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lucidcreates · 2 months ago

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Willie Gaymon's Going Home Ceremony

A story from Pamelita's (his sister-in-law) perspective.

It was a sad day for the family as we gathered together to say a final farewell to Willie Gaymon, Father, Grandfather, Husband, Brother, Uncle, Cousin, Friend.

The day we heard of his passing, some family drove from another state to support each other, though grieving we were there for each other sharing fond memories.

The family again came together to find ways to give Willie a respectful funeral. Times are tough but his stepson Kyrelle (we call him KP), who Willie helped to raise since KP was two years old (KP is now 33 years old) had the idea to start a GoFundMe, loved ones and strangers gave to the fund and because of this it gratefully helped the family to truly honor Willie, sending him home with dignity. The funds helped to cover some of the costs of the funeral.

The day of the funeral we gathered at the designated funeral home to pay our respects. We hugged each other. Of course many cried, and we held onto one another, stood beside each other as we listened to good memories of Willie. Tears of grief helped to release the sadness and possible turmoil within. We listened and were there for each other.

As one walked into the large funeral room where Willie lay one felt and sensed the love and respect the family have for him. Lovely music played low, some of his favorite songs, giant bouquet of white roses and other flowers placed near the end of his coffin, many pictures of Willie and his family in various collages, some on the door as one walked in, other picture collages near him. A digital screen of more family pictures and memories, every picture with Willie smiling, holding his children when they were babies, and through the years his being there for his children and sharing good times with loved ones. I noticed many (but not most) of the pictures displayed I took throughout the years.

Willie is my brother-in-law and at the time of his passing my sister and he were divorced for some years, yet I knew many of Willie's family. As I attended the funeral to be there for family and to pay my respects to Willie, I said hi to every single person whether or not I knew them, and most I did not know, and I hugged every single person I knew or if they looked familiar. I just wanted to send my love in different ways. With most of Willie's family I let them know I am his sister-in-law and mentioned my sister's name, ahhh, many said, they remembered me or knew of me via my sister, and some of Willie's family I kept in contact with.

"I just saw him two months ago." I said to some. In June I brought Willie's youngest son over to see him at different times while my nephew staid with me during the summer, his son also staid over Willie's for father and son time and bonding. I also sat each time and spoke with Willie, once we spoke for over an hour. The last phone text message I received from him was early August 2024, he said he was going on a trip to visit his eldest sister down South, I text back to have a fun good time and to have a safe journey. Less than two weeks later he passed on August 14.

Raw honesty, Willie and I had our ups and downs as in-laws have through the thirty to thirty one years of knowing each other since he met and married my sister, but what remained was the respect and love, everything else as the saying goes is 'water under the bridge', meaning it flows away. The last times I met Willie we showed and spoke only respect for each other.

At the funeral during the wake, which is before the ceremony so one can walk to the coffin and say farewell, one of Willie's child, the only one with his name sake, Willie Junior, stood over Willie's coffin and did not move, even during the service. Silent and sad, holding Willie's white gloved hand. The love in the room for Willie filled the air.

Willie was well dressed in a medium-dark gray suit, he had on a dark gray hat similar to a trilby hat and had on white clothed gloves. He was presented well and with care, going home in high style and classy classic fashion, laying relaxed on a soft white 'bedding' in his shiny new coffin during his long sleep.

"He looks peaceful. He is at peace." I said for his family, especially for Willie, Jr to hear. Some nodded.

My sister, though Willie's ex-wife for years, kept in touch with Willie's siblings and other family, she helped a great deal with the funeral arrangements, helped to prepare the hall where the repass would be held, along with other family such as my nephews and nieces, helped with the funeral program (which included some of Willie's sensational and talented paintings and artwork), helped to put together the pictures for the collages seen around the ceremonial room, my sis and her children, Willie's siblings, and others did a good job in giving Willie a wonderful send off. A tribute and personal touch at the repass was to put paint brushes in every bouquet vase which sat in the center of each table, to honor Willie as an artist and a painter, a lovely idea presented by one of my nephews.

The service began with a prayer and the family walking in, a very long line of family, then a niece of Willie reminded everyone that first and foremost the foundation of their family is Love.

The ceremony was lovely, there were family representing Willie's siblings (he was the only brother of six, five sisters, two who passed before him), Willie's nieces and nephews, Willie's children. Each spoke so highly of Willie, amazing speeches and retelling of happy times and the man Willie was, of how he supported his family and impacted each of them. My nephews and nieces gave phenomenal, loving speeches which touched my heart.

Each person gave good fond memories and reminded others why Willie was so special to them. What a wonderful tribute.

Later during the 'open to all' where anyone can come up to speak, friends and family reminded everyone why Willy was an amazing person. Friends Willie knew for twenty, thirty, forty, fifty years, childhood friends and those he met along the way in his long well-lived life.

Willie had a Tailor Shop and was a gifted Fashion Designer. He later found his passion in Teaching, taught for over 30 years as an Art Teacher. He also sketched and painted and many requested his artwork. There was a collage of his artwork in back of the funeral program.

More than anything willy was a Family Man. He had many children and helped to raise them all. Willie also was a Father Figure to a host of people, especially to some of his nieces, nephews and family friends who looked up to him. Some who spoke reminded us how he was there for them as not just an Uncle but also as a Father Figure. Such good memories.

Some took the passing hard, one person in particular went up there to express her pain, in a dramatic way, that's all I will say about that.

There were poems read, songs sung, scriptures read, pastors who spoke, people nodded, smiled, laughed with fun and funny memories of happiness with Willie. Some friends were pastors so we had many blessings as they recalled a life shared with Willie as a good friend. He was sent off with love, a celebration, as we were reminded this is a time to honor and cheer Willie, not just to cry that he is gone. The good times were remembered, and sometimes laughter filled the air with a good joke to lighten the mood. The telling of a long good life which made an impact on many.

Willie will be remembered by many, he impacted so many lives.

After the ceremony there was one last farewell to Willie as people viewed him in his coffin for the last time, hugs between loved ones, and then many headed to the repass held at a church, which is mine and my sisters church we were raised up in from Sunday school, Bible lessons, choir practice, teen fellowships, gatherings, church service. Each of my sister's children were christened at this church. Willie and my Sister were married at this church and also held their wedding reunion. In the community hall of this church the repass was held.

My nephew, my sister's eldest child, Willie's stepson, cooked for 100 people for the repass, a 5 star catering from a talented Chef. My nephew Kyrelle, we call him KP, is a chef, he did so much to help honor his stepfather. Family and friends ate, drank (no alcohol allowed in the church though some snuck in liquor), and continued to cheer good memories of Willie. Willie's eldest child and first daughter made T-shirts with Willie's face and the words "In Loving Memory of Willie Gaymon. Forever In Our Hearts."

There seemed to be about 150 to 200 people at the funeral but less than 100 were at the repass because there was plenty of food left over, and some took silver pans of food home for another day.

I did not go to the repass, but I heard it was truly wonderful. I saw a video of all the food my nephew cooked, just wow.

Some family staid over my home the day before the funeral and the night after the funeral. After the repass some of Willie's children and family staid up all night, continue to recall memories of Willie and supporting each other in love. When they were ready to sleep, some gave me a call and though 2am in the morning, I woke up to receive their call and opened the door to let them in, having made up spare beds with clean sheets, pillow, (no blanket needed since it was a hot summer), so they can have a safe place to stay. The next day family headed home. Some took planes, or railway trains, or couch buses, or drove in cars to get to the funeral, and of course those traveling from all boroughs of the city. And now they were headed home.

I reminded the children that grief will hit them, it's OK to cry, release the grief, but no matter what keep going.

The way for them to continue to honor their Father is to honor themselves. Their Father loved each and every one of them very much and the children taking care of themselves, getting along with each other, living a good happy life, is what Willie wanted the most, to see them doing well. Honor the memory of your Father by honoring yourself. His children are his Legacy.

Willie was a Father figure to many, he had two biological children before he met my sister, and was a Father figure to others, including nieces and nephews, again before he met my sister. My sis had one child, KP, before meeting Willy. They blended their family after meeting each other, all the children raised together and kept in touch during childhood and as adults. Now most of Willie's children are adults, his two youngest are teenagers, 17 and 15. I continue to pray for all of Willie's children, not just the biological ones of my sister. Some of Willie's nieces and nephews call me Auntie. All the children and the rest of the family vow to continue to keep in touch and be there for each other as they go through the grief and sorrow of losing Willie.

An example of the Father figure Willie was to many, my little cousin (she's now in her thirties) saw Willie as a Father figure, she lived with my sis and Willie for some years and Willie taught her how to drive. My young cousin was not a biological family of Willie and yet he treated her not only as part of his family, but like a daughter. As I stood next to her while we were over Willie's coffin paying our respects to him as he 'slept' she shed tears remembering Willie and what he meant to her. I said he taught you how to drive, I remember, he was there for you, as I hugged her. She cried and said if it wasn't for him she wouldn't know how to drive and he helped her in so many ways. This is the quality of Willie and how he touched many lives.

The children decided to cremate Willie. Sometimes a loved one is held in a well-made, well designed Urn, yet some of the ashes are put into special items, such as a locket, and given to those he was closest with. Perhaps the children will do something similar, it may mean a lot to them. I can imagine Willie, Jr holding onto a special item with some of Willie's ashes in it, the way he stood over Willie's body in the coffin, holding his hand throughout the wake and ceremony not wanting to let go, but after a time must. Maybe in such a way he can hold onto Willie again. I hope all Willie's loved ones find peace and instead of the overwhelming grief of losing Willie, they smile throughout their lives in fond happy memories of Willie.

I wanted to share just a ‘brief’ telling about the respectful and dignified ceremony Willie's loved ones gave him for a final farewell.

It says a lot when all close relatives and long-time friends made time for Willie's funeral, all his living siblings, all his nephews and nieces, all his children and grandchildren (except a brand new baby just a few weeks old), long-time (including childhood) friends, his co-workers (he was a retired teacher), most likely former students. I did not know most of the people at the funeral and yet I knew and met all his siblings and most of their children, and of course all of Willie's children. Willie has now gone home to spend time with his parents and siblings who passed before him.

My sister's family also supported her and the children, for example our Mom, cousins, family friends, and other relatives came to pay their respects and be there for the children and my sis, they also met Willie from time to time at family gatherings when my sis and Willie were married for over twenty years. Those who could not make it, because many family live in different states and overseas, sent well wishes, and some, for example our Father and Stepmother, also gave to the GoFundMe. Many loved ones, including total strangers contributed in helping to give Willie a wonderful respectful going home service and memorial.

For the GoFundMe I asked my nephew KP if I could share the GoFundMe link on my social sites, he said yes. I noticed thousands of views for the posts and over one hundred reposts and comments (mostly via Twitter / X posts), some also asked for a Cashapp so I shared my nephew KP's Cashapp. I don’t know if the views translated to anyone giving, but I heard there were a good amount of anonymous donations. For complete strangers to help in giving to Willie's funeral costs, I am grateful. This funeral retelling in story form is my way of saying "Thank You."

Below is a copy of some of the funeral program. My family is very private so this story and what I share is just a snippet while I continue to keep my family's privacy.

Live with peace in your heart. Be Blessed.

Loving vibrations pour out from me towards you.

With Love,

Pamelita

P.S. Continue to keep Willie's family especially his children in your prayers.

KP, Willie's stepson cooked for 100 people for the repass, he also set up the GoFundMe to help family in giving Willie a dignified and respectful funeral, please bless KP's Cash App: https://cash.app/$KyrelleLee This is the link to the GoFundMe: https://gofund.me/df18c9d8

Below are the Cash App to two more of Willie's children. Kyara who is a poet and artist, she was blessed with her Father's artistic talents. Instagram link to some of her artwork: https://www.instagram.com/kyara.psd Bless her Cash App: https://cash.app/$kyaraprincey

Kye who just started college for the first time. Kye was at college orientation when Kye heard about Willie's passing. Kye had to leave school before classes even began. Kye missed the first two weeks of university courses. Kye coordinated with school officials so they know what happened, of losing a Father and wanted to attend his funeral in another state. Yet now with deep grief and having to carry on, Kye must make up for lost time at school and catch up with school course work. Kye has an Amazon college registry, here is the link: https://www.amazon.com/registries/gl/guest-view/OK7NM6STUQW9 Bless Kye's Cash App: https://cash.app/$KGaymon6

If you are a follower of my social sites or read my posts from time to time, in the future I want to provide the Cash Appfor my Nephews and Nieces, most who are Willie's children, and mention what they are up to, they are talented gifted people, for example one of them knows how to build a computer from scratch. If you are so inclined, bless their Cash App. You will (in the future) find a collection of such posts on my Pinterest board called Stars. https://www.pinterest.com/LucidCreates/stars

Thank you for reading my post, for helping my loved ones, for helping to give Willie a respectful and dignified send off, for your thoughts, prayers, and well-wishes.

I am grateful and appreciate you.

I mentioned Kyrelle's name because his name was on the GoFundMe, and mentioned Kyara's and Kye's because they gave me permission to post their Cash App. In the future I will mention in other posts the names of other Nephews (I have mostly Nephews) and Nieces, once I get their permission to post.

Please note my post leans mostly towards my perspective according to being there for my sister, the children and Willie's family I knew of, I wanted to be there for them and pay my respects to Willie. I mentioned mostly my nieces and nephews because that is my main connection with Willie, and of course my sister, however my nephews and nieces, and my young cousin, Willie was their Father and Father figure.

Willie leaves behind sisters, children, grandchildren, nephews, nieces, cousins, friends, loved ones such as his ex-wife (my sister), and his eldest children's mother (mentioned here for respect, the woman he met years before he met my sister) who will keep his memory alive. I did not post that part of the program (list of family names) to keep most family private, some who are underage. With Respect.

Willie is watching over his children, he is at peace.

No matter what, the love remains, and the love is most important.

Willie's going home service and celebration was such a good honor, well done, a good send off.

A celebration of a well loved person.

Please excuse any spelling or grammar errors.

Please note, this is a temporary post that will be kept up for a month to two months or maybe a few months.

Snippets of the program for Willie's Going Home Service:

Order of Service

Officiant: Pastor (who was also a good friend of Willie's)

Processional: Clergy and Family

Hymn of Comfort: Precious Lord Take My Hand

Prayer of Comfort: 1 Corinthians 13: 1 - 7

Tributes: Siblings Nieces / Nephews Children

Cherished Memories: Open to All

Obituary

Musical Selection: "Going Home" Sam Cooke

Willie's Favorite Poem: "Phenomenal Woman" by Maya Angelou

Recessional

Previous posts I made regarding Willie's passing and to support the GoFundMe for his funeral costs (I posted on several social sites, but only including the Tumblr posts below because most of my posts regarding Willie's passing link back to the Tumblr posts):

Support Retired Teacher Willie’s Memorial & Funeral Costs. https://lucids.tumblr.com/post/759220619064786944/donate-to-support-willies-memorial-and-funeral

My Nephews and Nieces recently lost their Father. https://lucids.tumblr.com/post/759114035365085184/my-nephews-and-nieces-recently-lost-their

Support Willie’s Memorial and Funeral Costs: Retired Teacher, Artist, Loving Father and Grandfather. https://lucids.tumblr.com/post/759026321172168704/support-willies-memorial-and-funeral-costs

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dujour13 · 2 years ago

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For when you do have the time :) ♥ - family headcanon, ▼ - childhood headcanon, and ♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon for Siavesh? I'd like to learn a little more about his early life!

Thank you 💕 I got excited and this got long...

♥ - family headcanon

Ok ready? You got me started. So. He’s kindred-raised, meaning both parents are half-elves. His mom, Nilufar, is proudly Kelish which explains the Kelish names in the family, including the last name of Mirani. He’s the cute-as-heck spoiled youngest of four. His older sisters are Zarin, Fatima and Leila. Zarin is a single mom with a son named Kyrash who is 8 at the time of the start of the 5th crusade and obsessed with the idea that his uncle is a demon-fighting hero who rides a fire-breathing dragon. He is in for some disappointment.

Fati and her husband Talo have a 1-year-old daughter and another on the way as Siavash sets out with the ambassador for Mendev. Leila has no interest in settling down, a bit like her little brother.

His dad, Doran, is a lutenist in the prestigious Almas Municipal Orchestra, and Doran’s dearest dream was that one of his children would inherit his passion for music; alas, Siavash has the passion and talent, but not the patience to learn music theory. There’s a big disappointed-dad complex there.

As for the Mirani—Nilufar’s family tree has often sprouted magi going back a long way to the satrapy of Midea in Kelesh. There are rumors that there may be planetouched blood but no evidence other than a knack for the arcane. Nilufar herself is an arcanist, but more of the academic sort than a practiced caster. She’s a little more indulgent with Siavash than Doran in part thanks to his talent for magic.

BTW they are TOTALLY adopting Woljif. He will be fed and called “son” and teased by sisters to make up for all the lost years. This is one of my fondest headcanons. Fic has been written but that’s for another time.

▼ - childhood headcanon

He’s a bit of a boyscout. His school organized “mountain class” for two weeks in summer and two weeks in winter each year, where they stayed in a lodge and did a lot of fun stuff and learned survival and basic weapons. This was Siavash’s favorite part of school.

One year at winter camp when he was a young teenager, he and two friends got distracted body-surfing in the snow and were caught in a blizzard as night fell. Hiking was slow and dangerous, and pretty soon they realized they couldn’t make it back to the lodge. After some panicked flailing around they found a little stone shepherd’s hut. (Strange, thinking back Siavash is sure he knew that hut and that it was nowhere near where they’d gotten caught in the storm. Must have wandered off track? Desna’s luck? Or was someone looking out for him?)

Boyscouts notwithstanding they were unable to light a fire, so all they could do was bundle up together among the furs on the floor of the hut. They all thought they were GONNA DIE in that dramatic despairing teenage way, terrified to fall asleep because they thought they would never wake up. As boyscouts they also knew that the best way to keep each other warm would be skin contact, but both the friends were boys and he’d already come out long before and neither wanted to be even partially naked with him, so he thought he’d be the first to die and he cried.

And suddenly they awoke and realized that they had fallen asleep after all, and that the blizzard had passed and there was bright sunshine outside. Pretty soon they were plowing down the snowfields laughing like maniacs on the way back to the lodge.

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

His fingertips are calloused and have little permanent dents in them from playing guitar, which is his principal hobby. He also writes his own songs now and then, but they’re quite sappy so I won’t cite any here.

#thanks for the ask!!#sorry i rambled there #prolifeisnochoice #siavash

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alizjay · 10 months ago

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Today is the birthday of a very special person in my life…

She was born on Groundhog Day of 1930…I'm sure her parents were overjoyed to find out they were expecting in the middle of the glorious 1929. Her daddy was a successful businessman and her mom, well not much is known about her. This would be their first child. But before this precious baby even saw the light of day, the world ended…everything was lost. And little J was born into chaos instead of certainty.

Sometime during her first 10 years of life, her mama gave birth to 3 more girls…little girls, ugh…what a disappointment! Also during those first 10 years, her mom and dad got a divorce. This was before the days of child support or paternity tests and her 3 little sisters grew up not knowing who their father was. They were completely destitute for a while, living in an abandoned train car out in the middle of nowhere until her mama took her 4 daughters and made the trek back to her childhood home. It wasn't great but at least the girls were fed…until their Grandpa died. They were back to having nothing and mama knew what she had to do.

Prospective relatives showed up one by one to choose a little girl to adopt. The precious preteen J watched as one by one, the “prettier” little girls got chosen first. She was the first one born and the last one picked. A great aunt & uncle finally took her out to their farm. She worked hard to earn her keep and studied hard in school. She was given opportunities like piano lessons and being on the softball team. One time, she told me about what she remembered of December 7, 1941. A day that will live in infamy. The only Japanese American family in her small rural community suddenly “moved away.” When she got to college someday, and learned the truth, she cried and cried for days for the poor little boy in her class and his family that must've gone to an internment camp.

She thrived in high school and college but she thought she would never find a godly man at a university, so she enrolled in a bible college to achieve the classic M R S degree. Imagine how different her life may have been if she had not made that fateful decision. She would've been free and happy, the trauma of her life would not have been passed down as severely. She wanted to be a teacher but she soon caught the attention of a charming but awkward freshman named D. He asked her for help with his studies and she tutored him. Soon they were in love, got engaged, and had a wedding. Everything was just wonderful!

She spent the next few years being the ideal preacher's wife because she was determined to never be abandoned again!

Their first child was a little girl and soon after, they had a boy. Within a few years, it became obvious that this little girl was different. She did not outgrow the typical tantrums of toddlerhood. I don't know much about the little boy, other than he grew up hating his big sister. When their little boy was 3, she got pregnant again and had another little boy. This pregnancy was very hard on her and permanently damaged her back. Now she had an autistic daughter (undiagnosed at the time because it was the 60’s) and 2 sons, the youngest of which was a newborn. They had already moved several times and D was never at home because he was always out doing “the lord's work.” She had 2 young children and a baby who basically spent his entire early years in the playpen because her back hurt too much to pick him up once he was mobile enough to get into things.

And despite the struggle, she LOVED those babies fiercely. And despite her always-working husband, he managed to spend at least one evening at home long enough to get her pregnant one last time. Another little girl was born in 1963 and she was so beautiful and was loved so much by her mother whose back was now so damaged she began to walk a little hunched over. This little girl also spent a lot of time in the playpen with her brother and they were besties growing up.

4 kids (the oldest with special needs) being raised with the perfect balance of unconditional love from their mother and complete emotional neglect with strict consequences from their father. One by one, they left the nest and spread their wings. The oldest, always close because she would always need them…the 2nd, moved to California with his wife and 3 little boys to get away from his dad because he tried to make a move on his pretty daughter in law. The youngest boy was so desperate for his dad's love and approval that he became a preacher too…but he was determined to be a better dad than his dad. He “loved” his 2 sons so much and “loved his daughter too much,” if you catch what I'm saying. The youngest child became a passionate educator in the big city and avoided men for awhie. She soon realized her biological clock was ticking fast and thought she wouldn't have value without a family of her own so she settled down and getting married. She became a stepmom and a wife and within a few years had 2 kids close together.

J's family was now complete.

The rest is just a tragedy…what happens to the descendants of traumatized children?…Well, they traumatize their own children. When you have an autistic daughter who was constantly berated by her dad in front of her younger siblings…those younger siblings raise their own daughters to be afraid of any and every possible quirk to their personality. Any differences were physically abused out of them.

When a little boy gets raised in the playpen and watches his daddy (who's almost never home) lose his shit and disrespect women and openly flirt with women who are not his mom…he hits puberty and never learns about consent. He soon believes that he's now a man and doesn't know what to do with these body parts that are now out of control…so when he grows up to have a little girl of his own, he just can't control himself cause she's just too pretty and he does what he wants with her little body and spends the rest of her childhood manipulating her into being perfect for him so he'll be nice to her and stop yelling at her.

When a little girl gets raised in the playpen with her brother and watches her daddy (who's almost never home) lose his shit and disrespect women and openly flirt with women who are not her mom…she clings to her mother like she's a lifeboat and masters the art of pretending perfection to please her stupid daddy…she loves her babies like her own mama loved her, but it's not enough to keep them safe from the abusive and cult-like world of the small denomination she grew up in.

My precious grandma J passed away in 2012 at the age of 82, in the hospital ICU, surrounded by her 4 children that loved her so much…but not her husband because he had to leave for a while to go run errands.

#generational trauma #abuse survivor #childhood ptsd #trauma #child abuse #mental health #actually traumatized #emotional abuse #ptsd

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hell-heron · 2 years ago

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I posted 1,224 times in 2022

162 posts created (13%)

1,062 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@selkiewife

@alleyskywalker

@nosafeanchorage

@dwellordream

@laurellerual

I tagged 1,147 of my posts in 2022

Only 6% of my posts had no tags

#asoiaf - 495 posts

#op - 124 posts

#ironborn - 96 posts

#romeo and juliet - 50 posts

#kitties - 45 posts

#hotd - 30 posts

#theon greyjoy - 13 posts

#derry girls - 13 posts

#disney - 11 posts

#😭 - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#hilarious that luisa description tho... so isa is technically 'ideal in every way' but have i told you of how beautiful and smart and kind-

My Top Posts in 2022:

Day 4 - (some tea about) House Greyjoy and House Harlaw

There tends to be a misconception in the fandom that Theon was not allowed to have contact with his family during his time at Winterfell, but that's not actually true, he just didn't get letters very often and his mail might have been read, but presumably he was allowed to reply. However in this light it becomes VERY interesting to see what information he has and doesn't have about his family:

Gods, he has grown grim, Theon thought. "Will I find my sister and my lady mother at Pyke?"

Theon searched for his uncle Euron’s Silence. Of that lean and terrible red ship he saw no sign,

Theon did not need to be told that Black Wind was Asha's longship. He had not seen his sister in ten years, but that much he knew of her.

A memory prodded at Theon. In one of his rare curt letters, Lord Balon had written of his youngest brother going down in a storm, and turning holy when he washed up safe on shore. "Uncle Aeron?" he said doubtfully.

Maybe, you know, he's "in denial about everything about the Iron Islands" because they only fucking write him the news that makes the family look good

28 notes - Posted March 24, 2022

Day 26 - Parallels with Other Characters, also Names, Self-Actualization and Revenge, part 1 - Theon and Arianne

I want to say this started as an entirely different meta but I got distracted midway by the fact there are THREE characters besides Theon, actually, that seem to pass from being referred to in chapter titles by aliases to being referred by their name. Victarion in ADWD, Arianne and Barristan in TWOW. Obviously, GRRM might still have to pick chapter titles for TWOW, but given that the Forsaken, Mercy etc had their own titles, I think it works.

This strikes me bc Arianne and Victarion are characters with MASSIVE ACOK Theon energy in such a way that I think this says something about the way Theon's self actualization and finding his name again came to be.

Theon and Arianne occupy, alas, very similar spaces in the heart and spleen of the fandom as two ambitious very young adults who don't trascend past the inexperience and immaturity that could be expected even a little, in a series where half the major povs are extremely gifted children. Arianne's mistakes are obviously not as destructive as Theon's but there's a racist and sexist bias against her making it so they're pretty much equally hated. They're both extroverted and snarky and overtly sexual in a way that hides some pretty massive trust issues, struggling with rivarly towards a sibling they have very good reasons to feel is favored by their fathers over them despite being officially the heir, and they lash out against this in a very similar way

The queenmaker plot and the taking of Winterfell are similarly feverish, desperate, euphorically exciting-until-they're-not endeavors in which both Arianne and Theon endanger and hurt children they massively project on (the actual child murder on Theon's part nonwitstanding). Theon seeks to avenge his inner child reenacting his own hostage situation from a position of control, Arianne to heal her inner child realizing her fantasy of a disinherited daughter crowned over her younger brother. This is literally how she presents the plan to Arys:

“Will not? Cannot! Myrcella is more fit for rule …”

“A son comes before a daughter.”

“Why? What god has made it so? I am my father’s heir. Should I give up my rights to my brothers?”

At this point, needless to say, Arianne knows exactly nothing about Tommen to justify this. Obviously her fantasy is doomed even before her plan itself fails- Myrcella is younger than Arianne was when she found her father's letter and never had any desire for the Iron Throne, she doesn't quite comprehend the situation, her first reaction when she's called queen is fear that something happened to Tommen, where Arianne blindly embraces the idea Quentyn plotted against her. An absolutely unsatisfying projection vehicle, just as Bran, Rickon and Beth are for Theon - the Stark boys are helped escape, the whole household covering for them, when he tries to use Beth against her father as he was used, ser Rodrik begs to take him in her place. Theon's misery of being held hostage long term, completely alone and unsupported, only to realize his family had given up on him from the start remains his and his alone.

The motive also feels to me the same - grab for power that's actually a grab for agency lashing out at a situation of forced stasis they spent 10 years in, that's actually a desperate appeal for their fathers' love and trust. Theon's time in Winterfell is obviously horribly traumatic but it also represents a forced stasis, it's extremely damaging for him to have an illusion of physical freedom to do what he pleases vis-a-vis training, hunting, whoring etc. while actually he's prevented by adult responsibilities even as his fifteen year old foster brothers lead armies. The attainment of manhood on the Iron Islands for noble boys seems to coincide with becoming a captain. Theon is taken when he was just beginning to learn:

Ugly as it was, that smile brought back a hundred memories. Theon had seen it often as a boy, when he’d jumped a horse over a mossy wall, or flung an axe and split a target square. He’d seen it when he blocked a blow from Dagmer’s sword, when he put an arrow through a seagull on the wing, when he took the tiller in hand and guided a longship safely through a snarl of foaming rocks.

then never sets foot on a boat again for the next ten years and seemingly is put to train on equal footing with Robb and Jon who are four years younger. The fandom generally assumes Ned's plan for Theon is to wait until Balon dies to then have Theon as a lord friendly to the mainland interests: this makes perfect sense but we never know about it. We never find anything about what future Theon expects, he's not betrothed, obviously we find out when he returns that Balon is actively praying for him to die rather than awaiting the return of his heir for him to finally have a true place etc. but Theon has no way to know the situation at home either because he's only getting letters about the good news. Theon is pretty adaptable - he has some characteristics that make him slightly weird in the islands (preferrence for riding, fancy bitch taste, not used to the different power dynamics, uninterested in religion) and in the North (some romanticization of the Old Way, dark humor) but he does decently in both until he explodes in Winterfell, he's at ease in the Riverlands in the Blackfish' forces, he considers the Night's Watch as an option where he might be decently happy etc. The problem is he's never allowed to hope or prepare for any future, the war of the Five Kings is literally the first time he has any direction in life.

As for Arianne:

The freedom that Prince Oberyn allowed his bastard daughters had never been shared by Prince Doran’s lawful heir. Arianne must wed; she had accepted that. Drey had wanted her, she knew; so had his brother Deziel, the Knight of Lemonwood. Daemon Sand had gone so far as to ask for her hand. Daemon was bastard-born, however, and Prince Doran did not mean for her to wed a Dornishman. Arianne had accepted that as well. One year King Robert’s brother came to visit and she did her best to seduce him, but she was half a girl and Lord Renly seemed more bemused than inflamed by her overtures. Later, when Hoster Tully asked her to come to Riverrun and meet his heir, she lit candles to the Maid in thanks, but Prince Doran had declined the invitation. The princess might even have considered Willas Tyrell, crippled leg and all, but her father refused to send her to Highgarden to meet him. She tried to go despite him, with Tyene’s help... but Prince Oberyn caught them at Vaith and brought them back. That same year, Prince Doran tried to betroth her to Ben Beesbury, a minor lordling who was eighty if he was a day, and as blind as he was toothless.

What we get here is: Arianne has arguably more freedom than any young lady of her rank in the rest of Westeros, but she doesn't perceive it as freedom because while she can make more independent choices for the present about sex, friendships with people of all social ranks, parties etc, the future is both outside her agency AND unknown to her, which are both factors to her dissatisfaction with it. We know Doran means for Arianne to be Viserys' queen consort, Arianne only knows he doesn't mean for her to be princess of Dorne, but she deduces that he must want her to be someone's consort, and she doesn't outright reject this. She courts several heirs, not second sons of rich families willing to back her claim up to expand their influence in Dorne or something. She's willing to work with her father's plan and have her future partially dictated as long as she knows enough to make the best of it. Arianne is a huge people's person, very charming and able to manipulate, does well in her role "in charge of feasts and frolics" etc. and we have absolutely no reason to think she'd be either incapable or miserable as a consort. So the problem here is that Doran, through ridiculous matches he knows she won't accept, is essentially forcing her into a suspended childhood where she can neither plan for a future as princess of Dorne nor for one as consort. And she must lash out against it to have any feeling of agency in her life.

So she does, like Theon, recklessly and daringly and with an initial success that speaks of her cunning and boldness, like Theon, she claims a vengeful motivation towards external forces when really it's to vindicate her place within her own family she wants, like Theon

Asha shook her head. “How could you be such a bloody fool? Children . . .” “They defied me!” he shouted in her face. “And it was blood for blood besides, two sons of Eddard Stark to pay for Rodrik and Maron.” The words tumbled out heedlessly, but Theon knew at once that his father would approve. “I’ve laid my brothers’ ghosts to rest.”

“And what is it I want, ser?”

“The Sand Snakes freed. Vengeance for Oberyn and Elia. Do I know the song? You want a little taste of lion blood.” That, and my birthright. I want Sunspear, and my father’s seat. I want Dorne. “I want justice.”

She fails miserably, like Theon, but how does it end?

On the morning that she left the Water Gardens, her father rose from his chair to kiss her on both cheeks. "The fate of Dorne goes with you, daughter," he said, as he pressed the parchment into her hand. "Go swiftly, go safely, be my eyes and ears and voice... but most of all, take care."

"I will, Father." She did not shed a tear. Arianne Martell was a princess of Dorne, and Dornishmen did not waste water lightly. It was a near thing, though. It was not her father's kisses nor his hoarse words that made her eyes glisten, but the effort that brought him to his feet, his legs trembling under him, his joints swollen and inflamed with gout. Standing was an act of love. Standing was an act of faith.

He believes in me. I will not fail him.

Doran and Arianne's dialogue in The Princess in the Tower is one of the highlights of AFFC for me, it's so heartbreaking. Arianne is able to confront her father about the baggage of the last ten years, which Theon does in the show but not truly in the books. While Doran is understandably disappointed and upset with her, they are able to come to a reconciliation, he slowly comes to admit he wronged her, he admits to her his most fallible, uncautious human feelings, his "heart's desire". He breaks down thinking nostalgically of Arianne as a little girl. More in ADWD: he sees her loyal nature and good intentions in the bad choices she made and defends her:

Obara laughed. “Aye, our sweet Arianne has seen to that.”

The princess flushed, and Hotah saw a spasm of anger pass across her father’s face. “What she did, she did as much for you as for herself. I would not be so quick to mock.”

He even enacts the #1 Theon love language of laughing at her bad jokes :(

The little princess smiled. “Three Oberyns, with teats.”

Prince Doran laughed. It had been so long since Hotah last heard him laugh, he had almost forgotten what it sounded like

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33 notes - Posted March 26, 2022

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33 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

and taken him from his home

day 3 - hostage identity and childhood

35 notes - Posted March 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Prince Bolkonsky is honestly such a funny antagonist in how hard it is to explain how his assholery manifests... Like "in his scene of most heinous and abusive behavior this despicable man expresses the belief women can learn maths too and should choose their husbands independently" "the callous bitch really ruins everyone's life with his stance that his 30 year old son shouldn't marry a teenage girl"

128 notes - Posted February 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#op #long post #god this was a SERIOUS flop year wasn't it ghjk

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pinksirensong · 2 years ago

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THE ADDAMS FAMILY (II)

The inside of the Addams residence was truly a scenery of a horror movie, if Matthew was there, he would certainly made jokes about murder and would be definitely afraid when she wouldn’t deny it. Morpheus always thought Y/N would make a wonderful queen for the Dreaming and him, but right now he was surer of it than ever, especially at being the Queen of Nightmares.

- Our house is as old as the Addams family itself, it passed to generation after generation. It belongs now to my uncle Festus and my father, Gomez. We all live here together, well I don’t anymore but the rest do. Now aside them there are also my mother, Morticia, my siblings Wednesday, Pugsley and Pubert, grandmama, Lurch and… - a hand came running down the hall and threw itself at her legs. Y/N stooped to its height. – Thing, oh I am deeply sorry for taking so long. We have a new guest for the wedding, please do inform Lurch of it, we do not want another incident like the last one. – after endless years nothing should surprise him anymore and yet seeing his beloved talking to a very alive hand was strange to Morpheus, especially because both appeared to understand each other well. – Yes, he is indeed very handsome, and I would like to keep him this way, so if you could please check if Wednesday took my crossbow, it would be very much appreciated. – after he responded to her, something that only she could understand, Thing went upstairs.

- What is that thing? – Dream asked her while looking at where it went.

- That’s Thing, he’s also family. – after seeing his face, she grinned. – For someone who’s lived an endless life you surely look surprised.

- It looked like it was talking to you.

- Thing was talking to me, we all understand him. Is his language too difficult for you? Also, please, do not call Thing “it”, we actually have a cousin named Itt and it would be very confusing. – reaching the backyard, he noticed that the outside wasn’t different from the inside. – There they are, come with me, my dream. – Y/N pulled him by the arm towards her parents.

- Y/N, dear, we were looking for you. The wedding is about to start, and your uncle would be very upset if you weren’t here. – her mother said and then looked at the man at her daughter’s side. – And who might that be?

- This is Morpheus.

- Oh, the Morpheus. I see.

- I brag about you every chance I got. It is not every day you found someone who’s equally devoted to their beloved as you, my dream. – Y/N said after realizing he was surprised that she talked about him to them, Morpheus expected them to know only of his existence and nothing more.

- Our daughter has high standards, so if she is allowing you to meet us it is because you are special. – Gomez said, most fathers would be jealous of their daughter dating someone, but he just wanted his little nightmare to be happy.

- You both set the bar too far, I would not accept nothing less than what I saw you two have my whole life. – no matter how odd they were, no one could say that Morticia and Gomez weren’t deeply in love. Y/N poked Morpheus side to bring his attention to her, motioning to the bouquet of stems still at his hand.

- These are for you, Miss Addams.

- Oh, how thoughtful of you. – one of the thorns pricked her finger, but the only person slightly worried about it was Dream. – Please, call me Morticia. We are family, after all. – excusing herself to put the bouquet at some vase she left being followed right behind by her husband.

- Now you’ve already met my parents and Thing. Oh, there is Lurch, he seems busy so we can talk later. – he saw her wave at someone, or something, that looked like the Frankenstein monster. – Let’s search for Wednesday, she’s probably with Pugsley trying to get rid of Pubert.

- Is that not your youngest brother?

- Yes, there was this old tradition, or so grandmama say, that when a new child comes to the family, they must get rid of one of the oldest. When Wednesday was born, I left her at the doghouse for a full day…and the funniest part is that we never had a dog. Mother talked to me, of course, and made me see reason. She will probably do the same with them.

- You are a very peculiar family. – he closed the little space between them and putted his arms around her. – Against all odds that only makes me love you more. I must admit that I was nervous about meeting your family and Matthew although with good intentions did not help with it.

- I, too, was nervous about the day you would meet them. As I told you before, you are the first that I bring home and even knowing they would love you as I do, it still got me nervous. We are indeed a peculiar family, and most people don’t like us. – Y/N remember all the times other kids would be mean to her but being the way she is since forever it didn’t matter, and she never cared for them, but she knew that it wasn’t that easy for Pugsley. Y/N and Wednesday were tough and too cold to care about what others thought of them, but they would defend their family until the end and no matter the means to the end. – It is important for me that they like you.

- It is a relief that they do not dislike me then.

- Oh, my dream, let’s not celebrate before you meet my sister. Now she will be hard to impress, Wednesday's at that very special age when a girl has only one thing on her mind.

- Boys? – the question didn’t come from Morpheus, but an unknow woman to her that didn’t seem to fit at the place, probably some outsider.

- Homicide. - Y/N smiled wickedly at the stranger before she left. – Let’s sit down, the ceremony is about to start. – and indeed, it did. It was like the bride couldn’t wait to get out of there, and while her parents told her that Debby absolutely loved the family, especially her uncle Festus, she couldn’t help but think that something was wrong. She was too perfect, she came at the exactly right time and always knew what to say. Festus was an Addams, but much like her father he was very naïve about other people. Debby was lucky and got her wish, but only because of Wednesday. Just like Y/N, her sister knew something was wrong and was determined to prove it but could only do so if they remained there. Wednesday Addams gladly stole her sister’s crossbow with the intention of only hurting the bride a little bit…or at least make it look like it and after extracting the information she needed then Debby could rot in any way she deemed better, and no one would know it. She had a good plan and a lot of determination, but unfortunately her aim wasn’t at her side and instead of Debby it hit Y/N’s thigh. In a second Dream’s arms were around Y/N’s body making sure she wouldn’t pass out because of the blood loss, the bride was a mix of furious knowing it was meant for her and happy to use this as an excuse to leave that family and never come back. No one looked shocked at the situation.

- Oh, Wednesday. – Y/N turned to face her sister with a very disapproving look. – How many times shall I tell you to not fire the crossbow inside the house?

tag list: @asexualaromosafezone @jesllianaquilesrolon @andieperrie18 @pearlstiare

#morpheus x reader #morpheus x oc #the sandman #dream of the endless #the addams family

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astra-stellaris-a · 3 years ago

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@samuraiisms // -----------------

Sometimes Atria wondered what she was doing with the elaborate plans she had, the ambition, the drive, but mostly it was just a frustration to be turned away at every front due to things outside of her control. Things outside of the clan didn’t work the same as internal matters. There, power ruled all.

It started when her grandmother died when she was fifteen. The Kurokawa fell into her hands and they flourished under her guidance, amassing money and reputation quickly, regardless of the situation with her uncles several years prior. She fell into a rhythm, running the clan, okaying things, making sure they were doing well while dealing with the Stellaris.

And the two were day and night. Kurokawa were generally emotional, moreso than the average person and the Stellaris--well, they weren’t. Getting a reaction out of them was like trying to get blood out of a turnip.

And then, her father died short of her twenty-fourth birthday. It had taken nearly six months to go through his things, to grieve, even though she still felt the pang of loss every time she saw lavender, every time she saw the moon and stars. It was an ever-present ache that would get better with time. However, she found something--marriage contracts.

Some were from wind, some from fire, from every single land--daimyo’s youngest sons, vying for her hand in marriage. The stipulations, that she would have to carry a child within the first year, that she would be nothing but an incubator, made her hair spark. The first scroll she’d read burst into flame. The second had been thrown through a window--and the third? Well, it’s scorched remains made good kindling for the kitchen stove.

The only saving grace was her father’s records, the copies of the letters he’d sent denying them in no uncertain terms. There were two, that were passable. One, from the land of iron, and the other, from the land of water. Her family would be forced into a shinobi’s life with the land of water, the scroll read. Atria wasn’t ready for that, their family wasn’t ready for that.

And so, she penned the land of iron in her signature green ink, her calligraphy flowing like a heavy rain down the page.

Her stipulations were simple:

none of her family were to become shinobi

she would not have to contractually bear an heir

station would not matter in choice

the person must be dedicated, ambitious and driven

they must truly care for their people

she must be able to pass down her family’s techniques

They were bullet-pointed, quick, to the point, with no flowery words or text to contradict her harshness.

_________________________________

She’d turned twenty-five before everything panned out, and at the beginning of spring, they were to move, to meet her soon-to-be husband. Her letters were brisk, heavy and uncompromising, which was in contrast with her quiet, reserved, kind nature. As a female of that age, she had to be that way. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have made it as far as she did.

The day to meet him arrived. She dressed in not her finest clothes, but not the ones she would wear at home when there was nothing to do. Her hair was left down, it’s inky black length calling of the river that was her grandmother’s last name. And her swords were at her hip, the hilt shining as if they were just made. She had selected her younger brother, three years her junior, and her cousin and protector, Sayuri to accompany her. They would stay out of the way and provide a discerning eye.

She was anxious.

For such a short person, she was an imposing figure. Her beauty would have been coveted and hidden behind walls with other people, just for royalty. But she didn’t want that--she wanted to live, she wanted a life that would allow her to be her. Her beauty was in her vibrancy, her drive, her kindness, and she would die before she allowed it to wither away as someone’s prized possession.

Her eyes lit against his own and she inclined her head. “My soon-to-be husband. Tell me of your people. And tell me of yourself, your ambitions. Tell me everything.” Her head tilted up, her gaze molten steel. “If you are honest, just and ambitious, I will be your partner.”

Not just a wife. An equal.

#samuraiisms #❛of one mind we unite to write a code❜―「rp」#//i should probably make a tag for this samurai au #//also as usual you do not have to match length #//my multipara heart go brrr

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purrincesskittens · 3 years ago

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Star Eyes, Zuko is mistaken as Water Tribe.

Gift for @muffinlance based off this post and this one

......................................................................

It was night when they found him. A quick examination showed blood on the back of his head. As they pounded on his back someone noted his eyes. “Gold eyes.” They called. “Are you fire nation?” The boy lifted his head and the light of the lantern caught his eyes reflecting back at them. “Of course I am.” The kid snarls. “Star Eyes.” Someone breathed. Shit this kid was one of theirs. “Could be the child of a war bride.” Was suggested by someone. “At least he’s not a fire bender.” There was a laugh that was quickly interrupted by the star eyed boy himself. “Yes I am.” “Well that was.... honest.”

Star eyes were only something seen in the water tribes though. Even if this kid was a fire bender he had to be water tribe. More then likely the result of a woman stolen from her tribe during a raid and raised as Fire Nation since he looked enough of the part. But he was young, probably just recruited or practically forced into joining the military. There was a easy way to figure out how dangerous this kid was or rather how much more dangerous he was considering he was a fire bender.

“Have you ever killed someone?” Hakoda asks crouching before the boy lifting his chin in one hand so the boy had to look him in the eye with those gold colored star eyes. “What? No ... I don’t think.... No.” The kid seemed confused the blood on the back of his head suggested a head wound but this kid was young probably just assigned to a ship only to get knocked overboard by either by a storm or by another soldier. Those eyes probably didn’t make him popular or the fact that this kid’s eyes kept sliding away from Hakoda’s own suggested he may be a fey child.

“What do we do with him?” Somebody asks as they watch the kid cough up water, curling and uncurling his fingers against the wood of the deck his eyes cast down. “We keep him for now. His mother is probably Water Tribe war bride if he is star eyed. Have Kustaa check him over and if he survives we figure out what to do from there." Hakoda announces to the crew. They took care of their own and until they figured out who his mother was and could turn him over to her family if she had any left the crew of the Akhult would take care of him for now. Half Water Tribe and the child of a war bride was still Water Tribe and like hell were they going to turn him over to the Fire Nation to continue using as a weapon.

Kustaa later informed him the boy had hypothermia as well as potentially severe head trauma it was hard to tell right now. The kid mistook him for his uncle. Which uncle they weren't sure. It's possible the boy's mother had a picture of her family she either managed to take with her or she drew herself or he could be thinking Kustaa was his father's brother. The escape attempts didn't help some of the crews opinions on keeping the kid but considering he was raised as Fire Nation and was in a strange place so its expected that he would try to escape although climbing the mast was something Hakoda really wished he didn't do along with scaling the side of the ship.

Kustaa had mentioned the boy called for his mother while delirious along with begging his father for forgiveness pledging his loyalty to him and pleading no to the man which didn't paint a pretty picture of the man or gain much favor of the fire nation in the crews opinions. "Tell me about your mother." Hakoda suggests sitting up on the mast beside the boy. Glowing gold eyes blinked at him. "I remember trailing robes. She favored long sleeved robes with delicate embroidery. She had long hair I remember her brushing mine when I was little. I would sit in her lap and she would brush my hair talking to me about theater or turtleducks or plants. Different things she liked. I think I would sometimes tell her about my day or what I had done recently I don't remember clearly its... faded almost. Fuzzy. I barely remember what she looked like."

Hakoda frowned the boy was water tribe he had to be with those star eyes of his but why wouldn't his mother tell him about her people, her home. Maybe she couldn't? Maybe the boys father was so controlling he made sure she never spoke of home to their son? Then the boy said something that made him rethink everything he knew about the kid. "Uncle said my hair is alot like hers. Or it was. I don't even remember why I shaved it." The kid frowned obviously struggling to remember rubbing his head with one hand. The head wound had left him confused he didn't rember his name or much of anything recent but he remembered he had been burned for cowardice supposedly or partially for that but what did the fire nation consider to be cowardly? Kustaa suspected the boy's own father burned him based off what they gleaned from fever dreams and night terrors.

“What did she look like?” Hakoda questions softly holding his breath hoping he was wrong with the hunch he had. “Elegant, beautiful, she had long straight black hair that was so soft and amber eyes with flecks of true gold in them she wore long sleeved red robes with elegant embroidery. The sleeves would bellow and she would hide me in them when I was little.” The boy continued to talk about his mother someone he remembered fondly although all the details suggested the hugs, the turtle duck kisses and every else stopped when the boy was small. Something happened to his mother and Hakoda was beginning to suspect it may have something to do with the boys true parentage. But how to suggest it to the kid without breaking the poor things mind? The whole crew already suspected he was spirit touched as the water tribe liked to call those who were different mentally the earth kingdom called them fey and not all of the earth kingdom where kind to them.

“If I promise no one on this ship will hurt you and we won’t turn you over to the Earth Kingdom will you stop with the escape attempts?”Hakoda asks when the boy falls silent picking at the grain of the wood under his hands not meeting Hakoda’s eyes. The kid blinked up at him startled. “Okay.” Getting the kid down the mast was surprisingly easy after that and a few more rules were hashed out before the kid was sent to see Kustaa again and the crew was gathered. “The boy’s mother was fire nation. He remembers her more clearly then anything else.” This drew murmurs from the crew some wanted to toss him over board then since he wasn’t the child of a war bride. “But he’s star eyed he has to be Water Tribe.” Toklo says tilting his head in confusion. “Exactly. We know he seemed to have issues regarding his father and Kustaa suspects he may have been the one to burn the kid. I learned his mother also disappeared or may possibly have been killed when he was young.” This gained more murmurs from the crew.

Panuk pulled in a sharp audible breath. He had figured out what Hakoda was getting at. “Does any one here know where they were about 16 to 17 years ago? If they were around the Earth Kingdom or the colonies anywhere?” Their chief had to ask if none of the men on this ship was the boys father he would have to send messages out to all the others in the fleet see if anyone remembered if maybe had met a pretty woman in the Earth Kingdom or in the colonies and spent a night with her. If the kids mother was Fire Nation and he was star eyed that meant his real father had to be Water Tribe. His mother had to have married or started a new relationship soon after and the boy looked fire nation enough to pass him off as her husband’s but the husband probably suspected what with the star eyes. There was silence followed by an uproar. “You can’t be serious?!” Aake shouted in outrage. “I’m not judging anyone but the boy is water tribe and with his mother gone we most definitely are not giving him back to the Fire Nation so we need to figure out whose he is. We take care of our own.” Hakoda soothed the crews ruffled feathers listening as the men scrambled to remember where they were and what they were doing all those years ago.

Slowly they managed to clear the majority of the crew those who couldn’t remember were left struggling valiantly to justify why they couldn’t possibly be the boys father while their youngest two crew members watched with glee obviously in the clear themselves due to their age. Once Kustaa cleared the boy Hakoda set him to work and had to add no breathing fire to the list of rules. Toklo and Panuk made friends with their newest crew member over laundry and the boy was very shouty about women’s work. And then the issue over the kid not having a name he remembered came up. Names like Siqinq, Kallik, Cupun, Tulok, Yuka and Tulugaq were tossed around. He is pretty sure they settled on Tulok simply because they already have a Tuluk and Toklo on board and that name is almost a combination of the two plus it had a star meaning behind it. The boy just wanted to fit in.

Reds were changed for Toklo’s blues and the boys hair shaved to regrow properly after Kustaa managed to break it to the kid that a real father wouldn’t abuse his son, biological or not. They picked up Bato who sympathized with them for wanting to keep the star eyed child, teach him his real culture, and find his real father but the kid was still a fire bender. A fire bender on a WOODEN SHIP!! The boy, Toluk looked like a kicked polar puppy being denied sleep in the hammock he was used to and his usual snacks when ever he wanted. They still had a lot of work cut out for them when the kid thought he would be killed over a bending accident because he didn’t fully remember he needed to mediate to control his fire. His memories were still patchy at best. So Hakoda ended up with his temporary foster star eyed child sitting in his cabin breathing with a lantern holding a dog.

The kid liked sea prunes proving he was Water Tribe at heart. He was good at using his fire bending for non evil purposes even if he protested it. He proved he shouldn’t be left alone in port either by himself or with his friends. He gained a piercing, two rusted swords, a theater scroll and a cabbage? No one seems to know about the cabbage. He can cook as it’s proven despite how spicy his cooking is and nearly gets kidnapped by prostitutes. Sex workers were not on the list of people Hakoda thought he would have to fight for custody of Tulok with. He nearly gets himself kidnapped by a Earth Kingdom solider they are allied with who seemed sure their boy was then dead prince of the Fire Nation. Never mind that the prince was dead and their boy was star eyed. The solider was surprisingly unfazed by the heat of the kids cooking. He didn't end up kidnapped despite his best efforts.. The kid really needed to stop climbing the mast. “Prince Zuko?!” Hakoda’s kids seemed to also mistake Tulok for the dead prince.

“That’s the Prince of the Fire Nation, dad he chased us all over and tried to capture the avatar numerous times. His sister did capture Aang.” His kids argued trying to convince him that their new foster brother was some evil prince. The kid in question for his part had more headaches then usual and just seemed more confused and angry. He remembered something. A little sister named LaLa. It takes a while but after watching their new brother and listening to the crew, “His name is Zuko, he is the prince of the Fire Nation, his father is Fire Lord Ozai does no one care about that?!” Sokka asks in outrage staring as the kid in question does laundry like its a perfectly normal thing for a prince to do. “His mother may be fire nation but his father sure isn’t.” Panuk comments dodging a wet shirt thrown by their resident fire bender. This earned laughter and calls of “Good for her!!” And “She could do a lot better!” Followed by “At least a water tribesman would treat her right!!”. Sokka groaned in frustration and confusion.

“Why is my nephew wearing blue, convinced Ozai isn’t his biological father and that he is water tribe?” General Iroh the Dragon of the West questions calmly. Tulok seemed to recognize Iroh and even called him Uncle and recognized some of the crew but he still didn’t have complete clear memories although his headaches grew worse until Kustaa told him it didn’t matter if he remembered or not he was water tribe and nothing was going to change that spirit touched or not. “He is star eyed you can’t possibly tell me the fire nation has star eyed kids that’s a water tribe thing only.” Iroh considered it briefly before dismissing it. His nephew looked similar to a young Ozai, so Ozai had to be his father even if he wasn’t much of one and his nephew deserved better then Ozai. But surely Ursa couldn’t have had an affair while married to Ozai it was impossible. Iroh tried to do the math off the top of his head of when Ursa and Ozai married vs when Zuko was born. “Look the obvious answer here is that the boys mom met with a Water Tribe beefcake and had a one night stand that lead to the boy. It’s the only thing that explains why his supposed father hated him so much and why he struggled with fire bending and is star eyed.” Bato explains grinning. “Beefcake?” Hakoda and Iroh question.

Azula finds this all far to amusing. “That just means I’m the rightful heir after all. You can stay here with your little water tribe family and I can be the next Fire Lord after Uncle.” Somehow things get worked out that their star eyed fire bender’s fire nation sister will be staying with them along side her two scary friends and the kids supposed Uncle will become the next Fire Lord once they take down Ozai. The kid is still confused and there are still gaps in his memories but they aren’t giving him back now he is their’s and the fire nation can’t have him. They still call him Tulok since the fire nation does consider the sun to be a star after all. He seems to like it better then Zuko. He still does their laundry still wears beads in his braids in red, blue and one gold. In all that’s happened no one thought to alert the rest of the fleet about what they learned leaving them in for one heck of a surprise when they reach Chameleon Bay where the rest of the men from the fleet scramble to try to remember where they were sixteen-point-nine years ago.

#water tribe zuko #star eyed zuko #zuko Is mistaken as water tribe #glowy eyed zuko #zuko’s eyes glow #gift for Muffinlance #salvage au #inspired by salvage #hakodad #hakoda adopts zuko #atla fanfic #atla zuko #atla hakoda #sokka is not okay with this #put the feral fire bender back where you found him #the akhuklt’s crew is okay with zuko being one of them #like okay if his mom isn’t a war bride then his mom hooked up with a water tribesman #which good for her at least a water tribesman would treat her properly #Iroh protests this #He is 90 percent sure Zuko is actually Ozai’s son #not that that’s is a good thing #he can’t be sure though #atla #Avatar The Last Airbender #Give Zuko happiness #ursa could do better then ozai #hey uh no judgement whatsoever to whichever water tribesman is the kids father but uhh come pick up your lost cub #Bato calls other warriors beefcakes #which watertribesman lost their cub they didn't know they had #everyone struggles to remember who they were with and where they were 16 years and nine months ago

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cursestothemoon · 3 years ago

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A Cruel Favor

Regulus Black x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Request: Could I get and angsty and sad blurb with Regulus? Nothing specific in mind, Regulus’ entire life is pretty tragic already- just throwing some strained and kind of heartbreaking romance into that mix sorry i like pain this is how i cope

Summary: Your relationship with the youngest Black brother in the form of memories seen in a pensieve by Sirius Black.

Warnings: Death, sadness, crying, the dark mark, ghosts

Word Count: 3265

Author's Note: babe you asked for a blurb and i just did not listen i am so sorry, if you'd still like a blurb let me know and i'll whip up a little short piece but regardless i hope you enjoy this 😌

“You didn’t know him! You didn’t want to know him!” Your voice bellowed, trembling with the burning anger you held in your heart for the eldest Black brother.

It was true, back when the war was just ‘politics’ and the ‘Dark Lord’ a name whispered behind closed doors, Sirius Black had already made up his mind about his family- Regulus included.

“He was my brother.” Sirius spoke the statement as if just the mere fact of relation was supposed to trump that he hadn't even spoken to his brother in the months prior to his death.

You let out a bitter laugh, “Don’t lie for the sake of saving face, you never saw him as a brother; not then and certainly not now.”

Sirius seemed taken aback by your accusation, his words getting lost on his tongue for a moment before he quickly regained his fiery passion for argument.

“He betrayed me.”

“You were the one who betrayed him!” Your accusatory finger pointed at Sirius.

The eldest Black brother’s features went stoney, “The moment he decided to get that mark, was the moment he lost his name as my brother.”

Everything in the mangey old house seemed to still, a silence falling so powerful you could hear a pin drop. Your slow footsteps were exaggerated in the quiet, each creak ringing in both yours and Sirius’ ears. With a tired hand, you pushed a small pouch onto the surface of the dining room table, the vials inside clinking together softly.

“They’re numbered.” You breathed out. “There is so much you don’t know, Sirius.”

You walked through the door and onto the street hastily, not wasting any time to apparate back home.

Sirius sat down in the nearest chair with a huff, his knees spread as his shoulders slid down the back of the chair. He hadn’t remembered just how far up his brother’s ass you were.

Roughly, he rubbed his face with his palms before lazily reaching for the dark velvet pouch on the table. The emerald green reminded him not only of his brother, but of his entire family, the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Sirius couldn’t help the groan that left his mouth at the memories of his family that seemed to plague his mind.

Fittingly, Sirius opened the pouch to reveal just that. The silvery, viscous tendrils that floated through each vial were immediately recognized by the pureblood. You had given him your memories...and a letter.

You deserve to know him.

Y/N L/N

Sirius’ curiosity regarding what secrets of his brother’s seemed to be swimming in the vials bubbled over, he was sure 12 Grimmauld Place was harbouring a pensieve somewhere within its walls, he’d just have to get up and find it.

17 October 1974

Barty Crouch Jr. was an insolent child, the type to collect bones and listen to them rattle. He had a nervous tick, his tongue slithering past his lips every so often in a manner that was so serpentine it made your skin prick.

“Come on then, L/N, be a good little girl and do as I say.”

You threw down your quill in frustration, “Bugger off, Crouch. I’ve said no.”

“Don't be like that,” Barty smirked, coming closer to where you were sitting. “It’s only some homework. You were going to do yours anyway, why not get some extra practice in by doing mine too?”

“I’d rather have unforgivables practiced on me than do anything you ask.”

His sickly sweet smile wasn’t one you were expecting, his voice low and threatening, “That can be arranged.”

Your blood ran cold as you watched his nimble fingers move toward his wand pocket in his robes. Truthfully, you should’ve known better. Being in the same house as Barty allowed you the luxury of hearing all the gossip surrounding him and his hobbies, dark magic and curses being at the top of that list.

“Barty.”

The cold baritone made the sandy-haired menace stop in his tracks, his face contorting into an expression of mild annoyance and frustration.

“There’s no need for you to be acting like a child. Quite humiliating asking someone else to do your work, isn’t it, Crouch? Are you too thick to get it done yourself?”

Barty turned to look at his friend, words jumbling as he tried to figure out how to get himself out of the hole he had dug.

“Reg-” The stone-like stare had Barty cowering and mouth snapping shut, the boy seemingly trying to fold in on himself.

With a simple nod of his head, Regulus directed the him to make himself useful elsewhere, but you were far too taken by the handsome boy in front of you to notice the stomping footsteps of Barty’s as he left. Of course you had known of Regulus Black, seen him from afar and even once had Transfiguration with him, but seeing him up close was an experience in and of itself. His skin was ghostly pale, hair dark and wavy as it fell just below his ears, and his cheekbones were high accentuating the slant of his nose. Regulus Black was beautiful, everything about him seemed to be placed just right and sculpted with the utmost care and attention.

He turned to you, your eyes meeting before he gave you an appraising look.

“Regulus.” His hand struck out, a rather rugged introduction.

Slowly, you took his hand in yours and proceeded to shake it. You couldn’t seem to rid yourself of the feeling that your hand was far too dirty, far too boring to be touching his, to even be near his.

“Y/n L/n, thank you- for that.” You were proud of yourself for not allowing your voice to shake.

“I’m sorry he was a bother.”

Regulus seemed to lack the ability of holding a conversation, he nodded- you assumed a goodbye- and got ready to make his way to the dorms.

“Wait,” Your voice came out before you could stop it. “You could stay, I’m almost done anyway. We could...talk.”

The suggestion had the boy's ears turning pink, his words coming out stuttered and jumbled, a stark contrast from the boy who had told off Barty so eloquently.

“If you- alright.”

You thought for a moment before speaking again, “You’re not very good at talking to people are you?”

“Excuse my blatant honesty, but you make me quite nervous.”

It was your turn to have your ears turn a soft hue of red, “I could say the same about you.”

5 April 1975

“Haven’t you got your own side of the blanket? Must you be so close to me?” You giggled, trying to roll away from Regulus while still avoiding the grass.

Regulus smiled, his eyes closing and nose scrunching in thought before he spoke, “I prefer to be close to you; making sure you won’t run out on me.”

Both of you began giggling, his head falling to nudge your shoulder. Ultimately, Regulus shuffled away from your side, allowing just about a foot of space in between your bodies. The wind rustled your hair as you turned your neck to look at the youngest Black as he sat up, his legs stretched and crossed at the ankles, arms propping himself up as his palms pressed flat against the floor.

It was no secret that Regulus was beautiful. His dark hair- now gently flowing in the cool breeze- stood out against his pale skin, freckles were dusted delicately over his aristocratic nose and sharp cheekbones. You could tell he’d never worked a day in his life with how handsome and soft his hands were. His fingers were long and slender, never dry or rough, and his nails perfectly trimmed and always clean.

Regulus Black was absolutely perfect and you were regretting ever complaining about his proximity.

You were quick to right your wrong, bashfully you raised yourself onto all fours and crawled over to your boyfriend. Regulus tried to hold in his smirk, avoiding turning to look at you directly but you could tell his resolve was breaking.

“Regulus…” You spoke his name with an innocent lilt, sitting back on your shins once you were close enough to have your knees touching his thigh.

He hummed, not giving you the satisfaction of having his full attention.

A huff of frustration fell past your lips at his stubbornness as you threw your leg over his thighs, straddling his legs just above his knees. His composure was thinning, a wide smile threatening to spread across his thin lips.

“You’re far too close,” he teased, his hand coming up as if trying to stop you from getting any closer. “I believe you are on my side of the blanket, L/n.”

“Don’t be so fickle, Black.”

Regulus’ pale blue eyes found yours, his delicate hand coming up to run across the delicate collar of your dress.

“It’s in my nature isn’t it?” His eyes held a certain sadness that you could not place, one you wouldn’t see again until a few years later.

Your lips parted to respond to him, only to be interrupted by a Hogwarts ghost floating nearby. It was a ghost neither you nor Regulus were familiar with and as she passed she mumbled something- rather spitefully- about young love. The event had your train of thought derailed, a quiet giggle erupting from your throat as the transparent, deceased woman floated on.

Regulus seemed to find the woman just as amusing as you did, his eyes crinkling with laughter as you two now looked at each other in fits of hysterics.

“Oh her poor soul!” You exclaimed, eyes looking off in the direction she had gone. “If you were a ghost, Reg, where would you haunt with your undead presence.”

His expression contorted into one of reminiscence, “Uncle Alphard’s cherry orchard just a few kilometers from Monts de Venasque. When we were little, Sirius and I would play in the trees. I could sit in those cherry trees for hours, everything just seemed to disappear. Alphard’s been burned off the tapestry since, but he’s left the property in my possession along with the small house on the land. I think if I were to choose one place to spend eternity, it would be there.”

You smiled softly at his answer.

“And you?” He asked, bringing you out of your lovesick haze.

“Me?” You chuckled. “I’d suppose my eternity would be well spent as long as I was somewhere with you.”

28 June 1976

It seemed the entirety of 12 Grimmauld Place shook with how hard Sirius had slammed the front door.

He was gone.

Completely and entirely gone.

And Regulus was completely and entirely alone now.

Regulus swiftly made his way up the stairs and to his room, just barely avoiding a collision with the poor house elf.

“Y/n’s room.” The words were spoken clearly and concisely as the floo powder fell from his shaky hands.

The time of night- 2:27 am- was of little importance to Regulus, he needed to see you.

You woke up with a jolt, the sound of someone stumbling into your room and panicked mumbling doing nothing to ease your nerves though the mop of dark curls had your heart calming down.

“Reg?”

He turned to look at you with heartbroken eyes, watery and bloodshot.

“He’s gone.” He choked out.

You kicked the blankets off yourself and stood up from your bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor.

Keeping a calm tone you slowly got closer to him, “Who’s gone, love?”

His pain was so evident, rolling off him in waves, “Sirius- he’s not coming back.”

“Oh,” You sighed, treading lightly. “I’m sur-”

“No!” He cried, “Burned off the tapestry, probably with the Potters- he’s gone an-and he left me with them.”

Regulus’ anguish, tear stained cheeks, had your own eyes welling with unshed tears. It was clear words would do nothing to calm him, instead you opted for pushing yourself into him and taking his crying form into your arms. His body seemed to give out as you held him, his tears soaking your shirt as he wailed into your neck.

Neither of you could tell how long you stood in the middle of your room seemingly holding him together, but his cries subsided into gentle whimpers and the occasional sniffle as his nose nudged the side of your neck.

His voice came out rough and strained, just barely above a whisper, “Please don’t- don’t leave me like Si- like he did.”

You could feel your heart shatter, “Wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

“I don’t know how I would’ve survived in this mess if I had never known you.”

Your breath came out ragged as you spoke the truest words you've ever dared to speak, “My heart beats for you, Regulus.”

30 December 1979

His forearm itched.

It seemed to always have an odd itch ever since he was sixteen.

Regulus watched your form get closer, bundled in a thick overcoat and a dark blue scarf- Christmas present from himself- wrapped neatly around your neck. You were the picture of beauty, like a living doll with your soft smile and adoring eyes.

“My love.” You greeted him, leaning in to place a soft kiss against his cold cheek.

His eyes seemed distant, your only greeting a tight lipped smile.

Your eyebrows knit together, “Everything alright?”

Regulus nodded, his eyes swimming with a sadness so familiar, “Just taking you in.”

He pulled off his leather gloves, stuffing them deep in his coat pocket before reaching his hand out to hold your jaw, his thumb running across your skin. The action was comforting and you couldn’t help but close your eyes to savour the feeling of his thumb caressing your cheekbone.

You let out a small gasp when you felt him take your lips in a slow kiss. It was passionate, loving, yet there was a certain finality to it that had a shiver run up your spine in the most unpleasant way.

“I have the cruelest favor to ask of you, and I can only hope you’ll forgive me once I do.”

Your stomach dropped, “What do you mean, Regulus? What- what favor?”

“Please, try to understand-”

“What favor?”

“I couldn’t-”

“Tell me what the favor is, Regulus.”

Your voice had an edge to it that made him compose himself almost instantly.

He took a breath before speaking, his eyes looking off somewhere behind you as he spoke, “He’s getting stronger.”

You didn’t need to ask who this ‘he’ was, the tone made it very clear.

“He has these… horcruxes. Incredibly dark magic, I don't know how many but I know of one. It’s hidden and I’ve found out the location, I can destroy it I know I can but-”

His tone was hushed and your heart rate had started to pick up speed.

“But you don’t know if you’ll live to tell the tale?” You asked with a humorless laugh.

The look in Regulus’ eyes had told you, you were right.

“I can’t let him continue. If this could stop him, weaken him even, it’s worth whatever the consequence to myself may be.” He argued.

You pushed yourself further from him, “I can’t- I won’t lose you. No, there’s no way.”

His expression shifted into one of sorrow and pleading, “I have to.”

And you knew there was no changing his mind.

You bit the side of your lip anxiously, looking at the ground before asking, “And this favor?”

The heartbreak was almost palpable, his voice going raw.

“I cannot be fully prepared to do anything that is necessary to destroy this horcrux if-”

He cut himself off with an intake of breath.

“If I know you’ll be waiting for my return, if I know what I have to leave behind I may be tempted to not go through with my plan.”

You couldn’t help but feel and look horrified, “What are you asking of me, Regulus?”

He seemed to flinch at the tone of your voice, a tone you’d never used before and one he couldn’t name.

“I need you to obliviate yourself from my memory.”

It felt as though your chest had collapsed in on itself, “I-I couldn-”

“You have to!” Regulus cried, his arms gripping the sides of your face as you couldn’t help but let a choked sob escape from your lips. “It’s the only way I’ll be able to go through with it, I can't know that there’s a possibility of leaving you.”

“Please, Regulus, you can’t ask this of me.” You choked out, searching his eyes for some sort of humor, something that told you it was all a cruel joke.

He pressed his lips against your forehead, both of your eyes closing as you two took in short, ragged breaths.

Everything seemed darker. The flowers in the Black garden were cold and dead, the snow wasn’t snow at all, instead dangerous sheets of ice. It was then you realized the war, the death eaters, everything had become so real.

“There is a letter on your bed at home, I’ve settled everything for you. I’m going to stand against the pillar, my back to you, and you are going to do it from behind the hedges so we won’t see each other after. You need to leave once it’s done alright?”

You nodded solemnly, knowing there was no use in fighting it. The cause was bigger than you, bigger than Regulus. Everyone made sacrifices, this just had to be yours.

“My heart beats for you, Y/n, whether I know it or not.”

“And mine for you, Regulus.” You smiled sadly, pulling his wrist up to your face and pulling back his sleeve to reveal his dark mark, pressing a kiss to the skin you spoke, “You aren’t them, you never were and you never will be.”

Regulus smiled but said nothing as he lowered his arms and put his gloves back on. With slow steps he walked to the pillar and looked back at you one last time.

“I’m just taking you in.” He whispered, before slowly turning.

You took your wand from your coat as you took even slower steps to stand just far enough for him not to notice you after it had been done. Regulus felt his resolve crumble with each crunch of your boots against the frozen ground, his eyes screwed shut- tears rolling down his face freely- as he prepared for what was coming.

With a shaky hand you raised your wand.

“Obliviate.”

Present

Sirius seemed to be thrown back from the pensieve, as if the memory had rejected him from viewing any longer, still sensitive. He felt an odd tickling sensation run down his cheek, his hand raising to brush away a stray tear as he fell into a nearby chair.

He never knew…

***

You pushed open the backdoor of your small home, the warm scent of cherry trees welcoming you. The sun was just barely starting to set as you looked off into the horizon of the vast field of trees, if you looked long enough you could make out the handsome silhouette of a boy you once knew sitting up in a cherry tree.

Only a few short months later, the lone figure would be joined by another… a brother.

tags:

@amourtentiaa

@vsawyer1989

@lifeofkaze

@siriusement

@erinruby003

@maybesandohnos

@onlyfreds

@tayyx

#regulus black x reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black blurb #regulus black imagine #regulus black x fem!reader #marauders era

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lumosinlove · 4 years ago

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Vaincre

It’s here!! Thank you all for the support of this universe, it truly means so very much to me. Every time I get a comment, or get to read the fan fiction you all write, see the art you create...it just fills me with so much joy. I’m so excited to share the Sweater Weather sequel with you, Vaincre! Go Lions!

cw: brief mention of past injury and past abuse

part i: July

I’ve been holding my breath

I’ve been counting to ten

The media wasn’t kind. There were network shows and blogs. Magazines and papers and podcasts. Not to mention Twitter.

Remus had heard his name on all of them, even if he wasn’t listening. It was part of Alice’s job to make sure he knew what was being said about him. It was his job to tune most of it out. Some outrage. Some elation. Some confusion.

This is my question, one podcast asked. I mean, I’m happy for Black. Lupin, too. I’m happy for the hockey world to have this happen, it’s about time, I mean, tune it, come on, and all that.

I’m confused about the, you know, ‘let’s put the PT on the roster.’ I’ve seen college clips, like, those have been released, we know that he got injured, we know all that. He’s fast, we know that, too. But a lot of guys are fast.

Just…what a move by Coach Weasley. A good move? I don’t know. I really don’t know.

Remus had always loved to run. It cleared his head. It had been one of the forms of exercise he had been able to do first once his shoulder had healed, before weights or any sort of strength training. His therapists had recommended it. Endorphins, they had said.

But Remus liked it because it was the closest he had been able to get to gliding on the ice, even when he still couldn’t stand to even look at a rink.

A good move? I don’t know. I really don’t know.

Remus was used to not knowing. He was beginning to think he thrived on it. Would he play hockey again? Would he ever find love? Would Sirius want him?

Was this really happening?

He didn’t think of dreams as coming so late, but, then again, why should dreams be put on any sort of time schedule?

Now, he banged out the screen door and onto the rickety, well-loved porch of the lake house that had been passed down through his family for years. His mother and her brothers split it up in the summer, overlapping for a week or so, and there were always little gifts left behind for each family at the trade-off. A bottle of the best maple syrup, or some of the local honey. They were small, but Remus smiled when he saw what his uncle and aunt and cousins had left for him and Sirius after his parents and Julian had given them the month of July with the house to themselves. A little flower arrangement with two hockey sticks, carved out of wood, sticking up in the middle.

Sirius had plucked one from the dirt, twirled it over in his fingers, and smiled.

“Your family will never stop surprising me.”

Green Lake was deep, prime for fishing, and gorgeous. The smell of the water, of the soil and sweet summer air was as good as home to Remus. He breathed it in now as he bent to lace up his sneakers. He could smell the fire pit that they had lit last night, one that he and Julian had roasted thousands of marshmallows over.

“I showed Jules how to roast the perfect marshmallow here,” Remus had said that first July night, leaning back against Sirius’ chest.

Sirius had blew out his burnt-black one. “Like this?”

Remus had scoffed. “No, you heathen.”

Sirius looked good here, surrounded by the woods and rusty cabin, wearing the old fleeces that never seemed to leave this place for when the sun had yet to warm the chilly mornings. Some mornings, they’d make their coffee, tangle their socked feet together on the small couch until the sun began to get high and they’d strip it all off in favor of swimsuits and sunscreen. Other mornings, Remus would rise, pressing a gentle kiss to Sirius’ sleeping face, and take to the dirt road that ran around the lake.

Sirius, just off of the hard won playoffs, needed to rest. Remus needed to train.

A good move? I don’t know. I really don’t know.

They would leave in two days for Pascal’s Cup Day celebration, and then to meet Remus’ parents, his little brother Julian, and Regulus back in Gryffindor for Sirius’ Cup Day. And August training. Remus stretched his hands to his toes and closed his eyes. A strange type of adrenaline filled him whenever he thought about practicing with the team, about the fitness tests that would come first. He’d have to prove himself again and again. He wanted to. But part of him wondered what would happen if he couldn’t.

The screen door squeaked open and shut again, and Remus jumped, looking up to find Sirius, still sleep rumpled, standing there in running shorts.

Remus laughed, reaching up to trace a pillow crease in his cheek. “You’re supposed to be sleeping in while you can.”

Sirius let out a grumbly sort of yawn and gathered his hair, long from the summer and just brushing his chin now, back into a small half-up bun.

“I can’t believe you do this before coffee.”

“Too acidic. Gives you running stitches.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius sighed, and threw his arm around Remus’ shoulders as they walked up the steep driveway to the road.

Remus kissed his wrist. “I’ll miss being here with you.”

Sirius smiled. He was tan from the summer, hair dark as ever and his skin sun-kissed.

Remus leaned into his shoulder. “I mean look at you. I like seeing you this relaxed.”

Sirius bit his lip as the rounded a bend, waving at Mrs. Barrow, who was tending to her garden.

“I don’t think I knew I could be this relaxed,” Sirius admitted. “It was always train, train, train, you didn’t get a Cup, try harder.”

Remus was familiar with the notes that appeared in Sirius’ voice now from years of Sirius’ small slips in conversation, even when, to Remus, Sirius had only been they youngest captain in the league, cold and reserved from even more years of his father’s abusive, relentless attitude towards hockey and Sirius’ skills. Even when Remus had only been the team’s physical therapist, closeted, crushing on Sirius, and surprised by the cracks Sirius showed when he had gotten his ankle smashed by Severus Snape, Captain of the Slytherin Snakes—the Gryffindor Lions greatest rivalry. Pain, it had seemed, and fear of never stepping on the ice again, had given Remus his first glimpses into a different Sirius beneath it all, a boy who was filled with much more than just a need to win, but for whom the want of winning only made him love his sport, and his team, more.

“And now that you have a Cup?” Remus asked. “How’re you feeling?”

They came to the road and Sirius balanced on one foot, stretching his thigh. “Now that I have you,” he said. “I’m feeling just fine.”

Remus snorted. “Yeah, the Stanley Cup Champion part has nothing to do with it.”

Sirius laughed, but took Remus’ face between his palms. “If I didn’t have you, and I had only a Cup, all I would be doing right now is thinking about another Cup.”

Remus put a hand on his chest, fingers finding the number twelve pendant that rested there.

“Now, there’s more,” Sirius said simply, and leaned down for a tender kiss. “Like your mother’s peach pie.”

Remus punched him in the arm as Sirius laughed loudly.

“You’ll have to beat me if you want a slice of that!” Remus called as he took off.

Sirius made a wounded noise, but sprinted after him until they were side by side again.

“I don’t think I can leave this beach,” Leo mumbled into the lounging cabana they were spread out beneath, and Logan looked down at him from where he was reading—trying to read—one of the books Finn had given him. He didn’t know how many books Finn had tried to get him to read over the years, but he knew he never made it through more than a few pages without looking up, getting distracted, or having to go back.

“Non?” Logan asked.

Leo shook his head. “The sun. The sea. I’m in heaven.”

“What about hockey?”

“Brr.”

Logan laughed and settled back into the pillows, setting the book aside and rolling towards Leo to feel his sun-warmed back and leaned down to kiss his temple. A private beach definitely had its perks—and so did three hockey salaries.

“We’ll just stay here, then.”

They’d had a good summer. Leo’s Cup Day, Finn’s, his own, all in their hometowns and accompanied by large parades and fanfare. Logan had finally gotten to take Leo home to his sisters and parents for the first time. It had been nice to see Finn around his family again, too, after what felt like eons of avoiding him in that small gap between being at Harvard and then them both making it to the NHL, and to the Lions.

Leo’s sleepy smile up at him melted Logan like ice in the sun.

“Okay, good,” Leo said, then his eyes went behind Logan. “There’s the ghost-on-toast with our drinks.”

Logan snorted and looked up to see Finn—and Finn’s tiny blue swim shorts that he insisted weren’t see-through—walking towards them through the sand from the resort bar with a tray of drinks in his hands.

“Hey, lover-nuts,” Finn said as he set the tray down in the shade. “Got us some snacks, too. That bar tender loves me.”

“You are so pale,” Leo laughed. “I love you, though, please put more sunscreen on.”

“Keep your sandy feet off my towel,” Logan nudged Finn’s foot with his own as he reached for his drink. Finn just smiled and nodded at the book.

“How is it?” Finn asked.

Logan just looked at him.

He laughed and ran a hand through Logan’s salty, damp hair. “I know. I’ll read it to you later. I just thought you might want something for the beach!”

Logan held up his cocktail. “I have something for the beach.”

They settled back under their cabana, the thin, white linen curtains fluttering around them in the three o’clock breeze. Maybe Logan, as he closed his eyes between Leo and Finn, Leo’s hand still on his thigh, Finn’s arm pillowing the back of his neck, never wanted to leave this beach, either.

“Back to Gryffindor tomorrow,” Logan said.

“Group chat says most guys’ll be back this week,” Finn said, squinting at his phone over his sunglasses. “We gotta be back for Dumo’s, and then Cap’s Cup Day. That’ll be nice, man.”

“I like that they’re bringing it to Gryffindor Pride,” Leo said, rolling onto his back. “Should have thought of that. Or, I guess…” Leo trailed off and Logan frowned. They couldn’t do that. Not yet, at least. Leo caught Logan’s expression and rested a reassuring hand on his thigh. “I’m glad we get to go, even if its for them on the surface. That’s real thoughtful of them, you know?”

Logan nodded. It was thoughtful. When Remus and Sirius had brought it up to them, he’d found himself getting a little choked up.

“We want you guys to be able to experience that, too,” Remus had said. “If you want. No matter what you decide to do public-wise in the future.”

Finn clicked his phone off and chucked it to the side. “Hey, don’t take me off island time yet. We’ll order to the room, eat on the deck, hike up and stargaze…”

Finn rattled off the perfect list, tilting towards Logan until their lips met.

“And then we’ll go win another Cup.”

Leo and Logan punched him at the same time.

Thomas sat in the shade with Kasey as they watched Alex try to take on Natalie and Noelle at pool basketball.

“I really think they’re going to accidentally drown him,” Thomas said thoughtfully.

“He probably thinks that, too, and is just too competitive to stop,” Kasey replied.

Thomas laughed, and held out his beer to cheers.

“This is a nice house the O’Haras have, man,” he looked at the sparkling ocean beyond the steps and fence, and at the pool with the grill and lounge chairs. They’d only come up for the weekend, between training and visiting their own families, and before returning to Gryffindor for the season.

“Tell me about it.”

“Cheating!” Alex spluttered from the pool as Natalie put all of her weight on him to dunk him under the water. Alex pointed very seriously to the foot marker on the side tile. “We agreed from that to Thomas’ chair, I was too far away!”

“Too bad!” Noelle shouted as she made another basket.

Thomas didn’t think it was the alcohol that made him feel a little fuzzy at the edges as he looked over her in her swimsuit. She was all curves of tanned muscle, softened the summer around her stomach and arms. Thomas was a goner. But she seemed pretty gone, too, so he guessed it was all right.

“This moment’s always rough,” Kasey said softly from beside him, and when Thomas looked at him questioningly, he gestured vaguely with his beer. “The end of July. One more month, but not really. Alex’ll go back for training, you know? It’s like a trick. I always think, I get three months with these two. But it’s more like two and the first week of August.”

Thomas nodded. “I know. Noelle, too. Her training camp starts on the eight. I’m just…”

Kasey sighed in sympathy.

“At least you have Nat, you know?” Thomas said. “Not that I’m saying you have it easier, I just…”

Kasey shook his head. “I know. Believe me, I’m thankful for that every day. But…when you miss someone, you miss someone.”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, exactly.”

Last season hadn’t been too bad. His relationship with Noelle had been new. They only really knew FaceTime dates, and squeezed in weekend flights that sometimes left them more exhausted than sated. They had been taking it slow. Thomas had been kissed by Noelle—a lot. Enough to make him dizzy with it. Only, then she’d met him at the airport in Quebec, they’d spent a month with her family in France…

And Thomas wasn’t sure he knew how to do just FaceTime anymore. There was a new yearning, knotted just below his heart. He knew what her skin felt like under his hands now, knew what she looked like right when she waked up, even her skincare routine before bed. It would feel like being away from the ice for too long, the knot pulling tight. He thought this year was going to be harder. Maybe he knew it, but if he did, he was pretending it might be easy still.

“T,” Noelle called, floating on her back, dark hair fanned out in the water. “C’mere!”

Thomas smiled, setting his drink down. He would come, whenever she called. Wherever.

Cole Reyes didn’t know if Adele Dumais staring at him the way she was was a good thing, or a bad thing. He was nervous enough without the seemingly disapproval of Pascal Dumais'—the Pascal Dumais of the Gryffindor Lions, oldest player in the league—teenage daughter.

“Don’t you talk?” Marc, one of his sons, asked.

Cole blinked. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah.”

Adele waved her brother off. “They’re always super nervous at first. Remember Sirius?”

Marc scoffed. “I was a baby.”

Cole let out a breath. Now they were casually talking about Sirius Black, who had lived in the very room Cole had been sleeping in for a week now when he was a rookie, too. It was the same with Logan Tremblay. He felt like he needed to keep the room pristine, like he was living in some Hockey Hall of Fame museum that he had not earned the right to be in yet.

“You’re still a baby,” Adele shot back.

“Kids,” came Celeste, Pascal’s wife’s voice from where she was setting the table. “Come on now.”

“Sorry, maman,” Marc said softly.

“Sorry,” Adele sighed more reluctantly.

“Go help your father with the grill, you two,” she said. “Everyone will be arriving soon.”

Katie, Celeste and Pascal’s youngest daughter, perked up from where she was sitting beside Cole, drawing. Not Pascal, Dumo—Cole kept having to remind himself that he could call Pascal by his nickname now, that it was all official, that he was a Gryffindor Lion, too. Katie hadn’t left his side since he arrived a week ago to billet with the Dumais, and he still wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Even the Cup?” she asked.

Celeste laughed. “Oui, ma cherie. Cole? Would you mind going to get the flowers for the table? They’re on the kitchen counter, just inside.”

“Oh, sure, Mrs. Dumais,” Cole nodded, glad for something to do. The thought of the Cup arriving gave him the chills. He’d have to be careful not to touch it. He was scared to even look at it, to be honest. His mom would be laughing at him right about now. He wanted to call her afterwards, tell her everything.

“Call me Celeste, I told you, please,” Celeste smiled. She was lovely, with her dark hair twisted and clipped up and a summer dress as green as her eyes, silky against her olive skin.

Cole flushed, but smiled. “Celeste.”

Cole made his way through the sliding door from the back yard and through the dining room. The kitchen was one of the biggest rooms in the house—and it was a big house. Beautiful copper pans hung shining above the island, along with some herbs that Celeste grew and dried herself. It looked like something out of a magazine to Cole, and it was nice, but it wouldn’t beat his mom’s kitchen in the small apartment they shared in Boston. The small space would fill up to the brim with the smell of spices, or cobbler. The thought sent a pang right to his heart. He missed home, that was for sure. After being away for so long, for so many hockey camps, he’d hoped he would be more used to it by now.

The flowers were right where Celeste had said they would be, and he was reaching for one when the back door that led to the garage dinged open. Cole froze, sure that he was about to run into captain Sirius Black completely unprepared, when a girl stepped through instead. She was dressed in denim shorts and a white tank top, had dark brown skin, and a Gryffindor College hat over her hair, which was plaited back into many small braids.

She smiled when she saw him. No sign of surprised, or of the nervousness Cole felt when he met basically anyone.

“You must be Cole,” she said.

Cole nodded. The girl was gorgeous. Cole was a mess of nerves already. He didn’t need the stare of the teenage daughter of one of his idols, but he especially could not handle a beautiful girl right now.

“Yeah,” Cole said. “No, yeah, um. Yes.”

The girl strode forward, setting her bag down on the counter, along with a water bottle decorated in stickers. He caught a few Lions ones. She offered her hand, which was slender and had two golden rings on it. “I’m Layla. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Cole took it, trying to place her. “Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, I babysit for the Dumais family,” she said in explanation, then waved her hand. “Well, this year, at least. I’m actually—we’re going to be working together.”

Cole blinked. “You mean the Lions?”

She nodded. “I’m in the middle of my undergrad for physical therapy. Dumo’s amazing and he got me an internship under the new PT. You know. I’ll probably get you stick tape or something,” she laughed. “Congrats, by the way.”

Cole tilted his head and she raised an eyebrow.

“On making it to the NHL?”

“Oh,” Cole laughed. “Oh, I, yeah, thanks. You, too—or…yeah.”

Cole was going to stay in his room in the basement and never come out.

“I gotta—Mrs. Du—Celeste wants these flowers outside,” he said, picking the vases up.

“Sure thing,” Layla smiled.

“Layla,” came a shriek, and a moment later Katie Dumais came sprinting into the kitchen and wrapped herself around Layla’s legs and smiled at Cole. “This is my new hockey player.”

Cole couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t have a lot of experience with kids, but Katie sure was cute.

“Yours?” Layla gasped as she smiled at Cole. “He’s all yours, is he?”

Katie nodded. “Like Tremzy and Sirius. His name is Cole, like when Santa Clause doesn’t like you.”

Again, with the casual mentions of Logan Tremblay and Sirius Black.

“Oh, of course,” Layla laughed. “Well, I’m sure Santa Clause has never not liked you, babes. Let’s go let your mom know I’m here, okay? Your new hockey player can come with us, too.”

“He’s yours, too!” Katie insisted. “You’re here all the time, so he’s yours, too, don’t worry.”

“Oh, good,” Layla said. “I was worried.”

When Katie looked at Cole expectedly, Cole managed, “I guess everyone does need a hockey player?”

“Exactly!” Katie squealed, and Cole could only follow them outside, heart pounding.

It was good to be back in Gryffindor. Remus and Sirius had dropped their bags in Sirius’ entryway, said hello to Regulus, showered, and then hopped right back in the car to get to Pascal’s house.

“You two look disgustingly happy,” Regulus said, leaning forward from the back seat.

“We are,” Sirius grinned at him in the review mirror. “I am also happy,” he stroked the leather steering wheel of his Range Rover. “To be back with this baby.”

While Sirius’ hair had grown longer, Regulus had shaved his short. The curls were barely curls at all anymore, but Remus was happy to see that his seemingly ever-present dark circles had receded some.

“Why, thank you, Regulus, you look happy, too,” Remus snorted. “When do you leave for NYU’s orientation?”

“August 23rd,” he said. “Been texting with my housemates, too. They seem cool.”

“Maybe one of you will pull a Finn and fall in love with each other,” Sirius said.

“Twice,” Remus laughed, and Regulus did, too.

“I think I’ve had enough romance drama to last me a life time, thanks,” Regulus smiled. “But, yeah. I’m just…I’m focused on friends right now, I think. Normal, non-hockey creatures like you two. But that’s not to say if something came up…or I guess someone. Who knows.”

Sirius’ smile was softer this time. “Focus on whatever you want, Reg. You deserve it.”

Regulus just grumbled something about hockey gods, and then they were pulling up to the Dumais’. There were silver and white balloons lining the driveway and the fence to the backyard where, as Remus slammed his door, he could already hear laughter. A zing of excitement shot through him.

“I missed this team,” he sighed as Sirius took his hand.

Sirius pressed a kiss to his temple. “Your team.”

“Our team.”

“Jesus Christ,” Regulus said, and gave them a shove forward.

Thomas gave a loud woop when he spotted them coming out to the backyard. Regulus immediately made a B-line towards Leo and the Cubs.

“Yes! The Captain!” Thomas said and pulled Sirius into a hug. “Missed you, man.”

“You, too, T,” Sirius said. “Ready to tear it up?”

“You know it.”

Remus smiled as Thomas hugged him next. “I forgot you two train together before pre-season.”

“You two?” Thomas raised an eyebrow, the small gold hoops in his ears glinting in the sun. Remus noticed he’d shaved three stripes into one side of his head. They were a little wobbly. Maybe Noelle had done it. “You’re not coming with us?”

“You know how this one is about his routines,” Remus said, wrapping an arm around Sirius’ waist. “Wouldn’t want to mess anything up.”

“Please,” Sirius said. “I want you there more than I want a second—”

Remus and Thomas punched him at the same time.

“I know you weren’t just about to say that,” said an accented voice from behind Remus, and they turned to see Pascal standing there. He looked as he always did, smile lines around his eyes, gray streaks at his temples. He wore a white t-shirt and had Katie on his hip. She was definitely getting too big to be carried around like that, but Remus couldn’t see a time when Pascal would ever refuse her. He’d probably carry Adele around like that, too, if she’d let him.

“Dumo,” Sirius smiled, and took the two beers he was holding out, handing one to Remus. He kissed Katie’s forehead. “Good summer?”

“The best,” Pascal laughed, and nodded towards the edge of the yard. “Especially with the promise of seeing that thing again.”

Remus followed his gaze, and his breath caught, just as he knew it would. The Cup stood there, its guards near by with drinks and plates of food in their hands. It sat proudly on a table, surrounded by white tulips—no doubt Celeste’s doing.

“I’m excited to see you two bring it to the parade,” Pascal said. “That will be a wonderful day for everyone.”

Remus glanced at where Logan, Leo, and Finn were standing with Kasey Winter, Gryffindor’s goalie, and his partners Natalie, with her long blonde hair, and Finn’s brother Alex, who played for Tampa Bay.

Sirius’ smile lit up his face. “It will be.”

Remus peered around him. “Is that our rookie?”

Sirius scoffed. “A rookie can’t call a fellow rookie rookie, rookie.”

Remus blinked. “What did you just say?”

“That’s Cole!” Katie said. “I love him.” Then she turned and shouted his name again. He looked up from where he was standing quietly beside Jackson Nadeau, another player, and Remus suppressed a smile at the way his eyes widened when he saw Sirius.

“Oh, here we go,” Sirius mumbled.

“Oh, hush,” Remus said, and sounded far too much like his mother to himself. “You’re going to be throwing hands for him the second someone gets close, and you know it.”

“I don’t know how to tell rookies I’m just a person!” Sirius whispered as Cole began to make his way over. “They act all…”

“Star struck?” Thomas offered.

Sirius just glowered at him.

Cole Reyes did not look as young as he was. Even at 19, he was jacked, and tall, with light brown skin, green eyes, and a stripe shaved into one of his eyebrows. His hair was shaved at the sides, but longer on the top and in tight curls.

Remus glanced somewhat self-consciously down at himself. He could only put on more muscle healthily so fast. He thought he’d been doing well, but looking at Cole…

“Hello,” Cole said hesitantly and Pascal set Katie down and clapped Cole on the shoulder.

“Reyes, meet Sirius. Sirius, meet the boy who is a much better billet than you ever were.”

Sirius snorted, and Cole laughed—nervously.

“Hi, Cole,” Sirius said, and held out his hand. “I know we spoke briefly over the summer, but it’s nice to officially meet you.”

“You, too,” Cole said, smile slight. “Thanks for the call. My mom freaked out. I mean—well, me too, but my mom…” Cole stuttered out, wincing.

“Loves me?” Sirius laughed. “I get that a lot.”

“He’s so humble,” Remus shook his head jokingly. “Hi Cole, I’m Remus. Welcome to the team.”

“You too…?” Cole said hesitantly. “Well, the roster, I guess.”

“Cole,” Katie said, taking his large hand in her small one. “Come meet Tremzy. He’s my best friend.”

Sirius feigned a pout. “What about me?”

Katie smiled sheepishly, throwing herself at Sirius’ legs, “You, too!”

“Always one-uped by Tremblay,” Thomas laughed, shaking his head. “How’s it feel, Cap?”

“Wonderful,” Sirius said dryly and then looked down at Katie, petting her head. “Go on, go show Cole your best friend.”

They watched her lead Cole through the crowd for a moment before Sirius huffed.

“See?” Sirius whispered to Remus. “It’s like he’s scared of me.”

“I’ve never heard you use the phrase spoke briefly in my life. Who are you, Alice?”

“I was trying to be professional!”

Remus laughed. “Why?”

Sirius just rolled his eyes and dragged him over to stack their plates with food.

The party went well into the evening, the sky pink and blue in the setting sun. There were lanterns floating in the pool where Evgeni and Jackson were playing chicken with a delighted Marc and Louis, or sometimes one of Coach Arthur Weasley’s boys, on their shoulders. Logan was sitting with Cole and Finn, cradling a sleepy Katie against his chest, Leo and Regulus laughing with Kasey and Alex.

Remus found Sirius again standing alone in front of the Cup. His hair was falling into his face, the curls gentled by the evening breeze and the Cup’s silver surface reflecting the silver of Sirius’ eyes. Remus went to stand beside him, and neither of them spoke for a moment.

“I’m nervous,” Remus broke the silence.

Sirius nodded. “I know, mon loup.”

Remus sighed, resting his head against Sirius’ arm. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” Sirius switched his drink to his other hand so he could run his fingers through Remus’ hair. “This is…big.”

“It’s what I’ve always wanted,” Remus whispered. It felt dangerous, to say the words aloud. “It’s everything that I lost. Last time.”

Remus could still feel Fenrir Greyback rip at his shoulder, even if it was years ago now, while they were still at college. Being in the NHL meant that Remus would have to play against him again whenever they met Vegas.

Sirius turned towards him, hand on his cheek.

“You will have this,” he said earnestly, and then smile, reaching into his shirt for his necklace, the one Remus had gifted him last Christmas. He brought it to his lips. “Loops.”

Remus smiled at the now familiar sight, touching the pendant when Sirius’ let it drop.

“You know,” Remus said. “You’re everything I’ve always wanted, too.”

Sirius’ smile was one of Remus’ favorites, and he tucked him against his side. Remus followed his gaze to find him looking at Cole again.

“I’m not happy with the way it happened,” Sirius said softly, and Remus knew he was thinking of the pictures that someone had leaked of them kissing. The pictures that had upturned their entire lives. “But I’m glad I get to hold you like this in front of new faces. I wasn’t thinking about trades—I try not to—but getting Reyes, if things had been different, would have meant we were back to square one at parties like these.”

Remus nodded, taking a drink. “And he seemed okay with it. With us.”

“I was thinking we should invite him to train with us. With me, you, and T. Maybe Dumo would join, too. I know he usually goes with Sergei, but Sergei might be with Kuns and Nado, even though they usually like it just them. The Cubs—”

“Okay, Captain, okay,” Remus laughed.

Sirius pressed a hand over his eyes, laughing. “I just don’t like it when they’re nervous around me. Like Leo was. It’s so much better now that we’re friends.”

“You’ll get there with him,” Remus said. “Yeah, invite him to train with us. The more the merrier.”

Secretly, Remus wanted to see how Cole trained. He couldn’t shake the analytical side of him, the physical therapist side. Cole was built for such a young age.

“If I didn’t know better,” Sirius said softly, mouth close to Remus’ ear. “I’d say you were checking him out.”

Remus spluttered. “I’m not! I want to know his routine!”

Sirius cracked up. “This is your superstition, isn’t it? Cracking other player’s codes.”

Remus just shrugged, smiling into his cup.

“Have you cracked my code?” Sirius asked in the low voice he used that made Remus not want to be surrounded by people.

Remus looked up at him. “Maybe. It certainly has nothing to do with a piece of toast at five o’clock.”

“My pre-game toast is very important to me.”

Remus leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “No, you just like honey and cinnamon.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Okay, I’m going to talk to Reyes now.”

“Catch him if he passes out.”

Sirius just glowered over his shoulder as he stalked across the grass. Remus looked around at the back yard, at the team, together again. His team.

451 notes · View notes

yostresswritinggirl · 4 years ago

Text

Abandoned By The Altar

Part 2; When you grow older.

Vibe Here

A timeline oriented story focused on your once perfect childhood relationship as Diluc’s bride to be, soon becoming estranged after the death of his father and his neglect. You only wish now that he looks at you the same way he did when you heard you were supposed to be together forever when you were young.

Pairings -> Diluc x Reader, Kaeya x Reader if you squint (All young at the first parts)

Word Count -> 8170

Themes -> Initial Fluff, Angst, Fluff again

Series -> #Bonafide Specials (100 followers event) Part 1 Part 3

Warnings -> Character Death, Slightly suggestive themes

Diluc's heart almost leaped to his throat when he had finally seen you, found you, now conversing with the new member of the family his father had adopted just yesterday. Kaeya, was his name. He looked peculiar, and older than him too.

Despite your spritely aura, he noticed his now brother still wary and even tensed at your presence, so the younger boy finally made his way over. The training sword bouncing against his hip with every step, he made his way next to you, offering a smile as he gestured to the blunette. "I see you've met Kaeya, he's my new brother, he entered the house yesterday."

Your lively eyes that was wide with happiness from finally seeing Diluc now held a hint of wonder as it landed on Kaeya, a toothy grin presenting itself on your face. The blunette can't help but blink, "Hello there, big bro Kaeya! I'm (Y/N), my mother and father are good friends with Master Crepus!"

You offered a handshake and he took it only a second late, handshake light yet tight. "Oh! I'm also Diluc's financee." Fiancée, Diluc corrected again as your hands part from each other. "Yeah, that."

Kaeya's only visible eye suddenly flew wide open as he chokes on air. Did he hear that right? These two children in front of him, years younger than him, already fated to marry in the future. What kind of customs does Mondstadt had, he warily thought in the back of his mind as he watches you two interact.

What a sad life it must be to be forced to something like that so early, he thought to himself before he saw you reach out to Diluc's hand. And the redhead, upon noticing this started to remove his used and dirtied glove, before catching your outstretched hand easily.

Kaeya only watched with an uneasy smile. He supposed this is something he needs to get used to if he wants to stay.

And oh boy, it's not something he's gonna get used to easily, the skeptic boy thought as he found himself getting dragged around by the Winery by you. You were touring him around and inside to places he had yet to see, entering rooms that normal people probably had no access to. You knew the Winery as if you had a map on you, and he supposed he expected this much if you were that close to his... brother.

"Were you," the innocence of your eyes as you whipped your head up to look at him hurt his heart over how in contrast it was with his, "forced to be together with Diluc?"

You let out a scandalous gasp on which Kaeya had to stop himself from snorting. "Why, no! I'm the one who even asked him about it," his snort turned into that weird sound again. "He's my bestest friend and I want nothing more than to be by his side always!"

F-Friend? God, Kaeya's head had been experiencing a numbing headache lately.

With his desire to be part of the Knights of Favonius, Diluc had more often than not, neglected giving you attention so often that it was a stark contrast to the closeness you two had before. And on days where he held his training sword, he'd realize just how he missed you and your imposing hugs.

But he wanted- no- needed to get stronger. He was blessed by the Gods with a Vision, and the weak are meant to be protected, and he can't let himself be the useless person he had been the day you were on the brink of death. Even if you hid it perfectly well and brushed aside the incident when you came to, he noticed how the veins in your hand were a more prominent shade of blue now.

How your fingertips get easily cold and how you always clung to the warmth his hand gives off as a result of his Vision.

When Kaeya asked about you, about his Vision, about his ambitions— he complied almost instantly, like a valve opened fully, all the answers Kaeya was seeking flowed out seamlessly like running water.

As the oldest out of you three, despite the fact that you'd all only knew each other for three days, Kaeya had already felt the urge to protect and be there whenever Diluc had busied himself with his justified training. He'd watch your lips turn into a pout as your redhead drag himself back outside with his sword and Kaeya would then distract you from your disappointment.

Crepus had been witness to this grand scheme for a while now, relieved that his new son had at least started coping with the new environment and interactions. But your presence had always astounded the people around you, and comforted those the same age as you. Despite being on the road and barely making lasting friendships, it was a mystery how you managed to entrance people like that.

"Diluc is just pursuing his dreams," the redhead, your uncle, started as he sat next to you by the benches. Boar Princess, he noted as you closed the book you were reading, opting to look up at him with those doe eyes again. "I know you must feel lonely, having to wait for him and everything. But he's doing it for you too, to protect you."

Your eyelids drooped in the implications and your lips pursed into a pout as you turned back to watch Diluc spar with his instructor. You sighed again before whispering under your breath, "But aren't we supposed to be together forever..."

You felt a big hand ruffle your hair, making you whine on how messy it was now. How old were you again? 11 years? Eh, should be enough. "Sweet (Y/N), being Diluc's fiancée doesn't mean you need to be around him everytime," he started talking about your promise and that had finally drawn your full attention. "You have your own life, Diluc has his path to be a knight. Sometimes what you want doesn't go the same was as he wants, and the same goes for him to you. But in the end you still are together, and still treasure each other."

The thought of having a daughter never really passed the man's mind in his whole life, he mused as he watched your beaded eyes fleet back to Diluc, before once again finding itself to Crepus with a firmer resolve. You wanted to learn more and it's time you finally understand the gravity of your promise.

Crepus placed down his cup of grape juice and turned to you on the bench. "You know your mother and father and how they're together, right?" A soft nod. "You two will be just like that, in the future together. Not always together but always end up coming back to each other, because your parents love each other always. Do you want to be with Diluc that way? Do you love and support him like that?"

Your button nose cutely scrunched up in contemplation and shortly gave him a vigorous nod with a wide grin. He grins back. "Good, thank you, I'm sure that Diluc too would support you in your dreams."

As if he had a sixth sense, the young master Diluc felt as if his name was being mentioned in important business as his eyes passes over the bench where you two reside. Sensing the distraction, his instructor finally allowed him a break, and the first thing he did was jog over to the two of you, "Father, (Y/N)." He watched you as you scrambled to climb down the bench, hurriedly taking off his dirtied glove to assist you down.

Crepus once again hid his smile behind his drink as he watched you bound over to him, the same fire in your eyes as you placed your hands on the child's shoulderd firmly. "Diluc, I love you!" You loudly declared before smashing your lips to his— Crepus spits his grape juice. "I'll support your dreams to the end-! Ahhhh, Diluc fainted! Uncle, HELP!"

The young master woke up a few hours later to you crying over and over, saying sorry for 'breaking him again.' Crepus and your parents were by the side, your mother's horrified face concealed by her hand after hearing what you've done.

Oh dear, the Ragnvindr thought to himself, my son is a sub.

Ever since that day, the people around you have started preparing you for your future of refinement and adulthood. You were no Vision-wielder unlike Diluc, and your handling swords were nothing to boast about. Your parents are businessmen and as their only child it would be you that will be inheriting and operating the work that they had built up, and so naturally that was the route you had to pick.

Your tutoring and Diluc's continuous training to get into Ordo Favonius made it hard for you both to spend more time with each other. Toys were replaced by books and swords, garden of Cecilias changed to libraries and training dummies.

Crepus, as a father and an uncle, alternates his time between you two. At times he'd be the one sparring with his child and grating the principles of knighthood to him, and on rare occasions that you were there, he walks you around as he talks about the wine industry and the operations of his business. Both of you started growing, separately, but there was a similar flame representing your spirit within both of your eyes.

Diluc entered the ranks of the Knights when he was 14, and Crepus was overwhelmed by the achievement his son finally reached, of the dream he once had when he was a child. In that same age range, you've also ended up making a name for yourself as the youngest business entrepreneur and economic scholar, your name and prodigy reached past Liyue...

And in your hands lay a perfectly white envelope enclosed with the insignia of Sumeru. The Academia invites you into a scholarship program once you turned 18.

Your whole family rejoiced at the recognition and the opportunity and you wept in tears of happiness. Finally, your young mind cried, you were finally something worthy to be next to Diluc instead of a normal person that can't be blessed by the Gods.

A party had been in order for both milestones, and more prestigious individuals from all over Teyvat were present. Something came up before the party that forced you to be late once again, and Diluc realized just how long you hadn't seen each other, more so spent time with each other. Kaeya stood next to him before nudging him with an elbow slightly, "What's got you so worried, brother? You shouldn't frown on your own party."

At the remark, Diluc stood straighter and fixed his frown. Why is it now that he was reminded of your promises and dwindled time? In the back of his mind, he realized just how much at fault he was for being neglectful. The spark you two had felt estranged and distant, feeling as tho things won't come back to the way they were.

The Court Marshal's booming voice suddenly announced your family name and the hall turned silent as everyone lifted their gaze to the grand entrance. Your bedazzled self stood there in your ombre dress, short sleeve matched with elbow gloves, and a resin Cecilia hairpiece holds itself on the crown of your head.

Diluc and Kaeya, and several other boys in the crowd gasped at your regal aura. Was this really YOU? The same girl that spit a grape on his hand/complimented a stranger's eyepatch? You stood with the poise of a refined woman and your face enlightened with a subtle artificial blush. Gone was your toothy grin and replaced with respectful smile as you made your way through the crowd.

Suddenly the nervousness came crashing back to the knight and he scrambled to pick himself up as the distance between you two shortened.

"Master Diluc," you curtsied and he inwardly doubled over at the formality, finding it almost detesting. "I'm glad to meet you again."

"(Y/N)," he bowed with a hand on his chest. "You don't need to be so formal."

The respectful smile on your face turned into a full-blown grin, the one he was used to, as you barreled towards him for a hug. Purely due to instincts and conditioning, Diluc was quick to catch you into his arms to reciprocate the hug. Disappointed gasps and whines echoed through the hall at the display, but they stood there in awe as they watched, for the rare sight of the young master's genuine smile was there for all to see.

As you two first danced the night away, it was finally brought onto everyone the fact that young master Diluc and young mistress (Y/N) were already fated together.

The ballroom parted to give way to you two as you chatted the missed times together, falling easily into steps while updating each other of the things you had done. It's true, you two may had gone your separate ways and lost time but in the end, you'll find yourself in each other's embrace.

The darkness of the knight embraces the winery as crystalflies dance by the vines and the surrounding grassland. The freshly signed contract made its way in between the pages of the personal journal before it was pushed into the luggage together with the packed clothes.

There was a thick silence in the room as Diluc continued watching with his lips tight, leaning against the doorframe. A tension was obvious, but it wasn't between you two, but it was also against you two.

Tomorrow at high noon marks your official departure to Sumeru now that you had finished your secondary education, at the prime age of 18. All things necessary had been prepared, a convoy of knights to guide you until you reach past the border of the continent, and in that security is Kaeya. Cavalry Captain Diluc had matters to work on in the capital, it was not his official job to officiate your leave. Even if he wanted to.

It was one of the instances, of the many, that being a knight had pulled him away from you.

"Something's on your mind, I can feel it," Diluc snapped out of his thoughts when he felt the ghost of your fingertips brush away the hair framing his face, cupping both of his cheeks like you've always done. He takes one into his hand, squeezing it lightly as he offers a small smile.

"So are you, your hands are trembling," and indeed they were. You huffed at being caught but recovered, pulling him into your room and on to your bed. There were numerous times when you'd sleep together on the same bed when you missed each other; you were both 8 that time, now you laid there as 18 years olds. The implications had him gulp while you seemed unbothered.

"Four years," you recounted as you flopped back on your mattress, the room you took for yourself in the winery ever since you arrived 10 years ago. "Maybe lesser, depending on how well I do."

"You'll do good," he assured as he kicked off his boots and climbed next to you, now laying on his side to face you. Your eyes fluttered shut with a sigh and he couldn't hell but blush at the way your eyebrows scrunched together with your pursed lips, "I believe in you."

"It's the longest we'll be separated, you can easily find another girl that would bother you enough to get you to marry her." You both snorted at the idea, before laughing in harmony at the joke.

"Mmm, I should be saying that to you. Scholars and prestigious men attend the Academia, they can easily sweep you away with their wits," he bit back and you laughed at the idea. How funny the predicament is, joking about getting stolen the same day you finally signed your arranged marriage contract.

Talks about anything and everything blew the night away easily. Diluc can see in your eyes that the nerves within you wouldn't let you sleep, and keeping him locked in constant conversation would prevent him from leaving. He entertained you this much, uncharacteristically chatty, as if repaying the four years that will go by without each other. And at the back of Diluc's mind, his worry of losing you in those four years started to manifest and cloud his thoughts into a fairly sensible doubt.

"Lulu!" He yelped as he felt a sudden bite on his cheek, reflexively pushing you down by the shoulders under him to suppress the assault. He was strong, you'd forgotten this new fact. As you laid sprawled under him as heavy breathing mixed in between.

You gripped the wrists of his hands that now stands next to your head to keep him there. His eyes were wide yet bashful. You called out to him again and it was almost a whine, asking him to tell you what's in his mind, what's worrying him and distracting him like this.

And he spilled all his insecurities, for every word that slipped past his lips, his heart relaxes while his eyes clenches. Somewhere in the middle of his rant, you had his cheeks captured in your palms again, to swipe at the tears that passes by. He worked his ass off to become a knight so he can protect you but you will be too far for his claymore to reach you, he wouldn't be there to hold your hand so you don't go off on your own and wonder to somewhere dangerous. And he wouldn't be there to bring you into his arms to remind that he exists, the one and only person meant to be for you.

Diluc doesn't know when he started falling in love, he doesn't know when he started wanting your company as a lover. But he knows there would be men that would look at you the way he does, easily captivated by your aura and your beauty. And if they were to take your hand, he wouldn't know. He wouldn't know when he had lost you, if he had lost you already.

Diluc was an honest man to you, and he was honest when he said he was scared to lose you.

"I belong to you," you started as your fingers softly pats his cute reddened cheeks. "And only you. I'll get a ring and don it on my hand to let the world know, I'll write letters to you as many times as I can so you'll know I'm still alive and yours." You pulled him closer, foreheads touching each other, as you stared at the red windows to his soul. He nods in agreement, slightly assured.

"I want to stay here tonight," somehow you urged the words out of him so easily everytime. The introverted boy you once knew stood on his own feet now, proudly, "Just so I don't forget you easily."

"I won't let you forget me at all," Diluc froze from taking off his vest when he saw you with a mischievous glint in your eyes, "Not after tonight." Oh boy.

It was the devil's hour when you twirled a strand of his untied hair, wild and curly, around your finger. Luscious and thick, silky yet unkempt. "Don't cut your hair," you mumbled as you leaned against his bare chest, sending a smile as you tilt your head up to see him chuckle, "It looks better long, I want it extra long when I come back!" He mumbles his agreement against the crown of your head.

When the sun rose high in the sky and the caravan was set to go, many of the servants of the Winery had expressed their congratulations and their good lucks to your new milestone. Your parents were more worried than not knowing their only child, nomad at heart, shall venture the world alone for four years away from them. You were crying angrily at how they made it so sentimental, forcing the waterworks out of you.

Crepus had already given his goodbyes and stood to the side with Diluc before the clock struck exactly 4 PM. The man's vigilant eyes however did not miss the fact that you and Diluc seem to lack the necessary sleep to power through the day, even tho half of it is already gone. How they grow up so fast.

When you found yourself bounding over to Diluc one last time, he took your hand ever so gently, still coming into terms of your departure. You only hum idly as he stares at your bare hands, before suddenly he presented two silver rings of infinity. You had to stop yourself from gasping aloud, "A promise ring, so that everyone in Sumeru knows there's someone waiting for you back home already." His red gaze averted to the side in fluster, gingerly sliding the band to your ring finger as he did the other to his own.

Home. Yes, Mond is now your home, and specifically next to him is where you belong. You shared your last kiss before Kaeya had finally called for the carriage to start ascending, on the dot. You peeked out of the carriage one last time as you waved your goodbyes to everyone, the silver band catching the light of the sun as it shines with promise.

Diluc wished goodbyes to you that day. And as he turns to his father to board their own horseback and carriage, he ends up losing two people on the same day.

Dearest Diluc,

I hope this letter finds you well. The Academia had been very accommodating ever since I arrived, there are a lot of people here from all over Teyvat, just like you had thought! I felt quite lonely and inferior when I entered but I've gained nice companions along the way and things became easy. With my exposure to our families' businesses, studies were actually easier than I expected them to be. There's been talks with the professors of me being accelerated half a year with my progress, it seems four years may not be accurate.

I've also gained myself a senior, a really kind and intelligent upperclassmen. His name is Cyno, a nice gentleman. He's been teaching me on weapon mastery since he's really good with a polearm. You use a Claymore, right? If I come back wielding a polearm, I want to spar! But don't worry about him, he knows of our betrothal and his boundaries.

How's being the captain there? I hope Uncle Crepus and Kaeya are doing well with you mostly in Mond's city now. It seems the Academia doesn't really receive letters for 'security reasons' hence why I haven't received any of your letters. But no matter, I'm sure you're doing far better than I am, you're much stronger and capable now afterall! Make sure to take care of yourself always, get some breaks and eat your meals! I don't want to see you so skinny and weak when I get back!

Forever Yours,

(Y/N)

There is bliss in ignorance. As you fold up the letter into the envelope, the door to your room echoes a knock before it softly opens to reveal your upperclassman. His gaze falls on the envelope on your hand in silent question to which you return with a smile and a nod, standing up from your study table as you followed Cyno out of the dormitories to the Academia's post office.

It had been a year since you left Mondstadt, a year since you've last seen Diluc, and a year since Crepus had died. Your parents, not wanting you to be distracted by the loss and dent your studies over such matters, opted to refrain from informing you of the grave news. It has also been a year since you started writing letters to Diluc and never received a reply.

"Time will go by quickly, and you'll be back before you know it," the Sumeru denizen beside you reassured you of your lack of correspondence and you offered a smile at his niceties. It doesn't worry you that Diluc wasn't able to contact you like so, you only wish that he was able to receive your little notes so he's reminded to take care of himself.

Yet as you pass the envelope to the postman, there was still an uneasy feeling on the back of your mind. You turn around with a curious hum, calmly and slowly scanning the grounds of the Academia before walking once again to catch up with your senior, clutching the silver ring close to your chest as you fell back into idle chatter.

Once you've disappeared behind the doors of your next class, a lone man stands straight on one of the tower's roof. The warm wind of Sumeru washes by him in a force enough to whisk away his hood, but he did not care. He did not care over the way his red hair spills all over his shoulders as it danced with the wind.

Diluc only heaved a sigh before leaping back into the shadows on his last day in the desert nation, finding no proper clue and heading to the next nation over. But not before stealing a freshly folded letter from the shelf of a certain post office.

Two years. Two years. Sumeru Academia sent you off on graduation with both striking awe and somber disappointment. After losing the prodigy Lisa, they were now losing you, the now renowned master practitioner of economics. You did so well, SO WELL in fact, that your four years stay ended in just two because of your numerous acceleration as a year in you're already conversing with the modern founders of the practice.

They wanted you to stay longer but you've had your fair share of knowledge and waiting. Everyone knew of your relationship predicament, understanding where you're coming from, yet to leave another prodigy to Mondstadt. It was unnerving for them, but your smile had been nothing but reassuring. You comforted those with the promise of correspondence and accommodation, if they so wish to find time and pass by Mondstadt in the future.

And hence you find yourself in Dawn Winery, your luggage and naginata as your only companion. You barged in like nobody's business and started looking around for anyone- Kaeya, Uncle Crepus, Diluc- yet no one showed up. Servants are scarce and almost non-existent, you were confused beyond comprehension.

A set of footsteps echoed behind you and you twisted around in excitement, only to see one of the higher attendants you still remember, Elzer. "M-Mistress (Y/N)! Y-You're ali- you're here!" You cocked your head to the side, unsure of how to take his slip up.

Ah, right, priorities. "Have you seen where anyone is? Kaeya, Master Crepus, Diluc? I passed by here first since it's on the way but I can't find anyone!" The gravity of the change gnawed at you from the pit of your stomach, and you nibbled at your bottom lip at the flash of emotions that passed his face.

"We're unsure where Master Diluc is currently, but Master Kaeya is in Mondstadt-" A lead! Diluc must be patrolling somewhere in the city anyways so you bolted out of the mansion, thanking the man before he can finish answering all your questions. As you left so loudly, in your wake the other servants were now aware of your presence, and the feeling of dread revives in the Winery.

Two years must have gone by longer than you expected it to be, this thought passed you as you went through the main gates of the City of Freedom. The knights that were usually on guard are those you've never seen before, and the people around you barely spared you a glance with no recognition. Even the ones stationed at the entrance of the Ordo Favonius HQ were completely new when you went over to ask.

"Have you seen- do you know where the uhm," you paused in remembrance, "The Cavalry Captain. Do you know where he is?" With how new they were, you figured Diluc would be known by his title instead.

One of them nods and pointed at the Cathedral, "Yes, Ma'am. He's just finished an expedition and are conversing with the healers in the church." Finally, an exact location! You thanked them and flew off once again.

And so you found yourself in front of the altar of the anemo archon, alone in the completely silent establishment. There were no whispers to guide you or people to tell you where he is, it was too quiet, and you were turning helpless. Offering your bow to the statue you turned to walk back down the aisle, only to see a familar figure staring at you as if you were a ghost haunting-

"(Y/N)?" You gasped and ran towards him.

"Kaeya! You're here!" You embraced him softly, careful of the confusing clothing and the hanging polearm on your back. He embraced you just the same, a hearty laugh masking the nervousness on the back of his throat.

"Aren't you supposed to come home two years later?" Kaeya inquired as he stepped back from the hug, suddenly smirking, "Or are you telling me you ran away from school?"

You smacked his arm with a whine at such a preposterous accusation, harder than you'd intended as you heard him wince. Oh goodness, your training with Cyno really made you strong. "Ahhh, no, no! I finished early because I was too good ahah, who would've thought!" The blunette let out a rare snort on that of which only spurred on your laughter.

The familiarity of another had eased the tension on your shoulders as you conversed freely about everything that had transpired for you, how things had been and- you've realized now just how tired you were from the long travel you'd gone through even tho you were used to such lifestyle when you were young.

After things had died down, you finally asked, "Where's Diluc?" And the twinkle of lax delight hardened at the question. He took a few seconds to start as his eye shifted left and right, and your knees were shaking from the implications-

And then he finally told you everything. The death of Crepus. Diluc giving up his Vision. Him disappearing for two year, without return. All the disaster that had happened the moment you left.

Your legs gave out as your knees hit the floor painfully, it will probably bruise later but you couldn't get yourself to care. If you hadn't left that day, would it have gone differently? Would you be able to make him stay? You should have been there to comfort him, to be by his side and yet-

Please tell me you're joking, you cried out so desperately to Kaeya who dropped down to gather you into his arms. But you knew better than that, he knew you knew better than that, so he didn't answer. And the altar behind you listened to the echoed screams and cries of a maiden abandoned by grief and love.

And Kaeya stayed for as long as you needed him to be. And in the back of his mind, a bitterness bit—

That should have been Diluc, holding you and comforting you.

That should be him, showing you where Crepus Ragnvindr's gravestone lies to pay your respects.

That should have been him who stayed.

It had been almost two years now since you've gone back to Mondstadt, almost four years since Diluc disappeared, together with him he took away your hopes and promises. The talk about your arranged marriage had become taboo to the people who still knows, but they don't comment on the ring that still lingered around your finger.

Besides finally taking over the business in Mondstadt (your parents had established one in Fontaine while you were away) and being pursued by scholars all over the world, you've been dealing with the pain silently and alone. Numbing soon. Every passing day with no news of him claws at the idea of him being alive even, and the thought sickens you to death.

It was one of those nights when you couldn't sleep and had decided to stroll around the city during the dead of the night to clear your head. Your parents had sent you a letter of recall to Fontaine, asking you to leave the business to the managers. They didn't exactly put it into words, but you knew your parents better than anyone: you should stop hoping he'd return, was what they wanted to say.

You rubbed your forearm as you continued your walk. It must have been your time with Sumeru that made you so vulnerable to the cold now, was your thought process as another chilly wind passed by you. And then you heard it—

An echoed cackle and a crackle of icicles.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood straight as you stumbled to the side, narrowly missing a flying icicle. Thank goodness Sumeru Academia required combats class, you thought as you darted straight through the alleys, the Abyss Mage hot on pursuit. This was the worst time to leave your freaking polearm at your house, you screamed at yourself as you vaulted over empty crates before coming out of another street.

“Look out!” A gruff voice shouted as a sudden wall of black? fire manifested behind you. You heard the icicle melting as it touched the wall and dissipated with it, revealing a figure cloaked in pure black. Back turned to you, the Abyss Mage continued its assault which was now focused on the intruder. And their clash started just like that.

You hopped back when another barrage of icicle rain was summoned. This guy had a Vision(?) but it was something you’ve never seen before, nor had encountered in your classes about the elements. You can’t leave him now, not like this, and so you picked up a slab of wood from a broken crate. Abyss mages have shields yes, you need to break that.

Without a moment’s hesitation, you leaped over the ledge that’s in level with the floating enemy (again, thanks for the acrobatic lessons) and brought down the hard wood over the mage’s head. It produced a sickening crunch as the shield broke under pressure as well as fall through and hit it square in the head! It dropped back to the floor momentarily, and it made you aware that you two were plummeting to the ground.

You pulled your limbs close and braced for impact- “Shit, I got you.” You felt something cold and thin wrap around your body before it guided you to the cloaked person’s awaiting arms, stumbling a bit at the weight. You grunted at the inertia before you met eyes with orbs of red within a shadow, it looked at you widely behind an owl mask(?) and you looked back with a squint. Who?

Your little moment was interrupted when the Abyss Mage started rising from the ground again, slightly swaying from the blow you hit it with earlier. In alarm, you quickly placed your feet down to stand, the chains around you easily slinking away back to the person’s cloak. The man then stands in front of you protectively, cursing under his breath, “You need to leave, it’s too dangerous.” There was a weird strain in his voice now.

This made you scoff, so loud and offended, that you felt the man be taken aback by your response. “You can’t even disable the shield in time,” you ignored the way he seemingly cringed back to this cloak as you stood next to him, slab of wood at the ready, “Don’t worry about me, I had lessons.” Now it was his turn to scoff but relented anyways, as if he knew well enough that you’re not falling back easily.

Batarangs flew from his cloak as it hit the Abyss on the arms and chest, screeching in pain at the unexpected attack. You rushed over and clubbed his hand that held the staff, kicking it far away when it was dropped. A chain then latches around its waist as it was pulled to the cloaked man, who delivered a quick kick to its stomach when it neared, sending it crashing to the wall.

That was so... exciting! You gasped at the thrill of the fight, slightly hopping and clapping at yourself as you smiled at the stranger with the widest grin you had mustered ever since you came back. His gait was tense when walked up to you, past you, in front of you as he looked around for any onlookers or dwellers of the night that had witnessed the commotion. “That was really cool, what kind of power was that? You look like you’ve done this multiple times before.”

You heard the most subtlest sigh when you were sure you whisked away his attention, slowly he turns to his side but not sparing you a direct view. From what you can tell, he wore a LOT of black under that black cloak. “You shouldn’t have stayed,” he started with a sigh as he finally turned to you fully, “Who knows what could have happened-”

“WATCH OUT!” You shoved him by the shoulder as you threw your slab with a force so mighty it broke the face of the mage, immediately disintegrating into ashes and dissipating with the wind. Under you your companion grunted from the pain of being thrown to the floor, and when he looked up, he was scrambling to catch you again.

The icicle impaled through your thigh coaxed out and coated with blood as dark spots danced on your vision from the pain and blood loss. The man pulled you up against his chest, hushed whispers of panic begging you to stay awake as he was wary of the shrapnel still in you.

But you were stubborn. And so you fainted.

The next day when you awoken in your bed, the night before would have easily been passed off as a fever dream if not for the bandaged injury on your leg that had you immobilized for days. When the citizens of Mond finally got a hold of you and asked about the incident, you gave them as much information as you could about your hero,

“He was an unknown hero that appeared at the dark of the night.”

Days passed by and you heard rumors in passing of the one named Darknight Hero. The name made you facepalm.

The faithful day happened three weeks after the encounter with the "Darknight Hero" when you finally recovered from your injury, able to walk around and do your daily rounds of work and deliver the paperwork of the margins of the sales and cost-effectiveness of your family's business in connection to Angel's Share. You had prepared so many documents all hailing from your numerous studies in the Academia, graphs and studies of the data Elzer had expertly combined for you lay in your arms in a bundle of folders.

The tower had to be carried by two hands, and you grunted as you bumped your bottom against the thick door of the tavern, using your hip to swing it open with mighty force. "Ugh, Charles, here's all the economic reports I finally finished after three week-" if not for the man himself, the floor of the tavern would have turned into a sea of papers as your fingers trembled and slackened at the sight.

His towering build, the thick main of red hair, it's all him. The moment the weight from your arms departed, you immediately stumbled over to him, eyes wide and mouth open to call out to him, "Diluc-!" But he flinched away from you instead of meeting you halfway through. And that slight movement halted you in your tracks, eyes wide with horror and pain from the rejection.

Diluc's eyes widened at the change, his gaze passing at Charles before back at you, reluctantly gesturing at your bandaged thigh he spoke, "You should be careful with that injury, don't want it to open up." His voice had a rough edge to it now, deeper yet still veiled with velvety smoothness.

"You're here," your disappointment from earlier was changed from the enlightenment of the situation. His jaw tightened at the sight of the tears that started falling from your eyes, "You're alive!"

Forced away by Charles with the promise of taking over the tavern for the day, you and Diluc took a stroll around the city. Enthusiastic of catching up, you talked endlessly about your years in the Academia and the last two years that you had stayed in Mondstadt before his arrival. Yet opposite of your upbeat chatter, Diluc stayed silent and forward-looking, offering only nods and grunts in between your pauses that asks him if he was still listening. Everytime your hand brushed his when you walked too close, he'd immediately pull his hand back and step away from your personal space.

It was a one-sided conversation. And it ended quickly as it had started.

You stood now at the stairs of the cathedral, overlooking the imposing statue of the Anemo archon. Your location made you remember something, and you opened up another topic, "Your brother, Kaeya told me about what happened four years ago." His apathetic gaze suddenly turned cold as his shoulders tensed. "Diluc, I'm sorry for what happened and-"

"He's not my brother, (Y/N)," you've never thought there would come a day when you'd hear such venom come from his sweet lips. Nor the cold glare that was now in full view, directed at you, "And you shouldn't go around trusting that guy, he's nothing but trouble."

The lump now stuck in your throat prevented you from responding, but you figured you didn't have the chance to do so anyways. As Diluc had ended his warning, he turned away and started walking back to the direction of the tavern, muttering something about work needed to be done.

You tried to reach for his hand before he could have gone too far, but you froze a few seconds away- and then he was gone, out of your grasp, leaving you alone at the steps of the cathedral without a look to spare.

Your cradled your hand to your chest as you felt your eyes water again, the overwhelming distance now opening the truth in your gaping heart as you wept in silence: The promise ring was missing from his hand.

Days had gone by after that where you sat in the background in idle wait, observing as subtle as you can be, hovering around him. The Diluc that you once knew was different from the Diluc who disappeared for four years, and the differences screamed at your face at every one you picked up:

His soft gaze now seems hardened and hooded, as cold as the cryo slimes and as deep as the ocean floor. Whenever you look at them, you always feel as tho he was years away, in a place unreachable. Even when they fall on you, there's a hidden emotion behind them, but they never once softened at the sight of you.

Around his hands were thick gloves of either pure red or another black-red variant. They were rough and never off, hot and grazed with years of use. It was different, so different from the white ones you had gifted him on his birthday. You placed a grape on his palm once and giggled at the memory, expecting him to look at you with recollection, but he only stared at the grape before shaking his head. And he turns away from you to get back at his work.

Diluc's hair was longer than you've ever seen before. It reached past the middle of his back when it had only grew by the shoulder when you've last seen it. It was fluffier and wilder, held up by a ponytail that you can't even see past the thickness. You loved running your hand through it before and Diluc had always felt at ease when you do that; you reached your hand out to touch the ends of his long hair, but he immediately turned to you before you could even feel it on the edge of your fingertips, caught by the cold squint of his eyes. No matter how many attempts, he always managed to stop you.

Another thing that had changed was his wardrobe. There were barely traces of the white knight aesthetic he had when you were still young, no, now he felt shrouded in the darkness of the knight. Made to blend with the shadows, he dons all black besides his undershirt. He resembles no trace of the knight he once was when you look at him.

The last detail you hated the most was the way he had been... secretive to you, and anyone in general. For this reason alone, you barely visited the Winery now, only coming there for business purposes or to converse with the servants that still remembered you. Whenever other matters were to be discussed, you're almost immediately ushered out by one of his men, no questions asked. This had became so commonplace that you started seeing yourself out the moment the air felt unwelcoming.

The more you notice, the more you felt farther away from the Diluc you knew. But this was the same man you loved, and still love. The grief had changed him, the disappearance had changed him, but nothing can change the fact that he was the same person that held your hand when it felt cold.

Speaking of, you clutched the hand you spoke of as you felt the breeze pass by you. The sea of Cecilias danced with an orchestrated flutter, as if singing to you in music of their petals grazing one another. Ah, you realized, this was the same exact place you first met Diluc.

"Is your hand cold again?" He spoke from the table under the gazebo where you delivered the perfectly arranged document. This time you dealt with the matter of tax revenue and compiled the business proposals of those that had attended the party he hosted with the seneschal.

You simply nodded and he sighed. The disappointment breaking your heart into a million pieces, "You should know by now to wear gloves or long sleeves whenever you're out. You must have gotten lackluster due to the climate of Sumeru, you should fix that."

You felt the tears bite at your eyes painfully again. As of recently, you've been crying a lot more than you had ever been in your life. And yet these ones flowed with ease, without a hiccup or a sob, almost liberating. "I'll be leaving for Fontaine tomorrow," the shuffling of the papers stopped behind you, "Flint will be handling the management of the franchise here, I've taught him the necessary computations so you can trust the reports he'll give to the Winery. Mother and father wants me to focus on the expansion of the business, after all."

There was a moment of silence before the shuffling began again and with that pushed the final sword into your heart. You bowed your head, smiling to the Cecilias that caught your tears in their petals, "Thank you for everything, make sure you take good care of yourself, okay?" You didn't know if you were talking to the Cecilias or Diluc.

But you felt lighter than ever, as if the last chain that pulled you down were finally broken.

And you took a small step, and then another, bigger one this time. For the first time since you're back to the city, you finally breathed in relief and without restraints.

Soon you were making distance and you were finally ready to go,

until a gloved hand pulled you back. Your gasp caught into your throat as your head whipped to stare at him, his eyes just as wide as yours. "What," he breathed out helplessly and you've noticed how short his breathing was, did he chase you? "What do you mean? You're not leaving forever, right?"

Forever. You felt the warmth of the gloved ones in your hand squeeze as you saw a faint light return in the depths of his glossy eyes, and you felt it—

The reassurance of your promise, as you squeezed back—

Underneath his thick gloves, red and black, you've finally noticed—

If he hadn't finally let his hand find yours, you wouldn't have felt the ring hidden underneath the cloth.

You beamed at him with eyes full of adoration and pure hope, of a grin pearly white that it almost shone as it caught the sun, he felt burned by it— but before he could escape, he was tackled to the ground with loud laughter.

@boxofteenageideas @creation-magician @your-local-venti-simp @indigodreamtime47

#genshin impact #exile.flower #genshin impact diluc #diluc x Reader #exile.pocketwatch #this may or may not have a part 3 #goodness this took so long and with so many errors #Actually teared up a bit skskskkss #genshin impact x reader

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