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crystallinestars · 10 months

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How They React to Your Death

My HCs about how I think the Genshin boys would react to your death. I wanted to write Kaeya too, but ran out of steam.

This month has been terrible to me, so I was in the mood for angst. I don't know how well these turned out, but they were fun to think about.

Part 2 here.

Characters: Alhaitham, Childe, Heizou, Kaveh, Lyney, Neuvillette, Venti, Wanderer/Scaramouche, and Wriothesley

WARNING:

Reader has death descriptions. Some are more graphic than others, but I don't get into the nitty gritty details.

Spoilers for the backstories of all the mentioned boys.

MAJOR SPOILERS for Act V of the Fontaine Archon quest in Neuvillette's part.

Childe's part contains mention of suicidal thoughts.

Kaveh's and Venti's parts contain alcoholism

🎧 Alhaitham

Despite Alhaitham’s considerable wealth, no amount of money could cure your Eleazar sickness. His money could only buy treatment that prolonged your life a little bit, but ultimately your many years of battling the illness ended when he got news from the doctors that you had passed away in your sleep.

Alhaitham had accepted the news fairly quickly. He knew your death was inevitable, could see you slowly wasting away each time he visited you in the hospital over the past few months. So it was no surprise to him when the day finally came. The other patients and staff thought it strange how Alhaitham had no visible reaction to the news, but some chalked it up to shock when in truth the Scribe was simply accepting of that fact. There was no use denying something that already happened.

When Alhaitham came home that day, the house felt silent and empty. It reminded him of how the house felt when his grandmother passed away when he was younger. The sensations were similar. However, he did not cry over your death. Instead, he carried on his life as normal, or as close to it as he could now that you were no longer a part of what he considered ‘normal’.

At first glance, people thought that Haitham was unaffected by your death. Nothing about him changed. Not his mannerisms, his quality of work, or his expression. He remained the same reserved, stoic Scribe who had no time for trivial nonsense or extra work. He also never talked about you to others aside from confirming their question if you were truly gone. Alhaitham was like a well-oiled machine that worked efficiently like clockwork, keeping up the same even rhythm.

What they don’t see is how he comes home with the expectation of hearing your voice greet him upon entering, only to be faced with a defeating silence that makes his heart sink. They don’t know that Alhaitham wakes up throughout the night, expecting to find you snuggled up next to him in bed the way you used to before your sickness got worse, and you had to be hospitalized. However, you weren’t there no matter how many times he looked towards your side of the bed, and the Scribe could only sigh and try to fall back asleep while ignoring his aching heart.

No one sees how Alhaitham gets too lost in his books in the mornings and accidentally makes two cups of coffee instead of one due to force of habit. Or how, for once, he finds the silence of his house bothersome without your voice and the sounds of your activities resounding within the walls, and it’s enough to distract him from reading. He could be found reading at the House of Daena and Puspa Café more often from then on.

During his afternoon naps, Alhaitham sneaks back home and cradles your favorite blanket to mimic the sensation of holding your soft body in his arms the way he used to when you joined him for naps. He listens to recordings of you talking with him just so he can hear your voice again. He was glad he made the decision to record your voice at the hospital before you became too weak to speak. It gave him the chance to hear you one more time even if the sound of your voice made his chest hurt so much that he occasionally had to stop the recording to collect himself.

Nobody sees how Alhaitham finally picks up the fiction books you recommended him because they were your favorite. He prefers non-fiction, but these books are the last things he has left through which he could connect to your mind and way of thinking. He reads them all cover-to-cover even if he finds the story lacking or the writing not to his taste. He will learn to treasure each and every word because you once did.

What someone might see, as Kaveh did when he moved in with the Scribe, is a bookshelf filled with a few journals, a thick book with an emerald cover, and an assortment of fiction books that exist nowhere else in the house. Alhaitham never talks about these books unless asked, but their well-worn covers are a sign of frequent use, and sure enough, one can catch him reading a rare fiction book during one specific month each year.

🐋 Childe

You went missing after going out to collect some firewood in the woods near Childe’s home. A search party was arranged to find you with Childe in the lead, and he was also the first one to find your remains. Your body had been torn apart, blood and innards splattered across the snow, no doubt the work of some rifthounds. Usually, Childe would relish in such a gory sight, but not this time. Not when it’s your blood and flesh painted in the snow.

The sight leaves him numb. He’s numb when the search party comes to retrieve you, numb when he sees your parents weeping over your gruesome death, and numb when he takes on the duty of exterminating every rifthound he finds around Morepesok.

He wants to cry too, to grieve for you the way he needs, but refrains. He doesn’t want to appear weak and unreliable when his younger siblings mourn and cry over your death. You were like family to them, and your death broke their little hearts to pieces. Childe didn’t want to burden his siblings further by breaking down in front of them. He needed to remain a reliable older brother who could support them through this tough time, even when his own heart bled and he cried in his sleep when he dreamed about you.

Childe’s underlings noted that the Eleventh Harbinger became colder and more irritable after your passing. Any mention of your name would garner the speaker a harsh glare, and if Childe assumed what said person said about you was disrespectful, he didn’t hesitate to start a fight and beat the other person within an inch of their life. He became violent and unhinged, much like how he used to be when he returned from the Abyss as a fourteen-year-old boy.

Childe knew his behavior was irrational, and it pained him to see even his own family fear him due to his violent actions. He felt restless. Spending time at home among your belongings summoned feelings of longing and sadness, but even so, he couldn’t bear to throw anything away. He lived among the ghosts of your existence, however, it drove him mad with grief.

Childe needed an outlet for his emotions, so he took to fighting monsters and other strong opponents. He became even more reckless in battle. If before, the Harbinger sought out strong enemies to test his mettle against them and grow stronger as a result, now he sought out an opponent that would be worthy of taking his life.

Childe didn’t want to abandon his family. He loved them dearly and wanted to see his siblings grow up to be happy and successful people, but life without you felt so hollow. A part of him wanted to return to his family, but the sense of his family feeling incomplete never left him. You were just as much of a family to him as his siblings and parents were. He had plans to start his own family with you. But now… now, a part of him yearns to reunite with you in the afterlife. He promised he would stay by your side no matter what, and Ajax is not one to break his promises.

🔍 Heizou

Heizou was one of the first to hear about your stabbing that occurred in an Inazuman alleyway late that evening. You were rushed to a doctor to have your wound treated, but the robber who attacked you hit a vital area. Your blood loss was colossal, and it wasn’t long after arriving at the doctor’s that you succumbed to your injury.

To Heizou, the news brought on a sense of deja vu. He’s already lost a friend to crime in the past, and now he lost you to crime, too. The knowledge made him furious and heartbroken. He was angry at the robber for stabbing you just so he could steal some money that you didn’t want to part with, and he was angry at himself for failing to prevent this. After his friend passed away, Heizou swore to nip crime in the bud by discouraging criminals from committing crimes with the threat that he would find and capture them no matter what without fail. But what good did his resolve do if you still died because of an armed robber?

The heartache and guilt he felt ate away at him as the memory of your ashen face during your last few moments haunted him. He lost you. Never again would he get to spend time with you and make you laugh, kiss and hug you, or tell you he loved you.

His anger drove him to capture the murderer in record time, but hearing the criminal’s subsequent sentence for theft and murder didn’t comfort the detective. No amount of jail time would ever atone for the loss of your life.

After that day, Heizou lost his playful demeanor, becoming somber and reserved. He threw himself into his work, feeling pressured to capture as many criminals as he could in as little time as possible. However, his grief and exhaustion caused his mind to dull and make mistakes while investigating clues. It got to the point where Kujou Sara had to forcibly send him on vacation so he could take a break and properly process your death.

Despite his protests, Heizou knew he wasn’t much use in his current state, so he took this free time to visit your family and mourn together with them. He apologized for not doing a better job of protecting you, fully expecting your parents to lay blame on him for not protecting their child. To his surprise, your parents didn’t blame him at all. They even thanked him for catching the murderer and helping them to feel a little more at peace. Heizou’s interaction with your family helped him feel a tiny bit less guilty about your death.

The experience left him feeling a little less broken, so in the following days he sorted through your belongings in your shared home. He packed away some items to return to your parents, some things he put in storage, and others he gave away that he remembered you wanting to get rid of. A few of your items he kept for himself, one of which was a scarf you mentioned you bought because it was the same shade of green as his eyes which reminded you of him.

Heizou wore your scarf as a keepsake and good luck charm and would hardly be seen without it when he finally came back to work. What once served as your reminder of him, now served as his reminder of you, the person he loved with his whole being. But with the memories of you came the reminder of how you died. Though the memory was painful, it helped Heizou work up the will to keep pursuing his goal of eradicating crime. Even when the case was extremely tough with conflicting clues, your scarf would remind him to not give up, to not let another incident like yours happen again, and Heizou would persevere. He would continue to persevere no matter how long it took because he didn’t want innocent lives like yours to be snatched away so cruelly. Maybe one day, he will see you in the afterlife and proudly tell you all about how he achieved his dream. Until then, he will work hard to be worthy of the title of Inazuma’s best detective.

🍷 Kaveh

Kaveh had a lot of work to do. He was saddled with creating drafts for another large project while also trying to work on the commission for constructing a library in Aaru village for the children. Wanting to help alleviate his burden, you offered to take the finished drafts over to Aaru village yourself so he could focus on finishing up work for his other project. Kaveh tried to object, saying you really didn’t need to trouble yourself on his behalf, but you insisted, expressing your desire to help him finish his work sooner so the two of you could spend more time together again. After some deliberation, he let you go to the village by yourself, confident that you could make the trip since you accompanied him there several times before.

A few days later, Kaveh received news that you had died on your return trip from the desert. When he heard the cause of your death, his stomach roiled. You perished in quicksand just like his father. You died doing something for his sake, just like his father did.

Whatever future plans he was building together with you, whatever progress you made in helping him slowly heal from his trauma, it all came crashing down around him. Your death reopened old wounds Kaveh was only starting to heal from, as well as left new scars that tormented him every waking moment.

The first few weeks, Kaveh couldn’t stand to be in your shared home. It was full of memories of you, and each and every one of your belongings would stab at his heart like a blade. Moreover, the house felt so silent without you around. It reminded him of when his mother left for Fontaine, leaving him alone in a house too big for only him to live in. Now, he was reliving that moment all over again, but it was worse this time because, unlike his mother, he would never see you again.

Kaveh also couldn’t stand to look inside his sketchbooks. The pages were covered in various sketches of you, and looking at them only made the anguish and guilt grow in him tenfold. He blamed himself for your death, attributing it to being his fault just like he attributes his father’s death as his fault too. No matter what anyone says to console him, he will never stop believing it’s all his fault.

Fueled by guilt and self-loathing, Kaveh spent several weeks visiting Lambad’s tavern practically every day. One could even say he lived there since the architect seldom went home. He used what little money he had to buy alcohol, especially of the stronger kind. He wanted to numb the pain in his heart and to pretend that you weren’t really gone from this world. The alcohol helped to muddle his mind until his intoxicated brain conjured happy memories of you together, and Kaveh would mumble your name in a drunken haze. Other times it didn’t help, and Alhaitham, Cyno, or Tighnari could often find a drunk Kaveh quietly crying while slumped over a table and trying their best to drag him home while listening to his drunken babble of self-loathing and regret.

It will take a long time for Kaveh to feel okay again, and even then, he will never be the same optimistic and cheerful person he used to be. You were his muse, the one who made him feel like maybe he was deserving of love after all. But with you gone, he lost his creative spark. His designs no longer held the same extravagant and artistic flair they used to. Now, they’re more tame by comparison. With your passing, you took with you the little bit of joy he felt towards the world, and it seemed more bleak than it used to be when he was with you.

Kaveh refused to seek out love after your death. He’s lost too many people he held dear and has been left alone over and over again. The pain of being left behind and of feeling like he will only bring misfortune to those he cares about, made him seal off his heart. He doesn’t want to let people close to him like that again, and neither does he want to replace you. You were, and still are, very special to him.

Despite numerous years going by after your passing, Kaveh never forgot you, and he didn’t want your memory to be forgotten either. He built an art school and dedicated it to you in honor of being the one who inspired him so much in his creative endeavors. He hopes that your name will live on and continue to inspire future generations of artists long after he is gone from the world.

🎩 Lyney Having grown up in the House of the Hearth with Lyney and Lynette, the twins were practically like family to you. Though admittedly, Lyney and you developed romantic ties rather than familial ones the more you got to know each other. It was no surprise to anyone when the two of you became a couple, and Lynette even encouraged it.

Being a member of the Fatui, you were often sent out on dangerous missions to infiltrate enemy territory and report your findings back to Arlecchino. You were good at your job and had major successfully completed missions under your belt, but even the best slip up sometimes. After infiltrating enemy headquarters, you regularly reported your findings back to the House, however, one day the correspondence stopped. You went completely silent. The thought of you being caught immediately crossed Lyney’s mind, but he was hopeful that as an experienced agent, you would manage to find a way out somehow. You always have in the past, and after having worked together with you during joint missions, he saw first-hand how capable you were. To pass the time, he focused on polishing a magic trick he wanted to show you upon your return.

Days go by, and just as the magician is about to lose his patience and run off to try and find you, news about your body washing up on a riverbank reaches his ears. The heartbreak Lyney experiences upon hearing the news is indescribable. He felt lost, disoriented, and anguished. A part of him refused to believe the facts, but after witnessing the gruesome sight of your corpse, he had no choice but to face reality.

You were dead.

Lyney wondered at length about the cause of your death, and while his own guesses made his stomach knot, the autopsy report he read a few days later made him livid. Numerous torture and abuse marks were found on your body. It seemed that the enemy had captured and tortured you, hoping to force you to spill some of the Fatui’s secrets. Judging by the severity of the most recent wounds, you must have kept quiet because more brutal torture methods were used on you until the enemy figured out they wouldn’t get anything out of you, and disposed of you. Lyney knew how loyal you were to your family. You would never betray them even at the cost of your own life, but in that moment, he really wished you would have treasured your life more. Maybe then you could have survived. Maybe then he would have had the chance to hold you in his arms and tell you he missed you while you were gone. Maybe he would have had an opportunity to show off the magic trick he created specifically for your eyes only. But now, he’ll continue to miss you until the day death comes for him too. Lyney’s initial reaction upon hearing of your torture is overwhelming fury. Lynette had to hold him back from recklessly running off to take revenge against the enemy. It took a lot of reasoning on her part, but eventually, her brother calmed down.

Once his bout of anger passed, Lyney broke down. Lynette didn’t hide her own tears as she held her brother in her arms while he cried. The siblings both missed you dearly and mourned your loss, but Lyney took your death especially hard. He felt broken. One of his most precious people was taken from him in such a cruel manner, and the mere thought of how you must have spent your last few waking hours made him feel horrible.

He was anguished and angry, and the potent concoction of negative emotions weighed down on his heart and mind. Gone was his cheerful smile and outgoing attitude, replaced with a cold and somber frown. His calculative side took center stage. Though his initial burst of outrage passed, he wouldn’t give up on his desire for revenge until the act had been carried out. Aside from the twins, Arlecchino also refused to take your death lying down. You were her precious child, someone she put in a lot of love and effort to raise, and this transgression angered her as much as it angered Lyney. Together with Arlecchino, Lyney and Lynette infiltrate enemy headquarters and make every person a part of that organization pay. The magician ensures that the perpetrators experience the same pain you went through during your torture, and by the time they’re done, not a soul is left alive.

Even after exacting revenge, Lyney barely feels a smidge better. Though your captors have been neutralized and won’t hurt anyone the way they hurt you ever again, it doesn’t satisfy Lyney. At the end of the day, all he wants is to have you back in his life. He consoles himself with pieces of your clothing. Your clothes smelled like you, and Lyney hugged one of your items every night, breathing in your scent and soaking the material with his tears as he quietly cried. It takes a long time for Lyney to get himself together and act like himself again. Though he could easily put on a fake smile for his audience, his heart still aches inside. He misses you no matter how many months go by, and Lynette has her hands full comforting him when he breaks down at night and cries about how much he wants to see you. Lyney would have had an easier time accepting your death if you had passed away more peacefully, but knowing you were tortured to death will forever haunt him.

Once he feels more like himself, Lyney incorporates the magic trick he originally wanted to show you upon your return into his magic shows. He only performs it during special occasions so it would leave a great spectacle upon his audience. It was once made to awe you, but now it awes his audience, and a part of him feels some semblance of catharsis in knowing he could inspire others to feel the same joy you made him feel using just this trick. At times like these, Lyney feels as if a part of you was still there with him, enjoying the show he secretly dedicates in your honor.

⚖️ Neuvillette

You were visiting your friend Navia in Poisson, when the Primordial Sea flooded the area and caused a great catastrophe that took the lives of many of its residents. Neuvillette was aware you were in Poisson when the disaster struck, and he tried to get there as quickly as he could to check on you. He would have arrived there immediately were it not for the pressing matters he had to settle prior. He hoped the Traveler and Paimon would find you and keep you safe since they knew you were the Iudex’s beloved.

When he finally made it to Poisson, to his morbid surprise, he found neither you nor Navia, but some Fatui members helping to mitigate the damage. When he asked about your whereabouts, he was told that nobody had seen you. Immediately, his thoughts ventured to the worst scenario, but he refused to believe in his fears until he could get confirmation. He held out hope that you were alright, and went in pursuit of Navia and the Traveler, hoping that maybe you were with them, or they knew what happened to you.

It wasn’t until he was saving Navia from getting dissolved in the Primordial Sea water, did he catch a glimpse of your face. You were trying to protect Navia from certain death, along with Silver and Meluse. At the time he was too anxious about saving Navia to fully register the implication, but an unsettling thought sprang in his mind that maybe you really were— No, he didn’t want to accept it.

When Navia regained consciousness, Neuvillette asked her about your whereabouts. Her answer pierced through him like an ice-cold lance. With tears in her eyes, Navia recounted how you were helping Silver and Meluse rescue the residents of Poisson when the Primordial Sea flooded in, and how she saw your body dissolve in the water along with her loyal subordinates with her own eyes. The news settled in Neuvillette’s stomach like a boulder, causing it to sink and make him feel nauseous. Dread filled him, but he could only muster a quiet “I see…” and stare off into the distance. He felt crushing sadness, but he wasn’t given time to properly process his emotions and your death until he managed to make it out of the ruins.

That evening, Fontaine was hit by a torrential downpour that lasted several days. The rain fell in heavy sheets, flooding the streets and urging most of the citizens to seek shelter in their homes. Only the Chief Justice had the gall to stand outside and let the rain seep and soak through his clothes.

Neuvillette let the water droplets cascade down his face, imitating the tears he wished to shed as the realization that he would never see you again settled in. It was strange. Though he was on land, each waking moment he was pursued by a constant feeling of drowning. His chest felt heavy as if burdened by a great weight that made each breath he took feel like a herculean task.

Neuvillette felt a lot of emotions he couldn’t find the words for. He was frustrated and angry that innocent civilians had died in the flood because nothing was done to prevent it. So many people died. You died. If nothing else, he wanted to get justice for your and the others’ deaths.

However, Furina refused to provide answers to his questions despite his probing and insistence that now was not the time to keep secrets that could potentially help prevent an even greater catastrophe. That was when he turned to seeking aid from his companions, in the hopes that Fontaine could still be saved. Neuvillette lost and gained many things in those few days. The citizens of Fontaine were freed of their curse, and Neuvillette had obtained a position of complete authority, however, it all came at the cost of the lives of innocent civilians, Focalors’s life, Furina’s mental state, and… your life. Those were great prices to pay, and Neuvillette mourned each and every sacrifice.

Now that he had some time to himself to process his feelings, Neuvillette recognized that what he felt was grief and longing. He wanted to see you at least one more time, to feel you in his arms again. To have you taken from him so suddenly was too painful. He never got to tell you one last ‘I love you’, and he could only hope that his words reach you wherever your consciousness might be now. Fontaine will see frequent rainfall in the coming months. It won’t be easy for Neuvillette to get over your death, and some part of him will always ache and yearn to see you again. But one thing he can do is strengthen his resolve to make Fontaine into a nation that both you and Focalors would be proud of. A nation where tragedies like these will never happen again.

🍃 Venti

Venti liked to climb up on high places like his statue in front of the Favonius church, the rooftop of the Cat’s Tail, or the great tree at Windrise. Today, you found him high up in the tree, absentmindedly strumming a new tune on his lyre. Wanting to surprise the bard, you tried your best to climb the tree as quietly as you could, but right as you were about to pop up and surprise him, the branch you were on snapped, and with a heart-stopping shriek, you plummeted down to the ground.

Your scream alerted Venti. He felt your presence before you even started climbing the tree, but he failed to foresee the danger until it was too late. He didn’t react fast enough to summon a gust of wind to safely lower you down. The sickening crunch of your skull hitting the ground made his stomach roil, and for a brief moment he felt as if the blood in his veins turned to ice. He felt frozen in place.

Snapping out of his momentary stupor, Venti rushed to your side to check on you, but the enormous pool of blood blooming around your lifeless body made him throw up.

Not again. He lost someone he loved once more. The painful emotions of losing you triggered a cascade of memories of seeing the broken body of that one boy he called a friend thousands of years ago. The same boy whose face he now wore as a way of honoring his memory and giving him an opportunity to live out his dreams of freedom through Venti.

Venti felt that same feeling of heavy emptiness once again as he cradled your lifeless body in his arms, your blood smearing the white sleeves of his shirt. One of the bard’s hands cradled your still-warm cheek, and he wept. To have you taken away so easily through such a small accident… it was too much.

Venti didn’t attend your funeral. He couldn’t bear to. However, he forced himself to watch from a distance as your loved ones gathered around your grave. He fully empathized with their grief.

In the following days, one could often find Venti at a tavern. He started with Angel’s Share, but after consecutive days of heavy drinking and drunken ramblings about how remorseful he felt and how you deserved better, Diluc put a stop to Venti’s visits. The Anemo Archon wasn’t getting any better from drinking himself into a stupor until he could barely hold himself upright. It was heartbreaking to see.

Even after being banned from the Angel’s Share, Venti would visit other taverns in the city and rinse and repeat. He so badly wanted to numb the pain in his heart and forget the awful memory of your lifeless body. Only after several bans did Venti finally stop coming to the city altogether. He disappeared for a while, and nobody was able to find him. Only after many weeks did the bard suddenly pop up in the town square with his lyre in hand.

During his absence, Venti wrote a few songs as a way to cope with his grief, and after a while, finally felt well enough to play them. As a bard, he was well-known in Mondstadt for playing cheerful and beautiful tunes, but this time his melodies were melancholic, even sad. They listened to him sing about a love he can no longer say ‘I love you’ to anymore, someone he can no longer forge new memories with and can only carry on in his heart as a memory. The music he played captured the attention of every member of the audience and touched their hearts so deeply that they, too, could feel the sorrow the bard was trying to convey through his melodies. His pain became their pain, too. The heartache was so profound, so raw and crippling, that many people couldn’t hold back from crying.

Venti wasn’t playing the songs to earn money or share his sadness with others. He was playing them for you. He hoped that his feelings would reach you wherever you were and that your memory wouldn’t fade away even if he remained the last person alive who knew of your existence. His songs will keep your memory alive in the hearts of the Mondstadt citizens, never to be forgotten.

☂️ Wanderer

You have been fighting chronic sickness for months, but despite the treatments, each week you seemed to get worse and worse. Neither the doctors of Sumeru nor even Nahida herself could figure out a cure for your condition. You were bedridden with barely any strength to move. Wanderer took responsibility for nursing you back to health by helping you get to places you needed, cooking all your meals and feeding you, as well as getting your medicine and administering it.

Despite his efforts, you could tell you wouldn’t last long. While you still had the strength to talk, you apologized to him for being forced to part from him.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, with a frown pulling at his lips. “Rather than talk about such nonsense, use that energy to get better instead.”

He didn’t want to face the facts, to accept the reality that you could disappear from his life. But then came a day where you no longer opened your eyes when he called your name, nor stirred when he tried to shake you awake. Your body was cold and stiff and so unlike what he was used to seeing you as. The life you possessed was gone in all senses of the word.

Something in Wanderer snapped that day. Falling to his knees, he let out a guttural scream that tore at his vocal cords. He unleashed a wail that carried all the anguish and misery he’d been keeping bottled up inside for hundreds of years. He’s lost so many people he cared for in the past. Each time he met someone he grew attached to, fate would always tear them away from him, and you were no exception.

He cried bitter tears in the privacy of your shared home, cursing Fate for doing this to him over and over again. He was angry and heartbroken. Though he lacked a real heart, the sensation in his chest felt like something inside him broke into a million tiny fragments. As if sharp needles pierced through his non-existent heart and caused him to scream until he lost his voice.

He wanted revenge, but how can one get vengeance against Fate itself?

You were gone, so cruelly torn away from his side despite his best efforts to keep you alive. You were the little ray of light that never gave up on him no matter how cold he was towards you or how much he pushed you away, and helped him heal little by little. You accepted him in his entirety and wormed your way into his non-existent heart, so how dare Fate mock him like this? Wanderer truly felt as if Fate was purposely torturing him by taking away all those whom he held dear.

Helpless and anguished, Wanderer reverted to the days when he used to be Scaramouche, the sixth of the Fatui Harbingers who was infamous for his callousness and mercilessness. His roiling emotions spurred him to repeat these spiteful acts against anyone who got in his way. It was the only way he knew of how to vent these overwhelming emotions that made him feel like he was choking on his grief.

It took Nahida’s interference to calm him down and get through to him that you wouldn’t want him to be like this. The Wanderer you fell in love with wasn’t such a hateful person driven by negative emotions, and though he was loathe to admit it, the God of Wisdom was right.

Having quelled the initial burst of wounded anger, Wanderer would think more clearly about what he should do from now on. He could keep all your items, photographs, and letters, but they would never replace you, only help preserve some of the memories attached to them, which a puppet like him had no need for. He won’t forget even the smallest thing about you, not as long as he’s alive.

Wanderer becomes a regular visitor of your grave, taking care of it so your name won’t be erased from the gravestone by time too quickly. He would frequently bring your favorite foods and flowers and place them in front of your grave, before taking a seat next to it and staring off into the distance without saying a word. He did this mostly at night so he could stargaze, just like how you both used to when you were alive.

Even centuries later, when everyone who knew you took their memories of you to their graves, Wanderer will remain to watch over your final resting place, unwavering in his devotion.

🐺 Wriothesley

You accompanied Wriothesley on another one of his swims out in the open waters surrounding the Fortress. Since you weren’t a vision holder, you had to wear a diving suit to breathe, unlike your beloved Duke. You’ve had these private little swim dates a few times before, so your guard was down when you swam through some jagged areas of the Fortress’s scaffolding. The shoulder of your diving suit caught on a sharp edge of metal and tore a hole in it. The tear was fairly large, and you panicked when you felt water rush inside your suit. Wriothesley was quick to freeze the hole and pull you up to the surface to get the suit off of you, but by the time he did, it was too late. You had inhaled too much water and were unresponsive. Wriothesley tried to keep his anxiety at bay and utilized all the CPR knowledge he learned from Sigewinne to try and save your life. He breathed air into your lungs and did chest compressions with enough force to hear your ribs crack, but even after 30 agonizing minutes of trying, you wouldn’t wake up.

Wriothesley had no choice but to accept the fact you died. Wriothesley doesn’t cry for you. He’s no stranger to death. His exposure to it in his younger years made him all too aware of how easy it is to die, and that death came for all without exception. As a result, he was able to accept your death a little easier than most, but it doesn’t mean he made peace with it. The staff and inmates at the Fortress all said Wriothesley looked the same as usual even after your death. He kept up his laidback yet intimidating demeanor and busied himself with the variety of work someone in his position was required to take care of. Only Sigewinne could tell that Wriothesley was not alright despite all the strained smiles he gave everyone. The bags under his eyes grew more prominent by the day, a clear indicator he wasn’t sleeping well. She saw how he threw himself into his work, barely taking any time to rest properly, as if wanting to keep his mind busy from the horrible memory of seeing your corpse. Though he tried to mask it, in truth, your death affected Wriothesley deeply. He had frequent nightmares about watching you drown and being unable to save you, and they would keep him up at night. He usually awoke in a cold sweat, his heart pounding from intense panic and dread until his mind cleared, only to be replaced with a stone-cold reality that made the feelings of guilt come rushing back. Out of habit, he turns to your side of the bed to seek comfort in your presence but seeing it cold and empty served as yet another harsh reminder that you were gone. Wriothesley can’t sleep after his nightmares, so he opts to work out or fuss over his gauntlets to distract himself from his feelings. It takes all his self-control to keep a lid on his emotions and not become the angry, irritable mess he knows he will be if he’s not careful.

When he makes tea, Wriothesley accidentally makes two cups out of habit. One for you and one for him. Even weeks after your passing, it was still a difficult habit to break. For the first while, Wriothesley would even stop drinking your favorite tea blend because it reminded him of you. Rather than enjoy the flavor, all he tastes is bile in his throat. The flavor of your favorite tea makes him nauseous because it makes him think about how you will never taste this again or have another tea date in his office.

There was one occasion when he tried to drink your tea shortly after your death. He thought maybe the flavor would remind him of the happy times he shared with you, but all it resulted in was a broken teacup from the force of his grip, and Sigewinne fussing over his cuts and burns. He didn’t drink your favorite blend for a long time after that, only being able to find enjoyment in it again many years later when the startlingly clear memory of your death didn’t hurt him as much. Wriothesley felt lonely without you. You were the friend and confidant he told his deepest and darkest secrets about his past, the comfort he sought after a difficult day, and the soothing presence that made him feel accepted for who he was without all the embellished titles. But after your passing, the Fortress of Meropide seemed cold and gloomy, as if devoid of the warmth it once had that made him call it home. It was as if your death snuffed out the little ray of warm sunshine he felt when spending time with you.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou x reader #heizou shikanoin x reader #kaveh x reader #lyney x reader #neuvillette x reader #venti x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wriothesley x reader #For some reason Lyney's part is the longest

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larcenywrites · 5 months

Text

For Love, We Sin the Most

Nightcrawler x Reader

Technically spoilers if you read any x-men anthology and haven't made it through second coming/ haven't read quest for nightcrawler. I don't get into many details or stay very canon anyway lol

Word count: 2,650

Summary: The resident catholic is having a hard time settling with the terms of his resurrection and just trying to feel again.

When Rachel frantically called on you to find Nightcrawler, you probably preferred to find him in battle, fighting demons. Luckily, on a Sunday morning, you knew exactly where to look first, creaking open the large wooden door just enough to pass through into the small lobby. The lights were off, but there was low singing from further inside. You would have proceeded to peek past that second set of doors, but the quick flick of blue that curled out from the sunlight and into the shadows nearby finished your investigation for you.

Well, you did, in fact, find him fighting demons.

This would normally be the part where you'd tease him about being terrible at hiding, but you didn't need to see his face to hold your tongue. Instead, you found a nearby panel of switches, flooding his side of the room in low light. Without the darkness, he could no longer blend and hide, but he didn't recoil. Hunched over, his hands were clasped together on his knees, and his tail tightly curled over his feet. You approached him wordlessly. You could tell he was focused but not on you, proven when he crossed himself right on cue. A cue you hardly heard yourself.

He continued to sit still for a few minutes. Obviously, he knew who stood before him. Otherwise he would have hid. Taking a deep breath, you placed a hand on his shoulder. "Shouldn't you be attending the service?" You asked softly.

"I," he finally choked out after several moments. "I'm not sure I am allowed to anymore." His words, although quiet, dripped with despair. For him, this welcoming foyer was his ancient narthex, created for those who weren't allowed into the sanctuary but still wished to listen to its sermon.

"Have you spoken to a Father about it?" Without further knowledge, you can only suggest a priest.

"And what would I say?" Kurt raised his voice in his anguish and grimaced at his own volume. "What would he say?" He tagged on, much quieter this time. He practically curled into himself as if he were cold. You sighed sadly at the sight, looking away. A small staircase in the corner caught your interest and gave you another idea. Reaching your hands down to his, you unfurled his hands from one another and took them into yours. At the gesture, he finally lifted his head to look at you. It took all you could not to take his sad face in your hands instead.

"I think he would tell you to come in," you reply in a gentle whisper. You smile down at him as you barely tug him towards you, convincing him to stand. When he finally does, you study him. His black blazer and black slacks, his white button-up shirt. A few top buttons were messily undone, but it only made him more handsome. Silently, with a hand in his, you led him up those wooden steps. Your intuition was right when they opened into a high balcony overlooking the inner room. That narrow gallery stretched against the wall was mostly dark, with only the tops of stained glass windows bleeding in light over the single row of benches. There was a reason someone like him chose such a dark, unpopulated church.

As you began to leave the doorway, deadweight stopped you in your tracks. Looking back, a pair of downcast yellow eyes glowed under the wooden arch. Naturally, he blended into the shadow. You came back to him, taking his other hand and settling between him and the wall. At the very least, maybe it would help for him to see this place again, you figured. You let him listen, watching him closely as he watched the floor.

And what a horrible day for a sermon about heaven.

"I saw it, you know," he barely spoke up, accent whispering like a snake. "Paradise." He said the word hauntingly, not with any grandeur nor remorse. He turned his head as he spoke, looking down at the alter, but he seemed distant. Perhaps in memory. The light of the window caught his eye and reflected brilliant pale yellow. In the darkness, the other was like fire.

"And yet you came back," you whispered back. Even you weren't quite sure what you meant by it, but he knew it wasn't merely an observation. Contemplating, he stared down into the room. The priest below continued, but you only wanted to hear whatever else Kurt had to say.

"There were many reasons I did what I did," he soon continued, still not looking at you. "Did it the way I did." He never told you the full story, not even Logan knew. You waited for more, but he didn't respond. He probably didn't want to talk about it—at least, not for another few minutes.

"I never thought that love would be my greatest sin," he finally said. "I wanted so badly to come back," he nearly sobbed, quickly putting his hand over his mouth to keep from interrupting the service below. He gathered himself for a few moments.

"To this place," he continued, "to my friends," he sighs before turning towards you, his fiery orbs still refusing to meet your gaze, "to you." Even when you cupped his cheek in your hand, his hand you left behind followed, fingers wrapping around your wrist. "That it would be greater than my love for God," he started but didn't finish when his voice began to rise again. By now he was rambling about things you hardly understood, but you hung on to every word.

"You said it yourself," you gently tease, more loving than lighthearted. "There is no love without sin." With a soft smile, your touch on his cheek stroked over the fur on his neck and drifted over what bare upper chest those undone buttons revealed. You knew you shouldn't, not here, but as his expression only grew more somber, you found yourself sliding your hand further, reaching the space above his heart for only a second before frantic yet gentle fingers pulled you away, afraid of what you'd find.

Or the lack thereof.

You couldn't stand to see him so sad, not even willing to look at you. As the preaching continued somewhere down below, something about fulfillment, there was really only one thing on your mind as you continued to watch his pained eyes. "Do you miss it?" You didn't mean to let your emotion ring in your tone as you whispered— doubt, disappointment, sadness. He picked up on it, raising his face once more to meet your gaze. Solemn eyes panicked, realizing his mistake. With a change of posture, he stepped closer, grasping your arm and placing your palm over his chest again. "Not in the same way I missed here," he reassured you. His eyes were still sad, but so earnest. You could feel the metal cross hanging from his pendant with how hard he pressed your palm into his chest. You both stared at one another in silence, but understanding.

Something about the word doom was quietly uttered through the archway.

"I realize now that I had already found Paradise," he proclaimed longingly, leaning in slightly. Though flattered, you only half-smiled.

"You shouldn't talk like that here," you whispered, cupping his jaw. "Surely it's a sin."

And he'd already cut his path of redemption short enough.

"And yet it would be a sin not to." His tone was almost desperate. He leaned in closer, head tilted dangerously close to a kiss. You began to protest, but his grip on your arm tightened in defiance. "My soul is already adrift elsewhere," he hissed in a hurried whisper, "and He has no use for my body." He shook his head in defeat, tilting his chin to kiss the hand that held him before looking back up. "So if it's all I have left, I will use it to worship who does." His voice cracked against your lips, and he practically fell into you.

Your back hit the wall with a thud that made you panic, but any protest of his name was muffled and lost between his lips. He could only follow what made him feel at the moment, and he'd come to his senses later, but right now, he was desperate to atone for his sins in a different way. It was a long, suffocating kiss that was touch-starved, hardly focused on any particular pleasure other than the need for your warmth. Despite knowing your current circumstances, you relaxed into him, taking your hand from his face and gripping the soft, indigo curls on the back of his head. He took that as his cue to press into you impossibly more, knees knocking with yours as you both nearly buckled from his weight.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, warm breath fanning against your cheek a few times before eagerly diving back in. This time, he moved with you. Your noses knocked each time he rolled his head to find his favorite angle, and, in annoyance, you tried to hold him still with your hand on his neck and your grip on his hair. In response, his lips parted, tongue lapping at your top lip and tentatively touching yours when you let him in.

His grip on your waist was harsh, almost as if he was scared that if he let go even a little, he might lose this moment forever. As if he couldn't hold you enough, his tail joined in, wrapping itself beneath your ass and tightly snaking around your waist. You felt him smile into the kiss when you pet over the peach fuzz of his tail before he abruptly pulled away from your lips, tongue sliding over your bottom lip as he withdrew into your neck. Sweetly, he kisses your pulse. And you know where he's going.

"We should 'port somewhere else," you suggest softly. The light kisses on your neck become open-mouthed and wet, showing you just what he thinks about your suggestion. You catch the words reunion with God bouncing off the wall, and you weren't sure if the devil himself said it or the clergyman was sermonizing below. You tilted your head back for him at the prickling feeling of his fangs.

With a mind of their own, your hands worked down the rest of the button on his shirt, splaying your fingers through the velvety fluff of his chest, barely able to feel the warm beating of his heart. At least you knew that he was alive, in some way or another.

Making sure you could feel all of him, you pushed his blazer and shirt off his shoulders, feeling him down and scratching over his abs just the way he used to like it, and he tensed them just the way you remember.

When his hands left your hips to slide off his clothes, they came back to do the same to you, sliding under your top and over your bare skin. You let him undress you, and eventually, you both stood nude.

Even after being… gone for so long, he remembered just where to touch you. He held your hips flush with his while licked over your nipple, pawed between your legs, and tickled your inner thigh with the curling of his fuzzy tail. Feeling boneless, the wall helped him to hold you up while you focused on covering your mouth to muffle your pleasured moans and sighs.

You were suddenly spun around, strong arms wrapped tightly around you as they swiftly lowered you to the wooden floor. Kurt's lithe form settled between your legs, back bowed as he bent down to mouth over your stomach. On his knees, he worshiped you carnally, hands gripping over-excitedly at your thighs and waist.

Fingers around your wrist pulled your hand from your mouth, quickly replaced with that crushing pair of full lips again. Some would say he was desecrating holy ground, but Kurt would say quite the opposite. In a nest of clothes, right there in the dark loft of his place of faith, he took you. Whether it was because he was most comforted here or because he was angry at the circumstances, his hips pumped into you with a fervor that had you clawing into his back and biting his shoulder to muffle your whines.

The floor was cold and hard and uncomfortable as he rocked you back and forth, but he was the opposite— warm and soft and lovingly fucking you into the ground. Luckily, the pious music drifting through the doorway covered up the sound of his cock slapping into you and his hissing moans as you bit and carved the punishment of love into his skin.

You were ripped from his shoulder when he sat up, not even bothering to cover your gasping moan at the change in angle. Blunt nails dug into your skin as he held your hips, making your legs squirm and draw up behind him with the overstimulated pleasure.

It was like a perverse religious painting, with his cross pendant wildly swinging above you and fangs gleaming along with his eyes; his tail, pointed like a devil's, bound your legs around his waist. This was heaven to him right now, watching you arch your back off the ground and eyes fluttering heavily as you both found that perfect sweet spot.

It was when you came on him that his glowing eyes beheld the glorious sight he was searching for. He kept going, desperate to keep the image of your moaning, parted lips in his mind, and keep the feeling of your warm cream that dripped over his cock. "Oh~ mein gott," he growled at the way you tightened around him. You could almost laugh at the way he said it if you weren't busy trying to recover. "(Y/N)," he panted and spoke your name like gospel. "My dearest."

Your only response could be a meek whimper of his name, but it was enough when you weakly rolled your head to look up at him. If you couldn't tell by the way his brows raised and furrowed, you knew that he was right on the edge by the constriction of his tail around your ankles, keeping you bound around him while he came, throbbing, deep inside you.

It was quiet now, aside from panting and the sounds of the congregation conversing and slowly departing that same creaking door that got you here in the first place. You felt you could finally relax and close your eyes when the last of the noise was shut out with the door, and you could finally stretch out your legs again as you felt his tail unravel. He had the same idea, stretching out his legs when he fell into your side. He let you have your space, but that sneaky tail laid loosely over your thigh.

You felt a sort of regret for him as you turned to take in the proper view of his nude form lying elegantly in your bed of disheveled clothes, wishing to know what this meant for him… but you weren't going to ask, letting him bask in release— whatever kind it was. You reached for his pendant, twirling the chain between your fingers and observing the discoloration of the metal cross. Without even opening an eye, he took your attention away from it with a touch, making you hold his hand against his chest instead.

"I-" You eventually break the silence but pause, unsure what excerpt you should say. It gets his attention, eyes lifting to look into yours. You muster a smile. "I'm glad you're back," you say softly, simply. Despite the circumstances, despite what it meant, despite what it's already done to you, you wanted to add, but his own bittersweet smile already knew what you meant.

"Me too," he whispered and brought your hand up from his chest to kiss your knuckles. "Me too, my dear."

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taylorman2274 · 5 months

Text

We Care About You (Part IV)

Your attempts to cater to their needs only leave them confused and concerned. However, just when you think of giving up, more barriers are broken.

Content Warning(s): Xiao Story Quest Spoilers; Liyue Archon Quest Act IV Spoilers

Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

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Taglist: @silverstarred; @victoria1676; @angelofdarkness2; @areaderspov; @andromeda-gay; @ash1; @mercy-not-merci; @toodledoodl3; @jellyedkazoo; @namine123; @innuwu; @agaygothicmushroom;

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When Genshin finally finished loading, you found your player character back where you originally left them before you were forced unconscious; in the bustling streets of Chihu Rock. The first thing you noticed was the red exclamation marks over the Paimon Menu, Events Menu, and Battle Pass Menu. However, you saw these exclamation marks nearly every time you logged on to Genshin, so you weren't surprised.

What does surprise you is that so far, everything appears to be... normal.

The Traveler was currently doing one of their idle animations, the NPCs were all in their familiar spots, and the leaves were subtly floating to the ground...

You began to grow suspicious.

You moved the Traveler one step to the left, cutting off their idle animation. They moved as you expected. Then you moved them right. Then up. Then down.

You looked at their face. They were staring back at you with lifeless eyes.

"But they're not lifeless..." you commented.

Next, you opened up the preceding menus. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Even Paimon was doing her usual shtick.

Finally, you turned the Traveler away from your gaze and had them walk a few steps forward. You had them perform their normal attack combo. No signs of restraint were noticeable.

"...I guess everything is as normal as possible," you noted. "I'll still do everything I promised myself I would do. I don't want to be deceived by false appearances."

You opened the party setup and began to remove everyone from your party aside from the Traveler. You had decided that since nobody specifically asked the Traveler to join them on their travels, you should only use the Traveler from now on. Sure, that may make things harder for you, but you were willing to take on the extra challenge if it meant that everybody was happy.

However, as much as you would prefer to avoid it, you knew that fighting enemies was inevitable. You were just going to need to be extra careful while fighting to make sure that the Traveler doesn't get hit.

"It's almost like I'm doing a no-hit challenge," you chuckled.

Lastly, you were going to take your time doing long quests such as Archon and Story quests. You figure that doing so many quests in a short amount of time would be tiring to the Traveler. Especially with how grueling some of them can be.

With that being said, you took the time to quickly organize the pages of notes on your side before setting off to the first commission of the day, conveniently in Liyue Harbor of all places.

...By walking, of course. Strictly walking while inside cities should be the norm from now on.

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The Traveler was nearly quivering in excitement.

The adrenaline rush that they got when they realized [Y/N] was back in Teyvat made them all hyper and focused. They were ready to do anything and everything with you. They wanted to sprint across the widest plains; climb atop the tallest mountains; and fight against the strongest enemies.

However, they have learned before that they need to be patient.

Over time, they have come to realize many patterns that you have while guiding them throughout Teyvat. One of these patterns was that you normally started working on the daily commissions first.

So they were a little surprised when the first thing you did was move them around, almost like you were testing to see if they would still follow your guidance.

"You don't have to worry about that, [Y/N]," they thought. "I'll always be here for you."

Not to worry though, [Y/N] went ahead and guided them to all the places where the commissions took place afterward. However, there were some things that they noticed while they were completing them.

The commissions involving the common folk and the time challenges went about the same way. It was the fighting commissions that had them asking questions.

What was the best way to describe it...? They still had no problem defeating the enemies, don't get them wrong, but they noticed that you seemed to be a little more... cautious?

Normally, [Y/N] would have them rush in and start swinging. Sure, this was reckless at times, and got themselves hit a couple of times, but that was honestly the fighting style that they were most accustomed to. However, this time they noticed that for whichever enemies they were fighting, they would focus on one at a time and balance an attack with a couple of dodges whenever their opponent attempted to strike back.

Furthermore, they also noticed that they were the only ones fighting. They know that [Y/N] is capable of guiding at most four people at once. So why were they only using them?

"Perhaps I can ask Paimon whenever [Y/N] leaves." they thought.

Not that they wanted you to leave, no no no. You had just come back to Teyvat after a whole week! They wanted to make up for lost time.

"If I counted right, that's all the commissions for today. Just got to visit Kathryne and then we can continue with our day. I wonder what we will get to do today. Are we gonna do some exploring? Fight amongst the ley lines? Meet up with old friends? I can't wait!"

They waited for their exchange with Kathryne to end so they could get back to your guidance. But suddenly, they began to feel themselves gaining control over their body.

...Wait.

... ... ...

Oh no...

...No...

No. No. No. No. NO! NO! NO! NO!

They know this feeling all too well. It was their least favorite part of the day.

...It was when you left Teyvat.

Just as their fears were confirmed, they gained control over their body again. Horrified, they quickly looked up at Celestia and prayed to the Archons that what was happening wasn't real.

Unfortunately, the light from Celestia came and went. [Y/N] was gone...

"Aww, already?" Paimon groaned, appearing out of thin air. "Paimon thought that [Y/N] would stay just a little bit longer."

The Traveler's eyes never left Celeste. They were holding on to the slim hope that the light returned. That [Y/N] would come right back and continue our adventures.

...But it never came.

"Hey, Traveler. Are you alright? You haven't moved in a while."

The Traveler finally took their eyes away from Celestia and sadly looked at Paimon. "I was so happy that [Y/N] came back. I was looking forward to spending all day with them. But in the end, they were only here for a few hours."

Paimon solemnly nodded. "Yeah, Paimon gets where you're coming from. But Paimon also says not to worry! It isn't often that [Y/N] leaves after completing the daily commissions. Maybe this is a one-time thing?"

The Traveler gave it some thought. They suppose that what Paimon is saying is true. There's no guarantee that this will happen again tomorrow.

Their mood picked up. "You're right, Paimon. Hopefully, we get to adventure with [Y/N] longer tomorrow."

Paimon smiled. "That's the spirit! Trust Paimon when she says that everything is going to be alright!"

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Time Skip

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...

... ...

... … …

...Three days...

It's been three days since [Y/N] first came back to Teyvat. They have since come back every day afterward.

...Three days...

It's been three days of completing commissions...

...And nothing else.

...Three days...

It's been three days since the Traveler realized that they were the only person [Y/N] used in their "adventure team".

They still remember how heartbroken Amber was when they met her.

"It wasn't something I did, was it?" she fretted with sorrowful eyes.

"Of course not!" they reassured, "You've done nothing wrong!"

However, they could tell that their words were not effective at uplifting the normally bright and cheerful outrider.

Now, [Y/N] was guiding them back to Kathryne again. Most likely the end of another day together.

... ... …

...No.

"I REFUSE!"

Going against [Y/N]'s guidance, they stopped in place. They were not going to let [Y/N] leave this time! They felt a couple of forceful nudges from [Y/N] but they were going to hold their ground for as long as it takes.

"No more commissions, [Y/N]. Let's go back to before. Explore Teyvat! Go fishing! Search for my sibling! Just don't leave again!"

...

... ...

... … …

...-hy?

..."Huh?"

"What di- ... -o wrong?"

"Is that...?" they wondered.

"I thought ... was doing ... -thing right?"

"[Y/N]?"

"I've done all the things that match their preferences. I've removed all the people who have jobs that prioritize their duties over adventuring; I've been careful while fighting enemies; I've even been spending as little time as possible to conserve their energy. So why are they still unhappy?

...So that's what has been the issue.

They wanted to tell you everything that was on their mind. But they couldn't bypass the restriction placed upon them.

This restriction in particular involved speaking freely towards [Y/N]. From what they understand, they are never able to say anything while being guided by [Y/N]. Instead, Paimon does most of the talking.

They still don't know much about it.

"...Maybe I'm not cut out for this after all. I should've known better..."

They didn't need to be told what that meant for the future.

After hearing that last sentence, they fought as hard as they could to break the speaking restriction, to tell [Y/N] something, anything, to stop them from leaving.

When they gained the slightest control over their body, they shouted: "[Y/N]! Wait! Don't leave!"

However, it didn't appear that they even heard them. Furthermore, they instantly felt a painful shock rush through their body. Punishment for breaking the rules.

The shock brought them to the ground, and they were in too much pain to notice the light from Celestia. And from what they had to guess, potentially for the last time.

"Traveler!" Paimon screamed, immediately floating down to nudge their body. "Quick! Get up! Get up! We've got to do something or else [Y/N] will be gone forever!"

Slowly but steadily, the Traveler brought themselves to their feet. They felt more defeated than ever. "It's too late, Paimon... I couldn't stop [Y/N] from leaving... It's all my fault."

Paimon was quick to shake her head. "Don't say that! You already know that we've never been able to talk with [Y/N] in the past."

"That still doesn't change the fact that [Y/N] is probably gone forever. They're never coming back."

Paimon frowned. She hadn't seen the Traveler like this since they met their sibling with Dainsleif. But as much as she wanted to cheer the Traveler up, she needed to find a way to reach [Y/N]. She quickly used all of her brain juice to come up with a solution.

"Paimon has an idea! Why don’t we ask Zhongli for help? He did assist us last time.”

The Traveler let out a weak, sad chuckle. “I doubt even Zhongli would know what to do in this scenario.”

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"I may know something we can do."

"Really?!" "You do?!" Both Paimon and the Traveler exclaimed respectively.

They really should stop doubting the capabilities of this man.

"I have no guarantee that this will work," explained Zhongli, "but I'm curious to see the results. I believe you two are familiar with the adepti art 'dream trawling'?"

"Mhm," Paimon nodded, "We were with Xiao when he had us perform it."

"I see. That will make things easier to understand," Zhongli remarked, closing his eyes. "If [Y/N] won't come to Teyvat anymore..."

His eyes opened, filled to the brim with determination. "We'll simply have to extend them an invitation."

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Author Side Notes: Sorry this took so long to get out. I was struggling with how I wanted to write this.

Additionally, I've felt like my writing is lacking with descriptors. I feel like I keep saying words like 'said', 'asked', and 'nodded' a lot, especially in the last chapter. I've gone back and edited as much of it as I could.

I want to do my best to write all of these characters so I feel pretty bad whenever I'm unable to properly describe a character's thoughts or emotions. Maybe it's something that I'll get better at as I continue writing.

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin self aware #sagau x reader #sagau #sagau genshin #platonic genshin x reader #platonic #gn reader #gender neutral reader #genshin impact

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vspin · 1 year

Text

On Act 3 and the lack of companion reactivity and dialogue.

So, I officially hit 400 hours on BG3 yesterday (no lifing it lmao) and I've been thinking about some things I wish Larian would improve or wish that they had implemented. A big thing that comes to mind is how much companion reactivity and dialogue abruptly stops in Act 3.

Act 1 really shines with companion reactivity. They always have something to say to the MC, to NPCs, or even to each other! I love the interaction after you use your ilithid powers for the first time and it's a 4 way conversation between everyone.

Then we get to Act 3 and there's such huge drop-off. Some big offenses:

Very little reaction to quests and locations. When I killed Raphael I only got comments from Astarion and Gale! Seriously?? We just survived a trip to the Hells! This happens with multiple quests

Blank faces when Durge is killed by Bhaal.

Camp is lifeless. Everyone just stands in front of their bed, There are no interactions.

In my playthrough, the Emporer admitted to my Tav he was manipulating her and didn't really care. It was bummer I couldn't talk to the other tadpole gang about it.

I remember coming across a Druid in the city. He was trying to heal a tree. So I went back and grabbed Halsin because he was complaining no one in the city cared about nature or balance. So I thought surely, he would have an interaction here! Nope, nothing!

As soon as you finish a companion's personal quest that is basically the end of your interactions with them; even if you romance them.

What I'd like to see: (Disclaimer: Just my opinions. I have no expectation of any of this being added to the game)

More camp interaction between companions. Jahiera and Minsc had a great example of this. Let there be a quick cutscene of Minsc and Halsin arm wrestling. Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion drinking wine. Anything. DA:I did a great job at this. It seemed like anytime I approached someone for dialogue they were in the middle of an interaction with someone else. Or events like the card game. It brought a lot of life into the party.

More random city encounters. They did a good job with Karlach; she has interactions with the steel watcher and her friend Fitz. Would have been cool to have some of those with Wyll, maybe he meets another noble or a flaming fist and has to deal with their shock of seeing him as a devil. Or with Gale in Sorcerous Sundries (he is a famous wizard after all!). Astarion mentions he needs to keep a low profile in the taverns; what if someone called him out!

More reactions to story events.

Expand on romances a bit more. We don't need it to be a dating sim but if you finish your LI's quest early on get used to just asking for small pecks and that's it. I would like to see more romance-specific dialogue for quest reactions.

And Finally:

We needed all companions at the final battle. Everyone should have been at the main keep before confronting the brain. You should have had your final conversations with them before you all potentially die in battle. DA:O style. A passionate kiss with your LI (not a tiny little peck lmao). This was a huge exclusion.

Anyway, these are my thoughts on the matter. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion #bg3 tav #baldur's gate 3 #astarion romance #shadowheart #lae'zel #wyll ravengard #gale of waterdeep #halsin #bg3 critical #bg3 mine

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formosusiniquis · 8 months

Text

This one goes out to that old guy I saw at walmart yesterday loading up his pioneer woman cookware onto his motorcycle while enter sandman played

steddie | G | WC: 1154

---

“Hey baby, can you?”

“No.”

Steve's sweet tone sours immediately returning to the much more familiar gently bitchy tone Eddie knows and loves. “You don't even know what I was gonna ask.”

“Twenty-five years of marriage, lawful and not, Sunshine. I know when you're about to ask me for some shit we don't need.”

“Why would I be calling you if we didn't need it?”

“Because if you needed it you would have told me about it when I said, ‘Stevie, sweetie, light of my life, sun to my dawn,’” he looks around trying to figure out where the hell they moved the oranges and why the produce section is never in the same configuration anytime he comes here. He makes eye contact with a kid wearing an artificially faded printing of his own tour merch looking at him with a starry eyed look of recognition not of the celebrity but of family.

“Did you forget where you were going with that old man?”

He decides he might as well put on a show, both halves of this conversation already know he's going to do what he's told. “‘Stevie, my one truth north, my muse, my reason to continue living, my dearest husband, I'm going to Walmart,’ I told you not but thirty minutes ago and asked if you needed me to get you anything and you said no.”

“Oh, you aren't going to monologue for your adoring public all the sweet names I called you?” Steve is amused, he can tell, he's always been able to tell. He's accepting this as his penance for not giving Eddie an actual grocery list when he left.

“Well dear heart I am in public, but if you think we can find another grocery store to go to after getting banned from this one. I guess there is the Kroger on the other side of town.” The kid laughs, tries to hide it behind their hand, but if Eddie has had anything in this life it's experience with teens eavesdropping on conversations they shouldn't be.

“Oh you're really hamming it up, huh, Teddy. Can I tell you what you're getting me yet or do you still have a couple minutes in your set?”

He's given up on oranges, moves on to the onion he actually came here for, the lone ingredient for dinner that he'd forgotten from his clicklist. If they want to actually have the roast tonight it needs to start soon. “What is it that you remembered we needed, oh song of my heart.”

“I already sent you the link so you get exactly what I want.”

It's just ominous enough of a non-answer that he pulls his phone out of his pocket, juggling it and the five things he'd already grabbed that weren't on his one item list. He doesn't have the time to regret not grabbing the cart he was sure he hadn't needed when he sees what he's been sent.

“I'm on my bike! Where am I going to put that?”

“I'm sorry, am I hearing you correctly? Was I right when I said, ‘Teddy bear, my stars, my bard-’”

“You aren't on speaker.”

“My beloved damsel in distress, maybe the motorcycle isn't the most efficient of midlife crisis vehicles. Aren't you going to want something with more trunk space, why don't you get a Caddy or a Bimmer for old times sake. And what did you say?”

“I don't recall.”

“Probably for the best wouldn't want you banned from Walmart, what would the tabloids say?”

“Nothing that would match your wit, Sweetheart. Does it have to be this one?”

“Yes, the plaid matches the kitchen remodel, so be a good boy and strap it to your bike. And remember we've still got one kid to put through school if she decides to go, don't bring home any strays with you. Do you need to do your encore now, baby?”

“I accept your quest, my dashing prince. I shall return home with my bounty posthaste.” Encore complete, audience still enraptured, Eddie dips into the sincere. It's been nearly thirty years together and he's not once ended a call without saying, “I love you.”

“Love you too, my knight in denim battle vest. I'll see you when you get home.”

The call ends with the usual dull toned beep beep, the playlist the call interrupted starts to filter back into his earbud. He realizes he's going to have to walk right past the kid to get to the side of the store with Steve's Instant Pot.

“Hear they're about to have a reunion tour,” he says gesturing down at the reprint of their Came Back Wrong Tour shirt. The faux-fading has left a crack through his own face at the bottom making him unrecognizable, not that he looks the same now as he did at 25. “Those old bands just don't know how to retire.”

“I think it's smart that they're playing up the recent tik tok fame.” The kid says, “No one's even seen their lead singer since the 90s and after their first national tour he'd started wearing that mask.”

It hurts a little bit the way the kid says 90s like it's some bygone era lost to time. Tries to appreciate instead how good the mask idea had been, he'd really been an innovator. “That was a pretty sweet gimmick, you think he'll bring it back? It's kind of Orville Peck's thing now isn't it.”

The kid slumps, managing the impressive feat of looking desolate while standing over the tomatoes. “Probably, not that I'll see it. I couldn't manage to get a ticket.”

That is something he can fix, “Here,” he manages to grab ahold of his wallet, “as luck would have it, I've got a couple spares.”

The kid looks torn between fear and elation, it's likely at least the second strangest thing to ever happen to them in a Walmart. “Oh I can't-”

“No strings, I got it through work for my sister-in-law to go with my husband. She asked why none of the good bands ever have reunion tours so… not going obviously. And my husband insists he's too old to be that close to the stage. You'd be doing me a favor really.”

“If you're sure,” they say, the hesitance more a mannered necessity than real.

“Sure as shooting. Seriously, here give me your name so my husband knows who to make the thank you note out to.”

“Aspen, thank you really!”

Twenty minutes later when he’s got a kitchen appliance bungied to the back of his bike he’ll appreciate that something good came out of this. Three weeks later when he’s standing at the front of a sold out arena he’ll mostly appreciate another chance to be dramatic, “This next one is for Aspen who didn’t laugh when an old man tried to flirt with his husband in the produce aisle. Gareth, count me in.”

#steddie #steddie fic #old man steddie #rockstar eddie munson

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kamaluhkhan · 9 months

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anti-curse

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of apollo!reader

summary: whether he knew it or not, percy jackson made the world a better, brighter place — and you intend to protect him, no matter what path the fates leads you down. fuck prophetic dreams. the future wasn't written in stone.

warnings/disclaimers: mentions of typical demigod things (battles, weapons, etc.); this is set during the heroes of olympus series so roughly follows that plot + features the seven demigods; mainly inspired by book!percy (dark hair, sea green eyes) bc that's the one i fell in love w growing up; characters are aged up from the book (reader + percy are meant to be 21-22 y/o) bc i imagine there was more time between prophecies/series....anyways, please enjoy <3

when you first met percy jackson, he almost shot you through the chest with an arrow.

given that apollo is your godly parent, you often found yourself at the archery field, which happened to be one of the first stops on percy’s tour of camp half-blood. after that first mishap, your other half-siblings were, understandably, too scared to let percy try again — frankly chiron seemed a bit hesitant as well — and you could sense that percy felt disheartened. so, you flashed the boy a reassuring smile before giving him a few pointers and a second chance. when he smiled back at you, you felt a fluttering in your stomach that told you percy jackson would be more than a little important in your life.

archery still wasn't percy's strong suit, but your gut feeling turned out to be true. you and percy had dealt with a lot since then — a handful of quests, several prophecies, more than a few near-death experiences, a titan war, and, maybe worst of all, high school. you couldn't imagine getting through any of it without him by your side, and you knew the feeling was mutual.

so, you were entirely anticipating that percy would be hurt by your announcement during dinner.

“no way that’s happening.” percy laughs, as if he can’t believe you’d suggest something as ridiculous as not having him accompany you on your quest. he remains unfazed, takes a sip of his electric blue coke before gesturing to the empty seat next to him. “come on, sunshine. have something to eat.”

the nickname sends your heart into a frenzy as you sit next to him. you and percy had never been anything other than friends, but sometimes....sometimes you look at his dangerous ocean eyes and wind-swept dark hair and it makes you blush. sometimes you consider the way his laughter fills you with warmth and his smile holds a thousand memories, the way he teases and winks at you and you decide that he makes your world so much brighter. sometimes you remember how sarcastic and thoughtful and loyal and reckless he is, his heart of gold and unpredictability of the sea. and you start to think that maybe possibly you'd fallen in love with your best friend.

that was not the issue at hand, though. you summon your favourite food and drink, but don't particularly feel like having either. percy returns to his conversation with hazel about how the two of you would drive up to montauk after you finally got your license, any time either of you needed to escape your reality, even just for a night. you'd sit on the beach, stargazing and roasting stale marshmallows and wishing to stay there forever. hazel seems to think that sounds like a nice escape, and percy promises that once the eight of you fulfill this prophecy, you'll all go to the beach house together, which makes hazel break out into a grin.

you can't help but smile at percy who loves his friends, who has loved you for so long. that feeling is quickly replaced by a pang in your chest that reminds you what's at stake. from the corner of your eye, you notice annabeth across from you, who looks at you like you’re a puzzle she can’t quite solve. you're trying to hide it, but if anyone can read you better than percy, it's annabeth. she knows something is weighing on your mind. you briefly lock eyes with jason, who you had gone to earlier for help, from the other side of the room, where he sits between piper and frank.

if you weren’t so distracted, you would have been able to enjoy dinner. the eight of you — all demigods of the current great prophecy — hadn’t been all together in a while, and it was nice to share a meal aboard the argo ii despite the reality of why you’d all been traveling together. leo had equipped the ship with magic plates and cups, and with the lively jokes and stories filling the air, you could almost imagine it was an ordinary summer evening at camp. you could almost forget that tomorrow, you had to go on a quest to rescue apollo and artemis from python, a monster so powerful your father barely defeated him thousands of years ago. you could almost ignore the impending war with gaea and the giants, and the doomed fate of the world if you were to fail. the one thing you could no longer ignore, however, is the gut feeling you have about the fate of the boy sitting next to you if your quest is to unfold the way you had first planned it.

you clear your throat, an attempt to interrupt the group's conversations.

“i was serious earlier,” you declare. “you’re not coming with me, percy. jason is.”

the smile percy had on his face fades. his eyes are filled with concern and disbelief, as he glances at you. “i – i don’t understand.”

"percy,” jason jumps in carefully, aware that he’s treading through dangerous waters like you had warned him. “y/n and i were strategizing earlier and it seems to make the most sense, given our powers combined."

percy shakes his head. “but — but you can’t just make last minute changes. we’ve already got everything set. right, valdez?”

leo shrugs, swallowing a mouthful of chicken before responding. “i don’t know, man. i’m no expert in quests, but it seems like i’m not the one who should be deciding this.” leo looks at you, and you nod gratefully.

you've been on edge since last night, and to calm your nerves you fiddle with the gold chain around your neck. it was a gift from your father: a necklace with a music note charm that can transform into an electric guitar or a bow and quiver. thankfully, you hadn't had to need both at the same time.

“it's up to me. and i want leo and jason to come with me.”

“then i’ll come too,” percy's voice remains calm, but insistant.

“isn’t there that thing about quests usually being done in threes?”

“that is true, piper,” percy agrees. he tilts his head towards you, like he's calling on you to remember. "exceptions have been made, though. like that one time with zoe." that had been years ago, when demigods from camp half-blood and hunters of artemis joined forces. five had been sent out on a quest, but only three came back. you shiver at the thought.

"or my quest through the labyrinth," annabeth recalls.

"but won't that also change our other plans, though?" hazel asks.

"not necessarily," you pipe in, your voice more assertive. "if jason and percy just switch. no harm done."

"we're not interchangeable," percy grumbles.

"hera sure seemed to think so!" leo searches the room for positive responses to his joke, but the most he gets is a half-hearted laugh from frank. "too soon?"

you take a deep breath. "it's not a big deal, really."

"it kind of is," percy counters. "you've never gone on a quest without me."

"you've gone on quests without me," you point out.

"that's...that's different."

"why? because i'm so weak that i need the son of the sea god to protect me at all times?"

you're giving percy the coldest stare you ever have. he hesitates to hold your gaze.

"you know that's not what i meant," he sighs.

"then what did you mean?"

percy looks at you, his eyes and tone softer. “look, sunshine, let's just stick with the plan, alright? we can just —”

“gods, you never listen, do you?" you finally snap. "you're not coming! i don’t want you there, percy!”

percy stares at you, stunned. you look around the table, and everyone looks back at you, wide-eyed. they weren’t used to this side of you, your sudden outburst not fitting in with your usually sunny disposition.

“well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” leo jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, with less than ideal results.

“you saw something in your dreams, didn’t you?” annabeth realizes.

her conclusion makes you freeze.

demigod dreams are always significant, carrying vivid images of monsters, messages from friends or enemies. some children of apollo like you had visions of the future — pseudo prophecies that are supposedly set to unfold given the path you’re on. technically, you weren’t supposed to share your visions, something about messing with fate or destiny, but that didn’t mean you had to accept the way things were.

what you saw in your dreams last night, what might happen to percy, made your blood run cold.

you would defy all the laws of the universe and divine rules if it meant you could protect him. so fuck the path the fates are attempting to lead you down, and fuck prophetic dreams. you refuse to let percy die. no matter how frustrated you’re acting towards him in this moment, you know he would still do the same for you.

you figure that the future isn't written in stone, right?

either way, you're willing to challenge destiny for percy jackson.

without answering annabeth, you get up from the table and take a deep breath, carefully avoiding percy’s gaze.

“i go with leo and jason, or i go alone.” your voice is steady, fighting the heavy beating of your heart and tears caught in your throat. “either way, i leave in the morning.” you exit the mess hall before anyone — before percy — can protest.

#Spotify #when i was younger i didn't think people would want to read all the stories i'd make up in my head about this series #so im glad the percy jackson renaissance is here #there's something so healing about writing + sharing this blurb even if i'm still nervous #might fuck around and write another part because i have so many ideas of where this could go #percy jackson #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #pjo hoo toa #hoo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #pjo #saf writes #riordanverse

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elizzsush · 2 months

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“Fuck you Comic Con nerds!” | DC - Batman WIP

Batfam X Isekaied Reader

— in which you, a DC fan gets isekaied into and gets saved by boy wonder. Only to get mad at him and B… it’s only after you calm down (still mad at them) you piece together what actually happened… but should you tell them?

AU: Soulmate (?), isekai Rating: Sfw

Note: You and Damien are the same age and shit. I don’t really remember how old he is but for the sake of fanfiction let’s age him up to 18 (or down I looked it up and it said he was 37? I have no idea where that info was from comic are confusing)

Warning: Y/N swears a lot and makes a like one sexual joke? _________________________________

One minute you were in the greatest, most magical place in the world: Six flags. And the next you were in the sewer. To say you were pissed and totally confused was an understatement. Those funnel cakes by the entrance were calling your name- you were gonna get one before you left! Now instead of that sweet cake smell it was replaced with the smell of shit and piss and whatever else lived in the sewer.

Sixflags was suppose to be relaxing- doctors orders. You just needed to relax and distract from-

You were in the sewers. You dreaded to think about what you may have stepped in while on your quest to find a manhole cover.

So yes, you looked like an idiot in a Superman cape carrying a Wayne enterprises mug wondering around the sewers. The mug was half off and made you feel like you existed in the world of DC instead of the regular merchandise… and the cape was because who doesn’t get a cape when they go to six flags? Or at least bring the cape they already bought with them. Looking back, you blamed the mug. Anyway, you were wandering around this horrible sewer with water greener then green. It seriously looked toxic… when you heard this horrible roar…

You glanced back from where you came- looking towards the sound, when you heard it again. So, like any sane person. You broke out into a sprint.

Bad ideas, because it heard you and was coming closer now.

You seriously doubted you would be able to outrun this thing for long. It was getting closer and rapidly. But, thankfully, luck was on your side- because you saw a manhole cover!

Climbing the ladder you pushed the thing open-

Only to almost get ran over by a fucking car! “Watch it!” You cursed at the speeding car, a certain finger proudly in the air as you climb out. Momentarily forgetting about the creature that was chasing you. Remember that you slammed the man hole cover shut in a hurry.

But, did you think you could compete with some monster when it comes to the battle of strength? Yeah, didn’t think so either. It blasted the manhole cover off of its neat little spot and you hurry back and away from the road. “What the- oh my god.” You breath in relief when the thing was too big to actually climb out of the sewers. “Killer croc… okay… I’m losing it… whatever it is…” you try and breath out to collect yourself but you were interrupted by the sound of a very angry lizard man… thing. Crocodile? “Okay fuck off!” You shouted angrily at the villain and rip your cap off. “Abusive aunts or some shit is hard but by god your annoying!” You huff and run away because that just made him more angry and you didn’t want to stick around for that.

You did run away while waving two fingers at him, each from the middle of two of your hands but that was neither here nor there. You just needed to walk away and clear your head-

And…

You bumped into someone on your little escape. A chest of a fucking cosplayer. “My day couldn’t be going worse- oh my god, Fuck you Comic Con nerds!” You swore at the boy in black, red and green. “Six flags was suppose to be fucking relaxing!” You swore at him and turned away to go the opposite way only to bare witness to the snarls of a certain croc

“get back here!” He made the fucking ground shake.

“Fuck you and your shitty Damien cosplay, I am out of here.” You turn and ran from him only he to met with the silhouette of a bat… man, it was fucking Batman. “Oh I wonder who it is? Bruce Wayne, no fucking duh, Go fight the idiot on acid and leave me out of it.” You hissed because you were cornered. You tend to lash out when your cornered. He approached you quieter now. “…Oh um, I’ll take the crocodile, thanks.” You spoke as you backed up only for him to make the ground shake harder-

“Fine! Boy wonder then god damn. At least he’s hot!”

“How do You know our names?” Boy wonder piped up. He was suddenly standing beside you.

“Are You dense or really into role play?” You hissed at them. “I don’t know what kind of budget your little prank crew is working with but screw off!” Just then the crocadile managed to ruin the ground around him and break free- resulting in Batman and Robin to fight him and you-

The sane one to run away, “I’m so suing six flags for this- didn’t sign up for their fucking role-play shit.”

—————————————

Okay, so after adjusting. You were no longer in six flags- nor some rich nerds cosplay special effects whatever. Hell you didn’t even somehow end up on a movie set shooting for the next Batman. “Gotham more like god dammit, right?” You joked to yourself, and the old women next to you. She just looked at you weirded out and oddly disappointed before shaking her head. “Okay, Fuck me then.”

So, yeah, you were feeling a lot of emotions. Hey, you can adjust to this! Because no way in hell was getting back to your world worth being involved in whatever episode or comic plot this whole thing was. Yeah no, fuck that. You made a checklist.

1. Get out of Gotham (metropolis was lovely, Superman was cool-)

2. Get enough money to fuck off to some corner of the world no one knew about.

And finally 3. Live peacefully knowing you’ll never get that funnel cake.

The only problem? You didn’t have any money, food, shelter, phone, money again, or anything besides the clothes on your back. And you were craving funnel cake. Yes, you were poor in Gotham. That was basically a death sentence.

At least you had a mug. A stupid, useless mug. Hey, at least you can beg for change with it! “I should rob people.” You mutter to yourself because, that seemed like a good easy way to get money- the old women next to you however eyed you warily and moved her purse. “Not you, we’re cool Margaret.” You sent her a wave and a wink and got up. This plan would work.

It was this or sell the Justice leagues names to villains. Which- hey that could make cash and make you dead!

—————————————

Despite what people will tell you, stealing is fun.

Who would have guessed- your a natural pick pocket! If pick pocketing was running past women and tugging their bags away. “My bag! My purse!” Okay, maybe you had a bit of a sick sense of humor but you were desperate! And you made 132 dollars and 25 cents. Had it been two days? Yes, had you been pepper sprayed twice? Yes again, but you avoided it!

The only regret you had? Why hadn’t it been marvel? Marvel just seemed easier to live in. Yes the world did end but it bounced back! You sighed and threw a penny in the air. You were honestly tired. Two days was a long time to go without a bed. You couldn’t get a job either, you tired and needed so much to prove you were a serial killer or a thief- which included a birth certificate you didn’t have and so much more. Background checks would be the death of you. Even at that small cafe you met Margret? Yeah it was Margret. “Well we’ll well, if it isn’t Gotham’s newest petty criminal.”

You dropped your penny. Leaving you with 24 cents.

It was Jason fucking Todd.

“If I die, at least make it by those thighs.” You said solemnly, accepting your death. “I mean seriously, you squat or something?” You did a wolf whistle and now you were being detained. Okay, you tried.

You never claimed to be better then a man. And if you did you lied.

“I got her B.”

“Banananannaan Batman! Da Na!” You sang as Batman’s Batmobile pulled into the bat cave. The same one you had been dragged too. “He’s the crime fighting vigilantes who works alone! Besides Robin, Nightwing, Gordon, the Justice League, batgirl, Red Robin, red hood, Oracle, Barbra, um… I know theirs more help me out jay bird?” You sang as he excited the car. “He refuses to kill the joker who’s a mass murder ands death would save thousands! It’s Batman! The hero man! Danananana!”

“How do You know?” Batman asked as he walked towards you.

“The Song? Oh I improvised. Hard to find rhymes for Batman, hero man is pretty good though, huh?” He fucking punched you! “Fuck! What the hell dude? Wait are you the angry Batman who’s quieter or the nice Batman- god it’s so hard to know which one I ended up with.”

“This is serious.” Dick Said as he grabbed Batman hand and pulled him away from you.

“Heard of coping? penis?” You rolled your eyes, “this is kinda how I do it.”

“You sold our information, or Superman’s information too a villain. Tell us why and how you knew it and we’ll let you go.” He continued, “our friend is in serious danger now because of you.” He gritted his teeth looking upset.

You just rolled your eyes and licked your now bloody teeth. “Would have sold your guys information for a lot more then I got on me. Living large with eight dogs- maybe cats? Don’t know how I feel about animals actually. Which do you prefer dogs or cats?”

“We need to know how many villains you sold us out too.” Dick said calmly, his face getting closer to your own. “Now.”

You smile and lean closer to him. “You free after this?” He backed away with a frustrated look and Batman put his hand on Dick shoulder. “Oh B is tapping in now- great!”

“Your the only person who knows who we are.” Another voice said you looked behind you and saw Damien.

“That you don’t trust. Maybe check your inner circles before punching a poor thief! God… you’d think the world greatest detective would fact check- oh wait isn’t the greatest a chimp or something? I’ve always loved monkeys- oh maybe I’d get a monkey for my pent house.”

“You have no family, no friends, no birth certificate- before last week you didn’t exist. There are no records of you being born or traveling to Gotham. Who exactly are you?” Batman leaned close to you.

You stayed silent, thinking of your options. "I was with a traveling circus..." You began, "Then one day someone rigged the equipment for my parent's routine and then batman adopted me, and that was how I began robin..." You spoke solemnly, you noticed how a certain blue suited bird man tensed up. "Aw, don't tell me we have the same backstory!" You accused the Nighwing, "well one of us is going to have to change it and I hate to tell you, but I make it work."

"She knows more about us than our names... or at least more about Nighwing." You heard a robin mutter, the red one.

"Okay being red was his thing” you look at red hood, “and you took it, so you have no place to talk about me and penis's copycat situation- Even though I totally did it first and he should change it." You nudged your head towards Red Hood, "Kinda like how you took his role as Robin, but you know what Ima stay away from that can of worms haha." You laughed awkwardly as Jason stood up from behind you and walked towards you menacingly.

"This is a Major Turn Off for me you know? The costumes just don’t do it- maybe if you strip-“ and your mouth was tapped shut.

_____________________________________NOTE: Y/N is supposed to be Deadpool coded because I was watching Deadpool and laughing my ass off earlier.

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 2 months

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PUT IT ON THE PLASTIC. 18+

tangerine x fem!reader — smut

summary. “the more you spend, the sweeter I fuck you tonight” prompt. requested here by @burneraccountbutiactivelyuseit tangerine wants to buy something for you, but you won’t let him. his offer changes your mind

word count. 1234

warnings. 18+ only! cunnilingus, pinv sex. tan being softly dominant and assertive (aka his best traits) minors dni

made the gif myself, that’s so embarrassing. that’s also why it looks like shit

Spending money isn’t something that comes naturally to you, especially when that said money is coming from the pocket of another.

Earlier today, you and Tangerine began the quest of shopping – his one goal in mind to treat you. But as the hours pass and the list of available stores grows shorter, your hands are yet to be filled with luxury bags.

You just didn’t want to spend his money, despite his persistent offerings.

“What about this one?” Tangerine asks from your right, nodding to the fancy shop up ahead. He was clearly exhausted from battling you and being on his feet all day, but he never let that show. He was too busy trying to get you to buy something. “Looks nice in there, no?”

“I don’t know,” you turn to look at him, face contorting in uncertainty. “I’m fine just getting a pretzel and going home.”

He shakes his head sternly. “That ain’t happening,” his palm slips from the small of your back and into your hand, his slight grip steering you into the luxury, high end store. “Let’s just have a little browse around, hm?”

This particular department store was far beyond the others you had stepped inside today – four internal floors filled with bedding, clothes, makeup, you name it. It had everything and it made those other rich, fancy shops look like shit.

“Right, where we going?” he asks, leading you towards the escalator – stepping on first, hand held tight onto yours as he helps you on. He steps down one so he’s behind to your side, his knee bending by yours like he was enclosing you – keeping you safe. “What do you fancy?

That same question he’s asked copious times today – what did you want?

You take a moment, trying to think of the cheapest thing you could buy to get him off your back. The thought of kitchen utensils coming to mind.

“We need a new spatula,” you suggest, looking over your shoulder to him.

“That’s need. Not want. That’s not the same,” he shakes his head at you. “What about some new shoes? A bag?”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“That’s a lie.”

You reach the next floor, and each of you step off – this floor just as extravagant as the one below, maybe even more so.

He had been hounding you all day to buy something, that by now you were so fed up with shopping. And so, to put yourselves out of the inevitable misery, you guide him over to the rails of clothing and pick out the first thing you see.

“I want this,” you lie, holding up a skirt that’s far from what you’d usually wear.

His head cocks to the side, eyes narrowing at you for a brief moment before they follow his hands – reaching into his pocket. He pulls out his wallet and steps closer to you, closing the distance.

“Got a proposition,” he starts, and places his bank card below your chin – hooking it under to lift your face, making you look at him. “The more you spend,” he pauses, leaning in closer to speak against your lips. “The sweeter I fuck you when we get back.”

Your breath hitches at the thought, a small almost gasp muffling into his mouth.

“That’s right,” he smiles ever so faintly against you. He pulls back and picks up your hand, placing his card in the centre of it – wrapping your fingers over the piece of plastic. “What’s mine is yours. Now, knock yourself out, love.”

Before long, you had made up for the whole day of missed purchases, maxing out the transaction limit at the checkout. Filling your hands with bags like he so desperately wanted at the beginning – though, you weren’t allowed to carry them. That was his job.

You held up your end of the deal, now it was his turn.

⎯ ☆ ⎯

Tangerine had you flat on the bed, your knees spread wide to accustom his broad shoulders. His face slotted between the inners of your thighs, tongue lapping leisurely at your cunt as if to prep you further for what's to come.

He had been at it a while, making out with your pussy, kissing and loving on you in the way you deserved after your long, laborious day of shopping.

The utter messy, wet state he had made of you purely from his mouth was all evidence of his care. All proof of his attentive nature.

He pulls away from between your thighs, his moustache and chin slick with everything he’s coaxed from you within your multiple orgasms. Placing a final kiss to your clit, he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and sits – adjusting on his knees between your legs.

Thick, large hand reaches into his boxers – his palm wrapping tight around his cock as he pulls it out over the waistband. He gives himself a few precautionary pumps, being careful not to blow his load there and then. Lining his dick with you, he swirls his head around your entrance, circling over your already sensitive cunt.

He rests the heavy weight of his cock against you as he moves position, leaning over your bare body below, hovering over you in the way you always liked.

“Picked out a lot today,” he whispers to your ear, speaking low and hushed as he guides himself into you – using the tip as a plug almost, letting you accommodate him. “Weren’t so hard now, was it?” he teases, pressing a kiss to the patch of skin below the lobe.

“Thank you,” you murmur, voice wavering –nearing on straining– when he sinks further into you, the feel of him literally knocking the air from your lungs. You loosely wrap your legs around his lower back, ankles hooking at his sides as you tuck your face into the crook of his neck. “For today,” you add, words muffling into his skin. “I really appreciate it.”

He knew you were. You were always so grateful for anything he did for you. Maybe that’s why he loved doing things for you, loved taking care of you – it was always clear of how much it meant.

“I know,” he hums, littering the length of your neck in soft, fluttery kisses. “You deserve it.”

And as those gentle, loving words leave his lips, he forcefully sinks the rest of himself into you – snatching a deep, breathy moan from the pits of your stomach. Like the act was so juxtaposing to his prior tender confession, that it almost undid his kind words.

He parts from the warmth of your neck, in which you do the same – mirroring his movements. Straightening his neck, he looks down at you below, watching those pretty, tiny microexpressions form across your features: knitted brows, soft eyes, parted lips. All of it ever so truly beautiful.

He bucks his hips experimentally, fucking into you for a brief, rough stroke, and when he sees that face, your face – he knew that’s what you wanted. But he doesn’t give it to you like that just yet, he’d never last.

So for now, he keeps that same steady pace, cock slowly sliding in and out of you, his face mere inches from yours as if to close any distance. Swallowing each other’s moans and sounds, his hand clasped tightly to the side of your face – keeping you there to never part from your gaze.

so not okay I want him so bad

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine smut #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x you #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine fic #tangerine oneshot

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thenerdyalien · 5 months

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My headcanon about Arthur's mortality (or how I think he was able to survive before Merlin came to Camelot)

"(The griffin is a creature of magic.) It is born of magic, sire, and it can only be killed by magic." - Gaius, S1E5

Alright, since Merlin is trending again for no reason I'll share one of my lastest headcanons I came up with during my last Merlin rewatch.

There was something about this line from Gaius and the way the camera then directly pans out to Arthur that made me think of an interesting headcanon that would explain how Arthur managed to survive so long without Merlin.

You see, according to this logic, because he was born of magic, Arthur can only be killed by magic (or weapons forged by magic *winkwink*). So he could never really die from simple illnesses or battle wounds unless those were directly inflicted by magic. And, since Uther started the purge against magic right after Arthur was born, he probably wouldn't have had much contact with it in his early years (at least until he became a knight and started going out on quests, raids, etc).

That would explain why (much like Merlin) he seems able to endure so many injuries (broken ribs, poisoned arrows, etc) that other knights can't. (I mean, just the fact that this man didn't sustain some severe brain damage from all the times he's been knocked out is impressive lol)

What I'm saying is that being born of magic must have given him some sort of endurance that other mortals don't have, because by Gaius' logic the circumstances of his birth in itself made him a sort of creature of magic (just like Merlin).

It would also make for a good Canon divergence fic in which this was the reason that made Uther start the purge in the first place (to protect his son from the only thing that could kill him)...and it can get even more angsty if you add in the fact that Merlin is literally magic itself, but I digress.

Anyway, I'm probably reading way too much into this. I doubt the writers would've thought so far ahead as to put foreshadowing so early on in the series. But I just thought it was an interesting headcanon and just another fun parallel between Merlin and Arthur.

#bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #arthur pendragon #merlin rewatch #merlin headcanons #merlin meta #merlin prompt #fic inspo

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guided-by-stars · 1 month

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One of the aspects of the systems of belief established in ISAT that makes it so fascinating to examine is that they are are centered around praxes that aren’t focused on as much in the major religions in our world.

Much has been said about how the Change belief encourages self-exploration, (transness is seen as holy, exploration of identity is encouraged) and pressures those who don’t want to change who they are (Mirabelle). The underlying core of the Change belief is action. Active Choice is more encouraged than anything else. The choice to change your body, the choice to change yourself, the choice to change your circumstances, the choice to go on a pilgrimage, the choice to learn new skills, etc. Of course passive change is also celebrated- death is seen as just another Change, and I assume that would apply to aging in general (appreciation of elders?), but it’s not as pushed. In this way, the Change belief encourages autonomy, control over your own life, and ownership of your life circumstances.

On the other hand, those who believe in the Universe as a force of power in the world are faced with the opposite pressure. When the King and Siffrin are relating for the first time over their shared culture, they both remember the phrase “The Universe leads, we can only follow.” The underlying core of their belief is that what is fated must happen, it’s inaction. Passivity. Any drastic action that is taken is justified by it being a path the Universe led them on. When the King starts the battle, he says “Let’s see which side the Universe favors!” Whoever ultimately wins at the end was fated to win, and that could never have been changed. It’s about resignation, acceptance.

This ultimately impacts everything about how the story plays out. When Siffrin first realizes he’s in a time loop, he’s excited! The Universe has given him the power to change things! He’s being led on a path where he can protect his friends and make sure everything is alright! They’re fated to win! As the futility of his quest sets in though, he very quickly turns to resignation instead. What’s the point of getting upset over having to die again and again? There’s nothing he can do about it. The Universe leads and he can only follow. If anyone else was the one looping, they would probably react quite differently just due to that.

However, it’s more complex than just that. What about Wish Craft? Isn’t that purely about taking action, making a Change? Well, partially, but because of the culture that everyone who knows about Wish Craft is part of, it’s seen more as appealing to the Universe. Asking, pleading, for the current to bring you down the left stream instead of the right in the fork in the waters. If you gain something from Wish Craft, you were given it, you didn’t take it. Once again, it’s passive. If Wish Craft was a Vaugardian thing, it would certainly be seen differently.

If the Change belief’s focus on action encourages autonomy, control over one’s life, and free will, what does that say about the Universes resignation and acceptance? Once again, I’m reminded of Euphrasie repeating words as if she’s prerecorded, skipping like grooves on a well-worn CD.

There’s also something to be said about how, in the Change religion, they appeal to a deity, one that you can have a personal and positive relationship with, and those who believe in the Universe are believing in an unfeeling force of nature. None of this is to say either is more beneficial than the other, the pressure to always Change can be extremely destructive, and sometimes acceptance is much better than change. It’s just fascinating how much they come into conflict with each other.

#religion!#in stars and time #isat #soliloquy #action vs inaction…

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crystallinestars · 4 months

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How They React to Your Death Part 2

I am back with more Genshin angst. Somehow, I feel like this part isn't as sad as the previous one, but it might just be author's bias.

Part 1 can be found here.

Characters: Gorou, Baizhu, Zhongli, Diluc, and Tighnari

WARNING:

Reader has death descriptions. Some are more graphic than others, but I don't get into the nitty gritty details

🐕 Gorou

Gorou had always harbored reservations about your participation on the battlefield. He had taught you how to fight upon your request and having fought many battles side-by-side, Gorou knew you were a capable fighter. But despite this, a part of him always worried about your safety. He couldn’t help it; he loved you too much to risk losing you.

He tried to keep you safe by suggesting you stay behind in Watatsumi and help Kokomi with strategizing, but this resulted in arguments between you. His ears flattened and his tail sagged like a scolded dog’s when you said you wanted to protect Watatsumi and its people since they were your home. Plus, you didn’t want to stay behind and anxiously wait for news from him just to know if he was still alive. Gorou had no comebacks to your points and could only sigh in resignation and apologize.

When the Watatsumi troops joined another battle against the Shogunate’s forces, Gorou trusted you to handle yourself. He had to believe you could because he couldn’t always protect you amid the chaotic battlefield. However, he forgot that there was more than just your life he needed to worry about. His own was at equal risk.

While fending off several opponents, Gorou didn’t notice an enemy sneaking up behind him until it was too late. Turning around, Gorou found himself with no time to react as the Shogunate soldier thrust his spear forward, prepared to impale the Watatsumi General through the chest. Gorou heard you shout his name, and then suddenly you appeared in front of him, intercepting the lethal blow. The strained little gasp of pain you let out as the weapon tore into your flesh ingrained itself into Gorou’s memory. He remained frozen in place, eyes wide with horror and disbelief as he watched you collapse to the ground.

Unfortunately, the enemy soldier gave him no time to come to your aid. Having retracted his spear, he aimed it once more at Gorou. Seized by panic, Gorou made quick work of the Shogunate scum before falling to his knees beside your figure.

The wound in your chest looked deep, as evident by the copious amounts of blood that seeped out from under your armor. He knew the situation was bad and that you might not even make it, but he tried to reassure you that he’d get you to a medic and you’d be fine. Despite his attempt to stay calm, internally he was panicking. Your eyes already looked unfocused, as if you couldn’t perceive the world around you. Gorou tore off the fabric of his pants and tried to bandage your wound to stave off the bleeding, but paused when you reached a hand up to touch his cheek. Your fingers were icy cold.

“Go…rou,” you croaked, your voice almost inaudible over the sounds of screaming and clashing metal of the ongoing war. Then, your hand fell away from his face, and you went still, your gaze hollow. Gorou called your name in a wavering voice. He repeated it several times and grasped onto your shoulders, begging you to respond to him, to please give him a sign that you were still with him.

You remained unresponsive.

Despair squeezed his heart like a suffocating vice, but he could not spare time to grieve for your passing. The battle was not over, and the Shogunate soldiers closed in on him once more. Reluctantly, he left your body where it was, and buried his anguish beneath a layer of anger and a desire for revenge.

That day, Gorou felled more enemies than he’d ever defeated in previous battles. He was ferocious, almost beastly in the way he slayed his opponents with a bow, teeth, and claws. It was a rookie mistake to let his anger blind him in his quest for vengeance, but Gorou couldn’t control the urge. He could either be a slave to his anger or let his sadness consume him to the point where he had no fight left in him. So, he fought.

Despite the losses Watatsumi suffered during the fight, Gorou’s army managed to win and push back the Shogunate forces. Once the fighting was over and the injured were rushed back to camp, Gorou made his way back to where your body lay in the blood-soaked ground amid the victorious cheers of his remaining men.

He knelt beside you and hugged your cold and stiff corpse in his arms tightly. He didn’t say a word, only closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as his shoulders shook in an attempt not to cry. There was a familiar stinging in his nose, and his vision blurred, but he refrained from crying. He couldn’t return to his men while looking like a weeping mess, because seeing their ever-confident and reliable General crying would shatter the soaring morale of their victory. But if anyone happened to look in Gorou’s direction, they’d see his hunched-over figure cradling you to his chest, while his ears drooped and his shoulders shook.

The days that followed were a blur. Gorou’s army returned to Watatsumi to recuperate and brief Kokomi on the results of the battle. Gorou was heralded as a hero for the fierce way he fought and brought victory for their cause, but the Watatsumi General couldn’t bring himself to feel happy. He tried to put on a smile and congratulate his men for helping to win the battle, made speeches to keep morale up, and oversaw the training of future soldiers. Life kept him busy, but there was a distinct hollowness to it now that you were gone. Before, he would take breaks from training to eat lunch or dinner with you, take walks by the beautiful beaches of Watatsumi, or hide away in your shared home and let you brush his tail much to his delight. Now… there was only an empty void.

When night fell and Gorou found himself lying alone in bed, he would surround himself with articles of your clothing that still carried your scent, and cry. When there was no one to see him fall apart, he would break down and cry hard while whimpering your name until sleep claimed him.

These crying fits only stopped when Kokomi approached him one day. She still looked composed and refined as always, but Gorou could see the sadness in her eyes that had become more prominent ever since she learned about your death. You were her dear friend, after all, and it pained her to lose you. She handed him a letter and explained that it was something you wanted her to give to Gorou in the event you perished in battle.

When Gorou fished out the letter and read the first few sentences, tears welled up in his eyes. The way you wrote to him was as if you were right there, speaking directly to him. He could almost hear your voice as you apologized for leaving him so early, but you were always prepared to give your life to him, Kokomi, and all of Watatsumi because you loved them so much. You told him to not let his grief consume him because you wanted him to enjoy the life you fought so hard to protect. Above all, you would be happiest if Watatsumi remained safe under his and Kokomi’s guidance.

It took Gorou several tries to read the letter since the tears blurred his vision, but once he calmed down, he found that the anguish in his heart lessened, if only a little. It would be a long road to come to terms with your death and not being able to enjoy life with you anymore, but for your sake, he will try. And maybe one day, once his own time comes, Gorou will tell you all about how Watatsumi overcame the war with the Shogunate and flourished in the following years, just as you hoped.

🐍 Baizhu

Baizhu is Liyue’s best doctor. He boasted a hefty record of healing patients with even the most obscure and difficult-to-treat illnesses, giving hope to the sick that they still had a chance to lead normal and healthy lives. But for all his amazing healing abilities, there were illnesses that even Baizhu could not cure. The day you died served as a stark reminder of his limitations.

You’ve been ill with a rare and mysterious illness ever since you were little. You had difficulties breathing, often coming down with severe coughs, and your body was weaker than normal, so you couldn’t participate in physical activities with other children. When the illness got particularly bad, you were left bedridden due to how weakened it made you. Worst of all, no cure for it existed. No matter how many doctors looked at you, nobody could figure out what caused your illness.

When you grew up, your condition worsened, but you had a shred of hope. Your parents heard about the amazing healing abilities of a doctor in Liyue, and your family traveled all the way to the Harbor in the hopes that Baizhu could cure you. To his chagrin and your disappointment, he could not. Even Changsheng’s powers couldn’t transfer your illness to him. Whatever disease you possessed was a result of your genetic composition, which made it all the more difficult to treat. The best he could do was concoct a medicine that staved off your symptoms, but it was by no means a cure.

Since then, you frequently came to Bubu Pharmacy to get medicine. Against all odds, you had become close to the doctor during your many visits and eventually became his lover.

Baizhu did all he could to search for a cure, not only because you were his patient, but also because he genuinely loved you and didn’t want to watch you suffer. However, despite the many late nights he spent researching and mixing various medicines, nothing helped you long-term. The best he could do was curb your symptoms for a time before you became resistant to the medicine and felt worse again.

The more time passed, the worse your body deteriorated. At first, you struggled to do any strenuous activities, so you resigned yourself to walking and not lifting anything heavy. Then walking became difficult, so Baizhu took the time to come visit you at home and give you new medicines to try in the hopes of getting you back on your feet. You would always smile and thank him, saying that he was better off focusing on his other patients, but Baizhu hated it when you said that. It sounded like you had given up on getting better. Even if you doubted you would live for very long, he promised he would find a way to cure you.

The doctor genuinely believed he could help you. It is a doctor’s job to heal the sick and save lives. No matter how impossible the task seemed, he believed there was a cure for your illness somewhere out there, it just needed to be discovered. But before he knew it, your condition got worse to the point that you coughed up blood and became bedridden, barely able to lift a spoon to feed yourself.

Baizhu experienced a rare panic, and spent all of his free time at your bedside, tending to you and giving you various medicines in the hopes of finding something that stuck. As the days passed and you continued to worsen, Baizhu still refused to give up. You had to get better eventually. You had to. Even as your breathing became weak and you could barely hold your eyes open or speak due to your feeble state, Baizhu refused to face the reality of your impending death.

Utilizing all the medicinal supplies and his knowledge, Baizhu continued to try and treat you. When that didn’t work, he tried to split the burden of your suffering by transferring some of the illness to himself using Changsheng. He would not—could not—give up. Even when your hand went limp in his, even when your breathing stilled and your pulse flatlined, even when Changsheng pleaded with him to stop, Baizhu didn’t pause in his desperate attempts to get you to open your eyes and smile at him again. Not until all his medical supplies were depleted and your body had grown cold.

He still refused to accept your death and his failure. If traditional medicine and Changsheng can’t help, what if a higher power intervened? What if you became a living corpse like Qiqi? Perhaps with the blessing of an adeptus, you could be brought back to life and continue to live together with him like before.

Hearing his deluded mumbling, Changsheng had to snap Baizhu out of his spiraling thoughts by reminding him that Qiqi’s case was special because she was still alive when she was granted an adeptus’s blessing. Her words cut him like a knife, for as much as Baizhu didn’t want to lose even this little shred of hope, he knew Changsheng was right. There truly is nothing that could bring you back.

At that point, Baizhu had to face reality. You were gone. Your illness ended up claiming your life despite his efforts.

That night was a rare time when Changsheng saw Baizhu weep. The doctor silently cried as he cradled your lifeless body in his arms, and apologized over and over for being unable to save you. He failed you both as a doctor and as your beloved, and the guilt ate him up inside.

Despite how firmly Baizhu believed that he could save everyone in need of his aid, deep down he knew it was improbable. Some injuries and illnesses were beyond saving. But out of all the people he couldn’t save, why did one of them have to be you?

Ever since the night of your passing, Baizhu slept poorly, plagued by guilt and self-loathing for not being the perfect doctor. The one person he wanted to save most, to spend the rest of his life with, was gone all because he wasn’t skilled enough.

Back when you were alive, he promised to create the elixir of immortality and get you to be the first to try it. He dreamed about a happy future where you, Changsheng, himself, and everyone else could all lead happy, healthy lives. But he was too late, and that promise was left broken, just like his promise to marry you one day.

Despite the tragedy, Baizhu tried to move on. His patients needed him. There were still so many lives he needed to save, so he couldn’t give up now. He tried to smile through the pain and work as usual, but even Qiqi could see how sad his smiles were. He is filled with longing whenever he thinks of you, as well as the ever-present guilt that never faded no matter how many years passed. Despite how painful it was for Baizhu to remember you, he held those memories dear to his heart. As short as your relationship had been, it was a truly special connection he knew he would never have with anyone else.

In the distant future, Baizhu will dedicate years of his life to researching your illness and developing a cure. Though the medicine won’t bring you back to him, he finds a bit of solace in knowing that no one else will have to lose their loved one to the disease the way he did.

🔶 Zhongli

Zhongli always knew you would die before him. You were a human, after all. Your lifespan was but a blink of an eye for his 6000-year-old existence.

When you expressed a desire to be in a long-term romantic relationship with him, Zhongli made it very clear that he was an ancient supernatural being who had lived thousands of years, and would live thousands more even after you die because his lifespan was unlike yours. He wondered if this would discourage you from pursuing him, but it did not. After carefully weighing the facts, you remained steadfast in your resolve to build a future with him, and he couldn’t help but admire your determination.

The decades you spent together were some of the happiest Zhongli ever had. You gifted him new memories and experiences of the simple, relaxed life he always wanted ever since he stepped down from his position as Liyue’s Archon. Drinking tea at the teahouse while chatting about his extensive knowledge on various topics, participating in festivals, hosting small gatherings to meet his adepti friends, and getting married were just some of the things you did together. Life was peaceful yet eventful, and Zhongli felt a sense of fulfillment from it. Being able to enjoy the fruits of his thousands of years’ worth of labor felt rewarding, and doubly so since he got to enjoy it with someone he loved.

As the years passed by, Zhongli noticed how your skin gradually developed wrinkles, and your hair gained new white strands. He knew you were getting older, while he still retained that ever-youthful appearance of a handsome young man. To avoid suspicion from the public, but most of all, to appease any insecurity you might have about growing old, Zhongli manipulated his appearance to age together with you. Each year, he added more wrinkles to his skin and grayness to his hair to match the speed of your own aging.

You were surprised when you first noticed these changes, but Zhongli could tell you appreciated his efforts. You had appeared downtrodden about growing older, while he still looked the same as the day you first met him. Now, you seemed more at ease, though he could still catch glimpses of sadness in your eyes. After all, the fact he had to manually age his appearance was a constant reminder that he was not human and that you would have to leave him one day.

As you grew older still and your body developed aches and pains that usually came with old age, Zhongli helped you through the difficulties. He did the more strenuous work around the house, supported you during walks, helped you read text you could no longer see clearly, and fetched your medicine from Bubu Pharmacy to keep your ailments at bay.

Despite the differences that came with you growing old, Zhongli never loved you any less. Everything about him was as constant as the bedrock of Liyue itself, and his love for you never wavered. Even when your beautiful, youthful looks faded, and he had to take care of your frail body, he still loved you just as much as when you first became a couple, if not more. He loved the person you were on the inside more than what you looked like on the outside, and in his eyes, your beauty never faded.

However, it still pained Zhongli to see your lovely hair grow white, and your body weak. It meant that death would come for you soon, and you would have to part ways. He knew it was inevitable, but a part of him silently pleaded ‘Not yet. Don’t go just yet, please stay a little longer.’

As you reached your late 80s, your health grew worse to the point you spent most of your time at home. Both you and Zhongli could tell that your time would come any day now, but you said that you were prepared. You got to live a long, happy life and had no major regrets, so death didn’t scare you. Rather, you have grown to accept it.

Zhongli would stay up late at night in bed with you to watch your sleeping face, trying to ingrain the memory of your features and of being together into his mind, because he knew each night might be the last.

One night, Zhongli woke up to the sensation of your life force growing faint, until it completely disappeared. He didn’t need to check your pulse to know you had passed away since he felt it. Your spirit was gone. His heart sank at the realization that this was it. He would no longer get to hear your voice, see your reactions to his stories and affections, or make new memories with you.

Zhongli had lost countless friends and companions throughout the Archon War. He was used to death and saying goodbye, but each time was no easier than the last. The weight of loss settled heavily on him because, despite the years he spent mentally and emotionally preparing for your death, it was still difficult to sit there beside your lifeless body and accept the fact you were gone. There were still so many things he wanted to experience with you. It was truly unfortunate that your human lifespan was so painfully short.

Zhongli took your limp hand in his and held it for a while as his mind went through your shared memories together. In his memories, you were vibrant and lively, the opposite of how lifeless you appeared now. With the part of you he loved most gone, all that remained was a body of flesh that appeared almost like a stranger. It made him miss you, but also helped in coming to terms with your passing.

He mourned for you throughout the night, up until the sun rose above the horizon.

Zhongli took part in arranging your funeral. He carefully supervised every step of the process to ensure your funeral was perfect, and that you were given the proper respect in your journey to the afterlife. Once you were laid to rest, he found himself wandering around aimlessly most days. He walked along the same paths the two of you used to take strolls on, visited your favorite locations in Liyue Harbor, and frequently brought your favorite food as an offering to your grave.

At the teahouse, Zhongli sat at the same table where you always had your dates and stared at the empty seat where you used to sit. He could picture with perfect clarity how you used to sit in that same chair and give him your undivided attention when he recounted tales of times past, and he always loved it when you did. Now, he could only stare off into the distance while reminiscing about the good times he shared with you. Though Zhongli was saddened he couldn’t make more memories with you, the ones he did have made him grateful that you had been a part of his life.

🦉 Diluc

Diluc met you shortly after you arrived in Mondstadt with nothing but a satchel of mora and the clothes on your back. You said you came to the nation of freedom in the hopes of starting a new life but never disclosed any details about your past. Though he was curious about the life you led prior, Diluc learned to let it go. After all, Mondstadt was home to many people with mysterious backgrounds and origins, so what’s one more?

During the months you spent together, you had both fallen in love with each other and began a courtship. Diluc knew with certainty that he wanted to marry you, so one fateful night, he got down on one knee before you and presented a golden ring topped with a piece of garnet. You said yes, and Diluc felt the happiest that night than he had in a long time, not since his father’s passing several years ago. Now, he was looking forward to having a family again.

After Diluc lost his father, Adelinde and Elzer were saddened by the drastic change in their Young Master. Diluc used to be so optimistic and passionate, brimming with the desire to become a knight and help people. After Crepus’s death, he had become closed off and aloof, becoming bitter at the corruption running rampant within the Knights of Favonius. However, with your arrival at the estate, Diluc seemed to slowly warm up and smile more, and the senior servants couldn’t be happier by the positive change. They hoped that your union would heal their Master’s wounded heart.

Initially, Diluc didn’t plan to host an engagement party, but his butler Elzer convinced him to go through with the Ragnvindr family tradition. With your agreement, Diluc hosted a ball and invited prominent figures in the business world to attend, most of whom he worked with. During the party, he introduced you to his business partners, making idle chatter and receiving congratulations on your engagement. Everything seemed to be going well, albeit a tad boring, until the two of you were approached by an unfamiliar man in a lavish suit.

The man said he was an acquaintance of yours, and sure enough, you seemed to recognize him. However, the way your posture stiffened, and the color drained from your face set Diluc on edge. He wanted to reject the man’s request to speak with you in private, but you interjected and agreed. Diluc didn’t want to leave you alone with someone who made you uncomfortable, but the pointed look you gave him made Diluc hold back his protests. With great reluctance, he let you go.

He was anxious the entire time you were gone, unable to fully focus on the business conversations and propositions he was discussing with some of the guests. To his great relief, you returned safe and sound, albeit with a troubled expression on your face. Diluc made a mental note to ask you about what happened once the ball ended.

The man you spoke with didn’t reappear that night, and the party came to a successful close after plenty of eating, drinking, and dancing.

Later that night, you fell sick. You were vomiting and sweating quite a bit, and at first, Diluc thought you had food poisoning. However, when he noticed you were vomiting blood, panic surged through him. You were poisoned.

He called his servants and asked them to fetch a medic, but your condition continued to deteriorate quickly. In mere minutes, you were unable to stay standing and were gasping for breath, so Diluc laid you down on the bed. Tears streamed down your cheeks while you apologized to him, as if you knew you were going to die and why. As if someone intentionally poisoned you.

Diluc tried asking for more information, but by that point, you could barely breathe, much less get a word out. All you did was futilely gasp for air while gazing at him with eyes full of remorse and fear.

Diluc didn’t want to think about the possibility of you dying because the mere thought opened old wounds that never fully healed. But as he watched you slowly suffocate; it triggered a surge of fear in him. This scenario felt so familiar. It reminded him of how Crepus died. Due to the Fatui’s schemes, his father had disintegrated into nothing in his arms, leaving him and Kaeya alone to pick up the pieces. He couldn’t do anything to save his father then, and it frustrated him that he couldn’t do anything for you now, except sit there in fear and despair. Diluc gently took your hand in his, both for your comfort and his, and you clung to his hands like a vice. Despite Diluc’s empty reassurances that you’ll be alright, that the medic is on his way, you had passed away in front of his eyes with a pained expression on your face. The sight of your last moments made his stomach churn.

As he sat beside your body in the dark room shrouded by night, his thoughts shifted to the reason behind your death. You were poisoned, but why? Did someone do it to try and get to him? He did have many enemies, after all. Then, he remembered the suspicious man that had terrified you so much and couldn’t help but think the secret lay with him. Whatever the case, Diluc swore to get down to the truth of the matter.

He gently removed the engagement ring from your finger and hung it on a chain around his neck to always keep with him as a memento. A reminder of the future he was robbed of with you, and of your life which was taken far too early and cruelly.

News of your poisoning spread to the Knights of Favonius. Jean organized an investigation team to catch the culprit and bring them to justice, but Diluc knew it would take them too long. Even after the Knights had improved their ethics with Varka, Jean, and Kaeya at the helm, Diluc was still reluctant to leave everything to them. He insisted on investigating the matter himself. After many weeks of searching for clues, and even partnering up with Kaeya, Diluc managed to find the truth behind your murder. It infuriated him. You were once a Fatuus but had defected from the organization and ran away to Mondstadt to start a new life. You wanted a life where you were free to live the way you wanted, instead of being forced to commit atrocities in the name of the Tsaritsa. But nobody leaves the Fatui alive. Your superiors had found you and sent a Fatuus to infiltrate the ball. After you resisted their attempts to coerce you to return, sometime during the party they spiked your drinking glass with poison, which was how you perished. You were killed for wanting to live your life for yourself.

The injustice behind your death pushed Diluc on a quest for revenge. He swore upon the ring hanging from his neck that your murderers would atone for what they did. After delegating the running of the Winery to Elzer, Diluc packed necessities and embarked on a Fatui hunt. Over the next few months, he diligently searched and hunted down every member of the Fatui squad that killed you. He refused to take breaks, searching day and night for the exact location of the perpetrators and planning his revenge. He had tunnel vision that wouldn’t go away until his mission was completed. Diluc successfully slayed every Fatuus involved in your death. None were spared. Once his mission ended, Diluc returned to Mondstadt, but he became colder than before, much to Adelinde and Elzer’s dismay. He was more stoic and aloof than before, rarely smiling or expressing any emotion. He completely closed himself off, not allowing anyone to get close. Diluc had lost too many people he loved and didn’t want to grow attached and experience another potential loss. Sometimes, Adelinde would catch him sitting idly by a window and staring outside with a pensive, almost sad expression while twirling the ring around his neck. Elzer would spot Diluc standing by your and Crepus’s graves in the light of dawn, presumably after returning from another patrol around the city. Diluc would stand there for a while with his head lowered, looking so lonely and defeated, before heading inside the manor.

Diluc would never find someone new to love, of that he was certain. He will continue to wear the engagement ring around his neck up until the day he dies, and when he does, he hopes he will be buried alongside you and his father. If he cannot be with those he loves in life, then maybe he can be with them in death. Until then, he will push on and continue to live, blazing a path of justice to protect the citizens of Mondstadt so that no more victims end up like you and his father.

🍄 Tighnari

When a mother reported her child had gone missing within a withering zone in the Avidya Forest, Tighnari immediately dispatched a search and rescue team.

As a fellow forest ranger, you wanted to come along to help look for the child. Tighnari knew you were fairly capable of handling yourself despite not having a vision, but just to be safe, he paired you up with Collei. After all, it was already dark, and who knew what dangers lurked within the afflicted forest.

Right before you and Collei set out to search your assigned part of the forest, Tighnari told you both to stay safe and vigilant. Never did he think the reassuring smile you gave would be the last time he would see you alive.

He managed to find the missing boy before the withering got to him, and escorted the child back to camp for a checkup. As time passed, the other rangers returned, but you and Collei were nowhere in sight. Just as Tighnari was starting to get worried, Collei rushed over to him, out of breath.

In a panic, she explained that your pair had run into a hilichurl camp within the withering zone, and were chased by hilichurls through the forest. She got separated from you in the dark, and wasn’t able to find you again despite searching for a while.

Tighnari fought to stay calm as he rushed towards the location of the withering zone, and stopped when he saw your figure collapsed on the ground just outside the boundary. His heart dropped at the sight, and he quickly knelt beside you to check your vitals.

You had no pulse.

Tighnari felt like he was dreaming, as if he was watching someone else kneeling beside your body. That this wasn’t real. But as he looked at your glazed eyes which stared off into the distance, never once looking at him, reality set in.

You were dead.

Once he accepted that fact, Tighnari’s heart felt heavy, as if weighed down by an anchor.

You had tried to find your way back to camp, but having spent too much time in the withering zone, and not being a vision holder, you had inevitably succumbed to its effects just as you had gotten out of the zone. A pang of guilt welled within his chest. If he had paired up with you instead, or assigned you a different area to search through, would you have made it out alive? These thoughts looped in his mind and wouldn’t leave Tighnari alone.

When he returned to camp a while later, the rest of the Forest Rangers saw him carrying your body with a grim expression on his face. The fact Tighnari wasn’t asking for immediate medical assistance, and the way his ears drooped low, were all the rest of the Rangers needed to know you had died.

The guilt persisted like a phantom all throughout your funeral, and the days that followed after as he tried to keep it together. Breaking the news to your parents was difficult, but Tighnari forced himself to be the one to tell them. He was prepared for their devastation, and subsequent angry accusations for not protecting you like he promised. For once, he didn’t sass back, but rather quietly accepted their hatred. He believed that they had every right to blame him. After all, Tighnari was the one who was supposed to keep you safe, both as the leader of the Forest Rangers, and as your lover.

Tighnari never thought he would miss you as strongly as he currently did now that you were gone. It was nothing new for you to go days without seeing each other because he sometimes had to go to Sumeru City to give lectures or conduct botany experiments in Pardis Dhyai.

But this time was different. This time, he knew he would never see you again.

Never again will he come home to be greeted with your smile, and he missed the warm feeling that filled his heart back then. He missed your voice, the way you pet his ears and tail, the meals you brought him when he was busy with work, the letters you wrote to him when he was out on a trip… he missed you.

Some nights, he would wake up with tears in his eyes, filled with longing for the happy dreams he had about you. But they will forever remain only dreams, taunting him with a life he can no longer have because you’re not here anymore.

You will never return, and Tighnari was left with a heavy feeling in his chest that refused to completely go away no matter how many years passed. He will always regret sending you out with Collei that day.

He threw himself into his work to distract from the ache in his heart. The thought of someone else dying to the withering like you did scared him, so Tighnari made it his mission to eliminate all the withering zones in the forest. He never wanted something similar to happen to anyone else, and it was the only way he thought he could atone.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #gorou x reader #baizhu x reader #zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #tighnari x reader

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girlgenius1111 · 8 months

Text

you can face this

barça x reader

r struggles with an eating disorder. her teammates catch on.

this [obviously] contains descriptions of an eating disorder. do not read if this could be triggering to you. please, just don't.

-----

You hadn't really realized that it had gotten bad again. It was one of those things that crept on you, unconscious bad habits making a return until you had fully relapsed. It was 0-100, and it was even more complicated now that you played for Barça. Not just because of the overbearing teammates, but also because your fitness was strictly kept track of- you had to remain at a weight that wouldn't flag with the physios, or affect your strength too much. But another part of you still hated that number on the scale- it was a constant battle between those two parts of you. The rational side, trying to keep it together, and the not so rational side that didn't care what it destroyed on it's quest to be smaller.

You kept up a surprisingly strong façade. It was easier when the team wasn't traveling, and obviously more complicated when you were. You lived alone in Barcelona, in a perfect little apartment, rather close by to the homes of your teammates, namely Alexia. She liked the younger players to live nearby, so she could keep an eye on everyone, she said.

Your teammates could tell you were having a hard time; it was obvious by the way they worked harder to get a laugh out of you, how they'd show up to hangout of the blue, just because they were in the neighborhood. None of them had approached you about what was bothering you yet, and you assumed they didn't have any idea what was really going on. There were clues, though, ones you weren't aware of, that they were most certainly picking up on.

The first clues weren't much; the way you'd pick at your food whenever you ate with the team. For your part, you did well to hide the fact that every bite was painful to choke down. Still, there was just something slightly off.

It was the quieter members of the team that noticed other things, but they didn't bring them up to anyone else, not yet. Not when it was just you changing rather quickly in the locker room, or how you often showed up at team dinners claiming to have already eaten.

-----

The first person to really notice that something wasn't just a little off, that something was wrong, was Pina. The two of you had finally convinced Alexia to allow you to room together; previously, she'd said no, arguing that you two would inevitably get up to trouble left to your own devices. You'd worn Alexia out, though, and both you and Pina were practically giddy when she'd flashed you with a warning look and read off your names together.

You'd managed to put it out of your head, how much of a hard time you were having. Until dinner that night. It was a rough day, rougher than you were used to, and while you normally could pretend pretty well in front of the team, you didn't feel like that was possible this particular evening. You'd gone to dinner, eaten as much as you could bare, before you mumbled something to the table about having a headache, and slipping back off to your room.

You were overwhelmed, really, and feeling incredibly alone. Something deep inside of you ached, and you wanted it to stop, leave you alone, just for one night. You were so frustrated, and pathetically, so sad. You thought you would have more time before Pina came back to the room, so you gave yourself the grace to breakdown, just a little. You could shower, wash away all traces of the tears, and be back to normal by the time your roommate returned.

What you somehow forgot, however, was that Pina was, while silly and mischievous, also one of the kindest people you'd ever met. You should have known that she'd come check on you, but you were slightly preoccupied with trying to keep a handle on your breakdown.

You didn't hear the click of the key card just before the door opened, and you were caught completely off guard when Claudia stepped inside, her face scrunching with worry as she caught sight of you curled up in the cozy chair in the corner of the room, sobbing quietly into your hands.

"Amiga! What is it?" She asked, rushing over to you. "Is it your headache? Should I get a physio?"

"No, I'm fine, Pina," you replied, wiping furiously at the tears that were still insisting on spilling from your eyes.

"Why are you crying if you're fine?" Pina asked in a quieter voice, on of her hands coming to rest on your knee.

“Claudia, seriously, I’m fine.” You insisted. You looked at her, then, and you looked so devastated, Pina knew instantly that you were lying. She felt so out of her league, so unsure what to do.

“Stay here.” She said after a minute, practically sprinting out of the room.

You knew she’d come back with someone, whoever she could find to fix you. This was the a job for an older player, not her. She gave good hugs, and could always make you laugh, but you needed someone older, someone wiser.

You sighed, knowing there was nothing you could do to stop her. You could only wait, and try to calm down.

You'd stopped crying, you really had, by the time Pina returned with Mapi in tow. You were prepared to act as though your friend was being dramatic, and really, you were fine, but then Mapi walked in, looking like she'd run the whole way to your room to check on you. The serious look on her face was such a departure from how she normally acted, that you were rather thrown off. She caught sight of you sitting on the bed, your red face, the slight downturn of your lips. What really got you was the way she didn't even say anything; she simply walked closer and opened her arms.

You were moving before you could even think to remain where you were, falling easily into the older girl's arms. They wrapped tight around you, and you buried your face in her shoulder. Tears ran off your face, collecting on Mapi's sweatshirt, but she held tight to you, one arm around your back, another holding your head close against her.

"It's alright, chica, we've got you." She murmured. You allowed yourself to sink into the comfort. For a moment, pretending that you weren't keeping so much inside, hidden away from the people that cared about you. You pretended that Mapi knew what was going on, and she was holding tight to you as reassurance, an unspoken promise that you'd be alright.

She didn't know what was wrong, though, and you weren't sure you'd be alright, not really. The little bubble of comfort and safety was broken when the defender pulled back, hands on your shoulders as she looked searchingly at you.

"What happened?" She asked. Her grip on you was tight, and you knew she wouldn't let go until you answered her. Pina was visible, just over Mapi’s shoulder, fidgeting with her hands and looking on nervously. Your only possible course of action was to lie, and to lie well.

"I don't know, I think I'm about to get my period or something," you lied. "I was just kind of sad, but it's fine, I'm fine now."

Mapi didn't look convince, nor did Pina.

"Are you sure? If something is bothering me, you can tell me. Or I can get Alexia if you want," Mapi suggested, beginning to turn toward the door.

That, you absolutely could not let happen. Alexia would get the truth out of you in seconds, especially when you were already so upset.

"No, seriously Mapi, I'm fine. Don't bother Alexia." You insisted, catching her arm and spinning her back around.

She eyed you for a minute, completely straight faced, before holding out her pinky to you. "Promise you are okay?" She asked.

You rolled your eyes, but linked your pinky with hers. "I promise."

She seemed satisfied after that, and you felt guilty about lying. It was for the best, though. You didn't need to worry your teammates, not when you were fine. Not when you had everything under control. Obviously, your motivation to lie went much deeper than that; the fear that they'd make you stop was suffocating.

-----

You shouldn't have felt guilty for lying, because Mapi went right to Alexia anyway. The Catalan Captain miraculously had her own room, for the 4th trip that year, although no one felt brave enough to comment on it. She opened the door warily, thinking Mapi was knocking just to chat, which she got enough of during the daytime hours.

"María, I'm really tired," Alexia started, glancing longingly back at her bed, where a nighttime call with her girlfriend and a cozy blanket awaited her.

"It's about y/n. I think something's wrong."

As Mapi had predicted, she didn't need to say more before Alexia was, now wide awake, stepping to the side, motioning for the defender to walk in.

"What is it?" She demanded once the door was shut behind her.

"Pina came to get me, and she said y/n was really upset about something, but she was pretending she was fine. I went back to their room and she had stopped crying, but as soon as I gave her a hug, she started crying again. And then once she'd stopped crying, she tried to tell me she was fine, something about getting her period and being sad for no reason. She pinky promised, but she was lying, Ale, I could tell. She looked so upset, like she was barely holding it together." Mapi's worry was evident in her tone, and, like you, Alexia noted the seriousness that was present on her friend's face. It wasn't normal, and it meant that, likely, there really was something to be worried about.

"Do you have any idea what she could be upset about?"

"No, not really. She's been a little off, I guess, but I can't think of what could be wrong."

Alexia sighed, silently agreeing with Mapi that you had been acting weird, but also that she couldn't think of a reason for it.

"I'll keep an eye on her, and I'll tell a couple of the others to as well. If something else happens, we can talk to her again." Alexia decided, somewhat uneasily. She wanted to figure out what was wrong, and fix it now, but suffocating you while you were already upset probably wasn't the best idea.

-----

In hindsight, maybe Alexia should have done something sooner. Your behavior remained off, but nothing else occurred that would really raise any red flags. That was, until the team had a double training session, and everyone ate lunch together. You had noticed more eyes on you in the last week, and figured that Mapi had probably asked a few of the older girls to keep an eye on you.

In an effort to convince them you were fine, you forced yourself to eat a normal amount of food at lunch, more than the carefully calculated portion you were intending to consume. It was alright, at first. You were able to distract yourself, joking around with your teammates. When you glanced down at your plate, though, finding it empty, you felt a wave of horror wash over you. You had no choice, no other option. It was too much. You couldn't do this.

You slipped away from the table after a couple of minutes of trying to calm yourself down. It felt like everyone was looking at you, judging you. You made it to the bathroom and kneeled in front of the toilet.

In that moment, you hated yourself. For eating too much, for caring about eating too much. For doing this. Tears fell, unrelated to what you were forcing your body to do. You just wanted to be normal, to feel good. You wanted to look in the mirror, and not hate what you saw looking back at you. You wanted to see what everyone else apparently saw; a normal, average looking person. You hated this, hated what you were doing, but you couldn't stop. You wanted to, more than anything.

When the door creaked open, and you realized you hadn't locked the door behind you, you were caught in the worst position possible. You didn't need to look up, see the disgusted faces looking back at you, to know that you wouldn't be able to play this off. It was obvious that you weren't just ill. You were sick.

You didn't look up, couldn't look up, at whoever was at the door. You sat back against the wall, staring numbly at the floor.

"Go get Alexia. Discreetly." You heard Ingrid instruct, and you heard Aitana reply quietly before her footsteps echoed back down the hall.

The resounding emotion was shame; for being so weak, for being caught doing this. You felt so stupid. You were an athlete, you couldn't be behaving like this. At the same time, the need to lie, to not let them make you stop persisted. You were torn, completely at a loss for words. So, instead of saying something you couldn't think through all the way, you remained quiet.

------

Aitana ran like there was a fire to the cafeteria, only slowing to a walk when she neared the doors. Her heart ached for you, truly. You'd looked so destroyed, the hatred you held for yourself clear on your face. She sped walk to where Alexia was sitting, making eye contact as the blonde turned towards her on instinct, as if sensing that something wasn't right. Mapi was on her other side, and she'd known something was wrong the second she saw her girlfriend go after you, but she'd been deep in conversation with Irene, and she hadn't wanted to overreact.

Aitana leaned down, speaking quietly in Alexia's ear. "Come with me, it's y/n."

Alexia nodded once, her expression firm as she stood. As if they were 2 ducklings following their mother, Mapi and Irene rose too, following their captain and Aitana out into the hall. They stopped just outside the doors looking expectantly at the younger player.

Aitana worried her lip in between her teeth, looking intensely at Alexia. She didn't want to say what was going on, not in front of the other girls. Ingrid had told her to get Alexia, and to be discreet. You didn't need a crowd of people.

"What happened?" Alexia asked after a minute, her voice anxious.

"I... Ingrid told me to get you, and to be discreet." Aitana's gaze flickered to the other girls, and the blonde captain caught her meaning.

"Mapi, Irene, go back inside, I'll take care of it."

They both began to protest, but Alexia remained resolute, shaking her head at them. "No, Ingrid said just me. Whatever is going on we don't need to overwhelm her." The other girls turned, sighing dramatically, walking back into the cafeteria.

Alexia fixed her gaze back on Aitana, wordlessly asking for more information.

"Ingrid and I followed her to the bathroom, and we heard her getting sick. Ingrid opened the door, it wasn't locked, and she was... she was making herself..." Aitana trailed off uncomfortably.

The pieces started to fall together for Alexia, and she didn't need the younger woman to say anything else.

"Okay. Okay. Thank you, Tana. I'll make sure she's okay."

Aitana nodded nervously, watching after her captain as the blonde made her way down the hall and towards the bathroom that the brunette had indicated.

-----

To your surprise, Ingrid didn't try to make you talk. Her and Aitana had watched you leave the room, and worried that you were ill or something, with the look on your face. They'd followed you, hovering outside the bathroom door, before trying the handle. Ingrid hadn't expected what she found, and she wasn't exactly sure what to do. All she knew was that you needed help.

She shut the door behind her, locking it this time, before grabbing a paper towel. She got it wet with warm water, before carefully approaching you. Ingrid flushed the toilet, before lifting your chin to face her. You shut your eyes, unable to really look at her. You couldn't see how disgusted with you she was; that would be it. That would shatter you beyond repair.

Ingrid carefully wiped your mouth off, before taking your hand in hers, and wiping your fingers off too. The action made you inhale sharply. She knew, she'd seen. You knew she had, but the silent acknowledgement made you sick to your stomach all over again.

The Norwegian disposed of the paper towel, turning towards the door when a quiet knock sounded. You clenched your jaw, clenched your fists, dreading the conversation you knew your captain was about to force you to have.

You didn't want a lecture. You knew what you were doing wasn't okay, wasn't healthy. You knew, and you did it anyway. Because, despite what you told yourself, it wasn't about being healthy. It was about looking the way you thought you should.

Alexia entered, taking in Ingrid's troubled expression, before her eyes fell to you. You looked hopeless, completely embarrassed, and Alexia wanted to fix it. Make you understand that you didn't have to be embarrassed, not with her. She wanted to promise that everything would be okay, that she'd make sure that you were okay. She wanted you to let her in, finally, admit that you were hurting.

None of these things were conversations to be had in the bathroom, though. Alexia walked forward, holding out a hand down to you. Slowly, you raised your head to look at her. There wasn't any revulsion evident on her face, and even though you wanted to run, hide, pretend that this wasn't happening, you knew you couldn't do that.

You took Alexia's hand, allowing her to pull you to your feet. She was steady where you were shaky, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and leading you out of the bathroom. She stopped briefly, looking down at you.

"Do you want Ingrid to come, or would you rather talk just the two of us?" She asked softly.

Your eyes flickered to Ingrid, not wanting to hurt her feelings when she'd been so kind, but also thinking that you couldn't handle talking to more than one person about what was going on. It was horribly overwhelming enough as it was.

Ingrid caught your hesitance, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "It's alright, elskling. You talk with Ale, okay? And maybe later you can come over and have a movie night with me and María?"

You half smiled at her, as it was all you could manage, a smile she returned, before she headed the opposite way down the hall.

Alexia tightened her grip around you, like she was a little afraid you were going to run. To be fair, you'd considered it, but the tight hold your captain had on you had shut that option down. She led you through the maze of hallways, eventually finding a room that seemed to meet her requirements. It was a little relaxation lounge, one no one ever used as it wasn't very big, and the team kind of stuck together.

Alexia sat down next to you on one of the sofa's, and you appreciated that she didn't sit in the chair across the room; that would have felt terrifying like a therapy session, and you definitely weren't there yet.

"How long has this been going on?" Alexia asked. Her question startled you, having been sure she was going to try to make you talk first. She liked to do that, feeling like important discussions with her teammates were more successful when they steered the conversation. However, Alexia knew you wouldn't steer it anywhere helpful.

"How long has what been going on?" You replied, instantly regretting the words. Why had you said that? Alexia was aware that you knew what she was asking about, and she wouldn't let you get away with playing dumb.

Shaking her head, she spoke firmly. "No, we are not going to do that. Aitana and Ingrid saw, pequeña. We have to talk about this."

"I don't want to." You murmured, resting your head in your hands. You didn't. You would have done practically anything to avoid it.

"I know." Alexia told you sympathetically, rubbing her hand up and down your back. "We have to, though. I care about you way too much to not do anything about this." Ale paused. "When did it start?"

"It was bad when I was younger, a teenager. And I went to therapy, and I was doing well for a while. I'm not really sure what happened, why it started again."

Alexia didn't miss that you didn't answer her question. "When did it start?" She asked again.

You sighed, head still hidden away in your hands. "A few weeks ago. It wasn't that bad at first, I didn't notice. And then it was, and it was too late, I couldn't fix it."

"Why?" Alexia asked next.

You shook your head, even as the words threatened to spill out; the words that harassed you, that tainted every meal.

"Come on, pequeña. I am not going to judge you, just tell me."

Often, Alexia was seen as this intimidating, hardcore player. She'd do anything for her teammates, though, and she was capable of extreme kindness. If you were lucky enough to know Ale, to really know her, you knew how good she was. Maybe it was this, one of the best people you knew begging you to talk to her, that made you relent.

"I... I hate the way that I look. I hate it." Your words were dripping with self loathing. Alexia understood the unspoken words; you hated yourself.

There were a lot of things Alexia wanted to tell you, but didn't, not yet. She'd need them in the future, when the urge returned, and you fought against it. She'd need the reminders then.

Instead, she coaxed your face away from your hands, looking intently at you as she spoke.

"You cannot keep doing this. You know that. As your captain, and as your friend, cariño, you need help. We need to get you help."

Your eyes began to well with tears. Alexia took a shaky breath.

"And I know you do not want it, but you deserve it. Can you let me get you help, pequeña? Please?"

You considered for a couple moments. "What if I can't get better? What if... what if I can't?"

Above all, that was your biggest fear. Not being strong enough to beat it. It was why you resisted help; you didn't want to let everyone down if you failed. You wanted to be strong enough, you just weren't convinced you were. You were weak enough to start this, to fall into the horrible loop, to begin with.

"You will, cariño. You know how I know?"

You looked at her, eyes wide and watery. "How?" Your voice cracked, and Alexia took one of your hands in hers.

"Because you do not give up. You are one of the strongest people I know." You looked doubtful, still. "And I don't give up. I will not give up on you. We will get you better, together. You will not have to do any of it alone."

"Do you promise?" You asked, a few tears sliding down your cheeks as you blinked at the blonde.

Alexia didn't say anything, she just held out her pinky towards you. You linked your pinkie with hers, and knew, somewhere deep within you, that this wasn't a promise she was going to break.

-----

Alexia did end up telling you all of the things she'd thought of, eventually. She wrote them down in a little note on her phone, not wanting to forget what to say, not when you needed her. Your teammates, the ones who knew, who you trusted enough to let know, used them too.

-----

That it didn't matter what you looked like, being so unkind to your body was never acceptable.

Alexia told you this one evening she spent at your house, after you'd had a long therapy session. You'd arrived home, dissolving into tears, and somehow, she had known you'd needed her.

She showed up on your doorstep like some kind of magical being that could sense when her friends were sad, letting you cry into her for at least an hour.

She'd whispered the words into your hair, when you asked her if she thought getting better was worth it, if it was so painful.

You believed her, that day. Just a little.

-----

She loved you, and there was nothing to be embarrassed about, or ashamed of.

She told you this a week later when you slipped up, and you'd called her from your bathroom floor, words unintelligible through your sobs. Alexia dropped everything to come over, and spent a while promising you that relapsing didn't make you a bad person. That you were doing your best, and that was all you could expect from yourself. That relapses were a part of recovering, as much as it sucked.

When she said the words, you believed her, a bit more this time. She'd been at your apartment before you could really even get any words out. She wouldn't have done that if she didn't care, if she was disgusted with you. If she didn't love you like she said she did.

-----

Being healthy, above all else, was what mattered, and what you'd been doing wasn't.

This was Ingrid and Mapi. You'd gone over to their house for dinner, which proved to be challenging. You confessed how guilty you felt for eating enough, and how guilty you felt for not eating enough. It was hard to figure out what the right thing was, when everything felt like the wrong decision.

Mapi spoke these words to you, sounding wiser and more sure than you'd ever heard her. You trusted Mapi, you trusted Ingrid. If they said that what you were doing wasn't healthy, they weren't lying. Another piece of you got better that day, even as it was one of the hardest you faced.

-----

You were beautiful, and strong, and your body allowed you to play the sport you loved.

You lost count of who told you this one. Irene, Lucy, Alexia, Ingrid, Mapi, Pina. It became something of a mantra, something they'd make you repeat when they saw you having a bad day.

Because, above all, you loved football.

You learned to love your body for allowing you to play football.

You learned to love your body just for being itself, regardless of what it looked like.

You learned to love yourself, to not put so much pressure on everything you did.

You healed, slowly. You knew, without a doubt, that you couldn't have done it without the team. You didn't want to conceive of a world where you would have to struggle alone, because you weren't. As long as they were around, you never would be.

-----

it's a good thing i have therapy tomorrow!

i joke, although i do have therapy tomorrow.

getting better is so worth it. i promise.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader

524 notes · View notes

too-deviant · 6 months

Text

jackie and wilson.

previous | next masterlist.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile

word count: 6.2k

content: very juicy chapter. is all im gonnna say.

notes: i cant stay mad at my otps i fear

PART IV — better yet, she wouldn’t care

“If I have to hear one more handjob joke, I’m gonna lose it. So please tell me you have good news.”

Lee Fletcher’s dark blue eyes flitted up to yours, his lashes tickling just under his eyebrow when he did. His hands were fiddling with the bandage that wrapped around your hand, but they slowed when you spoke, “Bare with me, newbie.”

You sighed deeply, fighting the urge to fall back onto the cot that you were sitting on — you’d had the stupid bandage wrapped around your hand and wrist for what felt like eternity, but was really only five days. You should be thankful, really, since the last time you’d broken your wrist you’d been walking around with a thick blue cast on for a month, but you couldn’t help but be a little peeved. Capture the flag was today, and you hadn’t trained nearly as much as the others had due to your injury — when you probably should’ve been training twice as much, only because you were new and unfamiliar with the game.

It was their fault for hyping it up; if they had just shut up about it, you wouldn’t have been as excited about taking part, broken wrist or not. But alas, demigods were barbarians — barbarians who thirsted to beat each other up in a controlled battle. Barbarians who didn’t have any regard for the new camper when they were climbing all over each other to see the freshly posted team setup, and trampled all over their perfectly good wrist.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been standing right in front of the notice board.” Luke had been saying all week.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have asked me to accompany you there, then.” You replied every time.

Lee narrowed his gaze, flipping your hand around carefully in his, kneading at curtain parts of your skin while checking you for reactions. When you showcased nothing but annoyance at your own shit luck, he leaned back with a cheeky smile, “Well, it’s looking good. I don’t think you need this anymore.”

He lifted up the knot of bandage he’d removed from your hand and threw it with perfect precision into the trash can on the other side of the room, before turning and grinning at you. You couldn’t help but grin back, “You’re the best.”

“I’m told.” He shrugged, feigning a humble demeanour. You stood, and he did so with you, looking at you pointedly, “But you should still take it easy today. It’s your first game, and you’ve been here for a week. Nobody is gonna judge you for stepping back today.”

You scoffed, rolling your newly healed wrist around with a small smile, “I’m not stepping back for shit, Fletcher. I’m beating the hell out of Chris Rodriguez.”

“He’s on your team.”

“I don’t care.” You rebutted. Lee rolled his eyes, but ultimately let you off with a wave. “See you later!”

The past five days had been fairly tame. When the team setup was posted on Sunday afternoon, everyone went immediately into prep mode for the game. You knew they took it seriously, but you didn’t realise how seriously they did until you found yourself being pulled out of your sleeping bag at five in the morning so you could get a headstart on training with Luke. Although you didn’t see the relevance — after you’d broken your wrist, the boy hadn’t even let you look at a spear, so you woke up at the asscrack of dawn to…sit around and watch him train.

Thankfully, Hermes had paired up with Ares for once, and Clarisse wasn’t letting you off easily. Whenever she could, she was dragging you to the arena and teaching you how to fight one-handed. So you were more than ready, skipping down the infirmary steps with an easy smile.

“I think I see you here more than I see you anywhere else.”

You paused, looking up and spotting Evan, leaning gently on the porch railing. You rounded the steps and stopped in front of him, “Hey. I’ve only been here twice.”

“In…” He checked his imaginary watch, “One week. That’s gotta be a record.”

You narrowed your eyes jokingly, “Okay. I’m still learning, leave me alone.”

“We’ll see how much you’ve learnt later today.” He quipped, running a hand through his hair. He smirked at you, “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” You slid out, sarcasm evident in your tone. He laughed, and you smiled, rolling your eyes.

“Come on, clumsy. Let’s get to training.” He began to walk off, and you followed, presumably to where the Hermes team were gathering for last minute preparations.

For this game, they’d paired up with Ares and Athena, Apollo taking lead for the blue team with Hephaestus and Aphrodite. Red team also had Demeter, and the boys of cabin twelve were on the blue team. It seemed like a pretty good split; or at least you thought it was, judging by the reactions of everyone when they read the pamphlet. You might have been reading it wrong, though. After all, you were crying out in pain and cradling a shattered wrist when it happened.

Athena was always a good cabin to pair up with, was what Evie had told you when she was taking your measurements for armour. You presumed so, goddess of war and all. But you were a little wary about the Cabin Ten girls — Aphrodite was also a warrior goddess, after all.

Evan led you around the back of the pegasi stables and through a mudded path. The only reason you hadn’t taken off running in fear that he was leading you to your imminent death was because the wood nymphs were out and about, milling around like bodyguards. They eyed you up at first, but a few of them recognised you from your impromptu baseball session with Luke last week and told them to back off.

“Here she is, the woman of the hour!” Clarisse exclaimed when she saw you break through the trees. A few people glanced back and smiled at you politely, a sentiment you returned as Evan led you to the front of the crowd where she stood.

Luke was beside her, and only nodded at you. You nodded back, a glimmer in your eyes that made his hands twitch.

“Okay, now that our whole team is in attendance, we can begin.” The Ares girl said, conviction prominent in her voice. She was made to lead, that much was obvious. “You all know the deal. I won’t repeat it, not with the blue team so close by, but…” She sent a meaningful look around the whole crew, “You know where to go. We’ve been practising this, and in a couple of hours it’ll be time to bring home yet another win.”

“It’s pretty much all in the cards for us.” Luke cropped himself into the speech, “Cabin Nine have their special machinery but we’ve got wit, power and numbers. We’ll be fine.”

“Speaking of cabin nine.” Clarisse hopped down from the wooden crate she was standing on, “I grabbed this from them just before the teams went up. Had to make sure they didn’t sabotage it.”

She pulled a long spear out from behind some other boxes, and let it shimmer in the light. It was beautiful, and you couldn’t keep your eyes away from it. Despite it being made from celestial bronze, the forger had clearly done something to make it shine a mesmerising silver. You could see your reflection in it as it glistened under the sun. It was double ended and if you squinted, you could see tiny spikes coiling around the first ten or so inches of each end. The shaft was smooth and engraved with something you could only make out when she walked over and handed it to you.

“Wait.” You took it out of instinct, weighing it in both hands but giving a shocked look to Clarisse, “This is mine?”

“You’re damn right.” She smirked, “Jake was having a field day making that thing, couldn’t stop talking about it. Especially when he added these,” She poked one of the spikes that coiled around the shaft and rubbed the tips of her fingers together with a wince, “They’re lethal. You’ll be unbeatable out there with this thing.”

“Cool.” You gave it an experimental swing, and everyone in your vicinity took a long step back. You shrugged, smiling anyway, “Whoops.”

You felt very powerful with your new weapon, and now that you had it in your hands, you could marvel at the engravings. They were images, battles fought — a lot of them recognisable. There was Perseus killing Phineus and Polydectes with Medusa’s head, Heracles and the Nemean Lion. There was even an engraving of Tantalus stealing the ambrosia and nectar from Olympus, for some reason. You’d have to ask Jake about that later.

“We have two hours until we need to gather at the pavilion, so we won’t bore you with details.” A young girl who you’d seen around camp before stood up and addressed the crowd. She was very little, but she exuded authority even at her young age. “But if I see you lazing around, I’ll put my dagger through your foot.”

There was a chorus of nods and murmured agreement, so the little girl stepped back and nodded at Luke, who told them all to go get ready. The crowd dispersed, but you stayed firmly put as the boy made his way over to you, the little girl following behind him.

“Sunny.” He tried not to smile, but you saw his lips twitch. He gestured to the girl beside him, “This is my little sister Annabeth. Newly appointed Counselor of Athena.”

You raised a brow, impressed, before looking down at the girl with a smile, “Hey, Annabeth.” You introduced yourself, trying not to show her how kind of scared you were for her to not like you.

Luckily she nodded, “Hi. You better be good with that spear.”

“I’d like to think I am.” You joked. She didn’t laugh, simply telling Luke she was going to brainstorm and left you both alone in the clearing you’d been gathered in. You raised your brows at him, “I think she gets her stoic indifference from you.”

He cracked a smile then, grabbing your spear from you and weighing it in his own hands, “Yeah. She’s a firecracker.” He looked at you firmly, “Think you’ll be good for this game? It’s not too late to back out.”

You snatched the weapon right back from him, rubbing his finger prints from the shaft with your sleeve and sending him a half-glare, “You just want an excuse to use this instead of me. I’m fine, JoJo.”

He raised a single brow, “Fine. But if you end up back in the infirmary, I’m not gonna kiss your wounds better.”

You smirked, backing away and pointing your free finger at him daringly, “You wouldn’t be able to hold back.”

He laughed, hand on heart, “Right.”

You were quick to retreat to the Arena where you knew Clarisse was waiting for you. A good chance to break in the new armoury and swing a spear around that wasn’t made of styrofoam or rotten wood. You caught yourself a good sweat in an hour and a half, and Clarisse was covered in bloody dots from those spikes. Even if you were injured, they still didn’t stand a chance against those. It was a comforting thought.

You would’ve practised the whole time had it not started raining — something that confused you greatly since the camp had a controlled climate. Clarisse just rolled her eyes, though, claiming that Chiron was upping the dramatics for the game. You were unsure that the centaur could just…make it rain, but you went along with it. You’d only been a demigod for a week after all.

Not wanting to be completely soaked by the time the game started, you retreated back to the Hermes cabin, shortening your spear down with a click and tucking it into your belt loop before you sat down. You were still on the floor, still next to the six year-old who almost always rolled on top of you in the night — you had now perfected your rollover technique to get him off you without waking him up.

You were re-lacing your combat boots when two shadows loomed over either side of you. Without so much as a glance away from your foot, you said plainly, “Stolls. What do you want?”

A twin pair of scoffs sounded and you just rolled your eyes. The one on the left spoke first, and you thought it might have been Travis, “Bold to assume we want anything.”

“I mean, we do.” Connor added from your right, and the indisputable sound of a hard slap came right after. “Ow! Asshole.”

“Cut to it.” You moved onto your other shoe now that the left one was wound tight. You were always pretty speedy at tying laces, a fairly random skill but a skill nonetheless.

“Well…” Connor started.

“Luke put us on second offence.” Travis continued.

“But we sorta hate doing second offence.”

“Yeah, it’s way too much work.”

Connor leaned over your shoulder so his stupid grin was visible in your peripheral vision, “And we heard that you are on side offence. Which has a much lower maiming risk.”

“So you wanna swap spots?” You deducted, looking up from your feet and giving them a blank glance. They nodded, and you sighed, “Ok, first of all, there’s two of you and one of me. You’ll have to find someone else to swap with too.”

“Already done.” Travis nodded, “Sabine loves second offence.”

“Second of all,” You sent them firm looks, “Luke isn’t going to let you change the layout right before the game. Neither is Clarisse and neither is Annabeth.”

“Which is why we aren’t telling them.” Connor said like it was obvious, holding out his hands like he’d presented you with the best idea ever conjured, “Luke and Clarisse are on first offence and Annabeth is on last defence, right by the flag. No one will know.”

“Plus,” Travis sang, wiggling his eyebrows, “This is a perfect opportunity to prove to everyone how badass you are.”

“Yeah, Luke’s had you on a leash since you hurt your wrist.” Connor raised a teasing brow, “Why not show him what you’re made of?”

You looked between them, and the silence that stretched seemed to serve as an answer because they were smirking at you and pushing themselves up and out of the door before you could utter a word.

The rain hadn’t settled — Chiron and his dramatics, although it appeared Mr D wasn’t too much of a fan. God or not, he still got wet with the rest of them. You stood between Luke and Clarisse, the former shielding both your heads with his black jacket — Annabeth ended up squeezing between the two of you when she couldn’t keep up with her I’m too good to hide from the rain facade. You took it as a win, she was warming up to you!

“Welcome to our first capture the flag of the summer!” Chiron bellowed, pausing for the cheers that resounded. “The usual rules are enforced. Magic weapons are permitted, the flag must be prominently presented with no more than two guards no less than ten yards from the flag! No killing or maiming, and no gagging or bounding of prisoners. Let the games begin!”

There was a loud echo of cheers and battle cries as the first conch sounded — they only had twenty minutes to get into position and then they would be permitted to cross the creek into enemy territory. Annabeth was quick to gather up the flag guards and send them off to their agreed location with nothing but a sharp eye before she was pulling together the defensive lines and sending them off too.

“Hey.” Just before you could walk off, Luke grabbed your attention, levelling his eyes with yours as best as he could from under his helmet. He adjusted yours and patted your shoulders, “You got this, Sunny.”

You nodded, “Damn right I do.”

It was hard to navigate the woods in the rain, which was still pouring almost torrentially over them. The forest floor had grown slippery and wet with the new downpour, but the campers traipsed through it roughly, boots squelching as they moved. You followed the side defence through mud and grass, dodging branches and puddles until you couldn’t hear the chatter of Luke and Clarisse from behind you. Then you stopped, and just ahead of you, Sabine did the same.

It wasn’t long before Connor and Travis were pushing through the trees and greeting the pair of you with wide grins. Sabine rolled her eyes, “Shove off, punks.”

Then she was storming in the direction they came from, and you had no choice but to follow. It was hard to keep up with her long strides, but whenever you lost her in the fog you just followed the sound of her annoyed mutters.

“Stupid kids. Can’t be trusted on last offence let alone second. It’s not fair. I punch one kid for cheating and Luke sends me to side defence. Side! Stupid punk has been out of it for too long, needs a reality check.”

You didn’t bother responding — whether you were going to agree or come to Luke’s defence, you had no idea. You just followed her to the edge where the second offence was lined up just past the edge of the shore. Evie and Evan gave you the same confused look.

“Those Stoll fuckers wanted an easy out.” Sabine spat, pushing a stray curl back under her helmet and heaving her giant club over her shoulder.

The twins didn’t question or fight the decision, simply shrugging and going back to where they were tracing their own tic tac toe game into the wet sand. You stood idly, hands fiddling with your belt buckle before the second conch sounded. Almost immediately did the first and side offences cross the creek and disappear into the woods, while you pulled your spear from the ground and followed the twins and Sabine across the water moments after they were gone.

Then it was a waiting game.

“Fuck Apollo, Marry Athena and Kill Hermes.”

Evie scoffed, shaking her head, “No. No way. Athena would be way controlling as a wife, you gotta bag Apollo.”

Sabine hummed, “No. I think Athena and I would be unstoppable together.”

You looked up from your shoes and between the three that stood before you. It had been two hours and the most action you had was seeing one of your own teammates get flung right back over the creek by some cabin nine contraption that you were not too keen on meeting. Your spear rested across the back of your shoulders, your arms swung around the shaft at either side as you contemplated your own answer.

“No, see —“ You huffed, “I couldn’t marry Athena, but only because she conjures babies with her brain. I could never win an argument, I know that for sure.”

“But we all agree on killing Hermes, right?” Evan butted in with a laugh that was immediately shared by the rest of them. He settled down and squinted for a moment, “Ok. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Iris, Nemesis and…Hypnos.”

There was immediate discourse, everyone speaking up at once with their own opinions. Sabine thought Hypnos would be a terrible lay — He’d fall asleep halfway through! — but Iris would be overbearing as a wife. Evie said Nemesis would be the best wife, she’d never let anyone hurt you, and you were just about to add on that Iris could let you eavesdrop on other people’s conversations whenever you were bored when a loud crack echoed through the trees.

Then it was quiet. You all shared silent looks, baring your weapons and facing the enemy side.

Another crack, a snap of a twig. Then a crash, like something being dropped onto a pile of leaves.

A scream, and a manic son of Aphrodite breaking through the trees and aiming a large Kopis at Evan, who was quick to defend with his dual wielding swords. His teammates followed, and the rest of you jumped into action — you were only slightly panicked when you realised your opponent was a Hephaestus kid who was nearly double your height.

You’d seen him around sometimes, he was only a year or so younger than you. Same age as Clarisse, and definitely the same level of skill in battle. What made him even scarier was that he fought with nunchucks…fucking nunchucks! And he was good with them, too.

But you had been taught well. You were quick to defend your body and use both ends of your spear to deflect each nunchuck from making contact. At one point, he clipped your arm pretty hard, and that was when you realised they were ribbed along the edges making for a harder hit. You bounced back though, swinging every which way and not letting him touch you again.

Briefly, you could hear your peers’ own battles. There weren’t any shouts of pain, or cries for help, so you put all your focus on the boy before you. He had a height advantage, and swung his weapon down on you fairly often, which left your torso open when you held your spear over your head. But your reflexes were like lightning, and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t land that second hit.

Fuelled by his own frustration, he lunged forward and tried to wrap the chain of his chucks around the shaft of your spear. He attempted to no avail a couple of times, but then he clicked a button on one of the shafts and released a crackle of energy along it. You were shocked momentarily by the reveal of his electric nunchucks that you faltered in your defence and he managed to wrangle your weapon in his own on the third try. You pulled back hard, trying to regain control and prevent his disarm, but he just pressed that damn button again and this time the volts ran through his chain and up the entire length of your spear.

The crack that resounded was huge. Too huge to have come from those tiny nunchucks.

Where you were expecting a sudden and painful shock through your hand and arms you instead felt a massive give. You stumbled back, shocked, but regained your footing before you could fall onto the wet ground. Your spear was in your hands, and the nunchucks were still wrapped tightly around the middle. You looked up from them to see their owner crumbled in a heap on the ground, nursing his painfully red hands while the rainfall soaked his clothes even more.

You’d completely forgotten you weren’t alone until one of his teammates dropped their shield and ran to his aid. You looked up, expecting to meet the dumbstruck eyes of Evie and Evan, only to see their gazes fixed elsewhere. You turned your head.

There in the grass was a giant streak of black, stretching along the shore for nearly five metres. It took a second for you to realise that it was embers — the ground had been burnt completely from where you stood to where it ended. And standing just before it was Luke and Clarisse — the blue team's flag in hand. They weren’t moving, they were staring at the burn in the floor, at you.

Your chin wobbled a little until the echo of the other team reached your ears. You looked at the pair urgently, “Move!”

And they did. Even when the blue team kids you’d been fighting before tried to stop them, they were held back and Luke and Clarisse led your team to an easy victory.

They cheered, and the conch sounded. Chiron emerged through the wood and smiled at them in congratulations — the whole spark debacle was nearly forgotten, campers too busy either cheering or groaning to notice the burn streak on the floor. Chiron did, though, and soon though the short lived celebration quieted down as he asked about it.

Eyes turned to you. You shrugged, “I don’t…I don’t know what happened, it just —“

But then there were gasps. All around you. And suddenly Chiron wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the space above your head. And then so was everyone else.

When you looked up, squinting past the rain, and your eyes fixated on that glowing lighting bolt that floated above your head, the world went quiet. A week of hearing everything about the glory of being claimed — how at ease you would be, how reassured you would end up. None of it was true. Because for some reason, the symbol that hung above your head sent nothing but trepidation running through you.

You almost missed Chiron's next words,

“Zeus. Law Maker. Striker of Lightning. King of Olympus. All hail.” He shouted your name, but it didn’t feel right in your ears, “Daughter of the Sky God.”

When you couldn’t stand the sight of it — when it started to make you feel sick, when the picturesque summer camp you were finally finding yourself in started to feel tight and uncomfortable, you looked down. Everyone was kneeling, eyes on the ground. It was comforting that they weren’t staring at you anymore, but when you searched the crowd for those baby brows that held you down, they were fixated firmly on the mud.

After your claiming, Chiron dismissed everyone sharply. They left, all talk about the capture the flag win long left behind and replaced by canards about you and your family. Your lineage. You were very prepared to stand frozen on the other side of the creek for the rest of the day but the centaur ushered you into his office in the big house just as the rain stopped.

The next hour was a muffled blur. You felt as if you had just been plunged underwater and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears — you vaguely registered Chiron and Mr. D asking you a load of questions about your childhood and whether there were any signs of your parentage along the way. You couldn’t answer that.

They Iris-Messaged your mother — who was in her office and jumped up startled when the call came through. You might have been in a hazy funk, but you could tell the surprise on her face when Chiron informed her of your claiming was genuine. She’d had no idea. That, out of all things, angered you the most.

“This new information will have caused quite a stir in Olympus.” Was one of the last things he said, “But you should be fine, since you’re seventeen.”

“Why does me being seventeen mean anything?”

Zeus’ Cabin was subpar to say the least. Alright if you’re only going in there to worship the guy, not so alright if you’re planning on living there. There weren’t any beds, but there were alcoves lining the walls that you tucked your sleeping bag into so you didn’t have to look at the giant statue of Zeus that stood at the end of the room. For good measure, you chucked a spare blanket over its head — he could smite you for it, you didn’t really care anymore.

You zoned back into reality when a knock sounded on your door, and you realised it was nightfall. Dinner time. You stood from your perch on one of the many benches that sat in the room — you thought they’d have better use in the pavilion, where Hermes kids were practically falling off the benches there were so little of them — and headed over to the huge double doors, heaving one open and breathing deep at the workout it took just to see who was at the door.

It was Evie, and for some reason that made a pit of disappointment form in your gut. You sent her a weak smile nonetheless, “Hi.”

She smiled back, full of pity, “Hey. Just thought I’d come check on you, we haven’t seen you in hours.”

“I didn’t like them staring at me.” You said plainly, stepping out into the open air. The rain had stopped now, the sky clear, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I get that.” Was her heartfelt reply. You felt bad for being so plain with her, but there was really only one person you wanted to see, “But, um, it’s dinner right about now. Wanna…come with?”

You didn’t really wanna, but you were starving and almost certain that nobody would be bringing you any food, so you shrugged, “Sure.”

The large door shut on its own when you stepped away from it, and Evie jumped at the sound. You folded your arms and walked alongside her in silence until you were forced to part at the pavilion. She tried to say something — maybe a goodbye, a good luck. Maybe a we can’t be friends anymore because you’re forbidden. You didn’t stick around to check, walking over to the empty Zeus table where you unfortunately belonged.

You filled your plate, hungry from the workout of capture the flag and exhaustion from the day, but your appetite was ruined when you saw Luke walk in and avoid your eyes completely in favour of sitting at his usual spot at the Hermes table. You hadn’t seen him all day, he hadn’t seen you, and yet here he was; ignoring your existence like he used to. It sort of hurt.

So you dropped your fork, leaned your elbows on the untouched wood and stared at nothing. Only hours earlier were you at the top of your game, happy and ready to use your skills in capture the flag, show your friends what you could do. Now? You were completely alone, completely miserable, and completely ready to go back to Vermont.

You wanted nothing more than to climb into your bed and cry.

People started to stand. Heading in the direction of the campfire that you were definitely going to skip. Some Hermes kids stood, Luke included, and started a slow stroll down there too, past your table and down the hill. Chris was talking animatedly to his friends on either side of him, but Luke didn’t look very happy with whatever it was he was saying. Before you could build up the courage to call out for him, beg him to look you in the eyes and still stay your friend, he was shoving Chris roughly, the boy falling into your table with a grunt.

“What the hell, man?” He sneered, brushing himself off. Luke just glared. He scoffed, “You’ve changed, bro. And not for the better.”

Then he was walking off in a huff, and his friends were following him. Luke met your eyes for half a second before storming off in the opposite direction — and with the influence of the tug on your heart, you followed.

He was halfway to the Hermes cabin when you caught him, and you were thrown back to the time he got into that…thing with Dean from Ares and you chased him all the way up the hill. This time, it was down, and you were a lot less out of breath when you reached out and tugged on his elbow.

He turned to you, “What?”

You paused, hand falling to your side. You swallowed, shrugged, “I…uh…”

Luke tightened his jaw, eyes flicking above your head like if he looked at you any longer his facade would break. He took in a deep breath and met your gaze once more, “Go to the campfire.”

“What —?”

“Go to the campfire.” He was backing away, “Entertain your fans, give out autographs. Conjure some more lighting. I don’t know. Do something, but don’t do it here.”

You weren’t having that. Your gaze hardened, “Hey. You’re not allowed to say that to me after you ignored me all day.”

“I —“ He went for a rebuttal, but came up short, licking his lips in frustration. “You disappeared.”

“I was in the Big House, being interrogated.” You explained, annoyance clear in your tone, “I would’ve liked it if my best friend was waiting for me when I got out but unfortunately he decided he hated me like everyone else and I had to cry alone in my cabin.”

He paused then, taking slow steps back towards you and meeting your saddened gaze. His brows furrowed, “I’m your best friend?”

You cracked a tiny smile, “Of course you are, idiot.”

His nod was barely there, but you saw it. You also saw his smile, small like yours and gone in a flash. “I don’t hate you.” He said, “I don’t care that Zeus is your dad. It’s just…”

“He forgot about me.”

“What?”

You shrugged, folding your arms. There, standing in the middle of the cabins and staring at Luke Castellan, you admitted out loud what you’d been avoiding since you left the Big House, “Zeus. He forgot about me. That's why I never got attacked by monsters, because my deadbeat father was so busy turning his kid into a tree that he forgot he had another one.”

Even under the tears brimming in your lids and through the lump on your throat, you saw Luke flinch. A minute movement, but you caught it like you caught all of his other details. The freckle on his eyebrow, the scar on his forehead that other people missed because they were too busy staring at his big one. The flinch when you brought up the tree. Thalia Grace, is what Chiron had called her.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you.” He said in a low murmur. “Thalia was a friend of mine and Annabeth’s. Brought back some rough memories.”

“Oh.” You breathed, “Oh, gods. I’m so sorry.”

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his torso before you could think about it. Big bad Luke definitely didn’t like hugs, but there you were; hugging him and staining his camp shirt with your salty tears. You couldn’t help it — you were so full of emotions that a single hug that he hadn't even reciprocated was bringing you to tears.

Then he hugged you back, and you started bawling.

Bawling like a baby into his chest while he stood there and held you. Crying about your dad who forgot about you, your sister who died while you lived a happy life, your nonexistent purpose in life because you were over sixteen now and there was nothing for you. Maybe being a forbidden kid was enough, but not really. You weren’t forbidden enough for them, apparently.

“Sorry for shoving Chris.” He spoke into your hair. You pulled your head back enough to meet his eyes, “He was saying shit about you and Thalia and it pissed me off. I know that you want me to be better, happier or whatever, and I am trying but…”

“I don’t care.”

His lips shut with a smack, “What?”

You let out a sad chuckle, “Be miserable. I don’t care, I like you for who you are. Plus, I get it. Y’know? This isn’t the happiest life.”

Luke looked at you with an expression so genuine and heavy that it sort of scared you, but you let it burn you. You’d let him burn you forever more. Then he let out a breath, tinged with relief, and relaxed his forehead onto your own. You stayed like that, heads pressed together and arms wrapped around one another, until footsteps bled into your ears.

You pulled away from each other and spotted Annabeth, who was making her way over very quickly, trudging through the grass that was still wet from earlier.

“Anna Banana.” Luke squinted, his new way of smiling, “What are ya’ doing over here?”

The girl stopped between the two of you and ignored her brother in favour of looking at you, “So, you’re Zeus’ kid.”

“Yup.”

“I knew your sister. She was my sister, too, for a bit.” She said, and you thought it sounded sad, but the girl hid her emotions well. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You shrugged — it wasn’t anyone’s fault but Zeus’. You sent her a kind smile.

She returned it, glancing at Luke then, “Don’t call me that.”

He chucked, patting her on the head and yanking on one of her braids. She huffed and smacked his hand away, but smiled nonetheless. Then she looked back at you, “You were good with that spear today. Maybe Athena could pair up with Zeus for the next game.”

“Maybe they could.” You nodded.

She nodded back, before announcing her departure and heading off. You looked at Luke with a proud grin, “She likes me.”

He smiled fully, amused, “She does.”

“You like me.”

A little sheepish, “I do.”

“So who cares if daddy dearest doesn’t?” You settled on, tilting your head, “We got each other.”

Luke nodded, and you admired the way he looked. He was handsome, that you knew, but he seemed particularly beautiful under the moon, alone with you.

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @ma1dita @woodlandwrites @tsireyasgf @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @evilwrongdoer @blueberryjune @dancing-inasnowglobe @acidaciruela @solshaven @rosieandthethorns @sofiacblair @obxstiles @lukecastellanirl (comment to be removed/added!) (also sorry if some of these didn’t work idk what’s going on)

#sunny!verse #who gasped #guys tell me this is good #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #@lia’s works #luke castellan x you #thanks to the anon who gave me the idea for her godly parent

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