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gloomwitchwrites · 1 year ago

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Winter Gem

Thranduil x Female Elf Reader

Content & Warnings: soft!Thranduil, widowed!Thranduil, fluff, peril & rescue, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.8k

Seeking something precious for Thranduil, you're caught in a storm. When you don't return, he goes searching for you.

A/N: For @firelightinferno

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

“The first snows have arrived.”

“It has come early.”

Thranduil inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Indeed.”

You stand beside Thranduil outside the main gates. Five guards stand nearby but there is no danger. A steady snowfall drifts down from the sky. The snowflakes are slightly gray in appearance, almost like ash on the wind. You frown down at a few of the flakes that land on your leather vambrace.

“You look ready for your hunt,” observes Thranduil, gesturing toward your attire with the tip of his head.

“Yes,” reply softly. “I plan on heading out for a bit.”

His eyebrows rise toward his hairline. “In this weather?”

You glance up from the vambrace and meet his blue eyes. Thranduil’s gaze is startling and sharp. Piercing. Intense. It cuts right down to your heart. His gaze always holds you hostage, wrapping you up in his essence. Most might find Thranduil intimidating, but you know better.

“Is my king telling me I cannot?” You’re teasing him, and Thranduil knows this. His smile is one of soft amusement.

“As long as you return to me. You are free to do as you wish.” Even though Thranduil’s tone is gentle, you understand the deeper meaning.

Thranduil lost his wife many years ago. Other than his son, Legolas, you are his comfort. He wants you to be free, to enjoy the pleasures of life, but he also wants you to be safe, to return to him at the end of every leaving.

Thranduil glances over his shoulder. The guards on duty discreetly glance away, staring off into the distance as if they’ve suddenly found something of great interest. Thranduil leans in and shifts his body to block their view of you. He is close enough that it might appear that the two of you are kissing, but he does not meet your lips.

In the end, Thranduil is private about affection. He does not like to share your tender moments together in front of others.

“Enjoy your hunt. I eagerly await your return.”

You give him a half-hearted, sarcastic bow that immediately puts a wide smile on his face. Thranduil watches you until you disappear into the trees. Perhaps he lingers longer than that, wondering if you will turn around and come back to him.

It is true. You are on a hunt, but not for what he or anyone else is likely expecting.

Over a week ago, Thranduil went out in the woods with some of the guards on patrol. It’s the first time he’s been out beyond the walls in some time. Many patrols that ventured into the northern regions reported back on a strangeness in the air, and the scent of evil. Thranduil decided to investigate.

While tracking, he lost something precious.

Around his neck on a chain, Thranduil kept a silver ring. Within the ring is a precious gem, a blue stone so pale it almost appears white like a burning star. The chain that held it snapped while he and the guards chased a group of spiders that had made their way south.

He remembered it snagging, and while he did not show any distress upon telling you of its disappearance, you also know how much that ring and jewel means to him. It was a gift from his wife when they were newly married. She had a matching one, but upon her death, Thranduil moved it from his finger to around his neck.

This hunt—your hunt—is about that ring. You have a fairly good idea about where it might have fallen, and there is no reason for it to have moved since then. Few enter these woods unless they follow the road, and that is on rare occasions.

Tracking is your specialty, and your time is not limited due to the falling snow. But you’ve tracked in worse weather. The snow is unfortunate, but you can still search as long as it remains at its current pace. The tree cover will keep much of the snow in the higher canopy. There will be time yet before the snow completely covers the ground and you lose the trail.

Heading north, you retrace the path the patrol took. Yes, a week has passed, and nature reclaims much, but not everything is hidden so quickly. There are small disturbances that indicate the path ahead.

As you begin to draw nearer to the area Thranduil mentioned, the snow starts to pick up. It becomes thicker, not staying above in the canopy but instead making its way to the ground. It’s not ideal, but you can manage.

Thranduil mentioned two tree trunks growing together and then breaking apart. When you happen upon it, the snow comes down in thicker sheets. On the ground, it’s sticking. Collecting. Time is running out. Elves have good eyes, and you focus in on the ground, gnarled roots, and underbrush.

Near the base of the tangled tree, you notice a slight sparkle. Approaching it, you go down on one knee, brushing away some of the snow.

“Found you.”

The ring is there, resting in the roots. It appears undamaged, and that is a relief. Picking it up, you tuck it into an inside pocket, protecting it from the elements.

The snow crunches under your boots, and the wind howls. For the first time, you shiver. Cold is not and has never been an issue. Elves can withstand a great many things, including winter weather.

Frowning, you turn into the chilly wind. There is a disturbance. Something dark and foul. It sets the edges of your nerves tingling. A simmering suspicion bubbles up from somewhere within you, question whether this snow is natural or not.

Turning on your heel, you head back the way you came. But the snow is heavy, and your fresh tracks are starting to slip away, returning to the snow. As you walk, the snowfall becomes a storm. The wind whips up, swirling the snow around until you cannot see more than a few feet in front of your face.

Your instincts were right. This storm is not natural. It is too early for it, and storms like these are rare in the Woodland Realm.

The toe of your boot catches in a downed tree branch and you slam face first into the snow. It’s freezing. Temperature isn’t usually a deterrent for the elves, but this is beyond cold. It’s as if you’ve been swallowed whole by a massive glacier.

You walk and walk, and you have no idea if you’ve gained any ground. There are no visible signs, and you’re not sure how far you’ve gone, or if you’re simply walking in circles. The snow is deepening or perhaps you’re imagining it. Everything seems darker, like the world is closing in.

You’re not dressed for this sort of weather.

And you’re tired. So tired. Your knees and thighs burn, and sitting down for some rest doesn’t seem so bad. It’s fine. You can take refugee within the deep roots of a tree. You can stay warm there until the snow dissipates. Then, you can return. Thranduil will understand.

As if opening for you, the roots of a nearby tree expand, showing safety from the storm. You slink into it, curling up into a ball.

You drift in the howling wind. There is a haze that sits on your eyelashes. Whether you dream or not is irrelevant. Numbness oozes into your limbs, and that only forces you to curl up tighter, wanting to pull away from the cold.

A hand touches the side of your head. It is warm. Gentle. The fingers slide up to brush your hair out of your face. You hear your name but it is a whisper. Distant. So far away it doesn’t seem real.

There are arms around you. Lifting. Steady. And when you inhale, the scent is familiar. You know who it is instantly.

“Thranduil,” you murmur, and the answer is a gentle squeeze of your hand.

“I found you, my star.”

There are only short moments of consciousness. There is snow. Cold. The antlers of an elk. The gates of home, and then warmth. So much warmth that the numbness begins to recede.

You are brought back to the living world near a roaring fire. Beneath you is a makeshift bed comprised of pillows and soft blankets. You shift, and feel bare skin against bare skin. Slowly, you push yourself to sitting.

Your leather gear is gone, replaced with a soft robe that traps in the heat.

“You’re awake.” Thranduil’s voice is a gentle, comforting hug.

Turning toward his voice, you watch as he glides across the floor. Thranduil wears silver robes of starlight. In his hands in a small tray. On it is a steaming cup of tea and an assortment of food. Bending at the knees, Thranduil settles in beside you, placing the tray down on the blankets.

“You came looking for me,” you say, and your voice nearly cracks with emotion.

“Did you think I would not?” he asks, arranging the food around on the tray.

You know, deep in your heart, that Thranduil would come, but you also believed in your abilities as a tracker. “When did you start to worry?”

Thranduil lifts the cup off the tray and presents it to you. “When the storm picked up. Something about it felt unnatural.” You take it, and bring the warm beverage to your lips. “I gathered some guards and we set out. It is good that we found you in time.” He pauses. “I’m not sure my heart could take any more loss.”

The heat of the tea spreads throughout your body, the chill slipping away quickly. “I do believe you are correct. That storm was not natural.”

Thranduil nods. “There is a growing darkness to the north. The scouts on patrol have spoken of it often but have been unable to get close enough for more details.”

“Perhaps I strayed too close,” you murmur.

“Perhaps,” replies Thranduil, reaching out to take your hand. He lifts it, and brings it into his lap. Using both hands, he rotates your wrist until your palm faces the ceiling. Then, he guides your open palm to his lips, placing a soft kiss in the middle of it.

Instant warmth shoots out from that spot, running down your arm and piercing your heart like an arrow. Slowly, he curls your fingers in, creating a loose fist, and then brushes his lips against your knuckles before pulling away.

He does not release your hand. “I know why you left.”

“Thranduil—”

“You did not need to explain. I understand why.” Thranduil reaches out and cups your cheek, turning your face toward him. “I am thankful that you found it, but you are also precious to me, and losing you is a far greater loss.”

You turn into his touch. “That ring is important to you.”

“Many things are important to me. But the ring is just that. A thing. You are breathing. You are here. I would like to keep it that way.”

Your eyes drift close and you revel in the warmth of his touch. “Are you mad?”

“Never.”

“Will you hold me?”

“For as long as you like.”

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @ninman82 @therealbloom

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zvtara-was-never-canon · 11 months ago

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Can you give examples of Aang showing Empathy? Oh wait, you can't.

Actually, I can - because unlike you, I base my opinion of the characters on the actual stuff that happened in the story, not the bad faith takes dumb people on the internet come up with.

Zuko literally only survived past book 1 because Aang was the ONLY person amongst the heroes that gave a single fuck about his well-being. Aang offered to be FRIENDS with him as early as episode 13, even though this dude is trying to kidnap him.

In the first damn episode we see him realize and try to remedy Katara's struggle with no longer being able to act like a kid and have fun. He wants to travel with her so SHE gets to learn waterbending. He willingly lets Zuko take him into his ship because he understood that a conflict could lead to the people of the water tribe getting hurt or killed.

In Warriors of Kyoshi he apologizes to Katara for letting all the praise and admiration go to this head. He makes sure to put out the fires Zuko and his crew started in Suki's village.

He tries to help remedy the Hei-Bai situation, even though he is unsure of himself and even scared, because he knows he is the only one that has any chance of helping - and the thing that allows him to connect with Hei-Bai is the fact that he is ALSO upset about the destruction the Fire Nation has caused AND hopeful that the world would eventually heal.

He thinks Jet is awesome because he wants to help people that are being oppressed by the Fire Nation - and then is horrified when he finds out his intension is to "free" them by killing everyone

He wants to help the two rival groups not only safely cross the Great Divide, but also stop hating each other.

He confesses that he hid the map to Hakoda because Bato, Katara and Sokka are showing how much they appreciate and trust him and he feels unworthy of it after what he did because he knows it'd hurt him if the roles were reversed.

He is so devastated by the fact that he ACCIDENTALLY hurt Katara that he swears to never firebend again. He is also able to recognize the same principle behind his mistake in Zhao's fighting style, allowing him to win the battle against the bastard.

He accepts the fact that the Northern Air Temple is now occupied by people who not only don't belong to his culture but also don't understand it and unknowingly destroyed something sacred to him (and that one of them had been forced to make weapons for the Fire Nation) because these people have nowhere else to go and he doesn't want them to suffer.

He is furious at Pakku for refusing to teach Katara waterbending, because he knows how much it'd mean to her and how unfair it is that she can't learn it just because of her gender.

He is so devastated by the death of the Moon Spirit that the Ocean Spirit latches onto him to avenge it and save the day - and the leve of destruction it causes haunts Aang, even though the violence was against his enemies. And still, he tries to go into the Avatar state again because people are dying and he can't accept that.

After the fall of Omashu, he wants to rescue Bumi, not because he needs a teacher, but because they're friends.

He felt empathy for Toph when she was explaining to her parents how lonely and unappriacted their over-protection made her feel.

He and Katara both feel bad for snapping at Toph during "The Chase" and wanted to apologize for not understanding that being part of a group was a radical change to her, even though she had refused to even try. He also didn't have a problem with fighting alongside Zuko and Iroh against Azula, AND he looked concerned when Iroh was injured.

After Katara comments on the fact he called Toph Sifu but not her, he calls her Sifu while bowing, to show that he respects her both as his master and friend.

The hopelessness and downright depression he was feeling after Appa was stolen only starts healing because he saw a couple being happy with their newborn baby - the same couple he decided to help cross the Serpent's Pass, even though he and his friends had just been allowed to take a much safer route to Ba Sing Se.

His understanding and sympathy towards Jet, even after everything the guy did, was so strong that it freed him from literal brainwashing.

He doesn't want to push his love for Katara aside to gain power because he cares about her too much - and then does it anyway because, even though not making her his main focus 24/7 offers the risk of her being hurt, him neglecting his mission guarantees she'll get hurt.

He is devastated to learn that the world thinks he is dead because he knows he was everyone's last hope - and yet in the end he still accepts the burden of failure because he understood that, at that moment, everyone would be safer if no one else knew he was still alive.

He goes to a Fire Nation school and bonds with the kids, wanting to give them a taste of freedom and joy, as well as trying to understand what the war is like from their perspective. The same episode also has him pull Katara for a dance because he noticed she was feeling left out.

The boy felt empathy for, and understood the mistakes of, both Ruko and Sozin. SOZIN. Aang could see the humanity in the monster that is responsible for him losing his entire culture and everyone he loved.

When Zuko spoke about wanting to control his impulses so he wouldn't accidentally hurt anyone, Aang explicitly connected with that struggle and saw them being teacher and student as fate, and Zuko agreed because that's how deep their connection was.

Aang is not happy about Katara wanting to murder a man, but he still lets her take Appa on her mission and is not disapproving when she ultimately spares the guy but does not forgive him and makes it clear she never will.

He feels empathy for freaking Ozai, to the point that refuses to kill the guy - even as he has the balls to say that Aang's family, his people, deserved to die. He spared that guy - but only after he had a way to do that without it meaning the death of more innocents. Aang, the pacifist, was going to turn his back on everything he believed in just to avoid more human suffering.

So yeah, miss me with your bullshit and don't come back until your brain is developed enough to understand a cartoon aimed at kindergarterners.

#anti zutara #pro aang

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opencommunion · 2 months ago

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"An Israeli strike on Sunday killed at least 23 people, including seven children, and wounded six others in Almat, a village in Lebanon's northern Jbeil district, the Lebanese health ministry said.

The ministry said the death toll is likely to rise as rescue workers continue to search for victims under the rubble. It added that body parts retrieved in the aftermath of the attack would undergo DNA testing to identify them.

In south Lebanon, three medics were also killed in an Israeli strike that targeted a Civil Defence vehicle of the Islamic Health Authority in Adloun, in the Saida district. The ministry condemned Israel's repeated targeting of paramedics as a 'war crime.'

Earlier, Lebanese media reported an Israeli strike on a house in the historic eastern city of Baalbek, which was not preceded by an Israeli army 'evacuation' warning.

For the past two days, the Israeli military has conducted a series of air strikes on southern and eastern villages and locations.

Overnight, more than a dozen Israeli air raids struck the southern suburbs of Beirut, known locally as Dahiyeh, where many buildings have now been almost entirely flattened by nearly two months of heavy bombardment.

On Saturday, Israeli air strikes on southern and eastern Lebanon, including Tyre and the Baalbek-Hermel region, killed at least 40 people, including several children.

More than 3,130 people have been killed in Lebanon since fighting between Israel and Hezbollah began in October last year, according to Lebanon's health ministry, most of them since September 23, when Israel launched a wide-scale bombing campaign across Lebanon and a ground invasion."

#lebanon #zionism

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jawad111 · 10 days ago

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Help us evacuate from Gaza🙏

Hello everyone, I am Karam, one of Jawad’s sons from northern Gaza, displaced in Deir al-Balah, and I live in a tent with my family

My house, once a symbol of hope, was reduced to nothing more than broken walls and rubble. I had just finished building our house, a place where I finally felt safe. But in the blink of an eye, everything was destroyed due to the ongoing war. The air was filled with the sounds of explosions, and I ran away with nothing but the clothes we were wearing. And now, where our memories and dreams once lived, all that remains is destruction.

The ongoing war in Gaza. We lost our home, our career, and our sense of security. Now we live in a small tent, trying to survive every day amidst the chaos and destruction. Before the war, I was working as an educational designer, building a future for my family. But that life was shattered. We are now desperate to find safety and start over. But we need your help. We are trying to raise money to escape Gaza and rebuild our lives in a place where we can finally find peace. Before that - this was my life before the war, full of hope and promise.

“I need your support more than ever. Please, if you can donate, any amount will help. If you can't, sharing our story is just as important. Every repost and donation brings us one step closer to safety and rebuilding our lives.

@90-ghost @heritageposts @gazavetters @neechees @butchniqabi abi @fluoresensitivearchived @khangerinedreams @autisticmudkip @beserkerjewel @officialspec2 @palhelp @batekush @appsa @nerdyqueerandjewish r @butchsunsetshimmer @biconicfinn @stopmotionguy @willgrahamscock @strangeauthor @bryoria-annafaye-hall-blog @shesnake @legallybrunettedotcom @lautakwah @sovietunion @evillesbianvillain @antibioware @akajustmerry @neptunerings @dlxxv-vetted-donations @vague-humanoid @buttercuparry @sayruq @sar-soor @northgazaupdates2 @feluka @dirhwangdaseul @jdon @ibtisams-blog @sawasawako @memingursa @schoolhatergirl @ot3 @lapithae @ryo-yamada @opencommunion @anneemay @killy @schooloutfitideas @bisexualr2d2

#gaza strip #norfamaily35 #gaza gofundme #gravity falls #halloween #inktober 2024 #monster prom #palestine fundraiser #pedro pascal #professor layton

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dottores · 1 year ago

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HELIOTROPES: A SIDE STORY

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding, brief mention of alcoholism and implied child abuse (not to reader), totally unedited (didn't have time! sorry!) reminder that segment list is on the masterlist if needed!

notes: THE BDAY SIDE STORY IS HERE, sorry i couldn't get it out on time i've been so busy i literally did not have the time to format or do anything sobs but i hope u guys enjoy because i had so much fun writing it. i originally came up with the idea for milk's bday a few weeks ago hehe. i rlly love it because it gives more background into reader and some of my fav segments (minus theta </3 he didn't make it in this one. but perhaps i shall do a christmas side story and make him the star).

THREE TIMES THE SEGMENTS MET YOU WITHOUT REALIZING IT, AND ONE TIME THEY DID.

I. THE KAPPA SEGMENT & THE EPSILON SEGMENT; READER, AGE 6

You were cold. Soft puffs of air left your lips, shaky and weak. You were curled up in a ball on the ground, and a part of you knew that you needed to move but you couldn’t bring yourself to, your limbs felt as if they were iced to the ground—maybe they were, you could barely even pry your eyes open to check.

The storm had died down, brief and brutal as they usually were, but you had been unable to find shelter before it hit. The town had to be close, you could hear people leaving their homes to fix up their properties from destruction of the harsh winds. It was only a matter of time before someone spotted you curled up on the ground, you were wearing a bright purple cloak. Your mother would find you, she would come to your rescue, she’d bring you home and make some hot cocoa for you just like you guys used to do during the bad storms before your father left for Fontaine City.

It felt like an eternity. It might’ve been an eternity, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was that everything was cold, and you felt sluggish and slow, and you were starting to struggle to breathe because the air felt like icicles scraping at your lungs. You were tired, you could feel yourself falling asleep but living on the northern border, you knew better—you had to make it somewhere warm before you fell asleep, otherwise you might not wake up.

But you couldn’t move, you thought you should feel scared and you thought you should definitely be crying but you couldn’t even do that. And as the minutes passed, slow and agonizing, you began to question whether or not someone would find you in time. The more those doubts began to surface, the more appealing the relief of sleep became—at least if you slept, you wouldn’t have to wait out these freezing and harrowing minutes alone. You could dream of your mother and father, of Sylvie and Elliot, maybe you would even dream of your soulmate. You heard that some people who were favored by the gods had dreams of their soulmate well before they ever met.

Your weak breaths began to even out as you gave into the lull, but just as you were on the verge of falling asleep, you heard it—the crunching of snow, fast and loud heading in your direction. You forced your eyes open now, whimpering as the ice and snow caked on your face ripped at your skin painfully, and through little slits, you watched a figure dashing toward you.

At first, you thought it was your mother, wishing you could cry in relief because of course she found you, she would always find you. She would always come to your rescue. She would wrap you up in her arms and cry at you for being such a fool, but you knew she would just be happy you were okay.

But as the figure drew closer, you realized that it was far too small to be your mother—you thought maybe it was Sylvie or Elliot, rushing ahead to get to you and maybe your mother was right behind them, but again, you were proven wrong as an unfamiliar boy knelt at your side, red eyes wide and silvery-blue curls hanging in his eyes as he peered down at you.

He pressed his hands against both of your cheeks, as if to warm you up, but you thought it might’ve made it worse, because with the small bit of warmth against your skin and the feeling of someone else’s touch after being alone so long in the blizzard, you found your eyes drooping shut again, being lulled to sleep far faster this time.

At once, the boy ripped his hands away and you could hear him pulling off his own cloak. He wrapped it around you tightly tucking one of your arms inside the thick material but hesitated before stuffing your other arm in there too. You forced your eyes back open, watching as he stared at your hand in confusion, and you parted your lips to ask what he was doing but no noise left them besides a wheeze of cold air that had ice slicing down your windpipe and your body shuddering in pain.

Noticing your reaction, he put your arm into the cloak. He stood up, and you wondered if he was going to try to lift you himself, or leave you, but then another voice reached your ears, loud and tired, calling a name that you couldn’t quite make out but it had the boy lifting his arms and waving them frantically.

A few moments later, there was a new figure kneeling next to you, brows furrowed as he looked down at you. “How did you get out here all on your own in this weather?” he murmured more to himself than you, and careful to keep you wrapped up in the small one’s cloak, he took his own off and wrapped you in that one too, easily lifting you up into his arms.

He was a stranger, and you knew you shouldn’t feel so comfortable in his arms, but you couldn’t help the way you leaned into his chest, basking in the warmth and relief of having been found, even if it wasn’t by the person you wanted it to be. You started to doze off again but found yourself disrupted as he jostled you in his arms suddenly, eyes blearily reopening to give him a confused look.

“No sleeping,” he warned, giving you a steady look before motioning for the boy to follow him as he brought you into the town.

He took you to the inn, bustling with people who had taken refuge from the sudden storm, and immediately the innkeeper recognized you, gasping as she hobbled over to the man and led him in the direction of the fireplace, shouting for people to go fetch your mother or stepfather. He placed you down on the ratty couch of the inn, keeping you nestled inside both cloaks before pushing it as close as possible to the fireplace.

He stepped away and at once you felt cold again—not physically, but mentally. Empty in a way that you’d never experienced before. You wanted to tell him to come back but you still couldn’t speak, your throat hurt and your lips still felt numb.

The boy lingered for a moment, standing in front of the couch and staring at you as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t—much like you.

“Come, Kappa,” the man who saved you said just as you finally began to drift off to sleep with the warmth of the fireplace next to you and the weight of their cloaks pressing down on you. “She will be fine. Delta is waiting, you know how he feels about wasting time.”

You could only watch them leave, confused as to the warmth you felt when you were wrapped up in his arms—you knew it was different than normal but didn’t know why—and Epsilon never noticed the thread tied neatly around your finger, which was hidden by his and Kappa’s cloak. Kappa, mute and anxious, was unable to force the words out of his mouth as Epsilon held his wrist and led him from the tavern away from you.

II. THE IOTA SEGMENT; READER, AGE 11

You shuffled through the streets, sniffling and wiping at your eyes with baggy sleeves. You were getting odd looks from all around, wondering why an eleven-year-old was wandering around the streets alone wearing clothes that were far too big for her body. You had stolen Wriothesley’s jacket and gloves to cover your nice dress and the rings adorning your fingers, you probably should have taken them off before leaving the palace—the last thing you needed was for your mother to yell at you for losing her grandmother’s pearl ring and the city was out of control with pickpockets the past few months.

It had already started raining, much to your displeasure, you remembered the prophecy that spoke of the day Fontaine City would be drowned by the gods and not for the first time, you wished that the day would just come already. You were so tired of dealing with your stepfather, and you hated the way he looked at you, and you hated how now he was even turning people against you and your father.

You were supposed to have joined your mother and siblings in visiting your uncle for dinner, but instead, your mother had made an off-handed comment about how you should go spend some time with your father and grandfather instead, and you knew it was because your stepfather must have said something to your uncle. You didn’t know what, you had never been close to your uncle but you’d thought that since he was still family, he wouldn’t care for the words of an outsider.

But you should have expected this, in Fontaine, nothing came above the word of a person’s soulmate, Celestia’s gift to humanity. Of course he would believe your stepfather, because your stepfather was his sister’s gift from the gods—he only ever wanted the best for her, and he had somehow convinced your uncle that you, her own daughter, were not the best for her.

Another sob bubbled at your lips, you pressed the sleeves of Wriothesley’s jacket to your mouth to muffle it. You wondered if your mother thought you were stupid, that you wouldn’t know what she really meant, but of course you knew. You spent too much time just observing people to not know. You didn’t have any friends to talk to besides Wriothesley, and Wriothesley was always busy. All you could do was sit around and observe until you got bored.

Maybe you should have just gone to your father or grandfather and tell them what happened, but you knew if you did that, they would be livid and it would escalate things even more, and you were the one that would deal with the backlash of that, not them. So instead you went to Wriothesley, and stole his jacket and gloves, and refused to tell him what happened before you fled from the room to leave the palace.

Just as you were about to turn the corner, you slammed into a figure and hit the ground hard, crying even more when mud splattered all over your face and into your mouth. You tried to wipe the mud off of your face through choked sobs but now the gloves were covered in mud too from you trying to catch yourself, and you only smeared it even worse.

“Oh.”

It was a young boy who you had slammed into you but you couldn’t make out his facial features through your blurred vision. You were caught off guard when he was suddenly pressing his cloak against your face, using it as a rag to try to wipe off the mud. It didn’t help much, all he did was smear it around more because his cloak was drenched, but it had at least cleared your vision.

“... Better?” he said hesitantly, looking down at you.

You sniffled a bit, using the clean part of Wriothesley’s jacket to wipe at your eyes before you nodded, but you didn’t stand up from where you were sitting on the ground. You didn’t want to. The boy leaned in a bit closer, frowning, “Are you… crying?”

“I am not,” you denied immediately, but your voice betrayed you, cracking and breath shuddering over another sob. The boy looked suspicious. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not!”

“You are.”

“Not!”

“Yes, you are!”

“I am not!”

You glared at him.

He glared back.

Then he sat down in the mud next to you, plopping down hard and splattering mud all over you again.

“Are you crying because you fell because of me?” the boy asked.

“‘m not crying,” you muttered, but with far less vigor this time. When he only stared at you, red eyes wide and earnest as he waited for an actual response, you finally said: “My stepfather is mean to me.”

“Oh,” the boy said in response, and the two of you just sat there for a moment, ignoring the way people kept giving you strange looks. Then, he reached up and patted your head, getting mud in your hair and on your forehead. Your brows furrowed as you stared at him, trying to figure out what he was doing, but he looked just as confused as you. “The Doctor pats my head when I get sad sometimes. It makes me feel better. Do you feel better?”

He drew his hand back swiftly into his lap, as if the single touch had poisoned him, and then you noticed how he was sitting with a large space between the two of you, the hand that had touched your head trembling and his body stiff. You wondered if he was like Wriothesley, Wriothesley used to get scared whenever people touched him, even just a kiss on the cheek or a pat on the head, and he never initiated contact with anyone else—you were pretty sure it was because his grandfather drank a lot, and when he drank a lot, he hurt people but whenever you asked your father, he said it was none of your business. But your father didn’t like Wriothesley’s grandfather, and you supposed that said enough, your father liked pretty much everyone. And then, realizing he might be like Wriothesley, you felt sad because he still tried to make you feel better even though he was scared.

“I feel better,” you said quietly.

He smiled, brightening up a bit, but just as he was about to say something, you heard your name being called, loud and panicked. Your eyes turned up to where Wriothesley’s father was rushing through the rain in your direction, a few of his men following close behind.

At his side, Wriothesley was with him, looking guilty as he refused to meet your eyes.

“Traitor!” you cried at Wriothesley as his father gently hauled you out of the mud to your feet. “I don’t want to go back there!”

“He was worried, little one,” Wriothesley’s father patted your head, voice quiet as he spoke. “We all were. The city has been dangerous lately, you cannot go running off on your own. Your father just about had a heart attack when Wriothesley came to us and told us that you took his jacket and left the palace grounds.”

Wriothesley’s father pulled off the muddy gloves and coat to drape his own cleaner one over your shoulders—if he had been a second faster, maybe Iota would have caught sight of the thread tied to your finger before he ran off to get back to Delta.

III. THE GAMMA SEGMENT; READER, AGE 16

You had made it your goal to attend every festival you possibly could across all of Teyvat. The music festivals of Fontaine were an easy tick to your list, but it had taken a lot of convincing to get your mother to agree to the Lantern Rite Festival of Liyue. With you, Sylvie and Elliot combined though, it was impossible for her to say no.

It was all you’d been thinking about for days now, and as you walked over the bridge to enter Liyue Harbor, you thought the city might’ve been the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen, eyes drawing upon all of the decorations and stands—it was dark out already, but somehow the city was still completely lit up and alive. People were singing and dancing, chatting loudly and laughing.

It reminded you of Fontaine City before the curfews were set and you were confined to the palace.

“Look at all of the lights,” Sylvie whispered excitedly, tugging at your arm as she pointed to the lanterns decorating each corner of every building.

“They say that they release thousands of lanterns at the end of the festival into the air,” Elliot said, squinting as he dipped his head down to see the words of the book he was reading. “They send their soldiers traveling throughout Liyue to collect all of them after Lantern Rite ends.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to release one?” Sylvie asked, bouncing in her feet as she turned to look at Elliot, who just shrugged. “Can we go explore? Please, mother.”

Your mother looked tired from all of the traveling, sharing a look with your stepfather before nodding. “We’re going to go check in at the inn we’re staying at. Be sure to meet back here before nightfall, we have reservations at the Xinyue Kiosk tonight.”

Delighted, you lit up, watching as your stepfather told Elliot and Sylvie to go buy themselves a kite from the Toy Shop before handing them each a pouch of mora. You should’ve known better, but still, you glanced at him after Elliot and Sylvie ran off in opposite directions. His eyes glazed right over you as he held your tired mother by the waist and led her off in the direction of the inn.

Your smile faltered but you refused to let it ruin your mood—you were in Liyue Harbor during Lantern Rite. You weren’t going to let him make you sad, you had your own coins anyway that you got from tutoring the Beaumont kids. Instead, you rushed off across the bridge and down the street, in the direction of the main area of the city.

There were people everywhere, all of the shops stayed open, your smile widened as you watched a bunch of kids Elliot and Sylvie’s age run around with kites in their hands, ignoring how the adults were chiding them for doing it while the streets were so busy.

You peeked around at some of the market stands, tempted to try some of the food but you figured that you’d get yelled at if you filled yourself up before the reservation, knowing that your mother spent a lot of time and mora getting someone down to Liyue a few months ago to make sure you guys were put on the waitlist.

Instead, you found yourself in front of a jewelry shop, looking through the glass windows at the gemstones perched up on pretty purple cushions. They were already sold out of Emeralds, Topazes and Agates, but they had a full stock of Turquoises, Jades, and Diamonds. Distantly, you wondered who the hell was going to buy Diamonds from the jeweler, knowing that the rest would at least be bought by people with a vision.

Your eyes narrowed, and just as disappointment was about to hit you, you caught sight of what you were looking for:

Varunada Lazurite.

Your gaze shot open in surprise—the gemstone was always sold out in the Land of Hydro with so many people who had hydro visions living within the city. You had managed to get your hands on three chunks the last time the shop near the palace restocked, even though you had to wait in a line for nearly twelve hours to make sure you were the first one there after the restock. You had thought you’d have to wait another month or two for a chance at obtaining the other three you needed.

But right there were the three brilliant and shiny chunks of Lazurite you needed tucked in the corner of the glass box. Excited, you realized that you wouldn’t have to wait as long as you thought—once you got home, you’d be able to grab the three you already had and crush them down into dust with your father for the second-to-last vision ceremony, to give you the increased connection with your hydro energy that you needed to finally start learning your family’s passed down hydro art.

Then, you would start the long process of trying to acquire the full gemstones, which were far more expensive and rarer than the chunks.

“Unless you’re going to buy something, I suggest you move on. You’re holding up my customers,” the woman behind the stand said boredly.

“How much for the three chunks of Lazurite?” you asked, raising your chin.

She only quirked her brow upward. “Forty geo sigils each.”

“Geo sigils?” you gasped, eyes wide and lips parted as your elation immediately disappeared.

How were you supposed to get geo sigils? You weren’t a Liyue native, you had no way of knowing how to find them. You barely even had any Hydro sigils and you were from Fontaine.

“You’re a foreigner?” the woman asked, squinting her eyes a bit as she looked you over. You nodded, and she sighed heavily. “Very well, seventy-five thousand mora. Each.”

You blanched, knowing in your heart that she was ripping you off. Forty geo sigils was worth closer to sixty-thousand than seventy-five thousand but you weren’t going to argue that when she was doing you a favor by taking the common currency for you already.

Defeated, you asked: “Do you take bank checks?”

The woman nodded, and you pulled out one of the Northland Bank check slips that your mother had given you a few months back—it was your stepfather’s, he was the only one that had a bank account with the Northland Bank, and you figured that he would be mad when he realized you’d spent over two-hundred thousand of his mora on your Lazurite chunks but you thought that he deserved it, and signed the check happily after making it out to Mingxing Jewelry.

She handed you the bag with the Lazurite chunks and thanked you for the business. Smiling to yourself, you made your way down the street again, this time looking for Sylvie or Elliot.

You got no further than a few yards before someone slammed into you, sending you both sprawling out to the ground.

All the air left your lungs as a heavy weight dropped onto your stomach, scrambling off of you almost immediately, panicked. Your eyes met a pair of red ones and a face flushed pink in embarrassment, burn scars decorated the upper half of his face and for a moment, you thought he was familiar from somewhere. He was around your age, you couldn’t help but notice.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “Sorry, I was just-I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m looking for someone and-”

“It’s-” You began to say ‘it’s fine’ but the words died on your tongue when you realized that the bag you were holding was significantly lighter. You shot an accusing look at him, thinking that he had pickpocketed you but as you did that, your eyes caught a glimmer from the corner of your eye.

The Lazurite.

You rushed toward it, but not fast enough, only able to watch as a small child darted through the crowd to steal the shiny object.

“Hey!” you shouted angrily, glaring back furiously at the boy who had bumped into you, who looked even more humiliated now, pressing his knuckles against his mouth as if refraining the urge to gnaw at them. “Look at what you did!”

You didn’t even spare him another glance, ignoring his apologies and his offers to help you get it back as you gave chase to the child who had stolen your seventy-five thousand mora gem.

You hadn’t noticed the warm feeling that had swept through you when he had crashed into you, nor had Gamma noticed the thin red thread wrapped around your finger in his panic.

IV. THE ZETA SEGMENT; READER, AGE 19

The Windblume Festival.

You smiled as you stepped into Mondstadt City, the beams of the sun washing over you and a gentle breeze sweeping through the city. You had heard that Anemo Archon makes the days of the Festival the most beautiful that the city sees all year—you had doubted it, partially because the Hydro Archon thought it was the greatest entertainment to douse the city in rain and storms whenever the music festivals were taking place. It never deterred them, the musicians would always play on even through the rain and thunder, but you had never quite experienced a festival like this, even during Lantern Rite, you had been unlucky with dreary clouds draped over the harbor.

You didn’t even know where to go first, you were so overwhelmed with all of the colors and all of the people and you thought you shouldn’t be, you should be used to crowds by now, but you’d spent so much time locked up in the palace after your father’s death that you were getting anxiety just being in the vicinity of so many people.

Your father. Your throat felt tight just as the reminder of him. He was supposed to be at Windblume with you—he had promised to bring you last year knowing how excited you were to see all of the nations’ different festivals, but he’d died before he could. You hadn’t even been able to bring yourself to go without him, but you forced yourself to go this year, to enjoy it for the both of you.

And you couldn’t enjoy it with such a cloud of gloom hanging over you, so you squared off your shoulders and pushed away all of the dark feelings, forcing the small smile back onto your face as you made your way into the city, although it wasn’t quite as bright as before.

You sighed as you made your way up the steps to the city’s main square. There were kids dancing to the music of a bard and flower stands set up all around the fountain in the center of the square. You wanted to buy one to give to someone, as per the Windblume tradition, but you didn’t have anyone to give it to. Sylvie and Elliot were supposed to have joined you for the festival, but their stepfather forbade them at the last minute, forcing you to attend the festival alone.

You looked around, eyes falling upon where a pretty woman with brown hair and green eyes was leaning into a tall blonde woman, and next to them, where a shorter blonde man was being dragged to the center of the square by a little girl dressed in red, who was pointing excitedly to a stand somewhere behind you.

“Are you waiting on someone?”

You jumped at the unfamiliar voice, turning to the side only for your eyes to fall upon a handsome man with dark skin and blue hair. His lip ticked up a bit as you studied him, and a bit embarrassed, he added: “Sorry. I was just wondering, you’re not from Mondstadt, are you?”

“Is it that obvious?” you asked dryly, glancing down at yourself. You wondered if it was the way you were dressed or if it was the way you looked like a lost duckling trying to figure out where to go. Disappointed, you thought you had made sure to wear an outfit that leaned more toward Mondstadt’s typical fashion than Fontaine’s but either way, it was a bit embarrassing.

“No,” the man said immediately. “I was just throwing it out there for a conversation starter, I’ve found it works wonders.”

“Does it?” you asked curiously, peering around the pavilion as more people began to wander around.

He hummed in agreement. “Usually, they start asking me why I think that because they are from Mondstadt,” you laughed a bit and the corner of his lip pulled up, “and if they aren’t, I explain to them why I asked, and then they laugh, kind of like how you are now.”

“You’ve got it all figured it out, don’t you?” you asked, letting the tease slip into your tone as you relaxed against the stone wall behind you, glancing up at him.

“Not at all,” he corrected. You gave him a questioning look and his grin widened a bit as he leaned in, as if to whisper to you in conspiracy. “I just made all of that up.”

You laughed louder this time, more in surprise than humor, but he seemed to take it as a positive regardless, straightening back up and looking down on you. “I’m Kaeya,” he greeted. “Cavalry Captain of the Knight’s of Favonius.”

“I’m…” you began, but found yourself trailing off as you caught sight of a figure ducking into an alleyway. All you caught was a head of silvery-blue hair, but somehow you could feel yourself drawn in that direction as if something was pulling you and were a puppet on a string that could only follow along. “Excuse me for a second.”

You didn’t hear his response and though you felt a bit bad about leaving him hanging like that, you were more focused on trying to figure out whatever the pull to this person was. You took off in that direction, relief hitting you when you realized he was still lingering at the mouth of the alley, fiddling with something in his hands.

“Excuse me,” you called, trying to get his attention. He didn’t respond, he didn’t even look up, so you repeated yourself as you drew closer, reaching out to touch his arm but he jerked away, dropping whatever was in his hands and your eyes widened as it hit the ground hard, shattering.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him, you could feel the cold and harsh gaze set on you as he waited for you to say whatever you wanted to say, but now you were at a loss for words because you didn’t even know why you came after him and you didn’t know what you wanted.

“Did you need something?” Clipped and icy, the thin smile on his lips did not meet the red of his eyes, and any words that you might’ve been trying to say to excuse your actions died on your tongue.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said, grateful that your voice remained steady even under his severe look. “You looked familiar. I thought we might’ve met before.”

He looked ridiculously familiar, in fact. You swore that you’d seen him before—the red eyes, silvery-blue hair and the scarred upper half of his face—it was all so familiar but you just couldn’t place from where. He looked taken aback a bit by your words, examining you for just a second before his lips twisted down again.

“We have not,” he said, voice frigid as he knelt down to pick up the broken pieces of the object that he had been holding. It was a dismissal if you’d ever heard one, but instead of leaving, you knelt down next to him.

“Here, let me help-” you tried to say, but at once, he grabbed your forearm, fingers pressing deep into your skin to stop you.

At once, a jolt shot through you and he seemed to feel it too, if the way he drew back as if he had slapped had anything to say about it. He stared at your hand as if he had just seen a ghost, lips parted in shock and eyes wide, and just as you were about to ask if he was okay, he spluttered something out about being late for something and then he was moving, disappearing around the corner before you even knew what was happening.

You sat there for a moment, stunned, and completely oblivious as to what he had seen.

Zeta’s heart was racing and his head was pounding, red eyes wide with disbelief as he leaned against a wall around the corner, far away from you. A part of him was embarrassed at the way he had run, he couldn’t even remember what excuse he had given—something along the lines of having to go because something important came up, a load of bullshit of course, but he thought it was better than what would have happened if he stayed there any longer after seeing that thread.

The thread.

Zeta didn’t know what to think. He had known of your existence—he knew because the moment the Iota segment found out years ago, the boy went running to every segment to tell them how a thread showed up on the Doctor’s finger, how they finally had their soulmate. He never expected to meet you though, much less before any of the other segments, and even then, a part of him had been convinced by Lambda’s persistence that this was all just a ploy for them to drop their guards, a fake, a means to destroy them in a way they had yet to be destroyed.

But you were there. You were right there. Zeta couldn’t help the way he peeked back around the corner, eyes immediately drawn to where he had left you in the middle of the alley. You looked upset, expression downcast as you glanced around, still trying to find him. A part of Zeta wanted to walk back over to you—talk to you, study you, try to figure out just who you were and why you were tied to them, there had to be something unique about you that made you their soulmate, that made them have to wait five hundred years just to meet you.

But he knew better.

The Doctor would already be suspicious.

It wasn’t unlike Zeta to have bursts of emotion when dealing with too many people—he got overwhelmed quickly after spending years having to keep up a friendly mask at the Akademiya. No matter how hard he tried to keep himself calm and learn new methods for not exhausting his thin tolerance of social situations, he never seemed to be able to do anything to fix it, an unfortunate side-effect of having been created with this mindset, because he would always revert back to the one in which he was originally made in.

But it was not the sudden outburst that was the issue. It was that shock that spread through him when your hand brushed his arm. The warm feeling. The familiarity with someone who should not be familiar. The Doctor would have noticed it, and he would have questions.

Zeta sighed heavily, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose as he leaned his head back against the wall. He cast one last long look backward, eyes lingering on you, memorizing your face and your body, the outfit you wore and the gems that donned your fingers and neck.

With a tight feeling in his throat, he pushed himself off the wall and head in the opposite direction of where you were standing, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the Doctor reached out demanding to know what had happened and Zeta needed to figure out what he was going to say before that happened, wanting to keep this little encounter a secret to himself because he knew that Lambda would inevitably find out through the Doctor and then he would try to hunt you down.

One last look, he told himself, again. He glanced back as he reached another corner, the alley where he left you only barely visible from the distance, but you were already gone.

#dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #series: heliotropes

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laresearchette · 9 months ago

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Sunday, March 31, 2024 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: PARISH (AMC Canada) 10:15pm

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

NETFLIX CANADA AS GOOD AS IT GETS BIG DADDY CLOUDY WITH A CHANCE OF MEATBALLS CLOUDY WITH A CHANCE OF MEATBALLS 2 DOPE S.W.A.T: UNDER SIEGE

“GIVE US BARRABAS!” - Movies for Easter (TCM) 8:00am: The Miracle of Our Lady of Fatima (1952) (Cartoon Network Canada) 10:00am: Hop (2011) (TCM) 12:00pm: Godspell (1973) (TCM) 2:00pm: The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965) (W Network) 4:00pm: Easter Under Wraps (2019) (TCM) 5:30pm: The Robe (1953) (Crave) 5:30pm: Easter Sunday (2022) (W Network) 6:00pm: An Easter Bloom (2024) (TCM) 8:00pm: Easter Parade (1948) (TCM) 10:00pm: King of Kings (1961) April 01 (TCM) 6:00am: Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ (1925)

CURLING (TSN/TSN3) 8:00am: LGT World Men's Curling Championship: Canada vs. Scotland

MLB BASEBALL (SN/SN1) 1:30pm: Jays vs. Rays (SN Now) 4:00pm: Red Sox vs. Mariners (TSN2) 7:00pm: Cardinals vs. Dodgers

MLS SOCCER (TSN2) 1:30pm: DC United vs. CF Montreal (TSN2) 3:30pm: Atlanta vs. Chicago

2024 WORLD FIGURE SKATING CHAMPIONSHIPS (CBC) 2:00pm: Exhibition Gala

NHL HOCKEY (SN360/SNPacific) 3:30pm: Ducks vs. Canucks

NBA BASKETBALL (SN) 7:00pm: Warriors vs. Spurs (TSN/TSN4) 6:00pm: 76ers vs. Raptors

NORTHERN AIR RESCUE (APTN) 7:00pm: At Missinippi Airways, medivac pilots do much more than fly planes; when a job-related injury sidelines one of their crew members, a talented young pilot earns her shot at moving up to the medivac program.

OCEAN WARRIORS: MISSION READY (APTN) 7:30pm: An oil spill from a grounded tug and barge in 2016 proved devastating to the Heiltsuk, who use their waterways for food, transport and cultural practices; today, Heiltsuk's Coastal Nations Coast Guard Auxiliary team searches for a missing community.

THE JESUS MUSIC (Super Channel Heart & Home) 8:00pm: With stirring songs of faith, love and hope, Jesus music rises from America's 1960s counterculture movement to become a worldwide phenomenon.

BIG BROTHER CANADA (Global) 9:00pm

HIGH COUNTRY (CTV Drama) 9:00pm: After Rose's harrowing ordeal in the bush, Andie investigates another suspect in the disappearances, ex-army hermit Ghillie Jack.

INTO THE DARK: DOWN (T&E) 9:00pm: Two office workers get trapped in an elevator over a long Valentine's Day weekend. A promising romantic connection turns dangerous as they learn more about each other.

PETER RABBIT (Starz Canada 2) 9:00pm: Peter Rabbit and his three sisters enjoy spending their days in Mr. McGregor's vegetable garden. A battle of wills soon breaks out as McGregor hatches scheme after scheme to get rid of Peter -- a rabbit who proves to be a worthy and wily opponent.

PROSPER (Super Channel Fuse) 9:00pm: Cal locks horns with a psychologist as he suffers a breakdown following Rosa's suicide.

THE CURSE OF OAK ISLAND (History Canada) 10:00pm: The team has finally reached target depth in the Garden Shaft, but their drilling efforts may be thwarted by a legendary flood tunnel.

BRYAN'S ALL IN (HGTV Canada) 10:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Matt and Alicia bought their town's beloved bowling alley to save it from being torn down. The business is a local landmark, giving young, old, and everyone in between a safe, familiar place to gather and unwind.

#cdntv #cancon #canadian tv #canadian tv listings #northern air rescue #ocean warriors: mission ready #big brother canada #high country #prosper #the curse of oak island #bryan's all in #curling #mlb baseball #nhl hockey #mls soccer #nba basketball

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bloodyknucklesforme · 3 months ago

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Red Summer | Ghoap x F!Reader | Slasher!AU

After breaking up with your long term boyfriend you take a job working as a camp counselor in Northern Vermont. Seven weeks of swimming, volleyball, archery and hiking. There's even a hot lifeguard. It seems perfect until you find something evil is lurking in the woods

Tags: Slasher AU, Ghoap x Reader, intro chapter, nondescript reader, dark fic

cw: vaginal sex, oral sex, dub vouyerism, gore

Chapter 2: Time After Time

previous| next

You had never had a nightmare like that before. Something so vivid and horrific. You kept running your hands over your stomach, expecting to feel an open wound or even a scar. It was nothing but smooth flesh with splatterings of freckles and stretch marks.

You walked shaky legged into the bathroom, stripping down and stepping into the cold water. It all felt so real. You kept pinching your arms, thighs and stomach - making sure you’re real. That you’re not dead. That your insides are still on the inside.

You heard your name being called in the main room. You shut off the water and wrapped yourself in the old fraying towel you brought. You grabbed a particularly heavy shampoo bottle to use as a weapon just in case.

“There you are,” Johnny smiled with relief when you poked your head out of the bathroom. “Missed ya at breakfast… what’s wrong?”

He was alive. He was alive and standing in front of you. No blood on his hands or fear in his eyes.

“I just had a really… really fucked up dream last night.” Your voice croaked.

“Oh Bonnie. You’re okay. It was only a dream.” He opened his arms to you and despite not knowing him and being practically naked you accepted. He smelled like sweat and cheap cologne. “First day anxieties, yeah?”

You nodded softly, choking back tears. It was just a dream and you were so fucked up by it. Your face heated up at how pathetic you were being.

“You get dressed and I’ll grab you something to eat, okay?” He patted your back. At least you hadn’t dreamt up how caring he was. He made sure the door was shut before heading out.

You went to grab your STAFF shirt and recoiled, remembering it was what you wore in your dream. You grabbed a different top and pulled on some old jean shorts.

“It’s not high protein but I got ya instant oatmeal and a banana.” Johnny called through the door. “You decent?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

It was the kind with dinosaur eggs in it. You mixed it about till the eggs melted to reveal brightly colored sugared dinos.

“We have orientation to do.” You said softly, eating another spoon full.

“I told Warren we’d be a wee bit late. Said you found a snake in your cabin and needed me to rescue you.” He chuckled, bumping your shoulder with his.

“Thank you,” you smiled meekly.

“You want ta talk about it?”

“Huh?”

“Yer dream? What got ya so freaked out.”

“Oh… uh… it was like a movie. Just some man was going around killing people. He was wearing this skull mask and he…uh… he stabbed me.”

“Might have watched too many movies before getting here.” He rubbed your shoulder. “I promise if a masked killer comes running around I’ll keep ya safe.”

He waited with you until you finished eating. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him bite at his nails. Any time you looked at him he’d give you a soft smile that didn’t quite match the anxiety in his eyes.

You made the motions to get through the afternoon, unable to shake the unease of deja vu. Sophia kept trying to open you up with jokes and little nudges and looks as the boys bonded.

Every time Sophia or Warren explained something you thought “I know this already” which only made the knot in your stomach tighten.

You felt calm once the four of you reached the lake. They were talking while you walked down the dock. The air felt cooler the further out you went.

You took off your shoes and socks and sat down to stick your feet in the water.

There’d been a lake in your home town and during the warm months you used to ride your bike down to sit at the beach. It was more dirt than sand but that just meant it attracted less people. On the other side was the nice beach with lifeguards and playgrounds and paid entry. On your side it was just you and the occasional fisherman. It was peaceful there and now with your feet in the water you felt that peace again.

“Yer gonna get burnt.” You jumped at Johnny’s voice. He was standing a little ways behind you, bottle of sunscreen in hand. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.”

He sat down next to you. His shoes and socks sat next to yours. You took the bottle and began reapplying to your arms.

“You still freaked about that dream?”

“A little. It just felt so real… and I don’t know. Maybe I am just paranoid. I never really did camp when I was younger.”

“Sleeping somewhere new can always mess with ya head a bit. When I was in the army you slept when and where ya could. Never really felt rested.”

“Do you get nightmares?... I’m sorry that was stupid to ask. You don’t have to-” Your face felt hot.

“I do. Sometimes. Took this job to get out of my head a bit.”

“Is it working?”

“No,” he laughed. “But there’s a whole summer left.”

“That is true.”

You laid back on the dock, letting the water lap against your shins.

The two of you missed lunch but made it back for the rest of the day's schedule. The afternoon passed over easily. You tried to stay out of your own head but Deja vu kept tying knot after knot around your brain.

There were blisters on the back of your heels. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you applied band-aids for seemingly the second time.

You had minimal service but enough to get out a short text to Ale.

‘At camp. I might not be able to talk to you for a while but when I’m back I hope we can talk.’

It felt a little pathetic. He broke up with you essentially. ‘A break’ is what he called it. He was leaving for the Summer too soon enough. Helping out his childhood friend Rudy at his ranch down in Mexico. He originally wanted you to come with him. See where he grew up, meet his family and friends. You thought maybe there was a ring hidden among all those plans. You guessed you were wrong.

You missed Johnny as you walked up to the dining hall for dinner. You didn’t really feel like talking but it was nice to be talked to sometimes. He was already seated with another girl. You felt a little twinge of jealousy. He’d spent most of the morning attached to your hip but it seems you were already forgotten.

The unease of the day made you decline any invites to drink or sit by the fire.

“I think I'm just gonna walk for a little bit. Just get some air before going to bed.

“I can come with you,” Nat offered.

“I think I’ll be okay. I’ll bring a flashlight. I’ll probably just go around the soccer fields and back.” There were a couple light posts out around the area. Not super bright but enough to find your way back.

It seemed to be tempting fate to go out alone. It also seemed to be the only way to knock this anxiety out of your head. Life wasn’t a movie. Masked killers were only in movies. If this was a movie you’d be in Mexico planning out an outfit to get engaged in. You were in Vermont as far away from Mexico as your credit card could take you.

You did a lap around the soccer fields and you survived.

You did another one just for good measure and you survived again.

You thought about doing a third but it was dark and your feet ached and you only wished to tempt fate so much.

You could hear people yelling as you walked back to the cabins. Your arms and legs prickled. You weren’t close enough to tell if it was laughing or not. You turned off your flashlight anyway. You stepped off the path and walked on the grass to quiet your footsteps just in case.

Running footsteps came past you, the runner breathing squeakily as they disappeared into the dark. They were trying to be as quiet as they could, an animal running from a predator. Something out of a nature documentary when the herd scattered as the lion went for the weak.

You crouched down as you made your way closer, keeping out of the light. Your flashlight was heavy; it could be a weapon if needed. Ale, had taught you how to punch before.

This was a poor way to find out you were possibly psychic. You should have let Nat come with you. You hoped she and the other girls got away. Maybe you could find Johnny again. If he really did have a gun, you wouldn’t even need the keys. The flashlight could break the window of his car. He was trained for this. If you found Johnny you might survive.

The fire in the center of the cabins was still going, still bright enough to illuminate the carnage. Three bodies laid around with trails of blood leading in all directions. None of them looked like Johnny.

You crept along the back of the cabins towards Johnny’s. There was a scream in the distance and your stomach flipped. You peaked around the corner. No one.

You winced as the door creaked open, checking around you once again for any signs of life. If Johnny wasn’t here maybe you could still find his keys. You didn’t know which car was his. But keys could fix that. Keys got the car which got you the gun. Simple. The parking lot was about half a mile away. You could sprint there. All those leg days at the gym with Alejandro would pay off.

He had a backpack on the floor. Old paperbacks, sketchbook, pencil pouch, lighter, a pack of cigarettes, condoms, a folding knife (you put it in your pocket), a thong (jesus christ Johnny), and finally the car keys.

The floor creaked behind you. You flipped on your heels, getting the knife out much faster than you expected to.

“Shhh, bonnie. It’s me. It’s me.” Johnny hushed, crouching down to show his face in the light. He was covered in blood. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“You’re hurt…”

“Not mine. Was helping Nat out a window and… he got her.” You bit back a cry. She could have been with you right now. Johnny beckoned you over. “Let’s go. We can make it to the lake.”

“No.” You shook your head. “The gun in your car. I have your keys.”

“What gun?” He frowned, “I don’t have a gun.”

Idiot!

“It was my dream,” you bit back another sob. “Oh my god.”

“Hey, it’s okay. You have my keys? We can go but we have to go now.”

He grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet. “Don’t stop running.”

The two of you took off towards the parking lot. He was faster, more agile. You tripped over rocks and your feet were on fire. You heard larger footsteps running behind you. Your heart beat matched your steps. Just keep running. Don’t stop.

Johnny ducked down ahead of you. You weren’t sure why until it hit you. A razor thin wire cut across your throat, having been tied across the path. How did he see it? You hit the ground hard, throat open and gushing. You gasped as blood filled your lungs. It’d cut deep.

A pair of boots stopped one on each side of your head. You glanced up. The skull faced man from your dream. You couldn’t even whimper before an ax came swinging down to split your face in two.

You screamed, rolling out of bed and thrashing about in your sleeping bag. Sophia came running in from the bathroom.

“Are you okay?” She asked, helping you up. You couldn’t breathe. Hyperventilating hard, your legs couldn’t even hold you up anymore. Sophia had to drop you onto the bed. You couldn’t form words just open and close your mouth like a fish as you struggled to get enough air. Your body felt tight and disconnected from the rest of the world at the same time. “I’m gonna get help, okay?”

You heard her run off, your eyes glued to the old wooden ceiling. You could still feel it, the wire across your throat. The way your skull split open.

More footsteps. A hand wrapped around yours.

“Hey, bon. It’s Johnny. I’m right here. Sophia, can you get her water? Thank you.” The door opened and closed again. Johnny climbed up on the bed beside you and helped you sit up, shouldering your body weight on his side. “Try to match my breathing. In…out…in…out. There ya go.”

You followed, your shoulders relaxing as more air traveled through your lungs.

“Good girl. That’s it. Just keep breathing like that. Try squeezing my hand as you breathe, focus on that. Yeah, that’s it. Good job.” His hand was real, it was here, it was wrapped around yours. You smelled his cheap cologne, felt the heat of his skin against yours. He held some little white disc up to your mouth. “You like mint? Just suck on it. Always helps me.”

You opened your mouth and he laid the mint on the edge of your lip, holding his hand out in case it fell. It was peppermint, reminded you of Christmas and toothpaste.

As your heart calmed, your embarrassment flared up.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“Nothing to be sorry for, bonnie. I know what a panic attack is.” He rubbed your back. “Do you want to talk?”

“I don’t know what’s going on. It’s like I’m having dreams within dreams.”

“What do you mean?”

“Today’s sunday?”

“It is.”

“In my dream it was sunday but in my dream i’d woken up from another dream where it was Sunday. And…and each time there was this man and he…he killed me.”

“Steamin Jesus.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “That’s awful. I get why you’re so freaked.”

“I’ve never had anything like this happen before. It just felt so real. And you were there. Both times we were trying to escape and he got me. It sounds like a fucking movie or something but he got me. He wears this skull mask and he has an ax or a machete. Everyone was dead.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. Don’t work yourself up again. S’just a dream.” He took a deep breath at the end. “S’just a dream.”

Sophia let you spend most of the day inside your cabin with Johnny.

“Just try to relax. Anything you missed, we can go over later. I promise it’s not that big of a deal.” She squeezed your shoulder. She was kind enough to bring you breakfast. Dinosaur oatmeal, coffee in a styrofoam cup and a couple granola bars. “There’s better service in the parking lot if you want to call anyone.”

She meant Ale. He’d pick you up if you asked. Drive all day, you could spend that night in your old apartment. Despite everything you knew he still cared about you. How many years had you two been together again? It seemed like it would be forever. Maybe he missed you as much as you missed him.

“Thanks. I’ll remember that.” You smiled up at Sophia.

“Just holler if you need anything.” She took a quick glance at Johnny and then back to you, her voice getting quiet “or if you want to be alone.”

You turned away from her like it would stop your face from getting hot.

It was nice of Johnny to stay with you.

“Don’t want you to feel like yer alone,” he’d said. He was laying down on one of the camper’s bunks, flipping absentmindedly through one of the books you’d brought with you. He didn’t seem to actually be reading it. You could tell from the look in his eyes that he was elsewhere, like he was staring at the white spaces between the words rather than the words themselves.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” You offered. He perked up like a dog.

“With you? Absolutely.”

The two of you walked down towards the lake. You already knew the way. You weren’t sure how it happened but you were holding his hand the whole way there. The underpass was as wet and mildewy as it was in your dreams. You held on tighter to him.

You nudged him as you walked towards the dock.

“Race you.” You said, starting off towards the water.

“Ya cheated!” He called, laughing.

There was something about the sound of running on a wooden dock that took you back to your childhood. Running with childhood friends to fly off the edge into the water.

You ran till there was nothing under your feet, briefly gliding through the air until you hit the water, letting it engulf you till your toes touched the soft muddy sand at the bottom. Johnny landed next to you.

“You had a head start.” He laughed, splashing water at you. “Cheeky girl.”

“Figured I need it, considering your ex-military.” You splashed back, your handmade tidal wave coasting over his shoulders.

“C’mere.” He grinned, reaching for you under the water. He was a strong swimmer, diving beneath the water to pull at your ankles. You splashed him whenever he came back up for air, trying to make your way back to the shore, fighting against his attempts to pull you into deeper waters.

You liked water but hated sand. The way it stuck in every crevice and dried out your skin. It was only worse when you were wearing real clothes instead of a bathing suit. You didn’t mind it as much as you thought you did with Johnny rolling around in it with you.

He was straddling your hips, your hands locked together pushing against each other in a mock struggle. His wet shirt clung to his muscular chest and arms. The sunlight glimmered off the water droplets that fell from his mohawk.

You let him push your hands to the beach on either side of your head. He was handsome, really handsome. And nice which was always a plus. The accent was also very hot. You always liked a man with an accent.

You leaned up and kissed him. Short and sweet, really a peck more than a kiss. He tasted like lake water but what were you expecting? He kissed you back. It was hungry and passionate. You missed being kissed like this. His tongue swiping along your bottom lip till you parted your lips.

He held your neck, keeping you close to him. His tongue in your mouth, his other hand moving to grip your waist.

“There’s a hose round the back of the shed, if you want to clean up.” He had a wicked glint in his eye as he said that.

“You’re sure no one will find us.” You asked, as he pressed you up against the back of the shed.

“Promise. Just you and me.” He mouthed at your neck.

You were slow to peel off your wet clothes. He didn’t rush, leaning against the wooden wall, his own shirt already stripped off.

“Sorry, it’s nothing sexy.” You said, struggling to get your sports bra off.

“You are very sexy,” he said hoarsely. He looked at you for permission before slipping his fingers under the elastic band of your bra and pulling it up and over your head. You crossed your arms over your chest. “Getting shy on me now?”

“I haven’t been with anyone except my ex in a long time.”

“We don’t have to do this. I’ll walk away if you-”

“I want to. I’m just…I think I might have forgotten how to do this.”

“We can be slow. I don’t think anyone will come looking for us. It’s lunch time anyways.”

You let him lead. Let him kiss down your neck and collarbone down to your chest. Let him take one of your nipples into his mouth. Your head hitting back against the wall as he pinched your other nipple.

You could see his hard length pressing up against his shorts. It was big and made your breath hitch. How far would you let this go? You had no idea when the next time you could get laid would be. What about getting back together with Ale? What if he’d already slept with someone else? What if he hadn’t and wanted to know if you did? What if-

“Can I take these off you?” Johnny was knelt in front of you, tugging on your shorts.

“Please,” you whimpered. He was quick to pull down the wet clothing. He laid a kiss to the top band of your panties.

“Wish I could say you’re this wet for me,” he chuckled. “Tell me what you want, bon.”

“Take them off, please.”

“Good girl.” The way he said ‘girl’ caused heat to rush to your core. He peeled them off you, helping you step out of them and your shorts before tossing them haphazardly over a wooden crate. He mumbled, “They’ll dry.”

He pushed your thighs apart gently. His breath was shaky against your core. Your eyes met, his glassy, blue and blown out.

“You’re beautiful,” he grinned, lips glossy. He snapped his fingers, signaling for you to keep your eyes on his before he took your clit into his mouth. Your head hit the side of the shed with a dull thud, your eyes rolling backwards. He grabbed one of your legs and lifted it over his shoulder, snaking his arm around your other one to hold you steady.

He slid a finger inside, curling it up to press against your g-spot. He was groaning against your pussy, almost liked he enjoyed this more than you did.

He made you cum on his face as his fingers stretched you out.

“There we go. Good girl.” He kissed the inside of your thigh. Rising to his feet, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Best meal I’ll have all summer, I think.”

You giggled, face feeling warm.

“You’re pretty when you’re flustered.” He took your chin between his fingers and tilted your head up for a kiss. It was salty and warm. “You want to keep going?”

“Yes.” You didn’t want to sound desperate but your knees were shaking and you wanted him, more than anything else in that moment. He shucked his shorts off before pinning you to the wall with another kiss. His cock was hot and heavy, pressed between the two of you.

He gripped the back of your thighs and hoisted you up. You wrapped a leg around his waist. He lowered you back down on his cock slowly, the head dragging against your walls.

You moaned loudly, nails digging into his back.

There was a snap. A stick breaking. Your eyes shot open, looking into the woods behind Johnny. You couldn’t see anything but that didn’t stop goosebumps from running up your body.

“Hey, look at me.” He guided your head back to him. “It’s just us.”

“Sorry, it’s just been a while since I’ve done this.”

“Had sex?”

“Had sex with someone I don’t really know.”

“I don’t bite unless you ask me too.” He grinned, still fully sheathed inside you. “If you want to stop just let me know, okay?”

“No… keep going. It feels good.”

“I’ll make it feel even better.” He nipped at your collarbone.

He kept a hand on the back of your neck, holding your foreheads together, stealing kisses after any particularly loud moan he fucked out of you.

The drag of his cock against your g-spot, his gentle coaching for you to touch yourself, his tongue in your mouth. It didn’t take long for you to build yourself up to another orgasm.

“Want you to come on my cock. Need something to think about the rest of the summer,” He grunted. “Need to see that look on your face again.”

“Johnny, fuck… Johnny please.”

He let go of your neck to push your hand away from between your thighs, forcibly taking over with fast circles around your clit. Your moans got higher, closer together, almost hiccuping in pleasure. Your head thudding against the shed, back arching as you came.

He kissed you as he pulled out and set you back on the ground.

“Do.. do you want to finish in my mouth?” He groaned loudly, slowly stroking his cock.

“Might not last that long if you keep talking like that.”

You sank down to your knees, his arm holding you steady.

“So pretty,” he said, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip and tugging your mouth open. Somehow a blow job in the woods felt more intimate than sex in the woods.

You took the head of his cock into your mouth, licking the precum off the slit. He held your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheekbone. It was a tangy mix of the two of you. You couldn’t take him deep, just towards the back of your mouth. It was enough for him to moan your name between curses though. He made a choking noise and filled your mouth.

He rested his head against the shed as you wiped your mouth.

“Sorry, meant to give ya a warning,” he chuckled.

The two of you stuck close together for the rest of the afternoon. You were met with raised eyebrows from most and a knowing look from Sophia. It wasn’t judgmental, almost like they were congratulating you on conquering him. He was your arm candy.

There wasn’t any of that expected awkwardness of sleeping with a coworker. Neither of you brought up the rest of the summer or what you would do after. You could both just enjoy each other’s company. Made it seem like you could move on from Alejandro. That it wasn’t the end of the world.

Johnny had his arm around your waist at the bonfire, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. Blew out your flaming marshmallow when it started melting down the stick. From across the flames Sophia winked at you and gave an approving nod. You didn’t feel scared or anxious anymore. No nightmares could touch you.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” you yawned. You and Johnny were some of the last ones out. He was pointing out the different constellations. Growing up in the suburbs, you’d never seen this many stars before.

“I’ll walk ya.”

And he did.

The creak of the door closing behind the two of you. You wished Sophia wasn’t just a wall away.

“Thank you for everything… today” You chewed on the inside of your cheek.

“Can’t stand to see a girl like ya be upset.” He toyed with the end of one of your braids. “Can I kiss ya? Last one before those nosey buggers get here tomorrow?”

“Yeah, you can.”

He tasted like burnt sugar and beer. His hands on your waist, gliding up under your shirt to mold your skin around his fingers. The excitement of a secret summer fling made your heart sing. Something wild, adventurous and youthful. Something you’d missed.

There was a creak of floor boards coming from behind you. Johnny’s grip tightened around you.

“No!” He barked.

You turned just in time. It was happening again. The masked man. He had a machete in hand. In the light you could see the skull was sewn onto a black balaclava. Was it real?

Johnny shoved you behind him but Mask smacked him hard across the face, sending him to the floor. You screamed.

“Run!” Johnny groaned, blood pouring from his nose.

Mask grabbed your braids and yanked you backwards. Pain shot through your neck up to your scalp. He threw you onto the floor next to Johnny, knocking the wind out of your chest.

“I’m sorry.” He groaned, his hand groping for yours.

The first hit of the machete put you into shock. It didn’t hurt as much as you thought. You screamed more out of the horror of hearing your sternum break and blood erupt from the center of your chest.

“Simon stop!” Was the last thing you heard before the machete came down in the middle of your face, cracking your head like an egg against the counter.

Sorry this took so long. Kinda had a depressive episode that made it nearly impossible to write 🤷🏼‍♀️

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speedbird1987 · 2 months ago

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The final updated version of the rescue team with their uniforms when they were in Pontypandy or before they arrived in Pontypandy from an Emergency Service, the Coast Guard, or the Military. It includes how long they were wearing this particular uniform, including how long they've been with their last Emergency Service or Military service (For some of them). The list is Below.

1. Station Officer Steele - Pontypandy Fire Service Woolen Tunic and Iconic yellow Leggings (1987-1994)

2. Elvis Cridlington - Pontypandy Fire Service Woolen Tunic and Iconic yellow Leggings (2003-2007)

3. Police Constable Malcolm Williams - Metropolitan Police Motorbike Officer Uniform (2013-2018)

4. Firefighter Ellie Phillips - London Fire Brigade (2007-2015), Ergotech Action (2010-2018)

5. Pilot Krystyna Kaminski - Pontypandy Fire Service (Air Support) Flight Suit (2022-Present)

6. Sergeant Rose Ravani - South Wales Police/Heddlu de Cymru Mounted Police Unit (2011-2018)

7. Firefighter Penny Morris - Pontypandy Fire Service Updated Tunic and Iconic Yellow Leggings (2015-2022)

8. Petty Officer First Class Ben Hooper - United States Coast Guard Rescue Swimmer (2003-2012)

9. Fireman Sam - Pontypandy Fire Service Updated Woolen Tunic and Iconic Yellow Leggings (2008-2015)

10. Pilot Officer Tom Thomas - Royal Australian Air Force Olive drab Nomex flying suit (1995-2002)

11. Firefighter Arnold McKinley - Northern Ireland Fire and Rescue Service Ballyclare EN469 Turnout Gear (2009-2015)

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arkhammaid · 1 year ago

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— ˚₊‧⁺˖ ARRANGED LOVE.

fandom. genshin impact

pairings. neuvillette x gn!reader

content warnings. sfw (angst with happy ending), arranged marriage/mating, neuvillette loses his children during the archon war, you're a (wind) dragon, he rejects you for many years because he's grieving, not edited/proofread, written in lowercase

word count. 1k

notes. this is now the third time i'm posting this... tumblr this better show up in tags or else

the archon war has now raged for many years and would continue to do so. something one of the last dragons on teyvat hated. the endless pain and suffering of his subjects wore heavy on his heart and soul— but he truly broke when one of his enemies slaughtered his children, the last of his.

his wailing summoned the worst storm that teyvat has ever seen. his cries for his hatchlings, the last of his kin darkened the sky and the thunder resonates with his sobs. the seas were restless, waves crashing against cliffs and swallowing weak land.

he continued to cry for his children for many days, cursing celestia deep beneath the surface and wishing all his enemies would die a painful death. he wished for them to suffer, he wished to take everything from them just as they took everything from him.

his children had been protected by his realm and they still died too young. he had been foolish to hope no one would touch his domain, the place where he was king. he had been foolish to hope— foolish to think his power as one of the last dragons, the last hydro one, was grand enough to fend his enemies off.

his foolishness cost his future, the future of his seas, his waters.

and the storm raged on, flooding the flat lands and raising small creeks to violent streams. the hydro dragon had been angered and now everyone suffered the consequences.

meanwhile, the dark clouds grew and reached other regions and nations, slowly but surely completely taking over, other gods and mystical beings grew concerned. well, as concerned as they could be, while they slaughtered each other for the seven thrones.

one of them was rex lapis, a kin to the mourning dragon. while he never had hatchlings and thus didn’t know the pain of losing them, he could recognize the cries. the hydro dragon was spiraling, his powers feeding onto his grief and claiming even more lives.

to end the suffering on both ends, he decided to leave his current battlefield and made his way to the dragon known as neuvillette. he didn’t come as an enemy or ally, instead he came as kin to offer assistance— assistance in revenge.

the agreeing between the two dragons, two mighty elements at their beck and call, became known as the first contract of war, written down by rex lapis himself. he offered a helping hand to the hydro dragon, if he would agree to mate one of his many adepti.

mad with grief, the dragon agreed. he took an adepti of rex lapis’ choosing as his mate and went on rampage. in matters of weeks, he and the now geo archon reduced their enemies to nothing more but dust. and the god who killed the hatchlings… it is said that the hydro dragon himself drowned him in the sea.

but what they don’t know, what no one but the two dragons know is that this contract of war saved not only many innocent lives from the floods, but also yours.

rex lapis has rescued you from shackles placed on you, shackles of earth when you belong in the air. they weakened you, as you were the northern wind that brought the snow and winter to teyvat. wild yet freezing, you’re one of the four winds— and the last one remaining.

the only thing that could save you, that saved you in the end, was to mate another powerful dragon. and while you wished rex lapis had taken you as his, his future as archon repelled you in the end. no matter what he said, the gnosis from celestia was a shackle.

you needed to be free, free to remain alive, the last wind of teyvat.

and the only other option was the hydro dragon, neuvillette.

it broke your heart to see him like this, reddened eyes and slouched body, he was in no way showing the power he possessed. and oh— how he cried. even when he met you, tears were still running down his cheeks, as the storm raged on.

the mating itself had been a somber affair, nothing more but a formality. there was no joy when he bit your neck, marking you as his. there was no celebration, instead you tugged on your armor the moment the mating was over. and even then— it couldn’t be even called a proper mating, because there was no nesting, there was nothing but a bite of formality.

it took decades for your mate to recover, the gentle hydro dragon neuvillette. it took centuries for him to actually look at you and greet you as his mate and not a fellow dragon.

you can’t lie, those years were weary on you and it hurt— it hurt so bad. but you understood, or at least tried to, and he was trying.

trying to reign his grief in and to hold his tears back.

but then you took him by his hand and tugged him with you. the two of you twirled in the air, a dance of dragons, and you spoke to him.

“grief, my mate,” you said as you pressed your cool body against his.

“cry, my mate”, you whispered while it started to snow.

“do not harden your heart, remember your hatchlings and remember the pain. the pain you received and brought on others in return.”

“remember, so it shall never happen again.”

(and this day, he knew, it was this day he finally opened his heart. he allowed himself to feel, to yearn, for your touch, the touch of his mate he rejected for years. he yearned and broke to his desires, the deep, deep desire to love and to be loved again. and you greeted him with open arms and a gentle smile, forgiving the sins he did against you, forgiving all his wrongdoings.

in this moment he knew, he loved you.)

ARKHAM MAID 2023

#neuvillette x you #neuvillette x reader #genshin neuvillette #favoniuslibrary #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations

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northgazaupdates · 3 months ago

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10 October 2024

Resistance News Network translates and summarizes on Telegram the latest updates from journalist Anas Al-Sharif about the IOF's ongoing campaign against north Gaza:

🚨 Journalist Anas Al-Sharif:

—

Latest developments in the field situation in Jabalia Camp and its surroundings, as well as some northern areas on the sixth day of the aggression, and on the 370th day of the genocide war on the Gaza Strip:

- Journalists Fadi Al-Wahidi from northern Gaza and Ali Al-Attar from the southern part of the Gaza Strip were injured while covering the ongoing aggression. Their health condition is critical, and they urgently need treatment abroad. *We call on international organizations and press agencies to intervene and provide them with treatment and transportation to save their lives.*

- The three hospitals in northern Gaza are still operating at minimal capacity with limited medical services and continue to receive the injured, the martyrs, and patients.

- The number of martyrs from the ongoing aggression on northern Gaza has risen to over 220, with around 400 injured and others still missing.

- Fierce clashes between the resistance and the occupation forces are ongoing on the eastern and western battlefronts of Jabalia Camp, and the occupation has admitted to losing several soldiers and officers in a complex ambush east of Jabalia.

1) The occupation forces continue to impose a siege on northern Gaza for the sixth consecutive day, with heavy artillery and air strikes, and shooting at anyone moving on main or side streets in an attempt to forcibly displace tens of thousands of citizens holding on to their homes and shelter centers. Despite this, the people of the north have not complied with the demands to move south.

2) Continuous and intense airstrikes by occupation warplanes on Jabalia Camp, Beit Lahia Project, Beit Hanoun, the city of Beit Lahia, Jabalia Nazla, Al-Tawam, and Bir Al-Naaja, and Al-Saftawi.

3) Ongoing gunfire from occupation vehicles, drones (quadcopters), and helicopters (Apaches).

4) Extremely intense artillery shelling in all northern areas, targeting many homes, neighborhoods, and streets—even ambulances have not been spared from the shelling.

5) Occupation forces are intensifying the demolition of citizens' homes in Al-Tawam area west of Jabalia and Al-Zaytoun neighborhood in southern Gaza.

6) 8 martyrs in the targeting of civilians near Abu Shurukh roundabout west of Jabalia Camp in northern Gaza.

7) Occupation aircraft targeted the Da’our Tower behind Jabalia Camp Police Station.

8) Martyrs and injured in the targeting of the Rimal Clinic west of Gaza.

9) 3 martyrs and injuries in the targeting of a group of civilians near the Al-Jalaa Rocket Intersection.

10) 5 martyrs and several injuries in the shelling of a gathering of civilians near the Ghazali Intersection in Sheikh Radwan neighborhood.

11) Drones are flying at very low altitudes in all areas.

12) Intense airstrikes by occupation warplanes targeted several homes and agricultural lands in Al-Tawam area, Bir Al-Naaja, and Ahmed Yassin Street in Al-Saftawi neighborhood.

13) A number of martyrs remain on the roads and in the neighborhoods of the north, and medical crews have been unable to rescue them due to being fired upon by occupation forces.

14) Occupation vehicles are present in the eastern areas along the camp's front and the western side of Jabalia, extending along the coastal line with Beit Lahia, with intermittent gunfire from time to time.

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elegantsplendour · 1 year ago

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Of Blossom and Betrayal

Summary:

AU: Green victory, the realm called for a new queen after Queen Helena's demise

Seraphina Tyrell did not belong to the worldly realm of Westeros; a lone child conceived of loyalty, love and devotion. A beacon like her attracts the darkest of souls, in the darkest of times.

💌 Aegon II Targaryen and Aemond Targaryen

Warnings: manipulation, abuse of power, mentions of rape, slight underage, dub con, violence. Specific warnings will be added at the beginnings of each chapter.

Cast

Chapter 1

Prologue: Highgarden

Tag list: @purple-writer8 @vhagarswar @femmechaotic

Other friends: @boundlessfantasy @arcielee @qyburnsghost

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Lord Lyonel Tyrell was a man of honour, loyalty and vigilance. Succeeding in remaining neutral, assuring his family’s survival and maintaining the influence of his house in one of the bloodiest war since Aegon’s Conquest, if not of all of Westerosi history, was an accomplishment that many of his position had dreamt of.

Loyalty? He laughed bitterly at the memory of the bright and confident smile on his long gone brother Bryan’s departing figure to King’s Landing to serve under Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Be loyal to no one but his family, his loved ones.

It was the code he had lived by since Bryan’s unexpected tragic demise at the hands of Rogue Prince himself, a man his poor brother, the innocent messenger sent by King Viserys, admired and sworn loyalty to, fourteen years ago.

Lyonel remembered the day the news of his demise reached his father, the former lord of Highgarden.

People sing that there were six stages of grief.

Shock, denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

But when it came to a devoted seventy two year old father, the grief ended in the very first.

Two days later, Lyonel, the second son, whose ambitions never surpassed the allure of marrying Lady Jayne Lannister and sampling the finest wines and sugary with his beloved, inherited the legacy he had never been prepared for.

The Targaryens will always do what’s best for the Targaryens.

Those were his late father’s last words.

To survive the Targaryen rule, Lyonel played by their rules. Schemes, betrayals, deceptions and bloodshed? He did not shy away from them. He bore the burden so his family, his people, didn’t have to.

With his hands on the cold balcony, Lord of Highgarden bathed the fresh air of flowers, the peaceful chirping of insects, the giggling of young maids and the distant melodies from the small folks returning to their homes after a long day of labour.

This was his empire he defended.

One of loyalty, honour and love.

His beloved Jayne, her arms wrapped around his waist.

Seraphina, his precious jewel, his sweet little rose, the one and only fruit of his and Jayne's love's many attempts at blooming.

His Lancel, Bryan's illegitimate offspring, whom he had taken under the Tyrell bloodline, a fierce and honorable knight, a fine protector, his heir.

“Lord Ormund has written again,” Jayne rested her head on his shoulder, her golden curls soothing his skin as much as his mind, “The letter touched me, the words he’s chosen, the sincerity of his voice. He truly desires a betrothal between his first born and Seraphina.”

Jayne traced her fingers on her husband’s cheeks, “He wishes to introduce them in King’s Landing.”

“King’s Landing?” Lyonel frowned deeply, “It should be fit for them to present themselves to Highgarden, especially when Phina was the one who treated their wounded bodies in the woods, risking the slaughter of the ruthless Northerners.”

Jayne swallowed hard as she recalled the turbulent times of the war.

Although negotiations, strategies and armies kept the castle away bloodshed and dragon fire, the walls were not impenetrable to whimpers of loss and screams agony from the highborn’s well acquainted soldiers calling the Rose without Thorns to their rescue, even at the interdiction of her parents.

Every time the Rose sneaked away from safety, the Lord and Lady of Highgarden sobbed while the peasants and soldiers rejoiced. Her empathetic smile, attentiveness to their wounds and of course, the herbs and food she had carried with her ignited the flicker of hope in the darkest times.

One fateful day, Seraphina stumbled upon two injured knights bedecked in green armor, hidden in the woods—Ormund and Daryn Hightower, gasping for air, on the brink of death from the Battle of Tumbleton.

As Seraphina returned with the blood stained figures of the castle, Lyonel and Jayne’s anger and fear exacerbated.

Highgarden had remained unharmed because of its neutrality that their naive daughter had just broken.

Yet, the gods seemed to show them mercy, perhaps in honor of the lives House Tyrell defended. The Blacks remained oblivious to this act, which could be seen as a declaration of allegiance. Instead, Seraphina’s uncalculated move of benevolence eaned House Tyrell a favourable position in the new Targaryen court: an intimate alliance with the most influential house beside the new king.

As Lyonel contemplated the offer in silence, Jayne squeezed his hand, “Daryn is a handsome, brave and honourable young man. I recognized the look on his face when Seraphina brought him back from the wild,” she pressed a kiss on cheek, “It’s the same way you looked at me years ago, lord husband.”

Lyonel’s gaze softened as he enveloped his wife into his arms with a light chuckle, “Your jest on formality never cease, my love. If the young Hightower truly feels the same about our daughter as I did to you twenty five years ago,” he cupped her cheeks, “Then, perhaps, that boy deserves her hand.”

Jayne held her husband tightly, relishing his scent and warmth. In a world cruel as this, she thanked to the gods everyday for granting her a man of his devotion, wisdom and strength.

“To King’s Landing then?”

“To King’s Landing,” Lyonel nodded before rolling his eyes, his never dying youthful side emerging, “Where the drunken king will be holding a foolish lavish pageant while his people starve. Seven bless the poor girl he will choose as the new queen.”

Jayne laughed wholeheartedly before tending to his arm, returning to the warmth of the interior, “You know, fate favoured us immensely,” she whispered with a mixture of gratitude and anxiety, “If we had agreed to the Kinslayer’s proposal in marriage-“

Lyonel suddenly gripped the touch of her hand, “Thank the wisdom my father and brother had bestowed me. Never trust a Targaryen. The rumours of…” disturbance and disgust written all over his face, “Lady, now a Princess, Cassandra Baratheon’s screams of pain echoed through the Red Keep on her wedding night. I cannot imagine-“

He buried his face in his hands as he sat down with his wife next to the fireplace.

Jayne brushed his hair with adoration, “Don’t overthink about the past, my love. Phina is about to marry a good man.”

The lord smiled as he lifted his head to face his beloved, “Everything I risked, I fought for, it was worth it. For you, for her, for Lancel, and for our people.”

Jayne kissed him passionately before whispering, “You are too good for this world, Lyonel Tyrell.”

As the stars gracefully pirouetted around the moon in the embrace of the night's darkness, and with the imminent date of embarking on the journey to King's Landing drawing near, the wheel of fate began its inevitable revolution once more.

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