#so he shall bear the pain in silence | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whatsk-poppinhomies · 7 months ago

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Pairing : Non!Idol College AUKim Seungmin x F!Reader TW : angst ; tsundere Seungmin ; reader injury but not super serious ; lots of use of the word fuck ; slightly suggestive if you squint ; mentions of drinking but reader doesn't ; fluff at the end though ; Word Count : 8.4k A/N : You all picked Seungmin and Seungmin you shall receive! I don't even know how long this will take to finish writing to post, I'm currently setting up this part on May 4th, so... works got me fucked up a bit. I finally finished it on May 27th jfc. I'm so sorry for making everyone wait! I hope you enjoy this Anonny! Request : Anonny : Could you do one with Felix or seungmin, you’re their best friend and you both have feelings for each other. Felix or seungmin finds out about it and goes out with girls to try and make you jealous but instead you end up distancing yourself from him because you can’t bear to look at him with other girls, he notices and comes to you and you guys make up and kisses and fluff pls 😊

“Bestie boo boo!!” You called out, running over to Seungmin and wrapping your arms around him from behind. You could tell it was him just from the back of his head, that’s how close the two of you were. It had been that way since middle school when your parents moved and you got transferred to his school. He was your first friend, your only friend for the longest time.

“Hate it when you call me that…” He mumbled, but you could feel his chest vibrating with silent laughter. What you couldn’t see was the deep red blush that covered his cheeks and the shy smile that tugged at his cheeks. For the longest time you looked at him as just a friend, the two of you had even dated other people through high school, consoling each other after breakups, being each other’s wingmen, the stupid shit that best friends do for each other in high school. Now that you were in college though, you couldn’t help but really see him, see him as more than a friend… The only problem was that he didn’t see you as anything more.

You lightly slapped him on the back, an overly dramatic scowl on your face, waiting for him to turn around. “Yah! Look at me…” He slowly turned around and you made sure to change the scowl to a pout when he finally looked at you. Neither of you could keep up the act long though, it took less than 4 seconds for both of you to laugh. “Seriously though, you’re bestie boo boo, it isn’t changing.”

He rolled his eyes before grabbing the strap of your backpack and pulling you closer. To say your heart almost jumped out of your chest was an understatement, all the years of watching k-dramas… was this your moment? “You annoy me. Why are we friends again?” He muttered, throwing his arm over your shoulder and practically dragging you along next to him as he walked. Your silence had him stopping and looking at you though, his eyebrow arched, a flash of worry glinting in his eyes. “I’m joking… That was a joke. I know that you’d be helpless without me.”

Your lips popped as your mouth fell open, the smug look on his face both aggravating and extremely attractive at the same time. “I am not helpless. I don’t even need you.” That was a lie, you needed him in more ways than what he was thinking, but you kept those thoughts to yourself as you moved out from under his arm and walked ahead of him. Your pride was short-lived as you stepped on a rock, your ankle twisting in the process and a tiny yelp leaving your mouth.

Seungmin had run over to you immediately, dropping his bag beside him so he could grab onto you, his hands firmly gripping your waist to hold you steady, and even though your ankle was sore, the electric feeling that coursed through you from his touch overpowered the pain completely. “You walk away for… what was that? 5 seconds? Maybe 6?” He sighed softly, shaking his head as he looked you over, and he must have taken the flustered look on your face as one of pain because he quickly grabbed his bag with one hand, his other arm staying around your waist as he slowly walked with you. “Is your ankle okay? I can carry you. Do you think you can make it to the nurse?”

“I don’t even need to go to the nurse…” You muttered, trying to upkeep your i’m totally fine act, all while also trying to keep your heart beating at a steady pace with his arm still wrapped around you. “You’ll just mock me the whole time anyway… I mean, who trips over a rock… so stupid.” You continued to mumble.

His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth and you were ready for him to start firing off the jokes that you’d most likely hear for the next month or so, but he let out a soft sigh. “I’m not going to make fun of you for getting hurt, I’m not a complete asshole.” You huffed loudly out of your nose, and little did you know, he thought every little thing that you did was absolutely adorable, he just didn’t know how to tell you. “I’m taking you to the nurse no matter what, so if you want me to carry you, I will.”

Oh to be carried by him, to be held in his arms… or maybe being piggybacked across campus, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding onto him so tightly… “No, I’m fine. It was just a little twist, they’ll probably laugh at me for coming in with something so small. It probably isn’t even anything.” He hummed softly, his arm moving away from your waist and you felt pathetic for noticing the lack of warmth immediately. The electricity that you had felt coursing through your veins was suddenly gone and it was strangely sad for you.

The lack of his support also meant that your weight was now completely on your ankle and you could feel just how badly you had twisted it. You winced at the pain that shot through your whole leg, and you either weren’t good at hiding it, or Seungmin was just really good at picking up on everything. Whatever it was, he quickly stepped in front of you, squatting down and hitching his arms around your knees to lift you onto his back. “You’re so stubborn.” He grumbled, and it’s like the added weight of you being on his back didn’t faze him at all. In fact, he started walking faster towards the medical building, a man on a mission, and being so close had the butterflies in your stomach going absolutely crazy.

“Try not to walk on it.” The nurse said as she finished wrapping your ankle that had swollen to twice its size by the time you got to the building. “Go straight home and prop it up on a couple pillows, put some ice on it to take some of the swelling down. Use the crutches. If it hurts, take some ibuprofen and that should help with the pain.” You nodded along to everything she was saying, but you weren’t exactly listening, focusing more on the way Seungmin was staring at you intently, and you didn’t know if the expression on his face was one of disappointment or annoyance.

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t walk on it and that she keeps it propped up. Thank you.” He spoke for you, bowing his head as he got up from the chair that was on the opposite side of the room. Grabbing your crutches, he walked over to you and helped you up off the bed, the paper underneath you crinkling loudly with every movement. “Do you need me to carry you again?” He asked, and you rolled your eyes, taking the crutches from him and situating them under your arms before doing your best to keep your balance and move forward at the same time, which was quite difficult.

“You can go to class, I’ll be fine.” You said, and while you’d love to get ahead of him, it was too easy for him to keep up with your little hops. “Seriously… This is so humiliating, I just want to be alone. Stupid fucking rock.” He sighed softly beside you, but he didn’t leave your side, always at the ready, his arms shooting out instinctively to catch you when you looked like you were wobbling a little bit. “Seungmin…”

“What kind of best friend would I be if I let you walk home by yourself on crutches?” He quizzed, but it was a hypothetical question that you both already knew the answer to. “I’ll make you some ramen too so that you don’t have to get up. I want you to keep your leg up, like the nurse said.” He continued, it felt like he was scolding you. “I’ll go to your classes and get copies of the lectures that you missed today so you won’t be behind.”

“Thanks dad.” You pouted, but kept staring at the ground, not just because you were sulking, but because you couldn’t seem to walk straight with the crutches if you weren’t watching your feet at the same time. You weren’t even sure how long you were going to need them for, but within the first 20 minutes, that’s all it took for you to dread them for a lifetime. Your underarms hurt and strangely enough, having “3” legs to walk on was more of a hindrance than anything.

“I can come over after my classes. We can watch a movie? I’ll keep you company while you’re healing since you can’t really do anything else.” Watching a movie with Seungmin… just the two of you… maybe it would turn into cuddling… maybe he’d kiss you… You could fall asleep on his lap while he runs his fingers through your hair. It would be a dream come true, it would be the perfect evening. “I’ll even bring snacks. I’ll buy your favorites.” It’s like he was trying to bribe you to say yes, not that he needed to.

“Sure… Yeah. As long as I can pick the movie.” You looked up at him with a pursed lip smile, the lack of attention on your feet had you stumbling a bit, and he quickly caught you again. He didn’t even have to look at you to know you were wobbling either, he just reached out to steady you before dropping his arms back to his sides. “This sucks…”

///

“Don’t you have baseball practice?” You asked tiredly as you leaned against his shoulder, curled up under a blanket on your couch, the movie playing on the television was just background noise at this point. “I don’t want the rest of the team to get mad… You’re their best player.” That wasn’t even you trying to hype him up either, he truly was the best player on the team. That’s why it was so hard for you to believe that he wanted to spend most of his free time with you. He was the all star player, every girl on campus had their eyes set on him, yet he made it seem like he only wanted to be around you. It just didn’t make any sense, and you wondered if maybe he was doing it out of pity considering you were less popular, well, you weren’t really popular at all.

You always caught the glares that the girls would send your way when you walked by with Seungmin by your side, and if you listened hard enough, you could almost hear them shit talking you, as if you were in some way forcing Seungmin to hang out with you. “Eh, they can handle one practice without me.” He said nonchalantly, stretching his arms above his head before getting up off the couch. “You hungry yet?” He didn’t even wait for your answer before walking to the kitchen and raiding your cabinets, pulling out two ramen bowls. “What are you gonna do when I go back to my dorm?” He asked, as if trying to make small talk while waiting for the water to boil in the pot on the stove.

“Probably gonna run a marathon, do my laundry, use the stairs in the building for the first time since I’ve lived here. Ya know, goof around a bit.” You teased, but when you turned to look at him, you could tell he was less than impressed at your answer and he didn’t find it as funny as you did. “Jeez, you’re such a sour puss sometimes. Obviously I’m going to listen to the nurse and keep my leg propped up. I’ll just be here, all bored, probably starve while I watch YouTube videos on my phone.” It was like you couldn't give up the chance to be a smartass, and Seungmin knew that, so he just rolled his eyes as he turned his attention back to the water that was bubbling on the surface now.

“Don’t you have any friends that can spend the night or something to help you out?” He questioned, and you weren’t sure why, but the way he said it made it seem like he didn’t really want to be there. Maybe you were just reading into things, you did have the tendency to do that, but you thought that maybe he would offer to stay to help you. Not just that, but you were sure that he knew well enough that you didn’t really have any friends, not ones that would willingly give up their nights to help you.

You don’t know why you were so upset honestly, but your bottom lip trembled as you looked around your living room, trying to look at anything but him. “Just forget about it. You can go.” You said softly, hoping that he’d hear you and he’d just leave without another word. The oven clicked off and you heard soft footsteps carrying him from the kitchen into the living room where you were sitting, your breath held, but then he came into your view, his eyebrows creased with worry as he looked at you. If you weren’t so upset, you’d laugh at him, but you turned away from him instead. “Seriously, you can leave. I can do this on my own.”

His eyes closed, a loud sigh blowing through parted lips, hot breath hitting the side of your face as you continued to avoid looking at him. “What’s wrong? Look at me…” His voice was below a whisper, although it was tinged with annoyance rather than the worry that masked his features. “I’m making you something to eat, what more do you want me to do? I’m trying to help you and you’re trying to kick me out. I don’t know what else you want from me.” It was evident that he was getting more and more irritated the more he spoke, and the fact that you still hadn’t looked at him was only upsetting him more. “Fine… Do it on your own.” He muttered, standing up straight and turning on his heel to head out the door.

Sure, simply explaining to him why you were upset probably would have been better, but you were too upset to talk to him about it. It’s not like he was unaware of why you would be upset at the comment he made. He knew damn well that you felt less than adequate being his friend when he was so popular and he was quite literally the only friend you had. He always tried to invite you out to hang out with his friends and their girlfriends, but you knew they didn’t actually like you, they simply tolerated you because for some reason, Seungmin liked having you around. To them, it didn’t matter that the two of you had been friends for so long. He was popular now, he was lusted after by every girl on campus, he was a star… and you were a nobody. He might have a bunch of friends that would help him if he were to get hurt the way you did… but you had nobody, nobody but him.

Kicking him out didn’t seem to prove any kind of point though, it only made you feel lonelier. You had absolutely no one now to help you, and while you knew that Seungmin was only a text away, you were sure that after the way you treated him he wouldn’t feel as inclined to come over and help you. You were truly on your own, and you didn’t know how you’d do anything without his help. You were adamant though, you didn’t need him, you didn’t need anyone. You were sure that he had better things to do anyway. You weren’t going to burden him. It seemed like he didn’t want to stay around and help you, not when he was asking if you had other friends that would be able to do it… Maybe he was trying to get rid of you.

///

“Thought you were going to be over Y/N’s all evening?” Felix asked as soon as Seungmin walked through the front door. Felix wasn’t exactly popular either, not in regards to being a jock, he was more into computer games that occupied most of his time. Both guys were sure that if they hadn’t been paired up as roommates, they wouldn’t even know of the other's existence. Yet, since becoming roommates almost two years ago, they had gotten just as close as Seungmin and you were. “How’s she feeling by the way? Is she okay?”

Felix was the only one that had been told of your accident earlier in the day. He was the only one that Seungmin thought would care. He knew that his baseball friends weren’t all too interested in you, and if it were up to them, you wouldn’t be hogging all of Seungmins time in the first place. “I don’t know, man. She got really upset and kicked me out… I thought I’d be able to tell her today.” Seungmin dropped down into the empty seat at the table that Felix was sitting at, running his hands over his face before dropping them down onto the table with a heavy thud. “Maybe she just doesn’t like me…”

Now if there was one thing that Felix knew, it was about Seungmins crush for you. It wasn’t even a crush anymore, it was more than that. Seungmin was head over heels in love with you, and Felix heard about it every single day. He had only found out about it when Seungmin had invited you over to his place for a bit, the first and last time it ever happened, and Felix had been there. Once you left, Felix had told Seungmin that he thinks that you’re really pretty. It almost turned into a full blown argument as Seungmin shouted about how Felix couldn’t have you and that you were his. That’s when it had all been laid out on the table, and that was about five months ago. Felix thought that Seungmin would have told you by now, but apparently he hadn’t. He couldn’t understand why though, it’s not like you didn’t like Seungmin back. That was painfully obvious… Did Seungmin not even notice? “You’re blind… Aren’t you?” Felix commented, and Seungmin lifted his head, staring at Felix incredulously. “She likes you… Even I can see that. I don’t know why you won’t just tell her, it’ll probably make the both of you feel better to just get it all out.”

“Dude, she doesn’t like me. If she did, she wouldn’t have kicked me out.” Seungmin retorted, and Felix felt like he was talking to a brick wall. How could Seungmin be so clueless? “I was literally in the middle of making food for the both of us! It’s like she got mad or something and just told me to leave. I asked her if she had any other friends to help her when I wasn’t there… Maybe she had her boyfriend coming over and what I said reminded her and she needed me to leave before he got there… She never told me about a boyfriend though. I feel like I would know about something like that… She would have told me…” Felix was absolutely dumbfounded by how stupid Seungmin sounded right now. Even Felix was able to figure it out immediately after knowing what Seungmin had said, but for some reason, he was just unable to put it all together.

“Dude… She likes you… Just tell her!” Felix said, trying his best to not get annoyed with Seungmins lack of critical thinking. But Seungmin shook his head, pushing away from the table, eliciting a loud groan from Felix whose head fell back to stare up at the ceiling in complete disbelief. “How long are you going to drag this out, man? The longer you wait, the lower your chances are. If she thinks you don’t like her, she might just move on. Think about that for a bit.”

And he did, Seungmin did think about it. He thought about it a lot. The thought was raising hell in his brain no matter where he was or what he was doing. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t focus in class, he couldn’t even focus during practice. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of you potentially being with someone else, and that pissed him off. You couldn’t be with anyone. You were his.

That’s why he started looking up what to do online, which probably seemed stupid to anyone else, but he couldn’t just outright tell you that he was in love with you. He wouldn’t be able to handle the rejection if you didn’t like him back. He couldn’t take Felixs word for it because, even though Felix was his friend, he was also the type of guy that thought that a girl simply smiling and waving at him meant that she liked him… Which was crazy.

In the end, he found a lot of ideas, but only one seemed like it would actually work. It was also easier to pull off than any of the other ideas he came across online. This one would be foolproof. If you didn’t react, it meant that you didn’t like him and he would finally be able to move on, although he wasn’t sure how long it would take for him to do that. If you did react though, he would know that you did like him, and he would finally be able to tell you. He hoped that it worked, it seemed like it would… He just really wanted it to work out in a way where you would truly be his in the end.

///

It had been two weeks since you kicked Seungmin out, and while you hadn’t completely ghosted him, your replies to his texts were rather short. You were still upset, and your mind was racing with the thought that he was slowly but surely trying to ease you out of his life. There were so many girls that wanted him, having you around was probably ruining his game with all of them, and, while you weren’t clingy to him by any means, the two of you were always around each other, and you were sure that made it hard for him to get with anyone else.

Still, his birthday was coming up soon, and you were finally fully healed from your little accident two weeks ago (you cared for yourself the entire time, even when Seungmin asked if you needed help), and you were sure that he’d have another party like he had every year before. You wondered if you were still invited though, and while you didn’t want to be the first person to text him, you thought that maybe sending him a quick Happy Birthday message would open the door for him to tell you, or at least ask you to come to the party.

“Hey… Happy Birthday, Min.” You quickly sent it, and like any other time you texted him first, your stomach would twist up in knots as you awaited his reply. Love was crazy in the way that it made people feel. It was like that feeling alone took control of all your other emotions and made them come out at times when they weren’t necessary, and it made them come out too strong… Which is why you kicked Seungmin out in the first place. You loved him so much that you were scared of him not loving you back so you tried to get rid of him completely. It was so stupid.

“Hey! Thanks! You still coming to my party tonight, right?” Did he actually want you to come or was he just asking to be sure that you weren’t? Dammit… He always made you feel so conflicted. Maybe if you just told him that you liked him, you could just get it over with, get the final answer and whatever comes next… Well, that’s up to fate. Maybe… Maybe you could tell him tonight… At the party. If he said no, you would just leave, run home and cry under your blanket and avoid him for the rest of your college years. It wouldn’t ruin his party, he had so many friends, they’d probably all get together and laugh at you anyway. You just needed to get it off your chest once and for all. You couldn’t keep hiding your feelings, you couldn’t keep going about your days like you were okay with just being friends… You needed to let him know.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’ll be there!” You texted back, and you already felt your heart speeding up at the thought of standing in front of him and telling him. The sweat was beading up on your forehead and your hands felt clammy. You didn’t even know what you were going to say, but you knew that trying to follow a script would only make you more nervous and you’d get tongue tied and end up rambling. The words would come effortlessly once you stood in front of him, the way they would fill your brain whenever you were around him, just waiting to be unleashed upon the man that you had loved for longer than you could remember. It would happen tonight… You’d tell him everything, you’d tell him how wonderful you thought he was, how funny he is, how he makes your day better just by smiling in your direction. You’d tell him that he’s the only person you’ve been able to ever think about or see yourself with, that you’ve always liked him, that you’ll always love him no matter what. He needed to know… And you needed your answer.

The outfit you had chosen for the night was dressier than what you’d wear to any of the other parties… If you had ever been invited to any other parties… And it was surely much dressier than what you usually wore. A floral dress that sat just at the middle of your thighs, the color accenting your skin tone and framing your figure in all the right areas. It was the last thing you put on after doing your hair and your makeup, because honestly, you knew that if you looked at yourself in the mirror you’d get even more nervous and decide not to go at all.

You wanted to catch his eye though, you wanted him to know that you could be just as pretty as the other girls that chased him around campus… You were worthy of his attention, and maybe even his love if he wanted to give it to you. It was hard not to feel anxious though, as much as you tried not to be. You were worried that you’d end up sweating off your makeup which you had spent much longer on than usual because you wanted to look perfect for him. It wasn’t too late to back out, just change your clothes and walk into the party in the regular clothes that you always wore when you went to his birthday parties… But this one was important… This one was the difference between spending the rest of your life pining over your best friend or finally being able to be his.

The music from the bar could be heard from outside the front doors, and you knew that it was most likely packed inside with all of his friends from baseball, and most likely all the girls on campus that were trying to hook up with him. You didn’t want to be surrounded by them, and you weren’t quite sure how you’d get him alone for even a second to tell him what you wanted to, but you were there and you were hellbent on telling him tonight, so you took a deep breath and walked into the bar, trying not to make eye contact with the people who seemed to stop and stare at you with wide eyes.

It wasn’t hard to find Seungmin, he was in the center of the room, a beer in one hand and his phone in his other hand as he chatted with some guys that you remember seeing on the field when you went and watched him play. He was preoccupied, and it was only the beginning of the party… You didn’t have to tell him right now… You could at least enjoy yourself for a little bit before potentially breaking your own heart.

“Hey! Glad you’re here!” The voice came from behind you, and when you turned around you saw Felix, a wide smile raising his freckled cheeks and creasing his eyes. “You look good by the way! Have you gotten a drink yet?” He had to shout above the music, and while you had heard his last question, you were too focused on the compliment he had given you right before. It sent a wave of heat rushing through you as you became more aware of his eyes that were looking you over. It didn’t seem disrespectful, but no one had ever looked at you that way, it had you just a little bit flustered.

“Uhm… No… No, I just got here…” You stammered, and he nodded, placing his hand on the small of your back to lead you through the crowd towards the bar, standing quite close to you as if you’d get lost in the mass of people if he wasn’t practically connected to your hip. “I’ll just have a water for now… Thank you…” You told the bartender, and sure, it might seem a little lame to order water at a bar, but you didn’t want to be drunk when talking to Seungmin, he might not take you seriously.

“Staying sober tonight, huh?” Felix joked, and you let out a small giggle as you shook your head. That wasn’t the plan entirely, but you didn’t want to start off your night with shots or anything either. Plus, you had walked for a good bit to get to the bar, and the last thing you wanted to do was rehydrate with alcohol. “Have you gotten to see Seungmin yet? I know it’s probably hard to get to him, he’s been being pulled in all different directions by a bunch of different people.”

You hummed softly, it would be harder to get to him than you thought, but you were adamant now. You’d have him to yourself, even if it was just long enough to tell him that you loved him. “It’s okay… I’m sure he’ll come find me when he has the chance to.” You said, just loud enough for Felix to hear you. “You wanna go grab a table? I walked all the way here and my legs are kind of tired…” You offered, and he quickly nodded, his hand once again finding the small of your back as he led you to one of the empty tables, a little further from all the noise.

“It’s so loud in here… I don’t know why he chose to have his party at a bar of all places…” Felix said, finally able to lower his voice just a little bit. You knew exactly why though, and you were sure that his new group of friends had some kind of say in it. Seungmin would probably be beyond drunk by the end of the night, and that had you more than slightly worried.

“Hey! You finally made it!” Seungmins voice boomed over the noise, and your head instinctively whipped up to the sound of it. He froze for a split second when he looked at you, but his adams apple bobbed as he cleared his throat, running a hand through his already sweat-dampened hair as he chuckled. “I’m gonna go dance, you both gonna come out?” He asked, and while you knew Seungmin was a wonderful dancer in private, you had never expected him to dance in public, especially around all of his friends.

“Sure…” You said, feeling a little shy. Maybe he wanted to dance with you? It’s not like you hadn’t been close to him before, he gave you piggyback rides often, but the music that was playing right now was surely not something that you’d dance to in any other way than sultry… Maybe even a little seductively.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you slowly got up out of your seat, trying not to lose Seungmin in the crowd as you followed behind him. The heat quickly dissipated when you saw his hands grab the waist of another girl, pulling her against him, their bodies swaying to the rhythm of the music. Nauseous was the only way to describe the way you were feeling. It was like you couldn’t breathe and the walls were closing in on you. You wanted to cry and your entire plan shattered right in front of you as you watched the man you were in love with move so sensually, so provocatively with another woman.

“Y/N…” Felixs voice came from behind you once again, clearly seeing the same thing you were, and you simply shook your head, turning around and rushing to the exit, hoping that some fresh air would at least help you breathe, and being away from everyone on campus who already thought you weren’t good enough to be with Seungmin allowed you to finally let out the tears that you had been holding in. “Wait! Y/N!” Felix called out, breathless from racing after you, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you from running off again. “It’s okay… It’s okay…” He repeated, but it’s like the sentiment had the opposite effect on you, and you let out a sob, turning around resting your forehead against Felixs shoulder as you continued to cry.

“How do I stop loving someone, Felix?” You whimpered, and you heard him sigh, the sound almost as sad as you were. “He’s too good for me… I shouldn’t have ever loved him… I’m so stupid, Felix. I was… I was gonna tell him tonight… I’m so fucking stupid.” One arm wrapped tightly around your waist as his other hand pet over your hair, quiet shushes attempting to console you. Did Seungmin even know that he had just broken your heart? Would he even care if he did know? You were just friends, it was foolish to fall in love with him, now you were fully aware of that. His friends would never accept you, and although he had never striked you as the type, maybe his popularity with his friends meant more to him than his almost lifelong friendship with you.

“It’s gonna be okay…” Felix once again said, his hands moving to cup your cheeks, a soft, sympathetic smile gracing his angelic features as he wiped away the tears that fell from your eyes. “We don’t have to stay here… I can walk you back to your place or… we can go grab something to eat? You look so beautiful, I wouldn’t want your outfit to go to waste.” He was trying, and you respected that, you appreciated it, but there was no way that you’d be able to keep your mind off of what you just witnessed long enough to pretend you were okay in a restaurant.

“I just want to go home…” You mumbled, and Felix nodded as he started walking beside you. He didn’t ask any other questions, he didn’t say anything else. He was a great friend, and whoever was lucky enough to be with him… You knew he’d make them feel loved and supported no matter what. He was a wonderful person, he truly was an angel. “Thank you, Felix… Really…”

///

“What the fuck!?” Seungmin was seething as he paced back and forth across the floor, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair. “Why would you take her home!? You fucked up my whole fucking plan!” Seungmin continued to shout at Felix who sat on the couch, just as pissed off as Seungmin but for an entirely different reason. “I thought we were buds!” His palms slammed down against the kitchen counter, his forehead pressed against the cabinets as he tried- and failed -to calm himself down.

“Oh fuck no! Don’t pull that shit with me!” Felix threw it right back at Seungmin, his own voice booming, the deepness of it sending vibrations through the air. “You tell me you love her and that you want to be with her, and then you pull some shit like that! This isn’t my fault! If you would have listened to me in the first fucking place and just told her how you felt, everything would be fine!” Felix was breathing heavily as he defended not only himself, but you as well, even if you weren’t there to hear it. “She was going to tell you that she loved you, but instead, she got to witness you attempting your stupid fucking plan! And guess what! It didn’t work! She’s devastated!”

Seungmins head lifted from the cabinets, his face peeking around the corner as he looked at Felix. “She loves me? She told you that?” He whispered, just needing to be sure that Felix was being 100% honest right now, because if he was… well… he had just made the biggest mistake ever and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to fix it. Felixs eyes rolled as he nodded his head, although the movement was quite snarky, but he had a reason to act that way. Felix had told him from the beginning that you liked him, but Seungmin didn’t want to listen, he wanted to find out in his own way… Everything was backfiring. “What do I do? I… She probably doesn’t want to see me… She’s probably so upset… Fuck!”

Felix shook his head, lounging back on the couch as he let out a humorless chuckle. “I ain’t helping you anymore. I already tried, and you went and did your own fucking thing. Figure it out yourself now.” The response definitely had Seungmin fuming again, but he didn’t have time to hash things out with Felix for another hour. He needed to check on you, which was easier said than done. You probably wouldn’t even open the door for him, and he wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, but he really wanted to apologize and tell you that he loves you, even if you might not feel the same way anymore.

It had been three hours since Felix had walked you home and made sure you got in your house alright. He had given you a hug and waited out in the hallway, making sure to watch that you not only closed the door, but that he also heard it lock before he walked away. In those three hours, the only things you had managed to do were change out of the uncomfortable outfit that you had chosen for the stupid party, clean your face, and then go right back to crying as you curled up on your couch.

Your phone vibrated on the arm of the sofa, and you were pretty sure that it would be Seungmin, and for the first time, you were hoping that it wasn’t. You didn’t have anything to say to him, you didn’t even know what you’d say to him. You were still devastated, and you didn’t want to talk to him at all. When you lifted your phone, it was a relief to see that it was Felix, but the relief was short-lived when you read what he had sent you.

“Seungmin is on his way over to your place. Look… He’s like, madly in love with you, it’s almost disgusting. You’re all he talks about, and he didn’t know that you liked him back, so he was trying to test it and make you jealous by dancing with another girl… Don’t worry, I called him out on his bullshit. BUT! I think it would be so funny to flip the tables and pull some shit on him too… I don’t know… But if you don’t want to see him or if you’re still upset, you can always text me, alright. I just wanted to let you know.”

Seungmin did that… To make you jealous… Because he was… In love with you? It made absolutely 0 sense in your mind, but the brain of a hormonal college man worked far differently than yours did. But to flip the tables on him, you would have never thought of doing something like that… not if Felix hadn’t put the idea in your head. You would have been so hung up on the fact that Seungmin did in fact love you, that you would have let everything else slide and gone running into his arms. You knew exactly what you were going to do though, and you were going to love every second of doing it. “Thanks Lix! I’ll let you know how it goes!” You quickly texted back before relaxing on the couch, mentally preparing for when Seungmin came to your door.

Just slightly faster than sprinting, that’s how fast Seungmin was running. Along with nighttime came a slightly chillier air that burned his lungs whenever he took a deep breath, but the lights illuminating the windows on your building were like a beacon calling to him, pushing him to keep going just a couple minutes more, and then he’d finally be there.

It was almost 2 in the morning now, and he wondered if you’d even still be awake. Had you cried yourself to sleep? He was the cause of it if you had, and his heart broke at the image in his mind, you curled up in your bed, the covers tucked under your chin as tears streamed down your face and soaked your pillow. He would never forgive himself for hurting you, especially when he could have gone the simpler route and just listened to Felix. He would have already had you if he had done that. He felt stupid, so damn stupid.

Bursting through the lobby door, he went straight to the elevator, his pointer finger slamming against the call button, already impatient after only 5 seconds of waiting. Why did you have to live on such a high floor? Just as he was about to turn around and take the stairs, the bell rang out and he rushed into the little box, his finger once again repeatedly pressing against the button to close the doors and then the number of your floor. The elevator was moving at turtle speed and it felt like this was all being done on purpose, just to make him wait longer to see you.

When the doors finally opened, he ran to yours, his hands coming down hard against the wood. Other tenants on the floor rushed out of their rooms, eyes wide, the urgent sound of his knocking made it seem like there was an emergency, and to him, there was. He felt like he was about to lose the love of his life, but to other people, he was just a madman, and honestly, a nuisance.

Your door flew open and he was met with the most beautiful, heart stopping scowl. He had wanted to kiss you many times before, but now he wanted to kiss you way more. “Christ, Seungmin. What do you want?” You hissed, your own head looking around your door frame and shooting an apologetic look to your neighbors before your eyes were back on him, your glare so cold it sent chills down his spine.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I did that, and I’m sorry I upset you. I thought… I don’t know, that it would make you jealous and maybe you’d argue with me and I’d just, I’d just kiss you and tell you that I loved you and we’d laugh about it later. I didn’t think it would hurt you, I didn’t think it would make you cry, and I’m really… really sorry.” The words were spewed out so fast, it only took him about 25 seconds to go from the first word to the last. It took him just as long to catch his breath after saying so much without even a breath in between.

“It’s whatever, Seungmin. I don’t even care… I mean… Your stupidity really opened my eyes and showed me that there’s someone out there who wouldn’t hurt me like that to try to show me they love me.” Someone else… There was someone else? He blinked a few times, and even though it was clicking, he didn’t want it to make sense, but he knew that the only other person that you had talked to tonight was Felix. But you couldn’t be talking about Felix… right? There’s no way in hell that he’d let something like that happen. “You can go now…”

“No, you’re not kicking me out again!” He screeched, realizing that he was still standing outside of your apartment and then pushing his way in, closing the door behind him. “Call me stupid, hate me, ignore me… Do whatever you have to… Just… Don’t go to someone else. Please. I love you, I’ve always loved you. Your cringy little nicknames that you give me and all your little quirks and habits. I love all of that. I love the way you always sit front row at my games and hold up the little signs that you made yourself and cheer for me… Even when I’m sitting on the bench. You’re beautiful, and I’ve never felt so fucking idiotic in my life… I don’t want you to be with anyone else… Who is it? I’ll kick his ass for taking you from me.”

Your head shook as you crossed your arms over your chest, your eyes closing as you let out a slow sigh. “Why does it matter who it is? He didn’t take me from you anyway, you were too busy trying to make me jealous and grinding up on some other girl to even notice that he was with me almost all night.” You retorted, and Seungmin saw red, his fists clenching at his sides. It was Felix. His nostrils flared as he turned on his heel without another word, ready to go right back to his place and beat the shit out of Felix… That is, until he heard you laughing. He paused, his hand on the doorknob, turning his head to look over his shoulder at you.

“What? What’s funny? You think this is funny?!” It was a mixture of anger, jealousy and sadness that had his voice rising in pitch and volume as he stared at you, but your laughter only got louder as your head fell back, and then you slowly walked over to him, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the door. “Seriously, Y/N. I know it’s Felix. I’m gonna… Fuck! This isn’t funny! He knows how I feel about you… I can’t believe he’d do some shit like this… I’m fucking-” Before he could finish his sentence, your lips were on his, and he was shocked to say the least.

When you pulled back, it was like his head was spinning, but in a good way. His cheeks were burning and he knew that you could probably see the blush forming under his skin. “Looks like you’re the one that gets easily jealous… It’s cute… You get so angry, like a bear or somethin’... Gonna start calling you boo boo bear now.” You were teasing him… But that meant it was all a joke… You didn’t like Felix… You still liked him.

He let out a little growl, playful as he gripped onto your hips and backed you up against the nearest wall, your eyes sparkling in the light that hung on the ceiling as you looked up at him, your cheeks pulling up in a cheeky smile. “You’re a smartass… You’re lucky I love you, ya know that? Now tell me you love me too, come on. I came all the way over here, was pranked viciously by the girl I love… I deserve to be told that I’m loved.” He pouted at you, a look that he reserved solely for you, but you gave him a quick peck before wiggling out of his hold and running to the other side of the room, your giggling contagious as he chased after you. “Just tell me you love me! Come on!”

“You have to catch me first!” You squealed, dodging him every time he got close to you, but he knew that you’d run out of breath soon, and he was just waiting for his chance to pounce. He continued to chase you though, loving the sound of your fits of laughter in between heavy breaths. Then your movement got slower, and you dropped down onto the couch, your hands held up in front of you. “Time out real quick!” You were breathless, strands of hair clinging to your sweat beaded forehead, but he didn’t follow your rules, and he pounced on you, pinning you down onto the couch, hovering just a few inches above you.

Silence hung in the air, the only sound was that of his racing heart in his own ears and your panting from beneath him. It had his mind wandering, but he needed to stay focused, he needed to hear you say it. “I won…” He could barely get his voice above a whisper, his throat dry from exerting so much energy. “Do I get my reward now?”

Your hands moved up to brush the hair out of his face, lifting yourself up just slightly to press a kiss to his lips, it had more meaning behind it though, it was deeper, it lasted longer, and he melted into it, his own lips moving against yours in perfect synch. Once your head fell back against the pillows, you looked almost drunk, your eyes slightly hazy, your pupils dilated as you looked up at him. “I love you, Seungmin… So much…” You murmured, and at those words he finally let himself collapse, his head resting against your chest, listening to the thrum of your heartbeat as your fingers pet through his hair. “Now you’re my boyfriend boo boo, right?”

“Mmhm… and you’re my girlfriend… g-... my girlfriend goo goo? No? Give me some time. Either way, you’re mine.”

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whispersoftheton · 9 months ago

Note

Could I request Anthony bridgerton x wife angst where they have an argument/fight because he is stressed so he takes his anger out on her so she ends up giving him the silent treatment while he basically begs for her forgiveness

Ahh I love this! I hope you like it :)

Anthony Bridgerton X Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 855

"Dear, remember we have tea with your mama tomorrow, and then I shall head to the modiste and return in time to oversee some floral arrangements for the ball this coming week." You adjusted your glove as you barged into Anthony's office. It had been a tedious morning in the Bridgerton household, seeing as most of Anthony's siblings were staying with the two of you for the next two weeks. "As hosts, we have a lot to see to in order for everything to run as smoothly as possible." Anthony scoffed as you finished speaking, making you glance at him with furrowed brows.

"Can I not have a moment alone without you berating every last ounce of my nerves." The sternness in Anthony's voice sent a shiver down your spine and had your stomach plunging with discomfort. His hands rubbed his temples as he stood from his chair.

"Is a mere greeting from your wife too much to bear? Or am I simply missing something?" you asked, suddenly treading cautiously. Anthony's ill mood put you at unease; it was rather unusual for him to return from a day's work like this.

"You care to call that a greeting? It is nothing but an aggravating list of endless tasks which have nothing to do with me." Anthony snapped.

"I am simply performing my duties as the Viscountess."

"Inadequately, I might add." His remark pierced through your heart with an unexpected strength. Tears brimmed your eyes as you attempted to blink them away, unwilling to show how he'd just taken your heart in his palm and crushed it under the weight of his words.

"Then I guess that settles it." You cleared your throat. "I apologize, my lord. It is clear now I am not performing as I should as Viscountess. I will see to that immediately." Your tone was as cold as the words felt on your tongue. Unsure of how long you could maintain your composure before him, you quickly bowed and exited the office, prepared to let the pain and tears bubbling inside escape the moment you were out of sight.

Days passed with a lingering sense of dread since your argument with Anthony. More so, days filled with silence amongst you, your gaze averted and avoiding your husband at every opportunity. Meanwhile, Anthony's apprehension grew with every one of his feeble attempts to win you back, hitting a dead end. Endless gifts were sent to your shared home, a flower awaited you along every afternoon tea with a heartfelt note, and even showering you with compliments day in and day out. But still, there was nothing. You had spoken less than a handful of words to him in the past week; even when he tried to take your hand or slip an arm around your waist as he typically did, you acted as if his touch had scorched you. Anthony couldn't take it anymore; it was driving him mad.

He hastily strode through the hall just outside the main room, and there you were—a picture of grace adorned with the most enchanting dress. His breath caught in his throat, as it did every time he saw you. Anthony quickened his steps to catch up before taking your hand and dragging you into a hallway closet nearby. Your startled gasp was quickly contained when you realized it was your husband in the dimly lit closet. You attempted to exit before he stopped you.

"Wait." His hand covered yours, slamming the closet door shut once again. Anthony pleaded with you until you surrendered enough to step back and listen. "I cannot bear the distance between us any longer. I apologize immensely for my behavior. It was unacceptable; I understand that now." He sighed. "The crushing weight of my duties as of late has been taking a toll, and although that is no excuse for the way I spoke to you nor the things I said, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." Your eyes locked on one another, and your expression softened just enough for Anthony to step closer and place a hand at your hip, pressing his forehead against yours. "You are my Viscountess—the woman I chose to stand by my side for the rest of our lives." Is that all you truly were to him? Your gaze cast downward and back to his in a small defeat as his words from that day sunk in all over again. Anthony lifted your chin to look at him once again. "Though that is not all you are. Not to me. You are the love of my life. My person. The love I hold in my heart for you knows no bounds. We are meant for each other in every way a person can be meant for another. I will do everything in my power to assure your forgiveness." Your smile widened as you reveled in this moment with him.

"I can think of a number of ways you can make it up to me." Anthony's hands wrapped tighter around you as he placed a kiss on your lips.

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brailsthesmolgurl · 9 months ago

Text

RETRIBUTION

SEQUEL TO DAMNNATION. kindly read the prequel to get a better idea on the story's direction. I know I promised an alternate ending, where angst is not involved, but I want to prolong this pain for you masochists :> Enjoy this long, hefty, and incredibly hurtful read. But, it is okay my lovelies, I shall have a good-comforting parallel-universe ending written for you guys this week. SOOO pls do keep up with my profile :)

The legend goes on, with the God of the Sea failing to protect his beloved. His fate was decided for him by his people, but now, he shall take fate upon his own hands and remake his own endings. But, does fate falter? Even to a God?

Warnings: Angst Angst Angst Angst, Spoiler to Rafayel's Lore and I put in some of my own zesty twists to the lore, Deaths and Bloods and some okay maybe not some descriptive gore.

Rafayel walked across the sandy paths of Lemuria, in his human form, with his beloved laid peacefully in his arms. Rafayel did not even bothered to shift back into his merman form as he wanted to dedicate the mundane's death to his people. Or rather, to show how much he loves her, by being a shadow of her, a human, walking amongst Lemuria. A promise he had always given her.

"You promise to show me Lemuria someday right?" He remembered the way her face would light up when he tells her stories of Lemuria. From how Lemurians had sourced for various kinds of sea stones from different parts of the ocean to build their homes to how Lemurians were created, to what do their daily routines consists of and many other kinds of stories that a man could ever dream of hearing from an actual Lemurian.

There was not a moment that y/n was ever bored of it. Instead, whenever he visits, it naturally became a conversation starter. Y'n would ask him of the most random things. "So do Lemurians possess any gardrobes?" Rafayel nearly spat his tea out, snapping his head towards her when she mentioned about toilets as they were having snacks in the middle of the night within her chambers. "Or perhaps they just do their business wherever they are allowed to---" Before she could even finished, Rafayel would have his hand on her lips, to silence her before she continue ruining his appetite for the rest of the night.

The swipe of his fingers on her pale lips reminded him of those days. She is no longer smiling now, eyes and mouth closed, her skin looked ghoulish under the water, skin reflecting light whenever the lightning above struck the surface of the sea. Rafayel's face is a sheet of calm demeanour, but the soul that lays beneath the hunk of this man is a roaring sea, just like how he summoned for the storm before he stepped foot into the vast ocean.

Fishes and various kinds of sea creatures that used to swim along the pathways are not seen nor found within miles of Rafayel's sight. None of them were brave enough to be within his presence as they knew the aura that Rafayel had emitted. It is no doubt that sea creatures are much smarter than Lemurians. Every step he took made the sea creatures scattered further away, burying deeper into their hideouts, scared for their lives.

Rafayel stood in front of his kingdom, eyes pinned against the marble white towers that he calls home. Cheers and laughters could be heard from the banquet hall, where the Lemurians were probably herded, awaiting for his return for a grand celebration towards the revival of Lemuria. But Rafayel was far from a celebratory mood. "We have arrived, my love." His voice monotonous, no hints of happiness nor giddiness, nor sadness, nor disappointment. Just numbness. A man with feelings bears empathy and sympathy, but, a man without feelings bears emptiness, null and void of all emotions.

He continued his course, holding onto y/n tighter in his arms. He had the initial thought of wanting her body to rest within his chambers before he commits bloodshed. But, having an audience might not be a bad idea. Instead, Rafayel wanted this. He knew that she could not be able to tell nor see, nor to be there to stop him, but he wanted her soul to watch him commit this, to execute damnation upon his kind. All he wanted, was to show her how much he loves her, to the point he is willing to do this, to be a mad man.

The heavy doors leading to the banquet hall slowly opened with a chant of a spell. Rafayel's eyes staring straight ahead, his once two-toned irises had now dissolved to be a dark maroon colour. His guess was right, all of the Lemurians were gathered within this hall, laughters and conversations filled the environment. But, almost abruptly, the laughters and conversations seized, and Rafayel could care less about the whispers that started to take place within the silence.

It did not took long before some of the Lemurians sensed something was off and they started swimming towards the heavy doors. Rafayel chanted something under his breath and the doors slammed right in front of their faces. The ones who tried to escape were shocked, but none of them made their move to question why the God of the Sea had a dead girl with a gaping orifice on her chest within his arms and why did he chose to present himself in a miniature form of a mere mortal. Practically the size of an ant compared to the average 2m Lemurians surrounding him.

"Your highness!" Arvia was initially cheerful, emerging from the crowd before he spotted the girl the God was holding onto. He stopped in his tracks, wanting to turn back before he felt a strong force pulling him towards Rafayel. Arvia faced Rafayel, eyes bulging when the invisible force coiled around his neck. "Your highness.... please!" The young merman coughed, the crowd watching in horror.

"You were the messenger weren't you?" Rafayel asked, eyes looking past the young merman, not even sparing him any last bits of attention.

"I was only...executing...what...was being....told..." The merman replied, his breath getting more restricted by every passing second. "I did...not...know...of...the ceremony. Please...I just want to save---"

"Your highness, no!" A mermaid appeared from the crowd, with blonde hair curling like tendrils on land, hazel eyes staring at the young merman before darting over to Rafayel's figure. She happened to be Arvia's mother. "He did what he have to...To save us all." Her sentence made Rafayel's right eye twitched slightly, fueling the God's wrath even more. "Then," Rafayel turned his head and angled it upwards to stare at her right into her eyes. His dark eyes could quite literally burn a hole through her soul as she finds herself talking back to a God. Not just any God at this moment, for he has taken his stance as a vengeful God. "Should it be justified? That I am only doing this to save my beloved?" Before the mother could even say anything, Rafayel only exhaled his breath and Arvia's head immediately got cut off clean by the invisible force. The head's eyes blinked a couple of times, floating upwards towards the surface, while its body sank onto the sea floor, twitching as it goes down. Blood seeping out into the ocean waters, creating symbols guided by the waves.

Lemurians within the banquet hall went into immediate panic, screaming and screeching, wanting to leave the banquet to save themselves. Rafayel looked up, watching as the Lemurians tried to flee. Like a bunch of fishes trapped within a fisherman's net, pushing against one another and fighting for whatever that is left for their puny lives. His voice was hushed, but clear enough to be heard within the hall. "Don't worry my people, you shall only feel the hurt that I had felt." And all of the screams halted.

...

Amund dragged himself across the sea floor, a trail of blood painted by his very own body fluids. The man was in agonizing pain, nearly to the point of passing out. Just a while ago, he was getting all cozy within his own chambers before he heard loud screams that travelled through the sea rifts. But it did not took long before it stopped so he took no mind to it, figuring it was just another norm for those celebratory parties. Not segregating the mischievious ones from the docile ones, that is just an invitation for a mishap to happen at a party.

He heard a swoosh coming from the side of his house and his door slammed open to reveal the God of the Sea, in his mundane form, covered in splatters of blood from head to toe. Amund's jaw dropped when the screams finally registered into his head. The screams may just be caused by this man standing right in front of him. The very girl Amund had tortured set securely within Rafayel's arms. Rafayel's unusual calm demeanour is not part and parcel of his personality, which further solidified Amund's questions to himself.

"Your high---" Amund was literally smashed through the walls of his house and the merman landed roughly onto the sand pile behind his house. Rafayel walked through the hole, eyes still hollow and face expressionless. "Pleas---" Another slam through another wall. And this repeated for a couple of times, until Amund was laying on the sandy pathway in the village, blood pooling out of his mouth. He tried to escape, pushing himself up and trying his best to get his tail to wag so he could generate enough momentum to give him a boost off of the ocean floor.

"It was a fairly easy instruction." Rafayel spoke, finally. Maroon eyes boring into Amund's skull. "And yet, you failed." Rafayel knelt down, showing Amund the girl he was holding onto the whole time. "You had deeply failed me, Amund. And you had failed Lemuria." Rafayel stood back up on his feet, licking his lips and looking back towards the towers that he had walked out from. "For what you had done to her, death would only be the easy way out for you." Rafayel's eyes turned a darker shade and Amund let out a blood curdled scream, begging for his highness' mercy.

It has been a while, with Amund crawling on the sea floor. Dirt and rubble trapped under the old man's nails. Some of his nails however, were ripped off due to him being tossed around---his failure to hold onto anything to slow down the impact, caused some of his nails to be ripped right off of his fingertips during the impact---with Rafayel's invisible force whenever he tried to plead for the God's mercy.

Rafayel had managed to pluck out the merman's scale, piece by piece. Lemurians scale are used to make lethal weapons not only on land, but also in the waters. Yet, they are the hardest to harvest as pulling off ONE scale would equate to a human ripping off their whole scalp in one go. So, one could only imagine the pain Amund is going through currently. Amund could barely crawl, eyes swollen from the sand that had entered his tear duct and hoarse voices turned into silenced croaks.

If Rafayel was not holding onto his beloved, he would have easily been the one to pluck out Amund's scales one by one. Rafayel's blinding rage had deluded his mind, as he watched the merman who is the reason behind his lover's death. "She was going to be my mate, my lifetime mate, for this upcoming season, do you know that?" Rafayel scoffed, tears stinging at the back of his eyes.

"But you had to just test my patience, and my capabilities as the God of the Sea. Hence, what you had experienced today, shall never equate to the pain you made me go through. For you had taken my fate, my people's fate upon your own hands." He gave Amund a good kick and the guy groaned in agony, facing down as he regurgitated blood. "What I did today, was nothing but a mere taste of what I am capable of. AS A GOD." His last sentence carried a strong surge of disgust, his bloodlust psyche temporarily separated his status between Amund, an ordinary merman and himself, which is made to be a God.

"I curse...curse her." He managed to choke out and Rafayel's eyes widened, immediately leaping forward to grab the merman's head to face him. The merman croaked out his very last laugh, taunting Rafayel's actions and the last sentence of his was spoken in Lemurian, a rendition of a chant to curse y/n to be reincarnated into a sea witch.

Rafayel's blink of an eye sparked his evol, and he stood there, watching the eternal flames that was casted on Amund burn the merman from what was left of him into a pile of dust, waiting to be consumed by the planktons that lives within the sea water's ecosystem. Tears unknowingly flowed down his cheek and trickled onto his lover's face. The show is over and so is his wish to see her to be a mundane again in her next life. Rafayel held her corpse closely and tightly to his body, soft sobs finally leaving his lips as he faltered to the sea floor.

...

Hundreds of years has passed. And hundreds of years, Rafayel had travelled the seas to search for her. To at least sense any signs of her presence. Ever since the massacre, Rafayel was tied down by his own guilt, for not only failing to protect his lover, but also being the sole reason for the extinction of Lemurians. How uncanny, a legend that tells the tale of a God seeking vengeance upon his own kind just because they had killed his one and only lover. That tale would surely be pure nonsensical or would and could possibly generate pure hatred from anyone who hears it.

Rafayel could care less, like how he heard the screams of his people in their very last moments, the sound of blood and tears splattered across the once white and pristine walls that they were confined within. The sound of Amund begging not to be killed---with his throat slowly giving up on him---the last curse that he uttered and the last sounds that had bubbled from him when he was lit up with Rafayel's evol.

A hint of humming caught his ears and the man stopped his movements, ears twitching in directions to catch onto the tune. A tune only he has ever whistled. With a gesture, dolphins came surrounding the God in circles, by command. "Find out the source for me, yeah?" Rafayel asked and the circling dolphins chirped in return before they dispersed into all directions.

Rafayel's heart skipped a beat, out of nervousness? He had no idea, he still has not gotten used to the idea of his heart being whole again. Because his heart has only been whole only when he was with her. He does not need a whole heart, he only needs her to fill in for the whole of his heart. And for that moment, he shall forever await.

One of the dolphins returned, whistling back to catch the God's attention. Rafayel looked up, and without hesitation, grab ahold onto the dolphin's fin and he was led towards the source of the humming. The dolphins brought him through the kelp grounds, where his people would usually come by to forage for food when they migrate to the northern side for warmer waters during the changing in seasons.

The dolphin led him to the side of the cliff, where it plunges down to the deepest part of the ocean. Creatures beneath those waters are indespicable, and no Lemurians had ever dived that deep. And that includes the God of Sea himself. The humming came again, this time further confirming that the source of the sound came from down below. Rafayel turned around to look for the dolphin, but the poor creature had left him all alone the moment it dropped him off here.

With a deep breath and a puff of his chest, the purple haired God swam deep into the dark waters below. All of his senses heightened to the max as he himself would not expect what he might encounter. Legends were told that there lives a sea serpent so huge that it could engulf the whole world if it awakes. And that was the only legend that still kept Rafayel on edge till now.

His fear dissipated almost instantly when he spotted a faint light in the far distance within the dark. You see, Lemurians although are half-fish and half-man, they do not possess infrared vision that allows them to see in the depths. Within the depths, Rafayel's flames do not work as well as this is the place where Gods are not exactly welcomed. He sped up his swimming when he noticed the light bounces further down into the dark. Pause. Then the light comes back up, but this time, at a very high speed.

Noticing a huge shadow, Rafayel turned and immediately started charging full speed towards the cliff again. But due to the darkness of the waters around him, the God found himself entrapped in the darkness, bumping and hitting himself against the cliffside. The bone-crushing, chomping sounds that came from behind him made him not-one-bit curious to see what was actually chasing him. Right when he was about to be gnawed by a creature, he heard a voice calling out in a language he had not heard of and he blacked out.

...

"I think he is waking up." A voice whispered next to Rafayel. "His eyes are fluttering."

"Is it? Oh yeah, he does look like he is awakening." Another voice intruded, deeper, but not enough to be known as a man's voice.

Rafayel slowly opened his eyes, before he was met with two snailfishes. One with a red while another is tinted with a blue hue. His eyes darted in between the two fishes as he was trying to comprehend if they were the ones talking earlier.

"Good morning." The red one spoke and Rafayel gasped, moving away from the fish. His pupils blown out as he was shocked. He has seen fishes all of his life, but he had never encountered talking fishes. EVER. But making spells to make fishes talk is definitely a skill only a sea witch possesses. This gave Rafayel a thought, maybe she felt lonely down here so she made herself some friends.

"You scared him Red." The blue one spoke this time, and it swam closer towards Rafayel, using its spiny fins to mimic how a mundane would usually talk. Gestures, as what was taught to the snailfishes, is a common courtesy of good body language to humans. But given the snailfishes had never been in contact with any humans, they took the closest resemblance to what their highness looked like. Rafayel looked just like a human to them.

With parted hair and two eyes, a nose and a lip. He is obviously a human to their knowledge. "We are not going to hurt you." The blue fish gestured it's small fins in circles, speaking slowly for each word, afraid that the man before it would not understand them. "Our master ask us to care for you as she went out to gather some food."

"Who is your master?" Rafayel asked as he sat up, kindly hoping that it was the girl he had awaited for many years. "Where is she?" His excitement made him winced, his head still hurts, a side effect of a sea witch's spell.

The feel of the water temperature shifting made the two snailfishes swam off to one of the tunnels. Rafayel took this time to observe his surroundings. Contrast to the dark waters he was in just now, he is currently in a cave like structure, with huge seaweeds and some pebbles laid out beneath him and a sea lantern hung up at every corner of the cave to provide some decent lighting. For a moment, he did not believe that he is in a sea witch's abode.

The walls had paints on them, some forming artworks of the seas above, and some were writings written in what Rafayel assumed to be sea witch's language. Rafayel stopped at one of the drawings, it was a rough sketch of Lemuria. Seeing the sketch, his breath hitched in his throat. The past memories of his massacre surfacing again but he forced it down. Not willing to show weakness in such a foreign territory. Below the sketch, there were symbols that Rafayel could not read. But he decided not to further crack his head.

The fishes returned and Rafayel's heart dropped to the bottom of his tail when he was met with her. The girl who he had always been waiting, the girl he had committed massacre for, the girl that had made him suffer with loneliness for the past hundred years. Y/n is now in front of him, but other than human legs, it was swapped with a black and singular long tail, resembling one a Moray eel has. Her once brunette curls took on a much darker shade, the same as the waters below here. The curse happened after all, for she had became the sea witch of the depths.

"You are awake." Y/n spoke and oh how he missed her voice. The voice that produces the best laughters and asked the most silly questions. Yet, with this version of her, her voice held none of those characteristics he remembered. It was deadpanned, the lack of emotions nearly made Rafayel winced. With his lack of a response, the sea witch looked towards both of her friends. "Does he happen to be a mute?"

"He spoke to us just now, but more like engaged us in a question or two." The blue snailfish chirped, swimming back to the side of Rafayel. The same fin that used to make gestures came to give a pat onto Rafayel's cheek and the merman turned to look at the fish in question. Seeing Rafayel's reaction, the fish hurriedly swam back to its master. "He is a human as you described right? Right, master?"

"Not quite, Blue." Ironic, Rafayel thought. It is very ironic of her to name things exactly based on the way they looked. It has always been a habit of hers. She placed the seashells she had harvested neatly onto the floor and she swam over to have a closer look at Rafayel. "I think, his origins are of a mermaid." Her eyes are now a different shade of colour, black irises match the shade of her pupils. Another staple for a sea witch. "I apologise for the black out you had to experience earlier on. I had to cease the Angler Fish from rising towards the surface as I did not want it to disturb the ecosystem as of above."

"Do you know of my name?" Rafayel asked, a glimmer of hope shined in his eyes as he really wished for her to remember at least a slither of memory of him. For he had been her one and only lover in her past life. But with the way she raised an eyebrow and tilted her head, his hope got extinguished like a fire that could not be ignited.

"What do you seek for, Lemurian?" Y/n swam back towards the pile of sea shells she had collected and she grabbed one of the bottles from above her shelf. Examining the shells one by one before placing them into the bottle, only the ones that has spots on them would be chosen while the other would be tossed aside and the two snailfishes seem to be having a feast with the leftovers.

The turn of her head got her to look him right into his eyes. The warm glow emitting from the sea lantern casting a soft glow on her face. Just like the time when he held her in his arms, on top of the rock. He tore his eyes away from her, his cheeks burning from how affected he was from her gaze. But he answered her. "I came here for a potion. A potion to cure me from my wandering heart." ...

It took y/n 100 days, a cycle between 50 days and 50 nights to produce the potion that Rafayel had requested for. Shortly after the interaction, Rafayel had returned back to the shallow seas, as he could not bear to watch the love of his life not knowing him for who he is and who he was to her.

His last words to her before he departed to the shallows was, "Once the potion has been completed, I shall meet you at the sea stacks by dawn. The one far north." He said, index finger pointing towards the said direction. His eyes does not meet hers before he left. That was how heartbroken he was. His heart wearing him down day by day as he waited for the potion to be crafted.

During the 100 days of wait, he kept going back and forth between the waters and land to keep himself occupied. But the land served him better as the mourning of the princess had ended long ago. When the princess went missing, the King sent out every single one of his troops to search for the lost princess.

Rafayel purposely placed her back onto the sea stacks so she could be found easily. Knowing the God, he would have kept her by his side even if she were to be nothing but a bag of bones, but he knew, her people would want to know of her whereabouts. Even if it would only bring them to her corpse. He could not give himself anymore liberty to take her away from her people, like how he had singlehandedly perished the people of his kingdom. He did not turned his head back at all once he had left her there, swimming away in full speed so that he would not be discovered and caught, and to save himself from crying anymore.

The beloved princess' death was mourned by all. Every citizen within the Kingdom's grounds were in tears, regardless if its a man or a woman, an adult or a child. That was how loved she was. Her people mourned for her for nearly five decades, and that was how long Rafayel refused to surface and to walk on land. Every time he closed in to the shores of her kingdom, the sounds of the cries of her people would strike his ears. He became so used to it that he would visit the same place every day, by dusk, just to silently cry and mourn with the people of her kingdom.

He would not even go anywhere near his kingdom either. For it was filled with the bones of his people. The people that he used to cherish, that he would always go back to. But now, all he returns to, is a dead and eerie silence. The bloody stains of his people had now hardened, taken over by sea crustaceans as Lemurian blood offers a lot of benefits to the sea creatures. If any Lemurians lived past that day, Rafayal would definitely earn the title of 'The God Who Went Deranged'.

The day has finally came, where they shall rejoice by the sea stacks. Rafayel was already waiting there since dusk, body floating above the waters, facing up towards the bright skies painted in pastel yellows and reds. Blobs of clouds that seemed so edible Rafayel wished he could fly instead of swim. A bunch of bubbles surfaced next to him and he slightly turned his head, watching as she emerged from the waters, holding two vials in her hand. Her face expressionless and cold as the first time he had met her in this life.

"Here." She handed him one of the vials and he took it, repositioning himself from having to float, to facing her directly. "Are you sure this is what you desire?" Her question caught his attention, his mixture of lilac-lapis orbs stared into her obsidian ones. "Because your memories will be perished forever, do you know that?"

Rafayel looked at the vial, the contents of the fluid is watery, and takes on a sheen of coral-like pink. "My mind is set." His eyes caught her again. "This is what I had desired when I met you that day." His words although does not hold any meaning to the sea witch, but it held meanings that one could never fathom, within the God of Sea's memories.

"This is usually done between two, one to forget while the other to contain the forgotten memories." She explained, holding up the vial to her eye level as she continued. "And since you do not have anyone you want to consume this with, I shall be the one to contain your forgotten memories."

As expected, Rafayel knew she was going to say this. He had never once mentioned anything about the Lemurians being extinct. Neither did she asked. Always putting people ahead of herself, her nature still seeped through from her past life that it has easily become one of her core personalities even till now. Rafayel silently sighed in his own mind when he looked at this woman in front of him. The lover that he had sworn his life to, became the lover that was seemingly a stranger to him.

"We shall consume this together, and with a chant of a spell, hence the void of the memory shall take upon its place." Rafayel pulled the cap open, mirroring her actions and they drank the mixture together. Rafayel winced at how bitter the content tasted but y/n seemed unaffected, as sea witches are not equipped with a sense of taste as most of their potions tasted wicked as their personalities had always been portrayed to be. "Well enough to start?"

"Hu-Ayr-Tey Ta-Fa-Fu-Lei." Rafayel chanted and he watched as y/n's eyes widened. Finally, a reaction from her. Not in the way he had hoped for a reaction of course. You see, Rafayel, being God of the Sea, although had never travelled through the deep waters and had never knew of the Sea Witches' language, but the spells equipped by the sea witches were born out of a God's nature. Should there be benevolence, there shall be malevolence. Just like how Rafayel's massacre is a proof of a God's malevolent nature taking place physically, a sea witch's spells are born out of a God's mentally twisted nature.

"What have you done?!" She held onto her neck, feeling herself struggling to breathe as her neck is closing up on her. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" She raised her voice, looking at him with anger that starts to paint her face a shade of red. "How do you know of this spell?!" She was in disbelief, eyes shooting daggers into the merman in front of her. Rafayel showed no amusement though, his eyes although were entirely focused on her, his heart crushed.

Fate in general, creates thousands and millions of possibilities towards one's ending. For a God, fate should easily be nothing but a just another miniscule issue within their palms. But for Rafayel, the moment he fell for a mundane, was the moment he signed a blackmail for himself. He has to gamble with fate now, just like with any other mere mortal. The only advantage he got is that he could look into the near future to help him better plan out his upcoming course of actions.

This happening now, marks one of his course of actions. The fate he had chosen was to kill y/n with his own hands, so she could be reincarnated to be a human in her next life. Then, he could take place as a man, on the land, seeking for her love and attention, just like how a mere mortal would. Yes. Rafayel, the God of the Sea, would risk his status of being a God just to be a human, just to be with her. "This is the only way." He spoke to her, as he watched her slowly lose her memories to swim, her tail, now a pair of legs, flailing clumsily in an effort to save herself.

The spell that he had uttered, does not only make her forget her own identity, but it makes her forget everything, wiping everything off of her memory and giving her a clean slate. A reincarnated soul would always remember bits of their past lives, that is how deja-vu and realistic dreams come about. But this spell would wipe her memory of her past life as well. As bad as it sounds, Rafayel sees this as the only viable way for him to live his next life, having to protect her. All the other courses of action, would only lead to more bloodshed and he grew tired of it.

The tears came flowing again, watching his beloved struggle to breathe as she started to choke onto the seawater that is rapidly entering her lungs. Rafayel could only watch, he could not interfere as it would ruin the course of her next life. Heart wrenching, gut punching, every other word of torturous feeling would describe him perfectly at this moment.

Y/n reached out her hand to him, desperately looking at him and clawing for him, seeking for his help to drag her out and onto solid land. But his refusal seemingly made her accepted her fate. Her pupils then slowly stopped moving, her body slowly stopped thrashing and twitching as she continued descended deeper into the waters. A scene that reminded him deeply of Arvia during his last moments.

Once the bubbles had stopped surfacing out of her agape lips, Rafayel swam down as fast as he could, and he held her cold body in his arms again, closely studying her very last moments. Her eyes were opened, in a state of shock and acceptance, lips blue like the shade of his lapis-coloured eyes, tail had now taken form into two legs, her body stiff and hollow like how she was when he first found her in the past 100 years. The curse was finally broken, but it also broke Rafayel. With shaky breaths, he uttered. "In your next life, I promise you. I promise. You shall only ever hear of my name as to be Rafayel. I shall no longer...be the God of the Sea."

Parallel Universe Ending is Out: Salvation

I love doubling the damage sometimes, this one-shot had became somewhat of a small series. I enjoyed using a bit of my gore movie visual experiences within this piece of writing. Thank you for the ones who wished for a sequel. I hope this makes you bawl your eyes out.

But do not worry, I am already starting on a not-so-angsty ending that takes place in a parallel universe. I don't think this series would continue on as I think it is best to leave it to you lovelies' vast imagination.

As usual, any requests you want me to write? I can write it for ya :)

Have a good day and pls cry for me lovelies :)

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #lnds #rafayel sfw #rafayel x reader #rafayel angst #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace

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mykoreanlove · 9 months ago

Text

on being real

“I don’t want to date you anymore, Jackson.”

The silver fork he was holding in his left hand fell onto the marble floor, crashing the silence caused by your announcement. Jackson was visibly irritated, big frowns on his face.

“You… what? Why?”

For days you had been practicing this moment, imagining how you would explain your reasons and set him free. And even though you went over this moment hundreds of times, you were not prepared for the gravel pit of anxiety in your stomach. You didn’t do this because you didn’t want him, no. Your feelings were as strong as ever, but Jackson never opened up, he never let you take a look behind his porcelain façade. You decided to no longer waste your time with someone that only portrayed his good sides.

“I don’t feel like knowing you, Jackson. You only show me your good sides, you never share your problems with me. I just…”, you stumbled to find the right words.

“Say it, y/n”, he urged you with a serious tone.

“I feel like I’m dating a fake.”

Ouch, the pit grew bigger.

Jackson hid his face behind his hands, shielding himself from you. You didn’t think it would affect him that much, but his silent sobs gave him away.

“I’m sorry, Jackson.”

It didn’t take long for him to change into his real self, which you finally saw for the first time after months of dating. His eyes, always sparkly but never serene, turned dead, drained from life and love. You silently gasped, surprised to see the abyss behind the veil.

Jackson broke out in laughter as he wiped away his tears.

“Dating a fake, huh?”

Tears started to form in your eyes, seeing him like that broke your heart.

“What do you want to know, y/n? How broken I really am? You think you’re going to love that?”, he spat sarcastically.

You couldn’t answer, you didn’t dare to. Jackson took another sip of his drink, grimacing in pain.

“Shall we talk about my crippling depression, then? You want to know what that’s like? To lie awake every night wondering if this is the life I want, the one that I deserve? Shall we talk about the accompanying anxiety which is clouding my mind 24/7? Am I doing enough? Am I true to myself? Is this really who I am? Shall we talk about my sweaty hands and rapid heartbeat? Me wondering if I’m about to drop dead any minute? Is that it?”

He paused and observed you, not understanding the reason behind your tears.

“Or shall we talk about my health problems? Did you notice how badly I’m griding my teeth? Should I tell you that my jaw is tense as fuck and my teeth are overly sensitive? That drinking and eating anything but warm liquor is making me wince in pain? You think I’m this skinny because I’m on a diet? No, y/n, far from it. Should I tell you how frustrated I am because I have tried literally anything, and no one can help me? You wanna know what that’s like? To be helpless in your own body? To be betrayed by your own fucking body?”

Your eyes wandered to the glass in his hands, finally understanding why he was always drinking so much. Jackson started pacing through the room while bearing his darkest secrets.

“Or shall we talk about the people I’m seeing for help? Because I’ve seen them all, y/n. I searched through whole fucking Asia, and everybody is saying the same shit. It’s all in your head, Jackson. Do you know how fucked up that is? Neither antidepressants nor the shit for my teeth is helping me and you wanna know why? Because apparently, it’s in my head. My body is hurting because my soul is hurting. Isn’t that hilarious?”

Jackson spilled some of his liquor, trying to make a point.

“Or let’s not forget about my love life, y/n. You wanna know what that’s like? You wanna know how much energy it took to portray myself as normal? I wanted you to think of me as strong and healthy and full of life but now you’re breaking up with me because that was, what, fake? I did all of this so you would never realize how broken, fragile, and weak I am. But I guess that wasn’t the right way to go about it either.”

Another layer of sadness washed over his face, tinting his brown eyes in even deeper despair. Jackson took a seat on the couch and hid behind his hands again, wondering why he told you all of this if you were already over him.

He flinched in surprise as he felt your arms around him, hugging him tightly. For once he just gave in and hugged you back, crying silently in your embrace.

“Thank you for telling me, Jacky”, you whispered sweetly into his ear. “This is exactly what I wanted.”

He looked at you surprised, so you explained yourself.

“I fell in love with you because you were a real one. Standing in your truth and being true to who you are. That’s how I have always perceived you, anyways. But then when we started dating, and I never got to know that side of yours. You were too perfect, in a way. And I don’t want perfect. I want real, Jacky.”

His thumb brushed along your cheek, tracing down to your jaw.

“How could you possibly want that?”, his hoarse voice croaked.

You chuckled in response.

“I’m not perfect, Jackson. And I don’t want to be. Don’t you think I get depressed from time to time? We can cry together then. And yes, the thing with your teeth sucks. But I will love you even if you get new ones. And besides that, my teeth don’t hurt but my head does. Often, I get insufferable migraines and have to lie in a pitch-black room, I flinch at light like Dracula himself. Do you think I like that? No, but we all have something. You make it sound like you have to be perfect to be loved. But you don’t.”

The newfound spark in his eyes was noticeable, if only for a quick moment.

“I agree with the people you’ve been seeing, though. Your soul is hurting, Jackson. And that’s okay.”

You grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly, looking at him hopeful.

“You don’t have to heal on your own though. I’d like to help… if you let me?”

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mcflymemes · 7 months ago

Text

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005) PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

you must know... surely, you must know it was all for you.

you are too generous to trifle with me.

if your feelings are still what they were last april, tell me so at once.

my affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever.

you have bewitched me, body and soul, and i love... i love you.

i never wish to be parted from you from this day on.

i have struggled in vein and i can bear it no longer.

these past months have been a torment.

i came to [location name] with the single object of seeing you. i had to see you.

are you too proud, [name]? and would you consider pride a fault or a virtue?

we're doing our best to find a fault in you.

i have fought against my better judgement, my family's expectations, the inferiority of your birth by rank and circumstance.

you really do love him, don't you?

please, do be seated.

this is a charming house.

all these things i am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony.

how are you this evening, my dear?

may i have the next dance, [name]?

my brother gave it to me. he shouldn't have.

i wish you would not call me "my dear."

what endearments am i allowed?

what should i call you when i am cross?

i cannot believe that anyone can deserve you... but it appears i am overruled.

are you out of your senses? i thought you hated the man.

have you no objection other than your belief in my indifference?

i do like him. i love him.

only the deepest love will persuade me into matrimony, which is why i will end up an old maid.

i love you. most ardently.

please do me the honor of accepting my hand.

i appreciate the struggle you have been through, and i am very sorry to have caused you pain.

believe me, it was unconsciously done.

are you... laughing at me?

i wonder who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love?

i thought that poetry was the food of love.

what do you recommend to encourage affection?

i'm very fond of walking.

i do not have the talent of conversing easily with people i have never met before.

perhaps you should take your aunt's advice and practice?

so this is your opinion of me. thank you for explaining it so fully.

those are the words of a gentleman.

from the first moment i met you, your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others made me realize that you were the last man in the world i could ever be prevailed upon to marry.

forgive me for taking up so much of your time.

maybe it's that i find it hard to forgive the follies and vices of others, or their offenses against me.

my good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.

i cannot tease you about that. what a shame, for i dearly love to laugh.

i will not and i certainly never shall.

you have insulted me in every possible way, and can now have nothing further to say.

i must ask you to leave immediately.

i have never been thus treated in my entire life.

i can admire you much better from here.

do you talk, as a rule, while dancing?

i prefer to be unsociable and taciturn.

i dare say you will find him amiable.

it would be most inconvenient since i have sworn to loathe him for all eternity.

no one would suspect your manners to be rehearsed.

i've come to tell you the news.

not all of us can afford to be romantic.

i've been so blind.

they are far too easy to judge.

i was wrong. i was entirely wrong about him.

i am well aquainted with you, [name], to know that i cannot alarm you, even should i wish it.

your skills in the art of matchmaking are positively occult.

i've never seen so many pretty girls in my life!

i do not deny it.

has the pig escaped again?

we are all fools in love.

#rp meme #mcflymemes #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #i'm not personally into regency stuff but i know a lot of y'all are so have fun!!!!!!

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chocochipsushi · 1 year ago

Text

𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

SFW

🌸Word count: 539 words

🌸AU: Toji x clumsy bimbo reader

Part 2 >>

“Do you think plants feel pain when we trim them?”

There is silence, so you look up from grooming your green babies to look at Toji, who is sitting on the flower-shaped chair, his elbow on the leaf-like armrest, his fist holding up his cheek. He is watching you unblinkingly, almost mesmerised.

You wave your pink scissors in the air between the both of you. “Hello? Toji~ Toji Fushiguro~”

He blinks several times as if waking himself up from his stupor. “Hmm?”

“I asked if you think plants feel pain when I trim them,” you repeat, placing the hand with the scissors on your hip.

He rubs his palm over his face. “I’m not sure, baby. Maybe.”

You stare at him for a second before grinning. “Hey! ‘Baby’ and ‘maybe’ rhyme!” Toji can only stare at you in amusement. You lift the scissors in the air and flick it to the left. You don’t know that Toji’s heart stops with every swish of your wrist. “Maybe, baby,” you say. Then you flick the weapon to the right. Toji’s heart halts again. God, if you accidentally hurt yourself with that… “Baby, maybe.” You giggle and look at Toji. “Say ‘Maybe, baby’.”

He indulges you, hoping to stop you from waving the dangerous thing in the air. “Maybe, baby.”

Seeing the smile growing on your face, his features soften just a little, until he sees you running towards him with the pair of scissors in your hand.

“STOP!”

You do exactly just that, shocked by his yell. Toji’s body is tense and his heart is racing. But he notices the kicked puppy look on your face. So he lets out the breath he didn't know he had been holding and tries to calm himself down. He points to the tool in your hand.

“Let’s always put sharp things down before we do any running, shall we?” he says slowly and gently, like he is talking to a toddler.

You glance at the pair of pink scissors in your hand and realise that he is right. He has warned you many times about running with dangerous items in your grasp — even more about just running in general, actually. You are such a klutz that the only way to protect you from yourself is to treat you like a child under surveillance.

So you stick the pointed end of the scissors into the soil of the closest plant and turn back to Toji with hopeful eyes. He rolls his eyes and sighs, and you know that he is giving you permission to run now. So you rush over to your boyfriend, throwing yourself onto his lap, your arms around his neck. He immediately wraps his arms around you, cushioning any injury you might have attained from the sheer impact of you jumping on him.

“I don’t get why people think you’re so scary, Toji,” you muse as you brush his fringe from his eye. “You’re so cute and so sweet to me. You’re like a big, cuddly bear!” you squeal as you give him a big, tight hug.

Toji squeezes your waist in response as he murmurs in your hair, “Yeah, well, people would be more tolerable if they were more like you.”

#toji #toji headcanon #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x oc #toji fushiguro #toji jjk #jjk #jjk headcanon #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x oc #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fic #toji fic #toji fushiguro fic #toji fluff

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debonairprincesposts · 9 months ago

Note

If you have requests open I'd love to request a Lucifer x reader angst. When he finds out they're dating Charlie, he gets too protective and ends up scaring them away. After seeing how upset she gets when the reader breaks up with her because of him, he has to try and patch things up.

Thank you anon for this wonderful request! I thrive on angst. Ask and you shall receive! Mostly.

Anyway! Here is your Lucifer x reader angst.

Hope it’s to your liking-

Enjoy (。•̀ᴗ-)✧

It’s finally happening. Charlie was finally going to introduce her partner to her dad. She just hopes that he doesn’t hate (Name) as soon as he sees them.

“Calm down, Char! I’m sure it’ll go great- I mean, how bad could it be, right?” You tried to comfort Charlie. Not like you were any better. You were just as nervous, maybe even more. You were going to meet the king of hell for heaven’s sake!

“No- you’re right! There’s no way he won’t like you! You’re like- the nicest person I know! He’s bound to take a liking to you-,” Charlie says, pacing around the hotel lobby. Nobody was present at the moment, she told everyone that she was gonna have an important meeting with her dad and had Vaggie request that nobody be present in the lobby at that time.

Knock knock

He’s here! Already?! You just hope that everything goes well and he ends up liking you. Charlie would be pretty upset if he didn’t. You would too-

“Charlie! So good to see you again!”

Lucifer said as he basically crushed her in a bear hug with a grin.

“G-Good to see you too, dad!” Charlie wheezes out as she hugs him back.

He lets go as he walks into the lobby, “So what is this important thing you wanted to show me, Char Char?”

“Uhm- dad, I just wanted you to meet someone really important to me, so- Uhm,” She drags you over by the shoulders, “meet (Name)! My lover!” Says Charlie with a nervous smile.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir!” You extend your hand for a shake, Lucifer grabs your hand with narrowed eyes and a strained grin as his grip on your hand tightens to a painful degree. “Likewise.”

Awkward silence…

“Alright!” Says Charlie with a clap to clear the awkwardness, “Why don’t you two get to know each other while I go get us some drinks.”

You look at Charlie with a pleading look to not leave you alone with her dad, because you know for a fact you would’ve been dead ten times over from the way he’s glaring at you if looks could kill.

Charlie gives you an apologetic smile as she quickily makes her way to the bar in the lobby.

“So,” He suddenly says, startling you, you turn to look at him. The way he’s looking at you tells you he’s displeased that you’re in a relationship with Charlie , “What are your intentions with my daughter?” Distrust clear in his voice.

Sweat drips down your temple. You take a deep breath, “I love her, sir. I want to try my best to make her happy like she does with me.” You say with a shaky smile.

His eyes narrow even further than before, “I’m not buying it. You’re a sinner! The only reason you’d be down here is if you did some really terrible things. Why would a terrible person like you want to be with Charlie. What is your plan exactly? Are you trying to exploit her kindness? Steal her money? Her life?”

He’s basically glaring now.

Your eyes widen as you immediately go to deny all the things he said, “What? N-No! I would never- I love Charlie! I wouldn’t ever do anything like that!”

“Bullshit!” Venom drips from his voice, he’s actually really starting to scare you now. Charlie, where are you?? “I want you as far away from my daughter as possible. Do you understand?”

“But sir-,”

“I said- Do you understand?” His eyes flash red as his horns slightly peak from under his skin.

“O-okay-,” you say dejectedly as you try to keep your tears at bay.

“Wonderful!” He goes back to normal as if he didn’t just basically threaten you, grin wide and everything, “I’m sure you’ll be gone by tomorrow morning, right?” He says with a threatening grin. “And Charlie better not hear a thing about this, clear?”

“Crystal.” You say as you look away to hide your tears.

After Charlie comes back with the drinks, you excuse yourself to the restroom to wash your face.

Charlie shoots you a worried glance. You flash her a small smile as you pass her.

“You didn’t say anything mean, did you dad?” Charlie shoots her dad a suspicious look.

“Pfft- What? No- I would never!” He lied as he took a sip of his drink, “They’re just the sweetest person ever! Good find Charlie!”

Her eyes sparkle as she heard what he said, “Right? They’re so nice to me too. They make me breakfast in bed practically everyday! Oh- and help with managing the hotel when I’m not here too! And their massages are the best! I love them so much!” Charlie continues going off on a tangent about all the nice things you’ve done and such.

As Lucifer listens to her talk, he starts to feel a bit guilty about how he treated you earlier but erases that thought from his head. He needs to keep his little apple pie safe. No matter the cost.

(Name) never returned to the lobby after that. Lucifer decided to excuse himself deciding that it’s gotten late and that he needs to attend to his “kingly” duties tomorrow. Charlie goes to the bedroom to find (Name) already asleep. So she goes to bed too with a smile on her face. In her mind, her dad and her partner liked each other. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

The next morning, Lucifer gets a call from Charlie. She’s sobbing, barely getting her breaths out as she tells him that you broke up with her.

“Why would they break up with me!” She sobs, “Was it because of me? Because I did something?-,”

“No Charlie! Definitely not your fault. Maybe they left for a good reason?” He says unsure of himself.

Charlie pauses on her end, “Did you do something, dad?”

“O-Of course not, sweetie!-,”

“Dad, please!”

“…” Lucifer is at a loss. He didn’t know Charlie would be this devastated. “I’ll go find them and talk to them for you, okay apple pie?” He settles.

Charlie sniffles, “Really?”

“Really! They’ll be back with you in no time! Not a problem at all! So just- stop crying, okay? Please?” If he needs to go find that sinner his daughter likes then so be it.

“Okay,” Charlie says, “ But please- don’t say mean things to them okay?”

“Of course, sweetie,”

They both hang up.

Lucifer messed up bad. He didn’t mean to make Charlie that upset. He needs to find that sinner, and convince them to go back to Charlie. He just hopes he didn’t scare them too much the last time they both talked. He needs to fix this.

You moved back to the little apartment you had. It wasn’t much, but at least it was a roof over your head. As you head out to try find a new job, Lucifer pops outta nowhere making you take several steps back.

“Hey there! Mind having a talk with lil old me?” He says with an expecting grin.

You were scared for your life. You already did as he asked so why was he here?!

You shakily smile as you answer him, “Of course, sir.”

His grin widens as he opens a portal to a cafe of sorts. He leads you inside to a private booth. He motions at the seat infront of him, gesturing you to take a seat. He calls the waiter over, orders you both drinks then you settle in silence as the waiter leaves.

He clears his throat, startling the crap out of you. “So,” he says awkwardly, “How are you today?” He asks as he tries to start small talk.

“Fine,” You reply.

He winces at your dry response.

“So uhh- Charlie sounded pretty upset this morning when she called me,” He says as he fiddles with his fingers.

You were too scared to say anything really. You already knew Charlie was going to be upset, but it’s not like you had much choice in the matter.

He was gauging your reaction to his words. You seem to be just as upset as Charlie sounded on the phone with him earlier. You look like you are close to tears.

He sighed as he finally got his thoughts together, “I’m sorry.” He says looking at his lap, seeming completely ashamed of his actions.

Your head snapped up fast enough to give you whiplash from hearing him apologize. Apologize? He’s apologizing? To you?? The King of Hell is apologizing to a lowly sinner like you?!

“I shouldn’t have done what I had. I should’ve gotten to know you better before judging you immediately.” He finally looks up from his lap to look at you to find you sat then completely frozen with a shocked look on your face.

“You love her, don’t you?” He asks you with a hopeful expression. He smiles in relief when you nod with a soft ‘yes’. His smile softens when he sees how tense you are, you look like you’re ready to bolt at a moments notice. He grimaces on the inside. He shouldn’t have been that harsh. He judged you too early. “How about we try to get to know each other for a bit. You are going to be my child in law sooner or later, aren’t you?” He takes a sip of his drink with a grin.

Your eyes glisten with tears of relief. Lucifer panics a bit at the sight of your tears before you explain that it’s just tears of happiness. He calms down at your explanation. The fact that you’re crying tears of joy over knowing that you could still be with Charlie made Lucifer change his mind about you. You might just be what Charlie needs. He hopes that Charlie can forgive him for what he did.

Negative thoughts aside! He needs to get to know his daughter’s partner better! Properly this time.

Help your favorite author by buying them a ko-fi!

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overly-dramatic-artist · 2 months ago

Text

To Have a Heart

“Do you ever wonder what it’s like to dream?”

The Copper-woodsman turns from his gaze at the stars to look at the moon-faced Scarecrow beside him. The Bear, the girl, and her dog had taken to the sleepy spell of the cool night air after spending a long day’s journey trekking the yellow-brick road. Monty stifles a soft laugh at the straw-man’s question.

“I remember what it was like to dream,” he says softly.

“What ever do you mean? I thought you didn’t sleep.”

“I wasn’t always like this….made of metal, I mean.”

“Really?” Moon asks, scooting ever so closer in curiosity. Monty hums in response.

“I used to be an alligator of the fae, blessed by our Goddess with speech and thought,” Monty starts, fondly dipping back into the memories of his youth, remembering the feeling of the sun on his scaly skin. “I was foolish when I was younger…took for granted what it meant to be alive…to be in love. I must’ve messed with the wrong heart, because one day as I went to work in the woods…” he trails off for a moment, the phantom pain of years ago creeping back up his shoulder, “…my axe took over. ‘S like I couldn’t control my own body anymore. Just sliced right through. That heart I broke was no ordinary heart….she had cursed my wares, punished me for my naive cruelty.” He pauses, glancing at Moon’s reaction. The straw-man just stared at him with his ever present wonder. To be fair, the poor Scarecrow’s experience with the world had just a few days ago been entirely limited to the pole he was strung to in a corn field.

“I got fixed up by the tinkerer in my village, the only doctors we had were the midwives. He was an odd guy…always making little machines that would could move on their own. I dunno what kind of wizardry he had, but he made my metal arm work. I didn’t know the lengths my scorned lover would take, but….” Monty gestures to his now entirely-made-of-metal body, “…let’s just say, she didn’t stop at one arm. Then it was my legs, my other arm…part of my face…and eventually….well, I didn’t need to eat or drink anymore, don’t need to sleep…not sure I could if I tried. Everything inside me had been replaced with the tinkerer’s intricate machinery…he said I was perfect…but he forgot my heart…it wasn’t until I no longer had one, that I realized how desperately I wanted to love truly. I feel hopeless that I shall ever love again.”

Monty could feel the desire to weep crawling up his gears, overwhelmed by the loss of his divine gift to love.

“What was it like to dream?”

Right. He had meant to answer that.

“Dreaming…to dream was a wonderful thing. To hope for any desire to come true. Even if it only happened when I closed my eyes at night, even then I could feel that there was something to hold on to…” Monty goes quiet, feeling he had said entirely too much. He gazes down at the grass that he could only imagine would be ever so soft to the touch. After a few moments of silence filled by the chirps of the lightning crickets in the flowery fields, he hears a wistful sigh from the Scarecrow beside him

“To dream is to love,” Moon says, staring up at the stars with a dreamy smile. Monty feels the echo of a beat in his wire-filled chest, the memory of the fluttery putter patter from his youth.

“Yes…I suppose it is.”

#mandys drawings #fnaf #writing #dca #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sundrop #moondrop #dca x reader #monty gator #montgomery gator #freddy fazbear #glamrock freddy #wizard of oz #wizard of oz au

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life-at-hogwarts · 2 years ago

Text

Crucio (Ominis x GN! reader) HURT/COMFORT

Pairing: Ominis x reader

Warnings: whump, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, alcohol

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: When you get trapped in Salazar Slytherin’s room of torture, Ominis is forced to relive past trauma. Not being able to bear hearing the sound of your screams he insists on taking your place.

Authors note: This is the first fic I actually finished, hope you enjoy it. Might be a one shot, but I’m thinking about continuing the story.

Finally, Ominis turned around to face you. His expression softened, his mask melting away, revealing the hurricane of emotions he was struggling to hold back.

“Please let me do it. I’d rather take the pain that hear you scream. Believe me, you’ll never forget these kinds of screams. I can’t take hearing you suffer. Please, „ he pleaded. It was an impossible choice, but when you looked at him you knew what to do.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure. Not my first time, remember?”

---

“This is where she died. This is where we’ll die! I shouldn’t have listened to either of you!” Ominis cried out, his voice unusually shrill. While you were searching for comforting things to say, Sebastian, who had been studying the door finally broke his silence. “I’m sorry about your aunt, Ominis. But I know how to get us out of here. It’s going to be difficult,” he murmured absentmindedly. Unlike his friend, the tall brunette did not seem to be bothered by the situation at all, which could only mean he had already come up with a plan.

“What do you mean you know how to get us out of here?” you asked.

“Look around. Tortured faces on the door and ‘Crucio’ etched into the stone. My guess is if we cast the Cruciatus curse the door will open. That’s why Noctua died - she had no one to cast the curse on. Ominis has the most experience with this. He should cast it. You seem to be in Ominis’ favor. Will you ask him about this?”

Knowing how insensitive Sebastian could be, you agreed and carefully approached Ominis, who was still anxiously pacing on the other side of the room. Before you could say anything, he blurted out, “I overheard you and Sebastian, and I won’t do it. The Cruciatus curse is pure torture - I would know.”

“Sebastian told me a little of what happened when you were young. It sounded as if you had no choice,” you replied, hoping he wouldn’t mind his friend sharing this with you. You still vividly remembered how badly he reacted to finding out you knew about the Undercroft. To your surprise, this time he didn’t even mention it. If anything, he seemed glad that he didn’t have to explain it to you himself.

“One always has a choice. I’m as guilty as the worst of my family. Unforgivable curses won’t work unless you really mean them. I had to want to cause pain and for that I shall never forgive myself. That spell is the reason I have no family left,” he exclaimed frantically.

“You’re not a bad person, Ominis. I know you. You are good. What happened was not your fault, do you hear me? You have to forgive yourself.”

Ominis misty grey eyes filled with tears. “Please don’t make me do it. I can’t. I won’t,” he whimpered and covered his ears with his hands, as if to block out a noise only he could hear. “I don’t want to. Please don’t make me.”

Shocked by his reaction you immediately started apologizing. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t even have asked. We will figure out another way, I promise,” you assured him, softly placing your hand on his arm. Seeing him this upset rattled you, and you wanted nothing more than give him a hug, but he pulled away and sat down on the floor, cradling his head and rocking back and forth. Unsure what to do you looked at Sebastian for help. He gestured with his head to come to him. You felt awful leaving Ominis like this but obeyed his bidding.

“I’m guessing that’s a ‘no’ from Ominis. It’s up to us then. I can teach you Crucio or I can cast it on you.”

“You know how to cast Crucio? Why did you have me ask Ominis in the first place? You know how badly that spell messed him up!” you snapped at him, pointing at his friend who clearly was not doing well.

“I’m not sure I do. But I think I can cast it if I have to. It sure is a better option than dying in here,” Sebastian replied calmly. His composure was truly remarkable, and you were glad that at least one of you was keeping a cool head. Now it was your turn to do your part. You had already made the decision.

“Alright. But you must cast it. I could never bring myself to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Sebastian nodded and you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying to brace yourself for what was coming next. When you opened them again the two of you exchanged a solemn look, and he pulled out his wand. Before he could open his mouth, Ominis had crossed the room, moving with the stealth and swiftness of a cat and grabbed Sebastian’s arm, forcing him to lower his wand.

“Cast it on me,” he demanded, his face an impenetrable mask.

“Ominis, no. He’ll cast it on me,” you protested but the blonde ignored you, standing his ground.

“Didn’t know you’re all so eager to be tortured,” Sebastian remarked dryly.

Finally, Ominis turned around to face you. His expression softened, his mask melting away, revealing the hurricane of emotions he was struggling to hold back. “Please let me do it. I’d rather take the pain that hear you scream. Believe me, you’ll never forget these kinds of screams. I can’t take hearing you suffer. Please, „ he pleaded. It was an impossible choice, but when you looked at him you knew what to do.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure. Not my first time, remember?”

You recalled what Sebastian had told you earlier regarding Ominis’ experience with the curse. The thought of his family torturing him as a child, made your blood boil with anger, and now he had to go through it again. Everything inside of you was screaming to take his place but you knew how stubborn he could be. You opened your mouth, ready to argue, but closed it again when you caught Sebastian quietly shaking his head to signal you that you should leave it alone. This way Ominis at least had some control over the situation. The tall brunette took the lead, by pointing his wand and preparing himself to cast the spell.

“Ready?” he asked, looking at Ominis grimly.

“I’m ready.”

Sebastian took a deep breath and his eyes darkened.

“Crucio.”

The second the spell hit him, Ominis groaned and doubled over in pain, his body twitching involuntarily as the curse shot through him in a bolt of cackling red light. The door seemed to feed off his pain, absorbing every single drop of it. You watched with tears in your eyes as he fell to his knees screaming out in agony. Ominis had been right. This was awful. The sounds he made vibrated through your entire body, making the hair on your neck stand up in terror. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Stop it, Sebastian.” you screamed hysterically, your voice breaking but he shook his head again. The door was not open yet. Not knowing what to do you threw yourself on the floor next to Ominis and took his hand, hoping it would give him some sort of comfort. His screaming had died down to a mere whimpering, which for some reason was even worse. You fought the urge to hold your ears to block out the awful sounds coming from the boy on the ground and held his hand even tighter. At last, the door started to melt away, giving way to the room behind it and Sebastian stopped the spell.

Ominis was on his side, his misty eyes staring into nothingness. “Ominis?” you asked carefully but he didn’t react. Sebastian joined you and kneeled next to his other side, checking on his friend. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?” When this too was met with silence you exchanged a worried look with Sebastian. You had both heard the horror stories of people being driven mad by the curse. “Ominis. Say something.” After another 30 seconds that felt like an eternity, he opened his mouth and whispered, “I’m fine.” Slowly, he sat up and a small sob escaped your lips. He was a mess. His face was wet with tears, his hair disheveled and robes covered in dirt. “Don’t scare us like that,” Sebastian grumbled and roughly patted his friend’s shoulder, before getting up and glancing through the doorway. “You have to see this! We made it. We found Salazar Slytherin’s scriptorium.”

Still in shock, you watched Sebastian disappear into the other room, leaving you alone with Ominis. For a moment, you sat in silence, both trying to process what just happened. “Are you really alright?” you asked, even though you could already guess the answer. He most definitely did not look okay. In fact, you had never seen him in such a state before. He was there but not really present. The confident, sassy Slytherin you had gotten to know and love was gone, his body an empty shell. It was like he was trapped in his own dimension of hell, having to relive the torture he went through as a child. He flinched when your question brought him back to reality, then slowly turned his head to face you, “Not really. You?” “Not really.”

You fell into each other’s arms, desperately holding on to each other, trying to find comfort in the warmth of the embrace. You felt his body relax against yours and leaned into him, even more. A stifled sob escaped his mouth, and he buried his head in your shoulder. Following his example, you let your tears flow freely. The sound of his screams still rang in your ears. The sheer agony in his voice was the worst thing you’ve ever heard, and you couldn’t stop replaying it in your head. You needed him as much as he needed you. His arms wrapped around you, holding on to you as if you were the only thing keeping him from drowning.

You let your fingers run through his hair and pressed your face into his neck, inhaling the sweet scent of his shampoo. Your touch seemed to have a calming effect on him, his breathing slowed down and his grip on you weakened. “You’re okay,” you murmured over and over again, like a mantra, unsure if you were saying this to soothe him or yourself. Slowly, the chaos in your head started to ebb down. It was impossible to tell if you stayed like this for minutes or hours but neither of you was ready to let go. Finally, Ominis tightened his grip on you once more before breaking away.

For a moment you looked at each other in awkward silence, both unsure what to say after the intimate moment you had just shared. “Ominis…” you started but he interrupted you. “I don’t want to talk about it. For now, let’s focus on getting out of here.”

With one swift movement he got up and elegantly offered you his hand. A gentleman as always. Glad, that he seemed to be back to his old self again, you let him help you up. After dusting himself off, he took the lead and walked towards the entrance of the scriptorium, with you following close behind. All of a sudden, your gaze fell on the pile of bones in the corner, and you froze. “What’s wrong?” Ominis asked, his voice full of concern. “Your aunt. Her…remains are right behind you.” “Oh.” You guided his hand towards the spot so that he could see it with his wand, watching his face closely for his reaction but he remained expressionless. Then he quietly asked, “Would you mind giving me a minute alone?” It broke your heart how much pain he had to endure in one single night, and you squeezed his arm reassuringly before stepping through the doorway.

When you entered the scriptorium, you were greeted by Sebastian, who seemed to be completely oblivious to what just happened. “What is taking you guys so long? Come take a look at what I found. Slytherin’s spell book. I have only browsed but it looks promising. I think this could be the key to curing Anne.” His eyes sparkled with excitement when he showed you the old dusty tome with Slytherin’s initials on the front.

“That’s great news Sebastian,” you replied, forcing yourself to give him a smile. Of course, you were happy that there was new hope for curing Anne, but the price for this book had been high and Ominis was the one who had had to pay it. Sebastian didn’t notice and enthusiastically continued talking while he showed you around the scriptorium.

“This room is amazing. I could spend hours and hours rummaging through all of these books.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s with the sour face? Ominis is fine, isn’t he?” he grumpily asked, as he turned around to look for his friend, who was nowhere to be seen.

“No. And neither am I. I want to leave. You got what you came here for.” It wasn’t your way to be so cross with him, but you were still on edge and desperately wanted to get away from this place, that was practically vibrating with dark magic.

Sebastian looked at you with a mixture of confusion and defiance. “You can’t be serious? There is still so much to explore.” You let out a deep sigh and prepared to argue, when Ominis appeared at the foot of the stairs, joining in on the conversation. “I agree. Let’s get out of here.” His voice was calm and authoritative, leaving no room for debate. In one hand, he held his wand, the other was clutching a gigantic vase. You furrowed your brows in confusion before you realized what he had been doing while you and Sebastian had been talking. “Is that…?”

“I am going to take her with me. Give her a proper burial.”

Finally, understanding dawned in Sebastian’s face and he gave in, waiting for you to take the vase from Ominis before gesturing to follow him. The exit was hidden in an eerie looking statue of Salazar Slytherin’s face with a snake coming out of its mouth. Sebastian stepped forward and tapped the snake’s head with his wand, causing the statue to rotate and reveal a platform of sorts. “After you.” A few minutes later, when all of you were back in the Slytherin dungeon, Sebastian spoke up. “About your aunt Ominis -”

“Please, Sebastian. All I want is for you to swear never to engage in anything to do with dark magic ever again. You almost got us all killed tonight, with your stupid obsession with the scriptorium.”

“We are so close to curing Anne. I found Slytherin’s spell book in the scriptorium, and I think I saw something that could be useful….”

Ominis face crumpled with pain and disappointment. His best friend truly did not care about anything other than his search for a cure. He turned away from Sebastian, who was still rambling on about some spell he had found. When he noticed that Ominis wasn’t listening he snapped at him, “Why are you not happy for me? I thought you cared about my sister.”

After a long, tiring night, you’d had enough of his selfish behavior and stepped in.

„I know how important finding a cure for Anne is to you, but right now this is about Ominis. We put him through hell tonight, do you understand that? He has every right to be angry at you. You keep putting yourself before everyone else and completely ignore the wreckage you leave in your path.”

Sebastian glared at you, ready to retaliate. “Why isn’t he angry at you then? After all, you convinced him to go in there.”

“I’m sure he is, and he is right to be. Tonight was a mistake. Now take this and find a place to hide it for tonight. It’s the least you can do. Tomorrow we will decide what to do with it. I’m taking Ominis home.” You handed him the vase with Noctua’s remains and held his angry gaze.

“He can find his own way back to the dorms you know. He’s not helpless.”

“Of course he can. I just don’t want him to be alone right now.”

With that you turned around and demonstratively took Ominis hand, interlocking your fingers with his. “Let’s go.” You felt his surprise, but he went along with it and didn’t pull away. Usually, he hated it when people tried to help him in any sort of way, and you almost expected him to snap at you but tonight he was tame as a kitten, letting you lead him down the corridor, away from a fuming Sebastian. He too seemed to be too tired to argue. The sound of your steps echoed through the empty corridors as you walked in silence. When you stopped in front of the entrance of the Slytherin dorms, you waited for him to take charge and decide whether or not he wanted to invite you into their common room. He didn’t let go of your hand when he spoke the password and the gigantic snake revealed the door. After a few seconds of hesitation, he stepped forward, gently pulling you with him and you followed.

You had been here quite a few times with Sebastian, still the elegance and grandeur of the Slytherin common room never ceased to amaze you. The room was filled with eerie greenish light leaking from the windows showing the depths of the black lake. The only sound was the gentle cackle of wood being devoured by the flames. You followed Ominis, or rather let him guide you, to a sofa right in front of the big windows that faced the water. Only then did he let go of your hand and slumped into the soft pillows. You awkwardly waited a few moments before sitting down yourself. Ominis rubbed his face and sighed wearily, “I don’t need you to stand up for me.”

“I know. I just wanted to make it clear to him how wrong his behavior was tonight. I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. I should have never asked you to show us the entrance. This is my fault.”

“I appreciate that. I have already forgiven you. Everybody makes mistakes.”

You raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that Ominis was usually not one to hold back his anger when someone screwed up. His tongue was as sharp as his wits and not something to be messed with, as you knew from firsthand experience. Tonight, he was oddly calm, it was almost unsettling.

“Yeah, but mine almost got us killed.”

“You know me. I’m a thrill seeker,” he replied dryly, making you snort with laughter. Amused by this, Ominis too started giggling and you laughed even harder. It probably was the adrenaline, but you could not stop laughing, both of you cackling hysterically like maniacs. It took you some time to calm down, but the laughter had helped dissolve some of the stress and you felt a little better.

“Glad you have your sense of humor back. Seriously though, are you going to be okay?” you asked solemnly.

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I worry about you, silly. You have been through a lot tonight.”

“Please don’t. I can’t…I can’t talk about it,” he whispered, and his entire body stiffened. Trying to hide how much this affected him he dug his nails into the palms of his trembling hands and avoided your gaze.

“That’s alright. Just know, if you do need to talk, I’m here for you,” you replied softly and placed a hand on his outstretched leg. By now you understood that physical touch had a calming effect on him. It was odd, since he was a very withdrawn person, not like Sebastian, who was rather touchy and comfortable with physical proximity. Ominis was a proper gentleman, always keeping his distance, never intruding your personal space. Yet tonight he really seemed to need the intimacy of human touch.

“There should be some firewhiskey in the globe behind us, would you mind getting it?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“I’m inviting you to join me for a nightcap.”

“Well, if you put it like that, how could I resist?” you chuckled and got up.

As promised, when you opened the globe, you found an almost full bottle of firewhiskey. You waved the bottle in the air letting the liquid slosh loudly against the glass, to let him know about your find and returned to the sofa, but it was empty. Ominis had made himself comfortable on the floor in front of it, resting his arms on the seat. Following his example, you sat down next to him on the soft carpet and handed him the bottle. He took a deep swig of the bronze liquid and passed it on to you. You took a small sip and coughed, quickly handing it back to Ominis. After another few sips he broke the silence.

“Why are you so kind to me?”

“Because I care about you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.”

Too tired to talk, you reached for his hand, and he took it. The way his fingers wrapped around yours ever so gently felt like the most natural thing in the world and you felt the urge to never let go of his hand again. For a while you sat in silence, quietly passing the whiskey back and forth, then Ominis spoke up again.

“You know why I like to sit here so much?” He paused for a moment to look at you, waiting for you to meet his gaze. For a moment you got lost in the reflection of the lake in his milky grey eyes. “Because I like the way, the water breaks the light. I can see light and shadow, you know? When I watch the lake, the light is dancing.”

“That sounds beautiful. Tell me about it.”

“It dances with the rhythm of the waves. It’s so soothing it’s like listening to a lullaby. Sometimes, when it’s stormy it gets really fast and erratic, it’s like I can see the thunderstorm.”

Slowly but surely the alcohol was taking effect and he was struggling to stay awake. He rested his head on your shoulder and asked, “Can we just sit here and watch them for a while?" already starting to slur his words a little.

“Ominis?”

“Mhm?”

“Never scare me like that again.”

Instead of answering he nestled his face into your neck and sighed. You rested your head on his and listened to his breathing slow down as he started to fall asleep, still not letting go of your hand. You smiled at his cute little snores before you too drifted off to sleep.

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randomfoggytiger · 3 months ago

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Mulder Is Not Allowed to Mourn

While working my way through Tempus Fugit and Max, this scene struck me.

Mulder walks over to Max's corpse, somber and mournful; carefully unzips the plastic coverlet from his friend's face; and stares at it deeply before automatically reaching down to explore the body as evidence. A cry catches his attention, and he looks up to a family of mourners a few feet away. Mulder watches them, then stares back down with a strange expression-- as if he is moved by their grief but denied that same open display of emotion.

**Note**: While I don't inherently disagree with these takes, the hypothesis below is, overall, ill-formed. But it shall be left up for posterity's sake~.

We know the extensive history of The X-Files's traumas on one Dana Scully. It's rather self-evident, for one; but it's also obvious, played up for plot points to grow her character or progress the plot forward. And that principle extends to Mulder, too, right? Yes... but it differs in one key area.

Mulder and Scully suffer gendered violence repeatedly on the show. The Syndicate often reduces Scully down to her body and reproductive system (reluctantly coming to see her as Mulder's equal, if not their own, because of her intelligence and professionalism.) Mulder, however, is beaten over the head with trauma, and isn't allowed to mourn-- is supposed to, as the saying goes, "take it like a man."

And this wasn't an accidental flaw of (chiefly) Chris Carter and Frank Spotnitz's writing: it was intentional. Nor was its bent misogynistic. Mulder suffered trauma; and the exploration and revelation and closure of that trauma served as the series' backbone. Specifically, Mulder suffered trauma through a gendered lens, propagated by his closest mentors (e.g. his parents and Bill Patterson), his label-and-dismiss peers (e.g. "Spooky Mulder"), his higher ups, and his society at large. Men are supposed to suffer in silence, if they must; but most importantly, they're not supposed to suffer at all.

We see this belief stem back to Mulder's parents, to the Consortium generation, to A.D. Skinner, to the 90s vulnerable males who feel a sense of shame or discomfort at being "failures" or "victims". Each crumbles or bears their cross on their shoulders as a form of duty. They feel, as Mulder demonstrates in Tempus Fugit, that they aren't allowed to mourn, minimizing and backing away from their pain for a later (inconvenient) date. They can feel loss, and sorrow; but aren't supposed to feel it for long.

Mulder's and Scully's characters served to break traditional barriers: he the believer, she the skeptic. He opened himself back up to painful memories to recover what he lost while she repressed and avoided them. He more openly expresses pain, she does not. However, the narrative-- or David Duchovny, or both-- shows time and again that Mulder also serves as a magnifying glass of mens' issues and expectations. In the early seasons, Mulder's trauma is exploited by shadowy informants, ex-girlfriends, malicious higher-ups, and his own mother. Whenever Scully is in peril, Mulder is expected to leave her in the dust and run after the truth; and is yelled or sneered at when he deviates from that expectation. In Fight the Future, it's revealed his father spared him so Mulder could grow up and stop the Conspiracy: yes because Bill loved him, but also because he expected his son to "save the world." These Mulder moments aren't written as a glorification of the strong and silent suffering male, either: in fact, Carter and Spotnitz often slow the script down just enough to touch on the toll it takes on Mulder-- and the toll it took on Bill Mulder, CSM, Bill Patterson, and countless others.

While Scully's traumas are explored and the men who do it to her are demonized, Mulder's are largely shoved aside-- despite them serving as the central mission of The X-Files-- because Mulder himself shoves them aside. Even though Mulder is the "believer", he is still a man; and despite breaking many of society's rules and expectations regularly (and with delight), Mulder is still twisted up in self-loathing and shame, seeing his needs-- and an expression of those needs-- as secondary to everyone else's. He is desperate to save his sister and his partner; he is devastated he can't save his father, his mother, and (again) his sister. But he constantly redirects that devastation away from himself, not facing it as Scully allows herself to do in therapy or after her remission (or after Milagro.)

There is an inherent message left unaddressed in the middle of each script, scene, and episode: Mulder is repressed, Scully is seeking repression. Mulder and Scully both judge themselves on societies' expectations for men, and both feel shame when indulging in painful emotions. But while Scully will seek space for herself-- will grieve or cry in the shelter of isolation-- Mulder refuses to allow himself that relief. And despite not being "that type of show", the writers (usually) slow down the scene to allow brief glimpses into the wrongness of that expectation and its damage for both.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

#txf #xf meta #mine #S4 #Tempus Fugit #xf fanvid #vids #Mulder

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tokoyamisstuff · 2 months ago

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Penance...

...in which Father Anderson makes you repent for the sin of making him fall for you.

18+ | 2,5k. words | f! Reader | not proofread | happy ending

Inspired by -> those <- old Headcanons from @thirstyforlulu that made me feel things.

Warnings: some angst, porn without plot, hatefuck, dom/sub undertones, slut shaming, choking, spanking, seriously this is just pure filth...he asks for consent several times tho.

Father Anderson's unmistakeable steps were echoing through the hallway long before he reached his destination. Just like with an approaching thunderstorm, if you hear it coming, it's already far too late to hide.

His knocks were loud and impatient, bearing a subtle threat that shall you keep him waiting any longer, he might as well tear down the goddamn door. He didn't mind the possibility of anyone hearing what's going on, and frankly he was too blinded by his wrath to even care.

Because now that he made up his mind, not even god himself would be able to stop him.

It feels like an eternity until you finally open, sleepily blinking up to the man that had so rudely disturbed your night's rest. He was wordlessly looming over you, face twisted in rage and something undecipherable. Yet there was no anger, no fear to be detected in your alluring gaze, just trusting confusion.

"Father?" You sound worried, tilting your head to the side as you rub your eyes and for the fraction of the moment, his features soften. "Is everything alright?"

Anderson balls his fists several times, jaw clenched tight as the last remnant of his volition still hesitated to give in to this overwhelming desire. He was torn apart on the inside, but his self-restraint fainted with every passing second in your proximity.

After endless nights of praying, begging god for guidance, he had grown weary to ward off these intense feelings. For decades he fullfilled his holy duty without fail, had never asked for anything before and yet it seemed that in this time of adversity his god had forsaken him.

If the Lord would not answer his prayers, then he would stop trying to renounce what he so greatly yearned for. But once that line is crossed, there would be no going back for either of you.

Well, then so be it.

A desperate groan cut through the silence and eventually his lips crash over yours as he enters, slamming the door shut behind him. The kiss takes your breath away, despite the obvious inexperience there was to it. You gasp when his tongue forcefully splits your mouth open, running across your bottom lips before exploring the inside.

Anderson's chest is heaving as he tore himself away from you, breath visible as feeble mist. You cannot make out his eyes behind the reflection of his glasses, but that wasn't necessary to notice his emotional turmoil.

You were overwhelmed but at the same time incredibly blissful that he had the courage to do what you never would've dared. That initial excitement wouldn't last long however, and before you could even register what happened, the priest had bent you over the next best surface. A bang halls through the room as your head hits onto the tabletop, your body pressed against the cold material at least partially soothing the pain.

"Do ye have no shame, woman?" His tone is unusual cold, sending a shiver down your spine as he speaks. "Dragging a righteous man of faith down to your level is a sin against god."

"Wha-" You still felt dizzy due to the impact, but slowly began to grasp the situation. "But Alexander, I didn't do anything wro-"

"That's still 'Father Anderson' for ye" he reminds, harshly janking back your hair.

How dare you acting all innocent now? You knew exactly what you were doing, all this time!

With the way you acted, presented yourself, spoke around him there's no way he could buy any cheap excuse of yours right now. Every subtle touch of yours made him feel like electric shocks surged through his system, every sweet affirmation only further worsening this tormenting need that could only be quenched by having you in every way possible.

It was sweet torture to be given fractions of what he could never have, and yet giving in would mean losing a central part of himself forever.

When he shall betray his oath, then he'll at least make you pay the price.

Anderson grids, almost snarls as he remembered your past transgressions, wants to make you feel just a fraction of the misery you made him go through.

"The devil has triumphed" he explained coldly, impassive even. "and you are his accomplice. You must be punished for your actions."

"N-No, please- ah!" You bite your tongue to suppress a moan, feeling Anderson grind against you from behind.

"Just look at you" he spat, tone laced with a venom he usually only adressed heathens and monsters with. You wore nothing but a thin, almost translucent nightgown and a string which he provocatingly tugged on, his tongue clicking in contempt. "Is that how a virtuous servant of god is supposed to dress? Pathetic."

Embarrassment washes over you but there was no time to dwell in your pity, since his hands already sneak beneath the fabric, the cold leather of his gloves making your nipples betray you and stiffen under his touch. "No better than a Babylonic whore..."

The implication of both his words and actions fills you with dread.

It is so unlike himself to act this way, as if the sweet, caring man you once knew had been replaced by a cruel lunatic, akin to a feral beast. He frightened you like this, and you anxiously wondered if you'd ever see the real Anderson again. The man that had sworn to protect you, who would never voluntarily hurt you in any way.

He seems far away now.

"I-I really don't know what you're talking abo-" Anderson cuts you off right there, fingers digging deep into the flesh of your hips as he rams them against his clothed cock. You feel him harden as you try to squirm out of his grasp, your writing only spurring him more.

"Don't play dumb. Ye wanted me to do this, didn't ye?" The assassin leans over your shaking body, his breath hot on your ear as he chuckles darkly. "Tell me I'm wrong and I'll stop at once."

You stare at him for a while, completely quiet, before averting your eyes in shame, not denying his accusations. "Knew it..." The man smirks diabolical, tearing your gown apart at the seam in one skilled movement. "This whole time you tried to entice me even though you knew the consequence, yes?"

You were at loss for words. While the priest was right about your indecent attachment, you never planned to take it any further - at least not consciously. Maybe you did act different around him, but that would mean you're at fault for tempting one of the churches most loyal. No wonder he's behaving so twisted, his faith means everything to him after all.

What does that make you?

Tears dwell in your eyes and countless apologies drop from your lips, but they all went on deaf ears.

"No need to ask me" he declares, pointing to the sky. "Tell it to god."

You might have succeeded to make him commit this sin, but at least he'll do it on his terms...

...and right now he wants you to ask for forgiveness until the sound of your pleas would quiet the screaming conscience in his mind.

The priest places a firm hand on your ass, groaning at the sensation. "Lets see if you caught up on your teachings. Recite 1 John, 1:9."

"If we confess our sins, he will for- ah!"

"Wrong" he emphasizes his word with a slap, ordering "Again."

“I-If we- ouch!" you hiss, and your screams are like music in his ears. "No stuttering when you talk about the Lord's gospel. Again."

This scenery repeats several times, with the priest always finding some minor detail to reject your version, all just to dwell into this reverted power dynamic a little longer.

"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”

"Amen. Good girl..." he purrs, rubbing the sore flesh of your behind, until his fingers find something else to busy themselves with, fingertips brushing against your folds. "So wet already...you really wanted this, huh? Ye happy now?"

You nod both eager and bashful, the endearing sight almost appeasing him enough to go easier on you...only almost, though. Without warning he pumps one finger inside, a muffled gasp escaping your throat at the action. It works with such ease that he enters another and then one more, the material of his gloves making lewd noices as he prepares you well.

"Don't tell me you've done this before..." You coat yourself in silence once again. He knew very well you were a woman long before turning your way towards religion way later in life. "Tz tz tz...such a dirty, filthy thing in my church..."

You whine and buckle your hips when he pulls out, much to his amusement. His gloves are coated with your juice and he leads them to his tongue, getting a sample of your nectar while he stares you down intensely.

Shit, you taste like heaven.

"Nah-ah-ah..." Anderson scolds as he roams your curves, his finally uncovered palm relishing the sensation of your tender skin against his calloused hands. "Sinners don't get to cum...yet."

The man keeps holding you firmly in place, his other hand unbuckling his belt. You feel his thick head at your entrance, a mixture of panic and fervor rising in your chest.

"Last chance to tell me to stop" he warns, a paradox fondness in the way he speaks opposite to how he's handling you. "N-No...please..."

"Please what?" Growing impatient, you feel his erection twitch as he rubs himself between your thighs. "Speak up."

"Shit- please...I want you, Anderson...ah!" The man lets out a gluttural sound when he buries himself inside of you, slowly stretching your insides.

Bloody fucking hell, you feel even better than he could ever have imagined.

"Such a pretty lil' thing..." he murmurs as he watches you so neatly wrapped around his cock, giving you some time to adjust to his size before he starts moving. "So pretty and mine."

You groan at the pleasant ache, feeling so damn full when he starts violently thrusting into you, showering you with both vile curses and enamored praise.

Anderson keeps you pinned down, wrists twisted behind your back and your head pressed against the furniture. Like in a trance he keeps up this brutal pace, puts all of his pent-up frustration into it as he mercilessly rams into you.

"D-Don't stop...mhh..." His movements become more erratic, but your sweet pleas make him chase this high for you. He keeps hitting a spot that makes you sing for him until he feels your body tense beneath his. You see stars, being reduced to a moaning and trembling mess as Anderson rides you through your high.

The way you moan his name like it's a sacred prayer sends him over the edge shortly after and he stops, ramming into you one more time and spilling deep inside of you.

Anderson remains still, stays like this for a while before he pulls out, watching his seed leaking out and dripping down your leg. Out of a whim he shoves it all back in, keeping his fingers steady against your sensitive hole. "Ye wanted it, now don't ye dare wasting any."

His orgasm had hit him with a force that made his mind go blank, but when the haze in his brain slowly fades, the realization of what he just did made the pleasant aftershock vanish in an instant. Anger boils up in his guts once again, at constant war with the conflicting flutters of his heart.

"...god, I hate you..."

Those words together with his disgusted look made your chest narrow, but you were far too exhausted to have a proper reaction. You want to move and quickly cover yourself, but he's far from done yet, swiftly spinning you around on your back and aligning himself with your entrance again. "I don't think so" he mocks, a sadistic glee present on his features as he presses his thumb on your clit, earning a cry. "We'll continue until you've learned your lesson."

Anderson holds you down by the throat as he shoves himself inside you again, the overstimulation almost too much to bear. You feel like you've been set on fire, clawing on his arm to make him have mercy. And yet he feels your walls clench around him each time he squeezes down on your windpipe.

Indeed, seeing you like this, all messed up and stained with tears, isn't nearly as satisfying as he hoped it to be. Quite the opposite even, he loathes himself for being so obviously unable to be the man you deserve.

Maybe that was what this is about...

All his life he scorned having been born a mere man, since the weight of awareness that came with it was simply crushing. He strived to become an unfeeling tool to implement god's will, and as such he shouldn't have to feel like this.

So why can't he shake off what makes him so undeniably human?

"Stop..." he grids in between frantic thrusts, voice cracking. "Stop...looking at me...like...that..."

Still, you stare at him in awe as if he just personally hung the moon, hand trailing across the arm holding you down until it settled on his cheek. Your lips mutely form his name before curving into a vibrant smile, and he is completely and utterly forlorn at the sight.

Anderson lets out a sob as closes the gap between the two of you again, his mouth covering yours in exasperation. "I hate you..." he repeats, his voice meek and more woeful this time. "I hate how much I love you...shit, I love you so, so much, I-"

"I know. I feel the same, Alexander..." You redeem him with another kiss, both passionate and soothing as you wrap your hands around his neck, hands entangled in his hair. He immediately reciprocates, lifting you up against a wall to be as close as humanly possible. More careful this time he settles for a slow pace, head buried in your neck and tenderly raising blood to the skin, placing a mark of possession.

This time you come undone together in a tight embrace, unwilling to let go even long after the waves of your release ebbed away. Your foreheads are touching and you erupt into relieved laughter, which Anderson cannot help but sheepishly join in.

He begins planting countless pecks to your face, neck, shoulder, wherever his lips could reach, a hint of remorse flashing in his eyes as he caresses the bruise forming on your neck.

"Come." He timidly lets you down on your still wobbly feet, stuffing himself back into his pants. "Get dressed. We need to get going."

"Wha-" you raise an eyebrow at him as he throws the next best piece of clothing your way, almost offended at the lack of aftercare. "Where to?!"

"The confessional." Oh, that man is fucking crazy. "Then let me at least take a shower befo- hey!"

There was no use in arguing, for he had already picked you up again, bridal style this time. "Later" he urges, pressing a wet kiss into your hair and another one to your cheek. "I'll carry you if I have to."

Seems like the old Anderson is back...too bad, since you had just started enjoying this other side of his.

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #alexander anderson #alexander anderson x reader #father anderson #iscariot #reader insert #writing #fanfiction #oneshot

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witchofhimring · 4 months ago

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Loyalty Chapter 16

Synopsis: Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader

Aemond Targaryen x Ellyn Baratheon

Alys Rivers x Aemond Targaryen

Jaecerion Targaryen x Reader

Jason Lannister x Reader (minor)

(more to come!)

Y/n Tyrells Profiles

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, childbirth, emotional turmoil, death, unrequited love?, humiliation by Ellyn Baratheon, marital abuse, marital consummation, misogamy (internalized as well as external), brief depictions of smut, moontea/abortions, suicide, mentions of rape (not to the reader), Plot twist at the end!

They say when one dies there should be as few regrets as possible. Many spend their lives making sure that when the hour comes, they can look back with satisfaction. You were not dying, but your living days were over. With the sentence came the end of life. Your body may be breathing, your mind conscious, but your state of existence would be of less than a ghost. Your room was a tomb and your dull green dress funeral garb.

Regret was a heavy cross to bear. Tossing and turning you thought of all the moments you could have done something. Every interaction was analyzed, baked in your seething impotent hatred. Sometimes you wished for death. Others you imagined bursting out of the prison cell and killing every last one of them. Eating, drinking and sleeping in woe you wondered if this was madness. If it was you greatly lamented it. Could your madness have not made you unaware so as to spare you further suffering?

They say the gods punish those non believers. And your subs had been great. In hell you were, no need to die. Every day yawned onto a new dark night where you lingered in purgatory. You might have prayed. ‘But none can hear my prayers now.’

You were beyond the help of men.

To say you had no visitors would be a lie. Every few days Cerilla would come in and read from The Seven Pointed Star. Her favourites were on whores and adulteresses who met bad ends. At times like these you tuned her out. It was easier in a way. Being locked alone made you so used to the silence it could be overwhelming. She was like a fly you could not catch. Irritating, but so miniscule. The trial and constant anguish had drenched your fire. Where once you might have spat and clawed her beautiful white face, oh those days. Their like would not be seen in this life.

'No!' With a great wail you were wrenched out of sleep. A horrid agony seized you with such ferocity it was painful. Doubled up you moaned; 'No...no...' Slipping off the bed onto cold stone floor you were a lowly creature. Burning tears streamed down a cold worn face. The day before Cerilla had read Fate of a Sinner, a story where an evil queen was locked up for the rest of her days. Grieving over her loss the queen raged unrepentantly, for she had been evil. When the last of her hope was killed the queen shriveled up, never to set out again. You felt like that queen, crumpled to dust on the ground.

All night you remained on the ground. Not even the cold could encourage you to get up. 'I fear I shall never get up again.' Despair triumphed over sadness.

Only thoughts of Owen kept you sane. 'She will not kill him. Jenna needs him.' Then you would go to sleep, for that was the only way to escape. Mercifully your dreams were sweet. Small mercies.

What would Owen think of you in the years to come? One day he would be Lord of Highgarden. Should you be alive in such a time, then who knows. So much could happen. There was a small glimmer of hope at you imagined freedom in the future. It was not something you wholly believed in. Maybe when you were younger, but the years had stripped that from you. You contented yourself with the knowledge that whatever happened, Owen was safe.

'Your son is dead.' Cerilla did not even give you any warning. She simply came in and mentioned your only childs death as if it were the weather. Immediately you understood the truth. The glint in her eyes and the crow of her voice said everything. Owen, your son, was dead. 'Di you kill him.' The voice was not your own. Pitched and ragged it belonged to a mad woman, someone who was not you. All you could think of was Owen. Owen who was your son. Owen who was dead.

Cerilla did not stay for long. She mentioned about just having gotten back from King's Landing, something about Tyshara. And then she was gone. There was no need. Cerilla had succeeded in utterly break you. She would not visit you, there was no reason to. Now you were just some childless madwoman left to die alone and unloved. All the dead swam before you and into the arms of despair you fell. And there the specter of Owen, Jeacerion, your father and all the dead stood, blue dripping from their mouths.

Alicent Hightower was breathing her last. Day and night merged into one as the hour of her death drew nearer. She was so, so cold. Her sight was unfocused. There was a window and sunlight, but her eyes did not register these things. Someone was sitting by her bed, murmuring.

The white dress she was felt soothing against skin. When all the green was cleared she felt a sense of relief. Only white adorned her room, pure innocent white. Alicent had not worn white except to bed since her wedding day. She had always thought death would be scary, but right now she welcomed it. She was drifting away from this sad world of men. She only prayed regret would not follow her to the afterlife.

She mumbled something in the midst of her delirium. Her eyes burned from crying. The figure leaned in forward and said something. The former Querns mouth opened as wispy words tumbled out. And she saw their faces….oh their sweet faces. ‘I want to see my sons again, and Helaena my sweet girl, oh…and Rhaenyra. I will read to her under the Weirwood tree as we did when we were little. Flying around on Syrax eating lemon cakes.’ And ahead she saw clouds. Soaring above she saw them flying on dragons. And she was amongst them, older, but happier. There was a dull ache as she dreamed of what could have been. A world where women had a say in their destinies. 'In another life, pray I make the right choices. Let me be happy in heaven.' Happy as she had not been in life. As Alicent drifted away her thoughts were of those she loved.

Tyshara stood above Owen’s crib. She had never met her younger brother. He was small and very cute. Despite that woman’s colouring the babe looked very much like her father. Tyshara had entertained the possibility of Y/n having an affair. But she had never truly given it any real credence. Reaching down Tyshara brushed hair out of Owen’s face. Tyshara wondered if she could hate the babe. But now the very idea seemed ridiculous. Picking him up, Owen rested his little head against her shoulder.

‘He has no mother now.’ And something heavy fell into her stomach. Yes, there was a reason, and she had seen to it. Tyshara comforted herself with the notion Owen was better off without a murderer for a mother. That night she slept.

Highgarden was everything she dreamed of. Lucious gardens, flowers large as her head, tea parties with lemon cakes, warm night with stars twinkling. She missed her sisters but Jenna Tyrell and Cerilla Swann were always nice. Two of her friends joined. Karina her cousin and Lolly Payne joined and provided a blanket of security. She made new friends, including Jenna Tyrell’s good-daughter Florice Swann. She had been nervous when told she would be sent to Highgarden as a ward. But so far everything was very nice indeed.

‘Did you hear that Y/n Tyrell is coming back to Highgarden?’ Startled, Tyshara gapped at Cerilla Swann. ‘Truly? How come?’ Tyshara did not much look forward to seeing Y/n Tyrell slinking about the castle. ‘Yes. We have suitable room for a woman of her….situation.’ ‘I won’t have to see her, will I?’ Cerilla laughed. Unlike her other laughs this one sent unpleasant tingles down her spine. ‘Oh, no. Y/n will never be free again. I assure you that.’ Somehow this did not cheer Tyshara up. Something ugly stirred within. For now Tyshara decided to ignore it.

'A letter from my father's uncle?' Tyshara was paying a visit to Jenna Tyrell as she normally did. Once a day Jenna summoned her to speak over tea. These gatherings were very nice. She enjoyed cakes and treats from Essos. Jenna was kind enough. They flipped through books and Jenna gave her advice. 'Always keep your ears open, my child. A man may have his sword, but we posses other weapons.' Thinking it sage advice Tyshara hung onto every word. Jenna sat in a great oak chair. Tyshara had never met a queen before, hand queen Helaena or Alicent lived she might have been a lady in waiting. All she had were picture books of queens long past. Her favourites had always been Good Queen Alysanne and Visenya. Alysanne had been a just queen in her day, and Visenya had answered every challenge with bravery. It may be odd to idolize both women, as one gave birth to the man who terrorized the other. Maybe she just admired bravery. As a little girl Tyshara dreamed of meeting such a queen. Seeing Jenna sitting there looking every inch regal Tyshara was nearly blown away.

'My Lady.' Tyshara dipped into a curtsy. The great lady gave a smile and Tyshara blushed. To have the attention of such a woman. 'Lady Tyshara, please sit.' Tyshara sat down, careful to straighten out her dress, discretely. Jenna had given her a new green dress. Hanging off her shoulders the silk flowed behind her. A golden ribbon adorned her hair holding it up. Tyshara noticed the rings on Jenna's fingers. There were several, glittering and standing out. The one that caught Tyshara's attention, however, was the most plain. Well, by most standards it would not be considered plain. The gold circular disk had a rose embedded into it. Long ago the Tyrells had been stuarts of Highgarden. Tyshara found it funny that the Gardeners were gone only for a flower to be the lands symbol. It rested, shining on Jenna's finger. The ring had been passed down through the past hundred or so years, to be worn by the Lady of Highgarden. The Lady of Highgarden.

Wait.....was it not Florice Swann, Cerilla's elder sister, who was Lady of Highgarden. Granted she had hardly seen the true Lady of Highgarden. Cerilla told her Florice was a reclusive sort. Still it was rather odd that the ring remained with Jenna.

Jenna set aside the parchment. 'As mentioned, your great uncle has sent word from Casterly Rock. You are to attend the Maidens Ball as a candidate for queen." Tyshara nearly leapt from her seat with joy. Her a queen! Tyshara's noble heritage had always entailed prospects of a fine marriage. But to be a queen! There would be others of course. She had no doubt Lady Baratheon would put her girls out. But she had seen the Baratheon girls (at least the two remaining, Ellyn having died of poison and Floris in childbed). Sugars knew she was by far the prettiest.

‘While you are there I want to hear what is going on at court. Normally I would go myself but these troubled times call for certain sacrifices. Could you do that for me?’ Rushers readily agreed, of course she would. It felt good to be so important, bring a future queen and companion of Jenna Tyrell. ‘I will be a great lady.’ She thought.

Later that day Tyshara ran up to Cerilla’s room. Upon arrival she noticed Cerilla sitting with her sister Florice Swann. There were few similarities. The elders hair was the colour of straw and had a drowned quality to it. Her pale parlour gave her no glow that young women of her age were said to have. While Cerilla’s brown eyes sparkled nearly like gold Florice’s own looked dull. Never before had Tyshara seen such an unhappy woman.

‘Tyshara, how good to see you.’ Graciously Cerilla stood up and took Tyshara by the hands. She lead her to the table where cakes and tea were laid out. Florice’s thin boney hand stretched out taking the cup. Shaking she brought it to her lips. Was she ill? Worried, Tyshara looked to Cerilla. Yet Cerilla looked unbothered. Tyshara wondered if she should say anything. Finally, she decided to remain silent. Of course they would realize Florice was less than healthy. And anyway it may be rude to inquire on such a personal matter. So Tyshara said nothing.

‘That is a lovely dress you are wearing.’ Cerilla smiled with a simple ‘Thank you.’ Cerilla’s dress was similar to Jenna’s with long draping green sleeves. Today Cerilla’s long reddish gold hair was in a half up-do which Tyshara admired. She considered doing the same some time. ‘You look lovely yourself.’ Florice’s voice was wispy and the only reason Tyshara heard it was because of how few people were there. Tyshara quickly composed herself. ‘Thank you, My Lady.’ Tyshara sat down and the three of them ate and talked. Though the talking was mostly done by Cerilla and herself. ‘Tell me, where did you get that bracelet?’ Tyshara looked down at the ruby bracelet sparkling in sunlight. ‘It was a gift from my father, passed down through generations.’ This explanation was not entirely truthful. It was an heirloom but it belonged to a collection passed down to every Lady of Casterly Rock. When she heard her father was remarrying Tyshara took what she could. It gave her satisfaction to know Y/n would not get everything that belonged to her mother. ‘A worthy lady of Casterly Rock may have this bracelet, no one else.’ And so Tyshara kept it for herself. She fully intended to give the bracelet to Owen’s future wife, but that was years away. For now, however, it remained with her, a worthy lady of Casterly Rock.

‘And that is The Mother, see?’ Tyshara held Owen in her arms. He was old enough to hold his head high. By now Owen had gotten used to her presence and so no longer fussed. Tyshara was thrilled to have a brother, even if that woman was his mother. There had been another brother. The birth that had taken her mother’s life produced a boy, weak, who only outlasted their mother by a day. The only thing that gave Tyshara comfort was that her mother had died thinking the baby would live. It made Tyshara angry that her mother tried so hard for so long to have a son only for some woman to sweep in and triumph in only a year. The bitterness was still there, dwelling like a malignant tumor.

'I will be this boy's mother. He won't need her.' Tyshara convinced herself. And with that woman gone she could pretend there was no other woman, that they shared the same parents. It did not matter that they looked so different. He was her beloved brother and she would do anything to protect him. Her beloved baby brother.

She read to him all the stories her mother once had. They were all happy tales with no sad ending. Just light, justice and good triumphing over evil. Just as the world was made to be. Tyshara enjoyed, at night, hiding in her room and having Owen snuggled up in the sheets. A makeshift fort was built like she was still a little girl. Safe and cozy under blankets she slipped into another, happier, world. 'You will be just like one of those knights, Owen. A brave true man who stands up for justice.' It sounded so silly but Tyshara liked to think of herself as a sort of mysterious guardian. Like the handmaidens of The Mother. Looking after the young. With those sweet sentiments, she was lulled into sleep, blocking out the waking world.

She had thought that while those stolen nights allowed her to dwell in dreams, daytime was not so bad. Tyshara could look in those picture books she loved so well and compare them to her life. Jousts, masked balls, fabulous dresses, feasts and laughing the night away. She even had several suitors. At ten and six Tyshara was a woman now and had been turning heads for years. Like most Lannisters she was golden haired with green eyes. Tall and lithe with a slender waist she stood out amongst all the others. It gave her a great deal of joy to be the center of attention. Being fabulously wealthy also helped. New dresses for ever night, glittering in moonlight. 'I am a princess in a story, soon to be a queen.' swept up in the moment Tyshara could only think of how happy she was. Oh how happy she was! 'Let it never end.' She prayed.

Maiden's Day Ball was to take place at the heart of power. With little Jaehaera Targaryen's death Aegon the Third would need a wife. It did not matter than he was miserable, or that every night he awoke in terror, he was king. There was never room for things such as emotions, or pity for a little boy. Tyshara thought of none of these things. Not that he was just a boy, or that her father helped defeat his mother. Not once did she even truly consider him. Sure, she did not expect to bed him, or even feel love. She just saw the crown un all its splendor. When little the idea she might marry Aegon Targaryen, firstborn living son of Viserys, had floated around. That had fallen through with the insistence he marry his sister. At the time the refused had hardly bothered her. Being so little Tyshara had other matters. Such as what was for desert that night. But now and then she considered it. In dreams Tyshara dreamed of bring like a fairytale princess. And now she would be one for real. A beautiful queen coming after war and bloodshed.

They set out in great splendor. After spending months in Highgarden it would be hard to leave. But leaving for King's Landing! There would be celebrations there too. Jenna Tyrell would not be coming, to Tyshara's surprise. Jenna had been invited. But being busy with post-war matters was an understandable reason. No one else was surprised. Apparently Jenna rarely left the confines of her castle. Thankfully Cerilla would be coming along with several other ladies, including Katrina. All bundled into carriages they feasted on sweetmeats and cakes, playing cards and telling stories. They all talked about who was wearing what. They took the greatest interest in gossip and idle chatter. It was a blessed relief after two years of war and misery.

As much as Tyshara looked forward to the ball it was starting to get cold. Highgarden had a cold tinge that was easy to ignore. But despite going south, Tyshara found that the closer to King's Landing they were, the colder it was. Thankfully she had several sturdy cloaks Tyshara had done up. The weather was no true issue. Excitement was so infectious Tyshara cared not a fig for something such as weather. There were greater matters.

Whispers Tyshara paid little head to were the beginning. Of course the roads were not totally safe after a was such as this. Some maidens died or were horribly injured, so they said. But their retinue was so large that Tyshara cared not. Certain maidens were pleased to hear of such morbid details, including a rumor that one girls had her face slit open, nose in half, as it meant less competition. Tyshara tried to put it out of mind. 'Likely a rumor.' One day Tyshara went out of the wheelhouse to ride horses instead. Accompanying her was Katrina and other such friends. Naturally she was not without guards so they were all perfectly safe. Riding on ahead Tyshara enjoyed the wind rippling through her blonde hair. She truly looked a sight, so beautiful with tumbles of hair in curls. 'Katrina, hurry!' They sped on, Katrina laughing. Tyshara was filled with happiness. Soon she would be in King's Landing and Gods willing be queen.

Crack!

There was a scream and Tyshara's horse bolted forward. With a great cry she clung on. The world became a haze of panic and confusion. Fingers slipped and with a thrill of fear Tyshara realized she was falling. Wind was knocked right out of her as Tyshara landed. Both teeth and brain rattled, every bone shook. People were all over her when Tyshara needed space. Someone picked her up and in her pain did not realize immediately what had happened. When the world was back in focus Tyshara realized a great tree had fallen. And under its great body was the crumpled form of Katrina.

She was not celebrating anymore. The horror of seeing Katrina being crushed under such a weight tore at Tyshara. Her dear sweet friend was gone. Any joy there was dissipated, replaced by the feeling of something cold. Staying in the wheelhouse Tyshara held a figure of The Mother. May she guide Katrina in the after life. News of other mysterious deaths were no longer simply speculation. She cursed herself for not paying attention. Otherwise Katrina might be alive. Cerilla seemed oddly detached from the situation. The normally fun loving woman seemed to not care that such a young girl had died. 'At least it was not you.' Cerilla said as if that were comforting.

People grieved but they forced themselves on. Suddenly Tyshara wanted to flee home. Casterly Rock was her haven, not this castle Tyshara had only visited once before, during the trial. This journey felt so much worse. In stoic silence Tyshara remained for the rest of journey. The absence of Katrina widening.

King's Landing was silent, eerily so. The smallfolk looked out through their windows at the lavish procession before them. A chill had descended over the quiet city. Tyshara had heard the stories of riots. Angry smallfolk sweeping through the streets killing all in their path. They had even managed to kill dragons. And yet now these people remained hidden. Perhaps they had enough of fighting.

The Red Keep, on the other hand, was bustling with life. Decorations of white lilies festooned red stone. Silk draped from windows like banners. Perfume emanated from lanterns in an attempt to disguise the stink. Carriages had been pulled and people were escorted inside. When Tyshara arrived she was helped out and could hear music. The scene was truly beautiful, and there was a painful pang as Tyshara thought of how Katrina would have loved it. What Katrina would not have liked was the very clear tension. Something was off and Tyshara felt someone come up behind her. Alarmed, Tyshara spun around to see a large horse, its rider proudly sitting. Unwin Peake bore the crest of his house, imperiously looking down on her. 'Lady Tyshara.' His voice dripped with pomp. 'I am a Lannister you fool.' She thought. Who did this man think he was? Behind him was Myrielle Peake, a little girl with pale feeble features. In her hands was a doll, why he let her Tyshara did not know.

After that frosty reception Tyshara was ushered inside to get ready. Every candidate was expected to present themselves before king Aegon the Third. Bathed, Tyshara was dressed in Lannister finery. Proudly on her wrist glittered the bracelet. Walking though the halls she truly felt like a queen. Unlike last time she was here for a show and dressed as such. During Y/n's trial she had been advised to dress modestly. The double doors were thrown open and a herald bellowed 'Lady Tyshara of House Lannister!' The crowd parted and Tyshara's self importance doubled.

King Aegon shocked Tyshara. She had not seen the king before. Of course she had not expected to see a warrior or a strong handsome man. What she saw was not a boy, less than a ghost. Never had she seen a such a miserable child. His silver locks hanging limply, King Aegon looked forlornly out at her. She knew he was still a boy, but by the Gods he looked far younger than his years! He looked about ready to topple over with a single gust of wind. Tyshara pulled herself together. 'Think of queenship.' She suffered his dark look and curtsied. He gave a nod and then just like that it was over. Relived, Tyshara blended into the crowd. Another name was called and Tyshara knew that had Katrina lived, she would have been next.

The next few days were filled with banquets and dances. She was not obliged to attend the king, thankfully. In fact, Tyshara could have spent the rest of her life without seeing the forlorn boy. Thoughts of queenship abandoned she resolved to enjoy the festivities. Plays bawdier than she had ever before dared to see, costume parties and hunts were carried out. Rings set with emeralds were passed around and Tyshara wore in on her slim finger. But every now and then, no, more often than that, she remembered Katrina. In those moments she paused in her tracks. Before bed she prayed for Katrina's soul, and in those dark hours thought of others. One must unburned themselves before The Seven, otherwise how can they be truly clean? Tyshara had always tried to be good, dutiful daughter and sister. But something nagged at her conscience. They say when a death happens one becomes thoughtful. Unbidden, Y/n came to mind. She had tried to banish the image of that bedraggled sickly looking woman. Before it had been so easy to hate her, the woman who wore her mothers things. Gold and ruby had been replaced by rags. It was harder to hate her.

Tyshara found Cerilla giggling over a letter. Curiously she walked over. 'What is it?' With a grin that sent Tyshara's stomach clenching Cerilla shoved the letter into her hands. 'You will be glad to hear of this I recon.' Jenna's wax stamp still lung to parchment. The woman's small curved writing was hard to read, but Tyshara managed. What she read was not pleasing, not in the slightest. 'Is this not cruel?' Tyshara protested without thinking. Surely, even with who she was, Y/n did not deserve such treatment. A murderer she might be, but something did not feel right and Tyshara could not put her finger on it. Alone in a dark cold cell made her shiver. As a little girl her septa showed pictures of damnation. 'This is where the bad go.' One image that stood out was a cell. It had only one sole occupant, doomed to eternity in solitude.

Cerilla's laughter shook Tyshara. For the first time Tyshara was afraid of this girl. It had been easy to talk with Cerilla and lambast Y/n. She told her all sorts of things. Of how Y/n was with Jaecerion every waking hour. Or perhaps it was that way? Or not? Tyshara could not truly remember. Only that she had said the words. Savage anger had coursed though her. An anger deflating by the day. 'We will not let her die, not yet at least.' Tyshara felt she may be sick. 'Why do you hate her?' Tyshara had always assumed it was because of Y/n's true personality. A scheming evil little whore. But Tyshara was finding the rage Cerilla held quite alarming. Horrifyingly so. Cerilla tossed her head sending red locks cascading down. 'Lady Jenna tells me everything. She is a horrid creature who tried to steal my sisters husband. 'I thought Y/n grew up in King's Landing.' Tyshara knew that Y/n grew up in the Red Keep and Jenna's son in Highgarden. 'My lady's son came to King's Landing on occasion.' Cerilla shrugged as if this was no big deal. She did not seem to realize how truly disturbed Tyshara was.

Tyshara brought the subject up no more. It was not needed as Cerilla could not see, to keep Y/n out of her mouth. There was just something not right about Cerilla's hatred. And the stories she told started to not make sense. She still remembered how Cerilla had prodded for stories about Y/n before the trial, how she herself had spilt out words, suspicions she told a fact. And as Cerilla spun tales of Y/n, and others, Tyshara felt caught in a web.

Owen's nanny had written on his progress. Tyshara was glad to hear he was well. By now Tyshara was torn between returning to Highgarden or Casterly Rock. She missed her little sisters, even the bastard ones. More than ever she missed Katrina and wished to pay her family a visit. Already a letter had been sent yet that felt insufficient. She considered summoning Katrina's younger brother over but decided not to. Soon she would leave.

Tyshara sat in her bed fingering the ruby bracelet. So many times she had seen it on her mothers wrist. Cerilla entered and Tyshara placed it on the table. The silk sheets were soft and the bed heavenly. Despite that she was careful to remain stationary. Cerilla slid in next to her and pulled up the covers. Cerilla seemed quite unbothered, as usual. 'Who do you think the king will marry?' Tyshara shrugged, she had not been keeping track. 'There are a lot of pretty maidens this year.' Cerilla continue. Tyshara did not want to continue the conversation, because Cerilla held the tone of one setting..... something up. Tyshara was too tired and too weary to carry on at the moment. Laying down her blonde head Tyshara tried to fall asleep.

'You knew, they say the king may marry you.' Her eyes flew open. Not turning around, Tyshara's ears were shop. Suddenly it was like sleeping next to a panther. Feeling Cerilla slide closer, the bed dipping, Tyshara suppressed a shudder. How could she ever have liked this girl? 'Lets see, you, Cassandra Baratheon, a few others I recon. Do you wish to marry the king?' This time Tyshara turned around. The question made her feel invaded, and slightly indignant. 'And if I did?' Tyshara rolled over and closed her eyes, praying for sleep.

Tyshara had taken to watching Cerilla's moves. There was just something off about her. There was something else that off put her, apart from Cerilla's malice towards Y/n. Cerilla was watching her too. A tension had grown between the pair of them. Of course Tyshara was not fool enough to voice any of this. By now she was sure going back to Casterly Rock was for the best. First, she would gather Owen. It was about time he come to his seat. Jenna would hopefully be understanding.

Dear Lady Jenna,

I hope this letter finds you well. I would like to thank you for your patronage these past few months. Owen, I am sure, is under the best of care under your supervision, which is why it pains me to say he must leave for Casterly Rock. Your hospital is greatly appreciated and I will always be grateful for your kindness. I will return to Highgarden once I receive permission from Lord Leon Lannister. I pray to The Seven that our friendship shall remain.

Sincerely,

Tyshara Lannister

Thankfully Tyshara did not need to write a letter to Leon Lannister. Her great uncle resided in King's Landing thanks to this ball. After sending the letter out Tyshara headed off to Leon Lannister's rooms. They were situated in the Hand's Tower, although he was not part of the council. Dressed in Lannister finery, bracelet included, Tyshara sought an audience. Looking surprised, Leon met with her. They exchanged pleasantries before getting down to business. 'My brother should take up his seat. Naturally you will remain regent but the west should get to know their lord, should they not.' Leon had a thinning goatee that Tyshara found slightly ridiculous. He stoked the hair while pondering quietly. 'I suppose.' He did not sound totally sure, which made Tyshara nervous. Why should Owen not go back to Casterly Rock? Seeing the look on her face Leon quickly agreed. But Tyshara was warry.

Each morning Tyshara would wake up and write letters. Her sisters wanted to know about the ball , her friends the same and she wrote to Jenna. It was just small things, the comings and goings of the court. Tyshara wrote about her discussion with Leon Lannister, how he had consented to her return. What Tyshara did not enclose was his odd behavior, but Jenna did not have to know that.

'Getting ready to leave so soon?' Cerilla appeared by the door as Tyshara was taking an inventory of all her things. Not looking up from the list Tyshara said 'Yes. Then I will be leaving.' Cerilla raised an eyebrow. 'Some other ladies are leaving. The ones that are not injured or maimed have started packing. They may fear that once chosen to be queen they will be harmed. Tyshara was only half listening, thoughts of her siblings. 'It is a pity your sisters are not here.' Cerilla took a step forward. 'Too young.' Even then Cerilla did not look up. She did not leave, instead hovering like some malignant specter. 'Is there something you would like to tell me?' Tyshara was starting to get impatient, sounding more aggressive than a lady of her standing aught to. 'Do you still wish to marry the king?' And Cerilla was right behind her, breath blowing at the back of Tyshara's slender neck. Tyshara said nothing.

She should have said something, anything to derail Cerilla from her plan. Tyshara might have noticed Cerilla's malice, but not the depths it would go. For the next two days they said little to one another. As her departure time came closer Tyshara looked forward to seeing Owen. One night she was packing away the gifts, dressed for the girls and a little wooden sword for Owen. Once that was done Tyshara washed her face and get ready for bed. A maid came in and laid out the next days clothes. As Tyshara drifted off to sleep she did not notice that the door remained unlocked.

She woke up to rough shaking and shouting. Groggily she stirred awake to find an angry face over hers. A septa was shouting overhead, shaking Tyshara by her shoulders. With a gasp of pain Tyshara was awake. Crying out Tyshara launched herself back in fright. Hitting a body, she turned to see a boy, not much older than herself. Surrounding her bed were three others. Screaming, Tyshara hit the boy. 'Who is this!?' 'Do not play the innocent with us Tyshara Lannister. He was spotted sneaking into your chambers several hours hence.' 'But I am not at fault!. This boy is unknown to me!' Her pleas fell on deaf ears. She was quickly forced to changed and taken to the office of Lord Unwin Peake.

If Unwin Peake scared her before it was nothing to the fear she felt now. A snarl played on his thing worm like lips. In the room with him were two guards, Leon Lannister and, to Tyshara's surprise, Cerilla. 'Lady Tyshara, sit.' Under any other circumstance Tyshara might have reminded this man who she was. But alone and friendless she felt so small. Tentatively she sat down on the chair. 'This very morning you were caught abed with a stable boy. And do not lie we all saw it.' Tears rose in Tyshara's eyes, both from the unfair accusations and distress.' 'I...I swear I have no idea who this boy is I....' She could not continue any longer. 'Lady Cerilla told us you had been having carnal relations with this stableboy since your arrival. Tyshara gave Cerilla a horrified look. Surely she wouldn't have....

'You will be sent back to Casterly Rock immediately. You are a shame to your family and house.' Cerilla was quick to interject. 'My Lord, pardon my interruption but Lady Tyshara resides in Highgarden.' 'Very well. Lady Tyshara you will go to Higharden to collect your brother.' Leon Lannister was the next to speak. 'I see no need for her to go to Highgarden. We can have her things brought to Casterly Rock.' Unwin nodded. ' But My Lords, my brother-' They did not care what she had to say. 'You will go back to Casterly Rock.' Unwin Peake ordered. There was no pity in his eyes, only a sick triumph. Stung by the anger and injustice of it all Tyshara called out 'wait'. They all scrutinized her. 'Let me prove my innocents.'

When Tyshara asked to clear her name she had not imagined this. She was brought into a room where several septas laid her back. When they entered the cold metal all Tyshara felt was pain and humiliation. It was over in a moment and afterwards she was cleaned up and brought before the lords. Humiliation coursed through her veins as she hobbled into the office and needed help sitting down. These cold hard men were staring her down, the little insignificant girl she was. Her hymen was broken, although no one mentioned that a hymen could easily be broken upon a horse. Most noble girls lost their maidenheads to such activities. Cerilla then got up and mentioned that Tyshara was up late into the night. This was the truth but Cerilla was alleging something she knew not to be true. A maid was brought in and probed. The things in the beginning she said were true, that Tyshara stayed up late, that she requested tea and went for nighttime walks. The the story was spun, so that these walks and staying up awake were spent in sin, that the tea was of a certain type. And by the end they all thought her guilty.

She was finally leaving. Despite the disgrace she had endured it was a relief to leave King's Landing behind. There was the double satisfaction of having Unwin Peake's plans being foiled. Despite all the deaths and mutilations to make his daughter queen it was Daenaera Velaryon who would be queen. By new Tyshara was sure he had Katrina killed. Oh how she desired vengeance. But what could a woman of her position do? A Lannister she might be, but still a woman.

Tyshara would be heading right back to Casterly Rock. Her companions sat in stony silence all the way there. If only Katrina were here. It wounded Tyshara how not a single one of them spoke up in her defense. Now they all thought her guilty despite all the years spent together. Counting back the days till she arrived at Casterly Rock Tyshara thought of her siblings. Cerelle would be glad to have her back. Caren had been so little when she last saw her. Briefly her thoughts went to Crissa, her bastard half-sister. She had died the day the Ironborn invaded the Westerlands, along with her mother Lady Redwyne. She had hated her fathers mistress too. But after finding out the woman's grim hate it was hard.

The moment she arrived back at Casterly Rock she fell into Cerelle's arms. They hugged each other and cried. 'I missed you so much.' Tyshara sobbed. 'I too. And I am so sorry.' 'Oh Cerelle, you have nothing to apologize so.' Hugging her tighter, Cerelle said 'Owen-' Tyshara quickly broke apart. 'Owen? What happened?!' The look on Cerelle's face was pure horror.

When Cerelle told Tyshara Owen was dead she could not truly comprehend what she meant. Dead? Owen? And then suddenly she was screaming, a long drawn out wail. Everything was dark and wretched. Somehow she was taken to bed and left there to whither. Every breath was agony. This had to be some horrid nightmare. At some point Tyshara asked if Y/n knew. She probably did.

The days dragged on like she was being hauled over sharp stones. Sinking into the soft covers Tyshara was in purgatory. She thought of a storybook in which a queen was punished and locked up left to whither alone. And there she dwelt within herself until Owen's body arrived. Taking off every piece of finery, including the bracelet, Tyshara now wore black, was draped in it. During his funeral in the sept she was beyond the tears. Statues of The Seven looked down upon Owen's body with care, hers with judgment. Once the funeral was gone and everyone left Tyshara watched as they loaded his body into the stone casket. He would sleep for eternity bellow Casterly Rock, in the great Lion Vault.

Late that night Tyshara headed out alone. She crept through the silent passages, keeping to the darkness. When her own mother passed Tyshara visited the crypt one final time to gaze upon her face. After that she had never done it again. Same with her father. Tyshara wondered if Y/n would lay here when dead. Probably not, likely in the garden in they were kind. The entrance to Lions Vault were two iron carved lions, rubies set into the metal. They let her in without a word. As a Lannister this was her right. There was a long gallery held up by marble pillars. Tapestries worn by centuries depicted the arrival of House Lannister. Some of these tapestries hailed back to a time where the Lannisters were kings, not mere lords. She walked passed the countless carved statues until she arrived at one newly built.

Owne was depicted as a child, his likeness sending a shard of pain through Tyshara's heart. 'I am sorry.' She said. Hopefully he could hear her. Tyshara then fumbled around the edges of his crypt. The Lannisters had a small secret few others knew. But every coffin was built so that the cover could be easily moved. She found and pulled the pulley. With a crunch it slid open to reveal her brother. He looked so tiny, even for his young age. Tyshara reached down and shuddered when she felt his stiff skin. Her thumb crushed his lips and she smeared off skin. Recoiling back Tyshara thought there was dead skin on her hand. But upon closer inspection she realized it was not her brothers remains, but paint. Leaning in Tyshara inspected her brothers face. There was blue on his lips.

Tyshara stumbled back. Not even breathing her heart was bumping furiously. A hand went to her mouth. Taking off the blindfold Tyshara now saw clearly. The world was in colour and now she knew the truth. And it was too late.

'Novice Joan.' Tyshara, now a novice prepared to take her vows, get up. Gone were the jewels and her mothers bracelet. Here she stood in septas garbs. Most thought this was a choice made by Leon Lannister, the new Lord of Casterly Rock. Little did they know this was made of her own volition. A life of penitents. She stood alone in her room, a prison. Behind her were two candles. A silent prayer still lingered, along with two names. Owen Lannister, and Y/n Tyrell.

It was over, she had won. Jenna stood on the balcony overlooking all that was hers. Ever since she was a girl Jenna had dreamed of greatness. So when her father married her to the son of a second son Jenna had been bitterly dissatisfied. She had wanted greater but was forced to settle for him. She remembered when Amelia Tarley arrived shortly after for her wedding. On sight Jenna loathed her. This thin weak looking woman who was to be Lady of Highgarden. She had been overjoyed when Amelia gave birth to only one little girl, Y/n. She attempted to betroth the girl to her newborn son. But it was reflected and Jenna’s hatred grew.

Jenna had been reborn when married. The youngest of three sisters, Jenna had always been in their shadow. Cristina the eldest was beautiful, Justina was clever, and then there was her, just Jenna. So when Jenna was married with a second chance at a family she swore she would be great. ‘One day they will all kneel to me.’

She would not be marrying the Lord of Highgarden or his heir. Some cousin, but close enough to that great seat. At the time she married Owen Tyrell was the heir, a man slightly older than herself. She did not think much of that wife, some Tarley girl named Amelia. Even the girls looks were meager, although she was not ugly. So thin was she Jenna wondered if Amelia even have children. Her own son, strong and healthy, showed Amelia's bareness for all to see. That satisfaction had been oh so sweet.

Of course the Gods were fickle. Shortly afterwards Amelia was with child. Bitterly Jenna had prayed the babe would be born dead, or at least a girl. The latter turned out to be granted and that night Jenna stayed up in anticipation. If Amelia could have one child, even some squalling daughter she named Y/n, there could be others. But they never came and as the years went by Jenna became more hopeful.

Although Lord Owen Tyrell had no more children from that weak simpering fool he had no intention of divorcing her and remarrying. Jenna considered that a good thing. A new pretty wife may very well provide sons. Amelia was not the only one having fertility issues. Jenna herself had not gotten with child since Gerald. She consulted midwives, maesters and even woodswitches but to no avail. Once, she had visited a traveling wise woman with green eyes. When Jenna demanded assistance the woman only laughed. 'You will strangle the vine and spread the seeds. Or perhaps you will be wise.' Her words Jenna did not care to understand. But the bit about 'strangle the vine' always remained. Yes. She should strangle the vine. Nothing else mattered

Jenna’s first husband Gerion had passed from fever and soon after Jenna looked about. For a time Jenna fancied Owen Tyrell might marry her. It never happened. So Jenna simply removed a piece and Owen Tyrell was a widower. Her intention had been to attract him. One night she came upon with great ardor. It was not hard, so wealthy and handsome. But Lord Tyrell had dismissed her with great fury. Jenna was sent away with her son and bitterness as companions.

When she found out Owen Tyrell passed Jenna nearly collapsed with joy. Immediately she raced to Highgarden. It seemed the poison and her allies had done their work. In no time her son was Lord Paramount of Highgarden. It was suggested that her boy marry Owen's little girl. 'You had your chance Owen, my blood alone will rule Highgarden.' That did not mean the girl had no uses. Jenna was quick to utilize this new tool. it was easy to tether the girl to her. And she did her work well. When Y/n was old enough to comprehend the world around her Jenna received news. Because of her birth and good standing with the royal family Jenna learned much. 'Your girl is mine, all mine Owen.' Jenna mused.

Everyone but Viserys saw the upcoming war. As the king slowly crawled towards his grave Jenna planned for the future. Alliances were built and none were so great as those made through marriage. Alicent Hightower wanted the Lannisters. Although already silently pledged to Aegon a marriage was decided. There were no Targaryen princesses and Jenna had no daughters. So she put forward Y/n as a bride for Tyland Lannister, so conveniently in need of a wife. The thought of Owen's daughter being Lady Lannister galled her. Jenna contented herself that Y/n would still be under her control. Whatever name the girl took she was still a mere pawn.

She spent the war in Highgarden, in the safety of its walls. It was much light being a gardener, plotting every location. But by the Gods she was good at it. Y/n was brining daily new of the comings and going of Casterly Rock. One day she had asked Y/n to intercede on her behalf to Jason Lannister. It was so useful to receive assistance from Casterly Rock. Some complained, it was said, that Lady Y/n of Casterly Rock was favouring her Tyrell relations. Resentment was stirred. This had the mixed effect of concern as Jenna did not want the dislike of House Lannister heaped upon her. At least the dislike seemed focused on Y/n rather than herself. And it felt good for Owen Tyrells little spawn to suffer as he should have.

When she got word that Jason Tyrell had passed Jenna seized her chance. She had wanted Y/n, pregnant, brought to Highgarden. This had been counteracted by Prince Regent Aemond having her placed in Harrenhal. Why he placed her there she could not say. Word came that a boy was born. 'Owen Lannister.' She spat. The letter was flung into the fire. Y/n having a boy suited her plans. Her sons wife had given birth to a daughter. The idea of having a granddaughter as Lady of Casterly Rock was tempting. Finally she had been able to have Y/n brought. With the political ground shifting Harrenhal was no longer a safe option. Better news was to come. Leon Lannister, uncle to Jason Lannister, had a son. A confirmed bachelor, many had marveled when he finally settled down. And so another heir to Casterly Rock was born. This opened another possibility. She had only consented to her granddaughter being married to Owen Lannister to gain power. But now the boy was no longer needed as he was. Thanks to Y/n intercepting on her behalf to House Lannister Jenna knew Lord Leon. The pair had met and decided on marrying the tow little ones. But this had all been kept secret. Then it was time to rid herself of Y/n.

Some might have said it was unnecessary. Some could say it was the girls own fault. Y/n had behaved rather foolishly with Prince Aemond, and made enemies. Jenna's spies brought together all those who may provide incriminating evidence. By the time the trial happened all of Y/n's friends were either gone, banished or dead. Jaecerion had been taken care of quickly. She had been rather surprised to find the prince truly did kill Ellyn Baratheon. But it all worked out in the end. Owen Tyrell's daughter was locked up forever. Her time had come and Jenna felt dizzy with excitement. Another case of Winter Fever and swept through Westeros, and the final stone was laid. One cold night she had Owen brought to her. A little less than a year old Jenna observed him. He slept soundly, unaware of what was to come. From a small wooden box under her bed Jenna withdrew a thin vile. Thick blue liquid sloshed around inside. Carefully she uncorked the bottle. A small scent of mint was whiffed. Then, she turned upon Owen. Every step sounded like a trumpet of victory. Her heart pounded victoriously. Extending an arm clothed in green, Jenna poured the poison into Owens mouth. It was all over in but a moment. The babes eyes flew opened. He shook violently and all healthy colour drained. Then his panicked eyes rolled up, lips turned blue, and lay still. For a few moments she looked to the still figure. A thin finger checked, there was no pulse. Then a great gasp of jubilation broke free. And that gasp turned into a laugh. Turning her face to the sky and raced to the window. Throwing open the balcony window she burst into the windy cold night. And her crows of victory were heard only to the wind, and Alys Rivers.

Alys Rivers stood under the three Weirwood trees in Highgardens forest. It was not the forest that interested her but the Weirwood. Right above her, looming like a Spector of death the tree gently swayed. She could see their faces in its wood. One might wonder why she chose to go north, especially during winter time. Especially with a babe. Her son, his silver hair swaying in the breeze, slept peacefully. Aeron was small as his father had been at birth, and just as strong. He would thrive in the north. The other world ruled here as the one who held power dwelled beyond the wall.

But as much as Alys loved this place there was work to do. Aeron would be safe. This would be an ambitious assignment yet it would all be worth it in the end. The dreams that haunted her could not, must not, come to pass. Otherwise an eternal night would reign.

Tucked beneath her clock was a scabbard. It was well concealed in its sheath but it was not the blade which worried her. The Valyrian steele with a hilt imbued with the remains of the First Children, laced with venom, was the threat. She would need to be very careful because the effects were neatly instantaneous. Alys had built up an immunity but would still need caution. It had taken her lifetimes to set everything into place. Carrying on the wind Alys heard a cackle of laughter. Alys turned back to her son. ‘We are almost there.’ And then the battle for Y/n’s soul, and the world, would begin.

Notes: A grim ending for part one. But part two is coming. The epilogue will be out tomorrow, and the teaser at a later date. Book 2 will be out in a few months because I want to write some of it first. I am so excited because it is gonna be crazy!

I begun writing this book back last summer on a whim. Back then I did not know how much this story would mean to me. Writing and all the support I have received has truly provided me with a new experience. Thank you to every last one of you who has read, reposted, liked and discussed the story with me.

Epilogue (Coming tomorrow!)

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yinastra · 9 months ago

Text

✩ A Silent Heartbeat ✩

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

Xiao x gn!adeptus!reader

Summary: Xiao has never noticed the beauty of the world around him─ or of his "partner", either.

TW: Self depreciation, survivors guilt

Cws: Xiao talks down on himself a lot, angsty, hurt/comfort(??), sun and moon trope(if you squint)

Wc: Around 4.3k (I've gone insane)

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Xiao's pants come in heavy as he stares at his surroundings.

This ruin guard factory had been becoming more and more active, something he couldn't allow to continue.

There had been a small girl who was almost harmed under his watch by these very ruin guards. Unforgivable, he thought.

How could he, an adeptus sworn to protect the vast lands of Liyue, allow a small child to feel such fear for her life? Unforgivable.

His face is expressionless as he removes the Yaksha mask, placing it back upon his waist.

His work done, he sets out to retire back to the inn for a while to gather his bearings. Then, he shall set out again on his nightly patrol of Liyue.

He appears where he always does, on the roof of Wangshu Inn. There, he sits. He has not the right mind to admire the way the stars shine, nor the crisp night air on his tongue. Instead, he fixates on the scent of bloodshed still lingering on his person.

He notices footsteps on the balcony of Wangshu Inn coming in rapidly. Looking down, it's..

Them.

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An adeptus of fairly negligible background, they serve as a mere worker at Wangshu Inn. However, not long ago..

they were to be assigned as Xiao's personal healer.

Xiao never took care of himself well. Any wound he received he'd brush off as a "flesh wound", not paying much attention. He was an adeptus, how could he protect Liyue and uphold his promise to Morax if he would allow such 'small' wounds hinder his ability to carry out his duties?

Of course, as an adeptus, naturally, the wounds would heal. However, it was no secret that adepti could still feel pain. Even of 'flesh wounds'.

This was made apparent to Zhongli─ Morax, by them.

In turn, Morax summoned Xiao. Without question, Xiao returned to Morax's side, awaiting orders, when─

"Xiao. I'd like to introduce you to your new partner." His deep voice resounded through the walls.

Xiao looks up from his bowed position, eyes piercing and sharp.

There, stands another adeptus, their person adorned with many medicinal herbs utilized for mortal use.

"Useless," He thinks. Mortal medicine doesn't work on him. He's an adeptus, he's meant to be above these material things. He's meant to protect mortals, not waste supplies they need. It'd be undignified of him.

They introduce themselves. Their name, their occupation. "Herbalist," they said. "Doctor," they said.

Useless.

An herbalist? A doctor? A partner?

How useless.

Xiao had no need for those things. He was simply..

he simply..

No matter. He had no need.

However, Morax was persistent on the topic, and who was he, really, to deny Morax's orders? Nobody. So, Xiao 'accepts' this 'partner' of his, with no intentions to further a relation with them.

It began small. Instead of the chef of Wangshu Inn leaving the food for him, they did it. It began with them simply being the one to deliver the almond tofu, leaving it in the night's solemn embrace for him, to them sitting near the balcony's table, carefully setting down the plate for him in wait.

The weight of Morax's expectations pressed upon him like a leaden cloak, each silent command a heavy burden upon his shoulders.

With a resigned sigh, he begrudgingly accepted their presence, feeling the weight of duty pulling him down. He sat in stoic silence, his jaw clenched tight, unwilling to indulge in conversation but willing enough to endure the oppressive silence that hung between them.

..did not deserve.

At best, he'd spare a few words for them. They did this a while, until he learned..

he was specially reserving parts of his day for them. For that very moment.

And then..

He'd reserve for them parts of him. For that very moment.

For that very moment they meet under the moon's gentle glow, as friends, as colleagues, as..

Partners.

It used to be a chore to speak even a few words to them, to even sit at the same table as them. Yet, now..

He craved it.

He wanted them to listen. He wanted them to hear what he had gone through.

Maybe..

Maybe they'd accept him.

What a foolish thought. Incredibly irresponsible─ how could he disregard the fact that his karmic debt would still chip away at their very being, their soul.

So he strays away from them. He sits on the roof longer, peering down at them.

He observes how they deflate when he's late. When he doesn't show up at all.

How their eyes fall down, as they fidget with an accessory on their person, and as they huff to see their breath in the cool night air.

He can't help himself from feeling..

incomplete.

Without their presence, without their listening ear, without their calming voice, without their soft chiding and scolds, he's..

missing something.

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He looks down as they sit there, still waiting for him. As the moon reaches its peak, he realizes they won't leave.

He could just take the almond tofu and leave, right?

He couldn't have anticipated this.

His arrival is immediately met with their warm embrace. He was surprised, startled even.

Dealing with the vicious beasts of Teyvat was usual for him. Not even the most abominable creatures and monsters could make him cower anymore.

And yet..

These mortal feelings, this mortal warmth..

It shook him to his core.

Quickly, they pull away, apologizing for the sudden intrusion of his 'personal space'.

This.. was not a feeling familiar to him.

They apologize profusely, placing the almond tofu on the table and leaving quickly.

He sits down by himself, bringing the almond tofu to his mouth.

Tonight..

The stars seemed to shine brighter.

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The next night he returns with a gaping gash on his arm. He hadn't slept in days, causing his guard to falter for a moment too long.

He grits his teeth as the pain meshes into the strings of karmic debt, pulling and pushing at him constantly.

Without thinking, he jumps down to the balcony.

They seem startled, but the surprise is met with worry as they see the large gash on his arm. Immediately, they stand up, assessing the wound.

Without hesitation, they take his other arm and throw it around their shoulder, holding him up with their own arm.

They lead him to his room, setting him down carefully onto the bed.

"What did I say about sleeping? Even adepti must rest," They chide, carefully wetting a towel and dabbing the spot, causing him to hiss.

"I have to need for mortal activities. I live only to kill, and to kill alone. Sleep is unnecessary." He speaks out gruffly, looking the other way, towards the window.

"This wound speaks otherwise. How are you to protect Liyue if you can't even protect yourself? I require you to rest for at least 3 days before you return to duty." They say, running a hand along the wound.

The wound closes up partially, courtesy of their healing abilities. They open up their medicine bag, pulling out some herbs he's never seen before.

"Mortal medicine won't─"

"This isn't mortal medicine," They interrupt him before he can finish speaking, some of the leaves in their mouth as they place some others in the mortar and pestle to crush into a fine powder.

After a few moments, they add in an herbal base, mixing the two together. They lightly apply the cool paste to his wounded skin. He grits his teeth at the sudden sensation.

"This is adepti medicine. I have specially cultivated it myself. It should help with the pain." They explain, seeming unphased as they crush up another bundle of leaves.

"This.. this will induce a restful sleep. I require you take this every night before the moon reaches its peak." They clarify, holding out the paste that has been mixed into a tea-like base.

He opens his mouth to protest stubbornly, to again, state how he, an adeptus, could not leave his position for such 'useless' rest. However, he, again, is silenced by them. This time..

by their unfaltering gaze.

Eyes swelled with worry, no doubt had he never seen such emotion within an expression, just..

just for him.

He quiets, accepting the treatment.

"...and adepti must eat. Before I send you off to rest, I shall bring you your almond tofu. Don't move too much, that wound isn't completely healed yet." They say, leaving the room, leaving him with his thoughts.

The wind howled outside, a symphony of nature's fury as it swept through the trees, rattling their branches and sending leaves swirling in a chaotic dance.

He looks until he sees his reflection in the window, faintly.

He's pathetic, he thinks. Requiring help as the sworn protector of Liyue, he.. he..

He really didn't deserve this.

How could he have survived? All the other Yaksha..

Why was he the only one left?

Xiao's gaze drifted to the ground, his fists clenched at his sides. Memories of battles lost and comrades fallen flashed through his mind like shards of glass. He wasn't the strongest Yaksha, that much was clear.

Each defeat weighed heavily on his shoulders, a constant reminder of his inadequacy. The thought gnawed at him like a festering wound, twisting his insides with self-doubt. As he looked up at the star-filled sky, he couldn't help but wonder: how could anyone love a warrior who had failed so many times?

He shouldn't have survived. He shouldn't have lived to see this day. And he really shouldn't allow himself the luxury to even.. enjoy these days.

He did not deserve this more than the other Yaksha did. He did not deserve peaceful days, he did not deserve compassion, he did not deserve love and care like the other Yaksha did.

The other Yaksha would have surely treated them better.

Unlike him, who treats them with unwavering frigidity.

Unlike him, who acts indifferent to their acts of service.

Unlike him, who craves their voice, their touch, but will never speak of it.

Unlike him, who is unworthy.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

Footsteps are unheard throughout the halls. He can sense them as they make their way back to his room, a plate of almond tofu in hand.

This was not the plate on the balcony before. This was a new plate, plated differently and made differently from that of the usual; this was not made by the hands of the chef of Wangshu Inn.

"I've decided that the almond tofu on the balcony wasn't tasteful anymore. Here. I've made it myself. I apologize for any mistakes made, the chef wasn't present at this time." They speak quietly, sitting near his bedside and passing him the plate as he sits up.

With his good arm, he raises the mortal utensil to take a bite of it.

It tastes..

It tastes just like a sweet dream.

"..please take the medicine on the bedside. It will help you sleep. If you require anything of assistance, I will be in the room over. Please call my name." They stand up, gathering their things, before a hand clutches their wrist.

He wants to ask for them to stay, just for a while longer, he wants to tell them all of these complicated human emotions, but he quiets these thoughts.

"Thank.. you." He manages to mutter, before quickly releasing them.

They give him a small nod and leave.

That night, he takes the sleeping medicine.

The dreams it induces are..

sweet.

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The next morning, he awakes to the sound of the morning birds singing, the sun filtering through the shades of his room.

Sitting up, he feels his head pound. No more than a side effect of the medicine, he assures himself.

Waking up this way was.. new.

It felt so.. tranquil here.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of the herbalist walking into his room. They sit down near his bedside once more, holding the back of their hand to his forehead to check for temperature.

"Good morning, Xiao. How do you feel?" They ask, rummaging through their bag for something.

"..Fine." He replies curtly, unwilling to elaborate.

"Alright then. I suggest you stay in bed for today. Tomorrow, you should be set to start moving again, but still no combat or sharp movements, you hear me?"

"..This is unnecessary."

"Do you hear me, Xiao?" They reiterate again sternly.

He paused, knowing they wouldn't let up until he agreed.

"..yes." He murmurs begrudgingly.

"Perfect. I'll have Smiley Yanxiao prepare your─"

"Can you.. please.. do it.." He manages to rasp, his voice caught in his throat at the prospect. What was he doing? Why would he say that? They were already taking such good care of him.. something he truly didn't deserve. So why.. why was he asking for more? Why did he crave more?

They pause.

Were they going to deny his request? To have his request, spoken so brazenly be denied was to be expected, he thought. He said to himself, "Why would they ever do this for me again? They'd be better off with nothing to do with me."

"..Of course." They reply.

"Stay here. It'll only be a moment. And remember; no sharp movements." They remind, leaving the room, and leaving Xiao breathless in the process.

Breathless from the sheer effort it took to mutter that request.

Breathless from their reply.

And breathless from them.

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The moments pass as Xiao stares down at his lap. Xiao: bedridden, helpless, at the mercy of another adeptus.

The other Yaksha would never humor this idea of him. After all, he was always so cold and brooding, who would ever think of him sitting in bed, with only his thoughts to accompany him? And with..

A companion, to boot.

This time, he doesn't sense their presence before they walk through the door.

He let his guard down again. And he wasn't even tired.

How foolish of him. What if it had been some kind of creature? He couldn't begin letting his guard down like this. This would be detrimental to his role as protector of Liyue. How could he be so weak? How could he be so foolish?

But it wasn't. It was them.

"Xiao?" Their voice snaps him out of his thought.

"Here you are. Please take this time to rest. Liyue needs its protector, but no living being is simply a machine. Liyue needs its protector to be in his best condition, alright?" They say, folding some of the towels by his bed.

"..right." He mutters, mouth full of almond tofu.

"I'll be off today. I must tend to my fields." They stand up from their sitting position.

"Just call my name if you ever need me, and I will be there." They say, as their footsteps trail out of the room, their presence disappearing soon.

That day, he takes his time looking out at the world. The sun had begun to set, the air beginning to change into the sharp night he was all too familiar with.

He never noticed the beautiful oranges, yellows, and pinks before. When the sun sets, it paints such a beautiful picture. Much unlike the sight of bloodshed he usually observed. The blood staining his clothing, the blood staining the ground around him.

He took the medicine on his bedside, slowly drifting off to sleep as the sun followed suit.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The next time he awoke, they were already there with a plate of almond tofu for him, made fresh. His arm certainly felt better, he noticed.

The sun seemed brighter than he'd ever noticed, the trees lush and the flowers seemed to prosper under its watchful gaze.

He sits up in bed, hands in his lap.

"May I touch your arm?" They ask.

He's surprised. Nobody has ever asked him before. They might have noticed how his demeanor changed with physical contact. They..

worried about his comfort?

..Inconceivable.

He slowly nods, holding out his arm. It surely felt better than it did the day before, but it still slightly hurt to hold out.

They trace two fingers over his wound, helping the scarring swell down. After, they apply the cooling paste once more.

"It looks like you'll be alright," They begin.

"You'll be able to get out of bed today. Just no fighting. And no sharp movements, as the wound could still open." They conclude, standing up to leave after their assessment of the situation. They must be going back to tend to their fields, something Xiao had no experience in. He doubted he could be helpful, and him, a merciless killer, tending to delicate plants and herbs? He could never. But still..

"May I.. come with you?" He chokes out. "To.. to your fields." He clarifies.

A slight expression of surprise surfaces on their face as they think for a moment. They seemed perplexed.

"I.. I understand if─"

"..You can come." They nod. "I don't mind some extra help. And it's good to get some fresh air."

"You mean.. I can.. come?" He asks, mouth running dry.

"Of course. Would you be ready to come now? I can wait a few moments."

"Y.. yes. I can come now." He quickly says, sounding more.. eager than he meant to.

"Great. Would you like a change of clothing? I'll have your current clothes washed."

"A change of clothing? I don't own any other articles of clothing."

"..ah. I see. Not to worry, I'm sure there are some basic articles of clothing in here." They say, walking over to the dressers and rummaging through them. Not a few moments later do they return with some basic clothing─ a brown shirt that clasps in the middle and pants that are tapered at the bottom.

"I assume you don't need help with dressing?" They ask, cocking an eyebrow.

"No. I have not lost my ability to dress." He speaks, looking away.

"Good, good. I'll be outside of your room should you require any assistance. Feel free to come out once you're ready." They say, leaving the room and shutting the door.

Once dressed, Xiao takes in the feeling of the common clothing.

He's never been in this clothing before. It felt.. different. The cloth felt strange on his body. This.. was mortal clothing. He should never be seen wearing mortal clothing. It was unbecoming of someone of his status.

Walking out of the room, he catches a glimpse of them in the kitchen, helping Smiley Yanxiao with the influx of orders. Their moves are quick, nimble, and he finds that they are skilled in cooking. Their hands are delicate, most likely due to the skill required to pluck plants and herbs from the ground without damaging them.

They look up and see Xiao. Smiling at Smiley Yanxiao, they wave a goodbye to him and walk over to Xiao.

The pair set off not a moment later.

Walking on the stone path, a silence covers the two. The hot sun was at its peak, leading the herbalist to pull up their sleeves.

Soon after, they arrive at the plot of land. As far as Xiao's eye can see, the fields are filled with various different types of herbs. They harvest this.. all by themselves?

"If you'd like to help, go and grab a few of the baskets. We'll begin with 3, and then we can get more if needed." They instruct, leaving him to find the baskets.

Doing mortal chores in mortal clothing, how idiotic of him to partake in such activities, he thought to himself as he moved through the fields, trying his best not to trample any of the plants.

As he makes his way back, he finds they they've already plucked many herbs from the ground. They must be used to this by now.

He leans downward, trying his best to pluck the herbal leaves. He's confused when the leaf crumbles in his grasp. Perhaps this was just a testament to his murderous nature, unable to appreciate beauty and preserve it. Perhaps he really was only meant for murder, killing, and war. Perhaps─

His thoughts are interrupted as they seem to notice his struggle, crouching down next to him. Beckoning him to look and observe, their hands gently pluck the leaves without haste. This leaves it pristine, looking as if it had been untouched.

His breath hitches. He could never do that. His work was based on haste and power. He could only ever destroy beauty, this was a fact he knew rang true. But as they took his hand, gently ran his coarse fingers across the leaves, and plucked it with such care, he wondered..

..was he capable of being.. gentle?

He discarded the thought.

As he worked alongside them in the fields, a sense of tranquility settled over him, the burden of his duties momentarily lifted by the simple act of tending to the earth.

The torturous strings of his karmic debt still tore at him, body and soul, even if he should have been at peace.

Who was he angry at?

That night, he lies in bed, staring out at the window to catch a glimpse of the moons glow. He never noticed how bright it shone, even if the sun proved brighter.

The moonlight beamed down, coating the world in a fluorescent white. The world stands still, the world stagnating into a cold blue as the night ran its course.

He closed his eyes.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The next time he opened his eyes, the dawn was still young. Looking out to the window, he took note of the warm sun that blanketed the landscape, protecting all in its light.

The reflection of himself in the glass of the window was more apparent, almost like the stained glass in an art piece.

The door creaks open, revealing them in their usual form.

As per usual, they come in and inspect his wound, checking for any changes.

"It should be almost fully healed by now. I do advise you take it easy for today, however, you're ready to get back on 'duty' tomorrow." They nod, staying in their sitting position.

They mutter something to themselves before turning to the bedside table, handing Xiao a plate of almond tofu.

Xiao silently takes the plate, bringing the spoon to his mouth for a mouthful.

Within their presence, he realizes, time.. felt endless.

The days that have passed were simple days, filled with menial, useless tasks.

So why did he feel..

So fulfilled?

The other Yaksha wanted to become as the mortals did once the archon war ended.

They all wanted to live what he was living now.

He, at that time, had no interest in the mortal lifestyle, even after the war.

..did he?

But even so, he had no business feeling fulfillment of any kind.

He who was worthless.

He who was unworthy.

Yet, that day, he stayed in bed without protest.

He sat idly instead of stubbornly requesting release.

And he spoke with them.

A long while.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

By the end of it, the wounds imbedded into his psyche were very evident.

They paused, pursing their lips a moment, before responding.

"...I apologize. My expertise.. is in the body, the flesh. I have no resources to heal the wounds of the mind."

"..Perhaps.. you are capable of much more than you believe." He replies, not quite understanding what his own words meant.

That night, as they left his room, he came to a conclusion.

The one he was angry at had always been himself.

Angry for surviving.

Angry for being so powerless.

Angry, for everything.

And yet, with the presence of his 'partner', he noticed the way the grass would bend to the breeze, as the tides would rise and fall with the moon.

He noticed the will of the mountains, unwavering and steeled.

He noticed the blooming of the flowers, resilient in their passage.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The sun rises to light the path and protect, even if he doesn't realize it.

The moon rises to set the path for rest, its cold tones readying the world for the suns warmth.

The sun burns so bright to give hope and strength, but even the sun must rest, lest the sun burn itself to the core, unable to shine once more.

The moon may not shine as bright, but even so, it will always serve as a light in the dark, a symbol of rest.

The sun doesn't realize his capacity for warmth and love.

As the sun guides all others, the moon will slowly guide the sun unto the path of peace.

Where, on that pier,

he may finally look onto his reflection,

and accept who he is.

#genshin xiao #xiao x reader #xiao genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin x reader #x reader #x gn reader #angsty #yinastra #slight angst #comfort #sun and moon trope(?)#genshin #xiao #hurt/comfort #genshin impact x reader

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