#should get to run their little tavern until the end of time

[starcurtain]

I, for one, think that Diluc should get to ascend to Celestia. Just once, you know, as a treat.

And then Celestia should make him the god of wine just to absolutely drive him batshit for the rest of eternity.

"Next person who asks me to bless their beer mug gets a 20% upcharge on their entire tab. Are you feeling brave?"

[its-jaytothemee]

Could you please write something about a wood elf Druid tav getting a bad fever/sickness after collapsing just as she steps in the door of the elfsong tavern rooms from the horrible miasma of the bhaal temple and a romanced Halsin tends to her and watches over her

Finally had a chance to get this finished! Sorry for the wait, life just got a little hectic but I didn't forget about you :) Thanks for the prompt, this was fun to write!!

Have a fluffy hurt/comfort piece for this fine Monday.

Also posted on AO3 if you prefer

Pairing: Halsin/Tav (f!reader)

Tags: Fluff, hurt/comfort, not NSFW but alludes to sex toward the end.

Word count: 2,641

Baldur’s Gate goes against everything you stand for. Nature, harmony, peace, community. But not even the city itself with its walls of stone and locked doors to prevent helpless refugees from entering could compare to the horror of the Bhaal temple lying in wait beneath it.

At least on the surface you could still breathe the fresh air, listen to the singing birds flying high above the stone walls, hear the breaking of the waves in the harbor. Nature is out of balance in the city yes, but down here? Here in this wretched temple the scale has broken completely. Only death and suffering and a necrotic miasma that seeped its way into every fiber of your being can be found in the God of Murder’s domain.

The battle with Orin the Red had been vicious. You and your companions fought with brutal ferocity to end her reign of blood and carnage in Bhaal’s name. Though as the fight persisted, you noticed a corruption to your magic. The beautiful verdant vines that you would usually call forth to ensnare your enemies had taken on a sickly brown color. When you try to call on the magic granted to you by Silvanus to heal your allies’ wounds, the bright magic flickers at your fingertips before puffing out of existence. A horrible burning sensation seizes your throat for a moment before a dull ache takes its place.

No matter, we’re leaving this accursed temple. I just need some fresh air. The stench of death is simply clouding my mind.

“You okay, soldier?” Karlach kneels on the bloodied floor, clutching the large gash on her arm.

“I…I think so. This rotten temple must be affecting my connection to the Weave.” You respond as the light pricking pain behind your eyes builds to a loud pounding. Given your magic seems to be touchy here in the temple, you opt to give your friend a potion from your bag.

“This should make it manageable until we can get out of this place.” You go to take a step towards the exit, but your head swims and your vision darkens. Luckily, a deep breath steadies your legs and pushes the fatigue from your mind so you can continue your way to the surface.

You never thought you would be so happy to see the streets of Baldur’s Gate. A new appreciation swells within you after your time in the temple. Sure, there’s hardly any trees and the only animals you see running about are the stray cats and dogs or an occasional rat, but at least now you know there’s far worse things.

“Hells…” You press your hand to your temple as the sun pierces your eyes, agitating the already pounding ache you feel behind them.

“Tav?” Wyll looks at you with deep concern. “You don’t look so good, friend.”

His hand extends to touch your forehead, which you now realize is coated in a thin layer of sweat.

“I…I’m fine. I just need to get back and rest is all.” You try to inhale the surface air, desperate to clear the deathly fog still lurking from the Bhaal temple.

Your companions keep a wary eye on you as you all continue your trek through the Lower City. Normally, you’d stop at some of your preferred vendors to sell some of the bits and baubles you’ve picked up on your latest quest. Today though, everyone insists on getting you back to the Elfsong so Halsin can tend to whatever sickness obviously plagues you.

Halsin…

At least the thought of him makes you smile and helps push the pain away for a moment. Your sweet, considerate, strong, bear of an elf. All of a sudden, you feel dizzy again, but not from the incessant ringing in your ears or pounding against your skull.

The familiar sounds and smells of the Elfsong Tavern pull you away from your daydreams. Normally, the smells of wine and stew and bread would make your mouth water, but right now they cause an uneasy churning in your stomach. You gag to keep what little food you’ve eaten today in your body. With some significant help from Karlach, you make your way up the stairs.

Surely they’ve added at least twenty more since we last left?

By the time you’re standing outside the door to your large, rented room, the light layer of sweat coating your skin has drenched your underclothes. You gasp for breath, the taste of death still prevalent on your tongue from your time beneath the city.

The doors open, and you can hear your friends speaking to you, but everything is warbled in your ear. You see Halsin come running up to you, a look of panic spreading across his face.

What’s wrong, my love?

You try to form the words as you feel his arms wrap around your waist, but everything fades to black.

***

“Tav!” Halsin calls out to you, but your unconscious body remains limp in his arms. “What happened?” He looks to the rest of your companions who had accompanied you to the temple of Bhaal.

“I don’t know!” Karlach starts to pace as he picks you up to lay you down on your shared bed. “She almost seemed sick, like they couldn’t breathe properly with the air in the temple.”

“She tried to cast a healing spell on Karlach but couldn’t form the magic. Come to think of it, she seemed to have trouble casting any of her normal spells.” The alarm in Wyll’s voice is evident as your labored breaths slow with each rise and fall of your chest.

He kneels next to the bed to examine you. The ragged breaths that rise from your throat fill him with dread. A quick healing spell closes the small cuts you received but does little else.

“Talk to us, Halsin. What’s wrong with her?” Karlach continues her pacing around the room.

“I’m not sure yet. I need some fresh water and the small drawstring pouch from my bag.” Halsin swallows the anxiety threatening to block his throat. Despite his feelings for you, his years of healing experience take over.

Your breathing slows further, and he notices the pallid color of your lips. The veins in your arms start to take on a necrotic black look The others come to his side with the requested items. He dips a clean cloth into the water before running it over your sweat-slicked forehead.

“The air in the temple must have corrupted something within her. I’ve seen this only one other time.”

After the shadows were unleashed at Moonrise, he dragged one of his peers from the curse only to find they had already started weaving their way into his body. Not enough to fully corrupt them, but it had been enough to nearly kill them.

“I need someone to hold her legs and arms, keep her as still as possible.” Karlach and Shadowheart came running to your side, pinning your limbs down as Halsin started another incantation.

He places his hand over your mouth and concentrates on the deathly fog that had settled in your lungs. Moving his other hand across your chest and up your throat, he works to draw the corruption out of your body. Your legs and arms convulse, you try and thrash and writhe at the pain, but your companions hold you still.

It takes a couple of passes and intense concentration from him, but eventually he’s able to rip the disgusting miasma from your body. The horrid green vapor sits heavy in the air as he pulls it from your throat. Gale puffs it away with a quick spell.

As soon as the corruption leaves your body, you take a few deep, gasping breaths. Once again, you’re able to breathe the air around you. The color returns to your lips and cheeks, and the black color following the veins in your arms begins to slowly retreat. Despite the sickness being purged, you remain unconscious.

“Shouldn’t she be waking up?!” Karlach’s panicked voice bounces off the walls.

“She will soon, her body needs rest.” Halsin assures her as he sits next to you on the bed. He brushes the stray hair from your face as your breathing returns to normal.

The small drawstring pouch beside him was filled with various suspensions and salts for his healing remedies. A few of them get wrapped in the cool, damp cloth he had used earlier before he places it over your eyes.

He continues to assure everyone else that you will recover, allowing them the freedom to run errands in the city. The others start gathering their things so they can continue with the day. But Halsin of course stays at the Elfsong with you.

“I’m right here, my heart. I’ll be here by your side until you wake.” Halsin presses another kiss to your forehead as you rest. He moves down to the floor beside you, holding the hand closest to him until your eyes open again.

***

You startle awake, bolting upright to find yourself in one of the Elfsong beds.

“It’s alright, Tav.” Halsin’s soothing voice slows your heart rate. You look over to see him kneeling at your bedside.

“What…what happened?” Every muscle in your body is sore. A dull pain still burns in your lungs, as if the nasty haze from the temple had to be ripped out of them. Your hands clutch your chest as you try to catch your breath.

“I’m not entirely sure.” Halsin takes one of your hands and gives it a light kiss. “Can you tell me what you remember from your time in the Bhaal temple? The others said you seemed to have trouble with even basic spells.”

You recount the fight in as much detail as you can recall, but your memory is as hazy as the air you remembered breathing. But you can recall the vivid memory of your tainted magic.

Halsin looks lost in thought for a moment, his brow furrows as he considers your words. Absentminded strokes from his fingers along your hand soothe away some of the anxiety clouding your mind.

“I see. Bhaal is considered a harshly opposing source to Silvanus. Perhaps being in that temple disrupted your connection. Dare I say almost corrupted it.”

“If I never feel that suffocating fog again, it will still be too soon.” You throw yourself back onto the mattress.

Halsin smiles before breaking into a soft laugh. “At least it didn’t corrupt your sense of humor, my heart.”

“Would you come sit with me?” You desperately need to feel his arms around you.

“Of course.” He picks you up off the bed so he can sit on the soft mattress and nestle you in his lap. You lean into him, resting your head on his chest.

His large arms wrap around your shoulders easily as he pulls you close. The faint scent of herbs and fresh tilled dirt cling to the leather shirt he wears. Years of his time spent in nature weave into every fiber of his being. Warmth and affection seep from every one of his pores as he cradles you in his lap.

“Where are the others? Are they alright?” You ask as one hand moves up to stroke the hair tumbling down your back.

“They’re fine, Tav. They’ve gone out to do some trading so you can rest.”

“Thank you for staying with me.” You turn your face further into his chest as he presses a kiss onto your head.

“As if I would let anyone else watch over your recovery.”

You sit there together in comfortable silence as you have so many times before. As he holds you tight against him, he mutters a few more healing spells, taking away the soreness plaguing your body and the pain in your lungs. Each gentle kiss along your forehead and cheeks drives away the fear that had been gripping you since the temple. Despite the relief you feel, a troubling thought crosses your mind.

“You said the temple could have corrupted my magic. Do you…” You trail off for a moment. Halsin gives you an encouraging squeeze. “Do you think it’s permanent?”

The thought brings tears to your eyes and causes a shiver to run down your body.

“Only one way to find out.” He loosens his grip on your shoulders so you can use your arms freely.

With a deep breath, you draw on your power to conjure a small patch of vines on the floor. In the temple, they had appeared as brown, decaying branches, void of life and color. But now they had returned to their supple, green tendrils. Tiny white flowers adorn the vines as they curl into a content pile.

“No harm done. They’re lovely as ever.” Halsin whispers against your temple. You let out a sigh of relief.

Whatever disruption Bhaal’s unnatural sanctuary had caused was now nothing but a memory. You say a silent prayer of thanks to Silvanus for restoring your connection, for keeping you close to his vitalizing influence. Now that the issue of your magic is handled, another thought crosses your mind. One that brings a playful smile to your lips and a blush to your cheeks.

“You know, if the others are going to be out for a while, we could take advantage of the empty room.”

“Oh? And do you think you’re feeling well enough for such an activity already?” The mischievous gleam in his eye causes your heart to skip a beat. You turn so you can straddle yourself over his legs and look at him head on.

“I guess that decision would be up to my wise healer.” You lean forward to plant a tender, lingering kiss on his lips. His arms snake around your waist to pull you closer.

“I don’t see the harm, so long as he’s gentle with you.” He breathes the words into your ear, the feeling is hot on your already flushed skin.

“I make no promises for myself, though.” You try to kiss him again, but he grabs you by the hips and flips you over so he can hover over you on the bed. The movement startles a yelp out of you, but quickly turns into an eager giggle.

“Oh, but I must insist you relax.” His tone shifts to an excited growl as his approving eyes take in every detail of your face.

“Healer’s orders.”

You laugh and do as you’re told. After all, how could you resist those eyes? You find yourself relaxing into his loving, familiar embrace, and soft kisses, stealing these last few moments to yourselves before your companions return. Before returning to the responsibility of saving Baldur’s Gate, and all of Faerûn along with it.

[vsenyatargaryen]

High Tides ( 1 )

Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon Female Reader

You’re the eldest daughter of Corlys and Rhaenys but your return to King's Landing is disrupted by your past.

warnings; mentions smut and murder, swearing, Daemon being himself

“Get up!”

Daemon groaned sleepily when he felt a kick against the sole of his foot again, this time with more force than the first. His stomach churned, having lost count of the amount of wine he’d drunk the night before. Gods, his head was throbbing and his mouth felt like it was full sand.

When he slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the light bleeding into the room from the window of the brothel, he was surprised to see you standing there.

Even though you were wearing a cloak and the clothes of a commoner as a disguise while you scowled down at him, it still made his pulse race.

“Oh, he lives,” you mocked.

A sleepy smirk crossed his face. “Hm, I must be dreaming.”

You scoffed, picking up the shirt that was lying on the floor and tossing it at him, “get dressed. We need to talk.”

The prince reluctantly sat up and pulled the nightshirt over his head, mind still a little hazy. If he were less hungover, he would have argued about even needing clothes on, especially around you - given your history together. All those late, long nights spent fucking in the bowels of a pleasure house, or wherever else you could hide out together.

You swore you could sometimes still remember how it felt - to be touched by him, to feel him inside of you, to be seduced and consumed by him. Right now, it feels like only a curse.

“You saw Aethan in the city yesterday,” you stated, trying to jog his memory, but it just made Daemon frown.

He vaguely remembers seeing your teenage son. That was before ending up in a tavern, then the pleasure house.

“It's a big place, ñuha riña [my lady]. I see a lot of people.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You told him how to get out of the keep unnoticed.”

Daemon sighed, running a hand over his face. That he did remember.

The boy was curious and had an eye for adventure. Aethan reminded Daemon of himself at that age. The Red Keep was dull at the best of times, he could hardly blame anyone for wanting to escape being stuck within those walls.

“He was bored,” he reasoned. “We didn’t stay locked inside when we were younger, why should he?”

“You told him you were his father,” you gritted out, glaring at him.

Oh.

“Did I?” Daemon managed to get up on his feet, leaning back against the wall to aid his balance, “As you can tell, I was drunk. I have little recollection.”

“You have an excuse for everything, don’t you?” You spat back, disgusted. You wished there was something, anything, nearby you could throw at his damn head. Preferably a sword you could just run through his skull.

Daemon smirked, a dark humour behind his eyes. “This isn’t just about Aethan. Say what you really want to,” he challenged.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, the memory of the night your Lord husband died still fresh in your mind. You remember that cloaked figure, the blood, the lifeless body he left in his wake. You remember Daemon. No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you were just imagining things, you knew, deep down, Daemon had the ways and means to do such a deed.

“I saw you the night my husband died. You killed him.”

Daemon responded with an exaggerated eye roll, “You do not need to act so bereft. He was a useless cunt.”

“You fucking ruined everything!” Your voice rose as you approached him, prodding a finger at his chest, “ I’m without a husband or a home and Aethan now thinks he is your son!”

Daemon grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer until your chest was pressed up against his, abruptly reminding you just who had the upper hand in this situation. Reminding you he wasn’t someone to anger. He had the blood of the dragon. But so did you.

“I may have been drunk when I saw him, but it was the truth. I know he is my son and you kept him from me all these years,” he hissed, his grip harsh as he glared back at you.

In all the years you’d known him, you’d never seen this kind of fire behind his eyes. You were sure it wasn’t just because he’d missed out on the fatherly duties of having Aethan in his life.

“You wonder why I kept him from you all this time? Just look at the example you set for him,” you scoffed, unable to hold yourself back. “Whoring, murdering and drinking your way through Westeros. Skoros kessa ziry inherit hen ao, dārilaros?” [what will he inherit from you, prince?]

With a grunt, Daemon moved his hand to your jaw, gripping you tightly as he seethed, “Nyke could emagon aōha ēngos syt bona.” [I could have your tongue for that]

“Do it,” you managed to grit out just audibly enough.

Daemon bit his lip and loosened his hold on you, giving you just enough leeway to step back from him, glaring daggers.

“Take my tongue if you wish. It will finally give my father a reason to kill you.”

He simply smirked at the threat. “Corlys respects me. We are both second sons and I helped defeat the Triarchy,” he reminded you, making you roll your eyes.

“I’m sure if I proposed the offer of marriage between you and I, he’d be thrilled,” the prince added. “As would Viserys.”

You shook your head with a scoff. “You’re clearly still drunk.”

“Not that drunk.”

“This isn’t one of your twisted games! You cannot just propose on some whim, Daemon,” you snapped.

“You said it yourself, you’re unwed, as am I. You and Aethan need a home. As my son, his place is at Dragonstone with me.”

“His place is with me. I’m done wasting my breath on you.”

You turned to leave, hearing Daemon’s voice call out as you walked out of the door,

“You’ll change your mind, ñuha riña!”

[ps1demodisk]

Afk Journey AU type thing where Merlin is actually a graveborn but doesn't know due to his constant bouts of amnesia

Uh there's a lot to get through but I'll drop the evil bits of lore I've got so far

Important things to note:

There's a temple called "Merlin's Grave", the story told is that it was where someone tried to assassinate Magister Merlin and failed, but in truth the temple was built around his gave to honour him (and then later used to conceal the grave when people started trying to break into his tomb, but especially after he rose from the dead).

He sealed off the entrance to the part of the temple the tomb is in with magic after he left (he doesn't remember this though).

He was, at one point, technically a lightbearer.

The Magister goes by Lazarus, but not many people call him that. Mostly just Hogan.

His headpiece actually helps with his amnesia, although his memory is still pretty bad, it helps him hold on to important memories, like who his friends are, what he is, who his enemies are, core memories, stuff like that.

His hair is kinda long but he usually just puts it in a weird kinda low hanging long bun thing and no one seems to realise it's as long as it is.

All of this is post-canon.

Ok this is gonna be a little messy and long.

He has vague flashes of memories at the tavern one night, drinking with Valen, and eventually they get too vivid and he just runs out the tavern looking worried. Valen sees this and decides to follow since it's odd for the magister to act like this.

Lucky for Valen, the magister doesn't run for very long, and Valen is able to follow from a distance so he's not seen.

They head into a thick foresty part a little ways outside ryeham, and after a while of following Valen realises the magister is looking for something

They go really deep, at one point Valen isn't even sure if this area has been walked in in the past hundred years, but the magister makes a path through the undergrowth as he goes and Valen just follows it. His legs are getting tired but they're so deep he can't even see the sky, he doesn't know if the sun even reaches here or if it's just still nighttime, he can't stop and go back without alerting the magister to the fact he's following so he just keeps going (because he doesn't want to leave him out here alone).

The magister keeps stopping at certain points and looking around, Valen isn't sure if he's looking at land marks to tell him where he is or if he's suspicious he's being followed.

Finally he stops at a big tree, from where Valen is he can see the magister but not what he's looking at on the tree, he reaches in the trunk and pulls something out and then just sinks to the ground and stays there, for a while it looks like he's crying, but then he lays down.

It seems like he ended up falling asleep after a while, so Valen finally approaches. When he makes his way around to the side of the tree the magister was looking at he sees two things, a big hole that looks to have been blown into the tree a very long time ago which the tree grew around to heal, and a very large sword that also seems to be mostly swallowed by the tree's growth by now. Near the sword is a small hole that looks fresh, like something embedded in the tree there had just been pulled out.

When he looks back at the magister he sees he's holding a little crown of some kind, and he realises that was what the magister came out here for.

Valen ends up falling asleep next to the magister while waiting for him to wake up, the walk was exhausting and so was all the stealthy stalking. When he wakes up, the magister's cloak is draped over him, and he is stood a little ways away from Valen, staring at the crown from last night. When Valen makes noise the magister turns to him with an unreadable expression, muttering something about how they should start heading back since it'll take a while. The magister feels different, the magister is acting different, but Valen doesn't get any answers until they're halfway through their walk back and he's been begging the whole time.

"I think that's where I died."

The magister is silent for the rest of the trip back, no matter how much Valen tries to get further answers or just talk casually to him.

Evil break for bad art

Valen gets answers from Hogan eventually, cause the magister has just been kinda spacey ever since and Valen is worried

Tells him "the magister is a graveborn, he just keeps forgetting."

It takes a while to get answers about the tree and the crown cause Hogan has zero clue what Valen is on about, but eventually he finds some old texts about the magister and there's also some drawings/paintings thingies with it in, and Hogan is like

"Ouhhh that's not a crown, that's just a headpiece, he probably died with that and finding it at his place of death was his way of verifying the memories of his death were real." but in hogan words.

Hogan eventually decides after enough moping that Valen should take the magister to his grave. For closure. And because he keeps asking if he has a name, and the grave is probably his best bet. Merlin's Grave actually being Merlin's grave is a well kept secret amongst the heroic order so...

Valen talks to Merlin a little on the way cause he's still being quiet and mopey and tries to be funny about it like "wow who'd have guessed Merlin's grave was at the place called Merlin's grave!"

They have to go in at night, but since magister Merlin is the one requesting access they don't have to sneak around to get underneath the temple, they're pretty much told "the door to the grave itself doesn't open so I'm not sure how you'll get in there but whatever" and left alone

Except Merlin immediately opens the door with his magic. Because he sealed it. When he left. With his magic.

They find out it's more of a tomb than a grave, the part where the body should be is wide open and unsurprisingly empty, but both are unsettled by the claw marks all over the inside of the stone coffin (and on some of the outside edges). Merlin decides not to give too much thought to how long he must've been trying to get out for when he reanimated, and just goes to read the name carved onto the lid of the coffin.

He and Valen turn to each other.

"Is that really it?"

"It must be.."

"Never call me that. Ever. This makes me want to die again so they recarve it."

"...You've definitely come up with better since I've known you..."

"No, no, Valen I think this is what my parents called me..."

"..."

"..."

"...did they hate you or something?"

They leave the grave with a (surprisingly) happier Merlin, but also both very disturbed by the claw marks.

Extra(s)

In this au the magister just randomly hands Valen cheese and Valen has never questioned this, he just eats it. It's been happening for so long that Valen actually gets excited when the magister pulls out cheese now.

The name on the tomb is Clitus Bottom

[stemwriter]

Pursuit of Knowledge - Chapter 4

Summary:

[Y/N] continues Act II of Mondstadt, finds out the worst thing about not having the ability to control time at will, and, along with Kaeya, takes a well deserved rest. What's something else that happens in Act II?

That's right! The Diluc trial run. Still, even that should be "normal", right?

Completion of story recommended: Akasha Pulses, the Kalpa Flame Rises (Sumeru Act V), Shenanigans and Sweet Wine (Kaeya hangout)

Also on Ao3 under StemWriter!

Word count: ~8k

You were part of the story now, weren’t you? No matter if the world your avatar was in was made from earth and sky or 1’s and 0’s, you were influencing it regardless. At this point, it’d probably be best to just go with the flow, but you had been thinking about what major event you would want to change, and you really hoped everything would stick to the script long enough to enable you to do that. Even if it meant you would end up upsetting people by hiding things from them.

The four of you hung around in the tavern for a bit just thinking, until Venti finally said to you, “Ah, [Y/N], it should be getting close to time now. Shall we get going?”

You looked at your phone to see the time. It was about 15 minutes past 6pm. It was time. “Oh- right, yeah, we should!”

“You two have somewhere to be? Since Kaeya and I have nothing more to talk about up here, I suppose I can go do other things. If you need me, I’ll be working the bar for a while.” Diluc said, crossing his arms.

“Everyone’s leaving already? Well then, I’ll be taking my leave as well.” Kaeya said, heading towards the stairwell.

He hung around for a second, seemingly expecting someone to say something, then left.

“Come on [Y/N], let’s go! Our prize is waiting for us!” Venti tried to make it sound like you weren’t about to try to steal a divine artifact, and become wanted criminals. 

Oh right, you were going to see Diluc again after this! You should probably give him a little hint on what’s going to happen.

“Alright, we’re going to go now.” You walked up to Diluc, and began whispering. “Hey Diluc,” He looked at you. “I promise it wasn’t us, it was the Fatui.”

He looked at you in confusion.

“You’ll get that later. Anyway, bye~” Your tone sounded a lot like Venti’s at the end there. You sighed internally when you thought about that.

------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright fortune-teller, what’s going to happen?” Venti asked, eager to get a response from you. For some reason, it almost seemed like he already knew, and was just asking you to see what you’d say.

“Well… We’re not going to get arrested, I can tell you that. At least, not if we do this right.” You didn’t want to tell him it wouldn’t work.

“Is that all you can tell me?” He whined. “Fine, let’s go in.” He pouted after saying that. “But you have to tell me more later! I want to see how much you know!”

You went back in the Cathedral with him, making sure to be quiet. He stayed behind while you snuck your way to the Holy Lyre. You made sure to be very careful there, assuming the guards were actual people, and not the dumbest A.I. you’ve ever seen in any modern game. You looked at their movements on your way in, and they… still seemed robotic. Were they still AI? They can’t be, right? You looked at the face of one of the guards, and while his face had a few more polygons than the NPC’s you saw in the regular game, he had a blank stare as he paced back and forth. That’s… something to think about later. You kept going through the basement, avoiding being seen.

During your attempt at burglary, you remembered your soundboard. You hadn’t used that in a bit, and you knew a good moment to use it again is coming up. You got that ready as you made your way through.

As you entered the room with the lyre, an Electro Cicin Mage steals it, and teleports out. Wow! What a surprise! Thankfully, you just got teleported out of the building too, because you weren’t sure you could go back through the basement without getting caught.

“We’re busted! Run!” You and Paimon said at the same time.

Venti looked a bit confused for a second before leaving with you to the tavern. You made sure your soundboard was ready.

*Benny Hill theme*

The goofy music was fitting, considering the wind tunnel things you assumed he made threw you into the huge statue in the middle of the plaza, as well as the roofs of several buildings. Your grand escape wasn’t very graceful, but you made it safely. As you busted into the tavern, Venti gave you a weird look.

Next thing you knew, you were talking with Diluc again. Right before you headed upstairs, you decided to remind him of what you’d said earlier about the Fatui. In the version you remembered, he trusted the Traveler enough to not turn them in, but you still wanted to make sure he didn’t turn you in here. You listened as two Knights rushed in.

“Ah, Master Diluc. Have you seen two thieves around?”

“...What happened?”

“Haven't you heard, Master Diluc? Two thieves were trying to steal the Holy Lyre!”

“Oh? How odd… any ideas on who the culprits could be? Fatui, perhaps?” He remembered. Yes!

“We don’t know, Master Diluc. One appeared young, was dark-haired, and dressed in a teal green, and the other was… blond. We’re putting up wanted posters now.” 

You still didn’t know how they got so much from Venti and yet couldn’t describe Aether as anything else as “blond”.

“I believe they headed that way.” Diluc said, pointing out the door.

You went downstairs to talk to him, Venti running ahead of you. Diluc already seemed tired of Venti’s attitude, assuming he stole something. Not the Holy Lyre der Himmel, but a bottle of alcohol.

You forgot the Traveler and Paimon hadn’t met Diluc yet. Sure, you have, but they weren’t you. Thankfully, Diluc understood enough to where a quick “Ooohhh, right, they haven’t met you yet!” was enough to get the point across. He continued as you remembered, sneaking in an expected bash at the Knights at the end.

Diluc really didn’t like the Knights, huh? You understood that he felt that way because of trauma and stuff, but you wished he had a more… positive attitude about things like that. There weren’t any therapists in Teyvat, were there? Oh! New idea! Become the therapist. Were you qualified? Probably not. But at this point, anyone for these people to talk to would help. You sat back and listened to Venti’s stunning performance again, this time without the fancy cutscene to go with it. Diluc looked awe-struck, probably the same way you did when you first heard it.

You agreed to meet after midnight, when the tavern was closed. Great! Another six hours to wait! …That rhymed, didn’t it.

“Alright, I don’t really have anything to do, so I’ll probably just eat something and take a nap. Bye, see you later!” You said to them, leaving the tavern. You found a corner to log off, and left your bedroom to go “take care” of yourself. 

Your eyes hurt a bit from looking at the screen for so long, and your stomach growled with hunger. You’d been online for a good 7 hours, and you only now realized just how much you needed a break. Well, time flies fast when you’re having fun! ‘Was all of that really fun though?’ You asked yourself, before immediately pushing that thought out of your mind to go eat a whole family-sized bag of potato chips. Self care!

You snacked before… gracefully falling asleep, yeah, that, on your couch for a nap that would end up lasting way longer than you anticipated. 

--------------------------------------------------------

As it turns out, falling asleep on an uncomfortable couch after binging on junk food isn't the best for the human body. You woke up on the floor, nauseous, and somehow even more tired than when you fell asleep, and you decided to go in the bathroom just in case. You checked the time on your phone, and it was already close to midnight. Thankfully, the nauseousness went away and you didn’t have to get worried about getting sick at the worst time possible. You washed your face, and headed to your bedroom to meet the others in the tavern.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before [Y/N] had left with Venti, they said something that Diluc had no clue what it meant until those Knights came running in, looking for the thief who stole the Holy Lyre. He had chosen to believe [Y/N] when they said they could basically see the future, and this only proved it more. 

The question was no longer if they were telling the truth or not. It was how to proceed. He had some time to spare while they waited until the tavern closed. He needed to investigate this on his own. “It was the Fatui”, [Y/N] said. If that was so, then he should start where all the Fatui in the city seem to stay. He headed to the Goth Grand Hotel, preparing for a search for answers.

He hadn’t seen Kaeya at all. He was normally still out and about at this time. Did he actually wrap things up at a decent hour? Or was he up to something?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as Kaeya left the third floor of the tavern, he was hit with a wave of exhaustion. He was planning to stay in the tavern for a bit, and possibly wait for [Y/N] and Venti to do whatever they needed to, but he desperately needed rest. He left the tavern, beginning to walk to his room in the Favonius Headquarters. Wait, couldn’t he use the waypoint there? [Y/N] had taught him how earlier that day.

It was at the highest point, wasn’t it? He just needed to visualize the area, imagine himself there. Just feel it, and…

And there he was. He almost fainted from the sensation paired with his exhaustion, but he made it. He glided down to the door on the roof, and entered the building. It had been a long day, hadn’t it? He entered his room, took off the bits of armor he was wearing, and promptly passed out on his bed.

--------------------------------------------------------

He woke up in the middle of the night for seemingly no reason. Everything told him that he wasn’t supposed to be up right now, but he didn’t feel like he could fall back asleep. He sat up, and realized how bad he felt. He was drenched in sweat, his hair was a mess, and his eyepatch had shifted, making his right eye visible. He quickly adjusted it. There wasn’t anyone else in the room, right? …Of course there wasn’t. 

After a quick shower, he changed into a clean uniform, minus most of the accessories. It wasn’t worth the time to put all of that on for the little he was planning to do. He figured he wouldn’t need it, since he could easily hold his own in a fight, should he get in one, but he decided to bring his Vision with him. 

He left the building, being careful not to make too much noise, and realized he had no destination in mind. Had the tavern closed yet? Ah, it probably had, it’s not worth it. Is it? Again, something told him to just forget stopping by, but it wouldn’t hurt to check, right? He planned to stop by the tavern to see if it was open, and if it was, to get a drink before leaving the city. After that? You know what they say in Mondstadt:

“Let the wind lead.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Venti couldn’t believe Master Diluc wouldn’t serve him any more alcohol, especially when he was going to be in the tavern, in a room filled with wine barrels for so long. He was alone now, so maybe he could sneak just one more sip without him noticing… But that wouldn’t prove he was trustworthy now, would it? And besides, he wasn’t that addicted to it to where he couldn’t go a few hours without it. For now, he just started to come up with his latest ballad to pass the time.

Or at least he was going to, but he just couldn’t stop thinking about [Y/N]. From the very beginning, they knew who he really was. At first he thought it was because they recognized his voice from when he helped them battle Dvalin, but they supposedly have knowledge of future events. He was wondering how much they knew, but they wouldn’t tell him much at all. It seemed like a weird way to phrase it, and they acted like they knew a lot more detail than he did, but if they really were telling the truth, were they too, aware of the s-

Venti heard Diluc open the door to the room on the third floor. He immediately looked around at the wine barrels, making sure they weren’t touched. Good thing he didn’t try anything!

“Ah, Master Diluc, you’re back! Any news on the Holy Lyre?” Venti perked up. He already knew the answer to that, but he wanted to get the conversation started.

“It’s not where I thought it may be, in the Goth Grand Hotel, but I… persuaded some Fatui members to tell me where it is.” He adjusted his left glove.

“Well then, are we only waiting for [Y/N] and the tavern to close now?” Venti asked.

“That, and I was thinking of contacting one more person to help us. I know it’s late, but hopefully she’ll understand…” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Diluc stopped by the tavern to close up and check on Venti, and quickly set out again to find some others who could help. It was getting close to time, but he should be able to get someone. Hopefully Jean wouldn’t be too preoccupied with her work…

He opened the door to leave the tavern, and saw Kaeya walking away. Had he not gone to rest? Kaeya turned around after hearing the door open, and looked at Diluc with that same smug expression as always.

“Diluc, you’re still here? And here I’d thought everyone left already… I came for a drink, but I won’t bother you if you’ve already closed up.” He started to turn back around to leave.

“Hold on. I haven’t put everything away, you can come in for a bit if you’d like.” He could help right? Even though Diluc didn’t exactly get along with him very well anymore, he couldn’t deny that he got things done when he needed to.

“Oh, where’s this hospitality coming from? Do you need something from me, is that what this is?"

“I think you’d be useful to us here. I’ll discuss it with you more inside.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Diluc said he was going to contact people to help them, but Venti didn’t expect him to be back with help this soon.

He heard two sets of footsteps coming up the stairs, and then there were three in the room. The help he had found was Kaeya, who sounded almost… shy, like he didn’t feel like he should be there. When questioned about it, he got a little nervous and insisted it was just insomnia. From the looks of it, he thought he could cover up his emotions with clean clothes and perfume. Venti played along with him, changing the subject to what they were going to do next.

“So Diluc, where exactly did you say the Holy Lyre was?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You turned on your console, opened the program, and watched the celestial pathway for a while. It had been sitting there for quite a bit now, huh?

Verifying file integrity…

Why was that taking so long? 

Almost as soon as you noticed it, it went back to its normal speed, and the doors appeared. It probably wasn’t anything to worry about, but it scared you at first. You thought your game finally realized something was wrong, and was just going to either fix itself, and sever your connection to this Teyvat, or ban your account.

If you remembered correctly, Venti, Diluc, and Jean should be waiting for you inside Angel’s Share. You knew Jean couldn’t hear you, but you wondered if she would notice your avatar’s robotic movements. Apparently, she didn’t back in the Knights headquarters, but who knows? Maybe she just wasn’t paying much attention.

You walked in to an empty tavern, but after a few seconds, Venti jumped down from the second floor, landing right in front of you. He looked around, and you made Aether jump a couple of times.

“The mysterious [Y/N] has finally returned! Ready to go? Master Diluc can tell you where we need to go. Or, perhaps you already know?” He said, smiling.

He wasn’t going to stop bringing that up until you told him every little detail, was he?

You sighed, and said “Yes, I know. It’s near Springvale, isn’t it?” 

You had basically just woken up, so your voice didn’t sound the best, but you hoped he wouldn’t notice. Diluc came down the stairs, followed by… Kaeya? Did he come instead of Jean? That wouldn’t drastically change anything, right? Wait, was that why it took so long to load? Because the story had changed? This wouldn’t drastically change anything yet, right? No. It can’t. Not yet.

Diluc looked at your avatar, and answered, “You’re right about the location. If we’re all ready to head off, we should get going.”

Venti turned to you, you, not your avatar, and questioned, “Everything alright, [Y/N]? Is there something bothering you?” Did you sound nervous when you answered him?

“Yeah, I just took a nap, and… I didn’t exactly sleep well. But that shouldn’t matter too much, let’s go.”

You briefly explained to Venti and Diluc how you were able to teleport, and that they should be able to do it too, and then you all were at Springvale in the blink of an eye. Venti acted like it was nothing new to him, while Diluc was… fascinated, to say the least. Kaeya had to explain to him that yes, that feeling of having your soul torn from your body was normal for this.

Diluc had quite a bit to say about it.

“Those waypoints are all over Teyvat… If the wrong people learned how to use them…” He looked in the direction of the hideout. “That could spell catastrophe worldwide.” 

At one point, you had noticed Kaeya had a different shirt on. Or was it the same one, just with less of the flamboyant stuff on top of it? It was nice seeing people in different outfits, instead of the exact same clothing 24/7.

As you all stood at the entrance, you thought about what was in this domain. This was the one where you had to ask a bunch of different Fatui agents where the key to a door was, right? …And it was the one with the Diluc trial, wasn’t it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Add another thing to the list of [Y/N]’s powers… Not only could they possess others at will, and suddenly make people stronger, and tell the future, but they could teleport anywhere in Teyvat they wanted to. And apparently, anyone could do that last thing. Diluc was surprised no one else had found out about this, and frankly, he was glad. There was also something else he didn’t know about yet. The other two kept looking at a spot a little above and behind [Y/N]’s avatar when they were talking to them. It felt like something was there, but he couldn’t see anything. He doubted it was a secret, since chances are, they wouldn’t be doing it in front of him if it was, but he hadn’t had a chance to ask anyone about it yet.

He was about to go in the hideout with everyone when [Y/N] gasped, and said they needed to tell him something.

“Hey,” they began. “I know I probably should have told you this earlier, but remember what my system did with Kaeya that one time? Or, I guess technically two times, but whatever- Just, that thing where it forces someone into my team?” They sounded very tired saying that. He knew they had just woken up, but he felt they were also just… annoyed by that happening.

“Yes. It happened less than a day ago. …Why are you bringing this up now?” 

“So- I- Look, there’s nothing I can do about it, at least, not now. Maybe I can eventually figure out how to fix this, but-”

He sighed. "...I’m about to be forced into your control, aren’t I? You don’t have to tip-toe around it, I guessed that as soon as you brought it up. If you can’t do anything about it, do you at least know how long this is going to take?”

He trusted them, right? As far as he was aware, they hadn’t lied to him yet, and they were warning him beforehand. Still, it felt like he barely knew them. Should he trust them with his body? Did he even have a choice?

“Give me a bit, and I can check, but it shouldn’t be more than 10 minutes.”

“You make it sound like you can check any little detail with the snap of your fingers.” 

This was a very specific event of the future they were talking about, but it would just take them a minute to check it? They’d done it before with that letter, but he had no clue how. Either that meant they were a very talented hydromancer, or they were getting their information from some other power or source.

“Oh, uh, I kind of can, except I have to do a little more than just snap my fingers. I type the thing I want into a device, I find the media I want, and then I have it. Sometimes it’s pretty hard to find said media, but I can pretty much find anything you could ever think of. Aaaand here’s the thing I was looking for! One more second…”

“You have a device that allows you to view information on anything you want? I guess that sounds about right if your world also has the technology to see the future of other worlds… I’m sure you already know of this, but we have something called astrology that allows people to see the future using the stars. Does your technology take advantage of that?”

“I’ll tell you more about the device later, but no, the technology my world has doesn’t use that. Astrology does exist here, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work the same as it does in Teyvat. People in my world use it to give people ideas of what may be yet to come in their lives, but here in Teyvat it’s like astrologers can see fate itself. …Anyway, I think we’re getting off track here. Going off of what I’ve seen, it’s going to take a little over 10 minutes, give or take. It might be a little longer because I’ll be focusing more on your safety than getting through it, or it might be a little shorter because I have others to help me now. Are you fine with that?”

So it’s not astrology… What is it, then? …Whatever. They’re right, they’re going off track. 10 minutes shouldn’t be too bad, especially with others watching over him to make sure [Y/N] doesn’t do anything harmful. It’s not like he had a choice, anyway.

“That’s… fine. Just try to get it over with quickly. It’s fine if I get a few scratches, just don’t kill me.”

“Alright, I guess we’re ready to head in. I’ll check to see if the guards in there can hear me. If not, great, but if so, I’m… gonna need to rethink things.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

…How were you going to explain to them what a phone is, and what the internet does? That’s a question for another time, but it still made you think.

You’d let Diluc know what was about to happen to him, and you just needed to tell everyone your plan, at least for this first part.

“One more thing, as soon as we go in, there’s going to be a rotating bridge with those cylinder torches or whatever they’re called on one side, and a clear path on the other. Once the bridge flips to the clear side, there should be just enough time to get all the way to the other side if we run like hell.”

Venti thought for a second before responding with, “Wouldn’t it be better for me to just… make a wind current at the start? Then no one has to worry about spinning bridges and torches at all~”

Oh. Right. You had others to help you. He could make a wind current and you could just. Skip over it. 

“...Yeah, that might be better. I guess I’m so used to having to rely on my own skillset here that I don’t realize others can help. Also, I’m probably just... tired. Anyway, after that first room, there’s a… door with a guard who acts like he’s about to piss his pants, but after that, there’s a big room with a bunch of smaller rooms inside and we’re going to have to find a key to move on. My question here is, should we split up or stay together while we search?”

Diluc was the first to chime in this time. “Normally I’d suggest we split up, but under these circumstances, it’d be better to stick together in case something goes wrong.”

“Alright.” You said. “We’ve been standing here for a while, I think it’s finally time to go in.”

Diluc adjusted his gloves, and you all went in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once again, Kaeya gets to witness [Y/N]’s powers of possession; except now, he isn’t the one experiencing it.

After everyone entered the hideout, Aether had vanished, and Diluc, now wearing a Fatui mask, stood in his place. Something about this whole situation seemed… familiar, for some reason. Nothing like this had happened before, right? …It’s probably just déjà vu. 

“Come on, let’s just get this over with.” [Y/N] said, nudging Diluc forward.

Now, Diluc had the same slightly-inhuman movement Aether had when [Y/N] was using him as their “avatar”. He was somewhat used to seeing it on Aether, but it was strange seeing Diluc move like that. When he was under their control, he could only move his eyes, and now, he couldn’t even see Diluc’s, as they were covered by the mask. 

Venti did as he said he would, and made a fairly large wind current to carry everyone over. He made it look incredibly easy. If it wasn’t for him hearing other Anemo Vision bearers talking about their experiences, he would have thought that was something anyone could do.

At first he thought [Y/N] had been hiding something from him, but he had a feeling they weren’t. Something was certainly… different about Venti. He couldn’t merely be just a wandering bard. Until Kaeya found out who he truly was, he figured he would stay on guard around him.

Diluc- No, [Y/N] walked into a small opening, thinking there might be something in the room it led into. There was a chest inside, guarded by 3 small Electro Slimes. They made quick work of them, unsurprisingly, but they weren’t paying attention to the fight, instead focused on something else.

They left the room and headed to a large door guarded by a very nervous-looking Agent, just as [Y/N] said. They went up alone to talk to him, and switched avatars to the Traveler, who was also wearing a Fatui mask. The Agent did not seem to notice the change.

“No, NO! Don’t eat me! Ah? You’re… You’re human? The entire floor’s defenses… have been broken. I thought it was the Abyss Order attacking…” 

[Y/N] said “Hey,” testing whether or not he could hear them. No response at all. They chuckled a bit, and he could swear Aether said something, though he couldn’t hear anything.

“AH- No, do- We hi- The place- I don’t kn-” 

“This guy-”

“Y-you- One of the Ele- Signora-”

The Agent pointed his sword at them in both fear and anger, still shaking, still not noticing the person he was speaking to change forms in front of him. So to get the key, they have to venture further in, also just like [Y/N] sai- Wait a minute, did he actually hear that guy say any of that? He definitely heard him say the floor’s defenses were broken… and then [Y/N] checked if he could hear them… and then they laughed for some reason… and then about 5 seconds later, the conversation was over. Something must have happened; there’s no way he could have said that much in that little time. He looked at where the man was again, only to see that… he was gone.

Kaeya turned to [Y/N], who now seemed nervous, and simply asked, “... Did you notice anything unusual there, by chance?”

“...Shit, you did notice. Uhhh, so remember when you first met Aether and you didn’t know his name until I told you because you didn’t hear it even though you knew what was said? I might have done the thing that does that again.” 

Which was what, exactly? They hadn’t explained it yet, but now wasn’t the time to get an explanation from them, so he reluctantly decided to move on from that.

They opened the door and though he couldn’t see her, Paimon decided now was the time to ask questions.

“Did he say Signora? What a strange name…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kaeya had described to Diluc what it felt like, and although it did feel exactly as he described, he definitely wasn’t used to it. He felt something watching him that he didn’t feel before, but when he looked in its direction, there was nothing there. He didn’t think much of it, as Kaeya had mentioned something like this to him. It was likely where [Y/N] was looking at Teyvat from.

[Y/N] talked to a guard, and for that conversation, he was thrown out of his body, now watching the Traveler from a similar position [Y/N] was. Was this how they saw the world? Strange, but again, exactly what Kaeya described. 

Other than that, Diluc didn’t notice anything off with the conversation, but Kaeya apparently did. Diluc wasn’t the type of person to miss things, so he knew something weird was happening when [Y/N] responded to him in a way that practically confirmed something was off. He made a note to himself to ask them about that after this was over with.

He didn’t understand how that fairy thing- Paimon, was talking. Where was she?

“Number 8 of The Eleven. Goes by the name Signora. The fact the Fatui can run amok across the seven nations like they do is entirely because of The Eleven.”

That was his voice talking. Was that what he sounded like? …Whatever, it was just another thing Kaeya had told him about. He had been surprisingly reliable so far, but he still wondered if there was something important he was leaving out.

They entered a large hall, with a large door at the opposite end and two rooms on each side. There was a mechanism in the center that needed a key, and it presumably opened the large door. …If [Y/N]’s system hadn’t taken control of him, everyone could search one room on their own. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, so it was better they stayed together.

They first searched what seemed to be a storage room. No one was there, so they searched every nook and cranny without interruption. At least, until a few Pyro Slimes came out of nowhere, which his abilities couldn’t provide much help with. Sure, if everything was normal, he could use just his sword instead of his Vision, but…

Kaeya and Venti made quick work of the slimes, since Venti could make a massive wind vortex to suck all the slimes in. No key to be found in there. They moved on to the next room, which stood a single guard. He seemed to stop paying attention to anyone other than the Traveler once he started talking to him. The Traveler tried to convince the guy he was part of some alliance and wanted to “borrow” the Holy Lyre, but he obviously didn’t believe it, especially not when he offered a single apple in exchange for it.

A Cicin Mage appeared, and they fought. His Pyro abilities would actually do something here, but [Y/N] still wouldn’t engage in fear they would hurt him too, with how Pyro and Electro interact. It ticked him off a bit. Fight. He told them before they all went in, it was fine if he got a few scratches, just fight, don’t just run around like a headless chicken. Did this have anything to do with them being a pacifist? She’s already attacking you, just defend yourself. Fight. It’s an easy opponent, he could easily take care of her if he could just- fight. 

His body stopped for a second, then pulled out a sword he’d only seen in legend, sending off a fiery phoenix at her, setting the blade ablaze. Was he back in control?

[Y/N] screamed, before going completely silent. Diluc heard something fall to the ground with a clatter, and could feel someone watching him in fear. Was that the point Kaeya and Venti were looking at?

He still couldn’t do much. He was only able to mimic the same few repetitive motions, and even those were incredibly difficult. Every movement felt like breaking out of chains. But still, he pushed. How was he able to do this? Kaeya couldn’t escape it after hours, but he could do this after minutes? The mage was defeated, and [Y/N] finally spoke up again.

“I didn’t do any of that. …Diluc?”

He tried to move more freely, but he couldn’t do anything except that same moveset. How did he even do that? He looked around, trying to get the attention of someone, but he realized he was wearing a mask. He had no way to communicate with anyone. 

“I… I don’t know, maybe my controller just glitched? Let’s just keep going.”

…There goes any hope of being able to break out of it. He shouldn’t have thought it was that easy. Still, how was he able to control himself at all, even if it was just for a few moments?

They checked the last room that was downstairs, which had a chest with a few Cicins around it. Just like the other enemies here, they weren’t an issue at all. Thankfully, the key was in the chest, and the group managed to open the door. [Y/N] said there was one more fight, and then they could get the Holy Lyre, and this whole thing would be over.

“Hey, you wanna know the guy's name?” [Y/N] asked. They sounded more and more tired by the minute.

“You know his name?” Kaeya scoffed. “If you know that much, you might as well tell us what he says to us.” 

He was acting as if he didn’t believe they really could see such things, but he obviously believed it. He was just saying this to squeeze more information out of them, wasn’t he?

“Oh my god, fine, but I’m not going to be able to do stuff like this all the time. First of all, his name is, I hope I’m saying this right, Zamenhoff…? And as soon as we go in there, he says- wait should I do the voice? I’m doing the voice. ‘Where did you rats scurry out from… Signora is not going to tolerate this kind of interference in our affairs. So I'll be the one to take care of you - save her the trouble of having to deal with you herself.’ …I’m sorry. I think I need to go back to sleep.”

That was probably the least professional telling of the future he’s ever heard, but as they walked into the last room, it turned out to be accurate, just as everything else they’ve said has been. They were audibly exhausted, and he could only think of one time they’ve taken something completely seriously. Should he have let them take control of him? It hadn’t gone too horribly yet, and it was almost over, but he started to get a little nervous. 

They entered the fight, and once again, he tried to perform those repetitive moves. [Y/N] was actually fighting this time, but he wanted to contribute something as well. They didn’t seem to notice anything was off this time. The Agent was defeated, and finally, he was fully in control of his own body again. He immediately let out a large sigh. 

“Signora is going to end you. The songs bards sing of your demise will be so terrifying - the people of Mondstadt will never sleep again for the nightmares they give them.” Said the Agent, now escaping. [Y/N] mocked him while he was saying it, speaking at the same time as him, but in a far more dramatic tone. 

They mocked Paimon too, even trying to match her high-pitched voice. He will admit he found it a bit funny, but he kept a straight face, unlike the other two, who couldn’t help but chuckle. She shot them a look before vanishing again.

“You alright?” [Y/N] asked him.

“Well, I’m not dead, so that’s something.” That… definitely could have gone better.

“So… Back to the tavern now, right? Wait, Venti, aren’t you still wanted?”

“Ahh… That may be a problem… But can’t we just teleport back?” Venti sheepishly said.

“We can only teleport to waypoints, at least as far as I know, and the nearest waypoint is right next to the plaza with all of the shops. I know it’s literally the middle of the night, but I don’t think we can be sure there won’t be anyone out. I don’t want someone seeing people appear out of nowhere.” [Y/N] had a point. Doing that when someone was near may have consequences.

“So I suppose we’re walking, then? I’ll walk ahead, and make sure any Knights patrolling at this time are… looking the other way.” Kaeya said, already going ahead of everyone else.

No one said a word for a bit. Venti had a slightly worried expression on his face, as if he was hoping whatever plan he had would work. [Y/N]’s avatar had that same expressionless face as always, which was… creepy, sometimes, but they seemed like they weren’t paying attention to anything now. Normally Diluc wasn’t one to break the silence, but he had something to say now.

“That wasn’t an issue with your controller earlier, [Y/N].”

“...Hmm?” They replied. They sounded… completely out of it. “So you did that? How?”

“I don’t know. I hope you don’t take any offense to this, but your… pacifism doesn’t exactly suit the way I do things, so, I broke out of it, in a way. I wasn’t able to fully break it, but I managed to do something.”

“So the solution to breaking out of it… is to just break out of it. Wow…!” They sarcastically said, before walking their avatar into a tree.

“I don’t mean for it to sound like that. I’m guessing I had enough willpower to resist your system a little. Again, not all the way, but I think I was able to at least do what you could.”

“That’s so weird… I think I’m gonna have to set aside some time to take a closer look at my system and figure out what’s up sometime.” They yawned. “But definitely not tonight…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

…God, you were tired. What the hell had happened in that domain? Somehow Diluc had managed to fight against your system, and do a bit on his own. How? No clue, but it was a nice surprise. 

You remembered that quest on that far-away island that you couldn’t finish the first day. After this, maybe you could beg Venti to take you there so you could finally finish it. There was still about… what? An hour and a half? before you were able to continue it. Yeah, never mind, screw that. There was no way you’d be able to stay awake that much longer. That nap just made you more tired. Guess that quest’ll stay unfinished…

The four of you finally got back to the tavern. Thankfully, Kaeya managed to keep any Knights from seeing you. You pulled up the Wiki again, and found your way to the page on the part of the quest you were at.

Sure, Kaeya was there instead of Jean, but everyone else’s lines were still the same. It looked like things would be on the right track. You repeated everyone’s lines as they said them, but only vocalizing Paimon’s, while just mouthing Diluc and Venti’s to not weird them out too much.

“From now on, you’ll be known as-” Oh, this part, where Paimon gives him a nickname and refuses to call him by his actual name ever again!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tone-deaf bard!” said Paimon and [Y/N] simultaneously. The bard didn’t seem too bothered by his new nickname.

So not only could [Y/N] could just pull up a word-for-word script of the “story” they knew whenever they wanted, but said story was accurate, also down to the word? That’s… concerning.

It had been a very long day… Kaeya hoped he could finally get some sleep. Everyone bid their farewells after agreeing to continue in the morning, and he left. Venti was still wanted, right? That may cause some problems. He made a mental note to tell Jean that the Holy Lyre was in safe hands first thing in the morning.

Again, he teleported to the Knights Headquarters, but now, he remembered why they didn’t teleport back to the tavern. Was anyone watching? He looked around, and could see no one. As for the last time he did this… He didn’t check, did he? …Whatever, it should be fine. He made his way to his dorm, and, now feeling he had enough energy to do so, actually did his nighttime routine rather than just passing out. He stayed awake for quite a while, making notes and pacing around before he finally felt tired enough to be able to sleep through the night.

Those thoughts of [Y/N]’s “story” continued as he drifted to sleep.

--------------------------------------------------------

“But I shall not bow to the will of fate. I am no pawn in heaven's plan.”

…Here he was, acting in a play, as a character destined for tragedy. Seemed familiar. His character was supposed to simply accept it, yet “he” had decided to improv a section on defying fate. 

Despite this being “improv”, it was obvious all of this, scripted parts included, was supposed to reflect his own story. He’d noticed the similarities when he first heard of the story, though he didn’t fully remember when that was, but it seemed even more accurate now, looking at it from a different view.

The truth was, the improv was no less scripted than the rest of the play, nor anything else he’d experienced for that matter. This “play” began much before this street performance.

Even though it felt as if it had been years, he still remembered the beginning as clear as day.

When the Traveler first appeared in Mondstadt, he was unable to clearly remember anything prior to when they arrived. Hell, other than the most major events in his life, he couldn’t remember anything at all, and even those major events were fuzzy. He knew his interests, and his relationships with people, but it was like he had some strange form of amnesia. He’d wanted to tell someone about what he was going through, but every time he got a chance, he would black out, and wake up somewhere completely different.  

To him, it hadn’t even been that long since he’d first noticed, but already, days had gone by. He “woke up” again outside of Good Hunter, in the middle of a conversation with the Traveler about something he couldn’t recall thinking about. It had been days. The periods of time he was being knocked out for were getting longer. He had to say something as soon as possible, but he found he couldn’t control what he was saying.

He quickly realized that he was bound to some sort of script. Sure, “fate” served as a loose script, but this was word for word. He wondered whether this was happening to anyone else, but had no way to check, since he was either stuck to this script or unconscious.

It would sometimes be months at a time now he would be unconscious, almost like slipping into a coma. The Traveler was there with him wherever he was, so he assumed they must have something to do with it, but he hoped they didn’t know they did. Maybe then he could still tolerate them.

Over time, it seemed like the writer started to tease him more and more. It started with a few jokes from “him” hinting at it being some kind of story, and now it was a whole play.

He was an actor, playing a character, playing a character destined for tragedy. The only difference between this play and his experiences was that in reality, he was given no choice on whether to take the role.

This little improv session with Prince Qubad made the audience think he refused to accept the fate he was given, that he rejected it entirely, but the story still ended in the same way it was written.

As he looked at it now, he was no different from Prince Qubad in this story. Or at least, “Kaeya” wasn’t. He knew how Qubad’s story was similar to his, yes, but this improv session added something to it.

There were two layers to the scripting. One was fate itself. Destiny. Most people knew about this, and it could be seen fairly easily, only needing the help of some magic. This already seemed like enough restriction, as it was supposedly extremely difficult to change, but there was even more on top of that, at least for him.

It looked like in the future, “he” would have to make a very important decision, and end up choosing a secret third option. While this would be rejecting his fate in terms of what the people of Teyvat consider it to be, he would still be following the narrative this second, stricter script had for him.

…Oh, the irony. Just like the play, the character is written to refuse fate. Sure, the original script may not have included that, just as “his” original fate does not include what he’s likely to do.

He’d been wondering whether he should keep trying to break out of this. Obviously, doing so would grant him back autonomy, but it would also be following the whole “defying fate” path set for him by whatever scripted this. Either way, he was still playing right into its hands.

“Perhaps there's an inept god out there deciding everyone's fates... much like the Akademiya student drafting Darbil's scripts. Yep, "inept" is a good word for it. Honestly, it might even be a little too civil to describe a god who turns fathers against their sons and is bent on endless warmongering... don't you think?”

Either somehow, he had managed to change the script slightly with his thoughts, or the writers were mocking him.

…It was the latter, wasn’t it? “He” continued on about how someone doesn’t have to follow the script if they don’t like it, like it was just that easy. He’d made up his mind. He had to get out of this, no matter if that was what the writers wanted.

The conversation was coming to an end now, he could feel it. The Traveler was about to leave, and from what he knew about their journey, they likely wouldn’t be seeing him again any time soon. Any second now, the Traveler would disappear, and he would be knocked out for gods know how long. Couldn’t they just stay a little longer…?

[rolling-storm-writing]

I love your headcannons! Can you do some headcanons on how it be dating Thor (gow) pleasseee :3

Dating Thor (GOWR Headcanons)

A/N: Hey everyone! It’s truly been a while huh? Well here’s a Thor/Top!Male!Reader, I haven’t written for this guy before so any comments or criticisms are welcome!

>>>>>(A little smut so MDNI)<<<<<<

Depending on when you meet Thor your relationship could be very toxic or very sweet.  In his early days the young god was a glutinous, mead drinking, blood thirty monster.  He’d met you after his fight with a red harried warrior, stumbling back to the nearest tavern and drinking his wounds healed.

Your giant form was tucked away in a small corner nursing a light beer and enjoying a savory slice of pie.  Your serenity ruined when the chair infront of you creaked with its new added weight to it.  The smell of blood and alcohol surrounded the disheveled god as his hazy eyes found yours.

“You a giant” he grumbled with a drunken slur as his hand gripped the handle of his hammer.  Your brow raised at him but not a word came out simply returning back to your meal.  This young Thor was used to getting his way without question and using force to obtain it otherwise.  He wanted a fight something to keep him busy and your calm attitude only made him antsy.  His leg bouncing impatiently with each minute of this silent stand still between you.

Even long after you left the god thought about you from time to time.  Leaving to search for the giant with “a sweet tooth” as he coined it.  You knew he was searching for you and when he did you were more than prepared.  But instead of fight you got something much better…

It was a hate filled bitter sweet exchange of pleasure.  The two of you tangled in the blankets of your bed, his loud moans filling the room with each swipe of your tongue on the underside of his cock.

Deep in his heart he hated himself and what he was, a half giant who killed his own people for selfish manipulative gains.  You were everything he hated, a man who looked beautiful, a cozy home, surrounded by neighbors that actually liked you.

Things he never had… things he desperately longed for.

You didn’t rush him out but let him stay curled up into your bed until the sun forced you both out.  He left wordlessly and gave barely a nod before he shot off into the air.  He never told anyone of you or about what he had done with you, his visits would grow more frequent to your home whenever he craved some kind of company.

And for your years this arrangement would continue up until the night of his marriage to Sif.  While he loved her his heart still longed for you even after his sons were born, even when Thrud was fresh into the world he thought of you.

He couldn’t keep his two lives separate and when Magni and Modi were little he’d bring them to meet you.  Letting them run through the piles of leaves that you’d build up just for them.  Teaching the boys to read runes and tell them giant stories and legends from eons before their birth.  

A stark difference to the way they lived back on Asgard surrounded by the toxic and manipulative hold of their grandfather.  Their memories of you were fleeting now that they had grown up and became the lap dogs their grandfather pushed them to be.

Thor was growing more bitter and angry which led to the official end to this relationship that you both had built.  It was only after the death of his sons then divorce did he come back to you.  His broken eyes looking over you with such a glassy look to them as if he wasn’t there.

His days and nights were spent with you until the end of days was upon you…

—————————————————-

A/N: Ngl I really like Thor and this headcanon should probably be something extended on, it really turned it more of a story than a what it was supposed to be. I think I’ll make a separate smut fic to go along with it but we’ll see.

i am working on some more smaller things so if you have requests feel free to send them on, hope you enjoyed and don’t forget your umbrella.

[black-rabbit-razumikhin]

Raz Reads Les Mis (XI)

Cosette - Fulfillment of the Promise to the Departed

Cosette, at her scrawny, underfed 8 years old has to walk through the woods alone to get water for the tavern

This is going to get confusing if I keep saying foster family, so foster father Thenardier and foster mother Thenardiess

Their dynamic is described as him being a mouse and her being an elephant

Hugo goes on far too long of a time explaining her appearance to tell is how horrible she is

And I know that was The Thing back then, but it made me see Thenardiess in a far more sympathetic light

Right up until she starts interacting with Cosette

A man wants water for his horse

But there is no water!

So Cosette is given a bucket which she is able to sit down comfortably inside and told to fetch water

It's dark, it's cold, it's dangerous, my little Cosette has nothing on her but a dress of cotton rags

On her way to get water she stops and looks in at a shop selling dolls, thinking about this beautiful doll she calls The Lady

But Thenardiess screams at her to hurry up and Cosette races off

She's conflicted, and considers not getting water at all, as terrified as she is of both her home life and the forest in the night

But eventually the fear of the Thenardiess and her punishment wins

Cosette fills the bucket with water but can barely carry it

She stumbles and falls and the bucket is about to tumble when it is taken from her by a large hand

... Jean Valjean?

Or is it the Boulatruelle we met earlier?

Regardless, man and girl walk back to the tavern

And Cosette asks to carry the bucket in so she won't get beaten

Cosette! This is not the childhood you should have had

She brings in the water, he asks for board

Thenardiess and Thernardier both think he's a poor begger so charge him exorbitant prices

He pays them easily

Strong, rich, hiding his name...

Surely this is Valjean right?

The nigtt goes on and he treats Cosette with kindness, buying the stockings she's knitting so she is able to play, buying her The Lady, who she is so scared of that she can barely believe the doll is for her, putting a large amount of money in her shoe while she is asleep

While this is happening, the foster sisters are dressing up a kitten and it's screaming and crying and the whole thing feels so cruel

Hugo says all of society is represented in the three girls

And it's got some heavy Christian undertones, but it's also written that I can't not side with the pious, spiritually rich but materially poor Cosette

The next day the mystery man buys Cosette from her foster family

Though not without a struggle

And not without Thernardier running after him and Cosette after they leave

He pauses in his pursuit only to think to himself that he should have brought his gun

And Hugo literally says that Satan could learn a thing or two from Thernardier's character

I mean he's horrible and a villain, but demonic?

I'm sure there will be worse people in this book

But Thernardier catches up to them and demands Cosette back

"She's not mine to give, I'm keeping her for her mother."

To which the mystery man hands over a letter

The letter signed by Fantine granting custody of Cosette to the letter's bearer

Fantine I miss you

But that answers definitively that it is Valjean fulfilling his promise to find Cosette

The end of the chapter explains that Valjean swam away and bought himself new clothes etc., everything we can expect from how someone would escape

I've read too much of this book now to realistically hope for anything good, but this chapter makes me want to hope. I want Valjean to raise Cosette in the way that Fantine should have. I want him not to be pursued anymore; I want her to know what genuine love and care feels like.

I forgot to mention above, but the Thenardiess has a son and she dotes over him until his crying gets too much and then she neglects him because she's bored? It's as if she has no acknowledgement of human life outside of where she chooses to see it. The whole situation with the foster family made me so mad, please let Cosette be out of that forever now.

[teaberrii]

Chapter 4: Déjà vu

You've been Cupid for as long as you can remember. You've brought countless soulmates together, yet you've never found love.

When you're assigned to bring two childhood friends back together, it should be simple until you unexpectedly catch feelings for the mysterious and cold Ph.D. student, Dan Heng, the man with a soulmate… the man with answers to your past.

Dan Heng/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

You and Dan Heng arrive at Angel's Tavern, the bar March told you about. The doors slide open without any noise, and you step onto the shiny, black marble floor. The walls are made of the same material; the only difference is the thin, green neon lights that run through the walls like veins. Lights floating in diamond-shaped fixtures hang from the ceiling.

Dan Heng walks up to a counter where a woman looks up from whatever she was doing and smiles. “Dan Heng? It’s been a while.” Then, she looks at you. “Oh? Who’s this? Friend of yours?”

You and Dan Heng glance at each other, but instead of replying to her question, he says, “Table for two. At the bar.”

As she ushers you and Dan Heng inside, you quietly ask, “Are you a regular here?”

“...I used to be.”

Once you and Dan Heng are seated, he calls for a shot. Then, he turns to you. “It’s on me tonight.”

“Since when are you so generous?”

The bartender slides Dan Heng his shot. He effortlessly grabs it. “...It’s my thanks for accompanying me tonight.”

“...Is something wrong?” you ask cautiously. “You look tired.”

He downs the shot. “Everything’s fine.”

That can't be further from the truth, and he knows that you know. Dan Heng is thankful you let it slide and order a shot for yourself. He watches you down the shot and puts your empty glass on the counter. Then, he orders another for himself.

“...I heard you went to the hospital today,” you say. “Did you get some valuable information for your research?” You see his grip slightly tighten around his glass.

“...Tell me something.” His shot comes, but he doesn’t drink it. Instead, he’s looking at you. “Does that sparkle in your eyes have something to do with how you know about my research?”

Since when did he start connecting the dots?

“Why do you ask?” Then, you ask for another shot.

He takes his shot. “...Because I want to know more about you.”

Your eyes widen slightly. Is he drunk already? Dan Heng asks for another, and you sigh softly. "Look, even if I told you, you wouldn't get it."

“Try me.”

You scoff just as his shot comes, and he downs it again. Fine. If he's so insistent.

After taking your shot, you say, "Yes, it does."

Dan Heng smiles slightly, and you look away when your cheeks grow warm. Maybe it's the cozy atmosphere, or you're feeling the effects of the shot. Whatever it is, that lazy grin on his face sends an unexpected heat throughout your body.

You and Dan Heng call for another drink… at the same time. Then, his eyes meet yours, and you awkwardly look away.

“...How does it work?” he asks with a slight drawl.

You give him a deadpan look. Your drink comes first, and you take it. "What? Are we playing twenty questions now? How's that fair when you haven't answered any of my questions?"

He spins his chair toward you just as a glass slides straight into his hand. “I did get valuable information for my research today,” he says calmly. Then, he takes the shot and puts the glass down. “...But… I wish I didn’t go.”

He calls for another glass.

“You’re contradicting yourself,” you say.

Dan Heng slightly leans forward. “...It’s my turn, Cupid.”

Is it just you, or does Dan Heng get a little bold when he's supposedly drunk? Is he drunk? You can't tell.

Before he can take his shot, you stop him by saying, "I think you had enough for today."

“...Just one more,” he drawls.

You grab his hand to stop him, and that’s when it happens.

“...It’s not going to kill you.”

You looked at the pear-shaped bottle that supposedly contained the liquor you were curious about. "That's what they all say. Next thing I know, I'm unconscious, and you're dragging my body into the middle of the lake."

Is that a smile you saw?

“If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t drug and drag you into the middle of the lake. That’d be too much work.” Then, the man popped open the lid. “...Let me prove to you that it’s harmless.”

“...What’s wrong?”

Dan Heng’s calm voice pulls you back to the present.

What in the world was that? A vision? A flashback? But of what? You saw yourself and a… creature that oddly resembled Dan Heng in the strangest ways. The man had horns and long black hair with teal-tinted tips. His clothing also looked very traditional; flowy sleeves and a green sash around his waist that fans out like a cape behind him.

“...You… didn’t see it?” you ask.

“See what?”

When you notice your hand is still on his, you quickly pull it back. “Nothing. I… I think I’ll stop drinking.”

Dan Heng looks at the shot in his hand. “...Can I take this?”

“You’re asking me?”

“You’re the one who stopped me.”

“I never thought you’d be an obedient drunk.”

He smiles, downs his drink, and slightly leans toward you. “...I’m far from drunk, Cupid.”

Your eyes widen when you hear him lower his voice. Why did he do that? And… why is your heart racing?

“I can call you that, right?”

Dan Heng leans upright. There it is. That lazy smile. And then there are his hooded eyes. Unable to hold his stare, you turn towards the counter.

“Sure,” you mutter. You glance at him. “You used up your question, by the way.”

“How is that fair?”

You sigh and spin your chair to face the counter. “Should I take that as another question?”

Dan Heng spins your chair back to face him and frowns. “You aren’t playing fair.”

You lift your hand, intending to put it on his cheek to check his body temperature. But you stop as you remember what had just happened.

“...You aren’t going to touch me?”

You quickly pull your hand back. “You could’ve worded that better!”

A small smirk tugs at his lips. Now you’re sure he’s drunk.

Then, he leans forward again. “Tell me… I want to know how you saw it.” Before you can say anything, he continues, “Don’t tell me I won’t understand. I will understand.”

You slowly put your hands on his shoulders as if afraid that touching him will trigger another… whatever that was. But when it doesn’t come, you gently push him away.

“...Let’s get you home, Dan Heng,” you say.

He stands upright, and you call for the bartender for the bill. But when he tells you everything has been charged to Dan Heng's account, you turn to him. Dan Heng smiles at you.

“I told you it’s on me," he drawls.

Well, this man thinks ahead.

Should you be amazed that Dan Heng can walk in a straight line despite being drunk? During the short time you were at the bar, he's already managed to surprise you in so many ways. What else is next?

You’re almost to the train station when he suddenly asks, “...Are you cold?”

“Um, no. Are you?”

He stops, which makes you stop. Then, he turns to you. “I am.”

…Is he expecting you to do something about that?

"We're almost to the station," you say. "...Just hang in there." When he pouts slightly, you almost smile. "Don't tell me you can't handle a little cold."

That’s when he suddenly reaches behind you and pulls you close to him. His arm is around your shoulders, and your mind goes blank when you realize he’s hugging you.

“What… What are you doing?” you ask.

“...Sobering up.”

“I thought you said you weren’t drunk,” you deadpan.

A small pause.

“...I’m sorry…” he says quietly, his voice cracking. “Can we just stay like this for a little longer?”

Something tells you this isn’t just about him trying to ‘sober up.’ Before you know it, one of your arms is around him. Soon, you’re gently stroking his hair.

“...It’s okay,” you say softly. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“...I have to save him,” you hear him whisper. “...I will.”

You aren’t sure what he’s talking about, but you still say as comfortingly as possible, “You will, Dan Heng. You will.”

When you close your eyes, you suddenly see it again.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

You put a cold towel on his forehead that felt like it was burning. The man closed his eyes, and you get up to make your sick guest some soup. You were about to leave when he asked, “...Why are you doing this?”

You looked over your shoulder; the man was staring at you. "What do you think? You're my friend, Young. Whether you're human or not… I care about you."

Dan Heng lets you go, and you instantly snap back to reality. There it was… that vision, dream, flashback, of the man who eerily resembles Dan Heng.

“...Are you okay?”

You look Dan Heng in the eyes. “...Fine.” Then, you look away. “I’m… fine.” You slip your hands inside your pocket. “The train should be almost here. Let’s go.”

You and Dan Heng are lucky enough to get seats on the ride home. It’s a Friday night, so the train is more crowded than usual. You see Dan Heng subtly dozing off from the corner of your eye. Then, you hear your phone buzz.

Pom: WHERE R U?

Before heading to the bar with Dan Heng, you’d told Pom you’ll be coming home late. Of course, you didn’t tell him you were going to drink with Dan Heng as you could already imagine him wiggling his eyebrows and everything.

“...Did I keep you?”

You turn to Dan Heng, who’s not looking at you but obviously noticed that you’re holding your phone as if about to reply to someone.

“It’s Pom,” you say. “I was talking to him before we went for drinks. He’s just wondering where I am.”

“You two seem very close.”

You turn to him. Is he sober? You think back to the moment of vulnerability he shared with you before you got to the station. Maybe it’ll be okay to share something about yourself.

"...Pom is the only one I have left," you say quietly.

Dan Heng turns to you, and his eyes are a little red.

“...What about your family? Friends?”

You face forward as you say, “I have none.” Then, quietly, “At least none that I can remember.”

The train enters a tunnel, and the people sitting across from you suddenly get up to move to the doors. As they do, you see your reflection in the window. But when you look at Dan Heng, your eyes widen.

There he is. The… creature. His face looks identical to Dan Heng's. Yet, there are horns on his head, and his outfit is the same one you saw. His gaze meets yours, and you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

“...Do you want to remember?”

You quickly turn to Dan Heng, who's looking at you. You slowly look back to his reflection in the mirror, but the creature is gone.

“...What do you mean?” you ask, turning to him.

“...Why dwell on the past when you can focus on the present? You’re making new friends. I’m… your friend.”

Then, before you can stop yourself, you say, "We might be friends, but finding out my past is why I'm here."

Dan Heng stays quiet, and you think he’s given up. But then he asks, “Are you using me?”

You look at him incredulously. “N-no! That’s not…” You sigh. “I think I like you better when you’re sober.”

The train comes to a stop. Then, once the doors open, you and Dan Heng get off. After leaving the station, you turn to him.

“No more questions for tonight, okay?”

Dan Heng nods. Then, as soon as you turn around, a large man talking with his friend accidentally bumps into you and spills his drink over his shirt.

“Ah, shit!” He glares at you. “Watch where you’re going.”

You frown. “You were the one who bumped into me.”

The man looks like he’s about to say something, but then you see Dan Heng step up beside you. He moves his arm as if to tell you to get behind him as he glares at the bigger man.

“Hey. Just let it go.”

At least the man’s friend speaks reason. Then, with a scoff, the men walk off.

“...You know,” you say, and Dan Heng looks at you. “You ain’t half bad, Dan Heng.” You chuckle. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t respond but continues walking. It doesn’t take long for you to catch up.

For the rest of the way, you and Dan Heng walk together in comfortable silence. You never thought he’d stick to his word. You send a quick text to Pom, who’s probably ready to command the entire police force to come looking for you.

In the elevator, you slowly glance at Dan Heng’s reflection. Will you see that creature again? Who is he? And why does he look so similar to Dan Heng? But most importantly, where are these… visions, flashbacks, or whatever they are coming from?

The elevator doors open, and Dan Heng glances at you.

“...Thanks for tonight.”

Then, he steps out and walks towards his suite just as the elevator doors close. You hear Gepard’s voice just before the elevator heads to your floor. As soon as you enter your apartment, Pom looks at you disapprovingly.

“Look who finally decided to show up. Did you and Dan Heng have fun?”

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Pom.”

Pom almost jumps off the couch. “I want to drink, too! Wouldn’t hurt to have some fun while we’re here.” But then he smiles. “So, why did he ask you to drink with him?”

You slip off your coat and hang it in a nearby closet. “...Something happened at the hospital today.”

Pom’s smile vanishes. “He went to the hospital?”

“It was for his research,” you say, sitting on the couch. Pom sits on the opposite side of you. “...I don’t know what happened, but he was obviously really down.” When Pom stays silent, you look at him curiously. “What are you thinking about?”

“Oh, well… you know how I told you I talked to Stelle today?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t mean to, but… I overheard her talking to who I think… are her parents. They were talking about someone named Caelus.”

“...That’s Stelle’s twin brother.”

“She has a twin brother?”

You nod. "I don't know much about him though." Then, you tell Pom about March and how she told you he's studying abroad.

“...If that’s the case, I don’t think Stelle’s buying it.” Pom sighs. “Anyway… this was actually her last event for a while. She’s going on a hiatus.”

“For health issues? That’s usually the case for celebrities, isn’t it?”

Pom shrugs. “I don’t have an answer to that. Maybe it has something to do with Caelus… But, hey, maybe this means we'll get our job done quicker.” He scratches his head. "For once, I don't know if that's a good thing or not."

Now, it’s your turn to be silent.

“...Cupid?”

You look up at Pom, who’s looking at you curiously.

“I saw something strange today… when I was with Dan Heng.”

“Strange? Like what?”

So, you tell Pom about what you saw and the creature who looks like Dan Heng's doppelganger.

“...Young?”

“I’m pretty sure that was his name,” you say. “At least… that’s what I called him.”

Pom leans back. “Hm… I’ve never heard that name before. And you said he looks like…”

“...A dragon? A human dragon?”

“If he really exists, shouldn’t be he on the Astral Express?”

“I thought so, too. Maybe he’s not around anymore…”

“Or…” Pom leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “What if Young is Dan Heng?”

You raise a brow. “So… he’s like laying dormant inside of him?”

“Maybe. I have no idea, but Dan Heng is the only other person who can see the flash in your eyes. Just from that, he’s already not normal. I wouldn’t be too surprised if there’s like… another being sleeping inside of him.”

But the question still remains. What does Young have to do with you?

“...I know we’re supposed to be doing a job, but…”

“...You want to drag it out,” Pom finishes.

“Himeko says we’d find this job more exciting than the others. I think she knew about what we’d find here.”

Pom smiles. “Well, I’m down to stick around. It’s pretty fun as a human!”

And it looks like Himeko is finally fulfilling her promise.

◆◆◆

The loose sleeves of your white and red hanfu flowed behind you as you ran into a more secluded area in the forest. Twigs snapped beneath your wooden sandals.

“She went this way!”

Eventually, you reached a small, deserted wooden cabin that you'd discovered last week when you were on your own in the forest. When you opened the door, you weren't expecting to see a young boy around the same age as yourself. He was wearing a white hanfu, except he'd ripped one of the sleeves and used it as a bandage for his wounded hand.

He turned around with wide eyes. “Who are you?”

“...I could ask you the same thing. I've never seen you before.” You cautiously approached him. When you were close enough, you crouched. “How did you get hurt?”

Silence.

When you saw the blood was soaking through the sleeve, you extended your hand to him. “Can I see?”

“...I’m fine,” he muttered. “You should get out of here.”

You frowned. "You touched a Venom Brew, didn't you?"

Disguised and easily mistaken for normal mushrooms, one touch of a Venom Brew can quickly swell and make your hand itch like mad. As one kept scratching it, the skin would easily peel and bleed, making it look worse.

“How did you know?”

“Clearly you aren’t from around here.” You nodded toward his injured hand. “...I know how to make the pain stop.”

So, the boy reluctantly extends his hand. You quickly unwrapped the bloodied bandage and drew a small knife.

“You carry a knife with you?” he asked.

"...This is going to hurt," you said. Then, you make a slightly deeper cut into his hand. The boy flinched, and then you started squeezing the blood out of his hand. "You need to squeeze out the poison. You can't just let it sit in your skin like this."

Sure enough, the swelling slowly started to go down.

“Does it still itch?” you asked, not looking up.

“...No.”

That was when you ripped your sleeve and used it as a bandage for his wound.

“There,” you said. “All done.” When you looked up, your eyes widened, and you dropped his hand.

“...Please don’t be afraid,” the boy said.

“You…” You pointed to the horns that had mysteriously appeared. “Who—”

“Should we check the cabin?”

You turned around at the sound of the voices of the people who were chasing you. But before you made a sound, the boy put his uninjured hand over your mouth.

Then, the doors opened… and you smelled something burning…

Your eyes open, and you immediately sit up. It takes you less than a second to realize that the burning smell is not from your dream. You quickly get out of bed and rush to the kitchen to find Pom turning off the stove.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

“I wanted to make breakfast!" Pom says, staring at the blackened… thing in the pan.

You sigh out of relief. “Geez, Pom.”

“Did I wake you?”

You help Pom clean up as you say, “...You woke me from a dream.”

“Was it one of your nightmares?”

“...No. This one was… much more pleasant.” Pom looks at you curiously as you say, “...I think it was Young.”

You eventually find the opportunity to introduce Pom to March over the next few days. As for Dan Heng, you haven't seen much of him. Gepard tells you Dan Heng's been coming home late, sometimes staying overnight at the university. Gepard has also asked you if you knew what was happening, but you truthfully told him you didn't know. But you also keep that drunken night a secret.

You thought about asking Dan Heng if he's mentally okay, but you've lost count of how many times you opened a conversation to text him but end up not doing it. He also hasn't texted you either. But as the festival is right around the corner, you use it as an excuse to ask him how he's doing.

Dan Heng: I still want to take you and Pom to the festival.

You flop on the bed and begin typing a reply.

Shouldn’t you rest? It’s not a big deal.

Just as you drop your phone on the bed, you hear it buzz.

Dan Heng: It’ll be resting for me.

Well, guess that's the end of that.

You get off the bed and slide your phone into your pocket. As you come out of your room, Pom happens to poke his head from around the corner.

“Hey, Cupid. Are you hungry? I think I finally got the hang of cooking!”

You smell something… smoky and you say, "Just be careful not to burn this place down." Then, you walk to the door and slip on a jacket.

“Where are you going?”

“...The Astral Express.”

Pom steps out of the kitchen, revealing his black and white apron with the phrase “Kiss the Chef” on the front.

“Are you going to talk to Himeko?”

Ever since that day, you haven’t had any strange visions or dreams of Young, and you deduce that it’s probably because you haven’t seen Dan Heng. Regardless, you want to know if there really is a link between Dan Heng and Young and you. And there’s no better person to ask than Himeko.

“...Do you think she’ll really give you answers?” Pom continues.

“Probably not,” you say. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t try.”

Pom nods. “Good luck.” Then, he looks over his shoulder. “When you get back, I’ll be sure to have something ready!”

And then you’re off.

There’s only one way back to the Astral Express, and it’s the through your phone. But you must leave the way you came in. Today is a weekend, so while the trains are still busy, the campus is relatively quiet. Soon, you’re standing in front of the elevator that you, Pom, and Lan came out of. Once the doors open, you step inside and activate the app on your phone.

Then, everything goes black.

When you open your eyes, you're once again surrounded by floating clouds. The carriage doors open, and you head toward Himeko's compartment.

You don't get a chance to knock as the door automatically opens. It's as if she's expecting you. You walk inside, and you see her at her desk.

“It must be important if you came to see me in the middle of a job,” Himeko says, looking up at you.

“Were you expecting me?”

“Did you find out something about your past?”

You frown. “Maybe? I thought you might know something. A… creature named Young.”

“What about him?”

“Who is he? And… what does he have to do with Dan Heng?”

“Who do you think he is?”

"Why are you the one asking the questions?" you challenge.

Himeko stands. “This is me keeping my promise to you.”

"...So, he is someone from my past," you mutter.

"...Young is no longer here."

Now, you’re even more confused.

You sigh. “You really want to make me work, don’t you? You can’t just tell me everything?”

“Trust me. You’ll end up with more questions than answers if I did.” Suddenly, she appears in front of you. “...The only thing I can tell you is to be prepared.”

“...For what?”

“The answers you’re looking for may not be the ones you want to hear.”

Chapter 5

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @seirenspinel @lxry-chxn @tanspostsblog @theprinceofkhaos @nqctre

[critical-roll-fanfics]

My Protector (Grog x Fem!reader)

Listening to the thumping music of the band playing on stage, I look around, looking for the man that said he would be there. Sighing I go up to the bar, sitting down in front of it.

"Hello love." A man with a thick, red beard sat down beside me. His firey red hair matched his beard perfectly. His green eyes the same color as the mountains in the spring time. Some thing about this man was offputting though. "I've heard tales of elven beauty but I have never seen it for myself." He leans in a little more as he says this. "How about I buy you a drink sugar?" He holds up his hand to the bartender to signal he wants two drinks.

"Sorry but I'm here to meet someone." I say looking at him, leaning away from him.

"I don't see anyone." He says, looking around the bar. The bartender set two drinks down in front of us, giving me a wink as she did. The man takes his, pushing mine towards me.

"Sorry but I don't feel like I should be drinking right now." I look around franticly for anyone to help me. He grabs onto my hand, pulling my closer to him.

"Come on sugar." I cringe at his pet-name.

"No!" I say trying to pull away from his grasp. That was untill I saw a very fimillair hand on his shoulder.

"Didn't ya hear the pretty lady?" His usual deep, groff voice, slightly deeper to establish his dominace in the situation. I saw the red haired man swollow hard as he turned around to look at the golliath.

"Who are you?" The red haired man asked, tring to sound tough, misserably failing.

"Your worst nightmare." Was the golliths last words before he punched the shit out of the dude, knocking him out cold.

"Thank you Grog." I say looking up, smiling at him.

"Your welcome lovey." He says, kicking the body of the red haired man away from the chair, taking the seat he was siting in just moments before. He looks down at my drink. "You gonna drink that?"

"No Grog." I push the tankard toward him. He smiles down at me before taking the drink and downing it in a few seconds. He slams the tankard back down on the bar, letting out a knarley burp as he did so.

The bartender comes over to us, "What can I get you lovely people?" I could tell that she was trying not to offend Grog, in fear of ending up like the man laying on the floor.

"I just would like, a like, whole barrel of ale, uh please." Grog's voice was light and sweet.

"Oh ok." The barmaid responds before skittering off into the cellar.

"How long was that guy bothering you?" Nodding his head over to the body laying on the floor, rousing to concousness. I detected a bit of sadness in his voice.

"Not very long, he maybe got a few sentences in before you showed up." I take his large hand in both of mine.

"How many is a few?" The confusion evident on his face making me giggle slightly.

"Like 5ish." He tilts his head as I say this.

"Is that a lot?"

"Not really Grog."

"Good." He takes him free hand to grab the stool I was sitting on, pulling it towards him, catching the guys pinky, making him finally come to full concoussness. Screaming. The red haired man stood up from the ground. causing Grog to stand up and face him, Puffing out his chest a slight bit.

"You crazy motherfu-" He didn't get to finish his sentence before Grog pulled him in close by his collar, lifting him off the ground.

"Get lost." Grogs voice was stern. I couldn't detect anything but fear on the red haired mans face. He nods real fast. Grog set him down to let him run out of the tavern, which he did. The barmaid came up to where I was sat and where Grog was standing, setting down the barrel. I watched as Grogs face lit up at the sight of the barrel, rushing to sit down and start drinking the ale. The barmaid smiled at me and backed away slowly.

"You know Grog," He puts his barrel down onto the bar and looked at me.

"Do I know what?" He tilts his head in confusion.

"You are always there when I need a bit of muscle to get me out of tricky situations." I lean my head onto his bicep.

"Yeah." He looks down at me.

"Your like my own special protector."

"yeah."

[toastandjamie]

So an AU where Mat isn’t Ta’veren and becomes our POV in the Black Tower.

Now the first dilemma I faced was how much Mat should be integrated into the main plot, especially given that the Black Tower isn’t created until book five. So here’s what I got so far input for what this goofy little guy should get up to is welcome.

So after Winter Night, Perrin, Rand, and Egwene go with Morraine and Lan leaving our non-Ta’veren ordinary guy Mat behind. Now Mat, not knowing the details, is quite upset because as far as he knows his two best friends just ditched him to go on an adventure without him. When Nynaeve goes after them Mat tries to tag along but Nynaeve very firmly sends him back home. However, Ta’veren or not this is still Mat Cauthon we’re talking about so he goes after them himself. He spends the rest of Eye of The World having narrow misses with the plot, running into Thom at Whitebridge after the Myrdraal incident and drags that poor man all the way to Camlyn only to discover that he once again missed his friends and now has no idea where they’ve gone.

In The Great Hunt we find Mat traveling with Thom and Dana as an apprentice Gleeman, until they meet up with Rand in Cairihan. Rand tells him about the the horn but leaves out the whole, he’s the dragon reborn bit. Now this version of Mat doesn’t believe he’s a hero but he also has yet to discover Consequences so he really wants to be one, so he immediately insists on joining Rand to find the horn of Valere. Rand tries the tried and true method of being the worst to your loved ones to drive them away for their own good but while it DOES upset Mat, you aren’t shaking him that easily especially since he’s already invited to that party Rand and friends needs to break into. Things end up going relatively the same from their and they all go to Falme, Mat gets a late reveal there that Rand is the Dragon Reborn, we have Seanchen problems and Mat is still the one to blow the horn of Valere.

The Dragon Reborn baby, in order to try and keep Mat safely out of the plot Rand convinces him to escort the girls back to Tarvalon. Now no one but Rand and Perrin know he blew the horn of Valere and at their urging Mat decides to keep it that way, but he quickly finds that when your a man and not Ta’veren or the known sounder of the horn of Valere you very quickly get bored of the White Tower. After spending some time gambling at every tavern in Tarvalon and training a bit with the warders and Gawyn and Galad, the girls give him the letter for Morgause and send him on his way no Armylin permission slip required. Things go pretty similarly as they do in the book, Mat picks up a depressed Thom, discovers a plot to kill the girl’s, gets some fireworks and breaks into the Stone, though he is now slightly less effective without his supernatural luck.

The Shadow Rising finds our boy Mat feeling severely put out and a bit helpless. The girls as usual were less then grateful for the rescue and Rand and Perrin are too busy to talk to him. He still goes to Egwene for advice and hears about the Red Stone Door and still goes through it, though this time he actually gets to ask his three questions before getting kicked out since there’s now only One Ta’veren in there. Mat’s still contemplating what his confusing answers mean when Rand pops out, and things continue from there as planned. This time however Mat does not go to the Wastes and instead joins Thom and Julin as unwanted bodyguards for Nynaeve and Elayne. Hilarity ensues. More importantly however during the Tanchico arc Mat starts considering the possibility of learning to channel. After all, the girls aren’t wrong about him not being much help against the black ajah without channeling. So using the scraps of information he has he tries to teach himself how to channel. But it’s not going so well. However once they reach Salidar he finds a certain someone who might be able to help with that…

In Fires of Heaven and onwards we get more of Mat feeling helpless to protect his friends and using his most powerful weapon, his puppy dog eyes, he gets Logain to grudgingly agree to help teach him though one problem is that Logain is gentled but Mat won’t let that stop him. Egwene shows up, Logain is de-gentled and Mat get’s the bright idea to take the bow healed Logain and head to the Black Tower. Mat proceeds to get tangled up in both the Black Tower sub plot and Elayne’s Succession plot line. He also finds Olver at some point. That’s all I got so far

[its-jaytothemee]

Tonight...And Every Night - Chapter 4

Pairing: Astarion x Tav, Halsin x Tav; Astarion and Tav POVs

Word count: 1,653; Chapter 4, Astarion POV

Rating: Mature

Read on AO3

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Summary: Tav fails to convince Astarion to reject the Rite of Profane Ascension and refuses to help him complete it. He leaves her and the party, but regrets his choices later. Angsty and fluffy, POVs from both Astarion and Tav.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Spawn!Astarion, Angst w/ Happy Ending

Author's Note: This was inspired by my playthrough where I somehow failed all of the persuasion checks for Astarion after the Cazador fight, leaving me obviously devastated. First three chapters will come together, then hopefully one or two at a time after that!

Astarion slowly shuffled his way across the streets of Baldur’s Gate. The sun was setting across Grey Harbor, bathing everything in a soft warm light. He didn’t really know where he was going, he just kept taking step after step until he found himself in front of the Elfsong Tavern. He only had a few gold coins on him, the rest was of course in Tav’s pack. He figured a good stiff drink was as good a use for his little remaining gold than anything at this point.

‘You couldn’t have even tried to loot the bastard’s palace before you left, idiot?’ He chastised himself again.

The tavern was crowded, as usual. He found a small table in the corner and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head as he sat down. His nervous eyes darted around the tavern, intensely aware that he no longer had any backup if he ran into trouble. A chipper voice startled him nearly out of his chair.

“Hey there, traveler! Can I get you a drink?”

Astarion looked over to see a friendly, familiar tiefling. She gasped when she saw his face. Lakrissa started looking around the tavern, obviously looking for his companions…his former companions.

“Astarion! It is Astarion right?”

“Yes, that would be me.” He answered flatly.

“I do hope you don’t take this the wrong way but you look awful.” She set her empty serving tray on the end of the table.

“I’ve had worse.” He grumbled. She gave an uncomfortable laugh in response.

“Where are your friends? Should I clear a bigger table for you?” She smiled at him sweetly.

“No that won’t be necessary.” He heard the involuntary crack in his voice and felt the tears welling in his eyes again. Lakrissa studied him for a moment and then placed her hand over his and gave it a soft squeeze.

“I think you could use a drink, my friend.” She smiled at him and disappeared back into the bustle of the tavern. He blinked away the tears threatening to run down his face.

Eventually Lakrissa returned with a wine glass and sat it in front of him. She also returned with another tiefling.

“Well, well. If it isn’t one of the heroes come to save Baldur’s Gate.” Alfira’s sing song voice teased as she sat across from him. Lakrissa turned to walk away, giving a quick wink to her partner in crime.

“Oh yes, hello bard.” Astarion managed to mumble out to her as he took a large drink of the wine in front of him. It was the perfect level of sweetness, Lakrissa had a good eye for wines.

“Where’s the rest of your merry band?” She asked innocently. He felt anger and embarrassment and despair rising in his throat threatening to choke him.

“Change of plans, darling. Looks like they’ll have to save this city from the Absolute without me.” He took another large drink of his wine. When he sat the glass back on the table, he saw Alfira studying him intently.

“Would you like to talk about it?” She asked after a moment.

“Not even a little.” He replied, keeping his tone ice cold.

“Alright, my apologies for bothering you then. It’s obvious you’d rather be alone right now.” She started to stand up from her seat.

Alone. A spike of panic ripped through his chest at the word.

“Wait…” He started. Alfira stopped just a couple of inches off of her chair. “I…I’m sorry. It’s just been a long day. Please…sit.”

She smiled and sat back down in her chair. Astarion shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t really one for small talk. She absentmindedly plucked at the strings of her lute, quietly humming along with the notes ringing from them. Alfira was the one to finally break the silence between them.

“You know, I had really lost all hope before I met you and your friends.” She was still softly strumming her lute. “I remember when I first saw you and your companions stroll through the gates of the Emerald Grove, covered in goblin blood and desperately seeking a healer.”

“Yes, yes. A real group of knights in shining armor.” He said with an eye roll. He picked up the glass in front of him and gently swirled the dark liquid around.

“To a group of scared, displaced, and battered refugees? Yes. That’s exactly what you were.” She stopped playing her lute and stared Astarion down over his glass of wine. He looked away, ashamed of himself all over again. He would have never agreed to help the grove, that was almost all Tav. Sure, everyone else agreed they could stop and help those in need, but she was the one who insisted on it.

“Well my dear, I hate to be the one to ruin your fantasy, but I had nothing to do with that.” He drank the rest of his wine down in one large gulp, stinging his throat. He looked back to Alfira who was giving him a puzzled look. Giving an exaggerated sigh, he continued.

“If I was alone, I would have walked right by that grove. I would have let you all be slaughtered by goblins. Hells! I probably would have joined the goblins if I thought it would have saved my own arse.” The confession felt oddly satisfying to him.

“But you weren’t alone. And you did keep us from being slaughtered by goblins.” She countered.

“No,” he insisted, “I didn’t. That was all Tav.” Saying her name caused the pain in his chest to return, nearly knocking the wind out of him. Alfira seemed to catch the break in his voice over her name.

“Ah…” She smiled, “So this is about her.” Her voice started to take on a bit of a teasing tone, but he shot her a warning look that stopped her from continuing.

“So why did you stay then?” She said after a moment.

“Excuse me?” He didn’t even try to hide his confusion.

“Why did you stay with her if you didn’t agree with her choices? If you didn’t agree with her leadership? You could have left. You could have stayed safe in your camp, you could have hid from the fights. You didn’t.” She had set her lute to the side, folding her hands in front of her on the table.

“What do you suggest I should have done? Wandered off alone in the wilderness? To fend for myself? With a fucking mind flayer tadpole in my head?” He realized he was starting to raise his voice, and it probably wasn’t the best idea to announce his condition to the entire tavern. No one nearby seemed to notice his little outburst.

Alfira studied him for a moment before answering, her brows furrowed.

“Yes.”

Astarion could only blink in response. Before he could speak again, Lakrissa arrived with another glass of wine, and he immediately took another large swig.

“There were countless opportunities for you to leave, Astarion. You could have parted ways with everyone the moment you reached the city. You could have cowered with the rest of us at the Last Light Inn, waiting to be rescued. You didn’t.”

“Like I said…all Tav.” He countered. “Not to mention I needed protection from the aforementioned tadpole, and she carries the artefact that allows that.”

“So why leave now? You’ve followed her into nightmares most would never recover from. You’ve helped people against your better judgment all because she simply asked you to. Why?”

He knew the answer of course. Because he would do anything to gain Tav’s approval. He would do anything to see her smile, to hear her laugh, to feel her touch…but he also knew that he didn’t deserve her.

“So?” She prodded, her sweet face seemed to see straight through him.

“I…” Astarion stammered.

“She loves you, Astarion. It’s horribly obvious.” Alfira said with a smile. “The way she looks at you? There’s no doubt about it.”

“You don’t understand…” he started, “I hurt her. Badly.” Astarion looked away, shame welling up inside of him again.

“Did you try apologizing?” Alfira asked.

“Not exactly.” His stomach lurched, but for some reason he felt compelled to tell Alfira everything. Every gory detail of his past, his treatment of Tav and his other companions, everything. He suddenly felt suspicious.

“Did you charm me, bard?” He asked, slightly defensive. She just chuckled in response.

“The guilty mind sees tricks everywhere. Unfortunately, my bardic capabilities start and stop with music. No magic here.” She held up her hands innocently in front of her face. Astarion relaxed slightly.

“I…ran away.” He admitted. And with that, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He tearfully recounted the events of the day. How he betrayed the trust of Tav and his companions. He told her of the awful things he said to them. She was hanging on his every word. He told her about his relationship with Tav, how he meant to manipulate her into protecting him but ended up falling for her, hard. He told her how he felt about Tav, how she made him feel safe and seen. He briefly told her of his miserable life with Cazador.

Alfira sat back in her chair after he finished his tale, thinking on his words.

“Wow,” she said quietly, “it seems our hero is even more incredible than I thought.”

“That she is.” He responded, staring into his glass of wine.

Alfira grabbed his free hand with both of hers, bringing his attention back to her.

“Listen, we’ve both been to the literal hells and back. We’ve seen horrors beyond comprehension and come out the other side alive, odds be damned. If you have found someone that makes all of that suffering worth it…” She looked away briefly to glance back at Lakrissa who was cleaning up a spilled tankard of ale. “What the fuck are you doing here drinking alone?”

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

Shadowhunters

Dona Nobis Pacem by lawsofchaos (+ podfic)

Part 2 of Consular High Warlock Magnus Bane

"When Alec kneels before you on that dais, Magnus,” Jace keeps going, “he’s telling every person present that it is your judgement, your respect, that he places before all others. In you placing that rune on his neck, Alec is publicly proclaiming that it’s your blessing and your judgement on him and on his reign as Head that gives him the right and the authority to uphold the Covenant.”

Magnus' throat is too tight to speak, but there’s a distinct shimmer visible in his suddenly unglamoured eyes.

Oh My God Dad, You Can't Just Ask People Why They're Blue by Ellegy42

"Nothing weird ever happens when Rafe sneezes,” Max complains into Papa’s stomach when he finally gets home.

The Sandman

Right Place, Right Time by sherwoodfox

Over the centuries, Hob had dreamt plenty of dreams about his friend from the tavern. All good dreams, of course.

Very good dreams.

Usually not dreams that featured either of them wearing very much clothing.

But until the talking bird told him otherwise, he hadn't considered that those dreams might be real.

(Featuring: a live Jessamy, Hob rescuing Dream from the fishbowl, a mess to clean and a happy ending.)

The Witcher

Every Word by GoldenDaydreams

Jaskier kept his secrets close. The fewer who knew, the fewer could hurt him with the curse—it was a secret he intended on taking to the grave.

The grave might just come early.

Hannibal

They Came to Florence or: Plagiarize This Fic by shiphitsthefan

Author William Graham has had a book on the bestseller list for the better part of a decade. He's also a recluse—no interviews, only a rare book signing or lecture. Otherwise, no one knows much about the man beyond the words in his novels and the requisite headshot on every cover. Even the blurb printed underneath his scowling, bespectacled face, framed by a head of messy curls—

“Oh my God,” said the woman strapped to Hannibal's surgical table, “will you please just kill me already?”

-

Dr. Hannibal Lecter has a thriving psychiatry practice and a not-so-secret obsession; William Graham has an impressive writing career and not a single goddamn clue

DC (Batfamily)

still feel your teeth around my organs by gladioar (deargalileo)

drake isn't getting out of bed. damian doesn't know what to do. thankfully alfred and dick do.

Untamed

See Me, Feel Me (Listening to You) by Ghost_Honey

Letting himself get cursed may not have been the smartest thing Wei Wuxian has ever done, but he'd argue that it’s completely in character. So he should earn some points for consistency, at the very least. Besides, when the spirit had been explaining it, the curse hadn't sounded too bad. Maybe a little bothersome if he underestimated how many people felt strongly about him, but surely, surely, it wouldn't be enough to hamper him in the long run.

Let it be known that Wei Wuxian is an idiot.

Because, when he emerges from the dilapidated husk of the temple, he can't see anyone

Or: Wei Wuxian gets cursed so he can’t see or feel anyone who feels strongly about him and assume this means that the people he cares about actually hate him.

[gerrydelano]

Hi i would. Looove to hear about this fantasy au (bonus points for gerrys fucked up origins thanks for the food)

scrambles to sit up and falls out of my desk chair in the process. Bless You, Anon. Bless You. i will limit this to the first side quest because even that is long as fuck but it Is gerry centric which means it's food for Me.

okay So. the key tenets here are:

tim is the pov character

the stokers knew sasha and martin as kids until martin moved away with his dad after his mom's passing (wild!)

danny was taken by the fey at like 18. BAD.

after two years of training and study, tim and sasha are about to set off to find him or get revenge (it's a death wish) just as martin swaggers back into town a new man (he spent a decent chunk of his money on glamors that are tantamount to HRT while traveling back to their hometown after he super left his shitty dad's house) and he elects to come with them because It's A Death Wish and he doesn't want tim to get into trouble, and also he has like... nowhere to go anyway. might as well keep adventuring, but this time with friends.

they go to a coastal city to ask adelard dekker for some advice, and he sends his apprentice along with them. hi jon!

and then once they're on their adventure........ we meet a mysterious figure.

they do a lot of little bounty hunts and side quests for money and whatever obviously and so at one point they get enlisted to find some heirloom for some guy and right as they're about to get it, oops! insert Guy In A Featureless Silver Mask Riding On A Black Dire Wolf, Who Then Swoops In And Takes The Heirloom First.

What.

they hate this guy. they can't stand this guy. they wanna beat this guy up for doing that. he was so scary though so what do you even do. they ask around town and find out he's The Black Rider™ and he has a habit of doing this shit and they should stay out of his way.

they find melanie in a tavern and jon recognizes her from their childhoods because surprise! THEY grew up together. and she's been Away for a while after she ran away with josephine, her first love, who ended up dying about a year later. she's been too ashamed to return home alone. she is begrudging about reconnecting with jon, but she does end up hugging him and crying about this. i love them. bad weather friends.

she joins their party in time to run into the Black Rider again, who once more is trying to get something before they get it.

this time they get some awkward banter out of him though so they figure there is some kind of person under there.

and the Third time they encounter him, tim tries to cut to the chase and offer an olive branch of friendship, only for the black rider to attack them with his big scary halberd and it's like DUDE! WHAT THE FUCK!!!!

the fight is pretty intense but they do outnumber him, so tim gets him on the ground with his sword under his chin and he can feel the dog breathing down his neck but she isn't biting - because the black rider has held up a hand to stop her.

tense! and kinda sexy.

they agree to lower the weapon/call off the dog on the count of three from sasha, but tim hesitates longer than the black rider does. intriguing.

he leaves and they realize he still took the bounty they were after. G-d DAMMIT!!!!

then a few weeks later they meet some guy named gerry in a dungeon and he helps them fight off some zombies or whatever and they vibe for a few days, he seems nice if not a little weird, and they get along well. he dips after a bit and it's just a standard interaction pretty much. neither here nor there.

then they're fighting a cockatrice at some point and the Black Rider comes in to help them! odd, but accepted.

oops! his mask gets knocked off.

martin, being the nice guy he is, goes to return it to him and sees his face - gasp! it's gerry! who EVER could have guessed!

after they defeat the cockatrice they really have to have a whole ass conversation about this because Seriously Dude What The Fuck.

he ends up talking to them a little bit but not much, he's cagey and now seems kind of... nervous? what gives, right.

after a bit though they offer to let him come with them because tim is like "oh my g-d. you're LONELY 😆"

and he'd be right.

but there's a lot more to it than that.

eventually he caves and tells them, "we're being watched." by who? his patron, he says, after taking his time deciding on the wording.

he's never told anyone this before. he didn't even know she couldn't Hear him too, only just found that out.

then after a little while he fucks off for a bit without an explanation, and they're like. wtf.

when he comes back to find them, he explains that he nearly stabbed tim in his sleep one day because he's not only being spied upon, but his body is able to be controlled by his patron.

they are understandably upset about this and have to put in some protective measures to prevent that from happening again. he's no longer allowed on night watch.

but he's clearly distraught with guilt and like... they can SEE the humanity in him, they can SEE that he hates this and he needs help.

martin is a Redemption paladin by now and he wants to help him really badly.

tim needs... some time.

jon suggests they put a blindfold on him now and then to help him feel more at ease talking about things without fear of being spied on and it helps sometimes.

they travel for like 9 months before gerry trusts tim enough to show him what's really going on, while they're bathing in a lake after a battle that left them covered in blood.

he moves his hair aside to show tim a sigil branded on his back.

mary did that to him when he was 12.

so, basically, this guy hasn't had a shred of bodily autonomy or privacy in half his life. it's disgusting honestly like literally if you think for two seconds about the logistics of this it just gets more and more upsetting. bad!!!!

so they've already wanted to break his curse but it's just. tim can't stand this knowledge. he still doesn't know it's his mother yet, though. that stays on lock.

the group goes on to meet with mikaele salesa for some help, and gerry refuses to go anywhere near him. fucks off again with no explanation.

but they take the opportunity to ask salesa if he knows anything about the black rider etc and he says BOY DO I KNOW HIM. HE'S WHY I HAVE SO MUCH PROTECTION AROUND MY HOUSE LOL.

gerry has stolen so much from him and killed some of his guys and it's like YIKES. but salesa Also knows about mary.

she's been collecting super powerful artifacts for ages now trying to give herself more power so she can become a lich. uh oh!

and tim, who has made a Paladin Oath with Death by now, is now assigned by HIS patron to go and kill her before her transformation takes place, because she would be defying the natural order.

so, they go find her scary tower and are intent on fighting her, only to find - gerry?

and boy does he look rough. he looks Bad right now he hasn't been having a good time while he's been gone.

mary is in the middle of her ritual and she halves her focus in order to control gerry into fighting for her and eventually the fight is looking bad enough that she switches tactics.

she has him point the knife at his own throat.

because she did spy a little bit of the tiny intimate moments between gerry and tim, try as gerry might have to keep his eyes averted or up at the sky or just anywhere But tim, and she knows the group has come to care about him. so, clearly this is a better threat.

sasha calls her bluff BIGTIME and says hell no are you gonna kill him, you put too much work into him, he's your only heir, you need him, you'd never go that far, blablabla.

and that much is actually true. but it looks pretty close when she actually has him break skin a little bit.

tim is very upset at sasha for potentially making it worse lol But

it does work

they manage to kill her and free gerry and it's a very complicated moment because like... dude that's his mom. she's all he's ever known, save the wolf she "got" for him when he was a kid that is now his closest companion, and the dryad who guards the forest outside (hi tazia!)

so it takes gerry and tim a while to like. recover from that. but they do.

meanwhile, before they leave mary's tower, they totally pilfer her magical objects and jon finds a peculiar glass orb... that looks like it's got spider webbing inside it.

and that's all i'll say for now! obviously this is the Side Quest i am most invested in, but the plot of this filled 15 pages of a timeline and it goes on until gerrytim die in their 70s lmao so like. Big Big AU. it takes like 5 years after this all happens to find danny and That is a huge mess, too. boy howdy!!!!

now i realize i can't surprise anyone with this plot if i did write it but like. chances of that are slim. this is still so niche. jdhdjdhfk. gtcu brand classes, not canon based at all.

[randomshyperson]

Mystery Club - Chapter Three - Wanda Maximoff x Reader Series

Summary: Returning to your hometown five years after leaving everything behind, including your best friend, is no easy feat. Getting involved in a secret club wasn't in the plans either. Or the one based on Life is Strange.

Warnings: (+18) high school au, best friends to lovers, mild/heavy angst mentions with happy happing, use of legal substances (alcohol, marijuana), violence, verbal aggression, explicit language, smut, triggers regarding sexual assault, mentions of death, grieving, hints of depression and anxiety, panic attacks, a lot of domesticity.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad || Series Masterlist

--//--

Chapter Three - Tavern, Tattoos, and Trust

Westview is a small town, which means there are few places to hang out. Odin's Tavern - yes, like the Norse God - is one of them. 

But old Odin died before you left Westview. His kids inherited the business, and together with their mother Frigga, transformed the place from a pool bar to a more family-friendly environment, yet considered funky with its good food and cheap beer. It was not the kind of place that the fussy folks from the Institute would go, for example.

And even if Wanda was a troublemaker now, she was still the daughter of rich people and lived in a house worth more than a year's salary of all the employees in that place. 

Maybe that's why the waiter was in such a bad mood when he attended to you.

"Maximoff, nice to have you here again." He greeted sarcastically. "Are you going to pay this time?"

Wanda didn't mind the rudeness, smiling mischievously as she walked past him to sit down. You cleared your throat awkwardly. "I left the money on the table, Bucky, if someone took it it wasn't my fault."

He buffs incredulously, shaking his head. "You really expect me to buy that one?"

But Wanda made an innocent expression, shrugging as she opened the menu. That Bucky guy sighed in defeat, turning his face to you to welcome you to the place as he pulled a small pad and pen from his apron pocket. 

As soon as you ordered your food, Bucky angrily warned Wanda that he was going to include the latter's price, and left dragging his feet. She rolled her eyes but didn't insist. 

You stared at her, your eyebrow raised in surprise.

"What?" she questioned.

"You have to pay for your food, Wanda. The staff members are the ones who pay for it when you don't." You reprimand her, but she snorts almost guiltily.

"Yeah, I know." She retorts, her fingers moving impatiently around the table - tapping, pulling napkins. "Charles had cut my allowance and I just needed a burger to make me feel better. Damn, I've been coming here since I was six, can't he hold a tab for me?"

You don't buy the story. "Why, because you're so special?" You retort with mild mockery that makes Wanda lock her jaw. Sighing, you move your unhurt hand to hold her anxious ones. "You can't take your frustrations out on others, Wands. And you can't expect to run from the consequences when you do things like this. Bucky could have called the police."

"Can we stop talking about this?" Wanda asks impatiently, pulling her hands away into her own lap. You swallow dryly, but don't take it personally. She never liked straight confrontations anyway. 

"What do you want to talk about?" your question makes her face light up softly.

"About us, of course! We have five years to catch up." She retorts. "I want to know everything you've been up to, and how you ended up back in this shithole that is Westview."

You chuckle, propping your elbows on the table before you start telling. You reminisce a little about Tony's heart disease, about the decision that you were better off living with Peggy and Steve in England, but that when your father's health deteriorated you returned to New York and stayed with him until he passed away. And then you mention the admissions letters for the student programs, and that when you saw the application to the Xavier Institute it seemed right to you.

Wanda chuckles at that.

"You should have picked a fancy academy in Paris, kotenok. Anywhere is better than this hellhole." She says, and you smile at her soft grimace. 

"Or maybe a Sokovian Exchange program, where I'd finally learn the language and be able to understand what so many nicknames mean." You retort but Wanda laughs mischievously, looking at you in a way that makes your face warm.

"Oh, don't be silly, my dear friend, you don't need an exchange program. I'll tell you now what they mean. I call you all the sweetest things, like kitten, sweetheart, darling, cutie..." 

You narrow your eyes at her with distrust because Wanda has a very suspicious little smile on her lips.

"I can't tell if you're mocking me now or not." You say to her, making her giggle. 

“I would never.” She guarantees without stopping smile, and that makes you even more suspicious than before. She seems ready to add something else, that funny look returning to her eyes, but your orders arrive next and Wanda forgets the subject when she sees the food.

You have the first bite at the same time, exclamations of satisfaction at the taste.

"Damn, I can hardly believe Frigga is still cooking so well." You comment as you finish chewing, reaching out for a napkin. 

Wanda smiles, murmuring in agreement as she chews. 

You eat in silence for a moment, but soon, you are stealing glances at each other, teasing and challenging one another in your gaze as to who will ask the first question of the afternoon. 

Wanda takes a sip of the soda, bites the end of the bio-degradable straw, and holds the glass with both hands, at least one ring on each finger. 

You only realize you are staring and absorbing every detail of her appearance because she lets out a short giggle, and you clear your throat, diverting as you are caught.

"I have to ask you something." You tell her as you regain composure, trying to transmit determination in your tone of voice even though your fingers are trembling from the way Wanda is looking at you as if she's going to eat you alive and enjoy it.

"Shoot." 

You clear your throat again. "Right. Wanda, why did you reactivate the mystery club?"

She frowns slightly, leaning over to take another long sip of her soda before shrugging. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" She retorts with confusion that you don't buy in the least. Not that Wanda isn't a good liar - she is, in fact, she used to be the best at it among the three of you when you were younger. - Now, she's barely trying. She seems interested in tormenting you for fun.

You huff softly. "Come on, Wanda." You insist, to the girl who has started spinning the rings on her fingers. "I know the club is back, and I also know that only you would have the audacity-"

But she cuts you off with a dry laugh. "And do you have evidence to back up that accusation of yours, milashka?" She challenges, and you stare at her in disbelief, biting the inside of your cheek.

At your hesitation, she smiles, pushing her tongue behind her teeth and looking absurdly beautiful with her eyes glittering with mischief. 

"I don't need to prove anything."

"Oh, but you do." She insists provocatively. "Have you forgotten how that works? If you have an accusation, you need proof. So the board can evaluate your statement."

You don't back down, leaning your arms on the table and staring back at her. "So you admit it? That the Club is standing?"

"I never said it wasn't. You accused me of being the person to reactivate it, and for this, you have no proof." She retorts with a little corner smile, and you roll your eyes impatiently, laughing with disbelief. 

"If not you, who else...?" You begin, but Wanda's gaze hesitates, and you understand. "Oh." Swallowing dryly, you try to meet her gaze again, but she pretends to be suddenly very interested in the fries. You clear your throat, and try more gently, "When did he do it?"

She shrugs, but you reach out for her forearm, and Wanda swallows dryly. It takes a moment, but she finally sighs and tells you, "As soon as we got into the Institute. Pietro always said it was meant for all three of us to be there, as we imagined it would be. He reactivated the club so we'd have something to remember you by."

"That's sweet..."

Wanda pulls her arm into her own lap, chuckling sadly. "It used to be." She says almost bitterly. "But we were growing up, Y/N. Our friends no longer wanted to participate in any silly scoter activities, or solve some childish mystery. They lost interest, and so did we. Pietro wanted to be popular, wanted to be captain of the team, and well, nobody wanted to be friends with the weird detective and his sister's little witch."

You frowned, shocked by the story. Wanda sighed, pinching her fingers in her own lap. "What happened then?"

She gives another sad laugh, "What do you think? The club was pretty much extinct, and Pietro figured it wasn't worth showing up for one last meeting. Instead, he went to a party with the soccer team. And well, the rest you already know."

"Fuck." You exclaimed in shock. Wanda cleared her throat, forcing a smile at you.

"We don't have to have these sad conversations at lunch, okay? I'll put on some music."

"But Wanda..." You started, but she was already getting up and walking away from the table toward the jukebox in the corner of the restaurant.

Since she was taking much longer than was necessary to choose a song, you glanced outside.

You saw Bucky putting out the trash, and smoking a cigarette with a blonde girl in the uniform of the gas station next to the restaurant. The name tag read 'Sharon Carter’. You looked forward to your table again, but you were no longer hungry.

Wanda kicked the jukebox softly, cursing low, and you sighed.

You searched your wallet for something to cover the bill, plus a generous tip before you got up and walked to the cashier.

"Hey, table 13." You said to the clerk with his back turned. Once the person turned, you choked softly. "Thor?"

"Y/N? Oh my god, look at you! All grown up!" He comments excitedly, moving a little closer to the cashier, gesturing. "I didn't know you were back in town!"

You giggle awkwardly. "Yeah, I'm studying at Xavier Institute for senior year. I got in last month."

"What? That's incredible!" Thor comments impressed. "But a month? I'm almost upset you didn't show up here sooner."

Your cheeks blush softly with embarrassment, and you give a lopsided smile. "Sorry." You mutter, but Thor chuckles, clearly not really angry. "But tell Frigga I came by, and compliment the food, it was incredible as I remember it."

"Oh, of course. Maybe next time you'll see her, just come on the twins' shift. You were lucky to see me here, I hardly ever stay at the bar, only when Loki has some unexpected event." He counters, pressing the cashier's button to open and check out your table. You hand him the money.

"And how are Loki and Sylvie?" 

Thor shrugs, smiling. "They're fine, when they're not running away from this job, they do some weird plays at the municipal theater."

You exclaim softly. "Are they still into magic?"

The blonde nods with a light chuckle. "Definitely, but magic shows don't pay as well. After they graduated, they went into theater. Sometimes they present stuff at your fancy school."

"I hope to see them there then." You say in a farewell tone, and Thor thanks you for coming one last time before you head back to Wanda.

Your cell phone vibrates midway, and you push the receipt into your pocket as you grab the device.

Kate has sent you dozens of messages, Yelena too. All about the fight. Peter tried to call. All wanted to know where you were and comment on what had happened. 

You could barely see the messages before Wanda reappeared, throwing an arm around your shoulders and almost making you lose your balance.

"Dude, will you get off your cell phone? Five years of not seeing me and you want to be typing with your rich friends." 

You laugh incredulously, placing a hand on her stomach and pushing her gently away. "You're my rich friend, grumpy." You mock and she grimaces but steps away. "My very possessive rich friend." You tease, though you put your cell phone down. "They're just looking for me because in case you've forgotten, I dashed off campus without notifying anyone after a bloody fight in the middle of the parking lot."

Wanda rolls her eyes softly. "Come on, who cares? No one saw you but me and Hill, and she didn't text you, I figure. The only person you owe an explanation to is me, and I'm right here, telling you to put down your phone and enjoy the afternoon with me." She bargains, blinking those lovely green eyes at you.

You don't know why Wanda is being so needy, but you don't really mind. You reach out your hand and pinch her nose in a way that makes her chuckle.

"Okay Maximoff, let's have some fun."

She leads the way outside, and you fail to realize that the music playing in the Odin Tavern is your favorite.

–//–

The leaves of the trees made sounds under your feet as you walked. The rays of sunlight streaming through the tall branches of the Municipal Park pine trees warmed your skin.

Wanda's jacket had been abandoned on the front seat, and her tank top didn't do much justice to covering the tattoo on her back, and you were biting your lip to keep from asking about it.

"I got it for my birthday last year." She declares without needing to explain why having caught you staring. "Not as nice as yours, though."

You snort in false indignation. "And I really believed that you weren't staring at me changing-"

"I wasn't staring!" She defends herself with a mischievous smile. "Although it was very difficult not to."

You chuckle shyly, patting her on the arm as you walk along the old Bear Trail - as you named it when you were kids because you could swear some of the bigger trees were shaped like that.

"I can't believe Captain Rogers took you for a tattoo, too." Wanda mutters.

You chuckle short, denying it with your head. "It wasn't him. It was Tony, before, you know. He wanted something for me to remember him by."

Wanda kicks a small stone on her way: "Kind of morbid, not gonna lie, the heart thing. But I suppose it's symbolic. And I didn't get a good look at it to judge-"

"My God, are you asking to see me shirtless?" You cut her off, stunned, and Wanda almost tripped on the way.

Her cheeks burning, she retorted indignantly, "What? I didn't mean it like that!" She defends herself, but you are laughing, and she sighs. "Oh, are you mocking me? Very funny, Y/N. Mature too."

She grimaces, and you step forward to mess up her hair, earning a loud grunt in return. Before Wanda can get her revenge, you were already running away from her.

You know the way like the back of your hand, and the trees begin to open up until you end up in an open plain, on the edge of what is both a park and an off-limits area. There are some old danger signs, and you bite your lips as you reach the low wooden fence.

" Slow down, Y/N! I smoke now, did you forget?" Wanda asks breathlessly a little further back, but you giggle, jumping over the wooden fence to continue the run.

The forested area gives way to dirty asphalt, but it is just as empty as the park area. You come out into a yard, and there is a row of houses ahead, all with thick timbers covering the windows and doors, with damaged and graffitied paint. 

A neighborhood nameplate lies destroyed on the ground, covered with mold and grass growing all over the place.

You stop walking to stare at the tall house in front of you, a half-breathless smile leaving your lips.

Wanda appears beside you, giving you a gentle nudge on the shoulders.

"You don't have to rush, you know. Your old house isn't going anywhere." She complains, stepping out in front of you, and you sigh before following her.

"Of all places, why did you bring me here?" You ask curiously, but Wanda limits herself to a short laugh.

She guides you along the yard, past the musty pool to the driveway. You notice that the lock is new, and you are not surprised that Wanda takes the keys from the car keychain there. 

The inside of the garage doesn't look anything like the rest of the environment. It's practically all renovated, like a cozy, very comfortable lounge. Wanda put leather armchairs, bookshelves, and even a television that you had fun imagining her carrying there. There was a mini fridge, soccer table, and even a washing machine.

"How...?"

"Before the renovation, we could bring the truck around." She clears your doubts about transporting heavier items. You look around in complete shock as Wanda closes the garage door. "But then those idiots at Bishop Security got the warrant to destroy the bridge and now I can only access this place through the park."

You trace your finger through some lost belongings, loose magazines, decorative objects, and more traffic tickets. And you recognize the blank mystery club cards just like America and Kamala's.

"No one has ever tried to go back to this neighborhood?" You ask with your back to her, continuing to look around. 

Wanda laughs wryly. "After all that? No chance. Someone tweeted the news of the radiation evacuation, and the mayor kind of declared this area uninhabitable even without the reports from Osborn's people, who insisted that it was okay to live here. Just like your family, all the rich people fled these houses overnight."

You chuckled humorlessly, reaching out to reach for a picture frame on the bookshelf. It was the Maximoff twins on Halloween of their 8th birthday, adorable in their costumes.

"And let me guess, Pietro thought this was a perfect hiding place." You commented, looking at the mischievous expression on your friend's picture. 

Wanda smiled, moving closer. "Actually, it was my idea." She counters, and you look away from the photo to her. "Pietro wanted to do that in the attic of our house."

You laughed. "Your father would have found out in a week." You comment, but to your surprise, Wanda's chuckle is short almost sad.

"If he paid attention, of course." She mutters, and you don't know what to say about that, so you say nothing.

She reaches up to move something on the wall, pulling out a bulletin board hidden behind the washing machine. She places it on top, and you watch her cross out yesterday's date with a pen on the calendar.

Before you can see more of the scribbles there, she hides the item back, and as she stares at you, she has an eyebrow raised in your direction. "For members only, malyshka." She teases.

You snort in indignation. "I founded this club."

She leans against the machine, shrugging. "You've abandoned this club."

You roll your eyes. "That's not true! We came to an agreement for its demise, and it's not my fault if you and Pietro decided to bring it back on!" You defend yourself, but Wanda has a mischievous grin and shrugs again.

"Really, Y/N, it's just protocol..."

"My god you are ridiculous!" You complain approaching to pick up the board but Wanda steps forward into your path and doesn't move out of the way. "Wands..."

A gentle nudge on your shoulders, and then another and another until you have taken enough steps backward to trip over the carpet and fall into the armchair.

"Dorogoya, here's what we're going to do." Wanda begins, raising a finger to her chin as she circles the armchair. "If you want to have membership privileges, you need to be recruited."

You huff impatiently. "I literally founded the club..."

"And as you remember, there are rules to being part of the group." Wanda ignores you completely, a mischievous smile on her lips as she circles the armchair. "Rule Number One, you need to be recruited by someone on the inside."

You make mention of getting up, but Wanda grabs your shoulder from behind and pulls you sitting on the leather again. Your speech about how ridiculous that was dies in your throat as she brings her mouth up to your ear level.

"But don't worry about that one, of course, I'm dying to have you all over me again." She teases huskily in your ear, and you shudder from head to toe. "Let's focus on rule two then."

Despite your nervousness, you handle retorting, "I got the rules out of an action movie, I highly doubt they mean anything..."

Wanda chuckles softly, pulling away to return to your field of vision. "Very little, but it's fun to watch you struggle with it. Consider it a welcome gift."

You roll your eyes. "Tormenting me is your gift?" You question, to which she only smiles. "I just want to know why our club is running again. Why don't you just tell me?"

You expected a smart or rude response, but Wanda stares at you seriously, and slowly leans in, giving you no choice but to back away until your back is against the seat. She rests her hands on the armchairs, her face at the same height as yours.

"You and I, detka, had our trust in each other shattered." She begins to explain, you swallow dryly. "So if you want to know my secrets, you're gonna have to prove yourself worthy of my trust again."

You stare into her green eyes and find no hesitation in them. That is until you let your gaze fall to her lips. But it only lasts half a second, and you are already staring Wanda in the eyes again.

"My apology wasn't enough for you?"

Wanda licks her lips. "Forgiveness and Forgetfulness are not the same thing." She retorts, clearing her throat softly when she almost leans in too far. Her gaze softens. "I want to trust you again, completely, like before you left, before the club ended."

You move a hand to hers on the chair. "Then just trust me, Wanda." You tried, but she shook her head.

"I need more than words, detka." She whispers. "You made promises you didn't keep, and I know it wasn't your fault, but I can't stop hearing them in my head. I need your actions to speak louder."

You swallow dryly, but nod in understanding. "Okay, Wanda, tell me what to do."

To your surprise, she chuckles, her frown frowning in fake confusion. "Tell you? Detka, have you forgotten how this works?" She teases, stepping away and standing properly. "It's the Mystery Club, baby. You solve a mystery to get in."

You bite your tongue, watching Wanda walk away to a locker. She stands on tiptoe to pick up a metal box at the bottom between the timbers, and it has to be on purpose the way she bends her butt toward you. You look away, your face burning, and she has a satisfied smile as she comes back to you.

She drops a card in your lap and crosses her arms. You take the item without opening it. "And what will you do for me?"

She sighs thoughtfully. "We could make out..."

"Wanda!" You exclaim in shock, blushing heavily. She laughs innocently.

"What? I'm sure you're a virgin..."

You grunt indignantly, getting up. "Fuck off if you're gonna keep making fun of me." You grumble angrily, making your way to the exit as Wanda tries to control her giggling.

You pull the garage door open, but before you can get out, she calls out to you.

"What do you need to trust me again?" She asks.

You sigh sadly, putting the letter away in your jacket pocket.

"I never stopped trusting you, Wanda."  You retort, and her posture breaks completely. She uncrosses her arms, and looks ready to say something, but loses her nerve. You hold the garage door open. "I'll be at school, call me if you need anything. Any time, any day."

A lump forms in Wanda's throat. She has a flash of memory - It's you at about eleven years old in her bedroom window, having gone to say goodbye to her on summer vacation because Wanda broke her arm and her father wouldn't let her travel. You are many centimeters shorter than you are now, but you look at her the same way and say almost the same thing: "I'll borrow my Dad's phone. You can call me, Wands, any time, any day."

The memory is gone at the same speed it came. You blink at her, and Wanda swallows dryly.

"See you soon, punk." It's your goodbye before you pull the door down.

Wanda thinks she's stupid for crying when she feels the tears on her face, but in five years, it's the first time it's been from happiness, so she doesn't really mind.

–//–

[ikeromantic]

The Old Switcheroo, part 1

Arthur and MC (Haruko) are cursed and end up in each other's bodies. Part 1 of 3. Approx words. 2400 Spicy. TW for gender dysphoric descriptions.

Arthur was doing his best not to raise his voice. He reminded himself that he understood why the love of his life *might* be questioning his commitment. After all, he’d crawled in to the mansion around three am and then stayed at his typewriter until breakfast. 

“I can’t believe you stayed out again all night! All night! I was worried!” Her lips were pressed to a thin, pale line, and she looked more angry than anxious.

“Luv, I told you. I got home at three. I just didn’t come to bed.” 

“Three? You think that’s better?” She turned away, refusing to look at him. “Every week, we go through this. Every week I sit home at night, wondering what kind of idiot I am to be dating you, while you’re out drinking and partying with - with who even knows!”

He snorted. “Drinking? Partying? Are you serious luv? I was out with Theo. He needed to de-stress. I am sorry we stayed out so late.”

She crossed her arms, still not making eye contact. “Theo got home at midnight. I know, because he stopped by to see if I was alright. Which you didn’t do when you came in three hours later.”

“I checked in on some friends, ok? Can you please just trust me? Please?” 

“I’m really trying.” She finally met his gaze and he realized there were tears in her eyes. He’d made her cry. Again. “I just wish, for once, you’d think about me when you’re out and about. Try a weekend in my shoes. Sitting through lonely nights. Worrying. Waiting.”

“And I wish you’d look at things through my eyes once in awhile! I damn well love you and there isn’t a tart on this earth that could turn my head, no matter how late I get home.” He held out a hand to her but she slapped it away.

“Whatever. I - I have to go help Sebas with supper. I’m sure you have things to do too.” 

Arthur watched her leave, a sinking feeling in his gut. He mucked it up again. But honestly, he felt like he couldn’t win. If she went out with him, she got jealous - either because some pretty skirt made eyes at him or they ran into one of his former bedwarmers - and if he left her home, he got this. What did she want? For him to stay here? No more tavern, no more whiskey? No more sweet scent of tobacco and dirty jokes and winking at pretty waitresses? 

Well, that was probably exactly what she wanted but he couldn’t give it to her. He had no intention of changing - she’d fallen for him as he was and she’d have to accept it one way or another. Arthur did his best to ignore the little voice in the back of his mind that tried to remind him she had other options. The soft voice that remembered how awfully lonely his long life was before she’d come into it. 

***

“Sebastian, I’m serious! Three am! And do you know what he told me?” 

Sebas sighed and looked up from the cutting board. “I’ve no idea.”

“He said I should trust him! That he was just checking in on some friends! Honestly . . .” She set down the spoon and poured the sauce from the pan to the bowl. “I just don’t know sometimes. I feel like I’m the biggest fool.” Her heart ached with uncertainty. 

Surely Arthur cared for her. And she enjoyed the time they spent together, of course. He was sweet. A conscientious lover. He was funny and smart . . . but she couldn’t ignore the way his eyes wandered or the vast history he had with what felt like every damn beddable woman in Paris. They couldn’t even go out for a coffee without running into someone he’d fucked. Or tried to. 

“Look. I know you’re upset. Maybe the two of you should just talk it out. If he could see where you’re coming from, he might be a little more sympathetic.” Sebastian shrugged. “It’s worth a try.”

“Pffft. I wish he could see things from my side. But he just thinks I’m crazy jealous.”

Sebas grinned. “Well you are, aren’t you? Just a bit.”

She laughed. “Ok, fine. Maybe a little. But with reason!”

“Mhmm. So sit down with him and tell him what makes you jealous and why.”

A few hours and a bottle of wine later . . .

“So what you mean to say is -hic- you’re worried one of those other skirts has something you don’t? Or - or - you think I’d get bored?” Arthur squinted at his beloved, her face swimming in the dim-lit night air. They’d chosen to talk in the garden where there was less chance of being interrupted. 

She nodded, chewing at her lip. “I mean, I guess? I just . . . I wish there was something I had of you that no one else got to try out first.” 

“You do. I didn’t love any of them. Only you. Gods, luv. I - I can’t say it any clearer.” Arthur felt helpless in this conversation. All his naughty proclivities splayed out in ugly detail. The sadness in her eyes was a mirror for his own regret. 

He wished she could understand that he’d never thought to find love. He was just trying to pass the time. Enjoyably. To distract himself. If he’d known she was out there, waiting for him . . . if he’d known it would bother her so much . . . “I wish you’d walk a day in my shoes before you judge me,” he sighed.

“Well I wish the same! You could see what it feels like to know every tramp in Paris has more than their eyes on your man.” She looked away and wiped at her face.

A falling star blazed briefly in the night sky above them, trailing a crimson ribbon behind it before it disappeared from sight.

***

Arthur woke the next day with the mother of all hangovers. His head felt like it was being split in two. His body felt weak and soft and he really just wanted to burrow into the sheets and sleep until it sorted itself out. But he needed to get up.

He needed to go find his little bird and apologize. They hadn’t parted on good terms last night. She was probably still angry, and it was definitely his fault. He sat up and pushed the hair back from his face. 

The room spun as he stumbled from bed. Everything looked off at the angles so he stared at the floor. He didn’t remember falling asleep in his lover’s room, but there he was. And in her nightgown too. Odd. But he was too tired and his head hurt too much to think about it right now. 

Arthur walked to the hallway bathroom and stopped in front of the toilet. He hoisted the hem of the gown - not his first time to wear women’s clothes, nor likely to be his last - and reached for his cock. The familiar feel of his sturdy morning wood, the release of the inaugural piss. 

His hand found empty air where the flagpole ought to have been. 

This pulled him to full wakefulness as nothing else could. His cock was gone. More than gone. It was . . . it was . . . his hands fumbled at the thatch of hair, the pubic rise.

He wasn’t a stupid man and this was familiar territory, even when discovered in such a shockingly wrong space. It was so strange that he felt numb, as if he were dreaming. Maybe he was and only imagined he was awake. The thought made him smile.

He still needed to piss, so he sat. It bothered him in ways he hadn’t expected it to. Sitting to pee. And you couldn’t just shake the thing off either! Arthur fumbled at the bidet and then wiped. Washed his hands. 

His eyes met his own gaze in the mirror and he screamed. 

He was her. That was her face. Her body under the frilly pink fabric of her nightgown. Her hands fumbling at the face in the mirror. He pinched himself - or herself rather - and it hurt. This was no dream. 

The door to the bathroom slammed open and Arthur stood in the doorway. Or, his body did anyhow. 

“What did you do?”

“Me?” Arthur gaped. He was looking at himself. Hearing himself. “What about you?”

She stormed into the bathroom and shut the door behind her, closing them in the small space. “Are you in here . . . touching things?”

Arthur drew back, hurt and surprised. “Touching things? As I recall, you rather like it when I touch . . . things.” He frowned. “Besides. I just came in here to piss and - and everything was, well, like this.”

After a moment, she nodded, a calm expression crossing her - his - face. “It’s ok. I - I had almost the same thing happen. I woke up and - and -” 

He watched his own skin blush brightly, a shade it had never held when it was his body. “You don’t need to say another word. I understand.” And he did. She must have woken up with a little surprise in more ways than one. 

She gave an embarrassed laugh. “Right. Right. Ok so what do we do?” 

Arthus sighed. “We can’t stay like this. Either of us.” 

They shared a look and said together, “Le Comte!”

***

She couldn’t believe this was happening. Waking in Arthur’s body had been . . . a shock. And now seeing herself - like this - it was overwhelming. The smell of her skin, so familiar, now aroused a hunger in her that she couldn’t have anticipated. A tightness in chest and groin, a thirst that stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Was this what he felt every time he saw her? 

It wasn’t the kind of question she could ask. And besides, they had more pressing concerns. Like how thin that night gown was! She shoved a robe into Arthur’s hands. “Put this on. I’m not letting you parade me around the halls like that.”

Though it was her face, the expression was all Arthur. Mischievous and sensual. “What’s that luv? Worried I might flash the count?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Are you seriously teasing me right now about using my body to cheat on yourself and me with le Comte?”

It took Arthur a moment to consider the implications. He shrugged into the robe. 

Le Comte listened to them explain their situation and recount the night’s events. His calm expression betrayed only mild amusement as they told him what happened to them. When they fell to a stuttering stop, unsure what to say next, he shrugged. “I have never come across this before.”

“What?” Arthur’s question flew from Haruko’s mouth. 

“I have heard of it,” le Comte continued, making a calming gesture, “but this is my first time to come into contact with this precise . . . phenomena.”

“So . . . what do we do,” she asked in Arthur’s voice. It still startled her.

“Well, most curses have some sort of trigger. A mechanism which causes the curse and which can be leveraged to undo the effects. We must simply figure this one out.” The pure blood’s golden eyes gleamed. 

Arthur lifted a hand to his chin, rubbing the smooth skin there. “I see. Yes. We said something about walking in the other’s shoes.”

Le Comte nodded.

“Wait, wait.” Haruko frowned. “Are you saying we have to stay like this?”

“For awhile, yes. Until you’ve experienced whatever it was you wanted each other to experience as you.” Le Comte smiled at Arthur, able to see Haruko in their depths. “I’d recommend telling no one what has happened. Go about your usual day and hopefully . . .”

Arthur and Haruko groaned simultaneously. 

Haruko’s high pitched voice made the first complaint. “So I have to . . . what? Follow Sebas around and dust the shelves? I have writing to do!”

“Oh ho, I guess that means I get a vacation and you get to do real work for the first time in your life,” Haruko spat back, wearing Arthur’s trademark smirk.

“Writing is work!”

“Please. You sit at a typewriter and eat chocolate all day while people bring you coffee.”

“Children, please. This argument is not going to help you lift the curse. Now go on about your day as normal and try to understand what you wanted to tell each other.” Le Comte stood and motioned them toward the door. 

Haruko sighed. It looked like there was no choice. She stood a little awkwardly, unused to Arthur’s heavier frame, and left. Arthur followed in her body, scowling.

“I suppose I’ll head to your - my - room and get to writing. Hurry up with my breakfast, hm?” She sauntered off, laughing at the shocked expression Arthur wore. 

She settled at Arthur’s desk and loaded up the typewriter. Checked the keys. Stared at the blank sheet of paper. All she needed to do was write a story. Anything, really. A line to start? 

The blank page mocked her. How did one begin this sort of thing? Once upon a time . . . It was a dark and stormy night . . . 

***

Arthur watched his own fine ass sachet down the hall. So it was like that, was it? Well. He’d show her. Being a maid was easy work. Simple. He could finish twice what she did in half the time. 

He got dressed and headed down to the kitchen. “Morning, Seba - ow!” His cheery greeting was met by a hard flick to the forehead. 

“Breakfast does not make itself, Haruko. I expected you here an hour ago.” Sebastian’s expression was severe. 

“I - sorry, old chap. It won’t happen again.” Arthur rubbed his head. “So what’s the plan?”

Sebas shoved a tray into his hands. “Carry this to the dining room and then head over to the laundry. You’ll need to strip the sheets for washing, and take the curtains down to be aired and pressed. When you finish that, bring up the potatoes and flour from the basement for lunch prep. I think eight bags of each should be enough. Then we can start lunch prep. And . . .”

Arthur’s brain refused to hear anymore chores. All of that had to be done this morning? “But what about my breakfast?”

“You? If you wanted to eat this morning, you should have been up an hour ago.” Sebas’ frown softened. “I did leave a muffin aside for you. You can grab it after the residents are served. Oh. And don’t forget to wake Napoleon.”

Arthur felt his shoulders slump. It was going to be a very long day. At least, he thought wryly, I’ll get a kiss out of it.

Next: Part 2

[wings-of-flying]

has been brewing in my head for a little while, but i'm imagining race swapped riptide au where jay and chip are tritons and gillion's a human

gillion is a human and i'm not fully settled on what he looks like but i imagine he's got quite thick and curly dark hair. and freckles. he must have freckles. and maybe pretzel's a bird and apple is instead the frogtopus. so gill would be from the navy of this universe, a sort of apprentice who's shadowing the admirals or something. he's still the chosen one, but has more emphasis on aster this time. the navy have taken him in (forcibly) to try and create an unstoppable warrior. but in a peace meeting with the undersea (he isn't really supposed to be there) gillion attacks one of the leaders - the son of the elder - and gets himself banished from navy soil. somehow he ends up sinking into the sea (don't ask me how, this is a half-baked au) and gets 'picked up' by the big chipper, with chip and jay

picked up is in quotation marks because can you really be picked up by a shipwreck?

chip is a triton, sorta light turquoise skin with seaweed green hair, he's not really based off a specific type of fish, just a generic triton type design. he used to be part of a shoal known as the black roses, a group of various aquatic humanoids that lived under the protection of the leviathan they knew as captain rose (in this au we're following griff @/apple-the-bluebird's idea that leviathans can transform into humanoids, cause it makes it easier for me). until, however, a tragedy struck in the eastern sea and, well no one really knows what happened but the black roses and captain rose haven't been seen since. he swam with reuben price (whose design i think should be like an eel triton) until that went south and he decided to settle in an abandoned shipwreck that he dubbed the big chipper

jay is a triton/water genasi mix, with her mother being a triton and her father being a genasi, so she ends up with dark blue skin and more elven ears, her hair's suuuper long and it's white but seems to glow almost orange in dim light. she's also very tall. big fish lady. she's the granddaughter of the one and only elder, so has a lot of pressure on her, but after her sister's death she chooses to work in her mother's undersea equivalent of a tavern (not much changes here). chip, swimming out every so often from his shipwreck to gather supplies, bumps into her and convinces her to hide out with him and she for whatever reason agrees (suspects someone under the wing of an old leviathan may have killed her sister)

and then they find this just regular looking human guy who clearly needs help and they get him a way to breathe underwater and he decides to just stay with them

extra notes that i'm just adding on the end:

shipwreck blows up because chip doesn't tell gill about the gunpowder he found below deck, or that the silly creatures he's playing with are sea lemurs that very much breathe fire. this causes them to keep travelling. the albatross is just what they call every shipwreck they stay in

the navy and the elders are completely switched, so it's the ferins that run the undersea (with grandma faye as the one and only elder) and the elders are known as the admirals

gill is very much still oblivious, just it's to undersea culture this time

the islands are different reefs/areas they travel through

shoals are like the equivalent of pirate crews. the elder and the ferins very much disapprove of them because they travel around generally causing trouble

caspian, edyn and finn are also land dwellers in this (everyone is completely race swapped, so any land humanoids are aquatic and vice versa). i imagine caspian's an elf though rather than a human

niklaus is a leviathan - this is important to me