#OC Pieps

[somerandompizzatowersideblog]

@awakenthebeing hi hello i still heart the 🅱ie🅱oe and it's fambly very much

bonus doodle of piepoe flying away with their bow bc i cannot get that idea out my head

[multi-fandomdisaster]

does piep / anyone else know about the survivors?

what is the hive doing after taking over hatchetfield? do they just sing and dance all day? do they still need to eat etc?

any ocs or canon characters in the au you'd like to talk about? :D

Well, unfortunately PEIP has been canonically assimilated into the hive (which is a shame bc they would be SO MUCH FUN to play around with & ngl I've genuinely debated ignoring that and reviving MacNamara just to see what would happen, but that's a tangent for another time-), so I don't think they'd be much help. There...might be someone out there who knows about them, but I haven't really thought about it. I have this semblance of an idea about some people in Clivesdale hearing about survivors in Hatchetfield and offering to help, but the Hatchetfield people immediately refusing because fuck Clivesdale, but beyond that they're pretty much on their own. That being said, the survivor camp that Paul & Emma are a part of isn't the only one. There are other small survivor groups littered around Hatchetfield.

I mean, for the most part, yeah. The Hive just kinda vibes and does their own thing, assimilating people as they find them. They don't seem to have much of a goal beyond spreading globally. As for if they still need to eat and stuff, I'm gonna go with...probably? I mean, Paul himself sings in Inevitable the line "The Hive needs to feed!" so presumably they would indeed need to feed. Feed on what, I'm not sure. I'll leave that up to interpretation for now (until/unless I think of something lmao)

As for any characters I'd like to talk about? Well...I do have this fun little side story that completely ignores the fact that both characters are present in La De Da Da Day in favor of fun that follows the Homeless Man and Peter Spankoffski teaming up and somehow surviving the apocalypse together against all odds. It's super silly and fun and frankly needs a bit more development itself lol

[chaotic-goodsir]

Good morning, might I interest anyone in some hyperfixated rambling re:

1) Me being wrong about Wilbur Cross and John Macnamara's canon ages.

2) The newly explained Mega Bastards SaF lore (I know it's just Actor Curt Mega's headcanon but it's canon to me now)

3) The implications for my hcs about Wilbur being the Spankoffski bros uncle and John being related to Curt?

Keeping it under a readmore so I don't annoy everyone about this, because I have a lot of thoughts.

*

So it turns out I misunderstood John and Wilbur's canon ages in Black Friday.

According to the wiki they're around 42 and around 44 respectively in 2019. I'd imagined them as being 10 years older than this and therefore in their early 30s back in 1998, but in fact they should have been only 21 and 23 in that Saf/Hatchetverse crossover fic I wrote a while ago, and they were only 28 and 30 when the portal incident happened.

The question of whether Wiley can physically age post-2005 makes this interesting, though. Was Wilbur 44 in 2005, making Wiley eternally 44? That would mean that pre-portal Wilbur was a whole 15 or 16 years older than John, which works well I guess for the canon mentor-mentee context but not so well for my own MacNaCross headcanons. I think such a big age difference would change their dynamic a lot, plus I prefer the idea of Wilbur having been promoted at a fairly young age for a PIEP colonel.

For those reasons I'm gonna go with Wilbur being 30 in 2005 and Wiley being technically 44 in Black Friday, whether or not he ages in a normal human way. The most tragic implication of this is of course that I can't call Wilbur/Wiley a boomer anymore, since being born in 1975 makes them definitely Gen X :(

But it would also make the age difference between Wil and Annie (a Hatchetfield OC of mine who is Wil's sister and Pete and Ted's mom) much larger. Ted was born in 1984, so Annie would have to be at least 10 years older than Wilbur.

Having a 10 year age difference between the Cross Siblings would be kinda cool (it parallels the Spankoffski bros age difference!!) but it does mean rethinking all my headcanons about their sibling dynamic. Plus it would make Wilbur less than 10 years older than Ted and an actual uncle since the age of 9.

- Implications for my headcanons about where the Uncle Wiley character/voice came from? Perhaps.

- Would Ted have known Wilbur better when he was growing up? Seems more likely, especially if Annie helped her younger sibling out when he left home.

- What about Ted and Wilbur knowing each other around the time of the Jenny incident and the portal? Or when Pete was born in 2002? Or Homeless Ted's reasons for queuing up in Black Friday?

MUCH to consider and perhaps draw or write about some time.

*

Anyway. On a different note:

Combining Actor Curt Mega's headcanon about Agent Curt Mega having several illegitimate children with John and Wilbur's canon ages, it's completely possible (if you like SaF/Hatchetverse crossovers) for John Macnamara to be Curt's grandson.

If John is around 42 in TGWDLM and Black Friday, then he was born around 1976. So his mother or father could easily have been born in the early fifties as one of the illegitimate children resulting from Curt's spy activities. And it's likely John wouldn't know this, if the truth was kept a secret from him - which it probably would be, if his grandmother's line of work/status was the kind where you end up being seduced for espionage reasons by the world's greatest spy.

Again: Much to think about.

[stuckinmyweb]

OOC: Hey y'all! This is going on my pinned post as well, but idk how many people who are already on here will read it, so I figured that I would put it here as well.

So...it turns out that having people call you a bitch every other day, dealing complex ethics and morality, and the constant hopeless cycle of killing more people than you save would have a negative effect on your mental health! You woulda thunk/j

This is a kinda long-winded way of saying that I'm going to be scaling this blog back for the sake of my mental health. With some exceptions (Nea, the Pieps (tm), Starlit Songbird, and any other events I think will be fun), this will mostly be a "ask Webby your questions, and she answers" blog.

Please don't get offended if I don't answer your ask, or if I suddenly stop answering a thread. It's nothing personal, I promise.

I am gonna make an OC blog though where (hopefully) the tormenting can continue a little more fun lol.

[the-interidiot]

bro who should I do crackship art of my Hatchetfield oc [Heinz Dion] with (inspired by the ship names my friend and me made) /silly

Basic character of who my oc is if yall were wondering:

Weird Ex-PIEP agent who thinks Pokotho is super cool. TECHNICALLY a field doctor. Pokotho hates his ass and has tried to smite him a ton, but he unintentionally made himself immune to apotheosis via trying to use the black book to SUMMON hive spores. Thinks he’s cool and chosen because he’s immune. Not as crazy as hidgens, not as creepy as Wilbur, not as enthusiastic as Koraxis. But somewhere in the middle. Plus a bit of Coven.

[rosenongrata]

Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 Summary. Two sides of the same coin—the divine man and the accursed lady will one day intertwine.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 A/N. ❌

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 AO3 Link.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 Chapter W.C. 822.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 CW. the abyss order are blatant bastards, no shame fr. eventual romance. blood & injury & violence. trauma/mental illness exploration. slow burn. OC-CENTRIC, OC-INSERT. OC X CANON.

Chapter 2 — New Beginnings.

The frostnip falls upon Hauteclaire’s face—the pokey sensations of pins and needles all over her face and body. Her eyes rise open, only to stare up at the clearing between the dense forest trees to see the white sky powdering her with snow. She's on her back with her limbs splayed out awkwardly as she thinks aloud—

"What time is it?" She sighs, then she begins coughing a lung up from the freezing morning air chilling her down to her bones. "…So tired…" She murmurs, threatening to fall back into an empty dreamland.

Being torn from her lifeless dreams, she hears a distant, "Hey! We found someone!" And then the rapid crunching of snow beneath boots made for this weather approaches her side. "Hey, hey, are you alright, Miss?" They kneel down next to her, but her eyes are so foggy with sleepiness and pain.

"…Does…Does it look like I am…?" She barely breathes out, eliciting an awkward chuckle to come from the man beside her.

"Ah, you got a mouth on you… We'll bring you back to the city swiftly. Don't you worry another moment." His deep, resounding voice reassures her, and then she's fallen back asleep once more. "Dang, she fell asleep…" He sighs.

———

Rousing into a much warmer area, Hauteclaire breathes a heavy sigh of relief while shifting in the soft bed beneath her. Attempting to sit up, her once-frozen bones snap and pop from the lack of usage. She groans, rubbing the joints of her arms with both opposing hands. Golden eyes laden, she stares at the long window to her right side through thick eyelashes.

(Where am I?) She asks herself before shaking her head, placing her feet on the floor to the left side of the bed. (I should investigate…) She stares ahead at the open doorway, leaving behind a crystalline ornament on the bedside table.

Before she's able to leave the room, there's that resounding voice from earlier speaking,

"She can't be dead. Her Vision is still lit up, I even checked." He remarks, crossing his arms firmly.

"It is suspicious, but… She was definitely dead when I checked her body. No pulse or breathing found…" A blonde woman with a stern voice chimes in.

"That's nonsense, someone can't simply just revive like that." He argues with a sigh rolling off his lips. "Let's go check if she's dead then, alright? Maybe you were hallucinating again."

"On the contrary…" Hauteclaire speaks up, pacing past the cathedral nave.

"Ah!" The woman screams in terror, jumping into the man's arms, "Sh-she's alive! A zombie!" She yowls. “D-Don’t eat me!”

"Calm down already." The man sighs, holding the woman without much issue.

"Just who are you, anyway?" The woman breathes heavily.

"Hauteclaire." She nods, "And you are?" She raises a thick brow.

"This is Piep, my betrothed and a nun here at the church," The man gestures his head to the woman in his arms, "And I am Eduard, a local Knight." He gently places Piep back down on her feet.

(None of these things make sense to me except the knight part…) Hauteclaire stares down at the polished floor for a brief moment, and when she looks up at them again, "I see. I presume you saved me, so thank you."

"No problem." Eduard nods, "Mind telling us about yourself, stranger?"

"I do mind." She crosses her arms beneath her bosom.

"…Wow." Eduard and Piep say in unison.

"All I can tell you is that the Abyss Order wants my head on a pike at the moment." She sighs; gaze shifting elsewhere.

"What?!" They yell in surprise. In unison. Again.

"Wow, you two sure are on the same wavelength—"

"The Knights of Favonius will protect you, Hauteclaire. Stay within the city walls and you'll be dandy." He nods and offers a beaming smile.

"…Sure." Hauteclaire's eyes screw shut, vexation growing in her chest. "I suppose I don't have much of a choice." She shakes her head, more than a bit disappointed in herself.

"Why not live with us here in Mondstadt? You don't look like you've got any Mora on you." Piep smiles as well, although it almost looks embittered.

"…Thank you. Truly." Hauteclaire stares holes through their souls, causing chills to run up the couple's spines.

"By the way, I found you with a Cryo Vision in Wolvendom this morning. You should get your things if you're feeling better." He remarks.

"A what now?" She replies with a face warped with confusion and dread.

"Uhhh…" Piep murmurs, offering an awkward smile. "How do we explain this?" She turns to her fiance, whispering to him.

"I got this." He nods before speaking up, "Simply put, it's a channel for elemental energy granted by the Gods. It's a very rare phenomenon."

"Oh, I see." Hauteclaire hums, "That's neat, I guess." She shrugs with a confused frown etching into her features, "By the way…"

"Yes?"

"What's a Mondstadt?"

[followingthefanfiction]

omg I love that PIEP has living quarters I’m stealing that

anyway for OCS we have

Samantha Greeves

the hottest and most cheerful girl on the cheer squad and voted most likely to snap and kill a man in the school yearbook !! She really likes Richie and he doesnt know what to do about because on one hand sexy cheerleader wants to date him but on the other hand is everything else. She kicked max in the balls because I hate him and he deserved it for hitting on her and being mean to Richie. She also slapped Ruth on the ass that tiny bisexual maniac.

”if you tell Richie it’s a good idea to date me I will slap your ass.” “*DEAL-*”

Amy Dikrats

legend has it she’s descended from the founders of the town but mostly she just has depression. I made her to go through WatcherWorld, and maybe the other Nightmares if I have time to watch them. She shot multiple Eldritch gods in the face and survived many apocalyptic events through sheer force of “no one gets to kill me unless god himself drags my ass to heaven.” She didn’t mention any of the apocalyptic things because what is anyone gonna do, sometimes a viscous two faced god wants to watch you twerk in the hall of mirror as you cry. That just happens right? ”does the eldritch god wanna watch me work it??? Huh!?? Pinky pie gonna bite? Fucking do it sons of bitches I wanna see you try. Shut up you green bean, yellow bitch is talking.”

General Mary McNamara

General McNamara’s daughter, very normal. Nothing to see here, very normal. Definitely not a ghost. Normal. Normal child who was born normally and not a ghost of a sort of failed cloning attempt of a father. Have you considered wearing a watch? Wear a watch. She’s so normal about the passage of time and grieving for her father normally. She takes over PIEP after his multiuniversal death in Black Friday and is being normal and grown up about it. A 15 year old in the Military is normal and it is normal for her to be running a military base all by herself and she definitely has not made a deal with a weird goat god to go back in time and see her father she’s just busy for unspecified reasons.

“well if you follow me, I’ll take you back to your proper dimension, please ignore the goat, he’s the…. Mascot… you gotta wear a watch around him he’s sneaky. Anyway ignore all of that I have a meeting at three.”

Anyway I hope you like them, I’ve worked on them a while and I love them. A bit Mary sue but I make a lot of those because who doesn’t love a happy story.

begging any of my star/kid mutuals to ask about the hatchet/field inside my brain. pleas e

[notmakasia]

Piep! :3

[bisquiibits]

“Icing Skating” - no, it’s not a spelling mistake: it’s Chipi (a cookie critter) skating on the icing of a donut with his little candy canes~ ♫ It’s been snowing softly when I created this illustration, the atmosphere outside was just so perfectly fitting! 💕 I wish all of you a cozy and nice winter time :3 (My original characters from left to right: Pieps, Chipi and Mu) > Please don’t repost, trace, copy, edit or use my art, thanks! :3 ♪

[rosenongrata]

Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 Summary. Two sides of the same coin—the divine man and the accursed lady will one day intertwine.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 A/N. idk what to even say here. enjoy?

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 AO3 Link.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 Chapter W.C. 1185.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 CW. the abyss order are blatant bastards, no shame fr. eventual romance. blood & injury & violence. trauma/mental illness exploration. slow burn. OC-CENTRIC, OC-INSERT. OC X CANON.

Chapter 6 — Decade Past.

"Claire… How much longer can we take care of him? My father, that is…"

A familiar fatigued voice echoes into the room from the doorway. And when Hauteclaire's pale gold eyes dart to the speaker, she sees exactly how tired the now adult Ramona has become.

Hauteclaire has been sitting in the bedroom of Eduard—Ramona's father—for a while now, watching over his sleeping form. For most of the day, in fact. He's now rapidly grown old and ill ever since the unfortunate passing of his wife—Piep—a decade ago. To the family friend, she knows heartbreak comes in all forms.

She closes her book, "I was thinking of what to do for him, actually." She begins, yet doesn't elaborate further.

"…Like what? Are you going to leave too? Like Maria and Elizabeth?" Ramona whispers, already assuming the worst.

"…No." The older woman retorts softly, "I was going to make a quick trip to Liyue Harbor…see if their pharmacy has any solutions. The Church is hopeless to help him at this rate. We'll try our next best bet." She rises to her feet from the rocking chair in the corner of the room.

"Why can't you do anything?" The opposing brunette sighs, blind to the weight of her words.

"I'm no healer, Ramona." Her gold eyes sharpen threateningly, but her worrisome knitted brows say otherwise.

"Right…" Ramona mumbles weakly, taking her friend's words for a grain of salt. "If you do go to Liyue Harbor, uhm… Stay safe, please. I can't lose you too…" She finishes, turning on her heel and shutting the door behind her as she leaves.

Hauteclaire blinks, and then she sighs. She walks over to the bedside, observing Eduard's condition as her mind floods with possibilities.

And she wonders, "What if I do go back to alchemy?"

She is capable of healing him, but is it her place to intervene with life's course?

Not really.

Other alchemists may think otherwise, though. But it's not her way of doing things, and it never has been. Yet, when someone as close as Ramona begs her to do something…she begins to second-guess herself and her beliefs.

Oh well, she concludes. She said she'd go to that pharmacy, and so she will.

—

A young boy screams, his echo bouncing off the cliff walls above him. He collapses onto his back before scrambling backward—attempting to avoid his "inevitable fate". His eyes screw shut as he loses the remainder of his strength to run from the Mitachurl.

But nothing happens to him.

Instead, he hears a loud slash and splattering of blood. Then, there's a loud thud and a soft grunt, a soft sigh following after. Yet he refuses to pry open his eyes to see what happened—still rattled after everything that has led to this moment.

Only does he open his eyes when he hears the delicate voice of a cold woman,

"You alright? Let me check for injuries." She whispers to him.

When his gaze lands on her, he allows her to give him a quick check. His heart flutters with relief to see another person and not a Hilichurl on the road.

She spots a large gash on his arm, he must've been sliced by an arrow, she deduces silently. She sighs softly, aware that she is helpless to take care of the open wound right away.

"The harbor is nearby, let's get you to the pharmacy, alright?" She offers with a small smile, her face no longer as cold as before. "Come here." She pulls him into her arms before lifting him up to carry him.

"Th-thank you, ma'am…" He whimpers, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.

"What's your name, little one?" The woman clad in dark red and black inquires, glancing down at him as she begins to walk him to the harbor.

"Lanqing…" He mutters bashfully, his own eyes diverting from hers.

"I'm Hauteclaire, it's very nice to meet you." She nods, finding his bashfulness both cute and concerning, "Let's get you out of here, Lanqing."

—

Once getting his arm cleaned and patched up at Bubu Pharmacy, Hauteclaire pays for the medicine she's had full intention of buying before. Although now she has to wait for it to be made, so she stops outside the medical center with Lanqing in tow. She glances down at the young, short boy.

"Let's explore while we wait, okay? I want to find somewhere comfortable for you to stay." She offers kindly, that same soft smile on her face.

"O-Okay…" He nods in return, an even tinier smile caressing his tanned features.

"Good." She pats his small head, his hair ruffled and messy from the long journey here.

As they begin to wander, they find themselves in Chihu Rock. Lanqing disbands from her side while she had been speaking to a Millileth soldier. He realizes she doesn't notice right away, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief.

When he finds the Grilled Tiger Fish stand, he nabs two of them and runs off. The owner yells "thief!" …Yet no one chases him. But, this does catch Hauteclaire's attention—

"Lanqing? Lanqing?!" She calls out the moment she notices he disappeared from her side.

He runs up to her, holding the two sticks of grilled fish. He hands her one and mutters,

"Thank you for saving me—" He stops when he realizes the soldier is scowling at him.

She's quick to notice as well. When she bends down to Lanqing's height, she smiles wearily,

"Lanqing… I appreciate the gesture, but you can't steal. It's not right to do. Let me buy the food instead." She mumbles, rubbing a hand over his hair.

He pouts, staring down at the ground. While her heart sinks from his sad state, she returns to her full height and pays the owner a bit of the remaining Mora she has. Even though the owner notices how poor both the boy and woman are, he considers this a fair transaction.

Once that…situation is handled, the child and the guardian take a rest on the wooden walkway nearby. While they eat, Hauteclaire decides to prod him a bit for answers…

"So, Lanqing, what are you doing out on your own?" She asks gently after swallowing.

"Uhm…" Lanqing mutters, his hesitance is as clear as the sun that bears down on them. "M-My mother…she…she's gone." He confesses, quiet but heavy sorrow filling his voice to the brim.

She frowns as she looks out to the bright blue sea before them. After taking a quiet moment to register his confession, she speaks up.

"I know what that's like." She admits, her voice lowering to keep people passing by out of earshot.

"Y-You do…?" His head whips up to gaze up at her, small tears filling the precipice of his eyes.

"Yup. It was…quite some time ago, but I understand the pain." She nods, exchanging stares with him. "Persevere, though, little Lanqing. Your mother wants nothing but the best for you, I'm sure of it."

And that comment alone makes his eyes light up like fireworks.

[rosenongrata]

Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 Summary. Two sides of the same coin—the divine man and the accursed lady will one day intertwine.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 A/N. major cw for death, electrocution, and arguments.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 AO3 Link.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 Chapter W.C. 2337.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 CW. the abyss order are blatant bastards, no shame fr. eventual romance. blood & injury & violence. trauma/mental illness exploration. slow burn. OC-CENTRIC, OC-INSERT. OC X CANON.

Chapter 5 — Rose Blood.

"Oh, darn…" Piep sighs, staring down at a potted yet wilting Cecilia with knitted brows and a tight frown, "My Cecilia is wilting…" She brushes the rough pads of her fingers across the crinkling petals.

Hauteclaire's eyes snap in her direction from across the head of the dining table. Saying nothing, she takes another sip of her morning Valberry tea. Piep glances over at her long-time friend, a scowl growing on her pale features.

"Nothing to say, huh? With your alchemical knowledge, could you—"

"No." Hauteclaire quickly interjects without hesitation.

"Hmph…" Piep scoffs, returning her gaze to the once pure white flower. Now, it's beginning to dry, brown, and curl into itself. "Fine, then, have it your way. Like always." She rolls her peridot green eyes. "I'm going to the shop… Feel free to join whenever." She offers despite the tension.

"Alright." The opposing woman nods to her, watching her with tired eyes as she moves to the backdoor that leads to her flower shop. (I can't interfere… Life must run its natural course…) She glances at the flower right as one of the petals floats down to the dirt of the pot. She sighs.

—

Later that day—in the flower shop—Hauteclaire helps out Piep with her floral duties. This mostly consists of catering to any customers and providing opinions on arrangements.

It's a slow day today, too—perhaps it's due to the early morning time, or Mondstadter's getting lazier than ever…

Unlike Piep, Hauteclaire doesn't mind the languid foot traffic today. Piep is an easily bothered woman, contrary to many Mondstadters' easy-going way of life. Even within the pleasure of her biggest passion—flower arranging—she's never too satisfied with anything. To the average person, she appears stingy and high-strung. To Hauteclaire and Eduard, she's all too insecure for her own good.

Hauteclaire has grown used to her behavior by now, though. She now knows how to maneuver through the torrential waters of Piep's virulent emotions. The little spat from earlier about her most treasured Cecilia is hardly anything unusual for her. She's delicate as the flowers she so loves, that's all.

And it hurts Hauteclaire every time she sees her former apprentice in Piep…

As she moves to rest her arms on the shop's center table, one hand props up to hold her heavy head. The other hand's fingers tap dance back and forth along the semi-worn wood; pale gold eyes falling halfway shut.

Then, there's a sudden jolt of overwhelming tension in her body—her heartstrings tying into a complicated knot. That's the second she begins pining to not think for a while all over again.

As her mind floods with memories of her old apprentice, a stark emptiness in the pit of her stomach follows close behind. She grimaces slightly, features furrowing in the tiniest manner.

Wishing is painful, but desiring is even more so, and lusting is the final stage before destruction. She's seen it time and time again—that happens when you live in the Abyss for so long. The Abyss Order is the very definition of destructive lust.

The only person she could think of that barely fits the bill of "average Abyss Order looney" is her former apprentice, a cowardly woman who wields no passion nor drive—

"Ulfhild…"

She gulps down a thick knot of pure tension that persists in restricting her breathing. Her voice not even above a whisper, indeed it was too soft for Piep to hear.

"Hey! Look alive, Claire!" Piep's familiar voice cuts in to tear her out of the deep sea of murky thoughts.

Hauteclaire's eyes widen for a brief moment before settling comfortably once more. Adjusting her posture, she straightens her back and eases the tightness in her shoulders. With a quick flick of her gaze, she watches Piep welcome in a woman garbed in shades of cobalt blues and woody browns.

"How may we help you today, Lady Aurelie?" Piep inquires with an amicable smile.

The blonde florist leads the navy blue-haired lady to the front of the nearby center table, where Hauteclaire sits at. At least, she was sitting there until Piep flashed her a daring glare from the corner of her tea-green eyes. That's more than enough for the old family friend to stand at attention.

This new customer, Aurelie, glances around the homely and quaint flower shop. The center table holds a variety of work-in-progress bouquets, shop files, and a cup of tea. Piep doesn't fail to tear Aurelie away from her thoughts, though.

"Feel free to look around! If you have any questions, you can ask either of us." The florist nods. "We even have some new shipments, if you'd like to know more."

"U-Uh… Yes, please?" Aurelie sputters out, and Piep figures the tension of arriving in a new country must be getting to her.

Hauteclaire on the other hand, (Why did she phrase that like a question…?) She ponders with furrowing brows. (Even her voice… It sounds rather familiar—)

Piep, snapping her out of her thoughts, elbows Hauteclaire in the arm, "Can you go fetch us some of those new Sumeru flowers we got the other day in the back room?"

The family friend, with a low voice, whispers to Piep, "Can you do it? I'd like to ask her some questions…"

"What? No—" When their eyes meet, Piep sees that firm determination in her long-time friend's pale golden eyes. "Okay… Fine." She turns to Aurelie once more, "Would you like something from Fontaine or Sumeru?"

"Uhm…" Aurelie ponders aloud, her hand rising to her chin as her tired eyes glance elsewhere, "Liyue… Please?" She's avoided eye contact this whole time, hasn't she? That's what Hauteclaire notices.

"Oh, sure! We got some new Glaze Lilies very recently, I'm sure you'll love them." Piep nods with faux excitement before rushing to the backroom of the little shop.

"So, Aurelie…" Hauteclaire approaches her with silent and slow steps as if approaching a frightened deer. "Ever been to Mondstadt before?" She crosses her arms beneath her bosom, her exhausted eyes giving the smaller woman the sense that maybe she's a harmless person.

"Uhm…? A couple of times?" Aurelie resists jumping back at the sudden approach, her shoulders and back visibly tensing. "I don't really remember…?"

(That's it. She sounds exactly like her.) Hauteclaire comes to a silent conclusion, "Well, I offer you a warm welcome to the country of freedom." She replies with subtle amicability, (If I'm right, she's going to be disgusted by that statement.)

Then, lo and behold, Aurelie's face does warp with mild disgust and hatred. Her dark cobalt blue eyebrows furrow down and the corner of her lip rises upward.

"Uhm… Thanks?" The mystery woman attempts to accept the compliment at a shallow level, hoping it's enough to get Hauteclaire off her back.

Before another question can get thrown onto her shoulders, Piep returns with a handful of Glaze Lilies. She plants them on the center table, and it appears that she brought some Silk Flowers as well.

"Sorry for the delay, I was figuring out what would make a good composition with such unique flowers," Piep assures with a nod, staring down at the flora before her.

"Add some white and dried branches…" Hauteclaire muses her advice as she returns to the blonde's side.

"Baby's Breath should do. It goes nicely with all compositions, in my opinion. Is that alright, Lady Aurelie?" The florist glances at her customer, who is still avoiding eye contact.

"Sure?" Aurelie relaxes, her voice growing laden from interaction.

"…Of course. Baby's Breath it is." Her tea-green eyes and delicate yet scarred hands immediately get to work.

"Uhm… By the way… Please send them to Springvale…? I'll be there with my…lover?" Aurelie implores.

"No problem. Now, for pricing—"

A hefty bag of Mora drops onto the table.

"That's…quite a lot." Piep blinks, eyes going wide.

"Please, take it all…" The customer presses, "I'll see you there…!" She then storms out of the shop, nearly tripping on her way out.

"Hey, wait—!" Piep reaches out to her, yet fails to catch her in time, "That was…strange."

"We should reject this request—" Hauteclaire begins, swiftly cut off by the grumpy mother.

"No! She already paid us, and it's way too much! Not that I'm necessarily complaining, but…" She huffs, folding her arms.

"Are you or are you not complaining, then?" She retorts, then shakes her head and resumes the more important topic. "Anyway—we should not take this request—"

"Shut up!" Piep yells, "I'm sick of you! I'll let you come with me, but you better keep your mouth shut the whole way there!" She growls, her hand raising to smack Hauteclaire, yet she resists the temptation to throw her out of her life in the heat of the moment. "…I'll get you when I'm ready. Get out."

"…Fine." Hauteclaire sighs, exiting the shop without another word.

—

Not even an hour later, the two women head out to Springvale—the tension and silence between them are thick as layered wool. Not a single word spoken to them on the way to the small village nearby, leaving both women to their own thoughts. Only the crumpling of dirt from footsteps and soft whispers of autumn wind accompany their worn hearts.

"Piep, I—" Hauteclaire suddenly speaks up, her head spinning toward her friend.

"S-Surrender now!" A familiar stuttery voice from behind the pair calls out, "I-I don't want to hurt either of you—"

"Ulfhild."

Hauteclaire hisses between locked teeth, spinning on her heel to face the feminine Abyss Herald. Her gloved hands clench into tight fists at her side, preparing herself for the storm ahead.

Boring holes into the cowardly beast's soulless eyes, she yells, "Get out of here, Ulfhild. I have no time for you." She scoffs, glancing at Piep and whispering, "Stay close to me."

"Who is that?" Piep murmurs back.

"…My former apprentice."

"I…I trust you." The blonde replies, eyes weary and brows knitted as they exchange glances.

"…Thank you." Hauteclaire smiles down at her.

Ulfhild brushes her long black and blue locks behind her shoulder, "I-I see you won't go down without a proper fight, then…" Horizontally slicing the air with her hand, she calls out, "Yrsa, Miuki! Deal with them! Bring Hauteclaire back no matter what it takes—"

She screams as an arrow made of Cryo zips right past her, snipping strands of raven hair off her head.

"Back down, Ulfhild, you stand no chance." Hauteclaire threatens darkly, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

"Y-YRSA!" Ulfhild screams again, head whipping around in different directions.

And right as a woman charges in from behind with a drawn sword, Hauteclaire slips her arm around Piep's waist and spins both of them out of the way. Glancing down at the blade of silver-blue steel, Hauteclaire grimaces—teeth gritting.

While the sword is still physically familiar, it crackles with foreign elemental energy. Piep gulps, the potency of the element emanating from the blade unnerves her—to the point of gut-wrenching nausea.

"Stay with me, Piep. We'll get out of this." Hauteclaire reassures with a gentle squeeze around the side of the blonde's waist.

"Please, Claire… Please, save me—"

Then, a bone-chilling bubble of water splashes both of them from behind. Piep pivots her head to glance at whatever it was—only to find a Hydro Abyss Mage as the culprit. Whipping her head away, she clings to Hauteclaire with eyes screwed shut—

"Lord Barbatos, please—" Piep clasps her hands together in prayer, lips trembling with every utterance.

"Your so-called Lord can't help you now…nor will he ever." Yrsa scoffs, "If it is true freedom, he will leave your fate in its hands."

She flips the sword up into the air and as it spins back down, she catches it by its hilt and strikes it deep into the earth. Then, a crack of unfiltered Electro energy sprouts from the crust and zips toward its targets.

Hauteclaire is swift with her arms, slipping Piep into her embrace before darting out of harm's way. Yet, her desperation cannot outrun lightning.

The lightning bolts its way up Hauteclaire's left leg like a loose string and paralyzes her. That same thunderstroke takes a hold of Piep, only to leave behind another paralyzed woman in its wake. Although, it leaves the blonde much more fried than her assumed warrior—rendering her limp in the other's hold.

Hauteclaire, struggling to stand, collapses to her burning knees. As her eyes fall heavy, she takes one last leer at Ulfhild. Then, she uses the last of her strength to crumple on top of Piep—as if protecting her with the numb body she can no longer control.

—

Could all of that have been a bad dream? That's the first thing Hauteclaire asks herself when she awakens—the night already deep and the candle on her bedside table dim. As she comes to realize her situation, she jolts up into an upright position before scrambling out of bed.

"Piep!" She begs the second before she hits the floor with a loud thud. "Piep…" She sobs dryly, unable to control her body that overflows with numbness and stillness once more.

"Eir…" A deep, grave voice calls out from the darkness—despite its sudden call, the voice is all too familiar to the limp lady.

And then heavy footsteps follow, approaching her where she lay. While unable to make out the shadowy figure, she can still tell who it is. The figure grabs her arms, lifting her up before carrying her back to her bed.

When his face becomes clear from the dim candlelight, Hauteclaire gasps and reaches out to him,

"Don't leave me… Not again…" She whimpers, eyes heavy with exhaustion. And as she barely manages to clasp her hand around his cloak, she releases a longing sigh.

"I have to, Eir. You know this." His large, gloved hand grabs her own, ripping it away from his clothes. Yet he lingers, holding her with an almost vice-like grip. "Do you remember my name?"

And all she can do is echo the man’s long-lost name.

[rosenongrata]

Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 Summary. Two sides of the same coin—the divine man and the accursed lady will one day intertwine.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 A/N. short chapter. but it's sweet too! anyway, crossposting do be takin long time.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 AO3 Link.

⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 Chapter W.C. 653. ⋯ 𓆩♡𓆪 CW. the abyss order are blatant bastards, no shame fr. eventual romance. blood & injury & violence. trauma/mental illness exploration. slow burn. OC-CENTRIC, OC-INSERT. OC X CANON.

Chapter 4 — Invitation to Windblume.

Colorful petals fall from the flowered garlands high above, floating through the soft breezes. And chatter fills the air as adults and children alike populate the town square of Mondstadt, exchanging gifts and words of love to one another. Some eat together at Good Hunter's or share love poems, and even exchange bouquets of flowers…

Every year, Hauteclaire is struck by the beauty and romance of the Windblume festival. Even the cheer brightens her weary smile. And seeing the Müller family so happy makes her even more elated. While Piep and Eduard take a romantic getaway to Cape Oath, she babysits their three little girls—Maria, Elizabeth, and Ramona. They tug her around all of Mondstadt to try everything out.

When they make a stop by the grand statue of Barbatos, the cheerful music of a plucked lyre fills the air. And soon, two of the older sisters dance about the petal-speckled courtyard. Hauteclaire dozes off, her eyes fluttering shut as she relishes in the pleasant breeze and sunny warmth. She sighs, and then she feels a tug at her clothes.

Eyes flickering open, she looks down to see little Ramona. She's smiling and holding a lyre up to the older woman. Hauteclaire smiles and plucks the lyre from her small hands.

"Now, where'd you get this, hm?" She inquires.

"That man over there let me borrow it." Ramona points to a short, young man clad in green clothes and a hat with a Cecilia pinned to it. "Can you play me a tune? Please?" She asks shyly, a nervous fluster on her cheeks.

"Alright, I'll give it my best." Hauteclaire nods, a smile touching her lips as she looks down at the young girl. "Hmm… Let's see…" She muses, plucking the strings randomly before a tune comes to mind.

The song is slow and melancholy—contrasting the high, joyful energy around them. Her fingers waltz across the strings as her voice follows along with the sweet tune. Her cords float away with the breeze brushing past as fluttering petals drift past, littering the pathways of Mondstadt.

"He once was a true love of mine…" She finishes, the melancholy on her tongue dripping. Her eyes a tinge glassy with building sorrow, and she hands the lyre back to the little girl, "Now, go return the lyre, alright?"

"Of course!" Ramona spins on her heel and runs into the young man she pointed out before, "I'm sorry…"

"Ehe, no worries! I was the one who sneaked up on you." He reassures with defensive waving of his hands, "I merely desired to come compliment your friend here."

"Oh! Isn't she the best…?" Ramona whispers while she hands him his lyre.

"Why of course! The best I have ever heard!" He takes his lyre with a sunny smile on his soft cheeks, "You did magnificent, ma'am. Have you ever considered becoming a bard?" He inquires, shifting his gaze to the woman that towers over him.

"I don't like being in the spotlight." She flusters, her tan cheeks tinting a shade darker. "Thank you, though. I appreciate the kind words…" She shifts nervously, glancing away from the swirling power of his Anemo-hued eyes. That knowing gaze makes her stomach churn.

He notices, yet chooses to not speak about it.

"Well, if you ever would like to become one, I can introduce you to the scene!" He nods, "And with that, I bid you adieu. Do have a lovely day."

The two girls watch him leave; he strides up to a group of people to play his own much more cheerful tunes for them. Hauteclaire scoffs, and Ramona notices her discomfort with ease—taking her hand into her own and smiling up at her.

"It's okay… I thought he was a little goofy, too." Ramona remarks before giggling.

"More than just a bit goofy, I think." Hauteclaire snorts, her dampened mood quickly drying up to reveal a layer of warmth below.

[bisquiibits]

I doodled a sunbathing squirrel and wanted to use that sketch somewhere: since I'm into hanging planters (and plants in general ) it was just a perfect opportunity to combine this! :3 OC: "Bisquii" Size: 2,5 by 3,5 inch (ACEO card, created with watercolors) > Please do not repost, recreate, trace, edit or use my art, thanks~ :3

[bisquiibits]

“chick happens” - watercolor illustration :3 A few years ago someone told me to draw a “clumsy chick” I redrew that sketch and immediately thought of “chick happens” (based on the saying “sh*t happens”).

> Please do not repost, recreate, use, edit or trace my art, thanks! :3

[bisquiibits]

A matcha soft ice cream Christmas tree 😄🎄 (The cat character is my OC “Miew”)

Pls don’t repost, trace, copy, edit or use my art, thanks! :3 ♪

[bisquiibits]

"Starfruits" - My character Miew (the cat) is collecting special star fruits. I imagine them to taste like peach and banana mixed together :)

Pls don’t repost, trace, copy, edit or use my art, thanks! :3 ♪