#(but has no use of his 'real' hand until the mage hand has finished its task)

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

ppl tend to understate Buggy's intelligence in fanworks sometimes I find. Like he was able for 25 years to both hide his devil fruit from the world, his connection to the Roger pirates, he can make bombs and he did hide his devil fruit while in impel down effectively so he wasn't put in seastone cuffs or tortured in a way that would affect him at all. Dude can be smart, he just has 0 foresight and is emotional and single-minded to the point of short-sightedness. Even his initial plan with the chop chop fruit and the map was very smart for a boy his age, he just freaked out when shanks showed up and deliberately sabotaged himself, like that's his thing. He also got really close to killing Luffy in Loguetown, if not for the convenient lightning strike, Luffy could have died there. Buggy contains multitudes, he can both be insanely stupid and very smart.

...we must be using very different search terms to find buggy fic, anon.

but you're right, buggy is smart and stupid simultaneously! high INT/low WIS, i think is how the modern nerd would put it: he can come up with a good plan, but he does not think it through long enough to consider any bad outcomes, so they always take him by surprise. like, the muggy bomb is much easier to hide on his person than the og buggy bomb - it fits in the tip of his shoe! how convenient! but that also makes it easier for someone to just swat it back at buggy, to literally blow up in his face.

and buggy would have killed luffy in roguetown, for sure. the marines had no interest in intervening, and luffy's crew weren't gonna get to him fast enough. if it weren't for luffy's uncanny luck (or his dad literally conjuring up a storm, depending on what you think really happened in roguetown), that would've been a win for buggy.

...that said, i don't think the chop-chop fruit plan was a good one. i know the art style suggests buggy's an older teen, but per later canon buggy is at most twelve years old in that moment. and he's gonna sell a devil fruit, and with those funds get himself a ship and a crew of treasure-greedy pirates to follow his treasure map? at twelve? that boy is not gonna be a preteen pirate captain, he's gonna get his throat slit.

[illumiera]

sending you yet another ask. ‘Q’ and ‘U’ for ellie and miraak, and ‼️ for you! :3

thank you for yet another delicious ask, jules! 🤲

✨ ask game! ✨

Q. first act of non-sexual intimacy (e.g. washing the other's hair, taking a bath together, sharing food)

ah, I love this question! for Elentari and Miraak's first act of non-sexual intimacy, I'm tempted to say it comes shortly after they escape Apocrypha. he sleeps a long time after his resurrection—two weeks, really snorking those mimis—and she spends a lot of this time sitting at his bedside, guarding him as fiercely as a dragon does its treasure. in fact, how about I let her tell you about it? 😼

She swears to herself that she won’t reach out for him, not even when his brows furrow and his clawed fingernails dig into the embroidered quilt. It’s too dangerous, knowing what she wants and yet can’t allow herself to have. Her dragon soul and her mortal heart are both greedy things, after all, and neither will be sated with just one gesture of tenderness. She’ll stay still, or sit on her own hands if need be, but she won’t do anything more than watch and make sure he’s safe this first night—and then he starts to toss his head and thrash, straining away from something or straining towards it, and before she can finish damning herself for it, her fingers are twining in his hair. “Drem, Dovahkiin,” she murmurs as she brushes spun-gold strands from his burning forehead, as she undoes his tangled braids and combs them smooth so gently that she doesn’t detect even the slightest wince, and as she discovers that his hair is so, so much softer than she could have imagined. “Nid faas het, zu’u kaat. It’s not real, whatever you’re seeing. It might have been once, but you’re not there now, no matter how much it feels like it. You’re here with me, safe with me, in the Fourth Era, and—” Despite herself, her fingers have drifted down to skim from his temple to the pale, thin scar slicing his cheekbone; they trace the length of it once, twice, as she wonders why he kept it, skilled mage that he is. “And I really would like for you to wake up and see it.” It could get a person drunk, this—this touching. Just as Elentari decides against intoxicating herself further and makes to pull away, his hand flies up out of nowhere and seizes hers. “’Sili.” She doesn’t dare breathe, healer’s excuse at the ready, but instead of waking and eyeing her like she’s some sort of madwoman—a not-inaccurate assessment given the circumstances, she can’t help but think—he folds his fingers between hers, snaring her as surely as if in any spell, and sighs, “Stay.” And whatever his dreams are, she can’t leave him to face them alone. So she stays, perched there on the chair with her hand in his, until the hearthglow dims to embers that limn the places their fingers meet in muted molten candle-gold, like sunlight, like cleansing fire.

U. first pet-names/nicknames they give each other

this is where I rub my hands together like a mischievous raccoon—because of the Time Nonsense™️ I like to play around with, this one has two possible answers!

in the Fourth Era, Miraak calls Elentari dii rinisil or rinisili not long after they meet. he intentionally mistranslates or implies that it means "the equal to my soul", but she soon enough realises that it actually means "my same-soul", which feels like a totally different thing. they have a lot of pet names for one another (they're disgusting.), but this one gets a lot of use.

meanwhile, in the Merethic Era, Miraak (who isn't yet Miraak at this point) meets her in a dream and calls her kundruniik, or "light-bringer", since he doesn't know her actual name and won't learn it for thousands of years. you could say that this is the first name she was ever gven, way before her parents ever named her Elentari.

(also, in the Merethic Era, Ellie is the first to use rinisili for him, though Fourth Era Miraak doesn't remember that until she restores his memories to him...)

‼️ free space! tell us about a notable "first" in your writing journey!

answered here!

[rendy-a]

Event teaser 2

I've decided to post little "getting ready" fics to lead up into my 500 follower event. I'll put up the event when I get to 500. Here is the first one!

Preparing for guests with the First Years

You sneezed for what felt like the millionth time today.  All this dust was playing havoc with your sinuses but, even so, you had no desire to cease.  Every student at NRC was diligently cleaning the campus to prepare for guests.  Royal Sword Academy would be attending the goodwill dance being held on campus “to foster close bonds between budding mages” or at least that is Crowley’s claim.  You privately thought it was some piece in a game he had to one-up Ambrose, Headmage at RSA.  But that wasn’t all.

Rook pops his head in the room, dressed in the black of his ceremonial robes and holding a feather duster.  The students were down to the wire but refused to stop cleaning until the very stones sparkled; no RSA snob is going to look down on their campus!  Reminding you very much of a French maid, he exclaims, “There’s a girl in the castle!” before scampering off.  So, they were finally here: the students of the all-female Fair Maiden Academy.  It was both exhilarating and frightening for it cemented the reality of the coming event: a co-ed dance. 

Not that you were worried, parish the thought!  I mean, you might not have a date…or an outfit…or like any real plans for that night at all but you weren’t worried.  So what if your school now had like a million more people in it for competition?  That didn’t worry you.  No, why would it?  You psych yourself up by reminding yourself that all those extra students are also an opportunity to be your date.  After all, why shouldn’t you just go up and ask out an Idol like Neige or that blond with total princess vibes from FMA.  There are like 8 princes and princesses between the three academies but only one student from another world; you are one of a kind, who wouldn’t want to go to the dance with you?

“Prefect, stop spacing out and help us here!” Ace shouts at you.  “Come on Ace, give the Prefect a break,” Deuce says while laying a comforting hand on your shoulder, “It must be so much harder for them to clean without magic.”  You shake your head in agreement, glad that you could count on Deuce to have your back.  “Whatever, this better get done by dinner or someone is getting their pillow covered in cold water tonight,” Grim says from the corner.  You smile at your friends and get back to scrubbing tables in the classroom.  It was assigned to the first years to clean the campus as the Housewardens and Vice Wardens were greeting the guests at the gates. 

“IF YOU CHILDREN ARE DONE COMPLAINING, WE HAVE WORK TO FINISH HERE!” Sebek interrupts your friendly banter.  Ace gets a sly look on his face and he looks at you from the corner of his eye and winks.  “Oh yeah?  Well, I guess if we are children that must make you an adult then?” he prods carefully.  Sebek scoffs and answers pridefully, “Its clear that I’m the most mature one here.  With my intensive training, it could hardly be otherwise.”  Sensing that he had him where he wanted him, Ace smiles and then asks mockingly, “Then a super mature guy like you must have already found a date for the dance.”  Sebek blanches and starts stammering, “Wha.What are you suggesting.  Of course, I…I mean.” Then he blushes and turns away quickly.  Ace slides up and sets a hand across his shoulder, “Oh, did you hear that Prefect, Sebek has a date.  Why don’t you give us some tips on how to pick up a date?  Come on Casanova, regale us with a tale.”  Sebek looks between you, wide-eyed and speechless.

“Hey, stop fooling around,” Jack sighs from the corner.  It was decided that Sebek and Jack, being the most physically fit among the year, would take care of moving the furniture so it could be cleaned around.  Deuce looks over at his track club teammate and asks, “Have you ever taken someone to a dance before, Jack?”  Jack looks over and smiles, “Sure have.  Plenty of times.”  Ace goes wide eyed, “Wha?  No way!”  Jack pats the back of his head sheepishly and elaborates, “My sisters are always asking me to come to these Father-Daughter type dances back home.  I know my pops should be going instead but they insist they want me to come.”  Now Ace is angrily yelling, “Oi, oi, oi!  That’s not the same thing!”

You are laughing when Epel comes storming into the room, looking like he is about to rip something or someone apart.  “Dagnabbit!” he shouts before grinding his teeth in a deep scowl.  He scans the area, and you privately wonder if he was looking for something to vent his anger on, like your buckets of cleaning water or the trashcan.  Maybe it’s better if you attempt to mediate this situation.  “Hey, what’s up Epel?  Something happen?”  He looks over at you furiously and declares, “I’m not cute and I’m not a girl!”  The guys hold back a snort but Ace, ever the instigator can’t leave it alone, “Did one of the RSA guys ask you to the dance, Princess?”  The effect is immediate as Epel leaps over a table at Ace and a scrap begins.

“My sensors detect elevated levels of sound coming from this classroom,” a robotic voice echoes from the door.  “Come on guys, let’s not fight in front of Ortho!” you say.  You know that he is technically not a small child but it’s hard to avoid treating him like one when he had such a small stature and adorably innocent face.  Your fellows appear to agree because Epel released Ace’s collar with a mild snarl before standing up and dusting off his jacket.  “Next time Ace,” warns Epel, “I’m going to wipe that laughter right off yer face!”  Ortho’s eyes crinkly in excitement, “Oh!  Are we telling jokes in here?  I can access a database of popular comedic routines for you, if you’d like!” 

You hastily wave aside his offer, “No, no no.  We were just discussing the, um, difficulties we were having with the students at RSA.”  Epel tosses his head back wildly, “Difficulties my boot!  I’d like to toss a rotten apple right in there faces!”  Suddenly, a highly mischievous look comes over Ortho’s face, “Oh ho, so its pranks you are looking for?” he says while raising a hand to his robotic mouth.  “I can suggest several pranks from highly rated high school animes.”  You gaze at your fellows, feeling like you probably should decline this suggestion like the prior one…only…” But when you finished sweeping the room, no one would meet you eye.  Even the rule abiding Jack seemed hard pressed to dismiss the suggestion.  So, you decided, why not? 

That day, you and the first year crew spent the morning cleaning the classrooms and the afternoon pelting wayward RSA students with water balloons containing colorful pigments and alchemically created scents.  Which, of course, led to you spending the evening wiping up a colorful and horrible smelling courtyard as punishment.  As you clean up a neon blue puddle with Deuce that smelled suspiciously like rotten bananas, you asked him, “Are you worried that you won’t find a date to the dance?”  He looks over at you and replies, “Not really.  The last school dance I was able to attend, I didn’t have a date or friends.”  He looks down, perhaps recalling his delinquent past, “If I end up just going with my buddies, well, that’s fine by me.”  Finally, you feel the tension you’d been holding in the pit of your stomach relax.  Yeah, that was fine.  If you got a date, great but, if you didn’t, you’d still have the first-year crew to keep you company.  And with friends like these, what more excitement did you need?

[m-r-levine]

Happy Blorbo Blursday!

Today I want to hear about the inspiration behind your OCs. How did they come to be? You can answer for as many or as few as you like!

~ @tabswrites

Thank you for the ask! 🖤 Many apologies for getting to it so late.

I am sure everyone is tired of hearing about mi hijo maldito by now, and he can either learn to share the limelight or give me prose, so I think I shall ramble about my older OCs instead.

This feels long to me and… personal? So I will toss it behind a cut. It seems the polite thing to do, but perhaps i am old-fashioned.

Firstly, the reason I picked up my pen at all on this side of Being An Adult: the glass cannon with many aliases of varying levels of creativity, Brynrinkeris — or Keris for short.

She was created first under a different name as an avatar on a hardcore roleplaying server in an MMORPG many years ago. I joined the server in a last-ditch effort to actually play and enjoy the game I was given - my then-partner and their guild out-leveled me on my poor frankencomputer very quickly and their FFXI play-styles were more intense, aggressive, and numbers-heavy than I prefer in my games. So I wandered among the storytellers to see what their world was like.

My therapist at the time made a wild suggestion on my second week “playing the same game but alone” - since I struggled with journaling for various reasons we won’t get into here, she was curious if that would also translate to imaginary journals. You know, a kind of running memoir for this character I’m playing with in a setting that’s so full of stories and choices. What if she were a real person? What would she think and feel about this broken world she’s moving in? What would she notice about the people around her, living their stories out in the open where anyone could see them, hear them? What would she - not me! - do if someone said Hi? What would she write about it later?

An interesting experiment.

For Science.

So naturally I did what anyone would do in the era of the early high-speed internet and I made a blog for an imaginary person in an imaginary world.

And then I handed off my gear to an alt and re-rolled her, thinking differently about the character choices this time. Not a cute swashbuckler because of pretty swords and tattoos, but a mage with elemental leanings (a preference which would get stronger as we went along together). I wanted to get to know the world of the game and the world the players had created within it, but I was so conscious of my outsider status, my fragile justification to be there, my ignorance of The Rules. I chose the female, dark-skinned elf avatar specifically because I was giving her a warrior backstory, the “good” city made my skin crawl in a way I couldn’t yet explain, elf because long ears pretty, and… well… I was already tired of crackerjacks back then. I built as opposite as the game and my own personality allowed. Then I took her memory away so that I the writer would not need to know anything we couldn’t learn from just playing the game.

I expected it to be a short and lonely experiment, running out the subscription clock and failing at yet another popular video game.

Ha.

Within a year she was the leader of a large neutral merc guild, had a very full friends list both in and out of character, and had forged alliances with several other guilds for regular raiding parties.

Frankencomputer The First died under the weight of the game files and chatlogs and the Shuttlebox was built to take its place. I didn’t realize how much writing with my friends had become part of - or perhaps the heart of - the game for me, until one night a stranger randomly tipped me money for a story we were telling in the tavern. I wrote a macro to scrape game command junk from the chatlogs and ran a few nights’ files through.

For Science.

Once I finished the scrape and manual deletion of stuff i couldn’t macro, I learned apparently Keris had taken us to a place where writing 30k words on an average weekend was normal. Without me ever noticing. Because you see - the journaling was still hard, but not as hard, and it hit in a different way. I thought I was struggling to manage three pages of fictional journal every week, but actually I was writing thousands of words of improv every night. No wonder my hands hurt. (Yes, my then-therapist laughed at me. I am not very smart.)

Anyway, I set aside some time in about… 2006? to answer the question of how much of this accidental mountain of story was beholden to the original game content that helped me find my voice again. Turned out that most of the direct references to the game could be swapped with a dozen other fantasy IPs with very little impact to the actual stories I and my closest collaborators were telling. While the game was very much high fantasy, high-stakes, binary heroes and villains… these stories were not. Even the proud leader of this mercenary company was a million shades of gray and far more concerned with the lives and happiness of her soldiers than the rise and fall of the citystates and factions they worked for.

I asked the (dangerous) what if question of what might become if I built a new world for these stories? A world that addressed issues I had with the source material and others like it? What elements would I need to keep and were they unique to that source or were they just… archetypes and tropes? What would happen if I freed my little cast from the confines of that borrowed world and dependence on other storytellers with time and spoons and a yearning for stories in compatible veins? Could I build something that big and sprawling and take any satisfaction in the result?

Thus, Dark Tapestry was born.

After Keris came all the people around her. Rokoval and Merezin, Fahlanin and Urg’Tak, Chryso and Serevhin and Airold and Cir and Pietor and Jaelle. Anyone and everyone Keris needed to interact with was (perhaps still is) in danger of Becoming Part Of The Cast the moment the narrative forced us to learn their Name and The Place And People They Come From.

Fahlanin il Rex the young and headstrong moonborn commoner is a great example of this: I really just needed someone to pole the gondola. Keris however, being an idiot(affectionate), tried to bribe the civil servant driving said gondola to drop her at a different location and pretend they’d never met. Fahl had opinions about this and within a few chapters she was pushing the plot around.

Davri came about because he had a stoneborn proverb to share in a council meeting where I was showing the Amicae guided by representatives from every culture in the then-known world. Keris made an offhand comment about relying on his advice and personal loyalty, so I pressed on that until she revealed why.

When I pressed her for where her little penchant for picking up oggish came from, given her otherwise fastidious behavior in personal connections, I discovered a delightfully bawdy and probably unprintable story in her distant past and the origin story for Hrrg’tk (moves-stone) The First Oggish Mage.

Not everyone in the stable descends from a tangle of what-if-and-why though.

A call for themed submissions from a small fantasy romance press led to me building Maleta, the protagonist and narrator of 9th Division. I actually worked up a proper character outline for her - mostly inspired by the submission requirements and research into the publisher’s range - a rough plot, and deliberately outlined with narrative roles instead of actual characters for the first pass. I went back into those bare bones with my worldbuilding notes open to flesh out the two Love Interests, the Surface Antagonist, the Red Herrings, the Unlikely Ally, the Mentor, the Expert, the Big Bad, the Victims, and so on. I chose a promising spot in the world timeline, a few Important Political Figures to mention in the city, and by the time I finished the manuscript I’d also brought in a couple of supporting characters from Keris’ stories (including a brief cameo by Keris herself).

And so you see some of OCs really are only inspired but such boring details as The Plot Requires A Farmer, where other OCs — especially in the fic I’ve written — are inspired by the equally boring but far more self-serving grounds of I want to read a story with a character like that.

Or both.

Prime example: Nialet. I needed a farmer very far from the center of power whom our favorite disaster king would trust with a delicate political situation, and based on what he values in the people close him, and a throwaway (ha) name and vague profile from another piece, voila. The longer I kept her around though, the more I liked her and wanted to know about her. I found i was interested in reading the kind if story that would center a narrative like hers, and thus Day Arising was begun. (Outline is done, and more prose than is posted, but life rather interrupted the fleshing-it-out-process. Hopefully I will get back to it soon…)

[pain-suffering-even]

adding more because the brainrot is real

One of the things Jongin and Yoonho bicker about is Jongin being a private school kid - not only that, but boarding school too. He makes fun of Jongin for being rich and Jongin makes fun of Yoonho for being rasied by wolves

Byungyu got a parrot when he retired, just so he would have something to take care of. He is teaching it every swear word in every language. Jongin is highly amused by it. Jinchul is almost glad Byungyu retired

Jinchul learned to mediate and multitask from taking care of his two younger siblings after his mom left and his dad decided not to pick up the slack. He's a little bitter about it still, but that's why he's so hardworking all the time

Haein and Eunseok became friends during their time in the Fame Guild with Ma Dongwook

Jongin makes fun of Yoonho for graying when he's barely 30 - its because Yoonho's hair goes white when he activates his power, but Jongin insists he's graying

Byungyu wanted to be a diagnostician due to not ever knowing what condition his grandma passed away from - he was in school for about two or three years, but when the gates appeared, he awakened as an S rank, so his dream of being a doctor was shattered since his mana was just too high to be around normal people

Haein didn't have very many friends growing up since her family moved around a lot, due to her parents being in the military

Taegyu used to tease Jongin for always having soot on his fingertips from being a mage, until he realized it was the buildup of charcoal on his fingers from drawing so much. Apparently, Jongin likes to draw whenever he can't sleep.

No matter how much Taegyu asks if Jongin has drawn him he will never answer. He knows he won't be able to live it down

There are portrait drawings of everyone, but specifically, Jongin loves recreating photos in charcoal. Sometimes, if he's inspired enough, he tries to recreate them in oil pastels. His favorite project is one of Yoonho's dogs from a photo he posted. Jongin would sooner die than admit it

Haein goes by herself to see as many movies as she can. She always enjoyed watching films when she was growing up, and if she continued school, she would have minored in it. She goes by herself because Jongin is too cynical about the endings

Byungyu loves bug hunting. One of his favorite things to do in retirement is take his pet parrot out on a walk and just see what he can find in the fields of Jeonju, his and Yoonho's hometown

Before the Jeju island fiasco, the island was fought for and traded hands many times before falling into the ownership of The Fiend Guild. Taegyu feels partially responsible for how things turned out, since he could never defeat the gate over the span of those three years...

Jinchul would love to keep up with Byungyu but he is too busy to spare time to go down to Jeonju

there you have it. i finished this draft real quick since i've been on hiatus for so long - something to tide you guys over.

also! i haven't seen the anime yet, but honestly i'm going to ignore it lmao. my headcanons and plots are already pretty insane and i think i'm just going to stick to them and enjoy the anime as it is. from what i've seen, they've changed some stuff here and there, and have made canon certain character designs i made up differently.

various headcanons that i forgot aren't actually canon

just the koreans cause if i did everyone at once, we would be here forever

Jongin and Yoonho were both part of the Fiend Guild, and that's where their rivalry started, by competing for vice guildmaster

Jongin rescued a cat from Jeju during their first raid and smuggled her back in his cape. Her name is Kiwi. He had to get a new cape because she uses his old one to sleep

Byungyu and Yoonho are childhood friends. Byungyu would always defend Yoonho, because he was so much of a softie and a crybaby as a kid

Yoonho has like. A bajillion animals at home. At some point when he's walking his dogs during a hot summer, he goes topless, and the picture reaches the papers so fast. It gets brought up in almost every single argument with Jongin

Taegyu will eat sour candy until his mouth bleeds and it sends Byungyu insane

Eunseok was an S rank assassin part of the Fame Guild, and was best friends with Byungyu and Haein

Haein was first vice of the Fame Guild before Jongin created the Hunter's Guild and stole her (he promised her no paperwork if she joined, and she was sold)

Hwang Dongsu used to be part of the Knights Guild. He joined, thinking as an S ranker he would immediately become the guild leader. When that didn't happen, he began searching overseas, where Thomas Andre ran into him and picked him up

Byungyu felt too guilty to dedicate himself to one guild, and so he freelances for a high price, so this way he can help more people instead of being tied down. It made it easier to retire, too. The running joke is that he wants to join the Hunters Association

Taegyu and Dongwook had a healthy rivalry between the Fiend and Fame guild. They don't know where Jongin and Yoonho learned to be rivals like that

The Fiend Guild used to be no. 1 until Jongin rose to the top by recruiting Haein and gathering a lot of attention by being a guild leader as a mage

Taegyu and Jongin still talk often. Jongin always makes fun of Taegyu for being ancient and forgotten and Taegyu calls him an arrogant brat. They would die for one another

Just before he became no. 1, Jongin had a really bad fight with Hwang Dongsu. It wasn't unusual, because most other S rankers despise him, since he was blatantly power hungry and bloodthirsty. Because Jongin lost, he ended up leaving Taegyu and the Fiend Guild and created his own guild in an attempt to prove his strength

Jongin despises Yoonho for hiring Hwang Dongsu's brother, Dongsuk, because he still holds a grudge

Jinchul doesn't like Taegyu very much, because he kept trying to bribe him to join the Fiend Guild. They're ok now, especially now that the Fiend Guild isn't no. 1, but Jinchul avoids Taegyu still

Go Gunhee used to pretend actually entertaining the idea of letting Jinchul join a guild until Jinchul told him it was causing problems on his end (Thomas got sad Gunhee said no and Jinchul was terrified that sadness would turn to anger)

During the holidays, Yoonho always takes his dogs and one cat back home with him. Byungyu also goes, so it's become a sort of yearly roadtrip for them. Yoonho usually asks Taegyu or Haein to pet-sit the rest of his animals while he's away

Haein likes fast food restaurants. Neither Jongin nor Dongwook understand why, but she drags them there all the same

Jinchul appreciates Byungyu and Haein, since they always mediate Yoonho and Jongin whenever he isn't around to stop them. It doesn't always work, but at least they tried

Haein doesn't know Jinchul is the origin for her nickname, The Dancer, because he was creating her hunter profile and was mesmerized by the way she fought. He mentioned it to Go Gunhee, and it kinda spiraled from there

[stargazer-dreamer]

It’s on the Tip of My Tongue Chapter 1

character: yami sukehiro

content warnings: misunderstandings

reader: gender neutral; ring magic user

chapter list: 1 [you are here], 2

notes: also on ao3. 2k word count. pre-relationship (but we’re getting somewhere). part of the stoprewind verse

Your room, when presented to you, was covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. It took you a considerable while to feather and air it out—but you just couldn’t find the time to roll up your sleeves and get down to the dirt and grime of it all. Between that, imprinting locations with Finral, reviewing all your past and future responsibilities, and preparing for the transfer into the Black Bulls, you found little time to settle into your new home within the base.

You didn’t even get the chance to mingle with any of its other members, much less the captain himself. He talked real big, but you’ve hardly seen a glimpse of him all week. This frustrated you—he wandered in, in the middle of your day-to-day operations, uprooted your entire lifestyle, demanded you work under him specifically, yet he has not greeted you once. If he was going to be this sort of captain, he would have to earn your respect.

You, however, were finding a quick friend in the spatial mage—going from location to location got boring fairly quickly and, as polite as he was, he seemed to drop the act when Yami wasn’t looking.

“He works me to death! You know how hard it is managing funds while having to pay out property damages every other day, in between having to joyride him around the country? I have to do paperwork on the road!” Finral stepped through his own portal and waited patiently on the other side for you. “It’s the worst, really.”

There must have been a change to your expression, since he seemed to backtrack a little bit. “But it’s not so bad! Really! Now that you’re here, I’ll have more time to work through it!” He scratched at the back of the neck as his gaze traveled. A tilt of the head—like he was debating on saying his next words. “And he seemed pretty sincere when he said you’d only be doing the transportation thing. He usually leaves me to my own devices until he’s ready to head back or move locations, so you’ll probably get a lot of downtime…!”

He smiled at you, good-naturedly. “Lucky you.”

This did not help improve your quickly souring impression on the captain. You spared a moment to mark the area before moving on to the next. It turns out, Finral had well-over a hundred different locations he had imprinted upon, not including the local area—and the captain wanted you to retain all of them! The nerve!

Hardly ever having left your hometown, the sudden increase to your mental magic map took a little while to get used to; and with it rapidly expanding every day, it was a bit overwhelming, to say the least. Finral must have realized this early on, dividing up his list into digestible sections throughout the week—but the two of you were far from done yet. First came the important locations, then the common ones, next were the useful areas, followed by the more niche places…

Despite Yami’s command of all of Finral’s impressions, the two of you found no need to share his more personal locations, such as his family home and room back at the base. Those were for Finral specifically, and there was no need to hand over such keys.

As a seasoned spatial mage, his senses were naturally more adept at managing a mental map of the world; for you, it was far from the case. After going at it for a few hours, you found that you developed headaches that could only be mended with proper rest or mana-regaining methods, such as specialized drinks or medicine Finral would graciously provide. It was more of a nuisance than anything else—all you wanted to do was finish this first task, but you couldn’t handle the load.

That’s something you admired about Finral; he was a pretty capable mage.

The day finally arrived when the documents were properly filed; Captain Yami Sukehiro stood you in front of the rest of the squadron and introduced you properly—as properly as it seemed he could manage, at least—followed by a multitude of questions from everyone in the room.

Instead of navigating through the sea of voices yourself, the captain made short work of it for you. “No fighting, no hazing, no eating; you just ate, no looking at pictures, no one can hear you, no shopping—we’re busy.”

“We are?” you asked before he handed you, rather unceremoniously, the infamous black robe.

“Yes,” he replied, short, before addressing the squad once more. “This is my new ride, so I won’t be sharing. Finral’s still here, if you need quick transport.” You sputtered at his choice of words—his ride? Sharing?

“Oh! So you use spatial magic too?“ A starry-eyed boy inched closer. “That’s so cool! Can I see?”

“Oh, no,” you shook your head, but at his continued interest, showed him the band encircling one of your fingers anyway. Haunted by the memory of your shoddy escape the week prior, you started wearing multiple rings on both hands, in addition to keeping one tucked away in your grimoire pouch, just in case. “While I do use a form of spatial magic, I’m actually—”

“What did I just say?” You didn’t need to turn around to know who was towering behind you, the mana in the air stirring like crazy.

Despite that, the boy carried on, unfazed. “But sir! The use of any teleportation magic must take an incredible amount of control—”

“Which is why I need you to bugger off, so my ride can be in top condition for me. C’mon,” with a glance in your direction, he gestured with a jerk of the head and walked towards the front door.

Stepping outside in the dancing shadow of the trees, you were struck at the difference in lighting, how striking he really was. Out in the morning sunshine, you forgot the words you held for him for over a week. The blue morning glow of the waking sun didn’t do him justice, if this is what he truly looked like, underneath the new warm hue. The thin undershirt he wore did little to hide anything—especially since he chose to wear nothing over said shirt—skin all but bared to the world, in all it’s severe beauty.

He was a warrior alright and had the scars to match, crisscrossing his skin in rough patches; down his arms, across his shoulders, and up higher, to the one bisecting his brow, and the one set at the corner of his mouth.

To keep from staring at his lips, your eyes lowered to his jaw, and focused in on the stubble, down his neck, evolving into the hair leading to the peek of his toned chest underneath it all.

Suddenly, you felt the need for a cold drink. You spun a band circled around a finger. “Um,” you began. “Captain Yami Sukehiro?”

“Just Yami’s fine,” he said, and went to light a cigarette.

“Captain Yami,” you said instead, resulting in a click of his tongue and quirk of his brow. Actually just Yami, I guess. You’d work on it. For now, you were trying to remember what it was that you had been meaning to say to him.

He led you out here with some type of purpose. You stopped fretting with the robe in your hands. You had to speak your mind, first and foremost.

“Yami,” you met his eyes. Steel. Like his blade, you did not know how much power it hid. But you were not afraid. “You said you wanted me for my magic. You may be my captain now, but I do not intend to be taken advantage of. I will not be overworked.”

His reply was instantaneous. It was different than before, when he walked out of the alleyway; instead of his entire being, this laugh came from the chest—throwing his head back with the force of it. Your eyes widened, before it clicked. Before, you felt as if he was laughing at you—now, it was something different entirely.

He smiled at you, big and proud, and declared—“I like you.” Warmth welled up inside as a weight seemed to lift itself off of you; like the smoke rising from his lips. He lifted a hand and before you knew it, he was ruffling the hair atop your head. “I don’t give jobs to people who can’t handle it.” You blinked. “Don’t sweat it—you’re my ride. Simple as that.”

So what Finral told you was true. You were so lost in that thought, you didn’t notice Yami’s hand go to smooth out your hair, running down, until it stilled, cupping the side of your face. You felt warmth once more, but not from the inside. “What—what are you—”

“Getting to know one another, like I said we would.” Before you could piece together what he meant, he pinched at your cheek.

“Ack!”

“You’re too serious,” he said, like a statement. “You’ve been running around all week. Every time I tried to find you, you were off doing some other thing. When you were here, you were either off with Finral or busy in your room. When was I supposed to be with you?”

It sounded distinctly like a pout. You stood there, rubbing at your cheek, staring at him. Yami Sukehiro, with a plume of smoke surrounding him, trying to wave it away. Like a distraction. He shifted his feet. Put his hands in his pockets. Removed one to scratch at the back of his neck.

He clicked his tongue. The robe you had resumed fretting with was snatched from you, and before you could even process it, Yami’s hands were at your front, doing up the button and straightening up the hood around your shoulders. “You’re a Black Bull,” his eyes were downcast, focusing on his work. And then, quieter: “I said I wanted you.”

You remembered the alleyway, and the sun eclipsing him; his touch, and the way he held your hand. “Oh,” was all you could manage. The transfer was busy work. He must have not realized that. And when he gestured to your still fretting hands, all you could do was stare harder.

“You have more this time,” his hands went back into his pockets. “That’s good, for you.”

The subject change nearly gave you whiplash, despite the pause between. “Um, thanks?”

“Yeah. Anyways, mark this one too.”

It was a simple band. Black, with no embellishments; and when he tilted it in the light, it seemed to swallow the sunshine whole. Dark and—when you got a closer look—incredibly inviting. As you held it in your hand, you noticed it was lightweight. Sturdy, with a smooth finish. Whichever material it was made of felt powerful where it sat. Indestructible. It would not shatter so easily.

It was only after you marked it did you realize you’ve never imprinted upon a ring that didn’t belong to a family member.

After you were done, he slipped it on—left hand, ring finger. His non-dominate hand. A good choice, for his fighting style; he wouldn’t have to worry about changing the way he handled the grip of his sword. It would be out of the way, but at the ready if he needed it.

“There,” he said, with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You tried not to stare. “Had it made. Figured I’d need one for myself—your hands are puny.”

You sputtered. “Not everyone is as big as you!”

He carried on as if you didn’t say anything. “Thought maybe, if you gave me one of yours, I could wear it on a chain or something. But that seemed like a hassle, so this was what I got instead.”

He held his hand up to the light. One of the things Yami was known for was his magic attribute—it seemed fitting that he would choose an accessory that physically matched the aesthetic; though, you never would have guessed he cared about that sort of thing. A black hole, it claimed space for itself; tugging you in and pulling you within his reach. His hand was warm, when your fingers intertwined.

“It’s beautiful,” you told him. The compliment, however, got drowned out by another, more pressing noise.

“Attaboy, Captain!” someone cheered from an open window. Then, from someone at the front door—“I’m happy you found the perfect ring!”

You turned to see what seemed like the entire base crowded around each other in windows and the entranceway, making no effort to hide themselves as they watched the two of you.

“That’s the man’s way!” The man with the mohawk pumped his fist in the air. “Straightforward!”

The witch held up a bottle, “Let’s celebrate!”

The short one next to her nodded enthusiastically, “We’ll have a feast!”

The man with the hair covering his eye looked surprised. “So this is what they meant when they said Yami was after someone…”

It appeared, where you stood, that there had been a major misunderstanding. Rumors are already spreading in the workplace—on your first day, nonetheless! Involving your boss. Your mother had warned you to stay out of Black Bull scandals; but there you were, in front of the entire squadron, probably ruining Yami’s reputation even more. You dreaded the headlines already—the immigrant Magic Knight captain, abusing his position of authority. Alternatively: the rookie mage, a golddigger.

In your horror, you spotted Finral in the back. Meeting your eyes, he gave you a thumbs up.

“What are you bums doing standing around for?!” Yami charged forth. “Go find some work, all of you!”

Scrambling out of sight, the group dispersed rapidly. Based on the shielded grins and fading laughter, you did not think that reaction cleared up anything at all. What a start to the day.

[tartglias]

almost falling (headcanons)

characters: scaramouche and xiao

warnings: VIOLENCE. i’m 98% sure i kept it slight but just in case don’t read if you’re sensitive please!!

request: “Anyway, so I'm requesting for Xiao and Scaramouche (fitting, they're sadists HAHA) their s/o (separate) is about to be thrown off the balcony after someone pushed them and hit the railings and they're about to hang on edge of their life. The boys just came back after whatever mission or errand they finished and saw the blasphemous attempt of a masochist (because how DARE they attempt such on their s/o?) Trying to kill their love. They sprinted or used their powers to get to them and stopped calamity from unraveling (sorta) into their world. Yes add some Overprotectiveness and probs them hunting to rip that masochist's head if it's not too much. Headcanons pls--“

[a/n: i loved this headcanon and i knew what you write from the start (which i never do lol), but the mental gymnastics i had to do to find the vocabulary omg... i can’t say i’m a big fan of how this turned out because of that]

•••••

Scaramouche

Scaramouche had to do some business in Mondstadt, and since you wanted to visit your friend Amber, why not accompany him? It took a while to convince him since he usually doesn’t like the idea of mixing his personal and work lives, but he has a soft spot for you, believe it or not. Not that he would ever admit it.

Before he left you to do your things, he made you promise to meet him at the Good Hunter after an hour, on the dot. He had a busy schedule, but he still wanted to treat you lunch so you excitedly agreed by kissing his cheek and nodding.

After the meeting, he hoped to see you sitting down at one of the tables waiting for him, but instead, he saw no one. “I thought I made myself clear about punctuality” he thought.

“Did you see my partner? They’re about this height tall, *hair color* and probably accompanied by some friend called Amber?” he asked the girl that took orders at the Good Hunter, with a very obvious fake smile. “Not really, I’m sorry” she said, giving an apologetic look, which quickly turned into a frown. “Although, I thought Outrider Amber was out on a mission today. She even ordered some food supplies this morning, are you sure your partner was with her?”

He took a moment to think. He knows you were meeting with Amber because you kept rambling about how you haven’t seen her in forever and you wanted to surprise her. He can’t recall a time when you lied to him, either. Something about having an honest and open relationship with him, so you couldn’t have lied. And you wouldn’t leave the city without informing him, either.

So he decided to scratch out the possibility of having to search you through all Mondstadt. Then, he nodded towards the girl and left without saying a word.

Walking through the city, he paid attention to details. Something was off, he was sure of it.

After a while, he heard a yell. At first he wasn’t going to do anything about it, it’s not his problem plus he still has to find you. But when he realized the owner of the voice yelled “Leave me alone!”, he knew it was you. He ran towards the origin of the sound and found out that you were on top of the wall that protected Mondstadt.

He climbed as fast as he could and when he got to the top, his blood boiled at the sight.

A big tall man was holding your arms tightly, and then pushed you to the edge. Your back hit the railing and you let out a pained yell. You saw the man approach you with intentions of pushing you again, but before you could lift your arms to protect yourself, you heard thunder.

“You heard them, leave them alone. Now” you heard Scaramouche say. The atmosphere became dark and tense very quick, making a shiver go down your spine.

The man let out a short laugh. “You can’t intimidate me so easily. They were mine first, I’m just reclaiming my property”

Oh boy

“I don’t think you heard me, stupid. Leave them alone, now. Or I’ll make sure you suffer the most painful and slow tortures ever imagined. I have a whole book I want to test out anyways, you know.” Scaramouched threatened, and when you saw the look on his face, you gasped. You never saw him like that

He had a creepy smile, no, it was the smile of a sadist, actually. Small thunders came out of his fingers, and by each second, they grew stronger. You noticed that the man started shaking, now reconsidering everything. Scaramouche tilted his head a bit and let out a laugh. “You don’t want to play anymore?”

The man quickly left, or more like ran for his life without sparing you a second glance. You dropped down to the floor and noticed the sky get clearer, and so did the sound of thunder. You were still teary-eyed and overwhelmed from the situation with the man, but you lifted up your head to see a calmer Scaramouche.

You didn’t notice before, but his purple eyes were sparkling with pink thunder, and once he kneeled down in front of you, they turned back to their original color.

He wrapped his arms around you, keeping you close and away from the edge. “Are you alright, my beloved?” he asked you, a hint of concern filling his face. “Now I am. Scaramouche... I never saw you like that” you said, holding his hands that previously let out sparks and thunder.

You heard him sigh. “I lost control. Your scream and then seeing you almost falling... it made me snap. I can’t lose you.”

You kissed him, hoping that this way he can understand that you’re not scared of him and also reassuring him you’re not going anywhere either.

“You scared him for life” you said once you pulled away, laughing slightly. “I’ll scare him for eternity because he won’t be alive after I catch him”

Xiao

He told you numerous times to call his name if you ever found yourself in trouble. Even if it’s just a whisper, a thought even, you just have to say “Xiao” and he would drop whatever he was doing to come to rescue you.

In full honestly, you thought you could handle things on your own. You didn’t need him to come to rescue you, unless a very real danger was knocking on your door. Which unfortunately, leads to this situation.

Moments earlier, you were at the top floor of the inn, waiting for Xiao to come back. Everything was normal, until you noticed two suspicious looking men approach you. At first, you didn’t think much of it since adventurers often ask you for certain locations or roads. But this thought quickly changed when one of them came from behind, a little too close for your liking, before covering your mouth with his hand.

“A little birdie told us you’re close to an adeptus” one of the two men said, standing in front of you with a smug smile. “We need a favor”

It happened very quick, you were fighting for your life as you screamed and tried to kick the man holding you down. You almost succeeded, if it wasn’t for the other man in front of you. He held your arms tightly and pushed you towards the edge, you lost your balance and tripped over it, but quickly managed to grab onto the railing.

“Go on. Call the adeptus for help, we’ll love to have a small chat with-“ the man started saying, but got cut off by a strong wind that made him trip over. It was Xiao.

His eyes immediately landed on you, you were trying so hard to lift yourself up but you were slowly slipping. You weren’t going to last much longer and rage filled both his body and mind almost instantly.

How dare they lay a finger on you to get to him? “Worthless. Pathetic. Stupid.” he muttered each time he hit the men, until knocking them out. His eyes went back to you, and he immediately sprinted towards the railing.

But he was late

Your hands that desperately tried to grip the railing and lift yourself up were red and they hurt, and just when he was about to extend his hand for you to take, you slipped and fell.

You thought it was over, truly. You yelled out Xiao’s name as you tried to get hold of anything that could possibly prevent you from hitting the ground, but you were far away and the floor was coming closer and closer. You closed your eyes, ready to face your end.

But that end didn’t come, and you found yourself wrapped in Xiao’s arms while strong winds surrounded you, keeping you from hitting the ground abruptly. Once his feet touched the floor, you heard a faint sigh of relief from him.

Now on the ground, you dropped to the floor while you sobbed in Xiao’s arms, suddenly very aware of how close you came to meeting death. He kept you close to his body, as if you’re gonna slip away from him again. He faced many monsters and wrath in his life, but he never felt as scared as he did at the moment.

“I’m sorry” Xiao muttered out once your crying calmed down. Drying your tears with the sleeve of your shirt, you looked at him questioningly. “You almost died because they were after me”

This made you cry more

He was kind of confused? Why were you crying again?

“Xiao you don’t have to apologize because its not your fault at all and you also saved me! I should apologize for not being careful and tripping!” you sobbed again. “But it’s not your fault either...” he whispered as he patted your head, not sure how to calm you down.

Xiao doesn’t kill humans, but nothing is going to stop him from making hilichurls, mages, and other monsters appear in the way of these two men. He’s going to make them pay (indirectly)

[sondepoch]

HC: MC breaks a bone!

Demons can’t break bones. Neither can angels. Nope, from head to toe, they’re pretty much indestructible. So imagine everyone’s utter shock when you break a bone, and they’re reminded of just how weak the human body really is.

Word Count: 5.2k

SFW + mild violence + mild description of broken bones 

Characters: All Brothers + All Undateables + Luke

MASTERLIST

Lucifer

Boi flips out

So it didn’t actually happen while he was around, which is why he has so much trouble understanding what happened

You tripped on the steps outside Majolish? And you fell the wrong way??? And somehow, that was enough for you to break your ankle?!?!?!

Poor baby, he has no idea how he’s going to relay the information to Diavolo

When Mammon and Asmo sheepishly enter his study to tell him what happened, they’re highkey terrified for their lives - but learning that you actually broke a bone has him so shook that he doesn’t even remember to punish them, and he’s instead rushing to your room to see the damage for himself

He sees Belphie napping on your stomach and sort of assumes that everything is okay, and that his brothers were making a big deal out of nothing

Then he gets closer and sees the horribly twisted angle your left foot is in

Suffice it to say, neither Mammon nor Asmo returned to their rooms fully unscathed that night

Overcomes his natural hatred of Solomon to call him and ask for—brace yourself—help, and when the mage offers to cast a spell that will revert your body to its prior state, Lucifer insists on doing it himself, no longer trusting anyone else with your all-too-fragile body

Relocates your room to the first floor of the house after all is said and done

Asks Diavolo to move all your classes such that you don’t need to climb any stairs

Refuses to believe you when you tried to insist that bones breaking is fairly common for humans

Becomes super overprotective

Insists on helping you with everything

“Lucifer, I can walk down the stairs myself, you know.”

“Yes, I’m sure you can” - he says with a straight face, refusing to let go of your hand as he takes you down the two-step elevation outside the House of Lamentation

(Bonus:) One day he catches you and Levi looking at parkour videos and from that moment and onward he refuses to let you out of sight for any longer than is absolutely necessary

(Bonus bonus:) Catches you doing "parkour" in your bedroom, jumping from Beel’s shoulders to the bed, and then it becomes a new house rule that you’re not allowed to climb onto Beel’s shoulders

Mammon

He was with you when it happened, and the second he heard the crack, he screamed

Honestly, the most high-pitched, shrill sound you’d ever heard

You were more scared of the noise coming out of Mammon’s mouth than the awkward way your pinky was dangling

Only when he was done screaming did the pain actually set in, and then you were hissing viciously in an attempt to distract yourself, trying your hardest to blink the tears from your eyes because Mammon already looked like he was about to cry, and the Devildom really didn’t need two blubbering messes in one day

The one saving grace for you both was the fact that Simeon was nearby, and he used his Celestial magic to heal you (you both begged him not to tell Lucifer, of course)

Baby becomes even more possessive over you afterwards

Still can’t get over how easily it happened

“Are ya sure?” Mammon asks whenever you casually tell him you’re about to do something. Doesn’t matter if you say you’re folding paper cranes or planning on jumping off the roof of the House of Lamentation, he’s lost pretty much all faith in your ability to do anything without your human body breaking in the process

Oddly enough, he becomes much more touchy with you

Needs you to “prove to him” that you’re not injured by squeezing his hand

And then he just doesn’t let go

Oh, you’re holding hands? What? Who said that? Wait, can you prove that you’re not injured and squeeze his hand again? It’s for safety purposes. For safety.

Occasionally, though, he really does have you move your pinky just to prove to him that there weren’t any lasting effects

Overprotectiveness increases by 500 points

Starts to hover around your room a lot more, awkwardly trying to help (really, he’s doing his best) but often doing things much worse than if you simply did them yourself

Gets into a fight with his brothers whenever one of them handles you too roughly

“Hey!” He shouts at pretty much anyone who touches you “Ya gonna hurt my human!”

Will drop anything and everything if he ever sees you trip to catch your fall

Legit, he was once holding Lucifer’s cup of coffee and out of the corner of his eye, he saw you jump to flop on the couch. Cue instant panic mode: he turned into his demon form and all - literally throwing the coffee on Lucifer as he ran forward to catch your body before the couch could break any of your bones

Yeah, he got into a lot of trouble that day

Leviathan

Has officially decided that he’s never going outside again

Ever.

It happened while you were both at one of Lord Diavolo’s parties - you were trying to maneuver the crowds in search of him, actually, and another demon tugged you close and tried to force you to dance. You fought back, of course, frowning as you escaped the demon’s hold, but apparently, they pulled you back and your wrist just snapped

God, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the sound of your scream

The demon was punished severely, Diavolo made sure of that. But Levi didn’t care anymore - he just wanted to get you back home, safe and sound

In the following days, he never leaves your side

You have to switch to online classes, at least for as long as your wrist is healing, and Levi takes it upon himself to make sure that the assimilation process is as smooth as possible

You start taking all your classes together, remaining in the same room even if you don’t have the same subject

Homework is a little harder, since Levi usually finishes before you, but he waits for you to finish while he reads manga

Evenings are spent watching anime in his room and debating random topics (oh, and you both marathon the entirety of TSL a couple more times ;))

He even tries to let you get the video game experience, and he picks an RPG game for you both to play and lets you tell him what to do an how to move around, since your wrist is broken

It’s actually super fun because he knows where all the traps are and which ones you’ll like, so he subtly guides your character through the gameplay process to get the best possible experience, and you actually end up enjoying this more than playing solo

(As a joke, he once offers to let you play with him. As in, you use your nonbroken hand to control the left side of the controller and he controls the right side, but that turns out to be a hot mess and you both quickly abandon the idea)

Even after your wrist heals, the two of you continue to spend boatloads of time together

This boy even stops calling you “normie” at one point

Real subtle about it but he tries to convince you not to go back into society again. Like ever. 

“What if you get hurt again?” He asks when you tell him you’ve made plans with Asmo to go shopping

“Then we get to spend even more time together, all over again!”

Cue leviathan/blushingmess.exe

Satan

Probably the ONLY brother to have actually known that it’s possible for humans to break bones

Why?

He read about it in a book once

Still, that doesn’t stop him from visually flinching when he sees you writhing on the ground after being shoved into a bike rack by a lower-level demon, clutching your arm which is disfigured so awkwardly that the bone is popping out

His demon form manifests immediately, and he’s about to rip this demon to shreds when you desperately call out his name, and then he’s more preoccupied with helping you than he is with beating this demon to death

(Inwardly, though, he’s quite relieved that you stopped him from killing the demon immediately. Now, he’ll get to spend the next four millennia torturing the creature slowly, keeping it just an inch from death until he’s satisfied that the demon has paid for injuring you so severely. :))

Runs over to you immediately and pulls you onto his lap, quickly muttering an enchantment that will temporarily numb the pain

Proceeds to ask you whether you want him to use magic to forcefully heal you or if you want to heal the human way

Will respect your wishes 100% no matter which you choose

Throws himself into reading and studying human medicine as soon as the two of you get back to the House of Lamentation

By the end of the month, he’s an expert on human anatomy (and where human strength lies on a comparative figure to demon strength)

Takes it upon himself to watch out for you, threatening any demons who express behavior that isn’t excessively cautious

Starts walking with you and Mammon to and from school

Keep it lowkey, but the truth is that he doesn’t trust his brother to fully make sure that you’re safe so he takes it upon himself

Doesn’t really panic too much, he knows that you getting injured was more the demon’s fault than it was yours

Is actually very considerate of your feelings in all this

Consciously makes sure that he doesn’t treat you too differently, not wanting to make you feel like he thinks you’re weak. But he no longer trusts other demons around you, and after getting your permission, he casts an enchantment on you which prevents lower-level demons from touching you without your explicit consent

Smiles devilishly every single time one of them tries to shove you in the hallways of RAD and gets sent flying 30 meters backwards in response

Devilish smile intensifies when he finally gets around to kidnapping and torturing the demon who dared to push and injure you in the first place

Asmodeus

He’s worried about you for a good hour

Not to say he’s inconsiderate

No, he’s understandably concerned immediately after he sees you on crutches, and when you come home with a broken foot, he’s immediately hanging out with you and completely (read: barely) restraining himself from making flirtatious comments in case you’re still in pain

The second he realizes that you’re fine as long as you don’t apply pressure on it, a switch flips

Now that he knows that the fracture isn’t going to spread to the rest of your body and destroy you from the inside, he’s overwhelmed with how cute it is that you need his help to do basic stuff

And honestly, you kinda vibe with it

He’s the shortest brother, so you having to ask him for help to get things off the shelf because you can’t stand is a rarity, and he is living for it

He lives with six overlords of hell, so the feeling of someone asking (no matter how reluctant) him for help in simple stuff like climbing up or down the stairs is something he absolutely cherishes

The second he realizes how good it feels to do stuff for you, he’ll never stop

Will 100% put Mammon to shame in how frequently he starts hanging by your side

He thinks of everything even before you do, always making sure that when you guys sit down, you have everything you need to be occupied for hours: from water to nail polish to the latest gossip at RAD, this man will make it his life’s mission to be the perfect prince while you’re injured

Seriously spoils you

Even when you finally heal and get better, he doesn’t stop helping you

Actually has the nerve to start complaining when you try to do stuff on your own

“You’re going to hurt yourself! Let me do it for you!”

“Asmo, I’m microwaving popcorn”

It doesn’t matter if you shower him with 'thank yous’ or if you grunt in annoyance every time he sits down next to you with an item you were about to get up and look for, he knows you appreciate the things he’s doing and that’s all he needs

Effectively gives you the royal treatment, occasionally putting Barbatos to shame with how diligent he is in helping you out

It never stops, even months after you’ve made a full recovery

Then again, who are you to complain? ;)

Beelzebub

Suddenly becomes terrified of his own strength

He’s there as it happens, and the way your face immediately contorts in pain right before you bite your lip to stop yourself from screaming will really never stop haunting him

It doesn’t help that you get injured from something that would usually be considered child-safe in the Devildom - a small windup toy which your fingers had gotten stuck in before two of them snap completely

Man is by your side immediately

The pit in his stomach isn’t caused by hunger but by genuine fear as he watches Lucifer and Satan soothe you with magic

He wants to run over to you and wipe your tears away, but should he? How can that be a good idea? He’s easily 1000000000x stronger than that toy you were messing around with, and what if he accidentally hurts you?

He knew it was possible for him to kill you before, but now he realizes how easy it would be - so simple that he might not even realize it

Instantly steps back and begins avoiding physical contact with you, trying his hardest to be there for you emotionally but struggling because every time you ask him for cuddles, he awkwardly changes the subject and looks away

He only comes clean to you about his concerns after you get mad at him and plant yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his head angrily as you demand that he give you affection

“Beel,” You mutter, a light pout forming on your face. “The reason you’re strong isn’t just because you have the muscles, it’s because you have control. You’ve never hurt me before, and nothing you do will hurt me now, so stop being such a stubborn goof and hug me”

Cue very hesitant hug

But it’s a start, and he slowly becomes physically close to you once more

(Subtly tries to let you stay in charge, though. He’ll initiate hugs, but you’re the one to squeeze tightly, and he’ll simply follow your lead)

Decides that rather than being afraid of what his strength can do, he’s going to use it to his advantage - and he resolves to become even stronger so that if there’s ever anything that can cause you pain, he’ll be there by your side protecting you, whether it’s against a demon strong as Diavolo or another windup toy from Majolish

Gets into the habit of running his fingers over your hand after it’s done healing, checking for scars and making sure that you’re still completely healed

Slowly develops into handholding - and who is Beel to complain? If he’s holding your hand, he’s by your side, and if he’s by your side, he can better protect you, so there’s no problem there

Belphegor

Quietly blames himself

It apparently happened while you were alone, and you fell down the stairs in the House of Lamentation. But Belphie is 99.99% sure that you were only going up to see him, and if he had just been awake, this never would have happened

Not to mention, this was the second time he had caused you pain, and it wasn’t even intentional!

Boy can’t look you in the eyes properly after the incident

Starts forcing himself to stay awake and isolates himself in the attic

Only when Beel finally gets serious and asks him what’s wrong does he quietly confess his thoughts, and his twin is quick to relay the information back to you

Honestly, you’re lowkey relieved when you hear the reason 

You were beginning to think that Belphie was avoiding you because he had grown tired of your company, and the thought was sort beginning to break your heart

That doesn’t stop you from yelling at him for being inconsiderate 

“This is why you need to talk about your feelings, Belphie!”

“But— “

“No buts!”

Honestly, he’s kind of relieved to see you yell at him so animatedly despite the cast around your arm, it makes him realize that although you’re physically injured, you’re mentally fine

Is very hesitant about napping on you, especially since he knows that if he falls asleep and accidentally shifts into a position that hurts you, you won’t be strong enough to stop him

You flick his forehead and tell him to not to be stupid, insisting that he sleeps next to you like usual, and he very hesitantly leans on the shoulder of the opposite arm you injured

Becomes way more considerate, even when tired

Shift in your sleep? He’s awake, checking to make sure that you aren’t uncomfortable or in pain

Wake up and try to get a glass of water? No problem, Belphie will get it for you, just stay here and sleep tight

Hogging the blanket? For the first time, Belphie doesn’t even mind, he’ll just carefully snuggle closer to you, double-checking that you’re comfortable before drifting back off to sleep

Even after the cast comes off, he’s still conscious about how tightly he grips you and how much physical exertion you put your body through, always reminding himself that, above all, you’re human and your body can’t handle the things his can

Solomon

Groans

That’s right, thanks to an awkward fall, your toe is broken, and this wizard boy has to audacity to groan at the sight of you on the floor, tears in your eyes as you clutch your foot through your shoe

“As if those brothers don’t hate me enough as is,” He grumbles, lifting you to your feet and whisking you back to Purgatory Hall, where he goes full medic mode and inspects the damage

Tries his hardest to convince you to let him fix it with magic, but just last week, he accidentally turned you into a cat while attempting to place a strength enchantment over you, so you’re understandably hesitant as you refuse him

As expected, when the brothers find out, they put him through hell (pun intended)

For not being able to protect you while it happens (they ignore his complaints that it was technically you who fell and injured yourself) he is now tasked with your recovery

Aka he is your slave

You make him carry your books when you go from class to class, you make him buy you lunch from the cafeteria, you make him give you his lecture notes whenever you don’t feel like paying attention in class

Hell, if he weren’t such a god awful cook, you would probably make him take over your cooking duty, as well

“This is abuse” He huffs one day, sighing in irritation after you ask him to go fetch you a glass of water

“I’m sorry?” You ask, feigning innocence. “What’s that? Did you ask me to go tell Lucifer that you aren’t treating me properly?”

Grumbles under his breath in six different languages, cursing you out in each one of them as you wink at him

You’re almost sad when your toe finally heals, and he’s finally free

Thankfully, the two of you somehow grew used to each other after spending so much time together for so long, and (much to the brothers’ displeasure) you continue hanging out with Solomon long after you’re off crutches

Will tease you about it when it’s all over

He doesn’t forget about how you lorded over him for as long as you were injured, and thus takes it upon himself to make sure that you don’t get hurt again under his watch

(At least, that’s what he tells himself as he holds your hand to march you down the steps outside Majolish, not letting go even after the ‘threat’ is passed)

Simeon

confusedangel.exe

First and foremost, how did this happen??

He’s so concerned and shocked when you show up to RAD one day in crutches because you broke a bone on your leg

Didn’t know that was possible

Actually goes home and spends half an hour on the Devildom equivalent of Google trying to maneuver his phone and search up how common this is and whether it’s normal for humans

Accidentally opens the images tab and sees a bunch of super disturbing and painful-looking injuries, and he nearly drops his phone altogether

Instantly assumes that your injury is as bad as those, despite your constant reassurances that you’re fine as long as you don’t apply too much pressure

Lots of pampering

He’s suddenly available 100% of the time for you, no matter what he’s already doing or the time of day

Insists on helping you wherever he can, like holding your stuff for you at RAD, ferrying you from class to class without forcing you to don that heavy rucksack 

Even takes over the responsibility of walking you to and from school

He doesn’t quite understand that your injury is physical??

Like he can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that you’re mentally unaffected by the injury, because angelic injuries are typically so difficult to induce and severe that they always cause some kind of trauma 

He’s always testing you - double-checking that you remember facts from old lectures, holding up fingers to test your sight, even asking you details about himself every now and then

That’s actually the story of how you accidentally told him that you thought his eyes were prettier than the sky and he still hasn’t forgotten it

Never really forgets about your injury, even after your crutches are long gone

Protectiveness goes up by 5000%

He suddenly becomes acutely aware of the fact that you’re surrounded by demons and, although the brothers usually mean well, he becomes impossible concerned for how you’re faring

He expresses his concerns to you one day really sweetly and you’re so touched because ??? How can someone be this pure???

To ease his concerns, you both start hanging out a lot more - when before you mostly hung out at the RAD library before parting ways, Simeon now invites you over to Purgatory Hall more often and you bring him back to the House of Lamentation so that he can see how safe you are with the brothers

Luke

Just like Simeon, there’s so much confusion going on inside this smol bean’s head

Are you really telling him that you??? the person who has taken it upon themself to be protective over HIM??? are so weak and fragile??? that tripping over a pebble was enough to fracture your jaw???

The roles in your relationship are suddenly reversed

(Or well, Luke tries to reverse them)

He does his best to be there for you instead of vice versa, insisting that you no longer need to save him from the brothers when they make fun of him for being like a chihuahua 

Lowkey, he actually earns their respect for how protective he’s suddenly being over you, but the baby can only go so far because - face it - he’s basically ten years old

Doesn’t let that stop him from shooting dirty looks toward any demon who looks at the bandages on your face twice

Immediately goes home and researches what kind of foods you can comfortably eat, and enlists both Barbatos and Beel’s help in cooking soft dishes for you that you’ll be able to eat, despite your injury

Does his best to help you where he can

Takes over your cooking duty at the House of Lamentation

Takes extra-detailed notes so he can lend them to you after class

Even goes as far as to get high-quality Celestial bandages with natural healing properties and gives them to you, hoping that everything he’s doing will make your recovery a little bit faster

He’s really come to look up to you as an older sibling, so seeing you injured (even if you don’t necessarily show the pain) has him seriously torn up inside, and it takes all his effort to keep a straight face every time he looks at you and sees the bandages on your face

If you’re even a little self-conscious about any scars afterwards, he will spend hours convincing you that you look fine (and in truth, he can’t actually see the scar anymore, so he’s being honest)

Long after you’re recovered, he will remember at the most random times that you’re so fragile despite always looking so strong, and it tears him up inside

Because of this, random, tearful hugs become the norm

Occasionally, one look is all it takes before his eyes are welling with tears and he’s burying his face inside your stomach, holding you tight and promising to “protect you to make sure that you never get hurt again”

Very innocent, very sweet

Never fully forgets ever again just how fragile humans are

Barbatos

Knew it could happen

Was sort of prepared for it to happen

Didn’t actually expect it to fucking happen

This is probably one of the only times where he regrets not using his powers to check and see what the future held - literally, it would have been so easy to have saved you had he known it was coming 

Went to Diavolo asking to switch timelines but the demon lord said no

Highkey becomes incredibly protective of you, just in super subtle ways

You suddenly find yourself invited to Diavolo’s palace much more often, and it’s Barbatos who now entertains you, bringing you there under the guise of asking you to “taste the new recipes” he’s attempting to perfect

Pfft, his recipes are already the definition of perfect - the only reason he’s putting that food in your mouth is because he cast a spell on it, and it’ll make your bones stronger

Dodges all questions when you ask about it, real slick

“Barbatos, isn’t this the same dish you gave Beel when we came here last month?”

“I’m afraid I have no recollection of what you’re talking about.”

“You know, the dessert you gave him after he asked you for the biggest banana spli—”

“Oh my, would you look at the time. Let’s get you home, now, before it gets too late”   

Used to walk in front of you when walking you around the palace, but he now walks behind you so that he can watch you in case you trip

I mean, why wouldn’t he? You managed to break your collarbone while jumping down the stairs in Diavolo’s palace - you clearly can’t be trusted to look after your own health

(lowkey also never leaves you unsupervised around Mammon again, who in hell thinks it’s a good idea to try parkour of all things in the castle of the demon lord??? and encourages it?????)

Finds it incredibly endearing when your injury renders you unable to do basic tasks

Like if you were a helpless human in his mind before, now you’re less independent than an unpottytrained demonchild, and Barbatos is living for it, especially since you’re too stubborn to ask the brothers for help, so you turn to him instead

Absolutely loves when you text him for help

[17:39] MC: barbatos?

[17:40] Barbatos: Yes? Are you in need of something?

[17:40] MC: ...i was walking around the House of Lamentation and i accidentally banged into the wall outside Satan’s room and there was a really big sound and it turns out that i knocked a bunch of his books off the shelf and he comes home in half an hour and please help he’s going to kill me if he sees what happened

[17:40] Barbatos:

[17:41] Barbatos: I’ll be right there.

Diavolo

Oh boy

This man has lived a long, LONG time and never in all those millennia has he been as pissed as he is now, seeing you sheepishly lean on Mammon for support with the nearly all of your leg hanging limp

What he can’t grasp is the fact that this actually happened in school

Like, it would be one thing if a demon had injured you out of spite - he could simply punish them for all eternity and eradicate the root of the problem

But for you to be injured this severely? In spellcasting class, no less?

Instantly fires the teacher who was careless enough to let you walk into a casting circle which almost obliterated you whole - and spends ages commending Satan for having the wit to save you before things got even worse

But that doesn’t stop him from using the full extent of his princely power to ensure your continued safety

Instantly moves you out of the House of Lamentation and into his own palace, ignoring Lucifer’s repeated requests for you to not be moved

“I need to make sure they’re comfortable,” He hisses to his right-hand man, almost to Barbatos’s amusement. “The healing process for humans is long, and I need to make sure that they get better without the distractions your brothers provide”

Makes it painfully clear that if you ever get injured again under an RAD teacher’s watch, nothing will be able to save them from the unforgiving flames of his wrath

Starts spending as much time with you as humanly possible 

He always stops by your room in the afternoon, generally to check on your well being and to inquire on how you’re faring, but those conversations always seem to wrap up late at night, long after you’ve both abandoned the original topic at hand and are lost in discussion over something else

One time, when he was feeling particularly guilty after looking at the painful swelling on your leg, he invited you back to his own room to sleep on his bed because - as the acting king of the Devildom - his bed is literally the most comfortable place in the world and he hardly uses it

You sleep in it once and can never sleep anywhere else again

For more reasons than one

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

(Reluctantly) offers to let you move back into the House of Lamentation once you’re completely healed, but celebrates like crazy when you tell him that you’d much rather stay with him, and it becomes SUCH an ego stroke every time you remind him how much you adore it in his palace

Lowkey grateful that you got injured because it was the catalyst that allowed you both to grow close

But will absolutely make sure that nothing of the like ever happens again

[marblesphere]

Xiao x reader

!Angst Warning!

Slowly and gently, I can see how he tucks the loose lock of her hair to her ear. I can also see how she blushes at his gentle gesture. A small barely noticeable smile on his lips. I clench my fist tightly, I feel the Qingxin flower's stem crushed in my palm. I want to walk away from the irritating scene, but my feet are rooted on the ground. As if some force prevented me too.

It took all my willpower to tear my sight from them. "Xiao…" I whispered to the wind, hoping he would notice. But alas, the harsh reality proved otherwise.

10 years. It took me ten years to befriend the so-called vigilant yaksha. The only remaining yaksha. The yaksha which is said to be the coldest amongst all of the adepti in Liyue.

I met Xiao when I was 6 years old. I was lost in a forest near Liyue harbor. I remember Granny Ping said to call Adeptus Xiao if I ever had any trouble. So with a snotty nose, I wail out his name. A gust of gentle breeze blows before a tall big brother (at that time) in teal arrived. He frowns at me. I still remember my hand, which was full of snot and tears, grabbed his long sleeves and cried to it, effectively soiling the pristine cloth.

He almost flung me instinctively, but I know how hard I grabbed it and I am still a Liyue citizen. Xiao kneeled and with an awkward pat on my head, he lifted me up easily. Without a word, he jumps high. I can still vividly remember the breeze blowing my face. I stopped crying immediately and realized how high we were.

Tears were replaced with small giggles. From the position we were, I found my parents shouting my name. "Papa and mama." I leaned my body, wriggling out of his arms.

"Don't move." That was the first time I heard his voice. It's so beautiful that I shut up immediately. Xiao maneuvered and landed near to my worried parents.

"Mama, Papa!" I rushed to them right after Xiao put me down. My mother quickly hugs me tight, afraid if I were to disappear again.

"Where were you?! Do you know how worried we were?!" Papa scolded.

"But Papa, Adeptus Xiao took me home." I wriggled out from my mother's embrace and looked behind me, only to find empty space.

"Adeptus Xiao was with you?" Papa asked bewildered.

"Yep. Granny Ping told me to call for Adeptus Xiao if I had trouble. I did and he came. He jumped so high and I could see you." I excitedly told them my tale.

Not long after, I finally found out not many people can meet the elusive Adeptus. But I was determined to meet him again. To thank him and befriend him.

So, I ask the most knowledgeable person in this world, Granny Ping. Granny Ping told me that Qingxin is his flower. I want to pick one, but it only blooms in high peaks which is impossible for me. So, the next best thing is buying from a florist. Granny Ping also told me where to give the flower. Wangshu inn. Thus, I made it my mission to go there everyday to give him a Qingxin flower.

In Wangshu inn. As expected, I couldn't meet Xiao, instead I met the owner. Verr Goldet. After hearing my reasoning to visit the elusive Adeptus. She told me to put the flower on the balcony on the highest floor. I will stay there for hours without meeting him. And I do this everyday for almost a month.

Maybe Verr was taking pity on me. She told me to help her deliver a plate of Almond tofu to Xiao. And thus, our second meeting. I was so excited that I almost fell flat smashing the tofu to the floor if not for his fast reflex.

Xiao frowns when he sees me. "Adeptus Xiao, thank you." I smiled as I gave him the flower.

"Don't come close to me." He frowned.

"But, I want to." I shook my head. "Granny Ping told me you have protected us. I want to thank you." I pouted.

"...I am just doing my job according to the contract. I don't need any thanks." He said.

"Even so, I want to thank you." I said persistently.

I think that was the time he gave up explaining to a small naive kid. From that day on, I meet him everyday with a Qingxin flower and a plate of almond tofu. Of course, I still have to call him or else he won't show up even with almond tofu.

After a year, he softened up a bit. At least, I don't need to wait for him on the balcony. He will always be there by the time I reach the balcony with a flower and a plate of almond tofu. Another year and I can even manage to slip a Qingxin flower to his hair. And the second year of our meeting is truly the start of my happiness. Xiao gave me a small trinket made from sage technique to ward off evil. Every year following that on my birthday the small trinket will increase, a crystalfly, a leaf butterfly, you name it. And last year, he gave me an amulet. The amulet I have never taken it off since I wore it on my birthday.

In exchange I too, so persistently celebrate his birthday, since he won't tell me when is his birthday, I just mark the date we met is his birthday, not until a few years later he finally grumpily told me his real birthday.

I started learning martial arts and cooking courtesy from Xiao for the former and Smiley Yan for the latter.

10 years of hardwork, 9 years of nurturing feelings, all of them have gone to the drain. With just one appearance of this girl. No, she is not a traveller with a fairy. She is just someone from Qingce village. Xiao met her when he was patrolling around the area. Just in a month she undone all my hardwork. Now they are a step away from being lovers.

I made my way back home. For the first time in 10 years, I didn't go to Wangshu inn, no I didn't go to meet him. A fresh Qingxin I have picked and a plate of almond tofu are laid forgotten on the table. Fresh tears finally flowed down from my eyes. It hurts. It hurts so much looking at them. It hurts so much seeing him smile at them. The smile that I thought only I could see.

'It's not yours anymore.' A sickly sweet voice whispered

'He is finally happy. He finally rid himself of you. You are just a worthless girl. You don't deserve him.'

'The love of his life is not you. It will never be you.' The sickly sweet voice cackled gleefully.

That night I succumbed to the negative emotion of mine.

The next day, I resolved to investigate that girl. I have realized I am not good enough for him. That's why I want to make sure she is good enough for him.

'You just want to make yourself better if you find a flaw in her. What a liar.' The voice back in my mind echoed.

I shake myself, trying to get rid of those voices. First, I will obviously start from Liyue. I heard her parents are doing business in Liyue and she sometimes tags along. And today, she didn't come. Perfect. I have double checked in her parents' shop.

But every answer I get from them lowers my spirit. In the end, I can only summarize her in one word. Perfect. She is so perfect. All of the people I ask from will sing a praise to her. It's almost impossible for a perfect human like her to exist. But she is, and now she could even open the vigilant yaksha's heart in the span of a month.

To clear my head and the annoying voices in my head, I make my way to the secret place I have found a few years back. Inside the forest where I first met Xiao, there is a small patch of Qingxin flower field deep inside the forest. Qingxin flower, which is said to only bloom in the highest peak, somehow can grow in that patch and only that patch. The area around it is also safe from hillicurls or slime. Xiao said he never detected any malicious intent around the small field. Thus, that area became our secret spot.

Either Celestia likes to mess with me or I am just that unlucky, I met the perfect girl. She is surrounded by hillicurls. I frowned, I materialized my weapon and took a step.

'Why don't you just leave her alone. She is powerless. If the Hillicurls get her killed, then no one will be with your precious Xiao again. You can have him all by yourself.' The sickly sweet voice is tempting me with that.

I stop dead in my tracks. Indeed, If she is dead, then Xiao will have no one but me. It will be just the two of us again. I take a step back and turn myself.

'Good. This is what you should do.' The voice cooed.

"Kyaaa!!"

I grit my teeth and spring back to act. I rush to the group of hillicurls, which fortunately just 3 of them. I swipe their feet using my polearm. "Run!" I barked at her. She flinches at my harsh glare and voice, but finally starts running.

I quickly engaged with 3 hillicurls. I am not a pro, but Xiao taught me enough to defend myself. I panted after I finished the last hillicurls. I am just glad I didn't get any deep injury. "Kikiki!" A small fireball flew past me.

I cursed my luck. A pyro abyss mage is waving his staff and 3 small monster heads are firing flamethrowers at me. I barely dodge it. "Kikiki!" Then another cyro abyss mage comes out.

I gulp. This place might be my grave after all.

*3rd POV*

Yue Mei is just picking herbs by herself. She giggles at the thought of the famous vigilant yaksha literally swept by her feet in their first meeting. She fell in love at the first sight. She glanced at a charm on her neck. She is really grateful for this charm. She made a wish a year ago in an adepti abode. And that adeptus gave her this charm. She is told to wear this everyday, everywhere she goes. This charm will help her.

True to his word, after she had worn this charm. Everyone has become nicer. They gave her a lot of free stuff and some even started to court her. She was shy at first, the attention she got was really overwhelming. But, she already has an ideal man. A man who is strong and handsome. And her ideal man turned out to be Adeptus Xiao.

She blushes again remembering him. Their last meeting ends up with Adeptus Xiao tucked her hair back to her ear. This intimate gesture is really making her happy. Soon, she will confess to him soon. And they will become a couple.

But, her daydream is short lived. A group of hillicurls suddenly appear and surround her. Fear gripped her entire being. "A...ade...adept…" She is too afraid to even call the yaksha. One of the hillucurls raises its club high. "Don….'t… Kyaaaa!!!!" She let out a blood curdling scream as she closed her eyes.

But the pain didn't come. When she opened her eyes she saw the hillicurls on the ground and a girl wielding a polearm glared at her with such hostility. "Run!" She barked at her. Yue Mei flinches at her harsh tone. But her feet finally gained their freedom as she ran away to the direction of Wangshu inn.

Her feet are tired and trembling. She collapses on her knees. "Adeptus Xiao." She whimpered. A familiar breeze whirled, and Xiao came. Looking at the trembling form, Xiao frowns, "What happened?" He kneeled in front of her.

"Hi...Hillicurls…" She managed to stutter.

He hisses, knowing those monsters targeted someone under his protection. "Where are they?"

"There…" She pointed to a direction. "A girl...wielding...polearm...is...holding them...off…" She said shakily. The entire time she clutched her charm.

"A girl… wielding polearm…" His eyes widened. A girl wielding a polearm. The only one that comes to his mind is "[Your Name]..." He whispered. Somehow his mind becomes clear, as if the fog in his mind has been blown away. Xiao quickly summons his own spear.

"Don't!!!" Yue Mei quickly grabbed his hand. "Don't...leave...me alone." Tears streamed down her eyes, making her look so pitiful. This usually invokes some kind of protective instinct from the opposite gender. But, unfortunately for her. She is dealing with this the one and only Conqueror of Demons. Now the spell has been broken, he is not as nice as previous him except to a certain mortal.

"Release me!" He growled as he glared at her, more specifically at her charm.

She flinches at his harsh tone and glare. She stares at him wide eyed. He never used this kind of tone with her, not even on their first meeting. Her hands loosen up. And Xiao quickly disappears from her, leaving her all alone.

Xiao rushes to the direction that the girl pointed to. His mind is racing with what ifs. He finally arrived, but [Your Name] is not on sight. There are only 3 dead bodies of Hillicurls. He calms down a bit. She can handle herself just fine if it's only 3 Hillicurls. But, when he observed more carefully once again, his blood ran cold. Not far from him, a puddle of red blood is spotted, along with two dead abyss mages.

His heart thumped loudly, looking at the trail of blood moving to a certain direction. To the direction he is so familiar. His mind starts racing with a really unpleasant outcome.

"~~~♪ ~~~ ♪" The wind brought a familiar tune.

"...Xiao...where are you…?" He heard it. Her voice. But her voice is so weak, like she will disappear forever. Xiao has never rushed this fast. Right now in his mind, there's only she has to be alright.

*1st Pov*

"Hah...haah…" I panted as I stabbed my polearm to the ground, using it to stabilize my body. The puddle of blood on the ground beneath me is proof it's too late for me. 'If I were to die… At least let me choose the place.' With that in mind, I dragged my feet to our secret spot no, my grave. The small patch of Qingxin flowers.

I drop my body in the middle of the patch, hissing from the pain. But the smell of Qingxin is calming me down. It feels like Xiao is with me.

"~~~♪ ~~~ ♪" with my shaky voice, I started humming a tune. This song is passed down from generation to generation in our house. Apparently this song is some kind of a prayer back in the ancient times. My eyes are blurry now being soaked by blood. "...Xiao...where are you…?" I couldn't see anymore. I reach out my hand, hoping he will grab it. Then a miracle happened. I can see Xiao grabs my hand and pulls me up. I can feel the pain has started to dull and then disappeared, I feel so light, so free. I can see him clearly. Hand in hand the two of us wander to wherever we desire.

"Thank you for coming." I smiled.

[mochiimiiki]

| Act one: Possibility |

[Xiao x F!reader]

[Pyro vision reader]

Summary: Feelings are something of a concept, humans determine their meaning and everyone else simply accepts. But what if he has no concept of emotions and you’re in denial? What becomes of it then?

Warnings: spoilers for xiao’s story, angst, violence, blood, slow burn

A/N: first time writing a proper fic sooo be nice! also italics are being used for past events!!

Masterlist

- - - - - -

Your encounter was an accident. A mistake, a flaw in the matrix. However, It was a memory you held onto even after all of those years. Staring across Dihua Marsh, your mind couldn’t help but wonder, wonder all the way back to the vigilant yaksha. Whom refused to converse his name. His real name.

It was in the depths of night where the demons lurked, and as an adventurer you often encountered such mutated creatures. It was not your duty to defend the land nor protect the innocent from the midnight stalkers. Yet, you felt obligated to. Perhaps it was a form of misconception or the chivalry in which your father had brought you up with. Nevertheless, you found yourself stalking a possessed abyss mage. In hopes of vanquishing it before the mutant could perform damage upon any civillians.

The moon guided you, luring you to where the beast crept. Through squinted eyes, you could just about see a sleeping village a few hundred metres from where you stood. Determination pumped through your veins, urging you onwards with a singular goal; vanquish your opponent.

In the brief moments that you were distracted the target had vanished. Frantically, you begun searching. ‘Where’d it go...?’ You breathed to yourself. Fear creeping along your spine and infecting your mind.

Suddenly, a cryo shot sent you flying back into a rock. Your back hit it with a thud and the wind was knocked from you. Dazed it took you a moment to adjust your senses. As your vision became focused you quickly rolled out of the way as another cryo shot narrowly missed you. Reaching for your bow you aimed at the abyss mage.

You scoffed. A cryo abyss mage? The fight would be over in no time. Your bow charged quickly and you launched your attack. You jumped with glee, You’d hit the shield directly in a patch you’d grown accustomed to know as a weak spot. However, as the steam cleared from the melt combination you realised you’d done little to no damage. The unsettling anxiety seeped it’s way into your heart once more. “I-Impossible!” You declared, to no one in particular. “I hit you!” The abyss mage let out a low chuckle. It’s sonar voice vibrating off of the trees and rocks that littered your midnight hunt. However, you realised something was off with this mage. Not only was it’s voice an octave lower but a strange black mist eminated from its being. Was it possible this was the kind of creature your father had warned you about...?

Before you got a chance to react the abyss mage launched you backwards once more. This time you landed in the soggy pits of the marsh. You blindly fumbled with your bow attempting to ignite it with your pyro element. However, the dampness of both yourself and the weapon caused evaporate. You silently cursed. No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening not now, not when you were so close. Repeatedly you tried again. Only looking up as you heard the familiar chuckle of your enemy.

Squeezing your eyes shut you begged Rex Lapis to not let your life end so soon. You had so much to learn! So many places to be and you still had to find the truth of...

You thoughts came to an abrupt end.

Suddenly, a gush of wind sped past your face, in turn your eyes shot open. It was just in time too, as you witnessed your saviour.

In the moonlight his hair appeared dark grey and his clothings multiple shades of silver however, black and turquoise mist eminated off of his being. Your eyes widened in shock as one blast of his power shattered the cryo abyss mage’s shield. “EVIL CONQUERING!” He cried throwing it back into the same rock it had once thrown you into.

Pulling enough energy from your damaged body you limped over to your saviour. “You saved me!” Exclaiming in delight. “How did you... no I should be thanking you! Thank-” Yet, before you could continue your praise a final blast of cryo hit you from the dying mage. Falling to the ground you felt your senses dim. Blurry vision caught sight of your masked hero finishing off the job only to finally pass out. A deep, charcoal black enveloping you in an everlasting grip.

- - -

Upon awakening you had found yourself placed in a bed in a familiar building. One you had only viewed on the outside: Wangshu Inn. Clambering out of the comfort of the bed you stumbled to the doorway.

A violet sky was clear from the room in which you occupied. Dim stars twinkled as a rouge sun dawned. You stumbled over to the balcony, confusion clouding your thoughts and erroding the pain.

You collapsed onto the railing of the balcony, thanking the red painted wood for the sturdiness it granted. You glanced out across Dihua Marsh. It’s landscape accentuated by the red light from the dawning sun, her face glowing brightly and guiding adventurers and monsters alike into the unknown.

“What are you doing?” A low voice growled behind you. Instantly you jumped from the disturbance to the peace, immediately after regretting it as a sharp pain jolted through your side. Glancing down your eyes settled upon a bandage wrapped around your waist. You realised the only material shielding you against the harshness of the cool autumn morn was the bandages that started at your chest and ending at your waist. Instantaneously a flush crept over your face and along your neck. “Y-You did this? Pervert!” You shouted, a finger pointing accusingly.

For a moment the boy appeared taken aback before scoffing. “First of all.” He growled taking a menacing step towards you. “I didn’t do that.” He glanced down, taking another step. “Second I saved your life, so even if I had you should have been grateful.” Another step. “And last of all, it was the Inn keeper who helped you. You can thank her later.” He was inches away from you, his brows furrowed in irritation and it was clear your comment had irked him.

You swallowed thickly and uncomfortably. You pushed against his chest, attempting to create distance between himself and you. However, he remained rooted in place. Whether, or not he intended to intimidate you or was simply setting straight facts you were unsure of.

Eventually, he acknowledged your efforts and with a grunt stepped backwards. You tried to steady your thoughts, and clear your mind. Up until now you’d been thinking irrationally and it had ended with you in a critical state.

You opened your mouth to speak once more when with a dismissal of his hand the man spoke first, “Unfortunately, there are other matters that require my assistance. If you’ll excuse me.” Though he seemingly asked for his departure you knew that it was more of a statement than a request. “W-wait!” you cried suddenly, grasping his wrist as he leaped onto the railing of the Wangshu inn.

The man stared puzzlingly at your hand, almost in a way that suggested he’d never been touched by a mortal before. “I didn’t ask your name.”

“I go by many names.” The figure retorted bluntly, an action that caused your hand to retract and your face to drop. With a sigh he spoke once more, his tone etched with a little less aggression. “However, you may call me vigilant Yaksha Xiao. Or for short Xiao. Should you ever need my help, or cannot face killing a monster call my name. I will aid you.”

With that he vanished before your eyes. Taking on the form of shadows and fleeing into the Abyss.

- - -

Staring across the Marsh now it appeared so different. Not only had it been two years since your return to Liyue but it was also daytime upon your arrival, a splintering summer sun sparkled brightly amongst the leaping clouds. It suddenly occurred to you amongst your reminiscing that you had never gazed upon the marsh in the daylight. To bestow it the title of breath taking was an understatement, to simply put it, it was exquisite. How the summer rays of light bounced across the murky waters of the marsh and that they illuminated the once gloomy surroundings. It was a sight to behold, it was beyond enchanting as it bewitched its onlookers and lured them to an untimely death.

“Ma’am?” A voice called for you, intruding your thoughts. She gave you a gentle smile, one you knew was plastered on to appease customers. “Your room is ready madam.” She spoke so softly that had you been immersed in a conversation with another you may not have heard her. You exchanged a polite nod as she led you up the stairs of the Wangshu Inn.

Despite your absence from Liyue for two years the Inn had not particularly changed. It was still lined in the same ruby red railings albeit faded to a salmon blush. And it had the same wooden floors, that creaked and squeaked ever so slightly under foot.

“Here is your room, I hope you enjoy your stay.” Quietly excused the girl as she departed. Leaving you standing alone in the doorway to a room too large to fit a single person.

Hauling in your luggage you flopped down onto the bed. The scent of Fresh linen tickled your nostrils, a particularly summery smell.

As the night progressed you had departed from your room and explored a little more of the grounds belonging to the Wangshu Inn. Fully satisfied with your miniature expedition you retired to the cafe and settled in for a long night.

- - -

The evening wore on tranquility reflected in the expressionless faces of the Inn stayers and keepers alike. As the café grew quieter you had taken it upon yourself to mark out your journey on your map. Small red exes marked the spots of your previous journeys, and although you wanted to pursue the land of the unmarked you had unfinished business to complete in Liyue harbour. Tapping your pencil on the page as you pondered your next move a shout caught your attention. Your quiet night had come to an abrupt end when a face you believed you’d never set your eyes on again appeared before you.

It was the dead of night. The only two souls that remained in the lobby of the Inn were you and the owner’s wife. When suddenly, a third party joined.

In stumbled an extremely battered and bruised man. His hair was knotted in scruffs and a deep gash seeped into the skin in his chest. With a startled cry the woman behind the reception desk ran to his side.

You stared in horror into the cat like eyes of this man. A flash of a familiarity flickered in them, in a brief possibility that he recognised you a bubbling emotion of hope fluttered in your stomach. However, the feeling was all but short lived as his eyes fluttered closed and he collapsed, toppling to the floor. Completely unconscious.

[behindheremeraldeyes]

damirae week 2021 tuesday, May 4th - enemies to lovers & dark fantasy/ fairytale

title: bewitched

summary: “There’s a sly and satisfied smirk playing on her lips, and for a moment, he knows she has bewitched him, body and soul. This girl— this demon— is going to be his downfall. " Ao3 // ffnet

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It is a moonless night when the most powerful members of the League of Assassins are gathered in the catacombs of the sacred city of Eth Alth’eban. There are at least 20 men wearing dark-green hoods to cover their faces, each holding a lit candle in order to provide just the minimum luminosity for the ceremony that is about to take place. Their leader, Damian Al’Ghul, stands straight as he holds his powerful countenance, his emerald eyes never leaving the deteriorated book in his hands. A conjuring circle has been drawn with the ancient sand of the white desert, and at this moment, all the preparations have been concluded.

At last, the time has come. After spending years studying the dark arts and reading countless manuscripts on the matter, Damian is finally ready to take the next step towards a prosperous future. He is about to do what his predecessors never had the guts to, and with this action, a new era for the League is about to begin. He will make his grandfather proud by rewriting the history of their organization. He will be respected and his name, finally, immortalized.

“From hell, I, Damian Al’Ghul summon thou. Break the gates, unleash thy power and come forward. Step into this world now that the shadows cover this land. Be mine, demon, and my heart shall be yours for eternity.” He closes the book, handling it to one of the servants standing next to him. His hand reaches for the dagger in his belt, and in a fraction of a second, he tears the skin of his right hand. Red blood oozes from the sash and he lets it drip over the circle, tinging the white sand into a bright crimson. “Azarath Metrion Zinthos.”

The last words come as a whisper and a profound silence envelops the room. A couple of seconds pass, and though he can practically touch the thick anxiety of his subordinates around him, there’s no room for hesitation in his core. His pulse suddenly increases and it’s as if he can feel his heart constricting inside his ribcage. It’s not painful, not in the least. In fact, it gives him a feeling of fulfillment, and as he embraces this feeling, the ground beneath his feet starts to shake.

A dust of wind invades the catacombs, the lights of a few candles fading in consequence. Suddenly, an ominous fog swirls inside the circle, delicate at first, but quickly escalating into a dark vortex. Breathing gets harder, as if all the oxygen is quickly vanishing, and from the corner of his eyes, he can see some of the elder man falling on their knees, holding their throats and gasping for air. He doesn’t move, though. He can’t, for his feet are suddenly too heavy and something tells him he shouldn’t move a single muscle.

So he doesn’t. He stands his ground for what feels like an eternity, but eventually, the turmoil ceases and a dark sphere appears over the circle, floating steadily. His ears capture the sound of his men recovering, and some even take a step closer to him, as if to offer their prince some support. They have their blades ready, but Damian knows they won’t do anything unless he commands them to. There’s no need for violence. At least not yet.

After almost a full minute, the orb then dissolves and a small figure is now kneeled on the floor, the runes of the circle now shinning with a purple aura. His men are left in pure awe at the scene in front of them, but Damian doesn’t let those feelings take over him. His eyes are slowly studying the figure, and it doesn’t take long for him to realize the demon he has summoned has a human form— the form of a woman, apparently.

Her head is lowered, dark hair falling forward. She’s naked, her bare skin pale as the finest porcelain and slim curves outlining her figure. Her arms are wrapped across her chest in a protective way, and he is quick to notice the way she’s shivering. She’s cold, he thinks. It’s mid winter here, and perhaps, she must still be used to the warmer temperatures of hell.

“Bring me a source of fire. Now.” He orders, and his subordinates don’t question, quickly lighting a brazier. In a swift move, then, Damian unbuttons the cape that falls over his shoulders and wraps it around her. He’s crouched now, his feet invading the circle and his face just a few inches away from hers. When he reaches out for her now covered shoulder, she trembles under his touch. His eyes squint a bit, and slowly, he watches as she finally lifts her face.

Their eyes are connected now. His emeralds and her amethyst clashing and he can’t find it in himself to look away. She’s enticing, seductive, even. Her eyes are as deep as autumn’s starry skies, and her rosy lips are slowly parting as she studies his expression. There’s a red crystal on her forehead, and it’s as if flames are dancing inside of it.

Damian is mesmerized by her ethereal beauty. She’s probably the most beautiful creature he has ever seen, and for a moment, her pure looks make him forget that she is, in fact, a demon. A demon he has summoned to help him achieve his goals.

Once realization strikes him back, he blinks and breaks eye contact. He stands up, his imposing figure now towering over her body as he reaches out, offering his hand to help her stand. At first, her eyes are just staring at him, but eventually, she accepts his gesture and he can properly feel her icy touch clashing against his warm skin. Though her legs are still shaky, she manages to stand up, and as expected, she’s smaller than him. She lets go of his hand once she’s confident enough to stand alone, and though her eyes were only filled with confusion until this point, now, he can see a new flame behind her irises.

She’s examining her surroundings now, and he wonders if she’s either planning a way to escape or to kill all of them— for their sake, he hopes it’s not the latter. The demoness takes a deep breath, then, and her attention returns to him.

“So you’re the one who’s summoned me.” Her voice is low, almost velvety, and he senses an inch of growing confidence in it.

“Yes.” He confirms. “You will help me achieve my goals.” His eyes are determined as those words roll out of his tongue, and that determination evokes a smirk on her lips.

“Oh, is that so? How can you be so sure of that? Tell me what’s stopping me from killing you and all of your men?”

The lack of hesitation in her voice causes a turmoil in his men, and they were quick to unsheathe their blades. Rage fills their hearts, and their blood-thirst is almost palpable now.

“Just say the word, your majesty.” One of them says, and it’s clear that they only need the minimum approval from Damian to slit her throat.

“Is this your pathetic excuse for backup?” She huffs, not bothering to spare them a single glance. They’re growing more irritated, but she pays them no mind. ”I see why you needed a demon, then.”

“You devil creature! How dare yo— “

“Enough.” He says, firmly, with a reprimanding tone towards his men. If anything, he won’t let them fall for her tricky games so easily. He’s glaring at her now, yet she doesn’t seem intimidated by him in the least. “If you wanted us dead, you would’ve done it by now.”

“Very astute, your majesty.” She mocks, finally turning her amethyst orbs to his men. “At ease, gentlemen. No one needs to die here tonight. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to speak alone with you, Damian Al’Ghul.”

“Very well.” He turns to his men. “You can leave now.”

“What?! Master Damian, we shouldn’t have done this. We can just kill her and get back to the way we were before. We can—“

“Don’t you dare finish this sentence, sergeant.” He speaks, harshly. “I forbid you or anyone else in this facility to bring her any harm. Have I made myself clear?” There’s a screaming silence after his words, but eventually, his men bow their heads in acceptance. Hands are clenched into tight fists, and at last, her smirk fades from her face. For that, Damian is thankful.

In less than a second, all the men surrounding them leave the room. The light from the lit fire outlines their silhouettes as they now stand face to face. She’s still wrapped around his green and golden cape, and there’s a serious expression decorating her features now.

“So, Damian…” She starts, squinting her eyes in defiance. With her powers, the magic book he’s used to conjure the spells comes floating to her hands, and she’s quick to start flipping through its dusty pages. “You might be aware of this already, but you have used a pretty powerful grimoire to summon a demon like me. The mage who wrote this spells certainly knew what he was doing, for he’s found a way to turn the tables against us, evil creatures.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means we can’t just fool you, humans, into doing whatever we want like we’ve been doing for the past centuries.” She smirks. “At least not so easily anymore. With the spells in this book, giving you my real name or stuff like that makes absolutely no difference.”

“And what is it? Your name, I mean.”

Her eyes stare at him for a while, and though she takes a couple of seconds to try and read him, eventually, she gives in. “Raven. You can call me Raven.”

“Raven.” He tests her name in his own voice, and unconsciously, he finds himself enjoying the way it rolls out of his tongue. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure is all mine.” She replies, finally closing the book with a loud noise. “Well, you’ve summoned me from the depths of hell, Damian. You don’t need to tell me your reasons for it, but please, do tell me, what is it that you want me to do? How can I serve you?”

He nods at her, and even if Damian knows better than to simply trust a demon, he believes she’s being genuine. Though there are still a lot of things he has yet to learn about dark magic, he knows that the book he’s used gives him the higher ground against her. There are taming spells there that can subdue her to his wills, and if anything, she’s not allowed to kill him. They’re bound together for as long as he wants to, and giving her his heart in exchange for that felt quite acceptable.

They’re each holding the strings of each other’s lives, and with that, he believes they will find balance.

“I want what all the humans in my position want, Raven. I want enough power to protect my man and the things we stand for. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Nothing more, huh?” Her brows quirk, and she takes a few steps closer to him. Her eyes are on his, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t spot a certain curiosity in her demeanor. “Don’t you want to rule the world, Damian? Don’t you want to be feared by nations and create your own empire?”

“No.” He says, promptly. “A true leader should not be feared, but respected.”

“How very honorable for a human.” She teases, finally returning the book to him. “But this is none of my business. I’m in no position to defy your wishes. I’m bound to consent if that’s what you want.”

She turns away from him, then, and he watches as his cape dances around her slim legs. She stretches her arms and neck, and that’s when he reminds himself that, even if she’s a creature from hell, Raven still has her own wishes and desires. They’ve made a contract, and even if the odds are in his favor, there must be something in it for her, too. He refuses to believe that a human heart is enough to pay for what could be a life of servitude.

The leader of the Assassins takes a deep breath, then, as he decides to venture unexplored territory. His intentions are noble— at least he thinks they are— and he doesn’t hesitate before speaking. “And what is it that you want, Raven?”

“Me?” She asks, curiosity lacing her voice. She turns to face him once more, and he catches a glimpse of interest in her amethyst eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I’m asking you what is it that you want. What will you get from helping me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She asks, her tongue instinctively running across her lower lip. “I’ll be finally free, Damian.”

“Free?” He arcs his brows as he tries to understand her words. “Can you really be free while bounded to a human?”

“You humans have a very idealistic sense of freedom. We are bound together, that’s true, but that doesn’t mean you’re taking away my freedom. It’s quite the opposite, in fact.”

“How so?”

“You took me away from hell, Damian. And though it might not be the worst place for us, demons, it’s still pretty hard not to lose control when all of those suffering souls are screaming inside your head.” She smiles, weakly, but genuinely. “Now that I’m only connected to you, it’s easier to think straight. My mind isn’t crowded anymore, and that alone sets me free. If you are to put me in a cage for the rest of your life, so be it. At least I will some peace.”

His lips go agape after her words, and he feels his heart skipping a beat. Though he initially believed to know enough about demons due to his previous studies, Damian now knows that there’s a lot more about them he has yet to understand. They’re creatures with thoughts and emotions, and some of them might still carry some traces of humanity. Though malice and wickedness might prevail in their core, perhaps— just perhaps— some of them can come to comprehend feelings such as mercy and happiness.

Perhaps, together, they can eventually comprehend the meaning of love.

The heart inside his chest, though no longer his, beats faster as his eyes continue to stare at her. A sense of dignity and justice takes over him, and before he knows it, his hand is already placed over her shoulder. His touch is tender, and he watches as bewilderment spreads around her face. “You won’t be trapped in a cage, Raven. I want you to rule by my side, and we will stand together against whatever might come for us. I will give you anything you might desire. I will keep you safe.”

As his words sink in, a slow smile takes over her lips, and she uses her right hand to remove his from her shoulder. “A human protecting a demon… How amusing.” Her small fingers are now holding his, and he notices how foreign her touch feels. Still, she’s gentle. “Not trapping a demon in a cage, huh… You might regret this decision later, Damian.”

“I won’t.” He nods, his grip on her fingers tightening. “You will be free by my side. I give you my word.”

His promises come out almost as a whisper, and he watches as her expression, though still very strict, shows signs of excitement. Her amethyst eyes seem to shine brighter now, and her thin lips are slowly turning upwards. Right now, Damian is captivated by her genuine beauty and he can’t control the sudden desire to have her that has grown inside of him. Perhaps it’s part of the original contract or even a curse she’s putting on him. Whatever it is, he can’t find it in himself to fight against this urge.

Raven blinks one more time, and slowly, her hand slides from his and she’s now cupping his cheek. Her thumb slides across his olive skin, and he can’t help but allow the weight of his head to rest over her palm. Their eyes are connected and he can feel a soft breeze coming from her slightly parted lips. She’s incredibly close now. So close that if he leans in, his lips might brush hers. The thought of kissing her crosses his mind, and though it might seem too misplaced, it’s not completely absurd.

She’s the owner of his heart, after all. Though the meaning of it might not be the same for her, he is still human. He is still a man.

“Raven, I—“

“Shh…” She silences him, her eyes now only half opened. “Don’t say anything you might regret later.”

“I— “

Before he can even finish his words, Raven is the one who closes the gap between them. Her lips are pressed firmly against his in a soft and chaste kiss, and his body is quick to respond to her action. His arm slowly snakes around her small body, bringing her closer so they can deepen the kiss. Damian can feel the curves of her bare breasts against his chest and he can feel his body warming up at her touch.

Their tongues brush softly against one another, and once he adds a little roughness to the kiss, he’s able to elicit a soft moan from the depths of her throat. She responds to him promptly, their lips moving in perfect synchrony. Though it might not be natural for two extremely different creatures to engage in such actions, the desire running through his veins seems to be controlling his movements, and he doesn’t think he has the strength to break free.

His mind is revolving around her right now, and though it might feel a little clouded, Damian doesn’t think he has ever felt more powerful or sane in his entire life. He can barely feel his own heart beating anymore, but the power that now courses through his body is making him feel incredibly alive.

What is she doing to him? He doesn’t know, not really. However, he doesn’t really care about it right now.

He’s entranced by her, and there’s no turning back anymore. At least not until his heart stops beating.

His need for air forces him to retreat momentarily, their foreheads resting against one another. His lungs are desperate for fresh air, and judging by the way her ribcage is moving fast, he assumes she’s just as needy.

“What have you done to me?” He asks, still breathless. The turmoil inside his body seems to be fading, and at last, he can think straight again.

“Nothing your heart didn’t wish for, Damian.” Raven answers, sliding her hand across his chest, until it’s placed over his heart. She can feel it beating against her palm, and he notices how focused she seems. There’s a sly and satisfied smirk playing on her lips, and for a moment, he knows she has bewitched him, body and soul. This girl— this demon— is going to be his downfall.

And the worst part is that he’s looking forward to it.

fin.

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a/n: day 2 and here we are! Ngl, I had this idea while watching a weird show and I’m pretty happy with the result. Both Raven and Damian are such amazing characters to play with, and I think it’s our duty as shippers to explore them and their love. Well, what did you think? Hope you’ve enjoyed it! Thank you for reading it, and see ya!

[pricemarshfield]

moments like these

A Figayda angst/hurt/comfort fic. Requested by @sapphic-tuesday even though they only requested it because I love Figayda. (ily bestie) Read on AO3 here.

Prompt: Figayda, angst, hurt/comfort, “You don’t need to stay.” “I don’t need to. But I want to.”

The forest is dark and damp and the worst fucking place Fig has ever been, and she's running as fast as she can to get away from herself. She'd point out how it's way too on the nose if she had any breath left, but as it stands, it's all she can do to keep putting one foot in front of the other, slower and slower.

Eventually she has to just collapse into the nearest bush, hope somehow that's enough stealth even as the crack of the branches seems to echo out for miles and miles. There's a long, long beat, where she thinks, just for a second, that maybe she's done it. Maybe the other her isn't too perceptive, either.

She hears an oddly pitched laugh from right behind her ear, as though she isn't lying on the ground, and when did the branches tangle around her leg? Where'd her bass go? Why did none of her friends even seem to care that someone else took her place--

Fig wakes up with a start, sits up, hits her head against her ceiling which is, of course, the living room floor. Her horns scratch it a bit, but thankfully, her mom won't ever see it. Her crystal says it's 3 in the morning when she checks it, and fuck, she's gonna be stuck in here for awhile if she can't pass back out.

She could send a quick text to the Mordred group chat (the manorlings, despite Ragh vying for 'OWLBEAR HYPE HOUSE') and ask if anyone's up to let her out, but then there'll be questions about why she's up, so she just concentrates on mage hand until she nails the chord and the ceiling opens.

The house feels too empty with everyone asleep, too stifling when she can't make any noise, but there's not exactly anywhere else she can go. Her days of sneaking out in the middle of the night to go to concerts aren't nearly as fun now that she misses her friends the whole time. Also, now people recognize her for being one of Solace's biggest stars or whatever, and that's just kind of a hassle when she's not in the mood for attention.

The living room couch is an old, cracked leather thing, moved from Jawbone's apartment. It's not comfortable in any traditional sense, but there's a groove in it that fits her perfectly, and that's nice, in its own way. Sometimes she misses the couch in the old house. It got burned to hell in the attack on prom night, though, so. The whole house did, honestly; when she went home after everything, the window in her bedroom was shattered, glass all over her bed so that she had to pick up each piece, vacuum up what small pieces she couldn't see. She still woke up with a couple cuts on her legs that she didn't have before, but it was home, even if the posters and the pink wallpaper were both singed, even if the purple comforter she'd had since she was a kid didn't smell like it used to.

The old Faeth house never really felt like home after her horns, sure, but Mordred...

She does like it here. Loves it, when everyone's crowded around the table, Adaine arguing with Kristen about some minute difference in casting, Jawbone telling a wildly off-color story to a confused-but-interested Aelwyn, Sandra Lynn making sure Ayda has enough food on her plate while she blinks back fiery tears.

But it doesn't change the fact that she lived here for all of a day before spring break, and right now the hallways and secret passages and tall ceilings all feel ominous, not exciting anymore.

She turns on the light before her mage hand dissipates, scrolls through the games she has on her crystal. Most of them are things she's had on here back when she liked unicorns and glitter and all those girly things that she never got around to deleting.

It's something to do, at least.

The bright colors are nostalgic in just the wrong way, and she makes it through two minutes of matching pop rocks and cake slices before she's scrolling through the games again, on-edge for no goddamn reason.

"Fig?"

Part of her relaxes against the couch before she's even finished processing the voice as Ayda. "Hey! I didn't think you were staying here tonight."

"I wasn't," Ayda says, looking at her with an expression she can't read at all. She's in a deep blue chemise, like she'd been sleeping before she walked through the enchanted door into Mordred. "I--may I sit?"

"Yeah, of course," Fig says, patting the spot next to her. "Always, babe."

Ayda cries a little as she sits, and Fig wipes the tears away. The first time she tried, when she was a normal tiefling and didn't wear the title of Archdevil, it stung a little, like stepping into a too-warm bath. Now, it feels just like the hint of warmth against her hand, uniquely Ayda and not at all painful. (Which is also uniquely Ayda, to never freak Fig out even when she's in this shitty mood.)

"So," Ayda says. "I was in Leviathan, as I needed to--well, still need to, I've merely decided the task isn't as important--I'm getting sidetracked."

"Yeah," Fig says, and when Ayda stiffens, says, "Not bad! Not a bad thing! It's cute."

"Oh," Ayda says. "I--sorry," and bursts into tears again. Fig wipes them away, kisses her cheek just 'cause she can, kisses the other one because she can feel Ayda's face get even warmer.

"No worries," Fig says, too late, because she's not--this is still new to her. "So what's going on?"

"As you know, I am a divination wizard, though not an Oracle like Adaine, our best friend." Fig nods. "But sometimes my dreams have--not prophecies, but looks into the present, or even occasionally the past."

"Okay," Fig says. "Is there, like, a slumbering demon lord underneath Mordred?"

"No," Ayda says. "I asked a ranger I know in Leviathan to check before he left on a journey to Sylvaire. Unrelated to the Nightmare King. I checked, just to be sure, because I am sure none of us want to deal with that again."

"Mmhm," Fig says, willing herself to keep breathing slow and easy and not tense up like she wants to. It's just Ayda talking about preventing further Nightmare King stuff. The Nightmare King doesn't even exist anymore, they're Cassandra, they're cool. "So, uh, what'd you see in your dream?"

"You," Ayda says. "That isn't uncommon. I dream of you often. You're in more of my dreams than not. Is that strange? Should I not have said that?"

"Not strange," Fig says, sure her cheeks are red rather than pink. "Just--I'm flustered, okay, give me a second."

Ayda nods at her, not smiling but face relaxed in a way that suggests the same feeling. Fig grabs her hand just to ground herself, squeezes it once. There's a moment before Ayda squeezes it back, like she's thinking about whether it's the right thing to do.

"Totally normal," Fig says, just in case.

"Good," Ayda says with one long exhale. "I was worried."

"You know, it doesn't matter to me if what you do is 'normal'," Fig says. "I like you whether what you do is normal or not!"

Ayda nods. "I want to finish my thought, but after that I want to kiss you. That was the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"You could kiss me and then finish the thought?"

"I would forget," Ayda says, like she doesn't remember everything, like Fig is enough to distract her. Fig can't quite meet her gaze, then, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. She squeezes her hand again. Ayda squeezes back immediately. "Um. I'm distracting myself. What was I talking about?"

"Your dream."

"Right. Thank you, Fig. I dreamed about you, and I think it may have been--it was as though I was standing at your bedside. I know it was a dream and not sleepwalking, because I can't actually stand in your room--it's too short and I don't want to set your house on fire. But you seemed upset, and while I don't know if that was real or a dream or not, I couldn't--I couldn't just sit in my room and Leviathan without checking."

"Oh," Fig says. "Um. I'm fine."

"Hm," Ayda says. "You know, you were the one who told me that if people say they're fine, it very rarely means they're fine. I don't understand the logic of it at all, but I trust your insight."

"It's stupid," Fig says, and then, in a twist, bursts into tears herself. "God. It's stupid, I don't even know why I'm upset? Like, it's literally nothing, nothing is going on, I'm just dumb--"

"You are not dumb," Ayda says, and Fig hates herself all the more for the panic she can hear in her voice. "You have taught me so much, and if it matters to you, then it's not stupid. Fig?"

"Yeah," Fig says, voice embarrassingly choked up. She clears her throat as best she can, which isn't very well, since she's still actively crying. "Yeah, I know."

"I don't know what you know," Ayda says. "But I know that when I cry, you wipe my tears away, and I'm going to do the same for you, unless you want to stop me, in which case I won't."

Fig doesn't move, lets Ayda wipe away her tears even though it makes her want to cry more, someone being nice to her right now. "Thanks."

"Any time," Ayda says with the weight of a promise and not at all like the platitude most people would mean. "Do you want to talk about it? It's okay if you don't. I often don't want to talk about the things I'm going through when I'm still going through them."

"I don't," Fig says, because the idea of explaining the nightmare and Mordred and her old house being destroyed and feeling so, so unmoored and stuck all at once makes her want to tear her own hair out. "I don't--you don't need to stay. I'll be okay. If I'm not--if I can't talk about it, you don't need to stay."

"I don't need to stay," Ayda says, carefully, and Fig grips her hand tighter without consciously meaning to. "But I'd like to. If I can."

"I meant it when I said always," Fig says, still not looking at Ayda because she can't.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yeah," Fig says. "I always want you to stay."

Jawbone walks into the room on his way into the kitchen, sees two teenagers holding hands and crying and slightly-burning his couch, and decides he can just get water from the bathroom instead of the kitchen. He's not one to interrupt a moment.

[st-just]

A Setting: The City of Sethennai

Because I’ve spent long enough tinkering on this that I might as well share it with a population of more than a half-dozen potential players. Also it could almost certainly use an editing pass, and I don’t want to lose it all next time my computer dies.

So, a collection of densely packed plot hooks in the shape of a city

City History

The City of Sethennai is quite possibly the oldest city in the world, or at least the oldest still inhabited. When the first Dwarfs and Goliaths fled the Titans for the coast, they found ziggurats already rising from the water and tunnels dug beneath their feet, ruined by some already ancient cataclysm. Supported by fertile soil and full waters, they built their own city over it, and welcomed their own gods to it, a center of resistance to the Titanomarchy that became an empire in its own right.

Centuries passed and power drifted inland, to the mountain palaces of the Titans’ Giant heirs and the divinely appointed heroes who sometimes overthrew them. The City was rich, but peaceful, its soldiers only raised when one princess or another took it as a capital during a civil war. Such was the case when the first ships appeared from the East.

The adventurers from the League of Free Cities had been spurred across the sea by visions of fortune and glory, overwhelming the defenders with armies of goblin slaves and the ability to evoke demons far beyond what they could deal with. Their leader Sethennai proclaimed himself Emperor and renamed the city in his honour, taking it as his capital. After his assassination some years later the ‘empire’ fell into an anarchy it has never quite recovered from, but the name has stuck, and for the two hundred years since wonders and riches have flowed across the eastern ocean while mercenaries and adventurers have poured west in ever greater numbers.

The city’s ruler for the last fifteen years has been Prince Cael, an adventurer universally believed to be supported by the League’s political rivals back East. If so, they got what they paid for – experts and financiers have been imported and sponsored, and trade opened to anyone capable of paying the reasonable import duties.

Until two years ago, he had been the picture of brutal decadence, rousing himself from luxurious hedonism only to brutally deal with any threats to his power. Recently though, he changed – sponsoring vast expeditions into the ancient palaces of the interior and the ruins buried on the city’s outskirts, and installing a self-proclaimed Hierophant whose heresies had earned her a death warrant back East in the city’s grandest temples (violently banishing the cults which had held them since the Conquest in the process).

One week ago, at exactly noon, the sun vanished from the sky for one minute, and the entire city was filled with a deafening scream. Since then, the Prince’s grand palace has been sealed tight, with ingeniously horrifying magical defences ensuring that anyone who tries to force a door or window isn’t around to try again. Everything’s very rapidly falling apart, and the city’s traditional power brokers are reacting like so many rabid weasels in too small a cage.

It is, then, a perfect opportunity for people with the will to seize it.

Districts

The Palantine

If Sethennai is the oldest continually inhabited city in the world, the vast palace complex which crowns its central hill is probably likewise the oldest building still in use. Its foundation is burrowed deep into the hill on which it stands, to the point that some delvers and historians have theorized that it was once a truly massive pyramid now mostly buried by the ages. Rising out of it are two great peaks - impressive ziggurats in their own right - of obvious dwarven make, fashioned to house their ancient Ancestors-Kings and gods in suitable splendor, and since renovated and built over to house the city’s rulers and most favored priesthoods. Surrounding them are a dozen smaller peaks, each the estate of one of the city’s foremost patrician families, teeming with retainers and servants. The land around them is pristine and perfectly manicured, full of wondrous botanical gardens and menageries for the amusement of Sethennai’s greatest citizens.

Location of Interest: The Throne 

A palace built on the ruins of a palace built on the ruins of a palace. The grand ziggurat which the city’s rulers have called home since time immemorial is built into and sits at the peak of its highest hill, the highest point in the sky for dozens of miles in every direction. Its labyrinthine apartments, kitchens, vaults, galleries and corridors house the Prince and his family, dozens of favorites and notables, and hundreds of guards, servants, retainers and entertainers. 

Or, well, housed. 

One week ago, the sun vanished from the sky, and a scream echoed through the city. Since then, the palace complex has proven impenetrable. Every door and window is closed, and attempts to open them by force have fared...poorly. In a ‘never going to walk again’ sort of way. Scrying and other means of magical surveillance so far attempted have simply failed. No one has tried to escape, and no noises have been heard - the whole complex is simply silent. 

Of course, that means that all its secrets and riches are there for the taking. Or that’s the growing consensus - at least three separate groups have camped out near various gates and major entrances, each preparing their own scheme to break in and seize everything within. There’s no fighting between them. Yet. 

Faction of Note: The Hierophant 

    Yri Cenred is many things. A self-proclaimed ‘experimental theologian’. One of shockingly few mortal humans to piss off the Illyrin clergy enough to be specifically declared Anathema. A member of the Commonwealth’s very exclusive list of ‘Enemies of Reason’. Empirically immune to thunderbolts from cloudless skies and most other signs of divine disfavor. Easily one of the most powerful mages in the city. And, for most of the last two years, its High Priestess and Hierophant. 

    No one knows quite how her first meeting with Prince Cael went, and whether she was responsible for her change in personality or if he sought her out because of it. All anyone knows is that shortly after she arrived in the city a few days ahead of Imperial Witch-Hunters looking for her head on a pike, Cael forcibly expelled the Khasali cults which had occupied the Palantine’s grand temples since the Conquest, and installed her in their place with the newly minted title of Hierophant for the city. Since then she and her growing coterie of acolytes (bright-eyed, motivated and young, though you can flip a coin as to whether their hands are stained with ink or blood) have been extremely busy, though no one can say exactly what with. Certainly they haven’t held any public rituals or services. Despite the costs - both political and monetary - in protecting and sponsoring her, Cael never seemed to question whether it was worthwhile. 

    The general opinion on the streets is that she’s probably to blame for anything and everything worth complaining about. The only real divide is between those who think she bewitched the Prince and turned him into her puppet, those who think she’s the one who killed him, and the moderates who think the correct answer is probably ‘both’.

Foundrytown

The New World is absolutely full of exotic reagents, fuel sources, and materials to craft and invent with. It is also absolutely full of people who will pay in your currency of choice for finished goods, armor, weaponry, and whatever nasty alchemical tricks you can keep from blowing up in their face until they want them to. Foundrytown is the sprawling mass of smokestacks, workshops, factories and markets that has spilled to the north of Sethennai’s walls, exploiting both opportunities to the fullest while limiting the chance that some idiot will burn half the city down (again). Robber barons, militant workers, loose fraternities of tinkerers and half-trainer artificers, and the occasional rogue clockwork or alchemical monstrosity all jostle for space and control of the beating heart of Sethennai’s economy. 

Faction of Note: The Grand Bazaar 

    Official Imperial theology accords true dragons a place of honour - the Princes of the Earth, entrusted by Heaven with containing the fury of the elements within themselves so as to render the world peaceful enough for cultivation by the younger races - and forbids very few things to wyrms willing to play the part. (Principally, do not become undead, a god in your own right, or an archdemon of the elements. Though some justification can usually be found for how any sufficiently problematic dragon is actually doing one of those). 

    And Tyramara the Magnificent, the Fire of the Deeps has not technically done any of those things. Still, the ancient wyrm has little interest in allowing the wasting disease which has crippled her continue to spread, and her solution is unorthodox enough that she thought it prudent to abandon her palace-lair in Imir and relocate to the New World, six treasure galleons worth of her hoard in tow. 

    One of the city’s wealthiest residents from the moment she landed, she has bought a plaza in Foundrytown and offered her sponsorship to nearly every tinker and engineer who cares to set up shop there, provided they help sustain and improve the mechanical and hydraulic prosthetics that supplement and replace her dying organs. She has promised a full half of her hoard to any who can permanently deal with her condition, a fortune men have killed for in the past, and certainly will again. 

Faction of Note: The Hellworks 

They’re not officially called the Hellworks - there are, in fact, absolutely no devils involved. Still, between the billowing clouds of soot and steam pouring from their chimneys at all hours of the day, the severe architecture, and the bound spirits who keep the looms running at all hours of the day and eagerly take any opportunity to leave anyone who gets too close crippled or maimed to vent their anger - well, the name stuck. 

One of the most obvious consequences of Prince Cael’s turn towards the esoteric these last years, the ' ‘Royal Sethennai Weaver’s Trust” is the brainchild and absolute domain of the Lady Binder Katerine sol Dalme sol Telrin ir’Paimon. An Illyrin magister with heterodox opinions on the proper uses of magic, popular opinion is divided on whether it’s more accurate to say Cael invited her to reside in the city, or just offered her asylum before her elders had a chance to properly condemn her. 

Regardless, after six months of operation she - and her half-dozen strictly bound and extremely unhappy ifrit, and several hundred eminently replaceable more mundane workers - are already well on their way to supplying all the clothing and textiles Sethennai’s teeming masses require single-handedly, produced at a scale and speed far beyond what any traditional artisans guild could hope to compete with. 

Crossroads

Dominating the Old City - synonymous with it, really - that the district is called the ‘Crossroads’ is often considered something of a cruel joke by new arrivals. The ‘Labyrinth’ is usually offered instead. Ancient stone tenements and storehouses are basic facts of geography, surviving through conquest and fire, and over and around and through them are generations of newer building - mansions of imported oak and marble, shantytowns of cannibalized carts and derelict ships built on rooftops, and nondescript inns and stores conveniently built on top of trap doors and tunnels leading to much more exciting locales. Natives of a neighborhood who know all the secret passages and blind alleys can quickly get to anywhere they like. New arrivals are strongly advised to pay well for a reliable guide. 

Faction of Note: The Dreamers 

    There’s something under the harbor. There always has been. There probably always will be. Most people can go their whole lives without noticing it, but a certain few find living in the Old City a haunting experience, their nights spent dreaming of drowned palaces and impossible angles, their days spent lost in alleys and markets that have never existed. Inevitably, they come out of a daze and find themselves perched on the waters edge, staring into the filthy, polluted depths with an intense sense of longing. 

    Called the Dreamers, they’re an eclectic and informal fraternity, living in makeshift houseboats or the cheapest tenements that press against the water. Quite a few simply sleep on the streets. They’re something like a religion, and something like a guild - the most personable and talkative are merchants, selling the fish that others catch, the strange relics and minor treasures that their divers retrieve from the harbor, and the often beautiful - if always uncanny - art they produce. They take care of each other and, though no one has ever seen a dreamer raise a hand in anger, every attempt by syndicates or rival cults to extort or expel them has ended with their opponents going mad, screaming and clawing at their flesh in the middle of the night, or found poised in some elaborate and improbable suicide. After the third time, everyone more or less got the idea. 

    No one knows who leads them - if anyone does. Insofar as they have a public face, Zoe Alvane is it - a street urchin who ‘found the sea’ before she had hit puberty, for the last few years she has been the one who spends seemingly every hour of the day ensuring her ‘aunts’ and ‘uncles’ have food and shelter, and looking after the other beggars and poor in the neighborhood while she can as well. She’s also the one outsiders deal with when they come looking to buy information - it’s a disquieting fact of life in Sethennai that the Dreamers’ know almost everything there is to know about almost everyone. They are generally content to be left alone, and Zoe is very sympathetic and willing to offer personal advice and play the part of fortune teller to anyone desperate and willing to trade or do a favor - but it’s generally agreed that trying to force information from them is a bad idea. 

Faction of Note: Ironfang Mercenary Company 

    When Prince Cael seized the throne, he didn’t do so single handedly. He needed trained, disciplined soldiers to seize the Palantine and coastal forts, ensure no one escaped the palace, and keep order on the streets while the messy business of extinguishing the previous dynasty was carried out. For all this and more, he relied on the professional expertise of the Ironfang Company. 

    Formed around a core of hardened hobgoblin veterans of various border wars and colonial filibusters in the Free Cities, the Company has for the last fifteen years been the Prince’s favorite tool for securing his interests, keeping order, and bloodily making examples of any threats to his rule. For their trouble, they’ve grown fat and happy - a steady paycheck and yearly bonuses have left every officer with a townhouse, and most common soldiers with coin for families and apartments for them to live in. 

    Despite the lack of real combat - and the need to take on locals as new recruits, as more and more soldiers retire or die over the years - Captain Azaersi is a leathery old warehouse who has never let her troops grow soft. Even week the grand parade ground in Crossroads echoes with screaming drill sergeants and the crack of muskets, and it’s an open secret that the Prince paid to import stocks of grenades and munitions from Quepta for her arsenal. No one knows quite how she plans to deal with the sudden disappearance of her patron and employer, but for the moment the Ironfang seem content to keep order in the corner of Crossroads around the arsenal and parade ground that they call home. 

The Ruins

The ruins are not, legally, part of Sethanni, and absolutely no one with anything resembling sense would ever actually choose to live there. No one actually knows where the eponymous ruins come from - or at least, no one can agree which section is from where. Shantytowns of the most despised and desperate and built on top of their predecessors, which are built on top of battered and broken pre-Conquest ziggurats and homes, which are built on top of - well, some of it is just a natural cave system, and no one is sure about the rest. Or ever found just how deep it goes. Aside from the casualties of the Prince’s attempts to map it, the Ruins are inhabited exclusively by those that would be strung up or burned alive if they tried to live anywhere else, or those sufficiently dedicated to their greed or ambition that they’re absolutely certain they alone can unlock the secrets and find whatever wonders are buried beneath all the traps and monsters. Not great company, either way. 

Faction of Note: The Weavers’ Masquerade 

    Sethennai never really followed its ‘sister cities’ in the League in religion, with a sort of tolerant anarchy of different gods and sects almost always predominating over the gleefully blasphemously sublime demon-cults that the conquerors originally brought with them. But the small cultists that did exist at least enjoyed a luxurious, privileged irrelevance, with sanctums in the city’s grand temple. That finally changed when Cael seized the temples for his new Hierophant - and every relic and sacred text in them, as bloodily as necessary. Which with demon worshippers meant a massacre - letting one escape and beseech their patron for aid in crafting some horrible vengeance being generally agreed to be a terrible idea. 

    Not that that actually worked, of course. One acolyte managed to escape - no one’s quite sure how, but then, probably best not to ask unless you’ve got a particularly strong stomach. Well, that’s one of her stories, anyway - she goes by Maia Dayal, Beloved of the Architect, Wearer of Ten Thousand Faces, and sometimes she prefers to say she’s a recently arrived priestess from Celmy, or a street urchin who found enlightenment entirely on her own. As might be expected by the self-proclaimed title, she also changes her face (and build, age, species…) about as often as everyone else bathes. 

    While she has shown no interest in actually taking bloody revenge on the Prince, Dayal has done plenty to earn the price on her head. The Masquerade that has grown around her is a carnival of wonders and horrors, where all manner of temptations are offered to the truly desperate, debauched and vile. Skinweavers and facetakers always need raw material, and secrets and deaths can both be easily bought for the right price - though in keeping with their patron, the Masquerade is hardly a safe or stable place to do business, and offending the wrong cultist can easily lead to a shift from ‘visitor’ to ‘canvas for artistic expression’. 

Faction of Note: The Keendream Expedition

    Over the last two centuries, the actual facts about the pre-Conquest city has (with few exceptions) been buried under the weight of legends, rumors and (when necessary) several tons of rock. Despite this (or because of it) whenever things get bad (...worse) for the original population of goliaths and dwarves who can trace their lineage back to that time, stories about some hidden savior or buried relic that will free them spread like wildfire. This is just such a time. 

Ilidak Keendream Kathu-Viano is an explorer from a family with some grounds for its claim of being pre-conquest nobility. For the last year he has worked on commission for the Prince, leading a large and incredibly well-armed expedition into the ruins across the water from the Old City, digging into them in search of..something. No one who knows the goal has been willing to talk, but certainly it has involved hiring every historian and scholar with anything like knowledge of the city before it was Sethennai (not to mention half the charlatans and rumor mongers who might know something). 

Once news of the Prince’s disappearance reached Kathu-Viano, work shifted from its previous sedate pace to something much more determined. Certain paranoid minds have said it’s almost like he was waiting for this. Other, moderately less paranoid ones have pointed out it’s a bit odd that the government-sponsored expedition is so short on patricians and city notables and so high on mercenaries form the interior and goliath clans with far more reason to listen to Kathu-Viano than the Prince, should some conflict break out. 

The Stacks

Museums, exhibitions, satellite campuses, mystical archives, storehouses of eldritch knowledge, and one actual wizard tower - if the faint taste of ozone in the air doesn’t warn you what you’re getting in for leaving the city’s eastern gates, then the architecture certainly will. Wedged between variously reputable bookstores and inquisitives, different formalized and longstanding campuses are dedicated to the arts of conjuration, enchantment, sparkcraft, and practical cosmology. Competition for new discoveries and to fully unlock ancient secrets are good natured and nonviolent - at least, that’s all you can get out of anyone left standing once the smoke clears. 

Faction of Note: The Bookhounds 

    The Bookhounds aren’t any sort of formal organization - and at least half of them would roll their eyes at the name - but rather a loose network of gutter mages, disreputable academics, private inquisitives and researchers for hire, and people with a little talent or cash to burn and far too much curiosity for their own good. They act as a sort of volunteer police force in the Stacks, passing each other clues and leads and doing each other favors to track down stolen (or escaped) relics and curses, stop idiots from unleashing anything really dramatic, and generally help people and save the day. Not to mention accumulate really impressive bags of tricks and rare books themselves in the process. 

    While they don’t have anything like a real leader, the group’s beating heart is Nikos Roth, an Esheri academic who arrived in the city as a fresh-faced student on a three month expedition a decade back and who never intends to leave. Running a small, incredibly ramshackle-looking secondhand book store wedged between two tenements, he nonetheless has one of the more impressive collections of occult lore in the city, and is more than happy to trade for more of it, or connect anyone in need with a specialist who can help them. As more than one would-be thief has discovered, he’s also a fairly talented mage, and for all that being entirely self-taught has left him with some obvious holes in his training, it’s also left him with some tricks that basically no one comes prepared to counter. 

Redgate

Once, Redgate Prison stood alone, a fearsome warning of the Prince’s power to anyone looking south from the city center. Eighty-some years of steady urban sprawl later, most of its inmates would probably just need a running start from the prison walls to land back home. Filled mostly with those whose dreams of a new world fell flat, but with too little cash or too many enemies to get home, the slums of Redgate are a natural habitat for street gangs, drug peddlers, flesh traders, and everyone else looking to take advantage of the desperate and vulnerable. The prison itself - and its infamous and heavily armed wardens - has stumbled into being the center of law writ large, dealing out summary justice for criminals that are (correctly) assumed to be beneath the Prince’s notice. 

Faction of Note: Regate Prison 

    Sitting on a steep hill across the water from the Old City, Redgate prison was at one point a fortress, but for generations has been put to use housing the city’s worst, most dangerous, and most profitable criminals. Given the sprawling, crime-ridden slums that now surround it, its wardens also work as a sort of brutal police force, keeping the pretence of order on the street and preserving the Prince’s Peace. Usually. 

    The problems with discipline start at the top, really. The Prison’s infamously brutal First Warden is also its oldest and most dangerous prisoner. Before the Conquest, Vrocdruk was one of the city’s lesser gods, enthroned in one of the Palantine’s grand temples. When Sethennai - the man - defeated him, he chose to pull his demons away before they could tear the god into so much bloody aether. Instead he was crippled, lessened, and bound to a new home in the fortress and a new purpose; defending the city and its rulers. Later, less skillful, princes altered the binding, making him responsible for most crime and punishment and hoping that his sacred nature would make the native dwarves and goliaths more obedient. 

    Vrocdruk is still crippled, still bound to the prison, still forced to obey the orders of the city’s acclaimed ruler, and still extremely unhappy about it. He takes any excuse to work out his unhappiness on criminals or troublemakers with the incredible bad luck to catch his direct attention. His wardens largely follow his example, often acting less like agents of justice and more like a particularly well armed gang - to the point of semi-officially collecting fees for ‘security’ from nearby businesses, supplementing the cash extorted from prisoners and their families for both necessities and luxuries while incarcerated.

Sootcliff

Trailing south of Foundrytown, on and under the steep slope beneath the city’s western walls, the densely packed tenements of Sootcliff are certainly stained grey enough to earn the name. Existing primarily as a source of blood and sweat to feed into the ever-hungry foundries and assembly lines to the north, The buildings are cheap, massive, and constructed at the lowest possible cost, with all the consequences you would expect from that. With easy access to weapons and alchemical supplies from Foundrytown and (literally) beneath the notice of the Old City, Sootcliff is famous as the home of militant bands, revolutionary conspiracies, disgraced artificers, and generally anyone who has a dream for a new world and a plan that will require a lot of explosions to get there. 

Faction of Note: The Painted Doctors

    Less a single organization and more an extraordinarily loose confederation of - often feuding - crimelords, the Painted Doctors are a fraternity of (largely half- or self-) taught alchemists who have over the last year grown to be the dominant criminal guild in Sootcliff. The name sometimes refers to the incredibly distinctive tattoos each ‘Doctor’ has covering much of their body, universally agreed to be somehow enchanted or cursed. Otherwise it refers to the incredibly alien and vibrant skin tones that their test subjects and muscle develop after repeatedly ingesting their ‘miraculous’ potions and tonics. 

    While possessing remarkably little actual magical talent among them, the Doctors have perfected the recipes for several extremely useful potions - several incredibly addictive drugs, a half dozen forms of acids and grenades, and a dizzying variety of enhancing tonics to improve themselves and distribute to their thugs - and have managed to keep both the recipes and their sources for the necessary reagents entirely secret. This has left them in the enviable position of being able to promise anyone signing on with them that they’ll be able to more or less become a regenerating ogre for an hour whenever they need to fight, while their opposition has had to settle with advising their men to stock up on fire and acid. 

    The leading light of the Doctors is one ‘Dr’ Fadre - almost certainly not his real name - an alchemical savant whose ‘miracle cures’ are bought and resold across the city. A flashy and well dressed sort whose patronage has turned several of Sootcliff’s most prominent dens of vice into something close to palaces for those who can afford it, he’s said to be far less interested in the nuts and bolts of running a criminal empire than enjoying its fruits and indulging his passion for the Sciences. It doesn’t hurt his reputation that he doesn’t look a day over thirty, and has for as long as anyone has known him. 

Chance

Facing Oldport from across the river’s mouth, the docks of Chance are significantly new, cheaper, and altogether more ramshackle. Not really a part of any conscious design, Chance grew organically as the city sprawled beyond its original walls, essentially smuggling docks so successful it was easier to legitimize and start taxing them than it was to hang everyone involved. They now provide the city with a constant infusion of nerdowells and fortune seekers, and the district around them takes great pride in fleecing new arrivals of every penny to their name by the end of their first night on land. Hostels and boarding houses are usually safe, traditional vice dealers less so, and anyone selling treasure maps or magical amulets not at all. Still, they’re probably more harmless than the various mercenary recruiters and ‘exiled princes’ promising to give new arrivals exactly the thrill and fortune they came searching for. 

Faction of Note: The Red Ocean Trading Company

    What is now the Red Ocean Trading Company has gone through several dramatic changes over it’s eighty years of existence. First a privateer fleet hired by the Free City of Celmy during the First Armada War. Then eventually growing strong enough to seize several islands as an independent pirate state, before being crushed by the Esheri Navy during the Second Armada War. It’s remnants learned a bit of humility from that, and it is now seemingly content with its existence as either (depending on who you ask) a obscenely profitable shipping firm, or one of the most widespread criminal syndicates in the world. 

The Company’s significant interests in Sethennai - nearly half the docks in Chance, guides and guards for anyone heading into the Interior, and fingers in quite a few less legitimate pies as well - are ably represented by Captain Arun Prem, a(n in)famous adventurer and scoundrel in his own right, apparently enjoying his semi-retirement behind a desk by getting outrageously drunk with his favorite mercenaries and criminals every night and swapping incredible (and implausible) old war stories. 

There’s plenty of rumors, of course - that he’s here in de facto exile after angering the Company’s mysterious senior leadership. That he’s a thousand-year-old vampire and is the Company’s mysterious senior leadership. That he ate a kraken’s heart, and is immortal as long as he doesn’t lose sight of the water. That he’s biding his time to prepare an army before heading inland to carve a new kingdom for himself. That he’s only in the city for as long as it takes to carry out some truly spectacular heist. That he killed Prince Cael in a secret duel and trapped his soul in the pocketwatch he wears at all times. And so on. Of course, other rumours say that he started all of those himself to preserve his mystique as he grows fat in his old age.

Oldport

Facing out to the harbour but safely ensconced within the city walls, Oldpot is, as the name implies, one of the oldest ports in the new world - and certainly one of the busiest. Fully loaded merchant ships arrive daily, their cargoes emptied and replaced with the plunder of the New World almost overnight so they can return home on the next turn of the wind. Beyond the grand ports themselves, this district is home to all the most respectable shipping companies, merchant banks, hotels, and townhouses and apartments, as well as all the official consulates and embassies that Sethennai plays host to. 

Faction of Note: First Bank of Sethennai

    Despite only being as old as Prince Cael’s reign, the Bank already feels like an eternal and irreplaceable part of Sethennai. This isn’t something people are necessarily happy about, but its leadership had done a truly amazing job at keeping dissent to grumbling and resentment of the inevitable, and not actual resistance. They’re good at that sort of thing, even when they used Prince Cael’s (and, thus, the City’s) massive debts to his foreign benefactors as justification for taking control of the city’s tariffs and tolls, and began rigorously enforcing them, possibly for the first time ever. 

    Combined with a legal monopoly on the ability to mint coins, this has of course made the Bank incredibly wealthy. But not to the degree that might be assumed - the riches collected are to a large degree shipped back east to foreign creditors. Of the remaining, quite a bit is invested with as much an eye for politics as strict profit. 

    Executive Director Salman Ticaret, like most of his staff, is a Sethennai native who sought education in the Commonwealth (like most, he took a new name on gaining citizenship). Along with modern accounting and investing techniques, he came home with a firm grasp of political economy - and so for the last decade and a half has been more than happy to offer favorable rates to well positioned patrician and merchant houses, in exchange for their own favors and consideration in turn. The result is that the bank’s marble halls and adamant vaults house information as much as money. And Ticaret is perfectly willing to invest both, if the opportunity is promising enough. 

Foreign Interests

The League of Free Cities

The League of Free Cities is not so much a single power as a collection of fiercely independent deomcratic city-states held together by the intertwined private empires of their leading citizens, deep and interdependent trading relationships, and a common religion that the rest of the world calls demon-worship - they view this as deeply offensive. Also they’ve been doing it for hundreds of years and they’re not all dead yet, so clearly everyone else is just doing demonology wrong. Politics are a mess of knives in the dark and openly bribing the voting populace with feasts and spectacles, with glory and riches to anyone who can hold the mob’s favor for long. 

Demonic evocation - and the arts learned as a result of it, like fleshweaving, orienomarchy , breaking reality down into elemental chaos and shaping it to your whims, and so on - are in the rest of the world generally met with very thorough execution, making the freethinkers of the League the world’s bleeding edge in magical innovation. The entire culture of the League is also nearly custom-made to produce bold idiots willing to do what it takes to get rich or die trying, and the various Free City’s Adventurers Guilds are (in)famous the world over. 

Until recently, the Free Cities considered Sethennai, if not one of them, then at least a younger sibling or benevolent dependency. Prince Cael’s coup has been taken as something of a wound, and the merchant interests who have lost out as he opened trade have made sure that in the decades since his name has become synonymous with bloody-handed tyranny. The first broadsheets celebrating his death will sell out in moments, and the acclaimed merchant adventurer Vyas Asraya, said to be en route to the city, is said to be very optimistic about future trading opportunities. 

Holy Illyric Empire

Technically speaking a vast and sprawling feudal state unified only in the person of the Sovereign (Empress of Illyrin, Queen of Belthaya, Defender of the Hierophant of Imir, Grand Duchess of Abhari, etc, and so on, and so forth), the Empire dominates the better part of two continents, and in terms of size and prestige is unquestionably the foremost state on the globe. It is also a bureaucrat’s nightmare, its aristocracy distracted from their internal feuds only when they need to defend their ancestral rights from central overreach. 

Ancient controls and long established relationships make Imperial binders the most fearsome conjurers and thaumaturges in the known world, a process not at all hurt by the wholesale incorporation of any powerful spirits or terrestrial god who will sign on the dotted line into the official pantheon. Illyrin Paladins are also easily the most storied heavy cavalry the world has ever seen, and Abharic necromancers are generally held to be the heirs (or direct pupils) of the inventors of the craft. 

Illyric interests have prospered under Prince Cael’s reign, but the last years have seen Sethennai become a haven for heretical priests and radical binders, something Ambassador Konrad Reingard has been rumored to be increasingly frustrated with, though no one heard a word from his Oldport estate since the chaos began.

The Sublime Esheri Commonwealth

A thoroughly modern and enlightened state, the Commonwealth is history’s gift to the cartographer, an empire with firmly delineated borders and clear, rationally determined administrative divisions. Governed by a Janissary Corps educated and conditioned from childhood to put principle above self interest and the good of the Commonwealth above friends or (nonexistent) family, the Esheri control far less land than the Illyrin Empire, but has been able to fight it to a standstill and even force it to abandon certain far flung dependencies over a series of wars across the last century. 

Beyond a ruthlessly efficient system for taxation and conscription, the Commonwealth’s military might is credited to two sources - on the one hand, its marines are the finest and most disciplined line infantry anyone is likely to ever see, experts in the use of gas and artillery and famously cool under fire. One the other, their heavy automata are an answer to any conjured devil or bound beast, enlightened clockwork providing enough force to cleave through scales and enchanted plate without missing a beat. But the Janissaries are as happy as their enemies to admit that they prefer unfair fights - though they credit their infamous spy network to the fruits of their scientific studies of society and history, while their enemies instead blame the corrupting effects of gold, blackmail, and a complete indifference to the morals of those they work with. 

While the Commonwealth does have an embassy in the city, it mostly exists as an appendage of the First Sethennai Bank, the private institution responsible for printing and guarding the solvency of the city’s currency, its entire upper rung staffed by experts trained in the Commonwealth and generally considered Prince Cael’s way of paying back their support for his coup. More recently, it has been rumored that the Secretariat has taken an interest in the struggles in the interior. Coincidentally, an ‘Academic’ has been seen floating around various less than reputable bars in Chance, ostensibly as part of a project to record the city’s myths and folklore. 

The Warlord States

For the last two hundred years, the interior has been an evershifting patchwork of successor kingdoms, native revolts, monstrous empires, released horrors, and stranger things besides, the unending tide of weapons and adventurers ensuring that no single player was ever able to secure dominance (and the various rulers of Sethennai have certainly played their part in keeping things that way). At the moment the foremost powers are a giantblooded kingdom led by a messaniac priest-king claiming to be the reincarnation of a Titan, a personal union enforced at sword point between a Khasli pirate queen and a goliath ‘emperor’, a red dragon who has claimed an old giant palace and forced the dwarves living in the mountains around it to provide tribute and worship, and several dozen more minor principalities. It should go without saying that war is the natural state of being, and soldiers are sucked up like ships in a whirlpool.

Adventurers are the lifeblood of Sethennai, and they don’t only flow one way. A constant stream of veterans - either enriched or embittered - skulk, limp or run back once they’ve had their fill of the wonders of the new world, usually missing something important or carrying something priceless - sometimes both. The courts and inner circles of every powerful warlord are composed exclusively of this sort of hard, tricky and generally insufferable type of rogue, and they’re often the only agents trusted enough to be dispatched on delicate missions. The line between warlord and criminal kingpin or pirate magnate is also extremely thin - sometimes nonexistent - as smuggling, sabotage and assassinations are simply basic tools of statecraft in the ruthless arena of the interior. More than once, an ambitious Prince of Sethennai has attempted to recreate their ancestor’s short lived empire, only to be found butchered in their bed but the agents of one warlord or another.

The Warlord States view Sethennai as a vital artery for supplies and funding, and for manpower to refill their armies with disposable bodies for their constant border wars. On a grander scale, those with ambition view it as either a crown jewel and future capital, or a bleeding ulcer on the land which needs to be razed to its foundations. In either case, few are interested in a strong, stable government for it. Regardless of their opinions, sending emissaries and embassies to the city is the first (and often only) diplomatic initiative of every new warlord state - though in truth their role is often closer to mercenary recruiter and fundraiser.

[rjhpandapaws]

Music and Magic among Knights and Thieves

Chapter 1: The House of Lies Shall Fall

House Arkait was one of the oldest noble houses in the country. They were a family of strong magic, it was what had given them their prowess. Except that in recent years they hadn’t been much more than a symbol of intimidation. Up until Connor and Silas had been born no one in the past one hundred years or so had been able to actually use magic. House Arkait as it was now known was built upon appearances and lies. Connor could use creature magic; he could change his shape as well as understand animals. Silas had been born with pyrokinetic magic which had been interesting to say the least. Richard had been born with script magic, he could see runes and use them as he wished. After generations of nothing House Arkait had three gifted mages within its ranks. It would come across like their place in the council of nobles had been saved. Except Connor had changed shape and made off in the night as soon as he was of age. He sent letters occasionally, but took care not to say where he was in the case that someone other than Silas or Richard had gotten a hold of it. Silas was the next to leave. A mercenary has been travelling through town and caught his eye. They had left together when the mercenary couldn’t find anymore work to do. Which had left Richard on his own, at the mercy of their advisors.

He would the first to admit that he had caught a bit of wanderlust from the letters he received from his brothers. He was left to learn and take on the role of the figure head for the house. Keep their secrets, and continuing to tell lies on the behalf of the house, anything to save face. Personally he would rather the house finally fell, he just didn’t want to be around when it did. Nobility and its ruled were relics from a bygone era. Richard started slowly. He collected all of the spell books  that were in the main house; the rest were too much of a risk. The more out dated ones he sold which left him with enough money to safely travel and about six books he could use in the event that he ran into trouble. He packed as lightly as he could, he planned to spend most of his time on the road and he didn’t want to be overly weighed down. He packed the bare minimum of medical supplies, he was fairly decent with healing magic. Travel clothes that wouldn’t immediately mark him as a noble. Lastly he packed his lute and violin. He was great with magic, but that much better with music, The full moon was high in the star littered sky when the last heir of House Arkait vanished into the night. The last standing pillar began to crumble. Without loyalty in a house of lies, what was left? With the last of them gone all that remained in those once hallowed halls were the secrets and lies. It would only be a matter of time before the house fell to the hands of those it had wronged. Richard slipped trough the iron gates. He looked over his shoulder at the manor house one last time overcome with a sense of freedom. This was the start of something amazing.

Richard’s first few weeks on the road was a crash course in how the real world worked. He might not have looked like a noble, but his lack of knowledge on even the most basic things definitely seemed to mark him as one. The people who went out of their way to rip him off aside, he had not been prepared for how expensive living on the road could actually. Performing in taverns as well as on street corners was making him considerable money, but not quite enough so he had to sell a few more of his spell books. Authentic written magic caught a high price and since they were rare he could always track them down again if he needed to. He sold three of them and went on his way. It was a couple months after he had left when he started to hear the first few whispers of change. He found himself smiling at the ‘rumors’ that the last heir to House Arkait had vanished into the night without a trace. He was having something to drink and a light meal before he performed. As he ate he listened to a rowdy green eyed stranger go on about it. He was in the armor of this city’s knights and given the size Richard had the suspicion that it was stolen, but it was none of his business.

“You see,” The man said gruffly, he sounded just this side of waisted, “I think the little noble was kidnapped. Coming from a family like that would fetch a pretty bit of gold. Not to mention, Imagine being even just a part of the group that caused the fall of House Arkait.” It took everything Richard had in him not to laugh or throw in his two cents.  The acting head of house had put out a reward for his return so he would be wise to keep his head down. The last letter he had gotten from his brothers said they were doing the same thing. Both Connor and Silas were presumed dead because how long they had been ‘missing’, but one small slip up could change all of that. Richard wasn’t so lucky, he had to keep a close eye on himself so he wouldn’t slip up. Richard finished his meal and paid for it. He grabbed his things,  checked the time, and then made his way to the stage to get set up. He put an amplification spell on his lute and another one on his throat to make his voice louder. Performing like this easier on him, but he was only planning on doing it until he was used to performing regularly because it felt too much like cheating.

He sang two sets and felt like he had eaten sandpaper afterward. Normally he only would do one set and maybe an encore if he was up to it. The crowd tonight had been very receptive so he found himself going longer than he should have. He packed up and made his way back to the bar to order something to soothe his throat. Richard hadn’t even put his hand up to flag the bartender when a drink was set in front of him. He looked to his left where the drink had come from to find the ‘knight’ from earlier. He looked a little more sober now. “Thank you?” Richard questioned, “Might I ask what this is for?” “You performance mostly.” The man responded as he settled into the seat beside Richard, “We don’t normally get musicians like you around these parts.” Richard swallowed thickly, it hurt his throat but he needed a moment. Had he screwed up? Did this man know? He took a breath and schooled his expression, “Care to explain what you mean?” “Magic users.” The man clarified, “You lot normally stick to the nobles, they pay better than taverns. So I suppose I’m just curious as to what would bring you to a place like this.”

Richard felt all of the tension melt from his body and he smiled, “I wanted to see more of the world.” He said honestly, “Playing for the same crowds every few weeks paid well, but by doing this I can write my own songs.” “There’s no one you have to worry about pissing off.” The stranger supplied, “That has to be nice.” “It is.” Richard agreed. He used magic to check his drink for poison before he tried it, “Could I ask your name?” “Most people just call me Reed.” He replied, “Got something I can call you?” “Nines.” He replied, and then turned his head away to cough, “Forgive me, I sang more than normal this evening and my throat isn’t too pleased with me.” Reed seemed to understand. He continued to keep him company and told tales of his travels. Richard was relatively certain he was exaggerating quite a few details. Reed seemed delighted when he asked if it would be alright to use some of his misadventures in his songs.  They parted ways reluctantly when Richard found himself struggling to keep his eyes open. When he reached his room and settled in for the night he hoped he would cross paths with Reed again soon. To maybe have an adventure like his someday.

Winter was creeping its way along the coast and Richard had gained a bit of a reputation as a travelling musician. He had been gone for nearly a year when he heard more whispers. It seemed as though House Arkait was finally starting to crumble. Secrets had found their way into the open and people were beginning to demand answers. He would hate to be the acting head of house right about now. She was little more than an advisor, but she had been pulling the strings for as long as Richard had been alive, if not longer. He felt no guilt in leaving her head on the chopping block since she had all but been orchestrating things.  Just like before, he took steps to keep his head down. He would watch as the House of Lies fell, not too unlike one made of cards. When this was over he would at last be free to become whatever he wished. To carve out his place in a world he had only gotten to watch through a window.

[writersrealmbts]

Clearwater Springs: Part 1

Description: ot7 x reader, reader’s choice, fairy/supernatural/soulmate au. The choices you make influence the story! In this world, war-torn and ragged, you’ve been offered a home and a job working as a librarian. Will you meet your soulmates? Will you ever find the shelves behind the piles of books? Who knows.

Warnings: None

Posted: 08/29/2020

Tags: ot7 x reader, supernatural bts, 

5,111 words

A/N: Once I was actually able to write, this came out really easily. I hope you guys enjoy it and don’t forget to do the pre-chapter 2 survey (link at the end of post)! 

You stared up at the house in a bit of a daze, still untethered. Still vulnerable.

“Isn’t it magnificent?! A real masterpiece, this house.”

You glanced at your over-enthusiastic caseworker, then looked back up at the grand Victorian house, wondering if the inside matched the outside, and why such a grand house was way out in the middle of nowhere. Why its owner would offer to take in strays, misfits, and others in need of a new home after the recent war when they were obviously still doing well despite the near economic collapse.

Your caseworker was practically bouncing up to the house, making you dizzy as he jostled the itty-bitty fountain you were temporarily tied to.

But you’d been dealing with that for a month, and you were getting pretty good at walking a straight line while the world appeared to spin around you.

“Now, if you and he agree at the end of the day, you’ll be tethered to a natural spring and the creek it runs into nearby, and you’ll stay in one of the spare rooms and you’ll help him organize and keep his library, which he runs as a traditional library—when organized—for some of the locals.”

You didn’t bother responding since he didn’t seem to be looking for a response, instead heavily trodding up to the front door as he rang the doorbell.

“Also, to simulate what life will be like, I’ll be leaving you for the day once I set your fountain down in a safe spot.”

“You said,” You murmured, closing your eyes for a moment, feeling yourself swaying from side to side. As a xana, you were originally tethered to a fountain many miles away, but as the war reached that town, your fountain had been damaged and your original workplace—a large library where you specialized in the children’s section, reading to them and singing your songs—utterly demolished. Because the fountain wasn’t completely destroyed, you survived. An experimental spell and three weeks later and there you were, standing on the steps of the home of a human where you would be exchanging work for a place to sleep and food to eat. You didn’t even need that much food, about a meal a day was enough for you when your tethered place was healthy and strong and not being jerked around like a dog was playing tug-of-war with it.

The front door opened, revealing a man with pink hair. “Hello, you must be Y/n. We’ve been expecting you. Welcome to Clearwater Springs.”

“We?” You asked, glancing at your worker.

The human did as well. “You told her about the house’s haltija, right?”

You relaxed. “Oh. Just a haltija?”

“Well, he’s also half-brownie, but thankfully that only manifests in the occasional clumsy or destructive moment. He’s quite friendly, though, and very fond of the forest,” The human spoke quickly, as though afraid you would pass negative judgement on the haltija—creatures who were known for guarding and protecting—for having brownie blood—admittedly, creatures who could become troublesome when disrespected, but otherwise also keepers of the home and chore-doers for the kind.

“I’m sure he’s very kind and gentle,” You replied.

“Right. And you’re a xana?”

You nodded.

“And...I’m sorry, I’m not sure what exactly that is, other than the fact that you’re generally tied to some form of pure water, like fountains, springs, rivers, waterfalls….”

You nodded. “I’m originally from a fountain. Um...I’m not sure how to explain what I am.”

Your caseworker took that hint. “Oh! Right, well, they seem to always know virtuous hearts through some test or other—though no one ever seems to be able to pin down the test—um, they have enchanted songs that bring feelings of peace and love to the pure and could almost kill those who are impure. Um, let’s see, she has combs made of moonbeams and sunlight, respectively. Can’t completely care for babies, but once they can feed themselves she’s fine.”

You frowned, fighting yourself not to glare at him. Your species couldn’t produce milk, so in the old days—before there was formula—it was a sort of changeling situation. A Xanino would replace a human child. Terrible, but true. Nowadays, most xaninos were adopted by naiads or other nature or house spirits—because now it was scandalous to try and raise your own child as a xana.

“Oh, she has treasure, but who knows where she keeps that—”

“It’s enchanted, you’re not supposed to know where I keep it,” You muttered, even though he wasn’t paying any attention to you.

“And she can give you a drink that we call ‘Love water’. Couldn’t tell you why, and I’ve never seen her hand it out. Think that’s it. Here’s her fountain, I’ll be back at sundown.”

The human almost dropped the fountain that was shoved into his hands, and if he wasn’t so surprised you thought he might have yelled at your caseworker.

But the car peeled down the driveway again, kicking up dirt.

You stared after him, a little disconcerted. “Mages.”

“Um, well, we’ve been preparing for your arrival. We’ve gotten the basement bathroom renovated so that you can shower or bathe in the waters of your spring when you need, and your bedroom is ready for you. We thought you’d prefer to decorate it with your things...but looking back now I probably should have known you wouldn’t have many things. It’s a hard time for everyone,” The human rambled, rubbing his neck. “Oh, I’m Seokjin, by the way.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose your name would be important. I’d hate to be rude and just refer to you as ‘The Human” when you’re my boss.”

Seokjin looked startled at the title. “I’d rather think of it as a partnership. I’ve been told I shouldn’t live alone, and you needed a new home. Also, my library is out of control and I have no idea where to start—I mean, other than the new library building that we just finished. Don’t worry, it’s very close to your water source as well, but your spring is still highly protected.”

You just nodded, wondering why he didn’t stare like most humans did. You were beautiful—that was one of the key points of defining a xana: being extraordinarily beautiful. Xana’s were considered more beautiful than any other species—and only a few other species even tried to contend with it since yours was more rare, and therefore more worth the attention.

“Um, let’s get inside so I can set this down. We’ll make sure Namjoon steers completely clear of it.” Seokjin stepped back and leaned his head in a gesture that suggested welcoming you inside and to follow him.

He led the way through the entry, and then to the living room through the arch immediately to the right. He took the fountain and placed it on a table that was against the wall—out of the way of general traffic. “There. Now, Namjoon should be around somewhere. Probably the garden, he likes it out there. But for now let me show you the house, including where you’ll be staying and then we’ll go and talk about the library. There’s a lot of work that I want to do, Namjoon is heavily involved in that too. He likes books, but between us...we don’t really have the skills to put what we want into action—which is why we’re really excited that you’re here.” He started the tour.

“I’ll do my best to h-hell, what is this hell?” You said, looking at the mess. It looked somewhat like a library, except you couldn’t even see the shelves. It was just piles upon piles of books, newspapers, journals, magazines, and comic books with a thin path between it all.

Seokjin winced. “It is...mildly organized. We’ve been receiving donations. Don’t worry, there will be a bigger place, we mostly just need to pack all of this up and move it to the new facility in an...organized fashion.”

You pointed at the mix of magazines and books. “This is organized.”

“I did say somewhat, didn’t I? We had a large influx of books very suddenly. Things got very messy in the chaos of it all. I think they were sending us books from destroyed libraries.” He shrugged a bit. “Don’t worry. We’ll be helping at every turn and I’m bringing in extra workers from town as needed.”

You supposed that was supposed to be comforting, but you were staring at a nightmare of a situation. One toppling tower, and there was no navigating through.

“Hyung? Is that you?” The pile asked.

Then it was all falling over and someone was diving out while Seokjin pulled you against the wall and out of the way.

Seokjin sighed. “Namjoon. Our guest is here.”

The man with blue hair looked up, then back at his legs (which were trapped under many books), then back at you. He stared at you with big eyes, looking a little flustered.

You took a deep breath. “Well, that is exactly what we didn’t want to happen.”

“Yeah. Namjoon, didn’t we talk about not going in there?” Seokjin bent down and grabbed Namjoon under the arms and pulled him out from the pile, helping him to his feet.

“I just wanted the next book in my series.” Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck. “I was doing okay until then.”

Seokjin shook his head a bit. “Namjoonie, this is y/n. She’s the one that’s going to stay with us and help with the library?”

Namjoon was definitely already staring at you, and he looked a little flustered and red. “Hi.”

“She’s a xana. Y/n, this is Namjoon, the haltija of the house.”

“Uh, nice to meet you,” Namjoon said hurriedly.

“Nice to meet you, too,” You replied, trying for a smile, but you were pretty sure you just gave him a woozy look.

“Maybe you should lie down before we continue the house tour? He was jostling your fountain around quite a bit.” Seokjin frowned toward the front door.

Namjoon nodded. “He’s right. You need rest. I can tell.”

You shrugged. “Nah, the world is supposed to be constantly spinning.”

“Should I carry her? Should I carry you?” Seokjin asked, sounding and looking a little panicked.

You shrugged. “I’m fine. This has been my life for the past three months.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened.

Seokjin looked like he was going to have a meltdown.

“Unless you’re going to have a panic attack, in which case you may carry me if it will help you,” You said quickly, concerned with how quickly he was freaking out.

Namjoon glanced at the human, then nodded. “I think that might be the only way to stall him out. He’s not wearing his glasses.”

You shrugged again, uncertain what not having glasses had to do with anything, and waited while Namjoon muttered something to Seokjin.

A couple moments later, Seokjin came over, muttering something about being sorry, then he carefully scooped you up. “Sorry, your dress is a little slippery. Silk?”

You nodded. “Yeah. My clothes just sort of...appear as I need them? Usually made of silk, but sometimes there’s a velvet cloak when it’s colder. Some linen when it’s warmer. Always dresses.”

“Cool,” Namjoon said, following the two of you up the stairs.

“I suppose so,” You replied, doing your best not to look at Seokjin. He was handsome for a human. And you’d never seen a non-fairy pull off pink hair before today. He had a sort of gentleness to his face, a softness that could easily become cold and judgemental. If that even made sense.

But honestly, there were very few things that made sense since the war had begun some ten years ago.

“Why is your hair blue?” You asked the haltija, looking over Seokjin’s shoulder as you realized you had been looking at him despite specifically thinking you shouldn’t and only noticing because his ears had started turning a violent shade of red.

“Oh...uh...we’re not really sure. It just sort of...changes now and then. A few days ago I woke up and it was this color. Before that it had been brown.”

“Did you two paint any part of the house?”

“Well, not in the same time frame as my hair color changing. And definitely not this color. Jin-hyung has this crazy theory that it’s connected to my soulmate or something.”

“You have a soulmate?” You asked, surprised.

He nodded, rubbing his left shoulder-pectoral area, which meant either his mark was located there or he had some muscle pain from his dive for freedom in the great August book-slide. “Yeah. Or...well, I have multiple sections in my mark...so, I guess I’m part of a soul-group. Probably a platonic one given my species.”

“You never know what’s waiting around the riverbend,” You replied, thinking back to Grandma Loire’s wise words when you had been fretting about the war. Granted, at that time, her words had been very wrong, but you wouldn’t begrudge the dead for their mistakes.

But also thinking about your own soulmark and the multiple parts in it. You were certain it was just a coincidence, but it was still an interesting fact that you filed away.

“You sound like a naiad,” Namjoon snorted.

“A naiad told me that. She was very wrong at the time. Told me not to worry about the battle in Manhattan.”

“Ooh,” He winced. “Very wrong.”

Seokjin held onto you a little tighter. “Where did you live before this?”

“Rocamadour. Our library was new when I started working there. Before there were a couple but they were in some towns over.”

“Where is that?” Namjoon asked.

“It’s in the Alps,” Seokjin answered, then paused at the top of the stairs. “Get the door?”

The door swung open before Seokjin had finished asking.

You craned your head to look at Namjoon, suddenly concerned with your privacy.

He held up his hands. “I can open doors and windows, I can’t see through walls. I can also hear things, if you want me to. If you want me to hear, just knock or tap your foot three times and I’ll listen.”

You nodded slightly and relaxed again.

Seokjin carried you into the room, which was painted such a calm color. The bed was a queen-size, and it was soft when he lay you in the middle of it. The top blanket was velvet-y and so, so soft.

Namjoon gave you a smile when you let out a sound of appreciation.

Seokjin smiled at you. “Well, I’m going to find out whether he’s coming back to check in on you tonight or not while you rest, then we’ll go over other things and go to the spring. Feel free to go anywhere in the house, as long as it isn’t one of our bedrooms. Mine is on the first floor, Namjoon’s is across the hall. Food in the kitchen is up for grabs unless it’s in the meal-plan that I have on the fridge. Oh, that door there leads to your bathroom, the one next to it leads to your closet, and this third door leads to your sitting room or office or whatever you want to use it for. We’ll let you nap now.”

Namjoon dipped his head as Seokjin pushed and pulled him out of your bedroom door.

You stared at the closed door for a moment, then lay back. You were still so accustomed to sleeping on your fountain or in your fountain that this felt weird. But it felt weird in a heavenly sort of way. You slid up and then managed to slide under the covers, a little excited about the silk sheets. It was so nice.

So heavenly that you woke up feeling so refreshed that it had to be illegal. Sure, you still felt a little off (because the fountain you were temporarily tethered too wasn’t the greatest), but you felt much better than before.

You slid out of the sheets, enjoying the feel of the hardwood on your feet as you cautiously checked out your bathroom, closet, and sitting room (which only had an armchair and a small sofa). Once you had tested the seats (because you had to know which would be your favorite, it was the armchair), you ventured out into the hallway.

Namjoon’s door was open, but you didn’t hear anything in there, so you decided not to bother him.

Instead, you headed back the way you had been carried, looking around for more detail.

The structure of the house, the woodwork, the moulding, the baseboards and the stairway all had a distinctly Victorian style, and all were likely original to the house. But the design was more subtle, softer, and more contemporary in the coloring and the furniture. It was a nice sort of mix that gave the house an air of elegance that was refreshing. You’d been in some victorian-style homes before and they had been so overwhelmingly Victorian that it was like you were trapped in England in that time period and about to choke on a piece of jellied eel.

You avoided the pile of books spilling out of the library (but did notice that they’d been somewhat cleaned up), and checked out the living room again with the ulterior motive of checking on your current fountain.

The style was even more contemporary there, yet still paid a nice homage to the house. A monochrome color scheme, with pops of color in some of the throw pillows and delicate accents in the artwork.

Your fountain looked cleaner than ever and had a healthy amount of water in it for once, which you honestly felt boded well for you. There even seemed to be a new coating of pebbles at the bottom of the small basin.

You flinched as a cat hopped up onto the table next to the fountain and took a drink from it. It was young, a long-haired calico, so soft and pretty looking.

You let it sniff your hand, humming softly before you carefully picked it up. You snuggled it, happy when it seemed to revel in your attention, even seeking it when you started looking over the books that were seperated from the library and on the shelf beside the fireplace. There weren’t many, but you recognized one or two of the titles, and the taste there seemed to vary widely. You figured they were probably books from both of the boys, and left them as they were to go try and find the kitchen for a glass of water.

The office was nearby, but didn’t look like it got used as an office very often, but definitely seemed to have a gaming station in one corner.

You found the billiard’s room next, noting that there was a ping-pong table folded up in a corner. It seemed pretty abandoned, clean, but not nearly as used.

Then a smell permeated the air, drawing you back toward soft noise and even softer humming, murmured conversation and the sizzling of something cooking.

You peeked into the large kitchen, smiling when you saw Namjoon reading in one corner, and Seokjin cooking at the stove. Namjoon seemed to be explaining the book to Seokjin, quietly passionate about it.

Seokjin was smiling and humming, possibly more focused on what he was cooking, but still seeming to hear what Namjoon was saying.

“Smells good,” You said quietly, slipping completely into the room. Trying not to disturb the aura.

Seokjin turned and grinned at you. “Hey! You look like you feel better.”

You nodded. “That bed is heavenly. And thank you for cleaning the fountain.”

He shrugged. “It looked like it had been neglected for a while. Namjoon found some pebbles for it as well because he read that once they’ve been exposed to the tether it can make a transition easier, theoretically.”

Namjoon looked embarrassed, rubbing his neck. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to try it out.”

“That was very thoughtful,” You told him, smiling at him as well.

He was bright red after that.

Seokjin chuckled. “I’ll have dinner ready soon. Then I thought we could head down to the new library building, and then maybe go into town. There isn’t much, but I do need to pick up some things.”

You took the seat that Namjoon offered. “That sounds like a plan. Who’s the kitty?”

“Oh, that’s Parsley. She followed us home one day and has been here ever since.” Namjoon pet the cat carefully. “She’s a good mouser, so we just sort of created a pact that as long as she keeps us pest free, we’ll keep her pest-free.”

“She’s a cutie,” You said, pressing your cheek against the soft fur and enjoying the soothing vibrations of her purr. It was just one of the many things that made you feel so comfortable here. That and both men seemed relatively impervious to your enchanting beauty, which was refreshing. It gave you hope that this would work out. That you wouldn’t always be free-floating.

“She is. Do you know anything about this bird that practically forced it’s way into our house?” Seokjin asked, pointing toward the ceiling.

You leaned to the left to look at the little black and white fluff-ball. “Was wondering when he would show up. He’s been following me for a while. Don’t know why, but he seems to have formed an attachment. Whether he feels like conversing is a completely different matter.”

“Does he have a name?”

“Not that he’ll tell me.”

Namjoon started laughing.

Seokjin gave you an exasperated look. “What do you call him?”

“Fluffball, marshmallow, cotton swab, cotton ball, cotton candy, fairy floss—he really doesn’t like that one—squishy, fluffy, Caspar, and Leo.” You shrugged. “Like I said, he won’t tell me his name. Just what his name isn’t.”

“So, none of those are his name?”

“Well, fairy floss isn’t. I’ve gotten to the point where I think he’s just waiting for someone else to settle on a name for him—preferably one he likes.”

“And until then, he’s just going to come and go as he pleases?”

You shrugged again, holding it for a while.

Namjoon was still laughing, his smile revealing some adorable dimples.

“So...is he a magical bird?”

You looked up at your feathered friend, and resisted the urge to shrug once more. “Maybe?”

Seokjin huffed. “What does he eat?”

“Haven’t the foggiest. He always leaves to eat. Sometimes I’d see him eating bird-seed, but mostly he just flies off and comes back well-fed. I think he eats insects.”

“Great. He can deal with the mosquitos.” Seokjin spared the bird a glance, then dished up the food. “The store might have some insects we can get for him, just in case. You never know. They always have weird things.”

“Really?” You looked forlornly after the kitty as it leaped off and disappeared through another doorway. “Is it a magic shop?”

“Well….”

“We told you that Jin-hyung is the only human in town, didn’t we?” Namjoon asked, eyes widened slightly. “Everyone who lives in the area is magical to some extent, except for hyung.”

You shook your head, a little stunned. “No. No you did not tell me that.”

But man was that an idea to wrap your head around.

Seokjin shrugged, having plated up the food. “This is a pretty popular place for refugees. Sort of remote and accepting of different species. A nice place to make a fresh start.”

“But...you’re the only human. Doesn’t that get...I don’t know...lonely?”

He blinked at you, then shook his head and shrugged. “No? I have Namjoonie, and now you’re here too. And yeah, I’m outnumbered, but they’ve never held my species against me. I mean, that’s probably because I did sort of pay for the whole town, which isn’t much. But more people come each day, and some people move on to other places once they’ve gotten back onto their feet. It’s like an adventure, meet some new characters, help them on their journey, then return home to sleep in a big, soft, bed with a full belly.”

And maybe the look of genuine happiness on his face was just a little too alluring.

Maybe you were just desperate to belong somewhere, because when he included you...it was like the world lit up.

And no, you were not tearing up.

His hand covered yours, warmth spreading from his touch to the mark that was hidden under the sleeve of your dress as he smiled warmly at you. “I really do hope that this place becomes your home. Everyone deserves to have a home.”

And then he was moving away, maybe not even aware that he was one of your soulmates since he was human.

“Come on, let’s eat.”

Namjoon quickly complied with Seokjin’s words, but you were slower to follow, trying to figure out how all of this had come about.

“I heard that a new van full of people arrived yesterday, so I want to see if I can meet any of them. See if we still have enough housing for everyone. That might mean a couple people staying with us in the house if there isn’t enough housing. Is that okay?”

You nodded, just following their actions, but not taking as much food as they did. Mostly because you didn’t need much food to survive, but it smelled good. So good, and Seokjin did cook it himself.

“Alright, then it’s a plan. Eat, see the new library, go to the store, meet people, come home.” Seokjin nodded firmly at the end of the list, then seemed to remember something. “And talk to your mage-handler and see about tethering you to the spring. That’s probably more important. We can do the other things tomorrow if we have to, but the tethering should be done sooner rather than later. That is, if you want to be tethered to the spring. You wouldn’t necessarily have to live here your whole life, we could always get you your own home, it would just—”

“Living here is fine, and yes, I would like to be tethered to the spring,” You said quickly, noticing how his speech was deteriorating. “I just have one question.”

“Oh?” He looked so genuinely concerned, leaning forward in his seat.

“Namjoon said you wear glasses, so...have you actually seen me?”

Namjoon snickered.

Seokjin’s ears turned bright red. “Um. Yes. Yes I can see you. I have seen you. I’m seeing you. I, um, I put in my, um, contacts. I can see you quite clearly. Also, I could see you when I was closer. Just, not after a certain distance. And yes, we do plan on actively protecting you when we go out.”

You nodded. “Just curious.”

Namjoon paused after swallowing. “The mage is back.”

Seokjin sighed. “So, town tomorrow then. I’ll go let him in. I suppose this means I need to offer him dinner?”

“That would be the polite thing,” Namjoon said, gleefully.

Seokjin muttered as he left the room.

“He’s...unusual for a human,” You commented.

Namjoon nodded. “Yeah. He is. But he’s one of the best human’s I’ve ever met. We’re really glad you’re going to stay with us, Y/n. I hope you never regret your choice.”

“I hope so too.” But you didn’t think you would.

Namjoon turned toward the door, eyes narrowed slightly before rolling his eyes. “Can you help me cover the food? Apparently Mr. Mage is insisting on doing the tethering now if you agree to it.”

You rolled your eyes and got up to help him cover all three plates and the platters and bowls with tin foil to possibly retain some warmth. You highly doubted you’d be eating again that evening since tethering made you impossibly nauseous and sleepy. “I won’t be very coherent after the tethering.”

He nodded. “We’ll make sure you get back here and into bed safely, or into the tub downstairs.”

You nodded, then followed him out to where Seokjin was listening to your mage, looking strained.

“Ah, so, have you decided whether you wish to be tethered to the spring here or not?”

“I have decided to be tethered, yes.” Anything to not be in his careless hands anymore.

“Excellent! I’ll get the fountain!”

“How about I grab it, that way your hands are free to do the actual spell,” Jin quickly intervened. “Namjoon can lead the way back to the mouth of the spring.”

You breathed a sigh of relief as the mage agreed to it. At least Seokjin would be careful.

“Alright, then lets head to this spring! I’d love to be on the road before dark.”

Namjoon’s chin jutted out slightly.

Seokjin just gave a pained smile, nodding. “Yes. Driving after dark is a pain. Namjoon. Lead the way.”

And you weren’t about to tell on Namjoon when you saw one of the floorboards pop up to trip the mage, because you kind of felt somewhat vindicated.

The forest around the house was made up primarily of spruces, firs, pines, and hemlocks with birches, oaks, and red maples popping through here and there. The path that the four of you took (with a little fluffball following overhead and a calico furball following behind curiously) was discreet, yet also fairly well-worn. As though walked often, but also well-cared for.

It was quiet, with varying degrees of density—some areas providing a wide view of the rest of the forest, and other areas being so dense that you couldn’t see a foot past the nearest tree.

Namjoon followed the path for a while, then diverged into the forest down what appeared to be a game-trail, something not walked often.

Then you could sense the water. It’s purity, it’s cleanliness. Free and untethered.

The creek was beautiful, and all of you followed it to the head of the spring.

You grinned when you saw it, a thrill going through you. It was beautiful and so clean and lovely and it was going to be yours.

Seokjin set your fountain down so that the mage could prepare the spell, then came over to you. “You’re sure about this?”

You looked into his eyes, the eyes of one of your soulmates, and nodded. “I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, a little more carefree now.

You hoped you’d have the courage to talk about soulmates with him someday, but today you were going to have your soul ripped from a tiny fountain and sewn back into a spring. You only had so much courage.

And then the mage started the spell.

--

Survey Results used for this chapter: 

Namjoon-Blue (haltija), Seokjin-Pink (human), You-Cyan (xana) 

Silk, Book-Librarian, Creek-what your water source is attached to, House/Apartment/Mansion, Style-Victorian & Contemporary, view-boreal/boreal-mix forest, calico kitty, white bird with black wings, 

Whoops-meet Seokjin first, Oh No-meet Namjoon second, LaLaLa-C (some friends, some strangers), Loyalty-Soulmate au, Black-War tore through and you're all in relief housing situation.

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Pre-Chapter 2 Survey

Next.

Masterlist.  ot7 Masterpost.

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Taglist: @missmoxxiesworld​  @bryvada​  @i-dont-even-know-fck​ @knjhe​ @alex--awesome--22  @kerikaaria​ @killcomet​ @letsreadbts​ @taestannie​

[destielharlequinchallenge]

The Destiel Harlequin Challenge Master Post: 2020 Mega Bang

Participants in the 2020 Destiel Harlequin Challenge completed an amazing 20 fics and 3 sets of artwork! You can learn all about those here!

Spectre (fic by a_dusky_gold, art by aceriee)

This whole thing… this was supposed to be a fucking farce. A way to keep Nicholas Vaught occupied until the deadline he’d given Dean would run out, and he’d still get the money to send Dad to the Town Hall rehabilitation for alcoholism, because that was the goddamned deal.

There were no such things as ghosts or magic or a Book of Life. Dean knows, okay? He wasn’t the Army’s goddamned Mystery Raider for nothin’; he knows history, he knows artifacts, and he knows that the Book of Life is an ancient myth that is about as real as werewolves or vampires.

And yet.

“The Book of Life,” the man had said. Dean can’t even remember his name.

Shit, shit, shit.

Dangerous Ground by Amethystaris

Special Agents for the Department of Diplomatic Security, Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester have been partners and best friends for three years, but everything changed the night Cas admitted the truth about his feelings for Dean. And when Cas was shot a few hours later, Dean felt his reluctance to get involved was vindicated.

Can a camping trip in the High Sierras save their partnership?

Honour Undressed by andimeantittosting

Among his friends, Castiel, Lord Milton is everyone’s confidant and, along with his trusted valet, the fixer of problems. But there is one secret Castiel has never shared: he is in love with his valet and has been for years.

Born in the gutters, Dean Winchester was assigned as Castiel’s batman in the war, and when Castiel travelled home to take up his title, Dean followed him as his valet. To assist Castiel, Dean is not above a little burglary or blackmail. But the one thing he wants for himself is Castiel’s heart.

When Castiel’s closest friends become the target of a blackmailer, certain truths come out. But while Dean determines to seduce Castiel, Castiel is adamant that he must resist, for if there is one rule a gentleman must follow, it is never to dally with his servant.

Havenport by BlueMasquerade

Castiel cleared space on his desk by the expedience of sweeping the previous contents to the side. He set the bundle down in the center of the surface and studied the knots in the rope before expertly untying them.

The book was old, its leather bindings cracked and crumbling. He carefully opened the cover to reveal the pages within, each hand cut, the edges beautifully deckled, the text written in pen and ink.

“This is written in ancient Enochian.” Castiel looked up, gaze narrowed. “Where did you obtain a book written in ancient Enochian?”

“Is that what it is? All I could tell is that it sure as hell isn’t English.” Mr. Winchester grinned, a dimple flashing in his cheek.

an aching in my heart by contemplativepancakes

When Dean’s best friend dies, leaving behind her daughter, Dean knows he has what it takes to give Claire the life she deserves. The problem is, they’re not related by blood, and Claire’s long lost uncle gets called to take her in. Castiel Novak was bad news when he was in highschool with Dean, and judging by his blue hair and tattoo sleeves, nothing’s changed. Castiel ran out on his family once before, and there’s no way Dean’s going to let that happen to Claire without putting up a fight.

Fools and Fate by Danica_Dust

Castiel Novak fled his coven to escape the rigid, predetermined Fate laid out for him within its confines. Desperate and alone, he took shelter in the city of Sacriloga, forsaking all magic and living off whatever he could steal. There, witches like Cas are hunted. They are feared. And they are burned.

When Jack, a young witch also on the run from his own coven, seeks out Cas’ aid, however, Cas finds that he cannot reject the boy, leaving him to his sure destruction. Especially after the newest visitor to Sacriloga makes his presence known: the legendary Hunter, Dean Winchester, who has been following Jack’s trail.

Sworn to the Men of Letters, Hunters live by one principle: thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. Dean’s path was never meant to cross with Cas', but a desperate stunt and a single mistake forces them into an impossible union—holy matrimony.

The war between the witches and the Men of Letters is an ancient one and Cas' most dangerous enemies bring a Fate worse than fire. Unable to ignore his growing feelings, yet powerless to change what he is, a choice must be made.

A suffocating Fate on one hand. A precarious freedom on the other. And in between, the kind of love that makes fools of us all.

Ozone by Deancebra

A young magic user who wants desperately to live. A jaded recluse who has forgotten what living means. They’re each other’s only chance.

Dean’s wild magic is killing him. The mage guilds have given up on him, and it’s only a matter of time before he dies in a spectacular, catastrophic bang. His only hope is an exiled wizard who lives in seclusion—and is rumored to have lost his mind.

The years alone on his hilltop estate have not been good for Castiel Novak. After the magical accident that disfigured him and nearly destroyed the village, he drifts through his days, a wraith trapped in memories and depression. Until a stricken young man collapses on his driveway, one who claims Castiel is his last chance. For the first time in fifteen years, Castiel must make a choice—leave this wild mage to his fate or take him in and try to teach him, which may kill them both. The old Castiel, brash and commanding, wouldn’t have hesitated. Castiel the exile isn’t sure he can find the energy to try.

A Demon Like Him by EllenOfOz

Dean Winchester doesn’t want to be a warlock. The idea of working in a lab, channeling demonic magic into enchanted batteries is not what he wants to do with his life, but it’s a dangerous opinion to have—his father was a powerful and well-connected warlock, and Dean is expected to follow the family tradition.

His only way out is to fail the demon summoning class—failure means expulsion from the Warlock College. Despite Dean’s best efforts to fumble the summoning, it works. Although not the way anyone expects.

Dean’s demon, Castiel, is an incubus, but also a powerful mage on a mission to rebalance the magic that is being stripped from Demonside by warlocks.

Dean must choose: fail out of his final exam and turn his back on becoming a warlock, or help Castiel and graduate. But he doesn’t count on how hot the incubus is, or how close they have become in just a few days.

A Working Relationship by fangirlingtodeath513

The homes that Castiel Novak designs for Angelic Houses are to die for. They’re pristine, perfectly designed and organized, and they’ve caused more than a few bidding wars. It’s the perfect job—he’s organized, good with math, and he’s able to pick up on design trends relatively quickly. The only thing that isn’t perfect? His obnoxious older brother, Luke. Castiel’s been vying for a position on a flipping team for years now, but Luke has never even considered it. When a lecherous gossip reporter overhears an argument, they receive an offer they can’t refuse.

They’re invited to compete on Flip Off, a competition where two people flip houses and compete for the highest profit. Castiel wants the leverage a win would bring him, but he also wants to prove himself. Enter Dean Winchester, a contractor with his own team and one that’s blissfully unconnected to Angelic Houses, allowing Castiel to prove himself without any help from the family company.

The undeniable attraction between them certainly doesn’t help matters, but Castiel is resolute in his decision to make a move only after they’ve finished working together. At least, that had been his plan until Dean made him an offer he simply couldn’t refuse.

Crashing In by followyourenergy

Castiel Novak is convinced he’s the last unwillingly single person in Lupine Cove. Even Gabriel, his perpetual bachelor brother, has found love. It’s probably because Cas leads the most boring life in existence. He’s a gay man living in a rented, one-room cottage in the same small coastal town he grew up in, just getting by as the owner of the same convenience store he was practically raised in. The most excitement he gets is chatting with the locals or maybe, if he’s unlucky, oversleeping and rushing to work. So when a baby is left at the Safe Haven drop-off at the local fire station, he takes the opportunity to step in for the child temporarily, at least until suitable parents, plural, can be found.

Life certainly gets more interesting.

And it gets even more interesting when a handsome man comes crashing—literally—into his life.

Make Me Believe by GhoulsnHalos

Ten years ago, Castiel Novak’s stepfather disowned him, taking from him his place as hereditary heir to the head of the Hunter and Warrior Guild. Now, he’s a self-made, and celebrated, master gem and metal smith. Castiel doesn’t believe that the God’s decide your soulmate. Until he designs what can only be a gift fit for his soul mate, who in contradiction to the etiquette, if not the laws of Neffroen, must be a man.

Dean Winchester is convinced that he is a lowly, dumbass, no magic hunter who couldn’t possibly be on the same social scale as a Novak. So, why is it when he spots the jewelled torc in Castiel’s shop, Dean develops an obsession over the neckpiece and its creator? It can't be anything to do with the will of the Gods, no matter what anyone says, because that's baloney and Dean's not into men.

When Castiel’s long-lost brother turns up and suggests he ought to challenge their stepfather and that Dean is destined to help Castiel rule the clan, Castiel takes some convincing. The real problem is Dean. Can Castiel with the help of family and friends convince Dean of his place by Castiel’s side? Can Dean play the part everyone expects of him to help Castiel regain his rightful place in society?

Shielded Heart by JuniperJones

Arthos, the Infinite City, is a place of alien wonders and indescribable beauty—and, most importantly for Dean, it’s also halfway across the universe from his abusive ex-fiancé. He came to the city desperate for a fresh start, but he finds himself downtrodden on a world of aloof alien beings with little hope of finding his place—and a good chance of being kidnapped or killed before he can even settle in.

At least until he is saved by an irresistible alien with piercing eyes and a seductive smile.

Castiel is the living embodiment of temptation, and he makes no effort to disguise his desire for Dean. But when his past threatens to drag Dean into a dangerous underworld, Dean discovers Castiel isn’t who he claims to be. After enduring so much suffering, can Dean bear to take a leap of faith with this mysterious alien? Can he trust Castiel with not only his life, but his heart?

Stumble and Fall by Kitmistry

Castiel was raised to do one thing: serve his country, whether that was fighting a war or becoming an expert spy. But when his lover is charged with treason and executed Castiel defects. He has evidence that can destroy the KGB’s entire spy ring in New Mexico, he has names of scientists involved with atomic weapons who send information to the Soviets, and he won’t stop until he has revenge.

Putting all his trust in the Americans, Castiel finds himself under the protection of U.S. Marshal Dean Winchester, who is too cocky and attractive for his own good, but at least seems to know what he’s doing.

When a routine transfer to a safehouse goes horribly wrong, Castiel and Dean narrowly escape with their lives. With the Marshals compromised and Castiel being framed for murder, he and Dean are on the run from KGB and law enforcement alike. They have no one to trust except each other, and nowhere to go that their enemies can’t reach.

The Shots We Don’t Take by MandalaRose

Still nursing the tatters of a broken heart and trying desperately to stave off the terror of his impending graduation, college senior Cas Novak decides it’s time to blow off a little steam. Not just any hook-up will do, however. The last thing Cas needs right now is a distraction. On the lookout for someone he can enjoy a steamy night of passion with before leaving them behind entirely, Cas thinks he’s found exactly what he needs in cocky university hockey star and well-known playboy Dean Winchester.

Dean is gorgeous, doesn’t date, and is the singular most infuriating person Cas has ever met. He’s the perfect one night stand...that is, until Dean decides he wants an instant replay of what was supposed to be a one-time event. Will Cas’ offer of friends, sans benefits, convince the arrogant love ’em and leave ’em hockey defenseman to find an easier score? Or will Dean wear down Cas’ defenses and lure the sexy nerd in the dorky trenchcoat back to his bed?

Bullets Over the Bayou (fic by mattzerella_sticks, art by dontbelasagnax)

Everyone wants Castiel Novak to quit the force, including Castiel. But he stays on despite the toxic work environment he’s surrounded by. Still believing he can do some good despite the many lines of red tape impeding him. Luckily, a pair of scissors by the name of Dean Winchester drops into his hands, and he finally feels like he can do some good.

Dean Winchester thought he would be in New Orleans for a day or two. Identify the body of his deadbeat father and then move on. No one knows he’s here. His mother and brother are blissfully unaware of the danger his father roped him into. With a parting gift of a journal, delivered to him the same day he received word about his father, Dean has become the target of a group of people who want him dead. The same people who killed his father.

Racing against the clock, can Dean and Castiel figure out what is so important about John Winchester’s journal that someone would kill for it?

Masquerade by noxsoulmate

It had begun as such a good plan; one that benefitted them both. And masquerading as Castiel Krushnic's boyfriend during the weeks of balls, galas, and charity events certainly was no hardship. With the impending end of their arrangement, though, Dean Winchester must admit that behind the mask of an aloof CEO lies a man he could fall in love with. Or maybe, he already has…

The Medium by raths_kitten

Detective Dean Winchester hates it when his Chief sends a medium to consult on his cases. But this time, the murder is closely linked to Castiel’s world and they both need to work together to solve it.

Any Semblance of Touch (fic by saltnhalo, art by c-kaeru)

1925, New York.

Dean Winchester’s life’s work is protecting the world from the supernatural relics that could destroy it. When an amulet with the power to control the tides is shipped to New York, he must intercept it before it can be used to devastating effects. This time, in order to succeed, he needs a powerful psychometric… and the only one available has sworn off the magical world altogether.

Castiel Novak’s gift comes with great risk. To protect himself, he’s become a recluse, redirecting his magic into museum research. But with the city’s fate hanging in the balance, and faced with the power of Dean’s charm and persuasion…

He can’t force himself to say no.

The Love of a Righteous Man by SargentMom573

Five years ago, Captain Dean Winchester defied his father, Senator John Winchester. With his brother Sam, and his spaceship Impala, Dean found his place among a ragtag fleet of pirates and smugglers. Their latest mission left him with a price on his head and a scar on his heart. When a surprise attack separated him from Sam and revealed a Sith weapon, he would do whatever it took to bring his brother back – even sacrifice his own happiness.

After Emperor Michael’s death broke the psychic link between them, Emperor’s Hand Castiel Novak spent years drowning his sorrows at the bottom of a barrel. Mostly sober, three years ago he found a new purpose as the Impala’s Chief Medical Officer, and Sam Winchester’s guide in the Force. And a good friend in the Impala’s gruff but kind Captain.

Dean and Castiel must work together to bring Sam home alive. But when Castiel’s last mission is exposed, will Castiel complete it and destroy any hopes Dean had for a family? Will Dean forgive Cas’ horrific purpose before it is too late? And give them both what they really want — the love of a righteous man.

SKID by spnsmile

Dean Winchester swore off love after getting dumped and fired from his job the same day. Badly drunk, he ended up balcony-hopping until a pair of hands snatched him inside a darkened room. But it's no hero, it's someone with deep voice whispering threats with a gun pointed at his back. Dean’s too drunk to deal with life but one good look at his hot assailant plus enough beer sold him to his accursed fate. The next morning, he found himself engaged to the most notorious leader of a powerful clan, Castiel Novak.

Married life in the compound for a month was not as blissful so when he could, Dean fought for that freedom. Castiel relented and as Dean tried to put the pieces of his normal life together, getting a bike messenger job and dealing with pain in the ass clients, he now also needs to deal with the dangerous presence of his very jealous and very protective husband watching over him.

Is his life ever going to get back to normal?