#leonie replies

[tooyoungtoreign]

so happy you're still around. i started loving your blogs around ten years ago. i remembered it today and it's still theeeeere ! thank you <3

That's wonderful to hear, thank you! Can't believe it's been over 10 years...

[fallintosanity]

For the ask game: any headcanons you have for Regis or any of the older characters in FFXV?

hi anon I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to answer! laptop trouble + ADHD + a work trip turned "ooh, I do have headcanons but it's late so I'll answer tomorrow" to "oh shit it's been like three weeks" 😅

anyway! headcanons for Regis or any of the older FFXV characters!

It's mostly minor stuff, mannerisms and such that get mentioned in passing in a few of my fics. Like that when Regis is lost in thought, he summons a little flame in his hand like a fidget. Or that Cor used to have a thick country drawl, and that he enjoys poking around in ruins / caves / dangerous places just to see what kinds of nasties jump out for him to fight. Clarus is, of course, the rough-and-tumble-play dad, throwing his kids (safely) all over the place from the moment they can crawl, flipping them upside-down to "walk" on the ceiling, letting them stand on his shoulders, stuff like that. Aside from how much fun it is, that kind of play teaches body awareness/proprioception, balance, safe falling - all critical skills for a family of bodyguards.

Another one about Regis is that he actively suppresses his emotions / expressions of emotion to maintain the facade of a stoic, calm, unflappable king. I wove that one through my FTH fic Words Cut Like Knives - while the visible focus is on Noctis's emotions and the lesson he must learn about controlling them, I tried to put a subtle emphasis on how often Regis hides his own emotions and reactions. I think he'd be a lot more emotive if he wasn't royalty - cheerful, maybe even a little goofy. But he's the king, and the crown does not have emotions.

[kiose]

Leolysi enthusiasts, here's a thing for y'all It's Leonie's B-Day so... yay! An excuse to post this Leolysi I had sitting finished on my folders 💪💪💪 I love their Warrior's outfits but I hate Leonie's hair, so it's a tradeoff, their color pallettes compliment each other so well~

[randomnameless]

how would have Rhea raised Billy if Jeralt failed to take them from the monastery? Aside from actually giving a shit about them and not letting them starve on a semi regular basis I mean

See their enlightened one outfit?

They would have gotten tacky outfits in the same style from age 3 onwards, all "made" by the Archbishop herself.

More seriously, I think the plot would change?

Maybe Seteth wouldn't have been "summoned" at the Monastery, if Billy had been there, or he would and would have acted as Billy's caretaker ?

If Billy was raised by Rhea since day 5, I'm pretty sure they would have told her about the gremlin in their head, and that plot would have been solved way earlier, but as to what happens with Supreme Leader's war... idk.

I personally see Billy, in this verse, as someone raised like Sitri, maybe being a monk/random ward in the Monastery, but Billy likes to help people (and smiles at least in the jp!version!) so maybe they would have became some sort of kickass cleric, or a member of the knights of Seiros (Rhea'd disagree at first, she doesn't want them to be hurt and would have prefered if they became a fisherman or something that would keep them away from the battlefield, but Billy makes their own decisions, and wishes to protect the monastery and the people they cares about, maybe being triggered by another assassination attempt targetted at Rhea, maybe Christophe's or someone's else).

Billy'd be good friends with knighs and members of the CoS, maybe take Cyril under their wing (as much as they can) and have wednesday evening sessions of sitting with their "like" family eating Zanado fruits, or even fishing. When they want to become a knight or know how to use weapons "to protect", they could spare with Seteth'n'Rhea and end the "training" sessions with some of Rhea's cookies and Zanado fruit juice.

If Billy's still a teacher in this verse - well, I don't think the entire "crust + church BaD" spiel affects them, hell, they might be a bit more pissed at this entire nonsense and voice their annoyance, why are those nobles blaming the church for their own failings in ruling their lands?

(that's where Seteth has to remind them about this thing called "tongue in check")

Maybe they can decide to travel through Fodlan to make up for the regional branches' failings (but only after Rhea got from the gremlin the promise that Gremlin will keep Billy safe!) - when Supreme Leader comes crashing down with her army?

If Rhea survives, Billy hangs out in Faerghus, but if Rhea is caught, Billy leads a resistance force (like SS) - granted, in this AU, Sothis is around and less of a gremlin that in her canon appearances, so Rhea's freed from her Enbarr jail way earlier than in the game, the Agarthans are toasted and everything's well that ends well.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Drawing Down the Moon (Alastor x Ancient Roman!Witch!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any? Please correct me if I am wrong. The subject matter is a little niche.

Description: Alastor reencounters an old friend.

Word Count: 2,871

Master Lists:

All Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Alastor Master List 

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

A/N i’ve been reading about roman magic laws for school okay?? don’t judge me. Maybe one of the nichest things I've ever written (except that one Akutagawa x Reader fic I have on my Wattpad where I made them talk to one another in ancient Greek and Latin (its called Leo, Leonis and tbh, that fic slaps if I do say so myself)). Won't be surprised if no one reads or likes this one but I don't care. This will be a monster of a fic, she's been lurking in the recesses of my mind for a hot second now.

"Why would she lie for so long? Does she think I wouldn't accept her?" Charlie was animatedly talking at Alastor as they walked the streets of Hell, "What about me, ME, says un understanding... misunderstanding?... Disunder- Wait, w-where are we?"

Alastor sprung to life as Charlie finally asked a question he had an answer to. Theatrically, he stepped into her curious line of sight, his arms held wide.

"Cannibal Town!" respectfully, Alastor turned and took Charlie's arm in his own, "There's a friend of mine I think you should meet."

"In Cannibal Town?" Charlie doubtfully asked as Alastor began to lead her towards a crowded shop entrance, "But it's... it's... surprisingly nice here."

"Isn't it, though?" Alastor proudly replied, "And it is all thanks to a very special someone."

Alastor opened the stained glass doors to the emporium, allowing Charlie to walk through them before he followed in her wake. The store was full, packed to the brim with cannibals of all sorts, all of whom seemed to part respectfully in the face of Alastor, allowing him to approach the front counter with Charlie trailing after him.

"Ah, Johnny my good fellow." Alastor hummed to the cashier, leaning casually on the counter.

The demon seated behind the table looked up with a wide smile.

"Mister Alastor, it has been quite a while since we've seen your face around these parts."

Charlie watched the interaction in mild surprise. It wasn't often she had the pleasure of meeting someone Alastor knew who didn't hate him or want him dead. Curiosity clouded her mind as Alastor waved the man off.

"I don't mean to be rude but, we're in a bit of a rush." Alastor said, politeness pooling delicately around his words, "Rosie wouldn't happen to be in, would she?"

"Ah, well, you see, Mister Alastor..." the demon seemed slightly uncomfortable, scratching at his ear slightly, "She's a tad... preoccupied at the moment?"

"A guest?" Alastor asked.

"A guest." Johnny reluctantly confirmed.

"Well, no matter. Is she in the back?"

"Yes," Johnny got to his feet, leaning forward as Alastor linked arms with Charlie once again, leading her behind the counter, "but I really don't think it's a good idea to... and they're gone."

"Wasn't that rude?" Charlie asked as Alastor pulled her behind the curtain that separated the main store from the backrooms and Rosie's apartment, "Oh no, is that guy going to get in trouble? Because of us?"

"Everything will be just fine my dear, don't you worry." Alastor patted her hand reassuringly as they came to stop before a door.

Letting Charlie's arm fall free, he straightened his jacket just the slightest bit before knocking on the door. There was a moment of silent anticipation before a voice from the other side called:

"Who is it?!"

"Alastor, Rosie." Alastor replied calmly.

There was a rustling of fabric, a handful of hasty footsteps, and the door swung open to reveal a woman. She was tall and beautiful in her long dress and her wide brimmed hat.

"Oh my stars!" she exclaimed with a bright smile, "Do my eyes deceive me? Alastor? Alastor! Where have you been? These halls really lost some of their sparkle without your lively presence and-"

The woman, Rosie, trailed off as she caught sight of Charlie standing beside her dear friend.

"Oh, who's this you brought with you? Come now, Alastor, she's much too young for you. Oh, I'm just kidding. But where are your manners, Mister? Introduce us, why don't you?"

"Ah, yes, Charlie, this is Rosie: the most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord this side of the pentagram."

At his words, Rosie smiled, giving a perfect curtsy. It was as her form lowered that Charlie caught sight of the interior of the room, and the strange seated figure it housed. Alastor seemed not to have noticed and as Rosie straightened herself up again, she laughed slightly.

"Oh, always such a charmer."

"And Rosie," Alastor continued, "it is my pleasure to introduce you to Princess Charlie Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer and heir to the throne of Hell."

Charlie smiled weakly, waving slightly at the imposing and nearly off-puttingly cheerful woman.

"How do you do?" she asked awkwardly, "I am very sorry for interrupting your meeting, I tried to get Alastor to wait but..."

"Oh, yes!" Rosie suddenly exclaimed, almost as if she had forgotten about her previous guest in all the excitement, "Come on in you two, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Charlie was about to protest when Rosie grabbed her by the arm, dragging her into the room. Alastor followed, turning his back as he shut the door behind them. Charlie's mouth fell open slightly as her eyes finally saw the truth of Rosie's guest.

She was tall, probably tall enough to rival Alastor or Rosie herself. Skin tinged slightly blue, she seemed to be covered in a faint gold dust that clung to her draped, toga-like dress and skin in equal amount. Heaps of gold jewelry hung on every inch of her as well, wrapping her wrists, her neck, her ankles, her fingers, even braided into her hair. Resting atop her head was a crown of gold with a half moon on it, her feet were bare. With wide, white eyes that nearly seemed unseeing, the woman watched Charlie carefully.

"Can I offer you something to eat?" Rosie was asking, but Charlie could barley hear her, unable to break eye contact with the woman, "I'm sure I have a leg around here or something..."

"I am afraid were not here for food." Alastor thankfully stepped in, turning to Rosie with closed eyes and a wide smile, "We happen to be in need of some help."

"Alastor?" the woman spoke and her voice resounded in itself, loud yet soft at the same time, singular and yet somehow plural.

"Well, aren't you fresh."

That was the first thing she had ever said to him. Alastor had been wandering Hell, minding his own business when he had heard that voice say those words and felt a fire ignited in him. Slowly, he had turned around to see a pair of towering demons. Overlords, he realized, and big ones at that. Alastor's smile sharpened at its edges as he began to formulate a plan.

Charlie turned at last, as if whatever spell the stranger had cast on her had broken at the sound of her voice, to look at Alastor in mild confusion. She heard his breath hitch in his throat. The man in question was frozen, his ears twitching wildly, his eyes now wide open.

"Is that you?" the demon asked again.

Alastor somehow seemed to reassemble himself before their very eyes. Slowly, he turned to the room's only occupied chair.

"Who are you?"

Alastor feigned innocence, looking up at the titan herself as she took a step forward. In an instant, she stood at his height, looking him dead in the eyes.

"An odd one too." she hummed thoughtfully, white eyes tracking the stars, reading his future it almost seemed, "Most people go with what before who."

Alastor was unsure how to respond to that one. The titan chuckled, a grin flashing across her face. It was unexpected, disconcerting. Alastor hadn't thought her face capable of any expression save solemn disinterest. She turned her head slightly to the side, looking back over her shoulder to her companion.

"Zestial, cara mea?"

The spidery demon took a step forward, meeting her eyes.

"Yes?"

"Don't you have something you need to be getting to?"

Alastor may have been dumbstruck, but he wasn't stupid. He heard the order as clearly as if she had not bothered with the formalities of disguising it. It shocked Alastor to his core. This might be his first time encountering Zestial but, he had heard the demon's name before. Most frequently, it had been spat at him by his victims who claimed that one of Hell's oldest and most respected demons would come for him. So who was this other overlord, the titan? Sure, he'd heard of her before but enough that such blatant disrespect towards Hell's most respected made sense? No. Not at all, in fact.

Zestial paused a moment before bowing his head slightly.

"You're quite right." he hummed, "I will be seeing you presently I expect?"

"Perchance." the titan lazily replied, her gaze having long since switched back to Alastor, set on analyzing his features, "I'll let you know."

With another polite bow, Zestial had turned and began walking in the opposite direction. The titan held an arm out for Alastor. He looked at it curiously before meeting the demon's eye's again. She laughed.

"So suspicious. I thought you we're the one killing overlords, not me."

His eyes went wide.

"How do you..." he cleared his throat, "how did you know?"

It was a stupid question and he knew it. There hadn't been any secret keeping, not really. Sure, he never outright said he was the Radio Demon who broadcasted screams but he supposed there couldn't be many Radio Demon's out there really. It didn't matter that he had only been going after overlords for a month or so now, she was one. Of course she would know.

"Let's go for a walk, shall we?"

All it took was one look. Suddenly, he was new again, spat fresh out of life on Earth and in to Hell's gaping maw. One look at her, and he dissolved at the edges, forming and reforming his own ability to speak and comprehend the world around him.

"It is." the woman hummed, a wide smile breaking across her face, revealing the blackness of her teeth, her mouth.

Alastor soon formed a bit of a soft spot for the inhuman overlord. It was that first meeting, that first walk. He had asked, hunting for information to wield against her, about her life on Earth and in Hell. It was her fault really, for answering. That's what had him stuck.

Y/n had laid her life out for him like a freshly pressed table cloth. She had been raised on the streets of ancient Rome and executed as a witch. She was perhaps the oldest demon remaining in Hell, the exterminations having eventually wiped out even the strongest members of her times. Just as Alastor had been reborn as a deer due to his death, so too was she reborn as what they had accused her of. Every ritual, every spell, prophecy itself all worked for her. It was then Alastor understood the interaction he had witnessed between Zestial and Y/n, then he understood the respect.

He found himself drawn to her more and more and, somehow, he always seemed to be able to find her when he went searching. He assumed it was some strange magical nonsense she controlled. Alastor didn't question it.

Y/n showed him Hell in a way he had never seen it before. She taught him where to gather herbs and how to use them, how to bend the earth to his will, how to spin iunges and call down the storms, the rain, the moon. Alastor devoured, fed by her hand.

It was odd, Charlie had never seen a demon like her before. The white eyes, the teeth black with what seemed to be darkness, the gold. All of it was off putting yet somehow, captivating. Alastor seemed to be acting weird, his eyes flitting wildly across the woman, taking in her every detail. Charlie wasn't sure what to do about that.

In some sense, Alastor seemed to be scared. In another, he was in an overjoyed state of disbelief. Charlie wasn't sure which was more disconcerting, or how to respond to either and so, she simply watched.

"I have a question, mea ocella."

Y/n announced one day and Alastor turned from where he sat spinning stories into his microphone at her feet. That was what she had called him, her little eye. She told him it was a term of endearment. Alastor had no reason to doubt. The red grass swayed slightly in the breeze as he looked up at her, immediately bringing a halt to his broadcast.

"What is it?"

"You've been so set on ending all us overlords for so long now," she hummed, "wouldn't you like to do something different?"

"Something like what?"

"See from the other side of the glass."

Her white eyes glowed blue, the gold on her skin shining out into the world around like stars. Alastor sighed.

"You're prophesying again."

She nodded in agreement. Y/n had never seen the point in lying, she had never known its use. Not since before she could remember, back in the times she lived. They were so distant now, so immaterial and unimportant she rarely payed those memories much mind.

"So, what is it you see me doing?"

"Simple riddle or play on words?"

The two types of prophesy, the two options. Alastor put a finger to his chin, humming in thought.

"Simple riddle. Please, not in dactylic hexameter if you would, decoding that always gives me a headache."

"But that has been the meter of prophecy since Justice herself sat on the Delphic throne, mea ocella." Y/n retorted in surprise, meeting Alastor's eyes.

"Yeah, well."

Y/n laughed lightly, looking back out blankly toward the future.

"As you wish, ocella. Just this once. My gift to you."

Alastor hummed his non-comital thanks, turning his gaze back out the the skyline of the city as well.

"One will be two, two will be four, when that number comes be ready for more. Seven years past under grim sudden stress, four becomes ten, I'll tell you what happens next. Help one bright star to the top, not too far, and you will be free from the one not the three."

"Rhymes? Really?"

Y/n looked down at him, the glow fading from her as their eyes met and the future vanished from the scope of her vision.

"You asked for no hexameter, I still get to have fun."

"Yeah, yeah."

The pair fell into a comfortable silence. Alastor ran the words of her fortune in his head, trying to gain any semblance of reason from them.

"They don't sound very... avoidable."

"That's because it's not one of the ones you can change."

"Oh."

Y/n pulled herself to her feet suddenly, her chiton swirling around her. Alastor watched in awe as her image flickered in the air for a moment between the image of herself just a head shorter than him, the one who loomed around nine feet tall, and some three headed monster at what must've been five stories. Leaning, she held a hand out for him to grasp. It took Alastor a moment to realize, shaking his head slightly as he at last accepted Y/n's help and got to his feet.

"Where are we going?"

"I've decided you are going to be an overlord, mea ocella."

"Why?"

"I think it might help you down the line."

It had been years since Alastor had seen her. Long before he had taken his so called seven year sabbatical, Y/n had vanished. Alastor knew she wasn't dead, he would have been able to tell if she was dead. Surly the world would have shifted in some new and strange way to lose the goddess of the crossroads, the titan, Hekate made flesh and blood. Nothing like that had happened and so he knew she was alive, just not where or how.

Y/n's prophecies were always accurate. Standing here before her now, Alastor recalled her words from all those decades before.

One will be two, two will be four. When that number comes, be ready for more.

One had been just him. Two? When he had died and met his shadow. Alastor realized now that three had been Y/n herself and that the fourth important person who had come into his afterlife was the very person who owned his soul.

Seven years past under grim sudden stress, four becomes ten, I'll tell you what happens next.

Seven years he'd been gone, indeed under an unexpected and disastrous situation. When, after seven long years, he had returned to Hell, he had gone to the hotel. It was at the Hazbin Hotel that he not only met Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, and Sir Pentious but that they became vital parts of his life along with Husk and Nifty who before then had mostly existed on the periphery. Those six, plus the original four, made ten.

Help one bright star to the top, not too far, and you will be free from the one not the three.

All along, all those years ago, she had known. Alastor had always respected Y/n, always harbored a soft and disconcerting love for the witch. Never before now had either felt so overwhelming. Alastor took a trembling step forward from his place at Charlie's side. The world closed in, she was the only thing he could see.

Y/n smiled as he sunk to his knee before her, his head bowed.

"Mea ocella." she happily hummed, lifting his head up gently with the tips of her bluish grey fingers.

"Y/n."

----

This fic will probably have a part two.

TAGS:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @kahlan170 @wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007 @juskonutoh @simpingsohard @sethianaa @gabile18 @slytherin4ever @skyeliteratures @zombiesnips-blog

[marauders-brain-rot]

Wrote this for the fic I'm writing but I literally have no clue when it's going to happen, thought it was perfect to post for today though, might write another one exclusively for Tumblr as a microfic rather than an excerpt but we shall see, I'm determined to be able to update my ao3 fic today:

Regulus was laying with his head in James’s lap and James was running his fingers soothingly across the other boy’s scalp, humming absentmindedly as he thought. Regulus’s eyes had fluttered shut long ago but James knew he wasn’t sleeping because every now and then he would adjust himself or his eyelids would flutter briefly before settling again. James liked that things were easy with Regulus, he didn’t have to pretend around him, he could be the imperfect version of James Potter and Regulus would still choose him anyways. 

“I was doing some research last night,” James said absentmindedly after a while, fingers still running soothing tracks through Regulus’s hair. 

“I knew this was too good to be true, tell me Jamie, how long before I go into the light?” Regulus popped one eye open and the mischievous smirk that spread across his face sent James’s stomach into flips. 

“Hush now, you, or I won’t tell you what I found.” James replied with a light flick to the tip of Regulus’s nose, which only caused him to scrunch it so adorably that James couldn’t resist planting a delicate kiss to the space between his brows. 

“Okay, okay, what did you find?” The smile on Regulus’s lips made James want to kiss him until they both forgot what they’d been talking about. 

“Did you know that Regulus is the brightest star in the Leo constellation?” James started as he twisted strands of Regulus’s hair between his fingers. 

“Believe it or not Potter, Sirius and I were taught all about our stars growing up.” He answered with one of his famous dramatic eye rolls that rivalled Sirius’s.

“That isn’t the point I’m trying to make. The Leo constellation is the lion constellation, the actual name for Regulus is Alpha Leonis which means ‘heart of the lion’. Reg, we were written in the stars, you were meant to be in my heart.” James was beaming with pride at his discovery but Regulus just groaned. 

“James Fleamont Potter, that is absolutely the cheesiest thing I have ever heard.” Regulus was shaking his head but the smile on his face and the red in his cheeks told James that he didn’t really care all that much. 

“You love it,” James responded, hovering his face above Regulus’s. Regulus’s eyes locked with James’s, allowing him to see every bit of emotion that he usually kept locked deep inside. 

“No, I love you.” The intensity in his eyes was unlike anything James had ever seen before and it took his breath away. Before he’d known him, he’d always thought that Regulus had gotten cold, grey eyes where Sirius’s had a more lively tinge of blue. It wasn’t until Regulus had really started letting James in that he realised that every time he’d looked at Regulus and seen cold, grey, lifeless eyes, he had been staring directly into carefully crafted occlumency walls. In reality, Regulus’s eyes were the most stunning grey-blue that reminded James so much of the ocean when they were filled with emotion.

“I love you too, Reg.” James watched as his reply caused the widest smile he’d ever seen spread across Regulus’s face before the emotions of the moment overtook him and he kissed him as passionately as he could given their awkward angle. ‘This is my happy place,’ James thought, ‘this is where I belong.’

[caparrucia]

What if in The Sun Is Out, Cor had discovered Drautos was traitor before Nyx?

It is a precise strike.

Ironically enough, very much not deadly. Nyx catches Cor's gaze with his own, a fraction of a fraction of a second, before the sword slides in, cleanly. He stops breathing. He stops existing. The hand on the nape of his neck threatens to twist but a single gunshot echoes and Nyx feels the splatter into the back of his head, wet and solid and... final.

Cor pulls out the sword, but only one of the bodies bleeds.

Nyx gasps for breath as he stumbles into his arms and thinks that, all things considered, he's allowed to think of the Immortal on a first name basis.

"Son of a bitch," Lyra says, and Nyx is suddenly lying on his back, "you didn't even collapse the lung."

"Lyra," Cor says, deadpan, his hand clutching the flap of skin closed, where his sword slid between Nyx's ribs and somehow didn't pop his heart like an overripe grape.

The elixir burns.

Magical healing is just forced healing: accelerating the process too fast for death to catch up. Nyx feels every millimeter of that slice in intimate detail.

Cor snorts.

Lyra cackles like an off-key crow.

Nyx realizes he's been babbling the whole time, up to and including calling the Immortal pretty to his face.

"Twice!" Lyra insists, green eyes glinting with mischief. "Imagine if you had killed him, Cor?"

Cor Leonis stares down his nose at him, solemn and stone-faced but something in his eyes glints in a way that makes Nyx divine the embarrassment.

"Buy me a beer, when we get home," Nyx says, "then we'll be square."

"Sure," Cor replies, somewhere between bewildered and amused. "Why not?"

Nyx promptly passes out on the spot.

It takes them seven months to make it back to Insomnia, and only four of those are on account of the literal baby Lyra stole from somewhere. Cor puts sugar into the stew. Nyx resolves to live, if only because someone must be the parent, and clearly neither of his companions are fit for the title.

The scar in his chest - and his back, cut cleanly, skewered like a dimwitted fish in a barrel - aches the closer they get to Insomnia.

He wonders what the future will bring.

[heartsbreaking-migrated]

"so that's what this is about?" sofia laughed, she knew everyone adored leonie. having a dog around had been a great way to make friends in a new country. she didn't mind at all that her friends were always willing to come over or go somewhere with her when they had an opportunity to see leonie as well. "we'll keep that in mind." it was always good to know which friends were alright with her bringing leonie over and which weren't. she was a very well trianed dog in sofia's opinion, but people were still allowed to not want a dog in their house or car. "i don't know if you can get inline ahead of him unless he's busy or something."

❛ you can come over any time. it’s not a problem. ❜ (from sofia) // platonic sentence starters // @heartsbreaking

A small smile starts to tug at his lips, arms crossing as he starts to nod. "Sehr nett." He says, blue eyes looking over at her. "I can say the same. I mean we all are in this together, right?" He looks over at the dog by her side. "And I mean I can't say no when I can hang out with her too." His grin grows just a bit, after all who didn't love dogs? "She also can come over too. And if you need someone to watch her, aside from Andrei of course. How do I get in line ahead of him?"

[themultifandomgal]

From 2010- The Second Half Of Tour

2013

Part 34

Trigger warning- talks about vomiting and feeling sick. I will put a 🚨 when it starts and a ✔️when it’s over and safe to read again.

23rd September- Adelaide

“Thank you to every single one of you. We have been so excited to come back here to Australia” Louis attempts to say Australia in an Australian accent, but it truly doesn’t go well

“Take me home tour is back and it’s kicked off in Adelaide” Niall says

“YN how do you feel about being back here” Harry says in an Aussie accent which doesn’t sound to bad

“I’m just glad Louis isn’t doing an accent anymore” I laugh

“Oi!” Louis nudges me

“Are you having a good day?” Harry asks the audience who of course all scream

“YN you arrive here in Australia before us, any reason why?” Louis asks wiggling his eyebrows “is there a certain Aussie you’ve been linked with?”

“Shut up” I roll my eyes laughing “the next song we’re going to sing for you is What Make You Beautifu”. The music starts playing and Liam starts singing

“You're insecure, don't know what for. You're turning heads when you walk through the door. Don't need makeup to cover up. Being the way that you are is enough” during this Niall and Harry are dancing about and showing off their stomachs to one another which just makes me laugh so much I miss my cue so I end up having to point my mic to the audience so they can sing my part for me.

2nd October- Melbourne

Tonight Liam and his parents, Craig and Leonie, have come to see me perform making me feel super nervous for this show. I look up from my phone to see Harry who’s staring at me

“You ok H?”

“Huh? What? Yeah m’fine”

“You sure because you’ve been staring at me for the last 5 minute”

“Just thinking”

“About?” I press on generally curious to know what going on in the head of the curly brown haired boy

“How Kendal and I will ‘split up April next year then I’ll be on to the next publicity stunt”

“This is ridiculous H. You shouldn’t have to jump from one woman to another”

“I’m the heartthrob of the group, the womaniser. I have to”

“No you don’t” there’s a knock on the door and in walks Liam

“Everything ok in here”

“Yeah”

“No” Harry and I say at the same time “actually Liam can you come back in a bit? Harry and I were just talking about something”

“No it’s ok I think our conversation was over anyway” Harry gets up and leaves brushing past Liam

“Harry wait”

“Woah woah ok whats going on with you and Harry?”

“What? Nothing we were just talking about something”

“Do you have feelings for him?” Liam suddenly asks

“What? No” yes, I think I do, but I can’t do anything about them

“I trust you you” Liam says pulling me into him and hugging me “i just wanted to wish you luck”

“Thank you” I reply, but my mind isn’t on Liam, it’s on Harry.

🚨16th October- Melbourne

I scrunch my nose up trying not to gag at Harry vomiting into a bucket

“That’s it let it out” Niall says patting Harry’s back

“You can’t go on stage tonight” I say disgusted laced in my voice

“No I’m fine” Harry groans

“I don’t get it you only had a headache earlier” Zayn says handing Harry a bottle of water

“H your ill you need to rest” I try to argue

“No I need to join you on stage” Harry hands the bucket over to Paul who takes it from him also looking like he’s about to vomit. Harry opens up the bottle of water and takes a sip “I’ll be fine”

“Just don’t throw up on stage” Zayn says giving Harry a look

“I won’t” Harry replies but I’m not convinced that he’s not going to throw up again, especially since it’s always really warm on stage because of the lights and also running around.

3 times Harry had to go off stage to throw up! 3 times! And each time I asked him to just go and rest in his changing room and his response was “im fine” he isn’t fine he’s ill. I just hope whatever he has isn’t contagious.

✔️ 23rd October- Sydney

“YN?” Harry says walking into my dressing room with a cheek grin on his face

“What do you want?” I reply squinting my eyes at him

“My hairs getting long”

“Ok and?”

“Can I borrow your head band tonight?”

“Why don’t I just cut it for you?” I ask smirking

“Hell no!” he shouts making me pout “please can I just borrow your headband?”

“Fine” I roll my eyes and throw my purple head band at him “it’s probably got foundation on though”

“Thank you your the best”

“I know” I give his a smile and shrug before he leaves my room and heads back to his. I turn to look at Charlotte who’s smiling at me

“What?” I ask now frowning at her

“Oh nothing”

3rd November- Chiba

“Hello!” Harry says into his mic just after we finish up our second song of the night. I grab my water bottle and take a sip “tonight is our final night of the Take Me Home Tour” we all pull sad faces. It truly is sad at how quickly this tour has gone, but at the same time I’m ready for a break… we’ll as much of a break as we get since we will be releasing our next album in 22 days! Then it will back to your again next April

“But we want to make it special and have some fun” Niall says “for the last time on this tour Liam Payne!”

“Hello everyone. Thank you so much for coming to see us. Right this is More Than This” I start of the song

“I’m broken, do you hear me? I’m blinded ‘cause you are everything I see. I’m dancing alone. I’m praying that your heart will just turn around” this song will always be different for me to sing and I’m thankful that I have my boys for support.

And just like that tour is over. Liam phones me just as we come off stage

“Hey, can I call you back in a bit?” I ask wiping them tears from my face while walking next to Niall towards our dressing rooms

“I just wanted to know how it went tonight” Liam says sounding almost irritated

“Erm yeah it was good, just a bit emotional that it’s over”

“Well at least we can spend more time together now”

“Yeah. My flight back to England is tomorrow”

“Will you be going back with Harry and Louis?”

“Well yeah I live with them” I frown feeling confused. Why wouldn’t I go back with them?

“About that…”

“Liam I’ve got to go, I need to get changed and I want to chat with the boys for a bit. I’ll speak to you later” but that night I don’t. Instead I get back to my hotel room and just crash because I’m so exhausted, physically and emotionally.

*Photo edit by harianastyless over on Instagram. All credits go to them

[ohtobeleah]

omg can we talk about Bobby Bear for a minute bc that entire portion of the finale had me sobbing 😭

Like seeing as how Dot’s only 3 and blocks out most of the final ToE events as she gets older, I doubt that she really remembers Bob or the significance of Bobby Bear. Of course she’ll still have him as a teenager, but I’m just thinking of what it’s like after the events of “Dot visits Jaidyn in jail” where she learns that someone literally died to save her. I’m also thinking of how she might ask her parents to take her to visit Bob’s grave—his final resting place for the last decade at that point 🧸

ToE

{ Listen, I’m a firm believer in the ideology that kids see ghosts. My mum used to tell me that when I was a kid I’d sit on the pool step talking to myself for ages and one time when she was hanging out the washing she heard me talking and asked who I was talking to and I said Nana Leonie. Who’s my dads mum who died when he was 12 in a car accident. They had never told be about her because I was only like four/five at the time. }

And I think that’s what happens to little Dot. She’s sitting on her swing set just talking to herself. She’s got Bobby Bear sitting on the grass beside her. Minding her own business.

“Who you talkin to over there princess?” Bradley’s asking as he hangs out some of the washing that needed to be done in an emergency batch. Flightsuits and stuff.

“Bobby—“

“Bobby Bear got something to say does he?” And Dot has Bradley frozen in a flashback that he can’t get out of when she replies to him.

“He says mama has a baby on board.” And all Bradley can hear in his mind is Jake’s infectious laugh coming through the comms from when they all came back together for the uranium mission, where Jake had assumed Bob stood for baby on board.

“Did Bobby Bear say that?” He’s got a little layer of sweat across his forehead as he asks. There’s no way, right?

“No, Bob did.” Dots correcting her soon to be legal guardian. In a few short months that’s what Bradley would be. “He says hi Tooster.” And it’s just the most shocking moment for Rooster. Because he’s just standing there at the line hanging washing watching Dot talk to herself and is all of a sudden in the middle of an existential crisis about the possibility of ghosts being a legitimate thing.

“Hey Dotty.” Bradley knows it’s probably stupid to ask but if there was a chance, even just the slightest chance, he wanted Bob to know. “Can you tell Bob I’m sorry?” And Bradley watches as Dot converses with herself like she’s having a full on in-depth discussion with someone standing right next to her.

“He said he knows.” That’s when Bradley is scooping little miss Dot up and collecting Bobby Bear and barreling into the house. He’s looking for you in a panic. Anxiety attack approaching.

“Fe?” Bradley calls when you aren’t in the living room. Dots hanging upside down as Bradley holds her like a surfboard. She’s a giggling mess. “Honey you around?”

“What’s wrong?” You’re racing down the hall because the way Bradley sounded made you believe the house was on fire. “Roo—?” He looked pale, like he’d just seen a ghost. Or heard from one that was.

“You need to take a pregnancy test and Dot sees ghosts.”

“Did you hit your head on something?” It’s a genuine question to a very puzzling statement. “Bradley, hon, what happened why do you look ill?” It’s the palm against his forehead that calms Rooster down, your touch always brought him solace. He placed little Odette down who takes her Bobby Bear and makes her way into her room. She had better things to be doing than watching her dad have a full blown anxiety attack. “What happened?”

“Do you ever talk to her about Bob?” It’s a blunt question Bradley is sure he already knows the answer to. You don’t talk about Bob to anyone let alone Odette. But everyone had agreed to not bring Bob up around your little girl, incase it triggered an episode. She’d begun to block it out, her therapist had told you it was normal in childhood trauma. It was a coping mechanism.

“Not directly no.” You frowned curiously. “Why?”

“She said that Bob said that you have a baby on board and then I asked her to tell Bob I was sorry and she said he already knows!” Bradley knew he sounded crazy by the look on your face you gave him in reaction to his explanation. “I ain’t crazy baby don’t look at me like that.”

“Bradley, I love you—but there’s no such thing a ghosts.” You reply a little sharper than normal. Bradley knows why, the topic of Bob never left you feeling good. It was still a fresh wound. “I’ll take a pregnancy test in a few days if I’m late—“ You leave it at that. Rooster hangs around the threshold of Dots room just watching her play. He felt like he was going crazy.

But what made it even worse was when that pregnancy test came back positive.

“Holy shit you do have a baby on board—“ The whole experience kind of confirms that there’s some sort of life after death for Bradley, which gives him a lot of closer, brings him a lot of peace. You don’t buy into it. And Odette doesn’t seem to really stick with the whole kids see ghosts thing either because as she grows up, her imaginary friend Bob doesn’t seem to appear as much anymore. She just grows out of it much like you thought she would. Bobby Bear is just another one of her many toys and suddenly—she’s being told exactly what happened that night on Uncle Jakes front porch after going to see that monster she’d been calling her dad for months on end.

“Will you take me to see him?” Dot had spent the majority of the day with you in bed, talking about the things that you’d endured, talking about Bob and about how Bradley was just always there for the two of you. “Bob?” Odette had a new found appreciation for Bradley, her dad.

“Sure baby, you know—before Riley was born you kinda had Rooster in a frenzy thinking ghosts were real and that Bob wasn’t just some imaginary friend of yours.” You could remember it like it was yesterday, how pale and scared out of his fucking kind Bradley had really been that day. He was convinced Bob was about to have him staring in something right out of the conjuring.

“How?” Dots asking, she just wanted to keep the conversation going. She wanted to know everything, no detail left out or stone unturned. If she couldn’t get it from you she now knew who to go to. Uncle Jake.

“You used to say a lot of weird things, just things only Bob would know— Or you somehow knew things we’d never told you about.”

“You don’t believe in ghost mum?” You shook your head with a firm No and a tight smile.

“I don’t believe that a man who was ground in mathematics and science and probability theory would ever be a ghost, no.” You just didn’t believe it was in Bobs inherit nature.

So the next day, you and Bradley took Odette up to Bobs grave. She’d never been there before. You’d never taken her purely to keep the memories at bay for her. All you ever did say in and day out as a mother was protect your kids.

“How’s it hangin’ Floyd?” Bradley clapped as he picked up some of the dead flowers Natasha had last left. He knew it was her because there was a beer bottle sitting next to the bouquet. The beer Bob never got to give Rhett. It became a tradition every-time Rhett was in North Island, the two would go up and see Bob for a while. “Brought you a visitor man, little Dotty got big didn’t she?”

“Does he do this a lot?” Dots asking as she walks with you up to Bobs headstone. Her hand couldn’t have been tighter in yours if she wanted it to be. Bradley Bradshaw had lost a lot of good people in his life, the idea they weren’t inherently gone for good helped him process that loss.

“Yeah, you should see him at your grandparents graves—it’s heartbreaking.” It’s a little overwhelming for the teenager who was only just now learning about the events you’d kept a secret from her. The fact someone had died trying to protect you, protect her made her stomach churn.

“I feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

“That feeling never goes away.” You held your daughter close as she cried into your chest. “I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you everything sooner sweetheart.”

“Bobby Bear?” Dot sobbed as she pulled away and wiped her tears. “That was Bob wasn’t it?”

“Uncle Rhett has one too.” Bradley confirmed as if it had been a massive secret that no one ever spoke about. “He was the one who gave it to you.”

“And we all have the same pair of glasses tattooed.” You showed your daughter the faded outline of the pair of aviators you had on your finger. It really needed to be redone. “Your father has his on his wrist.” Dot already knew about the tattoos you both had, she just didn’t know the symbolism behind them.

“Jake has his on his ass—“ The three of you laugh just as the wind picks up around you, Bradley’s convinced it’s Bob laughing too. You just think it’s been windy all damn day.

It’s not till a few weeks later when Rhett’s in town for parent teacher interviews with Phoenix and the twins does he learn that Odette knows about Bob. She tells him point blank when he’s over for dinner catching up with Jake and Amilia.

“Where do you keep your bear Uncle Rhett?”

“What the hell do I keep my what now?” Rhett’s frowning curiously until Dot hands him the tattered old bear that had been threw her entire childhood. Her favourite teddy bear. Bobby Bear.

“Jake told me everything that happened—“ She didn’t have the heart to tell him why, she couldn’t tell her Uncle Rhett she went to see the man who killed his brother. “Mum told me all about him, Bob that is.” Rhett doesn’t know what to say, he knew this day would come. He just wasn’t expecting it to be today.

“C’mere kid.” Rhett’s heading back into the house, he makes his way to the spare room as Dot follows and opened his suitcase. Right at the top is the same identical bear. Just a little less beat up. “He comes everywhere with me.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

[ardynzunia]

Arctus put his bag down. Ready to train with Cor. His father's friend, like many of the Crownsguard, he doesn't interact much from a working level. As much as he's been a part of his "family" since he came to live with his father as a child.

"I work with the glaives mostly on the field, but it's important I understand the Crownsguard better," Arctus explained. "It's easy to related to those more like me, and I know I'm not popular among the more local members of Insomnia. I need them to trust me."

@ardynzunia liked for a small starter

"I must ask you first, before any sort of training begins... what exactly do you intend to train this way for?" Crownsguard training was somewhat serious work in Lucis, and Cor knew full well of that. "What is your end goal?"

[kuroenanan]

I find the airheaded request very cute and funny at the same time! Can you do it again, but with all of Leo/Need? Thanks!

“what an airhead!”

a/n: first leoni req!! i love them a lot actually. enjoy!

them with an airheaded s/o. featuring ichika hoshino, saki tenma, honami mochizuki, and shiho hinomori.

# ichika.

she is always worried for you. always. whenever you’re around, ichika literally cannot take her eyes off of you in fear that you’ll wander off and get lost. of course, she never gets upset with you for this, she finds it rather cute.

if you struggle with technology, ichika is always happy to help! “ichika, i tried to click a certain link but it took me somewhere else. can you help me?” “ah, sure. here, hand it to me.” of course, there’s always the scare of you accidentally downloading a virus onto your phone.

if you get lost easily or tend to wander off, ichika either resorts to holding your hand, or installing a GPS device to your phone. ichika loves you, very much, she’s just constantly concerned about you and your airheadedness.

# saki.

saki thinks you are the cutest thing ever! that little head tilt you do whenever you’re confused, or the way you smile at her when she helps you fix your phone, she loves your airheadedness!

she is always happy to help you if you’re having trouble with your phone. “saki?” “hm?” “my phone won’t turn on. can you help?” “of course! give it here.” and then she proceeds to tell you that it just needs to be charged, and you can borrow her portable one if you wanted!

if you enjoy going on walks and have a bad sense of direction, saki is always a text message away for help! she’ll walk with you wherever you wanted to go, or just around town. sometimes, even she doesn’t notice whenever you wander. “ah, saki, look over there.” as you begin to walk away, “wha- [name], don’t wander off!” she calls, running after you.

# honami.

the caring girl she is, honami is always one step ahead when it comes to you. she’ll gently steer you away from a pole you’re about to walk into, or hold your hand if you’re walking together in a big crowd.

“honami?” you call, “yes, [name]?” the drummer replies. “i can’t seem to find my phone… have you seen it?” “ah… i think it’s in your pocket.” “oh, right.” she laughs gently. honami can’t help but find your airheadedness endearing.

you don’t need to worry about getting lost, honami’s always with you! wether you’re walking to school, to the store, or just walking around, she’s happy to join you. on certain occasions where she can’t be with you, though, she has faith that you’ll be able to manage!

# shiho.

whew, shiho really has her work cut out for her. if someone asked shiho to describe you in simple words, she would respond with: “complete and total airhead” — but she’s never actually annoyed. whenever you come to her and say you’ve lost something, and she points out that you’re holding said thing, she’ll laugh softly and say “you’re such an idiot.” with all of the love in her heart.

much like her older sister, shiho doesn’t mind helping you with technology. if you need to look something up, tell her what it is and she’ll search it for you. though, you’re out of luck if you accidentally download a virus.

there’s been many times where she’s had to leave band practice early to find you. “shiho? where are you going?” asks ichika, “[name] got lost again.” is all she replies with before leaving to get you. when she finds you, she’ll hold onto your wrist and sigh. “i seriously need to install a tracking device onto your phone.” and smiles like a lovesick idiot. she adores you.

[randomnameless]

Thoughts on the Eastern church?

Well...

thanks to a certain paralogue, we know what some people of the Alliance think mercenaries are used for :

Lorenz here is describing the job Knights should have (at least the knights from Faerghus and the Church do), but says mercenaries were hired for that job.

So, in the Alliance, at least for Nopes, it's perfectly acceptable for a noble to rely on hired swords, aka people who are in for the money, than to rely on a permanent force of knights.

And it's the same thing with the Eastern Church, they have no knights - and pride themselves on not having any permanent "military" force - and rely on a local noble (Nilsson? I forgot)'s troops to protect them when things are going wrong...

Except when that local nobles doesn't send them his knights, so they have to cry at the Central Church to please send the Knights of Seiros to help them protect their cities/people.

Bar their hypocrisy, there is also the... lack of presence in everyday/general Alliance/Federation life, like, in Nopes, apparently, no one in the Federation gives a fuck that their King wants to slaughter the Archbishop for "reasons" and no one seems to have any attachment to the Central Church or the Church in general, FE16 Lorenz reminds Billy that in the Alliance, Nobles only pay lip service to the Church.

So... what is their role? They're not spreading the faith or even making sure the randoms who parrot it get the right "version" of said faith, they do not protect their people/the faithful, and no one apparently gives a fuck about the Church of Seiros in the Alliance (if siding with the Empire and killing its Archbishop is any indication)...

At least they didn't try to kill the Archbishop and aren't as xenophobic as the Western Church members, so they won on that level.

Bar that, they're a pretty much souless organisation - even with Fodlan's standards that doesn't bother giving a fig about its own worldbuilding or lore/world elements : but I think we get a pretty picture in GW, when apparently the Bishop of the Eastern Church wanted to, uh, celebrate Clout's coronation to "ease the people" - who are later revealed not to give a fuck about the CoS - so what was even the point?

Is he representing his entire Church Branch, doing something useless, rather, pretending to have some importance when he has none? And banking on said "pretend importance" to have a sway on the new leader of the country? IDK.

The Eastern Church doesn't have anything meaningful to write about - bar, again, their hypocrisy - but imo, and maybe it's more hc than canon at that point, the Eastern Church is a church branch that forgot why it exists or what is its purpose (spread the faith or at least make sure it's not deliberatly misinterpreted/used by people who dgaf about it, provide relief/support/help to people, etc).

[kumeko]

Prompt: I like the war phase of 3 Houses so much for these 2. Something filled with yearning (or the crescendo of the yearning). I like the idea of them liking each other so much but not pursuing until "things are settled", or whatnot. Being scared of losing them. Best friends who pine. Anything like that.

A/N: For LucyGringe for the @claudelethgifts.  I love pining and ahh, these two just spending the war phase yearning is chef’s kiss, I can only hope I wrote it well. I feel like Claude would know it’s mutual, while Byleth would be a bit more in the dark (even to her own feelings). Does that make it harder? Easier?

It was a bit hard to figure out how to connect this until I went for a “five times he grabbed her hand and the one time she grabbed his” format.

…

…

…

…

0

The ring weighed heavily in his pocket.

1

They were in the middle of a war, a simple fact that Claude had to remind himself of over and over again. He’d spent five years in this war, had fought and bled and killed as the months and years passed.

Despite that, it was all too easy to forget the calluses on his fingers as he walked in the forest. Around him, his former classmates chattered, dappled in shadow and light, and if he squinted, he could almost see their teenage selves. They could be returning from a class mission instead of a bloody battle.

It was all Byleth’s fault.

Claude peeked at the woman by his side. She didn’t look a day older than when she’d disappeared. Maybe he’d slipped back in time, turning back the clock to when the worst opponents he’d faced were bandits instead of former allies. When he could justify the blood that had stained his hands.

He wasn’t the only one feeling this way. A jovial mood filled the air as his friends reunited for the first time in years. Leoni led the pack, smirking as she taunted Hilda and Lorenz. “Your attacks were sloppy.”

“As though yours were refined.” Lorenz scrunched his nose. Despite the mud and blood streaking his robes, he still held a dignified aura about him.

“Ugh, you’re making me agree with him,” Hilda bit out, grumpy. She snapped at Leonie, “That’s really the first thing you say to me in months?”

Behind them, Ignatz rubbed his neck shyly as he glanced at Marianne. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Marianne flushed and gave a soft smile. “M-me too. I think so too.”

“I missed you guys!” Raphael shouted as he wrapped his arms around Ignatz and Lysithea, dragging them into his embrace. Somehow, he’d grown bigger, more muscular, a feat that Claude hadn’t thought possible.

And on the exact opposite end of the spectrum, Lysithea hadn’t even gained an inch. She hissed, “Get off me, you big oaf!”

Though he’d never admit it aloud, Claude had missed this banter. There wasn’t really any room for it when all of Fódlan was in flames. And he wasn’t the only one to think so—from the corner of his eye, Claude watched as Byleth’s lips twitched, her expression softening as she studied her former students. A far cry from the old days, when she’d been hard to read.

Or maybe he’d just gotten better at it.

“Whatcha thinking, Teach?” Claude asked, the old moniker slipping off his tongue out of habit. He hadn’t said her nickname in ages and yet, it was impossible to think of her without it.

“It’s really been five years,” Byleth replied, finally turning away from the group to him. Her eyes widened slightly, as though realizing something.

She’d left an easy opening, and he couldn’t resist. “I couldn’t tell looking at you.”

Byleth didn’t seem to hear him. “You’re taller.”

“That’s old news now, Teach,” Claude teased. Their growth spurts had come and gone, and he’d almost forgotten how short he’d used to be, how they’d used to be on the same eye level. “Is that all you noticed?”

“No…” Byleth studied him, overly serious for a throwaway comment. Whatever she saw, she frowned. “You know battle now.”

“You’ve seen me fight before.” Claude raised a brow, not quite following.

She pursed her lips, considering her words before replying, “You know of war.”

He wondered if it was that obvious. He wondered what signs he’d shown, that they’d all shown.

He wondered when she’d first learned the lessons he kept learning every day.

“In ways I wish I hadn’t,” Claude replied wryly. He glanced at his friends in front of him. Even the way they walked was different, their steps quieter, their bodies tense. They were always ready for a fight these days. “Maybe we can keep up with you now.”

“I liked it better when you couldn’t,” Byleth replied honestly, clenching her fist.

“Me too.” But if Claude had wanted easy and comfortable, he would have gone home to Almyra, leaving Fódlan to clean up its own messes. Or maybe he’d have never crossed those mountains in the first place. “But it’s our choice.”

Byleth’s frown deepened as she clenched her fists tighter. Despite her feelings, she didn’t say anything, just walking quietly next to him. Rocks and twigs crunched underfoot, the rest of his old classmates’ bickering fading into a soft murmur.

This wasn’t how he wanted Byleth’s first day back to go. There was plenty of bad to deal with as it was. If only for now, if only for this moment, he wanted her to be happy.

Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around her balled fist, squeezing lightly. “Glad you’re back, Teach.”

Byleth glanced down, then at him. Her eyes were as green as the forest and she offered a rare smile. “Me too.”

Something in him tightened at her expression.

Before he could say anything, he heard shouts in the distance.

“Another fight?” Hilda complained, readying her axe.

“That’s what war is,” Claude quipped as he reluctantly let go of Byleth’s hand. “You survive one fight just to get into another one.”

2

If the rest of Fódlan was still in the middle of a war, the monastery was stuck in the aftermath of one. Even now, years later, it was still a mess of rubble and scorched bricks, the academy no longer the same as it had been in his youth. The rebuilding had been slow, with only key structures needed to house their soldiers rebuilt. Wild flowers and grasses grew along familiar paths, nature reclaiming what had been abandoned.

If it was this hard for him to see, he could only imagine how much harder it was for her. Dismayed, Byleth trailed after him as he guided her to where the dorms used to be.

“We haven’t had time to clear this up,” Claude explained, a paltry excuse. Broken glass crunched underfoot and he winced. “Nor the resources.”

Byleth’s jaw tightened. “That’s war.”

“That’s war,” he agreed with a sigh.

As they passed by the pond, Byleth stopped by the dock. Kneeling, she reached over the side and skimmed her fingertips on the cold water. “It’s shallower.”

“It is?” Claude stared at the murky waters. He could just see their reflections. It had never been this quiet here before—even outside of the big fishing tournament, there had always been a few students hoping for a big catch. Flayn had almost drowned once, trying to use her hands instead of her rod, and Seteth had almost banned everyone from getting within a meter of the shoreline. “Good eye, Teach.”

“It’s not my eye.” Byleth stood, wiping her hands on her pants. “It was just yesterday for me.”

“Yesterday…” Part of Claude still couldn’t believe she’d slept through the past five years. Despite all he’d seen, it still felt too fantastical, too magical. But there had been nothing logical about how she’d disappeared and returned, about how her hair turned green or even how she always seemed to already know when an attack was coming.

More importantly, he couldn’t deny the truth in front of him. Byleth really hadn’t aged a day since he’d last seen her. Her knowledge of the present was abysmal and even hermits knew of the current state of affairs.

“Then maybe you can help with the rebuilding,” Claude suggested, keeping his voice carefully upbeat. He nodded in the direction of the main hall. “Lysithea hasn’t found the blueprints and it’s a little harder for the rest of us to remember where everything was.”

“I thought there weren’t enough resources?” she asked.

“This is headquarters now.” Claude gestured at the academy behind him. “And you’re Rhea’s heir apparent, or so the true believers say, so…might as well. It’ll help raise morale.”

“…Rhea.” Byleth bit her lip, glancing at the direction of the church. Despite Edelgard’s best efforts, it still stood strong, the towering walls peeking over the rest of the academy. “Is…my father…”

Claude knew what she meant. “He’s still there,” he answered gently.

“Ah.” Claude could guess what she meant. “He’s still there.”

“Good.” While she didn’t run, Byleth’s pace picked up as she headed toward the academy’s graveyard. Luckily, the battle had managed to avoid most of it, leaving Jeralt’s marker untouched by the forces of war or the tides of time.

Well, not entirely. Weeds grew around the gravestone. He’d have to make sure to clear this out later.

Not minding the overgrown grass or mud, Byleth knelt in front of the marker, her fingers gently brushing her father’s name. “It all happened so fast,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the a. Her eyes were dry. “Too fast.”

In more ways than one. Claude remembered losing Byleth once, remembered her returning, remembered the earth disappearing underneath his feet as she vanished once more. There had been little time when it had all gone down. Jeralt had died. Edelgard had betrayed them. Dimitri had gone mad.

He’d spent five years with regrets, his chest heavy with all the things he’d never said.

And now Byleth had survived and he still couldn’t say them.

“Now’s the time to go slow,” he said instead, kneeling next to her. Had he always been this much of a coward? He covered her hand with his. “I’m here, if you need me.”

3

Claude grinned as he sat down in his old seat in the Golden Deer classroom. The layout was different, but there were still tables and chairs, still a blackboard and a desk, and that was more than enough to feel like he was back in class. Out of all the repairs, he had looked forward to this one the most.

For almost a year, this classroom had been a home of sorts.

“It’s been ages since I sat here,” he said, sprawling across the table. It was still an uncomfortable spot for a nap, but if he turned his head just so, he could discretely watch Byleth as she examined the room.

She ran her fingers along the desks before approaching the blackboard. “What will this be used for now?”

“Nothing much,” Claude admitted. If he closed his eyes, he could smell chalk in the air, hear the chatter of his classmates. “Strategy meetings, I guess. Leonie and Raphael just couldn’t stand seeing it destroyed so they fixed it up whenever they had the free time.”

Byleth pressed her hand to the blackboard. She didn’t look at him as she asked, “And the other rooms?”

He had never spent too much time in the other classrooms, but he could still picture them now. The crimson red of the eagles, the vibrant blue of the lions—Dimitri’s flustered smile when he was teased, Edelgard’s sharp smirk whenever she had a comeback.

A better memory than Byleth’s sword, red from Edelgard’s blood, the tatters of Dimitri’s blue cape as he fought like a man possessed.

Regrets that he couldn’t think, let alone voice.

“They’re still in disrepair,” Claude finally replied, sitting up.

Byleth didn’t say anything but her shoulders slumped slightly. With a quiet sigh, she tapped the blackboard. “I never knew what to write when I was up here.”

Claude chuckled. “I could tell.” With how awkward her first few weeks as teacher, it was easy to tell how unprepared she was for it. “Why’d you accept the position?”

“I don’t know.” She turned around, her eyes meeting his. “I just felt…I had to. That something might change if I did. Why’d you ask me to come to your house?”

“Because I knew something might change if I did,” Claude echoed. Though, he had expected Fódlan or his house to change, not himself. Feeling mischievous, he grinned. “You know, we never finished our classes, Teach.”

“That…” She pondered, crossing her arms as she leaned against the board. “No, we didn’t.”

“And we didn’t really graduate,” Claude continued, walking over to her slowly.

She squinted at him, sensing a trap. “That’s true.”

“Then…” Claude smiled innocently. “Maybe you should give your last class. Just to wrap things up.”

Byleth shot him a dubious look. “…no one else is here.”

“It’s a private lesson,” he cajoled, ready to counter any objection. He grabbed her hand. “You wouldn’t leave a student in need, would you?”

“You don’t actually need it,” Byleth pointed out, but she couldn’t hide her own smile as she figured out his game. “You’re leading the army just fine.”

“For how long?” Claude wiped an imaginary tear. “What would my grandfather think about his uneducated heir? What about our men?”

“Fine.” It was faint, but he heard a laugh as she nodded. “Just one.”

4

It was strange to study again. Claude sat in the monastery’s library, a stack of books around him, the musty smell tickling his nose. Most of the library had survived the fire after the Adestrian Empire had attacked, from the books down to the literature, and he spotted more than a few doodles on the table from bored students decades past.

And in the book he was reading too. History made a good teacher for tactics, though someone hadn’t told the kid who’d drawn a stickman running on the bottom of the book. Repressing a sigh, he peeked over his book at his companion.

Next to him, Byleth hunched over the table, her brow furrowing as she examined the continent’s map. As a student, he’d never imagined learning with her. War and time had a funny way of making everyone equals. For all of her fighting expertise, Byleth had five years of geopolitical changes to catch up on before she could help spearhead any attacks.

Her knees knocked into his as she sat back to compare the map with an open book.

Claude grinned and tapped her shoulder. When she turned to him, blinking owlishly, he poked her forehead. “Don’t scowl too much. It’ll freeze like that.”

Her lips pursed as she considered his words. “How?”

Half a decade of sleep hadn’t made her any better with jokes. Claude shrugged and laughed. “I’m not sure, actually. It’s just something my mother used to say.”

“Oh.” She turned slightly, considering him. Her arm brushed his. Propping her chin on her hand, she asked idly, “Is that why you’re always smiling?”

“I wouldn’t say always,” he answered, mirroring her posture. It felt childish but when her lips quirked, he knew he’d made the right move. “But smiles work better than frowns. You can get more done.”

Byleth’s expression softened. “…Jeralt said something similar before.”

Claude winced. He hadn’t expected that landmine. “He did?”

“Yes.” Despite his fears, she didn’t appear down. Fondly, she recounted, “He used to say, ‘It’s easier to get clients and a bonus if you’re approachable.’”

Now that sounded like a mercenary’s advice. Claude laughed. “He wasn’t wrong.”

“He rarely was.” Byleth nodded. “I wasn’t very good at it.”

“You’re still not good at it,” he teased. “That’s what you have me for.”

She smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

He could only watch as she straightened and reached for her book once more. Byleth had always been blunt and straight to the point, but…this was something else. Something different. She smiled more. Talked longer. Sat closer. Even now, as she pulled her book closer, he could feel her proximity, the way her arms grazed his whenever she adjusted her position, the way her hand lingered when she handed him her map.

“Who has the Ordelia territory now?” she asked, looking at him with her bright green eyes. Even the way she looked at him had shifted to unfamiliar territory.

Claude had never thought of himself as a scholar, not in the way Lindhardt had been, but he knew Byleth well enough to write a paper.

And he knew this truth: She liked him.

Unfortunately, that led him to his second conclusion: he couldn’t push this any further. Not now, not with the weight of Rhea’s position on her shoulders, not with the fate of the war riding on their efforts.

“The empire, but it’s a little more tricky than that,” Claude replied, resisting the urge to grab her hand when she pulled back. “Never thought I’d be the one teaching you, Teach.”

He’d swallowed his words five years ago. He could do it again.

5

War killed; a fact that was all too real as Claude stared at the very injured Byleth. Lying on her cot in her tent, blood matting her hair to her face and staining her armour, she was barely conscious as Manuela took care of her. The older woman huffed as she chanted under her breath, her hands glowing as she healed the worst of Byleth’s wounds.

“You shouldn’t be in the vanguard like that,” Manuela barked, irritated as she inspected Byleth for further injuries. Despite her sharp tone, her hands were gentle as she poked and prodded.

“Someone has to be,” Byleth replied tiredly, raising a hand to cover her eyes. She groaned softly as Manuela touched a particularly tender spot.

“That someone isn’t you!” Manuela snapped, her touch turning rough from irritation as she finished checking Byleth. Claude had a feeling their wine inventory was about to miss a few bottles. “You’re too important to fight every mercenary that we cross. You’re our leader!”

“Claude is,” Byleth argued feebly.

Manuela snorted. “Please. Don’t try to wiggle your way out of this.”

Claude released a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Manuela straightened and stepped back. “All’s good?” he asked, somehow managing to keep his voice from cracking.

“For now.” Manuela crossed her arms and glared at Byleth. “If not for yourself, think of me! It’s tiring patching you up!”

Byleth gave her a flat stare before nodding. “I will.”

“Just do it. Why are all of my patients masochists?” Manuela groaned, running a hand through her hair. “Make sure you don’t overexert yourself—I fixed most of the injuries but there’s a few that need to heal naturally.”

“… yes.” Byleth agreed.

“Are you just saying that? I heard the hesitation!” Manuela whirled to Claude, fire in her eyes. He took a step back defensively as she jabbed his chest. “You. Make sure she gets her rest.”

He’d have done it even if she hadn’t asked. Claude forced a grin. “Aww, you trust me now?”

“Not a bit, but you’re better than her.” Manuela picked up her staff and stalked past Claude. “I’ll leave the rest to you.”

Claude winced as she stomped out, no doubt heading toward the supply tent. Well, just this once, he’d overlook it. It had been a bad fight. Their healers had worked overtime to the point even Lysithea had admitted she was tired.

And Byleth hadn’t so much as lifted her head since they’d brought her to her tent.

Despite the healing, she was still covered in blood, her minor scratches and injuries left untended. Manuela claimed that it promoted natural healing. He’d long suspected she was just too tired to do it all. Quietly, he perched on the cot next to her, trying and failing to put words to his feelings.

His heart was heavy. Heavier than his unsaid words, heavier than the ring that had sat in his pocket for the last few weeks.

Byleth lowered her hand, staring back at him. Her mouth opened, as though to say something, before she closed it once more.

Those eyes had almost closed forever. “That was dangerous.”

“War is dangerous,” she stated.

He tightened his jaw. She was alive and she was here and part of him had feared that this might be their last time together, that he’d just be left with his regrets. “You don’t have to make it more dangerous. The idea is to come home alive.”

Byleth’s brow furrowed. “I did.”

“This was close.” His voice caught in his throat. Keeping his hands from shaking, he squeezed her hand. She always fought close combat, sword in hand. As accurate as his arrows were, he could only pick off so many enemies before they approached her. All it took was one wrong move, one slip up, and she’d be too far for any aid.

And even Byleth couldn’t come back from death.

But he could tell from how her jaw set that there was no use in telling her that. Byleth was stubborn, ever her father’s daughter, and it would take more than a few words to change that. “Just…be careful,” he pleaded.

Her expression softened and she forced herself to sit up with a groan. Before he could move, she covered his hand with her own, sandwiching it between her palms. “I am, always.”

Her hands were still cold. Claude smiled wryly, not quite believing. “You better be.”

6

Tomorrow, the war would be over.

It was a strange thought. The nightmare of half a decade would soon be over. No, it had been longer than that—their enemy had existed centuries, making their mark in the annals of history. And now, a final one.

Win or lose, the world as they knew it would change after tomorrow.

Maybe that was why he’d convinced Byleth to take one last walk with him through the monastery’s grounds. She’d kept quiet for most of the walk, as they passed by familiar haunts. The repairs had patched up most of the school’s grounds; even the greenhouse’s panes were all replaced.

Byleth stopped in front of the Goddess tower. In the late evening, most of it was hidden in shadow, the upper floors almost impossible to see. Her expression was distant, hard to read. “Do you still not believe in the Goddess?”

“Does it matter?” he asked, standing next to her.

“No…just…” Byleth closed her eyes. “I suppose she wasn’t entirely a Goddess.”

She. Byleth spoke as though she’d known the Goddess. Perhaps she had. Even now, even after all this time, Claude only had question after question for Byleth. There was so much he didn’t know, so much he wanted to know.

But for now, he’d just start with this: “Do you have one now?”

“One what?” Byleth asked, perplexed.

“An ambition.” Claude grinned. “You said you didn’t really have one, back then.”

“Oh…” Byleth turned back to the tower, staring up. The wind blew softly through her hair, making her already messy hair messier. She turned back to him and nodded. “I do.”

“And you’re not going to tell me.” He sighed, faking a pout. “Well, I guess I do believe in her a little then.” When Byleth raised a brow, he covered his mouth in mock-horror. “Teach, don’t tell me you forgot our wish?”

“Oh.” Byleth rubbed her chin thoughtfully before realization crossed her eyes. “Right.”

Now he actually felt a little hurt. “Seriously?”

“Do you want to make another wish?” she asked as a way of apology.

Well, he couldn’t say no to that. Claude sighed. “What to wish for…to win the battle?”

“No,” Byleth said decisively. “We’re going to do that anyways.”

How was he supposed to disagree with that? Claude laughed. “Well, if you’re that confident…”

“For a brighter dawn,” Byleth said, her eyes locked on his.

“That’s poetic.”

“You told me that once.” She stared at the tower. “We’re going to make a better Fódlan.”

Her hand was close and if he wanted to, he could reach across and intertwine their fingers. No, not want, that wasn’t the right word—there was nothing more that he wanted. The ring was still in his pocket, the words stuck in his throat.

But to a fault, Claude had always been pragmatic.  As was Byleth.

And now was not the time.

“To a brighter dawn,” Claude said instead. “And this time, it won’t take five years.”

“It won’t.” To his surprise, Byleth turned and took his hand. “We still have that other promise.”

For once, she’d struck him speechless. “Promise?”

“You told me to save you a dance,” she said, gently chiding him. “Now who’s forgetting?”

He burst into laughter. “That’s fair.” Still clasping her hand, Claude bowed deeply. “Will you honour me with a dance, milady?”

If there was one thing Claude had learned, it was that now wasn’t forever. The ring weighed heavily in his pocket, but only for now. His words were stuck in his throat, but only for now.

Tomorrow, come hell or high water, he’d finally take that last step to her side.

[sodaabaa]

his shadow chapter three; nikolai

nikolai lantsov x OC inessa, the darkling's daughter and a childhood friend of ravka's golden prince, joins nikolai and alina in their plan to fight against the darkling.

tw: just some angst

masterlist

My closest friend, my most trusted confidant. 

Nikolai rubbed at his temples. Within the last few hours, he learned that the girl who nearly killed his father had been a part of his crew the entire time, that his father was a rapist, and that his mother not only knew, but allowed it to happen. 

He poured himself another glass of kvas, he’d need something stronger than whiskey tonight. He downed the bitter liquid, relishing in the burn. 

Inessa hadn’t informed him of Genya’s situation which worsened the entire situation tenfold. He’d been angry with her at first but as the information settled within him, he realized she was just protecting a friend who’d been hurt. Guilt washed over Nikolai, he shouldn’t have sent her away like he did. 

Nikolai stood, his head spinning momentarily as a result of many glasses of the strong liquor. He steadied himself before walking through the grand double doors at the front of the study and into the hall. Nobles, guards, and servants were a blur as Nikolai rushed to the Little Palace. 

“Nikolai? What are you doing here at this hour?” Spoke Adrik as Nikolai entered the building. 

“Inessa, where is she?” He replied.

“I haven’t seen her since the party, why?” 

“Nothing. I just needed to talk to her, that’s all.” He passed Adrik with a pat on the shoulder and continued into the building.

He stood before her door, his chest filling as he inhaled. Nikolai raised his hand to knock, but it opened as soon as he laid his fist on the obsidian door. 

“Inessa?” Nikolai stepped inside, scanning the room for the Shadow Summoner.

Her bed was made, windows closed, not a sign of Inessa’s presence in the dark room. 

Where the hell is she? Nikolai thought, anxiety rising to the surface.

He left Inessa’s room and rushed to the Triumvirate’s meeting hall, he rang the emergency bell near the center of the room. Within minutes, David, Genya, Zoya, Adrik, Leoni, Tolya, and Tamar piled in, their voices filling up the room. Alina and Mal entered last. 

“What’s wrong?” Genya asked, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“I swear to the Saints, Nikolai, the Fjerdans better be attacking for you to call us at this ungodly hour.” Zoya rumbled. 

“Inessa’s missing.” 

The room fell silent. 

“What do you mean ‘missing?’ And are you sure?” Alina said.

“I mean I went to her room and it was empty, nothing had been disturbed. Her bed was made, the window was closed and the lights were off.” He paused. 

“Inessa likes to leave the window slightly open at night and she always keeps the lights on.” 

“She may have just gone for a walk or something, right?” Mal asked.

“Has anyone seen her since the banquet?” Tamar asked.

The members of the Triumvirate looked around to each other, no one had an answer. No one had seen her. 

“Could she have been taken? And if so, by who? No doubt we have many enemies but not many know of Inessa, why take her?” Tolya mused.

“You don’t think it was him, do you?” Zoya asked.

“Who else could it have been?” David said.

“How are we going to find her if-”

“She’d been working on a map of the Darkling’s strongholds in Ravka.” Nikolai cut Zoya off. 

He reached for a cluster of papers, shuffling through them in search of the map that she’d been working on. 

“Here.” Nikolai said, laying the map out on the table.

There were three red marks on the map, indicating areas the Darkling held influence over. Inessa’s notes were written on the margins of the map, explaining each area.

“Ulensk, Udova, and Arkesk. He has loyal followers in each area. But he couldn’t have gotten that far in one night? That’s across the fold.” Mal spoke.

“He could be in the area tonight, granted cover by night. By morning he’d be in Adena, the closest city to the Fold.” Genya said.

Nikolai turned to Mal, “can you track her? She couldn’t have gotten far.” 

Mal looked at the map and then back at Nikolai. “I can try. We should split up and you should take a pair of trackers as well.”

Nikolai shook his head, “I won’t need them. Zoya, Tolya, Adrik, you all are with me. Alina, Leoni, and Tamar will go with Mal.” He nodded to the group.

“David and Genya, you two are responsible for keeping the Little Palace from trouble for the time being.” He finished.

“Splendid.” David muttered. 

“What’ve you found?” Nikolai asked.

“Isn’t this a piece of her kefta?” He lifted a scrap of black fabric with fibers of silver thread on the corners. Nikolai took the fabric. His head swam, plagued with possibilities of what happened to Inessa. He clenched his jaw, his hand closing around the swatch of fabric. 

“The ground here shows signs of someone passing by recently.” Nikolai said, his voice grave as he continued, “We should go on this way.” 

Nikolai, Adrik, Zoya and Tolya trekked on. They’d been searching for hours in the harsh night, at this point they were miles away from Os Alta. 

“Should we signal the others?” Tolya asked. 

Nikolai and Alina had made a plan, whoever was first to find a lead to where Inessa could be would signal the others. Alina’s signal was, quite obviously, a ray of light in the sky. Zoya recommended using a lighting strike as their signal. 

Nikolai gave a nod to Zoya who immediately lifted her arms to create a lightning strike.

“Let’s rest here until they find us.” Adrik said, leaning against a tree.

“You all should rest, I’m continuing.” 

“He speaks as if he’s a grisha. If anyone should be resting, it’s you.” Zoya retorted. 

Nikolai rolled his shoulders and massaged a kink in his neck. “I’ll be fine.” 

The demon inside of Nikolai was growing more restless as they inched closer to the Darkling, as if it could sense its creator, its tormentor. 

Nikolai continued walking, getting farther away from the group.

Maybe it’s time to let you out. 

His breathing grew shallow, his eyes closing and heart slowing down. Nikolai flexed his hands, curling and uncurling his fingers in anticipation. 

Come on. You have to find her.

His shoulder blades expanded, growing into black wings. His fingernails dug into his palms, trying his best to keep silent. His neck tilted and turned, black veins crawling up his throat, his arms, his legs. Fingers became claws, eyes turned black, teeth sharpening. 

Nikolai-no, he wasn’t Nikolai anymore. He was Korol Rezni, King of Scars. He shot into the sky, nostrils flaring and eyes scanning the area below in search of his creator. He came to an abrupt stop. His eyes narrowed on a spot in the distance. He soared through the clouds, diving for his target. 

He landed with a loud crash. The demon stalked through the trees, eyes already trained on the target, his black kefta blending into the night.

The Darkling turned, eyebrows raised. He chuckled.

“Well, this is a surprise.” 

The demon wasted no time, he pounced right onto the grisha, tearing and clawing into him. He shrieked, baring his fangs. The Darkling raised shadows, using tendrils of darkness to claw the demon off of him. He did not relent, continuing his assault. 

“Nikolai?” 

The demon’s attention faltered, searching for that voice. The Darkling used that opportunity to grab the demon into a choke hold, restrained by the tendrils of smoke.

“Let go of him!” 

Darkness ran toward the demon, a thick cloud surrounding the Darkling. The shadows tightened around the grisha, causing his grip on the demon to falter.

“Run!” The voice said. 

The demon snarled, turning onto the Darkling.  Shadows trailed around him, pushing him to the side. His head shot to the girl who was raising her hands, preparing for an attack.

Darkness gathered, a metallic line forming in the middle. 

“You’d kill your own father, girl? Even I showed Baghra mercy.” “You blinded her.” She spat.

“I could have killed her. I showed mercy. You’re no better than me.” “You kept her alive as a warning to those who defy you.” 

“Clever girl. Go on then, what are you waiting for?” The Darkling held his arms out.

The girl raised her arms and slashed across the air, throwing a blade a darkness that missed the Darkling by a hair.

“Pathetic.” He spat.

“Take him.” The girl said, dropping her arms and walking away.

From the shadows, three people surrounded the Darkling. A girl made of light restraining him while a boy kept a clenched fist, stealing the air from the Darkling’s lungs. His eyes widened, gasping for air, attempting to call onto the darkness to save him.

“INESSA.” He roared. 

Inessa. 

Nikolai suddenly became aware of what had just happened. He ran after her.

“Inessa!” Nikolai called out.

There she was, sitting against the trunk of a tree. Her legs were clutched to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees and her head tucked in. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs.

“Nes?” Nikolai said, sitting down beside the girl.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here. It’s over. Look at me.” He cooed.

She lifted her head slightly, chin still tucked into her arms. Inessa shook her head.

“It’s never going to be over, Nikolai. Even if he’s not physically here, he will haunt me until the day I die.” She choked on her words. Tears fell rapidly down her cheeks. 

Nikolai didn’t know what else to do, so he wrapped her in his arms. She buried her head in his shoulder, gripping onto him with a strength he didn’t know she possessed. Nikolai stroked her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple, trying his best to soothe her. They stayed in each other's embrace until rays of light broke through the grey clouds.