while in captivity, floyd encounters a human and unintentionally pair-bonds with you during a moment of biological vulnerability.
(cw: gender neutral reader, nsfw, omegaverse/abo, heats, captivity)
The marine lab has recently acquired a unique specimen—unique in that he is half-human and half-fish, hailing from deep, dark, indescribable depths. An eel merman, to be exact. You’ve only ever glimpsed merfolk in outdated textbooks and fairytales, the latter of which depicted them as whimsical beings capable of feats beyond scientific understanding. Magic. Although in the realm of biology, such folly is never entertained and so what the world calls ‘magic’ other fields built upon the foundations of research refer to it as a ‘miracle’. In your eyes those words are interchangeable, but then the idea of a miracle is far easier to digest than the concept of magic.
Merfolk have always been elusive, covert creatures, hence why there is hardly any conclusive data on them. In fact, they’re so secretive that they were believed to be mostly extinct—a figment of dreams and hallucinations. Most of what humans know stems from the tattered notes of long-gone sailors, their presences nearly lost to time itself, and for a while all anyone ever knew were four key details:
They are spread throughout the sea, living out their lives in frigid fathoms.
They are hypnotic and deceptive.
They are predatory.
They rarely interact with humankind unless absolutely necessary (e.g. to hunt or observe).
But with plenty of promising technological advances, some of the theories and myths surrounding merfolk have been bolstered or disproved, respectively. Merfolk are just as diverse as the rest of the animal kingdom. Some live in solitude. Others thrive in groups. Some make their home out of caves and grottos. Some dwell within the labyrinths of volcanic rock formations. It is every marine biologist’s dream to come face to face with one of these mysterious creatures, if only for just a few minutes to glean more information.
That dream is made reality today.
The eel mer was discovered off the coast of a tiny island, entangled in fishing lines and plastic litter. His large, winding body, snake-like in its sleek build, was littered with scars and scrapes. There was a hook lodged up in the folds of his gills. Despite his thrashing, his tail swishing wildly in the sand and nearly knocking down three researchers like they were bowling pins, he was wheezing and gasping, drained of energy and air. When the first bucket of seawater came down upon his dry gills, he settled briefly, wide, crazed, mismatched eyes flicking from face to face. Likely assessing the situation or counting the amount of bodies, the report claimed.
He fell still after that, and it took two teams of ten people to load him onto the lift so he could be flown to the lab.
After he spent a week in recovery, where he healed surprisingly fast, he was transferred to a much larger and wider tank, its depths far deeper than the average swimming pool. He doesn’t swim to the surface much, and he only ever pokes his head out at night, scanning his surroundings with intelligent, keen eyes. And then he turns and disappears below. It’s a pattern he’s stuck to for weeks now. No one really understands it, and they haven’t had the opportunity to try. He’s uncooperative and unpredictable. It’s much too dangerous to send a diver down there.
So they transfer you to his enclosure, assuming you might have more luck. You’re not sure and you can’t make any promises of potential success, as you’ve only ever interacted with marine mammals. A merman is…different. Not only because he’s half-man and, by that same logic, likely possesses a human brain that is capable of a higher level of thought, albeit one that is wired to suit his mer biology, but because he’s bigger. A lot bigger.
He could kill you.
You saw the documentation. The serrated teeth, the powerful claws, the dangerous jaw, the bulky, muscular build that cuts through water like a bullet. He is a predator in every sense of the word, and you’re supposed to look after him. Coax him to the surface. Get him to trust humans. Interact with him just inches from the edge of his tank and hope that he doesn’t get hungry or violent.
He might kill you.
But there are safety measures put in place for these things. Ethics to be followed and whatnot. It’s a slippery slope because he’s part human and therefore could possibly have the same level of intelligence humans have, in which case it would be wrong to trap him here. There may be ways to skirt around it with other animals, but he’s not like other animals.
For now, he’s kept here under the pretense of recovery and scientific study. The lab treats him like the big fish he is, going so far as to buy a shark suit in your size and instruct you to wear it even though you’re not going to get in the water. “It should prevent him from biting through,” they had said, “but it won’t lessen the force of his bite.”
“What good will that do? I can’t fight him off.” Though you knew it had nothing to do with anything, you added, “I’m an omega. Merfolk might not have the same sub-genders as we do up on the surface—or maybe they do; I don’t know—but if he were human he’d definitely classify as an alpha. Put that into perspective. I can’t. Fight. Him. Off. It’s biologically impossible.”
“So you poke his eyes. Dig your fingers into his gills. He should let go of you then.”
“That’ll hurt him,” you protested, clutching the suit to your chest.
“Not as much as he’ll hurt you.”
You suppose it’s a clinical priority. Survival of the fittest, but it’s the human who has to live. The lab could afford to lose you, but they don't want to. And if they did, they might put the mer down. Shoot him up with enough tranquilizers to keep him comatose. Maybe it only bothered you because, yet again, he’s half-human and no one on the team knows the extent to which he thinks and functions.
To simplify it, they consider him a shark. But like any creature, sharks learn and adapt as they go. Death is instinct.
He will kill you.
But you don’t want to think like that, which is why you put on your best smile and trudge into the enclosure he’s being kept in. The tank looms before you, seawater clear and beamed through with streaks of light from the harsh, glaring LEDs above. The deeper the water gets, the darker the shadows. You press your palm against the glass, observing the murky darkness with a frown. Somewhere in this tank, at a depth you can’t even imagine, is an eel merman. A big, strong, powerful, scary eel merman.
You swallow a steadying breath, curl your fingers into fists, and climb the spiral staircase to get to the attached platform. Your reflection follows you with each step, countenance set in grim confliction. Once you reach the top, you peer out at the surface of the pool, listening to the droning hum of water filters and other hidden machinery. There’s a very shallow part of the tank, a dip in the design that allows for the mer to lounge if he so pleases. You’re reminded of the dolphins in live shows, who slide up onto their stomachs to face an awestruck audience. You doubt that’s what he’ll use this ledge for. If anything, it could allow a researcher to kneel in the shallows while they interact with him at an intimate propinquity.
You don’t plan on being that researcher.
Instead, you pace a healthy distance away from the edge, holding a bucket of his breakfast in one hand and a notebook in the other.
“Um!” You cringe at your voice as it reverberates around you in a nervous echo. Cautiously, you inch towards the water. “I have your food!”
You wait three seconds, expecting him to come bursting up from the darkness like the shark everyone wants to delude themselves into thinking he is. The water remains still and unbroken. You wonder if your voice can even reach such a depth. If not the sound, the vibrations might. Or maybe he’s resting. It’s still relatively early in the morning. Perhaps his sleep schedule is thrown off. Yours would be if you were taken from your home and dumped in a manufactured version of your habitat.
You lurch forwards with the bucket and watch as a collection of shrimp, crab, and small fish soar through the air in a sloppy arc before landing and sinking into the waiting depths below. Nothing happens. The tension in your body ebbs away, and when it becomes clear that he isn’t coming up to greet you and feast on your offering you relax completely, collapsing against the wall with a great sigh.
If they really want to study him, they should just watch him on the security feed, you think, peering up at the camera in one corner of the room, its red eye fixated on you and the surrounding enclosure. He’s not going to come up during the day. Not when there are humans walking around.
Still, you wait your shift out, scribbling nonsense in your notebook and occasionally glancing up to gauge the state of the water.
The mer doesn’t show, so you resolve to try again.
Try you do, and try you have.
It’s been one week of perfunctory routine, arriving and feeding him at the same time in hopes that he might understand what you’re doing and come up to investigate. Or, at the very least, recognize you’re a recurring figure in his chapter of captivity. You don’t intend on befriending him. You only wish to fulfill your duties as a researcher, however skewed they may have become. Even though you know you ought to be grateful the mer hasn’t caused any problems, you want something to happen. Anything! At this rate, you’d sooner tire yourself out playing with rowdy sea lions than sit around in silence while waiting for an appearance from him.
It’s a quiet Tuesday afternoon when the first beat of unrest hits.
The mer’s enclosure is kept at a comfortable temperature for humans; it’s the water that’s freezing below the surface. So when you step up onto the platform and peer into the chum-infested deep, the empty bucket now set aside, you feel warmer than usual. Odd, considering the room is normally so chilly. Not extremely so, but chilly enough to give way to a pleasant cold.
Tugging at the collar of your shark suit, you cover the distance to stand under a large fan situated just near the dip in the pool. Cool air kisses your heated skin, providing you with much-needed relief, and you peer up at the propellers that spin in endless circles. Around and around and around. Your eyes follow the motions until you dizzy yourself, and you step back on wobbly legs. Your foot misses the metal platform and instead slips into the ledge built in the tank. With a startled yelp you fall backwards, landing in the shallows on your rear.
“Of course,” you mumble, bitter with embarrassment. “Leave it to me to fall right into the predator’s tank.”
You scoot further up onto the ledge, staring at the water below. It’s quite calm here, where the shallows lap languidly at your waist. If you were delusional, you might think this was a jacuzzi pool that you could dip your toes in. It’s not. Of course it isn’t. Not when there’s a beast lurking just below. But while you’re here, you run your hands through the saltwater while your own body temperature rises as if it’s a hungry flame in a stone hearth.
You place your hands on either side of the ledge, intending to push yourself up and onto the platform, when something tightens inside of you. Your heart stumbles in your chest and you lose the strength in your arms at once. With a noisy splash, you flop back into the shallows, your compromised body rigid and shaky with a tingling, all-encompassing warmth. Horrified, you raise two fingers to your pulse to feel it stutter wildly beneath your skin.
Swallowing thickly, you lower your head onto your arms and wait for the feeling to pass. The seconds slip by and in that short amount of time your state seems to worsen. Your temperature is volcanic, your every sense restless, and you’re sweating through the shark suit as if you’ve just run a marathon and more.
“Not now,” you hiss, slapping your hands upon your face. “Please not now. Anything but now…”
You intend to haul yourself up and out for good this time, desperate to get as far from the pool before your brain is completely overrun by your encroaching heat and robust omega instincts, when fingers brush against your leg. Something chitters behind you, a low, slow sort of sound that is shot through with curiosity. You turn as if you’re frozen in ice, your heart in your throat and senses on high alert.
The eel mer is right there, clutching your ankle in a firm grip. Not to hurt you, but to keep you there. And you’re not at all in a hurry to leave. Not when those claws are so close to your calf, capable of shredding through to your very bones. Even with the shark suit, you worry. He stares at you with narrowed eyes, his head angled in a cute, childish way. He appears confused and rightfully so, considering you’re a creature he’s likely never interacted with so closely before. You mirror his befuddlement, your brows furrowed, lips creased in a thin line.
For a long while, the two of you watch each other. If you look past his predatory design, he’s quite pretty with his smoky teal coloration and dark stripes. Your gaze pans over to the water, where a long, powerful tail disappears below. The paranoid side of you says he’s going to drown you, but then he doesn’t seem outwardly malicious in his intentions.
“Um…”
He flinches at the sound of your voice, his head snapping up to your throat and then your lips. Your attempt to pull your captive leg back is thwarted when he lurches, rising out of the water to grab hold of your foot. You gasp and shake your head at him, your senses sharp and dull all at once. Your heat-addled mind just barely parses the threat of danger, looming and ever-present.
“Please,” you beg, your tone sticky and breathless. “Don’t…”
The mer tilts his head the other way. The fins where his ears might be if he were human shiver, as if listening to the desperation in your syllables. He chirrups, lips widening in a sharp-toothed smile, and then he’s dragging you towards him. Panic seizes your nerves and you dig your palms into the smooth basin in an effort to get away. His expression falls when he notices your struggle and he lifts himself onto the ledge with you, draping himself over your legs like an oversized rug.
“Wait… H-Hold on; get off!” You grunt and weakly prod at his chest. He doesn’t budge. “You… You’re heavy!”
His webbed hand closes around your waist, steadying you in the shallows, while his other arm cages you beneath him. Instinctively, you arch into his touch, your breath coming in tiny, frenzied huffs. He clicks at you, and words that you can only assume are meant to be gentle and soothing are produced in a sweet melody. It relaxes you more than you’d like to admit, a lyrical balm to your terror.
You squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself for the worst. For the searing pain and the stinging agony. For the blood that will color the water a dark, foreboding red. For the sight of him merrily tearing into your jugular, his maw spattered with crimson. But none of that ever comes. He cradles your face next, his thumb running along your cheekbone, and slowly you peel your eyes open. His face is inches from yours, looking on with an intensity that’s almost primal.
Warily, you lift your arm out of the water and touch his hand. It’s much bigger in contrast to yours, but he’s handling you with such immaculate tenderness.
“You’re not going to hurt me…” you mutter, amazed. “You’re just curious.”
As if responding, he chitters. You nod even though you have no idea what he said. He doesn’t smell like an alpha or an omega or a beta. You’re not even sure if he’s capable of releasing pheromones, but if he were you’re certain it would have driven you much crazier than you already feel.
You hold his stare and reach up to pat his cheek, and he leans into your careful touch. Your hand soon trails down to trace his lateral lines, which earns you a pleased hum. You watch in awe as the gills on either side of his body flutter.
Led on by your own wonder, you follow the pattern to his waist and press your thumbs into his hip bones beneath smooth, slippery skin. “How fascinating… I wonder if it’s possible to take an X-ray. Would you allow—oh!”
Clumsily, he lifts you into his arms to embrace you, rolling his hips against the chainmail shark suit. Your breath hitches, and you fumble to grasp his broad shoulders.
“Ah, w-wait. I’m not… You can’t…”
He clicks thrice and lowers you into the shallows, his face scrunched in annoyance. You think he might’ve understood you, but then he’s palming between your legs and it occurs to you that he wants the suit off. Carnal delight shivers through you at the prospect of being wanted to such a degree, and though you know it’s the heat muddling your sensibility you can’t help indulging him just a little. You undo the zip at the back and slide it from your body, revealing your shoulders and bare arms for his wandering, mismatched hues. He leans in to nose at your scent glands, chattering happily as he inhales. You can’t understand a word, but he sounds pleased—even more so when he runs his hands along your arms, squeezing and petting in equal measure.
His tongue laves across your neck, and what fragile restraint you have left snaps. You cling to him like he’s your anchor, meeting his searching hips halfway with every awkward thrust that doesn’t quite connect as it should. You chew your lip, tamping down a torrent of filthy moans. Your mind is clouded with lust and instinct, and you dig your fingers into his hair, holding him against your neck while he continues to lick and nip.
It feels right up until the haze parts momentarily, allowing temporary sobriety when you spy the tip of something poking free of its encasing. Dazed and inquisitive, you reach between your bodies to prod at his slit, hoping to coax more of his prehensile cock from out of its folds. But then the door below opens and the mer lifts himself from off of you, his head turning in the direction of the sound at an alarming speed. You blink up at him, lazily following his line of sight. His lip curls up in a silent snarl, the beginnings of razored teeth peeking out, and then he slithers back into the water, his hands lingering on your ankles.
Despite the dizziness you sit up, your arm outstretched. “Wait, don’t go!”
I didn’t get to cum yet. You didn’t even claim me either…
He peers at you, neutral for all of a minute before swimming over to you. He presses his face into your palm, chittering softly. There are footsteps on the stairs, and he grits his teeth, withdrawing completely before turning and diving under in a spray of seawater.
You fall back into the shallows, panting like a starved, feral monster. A researcher comes to your aid, her expression equal parts shocked and disturbed. You don’t catch her questions, each one tacked onto what feels like a ceaseless rant, while she helps you to your feet. Something about danger. About heats. About omega biology. About how the researchers watched the both of you on the cameras, swelling with queries of their own.
“I’m not sure,” you mumble as you’re helped down the stairs, stumbling in a heat-drunken stupor. Thankfully, your fellow researcher is an omega like you and that relaxes the hypersensitive part of you—the part that fears being taken advantage of when you’re vulnerable like this. But the needier, greedier part of you wants the mer—wants his hands and mouth all over you, ripping you free from your suit and indulging in the bare skin beneath. “I think he...wanted to help…”
No one can explain his behavior. But it seems promising.
While you’re led from the room, the eel mer stalks you from the gloomy confines of his tank.
In the days following your heat, you return to the marine lab with your head on your shoulders and are immediately barraged with requests. Amongst all of them, one common demand stands out: You have to get him up to the surface again. Part of you doesn’t want to face the mer again. When you truly mulled over that day, tossed the memory of it around in your mind like it was a tennis ball, you were hit with shame.
It’s not…normal. Researchers do not tangle themselves in sexual situations with their subjects, especially when said subject was an eel mer from the Coral Sea. It’s unheard of. Luckily, the team of researchers you work with swears to secrecy. You were out of it and your judgment wasn’t in the best state. That’s the excuse they’re using. It works enough to push the humiliation from your thoughts.
You wonder if you should feel disgusted by the events. Rather, you didn’t mind it. For all of his rough, scarred, monstrous edges, he was gentle.
You press your fingers to your scent glands, recalling the feel of his tongue.
Today you’ve donned your usual work attire, foregoing the shark suit and any other protective gear the lab expects you to wear. Something tells you you won’t need it anymore. Not after everything that happened the day you went into heat.
Feeling rejuvenated and refreshed after your mini break, you trudge up the staircase with a food bucket, determined to finally fill your notebook with data. You’ve only made it up four steps when color flashes in your peripheral. You turn and find the mer is at your eye level, following you up the spiral staircase adjacent to his tank.
You pause and wave experimentally. He watches your hand move to and fro and then he mirrors your actions. He swims the rest of the distance to the surface, breaching it just as you make it onto the platform.
“Good morning, Mister,” you greet, bending down to empty the contents of the bucket into the water.
Disinterested, he watches bits of shrimp sink deeper. And then he looks back to you, his mouth opening and shutting. “Fu… Fu…” he forces out, his face scrunched in concentration.
“Fu…? Food?”
He nods and then shakes his head, hissing at himself in what you think might be admonishment.
“Fu…ro…”
“Furo?” You set the bucket aside and scoot closer to the edge. “What’s that?”
He tries once more before the syllables fizzle out on his tongue and, with a few frustrated clicks, he swipes a fish from the surface and stuffs it in his mouth. You giggle, and the sound has him tilting his head. Without a shred of apprehension, he meets you at the ledge. You watch him munch on the fish between his lips, content to observe in silence. He polishes it off rather quickly before procuring a handful, which he dumps onto the ground beside you. You shake your head at him, smiling weakly.
“Thanks, but no. It’s all yours.”
The mer shrugs and indulges without you.
“I should thank you for not hurting me back then,” you add. He pays close attention to your lips; you think he might be attempting to read them while listening. “Um… But don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not sure if merfolk are like humans, but we have this system… Or not a system… It’s more like…groupings? Secondary classifications?” You frown. How can you explain the complexities of sub-genders to a mer who doesn’t even speak your language? “Basically, I was in trouble and you helped me out. Kind of. In any case, thank you.”
He stares at you for a while, chewing and swallowing. You think he might swim back under once he’s finished, but instead he places his hands on the ledge and hoists himself up on his arms. He’s in your face next, all eager smiles and chitters.
“Fu… Furo. Furo…ido. Furoido,” he sounds out.
You read his lips in the best way you can before it finally clicks. “Ah! Floyd, right? Is that…your name?”
Floyd points to himself, makes a few upbeat clicks, and then nods. He’s pointing at you next.
“And me? Oh, my name is (Name).” You take your time sounding it out for him, and he repeats it with an awkward tongue. You smile and nod encouragingly. “That’s it. That’s me.”
He flops back into the water with a celebratory trill, a wild smile tugging at his lips. You watch him swim laps from you to the opposite end of the pool and back. Ditching the shark suit was the right call. You’re no longer uncertain. This time, you know for a fact that you’re going to be getting along very well with him.
And you look forward to fostering this flowering friendship.
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HERRSCHER OF DEATH x HSRVerse PART TWO
▶SYPNOSIS. after successfully finding welt yang, as well as dealing with other encounters, you sought out to explore further, hoping to learn and differentiate this universe between being a new reality, or something constructed artificially by the imaginary tree. the xianzhou luofu for example, being one of many stops that you took interest on.
▶CONTENT. crossover, headcannons + combined oneshot, hsr x hi3rd, hi3rd elements, heavy descriptions of fighting, female reader, serious themes, no usage of y/n, flirting, reader's just a tease, heavy topics, dead dove: do not eat.
“You're beautiful.”
𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 is perturbed, taken aback by your straightforward, words for him.
You were discovered floating, at least stomach level at one of the balconies where the Jade Gate resided grandiosely behind you, floating and laid comfortably, suggestively against your elegant, divine key—your lance, the very lance which caused attention to artisans within the Luofu.
It was twice the size of you, it was darker than midnight, flowers that patterned on its surfaces were replaced in glittered lines of gold, a more elegant, eerie version of the normal Abyss Flower than that one Schicksal Valkyrie had.
And with that, you held death—it was beneath you, leisurely, awaiting your commands.
You remained motionless on air, gravitating lazily, up and down idle, nonchalant towards the leading looking figure, and the people stood before you under his command.
A ruler? He did look the part, ravishingly at that.
Not caring too much, you just wanted to explore, traversing this bubble universe, all without too much usage of your limbs really.
Since a specific someone, frilly, pink and uplifting, somehow had managed to tire and drain your mentality through rigorous, unrelenting questions about you, your nature, and the relationship you had with the previous Herrscher of Reason—no, he had previously told you to stop addressing him by that title.
The mission in search for the missing Sovereign of Anti-Entropy had reached its peak, the task was completed, you were done.
What was not, was the overwhelming curiousity you harbored towards such a complex, and sturdily built universe. This world—this... bubble universe. Behaving so accordingly, properly. The stability of everything, it was almost anxiety inducing, frighteningly perfect, you were uneasy from how detailed, sentient and alive everything and everyone was.
Perfection is non-existent wherever sentience prevailed, but this... this is truly next, next level.
You're certain that this world wouldn't fall victim to the Sea of Quanta's abyss, not after being birthed with a vast, new whole new star system, ecological ruptures scattered in highs and lows, numerous amounts of advanced technology existing in all kinds of ways and forms, each world having their own ways of tech akin to their aesthetics and traditionalism.
And if the imaginary tree can create such complex systems, visuals—just how powerful, potent and complex is it to create godlike beings similar to you that could eradicate any existing molecule if they so wished? All the more reason to explore and gather valuable data for those awaiting you in your original world.
That's speaking if you do manage to find your way back, given the knowledge from Welt Yang that he hasn't found a way yet. Safely at least.
Speaking of perfection.
Golden irises met yours, he studied your intricately and interesting designed eyes, they were different, abnormal, but he was accustomed to concepts such as yours, at least, that's what he'd like to believe.
Northern star shaped pupils, a hollow, gradient iris as its bastion, one of many things he noticed about how ethereal you really were.
To give you a compliment with those words would be an insult, it was an understatement.
You were more than mesmerizing, extraordinary, otherworldly, but one thing was most clear to the General; you were also a threat, a large scale one.
He was no diviner like Fu Xuan, but the premonition of unease settled in, engraved so deeply within his gut.
“Your kind words are received, however,” sharp sounds of armory clinked and shifted, winds being cut forward as the horizontal row of spearsmen that positioned themselves behind the general, weaponry raised—all defensively towards you,
What a predicament you've gotten yourself into.
“What are you, and what do you stand to achieve at this hour of day, my lady?” His unidentifiable gaze remained to your direction, occasionally, subtly glancing down towards the weapon you had displayed under you, and back up to meet your hypnotic eyes.
The commotion from the civilians only grew, be it humans, Foxians, or the Vidyhadras.
Some had caused an uproar from your overly grand appearance, some were whispers, quickly plaguing gossips of you being a high Emanator from the deceased Aeon of Beauty Idrila, and the majority—perceived you to be a threat.
All assumptions based on how their mighty, Arbiter General had his Cloud Knights stationed protectively for them, and with apparent offense towards you.
Even if you were, Jing Yuan remained that positive demeanor, he had to, for the lives that resided in Central Starskiff Haven.
“Your... negative, internal inputs of me are so loud and misplaced, handsome,” you had to deeply inhale back a visible reaction, the way he stiffened when you gave him a nickname was nothing but so utterly, endearing.
“But, to avoid rousing concerns and disputes that you are so desperately trying to avoid,” you exaggerate, musing him with a chesire-like smile.
“I'll lower myself down to your standards, all for you,” your mouth slightly parts into a small grin, taking in that miniscule amount of surprise that showed on his face from the upgrade of handsome to that.
Lovely, just lovely. That twitch in between his brows, the slight pursing of his top lip, kissing it to the bottom, the way he'd raise his head to stand tall, masking whatever emotions that stirred cruelly inside him.
Subtle his reactions may be, his embarassment was present to your keen observations.
Your lance beneath your body dissipates into a golden light, leaving behind particles of particles, your form now straightened again, taking footing on the railing of the balcony, your hands raised to the sides of your head.
To diffuse the intensity of the situation of course, even if you did have to make yourself look weak by a small amount, aware that last time's show of strength towards the Astral Faction did a number of them—mentally anyways.
𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 would push unnecessary thoughts to the back of his head. Unorthodox thoughts related to attraction, ranging from the way your fingers effortlessly be positioned in a way similar to dancers that visit the Luofu, enthralling, captivating, the way your eyes—those eyes, the way those stars would glide, seize him, his knights, and the overall dauntiny situation.
𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 wasn't one to fear, but you were just haunting, overflowing with elegance, and you were dangerously coy, something that would, at theory, weaken and enable that primal instinct you see in charmed men.
𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 would slightly lower his guard down, signaling his men to lower their weapons, his own right hand moving towards the side of his head, mirroring half of your surrendered gesture.
But alluring your appearances may be.
𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 will not waver, nor will he allow his self-mastery of calm resolution to be wavered by your antics. To protect the Luofu, he'd add, defensively, even if the very concept of radiance stood confidently, and defiantly before him.
𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 would see you, see past your entity-like behavior, observing how you behave once his golden eyes travel enough, just enough to know you were a work of art underneath the silk you wore.
You were otherworldly, but you were still human.
”My lady...” He took a step to you, eyes never leaving your more visible physiq—your eyes.
He took a few moments to claw at any given thing that would reclaim his previous state of calm again, the silence, accompanied with a light buzzing and bustling commotion, filling his ears, uncertainty dulling his senses for a moment.
Be strong, General. He reaffirms himself, steeling his mind and heart, a noticable shift in his demeanor while you both locked your gazes to one another.
“You... are not a citizen of the Xianzhou Luofu, that much is obvious. Vast, the Astral Express may be, I have not heard word of you having an alliance with the travelers accustomed in traversing within the stars,” Oh, them?
“I have also noticed that you don't bear the crest of the Interastral Peace Corporation,”
Ah, so that's what it means. Previously hearing one, or a hundred continuously yell abbreviations during their chase for you.
For an alliance that wore the word 'peace' proudly in their name, their tactics were sure far from it.
“And the way you appear and hold yourself in such high, confident regards, even in my presence...” Mm?
So there is something special about hi—
“You, are not human, and of this world, are you? At the very least, one of which where the Luofu presides,” the air shifted, Cloud Knights once at ease, now filled with confusion, mixed with an alarm as they hear their General speak out with stern, a tone that can't be differentiated between being a question, or a threat.
Ha.
...
Even that Schicksal maid couldn't discern large, and small scale details that quickly upon just meeting a stranger such a few minutes of close contact.
“...You'd be more than correct.” You attempted to hold yourself and your facial muscles motionless, keeping your hands up to both sides of your head for him. You wouldn't hear the end of it from the trailblazers if you displayed such a disrespectful, unwelcomed, excitement. It was unbefitting of this situation, that much was obvious.
Mmh, but you would digress, for this man was so very, truly fascinating, one that interested you the most. Apart from the blue haired man that craved death in earlier events.
You would assume his abilities, almost purposely rousing him to invoke terrifying reactions you know he's capable of underneath all that reservation and mental fortitude.
His observational skills, overwhelming, giving you a surge that you are being preyed upon on, cat like eyes and reflexes, dilating towards everything subtle you do. That hollow, yet welcoming enough smile that doesn't reach to his pretty eyes, staged for the civilians in confusion, protecting them from feelings of panic and terror.
The highlight in his eyes that would shine brightly as if he just solved every problem there is, the problem being you perhaps, solving you without hints and solutions, guiding him to this battle of composure. A trained body language and demeanor so used to being in regal command.
And a mouth so well versed in literature and strategic prowess, knowing what words to use in all times. you could just...—
“An Emanator, then?”
...
Huh. What did he just call you?
His voice sounded lower than before, almost threatening, the delivery of tone in which you only picked up on since that expression still retained on that pretty face of his.
It may be a pleasant, questionare he'd staged carefully to not alarm his knights and the people present, but to you—you were aware it was only masked hiding the fact that it was an interrogation.
Maybe, a deserved one at that from your sudden appearance within their faction, but since it was a public confrontation, he'd trust your judgements that you wouldn't act so rashly, especially with innocent lives around the luofu were present.
What a bold, bold man.
Already trusting you to the stars with just a few moments of talking, since establishing main key points with you in entirety, of this conversation.
Wait. No, wait a moment.
The young March 7th did ramble to you something about an adventure of theirs not too long ago—containing a word with Emanator, or Lord Ravager within the storyline of hers. Ah.
An emanator. A defeated one. Phantylia, was it?
“Tch,” You didn't like that comparison, assumption it may be, it irked you, especially since encountering a being far greater than her, at least, almost, just barely almost the same level as you being a Herrscher.
You were only nothing but...
“Greater,” you lowered your hands to your sides, standing tall, chin raised with your eyes, fierce and lowered to them—towards him.
“...Greater.” Jing Yuan would repeat, slowly, as if he was relishing the intensity of the meaning behind your answer, the both of you staring each other down, neither side's auras waning down, exceeding amounts of hostility by the second, even if his was misdirected towards you.
He could only assume negatively then, but you were only reciprocating their behavior, after all.
You move both limbs up to your sides once more, a gradiose pose, unphased to the endless sky that accompanied this enormous grand hexafleet that reminded you of the Hyperion of Schicksal.
A step back from the railing would be a mortal man's doom to, perhaps, between, a fate of an endless free fall, suffering from loneliness, with death not being able to cradle and bring you to salvation—or, you would be accompanied with a fear and thoughts of inevitable doom as you fall to something ranging from abominations of the so-called Aeon of Abundance, or.
A simple, boring splat, meeting the ground with a gruesome, inelegant end.
His eyes narrowed with your gesture, finding himself—or the hand behind him subconsciously ready to summon his glaive, a defensive stance so buried deeply into his body that the simple word 'reflex' can't do it justice.
“By 'greater', my lady, you mean you are...—”
Ancient. Everlasting. A covenant.
“Immeasurable, inconceivable, a vessel to humanity's fatal destruction that reached over fifty thousand years ago, a concept humanity has yet to grasp in those countless eras of waste and fruition,”
“An ornament, a paradoxical lament to something greater, far, far greater than destruction itself,”
“I am greater, than those who were labeled the greatest.” It wasn't as if you were trying to appear narcissistic, nor overly confident in your abilities.
But that was only the bigger, and bitter truth.
And it is how Raiden Mei (Herrscher of Origin) would potentially word things given her serious, primordial nature—and your claims of such power, being supported due to the sudden glowing of your eyes.
The sound of cracking, and shattering glass that only you and the General can only hear since he was the closest, sourced from the skin behind your exposed back, a dark mist seeping out of it little by little, along with your Honkai energy levels that were growing simultaneously in an alarming pace.
What's worse—you were unaware of the phenomenon you were displaying right now for it was subconscious, as you revel in the truth of your words with a grin. A misplaced, mistrusting grin you weren't quite aware of you were showing for the General.
Not a Welt Yang within the area right now.
Not a Sovereign, nor a retired Herrscher in your sights to control the situation with knowledge he only held about your kind—your existence.
Not a creature that matched your power and strength, living or not, to stop you in your glory.
The weight of your words manifested into something heavy, full of density, full of dread, it felt awful, sickening, suffocating, his Cloud Knights and those who were near to hear your frightening words of calamity tensed, sweat starting to surface underneath the fabric that hides their terror, their feet glued to the cement as a helplessness guided them to their internal panic, his Cloud Knights in desparate waiting for any sort of order, movement, any syllable from the man before them.
The Jade Gate behind you blocked the brilliant light for the singular, attentive individual that remained tall, a pillar that he had to be for the ones cowering in the heaviness of your words—the Arbitrator Charioteer stands tall, immovable to your claims of calamitous power.
A Lord Ravager, then. The thought internalized inside his mind based on the grevious words, words of grief worthy testaments, laid bare for the citizens to find themselves in a state of fear that doesn't have the need to use any vocal chords.
“A threat,” he voiced, low and firm. His weaponry materializing from the back, the long length of the spear-like weapon, an oriental, traditional looking glaive, finding its solace within his grasp, making him appear complete his weapon apparent.
“You say you are the home to an enemy of humanity, do you acknowledge this, my lady.”
The glaive's tip finds its way towards your direction, the seriousness of the situation finally weighing down as you, your pupils landing on the weaponry pointed at you.
You look to your surroundings beyond the man, arms lowered as your gaze dissects the crowds near you.
Fear, and only fear.
Something you are so accustomed to since bearing the Will of the last Herrscher of Death, and only those who were equally—if not stronger can only ever truly look at you in the eyes, like how this man before you is currently doing.
“You raise a weapon to me.”
“A weapon with intentions to protect those who stand behind me,” his hold tightens around his weapon, his expression mirroring the seriousness of yours, excluding the disbelief you had, mixed with... something else he couldn't discern, at least not yet.
A long, deep inhale. To the point where you exhaust your lungs of air, then exhaling through your teeth, the few last seconds of it being shaky with lips parting slightly, forming into a small, horizontal oval.
They are only fearful. A kind voice reassured in the center of your mind, though it was faint, it was impactful.
That fear being you, you mean. A familiar, malicious one intruded, causing you to bring a hand to your head again, grasping the side as you clicked your tongue.
Even talking about a truth relating to your power, urges the Houkai?
No—illogical, it attacks your mental capacity.
To weaken it. Your emotions, your willpower. You'd long forgotten since then, for it had been quite long ago that anyone, had manage to waver your mental strength.
But you can't help it, you hate being looked at with such genuine fear. You hate it, you really do.
It was unfair, it really was. You only do good.
You've been only good. Only nothing but good.
You breathe unsteadily, giving yourself to the silence to calm yourself for a few, long moments, selective hearing at play.
Something was amiss, the General would observe in his guarded silence, lowering his weapon to his side, vertical, the end of his glaive grounded to the cement. He was to take a step, treading in eggshells, making his way with intentions of closing the gap between you and him.
But a hand, yours, a palm towards him had stopped him dead at his tracks, halting his attempt of a succor—towards you.
You're not one to seek help.
But, stubborn as you are, it would be devastating to put this hyperion like faction to a ruin that you've gotten used to seeing everywhere.
Ah. You, again. Me, again.
And so? You are unwelco—
Being a Herrscher, a catastrophic one, at that.
What is a Herrscher like you blending in with human civilizations, through time and time again?
...Ha. You are weak, I have conquered you, stabilized you—and myself long, long ago.
Yes. Yes, that would be the case right now, wouldn't it, partner of Death.
But recall, where a Herrscher presides—is where my existence remains intact.
For my will... is neverending.
Just like death, infinity and everlasting.
Tch. To choose the unpredictable willingly, that was your forte, to use the unknown in retaliation against the calculative will inside you, to descontruct the threatening finality of your stupor.
It is a new era. This one especially, the world of Pegana, the world that habors no virus that nestle inside you—at least, that's what you believe and have observed in your short time in this 'bubble universe.'
They don't struggle against the Houkai that resided inside you, and that was good, relieving.
Not until traumatic imagery, thoughts of you bringing a fate worse than whatever hell already existed for them, visible, cruel, and horrible.
The fragment of that possibility fine tuning muscles on your face to something sour, having that expression noticed immediately by the General that stood brightly before you.
“You,” you let out a call towards him, similarly to a snarl in your mental discomfort, gaining his attention. You sought out in voice, seeking out warmth, pacing yourself internally, resuming to reassure your will with familiar words that led to alleviate your worries.
“I don't desire to cause harm, and—”
“—And yet, you speak in alarming malice, my lady, such brutal, unfathomable words, coming from that mou-.. from- from the way you speak.”
...What was that pause?
“Listen,” a slight jolt from him, “and listen well,”
You appeared just before him in one step. His fingers twitch, his reflexes, motor skill, practicing heavy, heavy restraint to just have a swing at you.
Time had stood still for him, seeing you closer, you were no taller than him, but you remained intimidating, if anything, the differences made you appear more alluring, accompanied with lucent eyes he only started to focus on once captured by your gaze, an eager eye contact that matched his vigor, that subconscious curiousity and excitement, growing ever so finely, but then.
He remembered those under his command.
“YIELD—yield your weapons,” his free hand simultaneously moves up, open, signaling his Cloud Knights just in time, the muted rustling of equipment now heard, winds that were sliced from their cloud piercers towards you now halted abruptly, and of course, you hadn't wavered one bit. “Wise,” you add, tilting your head up to him.
A vicious, musing smirk, one which of which he couldn't decide to detest it, or to be smitten by it.
At least for right now.
“...If you think and speak of me in such ways, why haven't I brought said ruination into this beautiful, well constructed flagship we currently reside in?”
“Mm,” A great point. He'd look over his shoulder, towards the Cloud Knights coupled defensively, a sum of Xianzhou locals, astral tourists, stilled by fear and unease.
One last deep breath—you straighten your form, the hand from your head moving downwards to your chest, this time inhaling through your teeth. Simultaneously, the glow from your eyes would dull, along with the rejuvenation of your cracked skin, closing up a rift-like wound that was sourced at your spine.
The General sighs, the free hand moving towards his head, now letting frustration that had been tugging at him since this encounter with you.
It was unhealthy to someone imbued with mara.
There were only a few lasting seconds to take a stand, an initative, a singular choice that wouldn't provoke, you—nor worsen what the crowd that flocked together was feeling.
It was truly a taxing, and difficult situation.
Only for him anyways.
𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 will move with purpose, in every action in his next courses of actions. You would think in his 800 years of loyalty and commitment to the Xianzhou Luofu would easily override his curiousity for you—not at all. Eight centuries of repetitiveness, without the need to indulge in the other mysteries of the universe, and that will also be eight centuries of boredom, perhaps something the discover of your existence can begin to alleviate.
𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 is a man, an immortal one, the mara that presides within gnaws at his mind, but death isn't able to welcome him just yet, he is unmoving to that concept, but finding himself hesitant, yet feeling that want to play this game of cunning and intelligence against you.
𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 found eerieness, and a not so welcomed serenity the moment you introduced yourself formally, grand and opening, having you in the center of the divining area within the Divination Commission, wrists, ankles binded separately, ones that held you together, rendering you immobile were something of astral configuration, projection, but some sort of space manipulation, enchantment you can't fanthom, and most importantly—can't get out of.
And 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 would himself revel in that little smidge of discomfort you had, the little creasing between your eyebrows despite the polite and forced smile you had, amused at the way your hands would move, wriggle against the starry chains, and finding himself more impressed once you manage to hold your expression tightly, along with managing to hold back a sound with that pretty, pretty mouth of yours.
Because every time you would try to free yourself, your entire being feels this electrifying, unpleasant burning, it is invasive, mind and emotional means, it runs through your very soul, it tugs at it, warning you, and it behaves similarly like the Houkai within you, and it is sickening.
Sickening to feel something foreign creep up to you again, to try and destroy you from the inside out, what's worse—it had no traces of Houkai Energy, so you weren't able to identify and manipulate it at all, and everytime you would use your own abilities, you would be met with something sharp, a weapon immediately pressed against your nape.
Curiousity had once killed a cat, but what feline is there to be seen, for they have grasped only but a predator.
“You were the one who asked to be binded,”
“To cease any worries, of course,” a half truth. You feign another smile, one that he would mirror with slight amusement. Just where is this confidence he was getting from? You'd think, wincing as soon as your body naturally tries to free itself again, biting your bottom lip to stifle any noise.
“These... binds, they allow you to sense any malicious activity, yes?” The General would let out a musing hum, walking towards you, eyeing you.
“As much as I would love to partake in offering you knowledge,” he looks towards a direction, and you follow his gaze. “Unfortunately, you'll have to relay your questions to the Diviner over there,” A pink colored hair, a hue you wouldn't associate with Ms. March, her demeanor held respectable prowess, something you can admire.
“I see,” you reply, short and neat, sighing.
“Is this necessary, you question.” he narrates for you, taking the words that were already subconsciously forming in the back of your head.
You found it endearing, cocking your head to the side, a genuine smile this time, one that shifted immediately into a smirk. “You'd have to stare at me in long amounts to know what thoughts I currently harbor,” his head returns to your direction, finding those golden eyes gleam along with yours, his lips almost curling upwards.
Almost, but he won't allow it. Not just yet.
“Mm, you would be correct,” So, so dangerous.
“But almost anyone would think that once they know Lady Fu will be invading one of humanities vulnerabilities—the mind, being one of them.”
“Hmp, so much resistance for what...” you mumble softly, complaining about the way he would deflect your advances—he had been since encountering you, especially when you were on the way to the place where you currently are.
“I don't know what you mean,” you were heard. His answer made you look away from him, towards the calm ether, an atmosphere showered with golden leaves, most likely sourcing from the beautifully large scale tree you saw on the way to here, and those golden leaves, caught and nestled within the fabric of your outfit, only enhanced the state you were in—you being flushed, or almost from his comment.
And he'd think and believe, that this current expression suited you far more than the hierarchy fitting description one you masked yourself with.
You sigh, walking a few steps towards him. “As if I would act on malice,” you correct, fatigued, just arriving beside him, knowing he has you in his peripheral. “No, but you are still actively trying to escape, are you not?”
“If there's one thing that would unsettle me, it would be not able to move freely,”
“...Yet, you haven't, not once, have complained during your willing capture, especially when I was proving you immobile.” What are you doing, General. He berates himself internally just after saying that.
“...Your hands did feel better than these things after all,” silence. He answers with silence and three deep breaths, arms closed defensively, your words clearly, clearly affecting him, troubling him.
“Say,” he breaks the silence, and your amused humming. “Are you really fifty-thousand years old? Or did you mean it, harboring something of that age,”
“The latter,” you're quick to answer, now turning heel, moving towards the edge of the platform, eyes squinted nonchalantly. “Are these skies endless as they seem, or is there something that would await you down there?”
“I wouldn't know.” “Why n—”
“Because I haven't indulged myself in a free fall,”
You turn, looking over your shoulder, meeting his golden eyes, unable to choose between annoyance or attraction from his sudden sarcasm.
“General Jing Yuan,” a voice interrupts your reply, your head both turning to the source.
Mm. Jing Yuan, huh.
“Ah, Lady Fu,” he'd acknowledge the pink haired's presence, placing her attention quickly to you, and it only amused you, given how she had this look of disapproval, a twinge of curiousity.
But of course, emotions are more stronger when facing the unknown.
“The Matrix of Prescience is functioning at its finest, any unsealing, rudimentary or advanced would be completely left unscathed, and any type of escape will not be possible for the acting God as per dire request, at least, in 824 possibilities I've calculated f—”
“How accomodating,” you interrupt, shooting the Diviner, and the General an unamused look, a wry smile to hide a slight bitterness that you won't deny within you.
“Only for the best,” He'd add, low, teasing, grasping your attention effortlessly, noticing that slight tensing of your body language, quite liking the effect he had on you currently.
“Only for me, then?” You're quick to retaliate, now striding towards him, smirking and you'd purposely exaggerate your movements, alluring and elegant as you move, catching that miniscule, quick shift in his eyes.
“For the ones unwilling to share their truth,” he looks down as you arrive, indifferent you'd think, but he looked stiff, too professional, unnatural.
“As if your questions wouldn't be answered if you asked in the first place,” you're correct and you know it. “I digress, Lady Herrscher,” the pink is quick to interrupt. “There would be far more possibilities to assess if we were to take that free, unpremeditated route considering your claims of absolute destruction, whether it'd be the escape of your existence, endangering the Luofu, or—”
“That gate, it is acting as a fine line between the stars, and your faction, yes?” you interrupt, liking the slight crease of annoyance between her eyebrows.
“...You would be correct.” Fu Xuan answers, jolting shortly after once your head lowers to her, eyes dark with suspicious amusement.
“Be aware, had your shortly assessed claims prove multiple chances of being true, I would have already done so the moment I stepped foot into what you call the Jade Gate,” you answer with a wry, cold smile, your voice carrying a serious tone this time, along with your expression just like earlier tall, menacing, and haunting.
But still beautiful, the thought nestles comfortably in Jing Yuan's mind, eliciting a heavy exhale through his nose, and you can't identify if it was exhaustion, or frustration, but what you have determined is that he was calm, too calm for someone who is in the presence of a Herrscher.
...Or do the concept of Herrschers not exist in this universe?
“Hm,” the Diviner's eyes narrow, considering, thinking deeply, ignoring the threatening indications in your tone.
“That would... erase 7,254 possibilities of you wreaking havoc, causing no harm and chaos towards the Xianzhou Alliance, as well as having the idealogy, the possibility of you being a Lord Ravager, as well as the part where your loyalties lie for the Aeon of Destructio—”
“Thank you?” “It isn't a co—” the General interrupts by movement, and the action of coughing dryly onto his fist, stepping in between both you, and the Diviner.
“My lady, would you be so kind to indulge and alleviate our worries? It would be of much great help to the Xianzhou's mental fortitude, as well as mine,” he brings out his hand, trained, calloused yet well taken care of, towards the direction of the large, and no doubt advanced technology that was currently up and running, ready for you.
But, if you were to round up the little information you were given based on this sole interaction alone, this astral looking device would, in theory, be able to read, or pry into either your mind.
And that wasn't good for you, neither it is for the Houkai Energy that takes home in your body.
“I have a favor to ask both of you, and the Luofu,” they'd both perk, the word unexpected showing in their expressions to your sudden request.
“Whatever it is that is ongoing, cease everything once you witness something, anything, fluctuate, do everything to render me immobile, unable, or useless,” you'd look to the General for the last part of your sentence, a serious yet silent pleading on those lovely eyes, recognized by him.
He wouldn't need an explanation, he had already witnessed it, the sudden rouses of personality that didn't fit you, the physical and mental discomfort you displayed, grasping your head in earlier events and the radiant glow of your eyes.
“Do you understand, my mighty General?”
But even then, you'd still be able to surprise him, attract him despite being steeled by your vague warning, and that itself was dangerous already.
“I'm starting to destest this... lack of respect, and self preservation in your words and demeano—”
“Let's... start, Lady Fu, let's not keep our guest, waiting,” such strong words, but you'd know that you've only greatly affected him, considering his guarded expression, stoic and stern, but his eyes continue to glue to yours, unidentifiable, but determined, you just don't know if it's something related a positive one or not.
'My' General, you say. He'd pause, attempting to keep composed, giving a subtle, brief squint to you while he played your those lines over and over in his head. "I could wait all the time for you,” you muse with a teasing chuckle, letting him guide you towards the platform of spheres.
Astrological symbols and starry projections, it was pleasing to the eye, but its mechanism were unbefitting of the aesthetics, knowing this enclosure is one that is enable to invade your mind, your memories and your being.
It's funny, you are to stand within something so similar to how you are, it was beautiful, primordial like, and it was also something that people didn't want to associate themselves with. Just like you.
Jing Yuan would hum, mirroring your amused expression, he could only assume what thoughts had presented themselves to you as you gaze towards the Matrix of Prescience.
Fu Xuan's emotions dive into the categories of reminiscence, nostalgia and a twinge of guarded anticipation, you being inside it bringing memories flickering, familiar imagery of cunning, allure and authority flashing your figure.
Kafka. She'd sigh heavily, now attaining suitable form, ready to dive into mysteries that settled surfaced, or deep in your mind.
“Whenever you're ready,”
Whenever they're ready. A crude internal voice slips out, causing you a slight discomfort.
Behave, I believe they have the technology to get rid of you, and they're just unaware of it.
And considering the possibility that without me, you are nothing.
What makes you, yourself—is me.
I don't mind losing you.
You let your face muscles contract into a wicked grin on your face while your head remained low, your breathing intervallic with purpode to concentrate.
I've already found another that has the means and capacity to replace your greatness, if not greater. You look up, now taking witness to the light illuminating the entirety of you, all before placing your gaze at the General that stood with anticipation next to the initiator of this conduct.
You'd give up your divine principles for a nothing but a miniscule speck of human companionship?
Why not? You bore me.
...That is only the result of you not using me to immeasurable extents, destroying a continent, for example.
There are other ways to destroy things. Your chuckle is seen, confusing the Diviner and the Arbiter General, especially one that sounded out with endearment, especially once you bit your lip to the General.
You are all the same. Mm, yes.
I never did claim to abandon my humanity in the first place, no? That's n—
“Oh Miss lovely Diviner,” you call out, shunning the other internal voice out, closing your eyes, bliss and free, despite your restraints.
“You will be dealing with three consciousness,” you open your eyes, biting your bottom lip to stifle laughter from the priceless reactions of disbelief and confusion in both their faces.
“What.” Her eyes leave whatever she was working onto the astral projection, constellations floating adrift within her hands, just like you at the current.
“What do you mean by... three consciousness?”
“Steady, you are unfocused,” you chuckle thereafter, your words only snapping her out of seconds worth of shock, denying to process her emotions of disbelief.
“It is as literal as I can get, three, individual consciousness.” You bite your bottom lip harder, cheeks puffing and just stifling to let a sound of laughter out, your circumstances amusing the General as he crossed his arms, closing his eyes while you mused her with your teasing antics.
“Me, the last successor of the power I hold currently, and the culprit of ruination that I, have mentioned prior my captivity—the lovely General would know what I'm referring to,” you glance briefly at the General, dead in the eyes, admiring him before returning your eyes to the Diviner.
“So tread with utmost care, for once you stray off from mine, you will be dealing with fifty-thousand worth of memories, all filled with inconceivable amounts of terror... and otherworldly struggles.”
The familiar silence again, not including the sounds of stars and shapes moving around you, runes, magic circles appearing and diminishing in tempos. “...Do not take me lightly,” the Diviner refocuses, her attention and concentration towards the particles of light and spacial matter before her sights, and her fingertips.
“Hmhm,” “You need not tease her,” your full attention returns to the General, giving him that coy smile that unsettles and pleases him all in one.
“You'd prefer if I do it to you instead, then?”
“...I said no such thing,” “I don't hear resistance.”
There, that color. It suits him, and he wears the hue so, so well. He'd look away, down to the ground to avoid your smug gaze, arms crossed, as if that defense would stop you from continuing your attacks. “You hold so much beauty, General.”
Says you who continues to be frustratingly magnificent and irresistible. “Focus on the ta—”
“Mm, are you talking to me, or to yourself?” The General takes a deep breath, refusing to meet your gaze, his golden irises tearing away from yours and out towards the other platforms of the Divination Commission.
How long had it been since having himself indulge in interactions such as this? Too long.
You'd expect from the Mighty Arbiter General of the Luofu to not indulge himself in things that will hinder is work, distract him from protecting the Luofu, but you'd be surprise for how long 800 years can really be.
Eons that were accompanied by friends that named themselves longing, loneliness and emptiness, and even faced with emotions he wasn't acquainted with, the emotions being satisfaction, and this warming anticipation...—
He wouldn't, he wouldn't. He would not allow himself, or rather, the Mara wouldn't allow him.
He wouldn't let the one who will enter, capture and steal his heart witness his inevitable fate, one that involved the blossoming of ginkgo leaves, painted with the scarlet red that reeks of a cruel, unhappy death, he would rather just—let no one suffer, he will protect those who need protecting.
But of five people, four had only paid the price.
And right now, the sight of you, all tied, almost vulnerable, mixing in with the memories of pleasant interactions you and him had since the encounter.
To seek out this vixen of a woman, play her games as she did with his, testing him, observing him in the same manner he would to her.
He would gladly be the last.
How could he resist? His charms, wit, intelligence, it was all mirrored by someone so cunningly attractive, not only in physical but the way you hold yourself, his reflected charms being reciprocated if not better?
It all made him feel good.
So good, and maybe, just maybe, he can finally... at least once more in his immortality, can he finally prioritize something else other than the Luofu, other than—“General! General Jing Yuan!”
Yanqing? Familiar voices snap him out of his deep trance, eyes widened, confused, alarmed at the sight that came to be. Two floating blades of ice, both horizontal to block a large scale whip, it was dark, serpent like, exuding black mists—and it retracts again, golden dust particles trailing off from the direction it had attempted to attack him.
The serpent like whip slithered, back, back and forwards again, moving—“ABOVE!” It attacks again, its speed and velocity unmatched for the ice swords the little commander, the density and strength once it clashes with four, five blades, overruling it, shattering each sword with ease.
“Watc—Tch,” The General immediately acts, lunging and taking hold of the blonde boy to move out of the way, him being caught off guard making Jing Yuan barely dodge out of the way.
“At ease, Yanqing,” Rubbles, dusts, the aftermath of the shock scathed his skin in small cuts and dust, ornamental clothes dirtied.
“S-Sorry General... I was—” The platform gives out an unpleasant noise, one that threatened its unsteadiness as it rumbles.
His balance becomes unaffected once he steels himself, strong legs now bastioned against the floor, an arm wrapped around the blonde boy's torso. “Converge, and awaken!” Strategems of constellations manifest into the reality, its canvas a circular gradient of condensed energy, illustrated as magic circle of spatial patterns.
“Lady Fu—” “In short,” her summonings had fade, rejuvenating the two and those around within the vicinity within the Matrix of Prescience of fatigue and light injuries. The Master Diviner drifts down in glittering elegance, using her omniscial abilities to avoid rubble, footing now obtained, assuming a defensive stance to the omnidirectional moving whip, eyes attentive to any and every movement.
“A memory, one of most grief, it provoked something, triggered something. One moment she was well, infuriating, and what followed af—”
Grief? “Is—Is she... safe?”
“Physically, that would be a given, but in psychological means...” She followed his automatic gaze, up towards where you were continued to reside in. You were still restrained, but there were new details no one would miss, the first of few being your struggle that showed on your face, eyes closed, teeth grinding against each other, beads of sweat trickling along your skin.
Your skin would have these cracks, dark mists with golden particles as rifts this time would be plastered vertically on one half of your face, like train tracks, down and down to your neck, to the fabric of where your chest was located. It was beaming, pulsing, bright, despite the dark mist that shrouded you whole.
A source? Plausible. He'd reaffirm his suspicions, setting down the blonde that continuously squirmed in his arms. “G-General what—”
“Retreat, all of you.” Thank you for your consent.
He referred to your warning of earlier events, to stop you in your tracks, to harm you, to end you.
“B-But—!” “If you will, Lady Fu.” She looks over her shoulder, glaring at him, mumbling 'fool' before encasing herself, Yanqing and those who were valiant in the field, all into her spherical realm of stars, disappearing from the premises of danger. “Now then,” the General resummons his glaive, light manifesting in accordance to his hand movements.
“An attempt of harm towards the Master Diviner, my Cloud Knights, Commander Yanqing, and the Arbiter General,” he bends his knees, hands gripping the length of his weapon.
“Causing public disruption, disturbance and damage within the Divination Commission,” wind pressure forms, circular and forceful around him.
And including... particular indecencies. He adds internally, sighing, blushing, the General lifts his gaze to you, to the troubled you, radiant with no peace, veiled in darkness.
“By order of one of the Seven Arbiter Generals, you are to face judgement through the Ten-Lords Commission,” he lunges, strong and with intense speed, up and above with a grunt escaping him.
“A punishable degree, possible of long time imprisonment within Shackling Pris—” he jolts, offensive form faltering the moment he sees your eyes open slowly. “Welt... Welt Yang,” you mutter, rasp and low, struggling to maintain hold in your consciousness. What? He retracts, stopping the subconscious swing he was about to do, maintaining to float as lightning crackled all over him, keeping him leveled to you.
“Th-The Sovereign...—” You're quite accommodating, keeping this man at bay for me.
The moment your eyes widened in realization to your surroundings, the sight before already had taken a drastic turn, he had barely parried the serpent-like whip with his glaive, his strength barely able to hold against the weight and thickness of the entity like weapon.
Tch. You squirm, struggling, remembering the binds that hold you in place. “General!” You hold out both arms out towards his direction, desparate, giving your wrists out to him.
He sees you from the corners of his eyes, glancing for a second before forcing his focus to the assailant that threatens his life with ease.
Without hesitation, the General uses the weight of the whip, lowering his usage of strength and himself, now using the overwhelming momentum to force it downwards, barely dodging the vertical strike by tilting his side, a sharp air following, grazing his skin.
“Quite contradicting, are you?” His admirable strength and words that followed up bring you a sense of relief, amusement afterwards, as after images of parallel strikes, vertical, horizontal, diagonal free you from your binds.
“You like it,” you don't miss the chance to tease, grinning, moving your wrists to the opposite of each other, now moving with after-image like speed. “Do I distract you that much, General?”
“You-...” Instinct, instinct, instinct. His irises dilate, now sensing, feeling a throbbing dread that put him in a stunloc—“Focus,” you say, clicking your tongue, appearing just right infront of him again.
Your reflexes act, hands moving in elegant patterns, your own abilities manifesting that familiar golden dust-like summons as each particle hardens, coming into contact with multi-shooting, razor sharp attacks, parrying them in unsettling precision.
I truly don't understand the need to protect such selfish, greedy, imperfect anthropoids.
Cease your pet, I don't like how it uses my body to fuels itself.
Hmhm, you carry me most of your life, what's the difference of another presence?
It invades and drains me continuously, in a disgusting, putrid way most possible. Unlike you.
Flattering, somewhat, but no. Sounds of cracking could be heard, but you wouldn't hesitate to reinforce, the space all around you and the General filled with aerial destruction and explosions with each attack and defense.
You multitask, sighing, a hand moving lazily, snapping your fingers to the air beneath the two of you, setting up a barrier to protect those that remain on the Divination platform, and the whole floating structure itself.
You didn't have to protect, but you did. The natural reaction—no, reflex, for you being another surprise to the General, his eyes lowered to the see through glass-like barrier, protected from debris and the individual entity that caused the mayhem in the first place.
Then again, it did still stem from you, no?
The General glances back up to you, now standing idle, strucked with disorientation, his thoughts clashing with one another, like what you were currently doing right now.
No, you were performing, this was just another day for you, another day of familiarity. Just how much did you lose, endure in order to reach this state of almost Aeon-like advancements?
How... exhausted were you despite the strength you held? Those eyes, not once have they glimmered like in earlier events as you fend off the stray that came from you, or wherever else it came from. The radiance in your eyes, dulling, bored as it dilates to every precise attack it brings you, pinpointing its contact points with precision.
Not even Phantylia reached one-tenth of your speed and summoning.
“Sorry,” you mutter under your breath, only once had the sounds of explosions cease briefly, your unexpected apology heard and snapping Jing Yuan out of his thoughts. “I'm horrible,” you add, weak and nonchalant, but that undertone of bitterness was clear. To him only anyways.
He straightens, glancing between you, and what you had graced the ether with. A blazing, field of gold, mixed with a flashing images of the thick, dark colored serpentine that continued its relentless attacks, and you were still protecting not only him, but the whole Divination Commission space.
You were one to erase stars, your history of destruction painting over the world with your own light. Only to realize, in that self-made darkness, you were left alone time after time, surrounded by the Houkai you left behind. Huh? What?
...Don't mix your cognitive fragments with mine.
As if I could help it? You click your tongue in annoyance, deciding this situation was far too unnecessary, prolonged. You raise your hand, two fingers targeting the fast moving serpent, an orb that simulated a black hole, materializing, pulsing at the tip of your middle finger, the difference to it would be the color and how it works—it being made something of purity, transparency, visible-esqué sound waves, the closest you could describe it with, silly it may sound.
Hmph, you were experimenting with me.
A warning, actually. It surges, the orb sending off towards what your other conscience had manifested in speed even you can't quite grasp.
A low buzz it emanated, it was invisible to the naked eye, but not the sharp splitting of the clouds, Jing Yuan unable to process the severity of your strength as the clouds separate in a visible, razor sharp line. It was booming once it claimed impact, and you were unphased at the sound of a high frequency sounding explosion, once the serpentine expands in a gruesome way, withered and dissolving in its next sequences of death. It was just another day for you, but you can't say the same for the General.
Even in his 800 year long longevity.
He sighs, heavy. It's over. “...And you call you self horrible, after such a commendable, otherwordly feat?” The small frown that didn't suit your face goes unnoticed, right as you safely lower yourself and the General, drifting towards safety and back to the land. Minimal damage, in your eyes, but it was still damage, one that you had caused inevitably.
“What's commendable about all this, General?”
Rubble, cracks. Disorder, panic and peril. All in deafening, hollow silence. You'd see some people in the other platforms, safe, distanced yet disoriented, and their slowly increasing panic will become so much more once they will come to a realization that someone foreign to the Luofu had caused something so terrible.
Since visitation, of this grand hexafleet, whether it was brief or not, you would notice a troubling aura in the air, and beautiful—the skies, covered in raining gold, each leaf that welcomed themselves everywhere felt malicious, and the thought of causing destruction, hidden in beauty, hidden in aesthetics, it had set something so primal within you, it sickened you, disgusted you.
Given the chance, you would want to shrivel up in agony, processing the fact that these people's higher entities, hide their indefinite strength of terror behind something, masked in something.
They hide behind their emanators, commanding them, upholding their bidding, bestow them with a piece of their strength, and give those who choose and preside their path an even smaller fragment—all for what, exactly?
Lazy, prideful, lawless and with no purpose. They make factions based on their powers, limit those who follow their path with one or a few goals, dedicated to benefitting their Aeons wishes.
A few words out of many that you would describe how Aeons are really are. Then there's you, a Herrscher, one from a world that wasn't theirs, a concept they cannot understand, but it is human nature that they will try to do so—and it was human nature to take control of what threatens their species. Unknown specimens like you.
“...The IPC, as well as the Intelligencia Guild will certainly take interest in you, Miss Herrscher,” he breaks the silence, snapping you out from your heavy thoughts. He stood beside, staring with you onto the unpleasant sight. “They already have,” you add, moving your head to his direction, meeting his eyes, eyes that held softness.
“Just like me then,” you squint, processing his words. “You look at me as if I didn't just almost destroy a bit of architecture within the faction you lead, General.” You both fight back grinning, stifling the sly corners of your lips.
“And you certainly berate yourself like you just didn't protect the Divination Commission,” you clench your fist. This was protection? You tear away from his gaze again, letting the guilt overtake your amusement instantly, viewing the destructive sight you created. “You attempted to minimize the damage with the barrier, you kept your defenses purposeful, accurate, precise,”
He turns fully towards you, taking your attention with no effort, his words casually welcoming that swelling, warm feeling inside you again.
“You haven't attacked, not once during when my soldie—when I, encountered you,” what. The said heat only creeps up, up and up, grounded all over your face, spread to your ears. He was knelt on one knee, a hand placed over his chest, and all you could do was stare and still, trying to gain control over your facial muscles.
“Only until the last second, where you claimed victor against what threatened the Luofu, attacking only once, and it wasn't against our faction,” he looks up, assuming that charming smile, shifting even more into amusement once he took witness to your cute, confused expression, painted in flustered red.
“I didn't do—” “You did more than what I could,”
It really wasn't much. You purse your lips, not expecting him to interrupt and retaliate immediately. “I don't know how many more favors the Xianzhou Alliance will continue to owe, but with defending a part of our faction,” he lowers his head, bowing down.
“The Arbiter General will personally see to it that what you have caused within the Divination Commission would be sentenced to something more... forgiving.” Oh. That was funny. The audible exhale catches his attention, now rising his head to see you smiling widely, fighting back to laugh. “I was going to say... it would be very unsettling if I were somehow left unpunished,”
He'd mirror your expression, now pushing on his knee to stand, your gaze following his height as he stood tall, ravishing, and amused to your antics. “Mm, perhaps it would also be a chance to lengthen your stay, at least for a bit longer,”
“Missing me at the thought of my departure already, General Jing Yuan?” You'd see him freeze, his breathing paused, but his eyes would not dare to leave yours. If only you knew how deeply affected he was by you addressing him with his name the first time since the entirety of this.
“...You're dangerous,” he tilts his chin up, golden irises darkening with a certain glint.
“I did warn you,” you reply in the same tone, taking a step, closing the two-hand inch gap by one, your womanly instincts having a chance to let loose as your eyes mirrors his glint, seducing, alluring, and the cherry on top being that chesire-like grin, captivating him further.
And you knew he referred not with your strength, but the way you kept him provoked, challenged, on his toes, teasing and testing this generous, fine line between professionalism and another.
Your eyes shift instantly, a reflex as you see movement from him, his hands near reaching for your wais—“THERE YOU ARE!” A high pitched voice, all so familiar, jolts the both of you in place.
“Ah, it's Mar-... Wh—”This pink fool. Your foot rotates to her direction with dark prism-like barriers, quickly materializeling and sequenced like dominos towards her direction as she takes her rough landing with an 'oomph'.
“HAhua! See Mr. Yang? I told you she'd be fast enough to catch me!” Yang? Ah. You cock your head to the side, seeing past march to see a few others following her direction, towards you.
“That—that was still reckless March,” The Vidyhadra groans disapprovingly, only to have March laughing wryly while she rubbed the back of her head. “I'll... have to agree with Dan Heng, even I couldn't have done anything if something were to go wrong.” Welt adds, moving along with Dan Heng, two twins following along behind, only for one to shove past between her twin and the Vidyhadra, running—no, sprinting with emergency towards March, tackling her.
“Mm,” the whole spectacle leaves you dumbfounded, yet nostalgic in silence, all while familiar individuals gather and move towards you and the General. You assume they were called for assistance, but Welt would already assess that everything was already over, despite the disorder.
“...Whatever it is waiting for me,” you take the chance to break off the confusion, having a limited amount of privacy with the General left.
“I wouldn't mind being imprisoned again if it means keeping myself under your gaze, my General,” you return your sly, confident gaze to him, only for that to crumble, not having enough time to react and process as he leaned towards you swiftly.
“Then,” you let him lower your guard, letting him make you feel vulnerable, small yet womanly, letting that hand of his, opposite from the nearing group, slither from your hips, up towards your waist, seducing and with purpose, gripping your curve firmly as your cheeks brush against each other.
“Shall I bring further judgement to increase your punishment, Miss Herrscher?”
reblogs boost my audience reach, thank you.
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