#ESPECIALLY the other harbingers so rip them

[howthesleeplesswander]

Childe HC

even though the other Harbingers are technically higher ranked than him and therefore are "his superiors," it's honestly a 50/50 crap-shoot whether Childe will listen to a word they say at any given time 😂

he might not actually be #1 baddest bitch in Teyvat yet but that sure doesn't stop him from acting like he is aklfkdsj and I mean? what are they gonna do if he doesn't listen? get mad? fight him?? oh noooo what a terrible tragedy that would be

as far as he's concerned, his only real superior is the Tsaritsa herself. so unless she orders him to actually start listening to the other Harbingers, they're all gonna have to keep dealing with Childe being an insufferable bastard and acting exactly like his namesake asdflkdj

[quitealotofsodapop]

Wukong's reveal happened suddenly for him. He had simply been helping Pigsy and MK out with the food truck, making sure the truck was running smooth and helping with advertisement (look, as much as Pigsy loves the guy, he isn't letting anyone part of his oil and dirt covered fur near food he has to cook and serve to customers, that's a health code violation waiting to happen) and overall just being there to celebrate eith his friends. When the shop goes on break so that the family can eat and eatch the parade, he's right there with them, excitedly waiting for the fireworks and parade.

Only pandemonium and chaos begin as the Spider Queen attacks. I've mentioned this in dms before about how I believe Tang was passively creating a barrier of protection around MK simply because he is Tripitaka's reincarnation and therefore naturally masks and protects MK's own dao signature as a stone monkey and the Harbinger of Chaos and how it extends to other aus (namely TMKATI and peach soup). Well, in this case, it serves as a major negative because the spider bots are all attracted to his dao signature and that of the rest of the Noodle Gang, aiming to restrain and contain the msot powerful demons first so that Spider Queen can use them as her personal batteries.

Wukong may not be involved in Monkie Kid business and may have sworn off being the Monkey King, but he's still Wukong. He still has a martyr complex. So when he realizes that the Spider bots were attracted to powerful dao and that MK was useless against creepy crawlies due to his arachnophobia, he made a decision. MK and his friends need to run! It was the only way, but they can not escape with their own dao acting as a homing beacon for the tiny bots. But there was at least one person present who would be far too tempting for the Spider Queen and her posse. Someone who had spent many many lifetimes cultivating his dao and gaining power until his abilities and powers could rival and even defeat the very gods. He hadn't tapped into in centuries, and he quite frankly was worried what would happen if he did as there was no going back, ince he plays hishand and reveals his power there would be no way someone would not notice.

But MK and his family needed a distraction!

Wukong shoves Pigsy out of the way of a web, his own arm getting caught in it. But where other, lesser demons would have been pulled into the belly of the beast, Wukong stood strong.

"Uncle Wu!!"

"Go! GET OUT OF HERE!!"

Ripping the web from his arm, there was an explosion of golden power unlike anything any of the Noodle Gang had felt, all except one who could only staring in awe as his Little Big Brother poured the entirety of hus power out, blamketing the area in an aura of birnong protection and soothing light that he hadn'tfelt in centuries. A feeling he had sorely missed. Wukong glanced back at him, golden eyes gleaming as he silently urged Sandy to go with them. He took his cje and grabbed everyone, taking the distraction Wukong gave him as he wished his brother the best of luck.

The plan worked a little too well. Instantly, nearly every bot in the city began to converge on his location. He managed to play a game of cat and mouse for a good long while, leading the majority of them away and allowing several demons to escape, PIF and a certain Vixen included in that number altho he had never realized that particular fact. But he can't keep it up forever. It's inevitable he gets captured. After solidifying her takeover, Spider Queen was eager to take a look at her spoils, especially the mysterious source of that godly dao that coveres the entire city for a few brief moments! She didn't imagine she'd see a greasy little monkey in an oil stained white tank top who looked far too familiar to her for it to be a mere coincidence. And the moment she recognizes the face under the oil and grime, her day just got a whole lot more interesting!

Prev.

Yesss

Wukong accidentally breaks his 500+ years of cover to protect his loved ones!

Also the whole fam esp MK seeing dear "Uncle Wu" burst forth with a divine/demonic energy unseen in hundreds of years. All while wearing a stained tank top and stinking of gasoline.

However, this very same selfless act announces to every demon inside that Spider Mech and beyond; that Sun Wukong The Beautiful Wise Monkey King, The Great Sage Equal to Heaven - IS ALIVE!!!

DBK cannot believe his eyes.

Macaque can barely believe his ears.

And Wukong can't believe his big mouth/hero complex!

[knavesflames]

Ballroom dancing with arle, gimme 💳💳💳

Hellooooooo sorry I was away!! I was so busy :-( sorry it is short

Contents: dancing, ur scared to mess up lowkey, why is she being so mean by making u squirm like that

Word count: 663

Suggestive under the cut <33

“Keep your head up.”

The quiet, sharp yet caring voice sounds against the shell of your ear. Your head immediately lifts, your eyes scanning your surroundings. Her arm is wrapped around your waist, her hand giving gentle, reassuring squeezes every so often. It isn’t often you’re told to accompany her at one of her Fatui balls, but sometimes.. she can’t help but show you off. The Harbingers joke about you being the ‘eye candy’ hanging off of her arm, but they all know better than to push the limits of their jokes, especially when her dark eyes shoot daggers towards them. Protective is one word.. possessive is another. Both apply in your relationship. She isn’t afraid to make it know that you’re hers, and you aren’t afraid to flaunt you’re dating the Fourth Fatui Harbinger. And the way you say it so proudly every time provides a little bit of warmth in Arlecchino’s heart, a little crack in her cold exterior.

So it’s a given when she whispers in your ear, telling you what you have to do because she knows you need the reassurance, the direction. She turns to you, fixing a small piece of your hair, murmuring softly, her face ever cold.

“Don’t think too much. Follow what I do, I will guide you. Simply do not look down.”

With a breath of relief and a smile, you move towards the table with your place card. It’s hard to ignore Arlecchino’s fingers dancing up and down your thighs under the table, making you squirm and move in your seat. After a much enjoyed evening of food and wine (maybe a bit too much wine for you), you notice people moving towards the middle of the room. You exhale, a mix of sharp and shaky, because what if you embarrass yourself in front of the other Harbingers? What if you embarrass her?

She decides she’s finished making you squirm by trailing your thighs with those sharp, sharp nails, taking your hand and leading you to join everyone else. You try to focus on anything else, like a wrinkle in her suit, or a hair out of place. But you can’t find any. She’s dressed to perfection, just like usual, and for once, it’s slightly annoying.

“Head up. I have to see those pretty eyes.”

You swallow, letting her clasp your hand and snake her other arm around your waist again. Her grip is firm, like she doesn’t plan to let you mess up. Her face stares back at you, unreadable, almost blank, but the small twitch at the corner of her lips tells you that you’ll be fine. And of course, the dancing begins. You’re hesitant at first, almost always going to tilt your head down, stopped by the tap of a finger against your bicep. You’re secretly very glad she’s helping you silently, because you seem to be keeping up with everyone else. Until she decides to mess with you.. again.

“How much did this dress cost?”

“You bought it for me, I don’t know.”

“Hm.”

The dance continues in silence for a few seconds longer before she speaks again, a quiet murmur.

“I suppose you’ll have to make it worth my while when I rip it open.”

“Why would you do that?”

You feign ignorance, but you’re not. You just want to make sure you’re hearing her correctly. That she’s talking about doing that in the middle of a damn ball dance.

“So I can bounce you on my cock afterwards. You know exactly what I mean. The dress, while beautiful, will only get in the way. Unless you can’t take it, then..”

Your head is now kept up on its own as you stare into her eyes, a mix of disbelief and amusement appearing on your face with the slightest hint of want. Or is that need? Both. Your voice is equally as quiet, but it comes out quickly.

“I can take it.”

“I bet you can, pretty girl.”

[fatuismooches]

The way the little cakes in Arlecchino's masterpost look like wedding cakes 😭

As morbid as it sounds... this gives me an idea for an Arlecchino drabble/fic. Imagine Arlecchino proposes to her lover, but before they could have their wedding, their beloved dies/is killed 😭

synopsis: Arlecchino did not initially seek happiness, but now that she's had a taste of it, it hurts for it to be ripped away.

includes: arlecchino w/ gn! reader

notes: Anon...? Who hurt you? I didn't even think of the wedding cakes thing but then your angst? Enjoy this then </3.

Arlecchino, the Fourth Harbinger. The operator of the House of Hearth. The one who has a talent for making people... disappear.

However, despite all of the facts above, to say the Knave was smitten with her lover was an understatement. Yes, even someone like her had a partner, which bewildered anyone who even knew her name.

Most people were not aware of your existence, save for the people that worked at her estate, who were obviously sworn to secrecy. And then there were the Fatui agents stationed at the orphanage who saw you every now and then. Initially, they were confused, but seeing your interactions with their commander, they quickly connected the dots, especially when Arlecchino sent them that look. Working under the Knave generally meant you had to be tight-lipped anyway.

But engagement and marriage can hardly ever be a quiet affair. Word was bound to get out, and it did. After all, one of the Cryo Archon's Harbingers getting married was practically international news. Especially Arlecchino, who never seemed to have a trace of emotion on her face. But with enough control, the word of her union was contained to the Fatui and other high-ranked nobles. Even the Tsaritsa herself was said to be attending the wedding.

It had grown into a bigger event than Arlecchino had planned for, but when she saw how happy you were, she couldn't bring herself to complain. She could endure some idiots for a day if it were for you. She would do a lot of things for you, actually. Never would she have thought of getting married, much less genuinely falling in love. Always, she was out to benefit herself and didn't care for the aftermath of her actions. But after she met you, she knew couldn't ever do that to you. And now, here she was today.

Admittedly, at first, Arlecchino was unsure of how to propose to you. She had bought the ring already, one with a brilliant red stone, a gorgeous thing that would look even better on your finger. (She measured your ring size while you were sleeping.) But now she was left with the problem of how she was to go about doing this. What would you like the best? Should she take you somewhere fancy? Or prepare some words for you? She did not know. She never breached the topic of marriage with you so she had nothing to go off of. As the days passed by, she could only play with the ring with her fingers as she stared at it contemplatively.

Although Arlecchino remained stone-faced during work, Columbina had noticed her friend's dilemma, which at first had proved to be amusing for the Third Harbinger, but even she had grown to feel pity.

"Arlecchino~♫ That's quite a long face you're wearing, hmm?"

"...Oh. It is you, Columbina. Is there something you require?"

"Hehe, it seems to me that you are the one that needs help instead, isn't that so?" At Columbina's cheekiness, she knew what her friend was referring to.

"I am just... uncertain of how to proceed," she confessed, and Columbina hummed in agreement.

"I say you just be honest," Columbina said simply. "You're not a very talkative person, are you? Perhaps this one time you should use your words to describe how you truly feel. Don't rehearse or plan it. It will come to you naturally. I think [Name] would enjoy that more than anything else."

Arlecchino had thought about what she said. Would you enjoy something like that? She was slightly frustrated at how unskilled she was in matters of the heart. But the more she pondered, the more impatient she grew. She wanted you to be hers now.

And so, one morning, you woke up to your cheek being pressed against something soft. It was probably just a pillow, you thought in your sleepy haze. Until you realized this pillow was stroking your hair repeatedly. When you peeked up, you were astonished to see your lover still in bed by now. Normally, she was up early in the morning and returned late at night, so morning cuddles while you were awake were far in between. The rare occurrence had made all the sleepiness in you dissipate as you shuffled in Arlecchino's arms, drawing her attention.

"A-Arlie? Why are you still in bed? Normally you're gone way earlier!" She merely shrugged her shoulders like it was no big deal.

"Partners must make time for each other, no?" She didn't elaborate but she didn't need to, you already knew what she was trying to say and you were overjoyed by this simple gesture. Her warmth and presence had suddenly made the sleepiness seep back into your body, but now that you finally had Arlecchino to yourself again, it felt like a waste to spend that time sleeping! You should spend this time talking to her! Although it was mostly you doing all the talking while she bore her eyes into you (an act of unspoken love.)

Arlecchino quickly noticed you fighting your drooping eyelids. "Sleep," she commanded. "I will be back earlier today as well." With that, she placed a kiss on your forehead, and though you were even more surprised at her early return, you drifted back to the land of dreams.

When you awoke, she was gone, but that was okay. Because soon into the evening you were somehow having dinner with your beloved. It was probably the longest dinner you ever had, as you couldn’t help but babble and bask in the presence of Arlecchino as she nodded and hummed, sometimes putting in a few words or even sentences of her own when you asked her how her days have been lately, and if everything was okay since this was kind of unusual, but in no way were you complaining! But she graced you with a rare small smile and instead continued to feed you dinner and occasionally wipe your mouth with a napkin. When she easily carried you bridal style to your shared bedroom, all the servants kept their eyes on the ground.

After the two of you took a bath together, you knew for sure something was up. And you weren’t sure what was happening. Was she just in a good mood? Or did she have something to tell you? You didn’t realize you were pacing back and forth in your room until Arlecchino broke into your thoughts.

“Are you alright?” To others, her face would look the same but you could see the concern laced within her features.

“I am fine… but are you okay? I mean, I’m incredibly happy about today, but you seem… distracted,” you admitted. You knew from the flicker in her eyes you were right. She had become more vulnerable with her emotions around you.

“I have something to tell you, [Name].” With that, she moved closer to you until your bodies were practically touching. “It’s something very important…” she murmured, a lean and strong arm coming to rest on your back while the other cupped your cheek.

“I have thought long and hard about how to say this, but nothing I think of seems like it’ll be up to the standards you deserve. But nevertheless, I hope you can accept my words.” You were touched by her sincere vulnerability. You leaned in to press your forehead against hers and Arlecchino’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You don’t need to worry about being graceful or perfect around me, you know. I’ll take anything you have to say, love.” Your lover did not respond but you know she deeply appreciated your answer. She stepped back and instead intertwined her fingers with your own.

“I am not adept with words or feelings, or romance or emotions. I saw no need to be acquainted with those things, having believed they served no beneficial purpose. But when I look at you, I feel the urge to make sure you know the extent of my love, whether I have to whisper it into your ear or show you. Not once have I thought someone was truly beautiful until I met you. Your eyes, smile, laugh… they make my days less tiring and more bright, something that I have never experienced before. So, what I am saying… no matter what happens in the future… I want you to forever be by my side,” she finished, getting down on one knee and looking straight into your eyes. As she popped open the ring box, she asked, “[Name], will you marry me?”

After a few seconds of silence, tears sprung to your eyes as you nearly tackled her in a hug. Through your weeping, you happily accepted and cried out her real name, as she slid the ring onto your finger. Her soon-to-be spouse.

You were engaged to Arlecchino… wow.

Now, Arlecchino preferred to leave the details of the wedding planning to you. It wasn't that she was uninterested, no, of course not, but rather she was more content seeing how excited you were over it. It was the dream of many people to plan their most important day, down to the placement of each decoration and how this color matches with that and so on. Plus, although she loathed to admit it, her duties as a Harbinger left her little time. 

Though when she managed to get off early, she made sure to listen to every word you spoke about how the preparations were going, adding in little 'hmms' and 'that does sound lovely' here and there as she protectively cuddled you to her chest. The theme, flowers, colors, venue, outfits, music… you were putting thought into many things. She had to admit that though she was more focused on the act of marrying you rather than the party aspect, the way you spoke about it seemed like it may be more than enjoyable for her. Hopefully, because she did not plan on getting married ever again.

Speaking of preparations, it seemed that you had a request for her by the way your eyes shyly flickered from her face to elsewhere. Arlecchino held your chin and inquired what you needed. Her betrothed need not be shy about anything. Your face grew warm as you whispered two words embarrassingly.

“Cake testing.”

“Cake… testing?” She repeated your words slowly. You nodded your head.

“It’s basically where the couple samples a bunch of cakes together. And they decide which one they want. You know, for the wedding. So, I was thinking maybe we could go together… just for a bit! I know you’re busy and all…” Your face grew hotter the more she stared at you. Archons, that was embarrassing.

To be honest, Arlecchino wasn’t very informed about wedding rituals or customs, but by the look on your face, she could see that this was very important to you. And so she promised to find some time off. (But… cake testing, huh? Out of all things, you asked her to share sweets with her? You were so cute.)

It took a while, but eventually, you found your arm intertwined with Arlecchino’s one, situated with tables of cakes and different desserts to sample from. Of course, no expense was spared. Only the best was to be offered to the Fourth Harbinger and her soon-to-be spouse.

Arlecchino did not have much of a sweet tooth, but she was all too happy to watch you kick your feet at the delicious flavor of the cakes. To obediently open her mouth as you fed her some yourself. To listen to you ramble on about how you liked this one but that one was also too good, ah, how hard life decisions were! (The scene looked quite eerie to the staff, and they weren’t sure whether they were dreaming or having a nightmare, for this surely could not be real life. Not the Knave, the ice-cold snappy and sarcastic Harbinger who brought only fear and anxiety into the room.)

After many conversations and cake-consuming, you arrived at one final cake - pure white with a blood-red cherry on top. It looked mouth-watering, and you were all too happy to bring the fork to your mouth. Arlecchino had her fill of sweets for the day and was content to hold you to her chest as you ate. She liked seeing you happy.

A cough resonated through the room. Arlecchino stiffened and looked down at you worriedly. “That’s enough sugar for now, don’t you think? You won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Her eyebrows furrowed as she received no verbal response. Only this time it was not just a cough. It was coughs and hacks and wheezes. Immediately she was on guard and quickly flipped your body around as the plate clattered to the floor. You were clutching your throat and practically fell into her, weakness overtaking your body. Never had so much surprise shown on Arlecchino’s face.

Quickly, she yelled for the servants, something no one had ever seen her do, but she did not care. You tried to force out her real name as you gripped onto the cuff of her shirt with everything you had left. Her eyes skittered to what you were eating and instantly made a connection. Without hesitance, she reached for another cherry and put it in her mouth and that’s when she knew. 

Poison. Someone poisoned you. As a highly trained Harbinger, she was resistant to many types of poison, but you… you were just a… normal person. Who would- who could not… She could only look on helplessly as the life in your eyes dissipated and you failed to respond to her calls. Never did Arlecchino believe she could be so powerless. Not until now.

At this point, many Fatui and staff had crowded into the room as well. But it was too late. Many stared not only in horror at your stillness, but also the sheer anger and bloodlust radiating off of the Knave.

The feeling was one unfamiliar to Arlecchino. Never had she lost someone that made her feel like her heart, soul, and body had been burned and withered to ashes. Because you were the first person she loved. You were the one who gave her a taste of what happiness was like. But now you had also given her the taste of genuine loss. 

As she cradled your lifeless body, she made another promise to you and herself, one that she would keep this time:

You wouldn’t be the only person dying today.

[lady-quen]

On Mael and the Dream - lore exploration

I've been hanging around the Grove and listening to NPC dialogue which got me thinking about sylvari and the Dream (though, to be honest, when am I not thinking about that lately..)

As a Soundless not by choice ever since his revival, Mael misses the connection quite a bit - thankfully Aurene fills some of that void with the Champion-Scion bond. Essentially, going from Dreamer to suddenly and traumatically severed, Mael feels like a part of his own ability to feel emotion was ripped away, and struggles with friendship, seeing that "missing piece" everywhere and as though none of his relationships can truly feel "right" anymore. He describes the visions he sees in his sleep as "being submerged in dark water with chain and weight at his feet" - knowing there are voices calling out to him but being unable to hear them.

Coupled with the loss of Trahearne, he feels like he might genuinely be unable to feel love again, and becomes extremely emotionally secluded behind his mask of snarky humor. The overwhelming absence of the Dream tricks him into thinking that relationships with other races cannot ever be as "deep and true" as those between sylvari, leading to quite the mental crisis as he learns to adjust to the abrupt change with the help of the party, the Soundless community, and Aurene.

He seeks out an audience with the Pale Tree as soon as his duties afford him the time, but is ultimately told he cannot be helped, since the Dream is a part of the magic domain of Mind and Mael's own innate magic was replaced along with his life force. The Mother herself was unable to see anything beyond the point of his death, and initially believed him tragically deceased.

Mael then confesses he no longer feels worthy of Caladbolg, especially now when he is closer to a lich than sylvari - some form of cruel joke considering Mazdak the Accursed's role in the death of Riannoc, as well as the lich's eventual demise at Mael's own hands. Having ended two between Mazdak and Joko, the Lichslayer had now become the very monster he once hunted - the original harbinger of death to the sylvari. The Pale Tree however only responds that though she may no longer see him, she would always love him, and that death was as much a part of life as anything - that there was a reason why events had gone the way they had, and how she ultimately still trusts him as her child, no matter how changed. Though still struggling, he promises to hold onto the sword until a new Knight of the Thorn rises, a full circle from originally recovering the blade.

In a sense, fearing his own corruption through his twisted magic, he is glad his experiences could not affect the rest of the sylvari. As for Caladbolg itself - despite how much he feels giving it up to be the right thing to do, it's the only connection to Trahearne he still has, and so he decides he would only process the grief of parting with it once again if the Mother called for it. For now, it remained his to safekeep, just like his dearheart's memory.

During his own personal journey of self-reflection, the Soundless of the Weeping Isle play a notable role. At first, Maelmordha expresses how he finds it difficult to fathom why one might choose to separate oneself from the Dream willingly, which comes across as highly offensive to the Isle's villagers - a rare fumble from the usually open-minded Dawnborn. Still, a total separation is unheard of among sylvari, even those who had deliberately meditated years to quieten the connection - having it happen so suddenly and so wholly nearly broke the Commander's already troubled mind. Spending time learning about the Soundless' reasoning and ways of life with Eona as his mentor was an important step in improving the Commander's mental health.

It takes time, but he learns to open up again and accept the fact his emotions aren't broken, he just needs time to relearn them and accept himself as he is.

[moosethren]

The Harbinger - A the Bad Batch/Avatar AU

commission by Ziorre

Since I recently finished an introduction drabble to the Avatar/TBB AU, I figured I might as well post it.

You can read it below the readmore, or check out my AO3!

No warnings apply. Tech x OC Ship.

Seeing this old clan return - these Sarentu - had been a mixed blessing for Ash. Relief for their continued existence, that their old ways hadn’t been entirely wiped out. That these children were free to find their own way, after having been trapped inside an RDA facility. But it also brought painful reminders of what she had lost herself. While her clan hadn’t been wiped out, it might as well be, with how unreachable it’d ever be to her. These children were lucky to still have each other at least. 

She hadn’t been part of the group that had freed them. On So’lek’s behalf, she had taken out a small RDA encampment nearby, acting as a distraction to the local RDA during the escape. A trivial task but a necessary one. 

Now she sat in the Resistance HQ, watching the Sarentu walk around; their eyes big in wonder and confusion both. Her tail flickered idly across the floor and her gaze was fixed on them, despite slowly chewing on a piece of dried meat. Not even when So’lek crouched down next to her, did her eyes falter from them. 

“You are looking at them, like a palulukan licking its lips,” he said in hushed Na’vi, leaning a bit closer.

Her gaze flickered enough to give him an affronted look. “I am not.” He raised his brow at her. “Tssh, so what if I am. They are children.” Ash waved her hand dismissively. “They have no idea what kind of world they have been thrust into.”

“That is exactly why they need our guidance. To learn what it is like to be a true Na’vi.”

“Congratulations then, it seems you have a big task ahead of you.” Ash pointedly ripped off a piece of the meat with her teeth, continuing to ignore him. 

“They are competent. One of them helped chase away the RDA when I was too injured to fight them myself.” 

“You were too injured to fight?” Much to her chagrin - she could see the pleased smirk on his face - she turned to fully look at him now. “You’re getting careless.”

He gave a low chuckle before he let out a whistle, startling the four Sarentu nearby, as well as the humans. The latter were quick to return to their business in relief when it was obvious it didn’t concern them. The Sarentu however, glanced at each other before making their way over. They too crouched down, with reverence guiding their every careful step. Ash shot So’lek a quick glare. 

“Everyone, this is Ash,” he began, gesturing towards her with respect. “Ash, this is Ri’nela, Teylan, Nor and Layl’atan. I am sure they are all eager to hear the wisdom you can provide.” Her ears flattened in disapproval. If only she had wisdom to share that weren’t related to utter failures. 

“Only wisdom they need to know is that I don't take kindly to being prodded.”

“Ash has much in common with a wuwuk le’awtu,” So’lek began, prompting a groan from her. “But she has been with the resistance for as long as I have. Her experience will teach you well.” 

“My experience won’t be around for long. I’m headed to the Upper Plains. Varga’s called for me.”

The young Sarentu exchanged looks with each other, especially after So’lek’s concerned frown. “What is she up to?” he asked. 

“Oh, she is not. The RDA are. I’m going to find out what.” 

He shook his head displeased. “They are a curse on these lands but they will find that the zeswa will not tolerate them easily.”

Ri’nela leaned forward slightly to gently enter the conversation, her hand resting over her heart. “That is why we wish to help,” she nodded. “Why we want to be useful. We have missed so much while we… slept.” Her black hair was already decorated with a few beads, as if she’d taken the chance the moment she could. 

“That’s exactly why you four need to focus on staying here,” So’lek was quick to hold up his hand. “You need to find yourselves before you can be useful.”

“I can fight!” Layl’atan protested. “You saw me do it!” Ash watched the young Sarantu. With blue eyes and very dark brown hair and his RDA gear already scuffed at the edges from a recent battle. He must have been the one who fought to save So’lek’s life during their escape.  Nor and Teylan both were listening intently, looking exactly the same since their escape. All human gear. 

“You fight like sky people. You will need to learn to fight like Na’vi to survive out here. Don’t worry. I will teach you.”

Nor let out a disappointed groan. “You sure we even can now? It isn’t too late?”

“It will come naturally to you. No matter what they say - what Alma says - you are Na’vi. It will become familiar.” 

“Sounds like you got your hands full then,” Ash tilted her head towards So’lek, as she stood up. She adjusted her clothes a little, while the others stood up as well, watching her. It was a bit uncomfortable, so she turned her attention to So’lek, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“Keep the younglings safe, ma‘eylan. Kìyevame.” Towards the others, she raised her fingers against her forehead before lowering it again, turning to leave the resistance building. Her ears lowered against her skull during the noise of the airlock’s activation, before she could step back outside, taking a deep breath of proper air. 

There was no time to rest though. She let out a whooping cry, immediately hearing something in the trees above. The blue and yellow ikran came diving down from the trees, landing easily on the ground nearby. He shook his head, the seashells hanging from his armour glittering in the sunlight between the trees. Upon her approach, he let out an excited shriek. 

“There, there, Rim’tekre,” she soothed him, running her hand along his neck. His blue skin was warm to the touch, with the yellow markings dancing along the skin, up to his head where it was shaped like a skull. Why his name, Yellow Skull. Still, most of him was covered in the thick but beautiful ikran armour with seashells and feathers from the Clouded Spires.  

“We have a bit of a flight ahead of us. We’re going to see Varga.” She climbed up on his back, making the bond and clarifying her request again in a way he’d understand. Fly to the north, until the trees disappear and endless plains lay ahead.

—

Hunter spun the knife between his fingers, over and over. A practised move that seemed to flow as easily in a recom’s fingers as his former human ones. Or perhaps not his former human ones. That fact had been made very clear when he had first awoken. He only shared the memories and personality of the human soldier once known as Hunter.

He caught the knife by its handle, watching it in his hand. He was only a clone, a piece of neurologic hardware crammed into a Na’vi/Human hybrid called a recombinant or just a recom. Hunter didn’t know what to think about it. All he knew was that he still felt like… himself. What he was now, had to be accepted, for the sake of continuing his job, because that hadn’t changed with the supposed rebirth. 

Sighing, he pushed himself up from the bed he’d been sitting on, leaning against the window to look outside. It was night but with all the bright lights inside the RDA headquarters, it might as well have been day. 

He ran his hand through his hair, glancing back at his brothers sitting on their respective beds in the room they shared alone. They were all dressed in the same standard RDA off duty outfits, minding their own business after the harrowing day. 

Hunter had been the first one to awake in his new body, probably because they wanted the leader and the oldest around first. In order to soothe the other three as they woke up in turn. 

Wrecker had been second, his recom body bulkier and taller than that of a Na’vi or even an Avatar. Hunter knew their new bodies retained their enhanced abilities from their human ones, already before he’d seen Wrecker. The slight tingle of everything electromagnetic around them had been a constant buzz in the back of his head since he’d woken up. 

One of the doctors had almost been thrown against a wall, as Wrecker had stumbled about; confused about his new body. And severely underestimating the strength of it. It would take him a while to re-learn that with the new one. Hunter’s voice had helped, as well as to physically hold his brother in place during the worst of it. Barely. Not even two hours out of his own pod and he’d already received a blow to his nose that a doctor had to look at.

Tech had been next and significantly calmer than Wrecker or even Hunter himself had been. He had only sat up calmly, letting the doctors take their time with him, while he silently had adjusted to the new reality. Then he’d been right onto business, wanting a briefing about what had just occurred. 

Right now Tech sat and studied the end of his own queue, clearly marvelling at the alien body he now inhabited. That only lasted for a few moments before he was back onto his datapad, reading through the whole process they’d been through.

Tech’s twin - at least Hunter assumed they were still twins - sat on another bed; staring down at the floor between his knees. Crosshair had been the last to awaken and had almost been as bad as Wrecker in his reaction. The difference was that this time Wrecker had been around to properly restrain him; as Crosshair had hissed and snarled at anyone approaching. So far, it seemed he struggled the most with what had happened, constantly clutching at his head.

They were all strange to look at, not because of their new bodies but because… some vital things were missing. Luckily they still had their tattoos. That seemed to have been arranged during the creation of their new bodies. According to Tech, it was sensible since it’d make less of a shock when switching to them. 

But their scars were gone. Wrecker’s normally damaged eye was as good as new. Tech didn’t have his goggles, because his vision had been perfected. Though he had made a loud note to get a pair of new ones for other reasons, beyond just his vision. 

They all had black hair instead now too, except Crosshair who had somehow retained his near white. Their eyes were all a brown golden hue, more similar to their own as humans. 

That they had similar facial features and looked near identical was something they were accustomed to since before. Already as humans, they had been enhanced clones, super soldiers. Hunter’s enhanced senses, Wrecker’s strength, Tech’s intelligence and Crosshair’s superior sight. It was the first thing that the doctors had checked. Their main priority. All Hunter had received for his questions about the cause of their human bodies’ destruction were strict orders to stay in their quarters until they were called for. Any resistance would be heavily punished. So the men sat in silence, trying to adjust. 

They had to wait only for a few hours for their first debriefing. With none other than General Frances Ardmore herself, although through a screen only. 

“Welcome to the waking world, boys,” she coldly greeted them; as they saluted their superior officer. “I’ll keep things short. You are aware of our current situation, yes?”

“Yes, we have read through the files presented to us.”

“Good. As you then know, we are in the middle of a war here, again. I’ll need you boys to get into top shape as soon as possible and then you’ll be stationed at the Western frontier.”

“Sir? The Western frontier? I thought we were going after the Resistance here?”

“No. The Blue Team will deal with Jake Sully and his Resistance. You’re needed in the frontier. Once you’ve arrived at the base there, report to Director Rampart and help him keep things under control. He will tell you more. Any questions?”

Hunter glanced back at Tech who nodded encouragingly. 

“Sir, the reports said nothing about our… cause of death. We’d like to know how it happened.”

“If the information wasn’t given to you, it’s a need to know basis only.”

“But it’s.. it was our own deaths, General. Surely -”

“I am certain that I did not stutter, soldier.”

Hunter found his ears pinned along his skull in sudden shame. “You did not. Apologies, sir.” 

“Good. You have one week to adjust to your new bodies. Don’t disappoint me.” 

[tosxah]

&&. | @nagareboshiko

He insisted- no he reaaaaally insisted. Throwing a party with him as the guest of honour? He just spent four years fighting a space whale in the rip of the fabric between space and time, he relived his childhood trauma on repeat as his delusion kept him alive, every day, over and over and yet for you just over a month had passed... It was nothing. But when they asked for a third time in the same conversation, he guessed he couldn't keep turning it down, it would just be impolite. So it went ahead, his time in Fontaine that was originally meant to be a holiday finally seemed to actually become one. The odd looks and stares in the street become less so because he was a harbinger but more so because he was that harbinger, like he was some kind of hero- he guessed it caused no harm to enjoy that while it lasted.

Despite his cutthroat modesty, he was actually pretty surprised at how grandiose this affair was actually becoming. Especially when it turned out his normal attire was not 'fitting'. Though the letter put it nicer than that, he didnt see any reason why his normal wear wouldn't be suited for a party... Despite this, he wore the outfit that came in the parcel that had been sent to the place he'd been staying in and wore it without a fuss. He was almost concerned when it was tailored to his exact measurements, he wasnt even sure his own standard clothes fit him this well.

When he got to the party, it was more or less already in full swing; the people bustling, mingling, lively. Though he may have been invited as the invite d'honneur, the event was to celebrate the lives won, and lives lost in the recent flood that almost took all of their lives. So no fanfare for his entrance? That was fine, in the end he wasn't actually the one to take the beast down.

As he looked over the crowd- some smiling and waving when they caught his eye, other's tipping their hats in a thanks to which he nodded in a 'it was nothing'- eyes landed on a familiar face, though not so familiar in other ways. It took Childe a moment to fully recognise her, like his mind was playing some odd trick, like a work of art with a hidden meaning he couldn't quite put words too. She was a vision of beauty, the lonely traveller.

Childe approached the woman like a shooting star amongst stars in the night sky, you couldnt help but look and too scared if you'd blink you'd miss it. He opened a hand out to her with his usual smile and to his delight she took it.

"More like a brotherly one." The harbinger replied in earnest. It's a knight's honour to dance with a princess, that's what he had told Tonya when she'd play the same record she's had since she was 6 and he'd have her on his feet as he swayed them about the room. He'd be the first to admit he hadnt the slightest idea what he was doing at first; Batya was too ill to teach him, Mama too busy and his older siblings wanted little to do with him. Though there were rare occasions he'd get to see his family dance, when father was feeling well and he'd waltz with his mother in the kitchen to the radio or when his eldest brother got married and he only arrived at the wedding early enough to catch the first dance. Time was a good teacher, and Tonya was a faster learner, all the better for him in turn to get better. He doubted Pulcinella or Skirk would have taught him anything of the sort... Those two dancing? That conjured a funny thought. "You'll pick it up in no time, there's not been a thing I haven't seen you do." With that, Childe led her to an open space on the dance floor, a live band playing music with a good enough pace to move too yet still relaxed in nature. Other couples around them danced to their own rhythms it would seem, some simply swaying in embrace, some dancing like they had lessons their whole life- a mother and son, a sister and brother, two close friends, the people who survived the flood.

Placing his hand on her waist was a slight challenge, being taller than her meant his hand was resting more on her side than her hip. He kept a respectable distance between their bodies, and held her hand as he lead their dance at a casual pace; two steps to the left, one to the right, repeat. It was more just fancy walking than a dance really. "I like the dress. Darker colours suit you."

[blade-liger-4ever]

RWBY X Transformers Partnerships 1: Qrow Branwen and Wheeljack - Death from Above

"I gotta warn ya, pal. I'm a bad luck charm."

"Bad luck charm, huh? Let's see if we can put that to use."

"...Pardon?"

"Scientifically speaking, your little power would work on everything EXCEPT for where you're standing, right? So, if you were to just sit on my shoulder, or ride along in my chest compartment, and we go behind enemy lines..."

*a lightbulb clearly turning on in Qrow's brain* "I like the way you think, Sports Car."

Shortly after the portal shenanigans, I think Wheeljack would find himself in Vale. Once he wakes up, he'd transform and try to contact the others, staying in V-mode while he scans his surroundings. Somehow, he picks up on a signal that has both a similarity and a dissimilarity to energon, and needing to keep himself functioning, Wheeljack would investigate and find a shipment of Dust in the dockyards. Confused but unable to resist that scientific urge to know how these weird rocks work, Wheeljack rips open a cargo container and lets some refined Dust fall into his hand. After he's scanned it and found that they're (relatively) safe to ingest, he'd shrug and down the mouthful.

The catch? It was Lightning Dust. And he just ate like thirty of these suckers.

Cue Wheeljack now hyperactive and doing all manner of scans on the shipments of Dust, quickly figuring out that Dust shares many of its compounds with energon and that, while obviously having side effects on Cybertronians, it won't kill them in the long or short term. However, Wheeljack's transformation and rapid running between different cargo containers has alerted the authorities to his presence, and after a mild confrontation, the Wrecker scientist takes off at a much higher speed than normal.

He's driven about thirty miles before the lightning aspect of his meal wears off, and as he finds a place to recover and figure out what to do, a crow flies into him just as he transforms. Looking down, Wheeljack's surprised to see the bird turn into a human male, not to mention radiating a strange energy. Knowing protocol for human-Cybertronian meetings is likely a lost cause here, Wheeljack bends down and picks up the man to make sure he hasn't suffered a concussion - then badgers him about how he transformed and is perpetually generating a weird energy.

After a few minutes of snarking, questioning, and legitimate conversation, Wheeljack learns this human is named Qrow (with a Q, the man stressed), and is a Huntsman trying to learn what's still going on at the remains of Beacon Academy. Figuring he can help and knowing he needs a guide if he's to find the 'Bots, Wheeljack convinces Qrow to let him drive the Huntsman there. On the drive, Qrow casually explains about Grimm, Aura, Semblances, and the level of technology they have, listening with interest as the Wrecker explains about Cybertronians, their planet, the war, the factions, as well as the Wreckers themselves.

Though they don't usually bond easily with people, Qrow and Wheeljack find they have similar mindsets, and a friendship quickly forms as they scout the remains of Beacon. Blasting and slashing some Grimm on the way in and out, Qrow decides to take Wheeljack back to Patch with him to figure out how to find his friends - and get him Dust without breaking over fifty international laws.

When together, Qrow and Wheeljack tend to be the resident snarkers, always managing to annoy the strictest of people while endearing themselves to the kids, especially the likes of Ruby and, to an extent, Mercury and Neptune. They trade banter as if they were old friends, watching each other's back from the ground and sky respectively, and work together on weapons' projects. Wheeljack can't help but be impressed by Qrow's weapon, Harbinger, praising the ingenuity of it and lightly ribbing him about how his daughter inherited his brains.

Coincidentally, this would probably be the moment Ruby discovers her true heritage, and since Wheeljack got a scan of their DNA, there's no going back from the Wrecker's slip. This is the first time their friendship is strained, but more surprising is that Wheeljack finds that he's the one who has to make someone face the truth. He picks up Qrow before the man can go for the bottle, and after a short argument, Wheeljack points out that Qrow's been throwing his life away and letting his own daughter live a lie. Sure, it doesn't matter if it's him, but what happens to the one who looks up to him if he dies?

"Fact is, Sunshine, Ruby's been following in your footsteps since she could waddle. You can mourn, you can drink, but you'd better be ready to right things between you, 'cause otherwise one of you is gonna lose the other, and whoever's left is gonna be kicking themselves until they find a way to join you in the next life."

This manages to get through to Qrow, but he points out that Wheeljack was oddly specific in that dressing down. Wheeljack has to admit that Smokescreen had been following him around for a few weeks one time, and after one mission nearly got them both killed, he realized just how much he had to clean up his own act. After this moment of bonding, the two become like brothers, spending time with Ruby and Smokescreen while still kicking Decepticon tailpipe and fighting off Salem's forces - aided greatly by Wheeljack's alt-mode and Qrow's bad luck power, something that never ceases to wow their two charges.

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

And there's our first partnership, people! Much like the team attack names, each partnership will get a nickname. I chose "Death from Above" because of how TFP Wheeljack tends to drop down on his enemies, and because of Qrow's super-move with Harbinger. Dunno when I'll get to the next match up, but I've got a lot of possibilities right now, so we'll see who comes after these two troublemakers.

Until next time, folks!

[idyllic-affections]

so i was thinking about pantalone, as always. dude lives in my head rent free. and. i had a thought.

tw & cw: attempted poisoning, assassination attempt gone TERRIBLY wrong (...but on the assassin's behalf rip 🙏🙏🙏🙏), um. murder, i suppose???? implied human experimentation???? HELP IDK HOW TO TAG THIS POST

pantalone & fatuus!bodyguard!reader. maybe the reader is a childhood friend of his who he wanted to help out, or maybe they're just a fatui agent he grew really fond of. maybe reader couldn't give less of a fuck about the tsaritsa and is really just there for pantalone. who knows? anyway.

all harbinger likers seem to very much like the idea that the fatui hosts annual events such as balls for diplomacy reasons and whatnot, and i believe it is implied to be canon actually. this is one thing all harbinger likers agree on 🤝

so... you see, i think it's very likely that someone would always try to assassinate any of the given harbingers at these events, but pantalone especially--i mean... he is himself. he would be a very lucrative target. sure, any and all of the harbingers can handle themselves. but pantalone should not have to waste his energy on such a menial thing!!!!!!

bodyguard!reader, who elegantly switches his glass for theirs with a tight-lipped, knowing smile. and that's enough reason for him to trust them--that look of sheer fucking annoyance on their face. pantalone thinks it's funny actually. like, he knows he was about to be poisoned. they know he was about to be fucking MURDERED. and they're just acting like it's a mild inconvenience... which it is, since this probably happens every month.

and then they sneakily switch the assassin's glass for theirs, sauntering off to some corner and waiting. and then watching the assassin drop dead a bit later in the middle of the event. gracefully smiling and easing other guests' concerns, before they and some of their lower ranked coworkers drag the body out of sight to dispose of it. or perhaps to donate it to dottore as a gift on the regrator's behalf for... science <3

[originemesis]

The darkness subsids and what the Harbinger sees next is a scene long since past. Adam would recall this spot very well as he looks up at the skies of Hell. The warm brimstone beneath him made only warmer by flowing yellow ichor that traces down the curved bumps of maskless cheeks. He should remember now the beating he had taken from Lucifer, the relentless pummeling of a being far more powerful than him and the cracking ache of broken pride and... Realization. But of what? Oh, he knows, he knows very well what this whole mission was meant to be...

From above him, the form of the Wrathful One stands over him, Adam finds that he cannot speak or move, forced to listen.

"The poor Gardner, what will they take from you next? They had ripped Eden from you, they had doomed you to a loveless life, stole a rib and just as you thought it was over, they took her from you. Of all the souls that had been recruited, yours is the most... Volatile. You make sure you are the loudest in the room, that all the attention is upon you because you know well the truth. Your purpose in existence had concluded long ago. You had populated the Earth. Congratulations. Your existence is not needed any longer, the mere fact you had made it this far as a notable other is impressive and yet, if credits were to roll, your name would appear in a long list of nameless others. You are no longer someone special and maybe... You knew that."

The scene shifts suddenly, in the first humans arms is his lieutenant. The dagger that had taken her life still driven within her body. She looks up at him with a smile that reads an emotion that he wishes to know and with unsaid words, he would never know.

"Maybe that is why you had given up. Maybe that is why you never pushed yourself. The exterminations were so easy, so one sided. You were invincible, you didn't need discipline, you didn't need to care because everything was already catered to. Just show up, kill, leave, repeat. But now... If you had done more, if you hadn't slacked off and fool yourself into everything being so simple and easy... Maybe she would have survived."

Suddenly Adam found his hand curling around the knife handle that had dug itself into the Angel and time freezes. It is only them, she stares up at him, unfrozen but undying. The man wished for pain, so he has it. Adam is forced to stay in this moment of almost death. Watching the woman's breathing stagger, shudder, and wheeze. He gets to watch the pain in her eyes but the light never leaving. Adam is forced to sit here and live in the moment of losing Lute but never getting the conclusion of her death.

"My judgment has been made, the crime of your sin shall be met with a fitting punishment."

It is clear to Adam the choices he is given. Stay in this moment for eternity or plunge the dagger deeper within his Lieutenant and relieve the both of them of this pain.

The explosion of light at the conclusion of his caterwauling was very nearly what it should have been all along. Not a weapon of mass destruction fashioned out of a soul- but simply a device used to channel and amplify music. Music was every angel's way of expressing emotions too far embedded within one's self to show willingly after all. But with the burst of light came a sudden darkness soon after. One that swallowed the surroundings even as he stood far away from the source that had swallowed the others. There was always a snake in Eden- and it was ever hungry. Even now. Especially now.

This scene doesn't surprise him. He watches it on repeat enough in his shards to not feel the slightest bit jarred once his vision returns to him- ever blurry and with no ability to blink to help clear up what he's witnessing. Though it's not like he wants to. Not that he wants to hear what he's been charged with either, because deep down he already knows. Being a loud, insufferable fuck is just the band-aid he's used this whole time to ignore it, but eventually an ever-bleeding wound saturates through the bandage and begins to stink and fester. And fester it has, but he has no way of covering it up now, forced into a shivering slump over someone he saw too many times on replay, and yet never tired of knowing she was there at some point...existing beyond what his memories could conjure. If anything upset him more than the reruns of her death, it was that he had such a difficult time recalling anything she was beyond that moment. But sometimes when he was still, sequestered off in the blinding, white room of a holding cell that he almost preferred to the social 'pen' that Mic conjured up for the lot of them, he could recall the way her sharp eyes would glint and how she'd tut almost fondly over his insistence in what condiments actually belonged on hotdogs.

He'd protest if he could- tell the big bastard that it was funny he insisted that he was no longer relevant to the plot when it was he that was the most devote of the harbingers when it came to bringing the blown out candle of realization to other cycles that they weren't special no matter how much they fought against the inevitability of dour acceptance. But considering he's here now- 'helping' out a cause he'd sooner scoff about than take seriously if it weren't for the memory of his lieutenant caught in a painful grip that transferred hints of its agony to her, the point is surely past its expiration date. Almost as much as she was despite how fresh she looked cradled in the tremble of his arms. 

Her smile is a knife to the gut, but he can't double over more than he already is- frozen in place, golden eyes glazed over as he considers the context within hers. This is the only time he's thought she's awfully attractive. Awfully fucked up as it is. Almost like he was doomed to never notice until she's moments from being gone forever. The delivered conclusion haunts him as he considers the slope of her expression, lips trembling against the force that keeps him sealed there. Warm salt slides down and passes  the threshold of his lips, but he can't lick it away. It drips on her face face- one drop, and then another. If he had just taken the mission seriously- maybe then she would be the one despairing over his smile. The council wouldn't have made it easier for either of them, but at least they would have weathered that storm together.

Not like this... 

Hand involuntarily curled about an angelic weapon driven in deep, he pauses, feeling the sensation of free choice flooding back into his wrist. He doesn't want it now- craves the casual acceptance of whatever came outside of Eden. A shaky breath in and a few more lost tears break as he squeezes his eyes closed and bares his teeth as if he can forget that face burned into his memory so harshly that it repeats on every reflective piece of him he loses along the journey of staying put together. Everyone must stand alone, after all. He just thought it would be different between the two ribs he was missing- the second cradled in his arms while his talons flexed unhappily on the dagger's edge. 

There's no telling how long he's there- this realm where time passes thousands of years in the blink of an eye in real time. He watches- as he always has, the raw details of her pain that lingers and never fades no mater how many times he's witnessed the conclusion. "...no end, and no beginning-" The man murmurs, voice cracking as he relays quiet bits of the pesky song to her perpetually fading existence. "You're here with me...it's like a-...dream." Squeezing the handle, he traces the blurred edges of her gaze with his until he seals off the view with a harsh shuttering of eyelids as if he could keep that last second of a smile ghosting the edge of her lips and stay within it forever. "...everyone must stand alone." After several lifetimes in one instance and a few seconds in the other, he drives the dagger upwards through the rest of her back and into his chest- pinning them together to bleed out together.

It feels like ... home.

[sparkysxi]

Signora's Coffin is from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor

here you guys go, the glorious harbinger crackfic that I've been sitting on since winter nights lazzo came out and haven't posted.

ao3 link (see for tags): https://archiveofourown.org/works/49167907

word count: 3k

Summary: Childe has the worst day of his life on a field trip to Wangsheng Funeral parlor with the rest of the Harbingers.

Childe wasn’t entirely sure how’d the others would react to…this. 

He could only stare at the remains of the fallen Signora and the packaging that they had been stuffed in by Tenshukaku. It was a long boat ride home, but the Tsaritsa wanted her beloved Signora returned home for a proper burial, and since there hadn’t been much in terms of leads on Scaramouche-the bastard-he could be dispatched to escort a fellow warrior to her final resting place. Of all the other Harbingers, he at least considered Signora to be loyal to the Tsaritsa alone as well. 

What a mess. 

~~

His attendants tried desperately to convince him to at least place her in an urn to present to Pierro, but Childe knew that Pierro would want to see the sorry state of…this. He carried her within his hand, trying to quell the bloodlust within him. How dare-well, the Shogun was a goddess, perhaps this is just what she thought. But the Fatui deserved to know of slights and insults against them to retaliate accordingly. 

Childe knocked on the door to Pierro’s office. A small woman, Pierro’s secretary of sorts, opened the door, and let him in. 

“I’ve got her.” 

Pierro turned from the chessboard he had been staring at, and Childe recognized Zhongli’s-no, Morax’s-gnosis, as well as one that must’ve been Barbatos’. It was awfully garish compared to Morax’s. 

He turned his attention back to Pierro, trying to keep his calm in the face of his leader, and held out the cloth bag, basically scrap fabric hastily stitched together, with a small tag on it, reading “Talk shit get obliterated -Ei”. 

Pierro’s eyes narrowed. “How dare that pompous little bitch!” He roared, taking the bag. “Look at this!” He turned to Childe, “Did you order a counter attack?” 

“I’d rather not be in a second bag, sir.” 

Pierro seemingly growled at him, causing Childe’s anxiety to spike. Pierro took a deep breath, calming himself. He muttered something under his breath in a language long forgotten, then looked at Childe again. “You did the right thing, to show me the transgression. Our forces in Inazuma have been considerably weakened with the loss of their Harbinger and the resolution of the Inazuman conflict.”

Childe nodded, keeping his eyes steadily on Pierro, who gently set the bag down and ripped away the offending tag and threw it into the fire. “Aleksandra,” he called to his secretary. She came over, and took the bag. “Please find her a suitable place somewhere while we procure a far more respectful…final place.” 

Aleksandra nodded and disappeared. Pierro looked to Childe. “Come, Tartaglia. We must gather the Harbingers.” 

~~

Looking over a side of the ship they were on, Liyue Harbor in the distance, Childe had to remind himself that coming here was his idea, somehow.

Pierro had asked where they could get the best coffins possible in Teyvat, and well, Childe had but one recommendation. 

And thus began what Arlecchino had insisted on calling “Operation Giftbox”. Not the worst name for an op, especially by Arlecchino standards (including such hits as Operation Super Awesome Cool Murder and Operation Ruin Your Fuckin Day, Bitch). The boat docked with a small jolt, and Childe descended the stairs to the lower decks to check on the others.  

As he had been the only Harbinger in Liyue mostly, he didn’t have to worry about disguising himself (wasn’t his style anyway), but Pulcinella had mentioned how weird it would be if all nine remaining Harbingers showed up in Liyue Harbor (and would likely be taken rather badly by locals). 

So disguises for everyone else, which seemed to include a number of overly unnecessary items, large pairs of sunglasses, face masks, and rather gaudy vacation clothing. 

“Stick to the story,” Pantalone said, pulling on a pair of white gloves and a gauzy shawl, “We’re merely merchants from Snezhnaya procuring a little something for a high-profile client. It’s close enough to the truth that even you might remember it,” He finished that last sentence with a condescending chuckle. 

“Funny,” Childe said dryly, before wincing at Capitano’s look. He had opted for the full tourist: obnoxiously patterned shirt and khakis. 

“What?” Capitano asked, pulling his hair up to tuck underneath the large wide-brimmed hat he wore, that Childe could not figure out for the life of him  where he had procured. 

“We’re supposed to blend in,” Childe said dryly. 

“And? Am I not allowed to sightsee? I’ve been in Natlan and Mondstadt for so long, I want to travel farther!” Capitano whined a little. 

Childe opened his mouth to speak, but Pierro placed a hand on his shoulder. “Just try not to draw attention any further than you have to,” he said. Childe nodded, before his eyes bulged out of his head at Pierro’s look, with long pants, and short sleeved coat over a plain shirt, and a fanny pack clearly full of supplies at his hips. 

“Do I have to leave him?” Sandrone whined as her robot butler gently set her in her wheelchair, making sad little beeps about leaving his mistress behind. Thankfully Sandrone had enough sense to wear a simple light sundress, but had a Kamera slung around her neck. 

“He’s far too large to fit anywhere in Liyue,” Pierro said, “He’ll have to stay on the boat.” 

Dottore sighed dramatically, “If only you’d have-“

“Keep your filthy fudging hands off of my machines,” Sandrone hissed. 

Childe suddenly realized why they didn’t meet up all that often. 

They were escorted off the boat and taken up to the main harbor from the docks, where the attendant bowed and left. Childe looked around, and noticed a few Milelith officers standing nearby, trying to look inconspicuous. One accidentally made eye contact with him. He smirked and waved as they snapped their eyes away, blushing. 

He chuckled and turned to the others, who were all staring at him intently. 

“Are you going to flirt all day, or take us to this Wangsheng Funeral place?” Columbina asked. 

“Oh!” Childe pretended to not suddenly realize that they were waiting on him to take the lead, “We’ll get there soon enough, it’s not far! I just thought you needed a minute to do…whatever.” He waved his hand dismissively. Good save, Childe. “But if you insist,” he sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets and turning. “We can get going.” 

The walk to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor was one Childe knew well, and it took just a few minutes maybe, but this time it felt like it took a lifetime with the way that people were staring at him and his odd companions. He supposed he couldn’t blame them, outlanders regardless of clothing usually got stared at, but this was so much worse. He almost felt as though he could die from embarrassment in the street, and it took all of his training and will to keep his face a perfect mask of cheerful indifference. 

He expected a nice little bonus for this. He wasn’t going to get one, but it would be really nice. 

“What interesting architecture,” Dottore commented, looking at the crossing walkways that led to the second story of the city, “They’re far more vertically inclined than horizontal, must have something to do with the influence of the mountains nearby.” 

“It’s cramped,” Arlecchino said. “That’s what you’re saying.” They did look rather uncomfortable, after all. Even in the fairly wide street. 

“It’s not cramped,” Pantalone said. “Here at least. Horizontal land purchases are far more expensive here,” he said more to himself than anyone else. “As the city has been developed for a thousand years, now they find it easier to expand up than out.” If his eyes were open, they would’ve been glittering. “Air rights should be fairly cheap….bank could loan…yes yes,” he smiled dangerously. 

Childe felt pretty glad that his main driving force in life was battle, not money. 

Eventually they managed to get to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, tucked in the back in the northern half of the city. “Here it is,” Childe said. 

“Awfully quiet place here,” Pulcinella said. “Is there anyone inside?” 

Childe shrugged, and opened the door anyway. The lights were barely on, and slowly the Harbingers filed inside, looking around-canvassing for threats. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor may not conduct certain unsavory business anymore, but it didn’t do anything to discourage rumors, and certainly didn’t decorate in a far more comforting way. 

Childe stepped closer to the counter. No one was hiding behind it, and nothing within the side office where Zhongli usually was, and the hallway behind the counter was dark. “Hello?” He called, looking around. 

No response. 

“Odd,” Pierro commented. He came up next to Childe, and scanned the little sign saying “Be back in a few!” With a small ghost waving. Childe recognized it as Hu Tao’s, the current and 77th Director of the Parlor, handwriting. “They appear to be on some sort of break.”

“Great,” Capitano flopped his body onto a nearby couch after parking Sandrone next to it. The couch creaked a little under his weight, and Childe really hoped that it wouldn’t snap and break like that one unfortunate stool in Snezhnaya’s favorite bar, the Polar Bear. 

“Now what do we do?” Columbina asked, tilting her head in curiosity. “Will they get back soon?” 

Childe snorted a laugh. “If Mr. Zhongli is out with the Director, definitely not.” 

“Ah, yes, the same Mr. Zhongli you’ve been sugar daddying for recently?” Pantalone asked as he gracefully sat in a chair. 

Everyone’s heads snapped towards Childe. He felt his neck get hot, and his face was flushing. He looked off to the side, laughing nervously. “Y-you can’t prove that.” 

“Your bank accounts are under the Northland Bank, which is, as you may remember, my department,” Pantalone smiled in a saccharine sweet way. “So, knowing this, when you started spending in excess on a consistent basis, I inquired about the unusual charges. Turns out, this Mr. Zhongli has a most discerning eye for sparkly and shiny things, and you’ve been providing. You’ve also taken him to several dinners. It’s all in the account records. There’s a copy in the bank here, I can show you the ledger if-“

“Nope, not necessary, I get it,” Childe said, waving him off. He could only keep his face down, unable to look from the floor at the gossip-hungry looks of his coworkers. 

“Childe, you should be far more careful about these things! My goodness, are you at least using protection?” Pulcinella asked. 

If he had been drinking, Childe would’ve spit it out. “What?!” He snapped his head up, his eyes wide. 

“You know I support you regardless of your preferences, but you still have to take precautions with escorts, male or female!” Pulcinella insisted. Several of the others nodded in agreement. 

“Woah woah woah!” Childe put his hands up in defense. “I think there’s been a mistake or some sort of miscommunication here-“

“What’s been miscommunicated?” Columbina asked, “Sounds pretty straightforward to me.” 

“Psst!” Capitano pretended to whisper across the room, “I don’t think he knows this Mr. Zhongli is an escort!” He lifted a hand to pretend to block Childe’s view from the finger he had pointed in the ginger’s direction, despite the fact that Columbina was quite literally next to Childe. 

“Oh!” Columbina gasped. She turned to Childe, “Oh you poor thing…”

“I knew I should’ve talked to you before you left about these things,” Pulcinella lamented. “Now look what I’ve done!” 

“Guys! Guys!” Childe waved his hands wildly, “Mr. Zhongli isn’t an escort!” 

Capitano’s body slumped. “He doesn’t even know,” he threw an arm up in defeat. 

“Tartaglia,” Pierro began, “An escort is-“

“I know what an escort is!” Childe cried. “Mr. Zhongli is a fucking consultant for this place!” He pointed to the office behind him. “That’s his office! He works here! Does this,” he spread his arms and gestured wildly, “look like the kind of place that an escort would work?!” 

Everyone got very silent for a moment. 

“So he’s a conman,” Arlecchino said. 

“Have you gotten anything out of the relationship?” Dottore asked, “Specifically asking, have you had sex with him?” 

“No!” Childe cried again, this time in exasperation. “He’s not a conman, and it’s not any of your business if I’ve had sex with him! He’s just a good friend!” 

Sandrone spoke up, “Have you fought him in combat?” 

It was Childe’s turn to fall silent. He never did get to spar with Zhongli, now that he thought of it. 

“Oh honey,” Columbina said, placing her hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been scammed.” 

“I didn’t get scammed,” Childe said, a little gruffly. “I just…he helped me with the mission I had here and taught me a lot…It didn’t matter to me what he wanted to buy, he always forgot his wallet anyway.” 

He wouldn’t convince any of them, it was pretty clear to him. Columbina rubbed his arm comfortingly, and it was probably the most normal thing she’s ever done. 

They were all quiet for a bit, and Pantalone had enough sense to look a little sheepish about the mess he had caused. 

Childe sank to sit on the floor, the rest of the chairs and couches in the waiting room taken up by the others. Pierro continued to lean against the desk, looking to his watch. Dottore had found a magazine, and had taken a pen and was likely labeling all the parts of the model in the spread that he would “upgrade” and did a mini vivisection on one photo to be really thorough. Capitano had leaned his head against the wall, likely taking a brief nap. Arlecchino had balled themself up and was scratching at the threads on the couch arm. Sandrone had found a book on new embalming techniques and was busy speeding through it, while Pulcinella had found a magazine on coffin styles, and was actually bothering to do the task they had come here for. 

The door opened after maybe thirty minutes, and the Harbingers all jumped as the fading daylight flooded the dim parlor. “Aiya! Were you all waiting long?” A familiar voice rang through the waiting room. Childe rose to his feet and Miss Hu Tao stood in the doorway with a bag of food from Wanmin Restaurant. Behind her was the imposing and elegant presence of Mr. Zhongli, also holding a Wanmin bag and a drink carrier with take out cups from Third-Round Knockout, a tavern Childe remembered with much irritation. Zhongli had managed to drink him under the table, a competition that Childe had thought, as a Snezhnayan native, he would’ve been a clear and obvious winner (he hadn’t been the only one, as many a grumbling gambler had had to hand over bags of mora to Zhongli, who looked far too smug when Childe was drunk.) 

“Childe,” Zhongli said, hiding the surprise in his voice. “I didn’t realize you were in town.” 

Childe was quiet for a few moments before Columbina kicked him gently. “Oh-oh yeah, I’m just escorting these guys,” he gestured, “They’re looking to procure a coffin for a high-profile client. I’m just the muscle,” he gave a signature grin. 

“I hope it wasn’t your muscle that caused the need for our services,” Zhongli smirked, a joking lit to his voice as he walked to his office and set the food down. “Forgive me, we are technically on dinner break.”

“Oh please,” Hu Tao piped up. “Business is business, any time of day! And anything for your little boyfriend’s pals, hehe,” she teased, placing her food behind the counter. 

Pantalone looked far too smug as Zhongli had a faint blush come to his cheeks. “Forgive her, she thinks that joke is funny.” 

“Oh we don’t mind,” Arlecchino said, “We find it amusing too.” 

Hu Tao flashed them a grin. “So are we just looking for a coffin, or would you like to engage in our funerary services as well today?”

Pierro straightened up, and gave her a small smile, “Oh no, the client’s family has insisted on doing all of the funeral planning themselves. They’ve merely contacted our firm in procurement of a coffin, that’s all the contract states.” 

“Well, we’re certainly capable of working within the confines of a contract,” Zhongli said, passing off one of the take-out cups to Hu Tao, who nodded in assent. 

“We should start with materials,” Hu Tao said, using her vision to light the lamps that led down the hallway, briefly disappearing into a room before returning with a slab, with various woods samples attached on, “I think the fir ones are lovely, personally, but sandalwood and maple are very popular this season-“ 

“Wood won’t do,” Pierro said. 

Hu Tao tilted her head. 

“In Snezhnaya, it’s far too cold for wood coffins. Far too cold to bury them, the ground is frozen solid,” Pierro continued. “Woods often splinter and break. Most Snezhnayan coffins are made of stone and lay on top of the floor in a mausoleum.” 

Hu Tao only nodded, “I didn’t realize! My apologies,” she placed the sample board on the ground. “We can do stone, however they are all custom orders, which will take longer. Thankfully,” she looked to Zhongli, “We have a rock expert on our hands.” 

A sort of look was exchanged between the disguised Harbingers and it took Childe everything he had left from this exhausting day to not roll his eyes. Not professional at all. 

Zhongli coughed. “I’m nothing to gawk at, but I do know a fair amount, as Mr. Childe can attest to. But is there something specific we had in mind? Sizing is going to be integral to-“

Pierro slapped a piece of paper down, drawn from his fanny pack. “This is it. All the material guides, design, and dimensions.” 

Zhongli took the paper, blinking a little, giving a slight judgemental side eye before looking it over. “And who is in charge of budget?” 

Pantalone raised his hand far too quickly. “We have no budget. I’ve been given permission to use whatever funds necessary to get the project done.”

Hu Tao and Zhongli looked to one another, mora signs in their eyes. 

Yep, they were going to get scammed. 

[sloshed-cinema]

Godzilla vs King Ghidorah [ゴジラvsキングギドラ] (1991)

Is it truly a ripoff if the scenes that are blatantly torn from other movies are some of the funniest shit I’ve ever seen? Buried deep within this gently absurd entry into the otherwise serious Heisei journey is a clip reel of all of Hollywood’s greatest hits circa the late 1980s and early 90s. Terminator? You got it, as villainous turned suddenly heroic android M11 escapes a burning car and sprints at superhuman speed to catch our heroes, equal parts T-11 and Ash from Alien (though his physique is more in that latter category, to be sure). Mustache-twiddling corpo-villains control the levers of power from the shadows. And our himbo hero says “Go on… make my day” as he shoots a thing on the UFO. This is pop culture fed through a pipeline of cable TV shows and imprinted upon impressionable minds. This is the stuff of Turbo Kid or maybe Psycho Goreman, earnest pulp homage made from a loving place, though this is more contemporaneous. All the same, I couldn’t classify this in good faith as an Asylum type film by any stretch. It simply cares too much. To that end, I also have to shout out the commitment to making a bunch of artificially inserted cute marketable creatures for the express purpose of making them the primary antagonist.

But the roots of Godzilla, no matter how goofy the outcome, have always been in existential horror and trauma. In its more serious veins, this film attempts to reconcile with the burgeoning economic successes of a Japan venturing into the 21st century. A figure who survived the initial incarnation of this avatar of destruction has gone on to become a corporate mogul and the harbinger of his own sort of terror as he owns nuclear weapons of his own. Godzilla was his savior in the Pacific Theatre, and becomes his executioner in the final moments, the two seeming to share a moment. Crucially, shockingly, King Ghidorah is briefly glimpsed destroying Hiroshima, the Atomic Bomb Dome visible in the foreground as these conquerors from the future seek to put Japan in her place. This is about resilience and defiance, uncertainty about how to move forward as a potential economic superpower.

Akira Ikufube’s score absolutely rips. Aside from the plodding, inevitable Godzilla theme, the opening sequences especially are rife with a dense and frenetic score. It has such interesting instrumentation compared to the usual reliable hits, opening on bass-register piano, timpani, and contrabassoon before being reinforced by a denser palette of woodwinds and pitched percussion than typical. Godzilla is evolving, and so are his harmonic sensibilities.

THE RULES

SIP

Someone says 'UFO' or 'dinosaur'.

A time jump occurs.

Close-up of the Dorats.

Time paradox shit.

BIG DRINK

Blatant, amazing, bizarre Hollywood reference.

DO YOU BLEED, GODZILLA?

Flawless early 90s computer graphics.

[xstarlightxstarbrightx]

thoughts on how the Inazuma Archon quest went [3]

OK, ACTUAL QUEST TIME NOW, I'M DOING IT I SWEAR [COLLEGE PREP IS ENDING MY LIFE]

Lumi: alright, we need to find a way to Inazuma. we've been in Liyue for a W H I L E, and i'm tired of waiting for some sign of needing to head out. Paimon: but isn't it like a closed nation? Kaeya: Atsuko's from Inazuma Lumi: Kaeya, ur a genius. Kaeya: I know~ Atsuko trying to DESPERATELY convince them to just give up on Inazuma should've been my first notion that Inazuma was going to make me rip my hair out, but no i figured it was just a story beat and that i wouldn't actually suffer!!!! no. no, it was real. suffering is real.

I also love Kazuha popping in like "you two give off the essence of wind and earth but also stars" and all i can imagine is he looks at Kaeya and goes "oh, the essence of snow and sorrow is here too". Kaeya: and this must be your bard-for-hire? Beidou: uh,,, no. Lumi: still snickering at "the essence of snow and sorrow"

Beidou: so u signing up for the Clash? Lumi: the fuck is the Clash? Beidou: Beidou: sigh and here i thought u came to sign up.

one long explanation later

Beidou: so, ya wanna win a Masterless Vision? Lumi: to be quite honest. no. i do not care. Kaeya: but we could go for a trip to Inazuma, hmmm? Lumi: ??? Beidou: done. Lumi: ... Kaeya: :) Lumi: u just wanna see me in a tournament, don't u Kaeya: what are u talking about, i'm trying to get us to Inazuma.

whenever they go to check out the competition, Lumi and Kaeya are thoroughly unimpressed, but Kaeya spends the whole time with a shit eating grin on his face. like he already figured it'd be an easy sweep b/c c'mon it's Lumi we're talking about here.

his shit eating grin only gets worse when Lumi signs up and everyone freaks out about her name.

Zhuhan: y-you know only people without a Vision can enter.... Lumi: yeah i don't got one of those. he does, but he's not joining in. Kaeya: i'm here for moral support <3 Paimon: SO IS PAIMON

Zhuhan: what other, uh... qualifactions do you have...? Lumi: uh... I'm an Honorary Knight of the Knights of Favonius? Paimon: she also beat up Childe and also helped save Dvalin after beating him up! Kaeya: that is a Fatui Harbinger and an Elemental Dragon, respectively Zhuhan: intense sweating i-i think that's plenty....

Kaeya and Paimon take bets the whole time on how quickly each opponent flops. Turns out they're both gamblers at heart, but inevitably Kaeya won the most Mora out of her (much to Paimon's dismay). ALSO??? I adore how Kazuha's like "I did notice u withholding strength so as to not harm ur opponent", which is so spicy and good and tasty and i will eat Strong Bad Bitch Lumine any day of the week and still hunger for more.

I do find it interesting that Lumine very clearly is unused to not using elements—something I've pondered a bit about, since she technically had some kind of "element" before she began to borrow the elements of Teyvat. I, for one, am obsessed with this theory and have done some fun deep dives into the animation frames of her and Aether using elemental abilities (i mentioned this before). I wanted to mention this thought because I have a personal h/c and kind-of theory about elements and their dangers, especially to people who are not protected by Visions. Because I do believe certain elements are dangerous.

Also I should doubly clarify that when we get to Inazuma the actual bit, things are gonna be a little different I suppose? I won't be following my original way of doing this, b/c I ,,, really couldn't connect (and personally didn't like) the Inazuma Archon quest, so I'm going to be tweaking it and modifying it to my own needs.

Canon is a white board and I'm scribbling all over it, ok.

ALSO, noting the elemental thing; I find it interesting how Kazuha describes Lumine's ability to utilize multiple elements as "the echoes of nature". Like he just hears the sounds of nature coming from her, and how her scent is complex and strange??? I am beyond fascinated by it, and I REALLY,,, REALLY need to dig into that kinda thing (but i already have 17 different rabbit holes i'm falling down PLUS school is starting tmrw)

Anyway, see u in the next one, where we WILL be in Inazuma (AND WE GET TO SEE THOMA, THOMA IS REALLY SILLY B/C KAEYA'S THERE LMAO)

[fatuismooches]

As promised! Here’s a little Drabble I thought of before going to bed:

What if one day fragile reader were to witness one of Dottore’s, fits of anger? They were only out for their small walk like daily, as it helps circulate blood in their body and makes them feel better that they at least can have some peace of mind without being stuck to their bed. And like usual, they’re hugging the wall trying to balance themselves as their weak body can be quite clumsy, as shown throughout the years where they’ve tried to help the clones or even Zandik but it’s always futile. Especially since on more than one occasion they’ve ended up hurting themselves due to the thing they’re holding shattering or cutting themselves accidentally.

Of course it always leaves them with a heavy heart since what good of a lover/companion are they for Dottore and the clones? They always wish they were stronger and better like before, but it’s of no use.

But as they continue their small walk, they’re reminded of how earlier that day Zandik had come visited them and check their vitals, and give them their medicine. Although it was usually always the clones doing these small things, so why was Zandik doing it all of a sudden? It had already raised their suspicions when he was the one doing it. But what raised more concern was how Dottore seemed more…agitated? Of course he tried his best to hide it from his usual serious and expressionless demeanor, but after centuries of being together they could easily tell whenever their husband was in a bad mood. But they didn’t want to upset him any more, so they didn’t ask.

Yet, while they’re on their walk through the hallways of the ginormous lab, they walk past Dottore’s personal lab, until suddenly they hear crashing sounds. Quickly alarming them and concerning them, they turn back and walk up to the door. (Although clumsily) Hesitantly grabbing the handle, they slowly open the door and see many vials of unknown liquids and scattered papers, which seem to have been ripped from a notebook? It concerns them as they’ve never seen Zandik like this. In all the years they’ve known each other, never would they expect to see their husband standing in front of his desk, slightly panting and taking deep breaths. It instilled somewhat fear into them as sure they know Zandik is feared and powerful, but to see a small portion of anger from him makes them want to quietly close the door.

But of course, before they even have the chance, Dottore turns and sees their lover. Their frail frame at the entrance of his lab, slightly shaking from what seems like, fear? His own lover fearing him? No, that can’t be. He promised to cure them, to protect them from the cruel world that is Teyvat. And yet he’s failed to even do anything. He’s only been able to accomplish things for himself, like becoming the 2nd Fatui Harbinger, but his lover? He can’t even fulfill the one promise he made..

And yet, their soft voice breaks his train of thoughts as they say his name, “Zandik…” they can barely mutter under their shaky breath as they look up at him. Zandik sighs as he takes off his mask and rubs his temple. How does even explain such an event to them? He’s obviously scared them, and yet they still stand there with concern laced in their eyes. He walks up to them with calculated steps and gently moves them so he can lock the door, before gently picking up their body. “Why are you walking all the way here? My laboratory is too far away from your room.” He says with a cold tone, but you know that he only has concern for you. To which you let out a sigh, “I’m sorry…” you say almost timidly as you turn your face away to not directly him. But with one gloved hand, Dottore gently pets your head, not speaking another word.

It’s silent for a few minutes, just the two of you close together, enjoying the silence of the laboratory, despite the occasional humming or beeping from machines. Until you finally break said silence, “Zandik, what happened…? Your laboratory is a mess…” you say with a concerned voice as you look up at your husband, but Dottore can’t help but look away as he stays silent for a while. Trying to figure out what to even tell you.

Eventually, he does speak up, but it’s not many words. His tone less cold than before, “I simply lost myself to anger, I apologize you had to see that side of me.”

Although his words still came out a bit cold, you knew that deep down he was actually sorry. Especially by the way he’s holding you so firmly yet gentle says otherwise. You softly smile before gently reaching up one of your soft hands to his scarred face, “Do these happen often…? Is it because of me…?” You say with a worried tone as you start to feel a mix of emotions, but Dottore is quick to speak, “Do not blame yourself, you aren’t worth such degrading words. I don’t wish to hear those things come out of your mouth ever. Do you understand?” Dottore says sternly as he looks at you, to which you nod as you gently place your head on his chest, hearing the soft beat of his heartbeat. It almost wants to make you fall asleep, but you’re in the middle of a serious conversation!

As you’re thinking, suddenly Dottore’s voice breaks you out of it. “I’ll take you back to your bedroom, you need rest. Especially due to the medication running in your body making you more vulnerable and exhausted.” He says with astern expression, but you can’t help but nuzzle yourself into his chest, before speaking up. “No, let me stay, please…you worry me too Zandik. Just a small break.” You say as you then look up at him, to which he lets out a groan and mumble of “what an inconvenience”, but you know he’s rather happy if the tiny bit of blush laced on his cheeks says otherwise.

Dottore carries you over to his desk, sitting down and letting you rest on his chest as you sit on his lap. Eventually dozing off from the small workout of even walking exhausting you so quickly. As you sleep, he lets out a deep sigh as he looks over all the scattered papers and broken vials on his desk and floor. It angers him how after centuries of trying to find a damn cure still seems unreachable. How you continue to remain weak and frail, and dependent on others. Compared to before where you would run around all happy and force him to accompany you to some place in Sumeru.

It’s what angers Zandik most. Seeing you continue to lie in bed, having to even be hooked up to many machines whenever your body becomes unstable. He’s the failure, he never wants you to blame yourself. Because how can you when you have never been at fault? He is the sinner here, not you.

So in the meantime, Zandik holds you firmly in his arms. Deep down he knows you may truly die, but he wont allow it. No, you will never leave his side. No matter what.

:3

I’m sorry this is so long I was listening to some Laufey songs :c and honestly I just couldn’t help but write in sorry smooches! Anyways I hope you enjoy this tiny Drabble and do with it as you will! Sorry if it got a little angsty the end I’m just a sucker for fluff with tiny bit of angst. But I hope you’re doing amazing and doing lovely!! I luv u mwa mwa big kissie!!! Im sorry if this is messy it’s like 11 PM while I’m writing this and it took like 30-40 mins to write but it’s okie ;3 drink lots n lots of water sweetie I lub lub u!!! (AND IM SORRY IF READER IS SEEN AS DAINTY ;; i cant help it)

From your dear little boo boo 🎐 anon! (ㆀ˘･з･˘)

🎐 ANON WOKE UP AND CHOSE VIOLENCE TODAY??? I HAD TO PUT MY PHONE DOWN EVERY FEW SENTENCES CUZ I WAS SCREAMIN AHHHHH

You have known Zandik for a very, very long time. The day when he first became a Harbinger seemed like an eternity ago, the days of the Akademiya even further away. Being with anyone for such a long time would cause you to know them in and out, and you liked to think that you knew Zandik quite well.

Key word: think. One day would would learn that you didn’t.

Even before you got sick, you always liked to walk. Except then you were taking in the lovely breeze and air of Sumeru instead of the mono-colored walls of the lab. Laying down all day made your numb legs itch for some kind of movement, even if it made you tired, so you persevered nonetheless. Though as the days went by you couldn’t help but feel worse at your useless state that served as only a burden to everyone else.

The recent appearances of your lover only served to further your worries. What’s more, he did not seem to be his usual, cocky, smirking self. Did he have something to tell you? Did he give up? Found out there’s no cure? Found out something worse about your illness? You were worried, and you could see by the expressions of the clones you weren’t the only one who knew something was up.

(You wanted to tell him that even if he couldn’t cure you, you’d never be mad at him. His efforts that spanned over countless years mean the most to you. You may have to keep living the same fragile life until you lay on your deathbed, but you could say with confidence that he had made you happy. But you knew he’d get upset at you. Scold you for having such thoughts and then restate his declaration of curing you.)

Your thoughts were confirmed one day when a loud crash scared the living daylights out of you. Loud noises were not very good for you or your heart, so although you were tempted to ignore it, you quickly realized that it had came from Zandik’s lab. You’re a bit nervous about peering into his lab - even the clones aren’t allowed in there without his permission - but something compels you to check on him.

Beyond the door was a complete mess. It wasn’t the organized Dottore-kind of mess that you were used to, but rather a sort of enraged and planned mess. His notes and papers were stained by whatever liquid had fallen with it, so you knew instantly that he had done it on purpose, as he always kept his research material pristinely intact.

You had never, ever, seen Zandik like this. Irritation? Check. Annoyance? Check. Cockiness? Check. Hell, you’ve even see happiness. But this? Never. Not the balled fists and gritted teeth. It almost makes you dizzy, hits you straight in your heart, quickens your breath, and makes your throat dry. You want to slip away quietly but it’s already too late because Zandik has locked eyes with you. You can’t read his expression, but you know he’s not mad at you. He never is. And as much as you wanted to reassure him that this wasn’t what it looked like, no words can come out besides his name. When he picks you up in his arms, you can’t help but cozy up in them unconsciously. They always felt better than your bed.

Zandik often speaks coldly to hide his emotions. Whether it was excitement or concern or curiosity, you knew what he actually meant. But this time you can’t bring yourself to tease him, merely looking away to which he turns your chin right back to him. You always thought Zandik’s face was beautiful. Red eyes that seemed to pool endlessly. The sight of it has you calming down but the urge to question him rises in you.

Anger. Anger, anger, anger. Dottore had always been ahead of anyone. He never had a reason to be angry. No one could get a leg up on him. (Except this illness, you realize. That he had been taking this on much more than you initially thought. You clearly weren’t the only one suffering. And that hurts you. But he is adamant about his command to you. He does not want to hear you or anyone else ever speak ill of you. You are the sole person who is worthy to stand with him. No one else.) 

When you fall asleep, Zandik can’t help but put his pen down and look at you for a bit. Many, many years ago, you’d be collapsed on top of him from running about and dragging him around the place. But now you are sleeping from a mere walk. When, he asks himself. When can he have you back? See you wield your weapon flawlessly again, indulge in those hobbies of your? Become his dedicated assistant again and have you throw yourself at him shamelessly?

Celestia be damned. No one is taking you from his grasp.

No matter what has to be done. His sins can never be forgiven, so what’s some more? 

OMG… WHY WAS THIS BRAINROT LITERALLY TOP TIER… I LOVEEEEE FLUFF WITH PINCH OF ANGST TOO 🎐 ANON 😭 Nothing better than feeling sad but then being comforted by your fav… Anyway I LOVE THIS?? YOURE LITERALLY AN AMAZING WRITER I CANT. I feel like fragile!reader would be at a loss as well because they can’t exactly comfort him as best as they could when they were healthy. I mean, there’s not too much they can do without getting tired. And the worst part is that Dottore knows this too because he remembers how as students you would go out of his way to comfort him when he was annoyed or to make him crack a smile. Dottore being cold and stern af but you know thats just how he speaks and you arent hurt by it 😭And the way he shuts down your self doubt and worry in 1 second??? I love the way you wrote his dialogue omfg. And let me just throw some clone fluff in here too? That crash was def loud enough for at least one of them to hear it so they probably got the gist of what happened so they’re more intent on treating you like royalty for the next few days 😭 you are NOT dying on their watch 🙏

[tigger8900]

New Who Rewatch: S1E1 - Rose

So, I originally intended to do this back before the 13th Doctor, but I couldn't get my shit together. Such is life. Then I thought I'd do it before the 60th Anniversary Specials, but again, did not have my shit together. But then I thought, it's never going to happen if I don't just do it, regardless of where my shit is or what it's doing. So this is happening.

I'm gonna be starting from 2005, y'all. Some of these episodes I've seen several times. Some I've only seen a couple times. And a few(more in later seasons) I've only seen once before. It'll be interesting to revisit those in particular, thinking about why I avoided them when picking out episodes to watch. I'll be ranking things as I go. Who knows, life might even allow me to get all the way through to the present! Assume that there are unmarked spoilers through the episode being discussed.

S1E1: Rose

Overall Ranking: 1/1

Series 1 Ranking: 1/1

I've never been mad at Rose. Is it my favorite? No. Do I dislike it? Again no, not even when thinking about the CGI effects. I think it's a great premiere for the reboot, but taking the episode on its own merits it's pretty solidly middle of the pack for me. I expect it to shake out somewhere in the upper middle of the rankings. Though the Ninth Doctor is incredible, Rose is not my favorite companion, so that probably factors into it as well.

Thoughts on the episode:

I really like the framing of the Doctor as being someone dangerous. I'd forgotten about that. He comes in when a big disaster happens, and we know that usually he stops it from being even worse, but from the human perspective he's the harbinger!

The Mickey vs bin CGI is not good. Oi.

Christopher Eccleston is so good in this role. As much as I tend to like the episode content that Russell T. Davies puts out, the fact that Eccleston has spoken out about his negative experiences working with RTD(among others) gives me complicated feelings about RTD being back as a showrunner.

Jackie Tyler is so unlikable at the start, even viewed through the context of her being a single mom doing her best. What she has going for her is the fact that she loves Rose very much and wants what's best for her daughter. What she has going against her is pretty much everything else. She's a great character, especially later in her arc, but I'd hate to have to be around her as she appears in this episode.

RIP Clive.

I love that, after literally five minutes of living plastic-induced mayhem, the street is full of fire. It's so ridiculous and over the top.

The chain swing is a really good character moment for Rose. She might not be set up for success by the metrics society typically uses(no A-levels, no job), but she's brave and capable. That's the part of her character that I like.

...but she treats Mickey like shit! He's not a bad boyfriend, from what we see. They're being sweet together and having fun in the opening, and he shows up to help her out repeatedly. He's also right about a lot of things, including the fact that it's kinda sus to go meet some internet stranger at his house. But she's so inattentive that she doesn't even notice when he's been replaced by an Auton. Admittedly she also doesn't notice the Doctor trying to get her attention in the same scene, so this is more of a Rose issue than a Rose & Mickey issue, but that's messed up. And then at the end, when he's having a perfectly normal reaction to what he's just gone through, she just up and lol bye!~ Mickey deserved better.

[twentydaysofdrabbles]

Due to IRL things, I'll have to skip today's substantial chapter. But please accept some further headcanons of other characters in the series along with their relationship with/view of the main 3.

The Manager

Much like John Wick and the Harbinger, the Manager once stood against the High Table. She never made her way to the Elder, but accepted her position as Manager and caretaker of the City in exchange for her 'freedom'. It's not really freedom.

The Manager is a sadist at heart but prefers to be so vicariously. She won't get her hands physically dirty if she can afford it, but that's not to say she won't if she has to.

Enjoys the manipulation of relationships and connections. The only real friendship she has is with the Concierge, and even then it is an imbalanced relationship.

Drinks her tea with one sugar and a dash of milk. Refuses to drink coffee or alcohol.

Is a big-picture person - she sets the goals, the Concierge gets her to her goals. Not very good with the nitty gritty. Not involved with the day-to-day running of the Hotel either.

Fiercely protective of the Hotel and the City. Will burn the world to ensure that the Hotel and the City lives/thrives.

Is scheming all the time and will not hesitate to use people as pawns, including the Concierge. Perhaps especially the Concierge.

In contrast to what the Concierge thinks, Papyrus and Sans are right when they say the Manager will deny the Concierge nothing. They have served the Manager too well for too long and she is far too fond of them. If the Concierge asks for the truth, the Manager will reveal all.

Thinks Sans is an important player in the game and will ensure that his cooperation is secured - either by blackmail or by his connection with the Concierge. That being said, if he breaks the Concierge's heart, she will rip out his.

Knows that Papyrus is key to Sans' cooperation as well - he is to Sans as the Concierge is to her. That being said, she is wary of Papyrus' sharp eye and keen senses; keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Asgore

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions."

"Sacrifices must be made for the greater good."

A better peacetime leader than he is a wartime leader. Too merciful by half and not in a good way. He will spare those that should be killed and kill those that should be spared. Being told this multiple times, he sometimes compensates by going to the other end of the extreme and being too ruthless.

Relies heavily on Sans to tell him if someone is truly useful to him or not.

That being said, he is ambitious and will often strive for greater heights even if it's not reasonable.

He really wants a seat at that table not for himself, but to ensure that no one fucks with his Family. He doesn't realise that by putting his Family on the board, he's opening himself up to more maneuvering and plays from the rest of the High Table.

Is terrified of Frisk and he doesn't know why. It's because he was killed by Frisk in every run except this one.

Doesn't know what to make of the Manager or the Concierge. He thinks the Manager is hiding something and the Concierge is unsettling.

His advisors are Sans, Alphys, Undyne and Papyrus. Frisk was originally intended to become an advisor alongside them but Asgore veto-ed that decision real quick.

Really wants to get back together with Toriel again...maybe a bit too much.

Toriel

Can be cold and ruthless but only if one of her own is threatened.

Doesn't like it but she's very good at being a wartime leader. Able to make difficult decisions without blinking but will cry about them afterwards.

She understands that sometimes there is no right answer, but values the life of her men over the objective. Win the war, not the battle.

Was very scarred from her time as monarch and after losing Asriel and Chara so traumatically, she wants some time and space to recover before even thinking about returning to a leadership role.

Good friends with Sans but is very wary of him - she thinks he's very unpredictable and cannot read him. Doesn't know Papyrus very well but likes him well enough. Despises Alphys because of the whole kidnapping scenario. Thinks Undyne is a lot smarter than she appears but is blinded by her love for Alphys. Thinks that Asgore should have let go of their dead marriage already goddamn. Sees Frisk, rightfully, as a child soldier and wants to give them a better life.

Sees a kindred spirit in the Manager and likes her more than she should. In another life, they would have been good friends.

Respects the Concierge greatly, both in martial prowess and in tactical thinking. Is of the opinion that the Concierge is a bit mindless in their loyalty to the Manager and would like to see them leave the Manager's sphere of influence. Sees a bit of Frisk in them but wouldn't dare to mother the Concierge.

Frisk

Ran through far too many genocide runs and neutral runs for their own good. They had too much fun killing but then grew a conscience and went for a pacifist run.

They work best with a knife rather than with firearms.

When they Checked the Concierge, their flavour text box was empty. The Manager's flavour text box has her surface thoughts only. They are slightly intimidated by the LV and EXP on both the Concierge and Manager's stats but rationalises it by attributing it to their ages.

Sees a kindred spirit in the Concierge and would ideally like to spend more time with them. Is a little afraid that they will end up like the Concierge one day - soulless and seeking purpose in life.

Thinks the Manager is a snake and doesn't trust her as far as they can throw her. Respects her cunning and manipulative nature.

Wishes Toriel would treat them less like a child but knows where she is coming from, so they tolerate it.

Thinks Asgore is an idiot and better off if he weren't the monarch. Will back Toriel up if she wants to claim the throne again.

Likes Sans and Papyrus a lot. Despite Sans' cruel nature and bloodthirstiness, Sans has never outright lied to Frisk and they appreciate that. Papyrus is straightforward and blunt, again something that they find very refreshing. Likes the banter they share.

Doesn't mind Undyne but doesn't spend too much time with her. They get a creepy vibe from Alphys.