#And maybe Childe making out with an aeon

[f-abulas]

:honey and flames:

(warning: mentions of war, cosmic horror, body horror? and…horny? A peak into Yaoshi’s kiss and what brought Childe to be blood thirsty)

Darkness.

warmth.

cold…

wet…

It hurt to breathe. Everything in him screams in agony, making the foxing ears twitch from the noise. He’d been thrown in here, after all he’d done to protect…protect him. The face of his lover, the dragon with those far and distant golden eyes. The one who’d revealed his name to a lowly Foxian like himself. Ajax groans, trying to pull himself up but it hurt. He was dying…

Dying.

The bastard preceptors had found their out. Found a way to ‘save’ their precious High Elder. For the great and mighty Morax must remain pure of the simful, nasty temptations of this world, not corrupted by the Schneznian whore such as himself. Oh how Ajax laughed, broken as it was in his injured chest. The preceptors thinking he the degenerate, not knowing this ‘whore’ had only ever got on his knees for their High Elder. Been left a crying mess from said dragons tongue and mouth…

But he was a fool to have been careless. Being tricked into a blatant ambush, surrounded by beasts of abundance. Again…and again, gold ichor spilling, tinged with red from the open wounds now draining his life away. His tail, the one the high elder loved to pet -nuzzle, kiss- was broken sending needles of pain up his spine.

They had jumped him after he’d fallen to his knees, before tossing him into the arbors abyss. The cowards not wanting to finish the job themselves, they were going to let him rot in this dark… cold…wet place. Heart pounding…consumed by hurt, rage, hate- love- revenge… so badly he wanted to tear his fucking fingers into their chests and rip out their black hearts! Ajax was slipping fast but above revenge, and rage, Ajax and his slowly stopping heart desperately craved—-wanted - Hoped—-Hoped. To see golden eyes, and feel those arms hold him one last time.

One last kiss…

“m…mor ….ax” his voice was broken.

His dragon had said ‘I’ll save you’ and to call his name, but as he did …nothing. Nothing. He was…alone—

“Sweet…little fox…”

His ears twitch, a voice. Soft. Two voices… no …six? Lapping over each other as the echoed around him. That voice compelled his soul. With ever ounce of strength he pushed himself up enough to look and see— Blue eyes hazy but aware, he could see such odd…beauty in a way. The scents hit him first, honey and trees…grass…fresh fruit that was ripe for the taking. It made his mouth water, why he knew not. The image…the voice. The being that spoke…three hands, on each side white as porcelain. Small ‘eyes’ of red embedded in the slits of its arms. Clothes in yellow and veiled, their long hair of gold silk cascaded down gracefully. They perched on the roots of the land, mist surrounding them and a ting of gold.

“Merc…iful…one?”

“Poor little fox.” They smiled so sweetly, nodding. “Come here…sweet little fox, let me hold you?” reaching one of their many hands out towards him. Long, slender fingers made a beckoning gesture. His body lifted, as if by invisible strings. Bringing his broken body forward to them, and in an instant he was… engulfed by the arms. Not soft as a woman, not firm like a man. He didn’t… couldn’t describe this feeling. When those arms wrapped around him, caressing his ripped flesh… Closing the wounds, with those sharpened nails. It was like energy, vibrating through his being with their closeness. The scent and taste of starlight was palpable. It dulled all pain from his mind, like a drug or sweet wine. The merciful one traces a finger along his ears, then cheek. “So bloody….so angry. Shall I give you a sweet, sweet blessing my little Foxian?” They leaned closer, he shivered as those lips brushed his cheek.

A feeling of guilt at his body’s reaction to the touch twisted his gut, only ever used to Morax drawing this feeling …a reaction from him. But in the arms of the Aron Ajax felt elated, he felt as if he was getting drunk off their presence alone. He was feeling…hot…hot…Ajax mumbles an affirmation, so enthralled by their voice. Mind blank and open for their commands...his arms gained strength, the poison he’d been slipped by the preceptors gone. ‘Yes’ he thought, ‘I’d gladly take your blessing.’

They smiled against his cheek, red eyes from those many arms all turning to him. Then in an instant, the merciful one placed their lips on his and in an instant they poured sweet…sweet nectar down his throat. Overwhelmed he struggled to drink it all, accepting the dominating kiss. Power…strength…Abundance filled his body, and a whimper left his throat.

He drank….drank

sweet honey at first, he greedily accepted it as that sweetness mended his organs and snapped broken bones back into place. Closed wounds, and filled..filled…

and then that nektar soon became venom. Claws, deadly hook into his heart and he begins to scream… but still the merciful one is now the plague author. Deadly hunger, filling his mind and a lust that pumps into his heart making it pound…images of faces, the Preceptors…the Mara struck, those who tried to kill him, those who opposed Yaoshi…. It feels like fire is now consuming his body and he burns, thrashing in that iron hold. Screams filling his mind, ringing in his ears, death…and bringing them back.

Again and Again and Again!

Finally His screams echo through the space, the flames consumed him entirely. Reap for Sanctus Medicus. Reap…reap…reap!

With Yaoshi’s intervention and blessing he gained a new form, equal to a Mara struck drone but twice as tall. Strength and muscle given, his cells are now twice as fast in regeneration. His magic is heightened but ohhh he craves to fight. Make those screams of the betrayers a reality and in a burst of light, and Yaoushi laughing in delight as their newly blessed Foxian broke free they watch as he slays those ignorant. Pathetic. Useless fools. Staining Lan’s own soil… how fun how fun~

It was a blessing. It was a curse. It brought him life but now he craves the thrill of battle, hungry and hungry for more. But as he stands among the dead, their blood pools around his feet he knows…That he can never come back here again.

[4acoffee]

continuation here

-

thinking about.

being Jing Yuan's first and only lover back when he was training under Jingliu.

say you come from a family where the eldest child is always blessed with the power of an aeon or something, but in your case your constitution is a little weaker or they in some sort of sick experiment gave you more power than what your body can handle and it leaves you sick every time you use your powers.

but say you study in the alchemy commission and slowly train your abilities. maybe you worked as a nurse or assistant just trying to figure yourself out, and one day the apprentice of the fuckin Sword Champion of the Loufu ends up in your care and he's so sweet and handsome with his honey eyes and boyish smile and he makes you laugh, but you send him off that day and think that's that.

but all of a sudden you find that he is finding every excuse to be able to see you and it's so obvious he has a little crush but he's just so cute that you can't help but fall so easily for him too

you bandage his hands after training and kiss his bruises better when he pouts and he brings you the prettiest jewelry from off world missions with his master and carves your initials together somewhere on the training ground with his favorite sword.

you make out in the dark alleys of the alchemy commission and explore what it is like to love and to care for someone in a way neither of you have experienced before and it's clear to everyone how smitten you both are with each other

then something comes up and you have to leave the loufu for your home planet and when you are saying goodbye, he is not just upset, he is bitter, a little resentful because he never even thought about leaving your side, and he never considered that it may be different for you

you don't want to leave him, but you have to because you have responsibilities on your own planet and maybe you never planned to stay on the loufu forever in the first place

jing yuan grows and more people leave him, but he stays, and the pain never goes away, but it grows duller with him.

you grow as well and you are weighed down by the responsibilities of your family and you realize that your beloved aeon is not what you thought and you and your most trusted friends leave to find a way to free your people.

you turn to the loufu for help because you know that he is the general now and you hope that even if he hates you, you trust that he will be kind enough to save your people.

just imagine you request to have an audience with him and he is shocked to see you back, standing before him in the seat of divine foresight with the conviction of a leader in your eyes, as if you didn't tear his heart out of his foolish chest centuries ago and squeeze it rotten and dry in your deceiving hands.

but he plays along, brings your group to a meeting room and you are there pleading your case.

.

"If you remember, my body did not well receive the blessing of our aeon as it has previously in my family.

"I remember, I was very well acquainted with your body, if you recall."

He preens shamelessly, in front of everyone.

[grimm-writings]

don’t you repeat that!

…ft! boothill x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, but gets kind of sad at the end there, established relationship, inspired by boothill leaks, cursing

…wc! 394

…notes! trying to scavenge back some writing motivation so a tiny lil bootsy drabble while i manifest for him LMAO. speedrunning penacony quests rn i must see the cowboy by any means necessary…

Your boyfriend knows some colourful language.

How he comes up with such a unique string of curses and insults confounds you.  Even now you can hear the unfortunate sound of him stubbing his toe, the loud hiss as he draws in breath and…

“Fucking dumb shit riding on horseback in the middle of the God damn night!”

There it is.

“Language,” you call out.  You look down at the little girl sitting on your lap and shake your head at her, as if to communicate to her how irresponsible her old man is being, especially when she’s nearby.

Finally, your boyfriend’s head peeks out from behind the doorway, as if about to retort that his poor toe has been painfully attacked by the edge of a table.  Instead, he sees you, crossing your little girl’s arms disappointingly at his action.

He sighs and strides forward, dramatically overselling a limp, before crouching into a squat.  He points at the little baby with a pout.  “Don’t you go repeating what I say.  Or else this one here’ll never forgive me.”

A toothy grin is shot your way and you can’t help but scoff.  “She can only babble so far.  Though, under your wing?  I wouldn’t be surprised if her first words happen to be a curse at an Aeon.”

“I’d be quite proud if that was the case,” he returns, picking up the baby from your lap.  You let him.  Despite his foul mouth, your partner has proven himself very capable of handling a newborn child.  From the very day he entered your shared home with her in his arms, you knew she carved something new and special out of the cowboy you lived with.

Almost made you feel like a real family.

“Let’s get you to sleep, eh?”  He speaks to her as if she can understand full length sentences.  “Can’t have you driftin’ off when I’m trying t’ introduce you to our steeds, princess.”

For a second, you really considered asking then and there.  Seeing how the little girl reaches up and tries to brush dark hair away from your boyfriend’s eye makes your heart melt.  This could be your future.  Your forever.  A family with your favourite people.

Though, as you watch him, maybe you’ll wait.

Or, maybe, you won’t even get that opportunity at all.

It’s not like Boothill ever knew anyway.

[lookforsomeoneelse]

sahsrau and the ways in which the game’s story changes pt. 1: Sigonia-IV

aventurine’s story made me sad. maybe this is my way of coping. got aventurine’s sister’s name from someone who talked about her on this app. also i’m making a lot of assumptions about how it went down, but there were roughly 10,000 avgins that were involved. also apparently the avgins are based on romani culture and I have no idea about that either soooooooooo cw for blood and severed limbs. and maybe gore. and definitely mentions of death. and probably my ignorance too.

Ecclesiastes 4:1-3

Again I looked and saw all the oppression that was taking place under the sun: I saw the tears of the oppressed-- and they have no comforter; power was on the side of their oppressors-- and they have no comforter. And I declared that the dead, who had already died, are happier than the living, who are still alive. But better than both is he who has not yet been, who has not seen the evil that is done under the sun.

Kezia knew she was going to die. It wasn’t the greatest way to go down at the hands of the bloodthirsty Katicans, but what was honorable about it was that she would meet her end in the rain.

“Kakavasha must have escaped by now,” she thought to herself, “and he will survive.” Kezia held faith in her brother and in the Mother Goddess, Gaiathra Triclops, the one whom she served.

It was now time for the festival- and so she tossed her Knot into the bonfire as a sort of goodbye to this cruel life she had lived in, and lamented on her brother’s fate- he will go through many hardships and sufferings, but she knows that the blessing of Fenge Biyos will remain with him all throughout his journey.

It was a shame she’ll never get to see him again.

She regrets not saying more before their departure.

She had heard that some of the other bastard clans had made a deal with the Interastral Peace Corporation- the people who had promised to protect them on this very day- to make sure that they were all wiped out.

She held her makeshift club in her shaky hands. She didn’t want to die. Not like this. She had wanted to get married and have a family of her own.

And, for the first time in her life, her faith cracked like a shattered mirror.

The Mother Goddess had always let her down-

When Dad fell into the quicksand,

When Mother was caught and slaughtered like an animal,

And now, while she was facing down death.

She remembers one of the workers that came during that first day- praising the Aeon of Guidance and all their works-

And so, under her breath, unsure of how to do it, she prayed for her safety, she prayed for her survival, and most of all, she prayed for the opportunity to see her dearest brother once again.

As the sky wept for the fate of her people, the Katicans arrived, howling laughter emerging from within the storm.

do not worry child

Finding the sudden strength within her, she let out a roar.

i shall be forever with you

Her club slammed into the skull of a Katican, pulverizing it into a bloody mess.

i shall give you strength

Another near her tried to avenge his fallen comrade, and she cratered their face, producing a sickening squelch.

and when you are trapped in the darkness

She didn’t count. How many had fallen at her hands? 100? 500? 1,000? 5,000? All she knew was that the sky wept blood.

i shall bring you into the light

All around her there were the corpses of Katicans, Not a drop of her blood was shed, and nothing to threaten her in her vicinity. She looked down at her hands. Red. Her hands were red, stained with the crimson of those who had tried to end her life.

Kezia wept tears of joy.

“The Avgin always return back their blood debts,” she had remembered saying to her little brother.

It looks like they had a new debt to pay.

(A/N: I have no idea what the hell I just made. I have no beta reader, so there’s that I guess. I don’t have a structure either. I just made stuff up and used the wiki for reference.)

[hana-no-seiiki]

Can you write something about yaoshi?thou their design is very pretty (⁠●⁠’⁠3⁠)⁠♡⁠(⁠ε⁠`⁠●⁠)

Let's say we're their fav human/god

I hope this makes sense

We don’t know much about the Aeons yet, so don’t expect this to be an accurate representation of what Yaoshi acts like. I’ll give ya two versions (human and aeon reader).

(YANDERE?) YAOSHI x READER (ft. Other Aeons)

warnings: ddne, mind break, power imbalance, massive age gap & infantilization(for the human section), yandere themes in general, somnophillia.

note: from what i read in yaoshi’s lore what i wrote feels like something the canon character would do hence the question mark

status: unedited

STORY ONE : TO LIVE IN ABUNDANCE | Doctor ! Reader

I.

Yaoshi could not fathom why one would not wish for eternal life. Life was the most beautiful thing in existence. Wondrous, with a diversity one could not begin to imagine. Yet, there exists people who desire for existence to come to a halt, many who wish for their teachings and gifts to end.

You were one of those people.

Despite your occupation as a doctor, you believed that every patient had a right to choose their destiny. Whether it be to continue fighting for their lives or to die peacefully in their death beds, who were you to decide what happens to them? You were only the nurturer and provider. Even the best doctor in their field has to let go of a patient when it came down to it. For life is only beautiful, meaningful when it has to diminish one day.

And in spite of your beliefs, Yaoshi decided to bless you to join him in his path.

Your world was shaken.

Why were you of all people chosen by this Aeon?

Sure, you were fully dedicated to career. But if anything, your views were more aligned to the Archer Lord of Fate. You have had many Mara strucken, the victims of Yaoshi’s ‘gifts’, pass away before your very eyes. Beasts who have long lost their minds and ability to choose what future they’ll follow. If you had a choice, without a heartbeat

Several millenia pass with you never aging. Generals that ruled come and go.

And now, because of their so-called kindness, you were banished from Xianzhou. Your home. Thrusted into the embrace of space and void,

and none other than the Aeon that doomed you.

“Child. You have come home at last.”

II.

If you were born into a different culture, perhaps a planet that worshipped the Aeon before you, maybe then you would be elated with your current happenstance.

But this was not the case unfortunately.

You spend around a decade filled with hatred and anger. Hurling the most venomous words and even attempting to harm their being. Of course, none of your actions do anything to help your situation.

A century was spent trying to convince them to let you go, to rescind their blessing and leave you to live your life as a mortal.

They refused, stating that it would saddened them to lose you.

It gets close to another century with how long you spent in tears. For the loss of your loved ones that had left you to go to the afterlife. For the situation you were forced into. As you cried and cried, all Yaoshi could do was embrace you using their many arms. It was a peculiar feeling at first but unfortunately became comforting soon enough.

And after all that you finally gave in.

Yaoshi did not seem surprised at all. In fact what awaited your complete acceptance was a gentle smile. One akin to a parent seeing their child come back home after running away in a fit.

“We can finally begin the preparations.”

“For what?” Your voice, hoarse and abused by your depressed barely came out.

“For our wedding.”

iii.

You were used to their multi-armed touches, their inhuman way of showing affection towards you. But nothing could prepare you for the consummation.

You don’t remember anything. Throughout the whole process you were extremely disassociated to the point of being catatonic.

This, this was your life now. Stuck to a god as a human who has far outlived their expiration date. Slowly yet surely your mind corroded.

And even as your body was littered with the golden allure of ginkgo leaves, your freedom never came.

Yaoshi did end up releasing you from their grasp to roam the cosmos freely. People from all over the universe called you the Golden Wanderer, or the Sanctus Medicus Saint.

But what was the point?

Even with your endless fame and immortality. You were a dead man walking.

Waiting, hoping, that one day someone would grant you mercy a god of life and everything beautiful in it could not.

STORY TWO : TO DIE IN THE LIGHT | AEON OF DREAMS - IMAGINARY ELEMENT ! READER

i.

In the time humanity and civilizations began to rise. You were created within the womb of the universe representing a concept. Dreams. Though you most presided over preferable ones, you were known to give unending nightmares to those that slighted you and your domain.

In the grand scheme of Aeons, you were neutral. Never straying from the unbiased perspective of a god. Those that worshipped and favored you get rewarded, those that dirtied your name were punished.

For that you were often looked down upon by your fellow gods, seen as indecisive with your head literally and figuratively stuck in the clouds.

Yaoshi used to be one of them. They had a difficult time understanding how one could live without ever peeling their eyes to the grandiose aesthetics of the world.

They soon began to fall in love with your fair — beautiful and impartial — self.

And if those mara-struck beings were anything to go off of . . .

Their infatuation spelt your doom.

ii.

There you were. Your form shone brilliantly under the light of the moons and stars that seemed to dangle above you.

Even a god snored, and snored you did. But to Yaoshi this hoarse sound was music. No, even more than that.

It was a reminder that throughout the eons, you two are alive. Together. Breathing.

Yaoshi visited your slumbering body frequently to the point that it became a risk. That Lan would sometimes stand guard over you in case they would come, or have the Xianzhou oversee your vicinity. Not many mortals can hold up against the Aeon however, and if it meant having to go against their path in order to see you — the choice was obvious.

Their stays mostly consisted of performing lullabies and poetry of how both your and their followers adored your seemingly romantic partnership, to your blissfully unaware body.

At least that’s what they thought.

iii.

Contrary to popular belief, your most devoted of followers do not eternally sleep. Nor do the majority spend a lot of their sleeping. In order to spread your name, a lot chose to stay awake. Because if there was anything your true followers loved more than a good nap it was you.

As such, not known to many people or gods, you had a vast network of knowledge. A lot of what people learn and experience appear in dreams, and once the more fantastical ones were taken off the list, you were left with a near infinite amount of information.

Humans have also mastered a way of communion with you.

Case in point, you had long known about Yaoshi’s visits. You were the one that asked Lan to aid you. Breaking your self imposed rule of impartiality.

But all is for naught.

Misinformation had spread far too wide and the delusions Yaoshi infected the world with overpowered your truth.

Their acquisition of you was as tranquil and hurdle free as it could be.

While you were caged by Yaoshi, another Aeon swore to bring you back.

Ending life and therefore your deeply unconscious state. A state which they saw as involuntary. A cage infinitely worse than the Aeon of Harmony kept you in.

And the first Stellaron was born.

a/n: i imagine human reader, especially post yaoshi adoption, to be like a lifesteal-tank sort of abundance character. only ever healing(mostly themself) if they attack/hurt the enemy, which would go against what yaoshi wants. i might draw a design for them actually. the type that if you build well, won’t ever die. but any battle with them would take a really long time since their damage is pp in comparison to other characters at the very least.

[link to the design/drawing here if i ever finish it]

[here’s a link to another aeon related fic]

i wanted to include both versions here before i uploaded this even if the first one is so long cause i just know im never gonna write a part two if ever lol. and yes, the aeon in the last bit is nanook.

want more hsr fics/have an idea for one? send me an ask or submission ❤️

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

[deathbxnny]

HI BXNNY MY LOVEEEE

hehe I'm here another time with a platonic pairing~

Once again with a fem, little sister child! reader but this time it's not a specific scenario like my recent request for Aventurine, just headcanons with Argenti (never seen you write for my man? Idk if you write him, feel free to ignore him or add another character if you don't ♡) Jing Yuan and Dr. Ratio?

TAKE CARE OF URSELFF💕💐🌻

Hey there, dear moot!! This is such a cute idea, and I'd LOVE to write for Argenti, so thank you for including him!!<3

Content: Reader is a child, fluff, unserious, big brother characters, platonic relationships, slight angst, sfw

Reader is afab here!!

((Not proofread))

》ARGENTI

Argenti saw you as a blessing from Idrila, something he was very vocal about to everyone and especially his little sister. He spoils you greatly and has an inability to say no to you. However, he often still wonders if it is right to bring you along on his journey through the cosmos in search of his lost Aeon. He knows it's dangerous and most likely could cause his death one day... but he still can't find himself leaving you behind.

Since he is such a strict believer of Idrila, you ofcourse begin to mimic his devotion in your behavior, something that means way more than words could describe to him. His heart swells with pride when he sees you recite the prayers and praises or dress the way he does. It makes his worries and doubts melt away.

With that said, you truly have him wrapped around your little fingers, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

》DR. VERITAS RATIO

His expectations for you were high and perhaps even stressful at times. He wanted you to be the best, to exceed him in ways not even he ever could. Ratio believed that what he was doing was for your own good, for your own perfect future... which, however, unfortunately meant that he often times forgot that you were still simply a child. This, in turn, just means that he'll self-reflect often and try and give you more breaks in-between classes and studying whenever you need them.

With that said, he is a busy professor and scholar, which often leads him to not be home as much as you want him to. He tries his best to find some time to spend with you however when he is home, although that's usually spent either reading books or listening to long lectures from him. He thinks that that is great bonding time for the both of you.

Ratio may not be very vocal or open about his love for his little sister, but it's obvious with how much he cares for your well-being and future, even when he can come off as mean or harsh at times. He wants you to have a good life without him one day and will make sure you're prepared for it.

》JING YUAN

Jing Yuan adores you greatly and doesn't shy away from spoiling you with anything you want. He often gets accused of perhaps spoiling you even a little too much from Fu Xuan, but he simply waves it off with no concern. You deserve way more than he can offer you, after all.

With that said, Yanqing is indeed your designated babysitter, much to the boy's annoyance at times. On one hand, it's because Jing Yuan trusts him way more than anyone else with you... and on the other, he knows that the blonde will learn to behave himself and slow down better with you around. Or so he thinks, at first. Once you're old enough to become best of friends with him, the days of your mischievous pranks on the general start, mainly out of spite.

Jing Yuan finds it cute and amusing until he's dowsed in water as you both run away laughing hysterically. Maybe Fu Xuan was right...

Alrightttt... I hope this was okay, dear moot!! Thank you again for the request!!<33

[starcurtain]

Interpreting Aventurine's Situation

(HSR 2.1 spoilers, watch out!) I think one of my favorite things to come out of Penacony is that the plot has left us with two completely opposite but equally valid interpretations of Aventurine's character. Is he a chosen child or just a "lucky" dog? The story leaves the door wide open for both possibilities.

Under a read more for space:

One Interpretation: Unfortunately for Him, Aventurine is Actually Blessed by an Aeon

If you work from the assumption that the Avgin mythology is correct, and Gaiathra Triclops is actually real (possibly a minor aeon of an unknown path or Ena, if you're on that train), then it's entirely possible, in game, that Aventurine has been blessed by a goddess to the point that he functionally cannot lose any gamble he makes. The odds are, literally, ever in his favor. In this interpretation, it doesn't matter how many gambles he takes with his life as the chip because he will always succeed. Despite how risky his behavior looks to everyone else, he's actually been perfectly safe all along.

But this is especially tragic because it means that, despite his mother's and sister's belief that his blessing will help everyone in their tribe, Aventurine's blessing has only ever extended to himself. He's not an omen of good fortune for his people. His luck was never going to protect his parents, sister, or friends. The goddess of the Avgin chose just one person and left the rest of her people to die.

This is where Aventurine's doubts stem from. He asks repeatedly: If the goddess can bless people, then why is life so miserable for the Avgin? Why do they have to live in pain, suffering, fear, and abject poverty if she could make them lucky enough to thrive? Why do people live if it's just going to be horrible?

(To be honest, I don't think this is out of line for the behavior we've seen of aeons so far. Even with aeons like Yaoshi, described as gentle and benevolent, with no intention to cause harm, their gifts often create horror in the human world.)

Aventurine's hands still tremble when he bets. He doesn't really believe he's blessed and still expects his own downfall at every turn--but it's never going to come because he is one of the few human beings in the entire universe with the direct favor of an aeon. Even Ratio, a skeptical, evidence-based genius, seems to think this might be the case.

(Choosing the Chinese because the text is a little clearer than the English, but basically: "This guy always has a way of dragging himself up out of the abyss, which can't be explained by just 'good luck.' Everyone is waiting to see him fail... Maybe even he's waiting too. But as time passed, I couldn't help but wonder: Will that day really come?")

This means Aventurine has lived a life of fear and uncertainty for nothing. He's spent his entire life awaiting a failure and painful death that will never come. He can't recognize the love of his own goddess nor trust in the faith of his own family.

The central question of this interpretation becomes "What does it mean for a single human to be favored by an aeon?" Can Aventurine really be called lucky after losing every single thing that has meaning in his life--all because an aeon chose him and only him? Should that be called a blessing or a curse?

The Opposite Interpretation: Aventurine Isn't Lucky At All, He's Just Skilled

On the other hand, the story leaves the door open to interpret Aventurine's situation in the complete opposite manner too. If, as the IPC seems to think, Gaiathra Triclops isn't real and Aventurine isn't blessed at all, then that means every single risk Aventurine has taken has actually been life-threatening--and that every single achievement he's reached has been by his own merits alone.

If Gaiathra's blessing isn't real, then Aventurine's life becomes one long self-run psyop: Everyone tells him he's blessed, he's lucky, he's favored--so young Kakavasha starts gambling early. Banking on this idea that he's favored, that he's chosen, he starts paying attention, he learns the tricks of the trade, figures out how to slip cards up his sleeves, how to word things just right so people will take his bait--he practices, practices, practices, until he can spot winning odds a mile away, until he can predict every possible outcome, until he's seen it all before.

In this situation, every single gamble he's ever made or will make carries a very, very real risk of failure--but Aventurine continues to succeed because he's just that quick-witted, just that aware, just that good at reading people. (He's been doing it for so much longer than everyone else he meets, after all.) He is the gambler extraordinaire, the archetypal charming rogue who can squirm his way out of any tight spot he gets into, time and time again.

He fears every gamble he makes because he has good reason to--there's literally never any guarantee that he will succeed, and he's constantly just flipping a coin to see what outcome he'll get. His personal skill and quick wit continue to turn things in his favor, but it's inevitable that one day he'll meet a situation that outwits him, a gamble where only a supernatural force could have saved him. And if you take this second interpretation, Gaiathra isn't real, so there won't be one.

This story choice would be interesting because it implies a greater degree of responsibility for everything that happens. If it's Aventurine's own quick wit and skill that continually save him, shouldn't he be able to help others with that skill? Shouldn't he have been able to help himself? How was he able to save himself from death but not from slavery? If it was skill, not luck, all along, then who do you blame for all the misery he still experienced?

This interpretation leads to greater questions of self-doubt and anxiety: Is it actual skill or just sheer dumb luck? Does Aventurine have what it takes mentally, psychologically, emotionally, and even physically to always come out on top by his own merits, or is he just the benefit of the wheel of fortune--statistically speaking, a one in a million chance still has to come through for that one, right? And when it all comes crumbling down eventually, will he have only himself to blame?

A Life of Uncertainty

The story doesn't actually give us any firm indication whether Gaiathra is real or not, or--even if she is real--if Aventurine is actually genuinely blessed. We just don't know, as players.

And Aventurine doesn't know either.

His faith in the goddess of the Avgin is shaky. He seems to want to believe and hold on to his people's mythology, but he has valid doubts that a goddess would choose to bless one person while leaving everyone else to suffer.

Is he the chosen of an aeon? And if he isn't chosen, then what meaning does any of it have? Is he just unbelievably skilled? Has he merely been lucky up to now? When will this blessing or luck or skill finally fail him?

Aventurine's most defining character trait is the extreme uncertainty that has plagued his whole life. What is true? What should he believe? Is he blessed or cursed? Does he have the talent to back up his massive boasts? Should others put any faith in him--should he put any faith in himself? Should he cling to his people's beliefs or reject the goddess that left him the sole survivor of a cultural extinction?

He can't trust anything. He can't trust his family's faith; he can't trust that he's actually a "chosen one" (because how could he chosen and his family be left to die?). He can't even trust that he's lucky because maybe it was just the years of suffering practice he put in. Then again, he can't trust in his own skill because maybe he's just blessed?

Which is it? Which is it? Which is it?

Nothing is certain. Nothing can be taken for granted. Nothing can be proven empirically true or false. There are no guarantees for Aventurine.

Every single thing in his life is a gamble, and none of that is his fault.

What an amazing character. What a great story. Thank you for the treat, Hoyo!

[khuzena]

Your Guardian Angel

Sunday x g/n!reader

Summary: oh guardian angel, my sweet guardian angel. Save me, Save me. If you can't, what're you truly for? When your angel loves you, when he betrays destiny for you; only for his wings to be chipped at the expense of a helpless attempt.

Cw. Very angsty, falling in love (but it's forbidden), religious references (specifically Christian topics) AU where ppl can talk to their angels lol, mentions of self harm but no actual scene with it!!!, no bandaid can fix the emotional wound after reading this. SOME fluff, no comfort like usual. 🫨🫨🫨 YOU DIE!

A/n: I'm on fire (like literally. It's 36° here.)

Your knees burn as you stare up at the altar displayed in front you, you wonder if the aeons would be kind enough to finally send you your guardian angel.

“Please,” you begged, wishing any god to heed your call, “Just this once I'll ask.”

“Send me someone kind, someone to protect me.”

That day, fate was generous enough to grant you your angel.

A chill ran down your spine, rubbing your eyes for good measure to make sure you weren't dreaming.

“You called?”

You gulp nervously, the being's halo blinding you.

One, he reached his hand out to you, his smile all you needed to feel okay.

Your guardian angel accompanies you whenever you go out to buy groceries, when your fingers trace along the unhealthy snack bar, he's quick to tut and swat your hand away.

“That's unhealthy, dear.”

“But—”

“Just this once?”

He shook his head no, feeling distraught, you devised a plan to grab a pack of double chocolate cookies; much to his dismay.

Who did you think you were fooling?

“Dear, I said no.”

You sighed, “Just one?”

Out of all the humans on the list, why'd he pick you? But when you smile at him so brightly, out of every human he's ever guided, he's still unsure of his answer—

Your shoulders slump, “Pretty please?”

He exhales an exasperated sigh, letting you win over him just this once.

“Fine.”

— Maybe he is, Maybe he isn't.

There were times nightmares were unkind and brutal that you'd wake up in cold sweat. Your mind flashing you memories of the past you wished to lock away, you'd pray again.

“Dear, wake up,” that familiar soothing voice ringing in your ears.

Where? The shackles of that dream still bruise you harshly, yet your loving guardian angel is there to soothe your scars.

“It's okay.”

It's not okay, you know.

No words were exchanged when he took your hand in his, his honey eyes seeing through you, “Just breathe.”

Your tears found solace in his shoulder as he patted your back, letting you cry it all out, “It hurts, Sunday.”

“I know,” his gloved hand wiping your tears gently, “I know.”

Like a child, for many dreadful nightmares to come, you cry and cry for him to relieve you of this pain. You needn't to get on your knees and ask the aeons for comfort. All you need to do is shed a single tear and he'll kiss them away.

Two, your oh so sweet guardian angel, he drives them all away.

Years pass and you've grown used to your guardian angel, you'd find him taking the form of an owl.

Like one time, you were in class— culinary class to be specific. Who knows what aeon decided to ruin your day and made you trip on a puddle of leftover batter on the tiled floor.

“Eek—!”

You'd think you'd hit head first but something held you up, when you turned around, there was no one there.

The owl perched on the branch just outside the window, shook its head in dismay, once again, you don't die today.

He may save you from all catastrophes but he cannot save you from impending doom.

As an angel, by all means, he has every right to read your destiny; woven by lord Xipe, of course.

Eyes narrowing at the scroll, your life ends early when you get roped into an unforeseen accident at a public event.

“Sunday, dear. 5 days until your host departs,” his beloved lord's voice echoing the room as they loom over his shoulder to watch your end unfold.

“We should find you a new human.”

Sunday trembled at the sight, a memory he wishes to never replay again. You were in an event and some drunkard decides to shoot it all up, bullets ablaze as you get caught in the crossfire.

“I…”

I mustn't disobey lord Xipe.

“Yes, lord Xipe,” he gave a weak smile to his god, your death still replaying.

How could he be fine?

When you tell him of your dreams, how you'd leave this wretched city, leave penacony and write your own fate; when destiny had already set yours in stone.

“Do you think I'll become big in the industry?”

The sunset falls upon you too and he doesn't have it in him to tell you what's bound to happen to you, “Yes.”

“You sound hesitant.”

“I'm just thinking.”

It wasn't often you see Sunday like… this.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “It's nothing.”

You two have been together long enough that it only takes you a second to realise the shift in the atmosphere, “Whatever, I'm going to be successful and we'll travel.”

He wonders if you noticed the way his wings are stiffening at your words, he may be an angel, “Sure,” but he is a liar first.

He doesn't want to think about it, he doesn't want to remember.

Your curious eyes never leave him, he wishes it did. He wishes he never got too attached.

That disgustingly sweet smile of yours, you'll never know that it made home in his head.

“Here,” he wore the rosary in your hand, it felt comforting feeling his gloved hand against your skin, “What is this for?”

He still doesn't have the courage to look you in the eye knowing 3 days from now they'd be devoid of light, “For protection, to show devotion to our god.”

You let out a hum of approval, admiring the beads.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes”

“I'm glad.”

Fleeting moments like these don't last. But when he musters up the courage to look you in the eyes again; he wishes that Lord Xipe was loving enough that this moment would.

Destiny is a strange thing. It gives you time to dream but never enough time to do.

Just where the hell were you?

Sunday panics as he flies over the crowd, exactly a minute before your death.

Lord Xipe must be cruel, watching from the stars as he scurries in the mortal realm like a rat to save a mere mortal like you.

“Sunday?”

‘Bang.’

You hear gunshots piercing the skies and those beside you.

“What's happening—”

“Just shut up,” angels were not allowed to be this crude but for your sake, he covered your eyes as he led the two of you behind a pillar.

Your gut instinct tells you to run but you've grown to trust him enough with your life. How could you not when he gently wraps his arms around your trembling figure?

“S-sun… day…,” you cried, feeling something piercing your stomach.

But how? He… he saved you didn't he?

“Stay calm,” he scolds you as if he wasn't scrambling around his options on how to save you, “Please.”

He prays, “Lord Xipe, please.”

But songs stay unsung, prayers remain unheard.

He cries to the sky as crimson stains his gloves, his holy tears cannot patch your wounds. His prayers cannot fix you. If he had known, he would not have sung those odes to lord Xipe, if only he had known his god's mercy was nothing but just strings of fallacies.

“Lord Xipe!”

An agonising scream that transcends the barrier of heaven and earth, yet his beloved god turned their back on him.

Your eyes shut then he felt the hand that intertwined with him go limp, “Lord Xipe.”

In desperate sobs, “Please.”

No amount of begging would bring you back, just like his sister, Robin, you are dead, you are gone.

Not being able to save you— he's betrayed you.

He kissed your cheek before letting death take you.

My God, why have you forsaken me?

He has no time to mourn, “It burns,” under the scrutinising gaze of the divine, his wings turn charcoal black.

Lord Xipe is all forgiving yet they have abandoned him for something so little.

A god so forgiving, yet when Sunday looks down at his hands, only a shade of balsam and black stare back at him.

There is no redemption for his sin, there is no redemption for either of you.

You can no longer dream, he can no longer dream with you.

His halo crumbles into ash and an undeniably painful grief fills him, “Lord xipe.”

His radiant halo no more, only to be replaced by the glow of the sunset like a crown of thorns.

He cries again, his god is gone and you are too.

Note: forgive me if its kinda shit, i really can't think of an angst idea for sunday that isn't yandere since im not rlly big about yan tropes anddd not proofread. I hope y'all enjoyed it tho, i just needed to get this idea out of my brain. Sunday is vv manipulative but i js wanted to write a ver of him thats just gentle ISTFGGGGGG

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[green-tea-in-absinthe-bottle]

NEVER GONNA DANCE AGAIN (oneshot)

Aventurine x ex girlfriend!reader

He would gamble his own life before ever risking your relationship but his dangerous job forced him to give you up, shattering both of your hearts in the process. Months later Sigonian notices you on one of the boujee parties he got invited to as an IPC representative. Motivated by yearning and alcohol in his veins Aventurine tries his luck in love again. ANGST,SUGGESTIVE

general masterlist

Aventurine was always a little bit fed up with those expensive parties thrown by his business partners, lavish ballroom filled with pathetic people living with no purpose besides endless consumption, each of them raised in conditions he could only dream of as a child, staring at him with curiosity. Hoping that he will make a mistake, prove them he is still a lowlife they take him for despite all those privileges he now enjoyed as a high ranking IPC member. But tonight he sincerely did not care about any of this, barely acknowledging the noise around him. 

He sipped on a drink more pricey than lifetime supply of food for his whole clan would be, giving out charming smiles that never reached his devoid of emotions, outstanding eyes to greedy leaches sitting alongside him at the poker table. Seemingly interested in shallow exchange of blows disguised as jokes and witty remarks young man looked around not expecting anything positive out of this meeting, maybe except meaningless material gains he forced himself to care about for the sake of keeping up his Aventurine persona.  

Then he noticed elegant woman standing alone near the entrance. Fingers adorned with precious rings clenched around the glass, almost shattering it in desperate attempt to conceal how much his hands started to shake at the sight of familiar face. He thought he imagined it at first, but his broken heart wasn't playing tricks on him. Aventurine would recognize your face even after centuries, every detail of it carved into his mind, into his soul. Long, green dress tightly hugged your figure, enhancing every curve he loved to caress so much. It was really you. Just as beautiful as the day he broke your heart, five months ago. The day he saw you for the last time. 

*** 

- Why are you doing this to me? To us? After all this time? - tears dripped down your cheeks, you were choking on your sobs. Aventurine wanted to hold you, make you feel like everything will be alright, but he knew what he needed to do to keep you safe. 

- Y/n, there is nothing to talk about, stop making this so hard. I never loved you in the first place, I just needed some distraction from my work. - he was always a great liar. You seemed to believe him and he thanked Aeons for it, despite how much it hurt him to see you in pain. It's the only way to make sure they won't touch you. - It was funny to play house with you for two years but that joke got old. You no longer entertain me.  

You looked into his eyes, begging for this to be a cruel prank, searching for any crumbs of love in his eyes, but they were cool and calculated. Speaking to him when he put on his poker face felt like talking to a wall. Despair slowly turned into hatred in you heart, it's fire kept you warm in spite of your ex boyfriend's cold attitude.  

- I hate you. I hate you so fucking much. I can't blame you for being a shameless liar, you told me that's who you are at the beginning. I should've trusted you when you showed me your true colors. I don't even want you to apologize, I played myself investing my love in you. Now get lost Vasha. - nickname once spoken tenderly now felt like a slap to Aventurine. How do you tell somebody in front of whom you bared your soul that they were only a toy to you?  

He spared you the rest of monologue he prepared and went outside with all his belongings packed in three suitcases. He glanced at the door of your shared place for the last time and whispered to himself. 

- In another universe I can be just your Kakavasha, kiss your face every morning after I wake up by your side and hold you every night, love you the way you deserve to be loved, make you proud of me. Protect you with my own strong arms and build our future with them. But Aventurine can't afford such luxury, not at your expense. Not if it can cost your life. 

***  

Just thinking about how he treated you made him want to punch himself in the face. He tried to reason with himself. Back then his position in Stonehearts was endangered after he risked his Cornerstone during the mission in Penacony.  If he lost all his power opponents he got during his work in IPC would go straight after you and he wouldn't be able to fight them off. Aventurine secured his rank and influences by now, as soon as he did that he got rid of enemies to make sure he will never feel this incapable of protecting those dear to him. Such as you. 

Aventurine knew he should not hope for rekindling of your love, not after all those terrible things he has said and done, but could you blame him? All his life nothing really belonged to him, nothing but your heart you so willingly gave to him. Even money he bargained with were only borrowed from IPC, just like his new name, dignity and life. Not to mention his whole new personality, attitude worn as a mask grew so deep into him it felt like a second face. Kakavasha was a different man, the kind that knew what was really important and what was not.  

One not impressed by money or political circus, instead wanting to protect and provide for those close to him, more down to earth and proud than Aventurine could ever be with all his wealth and victories. The one who stood in silence when the lights were gone, the one who observed emotionless when his fate was debated by the rest of the Stonehearts, the one who put his own body as a shield between his friends and dangers of battle.  

There was not much those two men caged together in one body had in common, with few exceptions. Both had iron will and ambition forged in hellfire they went through in this lifetime, both were aware that even with all the luck in the universe their destiny was inherently unjust and both knew they will love you till death returns Kakavasha's tired soul to his family and Gaiathra Triclops in afterlife.  

Alcohol circulated in his veins, clouding his mind and soothing his fears. He excused himself not caring about worried glances his coworkers sent him and rushed towards you on slightly wobbling legs, passing self-important gentlemen and overdressed ladies. Concentrated on getting to you as fast as possible he didn't plan on what to say so once your eyes crossed he just froze in place. At first your eyes widened in pure shock but right away hatred took over. Aventurine inhaled sharply when your brows furrowed and jaw clenched. He wasn't used to irritated glances from you, you were always so gentle with him. His mouth got dry. 

- Long time no see, dear. - your voice was more collected than you expected it to be. Sometimes you imagined meeting him again but even in your dreams you were never this calm and over him. So time truly does heal wounds. - I have no idea why do you think you can just approach me out of nowhere after what you did to me, but I won't let you waste any more of my time after you stole years of my life with your empty promises. So please, hurry up.  

- So cold, huh? - Aventurine awkwardly attempted to laugh his anxiety off. - I know I must come off as a complete jerk but please, listen to me. Back then... I... I don't know how to explain that. 

- Maybe for once just say the truth if you even know how to be sincere. - you scoffed. - Simply say it like it is.  

- I was one bad day away from losing my job and I needed to make sure you won't get hurt in the process.  

You raised one of your eyebrows.  

- So you can only love me when you are on the top of the world but as soon as problems emerge I am a burden to discard? - you rolled your eyes.  

- Don't say that... It's not like that. - he hid his left hand behind his back, toying with one of the poker chips he always carried around. - If they kicked me out all kinds of sick people who prayed for my downfall would go after me. None of them would miss the opportunity to hurt me even more by harming you.  

- If that's what you say... - you seemed unbothered.  

- What do you mean by that? - Avgin curved his lips in confusion. 

- How can I be sure you aren't lying? That wouldn't be the first time it seems. - you chuckled sadly.  

- Please don't use that against me, I had no choice... - before he had a chance to explain further you interrupted. 

- Why should I believe you? Not to mention at this point it wouldn't change anything. - you looked away. - Not after all this time. 

- How could I let you know it was a bluff if you cut me off completely? I couldn't find you anywhere, I tried for weeks. You moved out and blocked me. - Sigonian's voice broke when he choked on repressed emotions, wondering if you even listened to him, your expression not showing any sign of interest. 

- I don't care anymore. If you really wanted to you would find a way. - you shrugged. 

Before he could mention how he overused his political influence and still could not find a single trace of you black haired male approached you both with glass of wine. Aventurine sized him up, tall and well build man had a reserved and cool aura, Avgin could feel hidden power radiate from that guy, as if he had a beast under his skin. Something about the way dark-haired male looked at you made his stomach turn. 

- I brought the drink you wanted. Are you ok? Who's that man? - mysterious guy asked you, concerned by your uncomfortable body language. He had a deep, melodic voice but spoke in monotone way. 

- I should ask the same thing. - Aventurine did his best to sound intimidating. - You guys know each other? - he turned his gaze back to you. 

- Yes, it's my coworker, Dan Heng. We grew really close lately. - you smiled at that strange, tall man. Sigonian stopped himself from asking just how close the two of you were. - Thank you for a chance to catch up Aventurine, but you see, I'm very busy right now. I promised to introduce my... friend to a few people. 

You gave him venomous smile when Dan Heng put his arm around your waist protectively and pulled you away from your ex. Aventurine hated the way you let that guy touch you. Did you allow him even more in private? Did you let him do things Avgin used to do? Does that other man know how beautiful you look with messy hair and no make up, with flushed cheeks and tears of pleasure in your eyes? Do you sing for him the way you did for Aventurine every night? Does he wear your marks on his back? Gambler preferred not to know, but whether Dan Heng already took his place by your side or was yet working on it, he was sure of one thing.  

- It's not over yet. - Aventurine muttered, clenching his left fist till he heard a poker chip breaking in half. 

[nqmonarch]

Aeon Brainrot Fic Part 1

Goal: Make a yandere Aeon harem. This is part 1, introducing Aeon 1, guess who it is (it's in the tags).

Aeons can transform into human forms to like blend in and shit, they're still Aeons but they're not the size of a planet. It's like true form human form shit, not sure if that's canon (it is for Aha apparently) but it is in this story.

CW: None, but this series will probably become a yandere one later (but that's not in this part) so get attached at your own risk.

Your search history was downright concerning.

Hot Aeons near me

Would you die if you fucked an Aeon

Fuli video IPC

How to talk to an Aeon

Can you bring dead Aeons back to life

Who is Idrila

Can you date Aeons

That was okay so long as none of your coworkers knew about it. People on Herta's Space Station tended to have some weird interests but yours... they'd gone a bit far. On the bright side thanks to your knowledge of Aeons (even if it was due to unsavory desires like holding an Aeon's hand) you'd been recruited to help with the Simulated Universe.

You just weren't allowed to experience it yourself. Huge L for you. Instead you had to watch as this random space racoon ran through it all AND HOLY SHIT DID THEY JUST GET KISSED BY YAOSHI? NO FUCKING WAY!!!

"Trailblazer," You were near tears when they exited the simulation causing them to rush over to you, "How-- how could you? I thought we were friends..."

The Trailblazer looked at you nervously like a lost child as Herta let out a 'tch', "Control yourself," She turned to the trailblazer and began to brief them about Yaoshi all while you stared at the floor in despair.

"...It should've been me..." You whispered punching the floor softly and then apologizing to it, the floor didn't deserve that.

Sure you may be a minor fan of the Aeons, they were really cool, and maybe you made fanart and fanfiction of them and consumed a lot of it (the very little there was, to be honest the majority of the merch was by you) and bought all the merch even the overpriced Qlipoth merch from the IPC and maybe-- Okay you were a fan. You weren't a fanatic though it wasn't like you were stalking the Aeons or giving them gifts but... No. Your morals went against that, you were a good person who just happened to like atrocious people.

But Aeons couldn't be judged by human standards, so you couldn't say they were atrocious. But it'd be so cool-- so so cool to meet one. You at least had to try, but how?

You gave up. It was impossible to meet an Aeon of your own will, and once more you were confined to your bed of tears. You weren't able to stay in your room and cry for long though because this new researcher had taken up a hobby of annoying you. You didn't even know their name they were just always there.

You were making some work appropriate art of Tayzzyronth, a beautiful creature despite the destruction it left in its wake. You heard it'd been born out of loneliness being the last of its species-- ISN'T THAT TRAGIC?! You really wanted to hug the poor bug. But if it wasn't for that loneliness it would never be able to become the beautiful Aeon it could be, what a tragedy...

"So, whatcha doing?" An androgynous voice came from behind you, as you shot into the air, and slapped your hand over the person's eyes.

Oh it was them, you should really figure out their name, "Shit-- I thought I told you to stop sneaking up behind me?!" The panic was barely concealed in your voice as they slipped their hand up to remove your hand from their eyes.

"Damn, you suck!" They said, the audacity of this no name researcher!

You glared at them, holding your hand to your chest, "Excuse me?!"

Unfortunately for you, they took the opportunity to look at your laptop behind you, "Ooo where'd you get this photo?"

You were going to cry. Actually, maybe if you knocked them out you could convince them it was a hallucination. Well, a good punch to the head should do it! You raised your fist and punched them straight in the jaw. They stumbled back, still clearly conscious, and a light blush on their cheeks.

Maybe you should've aimed for the eyes? Eh, whatever you could just keep going until they were knocked out. You raised your hand again, maybe a good slap across the cheek would be better. It connected with a snap, leaving a red imprint on their cheek.

Fuck, they were still conscious. How were you going to explain this, actually, you should've tried this to start with.

You stared dead into the new researcher's eyes, "You were hallucinating."

Both of their cheeks were red as they blinked at you with amber eyes, once and then twice before beginning to laugh, "Ahahahahaha!" They began to clutch their stomach and you began to look around for a weapon.

You had no other choice now, "Man I really didn't think you'd do that!" They spoke elatedly, as you grabbed the monitor from your desk, they paused. "Wait what are you doing?" You raised the monitor above your head and they began to laugh hysterically again.

You paused letting out an aggrieved sigh, "Stop laughing!" What was wrong with this person?! Sure the researcher's at Herta's Space Station were weird but this one was extra weird-- actually you'd met weirder. You lowered the monitor and stared at them calculatingly.

"Aw, why'd you stop?" They teased you, leaning closer to you.

You don't think you'd be able to get away with murder. "I wasn't going to do anything." You stared blankly into their eyes and put the monitor away.

"Oh c'mon, is it because I was laughing?" They scuttled after you like a rodent, "Do it, do it!" They egged you on, "Why're you putting it away?"

You looked back at them blankly, "It was never out in the first place. You're hallucinating."

They blinked back, once, twice, "So... was I also hallucinating about the Tayzzyronth fanart you made?" This bastard. No, no if you killed someone you'd get found out. Maybe you could lure them to one of those airlocks and they could mysteriously fall out into space? Yeah, yeah, that'd be good.

But right now, you heard the steps of several researchers shit-- break must be over. You ran over to your computer closing out of your drawing program, and fifteen different tabs all relating to Aeons, then cleared your search history. You were safe another day.

Except... you stared over at the unknown researcher, "Not a fucking word."

They nodded, and you heard your coworkers enter, "Y/N, you stayed behind for lunch? Make sure to take care of yourself too," Generic coworker number one said and you nodded absentmindedly in response as the unknown researcher turned to them.

"Hey do you guys want to see this really cool art Y/--" That fucker. You ran over, slapping your hand over their mouth, and letting out a nervous laugh.

You stared at your coworkers, "Uh my... my..." fuck if only you knew this person's name, "lover,"

YOU COULD'VE SAID RESEARCHER WHY DID YOU SAY LOVER WHY WAS THAT WHAT YOUR MIND WENT TO-- NO DEAL WITH IT LATER YOU HAD TO FOCUS GET IN THE ZONE! GET IN THE FUCKING ZONE!

"Yes, my lover seems a bit tired I will uh put them to rest, please give me some time," You said letting out a small forced laugh and you heard the unnamed researcher begin to laugh from behind your hand you turned to them with a glare and whispered, "I will choke you."

With that you dragged them out of the room, keeping your hand over their mouth. Once you left the room you decided to let them breathe but instantly regretted it, "Choke me like you hate me but you love me--"

"Why are you like this?" You stared at the researcher pitifully and they only smiled at you.

"So about that fanart--" They began.

"Can you keep your mouth shut?!" Sure it was known that you studied Aeons but, your personal feelings weren't as well known. Maybe you could just write it off as research?

Somehow this lead to you and this random ass researcher whose name you still didn't know in your room late at night. In exchange for their silence you had to show them your collection, which they were now leisurely thumbing through.

"Ooo, I always felt like IX would be super cuddly if they weren't like doomed to kill whoever they were near, just the vibes," They commented offhandedly looking at some of your fanfiction.

"Right?! You get it!" You said excitedly and at their stare changing to focus on you, you immediately receded into yourself, "Why did you want to look at this anyway?"

They blinked at you, once and then twice before a smile stretched their cheeks wide, "It's funny. I've met followers of Yaoshi who worshipped the ground they stepped on like little dogs! The Annihilation Gang would've done anything for their "savior" Nanook. But..." They stared at you, cheeks rosy and excited, "to love them all with such fanaticism, even I could barely stand Tayzzyronth! They were amusing but became tiring quickly. It's just fun." They grinned at you ecstatically.

"I'm not a fanatic," You said in defense, "I can just admire the beauty of the things around me."

"Ahaha yes, yes!" They nodded at your words and then with eyes still in the shape of crescents asked, "Do you have any works of Aha by chance?"

You perked up at their sudden interested and cleared your throat, "I mean obviously, each Aeon has their own strong suit and beauty. Even one that only chases laughter with no regard of their effect on their world. There's still something so charming about it," You said seriously staring into the researcher's eyes.

They read through fanfiction, admired fanart, and then broke your piece of merch. That fucker--

"Are you asking to get hit?" Your smile was strained as they laughed before pausing.

"It's starting to get boring again," They muttered and looked at you, thinking for a moment before shrugging, "I'll be back! Don't forget me, okay?"

You stared at them blankly, "Yeah, by the way, who are you?"

"Ahahaha!" They let out a laugh as you remained emotionless, "I was..." they placed their finger to their chin and then pointed it at you, "your lover right?"

With that you watched their body disappear into a stack of cards which fluttered throughout the room. What the-- Had you been hallucinating all along?! You stared at the space where they had once been.

If it wasn't a hallucination it was someone strong, who derived joy from making people embarrassed, and wanted entertainment-- maybe a slight masochist as well based on their reaction from you hitting them? Your heart began to speed up, if they were an Aeon it would be Aha but... Aha would probably bring more chaos with them, more destroyed things.

A card landed on your cheek and you moved to brush it off, but it stuck. And then the rest of the cards began to turn to your body and glide toward it.

"What the fuck..." You stared at them for a split moment before beginning to run. Fuck-- it didn't matter who they were! No way was that an Aeon! Probably was just another asshole from your department playing a prank on you!

Why were the cards still chasing you?! Surely if you ran enough they'd stop! You raced through the space ship until you eventually reached the room that was the entrance to the simulated universe. Oh there was the trailblazer and Herta how convenient!

"Can I get some help?!" You called out and they both turned to you, unfortunately talking made you slow down a bit and--

"Mfmph..." You were a card mummy now great, at least you found someone that can help-- WERE THEY IGNORING YOU? AFTER ALL YOU DID? TRAILBLAZER NO-- YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE FRIENDS

Yandere parts won't be showing yet, they'll show later when some more Aeons are introduced (on this note I really do have to catch up with sim universe for the few crumbs of Aeons we're allowed because like 75% of this is just my delusions, but hey that's fun).

Pretty sure Aha is canonically a masochist because of the Aha doll thing. Anyway I feel like Aha would eat up someone being like romantically into not just one Aeon (like the one they worship) but literally wanting to fuck all the Aeons including Tayzyyronth which let's be honest, people aren't super big on because of the murder.

Also I feel like Aha would be into fanfiction and fanart and all that stuff? Dude would be one of those fans that leaves trolling hate comments on their favorite work but if the author stops updating they will hunt them down.

Anyway don't let that distract you from the fact you were about to murder a new researcher over seeing your Tayzzyronth fanart.

I wrote this in 2 hours on the spur of a whim

[meaningofaeons]

i absolutely love the way you write jing yuan! can you do some general domestic hcs for him? like him coming home after a long day at work and what'd you'd do together?

or on the weekend, where he doesn't have work, some cute sleeping in shenanigans before reader has to drag him out of bed

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ mundanities

⊹ character(s) - jing yuan ⊹ word count - 803 ⊹ notes - gn!reader

hi anon!! ty for the req!! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get around to it </3 hope you enjoy !!! (=♡ ᆺ ♡=)

Now, Jing Yuan is a man of dignity.

He's the General of the Xianzhou Luofu, for Aeons' sake. Though he may nap on the job occasionally, nobody would ever question his status and majesty.

Well, nobody except for you.

It's difficult to take him seriously when he's composed one minute on screen, delivering a speech to the masses with poise and honor, and the next thing you know he's practically flopping into your arms once he gets home, completely deadweight.

Even if you wanted to scold him for throwing himself at you, it's impossible.

The General looks like a puppy when he gazes up at you, sleep-ridden expression doing nothing to get rid of the shine in his eyes upon seeing you.

"I'm home, my dear."

And his honey-like voice soothes your senses the moment he greets you.

He sounds so unbelievably happy and relieved, it's adorable.

Jing Yuan doesn't really enjoy doing anything too excitable or bothersome after a long day at work.

Really, if he had his way, he'd spend every day (working or no) in your arms, snuggled up in bed. Maybe with Mimi cuddling you two as well.

He's not opposed to some activities, though.

If you offer a game of chess or a walk around the gardens of Central Starskiff Haven, it's unlikely he'd deny you no matter how tired he is

But sometimes he will have to gently let you down—especially so if he's already made his way to bed and can't bring himself to rise from the plushness of the mattress.

(If you do end up going out, halfway through the walk or chess game he's probably going to hang off your shoulder and start snoozing lightly)

Jing Yuan can nap and doze just about anywhere and everywhere, but when he's in bed, there's not a chance in Hell of waking him.

Let him hold onto you, though.

Even if he'd rather not do anything at all once he's off work, he's still quite clingy to you.

Will groan and grumble like a child if you need to go on an errand or some such

Tries very hard to convince you to just stay with him.

Please bend to his will!! He works so hard, just let him enjoy the time he has to snuggle up to you

Stroke his hair, run a gentle caress over his face, he'll melt into your touch

Odds are he either gets home very very late and it's time for bed anyhow, or he gets home midday/afternoon and sleeps enough to ruin his bedtime

If it's the latter, he might be the one to ask you to take a walk and admire the stars together, surprisingly.

Jing Yuan is like a cat in that he can kind of sleep as much as he wants to, but sometimes he appreciates going out with you more than cooping up inside!

Now onto the weekends... You can't tell me this man is the worst on days off.

No need to get up for work? To him, that's as good as 'no need to get up at all.'

Obviously, there's stuff to be done around the house, or he made a promise to train with Yanqing that he may have forgotten about once he felt your hand stroking his white locks in the morning...

Not to mention, not only does he not get out of bed himself, but he has a vice grip on you making it so you can't get out of bed.

"Jing Yuan, darling. I need the restroom."

"Mmm... five more minutes..."

"I'll come right back."

"Ugh..."

I swear, if you thought he was petulant about you leaving during his afternoon naps, he's a whole new breed of childish in the morning if you so much as scoot away from him a bit

Forget about getting him up to do any chores or run any errands.

It'd be a miracle if you yourself managed to get out and finish them.

Once you manage to escape his grasp and run the errands you need to take care of outside of the comforts of your home, you will in most cases return to a somewhat guilty Jing Yuan who has taken care of the household chores in your absence.

You had scolded him to get up and get ready to go ten times before giving up, so the guilty conscience it put on him was very deserved, but...

He may be a bit lazy, but he's far from a slob, and he's certainly not ungrateful enough to you to let the household work go unfinished in your absence.

Besides... once your warmth had vanished from beside him, he found it a bit easier to drag himself up.

He's quick to latch right back onto you when you get home, though.

[jhuzen]

// spoilers for dan heng IL ( and long thirst / ask hehe)

… .. .. back again with thirsts of deflowering the pretty dragon king… THE NEW LEAKS OF HIS ANIMATIONS MAKE HIM EVEN MORE ETHEREAL, I AM GOING FERAL. HIS EXPRESSION DURING HIS BURST…. THE ELEGANT SMUG LOOK. HE DESERVES TO GET HIS BACK BROKEN, LEGS TURNED INTO JELLY, TEAR MARKS STREAKING DOWN HIS BEAUTIFUL FACE.

i imagine the first time of "making love" to ( ahem. breeding. ) danheng il could go two ways, starting softly with gentle kisses on his forehead, slowly slipping off his intricate garments, murmuring adoring words of praise as you worship every inch of him… aeons, he'd probably start crying from uncontrollable emotions of feeling so loved after all the shit that has happened ( and arousal. the old dude would probably find "being taken in the most 'purest/bare state'" so exciting )…

…before slowly wrecking him as you grab him by his tiny waist (whore.) or intricate horns and pound into him while he screams, scrambling to grip any surface to stabilize himself before he goes truly brainless from your actions, undecided whether he should try bucking forward to 'get away' from the overstimulation or lean closer to you to experience more of that addicting pleasure. ( he'll probably end up choosing the latter. dragons are such greedy creatures. can you blame him for wanting more? )

.. throw in some dirty words about how he'll look so lovely when he's with child, how he'd be such a great mommy ( the logical part of his brain wants him to argue that it's not biologically possible, but he's too cock-drunk for that part to even work so he nods dazedly, letting out a whimper at your vulgar words [ and jokes on him, by the end he'll be bred so good that he bends biology ] ) … call him your mate to scratch that primal part of his brain… and maybe press the bulge on his stomach that's slowly forming as you continue to make a mess out of him.

Or you start off the session immediately acting feral and ripping his clothes off and going to town on him lmao.

EXCUSE ME?? THE ABSOLUTE AUDACITY. TO KNOCK ME OFF MY SOCKS AS I READ EVERY WORD. I AM. LICKING. THIS. UP. TOO GOOD. I LOVE IT.

just dan heng getting so impossibly flustered. imagine if this mf actually gets addicted to it, the subsequent sessions after-

DUDE. him desperately spreading himself open for you with his shaking hands to “help” you because you said you’re too tired to fuck him. oR HIM RIDING YOU, letting out these soft desperate whines because hOW THE HECK CAN YOU REACH THAT GOOD SPOT IN HIM AND HE CANT DO IT HIMSELF?

i’m addicted at the thought of him being such a helpless pillow prince. so dumb yet so eager. there is charm in every sloppy head he gives you, his inexperience showing because he’s an old ass virgin. he’s willing to learn but he just fucks it up every now and then, but he’s trying!!!

and i am here to spread my agenda about the motorcycle joke. his back completely bent because you’re holding his horns while you ruthlessly fuck into his cute little hole ajdisjdkc my mind is broken.

and i don’t want to be that guy but-

ajsijwdkc suckin on his tiddies while lactating if he ends up breaking his race’s biological code is giving everything.

[hawkinasock]

Yanqing is just the subject of a aeon tug of war game he didn’t even sign up for someone save him

Also would love to hear more about your thoughts on Jing Yuan and his whole thought process on the Hunt/Abundance and Abundance!Yanqing in general

Poor kid can't catch a break man... Don't ask for help from me, though. I'll just make it worse lmao.

Prepare for another yapping session, because there is so much I have to say about Jing Yuan when it comes to this theory.

Firstly, while I've said before that Jing Yuan is aware of Yanqing's status, that doesn't mean he knows the full story. As far as he's aware, Yanqing is either a human that the disciples had gotten their hands on at one point or a unique type of Abomination that is almost entirely indiscernible from any other human. He doesn't know the extent of his origins, his relationship with Yaoshi, he isn't even confident in the full potential of Yanqing's power.

That aside, something about him made Jing Yuan unable or unwilling to go through with killing him, and when he made the decision to keep Yanqing alive, took it upon himself to raise him rather than leave him to an orphanage, keeping the secret under wraps. Maybe there was something about that baby that lit a spark in him. Maybe when he looked to what should be a monster and saw an innocent child who didn't understand what was going on, didn't know what he was or why Jing Yuan held that glaive, it would be monstrous of him to snuff out that life. Maybe he only became aware of Yanqing's status after the fact, but by that point was too attached to ever even consider telling anyone.

Whatever the circumstances were, in Jing Yuan's eyes, Yanqing is far more valuable to him than anything else. Even his loyalty to the Alliance, whom he has sworn loyalty since his youth became expendable the moment he held that little infant in his arms for the first time. He would be content taking on the label of a traitor so long as it meant keeping his son alive.

In terms of the aeons, there's no implications that Jing Yuan feels any sort of respect for Yaoshi or the Abundance as a whole, it's definitely the opposite, in fact. The overall consensus is that he remains loyal to the Xianzhou and their designated aeon, it just comes down to his own hypocrisy and apparent double standards. He's slain countless abominations, but not only did he spare the life of one, he brought it into his home and gave it one of the highest ranks on the Luofu.

Huaiyan was wrong. At one point, Jing Yuan's loyalty not only wavered but crumbled. He knows he won't make it out of this unpunished; soon the lie will stretch too thin, and it's only a matter of time until it all comes back to bite him. But so long as Yanqing is okay, so long as he's alive, then Jing Yuan is content with that outcome.

[iamthecomet]

i will offer you my firstborn child for a new ghoul focused fic about him being praised about insecurities. i find comfort in my favs having the same issues as me, so the idea of him not really liking his body but being praised for it is just so good to me

I don’t know if this is exactly what you were looking for. But I blacked out and wrote 1k of Aeon/Dew angst/comfort. ♥ No smut (but it's implied). Just Aeon being insecure and Dew having none of it.

Aeon feels….wrong. The galaxy that is his existence shoved into this…the other called it a vessel. He thinks prison is a better word. They keep telling him he'll get used to it. Used to looking in the mirror and seeing…this. Whatever it is.

Dark skin splotched with swirling galaxies. Freckles like stars dotted over the pale spots. The brilliant white stripe of hair that keeps falling over his too dark eyes.

The horns and tail, at least, are familiar. Horns sharp and nearly iridescent. Shimmering black. His tail, dark as the night sky, curls around his forearm. The spade tapping against his ever rapid pulse. He fiddles with the waistband of his pants. Tightens the belt. He's always been small, but he feels his size so much more acutely here. He feels bigger--his personality dictates it. But next to Aether he looks like a kit.

The mechanical lock in the door hums. Clicks. It swings open to reveal Dew, shouldering it open as he stumbles through the small opening. Cheeks flushed, golden hair pulled back into a messy bun. Boots untied.

Dew looks up at Aeon as he closes the door--harder than necessary. Dew leans back against it, a little out of breath. His eyes glued to Aeon's body.

Aeon thinks about asking where he's been--what they all did after the show when they got together and Aeon retreated back to the room claiming an imaginary headache. But he doesn't think he actually wants to know. Doesn't really want to hear about whatever dive bar they found tonight. Or who Dew fucked in a sticky bathroom.

Dew reeks of cigarettes. Stale beer. Aeon crinkles his nose, drags his eyes away from the fire ghoul and back to the mirror. Meeting his own eyes. Still startled by himself. By the way the scars from the pit have translated onto this body.

Dew pushes away from the door and Aeon watches him move. Toe off his boots, shrug off his jacket. Dew has his t-shirt halfway off when he finally talks. Voice muffled by cotton.

"Checking yourself out, huh?"

Aeon winces. He could lie. Say yes. That would be the end of it. But he finds himself shaking his head before he can stop himself.

"I'm not--that doesn't look like me."

Dew tosses his t-shirt across the room when he finally gets it off. He blows hair out of his mouth. Meeting Aeon's eyes in the mirror. He moves closer, stalks is a better word for the way Dew walks. Aeon still isn't used to it. Being the singular focus of Dew's attention is still a little intense. Dew stops right behind him.

Close up the cigarette smell isn't as bad as Aeon thought. He can smell Dew underneath it. Cinnamon, woodsmoke, autumnal in a way that makes Aeon wish for fall. They're almost the same size. Aeon's a little bigger but he doesn't feel that way. He feels minuscule under the weight of Dew's gaze.

Dew catches his eye in the mirror, brow furrowing. "What were you expecting?"

It's a hard question, one Aeon almost chokes on. He doesn't know how to answer it. Taller maybe, broader, like Aether. Like other Quint ghouls even though he's always been little. Smooth, even skin. Lighter eyes. Something else--not this.

He doesn't answer, the words don't come. Dew reaches out. Traces overwarm fingers over one of the lighter patches of Aeon's skin. Thumb dragging over the galaxy of freckles, the endless array of colors.

"I don't know what you see when you look at yourself," Dew says slowly, like he's testing the waters. "But I think it's different than what I see when I look at you."

"Which is what?"

Dew huffs out a laugh, breath tickling Aeon's ear. Dew's hand slips lower, over his chest. "You're so fucking pretty."

Aeon's cheeks heat. He drags his eyes away from Dew's, looks down over the flat plane of his chest. Dews fingers ghosting over his collarbone. Feather light.

"You don't have to lie to me."

Dew goes rigid behind him. His fingers go still on Aeon's chest. The other hand snakes around his waist, presses flat to Aeon's stomach. An iron grip.

"Look at me."

Aeon raises his eyes to Dew's in the mirror.

"No," Dew snaps, "look at me."

He forces himself to turn his head, to look at Dew for real. Flesh and blood only inches from his face.

"Why the fuck do you think I'm lying to you?"

Aeon shrugs. "I…look at me..I'm not--"

"Shut up," Dew says, eye roll iminant. Aeon opens his mouth to protest but Dew keeps talking, cutting him off. Molten eyes fixed on his. Aeon had noticed before--but the center of Dew's eyes hints toward blue. Copper, oxidized. "You're exactly the way you're supposed to be. So fucking pretty I can't stand to look at you sometimes. Makes me insane."

"I--"

"I know how it feels to look in the mirror and not see yourself. But fuck Aeon, I don't know what you were expecting, but you're wrong. This is better than anything you were hoping for."

"Wrong? It's an opinion."

"Yeah. A wrong one. Looking at you is like looking at the sky on a clear night. You're the fucking milky way."

Aeon's words fail him. Protests dying on his tongue. Heart swelling. Something that feels like a sob threatening to break free in his chest. If Dew's lying--he's damn good at it. Aeon sees nothing in that angular face but devotion. It's overwhelming, he could drown in it. Maybe he wants to.

Dew tips his head forward, leans his forehead against Aeon's. Horns bumping. Breath mingling.

"Come to bed," Dew whispers, "I'll show you how much I mean it." Aeon's body is filled with light. Warmth. Static. He thinks he should nod, should let himself be led away, worshipped the way Dew's eyes are promising. He reaches up instead, drags his fingers over the sharp line of Dew's cheekbone. Dew leans into his touch, eyes fluttering closed.

"You want me," Aeon whispers, an impossibility. Dew nods, nuzzling against his hand.

"Yeah, dumbass, I do."

[senqv]

HOUSE OF KINGS.

blue lock ! royal / fantasy au series featuring : michael kaiser x fem! reader

warning(s): 1.1k , asshole ism , more traditional feminine roles , arranged marriage , lmk if there are more !!

a/n: how r we feeling

next.

ONE. CHILD OF PROPHECY

in the reign of the first emperors, or so said the tales, the child of god is born — in silver moonlight and touched with the whisper of divinity.

they said that in his birth, the muses came and told it to his half-nymph mother, a beloved daughter of the water gods. they landed kisses on her sweat-sheened temple and sang each unravelling prophecy with the golden strings of their lyres; chosen by god, they purred, the emperor of kings.

they did not stay for long, but they had no need to. word travels swiftly in the whirling halls of the palace.

michael, gift of god, whom the divine had gingerly formed in their image, golden and jewel-eyed. the one who will fell men like wheat beneath a scythe and have them all crouching at his heel.

a godly son means haste to find a wife to carry on the bloodline, hungry in hopes that the gods will shine their divine light again with each beautiful son to come. and thus, the one they chose is you, daughter of house adalheidis, rumoured to have had divine blood from a sea nymph mixed in aeons ago. a nymph is the least of the lesser gods, but still a god, nonetheless, and divine blood purified the muddy dust of the human race to mould saints and heroes.

the divine blood of your house has long been watered down, with no traces of any deific features that might make an appearance in fables or folklore. but still, it is enough.

nymph, in the olden languages, is the same word for bride.

so perhaps your fate had been preordained long ago.

and so, when you first meet god, you are just short of thirteen years old.

they twine your hair with ribbons and strings of pearls, silent tittering as they dusted a pearly powder over your cheeks, an incandescent glow illuminating against the bronze mirror. your head lolls to the rhythm of their chatter, following the direction your hair was gently tugged at, eyes slow and blinking, not quite shed of the silvery sleep.

when you arrive, the sun shines brightly in the transparent sky, casting a golden glow over the white plaster of the palace architecture. banners hang from the ceiling, a royal blue, fluttering in the wind; your gaze climbs upwards, following the inscriptions of ancient fables, the effigies of the gods carved into the ceiling. the sunlight dancing in the curve of their marble eyes was so fervid you tore your gaze away in fear they might come alive.

a servant you had not caught the name of led you through the halls. he looked your age, maybe slightly older; not quite grown out into his lanky frame, eyes downcast and shy.

the emperor was not present, he had told you with nervous hands, and so you were being brought directly to the son of god himself.

your steps halt at a side door in the northernmost part of the palace. from what you could see, it was not as grand as the throne room you had passed by earlier, but it was obvious how pampered this boy prince was; before you, arched pillars loomed over the doors of imported oakwood, engraved with gentle carvings of even more obscure fables of prophetical sons and warrior kings.

he is lying on his side on a wide, pillowed bench, thick furs strewn all over the velvety couch. his eyes were half closed, lashes fluttering against his cheeks each time he blinked.

at the purposeful scuffing of your sandals against the floor, he glanced up briefly, lolling his head to the side to look at you.

lazily, his hands stroked the majestic forest cat on his lap, golden fur streaked like a lion, mirroring its owner. but no — it would be wrong to compare it as such. his hair was entirely different, lit by the sun with a spring honey lustre, spun from threads of gold. if you looked closer, within it glints the golden circlet of a prince, nearly black against the brightness of his hair.

you felt your breaths slow, gaping at the cold shock of his beauty. he was not much older than you, but incomparable with the boys your age; of jewel blue eyes sharp as a beast, cheeks and mouth tinted a cherubic rose, painted by the careful muses themselves.

if you were not a child of noble birth, you're quite sure your jaw would have been hanging slack by now. instead, you pressed your lips together and tore your gaze to the floor.

you can feel his eyes on you, and hear a slight shuffle of him leaning more forward to regard you. "what is your name?" his voice is silken, tinged with the slight crackle of sleep and boredom. you keep your gaze screwed to the ground out of spite, a muscle in your jaw ticking. your family was one of the great pillars of the empire, flourishing in trade and commerce. you were his arranged bride, to be the empress of his nation. and yet he still did not know you.

now, he sits up completely, cat yowling faintly in his lap. he speaks again, louder, clear as the glacial waters of the north. "what is your name?" the first lapse of silence was excusable, perhaps you had not heard. now, the boy prince demands an answer.

and so, you level your gaze with his, staring with all the conviction and animosity of a noble girl who had never experienced such blatant disregard. you speak your name as if casting a spell, each syllable strong and resonant, muttered with intention — to engrave your name in his mind, to make sure he could not forget it even if he wanted.

"of house adalheidis," you added in finality.

he's focused on you now, silvery blue gaze as cutting as a knife. he tips his chin up, staring downwards. "my name is michael," he purrs, "kaiser." the side of his mouth quirked slightly at the intensity of your stare. from the corner of your eyes, you faintly notice the dimples appearing at the sides of his face.

you both held the other's gaze in silence. the amusement on his face was obvious, and your brows melded together in confusion for a split second.

then he blinked, mouth cracked open like a yawning cat, mirroring the feline on his lap.

kaiser's interest came as quickly as it left, as if everything was a divine comedy preened before him to garner his delight. he no longer was looking at you.

"welcome to the palace."

you were raised in court, and you knew dismissal when you heard it. you lowered your head with clenched fingers, bruising the crushed silk of your dress.

[starlightcleric]

Teatime

Fandom: Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous

Relationship: Commander/Lann (pre-relationship)

Other: past child abuse mentioned

For day 1 of @owlcatober! Also on AO3.

-

Cassandra raised her hand to knock on Lann’s bedroom door, but hesitated, her stomach twisting into knots. He would think her foolish. And she was foolish, this was a petty thing to be afraid of after their months of hunting demons. But as much as her anxiety tried, she couldn’t imagine a judgmental look on Lann’s face. That’s why she was here. He was safe.

Steeling her nerve, she knocked.

“Door’s open,” came Lann’s muffled voice from inside.

Faced with the dilemma of entering a man’s bedroom or facing Lady Konomi and Daeran by herself, Cassandra stalled, and settled for opening the door and peering in from the threshold.

Lann had cleared a space in the middle of his floor, and he was currently down there doing pushups. While his normal shirt didn’t cover much, right now his torso was completely bare and Cassandra could feel her cheeks warming as her eyes traveled across his back muscles, rippling from flesh to scales. Hiding her face behind her long, red hair, she cleared her throat to get his attention.

He looked up, then nearly lost his balance as he recognized her. “Uh, hi.”

“I…” Cassandra swallowed, “need your help.”

In a second he was on his feet and to her in the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

Now she was definitely turning beet red from the intensity of his gaze. “It’s nothing serious, don’t worry.” She looked down from his eyes to give herself a moment to think, only to find her eyes resting on his bare chest. The warmth spread up to her ears. Closing her eyes entirely and pushing the untoward thoughts to the back of her mind, Cassandra took a deep breath in and out. “Lady Konomi and Daeran have decided I need etiquette lessons and I don’t want to be alone with them, they’ll eat me alive.”

“Huh, okay.” Cassandra peeked an eye open to see him running a hand through his short brown hair. “I’m no expert at these things at all, but I do know how to use a fork, so I guess I’m halfway there.”

“I just…” Cassandra played with the ends of her hair to avoid looking at Lann. “It would be helpful to have a friendly face.”

“Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for my ‘delightfully freakish’ face, but I can help drag down the class level of this little shindig.”

“Lann…” a million things to say flew across Cassandra’s mind. His face wasn’t freakish. She liked his face. She’d rather spend the time with him. Maybe he could make this tea party bearable. But all she could choke out was, “Thank you.”

-

Lady Konomi was less than thrilled by the addition to the party, but Daeran grabbed another chair out onto the balcony around the small table. Cassandra tried to ignore the constellation patterns dancing around his figure. The Aeon didn’t like him. Cassandra wasn’t sure.

Daeran pulled a chair out from the table and watched her expectantly. She stared blankly back at him. He sighed. “Sit down, Cassandra, I’m being polite.”

“Oh, I, uh, thought that was your chair.” She slid into the chair and let Daeran push her in.

Lady Konomi shook her head. “Try it again. Nod, curtsy, approach the whole thing with dignity instead of like a frightened animal.”

She made Cassandra sit down four times before she was happy, or at least gave up.

Daeran sat to her right, Lann to her left, and Lady Konomi across the table. Cassandra wasn’t sure why she needed more than one fork, but she did recognize that the place had been set for a right handed person. Quietly, she attempted to mirror the place setting on the other side of her plate.

“What in the world are you doing?” Lady Konomi glared at her while Daeran poured the tea into delicate cups.

“I’m left handed,” Cassandra protested.

“It’s not fashionable to be left handed,” Lady Konomi sniffed.

Cassandra clenched her teeth. “That doesn’t change reality.”

“Well, you never know,” said Daeran, passing Cassandra a tea cup and saucer, “if it becomes widely known that the Knight Commander of the Crusade is left handed, it could become fashionable.”

This made Lady Konomi pause, and finally accepted her own cup of tea, apparently resigned to the situation. “Don’t slouch, sit up straight.”

Both Cassandra and Lann tried to sit up straighter.

“Not like that, stomach in, feel the line from the top of your skull through your spine.” Lady Konomi ran an appraising eye over her and Cassandra felt a pit in the bottom of her stomach. No, she was safe here. For all Lady Konomi’s bluster, she didn’t actually mean her harm. “Not the worst. Did your governess never have you practice with a book on your head?”

Cassandra looked at her like she had grown an extra head. “In what world is that normal?”

“I know Lann was raised in a cave, so he has an excuse,” said Daeran dryly, “but what’s yours? Raised by wolves? Wild barbarians?”

“Nothing so exciting,” Cassandra deadpanned back, “I’m from Chesed.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Numeria? I was joking about the barbarians.”

“It’s a real town,” she protested, “but we were nowhere near well-off enough to have a governess. Before… never mind.”

“So if we can’t even sit properly, I’ll bet we’re not holding these things right, either,” Lann jumped in, smoothing over her trailed off thought.

“Yes.” Lady Konomi demonstrated. “Hold it delicately, it’s not a beer mug. Pinkies out.” Cassandra’s left elbow bumped into Lann’s right as they both lifted their cups. “Keep your elbow close to your body.”

Trying to hold her back straight, pinky out, keeping in mind everything thrown at her, Cassandra raised a trembling hand to quickly take a sip from the teacup. And then, confronted with the bitter taste, immediately spat it back out.

Lady Konomi gasped, but Daeran just smoothly took the cup from her hands, dumped the contents over the edge of the balcony, then poured her a new cup. “Try adding cream and sugar. It’s a bit of an acquired taste.”

Cassandra, warmly flushed to her ears again, began adding cream and several helpings of sugar to her cup under everyone’s scrutiny.

She relaxed slightly as Lann began to speak and Lady Konomi’s attention turned towards him. “Tastes kind of like when dead leaves start to get into the water supply.” Lann made a funny face and Cassandra resisted the urge to laugh at Lady Konomi’s scandalized expression.

“That’s because, my subterranean comrade,” drawled Daeran, “when it all comes down to it, it is leaf water. Just very specific leaves grown in very specific places.”

Lann flicked a passing fly off the edge of his saucer at Daeran. “Ah, yes, we can only have the finest of leaf water in high society.”

“But of course.” Daeran took a sip of his own tea, more slowly than Cassandra had tried. “After this, I should very much like to get your expert opinion on coffee.”

“What’s that?”

“Bean water. Ah, Cassandra,” Daeran’s eyes flicked back toward her and her teacup. “Don’t add lemon to that mix, it will curdle the milk.”

Cassandra set the lemon wedge back on the plate and tried another sip of the tea, more slowly like Daeran had. She desperately tried not to make a face. The milk and sugar had improved the drink, but she still couldn’t claim to enjoy it.

The small table fell into silence.

“This is where we would make small talk about the weather, politics, or other dreadfully boring topics,” said Daeran, “but I claim we all know too much about each other for such benign pleasantries, and seek to discuss something interesting.”

“I’m not quite sure I would enjoy whatever it is you find ‘interesting,’ Count Arendae,” Lady Konomi bit back icily. “And this is supposed to be a crash course in polite society. Let’s keep it polite.”

Daeran carefully took a sip of tea. “You wound me, dear lady. I was simply going to grill our Knight Commander on what it was like growing up in Numeria.”

“Awful,” Cassandra spit out before she could stop herself. Everyone turned to look at her. “That is… I can’t remember most of it. Which is awful enough in itself, I suppose.” Her hand started to shake, so she set down her teacup and gripped the arm of her chair, her knuckles turning white.

“Hey,” Lann said gently, “you don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Cassandra swallowed. “I don’t… but I do. I think you all should know by now.” Steeling her nerve as much as she could, she looked Lady Konomi straight in the eye. “You want to know how I was raised, Lady Konomi? My mother sold me to the Technic League to be a human test subject when I was ten. They had never seen a Kineticist who could manipulate blood before.” Her fingernails dug into the wooden chair arm. “So no, I wasn’t raised properly. I wasn’t raised. I wasn’t educated. I don’t know how to drink tea, or greet a lord; I just know how to hurt people.”

She felt pressure on top of her hand, and she realized Lann had taken her hand in his. She transferred her death grip from the chair arm to his hand. “How did you get here?” he asked softly.

Cassandra shook her head, not minding the long red hair falling in her face, she wasn’t really seeing it anymore. “I don’t really remember, but I do remember trying to escape multiple times. They always got me back. I must have succeeded, though, made it into Mendev, just in time to be attacked by demons…”

Lady Konomi sighed, rubbing her temples. “I don’t know that I can work with this, this is a much more severe case than anticipated. Perhaps if we spin it as—”

Cassandra tuned her out, beset by images, interchanging of scientists with needles and… demons with test tubes? That couldn’t be right. And a woman… a woman with horns and wings and a long, red dress…

“Eat this,” Daeran shoved one of the little sweets at her.

Cassandra blinked at him, jolted out of her spiral.

“It’s a chocolate macaron,” he said. “With raspberry filling.” At her non-action, he sighed. “It’s a sweet, it’s tasty, try it.”

Coming back to the awareness of her limbs, she guiltily withdrew her hand from Lann’s and accepted the macaron. It was tasty, and the chocolate and raspberry on her tongue helped ground her. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Lann said forcefully, “none of this is your fault, okay? Look at me.”

It was the hardest thing in the world, but she met Lann’s eyes.

“Your parents might have been lower than dirt, and all the adults in your life that should have kept you safe, but you’re free of them now. You’re—I can’t say you’re safe, because you’re leading an assault against armies of demons, but you’re surrounded by people who care about you, now, and we will never let that happen again. I will never let that happen again.”

Cassandra couldn’t keep the tears back anymore and she sobbed, still holding on to her half eaten macaron. The tears fell for a bit before she could compose herself, before she was able to choke back the sobs and dry her eyes. “I’m sorry—no, thank you.” She sniffled, then looked at Daeran. “This was just a disaster, wasn’t it? I don’t even like tea.”

“As an etiquette lesson this may have been a disaster,” said Daeran, “but I see no reason to let these delightful little sandwiches go to waste.”

Cassandra blotted her eyes, aware enough to do so with her napkin instead of her sleeve. “As long as you don’t keep subjecting me to whatever horrible things people have decided to boil in water.”

“Now that you’ve said that, that is exactly what I must do. Even if your childhood was… lacking, there’s no excuse to not have an education now. What should be next, I wonder? Coffee? Fruit tisanes?”

As collectedly as she could, Cassandra stood up from the small table, took her unfinished cup of tea, and dumped it over Daeran’s head. As he stared at her in shock, she dropped into her best imitation of a curtsy. “Thank you, my lord, but I’m afraid I will have to decline.”

Lann let out a bark of laughter at Daeran’s dumbfounded expression. And Cassandra walked away.