#He keeps disappearing off into the sidelines | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sseastar · 3 months

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✶ meet me at the net ; riize.

info. riize ot7 + reader. fluff. platonic mostly but can be interpreted as more. description. riize as the volleyball team you’re the team manager for. word count. 2.7k warnings. volleyball-sustained bruises (sohee be careful pls). listen to. orange by spyair.

as always, please leave feedback and reblog with feedback and tags as it’s the most important thing when it comes to motivating writers on here! without feedback, i have less motivation to keep writing so pls pls pls do not just like and empty reblog! it gets very draining and unmotivating to see when that happens!

쇼타로 、OSAKI SHOTARO !

position: setter, team captain.

the surprisingly powerful setter that many people usually look over. because of his pure personality, not many fear shotaro, an insanely quick witted player who seems to know the opponent’s weakness even at the last second. hits when people expect him to set someone up, dinks when people expect him to spike, because of this is such a powerful asset to their team. always does the unexpected even when players are already aware of his playing style and yet always has something up his sleeve. his bubbly personality disappears as soon as he steps onto the court. but he doesn’t turn into a huge, tall, intimidating opponent. instead, he’s quiet and swift and quick and somehow that’s even more terrifying to play against. despite being calm and stable on the court, when he’s on the sidelines with the others, he’s hyping everyone up with loud cheers - that’s when his bright personality shows and the opposing team is always so confused - especially since they’ve only ever seen him in the zone.

shotaro dotes on his teammates, always making sure they’re eating enough between matches and drinking enough water. “no wonbin, you cannot survive off of gatorade chews the whole day.” dotes on you as well, making sure you have enough space to sit on the bench if he ever gets subbed out and pushes the ball cart so you don’t have to when you move courts for a new match. will always find you between matches to help set up everyone’s lunches and folding chairs and helps you calm down the others if they’re being too rowdy and chaotic and just overall tries to make your job as the team manager easier. loves to braid your hair to calm himself down between matches, and asks if you can hold the earrings he always forgets he can’t wear during games.

은석 、SONG EUNSEOK !

position: opposite hitter

the most underrated hitter on the team just because of his position. because many focus on outside hitters, his skills are sometimes overlooked. yet when eunseok gets the chance to showcase them, he leaves everyone absolutely speechless with how well he is able to execute the quick back-sets shotaro sends him. sometimes, people don’t understand where he came from, seemingly popping out of nowhere on the court. people are further shocked at how good he is at line shots and cross shots, underestimating his quick thinking, especially with his high vertical that allows him the easily see the open gaps in their opponents’ set up. eunseok is quick on his feet, and never hesitates to dive to save the ball that nears the floor. has no problem with jousting up at the net and is always amazing at getting the ball out of it. he’s known for his powerful topspin jump serve as well, one that he’s definitely received aces for. he’s a quiet player, often only shouting when needed and quietly celebrating in the center while his teammates are the ones shouting. is not easily affected by intimidating players on the other team.

eunseok takes care of the team quietly. you’ve noticed that he’s the one picking up items that the others might forget, or quietly placing water bottles he had refilled back near the bench. he drapes towels on the others’ necks without a word, and yet he masks his caring ways under his quick retorts and unbothered personality. not that anyone never noticed - you along with everyone on the team knows of his considerate, caring nature. sure, he loves to tease you between or even during matches as he sees how much more stressed you are than the actual players and their coach, but that doesn’t nullify all his small acts of service for everyone. eunseok is often found standing at your side between matches, usually because he finds your presence calming before a big game. sometimes, you wake up with his warm up jacket covering you on the drive to the tournament venue in the early morning. seemingly the one to always let you borrow something of his and will have a knowing smug look on his face when he overhears someone compliment you for it, only to say “yeah, i agree,” without disclosing the fact that it’s his.

성찬 、JUNG SUNGCHAN !

position: middle blocker

with his height, sungchan was easily positioned as the middle blocker that would switch out for sohee, their libero. however, it is not only his height that catches people’s attention, nor his extremely handsome face that has onlookers' heads turning. sungchan is smart, and can easily read the opposing team’s next moves. hits rarely get past him, and when they do, he makes sure that instead of allowing the ball to drop straight through his hands to the floor, he makes sure to angle himself in a position that gives the defensive specialists a perfect angle to bump the ball back up. he knows how to turn a hard hit into an opportunity for their team. sungchan is a wall when it comes to blocking, and his height only adds to his wit and thinking as he plays in the front row. not only is sungchan and extremely powerfully blocker, but his long history of playing with shotaro allows him to hit the most unstoppable spikes. no one ever seems to know what these two have planned up their sleeve, not even their own team. but it always works.

sungchan is a ball of energy. he reminds you of a big puppy with the way he’s always hyping the team up, making sure to reassure them when the team happens to be stuck in a rut. he’s probably one of the loudest on the court. he refuses to let the others think badly about their plays, shutting down any possible thoughts of blaming themselves for losing a set or game. his bright energy catches everyone’s attention, and many people seem to fall for him. but sungchan sticks to your side between matches, making sure you always have everything you need and are eating enough while you make sure the team eats enough because “you need to take care of yourself too.” he always tries to gives up his seat for others, especially you, but you insist that he has to rest for their next match. insists on helping you make sure the air pressure in each ball at practice is full just because he likes to spend time with you. before each hit during warm-ups at matches, he turns and points to you, only to laugh when you shake your head after he shouts, “this is for you!” then proceeds to completely miss the quick set shotaro had sent him.

원빈 、PARK WONBIN !

position: defensive specialist, setter

he’s quiet. that’s for sure, though he always seems to get the job done and more. wonbin is a reliable silent threat, and not many people pay attention to him especially since he’s in the back row acting as one of the defensive specialists. he doesn’t mind that his role is underrated because it doesn’t matter to him. he knows how important his role is in the back row, backing up sohee (his fellow defensive player) to dig whatever spike comes at him. he’s especially good with overhead passes and can even act as a setter if shotaro happens to get the first touch. he may be silent, but when wonbin is playing, the ball never touches the ground. he’s quick on his feet and always seems to play scrappy - pulling out tricks that no one seems to even think about. he can hit back row spikes, for sure, but he prefers not to. one thing that makes people fear him are his floater serves. although his aren’t flashy jump serves, his floaters always seem to change direction in the most unrealistic way, swerving past the players on the other side of the net.

wonbin is very similar to haikyuu’s kenma, often not taking care of himself. he seems to take care of the team before himself, even if he’s about to collapse from exhaustion from back to back matches. that’s where you (and shotaro) come in, doting on him to make sure he eats. he’ll only refuse the first few times, so you shove a plate of food into his hands and sit down in front of him to make sure he eats. he’s shy as well, preferring to stick to you to hover his face over your shoulder as his teammates socialize with other teams. however wonbin has another side to him that only the team knows, one where he gets really crazy during practice and ends up busting out the most out of pocket sentences that have the whole team cracking up. it’s one of your favorite moments when wonbin seems to cut tension after losing a match, or mentioning something everyone noticed about something they saw during the day but never brought up because they were too embarrassed to. it has everyone laughing comfortably hysterically, because of course wonbin, the reserved one, is the one to bring it up unexpectedly.

승한 、HONG SEUNGHAN !

position: defensive specialist, opposite hitter, setter

the bright, positive player who seems to bring energy to a match on both sides of the court. he’s always talking despite his introverted personality, and he views it one of his strengths despite being an analytical defensive player on the court. he loves hitting back row, and kind of hates that he rarely gets to do it, but loves to fulfill any role that the team needs. seunghan has exceptional ball control, seemingly able to pass any serve that comes at him regardless of the skill level. he angles it so perfectly to shotaro, allowing the rest of the team to execute a perfectly-set up attack, and that alone has him satisfied. at first, he didn’t think he had an important role, but you had made him realize that defense is just as important if not more, than offense. seunghan can read dinks versus spikes very well, and his agility allows him to get to the ball quick, making him a valuable asset to the back row. seunghan also always encourages his teammates whether they earned a point or made a mistake, never allowing them to even think about blaming themselves.

the most excited, seunghan is the mood maker of the team. he’s the one to bring the most energy to matches, always extremely hyped up and bringing a portable speaker everywhere. seunghan loves to joke around and keeps up with a lot of the trends, being the one to convince you to create a team social media account. he practically runs it with the way he always seems to steal your phone to film the others and themselves between matches, goofing off and having fun. he’s the one to suggest filming one of those videos where the team crowds around the front camera from above, throwing balls, shoes, knee pads, whatever above their head and seeing who gets hit. he can get bummed out if he doesn’t do well, and at these times he finds you, clinging to you during lunch. you’ll be sitting on a bench with your plate out, and he’ll just be at your legs with his head in your lap or leaning against your knees. this is when his introverted personality shines through, and the team does everything to get their mood maker back to his best. after all, it’s what seunghan always does for them.

소희 、LEE SOHEE !

position: libero

even the slight angle of a setter’s wrist allows him to know who the setter is setting to, and sohee quickly adjusts himself to where that hitter had hit last. his brain is almost a computer with how much information he remembers: where the hitters tend to send their ball, how each player serves, which player on the other team seems to have a weakness they can use to their advantage. if sohee has a suggestion in a play, the others immediately follow because it always works. because of his cute aura and the reduced spotlight on back row players, no one expects him to be the mastermind behind the intense plays of the team. and that’s what makes it work. sohee is a secret weapon, because not only is he extremely meticulous, but he is not afraid to get on the floor to dig a hit. he refuses to let a ball drop without even trying for it, and if it does, punishes himself by diving post-play because he should’ve done it to get the ball in the first place. nevertheless, it’s rare for that to happen because sohee reads hitters and setters perfectly. sohee will not hesitate to run across the court to send the ball back over the net on the last touch if he needs to, and you can’t even count the amount of times you’d had to help him ice his shins after crashing into the bleachers to save a ball.

sohee is the team’s charger. everyone clings to him because just being around him is healing. and although he might not be used to the affection and all the skinship, he wills himself to get used to it because he knows how much it helps the team. he happily helps you with your managing duties, especially when you try to find recordings of the teams they’ll be playing against, helping you and their coach analyze it and relaying the information to shotaro. sometimes follows you like a duckling, both at tournaments or at practice, and is one to initiate dodgeball games with the volleyball at the end of practice, usually by throwing a ball in the air which “accidentally” hits anton while he sips on some water. always helps you set up the net for training too, making sure you don’t drop the heavy poles or fall from the post where the referees usually stand.

앤톤 、LEE CHANYOUNG !

position: outside hitter

if anything, he and sungchan are the most feared on the team, primarily due to their large stature. despite his soft spoken nature, anton is one of the physically strongest players on the team, having the hardest hits to pass. that makes him so qualified for being an outside hitter because his spikes often push past the blocks of the other team. he’s still a little new to jousting up at the top of the net, but sungchan’s been teaching him well - how to not feel bad for pushing against the opponents’ hands and how to make sure to be ready for the ball to drop back onto their side. anton was a newcomer to the team but advanced quickly, earning such an important offensive position early into his athletic career. he’s also a quiet player and had trouble calling for the ball at first, but as soon as he experienced the satisfaction of hitting such a perfectly executed spike that even sohee couldn’t pass during practice, he stopped hesitating to call shotaro to set him up. he’s still learning but he learns fast, much to the dismay of opposing teams, especially with his strong jump serve.

as the youngest, the team looks to dote on anton a lot. despite being used to being an older brother, he allows the team to cling to him as long as he can to you. he tries his best not to get in the way and just wants to make sure everything runs smoothly, refusing to let any disputes linger between the team by gently speaking up to try to clear the air. it’s rare that he has to do that, but the team usually calms down once they realize that anton’s the one who’s confronting the issue. anton is another to cling to you when socializing with other teams, though if he gets comfortable enough with the other players he’ll leave you with wonbin at your side. he also follows you around like a duckling, always asking if there’s anything he can do to help with your managing duties and always offering to help you set up for practice.

⌕. author’s note ; currently inspired by my long-lasting haikyuu hyperfixation and my disappointment when i found out they’re squeezing the rest of the manga into a movie instead of more seasons. this is coming from my experience playing volleyball for a good number of years (although keep in mind it’s been while!)

ꗃ. taglist ; @enhacolor @soobin-chois @koishua @chrysbibi

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Note

Do you still do alice in borderland requests? If so, then could I request yandere chishiya headcanons? Thanks!!

Yandere Chishiya Headcanons

Warnings: Unhealthy Behaviour, Yandere Behaviour, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Descriptions of Violence and Death, Death, Minor Spoilers for Chishiya's Past, No Pronouns used for Reader except for 'You', etc.

This man acts, looks and feels like a cat; and by that, I mean he's sly, slick, and has little regard for anyone who doesn't benefit him.

All except for you, it would seem.

You were just another person who fell into the Beach's jurisdiction, plucked from the Borderlands and dropped into a thin veneer of humanity.

As expected, you grew to fear the Militants, the games, but you'd found yourself more or less adopted by a loose group of players who just wanted the same as you; to go home.

Chishiya was in the periphery of this group, existing only around the edges, never a centrepiece.

That, was, until he started to take notice of you.

It was harmless curiosity at first; a desire to know exactly who his associates were affiliating with.

After all, you weren't entirely forthcoming with details about yourself, often shifting the conversation to anything else when it included your personal life.

You didn't even have a name, having kept that private, too.

For all anyone was concerned, you could've been a myth - a mystery - with how elusive you were.

Not to mention your penchant for disappearing whenever someone turned their back on you for more than a second.

Unbeknownst to them, you just wanted to be alone, and by keeping information about yourself scarce, you reduced the risk of them becoming attached to you, and vice versa. Isolating yourself in your room seemed to help, too.

Chishiya watched you.

Whenever you were nearby, he had an eye on you, either his own or Kuina's, and would commit your every quirk and habit to memory, trying to find a weak point.

Or, that was what he told himself.

Over time, as he came to see how proficient you were in the games, he saw you as a valuable asset.

During games, he'd scan the area for you whenever he had a spare moment, and his mind wandered to your potential whereabouts - your condition - whenever you weren't in sight.

During one of these games, he couldn't seem to find you anywhere.

Soon enough, he found himself asking Kuina if she'd seen you.

"No," she told him, standing to her full height, the body next to her stripped of supplies. "Why? Something wrong?"

A scream rang out, and Chishiya's ears pricked, attention snapping to the source.

You bolted across the apartment complex on the floor below, pursued by someone - more so something - twice your size, wielding a sword.

Chishiya acted on pure adrenaline and instinct.

He vaguely heard Kuina call his name as he swung over the bannister, jumping onto the floor below and following you.

The behemoth tailed close behind, swinging his sword whenever he thought he could catch either you or Chishiya.

The sound of two sets of footsteps pursuing you forced you to push harder, run faster, eventually causing you to veer off into a room you thought would be safe.

It was little more than a dead end.

Spinning on your heel, you turned to leave the way you came, but you knew it was a futile attempt.

Two men ran in after you, one which you recognised form the Beach, the other a monster.

The smaller of the two grabbed you, pulling you aside as the giant swung his sword down upon you, almost severing you on the spot.

Weighed down with his own strength and withdrawing the sword, Chishiya took his chance.

He slipped a knife from the inside of his jacket and, before the man in the mask could begin to defend himself, plunged it into his ribs.

He didn't stop; he just kept tearing the knife into his middle, crippling him each time.

And you watched from the sidelines, curled up in the corner.

You slid to the ground and curled up.

The ordeal was over quicker than you'd expect.

Chishiya panted and looked over to you.

Seeing you shivering in the corner, he approached, keeping the knife out of your sight (and reach), offering his hand to you.

You took it, gingerly, and pulled yourself up.

With his hand still in yours, the silence of the room ringing in your ears, your body acted of its own accord.

You pulled him to you and pressed yourself into his chest.

Tears welled in your eyes and soaked into Chishiya's jacket.

He...didn't know what to do.

Initially he thought you were attacking him, ready to gut him with a concealed weapon.

But, the longer you remained tucked into his chest, sniffles becoming sobs, that possibility diminished.

His body knew what to do - what the human answer to your actions was - but his mind couldn't follow through.

And yet, the former won.

Slowly, cautiously, his arms found your middle and held you, not firm enough to keep you there, but tight enough that Chishiya could feel your fear.

It was in that second that, feeling you pressed tightly against him, he realised what human warmth felt like.

In all his years of training to be a doctor, he'd heard of this phenomenon (a phenomenon to him, a commonality for everyone else) yet had never experienced it.

He dared to look down at you as he cradled your shaking body in his arms.

Something washed over him. A feeling - a primal urge.

He couldn't place his finger on it, but he knew it was caused by you, by your cowering.

And yet, it was not a desire to see you suffer, nor to push you away. So what was it?

Kuina came running, speeding round the corner. Her eyes fell upon you and Chishiya before drifting over to the body.

She seemed more interested in what the two of you were doing, though Chishiya tried to discourage her with a dark glint in his eye.

Whatever she was going to say died in her throat, and she looked away, pretending never to have seen Chishiya in such a vulnerable position.

He looked down at you once more.

He knew you couldn't stay like this for long, even if he wanted to.

"What's your name?" he said, keeping his voice monotone as he fought to escape the haze you'd cast over him.

You sniffed, seemed to consider his question, then looked to him with wide, glassy eyes.

His heart jumped.

"(Y/N)."

After that, Chishiya became your unofficial protector of sorts.

Your "Guardian," as he referred to himself to Kuina.

He'd told her it was purely to gain your trust, to make you rely on him so that, when the time came, he could sacrifice you.

And yet, every time he tried thinking of ways he could use you, the memory of you flush against him, eyes red and cheeks sodden with tears, flashed in his mind.

Your warmth would encompass him - for a few seconds, no more - and he would be overcome with that feeling again.

He would never dare to confide in Kuina, nor himself about it.

He'd tried shoving that feeling down, putting it out of his mind.

Yet it always returned. And one night, it hit him.

The answer to his hypotheses.

He sat bolt upright in bed, looking dead ahead, as if he could see through the walls and saw you sleeping in your room.

It was protectiveness.

That feeling - that need - was the urge to protect you, to keep you out of harm's way.

From that moment on, you became the object of his obsession.

He understood that you were now his weakness, and so to protect himself, he needed to protect you.

He watches you as he did before he knew you.

Diverted your path when necessary - whenever Niragi was nearby, he'd steer you down another corridor under the pretense of needing to "Discuss the next game with you."

During these conversations, he'd learn a little more about you, though you remained guarded.

He wanted to be offended at your lack of willing, but he understood you too well to begrudge your way of thinking.

The two of you were quite similar in that regard.

You were an oyster of sorts; a shell on the outside, yet possessing a treasure within.

Chishiya would try pushing you a little more, trying to discern your interests, your hopes, your dreams, your life before the Borderlands.

Soon enough, Chishiya was not satisfied by your mere hallway meetings, instead requesting to meet you in private under the guise of keeping your conversations quiet, for there were "Eyes everywhere," according to him.

He wasn't wrong, which was what made it so easy for him to get you alone.

When you weren't talking about the games, your conversations would shift to a more personal tone.

You'd share very minimal information about yourself, and, though he didn't show it, Chishiya found himself hanging on your every word.

You actually shared some interests in common, like your literature preferences, your appreciation for Renaissance art, and your overall logical way of thinking.

Chishiya found these moments to be the most intimate ones he'd ever experienced, despite no physical contact being involved.

His eyes would drift to your arms, remembering how you'd clung to him that night when he'd rescued you.

And how he so desired to feel them around him again.

Not that he'd ever say this, of course.

He fantasizes about holding you a lot.

Considering how everything is so unstable in the Borderlands, the security you gave him, and the security he felt over you, made him feel safe. A commodity in the Borderlands.

He's started stealing some of your belongings, too.

Well, of the few you have.

He stole your pillow case and put it over his pillow so he can smell you when he's drifting off to sleep, imagining you there with him, calming him.

Considering all the pillow cases in the Beach were identical, you'd never be able to tell.

He gets a bit of a thrill out of you being so close to something of yours he's taken whenever you come over to his room.

Makes him feel alive in a way the games don't.

It makes him feel human; like he's discovering love for the first time.

One evening, he had the idea of purposely endangering you during the games just so he could swoop in and save you.

The idea was a fleeting fancy, nothing more. But it haunted him, watched him.

And he found himself enacting it.

And, sure enough, it worked.

During one particularly stressful game, you'd lost a key you needed to unlock a door and find a ticket, which would give you your escape.

The keys had been well hidden throughout the map, and when you'd found yours, you hoped and prayed the door it unlocked would actually have a ticket behind it.

Chishiya had finished a good ten minutes before you, and when your back had been turned, he'd swiped your key from the band of your swimsuit, pocketing it, disappearing behind a corner before you'd even realised what had happened.

And now he watched you panic, cry, and near give up as the timer counted down when you found your precious key gone.

He reveled in your distress, as ashamed as he'd be to say it. The fruits of his labour hung over him in his mind's eye; the feeling of you pressed tightly against him.

Chishiya appeared behind you like a phantom, presenting the key to you.

"Found this a few minutes ago; thought you'd have some use for it."

You near wept into his chest, just as you had done during your first meeting.

You were never in any real danger, Chishiya made sure of that.

But he needed to make you believe that you were so his plans would take full effect.

That evening, you barely left his side, sticking close to him.

You just needed some form of comfort, something to help you make sense of what had nearly happened.

This was the second time he'd saved you, protected you from death, and you weren't going to let him out of your sight.

That was far too close for your liking. Losing your key like that - you had no idea how you'd managed to do such a thing.

And Chishiya consoled you throughout the night, reveling in how you held his hand, cried into his shoulder, berated yourself for being so careless with the literal key to your survival.

His heart thrummed, and he near purred at the feeling of your skin on his as you rested your head on his shoulder, wrapped in his jacket.

He felt like he owned you.

And that's how Chishiya wanted you: dependent on him and him alone.

And now, with you sleeping at his side, nestled into his chest, he counted the infinite ways he could make that so - how he could keep you with him.

Forever.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist

Masterpost

#yandere aib #chishiya #chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro #aib x reader #yandere chishiya #aib scenarios #yandere aib x reader #yandere chishiya x reader #yandere chishiya shuntaro #Alice in Borderland #yandere alice in borderland #alice in borderland x reader

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renren-006 · 2 months

Note

Hi there! I’m an angst addict so I was thinking like a story about the sorcerer ball that Geralt and Yennefer attend in season 3 but with the Reader who is like dating Geralt has to stay behind with Jaskier and Ciri has some jealousy because of Geralt and Yen’s history and starts thinking that our white wolf would prefer her instead….if that makes sense 😭

Preference? | Geralt x Fem Reader

word count: 909

a/n: omg yesss!! i had fun writing this so enjoyyyyy!!

The ball was that evening, and after the long boat ride and fight you, Geralt, and Ciri had to go through, you were looking forward to it. What you didn't expect was Geralt sidelining you with Jaskir and Ciri. You stood there dumbfounded and Yennifer and Geralt explained that it would make more sense to have more people watch Ciri. You watched him leave that night in an elegant outfit and a single kiss before he went towards the castle.

“He loves you, you know that right Y/N” Jaskir said to you.

“How Jask. Look at Yennefer. I'll never look like her, and I'll never be as powerful…” you told him. You and Jaskir were best friends before Geralt even entered the picture. He glanced over at you, seeing you go through heartbreak after heartbreak. This time, both of you wanted this to be the last. He hugged you as Geralt disappeared beyond sight.

Ciri, however, didn't notice anything. Absorbed in her own little world for a bit, or at least for most of the night, she didn't let on that she had been listening to you. She saw the way Yennifer was eying Geralt. It wasn't until a few card games that she talked about it.

“I prefer you over Yennefer.” She told you. Jaskir looked at you, seeing the smile and shock on your face. “I don't like that he didn't ask you to go.”

“I…I don't either, Ciri” you told the young girl.

“He loves you. I think he's just being stupid,” Ciri told you, comforting you. The young girl had taken a strong liking to you in the years you had been with and known her. She thought of you like a mother, a guardian, someone she knew would lay down her life to protect her. You managed to find her before Geralt and keep her safe while helping her find your lover and her guardian. Once you did, it felt like a family reunion. You remember meeting Yen with them and discovering her betrayal. Seeing her now and knowing she was trying to be genuine, you had no reason to worry, yet you did. The rest of the night was a mix of worry and jealousy.

You worried he would realize how much better the woman before him that night was than you. How powerful she was and how it barely compared to you. How could she teach Ciri far better than you could about magic, even though Ciri had mastered most, if not all, of what you had taught her so far. You just wanted Geralt to love you for you, and you felt as thought you might always be compared to her.

When morning came, and Geralt walked through the door with Yennifer, you noticed he wore a different outfit. You glanced at Yennifer, who was doing her best not to look over at you. Her face was flush, and her eyes were cast down away from you. Your worries were confirmed.

“I knew it,” you said. Geralt's eyes flashed with worry, worry that you had figured it out. You stormed out the back door, and Geralt followed after.

“Y/N! Y/N/N!” he yelled. Your flowy flower dress flowed in the wind as you continued storming off towards the woods, wishing to be with the trees. Soon after, you fell to the ground in the middle of a clearing, hearing and feeling the forest energy.

“Are you alright?” Geralt asked, kneeling next to you.

“You slept with Yennifer didn't you?” you asked, tears in your eyes. “You know I'm nothing compared to her. How could I ever expect to be better than her? You'll always want her…”

“Y/N that's not true” Geralt said, his husky voice causing you to shiver away.

“Yes it is” you said, power serging from you, rumbling the woods. “I am nothing compared to Geralt, I have less power, less beauty...”

“Y/N! I told her I wanted to marry you "Geralt said, holding your face in his hands.

“What?” you said. Suddenly everything in you went quiet, including the world around you.

“I told her I wanted to spend my life with you from now on. That she meant nothing to me anymore.” Geralt's words cut through you. Yennifer's downward look wasn't because she was sorry she slept with him, but because she was sorry she tried to and got rejected. You realize that Geralt's clothes were probably because he was tired from the long night of fighting that Yen lent him clothes, not because he wanted to stay.

“You want to marry me?” you asked him, tears in your eyes

“Yes,” he said firmly.

“I'm sorry…I was…” you stumbled over words.

“It's okay. Darling i understand” He said kissing your tears away, “I understand why you got there. Why you think I loved her? I don't”

“I know that now” you said slightly laughing, “I love you”

“I know, darling,” he said. He helped you stand and walk back towards that little cottage with your family inside. Yennifer came over and apologized profusely. She wanted nothing more than to be friends and to set up the wedding. She was happy he found someone like you and that she wouldn't ever get in the way. You were happy your worries were not true and that Geralt was the man for you forever.

#witcher geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt and ciri #geralt z rivii #the witcher x reader #the witcher #henry cavill

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feelbokkie · 9 months

Text

When You're Both Competing in the ISAC

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

**Request**

There's never anything with isac on here lol but what if u wrote stray kids with idol! Reader at isac? Just fluffy hcs or smthn like that! I love ur writing btw I EAT THAT SHIT UP! Also could I be 🍄anon in case I request anything in the future? Have a wonderful day/night or whenever ur reading this!

genre: fluff, a smidge of crack as a treat

pov: 2nd person

description: you and your boyfriend are both competing in the ISAC

pairing: idol!skz x idol!reader

warnings: swearing

word count: 903 (unedited)

a/n: 🍄, i hope you like it!

방 찬 (Bang Chan)

He's busy trying to keep the kids in line

And messing around with other idols

But without fail, this man is waiting for you after everyone of your events with a water in a towel

Ready to tell you how good of a job you did

And if you didn't, you either didn't win or messed up, he's there to cheer you up

Ready to give you a hug, not caring if there are cameras and fans

"You did your best. Did you have fun? Yeah? Then that's all that matters."

이 민 호 (Lee Min-Ho)

Oh he's teasing you relentlessly throughout the entire event

You will not know peace

You're doing an event? He's on the sidelines just saying things to throw you off your rhythm

"Y/n! Your shoe is untied!" When it is very clearly not

"Y/n, the goal is right there!" When you miss a goal

"Y/n! I know you can do better than that! Just imagine JYP pdnim is watching!"

He just likes watching you get all flustered

And boy does it work

Can't help but smirk when you start doing well after he starts teasing you

서 창 빈 (Seo Chang-Bin)

He does not care about the cameras or the fans, he's openly hanging around you and cheering for you

He might be the loudest one cheering for you to be completely honest

Changbin was getting so out of hand with how loudly he was cheering for you and celebrating when you did well or trying to call the refs out for bad calls that Chan had to put him on a time out

Had to bring Felix in to calm him down and everything

Can't help be proud of you

Biggest cheerleader

황 현 진 (Hwang Hyun-Jin)

You two are just off on the side entertaining fans together by dancing

Started off with you two doing dance challenges

And then trying to dance to each other's songs while you sang for them

And then a fan screamed for you two to do a specific song

So you two started taking requests

And then it somehow turned into a dance battle

You two created your own event for the isac

Other idols started getting involved and it turned into a large thing

Both of you two the opportunity to just fuck off and go sit somewhere and talk

You were tired from dancing and the unexpected fan service

Caused people to start shipping you two

한 지 성 (Han Ji-Sung)

He's sharing his contraband snacks

He'll go and seek you out and just tell you to put your hand out

And of course you do because it's Han and it's either going to be really cute or really funny

Just gives you the food and quickly disappears back to his group

Can't do much because there are cameras and fans watching

Will sometimes give your members snacks too so it doesn't look too suspicious

If you're doing an event he'll leave the snack with one of your members with a little note for you

All of his snacks have little notes for you, just cheering you on or telling you how cool or cute you looked in your events or saying how well you did

And if you did poorly, the snack will have a note trying to cheer you up

이 용 복 (Lee Felix Yong-Bok)

He's cheating

Even if you two aren't directly competing against each other and you're in the same company

He's cheating

You two made you own little competition to up the ante

Whoever does the best in their events wins

And this man is competitive as hell so he has to win even though he loves you

Does it in the cutest ways possible though so how can you be mad at him

Like cheering when he knows you want it quiet

Or making sure he's in your line of sight and making silly faces

If you two are in the pubg esports category together, he's going straight for you

Will kill you without mercy and just go "oops?"

Despite his best efforts, you end up winning

김 승 민 (Kim Seung-Min)

He's intently watching all your events from afar

Or so he thinks

He's somehow in all of the shots of every single one of your events

He's not hyperly (is that even a word??) cheering you on like Changbin

But he can be seen a few times silently cheering while balling his fists when you do well

Has been caught on camera, either by a fan or a cameraman, smiling and staring at you in awe as you compete

But if you ask him about it later he'll just shrug and go "Eh, you did okay."

Will deny everything if you show him all of the footage of him thinking that you did more than okay

양 정 인 (Yang Jeong-In)

If he sees you, he's running in the opposite direction

Number 1, he's trying to avoid a scandal

And number 2, he knows that if he's near you, he'll want to latch onto you or just hover near you

Especially if he did bad in an event

Like when he tripped during the relay race

Or didn't do too well during archery

Just being around you will cheer him up and he needs to be comforted

And you want to comfort him so bad, rumors be damned

One time he was actively talking to an idol from another group and saw you from the corner of his eye and just quickly excused himself and bolted

Don't worry, you comforted this shit out of him once the ISAC was over

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Permanent Taglist

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

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vscabarca · 3 months

Text

photographer - pablo gavi

summary: gavi has a crush on the club‘s photographer, but he‘s afraid you don‘t speak spanish.

genre: fluff

———

Sitting on the couch with the phone in your hands, you scrolled through old pictures, smiling at all the beautiful moments you’ve experienced over the years. Giggling, you turned your head towards your boyfriend, gavi.

He was watching a random football game when he turned his head and shifted his attention to you.

„what‘s so funny hermosa?“ he asked, stroking your legs which were draped over his lap.

„i just found the picture i took of you when we first met.“ you snickered, making gavi turn his head in embarrassment.

„amor, this is so embarrassing.“ He groaned.

„no it was cute! It just makes me laugh that you told me you were too shy to speak english.“ you replied, shuffling closer to him and put you head on his chest.

———

„¿quién es?“ gavi asked fermin, trying to sound unbothered by your presence.

„who?“ fermin asked, not really understanding what his friend was saying.

„who is the new photographer? i’ve never seen her before.“ he tilted his head towards you, who recently started working as a club photographer. you were twenty, moving from England to Spain, pursuing your dream in sports photography. Pure coincidence led you to this job, now taking pictures of sweaty footballers every day. Couldn’t be better right?!

„ay Pablito likes the new photographer huh?“ fermin nudged him, earning a smack from his friend.

„OW!“

gavi wouldn’t tell anyone for the first few weeks but he found you very cute. During his trainings he glanced over to you sometimes, seeing you do your job and take pictures for the official FC Barcelona account.

After one particular fun practice, he walked back with Ansu to the locker room. On his way back, you stood on the sidelines, encouraging the players to pose for a post-practice picture.

It was the first time he heard your voice, a british accent coming through.

„smile!“ you asked kindly when ansu and gavi walked past. Both flashed you a smile, making your lips turn upwards too.

After the „click“ sound, you glanced back up, holding eye contact with gavi for a few seconds. As the two players disappeared into the tunnel, you couldn’t help but blush at the thought of the nineteen year old.

@fcbarcelona: training done🫡 ✅

———

„just ask her out after practice hermano!“ pedri urged gavi but he just shook his head resolutely.

pedri found out about his little crush not much later. gavi wasn’t the best at keeping things to himself, he just couldn’t keep secrets.

„hermano, I can’t speak english!“ he spoke frustrated after hearing you talk with a british accent.

pedri just laughed out loud, his head flying back as he clutched onto his chest.

„bro, be serious I bet she can speak spanish. At least a bit. You can speak english too!“ pedri argued, encouraging his younger friend to make a move.

„Have you ever heard me speak english? I sound stupid with my accent!“ gavi just waved him off, getting into a shower to clear his mind.

It has been a week later and gavi still didn’t talk to you. His heartache grew stronger over time, seeing you everyday engrossed in your work made him weak. Little did he know, you had your focus more on gavi than on any other player, snapping some good pictures of him during practice.

The next day, gavi came home late, deciding to ask you out the day after. Stressed as he was, he downloaded Duolingo to do about three exercises before he grew even more stressed and deleted the app again.

———

tying his boots, he received a crash course from ansu. he could speak english quite well in contrast to gavi.

mid-sentence he shot up, glaring at his friend.

„how do you know I have a crush on the photographer?“ he asked bewildered as he saw ansus smirk on his lips.

„almost the whole team knows, don’t tell pedri your secrets pablito.“

he was fuming but walked off earning funny faces from his teammates.

you were doing your job like always, trying to get some good shots when gavi walked in front of the lens, doing a silly pose.

you glanced up from the camera, blushing as you saw gavi smiling at you.

„did you get a good shot?“ he asked rather shy, his thick spanish accent coming through.

„yeah. not really hard when you’re the model.“ you chuckled, seeing Gavis lips curl up into a smile at your words.

„could be the other way around too, you know?“

your heart fluttered after hearing the footballers words, a blush creeping up your face.

„i‘m gavi by the way.“

you just laughed, seeing the puzzled expression on the boy’s face.

„i know who you are, silly. I‘m Y/n.“ you said, feeling much more comfortable now after seeing how nice gavi actually was.

he relaxed too, feeling a good connection between the two of you.

„so, i‘ve seen you around for some time now and thought you were really cute. is there a chance to get to know you better?“ gavi asked, before seeing his teammates walk onto the pitch alongside xavi.

„yes of course. i could give you my number.“ you offered and placed the camera down next to you.

„Sería perfecto.“ Gavi answered, forgetting you didn‘t speak Spanish.

„my english isn’t the best, i mix it up sometimes.“ He said and scratched the back of his head.

„don’t worry, your english is perfect. I‘m the one who should learn spanish!“

He smiled softly at you when you scribbled your number on a piece of paper and handed it to him.

„gavi! come here!“ xavi shouted, interrupting the cute moment between you two.

gavi glanced over his shoulder, seeing the whole team staring at you.

„go, or else xavi will kill me for talking to his beloved youngster.“ you chuckled as Gavi laughed at your joke, pulling you in a short hug.

„see you around. i‘ll text you.“ he spoke, already running to the group before he earned a slap on his head from pedri. fermin basically jumped onto his back as he told them what the two of them were talking about.

———

„if you didn’t speak English that day, i probably wouldn’t sit on your lap right now, don’t you think?“ you asked and put your hands around his neck, pulling gavi closer to you.

He just smirked cockily, pulling you into a sweet kiss and mumbled a quiet „mhmm“.

#pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #gavi #gavi x reader #gavi one shot #barca #football x reader #football one shot #fc barcelona #fermin lopez x reader #pedri x reader

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writer-freak · 5 months

Text

New years confession | Iso x Gn reader

Summary: You have a crush on the new agent Iso but just can't imagine him liking you back. You try your best to avoid him but during the New Year celebration at the headquarters, confessions are made.

Warnings: Gn reader, shy reader, confessions, maybe ooc Iso, english isn't my first language, otherwise fluff

Wordcount: 1.1 k

A/n: So I actually had something written for Christmas but it still isn't finished so take this in the meantime. It's my first time writing for Iso and I didn't know exactly how I wanted to write him so I just tried something out sorry if it is ooc. Finished that right now real quick so some things may not exactly make sense but I hope you guys still enjoy it.

Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more

When Iso arrived you were unable to take your eyes off him, and the first time you talked your words got stuck in your throat. You were somehow able to play it off but Iso definitely noticed that he was the reason for your reaction.

You tried to avoid him as best as you could but somehow he would always find you. It almost felt like he was purposefully seeking you out, especially when the others commented that he seemed to not really talk to anyone else at the headquarters.

But you tried to push that fluttering feeling in the back of your head, you didn't want to read too much into the situation. You reasoned that maybe he is just not used to everyone else and finds you the most approachable. You convinced yourself that that was the reason and that if he just spent more time with the others everything would be fine.

When Jett and Neon asked you if you wanted to help with the party preparations you agreed right away. It was something that could give you an excuse not to talk with Iso while also keeping you busy.

Time flew by as you helped with the party preparations, making sure everything was perfect for the night's festivities. The thought of Iso's presence at the celebration lingered in the back of your mind, and the mere idea of spending the countdown with him in the room made your heart race.

The party was in full swing with everyone drinking, dancing, and conversing.

As the clock ticked closer to midnight you sought out a quiet corner, taking in everyone else from the sidelines. As you were lost in your thoughts someone appeared beside you, "Enjoying the party?" You could recognize Iso's smooth voice immediately, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You jumped slightly, caught off guard "O-Oh, yeah. It's great." you stammered feeling a familiar heat rising to your cheeks. As you looked up at him you took a moment to take in how the colorful lights were casting a beautiful glow across him. Before you could get too lost in your admiration he spoke up again "I'm glad." He said with a smile, for a moment it felt like the world around you disappeared, leaving only you two in this corner.

The new year now was almost around the corner and while you took a sip of your drink you could feel Iso's eyes constantly on you. Trying to break the silence you asked "Ready for the new year?" You looked into his eyes with a slight smile.

He let out a breath before a smile took over on his lips "Well, almost, there is actually one more thing that I really wanted to do this year," Iso admitted, his tone carrying a hint of anticipation. With curiosity in your eyes, you couldn't help but ask, "And what is it?"

Iso took your free hand into his, his eyes now locked onto yours. Iso's smile grew, and he took a moment before answering, "I wanted to be honest with you, to share something that's been on my mind." Your heart quickened the anticipation building. Iso's gaze remained unwavering as he continued "I've noticed the way you react when I'm around, the way your words get caught. It hasn't escaped my attention, and I can't ignore the fact that you've been trying to avoid me."

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how he would continue. Iso, however, tightened his grip on your hand reassuringly. "But tonight, I don't want to play it off or pretend. I want to be straightforward with you," he confessed, his voice carrying sincerity. "I've found myself drawn to you, and I can't ignore the connection that seems to spark between us. I'd like to spend more time with you, and get to know you even more."

As Iso spoke, the countdown to midnight echoed in the background, the excitement of the celebration reaching its peak. "So, what do you say?" he asked, his gaze holding a mixture of hope and vulnerability. "Would you be willing to spend the upcoming year with me, not just as a teammate but maybe as something more?" Iso's confession hung in the air, the weight of his words settling between you two. The anticipation in his eyes was palpable, and you felt a familiar tightness in your throat, much like the first time you spoke to him.

He had bared his feelings, leaving the decision in your hands. Iso's sincerity and vulnerability tugged at your heartstrings, and you took a moment, allowing the silence to linger.

A lump formed in your throat, and you found it difficult to meet Iso's gaze. The colorful lights of the New Year's Eve celebration seemed to blur, but you took a steadying breath. Iso's hand in yours provided a sense of comfort, grounding you in the moment.

"Iso," you finally spoke, your voice soft but resolute. "I… I've felt it too. The way you make my heart race and my words get stuck. I tried to avoid you because I just didn't know how to handle it."

You looked up, meeting his eyes with a shy smile. "But tonight, I don't want to play it off either. I've enjoyed every moment we've spent together, and I'd like to see where this could go. So, yes, Iso. I'd like to spend the upcoming year with you, not just as a teammate but as something more."

The countdown started, everybody loudly screaming around you but everything was drowned out when Iso took a step closer to you. He gently cupped your cheek and almost in a whisper asked "Can I kiss you?" You knew that your words completely escaped you at the moment so you just closed the gap between you two, putting your lips on his.

In the background, you could hear everyone cheering and screaming "Happy New Year!" Cheers and the sound of fireworks filled the air, but for you, time seemed to stand still leaving only the feeling of his lips upon yours.

As fireworks lit up the sky in an arrangement of beautiful colors you and Iso pulled away from each other, a shared smile on your lips. "Happy New Year" Iso whispered, his eyes holding a warmth that eased the nervousness within you.

"Happy New Year" you replied, a genuine happiness blossoming within as you realized that, perhaps, the new year held more surprises.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

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itsonlydana · 6 days

Note

Hey hey, saw ur requests were open for Thranduil and knew I needed to submit something!

Could you do a Thranduil x fem human reader where she braids her hair without knowing the significance for elves? They both have feelings for each other but neither has said anything, supper fluffy ending y’know?

Thank you in advance and have a great day!! :))

Beautiful misunderstandings | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem human!reader 👑

You simply wanted to accept an invitation to a celebration, but something about you makes the elves literally drop at your feet. Can Thranduil resolve this misunderstanding, or will he be affected as well?

tags/warnings: just lots and lots of fluff, no warnings

word count: 3,6k

an: to be honest, most of what i wrote is my own headcanons because i did not find lots about hair culture with the elves.. so please: educate me! Are there some hcs in the fandom? :)

+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

The forests of Greenwood greet you with open flames of torches licking up their hot tongues against the dark skies, coloring the path the horse trots along in their amber lights and the wooden smoke that fills the air. Evenly distributed along the pathway they light up just enough of Greenwood that it doesn't take away from the sight that awaits you at the end, where the trees give way to an equally decorated bridge and the foliage thins out enough for you to take in the tall arches framing the open doors of the Great Elvenking's halls.

You have already been a guest for many of Thranduil's festivities ever since he established trading relations with your small fisher town. Due to the bond that twirls around the two of you in some unfathomable and complex manner, you also know that nothing he ever does is anything but grande and imposing.

Still, you can't help but push your lower lip in between your teeth.

Not once have you gotten the impression of standing out more than the difference in race and status already marked as obvious factors, neither Thranduil nor his elves treated you like you felt right now:

Completely out of your known waters.

The elvish customs were far too many for you to know them all and you always try your best to consider all and everything that you've learned in the two summers you could consider yourself an acquaintance to Thranduil. Whatever form this acquaintanceship took on is another worry, or rather, another unknown that you can't exactly express to anyone.

It's nearly as confusing as the steps of the dance you studied in your room before you left this morning, a step forward and two back, Thranduil asking you to accompany him to his dances but never dancing with you.

Tonight, you want to change this predicament of always ending up in the arms of another elf while the one you yearned for watches from the sidelines! You didn't work this hard for the fabric that hugs your figure in a beautiful dress for nothing and even if the fabric isn't as shiny or light as the dresses the elves wear and the stitches marked your fingertips with the evidence of the labor and long nights, you are proud of the garment.

The wind plays in the hem as you emerge from the guarded forest and its thick and dense foliage and it winds itself around your legs after you dismount your horse. A quick kiss to his muzzle, followed by an exhale of warm, familiar breath and you hesitantly let a servant take him away, mumbling a soft "Thank you" while you stay where you are and watch until they disappear around a tree.

Nervously you start walking up to the bridge, the reckless water under it crashing against the stone walls and it goes along with the blood that pumps high and fast through your body and rushes in your ears. The atmosphere is loaded, sizzling under the nearly suffocating heat that's only bearable in the cool shadows of the palace in front of you so you don't waste another second.

You brush off the hood of your riding coat, smoothing out some fly-away hairs that escaped the braid you carefully weaved earlier this day as you duck your head in reverence to be allowed in these sacred halls.

Whispers catch up to you from outside, a breeze dancing through leaves.

When you lift your chin again, you find that it's not the air affecting nature but rather your presence halting nearly all the elves that gathered on the first bridge inside the caves.

They say elves are graceful and purposeful in their movements – the way dozens of eyes are locked onto you and lips move in not-so-silent murmurs defiles that claim though.

It's nothing you haven't encountered before, the talks behind your back that came along with Thranduil's attention shining down on you like the sun – hot, engulfing you completely and rendering you breathless as well as a bit sweaty at times whenever he looks at you, and you learned how to handle it. His attention brought forth a lot of awareness of his folk to the woman who visits Thranduil just as often as he rides into your town and becomes the topic of conversations for weeks. What's a girl to do except accept that a King never comes alone?

You're used to elves watching you, most of them in respect. Thranduil's authority radiates onto you, as well as the protection that he swore would lay upon you as long as he's there to give out orders.

The first elf whose eyes you questioningly meet drops to his knees in the same instant, barely a breath of time passing by.

A gasp leaves your throat.

Words do not follow. They remain echoing in your head, pushed back by the spectacle that spread before you like wildfire. Too fast, too much.

Within seconds of you entering, the buzz of lowered voices dies down as elf after elf either bows or completely meets the ground they are standing on. The spectacle is confusing and throws you completely off; this reaction is nowhere near what you've experienced before and you do the first thing that comes to mind to handle this totally unsuspected confrontation of elves bowing to you, a human from no known family and nothing to your name other than the weight it carries on Thranduil's tongue.

The only thing you manage to stammer is: "Good evening," and a high-pitched, "Thank you?" before you take your legs into your hand and dash over the bridge.

Thoughts as unstoppable as you run through your mind while you navigate the curving halls of the underground palace, the stonewalls not cool enough to diminish the heat that sits low in your neck, growing the longer you think about all that has happened between Thranduil and you and how it's not much more than nothing but a close alliance of human and elf.

One that you hope would take on a different turn, because some of the actions by Thranduil could be considered friendlier than one would treat an ally or friend. You think back to all the gifts you have received, the white gems for example that, barely bigger than your nails but woven into the upper part of your braid, reflect the light and throw silver dots against the walls that lead you to the point Thranduil had asked you to meet him in one of his many letters.

The route involves more encounters with more elves, some bow more subtly, their hands on their chest in a greeting that you do know, and some others, mostly those who've already fallen in barrels of wine and are less sophisticated in their movements in their drunken state who repeat the word "bereth" as if it's a prayer in a language that's far beyond you to make out right now.

At the end of the hallway, you make out the back of a familiar blonde and even from afar you notice the resemblance that Thranduil's silver circlet has to the silver ribbon you have woven into your hair in a similar way and height how his circlet would look placed on your head.

Is this what brought such uproar to the elves? Have you accidentally copied their king?

"Thranduil!" you call out, his name lacking any title though not out of disrespect. You have the highest respect for the King of the Elves and slip a "Your Majesty" rather often into conversations because you know how much he favors his name from your tongue and teasing him like that brings a joy to you that you can't explain anyway else then:

Hearing him laugh and smile or roll his eyes at your antics fuels the love you harbor for him.

Now is not the time for teasing chit-chat, you are desperate to find out if you have actually misstepped by presenting his gifts like this at a festival that's solely about him.

He turns at the sound of your voice and, oh lord, even his eyes widen as soon as they land on you and you want to perish rather than step any closer but the hurry in your legs and the nervousness in your stomach makes it impossible to do anything else but run to the one soul in this world that brings you comfort.

You arrive at a full stop, and your heels would have stirred up dust if you were a mare.

Now it's not only Thranduil's eyes that seem to have developed an inability to stray farther than your head; his mouth falls open as well and he makes no effort to close it again. The fact that this behavior is completely ungracious and ill-mannered has apparently not dawned on him yet. The longer you spend helplessly looking up at him, you swear you can see most of his thoughts visibly inching away behind that baffled expression.

At first, there's nothing.

Then some clarity returns into the blue eyes you love so much and Thranduil exhales a quiet: "Berio nin."

Now, that's Sindarin you've heard before – that the context he has said these words were moments when he playfully begged the Valar to aid him with you tormented him in some way throws you off your balance even more and you take a step back.

"I did not–" you start and raise a hand to wave it at all of you, "This, I had no idea. Did I offend you? Or the elves?"

"Offend?" Thranduil asks bewildered.

"Well, the way they reacted. I wasn't sure," you laugh distraught. Thranduil's eyebrows instantly furrow, and you're quick to follow up: "Not in a bad way!" you explain and he loosens up, "They, um, they bowed? And some may have fallen to the ground?"

"Ah," he chuckles and his reaction calms you a bit. He could've been screaming or throwing you out. If he's laughing this can't be that big of a serious misstep. Thranduil looks at you through lowered lashes and runs his tongue over his teeth, a smile threatening to break through the serious expression he tries to obtain. "I believe a conversation and education is in order. If you would follow me to have this conversation somewhere else," he says and holds out his arm for you to grab.

He leads you around a corner and another one, walking swiftly yet seemingly in no hurry until Thranduil opens a door and quickly pulls you inside the room.

Candles littered all around light up what you immediately understand to be his private chambers, the many robes you recognize, the colorful falcons with shimmering scented oils and shells full of jewelry, pearls, gems, and rings in gold and silver. There, right where Thranduil stops in front of you to block out your view, you take a peek at a giant bed behind flowy white curtains.

You blush.

Even more so when you see Thranduil blush as well. His eyes return to your hair again, just like he had on the short walk to these chambers; tilting his head down to you as if some magical force bound him to staring at you in a manner he hadn't done before.

"You are my guest so I see it to be my responsibility to clear up what may have been a–" he pauses and his eyelashes flutter as he thinks of a fitting word, "a misapprehension. Not that you could have possibly known the outcome of what you doubtlessly suspected to be a kind gesture."

You nervously cross your arms behind your back, intertwining your fingers so you do not meddle or ruffle the carefully layered fabrics of your dress. "I solemnly swear I was not up for any mockery."

His eyes widen again. "I would not have accused you of such!"

You tilt your head in confusion and bite down on your lip, ungraceful as well and a habit you should definitely quit, especially in the company of a King.

"What was it that startled the elves?" You think back to the way Thranduil had reacted, the wide-blown eyes, the pink lips formed to a delicate 'o' – "As well as you, Thranduil. You couldn't even get a word out except for a prayer." You let out a single laugh to cover up your embarrassment.

The elf lifts his chin higher as if that could prevent you from noticing the blush deepening, growing much more red than just a delicate pink that stands out from his ivory skin but not much that it couldn't be interpreted as a light intoxication of either wine or fresh air.

"I do not remember that," he lies with a dismissive voice. "Anyway, let me clarify the current dilemma instead of wasting time discussing the past."

"Definitely not that far back that you could count it as 'the past' but sure," you sigh and decide to ignore the glare he sends you as you confront his very unsubtle passive- aggressive change of topic from him to you. Thranduil had centuries of building up a thickheadedness to lead the Woodland Realm and you had mere months on your hands in trying to push a way through it.

"Well, the behavior my folk portrayed was simply said the respect they pay for any honorable and eminent," Thranduil says, not batting an eye over the unbelievable words that come out of his mouth.

"What?" Your voice is nothing but a high squeal, "Why would they do that? They know I'm just a human!"

Thranduil scoffs, "Just a human, she says. Do not dismiss yourself in any way and most definitely not as just a human. Humans are such fascinating creatures, all those feelings compressed into an ephemeral life and bodies that endure pain and even if you waste away to dust you try to mark down your existence into every stone that you touch." Before you can burst into tears at his rather sentimental and emotional view of your people, he continues in a tone more factual: "To answer your question– you conveyed that I was courting you and they simply knew there would be grave consequences if they did not respect my intended."

All the air left your body in a singular exhale, thus leaving you to grasp at the few thoughts that stayed through the cut-off of oxygen. Not that they were any good.

Courting you? Being his intended?

You can only stare at him aghast.

"But– courting? You weren't, we weren't– there was no courting!" you stammer.

The world is reeling.

Black spots dance in the corner of your sight.

It takes all your focus to stand still and not sway back and forth, giving in to the abrupt slide downward reality has suddenly become.

"No," Thranduil says.

A part of you withers at the finality of the statement because of course, he, Great Elvenking Thranduil, would never be caught courting a human. The absurdity of it must be why he was laughing earlier, praying to the Valar to become a witness of what must be your greatest humiliation.

"No, there was. I was simply waiting for your realization as well as acceptance to officially proclaim it."

Now it's your mouth that falls open without any strength left to prevent it.

Thranduil swallows, hard, his jaw set tightly and his eyes fixating on you. "All that I did, and thought to do, was in prospect of taking you as my betrothed," he states; the smallest of quivers underlining the massive impact this admission causes to him. He lifts one hand to his chest, pressing his knuckles against the fabric where underneath his heart lays. "I ache to love, treasure, and worship you. Every second of all the days I may have the pleasure of your company in my life or it shall be colorless from now on."

His eyes glitter, the endless blues of the sky, affection burning in them like the sun, broadening your horizon of what you believed love to be and there is no doubt in your mind that Thranduil's words are nothing but the truth. Confounding as that truth should be, it is that – certainty.

A smile breaks on your face, watery and wet as tears of pure happiness spill onto your cheeks and even if your heart has been on the tip of your tongue at every word you have ever said to him and in every glance that you have ever directed in his way, the need to validate his revelation.

You step carefully step closer and the hem of your dress brushes against his gowns as you close the bit of distance. Thranduil watches cautiously, leaving his hand against his heart, and only tips his chin down to follow you until you step into his personal space. The whole regal and stoic image he portrays even after confessing his love passionately mere seconds ago breaks as you feel his wavering breath and you swear you can hear the loud pounding of his battered-yet-strong heart.

"Is it my hair?" you ask quietly and catch him off-guard.

Thranduil smiles and his chest heaves in a deep inhale of air. "Yes," he laughs in an exhale, "Do you wish to know how you managed to completely dismantle me? Rob me of all powers?"

You nod once and one hand of his comes to rest on your shoulder from where he leads you to a silver basin standing in a corner decorated with more oils and vines climbing the stone walls.

The sight that the clear water inside it shows you, Thranduil standing behind you, more than slightly taller, brings a warmness to your cheeks. Even if the prospect of his image finding a constant in your life from now on is undeniable, you're not sure if you will ever get satiated by it.

Thranduil slowly reaches the elaborate braid you are so proud of despite the public tumult it had caused. "There are many things sacred to my folk and hair –" he starts and lets his fingers travel the length of free-falling hair, "holds the memories of our history, our connection to the Eldar and kemen – the earth. We do not cut it but rather let it grow to pay our respects to Eru for his creation, the natural and untouched world, flows in us all. It bears the marks of our ancestry though many cultures convey their personal history in many different ways."

You listen intently, trying not to get distracted by Thranduil's hands smoothing your hair and the deep rumble of his voice wrapping around his language that pulls you into a trance.

"Among us Sindar, we wave our customs into the very strands of this sacred hair. Our warriors, for instance, adorn themselves with tightly woven braids, serving not only as protection in battle but as a testament to their strength and unwavering discipline."

"The intricate and jeweled braids you wear," Thranduil's fingers glide along the white gems, thus nudging them against your head, "they speak volumes of noble heritage and high standing. Even if you do not have royal blood in your family, a braid like this will be more convincing to the contrary."

You blush as you realize how you unknowingly changed your entire status.

"By adorning your hair with the jewels I bestowed upon you, you declare to all my claim upon you," Thranduil chuckles and meets your eyes in the water, "Braids are the essence of our heritage, denoting rank and occupation, and they speak volumes in courtship."

"Oh," you say, "I knew Elves court through gifts. Would I have known this…"

Thranduil shakes his head, smiling widely as he continues playing with your hair, "You say that but not once have you realized all that I have given to you were of my pursuit."

"Well, I– this wasn't… I thought you were being nice," you sputter and grow even redder in the face.

"Unbelievably rude and ungracious to consider me ni–" he interrupts himself and shivers, "No I will not speak in such obscene language." Thranduil raises an eyebrow before returning his attention to the lesson in courting, "Through these intricate weavings, we convey our intentions and the profound depth of our bonds. While dalliances are not uncommon, my folk only marry once in their life."

"Love is eternal and unwavering, and each twist in our braids declares the union of our souls. By weaving your hopes and pleas for reciprocation into your hair, you speak a silent yet powerful language. The braid you chose, resembling my crown and adorned with my jewels and a silver ribbon akin to my own hair, could not have delivered a clearer message."

"So I basically lied to your elves," you pull a face in shame, "Great."

"You may call it a lie," Thranduil says slowly and his hands travel to rest on your shoulders. You lean into the gentle pull and let him turn you around so that you are face-to-face again. There is a dedication in his eyes, a look of hunger and yearning, "Or," his voice sounds even deeper and reverberates through your entire body, zipping up your spine that you automatically straighten, "You allow me to present our courtship openly if a deeper connection is what you desire to form between us."

Your heart thumps in your chest, double the tempo that one would call normal and it only speeds up when Thranduil cups your face in his hand and his fingertips graze the silver ribbon that sits tightly against your head.

"Allow me," he repeats, quieter.

"Your word and the world will know you are mine," he pleads.

You waste not a second to ponder over what your heart already decided. "I allow it."

©itsonlydana 2024, character art by MiracleAna on Devianart

#📁files: thranduil fanfics #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x reader #thranduil oropherion #thranduil x you #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit x you #king thranduil

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pavardscherie · 1 year

Note

fluff with pedri?? maybe dad pedri at camp nou?? 🤷‍♀️🙈

pairing pedri x f! reader

summary: you visit camp nou with your two year old son and pedri shows him how to own the pitch.

izzy‘s non-sense talk: okay, this killed me. have my child, please. i can only imagine him being such a great dad. hope you like it! and thank you for the request!

when the culers bought their tickets to the game, they expected a win from the team, they loved so dearly. what they did not plan on, was seeing a fan favorite midfielder in his most vulnerable state. on the pitch, when the minutes ticked away, pedri owned the game. dribbling out the enemies, finding the loopholes and adding assist after assist to his record.

the clear win spread happiness through camp nou, the individual players celebrated with the culers, clapping and singing the hymns they created. while most of them were occupied by the non-stopping cheering, pedri snuck away from the team to greet his two year old son, paulo. it was the first visit to camp nou, the little boy would remember. after all, he was a weekly guest when he was only a couple of months old.

pedri always tried his best to keep paulo‘s face out of the media, and hidden from the annoying photographers. this time, it was very different. the little hand disappeared in pedri‘s calloused palm, leading the two year old towards the empty goal. a football in his free hand, the midfielder wanted to show off the brilliance of his son to the culers and his mates.

paulo tried to hide himself behind his father‘s leg, the large crowds much scarier when standing in front of them than being in the middle of it. and as if the scene was planned and prepared, a couple of left over teammates started to shush the culers with their hands to allow paulo a perfect, and fearless first appearance in front of the crowds.

lewandowski has done it with his kids, showing them to the world with a proud smile plastered on his face while celebrating another win, another two goals he scored with them. but pedri has always been more protective with his son, always trying to keep foreign people far away from him.

pedri saw how much paulo imitated his father at home, trying to dribble the ball with his little feet, and outplaying you in the living room. and this time, the midfielder wanted to give his son the real chance to feel the cheering of the fans, the loud clapping and the hymn echoing through the stadium.

sharing smiles with his teammates, pedri led the little boy towards the white point in front of the goal. shooting a penalty was easier with no goalkeeper, but ter stegen immediately took his place in front of the net with a wide smile. obviously, he would not catch the ball, no matter how easy it would be.

crouching down beside his son, he whispered little hints about the goalkeeper‘s habit‘s into his ear, earning an understanding nod from paulo. „do it like pepi.“ you shouted from the sideline, clapping your hands together for your little everything. a small exemplar of pedro, the hair as black as charcoal, the sun-kissed tan a mixture of you and him. dressed in his own little jersey with ‚gonzalez‘ written on the back, paulo took a couple of steps back and showed ter stegen his tongue with a smile.

a signature gesture, a celebration gesture his father once made before pedri potter was born. truly exactly like the proud father, dressed in the barcelona kit with the number eight on the back, who stood beside his son with a wide smile. pride glistened in the curve of his mouth, and even tears gathered on his waterline, seeing the grown up little guy with his two years. paulo was everything pedro wanted after meeting you, and falling deeply and madly in love.

running forward, paulo kicked the ball with all his strength, watching with big, brown eyes and expectation. the ball jumped once, jumped twice, and ter stegen fell in the right direction but way too slowly and it rolled over the line. paulo could not believe what was happening, raising his hands in the air and running straight to his father, who watched proudly.

behind ter stegen, the culers cheered loudly, shouting pedris name but clapping for paulo‘s goal. the midfielder reached out for his son, picking him up in his arms with a wide smile. „did you see? i scored a goal just like you do!“ paulo boomed with happiness, giggling between the words.

„yes, yes, you did.“ pedri encouraged the little boy in his arms, his own world, he held tightly. „you just did it much better than pepi ever could.“

from the sidelines, you had your palms pressed to one another, the side of your fingers against your lips. pedri has been a good father before paulo was even born. always so caring, always so loving towards you and the growing belly. it was more than you could have imagined the night, you met the midfielder and engaged in a conversation.

the man you loved, who pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of paulo‘s hair. the little boy that looked exactly like his father, and would grow into such a great person as well. it was perfect.

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genshinluvr · 1 year

Text

The Unexpected

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!reader

Summary: You never really think much about how long you'll be on Teyvat. You're not from the men's universe and everyone knows that. It's not possible for you to be gifted a vision from Celestia, or at least that's what you and the men assumed. Who knew that getting kidnapped overnight and disappearing without a trace ends up with you having a vision.

Notes: Honestly, I have no idea what to call the fanfic, so I just called it what it is. This fic focuses more on the what-if the reader gets a vision despite not being from the Genshin men's universe. I will not be posting a 5k+ fic next week since I'm starting something else next week. I will be posting a mini fic for the Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!reader series next week. Hopefully, once the school year is done and it's summer, I will have more ideas and not deal with writer's block. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, but it's nothing major or traumatic

Word Count: 7.9k

How did it turn out like this? A few weeks ago, you and the twenty-five men were laughing and joking around with each other. Now here you are, trapped in a dungeon beneath the tunnel somewhere you’re not sure of. Your head is hurting, and your limbs feel numb. You’re tired, and you want to go home. You want to get out of this place, but you can’t because there’s no easy way for you to escape. You press your back against the concrete walls before sliding down, sitting on the ground, and tilting your head back.

You close your eyes and gulp. “Please, let me out. I’m begging,” you whisper.

A few weeks ago…

You watch the men spar on the second island in the abode. In the first round, they weren’t allowed to use their visions. It was hand-to-hand combat for the first round. Then in the second round, they were able to use their weapons because it was more focused on weapons.

Now, it’s the third round, and everyone is using their vision. While it’s everyone that is sparring with each other, you’re sitting off to the side because, well, you don’t possess a weapon or vision to join them in their little sparring competition. But you weren’t the only person that’s sitting on the sidelines.

You turn to look at Baizhu. “Are you sure you wanted to keep me company? You usually join the sparring competition with the others,” you said, hugging your legs to your chest.

Baizhu smiles and nods. “Of course, I wanted to keep you company. It’s not fair for you to sit on the sidelines while everyone is competing with each other,” says Baizhu.

“It’s also because Doctor Baizhu’s health has been depleting,” Changsheng interjects, rising from Baizhu’s shoulders. “His patient the day before took a toll on him, and now he’s… recuperating.”

Your eyes widen, and you look at Baizhu worriedly. “Baizhu, you told me you weren’t going to do that anymore,” you whisper, frowning at the green-haired man beside you. “I understand you’re trying to get a better understanding of your patient’s illness, but you’re putting your health and life at risk.” You frowned.

“Hey!” Aether hollers from afar.

You and Baizhu turn to look at the field where the others are standing. They’re all lined up beside each other, their weapons at their sides while staring at you and Baizhu. Oh, shit. Did you miss out on something while talking to Baizhu and Changsheng? You and Baizhu get up from your seats and walk over to where the men are standing.

You stop in front of the large group with Baizhu by your side. “Did something happen?” You ask, looking at Aether worriedly.

Itto nods with a pout on his face. “Yeah! You weren’t paying attention to us while we were sparring with each other!” Itto whines, stomping his foot on the ground while faking a sniffle.

Itto walks toward you and tackles you into a hug, smushing your face against his sweaty chest while he continues to lament over the lack of your attention. You groan with disgust when you feel your cheeks pressed up against Itto’s sweaty chest. You gently push him away and wipe your cheek with the collar of your shirt.

Diluc looks at you curiously while he crosses his arms over his bare chest. “[Y/N], the men and I were having a discussion, and we wanted to ask you something,” says Diluc, brushing his bangs away from his sweaty forehead.

You look at Diluc quizzically. “Wait, you guys were having a group discussion? I didn’t see you guys huddle in a circle and have a chat with each other,” you say, propping your hands on your hip.

Kaeya chuckles, shaking his head. “That is because you were distracted by talking with Baizhu over to the side,” Kaeya replies, giving you a look while smirking at you.

You clear your throat before diverting the conversation. “Anyway! What is the question you wanted to ask me?”

“What elements do you like the most? Hydro? Pyro? Geo? Electro? Dendro? Anemo? Or Cryo?” asks Heizou, pointing at each little group.

You look at the men in front of you, finally realizing they’re lined up by elements, and each element has a respective “leader” of the group. Then there’s Kaeya and Cyno, standing there by themselves with no one behind them. Then there’s Dainsleif and the four Harbingers, standing off to the side.

“Do you guys not have…” you trail off. “You know what? Never mind! I think that will be the conversation for next time, right?”

Pantalone smiles at you and nods. “That is correct, little butterfly. We won’t be revealing anything yet until the future,” Pantalone says cryptically.

Your gaze slowly wanders over to Dottore, who’s staring at you contently. When the two of you make eye contact (it’s a little bit hard to tell because of his mask), the corners of Dottore’s lips curve up while he tilts his head to the side. You pucker your lips and point at Dottore, opening your mouth to say something before closing your mouth.

Dottore raises his eyebrows at you beneath his mask. “Oh? Did you want to say something?” Dottore asks, crossing his hands behind his back.

“I could’ve sworn you had a vision. Either it’s Cryo, or it’s Hydro….” you trial off, tapping your chin with your index finger.

Capitano chuckles and mutters something under his breath. “That’s something for you to interpret. Later, we will reveal our visions, or what we possess,” Capitano interjects.

You sigh before turning to look at the others, who have been patiently waiting for you to answer Heizou’s pressing question. What was the question again? Ah! Right. Which element do you prefer out of the seven? Or would it be eight since Dainsleif doesn’t have a vision, and his powers look really pretty but also intimidating at the same time?

“Elements that I prefer, huh?” You murmur, gradually spacing off.

Xiao sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are we really going to make [Y/N] choose between the seven elements?” Xiao asks.

Venti giggles. “Well, they don’t have to answer the question! Most of us are curious to see what they would choose,” Venti says, shrugging his shoulders with a smile.

Truth be told, you don’t really have a favorite element out of the seven (eight?) elements. You find the elements useful in their own ways, even if they’re paired with another element. That, and you don’t want the men to start bickering with each other the minute you choose a specific element that isn’t theirs.

You tuck your hands into your shorts pockets and shrug. “I don’t have a favorite element,” you reply. “They’re all useful in many ways, and I don’t want to choose between the seven.”

“I have a better question! If you were to be blessed with a vision, what would it be and why?” Childe asks, looking at you curiously and eagerly.

You press your lips into a thin line. If you were to receive a vision, what would it be and why? That’s a good question. What vision would you get? Even if you were to choose what vision you wanted, you know it’s not up to you to choose. It’s up to Celesita to choose. You remembered how Noelle wanted an anemo vision, but instead, she was given a geo vision and was incredibly disappointed about it.

You shrug for the umpteenth time today. “I don’t know! Even if I have a specific vision in mind, it’s not up to me to make that decision, is it not?” You ask.

Zhongli nods. “That is correct. The Archons aren’t the ones that give out visions. It is Celestia that gives out visions to those who are deemed worthy in their eyes,” Zhongli replies.

You bite the inside of your cheek, nodding. So, it is confirmed. Even though you know this information already, you’re curious to see how many people there are that got the type of visions they didn’t want. Noelle didn’t want the kind of vision she was gifted by Celestia, Ningguang tried to sell hers, and Keqing tried to destroy her vision.

“Hypothetically, if you could choose your vision, what would it be?” Albedo asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You shake your head. “I have no preference in what vision I want to receive from Celestia. I believe all elements are useful and a gift regardless. But the issue is I’m not from Teyvat. Therefore, it’s not possible for me to receive a vision.”

Thoma points at Aether with his thumb. “Neither are Aether and Lumine, but they’re able to wield the seven elements,” Thoma comments.

You make a so-so gesture. “While Lumine and Aether are able to wield the seven elements, they do not possess a vision like all of you. Plus, they’re from your universe. I’m not remotely from your universe. I’m an outsider that sees everything that went down in Teyvat,” you reply, visibly cringing.

Dear, Archons. When you said that out loud, it sort of made you think twice about saying it. You have been in Teyvat for over a year now. Yet, you haven’t run into anyone that is associated with Celestia. Well, unless you count the Archons, but most of them have severed their ties with Celestia.

Wouldn’t your presence alone and knowledge about the entirety of Teyvat make you a suspicious person? You’re surprised to see that no one closely associated with Celestia has tried to reach out to you yet. Should you be on edge?

Dainsleif raises his eyebrows at you. “What’s with that look on your face?” asks Dainsleif.

You give Dainsleif a fake smile. “Oh, nothing! I’m just wondering if I would even be worthy of a vision if I were to be from Teyvat,” you mutter, rubbing the back of your neck with a sheepish smile.

“You’re worthy of everything. Vision or not, you will always be worthy in our eyes,” Ayato says, giving you a closed-eye smile.

Scaramouche snorts. “That sounds like something a parent would say to their child—” Scaramouche lets out a grunt when Aether nudges him in the stomach with a small glare.

Kazuha sighs and walks toward you, brushing the stray hair away from your face and tucking them behind your ears. “You never really answered our question about what vision you think you would get if you were to be from our world,” says Kazuha, slowly pulling his hand away from your face and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I think any element is fine with me, really. I don’t have a specific vision I want to get. I think it’d be cool if I could wield all of the elements like Aether and Lumine despite being from another universe,” you shrug.

Cyno chuckles and shakes his head. “I don’t think [Y/N] is going to be picking what kind of vision they want if we continue to ask them about it. Either they don’t have a preference, or they do have an element in mind but are dodging the question to save our feelings,” Cyno comments.

You open your mouth to reply, but Tighnari pats your head and gives you a smile. “That’s enough questioning [Y/N] for today. Besides, what does it mean if [Y/N] were to get a vision?” Tighnari asks, turning to look at the men around you.

Kaveh raises his eyebrows. “Uh, care to rephrase that?” asks Kaveh, propping his hands on his hips.

Al Haitham rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure Tighnari is wondering if [Y/N], someone who doesn’t belong in our universe, were to get a vision, would it mean that [Y/N] is now part of our universe? If so, what would happen to their existence in their world?” Al Haitham interjects.

Yeah, what would happen if you were to get a vision or become part of the men’s world? Would your existence in your universe be erased, or would you turn into a fictional character in your world? Many questions are running through your mind, and it’s starting to make you feel dizzy and get a headache.

Pierro sighs. “We can’t question something we don’t have the answers to. Now, we either finish the sparring session, or we finish it here for today,” says Pierro.

Gorou runs his hands through his hair and wipes the sweat off his forehead. “Let’s finish it here for today.”

Since that day, you can’t help but feel strange. It’s almost like something or someone is constantly looming over your shoulders, watching your every move. Everything was normal, but at the same time, it didn’t feel as normal as it should be. If that makes sense. You’re sprawled out on the grass in Mondstadt, lying in the tree’s shade. The cool breeze almost lulls you to sleep when a twig snapping from a distance wakes you up.

You sit up and rub your eye, looking at your surroundings. You didn’t see anyone or anything that stepped on a twig. Maybe it was an animal that stepped on the twig, causing it to snap while you were falling asleep under the tree’s shade in Mondstadt. You did notice that there weren’t any signs of life around you— animals, you mean. No signs of birds, squirrels, and boars.

You get up from the ground and dust the dirt and grass off your clothes. The teapot is a few feet from where you’re sitting, and you don’t want to walk toward it. Not when you feel like there are eyes staring at the back of your head, burning holes into your skull if it could. You grab an apple, gripping it hard. There’s no weapon you can use, so you might as well use an apple as self-defense if anything happens.

You clear your throat. “Xiao?” You call out.

Xiao appears before you, his arms over his chest. “You called?” Xiao raises his eyebrows at you.

A wave of relief washes over you. You wrap your arms around his and lean against him while he wraps his arms around your waist. “Can you escort me back to the abode? I feel like someone’s watching me, and I don’t feel safe,” you whisper into his ears.

Xiao tightens his grip around your waist and nods. “Of course,” Xiao murmurs.

You and Xiao walk to the Serenitea Pot, watching your surroundings while trying not to make it obvious. You tighten your grip around Xiao’s arm the closer you two are approaching the floating teapot. The feeling of someone staring holes into the back of your head remains as you and Xiao enter the teapot.

Once your and Xiao step into the teapot, you sigh in relief and relax in his arms. Xiao continues to have an iron grip around your waist while walking to the estate. You feel safe in the abode, knowing there are twenty-five men that are ready to protect you no matter what. No one can get to you, no matter who or what they are. Xiao closes the door to the estate and locks the door, one arm remaining around your waist.

“Oh! So that’s where you went, Xiao!” Itto’s voice booms throughout the estate, startling you and Xiao.

Xiao reluctantly releases you from his grip, ignoring Itto’s comment. You give Xiao a smile and give him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you. Xiao looks away, his eyes focusing on the wooden floor while his cheeks slowly turn pink.

“You disappeared so suddenly! I was starting to worry that Itto did something to offend you,” Heizou comments, getting off the couch.

Aether smiles at you and bounces over to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders while resting his chin on your head. “How was Mondstadt? You said you were going to relax under the tree in Mondstadt, and you were gone for about half an hour,” says Aether, twirling your hair around his index finger.

Venti’s eyes light up. “Oh! Were you relaxing in Windrise? The weather is nice today! I heard through the grapevines that the breeze is nice today,” Venti says, smiling widely while rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

You nod in agreement. “The weather and breeze felt nice in Mondstadt today! Although my time in Mondstadt was cut short, unfortunately,” you say, leaning against Aether.

“Oh? And how was your time in Mondstadt cut short?” asks Kaeya, sitting on the armrest while gazing at you curiously.

That’s your cue to tell the men what happened in Mondstadt. You were having a lovely day in Mondstadt, relaxing in the shade underneath a tree. You nearly dozed off to sleep when the peaceful, quiet air was rudely interrupted by the sound of twigs snapping. At first, you wanted to assume that it was probably a boar or a squirrel that stepped on the twig.

To your dismay, there weren’t any animals around you to confirm that the twig snapping was from an animal stepping on it while scurrying around. You went on about how you wanted to walk to the Serenitea pot after your alone time was interrupted. Still, the feeling of something or someone staring holes into the back of your head made you rethink your decision. You didn’t want to risk anything, so you called for Xiao to help you, and thus the Adeptus shows up almost immediately when you call out his name.

“Oh, so that’s why Xiao disappeared so suddenly!” Thoma murmurs, stroking his chin.

Zhongli places his hand on your shoulder and gives them a squeeze. “You did the right thing of calling out to Xiao when you knew something felt off. We’re glad that both you and Xiao were able to return to the abode without any issues,” says Zhongli.

“Yeah, I am too. The only thing that bothers me is that I’m not sure if it’s something or someone that’s watching my every move. It’s unsettling not knowing who or what it is,” you shudder.

Dainsleif approaches you and tucks your hair behind your ears. “You should get some rest in your room,” Dainsleif murmurs.

You nod and give them a small smile before walking upstairs to your room. “Wake me up when dinner’s ready! I’m not sure how long I’ll be asleep,” you announce from over your shoulders.

“Don’t worry, we will!” Gorou replies as you slowly make your way up the stairs.

The minute you walk into your room, you shut the door behind you, plop on your bed, and close your eyes. Whatever was watching your every move, you really hoped that it was a curious hilichurl or a mitachurl because you were not ready to face the person or thing that was watching you. You soon fall into a dreamless sleep, tossing and turning in your bed.

Meanwhile, downstairs, the men are gathered in the living room, trying to figure out the strange feeling you had while you were in Mondstadt before calling out for Xiao. This was the first time you mentioned feeling eyes staring at the back of your head while you were alone in Mondstadt.

Diluc looks at the Adeptus, his arms over his chest. “When you arrived at Mondstadt after [Y/N] called your name, did you see anything out of the ordinary?” Diluc asks, raising his eyebrows at the Yaksha.

Xiao shakes his head in response. Xiao was focused on you and only you. He didn’t have time to closely survey his and your surrounding. The minute you told Xiao that you wanted him to escort you back to the abode, Xiao was set on taking you back to the estate without a second thought.

Childe hums and taps on his chin. “Xiao wasn’t gone for a long time. It was, perhaps, less than five minutes.” Childe interjects.

“That means he most likely didn’t see the person or thing that was staring at [Y/N],” Tighnari sighs, his ears flattening on his head with dismay.

Al Haitham closes his book and gets up from his seat. “We’ll need to keep track of [Y/N]’s whereabouts when they leave the abode alone. We can’t risk anything happening to them if they were to leave by themselves,” Al Haitham says.

Kaveh rolls his eyes and shoots a glare in Al Haitham’s direction. “Wow, Al Haitham! Where did you get that idea from!? Oh, yeah! Me!” Kaveh hisses, propping his hands on his hips with a huff of breath.

Al Haitham’s about to interject when the sound of your bedroom door opening interrupts him. You walk down the stairs, eyes bleary from your short nap. Your nap lasted less than an hour, and you feel like you were run over by a sumpter beast after getting smacked in the face by a mitachurl.

“Why are you awake so early? We thought you were going to take a nap,” Ayato murmurs, watching you collapse on the small sofa while rubbing your eyes.

You grumble before resting the back of your head on the armrest. “I was, but I kept tossing and turning in my sleep,” you reply.

Gorou perks up and looks at you shyly. “Do you want someone to cuddle with? If so, I volunteer to snuggle with you while you take a nap!” Gorou offers, raising his hand.

You hum and reach forward, gesturing for Gorou to come closer. Gorou smiles widely and sprints over in your direction. You pull Gorou down on the sofa next to you and latch yourself onto his body, snaking your arms around his waist and snuggling up against the Inazuman man. Gorou wraps both his arms around you, kissing the side of your head while ignoring the muttering from the men.

You peek at the men, your right cheek smushed against Gorou’s chest. “Anyway, what were you guys talking about before I came downstairs?” You ask.

“In Mondstadt, did you happen to see the person or thing that was making you feel uncomfortable?” Cyno asks, sitting on the ottoman before you and Gorou.

You press your lips into a thin line and shake your head. “Sadly, I didn’t see the person or thing that was staring at the back of my head. I was tempted to search for the person or creature that was staring at me, but in all honesty, I was scared to do it. Hence, why I called out to Xiao,” you reply, gesturing toward Xiao’s direction.

Albedo hums, tossing his sketchpad on the coffee table. “That’s unfortunate but understandable. You had a bad feeling, and the first thing you did was call Xiao because out of all of us, Xiao will be by your side in a heartbeat when you call his name,” Albedo murmurs.

Kazuha looks at the clock on the wall. It’s about two hours before dinner, and yet you’re still awake, cuddling Gorou on the sofa. Kazuha crosses his arms over his chest and smiles at you. “Since you’re awake, do you want to have dinner now?” Kazuha asks.

You hum to yourself before sitting up, trying to see if you’re hungry or not. Your stomach doesn’t feel full, nor does it feel empty. It’s a feeling you can’t describe— how does one explain the feeling of hunger?

You purse your lips. “I’m not hungry, but I’m not full either…” you trail off, stroking your chin. “But I can eat! Let’s have dinner now!” You nod.

Baizhu approaches you and stands before you, helping you get up from the couch while smiling. “Sweetheart, if you don’t mind me asking, are you still having problems with sleeping? If so, I can get you melatonin, and you can take it before going to bed,” Baizhu offers.

You nod and let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, please! I haven’t been able to sleep as much as I needed, and it’s so frustrating. I kept tossing and turning in my bed, and before I knew it, it was almost five in the morning, and Thoma was already awake!” You say, pressing your forehead against Baizhu’s chest.

Scaramouche pops up beside you and props his arm on your shoulders. “Make sure the melatonin is strong because look at the bags under their eyes,” Scaramouche snorts, poking your undereye.

You wince and smack Scaramouche’s hand away from your face with a scowl. Baizhu chuckles and shakes his head before walking off. You turn to look at Scaramouche, who’s smirking down at you. You stick your tongue out at him before walking off, leaving a cackling Scaramouche behind.

Not long later, you and the men are gathered around the dining table, eating and chatting with each other. Dinner is lively, and everyone is cracking jokes, telling stories, and enjoying each other’s company. Who knew that dinner was going to be the last time the men saw you before your sudden disappearance overnight.

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear the gated door open. The cloaked being steps into the room— would it even be stepping when they’re hovering above the ground? You stumble up from the ground and press yourself against the wall, staring at the cloaked figure warily.

“[Y/N], we have heard so much about you since your appearance in Teyvat,” says the cloaked figure.

You gulp. “We? Who is we exactly?” You demand, clenching your hands into fists. “Where am I, and why did you bring me here?”

The cloaked figure continues to hover a few feet away from you, not responding to your question. The last thing you remembered after having dinner with the men was taking your melatonin before going to bed. Everyone afterward was a blur, and now here you are, somewhere you’re not familiar with and in the presence of the cloaked figure.

“You may not know who you are, but we know who you are,” says the cloaked figure.

You stare at the cloaked being blankly, blinking at it. “I don’t think you need to say that since it’s blatantly obvious, and you’re kind of repeating yourself….” you trail off, squinting at the cloaked figure.

You’re just glad that you’re not dealing with the Abyss Order, or else it would’ve been a completely different story. The cloaked figure hums before hovering in your direction, causing you to press your back against the wall and stick your leg out in front of you to keep the distance.

“Have you ever wondered what it's like for your kind to be blessed by the Celestial Gods?” it asks, leaning down to your height while remaining hovered before you.

You weren’t sure how to respond. Yes, you’re curious, but at the same time, you don’t want to give the cloaked being the answer it wants to hear. You’re a little terrified to respond because of the short distance between the two of you.

You cross your arms over your chest and look away. “Even if I was curious, why do you want to know? I don’t even know who you are or what you are,” you reply, squeezing your eyes shut.

The cloaked being moves away from you and chuckles. Now that you think about it, the way it sounds when it laughs and speaks reminds you of when you were a child. You would talk and scream into an electric fan, making you sound robotic. That’s what it sounds like. It sounds robotic, but you know the being beneath the cloak isn’t an android because you don’t think there are any robotic beings in Teyvat. Unless there is one, you and everyone else are unaware of its existence.

“Answer the question,” the cloaked being hisses, grabbing your face and forcing you to look at it.

You yank your head out from the being’s grasp and duck your head, eyes remaining shut. You hear something fall to the ground, which you assume is the cloak that the being was once wearing. You crack your eyes open out of curiosity, and when you look up, you nearly do a double-take.

The being standing in front of you continues to hover. Its body is pure white. It did not look human due to the eight eyes on one face and the lack of a mouth. It doesn’t even have hair on its head, but it does have long nails that resemble the talons of a hawk. The creature before you blink at you, tilting its head to the side. Seeing eight eyes focusing on you and blinking at you makes you feel disturbed and creeped out.

“You remind me of those biblically accurate angels, but only fewer eyes, and there aren’t any feathers,” you mutter to yourself. “What are you? Clearly, you’re not an angel.”

The being cackles, its mouth open, and its abnormally long tongue slithers out of its mouth. You stare at it, horrified yet morbidly intrigued. The tongue and the way the mouth opens remind you of Venmon.

“I, and many others, are what you mortals call us the Celestial Gods,” it says.

“You? Celestial Gods? I’m sorry, but I imagined beings that look…. Human,” you trailed off, swallowing the lump in your throat.

The ‘Celestial God’ gazes at you and crosses its arms over its chest. “Perhaps you need a refresher? Your dear Archons have many forms, do they not? If they can have many forms of themselves, then are Celestial Gods not allowed to have more than one form as well?” If it had eyebrows, it would be raising its eyebrows at you.

Crap. How could you let that slip from your mind so easily? It has a point. “Well, you’re not wrong about that,” you mutter.

“Now, answer my question, [Y/N]. Have you ever wondered if you, someone not of this universe, could be blessed by the Celestial Gods?” asks the Celestial God.

You shake your head rapidly. “No, no! I have not, actually! Being blessed by the Celestial God as someone that’s not from this universe doesn’t seem to be fair for those who are from your universe,” you say, clearing your throat.

Meanwhile, the men are scrambling around Teyvat, searching for you. It has been days since your disappearance, and the men hit countless dead ends. You weren’t in Mondstadt, Liyue, Sumeru, or Inazuma. Heck, they even tried Dragonspine and the Chasm, but there weren’t any traces of your presence.

“How did they disappear overnight without a trace?” Dottore growls, grabbing his hair at the roots, and yanks at it.

The men are going crazy, searching every part of Teyvat they can think of, only to come out empty-handed. You’re nowhere to be found, and citizens from all over Teyvat have never seen you step into the regions. Ningguang, Jean, the Raiden Shogun, and Nahida have never seen you in their respective regions. No one has seen you, nor have they got a clue about where you could possibly be. Countless sleepless nights and dead ends are catching up to everyone, and it’s driving them up the walls.

Pantalone lets out an exasperated sigh, running his fingers through his hair. “This is getting us nowhere. We have searched every nook and cranny for them, and there’s no trace of their presence in these regions,” Pantalone grumbles, clenching his jaws.

“It’s not possible that they could’ve gotten up in the middle of the night and left the abode without us knowing, is it?” Gorou asks nervously, his ears twitching at every little sound around him and the men.

Pierro shakes his head. “It’s not possible because the doors and windows are all locked. If they were to leave the abode alone, we would’ve known. Their shoes are still at the abode as well,” Pierro replies, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What if they were, I don’t know, imprisoned somewhere? We’ve checked every place on Teyvayt besides other citizens’ homes and prisons,” Aether says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Capitano lets out an amused huff, almost sounding like laughter. “It’s a possibility, but I wouldn’t guarantee it because many citizens in Teyvat we have come across said they didn’t see [Y/N]. Even those who work at night have not seen [Y/N]. That includes the authorities,” Capitano interjects.

Where are you exactly, and are you safe? That’s all they want to know is whether you’re safe or not. Their first priority is finding you and making sure you’re safe. But since there are almost zero traces of your presence (and maybe existence), there’s no way for them to know your situation.

Your body is aching, you’re tired, and you can barely stand for yourself. You collapse to the ground before the Celestial God, sweat dripping down your face while your body shakes with every breath you take. Your head is hurting, and your ears are ringing. You can taste blood in your mouth as you gulp for air, swallowing your saliva.

The Celestial God laughs, hovering toward your pitiful form, stopping before you. “Do you think you can take on a Celestial God unprepared and untrained in combat?” asks the Celestial God.

“I never said I could. You came charging at me out of nowhere,” you hissed, spitting at the ground and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

You grab the sword nearby and stab it into the cement ground, using the sword as leverage to help you off the ground. Dear Archons, your legs feel so weak. They’re trembling the longer you stand up. You just want to go home and be in the arms of your boyfriends, but instead, you’re fighting a Celestial God for your freedom.

You can’t help but find it amusing. You didn’t expect to be put on some trial against a Celestial God for your freedom until you were thrust into it. You went to bed, safe and sound one night after dinner with the men, and then you woke up to being in the arms of a cloaked being, taken somewhere you don’t even know. It was weird, and it was sudden.

Before you could scream, thrash around in the being’s arms, and look at your surroundings to see where it was taking you, the cloaked being covers your face with its hands and knocks you out. And that is how you end up in some strange dungeon imprisonment of some sort. You’re not sure where exactly, but you know it’ll be impossible for people to find you.

“Now, are you going to release me from imprisonment, or do we have to do this that hard way?” You ask, gripping the handle of the sword so tightly that your nails are digging into the palm of your hands.

The Celestial God tilts its head to the side. “Imprisonment? You see this as imprisonment; we Celestial Gods see it as a test of worthiness,” says the Celestial God.

You scoff. “Well, that’s a stupid name. I’m not saying this to tick you off, but it really is a stupid name. You might want to reconsider the name of the test,” you say.

The Celestial God crosses its arm over its chest. “Well, what do you think we should rename it then?”

You let out a ‘pfft’ in response and shrug your shoulders. This is getting you nowhere, and you want to get out of this dungeon of a room and return to the abode and be in the arms of your boyfriends, not help rename some stupid trial name for Celestial Gods. Quite frankly, the thing in front of you doesn’t even look like a Celestial God.

“Are you really a Celestial God, or are you lying to intimidate me?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at the being before you. “The way you act and the way you speak doesn’t seem like something a Celestial God would do.”

“Oh? And have you met a Celestial God to make that kind of judgment?” asks the once-cloaked being.

You purse your lips and shake your head. “I have not, but I know a Celestial God wouldn’t have a stupid name for a trial to see if I’m worthy of a vision. Listen, I’m going to cut to the chase because I want to get out of here, but I’m not worthy of a vision because I’m not from this universe. And even if I were to be from Teyvat, I wouldn’t get a vision because people with certain visions have similar backgrounds, struggles, stories, whatever you call it.” You sigh, tossing the sword to the concrete.

The Celestial God cocks its head to the side, almost reminding you of an owl. It was almost disturbing, especially with the eight eyes staring into your soul. It’s like the Celestial God is telling you to continue what you were saying before throwing the sword to the ground out of exhaustion and frustration.

“You know what? Here,” you crawl over to the sword and grab it from the ground before handing the Celestial God the sword, “why don’t you finish me off, and then we can go our separate ways!” You clap your hands.

The being before you stare at the sword in its hands and then looks at you wordlessly. You plop on the ground and point at your neck, signaling for the Celestial God to end you right then and there. You can fight back, yes, but against a Celestial God? Someone who doesn’t have a vision, who has never picked up a weapon in their entire life— well, that’s a lie, you have picked up a weapon, and the men have trained you to use various weapons. Still, either way, you can’t go up against a higher being.

What’s the point of fighting the Celestial God? The being continues to stare at you before its body starts shaking with laughter. You stare at the being before rolling off the ground with a sigh. Fine, if it’s not willing to finish you off, you might as well do it yourself, right? You’re not actually going to do it. You’re bluffing. You just want to get out and go home.

You squat and stare at the thing in front of you. It was still distracted. You would think the Celestial God can focus on many things at once with those eight eyes of theirs, but it’s too busy cackling at you. You count to three in your head, and once you reach the number three, you sprint toward the Celestial God and tackle it to the ground, catching it off guard. You grab the nearest rock on the ground and begin using it as a weapon instead of the one the Celestial God dropped on the floor after you (somehow) successfully tackled it to the ground.

Before you can smash a rock over the Celestial being’s head, it blasts you off of it, sending you flying across the room. You slide on your back and quickly roll over to get on your feet. You run toward the sword on the ground, grab it and try slashing at the God. The Celestial God grabs the blade and snaps it in half, leaving you dumbfounded.

You bring the broken sword up to your face. “Huh. Well, shit,” you mutter. You look at the Celestial God and purse your lips, watching it crush the blade into little pieces and sprinkle the pieces on the ground like sprinkles on a cupcake.

The Celestial God looks at you, the eight eyes blinking one at a time. Dear Archons, it’s so disturbing. Without thinking, you chuck the broken sword at the Celestial God’s face before dashing out of the dungeon. You curse to yourself and smack your forehead. The damn door to the dungeon was open the entire time, and you didn’t think once to run out of that? The Celestial God is at your tail, reaching forward to grab you.

You burst through another door, looking back to see how far the being is close to getting you. That was the first mistake you made because the minute you saw how close that thing was, you didn’t check to see where you were going, and now you’re free-falling from the sky. It turns out you were in Celestia the entire time— if it weren’t so obvious since you were in the presence of the Celestial God. It technically kidnapped you, but it doesn’t matter now that you’re plunging to Teyvat.

On Teyvat, Venti stands up and squints at the sky, shielding his eyes from the sun. “What’s that falling from the sky?” Venti asks.

Scaramouche yawns and stretches his arms. “I hope it’s a stupid Celestial God,” Scaramouche comments, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk stretching across his face.

Heizou stares at the dot in the sky that is getting seemingly bigger. “That’s not actually a Celestial God falling, is it?” asks Heizou, refusing to take his eyes off it.

Dainsleif’s eyes widened once the falling dot got bigger and bigger. Dainsleif sprints toward the dot, opening a portal before him and jumping through it.

“I don’t think now is the time to be showing off his powers,” Childe mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

The portal opens in the air, and Dainsleif jumps out from the celestial portal. He tackles the dot in the air and opens another portal before disappearing with the dot.

Kaeya props his hands on his hips. “I don’t think it’s a Celestial God that’s falling from the sky. If it were to be a Celestial God, I think Dainsleif would be sitting and watching with a bowl of popcorn in his hands,” says Kaeya.

“Why am I getting the feeling of deja vu?” Thoma mutters, stroking his chin.

A large portal opens up before the twenty-four men, and Dainsleif steps out from the portal with you in his arms. Your head is resting against Dainsleif’s chest, and you’re clutching something against your chest. Dainsleif helps you stand, keeping his arms around your waist while you slump forward.

“I hate Celestial Gods,” you whisper.

Scaramouche lets out a burst of boisterous laughter. “Welcome to the club,” Scaramouche comments.

Diluc tries to peek at your hands. “What do you have there?” asks Diluc, walking up to you and Dainsleif.

Dainslief sighs and tilts his head forward. “I believe the questions that should be asked is whether [Y/N] is okay or not and how they end up in this situation,” Dainsleif comments, frowning at the redhead.

You wave one hand around while clutching the object with the other. “I’m fine, but after coming face-to-face with the Celestial God, I don’t think I’ll ever recover,” you mutter, shuddering. “Anyway, to answer the other part of Dainsleif’s curiosity, I was in a dungeon on Celestia! Crazy, right? I was put through some trial to see if I was worthy of a vision, and yeah.” You nod, tapping your fingers on the object in your hand.

The twenty-five men’s eyes fall on your hand. You clear your throat and hold up the object for everyone to see.

“I didn’t think it was possible, but apparently, it is because I now officially have a vision!” You squeak, giving them an uncertain smile.

“How is that possible?” Al Haitham mutters, grabbing your vision from your hands and inspecting it closely.

Kaveh scoffs and narrows his eyes at Al Haitham. “What? Did you think [Y/N] wasn’t worthy of having a vision, Al Haitham?” Kaveh demands.

Al Haitham slowly looks up from the vision and stares at Kaveh blankly. Kaveh props his hands on his hips, waiting for the Scribe to answer him. Al Haitham rolls his eyes and hands the vision back to you. You stare at the vision in your hands, unsure of what else to say. What were you supposed to do, really? Thank Celestia for granting you a vision? You’re not from any of the seven regions in Teyvat, and yet here you are with your very own vision that is in the shape of something you have never seen before. It’s evident that people from different parts of Teyvat have a specific shape of vision for the respective regions they’re from (or from the area when and where they received it), but yours is different.

“What even is that shape?” Itto asks, grabbing the vision from your hands to inspect it.

You shrug and lean against Dainsleif, closing your eyes. “Don’t ask me. I don’t know the answers, unfortunately. But I’m surprised that none of you have said anything about the element of the vision,” you reply, cracking one eye open.

“I think they could’ve given you the same element as mine. Mine is cooler than whatever they gave you,” you hear one man huff.

You hear a strained cough. “Excuse me? What do you mean your element is cooler than mine?”

“Let’s be honest here. That element is useless, and I don’t think it’ll be useful to [Y/N].”

“Hey! Don’t be mean! Every element is useful! There are no useless elements out there!” You see one of the men nudge the other with a glare.

You press your lips into a thin line before grabbing the vision from Itto’s hands. “Let’s go back to the abode and discuss this. We shouldn’t be doing this out in the open when that creepy Celestial God can snatch me up at any moment,” you say, pocketing your vision.

“It snatched you up overnight at the abode while everyone was sleeping.” Pierro comments, raising his eyebrows at you.

You grab Dainsleif’s wrist and pull him toward the floating teapot while the men follow along. “Right, I forgot about that.” You laugh sheepishly. “While we talk about my newly obtained vision, let’s talk about installing surveillance in the abode, just in case it happens again.”

You can’t help but feel the glass vision in your pocket. Why did you get a vision, and what’s the point of you getting a vision when you’re not of this universe? Everyone in Teyvat didn’t need to fight a Celestial God to obtain their vision. They obtained it in many ways, or it didn’t have a master, and the person somehow activated it. Why did you have to come face-to-face with a Celestial being to obtain one?

Many questions are swirling in your head, and before you know it, you’re sitting on the couch in the abode with your vision on the coffee table in front of you. Seeing the vision itself almost feels like a mockery. You can’t throw it away, or else you’ll lose your ambition and possible critical memories despite having it for less than an hour.

“Looks like I’m stuck with you forever,” you mutter.

The door to the abode closes. You look up to see the others walking over to where you’re sitting, all eyes glued to your vision on the table.

“Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?” Tighnari asks, sitting across from you, grabbing the vision and holding it in the air to see if it is real.

You puff your cheeks and exhale through your nostrils. “Start from the beginning?” You tap on your chin.

Cyno nods. “Yes, start from the beginning. After you tell us what went down while you were in the presence of the Celestial God, we’ll try to figure out what led to you getting a vision,” Cyno explains.

You sit back, press your back against the couch and close your eyes. Nothing special happened to you while you were in Celestia other than being forcibly taken from your bedroom and put in a dungeon. This turn of events was not only sudden, but it was unexpected. Now that you have a vision, what exactly does that mean for you? What will happen to your existence in your universe? Will it be erased, or will you become part of the fictional world you loved?

Note: I was going to title this story "Prisoner of Celestia," but it didn't feel right, and the overall story isn't focused on that. So I went with the current title instead. Also, I didn't specify which vision the reader got because I want you all to choose what element it is! Next week, there will be a new series, but it's for Honkai Star Rail instead of Genshin. Not sure how that's going to turn out, but I've had this idea in my head for a few days now, and I want to get it out of my head and post it soon. Therefore, there will be maybe two updates (the new series and mini-fic for the isekai'd!reader series) next week. We'll see how that goes. To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @xyji, @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

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670 notes · View notes

judebelle · 6 months

Note

reader playing for the females Barca and during a game where halfway through a game she hurt her knee or got injured and is torn because she was the youngest of the team! And Pedri getting worried and the guys have to calm him down after seeing you get out on the stretcher! Ty <3

your pain is my pain - p.g. x reader

a/n : keep these creative reqs comingg!!!

cw : swearing, angst, injury, fluff

wc : 1.6k

pairing : pedri gonzalez x fem!reader

---

the spotlight shone down on you. as the game unfolded, your exceptional speed and agility became the focal point of the match, captivating the audience with your electrifying bursts of speed across the field.

with every stride, you showcased an impressive combination of skill and determination that left spectators in awe. in the blink of an eye, you skillfully maneuvered past defenders, leaving your opponents astonished in your tracks.

as you approached the goal, the anticipation in the stadium reached an all time high. in a swift and calculated move, you ripped a powerful shot that soared past the goalkeeper, finding its place in the back of the net.

the crowd erupted in cheers, celebrating not only the goal but also the extraordinary talent of you, y/n l/n.

running towards the corner flag, your fingers drew together in the shape of goggles before your brought them up to frame your eyes. you stood in front of the crowd, dedicating your goal to your boyfriend, pedro.

the crowd chanted your name as your teammates jumped up on your shoulders, arms, back, shoving you left and right in congratulations. you gave one last look to the v.i.p. stands above. pedro blew you a kiss and cheered for you.

---

you were nearing the halftime whistle, and aitana had struck the ball towards you. her perfectly executed pass met your quick feet as you travelled up the pitch.

the crowd roared as you sprinted faster and faster, struggling to keep up with your own legs.

however, the cheers in the stadium quickly turned to shouts of concern as you were tackled by an opposing defender. with a loud yelp, sure to have been caught by the microphones on the sidelines. you suddenly grimaced in pain and crumbled to the ground.

the whistle blew, and the passionate energy from the fans was overshadowed by a hushed silence.

medical personnel rushed to your side as you clutched your knee in agony. you rolled side to side with gritted teeth and eyes shut tight. the atmosphere in the stadium became somber. you felt a cooling spray touch the burning skin of your knee while your teammates surrounded you. some medics moved you and lifted you off the cold hard turf. you were laid on a stretcher.

as you were carefully transferred off the field, you rested your palm over your eyes to block the inescapable sun. you continued to hiss softly in pain on your journey off the pitch.

tears collected in your eyes before the sunlight slowly disappeared and you were rushed through the tunnel.

---

pedro's eyes were fixed intently on the field as he witnessed the intense battle between your team and the opponents. you had been weaving through the defenders with exceptional agility, showing off your determination on the pitch.

the crowd roared with excitement as you made a breakthrough, but the thrill turned to dread in an instant. an opposing defender executed a fierce tackle, sending you sprawling to the ground with an audible yelp.

pedro's heart clenched as the distressing sound rang in his ears. "shit." he whispered before he leapt to his feet, unable to contain the surge of worry that washed over him. his barcelona teammates and close friends, sensing his escalating anxiety, rushed to his side.

"hey, pedro bro, she's tough, she'll be okay," reassured pablo, placing a calming hand on pedro's shoulder.

"yeah, remember that time she sprained her ankle and came back even stronger?" added fermin, attempting to offer words of encouragement.

but pedro's eyes remained glued to the field, the drama unfolding before him. each passing moment felt like an eternity, growing concern and worry etched on his face. not even the reassurances and comforting gestures of his friends managed to anchor him down.

if he was able to run onto the pitch to see you, he would've been by your side already.

he watched as you were stretchered off. your hand was covering your eyes, but he could make out the pained expression on your face. pedro felt the air knock out of his lungs at the sight of it.

"y/n!" he called out hopelessly, knowing no matter what he did, you were still hurt. he rushed out of the stands, muttering 'sorry' and 'excuse me' whenever he could.

cameras were pointed at him now, but he couldn't care less. all he needed was to be by your side. his feet quickly moved as he descended the stairs of the stadium.

with that, he ran into the tunnel to follow you, urgency written on his features.

he followed the men wheeling you towards a room before a nurse shut it and turned to him in surprise.

"sir, you can't be here right now-"

"i need to see her, please. is she okay? what happened?" his chest heaved from both running to try to see you and the worry settling in his heart.

the woman looked down in guilt before mumbling. "i'm very sorry sir, it looks quite serious. you'll have to wait out here until she's checked up and possibly operated on. it might take a while, are you sure you want to-"

"yes! yes, its fine. i'll sit here." he felt bad for cutting her off again, but it was like tunnel vision. the only thing on his mind was you.

---

it felt like years had passed before the door had creaked open and a nurse came out.

pedro was slouched in the same chair he sat in. she had a soft smile on her face which soothed his raging thoughts.

his back straightened and his head perked up, hoping that he would be allowed to see you.

"she's been asking for you, sir. you can go in now" she spoke, her smile reached her eyes as his eyes lit up.

"thank you."

pedro quickly raised himself up off the chair and hurried towards the door after shooting the nurse a thankful look.

he pushed the door open to see you laying on a hospital bed. you were changed out of your kit and into a gown, and your leg was slung up off the bed with a cast on your knee.

pedro took notice to the two crutches waiting for you against the wall beside you.

"jesus.." he uttered, eyes scanning over your frame on the bed, circles under your eyes. a heartbeat monitor was beeping steadily beside you and it was driving him mad.

he quickly ushered over beside you and engulfed your cold hand in his. he noticed your eyes didn't light up the way they usually did as his thumb rubbed over yours.

he didn't know what to say. he couldn't ask you 'what's wrong?', because that was idiotic. obviously you were upset, but there was something heavier lingering in the air.

without warning, you blurted out,

"i tore my acl. i'm out for the rest of the season."

as soon as the blunt words left your mouth, tears entered your eyes. you bit your lip as if saying that sentence physically hurt you. of course it did. football was your life. it hurts to have something you are so passionate about be stolen from you so fast.

pedro knew how it felt. he had just come back to barcelona after two months because of an injury. of course, he knew he would return after a short while. his injury wasn't as career threatening as yours. players don't usually come back in the same form after any acl injury, let alone tearing it fully.

"ai, mi pobre chica..." (ai, my poor girl...)

he kissed his teeth and his free hand went to gently stroke your face, moving your baby hairs out of the way.

his eyes were a soft reflection of yours, as if he was the one laying in this bed.

you finally let the tears escape, choked sobs escaping from your chapped lips. his hand left your face and joined the other to completely grasp your shaking ones.

"dont cry, mi amor. it will be okay. it will all work out in the end."

pedro's attempts to console you were banished in the sorrow of the small room and the soft beeping of your heart monitor.

but they were forgotten when he saw the tears stream down your cheeks and the pained expression etched onto the face he loved so dearly.

his attempts to console you disappeared when he felt his own warm tears dripping down his jaw and onto the hands that held onto yours tightly.

he didn't usually cry, but something about seeing you do so so hopelessly when he knew he couldn't soothe your pain hurt him.

maybe it was the fact that he played the sport as well, and knew how much it hurt. he could empathize with you and could resonate with the pain that you felt.

maybe it was because you were the first person he truly cared for, and witnessing you lose something so precious to you was like mourning the loss himself.

or maybe it was because his love for you ran so deep it seeped into his bones and into the fibre of his being.

every ache you felt, he carried within himself, your shared sorrows silently uniting your hearts in an unyielding bond.

he felt his breath hitch when your hands stopped squeezing his, falling unresponsive in a dejected trance.

he pried open his lips, the ones that so eagerly wanted to connect with yours. his voice shook,

"your pain is my pain."

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flowerandblood · 8 months

Text

The Vanity and Variability

[ Jane Austen • Aemond x Baratheon • female ]

[ warnings: angst, mention of trauma, violence ]

[ description: Despite coming from a family with royal blood, Aemond is forced because of his brother's debts to choose one of the daughters of the famously wealthy general, Borros Baratheon, as his wife to save his family from bankruptcy. When he arrives to make his choice he is distraught and discouraged, made all the more so by watching from the sidelines his youngest daughter, who seems more intrigued by his dog than her possible future husband. Slow burn, sexual tension, regency and Jane Austen prose vibe, vain, self-righteous Aemond. ]

A story which is an alternative universe of The Impossbile Choice taking place in regency times (1805-1815). The characters are all the same as in the main series, however, for obvious reasons they will behave differently and experience things differently from medieval times. You can read this without having to delve into the main series.

Aemond & Miss Baratheon & Vhagar Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

The Targaryen family name was one of the most famous and respected in London. His father's great-grandfather had been a duke, so royal blood flowed in them, and their family estate had been part of the kingdom for centuries.

He grew up with a sense of his own uniqueness, which his grandfather, his mother's father, Otto, constantly reminded him and his siblings of, remarking on their upbringing, their gait, the way they spoke. From an early age, everything they did was to testify to their origins and properly represent them to the world.

They were not allowed to run or shout, they were not allowed to eat with their hands, keep their elbows on the table, swear or laugh loudly. He was not allowed to play with other children, instead he was expected to keep reading and expanding his knowledge, and at the age of twelve he could already speak French and Italian as well.

And then, during one of the fencing training sessions with his nephew that his grandfather had forced him to do, he lost his left eye. Luke, enraged at his loss swung his sword as he managed to pull off his protection and the blade sliced his left cheek in half.

Having learned that he was not allowed to cry or scream, he howled and sobbed into his pillow all night, praying that his grandfather would not hear him.

Neither his position nor his wealth could change his appearance.

Although his father had a first-born son, his elder brother Aegon, everyone knew that he would have preferred the family estate to pass to his eldest daughter after his death, his only child, whom he had fathered with his first wife, who had died.

They had spent their entire lives in the shadow of his affections for her, simply existing in large palatial spaces, unsure if they were of any use to anyone at all. Knowing that he would inherit nothing, that he had only his name and his disfigured, ugly face, he hid in the world of literature, disappearing for hours in the library thus forgetting the woes of his life.

He knew that eventually he would be forced to marry a woman of similar status to himself.

When he first met the Countess Rivers, a wealthy widow much older than him, he thought she could become his wife, he even suggested it to his grandfather. He, however, laughed at his suggestion, saying that this woman had only married the Count for money and had tricked her way into his bed and then deprived him of his life for sure.

That didn't stop him, after a few grand balls in London, from locking himself away with her in seclusion and enjoying all that was female flesh and female fulfilment, feeling for the first time that he was not a repulsive child, but a man.

Life, however, made a mockery of him again when it turned out that Aegon had lost such large sums of money at cards over the years that, despite the fact that his brother was now a grown man who had a wife, Otto had beaten him before his eyes with a cane as if he were a small child again.

Aegon wailed and whimpered as he laid on the ground, writhing in pain, still drunk, and his grandfather hissed between hits that he was their ruin, their greatest misfortune.

Then his grandfather presented everyone at the evening meal with the solution to the problem they faced.

"Borros Baratheon is an extremely wealthy general with as many as five daughters ready to marry, he is known for his immense love for them, so I am confident that their dowries will be appropriate and also, if we play it right, he will give us a loan so that we can pay our immediate debts. Aemond, you will travel to Chelsfield to rest a little and choose your future spouse during this time." He said lightly, and everyone around him froze.

He heard Aegon's loud, amused laughter as he clapped his hands, the sound echoing throughout the room in the uncomfortable silence that followed.

"An excellent thought, grandfather. Right, brother? There's nothing better than to fuck a country wench." He said taking a glass of wine and raising it to his lips, their mother slammed her fist on the table, silencing him with a hiss, his wife lowered her gaze, embarrassed and ashamed.

Aemond did not listen to him or his mother. He stared at his grandfather wide-eyed, his jaw clenched, his fingers outstretched on the table rubbing against each other intensely in a nervous gesture.

"Is this supposed to be a joke?" He choked out finally, deadly serious, unable to believe what he was hearing.

His whole life, everything he'd denied himself, everything he'd learned was to serve who he was, his heritage, he hadn't been allowed to marry Alys despite her surpassing them all in stature, and now he was to choose from five simpering daughters of some village general?

His grandfather raised an eyebrow in displeasure.

"Ask your brother about that. Thanks to him we have no liquidity, we are finished. We need money, and Borros Baratheon has it. Marry one of his daughters and be happy you have plenty to choose from." He said impatiently, and Aemond got up from the table, leaving the room with a loud slam of the door against the walls.

He rushed into his room like a storm, ordering his servants not to let anyone in, and circled around his bed one way and the other, feeling like shouting, feeling like throwing something or destroying something, but he knew he couldn't do it, that it wasn't proper.

He finally knelt down in the middle of his room catching himself by his hair, burying his face in his arms and crying helplessly like a baby.

How many more humiliations did he have to endure in his life for God to decide that enough was enough?

How much more could he pray?

Why didn't God listen to him even though he went to church with his mother every Sunday, prayed in the morning and before bed with attention and focus?

Why was he not a good enough son either in the eyes of his father or God himself?

He knew there was no going back from his grandfather's decision. He knew that his mother would never defy him and his father would not take any interest in the matter even if he married a strange woman from the fair.

After a week he sat in the carriage that was to take him to Chelsfield and looked out of the window at the busy streets of London, inside sat with him Vhagar, his dog whom he had received as a gift from his mother for his tenth birthday.

She was beautiful, looking like a giant snow fox with white soft fur and a long snout. She was the only one he confided in, the only one he cried with, the only one with whom he could be weak, plaintive, whimsical, cheerful or happy.

Chelsfield was not far from London and they covered that distance in a few hours. Aemond pressed his lips together as he saw through the window a quite grand, country manor house of white brick, overgrown on all sides with ivy.

He saw a man in their army uniform step out, followed by a young boy and a whole bunch of girls in long high-waisted gowns.

He felt like throwing up at the sight of them.

When the door opened Vhagar was the first to fly out and despite him calling her she ran ahead, curious about the new smells and spaces. He felt rage when one of Lord Baratheon's daughters, who also looked to be the youngest, not yet pinning her hair into a bun, but having it partly loose, partly braided at the back of her head, ran towards her, reaching out to her.

He feared that Vhagar would bite her, unused to the sudden presence of strangers, her father thought the same, for he immediately moved towards her, rebuking her, but Vhagar only barked loudly and jumped at her, almost knocking her over.

The girl laughed out loud, catching her around the waist as if she was dancing and they both continued in such an embrace, Vhagar started sniffing her and licking her face.

He had never felt so embarrassed in his life.

Lord Baratheon greeted him with a few meaningless sentences, mentioning what an honour it was for him and that his room was ready, that he hoped he would find peace here and a bit of a break from the hustle and bustle of the city.

He figured the last thing he'd find in this place was rest.

He nodded at his words, pulling his cylinder off his head and following him through the main door to his house, escorted by the curious stares of his daughters.

When he finally locked himself into the room that was to belong to him for now, he sat down on the bed and grabbed his head, feeling like he was about to pass out. He couldn't imagine spending every evening with them, forced to talk to each of his daughters in turn.

He hated talking to strangers, he didn't have the gift to converse easily and he put his thoughts together with difficulty into full sentences, and the more he stressed about it, the worse it got.

He figured they'd tire him to death here, and he'd still have to choose which one of these silly girls to take with him and, horror of horrors, marry her, share his bed and his life with her. He shook his head at the thought, sighing heavily.

He didn't leave until the evening, terrified and discouraged, unpacking in his room, which was small by his standards. He looked out of the window and saw a rather pleasant view of the park, trees and hills.

He heard barking and noticed how the same girl who had let Vhagar lick her face in his presence ran across the grass with her, acting almost as if she were a second dog, laughing loudly, throwing her a long stick again and again.

He had never seen Vhagar in such euphoria before.

What kind of house was this?

When it was time for dinner he dressed himself in proper attire, adjusted the black ribbon in which his hair was tied, made sure his eye patch was fastened tightly enough, and went down the stairs feeling as if he was going to beheading.

As he entered the room, which he understood was the dining room, he noticed a beautifully decorated long table, a large fireplace at the end of the hall, lots of portraits and landscapes on the walls , tables and chairs all around.

Everyone stood up at the sight of him and nodded at him, and he reciprocated the gesture, walking unhurriedly to his seat, which was to the left of Mr Baratheon, and which should have been occupied by his eldest son. He saw with surprise that his son was seated opposite him, and only then realised that he had not seen Mrs Baratheon anywhere.

"Let's eat." Ordered Mr Baratheon in his booming, low, throaty voice and nodded to his servants, who one by one began to put food on their plates. As he expected, Mr Baratheon immediately addressed him.

"I hope you find your room comfortable and lacking in nothing, Mr Targaryen." He said lightly, without overbearing or teasing, it was more a statement than a question. Aemond nodded without looking at him.

"Yes, thank you very much. I'm not missing anything." He replied indifferently, grabbing his spoon, wanting to immediately start eating to prevent further conversation. The girl next to him couldn't resist, after a few minutes she tried to initiate light conversation with him.

"How do you find the landscapes of Chelsfield, Mr Targaryen?" She asked softly, and he turned his cool gaze on her, thinking in his head that it was the cheesiest question he had ever heard.

She was the only one with fair hair and seemed to him to be the oldest, her breasts were large and full as were her other shapes, and she had a pretty, common face, but not enough to tempt him.

"They are pleasant." He replied coolly, putting down his spoon so that the servant knew to take his plate from him. The girl beside him fell silent, discouraged.

"The day after tomorrow we will all go to church. Will you accompany us, Mr Targaryen?" Another of his daughters sitting across the table asked him, looking at him curiously, her lips slightly parted, as if defiantly, which he found displeasing.

She was trying to coquette him, to show him physically that she was attracted to him.

"Of course." He replied just as dispassionately, immediately getting down to his second dish as soon as it was served in front of him, wanting to finish the meal as quickly as possible.

As soon as he had succeeded in doing so he stood up and calmly announced that he wished to rest after his journey and retire to his room. Mr Baratheon agreed to this without much concern, watching him closely as he bowed and left without another word.

As he locked himself in his room he felt relieved. He pulled off his tailcoat, staying in just his chemise and trousers, and sat down at the cabinet, which he opened and was relieved to find stationery, quills, inkwell and ink there.

He started to write a letter to his mother, but crossed it out quickly and crumpled the piece of paper, throwing it down with rage.

Why should he lie, reassure her that he was content, that he liked it here, when it wasn't true?

He felt like he was locked in a cage with no way out, he knew he couldn't poke his nose out of his room if he wanted peace and quiet and the thought filled him with despair.

Resigned, he reached into his trunk and pulled out the books he had brought with him to somehow sweeten this awful time, these weeks he was to spend in this feral house full of simpletons.

Only after a while did he realise that Vhagar was not in his room.

He cursed loudly, running his hand over his face, devastated at the thought that surely she was still with that girl rolling around in the grass with her.

He fought with himself wondering if he should just let them stay together since they wanted to, but he felt anger because this was his dog, his closest friend, and she was taking her away from him.

As if his life had taken too little from him.

He stood up driven by rage and opened the door, looking around with a pounding heart. He heard Vhagar growling and barking in one of the rooms and knocked on it quietly, hoping to settle the matter quickly.

He heard someone run up to the door and open it quickly, Vhagar flew out and jumped on him, which had never happened before and he rebuked her immediately.

"Vhagar! Calm down! Sit." He commanded her, trying to be quiet and don't wake anyone. She sat down, breathing heavily, her tongue dangled on the left side of her mouth bobbing from her rapid breaths, her tail scrubbing the floor with joy, euphoria in her eyes.

What was happening to her?

"I was just teaching her a new trick." He heard the whisper of a girl who preferred to greet his dog first rather than him despite the fact that he could be her future husband.

He looked at her coldly, frustrated and bitter, a smile and gentle contentment on her face, she was standing in front of him in only a nightgown and a shawl thrown over her shoulders, her hair already completely loose.

He felt ashamed, it was the first time he had seen a woman in such a negligee. Even during his close-ups with Alys, he had never undressed her, simply not having the time to do so. He looked away, tightening his lips.

"Don't come near my dog again." He hissed, whistling at Vhagar, and she moved after him, stopping once in a while, turning towards her.

He felt furious and grabbed her suddenly by the fur on her neck, wanting to drag her forcibly to his room, like a small child who wants to snatch a toy from another child, and she began to squeal in pain and pull herself out of his grasp.

"− no! − please! − wait −" She begged and he let go of her, suddenly realising that he was causing her pain and watched, panting heavily, as Vhagar ran back to her room.

The girl looked at him apologetically and went back there, he heard her whisper to Vhagar to follow her, not to be afraid.

He stared ahead dully realising that he had just hurt the only being in the world who truly loved him.

That Vhagar would now be afraid of him too.

He felt like crying.

Miss Baratheon finally came out of her room holding something in her hand, evidently a piece of meat from the roast that she must have taken to her room after dinner and using it to train her.

Vhagar came up behind her, sniffing what she had in her hand, but when she saw him she lowered her ears and stepped back, afraid he would do to her again what he had done a moment before.

The girl approached him quickly, handing him the piece of meat she was holding.

"Hand it to her and call her out, just don't get angry." She said to him quietly as if they were acquaintances, but he decided he would not think of that, too distraught that Vhagar hated him so he knelt before her, extending his hand to her, and Miss Baratheon knelt beside him.

"− come, Vhagar − I'm sorry − it's all right −" He whispered and saw his dog begin to wag his tail again, she approached him slowly, uncertainly and sniffed his fingers, then licked them and ate what he held between them.

She pressed her white head against his chest, rubbing against him, and he felt a burning sensation under his eyelids, his lower lip trembling slightly.

"− I'm so sorry −" She said softly in a voice filled with guilt.

He heard her rise and looked at Vhagar, entering his room, and she ran after her at once. He moved behind them and watched in disbelief as she sat down on his floor and Vhagar lay down right next to her, placing her paw on her thigh, letting her know that she wanted to continue playing with her.

She had never behaved like this towards him and he had no idea what he should do with a girl sitting on the floor of his room in the middle of the night.

After a moment, however, Miss Baratheon stood up and looked at him, swallowing loudly, clearly realising herself that she shouldn't be there.

"− I'm sorry for the intrusion, I just wanted her to come in here − good night −" She mumbled almost running out and closing the door behind her, Vhagar wanted to run after her but didn't make it.

He lay down on his bed, distraught, and Vhagar ran up to him, having already forgotten the unpleasant event of a few minutes before, licking him devotedly and tenderly on the face.

"Traitor." He hissed angrily and regretfully, stroking her soft fur.

For the first time in his life, he let her jump on his bed and sleep with him.

Here, there were no his grandfather or servants to report this behaviour to him, which was completely unthinkable.

He fell asleep snuggled into her soft fur, ignoring the fact that she ended up taking up most of the bedding, pushing him to the side.

He thought it was an exceptionally pleasant feeling.

When he woke up in the morning he again felt the stress overpowering him at the thought of breakfast, the fact that this girl had probably blabbed everything to her sisters, saying that he was a violent, cold and aggressive man who hurt his own dog.

However, when he came downstairs with Vhagar his dog immediately ran to her to greet her, also coming up later to her father and brother, who called out to her, eventually making the rounds around the table, getting acquainted with each in turn.

"She's beautiful." Said the second of their sisters, slightly melancholy and hearty.

At breakfast, Mr Baratheon finally introduced his daughters properly to him taking advantage of the lighter atmosphere. He nodded pretending to try to remember their names, thinking with relief only that his youngest child had apparently not mentioned to him the commotion that had taken place during the night.

"I heard loud barking yesterday in your room. Why are you taking Mr Targaryen's dog for yourself?" Asked the girl who had tried to coquette him the day before, and from what he had just learned her name was Floris.

Her younger sister gave him a quick, apologetic glance full of guilt, her gown creamy and buff, pleasantly accentuating the shape of her breasts, some of her curls pinned back, some falling over her shoulders.

"I'm not taking her away, we've just become very friendly." She mumbled, and her sister snorted at her words.

"It's not appropriate." Said another sister, Cassandra, a blonde-haired girl who tried unsuccessfully to make light conversation with him.

He watched Mr Baratheon's youngest child collapse under more and more criticism, and thought with surprise that he felt no satisfaction from it.

"That's enough." Ordered Mr Baratheon, seeing that his daughter was on the verge of crying. "My dear, apologise to Mr Targaryen for your behaviour and for taking his dog for yourself."

He saw her lift her gaze to him, her eyebrows arched in pain, her chest rising and falling in shaky breaths.

"I am deeply sorry for my behaviour and all the unpleasantness that came with it." She choked out finally and he swallowed loudly, clenching his hand into a fist knowing that only he and she understood the context of that sentence.

He thought with shame that he had reacted too impulsively and aggressively in front of her, even though her opinion didn't matter to him, he couldn't get the expression on her face out of his head, her cry full of pain when Vhagar started squealing.

"I also apologise, miss Baratheon." He said lowly, looking at his fingers moving in an uncertain gesture across the table top, wanting her to know that he regretted what had happened, what she had seen. Floris sitting next to him moved restlessly.

"Mr Targaryen, do not apologise to her. She is like an animal herself." She said with amusement, and her younger sister pressed her trembling lips together, fighting for a moment against whatever was rising in her throat, but finally gave up and got up from the table, leaving the room before the tears had time to leave the corners of her eyes.

Her older brother followed her out, saying he would check how she was feeling, and there was an uncomfortable silence broken by their father.

"That was unnecessary, Floris." He said impatiently, his daughter snorting at his words.

"She's embarrassing us all, I just gave her something to think about."

"What a pathetic thing to say." He growled, taking a sip of tea from his cup, setting it down on the saucer with a clatter of porcelain, and only after a moment did he realise that he had said aloud what he had thought.

He didn't dare raise his eyes, feeling the pounding of his heart, feeling that all gazes were directed towards him.

"With your permission." He muttered, rising from his seat, bowing and leaving the dining room, feeling like he was going to burn from embarrassment.

How could he say something like that?

He felt that he needed air and walked outside onto the dirt road, whistling at Vhagar who ran after him, deciding to take a walk to clear his head.

He walked for a long time, going through the forest paths and then strolling around the lake, amazed at the overpowering stillness that reigned all around, the birdsong, the rustling of the leaves, the freshness of the air.

In London, everything was fast, sudden, loud.

Tiring.

He sat down on the sand by the edge of the lake and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the water, to the sounds of nature, feeling Vhagar lay down beside him, sighing heavily. He continued like this for what seemed like an eternity, and decided that he could spend hours here, simply calming and soothing himself, hiding from the world.

He shuddered as he heard someone's footsteps in the distance, Vhagar instantly rising and literally darting towards the girl he would have recognised from a mile away.

He sighed heavily, turning his face towards the surface of the water, figuring he wouldn't pay any attention to her. Just as he thought, she sat down beside him on the sand, as he did, leaning her head against a long, old tree trunk.

She didn't say a word to him, however, letting Vhagar settle down between them, stroking her head, which she laid on her thighs. When he glanced at her he saw that her eyes were closed, that she was doing exactly the same thing he was doing.

She was running away.

He relaxed at the thought that she wasn't looking for a discussion or a intimacy with him and did the same as she did.

He shuddered, looking around, unsure of where he was or what was happening, running his hand over his face. He'd never fallen asleep outside before, much less in the middle of nowhere. He looked around and saw Vhagar lying on her back, sleeping soundly, embraced by Miss Baratheon, who was asleep snuggled against her fur.

He did not know what he thought of this sight, endlessly innocent and harmless. He was afraid someone had seen or would see them, but he didn't want to touch her, so he grunted loudly. She moved suddenly, blinking her eyelids rapidly, and rose to sit down, rubbing her eyes, as confused as he was.

Feeling that what had happened was uncomfortable to say the least, he stood up and whistled at Vhagar, heading back the same way he had come, leaving her alone.

She did not follow him and he felt relieved at the thought.

Halfway through, however, he stopped, feeling anxious, wondering if he should leave her alone in the forest. He fought the thought convincing himself that since she had gone there herself, she would return on her own, knowing the area better than he did, but on the other hand, he would never let Helaena venture this far, and she was still very young.

What if something happened to her?

He cursed in frustration and turned back, coming across her after a few minutes. She looked at him surprised, clearly not expecting him to come back for her.

"Did you forget something, sir?" She asked him uncertainly, and he rolled his eyes impatiently, turning his back on her.

"Come, for God's sake."

They walked side by side in silence, simply admiring the pleasant summer views of meadows and forests, not a living soul around them.

He had to admit that these views filled him with some strange sense of warmth, landscapes that he usually only saw in paintings now appeared before his eyes, even more beautiful, teeming with life and intense, strong colours.

They returned to the mansion together, which did not escape the attention of the household, he saw that Maris and Floris literally threw themselves at her as soon as he moved on, thinking he could not hear.

"What are you thinking? What have you done?"

"Nothing." She said impatient and resentful, fatigue and despair in her voice.

"Stop. I asked you a question. You forced yourself on Mr Targaryen again, didn't you?" He heard Floris's voice and stopped in mid-step, tightening his lips.

The youngest Miss Baratheon wanted to say something in her defence, devastated by the accusations, but it was he who spoke up first.

"How are you not ashamed?" He asked, looking over his shoulder at her, all three of them suddenly silent. "It's better to be silent sometimes than to confirm one's stupidity."

Floris probably didn't believe for a moment that he had said that, but when it finally dawned on her that he was deadly serious, she burst into sobs, running into the house, hitting him with her shoulder, Maris ran in after her.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and she looked at him in disbelief, not knowing herself what she thought of his cruel words. He whistled at Vhagar and walked up the stairs to the inside of their mansion, leaving her alone with her thoughts about what kind of man he actually was.

_____

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royaltealee · 8 months

Text

Deathly Silent

Carlo P x Puppet! Reader

⚠️ Content warnings⚠️: The confusion of feelings, eluding that Oil is blood so... Blood warning? (Reader gets hurt) Carlo is dead, RIP. And P is confused-

(Puppets speaking in "Italics" are speaking in the puppet language)

(Also, art at the bottom is made by me! (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧)

Part. 2

You felt lost.

So... So lost, after feeling the only warmth that you could associate with your humanity, gone within an instant.

His words stuck with you, even as you held a corps, a beautiful one, even as you felt something extremely hard bash against your head, causing you to jerk forward from the harsh blow.

Beads of oil cascade down your cracked skull, dripping and splattering against Carlo's cold forehead. Slowly turning to see the cause of all of Carlo's suffering, brandishing a steel pipe, now coated with remains of the puppets overdue attack.

This man was your creator.

But he couldn't control you, not like he wanted anyways.

Without so much as a flinch, you placed the boy down back into his death bed, paying no mind to the puppet maker's grieving face when he looked at his son's pale freckled face.

Unmoving, and as silent as the dead air that surrounded all of Krat.

Taking his sheets, draping them over the body.

Geppetto watched with intensity, his fingers twitching around his weapon.

He wanted to strike again, but you weren't attacking.

Well, not like you could anyways.

His initial thought was that you had broken in and slaughtered his ill son, but when he took a better look at him, your blood was on him, not his.

Carlo's hand was held against your own, and it looked you were debating on staying till you ran out of Ergo, or let yourself shut down.

But you couldn't, knowing that would never bring the boy back.

So, you slid your hand out of the boys crystal encased fingers, and stood up.

You never raised your vision to the only occupant to the room, and jerkily walked back to the shattered glass window. Lifting half of your sagging body out of the window frame.

Only then it started raining, washing off the tainted blood coating your fingers, as you climbed down and disappeared into the dimly lit streets of Krat.

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

It had only been a couple days before you gained a very vivid connection to something...

No wait,

It was someone,

Someone you knew.

It caused you to bolt up, the springs located in your back clicking into and out of place constantly. You defiantly had seen better days, the walking had caused your leg to give out, and avoiding people all together. It suddenly made you sick to see the horrid blue color, some people were lucky to even be healthy in a place like this. But you had too many run-in's with such people, making sure that you backed off, or nabbed a good hit or two.

But, with grit teeth, and the last bit of Ergo you had left, you managed to make it to the signal.

You had made it to the Estella Opera House.

Where there was a huge stage. Bright red curtains, and filled with blank Puppets, posing for a seemingly grand entrance.

A large puppet resembling a king fell from the rafters and nearly crushed you!- Not only did it's initial design spurred you to wanting to flee immediately, it slowly started to lean down. Voice exceedingly clear.

"Hey...! Don't be afraid! It's me, remember? Romeo."

The metal breastplate of the large Puppet opened, and inside was a seemingly newly crafted puppet.

That looked almost exactly like the blond boy you had grown up With.

He smiled, bowing while the other blank Puppet's clapped an encore. You almost did the same on an unknown impulse, but your body just couldn't keep up due to how badly damaged you had gotten.

This... Romeo instantly ran up to you, checking the damage.

"I see Krat hasn't been so kind to you..."

With a snap of his fingers, some of the puppets that were in the sidelines quickly rushed to your aid. Taking you to a side workshop to fix more of the notable damage you had attained, and given you a new Ergo crystal charge.

He was able to control puppets?Just what was going on?

You haven't spoken since the sudden urge to kill became unbearable, certain feelings you once had, were overshadowed by that killer instinct.

You wanted to feel that warmth again, those feelings were not forgotten yet, and it'll only be a matter of time before you'll go completely blind for the rest of your feeble puppet life.

Romeo seemed to understand your struggle, almost to a fault.

He looked saddened, placing a cold finger against the newly sealed cracks against the base of your skull, checking if anything else needed mending.

"I know Carlo meant a lot you. Me too, you know? He was my best friend." Romeo started, causing your eyes to slowly peer up at your friend.

"Which is why... I asked Geppetto to turn me into a puppet."

Oh... That was unexpected.

The interlocking of your brows showed concern, reaching out to brush away loose blond strands of hair away from Romeo's face.

He could tell that you were silently questioning why.

Why go through with such a transformation in the first place?

And so, the newly appointed puppet boy sat with you, it was a very human interaction, not the sort of unemotional interaction you usually got with other puppets.

Maybe because Romeo was once human as well?

You listened, and you listened just as intently as you once did with Carlo.

Romeo had gotten the infection not so far from Carlo did, but before he could bite the blue dust, he asked to be made into a Puppet, to help stop the infection.

And having control to almost all of the puppets with Geppetto's blessings.

But as time went, Romeo noticed that Geppetto's blatant disregard for the people of Krat, letting the majority either die from his puppets, or from the disease.

Romeo had to put a stop to it, he defied death and went to fight against Geppetto and the alchemists.

That... Was a very noble thing to do.

You didn't know that Romeo contacted the disease, or was on the verge of death before Geppetto's assistance. But something almost... Ticked you off the wrong way.

As if something was horribly amiss.

You never strayed away from that feeling; practically the only feeling you suddenly felt in a long while.

Romeo stood, mechanical clicks following his every step. Glassy hazelnut eyes hung on every detail of your wiring.

"I could help you, you know. Protect yourself, grow stronger so that the citizens of Krat can't take you apart like that again."

He lifted his hand to hold out- an offer.

Peace and no quarrels.

Romeo was just as kind at heart, from what you could remember.

So, you grazed his hand, and let him lead you to one of the many rooms in the theater backstage.

Unbeknownst to you, he smiled at the shining ring that wrapped around your finger. Eyes shining with a fresh hurt that never left the boy.

"Now tell me, would you like your own Gemini?"

--------

You stayed with Romeo for a long while, even as the city of Krat had grown unforgiving.

Natural disasters wiped out most of Krat's populous, the puppets and plague didn't help with that factor against humans.

Romeo had a few run-in's with said disasters. His pristine new coat of paint and gears, slowly chipped away.

You were usually in your own designated favorite area, where no one could bother you.

After getting fixed, Romeo had taught you how to defend yourself from anything.

A simple sword would do, nothing too fancy for anything other than defense.

Romeo wanted to teach you some tricks, from his training with Carlo on being a Stalker.

But you refused, not exactly favoring the aggressive tactics that they would usually go for.

You had lost yourself once, you weren't going to do it again.

Especially now that Romeo had done so much to help you.

And you suspect that he was the one making sure that you didn't spiral off into another mindless killing spree like the other puppets.

He just wouldn't admit that.

A small noise rose from the small cage that you carried around your belt.

A cricket chirped against the bars before they spoke.

Their voice soft and well spoken, but very friendly and curious.

"Are you alright dear? You seem, lost in thought."

You turned to look at the mechanical bug, their light glowed a light pinkish-red color.

Plucking the cage against your fingers, and holding the bottom with your palms, staring at the talking mechanical cricket.

"Why doe's Geppetto want to kill people?"

You sounded like a little kid asking about something they didn't understand to their mother. Expecting all the answers to just be said right on the spot so that you could finally understand.

Romeo gave you the rundown, after noticing more than half the population was dead at the end of the month. Ergo was being collected by Geppetto,

and you didn't know what he was going to do with it...

You were left in a dark place, trying to understand certain things on your own. No guide to help you, only Carlo and Romeo's human influence's kept you going.

Your guide kept quiet for a small tick, before making a clicking sound.

"I do not know the Puppet makers plans for the collection of Ergo." They could see the furrow of your brows as you looked passed the iron bars of their enclosure, the light dancing against your hard skin.

"But what I do know, is that you're a smart person. If anyone could figure it out soon, I'd bet it'd be you in no time at all!"

That perked you up, feeling a smile cross your lips at the mini automation.

You liked getting new feelings that welled in your chest, it reminded you of the good times. Human emotions were coming back to you little by little with the help of your new friend.

With childish intent, you placed a small kiss to the cage, and hugged the object to your cheek, as a small laugh came from your cricket.

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

A blue glow woke you from your slumber.

Opening your eyes, you were met face to face with a glowing blue butterfly. It whispers your name, practically calling to you with such allure.

It takes off, and dances around your head in ringlets before fluttering off before you could catch it.

It flutters tauntingly slow, seemingly wanting you to follow.

You were never one to be so easy to deceit, especially now that there were humans that made it an immediate mission to kill you. It could be a trick, but... you had your weapon, a quick peak wouldn't hurt right?

hosting your weapon, and making sure your cricket was nice and settled, you ventured forward, following a peculiar blue butterfly.

The fluttering flow lead you through twists and turns, the Ergo it emitted felt ghost-like.

Could it be that you're finally loosing your mind?

Soon, the butterfly dissipated around the corner, turning quickly, it was nowhere to be seen.

Shifting your eyes rapidly, running up to an empty part of Krat city hall only to completely loose sight of that beautiful blue bell butterfly.

biting your lip in slight disappointment, you huffed before starting to make your way back to your area.

But what you didn't expect, was to narrowly dodge a horrifyingly fast grappling hook.

Backing away quickly, you snapped your head at your attacker.

It could be that stupid donkey that's been giving you problems... but you don't remember if he ever had such a weapon, other than that heavy sword he carried.

No, instead what you saw... wasn't what you were expecting.

A boy, from what you gathered, with fluffy black hair that cut just before it met his jaw, wearing a very familiar boarding school uniform. It fit a little small on him, almost looking like a teen wearing kids cloths.

But his expression didn't fit the bill of a child's gentleness; well- it did, but cutting through his soft, handsome features, was a sharp icy look in his eyes that stared you down.

you could hear the clicking and ticking of his puppet arm, holding up a blade to it as he slowly walked towards you, bringing his weapon of choice up to sharpen it against the metal gears of his legion arm.

One word: Menacing.

But another thought surfaced.

"Carlo?"

He didn't responded to that name, he didn't even look like he acknowledged you even in the slightest.

Then, in one quick move, he dashed straight towards you, weapon ready to strike with precise movement, and monstrous speed that no human was able to recreate.

But you were still quick, unsheathing your sword, you shielded yourself from the extremely hard blow before the blade could touch your face.

He was close, way too close for your liking.

But now you could get a look at his details.

From afar, he looked like a regular, normal human boy. Freckles dotted his face like stars, and those eyes... they didn't shine like Carlo's. They reminded you more like yourself, new, unknown of the world around him. And it seemed he had so much to learn.

And that's when you noticed it, the clicking and ticking sound didn't come just from his arm, it came from all around him, his joints, his neck and his eyes looked more glassy than what would be normal for a human being.

He was a puppet; a puppet that was near identical to Carlo.

It all made sense now...

The puppet boy parried your block, causing you to skid back, leaving narrow time to block yet another slash from his weapon. You couldn't admire him long, before going for yet another attack.

The puppet seemed listless against his persute to end you, and you couldn't help feel a painful jab of hurt to hit you where your heart should be.

"You... You're not Carlo."

It was a realization that got your nerves in a twist, and the look of slight confusion twitched against his face, only grew to sadden and confuse you more.

It was only then that he cleared the sudden fog in his gears, lifting his weapon to swifly lay an exctreamly violent hit to the side of your ribcage. Oil and Ergo splashed and dripped out of your newly aquired wound.

Usualy, you'd be quite calm about getting attacked, but the feeling of wanting to run overwhelmed you, but it seemed fate had other plans for you.

Right when you thought that you could turn quick enough, the puppet beat you to it. Kicking you to the ground rather harshly against the damp cobble stone streets.

You were met with a blade pointed inches to your face, watching as the puppet slowly got ready to strike, raising your blade to shieild yourself...

a moment... or two?

You didn't feel any preasure, or spillage of your wiring and Oil.

Just silence, as you slowly peaked from behinf your blade.

The blue butterfly from before, was perched onto the very tip of his blade, where the puppet looked curiously at.

His eye's didn't scream murder anymore, just curiousity and confusion- Like the Carlo you definently remembered.

The butterfly flapped it's wings gently, fluttering from the blade toards your out streched hand, watching as the gentle creature placed itself on your closed fist, and onto the ring that you had never tooken off.

Then, it magically dissapated into pure Ergo through your fingers and into your strings.

You felt your gears begin to shift...

"what... was that.."

You spoke to yourself, watching as the blue glow had slowly started to disapear, the light vapors creating a comforting warmth of the life you already had.

You suddenly see the Puppet boy shift to look at you quickly, eyes wide and staring at you, getting down into a squat and slowly starting to oberve you. It was an odd sight, watching the puppet that had been trying to kill you, take quick interest after that butterfly had landed on you.

Then, as if things weren't moving any faster than it already was for you; the Puppet grabbed your hand and pulled out a glowing blue pocket watch.

Unknown to what he was planning, you automatically shifted away, taking your hand back.

The boy reached out again, his confused face now being ingrained in your memory for the nth-time that evening.

Rushing back into the dark streets of Krat, loosing sight of you.

And you, loosing sight of your puppet self, without even knowing.

#lies of p x you #lies of p romeo #lies of p x reader #lies of p #x reader #fanfic

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