#Creator is bored of being in the forest

[eevee-genshin-blog]

How Did This Happen?! Pt. 3

A/N: Sorry it took so long for this taking so long!! Gods- I bricked off of Tumbler- (My DND Campaigns way of saying knocked out) I'm eighteen now!! And dealing with this stuff- sorry again I've been fixing this for a while now! _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

You were bored. You had gone to the Lion of the South and laid on top of them, in your defense it was starting to get cold and you didn't want to start a fire, so you decided to cuddle into the warmth of a giant.

Of course, he was okay with this. The two of you spoke and you learned more of your fake. Turns out Tevyat was getting upset and was lashing out... You weren't fond of the idea of others suffering.

You were getting horribly bored now, but you've adjusted to the time in Tevyat in favor of your world. Now it felt just as long, which was annoying... you loved the fact you could run around for days and mess with any hunters.

But you most likely needed to go to Liyue soon to deal with that mess... But first you wanted to mess with Venti. You knew he knew the person on the throne was a fake, but he acted like he was blind by his devotion, and you wanted to fuck with him for that, even if he was doing it to spy on the impostor.

You and several cats had cornered Venti by The Angel's Share. You wanted Diluc to see this, just to make this so much better a ton of others have seen this. You loved it, if Venti couldn't tell it was you, the Real Creator, that was his own fault.

You mentally snickered and left the other cats to keep Venti trapped. Quickly leaving to get something to drink, somewhat hoping that you'd get some milk.

You were mentally laughing until Jean's voice rang through the City.

"The Creator had an Impostor!" Everyone shut up and I looked at Jean all the cats scattered...

"Lord Barbatos and Lady Nahida confirmed this after months of watching the Lady who sat on our throne... After Lord Morax checked, the Impostor was removed from the Throne and is being questioned on the true Creator's whereabouts... But what we do know is that she is near Mondstadt."

Shit. You thought, but it would be a fun game of hide and seek... Of course, you doubted the Four Winds or a number of the creatures would want you to do that... They made it clear they wanted you on the throne... Sure, it'd be nice to be you again... but you loved the freedom.

You tilted your head and simply walked away. Your paws making soft sounds, showing you were happy as you slipped into a small crack and vanished.

You popped out by the temple, near the Statue of Barbatos. You lazily joined a group of cats and laid in the sun. You just had to wait for someone to put the pieces together and maybe you could turn back and convenience the Archons to not be with you all the time...

[idkfitememate]

A Boar? In This Economy? Pt. 1

♡︎ « Next Part ⋙

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN!Boar Reader x Genshin World

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 922

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Crack, fluff, found family

So, SAGAU right? Imposter ver specifically, right? Alllll of Teyvat has been ruled by some asshole who claims to be the creator, right?

Welp.

It’s time for you to get your ass isekai’d!

One problem though….

Instead of getting your phone, or having all the elements under your belt, or anything else…

You’re a boar.

Not like a “BiG tUsK sPeCiAl PaTtErN” boar.

Just a boar you can find in the starting areas of Mondstadt that just so happens to have golden blood.

Fun.

Hell, when you first woke up, you were confused on why you were short. And why you were in fours. And hairy. And why your mouth felt so damn heavy. And dragging yourself to a small pound, you figured out why.

Shaggy brown hair and small beady black eyes staring back at you. Large, off white tusks block your forward vision so you move to the side in order to see yourself better. Designs in a darker brown line your fur, a small tail flailing in the wind.

And that is how you spent your first few months in Genshin Impact.

A simple boar trying their damnest to not die.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍡🍪🍬୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Apparently spending time by yourself makes the human mind bored (pun intended).

So.

You decided to build a boar friendly base in the trees.

You noted that all mobs weren’t hostile to you, most likely due to your god status. That and Teyvat was willing to literally bend itself backwards in order to ensure your survival. Making sure only the freshest of fruits fell to your feet, ensuring that the waters were calm when you wanted to swim, and that the winds would gently blow you off, making your fur all fluffy, so on and so forth.

It was especially nice when a hunter had their sights set on you, only for a pack of hilichurl to appear and slaughter the man, the ground swallowing him up.

Now, the first few times it was fucking horrifying, but then you kinda realized you they didn’t do that, you’d be super dead right now, so you pushed an apple over in thanks and took all the headpats you could get from the group.

Anyway, back to the main topic.

You got bored (pun intended again) of living on the ground where anyone could find you and kill you, and that was no fun! So you found a nice mountain side (since you didn’t have a map, you couldn’t say right off the top of your head where you were but you knew full well it was by Dragonspine. Gods you were so cold… but I’d be worth it!-) with a nice forest next to it, and began building.

With the help of nearby mita and lawachurls and - of course - Teyvat itself, you carved into the side of the mountain, creating a cave system that only a being as short as you could traverse. Then, you connected them to a large treehouse system and continued to work on said treehouse system. Someone would have to be focusing damn hard and not fighting the actual army of churls and slimes and other beasts that made their way to stay beneath your home to actually see… well your home.

And up you went.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🎂🍰🍩୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

More months had passed, and confirmed many things for you.

A. The true “Imposter” had came here long before you.

B. They very weren’t a boar.

C. You did have a human form, but your “Creator” form had a boar as a symbolic animal.

Which, while initially was a little insulting, you came to (reluctantly) agree that, yeah. That was unfortunately pretty accurate.

You could be a bit sloppy at times, keeping a good appearance wasn’t at the absolute top of your list, as well as eating well… or drinking, but still!

You continued your now lavish boar life in the trees and caves, no longer bored (I’m not sorry for reusing this pun.).

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍫🍦🍭୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

You had been in Teyvat for… a year now? No one suspected a boar of being the true creator, everyone was still being treated like shit by the “creator” and you were still tucked away in your little forest/cave structure home.

You got a little curious, and well?

You found that you could - in fact - do something cool!

You could control the elements! Outside of Teyvat just doing things that were in your best interests. You could grow vines! And spit fire! And burp lightning and squeal hard and loud enough that it created a whirlwind!

You could part the seas like Moses!

…

Anyway-

You may have gotten a bit carried away, feeling secure in where you were. So you let the churls braid some parts of your fur, and paint it… and they gave you a mask.

And you’d chase seelies. And rest with slimes.

And just do a lot of shit that most boars definitely couldn’t, wouldn’t and didn’t do.

And unfortunately, one night when you were doing a fire dance with one of your favorite hilichurl camps. (They were the ones to kill that first hunter. They also gave you your first mask and paint job).

Completely enveloped in the current happenstance, while you breathed large balls of fire into the night that somehow didn’t injure a single being nor set a single tree alight…

You missed the boy who believed he was a wolf watching from the shadows.

…Oops?

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I’m shocked people actually like this thingy lol. Part 2 is on the way! As a treat, I fixed up some typos and fixed some grammar mistakes!

Have a good day/night dears! <3 ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

P. S. Now I made a tag as well!

[heavenbloom]

🇵🇸 BEFORE YOU READ: DONATE • BOYCOTT TLOU

⚭ — 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒊𝒏’𝒕 𝒎𝒆, 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒆 | 𝒆.𝒘.

song: it ain’t me babe — joan baez and posing for cars — japanese breakfast

summary: you had always wanted to marry ellie williams, and if the ring on your finger meant anything, she wanted to marry you too. but your reveries of marital bliss are crushed when the words leave her lips — it isn’t the right time.

warnings: 18+ mdni. ANGST. modern!au, fem language and she/her pronouns used, profanities, heartbreak, confrontation, allusions to joel’s death and depression, mentions of grief, bittersweet ending. not proofread.

wc: 2.2k

a/n: i got all the ellie photos off of pinterest. i couldn’t find the exact creators but credits to all the people who took them nonetheless!! this was mainly dialogue practice but i think i botched it lmao

Dawn outstretched its sunlit fingers to the earth. Gold, warm and ripe, trailed through the white lace curtains that were draped across the window. The light spilled over the chipped wooden table and streaked the desolate mug sitting on top of it. It turned the glass cupboard kaleidoscopic and made the dust floating around the room visible. Above your head, spinning, spinning, spinning.

This scene was a thing too tender for the grief that bellowed in your gut, that clawed at the back of your throat, that pinched the flesh up your spine. 

Domesticity, the simplicity of morning come. The absence of a person, a loved shape, hollowing your chest and letting the lonesome place gape. 

You were dimly aware of the ring burning a hole in your robe pocket. Her ring. The one you had given to her in the hush of a green, vacant field. You had traced its fern etchings a hundred times over, felt the warmth of her skin seeping into the shining silver. 

You slipped your hand into your robe pocket and you felt it now; cold. Abandoned at your door with little more than a sorrowful gaze. 

Something rose to your throat, a scratched-raw emotion that climbed its way free.

The loss was knife-shaped now, a gutting. You couldn’t help it when you stumbled to the table, tears scattering over the wood in endless droplets as a gasping sob ripped past your lips. You clutched your chest, as if the action was a balm to keep you good and whole.

The sunlight caressed the tears over the wood, making them gleam. A winking, shimmering mockery. You swiped them away with quick fingers, but it couldn’t erase anything. Not your pain, not the aching and unfathomable chafe of loss. 

They kept falling, and falling, and falling.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

The house was hushed as the night creeped in, the coolness of it settling bone-deep. Only the silvery beams of full-moonlight illuminated inside. No lights warmed within.

Items were packed haphazardly into a box, while others were strewn across the table. You weren’t obligated to sort her things, but you had wanted to make the process swift, to be done with the humiliation and anguish that welled up over and over like lifeblood from unhealed wounds. But it wasn’t so simple.

Things like this never were.

How could you pack away a promise, a now bitter what-if? The dread of it coated your tongue, too grief-thick to swallow. 

Most of her things bore your gentle mark on them. The sketchbook you leafed through with your face woven throughout. Her dear hand-painted mug that depicted your favourite flower. Her clothes, smelling of your favourite fabric softener and folded in the same way as yours. 

This was it, then. Here, in the darkened home, you feel your future being snuffed out like a flickering flame, pinched between numb fingers. Your dreams existed now only in the confines of this little kitchen, in the intertwinings of two once-loving souls. The warmth had long left the remnants of what once was. 

Your shaking fingers skimmed over a sweater slung over the back of a dining room chair. It was a deep forest green, the colour you adored most on her. It was soft beneath your hands, the wool moulding to the pressure of them. Your hands trembled as you lifted it to your face. Inhaled, long and slow, the lingering smell of her. 

It was silly, wasn’t it, to mourn like this? She wasn’t dead, after all. But her absence was a wraith, clinging to you with a hooked, unyielding grasp. Something has died here, and the stench of it loiters. Joy, bliss, love. They all decompose at your feet now, ashes of a connection, of a life.

A shiver races up your spine as you hear the lock of the front door slowly slide open. There is an uncertain pause, silent as a windless day. She doesn’t stay at the threshold long, though. You hear her hesitant footfalls, tracing a familiar path into the kitchen.

You feel Ellie’s presence hovering behind you, but you’re not quick to turn to her. She approaches you like one would a wounded animal, muted and light on the balls of her feet. You know this silence and how she sees you right now. Unpredictable, pitiable. Will you snap your jaws or will you just lie there and bleed?

You take a deep breath and lower the sweater back onto the chair. That same prick of misery pierces you through, but this time it’s solid like a blow to the gut. The hopelessness of it stabs the roof of your mouth and dampens your swollen eyes. 

You pivot, vision blurry as you face her in the rich dark, and you feel what little left of your heart sag, struck down by her own bleary-eyed gaze. If she wanted this, why did she look so upset? How was that fair?

You lodge your tongue behind your top teeth in order to suppress the ugly, jagged thing that lurches at the base of your throat. You would be civil, though you had every right to rip her apart. You wouldn’t make this worse than it was.

Instead, you clear your throat, your head bobbing to the box on the table. “I started– I started to pack your things, but I couldn’t finish the job. Sorry.”

 The words were a whisper, your voice frayed and withered from the lonesome hours spent crying. There was a twitch to Ellie’s body at the shape of its sound, an impulse to comfort, but the moment flickered as quickly as it came. 

“It’s okay,” she speaks, words gentle as a susurrating forest. “It’s really okay. I’ve got the rest.”

You nod once, backing away from the table and letting her softly press past you. The brush of her jacket against your shoulder, the fist-tight constriction of your chest at the subtle contact. Don’t let this be it.

Her back was now away from you, her short auburn hair sticking up in places as she bent her head down to view the contents splayed about. Your hands shifted at your sides, tugged by a phantom thread. The memory of smoothing those stubborn strands down danced in your memory, sweet and sentimental and useless. 

“Ellie?” 

Her name left the tip of your tongue before you could force it down, more a tentative question than anything else. You watched as her neck straightened, the pearly glow of moonlight sweeping over her in the swirls and patterns of the curtains. 

A reluctant hum of acknowledgement, green eyes sliding back to look at you. There wasn’t any cruelty in them, nor was there irritation. There was only the gut-curdling  nausea of anticipation. She could evade it no longer.

“Please… I can’t do this– not without a reason why.” 

Her gaze immediately faltered, nervous hands distracting themselves with a comic book on the table.

Her voice was small, barely a mumble. “It's just… it’s not the right time–”

“Not this bullshit again, Ellie!” There was a blade sheathed within your voice now, sharpened where only desperation laid prior. “We know each other better than that, and I… I can’t stop you from leaving but you don’t just get to walk out of here without telling me why. Why isn’t it the right fucking time?”

Even with such little light, you could see the bow-tight tension in her shoulders snap. They slump as she faces you, her body propped up against the chair as if all strength has been leached from her bones. She never was very good at avoiding the truth, but this was one she especially wanted to. It was a stubborn bruise of a thing and she wasn’t sure she wanted it poked at.

But you’re right, of course. She owed you honesty, even if it hurt like a noose closing tighter around her throat. Her eyes met yours a second time, overbright and brimming. 

“Why?” you prod again, taking one step closer, but not overstepping. “Were you… unhappy with me? Was it because of me? I want to know, Ellie. I-I want to know if I’m the reason.”

The words settle over her, a veil of suffocating smoke and her eyes flutter shut. “No, Jesus… it’s not because of you.”

“Then why?!” you agonise, hands flailing about in the air between you. Her dark brows furrow, a deep intake of breath drawing into her constricting lungs.

“It’s– fuck. I’m just not right for you anymore,” she says through gritted teeth, the skin around her closed eyes crinkling. Her hands twist in the confines of her jacket as she says this, the aged leather crackling from the movement. Joel’s old jacket. 

Your demeanour softens around the edges, lips quivering. “Did… did I ever make you think that?”

“No,” she whispers, breeze-like. “Never.”

“Then what is it, Ellie? If it’s not me, then what is it?”

There’s a pause, weighted as her eyes open to slits. Her lashes are wet with tears and her lips are pressed into a sullen, crescented  line.

“I’m not the same girl you fell in love with.” Her eyes flit from the tiles to her jeans to the yawning kitchen just beyond you, anywhere but your face. As certain as the sun rises, she knows the sight of your tear-stained cheeks will break her anew. There’s only so much heartache a person can carry in one lifetime, and she fears she’s exceeded her load.

“What I mean to say is… I… I’m so different after what happened,” she mumbles. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t love you, or that I still don't love you. It’s the… the act of loving itself. Something in me’s– it’s gone. I can't.” A tear falls as the last few syllables tumble upon themselves, a piece of pent-up sorrow carving a path down her cheek. 

Memories of the past few months flurry around in your skull, of sleepless nights and deadened days. The permeating silence besides the swish of the washing machine and the insistent buzz of the refrigerator. And the warm ghost cozied up at your side, eyes the hue of wilted leaves.

“Oh, Ellie,” you breathe as glacial pity stabs your gut. Your hands move instinctually as they grasp for hers. “That doesn’t mean you’ve changed. You’re just hurt. We can work it out, okay?”

Her head shakes frantically, but she makes no effort to move. “It’s not that simple. I’ve been trying and I just can’t. I love you, but I can’t keep pretending that everything about this life doesn’t remind me that Joel’s fucking gone. He won’t see us married, and I’ll spend every day thinking about it if I stay here.” You pull away as if singed. Her grief for Joel was the one thing too buried within her to dig out and hold to the light. She was so protective of it, though it was a thorn in her side. You couldn’t get close, especially not now. 

A cold palm comes to rest at your cheek, smearing the streaks of dampness that gather there. When you look up, a shadow of a smile passes over her lips. It is a soft look, almost sweet in its vulnerability.

“There’ll be someone else,” she whispers, dipping her head to catch your gaze. “They'll cherish you more than I ever could and you’ll be so head-over-heels that you’ll forget all about me. This won't be the end of your life, I swear.”

Don’t you understand? you wanted to say. I wanted it to be you. It was supposed to be you.

But deeply you understood that there was no use fighting for it when you could feel the flames of your upset already cooling. She had given you an answer. Your relationship belonged to a sliver of peaceful bliss, and that time was over. Divergence was the only path forward, and the fact of it settled over you serenely like honey.

“Put out your hand.”

Hesitance rippled through her, but she complied nonetheless, outstretching her slim fingers towards you though they slightly trembled.

You hadn’t taken the ring off since she had slipped it onto your finger. It protested, gripping your flesh as you tugged on it, but eventually it came free. Your skin felt foreign without its constant swaddling. The aquamarine stone glinted like the ocean beneath a somber, moonlit night.

“Keep it,” you urged quietly as you placed it in her waiting palm. “Give it to the next girl you love if you think she’ll like it. Treasure her enough so that she wears it for the rest of her life.”

Her breath hitched in the back of her throat as she caged it between her fingers. The metal was still warm, comforting. “Thank you…”

Salt-drenched lips came to her cheekbone, feather-soft as they pressed a single kiss there. One last act of affection. A farewell befit for such a kind love.

There were no words left to say after that. You let her pack in peace and helped her load her things into her car. You watched as she drove down the street she once called her home, breezing beneath familiar street lamps like a moth fluttering from one light source to another.

You continued to stare until she rounded the corner, melting into the quiet of the night. Only then, you let your fingers wander to your pocket. You traced the twinings of silver-etched leaves, a silent wish drifting away on the wind.

Some things are better left unsaid, you think.

It's better this way.

[professional-spectator]

Okay, a disclaimer and heads-up: I don't own Hoyo, Genshin Impact, or any related properties. Also, please be aware that this story will explore serious and sensitive themes. Please be aware that this is a work of fiction and may not represent my personal views or opinions.

This work is inspired by SAGAU (Self-Aware Genshin Impact Alternative Universe), isekai tropes, various isekai settings, creation myths, and fanfiction in general. Consider this my standard warning.

This story takes place after the Reader has been exiled rather kicked out from Teyvat for being the "fake creator." The Reader is not the actual creator, but just a Genshin player who has been wrongly labeled as the imposter. It's a Cyno x Reader story.

Chapter 3-After the end:

Cyno vividly recalled that fateful day when he first laid eyes on her in the sumeru city. Beneath the shroud of night, her face obscured by a cloak, she seemed to harbor secrets of her own, keeping to the shadows.

He had been on high alert, his mind haunted by the warnings of a false god—an imposter weaving deceit to ensnare the hearts of the unsuspecting. With a surge of resolve, he summoned his staff, an instinctive urge to pass judgment tingling in his fingertips.

Just then, the imposter turned to face him. "Cyno?" Her voice trembled as a flicker of recognition ignited in her eyes when she saw his staff. She understood the weight of that moment.

"I'm not the imposter... please!!" Her plea fell into the void, unheard, as his weapon swept towards her. She barely evaded the strike.

"Cyno, please... just listen..." she begged, desperation clawing at her tone. Her voice bore a semblance of familiarity, but he pushed that thought aside. She danced narrowly around his assault.

"You won't hear me, will you? No matter what..." Her voice fractured, tears spilling as madness tinged her gaze. In a moment of utter despair, she lunged toward his weapon. The Staff of the Scarlet Sands pierced her flesh, and he felt a jolt of horror as it dug deep. Her expression haunted him; blood oozed from her lips—not the shimmering golden blood of the divine, but the dark crimson of mortals. A sense of dread settled in his chest, compelling him to carry her to Tighnari for healing.

Four long years had passed since that encounter, but today, Cyno returned with a weighty burden. As he emerged into Tighnari's forest, the Forest watcher eyes widened in disbelief; Cyno cradled the imposter in one arm, while his other arm held a sleeping child, both swathed in blood.

Cyno stood before him, the imposter securely in tow, alive and breathing. But that wasn’t all—Cyno cradled her child in his arms.

“What in the world, Cyno?” Tighnari exclaimed, his eyes narrowing at the sight of blood smeared across them. As a healer by instinct, he rushed to assess their condition, searching for wounds. To his relief, there were none. The blood was merely a remnant of chaos, not a sign of injury. The forest watcher had been on patrol, only to see this.

He motioned for Cyno to follow him to the medic's quarters at the forest watcher's base, feeling a sense of urgency. Inside, Tighnari began to examine the imposter. As they worked, Cyno waited outside, a soft stirring caught his attention—the child stirred awake, her eyes wide with confusion as she clung to Cyno’s arm.

“Hero?” she murmured, her tiny voice filled with hope. Cyno’s heart sank. He recognized the truth: this girl was his child, his responsibility, yet he didn’t even know her name. The fortune teller’s words echoed in his mind: “You will hold your heart in your hand.”

In that moment, he realized he was quite literally holding his own heart—his daughter, who was searching for her mother.

“Mama?” the child asked, her voice tinged with worry.

“Your Mama will be fine, albi,” Cyno reassured her, coining a tender nickname that meant “my heart.” His voice was unusually soft, a stark contrast to the chaos of the moment. Tighnari listen carefully, sensing that there was more to this story than met the eye.

With Collei's assistance, Cyno managed to get Hala cleaned up and dressed. She looked adorable in her new dress, though Cyno felt completely out of his depth when it came to fixing her appearance. He had attempted a clumsy braid that left much to be desired.

"Let me take care of that," Collei chuckled softly. Gently, she brushed Hala's hair and expertly fashioned it into a lovely single braid. As she worked, she couldn’t resist pulling Hala into a warm embrace.

"Who is this little one, General Mahamatha Cyno?" Collei asked, her voice filled with curiosity. Cyno's mind drifted, contemplating the countless birthdays, holidays, and dinners he had missed with her.

“Hero?” Hala reached out, her tiny hand touching his face, prompting him to wrap her in a tight hug.

“She’s my daughter…” Cyno replied, a mixture of pride and longing in his voice.

Collei stood frozen, her eyes wide with disbelief as Tighnari appeared at the threshold of the room.

"I knew it..." he murmured, shaking his head in bewilderment. Tighnari's gaze flickered to Hala, who was innocently clutching onto Cyno, blissfully unaware of the heavy implications that hung in the air. In a twist of fate, it seemed that Cyno had fathered an illegitimate child with the most unexpected of individuals, the imposter.

"Collei, could you please give us a moment?" Tighnari asked, his voice steady yet urgent, needing to speak with Cyno privately.

Cyno cradled the child close to him, like a shield against the world. Meanwhile, Tighnari let out a weary sigh, feeling a creeping headache take hold.

“How do you know?” Cyno’s gaze softened as Tighnari replied.

“She has my eyes… and she carries the gift of the Pactsworn Pathclearer.” He gently brushed his fingers against Hala's cheek, and she beamed up at him, blissfully unaware of the peril that surrounded her very existence.

“You and the Imposter…” Tighnari hesitated, struggling to find the right words.

“You’re… intimate with the imposter? That’s so out of character for you.” He shook his head, reminding himself that he needed to conduct a blood test—just to be sure.

Cyno was acutely aware of how it all unfolded. The memories were etched in his mind with striking clarity. It had been shortly after their departure from Tighnari's place, following an exhausting battle. He had practically pulled her through the endless stretches of desert, desperate to ensure her safety.

"How much longer?" she complained, frustration evident in her tone as she kicked at the sand beneath her feet. "Seriously, why doesn’t this world have buses? Or cars? Just sand, sand, and more sand... Not even airplanes!" The expressions of her frustration were foreign to him; he hardly understood half of those things she mentioned.

"Have you finished yet, Imposter?" Cyno retorted, irritation creeping into his voice. "I’m telling you, I’m not the imposter. My name is—" She shot him a fierce glare, her eyes smoldering with annoyance.

"Listen, Habibti," he said, the term rolling off his tongue with a hint of sarcasm, it's a word akin to saying 'darling' or 'my love.'

"Enough with the complaints..."

She responded with a sharp glare, her arms crossed defiantly against her chest.

"Are you going to whine like a spoiled child all day?" he asked, observing how she pressed her lips together in a silent protest.

"I’m not spoiled..." she muttered under her breath, but it was clear she was trying to hold back her retorts. "My name is not Habibti..." She mutter "I don't even know, what that means..."

Cyno couldn't help but think that she had a tendency to complain more than anyone else. The imposter—ever eager to lend a hand—didn’t quite grasp the distinction between playing in their world and truly living in it. He set up camp and bonfire.

He shut his eyes for a moment, seeking a brief respite. Determined to feel useful, she decided to make stew, the only dish she felt confident preparing in this familiar world.

However, in a mix-up that seemed almost inevitable, she grabbed the wrong mushrooms from his bag. In hindsight, they were quite similar: both had striking red caps adorned with white spots.

When he awoke, the rich aroma of the bubbling stew filled the air. She proudly presented him with a steaming bowl, her sense of accomplishment evident. He took a cautious taste, and the earthy flavor washed over him.

"There’s still so mush-room to grow…" he joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"Har, har, very funny…" she retorted, taking a spoonful herself. As the warmth enveloped them, she fanned herself, tugging at her shirt slightly.

“It’s so hot!” she said, almost panting. “Is it always this warm?”

Cyno felt warm too; a flush crept across his face and he suddenly craved water. His gaze drifted to his open bag, where Tighnari had stashed medicinal supplies, including those red-capped mushrooms meant for grinding into healing potions. But if they were mishandled, they might very well turn into an aphrodisiac.

“Where did you get these mushrooms?” he inquired, concern creeping into his voice.

“From your bag. Why?” she leaned back, a shiver running through her.

“I think you food poisoned us…” he breathed, realizing she had no clue what she had done. The mushrooms hadn’t been in this game; she knew nothing of herbs, flora, or fauna.

“You… idiot…” he muttered, the effects pulsing through him, his glare fixated on her. How had someone so thoughtless survived this long?

“I’m not an idiot!” she shot back, indignation flaring in her eyes.

“Yes, you are. You just made an aphrodisiac stew…” he said incredulously. She reddened, a wave of embarrassment washing over her.

“I’ll toss it out…” she declared, unsteadily rising to her feet, as if discarding the stew would magically erase their predicament.

Cyno shook his head and tried to get up as well, only to stumble and fall against her. Their gazes locked, and the moment carried an unmistakable intimacy that led to a night neither of them could have predicted. When the wild escapade finally settled, she lay against him, skin on skin, both of them coming down from their unexpected high.

“You’re really a scholar…” she mused softly.

“I did study at the Akademiya…” he replied, a faint smile breaking through the tension.

In the past, things were different. But now, Cyno found himself grappling with a poignant truth—he had a daughter born from that fateful night. The innocent little girl had no inkling of her origins, and a part of him struggled with the thought of letting her go ever.

He confided in Tighnari, recounting the memories that weighed heavily on his heart. As Cyno spoke, Tighnari’s expression shifted, realization dawning upon him.

“So that’s why her loss hit you so hard,” he murmured, thoughtful. It was a sentiment that neither of their friends had truly understood, though perhaps Alhaitham and Kaveh were an exception—though they seemed to be caught up in a relationship of sorts, even if they were too oblivious to recognize it.

What will you do now?" Tighnari asked, concern etching his features.

"The Matra won't take kindly to their leader having a child with Teyvat enemy. And let’s not forget—an illegitimate child, born out of wedlock.." He rubbed his temple, feeling the weight of the situation. This could jeopardize Cyno's career and shake the trust of those under his command.

"I’ll take responsibility..." Cyno replied, determination in his voice. He cradled his daughter, Hala, who let out a giggle as he playfully bounced her into the air.

Reader

I awoke to the aroma of mint flowers wafting through the air, jolting me into a state of alertness. My heart raced as memories flooded my mind—my daughter’s voice echoing, the figure of Childe looming in the park, and the haunting image of blood. Panic surged through me as I forced my eyes open.

“No, no, no, no,” I muttered breathlessly, recognizing my surroundings. I was in the Forest Watchers' base, deep within Avidya Forest, in Gandharva Ville.

Reality struck me like a lightning bolt: I was back in Teyvat. My daughter was not by my side, and the realization sent waves of panic crashing over me. My bare arms were adorned with fresh clothes and bandages, remnants of a battle I couldn’t fully remember.

This place was a nightmare I desperately wanted to escape. With a wild burst of adrenaline, I sprang to my feet, feeling like a madwoman. My only thought was to flee, to find my child and break free from this treacherous world once more.

The door stood firmly shut, a barrier between me and the terror that clawed at my insides. I pounded on it, desperation spilling from my lips as I cried out.

“My daughter! Where are you, my baby?” My heart raced, threatening to break free from my chest as panic threatened to engulf me. Just then, the door creaked open, revealing a figure I recognized—a forest watcher, familiar from the game Rana.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concern etching her features. Without a second thought, I surged past her. My daughter was all that mattered in that moment. How I had ended up here was a mystery, but one thing was clear: I had to find my way back to Earth. Together, we would escape this nightmare. I wouldn’t let her endure the horrors I faced.

“Are you okay?”

“Just breathe...”

“You don’t seem well…” I felt the voice wrap around me like a thick fog, hands reaching out in my direction. Dark memories swirled in my mind, dragging me back to that day—shouts of.

“Imposter!”

“False creator!”

“Kill her!” echoed like a haunting chorus.

“No, no, no! Stay away from me!” I cried out, taking off in a panic. The faces of the crowd morphed into a hazy blur as I ran, every heartbeat driving me to find my daughter. I needed to know she was safe. Desperately, I searched for a glimpse of her sweet, familiar face among the children of the village. Nothing.

“Mama” The sound of my daughter’s voice pierced through my thoughts, jolting me into action. I looked around in a frenzy, and there she was, beaming with joy, clapping her tiny hands.

My heart raced as my gaze fell upon Cyno—ever the fierce and stoic figure—holding her delicately, as if she were a princess. His crimson eyes met mine, and a wave of dread washed over me.

Did he know? I hated to think so, though part of me selfishly hoped he remained oblivious. My thoughts spun in a whirlwind of concern for my little Hala, as I felt a surge of desperation.

With all my might, I reached out to snatch her away, but Cyno effortlessly held her just out of my grasp, his stance protective. He was aware, and deep down, he knew she belonged to him.

A storm of emotions roiled within me—relief, fear, and guilt clashed as I faced the truth.

“Still weak as ever, I see…” he remarked, the exasperation lacing his tone. I shot him a fierce glare, my heart pounding.

“Please, just give her to me…” I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper. But I could tell he was firm; he wasn’t going to yield.

Cyno

Cyno stood there, emotions swirling within him like a tempest. He had just discovered the existence of his daughter—his precious little girl—only today. The revelation struck him like lightning; the feeling was overwhelming yet bittersweet. As he held the child close, the bond he felt was undeniable, yet tainted by the urgency echoing in her mother’s desperation.

"I'm her mother!" she pleaded, her eyes brimming with tears, a raw mix of longing and sorrow evident in her voice.

"Please, give her to me…" Cyno felt an ache in his chest at her words. He didn't want to lose his daughter, not when he had just found her. Yet, he could sense that the woman before him—her mother—was consumed by her own pain.

In that moment, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that she had cast him aside, her focus solely on the child that share both of their blood. Perhaps it was the aftermath of the torment they had endured during that time, that had left her so distant.

"Did you know?" Cyno’s voice dropped to a whisper, the weight of his question heavy in the air.

"Know what?" she responded, desperation threading through her tone, her gaze locked on the little girl in his arms.

"Did you know you were pregnant when you left to Dragonspine?" Cyno's voice trembled slightly at the thought. The notion that she might have been aware of their impending parenthood while facing such peril terrified him. It replayed in his mind—the image of her, engulfed in blinding light, obliterated in a moment by three archons, left him haunted.

"You disappeared in the dead of night, and the last sight I had of you was that deadly blast aimed straight at you…" His voice faltered, the emotion rising as he tried not to alarm their daughter. He held her closer, the connection between them a small solace amidst the turmoil. This was a moment that could tear their world apart, and he wouldn’t let it fracture any further.

I remember..." she began, her voice tinged with regret. It was not a highlight in her life, that much was clear.

"Did you know?" he pressed gently, seeking understanding.

"No, I didn't know" she confessed, a hint of sorrow in her tone.

"I was pregnant then..." Her revelation hung in the air, deepening the weight of his guilt. He had allowed her to plunge into that chaos, and it felt like a heavy burden to bear.

The child's voice sliced through the stillness of the air.

" Mama..."

Cyno hesitated, then handed their daughter to her mother. She cradled the little girl with an expression of deep relief, as if she had just found a lifeline.

“Take us back to Earth…” she pleaded, her tone laced with desperation. It was clear she wanted to leave, as staying felt too perilous for her. Cyno had only held their child for a fleeting few hours, and her request took him by surprise, leaving him momentarily speechless.

“No.” His gaze hardened. “She’s my daughter. I’ve only had her for less than a day...” The mother tightened her grip around the girl, a fierce protector.

“She doesn’t know anything about Teyvat. It’s dangerous for her…” She countered his resolve.

“Dangerous? You’d prefer to return her to a weak world that can’t protect itself? I found you covered in blood…” Cyno’s thoughts swirled, but he kept the unique abilities of their child to himself.

“Do you want to raise her as a warrior? Is that what you envision? A life filled with violence and bloodshed?” she hissed, her eyes flashing with anger.

“You’re denying her the chance to know her father, her heritage. I am her father… Don’t you think I deserve a say in our child's future?” Cyno's voice rose, the weight of his emotions spilling out.

“Do you think I’m the kind of man who wouldn’t care about our child’s life?”

Tighnari observed the unfolding drama before him, feeling the tension in the air. The child, visibly uncomfortable, squirmed at the center of their conflict. Sensing the need for intervention, he stepped forward to break the charged atmosphere.

“Listen,” he began, his voice steady and measured, “I understand you both have some important matters to discuss, and it’s crucial to get it all out in the open. However, perhaps this isn’t the right setting for such a conversation—especially not in front of your child.”

He assumed the role of a mediator, aware that he needed to navigate the delicate situation carefully.

“Talking about this here will only stir up unnecessary thoughts and emotions,” Tighnari continued, maintaining a calm demeanor. His intention was clear: to protect the child and help the parents find a more suitable way to resolve their issues.

In a secluded room, Tighnari ushered the child away, leaving Cyno and the Imposter alone to confront their tangled emotions.

“Do you truly believe I wouldn’t care for my own child?” Cyno's voice trembled with anguish.

“I spent less than a day with her—her birthdays, her playdates, the moment she uttered her first words, took her first steps... I missed it all. I should have been there.” The weight of his regret surged forth, unabated.

“You vanished into the night without a word. I vowed to protect you. I always knew your innocence… And now, I discover we have a child together. If I had only known, I never would have allowed you to leave…” Cyno’s voice broke, revealing the raw pain that he carried.

“And what would that have accomplished? Both of us dead? Your friends and family suffering the same fate? I was a hunted fugitive—a labeled imposter, a false creator…” She recounted the bitter past, her heart heavy with memories. “Nations dancing on the edge of war. I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else being harmed or lost because of my mere existence. I was never meant to be in this world…”

Reader

I paused, observing him as he wrestled with his thoughts. Deep down, we both understood that my presence here was a mistake. This world wasn’t where I belonged; yet the realization that I carried our child weighed heavily on him.

“Perhaps, you’re here now, with our daughter who is part of me, part of Sumeru, and part of Teyvat. I intend to be her father…” I could hear the pain and determination lacing Cyno's voice. It was a right he had been unknowingly denied, and it certainly wasn’t my choice to keep him from his daughter.

One truth lingered in my mind: Earth was no longer an option for me. My daughter and I would be rooted in Teyvat for quite some time. I had thought my adventurous days in this world were over, yet it seemed fate had other plans for me. This wasn’t how my story was meant to unfold. I reminisced about the days when I was merely a fan of Genshin Impact, reading fiction tales of ocs, readers who were transported into the game. They often found a way home or chose to remain in Teyvat surrounded by friends. I had no such companions here. All I had was Cyno and our child—this was my reality now, after the end of my original story.

"I meant to take responsibility for you and our daughter..." Cyno declared, his words igniting the tension between us.

"Excuse me?" I exclaimed, fully aware of the implications of what he was saying. He wanted to marry me. Despite the fact that we weren't even dating—or even together by choice at the time we conceived our child—here we were, now faced with the reality of parenthood and still devoid of any romantic connection.

"You’re the mother of my child. I intended to care for you both properly..." His tone was grave, underscoring the seriousness with which he approached everything. It was a quality I both admired and loathed in him.

"Are you out of your mind? Right now, the Fatui are after us—after me and our child. And I’m still branded an imposter. You want to talk about marriage…?" I threw my hands up in exasperation. I recalled reading somewhere that jackals are monogamous creatures. Perhaps, given his origins linked to Hermanubis, he saw things in such a straightforward, rigid way.

"Listen, Habibti," he said, using the affectionate nickname he had bestowed upon me—though I still had no idea what it actually meant.

"I mean no offense. I truly care for our daughter. I just want to do right by her, and I don’t even know her name..." Understanding dawned on me; Cyno always gave his all to whatever he pursued.

"Hala... her name is Hala..." I said softly, turning my gaze away. I had named her after the moonlight, a name inspired by that night of intimacy when we spoke and held each other close. He had shared knowledge about the moon, and in that moment of vulnerability, I chose a name that reflected our connection. His surprised reaction revealed two things: first, how taken aback he was by my revelation, and second, that our night together had indeed meant something to me.

An hour and a half passed as we deliberated, and eventually, we reached some important conclusions.

The first was that I would remain in Teyvat with our daughter. This decision was a struggle for me; he was decidedly reluctant to abandon the idea of fleeing and staying on Earth. I, on the other hand, was deeply tied to my life there—my family, my friends, my career, my very existence. Yet, I yielded, swayed by his peculiar resilience and the undeniable fact that he lacked any form of identification. No matter which government or country, they would inevitably inquire and investigate, a hassle I wanted to avoid at all costs.

The second matter was his desire for our daughter to be legally recognized in Sumeru as his child and heir in Teyvat. This request might come with a heavy price, as it possibly mean he would have to relinquish his position as General Mahamarta.

Lastly, we agreed to seek a pardon for me concerning the label of "imposter." A title I had never chosen for myself, it hung over me like a dark cloud, and we needed to uncover the reasons behind it.

I was grateful that he didn’t insist on marriage—I simply wasn’t ready for that commitment. Truth be told, it wasn't entirely off the table; chivalry hadn’t entirely faded in Teyvat, but it often felt exaggerated to the point of absurdity. Despite its modern concepts, remnants of old-fashioned ideals lingered, presenting both blessings and burdens.

Once our conversation came to a close, he reached into his bag and pulled out the jackal cape, draping it over my shoulders. With a deft motion, he adjusted the strap around my neck and pulled the hood snugly over my head.

"For now, we need to keep your true identity a secret," he said, his tone both playful and serious. We stepped out together, and I saw Tighnari busy in his office, immersed in his work. Hala was nearby, lost in her own world of sketching. The moment she spotted me, her eyes lit up as she pointed to her rough drawings of Tighnari. Cyno, ever the playful one, swooped in and lifted her off the ground, bouncing her gently in the air. Hala’s laughter filled the room, her bond with Cyno already growing stronger as she squealed in delight.

As the hours crept deeper into the night, soft sounds drifted through the room. I could hear him and our daughter playing with Genius Invokation TCG cards. Though she didn't grasp the intricacies of the game, her delighted cheers and infectious giggles filled the air every time he tossed a card into play. Yet, as I listened to their laughter, an unsettling feeling gnawed at me—an instinct deep within, whispering that something dark loomed just beyond our happy scene.

Snezhnaya

The Tsaritsa listened intently as Tartaglia delivered his report, and her emerald eyes sparkled with intrigue at the mention of Sumeru's involvement.

"I can retrieve the child and her mother..." Tartaglia offered, his voice steady yet eager.

“It’s quite alright...” she replied, a smile gracing her lips as she affectionately ruffled his hair. He felt his cheeks flush; she relished her authority over him and her other subjects.

However, unbeknownst to all but one, she was not the true Tsaritsa. No, she was merely a player, much like the false imposter from the so-called “real world” of Earth. Once just a devoted Genshin Impact player, fate had intervened, thrusting her into the form of the Cryo Archon in Teyvat, long after the cataclysmic assault on Khaenri’ah, five hundred years before this moment. She harbored ambitions far removed from those of the original Tsaritsa.

A many years later, another player had emerged—a potential threat. She knew she had to intervene. If this newcomer managed to carve out a name for themselves, especially if they ventured to Snezhnaya, they might unravel the truth about her identity. To veer their course, she had cast a curse—or perhaps a form of magic—so that all in Teyvat would perceive the player as an imposter, a remnant of a forgotten creator. But while the three Archons, blissfully ignorant, unknowingly furthered her designs, she stumbled upon a revelation: this player had been pregnant. Spying between worlds proved to be a simple task. The child was born, a little girl, bore no constellation yet possessed a latent ability inherited from her father, along with a few powers she had unwittingly gleaned from the Archons themselves. The Tsaritsa coveted the girl, eager to add her as a pawn in her intricate game.

“My Archon?” Childe inquired, his brow furrowing with concern. She recalled the days when this had all been a mere game, when he had been her favorite character.

“Let us hold off for now,” she said with a sly smile. “Let’s allow them to bask in their false sense of hope...”

To be continued maybe

Last chapter Next chapter

Master list

Author Comment:

Our Reader-Imposter isn't actually the imposter. Unfortunately, she is merely a Genshin player framed by the Tsaritsa, who is the true imposter. I wanted to explore this concept because it's interesting to consider what happens when you get exactly what you want—so much so that you lose sight of your morals and identity in the process. I don't believe the fake Tsaritsa started as a bad person; however, power can corrupt people. She is living her dream, with her main character by her side, ruling over a powerful kingdom. Having spent 500 years in Teyvat, she has experienced the life of an archon, relishing the benefits that come with it. Be on the look out for more chapters.

The reader is uncertain about her feelings in this situation. Her mindset revolves around whether she truly loves Cyno in a romantic way.

A few chapters ago, it was highlighted that she's confused about her true emotions for him. While she was once a devoted fan of Cyno, viewing him as her favorite character, there was a moment when both characters lowered their defenses. They now share a child, and she is filled with dread at the thought of returning to Teyvat, having witnessed firsthand the darkness it can harbor.

She has a strong support system at home, on earth; her parents are wonderful and provide her with help. The idea of leaving that behind is daunting.

The reader is reluctant to marry someone she doesn’t genuinely love. On Cyno’s side, it’s clear he is a man of honor and duty. He isn’t trying to hide his past mistakes but is taking responsibility. He got her pregnant, and they have a child together. While it’s evident that he has deep feelings for her, her feelings are complicated—perhaps a mix of guilt and a newfound connection to their child.

Despite the challenges, Teyvat is not a perfect place. We’ve seen similar themes in the Caribert quest, which revolves around a father and his *cough* illegitimate son *cough*. Such occurrences are a reality in this world.

Tags

@esthelily @quietplace26 @siopaomai

[lcdrarry]

LCDrarry 2025 Master List Part 1: Podfic & Art

Dear lovely Participants, Creators, Alpha and Beta Readers, Cheerleaders, Readers and Fans of this fest,

The 7th installment of LCDrarry has come to an end. 7! That's a whole school life at Hogwarts!

We'd like to thank you all for taking part in this fest, for creating so many amazing new Drarry works for us all to enjoy, for commenting on your favourite creations, for sharing and recommending the LCDrarry gems with your friends and blog followers, and for making this fest another amazing experience for everybody.

Fests would not exist without their participants or readers. You're all amazing! And we're so happy that you chose this fest in the vast and wonderful offerings of HP and Drarry events.

And now, you can find out under the cut who created what ;D

~Your LCDrarry Mods Tami (@celilasart) and Suzi (@erin-riwen)

PS: Please have a look at the creator notes and tags on AO3 for additional information and more detailed content warnings. Thank you! PPS: You can find a link to the "Master List - Part 2: Fic" under the cut.

Enjoy!

Part 2 of this Master List with all the lovely fics can be found here.

~~~

Podfic

~~~

Title of Their Sex Tape by hiimcibee

Prompt: Brooklyn Nine Nine, 2013 | Title of Their Sex Tape Written by: hiimcibee Narrated by: reveriepi Length: 01:12:30 Rating: Teen and up Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: What are the Wizarding world's most elite law enforcers doing when they aren't catching criminals? It seems Auror Malfoy is often caught throwing food into Auror Potter's mouth when he's mid-yawn. This story isn't about Draco throwing food at Harry. What it does have is: Undercover! Heists! Draco pining for Harry! Harry being oblivious, but also can't help noticing how good Draco smells! Banters and jokes! That's about it.

Listen to it now on AO3.

~~~

catch a falling star

Prompt: "Stardust", 2007 Written by: flintandfuss Narrated by: CailynWrites Length: 3:12:08 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Blood and Injury

Summary: A star falls. A hidden evil stirs. And beyond the wards of The Wall, three friends embark on a quest in a twice-magic land. Their mission? Retrieve the fallen star and win a date with the lovely Cho Chang.

But nothing across the Wall is what it seems. And for Harry Potter, finding the star is only the beginning.

Listen to it now on AO3.

~~~

When Harry Met Draco by emmettsforest

Prompt: "When Harry Met Sally", 1989 Written by: emmettsforest Narrated by: reveriepi Length: 3:39:49 Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: A long-timeline story of Harry and Draco post-war, inspired by and with homages to When Harry Met Sally. Will they? Won't they? Buckle up, baby!

Listen to it now on AO3.

~~~

The Boy Who Died by magpie_fngrl

Prompt: "The Untamed" (CQL or MDZS), 2019 Written by: magpie_fngrl Narrated by: LauDH8 Length: 3:44:41 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Explicit sex

Summary: Harry dies in the forest. Sixteen years later, he comes back to life.

Listen to it now on AO3.

~~~

A Christmas Miracle by sleepstxtic

Prompt: "House MD", 2004 + A Christmas Carol, 2009, Robert Zemeckis Written by: sleepstxtic Narrated by: Melcarrianna Length: 4:56:08 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Illness

Summary: Draco is a world renowned Magi-Diagnostician and Harry is a Cursebreaking Healer, both working at St. Mungo's. They're not quite friends, not quite lovers, who argue at work and have sex on the weekends. And they're both fine with it, thank you very much. But when a mysterious attack in the hospital leaves Draco in a coma, Harry must do all he can to save him. All the while, a inexplicable, deadly children's illness is spreading through wizarding London. Oh, and there's some time magic thrown into the mix.

Or

A Christmas Carol with a Drarry twist.

Listen to it now on AO3.

~~~

Art

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covert operatives to boring dads (back in action)

Prompt: "Back in Action", 2025, Seth Gordon Prompted by: digthewriter Artist: digthewriter Medium: Digital Art Rating: General Audiences Warnings: CW: Kidnapping

Summary: Harry and Draco are parents to an adopted Muggleborn Meera and Teddy. They live a quiet life, until the past comes knocking.

View it now on AO3.

~~~

Hurry Pottah

Prompt: The Harry Potter series, 2001 to 2011 Prompted by: fantalf Artist: fantalf Medium: Digital Art Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None

Summary: Movie adaptation for the Wizarding best-seller "Hurry Pottah", coming this summer. Check the closest theatres.

View it now on AO3.

~~~

[ART] From a Little Spark May Burst a Flame

Prompt: "Promare", 2019, Hiroyuki Imaishi Prompted by: fantalf Artist: SoTwRIN Medium: Digital Art Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None

Summary: Harry Potter, a survivor of a burnish attack, has lived his whole life seeking justice for his parents and all the people that the burnish have hurt. However, his encounters as a new recruit of the Burning Rescue team lead him to doubt the preconceived notions he has of the enemy, especially after a chance-meeting with one Draco Malfoy.

View it now on AO3.

~~~

Wizard Diaries

Prompt: "The Apothecary Diaries", 2023 Prompted by: meandminniemcg Artist: ohkokori Medium: Digital Art Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None

Summary: "The Apothecary Diaries", 2023 - Harry as Maomao and Draco as Jinshi

View it now on AO3.

~~~

What the fork?

Prompt: "The Good Place", 2016, TV Series/Show Prompted by: Anonymous Artist: digthewriter Medium: Digital Art Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None

Summary: Harry and Draco meet in "the good place." Harry doesn't know what to make of Draco, a witty, self-centred bloke who lives a morally questionable life.

View it now on AO3.

~~~

Part 2 of this Master List with all the lovely fics can be found here.

As always, reblogs here on tumblr are very much appreciated to share all the wonderful works of LCDrarry 2025 with more people. But of course, please also shower our creators with comments and kudos on AO3 ;D Thank you! Read you next year ;)

[fantasticarcadefan]

The Stream

Part 0:The Crash

Warning:Talks about the Natlan drama,references to recent plague outbreaks, other games mentioned

It was a quiet night today, with it raining outside, and you taking refuge in your home. Your parents were on vacation, celebrating their 25th anniversary in Las Vegas for two weeks, leaving you in charge of the house, due to you being the sole occupant of your home.

Currently, you are playing Genshin Impact, having just beaten Divine Consort Radahnn in Elden Ring and needed to make sure that you didn't lose all the runes that you gained. It was sad to lose Sir Ansbach there, with him seeing you as an equal in a land where most saw you as either a lesser being, due to your status as tarnished, or prey in the eyes of the many monsters that inhabit both the lands between and the land of shadows. You couldn't help but wonder what life was like before the game, with all the monsters and beasts that lived in the lands between, especially during the shattering, where the children of the goddess Markia all fought each other for the great runes, fragments of the Elden Ring, which governed the lands between and setting up the rules of nature there.

With the release of Natlan here, you decided to go ahead and travel across Teyvat for one last time before heading off to the nation forged for war. Starting with the plains of Mondstadt, to wandering the streets of Liyue, swimming across Inazuma's islands, traversing Sumeru's forests, and hazing under Fontaine's peninsula, Teyvat was a beautiful place. One where you, like so many other players, wished that you could see with your own eyes. But alas, you couldn't, for no matter how much you could wish for it, the lands of Teyvat were kept behind the eyes of screens, preventing you from traveling there. But as you traveled across Teyvat, you couldn't help but notice new, unseen events occurring.

All across Teyvat, festivals were occurring everywhere there was a population, revolving around a "creator" of Teyvat and their "imminent descent".

In Mondstadt, the festival of freedom was being prepared, where songs were sung of how the creator gave Barbatos the strength and knowledge to help lead the revolution against the tyrant God during the Archon war, and help design the teachings of freedom for the rebels and their descendents to learn. The people of Mondstadt honor the knowledge with them helping remind their children the meaning of freedom and how they should keep it alive so their kids can have the gift their creator blessed them with..

In Liyue,the festival of the trade was occurring, which revolved around tales of the "deal of deals", where Morax made a deal with this creator, where in exchange for the knowledge to form contracts and make divine beings for his nation to be safe in the form of the Yakusha and the Adepti. he had to listen to the advice given to him by the creator, The people of Liyue honor this deal by offering deals that benefit the buyer in the long term, while having a system of favors established for when this festival is done.

In Inazuma, the nation completely changed, with it becoming a merge between Japanese culture, and something unknown with the only point of info there being based on a general history note on the corner of a planner found in Inazuma City talking about the event. "The new decor and style, now found across Inazuma, is based on a combination of Inazuman and Telaki culture, the same culture that the great creator wrote about in their scripts and desires for Teyvat, granting us the power to help make their desired eternity." EI approved the change, with her reasoning being "The creator has means to help carry their will. When I was made aware of my transgressions against the concept of eternity, I knew I had to change my ways to show eternity in the creators image", based on her new voice line regarding the festival. The culture itself bore striking similarities to the nation you were making for you and your friends

In Sumeru, the festival of knowledge was occurring, where the Akademia was retelling the tales of the various scholars that had made great achievements in progress over the years,some of which had been blessed by the creator, leading to great discoveries that helped revolutionize the world of Teyvat into the world that they know it as today. Some of the other activities there involved an open house day at the Akedamida, where parents could visit their kids to see life on the campus, as well an engineering competition between the students, with the winner being granted a position at the Research Institute of Fontaine. Nahida was seen there with Scaramouche, trying to get him to be more social and comfortable with the others there. She seems to be enjoying herself there, happy to be celebrating with her people.

In Fontaine, the festival of justice has retellings of the old myths performed at the Opera Epiclese, mainly those on how the creator set the ideals of the world all day. Outside, some of the other activities there was a fireworks show at midnight, a demonstration of all the recent technological developments across the Nation's institutes, and a new short single player game mode similar to Among Us was established, partially funded by Spina Di Rosula, and helped constructed by the prisoners at the Fortress of Meropride.

With the sudden insertion of a creator for Teyvat, players have begun to draw theories on them, what they're like, and questioning Mihoyo for allowing self-inserts into the game, altering the currently established lore. However, Mihoyo denies purposely inserting a creator into the game, and is conducting an internal investigation to identify how something this big went under their radar with how big it is, with this affecting all of the versions of the game.

Yet, a small percentage of people are questioning if the game is sentient, for modders have been unable to change games files, with attempts to access them failing and being met with the phrase "No false god shall change the design set by our creator", leading to theories that this is some kind of virus, meant to attack Mihoyo for their current Natlan designs and whitewashing.

But you put those thoughts aside, thinking about how chaotic things have been this decade. From Covid at the start of the decade, to a disease called Monkeypox spreading now, this decade went off the rails. But for now, it is not about real life, for it is time for gaming, an escape from reality, you could relax in a world where you are someone else that could make direct changes to another world.

As you begin to travel to Natlan from the outskirts of Sumeru, you find the game starting to look more realistic, with the graphics improving significantly while maintaining the style often found in Mihoyo's games. The land looked amazingly beautiful and lifelike. Yet, something felt odd. It felt familiar, despite you never seeing this land before. Your gut told you to stop playing and turn off the game, oddly, but you decided to ignore it, thinking it was nothing that would put you in danger, but you built up your guard in game in case of an ambush by monsters.

As you kept traveling in the game, being wary of monsters, you felt odd. You felt tired, yet you'd only woken up 6 hours ago. You assumed that it was just boredom and tiredness and kept walking in the game slaying monsters you came across and activating way points. Despite all this, the tiredness didn't go away. Instead, it grew, with sleep becoming heavier and heavier, before you couldn't keep your eyes open. 'Is this what those with Saint Trina feel?' you wondered, falling into a slumber. As you fell asleep, you weren't sure if you heard the traveller, Aether, tell you something, but it was just a murmur to you, as you fell asleep, unprepared for what's to come.

As you fell asleep, Genshin Impact went down for everyone, with them not being able to join on any mode. The developers were unprepared for this, for they haven't released any patches for the game, and believe this to be a cyber attack on their servers, yet only Genshin seems to be the only game down as of now, and no contact has been made with any groups claiming ownership for it.

Across video streaming platforms, Genshin Streamers and Voice Actors alike are talking about the shut down, with streams ranging from theories about its origins, purpose, and those responsible occurring, with lore streams from what has been found in the new update being talked about as well. As the streams about Genshin rage, a new stream emerges. Simply dubbed "The Hunt", there's no account on each of them, with it only showing a timer on it.

Stream will start in 1:08:00:00

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Greetings Readers this idea was given to me by @valeriele3, and I Hope you enjoyed it.

Once more, if you have any recommendations on how to improve my writing, please send it in by an ask me.

See you in the next story!

[honey-minded-hivemind]

When Fallen Angel! Reader first fell into Heck, the place was empty. With blank black dirt and Black grey skies, the only thing with color is Reader themselves.

They cried and screamed and mourned for a decade or two, hurt by what happened. But after that, they realize that this place was pretty boring. They still had their powers, which was sharper now, harsher and less delicate. But it was still theirs, and they would make this place theirs too.

They started first with the land. Filled it with forests, cities, mountains, oceans, plains, and deserts. Each part planned and crafted out as perfectly as their old paperwork.

That occupied them for a couple centuries, but they noticed the place was still awfully lonely without living beings inside. So they roll up their little sleeves and start their next project.

The first one made is ginormous. Full of scales and spikes and fire. A drop of their blood gives him life and a touch of their own power. He is full of rage. Rage at everything. He is angry at this emptiness, angry at heaven for their misdeeds against his "parent", always angry. They name him Satan, the Sin of Wrath.

They make other sins. Asmodius, Beezlebub, Mammon, Leviathan, and Belphaghor. They are all at least triple their size at any given moment, but they all love their parent. Don't let the size difference fool you, Reader is the only mature one in the group.

They split the realm into 7 layers and assign each Sin a layer much like a parent assigning kids rooms at a new house. Reader takes the highest and most empty layer. It's the closest to the portal to heaven. They aren't sure if heaven will ever open it, and they don't want to find out what they'll do about the Sins if they do.

It was around this time they realized they have physically changed, even though it started when they first fell. Horns instead of a halo, those horns, hooves (they've always had goat legs, they're just normally hidden under clothes and their hooves can easily be mistaken for shoes), eyes, and some feathers looked dipped in red, limbs stained black, slit eyes, and forked tongue. This place has changed them as much as they have changed it.

Eventually, the Sins get bored and ask for people to fill their "rings". Not seeing anything wrong with giving them responsibility, Reader makes much smaller, much less dangerous people to fill "Heck" as the Sins call it (they don't know where they got the affinity for naming stuff). Imps, Hellhounds, Succubi, Innucubi, Goat-demons, Bird Demons, and those Shark-fish demons Leviathan loves so much. They don't make any that go in their ring specifically, but some move in anyway and start the beginnings of Pentagram City. So Reader spends a couple centuries just ruling Heck and keeping their overpowered kids in check ( they love them, but the Sins can be real jerks sometimes.)

The first Sinner comes as a surprise and with the first contact Reader has with Heaven since they fell. Their home is being used as a dumping grounds for the souls Heaven doesn't want, the Sinners are practically immortal, can't leave the Pride Ring (Reader doesn't know if Heaven knows about the other rings, and has no idea how to find out), and are filling in fast. The Sinners are a pretty rough bunch in general, so Reader establishes the Overlord system to try to bring some order, but that only forces them to have regular meetings with the worst of Sinners.

When Heaven sends a second message, telling them that there are too many Sinners (whose fault is that???!!!!) and they will send an Army of Angels once a year to cull them from existence. Any damage they cause to the ring is considered holy justice and will be Reader's problem to fix.

They consider blowing up the portal in sky. (You can't. Satan tried. It didn't work)

(Sugar, I love this ♡^♡!!!)

Reader is revered, even worshipped, in Heck. They are their Maker, their Creator! Every move move make has only made Heck stronger, safer, more prosperous! The Sins love their parent (I'll say they have a few altered designs and aren't quite the same as HB or HH, but they still have their animal motif, because they're so freaking cool).

Satan (Wrath) is proud to be a mama/dada boi. He is bossy, and tries to help Reader with the overload of new demons amd sinners by being very, very harsh with the laws and justice system. You abused your ex and tried to murder them?! You are sentenced to public execution, and your ex will have the front row seat, and can choose which method you die by! You abused orphans and uses them for labor?! You are sentenced to be a servant for ALL ETERNITY, and can only do what you're told! You dared insult Reader, his mama/papa/oldest sibling/maker?! HE WILL SEND HIS LEGIONS AFTER YOU AND BROADCAST YOUR DEFEAT AND FORCED APOLOGY! (Then he'll make sure you can never smack talk them again). Satan loves Reader and his younger siblings, and he favors the Ars Goetia, but no one messes with Reader or the peace they've brought to Heck...

Asmodeus (Lust/Love) is always looking to spread the love their parent/sibling/maker has shown them/him! He was taught its important to have consent, and that their has to be certain moral codes with acts of lust or acts of love. Anyone who tries to be a creep or jerk I on their hit list. They will not tolerate such insolence! Such cruelty! Love is supposed to be wonderful, magical, and feel good! Anyone who breaks that is about to have a serious talk (shovel talk) with the birb Sin... So just be good, and try to act lovingly, like their parent, or you will have to be corrected or executed...

Beelzebub (Gluttony) loves to receive attention from Reader. That's her mama/papa/parent! They get an invite to every single one of her parties, they are sent their favorite foods cooked to perfection, and whenever they need a break, she and Belphagor will happily take them on a relaxing vacation! She likes to indulge others, to feed their hunger for food, or love, or movies, or whatever, really! That's what Reader always did for her, and they even made all the Hellhounds just for her! And they're all so cute and precious and are perfectly loyal to both her AND her parent/sibling/maker! Now, however, she doesn't want anyone hogging all the good stuff! Reader said everyone has to share, and not neglect their needs, so Beelzebub makes sure her ring is taken care of!

Mammon (Greed) is a mischievous sort. He doesn't understand why they can't just steal Heaven from those posers and then rule it all together! (See, he's sharing this once, look how good he's being!) Sadly, they can't do that. Buuut what he can do is make sure Reader's finances amd treasury are always in check and full! He's greedy for love, for power, and attention, buuut he's willing to help others... But he will be teaching them to make sure they have what they need. They shouldn't give everything away for nothing, no! That's what happened with Readee, those idiots stole everything from them, and then cast them into this pit! So for everyone's good, he will make sure none of the rings are underfunded and that he and his siblings and Reader are safe at the end of the day...

Leviathan (Envy) is jealous of the angels. They had Reader, and got to see them when they weren't sad and angry and upset! They got to have Reader at their best self! They had ALL of Reader's love, then TOSSED it away like trash! Well, Heck no! Reader is now THEIRS, and they and their siblings and Heck will keep them! Take THAT! They aren't jealous of their siblings, but they do make sure they always have a day out eith Reader every week or so. They're making sure everyone knows who Reader is, and will paint them in the best light possible. (They totally rile up the Overlords to get back at them for being slimy. Gotta make them jealous enough to get rid of each other after all!)

Belphagor (Sloth) is a sleepy little demon. They appreciate Reader keeping them fed, and happy, and safe, and giving them others made in their image. They like to take things easy, and make it easier on others. So they make medicine that can prevent disease, or that can calm anxiety, or even some simple sleeping syrup for those who have insomnia. They want to help those who need help, and they should relax. They make sure to keep their ring healthy and relaxed, as Reader never wanted them to be overworked or anxious or exhausted all the time...

All the Hellborn are told of how Reader, seeing the Sins so alone, went and made them people, who would bring new ideas and light into this dark pit. They would live there, and be happy, and they'd be safe from Heaven's rule and burning light...

(There is a whole museum dedicated to Reader, and the creation of Heck and it's denizens).

Sinners were... well, they weren't always great people. Some were downright awful, or evil. But some were just unfortunate people who weren't bad, but broken, who'd been dealt a rough hand, who were at the wrong place at the wrong titime. Reader set up Overlords to take care of them, but... well, sometimes they had had be pruned, if they were too vile or too bloodthirsty... Sinners know Reader exist, but are not sure how far they can push their luck with them. They all just hope to please this new tiny being, and try to make the best of their new world...

Heaven is on Reader's sh*t list. The adult angels are about to purge Heaven of its "fallen" and try to set things straight. Because nononO, they are not exterminating these people, sinner or not! Those are PEOPLE.

Let's just say Heaven is about to be under new management, and that peace between Heaven and Heck might be possible...

[highladyofhewncity]

DELETED SCENE FROM ACOTAR BOOK 1: Nesta tries to reach Prythian

Nesta was going to go insane.

It was unbearable to watch her sister and father happily trot about their new house, acting like Feyre had gone off to see a distant aunt. So many times she thought she was misremembering, but whenever that happened, she would walk to the table, which hadn’t been replaced for sentimental purposes, and run her fingers along the claw marks on the table.

The scene would flash again in her mind. The beastly figure with golden fur and canines the length of her forearm. Green eyes far too intelligent and observant to be a mere forest creature. Dark brown claws that curled into a C and could absolutely rip out her throat. His enormous body covered the doorway and cast shadows across the house. Nesta had been shaking, but she’d shoved Elain behind her, gripping her skirt to remind herself she was there. If one of them were to escape, best it was her. Elain, the grower and creator, who saw the good in things. She could do great things with the right resources.

But the beast hasn’t come to kill them all. He’d merely come for one person- her. Feyre- the one who had slain his friend.

It should’ve been her. Guilt slid up Nesta’s throat, slick as oil. She should’ve lied and said it was her who’d killed the faerie. She was the eldest; it was her duty as the head of the house. Though Feyre was equipped with weapons of her own; her archery would surely come in handy.

Nesta couldn’t stand it- just sitting here waiting to see if she came back, playing tea with Elain and her father. She pressed her eyes shut, taking deep breaths. There was one thing she could do- if she was still around.

Nesta put on her warmest dress and put on the cloak Feyre had made from the faerie. She wrapped a blue scarf around her neck and put on leggings and boots underneath the dress. She braided her hair back and put on a pair of earmuffs, then headed outside.

The winter had been particularly torturous this year. Nesta wondered if it had anything to do with Prythian and whether that faerie being so close to the human lands was a coincidence at all.

Her feet crunched in the snow as she walked through blisteringly cold winds, squinting as her eyes continuously watered. She could feel her hands turning to ice, and crossed her arms so that they went beneath the fur coat. She could hardly see, forced to rely on instinct and memory to guide her way towards the mercenary’s house.

She finally reached a relatively well-kept inn made from wood. The door creaked as she pulled it open, walking inside. An elevated wooden countertop acted as the service desk, and a bored young boy whose eyes seemed seconds from closing stood behind it, head in his hands.

“Excuse me,” Nesta called. The boy jumped up, scrambling imaginary papers before his eyes landed on her. His eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and his ears turned pink as he stared at her.

“Holy shit, you are an angel,” the boy whispered. A snide remark simmered within Nesta, but she stamped it down as she recalled that the boy couldn’t be older than 16. “Thank you. I was wondering if there was a mercenary staying here?”

He nodded. “She’s in room 3.”

Nesta nodded in gratitude, walking towards the back where the rooms were situated. One, two, three..aha! Nesta rapped her knuckles on the door.

A few moments later, it was opened, and Nesta found herself face to face with the mercenary for the first time since that encounter in the town square.

Now that she was looking at her properly, Nesta was struck by how beautiful she was. Thick arched brows, caramel skin, hooked nose, full lips, and glossy black hair that flowed to her waist. She was in her pajamas and not the mercenary fit she had been in before, and she looked softer, younger. Nesta realized that she was probably only a couple of years older than her.

“Hello,” Nesta said. The mercenary’s brows flew up.

“I remember you,” she answered.

Nesta nodded, acknowledging their past meeting. “Then you must remember my sisters.”

“Yes.”

Nesta let her face crumple at last. It felt good to let her emotions show; god knew she had been bottling them up for so long. “Feyre has been taken into Prythian.”

The mercenary knit her brows. “Come in,” she whispered.

It was a relief to take off the scarf, coat, and boots. Soon, Nesta and the mercenary (who she’d learned was named Helushka) were sitting on the small sofa, sipping hot tea as they exchanged stories.

“I’m astonished your sister survived,” Helushka remarked after Nesta finished her story about how Feyre had been kidnapped. “If the faerie had gotten that close to her, it could’ve killed her before she even got the chance to release her bowstring.”

Nesta nodded. “Feyre said that the animal acted…odd. Didn’t even fight. Whoever that wolf was…it seemed like it wanted to die.”

Helushka tapped her chin with her forefinger. “Why? What faerie would cross to the human lands just to die at the hands of one of us?”

“I don’t know,” Nesta admitted. “But something is certainly up in Prythian- and it’s affecting our winter too.”

Helushka raised a brow. “You think our winter is so long because of Prythian’s magic?”

Nesta grunted in assent. “Don’t you agree that the whole thing seems rather odd?”

“I do,” Helushka mused. “But I’m not sure there’s anything we can do but wait it out.”

“You could help me,” Nesta suggested. “I need to get my sister out of there.”

Helushka’s eyes widened, and she nearly dropped her teacup. “Are you mad?” she exclaimed.

Nesta stared her down. “I am utterly serious. You’re a mercenary. You’re the survivor. Help me. Please. If you care about humans…” her voice trailed off.

Helushka shook her head. “Of course I care about humans, but this is suicide, Nesta. What are you, a Child of the Blessed? No human who went to Prythian has ever come back.”

Nesta stood up abruptly, slamming her tea on the coffee table. Some hot brown liquid splashed out as Nesta stormed towards her forgotten attire. “I’ll find a Child of the Blessed to accompany me, then,” she snapped. “I am going to Prythian, and no one is going to stop me.”

Helushka jumped up too, following Nesta. “I am trying to save your life, Nesta! Your sister is as good as gone- accept it!”

Nesta shook her head stubbornly. “No; she is alive. I can feel it. If he wanted to kill her, he would’ve done it right there. He needs her for something.”

“Stop this madness,” Helushka breathed. Nesta turned around to snap at her when she realized how close Helushka had gotten. Their chests brushed up against each other as Nesta stared into Helushka’s eyes. She noticed a fleck of green in her deep brown eyes. Nesta watched as Helushka’s eyes dropped to her lips. Nesta slowly stepped back.

“I can’t,” Nesta murmured. “Surely you understand; after all your brother was killed by the Fae.”

He’d been a mere boy when he’d been murdered in cold blood- albeit by Hybernian fae rather than Prythian fae, as she had lived far too distant from the wall to be targeted by these particular faeries. She had tried to protect him, and in doing so had received brutal punishment. After killing her brother right before her eyes, they pinned her down, raped her, and painted her body with his blood.

After that moment, she had resolved to never be at their mercy again. Nesta could understand that. She had never felt more powerless than in the moment that monster had invaded their humble cottage.

Helushka sighed, pinching her nose. “I’m going to regret this. But I’ll try- for your sister.”

Nesta bowed her head in acknowledgment. “You have my eternal gratitude.”

Preparing for the trip took weeks. Nesta was getting stir-crazy at home, but at least she had something to look forward to every day: planning with Helushka. It felt like she was doing something, for once. And that felt good.

Finally, they had enough food, clothes, first aid, and weaponry to begin the trip. Helushka met up with Nesta at the edge of the forest where Feyre used to hunt, offering a gloved hand.

“It’s best if we stick together,” she explained, as though holding hands were essential to that. Nesta grinned and didn’t reply; she liked that Helushka wanted to hold her hand.

Walking was more exhausting than she thought. Despite her extensive dance lessons, she did not have enough stamina to brave this forest. After about half a day, her limbs were so heavy that she collapsed.

Helushka caught her by the waist. “Easy, tiger,” she murmured teasingly, lifting her up as if she were no more than a bouquet. Nesta blushed as Helushka carried her over her shoulders. “How are you not tired?” Nesta demanded. Helushka merely chuckled. “Years of training, sweetheart,” she purred. Ugh. Insufferable woman. But Nesta let her carry her for an hour or two before they settled down for the evening.

Nesta’s stomach growled. “I’m hungry,” she complained.

Helushka rummaged in their sacks and pulled out a couple of sandwiches, handing one to Nesta. “There: dinner.”

Nesta chomped on her sandwich morosely. Despite only having had comfort for a couple of months, her body had already become accustomed to three full-course meals. It was so easy to get used to luxury. Now she was back in the cottage.

Not long after, Nesta began to yawn. “Go to sleep,” Helushka told her. “I’ll take first watch.”

Nesta tried to protest, but she yawned again. “Ok…wake me up for the second watch,” she mumbled. “Of course,” Helushka answered.

Spoiler: she did not wake her up. Nesta slept through the night and into the morning until Helushka gently shook her awake.

“Nes, there’s coyotes,” she hissed. “Get up.”

Nesta jumped awake at coyotes. “Coyotes?” she whispered. “What do we do?”

“We can’t outrun them,” Helushka said. “We’ll have to climb a tree. Hold on to your sack.”

Helushka found a good tree and began to scale it with ease. Nesta had far more difficulty. She wrapped her legs around the tree like she was trying to strangle it. She grunted and cursed as her fingers constantly slipped from the precarious handholds of the tree. She gripped one branch for too long, and when it snapped, Nesta gasped as she tried to move toward the tree trunk, scraping her knee.

Helushka came down a few branches, offering a hand. “Come on,” she whispered. Nesta strained to reach Helushka’s hand, feeling something pop in her arm as Helushka gripped her hand firmly and pulled her up effortlessly. God she was strong.

“Now what do we do?” Nesta whispered.

“We hope they don’t see us,” Helushka answered. Then she handed Nesta a knife. “I hope we don’t need this,” she breathed.

Nesta stayed as quiet and still as she could, praying that the coyotes would just walk on by. After a few minutes, Nesta saw one coyote in the clearing. She didn’t dare breathe. The coyote sniffed around their encampment for a few moments, before looking right up at them.

Fuck.

Helushka released an arrow from her bow, striking the coyote right in the eye. The coyote whimpered in pain, falling to the ground, just as another coyote began to climb up the tree.

Nesta jumped onto the back of the coyote, driving her knife right into his neck. She felt blood seep onto her hands before she pulled out the knife, reaching out for Helushka’s hand. More coyotes began to arrive. Helushka and Nesta crouched weapons in hand, ready to attack.

But the coyotes spotted their wounded companions, began moaning, then bounded away. Nesta thumped her head against the tree in relief.

Helushka released a couple more arrows, finishing off the two injured coyotes. Then they climbed down (more like fell down in Nesta’s case), and Helushka pulled out her bloody arrows, shoving them back in her quiver.

“These would make nice blankets,” Helushka remarked. She wrapped one around her shoulders, offering the other to Nesta. She was right: the coyote fur was incredibly warm.

They ran out of food sooner than anticipated.

It was Nesta’s fault. She couldn’t bear the terrible conditions and devoured twice the food allocated to her. Unphased, Helushka had shot down a deer and started a fire.

“I’m so sorry,” Nesta said for about the 70th time. Helushka waved her off. “Don’t be. You’ll need your strength, Nesta.”

She was still shaking from that coyote attack. She’d changed her clothes since then, but she could still see the coyote inches from her, about to pounce. But she forged on; she wasn’t about to be defeated by glorified dogs.

Helushka had barely got any sleep, having insisted on taking the watch duty every day. But that was about to change.

“You sleep. I’ll take watch,” Nesta announced. Helushka opened her mouth to protest, and Nesta covered her mouth with her hand. “Uh ah. You shall not protest.” She guided Helushka’s head over to her lap, stroking her hair after she settled down. “You’ve been working so hard.”

“Mmph,” she got out in a muffled tone before she was out in a light.

Nesta hated guard duty. It was the fucking worst, sitting there wide awake, waiting for something bad to happen. The crickets chirping gave the nighttime a certain eeriness that made Nesta’s heart pound. What if a wolf pounced on them? Or worse, a faerie?

She was beginning to doubt every decision she had ever made. She was an idiot to think she could make it to Prythian. She was only a few days in and she was already half-dead.

Nesta felt her eyes getting heavy. No, she could not sleep now. For fuck’s sake. A few minutes’ nap wouldn’t hurt, would it…?

Spoiler: it was not a few minutes’ nap.

Nesta woke up screaming as a snake bit her right on the forearm. Within moments, Helushka dug out Nesta’s knife and sliced the snake in half. Nesta began to cry.

“You’re lucky that snake wasn’t venomous,” Helushka grumbled. “Next time, I’m staying on guard duty.”

“Oh shut up,” Nesta muttered. “You needed the sleep.”

Helushka glared at her for a moment. Nesta glared right back. Then Helushka chortled and shook her head, smiling. “Let me wrap your bandage.”

The forest got quieter and quieter as they reached Prythian, as if even the animals knew to stay far away from the Fae. Nesta trudged along, absolutely done. There were blisters on her feet and hands, bite wounds on her arm, scratches on her knees, and she was quite certain she had dislocated her shoulder. Her stomach rumbled from hunger, her legs and arms utterly sore. Her cheeks were raw from the cold, her lips cracked and bleeding. Even Helushka was losing steam; she hadn’t offered to pick Nesta up today, and her steps were slow and heavy.

Nesta’s heart rate kicked up as she heard the roar of a bear. She instinctively reached for Helushka’s hand, shaking.

“If it comes near us, run towards it,” she whispered.

Nesta blinked. “What?”

“Bears will chase almost anything, but if you chase it, it will run. Because prey doesn’t run towards the predator. It suggests that you’re something worse.”

Nesta wasn’t sure they looked so impressive after days of struggling, but adrenaline made her body feel strong again. She raised her arms and bellowed as the enormous shaggy brown bear appeared before them. And against every instinct in her body, Nesta ran towards the bear, Helushka following suit.

And the bear began to run away. So Nesta continued yelling and chasing until the bear was out of sight.

Helushka and Nesta both dropped to the floor in exhaustion. They inched towards each other and curled up into a ball, drawing warmth from each other.

“I’m too tired to hunt,” Helushka mumbled. Nesta didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure she could.

Days went into nights, and there was no Prythian in sight. Helushka’s face had hollowed out from weight loss, and Nesta was sure she was no better. As they sat by the fire on the fifteenth day, eating leftover squirrel, Nesta finally gave in.

“There is no use,” she said hoarsely. They hadn’t spoken in days, trying to conserve energy. “We must go home.”

Helushka nodded in agreement. “I really am sorry, Nesta.”

Nesta didn’t answer that.

The journey back was tortuous. They were nearly killed by a moose, only surviving because the moose heard a bigger predator coming and ran away. Nesta and Helushka had followed him, not wanting to be the meal of whatever was big enough to hunt a moose.

Nesta began to fantasize about hot meals cooked by maids made with fresh spices from Elain’s garden. The utter relief she felt when they finally got home could not be overstated.

Nesta pulled Helushka into a hug. “Thank you for braving that journey with me…even if we failed,” she said.

“You tried your best, Nesta. Ultimately, that’s all you can do,” Helushka cajoled. Nesta nodded, trying to convince herself of that. When she finally pulled away, she found Helushka staring at her with something like awe.

“You’re an amazing person, you know that?” Helushka said. Nesta smiled and looked away, feeling bashful. Helusha grabbed her chin with one hand and gently turned her face towards her.

Helushka was staring at her lips, just as she had in the inn. Same-sex romance was frowned upon in the ton, yet Nesta found herself leaning closer.

“You’re amazing, for coming with me,” Nesta replied. Then she closed the distance between them.

The kiss was soft, brief, and hopeful. When Nesta pulled away, Helushka was beaming. “Now that I think about it, that hellish journey was worth it after all.”

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Information

I am bored and so decided to go write a little thing on this as I had an idea again.

First Drabble over here. original prompt by @spotaus

Prev Drabble

Next Drabble in chronological order here

This one is around the time after the gang met back up again to return to Nightmare but found the castle starting to collapse. about a week after they left.

Also, apology in advance. I slightly re-did the story of Dream and Nightmare. Just to fit it me more. The original story you can find with Jokublog as their original creator.

Warning, unbeta'ed and unedited as always lmao

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Dust sighs as he glances around the empty and dark halls. The whole castle so far had been empty and deserted.

Because they had deserted him. They had betrayed him. They had-

Dust shakes the thoughts and familiar voice out of his skull. No time. They need to find somekind of clue.

Dust looks from side to side as he thinks. The four of them had searched the bottom floor together but found nothing. Horror had split up to search the forest and gardens. Cross went to search all storage rooms. Killer had went to search the basement and cellar.

Which left the normal rooms for Dust to search.

And he had found nothing. Dust groans as he slides to the ground. Where he just sits for a moment.

It didn't make sense. Because Dust had noticed stuff being gone from their rooms. Dust know one of his old hoodies disappeared but it would be the first time they had a laundry mishap. But the other rooms it felt like stuff had been missing.

But there were no signs of breakins or anything. Nothing that suggested that anyone had been here. Which probably won't be for long.

With how difficult it had been for them to even get back here... It is obvious that the magic keeping everything together and hidden is failing.

It is a matter of time before the universe is no longer hidden and then the Stars will come and mess things up even more.

Which... Nightmare most likely realised. And so he left...

Dust groans as he covers his face and thinks. Fuck. They didn't even know what was affecting boss. What had been causing him to grow weaker and younger. To cause him to lose his powers.

And they FUCKING left! Like fucking assholes and ungrateful little shits!

No wonder Nightmare decided to leave as soon as he realised this universe was a lost cause.

Dust sighs as he looks around the hall before his sight stops at one last door. The door he hadn't dared to enter.

It is stupid.

It isn't like they had been good followers before. With them just abandoning the person who had saved them from their own dying AUs as soon as he lost power.

Yet it felt disrespectful to just enter his room.

Dust shakes his skull again and gets up. He marches over to the door and pauses. He raises his hand and knocks.

No answer.

Dust waits for a moment before knocking again, a tiny bit louder.

Still no answer. Dust still waits before trying the door. He isn't sure if he wants it too open or be locked.

The door opens.

Dust stays still for a moment before pushing the door fully open. The room is dark and empty nad Dust makes sure to check all hiding places.

But still nothing.

Dust sighs before aglimmer of silver catches his eye. He tilts his skull and walks over to the bed. On it lays a shining silver band. Dust hums as he studies it and rubs some of the old dust and grim off of it. only to reveal a crescent moon.

Dust stares at it for a long time. It... it kinda looks like the crown simular to Dream's but it is so much smaller. It looks so much more fragile and dull. Dust takes a seat on the bed as he rubs the soft metal. It is clearly old. Very old. But it seems cared for.

Why... Why would he leave it?

Dust looks around the room again and stops to stare at one of the bedside tables. The drawer isn't completely shut. He pulls it over and immediantly sees that a false bottom has been removed and not bother to be put back. Dust looks at the crown and the drawer before testing it out.

The crown fits perfectly in the drawer and once shut you wouldn't even see it unless you knew it was there. He removes the crown again before turning quickly to the other bedside table. Dust dive crawls over the bed and reaches the other side.

He opens the drawer and removes all the pens and papers and notes from it. It seems to be notes on possible universes for them to raid and notes on what to pick up from where. Small 'to do' lists. The drawer is soon empty and he feels around it.

Click.

Another false bottom pops open and Dust grins as the removes it. Only for the grin to fall as all he can see is an old fairytale book. Dust puts the drawer piece to the side and takes out the book.

It is old. Older than any of Nightmare's books in his library. Older than the castle now looks. Even broken and falling apart.

Dust sits back upright and crosses his legs as he lays the book in his lap. The cover shows a large tree with a female like figure next to it. Golden letters at the top spell out DreamTale.

Dust freezes before he quickly opens the picture book and starts reading.

It is like a childrens tale. A fairytale.

A young powerful woman by the name of Nim. The keeper of emotions who spreads them across the multiverse. Who prefers her privacy. Positive and negative send out as equals and spread where there is a need.

A man. A mortal. Bold and brass. Greedy for things not his. Goes to her and demands a power he has no right to. A fight happens and Nim wins. But the cost is high.

She has been hurt. Hurt by the mortal who she had to kill. The mortal who forced her to bloody her hands. Make her guilty of a crime she never wanted to commit. With her last power she tries to create a way to continue. A way to exist. Before her, two spirts appear.

One is a golden light made of hope and dreams. positivity shines out as the spirit seems happy already. Nim smiles at them and names them Dream. As the little spirit already seems to be a dreamer and a being of hope. A name fitting for the small spirit.

A second spirit, she hadn't expected, takes form moments after the first and Nim pauses. She ends up naming this one Nightmare, only because they seem to be the oposite of Dream in ever way with their dimmer light and purple colour.

Dust stops and frowns "Wow lady. Talk about clear favouritism with your children." Dust frowns as he traces the picture of two small balls of light in the hands of the woman, Nim.

He shakes his skull and continues reading. For how old the book looks it isn't that long.

Nim felt her time nearing its end and searches the multiverse for a vessel to fit her children. Something that can withstand their magic and beings.

Many failures as he desperation hightens and hightens. Until she comes across a skeleton who just shines out with briliant positivity. She doesn't think and uses the last of her powers to recreate that form for her children.

Nim becomes one with her tree as her children begin to move their new bodies. Young and new to the world. Only been made days before. But they have one another and the tree.

Dust glares "Are you kidding me? You give them just... bodies which clearly only fit one of your sons?! What the hell lady?" Dust takes a deep breath before continuing to read. Why doesn't the multiverse know this? Most of their stories are known across it by now.

Neither Dream nor Nightmare know what to do. Both are young and only just been born. Luckily their mother is still with them to guide them. She warns them away from mortals and tells her children it is now their duty to protect her and her tree. But most important the apples that grow from it.

The golden and purple apples. The golden apples will cure any illness and body harm. While the purple apples will heal any magical illness and mental harm.

Nim tells them again and these apples can not be given away as they also hold the key to keeping the multiverse in balance concerning positivity and negativity. That Dream can only touch and pick the golden apples and Nightmare can only touch and pick the purple ones.

But that they should never eat one. Never.

Both the children look up at their mother before nodding. They promise they will do their job and duty and protect her and her apples.

Dust huffs "Wow. Child labor now lady? You are so getting the mother of the year award." he continues reading.

Time passes as Dream and Nightmare stay with the tree. The live and sleep under it and relax near it. That is until the settlers come and people make a village nearby. Nim reminds them again that mortals are not to be trusted.

Dream however wishes to meet them. See who they are and make friends. Nightmare tries to convince his twin to stay near the tree. They job is to guard it and make sure no one tries to take the apples. Dream reassures Nightmare that he can do that by himself before going down to the village.

The villagers are quick to adore Dream. It is no surprise after all. Dream radiates an aura that makes those around him happy and he is happy to help. He goes to the village daily to help around and make friends.

Nightmare however is more distrustful. He remains near the tree and makes sure no one tries to take from it. The villagers are unhappy wiht him. How dare he keep the treasures of the tree to himself. He tries to explain he can't give them the apples but the villagers are quick to leave.

Dream reinforces the rule that no one can be given an apple and the villagers seem to accept this easier.

It continues on. The village keeps expanding quickly and Nightmare shares his worry that they will eventually hurt their tree and mother. Dream nods and promises his brother he will talk with the villagers.

The villagers do not stop expanding but instead gift Dream a large cape with his symbol of the sun on it. To wrap around the tree to reinforce it is special and no one is allowed to cut it.

Nightmare and Dream happily work together to secure it around the tree.

As Dream grows more and more loved by all those around him Nightmare grows more distrusted and shunned. The villagers agree him to be a bad omen and if something bad happens it must be his fault. After all, Dream is the one who helps them and makes them happy. That must mean that Nightmare is the source of what is bad.

Nightmare tries to explain this isn't the case but no one listens. He tries to explain to Dream what the villagers say but Dream just tells him to spend more time with them and get to know them.

Words change into actions. But Nightmare stays quiet. It is no use. And he doesn't wish to make his brother sad.

Wounds and broken bones are eaisly hidden by long sleeves and excuses are easy to make up. Nightmare doens't like lying but no one beleives his truths anyway. His mother reminds him that mortals are not to be trusted but try to keep Dream happy.

It all comes down to one faithful day. Nightmare begs his brother to stay with the tree but Dream had been promised a nice cup of tea from one of his friends.

Dream promises Nightmare he will return quickly after the tea.

Dream drinks it and feels sleepy soon after.

As Dream rests the villagers band together to take what they are owned. After all. They have lived her for so long and that terrible Nightmare refused to share the apples and forbid Dream from sharing them as well.

Nightmare sees them coming and reminds them again. He isn't allowed to give them the apples. As he had reminded them for the last six years of his short life-

"Six?!" Dust stares at the word. Soul beating fast. Six. They had been six. Nightmare had been six! Those... those disgusting creatures saw a babybones. a six year old and younger before that. and decided he was a horrible creature?

Dust has to take deep breaths to calm his racing soul and thundering magic. It is no use. Contain it for now. Read. Learn. Plan. Then act.

Dust quickly finds the spot where he had left off.

As he had reminded them for the last six years of his short life. He isn't allowed to share the golden apples. He can give them a purple apple-

But as soon as he offers the villagers grow more angry. How dare he try and hurt them with those harmful apples?! The apples that no doubt will cause harm and poison them!?

Nightmare was confused and unsure what to say. None of the apples cause harm. They all have ways to help someone in their own way. They just also help the multiverse as a whole. Nightmare steels his nerves and hides his fear as he repeats what he alwyas said 'I can't pick the golden apples for you. I am not allowed. Please leave.' after which he turns and returns towards the tree.

This is when a village grabs their chance. They grab a large rock and bring it down on Nightmare's skull.

It caves nad Nightmare falls down. His head hurts and he can't seen. His soul cries out for his twin. Brother. Brother where are you? Why aren't you back. You promised. You promised me.

Nightmare watches as the villagers near the tree. His mother asking and begging him to help her. That the villagers are killing her and that Nightmare needs to do something to defend her.

Nightmare doens't know what to do. he is afraid. He will die. an apple falls near him. a golden one. and in desperation he grabs it.

The golden apple's colour changes from the beautiful gold to a sickly black. it drips and shimmers. it smells sour and feels wrong. But Nightmare is afraid. He doesn't want to die. and selfishly. Eats the apple.

Dust glares "Selfish?! Selfish?!" he seethes as he looks away from the words and back to the drawing. It looks like a pencil drawing and Dust feels slightly ill. because most of his skull is done in the drawing. the crown broken and dented next to him as the rock caused most of the tiny skull to break. his whole right side is done until just above the mouth. the broken broken edge continues right over the nose bridge and just barely misses the left socket before going all the way around.

The top of his skull had been gone.

Those... They... a six year old. a babybones.

Dust's sockets find the next line and continues on.

Once he starts to eat he can't stop. As Nightmare's own negative emotions and being had infected the pure positivity that the apples were made of. As Nightmare ate the apple all of his own negative emotions came back to him. all the pain he had felt. all the anger, sadness, loneliness and betrayal. All of it came to him and it covered him.

Selfishly, Nightmare felt safe for the first time in a while. uncaring that the very thing protecting him. Would become the undoing of everyone.

Instead of just acceptance Nightmare chose the path of destruction. Once he ate one apple he could not stop himself. He ate and ate and ate.

This is when Dream wakes up. To screams on the couch of his dear friend. He looks outside and sees the tree on fire. He rushes outside and runs towards their hill. towards his brother and mother.

Only to see the damage his brother had caused-

"Are you kidding me?!" Dust glares "It wasn't his fucking fault! Why!? How!? Why faulting him when all he did was try to finally protect himself?! To finally fight back against the abuse?! To... to... fight... the fate this stupid multiverse gave him and... and..."

To... break out of his prison... to escape...

No wonder Nightmare grabbed all of them... No wonder he freed them... and what did they do? They left him alone when he needed help.

Dust shakes and ignores the fact his own view is getting misty.

Only to see the damage his brother had caused. Dream has shocked. He had always defended his brother when the villages were rude about him. Always said that his brother was jsut shy and needed patience. only for his brother to do the very thing the villagers had said he would. That Nightmare would destroy them all.

Dream stood frozen at the edge of the field. The hill covered in the dead and blooding bodies by the cut down form of his dying mother. Dream couldn't hear any words in their mother's panicked and pained screaming.

He runs forwards and reaches for her. A hand touches his shoulder and Dream turns only to be meet with a horrifying image of a black melting creature. In his panic he strikes out and hits the being in the face.

The creature takes a few steps back before raises a hand to touch the spot where he had been hit. Dream looks up afraid before his soul gives a panicked pulse. Finally seeing just who it was and who he accidentally hit in his panic.

Dust huffs "Oh yeah. excuse all of his actions because he is afraid yet punish Nightmare for it. Real good story telling there narator."

Nightmare, now corrupted, pauses before turning back to the tree that had been cut down, their dying mother. And pulls off another apple before he eats it as he stares at his brother 'Well look at that. The betrayer finally showed up. Had enough of leaving your brother to deal with everything alone? With the pain on his own? Wanted to hurt him yourself I see.'

Dream shakes as he holds out a hand 'Nightmare. Nightmare please. stop this. this isn't you.'

Nightmare tilts his skull at his brother. negativity dripping of his form. No longer hurting from physical wounds. all that burns through him is rage. Dream had left him. Dream had never been there for him. Ngihtmare smirks. 'You finally decided to see what your brother is doing? What is wrong? Wanted to make sure your dear friends had time to hurt him first? As always? Because he deserved it?'

Dream shakes 'I don't understand... why...' something hits his foot. Dream looks down and sees another apple. another golden apple. He reaches for it and picks it up. Unlike with Nightmare it doesn't get corrupted. Dream's being is perfect for the positivity and the healing it provides.

Nightmare eyes the apple before looking at Dream 'Give me that.'

Dream shakes his skull and hugs the apply close. Only for his soul to absorb the positivity. Nightmare glares but ends up laughing loudly. Dream takes a few steps back but Nightmare just smirks 'Fitting. Even when your own brother is dying you will defend those stupid villagers first.'

Dream shakes as the apple is now part of him and part of his soul 'Dying? Nighty... please i don't understand.'

Nightmare doesn't react as he turns towards the village, where more ligths are on 'That is because you never listened.' and Nightmare left towards the village. To hurt those.

Dream tried to follow but the negativity around him made him weak. The negativity his brother caused and powered made him lose his powers. With shock he realised that he was turning to stone. Dream tried to reach for his brother. To call for him.

But nobody came.

It isn't until many many years later that Dream breaks free of his stone prison. One of his old villagers friends helps him out fo the stone and tells him all abuot how Nightmare had destroyed everything in a fit of jealous rage.

Dream shakes and says it must be something else. that Ngihty would never. He begs that it must have been the apple. That eating the apple corrupted him. That the corruption must have destroyed him and taken over and done all those terrible things.

His friend asks him what he plans to do now.

Dream thinks before deciding that he will find a way to fix the corruption. the cure Nightmare and fix all the wrongdoings he has done.

The years that follow Dream grows into a formiddable warrior of light and hope. Someone who holds the care for everyone in his soul and meant to battle the darkness. Dream promises himself that he will save his brother from the corruption and makes sure everyone has their chance for a happy future.

The end

Dust stares at it. What about the balance? What about the fact that Nim clearly set one up for success and the other for failure.

What about the fact that Nightmare had been six and had been abused for years on end until that tiny six your old broke under the pressure.

That that same corruption everyone feared was the one thing keeping him safe and giving him power?

Dust stares at the pages for a long time. Things starting to shift around in his mind as a clearer picture starts to form.

"Dusty? Are you here? Found anything?"

Dust traces the crown and feels a small dent and finds the fixed cracks.

All this time he had been working on the balance and trying to right his own wrongs. That had never been wrongs, at least not in Dust's opinion. The wrongs a desperate child made o finally feel safe.

And the very multiverse and fate decided to punish him for it.

Dust's grip tightens on the crown. And they had abandoned him. As soon as his powers started to leave. No doubt the magic of the apples reaching their limits. As soon as Nightmare started to return to his original form. They abandoned him.

Nightmare is somewhere in the multiverse. As the original version of himself. the version he was before he ate the apples. six years old and probably hurt.

Woudl he even have his memories?

"Dust?"

Dust looks up from the book and sees three familiar faces in the doorway. Cross frowns as he takes a few steps closer "You are... crying."

Dust doens't bother to fix it as he feels the book "Nightmare... Nightmare was never an adult."

Shock as Killer is suddenly by his side "Waht the fuck do you mean?"

Dust just hands both the book and crown over as he speaks "He was suposed to be six." he nods at the book "See that name? Notice any specific pattern?"

Killer stares "Dreamtale-" he stops and stares at them as he points from person to person "Dusttale, Dust. Horrortale, Horror. X-tale, Cross." Killer stops and stares down "Dreamtale..."

Dust nods "I don't think... I don't think Nightmare was ever originally meant to leave his story."

Killer opens the book and starts reading. Dust sees Horror and Cross join him as well. That is okay. Dust needs a moment.

They are going to have to find him before Nightmare finishes referting back to his real age. Dust does not want to know if those wounds that he had had would remain.

----

First. Prev. Next.

[eevee-genshin-blog]

How'd This Happen?! Pt.2

Holy- I wasn't expecting everyone to like this; But thanks for the support! Please enjoy this part two of the story!

You stared at the now knocked out Razor. You maybe shouldn't have used a mix of Geo and Electro to knock him out... Now you felt bad, Razor wasn't one of your mains, but you did max out friendship with him. Wait a damn minute... What if this is like that one idea you read on Tumbler?! Where the higher Friendship the character had a better chance of recognizing you! That would give you at least one or two safe people per Nation!!

You're getting off track.. You shake your head and walk over to Razor, and sniff him, you couldn't rely on your human form since, one you didn't have clothes, and two you didn't want to mess up anything; After all... You liked being free and chaotic.

You huff and headbutted Razor, as hard as you could do. It didn't wake him up, but it left a bruise on him. You nudged him, to no avail.

Now how were you gonna fix this... Razor most likely had someone with him, and if they find Razor they'll find you; A black cat with a moon marking on your head, braided fur, blue, silver, and gold paint on you, and a Hilichurl mask on your side...

(The mask wouldn't work on your face, you couldn't see through it, and it was still too big even after the Hilichurls made it so small.)

Yea, this could risk you, but. What's gonna happen? You were starting to get bored now... So a chase would be fun... But you rather not, what if they realized you were the real deal? You didn't want to stay still. But you were starting to dislike the False on the throne.

Actually, you kinda wanted to punch her in the face now... But you'll let them rule for longer. You needed to wake up Razor or move him somewhere. Maybe Cyro would wake him up...

You take a deep breath and gently nuzzle Razor's neck, the boy in question still doesn't wake up. Now, you felt pretty bad about that... Maybe you shouldn't use two elements to knock someone out- A noise behind you, sounding like a person made you panic.

Without thinking, you swirl around and bite someone's leg, Electro bursts once you make contact and the person hits the ground... You let go and freeze... You knocked out Bennett...

Damn it..

You felt bad now... You dragged them into the forest mainly because you didn't want anyone to see them passed out, nor did you like the idea of leaving the to the Hilichurls... So, they were tied to a tree(with a lot of vines), but they're awake, and not every happy... Bennett's eyes fell onto you, "Erm.. H- hey there... Can you help us?"

Holy shit!! He talked to a cat?

You snorted, turning and walking off. "Hey!" "S- Stupid Weird Smelling Cat!"

After a few minutes, you found where you wanted to go.. But you hoped this wouldn't be a game of Dog and Cat... You found a clearing which hopefully was- HOLY SHIT HE'S A TITAN!!

You stared at the huge Blizzard God- Wait, can you still call Andrius a Blizzard god?

You tilt your head and look at him as he speaks, "What's a tiny cat doing here, where you could be hurt?" He had a teasing tone to it... You were confused, but shapeshifted into a wolf to properly speak to him.

"Sup?" You basically greet him, like he wasn't the literal Wolf of the North, the man who embodied wolves. He seemed amused with your antics.

"Soo... Why aren't you shocked?" You asked him, both confused and happy to speak to someone.

Andrius hums, "As a creature of Teyvat, I am connected to the land... I can realize when the Creator stands before me." You tried processing that but gave up. "So... Can you just help me with something real quick...? I can't turn into my human form right now and I need a bit of help..." You ask, somewhat nervously.

Thirty minutes later, you had brought the giant wolf to where Bennett and Razor are. Both looked horrified at the fact that you a tiny cat, summoned one of the Four Winds... You loved it.

Andrius helped you with getting the vines off of the two explorers. Though while they were shocked, you took the chance to leave after thanking Andrius.

You had no regrets... But now you wanted to meet the other Four Winds...

[tbhimnoteasyonmyself]

15 Day BL Challenge - DAY 16

We're doing overtime, guys dksjkdjksdjskd

What Show Has Taken You by Surprise This Year?

Have I been disappointed this year? Yeah, sure. But, tbh, this has been a good year, I think. Many series have been pretty good and it seems like we're heading towards a future with more quality, which is always nice, right?

This being said, here are my best surprises this year:

Jack&Joker & Wandee Goodday

Can you believe me? I saw the trailer for Jack&Joker and I was like: "ah... okay, whatever..." WHAT A JOKE, WHAT A MOTHERFUCKING JOKE! sdjskdjskdjkj This turned out to be one of my all-time favourite series, I was hooked on it from the 1st episode. Not a boring time in this universe, not an episode I didn't absolutely love, what a great fucking series! From the satire to the romance to the found family, everything was on point. Truly buzzing for February!

I watched Wandee Goodday bc I thought it could be "cool". BUT WAS IT FUCKING COOL??? NAH, IT WAS COOL AF!!! We need more working gays as opposed to high school or uni gays. Give me adults with established lives. It's so nice to watch a bunch of freaks who know who they are, actually. And still have so much to learn and discover tho! It's also way better to watch ppl in their 30s be single and still figuring it out, like, it's a good reminder your life doesn't end at 29, like they be saying. I had so much fun with this series, I want 20 of these.

HONOURABLE MENTIONS: Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding & Caged Again

Not even gonna lie, I did start watching MMPF bc of Sakai Taisei bc, get this, I knew him from Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger. Yes. This is another tokusatsu to BL pipeline. Can't lie, I mean, I was curious. And boy, was I not disappointed. This series is so cute and heartwarming and actually well-written. My only complaint is that it should've been 2x hornier but that's okay.

PS: Ya boy over here is the creator of Mr. Mitsuya's tag on AO3, so if you wanna check out the only work in it (mine) here's your hyperlink xdkjdkjdksjdk.

Caged Again was probably the biggest surprise bc... Wdym he was a penguin and the other guy was a panther and they both escaped the zoo and are now students at a boarding school and 2 ppl from the zoo are after the human penguin to traffic him with his brother and then they got lost in a forest and older gays tried to help them and now they're being rescued by a spirit all while falling in love and trying to get a hold of the panther's predator instincts??? This is PitBabe 2. This is exactly the same level of brainfuck. And just like I was here for the furry men with a traffic plotline, I'm here for the furry teenagers with a traffic plotline. Nothing changed. dsksjdksjd Curious to see where it's gonna go!

[juniperpyre]

what are your thoughts or opinions about the afterlife in hp? and what do you think about the trope where jily are able to watch down on all the things that are happening to harry and co. in real time?

thank you for the question i think about this a lot!!! i cried writing the end of this lmao.

soooo i do not like the looking down on everyone trope. i've never liked the idea of people just being up in heaven, watching. it sounds like a horribly boring thing to do for eternity, and i think it's a cop out. death is permanent.

i DO have thoughts about the afterlife in hp. they kind of mix with my thoughts about the afterlife in general. i don't believe that when we die a "self" remains in a way that would be recognizable to humans. i like what chidi on the good places says

That’s one conception of death for a Buddhist. The wave returns to the ocean — where it came from, and where it’s supposed to be

and people are the wave. i apply this to hp too, i do not think anyone is sitting around waiting to be called on by the resurrection stone or by a dead-not-dead loved one taking a stop in the afterlife train station.

yet, we see memories of people with knowledge beyond the "creator" of the memory, and to some extent, wills of their own. to me, when the imprints of people appear in the living world, it is a very complex bit of magic that pulls from the past and memory and emotion. we all leave imprints in the places we go and in the people we meet. not even voldemort can run from this.

so, then, the train station.

there is, in Judaism, a concept of being guided by your loved ones to the next phase of the afterlife. in Judaism and Islam there is a concept of soul purification in Gehenna/Jahannam, which is like Hell, wherein the soul experiences the outcomes of all they caused in their life. once they have been purified, they travel onward. this experience for a person who dies and comes back, is obviously thought to be mental, the brain's way of coping with dying.

we see loved ones guide harry on his way to death, and dumbledore says that his conversation with harry is all in his head.

when someone dies in hp, i believe their soul/mind travels to a place of comfort and a place of transition, and they are led on the path to the afterlife by a loved one. once they are there they undergo the purification through a long talk with their loved one. the loved ones aren't waiting around to do this, it's kind of life the wave rises for a moment, but it is not the exact same person.

harry goes to King's Cross bc trains=travel and because this represented his freedom, his journey to his true home.

when james dies, i think his dad is there to guide him on. james had plenty of places of comfort, but perhaps he finds himself walking through a field near the house he grew up in with his father. it's a path he'd taken many times, to walk into town with his friends, to call lily on a payphone, where he rode his broom, where he played as a child. so all parts of his life are there. he works through all of his guilt, the pain of betrayal, mourns, and is at peace.

when lily dies, i think james is there to guide her. he's able to explain everything, even though irl only moments have passed. i'm not sure where they would be, tbh. i think transitions were hard for lily bc she never felt at home in either world. maybe she's on a front porch at the end of a party. about to go home, happy and warm from time spent with friends. it doesn't matter the house. james and lily have a long talk on the front porch, and when they're done, the lights go off, and the party is over, and she is happy and at peace.

when sirius dies, james is there to guide him. they're in the forbidden forest, as in english folklore forests are places in-between, and because this is one of the places sirius was happiest. a time when helping his friends was a complete act of joy, not complicated and hard and sad. james tells sirius that it's okay, that he's suffered enough, and sirius gets to let go of all the pain he'd endured since he was a kid. he is at peace

when remus dies sirius guides him. remus is also in the forbidden forest, since this is one of the few places he was able to feel free (both as wolf and as man) even if there was guilt after. they tell each other they love each other. again, the pain is worked thru until remus is at peace

i want to do peter but it's hard to say. maybe his mother guides him, maybe he's at a place from childhood before everything got so complicated. maybe he's in the forbidden forest, too. if someone we know guided him, i think it would be james or lily. it isn't about what james or lily want, they are at peace, they don't care, and is it even really them? peter will be feeling his pain for a while, but in the end it will be okay. he will get peace, too.

[everybody-loves-purdy]

I don’t get why people think people hate Bramblestar just because of the Moonkitti video. I hated him for years before that- it didn’t even affect my view on him ‘cause I hated how boring of a POV he was and how he was so easily manipulated and how he treated the three after their parentage was revealed.

There are many reasons to dislike him that have nothing to do with Squilf. Heck, for a while I hated both of them equally (former Ashfur stan).

Honestly I think it could be down to having a scapegoat, and it’s probably not an intentional thought process for most. If they can conveniently blame people not liking their fav on one specific thing and paint everyone under the same brush, then they don’t have to think or fight about as to why people may have other reasons not to like him other than “it’s because Moonkitti said so” and then completely dismissing her video as just bias (which in itself is very disingenuous).

Granted moonkittis video did most definitely bring the topic of him being an abuser to a wider audience, but a few videos about it came out before then and online discussion about the matter had been pretty rife, she most definitely wasn’t the first, I made a post a post about that topic myself within days of reading SqH when it was released lol. Furthermore a question they should ask themselves is, if Moonkittis video is really that terribly produced and full of bias, then why did so many people connect with it the way they did? Although I guess the answer for that is along the lines of they love Squilf and/or Moonkitti. And there’s been no major pushback against the video as far as I am aware that hasn’t contained biases, like the one TikTok that was going around that was very popular in pro brambleclaw circles that contained claims that Squirrelflight is what drove Brambleclaw to train in the dark forest and that she intentionally used him to make Ashfur jealous (something that is specifically proven false by Twilight). I think it’s very hypocritical personally to claim the Moonkitti video had biases but then turn around and share that and claim it has none.

Also think it’s kind of funny how this 4 year old video is still being blamed for the dislike for Brambleclaw. Apparently no one who watched and agreed with it has thought critically about a character who is still very prominent in the series for 4 years.

This isn’t against anyone who likes Brambleclaw by the way, I do definitely see why he appeals. I personally do really like him up until the second half of TNP! But I really hate how Moonkitti is used and treated as a boogeyman by certain Brambleclaw fans. This poor woman has been harassed to hell and back and is constantly slated by a certain section of fans. Like yeah treating a woman who has done nothing to you except not like your fav like the Antichrist and characterise anyone who has similar views to her as some kind of mindless Squirrelstar or Moonkitti worshipping drone isn’t really going to get anyone on your side.

Don’t get me wrong if a popular creator accused a favourite character of mine that I personally thought was morally good of being an abuser I would be upset too. I totally understand that. I’m not blaming people for being upset but I am blaming them for the ways certain people are channeling this upset.

[that-shy-fanfic-writer]

What started as an interview (aka writing practice) to get to know my OC better turned into more of an introduction into who they are and where they come from, so I decided to fix it up and share it here. Enjoy?

Interview with my OC

Lavender: Okay, Mercy. They're all yours.

Mercy: Ooh, this is so exciting! My first real taste of social media! Hi, random strangers on The Internet! My name's Mercy Fey! I can't wait to share my story with you all!

Lavender: Don't get too excited. This is just to test the waters. Why don't you tell us a little about yourself?

Mercy: Sure! So first off, while I share traits with Y/N characters—or Reader Inserts, what have you—I'm not a Reader Character. I am my Own Character and would appreciate being treated as such.

Lavender: Wow, you just jumped right into that. Can you explain what you mean? That you share traits with Reader Inserts?

Mercy: I'm what you'd call non-human, or maybe human adjacent? I don't have a solid appearance so my features are always changing, hard to pin down. That's what I mean when I say I share characteristics of a Y/N. But I'm an OC. Please don't mix me in with them. Besides, I have a name and belong to a Creator, as much as I don't want to admit it.

Lavender: Why not?

Mercy: Why would any character want to have the self-awareness of the Fourth Wall? It means we're being controlled by forces outside of ourselves. It means we're not Real. I can't speak for all characters, but I'm sure the Truth can be mind breaking to some. However, while I don't like to admit I have a Creator, I can accept that I have an Author. Which is more fun, because that means I have just as much control over my person as she does.

Lavender: … Right. Would you mind sharing some things about the world you inhabit?

Mercy: Nope! I live in a pocket dimension on the outskirts of the omniverse, just this side of the Fourth Wall, at the edges of Reality. It's how I can connect to everything from the Real World while also Knowing there are a multitude of other worlds beyond mine that are Fictional. And I can access all of it right here at Home.

Lavender: Speaking of, what does Home look like?

Mercy: Well, it's empty, for one. Kinda like the anti-void, just pure white all around with a House built for me at its center. Or maybe it was created? I have no idea how it got here, but I'm pretty sure it's been here since the beginning of my own existence, and it can change its shape to whatever I want. The Background too, outside, depending on my mood. Sometimes, I'd want a forest setting, sometimes a city scene. Not that there's anyone else who lives in it. Just the sounds of a city. Like ambience or whatever.

Lavender: It must get lonely.

Mercy: Not really. I can keep my own company well enough. And if I'm bored, I have lots to do! There's a library that holds all the books of Reality and then some! Fanfiction too! And I've got a TV that plays movies and shows, some YouTube videos, blah blah blah. I've never had access to The Internet before now, though. At least, not like this! Especially social media sites. Oh! But I can break the fourth wall sometimes! When I want to—or rather, whenever the Author remembers. She forgets too, a lot. Hah! Anyway, breaking the fourth wall is usually the only way I can learn all the Meta things, like fandom theories, how people in Reality behave, The News. Awful times y'all live in, by the way. How do you cope?

Lavender: Let's move on. Is there anyone in particular that has, or had, an influence on you?

Mercy: Oh, yeah, for sure. The Author, mostly. Have I mentioned I'm completely non-gendered? There's absolutely nothing down there! Or up here! I checked! But because of the Author's influence, my pronouns are sometimes she/her because she identifies as female herself and tends to project. And sometimes there are characters I find cool and inspiring—like AVA by Inyahs and that one Frequently Isekai-ed Protagonist who, by the way, is a Reader Insert—so I'd say they have an influence on me too. It's one of the reasons why the Author can't pin me down. My appearance is vague at best and I can flip emotions, personalities, thoughts at the drop of a hat.

Lavender: Okay, we gotta wrap it up soon, so only a few more questions. What would you do if your favorite characters suddenly showed up in your world?

Mercy: Well, I'd want to play, obviously! My first time getting to meet people from The Outside? And they're characters I know? Heck yeah! I'll give 'em a whole tour, show them everything! And we can hang out and play!

Lavender: That's… very in character for you, I just realized. Huh. Speaking of showing them everything, what can you tell us about your powers?

Mercy: I have all the powers! This world is my playground, mine to control, so I can teleport to wherever I want to be the moment I think it, or float in the air, fly even! I can change what I'm wearing with a snap of my fingers! Oh! I can also change whatever I want in the House, down to the room count or the size of the rooms or the furniture, and even how it appears from the outside. Though sometimes I have to ask House for requests. It can't know what I want until I ask, but sometimes it can. It's as fickle as I am, I guess.

Lavender: Are you saying the House is sentient?

Mercy: Maybe? At least semi-sentient? Or maybe the word is sapient? I dunno. Sometimes it'll do things without my input—I just have to think and it does it—and sometimes it won't, even if I ask. It can also hold a grudge, apparently. I learned that the hard way…

Lavender: Okay, last question. What would you do if you found yourself in another universe? A fictional one?

Mercy: I guess that depends? Which world am I in? What are the Rules there? If I'm not even familiar with the world or its characters, I'd observe what it's like. Do they have powers or magic? Am I in an AU of a world? Space or Sci-Fi? What's the genre? Once I figure it out, I keep observing. If it's a world I'm familiar with, I'll mess with the cast a li'l, play around, since I know what's going to happen—or has happened—for the most part. And if it's a world I don't know? Well, it won't be too hard to figure out the ropes. I'm a pretty fast learner. Especially with Knowledge from the Author. What she knows, I know. … Sometimes. Sometimes, she doesn't want me to know so I'm blocked from Knowing the Plot. That's just how it be, I guess.

Lavender: This interview had been pretty insightful, I think. Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Mercy.

Mercy: No prob. Now get back to writing my stories! I wanna play! Cringe is dead and fun is in! Go! Shoo! And to those who stayed to read the whole thing, thank you! Love you! Hope you enjoyed!

Lavender: Hey! That's my line! Scratch the love you part-

Mercy: Not anymore! I already said it. Now what are we still doing here, let's go!

[illarian-rambling]

Because I'm on my Starbreaker shit, here's a little behind the scenes for where the crew was before getting picked for the voyage! (Aka what afterlife did they land in?)

Faalgun, unsurprisingly, if you're familiar with the Illarian pantheon, landed himself in hell. The surprise probably actually comes in knowing he landed in an Illarian afterlife at all. However, if any religion can spread, it's that one. The Flying City has its own version of Illarianism picked up a few centuries after they left the planet. They exclusively worship the psychopomp deities (Beshha, Loqang, Doshu, and Ibara), as their existing religion had a lot to do with transition states of the soul. Faalgun wasn't super religious, but as a failed explorer who never lived up to his potential and a lost soul, he found himself in Ibara's hell. He stood with his feet trapped in stone, watching the world wheel around him, knowing he could never be a part of it.

Nyda's people do ancestor worship, but only the heroic ancestors, which she is not. Instead of being sent to fight in the eternal battle on the edge of the universe, her name faded into obscurity and she was relegated to an alter spirit. She protected a temple in some nowhere glen of the Sarytas Forest and hated every minute of it, since no one ever worshipped there. Her mind faded after 400 years of this, so she doesn't remember much, but she knows that she'd rather fade into oblivion than go back.

Kaulakri was technically in the hell of Ezjara Moon-stalker, since she failed to spread the knowledge she'd learned, which is Ezjara's whole thing. But also, there are like ten people tops in Ezjara's afterlife and she's not really the hell type anyways, even if she's mandated to have one. Kaulakri just got last pick of the assignments, as the duty of souls pledged to Ezjara is to act as her invisible eyes and ears on Illaros, gathering information for their mistress secretly. Kaulakri didn't mind much, since all of the assignments were interesting to her, and she signed up to serve on the Starbreaker far more out of curiosity than any desire to escape her 'punishment.'

Pash's soul, after he died, went back to the Gloaming Queen who created it. Like all dead fae, he was repurposed back into the beauty of the Next-Door Land. All he remembers is that he was a sunset fog of some sort, which he didn't mind, but when the Gloaming Queen pulled him back out of the land's tapestry, he was happy to do as she asked. Like all fae, he has no sense of any ability to refuse his creator's orders. Either way, being a fog was nice, but a little too boring for his tastes.

Anarac's soul became a part of End after he died, or a part of the dark beyond if you know it by a different name. I won't get into all that, but it was a bad time, suffice to say ;)

Anyways, this has been an official Illarian ramble 👍

[no1lucanispegger]

"Why Me?" - Veil Jumper Rook/Kieran

So once upon a time, I got bored and made a really hot version of Kieran in the Veilguard character creator and my friend @orangeandclover snatched him up with a quickness for their wonderful Rook Tanaleth, who I love dearly.

This fic is for their birthday. Happy birthday @orangeandclover! You can also read this on AO3

What happens when you take a deeply autistic old god baby turned grown man and pair him up with a gorgeous, magically-challenged enby with devastatingly low self-esteem?

Whatever the fuck this fic turned out to be, apparently. This is their story:

"Why me?" they repeated, as if the question were obvious. They shifted, pressing a palm against Kieran's chest and pushing out of his embrace. His heart thrummed under their palm, then, as a wisp floating overhead caused Tanaleth's vitiligo to shine the same color as starlight, sped up. "You could have had anyone," they continued. "I know a half-dozen other Veil Jumpers that would leap at the chance to be with you. But you chose me. Why?" Enough time passed that Tanaleth began to chew on their lip, nervousness flickering across their features. They pulled their hand from his chest, but he quickly caught their wrist, pressed their hand against his heart, and held it there. And then, with utmost sincerity, he said, "My grandmother was a dragon." It was then Tanaleth's turn to blink. "Kieran, what the fuck?" - Rook asks Kieran a simple question, but doesn't get a simple answer.

The question came on a warm, humid night in Arlathan Forest. Rainwater slipped between heavy leaves to patter a gentle staccato that Kieran lost himself in as he laid entangled with Tanaleth under a mountain of blankets; in his half-conscious state, he drummed a counterbeat to the rain against the goosebumps on Tanaleth's thigh. Wisps of Curiosity and Possibility drifted in and out of the open window. The scent of petrichor seeped into the space, mingling with the blackberry soap still clinging to Tanaleth's skin. In the darkness of the night, Kieran couldn't tell where he ended and Tanaleth begin.

But if he were being honest with himself, he preferred it that way.

An exhale against his chest drew his attention. He turned his attention to Tanaleth, who raised their head from his chest, blinked away the sleep from their eyes, and, with a yawn, asked, "Why me?"

Kieran's fingers stilled against their skin. He blinked, brows furrowed. "What?"

"Why me?" they repeated, as if the question were obvious. They shifted, pressing a palm against Kieran's chest and pushing out of his embrace. His heart thrummed under their palm, then, as a wisp floating overhead caused Tanaleth's vitiligo to shine the same color as starlight, sped up.

"You could have had anyone," they continued. "I know a half-dozen other Veil Jumpers that would leap at the chance to be with you. But you chose me. Why?"

Kieran sighed. Paused for a beat. Searched for words in all the languages he knew, both living and dead, for a way to describe what they were to him. But to explain what he saw in them would be like explaining the color green to someone who'd never seen it—someone, in this instance, whose colorblind eyes had passed over the shades a million times in the mirror and never once saw them for what they were.

Enough time passed that Tanaleth began to chew on their lip, nervousness flickering across their features. They pulled their hand from his chest, but he quickly caught their wrist, pressed their hand against his heart, and held it there.

And then, with utmost sincerity, he said, "My grandmother was a dragon."

It was then Tanaleth's turn to blink. "Kieran, what the fuck?"

Before he could answer, they shoved him away and rolled over, curling in on themselves and tugging the blankets up to their chin. "Nevermind," they mumbled in a voice so small it stung to hear. "It was a stupid question."

"Tanaleth, I wasn't trying to mock you."

"No, don't worry about it." Their voice thickened. He reached for their shoulder to tug them back, to make them understand, only to be shrugged off. "Let's just forget I said anything, okay?"

He watched them retreat into the isolation of their own mind, like they had so many times before after one perceived failure or another. Failure as a Veil Jumper, as a daughter, a First, and now, to Kieran's horror, a lover.

No. That wouldn't do at all.

Slipping out of the bed, Kieran marched around it to their side, his bare feet thumping against the hardwood, and dropped to his knees at their bedside. He took them by the chin, holding firm as they tried to pull away before leaning in until the tips of their noses brushed.

"You didn't let me finish."

"Kieran…"

He silenced them with a kiss to their cheek, then the corner of their mouth, then their lips.

"Please," he whispered against their mouth. "I wasn't finished."

For a moment, the world held still as Tanaleth considered his request. His heart skipped a beat, anxiety creeping up his spine and prickling at his skin. For the briefest of moments, Kieran thought they'd say no. Push him away. Send him like a chastised puppy into another room, banished until he mastered the art of being a normal person who spoke in normal words.

But instead, Tanaleth nodded and scooted toward the center of the bed, allowing Kieran to sink into their old spot and wrap around them like ivy against lattice, arms locking around their waist and holding them flush against his chest, nose tip to nose tip, eye to eye. The few others Kieran had been with over the years would have shoved him off by now, called him a freak, told him to be less clingy, less intense, less… him.

Never Tanaleth, though. For as long as he'd known them, they'd never once made him feel anything short of cherished. It made him want to burrow under their skin to make a home between their ribs and spend the rest of his life digging through their soul to find their insecurities and pluck them away, one by one.

(Shit. Kieran groaned inwardly. I should have said that.)

"Well?" Tanaleth mumbled in a voice so small it made Kieran's chest ache. "Can't think of anything?"

"No," he said quickly and squeezed their hip, eyes flashing. "Can't stop thinking. That's the problem. All my thoughts are running concurrently. I don't know where to start."

"At the beginning?"

"Hmm… Not enough time." History stretched too far, and the memory of Urthemiel's echo in his soul had faded enough to make the recollection strenuous.

"Your grandmother was a dragon?"

"For a time. She's just memory now."

"Oh. I'm sorry, vhenan."

"There's no need. That's all she ever was to me, really," Kieran shrugged. "I only met her the once, in the Fade."

"In a dream?"

"No. Physically,"

If Tanaleth was surprised, it didn't show in their face. To be fair, it was far from the strangest thing he'd ever told them. Smiling, Kieran continued: "I used to be… More. Than I am now, I mean."

An echo of the song rang in his chest, achingly fleeting. With it came, for the briefest of moments, a rush of his old power. Of the knowledge, older than the bones of this world and that which came before. There was a time when he'd been so filled with it he thought he might burst, when he couldn't be sure if the words leaving his lips were his or something—(someone?) else's.

But then that woman who felt somehow like sister, mother, and grandmother all sharing the same skin, absconded with the rest of him. The fragmented memories left behind leaked from his mind like water through a sieve.

Then, a realization. Fragments. Of course.

"Summon your magic," Kieran said suddenly, releasing Tanaleth from his grip and sitting up with his back against the headboard. Tanaleth reluctantly followed, eying him warily.

"Right now? Why?" Their grasp of magic had been improving since Kieran met them, but a lifetime of insecurity was difficult to let go of and they were still lacking the confidence needed to successfully cast most spells.

But that didn't matter. Not with Kieran there to help. "It's easier for me to show you than it is to tell you."

Raising a hand, Kieran drew upon his own magic and, with a thrumming motion, drew a chord of Possibility from across the Veil. Suddenly, a wisp formed above his open palm.

"Kieran…" Tanaleth stared at the wisp, eyes wide. "What are you doing?"

Taking a breath, Kieran reached into the hollow cavity in the wellspring of his soul—once inhabited by Urthemiel, now only by her echo—and called upon the memory of her song.

Above his palm, Possibility rippled.

"Kieran…" Tanaleth tensed. Their body coiled, like a cat waiting to bolt, but relaxed slightly when Kieran turned to look at them.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, offering his free hand. Possibility's form twisted in on itself, then expanded, like a star trying to decide between birth and death.

Tanaleth tore their gaze away from it and nodded. "Of course."

"Then call your magic. I'm with you."

Kieran took Tanaleth's wrist and guided their hand to Possibility. He watched intently as they closed their eyes, sucked in a breath, and—

With a loud pop of magic, Possibility burst. Its form exploded into a hundred tiny motes of glittering potential that clustered through the space, filling it like a field of stars. Then, one by one, they began to sing. One note blended into another, then a dozen, then a hundred until they achieved perfect harmony.

And for the first time since his sundering, Kieran heard the Song again.

Tanaleth stared, slack-jawed, eyes wide as saucers. They turned their gaze to their hands, holding them out in front of themselves like they were afraid they might sprout wings and fly away. "Did I… I did that?"

Kieran took their hand and squeezed it gently before raising it and brushing his lips against their knuckles. "We did that." He wrapped an arm around their waist and tucked them into his side. Leaning back against the pillows, he regarded the motes like they were their own personal light show. "I used to hear this all the time. It sang in my magic, whispered in my dreams, and I learned so much about… everything. This world. The world that was."

"But your grandmother took it away?"

Kieran beamed brighter than he had in years. He knew they'd get it. "And tonight you gave it back."

As quickly as the song began, it faded. The motes dimmed, and with a gesture Kieran sent them back across the Veil.

"Well, for a moment, at least," Kieran shrugged. It was more than he ever thought he'd get, and in the moment felt enough to sate him for the rest of his lifetime.

"The wisp wasn't harmed, was it?" Tanaleth asked, and Kieran loved them for it. He shook his head.

"No, but it did change. It isn't just one Possibility anymore. Parts of it will be swept away in the currents of energy that flow through the Fade, but the rest will grow into… Something."

"Something good, I hope?"

Kieran squeezed Tanaleth closer, brushing his lips against their temple. "It came from us," he murmured, grinning against their skin. "Of course it'll be good."

Tanaleth huffed and rolled their eyes, but leaned into his embrace all the same. "You still haven't told me why you chose me."

"Haven't I?" Kieran cocked his head. "You need to hear it in words?"

"I'd like to, if you can find them."

Thankfully, he didn't have to look far. In the fading echo Urthemiel's song, the answer rang clear.

"Because you're fucking perfect."