Hi, good morning/ afternoon/ evening. I've probably read all of your work on LnD, and I love them all. If it's not too much, can I request like the boys getting a call/update from MC after a disastrous wanderer attack on the city after not being able to contact them?? If possible, established relationship😅 ... thank you for your time!
im glad you like all my writing for them!! im so aefjaweofaw please give me the next main story update - also theres lots of references/imagery of death so if youre not chill w that i will see you tomorrow [salute] - theres also some very very slight references to their myths!! it feels a little ooc to me but thats bc. i think theyd be a little ooc when faced w a tragedy like this!! i hope you like it anyway <3
Zayne holds his breath every time a new patient is admitted. The hospital is busy with all of the patients that are coming in with the disaster, a mixture of those hanging on and people running up to him because he's the closest doctor in the vicinity to confirm death.
He volunteered himself to do triage because he was convinced that he'd be able to stop you from dying, that if you came in through those doors he'd be able to separate his love for you from the mind that studied all those nights but that's impossible - he only got here because of you.
His mind runs circles around himself, almost separated from his body as he tries to figure out why you weren't there. Hopefully it's because you're fine - you don't need medical attention or the medics on site were enough for you. However, he knows there's an equal chance that it's just because a doctor onsite was able to confirm your death and now you were in some bag, stored away with the others waiting for him to come identify you.
When he finally gets a moment to himself he obsessively checks his phone, praying to something that might take enough pity on him to listen at the very least that you'll call him. Minutes turn to hours as he's called back to work. Silence is a commodity now as he's stuck in the theatre, only able to go home after he's exceeded the legal amount of hours he's allowed to work in one night.
The long turned cold water hits his muscles as his mind wanders in the quiet of his home. You still haven't called - nobody's called. He understands that surely, all of you are busy but he's been there when the calls have had to be made. To hear the sobs on the other side of the phone as a squad captain confirms the death of another hunter as they softly ask if they'd like to see the body. He's also seen the calls when the bodies are far too mangled, a sight that no loved one should have to bear. He's waiting for it, almost falling in his haste to grab his phone once it finally rings.
Your number pops up, the letters of your name taunting him as he tries to answer it. He's about ready to throw his phone on the ground from the water on his hand refusing to make picking up the call an easy feat.
"Hello?" Zayne asks, an uncharacteristic shake in his voice.
"Zayne! I'm okay!" you say, voice sounding a little weak but definitely better than he could have ever anticipated.
"Zayne? Honey? Hello?" you ask when you're met with only silence, now beginning to grow anxious yourself. You knew he must have been busy - you were too - and you thought he was safe. He should have been, you'd heard no reports of the hospital being attacked.
"You're alive," he chokes out, falling to his knees.
"Of course I am! Things have just been chaotic so I haven't had enough time to call you until now," you explain, continuing to talk to him.
You hear rustling on the other side of the phone, trying to get his attention again before he cuts you off.
"Where are you right now? Home?"
"Oh - yeah I'm on leave now. Most of us who were in active duty are to let his recuperate. How come?"
"I'll be there soon."
He hangs up immediately, leaving you a little stunned. You decide to clean up a little, having nothing else to do really until he comes over. Zayne never acts this impulsively so you assume that the day with no contact really wore on him.
Once he arrives you open the door for him, planning to apologise for the lack of contact when he almost throws himself at you. You hold him back just as tightly, a little shaken yourself as you close the door after him. You realise that for whatever reason he's soaking, unsure if you should confront that but you decide to ignore it.
He leads you right to your couch, too exhausted to even find your bedroom as he buries himself against your chest. It's not the normal way he lays with you - typically he likes to hold you - but you know not to bother him now. You can't deny you were worried about him too, knowing he probably put in a bunch of overtime at the hospital.
He holds onto you tightly, measuring out the beat of your heart. It's the only way he can remind himself that you're still alive, that the two of you have one more day together.
Xavier has never felt like he wanted to die more than in this moment. One minute you were running with him, trying to stop the Wanderer from attacking the group of civilians the next you're totally gone. Logically, he knows you're most likely fighting a Wanderer by yourself and you can handle it but somewhere he's convinced you'll die without him at your side. You've proved yourself more than capable but he worries about you all the time - he knows how to fight these things, he's been fighting them for far longer than you have - and if you died here he'd have no more reason for living.
He practically goes beserk, tearing into each and every creature with the hopes that one of them can take him to you. With each failure he starts to spiral, standing atop a pile of rubble as he watches the recovery teams start to spread into the city. It practically took an entire squadron to force him to go home, promising him that he'd be the firs t to hear once they found you.
You were diligently following Xavier when you noticed another Wanderer going after a child. You knew that he'd panic once he couldn't find you but you couldn't just abandon them. You tried to tell him you'd be splitting off but over all the screams and screeches he couldn't hear you and you couldn't waste any more time trying to get his attention.
You were able to defeat the Wanderer but not before sustaining an injury that made it too difficult for you to continue active duty, taking the child to a safe spot and staying with them until help arrived. You ended up passing out from the pain shortly thereafter, waking up a day later to Tara in your face heaving a sigh of relief as she called for a doctor to come check on you.
Your body was simply fatigued and after an extra day of monitoring and ensuring you were receiving everything you needed to make sure you wouldn't collapse again when you get home. You nod, knowing what procedure is at this point. You reach out for your phone once the doctor leaves, knowing that Xavier must be worried out of his mind.
You're right, of course. He's laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for someone to call him. He saw the scale of disaster this attack was, knows that everything is absolutely awful and he's not the only one waiting for news but every minute that passes is another minute you could be trapped, praying that he's coming there to save you.
He decides to ignore the strict orders he's gotten, suiting up to go help the recovery efforts. He was going bad staying in bed all day, unable to get a wink of sleep as pictures of your suffering flash across his tortured mind. Working on pulling valuables and any remnants of life is depressing on a good day but right now it's downright torturous. He can't help but think that the next thing he pulls out is going to be your hand, severed far from your body.
When his phone rings everything disappears. He quickly picks up, steeling his expression to avoid making things worse should someone look over at him. He doesn't even notice who called him, just hoping that it was someone with news.
"Oh! You picked up fast. Are you just sitting at home then?" you ask casually, so casually he thinks it's almost cruel. How could you act so nonchalant about the fact that you held his life in your hands, that you are the only thing in this world he can bear to wake up for?
"No, I'm helping the recovery efforts despite orders. I...it was too quiet at home," he offers as an explanation and you hum. He can imagine you nodding, tapping your chin as you think to yourself.
"If you missed me you could have just said so," you tease, hoping that the ease in your voice will make him relax.
"Of course I did. Is that even a question? Are you able to take visitors?' You know what, doesn't matter. I'll just wait there until you are. I'll see you soon love."
He hangs up quickly and you know that he'll appear in the hospital within the next two seconds with that uncanny ability of his. You straighten yourself out a little, knowing that you were injured but not wanting to look like a total mess.
You can hear his footsteps running up to your door, slamming it open as he catches his breath. You've never seen him out of breath before - maybe he's much more tired than you initially thought.
"You made it," you laugh, making a slight sound from the impact of him practically jumping at you, holding you tightly as he buries his face into your neck.
"I was worried about you," he says softly, looking up at you. "I thought you'd been hurt, badly. And I wasn't there to protect you."
You sigh, helping him sit down into the chair at your bedside. You offer him your hand which he holds gratefully, never taking his eyes off of you.
"I know. I'm sorry. But look, I'm okay now, aren't I?"
He ignores the pain in his chest, trying not to imagine how heavy your hand would feel in his if you really had drawn your last breath. That weight is far too familiar to him, haunting his every thought in the hours that passed between then and now.
"You are. And I'm going to make sure you stay that way," he promises.
Rafayel didn't even know there was an attack until far after it. He knew you were working and that sometimes, you'd accidentally go MIA. You'd already texted him before your mission anyway and then he got drawn into another project of his and completely lost track of time. It's not until the next day that he finally sees his phone and the message from Thomas telling him not to come into the city for supplies for a day or so.
He immediately starts looking through articles, scouring pages that are constantly updating the death toll in search of your face. He curses himself for not paying attention earlier - every minute he wasted on some stupid was another minute you could have spent at Death's door, all because he allowed himself to forget that nothing matters if it's not you.
It's obsessive the way he looks through all of them, calling your phone non stop all the while. Every time he gets sent to voicemail he feels his breath get knocked out of his lungs, resorting to blowing up your phone with texts. When it's clear you aren't replying he grabs his keys to drive into Linkon despite Thomas' suggestion, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he heads to the hospital.
Even in all the chaos people can't help but stare a little as Rafayel makes his way to the counter, demanding someone tell him where you were. He's really trying not to be a brat, promising you that he'd be nicer to people but when it's your life on the line everything is up for debate. He goes through any and every possibility, figuring out what he can do to guarantee your survival.
Unfortunately for him, he gets escorted out. Jenna tries to calm him down, telling him that he'd be the first to know if they had any updates on you. Right now everything was just far too messy to know anything about anyone and there was a good chance that you were just being treated at a different hospital than usual due to the high causality count. He doesn't take no for an answer and manages to strong arm the name of the other hospitals you could have been sent to, starting up his car again right as his phone lights up with your name.
"What do you think you're doing not answering your phone?!" he yells, making you flinch.
Rafayel's never been mad at you, certainly not to this extent but you know that it's because he's anxious. He immediately catches himself too and you hear it, catching the sound of his hands against his steering wheel as he takes a deep breath.
"I'm sorry. Just - where are you?" he asks, sounding so exhausted that you feel like crying.
"I'm okay Rafayel," you say instead, adding the name of your hospital. He's immediately driving over as you talk to him, keeping your voice even.
"I was split up from the group is all, then triaged at a different hospital. I'm fine though - I managed to just sprain my wrist from overexertion so I'll have a sling for a bit-"
"You're staying with me then. I'm not having you stay alone with a broken wrist. Knowing you you'd do something dumb and make it worse," he scoffs, trying his best to drive safely to see you again. You don't bother to correct him, knowing that's the least of your worries.
You fall quiet, not sure how to respond. Rafayel has always been good at masking how he feels, rarely showing you what he's hiding behind his mask. Now he's an open book, making it clear that nothing will be okay until he sees you again.
"Okay," you agree, leaning further back into the pillows of your hospital bed. "They wanted me to be released into the care of someone if I could anyway. That's why I was calling you - that, and trying to return all your missed calls."
"Thank you," he says so quietly you barely hear him over the sound of his car.
"Of course my love," you say just as softly. "I knew you'd worry as soon as you saw the news."
Another moment passes between the two of you. Rafayel thinks his heart fell out of his chest - or it would have if it was still his to hold. Instead, it's beating firmly in your palm, only able to do so under your affections.
"Rafayel, I'm really fine, I promise. I'm just hungry. Let's get something for dinner, yeah?" you offer, hoping to redirect his energy.
"Yeah," he replies, exhaling deeply.
"Anything you want my beloved. Just name it and it's yours."
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Hiya, I'm new to the blog but I've loved everything I've read so far! I was wondering if I could request the Dimitrescu daughters (separately) getting saved by a maiden that they thought hated them? Like, maybe a hunter breaks in + smashes a window and the maiden literally carries (or drags) the daughter to safety and refuses to leave their side until they've warmed up.
Maybe the maiden never actually hated the daughters (like a miscommunication/the maiden having a difficult to read expression), or maybe they stopped hating the Dimitrescus a while ago but nobody noticed? Idk, it's up to you, I just think you'd have a fun take on it :3
I went through the anon lists and hopefully I didn't miss any, so if possible can I be sleepy anon? Please and thank you, and have a great day/week!
Hi :)! I’m happy to hear ya like my works :)🙌 Honestly what a cute prompt!
Let’s get into it :) anon name is all yours🙌
Masterlists
Bela
Bela is, a mystery to you
To her, you seem like an enemy. A staff member, yet with a deep hatred towards her
Perhaps, if you weren’t so pretty and cute, perhaps if she didn’t like you in some strange way she is too proud to voice, you would’ve ended up in the basement already
Alas, Bela keeps you safe and only puts you in your place when your work isn’t done properly. She thinks you should consider yourself, lucky
To you, she seems like an uptight boss bent on punishing you for every little mistake
You wonder, what have you done for her to be this obsessed?
She notices every little mistake you make
A true perfectionist, you realize soon enough, and it bothers you to no end
But, unlike her interpretation of you, you don’t hate her. You don’t even really dislike her
She’s just..uptight, a little bitchy, yes. But she’s smart, you’ve come to notice, and quite obviously she is breathtakingly beautiful
Perhaps, if both of your false views and interpretations of one another were out the way, you’d have talked sooner
You would have liked to start a conversation with the supposedly dangerously intelligent and cold eldest daughter of Alcina Dimitrescu
Bela, on the other hand, would have liked getting to know you sooner
Still, she only ever sees false hatred in your eyes that is truly mere curiosity
She has never been all that good at reading people’s emotions
Their intentions? Yes, their facial features? Yes. But still, her books cannot teach her to fully understand humans, people, it seems
It’s a fatal misunderstanding on both your parts, one that this day will clear up, it seems
The day, while not being an ordinary one at all, is not all that unusual to Bela. An uprising, again, though somewhat cute in numbers
Four maidens. Bold, or perhaps only desperate enough, to dare fight back
It’s a pointless fight, a squabble she doesn’t even bother notifying her sisters about
Even with the many knives and utensils scattered around them in the kitchen, the fight seems pointless
That is, until Bela easily dodges a pot that smashes into the fragile window behind her
Immediately, she screams in pain at the cold air rushing in
The three remaining troublemakers spot their opportunity instantly, so it takes less than seconds for the other kitchen windows to be shattered
Bela grits her teeth, one arm wrapped around her protectively, her other hand clutching her sickle
She refuses to tell her sisters. Refuses to allow Mother to hear of this. She can do this! She can’t cause her family trouble. Cassandra would have never let this go on. Daniela would have killed them in seconds. Bela should have never let it come this far, should have prevented the window from breaking..
Throwing herself back into her battle, she strikes one down, but pays the bitter price when two steak knives are sliced and thrust into her thighs
Immediately, she falls, her blood gushing, her limbs aching and as if on fire. The cold immediately finds the large gashes and digs through. The blades of the knives seem icy cold like the terrain outside
She manages to knock one down with her, but as the back of her hooded head hits the windowsill, her vision begins to blur
One more
She tries to call out for Cassandra, hoping, pleading, Mother will hear nothing of this
To her surprise and horror, she finds she can’t reach her sister, too far away for her weakened swarm to detect
She grasps for her weapon, but can’t detect it. Was it lost when she fell? She can’t remember, but tastes her own, foul blood in her mouth
With difficulty, she sees the maiden’s lips moving. She can’t make out what she’s saying, but her expression enough is sufficient to allow her to assume it must be some kind of insult
Pride, cockiness, a human’s downfall
She watches as, seemingly out of nowhere, you stand behind her, bringing Bela’s abandoned sickle down at her neck
It’s messy, and rough, but enough for the woman to drop her weapon and scream. Enough to fall to her knees and enough for Bela to finish her off
Golden, unfocused eyes meet yours. She looks unsure. Worried. Confused. Cold. Hurt. Scared
Never did you think Bela Dimitrescu would feel such things. Never did you think you would truly see a glimpse of humanity in her
But, you have…
You have seen her eyes squint when she laughs with her sisters, seen the faintest hint of a blush and happiness hidden beneath pride when being praised by her mother. You have seen her playful annoyance aimed at her youngest sister
When you close in on her, her first instinct is to lean in. Then, nearly within that same moment, she snarls and pushes herself harder against the cold wall
You hate her. She has no reason to believe you are not part of this attack, or at the very least are now that her weakness is so pathetically displayed
But you don’t approach predatorily
With your hands raised, you gently move closer to her
She watches you closely, her golden eyes watchful even as her body trembles
Slowly, you unwrap the sleeping robe from around you. Is it this late already? Bela hadn’t noticed
The material is thin, but the action shows your intentions nonetheless, and so she allows you to lean into her personal space
A small, quiet gasp passes her lips when you pick her up. Automatically, she sets her hands on your shoulders and wraps the robe tighter around herself
With her vision blurry and the foul taste in her mouth, her bloodied, non functioning legs and aching arms, she doesn’t protest when you keep holding her up and close to you
Your warmth is…comforting
Bela winces a little. She doesn’t want to look up at you, doesn’t want to ruin this perfect moment
After all, when she does look up, what will she see? Hatred? Annoyance? Cockiness?
You pass the fireplace, walk up the stairs
She clings tighter to you, but there are no others in the hallway
All staff members know better than to leave their rooms at nighttime, and even more so in winter, when it is known the residents of castle Dimitrescu are more on edge and easier to irritate
After a little while she notices where you’re taking her- her own room, her safe harbour
She extends an aching arm and closes her fingers around the door knob, helping you open the way inside
She wonders; have you ever been in here? What do you think?
Despite her annoyance, Bela manages to bite down a curse when her cheeks heat up a little
Secretly, perhaps, she wants you to like her room
And like it you do
Bela is every bit the perfectionist you knew she is
But, there is beauty in this
Her shelves are organized neatly. The books placed in them tell you the woman in your arms is fond of just about everything
Information and documentaries of a vast range of topics can be found, from hobbies to animals, to biomes, to sciences
Her bed is made and her nightstand is nearly empty, save for the storybook placed on it
It isn’t opened and sports no mark or so
You assume she hasn’t touched it in a while, but somehow, you correctly guess that it’s meant for the few times her sisters sneak into her room and the story calms their anxious minds
When Bela looks up at you eventually, she gasps quietly at the softness found in your eyes
She stays quiet as you set her down on the bed, doesn’t even wince when you brush aside her hair to have a look at the nasty cut on her head
With the heat of the room, the wounds begin healing slowly
And still, you fuss over her
She hopes you don’t take notice of her dusty pink cheeks and wide eyes when you press your sleeve to her forehead
Your subtle smile tells her differently
Cassandra
She hates you, you’re sure of it
And you hate her, she’s sure
After all, why else would she dump dead, stinking deer in front of your room every single morning?!
Why else would she do this to you and no one else!
Why is she tormenting you? What have you done to her!
After all, why else would you dispose of her beautiful gifts every single morning?
You must hate her!
She feels stupid for gifting you her finest meat every day, but can’t stop, either
Perhaps she can yet woo you, after all
But you dump it off to the kitchens every time! Not even back to her! The kitchens! For common staff!
You must hate her…!
When you pass her in the halls, you do your best to avoid eye contact. Were you looking at her, you would notice her doing the exact same thing
Despite her hatred for you, you are curious about her
She’s beautiful, there’s no question there
With chocolate-coal-brown hair that easily falls down at her shoulders, sometimes curled, at other times straightened, her golden eyes you only sometimes dare gaze upon
She has one lazy eye, and you find it’s the cutest thing in the world. Her features are stunning and you regularly fight yourself to avoid staring at her
At night, at times, you can’t help but wonder what this beauty of a woman would be like curled against you
Her pale, snow-white skin pressed against yours, her face tucked away by your neck, your arms tight around her
Sometimes, you bitterly remind yourself; she would strike. Bite down at your jugular with all her might and drain the life from you
But, perhaps even happily so, you would allow her to
Despite her hatred of you, she has you wrapped around her finger
Despite your hatred of her, you have her wrapped around your finger
A raid at the castle marks the time both your lives are about to change
Raids are, by all means, hardly unusual
While they aren’t everyday happenings, all residents and staff of the castle, even the villagers, know of the foolish men and sometimes women attempting to break into the castle every few weeks or months or so
None are successful, but it seems this never dampens their spirit
But, there is protocol
And so you find yourself hiding in the only room closest to you at the beginning of the raid: the armory
The very armory occupied by Cassandra Dimitrescu
You know protocol, you know to hide in the nearest room, lock it even, and wait it out. Protocol never mentions the case being in which a Dimitrescu sister is near
You hold your breath, but it’s no use. She notices you immediately, and given the current raid at the castle you ought to be happy she doesn’t automatically strike you down
Instead, she holds your gaze for a moment. Your eyes meet a dark gold, more beautiful than anything you have ever seen before
You don’t notice you’re holding your breath until she stretches her arm out, her gloved fingertips pointing towards the back of the room
You understand instantly. A hiding spot, as instructed. Of course
Even as you slide between and behind the large barrels, hide behind the suits of armor standing at the back, you can’t help but keep your eyes lingering on her
Her back is smooth, her hips surprisingly slim
She looks regal, yet lethal in the way her fingers twitch and she grasps the weapon tighter every few seconds
Soon after you’ve slipped into your hiding place and Cassandra started sharpening her weapon- you briefly wonder why it is she stays with you, rather than throw herself into the sure fight happening somewhere in the castle- when you begin hearing shouts ahead
Then, you see them, two men, as they burst into the armory
They’re broad shouldered and sport brown hair and a brown, stubby beard. Thick noses and burst lips adorn their faces. They’re twins, and judged by their clothing, hunters stemming from the village
You hold your breath and shrink against the suits of armor and barrels surrounding you
They sneer at Cassandra, their weapons- two machetes, one each, drawn. They’re wholly focused on her
If they’ve seen you, they pay you no mind at all
Cassandra doesn’t wait for one of them to attack. Instead, you watch as she throws herself into battle
Swarming halfway and masterfully avoiding all incoming attacks from the two intruders, she catches one’s neck with the end of her sickle and reaps chunks of the other man’s clothing and skin from his ribs
You watch as blood forms and drops fast. The man splutters uselessly, stumbling back while the other, though injured, tries to fight back
It becomes clear to you now, why Cassandra is known as the best huntress at castle Dimitrescu
Despite her impressive display, your eyes press shut when the injured man stumbles in your direction
Again, he doesn’t seem to take notice of you, and yet you don’t dare move
Then, a loud bang forces your eyes open and a scream from your lungs
But you are not the only one screaming, and so you are lucky enough to be unnoticed again, for…
Cassandra’s scream was the one outweighing yours, you realise
The woman screams and shakes, her hood torn off to reveal teary eyes and her beautiful, pale skin breaking off slightly
Behind her, you notice the crack in the wall now a large gap. It must have been caused by the explosion you’ve heard
She’s still fighting strong, having finished the already weakened man bleeding out near you
Still, you grit your teeth and watch with wide eyes as the machete of the other connects with her arm. At first, she howls in pain, the noise so desperate and pure you almost cry
Then, the limb falls. You watch as it falls from her and breaks off into what must be hundreds of little flies that curl in on themself as the cold wind touches them
You grit your teeth when the woman stumbles backwards, her back dangerously close to the large gap in the wall. If she was to fall…
The man seems to have the same idea, pushing and swinging his machete around like a madman trying to make her back up into the gap
You decide you can’t bear to stand idle while her fate may be sealed
Slithering from behind the armor and barrels, you yank the other machete from the dead man’s tight grip
In a smooth, albeit difficult swing, the sharp blade meant for monsters connects with the man’s exposed neck, just where Cassandra struck him before
His head tips to the side as he collapses, and you drop the weapon immediately
Cassandra groans and growls madly as you near yourself and push her weak arm wielding the sickle aside
She reminds you a little of an animal with rabies, the way she shakes and growls, and you hope you don’t pay the bitter price for your care
Still, you wrap your arm around her slim hips and pull her towards you, wary of the large piece of broken off wall behind her
She doesn’t fight you, merely keeps on growling and- crying? You can’t be too sure. You didn’t take her for one to cry, but then again, you wince when you nearly step on what used to be her arm
Carefully, you scoop the unmoving flies from the floor and into your pocket
The woman is clearly out of it, her lips parted and sharp, fang-like teeth on display as she snarls and growls over and over again, her screams quiet, but almost banshee like in their shrill tone
You wonder; is she trying to reach her sisters with it? If she is, it’s entirely too quiet and weak of a scream, you decide
You take another gamble and hook your free hand under her legs, promptly lifting the woman into your arms
Again, she snarls and shakes, but makes no move to attack you
That is, if you don’t count her sharp, bloodied nails of her remaining hand digging into your shoulder
And still, you can’t bring yourself to believe this is meant to be an attack
You carry her out the library and the only place you know to be warm; the kitchens near the grand dining room
Cassandra relaxes significantly as you move her to the room, the warm fires and steam warming her sore body
Still, you don’t dare let go of her
When you hold your breath, you realise; she’s almost..purring? That can’t be right
The next thing you realise are the flies, previously unmoving, buzzing in your pocket
You set the woman down on a clear part of the table and retrieve one of them, smiling as it buzzes in your hand
You place a gentle kiss to it, not unaware of the small gasp coming from Cassandra, and release it. Immediately, it returns to the stump where her arm used to be
You repeat the process, kissing flies as they return to her
Cassandra’s thankful for the cold still in her body, for it’s at the very least suppressing her growing blush
You feel her lean against you and cant help but wonder;
Perhaps, she doesn’t hate you
Maybe, you don’t hate her
Daniela
Daniela is almost 100% sure you hate her
You never react to her sly smirks, her cute giggles, the sweet hand resting on your shoulder!
She has tried flirting with you for ages, and nothing!
You’re never rude to her, actually- you’re very kind to her!
You always bring her a flower when your work in the gardens is done
You always braid her hair for her and brush it out after
You make sure her room is clean and her bath is full of bubbles and delicious scents
You always smile when you see her
So why haven’t you kissed her yet!
She doesn’t understand
She’s thrown you so many signs! All she could. But you haven’t acted on a single one
She thinks, you must hate her
And you?
You’re a little…clueless
You like her, so very much
You lie awake at night, your mind occupied by the beautiful, auburn haired woman that regularly visits your dreams and thoughts alike
Sometimes, you dare dream
Could she be yours?
Could you make her happy?
Could she want you?
But is she not with others? So many stare when she passes, you hear the hushed voices either insulting, or praising her
She’s a goddess residing in this castle; what chance have you got?
You try to be close to her, yet never too close
You don’t want to disrespect her, never
You care far too much about her for such a thing
Then, one day, there is an attack
Lycans, they say, a stray pack headed from the village and led by their prey directly to the castle
Of course, the staff is immediately brought and locked away for safety
You are less lucky, having insisted the day prior you’d like to clean out the library
After all, this is where Daniela is known to spend her days…
Now, separated from the other staff members, you have little choice but to stay put
You try your best not to glance at Daniela, who stands with her sickle held tightly. She too heard the alarms, it seems
You grip the fire poker, your eyes still trained on the floor
You wonder; if you looked at her, could you ever advert your eyes again?
It seems, there is little to no time for you to dwell on this thought, for a loud bang and a snarl is all you hear when the door to the library is ripped from its hinges and a furry snout peaks through
Before you have time to react, Daniela grips the lycan already
You watch as she works, no, plays with the wild animal
She spins it and giggles, grips and yanks, breaks and slices
The beast only snarls at her, yet can’t even hope to land even a single claw on her
All goes well, you don’t even think you need to make use of your improvised weapon
Even the snarls and screams from the outside dull. They’re retreating, it seems
Then, however, a gasp is ripped from you when the beast pushes against you. Whether it did it on purpose or was knocked against you, you can’t tell, but you do realise one thing; you’re falling
Hoping to catch yourself, you reach out to grab all within reach
Only, unfortunately, is that a lever
In the next second you feel icy cold wind come down at you and hear the piercing scream of the auburn haired woman next to you
Your hand stretches out, your lips parting as you scream a warning that comes too late
She’s knocked back by the force of the lycan’s gigantic paw swiping at her, thick claws dragging through her dress and soft, pale skin
You feel ill as blood pools at her stomach and the sickle falls from her
She kicks the animal away, yet it looks, and sounds, as though each move only pains her so much more
You realise your own mistake fast and quickly work on shutting the windows again, her scream and your own blood pumping loudly urging you to work faster, faster, faster
When you look to the side, she’s barely sitting up, her bloodied hands and arms desperately shielding herself against the creature
You don’t think, can’t think, won’t take the time to think now
With the fire poker gripped tightly in your hand, you charge
You scream, and it’s met with a pained howl
Thankfully, Daniela must have injured the creature enough for a simple, powerful strike to its heart to finish it off
And still, you feel your uniform slip from you and the nasty, aching pain of the large slashes made at your back
You grit your teeth, ignoring the mark the creature has left on you even as its foulness enters your body
You turn Daniela to find her bloodied and shivering, her flies dropping, her skin seemingly switching between breaking and healing itself
Again, you don’t dare waste time
She watches you through a blurry haze as you wrap your arms around her. She almost tastes your scent
It takes everything not to taste you
She feels her wounds, the pain she has almost forgotten all about. What is pain? This is a nasty reminder
Next she’s lifted to you, her fingertips and face nuzzling your warm skin
You feel her move to you, as close as she could, and all but grant her this
You know now what happened, what you have caused her
And you’re set to fix it. You won’t allow a stupid mistake, an accident, to be it for her
Daniela shivers still as you pick her off the floor and rush through the halls
Yet, all she feels is you. Your warmth. Your heartbeat, loud and close against her ear. She loves every moment of it
She isn’t sure where you bring her at first, until she finds herself set on her bed
When did she get here? She can’t tell. Black dots appear in her vision and her stomach feels slick with blood even as it starts closing up again
You gently cup her cheek, your eyes, so beautiful and worried, checking her over
You notice the little cuts on her face heal and shut nearly instantly, whereas bruises caused by the cold wind stay stubbornly in place
Perhaps, if the cold hurts the woman, the heat could help her, you figure
Daniela whines when you move from her and for a moment you feel your cheeks heat up. Her fingers entangled with yours, her golden eyes wide and hopeful
She doesn’t want you to go. Not now. Even if you hate her
And really?
Neither do you
You only wish to hold her close, to protect the precious creature held so close to you
You wish to cup her face and stroke the soft fingers holding onto yours so sweetly
You want nothing but to nurse her back to health, to know her, really know her
To be here
To make her yours
You watch, the truth laid bare in her eyes. No flirty smiles you don’t understand, no hidden meanings behind words you can’t understand
Her feelings, exposed and shown to you in her bright, golden eyes
You lean down as gentle as you can, and even more so, you press your lips to the flower tattoo adorning her forehead
“I’ll draw you a bath, it will warm you up”, you whisper. Then, you promise:
“I’ll return, iubita mea”
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Have some more language brainrot for your brainrot
Writer reader getting kind of insecure that even if they write something nobody will understand it, so when Al haithem askes you if he can keep a draft or two just for analyzing, there's hesitant agreement but ultimately you tell him to please burn the documents once he's done. They're too awkward to look at now...
Only he doesn't burn them, in fact he ends up recruiting several people close to the creator with knowledge of olden speak to analyze them. A funeral parlor consultant well known for his historical knowledge, a 500 year old shrine maiden who owns and runs her own publishing house, and a bard who somehow butted his way in on the project. None of them could resist the opportunity to witness the creator's sacred scriptures with their own eyes.
Needless to say, the papers ended up being fought over and have been making their rounds around your acolytes. It started with Ei, who insisted that as an archon she also should see the creator's work with her own eyes. Then once Ningguang found out, she ordered they be handed over to a team of literary analysts in order to be properly handled and deciphered. Things got really messy quick, but have luckily come to a halt as none of the acolytes want the creator to know their random writings are being fought over.
Especially when it comes to the creator's sullen additute. Their acolytes first have to convince their holiness that their inability to read and understand the creator's writing shouldn't prevent you from doing what you love. In fact... could they convince you to write some more?
WRITER OR READER WITH TALENTS HAS MY WHOLE HEART LIKE-
On one hand, same 💀 id be terrified for my all time fav skrunklies to see my bs
But at the same time i rlly wanna show them goddamit- THANK U FOR THE BRAIN FOOD IM RUNNING LAPS AROUND MY HOUSE THINKING ABT THIS-
Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them), Writer!Reader
Planet: Language Shenanigans
Orbit: Scenario
Stars: Alhaitham mostly, some of Kaveh, mentions of other Sumeru characters
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Insecure about craft/writing, anxious first pov (not serious),
& Trigger Warnings: Mild Negative self-talk, insecure perspective/reader “you”, possible anxiety depiction.
You were not a very confident writer.
This had been an avoidable feeling ever since you picked up a pen for the first time and were asked to write a story for school.
You were always anxious turning in essays, letting friends proofread them, anything that would expose your writing to more eyes, because you’d learned the hard way early on that as you get older and better at something, the stuff from the beginning… starts to look a lot different than you remember.
things you used to be proud of after having completed them in the moment, were something you struggled not to rip to shreds a year or two after you re-found it.
If it weren’t for other writers advising holding onto old work so you can see your progress over time, you’d have probably literally nothing older than one year on your ao3, wattpad, etc…
So when you had the fortunate luck (no it is not unfortunately, you are very happy to be here tbh) to fall headfirst into your video game you’ve been obsessed with lately,
You were not planning on showing them any of your writing.
Why would you, after all? You’ve got the weapons, the artifacts, everything they need to be more powerful. Why would you show them a silly little story you wrote? Fanfic or otherwise, not that theyll recognize any characters besides themselves, but still.
Alhaitham, bc ofc it was alhaitham, cocky, deviously aware bastard he is, caught you writing in your spare time first.
You’d gotten your hands on an old journal (if made you feel better than something completely new, a nice worn leather journal, sold at a secondhand shop from an old adventurer) and had started to write what you could remember about some of your ideas you’d had drafts for in your old world
After initially walking in on you writing in the House of Daena (it was the closest you could get to lofi girl, god u missed her lmao), you nearly jumped a foot in the air bc Haitham’s a nosy bitch and leaned over your shoulder and scared the absolute shit out of you, mans goes from asking politely, to begging you to let him read some of your writing over the course of 3 weeks (a month really)
Finally, after this 6 ft (about 180cm) man leans down one day (you’re sitting writing again), and gives you the most insanely good?? puppy dog eyes??? you’ve ever seen on a man???
you give in, revise a draft about 5 times in a row, lose sleep bc ur having a breakdown about alhaitham judging ur writing the night before you give him his copy-
and hand over a small short story for him to read. you specifically leave a little note not to judge you so hard for Haitham bc u werent used to people reading ur work/let alone someone as highly academic as him, ESPECIALLY since your speech is already so much more archaic than his/all of Teyvats-
His stupid green eyes with diamonds look into your soul (are they sparkling??) and he braces your shoulders after you give him his copy,
“Mine Greatest Guide, you hath deemed this one worthy of thy trust of your creations personally, I would be a fool to gaze upon it in jest. To take this work as anything less than a masterpiece in its infant stages.”
…you just leave him to it, and are nearly running out of there (u managed to be calm enough to just speedwalk),
and you make a point to not ask what he thought about it, or even bring it up at all
you’re kind of hoping he forgot tbh… and so nothing happens!
◇
Nothing happens… for 2 weeks after you gave Haitham a copy of your short story.
You still don’t know Alhaitham’s opinion when you see the advertisement, a sign saying something about, a new book? By YOU???
You nearly start a mob because the shopkeeper insisted you sign some copies, but you only signed a few before too many people overwhelmed you, and seeing it was that same draft- !! Oh god, you’d been agonizing over the spelling errors you’d missed when you gave it to Alhaitham, and now it’s just out there???
(luckily it seems the reviews are positive, but dammit you’ve been rereading ur story u gave him for days, and now ur positive it’s shit-)
You make a break for it, and are literally running (more like speed-walking after a while, since u got further away) thru Sumeru City:
you pass by the open patio of a restaurant, the scholars are heatedly discussing ur characterization-
you pass by Dehya, Candace, and Dunyazard, the merc is waving around a copy of ur book, the other two women look excited abt the conversation-
oh my god-
Nahida is relaxing in one of the many little gazebos thruout Sumeru, while Wanderer seems to be reading your story to her-
You fucking track down Alhaitham’s house like a bloodhound.
You are banging the infamous gay roommates’ front door, panting til ur throat burns raw.
“Yes, yes, alright, greetings to you too! I was simply visiting the Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham, tis why I’m here- Greatest Lord?!”
Kaveh is nearly jumps a foot in the air at the sight of you, but recovers, (you’re still not tho lmao)
and invites you in bc apparently, Alhaitham’s been meaning to talk to you about your draft you gave him!
Oh yeah, you’ve got some words to give Haitham after giving him that damn draft privately-
But when he sees you, the fucker just- smiles??
Like he’s done nothing wrong???
You’re about to tear into him when he speaks first to tell you the good news!
He grabs your hands at the table and gets down on one knee, ohhhh no.
Alhaitham is giving you those damn begging puppy dog eyes again.
“My Greatest Lord, Giver of Power, and Guide to All, your exquisite story has entranced all of Teyvat, might I please insist you write a sequel? It is an excellent literary piece to analyze… or perhaps, even better, share other stories you’ve written??”
…
….Motherfucker.
☆
Hello I’m alive! I just took a longer-than-usual break between posts from those last 2 mammoth pieces about gifts,
1: bc they were a lot to write in between writing other stuff like fanfics im already working on lol 2: I got busy with holidays and trying to apply to jobs!
Not that I’m still not doing that.. but you get what I mean!
Safe Travels Anon,
That being said, as you’ve probably noticed, I’ve made a kofi! so if you ever liked my writing (hot mess it is) and want to show me some love, feel free to leave a tip! :]
Iced coffee?? :0
💀♒
☆
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche
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