#i tried looking for the 'why now' post so i could link it but tumblr search function has defeated me :(
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what are some phancoded songs?
@fryday has covered this a ton recently, but some I doubt anyone else will say:
How Far This Can Go by Bowling for Soup. The chorus??
Letâs take it fast to slow Hold our breath and jump into whatever this is Grab a coat and let it all rain down If we never stop believing, itâs gonna be alright But if we donât try, we may never know How far this can go
It's very early days, but also every adventure they've had??? Like even as recent as resurrecting the gaming channel, if they hadn't taken the chance on doing that we might not be in the middle of whatever the phagenda is now. I also think about Dan being 18 and still not having coming to terms with his own sexuality, but still jumping into whatever was going to happen with Phil.
By the time the curtain's falling There'll be standing under and screaming out our names Canât you hear the future calling Will go all the way and never be the same, yeah
I mean. Self explanatory. Makes me cry to think about everything they've built. And I love the love the audience has for them. I can't think about it too long or I end up a pile of goo.
Come Monday by Jimmy Buffett. I grew up listening to this man, I've done a list of some favorites. But this one specifically gives me dnp vibes.
Come Monday, it'll be all right Come Monday, I'll be holding you tight I spent four lonely days in a brown L.A. haze And I just want you back by my side
Again, I think about them in the early days, hanging on every visit and always trying to get back to their bubble together. But also Dan on tour. I wish I could remember who it was that made a post about why now as far as a potential rebrand/launching so hard into joint content again, and the tldr was after wad, Dan coming back and and being like 'Okay. I've done it solo, and I've realized I don't want to do this without you.' And that's the same vibes I get with this song. Being away from each other sucks, and I just want you back by my side.
I can't help it, honey You're that much a part of me now Remember that night in Montana when We said there'd be no room for doubt?
You know. Their lives are so intertwined. Phil literally said our life. They own a house together. They have their own fucking language. They know each other so well. I've said it before but although I don't believe in soulmates, they are the exception to the rule. As for the second half... I mean. Early days. Jump in. See how far this can go.
I hope you're enjoyin' the scenery I know that it's pretty up there We can go hiking on Tuesday With you I'd walk anywhere
It's the idea that everything they've done for 15 years, and everything they will do, they'll do it together. In the sense of a joint endeavour, or just supporting one another in solo projects. Them doing shit they'd never normally do on their own, but they have their soulmate by their side so how bad could it be?
(This one is depressing so apologies in advance)
Haunted by Spanish Love Songs. Sort of a Phil perspective on Dan's struggle with depression.
You're not haunted You just miss everything You're not a cautionary tale So don't you vanish on me
And you're not haunted It's just the devil in your skin It'll be this bleak forever But it is a way to live You're not alone You just miss everything When you're feeling like a ghost Would you come haunt me? Please come haunt me
I'm not gonna say a lot here, but I know what it's like to love someone so fiercely and be heartbroken that they cannot see themselves for who they are. I've also been the person who can't see it. I think a lot about Phil always being there for Dan, and I'd love to hear him talk about the experience of love in those situations. (And if he never does I totally get it, it's private and it's not really our business. Just from a relatability standpoint.)
This is in the same vein but Washington Square Park by The Wonder Years, specifically this:
She said, âI let this slide when we were younger You know you donât have to write like this The whole worldâs full of losers If you get a chance to win, (you should) take it!â
Like. Phil always trying to get Dan in colors. Dan face down on the floor and Phil being there to pick him up and distract him. I love a love song as much as the next guy but this is my bread and butter.
To end on a happier-ish note, Love Will Keep Us Alive by The Eagles.
I was standing, all alone against the world outside You were searching for a place to hide Lost and lonely, now you've given me the will to survive When we're hungry, love will keep us alive
Early days??? Phil being the first person that made Dan feel safe??
Don't you worry Sometimes you've just got to let it ride The world is changing Right before your eyes
Coming out??? Meeting so many queer fans on tour and that being a push to come out themselves?? HELLO??
Now I've found you There's no more emptiness inside When we're hungry, love will keep us alive
I think about the state of things now, how fucking happy they've been since coming back. How different it feels from when they started. There's always been laughs, always been fun, but there is so much joy now. I'm sure I've said it but personally my heart feels so fucking full when I see how far they've come. When I see what they've built for themselves.
Anyway I could go on and on about songs that make me think about dnp, especially stuff that's not top 40's pop or is 30+ years old, but I think I've yapped enough on this particular post.
#i tried looking for the 'why now' post so i could link it but tumblr search function has defeated me :(#also may i hope it's okay i tagged you. i just couldn't not given the subject#also also this is nothing against top 40's pop! i just tend to listen to the same shit ive been listening to for 15 years#so i miss a lot of newer stuff#thank you anon for giving me the opportunity to yap about music i very much enjoyed this#anon#phan#music#ks chats#dan and phil#god ive got my tags all mixed up idk what im doing#if there are typos im sorry ive done my best
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Iâm fascinated about the oc stuff you mentioned! I only recently (within the last year) started creating ocâs so Iâve not really thought about creating images of them. I pretty much just save stock photos and photos of celebrities that resemble what Iâm imagining, but that can be a pain. Iâd love to hear more tips (as well as hearing about some of your ocâs if youâd like to share!)
A beloved mutual, hello!!
It's cool to hear that you're getting into oc stuff, making up little guys is so much fun! You'll have to tell me about yours sometime! I gotta admit though, saving stock and celebrity photos sounds like a hassle :/ I can't imagine what you'd do for a non-human ocâŚ
If you're interested, I have a ton of picrew links I can share (and obviously I can give you ones with more specific aesthetics if you have something in mind, versus just dumping a truckload of random links on you).
I also really like using Heroforge (D&D Minifugre website) to make ocs (D&D related or not). They update pretty regularly so there's always better options (especially for non-human ocs) and colors for more specific customizations. It's especially cool because if you decide you really like it, you can buy your oc as a minifigure (but you can still use the site/save your oc even without buying anything)! I love free websites :3
Lately, I've been focusing on my batch of Minecraft ocs. I was supposed to join a big rp server, but that fell apart so now I'm just 'writing' it all myself. It's been really fun, and I like being able to build an intricate story and characters from a pre-set template that comes with making ocs within a pre-existing world/ruleset (It's just much easier on my busy brain for when I'm not working on my actual original writing or whatever XP). But because of this, I've also been making full Minecraft skins for those ocs. It's pretty much just pixel art, and I am nowhere near the levels of some of the proffesional skin-makers out there, but I've made some pretty cool stuff if I do say so myself!
TL;DR I am not good at art, but my imagination is very hyperactive, so having some of these online resources has helped a ton in just getting something out into the world. I am more than happy to share site links and answer any questions you have about navigating them if you wanna dm me! I'd also loove to talk about all my ocs more, but I know that can be a lot for a tumblr askâŚespecially if tumblr keeps eating them >:(
Thanks for messaging me, hope this helped some!
(Also, sorry for the weird formatting of this post tumblr is being dumb and I can't fix it for some reason...)
#why do the paragraph breaks look like that and why can't I change their spacing tumblr please the readability#i got an ask!#anyone is free to dm me for links btw#I figure it's easier to dm since I'm sure people will want more specific links#I could just make a master-post with all the links but that seems like too much#maybe if enough people ask idk#also been thinkin bout just making oc posts like I do in my writers/rp discord#I have little oc intros with some picrews for visual purposes#but I also don't wanna be annoying and flood people's dashes with stuff they don't care about#hopefully that all makes sense and isn't too many words...#I tried not to go into too many details bc I was excited lol#also trying not to add too much extra info in the tags like I normally do#especially about my frustration with the minecraft skins#I have so much fun making them and they look so good when they're done#But I am colorblind and never tried pixel art before just jumping into skin making soooo yeah lol#but I'm rambling now oops :3#anyways!#no cute emojis like usual bc i'm on desktop sad#heroforge#picrew#oc stuff
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Scammers pretending to be Palestinian v6
(Scammers pretending to be Palestinian v6)
This guide is meant to inform you on some ways to differentiate legitimate fundraisers from those created by scammers who have been impersonating Palestinians for several months now. While originally I tried to list the scam blogs in these posts, Im just making this now a general overall method to spot scams.
Disclaimer: This guide is not to say all Palestine based asks are from bots or a scammer. Rather, it is meant to explain the reasoning why something is legitimate or not. Do not use this guide as an excuse to claim every single Palestine fundraiser is a scam.
TL;DR: In the span of you saying someoneâs bot, you could be using tumblr search instead of telling me your reporting every ask you get as a scam without looking at the account.
One of the first things to keep in mind is that most asks you get will come from accounts who check the notes of a post. Meaning they saw you and decided to send you the ask or DM to share their fundraising post. This is not bot behavior and often is done by those is unfortunate situations that desperately need funding and as a result is a common occurrence across the internet. If this bothers you, it is suggested to turn off your askbox or limit DMs to mutuals instead of the posting in the scam tag that every ask you get is from a scammer when itâs a gfm account that has been vetted by a well known blog that may even be on a list of verified fundraisers if you bothered to look it up.
Secondly, while originally a non-gfm fundraiser may have been suspicious (such as PayPal or gogetfunding) it has since been decided and clarified that such fundraisers are now used when a gfm is shut down unexpectedly and the original creator informs the donors that they will need to resend it their support to a new fundraiser. If you do not see any mention of a previous gfm in a PayPal/gogetfunding post there is a possibility that searching parts of the post may show that the content is from someone else and the source may still be active with no mention of tumblr itself indicating the tumblr post is impersonating the real gfm.
Thirdly, due to language barriers legitimate accounts may use asks from other vetted fundraiser blogs with only minor edits. While this isnât something Iâd suggest doing, itâs understandable the situation unfortunately relies on copying someone elseâs words to ask for support. However, please donât reuse the post content unless you were given permission or are related to the original fundraiser such as being a family member. Images may be borrowed from other accounts, though they may be stolen from offsite places. This is not full proof of a scam, as itâs suggested to search around for proof of who originally posted the images. Please understand not everyone is natively an English speaker and Google translate isnât always accurate. Some may reuse someone elseâs posts unaware that itâs suspicious behavior.
Fourthly, most scam accounts have reused a certain style of ask often mentioning needing insulin (Humalog) for a relative, having nose freezes due to asthma, being down to their last pen and asking for ânt muchâ, or referring to their family being in the ruins of a church. The frequency of these asks is so common searching them in tumblr search should bring up plenty of posts. Additionally, the names used by these accounts generally appear across multiple blogs that have been seen running different kinds of scams later on. A majority of their posts are almost always stolen off a real fundraiser they donât link to.
Fifthly, in regards to verification it is very easy to search a username and see who vetted an account. Scammers will often say theyâre verified but donât list who or even paste a username that has never existed at all when you go to check. If asked about it, they generally will opt to block you without responding. There are people who will take time out of their day to ensure someoneâs legitimate just be patient.
Lastly, donât just assume every Palestinian gfm is a scam and stop acting like sharing a scam is fine because you donât want to accidentally ignore someone in need. If you regularly see the posts from legitimate blogs and share them you would eventually be able to tell the day old private PayPal account asking for insulin funds is suspiciously asking for a low amount of funds compared to everyone else.
If Iâve missed anything, please let me know.
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Unraveling Plan Meet Immeasurable Insecurity (Astarion x GN!Tav)
Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav
Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here
Rating: Teen
Summary: Tav tries their damnedest to propose, only to be rebuffed by Astarion at every single turn.
Tags: Astarion POV - alternating w/Rogue!Tav, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Spawn Astarion, Post-Canon, Marriage Proposal, Mild Hurt/Comfort, insecurities
A/N: based on a request from a kind anon on Tumblrâ "Would you ever consider writing a one-shot where Tav tries to propose to Astarion but keeps failing multiple times. But Tav doesnât give up and raises the stakes higher and higher. Astarion will completely remain oblivious because he still has some self esteem issues (why would anyone want to marry him?) and is really confused why Tav is acting nervous around him."
I ended up taking it in a slightly different direction (based on the manâs self esteem issues as you pointed out, anon). Set an undetermined amount of years post BG3, post saving Karlach from Zariel, post-Laeâzel finishing the githyanki uprising so the gang's all here. I hope the kind anon still enjoys it!
Word count: ~5.6k
Astarion first has an inkling that something is the matter when you sneak away from him.
Odd, he thinks, watching your retreating back. Usually they invite me along for this sort of skulking about.
But he understands, better than most, what a bit of privacy could afford someone who hasnât had any in so long. So he watches you leave, pretending all the while that he hasnât noticed a thing. Best not embarrass them, of course.
He brushes off the incident as an anomalyâ after all, you continue to be your usual self upon your return. Neither of you speak of your absence, and you seem rather pleased with yourself, so he is pleased for you.
The next time he notices something is off he grows a tad more worried.
This time you donât disappear, but you do spend a concerning amount of time staring at his hands, expression pensive.
âDarling,â he starts. He quickly tucks his hands under the Elfsong table that you both sit at and leans forward. âWhat are you doing?â
You blanch at the questionâ an uncharacteristic reaction to be sure. âOh,â you sound startled, as if youâve been caught doing something quite naughty. âNothing at all. Just wondering if youâd done anything new with your nails? They look⌠nice.â
Itâs a lie, that much is clear to Astarion. But itâs not typical that you lie so poorly. And why should you lie? No matter, you look flustered and gods does he love it when you look flusteredâ it happens so rarely that he feels the need to truly relish it. âDonât they?â he asks, flourishing his hands in front of you now. âHow did you know? I dipped them in an essence of ooze to thoroughly moisturize them.â
âReally?â Your bewilderment almost brings a laugh out of him.
âGods no, my dear,â he says, reaching out from under the table and for your hands. âYou seem quite out of sorts. Are you alright?â
âIâm fine,â you dismiss, staunchly avoiding eye contact with him.
Odd, he thinks again. Where is their usual daring now?
Heâs forced to dismiss the thought as you flag down a waitress, ordering yourselves another bottle of wine.
Astarion becomes genuinely concerned when you return home late one night.
The two of you have grown comfortable together in your house, just on the outskirts of Baldurâs Gate, in a cozy corner of Rivington. The location allows you to continue your work with the guild, gives him plentiful access to any criminals that needed exsanguinating, and your former companions are never far.
It does mean that you will sometimes stay late in the city, working well into the sunlight hoursâ but you also know to send him a message on the days you stay out late. Otherwise your poor, beautiful vampire will waste away in worry.
âWhere in the nine hells are they?â Astarion curses aloud on this particular dawning day. Heâd tried sending a message to you, only to receive nothing back. Heâd sent another to Shadowheart, again to silence. He considers trying someone less responsible like Karlach, when you finally burst through the front door.
âOh! Astarion,â you say, surprise plain on your face. As if he wouldnât be here, in your shared home no less, waiting for your arrival. âWhat are you still doing up?â
He watches you silently for a moment as you tuck something behind your back, straighten out uncomfortably. Then, with all of the annoyance he can muster, he rolls his eyes at you. âItâs lovely to see you too, my dear. Itâs not as if I was worrying my gorgeous head off at the thought of you dead in some rank Baldurian gutter.â
âIâm sorry,â you say, shuffling around the room in a rather suspicious manner. âI lost track of time. I figured you would go to bed without me.â
Astarion canât remember the last time he went to bed without at least knowing where you were. Even if he could, he suspects he really would rather not. âDarling, you know I need my warm-blooded lover by my side to enter my reverie. Besides, what could have possibly taken you so long?â
You hesitate, and something tugs at Astarionâs insides. He feels a sudden sense of fear, a dread that he may regret asking you this question.Â
What if youâre upset at him, and this was your way to maintain space? What if youâve finally, rationally taken a look at your situation and determined that no, youâd really rather not love a monster like himself? Or worse, what if youâd found someone else, someone who could bask in the daylight alongside you? Gods, the idea sends his undead heart plummeting.
Just as youâre about to open your mouth to answer, he rescinds his question, âNevermind. I donât want to know. I merely wanted to make sure you were alive. Youâre looking as sprightly as ever, so I shall head to bed.â
He doesnât wait for your response, heading to bed in a dramatic swirl and even more sensational thoughts.Â
Heâs right, he knows it to his core. Youâve found someone else, someone who can give you the life he never could. More than anything he wishes he had the courage to confront you, especially as all of your odd behavior clicks into place.
They snuck off to find a lover.
They were staring at my hands in the hopes that they were someone elseâs.
They stayed out late to relish in anotherâs company.
Theyâre aloof because theyâre leaving me and itâs all a matter of time.
Itâs as plain as day. How could he have been so very, very blind?
__
You had concocted a nice, simple plan.
It involved a ring, a smattering of your closest friends, and a particularly prickly vampire. Ideally, the plan ended with the vampire agreeing to marry you.
Gods. The idea thrills you as much as it scares you: you are actually going to propose to Astarion.
After years together, you and Astarion are practically already married. This is merely a formality in your mind. But of course, for a man like Astarion, it's a formality that means only the utmost effort must be put in.
But, as it always goes in your life, your nice, simple fell apart.
The problem you're finding is that, after weeks of preparation and secretive planning, the man is being oddly distant. Distant and dismissive. It's almost as if he knows something is afoot, and he's utterly determined to make sure it doesn't happen.
Five times now he has thwarted your attempts at a proposal.
"Astarion," you had started the first time. "Would you like to take a walk in the park with me tonight?â
The look heâd given you was equal parts wary and panicked. So much so that you thought maybe youâd misspoken. But his response was measured enough. âNo, thank you, darling. Iâm afraid Iâm quite spent today.â He gave you a yawn to illustrate his point, and you dropped the subject for the night.
You had had to send a message to Shadowheart to call off the trail of poisonous flowers that your friends were laying out for your stroll.
The next time, you had tried being a bit more casual in your attempt.
âWould you enjoy a day at the spa, Astarion?â
Again, he gave you a look that confused you. Frightened face, hackles raisedâ his only response was, âWhy, darling, do I look that ghastly to you?â
âYou know thatâs not what Iââ
âNo matter,â heâd waved you off. âI am afraid Iâm busy today.â
Youâd sent a message to Karlach, telling her that the reservation of Baldurâs Gateâs spa was no longer needed.
The third time, youâd called in some more magical help.
âAstarion, what do you say to a moonlit picnic atop the roof of the Elfsong? We havenât had one in a while.â
Appalledâ utterly and truly aghast is the only way to describe the face heâd made. The words that followed didn't make you feel better either. âAnd why would we do that again after such a long while?â
Your stomach had roiled, worry settling in at his tone. âI thought it would be a chance to reminisce together.â Your tone stayed light, your smile just as friendly.
âItâs far too cold to bother with reminiscing,â heâd said, glowering at you. Looking at the hard set of his jaw, this is when youâd begun to worry that youâd done something to upset him.
âIs everything alright?â youâd asked, reaching out for his arm.
âItâs fine,â heâd replied, curtly, retreating from your grasp. âI just donât want to be colder than I already am.â
Youâd sent a message to Gale, instructing him to call off the magical skywriting over the Elfsong.
For your fourth attempt, you knew you needed someone with a slightly more forceful personalityâ and to perhaps lean a little less romantic.
âAstarion,â youâd begun, inflecting your tone with just the right amount of panic. âLaeâzelâs found a flock of mephits along the beach of Wyrmâs Crossing. She needs our help.â
âMephits?â heâd asked, looking at you cautiously. âIn Wyrmâs Crossing?â
âYes,â youâd replied, nodding hurriedly. âWe need to go now.â
Heâd clicked his tongue at you and shaken his head. âAs if Laeâzel couldnât crush them all with a single swing. Seems to me like sheâs grown lazy after all of her heroics.â
âAstarion,â youâd chided. âYou know she will incredibly cross at us if she finds out you declined to help.â
âIâll survive,â heâd said, returning to the book on his lap, hands turning paler than usual in a tense vice grip. âProbably.â
After, youâd sent a message to Laeâzel, instructing her to do as she pleased with the stash of fireworks on the beach.
The fifth time youâd grown genuinely, truly worried that something was wrong with Astarion because, by the gods, the man had refused to commit crime with you.
After so many failed attempts, youâd figured that you needed to go back to the roots of your relationshipâ to a simpler time when petty theft gave you some time alone together.
âI heard a rumor through the guild,â youâd said offhandedly over dinner. âA newly minted noble in the Upper City has quite the horde of wealth and very little security. What do you say that we pay them a visit, perhaps ârelieveâ them of some of their wealth?â
Astarion had faltered, clearly tempted by your offer. But after nearly two weeks of avoiding going anywhere with you, he didnât outright agree either. âAnd why would you need me for this particular job?â
The question had taken you aback. Youâd never needed a reason to invite him along for crime of all things. It made you near certain that he knew what you were up to and that something about it was distasteful to him. Sweet hells, it made you nervous. âI, erm⌠well, I could use an extra pair of hands to carry it all, I suppose?â
âI could lend you my pack then,â heâd said, narrowing his eyes at you.
Why is he trying to avoid me? Have his feelings changed? youâd thought in fear. Aloud, youâd only doubled down. âWell, the company might be nice. And you know that your lockpicking is, somehow, better than mine.â
âI thought you said security was sparse,â heâd countered.
âSparse doesnât mean nonexistent.â
âNot much of a challenge then, is it?â
You had wanted to scream into the astral plane. Wanted to flip the table over his pretty pale face. Wanted to tell him, âYou know what, I didnât want to marry such a stubborn vampire anyway!â â but you did none of those things. Because you love this man and, even when heâs being difficult, you do want to marry him.
So you had gritted your teeth and said, âVery well then. I shall borrow your pack.â
Youâd sent a message to Wyll later to call off his fatherâs help with the upper city guards.
For your sixth attempt, you decide you first need to reconvene with your councilâ also known as your former companions.Â
When youâd first met with them at the start of this whole ordeal, youâd snuck away from Astarion. It made you feel a bit guilty, sneaking around, hiding things from him, but the entire proposal was meant to be a fun surpriseâ one you are starting to suspect is a misguided effort.Â
You profess as much aloud now that youâre meeting up with the five of them again, seated around the table in Jaheiraâs kitchen. âMaybe there is no sixth attempt. Maybe Iâve overestimated the love between us.â
âDonât say that,â Wyll says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly in reassurance. âYour love is strong. And together we will find a way to make this proposal work.â
You smile up at the man, one always so willing to believe in the power of a good love story. Youâre almost sorry to be disappointing himâ and the smut peddlers. Really, youâre sorry to be disappointing all of your friends. Each of your companions had been eager to help you in your endeavor, in their own ways, of course.
Gale had congratulated you prematurely at first, misunderstanding your Sending spell. But when youâd clarified, asked him for his help, heâd only been incredibly enthused, arriving the very next day, offering all manner of suggestions.
Karlach, for her part, was only ever excited, practically bouncing off the walls that two of her best mates may potentially tie the knot. At the low, low price of allowing her to be your person of honor, she was entirely at your disposal.
Laeâzel had been confused initially. In her mind, you were already committed to a life together. What was the purpose of this⌠proposal? Of marriage? But when youâd explained to her a bit, sheâd been curiousâ and excited at the potential of catching Astarion off guard.
Shadowheart had seemed surprised when youâd asked. You werenât already married? Alas, sheâd gotten the plot of one of the many bawdy novels about you confused with real life. No matter, she was happy to help.
And, well, Wyllâ when he returned from Avernus heâd been disappointed that you werenât at the very least engaged yet. It was no shock or awe to him when you visited him for help. In fact, he had only given you a wry smile and said, âI knew you would be the one to cave.â
As for Jaheira, well, she was allowing you to use her house as a headquarters, but had proclaimed early, âInvite me to the wedding and I shall be there, but until thenâ well, this is for you lot to figure out.â
And gods were you having trouble figuring it out.
âI donât know, Wyll. Iâm worried Astarion may never revert back to normal at this rate,â you say, shaking your head.
âWas he ever normal?â Shadowheart asks with a soft snort. âBesides, he can be awfully dense at times, you may just need to ask him outright.â
âThere is not a single realm in which Astarion says yes to a simple proposal,â you say, brows furrowing. âYou know heâd want something flashy.â
Gale raises a finger sagely before countering, âWell, my friend, sometimes what we want and what we need are two different things. Iâm inclined to agree that you may just need to pop the question.â
âWhat ifâŚâ you trail off, your worries from the past weeks bogging down your thoughts. Somehow, despite everything youâve been through, this seems to be your toughest challenge yet. âDo you think he knows what Iâm doing and is simply too afraid to reject me?â you ask the group, turning to each of them with pleading eyes. Youâre honestly not sure you can take his rejection, especially after the last five rebuffs.
âNot a chance in the hells,â Karlach answers. âI think heâs being a right idiot, actually. And if he knew what was happening, he may even say yes before you can so much as get the question out.â
âReally?â Your mood lightens a bit, her harsh words slashing through the hardened doubts that have settled over your heart.Â
âIs it any surprise to us that Astarion is incapable of seeing the truth before him?â Laeâzel says, rolling her eyes. âSuch sharp skills, yet completely dull in the face of our efforts.â
âAgain, we may just need a softer touch,â Shadowheart suggests, tilting her head at you.
Youâre not sure what a softer touch might be, and, from the silence that follows, neither are any of your companions.
Your resident wizard is the first to break the silence. âI could always create a simulacraââ
âGale,â Wyll interjects, politely. âIâm afraid I donât think thatâs much softer.â
âRight,â Gale says, leaning back in his seat.
Another long moment of silence and youâre truly starting to feel defeated. You hang your head a bit, thoughts filled with the image of a certain beautiful, pale elfâs mouth curling at you in distaste, forming a pronounced âno.â
âSoldier,â Karlach starts. You look up to see her smirking at you. âIf he wonât willingly join you anywhere. I think we both know what you need to do.â
â
They are going to sink the final nail in the metaphorical coffin.
For nearly two weeks now, Astarion has successfully avoided his loverâs attempts to get together in a public spaceâ likely what they saw was the best, most civil way to dispose of him. But, foolish as it is to cling to something like a withered love, Astarion doesnât want this relationship to end.
Perhaps, if I can do this for long enough, they will change their mind, he thinks. Gods, that sounds pathetic, even for him.
Astarion was running out of excuses, and, worse yet, running out of willpower. What is the use in fighting the inevitable? he thinks, as he walks down the streets of Baldurâs Gate. Itâs a moonlit night, and heâs on the prowl for a criminal to biteâ he needs something, anything to distract him from his woes.
He turns the corner, on high alert.
Then again, a more selfish part of him counters. Why shouldn't you fight for your love? They were the first good thing to ever happen to you in this damned world.
Thatâs when he spots themâ the-first-good-thing-to-ever-happen-to-him is hiding behind a bush directly before him, facing another alleyway. There are very few reasons that they would be out at this time of night, in the middle of this particular street of Baldurâs Gate. While they could be on a mission for the guild, he had last seen them at home, reading by the fire. Itâs clear that they followed him, are waiting to ambush him.
Is this it? he thinks, eyes narrowing. His chest hurts, more than ought to be possible given his lack of beating heart. Is this how desperate they are to be rid of me? May as well go out with flair, I supposeâŚ
Astarion sneaks forward, careful to remain outside of your field of view. He settles behind you in the darkness of the bush, watching you as you look out for him. Despite the ache in his heart, the clenching of his stomach, he canât help but think of how lovely you look under the moonlightâ of how lucky he has been to have had you.
If this truly is it, he thinks. I canât wallow or cry. I shall hold my head high and consider myself fortunate to have met them. To have loved them. At least, he hopes heâs capable of such a performance. Because right now, quietly crouched next to you, he wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to beg you to reconsider.
But no. He refuses to look patheticâ not after the life he has lived.
So, after waiting with you for a few minutes, he leans forward into your personal space and asks, âDarling, what are you doing?â
Astarion is ready for your instincts to kick in, so when your knife is drawn in a flash and youâre lunging for him, heâs easily dodging backward, holding his hands up in peace. âNow, now darling, I thought we were past the knives at throats.â
âAstarion?â you ask, startled. âSweet hells, you havenât snuck up on me like that in years.â
âYes, well,â he says, avoiding your eyes now. Heâs surprised by how much gazing into them has weakened his composure already. âYou also havenât looked so utterly distracted by your own thoughts in years either.â
âWhat are you doing here?â you ask, ignoring his words. âI thoughtâŚâ
Yes, dear, what did you think? he wants to ask, to catch you in the act with a cruel moment of revelation, to hurt you as much as youâre about to hurt him. But when he brings his eyes back to yours, he knows he canât do that. While heâs still capable of maiming, killing, all manner of atrocitiesâ he cannot hurt you. So he only says, âI was out hunting and I saw you hiding in a bush. What are you doing here?â
âIââ you falter, seemingly torn. Perhaps youâre having second thoughts. Perhaps this is his chance to keep you from breaking his cold, crumbling heart.
âDo you need assistance, dear?â he asks, ready and willing to show how much he would do for you. Anything, honestly, if it means youâll stay by his side.
âGods, I keep mucking this all up,â you mutter, head hanging in uncharacteristic defeat. âMaybe Shadowheart was right.â
What did that damned cleric do now? Is she the one youâre leaving him for? Heâs about to make a reflexive, snide comment about her veritable barnyard of animals, but stops when he sees you sheath your blade. When you wipe a hand over your face in frustration.
Oh. Youâre miserable. You wouldnât look like this normally. You would never be this nervous, this stressed to see himâ not unless his very presence had turned toxic. âI should go, shouldnât I?â he asks, throat tight.
âNo!â you say, reaching out a hand to keep him from leaving. Your grip is tight, painful in its panic, but he doesnât complain. How could he when you look like this?Â
More than anything, he wants this worry that lines your face to fade, the jittery movement of your hands to abate. So maybe itâs up to him to spark the beginning of the end⌠âDid you⌠have something you wanted to tell me?â he asks, swallowing down the fear that threatens to overwhelm him.
âIâŚâ you gulp, bringing your second hand to join the first, loosening your grip. You raise your head, and he sees the tumult in your gaze. At the very least, you must care about him somewhat to stress yourself this much. âAstarion, please donât be upset.â
How could he not? But, somehow, he manages a sad smile at you anyway. âAs if I could ever be upset with you, my love.â
Then you drop to a knee in front of him.
âÂ
âAstarion,â you say, voice shaking a bit with nerves. âI had wanted this to be something lovely. Something meaningful. But⌠I guess you love ruining plans, donât you?â
âWhat,â he breathes out, confusion plain on his face. His red eyes dart between yours, as if trying to process a sudden, large shift. You suppose it would be a shift in your relationship, even if you were practically married already. If he even decided to say yes.
You release his arm with one hand, reaching into your side pouch for the small square box thatâs waiting for you. Fingers less dexterous than usual, you fumble over clutching it, opening it single handedly. Youâre not used to looking this foolish, and you can feel a heat over your cheeks, an anxious shake to your movements.
But before too long the box is open, a shining platinum band resting inside.
It looks like everything youâd hoped for in the momentâ its inlaid red rubies catch the moonlight just beautifully. Youâd spent weeks agonizing, wondering if you had picked the right one, imagining what it might look like were it to be placed on his perfect pale finger. Here and now, with this man standing before you, you know it would look exquisite.
âAstarion,â you start again, courage returning to you with that knowledge, some of the words youâd prepared coming back to your mind. âThese past years together have been the best years of my life. Youâre my best friend, my dual blade, and I love you more than I can even say. I donât know what our future holds, but I would consider myself lucky to walk towards it with you at my side. SoâŚâ You pull the ring from the box, holding it up to the man you love with a smile. âWould you, Astarion AncunĂn, do me the honor of marrying me?â
Astarion AncunĂn, despite years of quick quips and sultry words, seems to be frozen in place, unable to speak.
Youâre used to these moments, when he needs to process, but youâre not used to them when youâre on one knee, waiting for a response. âAstarion?â you hazard.
âYouâreâŚâ he says, face slack, mouth barely moving. âYouâre proposing to me?â
Itâs not a no, but itâs certainly not the reaction youâd be hoping for. âErm, yes. Is that⌠distasteful to you?â You can feel your hand recoil somewhat, your smile slip.
His expression remains blank, lips slightly agape as he continues to take in the scene before him. âYouâ you donât have a new lover? Youâre not planning to leave me?â
âWhat?â Now itâs your turn to be flabbergasted. âAstarion, what are you talking about?â
The sigh that leaves him then could collapse a small house. âSweet hells,â he says, face and body relaxing. âI thought⌠I thought that you were acting odd, likeâ likeââ
âLike I was trying to surprise you with the magnificent proposal you deserve?â you respond, suddenly understanding his behavior and growing a smidge annoyed. âLike I didnât want to propose to you behind some damned bushes?â
Astarion looks around, as if just now realizing where you are, what is happening. âYes, now that you mention it, like that.â
You want to be upset, but then the man above you laughs. Itâs light, breathy, and utterly relieved. âYou were really worried, werenât you?â
âOh my sweet love, I was about ready to jump into an Oubliette,â he says, shaking his head ruefully.
âYou thought I would leave you, just like that?â you ask, brows furrowing in concern. Maybe you should have just proposed in your living room.
âI wouldnât blame you,â he says, looking down at you with a tinge of sadness in his smile. âI doubt that this was the life you were looking for, darling. As a matter of fact, are you⌠sure about this?â He eyes the ring in your hand, all but forgotten in his confusion.
You proffer it again, raising your hand a bit higher this time. âThe only life Iâm looking for is the one with you in it, Astarion. I am quite sure.â
His scarlet eyes dart between yours questioningly, and you merely stare back, staunch in your words and intent. âEven if Iâm a fool that forced your handâ left you kneeling in the dirt?â
âWeâve done worse things on dirt, Astarion,â you say, smiling widening at the memory of the first time heâd told you he loved you. âIf youâd like me to get out of the dirt though, you could answer my question: Would you marry me?â
__
Once more, he looks between your eyes, this time his are wide, openâ daring to believe that his darkest fears are just that. Fears. Ones that you would vanquish without a second thought. How could he have been so blind to that. Moisture pools at the corner of his eyes at the realization.
So he drops to his knees, reaching for your face with his hands. In a single movement, heâs pulled you toward him, captured your lips with his with an undeniable longing. A longing to hold you in his hands for as long as he is able. A longing to taste your lips on his, each and every day. A longing to never be without you, to be yours until death do you part.
You respond to his kiss in kind, lips pressing against him with your own pent up longing. He distantly hears the ringâs box fall to the floor, feels your hand brush past his ear to clutch his hair. You kiss him like heâs the answer to every question youâve ever had and he feels a small tear run down his face as his eyes squeeze tightly shut.
Gods he would never tire of kissing you.
I ought to respond, he thinks in the back of his head, as he moves his lips against yours.
Is this not response enough? he argues, not wanting to break apart from you, for even a moment.
No, it wouldnât do to have any confusion, not after the past two weeks.
So, before he can forget himself, he pulls back from you, far enough to look into your eyes. âThat was a âyesâ in case that wasnât evident.â
You laugh, short and breathless. âOh good,â you say, leaning back further and bringing up the ring between you. âThen may I?â
Astarion removes his left hand from your face, holds it out to you with a large, gleeful smile. âYou may.â
You slip the ring onto his finger. It fits well, matches his eyes, looks positively sumptuousâ as always, you know him too well. âItâs stunning,â he says, angling it one way then another.
âIâm glad you like it,â you say, smiling at the sight. âAnd that you didnât catch me when I tried to sneak it past you.â
The vampire laughs, shaking his head free of his own silly thoughts. âI smashed your plans into tiny little pieces, didnât I?â
You donât say yes, but the look on your face is evidence enough. âIâll tell you all about what you missed out on later. For now, we should, erm, go get our friends.â
âGo get our friends?â he asks, wondering what in the hells they have to do with all of this.
âYes,â you say, planting a kiss on his hand before moving to get up. âTheyâre all in place for another one of these ill fated plans.â
âAh,â he says, following you up. Then, realizing what youâve said, he looks at you with concern. âJust what were you in this bush for?â
To your credit, you look abashed. But your words do nothing to lessen his concern. âSeeing as you were refusing to come with me, well, anywhere, we had to pivot our strategy.â
âDarling,â he starts, his tone a deceptive sweetness. âWhatever does that mean?â
âIt was Karlachâs plan,â you say, as a means of explanation.
âOh good. Iâm sure whatever it was was perfectly sane then.â
Scratching at the back of your neck, you finally admit the plan, âI was going to give them a signal when you passed. Gale was going to make an illusory double of me getting kidnapped by the rest of them in disguise, then hopefully you would take chase to go save me, they would lose you just as you got to the Elfsong where I would be waitingâŚâ
Astarion looks at you sharply, his mouth a disapproving line. âReally?â
âIn retrospect, I can see the flaws in the plan,â you say, palms open. âBut in my defense, I was getting desperate. Either way, we ought to go get them. Karlach seemed just about ready to explode from hiding that long.â
âFine,â he says reluctantly. âThis is what we get for having such imbeciles for friends.â
âFunny,â you start, holding out a hand to him. âThey said the same about you.â
He takes your hand with an exaggerated eye roll, but canât help the smile that comes over his face at the feeling of your fingers twining with his. âItâs a shame you had to resort to them for help.â
âI really needed it. You know, I have killed more people than I can count, but you have been my most challenging mark by far,â you say, dramatically as you begin to walk down the alleyway.
âWorse than the giant, world-ending brain?â
âOh yes.â
The two of you walk in silence for a few steps before Astarion feels compelled to say one last thing before reaching your friends. âDarling, I truly am sorry I ruined all of your plans, but I must ask: Please donât try to surprise me like this again.â
The expression on your face deflates a little, and you say, âI thought you would like something grand?â
He brings your hand up to his lips for a soft, reassuring peck. âNormally, yes. But, I love you so very much. Iâm afraid it clouds my usually impeccable judgment.â
You donât comment on his judgment, instead focusing on his proclamation of love. âI love you too. So, hopefully, there isnât a second proposal.â
âOne can only hope,â Astarion says with a laugh. âAnd, if there is, perhaps itâs my turn to do the proposing?â
âLove, if you surprise me, I may kill you,â you say, plainly.
âA risk Iâve always been willing to take, my dear,â the man replies, pulling on your hand. âNow, come. I think I can spot Wyllâs peeking eye from here.â
Hand-in-hand, the two of you walk toward your waiting friends, ready to tell them the good news.
It wasnât the grand proposal you had envisioned. Nor was it even a particularly romantic one. But, somehow, it was still perfect, still loving, still the beautiful new beginning to the rest of your lives together.
#astarion#astarion x tav#fanfic#rogue + rogue#astarion x reader#astarion fluff#astarion fic#love at first knife#tadfools tomfoolery#astarion fanfic#astarion x gn reader#astarion x gn!tav#baldurs gate astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion pov#astarion is bad at feelings#proposal fic
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hii i just wanted to ask about the accuracy of the statement of "Talia abducted Jason during when he was arguably at his most vulnerable cuz catatonic and took advantage of his state (+no Bats knowing Jason came back to life) to indebt him to her and a cult + groom him to be a tool for whatever goal she had in mind" or if it's fanon and your opinions on this idea (+ actual canon if this statement is in fact fanon)
but just like how we play with the scale of good parent, bad parent Bruce we could also fuck around and do so much with this concept (fanon or not)
Hi! I'm not as familiar with this, so let's do the research together ^^ It's gonna be a long post!
I've heard many many many people curse out a few writers (I'm shitty at remembering names) for being a racist pieces of shit. I've also heard of Talia being thrown under the bus by a lot of writers. Here's a link to a wonderful Tumblr post that goes into Talia and how writers fucked over her character.
There's other posts, but this one quickly summaries what they did to Talia and briefly mentions the assassination of Ra's character as well.
Here's a post that goes further into Ra's character.
On that note, I have seen a few fics play around with two ideas that were (as far as I'm aware) retconned: Damian's conception being unconsensual and Talia having sexual relations with Jason.
As long as you keep in mind that these were retconned and come from racist, sexist, or both connotations, it's okay to explore the impact these actions would have on all characters involved (especially if we're utilizing the reasoning that Talia wasn't in her right mind during those actions).
That's a basic summary of why there's heavy debate around Talia and the al Ghuls as a whole.
Now! Let's get into Talia and Jason specifically!!!!
The comic run we want to look into is Red Hood - The Lost Days. I am unsure if there are any other comics that cover post-death Jason but pre-Red Hood. If anyone has any other canon material that covers or mentions this time period, feel free to comment, reblog, etc.
This is Talia's initial reaction to hearing about Jason:
She expresses concern, worry, and grief for Bruce
She then has spies give her updates on Bruce's situation. Everyone else states Bruce is "stepping up his game." She calls them fools (since Bruce is obviously just hurting)
Very quickly, we get into her discovery of Jason Todd:
So. Jason's catatonic and Talia was ordered not to inform Bruce. Regardless of if she wanted to, she would be betraying her father if she told Bruce
Then I'm just going to drop all of these panels:
This shows she somewhat cares about him. Whether that's for Jason or because of Bruce, that's irrelevant. She still cares and wants him to get better. She wants him to go home.
Talia only pushes Jason into the Lazarus Pits because she's run out of time
Now... she may be an unreliable narrator. She states she's doing this for Jason's sake, but it does seem like it's more for her own. Regardless, she doesn't have ill intentions.
Talia dips Jason in the Pits and then tosses him out
That line of hers seems suspicious, but I see it more as her trying to hide the fact she had Jason for so long. It's less "go be mad at Bruce" and more "gods, what is Bruce gonna think of me if Jason shows up on his doorstep?"" Selfish, but not in the way fanon characterizes it.
She had trackers on the bag, though. She just needed him away from Ra's
Ra's tells Talia she fucked up, Jason tries to blow up the batmobile, and then tries to tell Talia he didn't lose his nerve for revenge against Bruce
Talia realizes that reviving Jason with the Pit might have fucked Jason up
Jason asks Talia for her help with revenge against Bruce. Talia did not set that up. Jason was the one to suggest it without influence
Talia obviously does not want to be helping Jason right now. She still agrees, though
Let me just toss this here too:
So... She's not doing this completely because she cares about Jason or that it's the right thing, but she also sure as hell does not want Jason to be going down this revenge path
Despite all of this, there's this:
They then proceed to fuck.
Which is gross as hell, and how some people can say that she took advantage of him
I think them fucking got retconned, though....
So, it's slightly complicated?
In my personal opinion, the final answer is: "It is fanon!"
There may be some truth or canon behind it, but that most likely comes from more racist characterizations of her character. However, the canon material that explicitly covers this topic makes it clear:
"Talia was selfish with her help to Jason. She wants Bruce to love her. She thus ends up hiding Jason's existence out of fear of Bruce's reaction. She does not want Jason to be mad at Bruce or fight his dad."
This also matches the other characterization I've seen of this: "Talia uses the distraction technique to try to hold Jason back from murdering his own father. 'You can't murder Bruce without training, Jason.'"
To continue, whether Talia should've told Bruce or not is an entirely different matter. Sometimes, I've avoided telling people shit out of fear, which made the situations worse. It wasn't great of her to do that, but in no way should this villainze her. I also 100% love that this gives her a flaw. People make mistakes. She's trying. She may have gone about it poorly, but she did what she thought she could. It was selfish, but I don't blame her.
She could've also convinced Jason to give up his mission entirely right before they fucked. That's where it gets murky.
You are absolutely correct that we can use the fanon idea of the al Ghuls manipulating Jason. On the other hand, I haven't seen enough fics where Talia treats Jason like an unruly toddler instead.
"No, Jason. We can't murder Bruce. Obviously, you need training first." Her visible reaction is a motherly rolling eyes. Internally, she's just panicking ("fuck fuck fuck fuck. How do I curb bloodlust? How do I stop patricide? Procrastination!!!")
Anyways, thanks for bringing the question up! It allowed me to look into it and put my thoughts in order ^^
Feel free to read the rest of the run!
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This is not a reply to an ask. This is just a post she made. But this actually makes sense and I can't actually believe it makes sense. I also can't believe I kind of want to see it đ¤Ł
Okay I have now watched the episode a couple of times. I was not a fan after the first viewing, but that was my fault. I had unreasonable Buddie expectations for an episode that wasn't at all about Buddie (hold on, I will explain). It was entirely about Buck and from Buck's perspective it was very well done. I think I can see what they might be doing, and if I'm right I will love it. Lots of you will hate it. But it makes perfect sense from a Buck standpoint. I think the show is setting up having Buck make an actual choice. But I think Buck will make the choice not knowing that Eddie is now a genuine choice he can make. I think the audience will be the only ones who know that by the end of episode 6. I'm not sure if I can make this make sense, lol, but I'm going to try, so try and walk with me here. The show clearly established last night that as far as the show is concerned Tommy is a decent choice for Buck to make. He's just not the right choice. He's close, which is why they had him and Eddie react so similarly to Buck last night, but he's not the exact right fit for Buck. Eddie is and they clearly established that last night. Everything about Tommy's scenes last night had him as the odd man out. And the way Eddie was used specifically in the B/T scenes last night clearly placed him in the role of Buck's partner. He was the one who was with Buck at the hospital, and not wearing the visitor tag, he was also the one Tommy called to tend to Buck's face and to try and talk some sense into him. In those scenes Tommy was the one who felt unnecessary and out of place. Eddie was the character that should have felt out of place in those scenes though. But because Eddie is the true correct choice for Buck it felt right for him to be the one taking up that space in those scenes. Eddie is the right choice. But neither Buck or Eddie, yet, know that. The framing of Tommy in all his scenes last night was intentional. Buck is keeping him on the outside. He's not part of the group. Tommy showed up and tried to participate last night, he made effort, but Buck kept him at a distance. I think the advice Buck is going to get in episode 6 is going to be that he has to decide whether to genuinely try or to walk away. I think Buck will choose to try. But while Buck is having his relationship storyline the audience will see Eddie having his storyline and whatever moment of self reckoning for him that involves. But I think the audience will know by the end of that episode that Eddie is now an actual option for Buck to choose, even if he isn't ready to be chosen or to tell Buck. But Buck won't know that. Obviously episode 6 could blow this theory right out of the water but this feels plausible to me. I think this is the will they or won't they part. And again, this may make absolutely no sense but it does feel, at least to me, like they want Buck to have a genuine choice to make between the two. I just think he'll make it, at least at first, without knowing everything. So it will look like one thing but will end up being another thing. Like episode 7x4. It was about Eddie and looked like Eddie but at the end of the episode he was with Tommy. This time the choice will look like Tommy but will end up being Eddie.
Thank you Nonny!
Oooh, I really like this speculation. I can definitely see something like this happen. The show will want to build up their story organically and this could be a good way to start their journey.
IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!
Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.
Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.
If you are interested in more of Aliâs posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.
#anonymous blog I love#BT speculation#T speculation#Buddie speculation#Buddie slow burn speculation#season 8 speculation#nonnies galore
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Sunflower Fields
the rustling wind was all too characteristic now, dream or not, he just wished to remember your voice...
character â wars, romantic or platonic
cw â mild angst with happy ending.
this is a gift i made for the loveliest @wayfayrr and took way too long to post because tumblr is a bitch, but since i am here now... enjoy! ps: i made an art commission from the dearest @h4wari. check it out, it's amazing!
The calm summer breeze blew, comforting and slightly humid as it ruffled his hair along with the scarf.
Blue star coloured eyes focused on the horizon, the chatting and bantering happening beside him barely catching his attention.
He looked lost.
As if chasing after something oh so far away, yet he didn't know what it was.
âDozing off again, Link?â Impa voice resounded, breaking him off his stupor, gladiolus eyes thinning at the blank stare the warrior offered her.
âLet it be, Impa.â Zelda cut through, graciously stirring the tea before she poured one cup for herself.
âAh, I can do it, Your Highness-â As Impa tried to stand up, the princess simply waved her hand.
Link took a sip of his own tea, already cold, though the gentle rosemary scent still filled his nostrils, a vague memory of Zelda telling him it was one of her favorite ones coming to mind, yet as the flavor seeped into his mouth he could only grimace.
Bitter.
The princess lightly pushed the sugar pot nearer to him, yet the hero refused, setting the porcelain cup back to the saucer with a muted clack.
âExcuse me, but I have to go back to my duties.â A blatant lie, he had been given a week off just the previous day.
Nonetheless, the princess nodded in understanding, barely looking his way as he made his way out of the garden. The gerbera daisies surrounded him the whole way out, as if mocking him, the sunny yellow shade only serving to make his mood worse.
He couldnât understand why it was happening, why sometimes there were lapses of memories within him, the figments of a voice and a soft touch that caressed his cheeks with so much tenderness that he wanted to cry. He knew that such a thing could never have happened in the past as he spent most of his time in the war and taking care of his job as a commander.
His fists clenched when he finally reached the outer walls of the castle, the soldiers guarding the area bowed to him in respect, before opening the gates.
Freedom at last.
Somehow, after everything that happened, he couldnât feel at ease while in that place, when near those people, when he got reminded of every single nightmare he had to push through, he felt as if drowning amidst the suffocating essence of abatina flowers, her image resurfacing to his mind even when he tried so hard to wipe it out of the memory.
With a sigh, he started heading back to his quarter, a vague sensation of deja vu overcoming his body, the rustling of the crisp summer air brushing his hair as if it was a loving hand.
The path home was quiet, some people greeting him here and there, to which was answered by his collected smile.
A fake.
Somehow nothing made sense, nothing seemed real, no amount of working or enjoyment made him feel at ease.
As the door to his house was opened, the red columbine in his stand shriveled, petals droopy, as thirst for a little drop of water, even then he ignored it, too aware of his own cowardice, hanging his uniform as he made his way to the bed.
The tired body just crumbled onto the bed, not trying to hold onto consciousness as he fell into a deep slumber.
âŚ
He felt weightless, the usual tiredness not heaving into his shoulder.
A patch of small sunflowers surrounded him, someone sitting amidst it, a laughter familiar to him.
They said something that he couldn't quite understand, but before he could ask anything, they walked towards him, taking his hands into theirs, comforting and warm just as he remembered.
They laughed before bursting into hundreds of birds of paradise, colourful and filled with emotions.
Link didn't have any time to process it, however, as his eyes opened, the rays of light shone down on him as yet another day started.
Repeating it all once again.
He wished to sigh, but staying still at the same place for so long wouldn't do him any good, and only make him pity himself even more.
Just as he opened the curtains of his bedroom, his eyes widened, the place that should have been a vast open hill, was now covered in a patch of sunflowers, much like the dream he just had.
Not even bothering to take his usual uniform, he headed out in a flurry, tripping over his own feet as he stumbled towards the door.
As he opened it, the sight that greeted him was a familiar, yet unknown figure, surrounded by the townsfolk, all carrying bouquets of sunflowers, and placing it around the now covered patch of land.
The mysterious person's eyes met his, and they didn't hesitate before approaching him, the white-pink valerians in their arms standing out among the bright yellow blooms everyone else held.
âI'm sure you didn't expect it, Link.â Their familiar voice rang inside his heart, and he unknowingly smiled at it.
âYou⌠how..?â So many questions flooded his head, yet no coherent words came out.
Scalding hot tears brimmed around his eyes, and with a soft smile they brushed it out of his face.
âI'm sorry that it took me so long to get to you my dear.â They answered with a melancholic smile, offering him the valerian bouquet.
He hesitated for a second, yet the moment he saw the guilt in your eyes, he carefully took it, not wasting any more time before taking you into a warm embrace.
âI missed you so muchâŚâ Link said.
âMe too, Link.â You sobbed into his arms.
Blue Star â Strength, Resilience
Gladiolus â Victorious, Strength
Rosemary â Remembrance
Gerbera Daisies (Yellow) â Appreciation in relationships
Abatina â Fickleness
Red columbine â Anxious, Trembling
Dwarf Sunflower â Adoration
Bird of Paradise â Freedom
Valerian â Readiness
#warriors x reader#linked universe warriors#linked universe#linked universe x reader#lu warriors#warriors#fungi's delicacies
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Hi. I've made a post about this before, but I have more information now (and hopefully I can organize it better).
Ghoul is a n//zi. Only censoring because I tried to make this post already and it didn't show up.
Here is a list of all the social media accounts I could find that he uses so you can block/avoid him.
There is a possible tumblr sideblog I might be unaware of (edit: this has been found!). Click the read more for more details/evidence.
Twitter: xGOREGHOULx
Tumblr: previously d34d-d06-404, now gunk2d34th (warning for bright/eyestrain theme on desktop)
(Edit) Tumblr sideblog: fourexforevrrr
(Edit) Another Tumblr sideblog: dreamobjectshow
Discord server: OBJECTZSPACE
Discord username: gir4life
Pinterest: deranged_number4 + xX4_1STH3B35T1NT3G3RXx
Youtube: xGOREGUNK2009x + xGOREGHOULx
Soundcloud: xUR LOCAL GABBER KIDx + GORE GUNKZ
Pronouns.page: xGOREKIDx
Rentry: DERANGEDFOURNER (warning for bright/eyestrain/flashing gifs)
(Edit) Strawpage: gunksite (warning for flashing gifs/eyestrain)
Carrd: goreghoulquest (warning for moving/spinning/rotating background image. i'm dizzy/have a headache from it. it's a first person video game perspective of somebody spinning in circles in a brick maze.)
On October 21 2023, Ghoul posted these to his pinterest. I looked at the website page data in order to get that date, because I don't think pinterest has a clear way of showing when things were posted (and if it does, I don't know about it).
That's the n//zi salute from Kratcy (CFMOT) and n//zi uniform from Yoshka (CFMOT), complete with a red n//zi armband.
In the last one of Kratcy, the caption is HEIL, MEIN FĂHRER!!! In English, this means HAIL, MY LEADER!!! FĂźhrer is the title Hitler gave to himself when he came into power.
On October 22 2023, Ghoul posted this to his twitter.
Three drawings of Four (BFDI/BFB) wearing a n//zi armband. It's censored out in two of them, but Ghoul forgot to censor out the first one. This is an indication that he knew it was bad to draw/post, but did so anyway.
Later that day, he posted this.
Another drawing of Four wearing a n//zi armband, with a caption to spell it out for you.
On October 23 2023, he posted to his twitter again.
Another one.
On December 20 2023 (two months after all those posts), somebody on twitter pointed out the armband in Ghoul's post. The callout post got a little traction, some of the other art was found, and Ghoul was asked why he drew n//zi art. This was his "apology." I included the second screenshot so you know I'm not intentionally cutting anything out with the first screenshot.
Mania does not suddenly make you antisemetic. Mania does not suddenly compel you to draw n//zi imagery. Ghoul tried censoring two out of the three images, trying to hide it. He clearly knew it was a bad thing to do. He is using mental health issues to excuse his actions.
On December 21 2023, he answered this ask on his tumblr.
And then left this in the replies of the ask post.
Again, using mental health issues as an excuse. If you felt bad for it, wouldn't you have deleted it as soon as you got into a clear headspace? Would you not have addressed it sooner instead of waiting for people to call you out on it first? If you were truly trying to ruin your reputation, why did you try to censor some of it? It isn't "old art", either. It's from three months ago.
I'm including this screenshot so people know what the discord server looks like. I am not in this server, I only clicked the link to get the screenshot. I do not know if anybody is co-running this server along with Ghoul, or if it is only Ghoul himself running it.
I'm including this poll because I don't know if he ever made that sideblog or not. If he did, I don't know the url. If anybody does know it, please tell me. I'll leave your name out of it. I just want people to be able to block it if it exists.
(Edit) This sideblog has been found! It's @/fourexforevrrr
As of writing this post, it is January 7 2024. Ghoul has not said anything about this since and continues to post art like normal. I don't want this to be swept underneath the rug. I'm not allowing a n//zi to exist in the object show community. I don't care that he's a minor (16). This is vile.
#bfdi#bfb#bfb four#bfb x#tpot#bfb 4x#bfb 4#cfmot#xfohv#hfjone#bfdia#ii#iii#inanimate insanity#osc#dni#beware#sorry for crosstagging i just know these r the tags he's most active in#i wrote this yesterday but it wouldn't post. i'm gonna keep trying until it does
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we tried the world, good god, it wasn't for us! (part 4.1)
pairing: autistic!satoru x suguru x autistic!reader
word count: 15.5k (IT JUST KEEPS GETTING LONGER WHY)
summary: that second year of high school has a clear division within your mindâbefore summer and after. this is the before.
tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, bisexual!reader, bisexual!suguru, awkward teenage sexual awakenings, denying that you're thirsting on your bffs and you're plunging in DENIAL river at the thought of CRUSHING on your bffs, masturbation, wet dreams (ish?), the existential crisis of realizing a bunch of old dudes poorly control the future of your teenage life, and good ole fashioned meltdowns
beautiful people who asked to be tagged đ: @ichikanu, @iceheartsice, @anders-is-being-a-simp-again, @honeydew-cheesecake
author note: (ಠ_ಠ) no seriously dude stories really do have a mind of their own because HERE WE ARE. 15.5 THOUSAND WORDS. and that was BEFORE hidden inventory. i've still got so many brain worms for post-hidden inventory that i said "my god the tumblr post will be so fucking long let me just cut this in half and give the besties an update while i'm at it"
chapter links: ONE, TWO, THREE, AO3
[YEAR TWO.]
[PART I]
You know that theyâre there. Youâre not sure exactly where, but you can feel their eyes on youâsharp and predatory. You know that you may not be the best sorcerer around, but you think that this is a mission only you can do. You canât let yourself waver here! There are people who depend on you now!
âWe truly appreciate this, Senpai.â
Theyâre close, you can feel it. Youâll have to make your final stand here. Maybe you can trick them, so they donât come at you with their all. Yes, youâll talk and make it look like youâve let your guard down.
You slow to a stop and turn around to face the two boys behind you with a smile. Haibara Yu and Nanami Kentoâthe only two to be enrolled this year. Both of them come from non-sorcerer families, so like you and Suguru last year, theyâre here a week early to have a crash course on the jujutsu world. Hmm, now that you think about it, that could be why youâre so protective of them. You remember how overwhelmed you were by all that information thrown at you.
Nanami was dead serious with his thanks, as he is in general. Paired with Haibara, who is open and warm, you hope that his sharp edges will soften. Just as you hope that Nanami will teach Haibara to learn how to focus. Heâs very laidback. Youâre not sure that he realizes how dangerous sorcery can be.
âI hope this doesnât offend you,â Haibara starts nervously, âbut isnât thisâŚexcessive?â
Oh, poor, sweet, naĂŻve Haibara. There are still stars in his eyes. It blinds him to the truth that you have to do this because no one else can. Only you can stand up to those saccharine smiles and escort your precious juniors to class. Without you, either theyâd be kidnapped or Nanami would break and be expelled because he hasnât built up an immunity yet.
Out of the corner of your eye, shadows move.
However, you were prepared for this!
Youâve learned from experience, so you know that one will try to sneak up behind you and snatch you up. With a mighty cry, you brandish the bottle that you had hidden in the front pocket of your uniform. Giving your back to your juniors, you spray Suguru right in the face with water.
âGah!â
You spin on your heel and push between Nanami and Haibara to reach Satoru who stands behind them with a sadistic grin. His hands were going for their collars, but heâs lost when you spray him in the face, too. It doesnât matter that the water is stalled by Infinity. Theyâve lost the game today.
âNo!â You hold the spray bottle up threateningly. Satoru accepts his defeat by dropping down to sit on the ground and cross his arms over his chest. âLet them get to class! Thereâs not gonna be any weird hazing rituals on my watch!â
âWhen did you become a member of the Disciplinary Committee?â Suguru teases while he slides in beside you to lean an elbow on your shoulder. You brandish the bottle, but he takes a step back with his hands raised in defeat. âYou win this round, Squid. I wonât bother you or your ducklings for the rest of the day.â
Did you hear Nanami breathe a sigh of relief? Youâre not sure. But you definitely hear Haibara squawk loudly. You look over your shoulder, watching as Nanami takes the chance to escape and books it away from the scene, practically dragging his classmate along with him. You canât say that you blame Nanami. You know other people tend to think that Satoru is a lot to deal with and now that he and Suguru are so closeâŚat times, theyâre downright unbearable.
With an irritated sigh, you ask them, âCan you stop with the duckling thing?â
âWhy? Worried youâll get another nickname, Mama Duck?â Satoru taunts.
You wonât tell him that heâs right.
âThe real question,â Suguru interrupts as he gently tugs at the strap of your backpack, âis where are you going?â
âA date,â you answer bluntly.
âWhat?!â Satoru yelps.
Suguru quickly follows up with, âWith who?!â
âTalk about Mama Duck,â you mutter.
âPapa!â Satoru whines. Because heâs still on the ground, he starts tugging at Suguruâs pantsâmore like a child than the mother he pretends to be. âSketch is in her rebellious phase!â
âYouâre not reading any of my Ouran manga anymore.â In preparation for the anime adaptation thatâs about to premiere, youâve been burning through the manga. And Satoru once declared that he wanted to read what you did because he wants to know what kind of things you like, so heâs been reading it along with you. âIâm meeting up with Shoko. Weâre getting our nails done and grabbing food.â
âBoo.â Satoru leans back on his hands with a huff. âSuguru, letâs go on our own date to make them jealous!â
âYou guys are extra childish today.â You put a hand on your hip. âIf I stop at the konbini on my way back, will you cut it out with the temper tantrums?â
âRude.â You wait. Suguru and you stare at each other. Heâs the one to crack first. âSome unadon, please.â
âParfait!â Satoru chirps.
âActual food, Satoru,â you and Suguru intone at the exact same time.
âUgh. Fine. A katsu sandwich and the parfait.â
âGood boy.â Satoru has an interesting reaction to your praise. His face turns bright red, probably out of chagrin. He jerks away from your hand thatâs reaching out to ruffle his hair and yanks his legs up against his chest. You hold your hands up like Suguru had done not long ago. âSorry,â you quickly apologize. âI shouldâve asked before I tried to touch.â
âItâs not that!â Satoru snaps his head to the side, looking away, scowling at nothing. âYou know that you and Suguru are allowed to touch me whenever! But donât talk to me like Iâm a dog! Jeez!â
You cock your head to the side. âIs that how it came off? I was being genuine. You usually put up more of a fuss when we try to get you to eat regular food.â
âSquid.â You turn to look up at Suguru. Thereâs this weird smile on his face as he watches Satoru. Forced, maybe? But then he turns his attention back to you. âWhat time are you meeting Shoko? Shouldnât you get going? I donât want you to freak out over being late because we held you up.â
Your eye twitches. âBut youâll hold up our juniors from going to class?â
The tension in his smile melts away for something coyer. âWe want to welcome them. Get to know them better since theyâre in the dorms with us now. Isnât that the responsible thing to do as their upperclassmen?â
âI canât believe you preached to them about how important our roles are, but you want to interrupt their studies.â
âItâs nothing official,â he tries to dismiss. âSensei wonât throw them to the wolves on their first day. They could catch up once the term starts.â He raises a brow. âI canât believe you preached to them about having fun when they can, but you want to keep them tucked away under your wing,â he throws back at you tauntingly.
You roll your eyes. âGo jerk each other off or something and leave the rest of us out of it.â
Theyâre both still sputtering when you walk away with a smug smirk.
Oh.
No wonder Satoru and Suguru had been so upset about the idea of you on a date. Youâd completely forgotten that itâs cherry blossom season. There are definitely no open benches. Thankfully, youâre prepared! You brought a blanket in case the benches were still wet from the morning dew. Youâre happy that youâre still early despite Satoru and Suguruâs distraction because you have time to hunt down a spot thatâs as far away as it can be from other people on the open lawn.
You spot Shoko before she sees you. You stand up and wave a hand in the air to catch her attention. Around the stick in her mouth, sheâs grinning as she approaches. Then, because youâre weirdly attracted to having assholes for friends, she asks loud enough for other people to hear, âAre we on an actual date, pretty girl?â
And, normally, youâd be embarrassed by that. Right now, though, when sheâs close enough, youâre smacked in the face with the bitter smell of smoke. The end of what you thought was a candy stick is bright orange. âShoko!â You flap a hand nervously in her direction, motioning toward that thing in her mouth. âYou leave us for a month and youâre smoking now?!â
âAw, man. Iâd hoped getting you all flustered wouldâve helped you ignore that.â She laughs easily. âHere.â She plops the plastic bag in hand on the blanket. âI wanted to drop this off before I go put out this cigarette. I donât want us getting kicked out for me not being in the designated smoking area.â She waves a hand. âBe right back.â
Youâre still in a tizzy when she gets back. âThis is bribery,â you accuse when sheâs close enough. When sheâd proposed this, you suggested the both of you buying your own meals, but she insisted on paying. Now, you know why, and you also know why she got a bunch of your favorite foods and drinks. âI canât believe you,â you continue to complain. âYouâre going to be a doctor. You have surgeons as parents. What do they think about this?â
âTheyâre smokers, too.â
You huff in disbelief. âThat seemsâŚirresponsible.â
âThey do have a kid that could heal any complications that come from it. Thatâs why I do it. I get the chemical rush and none of the damage. Seems like a win-win to me.â She plops down on the blanket next to you. âYouâre not helping the Mama Duck allegations, yâknow.â
Ugh. Having more than one friend sucks sometimes. If only they could move those online chatrooms to cell phones. You could scold them all at once about this weird obsession they have with giving you embarrassing nicknames. âItâs not bad to care about people!â
âYouâre too sweet for jerks like us, pretty girl,â Shoko says with a laugh as she holds out okonomiyaki as an offering.
You eye the plastic container before you snatch it from her hands. âNo octopus, right?â
âVegetarian,â she replies. You smile brightly and flip the container open. Between the both of you chowing down, she asks, âDid you work on your technique over the break? Gotten anywhere else with it?â
âUgh, yeah, and itâs gotten me in a weird place.â She raises a brow at your answer. You absentmindedly chew on the end of your straw. âI still canât control them. Itâs like Iâm giving them a suggestion and the weaker they are, the more likely they are to listen to what I have to say.â You frown. âI was on an assignment with Suguru and another sorcerer last week, yâknow. They used a shikigami.â You fidget nervously. âI pacified the shikigami and Suguruâs cursed spirit.â
Shoko nearly drops her drink from the shock. âSeriously?â
You nod. âWe donât know what to make of it. I could maybe understand Suguru since the cursed spirits are technically their own separate thing. Itâs like an extreme master-servant deal. But with a shikigamiâŚthatâs just a physical form of a sorcererâs cursed energy.â
âHow easy was it?â
âNot at all. I passed out,â you admit sheepishly. âI thought I was pacifying the cursed spirit we were after, butâŚuhâŚI guess the other two were caught in the range. The shikigami was a lot easier, actually. It might have to do with the amount of cursed energy. When this was all happening, it felt like an uphill battle. Suguru has more cursed energy than me and itâs like Iâm muting his connection, so I guess Iâd need to overcome his. If he wasnât so tired, I donât think I wouldâve won.â
She hums thoughtfully. âMaybe it all boils down to cursed energy.â You tilt your head in question. âLikeâŚyouâre suppressing cursed energy itself. Not only cursed spirits. What are cursed spirits if not a massive amount of negative cursed energy? If you look at it with that perspective, it only makes sense that you can pacify shikigami.â
âI want to say that it feels like youâre reaching, butâŚâ Well. Thatâs the only logical outcome when you add up the pieces. Itâs started now because youâre getting stronger, refining control over your own cursed energy. âI donât like this,â you whisper when you start thinking too much. âWouldnât the next step be pacifying the sorcerer? IâŚI donât want to control people.â You shake your head furiously. âNo. I could never be that strong.â
âDonât underestimate yourself there, pretty girl. If it boils down to a cursed energy match, you have a lot.â You try to wave the comment off. Sensei has mentioned something along those lines, too. âIâm serious. You canât compare yourself to Gojo and Geto since theyâre freaks of nature. Youâve got such an insane amount that youâre getting close to freak yourself. If you had a more threatening ability, you might be considered Special Grade.â
âCan we not talk about me anymore, please?â
âAlright, alright. Let me tell you about the fun I had over the break. They gave me access to the morgue.â
***
YouâreâŚdistractedâŚ
Itâs hard not to stare.
It was only a moment, but you still watch him intently. Youâre reminded of those pictures that are drawn in such a way that you can see multiple interpretations and when someone points out their own perspective, you can never not see it anymore. This is like that. It doesnât matter if you demand that he tuck his shirt in like some scandalized lady of the house from the Heian period because itâs burned in your brain now.
Such a small, simple thing. A flutter of his shirt when he leaped in the air to shoot the basketball, and you saw beneath the figurative curtain. And somewhere in the back of your brain, you knew that a simple belt wouldnât be enough to hold up Suguruâs heavy, baggy pants, but it never clicked. Not until now. Not until you saw a flash of the high waist of his pants.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
Why does it feel like your brain would be playing the old internet dial-up sound on a loop if someone could read your mind right now?
It was a waist! You didnât even see skin! If youâre going to drool over something, it should be his arms. With his sleeves rolled up like that, you can see the few veins that run along his upper arms. With him holding a basketball like that, the size of his hands become more apparent. SuguruâŚreally took that punch at last yearâs Goodwill Event personally and heâs started to work out a lot more. You can tell. Not that he wasnât fit before with all the farm work he did in the village, butâŚ
Holy shit, what are you going to do in summer? You think you heard Satoru mention that they had more people to play basketball with now, so they could do teams, andâŚand donât guys do the whole shirts versus skins thing? They wouldnât with only two to a team, would they? What are you going to do? Suguru is more massive than ever now. More muscled than ever.
Is the heat still on? Youâre so hot right now. And more than thatâŚ
âYo! Sketch! Hey, look outââ
Something heavy thumps against the top of your head. You clutch at your head, watching the basketball bounce away, more flustered than hurt that you wereâŚwereâŚin a daze. Because you saw your best friendâs waist. When did Suguru get curves? Oh, no. Does this make you a pervert? You might be a pervert!
âSquid?â
The stupidly curvaceous man of the hour squats down in front of you. Hair has fallen out of his tight bun, bangs now framing both sides of his face. You duck your head, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with him. You watch his fingers twitch, but he puts his hands firmly on his big thighs.
âYou lookinâ to get a new nickname, Sketch?â Satoru calls out as he approaches you and Suguru. âYouâll get one if you donât stop being such a space cadet.â
Suguru rolls his eyes. âYouâre so caring, Satoru. Really, youâre dripping with compassion.â He shakes his head before moving his attention back to you, expression softening. âAre you okay? Is it a bad day?â
âIs it a crime to daydream?â You scramble for something to explain your behavior. âI donât know. IâŚI was trying to remember what that cursed spirit looked like.â You shake your sketchbook. His brows furrow in confusion when he looks at it because itâs almost done. You panic. âUhâŚlikeâŚdid it have fur or not? I canât remember!â
âIt was scalesâŚâ Suguru informs you slowly. âAre you okay? Really? Not feeling sick or anything? You donât usually forget big things like that when it comes to cursed spirits.â
The gym door slams open, the sound echoing, and making you yelp.
Sensei shouts all your names as if youâre in troubleâŚwhich, to be fair, you probably are since you were supposed to be spending this time studying in the library. Technically, you could spin the sketch as work since you are supposed to record curses that you encounter, but you donât even want to defend yourself. Youâve never been more thankful to be in trouble in your life. Sensei has learned that the best punishment is to separate you all from each other. You need some room to breathe.
âSince you have so much energy to burn,â Sensei starts heatedly, âyou can come help with the first years.â
âUgh,â Satoru and Suguru groan in unison.
You smartly slide off to the side to make way for Sensei. He rushes forward to knock them both over the head as a reprimand for the rude response. The hit makes them drop to their knees and they accept that theyâre in for a lecture. Sensei doesnât demand the same gesture from you because he knows that youâll stay where you are. You do tune him out partway through, though. This is definitely a lecture more targeted toward Satoru and Suguru because youâre more than happy to help with whatever the first years need.
When Sensei calls out your name, you snap back to attention. âYouâll spar with Satoru today,â he declares. Itâs hard to retain your politeness. Turns out that youâre not exactly escaping, after all. It could be worse. He could make you run the track again which you hate because you donât have anyone to keep you company, so you get bored just running in circles.
Then, you process his words fully. âSatoru?â
âSuguru is going to work with Nanami and Haibara today,â Sensei explains. âSatoru still needs a lot of work on his hand-to-hand combat.â Suguru snickers quietly while Satoru sputters at the, frankly, correct assessment. âYouâre next best after Suguru. Heâll benefit from sparring with you. It might also help him with having some restraint.â
âWhat the hell, old man?!â Satoru shouts. âSuguru, shut up!â Clearly, Satoru isnât that preoccupied with getting an answer. He just stomps out of the gym with a red face while Suguru quickly follows after him to pile on the teasing.
Both you and Sensei sigh when theyâre out of sightâfor different reasons, of course. Sensei goes on to scrub a hand across his face. You donât doubt that heâs questioning his life choices right now. Kusakabe, when he visits Sensei and you escort him to where your teacher is, has told you that Sensei complains about how Satoru and Suguru are some of the most promising yet most frustrating students that heâs ever had.
âSorry, Sensei.â You feel the need to apologize on their behalf. Sensei shoots you an irritable look now. One of your biggest lectures is to stop doting on Satoru and Suguru. âSorry,â you mumble again with a wince. He stares at you a few seconds more before he heads out of the gym. You quickly follow after and step in line beside him. âUmâŚyou said that we needed to get used to helping Nanami and Haibara more. Something about escorting them on missions?â That had caught your attention during the lecture. âWhen does that start?â
âIâm not sure,â Sensei answers honestly. âIt depends on how today goes. Haibaraâs family owns a dojo. Nanami has taken kendo classes since he was a child. I want to see how well they incorporate cursed energy into their techniques.â
Your brows furrow. âItâs been a monthâŚâ He hums in agreement. âWe were going on our first assignments within a month.â
âYour class is a special case. Youâre all extremely talented. Satoru and Suguru are in the process of being assigned Special Grade status. Iâve also been speaking with Kusakabe about putting your name forward for Grade 1 in the future.â Your eyes widen and your head snaps up to stare at him in shock. âThough, Iâm not sure that you need the recommendation. Those at headquarters are very interested in your abilities. Theyâll be speaking with you soon.â
âIâŚI donât understand.â Your mind is spinning right now. âWhy? What more can I tell them?â
Sensei stops and turns to stare at you like youâve grown another head. âYou discovered that the Red Room Curse exists as an extension of a cursed spiritâs technique. You used the break to research, something you didnât have to do. If it wasnât for you, we wouldnât have known that it had created a cursed tool in the Taisho period. It was found yesterday, if you were curious. Itâs been sealed away.â
You frown. âDoesnât that just mean they should do more research themselves?â
âThey should,â he agrees. But they wonât and now youâre here, he doesnât say. You can do it for them. âLike any high schooler, you should start thinking about what you want to do after graduation. You and Shoko have more options open to you than the rest of your peers. As your name spreads at headquarters, it trickles down to the clans, so they may offer you positions, too.â
And you canât help but blurt, âCouldnât you have sprung this on me after sparring?â
Sensei chuckles softly. âIt wasnât meant to cause you stress. What you do or donât do with your technique is up to you. This was to help you see your worth, more than anything.â
You blink at his honesty. âYâknowâŚyouâre actually a good guy, Sensei.â
âIâm going to take that as a compliment,â he grouses.
âAh, but it was?â
Sensei sighs. âI know.â
âThis is stupid,â Satoru complains as the two of you stand off to the side and watch Nanami and Haibara throw themselves at Suguru. They try to clumsily infuse their moves with cursed energy which Suguru is quick to point out and guide them on how to better let their cursed energy flow. âWhy not let the guy with a shield handle this?â
âThe inconsistent shield?â
Ah, maybe that was a little too mean. Satoru is in a weird place. The last few months, heâs felt like heâs started to slide backward in terms of progress. He still canât fire off his technique, Red, consistently. Whenever he does try, it leaves him exhausted. Not to mention that, suddenly, his Infinity has started to lower at the most random of times. Satoru has no reason why. Thankfully, itâs not a lot. Sensei and Shoko were honestly shocked because itâs never dropped around them. Itâs only you and Suguru that have seen Infinity act up and Satoru wants to keep it that way.
Satoru doesnât dwell on your words. âNot you too, Sketch! Whatâs with everyone bashing me today, huh?â
âAnyway.â You roll your eyes. âGetting hit is the point here. Suguru can feel their output better that way and correct them. And itâs not enough for them to hurt him.â
âIâm good at controlling and channeling my cursed energy, too!â
âYeah, but you canât explain it well.â Before he can loudly whine again, you interrupt. âFor you, itâs so easy that you donât think about it. It would be like explaining how to breathe.â You pause. âAlso, youâre way too rude. You need to be delicate with these things and thatâs impossible for you.â
âIs not!â
You turn to stare at him while you dryly ask, âAre you done stalling now?â
His cheeks are flushed with chagrin. âIâm not stalling!â
âLetâs get started, then. I want today to be over. Iâm exhausted.â You are tired, true, but you mainly want to run and hide away in your room. ThoseâŚthoughtsâŚabout SuguruâŚthey still linger in the back of your mind. Youâre pointedly not trying to look at him specifically, instead focusing on Nanami or Haibara.
âFine.â
Satoru makes a show of stomping away. You follow after him with a shake of the head and quiet chuckle. Just a little pushback from people for once and he canât take it? Suguru will definitely give him more shit later. You wonder if Suguru will lecture him in the showersâ
Stop! Stop! Stop!
Where the fuck did that come from? Youâre so struck by your own brainâs train of thought that you almost trip over your feet. As you meet Satoru on the other side of the field, you purposely put your back to the first years. You pray that you wonât bump into them. You donât know that you can stand to face Suguru right now. Youâre done. This day has been weird and hellish. Youâll just have to apologize to Satoru later for your impending brutality. You canât take it easy on him today if you want to be dismissed by Sensei as soon as possible.
âStart already!â Sensei shouts from the other side of the field.
Youâre not sure whether Utahime would consider you a friend yet, but since Shoko has the hugest crush on her but is too scared to ask her on an actual date, youâve spent a lot of time with the two of them. A favorite activity of hers is dancing. It makes sense because itâs an integral part of her technique. More often than not, when you and Shoko visit Utahime in Kyoto, you three end up dancing the night away in her apartment.
And you, practical person that you are, have started to infuse what youâve learned into your attack style. Itâs useful against people like Suguru and Satoru who are so much taller and physically stronger than you. Because, like all things, there are disadvantages to their size. Youâre more nimble, more flexible. They naturally swing high which has you mostly going lowâsometimes, even dropping to do the splits. When they try to kick, you can dance away or, if you react fast enough, you can catch their leg to sweep them off their feet.
It's been some time since youâve sparred with Satoru, but that doesnât mean youâre still not watching. You know how he fights, but todayâŚitâs different. Heâs as dodgy as you are. If you didnât know better, youâd say that heâs pulling his punches. Never let it be said that heâs not a fast learner, so maybe heâs adjusting to match your fight style. Heâs like a snake, trying to lash out to get his fangs in you, trying to wrap around you. You narrowly miss getting locked down when he snatches your sweatshirt by pulling yourself out of it.
Just when you think you have his moves down, it only gets weirder. His cheeks are pink. You didnât think you were going hard enough at him to make him sweat, but maybe youâre wrong. Now, heâs purely on the defensiveâŚor so you think. You shouldâve known better. You make the mistake of trying to throw yourself fully on the offense. So, when you aim a high kick at him, he snatches your ankle and roughly yanks you.
It happens fast. You try to catch yourself with your hands, twisting your torso to try to get them on the ground. It doesnât work in that respect, but it does hook your ankle around Satoruâs neck enough to tip him forward. The back of your head smacks against the ground painfully. The breath is knocked out of you when Satoruâs heavier body lands right on top of you.
âOw, ow, ow, Sketch. You kicked my head!â
Words are stuck in your throat.
Because, suddenly, you have become hyperaware of your own body. And itâs not exactly like thatâsâŚabnormalâŚbut thisâŚisnât overstimulation. OrâŚmaybe it is? A shiver runs down your spine. The points of contact where Satoruâs bare skin touches yours are like live wiresâheated and sparking.
With the first few buttons of his shirt popped open, your cheek is smashed against his bare skin. Since youâre in a short-sleeve shirt, one of his stupidly huge hands are wrapped around your arm. AndâŚand when he tries to lift away from you, hisâŚhis knee slips up andâŚaccidentally nudges up between your thighsâŚ
You bite down on your bottom lip and squeeze your eyes shut, but itâs not enough to hold back the tiny whimper in response to the rush of heat that zips up your spine.
Oh, no.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
Above you, Satoru goes rigid. Youâre mortified. He heard. âOw!â Itâs all you can think to do. You hope that he falls for your desperate attempt to make that sound like a pained whimper. You need out of here. Fuck the consequences. You squeak out, âI yield!â
âCool!â Satoru sounds as equally panicked as you do. âMy prize is your sweatshirt!â
âWhatever! Can you mââ
Thereâs a burst of cursed energy. Then, you two become a dizzyingly mess of limbs. You yelp and instinctively grip at Satoru, but because he lifted his arm, his shirt rode up, so youâre grabbing at his bare waist and digging your nails in. He squawks at the rough treatment, trying to lean away, and his hand ends up groping one of your tits when he tries to get his bearings.
As soon as your sweatshirt that he pulled toward him with Blue is finally in his hand, Satoru moves away from you. He chokes when heâs yanked back viciously by the back of his collar. Suguru uses so much force that it briefly lifts Satoruâs knees off the ground. Satoru, weirdly, is protective of his prize because he only reaches back to swat at Suguru with one hand while the other keeps your sweatshirt pressed against his body.
âSatoru!â Suguru shouts. âWhat the hell? We donât use cursed techniques in sparringââ
âIâm okay!â You scramble to lift yourself up from the ground. âI am okay!â You donât know who youâre trying to convince, but Suguru isnât buying it. You canât blame him. Thereâs a tremble in your voice, sweat lining your skin, and your heart is pounding away in your chest. âI hope that everyone has a good sparring session! Iâm done!â
Sensei and Suguru both call out your name, but youâre already power walking away from the field.
Despite what some people may think, youâre not stupid or naĂŻve.
ButâŚwith how much time it took you to figure out what it was that you were feeling today since that time in the gymâŚyou might be in denial.
In the communal showers, under the lukewarm spray of water, you have your hands pressed to your scalding hot cheeks. You continue to take deep breaths. None of this helps. Thereâs a very real urge to clench your thighs together. Because thereâs a very real ache between them. Because your mind is an endless loopâsweat-slick skin and the hair stuck to it, flashes of skin from shirts ridden up, the outline of defined muscles hidden under white shirts, massive handsâŚ
You slap your hands over your face whichâŚdoesnât help. Since youâre alone, you crouch down without the fear of judgement. If you werenât alone, you think you still wouldnât care. Youâre in the middle of a crisis. Is this a moral crisis? No. Wait. Oh, no. Is this what they call a sexual awakening?
No. Thatâs stupid. Youâve obviously felt desire before. Kind of. It was about as lukewarm an experience as the water that pounds against your back right now. Your thoughts had been scattered, nowhere in particular, so maybe thatâs why itâd been dryâboth literally and metaphorically.
ThisâŚthis is so different from back then. This is warm. Itâs heat. Youâre throbbing. You didnât think that you could ever feel this way. Youâve never wanted to touch yourself so badly. And that in itself isnât a bad thing. Youâve never understood the point in shame over a natural bodily reaction and doing something to satisfy it. It never flustered you as much as your fellow classmates to hear the boys make sexual innuendos.
No, this shame comes from who you want to think about as you touch yourself. Even now, past your distress, you want to drop to your knees, slip your hand down between your thighs, and know what itâs supposed to truly feel like. But you knowâŚyou know that if you do that, their faces will be at the forefront of your mind.
Youâre not supposed to think about Satoru and Suguru like this!
They are your best friends!
How the hell are you supposed to ignore this? You finally understand what some people mean when they say they feel like a cat in heat. Itâs fine. Youâll justâŚget your mind off it. Ugh. So, going back to your room is a bad idea. If youâre left alone with your thoughts, youâll never stop thinking about it. What can you do, though? Why is your go-to always hanging out with friends? You donât want to be around people anymore. Youâre so mentally exhausted now.
Right, okay, youâll drop to your other default.
There was a bird nest in the big tree outside the classroom window. If youâre lucky, the mama bird will stay still long enough for you to draw her.
As always, drawing manages to knock you out of your head.
It calms you down to the point that between one blink and the next, youâre asleep. Not that you realize that until the ground falls out from underneath you and you jerk awake. Thereâs a part of you that knows whose arms youâre in, though, so your brain is still calm enough to try and drag you back to sleep.
With a sigh, you slip your arms around his neck and shove your face in the crook of his neck. âSketchbook,â you mumble as almost an afterthought.
âIâll come back for it later,â Suguru whispers. âYou have to stop sketching outdoors when youâre so tired, Squid. Youâll catch cold.â
âOkay,â you agree sleepily.
Suguru chuckles quietly. âForget it. Iâll lecture you tomorrow.â
***
âThis one?â
You take a step to the side, almost shoulder-to-shoulder with Shoko. You hunch over to examine where she points at on the display case. Itâs a cute tongue ring with a charm in the shape of a heart. âPretty, but too flat.â She raises a brow in question. âI like it when they have the little ball on the end. See?â You open your mouth to physically show her the piercing and how you roll it against your teeth. âItâs really satisfying to play with.â
On the other side of the display case, Utahime clicks her tongue. âThat could easily turn into a dangerous distraction.â
You tilt your body to stare at her through the crack of display cases. Deadpan, you ask, âYou have a problem with my tongue piercing but not with Shokoâs smoking?â
âIâm trying to save you from her bad influence,â Utahime shoots back.
âHey,â Shoko complains.
Then, hypocritically, Utahime points at her side of the case. âWhat about one of these?â Clearly, if sheâs making suggestions then she doesnât care all that much about your piercingâŚah. Wait. She was joking. Maybe a little. Youâre still trying to get a read on how Utahime communicates.
You step over to her side of the case. You canât catch yourself before you let out a shudder and scrunch your nose in disgust. Itâs a bead, sure, but itâs those rubbery ones with equally rubbery spikes. Just the thought of that touching the inside of your mouth is nauseating. âUmâŚthank you for the suggestion, butâŚno.â You try to keep it polite as to not offend her.
Utahime snorts. âOkay. Stick to metal.â She blinks. âOh. What about this one?â
The price tag makes you internally cringe, but then you actually look at it, and you immediately know you want it. You have the money saved up for it, anyway. Itâs probably plastic, but itâs shaped and shiny enough to look like itâs made of diamond. At that price, it might be made of that off-brand diamond. The charm on the end is in the shape of a dragonâs head.
Excitement surges through you. You practically bounce over to a store worker to have them unlock the case and take the tongue ring to the register. As soon as itâs paid for, you skip out of the store and make a break for the nearest restroom. Just as you have it torn open and are washing it with hand soap, Shoko and Utahime burst into the restroom behind you.
âYouâre really excited about this,â Utahime remarks.
âAhh.â Shoko finally gets a good look at the tongue ring when you hold it up in the light. âNo wonder youâre so excited. Itâs like a little rainbow dragon.â
The tongue ring almost goes down the drain when you nearly drop it. Looking over your shoulder, you glare at her. âThatâs not it at all!â The defensiveness isnât helping your case, you realize, so you turn back to the mirror. âJeez, Shoko, not everything I do is about Suguru or Satoru! Can I not get something because it looks cool?â
In the reflection, you watch Shoko put her hands up in surrender. âWhoa, okay, I didnât mean to offend you, your highness.â
âInside voice, please,â Utahime reminds you. Then, to Shoko, she says, âSheâs right, yâknow. Not everything has to revolve around those two. A woman can dress up solely for herself. We know Duck isnât the type to make herself uncomfortable for someone else.â
Slowly, you move to face Utahime, expression blank. âWhat did you just call me?â
Shoko, smartly, uses Utahimeâs embarrassed stream of apologies as a chance to escape.
You need new fucking friends.
As you and Shoko meander your way up the main staircase that leads back to campus, she casually asks, âSo, whatâs going on with you and Gojo?â
Ha. As if youâd admit the truth. âWhat do you mean?â
âCâmon, pretty girl. Donât act like you havenât noticed how quiet Gojoâs been.â For a moment, you stupidly think that sheâll keep the focus on Satoru, but youâre not so lucky. âAs for youâŚitâs hard to explain because quiet is your default, but youâve been reallyâŚdodgy. Acting like a nervous wild animal that runs whenever someone gets close.â Oh, you are praying that she doesnât connect the dots. No dice. âThat someone is Gojo and Geto.â
âYou know how they are, Shoko. Theyâre always so touchy. I havenât been in the mood to deal with that,â you lie. Well. Itâs part lie. What you can and canât handle always goes day by day.
âNo, see, I know thatâs a lie. Like Utahime said, you never hesitate to tell us when youâre uncomfortable. If youâre having a bad day, you let us know about it.â Shit. âGeto and I are just trying to figure it out. This started after you and Gojo sparred. I thought maybe youâre scared of Gojo and Gojo is scared that youâre scared of him, but you two are acting weird around Geto, too. So, it canât be thatââ
You try to interrupt in as less a panicky way as possible. âIt really isnât that deepââ
âI thought it had to do with the giant crush that Gojo has on you, but like I said, heâs acting like a flustered virgin around you and Getoââ
âCrush?â Shoko holds out an arm to catch you when your foot catches a step the wrong way and you stumble forward. You jerk to face her, eyes wide with shock. âWhat are you talking about?! Are those cigarettes laced with something, Shoko? Do you need glasses or something?â
Shoko laughs. âSure, the person that struggles with social cues is going to lecture me.â
âIâm not dumb.â
âWhen did I say you were?â
âWhat I mean is that I could tell if he has a crush on me. Heâd act different around me, right? Satoru doesnât know how to be subtle. Since he acts no different around me than he does anyone else, the only logical conclusion is he doesnât feel any different for me, either.â
âI canât believe youâre coming at this like a math problem. No. Actually, I can believe that.â She rolls her eyes. âFirst of all, emotions arenât logical. Second, and more importantly, he absolutely acts different around you and Geto.â
You huff. âYou just proved your point wrong. If he has a crush on me, he wouldnât treat Suguru the same, would he?â
âAh. Wait. Youâre right. UnlessâŚooh.â She knocks one fist against her open palm as if sheâs had an epiphany. Youâre terrified to hear what sheâs come up with. âUnless heâs got a crush on both of you. Thatâs what it is. It makes so much sense. Oh, man. Iâve got to talk to Nanami and Haibara now.â
Your head is spinning. âNo, youâre not talking to them about this! I donât even think thereâs a word to describe how far youâre reaching right now, Shoko!â You shake your hands, desperately trying to get out your nervous energy. âLook, Iâd understand if he has a crush on Suguru. Theyâd be a hot couple, okay? But donâtâŚdonât bring me into this! ThatâsâŚanyway, isnât that cheating?â Your voice quiets. âIsnât thatâŚwrong?â
âItâs not like any of you are in a relationship. So, no, I donât think itâs cheating. I still wouldnât. Cheating is if the other person doesnât know youâre involved with someone else.â She shrugs. âI might be a biased opinion. There are a lot of people who say that me liking girls is wrong. So, if everyone cares about everyone else involved, then whatâs wrong with more than two people in a relationship?â
Oh.
Well, thatâsâŚ
You donât know what to do with all this.
âOkay, thatâsâŚthatâs true. I can understand that. Itâs like another one of those things that people worry about when thereâs no reason.â She nods in agreement. âYouâre still wrong about the crush thing, though. Why would someone have a crush on me? No one ever has. Why would they start now?â
âNo one has had a crush on you that you know of,â Shoko corrects cryptically. âAre we going to ignore you called them hot?â
âAre you blind?â
âNo. Iâm gay.â
âShoko, I like girls, too. It doesnât make you less of a lesbian if you admit theyâre aesthetically pleasing.â
âSure, but their personalities are so awful that it just ruins everything else.â
âAre you sure that this isnât just you being uncomfortable that itâs like looking in a mirror when you see them? You all have the exact same sense of humor. Youâre definitely as much of an asshole as them.â She bursts out in a fit of laughter. âYeah, yeah, keep laughing. You know itâs true.â
Shoko wipes at her tears of laughter. As she starts to walk forward again, she remarks, âYou talk big, pretty girl, but you can be an asshole yourself.â
***
If there was one thing that Shoko was right about, itâs that youâve been obviously skirting around Satoru and Suguru. For three nights straight, both your mind and body toss and turn as you try to figure out where this sudden awareness of their bodies is coming from.
Technically, youâve been through this before with Suguru, butâŚwas it to this degree?
Itâd been one of those rare days that you were allowed to work out in the fields with your parents. When youâd hunted Suguru down to not be so bored as you pulled crops, heâd been hunched over with no shirt on. It wasnât the first time that youâd seen him without a shirt, per se. Youâd both gone swimming beforeâŚ
Youâre not sure what it was. Maybe it was like how your grandparents, who lived in a different village, would remark on how much youâd grown between monthly visits. You would look in the mirror every day, so the changes in yourself were infinitesimal compared to someone that only saw you once a month. It couldâve been that, on that day, your brain had finally caught up on all the ways that Suguru had grown.
That skinny boy with his bony elbows and knobby knees and short, wild hair had grown. Heâd finally hit a growth spurt the year before and was taller than everyone else in the village now. He towered over you, skin golden and dripping with sweat. Heâd started to slowly grow his hair out and it was long enough to be pulled back in a stubby ponytail. He hadnât been as toned as he is now, but it was still enough for your eyes to follow along the subtle swell of his biceps.
Jeez, that had been the last year of middle school, you think. Are you having another one of those moments? Did Satoru get caught in the crossfire?
The real question isâŚwhy arenât you as aware of everyone else at school as you are of them? Like you told Shoko, anyone with a pair of eyes can see that theyâre aesthetically pleasing. Youâve known that Suguru is a heartthrob since middle school. ButâŚso is everyone else at school.
Shoko is a bombshell. That beauty mark? That poster that had made you blurt out your attraction and caused your mother to smack you, youâre pretty sure the model had a beauty mark, too. Shoko has the whole femme fatale thing going on now that sheâs smoking. Itâs not like you can blame it on height thing, either. Nanami is as tall as Suguru, the both of them just barely under Satoru. Even with theâŚstoic loner vibe and haircutâŚheâs also very handsome. Ruggedly so. Haibara is boyishly handsome, too, and very fit since his family runs a dojo.
So, why?
Why is your body reacting like this to only them?
Itâs fine, you tell yourself. You can acknowledge that theyâre pretty. Thereâs nothing wrong with that. You are, as many adults have complained about before, a hormonal teenager. Itâs a little embarrassing, your body fixating on them, but you need some good old fashioned exposure therapy. You miss the normalcy that comes with them. Youâre bored without them around. Your brain will whip your hormonal body into shape.
The morning after youâve made your decision, you, admittedly, mightâŚgo from zero to a hundred. Despite your exhaustion from the lack of sleep, you think this will be a good day for your senses. Knowing that Satoru and Shoko are the type to show up at the last minute, you rush to meet Suguru on his way to class.
When you see him, back turned, head ducked as he looks at his phone, bag over his shoulder, your feet speed up. And then you throw yourself at his back, locking your arms around his waist, squeezing him tight. Suguru is so surprised that his phone clatters to the ground, yanking out his earbuds.
Suguru lifts his arm up, looking under it, and you poke your head out further to show him itâs you. âSorry,â you apologize meekly in regard to the fright. You crouch down to pick his phone and earbuds up.
âItâs fine,â he breathes out. âSomeone is in a good mood this morning.â
âSorry,â you repeat. âI feel bad now. You ask me if I want to be touched. I really shouldâve done the same.â
âShould I renew my blanket permission? You donât have to ask me.â
âPermission renewed.â
Suguru chuckles lowly as he tries to turn around in your arms. You take a step back, letting him have room, but you donât make it very far. He snatches your wrist and yanks you back toward him, making you squeak in surprise. He wraps you up tight in his arms. Your body is tense, you know, only made worse by the rapid beat of your heart and heat prickling across your skin, but youâre trying not to act weird.
âSorry for beingâŚâ You donât know how to describe it without being incriminating. âMy head has been in weird places.â
âWhy havenât you talked to me about it?â
âItâs embarrassing,â you mumble before pressing your face against his chest.
âSince when did you start to feel shame?â Suguru teases. You dig your fingers into his side meanly, knowing itâs a spot that gets him squirming. Sure enough, he tries to wiggle away from you. âCut it out,â he demands with a laugh. You do as he asks. âLet me be serious, Squid. I want you to talk to me, okay? Have I ever made you feel like you couldnât be yourself or say what you want around me?â
ââŚno,â you admit after a pause.
âWhy start now, then?â His grip around you goes unbearably tight. He buries his face in your hair and confesses, âI was worried that I scared you with how rough I got with Satoru.â
âSuguru!â You fist your hands in the front of his blazer and shove him away enough to make him look at your face. âThat might be the most offensive thing youâve ever said to me!â His brows furrow in confusion. You nearly shake him. âI will never ever be scared of you, okay? I think itâs physically impossible for my body to think of you as a threat.â
Suguru raises his arms in defeat. âOkay, okay. Iâm sorry, Squid. I didnât think youâd take it so personally.â
âYouâre the most important person to me. Why wouldnât I take that personally?â You step back and cross your arms over your chest. âHow would you feel if I asked if you were scared of me?â
âIt might actually be physically impossible for you to look scary.â
âNever mind. Iâm not talking to you anymore,â you declare with a huff before you start stomping away.
Suguru chases after you with a laugh.
The next day, in the late afternoon, youâre on your way to the bus stop, planning to head into the city for something to eat. You like this bus. Since the schoolâs campus is so far out, the bus is smaller, and thereâs only one seat per aisle. No one will sit next to you. You donât have to make small talk, either. You finally dropped money for a MP3 player, so when you have earbuds, youâre simply written off as a rude teenager and usually arenât bothered.
At the torii gate, though, your dinner plans change because Satoru is waiting for you with your sweatshirt over one arm and a bag of takeout dangling from his other hand.
The two of you sneak inside an empty classroom, glowing orange with the afternoon sun. He shoves a desk in front of the one you sit at, giving you both room to eat the ramen he bought. Wordlessly, he passes you the sweatshirt. At first, you were confused over how he even got it, but you realize itâs the one from when you two sparred. Itâs still warm, you think, and smells like the really expensive laundry detergent.
Unthinkingly, you shove your face against the fabric, taking a lungful and soaking in the soft warmth. You rub your face against it. Satoru snorts before he speaks directly to you for the first time inâŚa few days, probably. âItâs like looking at a kitten.â
âThatâs rich when youâre cuddling with those soft Digimon plushies,â you grumble. You carefully fold it up and shove it down in your bag. âYou didnât have to wash it, yâknow. What? Did you spill something on it or stain it or something?â
Satoru shouts, âNo!â His face is bright red, though. The reddest that youâve ever seen it. Itâs answer enough.
âDonât be so defensive. Itâs okay if you did.â Your leg is bouncing from nervousness. This is so bad. You shouldnât be nervous around best friends. âAre we done being weird around each other?â
He is pointedly not looking at you as he divvies out the plastic containers. âIâmâŚumâŚI guess I should apologize first. I didnât scare you or anything, did I?â
You blink, honestly confused and trying to figure out why youâd be scared. âIt was just Blue?â
âYeah, but stillâŚâ
âI knew you wouldnât hurt me.â You break your chopsticks apart but pause. âIâm more disappointed than anything. Using your technique because youâre too lazy to walk and get my sweatshirt? What if the school was suddenly attacked and you didnât have any cursed energy left because youâve been flinging it around everywhere?â
Satoru rolls his eyes. âDo you even know how much cursed energy I have? Using it here and there isnât going to kill me. And what kind of hypothetical is that, anyway? This is the safest place in the jujutsu world.â
âThe Special Assault Team could storm campus with machine guns or something.â
âOkay, then Iâd have Suguru use Hong to deflect the bullets while something else in his arsenal eats them.â
You shake your head. âAnd heâd do it, too. For all the lectures he gives you about being spoiled, heâs the worst.��
âHeh! So do you,â he sings.
The worst part is that heâs right. Still, you feel the need to defend your honor. âWho can say no to the jujutsu worldâs prettiest princess? Lord Gojo is such a demanding little thing. No one wants to deal with one of his tantrums.â
âI know youâre trying to be an asshole, but I am the prettiest princess in all the land.â
The two of you continue to make innocent jabs at each other while you eat. In the middle of dinner, Suguru texts, asking where you are and what youâre doing. You tell him, knowing that heâll be here sooner rather than later. Sure enough, not even ten minutes later, heâs at the doorway in baggy sweats and a big white shirt. His long hair is down, still dripping. Did he seriously come here from the showers?
You swallow, a lump in your throat. Itâs fine. This is fine. His nipples are hard and poking against his shirt, but thatâs a natural bodily response. Just like how you squeeze your thighs together.
Fuck. You need to run your mouth before this gets weird. âYou need to blow-dry your hair. Youâll get sick, walking around with wet hair.â
Suguruâs eyes narrow. âAre you lecturing me? Miss Barefoot-in-Snow?â
âI like to see my footprint in the snow and the crunch is nice.â
âWear socks, at least.â
In unison, you and Satoru give a scandalized, âAnd have wet socks?!â Youâre too busy shuddering at the thought, so Satoru continues on your behalf. âItâs like you want her to die!â
âRemind me to put my blazer over any puddles that you might have to step in, Lord Satoru,â Suguru says dryly.
âMore proof to the princess allegations,â you mutter.
Satoru harrumphs. âI never denied being a princess.â
Suguru fully steps inside the classroom, approaching you both, grabbing a chair along the way. âI donât even want to know.â
***
A month of normalcy passes, and you naively think that all is right in the world once again.
Itâs been an exhausting day.
As it happens when the weather starts to warm up, cursed spirit activity is on the rise again.
For Nanami and Haibaraâs first mission, you are the one tasked with their supervision. You werenât anyoneâs first pick, but there was no other choice. The more experienced sorcerer assigned was called away last minute to handle a higher grade. Thereâs a situation somewhere in Hokkaido, potentially Special Grade. A lot of sorcerers have been seriously hurt, so Shoko went with Satoru and Suguru.
You were given one hell of a lecture when you argued with Sensei about him going with the first years instead. A chance to study a Special Grade? You didnât want to pass that up! Then, maybe you hadmade a bitchy remark about how a potential promotion to principal is getting to his head.
Anyway, the assignment with the first years went fine.
You were lectured yet again, this time by Haibara of all people. Thereâs a possibility that youâŚsort of pacified everything in the area. In your defense, the briefing said there would only be a pack of low-level spirits. A separate, higher graded spirit mustâve been close by, heard the violence, and slipped past the veil to get in on the action. When Nanami was smacked away with enough force that he cracked the wall he landed against, you panicked.
Ugh. Youâre definitely not beating those Mama Duck accusations anymore.
You force yourself through dinner with them because you wanted to be polite and felt like you owed them since you cut the mission short. Itâs dusk, almost night, but the lights of the city and restaurant are still too bright. They decide on a place thatâs packed and so loud. By the time you three step outside, you have a pounding headache and nearly fall asleep against Nanamiâs shoulder because youâre drained.
After youâre showered and dressed for bed, you flop back on your mattress with a weary sigh. On instinct, you reach for your cell phone, checking for any new messages like you have been the last three days. Itâs late. You donât expect much from them. Satoru used Blue at maximum output three times, Shoko reported. Suguru swallowed the curse when it was weak enough. Satoru will be wiped out and Suguru will be in bed immediately to digest the curse.
Everyone has been sending you pictures. The most recent and most likely last batch of the night are from Shoko. One that shows three bottles of nail polish, one that shows Suguru and Satoru hunched over as they paint their nails, a zoom-in of Satoru with his tongue poking out in concentration, and the last a shot of everyoneâs finished nails. Satoru chose an electric blue, Suguru went with black, and Shoko has a baby pink color.
You spend way too long staring at that picture. Thereâs something in the pit of your stomach, seeing Shokoâs hand so close to theirs. Itâs small compared to theirs. You wish that it could be your hand there. You want to run the tip of your finger along the line of their prominent veins. Youâd hold both your hands up so they could press one of theirs against it, just to see how much they dwarf your own. What would the fit be like if you laced your fingers through theirs?
Your phone chimes with a text from Suguru. Face hot, you quickly back out of the conversation with Shoko, feeling guilty for a reason you canât pinpoint. As soon as Shoko told you that Suguru swallowed the curse, you immediately texted Suguru, wanting to check in and remind him to remember to grab some instant rice for the morning. Itâll be easy on his stomach. You made him send a picture as proof. After he did, he wanted to know if youâd eaten yourself. You sent a picture of your meal. Suguru hadnât responded to that text until now.
Iâm proud of you for going out. I always worry about you being lonely, his text says. Youâre about to roll your eyes at his mother hen tendencies, but then his next message rolls in. Be a good girl for me until I get back. Night, Squid.
The phone slips out of your hand, the edge of it landing painfully on the bridge of your nose. You jerk up from the mattress, clutching at your nose. Why is your face on fire? HeâŚhe was teasing, right? Be a good girl for me. TheyâŚthey were just some words. You shake your hands, trying to dispel the sudden surge of panicked energy. Be a good girl for me. Great. Thatâs stuck in your head now. Shit.
Goodnight, Suguru, you reply back with slightly sweaty fingers. Sweet dreams.
Eh. Theyâre never that sweet without you around.
IsâŚis thisâŚno. No. This isnât flirting. Itâs justâŚbeing a friend. Thatâs something friends would say, right? Yeah. This is just another roundabout way of saying that he misses you. Yeah, yeah. I miss you, too, you send back. Maybe some of Satoruâs sweetness can rub off on your dreams.
Fingers crossed. See? Friendly banter. If he was flirting, he wouldnât pull Satoru into the conversation, right? Iâll text you in the morning when weâre leaving.
Rolling over on your side, you curl up into as much of a ball as you can and shove your face against your pillow. You have to stop yourself when you realize youâre rubbing your feet together again because you canât fall asleep like that. Just go to sleep, you tell yourself.
Closing your eyes, you breathe in and out.
In and out.
In and out.
In and out.
Over and over andâŚ
âŚthe mattress dips down. One side and then the other. Youâre on your belly, arm shoved under the pillow that your face is still shoved into. You tilt your head to the side, eyes still closed, too exhausted to open them. You know these bodies that press up against each side of your own.
Someoneâs hand presses against the small of your back and itâs almost like lightning shoots up your spine. In nothing but your sports bra, itâs bare skin against bare skin. But thatâs nothing compared to the rush that comes when he leans down to press a kiss to where his hand previously was, so close to your ass, to yourâŚ
âBe a good girl,â Satoru quietly sings as the tips of his fingers land on the back of your calf. Your fingers are clenching the sheets. You gasp as his fingers teasingly begin to meander up your legs. Dancing around your inner thighs. âMm, youâre the prettiest princess in all the land.â Oh. Oh. Heâs so close. Heâs going to feel how wet you are. âHeh, hell yeah, I am. Are you as pretty down here as you are everywhere else?â
âSatoru,â you gasp before you shove your face back against the pillow.
Another hand splays around the back of your neck, slipping up and around, cupping the side of your face. When he guides you to turn your face back toward him. A thumb runs along your bottom lip, dipping inside your mouth. Just a tease, though. Youâre the one that sucks it back into your mouth.
âSuch a good girl,â Suguru whispers against your ear. âSweet girl.â He pulls his hand away, fingers teasingly running along the band of your sports bra.
âSuguru.â
âLet us handle it.â
And your eyes open before theyâre closing again. Youâre rolling your face against the pillow. As youâre clinging to the last vestiges of your dream, you donât quite yet comprehend that itâs your hand shoved down your shorts. The line between dream and reality is a blur.
Sheets tangled around your legs are what you imagine what it would feel like to have theirs around yours instead. Your warm breath that fans out across your face as youâre panting against your pillow could be mistaken as theirs while theyâre whispering into your ears. The heat inside you is almost unbearable, pitching up into a fervor, only spurred on by the desperate rolling of your hips. Itâs like liquid fire rushing through your veins, burning and burning as you hump your hand.
Finally, blissfully, you are overwhelmed by pleasure.
It all crests. Your entire body locks up and trembles. In an attempt to chase after the addictive yet fading sparks, you try to jerk your legs up to get up on your knees, but itâs too soon after your limbs were locked up. Your leg painfully cramps and throbs and youâre fully thrown out of the dreamâs clutches.
Clutching at your throbbing leg, you roll over on your back and stare up at the ceiling while you suck in shaky breaths.
What did you do?
What did you just do?
All you can really think to do is shout, âFuck!â
Youâre not there when they return the next day. Just before six in the morning, Sensei called you and said that you needed to report to Kyoto as soon as possible. If youâre honest with yourself, youâre thankful that you donât have to see them today which only adds to the guilt thatâs set in the pit of your stomach like a stone. Why couldnât this be like a normal dream that fades away before youâre out of bed?
A better questionâwhy did you have a dream like this to begin with?
Thereâs a Kyoto manager waiting to pick you up from the train station. Before you slip in the car, they hold out a hand. âIâll need your phone.â
âExcuse me?â
Their eyes seem cold, but you try to convince yourself thatâs not the case. You donât do well with catching on to how other people feel and often mistake cold with cordial. âYouâll be meeting with a few of the higher-ups.â Your eyes widen. And you have nothing to be in trouble for, but your heart rate picks up regardless. âThese meetings are expected to be kept private, but your phone is confiscated as a precaution.â
âThe higher-ups?â The manager nods wordlessly. âWhy?â
âI wasnât trusted with that information.â The manager steps aside and motions toward the open door. âIâm your escort. Have you had breakfast? Theyâve permitted us to stop for something if you need it.â
You donât take the manager up on the offer.
The higher-ups are already waiting for you when you make it to campus. There are only three in the room, none of them speaking, only sipping at some tea. You recognize Principal Gakuganji, but thatâs it. Even worse, theyâre seated around a chabudai. Theyâre not close enough to touch, but itâs still a much more intimate setting than if they were all behind a desk with you in a chair across the room.
Gakuganji states your name and then motions to the empty spot at the chabudai. âSit.â
The three men introduce themselvesâGakuganji, of course, and the other two are elders of the Zenâin and Kamo clans. You donât bother to remember their given names. You doubt that youâd ever be in the realm of familiarity with these people and, yeah, maybe you canât read the room well, but you know they look down on you. Satoru has warned you about elders in clans and those high up on the food chain.
Superiority complex bigger than mine, Sketch, Satoru had said. And with nothing to back it up! Theyâre weak as hell! Even the geezers in my clan!
Gakuganji is the first to speak. âYaga should have instructed you to bring your drawings and notes. Did you?â
âOh. Um. Yes.â You reach inside your bag to pull out the sketchbook. It makes you twitchy when you place it on the table and Zenâin immediately reaches out to roughly grab it and slide it over in front of him. You try not to cringe when you see it slide through some tea that spilled over the rim of his cup.
Youâre not allowed to watch Zenâin long. Gakuganji asks, âIs that all?â
âPardon?â
âI was informed that you had multiple sketchbooks. Youâve kept them since before you entered Jujutsu High, correct?â
Zenâin grunts. âIs there any organization to this?â Your hands fist the hem of your skirt. The disgusted curl of his lip is downright offensive. You keep those pages clean. Theyâre not cluttered with doodles. You limit one curse to each page. Youâve always had neat handwriting. What more does he expect? âTch. Youâll have to go through and identify which are with Geto Suguru.â
A cold chill runs down your spine.
âHave some patience, Zenâin,â Kamo snaps. âWeâre here for more than that.â Kamo is the youngest which is to say that heâs probably barely hit the retirement age. He smiles at you. âI apologize on his behalf, young lady. Continue, please.â You suspect that heâs meant to be the one you warm up to.
Very suddenly, viscerally, you become keenly aware that youâve stepped inside a room full of snakes. Whatâs worse is that a misstep isnât going to poison you alone. Suguruâs shadow is in the room. You donât quite understand why your instincts scream danger. Normally, you wouldnât trust them. Something tells you that you need to right now.
âI threw those away,â you lie. Youâre a good liar. With a naturally emotionless expression and flat tone, people have as hard a time reading you as you do with them. âI only had one with me before I became a sorcerer, but I threw it away. It was full and I didnât see a need for it. It was too messy to be submitted.â
Kamoâs lips twitch. âItâs truly only that one?â
âThere are six-hundred blank pages, so I planned for it to last a long time. I have another one thatâs more personal. Just to work on my art.â You nearly breathe a sigh of relief. For once, your meticulous nature of keeping a hard line between what you use your sketchbooks for comes in handy. âHere.â You set your smaller, personal sketchbook on the table.â I apologize for not getting it out before. I thought you meant only what Iâve done with cursed spirits.â
Gakuganji takes your personal sketchbook, only briefly skimming through with pursed lips. âIâm sure youâve been told, but youâre expected to turn in your work to headquarters when itâs full.â You nod slowly. âWeâve been getting feedback about you, not only from Yaga but from other sorcerers. You were the one that helped with the Red Room Curse, yes?â
âYes.â
Zenâin snorts. âYouâre telling me that old urban legend was real?â
âWalk us through your thought process,â Gakuganji requests without acknowledging Zenâin.
âThe internet, in the scheme of things, is relatively new. In my studies, Iâve learned that cursed spirits tend to stay away from technology. They usually interact with it only to destroy it. So, the curse using the internet as a tool to curse and travel was a huge red flag to me,â you explain. âLegends and cursed spirits can go hand-in-hand. An existing spirit inspires a legendary monster or the negativity around a legend will create a spirit.â
âImaginary vengeful cursed spirits,â Zenâin grunts. âWe know.â
âNot always,â you correct curtly. His eyes narrow at you. âThereâs that old sayingâŚlegends have a sprinkle of truth to them. Itâs smart to look into these cursed spirits. An imaginary vengeful spirit could have actually started out as a regular vengeful spirit thatâs connected to an area or bloodline which is what happened here. Someone cursed a relative in the Taisho era, the spirit bound itself to a red journal, and gained power until it found an easier, faster way to spread itself.â
Kamo hums thoughtfully. âThere was another incident last week.â You already know the one that heâs talking about. âHas Yaga told you the outcome of the situation?â You shake your head. âDid the sorcerer on call with you explain what that cursed object was?â Another shake of the head from you. âThat was one of the fingers of Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, and you were right about the seal being weak. The seal was reinforced.â
âIâm glad.â
âHow did you know?â
âThe activity of the cursed spirits in the area,â you lie again. Rather, itâs not the whole truth. But youâre worried that the truth could come off as a concern for them.
When you were in the range of that finger, something inside you justâŚknew. The cursed energy that radiated from itâŚthere was a sense of anticipation. Itâd been disorienting because the spirits in the area had the same feeling, too. It left you reeling and jittery from secondhand adrenaline.
These men donât need to know that youâre feeling cursed spirits. No. Cursed energy. As the days tick by, youâre getting closer and closer to your dreadful theory being proven correct. You donât want the higher-ups to come to that conclusion, too. Youâre not sure what would happen if they thought you could influence anyone with a shred of cursed energy.
âWeâd like to offer you an internship of sorts,â Gakuganji speaks up. âEach of the major clans have a storage of cursed objects, tools, and weapons. We do this so everything isnât centralized to the school campuses, in case of a successful raid. Starting your third year, weâd like you to visit their main compounds and examine their collections.â
You catch yourself before you agree. âI would need cursed spirits to see how they act.â
âThatâs not a problem for the Zenâin. We have a pit full of them.â
Again, you bite back the urge to ask this man why the fuck his clan has a pit of curses. âThe pacification alters their behavior. It would only be effective if I hid myself from them, but that doesnât protect anyone else in the compound. I donât feel comfortable with that kind of risk.â
Kamo and Zenâin burst out in loud guffaws. The sudden noise makes you visibly wince. When they quiet, Kamo explains the hilarity by saying, âYouâll be in compounds with some of the strongest sorcerers in the world. We can handle some low grade cursed spirits.â
Your brows furrow. âWonât there be childrenââ
Zenâin rolls his eyes and waves off your concern with a callous, âThey need the practice.â
Is this seriously what itâs like to be born into one of these clans? These men are at the highest place in their clans, in jujutsu society. Better than anyone else, they should understand how rare sorcerers are. Why would they be so careless with the lives of their clansmen? You understand that this is ruthless work, and to coddle children can be a death sentence in itself, but this just seems cruel for the sake of cruelty.
Was Satoruâs world this cruel?
âIâd like a partner with me,â you force yourself to politely request. âPlease.â
âOne of the first years,â Kamo reluctantly agrees. Your mouth opens to protest, but he holds a hand up. âNo Gojo will step foot on my clanâs compound. As for the Geto boy, itâs pointless. His control over cursed spirits is as manipulative as your pacification abilities, right?â
âYaga says that Nanami Kento is showing promise,â Gakuganji adds.
âFor once, I agree with Kamo. Iâd burn my compound to the ground before I let a Gojo waltz in,â Zenâin spits on the ground, to which Kamo and Gakuganji make displeased noises. âAnd Iâm not adding more fodder to the army of that brat with the Curse Manipulation.â
An offer, they say, but even you with your struggles to grasp social cues knows that this isnât an option. No one in your position can say no to the higher-ups. With a smile thatâs probably more of a grimace, you grit out, âNanami will be fine.â
Sensei is in the longue outside the room where you met with the three elders. Said men who had been escorting you out, all rush on, leaving you in your teacherâs care. Not that you want to be around him right now. You might be more furious with him than the people you just met with. Sensei is next in line to be principal. Heâs essentially a liaison with Lord Tengen. Thereâs no way he didnât know what this conversation would be about. You wonder if heâs the one that suggested this.
Maybe youâre overreacting, but it feels like heâs stabbed you in the back.
Thereâs a lot that you want to say, but you wonât. Thereâs no point in it. Itâll only send you to your inevitable breakdown. You feel that rumble inside you. ButâŚmaybe you can get some answers out of Sensei before that happens. So, you demand to know, âWhy are they like that with Suguru? He hasnât done anything!â
Sensei drops down in a chair, sighing tiredly as he goes. âItâsâŚnot only Suguru. This is a lack of trust in anyone thatâs been marked as Special Grade.â
âWhy? What did they do that was so wrong?â
âDo you know what it takes for someone to be considered Special Grade?â
âAnomalies in the system,â you recite. His own words, you might add.
âYes, but thereâs more to it than that. The truth is that Special Grade sorcerers are those who have potential to devastate. Youâre a logical girl. You can understand that Suguru has access to an army. Satoru, when heâs at his full potential, will most likely be the strongest sorcerer of the modern eraââ
âFear,â you spit. âThis is fear.â
âYes,â Sensei confirms without a beat. âTheyâre afraid. Thereâs currently only one other Special Grade sorcerer. Before this generation, the rank Special Grade had only been reserved for cursed spirits. To suddenly have so many, and all at once, itâs only made the higher-ups more afraid.â He hunches over, putting his elbows on his knees. âItâs not fair, I know, but this is how it has to be. That much power comes with certain responsibilities.â
Your fists clench. âI understand that, Sensei, but whereâs the trust? All our lives, weâve beenâŚno one has ever trusted us. We came here because we wanted to be around people like us. We wanted to be accepted. Whatâs different between our village and here? Nothing. Sometimes, I think itâs worse. Weâre not weapons. Weâre people.â
âThey know that.â
At your breaking point, you shout, âDo they?!â Thereâs so much more you want to say. Iâm not spying on Suguru. Iâll lie on every single one of those pages that I send to headquarters. Somehow, you have the wherewithal to realize that thatâs not a smart idea. Sensei is on your side, but not as much as you thought before. Heâs chained by the higher-ups. âIâll make my own way back to Tokyo.â
And you make sure to slam the door on the way out.
As youâre storming out of the building, you throw your hood up and shove on your sunglasses. Youâre storming through campus with a trembling bottom lip and tears slowly trickling down your cheeks. You had hoped that it would be dead, but youâre not that lucky. There are a few students, a few more mature sorcerers, and you keep your head ducked down. Youâre biting your lip raw to hold back the sobs threatening to spill out.
You make it as far as the outside of Kyoto Highâs barrier before you canât take it anymore and duck off the path. You drop down on a small boulder and cry. Between gasping breaths and desperately trying to wipe away tears that wonât stop, you pull out your cell phone.
Because you canât do it. You canât be around strangers. A two-hour bullet train ride is too daunting. Thinking of the smells of meals that people eat to pass the time, of the noise from even whispered conversations that would be loud to your overworking mind, of only an armrest separating you from another person and how that would make your skin crawl. An even worse hell would be a grueling five-hour drive with a manager back to Tokyo.
Please come pick me up, you text with trembling fingers. Not even thirty seconds later, your phone is ringing, but you quickly deny the call. No, you rush to text. Canât talk, you add before he gets the wrong idea. Crying too hard to talk, you admit. The confession only makes you sob harder, of course. You can put your fist through monsters, but you canât talk on the phone with your best friend without bawling like a baby.
Okay, Suguru responds back. Iâll take Hong there.
Manta ray back? I donât want to be around people.
Whatever you want.
Thank you, Suguru.
Through the canopy of the trees, you see the glitter of Hongâs rainbow scales. Youâve managed to stop crying. And you thought that youâd be okay, but seeing the concern on Suguruâs face when he finds where youâve hidden yourself away just brings it all back.
At this point, itâs not even so much the meeting. This is pure frustration with yourself. Itâs shame and embarrassment. Just a little stress and you buckle. You hate this body. You hate this brain. Why canât you be stronger? Why canât you push yourself through the pain? Why does there have to be pain at all?
Suguru doesnât speak. He sits down in front of the boulder, leaning his back against it. You spread your legs, allowing his shoulders to fit between them. He knows your tights are a barrier from skin contact, so he can freely lean his head to the side, resting against the inside of your knee.
Then, Suguru waits in silence.
You need his rock-solid presence but canât bear him watching you in this pathetic state. It only makes things worse. Normal people would want to be comforted, to be hugged, but thatâs just more stress. You canât talk like this, so you feel stupid. You feel eyes on you, so you cry harder because youâre ashamed that you got here in the first place. If you were back on your campus, you would hide yourself away in your room until youâre calm. Thatâs not an option here.
AndâŚand Suguru knows this. He knows you. He wonât look at you, wonât acknowledge that youâre breaking down. Why are you so kind? You think of those three stupid, old men. How can you be afraid of someone so kind?
âSuââ you choke on his name. You canât speak past the lump in your throat. Angry that you canât even manage his name, you ball up your fist and start banging it against your thigh. Like that can make your body cooperate. OrâŚitâs punishment. It might be that.
âSquid,â Suguru whispers as he reaches out to gently take your wrist. âI know youâre mad at yourself, but donât do that. Why donât I tell you about the cursed spirit we saw? We can make a game of it. I try to describe it. You try to draw it.â You shake your head furiously. âYouâre stuck in the loop, arenât you? Donât you want out?â
The loop, you call it. The way youâre stuck in an endless cycle of berating yourself for being like this. Youâll never stop unless you have a distraction and his presence isnât enough.
When Suguru hands you your sketchbook and a pencil, you take it.
There are a lot of tear stains on the paper by the time you calm all the way down, but it does the trick.
âEh? That doesnât look like it at all,â Suguru mutters when you hand him the finished product. âI didnât think I was this bad at descriptions,â he remarks with a chuckle. âStill cool, though.â Slowly, he gets to his feet, patting his pants down to get all the dirt off. He turns around and holds out a hand to you. âReady to go?â
You take his hand as an answer.
You donât let go.
Suguruâs eyes widen a little when you thread your fingers through his. The two of you stand there for a minute before heâs squeezing your hand and guiding you back out to the main path. A manta ray spirit is waiting there for you both, low enough that you can step on it. Youâre forced to let go of his hand, but you donât want to lose that point of contact. Youâre seated behind him, cross legged. You slip your arms around his waist from behind and press your forehead against his back.
Suguru covers his hands with yours and never stops during the whole ride back.
***
You decided that you wouldnât tell anyone about the details of that meeting until you absolutely had to. The parts of it that you had to agree to, anyway. You wonât talk about them wanting you to spy on Suguru and keep track of his spirits because youâre not doing that. Itâs an invasion of privacy that you refuse to be part of. Unlike the higher-ups that see Suguru and Satoru as tools to be kept track of, theyâre your best friends.
Eventually, theyâll notice that youâre not marking which spirits are his. Youâve already started to come up with excuseâyou forgot, youâre too focused on capturing the spirit on the page, you had it in your mind when you were preparing them to be sent to headquarters but forgot it. Theyâll catch on, probably. After that, youâll just lie. And it kills you inside a little, but youâll have to stop marking the date on them. It really will make it harder to remember which assignments were with Suguru and which werenât.
Suguru knows not to ask you about what made you so upset. Maybe heâll give a half-hearted try in a week or two, but itâs too fresh. Youâll only get upset when you remember all the negative emotions that came with a breakdown. The only smart thing those old bastards did was to have you meet with them on a Friday.
Itâs Sunday now and you feel a little better. Your defiance has helped mute your anxiety a little, you guess. After going the rest of Friday and all of yesterday without speaking, you think you can manage it today. Words donât feel as heavy. Itâs not as much a daunting task as it was before. Just like going to spend time with Satoru and Suguru is a little less tiring. Thatâs the thing, you love to hang out with them, but it still drains your battery. It doesnât drain as fast or as much as it would if you were around some random strangers, but down goes that metaphorical battery all the same.
Satoru is already at the meeting placeâone of the many koi ponds sprinkled around campus. You donât want to deal with grass against your skin today, so you spread out a spare blanket from your room. Satoru hums before heâs scooting over to sit down on the blanket next to you.
The two of you are side-by-side, watching the occasional koi break the surface with a splash. Itâs quiet. Peaceful. Satoru rocks back and forth, fidgeting with the hem of his pant legs. Youâre not surprised when he finally asks the question because youâve been expecting it. âAre you okay?â
âBetter,â you answer honestly.
âDo you wanna talk about it?â
âNo.â
âOh.â From the corner of your eye, you see him frown. âIs itâŚbecause itâs me? I know Iâm not good withâŚfeelings and stuff. I can just fuck off if you wanted to just spend time with Suguru and talk and stuffâŚâ
You smile. Itâs small but sincere. âItâs not that, Satoru. If I wanted to talk about it, Iâd feel okay doing it with you, too. But I donât want to do that. I donât want to cry again.â
He cringes. âYeah, I donât want you to cry, either.â Heâs at the edge of the blanket and starts picking at blades of grass. âIs there anything I can do so that doesnât happen again?â
âNo,â you answer honestly. Youâre surprised to see him flinch, like youâre hurting his feelings. He usually has thick skin. Ah, but heâs also used to being the answer to everyoneâs problems. You donât think thereâs much that he canât do. âThe breakdowns are a part of me. Thereâs always going to be a potential to have one.â You pause. Youâd rather not have him stress over this. âI can try to ask for help before it gets to that point, though. I donât knowâcan you extend Infinity to protect others?â
âHa, no. Not yet.â
âWellâŚI could use your blackout glasses? Light makes me the most sensitive.â
He nods slowly. âYeah, same.â
âI wonât use them, then.â
âI can handle it for a little bit if itâll make you feel better,â he mumbles. âI kinda get what youâre going through. I used to get super overwhelmed when I was a kid, before I could control Infinity. I would get really angry, though. There were a few times that Iâd grit my teeth so hard that Iâm shocked now that my teeth didnât get chipped. I guess a part of me was scared to cry in front of tutors, so Iâd be angry instead.â
You do the thing that Suguru stopped you from doing when you were in the midst of itâbeating a fist against your thigh. âI get mad, too. Just at myself.â Your brows furrow. âOh. I get angry before that point, I think. Sometimes, when Iâve been by myself, Iâve punched walls.â
Satoruâs shoulders slump. You thinkâŚis that a sigh of relief from him? âI donât feel so bad now,â he admits embarrassedly. âThe clan was kind of understanding how sensitive I am with lights because of the Six Eyes, butâŚthey never really got how much everything else built up.â Heâs fidgeting even more, uncharacteristically nervous. âI never wore tabi socks with my yukata when I went out, in case there was some water somewhere. I hate how clothes feel on my skin when theyâre wet. ItâsâŚclingy.â
Itâs slowly dawning on you. Curious, you ask, âHow do you feel about cotton balls?â
You watch a shudder roll down his spine. âAfter my first cavity, I made sure Iâd never get another one. I almost sent the dentist across the room with Blue when he put those things in my mouth.â
âEye contact?â
âUgh, I hate that stupid shit. My old man meets with people from other countries, and theyâre obsessed with it. Iâm so lucky Iâm in Japan.â He sticks his tongue out in disgust. âI wish I was around you when I was a kid. The sunglasses idea saved my life and my reputation. Now, people canât figure out where Iâm looking.â
âReputation? You have one of those?â
âRude,â Satoru complains and pokes you insistently. âPeople think youâre all sweet, Sketch. Youâre as much of an asshole as I am, yâknow. People just forgive you because you have that pretty face and cute smile. Itâs the same with Suguru, too. Youâre both the golden kids!â
Your heart skitters at hearing pretty face and cute smile, but he included Suguru. Itâs just an observation. An exaggeration in your case, definitely, but whatever. âItâs not being an asshole. Iâm just blunt.â
âSo am I!â
You roll your eyes. âOkay, and Iâve also studied other people, so I know whatâs too far.â You hesitate. âUsually.â Another pause from you before you finally settle on a reluctant, âSometimes. But definitely more than you.â
Heâs pouting at you. âYou could be nice and teach me.â
âYou donât care enough to learn.â
âI care about people!â
âI know that.â Hmm, how do you explain it? âIâve kinda learned from seeing you interact with Nanami and Haibara that you use that bluntness as a way to help. Put you and, say, Suguru together. You both see the same flaw and point it out. Youâre not as nice as Suguru, but you donât waste time with niceties. Theyâre there to learn and be critiqued. Itâs not a good idea to inflate their egos. That gets people killed.â
Satoru nods enthusiastically. âSee? See! You get it!â
You rush to add, âButâŚyou should give them encouragement. It sucks to constantly be told how youâre not doing things right. I know that way too well. Just ask Suguru.â
âYouâre way too soft for this line of work, Sketch.â
This day is important, though you wonât realize that until much, much later. But isnât that how life is? Hindsight being twenty-twenty and all that.
Today is the last day that you will see Satoru and Suguru smile genuinely for a very, very long time.
#my fic#jjk fanfic#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#geto x reader#satosugu x reader#jjk gojo#jjk geto#autistic gojo#autistic reader#gojo smut#geto smut#jjk smut
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I was rereading the Whumptober prompts and I just wanted to warn you...
It looks like your boy is getting necrosis on October 16. Sorry.
So...now it's your turn to ramble >:D
Why is Legend your favorite?
oh poor Legend! How dare he get whumped! What a cruel cruel world... (GET WHUMPED LEGEND!!!!)
I'm turning this question into "how did Legend become your favourite" because... I can. And honestly it kind of just plays into how I got into LU as a whole.
I didn't even have Tumblr a couple years ago. I was browsing Pinterest and I found the "Malon" mini comic in one huge post. So, I read it and I really liked it. I've liked LOZ for a lot longer and I found the concept of all the Links meeting to be really cool.
And I started finding more. I found parts to the main fic all over Pinterest and saved basically whatever I could find. But I eventually wanted to make sure I was reading the comic properly and in order and I didn't want to miss updates so I got Tumblr for that reason and that reason alone. I got Tumblr about a week after sunset part 11 was released. I remember that very vividly.
Now for the big question... Why is Legend my favourite?
No idea. I never played any of his games before i knew about LU other than LA. Which I didn't even like all that much the first time I tried playing it. I liked the ALTTP and Oracle mangas but that was my only connection to Legend. There was never any specific moment I started liking him from what I remember. I think it mainly started because he has had a lot of significant moments in the comic. Like divine dark reflections was very centred around him.
I've always liked his type of character to begin with and so I guess his personality drew me towards him the most. I've grown to understand his character more but he seemed a lot more grumpy and uncaring when I didn't have a way to read LU in order, which... I guess I liked? (I also have a history with characters that have Pink/Red hair... which is odd)
Legend just kind of stole my heart and attention more than the others and now he's my favourite without a doubt. I have no Idea when or why, but he just... did
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Elucien Fanfic Crossword Answer Key- One Shots
How did you do? It's our hope through this week of puzzles that folks are able to find an existing fanfiction that speaks to them! Consider these a small masterlist filled with recommendations from the community itself. Below you'll find every fanfiction recommended attached to the author who created it, added in the order they were submitted! Fics were also categorized to their best of our ability. Check them out below!
Heading Straight to You by @lucienarcheron
Inspired by a tumblr post I've also linked below: "I need elain to have her anthony bridgerton moment where lucien asks if she wants him to sever the bond and leave & she goes âdo you think thereâs a corner on this earth that you could travel to far enough to free me from this torment? you are the bane of my existence. and the object of all my desires."
So I decided to give elucien their own bridgerton moment :) Enjoy!
Hot and Clumsy by @witch-and-her-witcher
Feyre had warned him against falling into bed with her sister - but why hadn't she warned Lucien against the greater threat?
Of falling deeply, madly, inconceivably in love with Elain Archeron.
or
Lucien catches feelings bad in the yoga studio.
full moon, white honey by @shardminds
The worn parchment that had once held a recipe lay untouched in her quarters. She no longer needed it. Celandine, White Myrtle, Brain of a Drowner. Crush, Boil with Spirit, Bottle once cooled. Thirteen words seared into her bones. For the Witcher who too often showed her his.
all is for love, is for mind by @shardminds
Lulled by the song of the wind as it called through the valley, Elain watched the clouds form impossible shapes, carried on the same breeze that cooled her heated skin, and asked the only question she had left.
âWhat does love feel like?â
Letters by @nocasdatsgay
Lucien takes the brunt of Koscheiâs curse and using her powers Elain sees the key to saving him is somewhere in the stack of letters heâs sent her over the years.
Hover Corte by. @areyoudreaminof
On her own self-imposed exile, Elain finds herself in the human lands to offer help to the Band of Exiles and try to make some progress with her estranged mate. Lucien, meanwhile, canât quite find his footing with Elain. With the clock ticking, can they finally come to an understanding?
This Time, I'm Ready by @lucienarcheron
Inspired by Long Story Short by TS. I was listening to it randomly and a scene of Elain started playing out in my head. Recommend listening to it while reading :)
A Heartbreak in Mid-December by @climbthemountain2020
Lucien gets rip-roaring drunk after yet another failure of a Solstice and spends some time reflecting on the events that led him here. He decides that perhaps it's time to let go of the bond once and for all.
OR
ClimbTheMountain2020 couldn't stop picturing Elucien scenarios while listening to Neck Deep.
A Cut Above The Rest by @crazy-ache
âWait!â Elain clambered to her feet, jumping off the bed. He looked at her expectedly, dagger in one hand and a handful of hair in the other. What was there to say? That she had always secretly adored his hair just the way it was? That he couldnât possibly cut it before she even had the chance to run her fingers through it? âLet me do it,â she said.
While on the run in the Continent, Elain and Lucien must discuss what has remained unspoken after a frightening incident.
Desperately Waiting by shipatfirstsight
She tries not to think about Lucien
And now good-morrow to our waking souls by zipadeea
âGood morrow to you, little Lucien,â Rhysand crooned as he stepped forth from the shadowy ether, watching Lucien stand slowly and brush the grass from his trousers. âHere to treat with me again regarding my bargain with Feyre darling?â
Lucien took a deep breath, willing the need to punch the smirk off Rhysandâs smug face out of his body.
âNo. Well,â Lucien said thoughtfully. âYes. I suppose. I want you to keep her. Donât bring Feyre back at the end of the week. Keep her in the Night Court.â
***
Lucien tries to save the three Archeron sisters. He fails.
Cinnamon and Honey by @velidewrites
Lucien has long given up on his crush on Elain Archeron â until she drops by his flower shop to return a bouquet from her now ex-boyfriend.
I Can't Help Myself From Looking At You by @tuzna-pesma-snova
Years have passed since Elain had last seen Lucien and since she had broken the bond. But once all High Lords get invited to Nyx's 18th birthday party their encounter is inevitable. Will this encounter change everything or not?
Rita's Shenanigans by @vulpes-fennec
Hoping to break the ice with her mate, Elain enlists her familyâs help in setting up a night out at Ritaâs. A post-ACOSF, Modern AU (with Fae lore).
Troublesome Child by NovaComette
Rhysand and Feyre left for the day and it's up to Elain and Lucien to take care of Nyx. And what hell of a day they'll have to deal with.
Help! I'm Fainting by @sunshinebingo
âI need a healer,â Elain loudly exclaimed. âWhat!?â Lucien pulled his chair back in a panicked state. Was she sick? What was â Elain reached him before he could stand and oh so gently dropped herself on his lap with a breathless, âHelp! Iâm fainting.â
...
When his mate barged into his office claiming to be sick, Lucien had to find out what she had and how to take care of her.
bet on me by @crazy-ache
Elain is caught sulking at her sister's mating ceremony. Lucien wagers a drinking game to prove who knows the other best.
âGo on. Tell me all about myself, Lucien Vanserra.â
And there is the matter of something charged sitting between them at the table. He was challenging her. An invitation for friction, a consideration to be included in the joke, a bid to entwine in something deliciously improper. Elain could not remember the last time anyone had offered her anything remotely tantalizing.
Inspiration by @lucienarcheron
Prompt: Modern AU | Aspiring writer Elain Archeron is looking for some inspiration for her new novel when she happens to meet the perfect man for the job.
Forget Me Not by @lucienarcheron
Drunk Elain and her shenanigans.
in eternal bloom by @crazy-ache
On the quest to find the sixth mortal queen, Lucien Vanserra meets a human with brown eyes and that same stubborn Archeron nose. Together, on their search for Vassa, Lucien befriends Elainâs father, and learns a bit more about his mate.
I Like You by @fieldofdaisiies
Elain decides that she is ready to make a move towards Lucien. And yes, it is a bit sad.
Speak Now by @separatist-apologist
I am not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion. But you are not the kind of boy who should be marrying the wrong girl
put your lips close to mine (as long as they don't touch) by @belabellissima
But in the end, it didnât matter what Elain did to protect the puzzle - three pieces had been missing right from the start. They would never fall into place. Elain felt like that puzzle every time she saw Lucien, every time Feyre brought up his name, tried to push Elain into accepting him. She could see the image, see the outcome in her mind - the perfect life, the love, the children, the years together - but she wasnât whole. She was lacking those pieces - the one thing that would make her the full image of a perfect, doting wife.
Or: The author saying ace!Elain rights.
Metamorphosis by @starry-mantle
How a butterfly and some reference books lead Elain to reconsider the mate she's been trying so hard to ignore.
A Feeling So Peculiar by @rarephloxes
As Elain struggles to embrace her new body after being drowned in the Cauldron for political purposes she has never been privy to, she undertakes the gruesome journey to dissociate herself from whomever she has ever been or could ever become, Elain feels ready to do what it takes to quiet her mind and dull her senses. In her haste and need to flee while staying inside, she finds herself drawn to knowledge that will change the course of her destiny.
-
Or: The Healer!Elain fic
curses and gifts by @crazy-ache
In which Elain is cursed to live that fateful day with the Cauldron again and again and again. Until a choice is made.
lost in your current (like a priceless wine) by @withclawandvine
On Elainâs birthday Lucien sends her a gift. She decides sheâs going to put an end to these unwanted, unreciprocated presents once and for all. Instead, something begins.
Sunshine and Reunions by @shallyne
This Oneshot plays in the same Universe as Sunshine and Promises BUT you can read it seperately
Elain is sick and Lucien visits her
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part o - part iii
|| diluc ragnvindr x f! reader || E/18+ || hurt/comfort, fluff, post-trauma || wc: 16.2k  || ao3 || masterlist || NEXT â
You return to Mondstadt after many years away, sick, with an feeling that's all-too familiar and unwelcome.
â my heart, your song - @firein-thesky â
minors & ageless blogs dni
a/n: AH!! here it is :'^) the diluc fic!!!! thank you so much to @itoshisoup for beta reading (along with my non-tumblr pals han & ennis as well!!) this section contains four chapters, separated by partitions. if you'd prefer to read this fic with the chapters/parts separated, it will be posted as such on ao3!
this fic is a collab with the lovely cielo (@firein-thesky)!! our fics share a mostly canon compliant universe :3c give it a read!! it's linked above!!!
...
tags: alcohol use, descriptions of vomiting, reader with chronic injury, reader is referred to as 'little sister' by kaeya (not related), unreliable narrator/reader, soggy soggy SOGGY diluc, protective diluc, diluc and reader were childhood friends to lovers, reader is a healer
PART o: kismet
Once, on one of your several trips to Sumeru, you visited the Akademiya. You only went to poke at dusty books and sit in on a few lectures as a wanderer who liked a good story and a bit of learning. There, you met a scholar whose name didnât stick with you, from the Rtawahist darshan.
They had the far-off look in their eye of someone who had seen a bit too much, for who they were. You knew that some scholars went mad in their pursuit of knowledge. Saw things that they couldnât cope with even if they tried. Your new friend looked to be close to such a threshold.
Perhaps, in an act of pity, you took this scholar out for a drink. Or two. Or seven. The exact number of cups and goblets escapes you now. But what you do remember, as you sat together on a terrace high above Yazaha pool, legs swinging, was their ramblings.Â
âThereâs a map of everything, up there.â They gestured wildly to the sky, twinkling and bright, with the moon as company. âDeciphering it... Well. Thatâs another thing. But itâs there. And if we figure it out, fate will be in our hands to know.â
They continued, stretching their hands to the cosmos above them, as if their fingertips could decipher the orchestration of the Gods with nothing but passion, wine, and will. It was admirable, in your drunken state. Perhaps foolish to your sober mind.Â
Nonetheless, such an idea stuck with you. Even after you departed from your bygone friend, and continue your wanderings, you think about it. You laid on your bedroll more than once, staring upward, and wonderingâ
Why did the gods mosaic the sky?Â
You are just a mortal, how are you to know? You tried not to dwell on that specific thought. The one you find yourself coming back to, in your worst nightsâ
(If I could read the stars, and foresee a tragedy, is there any way for a calamity to be stopped? If you knew fateâs charted course, the crest of its fortune and the wake of its tragediesâ could you circumvent them?)
(Could you have stopped your calamity?)
It was a self-deprecating thought, and it dragged you back to a place and time that was both unpleasant and unnecessary to recall.Â
Thereâs no way to change the past, you reminded yourself. You could only move forward. Never back. You only balked at the stars in your weakest moments and pondered such ideas like fate and destiny. You could live in the illusion of carving your own destiny as you traversed Teyvat. One where you wrapped gauze around wounds after the disaster had passed. Heal sullied ground. You could do everything you could to help people. That was enough, you decided early on in your travels.Â
Youâd help people (and avoid the nation Mondstadt). Simple enough.
One foot in front of the other.
PART i: thereâs a puzzle we crafted
Youâre tired.Â
So tired.Â
Itâs a merciless type of exhaustion that you rarely, if ever, let yourself slip into. To wander Liyueâs peak and narrow paths in such a condition is dangerous, even if the Millelith and Guild did a decent job keeping settlements of Hilichurls suppressed. In general, you can take down slimes on your ownâ except when you find yourself this deliriously tired.Â
Normally, you donât even bother traveling in this state. You would drag yourself to the nearest village, throw some mora at a layperson and set up shop wherever they had space. Be that an inn, back room, or stableâ you arenât picky. As long as you could rest for a few days, perhaps help out the village in your spare time.Â
Your most recent wanderings, however, took you far onto the Yaoguang Shoals for several days, and by the time you returned to solid, proper earth, you were desperately low on essentials. Your nearest respite was an old village crawling with Hilichurls. Your next best option would be a miniature expedition onto the shores of Dragonspine and hope the cold wouldnât kill you before you could find shelter and stoke a fire.
So, you keep going. Â
All the way past Stonegate and the quarries beyond it. Youâre only half-lucid as you wander into Mondstadt for the first time in years.Â
You roost in an abandoned cottage some ways down the road. Finally resting for the first time in days. Never mind your still-damp bedroll or the structural unsoundness of the ruin. You practically fall to your knees and pass out, given your state.
(Running has made you tired, hasnât it?)
When you awaken, you ache. (Familiar). You nibble on the last of your rations and it hits youâ
Youâre back in Mond, arenât you?
Archons.
You should leave, really. Itâs your first thought when you realize where you are. You shouldnât be here. Youâre not even near the city proper, but a panic unfurls in your chest like youâve been struck. You immediately begin to pack up your thingsâ
Two things hit you then:
One:Â Youâre far lower on supplies than you had thought.Â
This isnât a new development, however. Itâs just far worse than you thought. You paw at the contents of your bag, realizing that the dried zaytun peaches and jerky you had for breakfast were the last of your rations. The weather had been poor across Liyue in the past weeks, and many of the normal markets you wouldâve run into were shuttered because of it. Regardless, you didnât think you were on your last fucking morsels.Â
Deep in your bag, all you have is a torn, unusable tarp and a pitiful handful of the crystalline shards you used to purify water.Â
You donât even need to look at your medicine kit to know the paltry state itâs in. Far too many empties.Â
Two:Â A burning sensation that splits you wide open and threatens to eat you alive.Â
You barely twist your foot the wrong way. Hardly at all. Regardless, something like liquid electro shoots from the twisted (broken, mutilatedâ) parts of your right foot, up your thigh, and shakes you down to your bones.Â
You stumble, using the wall for support and keeping your weight off the injury. It shouldnât be aggravated this early in the day. You shake it off from your ankle, lowering yourself to the dirt floor to massage out any of the tension and subsequent pain that you can. Youâll be able to walk, surely, but itâs getting harder and harder to deny that the old injury isnât worsening over time.Â
You remember, vaguely, hearing tell that there was a skilled healer in Mond once again. Younger, a Vision-bearer in the Church, maybe?Â
You know enough about the Church of Favonius that they would at least look at your injury, if this half-remembered healer really does exist and is affiliated with them.Â
You hate that Mondstadt seemed like the best option.Â
(Later, youâll realize itâs all a bit like fate, pushing you toward that stupid city.)
You find yourself at a loss, shake your head, and sigh, â... I guess it wouldnât... really be so bad to visit.â
Youâll just stay for a day or two.
...
Mondstadtâs front gate is so familiar it nearly hurts. The guards have different faces than the ones you remember from your youth. Their demeanor is the sameâ kind, open, like how people from Mond tend to be. They donât hound you too much as you pass, and you enter the city without issue.Â
Midday sun lights Mondstadt proper when you arrive (your journey from the quarries took a bit longer than necessary, considering your route went wide around a particular plot of land that you refused to go near.)
The city bustles with noise and activity. Merchants line the streets, carts and stalls overflowing. Seafoam banners and floral wreaths hang along the stone arches and walls, while garlands of fresh flowers stretch from building to building. The scent of fresh flowers, baking bread, and sweet wine envelopes you.
Windblume, you remember. It is spring, after all.
You hope the crowds of the festival will help you blend in as you meander through the city. You keep your head down, counting cobblestones and being quick with your purchases. Better to get in and out, probably. If you can snag a new tarp and bedroll, you could set up across the bridge for the night, and be gone by morning if you could track down that healer within the afternoon too.Â
As you walk up the main run of Mond proper, toward the fountain and the smell of warm spiced meat, someone, archons, gasps from behind you and says your name.
(Later, youâll recall this moment. Perhaps kismet turned on its axis for you to still andâ)
You freeze, going stiff. Youâd know that voice anywhere. Sweet and teasing, curling down your spine in a way that feels both ambiently flirtatious and horribly familiar.Â
Part of you screams to ignore her. Let her think she has the wrong person and continue your journey in Mond unimpeded by an old specter. You could be out the gates in a number of hours, if not minutes if you really need to (run, run, run).
But, thereâs a temptation. It breathes itself alive, from the back of your mind to the front, entirely unavoidable.Â
(How long has it been since youâve seen a familiar face? One that you know instead of just recognizing?)
You turn slowly. â... Hi, Lisa.â
...
And, somehow, you end up in the Knightâs of Favonius headquarters, with a perfectly warm cup of tea in your hands, nestled in a library you hadnât been inside for nearly a decade. It smells of old parchment and leather. Steam rises from your cup, fragrant with Sumeru rose and Guili cinnamon stick with black tea leaves. You recall the scholars of the Spantamad darshan favored this blend; you shared more than a cup or two during your visits to the Akademiya.Â
Lisa settles in the seat across from you, with a small box of pastries that look sticky and sweet. Your mouth waters.Â
âHow have you been, dear?â Lisa gives you a soft look. âItâs been so long.â
So long, you add to yourself. Sitting across from Lisa is giving you a gut-twisting sense of deja vu that has your palms sweating.
âIâve been well,â you say, gently. âTravelling, still.â
âOh, how exciting.â Lisa smiles and lays her cheek on her palm. âWhat was your most recent destination?â
You hummed. âI recently went to Natlanâs capital, just for a few months. I ended up staying with a smith who gave me odd jobs in exchange for housing.â
âOh, wow,â Lisa preens for you. âAnd before that? I apologize, dear, Iâm not caught up with your journeys.â
Ah, the lack of letters.
âI apologize.â You rub your forehead. âI havenât been writing lately. Itâs been... hard to keep track of things, though itâs not an excuse.â
âI would disagree.â She flashes you a sympathetic smile. âYouâve been crisscrossing Teyvat; it makes perfect sense why you would struggle to keep in touch with folks. Iâm sure youâve met plenty of friends on your travels, too. I imagine you have lots to juggle.â
Lisa is partially correct, you suppose.
âYou continue to give me so much amnestyâ too kind,â you laugh, and lean back in your chair.Â
Lisa looks a bit wistful as she puts down her cup in exchange for one of the pastries. You recognize the expression on her. Youâve only seen her wear it once before.
âHow long are you staying in Mond?â Lisa asks, nodding down to the box. You leave the treats untouched.
âNot long.â You refuse to look at her as you answer, âJust for the day. I needed some supplies and Mondstadt was the most convenient.â
Itâs a clinical answer. One you say intentionally, perfectly, so she canât poke holes in your logic. You hope, pray, she doesnât push back on your short visit. Any longer, and you might accidentally run into more faces you donât wish to see. Lisa was tangentially related to... everything, but she was the least obtrusive person you could have run into. Still, youâre in the lionâs den, in the Ordoâs HQ, for a cup of tea, praying that you can slip in and out undetected outside of Lisa.
(Itâs easier like this, you tell yourself. You canât get twisted up in this place again.)
Lisa examines you, tracing you up and down with her gaze in a way thatâs horribly disarming. If it was from anyone else, youâd think they were checking you out, especially with the sweet, upward quirk of her lips. But, this is Lisa, and you had forgotten how astute she is.
âOnly a day? Thatâs a shame.â She sighs, sitting back and stirring the tiny spoon perched in her teacup. âIt's Windblume. You should stay.â
âI could,â you muse and give her a sympathetic smile. âBut, I donât think it would be wise. It would be better if I got on my way quickly.â
She raises an eyebrow. âHow far back would a few days in Mondstadt put you on your travel plans?âÂ
âPlansâ.Â
You nearly bark out a laugh, but you keep it lodged in your throat.Â
âNot terribly far, but I... I donât want to stay, Lisa.â You reach across the table and squeeze her free hand. âIt isnât good for me to linger here.â
The look she gives you breaks your heart. Her brows wilt, her eyes get a little sadder, and she grips your hand unyieldingly. â... Are you sure, sweetheart? Iâm sure the Knights could put together some lodging for youââ
She presses, and you hate the feeling of it. You know her kindness is not misplaced, but it makes you roll around in your skin regardless. Archons. You interrupt her with a tight smile, âTruly, Lisa, I am grateful for the offer, but I will be on my way come tomorrow morning. Perhaps another year.â
âPerhaps.â
You sip your tea in silence for a moment. You stew, barely, not at her specifically but circumstance. It boils just underneath your skin, just as it has been since you entered Mondâs border. Speaking to Lisa has only made the feeling grow and burn.Â
You canât meet her gazeâ you canât. You can feel it on you regardless. You know youâll see more pity and maybe that familiar bite of anger she wields so well.Â
âWhy donât you tell me when and how you got that Vision then?â She nods low, down to your waist. Your dendro Vision hums there, tied to you with a fraying, braided string that desperately needs replacing.Â
There isnât a problem with indulging a bit of... this, is there? Youâre only sitting to chat. Drinking some tea. You can hunt for that healer and duck out of Mondâs walls by sundown. Easy. You pluck one of the buttery-looking pastries from the box and plop it on your plate.Â
âSure, but only if I can get a refill on this tea.â You smile and raise your cup.
...
You lose track of time, talking to Lisa.Â
You do tell her how you obtained your Vision, and of your subsequent journey through Snezhnaya to its port following your graduation. She tells you some of the new gossip of Ordo Favonius, and that sheâs been thinking about picking out a ring to give to Jean (though, she has a hunch the other already has one in mind. Lisa thinks it'll be fun to meddle with whatever precise plan the Acting Grand Master (nice) has in place.)
She continues to pour you tea and push more baked goods onto your plate. You enjoy them, and her company. Itâs a rare treat to sit down for so long with nothing more than chatting on your mind.Â
âHow was studying in Snezhnaya?â Lisa asked, eyeing your various bags. âCold, I imagine?â
âVery.â You grimace, fishing around in your satchel. âBut, worth it.âÂ
You pull forth a palm-sized metal insignia. You keep it tucked away, most of the time, only flashing the thing when necessary. You only need legitimacy every so often.
âOh, wow.â Lisa gawks a bit. âMay I see?â
You hand it to her. âBe my guest.â
She studies the metal, running her fingertips along the edges where the different colors meet. Vibrant blues meet greens and whites, with pink and purple flowers cast around the bottom edge. The shape resembles something between a shield and wheel, with each one of its seven portions having some meaning for the institution. They escape you now.Â
âIâve heard that the Tselostnyy School is quite the place,â Lisa says. âNo one at the Akademiya seemed fond of them, but I imagine it was out of some sort of insecurity.â
You snort. âProbably. Folks at Tselostnyy actually teach healingâ not just study the human body for the sake of some academic pursuit. The two schools have opposing goals.â
It was one of the main reasons you declined to apply to the Akademiya at all.Â
âIâm glad you found a place to studyâ I know it was hard, after Teacher passed away.â Lisa reaches out as she speaks, going for your hand.Â
You withdrew your own from the tabletop, hiding it in your lap. âIt was. But I managed.â
âManaged.â
Lisa gives you a look that drips pity. She looks as though sheâs going to reply, just as the door to enter the library clicks open.Â
Your gut drops to the floor and your shoulders stiffen.Â
âLisa? Could you proofread this draft for me? Iâm afraid I sound too formal againââ Itâs Jean, itâs Jean.
Itâs her voice, the distantly familiar click of her hard heels against the wood flooring. You bunch the fabric of your trousers in your fist, forcibly reminding yourself to breathe. Jean walks from behind you, rounds the table, stops at Lisaâs side and looks at you.Â
Jeanâs eyes widen.
âOh, sorry sweetheartâ Iâm a bit busy with a friend right now,â Lisa says easily, oblivious (seemingly, probably not.) She gestures to you and winks. âI can take a look after lunch, if you can take a break with me.âÂ
Jean says your nameâ gasping it more or less, tightening her grip on the document in her hands.Â
â... Hi, Jean.â You give her a little wave. âHow have you been?â
Itâs bittersweet, the feeling that curls and grows in your chest as she brightens and pulls up a chair next to Lisa. Itâs familiar and rotten, all the same.
...
The commotion in the library brings other visitors.
Lisa wears a smitten smile as other knights make their way into the library. Aramia and Flynâ they look older, long grown out of their adolescence and more into their skin. Hertha has crinkles around her eyes that grow tight when she recognizes who you are.Â
The Spark Knight barrels in the room being lazily chased byâ
Kaeya.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckâÂ
He scoops up the little knight and turns to the tea table, now surrounded by familiar faces, and you can see he has his lips pursed for some sort of teasing quip. Probably at the expense of the Ordoâs acting Grand Master and Librarian.
Then, Kaeya sees you.Â
You watch his jaw snap shut. Whatever clever thing he had to say dies on his tongue and you watch it. Itâs a little satisfying after all this time. Youâll cherish this moment, you think. The split second of confusion, the realization, the shock andâ the guilt.
He wipes the expression off his face easily, as if it were never there to begin with. But youâll revel in his discomfort. Your own little revenge, several years too late.
âOh, wowââ Kaeya whistles, clicking closer and settling Klee on his hip with a bounce. He says your name almost breathlessly. âLittle sister, itâs been quite some time. Weâve missed you.â
âDid you?â You tilt your head. âThatâs surprising.â
You hold your tongue. You dig your teeth into the sides of it, forcing yourself quiet. The feeling thatâs boiling in your chest wonât be extinguished by verbally thrashing Kaeya in the middle of the Knightâs HQâ but, Archonsâ
Itâs tempting.
ââSisterâ?â The little knightâs nose scrunches. âMister Kaeya, you said you only had Diluc, whoâs only kinda your brother. No sisters!â
âHeâs teasing me,â you placate her, voice sweetening. The little knight looks at you with wide eyes, a little awed. ââMister Kaeyaâ is an old friend of mine, we played together lots when we were little like you.â
An oversimplification, of course. Little Klee doesnât need to know what happened after the sun-swept days of sword fighting and house ended at the winery. Kaeyaâs air quickly fades as Klee squirms down and asks kindly for a hug. You donât think she can remember youâ you only held her once, when she was so smallâ but you know her kind age and remember so differently from your own.
âWhy are you in town?â Kaeya asks. âI thought Iâd never seen you within city limits again. Color me surprised.â
You lock your jaw, as Klee bounds away from you and wrestles her way onto Jeanâs lap, âPassing through, is all. Iâll be gone by morning.â
â... So, youâre not staying for Windblume?â Kaeya sits, pouring himself a cup of tea. You think you might hate him. âThatâs a shame.âÂ
âIâm not,â you clarify and roll your eyes. âThough everyone is insisting that I do.â
âYou really should.â Lisa takes the opening and insists, âIt would be lovely to have you.â
Of the group that has congested in the library, you only hear agreement. Jean has a bright look in her eye that makes you shy away.Â
âI... I really shouldnât.âÂ
âWhy not?â Kaeya grins, foxlike. You think he just likes making you squirm.
âDo you have somewhere to be?â Jean inquires, setting her chin on her fist.
âWell, noââ Thereâs always somewhere for you to be. You canât stay. You shouldnât even be here now.Â
âThen, stay.â Eula leans against the doorframe, entered at some point.Â
Youâre being thoroughly peer-pressured, it seems.Â
â...Iâm being bullied into staying for Windblume, arenât I?â
âPerhaps.â Jean gives you a sheepish grin. âYouâre missed, Windblume is just an excuse.â
You ache.Â
âStay in the city, enjoy some wine,â Lisa insists. âCatch up with folks. Iâd love to see more of you while youâre here. Iâm sure you have stories to share of your travels.ââ
You barter, â... If I do stay, I need to find a healer. I heard that thereâs a skilled one, living in Mond. A Vision holder.â
Jean opens her mouth, but Kaeya speaks first. âDone.â
You consider.Â
Youâre fully aware that your arm is being horribly twisted into staying for Windblume. You know this is unwise. Butâ
(Thereâs something to it. Something you canât admit it to, not aloud, not yetâ but being in a room full of people who do not see you as a stranger, but rather an old friend. They know your name, and you know theirs. Thereâs something to knowing the streets you will walk if you stay. Familiarity is a wretched comfort.)
âIf you need lodging, the knights could easily put you up in the dormitories,â Jean offers.
âNo, Iââ You sigh, scrubbing a hand down your cheeks. âI appreciate the gesture, but if I do stay Iâll camp outside the city.â
âSo youâre staying?â Kleeâs eyes shine.Â
âIââ
âIn that case, come out for drinks tonight,â Kaeya insists with a sly smile that makes you want to eat glass. âIâll buy a round.â
âWaitââ
âAngelâs Share does bring out its Windblume vintage tonightââ Lisa says enticingly.Â
âAbsolutely not.â You smack your hand on the table, far louder than you intend.Â
Kaeya cocks his head, amused. Lisa and Jean share a look, and the rest of the knights look a bit bewildered. You hate to raise your voice, but Archons, this crowd can be pushy.
âIâll stay. But Iâm not going to Angelâs Share.â Never ever again.
Lisa does seem to notice her error in suggesting it and gives you an apologetic smile. She reaches for your hand and squeezes. You feel a bit lighter.
âDiluc wonât be there,â Kaeya states. On the nose. âHe doesnât bartend on weeknights, even during Windblume.â
â... Really?â
âHe doesnât,â Eula corroborates. âI have knowledge as well that he is in the middle of merchant deals with a group from Natlan. There is no reason to think heâd be at Angelâs Share this evening, if thatâs your concern.â
You pick at the skin around your nails.Â
âIâll think about it.â
(You agree, by the time you leave Ordo HQ. After many other promises of free wine and dancing, you find it hard to refuse. It doesnât hurt that you confirm with multiple others that Diluc doesnât bartend on weeknights. That heâs been caught up in business, and hasnât been in the city much at all.)
...
You had enough mora for a few nights of lodging. You figured that Goth may have even given you a discount, as an old friend of his. Archons know how many times you worked odd jobs for him and his sons, patching up walls and the occasion twisted ankle or jammed finger.Â
After some searching, you find Goth in one of the many gardens of Mond proper. As happy as he is to see you, he regretfully informs you that he has no free lodging.Â
âWindblume has booked out all of my short-term properties,â Goth sighs. âUnless youâre looking for a minimum six-month lease, I donât have any rooms available.â
(Goth explains to you that the goddamn Fatui has rented out the entirety of his hotel... indefinitely? Upfront? Hence the lack of a room.)
You tell him itâs no trouble, wave off his concern. You donât mind a few more nights of camping. The only allure of an inn or hotel was the possibility of consistently bathing and a soft mattress.Â
You pick a spot outside of Mondstadt proper to set up your camp. There are many tents already set upâ travelers, like yourself, here for the festival. You recognize colors and fabrics from all over Teyvat. It warms something in you, that you arenât alone in being an outsider here.
(Such a thought feels wrong, because it is, isnât it? You arenât an outsider at all. This is your home. The only place youâre not an outsider.)Â
You struggle to set up your tent, and decide to leave it for later. Wandering around Mond for the afternoon aggravated your injury, and you instead take the time to poke around in your medicine kit for a quick tincture. Something to settle theâ
(Burning, screeching pain that tracks up your leg. Youâre grateful the other travelers arenât watching how you collapse against a pile of discarded crates, barely holding back a hiss of pain.)
(Itâs getting worse, isnât it?)
Teacher always said that nothing was harder on sickness and wounds than stress. It was a wisdom you remembered but barely heeded.
You use the dropper and place the tincture under your tongue. It tastes bitter and coats your throat as you swallow.Â
...
The sun rains gold on Mond as you meander toward the Angelâs Share. Liquid amber that coats the buildings and cobblestones. Itâs nostalgic in too many ways, and it makes something behind your ribs ache.
(Youâre hit with the distinct urge to run. To turn tail and leave Mondstadt forever, again.)
You shove it down, swallow it whole, and bear it. Bear it. Not forever, just for a few days. You can catch up with some old friends, leave any old scores unsettled and untouched (undisturbed, unthought aboutâ), and depart. Maybe even fix up your foot in the process.
You hesitate outside of Angelâs share.
It looks different than you remember. The door and its frame have been replaced, the door and its frame hardly ached. Thereâs a message board outside that you canât recall being there previously. A wreath hangs on the door, woven with blue and white flowers for Windblume.
You want it to be different. You do. Because if things are different, walking into Angelâs Share wouldnât feel so daunting. You could pretend that this horribly familiar tavern was someplace else entirely. Maybe even delude yourself into thinking that this little building was its own, unique, carved-out square during one of your travels. A fantasy where youâve never been here before.
(The warmth under your disgust wouldnât feel so misplaced then.)
You enter.
Itâs lively, bustling with patrons of all types with the festival beginning so soon. You recognize clothes and people from all corners of Teyvat, and it comforts you once more. You blend in easily, lingering near the door, and peek at the bar.
Diluc is nowhere to be seen. Another barkeep mans the kegs, barrels, and bottles. You donât recognize himâ which brings you some relief.Â
It would be easy. To be delusional about this whole thing. That Angelâs Share could be just a tavern in the middle of nowhere and the faces that are around you have no chance of being familiar. Youâre in a sea of folks who are travelers, just like, or mostly unfamiliar. You could, couldnât you? Tell yourself that this isnât a place whereâ
(You had your first drink. Learned how to mix cocktails with Crepus. Play fought Diluc and Kaeya in the rafters on the third floor. Where you last saw Dilucâ)
You clutch a hand to your chest. Who knew that emotional pain could be so violently physical?Â
Jean calls your name from across the room, pulling you from your stupor. You meet her eyes, and the smile you force to meet your eyes feels a little more genuine.
With the call of your name, several other patrons look up and gawk for a moment. You get a few more âoh hello!âs and âI didnât know you were in town!â thrown your way and you give them all sheepish smiles. Faces you canât place very well. Features and familiar expressions mutilated by time and a botched memory. It makes you feel sick to your stomachâ archons, and you havenât even sampled this yearâs selection of thousand-windâs wine, have you?Â
Jean flashes you a sympathetic look when you finally make it to their table. The table is flushed fullâ intimidatingly so. The knights have come out tonight. Lisa and Jean cozy up on the same bench seat, while Kaeya (die) and Albedo sit across from the two. You offer the alchemist a timid wave, which he returns in kind. Some of the other knights have spilled out to the tables around you, chattering away with wine-stained lips.
And the nightâs still young.
âI wasnât sure if youâd show,â Kaeya practically purrs (choke) and leans closer to you on an elbow. âWere you able to find some lodging for the festival?â
âYeah, I found something that will work.â Itâs not technically a lie. Besides, they donât need to know where youâre sleeping.
Kaeya raises an eyebrow and Albedo elbows him politely in the ribs. You make a note to buy him a drink later.
âIâll get this round,â Lisa says, standing and grabbing you by the arm. âMy treat. A welcome home present.â
You let her tug you through the crowd.
You end up seated properly at a barstool while Lisa orders. She wove her way through the crowd and up to the bar so easily, like liquid. You hardly have to wait at all before a drink is passed to you across the bar top.
You gulp half the glass down, greedily.
You, notably, have chosen not to cessate from dandelion wine in your absence. It was a rare treat to come across outside of Mond and Liyue, so when you could get your hands on glass, you let yourself partake. Whatever melancholy it brought with it could be tempered with more of it anyways.
It goes down easyâ it always does. Thicker than other wines, sweet but bodied, with some type of nutty and berry note to it. You never understood the process of winemaking, despite so many years spent at the winery. When Crepus or Diluc or one of the staff attempted to explain, it all easily went over your head.Â
The tannins sour your cheeks. You swallow down another mouthful, greedy, and slam down your empty goblet. Lisa looks at you wide-eyed.
âI donât recall that you were ever much of a drinker,â Lisa remarks as she flags down another glass for you. She sips her own, mischief in her eyes.Â
You shrug, nodding to the barkeep who fills your cup. âI indulge, occasionally. Forgive me for needing a drink in this environment.â
You gesture to the carousing around you. A lyre and fiddle play in the corner, and you distinctly hear two different bard songs. One is significantly better than the other, and you may have even enjoyed it if you could hear it fully.Â
Being near the bar forces you to see changes. Theyâre hard to not notice. The signage behind the bar has changed. An old menu and drink list have been changed out for something sleeker. Paintings and their frames replaced. The glass youâre drinking out must be new, along with the tankards that the barkeep washes whenever he has a free moment.
There are still ghosts in the corners.
âGods, you look like a wet towel.â Kaeyaâs shouts, nearly in your goddamn ear, as he slips into the empty seat next to you. He drapes an arm over your shoulders like youâre old friends and not the byproducts of a dissolved relationship. You think about shrugging his arm off, but decide against it.Â
You throw back the rest of whatever is in your glass and shout for another.
Kaeya catches your eye for a moment with a nearly unreadable expression. You recognize it (and concur that you need to be far more drunk than you currently are in order to survive the evening.) His brow lays smooth, lips in a not-quite smile, and his posture is a bit too rigid. You know heâs picking you apart, albeit quietly.
The expression disappears a moment later, and he has a new bottle of wine in his hands (âFor you, little sister.â) Your cup fills yet again, and you drink.
The world begins to feel fuzzier, easier, and the pain in your foot and leg dulls. God, you try not to indulge in drinking too often (itâs simply a recipe for reliance, given your condition. Regardless, you're a physician who knows better than to turn to the bottle rather than medicine), but you feel the temptation of it occasionally.Â
Itâs an easy friend to indulge in under these circumstances.
One of the bards, the one with loose braids, strikes up a conversation with Kaeya, looping you in with an exchange of introduction. Your cheeks warm when you notice the slur of your words, sipping your cup to disguise any embarrassment. The bard must be drunk, with how much sweet wine he drinks, but he hardly acts it. Poised.
Lisa pats you on your back after your fourth glass, seemingly pitying you in your stupor.Â
The good bard, at some point, leaves Kaeyaâs side. Kaeyaâs back to leaning into yours, the furs of his outfit prickling your nose. If you were sober, youâd be spewing curses at him. But in your drunken mind... it was fine. Fine. Maybe the warmth of him against your side wasnât entirely unwelcome either.
You loosen up, whether you want to or not.Â
Lisa drags you out of your stool after your fifth drink, to take pulls off a pipe a traveler offers and to dance with her in the main room of the tavern. The bards play a duet now, in tune, though the good bard from earlier carries the performance.
You laugh as she twirls you, dipping you near the floor. Some of the patrons cheer and whistle at the move, and you let loose a giggle that never wouldâve left you in your right mind. Her face swims before you. Your insides are warm. Things are okay, maybe. For now.
So, you dance.
You dance with Jean and Kaeya, even dragging Hertha in for a round. Eula refuses, though apologetically. Sheâs a bit too drunk herself, and Amber insists on staying by her side to nurse her with water and pyro-warmed pets to the back of her neck.
(Do you envy them? Maybe. The skinship of it seems nice. Theyâre so familiar with each other, even from a distance. So lax and tender with each other even within such a setting. You cannot imagine receiving such treatment.)
Kaeya spins you back to the bar and buys you another glass.
âYou dance better than you used to,â he croons in your ear. âeven with that dreadful limp of yours.â
You bark out a laugh and punch him in the arm with hardly any force (youâll regret not making it hurt more, later). âWow, and here I thought wine curbed your silver tongue.â
âUnlike some, I can hold my liquor just fine.â He shrugs and sips.
You, on the other hand, turn the corner from âtipsyâ to âblastedâ as you hit the bottom of your goblet. Your stomach churns, spelling a hangover that will rot your stomach and the space between your eyes come the morning. The room doesnât spin, not quite yet.Â
You lay your forehead on the bartop.Â
âAw, had a bit too much?â Kaeya tsks. âHow unfortunate of you, to not know your limits, even after all this time.â
You grumble something unintelligible.Â
He sets a cold hand on the nape of your neck and your ground yourself on it.
(You can regret it in the morning.)
You have absolutely no idea what time it is, though the tavern is still rowdy. You imagine late, at least near the high moon if not into the early morning. Windblume was a celebration of drinking after all. Angelâs Share stays lively, despite the hour, though the drone of voices and folk songs becomes lost on you as your eyes slip shut.
Amongst the din, thereâs a firm thudâ the sound of wood on wood. Another sounds just after, though much closer and more shallow. You only make out the sound because of its old familiarity. The sound of the counter flap falling and straining its hinges. It must be one of the only pieces of original hardware from the old Angelâs shareâ the sound is identical to the one in your memory (maybe, youâre drunk, you may just be nostalgicâ)
The barkeep (Charles, he told you his name though you didnât give him yours) shuffles away, maybe, based on the thump of feet amongst the roar of the tavern. A shift change.
âI wasnât sure if youâd show.â Kaeyaâs hand leaves you. You can hear the grin in his voice.
Thereâs a huff from behind the bar. The clink of a glass. A squeak as itâs dried and shined with a rag.
âDo you think Iâm unreliable?âÂ
Your eyes stretch open, wide, in a flash. Horrible, wretched familiarity (with the way a voice can bring you so much anguish and warmth in tandem.) You donât look up. You stare down at the floorboards, count the grains and notches in the wood. Steady your breathing.Â
You know that voice.
You look up, slowly, against all better judgment. If you were sober (Archons, if you were fucking soberâ) you wouldâve turned, held your eyes shut and ran out of the bar without looking back. You wouldâve never dared to peak and pull the thread that dangled in front of you.
Heâs blurry, but heâs there. A trim waist that leads up to broad shoulders, arms that bulge more than you remember, scarlet hair that falls in waves from a high-tied ribbon. Scarlet eyes, cut and polished like rubies.Â
Itâs Diluc, who meets your gaze for the first time in almost a decade. Just as shocked and wide-eyed as you are.Â
The glass slips from his hands and shatters.
PART iii: the World (born)
You met Diluc Ragnvindr when you were just children, doing what children do bestâ playing while the adults talked.
Your parentsâ traveling merchantsâ and Crepus Ragnvindr sat down for wine and sweet rum after a lavish supper. Your parents shooed you off. They didnât need you clinging to their legs while trying to discuss the intricacies of a potential (and lucrative) contract with Dawn Winery and its splendid dandelion wine.
Crepus takes you under his wing a bit, showing your parents to a fine vintage and you to his two boys.
âThey like to play in the vineyard this time of day,â Crepus says, a bit wistful. He leads you by the hand. âThe crystalflies soar lower when the sun dips beyond the hills, and the fireflies come out.â
You like fireflies.
He shows you out to the courtyard, and you catch sight of two boys scampering around amongst the greenery. Crepus calls them and they both dutifully bound over, the way young boys do, enthusiastic and fast. The one with the pretty blue hair follows the one with the pretty red hair.
Crepus introduces you. Kaeya. Diluc.
Diluc has round cheeks and a soft jaw. He carries baby fat still, pudgy in his arms and legs and round in his belly. His cheeks are flushed with the late summerâs heat and a day of play. He has a brush of freckles over the bridge of his nose and cheeks. His hair is shorter than it will become, but long enough that you think your mother would envy him.
His eyes widen when he sees you. Youâll never be sure why.
(Kismet turned for him earlier, maybe. All it took was you.)
You spend the evening with your side wedged into Diluc's, watching the lazy flight of anemo crystalflies by the water. You tell the boys about the constellations you know, and make up a few that you donât. You trace them in the sky with the tip of your pointer finger. You ask to braid Dilucâs hair and he lets you.Â
Crepus finds you all, just after dusk, dozing as the fireflies begin to dance.
...
Your family visits the winery several times each year. You enjoy the visits immensely. Youâve grown quite close to the Ragnvindrâs, and Kaeya too. You always barrel off your familyâs wagon, running ahead of them to greet the boys, who are always waiting for you too.
You play swords with them, though you arenât any good at it. You always bring them trinkets from wherever you and your family have been. You like to gift Crepus a book or two as well, though you donât know what theyâre about. You choose them based on the covers.
Diluc lights up when you hand him a little shell from Liyueâs shore. You tell him about the cliffs where you found it, and how youâll go there together some day. Youâll show him the geometric columns of stone that seem to climb all the way to Celestia. You will show him where the sand bars become one with the sea, and how to dig for crabs and shells with your bare hands.Â
Diluc likes you, you think. He always lets you slip into his room after the manor has fallen asleep. You sit across from one another on the velvet window bench. You hug a pillow while he tells you about how heâll start training as a knight soon. He holds a vision nowâ he pats it with pride.Â
(He tells you how he obtained his vision in your absence. The first time he picked up a sword against an adversary, it appeared to him. Itâs a grand thing, brave. He was protecting one of his favorite stray winery kittens from a boar near the edge of the property. He raised his rubber training sword and he was granted Celestiaâs blessing.)
You think heâs lovely.
...
The boys start training with Ordo Favonius. They practice with the Gunnhildr girl, the older one, who wears a ribbon in her hair and has eyes like midday sky. Sheâs a few years older than you, and intimidates you with her maturity, but sheâs kind.Â
The older knights let you watch their training when your family visits. You post up during their drills, watch their forms, their blunders, and their successes. A knight named Varka always takes Diluc aside to teach him how to best wield his vision with his weapon of choice.Â
(A greatsword. A claymore. Itâs almost your size, probably. The one Diluc uses during training is Favonius issued, smithed with their crest near the base of the blade. You know the one heâll really use. A family relic that Crepus brought up from storage for himâ a rectangular blade, metal cast in black and red, with an elaborate furl stretching from the hilt. Crepus asks Diluc to wield it when heâs ready.)
Kaeya offers you his sword, one day, at the end of training. The junior knights soak in their own sweat as you take the blade from Kaeya. The knights make it look so effortless to wield such weaponry. They carry it at the hip like it's an accessory and not carved metal. When you wrap your hand around it, the weight shocks you. You barely heft it up, struggling with the balance of it. The trainees rib you a bit for it, and it makes you blush hot and hard.
Diluc scolds Kaeya, taking the blade from you when it's clear that brandishing it one-handed as intended is close to impossible for you. You feel some relief when Kaeya takes it back and shrugs.Â
âYou wonât have to worry about wielding a weapon like thatâ ever.â Diluc says on your way home (home, home, home, itâs becoming your homeâ) that day. âEspecially a sword.â
âWhy?â You ask.
âIâll make sure you never have to.â
âHm... what if I want to?â You try to be cheeky with him.
He gives you a playful shove and you bump into Kaeya. The latter groans and makes a choking sound.
âYou donât,â Diluc replies, flashing you a smile. âIf you did, you wouldâve played swords with Kaeya and I more when we were little. You always liked to watch.â
âItâs more fun that way!â You hip check him. âItâs interesting to see all of it, rather than participate.â
âYeah, sure,â Kaeya chimes in. âIâm sure it has nothing to do with how weak your arms are.âÂ
He squeezes your bicep and you shriek at him, chasing him ahead down the path. You squabble all the way home (home, home, home), rolling down the hills back into the Wineryâs valley. You belly laugh together, tears in your eyes. Itâs good.Â
You only go silent when you notice your familyâs wagon, packed and ready for departure, idling in front of the winery.Â
...
You donât travel well, you never have.Â
Your parents had informed Crepus of this during your first visit (âNever well, even when my wife my pregnantâ the little thing gave her the hardest time on the road.â) Despite this, you had always meandered with your family on their circuit from Liyue to Mond.Â
One of your visits to the winery, just around the turn of your childhood to adolescence, you fall ill.
Your parents brush off your complaints upon arrival. Chills, aches, and a coughâ âItâs from the rain. Your clothes are still damp.â. Your usually lively arrival was dulled. You barely touched the dinner Crepus provided before retiring to your favored room.
You hate being sick. You hate how your gut churns and you feel so cold, despite the fire one of the maidâs stoked in the big fireplace. You sniffle and snot over the back of your hand, fighting tears. You fall ill so frequently, but it doesnât make it easier. Even your softest clothes feel scratchy against your tender skinâ you feel horribly breakable.Â
Thereâs a gentle knock on your door before it opens. Diluc joins you by your bedside, kneeling, watching you with wide ruby eyes.
âMy father told me youâre sick,â he says gently. âYou donât look well.â
You give him a wilted look. âIt happens.â
â... It shouldnât,â Diluc says with a conviction that your fever forces you to miss. âHe says that you get sick often.â
âI donât travel well.â You parrot what you heard your parents say a thousand times, to innkeepers and merchant-folk alike. âItâs alright, Diluc. Iâll be well in a few days.â
Your teeth chatter. You bury yourself deeper in the covers.
Diluc looks unconvinced. He disrobes as much as is proper, and asks quietly if he can join you. Heâs warm, from his pyro vision, he tells you. He can see how cold you feel.
Whether he had such a vision or not, you wouldâve said yes.
You pull away the duvet, inviting Diluc closer. Itâs innocent, a sharing of heat. You press your forehead to his chest and he lets his arms fall naturally to your waist. It cages you. It feels safe and warm, and you donât think youâve felt that before.
You give him the smallest âthank youâ, voice burnt and charred with fever. Diluc chases off the chill and embers alike, replaces them with the hearth that he will become to you, and you think that kismet mightâve shifted for you then, too.Â
...
You leave, a few days later, still sick.Â
You return, several months later, still sick.
Whatever cold you had during your last visit had metastasizedâ or so your parents say. They seem moderately unconcerned as they sort through the inventory theyâll be taking for their run.
Crepus doesnât look convinced.Â
Diluc helps you inside. You barely hold yourself on two feet, and need to stop and catch your breath several times. Kaeya loops his arm over your neck and Diluc hoists you by the waist, and the two nearly drag you to your room.Â
A doctor is called, a healer from Mond that knows the Ragnvindrâs well. Diluc and Kaeya stay by your side as the healer draws up tincture and grinds down herbs and oils into a soft balm to slather on your chest.Â
Diluc lays with you in bed again that night, over the covers, not daring to touch you. You seem so fragile, only half-there in the room with him. He resents your parents horribly for allowing you to carelessly decline in such a state. It shows in the way his expression twists into a scowl whenever theyâre within his vicinity.
...
Crepus offers his home to youâ no, rather he insists.
Youâre still ill, lungs gunky and fever hardly waned, by the time your family deigns it time to leave. They plan to cart you along, never mind your condition. Diluc, if he had less restraint, wouldâve cursed them out in the wineryâs foyer.Â
(The wet sound of your breathing. The little whimpers when your fever spiked, signaling that it was time for more of the tincture the healer left behind. The way you balled your fist in his nightshirt during the worst of it.)
Crepus says itâll be no trouble to house you, for however long you need. Youâve always taken to the winery easily, and clearly need a stable place to recover from your illness. He enjoys taking in a stray or two. One more, especially one he thinks so fondly of and that he knows his boys adore, is simply a blessing, not a burden.
...
Diluc ascends to cavalry captain of the Knights of Favonius just around the time that you make a full recovery.Â
It takes monthsâ for both of you. Diluc patrols and trains with the knights when heâs not by your side. Heâs incredibly well-regarded by Mond, beloved by his fellow knights and the townsfolk as well. He has ample support from all around, and his father glows with pride.Â
(Diluc bears the weight of his fatherâs expectations well. You donât even notice Diluc squirm under the pressure of it. It all seems to come naturally to himâ being a hero.)
You see your healer every few days, drink your teas and diligently rest while you recover. The illness sticks in your lungs and you take to reading up on medicinal plants and potential treatments. It gives you some understanding of the remedies that your healer makes for you. Your healer finds you promising, despite your sickly state, and offers you an apprenticeship, if you choose to pursue such a profession.
Itâs success after success, a time bathed in thick gold sun that feels as warm as it tastes.
You and Diluc dance at his ascension celebration. He holds you by the waist, clumsy like the young man he is, but you donât mind. You loop your arms over his shoulders, memorizing the blush that paints his cheeks, and the dimples that carve them. You twirl him under your arm and laugh up to the sun and moon alike. You pull the ribbon from his hair so it unfurls over his shoulder. You run your hands through it without a care.
(Diluc looks at you, when youâre not looking at him, with such a reverence. You canât see it yet, but itâs a burgeoning thing. Love and devotion caramelized by innocence, by want and need intertwined. He doesnât know how to say how he feels, not yet; the feelings are still loose and undefined. But smoldering kindling he is.)
...
Crepus offers his home to you, permanently. You have taken to it so well, and his boysâ his boys adore you. The staff does. You have so much growing for you in Mond, it seems silly to pack up your belongings small and tight so you can ride out on merchants circuit once more. Only to return sick once more.
You accept, hesitant at first. Itâs a scary thing to give up the life youâve known, even if the one Crepus extends to you is far more comfortable. Your parents have no qualms. You think they enjoyed your absence too much. They seem content to leave you at Dawn Winery, promising to continue their circuit, so youâd see them a few times a year.
It makes something in your ache and cry, but thereâs many things to balm it in the manor. A warm fire and Adelindeâs recipes, along with whatever new tarts and sweets Crepus brings home from Mondstadt properâ they all make it easier. Good company too. Kaeya always has new ideas for schemes and little adventures. Crepus brings you gifts and makes sure youâre settling in well to your new space. Diluc is ever-dutifully at your side, whatever the circumstance, and you at his.Â
You still sneak into Dilucâs room in the late night. You nestle up, side by side, on his plush window bench. You link pinkies and talk about everything.
...
âI thought this one was a bit boring.â You look up to Diluc, backwards, craning your neck. âThe love interest was a bit shallow for me.â
âI agree,â Diluc answers from above you. He shuts the book deftly with one hand. âThis authorâs pieces usually have a bit more depth to them. This one was a bit flat.â
You tend to come to the same conclusion on the stories you share.
The Small Study (ow, ow, ow, ow) is a room most near Crepusâ wing of the manor. Itâs exactly as it soundsâ a small study. Something Dilucâs mother made sure was constructed for him, prior to her leaving. Floor to ceiling bookshelves line the walls, with a long table slicing the room in two. When you were young, very young, you, Diluc, and Kaeya would sit at the table and write your own stories. Color with paints that Crepus bought for you from Snezhnaya on recycled receipts and old ledgers.Â
These days, the table is mostly bare and a bit dusty. You use it more than Diluc, though most of your studying with your teacher happens at their cottage, in Mond proper. Diluc and Kaeya have a training room a few doors down, one that Crepus constructed, with mats and straw targets, and more armaments than Ordo Favonius probably knows about.Â
Most of your time in the Small Study is spent in the corner, tucked close to each other. You have amassed an impressive number of spare sheets, pillows, and blankets, and have constructed what could only be called a nest. You and Diluc take to lounging on it in the mornings and evenings, when you both have the time. You read together. Sometimes you aloud to him, and sometimes him aloud to you. Â
Dilucâs voice has taken to breaking lately. You find it adorable and canât help teasing him about it.
âIâll have to hunt for a new novel at the markets today.â You sigh. The sun is rising above the cliffs, bathing the shelves and columns of dust ichor gold. You throw your hand up, watching the beam soak your skin warm.
Diluc catches your wrist and brings the back of your hand to his lips.Â
Little things, skinship, he likes. He never says anything much about it, only asks quietly if it's alright that he keeps such proximity to you. You eat it up, his heat, his presenceâ you want all of it. Youâre gluttonous in your youth (you have yet to know starvation.)
âBe careful on patrol today, okay? Iâm helping Adelinde make that sweet bread you like before I visit Teacher.â You huff, maneuvering to youâre at his eye level. You tug his cheek, still soft with baby fat. âYou better not have any extra bruises when I pick you up today.â
âIâll try.â He rolls his eyes. âEven if I do, youâll patch me up, wonât you?âÂ
âI could have Teacher do it,â you huff. âI know you donât like how rough they can get with you.â
Diluc scoffs, âThey donât like meââ
âThey like you plentyââÂ
You squabble, soft in your chests, because it's all easy and slow. The romance novel gets tucked away into an overflowing shelf, bulging with others that youâve already finished.Â
Kaeya is shining his blade in the armory, and you collect him before heading to Mondstadt proper. Itâs a routine, each day, one that you enjoy and cling to. You enjoy your training and you feel only pride seeing your boys bud and grow in their strength. You fight, like young ones of your age do, but it's all in jest. Simple. Your squabbles get settled with wrestling by the river or when Crepus intervenes and fathers the three of you.
Itâs good and you never want it to end.
...
Diluc grows into himself. Heâs gangly in his teen yearsâ long arms and bulging shoulder blades heâs yet to grow into. The pudge heâd had around his belly has disappeared, sucked away by a growth spurt or two. He grows a bit more into his frame, each year closer to adulthood that he gets. Muscle building on muscle.Â
Teacher says youâre doing well with your studies. You pour over books on medicinal herbs and medical techniques during the day, and watch Teacher heal when patients are around. You become adept enough to see patients on your own, for small injuries.Â
You fix up Diluc whenever he comes home to you. Cuts. Bruises. The odd fracture or two. Heâs the person you ever stitch a wound together for. He doesnât flinch. So trusting.
...
Crepus gets odd, at some point. Youâre almost old enough to be considered an adult. He starts asking you questions you know the answer to, but it seems like heâs seeking something other than the truth. Sentiments that he wants to squeeze out of you, to satiate something in him that you can clearly see, but donât know how to name.
(Heâs a businessmanâ is it in his nature to be greedyâ?)
(Forget. Forget. Forget.)
...
You wish it had stayed so kind and good for longer. You wish you appreciated it more, but you didnât fully understand the goodness laid before you until it was so brutally ripped away from you.Â
The night Diluc turns eighteen, your world shatters. Burns. Immolates while you lay drunkenly dozing in a friend's warm bed. You donât greet the wreckage until you awaken. Alone, drowning and with a new pang in your stomach.
PART iii: the stitch the wound the burning
You instantly slam your hands on the bartop. You whip your head around to Kaeya. He wears a wide, awful grin. So fucking smitten with himself.
You hate him.Â
âFuck you,â you snap.Â
You push up, knocking the bar stool over with a bang. You turn on a heel and run from the tavern. Wordless.
(You run. You shouldâve run. You shouldâve never come back. Ever.)
You know the display caused enough of a ruckus that Angelâs Share fell nearly silent as you left. You know that your vision shuddered out of your control, sending dendro to liven the flowers around the tavern. It felt sick. To know that the blooms would be wider and more beautiful while you ran. Running, running, running.Â
Lisa and Jean, maybe, shout your name as you sprint away. You ignore themâ you have to. The temptation to turn back and face them drowns in the wine that churns in your stomach. Your breath feels too hot and heavy in your lungs, like lead and steam. You feel like you might die.
(Diluc in the same room as you. Diluc in front of you. Not a ghost, a breathing body. Flesh. He wouldâve been a bit too warm, to the touch. You know him to be. Heâd grown so muchâ how much had you missed? Archons, you miss himâ)
You barely get out of Mondstadt proper before you bracing yourself on one its outer walls, forcing your finger down your throat, and heaving your guts out onto the high grass. All of the splendid wine you sampled color the ground blood red, surely staining your lips. Tears drip from your lash line. You feel sticky as you draw your fingers from your throat, spit and dribble sliding down your wrist.Â
You curse and shake.Â
You wipe your hands down on your trousers and scrub at your lips with the edge of your sleeve. You spit pretty scarlet and nearly hurl again.
The sun has set, and the dark is a comfort. It cloaks you, allowing you to duck easily between shadows and firelight that other travelers warm themselves by. No one looks at you twice. Youâre sure you seem like a drunkard, notâ Not whatever you are. You drag yourself back to your campsite.
You fall to the ground, drawing up your good leg by the knee and press your forehead to it.
Fuck.
Fuck the healer. Fuck Windblume. Fuck seeing any friends or familiar faces. You discard the plans, crushing them down until you decide theyâre not worth it. None of this was worth it. If youâd only ducked in and out of Mondstadtâs market, you wouldnât have met Lisa. Gotten twisted up with Kaeya. Dared to enter Angelâs Share. Seen Diluc.
You knew the mere sight of him would send you. You knew. You feel foolish. Stupid. If you were a fraction more sober, you wouldâve dragged yourself out of self pity and set up camp for the night. Instead you stew. You swallow back dread and bile and clutch your shoulders.
(You always knew this was a risk, coming back here, didnât you? Thatâs why you never dared to even get near Mondstadtâs borders. Now youâve done it.)
You certainly have.
You rub your eyes again, grimacing at the taste in your mouth. Forcing yourself up is a task, especially trying to keep weight off of your (now very) bad foot. You struggle to balance, propping yourself up on a pile of discarded crates and get to work setting up your campsite for the night. You resolve to sleep until dawn, pack up, and be on your way. Youâll head back to Liyue and catch a boat out of the harbor. Youâll go anywhere. Do anything.Â
(To be far away from here.)
You struggle with your tent and tarp. Itâs infinitely harder to set up your sleeping arrangements when youâre hobbling around on one leg. Emptying your stomach of its content has made you lightheaded (or, it's the panic that is thick and porous in your blood. Burrowing into your flesh. Will you even be able to sleep tonight?) You fight to keep your breath steady as you struggle to stake the tarp into the dirt.
Someone says your name from behind you. Breathes it like it's lighter than air, weighted like a gospel.
You turn, for the second time, against better judgment.
Diluc stands above you, wearing the same shocked expression he had in Angelâs Share.Â
Your lips twist, your brow falls. You feel yourself sink. Itâs the same feeling you get in your stomach when youâre put toe-to-toe with an adversary out in the wilderness. Itâs the feeling you get when you get a patient a little too late and canât be sure if youâll be able to drag them back from the brink.
You breathe his name right back.
â... Youâre here,â he says. His voice has evened out. Deeper than you remember, and rougher, but barely.
âI am,â you answer as neutrally as you can. You school your expression and turn back to your tarp. âPlease leave.â
Diluc doesnât answer. Heâs frozen above you, so close that you swear you can feel the heat coming off of him.Â
âDonât ask me to do that,â Diluc says, like a demand and not a request.
You bristle.
âIâm setting up my camp for the night,â you state plainly. âThen I will be sleeping. I will be gone by dawn tomorrow. I apologize for any disruption I caused at... at Angelâs Share.â
You press your hands over the top of a nail. The iron digs into your palms. You shove at it anyway, until itâs snug against the earth.
âI donât care about that,â Diluc replies with an edge to his voice thatâs unfamiliar. âThatâs not of consequence.â
â... Then why are you here?â You crawl across the ground, brace yourself on a crate, and stand. Your weak foot hovers just off the ground. âWhy follow me, Diluc? Iâm sure you have better things to do.â
You say his name like it's a curse and face him.
(And itâs like coming home.)
(If you had any less of yourself, you wouldâve sank into the earth and wept.)
âI donât,â he says. Arms crossed. Shoulders square. You see him struggle with his words, chewing on the inside of his cheek, just like he used to. âYou left so quickly, and Kaeyaââ
âBastard,â you spit.Â
Diluc muffles a laugh (a full sound so lovelyâ you used to do anything to hear it). âHe didnât tell you I would be bartending, Iâm assuming?â
âHe told me, expressly, that you would not be bartending.âÂ
â... It is my tavern. Windblume is the busiest time of the year.â He looks a bit wounded. You canât tell if youâre imagining it. âKaeya sent word that Ordo would be at Angelâs Share in full force this evening. My presence was called.â
You scowl, âI realize that now.â
Diluc sighs, deep and hard and full, âYou left so quickly, and Kaeya told me you were most likely staying outside of the city. I was... worried.â
You let out a breath through your teeth, maybe a laugh, some unholy thing and you shake your head. You canât bear to look at him for too long, âWell, Iâm fine. Promise. I just wasnât expecting to see you.â
âClearly.â
âAnd you werenât expecting to see me?â
âNo.â Diluc sighs. âI... No. I wasnât.â
You donât know what else to say to him.Â
âGo.â You shoo him off. âI need to finish setting up and get some sleep. Sorry again for causing any trouble.â
You turn away, going to reach for your tentâ
Diluc grabs your upper arm. He keeps you steady and upright.
âYou didnât.â
The contact burns. Sears through you like youâre just gossamer and old silk. You tense with it. When did his heat become unfamiliar?
You open your mouth, part your lips just barely, but nothing comes out. Your mind empties.
âCome back to the winery.â
His words cut you from any of your reverie. Your grief forces itself up in plumes, from the base of your spine to the corners of your damp eyes.
âAbsolutely fucking not.â You tear away from him.Â
He lets you go. (You suffocate the part of you that mourns the loss.)Â
âItâs not safe outside the walls.â He takes a step back. Breathing room. âThereâs no lodging available in the city, Iâm sure you found.â
âI did, and Iâm fine out here, Diluc. I can protect myself just fine.â You pat the dendro Vision on your hip. Your weapon remains unsummoned and out of sight.
âItâs going to rain.â Diluc frowns. âAnd, your tent is torn.â
He gestures behind you, and sure enough, a massive tear runs through an entire side of your tent. You hadnât noticed.Â
(If you will not go where you are supposed to be, perhaps fate will push you there? Align the stars and cosmos just rightâ)
âI recall that you never enjoyed camping,â Diluc says and it's like a knife to the chest. The idea that he remembers anything about you. âYouâll have a bed for as long as youâd like.â
âDilucââ Youâre near to cursing him out, let the Archons, Celestia and the damn Stars hear itâ
âIâm sure Adelinde would love you to see you too.â
Oh.
Ohâ Adelinde. When was the last time you sent her a letter? Or read one of hers? You have a stack of them, sealed with purple wax and bound in twine, shoved in your bag. Among your most prized possessions. Youâve hardly let the ink smudge, despite time and condition.
â... She still works for you?â
âOf course.â Dilucâs voice sounds strained.Â
âElzer too?â You ask.
âYes, heâs been at my side sinceââ
âSince you came back to Mondstadt,â you answer for him. âSince you returned to the winery.â
Elzer had been at your side too, when you were running the winery in Dilucâs absence. Same with Adelinde.
Archons, you miss them.Â
âIâll stay at the winery,â you say after a beat. âSo I can see them.â
Diluc lets out a sigh, shaky and short. He flexes his hands, open and closed. Relieved. The moment of vulnerability passes.
âWill you be able to walk there withââ He gestures to your foot.
âYes, Iâll be fine.â You put weight on it, swallowing down any pain. You can bear it.Â
Diluc offers his arm, and you refuse it, striding past him.Â
You walk side by side back to Dawn Winery.
...
It does begin to drizzle, eventually. Nothing close to proper rain, but a thick mist that dampens your hair and clothes. The chill of it sinks into you, unpleasant but not unbearable. You cling to the discomfort of it. You and Diluc do not speak to each on the way back, other than the time or two you announce you need a short rest for your foot.
Fatigue hits you as you stumble down the valley paths leading into the wineryâs main grounds.Â
You blame the wine.Â
The front door looks almost the same, perhaps the wood refinished. Diluc pulls forth a shining brass key (different, than the one that you had during your tenure as âmasterâ of Dawn Winery. That key was thick, old iron. Rusting at its corners. It always felt cold and heavy. An entire year it was tied to you. Tethered to your waist on the very same belt that now holds your vision.)
The lock was replaced.
The interior of the winery is different too, you find. It makes stepping inside less jarringâ the floors, once dark, long-planked hardwood, has been redone to intricate patterns of lighter, warm-toned wood. Less candles, more electro-powered fixtures set into the walls and ceiling. The couches look different, brighter and fluffier with fresh cushions. Even the grand carpet that covers the main room, bearing the Ragnvindr crest, appears to have been freshened. Maybe even re-tuffed. Itâs generally brighter.
âYouâve... updated things.â Your voice trails off as you shrug off your cloak and hang it on your arm.Â
Diluc follows your line of sight to a new tapestry on the east-wall. Not of the family crest, but the vineyard. Itâs far more ornate than any you remember; you can see the metallic gold weavings shine, even in the lowlight. The tapestry is ringed by paintings, portraits and some landscapes. You recall Crepus commissioning many of them, or creating them himself. Thereâs a number of new photographs as well.
âI have over the years,â Diluc replies. âIt was necessary.â
You hum, pausing. â... I like it. Itâs nice.â
Itâs nice because it doesnât feel quite as much like youâre walking into a still-breathing cadaver. You expected to be greeted with an interior you had seared in your memory. Corners youâd still see ghosts in, picture frames that were askew that you hadnât been able to bring yourself to fix. You know which floorboards were creaky and which windows had the worst draft.Â
This version of Dawn Winery from your memory doesnât exist anymore, in any way or facet. Whatâs left certainly isnât blank or void, but itâs more unfamiliar than you expected. It smells like rose oil and beeswax rather than cedar and tobacco.Â
âMaster Diluc? Youâre back earlier than expected.â
Adelinde breaks you from your stupor.Â
She looks much the sameâ the same uniform, though perhaps her hairâs a bit shorter? Thereâs new wrinkles around the corners of her eyes, sun spots around her forehead and the bridge of her nose. Her eyes are still kind. They go wide when she sees you, and the mug sheâs holding nearly slips from her grip.
Your chest tightens.
She says your name and itâs like youâve been cut through. Flesh parting around a sharp blade.Â
âHi.â Your voice sounds soft and so much more broken than you can accept it is.Â
âWelcome home.â She smiles, all the way up to her eyes.
If you were a little more weak, perhaps a few months more weatheredâ you wouldâve broken then. You wouldâve fallen apart in the foyer of Dawn Winery, drowning and hungry and soaked to the bone in something colder than rain water. You hold yourself together, barely, thin threads wound around you to the point of constricting keep you upright. Sure-footed. Almost-whole.
But, Adelinde knows... doesnât she? She must. She has an uncanny ability for these things. Itâs because she watched you grow, watched your toils and supported you. Mothered you when needed. You counseled and consoled each other, during the worst of it.
It makes you feel less guilty, less ashamed, when you nearly throw yourself at her. You wrap your arms around her shoulders and smother your face in her shoulder.
Adelinde hugs you in kind. She still smells like pine-cleaner and that jasmine perfume she imports. She wraps you, in herself, squeezing so hard youâre afraid sheâll undo the strings binding your heart together.Â
âH-How have you been?â you ask. Tears sting your eyes.
She strokes the back of your head, through your hair. âIâve been well. And you?â
You smush your face into her shoulder. You donât know what to say to her. Instinctual honesty climbs up in your throatâ you suppress it.Â
âIâve been better,â you say, softly. You hope only she can hear. âExcited to sleep in a real bed. Take a bath.â
Adelinde goes still, slackâ then she almost crushes you. You feel her heartbeat and your lip wobbles.
âIâm glad youâre home, then. Let me fetch you a cup of tea. Iâll make sweet bread in the morning.â
âT-That sounds nice. Thank you.â
Diluc, who has been silent and watchful, clears his throat. âThey can take whichever room they like.â
âIâll prepare the west wing guest room.â (Far from your old bedroom.) She whispers to you. âThere was a Fontainisian merchant we were hostingâ she left all of her luxury skincare and bath supplies here.â
You pull away, narrowing your eyes, âAre you implying something?â
âNot at all.â She gives you a good-natured smile. âTheyâre yours. Letâs get you settled.â
You nod and she guides you with a hand on your lower back, up the stairs, to the west wing. Diluc has made himself scarce, seemingly disappearing into thin air to the northern wing of the manor. You only half notice.
Archons, youâre tired.
Adelinde helps you settle in. She sets your bag on a vanity stool, shows you a newly renovated bathroom with a tub that could easily fit you and a Rishboland tiger in it. The rest of the details of the room fade. Something stickier and older than fatigue works its way up through your bone marrow, leaving your body as a yawn.
Adelinde gives you a sympathetic smile when she brings you a cup of lavender and chamomile tea.Â
The world is blurry when you crash into the pillows. They smell like the herbal detergent you suckered Crepus into buying during your teen years. Diluc liked it. Whatever potential revulsion you could have has wilted with your exhaustion. Instead, something warm brews in you. You shove your nose into the silken case. The feeling is good. You donât mind it.Â
(Fuck, maybe you even need it.) Â
...
You sleep for three days.Â
You donât mean to, and itâs not continuous. You rise for your promised sweet bread, tea, and a much-need, thorough bath. Youâve spent the past few months using communal bath houses or washing in rivers and lakes, quick and rarely relaxing. You indulge in the massive, stone tub for a private soak that leaves you pruney and smelling like rose oil and Natlani bright grass.Â
The position of the sun feels arbitrary. You just sleep. Like the fucking dead. No dreams, thank the gods. Thick curtains keep your room dark and you relish every moment. You hadnât realized how deeply fatigue had woven itself into you. Youâd become so acclimated to exhaustion, it only hit you when you finally had a (safe and) quiet place to sleep with no end date.Â
Adelinde brings an armful of clothes at some point. (âWe put these in storage, when you left. Iâm sure some still fit.â) Some do, thankfully, and youâre grateful to have more than four garments, especially when they go together. Itâs nostalgic to slip into skirts and trousers you havenât worn in so long, and you decide theyâll suffice. Unideal, but comfortable.Â
The tiredness is an odd blessing. You feel too blurry and foggy to really pick apart your feelings. All of them. Youâre aware of the knot thatâs formed somewhere between your ribs and gut (or rather, revealed itself), and you ignore it for as long as you are able to. No one comes to you except Adelinde, who never presses you.Â
(You donât know what you would do if she did. Adelinde knows discretion, she knows wounds and scrapes and bruises, and knew yours once. Well and thoroughly. You think she can see all of your ills now too.)
(Youâre glad she doesn't pry at you. In your moments between wakefulness and sleep, you tend to dream more loosely. You imagine what you might say to Diluc, had you... the opportunity without damage. What would you say to him? The you thatâs mostly a dream screams at him sometimes. Enraged. Sometimes you cry, asking questions that neither your sleeping or waking mind has answers for. Theyâre not... unfamiliar dreams, but theyâre unwelcome. Theyâre more vivid now that youâre staying in the Winery.)
They feel more real. Diluc is only rooms away at any given time.
(Heâs not a specter.)
On the third day, you awake midday to a frantic knock on your door. Adelinde, you assume. Stumbling from bed, and pull on a dressing gown and nothing more, and pull open the heavy oak doorâ
Itâs Diluc. Of course it is. In working trousers and a loose, white top. Dirt stains his knees and the tips of his fingers. Pretty red hair spills from its loose tie, bouncy with a fresh wash. He tenses, when he sees you. Fists balling at his sides and shoulders going rigid.
Your jaw locks and the air in your lungs suddenly feels heavy and too hot. Your throat bobs with a swallow, and you gather up the satin of your robe before it has a chance to slip down to the crook of your elbow.Â
(Just seeing him sends you. Into a rage. Into a fit of grief. The visage of him forces you to reckon with something more awful and sticky and molten than you know what to do with.)
(You wish it was more avoidable.)
You freeze.
Your several days of rest afforded you the time to... ignore Diluc. Hide from him, and the knot that you desperately donât want to unravel. Despite sleeping in one of his beds and eating his food, you need distance. It feels like youâll explode if you donât have it.
âThe child of one of the vineyard workers is injured,â Diluc says, maybe a little out of breath. âCan you take a look?â
âOf course,â you reply without hesitation. A hurt child takes precedence over most things.
The child and his mother sit in Dilucâs foyer, you can hear them as you approach. The girl sniffles and clings to her mothers sleeve with one hand, the other limp in her lap. One of her legs splays the wrong way, equally limp.Â
You approach easily, introducing yourself. The air has an edge of crisis to it, but you wade through it easily. If anything, itâs comfortingly familiar. To be calm and confident in the face of serious injury or illness is often medicine in and of itself.Â
You set your large, leather-bound caboodle beside you and take to the floor. Your Tselostnyy insignia is pinned to the outside. The motherâs eyes dart to it as she pets over her daughterâs hair, and she relaxes at the sight of it. A qualified stranger, you are.
The mother is younger, someone before your time as the Wineryâs temporary master which is a relief. Diluc lingers behind you, watching you work, probably. You attempt not to care.
You scooch forward, on your knees, knitting your fingers together and hover them over your patient. You focus on the spiral of dendro through muscle and bone, reading the injury:
Two clean breaks. Closed fracture of the left ulna. Closed fracture of the left femur.
Itâs a miracle that the child isnât shrieking in her motherâs lap.Â
âHow did you get hurt?â you ask the child directly.Â
She sniffles. âI f-fell outtaâ the big tree by the water. I was trying to climb it.â
Her mother almost scolds her, but you beat her to speaking. âThatâs a hard tree to climb. The oaks by the stables are much easier.â
Itâs just a slip of the tongue, to be so familiar.
You turn to the child and school a smile on your lips. âIâll be able to heal your injuries with my Vision. Youâll get some medicine as well, and it needs to be stirred into juice. Do you have a favorite kind?â
The child looks unsure, and her mother answers for her: âShe likes apple best.â
âApple, master of the house.â You wave a hand behind you. âCan you fetch some?â
âOf course,â Diluc answers without missing a beat and you hasten him away.
Knitting your fingers together once more, you begin to work on her injuries. The child is holding up quite well, despite the immense pain she must be in. You work quickly regardless, but keep in mind you do have the luxury of time. Thereâs no one more broken or more sick just beyond her who needs to be treated as well.
Dendro sews together her bones. Encourages new flesh and muscle to grow where it is needed.Â
When Diluc returns, you instruct him further, gaze never straying from the knitting bones, âTake the third vial from the right on the top row of oils, will you? Stir half a dropper into the juice and stir for a minute. If you see oil on the top, keep going.â
âWhatâs the medicine for?â The girl asks.Â
âRelaxation and sleep,â You reply softly. âThis type of healing is very effective, but it takes a lot of energy out of the person who is being healed. Youâll be tired once Iâm all done, but you may have trouble resting since your body is still reacting to the shock of your injuries.â
The mother lets out a sigh of relief. Perhaps too wordy of an explanation for a child, but her mother seems grateful for it.Â
When the childâs healed into proper pieces again, you unknit your fingers and fall back on your heels. Diluc wordlessly passes the goblet of well-mixed apple juice to the child, who shakily gulps it town. The medicine doesnât have much of a taste, more of an oily texture to it that requires it to be drunk quickly after being mixed. The juice must be from one of Dilucâs best stashes because the child beams after chugging it.
â... Thatâs it?â She asks.Â
You nod and crack your knuckles, now stiff. âThatâs it.â
â... Nothing else?âÂ
âNope.â You crack your neck. âOther than the fatigue, but a few extra hours of sleep should remedy that. Sheâll be back to normal after a nap.â
âThank you,â The mother says and your chest feels sticky and warm. âI know that Barbara from the Church has similar skills with her Vision, but Iâve never seen healing like yours. Mondstadt could use a physician like you, you know.â
The feeling goes cold, but you keep your smile. Bear it.
âIâm sure they do.â Teacherâs shoes hadnât been filled, apparently. And youâd departed to the Tselostnyy School and never returned.Â
The mother and her child give more thanks before leaving and you keep your facade up until theyâre out the door. The girlâs no doubt ruffled still, even with the light sedative. The mother frazzled. The last thing youâd want to do is burden them with your own misplaced ire. They canât know. They wouldnât know.
Diluc, howeverâ
Heâs been the silent spectator to this whole affair. He idles by the couches and the hearth, arms crossed, still-dirtied from whatever vineyard work heâd been doing prior to fetching you. Youâre sure he was working in the fields, heard the child shriek, and rushed to their aid. Typical.
Diluc stares at you like he could immolate you alive.
âYouâre incredible.â He says it like itâs the simplest thing in the world. Like the sentence doesnât implode something in you.Â
Your fists shake at your sides. âHardly. Itâs just my profession.â
Diluc works his jaw and considers his words. You note the way he looks stumped and lost. Itâs not intentional, if youâre being honestâ so thereâs no harm in enjoying the way he stumbles to speak around you, is there?
(Itâs only fair. Diluc had always been so sure-footed and sturdy with his words. To see him flounder now reminds you that heâs changed too. Something in him has paled and been mutilated, just like you. Two wounded. His suffering isnât what you revel in, but the knowledge that heâs affected. Neither of you came out unscathed and youâve spent the last years refusing to imagine how Diluc mightâve coped.)
âWill you have tea with me?â Diluc asks, the words ringing off the glass chandelier in minor key. âYou donât have to if you donât wantââ
âI will.âÂ
...
Adelinde kindly brings you both tea, by the hearth and its embers. Itâs served with a few small cakes and rounds of steaming sweet bread. Diluc takes his tea just as he did when he was youngâ a heavy dash of cream and a spoon and a half of sugar (âthe half is very importantâ he had always said). Adeline leaves you a carafe of coffee and shoots you a gentle smile before leaving the two of you be.
You rest on one of the couches, leg pulled up beneath you and blow over the rim of your mug.
Diluc sits adjacent from you, in a resplendent mid-morning sun beam. The chair is high-backed, upholstered with the red and gold pattern of the Ragnvindr clan. He looks regal, like a king from the stories you used to read together. Sunlight halos the frizz in his hair and the dust that shifts around him.
He sits with one heel propped up on the opposite knee, cupping the tea cup from the bottom, unbothered by its heat.
(Heâs pretty, just as beautiful as you remember. Maybe more so.)
It makes something in you feel rotten. You pick at your nails and curl over your core.Â
He glances at you and you look away into the hearth, into the small flames that eat at the last of a birch log.Â
Having Diluc in front of you is uncomfortable. Maybe worse than uncomfortable, as discomfort is bearable and the sensation crawling up from the back of your throat isnât. It makes your skin itch and feel too tight. Your palms sweat. Maybe you want to puke.
(Itâs dread, or something like it. Like just seeing him put you on a precipice you had convinced yourself didnât exist.)
âWhen did you start drinking coffee?â Diluc asks, breaking you from your spiral. âIf I recall correctly, you hated it. Too bitter for your palate, or something like that.â
Ahâ
âIn your absence. In the year I stayed here, when you left.â Itâs the truth. â Lots of paperwork. I got used to the flavor after a while.â
(You used to prefer tea, favoring some black variety that Crepus painstakingly imported from Natlanâs volcanic cliffs. The first time you tried to drink it following his passing, you retched it back into your cup.)
You both shift uncomfortably.Â
âI see.âÂ
You pretend not to notice the way Dilucâs grip goes white-knuckled for a moment. Your chest feels tight, too tight, and you squirm under your skin.Â
âI donât know how to face you,â you blurt out.Â
(You never thought you would have to.)Â
Diluc looks away from you, into the fire. âIf you donât wish to âface meâ, then you donât have to.â
âAre you suggesting I simply ignore you?â
âIf thatâs what you would wish to do.â
âThatâs not what I asked.â You frown, something burning between your ribs.Â
Diluc chews on his words for a moment. âAllow me to clarify. I have no expectations of you while youâre staying within the Winery.â
âSo, if I simply ate your food and slept in one of your beds, ignoring you, youâd be alright with that?â
âIf thatâs what you wish, then yes.â
(The answer hurts to hear. You refuse to think about why.)
âAlright.â You take a long sip of your coffee. Youâre not sure when your stomach began to ache.
âYouâre unsatisfied with that answer,â Diluc guesses.
âEntirely,â you reply. âYouâre basing your wants off of mine. Itâs bothersome.â
âItâs the truth. As I saidââ
âYou âhave no expectations of meâ,â you parrot. âWould you truly be satisfied if I didnât speak to you at all while Iâm here?â
Diluc chews the inside of his cheek (a new habit you donât recognize). âMy satisfaction isnât of consequence.â
âIdiot,â You snapâ you donât mean to. âOf course it is. I donât want to make this any more unbearable than it already is.â
âDo you think this is unbearable for me?âÂ
â⌠Yes?â You feel yourself shaking. âMaybe? I donât know.â
(Itâs worse than unbearable. The feeling in your chest is blooming, radiating out into your arms and legs, down to your hands. Thereâs a buzzing in the base of your skull.)
âI understand that itâs difficult for you to be here,â Diluc grits out. âI do not want to make that any worse by some expectation or assumption you think that I carry. If you wish to enjoy the festival and ignore me, thatâs more than fine. If it would be easier for you to stay here and think of me as only some type of⌠concierge, I wouldnât resent you for it.â
(You hate it. You hate him. You hate Diluc Ragnvindr endlessly, perhaps. You want to burn Dawn Winery to the ground.)
âDo you really think I could ever think of you as anything other than yourself?â You spit, intending to. âItâs insultingâ a fucking affront to think that I could view you in such a way.â
âI donât know how you view me.â Dilucâs voice wavers with what you can only assume to be anger. âIâm trying to make this easier for you.â
âIn what way?!â You stand. âDo you think ignoring you would be easier for me?â
âI am making a well-intended inference based on the fact that you havenât returned to Mondstadt for years.â Diluc stares at you like he wants toâ âI am assuming youâd like to continue to ignore me, given that youâve never given any indication otherwise.â
â⌠Youâre the one who left first.â You spit the words, like how a sword cuts through air. âYouâre the one who left and gave no â indicationâ of returning.â
Diluc swallows, thick and hard with a bob of his throat and he rises to his feet. You instinctively take a step back. He opens his mouth, then closes it with a snap of his teeth. The fire cracks and a log loses its structure, tumbling in the hearth with a flurry of embers.
He looks lost for words. You let loose a laugh, something awful and torn that you wish you could stuff back down your throat.
âNothing to say?â
âIt was a long time agoââ
âAh, itâs irrelevant to you. I see.â Archons, you donât want this. You shouldâve never come back. It canât be worth it, can it? It feels like your ribs are being broken, one by one.Â
(How wretched it is, for him to have such a power over you.)
âDonât twist my words.â Diluc rises, taking a step toward you. âI only meant to sayââ
âI am well-aware of what you meant to say.â You want to vomit, maybe. âIt was so long ago, so itâs easier, right? If I view you as nothing more than a doorman with a familiar face, and if you view me as a guest to be treated with pleasantries.â
(Letâs forget all the history. Etch a lie onto a slate thatâs already been shattered beyond repair.)
Dilucâs expression twists. Your hands shake and you cross them over yourself, wrapping your arms over your own shoulders and squeezing. He looks⌠hurt. Gutted.Â
âDo you think me cruel enough to ever think of you in such a way?â
âYes, actually.â You laugh with a shake of your head. âNot even a letter, Diluc? Couldnât even spare me a thought, could you?â
(Meanwhile, you clung to the hope that heâd arrive home through the front door of the Winery for months. How many did you sit in front of this very same hearth, wrapped in his old blankets and left-behind clothes and pray to any God whoâd listen that Diluc would return?)
The admission guts Diluc. You can see it in his face, the way his expression tears open and he balls his fist and he almost seems to shake with it.
(Despite everything, it hurts to see him hurt.)
You step away, almost toppling into the couch. Diluc catches you by the arm with a lurch and keeps you upright. The contact burns like youâre too close to a roaring fire. You feel singed.Â
âI canât forget, Diluc.â You laugh, shudder in his grip and you feel the bits of you fray even further. âIâ I donât know. Iâm sorry. I resent you. I hate you. I look at you and Iâm struck by the feeling that Iâm looking at a ghost.â
You watch Dilucâs jaw lock. âPot, kettle.â
âPardon?â
âYou left Mond as well, dear.â Diluc says the pet name and then flushes. An old habit, unearthed by sparring. You maybe would swoon if you werenât feeling light-headed. âYouâre a ghost to me as well. Maybe something worse.â
â... Am I? â you spit, writhing in your skin.Â
His expression tightens and you see the hurt. A crack. His lip twitches and he stands. He has to look down at you and you feel the height.Â
âDo you think I havenât been haunted by you?â
Oh, itâs like being punched in the gut. Youâre being flayed, surely, on his great room floor. If youâre not careful, your entrails will spill and youâll die here. Youâre sure.Â
âDonât lie to me.âÂ
âYouâre impossible,â Diluc says, grip almost bruising. âDo you truly think Iâm lying?â
(You donât.)
You swallow and step away from him. The moment you pull against him, Diluc lets you go, and you stumble back.Â
(Youâre too frayed for this. Burnt. Cinders at a masquerade.)
âI need some time,â you say, fire in your voice is gone. You burn down so easily. âIâm sorry.â
Diluc stays silent for a moment. You canât be sure what heâs thinking.
âTake all the time you need,â he says, before striding past you to his office. You hear the door nearly slam.Â
#lore writes#diluc ragnvindr x reader#diluc x reader#diluc x you#diluc reader insert#genshin impact x reader#diluc ragnvindr x you
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A Little More on Daemon, Nettles, and Rhaenyra from this last ask
Even though I also have said what I am going to say below many, many times about this thought anon presents, I will bring them up anyway, along with those links jic there are other new people reading from me:
Daemon stayed behind to kill Aemond/Vhagar when he could have run away with Nettle if he loved Nettles so much more than Rhaenyra
how if he wanted to kill her first three boys who aren't his and are before their shared boys in the line f succession, he would have at least tried once and/or he wouldn't have gone out of his way to avenge Lucerys' death through an act that would have always made him "unfit" to be seen as a ruler in his own right to other lords so it could only have been about true love for both Rhaenyra and her first 3 boys...you may argue that this was more out of pride and to hate the enemy, except you'd also have to underestimate Rhaenyra's regard for her own kids and herself as there was at one point where she was angry and kept herself at a distance form Daemon (or seemingly so) after 111 A.C. where he couldn't even be welcomed by her on Dragonstone
how it was Septon Eustace--who hates and twists a lot of shit abt Rhaenyra to make her seem "worse" through stuff and descriptors that are actually not really morally bad but are actually but sexist shit meant to diminish woman (pregnancy weight, throne cut that even Aegon I had atp, Mysaria who Daemon hadn't seen in years and point blank said was a "lying whore" with no demonstration of pretense to the most objective, then-observing maester mentioned in the Dance era, Norren)--who says Rhaenyra "allowed" the "cheating" b/t him and Mysaria...so she never "lost" her beauty or her looks or whatever, Septon Eustace simply said that to diminish her as much as he could...and you yourself, anon, buy into that fatphobic misogyny, so really should anyone trust how you reason things? Relying on misogyny and fatphobia, etc. can indicate low intellectualism or just plain stupidity (fatphobic sexism is closely related to racism as EUs used "fatness" to further impose standards of superiority through their years long processes of colonization but before such, "fatness" or really "thicker" bodies, esp amongst wealthy or nobles, was considered attractive bc it showed how you didn't have to work yourself to the bone to live as luxuriously or have any economic means)
Daemon didn't exist in the first few drafts of F&B/Rhaenyra's story...she was married to Lyonel Strong...Daemon was literally created specifically for Rhaenyra to function as one, if not one of the only, most devoted supporters and family members...yes Daemon and Laena had a good marriage and loved each other, but why exactly does that mean he "hated" the woman he literally died for? Weird.
Then there is this post of an anon who explains to the purposefully illiterate Daemon's reaction to Rhaenyra's letter and how it shows how he def loved her and very likely did not cheat on her. I also mention some of that anon's thoughts abt Daemon and the letter along with others in this post.
These are most of the arguments I and others had for Daemon having truly loved Rhaenyra AND her sons. they have circulated on Twitter and Tumblr for MONTHS now.
It can only be that anon hates Rhaenyra themselves and are projecting, hoping, praying canon!Daemon does as well instead of writing a fanfiction about it.
Even when we're talking about Rhaenyra's treatment of Nettles and how it mirrors Jezebel misogynoir shit--even if we can prove w/o a doubt that this was really Septon Eustace again muddling shit, as he also makes it seem Mysaria "bewitched" Rhaenyra, as he hated Mysaria as well--it'd still be projection. I know some people wish to believe and realize the idea that Daemon didn't love Rhaenyra as a sort of self-comfort and sticking it to the racist/misogynoirist white woman who some might have genuinely experienced in real life (I certainly have), but we really need to call a spade a spade and read with our eyes open.
And the narratively desired man sometimes loves/cares for the woman we hate or judge to be "unworthy" of any sort of love, that's just how it be sometimes.
Daemon loving either Rhaenyra or Nettles does nothing--inherently--to their worth as people. At least it shouldn't...or you'd just be buying into more sexist shit, which I suspect anon is already in as they also try to upset me.
#fandom misogyny#fandom critical#daemon and nettles#daemyra#nettles#daemon's characterization#fire and blood characters#rhaenyra targaryen#asoiaf#fire and blood
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Getting Lost In The Silence With You
An Emmett Lovestory
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Surprise, and Happy Halloween!!
I just wanted to make something fluffy and loving, since I'm always giving you guys angst and despair đ anywho, I hope you all enjoy this little story, I hope you're enjoying one of the best days ever, and please be safe! As always, thank you to @fuckingbyefor the amazing moldboard, and for just existing. Alright, enough of my rambling, enjoy!
Like always, Tumblr is on it's bullshit, so I'm only gonna post part of it here, and leave the link to my AO3 if you wanna read all of it.
Word Count: 15,618
Warnings: SMUT (18+ Minors DNI), Swearing, Drinking, Heartbreak, Dealing with Loss, FLUFF, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Self Doubt, A Bit of Self Loathing, uhh...I think that's it?
Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: You Are The One I Waited For, I Knew It All Along
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I do not give permission/consent for my works/stories to be posted elsewhere.
~~
You keep your giggles quiet as you feel something tickling your toes.
Emmett.
âHappy birthday,â he smiles down at you after your eyes finally open.
This has been routine for the past three years now, and you canât help but smile at the fact that you and Emmett have had each other to lean on. You wonder how something so beautiful came from such an ugly turn of events.
When Emmett found you, you were both wary of one another. He hadnât meant to find you, and you hadnât meant to find him. He stumbled across where youâd been hiding, searching for materials to stock up on. The second he found you hiding, you both pulled your guns on one another. While you were more than sure that he could see the fear in your eyes, you saw the emptiness and despair in his. Yet the longer he looked at you and the more you shook, the softer his features became.
He held a finger against his lips, a sign for you to be quiet, and slowly led you out of the closet. You warily grabbed the few of the things you had and followed him. Youâre not sure why you followed him to this day.
âWhat were you doing there?â he asked softly, once you two had reached where he was hiding out, putting away the few supplies he was able to scrounge up on his trip.
âThe same thing everyone else whoâs alive is trying to do. Hiding.â
âThatâs a terrible hiding spot.â
âIt worked out just fine for me for the last two months.â
âAre you alone?â
Silence.
He turned around to see you standing there, eyes watering as you tried to look anywhere but at him.
Youâd been alone for a year at the time. There hadnât been anyone youâd confided in, and you didnât find yourself wanting to know anyone. The last person in life died in your arms and youâd decided to keep to yourself from then on out. It just felt like the best idea; the safest in this world surrounded by danger.
âI donât mean to be harsh, you just...that spot was dangerous. Even more so if youâre alone. Have a seat. Have you eaten today?â
âDonât eat much,â you mumbled, taking a seat at his table, looking around the empty space. âI donât hunt unless I have to.â
âIâll get you something, just sit tight,â he told you softly.Â
You looked around and saw the different drawings, a few pictures, and wondered how long itâd been since he lost everyone.
âTh-thank you,â you told him softly, pulling out a bottle of wine and setting it on the table.
Seemed like a pretty decent peace offering.Â
âWhere the hell did you get that?â he half smiled, coming over and picking up the bottle in admiration.Â
âSome of itâs self made, others are from...before.â
âHow old are you?â
âWhatâs the date?â
âOctober 31st.â
You smiled and shook your head, wiping away a few tears, âIâm 27 today.â
He offered a sympathetic smile, âhappy birthday.â
And thatâs how it started. You never intended on staying with him, and youâre more than sure he never meant to let you stay, but you both soon found that you enjoyed the company of each another. Itâd been a long time since either of you had people in your lives, and it just felt nice to have someone around.
Even if you two didnât say much to each other for the first few months.
Every once in a while, heâd hear you crying and sit by you, softly placing his hand over yours and youâd squeeze it softly. Other times, heâd have restless nights, tossing and turning for hours, and youâd just sit by him and take his hand until he felt at ease. In exchange of him getting food, you taught him how to make his own wine and vodka. You would share books, and every now and again youâd both go to the nearby falls together just to hear something.
This stayed a constant for months until he found you listening to your iPhone one day.
âHow do you still have one of those?â he marveled, putting a plate of venison in front of you.
Deer was his specialty.
âMy best friend figured out to make a battery one night,â you laughed softly. âShe was drunk as shit, but real determined to make it work. She refused to lose all of the comforts from the way things used to be. It was the last gift she ever gave me. Iâm not the best when it comes to things like that, so I try not to use it often. I donât wanna end up breaking it and being fucked,â you finished with a scoff as you pressed âpauseâ and set it aside.
âWhatâs special about today?â
âItâs Christmas Eve.â
âExplains why itâs so damn cold,â he muttered, and you laughed softly. âAnything good on there?â
âDepends on what your definition of good is,â you smirked, pouring the both of you a cup of wine. âBeing a Jersey girl, thereâs a lot of Springsteen on there-â
âYouâre from Jersey?â he questioned before he realized he cut you off, âIâm sorry, I didnât mean to...â
âNo, itâs okay. Weâve never talked about it. Um yeah, I was born and raised in New Jersey. My parents moved to Millbrook after I went off to college. I was here visiting when...when everything happened. Got stuck,â you chuckled humorlessly. âAt least I donât have to worry about paying off my college loans,â you muttered as you cut up your deer and Emmett laughed.
It was the first time youâd actually heard him laugh.
~~
You can read the rest here.
taglist: @autumnrose40
#fanfic#fan fiction#fan fic#fanfiction#A Quiet Place 2#A Quiet Place II#Emmett#emmett x reader#emmett x you#cillian murphy character#cillian murphy characters#Emmett x Y/N
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Tumblr kept breaking when I tried to reply to the ask about this since the post is too long, so answering this here finally:
A non-comprehensive list of misc things Iâd change in HoO, since apparently people wanted me to elaborate further (Re: [This post]). Semi-off the top of my head since I donât feel like re-reading all of HoO with notations right now. Also this will be followed up by a Things I Would Change About TOA post as well at some point, since that was also requested and kept breaking, but my brain is exhausted from getting this post set up so that will wait. I will link it [here] when I complete it.
Going under a read-more cause itâs very long. Literally Tumblr crashed like three times while I was trying to answer the original ask:
As said before (and what is a given):
1. Goes without saying - fix all the distasteful offensive character descriptions/traits. Similarly, fix the whole "these characters inexplicably look down upon their cultures" cause that's stupid and it's really annoying every time one of the Argo 2 crew brings up something about their cultures only to immediately go "but THAT'S SILLY and WEIRD."
2. Remove Calypso from the active plot, rather than the current canon retconning that doesnât work saying that she was never actually released from Ogygia like she was supposed to be. There's no excuse for why she wasn't, unless it's supposed to be the gods sent Leo to release her to fulfill that promise, but that's not really implied to be the case at all. There's no excuse for the Olympians to just go back on their promise, since Hephaestus is established to visit Calypso regularly and basically is her only friend. It isnât the type of thing heâd let be overlooked given all the characterization we know about Hephaestus, and given they are explicitly friends it canât be that Olympus just âforgotâ either. Also Calypso doesn't actually add anything to the plot of HoO or TOA besides serving as a love interest for Leo (not even a motive, just a love interest that "fixes him,â because he already has motive in saving Jason from being the hero of the prophecy and helping save the Argo 2 crew/camp/etc from Gaea etc etc. Leo's romance arc completely derails the established depressive spiral/destructive character arc that's been set up for him and it basically ruins Leo's entire character. He's a tragic character! Let him be tragic until he's done being tragic and then the end of BoO and TOA can be him starting his recovery arc! (I have some thoughts for how Calypso could work removed from HoO but an active character in TOA but thatâll be for the TOA post.)
If Leo still ends up on Ogygia, then have it be clear that Calypso's already left and the island is abandoned (which imo is WAY more narratively compelling for readers of the first series, because you already know the context of the island, but for readers who don't have that context it leads to this being an interesting mystery - who was Calypso? What was this island and why do all the signs/notes left by her imply she wasn't always alone but usually was and was desperate to leave?) and Leo has to collect the scraps left behind to build an escape for himself while he goes through a fun identity crisis. At some point maybe Hephaestus shows up and Leo gets an interaction with his dad that probably does not help his identity crisis and then he goes back to the Argo 2 to have a further identity crisis about how the rest of the crew got along in his absence (a good identity crisis or a bad identity crisis? depends on how they did without him! you decide! I personally like "they managed okay" and Leo feels Really Horrible About That Cause It Feels To Him Like They Don't Need Him. I like Leo's tragic arc, okay? It's compelling.) Iirc Leoâs also the only member of the Seven who doesnât get to have some kind of direct conversation with their godly parent, at least in-person, so yknow. Itâd be nice to have. Also if you want Aro/ace Leo Valdez this is the perfect spot to put it while he's having his identity crisis on Kiss Kiss Fall In Love Island, or when he gets back.
3. Jason's stab wound in BoO is not healed by the Power Of Friendship, and instead they use the Physician's Cure for that so it doesn't feel like they're literally deus ex machina-ing their way to cheating death like 3 times in the same book. It makes more sense to use Potion Of Don't Die on Wound Of Excruciatingly Painfully Slowly Killing You instead of Whoops You're Already Dead, Just Get Better. Ctrl+Z That Real Quick.
Given they already used the Physicianâs Cure on Jason, Leo doesnât die/get revived at the end of BoO. Instead he just almost dies, probably lands in CHBâs woods somewhere, and is found and patched up with the series ending on him being on the mend and starting on the path to healing and getting help for his Numerous Issues that he was putting off for The Entire Series. Which parallels nicely to Nico basically having the same thing (overexerting his powers to near death, ends series getting medical treatment/being on the mend and the indication that heâs moving on to a happier period of his life). Again, grand happy ending rather than aggravating fake-out.
Further notes:Â
- Heavily tweak Ella's character cause I get what Rick was going for, but the execution is⌠not awesome! Please, there's already so much ableism in HoO just. hmm. We can do better.
- Jason and Piper break up in HoO, probably around MoA when they start seeing Percy and Annabeth interacting and after theyâve had time to hang out with each other and realize their arranged relationship is Kind Of Fucked Up, Actually. (Probably something something them having gotten to spend time actually getting to know each other between TLH and MOA while theyâre both at camp.) They have no problems with each other specifically and do genuinely like each other, but it just gets really awkward given all the memory manipulation and being set up as a "picture perfect couple" - emphasizing stuff like them both being children of really famous movie stars in their universe, or Jason as a son of Jupiter/Jove (an "all-father" type god) [and Juno - mother figure goddess and goddess of marriage]/"son of Rome" and Piper as a daughter of Aphrodite (goddess of love, also Aphrodite/Venus indirectly is associated as a sort of "mother of Rome" due to Aeneas). They just feel like they have too many expectations being put on their relationship and even though they do both like each other it feels too forced for them, but theyâre comfortable staying just friends. This just gives way more opportunity for low-stakes character conflict among the Argo II crew outside of Monster Of The Week Chapter so things donât feel unreasonably busy and chaotic and we actually get some consistent development. Just a nice mini-arc to follow in the downtime. Also while weâre here, more directly establish Piperâs bisexuality earlier on. If sheâs already having an arc where sheâs contemplating her romantic life, throw in a couple of nods to like âPiper thinking about her old childhood crush on Shel, the kid of a family friend sheâd see when her and her dad visited Oklahomaâ or something. Literally anything just to establish some kind of set-up to her getting a girlfriend later. Just for consistencyâs sake.
- Bunkernine has a very good post about wishing the Argo II didn't have the magic plates from CHB, which I agree with in concept. Like I was just saying, MoA through BoO lacks a lot of little moments where we get to really focus in on the characters, probably in part because Rick was struggling to juggle so many parties given this was his first foray into writing a major cast that size. We can definitely cut out a lot of the random unnecessary fights and dramatic moments that don't really do anything for the plot and instead replace them with little moments of casual life on the Argo II - the scenes like those that do exist in HoO are some of HoO's most memorable moments to me! And they'd help a lot with how the characters never felt fully and properly fleshed-out. Let them exist as a cohesive group without two-to-three of them being absent at any given time! I don't think we necessarily have to remove the magic plates entirely because they do solve a fundamental problem ("where are these kids getting food?") but like, there is nothing stopping them from still cooking and just using the plates to get ingredients! Let these kids bake or something! Even just for fun! Though also I have personal headcanons about the Argo II crew's cooking skills and I really like the concept of like, during HoH or something at like 3am everybody hears something and they all suspiciously shuffle into the mess hall. And itâs just half-dead Nico standing there in his PJs making food for himself because Dammit They're IN VENICE and heâs FROM VENICE and they DONâT HAVE TIME TO STOP AT HIS OLD FAVORITE RESTAURANTS THAT MAY OR MAY NOT STILL EXIST and he Hasn't Had A Proper Meal In Weeks so By The Gods He Will Make His Mom's Old Recipes At 3am before he keels over from this quest. He just stares at everybody and goes "What are you all looking at. go away." and the rest of the crew just shuffles away awkwardly and leaves him to it. (Is Nicoâs 3am meal actually good? Who knows. It is left a mystery.)
- Tweak the god characterizations. Remove the "gods splitting" thing and maybe play more with different aspects of gods/verisons of gods across history/city-states/etc presenting themselves instead. The Roman gods are not wholly equivilent to the Greek gods and it's actually really interesting from a historical perspective, and I think there's a lot you could do with that but instead it gets flatted in HoO which is sad to me. Just generally though, with the god characterizations, like. [uncomfortable pagan noises]. Which is almost impressive because it is difficult to write the Greco-Roman pantheons poorly since a good portion of them are basically just very complicated metaphors turned into personifications and characters. So they work fine for narrative purposes when applied accordingly, and yet! and yet!! Rick managed it! He managed to really bungle it in HoO and TOA. Because instead of leaning into the aspects of metaphors and dynamic characters he just fell into 2D tropes, gimmicks, and stereotypes. Off the top of my head the only deities written Okay in HoO is like. Hades/Pluto and Thanatos. (even Chiron in TOA is extremely lackluster, it's sad.) In the first series it ranges from âokayâ to âactually really interestingâ so itâs sad to see that drop-off and I would like it to be fixed.
Some potential examples for this: Play with the historical ties combo of like, Athena, Minerva, Enyo, Bellona, and etc! Annabeth and Reyna parallels! if the first 2 books are about the trios, let MoA be about Annabeth and Reyna and both their connections to Athena(/Bellona). Let Reyna be a second half in the Athena prophecy! It'd be cool and fit with her thematically and would set-up the whole Getting-Blessed-By-Athena thing later in BoO and make that scene feel so much cooler!
- Also retcon the whole "Hestia appears as an 8 year old for no reason" thing. And maybe also Artemis only appearing as a teen, because while Artemis has a mythological excuse, Hestia doesn't, so it just feels weird and at worst comes off as a little aphobic (depicting a character who explicitly is uninterested in relationships/romantic love as a child despite them being an immortal god with no basis for appearing as a child or even being comparatively young to other gods) with how it relates to aphobic tropes about disinterest in romance being "childish".
- Remove the "no children of Minerva" thing. Also maybe emphasize the aro/ace vibes there cause Athena being implied to be the only ace character in the entire series who a.) isn't literally a child/teen nor appears as one, and/or b.) hasn't had an unfortunate relationship that makes them disinterested in romance, but also at the same time being the only one out of herself/Hestia/Artemis to have relationships of some sort (having kids, implied to possibly be romantic but unclear) issss bad! actually! Bad tropes, don't like that. (Again aphobic tropes of disinterest in romance being âchildishâ and something that can be grown out of, or a result of trauma. Also it feels weird that the only a-spec characters in the series are all women. Can we have a male a-spec character please.) Just let Athena be aro/ace and vibing and occasionally having brain children cause she can do what she wants and everyone is aware of this and chill with it (And being a-spec doesnât mean sheâd be disinterested in having kids). Also maybe make her feel less cold cause "a-spec character is cold and loveless" is also an aphobic trope that PJO!Athena falls into, actually.
- Speaking of aphobic tropes, fix the Hunters! Please. Please just redo the Hunters of Artemis entirely. Holy cow. I wrote up an entire alternate oath/rules set for the Hunt because it's just so weird and poorly done. There were male Hunters of Artemis in Greek Mythology! Multiple! And most of them were chill! The "swearing off all romance" thing is also questionable, because depending on what versions of myths youâre looking at itâs potentially implied the Hunters had romantic relationships among themselves. And in Greek Mythology all the Hunters were definitely not all pre-teens. And it feels especially bad that the only adult Hunters we ever see are explicitly ex-Hunters who are heavily implied to be not ace and definitely aren't aro and are also implied to have "grown out of" being disinterested in romance. (That gagging noise you hear is me being sick of how many aphobic tropes the Hunters are juggling).
The version of the Hunters i have written up is, and I quote (from my notes): "Hunters can be any age, species, and gender identity (so long as they are comfortable enough being occasionally referred to as âHuntresses,â âSisters,â âMaidens,â and etc). Relationships between Hunters are allowed so long as it will not endanger/distract from the Hunt or endanger any other Huntresses. Having a child is not allowed within the Hunt and any Huntresses who wish to do so must leave (purely because having a pregnant person/young child on the Hunt is dangerous, and safety is the number one priority - especially as Artemis is a protector of youth and goddess of childbirth. Once they turn like, 12 they can join, thatâs fine. Everyone knows middle schoolers are the optimal combination of bloodthirstiness and ability to wield a weapon)." Also, just as like, a side-thing, I wanna see a clear-sighted mortal Huntress, because we're told thats a thing but we never see them. Closest we get is like ancient semi-immortals and Technical Nymphs, or other Huntresses who are of unspecified mortal/demigod status.
- Similar deal - fix the Amazons. they're⌠better but still a little wonky.
- Some slight tweaks to the Cupid Scene - Nico still has a confrontation with Cupid cause that is a very compelling scene that works well for Nico's character and informs a lot about him (and serves a purpose in a very meta way - not so much for the plot but reflecting something the first series did occasionally which was a kind of showing an example of a situation, usually a negative situation that either mirrors or directly references a type of situation a kid may find themself in, and explains and shows sympathy for the character being hurt in that situation. Which is notable because the demographic for the series is young middle schoolers and particularly neurodivergent kids, who are probably approaching a lot of new social situations or may struggle with empathy. It acts as an introduction to âunfortunately this is a bad thing that happens sometimes, and it hurts people, which is why you should be nice to this kid. Look at beloved character. Hereâs an elaboration on why theyâre hurt so you can understand.â So for the purposes of that, the scene of Nico getting outed would likely remain, but it would still keep the very overt âWOW THIS SUCKS, THIS IS A BAD SITUATION.â stuff) Most of the tweaks are just slight adjustments to minor prelude dialogue and/or setting, like. Jason does not forget that being gay is a thing for a second. And etc. But Nico having a very literal metaphorical conflict about grappling with how he views the concept of love by LITERALLY GETTING KICKED AROUND BY THE GOD OF LOVE is actually kinda badass from a narrative analysis perspective. This is exactly what i meant in the previous bullet points about the gods in a lot of myths and classical stories playing the roles of personifications of metaphors and that being used well. Admittedly I'm 50/50 on tweaking Cupid's general attitude in the scene itself, because a more hostile Cupid lends itself better to the meta use of the scene as described before but a more sympathetic-to-Nico Cupid who is nonetheless still kicking the shit out of him is interesting from a metaphor standpoint (something something Nico overcoming internalized homophobia but in the very literal form of itâs the god that literally presides over protecting gay love [yes that is an actual thing Eros/Cupid is the god of] beating him up).
- Remove Reyna's âprophecyâ entirely. It's stupid and pointless and doesnât make sense with her character at all. Just say she's ace. There is not a single scene in any of the series that ever indicates that Reyna believes that she can only be happy if sheâs in a relationship and thatâs some kind of internal struggle she needs to overcome. The closest we ever get is Reyna being upset that her best friend disappeared and when he returns she finds out he had forgotten about her completely. Which does not apply to the âprophecyâ at all. We just donât need it.
- Absence of "a character" can work! Jason's lack of personality and backstory can work but it works best if it's absence is felt and properly explored. This works best if we get more information about Camp Jupiter from SoN and from the other Roman characters, especially Reyna (and maybe even Nico referencing his trips there!) because that inherently informs us about what Jason's life was like there. Have other characters note things about Jason and highlight the fact that this is absent from Jason's own POV! He's lost that part of his life! It was taken from him! That's such an interesting dynamic to have and explore! But we don't get any of that!
Side-note: Part of the problem with Jason's amnesia is that it feels so awkward especially compared to Percy's amnesia because we already know what Percy can't remember. We have the context that informs his character, even though he can't remember it, so that absence is felt and it feels really compelling! Also, Percy is unfamiliar with Camp Jupiter, and we're unfamiliar with Camp Jupiter, so it feels new and interesting (even though we don't actually get much about it so we never actually form any real attachment to it and that's a problem later on in every subsequent scene when we're supposed to care about what happens to Camp Jupiter but we. don't). The reason it doesn't work for Jason is because we don't know what's absent and we already know CHB. Jason also already knows about demigods and stuff, so if you're a new reader starting at HoO it just doesn't work. Because Jason already knows everything and we're being led from his POV primarily for that portion of TLH, and even Piper and Leo's backstories both heavily include being pushed around by Gaea/and or Hera/Juno, so if you aren't familiar with the universe you're just being hurried along and it ends up feeling weak. At least with Percy even if you don't know the contexts of his backstory, we can feel the implications of other characters referencing things about him extremely often, so you feel the weight of his memories being gone, and he doesn't know about the roman gods and you, the reader, aren't expected to know much if anything about it either. We donât get the full demigod debriefing (but that's also the second book) but we at least get a Camp Jupiter debriefing. The first two books are a bit messy in those specific regards with setting up the camps for the series, and we donât really see the camps much for the rest of HoO (except for CHB, of course).
This is personally why I stand by that if we ever get a roman series it should be a three-part series from Reyna's POV, because leading with Jason is basically like trying to lead PJatO with Annabeth - a demigod raised in camp and surrounded by the knowledge of this stuff their entire life. It doesn't work as a character who's acting as an introduction to this world for the reader. There's no real clean way to work that out for HoO unfortunately, since literally all our protagonists are given established pasts involving knowledge of Greco-Roman mythology being real and half of them are either already at camp or have been to a different camp. I'd say best solution would probably actually be leading from Piper for TLH and tweak her character set-up slightly in that she Does Not Know What's Going On At All re: Gaea and the Giants. She just knows Something Happened To Her Dad and she's the POV we follow into TLH, because that mirrors Percy in beginning of TLT well (with Sally being kidnapped)! It's a fun call-back for the old readers and a good lead-in for the new readers.
- Fix Nico backstory inconsistencies caused by Rick almost making his birthday in March and confusing himself over it. He's 12 in TLO, 13 in HoO. He was born January 28th, 1929, and got put in the Lotus Hotel and Casino in 1939 (If you wanna be cute, we can specifically say May 1st, 1939, to reference the musical). Hazel is one month older than him chronologically and one year older than him post-revival. Something something also smooth out the inconsistencies about Nico being raised in Italy and how Maria met Hades and stuff. Fill in the rest as you will.
- I do stand by that the entire PJO timeline is not one-to-one with the real world. That's always been a thing with the series. We're basically condensing everything from ~1998 to ~2020 into an 18 year timeline. We don't need to be exact with things. Don't get too bogged down with it.
- Make the whole "injuries caused by celestial bronze/imperial gold for demigods makes their souls self-destruct" thing specifically relating to cursed weapons/materials or feature some more volatile abomination combo weapons like Backbiter (with Backbiter being described as unstable due to being both celestial bronze and mortal steel). (Ex.: the spear used to stab Jason in BoO is just cursed, and maybe Octavian's catapult plan is a "well i put a bunch of mortal steel and imperial gold in a pot and melted them together a bit and now it really wants to explode so im gonna just chuck the entire thing and hope it kills everyone lots and lots <3" which is tbh significantly more dastardly and fucked-up, which makes Octavian a bit more compelling). Having it just be a plain trait of celestial bronze/imperial gold doesnât make any sense and is only referenced like twice in HoO and never again in basically the entire three series. Again: consistency.
- Make a more prominent reference to the whole "btw there are retired adult Romans just living wherever but they're legally required to help any campers who request aid" thing, cause you could totally do something really fun and cool with that but idk what.
- PICK A THEME! First series theme was family! Second series theme isâŚ.. we donât know! It felt like maybe a theme was intended at some point but we lost it. Forging a new life for oneâs self/choosing your own path/etc could be a good theme, or something similar. or found family. or both. Weâve got a bunch of characters absolutely ripe for âI didnât think iâd get this far and now I have to like, actually consider what i want to do in life. huhâ arcs! (Frank! Leo! Hazel! Jason! Percy! Nico!) Do something with that!
- Lean more into the characters having aspects inspired by myths, or legends being mirrored in plot points: 7 against Thebes, the Argonauts, etc etc etc. The first series leaning into it heavily worked really well! More of that! HoO and TOA suffer a lot from lack of mythological basis to lean their plots on, despite there being plenty to work from. It instead just kind of messily mashes random misc myths (haha, alliteration) together into a very incoherent plot. Annabeth is known to be explicitly based off Atalanta, Percy is mostly based off Perseus and Theseus, Leo has loose connections based off of Demophon of Eleusis and possibly also his brother Triptolemus, etc etc. Thereâs stuff to work with! Poke around at the mythological figures of the original Argo and maybe match them up a bit (though most of the Argonaut myths were used in Sea of Monsters, so focus more on the figures/archetypes rather than just exact myths of what they did. For more plot-things, maybe consider Seven Against Thebes, though admittedly the plot of that is just Kinda Depressing.)
- Slightly related to that - lean into Piper presumably mirroring Orpheus! Or even if she isnât supposed to, let her do that, because it fits with her thematically SUPER well. Her charmspeak is OP and that needs to be appreciated. In canon she brings Jason back from the brink of death in TLH and just straight up gives Festus a soul/free will/sentience. Let her go Orpheus-mode on everybody. You can even tie that in with the half-hearted snake theme that Rick tried to throw in there that didnât work at all. We can make this work, just lean into it. Itâll be fun.
- Remove scene of Nico confessing to Percy at end of BoO. itâs just. random and feels sudden and OOC. Give Nico time. You could maybe replace it by having him come out to Reyna on his own terms while theyâre on their quest discussing their adventures thus far and them having a very sweet little emotional moment rather than it being a weird out-of-place afterthought comical scene.
- Remove Bob and Damacus. Theyâre just half-literal dues ex machinas for Percabeth in Tartarus that donât make sense. It feels extremely cheap and doesnât fit with the established mythos of either figure (and Bob feels extra awkward without the context of knowing Sword of Hades). If they do run into a figure who helps them out in Tartarus, Arke could possibly be a good option - especially since in SoN Percy meets Iris. Thereâs a lot potentially you could do there with Percy mistaking her for her twin and stuff like that. If we want a figure to more-so take the role that Bob fills (Nico encouraging an immortal to be sympathetic to Percy and thus indirectly helping him later) that role could be filled by Nyx instead of making her a minor antagonist - imply Nico encountered Nyx in Tartarus or something and she took pity on him as someone who also understands the dark, and he told her about Percy and so Nyx is willing to help Percabeth escape. Plus imagine how COOL a Nyx & her children vs Tartarus/Titans/Giants fight would be. Thatâd be a significantly more memorable scene than the Tartarus fight scenes we did get. (âWhy would Nyx help though?â One of Nyxâs kids is LITERALLY a goddess of friendship [Philotes], we have excuses.)
- On a similar note, this is more of a TSATS thing, but for goodnessâ sake STOP THROWING CHARACTERS INTO TARTARUS. Youâre overusing it! It only works when we use it sparingly! In fact, just in general Tartarus works better the less we see of it! Nico going through Tartarus once in SoN-MoA, yes, that works! Especially since we have almost no idea what happened to him down there, just that it was Terrifying and Horrible and he Barely Survived. Not going into much detail means we get more out of it. The only exception to that really was when Percy realized that Nico saw Tartarus as it truly was the entire time, because thatâs one hell (ha) of a punch to the gut in terms of added information! Percabeth falling into Tartarus in MoA? Eh, fine, sure, because weâve established that Nico (who is implied to be more resilient to that environment on virtue of being a child of Hades) talked about his experiences down there so they know what to expect and how to survive. Though it does kind of just feel like Rick went âOh wait hey I can use this to make angst!â and then overused the hell out of it. It feels way weaker in general in HoH because of how much detail we get, because Tartarus has been built up so much until that point that literally anything we get will feel lackluster in comparison, especially with how it kind of feels like Percabeth just. breezed through it with little more difficulty than theyâd usually face on their quests. Solangelo jumping into Tartarus in TSATS is honestly just a blatant âOh boy we can make Solangelo into Percabeth 2!â and it doesnât work at all because NICO HAS ALREADY BEEN TO TARTARUS.
The only way you could make Nico going into Tartarus two times work is if he fell into Tartarus a second time to replace Percabeth falling down there. Because weâve established he knows what itâs like down there, he survived it once, and he is actively sparing someone else he cares about from suffering his same fate. And then he can return once again even closer to death and A Little Fucked Up and it turns into a rule of threes where we know âOh, Nico canât go back to Tartarus again because if he does heâll Lose Himself Completelyâ which is way more interesting than romance angst for the sake of romance angst. Especially since again, we donât see it, itâs all only implied. Also it then also turns Tartarus into even more of a âNico is probably the only demigod who could ever even hope to survive Tartarusâ which keeps Tartarus as an ominous thing. Percabeth falling into Tartarus lessens that by a lot because it implies that it doesnât matter that Nico is a child of Hades; that had absolutely no bearing on his ability to survive down there. TL;DR: Stop throwing characters into Tartarus. Either throw Nico in twice in a row and no Percabeth or Nico and Percabeth once only and never touch it again.
- More heavily set up Percyâs emotions/mood/etc being influenced by water around him. If we keep most of Percabeth in Tartaurs, then this would really make the Achlys scene pack a bigger punch. Up until HoH everything is âoh how quirkyâ but the minute Percyâs surrounded by the rivers of the underworld and the acid/poision you get hit with the âoh shitâ realization that Percy Is About To Get SCARY.
- Maybe have Annabeth keep her blindness from Tartarus, or trade Jason having glasses to her having glasses as a result of that, since vision is actually an aspect of Athena so it kind of fits her more, thematically-speaking.
- Change the judo flip percabeth scene in MoA to Annabeth picking Percy up and spinning him around in a hug/swinging him into a dip cause thatâs cuter, makes more sense given Percyâs PTSD, and still highlights Annabeth being very strong and showing off in front of the Romans while theyâre still being lovey-dovey.
But also, related to that, you could potentially make a sub-arc for Percabeth throughout HoO (so that they actually have like. some type of character development that fits them rather than them feeling stagnant the entire time) about Annabeth learning she doesnât know as much about Percy as she thought (learning about Gabe [since as far as we know she actually doesn't know much if anything about that!], seeing his behavior change with different types of water, etc) kicked off by the judo flip scene, and possibly vice versa (Percy learning more about Annabethâs time spent traveling with Thalia and Luke, growing up at CHB, her relationship with Athena and other campers at CHB, etc) so they gain a deeper understanding of one another. If Percy keeps his curse of Achilles, that could also factor in (contrasting Percyâs âperfectâ image [relationship, near-immortality] against Annabeth realizing she doesnât know as much about Percy as she thought [could also parallel that dynamic to Jaspiper, which opens opportunities for Annabeth/Piper and Jason/Percy bonding] [Or Annabeth/Jason and Piper/Percy bonding! I want more Annabeth/Jason and Piper/Percy parallels so bad. Theyâre almost there but we never get them. Please.]/ the Argo II crew learning about Percyâs past) with Percy being more prone to seek out conflict or solve problems with violence due to the Curse of Achilles and eventually recognizing that [possibly after Tartarus] and it scaring him just as much as it frightens Annabeth. Maybe at that point Percy tries to make some sort of deal to rid himself of the curse.)
- Maybe also explicitly parallel Percy getting the curse of Achilles with Nicoâs help to Poseidon giving his lover Caeneus iron skin. Thereâs no really smooth way to do it, but maybe even just a during Nicoâs pov him going âI heard about this myth once and got an idea. It didnât work.â Just for that added through-line of connecting the series and further establishing âyeah, no, Nicoâs been gay this whole time. this isnât a new thing. we arenât pulling this from thin air.â
- Give Piper a different weapon than the knife from the beginning cause she stops using it eventually anyways. Also just... no cornucopia. That part is just stupid and thereâs no point for it. If we have to keep it as a plot object, give it to someone else - Nico could work because then thereâs actually at least a valid relation there regarding his godly parent (yes, Pluto sometimes has cornucopia associations). Also Nico having a cornucopia would be kinda funny in a subversion of expectations thing. Maybe even have Nico go on a little exposition-y rant complaining about Hades/Pluto versus Plutus (the Greek god of plenty/wealth, later merged with Pluto).
- Similarly, either remove Diocletianâs scepter (if we have multiple characters who can boss around skeletons, why do we need an entire separate extra object whose sole purpose is to let them boss around skeletons?) or let Nico keep it but it loses its abilities, so itâs literally just âwell now he has a cool bashing stick for bashing things.â Or let him use it as a cane to highlight him being disabled!
- As I slightly touched upon in a previous bullet point, give Piper more connections to her dadâs community in Oklahoma - whereâs all her family friends? Tristan is a major pop culture figure in the Riordanverse, so itâd make sense that people from the community he grew up in would like. know him? But all we ever hear about is Piperâs Grandpa Tom. Even though apparently Piper is already good enough friends with Shel presumably before Piper moves to Oklahoma that the two start dating soon afterwards. Heck, again, have Piper reference Shel specifically. Just at any point. For any reason. Just to establish that she knows people her own age that exist outside of CHB.
Similarly, flesh out the background Romans in Camp Jupiter more in SoN and possibly also BoO, particularly the ones Jason references by name but we never see anything of, besides at most maybe more background references. Highlight them either through the SoN trio interacting with more characters while at camp (and weâre left to glean specific details of Jasonâs past through others, which would make Jason more compelling and how these details are absent from himself but present to those around him, playing into his memory loss more) and possibly also through Reyna (and maybe Nico)âs POV(s) in BoO. (And maybe if we get a Reyna POV in MoA, then there as well).
- Let Reyna use magic! We establish that she studied under Circe and then never see anything come of that other than referencing her Tragic Backstoryâ˘. It could be a fun point for Reyna and Hazel to bond over, even!
- Remove the random âHunters of Artemis death fodderâ scene with Orion in BoO. Thereâs no reason for that. Itâs just kinda dumb and feels bad given itâs basically just âWeâre gonna kill a bunch of nondescript allegedly a-spec coded characters now for no reason. <3â like ???. That served no purpose. It just felt weird.
- Also just as a like, logistics thing - change the route Team Statue takes in BoO from the huge jump over the Atlantic into Peurto Rico into them traveling up into like the UK, then over to Iceland and Greenland and then Canada and down the east coast rather than the huge jump and up the east coast. The smaller jumps make more sense given the entire POINT of their quest taking as long as it does is that Nico canât make extremely large shadow-travel jumps at that time. Plus if theyâre traveling south then they could pass through Maine and we could maybe cameo Nicoâs old school and thatâd be fun. The pit-stop in Puerto Rico doesnât really give us much that we couldnât have just gotten from Reyna explaining it anyways. If they pause in Maine that can be where Nico and Reyna have a heart-to-heart about their tragic backstories and past experiences with horrible ghosts that they had to exorcise.
- If Team Statue travels a northern route we can make jokes about Nico learning specifically 1930s British English before he moved to America. The gang goes to London and Coach proceeds to incessantly make fun of Nico for not only using British slang, but using OUTDATED British slang (which is made weirder given he doesnât have a British accent).
- Also extremely tiny detail but a specific acknowledgement that Piper was helping out Nico once they got back to the ship when Nicoâs getting rescued from the jar. Since Piper just kind of drags him off-screen. Just any kind of follow-up to that. Like Nico doing his classic âYou were vaguely nice to me. I would now Die For You.â Just them having basically any kind of interaction or acknowledgement of that scene, mostly cause I think itâs funny.
- Let Annabeth keep her laptop, and get rid of the sphere of Archimedes cause it just feels kinds pointless and random? We donât really have any emotional connection to Annabethâs laptop (and her hat gets replaced in Demigods & Magicians anyways) so her losing it doesnât really feel impactful at all. Maybe have Leo use Annabethâs laptop while sheâs in Tartarus and that acts as the point of guilt for him rather than weird random curse stuff with a random new introduced object. Instead of âoh no fortune cookie thing or whateverâ itâs him feeling guilty he saved Annabethâs laptop but couldnât help Annabeth herself. Especially since Leo would also have his Ogygia identity crisis in the same book so he can feel extra bad about himself for a bit, to lead up to his role in BoO nicely (sometimes a character negatively spiraling is more narratively compelling than them having positive development for the majority of the series and thatâs okay! Let him be tragic but again he gets a happy ending and an implication post-BoO that heâll begin a road of healing/recovery surrounded by loved ones. It works out.) AND there could be a very sweet moment once Annabeth gets back from Tartarus and Leo gives her the laptop back and itâs a huge relief to her that one of her prized possessions was in safe hands while she was gone and that she has it back when she thought she might have lost it.
- Further highlight Jasonâs whole Greek/Roman/etc identity crisis. Bonus points if we go further into acknowledging Jupiter/Zeusâs epithets and roles and Jason having some epiphany that the Romans look to him with the expectations of Jupiter/Juno as king and queen of the gods making him some kind of perfect leader, but heâs not that at all. Heâs the son of Jove and Juno, father and mother of the gods. He doesnât want to be a general or praetor or anything like that, he wants to spend time with his friends and family at a summer camp where theyâre safe. He wants to regain the childhood he lost being raised as a perfect soldier and get the chance to go to school and learn about his long-lost family and do cheesy summer camp activities. He is a wolf but he is not a creature built for the hunt - he is part of a pack.
- Touched upon it briefly in a previous bullet point but Curse of Achilles can stay/go, does not particularly matter to me either way. I do think itâd be funny though if Percy does keep the Curse of Achilles that he also randomly gets the Nemean Lionâs pelt back. Initially maybe as like a gift from Hera/Juno to help him cover his Achillesâ Heel while heâs running around with no memory just as insurance so he doesnât die (with bonus points of the Romans being introduced to Percy either wearing the stupidest looking coat ever or wearing just a straight up bullet-proof lionâs pelt, which would even further solidify his âAre We Sure This Guy Isnât A God In Disguiseâ vibes). But then later on into the series itâs just kind of part of his outfit or maybe even a running gag. The praetors have their magic bullet-proof cloaks, Percy has a very silly looking bullet-proof fur coat that is sometimes a whole lion.
- Keep Hazelâs blackouts. Thereâs not really a reason for them to disappear altogether for her? Theyâre somewhat tied to her powers and are a consequence of her coming back from the dead, which also helps keep the concept running in the series that death is a consequence that canât just be easily evaded, even while weâre operating with the Doors of Death being open. That way future deaths in the series donât feel like they could be as easily negated/avoided. Also, Hazel is disabled! This is a disability of hers! Why are we somehow magically getting rid of it without even an explanation as to why? Heck, if weâre getting rid of Piperâs knife, Hazelâs dreams when she has her blackouts could be used to supplement the daggerâs insight into the future, since weâve already established that Hazel gets prophetic dreams sometimes anyways. Also fun thematic matching for the Death Sibs with them both having disabilities and random ways to glean the future (Hazelâs blackouts, Nico talking to ghosts). Her blackouts would probably improve slightly over the course of the series but never fully disappear, and it ends up mostly a thing of she can tell when theyâre about to occur and prepare quickly for that or let someone know before she passes out.
- Get rid of Frankâs curse in SoN instead of waiting until The Tyrantâs Tomb. If weâre going to get rid of it eventually anyways, do it during the big scene of him freeing Thanatos. Let him have his cool big moment of embracing his destiny and that breaking the curse the first time he does it rather than him doing it twice but it only breaking the curse the second time? Also if the curse is broken earlier on then Frankâs entire arc gets to be about him realizing he has a life to live, since in SoN a major part of his character is that heâs not afraid of death because heâs used to the idea that his curse could kill him at any point. Heâs actually pretty reckless for the beginning of HoO because of that. If he realizes that he no longer is at risk of dying at any given moment because he thought about candles too hard, then that opens the opportunity of him having a whole existential crisis about what he actually wants to do with his life and him looking to the future for once.
Bonus opportunity for this - maybe Frank actually gets fire powers as a result of his curse breaking. Ares/Mars has an association with fire so it would fit for him as a son of Mars. Plus, then we could also have an even more overt dynamic of Frank and Leo acting as each otherâs parallels and foils and the two of them slowly growing more used to one another and actually becoming close friends. Lots of bonding over getting used to their fire powers and overcoming their mutual fears of fire and probably also solidarity in having lost their moms. Just - the boys are bonding! The boys are bonding. Fire boys hours.
- Related to Frankâs curse, give Hazel and Frank parallel narratives of them realizing they have a future ahead of them (Hazel re: getting a second chance at life and Frank re: realizing heâs no longer at risk of spontaneously combusting) and them grappling with trying to figure out what they want to do with their lives and how they want to live them after everything is said and done. And also being motivated for once to make it out the other side in one piece because theyâre determined to not waste the opportunity theyâve been given. The two of them coming to terms with realizing they have a future if they can make it through this (which is also a fun contrast to Leo and Nico actively almost sacrificing their own lives for others and having essentially an opposite character arc for the majority of the series).
- Especially while Frank (and Hazel) are having these arcs, going back to the idea of Leo getting stuck on Ogygia alone for a bit - very strongly contrasting the arcs of Frankâs mental health improving over the series while Leoâs is very steadily decreasing (until BoO at which point again the series ends with Leo getting help and beginning to improve/heal).
- Also further emphasizing Leo and Nicoâs parallels throughout HoO. Theyâre both autistic on top of the usual adhd/dyslexia and have issues with social interactions and care a lot about Hazel and are having a majorly bad time throughout the entire quest and are pretty depressed, etc etc etc. Again, parallel narratives at the end of BoO with them healing and things looking up for them - I think Iâve mentioned that like four times now you get the idea.
- Make Frank ADHD/dyslexic. There is literally no reason for him not to be and him being the outlier for being neurotypical feels weird and doesnât fit with the literal entire worldbuilding we have for demigods. If itâs part of âdemigod instinctsâ or whatever then Frank should be ADHD/dyslexic! And itâs not even a âthe Romans arenât ADHD/dyslexicâ because weâre explicitly told they are! They are specifically also ADHD and dyslexic! So why isnât Frank? Thereâs no reason. It annoys me.
- The Frank/Hazel/Leo âlove triangleâ can stay but itâs significantly more one-sided. Frank is mostly just intimidated by Leo for multiple reasons (mostly fire-related reasons) and Leo is mutually intimidated by Frank (because Frank is bigger than him and Leo is scared of everyone, really, but especially people who are bigger than him, because they could beat him up. Which is basically everyone). Hazel is not romantically interested in Leo and Leo is not romantically interested in her, though they are very close and do have a very confusing time trying to figure out the whole Sammy situation. Frank still misinterprets this as Hazel and Leo being romantic. Leo does not realize Frank is misinterpreting that as them being romantic and think Frank just hates him for the general reasons that Leo has found people usually hate him for no reason over. Leo wants nothing to do with that situation though. Eventually they all sort it out and become a very strong trio.
- Again as I briefly touched upon before, maybe give Reyna a protagonist role in MOA if not an outright POV. Probably an outright POV, with the main POVs of the book being her and Annabeth. Again, themes of historical associations between Athena and Bellona and playing with that, alongside making Reyna more of a prominent player earlier on in the series and letting us see more of the Romans. Use this opportunity to heavily parallel her with Annabeth (and also highlight her parallels with Percy, and Annabethâs parallels with Jason).
- Really I just want more Annabeth/Jason and Percy/Reyna parallels. Thereâs so much you can do there. The blond(e) gifted kid/smart aleck raised at camp and their best friend, the former newbie raised with a difficult home life. Percy and Reyna both have dogs (Mrs. OâLeary / Aurum and Argentium) and pegasi (Blackjack and Skippy). And a sibling they donât see often (Tyson / Hylla). You could have notes about Jason and Thalia and Annabeth and the dynamics within that and how those internally parallel each other. Or more about when Reyna encountered Percy and Annabeth while on Circeâs Island. Really anything more about Reynaâs time on Circeâs Island. Heck maybe you could parallel that to Percyâs difficult time in school, since Circeâs whole thing was that she was training the sorceresses living there, so thatâs kind of like a school environment. Paralleling first quests between Reyna and Jason with the events of the first series with Percy and Annabeth. Etc. etc. etc.
- We are taking BoO and just. Throwing it out the window, really. We donât have time to unpack all of that. Just start mostly from scratch, same extremely rough overarching elements are there.
- Also actually just. Rework the whole main prophecy too while weâre at it. It kinda sucks. Itâs just kind of a weak prophecy. âTo storm or fire the world will fallâ or whatever; we can do better. I donât have the brain power to write a better prophecy right now but just [see my recent post] for notes about what I think makes for a good prophecy in the series and why the main HoO one is kinda lame.
Footnotes:
Again, I will be following this up with part 2 electric boogaloo: Things I Would Change About TOA* (*That I can say without spoiling Deadangelos too much) at some point and I will link that when I make it. If you made it this far, gold star.
#pjo#percy jackson#riordanverse#hoo#heroes of olympus#leo valdez#frank zhang#jason grace#piper mclean#Hazel Levesque#reyna ramirez-arellano#annabeth chase#nico di angelo#toa spoilers#toa#trials of apollo#(< for that one bit about Frank)#and maybe also the bit with Shel I guess#tsats#the sun and the star#(< for that one bit about tartarus)#bunkernine#< mentioned briefly. good post.#analysis#meta#< i suppose#long post //#< not an exaggeration. my apologies for those of you who click on that read more#ask to tag#i dont even want to think about how to tag this further
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Doubts and Surprises
My first post and Zelink oneshot on Tumblr! Hope you enjoy! I loved writing this one :)
Ship: Zelink
Warnings? None!
Zelink master list <ââ- my other one shots! :)
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Zelda didn't know why she was here.Â
Her father and his advisor, Tarak, were having what seemed like a private conversation (might as well have been) with herself being the topic of discussion along with the utter doom that loomed above Hyrule. One that she was reminded of every second of every day since she was six years old. She really tried to ignore them and think of something to take her mind off of their words but she couldn't.
Her green eyes focused on a tapestry in the far corner. The triforce was elegantly sewn into its dark blue fabric. Why did everything have to be a constant reminder of her failures?
She shifted her feet from side to side, her dress restricting her movements. Her hair itched the back of her neck. Her shoes pinched her toes. And the soles of her feet hurt.
"I think it would be beneficial for the princess to continue her training," Tarak's voice sliced through her thoughts.
Red filled Zelda's vision and her fists tightened at her sides. Training always ended with nothing but disappointment and failure. She knew it, her father knew it, and the people of Hyrule knew it.Â
"I agree." King Rhoam's voice carried through the throne room.
Of course he would. Zelda couldn't bring herself to look at her father. The King of Hyrule. She knew he meant well but he did a really good job of being a king instead of her dad. With Zelda's mother's passing, she had no one to teach her the ways of Hylia's sacred power. But the amount of training and praying to the silent goddesses gave nothing in return. Nothing but a boiling resentment that fueled Zelda's inner turmoil.
Did he not have another plan? Nothing to go off of? Clearly the last 11 years of training with nothing to show for didn't faze her father.
"She is scheduled to visit the last two springs. They are our last hope," Rhoam mentioned.
"Either spring will likely spark some power." Tarak added.
Zelda bit her tongue, nothing good would come out of arguing with either of them. Neither would listen to her. It always ended in flames when she argued with her father, she didn't need the both of them coming at her.Â
Her fists tightened with every agonizing second. How long had it been? At least a half an hour of them referring to her in third person. Would they even notice if she left?Â
Tears threatened to sting her eyes, she would not cry. Not in front of them. She needed out. She neededâ Her eyes caught a familiar shade of blue, the champion's tunic. Her breathing stopped short all together when she met Link's ocean gaze. He was stationed by the wall with the master sword strapped to his backâsomething she used to despise with all her being but now it reminds her of him. He furrowed his brows slightly as he glanced between her and the King behind her.
That's right. He was here. She wasn't alone anymore. Oh why had she been so cruel to him before?Â
Maybe she could sneak out with him or come up with some excuse. She knew he would take her away from everything if she asked, which was unrealistic considering their circumstances and duty but Zelda still wished for it. It took everything in her not to run to him then and there.
He tilted his head slightly toward the doorâ-he must've seen the pleading in her eyes.
"Please be off with your training, Zelda." The golden haired princess never guessed she would be somewhat relieved for her father to say those words, though they still made her grit her teeth. Why did he ask for her in the first place? To listen to someone else drone on about how she should continue her sacred training? To have a second opinion? As if she didn't get enough scolding from him.
"Of course, Father." It took everything in her not to spit the words towards his neatly polished boots. She felt like a child all over again.
She spun on her heels and descended the stepsâfighting the urge to sprint down the stairsâto meet Link. Her safety.Â
"Please escort her, Link."Â
Link didn't need such an order, he was already holding out his hand for her to take. Her fingers wrapped around his own and he led her out.
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
Her other hand flew to her mouth as she heard the doors close behind her.Â
She didn't know where to go, but she didn't have to. Link tugged her down the hall without a word.
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Zelda's shoulders relaxed as she breathed in the fresh air of the castle gardens. The sun rose high in the sky with little clouds to cast away its warm rays. Her ears twitched as she heard bees zip between flowers and birds chirp in the trees. She had to admit, the castle crew had really outdone themselves with the garden grounds.
Her blonde-haired knight guided her towards one of the benches covered in peppered shade.
Her throat tightened, she wanted to cry for an entirely different reason. How can he be so thoughtful? I don't deserve it.Â
"Thank you, Link." She reluctantly released his hand and took a seat. Her heart sped in her chest, had she really held his hand the entire time?
He nodded once and gave her a slight smile.
"Do you really think the princess can do it?"
Zelda's shoulders tensed at the new voices. She turned her head to glance behind her. There were two guards strolling through the gardens, their armor clinking against their weapons.
"That's what the King says. If she listens to him we should be fine." The other replied to his comrade.
"I don't know. I've heard talk around. People have lost hope."
Their voices muffled as they rounded the corner towards the courtyard.
"I'll be back," Link said, his voice quiet. She flicked her gaze to him and her eyes widened.
"No! Link you don't have to talk to them. It's fine. They... have a right to doubt me."
"How can you say that?" he questioned.
"What?" Zelda didn't stop her mouth from falling open.
His eyebrows were knit together as he stared at her.
Her hylian ears drooped slightly and her voice cracked with despair. "They're right, Link. All I do is train and it's not enough. We're going to lose this war and it's going to be my fault." She shook her head as her tears fell. "How can you even look at me? A-and be so kind to me still?" She covered her eyes, she didn't want to see his reaction to her questions. "How can you not despise me? I can't even wield the power to aid you against him. I would doubt me too."
I do doubt me. She could almost hear her words out loud.
His boots tapped the cobblestone pathway and ended in front of her. She felt him grasp her hands and lower them away from her tearstained face.Â
"Prin... Zelda." The sound of his soft voice made more tears spring to her eyes. She didn't deserve his care or his kindness. She was a princess born to a throne of nothing. "They don't see how much passion you have for your people. For them." He sat down next to her. "You're amazing and they shouldn't talk about you any other way. You're doing everything you can. More than anyone... Please look at me."
She lifted her eyes to meet his blue ones and he continued. "You cannot disappoint or fail me... I'm... nothing but proud of you. I... I could never despise you."
Proud?Â
Her hands dropped to the bench as she stared at him with wide eyes. She couldn't remember the last time someone told her that. Maybe since before her mother passed. She also couldn't believe Link said so much in one minute.
Link's eyes went wide. He cast his gaze to the ground, blush flushing his cheeks. "A-am I out of line? I apologi-"Â
"No, no!" Zelda reached out to place a hand on Link's arm. He whipped his head toward her.
"Thank you. I didn't realize how much I needed to hear those words." She wiped her eyes furiously. "I-" She let out a breath. "Thank you," she repeated.
"Always," he replied quietly and gave her a smile.
Zelda smiled back and let her hand drop.
They sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the trees rustle in the light breeze.
"I don't know if this is the best time..." Link's voice never ceased to startle her, she was used to him being so silent. But she was happy about his newfound courage to speak. She thought it was silly but she hoped it was her that had something to do with it.
Her curiosity grew as he reached into one of his pouches, she leaned to the side to attempt to get a peek at what he had.
He pulled out a small screw and held it out for her to take. Zelda gasped, it was one of the guardian pieces! She carefully grasped it from his hands and stared at it in awe. Her father never let her near them, even less work with the ancient parts themselves!
"I found it at the training grounds for the guardians while walking back from patrol. No one was around to give it to so I... kept it..." His hand came up to scratch the back of his head. "You always talk about the guardians so... I thought..."
Zelda let a grin overtake her face as she stared at him.
His eyes caught hers and his hand froze, his face flushed with pink. She found it to be the cutest thing ever, the usual ever stoic knight blushing at his words.
"Link. This means everything, thank you."
"I- sure." He nodded and dropped his hand. She wanted to kiss him then and there.
"No really thank you. For everything you do. Even when you don't have to." For a silly moment, Zelda wished it wasn't because of his duty to her. But sometimes she thought any other appointed knight wouldn't do half the things Link does for her. Sure he protects her, that's a given. But even when it was his duty, she feltâhoped that deep down it was because of something more.
"I want to," he said simply with a shrug.
Zelda smiled again. Maybe everything would be okay. With the calamity, her training, the future. As long as Link was there she knew she could do it. With him by her side and hers by his.
#Zelink#princess zelda#link#hero of hyrule#zelda x link#link x zelda#loz#zelink loz#zelda#zelink botw#botw#breath of the wild
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