#that you stared into the abyss and smiled. reached out your hand with such utmost kindness and said would you like to be friends ?

[lanternlightss]

today i have thought sm about my beloved oc’s mel and cerelia and i am feeling so completely normal about them (this is a lie i am so unwell)

[lephamquynhnhu]

Millennial Aegis

Chapter 6 (End)

Jing Yuan x Fem! reader

WARNINGS/ TAGS: Arranged marriage, the reader has a default name, OOC, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. (This is a work of fanfiction, events are not aligned or relevant to the original work)

Word count: ~3000

Summary: He is so stubborn to give up on you, and you are too hard-headed to reciprocate his affection. When do you both stop torturing each other?

Note: The first line I wish to express my sincere appreciation to Tanpostblog, crazy-ghostwriter, babymarshall, lady-cryptstone, mikakosama, thatanonymouschocolate, xdrin, Jingyuanbeloved, and briacee for your constant support on this series. I planned on finishing it in five chapters, but it was longer than expected.

You were falling into an unlimited spiral abyss and witnessing how the flame phoenix was born. Suddenly, a horrendous scene unfolds in front of your eyes while running restlessly. The desolate landscape with appalling carnage full of heads, limbs, and gnawing bodies sprawling on the ground burdened on a red spider lilies field. You could practically hear their spirits accuse and curse your name for not saving them when the wind carrying a foul smell breezed. Everything was dyed in a dead vermillion hue as the bloodred moon glared upon soil permeated with millions of innocent lives. 

You agonized over long and hard what to do, just fleeting from the dying world. You kept running until you saw the familiar shape on the apex of a hill built by multiple deceased bodies. Your eyes widen when you recognize Jing Yuan hanging on the wooden cross with a tored throat, limbs dissipated, and crows hovering above. Before you could scream out of horrifying, rotten hands rising from the surface grabbed your legs to sink you to hell. The last thing that remained was the cursed moon bleeding its black mud down. 

The dreadful sight dispels as you jolt awake with cold sweat beads on your brows and forget everything about the nightmare as the utmost sore strikethrough your body. Only a little stir is enough to accumulate the aching. However, the coziness of Jing Yuan's embrace soothes your pain, which must be solace for his roughness last night. The sound of you waking up makes him smile slightly as he feels you cuddle against him. His hand reaches over to stroke your hair gently, causing a sense of warmth and comfort. 

"Jing Yuan! What were you last night? A wild beast devoured his spouse alive?" You point your index finger at his nose, scolding him. The amber eyes waver, then alight with mischief when he looks back at you, trying not to laugh and shaking his head. He is unascertained if he wants to answer that question.

"Don't you dare to laugh! Do you have any idea how much it hurts right now?" You intend a feathery tap at his face, but the general quickly stops your wrist before it lands its target. His eyes narrow as he stares down at you, still holding your arm in place as he speaks calmly. 

"I am truly sorry. I went overboard last night, so I beg your pardon, my lady."

He seems apologetic and genuine about what happened last night when Jing Yuan leads your hand to cup his cheek and kisses your palm. The free hand runs over your bruising chest with his hickeys when you caress his cheekbone affectionately and grant him amnesty. Then he leans forward to kiss you, slipping his tongue out and meeting yours whilst fingers lightly running along your neck. As he pulls away, Jing Yuan winks at you slyly.

You both were supposed to have a blissful marriage if the Stellaron Disaster was not downcast. 

Your heart ached when the general returned from battle in an unconscious state again, and you began thinking of his laden responsibility. Being protected and protecting are two separate things asunder. What did it feel like to present as Luofu's General for millennia? Has he ever been tired of being bestowed with unparalleled intellect and peerless swordsmanship? Maybe you have hidden behind his wings and rested for too long. Hence, it was time for your turn to be his guardian, to fulfill your wish under that silver moon.

However, the mission got more challenging since Jing Yuan forbade and blocked your exploiting investigation of the case. A red denial ablaze brightly on the monitor whenever you try to access the information, and even agents of the Cabinet who were well-informed about the Stellaron refused to answer its topic. To obtain sufficient data for analysis, the intel of battling with Lord Phantylia is an invaluable fragment. As a result, the sole method is infiltrating his archive room to duplicate the data. 

Your palms sweated, and Adrenaline coursed through your bloodline rapidly as you heard footsteps resonating closer to the archive's vicinity. Luckily, the replicating progress indicates successful copying before the general entry. Your heart beat loudly at the eardrum when concealing under the trapdoor and overhearing their off-topic chit-chat. A bizarre feeling settled in your ribcage as soon as Lieutenant Yanqing shifted the conservation into Lady Tingyun's affair; Lord Jing Yuan cleverly avoided discussing it and walked out once he found the needed document. 

Your suspicion was soon confirmed at night when he asked you to bring his demanded file from the study room. This Arbitrary-General only needs an excuse to pull you into his lap with arms secured around your waist, preventing you from running off. The papers fall messily on the cold tile floor for all he cares while Jing Yuan settles you steadily on his thigh.

"You sneaked into my archive room today, didn't you?" 

Your blood froze on the spot when hearing the sternness laces in his voice, and you could tell he was mad by the intense stare in those narrowed eyes. You were sure to successfully hack and insert illusion into all the surveillance cameras without leaving a doubtful trace. Nevertheless, the moment you prefer to object, your husband points out the undeniable evidence that keeps your mouth shut because you would never expect every existence in the archive to live for a purpose. His brush pen laid oblique compared to the original place indicated in your presence since only you two shared the accessed authority. Therefore, Jing Yuan takes your silence as an implied answer. 

"A Zhi, please do me a favor just for this time." - He dives head into your sternum, exhaling his favorite scent. - "Whether it is a felony or misdemeanor in Luofu, I will assign it to you as you wish in exchange for retreating from this Stellaron's study." 

The nuance in his beseech expresses its critical level, so your reason to follow the case magnifies significantly. Being consorts for centuries, the general can sense your definitive response before you materialize it vocally. 

"Don't force me to impose on you more restrictions." - His voice mutates as strictly as iron, and the mild amber orbs morph into icebergs. Jing Yuan interprets your stubbornness, so he must not falter because he swore an oath to his name, even your father, to keep you from harm at all cost. Thus, this is not a rash threat. 

After sharing a long stare competition, you attempt to push your luck by tracing fingertips along his hem's collar and start negotiating. Nevertheless, he does not back off, remaining immovable as a stone figure. 

"I had better understand that 'The same trick won't do twice.' more than anyone else as a Strategic advisor." - You chide yourself while pushing your hands up in a surrendering manner and claiming your withdrawal. The general knows it is a lie, yet he wants to believe in your lie. 

However, the cost of defying reduces your chance to zero. You never think he could be this ruthless when it comes to warfare. The first dispute you two have encountered leads to the bitter end when he constrains you as a punishment. Not only do you hand the USB over to him, but Jing Yuan also forfeits your accessed authority to his archive and temporarily discharges your position in the Internal Affairs Bureau. Although the man chooses to put faith in your dishonesty, that does not mean he sits duck and forecasts the second rebellion. 

"The guest room might serve your service." - You press cold lips against his earlobe to fake a kiss, breathe in slowly to suppress the fury that awaits to explode. - "Begone, out of my sight." 

Both of you know that he does not even mind sleeping in the corridor in the condition to get you off Stellaron's case. To you, this argument and those limitations are nothing more than gravel scattering in your path. Conversely, they may be a potential opportunity to exploit. From now onward, it is an underground battle of wits between the Luofu's general and his strategist. Whoever gets the fastest information will win. 

With your interim situation, continuing to collect and analyze the data in the Cabinet is no longer a feasible option. Hence, the Astral crew will be one of your allies now, but you cannot let your guard down to directly connect to them. Every step and each alternative you take will stake your liability if Jing Yuan recognizes the intrigue. Employing spies to mine their information is a sensible way to conceal your hands, and thanks to the brief time interacting with them, you can depict their personalities. March 7th and the Trailblazer are amiable friends who are inclined to share the intel. As for Mister Yang, you should be wary of this man when assigning your subordinates around him. 

In addition to your partners, Blade and Kafka might not escape Luofu yet because their wanted posters cover every alley. And a competitive merchant could acquire benefits if taking advantage of quid pro quo. You deem the Arbitrary General was too tolerant to restrain someone. If he were cruel enough to shut you in a cell, you would not contract with Silver Wolf. With this genius hacker, you can unauthorized access the network of Internal Affairs freely to obtain top-secret information. 

"You will become a political criminal and be accused of national betrayal, Lady Jin." - The angelic voice of the purple-haired woman singsong at your side while making a deal. Her saccharine smile dripping with nullifying nerve poison did not cast a jinx on you. As long as you are eligible to rescue Xianzhou, you do not mind hand-tarnishing and playing the villain's role. 

Furthermore, to prevent your information blockchain from leaking or any accidents, you divide the source into two segments: electronic data and physical version. As for the software, you are confident about Silver Wolf's system, and the spy team will develop a coding system that only you can decipher those materialized documents. 

You are now very close to the truth of Stellaron and the purpose of Tingyun's missing. This battle is not just about wits, but also about psychology because your mentality will break at any time when working under intense pressure, and you are positive that Jing Yuan still keeps a tab on your actions. It seems like walking onto a rope since any stripped steps will lead you to fall into an abyss. You have already gambled everything into this Stellaron case, so trivial mistakes are unacceptable. 

"Xianzhou is in its dead end, huh?" - A hopeless sigh leaves your lips as you drum the Ambrosial Abor's bark on the table. It was once a remnant of Phantylia's physical body and still lingering her power. You ordered a reconnaissance mission for Yu Ye - one of your spies, to scout Scalegorge Waterscape and collect some observations. According to the final analysis, it turns out like you used to suspect. Disciples of the Sanctus Medicus organization have an inextricable link to the path of Destruction, and Danshu is their leader. The bags under your eyes connote white nights of restlessly investigating the case and strategizing an offensive plan. However, the more you try, the more desperate you get because the end of Xianzhou is nigh. 

"General will rampage..." - You pungently laugh while considering the ace to rescue the ship from its wreckage. 

Three days after your finding, Lord Phantylia ambushes with another appearance and boundless potency. She synthesizes with the Ambrosial Abor and devastates all axis avenues to isolate the Divination Commission. The bell of an urgent evacuation was announced deafeningly as the defensive force assembled under the general's order. The Internal Affairs determines this turmoil with the highest rank: The Grand Calamity. Jing Yuan and the Astral Express, including the support of Imbibitor Lunae's incarnation, combat valiantly to repel her attacks, even rip off her earthly body again. But alas, the assault was no more than bait to whittle their stamina. 

The vassals of Destruction are truly twisted creatures because Phantylia used Tingyun as her backup vessel to manifest as a pseudo-embodiment. The circumstance gets dire when Jing Yuan eradicates her presentation. Phantylia's insane laugh echoes across the frontline when she obtains her end, revealing that Stellaron's core gained its humanoid attribute inlaid into the tree, which has grown maturity and is about to blow away Luofu. Everyone roots their feet on the ground, trucking with astonishment when they realize it took Tingyun's features for preference. In the meantime, you have fully prepared and hurriedly advanced to the battlefield. 

"You will die." - said Fu Xuan, who abruptly hinders your way with two Cloud Knight soldiers standing behind. You silently commend her clairvoyance as clutching on the long sleeve. General's order or not, you will not be backward this time and instinctively initiate the combat stance without saying. However, to your surprise, Fu Xuan raises her hand to display a military-style greeting. 

"Farewell, Tactician. We will always remember you." 

The usual stoic face transfers into solemnness, and a faint smile decorates her complexion when you reciprocate her respects. The Apocalypse has befallen Luofu, so either going to the gallows today or tomorrow, your destiny is inevitable. Reversely, Xianzhou will be safe if she lets you go.

"Then, I go first. Goodbye, Master Diviner." 

Little do you know, as soon as your turning heels march forth, tears cascade like small streams on Fu Xuan's features because she knows this is the last conversation. Her hand keeps in place while watching your figure gradually shrink into the bands of light, embarking on the suicide mission.  

Twilight dyes the Cetral Starskiff Haven into a honeyed hue, pouring his shadow long onto the cemented ground. The evening breeze wafts in the scent of mid-summer, causing the scarlet hair tie to dangle slowly while Jing Yuan is grazing the sunset. His mind winds up reminiscing about your record, about that fatal day. 

You confessed all your sins, described detailed tactics of your scheme in a willing video, and pinpointed your study's whereabouts in the first half.

[...Luofu needs you, Lord Jing Yuan. I was always the one who was protected, so this is my turn to protect you as well as the whole of Xianzhou. As a discerning general, I ascertained you know it is impossible to win without casualties and sacrifices more than anyone else. Even though offering up my life cannot redeem my crime, I still hope you will forgive me.]

Your arrival at the frontline was most opportune when everyone was on their knees. Jing Yuan's pupils squeezed at the scene of you proceeding forward with a peary shaman uniform. As you acknowledged your presence, a sudden sensation of a familiar and alien mixture boiled up his blood like a deja vu phenomenon. He foresaw a vicious omen when the milieu gradually shifted into a foreign landscape according to your spells. Precisely, the one with a flowery blooming hill and roseate pastel petals looms freely. Because the Stellaron's core was attached to the Ambrosial Arbor's ley line, the sensible way to destroy it was using your fate to cut off the link between them by creating a Bounded Field. 

You acquired the relic and its summoning rhapsody from a nomadic entrepreneur for your collecting hobby. At first, you thought it was no more than a myth until you nearly died in an impromptu trial. Jing Yuan never barked orders to you before, but he did back then because this ancient omnipotent power of Divine Phoenix would consume your life and shatter your spirit core, which meant you could not reincarnate.

However, staying in the cosmos of the Imaginary Hanging Garden, he was but a spectator who bore witness to the sacrificial rite. 

"Breath of flame, wings of iron

Resurrect in the evening shroud

We seek for thine salvation 

Hear me, and materialize thineself, Millennial Aegis!" 

The light of four directions rendezvous immediately at the melody from your jade flute. Aurora borealis proudly formed the cupola shape aloft while the Orion constellation blazed in the vermillion sky. All the exaggerated phenomena used to welcome a gigantic phoenix descends. 

A paramount terror besieged Jing Yuan's features when he saw the Extreme Crevasse covering your hands and creeping up your face. 

When Millenial Aegis beat its wings and annihilated the Stellaron's core, the Bounded Field progressively faded, and so did you. The general darted toward you as quickly as possible, but your body completely evaporated into the ether, leaving behind your belongings before he could reach you. The jade flute carving of an elaborate phoenix rolled beside his heel whilst Jing Yuan held your shaman attire dumbfoundedly. 

"Glory to the Xianzhou." was your last sentence with a peaceful smile. 

Immortal is supposed to be a heavenly gift but turns out to be an eternal torment when it carries an unrecoverable wound and chronic affliction, which causes him half-dead, half-alive. Autumn left, Winter came, Spring withered, and endless loops of seasons with time dusting the old memories cannot replenish his hollow soul. Even in another life, you two will never have happiness because it is a perpetual partition. Jing Yuan does not usually tolerate liars, yet he made an exception for you because no matter how hard he tried, the man could not nurture grudges whom he loves to the world beyond. His heart still throbs beside your memento-the red Camillia hair ornament that neatly stays at the inner chest pocket but no longer shows vital signs. 

[I am not afraid of falling into limbo. I only mind that my contribution becomes meaningless. Please live a happy life henceforth devoid of me because this is the last time I say 'I always love thee.']

Jing Yuan was just dreaming. Dreaming of having another chance to protect you and see your smile once again. 

Millions of possibilities cannot bring you back; he knows because he tried.

Millions of tears either, he knows because he cried. 

Footnote: I intend to write for Dan Feng next, but it will take a long time, and I won't post any fics in the near future. Therefore, you can unfollow me if you want. Again, thank you to all readers who love my fanfic.

[admiringlove]

vii; frost, sparks, and flames.

summary. what do you do when someone whom you love the most in this world betrays you? hurt them back just as much, would be kaeya’s usual answer. but is that what he does, really?

pairing. kaeya alberich x gn! reader.

warnings. physical fighting; swearing; angst; injury; in-game spoilers.

word count. 3.5k.

navigation. previous, masterlist, next.

author’s note. watch me break people’s hearts and smile like a disney villain :D

When someone who cares for you deeply—or at least, you thought they did—tells you that it was all a facade from the very beginning, what do you do?

When you care about someone to the point where you would do anything for them; when everything leads up to betrayal, what do you do? Everything leading up to this moment; every choice, every sentence, every word, every action was thought out. Not one bit was done out of their own volition, but because they were ordered to. What do you do then?

Kaeya whimpers, almost, as he looks to you. His eye travels back and forth between yours, which only look at him in shame. Your lips are sealed, tightly in a straight line as your hands stay by your side, clenched as he waits for something.

Anything.

Your eyes blink at him slowly as the letter in his hand falls to the ground. He scoffs now, as he feels anger bubble in his veins. His eye is widened as he looks over at Diluc, "He knew? This whole time?"

You suck in a sharp breath, nodding lightly with your furrowed brows as you meet his gaze. Diluc steps up, an arm raised as a way of calming Kaeya down as he says, "Kaeya-"

Kaeya's mind takes him back to the time when Master Crepus died, and the way he'd come to Diluc in tears babbling out the truth before the guilt ate away at him. He remembers the way Diluc took out his weapon and pushed Kaeya away, telling him he wasn't his brother anymore. That he couldn't trust him anymore. Kaeya had unsheathed his sword, asking Diluc to stop. To not be angry and listen—but that's just it, isn't it? Diluc hadn’t listened. In his eyes, Kaeya was an enemy back then. Immediately, Diluc swung his claymore at Kaeya, who'd fallen down as his skin seared with blisters. Kaeya'd coughed as the rain pattered away at his body, reaching for his sword which had dropped only a few inches away from his palm. And as soon as he picked it up and stood, a glow followed from the hilt of his sword to his eyes—it was an ice blue, and then a Vision appeared in his other hand that he could only stare at with the utmost hatred. Diluc had sneered at him, telling him to get up and fight. Which he did, but before he could hurt his own brother anymore, he'd only frozen him as much as he could before mumbling out a broken apology and leaving.

Then, in the middle of the night, Kaeya had shown up at your door. He'd quite literally fallen onto your arms when you'd opened the door, completely wet from the rain as his consciousness almost faded away. The Vision fell from his palms and onto the floor and you could only stare at him in absolute horror as you patched up his wounds. He wouldn't tell you why they fought, and just simply sat there at the edge of your bathtub as you rolled bandages around his forearm, telling him to rest for a while and not move too much. You'd taken him to the Church the very next morning, making up a lie about a Pyro Abyss Mage attacking him as Barbara took over from there. Kaeya had given you a grateful smile as Barbara dragged him inside so she could treat his gashes. You’d mouthed him a “take care” in return. 

That very afternoon, as you went into Jean's Office to hand her a report you'd been working on, you watched Diluc sign his resignation papers from the Ordo Favonius. You'd gasped as his eyes met yours, and you left abruptly, not wanting to create a scene. When Diluc came out of Jean's Office, you'd questioned him on why he would do such a thing, which only led to him telling you about how the Knights were going to give the credit of killing Ursa the Drake to Dottore, of the Fatui, to form a stronger alliance.

"Something about the citizens of Monstadt losing faith in the Ordo Favonius if they found out my father was the one who saved them," Diluc mumbled before nudging your arm off his and leaving. You could only watch as Diluc walked away.

Later that week, you'd told him about yourself during a visit to the tavern. It was almost empty, only one or two people were left, and they too, were completely inebriated. Diluc wasn't surprised at all, saying something like how you were always protective of Kaeya and that he could already guess. That was probably the only time you'd seen Diluc drunk, taking him to your place just before the break of dawn so nobody would see him. Kaeya came to know Diluc had cut off all ties with the Knights about a week later, after his injuries had healed, then would end up going to the tavern again and again. Sometimes, to see how Diluc was doing. And others, just to drown in alcohol to make himself feel better for the night.

"Kaeya, if you would just listen-"

"No," he says, his voice eerily quiet, "I won't."

You swallow a bit of air, and Kaeya can see your throat move. His own Adam's apple bobbed as his hand reaches for the hilt of his sword, quickly pulling it out and pointing it at you, "I won't. Because you betrayed me."

Your eyes widen as you try to muster out something to him. Anything—anything that will make him listen. You're desperate now, but all you can do is look into his eye and hope he understands. Your voice breaks as you step closer to him, hands held in front of you, palms up for him to hold, "Kaeya, just please. Put the sword down."

He's stubborn. He always has been. Kaeya even takes pride in that fact. He juts his lip, pointing the sword's tip to your neck as he almost whispers, "Don't take another step forward, [Y/N]."

He's reminded of the time when you'd dragged him out of the tavern in the mid-afternoon. It was sometime after the whole Diluc-left-the-Knights fiasco, and he would hole up in the tavern from time to time. He wasn't drunk this time around—no, he was only a few drinks in when you busted through the door and grabbed his arm. You threw a pouch of Mora for Charles to catch whilst you dragged Kaeya out the door(who persisted as if his life was ending), "Thanks, Charles, I'll take it from here!"

"Let go of my arm!" Kaeya glowered, shaking his arm out of your grip. You huffed, grabbing it again as he objected, "Hey, you can't do this-"

"Shush," you mumbled, walking him straight outside the gates of the city. He'd been bumbling out protests this whole time, some things along the lines of "Where are you taking me?", or "I have documents to file back at the Headquarters!", or, "Let me go!". You didn't let out a single word, simply letting go of his arm only when you were a little far away from the gates and near flat ground. Kaeya had asked you what you were doing. And just then, you'd pulled out your sword pointing it at his neck, "Kaeya, I challenge you to a duel."

He had told you to stop joking around like children until you said you weren't. He'd stepped away, turning his back on you as he began to walk towards the gates again until you yelled, "Scaredy-cat!", which obviously was a blow to his ego. Almost he uncovered his sword, kicking it up into the air as he took a stance, "Don't call me that."

He shakes himself out of his thoughts as he sees Diluc pull you back. And suddenly, all Kaeya can see is a claymore held out in front of him as you stand back, watching with teary eyes and sobs escaping your lips ever-so-often. He scoffs, "Of course you need my own brother to protect you, [Y/N]."

"If you would just listen to them then I wouldn't be in this position," Diluc says, his tone awfully calm. Kaeya's voice lowers now, directed to the red-haired man as he says, "Did you? Did you listen to me when I needed you to?"

Diluc's eyes widen now as Kaeya makes the first blow towards him, pushing with as much force as he can so he can get to you. You're telling them to stop, to not fight, but Kaeya can't hear you at the moment. You're white noise as he's faced with Diluc's grunts. Diluc missteps, falling onto the sofa as Kaeya stays put, pushing as much as he can. He uses his Vision to freeze Diluc's hands as he says, "Don't poke your nose into something that doesn't concern you."

"It does concern me. You're my brother and they're my best friend," Diluc mutters back. Kaeya's almost taken aback, but before his emotions can get the best of him, he recovers. He replies with a jeer, "You said I wasn't your brother anymore. You were right. I never was."

("Diluc, I'm your brother, if you would just listen-"

"No," comes a low voice from the claymore wielder as he closes the door to the manor behind him. Kaeya's eyes widen as he steps backward. Diluc pushes him now, with both arms and that too, harshly, "No, you're not. You're not my brother. You never were."

He then pulls his claymore out, as Kaeya splutters, “Diluc, what- put that back.”

Kaeya takes his sword out, only to protect himself just in case things get nasty when Diluc says, “I can’t trust you anymore.”

“Yes, you can, if you would stop assuming things and just listen to what I have to say-”

But he doesn’t. He does the absolute opposite and hits Kaeya as hard as he can with his weapon, blistering his skin. Kaeya trips, falling down the stairs with a thud as yelps. He drops onto the grass, his sword clattering beside him. Everything feels quiet against the pattering sound of the storm as he blinks. His cheek is pressed against the ground as he hears Diluc’s footsteps descend down the stairs. The rain becomes heavier now, falling against his body and soothing the burns on his skin, but harsh enough that it feels like a thousand needles poking his skin. The pain is unbearable, but he has to make Diluc understand. He has to let him know that no matter what happens, he's always going to be on his side. He has to, so even though there are wounds on his skin implemented by his own brother, he gets up. Grunting, Kaeya picks up his sword as he stands with his other hand in a guarding position. Before he can say anything, an icy blue glow now appears on his sword, followed by his eyes. Kaeya's hands are cold as he looks down, a Vision falling into his hands from the sky. And suddenly, he feels as if he couldn't possibly hate himself more. He looks up at Diluc, who only tsks and derides, "You're worse than scum, Kaeya. Did all those years really mean nothing to you?"

"That's what I'm trying to get through your thick skull-"

But Diluc doesn't give Kaeya any more time. All he sees is red, and he keeps swinging his claymore until he can't see anything but burns on Kaeya's body. He keeps swinging, and Kaeya keeps blocking and dodging. He doesn't jab at Diluc even once, the only moves he does are to protect himself from getting hurt or to stop Diluc from moving—which he does using his newfound Vision. Kaeya hates the fact that the Cryo Archon chose now of all times to give him his Vision, but he's also sort of thankful because he freezes Diluc just in time before he kills him.

"I-I'm sorry," he sputters out, placing the sword back in its sheath, "I'm so sorry, but I have to go."

And Kaeya leaves, buckling the Vision onto his belt. His mind has only one destination, and it's you.)

Diluc uses his Vision this time, burning through Kaeya's skin as his claymore comes into contact with his shoulder. Kaeya yelps, it's not too loud, but you hear it. Diluc gets enough time to stand up from the sofa as he kicks the coffee table to the slide, the contents of it falling onto the ground with a thud. You watch the two of them in panic, too scared to step in because your Vision hurt either of them really badly. 

"Stop!" seems to be the only thing coming out of your mouth other than their names. The scene feels all too familiar; whenever the three of you fight like this, someone ends up getting hurt seriously—last time it was Kaeya, and this time it might be Diluc. Last time, it was Diluc who was blinded by rage and betrayal. Enough to bring his own brother to the brink of collapse. This time, it’s Kaeya. You keep telling Diluc to back away, but he wouldn't listen. Neither of them does. 

(You're sipping on chamomile tea when two heavy knocks jolt you out of your trance. The weather was too stormy for anyone to be outside, really, which is why Jean had told everyone to go home and rest for the night. A few higher-ranked officers stayed back at the Headquarters, choosing to spend the night there working. You'd opted to take a few documents home with you before it had started to rain. 

Your pupils dilate when you open the door, immediately met with someone heavier than you falling into your arms. Within a blink, you can tell it's Kaeya as you help him stand against the door steadily. There are burns scattered all across his body, many gashes and blood dripping from more places than you can count. He's shivering, and there's ice covering the more serious injuries. Your heart drops as you brush out the water and icicles from his face.

Something falls out of his hands, and you follow his line of sight until you're met with a Cryo Vision. It's staring back at you, along with Kaeya and his half-lidded eyes. Before you have time to process anything, you wrap his arm around you and lead him to the bathroom so you can get him cleaned up. However tired he is, he still watches you undress him. Every grimace, every furrow of the eyebrows, every pursing of your lips as you trace each wound carefully. You pull out the first-aid kit, taking out the alcohol and a bit of cotton as you gently dab it on his wounds. He winces almost immediately, but your words of affection seem to stop him from thinking about the pain. His mind was racing until he had gotten here, but he seemed to be at peace for some reason. 

It was probably you that was causing it, anyway. 

"Care to tell me what happened?" you ask softly, "Did you go on another nightly escapade?"

Kaeya swallows the lump in his throat as you look at him expectantly. You finish stitching his last wound as he mumbles something, but you don't quite hear him, "Pardon?"

"Diluc. It was Diluc," Kaeya manages to say it, processing his own words in his mind. His own brother did this to him; he couldn't believe it either. He was only trying to tell Diluc that he was never going to side with the Abyss or Khaen'riah, come what may, but Diluc didn't even take the time to hear what he had to say. He grunts in pain as you clean his wounds once again, "He hates me."

"I'm sure he doesn't. It's probably a misunderstanding, anyway. Diluc loved his father, and Master Crepus just passed away. The two of you need time to mourn the loss of your father in your own ways," you reach out to grab the bandages, but Kaeya stops you from doing so. His hands intertwine with yours as you say, "Kaeya-"

"Everything is going to change," he says, his voice laced with fear, "Diluc hates me. With good reason. Maybe one day, you will too, if you find out what I've done."

"Is that so?" you raise an eyebrow. You come closer to him now, and suddenly Kaeya can notice that sitting on your bathroom floor as you almost close the gap between the two of you feels almost sensual, until you let out a whisper, "Why don't you tell me what it is you have done? It could only be so bad."

"No," he grumbles, shifting to make his position more comfortable, "And I hope you never have to find out."

You chuckle as you finally take the bandages into your palms and start wrapping them around his torso first. He can only watch you—the faintest smile of your lips, the tiniest glint in your eye, the small hairs near your hairline falling perfectly without you even trying. You looked beautiful, and the dim yellow light fixating on your face didn't do you justice. The little hums you'd do pleasantly after completing even the smallest of tasks perfectly made his heart jump, and he'd always told himself you could only be his best friend. Nothing more, nothing less. You smile wider now as you look into his eyes, "Let's get you to bed. I'm gonna take you to Barbara tomorrow so she can properly heal you, okay?"

"I don't want people finding out that Dil-"

"They won't. Rest assured.")

Diluc uses his claymore to his advantage, pushing Kaeya up against the wall near the front door. Your eyes widen as you watch Kaeya use his Vision to get out of that position and point his sword at Diluc's neck. He lets out a "hmph!" in triumph before he turns to look at you. But before he can reach you, Diluc pulls him back using the fur coat, slamming Kaeya back against the wall. Kaeya lets out a short cry, and you can't take it anymore, so you pull Diluc off of him. But before you have the chance to say or do anything else, Kaeya's jabbing his sword towards you, and Diluc angles his claymore just in time. The sword inches away from your neck, and the claymore in between, stopping you from getting hurt, "Step. Aside."

"B-But-"

"You're only making it harder, step aside!" Diluc yells as Kaeya overthrows him. Diluc stumbles now, and they continue going at it again—you can only watch, until you see a similar pattern in Kaeya's moves. 

(It had been a couple years since Master Crepus passed away. Kaeya had lost almost all hope to reconciling with Diluc, so he'd try to get back at the Abyss with all he's got. You'd come along this time after he had asked for your help.

"So... what did you need me for?" you ask, as the two of you finally stop walking. Kaeya halts before he turns to you and says, "I've been following the Abyss closely for the past few months. Some of their operations have been held here and I found out that an Abyss Herald is currently situated inside. I need you and your Vision so I can get rid of him quicker."

"W-what?" you gathered out, eyes wide as your head turns almost immediately to look at him. He doesn't look back, but only takes in a sharp breath before walking into the ruins. You follow him, as flabbergasted as you are, because you have no other choice. 

The two of you encounter Abyss Mages first, along with some monsters here and there. Until you finally come across the Abyss Herald. Kaeya lets you go first, to pose as the distraction until he comes in for the elemental reactions every few seconds. You watch Kaeya as he uses his Vision to distract the Herald—before he misleads him with a swing of his sword upwards, and as the Herald moves upwards to block Kaeya's sword, Kaeya creates a long and sharp icicle using his Vision behind his back, stabbing the Herald right in the upper quadrant of the abdomen. The Abyss uses some sort of portal to slip away just before he dies, and Kaeya looks at you with a small smile planted on his face.

"We did it," he says with a sigh, and you let out a breathy laugh in return, "Drinks on me tonight.")

Kaeya first tries to freeze Diluc with his Vision, stepping back a little as Diluc blocks it. He then smirks, and with a raised eyebrow, Kaeya attacks Diluc near his shoulder with his sword, which is easily blocked too. 

What happens next happens faster than Kaeya could blink. He does the same thing he did that day, but it's not Diluc he's stabbing—God, it's worse. It's you.

He can only watch as you make your way to where should've been Diluc bleeding out; Kaeya feels like an outsider, a third person watching the events unfold in front of his very eyes, and he can't do anything to stop it. Because it's too late, he's too late, he doesn't even comprehend that it's you he's hurting until it actually happens. Your eyes stare into his, and Diluc's are widened—everything seems slower as Kaeya immediately stops. His whole world comes to a halt, really. 

"I'm sorry," is all you say.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[zenalios]

Untamed Seas; 5 - Shadowed

Index (R18+)

Summary

Amphitrite, sea goddess, and daughter of Nereus, is less than willing to marry an Olympian, let alone Poseidon, the very god who overthrew her father. She does so nevertheless, in a desperate move to protect her sisters following Nereus’ absence.

The marriage is beneficial to them both: Poseidon gains legitimacy through a union with her, effectively solidifying his control over the seas, and Amphitrite guarantees her sisters' safety, along with all prestige due her status as queen.

The catch? She finds his domineering personality utterly insufferable, and he, the most fearsome god, resents being stuffed into an unwelcome marriage.

They have all eternity to make it work.

TW // Abuse - Verbal and Physical ; Abusive Relationship ; Forced Marriage

The time had come for the bride’s veil to be removed. Having thoroughly showered the new queen in a flood of fruits and nuts to symbolize fertility and prosperity, along with whispered well wishes, the wedding guests and servants hastily filed out of the throne room. 

It was then that Amphitrite, daughter of the sea god Nereus and river nymph Doris, was left amidst the mess, with but a single dolphin as the goddess’s escort to the bridal chamber. 

Her heels were sore from standing nearly the entire duration of the feast at Olympus greeting her new in-laws, a wild frenzy which had flown by without any opportunity for her to savour the occasion and her last moments of freedom. This made her rather grateful for the brief respite the palace denizens had granted her in the form of peace and quiet. 

Now was a good time to shake out a few nuts from the folds of her skirt, and sweep away into her palm some dried fruits, the latter of which she did not discard, but furtively snuck into her mouth —not that she was hungry, she merely needed something to gnaw at and ease her misery.

“This way, Your Majesty.”

Amphitrite raised her eyebrows, still chewing. Had the creature bowed any lower, it would have tilted over and performed a front flip through the water. The mere thought of it alone caused her to accidentally bite down on her tongue. The bitter taste of ichor briefly filled her mouth; it did not mix well with the dried fruits she had just consumed. At this, her chest heaved. She put a fist to her mouth, another hand cradling her abdomen. She rather wished her stomach would give up its contents. 

Maybe she wouldn’t have to meet him then. 

Curses, the dolphin had raised its head. The goddess forced her shoulders to relax and unclenched her jaw, staring out into the abyssal hallway ahead. Breathe, she reminded herself. Three deep breaths and a very slow exhale later, however, and she still wasn’t ready. “Your Majesty?” The dolphin’s voice echoed.

“Just—" Amphitrite held up her hand, turning away from the poor beast as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just give me a moment.”

“Ah, yes Your Majesty!”

She tried to think of other things instead. Like how Erato had cried upon seeing her once more, how the rest of her sisters had bid her farewell as her wedding procession departed for Olympus, their precious tears glistening against the dancing twilight sky, how many gifts her new subjects had eagerly pressed into her hands as they slowly followed after her chariot, shuffling behind her in droves every step of the way to the ocean’s depths, how thoughtful it had been of Hera, Hestia, and Demeter to decorate the wedding halls with deep blue corals in her preferred colour as opposed to gold the shade of her newly-wed husband’s… hair.

The hand she had raised fell to her side. Poseidon. Her husband. 

Amphitrite straightened. 

As if she was not miserable enough, the reminder of who it was she had married, and what exactly he had not done, only infuriated her all the more. Granted, she now knew the marriage was also against his wishes —something Demeter had accidentally revealed at the feast —but he had not even been in attendance, had refused to dignify, and accordingly, acknowledge her, and remained so even upon her arrival at his palace. Poseidon had not appeared throughout the entire ceremony at all. Instead, some upstart nymphs were charged with bringing her to the throne room’s hearth, their numbers barely enough. It was a far cry from the utmost care and attention her new sisters-in-law had put into hosting the elaborate feast held prior to her departure. 

What really grated at her, however, was that Zeus had travelled to Oceanus in the form of a dolphin to pressure her into this marriage, and now she was still being led by one to consummate it. 

Call her stupid for attending that party and gaining her fellow gods’ attentions, but how could a simple nymph like her have expected that the most lecherous member of the triumvirate would go against his word and actually attend. It was supposed to have been a simple affair on an island hosted by Amaltheia and other minor gods, her sisters and herself attending in their missing father’s stead, without the king of gods present, without leading to her being chased, no, hunted down, to her grandfather’s waters, without her sister being taken hostage in exchange for her agreement.

Only a digging sensation in her palms made her aware of how tight she had squeezed her trembling fists. Now released, they left little red crescents where her nails had been. She stared at the imprints a little longer, as if they could tell her who the exact source of her misfortune had been, or what, even, this particular emotion was supposed to be.

The dolphin started as Amphitrite cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry.” She said awkwardly, shooting the creature a quick smile that dropped without even meeting her eyes. Her body was still quivering from the adrenaline that pumped through her unsteady heart. She inhaled deeply once more as she readjusted her veil and allowed the air to slowly slip through her lips.

“Let’s go.”

The passage itself felt suffocating. Though the three Olympian goddesses had painstakingly redecorated Poseidon’s palace to welcome its new mistress, and in accordance with her tastes as well, it still did not change the fact that the goddess herself remained uneager to meet her new husband, let alone be his wife.

At first her escort swam immediately beside her short of grasping her arm, as if fearing her dragging pace meant she planned to vanish midway on their little journey to her husband’s quarters. If only she could. Perhaps it worried she would stall for more time, and delay the ceremony so as to invoke the sea king’s wrath, as to be expected from someone who behaved as though the world revolved around him; this was most likely the case, she realised. 

Though Amphitrite had yet to meet Poseidon himself —again, she bore absolutely no inclination whatsoever to consort with someone who had ousted her father, and she could not guarantee that she would not slap him upon making his acquaintance— rumour was it that he lived and breathed the concept of “perfection”. They even went so far as to call him a “god among gods”.

Was it any wonder, then, that her arrival had been more lacklustre than her own family's welcome for a new maidservant? Such a vain god expected time and the world to stop for him, even when he himself would not stop for others. Like father, like son, she thought with distaste. She had already met Zeus, and he was bad enough. Unfortunately, such a god had now become her husband, and she would have to live with it for all eternity. 

Small wonder then, that her sisters-in-law had tried their best to ensure a grand festival on her side; they must have known things would fail miserably on her husband’s end. 

Amphitrite blinked. The dolphin was now a short way ahead of her in the passage. Did I stop? She couldn’t recall having done so since they had left the throne room and the rest behind.

“It’s alright, Your Majesty.” It spoke before she had the chance to ask. “You will be good for him.” This time, her footsteps did grind to a halt. Amphitrite stared at the creature in disbelief. 

“Really.” She noted sarcastically. It was true. She was doing Poseidon a favour, not the other way round.

A minute later the dolphin gasped, as though it had committed some unspoken cardinal sin —really, she could not tell what swam through that sleek grey head, or what the creature was overreacting to. “My apologies for speaking to you without permission.” Oh. So that was why. She nodded .

“Er- Your Majesty,” it hastily added, only adding to her bemused state. What a shame her thoughts of Poseidon had stifled any laughter that might have bubbled. Nevertheless, she could still afford a smile, this one more genuine than the last; now she allowed it to reach her eyes, and it stayed even as her chest grew tight.

“Is that so.” Were those words the truth or merely what the creature thought she wanted to hear? Amphitrite scrutinized the dolphin for a moment, before shaking her head, “I’m sorry.”

At this, the dolphin shot her a quizzical look. She supposed it was not used to being on the receiving end of an apology, least of all from a god, considering just who it was the creature served.

As she opened her mouth to explain, an afterthought struck her from the shadows cast over dim light. Surely it had been a figment of her imagination? Upon second glance at her shape and the dolphin’s streamlined figure flickering against the wall, the bend of a strategically-placed vase curved to reveal the edge of a twitching tail. One that could not possibly belong to her, for she had never possessed a tail, nor the dolphin, whose fins were smooth and sleek —everything this one was not. The longer she stared, the more apparent it soon became to Amphitrite that more tails lay in other similarly inconspicuous locations, each a foreign presence to her. 

The young queen now swallowed whatever thoughts she initially possessed of confiding her feelings in the creature. Perhaps she should not even have apologized to begin with. After all, the creature served Poseidon himself, and so did the many pairs of eyes watching her still. And if they all served him, did that not mean they were defectors who had betrayed the memory of her father? 

Feeling exposed, she tugged the veil forward to cover her bare arms. It all made sense to her now, she thought miserably. The nymphs that greeted her upon arrival now lay hidden to scorn the daughter of their previous king, their previously whispered words carrying not blessings but ill-wishes. The same sense of grief that had struck her upon departure from her sisters washed over her anew: the realisation that she was well and truly alone in this palace.

Amphitrite grit her teeth, willing herself to endure their stares. “It’s nothing.” In truth, the bridal chamber was not so far away, the greater distance completed when she was escorted to the throne room itself. From there onwards, it was merely a simple trip into the heart of the palace. However, it was still larger than her father’s grotto, and far more stifling owing to the expectant audience that surrounded her. 

By the time Amphitrite’s thoughts ground to a halt alongside her own footsteps, the newly-wed bride was utterly dour.

Her escort swam forward, rapping once, then twice, on a looming pair of golden doors. “Her Majesty has arrived.” There was no response. Amphitrite’s scornful frown deepened. Just a cubit away, her ears picked up on chittering from the hidden nymphs. The dolphin cleared its throat. It knocked again, speaking louder this time, “Her Majesty has come for the night.” Amphitrite folded her arms, glancing upwards with an impatient huff; still no answer. 

As a result, more whispers were thrown in her direction, wearing Amphitrite’s nerves dangerously thin. Either they knew that she knew they were there, and simply did not care, or they remained blissfully unaware of the fact that their voices had increased in volume, so revealing their presence to her.

Growing up Nereus’s firstborn, the new sea queen was used to being stared at by the multitude, had practically been raised to ignore their presence as she carried about her business. It was the only reason she had been able to cope up till now. But now, their voices were an extremely unwelcome addition in this smothering hallway —her skin crawled with every murmur and response, that even the silk veil placed over her hair tugged at each follicle, further weighing her scalp down with every turn and swish. Her nails bit down on her arms in a desperate attempt to prevent herself from being overwhelmed. 

It was the lowest moment of her life after her father’s disappearance, and these upstarts had come all the way to watch her, to laugh at her suffering.

“You’re a goddess now.”  Hestia said earlier that morning during the nuptial bath as Amphitrite was being scrubbed down, “I believe you will be a good one.” Sorry, Hestia, a small voice within her apologised, though Amphitrite herself remained unsure what exactly for.

The next time she heard another sound, the sea queen whirled towards that particular column. 

“Enough!” She snapped viciously. 

One stamp, and the maiden was sent hurtling against the opposite wall with a loud thump. 

The only relief such an act of violence brought was release and a small sense of satisfaction as the rest began to scatter away; deep down, she felt sick to her stomach at the way the girl had hit her head, now limp and unmoving. 

Only two nymphs lingered behind, hesitating as to whether they should save themselves first or leave their friend to her demise. They flinched when she turned to them. 

“Take her and go.” She ground out, waving her hand at the offending nymph. At once, the pair sprung into action, one hurrying forward to grab the girl, the other looping a limp arm around her. Both hastily bowed as they retreated.

Amphitrite released a shaky breath. 

Now that the nymphs were truly gone, the goddess was forced to face the extent of her actions. She needn’t have gone that far when a simple “Begone!” would have sufficed to send them scurrying. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her escort raise a trembling flipper to knock once more. 

A pang of regret shot through her chest. It was something she imagined only Poseidon would do, and now she had stooped to his level too. 

The dolphin’s attempt was met with a hand. This unwanted marriage deserved no such pomp and circumstance: if the groom himself did not care for it, then neither would she. “Enough,” The bride spoke firmly, a trace of bitterness creeping into her words. She tentatively pushed at the door —and winced.

A sudden stream of golden light burst through the darkness.

“I can do it myself."

4 - Enalios, β ; 6 - Brine

[nemycchi]

Delusion

A Childe X Lumine Fanfiction

Rating : Not Rated

Tags : Psychological, Mild Angst, Character Death

----

During moments of utter silence, Childe recalls that which Lumine once told him about a book she had read from a far away land. 

"It is of utmost importance that those who seek to fight monsters must not become one in the process." 

He likes to think that perhaps, by mentioning it, she had once hoped that he would be reminded of his main aspiration—to conquer the world that is, and not to simply bathe in the blood of his enemies. 

It has its merits, he admits—for he finds himself fighting alongside her during the turning point of the war, the darkness in him dampened by the white light she emits—cleansing the corruption that has resided in him for the longest time. 

This too though, reminds him of another of her words. 

"The deep dark abyss—stare for too long and it would stare back to those who dare." 

It is true, for he knows that ever since he dropped down that hole in the world, he emerged as a monster that is only tamed by bloodshed. 

And from the moment he knew Lumine, perhaps by her as well. 

He has always carried a portion of that so-called abyss, feeling its vines wrapping inside his very being. He is a monster, that much is true, but tamed as one can be, he became a tool under her commands. 

He does not care, for it is times with her when the whispers of the dark become muted—turned into nothing but echoes of the past. 

"Childe? Breakfast?" 

The man spies her slender form by the doorframe of his bedroom, sees her domestically ushering his sleepy person into the kitchen and he feels as though he had achieved that which he desires, with her by his side. 

To conquer the world. 

They did. They won. And it was all that he could ask for. 

Celestia is no more. The abyss is no more. It is just him, Lumine and the rest of the world. 

He smiles as he sits down at the table, reaching for her hand as she places the bowl of steaming Calla Lily Seafood Soup before him. 

"Oh, my favorite. What's the occasion, girlie?"

"Mhm, nothing in particular. Just wanted to cook something special for you." she smiles back and he thinks he saw the glimmer of stars beyond her eyes. 

Or perhaps it was nothing but an illusion, masking the deeper end of the void he is familiar with—if such end even existed. 

Childe shakes his head for he believes that that is not the case. Lumine is here with him. And the abyss is no more. It is no more. 

And if the calling of that dark bud inside him grows too strong anyhow, he knows she is here to defeat it for him. 

For she is also perhaps a monster in her own rights. 

 

--☆☆☆--

 

The bags under his eyes, and the haunted looks in his face tell everyone that he is far from recovered but everytime someone comes to ask him how he is faring, he will do nothing but face them with a smile before answering. 

"I'm very much fine! Lumine takes good care of me." 

If there were curious glances sent his way, he does not care. They must be seething inside—jealous that it was him who conquered her heart by the end of it all. 

The savior and the reformed harbinger.

What a perfect love story—great as a tale to pass down from generations to generations. He sighs at the thought. 

"Childe, pardon my query but I must ask—how have you truly been?" 

He already lost count of how many times the same question had been asked of him. 

He stops walking—to face the former Geo Archon a few steps behind. 

"I do not understand why everyone keeps on asking the same question. I already told you i'm fine, didn't I?" 

Oh how he hates it when they ask—as if they were doubting his princess' ability to care for him, for it was her who has been on his bed, in his kitchen, in his very house ever since the world achieved true peace. 

They do not understand just how capable Lumine is. 

And they will never know, if he has anything to say. 

"Though we are but friends, I must express my deep concern. The dips on your cheeks beg to differ from that which you uttered." 

The blue in his eyes shift into something malicious, to that belonging to the beast he keeps inside. 

"With all due respect, Mr. Zhongli. I do not appreciate the implications of what you just said. You asked and I answered." He pauses. 

The abyss is no more for Lumine is with him. 

"I shall be going now. My wife is waiting for me at home." 

As he walks away, he ignores the burning gaze on his back. It's fine. That former god does not matter. 

What matters is him and Lumine while the rest of the world could go crash and burn, he thinks. 

 

--☆☆☆--

 

"Tough day at work?" 

Childe sidles up to her side, wrapping an arm around the apron-covered waist of his beloved. He kisses her temple with reverence—for it is what she deserves. 

"Not really. It was just Mr. Zhongli. And others. Being annoyingly repetitive as always." He grumbles, tucking her head under his chin. 

The small hand resting atop his chest tightens against his clothes. 

"Do they... not approve of me?" She asks almost inaudibly. 

He was quick to deny the preposterous thought. 

"Don't listen to them. They do not matter, girlie." 

Childe feels her shift and he looks down at her. 

Golden pools decorated by the glittering of stars—of tears, he realizes, meet his abyssal depths. 

"Are you... are you going to leave me?" 

He brushes the hair out of her forehead and tucks the strays behind her ears before promptly brushing away the tears that cascaded from her eyes. 

"Never. You are mine, Lumine. As much as I am yours." 

Even the sweetest wine cannot compare to the smile that adorns her face after his declaration. She buries her head on his chest once more, arms crossing behind him, bestowing him with nothing else but warmth. 

Childe thinks for a second, that this moment is perhaps the best there is in the world. And he knows he is ruined for anything else.

It is impossible to feel anything akin to this feeling and he strongly believes that the desire to even experience it from others aside his princess does not exist anymore. 

 

--☆☆☆--

 

The sound of deliberate knocking at the door rouses the harbinger from his sleep. Childe growls in annoyance at whoever is behind that piece of wood as he untangles his limbs from the goddess laying beside him. 

He kisses the top of her head before deciding to rise and check who their visitor is. 

He stills when the one in front of his humble abode makes himself known. 

Zhongli, of course. 

"Mr. Zhongli, why the early visit?" 

The man only hums before crossing his arms, pinning him with a serious gaze. 

"May I come in, Childe?"

"Ah, of course." 

He lets him in and ushers the former archon to the couch. Upon sitting, the latter immediately scans his surroundings with vague concern in his eyes. 

"I must say, your house is surprisingly empty and devoid of life, Childe."

"What do you mean? I think it's pretty homey. Lumine designed it by herself when she first got here." 

A frown makes its way to the other man's lips. 

"Childe, can we talk?" 

He stiffens, tone changing into a defensive one. 

"We are talking, are we not?" He spats.

"Why don't you ask Lumine to come down here with us?" 

He summons one of his water blades. 

"Why exactly are you here, Zhongli?"

"Call Lumine, Childe." 

In a flash, the water blade comes in contact with the polearm that materialized in front of the visitor. 

"Why. Are. You. Here?" He asks, hostile in every way as he accents each word with a swing of his blade—all thankfully parried. 

"I need you to understand, Childe." Zhongli calls forth a jade shield that rattled even the sturdy walls of the other man's home. 

A water spear slams against the shield. 

"That Lumine..." 

Yet another side step, perfectly timed to avoid the beast cloaked in water suddenly crackling with electricity. 

"Stop it!" It yells. 

But Zhongli is not known for being gentle. The wrath of the rock and the harsh truth—both must be laid out for him to save the monster disguised as a man. 

"Is no longer with us." 

A beat passes.

"She's gone, Childe. And you must accept that fact."

"No!" 

And like that, the man surges forward with the fury enough to fuel wars. 

The walls crumble and the terrified shrieks of townsfolk in the immediate vicinity sound off but Childe could no longer care. 

Him and Lumine. The rest of the world does not matter. 

His mind goes blank with nothing but white hot anger, and he brandishes his weapon with renewed vigor. 

"Take it back." He quietly demands, voice distorted. 

Instead of complying, multiple stone steles rise up from the pavement, obscuring the two men from prying eyes. 

"Everyone grieves for her departure, I assure you. We are hurt as much as you are." A water blade makes contact with the archon's cheek and he winces as response, "but she chose to sacrifice herself for this world's peace and she will not be happy if she sees you rotting away to your demise, Childe."

"You—you don't know anything! Do not lie! Lumine..." A crack in his composition and Zhongli is quick to take advantage of it. 

All at once, like a puppet with strings cut off, Childe falls forward when Zhongli's polearm strikes down his chest. The accumulated hunger and fatigue from weeks of barely holding on to her memory suddenly come crashing down upon his person. 

Empty plates and sweet nothings. 

Cold bed and pristine kitchen. 

Unused scarf with the color of the skies and the clouds—like the view he's witnessing right now. 

Stare into the abyss, and it stares back at you—its remnants staying within, slowly consuming that which it latches on to. 

The abyss is no more—or so he believes. 

"Lumine... she promised me." he whispers into the wind. 

The rustling of cloth distracts him from his thoughts. 

"Do not lean too close to that edge, Childe. I beg you, not as your friend, but as Lumine's—please, do stay with us." 

Before his eyes closed, he heard the call from the deep dark abyss of the waters. 

The sea is calm. And he couldn't care less about the rest of the world. 

Him and Lumine, he thinks. Him and Lumine.

[littlefreya]

Nice day for a White Wedding

Summary:  Even on your wedding day, there is no getting away from August. His grip over you has no boundaries.

Pairing: August Walker x Reader (you)

Word count: 3.3K

Warning: Explicit smutty smut, MaleDom/FemSub, stripping, spanking (rather hardcore this time), slight fingering, bondage, rough sex. Wheeeeee

A/N: So my amazing @agniavateira​ who is also my editor(!) challenged me to a request a while ago and it turned out Ummm more explicit than I thought. So I hope you guys don’t unfollow me after this but not blaming you if you will. Also the name, yes, I am a Billy Idol fan. 

Title: Nice Day for a white wedding

White suits you well, a delicate contrast against the shade of your skin. That dress was, without doubt, a marvellous choice. Your mother complained about it being too simple, wanting you to pick something more extravagant. But you knew from the moment you saw it that this dress you wanted to get married in.

The sheer fabric with the little floral details, the way the tulle flows from your hips and falls down your feet makes you feel like a fairytale princess. You can’t help but pose at the mirror in your living room; chin atop the arch of your shoulder, tilting your head and letting your hair sway down your forearm.

All that’s missing is a little golden tiara and a bouquet of pale pink roses and you’ll be ready for the big day.

You nudge your thumb against the diamond ring, and then collect the tulle of the dress in both arms, lifting it and letting it fall calmly onto the floor.  

“Looks good on you, princess.”

Your blood turns to ice in your veins. You don’t even need to turn, that deep thunderous voice is already distinguished. 

Your little fairytale has taken a dark twist. You glance at the reflection, watching how he appears from the umbra of light.

A monstrosity so beautiful it makes your heart feel sunken.  

You keep quiet, letting his footsteps dominate the atmosphere in the room, making it thick and heavy with fear. He moves from the darkness, letting the light shower his face. He looks the same as the day you left him. His face still appears as if it was cut from marble by some artist; that moustache still adorns his face, giving him that dangerous-looking edge. 

Without even noticing you hold your hands together, trying to cover that striking diamond ring. But August notices, his eyes trailing over your reflection, drinking in every detail.

“When is the wedding?”

You swallow hard and narrow your eyes, not wanting to dignify him with an answer. He has no right to be here, to taint the new life you created for yourself. 

Because that’s what hurricane Walker does, he leaves you bleeding, a wreck of a woman. 

August lowers his head, looking at his shoes. Knowing him well, it only means that he is harbouring his anger right now. Hell, he has been harbouring it for the last three years.

“This weekend.” 

Talking to him feels as if you broke some spell or summoned a demon by mistake, making him real and not just a figment of your imagination. 

He answers with a bitter smile, his eyes touched by a storm. 

“You really thought you can just leave and then marry someone else? You really thought I’d never find you?” 

“I never thought you’d care enough to bother.” you dare, assuming you’re right. But you remember what happens when you err with August. The payment is painful.

The storm inside him begins to rage. His eyes blaze, even from where you’re standing you can see the small wrinkles that form at each corner.  

“Turn around.” 

Slowly and carefully, as if to not awaken any sleeping dragons, you turn. Refusing to meet his glare, you stare at the floor, hands laying loose at the tulle of your dress.

“Take off that fucking dress.” 

He commands in a voice so calm and rich it wouldn’t have sounded like order if it was heard by another person. 

Stunned by his demand, you finally gain the courage to look into his eyes. The sight of those blue crystals is the cage that draws you in. 

A prison of delights, made of diamonds. Beautiful, but still sharp.

He smirks, knowing he just won. One look and you are his, you’d fight it every time but the conclusion would always be the same: you’d be sore and sorry. Numerous times you told him it was over, yet you always took him back.  

“Did I stutter? Do as you’re told!”

Much to his delight, your chest heaves, making your breasts rise and fall in the v-shaped cleavage of your dress.. You reach a hand behind your back, pulling the zipper down which immediately makes the dress loosen from your body.  

Staring down at nothing but your shattered dignity, you reach for the strap hooked around your shoulder and begin slipping it down. 

“Slowly, and keep your eyes on me.” August demands, forcing you to pause with the strap in the middle of your forearm. Your eyes dart up to meet his stare, trying to read whatever is in that dark mind. 

Perhaps, it’s best you’d never find out.

The strap slides down your forearm before you tend to the other, letting your fingers strip it down while trying to think of some sensual song in your head. That’s what August wants: debauchery and eroticism.   

Your eyes remain on the beautiful blues obediently, trying to show no fear, but the quiver in your lower lip gives it away. August remains composed, caging you in his gaze, there is a faint grin in it.  

The fancy dress finally slips from your body, the fabric swirling around you for a swift moment like tender petals falling from a rose. It piles at your ankles and you hurry to cover your breasts as if he hasn’t seen them a thousand times before. 

He gives a huff, taking one step closer while shaking his head. 

“Aww, is my little princess getting shy? Lay down your arms.”

You obey, exposing your breasts to him. 

The outlines of his cock begin to show as he hardens against his trousers. The thought of it makes you damp in your underwear. It’s been three years, you can’t help but wonder how many broken mouths he had around him since you left. 

You’ve only been with one man and he is hardly the man August is. Yes, he satisfies you, but August destroyed you. 

His hand reaches to adjust his erection before inching toward you. The soft thud of his footsteps makes your heartbeat pace abnormally. The closer he gets, the bigger he looks. You wonder for a slight moment if he was this muscular back then when you still dated.

Finally, he towers over you, his face tilted down as he looks at you, offering a slanted smirk full of dark desires. You remain stoic, unsure how you’re supposed to react but then he leans in, pressing his lips ever so gently on your forehead. 

Everything you felt three years ago hits you like an axe at the back of your head. You breathe, nearly shocked by the circus of emotions that flood your chest. All that love and lust, all that fury and sorrow. 

Falling for August is worse than any sad love song ever written. The problem is, you’re sinking into an abyss.    

His lips hover over your mouth, his nose gently bumping against yours. Still, he remains there. Only his hands move as they work the seam of your plain cotton panties, rolling them down your thighs. 

He takes your hand, raising it and slightly pulling away so it will be at the level of his face. He looks at your ring finger with harsh disapproval. Opening his mouth, he takes your finger in, making you flinch as the hot wetness of his saliva surrounds your delicate finger. He suckles on it for a mere second. Your finger comes out bare and he spits the ring on the floor with utmost contempt.

With your wrist locked in his large hand, you never dream of protesting. On the contrary, you want to beg him for more, forgetting that you once had dignity. You can’t help but pout at his mouth, your eyes seeking that little freckle on his lower lip. 

“Did you dream of the moment I’d find you?” August asks, letting his finger trace the shape of your mouth.

“Sometimes, it was a nightmare.” you declare, parting your lips against his touch.

August hisses through his nose, his touch turning from gentle to crude in an instant. He grips your nape and conquers your mouth, exploiting your flimsy gasp to slip his tongue in. He kisses you for your betrayal, for all the years he had to suffer others, for the days he needed you and you weren’t there. His lips suck onto yours, changing angles to onslaught you from every direction. His tongue is fickle as it overpowers yours, and you hear that deep hum of his voice that makes you flutter against him.

Your lips are swollen and red when he ends the kiss. If not for the hand that holds your nape and hair, you’d be down on the ground by now.

“Get on your knees.” 

Still breathless you stare at him stunned as if his words are suddenly too complicated. Sighing with a wisp of frustration he shoves you down, forcing you to kneel in front of him. 

You are now facing his very hardened bulge, your eyes stare at his groin and then travel up to look at him submissively. August is in his favourite position, on top, staring down with his chest puffed with arrogance. His hands reach to unbuckle his belt and you can’t help but press your hands to massage that aching desire of his, longing to have him in your mouth.

But he has other plans, forcing your chin away with a pinch of his fingers. “No, I want you on four and I want to see you crawl.”

His hand leaves your chin, his head gestures at the direction of the bedroom. Where you and your-soon-to-be husband spend the night.

“Do as you’re told.” he commands, hardly even needing to raise his voice. “And do it slowly, I want to look at your cunt, I want to see how much you drip for me, understood?”

“Yes, August.” You turn on your knees and begin crawling on four, trying to be as sensual as possible. You arch your back and sway up your ass for the man you’ve abandoned for so many good reasons, yet right now you can’t even think of one.

You can hear the rustle of clothes behind you, the thud of his shoes being thrown somewhere and eventually the sound of the leather of his belt as it slips from around his waist. There is a small smacking sound and you realize he’s still holding the belt and slapping it against his palm. 

Your knees nearly give in at the thought of what awaits you in this bedroom. But you still crawl on, swallowing your pride. 

August kicks the door closed when the two of you are finally inside. It’s just the two of you in the house, you find it odd but then you realize it means to heighten your fear, to make you feel hopeless and owned. 

He reaches for your elbow, pulling you to stand up, letting you glimpse his god-like form only for a moment before throwing you facedown on the bed. You are pleased to see you were right, he has grown bigger in the last three years, gaining more muscle.  

You feel the bed shift as he places one knee on the mattress, and with one strong hand, he collects you to stand on four again while he kneels right behind you. You know what’s coming next but you are still surprised, hissing in as his large hand slaps your ass and then squeezes your flesh possessively.

“Did you miss this, princess?” his hand squeezes even harder, his middle finger slightly teasing your slit. 

You bite your lips, leading forward and squirming with anticipation for the next one. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he asks and grants you another slap, this time making sure not to miss your swollen lips. You gasp, fingers wrapping around the floral linen of the bed. 

“Yes sir.”   

You turn your head, seeing him stare at your mound with sick hunger while the bulge in his trousers appears agonisingly enormous. This is what always scared you about August, how much he was willing to endure to torture others.

“Look away,” he warns you as he notices your stare. You realize the belt is still in his hand and you shiver, uncertain if you want to find out what August planned as your sweet punishment for running away. 

“You thought you can just come into my life and leave?” he asks you, one hand sliding up the curve of your ass. You mean to answer but then you feel movement behind you, and then make the mistake of turning your head to gander at him.   

The first smack takes away your breath. The leather stings against your skin, so harsh that for a moment there you are sure the flesh came off from your behind. You try to be brave, fighting away that cry that begs to escape from your throat. 

You deserve this, after all.

You hear him breathing heavily behind you, prolonging the time of the next smack. You won’t foresee it or get used to the pain too quickly, so the excitement will get you wetter. You try to adjust your breath, your back arching upward and downward when you receive the second smack. 

“Uh!” the whimper you fought to keep leaves your lips, your hand pulls on the bedsheet. The worst part is that you’re throbbing, and not just from the pain. Your petals are swollen red, needy for more and August sees it all, enjoying every second of how pathetic you are.

August unleashes another punishment on your ass and this time you cry is a mixture of pain and pleasure. Your entire body squirms back and forth as if daring him to give you more.

The time in which you receive the fourth, fifth, and sixth smacks are nearly immediate. As you hiss and mewl you can hear August chuckling behind you, his free hand massaging your red aching ass, his fingers sliding up and down between your folds almost clinically to feel the soaking thick wetness that awaits him there. 

“You’re so wet, does this boy of yours make you wet as I do?” 

“No, sir!” your voice cracks into a cry, certain you will receive another smack but instead his hand strokes your body with tenderness that is a complete contrast to what you’ve just gotten used to. August always loved to play hard, he wanted you to feel him, not just his body but the raging storm of emotions inside him. 

But when he is gentle, and he would be occasionally after breaking you apart, it would be the certain touch that’ll make you die out of love. 

His strong digits brush down your sensitive muscles, soothing you, tracing and admiring every curve he missed and yearned for. 

You moan, enjoying his caress, eyes closing dream-like while the mattress shifts again. You sense August as he moves closer, his arm reaching to grab at your torso, pulling you to stand on your weak knees. He keeps you pressed against his chest whispering in your ear how much he missed you while brushing your hair aside. His kisses are amorous, prolonged and wet on your neck, trailing up and down, leaving tingling sensations on your body.

“August…”

You hum in delight, you missed having his name on your tongue even though you’ve been doing that many times while pleasing yourself, ashamed of how even when you ran away, this man still had you captive. 

“Take me, princess,” he demands against your ear in a raspy voice. Somehow you manage to ignore the snake-like sensation of the harness that wraps around your neck. When you realize what he is doing, you’re already leashed and thrown back on your elbows while August kneels behind you, holding one hand around your waist while the other is clasped around the leather strap.

“August!”  

He hushes you sweetly and tugs the strap to warn you, making you grind backwards at his demand. 

“Be my good girl,” he asks darkly and pushes himself all the way inside you, as deep as he can possibly reach. His fist tightly holds the strap, pulling you to him to meet his thrust and slide you on his cock.

Your groans are synced in a delightful unison, both of you overwhelmed by how much you missed each other’s bodies.

August makes you feel whole, not just by his generous length and girth, but because it’s him. Even though he made you cry way too many times that you can count, the ache of not being with him was far, far worse. 

He pulls away from you in an achingly slow rhythm, one hand squeezing your pained cheek while the other slightly loosens on the leash. You already protest at his departure, needing him back inside when his fist clenches again, tugging you back to meet his punishing thrust. 

“You feel... so... good, princess.” his voice is as broken as your heart as he sheaths himself inside you, groaning loudly to let you know how great and tight you are around his cock. “Take it,  take it all.”

You’re a whimpering, feeble thing, completely submissive to his urge. Throwing your head back with your hair falling against your spine, you let him slam into you again. August harnesses you like a bitch, having complete control over you while your heart flutters at both the sensation of his cock splitting you apart and those deep grunts that escape his mouth. You’ve missed everything about him, the scent of his body, the bass of his voice, his ravenous gaze and even his stupid moustache.

You’re in a haze, existence becoming nothing but beating emotions, your united throbbing organs and the friction that continues to tighten and grow. Suddenly, August’s entire weight is sinking onto you. He moves to cover you, one hand pressing on the mattress while the other reaches out to your neck. His fingers lace underneath the leash while he begins to pump into you violently. 

There is wetness on your cheeks, rolling and dripping down your chin beyond your control. August sighs, looking at you and kissing the salty tears away.

“You know, you look really pretty when you cry.” 

Little spasms spiral from your core, right where you are connected, where August is claiming you as his. He grinds you into oblivion, ignoring the resistance of your walls and whispering dirty things in your ear. One by one, the tendrils of pleasure begin to snap and your walls shudder and dance urgently around his cock.

“Did you really think you could just break my heart, princess?!” 

It was all it took to destroy you. You collapse forward, your orgasm is so intense, you crouch down beneath the large man and scream your pleasure into the pillow. Your ass bucks back against him, taking his swollen cock all the way inside and forcing him to lose control and erupt into your body with a shudder and a prolonged grunt.

You feel the warmth of his seed seeping inside you. He likes to grind himself in while filling you with his cum, giving you all he has before pulling out and watching how it trickles down from your battered entrance with some twisted pride.

With his hands around your ribs, he takes you down with him, lying you on your back while he hovers onto you, sweaty and panting. Now begins the part when he takes care of you, soothing kisses and claiming strokes on the wetness of your body.

“Call off the wedding,” he makes one last demand, his lips pressing to your abdomen, trailing down lower in apology for every painful bruise that surely will be there tomorrow. 

You comb the mess of curls on his head between your fingers, watching him with a clenched heart while he lifts your legs and kisses all the way from your curled up knee to your inner thighs. 

“You are coming home with me, and that’s the end of it.”

Closing your eyes, you flex on the mattress with muscles aching from his touch. Your lips part slightly as you whisper your answer into the dark. _______________________________

[miss-tc-nova]

Tonight - Eraqus x Reader

SCREW IT! I’M DONE! HAVE IT! I’ve been working on this for too long and it’s starting to eat at me. It’s not perfect, but it’s time to move on!

NO BETA WE DIE LIKE THE SCALA UPPERCLASSMEN! 

Music inpsiration: Let’s Get Out of This Town - Carrie Underwood

~~~~~

              Leaves rustle above, dappling the ground in a perfect mix of cool shade and warm sun. My pen scraws across the book I’m holding up in a rather awkward manner. The reason for such awkward writings shifts again, turning the page of a book I told him to put away at least ten times now.

              “Eraqus, would you please focus.”

              Splayed across my lap, the young man responds, “I am focused.”

              “Then what did I just say?”

              “Uh…That the founding of Scala Ad Caelum was the start of a new era for keyblade wielders.” I stare at him, a mix of annoyance and disappointment painted across my face. “What?”

              “That was the first thing I said TWO HOURS AGO!” I drop the notebook on his face. “Era, the Founding Festival is in three days and you haven’t even written one word of your speech! Your mom is going to be so pissed if you mess this up!”

              The notebook gets pushed aside as he rubs his nose. “I forgot about it, okay. Besides, if she’s so afraid of me ruining the family name, she shouldn’t have put this on me.”

              It’s in these truths that I can’t fault him. His parents are trying to exhibit Eraqus as the perfect heir to blue-blooded family—except, everyone knows Eraqus doesn’t couldn’t care less about his heritage.

              My fingers slide through his soft, wavy hair. “I know you hate it, and I agree that it’s not really fair, but being Tardy Fleetfoot isn’t gonna get you out of this one, sweetheart.”

              His eyes open, staring off into the distant sky; I can practically see the gears turning in his head.

              “What if it could?”

              “Huh?”

              Finally, Eraqus sits up. “What if…we ran away?”

              “Seriously? I know it sucks, but you wanna run away because your mom asked you to make a speech on behalf of your family?”

              “Yes! I mean, no. I just…” Shoulders slump, his eyes cast down. Suddenly, the ever-present light he radiates dims. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now and…I think we could be happier outside of Scala.”

              I feel a knot in my stomach. “When you say ‘we’…”

              “I wouldn’t blame you if you said no, but travelling across the all the worlds would be a lot more fun if you were there with me.”

              Eraqus could easily be the heir his parents keep nagging him to be if he would just take their requests more seriously, but I know he has his reasons for rebelling. As for me, I’ve been struggling with a lot of things ever since I met a man in a black coat. I began questioning our purpose and history, which has admittedly affected some of my work. There’s no reward, no guarantees—no certainty that what we’re doing will mean anything; what he showed me has shaken my resolve in this career. Doing something so selfish for once has an incredible allure.

              My voice in careful contemplation, I ask, “Do you really think we’d be fine out there on our own?”

              That adorable grin that scrunches his nose returns. “With you looking after me, I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Of course he could bring a smile to my face so easily. “Just you and me, travelling the worlds, no responsibilities, doing whatever we want, being together! It’ll be perfect!”

              He takes my hands and I can feel the excitement tingling in his fingers like an infection. Still, I can’t quite lose myself to irrationality the same way he can.

              “What about your family?”

              He sighs, his gaze dropping. “All I have left are my parents and I’m not sure they even see me as their son anymore—just someone to follow the family tradition. And honestly, I don’t care. So I’ve got nothing holding me back.” His gaze turns on me. “Do you?”

              My mind frantically sifts through excuses and obligations. Even in my shattered determination, I’d always convinced myself that the path of the keyblade wielder was the right thing to do and that this was my place in this existence. But right now, my heart washes out those thoughts more and more with each beat.

              “No.”

              I’ve never, in all my years of knowing him, seen Eraqus smile so brightly. And suddenly, my entire future feels like an abyss of the unknown, but it’s bright.

              “Then let’s go.”

              “Now?!”

              He scrambles to his feet, arms thrown out. “Why not?!”

              My brain rattles, trying to get a grip on the suddenness of it all. “Wh-But…What about the others?”

              For the first time, his confidence falters. “I’m not sure they would understand. They’ve wanted to be masters for as long as I can remember.”

              “And Xehanort?”

              His voice lowers to something more sober. “This is the life he’s dreamed of. Gods, he would probably be angry that I want to give this up.” His drooping shoulders square up and he turns to me, determination in his eyes. “We can’t say anything to them.”

              “Are you sure?”

              Hesitation flickers briefly. “Yes. Not a word. Okay?”

              I nod. “Okay.”

              “Good.” Eraqus throws his arms around me, squeezing so tight he lifts me off the ground for a moment and the uncertainty of my life feels long gone by now.

              We agree on a plan—opting to sneak out after curfew—and even talk about some of the things we’ll bring with us, but the conversation quickly dissolves into Eraqus telling me about all the adventures he wants us to have. I hang on every word, the nerves still fluttering in my chest but having the utmost faith in him. Before long, I can’t help thinking that curfew can’t come soon enough.

              Checking up and down the halls, I sneak my way from the kitchen with a bag in hand. I hadn’t managed to snitch much since it had all been locked away for the night, but anything would work until we get out of here. Realistically, food is the most important thing we need to worry about, but Eraqus promised me he would grab the other things on the list we made. I just hope it’s going as smoothly for him as it is for me.

              A finger jams into my cheek. “What’s got you all smiley?”

              Correction: I hope it’s going smoother for him than it is for me.

              In spite of the flush boiling into my cheeks, I attempt to give the offending red-head my best glare. “Am I not allowed to smile just because I’m happy?”

              His brow arches. “It’s more the reason why you’re happy that’s suspicious.” Those amber orbs eye up my bag. “And what’s in the bag?”

              The heat is climbing into my ears as I hold the bag tighter against me. “It’s none of your business Bragi; can’t I just be happy to be happy?”

              “Me thinks thou doth protest too much,” he hums before leaning in. “What are you hiding?”

              Hand against his chest, I push the young man back a step. My heart is racing in my chest while I struggle to remain calm. “What does it matter to you?”

              His shoulders bounce. “I get curious when people start acting weird.” Once again, those eyes narrow, gleaming with serious intent. “So, are you gonna tell me or do I have to pry it out of you?”

              I force an eye roll, pushing past his so-called ultimatum. “If you don’t quit pestering me, I’ll tell Urd it was you who ruined the ice sculpture she made for the magic project last week.”

              That puts a damper on his investigation. “You wouldn’t.”

              “Oh I would.” I poke at his shirt. “You let poor Baldr take the blame but I watched you botch the aero spell that knocked it over.”

              “You have no proof.”

              “I have proof that Baldr was helping Eraqus with homework and the others were working on their projects together on the training ground. You’re the only one without an alibi and your project was the only other one in the class, yet you were overlooked because everyone thought your wonky, incomplete project was broken too.” Finally with some confidence, I smile. “Besides, who’s Urd more likely to believe? Me? Or Smarmy Fluffcoat?”

              Bragi scowls. “Fine. But I’m on to you. I will figure out what you’re up to.”

              “Run along, Fluffcoat,” I say, shooing him away from me.

              As he walks away, I feel a tug in my heart. Bragi, Urd, Vor, Baldr, Hermod, and Xehanort are my classmates—no, more like family. We spent years together, working together, taking care of each other, laughing together. They were the only reason I never chickened out of becoming a keyblade wielder. Of course, I’m giving up that path now for different reasons, but I didn’t think I would miss anything about this life—I was wrong.

              I have to remind myself that I have preparations to make or I risk giving myself reasons to reconsider.

              Stowed away in my room, I collect the things I’ll be taking with me. Hard choices are made for I can’t reasonably take everything. Mementos, niceties, and even gifts from the people I’m closest to must be left behind. I’m not going to lie, I cried a little.

              With some time to kill before curfew, I jot down the things I can’t say in person. I can’t tell my friends where we’re going—not that I even know where we’re going—but I do everything I can to express how much I love them and that I’m going to miss them. For the life of me, I want them to understand our choices and not to worry about us. Even as I tuck the letter away in the photo album on my desk, I find myself praying they’ll be okay.

              A soft knock comes from the door. Creeping closer, I crack it open to find my boyfriend.

              “Are you ready to go?” he whispers.

              Reaching back, I grab my bag, sparing my room of several years one last glance. “Yeah.”

              As I scurry after Eraqus, I give him a cheeky smirk. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten cold feet.”

              The young man stops in his tracks, turns on me, and jerks me into a hasty kiss. With his eyes sparking with excitement, he says, “Cold feet? Me? Never.”

              His surprise attack has my stomach writhing, forcing him to take the initiative, taking my hand and leading the way. We creep through the silent halls, holding our breaths as we check around every corner. Years spent in this citadel has taught us the patrol route of the staff watching out for kids like us, so we find little trouble on our way to one of the lesser used exits of the student dorms.

              Both of us heave a sigh of relief once the cool night air washes across our skin. There are still patrols scattered about the school grounds but—without restrictive, empty, hallways—they’re easier to avoid.

              We’re so close; once we make it to the back corner of the school grounds, we can hop the fence and we’ll be long gone by the time anyone realizes we’re missing.

              Eraqus glances off to the left, pulling us around the corner towards the right. Immediately, he skids to a halt and I slam into his back. My question dies on my tongue as I peer around him to find the reason for our delay. My heart freezes as we come face to face with all six of our friends, headed by a scowling Xehanort.

              “What are you troublemakers up to?” Urd hisses, looking just as angry as Xehanort.

              “Eheh, what are you guys doin’ out past curfew?” Eraqus asks with a nervous laugh.

              Hermod folds his arms. “We could ask you the same thing.”

              “Uh…” Era’s grip on my hand tightens nervously. “We were just out for a walk. Fresh air under the moonlight’s super romantic, you know.”

              Baldr points out the obvious flaw. “Then what’s with the bags?”

              Stone eyes glance to me for an excuse, but I have none. “Homework?”

              I feel our dreams shriveling in my heart. Xehanort squares up, stepping in to nearly bump chests with Eraqus, his silver eyes practically glowing with his displeasure.

              “Fight me.”

              No one was expecting his challenge. However, without backing down, Eraqus questions him.

              “What?”

              “Fight me,” Xe repeats. “If you win, you can go.”

              Cautiously, Eraqus asks, “And if I lose?”

              “You tell us what’s going on.”

              I reach out to rest a hand on Eraqus’s arm. “Maybe we should-”

              I don’t know if it’s the competitive streak he has going on with Xehanort or a reckless thought that convinced him he has a higher win rate than one out of three, but Eraqus ignores my second guessing.

              “You’re on.”

              Without another word, Xehanort turns and begins leading the way towards the training grounds. The leader glares straight ahead with his opponent right behind him, but the others are free to throw me a mix of glares and questioning glances.

              The competitors take the field while the rest of us wait at the sidelines. I assume in order to keep the secrecy we’d tried to escape in, the two speak in hushed voices I can’t hear. Meanwhile, pressure continues building as the others surround me like I’m some sort of inmate needing guarding—perhaps I am in this situation.

              Finally, Urd breaks the silence. “You know Eraqus is going to lose.” My lips purse, reluctant to respond. That’s not what she wanted. “Seriously?! There’s no point hiding it; just tell us what you guys were doing!”

              I simply hold my silence, but Vor at least seems to have some mercy. “Shh, you’ll attract attention. There’s no use trying to pry out secrets, especially if Eraqus really is going to lose.”

              An arm bumps against me and I peer up at Hermod. His expression seems like a mix of pain and anger; all I’m really sure is that he wants to say something, but he holds his tongue and returns his gaze to the fight.

              The boys clash in silence, only the clang of metal ringing out when keyblades occasionally collide. Eraqus is renowned as a slacker and a clown among the class; nevertheless, he’s got power and skill. And this is the first time I’ve ever seen him take on his best friend without a cheeky grin. For the sake of our ambitions, he’s serious.

              That’s not to say Xehanort doesn’t have a chance—he does have win rate to back him up after all. Right from the beginning, he had us all on the run with his raw talent. So while I haven’t lost all hope in Eraqus, I’m not exactly an optimist either.

              And then comes the slip up.

              Eraqus lunges, but when Xehanort side steps the attack, his wrist turns and he pulls back, hooking his opponent’s foot and pulling him to the ground. And then, when Eraqus goes in for the finishing move, Xehanort shoves his keyblade forward—right where Eraqus’s foot lands. The boy in black stands, pulling his weapon with him and unbalancing Eraqus enough that Xehanort easily topples the enemy and claims checkmate.

              Standing above his opponent, keyblade to Eraqus’s chin, Xehanort heaves. Eraqus, equally exhausted, glowers in his defeat. I can feel the weight of failure sinking in my chest.

              “Out with it,” the victor says. The line of Era’s jaw tightens. Unfazed, Xehanort jabs at his chest. “You agreed to the terms, now talk. And no lies.”

              His chin drops, ebony hair hiding his frustration. “We’re running away.”

              For a moment, Xehanort scrutinizes him. I can feel the others staring between me and Era until, finally, Xehanort’s aim lowers as he lets out a huff.

              “I figured that’s what was going on.”

              Just like Eraqus, my eyes snap back to Xehanort. “Huh?”

              Xehanort, for the first time tonight, smiles as he pulls Era from the dirt. “Did you really think you could hide it from me? You can’t act to save your life.”

              “Uh…”

              “I just wanted you to tell me yourself instead of leaving some stupid note.”

              From his jacket, Bragi produces the note I had left behind. Eraqus shoots me a confused glance. “Must’ve just missed ya sneakin’ out when we stopped by to check on you.”

              The silver-haired man picks up the dropped bag and pushes it against his best friend. “You two better get going. You have a lot of ground to cover and Eraqus’s parents will have all the worlds looking for you.”

              The words slip from my mouth, “You’re…letting us go?”

              Bragi snorts. “S’no secret you two aren’t happy here. Kinda sucks but you gotta do what’s best for you.”

              “Do you guys have enough supplies?” Hermod asks.

              “You better make sure to stay stocked up on food and water,” warns Vor, pulling a bag from her haori to give to me.

              “And be careful not to get sick,” adds Baldr, placing a folded blanket on top of Vor’s gift.

              “Also, you left your map in the library, you dingus,” accuses Xehanort. From his pocket, he pulls the map Eraqus promised me he would get. The ‘dingus’ gives a sheepish smile.

              “Speaking of which, where do you guys plan on going first?” asks Vor.

              Xehanort holds a hand up. “Don’t answer that. The less we know, the better. Just…send us a card from all the worlds you visit, ‘kay?”

              Tears well in my eyes when he pulls the two of us into an embrace. The others pile on, sharing the last group hug we’ll have for a long time. It breaks my heart, but at the same time, we have their blessing and nothing could make me happier.

              Breaking apart, Urd takes my face, wiping away the tears she won’t succeed in erasing. To be fair, there’s not a dry eye among us.

              “Take care of yourselves,” she says through sniffles.

              “I love you guys,” I murmur.

              Eraqus takes my hand, wearing soft smile. I can’t force myself to move and it takes him pulling me away for me to finally turn away from them.

              Once we jump the stone wall, we leave behind our responsibilities, our old lives, and our family—at least our real family understands.

              As we race through the empty streets, my tears start to dry. I’m still sad and I’ll miss them, but I have a bright future ahead of me—besides, it’s not like we said goodbye. No, right now, I’m focused on Eraqus and all the adventures we’re going to have. He’s the light pulling me through the darkness and I wouldn’t have been able to break free without him.

              Coming up on the docks, we slow to a stop, looking over the water the reflects the shining night sky.

              “So, where to first?” Eraqus asks, waving to all the endless possibilities.

              Giggling a bit, I point to the brightest star I see first. “That one.”

              “Alright. That one, here we come.”

              Before I can summon my keyblade, Eraqus pulls me into another surprise kiss. His excitement is palpable, seeping in and instigating my own. When he breaks it, he keeps me close, eyes shimmering like the sky above.

              “I promise you won’t regret this,” he says.

              “Regret? Me? Never.”

              He sticks his tongue out at me for mocking him and we summon the armor that will protect us in the Lanes Between. Without any more delays, we leave Scala Ad Caelum.

              And we’ve never been happier.

[ajaxia]

dying in zhonglis arms

pov: after fighting enemies you weren't ready for, zhongli isn't able to reach you in time

TW: blood, injuries, self harm

taking the commission was a mistake. Leaving without Zhongli was a mistake. fighting the lawachurl was a mistake. thinking you could fight a cryo mage with a cryo vision was a mistake.

your arms ached, the polearm in your hands growing heavier by the minute. your clothes stained, with blood from the lawachurls claws. your body was cold, the ice refusing to leave.

reaching the edge of the cliff you stumbled, hitting a stone and landing right next to the edge. laying there you tried getting up but your body seemed to deny you of any movement. letting go of your your polearm you curled in on yourself, trying to preserve a little more body heat. whimpering you wondered whether Zhongli would come. you wondered whether he would show up before the ice crawling up your legs took over.

--

"Childe?" Zhongli asked in between a sip of tea.

"hm?" the harbinger raised an eyebrow as he carefully crept closer to the small black cat licking its paws. staring at the creature Zhongli couldn't help but be reminded of you. the way the animal held itself with such superiority, but as soon as it was offered company, it melted.

the cat's eyes turned from Childe to Zhongli, and as the two looked into each other's gazes, Zhongli wondered why you hadn't shown up for tea today. it was a ritual that the two of you loved, as Childe made sure to cover the costs.

Childe snatched the cat up, cradling it as it protested indignantly. Zhongli frowned and crossed his arms.

"don't torment the poor animal."

"why? will you tell me another story about some other great big battle if I don't?" he grinned and Zhongli sighed.

"no stories. right now we need to figure out why she didn't show up."

"don't fret old man," Childe grinned, "she accepted a commission today, didn't she tell you?" After a moment he laughed, "by the look on your face I'm guessing she didn't."

"she told you?" Zhongli began to contemplate your reasons for leaving him in the dark on your commission.

"oh no I just keep tabs on her for you. the Fatui here in Liyue are growing lazy and need more things to do."

"i offer my utmost gratitude."

"stop with the formal talk you geezer, but surprisingly she offered to go fight a lawachurl."

"where? the only one close enough for a short commission is in Lingju Pass where the abyss mage is."

"yea that mage did propose quite a challenge, those ice shards sting. but, doesn't she have a cyro vision?" Childe asks, a bit confused about your decision-making. it was common knowledge where the abyss mages hung out, and wouldn't you have remembered?

"that fool," Zhongli mutters. out of all the places you had to accept a commission there. as his heart began to speed up, Zhongli's tea was abandoned and he was running out of the city.

--

in a matter of minutes, Zhongli was at Lingju pass. his eyes raced around the area trying to remember the location of the mage.

"the mage's that way. now go, there's no doubt our little comrade needs you." Childe came up behind him pointing to the small cliff where the mage could be found.

Zhongli simply nodded in gratitude before rushing away.

--

as he reached the cliff, Zhongli gripped his polearm keeping it by his side as he waited for an attack.

that all changed when he saw you.

the polearm clattered to the ground and he raced towards you. dropping down to the ground he pulled you into his lap and let your head lay in his arms.

"Zhongli," you muttered. there was a deep cut on your neck and he could tell the blood was going places that would end up hurting, and the ice on your legs had crept up to your stomach. your skin was cold to the touch and Zhongli realized.

it wasn't his job to save you.

"your vision." he whispered, cradling your cheek with his hands. "it caused this."

"it was hit by the mage. the magic swirled out, it was beautiful." you looked up at him, tears in your eyes.

"i cant feel anything. it's all numb." the desperation on your features began to show. "do something. anything."

"you're beyond saving. i can't fix this." he closes his eyes and pulls you closer.

"i don't want the ice to overtake me. i don't want to bleed out. remember our promise? i thought we both agreed you wouldn't have to watch me die through battle."

"that is the one wish I cannot grant." he snaps, then softens. "i would never hurt you."

"our promise?"

"after giving up my role as the god of contracts, i'm not bound by them anymore." he mutters, now armed with the full knowledge he had no intention of ever listening to your words you mentally break.

it pushses you over the edge. "you're hurting me right now." you sob. "i don't want to end like this. it's either by my hand or yours." your breathing grew heavier and you stiffened. softening your voice you look back to Zhongli. "take my polearm."

hesitantly the archon reached for the discarded weapon. He knew where this was going and didn't like it, but he could never go against your wishes. at your slow instruction, he broke the tip off and handed it to you. as he wraps his hands around yours, you weakly smile to convey your gratitude.

you slowly open your mouth to say more but by then the blood had begun its way into your lungs and it was getting harder to breathe.

remembering how much he hates goodbyes, you simply force a smile and pull the weapon down into your heart. his warm rough hands surround yours and as you black out you see him whisper something but can't quite catch it.

gripping your hands Zhongli closes his eyes, bowing his head and mourning with a single tear.

--

thanks for reading! this technically doesn't need a part two but i will still be writing one about how zhongli deals with the death

[lilyofthesword-writes]

Robotic Friendship - Chapter 14

Summary: The Autobots get a super virus on their computer system. Raf's oldest sister is brought in to help.

Pairing: Ratchet x OC (platonic), Soundwave x OC (platonic)

Word Count: 2179

Warnings/Disclaimers: Injury agitation/pain. Experimentation/borderline torture (kept it short).

Masterlist

Darkness surrounded her. Nikki called out. Nothing answered back, not even an echo. Holding herself and looking all around, she moved forward. The chance of finding someone or something was unlikely, but it was better than just standing around.

A bright light shown suddenly in the distance, dissipating the inky blackness. Nikki let go of herself to cover her eyes, but it didn’t take too long to adjust from the temporary blindness. Large blue crystals rose from what would be the ground if it weren’t for the abyss surrounding the area. But there was something strange. The total height of the crystals was not much greater than her and there seemed to be an outline of a humanoid form in it. From what Nikki could tell, she was standing behind it. Cautiously, she stepped around to reach what was possibly the front of this form and froze at what she saw. The figure bore the shape of a familiar face.

The figure and the crystals were ripped away with a new, brighter light enveloping her and forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut. Upon reopening them, she was met with Knockout’s faceplate which held a bored smile.

“Wakey, wakey,” he chimed, shining a handheld light in her face.

Nikki raised a hand to shield her eyes. It didn’t seem to help much. The blue crystals on her arm were still allowing the miniature sun through. Wait… She shrieked with the realization that nearly her entire arm was covered in Energon.

Knockout lifted her by her clean arm, a sinister smirk crossing his faceplate. “Well, good to see you’re awake now.”

He set her back down as she stared at him in horror. What did he have planned for her? Knockout plucked a vial filled with green liquid from a nearby counter. He did not even have to open it for it to take effect. The crystals from Nikki’s arm swam up her shoulder and neck, and then descended her side. Unable to scream, she rolled onto the opposite side of her body, the only noise leaving her lips being small, panicked wheezing. The crystals on her neck were constricting her breathing, not so much to kill her but damaging enough.

Laughing, Knockout grabbed another vial from the counter. “Interesting results. Now let’s try this…”

Nikki’s mouth flew open, but nothing came out. Her body convulsed as the Energon a part of her body began devouring her even quicker. Knockout pulled the vials away, and her convulsions slowed to random twitches. The pain was fading but the damage was done. Nikki’s mind was nothing but a blur.

“Well, this experiment is over,” Knockout mused, obviously bored now that he had some results. “It seems both the Synthetic and Dark Energon act as a catalyst. However,” he poked at her. “I never did set a control group… Nor do I have the time to continue to test this theory.”

He paused for effect but received nothing but a blank stare. Venting, he continued, “In other words, this ‘experiment’ was all for naught.”

His words sunk in slowly as she regained some semblance of cognitive function. He did it all… for fun. No other reason. Just because he could. She lay there like a third degree burn victim because he wanted to see what damage he could cause. Rage welled up inside her with nowhere for it to go. She didn’t dare move. She wasn’t even sure she could at this point, not that it mattered. All that was left was for her to be disposed of.

-

Raf wandered the halls of the base, kicking his feet at the ground every now and then. He had left the main hall when Ratchet began yelling at Optimus, something none of them had seen in quite a while, and Raf did not want to be a part of that. He needed to be alone. Trying not to think about what the Decepticons were doing to his sister or even what her eventual fate would be, he sifted through his memories to find something nice.

The little scraplet popped into his mind. He looked around at the hallway. It was the same place he met that adorable creature. Then, he remembered how it almost killed his friends. Raf shook his head furiously. Why did so many memories end with his loved ones being hurt?

“Raf?”

He tensed and looked over his shoulder. It was Jack and Miko side by side.

“Hey…” Raf look at the floor. “What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home sleeping.”

Jack shrugged. “Wasn’t tired, I guess.”

“We felt bad leaving you here on your own,” Miko chimed in, fidgeting with hands behind her back.

Raf turned to face them and smiled weakly. “I’m fine. Really.”

“No…” Jack stepped forward. “I don’t th- “

An alert beeped through the base, effectively interrupting the conversation. Ratchet’s voice echoed alongside it. “We’ve got something!”

-

Knockout held Nikki tightly in one servo as he left the Med Bay, on his way to open a Ground Bridge. Nikki stared blankly into space, barely able to comprehend her surroundings. The crystal growth slowed more so on leaving the makeshift lab but by then only her face was left uncovered. Even her hair had been consumed. The hair tie holding it in a ponytail had crumbled away and left her hair as a wave of semi-flexible Energon.

Doors slid open in front of them. Soundwave was off to the side working away. He made no reaction to show he had been alerted to their presence.

“Now… Where to drop you off at…” Knockout grinned as he checked the maps. “Oh~ Maybe the Antarctic? Mmm… No. It has those little black and white creatures from those movies. The fleshies seem to like them. What about…”

He continued thinking aloud, not noticing Soundwave now standing behind him. The silent mech gazed down at Nikki hanging limply in Knockout’s grasp. The state that she was in… She didn’t even notice the tendril that waves slowly in front of her face. Soundwave tilted his helm and pulled the tendril back as Knockout spun around dramatically on his heels.

“I just can’t decide. This is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make,” he said with a sarcastic smile still plastered on his faceplate.

He held Nikki out in front of him, out to Soundwave. “Here. You decide since you’ve dealt with it the most.”

With the utmost care, a tendril rose and lifted her away, Knockout leaving swiftly now that his fun was over. Soundwave examined Nikki closely. The Energon crystals were beginning to climb up her chin. Reaching out to the panel beside him, he typed in some coordinates.

-

Raf, Jack and Miko ran back to where the others were. Ratchet was pinging Bulkhead and Wheeljack back to the base. The kids raced up the stairs and hit the rails hard.

“Did you find her?” Raf gasped.

“It is possible this reading is Nikki,” Optimus answered. “We will investigate.”

The Ground Bridge opened, allowing the remainder of the crew back to the base.

“So, where do we need to go, Doc?” Wheeljack asked, hopeful that Ratchet’s idea worked.

Ratchet closed and reopened the Bridge with new coordinates. “It’s not far, actually. Remember the Energon mine that was around here?”

Arcee flinched. That was the last place Cliffjumper was alive. They all nodded and made their way to the Bridge. Raf went to follow them but Arcee, being the last in line, stopped him. “Wait here. It could be a false reading…”

“Or a trap,” Raf finished.

She reluctantly nodded, uncertainty swelling under her chestplate. Bumblebee shut off the Bridge when Arcee made her way through. He knew he needed to stay behind for Raf’s sake.

Optimus led the way through the mines with Ratchet as a close second. The tunnel opened to a small cavern picked clean of Energon. At the far end stood Soundwave. The Autobots took cover where they could, aiming their weapons at him.

“What are you doing here?” Ratchet hissed.

A tendril slowly made its way out behind Soundwave, something blue glowing in its grasp. They watched as he set it down in the middle of the cavern. Retracting the tendril, he stepped back and opened his own Ground Bridge but hesitated from moving further. The Autobots turned to each other cautiously. Ratchet removed himself from his stalagmite cover and stepped forward, his optics glued to the unmoving Soundwave. With weapons still at the ready, the rest followed suit. Ratchet reached the blue object and knelt down for a better look before scooping it up gingerly in his servos.

Optimus watched Soundwave while the rest huddled around Ratchet, confusion etched across his faceplate. Soundwave nodded before using his Ground Bridge to return to the Nemesis. Ratchet stood as the Bridge closed, staring down at his servos. At least his theory had been correct, but this wasn’t quite what he expected or wanted.

-

A few hours had passed since the Autobots returned to base with Nikki. Raf was pacing on the platform in the main hall where most of everyone waiting while Ratchet desperately tried to help the girl. They heard Ratchet curse as glass shattered. Storming out of his lab and disappearing in the halls, Bumblebee, who had been trying to assist Ratchet, trudged behind.

Taking his chance, Raf flew down the stairs and past Bumblebee. He froze when Nikki came into view. Tears welled up in his eyes. He climbed onto the table to see her better. Maybe he was just hallucinating. He hoped he was hallucinating. He choked when he found that only her open, green eyes remained untouched. He couldn’t speak. He just cried silently while looking down at his sister.

Optimus stood in the doorway, watching the scene unfold while Jack and Miko peered inside. He left the pair to find Ratchet. It was in one of the back halls where Optimus found him. He was resting his helm against a wall littered with dents, refusing to look Optimus in the optics. “She’s not responding to anything,” he huffed quietly.

Though he knew there was not much he could do to reassure his friend, Optimus placed a servo on Ratchet’s shoulder.

“It’s only a matter of time,” Ratchet continued, “Before she is completely consumed…”

-

The doors to the vaults clanked shut.

“Is this really necessary?” Jack asked with his hands resting on Raf’s shoulders to comfort him.

Optimus nodded. “If she is removed from the base, the Decepticons may reclaim her as a source of Energon. And if humans were to find her…”

“Let’s just say that she’s safer in there,” Ratchet blurted.

Raf bit his lip. He wanted to ask if there was a chance for her recovery but was afraid of the answer. This was no fairy tale. No amount of wishing could bring his sister back good as new. All he would have are his memories.

“May I be alone with her for a few minutes?” he asked tentatively.

The Autobots nodded and made their way down the hall. Jack and Miko were more reluctant but decided to respect his wishes, not without hugging him first.

Raf waited until they were all gone before placing his hand on the vault door while closing his eyes. He thought he could still feel her on the other side of all that metal. A tear rolled off his cheek. Looking up, he smiled softly. With that he could at least leave her the same way she left him.

-

At first there was nothing. Everything had gone dark again. Part of her hoped she was dead just so she would not need to feel the inevitable, tortuous pain again. Then, like before, a light shown in the distance. With nothing else in mind, Nikki made her way towards it. Despite all the books and movies that said, “Don’t go towards the light,” she would rather take her chances than wait alone in the abyss surrounding her. Not without caution, she continued walking towards the light that was emanating more brightly. A peculiar sense began to make its presence known as she drew closer: sound.

It was faint, but she knew she had heard something. A voice, maybe? It was becoming clearer. It almost sounded like her name. Yes. Yes, it was. But who was calling for her? It couldn’t be the Decepticons. None of them had ever used her name (like they’d ever bother to learn it). The voice was much more familiar than that anyways.

The light was so close now. A blurred image appeared, wiping away the darkness. Slowly coming into focus, she found Raf was staring down at her, tears saturating his little face. Her gaze locked onto his but only for a moment. He knew though. He knew she had recognized him. With the weakest smile possible, her eyes shut, drifting out of consciousness. She had at least found some semblance of happiness in that moment. She had finally made it home.

[harlot-of-oblivion]

Flowers By The Sea (Part 8)

Your darling devil helps you face your fear while the romantic tensions rises higher and higher with every wave of the sea.

The second part of the beach episode is here! Hope you enjoy! 😘 

Here’s the link to the list of all the flowers featured in this part 🌺😊🌺 

Chapter 2: His Radiant Rose

When you were invited to a party on the beach, you expected delicious food fresh from the grill, skipping down the shore while searching for pretty shells, and spending time with your darling devil under the sun. You were not prepared for just how gorgeous Vergil would look dripping wet in a speedo. He was the epitome of perfection when he slicked back his hair while walking out of the sea. And while you hold his hand and kiss along every knuckle, you cannot help but to think of the gallant knights from your childhood storybooks.

They were always there to protect their lady…just like you are now, my darling devil.

If anyone would have told you that you would be facing your fears by wading out in the ocean today, you would have laughed at such an unlikely outcome. And yet here you are…agreeing to let Vergil take you out into the salty unknown in hopes of experiencing the wonders of the sea for the very first time. You look up at him as your lips trail off his hand, which is still holding the token of your affection and trust. His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he stares right back with a faraway look in his eyes.

He looks so cute when he’s lost in thought, you muse quietly, adoring the little crinkle between his brow and the flecks of blue shining out of his silvery gaze before knocking him out of his serious stupor.

“Flower for your thoughts?”

Vergil blinks as your sweet inquiry brings his attention back to the matter at hand. He stares down at his hand still within your soft grasp for a moment before speaking. “I’m just…touched that you have so much faith in me,” he admits, opening his hand to marvel at the single white freesia you just gave him.  

You smile up at him warmly. “It isn’t hard to trust you, my grumpy gillyflower!”

Vergil quirks a brow and hums in thought as he stores the delicate bloom in the front pocket of his Hawaiian shirt. “I like darling devil more,” he reveals while leaning in closer to you, which makes you crane your neck up more to keep eye contact. “It rolls off your tongue better,” he adds with a smug smirk as he caresses your cheek and rubs his thumb just below your bottom lip.

You shiver at his intimate touch while the rest of your body buzzes with delight at his suggestive words. Ever since that night by camellias you have been longing for more of this handsome devil. You agreed to be his accompanist for the performance at the wedding just so you could spend even more time with him, hoping that all the flirty banter and yearning glances would cultivate the seeds of affection you sowed within his briars long ago. Your constant daydreams of him are now passionate fantasies, and it’s little teases like this that never fail to stoke the desire for more, more, more…  

“Are you ready to face your fear?”

The serious tone of Vergil’s voice breaks you away from your pining and smacks you right back down to reality. You notice that his lips are no longer curling into that cocky smile that never fails to turn your legs into jelly. His stoic face is now regarding you with utmost care as he offers you his hand, which quickly wrenches your pleasant thoughts into timid apprehension as you glance over at the rolling surf. You take a deep breath and gulp down enough of your anxiety to take his hand in earnest while putting on the bravest face you can muster.  

“Shell yeah! I’m not gonna let this tide me down!”

Vergil shakes his head and groans at your punny response as he stands and helps you up from the edge of the tide pool. You reach down to grab your bucket of shells and giggle while his stern face tries to hide the smirk that wants to break free as he leads you out of the sprawling pool towards the open shore. He stops and looks around for a moment before sticking the Yamato in the sand, explaining that it will act as a marker for him so that they do not drift too far away from their original position.

You nod in understanding as he promptly removes his Hawaiian shirt and hangs it on the Yamato’s handle. It takes all your willpower to not gape at him like a fish while you unfasten your mesh sarong, but your eyes still linger down his chest and long legs. When he turns around to stare out to sea you seize the opportunity to check out his butt, which is looking mighty fine in that blue speedo. And his thighs…they have been the object of your desire in a few of your fantasies, but to see them out of those leather pants in all their scrumptious glory…

Oh! How am I ever gonna get any gardening done with that running through my mind now? you wonder in agony as you drape your sarong over his Hawaiian shirt.

Vergil asks if you are ready to embark once you step up beside him, looking out at the ocean with him as you steel yourself for the challenge crashing ahead. As soon as you give him a shaky nod of your head, he examines your face closely before kneeling so that you can hop on his back. Your arms wrap around his neck as you press yourself close against his body. His hands come around and hook under your knees before slowly standing upright, adjusting his hold on you with a slight jostle before heading towards the object of your deep-seated fear.

Never have you ever felt such an odd mix of emotions churn and bubble deep inside you. On one hand, your cheeks grow hotter the more your body bounces against his back with every step. You were already aware of his impressive strength, but to experience it firsthand is making your mind go crazy with new fantasies for the future. But on the other hand, your stomach feels as if it’s twisting into knots the closer you get to the vast sea. Your legs squeeze tighter around him in alarm when his feet meet the lapping waves on the sandy shore. And as he treks deeper into the ocean you try to focus on the feel of his skin beneath your hands, the sounds of his voice as he comforts you with soothing words…anything to banish the memory that is desperately clawing at the back of your mind.

And it works for a while…until your eyes happen to glance down behind you. The foamy water splashes around about halfway up his calf as he takes slow steps forward, hypnotizing you with its swirling patterns as the sandy floor remains unseen…just like the bottom of the lake in your hometown. It was so deep and so dark while you swam in that huge lake one foggy morning. Your little legs had to keep kicking to stay afloat while you stared down into the abyss…too afraid to scream when a pair of eyes snapped open and stared right back at you from the boundless depths…too weak to swim away fast enough as they sped up towards you with malicious intent gleaming in its unblinking gaze…

A frightened shriek bursts from your lips as you bury your head in between his shoulder blades and shake the memory out of your head. All movement stops as you feel Vergil looking back over his shoulder while you hide your terrified face from him. “How are you fairing, my lovely rose?” he asks softly above the sonorous sounds of the sea.  

“I-I’m f-f-fine,” you stutter, trying your best to keep your voice even, but failing since your body is still quaking in fear.

You can practically feel his critical gaze bore into you as he makes no move to continue onward, calmly assessing the situation while you cling onto him for dear life. He’s probably wondering why he’s even bothering with such a scaredy cattail like me, you thought morosely while holding back tears. You start to regret coming out here with him in hopes of tackling your fear since all it has done so far is shed light on just how weak you are compared to the eldest Son of Sparda.  

“Do you have any Frost poems memorized?”

“Huh?” Your head snaps up to meet his intense gaze while you ponder his abrupt question. “Yeah, but-”

“Recite one for me,” he interjects with an earnest request.

“Now?!” you exclaim while your mouth hangs open in shock. “B-but how can I recite at a time like this?” you stammer while yours hands motion around the tumultuous surroundings.

“It will help you focus on something else besides the sea,” he assures you with utmost confidence while his thumbs draw comforting circles just above your knees.

Vergil’s gentle gesture sends pleasant shivers up your legs, effectively dispelling some of your anxiety among the waves. You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose, catching a whiff of the lavender laced in your flower crown along the sea breeze. The calming scent eases your rattled mind as you think about which Frost poem to recite. You open your eyes as soon as you are ready and nod for him to keep walking before clearing your throat. He gives you a small smile in return and turns back to task at hand as your soft voice rides along the crashing waves around you.  

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth.

 Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear.

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

 And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

 I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

The ocean water tickles the bottom of your feet as you finish your recitation. You look back to see just how far away you are from the shore. “Holy Motherwort!” you squeal softly, hugging around his neck tighter while resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m really out here, huh?” you marvel in total astonishment while gazing out in awe at the boundless sea.

Vergil glances down at you from the corner of his eye, carefully gauging your reaction as he brings up the next phase of facing your fear. “Do you wish to stand here with me?”

You bite your lower lip nervously. “I dunno if I can,” you admit weakly before hiding your face behind his neck.

Vergil is silent for a moment before turning his head toward you. “You’ve come this far, my brazen rose,” he whispers by your ear. “I believe in you,” he adds, gently encouraging you to take that one final step in facing your fear.

Your eyes peek up at him from your hiding place at his sincere words. You stare deeply into his eyes, admiring how the azure ocean brings out the soft blue hue among molten silver as you make up your mind. He’s right…I’ve made this far, you thought, reminding yourself that you will always be safe and sound with your darling devil here is by your side.

“Okay,” you murmur with a determined nod before looking around in confusion. “How do I…?”

Before you can even finish your question, Vergil lets go of one of your legs while pulling the other out and further around him. You yelp in surprise and cling to him harder as his arm wraps around your waist, holding you close and keeping you still as he adjusts your body so that you are now facing him in his strong embrace. Your cheeks start to glow pink as you realize just how close you are to his face. He stares down at you quietly as the crashing of waves and squawking seagulls fill the silence between you two. This goes on for a couple more moments before the corners of his mouth quirk into an amused grin.

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re supposed to be standing here with me.”

“Oh yeah!” you blurt out with a nervous giggle while embarrassment flows through you, which only makes your cheeks burn hotter.

You rest your forehead against his chest to hide your flushed face from his gaze as you ready yourself for the next challenge. Your body wiggles against the vice grip of his arms as you unhook one of your legs from around his waist. The cool ocean water licks at your foot as it brushes against his muscular thigh, and after a heartbeat of steeling your nerves you begin to lower it down into the sea.  

Your foot slides all the way down against his long leg until it finally enters the ocean, shivering at the cool temperature of the water. You try to memorize every twitch of his muscles as your foot drags down, down, down…until it stops somewhere above his ankle. His arms tighten around your waist as you drop the other leg and slide it down against his leg as well.

Vergil shifts his weight back and forth between his feet as you lift your head up from his chest. His intense gaze penetrates your very soul as you loosen your hold from around his neck. Your body slides against his chest as you lower yourself all the way down towards the ocean floor. It takes every ounce of your willpower to not let out a soft moan at the feel of his soft skin brushing against your own warm skin.

As soon as your feet touch the sandy bottom, Vergil relinquishes his grip from around your waist and places his hands on your hips while you get your bearings. A vigorous heartbeat thrums beneath your hands as you take what seems like your millionth deep breath since leaving the shore. You close your eyes and let its steady rhythm give you just enough courage to turn around and face your fear head on by gazing out into the vast unknown in the arms of the man that helped you get there.

Vergil assists you by gently wrapping one arm around your hips to keep you steady while you turn around in place. And as you marvel at the sea, he moves you back to rest against his chest before enveloping you in his protective embrace. You practically melt into the safety of his arms and hold onto them gratefully while the rippling waves rise right below your knees just as he promised. His chin rests against your head as both of you take in the splendor of the ocean as it sparkles under the warm sun in comfortable silence.

“How are you feeling?” he murmurs by your ear after a few minutes of quiet gazing.

“Juuuuuust peachy!” you reply with a bright smile while giving his arm an appreciative pat.

His annoyed scoff blows against your hair, but you just giggle and snuggle deeper into his warm embrace. A husky chuckle rings close to your ear as he nuzzles your neck while his arms tighten around your waist. You sigh happily at the feel of his soft lips as they brush against your skin, and then shiver in delight when they press a gentle kiss on the nape of your neck. Your body hums in excitement and you find yourself saying the first thing that comes to mind just to keep the whimpering moan crawling up your throat at bay.    

“I didn’t expect you to request Robert Frost.”

Vergil stops nuzzling your neck to press his lips against your ear. “Well, I haven’t been able to enjoy his prose ever since you borrowed the complete collection of his works from me months ago,” he reproaches you playfully while his hands glide up your waist.

You giggle as his fingers tickle your sides, squirming a little to get away until his hands settle back down on your hips. “I’m sorry…I keep forgetting about it every time you visit,” you concede as soon as your giggle fit is over.

“There’s no need to apologize,” he insists with a soft squeeze of his hands around your hips. “I know that he’s one of your favorites,” he adds before pausing in thought. “Speaking of which, you still have my copy of Emily Dickinson as well.”

You fight the urge to rub up against his midsection with every squeeze of his hand. “How do you know that they’re my favorites?” you ask in hopes of distracting your overactive imagination from wanting more fuel for your daydreams and fantasies.

“You always return the books that don’t inspire you while keeping the ones that you find captivating.”

Vergil gazes at the endless sea while that little bit of wisdom drifts across the salty breeze. You realize that you have shared this beautiful sentiment with him on multiple occasions at the book café and among your flowers. “But what if it’s not the books that I find captivating?” you ask pensively, thinking back to the earlier stages of your friendship with the grumpy gentleman who currently makes your heart beat faster than a hummingbird’s wings.

“What if it’s the man who keeps lending his books to such a forgetful gardener?”

You feel his head shift down just as you turn your head, raising yourself up on your tippy toes before pressing a kiss right below the jaw. He freezes up at the touch of your lips as your sincerely sweet words weave between the crashing waves, but then a low rumbling hum emits from his throat when you nuzzle his chin affectionately. His head slowly turns until he pins you down with his searing gaze, dipping closer so that you can hear him over the resonant sounds of the sea.  

“Then he’s a lucky devil indeed to have caught the attention of such a lovely rose.”

Your knees grow weak as his forehead rests against your brow, the blue hue of his eyes twinkling warmly while a soft whimper manages to get past your lips. Something in the salty air suddenly shifts and you feel as if you are about to take a step beyond an unseen precipice, wondering if your darling devil is also feeling the line of friendship blur as you tremble in anticipation. A part of you desperately hopes that he will finally capture your lips in the passionate kiss you have dreamed of many times since that wild night…while another part wants to take matters into your own hands and pull him down to your amorous kiss. But the patient part of you wins over, not wanting to force such a pivotal moment as you wait with an open heart and bated breath.  

Vergil leans down until both of your lips are barely touching…but then his eyes widen before glancing out towards the ocean. You yelp in alarm when he spins you around abruptly towards the shore, curving his body over yours to protect you from a huge wave as it crashes into both of you. A terrified shriek leaves your lips as the force of the wave pushes you forward, the water now up to your chest as you feel something brush against your back. You instinctively reach behind you to swat away whatever has ahold of you, but instead your eyes widen in horror as you realize that the bottom string of your bikini top has become untied.    

You quickly bring your hands up to hold your bikini top against your breasts, thankful that the necktie of your bikini is still intact as the errand wave recedes towards the shore. Another type of wave hits you as Vergil asks if you are alright…sheer embarrassment rushes up your body and pools around your cheeks, which turn as red as a holly berry while you whine awkwardly. He must see why you are so mortified…you are after all literally hunched over to hide your crimson face from him. You just want this to end, but the fact that you are knee deep in the ocean and utterly terrified of what may lie beneath its murky depths keeps you from running away.

Vergil tightens his arms around your waist before hoisting you up nearly out of the ocean before making his way back to shore. You cannot bear to face him when he puts you down back on dry sandy ground a safe distance away from the water, disappointed and utterly humiliated by this sudden turn of events. Both of you just stand there stiffly, looking anywhere but at each other as the awkward silence between you two lingers for an uncomfortable amount of time. It takes you a few moments to collect yourself before surreptitiously looking over your shoulder at Vergil, who is currently doing a terrible job at hiding his flushed face while staring down at his feet. You gather what is left of your courage and take a deep breath, preparing your voice to stay calm while you speak to him.    

“Umm…if you can just-”

“Allow me to help you tie it back.”

You stop short at his sudden interruption, squeaking in surprise while his offer of assistance makes your entire body feel like it’s got a bad case of sunburn. Vergil tilts his head at your odd reaction but makes no move towards you as he continues. “It’s the least I could do for making you suffer from my lack of vigilance.”

Your brow furrows in confusion while you shake your head, knocking your flower crown slightly askew. “You didn’t make me suffer, Vergil…I’m just really, really, really embarrassed,” you reassure with a weary sigh, “and probably pinker than a peony on a porch too…that’s all!” you add while trying your best to look him in the eye despite your flustered state.

Vergil is quiet for a moment while his eyes bore straight through you, searching for any sign of distress besides what you mentioned before giving you a slight nod of his head. His stiff posture gradually relaxes as he takes one slow step forward just behind your very bare back. “May I?” he inquires softly, raising a hand towards one of the strings, but not grabbing it until you give him permission.

Your arms tighten around your breasts while warm tingles cascade down your back in response to his offer. You bite your lower lip and twirl one of your feet on the sand as you think it over, but you find yourself nodding your head when you see a spark of remorse in those beautiful blue eyes. The hand that is still hovering close to one of the strings swoops in and gently grabs it as you turn your head to stare at the Yamato, which is just a few feet ahead of you. Both strings tug on your bikini top as he proceeds to tie them back together, mumbling under his breath that perhaps it’s best to double tie them just to be safe. You giggle at his soft mutterings as he finishes tying your top, but a soft caress down the middle of your back turns your laugh into a soft gasp.    

“Forgive me, my lovely rose.”

You barely hear his low apology over the distant waves as you turn around to fully face him. Just the sight of his forlorn frown makes you wish you had more petals to throw in air. “If I had any flowers on me, I’d be showering you with all them right now!” you threaten cutely with both hands on your hips, which earns you a raised eyebrow from the solemn devil. It only takes one step for you to get close enough to wrap your arms around his waist for a hug.

“You protected me just like you promised, so there’s no need to apologize, my darling devil,” you declare softly, hoping that he hears the genuine tone of your voice among the sea breeze.

Vergil takes a deep breath through his nose as you rest your chin against his bare chest. You listen to his soothing heartbeat and sway gently to its steady beat as you smile up at him in adoration. The corners of his mouth curve into a soft grin while his hands encircle your hips, swaying along to your rhythm as he presses a gracious kiss between your brow. You hum as the pleasant touch of his soft lips makes the butterflies flutter faster in your stomach, and as both of you look into each other’s eyes you are brought back at that unseen precipice once more. For a moment you see a spark of resolution within the depths of his silver blue eyes, but it quickly fades as he breaks away from your ardent gaze.      

“We better make haste before the crew starts questioning our whereabouts,” he announces while walking by you towards the Yamato.

You blink and tilt your head at his sudden shift from an open warmth to a stoic demeanor, feeling both confused and a little crestfallen as you follow close behind. He slips on his Hawaiian shirt and grabs the Yamato while you tie your mesh sarong around your waist. Something catches Vergil’s eye just behind you and he goes off to check it out while you pick up your gardening trowel and bucket of seashells. You look over to see him thoroughly inspecting a patch of wildflowers growing by the sea, summoning a tiny blue sword before cutting one lucky bloom from the sandy ground.  

Vergil walks back over to you with a single white flower in his hand, but as he gets closer you notice that the petals are delicately brushed with a soft pink hue. Its funnel-shape and tropical flare marks it as an amaryllis, the bloom born from the blood of a shy and timid nymph in hopes of winning the love of a handsome shepherd. Your heart begins to pound as its meaning echoes through your mind, now understanding why the nymph would go through the trouble of piercing her own heart for the sake of requited love.

“Your boundless determination never ceases to amaze me, my radiant rose,” he compliments, presenting the strikingly unique flower to you with a soft smile.

You giggle at the subtle change of his endearment and demurely glance down at the bloom of brazen beauty while reaching out to take it. Your fingers caress the palm of his hand as you grab the stem and your thumb brushes over his knuckles before withdrawing back with the gifted flower in hand. He watches you bring it up to your nose for a sniff, silver blue eyes smoldering while entranced by your every move. You can feel a soft blush creeping up your cheeks as your eyes flicker up to behold his wondrous gaze.

“And you never cease to charm the petals off me, my darling devil,” you coyly confess, hoping that you have better luck than the shy nymph from that bittersweet tale.          

Vergil takes a step forward and straightens your crooked flower crown with a soft chuckle before turning right back around. As his back turns towards you, he pops the hilt of the Yamato free and unsheathes it with a smooth flourish, slashing the air with two precise strokes before gliding it back into its sheath. The blue portal that he sometimes uses to leave your garden rips open, making you jump behind his back as you huddle in close to hide. He pulls you around to stand by his side, taking your arm and wrapping it around his own while whispering words of comfort.

You never walked through the portal before, but with your darling devil there to lead you it wasn’t so bad! One minute you are standing by a sprawling tide pool, and the next you are suddenly back hanging out with the rest of the crew. They welcome you both back in various ways: Kyrie and Lady offer you a fruity cocktail while Dante asks if his brother finally got the sand out of his…well, you don’t know exactly what he was going to say since a summoned sword interrupted him. You see that a volleyball net has been set up nearby and after some persuading, as well as some competitive taunting from Dante, they drag Vergil off to play a game of beach volleyball with them.    

They try to get you to join too, but you swear that you would only slow them down with your terrible lack of coordination. Kyrie giggles as she wraps her arm around yours and asks if you would like to watch the game together. You gladly accept with a relieved smile and both of you make yourselves comfortable on a large beach towel while the rest of the crew breaks up into teams of three: Vergil, Nero and Lady on side and Dante, Nico, and Trish on the other. Kyrie flips a coin to see which team serves first and after a bit of bickering between the boys they position themselves before Nero starts the game since his team won the coin toss.

You and Kyrie chat about the seashells you collected during your search down the shore while watching the intense game of volleyball. At some point during the game, Kyrie points out the amaryllis still in your hand and you find yourself glancing at Vergil just as he lunges forward towards the oncoming ball as it almost hits the sandy ground. You say that you found it by the tide pool, but Kyrie’s sharp eyes catch the subtle look towards the game and the light blush on your cheeks. She giggles and gives you a playful shove against your shoulder, suggesting that it would be a lovely addition to your flower crown.

Your eyes sparkle with glee at the idea and you quickly undo some of the pins holding your crown before removing it completely from atop your head. The eucalyptus leaves and lavender seem to be none worse for wear after your excursion into the ocean, but there are a couple of freesia blooms missing. You pick out one of the empty spots and carefully weave the amaryllis flower into the crown, unwrapping a few wires to hold it in place since it’s a great deal larger than the freesia. And after a couple of rearranging you don your flower crown and show it to Kyrie for approval before pinning it back into place.

From the corner of your eye you spot Vergil staring in your direction. You look over and smile sweetly while turning your head to show off the radiant addition to your flower crown. His eyes grow soft as one corner of his mouth quirks into a secretive grin before quickly jumping up to hit the ball back over the net. Your eyes linger down his gorgeous body as you watch him move across the sand, wondering how it might feel weighing you down on a soft bed. And his deliciously long legs…you only sat in his lap one time, but it was enough to feel just how strong he really is…and just how long he could go behind closed doors and in between your thighs…

But this nagging feeling comes from the back of your mind as you watch him glide gracefully across the sand. It slaps you with the image of Vergil tearing away from your amorous gaze from earlier…and again when he turned away to open a portal back here. He is a man of action rather than words, and right now his actions denote a sense of hesitancy. Is he really having second thoughts? you wonder, insecurity coiling around your chest as your eyes track his every move. Your heart tells you the opposite: the way he held you in the ocean and came so close to your lips…it all spells out just how much he wants you too, but your intuition warns you about pressing the issue.

Ooh…what do I do now? you fret as your daydreams morph into worrisome thoughts.

“Daydreaming again, I see.”

“Ah!” you squeal softly as the sound of Kyrie’s voice knocks you back down to reality. You look over to see that knowing glint in her hazel eyes again. Your lips curl into a sheepish grin while you shake the anxious thoughts from your mind. “I’m sorry…what were you saying?” you ask apologetically, resisting the urge to fidget under her mischievous gaze by fiddling with a strand of your hair.

Kyrie grins impishly as she turns her gaze towards the volleyball game. “They’re pretty good, aren’t they?”

“Yeah!” you agree with a wide smirk while following her gaze. Both teams are really focused; you can practically feel the tension as your eyes track the ball bouncing from one side of the net to the other until it flies out of bounds. This starts a yelling match between Dante and Vergil, both of their voices raising in volume as their argument grows more heated.

“They’re a little bit competitive, huh?” you observe with a quiet giggle, already knowing quite well how often the twin brothers fight.

Kyrie laughs along with you as her fiancé quickly puts himself between the brothers. “And it always ends with Nero breaking them up.”

You both watch as Nero knocks some sense into his father and uncle while your mind suddenly remembers a minor detail you wanted to know about the wedding. “Oh!” you gasp, “I wanted to ask you something…” you trail off, drawing Kyrie into secretive discussion while the crew resumed their game.

After being asked to be his date to wedding, you immediately ran upstairs to your room and threw open your closet doors. You shuffled through a multitude of flowery dresses of every color and various styles, searching for the perfect dress that would suit the wedding…but none of them seemed right or appropriate for the big day. It was then that you decided to just make a dress and headed straight into your childhood room where you have a stock of fabrics stored. The dress is mostly completed now, but you wanted to check with Kyrie about some minor details before finishing it for the big day.

Kyrie eyes grow wide as you talk about what colors would suit your dress best without drawing too much attention…it is, after all, her wedding day and everyone should be enthralled by her beautiful dress. She claps her hands excitement and assures you that the colors you have chosen will look absolutely stunning on you. You sigh in relief and talk about your plans about the finishing touches to the embroidered flowers. She gushes about your crafty talents and even shares a few of her sewing projects for their kids at the orphanage before her face lights up with a sudden realization.  

“You know…speaking of the wedding,” she begins with a thoughtful expression, but her eyes hold that same knowing glint from earlier. “Have you both decided on a song yet?”

Your heart stops for a moment. “Whaaaaat?” you exclaim while your mind scrambles for an unsuspicious response. “What are you talking about?” you inquire, tilting your head in feign ignorance while trying to sound as innocent as possible.

Kyrie smiles and leans in close before whispering in a hushed tone by your ear. “Vergil once told me that he plays the violin. So, when I heard someone playing the violin when I last visited your home…I just figured that it must be him practicing up there since you two are close friends.” Her sunny smile turns into a sly smirk before continuing. “And I may have heard you asking your friend which song he would like to perform at the wedding as I left your office.”

Your eyes widen in shock as you berate your past self for not considering Kyrie’s keen sense of hearing that day.  “Oh snapdragons,” you sigh in defeat with a disappointed pout. “I’ve totally ruined the surprise.”

“Aww no!” Kyrie scoots closer to you and wraps her arm around your shoulders. “I was so surprised and genuinely touched by such a thoughtful and creative gift!” she consoles with a soft smile. “Which is why I would like to make a request.” Her eyes glance toward her future husband. “I would very much appreciate it if both of you would perform for our first dance.”

You ponder her request while watching the crew give it their all as the game comes close to an end. Your eyes wander over to Vergil, who is glaring at a grinning Dante while Trish serves, and you cannot help but feel a thrilling burst of joy at the prospect of him playing such an important part in the wedding. “I’ll have to run it by Vergil first,” you inform softly as the crew dashes across the sand to finally determine the winner. “But if he’s on board, then I am too!” you exclaim with an ecstatic grin that matches Kyrie’s own jubilant smile.

The volleyball game finally ends with Nero’s team becoming the victor by a scant hair. After a few minutes of trading quips and biting sarcasm, they all agree that the losing team should set up the bonfire by the beach while the winning team gets to have some rest and relaxation. You and Kyrie trade a knowing look, silently communicating that you need some alone time with Vergil to share her request. A bubbly giggle bursts from your lips as you get up off the beach towel and grab your bucket of seashells before skipping off alone down towards the sea.

The sun is now lower in the sky than before your adventure out to sea, illuminating the sand in its golden orange light as you move closer to the ocean. You notice the tide has receded, which reveals a treasure trove of shells among bits of seaweed and other trinkets. Your head turns to look over your shoulder as you shift through the ocean’s offerings, hoping that your covert glances will catch a certain darling devil’s attention. Vergil is putting on his cute Hawaiian shirt, watching you from afar when he grabs the Yamato and starts walking to where you are sitting down on the wet sand.      

“Sooooo,” you begin when he gets close enough, “do you remember my suspicion from earlier?”

Vergil pauses for a moment. “Ah,” he murmurs as his eyes spark with realization, “so my future daughter-in-law has figured out the reason behind our clandestine meetings, hmm?” he surmises while crouching down to sit beside you.

“It’s my fault,” you confess with a guilty pout. “She heard me asking about which song we were going to play while she was leaving.” Your eyes glance flicker over to see his reaction to your folly. His expression has not changed much, the crinkle in his brow furrows a little deeper but he is not giving you a disappointed glare at least. “Buuuuut,” you quickly move onto the matter at hand before he has time to get annoyed, “she did request that we play for their first dance!”

Vergil tilts his head while he raises a brow in astonishment. “She would have us perform an integral part of the wedding reception?”

You nod excitedly. “Yeah! You get to play the song that your son will remember fondly for the years as his first dance with his dearly beloved!” A jovial smile graces your lips as you stare up at him with hopeful eyes. “What do you say?”

A moment of silence lingers between you two while Vergil thinks it over, staring out at the ocean as it sparkles under the setting sun in deep contemplation. You admire his stoic profile while waiting patiently for his decision, seeing a few cracks of emotion here and there within his serious demeanor. And once he has made up his mind, he takes a deep breath through his nose before nodding his head ever so slightly.      

“I…would very much like that,” he murmurs, reaching down to rest his hand on top yours on the sand while turning to look down at you. “Thank you, Y/N.” He gives you a soft smile while his thumb brushes the top of your hand tenderly.

Your body instantly responds to his delicate touch, cheeks reddening and heart racing while you shake your head. “You shouldn’t be thanking me…I’m the reason why we nearly spoiled the surprise to begin with!” you remind him with a light giggle, turning your hand to lace your fingers within his warm hand.

Vergil hums in amusement and gently holds your hand while both of you enjoy a quiet moment by the sea together. It almost feels as if we’re… You do not let yourself finish that thought since your darling devil is very perceptive and will only worry for you like he did in the music room. Today is supposed to be about fun and relaxation before the big day…not eating more bittersweet berries! You give his hand a determined squeeze as your head leans down to rest on his shoulder, accepting that you must wait just a little bit longer for him to come around and sweep you off your feet.    

Your eyes happen to glance over to the side a little ways, and before you know it an elated squeal leaves your lips at the sight of the one thing you were hoping to find during your visit to the beach. Vergil assumes an offensive stance at lightning speed, hand at the ready to wield the Yamato in your defense. You quickly tell him that you are fine before rushing over to collect two wonderful prizes in the shape of a circle about the size of your palm.  

Vergil sighs in quiet exasperation before striding over to where you are carefully brushing sand off the most unique find on the beach. “And what have you found this time?”

“Sand flowers!” you reveal with total exhilaration, gesturing down at the sand while bouncing around like a bumblebee.  

Vergil quirks a brow as he peers down at your prizes. “Curious,” he murmurs while crouching down to get a closer look. “And here I thought they were known as sand dollars,” he retorts with a wry smirk.

Your face falls into an adorable grimace. “But look at them, Vergil!” you demand with utmost seriousness while pointing out the petal-like pattern in the shape of a pretty five petal daisies. “They’re like flowers by the sea!” you marvel with a clap of your hands before carefully prying one out of the wet sand.

Vergil shakes his head and chuckles at your argument, letting you win this round of silly bickering as you proudly hold up your sand flower. “I’ve also heard that finding one of these supposedly brings you good luck,” he informs while examining the other sand flower still stuck in the sand with his appraising gaze.

“Really?” Your eyes widen in wonder before tilting your head in thought. “Then here…take one!” You present him with the sand flower in your hand. “It can’t hurt to have a little luck before the wedding, right?”

You give him a playful wink as he accepts your generous gift with a gracious grin. He puts the lucky sand flower into the front pocket of his Hawaiian shirt while you proceed to pry the other one out from its sandy prison. A brisk wave crashes on the shore and rushes right over your feet just as you free the sand flower, making you shriek in surprise while jumping up in fright. Vergil swiftly wraps an arm around your waist before you can accidentally hurt yourself by tripping over some slippery seaweed beneath the foamy water. You make sure that you did not drop your lucky find, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of it still clutched in your hand before giving your devilish savior a grateful smile.  

“It seems I’m still a little afraid of the ocean even after all you’ve done for me,” you bemoan softly, mentally ridiculing yourself for not being more aware of your surroundings during all the excitement over your discovery of the sand flowers.

Vergil gives your hip a comforting squeeze. “Don’t be disheartened, my lovely rose. You’ve taken a brave first step. See?” he reassures you softly before turning his gaze down towards the surf. “You’re even closer to the sea now than you were while collecting seashells,” he discerns with a proud grin as he pulls you closer to stand by his side.

“And now every time I read some Frost, I’ll think of my darling devil helping me face my fears,” you murmur, cheeks blushing pink as you snuggle up closer to him.

There is a moment of resounding silence before you hear a thoughtful hum deep within his chest. Your eyes flicker up to see Vergil now staring down at you. His striking white hair looks so soft in the light of the sun while his eyes seem to glow like rivulets of blue among a sea of silver. He reaches up to touch the newest addition to your flower crown with a small grin while reciting some Frost of his own:    

The heart can think of no devotion Greater than being shore to the ocean-- Holding the curve of one position, Counting an endless repetition.

As soon as Vergil finishes reciting the short but sweet poem, he bends down and plants a soft kiss just above the corner of your mouth…the same spot he kissed that night by the camellias. A soft whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it while gazing up at him, noting a mix of emotion swirling in the depths of those silver blue eyes. The resolution from before is back, but now there is a certain hope along with some hesitancy…

Your eyes shine ardently once you finally understand; this is meant to be his response to your astilbe flower. You smile and hug him closer, letting him know that you are just as devoted to him as he is to you…and you are not going anywhere while there is still a rose to be found among his briars. All your insecure thoughts from earlier are dashed from your mind as he hugs you back without much pause thanks to your efforts of getting him used to your friendly presence.

It seems I have more luck than the shy nymph after all, you muse, thankful that you don’t have to pierce your heart with a golden arrow to win him over. All you need is a little more patience…only then can you pick the flower that blooms from this sweet devotion and give it to your one and only darling devil.  

Read Part 9 here

Read on Ao3

My Masterlist if you want more 💖

I'd like to thank @harmony-redgrave over on tumblr for the wonderful idea of Kyrie asking them to play for their first dance at the wedding! And I gotta give a small shout out to @rodentsunite for giving me the absolutely cute idea of Gardener Reader making dresses uwu

Tagging: @drusoona @bettybattaglia @exsultry @thedyingmoon @veenus-ow @meowykittenn @fandomhell97 @vergilsangel @thenightgazer @cherryvane @yesno18 @diabeticsugarush @queenmuzz @mary-v-o-n @tinamalee @a-midsummer-nights-odyssey @ancientwhitefire @agentdedf1sh  @divinity-deos @shiranyaaww @skarlet-red-rose

[werejusttouchingeachother]

DUBAI 2019 [August 26th, 9:00PM]

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 T/W: smoking, smutty Words: 3638

True to your word, you’d shown him all of Dubai in the ways that it was meant to be seen—at night. Of course, the crowds never did recede but it was easier to go unnoticed with you manoeuvring him through less packed areas.

More than any other city you’d been in, Dubai reeked of luxury. Fancy sports cars were on every corner, most of the crowds were decked in designer from head to toe and the buildings were taller than any you’d ever seen. One would have to drive quite a bit out of the heart of the city to find areas inhabited by the average middle-classes.

Places that no common tourist guide would ever take anyone.

And so you did. You drove Baekhyun to all your favourite parts of the city, revelling in the awe on his face as you lead him all over downtown.

It was easy to lose yourself in a city like Dubai. Much like New York, it was easy to be caught up in the hustle, a lifestyle where you merely drove from your apartment to the workplace and back, using what little of the weekends that you’d had to yourself to just stay in your bed.

But after three months of living in such oblivion, you ventured out on a Friday night. You drove alongside the beach, wanting to see where the ocean ended or where the land began. And in true Dubai fashion, you hadn’t realised how long you’d been driving.

Until you’d seen the first glimmer of the sun’s rays as it filtered through the dark sky.

There weren’t many places that were dark in Dubai since almost all the roads were lit with the faint yellow streetlights but as you drove along the beachside, you’d wandered too far from the city’s bright lights and closer to the murky darkness that seemed like an abyss as the shore and the ocean merged into one black void.

But then the sun had risen far in the distance, a narrow streak of the first bright ray almost blinding you as it crept over the coastline.

You’d gotten out of the car and watched the sunrise then as it cascaded over the city.

It was slow at first, almost tentative as it leapt over the still waters and you watched as the ocean turned teal again, sparkling with every hit of the sun’s rays that then reached out farther to the skyline and brushed against the peaks of the skyscrapers in the distance.

You can recall how you’d immediately thought of Baekhyun then, sitting down on the sand as you felt the warmth slowly envelop you. You were reminded of all the cities, all the times you’d seen him, all the countries.

But the sunrise reminded you of Paris. Of that afternoon at the hotel after you’d both confessed, of the way he’d taken you into his arms and kissed you. Of how you’d been crying, feeling a cold numbness almost set into you until he’d wrapped you in his ethereal warmth, basking you in his sunshine.

You took him into the heart, driving along the highway that bordered the same Corniche beach.

You’d rolled down the window and watched Baekhyun as he leaned his head back in his seat, eyes closing at the rush of the cool wind against his face. He held your hand over the gearshift, smelling the salty ocean and at one point, you were certain that you could even taste it in the air.

“It’ll be nice to see the sunset here,” he’d murmured and you’d tightened your grip on his hand, closing the windows when the car had slowed as you drove back to the main streets. You let go of his hand to grab his mask and handed it to him, saying, “Sunrises are pretty, too.”

“You don’t like sunsets?”

“I like sunrises more,” you’d shrugged as you turned to the alley behind the restaurant, driving into an empty parking spot. “They remind me of you.”

Baekhyun blinked then, cocking his head in confusion as you unlocked your seatbelt and grinned at him.

“Never mind,” you answer his unasked question, taking the hat off his head. “You can take off the mask. Let’s go have dinner.”

Baekhyun seems wary as you lead him up the familiar wooden stairs by his hand, noticing his spooked expression as he looked around the slightly dark restaurant. You finally reach the glass doors of Trance, pushing them open and smiling when you see the familiar face.

“Zahid,” you call out and he looks up from his phone at your voice, a grin mimicking yours as he stands up to greet you warmly.

“I was starting to worry, Y/N,” he admits, shaking your hand fondly. “You haven’t been here in a long while.”

“I’ve been busy with work,” you confess apologetically before swatting his arm jokingly. “I’m here now to make up for it, aren’t I?”

He shoots you a look, feigning a mock-impressed expression as he says, “Yes, it’s always a pleasure when a guest buys the entire restaurant for four hours.”

You grin as you mouth a genuine ‘thank you’ before pulling your boyfriend by his arm forward, switching to English as you say, “Zahid, this is my boyfriend, Baekhyun. Baek, owner and co-chef of Trance, Zahid.”

“Ah, hello, nice to meet you,” Baekhyun greets, holding out his hand and bowing slightly by habit.

Zahid smiles widely as he takes his hand. “EXO’s Baekhyun, I’ve heard so much about you! I must admit I never listened to Korean music until she told me about you but I really like it! I was there for the fountain show, Power!”

“He was,” you agree, laughing and raising your arms when you could tell Zahid was about to attempt the choreography. “Okay, please don’t embarrass me.”

“But that’s my job!”

“No, your job is to cook for us and run this place that I just paid a lot for,” you retort, rolling your eyes playfully as you grab Baekhyun’s arm. “I’ll be at my usual booth.”

The air is cooler on the rooftop, the wooden floors slightly echoing against every step that you take. The rooftop lounge is wide and spacious with modern furnishings and sleek interior designs. The red and blue moody lightings gave a relaxed and an almost seductive vibe with the dark colour scheme of the restaurant. A cluster of Moroccan-styled pendant lamps are placed at the corners to casting the intimate mood lighting softly over the plush cushions and sitting booths.

Overlooking the banister around the lounge is the breath-taking view of the Dubai skyline. Trance was not on an extremely high floor that overlooked the buildings but there wasn’t really any place from which you could look down at towering Burj Khalifa—except maybe from a plane.

Nevertheless the view was impressive and you knew the Baekhyun felt the same as he stared off into the distance, the city lights reflecting in his eyes like a cosmic galaxy as you lead him to your usual booth at the corner.

“When’d you start speaking Arabic?” Baekhyun mutters as you take off your jacket. He blinks, looking down at the plush couches of the sitting booth, caught off guard.

“Okay, so,” you start in explanation, feeling excited. “I know you expected a fancy restaurant with tables and chairs but this is a lot better—it’s a rooftop shisha bar. The non-smoking restaurant area is downstairs and this is for shisha mostly. Now, okay, listen, I know—” You raise your hands in a calm-down gesture when his eyes widen at your words. Slowly, you say, “I know you haven’t done this before so I thought you could try it because honestly, there’s no better place to do it. No one is here nor can anyone come in because I’ve reserved the whole lounge for the rest of the night for utmost privacy.”

“But,” you continue, giving him a small smile, “I also know that you’re sensitive to smells which is another reason why I booked the entire place actually so that other people smoking won’t bother you. But if you don’t want to try it at all, we can just eat out here because honestly—” You throw your arms open to gesture at the expanse of the sky above you, stepping close to the banister to gesture at the sparkling city below.

“—the view is fantastic,” you complete, grinning at him.

Baekhyun leans back against the banister across from you, crossing his arms with an unreadable expression as he asks, “How long have you been coming here? It must be often since you’re really close with the owner. Also when did you start smoking?”

“Not as often as I’d like to, and no, we just struck up a conversation once and got along fairly well.”

“Y/N, he knows me. You introduced me as your boyfriend.”

You throw your hands up in exasperation. “Okay, fine, we’re kind of close! He’s a great guy and trustworthy, so just believe me, please. You know I wouldn’t tell about us to any random person.”

Baekhyun stares at you in silence, raising an eyebrow when you don’t continue. “Okay. I believe you. Now answer the smoking question.”

You sigh, slumping your shoulders as you shake your head at him. “Relax, Baek, I’m not doing it often. I just come here when I’m stressed because it honestly is relaxing.” You hesitate before crouching to grab your coat from the couch, ready to leave but Baekhyun takes your hand, pulling you down.

“All right, fuck it, let’s do it,” he relented, sighing and giving a small smile when you start bouncing with excitement. He holds up a hand, loudly stating, “Buuuut please get something that doesn’t give me a headache. I have to shoot tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry!” You nod excitedly, calling over the familiar waiter. “I’ll get something mild.” You think before teasing, “Maybe cucumber—”

“Bye,” Baekhyun deadpans, starting to get up and you grab his arm, laughing as you pull him back onto the couch. You sink back into the plush couch after ordering, relaxing into Baekhyun’s side as you watch him stare at the waiter in fascination when he walks back in with the shisha vase in his hand.  

You sit up straighter as he sets up the vase on the crimson Persian carpet between the two of you, stirring the coal atop the plate before handing you the hose. You thank him softly and Baekhyun turns to you as you remove the plastic wrapping around the mouth-tip to insert it at the end of the hose, hearing him ask what you just said.

“Thanks,” you responded, looking up at Baekhyun as the waiter leaves.

“No, say it in Arabic, the way you just did.”

You smile slightly before enunciating, “Shukran.”

“Shukran?” he repeats softly, eyes on your mouth to imitate you and your own gaze drops to his, grinning as his lips form a pout.

“Yes, shukran,” you whisper, unable to stop yourself from pressing a light kiss before pulling back and giving him a teasing smile. “Do you like it when I speak Arabic?”

“I like it when you speak any language,” he replies huskily, leaning forward and pausing when he notices the hose in your hand. “Okay, why can’t I smell it? How mild did you ask it to be?”

“It’s not something you smell that strongly, Baek, it’s not weed,” you laugh at his worry, placing a hand on his knee comfortingly. “Give it a minute. Just relax and just watch me, okay?”

You lean back and raise the hose, wrapping your lips around the brightly-coloured tip and inhaling slowly. Baekhyun watches you carefully with hooded eyes, gaze darting to the base of the vase, watching the liquid bubble slightly as you inhale and remove it from your mouth, a puff of smoke escaping your parted lips.  

Baekhyun is leaning back against the couch, watching you with wide eyes. You raise an eyebrow at him and he asks, “I want to be repulsed by this so bad but why the hell am I turned on watching you do that?”

You laugh, shaking your head as you hold out the hose to him. “Do you want to try it? It’s fine if you don’t—”

He grabs the pipe, cutting you off. Gently, you instruct how to do it and you watch as he hesitates before following your words. You watch as he blows a puff of smoke and give him an impressed look as you cheer, “Hey, you did it! And you didn’t cough!”

“Why is that smooth?” Baekhyun demands like he’s offended as he stares down at the pipe. “And what is that flavour?”

“What do you taste?” You grin, leaning back on the couch.

“… something fresh,” he answers, looking at you in bewilderment. “Like the beach. Almost like mint but it isn’t.”

“It’s called Spring Breeze. Do you feel relaxed?”

“Yes, very, and I hate it.” At your confused expression, he explains, “No, I love how relaxed I feel and I hate how much I love it.”

Beaming widely, you call over the waiter to order dinner as Baekhyun gets more comfortable with the pipe, smoking and puckering his mouth to attempt blowing circles.

“Okay, hon, relax,” you chide, taking it from his hand to slow him down. “It’s not vape, you can’t do all the cool tricks with this.”

“What can you do then?” Baekhyun questions, sitting back to watch you take your turn.

You pause before taking another puff and then lean forward until your face is hovering a few inches away from his. Locking eyes with his, you lift the pipe and inhale deeply, feeling the fresh almost minty-cool mist settle on your tongue and lower it only after a few seconds. Slowly, you exhale from your nose, causing thin tendrils of wispy smoke to drift down your nostrils.

Baekhyun leans forward, inhaling the sweet-smelling smoke as you breathe it out and you feel his fingers on your arms then, pushing you against the couch. You make a muffled noise of surprise upon being pressed against the plush velvet when he closes the distance between your mouths, a smoky mist still around your faces as you taste the coolness of the shisha on his lips, his tongue. An intense sensation of arousal rises deep within you and you can’t help but moan softly into the kiss, melting in his arms like putty.

“Does this get you high, Y/N?” Baekhyun mutters against your skin as he presses kisses into your throat. You whine out a protest to his question when you feel a sting as his teeth bite down slightly on the soft flesh.

“It does give a buzz, though,” you admit breathlessly and Baekhyun pulls back to look at you lazily smile up at him with half-lidded eyes, swollen lips and a reddening neck.

“Does it get you horny?” He asks, voice husky with arousal and you feel his hand hike up the hem of your dress, resting on your thigh.

“From past experiences, no,” you answer honestly, raising your finger to trace the defined cupid’s bow of his lips. Baekhyun’s eyes dilate slightly at your touch and you whisper, “Pretty sure that’s not the shisha and just my red lipstick doing things to you again, Baek.”

He doesn’t respond as he grabs your raised hand by the wrist, lowering it and bringing his own fingers to your mouth. You hear his breath audibly catch as your lips part almost with a mind of their own to allow his fingers slip inside easily.

Choking slightly from the way you’re sitting back, Baekhyun’s other hand comes around your neck to tilt your head up enough and he pushes his two slender digits in almost all the way to his knuckles.

“Yeah, it’s the lipstick,” Baekhyun agrees as you suck lazily, rolling the tip of your tongue on the underside of his fingers and he groans at the sensation. His other hand quickly dives in between your pressed knees, roughly parting them and you gasp aloud, arching up from the couch when you feel his hand dive in between your thighs. His eyes meet yours with disbelief as his knuckles press against your clothed core, asking, “Why’d you wear underwear?”

You narrow your eyes at him, wrapping your hand around his to yank his fingers out of your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting his fingers as you reply, “Because I dressed for dinner and not sex.” You straighten on the couch and tug down your dress, much to Baekhyun's dismay, continuing, “Also, this country is kind of strict about its rules against PDA so you might want to—Baek, the waiter's coming, get your hand off my ass.”

You elbow him on his side, glaring as you shove him back when the waiter walks to your table. You grab the shisha's pipe that had been temporarily forgotten on the carpeted floor and grab a tissue to busy yourself while wiping the mouth-tip, unable to meet the waiter’s eye—especially since you noticed his expression as he entered the lounge that was a dead giveaway that he definitely knew what the two of you were doing even though you stopped right as he walked in.

Your messy hair and flushed face most certainly did not help.

He placed the meat platter down along with a plate of the traditional Arabic bread and the condiments.

Exhaling the puff you just took, you turn to him to explain the delicious meal you had laid out in front of you but he was pouting, eyes narrowed as he sighs loudly.

“I still can’t believe you wore your panties,” he stated with annoyance.

“I have literally only skipped wearing it that one time at the Milan club, Baek!” You exclaim with a laugh at his childish pout. “Shut up and listen to me about the meal now.”

You smiled as you saw Baekhyun immediately grab the pink-coloured fizzy drink in the tall glass, sucking on the straw and humming in content at the sweet liquid.

“It’s strawberry mint mojito,” you explain, taking it from him to sip a bit. “It complements the shisha flavour.”

True to the consistent Baekhyun that you knew, if there was one thing that could have him distracted enough to not be groping you—it was food.

There weren't many moments in your life that you remembered or cherished closely in a way that they’re still crystal clear when you recall them again years later.

In fact, you could count them on your hands.

The adrenalin rush you had at the Incheon airport, heart pounding louder in your ears than the intercom announcements about boarding your flight to Paris as you decided to run, once and for all.

The sky as you stepped out of Roissy Airport and looked around Paris for the first time with hardly any money in your pockets but a luggage of scrapbooks filled with designs.

The exact time, location and outfit you were wearing when you got a call from Sylvie’s assistant as she told you that they’d received your portfolio and Madame Sylvie herself was interested to have you as her apprentice.

Seoyeon’s elated expression as she sat beside you when you handed over the signed contract to the Chamber of Commerce in Paris for officially opening your first place of business.

The way you’d practically collapsed as you received an invitation to present your work at your first Paris Fashion Week.

Baekhyun’s gaze at the power room as he stared at you in the dark like he was seeing you for the first time, a look in his eyes that to this day you couldn't describe—the one that changed everything, the gaze that lead to your undoing.

The way you’d burst into happy tears for the first time in your life when Baekhyun had walked back into your hotel room at Paris while you were crying, the way he’d kissed you and you’d felt like you had the sun in your arms.

The way Baekhyun had felt, the way he’d sounded against your chest as he hugged you on the floor of his dorm room while misquoting Frozen after almost two hellish months apart.

And now, as you laughed at Baekhyun's stories of the boys, you stared at him with a heart fuller than your stomach, despite all the kebabs and koftas you’d just had.

This. This right here would go on to be another memory that you’d remember as clear as ever—the sweet smell of the shisha hanging over the two of you, the soft Arabic music that Zahid had left playing in the background, Baekhyun’s sparkling eyes that were prettier than any skyline, his warm lingering touches dancing across your skin, his loud boisterous laugh that you could hear echo heartily around you without fearing anyone else hearing or seeing because you’d been wise enough to finally create a private paradise in a big world that always seemed too small for both of you.

Hours after you’d cleared all the plates on the table and were laughing at his story about Jongin being clumsy again, you both fell into a comfortable silence and your eyes met over the table.

And you knew. So did Baekhyun although you were sure he’d blame the shisha for its ‘buzz’ later.

“Hey,” he said, taking your hand that was atop the table. He stares deeply at you without saying a word and you smile.

“I know,” you reply with a nod, your voice soft. “Me too.”

Baekhyun’s eyes became crescent moons from how hard he grinned at you and you tighten your grip around his fingers, feeling him squeeze back.

My sunshine, mine.

[hes-writer]

One Of My Own (3)

Summary: Harry falls out of love

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word Count: 6.5k

Before you read: so the whole pt3 won’t fit in this one post. i’ll be posting the other part tmr, but for now, please enjoy this [badly] written piece. i think i just got too in my head with trying to keep up to standards so i don’t think its the best writing i’ve done.  ENJOY! (ps this is unedited)

It had been an excruciatingly agonizing past few months for Y/N. All of her assumptions had been proven true, and nothing hurts more than hoping and praying for days that what you presumed isn’t true, but life sometimes likes to take you by surprise hitting you square in the face. It obviously took a toll on her; not only emotionally, but also mentally and physically.

Her mind was an on-going cycle of paranoia and she couldn’t stop her heart from beating so hard every time someone she knew made a promise to her. Maybe Y/N had trust issues—it was a probable outcome—and it made her a little more hesitant when meeting new people, made her brain hurt from ruminating if what they intended with her was what they really showed.

Physiologically, it was as if her heartstrings had been stretched, pulled to their extent and it had broken—she felt like she could really die from a broken heart. A vast hole in her chest sucked in gallons of energy from her; she was tired. Y/N was exhausted of being used and abused over and over again–she couldn’t handle another blow, especially after Harry made the ultimate heartbreaking move by switching her for Daniella. There was a void in her that couldn’t be filled by anything, regardless of how much she tried. It seemed that only Harry and his love had the power to do that. Y/N knew that she shouldn’t even *consider giving Harry another chance with her, but she was extremely desperate to be fixed: to be normal again and most importantly, to not feel alone.

It was pathetic, really. Some people wouldn’t consider giving their ex a second chance, but here was Y/N daydreaming about what they could be doing now instead of hating his guts. She dozes off in the distance more frequently, chin in her hand while she stared at the empty space in front of her during lecture. In her mind, there was a screen that played happy times of her and Harry. Both of their faces glowing from the wide grins set on their faces. Her eyes were glowing and she could imagine that Harry’s green ones were filled with adoration meant for her and her only. It was a torturous move to let herself envision the good moments when in reality, Y/N looked and felt like the complete opposite of what she wanted to be.

Y/N was isolated from the world. It was a gradual process; she didn’t even notice how detached she became until her phone lit up in messages from her friends asking her if she could ‘hang out’ or some concerned emails about her health and well-being. That was the moment when Y/N discerned that she wasn’t the same person that she used to be with Harry. She could feel her whole being slipping into the abyss she once stood in before meeting him, and she didn’t know what to do. Would it be fair for her to live a fake, plastic life pretending to be happy with Harry when all she wanted to do was to yell at him and punch his chest to somehow project the pain she was feeling physically? Or would she rather live a life quarantined from the world even when she was surrounded by people who cared for her? (Did they really?)

As stereotypical as it sounded, it was as if everyone but Y/N was living life to the fullest. Even though some were breaking at the seems, they still held it together and plastered a fake smile whereas Y/N could feel her brows start to crease when a person began to tap her shoulder. Conversations were disappearing from her domain, and with that came interaction with people. Like she said, Y/N wasn’t the same because of him.

The version of herself that she personified when Harry brought out the ‘best’ in her had vanished into the wild; lost and hard to find. That person will never come back because things can never be the same no matter how much she wished for it—no matter how hard he prayed for it if he did. Sometimes Y/N wondered if Harry had changed–obviously, he did, otherwise, they would still be together right now– if he still slept on the right side of the bed. If he still pushed away his Brussel sprouts–surprisingly– because he was known as a health nut. Y/N questioned if he acted the same with Daniela.

It hurt to think about it, honestly. Although Y/N could reminisce the sweet moments, it soon becomes overshadowed by the image of Harry and her sister. She wondered if he held Daniela tightly to his chest at night because he was having a nightmare. He woke up in a sweat a handful of times, sitting up on the bed with his shirt drenched in sweat. His eyes were wild but glossy with incoming tears and he would look at Y/N staring at him with the utmost worry in her eyes. He would hug her, then, cradle her tight in his strong arms and whispered how much he was afraid to lose her. She wondered if it was the same with Daniela.

—–

It had been six months. Ironically, Y/N and Harry were together for six months, and in the exact same time, they broke up six months ago. They would’ve been celebrating their one year anniversary. Upon seeing the date that day, Y/N couldn’t help but let it affect her– as much as it shouldn’t have— because it reminded her of a ‘what if’. What if she nipped the growing distance between them right at the bud? What if she became more courageous and let herself run the thoughts running through her head? What would’ve happened if she sat the both of them down and confronted them about how she felt? Things surely would’ve been different and Y/N sometimes wished for a second chance at it.

Six months had passed since Y/N’s parents had seen their daughter. Their divorce had been finalized and they were officially separated. It was a mutual decision; their feelings weren’t the same and they were aware of it. It was best to split before things could escalate and they’d only hurt each other. They remained friends, however, because they had a family after all and they still needed to keep communication with each other regarding their children. Y/N’s parents reminded her of her and Harry’s relationship; they walked away before it got worse, except it wasn’t mutual and it definitely got worse way before they split. And it was only Harry who tainted the relationship with infidelity–emotional cheating was what they called it.

Parental concern was heavy in the household and Marga (Y/N’s mom) had contacted Robert (Y/N’s dad) because she was worried about their daughter. It had been a while since she reached out to them. There was no news heard from her and any parent would freak just by the thought of it. Marga contacted her daughter when Y/N was out of class; she had Y/N’s schedule, but she never answered. It rang sometimes, but recently it was always directed to voicemail, almost as if she didn’t want anybody reaching her. Robert, on the other hand, had suspicions as to why Y/N was acting this way. He wasn’t certain, but his hunch had been so strong that he couldn’t let but let Daniela and Harry’s name slip up

***

“Do you remember that boy, Harry?” Robert asked, sitting at the other end of the dining table from his ex-wife.

“Dani’s boyfriend?” Robert couldn’t help but shake his head.

“No, he came with Y/N for Christmas remember?”

“Do you think he’s got something to do with it?” Marga gasped out, hands flying to cover her opened mouth. She was already thinking the worst of Harry despite knowing him fairly well as Daniela’s boyfriend.

On the other side of the wall, Carlos sharpened his hearing to catch all the words his parents were saying. He was the only person whom Y/N kept in contact with the family. She had explained to what had happened in a phone call one night. Carlos answered the house phone when it rang urgently when he got home from school and heard his sisters’ broken voice through the speaker. He was alarmed– as any sibling would be– Y/N sounded absolutely distraught and she couldn’t stop the sobs sputtering out of her mouth, just like the words of the events flowed out as well.

Carlos felt anger and confusion. He knew that his other sister (Daniela) was sinister in a sense. She got what she wanted because she shoved everyone out of the way. She did it to him and she did it the most with Y/N. Carlos was the one that held her older sister in her arms when Daniela emerged victorious *again from capturing something that was Y/N’s first. He really shouldn’t be surprised by the news that Harry had gone for Dani.

Y/N and Carlos were probably the closest duo in their family of five and he had listened to Y/N gush about Harry multiple times. They texted each other like they were the best of friends and he sent a puking emoticon every time Y/N swooned over something Harry did; all joking of course. Carlos felt like he knows Harry, even though they haven’t met– the first being Christmas holidays when his favorite sister spent most of her time wallowing in her childhood bedroom. He knew that Harry was good to Y/N because she said so and he honestly hadn’t seen Y/N have as much fun as she did when she was with him. But seeing the way he acted with Dani during the holidays– he should’ve known that Dani was capable of hurting Y/N to the point where it was horrifying.

Carlos thought that it was impossible to hate somebody, much less your own flesh and blood but he was pretty close to detesting Daniela because of her actions. She was–in his own words– an evil step-sister that cared for nobody else but herself. In summary, hearing his parents formulate a theory about Y/N’s disappearance was hard because all he wanted to do was burst out of his hiding spot and yell out the reason why she was being like this.

It’s your other daughter’s fault, Carlos thought and he wasn’t one bit ashamed to reveal that he doesn’t consider Dani a sister anymore. And he knows that once their parents find out, they would put her through hell before accepting Dani again. They were fair models and they reprimanded Daniela back when she was in high school; it would be a repeat.

——

To say that Y/N was disconnected was an understatement. She was so cut off from everybody that she didn’t even know that Daniela had started studying in the same university as her. And God, did it take her by surprise when she saw her sisters’ head of hair, leaning against a guy while she bent over laughing. The flirtatious look in her eyes was strong enough that Y/N could see it from where he hid behind a pole.

What is she doing here? Y/N thought. Dani should’ve been out of the country by now, continuing her travels. But apparently not because she was standing right there and oh.

Harry walked up the stone path towards Dani, books in hand while he greeted her with a smile. He should’ve finished his History lecture by now. Before, Y/N would wait for him under the big oak tree beside the History building and they would lean their backs against it while they relaxed. Now, Y/N watched as Daniela stood under said tree while Harry pulled out a blanket from his bag to lay on the ground for them to sit on.

———-

It wasn’t always like this. Harry and Daniela were seated under the oak tree beside the History building and Y/N remembered how they would lean their backs against it while they relaxed. Now, Y/N watched as Daniela stood under said tree while Harry pulled out a blanket reminded that this was Y/N’s tree. This was the spot where she frequented in and where he found himself wandering too in hopes to see the beautiful girl again. And that woman became his girlfriend weeks later.

Harry shook his head in distress when he found himself reaching far back in his memories to play Y/N’s smiling face at him. Also, Daniela’s voice was steadily raising against his ear because apparently she’d been talking to him for a few minutes now and he hadn’t responded in a timely manner.

That was one of the things that rubbed Harry the wrong way. No matter what, Dani always found a way to start a shouting match between the two of them. He didn’t know if she thrived off of their fights (because they make up in the best ways) or if she just genuinely enjoyed pissing Harry off. Harry was a bit tired of its redundancy–the fights. It was all so unnecessary and sought after the tiniest things and he couldn’t handle it. He’d taken it upon himself to subtract himself from the room because his anger was about to reach a new level over Dani yelling at him for not telling her that she had a mustard stain on the side of her lip. He honestly didn’t even see the stain, but she had reprimanded him for ‘wanting to embarrass [her] in front of everybody.’

He knew that he shouldn’t but he can’t help but compare Dani to Y/N; a reminder of what he did before he decided to leave the latter. Comparing them was sort of like second nature to him. They were sisters, it was kind of hard not to pick on Dani’s exceptional talents where Y/N’s lacked, and how Y/N was much kinder than Dani. Y/N wouldn’t have shouted at him and probably would’ve laughed it off with him.

There he goes again, thinking about his ex like she was the best thing that ever happened to him–maybe she was though and he just didn’t see it yet. But he was bending backward and forwards weighing out the pros and cons of each relationship as if he still had a chance with Y/N. He was such a fool to let her down like that.

There was no verbal evidence that they broke up, but they both knew they did. The kiss they shared was the last one they’ll ever have with each other. With that single touch of their lips, an over-pouring load of emotions was drained from the thickest parts of their veins and coursed through each others’ in exchange to remember each other by. He was such a fool to hurt somebody the way that he did to Y/N and Harry was slowly coming to the realization that Y/N was the better Y/L/N.

———–

“Do you feel guilty sometimes?” Harry questioned in a ghostly voice. His eyes piercing a hole in the television screen while his mind became fuzzy.

Daniela looked up to his face from her position on Harry’s chest.

“Guilty? About what?”

“About us,”

“Why would I be guilty about us?” She asked, sitting up on the couch to look at him clearly. The brown blanket falls on the floor.

Harry gulped seeing his girlfriend’s stern eyes staring at him.

“I-it’s just,” He began, “What we did to Y/N was pretty shitty,”

Dani pursed her lips in acknowledgment.  “Don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, Harry. She’s probably used to it,” Dani answered, wanting the conversation to end right then and there.

“But don’t you think we should check in on her or something?” Harry tried to explain. “It’s been a while and I think it’s time we all talk,”

“What are you saying? You want to see her? Or maybe you want to get back together with her?” Dani continuously raised her voice at him. She was throwing accusations and jumping into conclusions with a far reach. “You’re going to leave me for her, aren’t you?

Harry gasped at her last statement, immediately shaking his head ‘no’ that made him dizzy. His hands shoot up from their resting position on his lap to grasp Dani’s flailing arms, trying to calm her down.

“No, of course not. I just thought it would be nice and all,”

“I can’t believe this,” Dani stands up, slightly pacing against the rug of her living room.

Harry copied her actions, his full height causing her to be intimidated, but she didn’t show it.

“What?”

And for a moment, Daniela almost spilled everything she worked hard for. “After everything, you still want to be with her?”

“I didn’t say that,” He was getting frustrated by the way she was acting and he couldn’t put his finger on it. “I told you, I feel guilty,”

“Guilty? You’re feeling guilty for Y/N?” She exasperated. “For that bitch?”

He furrowed his brows from the language. He didn’t expect Dani to use it, nor did he have a clue as to why she would describe Y/N as such.

“Why would you call her that?”

Fear flashed in Dani’s eyes and she had to come up with something believable before he found out the truth.

“Y/N, … she was very mean to me when we were younger,” Dani sat down on the couch. Harry urged her on to continue, assuming that this was a hard thing for Dani to talk about but really she was just stalling to get her story straight. “She got everything she wanted,”

“I really don’t see why you woul–”

“No! She got everything. She stole my friends, my boyfriends. She got everybody’s attention and I know she had you first but you chose me in the end,” Dani cuts him off. “Y/N’s not even here but she’s taking you away from me,”

Harry was confused. He could never imagine Y/N being as cruel as Dani had described her to be. After their lengthy relationship, all he saw of her was a genuine lady that couldn’t even hurt a fly. I guess I really didn’t know her, Harry thought.

“She really did that?”

Dani nodded, wiping away a fake stray tear. “I don’t know what I did to her and I asked her to stop but she still did it,”

“I don’t want to lose you too, Har” He pressed a kiss on the top of her head, leaning in for a hug that she voluntarily engulfed herself in. “I love you,”

“I love you too.”

It was a white lie from Daniela. She didn’t want to lose Harry, but it wasn’t because she loved him. Hell, no. After everything lengths and measure she went through just to take him away from Y/N, you would think that it was the action of someone in love. Not Dani, her actions had a completely different meaning and that was to hurt Y/N as much as she can.

Being older meant that Dani always got shit blamed for things she didn’t do and she’s had enough of it. When she came home from school with a ‘C-’ printed test paper in hand, her head was hung in shame. Her parents scolded her like no tomorrow and she could still hear their voices echoing in the back of her head. Then, not minutes later did Y/N enter the room with the same mark printed on her paper and she got nothing but praised for how much she ‘did her best’ and that they were proud of her.

Daniela was enraged, to say the least. Everything she did wrong, Y/N got a free pass if she did the same thing and it wasn’t fair. Y/N had the nerve to not see what was going on and that made Dani really angry. So, she studied twice as hard to get better marks but she didn’t improve the way she’d like. Dani was getting impatient because Y/N was acquiring A’s left and right, and Dani didn’t know how many celebration dinners she could handle of her parents telling her to ‘be more like Y/N’.

Her last result was to cheat; she got better marks then. At first, she felt guilty, but there was something exhilarating in getting caught but she thought that *that feeling wouldn’t compare to when she sees her parents’ face when she hands them the paper. Except, they barely gave her a second glance, as if they didn’t care. It was heartbreaking for Dani. Especially when on that day, her parents proposed to eat dinner at a restaurant and she thought that it was a surprise celebration for her, but it turned out to be Y/N’s night. Again.

Maybe it was immature for her to act the way she did, but nothing could ever erase the hurt she felt. In Dani’s mind, Y/N deserved everything that she did to her. Stealing her boyfriends? Sure, it probably hurt, but it wasn’t the same as seeing their own parents’ eyes look at Y/N as if she was some saint when she corrected her mistakes when Y/N did the exact same thing.

———

Y/N was a ghost, not only in a sense that she didn’t really speak to anyone but also as if everybody could see right through her. She guessed that her face permanently withheld a somber expression because people would give her sympathetic looks when she walked down the large hallway. One professor even pulled her aside to speak to her about her dropping grades, asking if there was anything going on at home that could’ve triggered this change.

Everybody was treating her like she was fragile and she was absolutely sick of it. It was a reach, but it reminded her of the way Harry treated her when they were still together. He was the most gentle person towards her and her melted every time his voice caressed her ears.

“Hello, want to be partners?” A questioned interrupted Y/N from her thoughts.

“Uh, for what?”

The boy looked at her curiously as if he was trying to see if she was being serious or not. “Because the prof said to find a partner and I noticed that you didn’t have one so,”

Y/N blinked at him when he trailed off, heading leaning to behind his body to see that, indeed, the monitor read, “Find a partner”

“Oh, sure” She replied, ducking down to pull out a notebook which she should’ve taken out ages ago. Y/N could still see the boy’s legs, unmoving in front of her. “You can sit, you know.”

“Of course, I’m Niall by the way,”  He introduced himself and Y/N detects a hint of an accent.

“Y/N,” It was a simple response, and maybe she was a bit rude but she really couldn’t be bothered to acquaint with somebody new.

Niall was observant beside her. From her peripherals, he could see him intently listening to the instructions being given and she really should be doing the same but Y/N can’t help but observe his features. A twinge occurred inside her chest and she was briefly reminded of when her eyes looked at Harry’s face while he was still asleep. Y/N shook her head and faced the front completely.

“So what topic do you want to do?”

“Maybe defense mechanisms? That sounds interesting.”

“Sure!” Niall exclaimed, scribbling the topic down on his own notebook. The scrawls of pen on paper echoing against Y/N’s ears.

The professor dismissed the class before another word could be spoken between the two of them. Y/N gathers all of her belongings as quickly as she could, wanting to flop on her bed instead of being surrounded by people.

She just made it out of the door and into the hallway when she heard Niall yell her name. From the distance, Harry whipped his head towards the noise and his eyes search for Y/N.

“Y/N, Y/N, wait!” Niall was hopping on his toes, trying to catch up to her but she already paused her movements. She slightly smiled at his actions, having not done so in a long time.

Harry watched from meters away, seeing Y/N and Niall talk to each other. A pain in his chest knocked his breath out when he saw Y/N handing her phone to Niall.

“Hey! Gosh you’re quick,” Niall panted in front of her. “Can I get your number? Need ‘ta know when to work on this assignment,”

Y/N nodded but not before assessing him suspiciously; that was exactly what Harry said to her when he asked for her number.  She had to reprimand herself for thinking about him again, handing her phone to Niall.

She watched as his thumbs tapped against the letters on the keyboard.

“Wait, take a picture of me for my photo,” Niall hands her back her phone, starting to pose while Y/N comprehends the situation. “It’s hard to remember me, got one of those faces,”

Y/N chuckled lightly at his joke, but she could also detect a serious undertone. The screen captures Niall’s smiling face and she shows it to him for approval.

“Nice, your turn,” Y/N slapped a smile on her face, and she felt like it was a genuine one at that.

“I’ll see you around, Ni”

“Ni? We’re on a nickname basis now, eh?” He said, nudging her side with his shoulder. Y/N giggles before bidding a final goodbye.

Both men watch Y/N walk away. Niall’s eyes linger on her for a few more seconds, feeling the energy around him deteriorate with Y/N’s presence. He’s been noticing her a lot more often these days; he could see that she was broken inside and even letting out a smile probably felt like carrying a ball and chain on her back. And Niall didn’t want to be some sort of hero that changed her, he was just wanted to see her smile once in a while.

On the other hand, Harry watched his former love exit the building doors. Maybe it was the distance between them, but Y/N looked a lot smaller than he remembered; as if she lost an abundance weight. His brain was trying to figure out if that was really Y/N because it didn’t look like Y/N that he didn’t notice Niall approaching him.

“Hey Harry, what are you doing here?” Niall greeted him with a hug. “You don’t have class in this area,”

“Just waiting for Dani,” Harry explained.

“Ahh thought you got lost again, Styles,”

“Who were you talking to earlier?” Harry asked even though he knew that it was Y/N. He just needed a confirmation.

“That was Y/N, pretty girl, right?” To which Harry was left befuddled. “Say, weren’t you dating a Y/N a while back?”

Harry and Y/N’s relationship was pretty lowkey.

“Yeah, actually” Niall proceeded to ask him what happened between them. “Turn out she wasn’t who I thought she was,”

“What do you mean?”

“She just did some pretty shitty stuff to her sister,”

“The heck? That’s fucked up man, glad you broke it off,”

Harry almost agreed.

—–

Y/N got off the train, her footsteps thudding against the wooden platform. Her bags were beside her and she was reminded of the last time she stepped foot in this place. She swiftly hailed a cab to shield herself from the cold.

Her parents’ house comes into view through the cab window. There was a car in the driveway and she assumed that it was her dad’s since he was living nearby. Her footsteps were slow, reminiscing every moment that played out in front porch; how Harry kissed her with passion before entering the house to entertain Daniela.

Y/N rang the doorbell, hearing thuds from inside the house with the excited yelling of ‘I’ll get it’ from Carlos, probably.

The door swung open before Carlos came into view.

“Y/N! I missed you,” He said, engulfing her into a hug that made her drop her bags on the floor. The comforting feel of her brother’s arms made her feel loved, and the scent of her mom’s cooking wafted to her nose.

When Y/N opened her eyes, she could see her parents approaching them, but not before ushering them inside to prevent frigid air from entering the house. Hugs and exchanges fluttered in the atmosphere, catching up to what each party missed.

“Let’s get you settled in before Harry and Dani come,” Her mom said, picking up one of her bags. That statement made Y/N freeze on the ‘welcome’ mat by the front door.

“Harry’s coming?” She questioned, slowly turning around to face her family as if she was a deer in front of the headlights.

Her parents shared a look before nodding.

“Why’s he coming?” Carlos sneered from beside Y/N, his eyes turning into slits at the thought of *Harry.

“What’s wrong with that? He’s your sister’s boyfriend,” Their mom answered back.

“N-nothing’s wrong! Just surprised is all,” Y/N answered making her way to the stairs.

————-

The second doorbell of the day had rung and being closest to the front door, Y/N was given the task to open it. She was dressed in matching pajamas and she wondered what Harry would think of her outfit. From the kitchen, she could hear her mother ask who was at the door.

Y/N grasped the doorknob tightly, preparing to boast the fakest smile in the world. “Hey guys,” She said, but she faltered when her eyes caught sight of Dani and Harry’s latched hands.

“Dani! Harry! I’m so glad you could come,” To her relief, her dad greets the couple inside.

Y/N takes small footsteps backward, hoping that her absence won’t be noticed.

———————

It was little way before dinner time when Y/N’s parents decided that the cat has to be pulled out of the bad. Y/N had been stuck in her room for the remainder of the day while the rest of them had caught with each others’ lives and bonded for the first time in a while. It was hard not to notice Y/N’s absence especially when she was usually the life of the party.

The moment Marga asked the question, “What’s going on with Y/N”, everybody in the room inhaled a collective breath as if this topic was expected to be brought up sooner or later.

“What do you mean?” Dani asked in a sickly sweet voice, her index finger was twirling a strand of Harry’s curls.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how much weight she lost,” Robert agreed. ”She looks sick.”

It was true. Y/N hadn’t been eating much since the breakup. It’s not like she purposefully decided to stop eating altogether, she just didn’t have much of the appetite to devour the needed daily intake to keep her looking healthy. Thus, she lost weight without even noticing it, but others’ certainly did. Y/N didn’t even feel sick or anything, not much else actually makes her want to do stuff anymore. Her face was pale as if she hadn’t been outside in months and her eyes have sunken into her cheeks.  She was only existing now.

“I think she looks great, even better actually,” Dani murmured. “What? I’m serious, about time she lost some of that weight,”

“Please take this seriously, this is your sister we’re talking about,”

“Aren’t we always talking about her,” Dani huffed, rolling her eyes and a gasp could be heard throughout the room. Harry tries to shush, to which she shrugged the hand off of her shoulder.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure she’ll come to us if she needs help,” Harry answered, biting his lip to prevent him from saying anything more. Dani nodded in agreement with him, absolutely done with this talk.

“That’s a good idea. I guess you’re right, Harry,”

"I can’t believe you’re still letting him in this house after what he–they did to Y/N last time," Carlos scoffed, sitting up more comfortably on the couch cushions, “Harry left Y/N for Daniella and they don’t even feel guilty about it! She’s upstairs grieving right now while you guys don’t even care,”

Their parents are rendered speechless, instructing Carlos to check in on Y/N while they talk to Harry and Daniela.  “Is it true? Harry nods. “Did you really have to do this again, Daniela?”

“Do what?” She responded Harry was confused once again.

”You knew Harry and Y/N were together but you stole him away from her like you did before,“ Marga shook her head at her daughter, her heartbreaking even more when she thought of the future of her family.

“She didn’t say anything! I thought she was fine with it,” Daniel defended herself, putting her hand up and sitting. Harry was shocked by the information.

“How could anyone be okay with that? And you, what kind of sick person are you?” Harry looked up to Robert, feeling like a small child being scolded.

“W-what do you mean like she did before?” He couldn’t have prepared himself for what was to come next.

Marga sighed, head shifting from Harry to her daughter, “Every guy Y/N’s been with, Dani always somehow steals them away from her,” Harry gulped at the extent of his actions. “We’ve talked about it before because I was sick of seeing my other daughter cry herself to sleep for a guy that left her,”

"Oh boohoo, it’s not my fault they want me more than her,” Dani picks on a manicured finger. Harry was appalled by her snide comment and he finds himself comparing the two sisters once again. Y/N would never say anything like that and this time for sure, there were no doubts in his head.

“She never said anything but it hurt her so much that she didn’t want to introduce anybody to you,” Robert admitted in a somber tone. "She was so scared that you’ll find a way to take it away from her– her happiness. We didn’t even know about Harry and now we know why,”

Everything was silent, even Harry’s thoughts stopped their hustling and bustling and he swore his heart could burst with guilt.

“Are you saying it’s my fault?“

“Yes, she’s your sister. You shouldn’t hurt her like this,” Harry quipped.

Dani gasped incredulously,  “You’re taking her side now? God, why can’t she just stick up for herself for once!”

At this moment, Harry disconnected himself from the conversation. He was drifted off to the beginning of he and Y/N’s relationship; why Y/N never introduced Dani to him, nor did she speak about her. He was made aware of why she was so closed off from everyone when they first met and why it took a long time for them to get together– all because she was afraid and insecure of her sister.

And really, he can’t even blame Y/N for feeling this way. It must be so traumatic knowing that everything was done on purpose. Every horrendous action was done in the sole mission of hurting her. Harry felt bad, so bad that he wanted nothing more but to take her into his arms and never let her go. He would tell her that she was special and whisper sweet things in her ear– but he knew that she would never let her.

“We never raised you to be like this. You were aware of your actions but you still went through with them.” Marga spoke, “Are you that selfish?”

“So what if I am?” Dani retorted, biting back from her mom’s harsh words.

“Get out,” Robert said. Marga touched his shoulder, silently asking him to calm down and rethink his thoughts.

“Are you serious?“ and Harry himself was mute throughout.

“Family doesn’t hurt each other on purpose but you’ve done the worst to your own sister.” Her dad explained, “For now, I’m asking you to please leave until you’re ready to apologize to her,”

“You’re really pulling that one out? Then why did you and mom get a divorce, is it because you don’t love her anymore?” Dani aggravated. “Or you don’t feel the same way about him?”

Y/N silently tiptoes down the stairs with Carlos right behind her, hearing Daniela utter, “You guys act like you’re saints when you’re not!”

“I think that’s enough,” Y/N interrupted. Dani scoffed, “Look who it is, are you here to kiss their ass again?”

“I’m not and I never did,”

“That’s bullshit. And you,” She pointed at their parents, ”You really thought you were doing something, huh? Well, guess what, you guys really fucking suck and mom, did you know that your ex-husband here as a new family?”

Y/N warned Daniela again. “What? Don’t like hearing that dad has a new princess?”

“I said that’s enough,” Y/N balled her hands into fists, keeping them busy for the meanwhile.

“Can’t accept that you’ll always be the second choice? To dad and to sweet little, Harry?” Dani teased her in a mocking tone, lightly tapping her fingers on Harry’s arm as if she was taunting her. “How does it feel to know that he left you for me?”

“Okay, that’s it,” Y/N walked up to Dani, hand raising in the air to gain momentum for the hit that was about to come. Dani glanced up from looking at Harry’s face to be met with Y/N’s palm striking her square on the cheek. The sound of skin to skin reverberating in the otherwise silent room.

Dani gasped, “Mom! Dad! Harry, say something. She just slapped me,”

Harry speaks up, “I think you should leave,”

“I can’t believe you,” Dani rasped out, “You’re weak, Harry”

“At least I don’t hurt my own family,”

“That may be, but I’ll get over it,” She said while collecting her stuff. It was easier since all her luggage was left by the front door, unpacked. “Y/N here, however, probably won’t even forgive you for cheating,”

She tapped on Y/N’s cheeks, giving a mocking a smile before waving goodbye to her parents. Dani;’s figure disappears from view and they could faintly hear her put her shoes on. The door creaks open and slams in a matter of seconds.

Y/N lets out a deep exhale, eyes glancing up at her family and Harry. She pursed her lips, nodding at the events before heading upstairs once again. “Call me when dinner’s ready,”

A pregnant pause took place, both Marga and Robert heading to the kitchen to clear their thoughts and continue preparing and cooking the meal for tonight. It was only Harry and Carlos in the living room.

“Harry, who do you love?”

It caught him off-guard but one thing was for sure. He didn’t hesitate to let her name escape his lips.

“I love Y/N,”

————��

ugh,, please give me feedback (even if it’s about how bad this is)

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[ffxiv-ariavitali]

micro story writing prompts #13: ‘too loud’ and #15: ‘trembling hands’ 

or personal writing prompt, ‘burning’ [inspired by Violet Evergarden]

AO3 ver.

-

The pumping within her veins was setting fire to her entire body. She felt the burns too keenly, both the ones that marred her body moons ago as well as the ones imprinted into her soul. It was too much, far too much, for a single individual to handle and yet the gods above decided that this was to be her fate.

Aria chuckled at the prospect of such, laughed at the idea that the cruel machinations of fate decided that she were to undergo a series of pain and torture. The voices of those that she has slain echoed from the deepest part of her heart, from the side of her that she - at first - wished never to see surface again.

The smiles of her friends, blood seeping from the corner of their lips. The anger of the fallen that she had slain as she did what she must.

The hopeful eyes of their loved ones, wondering when the victims would ever return.

It was loud, much too loud, within her head. The last wishes, the curses, the sight, sound and smell of death accompanying her blade. Each added to the throne of bones lying in her wake along a liquid red carpet of the blood offering they have given - whether they were aware of it or not.

How could she end this? How could she make this go away? When will the burning stop?

A cool breeze wrapped around her in a protective bubble, soothing the self-inflicted, imaginary pain as if it was there. The Hyuran woman peered up, without full awareness her cheeks were stricken with tears, and saw the ghost of two figures at her side.

Of the two figures she created, made manifest of her heart.

Fray encircled his arms from behind her, his hands resting atop of hers from where she gripped the handle of her claymore. The trembling she wasn’t aware existed dissipated upon realization, upon the comfort of a kindred spirit that she had forgotten was always looking out for her.

“‘Tis alright,” he said, a rough voice echoing in her mind in a gentle whisper. “Just a little longer. We are with you.”*

Myste, as small as he was, stood in front of Aria with arms outstretched, as if using himself as a shield to protect her. The same protective bubble she had initially felt glowed softly in patterns akin to the starry skies of the heavens above. The light in the dark, the beacons of hope in the blackest night.

“You remember, don’t you?” he asked of her, peering over his shoulder to present her with a kind smile. “Think of us in your darkest hour. We love you. Forever will we love you.”

Tears further spilled from the woman’s amethyst eyes and she felt her body ready to rack with sobs.

Nonetheless, this wasn’t the time. The threat of war loomed before her, here on the front lines of Ghimlyt Dark, and her fellow Scions were left behind, caught unconscious by whatever affliction has banished them to a land of dreams - if that’s what’s even keeping them from returning.

A magitek colossus appeared before the woman and swiped her aside, sending her flying back half a dozen yalms. While the pain was minimized thanks to the blessings given to her by those she holds dear to her heart, it didn’t stop her from coughing up splotches of blood onto the ground.

In the distance, there was a cry, one from a voice she had grown accustomed to hearing in a land of ice and snow. Simply hearing it growing closer and closer fueled the fire within, reignited by the reminder given to her by the deepest part of her soul.

“Aria!” the lord commander shouts. “Aria, are you alright-!”

Before she answered, the Hyuran woman turned with her claymore gripped tightly in her hands and Plunged towards the colossus that had knocked her away. Rejuvenated with energy and using the pain mitigated from her by the memories of those deep within, Aria positioned her body to take down the magitek armory with a Bloodspiller, finishing it off with an Edge of Darkness for good measure. The moment that it crashed to the ground was the moment that Aymeric had finally reached the woman’s side.

“By the Fury!” he exclaimed, his ice blue eyes wild with worry. “Fall back, we will hold the line.”

Aria’s lips curl to a grin — up to the challenge and not without a tinge of madness as one of greatness is wont to have.

“Nay, Aym, I would fight for a bit longer,” she answered in kind.

Aymeric’s eyes widened. “But, Ia, you are injured!”

“And I would fain accept a chirurgeon’s ministrations after this last push!” she responded. The Warrior of Light then turned towards the advancing battalion led by the lord commander, recognizing symbols marking different houses of the Pillars — including her own.

(Truly, the use of a crimson lily outlined in gold by House Lukos could not have been any more ironic for her. A Warrior that has seen and shed rivers of blood borne into a house specializing in conjury and the healing trade, representing the purity and sanctity one's faith in blessed Halone should have, was enough to make the woman feel as if she deserved not her birthright.

Moreover, their blatant renouncement of her father, a lowborn with an unknown name nor a family of his own, was enough to anger her so much that she refused in-depth dealings with them, leaving it to her elder brother.

Not that he would have it any other way, for Stryder would not suffer to have his little sister take on more burdens than she already bears. This is in despite of the fact that his sister’s innate talent for the arcane was not unlike the scion of Lukos, their late mother, which made her the ideal heiress to the name in comparison to her fool of a brother that couldn’t weave aether to save his life.)

At this, the soldiers saw her eyes sparkle — as a stout leader in her own right encouraging them with utmost effectiveness — and felt courage welling within their breast.

“One last push, fighters of freedom and justice!” she rallied, raising her claymore towards the Garlean line before her. “Remember Carteneau! Remember Rhalgr’s Reach and Doma Castle! Remember the pain you have suffered and allow it to be your strength for this assault! I yet stand with you and I will not suffer to have them take what we have reclaimed!”

The soldiers released a roaring battle cry before marching forward, the effect of the Warrior’s words giving them the courage needed to continue on this path. Before she could rejoin the main host, she sensed Aymeric’s watching eyes and he continued watching her worriedly. Overshadowing it, however, was a hint of admiration and a single question slipped his lips — one she has been asked many times before.

“All the pain that you have experienced… how is it that you are still able to stand, unbreaking?”

Aria stared at him for a moment before a helpless smile passed her lips.

“Among the greatest forces on this star, man is wont to fall to fear quite easily. It can act as a cold mistress in the abyss, seeking to freeze you whole before engulfing your very core. Yet, as Haurchefant once told us, is there not a fire hot enough to reforge the broken blades within our hearts? For where there is fear, there is cowardice. Despite this, there is in equal parts courage, Aymeric. The courage to take from this abyss the strength we need to push onward and the wisdom to know that taking more will lead us to oblivion.”

Aria’s gaze darted to the sky, her expression growing forlorn. When she had her fill, she turned to Aymeric once more.

“I believe in our people, Aymeric. As you have always done and as I know you ever will. Have faith and it will carry you farther than you think.”

Before Aria could say a word more or Aymeric could respond in kind, a voice called out to the Warrior of Light — the one belonging to her attendant, Echoes, who was part of her squadron sent to spearhead through enemy lines as an irregular unit.

They nodded towards each other and as she was about to depart, Aria raised an arm and stretched it towards her love. Soon, he was surrounded by an aetherial shield that moved as he did, surrounding him in a blanket of stars and encompassing him in a certain kind of warmth that he feels when it comes to her.

“Have care, Aym,” she urged of him. “And no noble sacrifices — I would like to meet our children, after all.”

With a wink, Aria turned her back on the lord commander and sprinted off, leaving behind a blushing lord commander before the first commander reached him.

“My lord?” Lucia called, baffled he was left on his lonesome on the battlefield.

Aymeric smiled and shook his head. “‘Tis of no issue, Lucia. I must work twice as hard now.”

Though Lucia was confused, she didn’t question her lord and followed his lead. In the meanwhile, he felt the aether sifting around him like a warm hug by a hearth on a cold winter’s night. It was just like Aria to give him a boon, unbeknownst to the others so as to not mark indications of ‘favoritism’. It was just like her…

...this method of saying ‘I love you’ without saying the words outright.

---

notes:

*inspired by this comic

[admiringlove]

kisses

+synopsis: genshin boys and the types of kisses they like.

+genre: fluff; headcanons.

+characters: kaeya; diluc; childe; zhongli.

+warnings: none.

+author’s note: brb squealing, neutral reader as always!

+navigation: main menu, genshin menu.

— KAEYA.

the teasing kiss; makes you keep coming back for more and lingers on your lips for hours on end.

kaeya liked kissing you. the sweet feeling of your lips against his, the way you'd blush right after he pulls you in all too suddenly, the way you'd bury your head in his chest right after—hiding the flustered state you were in.

he knew he was a tease, but he secretly liked the way you hid yourself from him. the way you clung to him with both hands right after kissing him would make his heart throb for you. he himself would be shocked, a tiny tint caressing his cheeks as you look up at him with your innocent eyes. the way you'd break out into laughter after looking at him, and the way he'd pull you back in to shut you up.

kaeya's kisses lingered on your lips for hours after he'd been with you. they were reminiscent; he'd kiss you passionately then pull away to taunt you, but upon seeing the pout on your lips, he'd pull you back in. he liked the feeling of your hands in his hair, the feeling of your lips locked against his because he loved you with all he had. although he was one to throw mockeries at you more often than not, he still made sure you knew that he loved you. with his little affirmations, his soft touches, his ever-loving smiles, and last but not least, his lingering kisses.

— DILUC.

the slow and drawn out kiss; filled with passion and neither wants to let go.

diluc may be reserved, but his love and his passion were reserved only for you. the way his eyes would brighten just the tiniest bit when you walked into the room, or how his eyebrows relaxed when you locked gazes with him—he loved to cherish what the two of you had.

so his kisses were long. he'd hold you close, and he was always scared to let go. he secretly hoped you didn't either because he'd always draw it out as much as he could. he would only pull away when at least one of you was completely breathless, chest heaving as you breathed in the air. his kisses were warm; the feeling of coming back home after a tiring journey was how you'd described it once. he'd smiled at you then, pulling you in for such a kiss that felt like home. warm, just like a hearth.

they were filled to the brim with passion. diluc may be a quiet man, but he always spoke through his actions rather than his words. he'd hold you a bit tighter on some days(days where he felt like he didn't want to let go of you unless absolutely necessary), and lighter on some days(when he felt like you were the most fragile thing on this planet, so he had to cherish you until he could).

so yes, diluc was in love with you. yes, he showed you through his kisses how infatuated he was with your smiles. yes, he held you with utmost care because he didn't want to lose you. and yes, his kisses were the most passionate and the most loving.

— CHILDE.

the sudden kisses; in the middle of a sentence, catching your lips and pulling you into his arms.

childe loved watching you talk about your interests. he loved listening to you rant about how the bookstore didn't have that new sequel of the series you'd been waiting to read. he liked listening to your rambles about how you'd defeated matachurls or how you'd singlehandedly taken out members of the abyss order.

but childe also loved kissing you in the middle of your sentence. he's a total flirt about it too—you remember you were telling him to be home at least half an hour earlier, but he'd kissed you when you were telling him to go take a shower. of course, you'd melted into it, your hands at the back of his neck as his found your waist and pulled you closer to him. his sapphire blue eyes locked onto yours with passion and mischief as your foreheads collided against one another, chests heaving as you tried to breathe.

he loves to give you a fond smile right after, making you blush the tiniest bit before you begin talking again, accusing him of distracting you and making you forget about your prior conversation. he liked watching you scold him for being reckless, but most of all, he loved pulling you back in. the way you'd playfully punch his chest right after would make him laugh alongside you.

he loved you. he'd come to that realization long ago because his knees grew weak whenever you smiled because of him. and when he eventually tells you, he doesn't expect you to say it back to him, but he's grateful that someone like him has someone like you to come back home to.

— ZHONGLI.

the forehead kiss; filled with the utmost care and compassion, but also the affirmations that come along with them. 

zhongli had dealt with a lot in the six-thousand years that he's lived till now. yet not once, had someone like you come along.

he loved cherishing you to the fullest. he had a vulnerable side that he showed to you and only you; holding your hand with the utmost care, thinking that he'd break you because of how fragile you might be. or the way his heart skipped a beat whenever he pressed a peck to your forehead. a blush would overcome his cheeks, his eyes frantic until you reach up and caress him before you press your lips on his(if his heart skipped a beat before, then it did about ten backflips now).

he's a fool in love. he knows it himself, but he can't deny it when it comes to you. he has a habit of staring, and when you catch him, he's flustered, but he continues to give you a smile(which throws you off as well). he admits that you're better at love than he is, but he won't stop showing you how much he cares. he won't stop kissing your forehead every chance he gets.

and if he has to wait another six-thousand years for you to come along again, he'll gladly do so.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[wickedjaime]

Ned x Cersei, the first time cersei felt a real spark

~

It was the sheer gall of it that’d stolen her breath, Cersei told herself.

There they were, Queen and insolent Hand, sitting in the godswood amongst the quiet, the Keep, the land, hers, the place where Lord Eddard Stark thought himself kind and honorable when he’d offered her the chance for her and her children to flee before he tattled on her to his precious, beautiful Robert. The arrogance of him, speaking his staged, pretty words of mercy — words that would have been pretty, if not mangled by his barbaric Northern accent. And not only arrogant — resigned. Decided, like he’d already won. But good, still, always good, and noble, and oh so honorable. Cersei could scarcely even hear what he was saying from where he sat on his high fucking horse.

That feigned kindness will fade from your overly long, bland face, once I am done with you, mutt, Cersei was tempted to snap at him. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek to kill her scowl, let her full lips fall into a soft easiness, pretty and soothing, with fangs just behind its curve, waiting to devour any man she’d aimed it toward. Eddard Stark was a righteous pain, self-assured of his honor, good and annoying — and worse, crippled, now, after her brother had put him in his place — but he was a man, still, and she was Queen Cersei Lannister. Far more beautiful than his meddling shrew of a wife, golden and elegant, with claws far sharper than any wolf’s. She could sway him. She could own him. She need only smile. All it had ever taken was a smile. It worked on Jaime, the other half of her soul. It worked on Lancel. It worked on all the other peons she’d ordered over the years, pathetic males who thought only with their cocks, because they were only men, and she was Cersei Lannister. It worked on them. And it would work on Eddard Stark, too. It would.

Cersei leaned closer to Ned, letting her golden hair rain down in rivulets over her shoulder. The glowing tips grazed his hand. She reached for it, smiled —

And the wince showed itself before she could catch it — a small gasp, a scowl, and digging nails, clutching into Eddard Stark’s flesh.

Her cheek.

Beyond the pale, scented powder that’d dusted her face, it was swollen. Swollen, and purple. And tender.

Tender, because Robert had hit her. Struck her like an insolent servant who’d stolen his wine. Backhanded her like one of his whores. Punished her like she’d become truth made flesh — the undeniable fact that the wrong man had died at the Trident on that cursed day, and that she’d deserved a better husband, Rhaegar, because she had, she fucking had, and her neck had twisted with the blow, so hard and quick that for half a breath, she thought it’d snapped, and her hair had flown with it, traitorous and shining like sunlight, cracking against her face like a whip.

Her cheek. Her face, beaten and stiff and healing.

And the smile had disturbed it.

Cersei snatched her hand away from him. Blood flew from her nails, splattered Eddard’s sleeve. Lannister crimson on Stark grey. Westerland wildberries on snow. Almost peaceful. Serene. Nothing like the rage rising inside of her.

Rage, because Ned Stark had seen her be honored with the lump that sat on her face. And he saw her now.

Rage.

Not shame.

Rage.

But she was a lioness. She was always enraged. It was in her nature to be so. It was what made her strong. The rage was not foreign — it was her. She could control it. And things that could be controlled, could be fixed. This can still be salvaged. She’d shown weakness, but men liked that, for beautiful women to be weak. If they were weak, they needed to be saved, and Eddard Stark was nothing if not one who perceived himself as savior to the innocent and weak. She could use this. She could.

Cersei let out a soft flutter of a laugh, one that was the perfect blend of embarrassment and softness, and charm. “Forgive me, my lord,” she murmured as a ragged breath fled her throat — part of the performance, of course. She rose her chin to demurely catch his gaze. “I am simply fright —”

Her words hung in her throat. Lips parted, breath halted, as she saw Eddard Stark’s face, truly saw it.

Not his face — the parts of it. The mouth, set tight and firm, but somehow not cruel. The brow, dark and furrowed, yet somehow soft.

And the eyes.

Gods, his eyes.

Grey, dark, endless wolf eyes. So dark they threatened to be black. Black like madness, black like evil, black like monstrous, unfeeling, soulless, and yet there was so much feeling in that darkness that for the first time since her first breath, Cersei Lannister was rendered silent.

Silent, because Cersei knew the abyss that held her gaze. Knew that look in the Quiet Wolf’s eyes.

Pity.

Pity, for her.

And before she could process it, before she could sneer, raise her paw and smack that look off his face, curse him, because the nerve, the gall, he dares, he dares —

A bleeding hand bloomed before her eye, reaching, and held her swollen cheek.

No, not held.

Cradled.

Like a newfound lover, Ned Stark’s palm kissed Cersei’s cheek, long fingers grasping her as if she were a dying rose he dared not wither. The wind was still, yet the leaves stirred and rustled, a dry song that drowned her, and Cersei felt nothing, not her breath, nor the blood rushing in her ears, nor the teeth sinking into her tongue. Only the rough plains of Ned’s hand on her bruise. He is warm, she realized. Warm, and the rest of her was so cold. Warm, and soft, somehow.

And at his touch, her cheek did not hurt.

“Has he done this before?” Eddard Stark asked, softly, gently, as if she were a fawn he feared startling. That alone should have made Cersei furious, but she felt no fury, only the warmth. It’d spread to her other cheek, like some abhorrent disease, as if she were blushing. Not as if — she was blushing. Good, she told herself. Men love blushing women. I have salvaged this. She had.

She had, yet she found herself pulling away from his touch, away from him, eyes locking on his bleeding hand, the crimson crescents her claws had given him. “Once or twice,” she said just as softly, unbidden. “Never on the face before. Jaime would have killed him, even if it meant his own life.” Why I am telling this fool any of this? He’ll be locked away soon enough, out of my sight, freezing in the North where he belongs. That, or dead; she had not decided yet.

Out the corner of her eye, Cersei saw Ned lower his head, long horse face solemn.

Cersei’s eyes burned a gaze into his bleeding hand. Red slivers oozed down white flesh, thick and slow, like crimson tears. Somehow, that renewed her anger, brought her calm face to fury. Do not weep for me, Ned Stark.

Cersei met his gaze then, chin raised, nostrils flared, eyes dry, defiant. Ned only stared back, solemnness unwavering. Pitying her, still, but something else too, now. As if he were reflecting. Reflecting, and his dark grey eyes became softer than Cersei Lannister had ever seen them. Soft, like clouded midnight. Misty clouds, like unshed tears, and she hated him. She fucking hated him.

Cersei snapped to her feet, Lannister eyes glaring down at the mutt like the pissant that he was. She laughed. “Does Ned Stark cry for all of his enemies?” she asked. Her words had as much hissing cruelty in them as she could muster, with a scowl to accompany them. She turned. “I will take your words under advisement, my lord.” She almost took a step, then thought better of it. No. She was not done with him yet. Those wolf eyes were silent, but loud, and Cersei Lannister allowed no one to have the last word, especially not some oblivious, unhandsome, pitying, long-faced mutt that she had already bested. “Heed mine as well. Your soft heart will be your undoing. It is your greatest mistake.” And I will take utmost pleasure in watching that mistake cover you with rot as you stew in my Black Cells, Weakhearted Wolf.

“I’ve made many mistakes in my life, my lady,” said Eddard Stark, sounding exhausted and haunted all of a sudden, but that softness, that fucking softness, and gentleness, still, and for some reason, out of all times she’d been tempted, she did raise a hand to slap him, but only for half a breath, and only half an inch past her hip. Ned was still talking when her hand relaxed. “That was not one of them.”

“Oh, but it was, my lord,” Queen Cersei said, and honestly, perhaps Uncle Gerion had been right when he’d said that Lannisters only spoke to hear their own voices, because she had no other reason to be advising a pathetic enemy who was too stupid to realize he’d already lost. Yet, she went on. “Win you play the game of thrones, you win, or you die. There is no middle ground.” Do you hear me? I might kill you, you fool. Give me a challenge. Give me play. You should suspect I’ve killed your sweet king already, or are you as moronic as you are kind? Are wolves truly so easy to defeat? Can your paws only offer sweet caresses? He had not touched her for countless breaths, but that warmth was still there, holding her swollen cheek. Some part of her wondered if her flesh was still as bruised as it was, though that was a silly thought. The naive wolf held no healing abilities, as supposedly gentle and honorable as he thought himself to be, and gods, why was she still here?

With that, Cersei left him, footfalls purposely slow and calm as she entered the Keep. The concealed air beyond the doors greeted her like a smothering, yet the air on her cheek remained fresh, new.

Soft.

Cersei raised a hand to touch it, only to see that it was shaking. And not just her hand — her heart, too. It was beating out of time. Out of time, like the leaves that were moving even though the wind had stilled, and her ragged breath, despite the fact that she’d sat there frozen.

It is my anger stirring me, Cersei Lannister knew. My rage. Weakness overcame me, in front of a foolish enemy, no less. Then he humiliated me with kindness, and not even a feigned one. He was genuine. Had pity, for me. His fucking pity. That was what shook her with rage, left her speechless, breathless, weightless — soon to be former Lord Hand Eddard Stark, and the fact that he dared.

The insulting boldness.

The sheer gall.

The soft, condescending nerve.

Yes.

That was it.

Only that.

Only.

Only, and Cersei Lannister decided that she would kill Eddard Stark, after all.

[nebulousmeadows]

Things appeared to be entirely normal when Elizabeth reached the house. That was a relief. But what was going on inside? No lights were on, as far as Elizabeth could see. Even so, she couldn’t afford to take any chances. Tentatively, she turned the handle. Finding it already unlocked, she cautiously leaned on it, making as little noise as possible.

The door was closed with a soft click, and Elizabeth made a slow sweep of her surroundings. The house was dark and eerily still. Save for some flickering lights in the kitchen, on the other side of the house. The Gothitelle’s chest tightened at the sight of it.

Oh, dear. As expected, someone was still awake. And they must’ve been aware of her absence. She reminded herself to stay calm, and say what Nysa told her to. Showing nervousness would only heighten her parents’ suspicions. Taking a deep breath, she held it in her chest and soothed her own nerves in silence.

Until a calm voice startled her out of the process.

“Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth’s breath hitched in her throat, if but for a moment. Her soft gaze trailed to meet that of another, straight ahead in the living room.

Seated in a plush armchair, with ocean eyes peering out from behind a pair of reading glasses, was a much older Gothitelle. He had been waiting for her for quite a while, it seemed. His expression was not unkind, however, and he eased himself into a standing position when Elizabeth drew nearer to him.

“Hi, Dad.” She spoke, an apologetic smile working its way into her features. “I apologize for coming home late. I’ve been with Nysa.” Lifting his glasses from his nose, her father stepped closer to inspect her face. Despite her nervous, racing thoughts, Elizabeth held firm under the scrutiny. “…I assume she’s helped you with what transpired this month?” he asked.

He got a nod in response. “We figured it out. It took us a while, but we found something that worked. I’m perfectly fine.”

Elizabeth could feel her shoulders relax when the elder Gothitelle sighed, his eyelids lowered. He seemed convinced. “I just want to make sure you’re being safe out there, especially at night. Your mother and I were very worried about you.” “Don’t worry,” Elizabeth chuckled softly, “I’ve been careful. Everything’s fine.”

“Mmm, nice try.” He teased, raising a brow with a faint smile. Elizabeth stifled another small laugh as she drew her father into a gentle hug, which he happily reciprocated.

Her attention was diverted upon hearing more familiar voices nearby. Looking towards the sound, she moved closer to it. “Is that…?”

When she entered the kitchen, Elizabeth found her older siblings—Felix and Rosina—engaged in a pleasant conversation with their mother. She was briefly taken by surprise, until a bloom of happiness shooed it away. They finally came home for the holidays! And they must’ve known of her absence, too.

Felix caught sight of his sister first, and his lips immediately turned up in a bright smile. He swept her into a warm hug, and Rosina joined in. “Where’ve you been?” the former asked, “We were so excited to see you and you were nowhere to be found!”

“I was busy, sorry.” Elizabeth smiled, only for Felix to hold her in one arm and gently ruffle her hair. “Ahh, you know I’m just messing with you~” “Felix~” His younger sister’s smile widened, a lilt of amusement in her voice as she gently brushed his hand away. This earned a snort of laughter from both him and Rosina. Of course, it was all in good nature.

“I’ve really missed you two.” Elizabeth admitted, after fixing her bangs. The smile on her face was… quite sad.

“So did we.” Came Rosina’s reply, her eyes softening. “It’s really been a while.”

“We’ve all got some catching up to do,” Felix beamed. “But seriously, where did you go? You were gone for hours, from what we’ve heard.”

And so began a small family discussion. Only briefly touching on the subject of Elizabeth’s disappearance, much to her unspoken relief.

It would be some time before everyone went to bed. Once again, the house fell silent.

Elizabeth was settled comfortably under the blankets, yet her mind buzzed with activity. While she was glad her friends could return home safely, her concern for the ghostly siblings clung strongly to her heart.

What was happening now?

What would the outcomes of the situation be?

Was their destined fight already taking place?

She could only guess.

Her busy thoughts couldn’t keep her for long, though. For once she drifted, Elizabeth finally succumbed to the hands of sleep.

Initially, she was greeted with nothing. An empty, dark void. Nothing more.

She was alone.

But only for a short time.

Shadowy tendrils crept through the abyss, with a wispy substance like smoke. They trailed and danced along her skin, only to retreat at the slightest touch. Yet they would return whenever she stopped. They formed odd shapes and coiled about her fingers, until they were suddenly yanked back into the fathoms below.

A rumbling force made the Gothitelle’s body tremble.

One after another, she was bombarded with horrifying images and situations. Some of which she was involved in, others she simply beared witness to. She wasn’t sure which was worse. Deafening roars and shrieks filled her ears, no matter how she tried to block them out. It was incredibly disturbing for a dream; so much so that Elizabeth even stopped to question the reality of it all. But she couldn’t even hear her own voice.

Despite so many things going on at the same time, the Gothitelle could still distinguish certain entities, namely Yemir, Eudai and Whisper as they materialized and vanished erratically. Pain was evident in some way, shape or form each time she saw them. Other emotions like rage and bloodlust plagued their faces. Of course, it was hard to tell with Eudai. Altogether, it was just terrible. And on top of that, a strange sense of paralysis was working its way up Elizabeth’s body. Oh, how she dreaded that feeling. Being unable to move. Unable to escape.

And amongst all the madness, a shifting form drew ever closer through the shadows. The large, bulky silhouette was quickly revealed to be a battered Dusknoir, with black ichor oozing from the great maw that was her stomach.

Whisper.

The wraith’s rancid face was mere inches from hers, a twisted grin stretching her mouth to an impossible degree. Bony fingers curled around Elizabeth’s neck as the decaying Dusknoir stared with an intense, unsettling red eye. Delirious glee written all over her features. Her raspy voice echoed loudly as she uttered something just as disconcerting.

“Wakey wakey, little sister~”

Elizabeth sprung awake with a sharp gasp, bolting upright. Her breathing was shallow, mildly labored. As if she had actually been grabbed at the throat in this dimension. Alas, it was only a dream. A horrible dream, she thought.

But that wasn’t her only concern. She had woken up to what felt like an earth tremor, shaking the house considerably. It didn’t last very long, but it was enough to startle one from their sleep.

So it wasn’t just a part of her dream… it had happened in the real world, too. But what caused it? She had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t an average coincidence.

No. Something was behind this.

Elizabeth slipped a hand into her soft hair, lifting the bangs that fell over her right eye. But suddenly she stopped, and blinked slowly. She felt something unusual. Something that didn’t belong.

Withdrawing her slender fingers, she lifted her gaze to find them encased in a dark, supple, all too familiar glove.

Oh, yes. She knew who this was from.

Somewhere, in the depths of her mind, Elizabeth called out a name.

“Eudai? Are you there…?”

Oddly enough, there was no response. No presence, no voice. She was in full control of her own body, too.

“That’s strange.” She muttered aloud, only to frown a little at her own voice. It was rather monotonous, but soft. It lingered like a whisper.

Something wasn’t right.

Sliding out from under the blankets, Elizabeth quietly made her way over to a mirror on the wall. Heels clicked underneath her, she noticed. And when the star reader could finally see herself, her eyes grew wide.

This… this was the same way she looked earlier today. When Eudai was in control. But, Eudai wasn’t even there. It was all the more evident when she looked closer at her eyes. The black sclera and scars were still there, alright, but the irises were Elizabeth’s natural blue. And the pupils themselves, they were normal. Her gaze wasn’t as intense as Eudai’s, but it still felt a bit reminiscent to his. Perhaps that was because of her eyes as a whole.

Even so. Was this really happening?

It wasn’t another dream, and this was confirmed when the ghostly entity heard voices in the hall. Talking about the event that just took place. And a strange, unrelenting pressure they couldn’t seem to shake from their shoulders.

Uh oh. Her family was awake. And, eventually, they would want to come in and check on her.

Elizabeth would not have this.

Not in her current state.

She didn’t know what to do at first, as panic bubbled in her chest. But then there was a spark. An idea. She quickly took action, gently lifting herself off the floor to hover. Taking off her hat and cape, she hid them in her closet and grabbed a robe. Hopefully it would be enough to hide the rest of her as she snuck back under the covers with the utmost care to not make a sound.

Just then, a voice called from the other side of the bedroom door. “Elizabeth? Are you alright in there?” That was her mother.

Now, Elizabeth wasn’t sure how to respond without revealing her voice. So she kept silent and brushed her bangs over closed eyes, simply deciding to feign sleep. Since no reply reached her ears, her mother slowly opened the door and peered into the room, while her husband stood behind her.

To them, it appeared as if their daughter was asleep. Nevertheless, Alina went in to check on her.

“I’m surprised she hasn’t woken up.” She admitted softly, lightly stroking Elizabeth’s head. Piero could only sigh, responding in a similar tone. “As long as she’s okay. That tremor could’ve been worse.”

“Mhm.”

“I still can’t quite figure out where that pressure is coming from. It’s… very strange, to say the least. And it’s particularly strong in this room.”

“You don’t think it has anything to do with Elizabeth, do you?”

“… Probably not. Chances are it has ties with that tremor, but I may be wrong. For now, we’ll see what becomes of it tomorrow.”

Luckily for Elizabeth, the pair left almost as soon as they came, closing the door behind them. Once she was sure they had gone back to bed, she swiftly rose from hers and returned to the closet.

Naturally, she put the robe away and replaced it with her cape. However, she couldn’t help but pause as she held the hat in her hands. The hat…

There was something… oddly comforting about it. She couldn’t quite explain it, but the sensation she felt was very much there. Placing it back on her head, the Gothitelle turned on her heel to face the windows.

It was too dangerous to stay here. She could feel immense power and pressure under her skin, just begging to be released. And this was not the place to give in.

She would have to leave once more.

At the door, she saw no one peeking in to watch her. Good.

Soundlessly, Elizabeth opened the window and floated out. A simple snap of her fingers would set the lock back in place from the other side. And with that, the hatted specter flew off into the night. Not daring to leave a trace of her presence behind.

She sought out a wide open space, where potential damage would be minimal. Meadows and fields were best. Thankfully, there were a good number of these in Nevora. And soon enough, Elizabeth discovered a quiet meadow with plenty of room for her to expel her pent up energy. And plenty of distance from her village.

Before she would proceed, however, the Gothitelle checked her surroundings with a single psychic sweep. No signs of life to be found. She was safe.

With that in mind, Elizabeth allowed every muscle in her body to relax and go still. Until her form began to tremble uncontrollably. She drew deep, shuddering breaths. Seconds later, her body unleashed a powerful, unrelenting flow of energy that dispersed like the rolling tide. Lavender Psychic kicked up powdery snow, blowing it across the hills and far off into the distance. Bolts of electricity lashed out, threatening to split nearby trees if they happened to be close by. The ground rumbled under Elizabeth’s immense Pressure, and any local Pokemon who could sense it hastily fled the area. That is, if they hadn’t been floored by it.

How could someone like her possess such raw power? It was very unnerving.

Elizabeth stretched her limbs with a subtle groan. It felt good to finally let that energy go. But that didn’t shake the qualms she had for her new form. How was she going to reverse this? Was it permanent? Temporary? A situation of ‘one thing by day, another by night’? Who knew.

Once that extra energy was expelled and fully dissipated, Elizabeth’s powers subsided and her Pressure let up considerably. Lowering herself to the ground, Elizabeth landed with nary a peep, and lifted her gaze to the sky. She had nowhere to go, really. Unless she felt like wandering and exploring the world, perhaps. But Elizabeth was too concerned with this strange predicament on her hands. And it was quite late.

There was the possibility of going to Nysa and asking for help. But hadn’t she helped her a lot today? Would it be rude to ask for more? The sorceress must’ve been in bed by now, too.

She couldn’t help thinking about that dream she had, either. What did it mean? Was there anything she could glean from it besides pure madness, pain, and destruction? What if it had something to do with the siblings’ present situation?

Elizabeth was pulled out of her thoughts when she felt a presence in her vicinity. It came to her like a drop in the water, waves rippling out towards her. Looking around, it took her only a moment to pinpoint the exact location of its owner.

The spectral Gothitelle slowly turned her head to the side, blue eyes peering over her shoulder. Her voice was still quite soft in tone, but it was a bit deeper and very audible as it lingered on her lips with a slight echo.

“You can come out now. I know you’re there.”

{ Elizabeth is now available for asks. }