#the difference is he grew up in northland

[rowenabean]

Back in the land of the mangroves (this is still wild to me)

[barelylivingscholar]

Arlecchino with a daughter prt. 2 tw: Dottore (mentioned), gore(?), torture.

I’ve been hearing from Pantalone, that I am being searched for. Interesting. I sipped on tea as Pantalone had given me updates in regarding the new “successor” that had replaced me. Lyney was his name. He has a twin sister, Lynette. I have not met them before. I fiddled with the fur of my cloak, as Pantalone then switches the topic about the Northland Bank… A few weeks had passed after my exit from the House of the Hearth. I have been working alongside Pantalone to establish plans and how to manage each branch. I have learned a lot from him in regards to Mora, and how to use it effectively. In one week, I learned how to negotiate, bargain, and put someone into debt… Then on the second week, I have learned how to use different torture methods to instill fear upon people who are unable to pay their debts… By the third week… I learned how to control people. By using Mora.  

So far, Pantalone has been nothing but more of a figure that I have learned to respect… Unlike “Knave”, Pantalone gives me time to explore places, areas that I have not seen before… I am free to do whatever I want to. There is no limit to what I cannot do while I am under his wing. Pantalone is more honest and straight to the point. He is not vague on wording things regarding any type of situation. He feels more familiar than the “Knave.” While I do not have any obligation or whatsoever to call him “Family”, I feel more connected to him rather than what I had with the “Knave”. Pantalone had given me permission to call him by his name, rather than his codename. I like to think that Pantalone grew on me as I grew on him too. He started little, he invites me for tea after finishing missions, gifts me things from other nations, and values my input rather than ignore it. Pantalone was never shy on telling me what life was like back then when he was once someone who had no Mora in his name…

Pantalone had told me stories about his coworker “The Doctor.” Stories that had my bone chilled even until now. He warns me to not wander off far from his radar. “Who knows what Zandik would do to you once he had set his eyes on you as another project of his” Pantalone remarked, as he shakes his head and switched topic. It seemed that he had noticed my discomfort about his coworker. Pantalone mentions that the “Knave” seemed very adamant on not believing that I was dead. My expression had hardened. Pantalone as always, caught onto it. He nods in understanding. “You’re in a better place now.” “Am I really?” “It depends on how you see it.” We then finished our tea and left to go back at his base. I encountered a few children from the House of the Hearth on the way back, their eyes widening as I walked alongside Pantalone. A child who I presumed to be Lyney, as Pantalone had described to me what the boy’s appearance was approached me. “Are you Blanche? The one who has been missing for weeks?” I stiffened at the mention of my former name, but regained my composure. “Surely you are mistaken. I am not Blanche.” I answered, staring at him curiously. Is this the person who is the “successor” of the House of the Heath? “You look exactly the same as the image “Father” had provided.” “I may look the same as the person in that photo but that isn’t me. That person is dead.” I say bluntly, scanning Lyney’s surprised expression. “But-“ I cut him off. “I am not the same person you are looking for. I am a disciple of “Regrator”. As you can see, we are busy. He is a busy man. If you’d excuse us…” I then walked away from Lyney. His twin who I assumed to be “Lynette” had come up to him and exchanged glances. I am not coming back from that place.

Pantalone surveys my expression. “You look pale.” I attempt to calm down, as I answered him in a tight voice, “I am fine.” Pantalone does not buy it. “Are you afraid that the “Knave” will take you back to the House of the Hearth?” He goes straight to the point. I then replied in a harsh tone. “She can try. But I’m not coming back. I’m never stepping foot in that place again.” I looked haunted. “If it helps, I do not intend on surrendering you to the “Knave.” You are now my disciple. Not her orphan anymore.” I attempt to at least smile a little at his attempt of comfort. “Correct. But people like her do not intend to give up easily. There will be consequences.” I sighed. “She has no other choice. I provide the funds for the Hearth. She cannot act rashly.” I then looked away from him, staring at the path ahead. “I know someday I will return to that place eventually, but in a different standing.” Pantalone nods. “You will. But as my disciple this time. You have been well informed of our upcoming schedule.” I stretched my limbs. “Duty is duty. I am bound to it. You have been accommodating enough to me that I see this more as a business opportunity rather than… Revisiting trauma.” I shakily sighed. “Whether I have any negative feelings of that place… It does not apply to the agenda. This is strictly business.” I attempt to convince myself that there is nothing more than that. But thoughts still continued to plague me on the way back to the base. We walked in silence. Pantalone does not further question me anymore.

I was left to my own devices by Pantalone to deal with an unsettled debt by an old man. I subdued the man into torture, as usual. The torture method used is to mark their skin with an iron stamp, as I cast the iron to the stamp and brand their skin with the Fatui logo, I enjoyed the screams of my victims. Before, I was afraid. Now, I am numb to it all. I left the chamber with a bloody bag of mora in hand. I report back to Pantalone that I had collected the debt, and left to write down a report for Pantalone. I then scrubbed the blood off the bag of mora. I tutted as the old man’s blood was spilled on the bag of coins. I hate filth. I hate who I was once. I am now cleared of the filth that I was once covered in. This is me now. Blanche is dead. “Disciple” is who I am now. I emerged out of the washroom as a new person. In a month, I will revisit the House of Hearth under the banner of “Regrator.” If there is anything that Pantalone had taught me best, it is the language of Mora. I am just as obsessed with Mora as well. For now, I must stay in Snezhnaya.

Freminet had been searching for Blanche for a while now. She was a calm girl who only spoke a few words. “Father” had seemed to favor her over the many children of the Hearth, which led to many despising Blanche. All but Freminet. He never hated Blanche. She was the only girl who respects his boundaries and chooses to speak with him in a manner that is comforting. She indulges him in visiting “Penguin Town.” And had once gifted him a penguin plush that is still kept by him in his room. Although their interactions are limited, but he considers her as his only friend. Freminet believes that Blanche hadn’t died. Before her disappearance, he saw Blanche rushing out of the house, seemingly in a hurry. He paid no mind to it until he saw Father asking about Blanche’s whereabouts an hour later. He then went to search for Blanche. Only to come back with a frozen bloody pin. Blanche had disappeared. No one knew where she was.

Until, Lyney had come to him to inform him of Blanche’s reappearance. Freminet was stunned to know that Blanche had chosen to not come back to the House of the Hearth. Freminet believed she will be back after being found. The man she was with had something to do with it. “Regrator”, ninth of the Fatui… Father must know of this. Lyney had said to him. He then leaves Freminet to think about the news. Blanche should have no reason not to return, she was favored, loved by Father, why else would she not return? Surely, she had not been brainwashed by the man she was with. He vows to help Blanche come to her senses so she would return to House of the Hearth, to where she will spend time with Pers and him again. He just had to convince Father to let Blanche play with him. ̶S̶̶h̶̶e̶ ̶w̶̶a̶̶s̶ ̶a̶̶l̶̶w̶̶a̶̶y̶̶s̶ ̶u̶̶n̶̶a̶̶v̶̶a̶̶i̶̶l̶̶a̶̶b̶̶l̶̶e̶ ̶t̶̶o̶ ̶p̶̶l̶̶a̶̶y̶ ̶w̶̶i̶̶t̶̶h̶.

Lyney entered Father’s office. To where Father has been waiting for updates in regards to her beloved daughter.  ̶H̶̶e̶̶r̶ ̶d̶̶a̶̶u̶̶g̶̶h̶̶t̶̶e̶̶r̶ ̶w̶̶h̶̶o̶ ̶s̶̶h̶̶e̶ ̶h̶̶a̶̶d̶ ̶d̶̶e̶̶a̶̶r̶̶l̶̶y̶ ̶l̶̶o̶̶v̶̶e̶̶d̶. She had loved them so much that she didn’t want any harm to come upon her daughter…  Her daughter had run away from her after what she said to her, to which Arlecchino had come to regret deeply… Perhaps she shouldn’t have said those words.  ̶M̶̶a̶̶y̶̶b̶̶e̶ ̶h̶̶e̶̶r̶ ̶d̶̶a̶̶u̶̶g̶̶h̶̶t̶̶e̶̶r̶ ̶w̶̶o̶̶u̶̶l̶̶d̶'̶v̶̶e̶ ̶s̶̶t̶̶i̶̶l̶̶l̶ ̶b̶̶e̶ ̶h̶̶e̶̶r̶̶e̶ ̶b̶̶y̶ ̶t̶̶h̶̶e̶̶n̶.

Her crossed eyes had seemed to have a dangerous glow at the mention that her daughter was with Pantalone. ̶H̶̶e̶ ̶s̶̶t̶̶o̶̶l̶̶e̶ ̶h̶̶e̶̶r̶ ̶f̶̶r̶̶o̶̶m̶ ̶m̶̶e̶! Silence had engulfed the office… Before she finally spoke up. “Thank you for the report, Lyney. You may now leave…” After Lyney left, Arlecchino angrily digs her nails on her desk, leaving a claw mark. Mɏ đȺᵾǥħŧɇɍ... Ɨ wɨłł ǥɇŧ ɏøᵾ ƀȺȼꝁ...

An: Things will get more confusing once part three rolls out... There is more to it now that there's another pov... Especially "Father's." Feel free to interpret things as there will be more misunderstandings to come in the next following chapters...  

[melestasflight]

In the Silmarillion fandom, we enjoy grabbing the trope of “Nolofinwëan recklessness” and running wild with it. 

The most common victims of this are Fingon the Rash Prince and Fingolfin the Impulsive King, who rushes into suicidal combat. Both father and son daring death within Morgoth’s domain. 

It’s fun to write and exciting to imagine, no doubt, but I’d like to offer a different take. In fact, what makes Fingon and Fingolfin (and the rest of that family) compelling to me is their patience and endurance.

Yes, I’m aware Fingon rushes to battle at Alqualondë, but that’s a world-altering event. The light of the world has literally gone out, murder has happened in Valinor, Finwë is dead. Most of the Noldor are up on their feet and ready to depart. Everyone is rushing.

But this is not always the case with Fingon. Most significantly, the rescue of Maedhros is NOT an impulsive decision. The published Silmarillion offers no timeline on this, but in The Grey Annals, five entire years pass between the arrival of Fingolfin’s host to Beleriand and Fingon’s decision to look for Maedhros. 

Five years in which the two hosts are quite literally on the verge of civil war because, let’s not forget:

No love was there in the hearts of those that followed Fingolfin for the House of Fëanor, for the agony of those that endured the crossing of the Ice had been great, and Fingolfin held the sons the accomplices of their father. 

Diplomacy is a painfully slow (and absolutely frustrating!) ordeal. Fingon’s decision is born from this strife, from thirty years on the Helcaraxë, and five years of civil restlessness, not to mention the clear signs that Morgoth is ready to attack them at any moment:

Then Fingon the valiant, son of Fingolfin, resolved to heal the feud that divided the Noldor, before their Enemy should be ready for war; for the earth trembled in the Northlands with the thunder of the forges of Morgoth underground. 

This is not rashness. This is the sacrifice of a captain who is willing to make the best of what time is left before full-out destruction begins. It would be rashness if Fingon got his company and crossed Mithrim to wage battle on the Fëanorians. Instead, he chooses differently for the sake of peace, stability, and renewed friendship.

The trek from Lake Mithrim to Thangorodrim could be estimated at around 150 miles, depending on the map we follow, and there are grasslands and two sets of mountains to cross, not to mention the horror of Thangorodrim. Fingon travels on foot. It would take him weeks, maybe even months, to find Maedhros. Plenty of time for the fire of rashness to cool down if that was the case. But he persists because he has no other choice.

Similarly, I often see takes on Fingolfin that he rushes to pointless combat with Morgoth in the same manner as Fëanor had done. Yet again, the timeline is crucial here. The published Silmarillion has the battle lasting at least several months. Bragollach starts in F.A. 455 during winter time: 

There came a time of winter, when night was dark and without moon

The battle slows down presumably a few months later:

but the Battle of Sudden Flame is held to have ended with the coming of spring, when the onslaught of Morgoth grew less.

The onslaught grows less, but it doesn’t fully cease. Morgoth and Sauron reissue their attacks early into Fingon’s kingship.

In the Grey Annals, the timeline  is stretched further out:

Year 455:

The Fell Year. Here came an end of peace and mirth. In the winter, at the year's beginning, Morgoth unloosed at last his long-gathered strength

Year 456:

Now Fingolfin, King of the Noldor, beheld (as it seemed to him) the utter ruin of his people, and the defeat beyond redress of all their houses, and he was filled with wrath and despair.

The fighting goes on actively anywhere from a season to a full year! Fingolfin tries to hold his kingdom together for a full year despite an absolute, unquestionable disaster. I mean, look at this description of the battle:

In the front of that fire came Glaurung the golden, father of dragons, in his full might; and in his train were Balrogs, and behind them came the black armies of the Orcs in multitudes such as the Noldor had never before seen or imagined. And they assaulted the fortresses of the Noldor, and broke the leaguer about Angband, and slew wherever they found them the Noldor and their allies, Grey elves and Men. Many of the stoutest of the foes of Morgoth were destroyed in the first days of that war, bewildered and dispersed and unable to muster their strength. War ceased not wholly ever again in Beleriand

Fingolfin’s decision to ride out, again, is not out of recklessness or a spur-of-the-moment decision. It’s everything but that. He has given everything and truly believes it’s all lost: “the utter ruin of his people, and the defeat beyond redress of all their houses.” (!!!) 

This is a final stand, the King’s duty to stand by his people, even in death.

[fatuismooches]

hi smooches,

i've been having so much childe brainrot and its just UGHHHHH

ok, so...

you and ajax were best friends, laughing and playing together in the snezhnayan winter, running down the shoreline of your hometown. he was shy, and would confide in you, all of his secrets, dreams and insecurities. how he wished he could be the hero his father named him after.

of course, he told you about how he wished his parents didn't dote on him too much. you pinky promised not to tell anyone about his doubts. and then, your mother told you that your best friend was missing.

the three days that follow are a vicious cycle of worry and regret because you never told anybody about his thoughts that could've stopped him. now he was lost among snow-capped pines, with wolves and bears, while you sat weeping by the crackling fire in your house.

so you went to look for him, on the third day and found him. a vision in one hand, a shortsword in the other. and his eyes... dull. dead.

but you ran to him, and embraced him (but didn't look at his face), eyes glossy with tears and your mouth full of words left unsaid: i'm sorry, are you okay, i missed you, i love you.

but he was different. now brash and confident, thirsty for bloodshed, picking fights with his classmates. he was not the ajax you grew up with, and lay in the snow with, and spent lonely, dreary afternoons talking about your dreams with. he was a stranger in your friend's body.

and as your parent's gazes clouded with disapproval, you shied away.

of course, he was hurt. but you avoided his gaze, and refused to speak to him, so you never knew the full extent of his anguish.

not long after that, he was sent to fatui training camp, then was going to become an agent. your mother asked whether you would like to see him off before he started work in the field.

you bit your lip and said no.

a few years later, debt collectors from northland bank come knocking at your door. you agree to join the fatui and pay off the debt with your salary, with your parents ailing and unfit for work.

much to your dismay, you learn you are to work under the fatui harbinger tartaglia.

(that's all i got for now. my writing sucks but i just need to get this out of my brain.)

OH MY RBFJFEW THIS IS SCRATCHING MY CHILDE BRAINROT THAT CAME BACK IN FULL FORCE AFTER THE ARCHON QUEST-This is like. Childhood friends to acquaintances to strangers to co-workers to friends to lovers. It's a wild and long ride.

Being childhood friends with Ajax is such a lovely experience :( He's the one who taught you how to fish and you two would spend hours together doing so, even cutting the ice to find a good spot. He'd tell you about the stories his father told him too, and even if he tried to hide it you could see how excited these tales made him. How he hoped to be like them too. You two would also take care of baby Teucer together! His family considered you one of them too. Ajax was undoubtedly one of your favorite people. And maybe you had a teeny crush on him. Maybe.

Though all of that changes when he comes back after his mysterious three-day disappearance in which he is no longer scared or hesitant but instead gives off an aura you have never felt before. Regardless you can't help but embrace him despite the new vibes because that is your friend! But soon enough nothing is the same ever again. I mean, how do you explain a kid going from shy to confident enough to pick fights and brawl with random people? You didn't know what to do, not when your friend suddenly seemed to crave conflict and battle which you were left out of.

You didn't want to leave Ajax. But it was your only choice. It didn't look like there would be room in his life for you anymore anyway, he seemed to enjoy the thrill of bloodshed and battle much more now. He may be hurt, but he'd forget about you soon enough with the way things were going. (Little did you know how much your disappearance hurt what little remained of his cracked heart)

You couldn't say you were surprised when Ajax joined the Fatui. But it was hard to think that the same kid who was always so quiet was now physically and mentally adept enough to join such an organization. Yet no matter how much you tried to forget about him you would always buy the newspapers that had him in them. You'd eavesdrop on others whenever they spoke about his accomplishment. You simply couldn't let go of your childhood crush.

And Ajax couldn't let go of you either. Maybe that's why he specifically requested for you to work under him, unbeknownst to you.

[paimonial-rage]

blasphemous assumptions - zhongli

synopsis: in which the reader confidently explains why, without a doubt, mr. zhongli could never be rex lapis

ship: none except reader’s devotion to the geo archon’s name

notes: spiritual successor to this

You were many things, but you really weren’t a nosy person. You really weren’t! Even when people were whispering things in the hallway and even when those tidbits sounded really interesting, you really genuinely weren’t nosy! You were an adult, after all. You grew past the age of needing to know everything that was going on.

“Right? I… …. … … … knows way too much to be just an ordinary guy! He has to be an… … …”

“I have to agree. If I… … be honest, at one point in time, I even… … he could possibly be–”

‘Be?’ ‘Be’ who? ‘Be’ what?

You sidled a bit closer to the wall. You most certainly did not press your ear up against it or anything immature like that, but… it was rather close.

“Have you ever read… –ognito? In there, it says that Re– … –is has amber eyes. That’s the same color as Mr. Z–”

…

Okay never mind, you didn’t really need to know what they were talking about–

“... So I really thought he had to be Rex Lapis, you know–”

“EXCUSE ME!?”

Your hands slammed against the desk as you burst up in outrage. You could barely hear the two in the hall jumping over the sound of the blood boiling in your ears. They did not– They did NOT just equate the great, mighty, and venerable Rex Lapis to (ugh) Mr. Zhongli.

Your stomping footsteps echoed through the Parlor as you made your way to the Ferrylady and Meng in the hallway. With that glower on your face so potent, they couldn’t help but shake ever so slightly.

“You really thought that Mr. Zhongli, our Mr. Zhongli, could’ve been Rex Lapis?”

Meng laughed nervously as he scratched the back of his neck.

“Well, yeah. He looks young, but he knows more about Liyue than even the most prominent of historians and archaeologists.”

“During the time I’ve spent assisting him, I found that he’s very knowledgeable in geology too. He can tell the difference between the different grades of Cor Lapis just by touching them,” the Ferrylady added.

Meng shrugged.

“I don’t know. Whenever I’m around him, he just feels different, you know?”

“I have to agree. It’s like I’m in the presence of someone divine,” the Ferrylady said with a fervent nod.

Meng gasped at the same time you snorted in disgust.

“I thought the same thing! He has to be an–”

“No, that’s impossible,” you announced with a confident shake of your head, “Mr. Zhongli could never be an adeptus, let alone our wonderful Rex Lapis.”

“Really? You think so?”

You clucked your tongue. They both looked so unsure. How sad.

“The fact you even have to ask such a question reveals how little you know about our previous archon. Let me give you an example. Rex Lapis created the first Mora and set up the treasury that services all of Teyvat. Going off of that, it would only be right to assume he understands Mora inside and out, yes? Even more, if he can create Mora, he would never be without want, don’t you agree?”

“Yes, of course.”

“In all the time you’ve known Mr. Zhongli, has he ever paid for anything on his own?”

Both Meng and the Ferrylady winced.

“Well, no…”

You chuckled.

“Has he ever displayed even a child’s level of knowledge of Mora? For example, the worth of a chicken-mushroom skewer from Wanmin Restaurant?”

“N-No…”

“I even remember Mr. Zhongli once purchasing an expensive set of chopsticks for an associate. It… was over 120,000 Mora…”

You froze as dread slammed into your chest.

“Y-You’re not serious, Ferrylady? I do not remember seeing the receipt for that.”

You finally came to terms with Mr. Zhongli’s “business expenses,” but if this really did happen, it would send the accounts in disarray!

“W-Well, the purchase was covered for by the Northland Bank… coincidentally the same company his associate worked for…”

And suddenly you felt a strange hint of pity for the Fatui.

“A-Anyway, my point is that Mr. Zhongli has proven through action that, as knowledgeable as he is, he understands nothing about Mora. He does not know how it works nor how much it’s worth. Moreover, he burdens his colleagues, associates, and friends with the task of covering his bills due to his lack of foresight of bringing funds with him. Can you imagine Rex Lapis doing something that cruel to his people? And can you imagine him being that excruciatingly clueless of his own creation?”

You could feel a glean of satisfaction at the guilt that flashed across their faces. But soon, Meng steeled his expression once more.

“I… I see where you’re coming from, but… I mean, Mr. Zhongli knows even more than the smartest people in Liyue. That has to mean something, right?”

If you had to be honest, he did have a point.

“Well, how much do we know of Mr. Zhongli in general? For all we know, he could’ve studied at a prestigious school. Or maybe he comes from a family that can trace its lineage back to the Archon War. If you ask me, Mr. Zhongli just appreciates history. It’s his hobby. I always see him talking to scholars and listening to storytellers. Speaking of which, I just thought of something else.

“You’ve both noticed Mr. Zhongli’s favorite way to spend his leisure time is at Third-Round Knockout, right? Iron Tongue Tian’s favorite stories are of Rex Lapis. So let me ask you this. Do you think the honorable, most distinguished archon of all of Teyvat would do something so self-absorbed, so arrogant, so insecure, as listening to stories that praise his past deeds on a near daily basis?”

Both their eyes widened in shock.

“U-Uh… W-Well maybe it would’ve helped him to reminisce about the past–”

You scoffed. To think they would blaspheme the Geo Archon like that to your very face. You rolled your eyes and shrugged mockingly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. There are better ways to do that. There are still adepti alive. All he has to do is visit them. They are his friends, are they not? He wouldn’t just forget about them. What, do you think he just sits there drinking wine alone or something? Honestly, only a haughty, conceited narcissist would have the hobby of enjoying people lauding his praises in front of a crowd.”

“Pfft–”

You turned at the sound of a very stifled giggle to see a doubled-over Paimon and a very amused Traveler. Behind them was Zhongli with a very strange expression on his face. His shoulders seemed ever so slightly drooped. And when his eyes met yours, he gave a smile, albeit a… pained one?

“Hello, Traveler and Paimon. What brings you here?” The Ferrylady asked with a smile.

“Oh, it’s (pffft) nothing. We just needed (snicker snicker) Zhongli for something,” Paimon finally got out between her giggles.

“Well, if you have some time, we can make tea for you both.”

“Oh no, we’ll be going. Thank you though! We’ll see you all later! You too, (giggle giggle) Zhongli!”

As they left, you took a few steps over to the man of the hour. Guilt dripped down your throat. How much did he hear, you wondered. While you were getting on his case during your first point, the second was a lot more kind to him.

“Are you okay, Mr. Zhongli?”

The pained smile still rested upon his lips.

“It seems you all view Rex Lapis very highly.”

You smiled.

“Well, of course!” You exclaimed with hearts practically in your eyes. “While he may have passed, I still have the utmost respect for him. I believe he must have been a phenomenal person. If I met him before he passed, I’m sure my heart would have been just stolen away, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Ahh… sure…”

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Can I request FL Childe with insecure reader that reader always wonder why him choose to stay with him. So, Childe answer with hug and purr sound.

If it's not OK. Feel free to change it.🙏🙏💦💦

ahh, i can relate to that!!! made some very soft and sweet headcanons for you anon <33

~ * ~

When You're Insecure HCs

Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Warnings for crying, allusions to breaking down, insecurity, feeling you're not good enough, TINY mention of fighting

~ * ~

-Self esteem is an enigma -Everyday you see people walking down the streets, stride confident and head held high, as if nothing in the world could make them falter -Lady Ningguang, for example, her resplendent glory gleaming gold in the Jade Chamber above -Or Keqing, the Qixing Yuheng; movements quick and precise, she has the air of bustling business, much like the Harbor itself -Or even the mysterious Traveler, with hair so fair and their little floating companion, known to all as the hero of Liyue Harbor -Yet even as you watch and observe the people and friends around you walk and fight and talk with such confidence, the same inner strength eludes your grasp. Too often you find yourself with a frown, wondering if you’re good enough, or even good at anything at all -It’s something you’ve always handled alone, not wanting to tell your friends in fear of sounding like you were complaining. You’d like to THINK you got better at dealing with these intrusive thoughts, but reality and age has only added weight to your shoulders -The only thing that really improved was your ability to hide such feelings, and be able to appear happy and calm while internally your mind is having a war with itself -You gradually became used to handling your insecurity by yourself, aka pushing them to the side while in public and breaking down later. It’s a peculiar loneliness- you’re surrounded by people, yet can barely relate to anyone -But you never wanted to burden anybody, much less with something as inane as your personal problems. Luckily, no one ever saw deeper than your face and smile, so you were safe -Until a particular Harbinger came along -Even before you and him got particularly close, Childe’s always been good at reading others. So when you came into Northland Bank one day, paperwork and pen in hand, his interest was immediately piqued -Your face was set with iron determination, but he could sense the nerves and fear shaking just below the surface. Not of the Fatui, but of life -You had almost jumped out of your skin when a ginger-haired Fatuus suddenly popped up at your side with a cheerful hello. But Childe was easy to talk to, and talking always made ignoring your bubbling insecurities a bit less difficult. Soon a blossoming friendship was in sight -Childe found joy in giving you witty compliments and surprising you by seemingly coming out of nowhere. So the day he went missing was possibly one of your worst self esteem days in the past few months -Devoid both of your friend’s cheerful presence and the reassurance he brought you, you drew the conclusion that he simply grew bored and left to find someone more interesting -It made your heart ache horribly, no matter how much you attempted to push down those fluttering emotions in fear of losing Childe’s friendship -But now he was gone, perhaps across the nation or even the sea to distant regions -…Or, had been gone. In fact, he was never gone, still inside Liyue and near the Harbor. But now he’s… different, standing several feet taller than you and armored, vividly purple and black as night. It’s his Abyssal form, Zhongli told you, a power no human should ever know -Yet Childe does know, and will know permanently, since he can’t transform back into his normal self anymore -You’re not frightened of him, you never were. Even as this Abyssal creature, this Foul Legacy, towered over you for the first time, you could see only curiosity and kindness in his eye (at least towards you) -Childe is perhaps even more sweet and affectionate in this form, constantly nudging your hands for pets and purring into your neck as he sleeps, a far cry from the war machine Zhongli talked about -He’s certainly impressive, with elegantly curling horns and sharp talons and fangs seemingly crafted for battle- sometimes it makes you wonder if he’s bored inside your home -Sometimes, you wonder why he stays with you at all, a great warrior such as he secluding himself to a boring citizen’s house and company -You wonder this as Childe naps, head in your lap, your hand smoothing and petting his soft, fluffy hair. It’s hard to not think about, when he’s right there and you’re alone in your mind -Maybe he has nowhere else to stay, too obvious and unhidden for his other companions -Maybe he likes your house; even you admit it’s quite comfortable -Or maybe… Maybe he simply pities you. Pities your shaky mimicry of confidence, and the way each day drains more and more from you as you look upon people who are simply so much better in every way -Maybe he pities you, you think, and your hand in his hair slows as you can’t STOP thinking -It’s the lack of pets that wakes Childe, stirring with an annoyed huff at the absence of affection that he so adores. But he sees how you’re staring straight ahead, past him, and his huff turns to a whine of concern -When he brings his claws to your face and gently cups your cheek, you start in surprise, letting out a squeak (you swear he’s been rubbing off on you) before processing your position -Childe chirps, which transitions into a low rumble, one that means “Tell me what’s wrong, so I can help”, a phrase you’ve repeated to him several times before -You attempt a smile, but it comes out watery and forced, and quickly falls from your face as you shake in an effort to not cry -Childe’s claw presses gently into your cheek, a low croon rising from his chest as he bumps his forehead against yours, his way of telling you that it’s okay to cry, and you feel the dam break as you suddenly sob -He takes you in his arms, pressing his cheek into the top of your head and running his claws up your back as you cry into your hands, attempting to wipe away the tears and talk all at once - “Why… Why do you stay with me? Why me, of all people, who can’t help you find new battles or horizons for anything?” -Childe’s gentle scratches and coos stop, frozen as their host processes your words with a sort of mounting horror in the realization that you can’t see what he sees -You can’t see how selfless you are, taking a broken monster like him in without question. You can’t see how he admires you from across the room, when he thinks you’re not looking. You couldn’t see, and still can’t see, how he internally squeals whenever he sees you going about your daily life, how what you think makes you “boring” makes you kind and comforting in his eyes -You can’t see how simply amazing you are, how he loves you to the very core of his being, because in your head it’s impossible because you’re not good enough -You’re sitting in his arms, silent and melancholy, when you feel Childe’s body beginning to shiver. Suddenly he lurches forward, picking you up to mush his cheek with yours as his body shakes with his purrs, so strong and sure -Childe squeezes you against him, flopping over into a pile of pillows as he holds and hugs you, claws ruffling your soft hair and legs intertwining carefully with yours -You’re gasping for air when he takes your hand and flips it palm upwards, then gently traces a heart on your skin with his talon, a croon of soft affection and delight following -You can feel yourself tearing up again, only this time from love and the knowledge that you’re good enough, someone loves you the way you are, you can be enough for him just as yourself and he won’t mind, and you bury your face into a pillow to muffle your hitching hiccups -Childe coos, pulling you close and letting out a blissful purr at the feeling of you slotted against him, so small and perfect in every way. His soft hums make your weary eyes droop, so tired you are from finally opening your heart to someone -Delicate pats on your head bring sleep quickly, silently settling in your bones and stealing you away to dream -And you’re not sure if it was in reality or your dreams that you hear Childe quietly whisper, “I love you”

[genshingarbage]

hi!! i saw your requests are open so here I am :) could you do a one shot of (more characters if you feel like it) albedo, childe and diluc reacting to y/n being super drunk and being way too flirty and accidentally touching their crotch, etc. (before they're in a relationship lol) thank you 🥺💗

Ohoho~ Oh my dear Asylum you’re quite the pervert. I like that. Mine ended up slightly different than the ask but I’m sure you’ll forgive me, Traveler~ I did Diluc and Albedo, Mod Diluc did Childe. Enjoy! - Mod Kaeya

Recommending this song for these oneshots!

Childe

This wasn't what he was expecting when he was told to sort out a loud mouth lower rank from stirring up too much fuss in the centre of the Northland Bank. You, slurring your words and barely keeping balance on your own two feet. What a drunk. He was beyond displeased with your little show you were putting on for workers and customers alike to bare witness too. He approached you with an aura of impending doom just radiating off him; which you were the only one oblivious too since you had your back turned to him, saying some very questionable facts about himself to the young receptionist before you. Something about how 'big' he is to how 'loud' he can be, though if he remembers correctly- he's never done anything of the sort with you.

You were midway through another slurred sentence when you were abruptly interrupted by a rather rough tug on your arm. Tripping over your own footing and collapsing all your weight into the chest of Childe, who was keeping your arm up high in a vice grip, glaring down at you. The entire bank fell quiet, he was mortified with this situation. How is he to keep up his reputation when drunken fools such as yourself go about blabbering nonsense about him to every living soul they encounter. "Childe~" you practically hiccuped the word from your lips, too happily and nonchalantly for his liking, his eyes narrowed on your form and then it hit him. It was you! The girl he'd been flirting with for months now.

Upon unearthing this realisation his face lit up in a dark shade of red, ginger boys do blush the hardest after all. He cleared his throat making light of the situation to everyone else around him; "Aha! Sorry about that ladies and gentlemen, this employee will be dealt with accordingly; I hope this doesn't tarnish your thoughts on our bank, we will never stop aiming to please." Spoken like a true sponsor boy. Everyone else accepted his sugar coated apology and carried on with their day, a deep sigh of relief leaving his body, only for it to hitch half way through its exit as he felt a certain hand cupping round his bulge, eliciting a ragged and strangled grunt from him. His eyes darted down to you, whose eyelids were now half closed and glazed over with lust.

Your hand was not shy about what it wanted either, rubbing and squeezing over his trousers, he coughed hard and yanked your hand away. Good grief, had he known you were this lecherous when drunk he would've just gotten you to go to bar with him the first night he wanted you, instead of playing this game of flirting with you. He had sorely mistaken for a woman who cares about being classy and proper, but not you, no chance, you were just like him, always wanting a good time and feeling free in this world to do as your pleased. He liked this about you a lot, and come to think of it there was a lot about you he liked. Even now, with you slandering his name around the place and claiming to false achievements with him, it amused him.

However with every yank of your hand to keep it off his bulge, it just grew more persistent and determined. He sighed lowly when for the fifth time your hand slid down to his bulge and even squeezed his thigh slightly, you looked so desperate for him as he tugged you down several corridors ands between levels of the building to get to his office. But there it was, his office just down the hallway you were both in. "You're unbelievable woman." He spoke in a low husky tone, for he himself couldn't deny the arousal that was stirring inside him now, it would be impossible to still be calm after being groped so needy like by a beauty such as yourself. You giggled mischievously up at him, you were so intoxicated, but it only intensified the heat pooling at your core below.

His pace was becoming too hard for your drunken feet to match and you tripped up yet again, with quick reactions he turned on a dime to grab you but your weight fell on him again and made him stumble himself. After a tumble and trip, paired with simultaneous 'Oofs' from the both of you, you were in a very odd predicament. Yourself pressed against him while his back is leant up against the hallway wall. Silence took over leaving you and him to stare each other down without a word, just yours and his slightly heavy breathing could be heard now. Instinct took you over and you found yourself leaning up into him, your eyes closing as you began to kiss him with a frenzied and hot passion. Which he couldn't refuse anymore, returning the kiss with just as much if not more heated passion.

Your hands ran up his shoulders round his neck and into his hair, his hands snaking down your body and landing comfortably on your behind to squeeze at the soft flesh. Pressing you more into him till you were both locked in a fierce swap of saliva and needy groping. Muffled groaning and grunts escaped his lips, while soft whimpers and mewls left yours. All reason was leaving his head now, and yours had long since left the moment your lips touched your first alcoholic drink at 11am today. "Have you no shame woman?" He breathily questioned to you between kisses, to which you replied by simply kissing him back deeper and letting one hand leave his now messy ginger mop and squeeze at his bulge once again, which earned a hiss through frantic breaths from him. His eyes flashed something dangerous and taunting at you, but you were blissfully unaware.

"You're so bold when drunk Y/N." He mused between kisses again, before letting you reply however he bit your bottom lip and sucked onto it roughly; making a moan leave your mouth and entice a now puffy appearance to your bottom lip. He smirked down at you, he decided in that firey moment that you were to be his and no one else's. For how can he let such a dare devil slip through his fingers? You looked up into those animal like eyes, almost suffocating from the desire yearning in them and chuckled dropping to your knees. His eyes hungrily followed your lusty movements, biting his bottom lip in sheer excitement as he saw your hands unzipping his trousers and aiding in freeing his strained cock. It was pulsing and a thick bulging vien was made prominent along the entire length.

You made quick work in stroking up and down his shaft, a small sigh of gratitude seeping from him as his eyes closed and his head tilted back, at ease to just have some feeling of friction and movement against him now, your fingers squeezed and massaged round the hard muscle that throbbed with anticipation before your very eyes. He was a delicious size. You wasted no more time, swallowing down his length, a strangled moan leaving his lips now; to his surprise and your delight. "A-ah f-fuck!-" He was cut off by your sudden and intense sucking on him, your throat was so hot round him and he could feel himself slipping from his composure quick. He had no idea you were this skilled when it came to well, sucking dick.

You were looking nothing short of a cock hungry whore right now and he was falling more in love with you by the second. The sloppy and lewd sounds coming from your gagging throat as drool dripped from your chin onto the marble flooring of the banks hallways; you were taking him by the heart and further sealing your fate with him. Your jaw was already feeling like it was gonna seize up from becoming sore but you kept pushing forward. He opened his eyes finally and looked down at you, seeing your perfect rhythm you'd created to take in his cock so well. He licked his lip absent mindedly and grabbed onto your hair, trapping your head in place as he then began to thrust on his own accord into your mouth. "Such a sexy little slut you are." He hummed lowly.

You felt yourself burning up and growing more excited, through your intoxicated lust-fueled spur of the moment your fingers slipped between your clothing and pressed against your clit, it was soaking wet down there already and you were becoming insatiable. You began to tease yourself as he used your mouth to his own liking, he noticed your hand travel down and begin its magic and that's when he lost it. Where had you been his whole life? His thrusts picked up pace and became more forceful, coaxing more gagging and moans from you.

"We have to get back to our spots before the Harbinger notices we've been slacking on the job!" A faint voice growing louder cracked the passionate moment you both were drowning in. People's footsteps grew louder, they were getting closer and at a very fast rate too, running possibly. Your eyes widened and the look of horrified embarrassment flushed your cheeks. Childe looked down at you and smirked sinister like at you. Oh now you're worried what people might think? Was fine earlier when you were saying his voice was loud and his size was 'lacking.' He chuckled as your struggle to breath while you gag around him was evidence enough he was lacking in nothing.

However, he didn't want anyone to see you this way, this lusty and slutty view is for his bewitching stare alone. He wasn't opposed to people hearing you though... hmm. You didn't know how fast he could move till right now; as he lifted you over his shoulder and in a speed too quick to calculate- lunged and sprinted down the rest of the hallway to his office- oh yea, his office was so close already, if only you hadn't had stumbled over and got lost in your lust for just a moment longer.

The sound of his office door closing was all you needed to hear, sighing loudly and helping yourself to his desk as your new chair to sit on. Hearing the rapid steps and obscured figures blurring by, no doubt they were low ranking members such as yourself who'd been lounging about today not doing their duties correctly. If Childe hadn't moved so inhumanely quick just then they would've been welcome a to view that would probably scar them for years to come. He stood there beside the door, arms crossed, waiting till the steps grew so faint and then were gone, his eyes trailing back to you. A hunger for possession clutching at his very soul now.

You bad mouth about him to other workers and customers; you waltz into the bank drunk at barely midday, you rile him up by sucking on his cock so sweetly in the middle of the hallway, and then force him to unleash some of his foul legacy speed to get you and him to his office to prevent any further embarrassment. He loved you and your crazy antics, but he needed to punish you now, and make you realise who you belong to now and forever. So with those thoughts in mind he came over to you, not saying a word as he manhandled you on his desk, pulling your waist off so your feet touched the floor and turned you round so your chest was pressed against the cold wooden exterior.

He began to rub his length against your clothed area, his precum leaking uncontrollably now. He dug his fingers in and tore a hole open right at your entrance, exposing it to the sudden change of temperature making you yelp. "I'm lacking in size am I?" He dug his fingers into your hips, leaning down and planting loving kisses along your shoulder which clashed with rough squeezing and groping of your hips. "I think it's time you learnt." With that his hand stretched over you both turning the mic on right in front of your sprawled out form. His head prodding at your entrance now as you blushed hard and bit your lip roughly to try remain silent.

You had a dreadful feeling you knew what he was about to do, but deep down a part of you was begging for it to happen, somewhere inside you wanted this just as badly as he did, you loved him and his sadist tendencies, maybe you had a masochist side that was yet to reveal itself? But the thought of him claiming you on his desk right this moment made your brain go fuzzy and you were powerless, it would be useless to even attempt a protest now. All you could do was squirm and wriggle under his grip on you and wait like a captured prey in the claws of its predator.

"Good morning workers of Northland Bank, fellow Fatui members and our loving and much appreciated customers to this fine establishment, its me Tartaglia speaking right now, earlier on today you were forced to put up with an unfashionable ordeal by one of our Fatui lower ranks, I have her with me right now. I find it only fair you all get to listen to her be punished and put in her place, call it... compensation for making you put up with her embarrassing performance earlier. So sit back and enjoy the sounds of proper teaching to a rebellious employee." Spoken like a true sponsor boy.

Albedo

He couldn’t really believe his eyes when you stumbled over to his table and sat down heavily next to him, the scent of alcohol mixing with the gaudy perfumes and colognes of some of the Knights on the first floor. He couldn’t blame you for being barely coherent because the group was celebrating after all. It was quite charming to see you try and address your superior with some respect before babbling about something or other. You were rather touchy. I think the word to use would be bold, he wasn’t used to this from you. At first he shrugged it off as you being not really in the right mindset, he was reading too much into feelings that he wished were there.

The blonde started to feel a little down at that but kept a neutral face as you asked him a dirty question about ancient history.

“You know my area of study usually isn’t that.”

“Yeah but you have a lot of taxidermies of all the animals and stuff right?”

His eyebrows furrowed, “…Yes?”

“So you’re good at mounting things then~“

“That was horrible and you know it.” Albedo blushed a bit regardless, easily hiding the smirk that began to edge the tips of his lips up. He won’t laugh at such vulgarities he cares a little bit about his reputation after all.

His already rosey cheeks grew a shade darker as you whispered something raunchy about what kind of experiments he could do with you.

The blonde flushed harder when you leaned closer, crystalline eyes widening a little. His thoughts were already swimming because of the mandatory drink he’d been nursing up until now but your breath on his lips was giving him new highs he’d never experienced.

“…you’re drunk.” His words are soft, protesting even as his gaze followed your hands slinking up his leg with such focus it was almost like he was studying you in his tipsy haze of confusing emotions.

You chuckle lowly before rubbing gentle teasing circles into his upper thigh, you take note of the sharp inhale that comes from him before whispering. “So are you hotstuff.”

He swallowed thickly as he prepared to stutter something else only to find a groan escaping his throat, he had only looked away for a moment to meet your half lidded gaze and you’d snuck your hand up to his groin. Were his pants too small? It suddenly felt like there wasn’t enough space. It was so hot in the tavern suddenly, the air was clinging to his skin. He guessed you realized he was damn near about to fall over in shock, maybe the drinks he had were finally getting to him as well, because you were climbing into his lap, dropping your head into his shoulder and—

Oh…

Oh no feeling can quite match that first moment that rush of cold air hits his throbbing cock only to be met with the faintest touch from your fingers. He was going to die, he was gasping for breath, gasping for coherency long enough to remember your gorgeous face peering down at him. Albedo wanted to remember every moment but he also didn’t want to stop long enough even to breathe let alone grab his long abandoned sketchpad. He was so sensitive with your lips just hovering above his neck, fingers beginning to wrap him in a firm grip and tug. His thighs quaked under you but his own hands found purchase grabbing your ass to grip and squeeze. If this was what lust felt like he could get used to the blazing fire you’d stoked as you fondled him as well as your bodies pressed firmly together. You were so beautiful even if you were even less put together than he was, the shirt you’d shown off so cockily at the start of the night was askew and your pants were slowly rolling their way down your ass. The more he watched you the harder he felt, the better your fingers felt around his dick. He was gonna loose it.

Perhaps it was smart of him to be sitting in the upstairs corner of Angel’s Share, lest someone see the both of you grinding against each other all night with tongues so far down each other’s throat you may as well be fucking.

Then again everyone else was smashed as well, especially downstairs.

I have to remember to ask for a proper date…Albedo thought distantly as he picked you up and laid you on the table.

Diluc

The redhead didn’t have anything to drink that night, as per usual. You could tell he was in a bit of a bad mood but was humoring everyone given how happy they all were. That was the only reason that rather than be stuck behind the bar he was sitting against the wall trapped on a table with you to his right, wasted beyond belief and with the likes of the knights of Favonius caging him in on all sides. They had tried to start conversation with him but as soon as they’d started really drinking he’d given up on trying to talk to them. The only actually amusing person was you and you’d wandered off to the bathroom about 15 minutes ago after giggling away with Kaeya for much longer than he believed necessary thank you.

You were pretty much the highlight of his night, being the only sane person for a mile so he could more than tolerate you drunk. He thought the way you slurred was adorable. It helps that you’re about half as serious as he is on a good day and have twice the drive for justice he does on your worst so he’s quite taken by you.

Not that you’d ever know from the constant brief worried glances at the door to the tavern. Surely you weren’t so drunk you’d lost your way to the outhouse?

The first feeling of your fingers on his thighs made him jump a little but he relaxed as you held him. His eyes shot down to burn holes into the table, only noticing your gloves pressing into his thigh, massaging along his muscle and playing with how much give the small bit of fat gave it. You bet his skin was smooth. It confused him quite a bit but the others at the table didn’t seem to think anything of it, you must’ve been careful in not touching anyone as you inched your way over or they were in on it. When did you get back? He hadn’t seen you sneak past him… unless…His crimson eyes briefly met Kaeya’s as he searched the table and he glared something vicious as the suave captain merely smirked before looking away.

“I—“ His accusation was cut off by you fiddling with the buttons on his trousers. Diluc’s had moved so fast to grab yours you’d have thought he was mid battle.

You were both really still for awhile until for whatever reason he loosened his grip, you figured that he was being distracted by someone what with the bout of shouting. There was liquid splashing down the opposite side of the table. That would explain it.

You made your move, easing his hand away. He was obviously nervous about anything like this— you doubted he’d ever had sex let alone done anything so risqué but even so…you wanted him bad and despite his weak attempt at a protest you could already feel him firmly under the fabric of his pants. You leaned foreword to give the tent in his pants a nice, long, agonizingly slow lick and then mouthed against it when you felt it twitch.

Diluc immediately grabbed the drink infront of him and downed it to drown the absolutely erotic noise that would’ve left him had he not. There was a look of surprise on the others’ faces but they were again distracted. It was a hectic night…

Surely no one would notice as he buried his face into his hands, desperately trying not to shift his hips into the feeling of you frenching his nethers like you were starving.

He felt like he might explode when he could feel you tracing the outline of his straining cock through his boxers with the tip of your tongue. On some level instinct took over and he widened his legs for you to lean into it more. Somewhere in the back of his mind he got why people went so crazy for this sort of thing, the danger of it all was not too different from battle in some respects. Though he’d actually die of embarrassment of someone so much as leaned over slightly because at the moment your only saving grace was that pretty much everyone else had had their fill of drink and were still engrossed in whatever problem had happened earlier. That pang of arousal sent flushes to his face, his blush spreading down to his chest before he could control it. His teeth started to dig into his lip when you sucked harshly out of nowhere.

“Oh? Is Master Diluc a lightweight?” You heard one of your companions from Liyue, Keqing you think, ask in concern after the commotion had died down a little. You heard it faintly somewhere above you (Thankfully she wasn’t leaning over because otherwise she certainly wouldn’t see you swirling your tongue around the head of his boner) and had to stifle a giggle when he could only shake his head. You were being a bit mean even if it was cute to hear all the little noises that did manage to escape his lock lips so you attempted to pull away and let him breathe. Attempted. His hand wrapped itself into your hair, pulling you back as his hips shifted towards you sutbly.

“I-I’ll be fine, thank you— I just haven’t eaten just yet.”

“Ah I see that’s good. Do be careful not to drink too much.”

Diluc had made the mistake of thinking he could breathe for a moment, he realized he was wrong when he felt the warmth of your actual literal mouth slowly engulfing him. His grip in your hair tightened considerably but you noticed he was still coherent enough to be somewhat concerned about holding you too tight. Unacceptable. His weight on your tongue, throbbing gently against your tongue and slipping down your throat all of it felt like something out of one of those trashy fantasies you have before bed every odd night. It was when you reached his base, gripping his tensed thighs and listening to his harsh breaths that you heard the others all shuffle out of their seats and bid Diluc goodnight.

Were you too loud?

“Lisa you should really slow down— It’s dawn!” You heard her heels and saw Jean’s rush over to help keep her from stumbling across the wooden floors.

“Nonesense I’ll— I’ll be fine just help me home darling…”

Their voices faded out so you made a move to pull off and climb into his lap before he stopped you with a harsh push back onto his dick. You squeezed his thigh in some effort to communicate with him— it was getting a bit hard to breathe now what with his rod practically in your lungs but he didn’t budge until you heard the smooth taunt from Kaeya as he shut the Tavern door.

When he peered down between his fingers in a hasty move to ignore the brat (he was guilty about it but he wanted to somewhat preserve the mood) and he actually saw you…he had felt warm for you before but he knew he was going to be at your door many nights after this one.

Once it slammed shut you knew you were in for it. There was a sense of relief from Diluc before he hissed sharply as you pulled off of him finally, massaging your jaw. It had started to ache after so long stuck like that and it didn’t help he certainly wasn’t the smallest you’d ever seen either.

You peered up from underneath him, eyes meeting his. “I—“

You didn’t get a moment to even make a witty comment because he had pulled you to your feet, pushed you onto the bench and had basically pinned you to it. Between him grinding, practically slipping against your ass, his fingers already digging through your pants like he was searching for treasure as well as his fiery kisses you’re fairly certain that you might not be able to last long.

His hands were bruising on your hips but you were sure your legs around his were holding just as tightly against him. You drove him crazy on the daily and tonight had settled it for him, you were his and he was going to show you just how much attention your constant teasing had earned from him.

You’re not going to be explaining the hickeys on his neck tomorrow to your superiors.

[chokiipng]

Hay fever : Genshin various

a/n : suffering from seasonal allergies isn't fun . so instead of trying to do school work, i'm gonna write hcs to make myself feel better

character(s) : Xiao, Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Childe contents : fluff with a bit of crack (my specialty) + : reader has really bad seasonal allergies

Xiao :

he doesn't really understand tbh

he plays it off as a common cold at first and entrusts you with Verr, much to her annoyance. he didn't realize the true severity of the situation until a week had passed.

he's heard of seasonal allergies before, so it's not like he was entirely clueless, he just didn't know how to go about treating it.

because of this, he turned into a big ball of concern for the entirety of spring

he asked everyone he could for help, even that ginger haired harbinger (to which he had no clue since he basically lives on an iceberg)

this also happened to peek Zhongli's interest, who then took him to Bubu pharmacy to learn more. it took Xiao about 5 different interrogations to actually visit Bubu, he cursed himself internally for not checking there in the first place

of course, Baizhu laughed it off and informed the both of them on how allergies work, how they're triggered, and how to prevent/soothe them

if you sneezed/sniffled, he was immediately by your side with a tissue and some water. itchy eyes, he had a small bottle of eyedrops for you courtesy of Dr. Baizhu and Qiqi

it was amusing to say the least, watching a feared Yaksha running around frantically in order to soothe your allergies

of course, he soon picked up that it was because you went outside every goddamn day to complete commissions and to pick flowers for who knows who (Qiqi, you often found yourself picking herbs with her because who could say no to that face?)

he legit locked you in your room at Wangshuu Inn and did your commissions for you. he didn't want you in any pain, so he stayed with you when he finished all of his tasks

he didn't isolate you though, but if he takes you out he makes sure you take your allergy medicine (given by Qiqi, ty bby) and that you have a mask on

Diluc :

he never really experienced hay fever, but he knows the gist of it

he's heard stories of it from customers of the Angel's Share and was immensely grateful to the Archons for blessing him with immunity to seasonal allergies

but he wasn't prepared to catch you practically sneezing your guts out one morning

Diluc drops everything, much to Adelinde's horror, and orders for a box of tissues and water immediately. he whips out the blankets from under the couch that he knew you hid and props you on some pillows he fluffed in a panicked rush

the maids watch with a nervous chuckle as he runs around the mansion, completely forgetting about his shift at the Angel's Share and his nightly heroic duties

as soon as he calms down from the initial shock of how hard allergies hit you, he asks you how your feeling and if he can do anything

the next day he asks Donna (who stutters at his mere presence), who mind you is an employee at the Floral Whisper, since Flora isn't there herself about hay fever. he figured that people who worked at a flower shop would know about allergies caused by the pollen produced by flowers

he brings back medicine that you've been instructed to take daily as to lessen the affects of your allergies

despite his day duties, he offers to take up your daily commissions during the days you are physically unable to do them or just does them of his own volition

he trusts that the maids will take care of you in his stead

in the mean time, you're allowed to roam the city as you wish, but that's about it. he threatened Lawrence and Swan that they would feel the wrath of retribution if you stepped foot outside the city

Mondstadt was a land of eternal springtime, there was no way in hell he was letting you out of the city without his supervision

while all of this may be a bit much, he makes sure to let you know that this is just him caring for you. he doesn't want to seem overbearing and trusts that you know what's happening to your body and how to treat it

Kaeya :

he laughs at your demise

what did you expect ?

but he really is worrying on the inside

he makes sure to check in with Barbara just to make sure that you're not suffering from a lethal disease

once he knows that they're just seasonal allergies, (almost) all his worries subside and he sighs of relief

he notifies Jean beforehand (but sometimes forgets), he works considerably less during the time of your allergies since he doesn't really trust anyone else to take care of you

he also doesn't drink as much, surprising, he knows

he refrains from bringing you flowers as he usually does and instead spoils you with unnecessary affection

Kaeya doesn't worry as much since he puts faith in you that you know what's going on in your body. since they're seasonal allergies, he realizes that you must've gone through this before and know how to treat it

since you can't really cure it, you just act more cautious in the outdoors

he often accompanies you on your daily commissions and such, just to be sure that your okay. he takes over the moment you pause to sneeze or itch your nose even once

aside from this, he's the other reason why your allergies are unbearable

once they're all done and over, he teases you relentlessly about how reliant you were on him when in reality it was him doing your tasks of his own volition rather than you asking him. you told him several times that you could handle it, but he persisted nonetheless

he's more reasonable during your hay fever, and despite his unnecessary comments, you find it endearing

Albedo :

he is among the few men who are actually calm during the situation, but since when is he not?

he probably already has a remedy for you that greatly lessens the affect of your allergies

but even without it, he trusts that you know how to handle it

the only factor in here that would cause chaos-

is Klee

once Klee hears you sneeze all hell breaks loose in Albedo's workspace

she runs around everywhere looking for tissues and then ends up bringing Mondstadt's entire supply, which you and Albedo laugh nervously at

once Klee calms down, you explain the bare minimum of hay fever, which she manages to understand

while he has faith that you can treat it yourself, Albedo still recommends that you stay inside more rather than going out exploring and looking for chests, to which you sheepishly comply

Jean cannot thank you enough when it comes to Klee's behavior during this season, as Klee tends to spend more time at home with you and Albedo once you finish your commissions so that "you don't feel lonely!"

she even drew you a picture to show how much she cared!

if you can't sleep at night because of your allergies, Albedo (who is probably still up working) will gladly allow you to indulge in his studies or to just simply read with you until you fall asleep

he too is also happy that you managed to tame Klee

Childe :

this man has no idea what the fuck hay fever is

need I remind you that he grew up in the land of perpetual winter, hay fever doesn't even exist to him. unlike everyone else, he hasn't even heard of the concept

so when you hold a finger up during your weekly sparring, he pauses with a curious tilt of his head

he screams in horror as you sneeze out all of your bodily fluids not once, not twice, but three times

Childe calls off the spar and cradles you in your arms as if you're about to die

it's until he rushes you to Baizhu in a panicked frenzy that he realizes that its...a fever?

now Baizhu is a patient man, he had to raise a zombie child who basically loses her memory each time she wakes up and wields a sword/cryo abilities

but he was getting tired of Childe's endless questions quick.

Childe shrieks as the normally passive pharmacist slams his hands down on the counter with a sickeningly sweet smile

he ceases in his questions, apologizes for bothering him, and races back to the Northland Bank in a cold sweat

it takes you explaining it in a calm voice for him to finally understand it

and he takes this very seriously

while he knows that it's seasonal and that you've gone through it before, he can't help but worry for you

he coddles you, and he doesn't relent even if you tell him

he slaps a mask on you, takes away your fighting privileges, and even order his subordinates to keep an eye on you at all times

that is if he's not already

he clings

he's attached to you

he just wants you to feel better, and you appreciate it, but it can get a little too much sometimes

and while you do tell him this, the same situation happens every year when spring comes around and there's nothing you can do to stop it. Baizhu can't catch a break from the rowdy harbinger

[genshin-impact-writings]

May I request a songfic for Wicked Game for Childe x reader? Like, he's in love with the reader but he keeps pushing them away because he feels like it makes him weak etc. Can have a sad or happy ending, whichever you prefer! ❤️

I'm so, so sorry for the long wait, dear! But I couldn't decide where I wanted to go with this, so I kept working on other requests but it's finally done. I really hope you're still interested in this and like what I came up with. I decided to write a more happy ending because I wasn't in the mood for making it angsty, hope you don't mind that. Anyway, have fun reading and take care! <3

Btw, I listened to this version of the song while I was working on this.

Wicked Game – Tartaglia/Childe x gn!reader

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you It's strange what desire will make foolish people do I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

The day he had met you was one he would never forget. With nothing more than a single glance and a soft smile you somehow had flipped his whole world upside down, a world he had carefully constructed around himself when he became the Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers. It was almost funny, really. No one had ever managed to throw him for a loop, not even the strongest enemies he had to face on the battlefield – until he had stumbled upon you on that fateful day in Liyue Harbor. Suddenly, nothing he knew before seemed to make sense anymore. And after a few seconds of staring at you, he realized that he was irretrievably lost.

Lost in the way you smiled at him and the other customers that came to the small tea shop you worked at. Lost in the way your pretty eyes gleamed in the pale light of the moon when he saw you after dark. Lost in the warmth and comfort he always felt when you were around.

And as the time progressed and weeks and months went by, Tartaglia understood that it was more than just a crush. He was so in love with you that it almost hurt him physically.

And yet, he knew that he couldn’t allow himself to feel like that. For someone like him, it was dangerous to care about someone, not only because his enemies would never miss an opportunity to hurt him by hurting the ones he loved but also because feelings like these were nothing more than a distraction, a hindrance that kept him from completely focusing on his missions. Tartaglia couldn’t afford messing up, not when he didn’t want to disappoint the Tsaritsa. After all, he had sworn an oath, an oath to always put her and her interests first, and he couldn’t do that when someone – when you were all he could think of. You were the first person who crossed his mind as soon as he woke up and the last one he saw before drifting off to sleep in the evening. It was wonderful and terrible at the same time, and yet, there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling deeper in love with you.

It would be smart to avoid you, hoping that these feelings would disappear someday but still, he found himself visiting the little tea shop you worked at every day. It was embarrassing, really, given the fact that he knew absolutely nothing about tea but instead of listening to you as you explained the tea varieties and different ways of preparation, he kept staring at you, taking in your beauty and indulging in the warm, fuzzy feeling that always welled up inside him when the two of you crossed paths.

And the fact that you seemed to like him too didn’t make things easier. It was so hard to pretend that he didn’t care for you, to push you away over and over again, but for the sake of your safety – and to protect his stupid, foolish heart from shattering into a million pieces – he needed to keep you at distance. He needed to be strong, not only for his homeland but also for you – he needed to protect you from himself and from the things he did in the past and would do in the future.

Even if it meant that he would end up alone again.

Even if it meant that he had to break your heart.

No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) With you With you

Tartaglia had started avoiding you one and a half weeks ago, not visiting the tea shop once and heading into the opposite direction as soon as he saw you on the streets, and still his heart started to beat faster when he thought about you or heard someone mention your name. He hated to act like this; he hated to hurt your feelings but what else could he do? You’d be better off without him, as well as he’d be better off without these distracting feelings.

At least, that was what he tried to tell himself.

And it worked surprisingly well – until he bumped into you on your way to work that morning. He hadn’t noticed you at first, or else he would’ve chosen another way to get to Northland Bank, but now it was too late to turn around and leave.

“I’m sorry,” he said, carefully avoiding your gaze as he helped you picking up your belongings that you had dropped. “I didn’t see you.”

Your lips curled into a soft smile. “It’s no big deal,” you replied. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you at the shop for a while.”

“Oh, about that…” He didn’t finish his sentence. It had been foolish to believe that you wouldn’t notice it. One time, you had even called out his name when you saw him near the shop, only to see him fobbing you off with a brief wave of his hand before turning around and leaving without giving you another glance. “Well…”

“You’re probably bored by my rambling about tea, huh?” you guessed, still smiling at him like you were really glad to see him again. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended if you are.”

“No, that’s not – that’s not the case.”

Your eyes were twinkling in amusement, and before he could look away again, he suddenly found himself staring into your eyes, his stupid heart skipping a beat as your smile grew wider. “That’s good to know,” you said softly. “But I was thinking… maybe we could meet up later, I mean, when – when the shop’s closed. You know, like-“

“Like a date,” he finished your sentence, his mouth suddenly so dry that he barely managed to get the words out. No, no, no, this couldn’t be true. How was he supposed to reject you when you asked him for a date, looking at him with his hopeful expression in your eyes? Just how?

“If you don’t want to that’s fine, too,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Tartaglia chuckled. “If I don’t want to?” he repeated and shook his head in disbelief. “Oh, (Y/N), I’d love to go out with you.” The words were out before he could stop himself. He knew that it wasn’t right, that he should take it back right now but as soon as he saw the genuine happiness in your eyes, he knew that there was no way back. And, if he was completely honest for a second, he didn’t want that anyways.

“I’ll pick you up at your house at – um, let’s say, tomorrow at 8?”

“Perfect.”

What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you

He didn’t show up.

Once again, you darted a nervous glance at the clock above the table, probably for the millionth time today. It was already half past 9 and Tartaglia was nowhere to be seen. An hour ago, you had tried to calm yourself down by telling yourself that he would be here any second now, that he was held up by someone or something but now, it was hard to think positive.

With a quiet sigh, you plunked yourself down on the couch. Tartaglia had stood you up, and it was stupid to deceive yourself by trying to tell you otherwise. He obviously had no interest in going out with you, it was easy as that. Perhaps he had only agreed in the first place because he didn’t know how to tell you No, or maybe he had fun going around and making others feel absolutely miserable.

You didn’t know, and you didn’t care.

No, that was actually a lie. You cared. You wanted to know what was wrong, why he wasn’t here with you right now and why he had started to act like you weren’t even friends anymore about two weeks ago. Overnight, he had changed his behavior completely, starting with not visiting the tea shop anymore through to blatantly ignoring you whenever your paths crossed. But no matter how hard you tried to make sense of it, you simply didn’t understand it.

And the fact that he invited you on a date, only to stand you up, confused you even more. His behavior made no sense at all, whichever way you looked at it.

You sighed again. In the beginning, your relationship had been so easy. You never had any trouble understanding him and you had always assumed that he liked to spend time with you. Heck, for a while you had even thought that he returned the feelings you had for him.

But apparently, he didn’t.

You buried your face in your hands, trying to fight back the tears that were welling up in your eyes. What kind of game was he playing? Did he even realize how much his behavior hurt you?

And I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) No, I don't wanna fall in love (this world is only gonna break your heart) With you

“You! Stop right there!”

Tartaglia froze as he heard your angry voice. For a brief moment, he considered acting like he hadn’t heard you and just walk on by but deep down, he knew that he owed you an apology and an explanation why he hadn’t shown up to your date almost one week ago. The truth was that he really had wanted to go out with you – but at the same time, he had seen the opportunity to make you hate him by standing you up which would hopefully help him to get over you.

So much for that, he thought to himself as he slowly turned around to you. You were staring at him, your eyes filled with pent-up anger. “I was convinced you’d ignore me again,” you said, arms akimbo. “But it seems you’ve finally gathered the courage to talk to me after you skipped out on me last week.”

“Yeah, about that-“

“Stop,” you interrupted him. “I don’t want to hear your half-assed apologies. I just want you to listen to what I have to say.”

He pressed his lips together and nodded. In all this time he had never seen you so angry and it was obvious that you were about to release a tirade but he knew very well that he deserved it. He deserved that you didn’t even give him the change to explain himself.

You huffed at the contrite expression on his face. “I’m not going to fall for that,” you warned him. “So don’t even try.”

Tartaglia nodded again, still not saying anything, just as you had told him.

“Great. Listen, I really don’t want to steal your precious time,” you replied in an undertone of utter sarcasm, “I just want to understand what’s going on. We’re friends, aren’t we? Damn, my silly self even thought that we could be more than that for a second but that’s not – that’s not the point now. I only want to know why you treat me like I am not in the least important to you all of a sudden.”

When he didn’t reply anything, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Hello? Haven’t you got a tongue in your head?”

“I don’t know what you want to hear, (Y/N).”

“The truth, Tartaglia,” you stated simply. “I don’t need any apologies or justifications. Just the truth.”

Tartaglia shook his head. There was no way he could tell you the truth because then, he’d have to explain why he was so afraid of falling love, why he was so afraid of being weak. This was none of your business; it was his burden, not yours. You shouldn’t even worry about things like that; you should be in your shop, happily smiling at customers instead of wasting your time with someone like him.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you said when the silence between the two of you became unbearable, your voice shaking ever so slightly. “If you don’t want to be with me, just tell me. I can take it. But stop acting like you care, only to ignore me the day after! Stop pushing me around like that.”

Tartaglia was painfully aware of the fact that you were on the verge of tears. Everything about your posture told him that you were about to lose your composure, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to say something. He knew that he had treated you like garbage, that he had hurt your feelings over and over again but what was he supposed to do now? There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to turn back time and wipe the slate clean.

“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered, completely helpless, while you stood there with hanging shoulders as tears started to stream down your beautiful face. “I’m so sorry.”

“I should’ve known better,” you sobbed. “I should’ve known better than to fall in love with someone like you!”

In that moment, he felt his protective instinct kick in. It didn’t matter that he had promised himself to stay away from you or that he was the reason for your tears. All he wanted now was to comfort you, to reassure you that everything would be fine again.

In an instant, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his body, his hands gently caressing your back as you buried your face in his chest. “Don’t cry,” he mumbled, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “Please, darling, don’t cry.”

He held you close, uttering apology after apology and patiently waiting for you to calm down. When you finally pulled away, your eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. Your lower lip was trembling, almost as if you were trying to fight back even more tears. “I hate you.”

“I know,” Tartaglia replied softly and reached out to brush a strand of hair from your forehead. “I deserve that.”

“I don’t really hate you,” you whispered.

“I know,” he repeated and cupped your face with both hands, gently wiping away the tears on your cheeks before he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours in a soft, almost chaste kiss. It didn’t last long, and yet it was enough to make him realize that being in love with you didn’t make him weak. It made him strong.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.

[lunaastoir]

“maybe someday”

childe x gn! traveler! reader

i had this little idea stuck in my head and i had to get it down,,, i’ve been having sm childe brainrot recently and i’d like to chalk it up to the fact that it’s due to his banner but i’m 99% sure it’s bc im a simp 😔🙏

anyways!!! angst down below - enjoy <3

this is set before childe’s story quest

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

it wasn’t supposed to go like this. it was a simple errand - the tsaritsa wanted him to check up on things in mondstadt, so he decided to visit zhongli on the way. simple. so, so, simple. right? 

then why was he up on the rooftop of bubu pharmacy, frozen in place, while he watched you laugh merrily down below. he hated to imagine what he must have looked like in that moment; lips parted, azure eyes widened, cheeks softly flushed. the chill of the night air harshly snapped him back to his senses as he mentally chided himself. if he was caught in liyue, he was as good as dead. he couldn’t afford to be distracted, he’s a wanted war criminal after all. quietly cursing, he softly padded his way across the tiles, mentally counting down the distance to the edge of the building. just a little more and he could blend into the mountains while sprinting toward wangsheng funeral parlor. he kept his eyes trained in front of him, refusing to take a good look at you. idiot, idiot, idiot he cursed internally. just a foot more and he would be free. the urge to run at you wouldn’t be so heartachingly strong if he could just cross that foot of distance. 

another loud laugh and he immediately stopped. loudly exhaling through his nose, he struggled with his desires. one last time he whispered. i’ll give myself one last time. his head turned towards you in defeat. azure eyes greedily took in your features, the sweet curve of your lips, the gentleness of the wind against your hair, the twinkling eyes that seemed to reflect the brightness of stars while glistening with mirth. despite the way childe felt his heart wrench, he subconsciously felt the corners of his lips tug into a soft smile. you balanced qiqi in your arms, the little girl softly cuddling into you while holding a bouquet of freshly picked qingxin flowers. the peaceful expression adorning her face as she burrowed into the crook of your neck prompted you to gently run a hand down her back, lulling her to sleep. his smile only grew when he saw how you cared for the girl. you were happy he concluded, from the look of peace on your face. you were whispering in hushed tones to a woman, keqing was it? the wind carried some of your words as he made out “qiqi...qingxin flowers...xiao...was happy...picked more...back” ah. so that’s what happened. a soft giggle left your lips and he watched you slowly start walking back into the bustle of the city, leaving him alone on the rooftop.

the serene expression on his face melted, leaving behind a dull ache in his chest. when he went back to snezhnaya following the acquisition of the gnosis, he couldn’t help but feel... distressed? perplexed? uneasy? no, no those weren’t the words. guilty. that’s what he felt. the guilt gnawed at his insides, growing in size whenever word of liyue reached his ears. not guilt for what he’d done to liyue - don’t mistake him for a righteous man. guilt for what he’d done to you. paimon’s words echoed in his mind, “that’s not how most people make friends is it?” no, it isn’t. he admitted he was unconventional. as a harbinger, it’s his duty to sweet talk others and exploit them to fulfill the tsaritsa’s will. yes, he does occasionally feel bad when something nasty transpires, however, he comes home, wipes the blood off, and does it again the next day. he’s found that not dwelling on the sins of his past keep him sane. but that day, in the icy coldness of his homeland, he felt a different ice than what he was accustomed to. it settled into his bones, and wormed it’s way into his heart. he remembered saying, “i hope we can still be friends” along with the expression on your face when he uttered those words. the betrayal etched with reigned in fury burned it’s way into his mind, searing the consequences of his actions forever. you never were just a friend to him, were you?

childe is many things - a war criminal, a liar, a manipulator, the list goes on. however, dense is not one of them. the minute he could feel himself thinking of you outside of the times you met - when he was doing paperwork at the northland bank, when he got dinner and realized he got your favorite dish, when he picked out a trinket he might like to give to you - he knew he was in over his head. the pit of dread that formed in his stomach only grew with every passing day as he told his subordinates to watch your every move - he needed the location of the exuvia after all. he felt his heart break with every relaxed gesture you made. the roll of your eyes, the hint of a smile when he teased you. he was breaking down your barriers while slowly getting you to trust him - he was accomplishing his goal. but with every “i can’t eat with chopsticks ojou-chan, will you help me” and “i saw this, it reminded me of your smile” he wanted to scream at you to push him away so the inevitable betrayal would hurt less. so he wouldn’t have to live with only the memory of your anguished face forever.

the truth is, it never would have worked out. you wormed your way into his heart in a matter of a few short weeks, where you would reside there for eternity. even if he had broken your walls to the point where you perhaps might have felt the same way, it was over before it began. you were on the tsaritsa’s wanted list, and he was her favorite soldier.

as he finally makes his way over to the edge of the building, tracing his steps onto the mountain, he wonders if you would give him a second chance. if things might be different if he tried again. if you would let him into your life once more, just so he could see you sometimes. 

but he knew, no matter how much he wanted to be yours, he could never have you. for you were the earth, and he was the moon who would always darken your days. 

[ceciliablossoms]

tiramisu for diluc albedo and childe pleasee pelapdepleasepleaselplz

Of course!!

ALSO TYSM @nonbiananrywrites FOR YOUR HELP ILY

I did however choose to go easy on them

TW: Injury, Anxiety, Panic, Blood

Tiramisu: "Deep breaths... You'll be okay."

-------

Diluc

Anxiety was nothing new to them, especially when it came to Diluc and his role as the Darknight Hero. He mostly came home unscathed, but the rare injury often sent an icy panic through their veins. Even if the aforementioned wound were to be minuscule at most, it would still cause them great worry.

His bloody clothing often reminded them that he could one day never return home. Even with the occasional help of the Traveller on his side, their worries continued to eat away at them from the inside. The gash across his arm that stayed limp at his side was the straw that broke the camel's back.

When he entered the winery, exhaustion prevalent, they approached him with haste. Immediately, they ushered him to take a seat, offering to make him a meal, but as they pulled their hand away from resting on his arm it felt sticky. They glanced down at their crimson-stained palm with wide eyes.

It took them a moment to process as they stared at the red that coated the fingers. The warmth of it seemed to burn them as their panic set in. Their eyes began to water.

They demanded that he remove his jacket so that they could tend to his wound. As they gathered their supplies their hands trembled with fear. While they tenderly dressed his wounds, they wept, their bottled up anxiety finally spilling out.

As hard as they tried not to make a noise, they could not prevent themselves from sniffling.

Once their tears dripped onto his bandages, Diluc pulled his arm away, and with great care, he placed his uninjured hand gently on their cheek. With slow, careful movements, he guided them to look up at him, and they averted their eyes. As they let out a sob, he pulled them closer, embracing their shaking form as they cried.

His voice was quiet when he spoke to them, knowing why they were upset, "Deep breaths... You'll be okay."

There was a pause before they responded. "But you won't." Their voice broke as they spoke, clutching his shirt in their hands.

He hummed quietly as he glanced over the arm that they had bandaged, a frown everpresent on his face. He stared down at them softly as they grew overwhelmed.

They were afraid for him, and he knew it. He had always known it even when they had tried to conceal it. The emotions they'd tried to keep under wraps had begun to seep out, and as they tried so desperately to stop it from overflowing it slipped between their fingers.

"I'll make more of an effort to keep myself from getting injured again. Even if it means... I have to ask for help...." They stared at him in surprise.

Though his verbal reassurances weren't very much in terms of comfort, him swallowing his pride certainly was. Even if the help was from just the honorary knight, they'd be happy. He would at the very least have someone watching his back.

They smiled through their tears, "Promise?"

He nodded in sincerity but let out a small sigh. "Promise."

-

Albedo

They sighed, stumped once more as they worked on their experiment with Sucrose. Something just wasn't right. No matter how many times they redid it the outcome was always different, even if it was done the exact same way down to a T.

They exchanged glances of disappointment with Sucrose as the two looked over their notes once more. Usually, the liquid in the vials in front of them at the very least changed colour. This time it didn't do anything! No colour change. No heat or steam was produced. It didn't even bubble.

They were at their wit's end, despite their work partner's eagerness to continue. Running a hand through their hair, they glanced over their ingredients on the table, neat and organized in their respective alchemical devices and containers.

"Maybe we should ask Albedo?" They proposed. Sucrose looked up from the messy notebook in her hands.

"P-Perhaps you're right." She looked slightly disheartened that neither of them could figure out a solution but also relieved that they suggested grabbing Albedo for assistance before they made a big mess of it.

They'd stepped out momentarily to find the blonde alchemist as Sucrose continued to fiddle with the experiment.

On their hunt they found him browsing the library, searching high and low for a book he seemed to be struggling to pinpoint the location of. At the sound of familiar footsteps, he turned his head to peer over at them. He nodded in greeting as they waved at him with a smile.

"Albedo, could I perhaps trouble you for some assistance? Sucrose and I can't seem to figure out where we're going wrong." They kept their voice down as to it disturb the other people in the library.

"Of course. What is it that you're having trouble with?" He approached them as they led the way back to the alchemy lab.

"Well, the outcome is always different even if we replicate it perfectly. We don't know what the issue is."

"I see." He put his hand on his chin, deep in thought as they opened the door for him.

As the two entered, Sucrose stood over the beaker with a proud expression, "I-I managed to get a reaction out of it even though this one this one w-was different too."

They approached with Albedo following behind. As he stood on the other side of Sucrose, they picked it up carefully with the curious examination. This vial had become a peculiar shade of green and fizzed like it were a carbonated drink. It emitted an odd odour when they swirled the liquid inside.

"What did you do differently?" They asked as they held it up to eye level.

As Sucrose opened her mouth to speak the vial seemed to heat up rapidly. They let out a small whine and switched hands before setting it down entirely. Albedo was quick to move after that, pulling Sucrose away roughly and making a grab for them as the liquid reacted violently causing the glass to explode into shards.

Covering their face, they yelped as glass pierced their skin, Albedo not quite having reached them. They moved their arms, staring down at the glass embedded in them with widened eyes. Albedo kneeled to their level after telling Sucrose to fetch a medical kit.

They were breathing heavily whether, from pain, panic, or both was indecipherable at the moment. His top priority was to remove the glass. As Sucrose handed him the kit, she moved to clean the workspace and dispose of the mess.

He stood them up and moved them to a table across the room where he removed the glass with tweezers. Thoroughly, he cleaned their injuries, muttering a few words to them as they shook in his grasp.

"Deep breaths... You'll be alright."

His voice was soothing as they focused on it to distract from the stinging in their forearms. He'd fully removed and disposed of all the glass and was now focusing on cleaning any hazardous material out to prevent infection. It wasn't as efficient as it would have been if he'd taken them to see Barbara, but when dealing with things as hazardous as these, it was more pressing to clean it on site.

Gingerly, he staunched the bleeding as Sucrose tossed the shards into the bin before scurrying out hurriedly to go get Barbara. He wrapped their arms with bandages.

"Sucrose will return shortly with Barbara, so she can help you more efficiently." He kept his voice quiet so he wouldn't startle them.

They nodded as they leaned against him, but said nothing. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around them to keep them steady as their panic began to wear off. They seemed tired.

"Thank you," Their voice was groggy.

"Of course, dearest."

-

Tartaglia

Frigid rain burned their skin as they stared out at the serpentine beast rising from the ocean. Everyone around them froze, staring out at the monster that summoned the storm. Panic broke out amongst the crowd as the situation finally sank in and the citizens of Liyue scurried to either get inside.

They backed away from the docks slowly as the rain increased in intensity, pelting them painfully. As they made their way through the harbour, they got jostled left and right by others pushing past them. The overwhelming feeling made them panic, their anxiety skyrocketing.

There were so many people around them in hysterics, looking for loved ones, searching for family. Loved ones... Where was Childe? Their stomach dropped.

--

Despite their emotions, they pushed onward, refusing to stop until they found their significant other. They knew that he could handle himself and were 100% certain that he was fine. Yet, they couldn't help but feel like something was wrong.

High and low they searched for him. All across the harbour, they hunted for him, coming up empty-handed. Even with the occasional call of his name, they got nowhere.

As they came to a stop at the entrance of the harbour, their panic grew tenfold. As they crossed the bridge leading to Guili Plains, they saw a familiar mixture of grey and red upon the cliffside.

They broke into a sprint, calling out his name with urgency. He was staring out at the God that wreaked havoc, an almost triumphant expression across his face. At the sound of his name, he turned his head to them.

Immediately he stood to meet them, and his expression turned to one of pain. He wasn't bleeding but the hand clutching his side as well as his face showed very clearly that he was hurt. They clung to him, faltering when he made a pained noise at the impact of their embrace.

They tensed, "W-We need to get inside! A-And you're hurt."

They grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back to the Harbour. He could feel them shaking, the cold probably not helping their frazzled state. Coming to a stop, he pulled them to his chest.

He rubbed their back gently as they struggled to breathe evenly, "Deep breaths... You'll be okay."

He watched the chaos unfold over their shoulder, knowing he'd eventually have to slip away to the Northland bank to meet with Signora. Nonetheless, though, he comforted them with reassuring words and touches.

They pulled away and dragged him along toward their home so they could care for him, "What happened?"

Their voice was laced with broken confusion. They had no idea what was happening, nor what had spurred it on and on top of it all their beloved was injured.

His response was delayed but he said something about getting tossed around in the crowd. In all honesty, they weren't listening, focusing solely on icing the bruises across this torso. They fidgeted anxiously.

He cupped their face, feigning the same anxious expression that they were showing outwardly. "It'll be okay," He vowed, "Hey, whatever that thing is out there will get dealt with."

They nodded shakily, finding some solace in his words as they leaned against him in tears. He held them close and stroked their hair, shielding them from the window. It wasn't until the Jade Chamber fell and the storm stopped that the weight of stress wiped them out.

Tag List: @fictionalcharactersthatsit @youaskedfurret @nagatorou @seiiblue @dai-tsukki-desu @dilucs-claymore @rainy-day-vibez @duhsies @tempehlust @somniomi

[hawksward]

Wolves in Sheep's Clothing Ch. 2: Your Heart is an Empty Room (Childe/OC)

Since being granted a vision at the tender age of 10, Irina has owed her life to the Tsaritsa and dedicated herself to rising through the ranks of the Fatui. In becoming a top-ranking diplomat she’s received her easiest assignment yet: ensure the 11th Fatui Harbinger remains ignorant of La Signora’s plan to obtain the gnosis of Rex Lapis. A simple task for someone who’s made a career out of lying.

Unfortunately, even the simplest tasks can go awry when feelings get in the way.

Rating: E (For eventual smut)

Warnings: None that I can think of for this chapter, there will eventually be smut

Two weeks had passed since Irina first arrived in Liyue. Signora was out of the city that night, gone to some other far-off place to complete her work. As for Zhongli? Since he hadn’t made any request pursuant to the contract she hadn’t seen him either.

Her days were mundane, filled with bank paperwork and pointless meetings with the Qixing to source where they hid the gnosis. Which she already knew they didn’t have. It was impossible to say when Zhongli would be satisfied with his end of the contract and until then she would keep up the song and dance to avoid suspicion by a certain ginger harbinger.

Who once again burst through her office door without the courtesy of knocking.

“I have a new recruit orientation at the docks and I need someone to come do the paperwork.” His expression was the same as always, a charming smile that never quite reached his eyes “Put down whatever you’re doing, we need to leave in five.”

Irina sighed before returning her attention to the stack of papers on her desk “I have a mountain of paperwork here, surely you can find someone else to handle the new recruits.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Childe’s hand slamming against the table. She looked up through her lashes to see the same fake smile at eye level.

“It’s not a request.” He walked around her desk and pulled out the chair with her still in it “With how pale you are you could use some time in the sun anyway.”

“First you give me all of your loan paperwork, now you want me to go do different paperwork down by the docks? It’s a task so simple a hillichurl could do it” Irina stood from her seat to look him in the eyes “a particularly stupid hillichurl.”

She watched as Childe’s smile only grew bigger

“Then it’s perfect for you.”

She didn’t have time to be offended before he shoved a clipboard in one of her hands and grabbed her other wrist, leading her down the staircase of the bank and out the door.

“Look at that.” Childe looked to the sky before looking back at Irina with a cocky smile “The sun’s out and you’re not even melting!”

“Ha. Hilarious.” She struggled to keep up as he continued to pull her by the wrist down to the docks “You must have women lining up for you.”

He chuckled

“Someone sounds jealous.”

“Not even slightly.”

——

The docks were bustling with midday activity, but the ship waving the Snezhnayan flag was easy enough to spot. Six Fatui skirmishers stepped off the boat, which Childe greeted enthusiastically before easing into a grand speech about serving the Tsaritsa.

Irina was left to sit on a crate and process six diplomatic visa applications for extended stays. It wasn’t lost on her how unglamorous her job was in comparison to Childe’s flaunting.

If she were more suited to combat she might have considered killing him for his position.

Unfortunately, life wasn’t fair. Although the Tsaritsa had blessed her with a cryo vision she was never really suited for combat. Over the course of her training with the Fatui it was clear that her talents were in shields and healing. She was probably one of the few Fatui vision users who didn’t end up in a combat position.

“Daydreaming on the job?” She looked up to see Childe hovering over her, a trail of new recruits behind him “We might have to consider docking your pay”

His frown was clearly fake. He was enjoying making her look incompetent in front of those who didn’t know any better.

“On the contrary, considering how long your speech took, I finished ages ago.” She shoved the stack of papers into his chest “If that’s everything Lord Tartaglia, I’ll be going back to the bank to finish my previous work.”

“Ah.” He held out an arm to stop her before turning his attention to the recruits “You there. Take these papers and file them with the milileth. They’re located in the gaudy building in the center of the city. You can’t miss it.”

Irina stared at him expectantly while the recruits followed the man holding their paperwork. She wasn’t sure why she was surprised that Childe had once again sent new arrivals off with zero directions.

“ We ” he emphasized “Aren’t going back to the bank. I have a business dinner that I want you to attend as well.”

Irina perked up. He was asking her to do a real task? Not just busywork? Surely there was a catch.

“You want me to attend?” She pointed at herself “You’re not going to make some grand statement about how you don’t need my help?”

“Not today” he laughed “I can’t tell if this particular business partner is immune to my charm or just isn’t into men. A more feminine touch might help.”

He wanted her to be a honey trap. Of course.

“It’s probably just you.”

——

Dinner was of course at one of the two nicest restaurants in town. Liuli Pavilion and Xinyue Kiosk were rivals for the higher-end business in Liyue Harbor. Even in her limited time in the city, Irina already heard ravings from the bank staff about how it was worth blowing some extra paycheck money. Her mouth was already watering at the prospect of a nice meal after eating from street carts since her arrival.

The moment she stepped through the door of Liuli Pavilion it was clear that Childe was flaunting his wealth. The rich woods paired with a gold inlay made it look like it was fit for royalty.

“Master Childe,” The host greeted him with a bow “Your private room is ready and your guest has already arrived. Please, allow me to escort you to your table.”

Childe gave her a wink before following the host down the hall and to a secluded part of the restaurant.

“Apologies for the tardiness, I brought a friend.”

Irina turned the corner into the room to see a familiar face sitting at the table.

Mr. Zhongli.

For just one moment, the surprise was written all over her face. Childe knew exactly what Signora was up to. That she was just a proxy. She was going to lose her job. Her life.

She pulled herself together, a smile crossing her features

“It’s a pleasure sir, my name is Aster. I’m an associate of Childe’s at the Northland Bank.” She moved across the room to the seat next to Zhongli, who rose to meet her and pulled out her chair “And he’s a gentleman” she flashed a smile to Childe, whose expression was of course, unreadable.

“The pleasure is mine.” Zhongli returned to his seat “My name is Zhongli, I’m a consultant at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.” he directed his attention to Childe “When you mentioned you may have a guest I assumed it would be the traveler again.”

Childe took his seat next to Irina at the large, round table “I happen to associate with more than one other person.”

The conversation was mundane, but pleasant enough as the trio waited for the food to arrive. It was a common skill in the Fatui to be able to carry the conversation while still saying nothing of importance. Irina did her best to pepper in some flirtatious side glances and arm touches to Zhongli whenever it was clear Childe was watching.

Not like Zhongli looked remotely interested.

Then again she wasn’t exactly putting in the effort either.

Plate after plate of food arrived at the table. It was clearly a show of extravagance from Childe. Although she couldn’t quite tell if it was meant for Zhongli or to remind her that he was the top agent in Liyue and had the mora to prove it.

Irina didn’t hesitate before taking a bite of the first plate she could reach. Sure enough, everything on the table was delicious. She chatted with Zhongli as the two went from plate to plate, marveling at the chef’s expert use of spices. Until she noticed that Childe had eaten nothing.

She looked over to see him grossly misusing his chopsticks. Every time he managed to get them into position, one would slip through his fingers or collapse onto the other.

Irina let out a sigh, moving closer to him in her chair “Here, let me help.” she reached out her hands, gently touching his fingers before he immediately recoiled.

“What are you doing?” he demanded

“Helping. If you keep holding your chopsticks like that you’re going to starve to death.”

“I’ve got it.” he pulled his hand away from her, still fiddling with the two foreign objects in his hand.

“If you insist.” she moved back to the center of her chair, clearly ignoring the struggles of the man next to her.

The rest of the meal was painfully uncomfortable. Irina and Zhongli spent the rest of the time doing their best to ignore Childe as he frequently dropped food short of his mouth. By the time they had finished, she wanted nothing more than to go back to her hotel room and pretend the whole thing never happened.

Except maybe for a clever jab here and there.

“It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Zhongli, I hope we meet again in the future.”

“As do I, Miss Aster. Allow me to escort you back to your hotel, it’s gotten dark since we’ve arrived.” Zhongli held open the door for both Irina and the suspiciously quiet Childe to exit.

“Oh thank you, but you really-”

“I’ve got it from here. After all, she is my subordinate and I’d hate to see anything happen to her.” Childe was back to his normal, cheerful demeanor. Although that just seemed to unsettle her even more.

“Of course. Have a pleasant evening, both of you.”

Childe waved as Zhongli disappeared from view, then turned his attention to Irina. She knew this wasn’t going to end well. Zhongli wasn’t interested in her playful flirting, which was admittedly half-assed and on top of that there was the matter of her trying to help with his chopsticks.

“So are you going to tell me what that look was at the beginning of dinner?”

Irina raised an eyebrow, trying to consider every ‘look’ she gave since the moment they walked through the door of the restaurant. “What look?” She asked

“I saw your expression when you first saw my contact.” All traces of his previous smile were gone. He wasn’t hiding the fact that he was all business now

“Ah. That.” her thoughts raced as she tried to come up with an excuse. Clearly, she couldn’t say that she’d met him before “Normally when someone wants to use my services for seduction it tends to be for some old bureaucrat. Your contact is young and handsome.”

Childe shook his head, clearly disappointed in her answer. But at least he seemed to believe it. “Don’t go falling in love on the job.”

“Don’t worry. I have no heart.”

She gave away her heart the moment she signed her life away to the Tsaritsa.

The two maintained eye contact for longer than what either was comfortable with, each too stubborn to back down. It was impossible to tell how much time passed during their unspoken competition.

“Shall we head back?” Childe asked, finally averting his eyes to the road ahead.

---

The walk to the hotel was short but silent. Crowds moved for them, people stared, parents pulled their children closer as they walked by. It was the same in any country that wasn’t Snezhnaya. The Fatui were always seen as a threat, which in defense of the people, they were. Most of the time the fear in their eyes didn’t phase her, but it was nothing compared to having a harbinger by her side.

“What’s with the long face?” Childe asked

Irina snapped out of her own head to notice that they had already made it to the hotel.

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t give me that. I’ve got sisters, I know that look.” He chuckled quietly “The ‘the weight of the world is on my shoulders and no one else could possibly understand’ look”

She laughed, “It’s really nothing. Just a long day is all.”

He looked lost in thought for a moment “The mail boat arrives at 10 tomorrow. Why don’t you take a couple hours in the morning before that for yourself.”

Irina was shocked. Sure, Ekaterina and Vlad and the others at the bank all spoke highly of him but she’d never seen it for herself. She just assumed they spoke highly of him because they had to.

“You don’t have to do that. I assure you whatever is going on in my head will never impede my ability to do my job.”

Childe let out a long sigh before rubbing the back of his head. It was a gesture that looked both human and unsure. Two things she knew he wasn’t.

“That’s not what I’m insinuating. Just...take a break. That’s an order.” He opened the door to the front of the inn, ushering her inside “If I see you at work before 10 I’m going to be pissed. Goodnight.”

Irina watched from the window as the man disappeared down the street, still confused by what just occurred. For two weeks since she arrived he either outright ignored her, berated her, or made fun of her in front of the rest of the bank employees.

Maybe his delusion had finally caused him to go insane.

[leoxerickson]

At The Beginning || Leo & Rosaline

@thenorthernrose​

12 Years Ago... In the Northlands...

It was about half past noon when the young thief made his way down the corridor. A light whistle filling the air as he went. It had been about a month since the first time Leo had returned to Chateau Mer Sereine after his mother’s disappearance. The handmaiden was all but forgotten in the grand Chateau. A thought that seemed to creep its way into Leo’s mind and torment him in the middle of the night. But, today was not the day to dwell on how expendable people like him seemed to be to the nobility. Today was, instead, the day he had planned to swipe some of the Desrochers family jewels.

He had been scouting out the palace for weeks, parading around as the court fool no less. A sight that, more likely than not, would send his father into an early grave. It was almost funny how far the young Erickson had fallen. He used to play in these halls as a kid, imagining what it would be like when he grew up and became a knight. He wondered if it would prestige, pacing around the corridors with the Gold Crown and Red Roses craved into his armor. He used to wonder a lot of things, but he never could have predicted that the armor would be exchanged for a floppy hat and oversized shoes with bells on the ends. Bells which he had removed the bobbles in to stop them from producing any sort of sound. It made it easier for him to sneak around that way.

It was the perfect disguise really. Court jesters were there to be poked fun at and cause a good laugh. They were unpredictable idiots in a way that was amusing to no end. But, they weren’t ones to often be paid attention to during their times off. Leo used the spontaneous nature the court’s fool was known for to his advantage.

Passing a few maids down the hall, Leo waited until he was far enough out of their line of their sight before dipping into what at the time would have been the Crown Princess’s quarters. He had already managed to swipe a look at the future queen’s schedule and was sure she was supposed to be no where near her room for at least another hour or so. It was more than enough time for him to make off with some of the noble’s less valuable possessions.

He wasn’t planning on taking anything she’d miss. He was looking for items such as antique vases or some earrings that never seemed to be worn. Something along the lines of a jewel encrusted pen. Something that would go unnoticed for people whom had everything, but would mean life or death for himself and the few other street kids he kept an eye out for now and again. It would mean a warm meal that hadn’t been dug out of the trash. It would mean a bed and place to rest his weary head. It would mean not having to return home and face how disappointed his older brother must have been of him- how disappointed he was with himself.

Popping off the funny hat, Leo began plucking up the smallest knickknacks and paperweights he could find. Dropping them into oversized material, he continued to rummage around right up until he heard the sound of a creek of a floorboard behind him. Fuck, Leo thought. It was time to run. But, instead of knocking the first thing he saw over and darting towards the nearest window, Leo slowly turned around on the back of his heels to face the other.

“Hey… How’s it going?” Leo let out a low whistle, shooting the Princess as innocent of a smile as he could muster as he placed the hat back on top of his head. Holding it in place so that it wouldn’t spill over with all of his spoils.

Rosaline: The day had not been going well for the Crown Princess of the North. Her schedule had recently been fleshed out with royal duties to attend alongside her parents, and though she had been educated from an early age how to be future Queen, it was more difficult to put into action. Rosaline was good at hiding her mistakes and embarrassment, but it was enough to boil over by the time the sun set. 

She had managed to sneak away during teatime, craving the solace of her room to breathe easier and check a welt on her arm from archery practice. Rosaline could already feel the tenseness in her shoulders start to ebb as she hurried down the hall to her bedroom. What she wasn’t expecting was to see the bright stripes of the court jester clashing with her furniture. She slowed and stepped carefully in slippers, eyebrow arched high in suspicion waiting for the intruder to turn and see he was caught red handed. 

“These are private rooms.” Rosaline said sharply. “No one in your position…” Her words faded when she recognized the jester beyond the floppy hat and jingling bells. “You.” She had heard the whispered rumors around court when Leo dropped his knight training. It was a rare occurrence for Northern boys born to the privilege. She crossed her arms stiffly, “Why are you poking around my things? Give me one good reason I shouldn’t call the guards on you, Leo.”

Leo: “Oh! Are they?” Leo feigned innocence, blinking around the room as if he had set his sights on it for the first time. “My bad, your highness,” He said, bowing in her gesturing. His hands still glued to the side of his head as he tried desperately to balance the now stuffed hat on top of him. “You know I knew something seemed off, put I just couldn’t put my finger on-“ Leo started to say, but his words cut off as Rosaline recognized him.

Shit! Leo’s brain was practically screaming at him to drop the hat and make a mad dash for it. He could fling himself out the window if he really needed to. It wasn’t that far of a drop down… Or if arrested, he could live a fairly quaint life behind bars. They’d probably feed him better than how he had been eating up until this point, he mulled his options over in his head. “Leo? Leo who? I’m not-“ He tried to argue, before letting out a stiff sigh.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry, Rose,” Leo said quietly. His tone growing soft, but serious for the first time since he entered the room. Slowly taking the hat off of his head, Leo placed it down on the vanity table with his stash along with it. “I mean I wouldn’t say it’s a good reason, but… for food mainly? I also owe some guys a whole lot of money and if I don’t pay them off soon, they’re gonna come for head or worse- the last people they saw associate with me which happen to be a couple of street kids. But, that’s not really anything you need to worry about. I mean you’re a princess after all, right? I’m sure you have more important things to do than to be concerning yourself with likes a thief.” Nor did he really think she would. The Desrochers didn’t seem to have a care when his mother went missing and she had devoted her life to serving them, so why would they give a second thought towards a boy who was robbing them blind? And the more he thought about it, the more the window option was becoming a lot more appealing…

Rosaline rolled her eyes as he tried to act clueless and anyone other than he so clearly was. Being taken for a fool was almost the greater slight than being stolen from. She stepped up to the vanity where Leo had placed his hat and the items he’d swiped. It was nothing she would have noticed, at least not for a couple of days. Still, the betrayal stung slightly and Rosaline pouted to herself as Leo slowly came clean. 

She wanted to point out, first and foremost, it was Leo’s choice to be living on the streets now. He could still be training  as a knight and safe in the barracks, but he’d given that up. But Rosaline had also been visiting the poorer villages and sections of the Northlands, she saw what hungry people looked like. She would not know the strife personally, but she had witnessed it and understood. “I wish you weren’t wearing that stupid outfit.” She murmured, “You stand out like a sore thumb.” Rosaline was already trying to strategize the food issue, at least.

“I’m the princess. It is my concern. They’re still my people.” She scowled at him slightly, “What sort of trouble did you get yourself in to, owing money?” Rosaline looked him up and down, Leo clearly had so little to spare. “If you put my things back, and don’t run away – I’ll help you. We were friends, once upon a time.” Friends for Rosaline were hard to come by.

Leo: At the sight of the slight pout against the young girl’s lips, Leo felt a wave of guilt wash over himself. A feeling he all, but forgotten until that very moment. A sudden urge over came him to reach out and brush his thumb lightly across her lower lip as if to will the pout away, but he resisted. A person like him wasn’t capable of comfort like that anyhow. So, instead, he just stood there. His gaze soaking her in as he watched her debate over in her head what to do with him.

A soft smile traced across his lips at her comment about his ridiculous attire. “You and me both, Princess,” He admitted. Running his fingers through his tangled locks as his gaze fell down to his feet. “But, it worked, didn’t it? Up until now anyhow. It’s hard to imagine anyone would be dumb enough to steal looking like this and yet, here I am,” He let out a low whistle as he gestured to himself. He had fleeting thought that maybe, just maybe, he might make her smile? But, as soon as it popped into his mind, he thought better of it.

“I know. But, you’re also a girl. One whom I imagine has a hard day which is why she’s chosen to come back earlier than anticipated, only to be rudely interrupted by some fool,” He met her gaze. Not looking at the scowling girl before him as a princess, but as a person. “How off am I here?”

He didn’t need her to answer, to know that he was right. Playing different parts had already given him a sharp sense when it came to reading people. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll figure it out. I always do. Same goes with the food. I am respectfully relieving you of your duties, even though I would prefer if you didn’t call the guards. I don’t want to take away any more of your time you should spending on you. That and being locked up doesn't exactly sound pleasant... And I um… I didn’t think you’d remember,” He admitted. His hands slipping into his pockets as he gave her another light shrug.

Rosaline: “Just barely.” Rosaline responded dryly, lips still pursed in observation over Leo’s completely changed appearance. It would be easy to miss him if one didn’t give a second glance, and who would give any jester a second glance? The Desrochers had better duties to attend than that. That’s what made the disguise so clever, but then here they were face to face, and there was no mistaking him. “You’re dumb enough to pull it off for as long as you did.” Rosaline jeered him.

But the slight playful attitude was quickly pulled from her when Leo pinpointed her day so perfectly. He’d been gone for so long but could waltz back in and see her better than her parents or close handmaidens. It bothered her. “You’re just a boy.” She shot back defensively, “Have you really come to terms with turning your back on everything your family did before you? Do you think that makes you brave?” She just saw a desperate hungry thief instead. 

Even though her words were harsh, she didn’t fully hold them against Leo. Rosaline would be damned if she’d be relived of her ‘duties’ from him though. “I can get you sandwiches and treats from tea.” She answered instead, “Just meet me by the kitchen later.” She took a seat on a stool by the foot of her bed. “Given the chance I could recognize you in a crowd of thousands Leo Erickson.”

Leo: “Aw come on, Rose,” Leo said, taking a small step forwards, just enough to be able to whisper in the girl’s ear, “You’re honestly telling me you don’t find me in this get up amusing? Even in the slightest?” He asked. He cocked his head slightly to the side as he looked her over as if searching for the smallest hint of a smile across her lips. “Not quite the smile that I was hoping for, but I’ll take it,” Leo chuckled at her jest. His tongue running across the front of his teeth as he shook his head lightly in her direction.

But when the Crown Princess reminded him of his place, Leo found himself recoiling back the step he had taken. His eyes zoning in on a spot on the floor as he rocked back and forth on his heels. “I know,” Leo’s words were all but a whisper after a long drawn out pause. He knew he was nobody. He was a criminal and a thief among a long list of other equally negative adjectives. He was on a path of destitute, while she was destined for greatness. He had no right to even be standing there let alone looking at the future Queen to be. That was how things were supposed to be and, yet, here he was.

He lifted his head up towards her. A brow raising at her question. “Brave? No. Foolish? Maybe. But, would that really be anything new for me?” He said with a nonchalant shrug, despite the weight behind his words. “I mean let’s play this out, shall we? Say I did what every other Erickson has done before me? Say I became your dear knight? Then what? Hmm? I take orders I don’t agree with that will inevitable get me killed or have me vanish into the night? No ones gonna send a search party or mourn a guy like me. You said it yourself. I’m a just a boy. While you? You are going to travel the world and forge decisions. You are going change the course of history. You are going to get married to some Prince or Duke or some other guy with a title that, let’s be honest doesn’t actually mean a whole lot other than the fact that they have some whoopididoo prestigious parents and won the lottery at birth,” Leo exclaimed, messing his fingers through his hair as he did. “Everyone acts like being a knight is this prestigious thing, but the truth is, either way? Knight or not, you’re the one who will make the history books, while I’m the one who’ll be forgotten. And if I’m going to be forgotten anyways, then I might as well get live freely while I still can. Is that what you really wanted to hear, Princess? That I’d rather starve than stay in line?” The truth laid buried in between his words; Leo didn’t become a knight because he was afraid to end up like his mother- squandering his life protecting a family that wasn’t his.

“I can’t do that, Rose,” Leo spoke softly. Shaking his head back and forth as he took another step back towards the window ledge. “I can’t meet you in the kitchen, just like you can’t relax around me because you’re a Princess and I’m a prideful nobody and that’s the way it has to be.”

Rosaline: “You act as if every guard and soldier is disposable. The past may lead you to believe so, but that is not how I plan to run my kingdom.” Rosaline spoke with slight breathlessness. If that is how Leo and others looked at her she would prove the opposite if she had to. She didn’t want to be feared or resented. Not even as a princess. 

Rosaline shook her head, “I don’t understand how you can believe living off the streets is more prosperous than under Desrochers barracks- but you have made your decision.” A slight against his family, against her, she lifted her chin slightly in her own defiance: Rosaline wanted to scold herself for feeling that ache in her chest, but the emotion was there nonetheless. Leo was only disposable because he believed it, and he’d only be a street urchin as long as he kept himself there. 

But then he openly refused her, and her expression turned into a momentary grimace. “If we’re keeping with decorum make your escape. Or I have to turn you in.”

Leo: “Maybe not every guard or soldier, but can you honestly promise me I would not? I have no doubt you will be an incredible leader, Rosaline. But, if a war happens, there will inevitably be collateral. I mean you speak of everything my family did before me, but can you honestly stand there and tell me one of those knights names and what they stood for that was so extraordinary? Because I can’t,” He didn’t mean it in a slight against her family. He understood why his brother and the men before him chose to serve. He just didn’t see the point in it himself and how he could he look her in her eyes and fight for something he didn’t believe in? “I can’t and I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s more prosperous. I just don’t believe being a knight is for me is all. You’re talking to a boy who values his freedom more than anything. Who values the free will I have to stand before you and speak my mind instead of having to bow and refer to you as your highness or your majesty. And sure this freedom could get me locked up or killed, but at least it would be my stupid mistake that brought me here.”

“If I could be my brother, I would. But, I’m not and I know you don’t. But, hey, if it’s any consolation, you’re not the only one,” He admitted quietly under his breath. No one ever seemed to understand why. He was treated like so much of a disappointment from one simple decision that his own father wouldn’t even look him in the eyes. At least Lucan would speak to him, but it wasn’t without a saddened or downcast disposition. Everyone he cared about seemed to see him as a boy who threw his life away while he viewed himself as someone fighting for something bigger; Fighting for a world where a princess and pauper could stand on equal playing fields, where a boy like him might be able to approach a girl like without any false pretenses, and the highest position he could hold in society wasn’t a solider. But, those democratic thoughts of his would be treasonous if he ever dared speak them out loud.

“Always about the decorum, huh Rose?” He asked her cheekily, despite the solemn look in his eyes. Lifting himself up onto the window sill with ease, he glanced back at her once more. “See you around, Princess,” The thief gave her a salute before taking a step backwards. Sliding down the slated part of the roof, he disappeared out of sight.

End.

[whatscallion]

best friend au that definitely think they're best friend until someone mistakenly says "you two make a cute couple, reminds me of my husband and i when we were young" and ofc trying to deny it but all of the guy-bro friends point it out too 'you two dig each other' and now the guy realizes that he has feelings and oh no its awkward now becAUSE SINCE WHEN WAS SHE THAT PRETTY

//- i tweaked this a tad because of TWO YEARS worth of shipping, brainstorming, writing, and friendship demanded it so. you’re my best friend, so it only made sense to write this for you.

-romanogers, 2.6k word count, medieval au.

Times had been tumultuous to say the least, the earth quaking in seemingly endless wars. It seeped with the blood of friend and foe alike, all for the sake of words spoken and beliefs upheld. In a land bound by tradition, change often came in the bloodiest of manner, paying with the lives of those who believed or were forced to. The mentalities of kings and queens all generally ran in the same greedy course of river, wanting more land, more people, more gold - all for the sake of carrying the bigger stick.

Even Avalon didn’t escape the sticky tendrils of materialistic gluttony. Its toxin fed through the peasants scraping by in the mud, crawling its way through the ranks to stain the pristine armor the knights wore. Even the most noble fell prey to the darker thoughts laying an overcast to their shining kingdom.

But much like the weather, there were rays of the purest light to shine down on those deemed worth enough to behold.

Through the storms that plagued the minds of opposition and the clashing of metal on metal, bonds were forged through the fires of violent trust, and in doing so, walls long ago erected began to crumble despite every effort otherwise.

A glance lasting a heartbeat longer than necessary.

The subtle curl of a smile.

A seemingly unbiased nature becoming the opposite.

Despite the mystery shrouding that of the noblewoman Natalia ( though it was safely assumed she’d endured the worst childhoods at that table ), things were coming to light only to those who were clever enough to see. Beneath the fabric stained crimson and obsidian, a beating heart grew warm despite everything it’d been through, despite the cracks created, despite the lack of recognition it received. Every beat since seeing baby blues and valor brought a hue of warmth normally disregarded as weakness.

No, this wasn’t weakness. Yet the revelation only continued in stoicism, particularly in the company of others. Should it not pertain to her duties in serving Avalon, then the information would fester away within the folds of a mind long ago groomed for efficient violence. At first, there’d been an almost petulant way in which she ignored the creeping sensation prickling at the center of her chest when he came around.

He. Him. This Knight and his Shield.

Forcibly, she’d pinpoint the exact ways in which to end his life, ranging from the poisons she’d used on those undeserving of grizzly ends to the brutality of war overcoming him like a tide. Rather than find something pleasant in an imagined demise, the Widow was greeted only with the faintest of scowls. The Order would’ve been most displeased had they ever been privy to this growth as it was far too human for an Instrument, thus hindering what was created to be marred perfection.

It made sense for there to be distance at first, but the results had been the opposite of what was intended - she had missed him, to put it plainly.

It was peculiar, for there was nothing particularly profound between them. Perhaps that had been the trick. Most allowed her preceded reputation to speak for her, often veiling words in the barest fear that she may appear before them with less than pure intentions. But with him - this Knight - he had treated her minutely different. There was a brightness in his eyes despite being worn from conflict, and he spoke to her not as a woman nor a threat - but an equal. It was jarring at first, and comforting at last. Slowly, others of the Table had followed his example, albeit cautiously so. That would be for the best. The Widow had long ago accepted her role in this world, in this kingdom, at this Table, so the severe lack of surprise had been the only thing she could take solace in.

But now, solace moved to that of a bond she couldn’t quite ignore. It was almost frustrating at times, the unseen voices of her past telling her this would be her untimely demise. That his hand would sever the thread of her life. And yet, she couldn’t quite pay attention to the damning warnings heading her way, her thought process laiden with honesty and softness - both unheard of in the legacy of her wake.

Geneviere had been the first to touch upon what others only spoke of in hushed tones outside of shared presences.

“The way you look at one another, it reminds me so much of what I’ve endured in my younger days.” It was a statement that drew the taciturn to face the fairest presiding over the kingdom. It was unprompted, yet somehow, unsurprising. She was slipping in her indifference.

“I know not what you mean, my Queen.” It was an expected answer, it’d seem, as the low hum of a chuckle came from royalty, eyes averting as if the weight of the world rested in her gaze.

“Please,” Geneviere spoke in a candidly hushed tone. “You may fool the others at the Table, but you do not fool me, Widow. A coldness exudes from you, but only those who have felt the warmth of love can feel it as well.”

The Queen was met only with silence as her answer, and in that silence came an acceptance - an admission that the woman was right in her assumptions. And in doing so, the Queen continued.

“I’m not in a position to control your thoughts, Natalia, but I can offer a piece of … hardfought knowledge. This is not a kind world, of that I’m sure you’re aware of, but when we find the things that make it a little bit better, we mustn’t let the opportunity slip by, no matter how selfish it may seem.” Truth lingered in every syllable spoken, and there was no denying it. Thus, silence reigned supreme as a simple nod of acknowledgement was given to her Highness before the noblewoman slipped from the presence she’d not deserved.

It’d been frustration at the obviousness of the situation that had compelled her to leave the grounds in which she inhabited, venturing out on her own for time with her thoughts and nothing else.

And she remained a ghost for an entire fortnight.

During such time, no one held a concern towards the disappearance of their most prolific of duty-bound.

No one, save for one.

“The Widow always disappears for reasons we don’t know,” a friend spoke, taking his time in peeling the skin off a roasted turkey leg. “What makes it any different now? It’s not as if she’s reverting back to the old ways - she knows the consequences of those actions.”

Around the table they sat, three knights from differing corners of this untamed world. Two ate without hesitation while one merely poked at the food presented before him. His head was held within his hand, boredom mixed with concern to paint a scowl along angular features. Sir Steven was unamused at his company, and further unamused at the food he held no appetite for.

“It’s not as if she’ll die out there. She’s cheated death what - three times?” The good Knight Wilson spoke with nonchalance, a bit more concerned than that of the third, Sir James.

“No, only the one time with the mage,” corrected Sir James, still taking his time with the fowl skin. He’d argued before that it was where all the nutrients were, hence why it was so tasty. “If you count the Burning of Rifthelm, then sure. Twice, but I don’t think there’s a third time.”

“The cliff,” Sir Steven finally said. “The one at the river’s birth in the Northlands. The Dead King nearly had her join his ranks there.”

“And she came back just fine,” Sir Wilson added, as if that alone would wipe the woes away from the knight’s disposition, but it only seemed to solidify it. This forced both the lounging knights to lean forward, a seriousness veiling them to simmer the humor away into nonexistence.

“Steven-”

“Sir Steven,” the blonde knight corrected.

“Shut up, we grew up together. I can call you a whore without fear of getting beheaded,” Sir James spoke with unheard of liberties taken.

“Not publicly, no,” Steven said with a sigh. This had Sir Wilson rolling his eyes to the heavens above, as if the angels he prayed to would deliver him from this bickering stupidity.

“Anyways, Sir Steven-”

“Continue.”

“-You’re making this affliction very obvious.” James gestured frivolously at Steven sitting there, forlorn like a wife with a husband in battle.

“Affliction?” The blonde spoke as if he had no idea what was being implied. This furthered Sir Wilson’s eye roll, suddenly wishing for something - anything - to take him away from these two. Instead, it was he who would shed light on what was already discussed between he and James.

“Your feelings for the Widow, Sir Steven. Don’t play dumb. Sir James and I have definitely witnessed this thing between you, and I’d bet my last gold piece that she feels the same about you.” The confidence in Sam’s tone would leave his words as unshakable truth - irrefutable in every standard possible.

And the worst part of all of this was that they’d seen it so plainly, so easily, that Steven could not deny them their bragging rights. Rather than fully admit to it, he merely sank in his chair somewhat, his broad shoulders slumping in dismal defeat before calloused hands came up to cover his face, hiding away the warmth in his cheeks.

“What am I to do? This is inconvenient and impossible,” he lamented into his palms, bringing James and Sam to exchange looks, as if appointing the other repeatedly to console their friend. In the end, it was James ( perhaps the least capable of this ) who would lead his friend down this awful road that was lined with an awkward and sweaty love. Sam merely wandered away, casual in the fact that this was no longer his ordeal to handle.

“Impossible? She’s a woman and not a half bad looking one. It’s very possible,” James tried.

“She’s more than that, James.”

“How come I have to call you Sir, but you don’t have to call me Sir? I’m a knight,” James pouted.

“You’re beneath me in ranks,” Steven spoke, still hiding behind his hands. James couldn’t argue with that logic, so he let it go.

“But continue. How is she more and how is this impossible?” With Steven hiding away behind his hands, James went back to gnawing on the drumstick, but remaining attentive to his friend.

“She has conviction. Lethal. Deadly. Beautiful. Have you seen her fight? It’s as if she’s dancing. As if it’s the most graceful way one could hope to be killed - by her hand.”

“That’s her training, honestly.”

“No, it’s more than that. It’s a natural aptitude.” Steven had dropped his hands, coming to the defense of a woman he couldn’t quite ignore, no matter how many times he told himself it was the worst idea imaginable. “Music flows through her-”

“So, you like her because she’s pretty and she can kill with ease? I know at least five women like that.” That earned James a harsh glare from Steven, but it was to be expected. James wasn’t necessarily the best when it came to alleviating the weight of a situation.

“That’s not it, James. There’s so much more, but I can’t even begin to put it into words. Is it obvious?”

“Yes,” James answered too quickly, bringing Steven to hide behind his hands once more.

“Do you think she knows?”

“Yes,” he answered once more, once again too quickly. Steven made a noise akin to that of a horse falling into a well, which only made James chuckle at his supposedly awful situation.

“Love is an awful thing, Sir Steven. Worse than any war you could fight, but it is exquisite when it’s perfect.” As if this man knew a thing or two about love. “I suggest you do something before she disappears and doesn’t come back. She may be of Nevihe descent, but even they die.”

Again, that noise came forth from Steven, capping the conversation with a pat on his back. It was in that time alone in the Great Hall that Sir Steven mulled over the choices he had before him, all of which he was certain would end in despair, pain, anger - all of it giving him more than enough reason to cower away from what others were, undoubtedly, eager to behold.

But Sir Steven was never one to shy away from a challenge, even if it was one unto himself. Rather, he patiently waited for her to appear, or even the Raven often announced her arrival. For days on end, distraction found him, festering knowledge away to hollow out his own commitment to the task at hand. It made for sloppy training, sloppier penmanship, and sloppiest mannerisms. He’d even been dismissed from the Table one evening because his lack of focus was bothersome to the Queen.

Little did he know that she knew exactly what wavered his sight so much, and it was her intent to do something about it - a guiding hand to remove whatever imaginary obstacles resided between the two.

It was as he traversed the long halls to get back to his chambers that he was greeted with an instinctual urge to glance to his side as halls intersected. The shade of crimson drew him to a slow stop - the Widow was back, yet she’d not been at the Table. How long had she been back in the kingdom? Was she okay? Questions plagued him as his course of trajectory changed, and legs carried him closer and closer towards a confrontation he wished he could avoid.

“Natalia,” he had started, unsure in the slightest of what to say afterwards as she turned to him. Emerald met cerulean and in the depths of an oasis created between them, they drowned in sublime admiration, affection, love.

“Steven,” she replied, but it was all she spoke before actions too precedence over their meeting. Never had she been one for words, often claiming there were far more understanding ways of relaying a message, and this moment was no different than the rest.

A step forward was taken.

Steven’s eyes widened the slightest, yet baby blues darkened in the slightest.

Natalia’s hands fell upon the broadness of his chest, the same hands that had taken the lives of countless - both innocent and guilty.

On her toes’ tips, she stood, and his hands found the curve of her waist beneath the leather adorning her.

Seamless were these movements, culminating to bring their lips together in a kiss almost too innocent for either to fall victim to. Both, coated in the blood of battles and wars fought, and yet in one another, a peace was created.

A peace that would only reside between them in an intimacy unmatched.

[truthshield]

Entrepreneur thinks outside the box

By most definitions, an entrepreneur who takes his business idea to fruition and lasts five years is considered a success. Darryl Taylor took his idea in 2016 and has built his business B.S. City. It is estimated that only about half of small businesses last five years. Taylor shares his story willingly, “I was a DJ for 20 years. I turned 35 in 2016. So I wanted to get my foot into something else. I had money saved. I asked my friend Jeremy, ‘Do you want to do something kind of out of the box? Something different?’ I had six grand in my pocket and he had no money but four grand in credit cards. We moved into a small plaza. The realtor told me, ‘Nobody ever makes it there.’ Our first year for what it was, it was really good. After that year, I bought my buddy out. I was at that North West Street Plaza for about another year. Then I moved to Jackson Street near Lima Senior. The first shop was 1,200 square feet. The Jackson was 5,500 square feet. I was there for a year and a half then I moved to a 16,000 square foot building which was DeHaven’s.” Most entrepreneurs have a willingness to take risks. They are willing to work hard and put in constant effort to turn ideas into reality. They often start small and work toward growing the business bigger. “I’ve always been that guy to go big or go home,” Taylor related. “I’ve always wanted to excel; I never was content. There is always risk. This (moving to Northland Plaza) was a big risk. After two years at DeHaven’s I just grew tired of the building. I thought, you know what? I got enough stuff here. Now I got enough business. I’m gonna be a big department store. I want to do something that a lot of little guys have not done. I want to kind of be like a big chain, but I’m not a chain; I’m just local, you know, and that’s when we made this move.” Entrepreneurs assume all the risks of their business which while rewarding, can also be a lot of pressure. “I ain’t gonna lie. I was nervous. But things just fell into place. Now when I moved here, now I’m nervous. I’m not gonna lie to you. Let me do baby steps like I’ve been doing this whole time. A wise decision for the store? Yes. The way it’s put together, the way it was compared to what it has been for the last five years — this is the best it’s ever been. Customer shopping experience. Great. The way it’s laid out. The signage. Yes. As far as the financial and doing the business, I don’t know yet because I’m in a new location. And I don’t know what’s going to be,” Taylor said. There are as many different types of entrepreneurs as there are people. One of the great joys of being an entrepreneur is the ability to operate outside the box. Naming the business can be one example. “I’ll tell you the concept behind that. I wanted to call it Buy Sell City. My buddy and I discussed and decided to spice it up. People look as B.S. and think of one thing, but it really stands for Buy-Sell City. I’m going to go into this business with a serious mindset about the only B.S. found here is in the name. I’ve stood my ground with it ever since. Because I’m honest. I don’t work people off. That’s what that means. I don’t rip people off. I’m honest. I’m fair and firm. I don’t treat anybody different.” Darryl Taylor is usually at his business B.S. City at 100 W. Northern Avenue Lima, Ohio. Stop in. See what’s there and talk to the owner. “People look as B.S. and think of one thing, but it really stands for Buy-Sell City,” said Darryl Taylor, who owns the business. Darryl Taylor, owner of B.S. City Reach Dean Brown at 567-242-0409 https://ift.tt/vcQPbLa https://ift.tt/hM4CrHK

[talesofealdancynedom]

Tale 31: If We Lost The Sea Wives (4/5)

Tale 31: If We Lost The Sea Wives (chapter 4 - Silence of The Storm  4/5 ) part 7. Stories of Magic Forests

no warings

              Electra turned out to be professor Saturn Firepot’s trial run. As it would happen, his love of fey soon led him to a special job. Seers who study fey, are the wizards that identifying fey. What fey they are, where they come from, and how they behave; This is done, so common folk don’t get upset, or handle magic improperly. From identification applications, to in person consults; A seer of fey, was sure to help. Saturn’s next identification mission, was different however. Professor Saturn Firepot, was asked to identify fey that had been put in a warehouse, after being freed from illegal collectors; Or other dangerous situations. The goal was to either relocate them, or take them in for study. On rare occasions, some wizards who where power thirsty, had to be dissuaded from executing fey. All this was done to empty the magical containment centers. Regardless of the chaos, exotic and wonderous fey were to found.

              Saturn specialized in fish fey and fairies; So, those are the areas of the warehouse he was sent. His job was mostly filling out ID cards of fey’s container. Seeing them locked up, always made Saturn sad. He finished his round through the sea wife section, then quickly went to a corner of iron cages containing nymphs. One was only a boy; Which meant he was born, like Electra. He resembled a type of nymph thought to have been wiped out. Fountain nymphs. They are responsible for enchanting the fountains of youth, and creating healing water. The fountains had burned down earlier that year, possibly wiping the nymphs out. However, Saturn was less concerned with the naiad’s value, and more endeared by the fairies dominative apearance. He reminded Saturn of his daughter. The temptation to care for an orphaned fey became overwhelming. There was nothing stopping Saturn. He had transformed the school atrium into a fey rehabilitation center, used for educational purposes; Thus, Saturn had space to welcome any fey he chose to take with him.

Before Saturn knew it, he was focused on caring for a genuine fountain nymph, who insisted his name was Woodwick. But the small naiad, was in that containment center for a reason. Many people would do anything, to get their hands on a fey, that could grant them eternal beauty and health. Woodwick had came from such an abusive situation, and needed to be hidden for his protection. Saturn decided to only tell his apprentice, Dominique Klopirl, and no one else. Once Woodwick recovered, he started to look sad. As he grew, it became apparent Woodwick wanted something Firepot could actually offer. Being human. Or at least, as to human as a fey can get. Firepot had lied, and forged documents, to fool his entire village into thinking his daughter wasn’t a selkie. He knew exactly how to make Woodwick a convincing adoptive son.

              When Saturn got custody of Woodwick, he also got some concerning news: While he was at his new job, once again loving life, Jasper called saying Electra was going to have a baby. He sounded terrified. Saturn said all he needed to do, was deliver at home; And make sure to wash the baby immediately in a tub of sea water. Oddly specific instructions, but Jasper was to overcome by parental anxiety, to think deeply about that advice. Not that he thought deeply about anything anyway. Six months later, Saturn was invited home for the winter break, to meet his grandson. He was overcome with joy. Saturn was a grandfather, and the child was not a selkie.

              When Saturn arrived home, the cool humid air felt soothing, and the land was still green. A Northland winter is mild, but still winter. The cold was in the humid air. Like her mother, Electra went to dip her toes in the ocean, having delivered a baby complication free. Seemingly in perfect health. Jasper, as himself, was so happy to hold his son, and have his wife safe, to notice her obliviousness. He had a happy healthy family. But Saturn had an agenda. The second he entered the door, he ran over and hugged Electra, like he would never see her again. She still had the distinct squish of a selkie; Soft, with give and warmth. Her cashmere cardigan and floral gown, adding to the comfort of their embrace. The whole family was delighted to be together. After their long hug, Jasper got everyone to come in for some strong tea, and offered Saturn his grandson, Hara, to hold.

“Why’d you ask me to use sea water to wash him? Family tradition? Like some other families here? Is it because magic is in the sea, and it’s for luck?” Jasper asked. Saturn was holding up his grandson, giving him a good look over, with satisfaction. His face was full of serenity; Hiding souring memories. The last baby he held was his daughter, and it was markedly one of the worst days of his life. His grandson was a perfectly adorable human, and thus would never be tempted by the waves. There was no fear of him leaving his family heartbroken, as Saturn once was.

“I guess we feel connected to the sea and it’s fey,” Saturn said. “This is a magic forest Jasper.” Electra walked over and took Hara gently from her father’s arms. She seemed more fascinated by him then maternal. Only Saturn noticed, being aware of her identity. Fey, stuck in eternal youth, cannot conceptualize parental instincts. But nevertheless, they can deeply care for the people around them. Love is the strongest magic, even if it’s not the romantic kind. Fondness, or fey friendship, contains just as much love. In that sense, Electra loved Hara with all her heart.

              Hara felt loved by his family, and admired his grandfather; Who was working in another land. When grandpa came to visit, it felt more magical than his home. When Hara was about school age, he met Woodwick. Hara, as a mage and fey enthusiast, recognized a nymph in seconds. When he was alone with his grandfather, Hara had questions.

“We talked about how Woodwick is a nymph, and I might be a mage; But why did you adopt him? And why do you lie to father?” Hara asked, innocently. Fear ran through Saturn’s bones. Children see through lies.

“Well, Woodwick is precious. He is valuable to the world of wizards, fey, and common folk. He is also important to me; Like a son. Woodwick dreams to be human, and teach magic, as fey can have individual dreams too. In Fountain, he would of had a childhood just like yours, and be treated as a common man. Nymphs are good at that. But it’s different outside magic forests; People can be possessive or violent towards fey. If I convince everyone Woodwick is human, he will have his dream, and be safe from naughty wizards. So, I adopted him, take him to be a part of our family, put him into magic school, and lie about what he really is.” Saturn said.

“But wont lying get you in trouble? Grandpa, what if you get caught? Don’t people always find out? Grandpa! that’s bad!” Hara reprimanded.

“It is more like… Withholding information! It’s for the better! Can you tell everyone Woodwick is your adoptive uncle, so he can be safe and have his dream?” Saturn requested, looking at Electra. She was cleaning the kitchenette. Luckily, Hara ran over to embrace her leg. Children ask a lot of questions, but can easily be distracted before they get answers. Saturn felt like he had dodged a bullet. Like his lost wife and selkie daughter, Woodwick had become another fey Saturn lied to protect. Another fey he forgot wasn’t human.

Professor Saturn Firepot’s reputation would be slaughtered, if people found out he was hiding such valuable fey, or treating them like family. The line between profession, and using love to justify his actions, was becoming blurred. Woodwick and Electra weren’t people, or his family; They were made of magic, and children of the Fairy King and Fish Kings respectively. Yet, Saturn wanted them to be human. They felt human. He had studied fey his whole life, and knew how close they were to an average person when given the chance. Each mythical creature had a personality, and real emotions. They were worth respect, and deserving of basic care. They are a fundamental and constant part of the world. Why should anything so alive, be worth anything less? This is a message Saturn would always teach Hara. But Hara was a mage raised around fey, and perfectly unable to tell between someone made of magic, or blood.

Hara may have noticed Woodwick, but his mother whom he saw everyday, passed his radar. Even if Electra, being made of magic, could sense her son was a mage, she ignored it. Hara was just another one of his favourite humans. Given everyone’s ignorant bliss, Saturn continue withhold the fact Electra was a Selkie from everyone. Woodwick would be fought over, and loose his dream of being human; But Electra would leave Saturn. He would be forced to return her coat, and watch her walk into the sea, abandoning him. Saturn’s job and reputation was second to how much he loved his family. The loss of their trust, and their broken hearts, scared him; Increasing Saturn’s worries about his daughter. Out of fear and love, Saturn was unable to stop lying. Which resulted in a troubled mind. That night, Saturn took out Electra’s coat from his bag. He took it everywhere, to keep it safe. A selkie could die without her skin. He held it close and tight, like his daughter. plush, warm, and sweetly scented. Something so simple, just seemed to mean so much.

NEXT--->

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