#But he just took the supplies from the aether

[im-a-wizard-who-dont-crime]

@the-gnomish-bastard I was going to make a few burgers. But a guy just gave me his homemade tomato sauce so now I'm making a margarita pizza

[lilypadlys]

Satan is My Motor

Dewdrop and Rain go on a motorcycle ride and have a picnic

Ship: Dewdrop/Rain

Word Count: 1,624

Rating: Teen, Fluff

Tags: fluff, the cuties being sweet, kissies

Read below the cut or on AO3

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“You coming, Rainbow?” Dew glances into the hall from the common room for the umpteenth time.

Rain pokes his head out from his room with a mock shocked expression. “Am I what?!”

Dew rolls his eyes but can’t keep an amused grin off his face. “You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, I’m coming.” He trots over.

“You’re what?!” Mountain calls from behind Dew.

Rain giggles while Dew tries to glare at them both, simultaneously.

“I hate both of you.” He groans with no heat as Rain and Mountain kiss him on either cheek.

“Love you too, Dewy.” Mountain chuckles as he hands him the picnic basket he packed for Dew and Rain.

“Thank you Mounty! Love you.” Rain nuzzles the earth ghoul before grabbing Dew’s hand. “C’mon lets go!” He says it like he’d been the one waiting on Dew. The fire ghoul just sighs fondly and lets himself be pulled along.

They head out to the ministry’s garages, passing various cars belonging to the clergy members and even siblings. They both give a solemn nod to Sister Imperator’s old car as they pass. They reach an emptier corner of the garages where the motorcycle sits under a tarp. Passing their basket to Rain; Dew unveils it, giving the handle bars a fond pat.

The motorcycle was originally meant to be Copia’s. Some well intentioned clergy member at a sister ministry caught wind of Copia’s fondness for cycling and sent it as a gift to congratulate his ascent to the status of Papa. Unfortunately the sender had misunderstood that Copia’s biking ability only extended to pedalable vehicles with at least three wheels. Even a regular bike was a recipe for a trip to the infirmary. The potential damage he could cause with a motorcycle quickly assured the vehicle remained stored in the garages unused.

Aether’s actually the one to have first been granted the bike by Copia, when the quint retired. Aether had quickly suggested letting Dew have it instead, knowing the fire ghoul had taken an interest in actually purchasing a bike. Dew was given the keys with the agreement to sometimes do supply runs into the nearby town and it was a match made in heaven (hell?).

Dew quickly took to solitary rides in the countryside in the off seasons from touring. Somewhere along the way though, Rain, Aurora, and Cumulus started joining him here and there. Dew’s helmet is basic black but the girls share a pink one with a bow attached on the back. Dew got Rain a helmet with cat ears as a joke when the water ghoul started backpacking more regularly but Rain loves it.

Today, they pack the basket of food and a picnic blanket into the motorcycle’s saddlebags before donning their helmets and hopping on. The cycle purrs to life and they’re off down dusty country roads towards their favorite spot. There’s little noise besides the rumble of the engine and the wind rushing by. Still too loud to really talk though, they instead share a pair of wireless earbuds set to the playlist they made together for this purpose.

Rain leans forward to rest his helmented cheek against Dew’s back and squeezes his arms three times around Dew’s middle. Dew returns the gesture by quickly squeezing one of Rain’s hands thrice. They both love the closeness and trust that riding together requires, something that they manage to communicate without words.

It’s quite a while before they reach their spot, a grassy lookout over an old quarry. The mining project lost its funding years ago so now the quarry sits empty; the un-mined quartz deposits in the bare rock walls glittering in the sun. The view makes the journey more than worth it.

The wheels of the bike bite at the gravel ground as Dew brakes, a surprisingly loud sound thanks to the echo the basin provides. Once he’s brought it to a stop and pulled the key, he pats Rain’s arm to give him the all clear to hop off. Rain pulls his helmet off and shakes out his short but fluffy waves, somehow immaculate. By contrast, Dew’s hair is a mess of frizzy helmet head that Rain always giggles at.

“Don’t say it.”

“I didn’t say a word.” Rain flutters his lashes innocently, even as he reaches over to muss Dew’s hair even more.

“Ahh stop that. You're going to make it worse.” Dew bats at Rain’s hand. “I take you on a date somewhere nice and you laugh at me.” Dew crosses his arms and points his nose up in an exaggerated pout he learned from none other than Rain himself, until the water ghoul cajoles him with promises to detangle and braid it for him.

They set up their picnic quickly, laying the blanket out and diving into the sandwiches Mountain packed for them.

“Mmm,” Rain licks a dollop of sauce off his finger. “I’m going to have to bug Cirrus to make more of her homemade mayo. The store bought stuff isn’t as good somehow. I think it’s the extra spices she put in it.”

“Agreed.” Dew nods between bites of his own sandwich.

“Oh! Mountain packed some of Cumulus’ cookies.”

“Ooh gimme!”

“Chocolate chip or peanut butter?”

“Split 'em?”

“Kay.”

At some point they flop on their backs to watch the clouds float by as they finish up their food. Dew crunches at an apple while Rain opts for his seaweed snacks.

“Mm, that one looks like a volcano.” Rain points at the sky.

“That one looks like a dragon.”

“Hm?”

“Little to the left.”

“Oh yeah.” Rain looks around again and suddenly smirks.

“What?”

“That one looks like a dick.”

Dew sputters. “Rain! Why would…oh it really does. Take a picture and send it to Swiss.”

“Already on it. Sunny too?”

“Well yeah.”

“Okay sent.” Rain’s phone beeps. “Well that was quick.”

“Which one?”

Rain’s phone pings again. “Both. Sunny is laughing and Swiss is saying things I shant repeat. Oh yeah, do you want me to fix your hair now?”

“Sure.”

Rain tosses his phone on the blanket in favor of sitting up and pulling Dew into his lap. Starting at the ends, he begins finger combing through Dew’s tresses until the knots fall away. Dew is purring like a motor by the time Rain starts french braiding. After he ties it off, a hair tie conjured from the supply in his pocket, Rain kisses Dew’s head between his horns. Dew tilts his head back to look at Rain and the water ghoul can’t help but kiss his nose as well. Dew chuffs and rolls over.

“Hm?”

“I want a real kiss.” Dew leans in to capture Rain’s lips with his own.

When they finally part, Rain flops on his back again pulling Dew with him. They share a fond smile, only broken by Dew suddenly yawning. Rain laughs until he too can’t suppress a yawn. They blink at each other.

“Nap time?” The way the sun warms their little patch of grass makes it too tempting to not take a quick snooze.

Dew is already snuggling into Rain’s chest with another yawn.

They both sleep for about an hour before Rain rouses first; stretching with some difficulty with Dew’s dead weight on his chest.

“Hey Dewy.” He coos. “Time to wake up and head back.”

Dew makes a noise akin to the mrrep cats make when they wake up and Rain has to fight the urge not to squeeze Dew till he can’t breathe. Instead he pets his head.

“Have a nice nap?”

Dew nods, arching his back in a stretch before rolling off of Rain. “You?”

“Mm hmm.”

Dew glances at his phone and Rain looks over his shoulder.

“Geez, we were out for a while.”

“Nah,” Dew shrugs, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. “Sun does go down for another couple hours. We’ve got time to get back before dark.”

“We should definitely get going though.”

“Yeah.” Dew pulls Rain to his feet.

They quickly pack up their things, storing them once again in the bags on the rear of the bike. Once their helmets are on, they get on the bike and give the view over the quarry one last glance.

Dew pats between the cat ears on Rain’s helmet while the water ghoul pulls up their road playlist. “Ready kitty?”

“Meow!” Rain grins, before popping his visor down. Dew does the same and hits the gas.

They’re back at the abbey before dark, and soon the bike is stored until next time. Dew and Rain head inside to join the rest of the pack in the common room.

“Hey you two. How was it?” Mountain pulls them into a hug in greeting.

“It was good!” Rain chirps. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Good. Come on to the table. Swiss is making pancakes for dinner.”

“Yay!” Rain follows Mountain into the kitchen but Dew feels a tug at his sleeve. He looks back to see Phantom smiling shyly at him.

“Hey Bug. What's up?”

“Aurora made trips on the bike sound really fun. Can I-only if it's okay but-”

“You want to come with me next time I go to town?”

“Uh huh!”

“Fine with me. After dinner we can see if Rain’s helmet fits you.”

“Okay!”

“Hurry up you two!” Cirrus calls from the kitchen. “Sunny and Mountain are gonna eat your pancakes too if you don’t hurry.”

“Coming!”

Phantom slides into his seat next to Aurora and Cumulus while Dew sits in the spot Rain saved him between him and Aether. As the pancakes are passed around, Rain leans his head into Dew’s arm

“Thanks for today. I had fun.”

Dew slings an arm around Rain’s shoulder and kisses his temple.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Going Steady?

Crowley x GN!Reader

Synopsis: GN!Reader comes out to Crowley as gay, and it comes to light that Crowley was rather interested too.

CW: coming out and the familial issues and tensions that can come with that, there is kissing but no genders are used, nor is the reader identified by any pronouns.

Requests are: OPEN

You’d been chewing on this for quite some time. Stewing in the anxious broiling bubble of your identity for years all by yourself. You’d come to the realisation you were gay many years ago. It wasn’t necessarily a relief or anything. It just felt like you, because, well- it was you. Plain and simple.��

You were gay.

Coming out to your parents had not been as successful as you hoped, and you hoped that one day they’d come around and realise that love is just love. And if they wanted you to be their child, well, they just had to love you for who you were. Because you were done hiding. And quite rightfully too. 

The next person you had on your list to tell was Crowley. A red-headed temptation, he was. Gangly and confident. There was just this way about him that was so alluring. He’d drawn you in immediately, and captivated you with his stunning grin and gorgeous eyes. It really was a shame he hid them so often. 

And it was as you stood outside the door to his flat, palms sweating and deep breaths failing you that you started to wonder- was this a mistake? Oh, who were you kidding? Crowley was suave, confident, and so unapologetically himself and you could not bear to lose him. 

This was particularly the case because for the longest time since you’d met him really- you’d had a crush on him. And how could you not? He had the perfect balance of effeminate and masculine energy and was just- so comfortable in his own skin with his self-expression. It was gorgeous to see, to be honest. 

“Hello? You right, love?” That oh-so-familiar voice asked, snapping you out of your daydreams. How long had you been standing there? How long had Crowley been standing there with the door open watching you that closely? Even in his own home, he wore sunglasses you noted.

“Hi, Crowley- yeah, uh, I’m fine,” you said a little too anxiously. Crowley’s brow furrowed in concern, and he ushered you into the flat. It was a very minimally decorated flat, but the blacks contrasted nicely with the few statement pieces he did have. Crowley took your jacket, his finger trailing down your arm softly as he did so. Whether it was intentional or not was too hard to tell. You only knew that the small amount of contact set your skin aflame. 

You took a deep breath. 

“You’re worrying me a bit,” Crowley said, placing your jacket over the back of the chair he was leaning against. Always so comfortable, even when he was worried. “Mm- well, you’re always worrying me, but this is different.” You sighed, rubbing a hand down your face in frustration. Why was this so hard? And even worse because your previous experience had been so… underwhelming in the ways you’d hoped it would not be.

“I spoke to my parents the other day,” you said carefully, each word plucked from the aether with deliberate thought. 

“Mm,” Crowley responded. Well, grunted, really. You knew he was eyeing you incredibly carefully under those sunnies. You could also tell he was itching for a drink, but his facial expression gave nothing away. He was good like that. Very hard to read. 

“I talked to them about, uh, something that’s been… bothering me.” “Right.” 

In some ways you wished he’d just… ask you straight. But you knew he wouldn’t. That’s not Crowley. You had to get there yourself. He would never be the kind to coddle something out of someone. You had to tell him a thing because you wanted to, and not because he wanted you to tell him. 

“-and it didn’t go so well,” you supplied. Deep breaths. You could take your time, Crowley wouldn’t rush you. The being in question leaned his hand up to rest his chin on his palm, waiting ever-so-patiently. “And I wanted to tell you too, but, I’m- I don’t know how it’s gonna go.” 

“Only one way to find out,” Crowley responded, brows pulling downwards. Whatever this was, he could tell it was scaring you. 

This was it. This was the time. You were about to come clean and tell him who you really were. Give him a piece of yourself to treasure or tear. 

You’d had your own thoughts about his sexuality as well, of course, but you’d never asked. How would one ask that, anyway? Hey, uh, by the way- I was just wondering… are you gay? Not an overly eloquent way to find out the answer to that burning question, but even so. 

“I mean, well, it’s not what it is that’s bothering me, you see,” you said, anxiously fiddling with the ring on your finger. “It’s the, well.” You bit your lip. “Well, it’s the telling that’s the bothering bit. You know what I mean.” 

You barely take a second to take another breath before barrelling onwards with your word vomit. 

“It’s just, this is really- it’s not a good time, and I don’t really know how to say it and-” Crowley’s hands are suddenly on your arms, bringing you out of your freak out and back into the present. He’s taken his sunnies off at some point in the last thirty seconds, and is looking at you with such concern it almost hurts. 

“Just say it,” he says softly, giving your arms a comforting rub. “Whatever it is- just… just say it.” 

“I’m gay.” 

There it is, those two words laid bare for Crowley to do whatever he wants with them. Will he tear your soul a little more, or will he help mend the rift that’s begun to tear at you since your conversation with your parents. You are completely at his mercy, and that’s terrifying. 

“Ohh, thank fuck-” Crowley finally exclaims, relief flooding his features. You didn’t notice just how stressed he looked before. “Is that all? Oh, my dear,” he brushes his thumb across your cheek reverently. 

“Don’t listen to whatever your family says. We’re all damned in the end, may was well make the most of it.” 

You cracked a ghost of a smile. Knowing he was so understanding meant the world to you. Knowing he knew how you felt, well, that was something else entirely. There was just… one thing left, really. 

You loved him. And you really rather wanted him to know. There had been flashes here and there where you thought- just maybe, he felt the same. Those moments were few and far between, and they were always gone almost as soon as they were there in the first place. Not that you thought Crowley was hiding how he felt, just… he wasn’t very good with emotions. 

You leaned into the touch of his fingers against your cheek, and let out a little sigh of relief. 

Crowley makes a sound. Not an unusual sound for Crowley, given he makes weird sounds of self-expression daily, but this was a little different. Like he was going to say something but just couldn’t let the words out. 

“And, well, uh- do you have anyone you fancy then?” He asked pointedly, almost as if he was trying to seem uncaring about the whole thing. You hummed in vague approval, eyes locking onto the swell of his cheeks. Your gaze travelled up towards his eyes, taking in the look you found there. “Care to share?” He asked casually, eyes boring holes into yours. 

You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously. This was… oh, this was awful. It was the not knowing that was the worst. 

“You first,” you replied, lips spreading into a wicked little smile. “Oh, well-” He protested, gaze breaking away as he considered your words. “Well, that’s not fair, is it? I asked first.” 

You shrugged, acting innocent. 

“Well-I mean,” he started again, clearly struggling. Ah, so he did know how it felt when the shoe was on the other foot. “Oh, hmm, right…” 

“I- are you okay?” You asked, real concern starting to brew and broil at your stomach. You’d just mean to tease him a little. “Crowley, it’s- it’s okay.” 

“Oh, for fucks sake,” he rushed out. 

It took a moment before you realised that Crowley’s lips were on yours, moving passionately and yet also desperately against your own. The sound of shock and surprise that escaped you was quickly swallowed, and Crowley’s tongue slipped past your lips to mingle with your own. 

You groaned into the kiss, reaching your hands up to wrap around his neck. Crowley chuckled and pulled away, teeth nipping at your bottom lip causing you to gasp with pleasure. 

“Oh, Crowley, you are devilish,” you said, cheeks going almost as red as his hair. 

“Mm, aren’t I just.” 

You pressed your head into his neck, licking and kissing down the column of Crowley’s throat. You had to struggle to pull away from him. God, his skin was pretty. He was pretty.

“I take it, this- uh, this means you want to-” you cleared your throat nervously. “Go steady, then?” 

You hoped he’d say yes. For years, you’d wanted him. And not just for a good fuck (though that would be nice too), but you wanted it all. The picnics in the park, food fights in the kitchen, growing plants together because neither of you could afford kids… or even to live, basically, in the current state of economic decline. You’d even once fantasised about throwing popcorn at each other while watching a movie. 

Suffice to say… you had it bad and waiting here for an answer to that blasted question, well, it was doing your head in. 

“Go steady?” Crowley repeated quietly, softly. You watched the gears turn inside his head, thinking it all over. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”

“Oh,” you reply, not really sure what to make of that. “Is-Is that a no, then?”

Crowley seemed to snap back to himself then, and gave you one of his signature grins.

“Oh, darling, no,” he brushed his finger over your jaw. “Steady it is. You’re all mine.”

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

on our fates alight -- disobeyed

[content warning: blood, violence]

[Heavensward, takes place after roadblocks ]

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

The roar of a crackling fire pulled Riven out of a dreamless sleep. For several moments she stared up at the wooden beams in the ceiling above her, trying to get her bearings.

Where…am I?

The last thing she remembered-

Painpain-somuchpain—oneminuteshewasflyingandthenextshewasn'tithurteverythinghurtandshewasfalling—

An impossibly large dragon falling from the sky, a bright blue hole in its breast—

Hey! Hey! Stay awake!!

Everythinghurtandsomebodywasyellingatherandthevoicesheknewthatvoice—

An elf with white hair and red aetherical lines on his skin, panicked gray eyes looking down at her—

A woman clad in golden armor with a spear, her ice-blue hair long and flowing—

Halone.

Riven's eyes widened as realization hit her. With a sharp breath she bolted up, only to utter a sharp cry and clutch at her chest—there'd been a holeaveryBIGHOLEINHER— Panting, she pulled at the tunic she was wearing and peered down—

Nothing. Smooth skin, nothing in-between her breasts. Riven sagged in relief, lifting her head. Then she winced, the sudden movement was making all her muscles complain, but she'd rather that than a hole in her chest. Her eyes took in her surroundings—a large fire blazing merrily on the other side of the room, the stone walls and tables with potions and other supplies…

And the trio of elezen who had just entered the room. One was carrying suppression-cuffs, another was carrying a muzzle, and the last was holding a burlap bag. They stared at Riven, who stared back at them.

"Mathye, you're barely functional!" Artoiel exclaimed. "None of you are!"

"Where is she?" The priest ground out. He felt like absolute shit—magnified even more by Halone's own exhaustion as well. Augustine looked just as bad, but he was determinedly making his way to a nearby table where several potions awaited.

"The last I checked on her, she was still sleeping and in bed. Which is where you should be!"

"Where is she?" Mathye repeated. "And for that matter, where the hell are we?" In the back of his mind he could feel Halone starting to reassert herself—but her own intentions were crystal clear, she needed to see the young Dominant too.

"This is the Hospitalier infirmary. She's here as well, but in the Knight-Dragoon ward." Artoiel answered. Augustine was waving off Haurchefant, breaking the seal on a rejuvenation potion and lifting it to his lips.

"For the love of the Fury—sorry milady— will you not—"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!!" A high pitched scream of terror ripped though the air, cracking everything that was glass. Artoiel, Haurchefant, and the other guards cried out and clapped their hands over their ears—but Mathye and Augustine as one, immediately knew who it had come from.

The girl! Halone cried. Fresh energy from the potion and adrenaline surged in Augustine—bleeding over into Mathye. Both men bolted for the door, the raw aether of the cry heavy in the air, turning into a trail that they could follow. Augustine let himself fall back to let Mathye take the lead, he knew the path to the Knight-Dragoon ward and it's layout. Around them healers, their assistants, patients and guards were all reeling from the scream. Some were still clutching their heads in agony, others were regaining their bearings. Dimly Augustine could hear shouting behind him—but that didn't matter, not right now, not right now! He followed Mathye though a set of double-doors, up a flight of stairs and down a hallway that had several forms lying on the floor—and the sound of a struggle coming from the furthest room.

She'd only been able to scream once before the trio was upon her. Desperately Riven fought back, kicking, clawing, biting—she'd been able to draw blood from one of her assailants before he threw her across the room. The brunette hit the floor, fresh pain exploding though every muscle in her body. Dazed, she could only lie there before the men were on her again, one seizing a wrist, the other suddenly blocking her field of vision with the muzzle—

"Move quicker! That probably woke up the fuckin' half-breeds!" One grunted. Riven sucked in air to scream again—but then the muzzle was on her, a bit was being forced inbetween her teeth, and then existing became pure agony. The first cuff clamped down on her skin, followed by the bite of the second, and then it was impossible to think, let alone breathe. Riven's vision swam as she was pulled up to her feet, but her knees buckled and she fell. One of her captors cursed, grabbing her by the tunic collar once more. His face was twisted in anger as he loomed over her, his breath foul—

And then suddenly his grip went slack. Red bloomed in Riven's vision—a small fountain of it. It was coming from the man's neck—or rather the spot where his head had used to be. The brunette watched—it felt as if she was looking on from a distance—as the body collapsed in front of her. A scream—that rapidly turned into a gurgle made Riven turn her head—and she watched as the body of her second assailant was impaled on a icicle. Behind her, the third elezen dropped the burlap sack.

"L-L-Lady Fury! No! Have mercy, please! I-I only was-I was forced into—" Another gurgle. Riven blinked, her body swaying. Dimly she could register cold on her skin—and a woman's voice, lifted in a snarl.

Get those cuffs off her!!

And then Riven knew no more.

Haurchefant froze at the entry to the room. Behind him, Artoiel came to a stop, his eyes widening.

"Fury have mercy." He whispered. The room was a bloodbath. Augustine and Mathye were both standing over corpses—one in particular looked as if he'd been sliced in two lengthwise. Both men were semi-Primed, their clothes were crimson, and it was very clear who was controlling their bodies.

"Fuck." Haurchefant whispered. Augustine's head turned towards him, eyes glittering bluish-yellow.

"I gave orders for her to be left alone." A Temple Knight and a healer were at the strange Dominant's side, the healer pulling off a pair of aetherical cuffs. The brunette woman snapped awake, her body arching as she dragged in a deep breath. Aether surged in the air, and the Temple Knight started work on removing the muzzle that had been tied to the Dominant's face.

"What in the seven hells happened?!" Artoiel demanded. He spun around, watching as more healers and guards swarmed the fallen men that were on the hallway floor.

"Someone disobeyed me." Mathye's voice was distorted from Halone bleeding through. The cold air that radiated off him and Augustine was beginning to form frost-patterns on the wall, the fire starting to flicker as the chill sank into the logs.

"My lady!" Haurchefant dared to move forward. He didn't flinch as two pairs of bluish-yellow eyes locked onto him. "Please, do not spend yourself any more like this. Think of your recovery, and their own!" He shot a gaze towards the younger Dominant, who had passed out again.

"I will take her into my care at Camp Dragonhead."

"No." Artoiel interjected. "We'll take her to the manor. She will be well protected there, my lady. As will you and yours." Halone said nothing, watching the two for several moments. Then Augustine and Mathye's bodies sagged, the frost-lines and aetherical glows of the semi-Prime starting to vanish from their skin. Mathye's legs were the first to give way, and he collapsed to the floor. Augustine followed, his sword clattering to the ground next to him.

"Don't feel well." He whispered.

"We need more healers!!" Haurchefant shouted. He hurried into the room, Artoiel moving to catch Mathye before the priest toppled over onto the floor. Augustine tiredly watched the silver-haired elezen drop to his knees next to him.

"Get her…" He slurred, gesturing at the other Dominant. "Get her…and my brother…" It was very hard to think now, let alone speak. Halone had already fallen unconscious, and the darkness that had taken her was threatening to pull Augustine under.

"You're all going to the manor, don't worry about that." Haurchefant accepted a mana potion, breaking the cap and lifting it to the paladin's lips.

"Get…get them…" Augustine's voice trailed off as the potion filled his mouth, and all he could do was drink greedily. Then the room spun, and the last thing he heard was the elezen shouting orders.

----

(#on our fates alight is the tag if you want to read more of the au!)

[hunters-vigil]

'may we meet again under a lovelier sun...'

summary: After everything that has happened, you can't just let Jeht walk away. Reader is not the Traveller.

Jeht is canonically a lesbian, this traveller in this specific story is Aether (for the in-game ending, since Jeht has a crush on Lumine (and sees Aether as a friend only) and the reader might not stand a chance there... although Jeht has two hands, anyway-). Reader is written intended to be AFAB/female/sapphic/it's not super specific but this fic is sapphic intended.

warnings: talks of blood, injuries, death, murder, genocide (the tanit)

The blood was beginning to dry onto your skin. Jeht told Paimon to hide, to not ruin her white clothes, while she, Aether and you were left to deal with the incoming attack. Jeht and Aether took down most of them, seeing how you were holding back, but you didn't think they'd... the entire Tanit, the believers of the long deceased Goddess of Flowers, Nabu Malikata, were all gone.

The sun's rays on your skin shifted from a comforting warmth to a painful burn, your eyes glassy as Jeht embraced Aether first, fighting back her own tears as she moved to embrace you next.

For a moment, your arms were frozen, but as she began to pull away, you forced them to move, holding her close. You could still hear Tadhla's voice as she chose to die by Aether's blade. Even as you cried, catching her body before she hit the ground, begging for her to hold on. Liloupar's words had you sobbing. Tadhla had chosen to die as a friend to you both, rather than live as a falcon, hunting Aether by order of her father.

Aether hadn't even blinked when he saw you holding Tadhla's feather in your hands that night, staring at it, then the stars above, as if you were hoping she was up there. He only shushed Paimon from saying anything, watching you worriedly as you rolled over onto your side to hide your sobs.

Dehya and Candace had warned you before that the desert was cruel, but you hadn't truly realised how much, until now.

Jeht pulled away, getting ready to embark on her journey. Whatever she said, you couldn't hear her, not even as Aether offered you a cloth to wash the dried blood from your skin.

It was only when Jeht began to depart from your group that you snapped.

"May we meet again under a lovelier sun..." she spoke, while Aether and Paimon spotted Benben emerging from the ruined camp, you raced forwards.

"No!" your broken cry making the eremite girl stop in her tracks, but she didn't turn around, only looking down as you tripped over your own feet in your frenzy.

"Please-" Jeht struggled, it was taking all of her to walk away from the only people in the world she had left who she could trust.

"No, I can't let you go. Not like this- that woman sent word of your betrayal to every nearby eremite, you have no supplies, your weapon is broken- I am not letting you walk to your death, Jeht!" you begged, almost dropping to your knees out of desperation as Jeht's eye covering was beginning to be soaked in tears.

"Aether's journey is not over yet-"

"I'm not saying you eventually travel with us to Fontaine, you're free to choose but right now, please just come to the teapot with us so you can heal your wounds and figure out your next move, please. But, if you don't want to..." you let out a sigh, wiping at your face hurriedly.

Jeht remained still, watching you as you scrambled to get something out of your bag, "at least take this with you, it's a realm dispatch item, you can use it to come to the Serenitea Pot whenever you want. So you will always have a safe place to stay, and you will always have us to help you if you need it."

Remaining still, you held out the token like you were trying not to spook a timid baby animal, watching as Jeht slowly reached out and took it.

"Thank you..." the girl whispered, unable to stop herself as she lunged forwards to embrace you again.

Aether and Paimon exchanged glances, only nodding as Benben whirred quietly, hurrying over as Jeht eventually pushed you away, no longer holding back her tears as she left. Benben hurried after her with not even a beep to the three of you.

"Whoever is the deity of death in this world, you may have taken Tadhla, but you can't have Jeht. Not yet. It is not her time... let her rest with her parents one day in peace." You whispered to yourself, tears dripping down your face onto the golden sands.

"Come on, let's head going back to Aaru Village." Aether's hand rested on your shoulder, encouraging you to get up and head the other way to where Jeht had gone further into the desert. Her footsteps in the sand eventually fading with the wind.

"We'll see Jeht again you two, don't worry!" Paimon tried to be cheerful, but neither you or Aether spoke for the entire way back.

"Did something happen while you were in the desert?" Candace enquired much later, as she found you sitting outside the Village Chef's House, staring into space with a feather in your hands.

"It's not a threat to the village. It was... all resolved." Your voice barely audible but the Guardian of Aaru Village's ears picked it up.

"My concern is with you, are you alright?" Candace gently brushed a stray tear from your cheek, resting her hand on your cheek to comfort you.

"You and Dehya were right. The desert is cruel." Pulling your knees to your chest as you fought back the memories from those quests, unable to share with Candace anything that had happened.

It hadn't been long, but you still worried for Jeht. Deep down, you knew, if anything happened to her, you might not even find out. She would just be another body lost to the sands.

You were nervous the first few times you went back to the Serenitea Pot, hoping Jeht would be there but she never was. You spent a lot of time in the room you'd turned into a library, collating all the information that you and Aether had gathered on your journey. Every book, every note, every scroll, every map you could find.

It didn't get many visitors, especially after Aether made you shove a mattress in there to sleep, but you didn't think anyone would join you during the night. Only if Aether had a unusually bad nightmare would he wake you up, or Paimon would, if she wanted breakfast...

A tired whine escaped your lips as the mattress sank next to you, barely opening your eyes but you could recognise that scent anywhere. The scent of spices that was so familiar to you when you hugged her.

"Jeht?" you whispered into the darkness, reaching out into the dark. She placed her weapon down carefully, still on guard as Benben's glow illuminated the room, allowing you to see her. Her golden eyes looking at so you tenderly, making your heart skip a beat.

"You're okay?" you held your breath as you awaited her response.

"I'm okay." She whispered, reaching out to stroke her fingers against your cheek.

"Please don't be gone when I wake up..." you wished as Jeht shuffled closer again, Benben settling down on the floor nearby, its glow turning off as it went into its own version of a slumber.

"I'm not going anywhere." Jeht answered, her hand moving to rest over where your heart was, feeling it beat under her palm to soothe her fight or flight mode screaming at her. Despite the unfamiliarity with this realm, she knew you were there, and she had to see you.

Your hand rested over her's as you laid on your back, your head turned towards her as you closed your eyes. Jeht was here, safe. You could finally rest your worried mind and heart.

Your skin was soft, your heartbeat soothing as she continued to watch over you through the darkness of the room. She couldn't see much of it when she walked in, immediately heading over to see you, to see if you were okay.

It hurt her a lot to walk away from you, but the desert was cruel. Fortunately for you both, the realm in the Serenitea Pot had a much lovelier sun.

[moldycantaloupe]

Mushy May Day 24

Acts of Friendship

Pairing; Rain/Aether

notes; pairing is used loosely because nothing romantic happens. thanks as always to @forlorn-crows for putting together the prompts!

Aether rubbed at his eyes before he ran his hand through his mohawk. It had been a long night in the infirmary, a batch of siblings running a muck with a combined food poisoning. Human vessels and their sensitive stomachs. That combined with the double he managed to pull yesterday, he was bone dead and exhausted. Unfortunately, his shift was nowhere near over, but Omega took over the physical aspects so he could get focused on the paperwork. 

Right. Paperwork. He shook his head to get rid of the brain fuzz before getting right back into filling out patient and discharge forms, hand tangled in his hair and arm resting on the desk as he slumped forward. He had to order more supplies after, his brain unhelpfully provided, and the idea of staring at a screen with how his eyes burned did not bode well.

The door to his small office opened quietly, respectful enough to stay quiet but rebelling in coming in without knocking. He figured it was Omega there to drop off some more files to him and paid him no mind, his hand absentmindedly running through his greasy hair.

When Omega made no noise or movement, Aether finally glanced up. Instead of a bulky quint, he was met with a lithe water ghoul. He made a quiet, “oh,” and sat up straight, arm untangling from his head and folding in front of the other.

“What can I do you for, Rain?” Aether’s voice was monotone, tired. He stopped attempting to hide behind a facade ages ago when he found it made no difference whether he came off as cheery or dead; they all knew, no point in beating a dead horse.

“Just figured I’d check in on you.” Aether’s eyes caught the lunch bag Rain held between both hands, swinging it idly between them. Neither missed how his stomach growled at the sight, and Rain chuckled. “And to give you food, you beast.”

“Yes. Food.” Aether dropped his pen and made grabby hands towards Rain, the water ghoul hurrying over to place the bag on the desk. He was quick to dig through it, finding an assortment of food; a metal canister for soup, pasta, a couple bags of chips, meatballs, and a granola bar haphazardly thrown on top of it all. On the side of the bag was an energy drink, the one Dew stocks up on and rarely shares with.

“Oh Lords below,” Aether grabbed a bag of chips first and ripped it open, shoving a few into his mouth with a moan. Rain laughed harder and made themselves comfortable on top of his desk, away from the piles and mess.

“Dew figured you could use the extra ‘extra’ energy after yesterday.” Rain swung their feet idly as he shoveled the rest of the bag down his gullet. “The pasta and soup are leftovers from yesterday and today courtesy of Mountain and Aurora, the chips are from me, and the granola bar is from Swiss…” they frowned slightly, “I think.”

He held up a finger as he chewed, eyes closed in concentration and bliss. He swallowed hard and reached in for the pasta, ready for some real food.

“You all spoil me.” Aether beamed up at Rain, showing off his toothy grin, before getting right back to feasting. Rain shrugged a shoulder with a soft smile. 

“Just keeping you on track, bud.” Rain’s eyes lit up and they leaned closer to Aether, a shark-fanged smirk adoring their features.

“You will not believe what Cue and Cirr were doing today.” Rain muttered quietly, just loud enough for only the two to hear. Gossip.

“I never believe what the two are doing.” Aether chipmunked his food and stabbed his fork into more. “But I am interested.”

“Okay, okay,” Rain started, “so you know about Papa’s personal garden…”

[sangoqueenkoko]

Father here 💅

I'm requesting Childe x non binary reader (amab)

Ehheheheh yeah sorry I know you hate him

Childe coming back from getting defeated by the Traveler(up to you who beats his ass)to come home to his lover, fluff overload

IF YOU DON'T WANNA DO CHILDE, Xiao x reader (nonbinary still)

Same thing but after the chasm situation.

father‼️🗣️ hello

this is shit. sorry

CHILDE

safe retreat

Fluff

MAIN MASTERLIST | HYDRO MASTERLIST

.

Summary: Childe picked a fight with the legendary Traveller. He doesn’t care how bad it may seem, he just wants to come home to you.

Warnings? Childe nearly gets beaten to a pulp by the Traveller. His fault. Womp womp. What a shmuck. Contains a smidge of mention of blood.

Featuring Traveller (Aether) and Paimon!

“Do NOT call me that! Girlie. Ew!” Aether, the Teyvat renowned Traveller, yelled in disgust as he quickly and swiftly parried the Harbingers attacks.

“Yeah! And he’s not even a girl anyway!” Paimon squealed as she kicked her foot in the air before quickly pulling back Aether by the collar as an attack swiftly flew by Aether’s face without him even noticing.

The Traveller knew not to literally beat this guy to death because of who he’s associated with, and they could literally come after you if anything would happen to him. Well.. seeing as how no one really did much with the passing of La Signora, uh… there would be someone who would absolutely come after you and do what you did to him.. to you.

In the Liyuean countryside sat a sweet yet unquant house that held the traditional curved roof and architectural features such as patterns as well as carvings of a dragons and other mythical creatures of the nation. Each feature placed with extra precision and care. But not merely enough of care that was in said house.

Regular adventures tend to come across this house on their travels, but they never seem to know who owns the property.

But a select few did.

On the beaten path that lead towards the house, lined with Glaze Lillie’s each side, walked a worn and beaten Harbinger. Childe. A hand on his side as he had a bruised rib or something from being too arrogant against a certain someone.

He tasted iron in his mouth before coughing and spitting something out. A tooth. Oh well. Not like he needed it anyway.

He sighed as he walked to the door before he knocked. He heard some sudden rushed noises inside before the door soon flung open.

“привет, мой любимый”, he began before he was cut off by you in a panic.

“Childe! What happened to you?! Are you Okay?!” You yelped as you helped him inside, “who did this to you??”

He chuckled lightly with a slight smirk, “heh. Well.. a certain Traveller did this to me. I may or may not have gotten too brash and cocky.”

Sighing, you got the household first aid kit, which was larger than a normal households because of how prone Childe is to get hurt in fights, that he started, and got the supplies needed. Bandages, plasters, etc.

“You know you can’t keep picking fights like this. Especially with someone as powerful as The Traveller! Please be careful” you took some wipes out to clean his wounds. From cuts on his hands, his abdomen to bruises on his head.

“But I suggest you stay at home and rest to give your body a chance to heal, Okay?”

“Okay, любовь.”

“Good” you said before planting a light kiss on the side of his head, “I don’t want you to pick fights with other people, especially if they seem weaker than you. You never know their true strength.”

…

“Owww!” He complained lightly, trying to be convincing. Yet failed.

“That did not hurt” you deadpanned. You knew there wasn’t any injuries there, as you checked the area before and he didn’t react.

“It did”, he lied with a child(e)ish pout.

“привет, мой любимый” - “hello, my beloved”

“любовь” - “love”

[thegalaxysedge22]

After Ever (Chapter 5)

masterlist

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pair: sylus x MC tags/tw: violence, kidnapping, drink spiking, allusions to SA (it doesn’t happen dw), MC makes dumb decisions…repeatedly word count: 4.3k song rec: lilith by halsey a/n: guess who we're meeting hehe PSA ALWAYS KEEP AN EYE ON YOUR DRINKS!!! NEVER DRINK ANYTHING YOU HAVE WALKED AWAT FROM important: if you want to follow this fic and updates but don't want to follow me bc im annoying (understandable) check out the tag #after ever fanfiction also if anyone wants i can start a tag list

I made it, Kore thought to herself.

Standing on the outskirts of the N109 Zone, she had never been so relieved to see crumbling buildings and a street littered with potholes. The journey there had been long. Normal forms of transportation could only take one so far. The dense fog and wanderers that surrounded the N109 Zone like a moat made it difficult for just anybody to enter the city, and without the proper guidance of a local Kore had been stuck traveling on foot through the thick fog and tall grasses of the open fields.

The entire 15 mile trek had been nerve wracking to say the least, the threat of wanderers and criminals was high and had kept Kore on edge the entire time. In an untold stroke of luck, Kore somehow had managed to avoid all wanderers on the perimeter, which was shocking considering how much she had been warned about them. She just hoped that her luck wouldn’t run out now that she had made it into the safety– well, relative safety– of the old city.

In spite of the countless warnings not to go to the N109 Zone, Kore’s drive to find out the truth about what happened to her family as well as the Aether Core in her heart had driven her to come anyway. She knew that if she were to spread the knowledge that she was in possession of an Aether Core that she would end up in contact with the people responsible for what had happened to her, and if she was extra lucky she would meet Sylus, the leader of Onychinus. 

Her surroundings, despite being what she had expected, still shocked her. Everything from discarded furniture to abandoned cars covered the sidewalks, spilling out into the streets. The road was so full of debris that even if a vehicle managed to get through to the N109 Zone, it would struggle to navigate the outskirts of the territory - effectively leaving people trapped and isolated.  Needles littered the ground so much so that she had to watch her steps. Never had she ever seen something like this.

But for now she needed to change. She had been wearing her Hunter’s Association uniform in anticipation of fighting wanderers, but now that she was in the N109 Zone that uniform would surely stick out like a sore thumb.

Just last night Xavier had told her what he knew about the N109 Zone, albeit begrudgingly. He had informed her that she couldn’t just waltz in wearing her uniform as people there did not like the Hunter’s Association, as well as the locals’ tendency to open carry weapons.

Kore started to scout out nearby buildings, finding one near the border that clearly had used to be an apartment building of sorts. She took off her backpack happily as her shoulders had been aching for the past several hours. Setting the bag on the ground she rummaged through its contents finding her “incognito” outfit, which in reality was just a normal outfit with gun holsters, and quickly put it on.

The finer details of her plan may have been underdeveloped so to speak, even though she had combed through them multiple times, but she knew what to do next. She took a map she had printed out of her backpack, one of the very few she had been able to find, she then compared her location to her next objective. After spending a few minutes memorizing the way there while grabbing whatever supplies she might need, Kore decided to return later that night to sleep and left her excess gear hidden in a cabinet.

. _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ .

Navigating through streets in a place you’ve never been to without a map, relying only on memory of a street view map from decades earlier turned out to be a bit difficult. Kore was stuck at an intersection trying to remember which way to go. Her sense of direction had never been this abysmal before, her only solace was that the street signs were either demolished or so covered in graffiti they were impossible to read.

A crow squawked as it landed on an electrical wire in the alleyway above her, snapping her focus back into the moment. Right, it was a right here, Kore thought. She went right. As she grew closer the buildings surrounding her went from being in various stages of decay - windows boarded up and what she assumed were gang signs spray painted on every vertical surface - to buildings that clearly were still in use. Hints of light started to illuminate the street, showcasing the businesses that still remained, a convenience store, a liquor store, a mechanic’s garage, and even a tailor. Even though the sun had fully set a half hour ago, she saw a few people who were roaming the sidewalks off to who knows where. 

This was different from the N109 Zone she had read about, this wasn’t some dilapidated place with violence on every corner, it was clear that this was still a community that people cared about. The streets were much cleaner than they were prior, swapping the furniture for cigarette buds and the occasional scrap of cardboard.

After walking a few more blocks the increasing sounds of chatter let her know she was close, but what solidified the fact she had made it was the sign outside of the free standing building, The Nest.

The Nest was a bar deemed to be neutral territory by the cartels, even though it was technically run by Onychinus. The limited reports suggested that if there was a perfect place to plant information about an Aether Core this was it. Of course she couldn’t just walk in there and announce that she had one of the most sought after possessions in the entire zone on her body, even if it was in her heart. No, she had to be a bit more discreet than that.

Kore stopped for a moment and took a deep breath then pulled the door open. Inside she was met with the looks, and smells, of an old bar. Men were scattered throughout the room, she could count on one hand how many other women were in there. Kore does her best to match the mannerisms of the other patrons, however, it was clear to them that she was an outsider. She was a new face that nobody knew.

She took her time strolling over to the counter. Taking a seat, she waved down a bartender and got herself a cheap beer. Kore keeps her head down but listens intently to the chatter across the bar. Most of it is nonsense, drunk men drabbling on about nonsense. Some were clearly discussing something to do with the cartels, Onychinus’s name was even brought up a few times. However, what caught her attention was talk of an upcoming auction, in her research Kore had found out that these auctions were often places where protocores would be sold.

Bingo, she thought, if the aether core was going to be anywhere, it would be at that auction. And if not at least she will be one step closer to finding it. With any luck Onychinus would be there. Before she could close in on more information a conversation nearby peaked her curiosity.

“Did you hear? Sylus is back?” a random patron gossiped. Her ears perked up at the name.

“Sylus? From Onychinus? I thought he left for good, didn’t Sherman take his place?” his friend responded.

“Well, he’s back and I heard he is going to take Sherman and his men down at the auction. Also- I also heard,” the drunk patron hiccuped, “I heard that he found one of them aether cores while he was away.”

“An aether core?” Kore said out loud.

“Yes missy, an aether core, I didn’t even know if they were real, they are so rare.” Both men turned to her as he spoke.

“Well they can’t be that rare if I have one,” Kore joked, regretting it immediately. Clapping her hand over her mouth, eyes wide, she whispered “Oh shit, I was not supposed to say that.” Zayne had warned her about letting that piece of information get out and it was not like she could blame the drink she hadn’t had a sip of for her slip of tongue.

The eyes of the two patrons she was talking to went wide. She could also tell that she had pulled the gaze of a few other people nearby with that. Realizing that she had fucked up big time, Kore quickly went for the exit. 

Paranoid, and probably for good reason, she kept checking over her shoulder as she walked. She took four left turns to see that she wasn’t being followed. Although the coast seemed to be clear it was not enough for her. 

She ran towards the nearest building, climbing up its stairs to its roof top, the entire time scolding herself for letting that crucial part of information slip. It was times like these that her hunter’s skills came in handy. The streets were much easier to navigate from way up there, it was more similar to the maps that she had studied back in the city.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop she slowly made her way to where she had left her stuff earlier. She even jumped right next to a crow, sending it flying. Eventually she arrived at her destination. The first thing she did was check that all of her stuff was still there (it was), then she checked the time on her Hunter’s Watch.

The damn thing didn’t seem to work out here, but at least it still functioned as a clock. It was more than late enough in the evening to justify going to sleep, deciding that this was as good of a place as any. 

Kore stripped down to her undergarments, turning her clothes into a makeshift pillow before pulling out a thin blanket from her bulky bag - that was definitely not suited to be a pillow, too lumpy - and bunkered down for the night. 

It must’ve been nerves that were keeping her awake into the early hours of the morning, but the noise certainly didn’t help. For a place so abandoned it was much noisier than Likon City ever was at night. Wind whipped through the alleyways and into the broken windows of the building, and the animals in the N109 Zone clearly must’ve been nocturnal with the rate they are scurrying about. She tossed and turned for seemingly hours before finally being graced with unconsciousness.

. _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ .

It was nearly midday when Kore awoke, but you wouldn’t be able to tell with the lack of light. Having had some time to think about over the night before she had decided, perhaps foolishly, that it was okay that she let information about having an aether core slip. With any luck, something she was praying for, word would have gotten out about it and the people that she was looking for would come and find her. At least, that was the plan…

Outside was clouded in overcast, it was just another dreary day for the N109 Zone, something that seemed to be typical to the area. Anxiety started to bubble up in the pit of Kore’s stomach, a fear of no one taking the bait or a fear of not completing her mission were to blame, but she wasn’t sure which one. 

Luckily, her half-baked plan seemed to be working. Practically as soon as Kore had entered the Nest she felt a cold gaze following her every move. On her way there a thought had struck her, and when she walked in to see a bartender drying cups she was relieved.

Immediately she made her way over to the barkeep and plopped down in the stool in front of him. He looked up at her leaning against the bar and asked what he could get for her. She told the man to only give her non-alcoholic drinks, but to serve them in a pint glass - he didn’t even bat an eye at the unusual request, she wondered if this was a common tactic in the N109 Zone.

While downing the non-alcoholic beer She was doing her best to play it cool and seem non threatening and clueless, and also drunk. If you must fight, it is best for your enemy to underestimate your abilities, her grandmother’s words rang true in her head. She was ordering her third pint of beer loudly, hoping that the empty cups would put whoever was watching her at ease and draw them out. 

Eventually the person watching her emerged from the shadows and she had to resist the urge to smile in triumph. The man came over to her and sat down next to her casually, ordering a drink. He turned to Kore with a smile that she assumed was supposed to be charming but it came off more as revolting. His appearance overall unsettled her, he looked scrappy and sinister, there was something evil in the depths of his dark eyes.

For whatever reason, the man decided that his best course of action was to flirt with her. As he spoke she couldn’t help but wonder if there were different beauty standards in the N109 Zone because she could not see this working out for the man ever any other way, which she felt bad about thinking as soon as it crossed her mind.

The conversation between the two continued its flirtatious path for a while, too long for Kore’s liking, before the topic of the protocore trade was brought up. The man insisted that he was a well known seller- despite looking ragged in a dingey bar- and he was looking into buying more of the rare kind. 

It was then that Kore’s pint had run dry and he jumped at the chance to buy her a drink, a potent cocktail. The bartender raised an eyebrow seemingly asking if that would be okay with her, a nice gesture certainly but Kore was still a bundle of nerves and worried that he would blow her cover. As covertly as she could she signaled back that it was okay, the barkeep shrugged and made the drink then and there, sliding the cocktail across the bar to her.

Kore took a few small sips of the drink holding back the urge to wince from the strength of the alcohol. The creepy man looked very pleased with himself now that she was drinking it. Deeply concerning to her, but she needed to play along. Before she could dwell on that any longer the unnamed man said what they were both waiting for.

“Have you ever heard about aether cores?” he asked, finally bringing up the topic that 

“Don’t tell anyone this,” Kore said, forcing her face to blush. She leaned in closer to the man, “but I actually have one.”

Out of all the creepy smiles she had seen that man make all night, the way he smiled upon hearing that was the most haunting. Before she could dwell on that image, mother nature started calling and she excused herself to the restroom.

Her entire journey there she kept an eye on the person she left behind and saw him fiddling with a small vial nervously. The bartender must've seen that too because he took her drink and pulled it close to him, keeping it in his sight and out of the creep’s reach.

In the bathroom she tried to calculate the next best move. If he offered to take her somewhere she wasn’t sure what would happen. On one hand he looked weak enough that she could take him in a 1v1 if it came down to that, but on the other there is always the risk of more people being involved. She also knew that he likely had ties to at least one of the cartels and she needed to climb that totem pole to get to her target, so going with him might be the fastest way for her to gather intel, however, she couldn’t decide if she could go through with that.

Hands on the sink, she stared herself down in the mirror for quite some time. She couldn’t lose her nerve now, it was much too late for that. Besides, she had always been the type of person to just wing it and so far it hasn’t failed her yet. Kore possessed an incredible gut instinct and had all of her life, it frequently saved her when she was out in the field fighting wanderers. She just had a gut feeling that she would come out of this alright, well mostly, all she had to do was listen to her gut. With one last reassuring glance in the mirror, Kore walked back into the bar.

On her way back to her seat, Kore spotted the creep she had been with all night leaning far across the bar when the bar keep had his back turned to the man. She knew what he was doing. This isn’t good, she thought to herself. 

Forcing herself to plaster on a fake smile, Kore sat back down, the bartender sliding her back her drink. The drink that she watched get spiked. Looking back between the man and the drink, the wheels in her brain turned, weighing the consequences of her next actions.

“Something wrong?” the man asked, an anticipatory smile adorning his face.

“It’s nothing,” she waved him off. Stupidly, she refused to let go of her earlier resolve, Kore eyed the drink with skepticism before throwing it back. She tried to be mindful of how much she consumed but the alcohol from earlier was clouding her judgment.

Whatever he put in there hit her hard and fast, she barely noticed her leading her out of the bar and towards a car. She could feel the rain coating her face outside. With each step she was dragged along for she could feel herself sinking more and more until she eventually collapsed on the street. . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ .

Her head hurt. Kore’s thoughts were all jumbled as she came to. She found herself trapped in the back of a musty trunk with her hands tied. Everything is hazy and confusing and it felt almost out of body but different, as if the body she was out of wasn’t even hers to begin with. 

Just as she was about to pull the emergency release latch, the trunk opened on its own accord. It was dark enough out that her eyes didn’t need much adjusting to understand the picture in front of her. Looming over her was the man from the bar, the one who spiked her drink. He was now wearing a dark baseball cap, as if he believed that would hide his identity should anyone come looking.

She recognizes where she was at, the kidnaper stopped outside of an old abandoned graveyard. How thematic, Kore thinks, if this is my end at least I won't have to go very far. 

The man yanked her out of the car, and she crumpled to the ground, unable to hold her own weight. She had made a dangerous miscalculation. She had grossly underestimated whatever drug the man slipped to her. Realizing, finally, just how dangerous of a situation she was in, Kore started to panic.

What is this man going to do to me? What has he already done? Oh god I’m fucked. This was a bad idea. I should've listened to Xavier or pretended to drink what he spiked at least. 

The man, seeing his victim squirm like that, smiled dementedly. Crouching down to her height, waving his gun in her face he said, “Don’t worry princess I ain’t touch you yet. I got no time for that now. Now hand over the aether core and this will all be over.”

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a trail of thick black smoke appeared, closing in on them. The man looked as if someone had struck the fear of god into him, as if he knew what was coming next. 

“Kidnapping Onychinus’s prey without letting us know…” a disembodied voice trailed off, “...That’s not exactly polite now is it?” The voice taunted. Kore’s kidnapper was rapidly turning his head at every faint noise he heard.

“She’s ours,” another, slightly similar but distinct voice said, “We called dibs a long time ago.”

With that, two figures emerged from the smoke… that was now also red? Kore was confused, she must’ve been seeing things. As the two silhouettes came into view she noticed odd bird looking masks covering their faces. 

“You know, you’re pretty bold for releasing information about the aether core in the nest like that,” one of them started, addressing her.

“Explains why boss is interested,” the other one finished the train of thought. Creepy. 

“I see… Sylus sent you,” Kore’s kidnapper said, putting on a brave face, but with the way his voice was quivering he wasn’t fooling anyone. He trained his gun onto the two of them, going back and forth between them. “But the aether core is MINE!”

Just like that the man was lifted in the air by the oddly colored smoke, his gun falling to the ground.  His fighting was useless as it only seemed to anger the smoke, if that was even possible, and it slowly enveloped him.

What the actual fuck is going on here? Kore thought to herself.

Another figure bloomed from the smoke. This was of a tall man with white hair. The two guys from earlier were nowhere to be seen. This new man approached her with slow and steady steps. Kore knew things were out of hand and worse yet she could feel consciousness slipping away from her.

Oh fuck, I am not as in control of this situation as I thought I would be. Desperate, she reached for the gun that fell pointing it at him. This man had the audacity to laugh at a gun pointed at his head.

“Is this how you greet a new friend?” he asked, his voice low and dark. The mystery man reached down and plucked the gun from Kore’s weakened hands. Fuck, this drug is affecting me a lot worse that I thought, Kore thought bitterly to herself.

Kore, who was fighting tooth and nail to stay conscious, glared up at the man. A head splitting pain wracked through her skull as they made eye contact, the man grabbing ahold of her upper arm and pulling her to her feet.

“You-you’re here for the core too, huh?” Kore slurred out. 

“What else would I be after, Kitten?” the man asked with a sick smile. 

Black spots started to appear in her field of vision and Kore knew she wasn’t going to last. The last thing she heard was a shot ringing out as she fell to the ground and her eyes fluttered closed. . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ . _ .

When she was asleep like this, her child-like innocence on display, it was clear to Sylus that she was the same girl he had known growing up. Her features were more angular now and her hair was darker than he remembered, but this was definitely the same Kore.

Her once sickly pale skin now showed healthy signs of sunlight, he was glad to know that she had been able to truly escape the hell they grew up in, but that didn’t stop the bitterness deep in his gut. After all this time he wasn’t sure why Kore and Caleb got to escape while he was left behind.

He had never been close to her when they were younger, no, he had been closer to Caleb instead. The pair of them had been nearly inseparable during their formative years whenever they were allowed to interact with one another. A strange mix of emotions had overtaken him over the past few days, it made him antsy and irritable.

On occasion he had spent hours sitting at her bedside and staring at her in disbelief. Other times anger had consumed him so thoroughly that he could not stand to look at her or even be in the same wind as she was. It was in those times that he had the twins watching over her.

Sylus had always wondered what had happened to Caleb after he left, and to a lesser extent Kore too. When he got word that Josephine was the one who took them in, he decided to spare her from his wrath, deciding maybe she wasn’t so bad afterall. The others had not been so lucky.

There was also the matter of the unusual attraction he had felt towards the sleeping woman, it was like a magnetic pull that he hadn’t experienced before. He knew that she was also the unwelcoming recipient of an aether core fragment, but couldn’t help but wonder if they shared parts of the same core. There was only one way to know for certain, they had to resonate, but there was no way to do that while she was unconscious, so for now the answer was stuck in a waiting game.

He wondered if she had any memory of him or if she knew about the aether core planted inside of her at all. He wasn’t sure how he would react in either case. Would he be happy that someone else could relate to his suffering? Would he be sad that she was cursed with remembering too? Would he be bitter if she didn’t remember him at all or would he be relieved that she had been spared the memory of their traumatic childhoods?

He sat at his desk, toying with a paper weight, lost deep in his thoughts when Mephisto alerted him that his next victim had arrived. Sylus let out a bored sigh before following the mechanical bird into the throne room. He had always found it to be a bit tacky, but it was important to keep appearances up if he wanted to accomplish his goal.

a/n: did you guys see that one coming? also i don't really proof read so lmk if anything sounds insane pls

Next >

[theendisneat]

Ladyhawke

Pairing: Xiao x gn!reader Warnings: Slight body horror (animal transformations), angst, injury Word Count: 5713

The traveler only ever called for Xiao when it was absolutely necessary, not wanting to impede on his work or step on his toes. Considering he has enough visible stress to be worrisome, Aether refused to regulate the man to backup by his side ‘just in case’ something went wrong, no matter how safe that would make him feel.

It is currently an emergency.

Aether had been peacefully collecting ingredients for the monstrous amount of food he had to make, mainly for Paimon’s never ending stomach, when he had been ambushed by multiple geovishaps. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, however, in the middle of dodging the rolling boulders, a swarm of hilichurls and mitachurls had come to join them, swinging their little clubs, firing those annoying elemental arrows, and attempting to bash him with their heavy shields. 

If Aether still had his natural abilities, the ones that had been locked away from the moment he woke on this planet, this situation would’ve been close to nothing for him. Unfortunately, such was not the case.

The combination of attacks from all sides left him dizzy as he tried to defend himself from everyone, but it was far too overwhelming. The clubs beat at his stomach and legs, the arrows constantly nicked his arms, and at one point even his neck, leaving him with traces of cryo and electro uncomfortably scattered all over. It took more concentration than he’d like from him to dodge each rolling vishap and swing from the mitachurls’ rock shields.

It was a slam to the side from one of the vishaps, sharp spikes of rocks cutting into his side alongside the brute force that had him gasping for breath, when he finally groaned out Xiao’s name, clutching his bleeding skin desperately. 

Arriving in a flash of green light, Xiao slashed at the closest monster, his polearm carving a deep cut in the creature’s abdomen that had it crumbling to dust. Flashing from spot to spot, expression unchanged from its stoney glare, Xiao mercilessly destroyed each creature. 

When he was finally finished his eyes flicked to Aether with something akin to concern. Grabbing onto the traveler’s upper arms, he helped the man sit on the bumpy ground. 

“Do not move.” Xiao ordered. “Your injuries are serious.”

“I figured.” Aether groaned again, his breath hitching with every twinge of pain. “I’m too far from the harbor. How am I going to get a doctor?”

Xiao’s brows pinched. “Do you not carry medical supplies on your person?”

“Not enough to help me right now.”

The bleeding was getting worse, dripping down his side and sinking into the whites of his clothes, turning them a stark, ugly red. The patches of cryo and electro that stuck to Aether’s skin, growing from the little cuts made by the arrow tips, were spreading, making it difficult to move his neck.

“I could bring you to a doctor through the wind though I am unsure on whether or not your body will be able to handle the strain-”

A lilting chirp broke both from their conversation. From the sky came an ethereal, glittering bird. With a slim yet round body, like that of a pheasant and long, colorful plumage of bright oranges, blues, pinks, and greens, creating a strangely contrasting yet appealing sight. Its form was graceful, gliding through the wind as if it was floating, merely being carried along by a current. Light bounced off the creature’s feathers, reflecting the rays of the sun in a way that made it look as if it was covered in gemstones.

The bird lowered until its dainty claws were resting on Xiao’s shoulder. Though fairly large, it seemed to bear no weight onto the adeptus, simply nuzzling the man’s cheek with a startlingly gold colored beak. Its eyes were a flaming red and focused only on the one it landed on.

The bird clicked its beak, somehow giving off an air of disappointment as its feathers ruffled before smoothing over.

“I apologize.” Xiao spoke, in the most sincere voice Aether had ever heard from him. “A friend called for my aid.”

The bird clicked disapprovingly and turned its shining eyes on Aether instead. Floating down, it hopped around Aether’s tired body, inspecting it from top to bottom, looking closely at his wounds. 

“May you go get us a doctor?” Xiao asks.

The bird chirps once more, and with a nip to Xiao’s cheek, flies off, its long tail plumage brushing against Aether’s cheek.

“What was that?” He asked breathlessly, the wound on his sides having him gasp for air.

“A long time companion of mine. Don’t worry, they’re very fast and they’ll get a doctor on time.” 

“How long have you known them?” Aether looks over to see Xiao’s face, a mix of complicated emotions flashing across his features.

“For as long as I can remember.”

-

Sneaking through the foliage, Alatus tried to keep his steps as quiet as possible. He winced with every brush of his hair against the leaves or every crack of a twig under his foot. Finally making it to a break in the trees, he let out a breath of relief and stepped into the clearing.

Surrounded by looming trees of dark wood was a little field of Qingxin flowers, the air almost cloying with a light scent. It calmed his mind to be here, waiting silently.

Arms slid around his waist, strong and sure. A chin hooked over his shoulder and a warm breath tickled his ear. A kiss was pressed to his temple.

“Hello Alatus.”

He shuddered in their hold, leaning back against their chest. His face was turned away from them to hide the bright redness that riddled his cheeks. “[Y/n], it’s entirely unnecessary to announce yourself to me like this.”

“Oh come on, love. I cannot tease you? Not even when we are alone?” Hands traveled down his sides, petting his waist and squeezing his hips.

“[Y/n]!” He shook out of their hold, whipping around to face them. An infuriating smirk was on their lips, one that had his stomach rolling, and their eyes were glimmering playfully. 

They chuckled, deep and amused. “I’m sorry, love. Won’t you forgive me?” 

Alatus scoffed at the sight of [Y/n]s eyes twisted into that of a puppy dog, begging and shining. “No, I do not forgive.”

“Alatus! Please!” They whined, stepping forward as if about to hug him. 

He stepped back and they continued until [Y/n] was chasing him around the clearing. Round and round in a circle they went, careful not to trample on the swaying Qingxins, but hands grabbed his waist once more and lifted him in the air. He yelped as he was manhandled, instinctively wrapping his legs around [Y/n]’s waist as they wrapped their arms around his own waist. His hands rested on their shoulders, fingers scrunching the coarse fabric of a working robe. 

Alatus glares down at his lover, pinching their cheek in a way so soft it couldn’t even count as a reprimand. “You are too shameless! Lifting me like this! Do you think I am a toy to be played with?”

They hummed. “Well, you are certainly small enough to be one.” They chuckled as Alatus flailed, attempting to kick the back of their knees.

“You- ridiculous-” Alatus was too flustered to function, brain shorting out and face as red as a tomato.

He plopped his head on the other’s shoulder, the fight finally leaving him when all his kicking and annoyance did nothing to shake their hold. He felt that breath next to his ear again, warm, sending shivers down his spine.

“I’m so happy to see you, my love. How many months has it been since I’ve gotten to see you face to face?” Their voice was tender, full of longing despite the fact that Alatus was in their arms, practically snuggling into them.

He understood their distress, he felt it too. Their affair could never be public, a servant of the cruel god that ravished the land and a pathetic human that tilled the earth for a modicum of grain to feed themselves and the little ones of the run down village at the bottom of the mountain. No, it could never be exposed. 

Alatus could only imagine the harshness that would rain upon his lover if their union was ever to be discovered. Cruelty of the most disgusting kind from his God- no, his owner- in the form of torture, perhaps whips and chains, branding irons and starvation. Alatus could think of a number of ways his owner would destroy the soul of the one holding him in their arms.

Truly, he should let them go. He should have never lowered his spear when he first encountered them, robes worn and dirty, a slowly breaking wicker basket in the crook of their arm. ‘They’re for the children’ they had said, ‘the little ones of my village hardly get any happiness and I couldn’t help myself when I discovered this little patch of flowers. They’d make such great flower crowns, you know?’

His traitorous, romantic heart thudded. His grip slackened and his spear fell to his side. ‘Do not make a habit of coming.’ He had scolded. At the time, this had been the spot he would run off to whenever his owner got upset, frustrated, with any situation. It was not difficult to trigger his temper, and with his temper came his venomous words and harsh hands. He had not wanted anyone else to frequent the one place he could get away. ‘Stay in your village, or I will use more forceful measures to keep you away.’

Oh, what a fool he was. He should’ve known that he had presented a challenge when that, now familiar, smirk appeared on their face. ‘We’ll see about that.’

But now, though he knew- he knew- he should have never started this relationship, he could not regret it. The times they had met in the clearing after that, the teasing and playing, the dozing and stargazing. How could he come to regret those times? How could he come to regret the conversations under the blanket of a warm sunset, where the days had been too much and he spoke about not only the cruelty he was under, but the cruelty he engaged in?

He could not begin to regret the times that they had held him, wrapped him in their comforting scent and simply listened. Listened to him cry about how much he hated himself, hated his owner, hated the world and the gods and the very ground he walked upon. They stroked his hair and pressed kisses to his forehead, never letting him go or pulling back in disgust. His prickly temper never put them off and he was always so grateful for their patience.

Similarly, there were bad days for them too. Days where taking care of their little village had been too much. Being one of the only able-bodied adults in a community of the elderly and children orphaned by other feats of destruction done by the gods, much responsibility fell on them to farm, to care for the children when other could not, to learn to sew and cook when the elderly’s joint could not handle the fine motions. 

They felt helpless on those days, helpless and guilty. The pressure of having to take care of everyone and still have the kids who died of infection or starvation, the old men and women who laid dead in their homes for a few days before anybody noticed because they could not check up on everyone all the time.

Their broken voice when they admitted to hating themselves for bothering Alatus with their problems when he had much more going on. He put a stop to that line of thought very quickly.

Then the years passed. Their meetings had never been consistent, but they had been frequent, and Alatus began to feel the urge to love them differently. To have his hands roam across their body, pressing into sensitive places. To cover them in kisses and bites. To cherish them and hold them in their darkest hours and brightest days. 

He could recognize it as more than friendship and was relieved [Y/n] could too, accepting his affection and giving back their own tenfold.

They were not shy with their affection. Alatus showed his love for them in more subtle ways that helped him keep his face from bursting, and he was content knowing they appreciated the gestures, but there was nothing Alatus could initiate that was quite like what they were doing now.

Concealed in his lover’s arms, his legs around their waist, squeezing them together. Little kisses being littered on his reddened cheeks, their voice so full of concern and love it made his heart burst.

“Too long.” He replied back. “Four months since we last saw each other in person.”

They hummed contemplatively, knocking their forehead lightly against his. “Any recent injuries? Lasting pain?” 

He was about to shake his head no when the little cramps in his back and stomach decided to act up, irritating the already sore muscles. “Cramps.”

[Y/n] lowered them to the forest floor, spinning him around so he was still sitting in their lap but his back was pressing against their chest.

“In your back, as usual?” Their lithe fingers began to swiftly press along the plains of his back forcing small grunts of pain past his lips.

“And stomach.” He couldn’t see them nod but he knew they heard. 

He sat there silently, as silently as he could be, as they kneaded into his back, working out the several knots and pains. Their gentle hands slid to his front, working out the pain much more delicately than they had the back, something Alatus appreciated when he realized just how much more painful his stomach was than his back.

One particular knot had him curling over, whining. A kiss was pressed to the back of his neck, the fingers eased from the sore spot. 

“Bad one?”

“Yes…” His voice was breathy. He sighed and uncurled himself, leaning back into their embrace. “Thank you. I feel better.”

“I’m so delighted that you feel better, Alatus.” 

Alatus felt [Y/n] tense around him, holding him even closer to their chest in an instinctive act to protect him. He shuffled in their hold to look over their shoulder. His veins turned to ice when he saw the shadowy figure creeping along the edge of his safe haven.

Licks of dark shadows followed the pale, bare feet of the cruel god. Robes as dark as the night swished around thin ankles. The draping fabric clung to a tall, lanky body. Pin straight black hair fell to the being’s waist, cut strands framing an angular face in a strange contortment of amusement and anger.

Alatus felt himself shaking, felt his arms going around [Y/n]’s head in a useless attempt to cover their face, as if he could shield them from the tyrant standing only a few steps away.

“My Lord, I-”

“Now isn’t it strange that I find my most diligent, incredible warrior cooped up in this little meadow with a peasant when he told me he was going to check over the prisoners he had helped me capture and torture just last night?” Alatus flinched at the wide smile, thin lips pulled back to reveal sharp, monstrous teeth.

“Lord, please-”

“Truly amusing, I’d say.” The god’s voice was lilted, almost joyous. “I never thought my little fledgling would dare lie to me so brazenly.”

He was frozen in fear and from the feel of it, so was [Y/n]. Their arms were stiff around his body. They weren’t shaking but they were so still that Alatus could think of them as a statue. 

“Come here, Alatus.” Hand held out as if a cocky noble woman ready to receive a kiss from a bumbling fool, the god was patient, waiting, expecting. 

Shakily, he tried to stand, but firm arms pulled him back down. A whisper so quiet he nearly missed it. “Don’t go, you’ll be hurt.”

“We will both be hurt if I do not. Let me try to save you.” Alaus murmured back. Quickly breaking out of his lover’s hold, despite the desperately grappling hands and hissed ‘no’, he walked forward to stand before his owner.

Swallowing his pride, Alatus kneeled down and bowed further than he would to anyone else, kowtowing before the god. “Please My Lord, I have made a mistake in lying and not informing you of my true whereabouts.”

He made sure to sidestep saying that he simply made a mistake, implying his lover as part of the mistake. He could never do that and it seems his owner noticed it too.

“Is that true, my fledgling?” A hand was in his hair, cold and indifferent, just nearly tugging on little knots. It moved from his hair down his back, petting his spine in a way that had him shivering with disgust. “You made a mistake? Are you willing to correct it?”

“...Yes, Lord.” He could hear the hesitancy in his own voice.

“Really?” The hand finally stopped, resting on two vertical lines that stretched through the middle of his back. “Alatus.” The fake teasing was gone, voice flat. “Bring out your wings.”

His breath hitched. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Lord?”

“Bring out. Your wings. Alatus.”

Alatus let his wings unfurl from the scars that hid them. Bright and golden and beautiful, they stretched far longer than they might’ve needed to, almost engulfing Alatus in their glory. The feathers trembled, his hands clenched so hard, if not for his gloves, his palms would be indented and bleeding.

“So glorious. It’s such a shame you no longer deserve them.”

Alatus could not see what his owner was about to do, though he could guess, but he did feel the sudden weight on his back. [Y/n]’s long hair falling around his head like a curtain, their arms going around his waist and their forehead pressed to his nape. 

“Please… please… don’t hurt him.” Their voice shook, whispering. Their hold was uncomfortably tight and no matter how much Alatus squirmed, he would not be able to break out of their arms without hurting them.

“What a passionate display of love.” His owner’s voice was littered with jealousy. 

Alatus was suddenly free of the weight on his back and twisted around to see his owner holding his love by their hair. Beautiful strands tangled in needle fingers. Their eyes were screwed shut, hands grasping the god’s wrist.

Alatus felt frozen, limbs locked into place, eyes widened with terror. “Lord, please…”

“Please, please, please!” The god groaned. “That is all I have been hearing! Please what, Alatus? Certainly you are not going to beg for this pathetic creature’s life?” 

His lover winced with every gesticulation, hair pulled left and right with every wave of the god’s hand. Their eyes were open now, tears falling down their cheeks, their irises looking crystalized. 

“No,” the tone was thoughtful, a hand going to cup a chin. “Maybe I shouldn’t kill them. No, that wouldn’t be very fun, too simple.”

His lover was dropped and his chin was grabbed instead. Harsh nails dug into the skin of his cheeks and his head was tilted back uncomfortably.

“No, I think I have a perfectly suitable idea for punishment.” A fingertip was pressed to his forehead and he immediately felt a searing pain across his skin, burrowing deep into his mind. It dripped down the back of his neck, along his arms and torso and leg, lighting up each nerve in his body like fire.

Alatus collapsed, his body cradled by the soft grass as his fingers twitched and muscles spasmed. He resented his inability to move, that he was forced to watch his owner glade across the meadow to his fearful, shaking lover. 

They too had a finger pressed to their forehead, but unlike Alatus their bones began to shift. They cracked and snapped and poked through their skin, the skin itself shrinking and tightening over the broken bones. Growths began to appear and elongate, blooming into bright, colorful feathers.

Their screams haunted Alatus's ears as their body compacted into the shape of a pheasant, sleek and undoubtedly beautiful. Their feathers glimmered from the sun spots that dappled through the trees. 

The bird, the Fenghuang, that was once his lover lay limp in the grass, wings spread out like exhausted limbs. Alatus crawled to them, arms trembling so hard it was a wonder how he hadn't collapsed. He cradled their body in his roughed gloves. Eyes wet with tears that couldn't fall from sheer shock alone.

“What… what have you done to them?” His voice scratched, defeated and broken.

“Oh I just gave them a fun little curse. I gave it to you as well.” The god chuckled at the vicious glare Alatus sent. “Don't worry, the curse won't prevent you from doing your duties.”

Alatus curled his body over his lover protectively, wrapping his wings around himself to completely conceal them from view. He heard his owner huff with amusement, heard the hem of a robe brush against the grass.

“Perhaps this will encourage you to use your common sense, Alatus. I consider myself a forgiving person, so take this punishment as a learning experience.” Eyes narrowed into a glare, lips pulled back into a snarl. “You are lucky I did not kill you both.”

And soon, Alatus was alone in the clearing once more, his rough hands and gloves doing their best to delicately hold his lover, now trapped in the body of a Fenghuang.

-

Alatus stayed in that clearing for the rest of the day.

Once the shock had worn off, the tears finally fell. Crystalline droplets slid down his face, staining the Fenghuang in his arms with little spots, dampening the vividness of their feathers. It crushed his soul to hold them close to his chest but feel so completely disconnected from them in a way that had never happened before.

Alatus barely noticed their eyes fluttering open, their feathers rustling as they woke. It isn’t until he hears a quiet caw that he notices their movements. He looks down, watching them squirm in his hold, shaking.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers, bending over them. “I did this to you.”

He feels their beak against his face, nipping at the skin of his cheeks. From how they lay on their back, their claws reach up to pull at his clothes as if in protest to his statements. He can only curl around them further in a vain attempt to protect them from what has already been done.

-

When the sun begins to set, the clearing fills with shadows and Alatus feels strange. He had been holding his Fenghuang for how long he had no idea. But now his chest constricted, his skin feeling too tight over his bones. He gasped, choking on his words as he tried to speak.

He staggered away from the Fenghuang, watching with bleary eyes as they fell to the ground, fluttering their wings to balance themselves. They look at him with something he thinks might be concern before a loud screech leaves their beak.

Far faster than the first time it happened, their body constricts, transforming into a human form. Their eyes were wild and fearful, hands scrambling to push themselves to their feet. They stumbled over to Alatus as he hunched over in pain, their legs working like that of a newborn fawn. They collapsed at his side, hands going to his shoulders.

“Alatus?” They whispered. “What’s wrong, are you hurt?”

He chuckled lowly, his face pinching when a wave of pain traveled from his chest to his limbs. “How can you be so concerned for me after what just happened to you?”

“I had a little time to come to terms with it over the past hours.” 

He laughed again, leaning into their touch, gazing at them with loving eyes. The pain flared again and he fell onto his side. He pressed his forehead to the dirt, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut.

His bones break, one by one. He feels them snap out of place and reform. His wings spasm, curling and flaring and twitching violently as they shrink alongside his body. His skin prickles, an itch that erupts into pain when feathers peek out from his skin. He cries out, but he vaguely realizes it sounds more like the call of a bird.

His vision whites out, but when he comes too, he realizes how strange his body feels. He’s off kilter, the weight of his wings are wrong, the stretch of his legs is wrong. He tries to reach out to his lover, to calm their wide eyes, but he finds a golden wing stretching out instead.

‘A bird.’ He thinks. ‘I am in the form of a bird.’ A beautiful, golden bird with slim, shining feathers and the body of a phoenix. Long feathers sprouted from his head and tail, making him look particularly regal and expensive, like a prize one could only dream of finding. His talons were sharp, digging into the dirt.

“Alatus…” His lover whispered, their voice almost reverent. “I know this is a poor time to say this, but you are very lovely.”

His feathers fluffed up and he screeched. His claws shuffled and his wings ruffled. He hated how obvious his fluster was, even in this form.

His lover only stares at him with sad amusement, a small smile on their face. They held their hands out and Alatus waddled over, sitting in their palms. They lift him up and place him in their lap, their hands gentle.

“So this is the curse.” They mutter. “Once one of us turns human, the other will turn into a creature. We may never be human at the same time again.” Their brows furrowed and they began to gently get his back. “But what do you suppose causes the change? Is it when we are a creature for a certain amount of time?”

Alatus looks to the sky, his beak nipping at the air. [Y/n] follows his gaze seeing the moon now resting comfortably in the dark sky surrounded by stars. “We began to change at dusk. You think I’ll change again at dawn?”

Alatus chirps, nuzzling his beak into the crook of their neck, the only form of comfort he manages at the moment.

They sigh, their eyes lowered. “I guess we’ll figure it out.”

-

Figure it out, they did.

When dawn had come the next morning and the shift had happened again, they lamented the few precious minutes they got to spend with each other as humans. Minutes spent kissing, apologizing, hugging, and forgiving, until [Y/n]’s form crumpled and they became a Fenghuang once more.

The years ahead were not kind to the poor lovers. Alatus, still under his god’s control, struggled to continue following commands, hurt and anger and hatred weighing in his eyes every time he was in the same room as the god. The one mercy given was that [Y/n] was not killed, and would not be killed. Instead, they were allowed to accompany Alatus as a companion, even on the battlefield.

The two worked as a team. During the day, the sparkling Fenghuang was used to transport messages, spy, and claw out the eyes of any opponent that dared attack Alatus from the back. During the night Alatus joined them as they took care of their village and occasionally bent to the desires of his master, no matter what those orders may be.

The worst nights were when his master would have him called into the throne room and perch on the arm of the disgustingly gaudy throne. Cruel hands would pet him oh so softly before plucking out his feather, forcing him to cry out in pain, and cruel eyes would gaze at him mockingly, a lust set deep within every time a feather was pulled.

Their savior and downfall came in the form of Rex Lapis.

The archon war had truly come to their doorstep when their half-wit of a master chose to challenge Rex Lapis. They had no illusions over their god’s power. There was enough power to keep the lovers suppressed, to lord over others and enough to develop a healthy arrogance, but there was not enough to challenge the one they had heard so much about. An intelligent, diligent war god, with ruthless, true technique. By this time in the war, thousands had fallen by his hand and thousand more were sure to come.

Alatus stood in a field of dry, dead grass, the sun beating down on his back and [Y/n]’s nervous talons clenching on his shoulder. His spear was in his hand, his knuckles, white and his master’s cold and cruel laugh rang through his ears as he was forced to face off against the god alone.

Alatus looked to his lover. Over the years, their silent communication has grown, always having to communicate when the other was an animal. Alatus could see the nervousness, could feel the tension and fear. He nodded his head, a signal that he would start the fight.

His lover nodded back, and with a quick nip to his ear, they took off into the sky. He took merely a second to admire their beauty as they glided on the air currents, the sun speckling off their feathers.

He rushed forward, his spear clashing against Rex Lapis’s own. They fought, dancing around each other as weapons sparked from the intensity of every collision. Bruises showed up quickly, though not on the god’s body. Alatus only got more battered as the fight went on, no match for the imposing figure knocking his spear away with precision.

When his tired arms went lax, his fingers almost losing their grip, a strong thrust from his opponent’s spear nearly met his heart if it wasn’t for [Y/n]. With a loud screech they dove from the sky, landing on the spear and pushing the metal into the dirt. They pushed off the handle, their talons outstretched, and aimed right for the god’s throat.

Unfortunately, in the body of a simple creature, they were not fast enough for their talons to reach their intended target. A swift backhand from Rex Lapis had them tumbling through the air, landing roughly against the course dirt.

Alatus dropped his spear and ran to them, the orders from his master and the fight against Rex lapis fleeing his mind the moment he saw them hurt. Though it was not the first time [Y/n] had been injured in battle, it was the first time they had been up against an opponent so powerful. There was no telling how much force Rex Lapis had hit them with.

Alatus fell to his knees beside the still body of his lover. Eyes frantic, he looked over every part of their body, only relaxing a bit when he noticed the shallow, but steady rise and fall of their chest. He cradled them, pulling them to his chest.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Rex Lapis approaching, a distant fear settling in the cavern of his chest. His form was so similar now to when he first held [Y/n] as a Fenghuang, curled over their body, his back left defenseless.

He heard his owner scream at him, telling him to stand, to fight, but with each step closer Rex Lapis became, he relaxed. He supposes he should be horrified by the thought of dying, that his instincts should be kicking in and he would pick up his spear and fight until his last breath. Alatus couldn’t muster the strength. Perhaps it would be nice to die, for [Y/n] to die, and their souls could be reunited in the afterlife and they could once again hold each other, kiss and speak to each other. 

He bends over further, almost like a rabbit bearing its neck to a ravenous wolf, but Rex Lapis did not look ravenous, more confused. 

The god held the tip of his blade to Alatus’s neck. “You surrender?”

“Yes.” He rasped. “Just make sure it's painless, for them.” His gaze abandons the god and is once again captured by the form of his lover. Since he was going to die, he would rather do it while looking at them, the most beautiful being in the world.

When Alatus didn’t feel the sting of metal, he jerked his head up only to see Rex Lapis stalking towards his master. The fear in his master’s eyes as the god, the truly formidable god, slashed, and then it was over. The pathetic squirming and pleading stopped, body hitting the floor, and eyes marbling.

Alatus could only stare in shock, body still. His god, his master, his owner, lying in a pool of his own blood, red as ruby, dead. The one to give him and [Y/n] their curse, and the only one who could break it, dead.

In that moment, when Rex Lapis offered asylum, safety, in return for loyalty, Alatus couldn’t help but despise him.

-

The years blurred after that.

The end of the archon war, gaining his anemo vision, Khaenri’ah, the deaths of his brothers and sisters, the present. He flowed through it, [Y/n] by his side, the only thing still keeping him sane, tied to Teyvat.

Now, he sat next to the traveler, pressing onto his wound, making him stay awake as [Y/n] got a doctor.

The traveler, Aether, was a kind one, a friend. One of the only people he felt he could be somewhat vulnerable around besides his lover or Rex Lapis. It was a terrifying feeling, opening up even after all he’s lost, but the traveler felt right, a good one.

He could only hope that Aether only brings light into his and [Y/n]’s lives, instead of the morose air of their lives now.

And perhaps, he secretly hopes that Aether holds an ability that can break their curse.

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

Blondes Have More Fun

Notes app idea: "Dewdrop, Cumulus and Sunshine as the biggest troublemakers at the Abbey, and also the worst drain-cloggers. Swiss calls them the dumb blonde brigade one day, and they cock-block him for week."

Chapter 1/2 wc: 1491/? Rating: M (eventually)

Read below or on AO3!

Without any exaggeration, they were menaces. To everyone in the Abbey, ghoul or otherwise, Dewdrop, Cumulus and Sunshine were the closest things to demons raised from the pits that they were supposed to be. Not evil by any means, but the trio of ghouls still took pleasure in making the lives of everyone around them just a little bit less convenient every day.

Dewdrop was summoned first, a well-mannered water ghoul albeit with an independent streak a mile wide. He hadn’t caused any problems until his elemental transition, but the Dewdrop of before and after was like day to night. Gone was the little ghoul, who gently teased his packmates and ended every conflict with a hug, and here to stay was an infernal fiend with the desire to make the Ministry pay for all the pain they had caused him and his pack. He had started off strong, “testing” his new elemental abilities by melting through the water pipes directly above Imperator’s office, and setting fire to a closet of antique vestments.

Cumulus was summoned next, alongside her Mate, Cirrus. While both ghoulettes had quickly established themselves as sociable and friendly presences amongst their packmates, Cumulus was far less concerned with ensuring order in the den and far more interested in enjoying every second of her time topside. Unlike Dewdrop, Cumulus was well-liked by the Siblings of Sin. This was mostly due to her incredible light-fingeredness, and subsequent generosity, when it came to the Abbey’s liquor supply. She had quicky formed a close bond with Dewdrop, the pair ensuring their packmates stayed on their toes.

Sunshine was also quick to embrace their mischief-making. She arrived in a burning flash of light, and her presence continued to be as dazzling ever since, bringing an unbridled joy for life to the pack not seen since before the banishings. Immediately latching on to Cumulus and Dewdrop, the pair took upon themselves to unlock the full potential of their new protégé.

The little trio of ghouls had made it their goal to sow chaos throughout the Abbey by any means necessary. Much of the time this was as simple as trying to spook new Siblings from dark recesses within the cloisters, eyes glowing menacingly from inside black robes. They had branched out into more elaborate pranks however as their positions became more secure after Copia’s first, hugely successful, tour as Papa Emeritus IV.

Leaping out from dark corners had turned into staging hunts of Siblings through the grounds, causing senior clergy to tear their hair out in frustration as they struggled to identify the culprit behind the latest terrified wreck of a Sibling. Aether had obviously suspected them, and had tried having stern words about filling the infirmary with unnecessarily scared humans, but to no avail.

When it came to their Papa, they could have gotten away with actual murder if they wanted, one of them only had to bat their eyelashes to achieve forgiveness. Dewdrop had delivered a perfect masterclass in this after Copia tried to reprimand him for switching the goats blood and red wine for Black Mass. He had ended up with a larger recreation budget for the pack, and an apology for not better understanding the emotional needs of his ghouls.

But mostly, the three ghouls liked to prank their own packmates. They had started with an easy target: Rain and his quasi-religious beauty routine. The triple-threat of kool-aid in his shower head, switching his lotion with mayonnaise, and putting popping candy in his exfoliant had landed them a stern talking to from Mountain while the irate, pink-tinged water ghoul had glowered at them, his mayonnaise-scented tail lashing angrily behind him.

After they got yelled at by an exasperated Cirrus for once again clogging the plumbing in the ghoul wing (“It’s got to be one of you three, I’ve been scraping blond hairs out of the pipes all morning!”) following a long morning – and afternoon – of plotting in the giant shared bathing pool, they had switched Cirrus’s boots for an old pair of Sunny’s, the size difference just enough to cause her some mild discomfort and ensure she moved at half-speed all day and hampering her usual military efficiency.

The final straw for Swiss came one day after a whole evening of extra cleaning duty due to someone rubbing soap along one of the corridor floors, causing a five-sibling pileup. He returned to the den to settle down for the night and watch a nature documentary with Phantom, one of their favourite little routines.

“Which one do you want tonight Starburst?” he asked, crawling into the pile of blankets Phantom had arranged on the bed.

“Can we watch one on Eevees?” Phantom asked, gesturing to the cartoon creatures emblazoned on one of the blankets in the heap.

“You mean the Pokémon?” Swiss asked cautiously.

“Yeah, Rain was telling me all about how the different types evolved, how they all have different elements like us!”, Phantom looked up at Swiss, wide violet eyes gleaming with interest.

“Bug, I’m not sure there’s a documentary on them, seeing as they’re not real…”

Phantom sat up straight, turning their whole body to look at Swiss in horror. “What do you mean, not real? The others said…” they trailed off, looking at Swiss like he’d kicked a puppy. Swiss could see the hurt flashing behind their violet eyes, and shook his head gently. Phantom was well known to be the most gullible ghoul in the pack, probably in the Abbey, and Swiss knew how insecure they were about it.

“They did?” Swiss growled. “I’ll be right back Buggy, just going to get us some snacks.”

Swiss stormed off to the den where he was sure he would find the reason(s) for this latest miscommunication. He threw open the door, and found his three main suspects lolling across a sofa, all as high as kites.

“Heey Swissy, come to join us?” slurred Cumulus, almost falling off of the sofa as she waved too enthusiastically at him.

“Yeah, we’ve set Mount’s phone to correct “ok” to “yes Daddy” and he’s trying to text Copia in the group chat!” giggled Dew, his bloodshot eyes full of tears of laughter at their latest escapade.

Swiss was not in the mood.

“Which one of you fuckers told Phantom Pokémon were real?” he snarled, “It sure as hell wasn’t Rain, and you three are all perfectly aware that they’ll still believe anything you tell them, like that time you told them hot dogs were made of real dogs, or that time you said birds weren’t real, or–”

“Ooo who told them they weren’t?” interrupted Sunshine with a slight hiccup, before Swiss rounded his fiery gaze on her.

“I just did. And now they’re upset and embarrassed again, and it’s all you fault!”

He stomped over to the kitchenette, and wrenched open the door of the snack cupboard. At least he could bring Phantom some of their favourite m&m cookies.

And of course, they were gone. There on the coffee table, along with the remains of the rest of the trio’s haul, was the empty packaging.

“Oh for–” Swiss was close to tearing his hair out in frustration. Trying to argue with these three when they were stoned was like debating a brick wall. “Look, I don’t care if you think this funny, the rest of the pack and the whole Abbey is getting pretty fed up with the Dumb Blonde Brigade. You’ll get yourselves shipped off to the pits if you keep acting like this!”

“What did you call us?!” Dew hissed, stumbling blearily to his feet, “The Dumb Blonde Brigade?”

Swiss folded his arms in front of his chest, as Dew lurched towards him, pulling himself up to his full height, eyes just about level with Swiss’s chin.

“Yes, big guy?” Swiss smirked down at him. Dew crossed his arms, matching Swiss’s stance, and puffed out his chest.

“You’re gonna regret calling us that.” Dew informed him, raising his chin defiantly. Swiss watched his bloodshot eyes drift in and out of focus.

“You tell him, baby!” Cumulus hollered from the couch, before falling back against Sunshine in another fit of giggles.

“Sure I’ll regret it. Probably not as much as you’ll regret stealing Mount’s good stash when he catches you though.”

Swiss turned on his heel and stalked out of the den before waiting for a reply, the jeering of the other three ghouls following him down the corridor.

He re-entered his room, plastered a smile onto his face, and focused on taking deep breaths to calm down so the anger rolling off him in waves didn’t upset Phantom’s delicate Quintessence senses.

“Sorry Bug, we’re all out of cookies. I swiped us this though?” Swiss brandished a pre-roll he’d pilfered from under the noses of the others. “What say we find an episode about one of Rain’s fucked-up underwater cousins and smoke this ‘til the walls start breathing?"

[scholars-of-nym]

Day 10. Stable

After Setoto was cured, it took a while before she was ready to learn magic again. That didn't stop her from researching theory, however, and both Surito Carito and Alka Zolka were more than happy to supply her with books - both contemporary and Nymian theory. Comparing them was incredibly fascinating, but for now, Setoto focused on arcanima taught in the arcanist's guild.

Alka Zolka watched her train, straining to bring out her magic. She was trying out one of her own old tricks - bring out a little magic light - using the arcanist's grimoire. "Why don't you just go straight to Nymian tecniques?" he asked, curious.

Setoto let go of her magic with a little sigh. "Well," she said, leafing through the pages of the book, "That's because the arcanist's basic spells are actually easier and more aether-efficient than scholar's basic techniques." She pulled out another book, one seemingly far older, and put them together. "Here, page one. Both of these are diagrams to summon a little ball of light, but compare the arcanist's book with the scholar's grimoire."

She was right - while the scholar's grimoire's calculations seemed intricate but powerful, the arcanist's book was smaller, more compact, and lighter. "You conserve aether by modulating your aether output. I asked Surito about it, too, he said that in this case, the scholars didn't think it'd be necessary to include such a thing."

"Huh." Alka looked thoughtful. "How fascinating." He looked at the arcanist's book again. "Oh, have you tried summoning a carbuncle?"

She shook her head. "My aether is barely stable enough to summon this little light." She hesitated. "I'm also… a bit frightened. What if there will be more adverse effects?"

Alka put a hand on her shoulder with a reassuring smile. "I'm sure that wouldn't happen. Of course, proceed with caution, don't over-extend; but I have faith in you. I know you can do this."

Setoto smiled back, nodded slightly. "Thank you. You're right, of course." She grabbed the arcanist's book again and leafed through to the page describing the summoning spell. It was far more complicated than the little ball of light - but Setoto's eyes glanced over the page, and Alka saw that she understood nevertheless. He smiled, proud of her.

Setoto closed her eyes and started the summoning spell. She could feel her aether rage within her - while the cure calmed it so that it was nothing like when she was a tonberry, she could still feel how it felt, like a dark shadow. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on the spell, willing her aether to be calm, more stable. A sudden wave of aether overtook her, and she flinched, ending the spell with a small yelp. "Ah…"

Alka was by her side in a second. "Setoto! Are you okay?"

"Ah, yes, I'm fine." She gave him a warm smile. "I'll… I want to try again."

This time it felt far better. Now that she knew more what to expect, she re-did the spell - and with a quiet 'ding', she was able to summon a carbuncle! Setoto grinned happily, and Alka cheered for her. "Ah, you did it!"

Setoto nodded. "I'm glad." She sighed in relief. "Ah, maybe this means that my aether is stable enough to try summoning my father's faerie again!" Setoto's eyes glittered with hope. "Oh, I must tell Surito about this!"

Alka grinned. "I believe in you, Setoto."

[pokeglitchden]

⏮️ {{ May I please request something about his early days as a scientist, or what first got him interested in Glitchmon? }}

((//Hell yeah!! This is a cool prompt!!))

The first Glitch Pokemon they'd brought into the Lab was a 7g. They were introduced to it, not by name, not with a rundown of the Pokemon's likes and dislikes and temperament.

Instead all they supplied them with was a number, and a warning. These were not "Pokemon" in the traditional sense, they were warned. Division H's higher ups made it clear what was going to be expected of them. Observation, documentation, and care taken not to grow attached.

When Simon signed on to be part of the newly formed "Division H", part of an initiative towards Glitch Research he hadn't been sure what to expect. He had a minor in Computer Sciences from his Undergrad, and that seemed to be enough qualifying experience to land him on the team.

He couldn't have known what to expect. Up until that very point in his life he'd believed most writing about anomalous Pokemon, and the various ways they broke the laws of physics and good sense, were nothing but mythology...

He'd believed that. Until he saw one staring him in the face.

"Is.. this supposed to be a Pokemon?"

His co worker just shrugs as she prompts him.

"Just read the file off the Sheet"

"Subject 001- 7 g. It is a water/psychic type, pink coloration, DNA sourced from Slowpoke to create a hybrid. It is... dear Arceus how am I supposed to describe this?"

At the time it very nearly seemed to defy description. A gigantic, pink Pokemon, with a long, thick body. It looked a little like a slowpoke if you squinted. If a Slowpoke was twenty feet tall and had no face to speak of. It didn't seem to be all that active, just laying there, a vaguely melodic tune playing gently as it sunned itself.

Simon didn't really want to go near it. Not at first. This was so much more than he'd expected out of Glitch Research. Was this what they meant? Pulling giant, anomalous pokemon out of the aether and exposing the world to them? What did this mean? Were there more creatures like this?

Were there ones more dangerous than this?

When it flicked its ear, and turned its giant, featureless head towards Simon, he'd at first backed away. There was no way, no *possible* way, that this creature, this anomaly, this Thing could be a pokemon.

He barely stammered out his description into the recording.

"It is... large. Larger than a slowpoke, and denser. It has a longer body, and a smaller head. And it sings? I think you can probably hear it singing..."

It took a long time for his heart to stop pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. A long time to steel himself enough to get in front of that pokemon and try to issue it a command in battle. It was giant, but gentle. Slow moving and unbothered by him. The first glitch Pokemon he'd ever encountered up close.

And the whole while that he worked with it, it sang, and never once complained.

And maybe then it was fine that it didn't have a face. By the end of training that day, there was only one thing he could conclude about his time with 7g.

This too, in spite of everything his superiors had told him, was definitely a Pokemon.

[mealvaan]

Two Heads are Better than One

Vahri'a's picatrix was lain amid the unwashed ceramics, a small stone keeping it spread flat. It hadn't been cleansed in a while, and some of the inkwork had worn with time and friction, for Vahri'a had stopped using it as a grimoire altogether last year. However, there was the occasional spell of use that remained within these pages and not yet on his skin. This was one of them.

He worked his fingers over the geometry, his own latent aether to the page. With the flick of his wrist, he pulled in a touch of the signature aether from atop the neighboring plates, funneling it into the equation — then the splay of his hand dissipated it in completion of the spell.

"Now it'll wash off easily," Vahri'a demonstrated. He lifted the plate vertically, picked up the basin, and ran the water over its surface. The once-stuck morsels were swept away in the current, leaving the ceramic plain and clean. He handed it to Mana.

"You can do this with ephemancy?"

"With arcanima, yes."

Mana took up the remaining plate and washed it off, then stacked the two parallel on the drying rack.

"Whew! Thank you. I'll need to learn that one some time," she said, then tapped her chin with a curious index finger. "I wonder if you could modify that spell so that it just removes the stuck-bits entirely…"

"Arcanist spells primarily work for non-living matter, save for spoken humors which we understand quite intimately. The once-living and the living are the realm of the thaumaturge and the conjurer respectively," Vahri'a was quick to answer in what Mana knew to be his 'teacher voice', though he cleared his throat out of it. "But, I don't see why it can't be done. All things are made from aether."

"Exactly," Mana said, brandishing a wooden spoon like a wand. "If I knew the alchemical composition of the food, surely I could factor that into the spell?"

Vahri'a had never thought of this key interaction between three seemingly adverse disciplines: alchemy, the culinary arts, and the magic of arcanima. Visorless, Mana was rewarded with the rare sight of her cousin… impressed. Speechless, even.

"Can I take a copy of this spell?" Mana asked, breaking the silence and picking up Vahri'a's picatrix.

"Ah, it's a little complex. Let me make a copy for you," Vahri'a offered, gently taking his book back.

"At least let me supply the aetherial ink, then. That's expensive."

"I have more than I would ever need. Consider it a gift."

"You've already done me enough favors."

The ambient sound of water crashing against bathroom tile occasionally interspersed their conversation, and had become welcome background noise at this point. What perked both their ears was a hum — coming from behind the thick washroom door, T'orii hummed a momentary ditty. Either she had forgotten entirely that the two were just outside, or she knew and didn't care.

"Our song of hope, she dances on the wind… higher, oh higher…"

Vahri'a's heart thumped and thawed.

"I know how I can pay you back," Mana chimed. She was looking at Vahri'a, who had been looking far away. He knew immediately what she meant and his ears braced to the top of his head, yet she spoke it all the same: "You've a brilliant mind, Vahri'a, but in the Goddess's name — let me help you with the matters of the heart."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Back in Everkeep, Ish'kirya thought he had the best bedroom setup achievable to man. It was a massive project he undertook when he turned twenty-one and finally started earning his own money (the True Vue way), when his first cashed check was lush.

Oddly, Ish'kirya was inspired by the luxury pod hotel he stayed at. It was a rare visit to the 4th Level, and he hadn't expected there to be amenities of any sort on the production floor, yet it seemed like those who worked in the factories stayed late oft enough to require such a thing.

By the time Ish'kirya had finished with his bedroom, it was the pod's concept taken to new levels of comfort and automation. Everything predicated on a pre-programmed 'morning time'.

Half a bell before the morning time, the room would gradually fill with natural ambient sounds — miscellaneous bird calls, the gentle rustle of wind through leaves, and a dash of white noise that helped everything blend together (and leave out unsightly audio blemishes).

A quarter of a bell after that, the room would slowly introduce a golden glow, starting from the gradiated strips he placed on the floor and slowly rising to the ceiling, until the whole room was bathed in faux-sunlight.

Once the scheduled time hit, the birdsong would hit its apex in a much more forgiving alarum, and a beam of sunlight would soak in over his face from a carefully placed electrope light. The upper half of the mattress floated up and forward, while the latter stayed steady; the bed would prop him up in a reclined sitting position, the perfectly placed eye-beam moving with it, and he'd wake to a synthetic sunrise.

By the time the project was done, his room was a holy sanctum, the comforts of which had never been achieved even by the Residential Sector commissioned for millions of credits by Praxis Park. He achieved it himself, and that was the beauty of Alexandrian society. Everything was by design. There were no gods. Only mankind could determine what was best for mankind.

Ish'kirya awoke in the Sheshenewezi Springs inn room. Sunlight filtered through the dilapidated window as distant, uncurated birds called — eagles, he thought. He still lay vertical, but the sun beam hit his eyes anyway. Rubbing stardust out of his eyes, he sat up, awake.

Huh.

He didn't like looking at his face in the morning light, ignoring the mirror entirely as he brushed his teeth and splashed his cheeks with lukewarm water. How he missed closets that would cycle outfits out for him, mists that tacitly applied his lotion, primer and foundation.

Truly, Ish'kirya couldn't be bothered with any of it, and he got right to the meat of the day. Straight from the sink, he sat at the bedside bureau. Little pieces of electrope were undergoing delicate engravings with a needle and pocket knife. He had a nice laser cutter that he used to hook up to his computer at home for electrope matters…

"You're up early," grunted Iron Lotus, who finally awoke. Ish'kirya turned around. He was still getting used to seeing her without her helmet, before her own morning ritual.

"Woke with the sunrise. What can I say?"

"You say a lot. Is the levin rod ready then?"

"Nope. A little bit of patience goes a long way, you know." It was taking longer than he expected, though he'd never admit it in so many words. Lotus stood and took a look at his workdesk. He looked up at her expectantly, hoping his return-fire gaze would deter her from watching over his shoulder.

"You're working with a pocket knife?"

"There's a needle here too, if you look with your eyes."

"Mm."

"What? Use your vocabulary," he scolded, turning his chair all the way around. "We're not fuckin' lush on tools, you know."

"There's probably something better to use."

Ish'kirya hated these vague sentiments. His mothers were big fans of them; nudging him in an indeterminate direction, expecting him to get it with the faintest 'suggestions' of advice and patting themselves on the back for words that barely counted as hints. He gave Lotus a withering look, but her back was turned. Great. He'd be passive aggressively nudged to success from—

"Here."

By the time he turned his back, Lotus had approached him. Between fur-lined digits was what Ish'kirya could only describe as a tiny spear (he had seen the like in RPGs); a thin implement with a bladed edge on the end, sharpened to a tight point. The whetting wasn't even, but the end was precise enough despite the more than apparent handmadeness to it.

"What's this?"

"Scalpel."

Ish'kirya took it into his own hands and twirled it. A scalpel, she said. He tested it on the side of the desk, watching it curl up a wood shaving in its wake.

"Cool."

Lotus said nothing. They weren't the type for please's and thank you's, between Ish'kirya's brash demeanour and Lotus's unapologetic silence. Despite how far behind Shaaloani was, it possessed of niches that Ish'kirya hated to admit he needed. Perhaps he would learn to find it enough.

"How long will it take?" Lotus broke the silence.

"I'm a getting tired of this 'are we there yet' routine, you know. It's giving three-year-old."

Lotus stared dead at Ish'kirya, then made her way downstairs for breakfast. Truly, the preferable means of communication between them was non-verbal.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Red's night terrors, regrettably, had become a natural alarum for Imogen at this point. She awoke to his scream with a jolt still — that much hadn't been blunted and desensitised, yet — but she relaxed easier than she did the first time, her hands ghosting over Red like a shawl.

"Red. It's me," she said no louder than a whisper, and clinically shook him by the shoulders. It was a gentle jostle, like riding a chocobo carriage on an uneven road. She modulated her voice to rise slightly with every "Red", until she was speaking at normal volume (which, for Imogen, was anyone else's outdoor voice).

Eventually, he quieted awake.

"Sorry," he said. "I—"

Imogen cut him off. "I was having a weird nightmare, so cheers for that."

Red rubbed Althyk's sand from his lashes, turning his bleary blues to her. "What about?"

"I don't really wanna talk about it, honestly."

"Fair do's. Me neither."

Imogen kicked her way out of the blanket and cracked some fire crystals under the kettle, which had a permanent place on their stove. The Kugane estate that Yoki had rented was certainly intended for weddings, she thought; nowhere else would they offer a kitchenette next to the bedroom. She walked her fingers through the tea bag labels, flickering past the various citrus and ginger variants. She fished out two mild greens and dropped them into twin cups — the handleless, Hingan variant.

Red eventually got up and joined her, watching the kettle. He poured it out as she held out the ceramics. He insisted on doing the honey, too, and Imogen was particular about how squeezy 'one squeeze' was.

She wasn't used to seeing the moonlight against the grey of his hair, so she didn't look at it. She only ran her eyes along the fissures of his scars, relieved to still see most of them there.

"Kanpai," said Imogen.

"… Sure," snorted Red.

Imogen brought her tea to bed and took Red's once-place on the far side, where fear-wrought sweat still clung to the sheets. Her breath skid along the surface and turned to fog, then in her impatience, she scalded her tongue with a flinchless sip.

Red didn't drink his tea yet, and that was fine. Imogen was so easily offended by the star, but not him. She slipped a tome off the bedside table by her and waved it at him.

"We've still got a chapter of this pillowbook to devour," she said enticingly, and Red laughed. She didn't know what she'd do if that was taken away from her too, so she savoured every note, memorised the key.

"I thought ye hated th' last chapter."

"Yeah, that's why I want to read more of it. I need more kindling for my fireplace of ire. I'm a hatred-engine running out of steam."

"Or — 'ere's a wild idea — ye actually enjoy the story—"

"I would rather be devoured alive than admit such a thing."

T'was a strange metaphor, yet Red skated past it gracefully. "Right. I'll be Lord Aurumspire and you'll be Lady Bronzebosom?"

"No, let's mix it up this time. You read Lady Bronzebosom's lines."

"I'm flattered, dove. Y'think I've got the bosom to pull it off?"

"Bosom doesn't sound like a word anymore."

Red languidly held one side of the book from the top, and Imogen supported the other with a limp, lackadaiscal wrist. She thumbed the wearing pages, and noticed that they were almost through the novel entirely. Her breath hitched on something in her throat she didn't know was there. She had every temptation to just close the book on Red's fingers and try to read in silence.

Every temptation save one. One small voice in the back of her head, that she gave voice to quietly.

"Let's try and finish this tonight."

"Eager fer the climax?"

"Shut up."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The bead-woven entryway parted for a pair of chesnut brown ears, one bisecting the curtain and the other following quickly after. A'tari sat up straight on her sleeping mat, tail fraying at the ends.

It was just A'khadia.

"You should have knocked!"

"On fuckin' what?" A'khadia popped his head back and punched a fist through the curtain in its stead. A'tari chortled, her laughter its own little song, as she waved him in.

"Okay, you can come in now. Thank you for finally showing some decorum."

"Don't get used t' it." He cut a path through the generous space that they'd been given for the festivities, astral wind prickling in his wake. He wasted no time in sitting, cross legged, across his sister. He wasted even less getting to the point. Even the Warrior of Light couldn't dodge it.

"Ye alright? Y'left the council faster than I could blink."

"Of course! I just… had so many ideas, I needed to write them down."

There was no parchment in sight; they both stared at the empty space where it would've been. A'tari was a bad liar when it came to A'khadia specifically, for the sheer reason that she already knew he'd call her bullshit no matter what she said.

"Tari, s'kosher if yer overwhelmed. No one ever makes me do a speech 'cause they know I'd rather jump off'a cliff."

With a great, windy sigh, the Warrior of Light was toppled to her deathbed with mere sentiment.

"It's different for you. They ask me to do speeches wherever I go. Just because I'm a bard doesn't mean I'm good with words!" She pressed her palms into her eyes until she saw stars, the pressure staying her impending headache. "And I don't know anything about war tactics or intertribe politics. I'm not a leader! All I do is hit things until they die."

"Ye saved the star more'n once. Yer more right to be a leader than I am."

"Saving the world doesn't mean you're any good at leading it."

Only recently, she'd accepted the mantle of sage advisor, someone worth following. Past the stars in her eyes, she hears flashes of echo-embedded memories: a horrific wet gurgle parting wisened scales into soft palates of flesh — chalkboard screeches, manic and unyielding to metre, amid blinding gold — and not so far off in the distance, the full, swelling silence of Elene'shpya amid the fading twinkle of electrope.

"I don't know what I'm doing, Khade. Why does everyone think I know what I'm doing? Why does everyone think I'm you?"

A'khadia's hand was ilms from A'tari's shoulder before it retracted, fingers frozen mid-stretch. "Me?"

"You built all of this, palisade by palisade. You made every decision that kept these people alive. I gallivanted my way around Eorzea and fell into success."

A'khadia shook his head. "That ain't fair, Tari. Lizha designed the layout, the farms… I just helped hunt down th'seeds. Dusa stopped me makin' some stupid, headarse decisions n' took 'em into her own hands. And without yer help with the O'ghomoro, we'd all be tempered by now. It's never bin' just me."

A'tari breathed deep of her brother's words.

"I wish the Scions were here," she said, curling up into herself. She couldn't keep the secret from her twin for too much longer, but how she missed them. Alphinaud taking care of silk-spoken words, Alisaie having such a way with compelling ones — swooping in when A'tari suddenly forgot all the vocabulary in the star, Echo and all. Urianger and Y'shtola's thoughtful solutions to age-old problems, Thancred and Estinien's furtive efforts with people on the ground — where A'tari couldn't keep track of the small, moving parts, tunnel-visioned entirely on the monstrous threat in front of her. G'raha and Krile's innate senses for space and aether, concepts she could only dream of grasping, to see beyond what the barely-mage was capable of. And, though she never thought she'd miss it rather than fear it, Tataru's unstoppable sense for business — it encompassed everything she was struggling to do here today.

All these thoughts filled the silence between them. They fell into it often, the twin satellites.

"Let me help ye wit' the speech," A'khadia offered.

"No, you can't do it for me. I can't keep letting people do things for me because I can't. You've already done enough for our people, all because I was scared—"

"Never said I'd do it for ye. Lemme help."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It's been eleven years since Dalamud ravaged Eorzea. All those years ago… near everyone we knew was suddenly gone. We'd barely grown beyond cubhood, and now we had the weight of the Antelope's legacy on our shoulders.

It weren't easy. All the family we had was each other, y'see — our mother and Nunh were in Thal's hands — an' the options weren't plenty. We made the 'ard decision to part ways. But it wasn't 'cause we decided t' give up.

I had no idea how I was going to help other people, let alone a tribe. I wanted to figure out who I was, what I was good at. I travelled across Eorzea and threw myself at everything. I'm sure many of you know the habits I fell into, drinking deep of my cups, staying up until the Lover's Bell, living from paycheck to paycheck. A'khadia supported me despite all that.

An' I didn't know how t' live without people aroun' me. I wasn't built ind'pendent like that. I travelled 'tween the tribes and y'let me learn yer ways. Ye didn't have to, and some of ye couldn't — I was another mouth t' feed on top of everythin' that'd happened. But ye all humbled me. I learned so much about our people. A'tari kept me company on the suns that no one could spare a hand.

It was in finding my own way that I learned how to be strong for other people.

It was the strength a' other people tha' helped me find me own way.

The Rising always sits under the constellation of the Goddess, the Balance. Nald'thal presides over it too. They both call us to keep, well, balance — between the self and the people. Between each other. To give when you take, to help when you're helped. It's one of life's many cycles that the Traders preside over.

Thank ye all for comin' to our Risin' memorial celebration today. Ye've helped us all so much, an' we wanna return it. Tari and I'll be sittin' here all evenin'. If ye need advice, a lil' helpin' hand, or even jus' an ear to listen, we'll do our best. We ain't miracle workers — we ain't the Warden — but we're both better listeners than talkers, anyhow.

… That's it! We're gonna sit down now. Come one, come all!

Yeah, jus' lemme take a leak first.

— Khadia Nunh of the Windrunner Antelope Tribe, and the Warrior of Light of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn The Seventh Astral Era, Yr. 11

[carbo-ships]

Vampire AU: Ghouls' Night Out - Part 2

Follow-up to this: Ghouls' Night Out

Ardis stood with her hands clasped tightly against her chest as Aether turned on the tap. Water rushed into the bath tub. He held his fingers under the flow to ensure it was warming up, then glanced over his shoulder at her as he shook the droplets from his hand. "Do you need help undressing, tesorina?" he asked her genuinely.

That only made her shyer. "N-No, I, um, I can handle it."

He politely averted his eyes, busying himself with finding some soap and a wash cloth. She took a deep breath and made herself undress. It was the first time she noticed the state of her clothes. Her bloodied shirt was in tatters and offered little resistance when she pulled it off. Her trousers were stiff with mud, but thankfully weren't too difficult to remove once she'd kicked off her dirty boots and socks.

Now came the hard part – mentally, at least. She was left in her undergarments now. This was already more of her than Aether had ever seen. In fact, she didn't think he'd ever even seen her in a pair of shorts.

Aether glanced over his shoulder and found her silently fighting an internal war. He let out a sympathetic sigh. "Cara," he cooed, "come on. It's okay."

"I– I know, I just–" she stuttered, avoiding his gaze, "I'm embarrassed."

He set down the supplies and approached her to take her hands in his. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, gently rubbing the backs of her hands with his thumbs. "You can trust me, Ardis. You know that."

He was right. If that evening had proven anything, it was that Ardis trusted Aether completely – or at least enough to hunt her through the woods, pin her to the leaf-carpetted ground, bite her neck, and drink her blood. Aether helping her bathe should have felt much less intimate than the experience the two of them had just shared. "I know," Ardis sighed. "You're right. I'll do it."

"Here, give me a hug first," he insisted, opening his arms to her. She quickly accepted his offer, wrapping her arms around his thick torso and resting her head against his chest. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. "You know I wouldn't ask you to do this if it weren't important," he murmured. "I was a little bit rough with you. You need to have all your injuries properly cleaned, and it wouldn't be safe for me to leave you on your own while you're in this state."

She nodded against him, but he could tell she was still nervous. Perhaps there was a way around this. It didn't necessarily need to be him who did the bathing. "If it's just because of the..." He cleared his throat. "Feelings I have for you, I'm sure Papa would be more than willing to do it instead. Would that make you more comfortable?"

She shook her head. "No, it's that... Well, no one's ever seen me... um..."

Aether felt his face flush. "Oh." No one? No one? He knew that shouldn't surprise him as much as it did. The sight of his bare chest had rendered her speechless during her first week at the church. Of course no one had ever seen her naked.

"If someone has to, I..." she mumbled. "I want it to be you."

Oh. It took all of Aether's self-control to stay calm. He cleared his throat. "I... I see. Alright. Shall we?"

Ardis nodded slightly and Aether released her. He stepped back to give her some space, turning around to shut off the water. He could feel his heart starting to pound in his chest. He hadn't been particularly nervous about this until now. His thoughts had been so focused on getting her clean and patched up that he hadn't fully considered what it would entail. How intimate it would be.

"Okay," came Ardis's quiet voice a few moments later. Aether steeled his nerves and turned around. His face immediately felt hot. Good heavens. No, he mustn't stare, no matter how much he liked what he saw. He did his best to keep his eyes locked on hers as he closed the distance between them. She looked up at him nervously as he rested his hands on her bare shoulders and gently kissed her forehead.

"Is it alright if I examine you properly now?" Aether asked quietly. When she got her consent, he let his eyes scan every inch of her body. He fought to keep his thoughts pure. He was looking for injuries, he reminded himself as he walked around her. "You have a few scratches on your back," he mumbled. He wasn't sure if they'd been caused by the rough forest floor, or his nails. "All minor, though," he assured her. "They'll heal on their own."

His eyes drifted to the claw marks on her sides and hips. Those were definitely his fault. The lines were red and slightly raised, but he hadn't broken the skin, much to his relief. He hadn't gotten too carried away. "Nothing major, aside from what I did to your neck," he said.

She looked somewhat relieved, but not enough to override how embarrassed she was. "T-That's good."

"I'm going to pick you up and set you in the tub now," he murmured. "Okay?"

"Okay..."

Aether stooped low and swept the angel into his arms. He could feel her trembling slightly as he walked to the bathtub. She felt so small. He unsuccessfully attempted to clear his head once again as he gently lowered her into the hot water. As soon as she was settled, he wasted no time in cleaning her tiny body with a soapy washcloth. He carefully dragged it across the various scratches, washing away the dirt and sweat. Heavy silence hung in the room, both of their minds racing. "I'm sorry about your shirt," he eventually said awkwardly to break the tension.

"It's alright," Ardis assured him. "Swiss warned me to wear one I wasn't attached to." At best, he'd said, it would get a bit of blood on it. Worst case scenario, it would be ripped to shreds. "How, um, how is Petrichor?" she asked, shifting the focus away from herself.

Aether laughed gently. "A bit loopy from blood loss, but I'm sure Pet's pleased about that. You know how the three of them are. Pet took quite a few more bites than you did, but they're also a bit sturdier than you are. They'll be just fine. How about you? How are you feeling now? Other than embarrassed, I mean."

"I..." Her attempt to change the topic had proven unsuccessful. "I'm tired, but nothing really hurts."

"Good," Aether said. "You'll probably be a little sore in the morning when the effects have worn off, but you know I'll take care of you." He pressed a ginger kiss to her forehead that only made her blush more. This didn't go unnoticed. "You know you have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about, don't you? You did me a favor because you love me, that's all."

She nodded, but she didn't look fully convinced.

"Are you worried about what your superiors will think when they see the mark on your neck?" he guessed.

"No, I, uh... I got their permission," Ardis said. "They know."

That surprised Aether a bit. He was under the impression that she had joined the event without their knowledge. He could hardly believe they'd allowed her to participate. However, he supposed he shouldn't be shocked that she'd asked for their permission. She was an angel, after all. Sneaking around wasn't in her nature. "Well, one less thing to worry about," he murmured as he gently wiped down the marks on her hips. "You're by no means obligated to do it again next year, if it was too much," he assured her. "I know it was painful, and intimate, and probably a bit frightening at times–"

"I liked it," she interrupted him quickly. "I just... I'll just need some time to calm down, and..."

"I see." He offered her a gentle smile, catching on. He'd heard of this before – individuals feeling a bit low after a particularly intense emotional and physical experience. Granted, the original context was a little... different, and likely one Ardis was not familiar with, but the principles were the same. He'd gotten awfully rough with her, and that had been a first for them. She'd almost certainly never been in such a vulnerable, submissive position before. Even though she'd fully consented, and certainly enjoyed herself, he could tell things felt a bit different now. His words echoed in his mind once again. Submit to me. Right. He had to address this. "You know you're not just a meal to me, don't you, Ardis?" he asked softly, carefully taking her chin in his hand to make her look up at him.

She gave him a little nod, a tiny grin sneaking back onto her lips.

"I know my tongue got away from me in the woods, but I'm just as much yours as you are mine," Aether assured her. "You mean the world to me, cara, and I love you more than anything."

Her cheeks turned an even darker shade of pink, but this time it was not out of shame. "I love you, too."

"And as soon as we're done here, we'll head to bed and I'll hold you until all of those thoughts stop swirling in your head. Alright?"

She gave him a proper smile. "Okay."

[eorziapple]

Apple liked Zoissette, unfortunately.

Her conversation with Ement had gone well. He had some suggestions that were in her wheelhouse.

Stationary, reading material, inkwells and pens, reading material, something magically enchanted… a smile.

She paused on that thought. Ement was teasing her with that, to be sure, but hearing that Zoissette spoke about her and worried for her had set her heart pacing and her cheeks reddened almost instantly. She was sure he picked up on it, too.

She wasn’t sure what to do with that revelation. It made sense of course, looking back. How involved she was with Zoi’s recovery, to the point of experimenting her aether regulator on herself, leading to her own mess. Looking back she recognized that she lost focus in their conversations of late. Gods, she was staring at her a lot, too… did Zoi know?

In the end, there wasnt anything to do, she supposed. After what happened with Mathye she was sure Zoi did not wish for any confessions from coworkers. Not to mention the training, wouldnt be right to mess things up when Zoi would be helping her learn swordplay.

Besides… it was too selfish. Everyone was being so kind to her, chiefly Zoissette herself, checking up on her, she’d heard that much of her unconsciousness was overseen by the Elezen’s vigil, which was lovely to think about. To turn that kindness into awkwardness and discomfort… no, that wouldnt do. Besides, there was the gift to consider, and she had the perfect idea formulating in her mind.

She wasnt sure if it was possible, but that was the exciting part. And clearly, she needed a project to keep her from… distractions.

And so she got to work, first, a few tests of the theory, binding and aetherically charged word, technically the ink used to write the word to the quill. It was simple enough to pull off, not unlike charging a cartridge for a specific gunblade. It did nothing on its own other than ready two components for enchantments. That would be the tricky part.

Old Sharlayan was the best option for consultation concerning her theory. The practice used to conceal memories that was now public was where she got the idea, but rather than something as complex and a concept or idea, could it be used for objects with an aetheric link? That took some doing. Thankfully she had the Sons of Saint Coinach to turn to, colleagues that could sponsor her personal project, though it would prove immensely useful to all researchers should it prove successful. In this she managed to rope Linlia Lia and Fourtenbraugh, researchers and Nymean specialists who had read of a similar idea the scholors of yore employed.

The tests came in two parts of enchanted and aetherically linked objects. The first being and enchanted page within a tome, complex in that the magics needed to be individually linked from the first page to each subsequent page, a process taking the three of them the better part of a day and s half and two raids of the component shop for extra supplies.

The second was a little more complex. By charging a written word with aether on the enchanted page, and then binding that word together with a quill, and -then- using the quill to write on the subsequent pages, the initial aetheric charge woven into the initial word on the cover page would be linked to every word written.

The next step was to then write a second word on the enchanted cover page, and aetherically charging that word and again, the quill.

All of this work lead towards the application of Apple’s theory, if people could be made to forget a memory or a concept via enchantmemt, then, theoretically, an object could be made to forget a linked object.

And, with a bit of experimentation it was just so. By using the quill to draw out the aether signature of the first word written on the enchanted pages, all the words written on the subsequent pages of the tome would show clearly, and additional notes or words would be added with the same signature.

But if the quill drew on the aetheric properties of the second word written on the enchanted page, the subsequent pages in the tome would only show the ink used with the same signature of the second word. Which was nothing at the moment. A blank canvas to write on a new topic.

In this, one journal could become multiple journals. By creating a word on the first page, and creating a unique aetheric signature, one could use the quill to take that signature and write, only able to see ink sharing in that same signature

Completing the project took the better part of a week, but in the end she had what she deemed to be the perfect present she could think of for Zoissette. A modular journal for a multitude of topics in one bound book.

She was tempted to just leave the gift at her doorway, but the idea nagged at her. She wanted to give it to her personally, see her reaction. She wanted her to know how grateful she was, and how fond she was of her, just… maybe bot exactly -how- find she was.

And so, that is how she found herself in a lovely little green dress, nervously holding a wrapped package, waiting for its recipient to come down the main stairwell for the company holiday dinner.

Thankfully her nerves melted away as she excitedly explained the magically theory on her new invention.

Apple liked Zoissette… maybe not so unfortunately.

[lilypadlys]

Domestic December Day 22 - Stopping the Other from Overworking Themselves

Rain helps Dew clean after a tour.

Notes: Inspired by this fic by dewedup. Prompt list by comp-lady. See prompt list here

Spring cleaning below the cut or on AO3

It’s been about a week since the band got back from tour. Everyone is still tired, but settling in well. They’re all enjoying resting up, having spent the last week lazing around the abbey, enjoying food, and sleeping as late as they please. Everyone except Dewdrop that is.

The ghoul wing is a mess. With only Aether and Sunny there to clean for months, plus the recent arrival of eight overtired ghouls; dust, luggage, and other small messes are everywhere. Dew likes things neat and under control and he's at his limit after the barely maintained chaos that is touring.

At Aether’s insistence, Dew took a few days off; mainly because Aether smothered any attempt to get up and work with kisses and cuddles (which quickly led to other things). Now though not even a warm bed and a pretty ghoul is enough to pry the mop and vacuum from his claws.

Dew systematically makes his way through the den, leaving a trail of cleaning supplies and raised dust in his wake. To everyone’s surprise, Rain follows behind the fire ghoul like a shadow.

After the first couple days of working himself into a tizzy, Rain appears to help moderate Dew’s frenzy. Rather than try to convince Dew to rest, he just quietly falls in line behind him and begins to help. He doesn’t let Dew shoo him away either, Just gives him a look as he continues to help clean.

They settle into a rhythm. Rain sets his alarm for as early as he can stand and meets Dew in the kitchen. By that point the fire ghoul is already pacing impatiently. He thrusts a mug of tea into Rain’s waiting hands and rattles off the day’s to-do list as Rain nods along. The second Rain’s mug is in the sink, off they go to whatever room Dew has decided to descend upon that day.

Rain just follows Dew’s lead. Holding the dustpan while Dew sweeps, keeping the vacuum cord from getting tangled and caught on things, holding trash backs open as Dew fills them, refilling the mop bucket. Rain also makes sure Dew eats, takes breaks, and gets to bed on time. Routinely, Rain will gently pry whatever cleaning supplies from Dew’s hands and guide him to the kitchen where he’ll make food for the two of them. At the end of the day, he’ll insist that Dew should go take a shower and go to bed, picking him up and carrying him to his room as necessary. Then the next day they’ll do it all over again.

This continues until Dew is finally satisfied that everything is tidy enough for his standards. Only then does he let Rain bring him to Aether’s room where both the water and quintessence ghouls will bury him at the bottom of a ghoul pile and refuse to let him lift a finger until he’s rested up.