killed my family, Katsuki,” you repeat through gritted teeth and clenched fists, “I’ll never forgive you for that.”

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki challenged, his profound amused smirk appearing. The look in your glossy irises said all the words you didn’t have the courage to speak. “Good thing I really don’t give a fuck about your forgiveness, princess.”

Katsuki’s words soaked into your veins like venom. His smug looks always made you want to beat it off of him. Ever since you have met him. You both know you have no match against him. He will always win. Always.

You have been stuck with him since you were fifteen years old. You two never had any relationship or any sexual conduct until you were the legal age of eighteen. You would be lying if you said you didn’t fall for him over the years. He is all you know and Katsuki grew to like you over the years. Though he trained you to be the woman he wants you to be for him, you do throw a tantrum or two when needed.

“I hate you.” You sniveled.

“Sure you do. Let’s clean up that pretty face of yours so I can stuff it, eh?” Katsuki chuckled, cupping your chin with one hand so he can wipe your nose with a handkerchief with the other. You attempted to break loose of his firm grasp, but the male was not even phased.

“I don’t want your dick anywhere near me.” You admit allowed, still keeping the same angry tone within your words.

Katsuki arched his eyebrow, releasing your face from his grip and discarding the used cloth into the waste bin. “Considering the show you put on out there tonight, you’re lucky I’m not doing worse to you. I can always make that pretty ass of yours bruised too if you’d like?”

You immediately shake your head no. Your bottom is still a bit sore from two weeks ago when Katsuki put you over his knee. You are just now able to sit normal again. You do not need to go back to that.

“No, sir.” You stutter out, backing away from him and putting your hands behind your back. Katsuki is already pouring himself some whiskey into a whiskey glass that you make sure is always waiting on his dresser. He always enjoys a good drink after a long mission.

You take his black suit jacket off of him like expected and lay it on the dirty laundry hamper. Katsuki is already sitting on the bed, sipping on his alcoholic beverage, waiting for you to get to work. Kneeling before him, you begin unzipping his slacks and tugging down his underwear to reveal his erected cock. You take a moment to contemplate your future actions. You really did not want his dick in your mouth, but like Katsuki said before, you do not have a choice in the matter.

Your train of thought is derailed when Katsuki tugs on your hair. “Isn’t going to suck itself, brat. Get to work.”

Mentally groaning, your tongue swipes his length before placing kisses on the tip. Slowly, you begin taking in inch—by—inch. Saliva slid down his cock by the time you had it in your throat. Choking noises fed Katsuki’s already inflated ego.

“Can’t talk much with my cock down your throat, huh?” He teased, taking another sip of his whiskey. “For someone who claimed they didn’t want my cock to begin with, you sure are deep throating it rather quickly.”

You ignored his usual insults as you came up for air. You let out small coughs then go in for more, every vein being pleased with your tongue as you take it all in. Katsuki groans in pleasure as you pick up the speed. His cock is coated in your saliva as you did not slow down once to catch air. It wasn’t worth the ego boost he would feel from knowing he is too big for you.

Katsuki’s whiskey went unfinished as he could not focus on drinking it. Cum soon fills your hollow cheeks and down your throat as he releases into you. Not a drop was missed as you milked his cock. You were rewarded with a head pat.

“On the bed,” Katsuki instructs, “all fours.”

“Do I have to?” You whine. Katsuki vigorously grabs your chin, staring down into you. The room is dark, but his crimson eyes seemed to glow.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get on this fucking bed and shut your Goddamn mouth.” Katsuki hisses, sending chills down your spine. You do as you are told like he taught you. Arching your back, your ass is now in his perfect viewing. Katsuki’s clothes discarded to the hardwood floor below, his dick already erected at the sight of you.

“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Katsuki asked, rhetorically. He spreads you open more for his personal view. “Yeah, that’s it.” He comments, overviewing all of you. One of his hands stroked his cock while the other pressed on your begging clit. You let out a soft moan, hoping he didn’t hear.

Placing his hands on your hips, he drags you closer to him. Leveling you with his cock, the tip slowly slips into your entrance then proceeding to pick up full speed. Your cunt swallows all of him, hugging his cock with each rhythmic thrust. You can feel your tight walls get stretched by his girth with each entry he makes, not even giving you time to get used to his size as he exits to repeat the same process. No matter how many times you two have sex, you will never get used to Katsuki’s length and size.

“Katsuki—“ You sob in pleasure and in pain.

“Shut it, slut. You’re going to take all of my fucking cock and like it. I’m going to fuck the brat out of you tonight.” Katsuki demands, pressing down on your spine so your ass is more perked up for him to smack periodically. Your cries and moans are muffled into the European satin sheets below. You grip onto them for support as Katsuki does not slow down once.

Your pussy pulsates with each thrust. It was about to give out on you and cum all over his cock. Though you did not want to give him the satisfaction, your cunt had other plans as it became tighter around Katsuki’s length.

“Aw, is someone going to cum?” Katsuki coo’s condescendingly, beginning to go agonizingly slow.

You lift your head to beg for sweet release. “Please let me cum, sir. Pretty please. I need to oh so badly.” You sobbed. His silence made your insides do flips. His slow strokes did not once stop and his nails dug into your thighs.

“No.” Katsuki finally denies as he knows you cannot take anymore. You gasp, your heart stopping for a split second.

“Katsuki, please.” You hiccuped. “I really need to.”

“Should’ve thought about that before throwing a tantrum today. Good girls get to cum.” Katsuki shrugged, using his long muscular arm to push your head back into the mattress. “Now shut the hell up while I fuck you senseless.”

Just like Katsuki stated, he fucked you until his high was met. Of course, he did not make it easy as he was about to bust, he would go slower to edge himself. He wanted this to be a punishment to remember. The whole time, you behaved and did not cum. No matter how many times Katsuki tried to get you to slip, you refused.

“C’mon and cum, brat. Y’know you wanna.” Katsuki would tease with immaturity. All you could say was incoherent “no thank you’s.” A soft rub on your ass was telling you that you passed his test.

Countless minutes, maybe even hours, have passed until Katsuki decided he was ready to release himself. “You can cum now.” He finally grants. You did not get to even process his words as your pussy released onto his cock. Babbles of pleasure and gratitude escaped from your lips.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki praises, his cock now removed from you. You whine at the hollowness you felt.

“Lay on your back.” He instructs, doing his best to keep it together. You follow his request and switch over to your back. “Play with your tits.”

Your fingers grab onto your sensitive nipples, swirling on them before giving them a nice little pinch. Katsuki stood over you, stroking his cock that is covered in his pre-cum.

“Yeah, that’s it. Good girl.” Katsuki praised once more, analyzing your lewd faces as your fingers played with your breast.

“Mm, cover me with your cum.” You encouraged, rubbing your thighs together and pushing your breast closer to one another. Katsuki became feral as cum squirted onto your chest and stomach. Just the sight of you is making Katsuki forget today ever happened.

Just like always, baby eyes.

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[albaedhoe]

promise

pairing : venti x gn!reader

summary : many people say promises are meant to be broken, but this one? It has been nurtured and cared for for millennia.

contains venti’s story quest spoilers

Unlike Barbatos, who was only a wisp among the thousand winds at the time, you were a young, lesser-known god. For plot sake, let’s say you’re the god of health. Having similar views and wanting to allow humans to have atleast some form of hope, the two of you became fast friends and stuck together within the confinements of old mondstat.

“Please don’t ever leave me.”

“I promise that I will never even think of leaving you, Barbatos. I, Y/n, God of Health, swear my power and life that I will keep this promise until the day I fall from Celestia.”

“W-Wait- you didn’t have to go that far!”

You were there during the events of the rebellion and fought along side those who were trapped under the rule of Decarabian. You were by the side of Barbatos the moment he had become one of the seven, the god of anemo and later changed his name to Venti.

“You took the form of your friend?”

“I...I don’t want to forget what he looks like.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save him on time, I can tell he meant a lot to you.”

“It’s fine! His sacrifice will never be in vain. Just don’t leave me too, as you promised.”

“As I promised.”

A few hundred years pass and growing tired of responsibilities, it didn’t take long for Venti to garner a need to escape, so he did, but not without taking you with him to the human world. While he took on the role of being a bard who played the lyre for others, you preferred a more stable subtle occupation that actually brings home money, such as being a teacher. This way, you can keep tabs on the younger generations of the people of mondstat without suspicion and to make sure that the city won’t fall into ruin because of the lack of education. After all, if that were to happen, everything the rebellion had fought for would be for nothing.

The grass grows green, leaves wilt off the trees, snow falls from the sky, the flowers start to sprout from the ground. The cycle repeating who knows how many times now. But one thing is for sure, Venti is lost. Mondstat does not need nor has needed of the god of winds for a long time. He comes back late to your shared cottage out in the open plains filled with dewy grass and blooming cecillias. On that night, he asks you a question. “Would... Would you allow me to rest for a few years..?”

Don’t get him wrong, Venti would never think of leaving you purposely. He’s just so tired. Your silence and furrowed eyebrows made his heart sink. He didn’t and couldn’t blame you if you had said no. After all of these millennia, you had kept his promise with undying loyalty and sincerity, and here he is, feeling as though he is selfishly taking advantage of your kindness. You even swore on your life and power!

Hanging his head low in shame, he didn’t notice you walk up to him and wrap his head with your arms, burying his face to one of your shoulders.

“I’m not mad at you, rather, I’m upset to think you see me so highly that you need to ask my permission for something, despite being an Archon.” Lifting his head so you could face him, you cup his cheeks and wipe the tears threatening to spill from his eyes with your thumbs. “I only ask that you allow me to spend these last days with you,” you whisper. “Of course,” he responds.

True to his word, he had spent every waking moment with you. Frolicking in the fields, listening to his singing while you read, braiding his hair, cooking dinner.

“V-Venti! You’re not supposed to add that much sugar!”

“Ehe!”

Until the final day came. The sun was bright and the breeze was gentle. Sat in the middle of a field that stretched out for miles, you were fiddling with a flower crown while venti stares up at your beauty with his head atop your lap. He thought about the years spent with you and treasuring every single memory. He thought about how much he appreciates and loves you. He thought about how much you will miss him, if at all and hopes that you won’t find someone to replace him so soon.

“When I’m gone, don’t go off running to find someone to replace me!”

“Don’t make it sound like you’re dying-”

“Done!” You hold up the finished crown of daffodils and cecillias. Venti chuckles at your antics. Gently placing the flower crown to fit his head, you look proud of your work. Comfortable silence fills the air as the two of you enjoy the atmosphere. Taking your hands to cup his face once again, he leans against your touch. “I will be dreaming of you,” Venti says. Leaning down so that the both of your foreheads were touching, you close your eyes. “I don’t doubt it. I hope you rest well, zephyr.” And with that, Venti dissipates into the breeze, only to be awoken when he is ready. Staring at the clouds above you, you smile gently as the winds made your hair dance and birds fly past your vision. An ache in your chest starts to form, “Oh dear...,” you laugh while your left hand rests above your heart.

The clock struck 12, the latest time Venti had ever been out drinking. He had told you earlier on that day that he had earned quite the tip for his entertainment and since he hadn’t drank in so long, he had asked you if it would be alright to splurge it on Master Diluc’s dandelion wine. Who were you to say no? You’re rather proud of him doing something he enjoyed and being rewarded for it, however, despite being an archon, you couldn’t help but worry that in his delusioned state, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself if he were to bump into the wrong crowd.

Slipping on a thick coat, you discreetly transport to an alleyway near Angel Share. Since it was a Friday night, opening hours are much later than other days of the week so no wonder the lights were still on and playful banter could be heard inside. Opening the door, the shouting only got louder. First thing you saw was the owner of the bar, Diluc, looking quite amazed and curious at something, or rather, someone.

“Good Evening, Master Diluc. Would you happen to know if a certain bard is here?”

“Good Evening. He’s actually right infront of you.”

Confused, you looked down at your feet. And low and behold, Venti was sprawled on the floor, cheeks flushed, hat crooked and he was muttering nonsense, you deadpan. Looking back up at Diluc, you reach to grab mora from your pocket.

“How much did he drink this time?”

“Around 37 glasses.”

You honestly weren’t surprised at this point. As you were about to hand over the money, Diluc stops you. “It’s fine, honestly. Watching you have to drag him back to your home builds enough pity in me to spare him the bill.” Waving goodbye and a quick thank you at the young bachelor, you silently think to yourself, ‘Your descendants have the same heart as you, don’t they, Vanessa?’ Slinging Venti’s arm around your other shoulder, you hoist him to his feet.

“For a guy that took form of a young boy that was practically skin and bones, you sure are heavy.” Teleporting to your shared abode, you shuffle to the bedroom. Forcing him to sit on the bed so you could at least change him into more comfortable clothing. “I kneeewww *hic* you’d come for meee *hic* Y/n!” Venti bellows out, arms wiggling as if to set himself free from your touch.

“I’ll drop you.” You threaten, but your hold on him so that he sits up only tightened more. Loosening his corset and unbuttoning his top, you make him put on a casual tunic. “You looooove me too much!*hic*” Not bothering with the bottom half of him, you tuck Venti underneath the covers. Slipping under the blankets with him, you interlock fingers and have eachother. Although his breath stank with alcohol, you couldn’t really care less.

“Thank you for not leaving me after all of these millennia and despite the things you go through just to be with me...” Venti whispers, eyes closed as sleep nearly takes him. Smiling softly, you joined foreheads with him. “I promised to never leave you, Zephyr, remember?”

[oldbay-on-apples]

Dystopian Larry Fic Rec

Inspired by some of the lovely people and fic recers on here, I’ve decided to start making my own fic recs.  If you’d like, you can request recs in my inbox and I’ll see what I can do <3!

Please read the ratings and tags to these fics (because some of them are dark or have dark themes) and enjoy!

You Try To Be Everything (I Need) by lululawrence - @lululawrence​  (NR, 36k)

Wars, and rumours of wars, were nothing new for the world in the twenty-fourth century. The fighting had evolved over the years, and rarely did it involve traditional weapons. A group most widely known as the Southern Powers gained strength amongst portions of the western European continent and spread quickly. There was a fight the Southern Powers didn’t expect coming from the north of England, though. Resistance came in the form of an organised underground; a group comprised of people with the Touch that did the best they could to enforce a line that would not be crossed. Slowly, that line was moved from the Channel to boundaries further and further north. It seemed only a matter of time before the Southern Powers took over everywhere. Until that time, people did the best they could to live their lives in some semblance of normality. For Louis Tomlinson, that sense of normality was about to change when his best friend, Harry Styles, goes missing. Louis embarks on the journey of a lifetime where he uses his newly developed abilities to search for his friend, even when it takes him to places he never thought he would see while surmounting trials he never could have imagined. -

I loved the way the magic and technology in this fic intersected in such a unique way and the way the world was built was extraordinary!

red hands by reveries_passions - @dystopianharry​ (T, 132k)

I’ve never told anyone,” Harry murmurs, voice so soft no one else would be able to hear, if it wasn’t just the two of them. “But you’ve told someone,” Louis says firmly. “And that’s not gonna fucking happen around here. You don’t speak a word of it, or someone’s going to kill you, and we can’t let that happen.” * a dystopian au in which harry, an ex-soldier who’s escaped from his government run camp, accidentally stumbles across the biggest rebel movement in the country, and louis, one of the rebellion’s mysterious leaders who appears to hate him, seems to simultaneously have an obsession with keeping him alive. or: harry is wanted for treason, niall hasn’t changed in four years, liam is always smiling, and louis is angry. like, really angry.

- The plot of this is just *chef’s kiss* in so many ways!  I love the way the characters interact with each other and I’m weak for Niall and Harry’s friendship in this.

Love After the End of the World by writing_practice - @mercurial-madhouse​ (E 158k)

“Wait. Just so I’m clear in me fucking noggin,” Niall says. “An international worldwide takeover is well under way and the only thing standing between having hot showers and a second end of the world is us five fuckers?”    -----    Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.    When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

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This just came out in the most recent Big Bang (that’s still on going so you should definitely check that out) and this fic is so amazing!  I think it does a great job of just really immersing you in the world the characters exist in.  Love After the End of the World is also a Soulmate AU and I love the way those parts come together.  It also has an amazing prologue called PROMETHEUS RISING (M 5k) that I enjoyed immensely set in the same world!

at last, at last by suspendrs - @suspendrs​ (NR 41k) Locked

“Come with us,” Tommo says, stopping at the other end of the gymnasium, near the doors. “Don’t let them make you suffer any longer. Come with us, and be human.”

   Before Harry has even finished thinking it through, he’s on his feet, gaining the attention of every single person in the gymnasium. What has he got to lose, anyway?

   Or, Harry is born into a cult in a post-apocalyptic world, and Louis is the leader of the rebel group tasked with the mission of shutting them down. Together, they make a rather effective team.

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This fic does a great job of making you feel like you’re experiencing with the characters, like I could practically smell what the characters were smelling!  The world it’s set in is so cool and the entire fic feels so well thought out and everything is so consistent!

my love will never leave you by we_are_the_same @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed​ (T 10k)

In a world where memories are used as currency, Louis will do anything it takes for Harry to get better.

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I loved the idea behind this. Like the entire world is so brilliantly done! And it was all based on ONE word (because of the wordplay challenge).  Even though it’s set in a different world everything feels so grounded and realistic and I really really like that about it.

a prayer for which no words exist by Eliane (M 34k) Locked

"Louis is a few seconds away from blowing up a rather important section of the New York subway when he sees Harry for the first time."

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In this fic the characters motivations are so clear (to the reader) and I love how it goes from Louis accidentally sort of, kind of, kidnapping Harry to them becoming friends then more.  I also love how no matter where they are the fic has a real sense of place. This is part 1 of landscapes of war.  The entire series is really good!

Who Painted the Moon Black by throughthedark (E 95k) Locked

   “People died,” Harry whispers so quietly Louis strains to hear. “People died, and I killed some of them. How does life just go on after something like that?”

   Louis shakes his head. “I don't know. It just does.”

   Hunger Games AU where Louis Tomlinson is district six's victor from the 69th Hunger Games and Harry Styles is district seven's victor from the 72nd Hunger Games.

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This fic is a hunger games AU that both people who have and haven't read/watched the Hunger Games can enjoy. I like how it explores the world of the Hunger Games in a way that isn’t explored in the Hunger Games canon.  It’s really intense (like the E is for the darker themes and violence) and I enjoy it a lot.  There is a happy ending (as the author assures in the tags) and I really enjoy all the struggles that the characters go through.

Nobody Marks You by graceling_in_a_suit @graceling-in-a-suit​ (T 33k)

“The plan is: we’re gonna put on a play. Now, I see some doubtful faces–” Louis looked around and found zero doubtful faces. Liam looked intrigued, Zayn looked bored, and Harry looked scarily blank. “But this is what’s happening. We’re gonna do some fucking acting, we’re gonna perform our hearts out, and we’re not going to think about anything else. The past, the future; none of it. All we’re going to think about is... “ Niall trailed off, eyeing the bookshelf to his left. He closed his eyes and reached a hand out towards it, running his fingers over the covers before pulling a book out at random. “William Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing.”

AU: Five assholes stuck in a bunker put on a play.

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This is one of my absolute favorite fics.  I just love the way the characters interact and they way the story is told.  It’s nonlinear so you jump around in time and it shows the way the character's relationships change throughout.  I’m a sucker for Much Ado About Nothing and though you don’t need to read it to fully appreciate the fic I think the use of the play throughout is genius. 

@1dfanfictionbookcovers​ has a really cool cover for the fic as well HERE

With a whimper by kitundercover  @kitundercover​​ (M 132k)

Dystopian AU. Louis has been alone for too long to remember how not to be, and Harry has too much to worry about to deal with a scrawny, wild, stranger.

---

The man grips his arm tightly. “You’re not going to say anything.” It’s not a question.

Louis shakes his head, his body twitching.

“Fine.” Large green eyes survey him before letting go. “It’s cold. Take this. Wear it.”

Louis can’t help another flinch as the man’s long scarf is wrapped around his tender neck, it’s still warm. He touches the soft material. “Thank you.”

The man bears his teeth. “Don’t thank me. Don’t ever thank me.”

-

The thing this fic does really does is showing emotional reactions.  Louis’ inner monologue is so well done and I really like the plot of the story.

these bountiful silences by tommoandbambi (T 123k)

they live in a world where they can only say four words per day. harry meets some people that don't want to live that way.

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I really, really, really, like this plot and the story! The world that the characters exist in is so interesting and I just love the way in which it is a dystopia.

[morganas-pendragons]

It’s A Long Way Down | D.D.

gif by @bestintheparsec

I was never planning on posting something on Tumblr during No Content November, but this idea has been stuck in my head since I saw Mando 2x03 and on top of that, people kept tweeting ideas on Twitter and now this thing is born... be gentle. I’ve been hesitant to write for him since I started the show last year. I played a little bit with what we know of Din’s past for the sake of this plot. 

Without further ado, hurt/comfort galore! 2x03 spoilers!

Please let me know what you think!

tag: @earthtokace​ / @dindjarindiaries​ / @kyber-queen​ 

*** 

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” 

  “Drowning.” He replies, soft and quiet as he processes the last three days in the midst of the silence. “Almost drowning.. and thinking about how you’d cope when I was gone.” 

If I was gone. 

Maybe the world would be better off. That’s what Din thinks. That thought lingers for a split second in his mind until he sees the desperation in your aspect and how you need him to understand that this world is a better place with him in it. 

The Watch didn’t allow him attachments. They didn’t allow him to feel. He was a warrior. 

He was a warrior, and the entrance of you and The Child made his hardened heart soft. 

Din has never liked the water.

When he’d been taken in by the Mandalorians and had sworn his Creed, the one thing they had drilled into his mind for his entire childhood was that he was a warrior. Warriors knew how to fight, how to survive, how to endure. 

A Warrior who did not dare show his face. This was The Way, and the way kept him safe. 

The one thing he could never quite master as a Foundling was enduring the water. To stop the way his lungs seized, how panic overtook him, how he just stopped. 

Din didn’t like the water, and Din had never really learned how to breathe.

Then he’d met you. You - the one person he could admit to loving, to admiring from a distance because he has his Creed and you have some kind of Code you live by - and your devotion to both him and The Child has slowly eased the ache in his chest, cracked open his ribs, and taught him a different way of breathing. 

Slow, steady, easy. He’s never known life to be that way. 

***

There is no Light without the Dark. 

Through passion, I gain focus. 

You had run across Mando just after the end of the Empire. You’d seen that Death Star explode with your very own eyes and had declared that your final mission with The Rebellion, in which you bid a tearful farewell to Luke and Leia and made your way into the galaxy. 

A vast galaxy.. alone. 

You and Luke had very differing views on the Jedi Order as a whole and in that difference, you’d taken two different paths. You had followed the Code of the Grey Jedi, and Luke had taken to the Jedi Code. 

That Code had carried you through alot of darkness. 

Through knowledge, I gain power 

Through serenity, I gain strength 

The Clone War had introduced you to the concept of Mandalorians. You’d never really had the pleasure to meet one as you’d always been on different fronts a distance from the Dream Team, but you knew of them. You knew they carried a Creed the same way you did. 

What you didn’t expect was the extent in which The Mandalorian did. The two of you had met in a cantina only days after he’d taken on The Child, and his claim for knowing where to find you on Sorgan was whispers of a rogue Jedi who’d left the Rebellion to seek peace.

Peace was what you found, contrary to popular belief. Compared to being a part of the Jedi Order, being with The Mandalorian was the most peaceful thing you’d done in over a decade. 

Through victory, I gain harmony

You’d been raised around Yoda, so you were familiar with the species, but past that.. You were as clueless as Din was. 

You stowed your lightsabers away and that part of your life with it. You left behind the title of Jedi and put all of your efforts into taking care of The Child. Into taking care of Din. 

That was easier said then done. 

There is only The Force. 

*** 

I wasn’t supposed to fall in love. 

That’s all he is thinking as he stands examining the vast waters of the ocean the two of you sail on with the Quarren crew. Your fingers are curled in the direction of The Child’s pram, and he’s giggling as he tries to maintain control of his body while you spin him. 

It’s the first time he’s seen you smile in weeks. It’s always small ones too. He looks forward to the first time he’s granted the opportunity to see a real smile. 

It had taken you a while to open up to him about your time with the Jedi. You’d barely been a padawan when The Order’s genocide had been in effect, and the greater majority of your life had been lived in fear. Your Code and your Lightsaber were your only guide until Leia had found you and recruited you into The Rebellion. 

All your life you’d been looking for a purpose, and she’d given you one. 

Being here with The Child - caring for him, teaching him, had given you a new purpose - and being with The Mandalorian had taught you a newfound sense of compassion for people raised as he had been. 

Your compassion and heart had won him out in the end. He’d admitted to being in love with you months ago, but he had yet to vocalize it. He would. He will. 

It happens so fast. One minute the two of you are smiling - even though you cannot see his own - about The Child’s reaction to the Mamacore, and the next minute you’re roaring with rage as his pram is shoved into the center of the cage and he’s forced to retreat inside for fear of being killed. 

He’s a child. A child who’s been too involved in death, in seeing death, in flirting with death.. and Din has had enough of it. 

Din Djarin doesn’t like the water. He doesn’t like how it weighs him down, how it threatens to suffocate him, to fill his lungs with something cruel and cold that replaces the warm fire that floods his veins that has been placed there by you. 

  “You’re-You’re a Jedi?” 

  “Push him down! Harder!” 

His world is illuminated in a flurry of blue light as the Quarren’s keep pushing him down under, down down down and his first thought is ner jeti.. i’m sorry. He’s sorry that he’s again put you in this position where you’ve had to reveal yourself, reveal who you are, and all to protect him and The Child. 

Failure. 

He’s a failure. 

Between you and the trio of Mandalorians that arrive shortly after, the Quarren’s are dealt with in a matter of moments and then he’s being lifted - his lungs are reactivating, are expanding and contracting to remind him that he is alive - and he collapses in the midst of wheezing his concern for the child. 

  “The Child! Help-Help The Child!” 

The Mandalorian on the left dives into the water to rescue The Child from the creature. You turn your attention away from the bodies and sheath your sabers  before kneeling in front of Din to assess him. 

  “The Child-” He rasps, because his thoughts are never on himself, only you and The Child. His life doesn’t matter if it means the two of you are safe. “Jeti, ner ad-” 

Jedi, my son. 

Your gentle hand on his knee is enough to capture his thoughts. Your way of evaluating Din’s state has never been through the physical sense, but the mental. He doesn’t know how to shield because The Jedi was a foreign concept to him until he met you, and he’s always been receptive to your gentle nature. You don’t need to talk. You never have. 

You look. 

His mind is a flurry of panic and fear as you gently soothe it into a peace that makes his whole body go lax as Koska breaks the pram shell in half and gently scoops out the baby. “Here you go, Brother.” Koska murmurs, watching from beneath her helmet as you stand to your feet and allow Din to reunite with The Child he claims not to have an attachment to. 

Yeah... okay. 

Din and Bo-Katan converse - in which he is given an inexplicable truth about himself that he's not quite sure how to process - and he shuts down the idea of them even being real Mandalorians because their way is not his way. It’s a whole new reality he’s never had to face before. 

  “You are a Child of The Watch.” 

And as you stand there, you take in the distress in which the man you love - and have yet to tell - is trying so desperately to hide. 

***

His panic bursts through the surface when you unsheathe your sabers in the hall that connects and run right into the line of fire, deflecting blaster bolts left and right so Din can run right past you and blow the door to the bridge right open. 

The fight about it comes later, long after the two of you have returned to The Crest for the coordinates to Coravus where Ahsoka Tano is supposedly located. She is a Jedi - or was, once - and might be the only connection you have left to the person you used to be despite how young you had been at the time. 

Your first clue to his apparent agitation is the way he hasn’t unclenched his fists and has yet to look at you from where he sits in the cockpit. Your anger is growing steadily at his silence, which has never happened before.. not until you put your life into the line of fire. 

  “Say it.” Your voice echoes from behind the captain’s seat as you cross your arms over your chest. “Mando-please, stop giving me the kriffing silent treatment and just let me have it.” 

  “Ner jeti...” He stops short and stands to his feet, practically towering over you in a way that would intimidate most people. He has never once made you feel afraid... but he constantly makes you ache. With want, with pain, with desire. He makes you feel things you haven’t felt since before Order 66. “You cannot do that.” 

  “Do what?? Save your life? Mando, I’m-” 

  “Din.” Your rant is cut off halfway as he exhales lowly, a rumble through the modulator, and lifts a helmeted head to meet your gaze. “My name is Din Djarin. I thought it was time you know that.” 

Your entire body freezes. You have been a partner, an ally, since the day he’d found you on recruited you to help return The Child to his kind. You have been careful in ensuring that it’s strictly a professional relationship, you never had anticipated this- The intimacy that comes with divulging such a secret as his real name. 

  “Din?” You rasp, eyes glassy with tears as the air is knocked from your lungs. It rolls off your tongue easily. The sound of his name, his real name, is beautiful. “Wow. It’s... beautiful.” 

His response to your affirmation is like watching a galaxy of stars be born in front of your very eyes. He’s so receptive to it.. starved of it. 

  “I used to forget everything.” Din says. “The people who trained me.. they wanted me to be the best of our clan. There was so much we had to learn. Gun training, hand to hand, the significance of beskar and how important our Beskar’gam was to our safety. I was so good at it. I excelled.. but the one thing I could not shake? The water. 

They trained me in the water, jeti. They trained me in the water, to become part of the water... all I could think about was how much it suffocated me. I’m af-” He stops himself short because admitting to a fear is not something he was taught to do, it was bottle it up and compartmentalize in order to get the mission finished. “Afraid of the water because I can’t fight it like I do with a bounty. I can just..” 

  “Succumb. Sink. Let go.” You murmur. “And that’s not something you know how to do.” 

  “Yeah.” 

You’re oddly intrigued by the fact that this utterly fearless person, this man, was afraid. He’d always struck you as the opposite. 

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” You ask.  

  “Nearly drowning.” He replies. “And wondering how you and the ad would cope when I was gone. That’s why I need to tell you.” Din takes another step to close the gap that stands between you both. You’re practically trembling with anticipation. “Thinking about how...” 

Din stops. You rest a hand against the exposed skin of his neck and tilt your head as his mind thrums - resonates with the truth of his affection for you - and your lips part in wonder as you realize what he’s trying to tell you. 

  “Me too.” You whisper. “For a while.. probably since the start. Din, you are a good man. You’ve always been a good man, and I think it’s time that someone puts your needs before themselves instead of the other way around. Please.” Din is slightly taken aback at the pleading tone of your voice as you meet his gaze. “Please let someone take care of you.” 

That’s all you can muster before he’s collapsing at your feet. 

  ‘’Take it off.” He begs. 

  “No, no- Your Creed-” 

  “Sarad, I want to learn how to breathe again.” He interjects. “This is how I do that. It’s just a faster way of being able to be married to you for the rest of my life.” The man you love is kneeling at your feet and totally willing to abandon part of his livelihood because of you. “There’s nothing I’d want more. Go ahead. Take it off. Please.” 

Part of you had always been okay with the anonymity, but as this choice lays just within your fingertips, you find yourself desperate to look upon the face of the man who’d destroy entire galaxies for you and his son. 

The Beskar’gam hisses as you remove his helmet and find yourself staring into vulnerable onyx eyes that are wide enough to envelop whole star systems in their splendor. 

  “Din Djarin.” You whisper, smiling tearfully as trembling hands lift to cup a stubbled jaw. “What a beautiful face to put with an equally beautiful name.” 

He exhales his breath on a shuddered sigh and leans into your touch as you begin mapping his face with your fingertips. Din doesn’t dare move, too drunk on the feeling of touch ghosting across his skin in a intimate way that he’s not experienced since his parents left him in that cellar. His face grows warm at how needy he must seem, but you don’t seem bothered by it. 

In fact, the way his skin blooms red under your kiss makes your heart swell and your smile widen at the reaction it elicits. 

  “You know Din, if you wanted me to kiss you.. all you had to do was ask.” You muse. You can read his mind and his body in the same way you read the feel of your lightsaber and the air of a room of hostiles. “Now I don’t know about you, but The Child is asleep and I find myself tired after having to deal with Bo-Katan all day.. can we go to bed?” 

  “Yes.” He nods once, then twice, allowing you to take his gloves off and lead him in the direction of the tiny cot that somehow manages to house you both. The Beskar’gam comes off one piece at a time until Din is now standing in his usual underclothes which you have not been able to grace yourself with the image of until now as he lays each piece on the floor. 

You’re laying flat on your back when he’s finished, arms extended towards the ceiling as you beckon him forward. Din realizes that as he stares at your willingness to be there for him in his most vulnerable moment that he may sleep tonight with no night terrors. 

No thoughts of drowning. 

  “Din Djarin, cyare..” You coo, beaming as he crawls into the bed and allows himself to curl into your body and rest his head on your chest. “I think you should hear it now.” Gentle fingers card through dark curls as he focuses on his breathing - in and out in and out - and listens to the sound of your voice to lull himself to sleep. “I love you.” 

He hums thoughtfully and burrows himself deeper into your neck, smiling against the curve of your neck as you lightly graze his temple with your lips. Before Din can properly fall asleep, he rolls himself on top of you and settles himself comfortably against your body. It’s not too heavy, just enough to envelop you in the warmth he radiates. 

He’s safe.

You wrap your arms and legs around his form and nuzzle his temple. 

Darkness falls upon both of you as Din whispers, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” before promptly falling asleep in your capable hands. He’s safe. 

Tonight.. he’s not drowning. 

Tonight, he breathes. 

[reylofanfictionanthology]

TO FIND YOUR KISS IS NOW LIVE!  

Authors will be revealed next week!  For now all fics are anonymous.  Treats can be posted through author reveals on 2/21.  We will post an updated masterpost at that time.

To Find Your Kiss collection on AO3 | Treats Masterpost

GIFT FIC MASTERPOST

- Reap the Stars for abbytheatre08

The prompt: After Ben's death, Rey goes mad and turns to the dark side. Only Ben's not dead anymore. ----------------------- She is consuming fire, magnificent in her rage. She will burn the galaxy to its foundations, until the ashes rain down and pile high as mountains. She will gather them into bouquets and scatter them like petals upon his grave.

He will be remembered, and they will not.

Call him The Light Bearer and Joy Giver. Call him He Who Loved and Laid Down His Life. Call him Ben.

- we are question marks that hang above the endless unexplained for AlwaysEverlark

The first time she walked into his club, she was looking for a job. Kylo took one look at her—the stubborn pout of her lip, the determined glint in her eyes, the ruddy glow of her face where the sun had kissed it—and swallowed a lump in his throat that was shaped like the words you’re too good for this place.

They needed a singer. Kira Johnson could hold a tune, knew the old standards, and had a knockout pair of tits to boot. A few slinky ballgowns and a touch of lipstick, and she’d more than do the trick of distracting suckers long enough to part them from their money.

The club solely needed to break even; anything they made on top of the Syndicate’s cut was gravy, and Kylo Ren had been lining his pockets with his own take for long enough that he could see Kira for the lump of clay that she was: rough-hewn, misshapen, but soft and supple and sure to curve under his touch.

- Eighty Bucks Says Sweetheart for Amoreusou

Ben likes puzzles. Rey needs help with a bunch of them. Good thing it's a slow day at the office.

- Seldom Visions for Andrina_Nightshade

After visiting an old Sith temple, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren has fallen into a deep sleep when he pricks his finger on the point of a red crystal. Rey become is the first to find him, but his rescuer isn't just any general or pilot, it's the woman he shares a soul with, who haunts his waking hours, who still sees him even in his sleep.

- The Dyad for aneighthdomain

Based of the Prompt: Groundhog Day scenario. Ben and Rey keep getting sent back to the first time they met and no matter what they do, Ben always dies so they stop trying to change events and just live a life time in the year between and couple of weeks and run away together.

- Saudade: The Love That Remains for AnneAnna

- The Delegation for aNerdObsessed

A humanitarian delegation from Naboo arrives at Niima Outpost. Rey is skeptical, to say the least.

- i don't want you like a best friend for anopendoor

It’s not like she hadn’t seen this coming—Rose told her weeks ago that he was invited. It was an inevitability Rey was always going to have to face, she just didn’t think that Rose would be so merciful as to also give every guest a plus one.

But Rey can’t really be upset—and she is totally, unequivocally not upset—that Ben's bringing someone because, well.

She is, too.

- Love is Weakness for bittersnake

“He’s someone I found on my recent trip to Corellia,” Rey replies placidly, her face practiced in its boredom. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Love is weakness,” her grandfather reminds her, the way he has for years. It’s why he doesn’t love her. He will not be weak. It’s why she doesn’t love him, either.

- in sickness and in health (with health being less likely) for BlueButterflyKisses

Deciding to spend the rest of their lives together is the easy part for both Rey and Ben; the trouble is in how to propose.

- Snowed In for Blueyedgurl

Never in her wildest dreams did Rey Johnson think she would ever get to meet her favorite other Kylo Ren. She also would have never entertained the idea of the scenario she found herself in. How did a hike in the woods lead to a snowstorm and taking shelter in a remote cabin in the woods? The idea was so ridiculous but had become reality. Stuck inside with a handsome stranger surrounded by a winter storm, Rey wonders what will happen with no power and only one bed. Will they be polite co-habitants stuck in a strange set of circumstances or is there room for something more?

- Curses, Comforts and Capybaras for Bombastique

Arrogant CEO bites off more than he can chew when he angers a witch... And suddenly finds himself transformed into a capybara. Can kindhearted wildlife rehabber Rey Niima help him break the curse?

- To Heal a Broken Soul for Cat2000

Ben survives the fallout of Exegol, but his connection to the physical world is in danger. Rey tends to him as she searched for a way to heal him.

- holding me like water in your hands for Ceallaigh

After Hux finds out Ben killed Snoke, Hux encases Ben in Carbonite. Rey refuses to let Ben stay frozen forever so she mounts a rescue.

- Like a Thief in the Night for chagrins

Their bond won't let them be alone. At least this time it's the middle of the night and they can't get into a shouting match.

- The Chance for Crysania

When Rey and Ben, long time co-workers who have never been able to admit their feelings to each other, go on a weekend retreat to work on a movie adaptation script together, a Nor’easter leaves them snowed in. On Valentine’s Day.

- Awake for cuddlesome

Something inside him is awake, and something inside her is about to wake up.

An alternate interrogation scene.

- darkness rises, and light to meet it for czechia

After the throne room, Jedi Ben Solo and Kira Ren meet again a year later.

- Not Quite a Fairytale for DarkMage13

Rey lets a stranger use the phone of the café she works at late one night. It changes the whole course of her life.

- You Won't Escape Me ('Cause I Set You Free) for DoorKeeper9

- The Canvas of Your Skin for darlingreadsalot

She was incapable of touching him without drawing blood, it seemed. Lines like vermillion paint streaked where her fingers sketched down the contours of his face, his back, and now his chest.

In which a Force bond is splintered, a resurrection goes wrong, a kiss is forgotten, and two almost-lovers avoid speaking for the better half of a year.

- Fleeing the Storm for driverfever

As the granddaughter of an merciless aristocrat, Rey’s life hangs on a thread at the hands of the French Revolutionaries. When her childhood friend, Ben, offers to platonically marry her in order to take her to his home in England to safety, she has no choice but to accept.

But her suitor and revolutionary Hux won’t give her up so easily. Hounded by revolutionaries and falling in love, Rey and Ben must use all their wits to flee Paris and make it to England.

- Equal Measure for dustoftheancients

When Princess Rey of Coruscant calls upon the cursed Sir Kylo Ren to help her escape her grandfather the emperor’s political machinations, she discovers freedom in the ancient familial magic that binds them together.

- Benimina Solo's Late On-Set Force Ability for Evangel10n

Benimina Solo has never, not even once, had an ounce of Force Sensitivity. She's done a great deal to move on with her life after failing out of her uncle's Jedi training school. So when Rey Palpatine comes into her life and suddenly everything changes, she's not a happy camper.

- Splatter for expendable

“You’re Palpatine’s girl,” he says coldly.

“His chief of staff, yes.” Rey’s eyes narrow. “And you have your hand on my ass, Kylo. Kindly take it off.”

“Or what?”

AKA powerful corporate rivals Kylo and Rey put the hate in love/hate.

- The Haunted Mirror for FangirlintheForest

When Rey travels to UK to attend the reading of his grandfather will, a grandfather she didn't know existed until that very moment, she finds a house, and a old story that will haunt her...

- i'm your secretary for firelord65

Kaydel pressed her lips together in a thin line, passing a pile of datapads over the desk. “I don’t know what that pretentious nerf herder has put into your brain, but these are tales of the key roles women have played in past rebellions.” She stood, tapping the pile. “They’re great reads,” she added, with a pointed raise of her eyebrow.

- and they danced across the sky for flipflop_diva

When he was still a child, he constantly watched the blue butterflies as they danced in the sky.

They seemed to be calling him, aiding him each instance that icy-cold darkness flowed through his very veins. The magnificent creatures saved him from the voices. They drowned out the incessant chatter in his head. Temporarily cleared away all the anger. During those brief respites, watching those blue wings flutter in the sky, Ben felt free.

But that’s another life. Another world. Another time. Another, another, another.

And Kylo's no longer a child.

No. He welcomes the darkness now. Embraces it.

- Finding The Answer for FrenchMartiniPlease

Rey pines for Ben Solo…so why does her soulmate mark always drain of colour whenever she gets close to him?

- Almost Unforgettable for HopeRebel

The woman in the mirror has blood on her clothes, cash in her bag, and a letter from her husband telling her it's better to forget. Well, he got his wish. She forgot everything-- including her name. And she wasn't the only one afflicted.

It'll take the combined efforts of gumshoes, a flatfoot, a washed-up Hollywood starlet, and more to get to the bottom of this bad business. In the end, these things always come back to the beginning.

- The Curl of a Sigh for irridesca

During the last song in Maxine’s set, a song she announces is called “Soul Companion,” Ben heads back out to the lobby to look for Rey. He finds her not with his eyes but with one broad shoulder, when he bumps into her and knocks her gig bag out of her hands and onto the plush carpet.

- and they were roommates for Lady_of_Haven

When Ben loses a bet to his roommate, Rey, he has to eat her out for 30 days.

- torn away from you (my heart is broken) for lakerose

The Force binds more than minds.

- If You Take Me for literallynoonecares

She sighed wistfully as she watched her two friends lean in toward each other as they danced, their lips meeting and melding together as they seemed to become one person instead of two separate beings. She had seen them kiss so many times, but this kiss … it was special.“I just want someone to kiss me like that,” she mused softly to herself, her eyes not leaving her friends.“I could make that happen if you wanted.”

- 3 Days in Vienna for Like_A_Dove

Kylo Ren, trained mercenary Alpha assassin, is on a mission—assassinate Chancellor Palpatine and bring his underground authoritarian regime to an end. It’s what the First Order demands, for the better of society.

It should be an easy task. He’s been getting close to the Chancellor and his cronies for years. So how is it that the unexpected appearance of an Omega, with a seemingly similar mission—and a wholly inconveniencing scent—become a distraction he hadn’t accounted for?

- Confidence and Desire for LittleLostStar

“Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually, the confidence will follow.” - Carrie Fisher

- Love brightens even the most monstrous parts of ourselves for LRRH17

No one knows since when the giant, black bear has lived in the forest near Theed. Many stories about the origin of Kylo Ren circulate in the small village. After Rey has run away from Jakku, and arrived in Theed she has heard them all of, but has never actually meet the creature. This changes when her and her friends get attacked by bandits on their way back from Otoh Gunga.

- Your Sweetness Comes With Sugar on the Side for Lutrosis

Rey's daughter loses her mother as she wanders around the Supermarket. Ben finds her and the two connect over both being Type 1 diabetics. They find Rey, and Ben and Rey are instantly smitten. As they date and fall in love they discover that Jade and Ben are connected more than they thought and healing is brought to the Solo/Skywalker clan.

- Allegories, or Allusions to Real Life for maq_moon

“Boys, please stop arguing.” Rose rubbed her temples. “Poe, we get it, you’re childhood best buddies, you’ve got a better grasp on his character than some rando of a rando you met at a party. Finn, for fuck’s sake, we’ve been working with Ben for months. I’m pretty sure if he’s a serial killer or whatever, it would have come out by now.” Finn sat back in his seat, grumbling. “Not how serial killers work.” Rey was going to have a headache if this continued any longer, so she lied through her teeth at the reality of a new player joining their D&D party. "He seems nice." She didn’t trust a single inch of skin on that man. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

- A Mad Man, with a Box for MBlair

Rey and Ben meet, move in together, get engaged, and marry.

- Invite the Wild In for midwinterspring

Kylo Ren, the mysterious senator who appeared from out of the deserts of Jakku and somehow brought them back to life, has spent a long and unproductive session on Hosnian Prime. Now, it's time to go home. After all, there's someone waiting for him and so much for them to do together.

(The ancient Sith had some interesting rituals.)

- Purim Party for MissCoppelia

Rey goes back to visit her foster mother for a Purim celebration. She meets Ben Solo who's visiting his parents, who are friends with her foster mother. They have an attraction to each other right away, but try to play it cool.

- The Banished Heart for misszeldasayre

On Rey of Niima’s nineteenth name day, Jakku gains a new wizard.

Jakku is a withering outpost of the kingdom, and its people hope the new wizard - the mysterious Kylo Ren - will bring them the rains the land needs to heal. Rey is a lonely, clanless girl living in Niima, and she has a secret. One she hopes the wizard will be able to help her with too.

- The Smuggler's Bride for MyJediLife

Miss Rey Nemo is the new mistress of Manor Takodana, left to her by the late Lord Skywalker. When a strange man named Kylo Ren appears on her doorstep, she decides to hire him as her new groundskeeper. As Rey faces sinister threats and secrets are revealed, Kylo Ren may be the only person who can save her.

- Annabel Lee for myownlittleinfinity

Rey keeps finding these ... notes in her locker. She doesn't quite get them. They seem like love notes, but she doesn't know who they could be from. Meanwhile she's paired up with Ben Solo (who hates her despite her gigantic crush on him) for this English assignment. Who knows how THIS will go.

- with my body i thee worship for niennathegrey

Miss Rey Nemo is the new mistress of Manor Takodana, left to her by the late Lord Skywalker. When a strange man named Kylo Ren appears on her doorstep, she decides to hire him as her new groundskeeper. As Rey faces sinister threats and secrets are revealed, Kylo Ren may be the only person who can save her.

- the losing game for no_big_deal

Sith Princess Rey Palpatine is given a peculiar gift for her Life Day: a Jedi. Not only that, one who is boorish, spirited, and stubborn. But, he presents an opportunity: one that could liberate her from a life under the thumb of her grandfather. She has seven weeks to change his heart before all her freedom is taken from her - forever.

- standing right in front of you for notkellymarie

When Senator Solo's engagement is pushed forward, he and his Jedi bodyguard, Rey, travel to Naboo alone for the announcement ball. The pair despise each other, constantly bickering and disagreeing with each other, which makes spending extensive amounts of time alone together all that more difficult. Until of course, one of them breaks...

- the good, the bad, and the smuggling for OccasionallyCreative

Ben Solo is a seasoned smuggler. And he’s not bad at it, either. But when bounty hunter Rey offers him a temporary partnership he can’t refuse, Ben will find himself pushed to the limits of his skill, patience, and resourcefulness on a job that’s dangerous enough to be his last.

It’s like his dad used to say: bounty hunters are nothing but trouble, kid.

- Whatever our souls are made of...his and mine are the same for Padawan_Writer

Ben and Rey meet only after Kylo has defected from the First Order and returned to the Resistance and his mother. Will the dyad still find a way to be?

- They say that only the dead have seen the end of war for politicalpadmé

“He traded his life for mine,” Rey choked, stomping back and forth in front of him so fast he could barely keep track of her. “He died. He died so I didn’t have to—and it’s not—it’s—after everything he’s gone through—it’s not fair.” Tears were running down her cheeks now, and Poe wanted to do nothing more than hug her, but there was nothing he could say—nothing she would want to hear. Poe remembered all the people he’d lost, all the times he had raged and screamed and cried about the unfairness of it all. “Leia sacrificed herself to bring him back,” Rey declared suddenly, ceasing her constant pacing around the fire as she looked straight at him. “And he sacrificed himself for me—and now no one’s going to know. All he’ll be remembered as is Kylo Ren, but he was—he was so much more.” She exhaled with a shudder and whispered, “He was a part of me, and I—I don’t feel whole without him.” ~

A Force Ghost Ben/Rey love story, with a side of rebuilding the galaxy.

- Cicatrix for Priestly

Getting cut up by Rey on Starkiller awakens something in Kylo.

- I Will Always Be With You for Prix

But she wouldn’t be able to hide her pregnancy for much longer. She was starting to show, and her friends would start asking questions. She would have to give them answers, some of them would not understand, and none of them would accept.

She carried his child. The tiny spark of light woven with darkness, just like her. Just like his father.

—————

The world has gone dark More times than you Or your mother Or your grandmother Can remember. And every hurricane That was meant to be The end of it all Had instead ended In sunshine again.

So believe me When I say; You will survive this And the next one too.

World’s End—Nikita Gill

- all my daydreams are disasters for QueenOfCarrotFlowers

During her search for the infamous Luke Skywalker — the man who predicted a devastating earthquake in New Madrid, Missouri — Rey finds herself entangled in Luke’s family history and with his brooding nephew, Ben Solo.

- on what ground I was founded (when I first saw you) for redbelles

Kylo dreams of Rey after the Battle of Crait. And the yearning is mutual...

Some Force Bond dream smut inspired by "Shrike" and "NFWMB" by Hozier.

- Last Summer for Reykenobi68

Rey had started to get used to Ben not living next door anymore by the time the holidays came around. Then he's back for the holidays. Rey is really expecting things to go wrong after the way he left at the end of the summer. ut is it really going to be that bad.

- The Long Way Home for reylotrash711

In the aftermath of Exegol, Ben and Rey are divided by misunderstandings.  It will take time and danger for them to work things out.

- Under the moonlight for shariling

I don't know why I followed you here. She wanted to reply. Maybe because you're so tall I couldn't help but notice you. Maybe it's because of your hair or the way you move, or maybe it's because of that kind of melancholic look in your eyes. There is something about you that I find terribly attractive and I don’t know what it is: maybe the moon or the alcohol or the wolf I have met before infected me with some strange parasite and now I am hopelessly attracted to dogs, I do not know. She could have said one of these things, any of them, instead she said: “I've never bitten anyone before, and I want you to be my first.”

- Fallen for shipperofdarkness

Prompt: Devil!Ben and Angel!Rey or Angel!Ben and Devil!Rey. How do these two on completely opposite sides fall in love and defy worlds to be together?

- come away with me for silentfleur

Rey owns a tinker shop, but her life changes when she meets Ben Solo and is cursed by a witch. Not necessarily in that order.

- A Picture of Me Without You for SpaceWaffleHouseTM

"I suppose I'd somehow struggle through / But I'd hate to picture myself without you."

It's impossible not to have a soulmark. It's not a big deal, not in the lax and gin-soaked speakeasies of 1920s Manhattan, but it's still a heavy weight to bear, as Ben Solo and Rey find out side by side.

- Lips Raw With Love for stellardarlings

Their kiss on Exegol wasn't their first kiss...

Nor would it be their last.

- Everyone Makes Divine Mistakes for Takekurabehime

Jedi Knight Ben Solo is sent to Naboo on an errand of mercy (and to visit his grandparents). He arrives in springtime; but will he be able to complete his mission without finding himself distracted and bewildered when love and intrigue waft through the fragrant air?

- Glitter & Gold for TearoomSaloon

Rey is lead singer in an up-and-coming glam metal band. They've finally got steady performances, but that means playing at the same club as the Knights of Ren, whose lead singer definitely isn't interested in any competition.

- To kiss like lovers do for the-reylo-void (Anysia)

Ben and Rey spend their formative years growing up together in Medieval Scotland and it looks like they will end up together. Circumstances intervene and Rey loses her chance to be with him. Devastated, she carries on until the day clan Ren attacks Castle Jakku lead by the notorious killer Kylo Ren.

- Snow Turns To Rain for thehobbem

For a moment, he wanted to ask what she meant, but if he was being completely honest, he already knew.  He asked himself that same question over the years, and none more often than tonight, since seeing her again.  Was leaving worth it?  Was going their separate ways worth leaving each other?

 “I’m not sure,” he said finally, shaking his head.  “I’m happy...” he said, and she tensed a little, so he continued, “with my work.  I’m glad I’m doing what I love, but....”

 “But?”

 “But it wasn’t the only thing I loved.”

- Change the Dance for theresonatinglight

- Meet Me in the Woods for thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)

“What do you mean no one goes in there?” A chuckle. “It’s haunted. People see all sorts of weird things in there and some don’t ever come out. You’re better off living with your curiosity.” Rey wakes in a shadowy forest with no memory of where she came from, only her name. With the help of the resident guardian she takes a journey to figure out her past, and maybe even discover her future.

- permanent calligraphy (your name on me forever) for Thursdaygirl

As they continue to work together, two things become clear. One: Ben Solo is an enigma. He’s preppy yet humble, privileged yet introspective. He’s the opposite of lazy; she kicks herself every day for assuming otherwise. And two: Ben Solo will never love her.

- show me the stars. for tmwillson3

“I don’t hate Christmas, I just don’t love it the way you do.” Lifting his head, he pulls a face, loosening up a tangled ornament of a poodle with pink, curly fluff. Rey snatches it from him possessively, tossing it back to the cart. “No one loves it the way you do, to be fair.”

“Now that’s the truth,” says Poe, who Finn invited about half an hour ago to keep him company.

“People have bad taste, I don’t know what to say.” Huffing, Rey scrolls through her phone with more intent. “Neither of you are helping me, anyway.”

“What’s the problem?” says Poe.

“Rey thinks her hot neighbor hates her —”

“He does hate me.”

“ — When really he’s been flirting with her for the past, oh I don’t know, how long have you lived there?”

- I realized that I need you, I wondered if I could come home for VR_Trakowski

Rey is doing exploration work for the Resistance, searching for force sensitive planets so any force sensitives that they find have a place to train.

One day, midflight she finds a slip of paper with the elegant scrawling words of the ones that came before. The ones that she found when Ben still roamed the galaxy.

When she lands on a dark and barren planet she is forced to face the feelings she thought she buried.

- Shadows of the Moon for walkingsaladshooter

The hallways got darker, the corridors grew longer. Shadows stretched across the walls. The ghosts of Breha Manor grew each night.

Rey clutched her necklace. Ben met her gaze.

And every night, there was weeping.

- show the way (the world could be) for writergenie

In the aftermath of the Battle of Crait, Rey struggles to find her place among the Resistance. However, her lingering Force bond with Kylo— Ben— whatever name he calls himself— complicates things, blurring the line between friend and foe.

When the tension threatens to boil over and a desperate plan goes awry, Rey begins to wonder whether there really is a line between light and dark after all.

(Stars do burn brightest in the blackness of space.)

- why don't we go (somewhere only we know) for XarisEirene

The bond snaps back into place, even stronger than before. He is here. With Rey, yes, but with Luke - Luke, who is looking at them now with that same dangerous glint in his eye that haunts Ben’s dreams.

- renewed, transfigured, in another pattern for yodalorian

Rey mourns on Tatooine while Ben is stuck in the World Between Worlds. But neither of them are alone, and blue butterflies light a path back to each other.

[vi-is-short-for-violence]

New Frontier A Hollow Knight and Bug Fables crossover OC fic.

Full fic is under the cut!

PLEASE REBLOG!! MANY HOURS WENT INTO THIS AND I’D RLLY APPRECIATE THE SUPPORT!!

It had been a very interesting trip, taking the ferry from the continent Bugaria resided to the main continent known as The Outlands. Team Snakemouth, the heros of Bugaria were treated like celebrities everywhere they went. Everyone knowing them all by name and singing their praises, and if some weren't convinced of their greatness, many times bugs would contest them in combat and were quickly swayed into seeing their power. Vi especially enjoyed this attention.. being one of the first bees to truly venture beyond the Hive and find her place in the world as an explorer and rouge. The other two would often need to reel her in. Usually Leif did not mind Vi's more combative nature, so long as it wasn't a major risk.. though her pride is what both Leif and Kabbu would regularly keep in check. Leif appeared largely indifferent about their praise, but beneath his cold exterior, his friends knew he couldn't help but be grateful and flattered. Kabbu on the other hand loved the praise as much as Vi did, but unlike her, made sure to ground himself. If their mission around the legendary Everlasting Sapling taught him anything, it was that nothing was indestructible. Not the sapling, not his team, and certainly not him. After their first adventure however the one thing they all unanimously agreed on, was that they longed to continue their quests and even venture beyond Bugarias borders, and travel the mainlands.. The Outlands. They set sail into the world... the main continent.. the setting of their greatest adventures yet.

Team Snakemouth now walked on these ancient grounds.. and already the way they'd seen the world was beyond different than the world that came into view around them all. Chompy, the fourth and most beloved member of the team, who was resting comfortably around Vis neck and shoulders spread her autumn colored leaves.. taking in the bright sun. The other three gave a breath of pure awe.. The Outlands were full of rocky and mountainous terrain. Great mountains could be seen in the distance, their might and elegance seen plain and true even in the most distant horizons. "OOOUGH WHERE DO WE GO FIRST?! THE MOUNTAINS? THE PLAINS? THAT GIANT CLIFF?? OR- OR MAYBE WE COULD SEE WHATS OUT AT SEA OVER THERE!!" Squealed the VERY excited honeybee! "I'm not sure Vi! But my.. it is truly beautiful.. just as the tales foretold!" replied Kabbu. Looking just as giddy as Vi! The sun shining onto his iridescent green shell. "We feel like we've entered an entirely different realm. We can already feel an abundance of magic and energy here.." Leif remarked, spreading his navy blue and pale yellow accented wings. "Yeah yea, but can you imagine what kinda crazy treasure we could fine here? I heard this place is ancient as HELL!" "If I recall correctly Vi, The Outlands were settled eons before Bugarias continent was! It was filled with ancient scattered kingdoms." Kabbu knelt and placed his clawed hand on the ground, as if he were resting his claws on a monument of ancient history and peering into its secrets. "Hundreds of years ago, these lands were barren wastes. Polluted and corrupted with a dark substance.. These Outlands were once called The Wastelands, lawless and filled with mad bugs. That is why these scattered kingdoms existed. In a world devoid of life and law, someone had to do something." "Are these lands not still devoid of law? Law only exists in those kingdoms still we'd imagine." Inquired Leif. Kabbu stands back up and looks at his moth friend. "Well, yes and no. Some of the rulers of these lands keep an eye on the Outlands as a means of protecting potential citizens." Vi looked at Kabbu and raised a brow, "Jeez how do you even know all this stuff Kabbu?" "Well! If we planned on visiting this place, we might as well get to know it's history a little better." Vi shrugged, "Meh, fair. But hey, there's a lotta history in treasure toooo.~" "We anticipated a response like that. Lets not dally then. Kabbu, you know more about this place than either of us, do you know where we could head first?" Kabbu hummed wonderingly. "We could potentially head for the mountains, there are a fair few kingdoms there and we could stock up on supplies for the rest of our journey!" "FUCK YEA MOUNTAINS!!" Vi cheered, much to Kabbus displeasure hearing her curse like that again. "VI!! Watch your language!". Leif proceeded only to laugh.

It had been a long day, traveling to the base of the mountains. Bandits and beasts making attempts on their supplies and even their lives. Nothing they weren't used to really. Though there were a disturbing number of poachers. A dark stain from the Wastelands past economic practices; slaying bugs and selling valuable parts of them to the black market. Primarily wings, fluff, horns, hard shells and stingers, unique defenses of specific bugs, even certain pheromones to lure in bugs like ants. To say that their encounters with the poachers did not shake the group up a fair amount.. would be a dirty lie. They triumphed, but were still very on edge if they could harvest them. The sun began to set however, and the quartet was weary from the long day. Not a bad day, only a long one. Whimsy tainted by the reminder that the life of an explorer was still a dangerous one. Regardless, the team kept their spirits up. Knowing that the next day would bring great discovery! Following a nice meal and usual banter expected of their team, Team Snakemouth set up their temporary beds, and went to sleep for the night. Though one member of the team was far less of a deep sleeper than the others.. hearing faint, yet heavy footsteps, caused on of Vis antennae to perk up. She perked up, slowly looking around the area.. bathed in moonlight, yet sheltered from it in some areas with the rocks and shelter of the mountain and nearby terrain. But she could clearly see it. In the distance.. a tall, large and shadowed figure a fair distance from the team. It's silhouette was not one that Vi could identify, it appeared to have multiple horns, but the rest of its body held no defining traits. No abdomen, no wings, just a horned head and a long cloak.. as well as.. something spilling from its head that nearly dragged against the ground. Was... this even a bug? The lack of identifying features deeply frightened the bee. She remembered the last time she saw something like this. The reminder of the canniness of the Dead Landers shot a spine straight through her of pure fear and stress. This was... big. Not nearly as big as that.. thing with those large orange eyes was.. but it was still big whatever it was. Vi, now thoroughly terrified, slowly grabbed her beemerang and slowly approached the large rock that sheltered them from outside sight. Slowly she turned back to look at the figure. They appeared to sit down, back against the base of the mountain, sifting through items that Vi could not properly see due to the lighting. She squints to try and get a better look, before her heart was thrown into the base of her stinger. It looked at her. Two bright blue sparks for eyes stared directly at her. As quick as she could she immediately ducked back behind the rock, stifling any and every sound she made by desperately covering her mouth. Claws digging into her cheeks as fear overtook her. Dammit! Being stuck in this sort of situation scared the hell out of her, no, terrified her beyond words, but at this point she was starting to grow frustrated. They were fighters goddammit! Not cowards! Her and the others took out way worse than this, she- they could do this! So then why would her limbs not move an inch? Why was she still paralyzed with horror despite her frustration and rebellion against these intense feelings of fear?? She held her beemerang in a death grip, shaking intensely, which only grew worse when those footsteps began to approach once again. Move. MOVE! "VI! KABBU! CHOMPY! ON YOUR GUARD!" yelled out another voice. The familiar crack of Leifs magic smacking against the carapace of an enemy bug, as the large figure stumbled backwards with a grunt. Leif stood over his resting spot, glowing with that cold, blue magic. Kabbu and Chompy following suit. Chompy let out a horrendous roar, the chomper had grown in size since the teams first adventure, and while not as big as the mother she would eventually become, she was still quite formidable. Horrifyingly, the other "bug" let out an enormous and otherworldly sounding roar in response, as the appendages that came down its head flared up like black vines. Even Chompy recoiled at the sight. The creature leaped back, drawing a large sword and glaring with those bright blue eyes. "Vi!" Kabbu looked over to the trembling bee. "Come on, it's okay. Lets take care of this!" He held out his hand to help her up. Snapping out of her paralysis, she glared a serious look at Kabbu. "R-right!". The dark figure loomed over all four of them. Squinting at them as they readied for battle. "Four on one don't seem too fair.." it spoke.. it's voice, surprisingly normal sounding, though it had a sort of accent that struck the four as unfamiliar. "Yeah?! And NEITHER DOES SNEAKING UP ON A GROUP WHILE THEY'RE ASLEEP!!" Shouted Vi, anger and fear clear in her young voice. She threw the beemerang with all of her might, making a sharp CRACK as it made contact with the beast. It growled.. "I was doin no such thin' lil girl! I saw you gettin' a good look at me while I was lookin' through mah thin's!" Kabbus expression lightened a bit, "Wait- then maybe this was a misunderstanding?". The creature huffed, "S'fine. M' a big guy after all.. tend t'scare a few bugs out ere.. but since ya'll got up wantin' a fight then lets have one!" The creatures voice went from a gruff, tired and frustrated tone, to sounding as if it had all the energy in the world with the prospect of a battle. "BRING IT ON BIG GUY!! WE'LL WIPE THE FLOOR WITH YOU!!" Vi angrily shouted. Kabbu and Leif looked to one another, Vi's rage evident in her tone and posture. Kabbu and Leif knew there was no bringing her back from that, but they couldn't simply leave her to fight alone. They straightened themselves out once more. The creature turned out to be quite quick for its size, and it was able to take one hell of a beating. The Team would need to react quickly to block and chip away at its health. Saving Team Points primarily for healing and reviving, as well as low cost special attacks. Unlike The Everlasting King, it could heal but it could not steal health from them, and healing spent its entire turn. What sucked however was that his defense was high and his attacks hit hard. It was tough for sure, multiple times the team would go down, but they got right back up thanks to Kabbus pep talk and Vis shared stash. Eventually, for as long as the fight went on, it eventually ended with Team Snakemouth as the victors. As the beast finally fell, the light of dawn spilled over the land. Everyone was weary and very injured. The beast chuckled, "Good fight... hh..hhh.. ain't had one like that n' a while I gotta say. Good job.." "Who.. hhh. are you.?" "And more importantly WHAT are you..?" Kabbu asked before quickly being interrupted by Vi. With the light of dawn more of the beat became visible. Its horned head was an off-white shell, that looked almost like a mask, even the right side of it had a long crack that stretched from the top of its head to the base of its chin with some grass stains littering it in some places. It wore a black and grey patchwork cloak with a blue medal clipped to it and lastly, it's eyes. Not fully blue, in fact mostly black with blue pupils that looked like sapphire rings. What spilled down from its head however? None of the bugs could identify. It wasn't antennae, or fur, and while they somewhat looked like vines, they were smooth and black and even appeared to glimmer as if they were wet. "M'names Finnley. M' from a far away Kingdom ere.. betcha mighta heard uh Hallownest. But guessin yer not quite sure what I am thats- actually a toss up huehue!" Kabbu perked up a little bit. Despite his exhaustion, he couldn't help but be excited. "I have heard mentions of that place, yes! But its whereabouts and information I am unfortunately unaware of." It was hard to tell, but Finnleys face appeared.. vaguely happy.. despite lacking a mouth and appearing more like a mask. "Well. S'where me n all my kind 're from. We're vessels, n all of us 'r siblin's too! Ya might actually run intuh a few'uh us out ere!" Leif canted his head slightly, "Vessels. An odd name for a species of bug.." "Yeah and how are ALL of you siblings?" Vi interjected, skeptical of Finnleys claims. "Well it's a long ass story, one ion't think you'd wanna hear all of from me. But you stick round long enough you'll find out soon enough. S'pretty common knowledge ere." Finnley perks up a bit. "Oh! Shit I should probably heal yall up actually. Er, gunna need t' hold yalls hands t'do it though, if ya don' mind." Leif extended his hand, aware of what this could be. He's proven correct when white energy swirls around Finnley, moving over to Leif. Patching up his wounds. Soul focus. An ability utilized by only gods, higher beings and powerful mages. Kabbu and Vis eyes widened. "Woah what the hell?? How did you do that??" Asked Vi, amazed. "Soul Focus." spoke Leif. "But we believed only higher beings, gods and powerful mages could do something like that.. we did not take you to be any of those things." "S'a long story, again, like I said. But ey. S'th' least I can do after scarin yuhs." Finnley chuckles before healing Kabbu, Vi and Chompy as well. "Thank you kindly Finnley. We should likely introduce ourselves as well come to think.. My name is Kabbu. This is Leif, this is Vi, and this.." he lifts up the chomper plant. "Is Chompy!". Finnley giggles again, stroking Chompys head with his finger. "D'aw! Cutie pie! S'one hell of a murder machine but a cutie pie nontheless." "We agree wholeheartedly." Agreed Leif. After a while of speaking, Finnley gave the group a map of the Outlands, as well as what places to avoid, and a list of hotspots to rest up and stock up before actually making it to a kingdom. "If yer thinkin' uh goin up t'the mountains, ah'd suggest goin t' Xhalyun. Eroanne's nearby Xhalyun too n both 'r cold as hell, but Xhalyun shit is a helluva lot cheaper than Eroanne, closer too." Finishing that thought he handed Kabbu the map, to which he made a delighted squeak of excitement. "Thank you kindly, Finnley. Despite first impressions I am very glad to have run into you!" Leif nods in agreement as Finnley lifts up his bag. "Ain't no problem sir. I wish ya'll luck out there. N hey, maybe if we meet again ya'll can tell me shit bout Bugaria. Been wantin t'head over there myself someday." "Oh you'd love it there! It's a wonderful place.." Finnley nodded, before kneeling down to Vi. "Ay kid, sorry fer scarin' ya." He holds out his hand and Vi raises a brow. "Let's battle again sometime aight?" Vi hesitates for a second before her usual smirk returns to her, placing her hand in his for a handshake. "Abso-goddamn-lutely heheh!! Better be a bigger challenge next time though!!" Finnley gave a great laugh and stood back up again. "You too kiddo! If you ain't gettin better ain't no damn point in it! I'll catch ya'll later uh?" "For certain. Take care." remarked Leif with a smile, as both teams parted ways.

As the towering Vessel took his leave.. he chuckled to himself.. "..Seeker.. Wanderer.. I wish ya'll could come with me when I go t'Bugaria.. I know ya'll'd love diggin' intuh th' place.." "...Maybe one day we will.. I'd love that."  

[spideymarvelws]

Ready Or Not

 Prince!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglists

A/n : I like royal aus leave me alone

Summary : With the plan in action to finally take down the king, you and Tom have a final talk before the battle for freedom, not before he has a vivid nightmare leaving him questioning if everything is really worth it to save his people.

Warnings : cursing, descriptions of blood, death (animals and people), violence,  floof and angst

Word Count : 4.2k

...

“Again,”

“But father-”

“I said again.”

Tom took a deep breath, rolling his shoulder muscle before loading his bow with an arrow, raising it up and drawing it back. He didn't want to release it, he already killed so many harmless animals that his father just left to rot, not even taking it in to use as food for the kingdom. 

Sure, the rest of the animals of the forest would have a field day with the meat, but what was the point when they had the power to do it themselves? Maybe it was just the sick smile on his father’s face when he walked up to the dead corpse, kicking its limp body in victory. He could still feel the bile in his stomach threatening to rise when every arrow hit, killing the helpless animals.

“Shoot it Thomas,” His father whispered faintly in his ears, a harsh hand falling on his shoulder, “Shoot it in the heart,”

Tom held his breath, aiming the arrow at the animal before finally releasing, flinching at the sound of arrowhead puncturing the flesh. He looked down at the ground in shame, not wanting to see the dead animal bleeding out on the floor.

“Good job,” his father said, patting his shoulder, “She’s going to enjoy the pain,”

Tom grew confused at his fathers words, usually he wouldn't question his outlandish comments but the exhaustion creeping up his back took away the filter keeping his thoughts to himself, “I don’t know about that father,” he scoffed, ready to move on the next victim if that meant getting back to the castle early.

“Shame really, she was a beautiful one,” he continued, ignoring his son’s words, “But that’s what you get when you come into the wrong territory,”

Tom rolled his eyes, “Pretty sure we’re the ones who invaded them,”

“Still, I'm still powerful enough to let you do the work for me,” he cackled, “Powerful enough to make you kill your own friend or was she more than that?” he said slowly, his voice becoming dangerously low,“Y/h/c hair, y/e/c eyes and a spirit that lead to her demise,” his voice started to echo, “By your own hand,”

Tom’s eyes shot open, he looked back at his father before looking at the clearing where he shot the deer. Instead of the bleeding out animal he expected, he saw you, on your knees with an arrow sticking straight out of your chest.

“No,” he uttered, dropping his weapon and running to you, sliding to his knees as your body fell, limp in his arms. 

“No, no, no,” he repeated, holding you close to his chest. The arrow melted away, leaving a hole in the middle of your body.

“If only you didn’t bring her into this,” his fathers voice continued to boom in the back of his mind as he shakily put his hand on your cheek, drips of water falling from his eyes and on to your skin, “If only you were not foolish enough to defy me!”

Tom tried his best to block out his father's voice, which was much easier than he expected when he looked down at your face. Blood seeping out of your nose with your eyes wide and blown without movement and your skin becoming dull and cold to the touch. He didn't care that the red liquid stained his clothes or his father’s hurtful words, all he cared about in that moment was you.

He clenched his eyelids together, “This isn't real, this isn't real,” he said to himself, rocking your body back and forth in his arms as he held you impossibly closer, “This- this isn't real,”

“Is...it?” you croaked, coughing up a wad of blood from your mouth, “Is- Is this not reality?”

“It can’t be,” he cried softly, shakily wiping the blood dripping down from your nose, “I won’t allow it,”

“B-but you d-did,” you began coughing again, “I’m dead,” your voice trailed off, “I’m dead because of-” you paused, your lip quivering, “because of you,”

Your head drifted to the side, your eyes becoming empty with no movement. Tom couldn't breath, his mind too busy trying to process your still body in his arms, your skin blotched with blood and the words that just spilled from your mouth. He sat in silence, completely in shock as the warm touch from your skin was replaced with the coldness of the snow falling from the sky.

“Don’t worry Tommy,” his father sneered, a hand falling on his shoulder just like moments ago, “She won’t be going alone,” 

Tom raised his head, suddenly he wasn't in a dense forest but a large plain, bodies splayed all along the dry grass. They continued on for as long as he could see, disappearing into the distance. The ones closest to him he recognized, close colleagues and friends part of the rebellion, the same people he convinced years ago to join his cause having the same fate as you. When he looked back at your face, it was replaced with a dirty skull, the rest of your body just a pile of bones.

He pushed away the skeleton, crawling backwards when his father began walking over the corpses, kicking them aside like pebbles on a sidewalk.

“I thought I taught you well, I thought you were ready to be the future king,” His father made large steps towards him, his stance looming over him, growing and growing with each one. His boots hitting the floor shook the ground beneath him, keeping him stuck to the floor and unable to stand. 

Soon his back hit the trunk of a tree, stopping him in his tracks as his father came closer and closer.

“All these men, they could've been safe, alive with their families,” he chuckled, “But now there dead, dead because of you,”

Suddenly his father grew, his gold tunic stretching, tearing off his chest as his skin morphed into a black mush. His eyes turned sharp and red, glowing as the wind began to blow harshly, taking away some of the black liquid, only for it to grow back, patching the menacing monster his father turned into.

But before it could swallow him whole, he shot up in his bed drowning in sweat.

His hand slapped to his chest as he steadied his breathing, the other supporting himself on his makeshift mattress of leaves and scraps of cloth. He quickly took off his shirt, throwing it off to the side as he bursted out of the tent, stumbling to the ocean. 

As he reached the sand, he fell to his knees, his hands reaching for the water and splashing it on his face in a desperate attempt to rid his eyes of what he just saw, what he just lived through. But washing his face alone wasn't enough, your blood didn't just hit his face but his body, his clothes. He stood up shakily, walking slowly into the cold water.

As cold as your skin when you died in his arms.

He shivered at the thought, continuing to submerge himself in the ocean, feeling more and more at peace with each step. He walked until he was fully under, his body moving with the waves of the water, cleansing him from the night.

But his father’s sick smile haunted him, even in the tranquility.

It was the same smile he’d seen since he was little. He remembered his first memory of it, when he was only four standing out on the balcony as he watched him raise the taxes in the kingdom after the beheading of a guard who was conspiring against him.

His young brain didn’t comprehend what happened that day, but the days to come definitely showed the effects his father had on the people. He never traveled to the village often, but when he did he always managed to keep his head down, shame and guilt filling his mind at the clothes and jewels weighed down in his body when everyone else wore musty brown potato sacks.

The differences only became worse when he grew older, resenting his father more and more as he noticed the gap between him and his people, the rich and poor. He only ever kept the men who were useful to him, pushing everyone else aside as casualties of his power.

The last straw was when he was fourteen, when his father brutally murdered a man right in front of his family for not lowering the price of his wine. He ran into the woods that night, looking for an escape. But the shadows of the trees and rustle of the small animals made him even more scared and lost.

But that was when he found you running through the trees, giggling with a bunny in your arms. You spotted him cowering in the bush, offering your hand and your new pet as comfort. You were an orphan, a free spirit roaming the woods with the animals as your only friends. Later on he learned that you had a mentor who taught you your skills in swordsmanship only to lose a fight protecting you against his father’s guards.

You resented him at first upon seeing the emblem of the kingdom sewn into his clothes, but he gained your trust by ripping off the patch and stomping on it with his boots, offering you his companionship.

From there you two were inseparable, he snuck out to meet you almost every night either to talk, to train or to just stroll around, enjoying each other's presence. Sure, he had multiple friends back in the castle, he had his brothers who also joined him for the rebellion, but the bond he made with you was different to anything he’s ever had before.

You were the first person he went to when he started to conspire against his father. You were the person who helped him through it, who taught him things he never knew. You were his first everything, his first fight, his first loss, his first win, his first kiss and his first love. 

He couldn’t lose you, anybody but you. 

And seeing you, the blood, the look, the words spilling from your mouth. He couldn't help but think it wouldn't be just a dream, that his father would get to him, would change him back to the life of a royal and make him betray the only people he was able to call home.

He wasn’t ready to face his father, no matter how many times he told himself that he was just a person, in his eyes he was the black void he saw in his dreams. A monster that couldn't be defeated.

Before he could think further, his breath caught up to him making him choke.

He gasped as his face broke the water, flailing around his arms to stay up float. He didn't know how long he had been underwater, but it gave him enough time to come up with three conclusions;

That this rebelion wasn't going to work.

The fear of his father never left.

And he was going to loose you because he was to idiotic to keep you out of his father’s wrath.

He decided to lay in the water until the sun rose and his skin became wrinkly.

...

“They’re going to set up soldiers all around the walls, our objective is to break in without being detected,” your voice boomed through the cave, concentrating on the map drawn into the brown sand, “We have people on the inside prepared to give us armor and all the materials we need,” you looked up to the people around you, “I need everyone else on the outside, even with our intel, we don’t know what the king might have up his sleeve,”

Tom watched from the corner as everyone nodded their heads. He could see almost every emotion passing through their minds, fear, confusion, regret, determination. But it was too late for them too back out now despite whatever they may be thinking, it was too late for anyone. The plans have already been set, years of preparation for tomorrow couldn't go to waste.

“Any questions?” You leaned back on the rock you sat on, looking around at the people surrounding you. Nobody dared to say anything, only looking around to there fellow pairs, silently communicating with each other, “Great,” you took the silence as a yes, “get some rest everyone,” You looked up to him with a tired smile, “You’re going to need it,”

Tom looked on as everyone dispersed, walking with one another to their respective tents and beds for the night. Usually he would stay behind with you near the fire until it went out, talking about whatever came to mind. But this time he couldn't find the heart to approach you, images of his dream flashing through his mind every time he caught a glimpse of your face illuminated by the flames.

Images of your bloody face, the harsh words seeping out of your mouth along with his father’s words jabing at his chest, making it hurt more and more with every passing second.

To the point where he couldn't handle standing in your presence much longer.

He walked out of the cave, not caring for the people he bumped into on the way out. He could feel the weight on his chest leave as soon as he caught a glimpse of the sun leaving from behind the ocean. 

Despite the pressing times, the location of your lookout was beautiful. A cliff located on the outskirts of the kingdom, near the waters where the docks were only a short trip away. Sure, it was risky to set up so close to the castle, but you insisted solely because of the view.

“Shouldn't you be sleeping with everyone else?” You said from behind him, your footsteps crunching the dry grass beneath it.

“I could say the same for you,” he replied, keeping his gaze on the sea, he knew that he couldn't face you yet, but he didn't have the heart to walk away from a conversation, “You out of all of us need it,”

“We all need it Tommy,” You sighed, waking up beside him with your arms crossed, “Tomorrow is-,”

“-a very important day, I know,” he nodded his head playfully, “You’ve said it to me hundreds of times today Y/n/n, I’m surprised you didn't include it in your little speech,”

“Did you not like it?” You teased, “I thought it was quite good,”

“I’ve heard it so many times i’ve become numb to it at this point so I can't really say,” he chuckled, dropping his head to the floor, “But for your ego, it was amazing,”

“Thank you,” you said smugly, “You would have done well to you know, instead of brooding in the corner,”

“Your the spokesman here, not me,” he grinned, “I’m the one who has to safe your ass when it goes poorly,”

“I’m sorry, was i not the one who had to teach you how to hold a fucking sword properly?”

“I’m good with a sword!”

“Against a hundred men?”

“Well-,” he cut himself off, thinking of the odds in the situation. He had skill, but he was no wear as agile with a sword as you were. That, and bows weren't made for close combat.

“Thought so,” you smirked when he kept silent, pulling out a blade from your belt and twirling it around in the moonlight. You jotted it in his direction, giggling as he flinched away from the weapon, “Seems all of my training has been for nothing,”

“I’m not scared of the blade, I’m scared of you there’s a difference,”

“Then I take that back, I’m doing my job just fine,” you smiled, putting away your weapon,“Look, I have the sword and you have the arrows,” you shrugged, nudging his side with your elbow, “We make the perfect team,”

“Yeah,” he sighed, looking off at the sea, “Perfect team,”

You bit your lip, looking off into the distance with him. Tom was never one to express his emotions often, he always kept up his reputation of being a stone cold leader. But in your eyes, he was as easy to read as a children's book. You knew when he was holding back, the stiffness in his posture, his subtle lean away from you. You knew that if you leaned in to take his hand in comfort, he would deny it. 

Even this morning, you noticed his hesitation to approach you with his usual hug, instead he gave you a half hearted smile before taking his horse for a ride in the nearby field. He didn't come back till sun set, waiting till the meeting to even be in the same room as you. You were surprised he didn't walk away when you approached him by the cliff, but you were grateful that he didn't.

“Everything alright?” you started, looking at him in hopes that he would make eye contact.

“You already know the answer to that Y/n,” he sighed, passing his hand over his face.

You nodded, pushing your hands into the pockets of your pants, “Well, are you going to tell me about it or just stand around stand around like a little gremlin,” you tried to make a joke but it fell flat.

Tom opened and closed his mouth, his face twisted from worry to anger to sadness. It was hard to keep up with only the side profile you saw. 

“I had a dream,” he finally mumbled, letting out a deep sigh, “Well, more like nightmare,”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I-” he ran his hand through his hair, “I don't know?” he paused, “I guess, I’m just having second thoughts about this, about all of this, ”

Your first instinct was to drill him about what he was thinking, that second guessing himself the night before you stormed the castle was stupid, irresponsible and a risk to the whole operation. But this wasn't some random person part of your people, this was Tom, your best friend, alliance and closest person you had. 

“What happened?” you whispered, wanting nothing more to take his hand and pull him in a hug, “Tommy-”

“It was about you,” he finally turned to face you, his eyes red, ready to burst into tears, “It was about you, and my father and everyone who walking into this fucking mass suicide,” 

You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“There were bodies Y/n, bodies of everyone and my dad he- he-,” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he took his face in your hands, rubbing the tears that began to spill from his eyes.

“I just don’t understand,” he shook his head, “Why can’t we just leave, build a new life away from everything,”

“We can’t leave everyone behind,” you said softly.

“They have a choice whether they want to stay or not in the kingdom! Why should we risk our lives for there's!”

“You and I both know that they don’t have a choice Tom, not when your father is in rule,”

He sighed, licking his chapped lips, “I know, I know,” he put his hands on top of yours, “I just wish there was another way,”

“Me too Tommy,” You pulled him into a hug, his face burying itself in the crook of your neck, “But the way that I think it, if everything happens the way it’s supposed to, we could finally have the freedom we deserve. We just need to hang in there, you need to hang in there, okay?”

“I will,” he mumbled into your shoulder, “I’m just-” his breath hitched, “I’m scared of my father Y/n, I’m scared of what he’s capable of,”

“But we’re capable of more,” you pulled back, whipping the excess tears from his eyes, “We’ve been planning this for years Tommy, for years we’ve stood on the sideline watching as he terrorized the people of his kingdom, the kingdom that is rightfully yours,” you smiled, “If anything, he should be more scared of you,”

Tom scoffed, “I fine that hard to believe,”

“Well it’s true,” his hands moved to your waist, squeezing gently as you continued, “You’re no longer that scared little boy from years ago Tom. You’ve grown so much in not only your skills but your leadership. All these people have stuck with you because they believe in you, you made them believe that a life of freedom is worth fighting for,”

“That wasn't all me-”

“Tom, you convinced me that our freedom was worth fighting for, you’re the reason I’m here,” you brought your forehead against his, “You’re a natural born leader Tommy, and I have no doubt in my mind that when you face your father all fear will go away and turn into the righteous leader your made to be,”

Tom looked at you with glistening eyes, his lips slightly parted as he took in your words, “Do you really think so?”

“I know so,” you whispered.

“Y/n, I-”

“You don’t need to say anything,” you smiled, “I just- I just wanted you to know that,” you chuckled awkwardly, releasing how close the both of you had gotten.

You moved to pull away but his hands on your hips kept you still, pulling you even closer against his chest, his breath hot against your face.

You’ve always had those feelings about Tom, the butterflies flying in your stomach every time you talked. Your words became short when he looked into your eyes with his deep brown orbs.

But you always pushed it aside, for the country, for your people and the fear that he wouldn't feel the same. 

“When- when this is all over,” he started quietly, “I’m not taking the crown Y/n, I can’t after everything we’ve been through, you know this,” he sighed, “I’m suppose to tell you this after the rebellion but, I found a cottage in the woods near the rivers, spent time cleaning it and i’m planning on living there for a while, at least after Harry takes my place on the throne,” he held his breath, “And I want you to come with me,”

You stood speechless at his suggestion. To be honest, you didn't know what you were doing after the rebellion was over. For most of your life you were so focussed on the outcomes of tomorrow that you never spent the time wondering what might happen after. 

But one thing you knew for sure was that you weren't leaving your people, were ever they resided, you would stay with them. And that included Tom.

You were shaken out of thought when he stepped back, taking your silence as a nice way of telling him no. Before you could say anything though, he started rambling.

“You don’t have to of course, I’m sure you probably have your own plans after everything but I just thought I’d let you know,” he scratched the back of his neck, laughing off his nervousness and the rejection.

“How close is the cottage to the kingdom?” you asked, taking his hand to keep him from backing away any further.

“On horseback, maybe an hour ride?” he said.

You smiled, looking down before looking back up at him. You pulled him back against your chest, throwing your arms around his shoulders, “That sounds reasonable,” you giggled at his shocked face, “As long as were close by, I don’t see the issue with it,”

Tom let out a breathy laugh, wrapping his hands around your waist and hugging you tightly. He lifted you up in the air, spinning you around as you both erupted in giggles. All thought of war and fighting left your minds when he settled you back down, keeping eye contact as he smiled wider than you’ve ever seen.

WIthout thinking, you pushed your lips against his, immediately regretting it when he froze. But before you could pull away, he relaxed, pulling you closer and molding his lips with yours. 

His lips were rougher than you imagined, dry against your skin but you could have cared less. Your fingers moved to tangle themselves in his dirty locks, smiling when he groaned into your mouth as you tugged on the strands, deepening the kiss. He passed his tongue on your bottom lip, asking for access which you granted, letting him explore your mouth for as long as he pleased. When he finally pulled away, he took your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it gently.

“I’ve been waiting so long to do that,” he grinned, going back in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Took you long enough,” you giggled, nuzzling your cheek against his chest as you hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go.

Tom only tightened his arms, keeping you as close as possible. He didn’t know what the future held, he didn’t know if you’d both survive the fight tomorrow. But the one thing he knew was that right then, in that moment, he had everything he needed right in his arms.

And maybe, just maybe, things would be alright.

“We’re going to get through this Tom,” you mumbled.

“We are,” he said, resting his cheek on the top of your head, “We will, all of us will,”

...

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[bill-y]

INURE

Peeta Mellark x male reader

[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part five: Click here, butters, elpacho, last meheecan.

Part six: You're here, dumb!

Part seven: Finally here!

Wattpad account: L0calxDumbass

Peeta and I end up helping Haymitch to his compartment, the reek of vomit and alcohol wasn't exactly pleasant.  Since we couldn't set him down the bed, we ended up hauling him to the bathtub, setting the shower on him. 

Peeta gave me an odd look when I laughed awhile ago; there was no humour in the situation after all. Forming a good impression wasn't really on my agenda. "It's alright; I can take it from here," he said.

I nodded, "Okay," I nodded, putting my lips together. "Do you—need me to call those Capitol people?" I asked, stumbling over my words. My confidence seemed to have been drained at some point.

He shook his head "No, I don't want them," he responded. I nod for the last time and head to my own room, relieved that I don't have to wash putrid vomit off Haymitch's chest hair, or something. Though it would be the perfect "revenge" for the people working here, I get why he doesn't want to see them. 

I wonder, why does he want to help such a wreck? Was he simply kind like the time he gave me bread? Or was he using this to gain Haymitch's favour? A feeling of nervousness bubbled up within me, a kind Peeta Mellark was way more dangerous than an unkind one. Not everyone in the district can afford to be kind, so kind people make such a mark on me.

I looked at the packet of cookies at the table beside the fancy bed—a lump formed in my throat. Kindness would've been nice, but not in this situation. I sighed, taking my attention to the window instead. 

There stood a lonely yellow flower, a dandelion. It took me back to the schoolyard, all those years ago. My eyes had just left Peeta's bruised face when I saw that dandelion; hope rose within me that moment, I plucked it gently from the ground and hurried home. I grabbed a small, broken bucket and grabbed Nal's hand and headed to a meadow. It was filled with the same flowers.

It was the first moment where Nal smiled after our Father's death. He loved the way the flowers smelled and looked. However, he was quite upset because we had to eat them, with the rest of the bakery bread. My father loved his plants, maybe a bit too much. 

I remember countless hours we spent in the woods looking for a specific type of plant, whether for eating or for medicine. He had me memorize them by heart, which took a couple of years because I got distracted halfway through. 

The next day, we were off to school. I hung around the edge of the meadow after, contemplating whether I should jump the fence. My mother couldn't get a job, well, she didn't want to. She thought the whole District would shame her the moment she stepped out of our crumbling home. It made no sense to me; we had nothing to lose anymore.

Which is exactly why I went under the fence, retrieved the old, leather-bound daggers my father made from scraps and wood. It was pretty frail, but if you handle it carefully and throw it properly, it won't break—most of the time.

I didn't go beyond twenty yards that day; I didn't feel confident enough to go deeper, fearing I'd get lost in the forest. I took home a small rabbit that day, we hadn't had meat for months, so it honestly looked like a full course meal, like the one we were served in the tribute train.

My mother isn't the greatest cook, so she burnt a couple of bits, mainly the thighs. But it still filled us. The woods became my second home, escaping the sad atmosphere my mother gave off and the pressure the Peacekeepers would regularly make us feel. 

The hunting started slow, but each time I went under, I went deeper. I stole eggs from nests, jumped from tree to tree and managed to shoot a squirrel or two down. I struggled with the fish; my father would always throw his dagger to the fish with little to no effort. Whenever I'd throw mine, it would miss. It took me a couple of times to figure out the water distorts my vision.

The plants were no effort; I knew which one to pick, which ones were poisonous. The signs of danger used to terrify me back to the fence until I gathered enough courage to climb the tall trees, then I stuck with it, not liking the feeling of being chased. The wild dogs would always leave me alone after a while.

On July 15th, I finally signed up for the tesserae, carrying the first batch of grains and oils in the same broken bucket I used to gather those dandelions. I patched it up with some scrap bark. On the 15th of every month, I would put my name once again. I still had to hunt; grains weren't enough. We still needed soap, milk, thread and many more things we used to have. I began to trade in the hob, learning how to hold my tongue in the process. My father used to trade there as well; he used to do all the talking while I watched, stayed silent. 

And so I simply tossed the game I had to their tables. They caught on fairly quick; I'd only speak up when it came to bargaining or when I'd change what'd I'd buy. Or when I would insult wild dog soup. My father was a charismatic man, always able to persuade people to buy whatever. Not me, though, I was like a sore thumb. Painful, to talk to at least.

My mother wasn't very enthralled with the fact that I had been hunting, too much like my father, she said. That's when we argued, "Don't be stupid like your father!" she shouted. I remember my face contorting to anger, how my fists clenched as she continued to scream. 

I finally exploded, "Why don't you go out and get a job if you don't want me hunting, then? You'd rather we starve?!" I said, slamming the table. "I won't die, I won't end up like father! I won't be Capitol's pig, neither was he!" 

"But if you do die?" She argued back, tears flowing down her cheeks as she gripped both my shoulders. "I'm only thinking of you, Y/n!"

I scoffed, glaring at her, "If you're thinking of us so much, then why aren't you helping us?! If I don't die being accused of rebellion, then I'll die because of those stupid games because of you!"

"Don't blame me for this! It was your father's fault for being brash—" She reasoned, but I cut her off by pushing her off me. I stared at her as if she grew three heads. "They asked you," I whispered, "All you did was nod, you could've lied."

Her green eyes shook at my words, "Lie to the Peacekeepers? The Capitol? And get us killed as well?! I only what your father wanted," 

"They didn't have anything on father! It was your voice that gave it away! It's your fault that he's dead, now we're over here starving because you can't get over yourself—"

Then there was a sting on my cheek. She had slapped me. My eyes landed on a crying Kunal; guilt surged through me, so I ran. I ran to the woods and slept on top of a tree, humming a soft tune to the mockingjays next to me. They listened and sung back. I fell asleep to their lullaby, surprisingly, not falling off.

I found my hand on the same cheek my mother slapped that day. I was going to die the same way I said, how ironic. I won't be able to apologize or tell my mother I loved her anymore. A sigh left my lips as I continued to stare out the window. 

I clenched my fists, punching the wall as my breath hitched. I let out a groan, holding the stinging part of my hand. I glared at the wall, grumbling under my breath before I decided to fall asleep, not wanting to think of my regrets and what I could've done. As I closed my eyes, I only hoped my dreams would be pleasant. 

"Up! Up! Up! It's a big big day!"

Effie Trinket's voice awoke me from my dreamless slumber. I groaned, muttering profanities as she left my compartment. I tried to imagine what it was like in that stupid wig--- well--- head of hers, it made my head hurt.

I had fallen asleep in the green shirt, causing it to become wrinkled, the. Not that I cared, there will be some stylist stripping me anyways. I shuddered at the thought of Capitol people touching me, what a nightmare. My eyes landed on the packet of cookies on my bedside table. I decided to grab it.

I entered the dining compartment, still half-lidded and yawning. Effie Trinket brushes me with a cup of black coffee. She was muttering obscenities, probably because of Haymitch. Peeta held a roll, looking somewhat embarrassed  "Sit down! Sit down!" Haymitch said.

Peeta flashed me a smile, amused by how dishevelled I look. To be fair, I wasn't a morning person, I find waking up to be a tiring task. I rubbed my eyes, the packet of cookies still in my hands as I slid down the chair.

They served an enormous platter of food. I'd hate to admit it, but I was starving. So for the first time, I decided to stab it with the fork, not sure what to do with the cookies so I pocketed them. I figured I'd eat them much. . . much later.

I chewed slowly, glare on my face as my eyes struggled to remain open. I didn't even notice the orange juice next to me because of it. Peeta nudged me, handing me a cup of brown, rich liquid. It was quite warm. "They call it hot chocolate," he said. "It's quite good,"

My green eyes moved from him to the cup, then back to him. As if asking for permission. I sniffed, muttering a "thank you," before I took the cup from him. The moment the hot chocolate touched my lips I felt awake.

Not only was it hot, but it was also amazing. I've never tasted anything like this before. Coffee was a luxury, this I cannot even fathom. After I've drained my cup, I put it down and muster a sheepish smile. "Is there more?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

Effie seemed to be excited by my sudden interest. "Glad you're finally appreciating the finer things," she quipped as another cup was passed to me. "Right," I responded, gripping the cup tightly.

I stopped eating when I felt somewhat full, only asking for more hot chocolate. Peeta is still eating, breaking off bits of roll and dipping them in his hot chocolate.

Haymitch hasn’t paid much attention to his platter, but he’s knocking back a glass of red juice that he keeps thinning with a clear liquid from a bottle. Judging by the fumes, it’s some kind of spirit. I don’t know Haymitch, but I’ve seen him often enough in the Hob, tossing handfuls of money on the counter of the woman who sells white liquor. He’ll be a mess again by the time we reach the Capitol.

"So, you're supposed to give us advice," I said, taking a sip of the hot liquid. He grinned, "Here's some advice, stay alive," then he burst out laughing.

My brows furrowed, "Ha. Ha." I let out, unamused. I glanced to Peeta, surprised to see Hardness in his eyes. Usually, he looked mild. "That's very funny," he said as if adding to my remark. He suddenly lashed out at the glass in Haymitch's hands. It shattered, spilling the blood-red liquid on the floor. "Only not to us,"

Haymitch took this opportunity to punch Peeta straight in the jaw, knocking the boy out of his chair before turning around to reach for more spirits. I stopped him, driving a knife into the table, between his hand and the bottle, barely missing his fingers.

I expected some sort of retaliation, but that didn't come. "Oh, well what is this?" he said. "Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?"

Peeta rose from the floor and scoops up a handful of ice from under the fruit tureen. He started to raise it to the red mark on his jaw.

"No," Haymitch stopped him. "Let the bruise show. The audience will think you’ve mixed it up with another tribute before you’ve even made it to the arena."

"That’s against the rules," said Peeta. "Only if they catch you. That bruise will say you fought, you weren’t caught, even better," said Haymitch. He turns to me. “Can you hit anything other than the table?"

I shrugged, pulling the knife off the table. "Your head or. . ." I said, before tossing the knife in between the seams of two panels. If I was confident at one thing, it's my aim. But not so much with a bow.

"Stand over here. Both of you," ordered Haymitch, nodding to the middle of the room. We obey and he circles us, prodding us like animals at times, checking our muscles, examining our faces. “Well, you’re not entirely hopeless. Seem fit. And once the stylists get hold of you, you’ll be attractive enough.”

Peeta and I don’t question this. The Hunger Games aren’t a beauty contest, but the best-looking tributes always seem to pull more sponsors. Though I do enjoy the fact that the stylists are likely going to have a hard time styling me.

"All right, I’ll make a deal with you. You don’t interfere with my drinking, and I’ll stay sober enough to help you," said Haymitch. "But you have to do everything I say,"

Of course, there's a catch. "Fine," Peeta said while I shrugged carelessly, sipping on my hot chocolate. "In a few minutes, we’ll be pulling into the station. You’ll be put in the hands of your stylists. You’re not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don’t resist," Instructed Haymitch

Oh, well there goes my plan on being a general nuisance. Damn you, Haymitch.

He takes the bottle of spirits from the table and leaves the car. As the door swings shut behind him, the car goes dark. There are still a few lights inside, but outside it’s as if night has fallen again. I realize we must be in the tunnel that runs up through the mountains into the Capitol. The mountains form a natural barrier between the Capitol and the eastern districts. It is almost impossible to enter from the east except through the tunnels. This geographical advantage was a major factor in the districts losing the war that led to my being a tribute today. Since the rebels had to scale the mountains made them easy targets for the Capitol's air forces.

Peeta and I stood in silence. My finger raised, mouth opening but I decided it wasn't worth it and awkwardly shuffled to one of the windows. He seemed to have caught on, however. "Nice view, isn't it?" he joked.

"I guess if you're blind," I answered dryly, raising the warm cup to my lips. "Sophisticated darkness, my favourite type," I finished.

He chuckled, walking next to me, the train slowing on cue. My muscles tensed as the sunlight entered the compartment. It was blinding. After my eyes adjusted I finally saw the Capitol.

I would be lying if I said it wasn't beautiful. Rainbow hued buildings that tower to the sky, possibly beyond. Shiny cars rolling on the fancy, clean pavement streets. The cameras failed to capture its beauty. It would've been perfect if not for the fact that the oddly dressed colours, wearing blizzard wigs and painted faces exist.

They looked painfully artificial. I much prefer the natural tones of district 12. "Eugh, how do they look at themselves?" I muttered, catching the attention of Peeta, who chuckled at my comment.

Huh, I forgot that he was there.

The same disgusting people began to point at us, enthralled. I was sickened, they couldn't wait to watch us kill each other like wild wolves. I suppose that's better than ending up at soup.

I stepped back, a scowl on my face. No longer able to stand the obnoxious attires and the mocking smiles of scums. Peeta held his ground, smiling and waving at them.

He only stopped when the train stopped at the station, blocking up from their view. "Who knows?" he said. "Some of them may be rich."

My body seemed to freeze as I took one last sip of the now-luke warm hot chocolate. That's when I realized, I had misjudged him. Not that I can read people well.

Which made sense, if I could I would've known that his father visiting me, offering to help Haymitch only to challenge him and now, waving and smiling at those slugs. He had a plan in mind.

He hasn't accepted his death yet. Peeta Mellark, the boy who gave me bread was fighting hard.

And that terrified me.

word count: 2.8k

Hey guys! sorry for the long wait! Had to take a break!

tags;

@nin3s

[katnissmellarkkk]

I *DEMAND* part 3 of shattered pearl. I repeat. I *DEMAND*.

Hahahahaha omg. Well, I decided to legitimately dig through the archives of my writing drafts and found chapter three of the Peeta-Wasn’t-Hijacked fic. It’s been given like 1,000 different names on different sites. I’ve never loved any of them. And I don’t really think this is my best writing ngl. But I also figure ... why be so stingy, ya know? If I have an incomplete draft, that I probably won’t finish, why not post a little bit? Especially since I literally left everyone and their brother who were reading this fic on a cliffy for over a year.

With that said.... I wrote this part like ... 15 months ago? 14 ? 13 ? Something like that. And I haven’t edited it since so ... yeah! Here’s a small chunk of chapter three! 🥳🥳🥳 Hope it’s better than I remember it being!

But it’s lacking something and it’s only then I realize, what I’m searching for inside Gale’s mouth, is the spark that only Peeta’s ever ignited in me. I keep waiting in vain for the warmth that started in my stomach and then rose up and exploded in my chest, for the craving that no matter what I couldn’t manage to satisfy, for the thrilling, almost hysterical, tingly feeling, to overcome me and leave me lightheaded in a completely foreign way. A way that couldn’t be attributed to lack of oxygen.

But it never does. I pull back and wipe my mouth carelessly on my arm and sigh, already sensing Gale’s demeanor taking a nose dive at my lackluster reaction.

I’m not disappointed when I look to see his expression. His eyes are frustrated, his mouth is downturned, his eyebrows are pinched together. And I feel as bad as I knew I would. Because no matter what, I’m hurting someone I deeply care for.

But how I feel upon seeing Gale’s face isn’t even comparable to the amount of remorse that fills me, that overtakes my entire being, when I see Peeta standing in the doorway, having watched our entire exchange.

/

I yelled his name as he disappeared down the hall. I tried to rip out all the needles and wires connecting me to the machines and the stiff, sterilized bed but Gale used all his strength to push me down flat. I was overpowered and exhausted and my left side was screaming mercilessly, and I don’t even know what pain was the bruised lung and what pain was my hurt ribs and what pain was my heart violently smashing into the pit of my stomach.

All I know is that if I had been able to reach Peeta before he evaporated, I have no clue what I would have said to him.

What I could have said to make it alright.

Gale tried to talk to me again after that but I entirely tuned him out, no longer caring if I wounded his feelings, or anyone else's for that matter.

It seems like no matter what I do, no matter how careful or cautious or preemptive I try to be, someone still got hurt in the end.

I wish I could just shut out the world, like I did during those first few weeks in Thirteen. Hide inside closets when I had a flashback. Shove myself into a minuscule crawl space with every nightmare. Refuse to speak to anyone who wasn't Gale or my family. Only eat when my mother nearly forced me. Show no remorse for how rude or how clinically insane I came across.

But now there was an agreement in place, an agreement I made to protect the victors—namely the one who just disappeared down the hall on me—and the people who had no voice on their own. The people who’s only chance was a half-crazed, shell-shocked, battle worn seventeen year old girl, who was just gunned down on national television.

Even if I wanted to retreat to some safe haven inside my head—if such a thing even existed for me—like Annie Cresta, I knew it could never happen.

For me, that wasn’t an option. If I don’t fulfill my duties to Coin, Peeta, Johanna, Annie and probably countless more people will suffer. The districts would undoubtably suffer. Gale would suffer. My mother and Prim would suffer.

I was proven right when later that same night Plutarch came to visit me again. I'd been lying on my side to avoid having to see Gale, who was still soldered to my bedside. My good side was thankfully opposite his seat.

When the Gamemaker spoke I thought I would be forced back to work. Forced to head back to the rebels and engage in their plans.

And I was resigned to it, well aware all along that I wouldn't be given the luxury of time to grieve the hurt I just caused Peeta. Or even the pain I knew I was inflicting upon Gale. The constant seesaw my heart was bouncing up and down on.

I was endlessly thankful that I was still pumped with morphling when Plutarch said that I was needed in Coin's office, because it heavily suppressed any real emotion I had brewing deep inside.

Morphling can cause you to let down your guard sometimes, make you say or do things you wouldn't otherwise or allow things to happen you'd ordinarily have the sense to stop. But it also causes all your severe emotions, all your heightened feelings, to dull as well. And for that, in light of everything that had just transpired, I was eternally grateful for.

When the doctor had removed all the needles from my arm, and I had been given a robe to go over my hospital gown—which, shockingly, was even uglier and thinner and itchier than the gowns they gave in the Capitol hospitals—Gale escorts me down the halls, through the corridors and to President Coin’s office.

I don’t speak to him the entire time. Looking at him makes my stomach churn with remorse and regret, though I’m not even sure who those feelings are directed towards. I’m not even sure how to articulate the way I feel right now.

And, as much as I try to force him out of my mind—as much as I do my best to rip him out from wherever he crawled beneath my skin and flooded into my veins—I inexplicably miss Peeta.

In more ways than I even know how to decipher. Even inside my own head.

I thought that feeling of longing would have ebbed away once he was rescued from Snow and his twisted mansion, but even knowing he’s safe here in Thirteen, I still crave his presence next to me.

I still want him next to me almost all the time.

It’s at least partially attributable to the fact that for so long, it was me and Peeta against the world. He has been my partner in this whirlwind rollercoaster since the first games and, even when I feel like every single aspect that could potentially go wrong has, sometimes it seems like I couldn’t have gotten luckier with who was chosen that fateful reaping to stand by my side the entire horrific ride.

I wipe my eyes as inconspicuously as I can but Gale sees and almost instinctively puts his hand on my shoulder. And proves he knows me better than I give him credit for. “I’ll talk to him, Katniss.”

“Don’t,” I immediately hiss. “You’ll just make it worse, Gale. He-he,” I struggle with explaining what I want to say and I curse my best friend for even addressing my moment of weakness because now I have to go talk to Coin, looking like an unstable mess—with a near bullet wound—and I blurt out the very first thing I can think of. “He doesn’t even know you, okay? You’ll just-“

There’s no malice in Gale’s voice as he softly replies, “Well, he was fine when I went and saw him before you woke up.”

I stop now, dead in my tracks. “You saw him? After I was shot?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, I felt like should check on him. I know...” He pauses and looks upwards and I recognize, once again, this whole thing isn’t easy for him either. “I know he means a lot to you. And I heard what happened when he saw you go down. So I went and checked in on him...” He stops again before shrugging nonchalantly. “He was calmer by the time I saw him. He was nice. He’s always been nice.” At that Gale rolls his eyes. “Too nice. Probably why Snow wanted to hurt him.”

I start walking again, moving ahead of him a few paces. “You’re not helping,” I state, my voice a monotone.

“I’ll talk to him,” Gale offers again, running to catch up.

“Please don’t, okay? Just let it be. I don’t even know if he’ll speak to me, I don’t want to have to worry about what you’ll say to him.”

I vigorously shake off his hand on my shoulder when he tries to comfort me again, and feel him root into place as I make the rest of the way to Coin’s office.

And I wonder if I hurt him now too.

I wonder if I managed to completely annihilate them both from me in one night.

/

Much to my surprise and, to be completely honest, my utter disappointment, Coin doesn’t want me to head back out and fight for the rebellion. She doesn’t want me to even film more propos.

Plutarch does, but his ideas now are pretty frivolous and have more to do with him being still stuck in the fantasy of putting on a good show and less to do with fighting for the good of the country.

Coin simply says, “You did your job, Miss Everdeen. You united the districts,” in her calm, disingenuous—completely unsettling—tone.

And argument I put up is met with a simple shake of the head and a pursing of her lips. All indisputable rejections, her cold, blank eyes telling me wordlessly that in no way could I sway her once her mind was made up.

Still doesn’t stop me from trying though.

“I want to help the rebels,” I plead, looking to Boggs behind Coin’s chair, his face still stoic but his eyes giving me a look that isn’t altogether dismissive.

That was something. It was more than I was getting from either Coin or Plutarch.

Coin though brushes off my words and cuts me down infuriatingly quick with a single sentence. “Plutarch wanted to see Peeta earlier, talk about some propos. But when he sent for him, one of the doctors working with Peeta said he wasn’t having a good day.”

Her tone is smooth and pleasant enough but there was an undercurrent to her words that she knew I would hear. “Do you know how Peeta is? I would have thought with your waking up this morning, he’d be in better shape than he was but if you two aren’t getting-“

“Me and Peeta are fine,” I snap, not liking whatever she’s implying.

She nods, slowly at me, choosing her next sentiment carefully. “Well, let’s hope so. We need both of you now to remain the faces of this revolution. And I wouldn’t want you to do anything rash because of... problems between you and your... between you and Peeta.”

I’m shaking my head, feigning certainty, before she even finishes. “That’s not why I want to help the rebels,” I insist firmly.

“Irregardless, Miss Everdeen, we don’t have a job for you. You aren’t qualified to go into the fight and we no longer need your propos to unite the districts. Your job is done. Thank you for your help.”

And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I’m being definitively dismissed now. Indefinitely.

I don’t make any effort to keep my cool, instead choosing to storm out of the room, slamming the door cacophonously behind me and wonder why I let that woman get to me so much. Why her words and implications slice me open like a knife.

Why no matter how much I try, I just can’t like her.

Something about her rubs me the wrong way and, once again, I wish Peeta was here with me in the room, because he of all people could understand what about Coin felt off and strange and so familiar.

I curse myself again, as I suddenly miss him even more than before.

Unable to force myself to put my focus elsewhere—especially now that Gale is surely angry too—I change directions and head towards the recovery room.

I don’t even knock before entering. I push the door open, only to find him sitting on top of his bed, a sketchbook in hand, a lot more tranquil than I pictured.

He looks up as I enter—and then, simultaneously freeze in the doorway, like the coward I truly am inside. Before he can speak though, I blurt out, “I know you’re mad about me kissing Gale and I don’t know how much you saw or heard, but it wasn’t... it wasn’t exactly...” I stop because once again, I’m unprepared and out of my element and have no rhyme or reason in what I’m trying to say. I don’t know the right thing to say. I never know the right thing to say.

Maybe if I did, I wouldn’t screw always everything up. “It wasn’t,” I finally force myself to continue, off his patient and somewhat bewildered glance. “It wasn’t what I wanted... I didn’t want it to happen. I don’t, I don’t even know what-“

He finally puts me out of my misery now. “Katniss,” he speaks my name along with a sigh. I watch carefully, feeling a lump build in my throat, as his blonde brows furrow over his baby blues.

He shakes his head, slow and calm. Far more reasonable than I ever anticipated. “I’m not mad at you, Katniss,” he promises, with all the genuineness in the world.

I bite my lip, befuddled by his words. “But... where have you been then?” Why did you leave me? A small voice in the back of my mind demands.

He shrugs, his gaze falling down to his bed now. His demeanor is almost embarrassed, I realize with a start.

“I wanted to give you and Gale space. I’ve been practically mauling you since you woke up so I thought-“

“But I didn’t want you to leave,” I abruptly burst out, unable to shove the words down any longer.

A pang of embarrassment shoots through me though, for the pathetic crack, evident in my tone. And I mentally berate myself.

Not for the embarrassment. For the pathetic crack itself.

And for the fact that somehow I’m the frenzied one here and Peeta is the voice of reason.

Which used to be our norm but after everything that’s transpired, I would have thought things would be reversed by now.

He just stares at me for a long moment, carefully considering his next words.

Finally, he opens his arms slowly and utters, “Come here,” in a tender murmur and I practically fly into his arms before I can second guess the offer.

I feel my injured side screaming as I curl up like a ribbon in his arms, but I surpress the wince to the best of my ability and instead bury my face in his shoulder, breathing in his sweet scent like a mad girl.

He softly presses his lips to my messy locks, carefully massaging the back of my head soothingly. “I’m sorry I ran away,” he whispers, barely loud enough for even me to hear. “I was just embarrassed. I know—I’ve always known deep down—that it’s not right for me to constantly hold you to the things you said in the games. Or to project my own feelings onto you.”

“You didn’t,” I refute venomously, my brows knitting together.

“Katniss, I know you and Gale have had something between you for a long time.”

“Gale was just a friend until me and you came back from our first games. Maybe he wanted to be more even before, I don’t know, but I never felt anything romantic for him. I swear.”

“You don’t have to defend your feelings to me,” he states softly.

“I know, it’s just...” I sigh, moving to sit upright across his thighs. “No matter what I do, it’s wrong. If I say I’m confused, you’re both hurting. If I say I want to kiss you or sleep with you or just be with you, I’m leading you on because I can’t-I can’t make any promises about my feelings right now, because I don’t even know up from down anymore. And if I say I do or don’t want to kiss Gale or be around him or hunt with him still, I’m hurting him or giving him the wrong idea or telling him the wrong things, and it all gets confused and there’s an entire rebellion that I’m the face of, and now I don’t even know if I’m a part of that, but Snow and his followers all hate me still so I know family still won’t be safe until this is all over. And you. You and Johanna and Annie went through the ringer over me. And Gale gets upset whenever he sees us together—it hurts him to see us—but I can’t always seperate you two from one another and I just-I don’t know what I can do. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Peeta lets me rant the whole entire spiel out, his hand slowly moving in circles to rub my back, from the top of my spine down to my backside. “Katniss,” he whispers once I’m done. “You don’t have to defend yourself to me. I get it. You’re under immense pressure. The last thing I want to do is make things harder on you.”

“You’re not,” I say, shaking my head insistently. “You’re not making anything worse, Peeta. It’s-it’s not you.”

“Okay,” he concedes and unconsciously wraps me up tighter in his arms. “Just relax, okay? Relax and breathe.”

I quiver and quake against him. “I don’t think I can.”

I barely realize I’m crying until Peeta leans down to kiss my tearstained cheek softly. “Katniss, it’s okay. I’m not mad. And Gale shouldn’t be. If he is, then that’s on him. The rebellion isn’t just your responsibility. Do not let them put all that weight on your shoulders. I know they already have but it’s not all your responsibility. And no one is going to let anything happen to your mom or sister.” He pushes my hair away from my forehead, pressing his lips there for a long moment. “Or you. I promise I will not let anything else happen to you.”

I swallow hard as he rests his forehead against my temple. I squeeze my eyes shut in hopes that it will make my head stop spinning somehow. Deep breaths to center myself fail miserably and in the end, I feel my bruised ribs and lung disagree with the movement and ache worse than before.

Peeta feels me cringing against him in pain and remains careful as he shifts, reaching for something off his bedside table.

I’m in too much pain to react as pushes off my robe and tugs my hospital gown down in order to slide against my skin, his hand holding it firmly to my side.

The icy temperature brings some sort of relief to me almost instantly, and I let out an audible sigh of relief, feeling my rigid body relax even a minuscule amount for the first time.

“I don’t blame you for having feelings for Gale,” Peeta murmurs, drawing my attention back to our conversation and away from my painful left side. “And if you want to be with him, I won’t hold it against you. I’m not going to lie, I’d be ... sad but... it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be your friend. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be at jere for you however you needed me. There’s no ultimatums here, Katniss. I’m still here for you, even if you’d rather be with Gale.”

I pause for a long moment, absorbing his words. He’d be willing to be my friend, even if I hurt him? Even if I chose someone else over him? Even after everything we went through, even after all the ways he’d been abused because Snow could see how much I care for him? How much I need him. He’s still willing to put it all aside and be there for me, no strings attached.

And I try not to compare but my brain draws the conclusion almost involuntarily, and I can’t stop myself from realizing that, in the same position, Gale would likely not be telling me the same thing.

I burrow my face deeper in his shoulder, shutting my eyes in exhaustion.

Peeta catches me off-guard, moving my hair aside to kiss my neck, eliciting a flare of heat in the place where his lips brush my skin, and I may not know exactly how I feel, but I know in that moment exactly what I want right now.

“The only person I want to be with tonight is you,” I whisper honestly, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to somehow understand an emotion I don’t know how to admit. “The only person I want right now is you, Peeta.”