#anyway. throws this out there and then wanders away into the abyss

[pestilentbrood]

will you still love me, once i've given up?

[ghoulfriendfangs]

Febuwhump 23 - “Let Me Be Nice to You Just Because”

Day Six: “Kind Words” with Wanderer (Genshin Impact)

You try to comfort your traveling companion after a severe injury, but he doesn’t exactly make it easy for you.

{WC: ~1,600} {Wanderer x reader, but could be read as platonic or romantic, traveler!reader, injury, body horror}

@febuwhump

  “Let me see that arm,” you tried, starting off in a soothing and warm tone. You’ll try honey before you try vinegar.

  Wanderer gripped his sleeve, covering the arm in question as he turned away from you. “It’s fine- nothing worth stopping over. We need to get out of here.”

  Bullshit. Both of you knew the risk of going this deep in the abyss- how even a minor injury could snowball into near death. Even for someone as resilient as the Wanderer, it wasn’t worth risking his life to save face.

  Especially considering what had happened.

  Your heart still feels like it’s been struck by lightening. You felt a new kind of powerlessness when the lawchurl suddenly grabbed him out of the air by the arm, sending torrents of electricity through your companion. He threw him across the chamber like a rag doll- and he struck the wall, sinking to the floor like a discarded toy. He didn’t move- you had thought for a moment you lost him- but now the lawchurl’s attention was on you and you had to fight for both of your lives.

  By the time you staggered- exhausted but with only superficial wounds and covered in the beast’s blood- over to your traveling companion, he had returned to consciousness. You know for a fact the impact knocked him unconscious because he was wiping his eyes. You know he still cries in his sleep. He recovered inhumanly quickly, coming to his feet and rushing over to you. You watches his eyes flicker over your body- not doing a good job at all of hiding his concern. That’s when you noticed the way his left arm was hanging limply.

  Back in the present, you tried some not so subtle tactics.

  “Wanderer I swear to the Gods that if you don’t show me your arm…”

  “We’re in the Abyss- the Gods aren’t listening.”

  “Wanderer!”

  “It’s not Important.”

  “That’s your arm! ‘Oooh it’s not important’ you cast spells with that arm!”

  He looks at you with a surprised, detached expression. His lips contort into an awful scowl. “I assure you, this isn’t going to interfere with our expedition.” His words are cold, robotic, rehearsed. “I can keep fighting- there’s no need to reprimand me.”

  “No- no that’s not what I meant. That’s not what this is about- I don’t care if you can fight or not!”

  He won’t make eye contact with you. You try again.

  “I’m worried that my closest friend is hurt.”

  That surprises him- he looks up at you with poorly disguised shock. He laughs.

  “You know, it’s just the two of us down here. I wasn’t kidding about the Gods not hearing you- and I’m certainly not going to judge you for making the most optimal decisions. You don’t have to put on a morality play… I ruined your whole treasure hunt. It’s only expected that you’d be angry with me for my failure.”

  “There’s always going to be more treasure- but there’s not going to be another you.”

  “Wow, that’s.. actually disgustingly sappy. Please- I’d rather you be blunt with me if the alternative is so saccharine. What’s are you, a bard?”

  “Then how’s this- Nahida and I practically had to dig you out of Irmunsul and I’m not letting you throw it away over a fucking lawchurl.”

  He laughs- still forced, but more real than the one before (he rarely really laughs). “See? Doesn’t that feel a lot better?” He finally turns so you can see his arm. “It’s not like your words are gonna hurt me, anyways.”

  Something is wrong.

  Whatever has happened is covered by his sleeve- but already your stomach is sick. His arm is… hanging lower than it should be- and at an odd angle. At first, you think he’s pulled his elbow out of socket or something. Maybe his shoulder. He lets you pull up his sleeve- and flinches as you jump in shock.

  His arm is shattered above the elbow. Shattered. The space between the curve of his arm and his shoulder is just splintered- it looks like teeth or a cracked geode. If you peer into the wound (is that even the right word) you can see some sort of cable or rope. You suppose that’s what moves his body in place of muscles, and perhaps the only thing keeping his forearm somewhat attached. You don’t know- you don’t want to keep staring because he’s noticing your staring.

  “Don’t touch that,” he warns. “You’ll get cut- the edges are like glass.”

  “You say that like this has happened before?”

  “Plenty of times. Especially back when I joined the harbingers. That’s when I first broke my arm- it’s been weak ever since.”

  “Then it can be fixed?”

  “Not really. Not back to how it’s supposed to be.”

  “…tell me,” you ask. Wanderer doesn’t usually open up about his past, but lately you’ve realized he rarely turns down whatever you ask him to do.

  He sits on the polished blue floor by your side. “…you know, up until I received divine knowledge, I wasn’t even sure what I was made of. I still remember the first time I broke my arm- It was actually in the abyss, too. I had never even had a scratch before- and suddenly my body was coming apart. I actually thought I was ruined.”

  He picks up the remains of his arm, and starts to fiddle with the strings. You aren’t sure if he’d feel more comfortable if you look away, or more normal if you watch.

  “…my body is supposed to be a divine vessel. It isn’t meant to break or crack- but it did. Typical, isn’t it? And the cherry on top- mortals don’t have any way of recreating this… “shell.” The doctor managed to come up with something kind of close- enough to seal the cracks and put my body back together plenty of times.”

  “And… what do you do without him?”

  He looks away in shame. He utters it like a dirty word.

  “Plaster.”

  He pulls aside his robe- this time showing off a spiderweb above his collar bone. You can see where his original body stops and is replaced by the plaster- it’s a bit more rugged, and less convincing in it’s imitation of human flesh. When you touch Wanderer’s skin, it’s colder and less elastic than your own, but still stretchy. You can’t imagine how imbedding plaster into the cracks would feel.

  “It’s cheap, I can find it anywhere, and I’ve gotten pretty decent at applying it. It holds me together ok… but it’s imperfect. And once I’ve broken something, it’s never going to be as good as it was. In that way… it kind of fits me perfectly.”

  He forcibly laughs again, but frowns when you make the most horrified face ever. Fuck- he thought laughing would put you more at ease, it usually does… Why can’t humans just be straightforward?

  …you pull up your own shirt, revealing a deep puncture wound

  “An arrow hit me really bad here. Paimon freaked out about it, so I just pretended it didn’t hurt. I don’t like showing anyone the scar because it’s weird.”

  “…I don’t think that’s on the same level as my arm. It doesn’t look bad at all-“

  “And this,” you interrupt, pointing to one over your forearm, “I actually got this one in the abyss, too. Pyro abyss mage. Set my arm hairs on fire. Looks kind of like raw chicken, right?”

  “Only if you say it does, now I can’t help but see it… but you-“

  “This is from a hilichurl ambush, this one’s from a fatui debt collector, don’t ask me how but I got it from a slime, this one is from breaking my ankle trying to glide from Dragonpine to Mondstat Cathedral…”

  You carried on, revealing every scar you’d earned on the road.

 “You know, most adventurers would retire after just one near death experience. I can’t say if that makes you brave or especially foolish.”

  “I’m just trying to say, everyone has scars. Doesn’t mean they’re broken.”

  “…do your scars maker your body weaker?”

  “Yes,” you answer without hesitation. “..some of them affect my abilities. Some of them… still hurt. But it doesn’t make anyone broken- that’s just what scars do. And hey- anyone who tells you otherwise probably has slime for brains.”

  He contemplates it for a minute, then he moves closer to you. He looks from the spiderweb pattern on his chest… to the arrow puncture in your stomach. Both look painful, both are painful, and both carry a story with them.

  “And here I thought this was just another thing that made me less divine, and less human… at least its only one of the two. Only a hopeless optimist like you could ever make me feel better about cracking my arm off.”

  “That’s the Wanderer I like to hear. No more saying awful things about yourself- lets go find someone else to bitch about.”

  “You don’t want to finish this floor?”

  “Pfft- the floor can wait. Hey, I know this alchemist in Mondstat- maybe he can cook up something for your arm. I’m sure he can at least make decent quality plaster!”

  “Fine. But you need to eat before we head back to Mondstat. I’m not carrying you there with one arm- but don’t worry. I can still cook just fine.”

  “Wait a minute… I thought it was my turn to cook?” You tease.

  “So much for trying to be subtle… I want to cook for you…”

  You help him to his feet.

  “I need to repay you for… all of this.”

  “No, you don’t. I can be nice to you just because, remember? You don’t owe me anything for it.”

  “…then let me be nice to you just because.”

[quieteclipse]

idk if i like this design for my potential gachiakuta oc, but it'll do for now until i get to know her better.

anyways, idk her name yet, it'll come after i figure out her story.

i'm thinking her jinki is her "pet snake" (a wooden snake that's childhood toy given to her by her best friend (long gone (not deceased?))) that turns into a dragon. i think it'd be kinda cool if she could turn any toy animal into a jinki, buuuuuuut we'll see. i don't wanna ruin the novelty of rudo's entire character.

as for her backstory, i'll kinda just go with the flow as a write this. first drafts are first drafts 🤷🏿‍♀️ depending on my fixation with the series, she'll either be left to rot as is or she'll get a complete & total overhaul later on.

anyways, so i'm thinking her ancestors are from the sphere/sky. but somewhere along her family history, they got sent down to the abyss (and somehow survived). i kinda wanna make it into a thing where the family in ber ancestry was a big one, and because they were so big, the higher ups thought they were prostituting/selling the kids or hust doing something vaguely shady.....so they sent THE WHOLE FAMILY down. as if the kids would've been at fault in that situation lmaooo

a lot of them didn't survive, namely the parents and the younger kids. it was mostly the eldest & middle children that survived the fall. but even from there, not many managed to survive the toxins or skypeople traffickers, so it resulted in the eldest son and the surviving youngest daughter being the ones to carry on the family legacy.

each of the known surviving child were dedicated to having just one or two children each—provided they or their offspring even wanted children—and that was something that continued for generations until alitash tasifa's* generation.

(*that's her name now; alitash is an ethiopian name that means "may i never lose you" and tasifa is an amharic surname that means "hope". hopefully these meanings are correct! )

i think ali grew up very lonely because somehow, someway, her family lineage (that she knew of) grew smaller and smaller until it was only her and her parents—and of course her parents have to die at some point.

and i guess, since i mentioned a childhood best friend! maybe she ends up living with her childhood bestie & their family for a bit until something happens with them. i guess they ended up needing to move and they didn't/couldn't take ali with them. the best friend's larting gift was the wooden toy snake they made themselves (it was to replce this "trashy" toy lizard ali picked up randomly off the street). ali gave them her favorite "trashy" toy lizard in exchange.

once when ali went up to meet their bestie & the fam, she ends up finding out that no one knew anything about a new family moving in. and in her search for them, she discovers that they never even made it to town. but that's pretty much all she ended up finding out.

for a while, ali kind of just wandered around since she had no real place to go back to and no one was waiting for her either.

she ends up inadvertently meeting engine & riyo after they tripped over her seemingly lifeless body in the streets. ali had kind of given up at that point and was just wasting away, waiting to die, but the funny thing is, her jinki was wrapped around her, protecting her from the elements & predators. engine of course saw this and bet on her potential as a cleaner, so he reasoned with ali's jinki (gotta give it a name) and eventually, they were able to gain its trust so that they could take ali in.

it was hard for ali to open up at first, because she was convinced that she'd eventually cause the cleaners to disappear somehow...or make them "throw her away". but she has been with them ever since and has gained her old self back.

now, as for what her "old self" means....? aka, what her personality is.....idk. in my mind, ali is grown, maybe like 28. the first thing that comes to my mind is a "wine aunt" kinda vibe. she is generally cheerful and loving, maybe a little friendly-flirty, but a deep melancholy permeates her exterior sometimes. she doesn't have much book smarts (and she's insecure about it, which is why she has a penchant for studying), but she has a lot of street smarts.

she has complicated feelings on whether she wants a family herself or not one day. it's mostly because she has only one person on her mind when it comes to love, and she doesn't even know if that person is dead or alive.

also irt her childhood best friend, i'm absolutely imagining them being a minor vandal or some sort of antagonist.

i'm also wanting for a relative (or relatives) of hers to show up at some point. like from one of those lost siblings all those generations ago. i want my pookie to have a family 🥺 i mean, she'll have a found family with the cleaners, but you know. having options isnt bad.

ummmmm i think that's it. for now anyways. so much of this is off rip & so vague, but it's a decent start for now i think.

[parasphendale]

✈

✈ - an eye-opening memory

It had been three nights since Harlow had been first plunged into the Abyss.

The experience itself had been standard, at least as far as the Abyss goes. She had been listening to a lecture on the history of Caine. Pagan had been lingering on Caine's rejection of God's attempts to reconcile and had gotten off on what Harlow considered to be an unnecessary tangent. She would have much preferred a sect history discussion, anyway.

But, all of these lessons had merit. Aside from that, Harlow wasn't even real Sabbat. So, she had no say in what had merit in the first place. When her eyes had wandered too many times toward the clock on the wall, Marco plunged her into the depths of the Abyss. Standard practice, all things considered. It was only for a few seconds.

But, she couldn't help thinking about it nights later. A world where there was nothing. Logically, that would mean it was a world with nothing but her, as she was presumably the sole inhabitant. But when Harlow moved her body, her limbs did not follow. When she tried to move her head, her eyes remained fixed. It wasn't just too dark to see her body, it was too dark to have a body. She was there, and yet she was not. The Abyss was a world where there was no logic at all.

The entire situation perplexed Harlow. She wanted to ask Marco more about what she felt, but was afraid he would simply throw her there again. After all, experience is the best teacher. She could even hear him saying that in her mind, accent and all. Harlow shuddered. No, instead, she would figure this out on her own.

She had a low grade Oblivion power herself. She'd normally use it in conjunction with Obfuscate to hide herself from her prey. But now her goal was different.

She sat in the corner of her room, activating and dissipating the shadows as much as she could to expose herself to their unfettered qualities. For the past two days, this led to only making herself hungrier and an isolated incident in which she accidentally startled Stepford. It was like trying to read a book the size of a fingernail.

But on the third day, something was different. She wasn't able to read the text of this book, per se. But squinting into the shadows, Harlow found that something was squinting back at her.

She jumped up from her corner and screamed. When confronted about it later, Harlow simply waved her hand and said, "Malkavian things."

But the knowledge that something more was out there, something big and terrifying and ontologically irrational, never quite faded away.

[autumnalwalker]

Find the Word Tag

Thank you for the tag, @druidx.

My words to find were advice, attitude, article, & ability.

Passing the tag to @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @cljordan-imperium, @winterandwords, @sleepyowlwrites, @writernopal, and an open tag for anyone else who wishes to participate.

Your words shall be complain, class, caught, & crack.

Advice: The Archivist's Journal, Day 59

The old guard, hints of irritation beginning to show, said outsiders are always going on about that.  Complaining that things don’t make sense.  Never stopping to consider that maybe things just don’t make sense to them.  Rarely able to accept that things are what they are and getting consumed looking for answers that aren’t there, usually dragging others down with them.

He paused for a moment, sighed, and then in a more sympathetic tone he told me that the outsiders that live the happiest lives here are the ones who learn to simply accept the world as it is and be at peace with that.  By all means, go out and explore, see what’s out there and find sights that no one’s seen before.  But just worry about the What and the Where of things.  Don’t obsess over the Why and the How or else one day I’ll be throwing myself into the Endless Abyss or losing myself in Cloud Tower.

As he turned to leave after imparting that advice, I asked him if he was keeping something from me.

Without turning around he asked me why I bothered to say that.  If he wasn’t hiding anything he’d tell me he wasn’t, and if he was hiding something he’d just lie and say the same thing anyway.  And even if I came to the conclusion that he was hiding something, I’d have no way of getting it out of him.  I have no way of knowing for sure one way or the other, so I may as well believe what makes me happiest.  Just like everything else.  Mysteries don’t have to have answers.

And then he stepped out onto the street and closed the door behind him, leaving me still standing in my own doorway at the top of the stairs.

What do I even say to that?

Attitude: The Archivist's Journal, Day 113

Mists are out this morning.  Apparently that means no class today.  No parent wants to risk having their kid get lost in the misty streets and wandering around until nightfall.  Makes for an awkwardly stilted start to the school season, but it is what it is.

Heh, “it is what it is.”  What a strange thing to say about shades of the dead rising from supernatural mists twice a month to drag anyone they find down to the underworld.  How easily the fantastical becomes mundane when you encounter it on a regular basis.  How neatly a horror becomes an inconvenience once you learn how to easily and consistently avoid its danger.  At one time the villagers’ matter-of-fact attitude toward mist nights struck me as uncanny, but the longer I live here the more sense it makes.

It occurs to me that while I’ve spent a few mist days in the Village proper before, I’ve not gone mist giant watching from here.  I wonder if I’ll see any out over the sea.

Article: The Archivist's Journal, Day 20

Thus I waded into the shallowest part of the waves, staring out to sea as the push and pull of the sand around me slowly sank my feet into the ground.  As I watched the waves it occurred to me that it wasn’t simply a matter of wave-in-wave-out-repeat.  One wave would break while the previous wave was still stretching itself up the beach.  So you’d get multiple distinct layers of water coming in forming visible terraces reaching you as multiple impacting walls, almost less flowing in as stacking as they hit first your ankles, then your shins, then your knees, before pulling back away, taking the sand from beneath your heels with them causing you to sink lower and reflexively wiggle your ankles to dig the fronts of your feet deeper as well until they reach a comfortable even level.

Eventually I’d sunk low enough, or perhaps the tide was coming in enough, that my reverie was broken by the now wet hem of my chiton sticking to my legs.  Seeing no one else about, I took this as a cue to strip the garment off and place it on the rock with the rest of my things.  Now down to my smallclothes and the probably sort of magic jewelry from the ruins, I indulged myself with wading out deep enough to swim.  Those latter articles I’d considered leaving behind as well for fear of losing them but I had a theory I wanted to test with the ring and with my being alone out here it seemed prudent to have a safety mechanism to let someone know if something went unexpectedly wrong.  And besides, both the ring and the bracelet (if I pushed it far enough up my arm at least) fit surprisingly snug for how comfortable they were to wear.  While easy to take on and off intentionally, I’d tried some earlier tests with just shaking my arm around or trying to get them caught on things and they seemed remarkably resistant to falling off unintentionally.  Further evidence that magic is a thing that exists here?

But back to the water.  It’s a funny thing.  I hadn’t swum ever since washing up here, and indeed that method of arrival didn’t do much to suggest I was good at it, yet on some level I knew it was a thing I could do.  And indeed, once my feet were no longer in contact with the sandy floor, there was a freeing sense of elation.  Of coming back to a place that you didn’t realize how much you missed.  I found myself letting out an involuntary but jubilant laugh as I bobbed in the waves.  Feeling an old forgotten instinct I took a breath, closed my eyes, dove underwater, and began to spin around until I could no longer hold my breath and was forced to surface.  As I surfaced with my wet hair stuck to my face from the submarine spinning, it struck me that this sensation was an unfamiliar one, as if in whatever life I’d had before this it was a great deal shorter, but this sense of difference somehow felt right in the same way that the reassuring nostalgia of swimming was.  I am no great swimmer, but still, there is something wonderful about reveling in the simple joy of movement untethered from the earthly pull of gravity.

Ability: Empty Names - 12 Houseguests

Trembling, he pulls down another book at random.  Whispers of the Sun: A comparative study of pyromantic traditions.  This one seems safe enough.  No hints of double meanings in the subtitle to indicate the sort of assault on the senses contained within the last several volumes.  As he cracks the tome open he feels the tingle of a tripped ward just in time to turn the book away from him and direct the burst of flame from the pages safely out over the balcony and into empty space.

This is far more like what he had expected to find here and that eases his frayed nerves.  The book itself is warm but undamaged by the fire it just expelled and an ashy aroma fills Ashan’s nostrils as he flips through the pages to skim the contents.  Comparisons of flames summoned from other planes with flames born from an attunement with nature and drawn from one’s own body.  Theoretical extrapolations of a lost formula whose only remaining record is a photograph of a back-covering tattoo that was half-destroyed by burn scars.  Steps to a dance choreographed from the flight of dragons.  Teleological implications of phoenix rebirth cycles.

Yes, this is the sort of knowledge that belongs in the private library of one of the greatest mages of this era.  Not what had filled that first shelf the manor’s maintenance golem had guided him to when he asked to see the Bridgewood library as had been agreed upon as payment for his services.  Calmer now, he wonders if that had been some sort of prank.  True, finding fiction literature (he truly hopes it was fiction) rather than purely useful arcane texts was not entirely surprising given the size of the library, but for the first book he pulled (and second and third and oh gods why the fourth) to be erotica rather than esoterica had shaken him.  It was not just the content itself but the fact that it was so utterly at odds with his mental image of the sorceress Bridgewood and the very idea of an arcane library.  By the time he reached the third book and found its prose to be as hackneyed as its content was graphic he was starting to question if he was hallucinating, or perhaps caught in an illusion covering up the true text.

Most likely, it was just the one shelf.

Still, he thinks he shall content himself with reading this tome for a time before he attempts further perusal of the library’s collection.  Conjuring fire is well outside his normal area of interest but perhaps it is time that he finally diversify outside of his teacher’s specialty.  After all, is it not said that an anchor mage’s greatest strength is the ability to combine magic systems from multiple worlds?  And besides, the mention he glimpsed of conceptualizing the sun as both the ultimate flame and the source of all life in order to apply pyromantic arts to healing might prove to be less distasteful to him than yet another tool of destruction.

[inavagrant-a]

"Do you wanna talk about it..?" [From Space Dad]

@unboundtravels

The snapping of the wood under the fierce burn of the flames of the fire that had been set up for the night is the only sound within their space amidst the wilderness of Inazuma. Being here... it makes Tetsuya more quiet than usual, unsettling so. It made him more on edge, the blade that he is, the edge sharpens anew, the barbed wire that surrounds him becomes larger and its sharpness will cut with newfound vigor to which Tetsuya will not apologize for to whoever attempts to reach in. In his silence, his mind is loud and in quiet protest he throws another log of wood into the flames so it can be consumed for his ever watchful pleasure if only to prevent his mind from consuming him into its own personally made abyss.

With him a man, forged and dented by many a celestial and cosmic matters that Tetsuya is still to grasp, but those details aren't something he's paying any particular attention to at this time, not when his mother creator is but a few hours away from where he is. His change in character, in his behavior, is all too obvious even to those inept of emotion. Even if Tetsuya would prefer that attention not be aimed at him, he supposes with this individual that's going to be impossible. Tetsuya frowns looking over at Goth, the bluntness of the question something that he did not expect... but appreciates nevertheless. Individuals who peek from behind bushes are the ones that annoy him the most, after all.

He keeps his peace, not in consideration or contemplation, but only because he wants to keep his peace, he wants to be quiet. Being in Inazumen soil brings back many a things all at once at forefront of his mind that, to his credit, is never truly empty.

The wanderer's frown softens, not out of tenderness, but out of a weariness of the soul, perfectly shaded over by his kasa as he rests his chin on the hand of the arm that's propping on his knee, turning his gaze elsewhere. "No." What is there to talk about anyway? The past is the past, even if he's the only one who's carrying it in his memory.

[creators-novel]

The party traverses through the gales of inky storm clouds and fissured Spaces. Figuring that since they first encountered Vyz on their way to find Zeus, they headed in the direction of Feros’ workshop as best as they could remember. As if they didn’t find it on a whim in the first place, it was hard to tell where anything was anymore. Everything was all out of order and misplaced. Vyz must have been trying to throw them off the trail. In a vast Multiverse, it’s already easy enough to get lost. This was ridiculous!  

The beach where Straus and Red had first met seemed to have been picked up and carried some miles away from where it once stood. And forget about the village surrounding it; everyone could only make out a few buildings that were still in one piece among the wreckage.

They passed by the area where Koto first ended up after being cast away from her family. Straus was probably the only one to notice, but didn’t want to mention it. It’s unknown if Koto, at the time, recognized the splintered mess.

Somehow, they even ended up in Gaia’s Space. If this place wasn’t already unnerving to the tiring travelers, this took the cake. He likely knew that this place belonged to a daughter of Jupiter, so he took special care in making sure it was near obliterated.

But even that doesn’t compare to what he did to Jupiter’s old residence. The entire area reeked of the void, not a speckle of orange hues remained. Infectious tones of purple and fuchsia lined the walls and ground; and the party had to take special care here to not fall into the many chasms that formed, while still fighting off the invading Stygians.

How long did they wander for? Days, weeks? Certainly not months, right? They didn’t have time! Fighting all these Stygians and creatures of the Void, losing the path, and finding it again, over and over and over…! It was only a matter of time before Vyz controlled everything, they had to hurry! They had to keep going, they had to trudge forward, if they don’t then the whole Multiverse would be-

…

They found it.

“So, that’s what’s left of Feros’ place? ...huh…”, says Straus, observing the corpse of Feros’ lair.

Exisite uneasily looks around, “DarkClaw explained this story of this place not too long ago. I didn’t think it was real…not until now, anyway.”

“Welcome to my world, I guess.”, sighs Straus.

“Disrepair” is an absolute understatement at this point, it’s a stretch to even call it a residence anymore. Regardless of Vyz’s takeover, the damage he did to this once-looming building seemed to be fueled by something more than just helping Koto deal with Feros. And speaking of Koto, being back here hurts her the most. Their attention is not on the rubble, but on what surrounds it; the last remnants of her youth are now cold, dark, and still.

Uriel keeps close to Koto and holds her hand, “Koto, is this…?”

“…”

“Woah…”

“What?”, asks Luna.

“This is-“, Uriel starts, “Er- this was, Koto’s Homeworld.”

Luna gulps, “Oh…”

“Don’t worry, guys.” Koto says, returning from her daydream-like state, “When all of this is over, I’ll make sure to show you the sky I grew up with.”

Straus walks up next to her, “And I’ll help you bring that sky back.”

“Mm-hm.”, she smiles.

Amadi closes his eyes and nods with approval, “Admirable.”

Straus points ahead, “Let’s keep moving. Lord knows this place could be swarmed with those monsters too.”

“Right!”, cheers Koto.

            And so, the group continues to traverse through the dusky, sludge-like abyss. From here, things to be simpler. Now that they’re getting close to the presumed source of this whole mess, more perceptive members of the party began to notice a pattern in the way the grounds splinter up and out… Aha! It’s a ripple effect! Well, easy enough then, all they need to do is keep following the path of destruction and they’ll find Vyz in no time at-

“Wait-!”, Straus puts his arms out and halts everyone.

Oh, what now?

“What’s wrong?”, asks Nova.

Straus takes a shaky step back, “…Solid ground literally ends where I stand.” The others carefully peek around him. Sure enough, they look down over the side of a sheer cliff, and it is a long…long way down. Azura perks up and points ahead, “Look down there. We could use those floating rocks!” Nathaniel grumbles, annoyed, “This feels like one of those video games. Is he trying to play with us?”

“It sort of looks fun.”, says Melanie, supposedly unbothered.

“Says you!”, Luna squeaks, “Most of you can fly, or are at least confident in your jumping skills…”

“I can carry you if you want!”, Uriel happily volunteers.

“Works for me…”

“Well”, Koto ponders, “If anyone else is afraid, they can be carried by someone else, right?”

Straus thinks out loud while staring over the edge, “I mean… I guess I inherited flight from my mom? But she has to use her wings for that…”

“So, why don’t you use yours?”, Amadi wonders.

Straus turns to face him, unamused and a bit flustered, “Must we really discuss this NOW??”

“Ehem.”, Exisite grabs the others’ attention, then raises himself into the air using his powers, “Anyone up for lifts?”

“Woah…!”

Koto claps, “Perfect!”

“Hmph. I got this!”, Nathaniel bravely announces before jumping off the cliffside and landing on one of the many platforms. After getting his balance, he starts to confidently jump from one to the other. “Wait for me!”, Kali excitedly calls, hastily going after her brother. “GUYS! Don’t go too far ahead!”, Koto shouts. “Yeah, yeah! Sorry!”, Kali’s teasing voice carriers through the gorge on a barely audible echo.

            One by one, the rest of the incarnates and Red set off across the rocky bridge (or lack thereof). This leaves Straus and Koto to be carried by Exisite. The two, not being used to this kind of weightlessness, end up turning themselves around a couple of times, but end up getting the hang of stabilizing themselves. “You’ve got quite the finesse with your powers, Exisite.”, Straus says with a happy grin. “I learned from the best.”, he says in return. “Yeah!”, Ex cheers.

And the journey continues onwards. But as the party falls silent to focus on traversing the unsteady path, eventually, a thought pops into Koto’s head.

“Hm…there’s something that’s bugging me.”

“Wha?”, asks Uriel.

“Castor and Straus are practically the same. If I remember correctly, they have basically the same DNA…so, like- are they brothers? Or is Castor Straus’ actual, biological son in a sense?”

Red skitters onto a rock and trips a bit upon hearing that. Then, after a moment, she blushes and flashes a cat-like smirk at the duo.

“…Reeed…”, Straus also blushes, but out of embarrassment.

Her smile becomes wider.

“Red, no!”

“He’s our baby boyyy!”

“NO-!”

Exisite facepalms, “Oh boi…”

            Farther and farther our heroes go, deeper and deeper into the depths of Vyz’s twisted realms. As they continue, the road ahead only seems to get more treacherous, with new obstacles beginning to appear.

“Tss-!”, Kali shivers, “It’s getting cold out here.”

“Really?”, asks Melanie, stepping from one stone to another, “It doesn’t feel so terrible to me…”

“Yeah- well, you wear a cape with a sweatsuit.”

“Kali, you have your jacket, right?”, Straus points out.

“Yeah but- Weugh-!!”, she nearly falls, but clings onto one of the rocks just in time, “I can’t exactly put it on right now!”

“Is it just me, or…”, Nova jumps, “Hup! Or are the rocks getting a lot smaller too?”

“It’s a bit concerning.”, says Azura as he wobbles between two of the small stones.

Red hops to the front of the group. “Hey, look! Let’s land over here everyone, there’s another path!”

“Oh, thank god this is over!”, Kali trembles.

[kitsuvil]

"i did it for fun, right?"-scaramouche

♡

warnings; scaramouche/genshin spoilers, angst, suicide, psychosis, losing control of yourself, delusions, murder, choking, etc.

"One last time, please," he mumbles to himself under the frail cover of the moonlit sky. "I don't want to run out of time yet."

He's felt this way for a while now. Ever since he ran away with the gnosis finally in his hands. Finally. He was a god. He was himself, so why did it feel like he was rotting from the inside out. Why wouldn't the gnosis accept him. That wench's puppet can have all that power, and he doesn't get anything?

"Mother, you've really made things hard for me here." He chuckles before throwing the gnosis down to the ground for the thousandth time today. But of course the gods didn't like him. They would never accept him. He's created more chaos than those 7 failures, yet they continue to think he's not enough.

All because he doesn't have a heart.

He deserves the biggest apology for what he's gone through, but the glowing green vision sitting on the ground — tossed aside after multiple futile attempts to break it — reminds him of how much celestia likes to prod hundreds of imaginary drills into his automaton body. When he gets his hands on that anemo archon, he will never let him see the light of day.

"Should've been me instead of Signora in Mondstadt. She died anyway, couldn't have been worth much if she was that easy to defeat. I would've gone to see the battle with my own eyes, if I was curious enough. But I couldn't let it get in the way of my plans. I couldn't see her again either."

The fatui are all a bunch of foolish idiots, responding to one ruler without question just because it benefits them. Disgusting. If it were up to him, he would send them on the worst missions just so they can get sick of it and leave. He was tired of getting thrown around just for some ideal "queen," who couldn't even face her loyal servants and conveyed her messages through her best buddy Pierro. Truly, there were better things to do.

Such as, finding a way to claim this damn gnosis for himself. As much as he relished in the feeling of being the current owner of the electro gnosis, it wouldn't mean anything if the Traveler came and took it before he could take advantage of this magical chess piece.

"If this shit doesn't work..." He mumbles to himself, picking it up from the floor. Once again, just like every other time, he clasps his hands over the gnosis and tries to form a connection with it. This time, unlike the rest, he feels an overwhelming sense of fatigue and anger. Then he passes out.

The immense pain in his chest accompanied by the ringing in his ears that travels through his whole body are enough to make him want to knock out again. If he got the chance to live absolutely any other life, he wouldn't hesitate. In this one, he cannot die. He cannot feel anything other than pain. He opens his eyes to face an empty abyss, nothing but him and the gnosis.

To him, it's obvious.

The gnosis is finally making it clear that there's no way for him to accept the electro powers. Fine. Make it that way. But he won't let celestia see the the end of it. He will make them pay, he doesn't care how long it takes or who he has to hurt in the process.

While his inner monologue grows he's forced to ignore the small ragged gasps escaping his mouth though the feeling of his throat closing up was clear and unforgettable. It felt as if an invisible entity was gripping his neck with their fingers, squeezing as tight as they could. Memories of his past flashed before his darkening eyes. His birth, creation. Getting abandoned by the mother that was supposed to look after him. Wandering for years until he was taken in, thinking he could create a new beginning for himself. But instead of a new beginning, he was met with someone's final ending. Katsuragi's death. All he remembered after his death was a big mess of blood and disappointment. He couldn't rely on anyone but himself, they'd just leave. They all deserved the pain and death that he brought to them. Even if they didn't do anything wrong, they were part of the problem. Part of the reason everyone betrayed him.

Before he could think, he was scratching at his throat, grasping for any chance to breathe. He couldn't see anything, the entire void of his memories was all a big blur. He could only feel the chains wrapping around his heart and the aching in his lungs.

He thrashed around for a while, before finally giving up and accepting the tears that slid down his face like burning fire as his vision faded into black.

When he came to, the first thing he could smell was the stench. The stench of rot and blood. The sound of running water. He was in a shallow lake filled with more blood than water from the multiple bodies piled up all around him. Bodies of innocent people.

It starts as a silent chuckle, but quickly he's laughing as if he was just told the funniest joke in the world. That joke was him.

"Please, I don't want to do this anymore. I just want peace. How could anyone ever deal with this. I want a heart. I don't understand."

But instead of panicking, he reassures himself. "Haha, it's fine, I did it for fun, right? I had a fun time, right? It was good while it lasted?"

In front of him, a glowing purple chess piece. The gnosis that Kunikuzushi could never claim as his own.

"What is the point. I give up." He gets up from the bodies, not cleaning himself up at all and starting to walk. Anywhere would be better than here. He doesn't care. The anger and resentment broke him, leaving only an empty shell. Dried tears lay on his face as he wanders aimlessly through the moonlit night.

[mercy-burning]

Affection

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer and Y/N decidedly hate each other. But when a near-death experience puts one of them in a coma, their mutual hatred might have to take a backseat— Or will it? Category: Angst / Happy Ending! + Humor and a lil bit of Fluff Content: Strong language, Reader is in a coma, mentions of injury, kissing Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This one’s for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) September Writing Challenge, Enemies To Lovers! I have another one coming up as well, but this idea wouldn’t get out of my head ever since I watched The Abyss with my dad and I had to get it out 😅 I hope you like it!!

———

I swear to fucking God, if this motherfucker really thinks he—

That was the last thing Y/N thought before she was knocked out cold.

With her line of work, it was natural to assume that she was thinking about the unsub, but unfortunately the criminal she and her team were tracking down was the farthest thing on her mind. Spencer would have chastised her for it— letting something else cloud her thoughts while she was in a dark alley, alone, and with a serial killer on the loose.

"You should be smarter than that!" she could hear him say in that high pitch he always carried when he was upset— especially with her. "If you don't get yourself killed one of these days, then it'll be the rest of us!"

Thinking about it made her blood boil.

"It's your fault," she wanted to tell him. "I had to blow off some steam because you were pissing me off!"

The only thing was... She couldn't tell him.

Well... She could.

He just couldn't hear her, because no one could.

It was like some stupid, cliché movie, where you found yourself standing over your dying body and having to choose whether to live or not. It seemed like the obvious choice, to fucking live, but... Y/N found herself wandering around her hospital room, yelling into the void and attempting to jump back into her own body.

Nothing was working.

And when Spencer showed up, his face red and his hair and clothes all messed up, she wanted to scream at him.

"Hey!"

Nothing. He was practically lifeless as he drifted to the chair next to her bed and sat down. It was nearly impossible to read from his expression and body language how he was feeling, and that alone was enough to make her angry again. (Not that the anger had really gone away since waking up next to her comatose body, of course.)

"Hey! Dumbass!"

Still nothing.

As Spencer just blankly stared down at Y/N's bed, she decided she'd had enough.

"SPENCER FUCKING REID, IF YOU DON'T HELP ME RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL HAUNT YOUR ASS UNTIL THE END OF ETERNITY, AND I'M GONNA LAY FAT, STINKIN' GHOST SHITS IN YOUR SHOES, DO YOU HEAR ME? AND—"

"I hate you."

It was a bold enough statement to stop Y/N in her tracks, no matter how quietly he'd mumbled it. She knew for sure that he didn't like her, after years of constant bickering and dirty glares and whatever else, but... The word 'hate' was like a knife that sliced through her joking rage and stopped the whole world around her.

If she wasn't already out of her own body, she just knew she would have felt her soul leave.

Spencer didn't hate anyone. Not that she was aware of, anyway. He found nearly everyone delightful, and vice versa... But for some reason, he hated Y/N.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, well... Feeling's mutual, I guess..."

"You're stupid, and reckless, and you don't think. And you're a goddamn nightmare to work with... You know what— You're a stone-cold bitch."

His words made her physically step backwards, and it felt like if she were a cartoon, there might have been steam coming out of her ears.

"Yeah, well jokes on you, you make it easy," she seethed. "Fuck you!"

"How... How dare you..." he continued, anger reddening his face.

Y/N watched as he balled his fists and leaned in a little closer to her body, his voice tight and strained. "How dare you walk into my life and boss me around and make it impossible to breathe... From the moment I met you, you've brought out this... this fire in me that I can't put out no matter how hard I try, and it's insufferable—You're insufferable, and I hate you, how dare—"

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a shortness of breath. Spencer breathed in, loud and choked, and the next breath he let out was nothing short of a sob. His eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down them and his hands clutched the bedsheets with a vigor and rage that Y/N had never seen from him, even in all the years she'd spent visibly getting on his last nerves.

"N—No," she choked out, feeling her throat tighten. "Don't... Don't turn into a sappy mess on me now, do you hear me, Reid? You hate me, don't... Don't..."

"I don't hate you," he whispered, wiping his eyes and reaching out to grab her lifeless hand. "I hate that you make me feel this way, but... I could never hate you..."

She wanted nothing more than to be able to squeeze his hand back, to tell him, not even necessarily with words but with a simple gesture, that she was right there and wasn't going to go anywhere.

She just... had to figure out how to make that true.

Still, Spencer kept going, a small laugh bubbling up through tears and phlegm. "But I will hate you if you die, because I just know you're gonna come back and haunt me for eternity... Probably... shit in my shoes or something."

Y/N barked a laugh that was true and pure... Happy, even.

The genius may have acted like he hated her, but it turns out he knew her pretty well, perhaps even fondly in one way or another.

To think— All those years she spent seeing him sneer at her, feeling his glare burn into her soul, the amount of times she caught him making faces or inappropriate gestures behind her back, all of it... And the whole time, he was probably doing it with a little flicker of fondness deep within the confines of his heart, which he swore to fill with nothing but hatred for her.

The thought made the little flicker in her own heart burn brighter.

As she wandered closer to her bed, beside Spencer and in front of her own body, she reached her hand out to see if she could touch his face, to give him something...

Even though she had no luck, something shifted when he spoke.

"Just... Come back to me, please? I know I'm not good at apologizing, but if it means I get you back... I swear that I will make up every horrible thing I've ever done or said to you. Just... Please don't leave me."

He laid his head down in his hands and tried not to cry again, every said horrible thing replaying on a loop in his brain like some kind of taunt. He wished more than anything for a chance to make it up to Y/N, and now he might not ever be able to.

"You think I'd leave this mortal earth without getting the chance to kick your ass?"

Everything was so fuzzy and light and brimming with these high emotions that Y/N almost didn't realize she was saying these words and Spencer was hearing them. She almost didn't feel the warmth of her bloodstream beneath layers of skin, the beat of her heart slowly coming back to life at the sounds and smells of the hospital room.

She almost didn't realize that Spencer was grabbing her now, his warm hands covering her cold ones and bringing them back to life as well.

"Screw you," he breathed with absolutely no malice to be detected in his voice.

They shared a smile so bright, no one would have been able to guess that they never got along.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Not only was she stuck at home doing nothing while on suspension (Yes, it turns out that storming off into an alley and not paying attention while on the job, just because a co-worker pissed you off, can get you suspended by Chief Strauss), but Y/N was also being visited by a daily rotation of her co-workers and friends and family, and her house was nearly covered in flower bouquets and baked goods.

It was a nightmare.

The sentiment was nice, sure, but if she had to move one more vase, she was going to start throwing them.

God, maybe Spencer was right, I am a stone-cold bitch...

Thinking of him also put a little damper on her mood.

He hadn't been to visit her once... And she figured that after their nice little moment at the hospital, he'd at least stop by with flowers or an "I'm glad you're not dead!" call, but there was nothing on his end. Not even a text message or a letter.

But for all she knew, their small moment of kindness could have been a figment of her concussed imagination.

Please, she thought, if I brought it up to him he'd probably just laugh in my face.

Rather than a laugh, Y/N heard the bright sound of her doorbell, which normally would have meant a fun unexpected visit or a date she was getting ready for, but by now it only meant another vase of flowers or a pie from a neighbor she still didn't remember the last name to.

Either way, she answered the door with as polite a smile as she could muster, and instead of finding a vaguely familiar neighbor or acquaintance, she found Spencer.

Though, to be fair, he was holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Well, this is a surprise," Y/N drawled, crossing her arms. "I don't even think you've ever been to my house."

She was surprised to see him nervous around her, rather than irritated. And she would have found it endearing had they not been practically mortal enemies from the moment they met... She was suspicious.

"O—Oh, yeah... I know, I just thought... I wanted to come see how you were doing... These are for you."

He held out the flowers, which were truthfully the pretties set she'd received, and it irked her. Because of course he of all people would be the one to tell which kinds of flowers she'd prefer.

"Thanks," she said, taking them from him and allowing him the space to come inside. "Watch out, it's a maze in here..."

While she looked for somewhere to put the flowers on display, she could feel Spencer looking around her space, probably profiling what he could behind a sea of flowers.

"Hm."

Y/N sighed. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just... I'm surprised this many people actually like you."

Despite the nature of his observation, she found it comforting. That level of playful contempt was what she was used to, and it brought a sparkle to her eye as she turned to face him. "Ha... I'm not a complete bitch, you know."

"Sure."

Between the growing grin on his face and the smirk forming on her own, Spencer and Y/N found themselves falling back into a familiar rhythm. And yet, something about it was still... different.

So much so that Y/N felt honest-to-God butterflies in her stomach when he approached, hands retreating from his pockets and head tilting off to the side. His expression held that look he got when he was trying to figure someone out, usually an unsub. She hated to admit it to herself, but a little part of her always found that side of him extremely attractive.

And now that it was right in front of her?

She didn't know what to make of it.

"What?" she snapped, looking for an excuse to hide any and all attraction she was feeling.

Spencer stepped back a little, breaking away from whatever trance he'd just been in. "God, why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"You push away every single show of affection! Any time I'm trying to be nice, you just act like it's some big inconvenience to you!"

Y/N laughed. "Ha! That's what that was? Just now? When you insulted me, and then started stalking towards me with that look you get when you're interrogating an unsub? That's what you call affection?"

"That's not... That's not what that was!"

"Oh really? Then what was it?"

"It was part of the routine! Banter! Y—You know, that's our thing! We insult each other, and we act like we hate each other but we... We don't, really..."

The longer he went on, the faster her heart raced. This was the moment in the movie where he inevitably blurted out that he loved her, and in turn she would either kiss him or slap him, or slap him and then kiss him...

But Y/N was still feeling rather playful despite the swarm of butterflies in her stomach begging for some relief.

"Oh?" she prompted, taking a slow step closer to him. "We don't?"

Spencer seemed to get red immediately, and he avoided her eyes. "U—Uh... Well I... I thought... Maybe I read it all wrong, a—and I'm sorry if I did..."

She'd been getting closer meanwhile, and now they were practically toe-to-toe. He did his best to ignore her, taking a few steps back until she cornered him against the front door. And with the way he wasn't doing anything to get out of his predicament, she took that as his acceptance and took another leap.

"What..." she cooed, crawling her fingers up the front of his chest like a spider. "You like me? Hmm?"

When he finally looked down at her, she allowed herself to smile, albeit slowly and with calculation.

In a flash Spencer went from nervous to fed-up, weight seeming to visibly lift from his chest as he sank against the door. "You're messing with me..."

"It's so fun."

"You know what, screw you."

"Is that a promise?"

"Maybe it is. What are you gonna do ab—"

She didn't let him finish.

In an instant, Y/N lunged forward and pulled him down for a kiss.

Even though she thought he might have tried to take control of the situation, he ended up surprising her with a wanton moan as his hands clutched at her sides, holding on for dear life. Their bodies and tongues collided in a mess of years worth of pent-up tension, chaotic and wild and fiercely beautiful in a way that put even the greatest first kisses to shame.

And of course, Spencer had to go and ruin it.

He pushed her away and looked almost panicked. "W—Wait, are you even cleared to do this?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, reaching out for him again. "I'm fine."

"Y/N, you were in the hospital! I thought... I thought you were..."

She appreciated the sentiment, but with her entire body on fire from his touch, she decided she needed more of it. "Yeah, but I'm not... I'm very much alive, and you know what?"

He blinked back at her, watching carefully as she leaned in close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It's because of you. You make me feel... more alive than I've ever been."

"And... You're not messing with me this time?"

With a laugh,  Y/N shook her head and leaned up to brush her nose with his. "Nuh-uh... But if you'd like to, I'd love to mess with you in a more fun way. And maybe I'll even let you do it back..."

Spencer hummed, feeling himself gravitate towards her more with every passing second. "Deal."

He barely got the word out all the way before she was dragging him through the maze of flora and contained food and into her bedroom, where piece by piece, their hatred and fondness for one another combined to create the most exquisite of nights.

———

PERMANENT TAGLIST:  @elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @ssacalumsg0lden @emilyprentisslittlewhore @takeyourleap-of-faith @reidyoulikeabook @spencerreid9 @b-a-utiful @jareauswifey @flipperpenguins @pansexualthing @donald4spiderman @awesomebooklover17​ @shemarmooresfedora @izraahh1 @bakugouswh0r3 @singularityjc @xoxospencerreid @thatsonezesty13 @big-galaxy-chaos @mggskneescrews @youabitchhhh @spencersjello @moonlight-2-6 @starrylang @foreveryoungxx3 @spencerreidscoffeecup @morganwilliams  @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @gubswh0re @mrsobrien888  @umbreonwolfy 

TAGS NOT WORKING: @ayla-1605 @loveeee@2134 @emilyprsntiss

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

[jaedore]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 | 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: jaehyun x reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mythology!au, angst, romance

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, suggestive (just making out lol), mentions of alcohol, violence (mentions of choking)

𝐚/𝐧: if you are uncomfortable with these themes then i highly suggest you no longer interact! also, thoughts/emphasis are italicized. I'll just put the header on when I have the patience bc I felt like this is long overdue

[4.5k words]

You woke up finding your body was stiff and sore. It overpowered the pain in your wounded knees that stung with every movement of your limbs. Yesterday seemed like days ago, it felt like a fever dream. No, a nightmare. All you wanted to do was just curl up in bed, but then you remembered that your mother and you were having dinner at Jaehyun’s place. You’ve never gone to the Underworld, you didn’t hear many good things about it and that terrified you. What if Cerberus ate you? What if a wandering, lost soul stole your soul? The questions were endless and it sent you down a spiral of nervousness.

“Y/n?” Your mother softly came in, an apron hung around her neck and the aroma of breakfast food seeped into your room.

“Morning, mom,” you croaked.

“How are you feeling?”

Your mind flashed back to yesterday; Jaehyun in your room, tending your wounds, being flirtatious, or whatever. You remembered it as clear as the Fountain of Youth.

“I’m fine,” you answered, swiping the sheets away from your body to peer at the wounds.

You gently peeled back the bandage a bit only to see that the wound was almost gone. It held a faint discoloration as it was in the process of healing, but you were impressed nonetheless.

“So,” your mother began as she sat on the edge of your bed, “tonight, I was thinking about bringing a pasta dish. Or should we bring a cake? A pie maybe?”

“We can just pick up a pie from the bakery,” you brushed your hand in the air, dismissing any ideas, “it’ll be easier anyways.”

“Ah, yes. Hades does like his spicy chocolate pies,” your mother hums as she smoothes her palm against your bedsheet.

“Ugh, I don’t know how he eats that stuff,” you grumble, swinging your legs off your bed.

“Well, he is the God of the Underworld,” she raises both of her eyebrows at you, “so, what will you be doing today? It’s super nice out.”

Peering at your window, the sun shines brightly in the sky. The sky is bare of clouds and it does seem like a beautiful day today. You can imagine yourself sitting in the grass with a book in your palms. But you had more important things to do today, like beating the shit out of Maeve.

Your shoulders slump as you reply, “I’m going to go train with Mark.”

“You’re always training with that boy,” she narrows her eyes at you, “are you in love with him?”

“Mother!” You raise your voice, snapping your head to her, “No, I am not.”

Athena only laughs at your reply as she gets up and makes her way out of your room.

“Hey, Y/n?” her voice stops you before you step into the bathroom.

“Yes, mom?”

“You know you can tell me anything right?” she asks, her voice sweet and loving.

You nodded, recalling the things that happened last night at the beach. You haven’t told her and she must be worried, but you’re too drained and confused to spill it. So you spare her a small smile as you walk into the bathroom, not saying a word about what happened.

--

“Come on! You can hit harder!”

Annoyed at Mark’s ‘words of encouragement’, you purse your lips as you attempt to hit the boxing pad with your mitts. You were beginning to get tired, your arms burned from the repetitive movements and your knees ached as it chased after your feet. Mark hasn’t given you a break since you’ve gotten here and it’s almost been an hour of constant hitting.

Growing frustrated, you shouted in protest, “I’m done!” you throw your mitts on the dirt.

Mark sighs, seeing the frustration in your eyes, “Okay, what’s really going on?”

You exhale a short breath, “Nothing you’d be interested in,” you answer him sharply as you walk towards one of the rocks to sit on. Mark follows you closely, but quietly afraid to set off the fuming bomb of anger you always held.

“You know,” he starts, “I’ve heard a lot of mysterious things about you,” he plops right next to you.

You curl your legs up to your chest as you stare forward at the waterfall, “Like what?” you mumble, really not interested in what he’s heard because it’s all been bad stuff.

“You tell me,” Mark shrugs.

You tighten your hold on your legs, “I think someone’s out to get me,” you whisper.

Mark leans in to hear you clearer, “Maeve?” he whispers back.

You shudder, her name bringing back awful memories, “Yeah, but I’m not sure why. I have nothing that has to do with her. Sure, I provoked her on the first day, but...it wasn’t severe to draw it out this far.”

Mark’s eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?”

You explained what happened last night at the beach party. You quivered as you retold the story from your perspective. It was a vivid nightmare that you didn’t know how to wake.

“Where is Lucas now?” Mark asked.

You fumed at the male’s name. He hasn’t texted or called you since last night. He would be the key to all of your answers, but he wouldn’t answer any of your messages or calls. Lucas was friendly, always nice, and shined bright like the sun. You just wondered what he was up to.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, picking up the mitts from the ground, “come on. We came here to train. Plus, I want to forget it all.”

Mark quickly jumps to his feet, “do you think this has anything to do with the feud between Hades, your mother, and her’s?”

You tilted your head to the side, “What feud?”

Mark smirked, “Guess you don’t know then.”

“Mark,” you lowered your voice when he dismissed your question, “what. Feud?”

“I’ll tell you if you can beat me,” he said, picking up the other pair of mitts that laid on the ground.

--

Storming into your house, you shouted, “Why didn’t you tell me about the feud you had with Hades and Eris?”

Taken aback, she looked at you with wide eyes, almost dropping the spoon she held, “w-what are you talking about?”

You inhaled, “Why didn’t you tell me that after the Titan War, Hades, and apparently Zeus, imprisoned Eris in Tartarus? And that you were helping them and now she’s after me, possibly because of it?”

“Who told you that?” your mother calmly put down the spoon and rubbed her palms on her thighs.

“Does that really matter right now, mom?” your voice rose in anger.

“Sit down,” she wipes her hand on a napkin, discarding it as she walks towards you, who begins to be seated at the dinner table.

“Eris and I were good friends, we trained together as kids. She was good, almost better than me, but there was always the tension of competition between us. One could only be good in the eyes of Zeus so we grew up and trained with that mindset. As we got older, we were still good friends, but there was always that silent tension between us. When the Titan war came to be, Eris rebelled and fought against us,” your mother sighed, anguish tainting the streaks of her face, “I tried everything in my power to persuade her to fight with us, to be on our side, but that’s when she said all of the things that were never said. That I was the favorite, I was the best only because I was the favorite, I was only fighting along Zeus because he favored me more than her. Not because I was good or tactful, she disregarded our training together...our friendship, the bond that we had growing up. It was stupid really, but eventually, we beat their army and imprisoned her. According to Zeus, she did more damage during the war that I wasn’t aware of. That’s why she’s imprisoned in Tartarus. I haven’t asked because she’s...she’s dead to me really.”

You leaned back in her seat, realizing that Maeve probably was only acting out of feeling because of the relationship between both of your mothers. Her mother was imprisoned in the deep abyss below the Underworld, while yours lived a perfect, rewarding life.

“Is that why we’re going to the Underworld tonight? To talk to Zeus?” you quietly asked.

Your mother nodded, “I know I should’ve told you. I’m sorry. I just didn’t think of the possibilities of her coming for you through her daughter because of me.”

You shook your head, “It’s fine. I just want this to stop,” your fingertips brushed against your neck.

“Well,” your mother sighed, peering at her watch, “you don’t really have time to get ready, so why don’t you rinse your face from the sweat, and then we’ll pick up the pie and head on down.”

Head on down. You whimpered as you stood up. And it wasn’t because of your sore legs.

As you washed your face, you wondered if Jaehyun would be eating with you guys. You recall that Hades said Jaehyun was always at the Mourning Fields talking to the souls that wandered there. There, holds the souls that wasted their souls on unrequited love. Does Jaehyun love someone? Or does he not? Then you remembered how he took up space in your room last night. His fingertips sent icicle daggers through your skin that you felt their phantom as you wiped your face on the nearby towel. With the hopes of Jaehyun not speaking to you tonight, you braced yourself on the journey of walking down into the Underworld.

--

You jumped back at the sound of barking. Cerberus. The three-headed dog barks at both you and your mother. No matter how powerful your mother, Athena, was, she had no power over a creature created to guard the gates of the Underworld.

“Why isn’t he coming? I rang the doorbell like five minutes ago,” your mother grumbled.

As if on cue, the gates opened and the growling sounds of Cerberus silenced in question.

“They are not the enemy or the dead, Cerberus. They’re our guests.” a voice rang above you. You found out later that the voice belonged to Hades, but you saw Jaehyun stepping out from behind the black, iron gates.

“Good evening, sorry for the wait.” Jaehyun bowed to you both.

Your mother paused, regretting the comment she made before as she saw how handsome Jaehyun was, “You’re Jaehyun, right? You grew up so well.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Tch “ma’am”. As if you actually had manners. You rolled your eyes at his sense of poise. You wonder where he learned such acts in a short amount of time.

Your mother nudged you, “do you have anything to say?” she whispered.

You inhaled a sharp breath, narrowing your eyes at the prideful male in front of you, “Thank you for having us,” you mumbled, barely nodding to him.

“Please, this way.”

Jaehyun led your mother and you towards Hades’ Palace, the stone tower tall enough to peek through the rising fog of the evening. Across the path to the left stood the Judgement Pavilion. Several souls lined up waiting for their next home where they’d be trapped forever. One of the souls snapped their eyes to you as if they knew where you stood, who you were. Their eyes were full of darkness and fury, almost consuming you into a tunnel of doom.

Jaehyun snatched your arm, his grip vice-like, “Don’t look at any soul who hasn’t been through the Judgement Pavilion, it’s their last chance to steal a living being’s soul before they’re judged into exile.” You hadn’t realized it but it was only you and Jaehyun who stood on the pavement that led you to Hades’ Palace.

You looked ahead not seeing her, “Where’s my mom?”

“She already went in. We didn’t even notice you were gone until she asked you something to only find you not behind us.”

You inhaled a sharp breath, “How long have I been standing here?”

“Around five minutes, you didn’t hear me call you?” Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrowed.

Shaking your head in denial you said, “No, I didn’t until you grabbed my arm,” you eyed down to your arm seeing that he still held you. Jaehyun’s grip loosened as he also realized that he hadn’t let go yet.

“Come on, let’s go,” his hand tightened around your arm once again as he dragged you towards the stone palace.

“I can walk myself,” you snapped at him, attempting to yank your arm from his clutch.

Jaehyun turned to you, his eyes cool and icy, sending chills down your spine, “I know,” he lowly said, “but I’m not taking my chances,” he gripped your arm again, leading you to his home.

The moonlight barely shined against the copper stone of his palace, creating sheer darkness looking like it hadn’t been touched for centuries. As unwelcoming as it felt, you could smell the complete opposite; a small scent of mint, the natural smell of tree bark, and the faintest feather of lavender. You glanced forward at Jaehyun, he hadn’t spared you look as you two made your way towards his home.

Jaehyun led you past the Asphodel Meadows, only tugging on your arm harder to bring your senses back. He was right to do so because looking at it was hypnotizing. You were even surprised that the ground-up dirt was able to grow flowers, and not knowing what kind they were, they were the most beautiful you’ve ever seen. The trees that sheltered them were bare of leaves and plants, creating a haunting aura, but it didn’t alarm you enough to look away.

“Come on,” Jaehyun tugged at you once again, this time gaining your attention.

You glared at him making you feel like some child that wasn’t able to concentrate. “What’s down there?”

He glanced back at you, mirroring your expression, “You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t. Now hush, we’re almost there.”

After a few more steps, you both came to face his home. The palace was bigger than you expected as it loomed over you. It felt like you were walking into your own exile.

“I thought you got lost,” your mother called to you as you walked in with Jaehyun behind you.

“She almost did,” he mumbled as he passed you to sit at the dinner table.

“She’s always been a curious one,” your mother laughed.

“That could get you in some serious trouble, girl,” Hades walked into the room with spoons in his hand. The high-pitched cackling sound of the spoon hitting the dishes made you wince, “come sit, it’s almost time to eat.”

Obeying Hades’ words, you idly sat next to Jaehyun with shame settling in your bones because you felt embarrassed that he had to drag your ass back to his place. The skin where his hands once grasped your arm felt tingly and you couldn’t burn it from your mind. It’s not like you and Jaehyun had many encounters, or rather, pleasant encounters, but you can’t help yourself but stare at him from the corner of your eye. Jaehyun sits with poise and pride, but you can see the burden he carries in the way he slightly slouches and the exhausted sigh that wriggles from his lips.

As everyone eats, you can’t help but think what Jaehyun’s thinking about. You can tell he’s thinking about something from the tension in his brow and the small pout coming from his bottom lip. From time to time, you ignore the small moments where his arm or leg brushes against yours or when you both reach for the same dish. And there’s a sort of tension over the table as everyone silently hides their comments as their food reaches their lips.

Hades is the first to speak, “So, I’ve heard you’ve had quite the events lately,” his tone low and cautious.

You clear your throat, “Um, yes.”

You begin to tell him everything that’s happened from the start of Maeve to the event in the Phantasms Forest. Not leaving out a single detail, you didn’t even notice your hands tensing up until you felt warmth from another on top of your chilled skin. Turning to your mother, she nods to you in comfort, letting you know that you’re doing well and you’re strong for facing what you’ve been through. Hades listens closely, not reaching for his food and feeling the slight disgust from those who caused you harm. Truth be told, he knew what was happening and why it was happening to you. Slightly nodding at your mother, they both lifted themselves from their seats and walked out the door leaving you and Jaehyun alone.

You turned to the male to your right, “Where are they going?”

Jaehyun shrugs, grabbing the nearby plates, “Probably to Tartarus.”

“What?” You snapped up on your legs, immediately following him to the kitchen sink, “Why?

“I’m sure you know that’s where they’re keeping Eris,” Jaehyun spares you a glance as he begins soaking a sponge in soap.

“Yeah,” you crossed your arms, “but why are they going down there? To talk to her? What is she going to do? What are they going to do? How long is this going to take?”

Tired of the overload from your questions, Jaehyun turns to you. Unbeknown that you were leaning forward towards him as you spoke, your eyes widened as you came face to face with the hot-headed male. His eyes were a pool of darkness with a hint of brown like melted dark chocolate. You stood in front of him with your feet glued to the ground. Heat radiated off your body as you parted your lips. Jaehyun’s eyes flickered down. He sharply inhaled to only let it out as he turned away and began scrubbing the dishes again.

“Bring the dishes to me and I’ll wash them,” he said before you could turn away from him.

You clutched the collar of your shirt. What was that? Your fingers trembled around a plate when you realized that he didn’t even answer any of your problems.

Setting them on the counter next to him, you snapped, “You didn’t even reply to my questions.”

“You talk too much.”

Stunned, you purse your lips and walk away. He can clean the kitchen by himself. You sat yourself in their living room, plopping yourself on the couch. If it weren’t for the dim lamp that flickered in the far corner of the room, you would’ve walked around blindly. The walls were painted in black, the rug was black, and even the couch you sat on was black. Everything was black like a fire had torn through the palace. The only color that caught your attention was the pictures that sat on top of the unlit fireplace. Making your way towards the photos, you found family photos of Jaehyun and his parents. It looked like a regular family you would suspect in the human world, a mother and father playing with their toddler son in the park. Except it wasn’t a park and it wasn’t a regular family. The field Jaehyun played on was the Field of Asphodel, but it was beautiful, there was greenery, grass, and beautiful flowers that bloomed around little Jaehyun. You wondered what happened to the breathtaking scenery. Your eyes landed on a particular picture that made the corners of your lips lift in the slightest. There, laid little Jaehyun sleeping peacefully in the embrace of Cerberus who also laid in slumber around the little boy, sheltering him from the rain that penetrated to the Underworld. Cute. The faint blur of a finger covered the corner of the picture, you wondered who took this photo. You thought that maybe it was his mother, Persephone, who no one’s heard of for years. The last thing you heard was that Hades kidnapped her after eating six pomegranate seeds and she was forced to live six months in the Underworld and six months in the mortal world, Earth. But she hasn’t returned from her six months on Earth. And it’s been 20 years.

“No, I don’t know where she is, nor do I really care,” Jaehyun said beside you.

Jumping, you didn’t even realize he was there. Holding your chest, you panted, “I didn’t even say anything this time.”

“I know,” he glanced at you, his gaze flickering back to your lips, then lower to your neck, “but you were thinking it.”

“I-”

“Come, I might have some ointment left for your neck,” Jaehyun doesn’t even give you a chance to protest.

Grabbing your wrist, you obediently follow him back into the kitchen.

“Sit,” he commands.

You look around in question, “Where the hell am I going to sit?”

Jaehyun reached up to the upper cupboard, the bottom of his shirt slightly lifting with his shoulders to reveal his back, “on the counter, of course,” you averted your eyes somewhere else when he turned to face you, “unless you want to sit on my lap,” he smirks.

You shake your head, lifting yourself on the counter. Even if you sat on the counter, you were only tall enough to meet him at eye level. Snapping the cap open, the familiar smell of mint and ginger filled your nose as he dipped two fingers in the gooey substance. A very sinful scenario flashed across your mind as he pulled those fingers back out, his digits drenched in the healing fluid. Squeezing your legs together, you cleared your throat as he crept closer to you, but that only led to Jaehyun sliding his free hand around your nape to pull you closer.

“I don’t bite,” he whispers, that smirk returning.

“I didn’t ev-”

You tensed as Jaehyun’s fingertips brushed on your skin to apply the ointment. Both of your bodies were so close to each other, the only blockage being your knees that dug into this stiff abdomen. It also didn’t help that Jaehyun’s face was incredibly close to yours. With one movement, your lips would’ve met.

“Relax,” he whispers, his eyes switching up to meet yours.

Chills shoot down your spine, a sudden heat pooled at the bottom of your stomach at the breeze of his breath. But eventually, you relaxed. Until you felt his hand on your neck rubbing circles. He repeatedly dipped those long digits of his in the ointment and reapplied it to your neck. To be honest, you thought it looked fine, it was still sore and hurt in certain places but it felt like he was lathering you in it. Once in a while, you’d wince at the pressure Jaehyun’s fingertips pressed against some of the bruises.

“Sorry,” he’d murmur. You’d thin your lips but relax as soon as he apologizes, his voice sounding sincere and gentle.

Slightly turning to the side, you let out a troubled breath, sharply inhaling another, repeating those steps over again and again until Jaehyun slowly pulled away. His warm hand slipped from your nape and your breath trembled, the cold air settling on it as soon as he pulled away. You watched him set the ointment back where he got it from, not missing the flutter of his skin that revealed the slight muscles in his lower back. Oh boy, you sighed.

Jaehyun turned back to you, “You alright?”

You nodded, “Will it still be there by tomorrow?”

Jaehyun walked to you as you stayed glued to the counter, he hummed, “Considering that you almost met death twice in the span of two days, it’ll take a few days,” he was closer once again, “just be careful,” his voice in a low whisper.

You could feel his breath brisk your cheeks. You didn’t know if it was your own heat warming you up or the faint warmth of the words that escaped his plump lips. You felt his abdomen on the curl of your knees like before and there wasn’t a way to bring them closer because it’d reveal to him what you were thinking...or feeling. Maybe you weren’t thinking clearly, maybe you were just lonely. But the longer you stayed in front of him, your desire to kiss him grew. He’s been nothing but cold and mean, but he’s been so kind and taking care of you despite his spiteful aura. You sucked in your bottom lip, stopping whatever trembling words attempted to escape from the cage of your tongue.

You sucked in a sharp breath when Jaehyun’s hands slid to your waist.

“Don’t do that,” Jaehyun brought him closer to you, prying your legs open to create space for him.

You sucked in another sharp breath, “Do what?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

Jaehyun seemed to be drawing closer to you, his gaze occasionally glancing at your lips as both of your breaths began to weigh down. Closing your eyes, you swore you felt his lips brush yours until you realized he wasn’t kissing you at all, but instead lifting you until you were back on your feet. With bodies still closer than the stars were to the moon, you tipped your head up to meet his gaze. Already looking at you, Jaehyun let out a heavy sigh.

You should’ve inhaled another breath because the next second, you found yourself against Jaehyun’s lips. Those lips that were so pink and so inviting met yours. It felt like Olympus was on pause and it was just you and him. No Maeve, no darkness, nothing. A heavy sensation of peace settled in the curve of your palms as you dragged them down his chest. You gasped when he bit your lip, sucking and, licking it for permission of entrance and you immediately complied, not giving it any thought at all. Those calloused hands of his wrapped around the small of your back, pulling you closer flush against his body, against his hips. Jaehyun’s tongue danced with yours, a gasp revering the way he held you close to him, the way with each stroke, you moaned enough to satisfy him. Until he pulled away.

With panting breaths and blinking eyes scattering across yours, you could see the panic in his eyes. You could see instant regret that pooled in the darkness of his eyes, yet you couldn’t help but inhale when he stepped away, the heat of his body replaced with his familiar coldness. Your eyes follow Jaehyun as he runs out of his home. Not saying anything to you, but leaving you alone in the darkness of his home. In the Underworld. Standing alone in his kitchen, you could hear the loud beating of your heart penetrating your ears, blocking the sound of droplets from the faucet, the hum of the house, and the confusion in your breath. Your fingers fly to your lips, the feeling burns yours like a scar. Was it something you said? Was it something you did? Gulping, you frantically searched the cupboards for a cup of water, thirst reaching your throat, but instead you found a section that opened up to bottles of whisky and wine.

Even better. Finding a drying cup in the sink, you poured yourself a glass of the bronze liquid, not caring for it’s age or make. You winced as the liquid scorched your throat, coughing at the slightly burning sensation that warmed your mouth, but anything was better than the searing feeling of his lips and the pain of when he pulled away.

[varyen]

home is wherever i’m with you

I wrote a little Childe x Zhongli fic last night. Here’s the AO3 link. Under cut because of lenght. 

It’s the rain, Zhongli thinks, the rain does something to people, especially at night. It has a way of washing away facades and lies and oftentimes brings out confessions between people … — lovers.

The rain is heavy in Liyue this night. 

Zhongli doesn’t remember when the rain started nor does he know when it will end — in his humble opinion, it shall not. There is something peaceful about the rain, the steady sound of drops hitting the soil and the soft smell of rainwater lingering in the air. It’s something so simple and yet so eternal — the rain has always been while the rest around him evolved and changed. 

The streets are empty and cold in Liyue this night, the rain and the freezing wind keeping the people in their homes, tucked away behind their fireplaces and spending the time with their loved ones in privacy rather than out on the streets. 

It’s the same for Zhongli; he likes to believe himself to experience something mortal this night. The simplicity of it; it crawls under his skin.

The window is cracked open just a bit but there are no noises coming from the outside; there is no turmoil, none of the busy noises that usually go hand and hand with Liyue Harbour, the sound of the crowds and people and work. Tonight, there is just the rain. 

 Zhongli sits on the bed, a cup of tea on the nightstand next door to him, the book in his hands open but both long forgotten. 

His attention lies on Childe and Childe alone — the Fatui Harbinger of danger and wrath, sleeping peacefully next to him, his breath even and his legs tangled with Zhongli’s. He’s relaxed against Zhongli and his body rises and sinks in a slow rhythm. His slender fingers are wrapped around Zhongli’s wrists softly, barely holding on.

The delicate sound of the rain falling outside and Childe’s deep, rhythmic breath creates a melody in Zhongli’s head so full of yearning and love that the Archon almost can’t recognize himself.

Is this mortality?, he wonders, his eyes wandering over Childe’s relaxed features, a faint smile covering his face. 

Is this what mortality will be like? Moments so precious like this — in all of his long life Zhongli cannot remember being soft. He’s always been as hard as stone, had to be, even with peace among the land, he has been hardened and formed by centuries of war and slaughters. Softness was never a luxury Rex Lapis could afford — Ah, Zhongli stops himself, a faint smile on his face; but he no longer is Rex Lapis. The burden of his Gnosis, the burden of his name, the burden of the divine; it was all lifted off his heavy shoulders. It finally feels like he’s able to breathe. 

And now, with Rex Lapis deceased and bygone, will he, Zhongli, be able to afford the luxury of softness, of vulnerability? Maybe, he thinks to himself and eyes Childe.

“Your tea still warm?” Childe’s sleepy voice rips Zhongli softly out of his thoughts — the Fatui has one eye open, staring at him with sleep still smudged all over his face. 

“I’m afraid not”, Zhongli answers, his lips still carved up slightly enough for Childe to recognize his smile. 

He yawns and turns around, resting his head on his hands. His eyes are sharper now, more perceiving but his face is still made soft by sleep. “It’s late, Zhongli. You should go to sleep.” - “I find much more rest in watching you”, Zhongli replies and finally closes that book in his lap and puts it away — he’s lost his interest in it as soon as Childe fell asleep. 

“It’s a peaceful night”, Zhongli adds, his head making a slight movement towards the open window. The rain hasn’t stopped or decreased and Childe hums in acknowledgement, his everblue eyes throwing a quick glance outside — the orange light of the lanterns is almost magical in the wet night, clashing against the dark, warm and yet cold at once, a paradox that cannot be explained — just like either of them, Zhongli and Childe, in their own ways, and without so much as having to look at each other, they know that they’re both thinking the same thing. 

Childe leans upwards, his hands running over Zhongli’s arm like a faint whisper. “I don’t know for how much longer the Tsaritsa will let me stay”, he whispers against the rain. Childe’s voice is tainted. 

The night is peaceful until Childe decides that it isn’t.

Zhongli’s eye twitches but the rest of this face remains as neutral as he can manage. It’s the rain, Zhongli thinks, the rain does something to people, especially at night. It has a way of washing away facades and lies and oftentimes brings out confessions between people … — lovers. 

Zhongli tilts his head — in all his long, long life he’s never met quite a challenge like Childe — everything about him is surreal; his decisions impulsive and his emotions reckless in a way that it moves something deep within Zhongli — he can’t quite grasp it, he can’t quite comprehend it. It must be love, Zhongli thinks to himself. It must be the kind of love only a god can give.

 “What about you?” Zhongli asks, looming over Childe like a dark shadow, eyes narrowed. 

Within Childe, something seems to crack — his features derail and he looks away, as if ashamed, and suddenly he’s much smaller. 

“I wish I could stay”, he whispers so quietly, Zhongli almost mistakes his voice for the rain. 

“You can”, Zhongli replies simply. There is a certain warmth in the Archon’s voice, a certain tone that rings right through Childe and punches a dagger in his heart. 

Childe looks up to him, eyes wide open, cheeks flustered and his mouth slightly agape. 

“And if you cannot, well… I can follow you to Shneznaya. I am no longer bound to Liyue”, Zhongli stops for a second and smiles again. “Home is wherever I am with you.” 

Childe just stares back at him — the Harbinger looks so vulnerable in this moment, so fragile, Zhongli is sure he could break him with less than his fingers. He could swear that Childe’s eyes swill up with tears but the Harbinger blinks away quickly. 

“I have nothing to offer you”, Childe suddenly breathes, his fingers wrapping tightly around Zhongli’s wrists. 

Zhongli is quiet for a moment, processing what Childe just said before he chuckles low. Really, Childe is one of a kind but Zhongli knows a thing or two about patience. 

“I have been worshipped, Ajax”, Zhongli starts and Childe’s eyes open wider as if he’d only now realize who Zhongli is and what power he holds, still, even without his Gnosis. 

“I have been worshipped in blood and sacrifices and many more things worse. I have slaughtered and taken. I have led and protected.  I built Liyue and watched over it for thousands of years. The people have given me everything over these millennia and there is nothing I want except you.” 

His hands slowly cup Childe’s cheeks, his thumbs pressing into the soft skin underneath the Fatui’s eyes. 

“You never will have to offer anything to me. Quite on the contrary, I offer myself to you.”

Childe inhales sharply. 

“Will you accept the devotion of an old man like me?”, Zhongli doesn't smile but Childe recognizes a faint glow in the Archon’s eyes that gives his amusement away anyway.

“I desire nothing else but the gift of your love”, Zhongli adds, and he leans toward to press a gentle kiss against the corner of Childe’s mouth. He can feel Childe’s heart skip a beat, his breath shuddering in his throat. 

Childe groans, his fingers pressing hard into Zhongli’s skin; like he would float away if he didn’t hold on tight enough; or like Zhongli would slip away from him.

“You will be the end of me”, Childe whispers. “You’re killing me.” 

Zhongli’s eyes light up on that, like the eyes of Morax, clear and sharp Amber. Yet another reminder for Childe to not forget who Zhongli is — or was. 

“Do not think about the Tsaritsa now. Instead, think about me and what I can do — Gnosis or not.” And after six millennia of being a god, there is a command in Zhongli’s voice which is undeniable and, more importantly, not negotiable with. His words have been the law for a very long time and who is Childe to disobey the God of Justice, the God of War? 

Childe swallows and all he can do is nod. 

Deep within himself, underneath layers and layers of lies and betrayal, Childe knows, he knows, that if Zhongli called, he would answer. His devotion to the Tsaritsa started to thin in the very moment Zhongli gave his Gnosis up — without a fight he handed it to Signora, freely, and he seemed almost relieved to be rid of it. Childe knows this in the very abyss of his soul; and so does Zhongli. 

“Will you still require blood and slaughter?”, Childe asks, half joking, half serious. “I can give you both.” 

Zhongli snorts which catches Childe so off guard that his jaw drops — he never heard Zhongli making such a sound.

“The times of war and battle have long passed. I am no longer an Archon. I am no longer the god that I needed to be. I may not be as mortal as you are, my love, but mortal enough.” Zhongli turns to look outside, the rain still heavy, still falling. 

“In all this time of being alive I never felt so alive.” 

His gaze flatters back to Childe but he remains silent then. Childe’s heart pounds so fast and so loud that he’s sure Zhongli can hear it. His blood rushes through his veins like a wildfire and ignites something beyond passion and desire.

Childe closes his eyes and lets his head bump against Zhongli’s shoulder. 

“You’re right”, he says then, finally giving in,  his lips trailing over Zhongli’s skin. “It’s a peaceful night.”

Zhongli finds himself leaning into the touch, into the warmth, and he hums. He presses a kiss on Childe’s forehead. 

“It surely is. And we have many more ahead of us.”

[apenapaperandadoofus]

25 Saeyoung (fluff) :>

Games (Saeyoung fluff)

"Y/N....you don't have to do this..." Saeyoung weakly whispered, and you came closer to him, your faces so close you could kiss.

"Oh but I do, Saeyoung. Now....goodbye.. it was nice knowing ya..." Saeyoung gasped as you suddenly pushed him towards the edge, making him fall into the endless abyss.

"Wait Y/N, AGH NOOOOOOOO"

"Game!!" The announcer's voice could be heard through the living room speakers.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" Saeyoung cried as he fell on his knees off the living room couch, and you let out a victorious laugh.

"That's 14 for me, 12 for you. So who exactly was the game master again?~" you teasingly asked. Saeyoung fell to his back and let out a pained grunt, putting the back of his hand over his face in a dramatic pose.

"Betrayed by the one person I love the most! Why must you do this to me world?!" He cried.

"Idiot, you definetly deserve whatever Y/N did to you." Saeran said as he made his way to the kitchen, probably going to get some more ice cream.

Saryoung sat up and placed a hand on his chest, gasping again. "AND EVEN MY OWN BROTHER!!! OH SOMEONE PLEASE END THIS MISERY"

Saeran once again poked his head out from the kitchen and smirked. "I could help with that."

Saeyoung's eyes widened and he crawled over to you, hugging your legs. "AHHH Y/N HE'S TRYING TO KILL ME, HELP!!!"

You chuckled and placed your hand in Saeyoung's head. "Alright boys, play nice. Besides, you were the one who said we should do a game battle, not my fault you suck at smash."

You could hear Saeran laugh from the kitchen and Saeyoung pouted, placing his head on your thighs. "But Y/N~ It's not fair! How was I supposed to know you were better than me in smash? I've been playing for so long, and I was sure I would at least beat you in that!"

"Well you were wrong, now the deal was that the loser buys the winner food right? Then how about-"

"One more round! And I'll do you one better! Instead of buying the other one food, how about the loser does whatever the winner wants?"

"Saeyoung we've been playing for three hours-"

"Just this one and no more! I promise!" Saeyoung looked up at you and made some puppy dog eyes, and honestly how could you say no to that face?

You sighed and pinched his cheeks, making him gasp. "Fine. One more. That's all."

"YAY!!!" He quickly hugged you and then got up to grab his controller, sitting down on the couch beside you. Saeran then came from the kitchen with a spoon in his mouth and a bowl of ice cream in his hands. He gave you an "are you serious" look and you just shrugged. He sighed and then left to his room, closing the door.

"Alright then Saeyoung. Let's do this."

"Yes!!! IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN!" He started singing as you chose your characters and you laughed as you joined in.

Saeyoung made a hand trumpet and started making those wierd mouth trumpet noises and that made you laugh even more. But the atmosphere in the room immediately changed as the two of you loaded into the location.

"Well then Saeyoung. Are you ready for me to whoop your ass?"

"Haha, my dear Y/N, are you ready for me to be the one to beat you in this round?"

You laughed and shook your head. "Well then. Let the battle commence!!!"

The two of you sat in silence, as you gripped tight your controller and leaned forward.

It was going well for you, thankfully. Saeyoung was now putting a stronger defense, but you were still able to hit him.

You smirked as you hit him once again. One more, and it would be over for him. You confidently started to get ready to smash the shit out of him, when suddenly you gasped as you felt a hand touch your tigh. You looked over to Saeyoung but he seemed to be focused on the game, somehow only using one of his hands. The worst was, that since you got distracted, he suddenly managed to throw you off the map! Oh that little-

Saeyoung smirked from beside you and you huffed. Nest time you would definetly be ready for his dirty trick. The thing was, soon enough Saeyoung suddenly moved his arm to be around your shoulders and you stopped, looking at him in surprise. Before you could nag him tough, you heard your character fall off the map again.

Oh that little...!!!!

"What's wrong Y/N? Something on your mind?" He asked as he smirked at you.

You blushed furiously and moved his hand off from your shoulders, huffing. "Shut up."

Then, finally! You had him cornered! He wouldn't be able to do anything now, since you were prepared for whatever else he might try to do, so you mentally asked him to bring it on!

And he did.

Suddnely Saeyoung grabbed your legs and turned you so you were laying on your back with him on top of you. Before you could say anything, Saeyoung got on top of you and kissed you roughly, all of your protests dying in your mouth.

Saeyoung let out a satisfied hum as he let his hands wander down your body, and you melted into his touch, kissing him back eagerly.

That was, until you suddenly heard the very familiar announcer voice yell "Game! Player 1 wins!!!"

Saeyoung smirked as he kissed you and you realized what he had done, pushing him away and sitting up to look at Saeyoung's character appearing to have won this round.

"YOU!!!" You screamed, as you looked to Saryoung who was feigning innocence.

"What?~"

"Y-you cheated!! That's not fair, you know I should've won!" You gently turned around to hit his arm, and Saeyoung laughed.

"I've no idea what you're talking about."

"SAEYOUNG!!!" You were about to hit him again when his sweet smiled faded and he grabbed your hands. Then before you could make out what he was doing, he pushed your back against the back of the couch, and got on top of you, cornering you. Then he leaned in to whisper in your ear. "Besides...I see this as a win-win, after all, you did enjoy the kiss didn't you?"

You gulped and tried to look somewhere else, as Saeyoung chuckled. "Now I get to do whatever I want~" he whispered against your skin and you gasped at his touch.

You were both about to kiss when suddenly you heard from behind you, "Ew go get a room, don't do this in the living room you weirdos." The two of you jumped in surprise and blushed as you saw Saeran scowl from behind the couch, his hands with the now empty bowl of ice cream.

You gently pushed Saeyoung off of you and blushed even harder. "Oh! Uhm, yeah, uh I'm s-sorry Saeran uh...!"

"HEY SAERAN I WON!!" Saeyoung grinned as his brother looked at the two of you.

"Really? Why do I feel like you somehow cheated?" Saeran said, raising an eyebrow.

"SAERAN!!! I won fair and square."

"Yeah right!!!!" You glared at him and Saeyoung stiffened, making his brother let out an amused laugh from the kitchen.

"Jeez seriously, Saeyoung...I can't say I'm surprised though...just please, don't do this in the living room. Or at least do it when I'm gone, I'm not coming out for about two hours just in case. Ugh." He shivered in disgust as he went to his room and closed the door.

You and Saeyoung looked at each other before laughing, leaning back on the couch. Then Saeyoung caressed your cheek and leaned his forehead against yours. "Fine, you win. I'll do whatever you want. Besides I wasn't really going to just cheat like that...I just wanted to win once. For my pride y'know?"

You laughed. "Sure, sure. Well then, thank you for letting me win. I was beating your ass anyways, so technically you aren't really doing anything, I still would've had won."

"I was just out of my element today!"

"Uh-huh sure."

"I was!! Normally I always win at this game!"

You booped his nose and laughed, then you have him a small peck on the lips. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get all stingy just because you lost. Now, I'm actually starving, why don't we get some food?"

Saeyoung smiled, but then, as you got up to go to the kitchen he suddenly grabbed you and lifted you off your feet, carrying you princess style.

"No you don't. We have to finish what we started!"

You chuckled. "And why should I do that?"

"Because your boyfriend is feeling super bad about losing, so you should take responsibility and make him feel better!"

You rolled your eyes at his lame excuse. "Yeah right.... although I do guess that if we're going to do that anyways then I should take the chance to use my prize!"

Saeyoung stoped and looked at you. "Wh...what?"

"C'mon Saeyoung, you do have to congratulate me for winning don't you?~"

Saeyoung smiled at you, and proceeded to twirl you around. "As you wish!"

You both laughed as you made your way to the bedroom, and then spent the day in each other's embrace.

[cat5313]

I have prompts!!!! Nessian: "I can't take you anywhere, you just fight everyone."

So, this isn’t proofread, so that’s fun.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

************************************

Nesta used to love bars.

Years ago, after the war, bars were her sanctuary. Liquor had been her closest confidant during that period of her life. It provided her with an easy escape from the nightmares and fear that constantly loomed over her shoulder. That fear was a constant companion, even during her waking hours, and without the alcohol and lovers whose faces she could never remember Nesta had always feared the fear would overcome her.

It almost did at first, when Feyre had sent her away. Those first few weeks had been a living hell, especially with Cassian constantly up her ass to stop feeling sorry for herself and start training. Eventually, that anger that constantly boiled just under the surface had bubbled over one day. Cassian and Nesta never talked about that day, and they never would, but after that they had a silent agreement. Nesta would train and Cassian would give her space.

As the weeks passed, Nesta threw herself into her training. After many sleepless nights plagued by nightmares, Nesta had relished in pushing herself to her limit. The burn in her muscles became a replacement for the burn of liquor running down her throat. The exhaustion she felt at the end of the day that occasionally granted her a dreamless rest became a substitute for the exhaustion she often felt after inviting a faceless lover back to her apartment.

Nesta and Cassian’s agreement grew into a mutual respect for each other as the weeks passed. It wasn’t until Cassian had found her one night, sobbing in the small cabin she’d been given that their tolerance of each other shifted. He had stopped by to drop off a new pair of boots- he’d noticed hers were wearing down, and he’d wanted to replace them before they fully gave out. He’d knocked and called her name, and upon not receiving any reply, he felt a small sense of dread settle in the pit of his stomach. He’d entered the cabin and searched the few rooms she had, that feeling of dread growing each second he couldn’t see her.

She’d been in the washroom. When Cassian had found her, she was naked and soaked, her knees tucked to her chest. She was crying, her body shivering against the side of the old tub beside her. Her hair was wet up to her chin and her arms were marred with red, angry scratch. Nesta told him later that it was her memory of the cauldron. It happened every time she bathed- she’d try to force herself to sink deeper and deeper each time, and more often than not the memory of that all consuming, dark abyss flooded her mind, and that fear would envelope her. She’d panic, and whenever she regained control of her senses, she was always out of the bath, always covered in panicked scratches from her nails.

Cassian hadn’t said a word, and Nesta was always grateful for that. Instead, he’d scooped her up into his arms, his heart breaking at how badly she was shivering, how tightly she clung to him. He’d carried her to her bedroom and held her until she calmed down, neither daring to speak. He helped her get into her nightgown and stayed with her until she fell asleep, his hand clutched in hers.

They never talked about that night either.

As weeks blurred into months, Cassian and Nesta’s relationship began to grow and develop. They’d become friends of sorts, and it wasn’t until Feyre and Rhysand sent them a message announcing the birth of their newborn son that anything truly changed. Nesta had been more than reluctant to return to Velaris, however, she wanted to meet her nephew. She wanted to see her sisters.

Cassian remained at her side the entire time. They’d flown directly to Feyre and Rhy’s new home they’d built together, where Rhys waiting for them on the front staircase. While Cassian congratulated his brother, Nesta wandered into the front entryway as memories of her sister sending her off all those months ago flooded her mind. Cassian had been there in an instant, and together they’d followed Rhys to meet the new heir of the Nightcourt.

Nesta fell in love with the little baby- he had Feyre’s features with Rhy’s hair and eyes. Feyre had insisted they stay for a few days before returning back to the mountains, and they had agreed. The same night they had arrived, Nesta’s mind had flooded with memories as she gazed out her window at the infamous night sky of Velaris. If she tried hard enough, she could see the roof of the bar she used to go to- she could even see the top floors of her old apartment building.

She wasn’t sure what it was, but something inside her broke. The air was too stale, the city lights too bright, and her room too big. The next thing she remembered was standing before a doorway, Cassian leaning against the doorframe. He’d obviously been getting ready to go to bed, but Nesta couldn’t find the will to walk away. The denial she’d been pushing down since the war was choking her, and after the past few months of his silent, unwavering support, Nesta wanted nothing more than to be able to finally breathe. So, Cassian had taken them up to the roof, and they’d talked for hours about everything and nothing. About the mating bond they’d felt between them.

For Nesta, it had been like a dream. Of course, Cassian had needed to reassure her multiple times over the next few days that it had been real, that they had talked. From there, they’d returned to the mountains and Nesta had finished her training. Her and Cassian’s relationship had grown and evolved from there, and when they’d returned home, it had been as mates. Feyre and Elian had begged Nesta for the details, but Nesta had refused. Those few days had been precious to her, and she didn’t want to expose her heart like that, even to her sisters.

Now, a few years after their return, Nesta was the happiest she’d ever been. She still dealt with the occasional nightmare, but having Cassian beside her at night often soothed her well enough that she could sleep. The inner circle had welcomed her with open arms, and although she was still rather closed off and reserved, Nesta had to admit she enjoyed their company, especially when Rhys and Feyre brought their son along.

Unfortunately, it would’ve been a bad decision to bring their six year old along with them to a bar. It was Morrigan’s birthday and she had insisted they all go out and party together. To Nesta’s displeasure, they were at their third bar of the night. All of their friends were varying levels of drunk- all except Nesta. After she and Cassian had returned, she still had a glass of wine here and there but for the most part, she didn’t allow herself to drink a lot in fear of falling back into old habits.

And, at the moment, she was glad she wasn’t drunk.

If she was, she probably wouldn’t have noticed the women looking at Cassian like he was a slab of meat.

He had gone to dance with Mor at the birthday girl's request, and after an insistence from Nesta that she’d be fine, he’d followed Mor to the dance floor. He hadn’t been gone long when Nesta had noticed the group of women beside her eyeing the Illyrian male. At first she didn’t let it bother her, but as soon as they started speaking, Nesta felt her blood coming to a boil.

“What do you think my chances are of getting him to come home with me?” A blonde asked her friends, her eyes freely roaming Cassian’s form as he danced.

“Or me,” a redhead piped up, “Cauldron, I think I’d let him do just about anything to me.”

“He probably already has a female,” another blonde spoke up, “what about the woman he’s dancing with?”

“He hasn’t touched her once, they can’t be an item,” the redhead practically purred and slid off her barseat, “Besides, even if he does have a woman, she can’t be anything special if he’s here, right?” Fixing her hair, her eyes fully settled on Cass as she moved to approach him.

“He’d never touch you, you know.”

The redhead’s steps faltered when she heard Nesta’s voice.

When the other woman turned to look at her, Nesta raised her wineglass to her lips, her cold, steely gaze locked with the redhead’s as she took a sip.

The woman’s painted lips curved into a charming smile, her hand moving to rest on her hip.

“Oh, is that so? Well, I have say I have a much better chance than you ever would. Don’t flatter yourself, dear,” she said with a challenging gleam in her eyes.

Behind her, Nesta saw Cassian’s dancing falter for a moment.

Raising her wine to her lips again, Nesta shrugged. “Well, no offense, but I doubt a man as attractive as him would ever consider touching a woman who opens her legs so easily. Such a pretty body, ruined by no shame and no class.”

Another sip.

Cassian stopped dancing all together in the crowd as Morrigan’s laughter rang out beside him.

The redhead’s cheeks bloomed with color and her brows furrowed with fury. “Like you’d know anything about shame, you snobby whore. Get off your high horse and accept no man half as attractive as him would so much as look your way.”

Her arm moved to throw the rest of her drink in Nesta’s face, but before the amber liquid could slosh out of the glass, a tanned fist wrapped around the woman’s pale wrist.

Nesta sipped her wine.

“Nesta.”

His voice sent chills up her spine, but Nesta kept a straight face as she looked at him, her finger tracing the rim of her wine glass.

“Is this woman bothering you?”

Nesta pretended to think for a moment before releasing a sigh. Setting her empty glass on the counter, Nesta slid down from her own bar stool, her cold stare meeting the two blondes from before. They both looked away immediately, and feeling satisfied, she approached Cassian and the other woman, her face stoic.

“No, not at all. She was just going to dance, right?” Nesta asked.

The redhead stared at her and Nesta simply smiled at her. Taking the woman’s glass, Nesta shot back the remaining whiskey, her eyes never leaving the redheads. She could tell Cassian was holding back a grin as Nesta held out the glass for the redhead to take again as Cassian released the woman’s wrist. With a scowl, the woman practically shook with fury as she reached for the empty glass, only for Nesta to drop it.

The glass shattered, and Nesta swore she could see the woman’s eye twitch with rage.

“Cass, I’d like to go home. It’s getting late,” Nesta said, her eyes still locked with the redhead’s.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he said with a chuckle and moved to wrap and arm around Nesta’s shoulders as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Nesta couldn’t help but smile as the woman openly gaped at them, her eyes wide with surprise.

Cassian called a goodbye to their friends as they left the bar, and as they walked down the sidewalk in the cool night air, Cassian laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Nesta asked, her brow raised as she looked up at her mate. Cassian simply grinned and squeezed her hand.

“I can’t take you anywhere, you just fight everyone,” he said, amusement bright in his eyes.

Nesta simply shrugged. There was no point in denying what was true.

“They were looking at you like a pack of wolves. I was simply informing that woman she had no chance,” Nesta said, her chin held high. Cassian chuckled again and pulled her to the side, his arms wrapping around her waist.

“Oh? How kind of you... Are you sure you weren’t jealous, Nes?” He asked with a smirk and kissed her cheek, his lips trailing down her jaw to her neck. Nesta rolled her eyes, her hands running down his chest and settling on his waist.

“So what if I was?” She asked, her eyes fluttering shut as Cassian nipped at her ear.

“You know I’d never look at anyone else, right?”

Nesta hummed and looped her fingers into the waistband of his pants, a soft sigh escaping her.

“I think you’re going to have to bring me home and prove it.”

Nesta could feel Cassian’s grin against her neck at her teasing, and with a husky chuckle, he nodded.

“With pleasure.”

[alfredosauce50]

What makes me human [Cyberpunk! America x reader 10]

Wordcount: 5,809 Rating: T for strong language and mild violence “Can’t you see that none of this is real? You’re living in the past, dumbass! It’s all a dream! If you don’t wake up soon, you’ll regret it!” Chapter synopsis: Half-dead, Allen falls into a strange realm of existence. It's nothing he's seen before, but it feels awfully familiar. He soon learns he's stuck in the past, and it's all in his head. He'll do whatever it takes to wake up and save Alfred from his demise he once played a part in. The reader is referred to as she/her.

Songs to listen to while you read (in order as found in playlist): 2049, Ghost in the shell - Original mix, Something about us, Cloudy day, L, The voice in my head. I have indented song titles throughout the chapter so you can change accordingly. Starting now:

2049, Ghost in the Shell - Original mix

“His condition is stable. He’s in a coma, but he’s gonna be fine.”

“A coma? For how long?”

Where were the voices coming from? Was there one person or two people speaking? He couldn’t tell. But his interest quickly changed to another subject.

Am I dead?  

With whatever brain activity he had left, that question was the only thing he heard repeating in his head like a broken record. 

He couldn’t see anything, let alone feel anything as he drifted into an abyss of nothingness. In fact, it was so empty, he couldn’t even say it was darkness he was engulfed in. Just nothingness. Was this what people experienced before walking over to the other side? Or was he going to be stuck here forever? Allen couldn’t tell. Not when there was no concept of time in this strange realm of existence, anyway. 

His eyes shot open. It took a few moments for his vision to adjust, but he came to realize he was sitting in his car. Huh. Was that all a dream? Whatever it was, it had escaped his mind so seamlessly, he couldn’t remember anything. Leaning forward to peer out the window, he was greeted with an onslaught of neon lights. Neon signs, holograms, and posters surrounded him from all angles and heights. At least that told him he wasn’t far from home. Turning to the front, he attached his hands to the wheel. Now, to get back. 

If he drove around for a few minutes, he’d surely pinpoint his location relative to Arthur’s auto shop. Revving up the engine, he heard it purr to life. As a small grin stretched over his lips, he pulled out of the cul-de-sac to move to the main street. “I missed you too.” He murmured, never letting his gaze stray from the road. Eventually, he made it to a familiar intersection. Before he could pass through it, he stopped and found himself staring at what looked like a police chase coming to an end. 

A helicopter hovered over a car stopped in the center. Over the fierce thumping of its blades, he heard a grungy voice barking out orders through a loudspeaker. He couldn’t make out what it was, but it didn’t look like they were followed. Not when the occupants in the vehicle were immediately shot upon stepping out–collapsing to the ground after a rain of machine gunfire blew them apart. 

“Jesus Christ…” He mumbled under a frown. “Poor bastards.” 

After they all dropped like flies, the helicopter took off in another direction. And just like that, they were gone. 

The police in Twilight city were ruthless as always. Quick to action, and yet, just as dismissive. But it wasn’t his business. So long as he played his cards right, he wouldn’t have to deal with them. Making a right turn, he breathed out a sigh as he made a detour. He never liked using alleyways. There was no saying if he’d run into a couple of weirdos in places like these. Speaking of weirdos, there was a couple of men huddling around a corner.  It piqued his curiosity to see them so interested in whatever it was they surrounded. Or more accurately put, who they surrounded. A girl. Slowing to a stop behind a tall bundle of crates, he leaned over to the right to get a better look. She was shaking in her boots, and her lips were trembling as she struggled to respond to the questions thrown at her. And how old was she anyway? 10? 11?

“That doesn’t look good.” Allen narrowed his eyes.

He climbed out of his car.  

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket, he approached the group slowly. But when one of the men took a hold of her shoulder, adrenaline surged through his veins and he burst into a sprint. When he got close enough, he grabbed said man’s shoulder before throwing his fist back. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Punching him square in the face, he sent him hurtling towards the ground. 

Immediately, his cronies responded by pouncing on the newcomer for giving one of their buddies a black eye. After a few minutes of violent tousling, he managed to beat them all into submission. 

Leaving them groaning and wincing in the dirt, he gave his hand a rough shake. Phew. He hadn’t had a good fight in ages. Giving his bottom lip a light tap to find a small blotch of red on his fingertip. And he won against three people too,  escaping with only a busted lip. Before he could gloat about it, he glanced around to find the girl. Where did she go? 

Assuming she ran away, he shrugged and moved back to his car. If she wasn’t here, then he wouldn’t be obliged to help her any more than that. But upon nearing his vehicle, he spotted a small pair of feet poking out from the back. Then, they proceeded to shuffle back to become completely concealed. Breathing out a chuckle at that, he rested his hands on his hips. 

“I can see you.” 

No response. 

“You can come out now.” Making his way around the trunk, the child buried her face into her knees upon realizing she had been discovered. A light frown downturned his features at the sight of her shaking like a leaf. “Man, am I that scary?” He murmured, lowering himself to his knees. “Hey, kid. I’m not gonna hurt ya. I was just passing by. I promise I won’t do anything.” 

She kept her face hidden, but her trembling seemed to calm. 

“Well, if you’re not gonna say anything, I’ll be on my way. Just make sure to move out of the way so I don’t run you over.” Standing up on his feet, he turned his back to her. Before his fingers could do so little as graze over the car handles, a faint voice piped up. 

“Wait!” 

Allen grinned and spun on his heel. “Yes?”

She stood up slowly, but kept her head low to avoid his gaze. Without removing her hands from her pants, which she was clenching at, she opened her mouth again. “Could you maybe… Tell me where the train station is? I got kinda lost.” The way she spoke was soft, breathless even, and more so than Allen’s who just beat up a bunch of no-good-doers. 

“The train station?” The redhead questioned. Not that he didn’t know where it was. In fact, it was only a few blocks down, but he had to think twice about sending a ten-year-old off to wander the streets around here. The same streets a police shootout just took place, and the same streets where she was approached by a couple of hooligans. “How about I drop you off? I’m not in a hurry. I dunno if you wanna walk around by yourself after what happened.” 

He said it before, and he’d say it again. This city was an absolute shithole. 

“R-really? But I’m not sure…” The enthusiasm faded as quickly as she lit up. “I don’t know you.” 

“And I don’t know you either.” Allen hummed. “So you’re just as dangerous to me as I am to you. Sound fair?” 

The girl furrowed her brows. 

“That doesn’t make sense. You’re way older than me.”

“Oh yeah? I’m only eighteen though. Lemme guess, ten? Twelve?”

“Thirteen.” She answered, relaxing just a touch at the sound of his age. At first glance, one would have assumed he was in his early twenties, but she was relieved to know she was wrong. “Are you still in high school?”

The man blinked. Was she warming up already? “Nope. I finished nearly a year ago. But that doesn’t mean I sit around all day with nothing to do.” He opened the car door to the driver’s seat. “You’re lucky I was out and about to get your ass out of trouble. So what do you say we keep it that way?” 

The ride there didn’t take long, much to Allen’s surprise. By the time his GPS revealed that they had arrived, he had slowed down near the curb in front of one of the tallest skyscrapers in Twilight city. Sliding the window down, he poked his head out to give his surroundings a gander. The blinding lights of the liveliest commercial center forced him to squint, but he could still tell this was the city center. And that only meant the residential lots were a little further down. 

“You sure this is the right address? There’s nothing but malls and stuff around here.” He shouted over the bustle of people crossing the streets and pounding of music. 

“No, this it the right place. I live right there in that building!” Climbing over to the side, she pointed at Matsumoto Optics. 

Exchanging glances with the said building, then the girl, he gave his head a light shake. “What do you mean, you live right there? Nobody–” He paused, feeling dread settle in his stomach. “Wait a sec. What was your name again, kid?”

“(F/N) Matsumoto. My dad actually owns the whole plaza.” 

He paled. 

“Holy shit.”

Why did it feel like a gun was pointing at him?

Because there was one. 

Whipping his head to the window next to him, he found himself staring straight down the barrel of a gun. While his heart broke out into a pounding frenzy, he came to notice that his whole car was surrounded by men in suits. Bringing out every kind of shootable weapon that existed, his blood ran cold at the sound of more than twenty firearms cocking at once. From every angle there was, he was aimed at by something. “Fuck.” 

“Put your hands where I can see them!” One of the men demanded.

Allen threw his arms up. “Alright, alright!”

Glass shattered. A hand shot through the broken window and hit him in the back of the neck, hard. “Gh-!” It knocked him out immediately. Then, his unconscious body was dragged out of the car with next to no grace.

So much for following orders. 

When he finally came to, all he knew was the throbbing pain in his neck, and the rope burns around his arms and wrists. Since they were tightly bound together, he could only blink away the fuzz in his vision. This day had to be the longest yet. All he remembered was waking up in his car completely disoriented, then saving a middle-schooler from a bunch of creeps. Where was this place? An office of some sort? How did he wind up here again? All he could do was speculate as he continued to kneel on the carpeted ground. 

“My daughter told me you saved her from a group of ruffians.” A low voice began, forcing him to look up. My daughter? Did that mean he was Matsumoto? The Takahiro Matsumoto? The most powerful person on the planet? The person whose name he heard every minute of the day from slogans? His suspicions were confirmed when he found himself gawking at a beast of a man, who stood a little over six feet with a long gray beard. 

Wait a minute, this guy was old? And this… Built? “If she hadn’t, you wouldn’t have woken up.” 

Allen tensed. 

“… Right. Well, I’m sorry for whatever I did. I didn’t know she was… A Matsumoto.” He breathed. “If I did, I would’ve let her ride the train herself. Didn’t think putting her in my car warranted a death sentence.” 

“But you are alive, boy. And she is too, thanks to you.” The older man graciously responded, giving his head a firm pat. Then, he lowered his gaze to meet the other’s eyes. “I see an unwavering sense of justice from you. There were three men you had to fend off to keep her safe, and you only managed to let them hit you once.”

“…”

“You have talent.” 

“… Thanks.”

“If you haven’t noticed already, I want to recruit you.” 

The redhead had to do a double-take. Were his ears playing tricks on him, or did he actually say– 

“You wanna… Hire me?” 

Matsumoto nodded. “Like I just said. You have the skills to be a bodyguard, and we are in urgent need of one.” An ominous light glinted in his dark eyes as he opened his mouth again. “Did you ever wonder why there was a job opening?”

Allen gave a nervous laugh. On second thoughts, maybe laying low in Arthur’s auto shop was the better option. “Thanks, but no thanks. I was just lucky today, and I’m not a pro. I think you’re better off hiring somebody else–” 

The other hardened his stare at him. “We have an elaborate training program to prepare you for your duties. I see no reason for you to reject.” With a swift flick of his wrist, he beckoned over a few men who had been standing on the sidelines. “These gentlemen weren’t half as good as you when they began. Now, they are the best any secret service has to offer. Their combat skills are impeccable, and their instincts refined to perfection.” 

When he sensed he had fallen right into a trap, he wasn’t wrong. 

“I wouldn’t imagine it to be hard for them to locate anybody residing in this city. Even your friend, Arthur, the British mechanic.” 

Seeing that Allen was now at loss for words, he smiled. 

“I believe it would be in your best interest to work for me, Jekyll.”

That same day he was recruited, his induction took place. And boy, was it a lot. By the time they had finished, night had fallen. Fortunately, he could treat himself to a hot dinner in the dining court before retiring to his room. He couldn’t say being given his own condo was unexpected, but when he stepped inside to become completely immersed in luxury, he was faced with a rude awakening. Up here where the air stretched thin over the blinking lights of Twilight city, he was reminded how out of place he was.

All his life, he was at the bottom. He grew up a street rat before he was taken in by a kind mechanic. And he taught him everything he knew. Never did he imagine he would ever be this high up in the clouds, working in a high-ranking position under a man comparable to God. And the longer he lingered on this reality, thrusted to him without his say, the hotter his eyes felt. There was no saying if he could go home again.

And that meant he wouldn’t be seeing Arthur anytime soon.

The next morning, he woke up the groggiest he’d ever felt in his life. Squinting at the window that happened to take up his whole wall, he was graced with a hot orange sunrise. It cast a pinkish haze over everything in his sight like a filter, but he was far too exhausted to appreciate the scenery. He checked his phone. 6:23 AM. Twenty missed calls and twelve text messages. Crap. He’d call him later. He needed to figure himself out first.

Giving his face a cold splash of water, he rubbed his eyes clean. Lifting his head to the mirror, he found himself staring at his reflection, which of course, stared right back. Did he always look this young? He snorted. What was he thinking? Of course he did. He was only eighteen, after all. Sliding himself in a dress shirt and pants, he finished off the look by throwing on a black blazer. Then, he gave his appearance a hard stare. “… Nope. This looks stupid.” Leaving the bathroom in a white tank and bomber jacket, he ventured out into empty morning halls to find the elevator.

Once he made it to the third floor, he began his journey to the training dojo. The walls were a beige white, the floors a polished wood, and there were shoji screens everywhere. He was washed over with a strange sense of déjà vu. But considering this was his first time here, that couldn’t be the right phrase. Jamais vu was more like it. He was here with the impression he’d never been before, but he somehow knew that was a lie.

And it was a gut feeling so strong, it was kind of eerie.

He couldn’t understand why he was feeling this way. And not being the thinking type, he chose to brush it off. He had enough to worry about already, so the last thing he wanted was to overthink a foreign environment. Maybe some exercise could clear his head— and that was exactly what he’d be doing today. His rigorous training program.

Entering a spacious room, he stepped inside to feel his shoes sink into soft tatami mats.

“Don’t even think about taking another step in here with those shoes on, Jekyll.”

A very rigorous training program.

***

Something about us, L

It had only been a few days since arriving here at Arthur’s, but you were slowly regaining your strength. With every new morning, you awakened with more energy than the last. Perhaps the small light of hope of seeing Allen do the same was what urged you to become an early riser. But like yesterday, and the day before, that hope was shattered at the sight of him unconscious in bed. He didn’t even move an inch.

Nearing his side, you lowered yourself to your knees and reached out to his cheek. Talking to him while he slept had become routine to you. You’d tell him about your day, everything you did, and all your conversations you ever had. If not, you’d reminisce the past so he wouldn’t feel left out. He never interrupted, and let you run off on tangents until you were sick of talking. “I really hope you wake up soon, Allen. I feel like… I’m talking to myself here.” Your voice was soft with a heart-wrenching kind of sadness, but you refused to linger on it.

After all, how could you expect him to wake so soon? You knew how strong he was, but it would be selfish to want something impossible. So you forced yourself to leave the room, figuring you would feel better if you focused on something else. Little did you know, someone had been lurking in the halls during your visit.

Alfred had his back pressed up to the wall outside while you dropped by, and he heard everything. And not even from just this morning. Everything you ever told Allen, he listened in on too. 

He knew better than to infringe on your privacy, and hear things that were better off left unheard. But he kept finding himself hiding outside in the hall, doing it again and again—even Arthur had caught wind of it. 

He heard footsteps clunking against the metal floor, but he never bothered to turn to it. Usually, Arthur would’ve kept on walking. But not today he didn’t. “If you like her so much, you should just tell her.” He’d murmur. 

Alfred whipped his head to him with his eyes widened ever so slightly. But he visibly eased seeing it was just him. And rather than denying his claims, he tore his gaze away. “I can’t.” His brows were furrowed for creases to form between them. Arthur was almost taken aback, having never seen him so frustrated. 

“Why not?” The Brit responded, resting his back against the wall beside the man. “It’s painful seeing you loiter out here all day. I’d say I felt sorry for you, but you’ve been eavesdropping on her for a while.” At the sound of that, the other’s cheeks flushed red. So his guess was right on the mark, after all. “She’s coming out right now. Might wanna make a run for it while you still can.” 

“Guys?” Another voice joined, forcing the two men to spin around. 

The mechanic bit back a snort. “Too late. I’ll be in the garage.” He whispered. Shooting you a brief smile, he turned on his heels to leave. “You two have fun now. I have lots of work to do today.” With that said, he disappeared to do exactly that, but not without a few chuckles under his breath. For the many years he knew the guy, he never found anything he wasn’t good at. There was nothing he couldn’t do. Looking over his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of Alfred with a hand on his neck, laughing nervously. 

That perfect track record was finally ending, it seemed. 

At least he wouldn’t have to watch him fumble around with his feelings for long. You and Alfred were planning to leave in a few days to God knows where, to do God knows what. Frankly speaking, he didn’t know what you were doing, hanging around such a shady guy like him. That was right. You two arrived with your bodyguard Allen, who was half-dead then, and barely clinging to life now. What the hell happened? Wouldn’t your father be concerned?

Maybe he’d ask Allen himself, if he’d awaken anytime soon, that was. For now, he’d stay on the sidelines and help Alfred repair his missing Mantis blades as he’d requested. He was restless without them, frequently interrupting his work with, “Are you done yet?” until he finished for the day. Arthur narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue, shutting the garage door behind him. Whatever you two had planned, he couldn’t imagine it to be legal. 

***

Cloudy day

A few months had gone by, and he was finally getting settled in his new workplace. But there was no saying when he’d ever be forgiven for it. Not that he could even explain himself. What was he even supposed to say? I saved a girl from a bunch of creeps and put her in my car to take her home but she wasn’t just any girl and turned out to be the daughter of Matsumoto himself and now I’m being threatened to work for them because they know where you live. That surely wouldn’t fly. Especially when he went through all that just to be a glorified babysitter. 

He just knew Arthur was buried up to the neck with work, now that he was alone. Breathing out a sigh at the thought, he rolled his head to the said girl sitting by a cherry wood coffee table, whose nose was buried in a book. 

“You ever get bored reading stuff all day?” He began, stretching his arms across the backrest of the couch. 

She shrugged. “Sometimes. But I have to study, otherwise I’ll fall behind.” 

Allen nodded, stretching his lips into a flat line. “Fair enough. Well, I did just graduate high school, so if you need any help with… Math or whatever, just let me know.” Surely, seventh-grade level wouldn’t be too difficult for him.

“Mm… Thanks, but I don’t think you can help me with what I’m doing. This is like… College level stuff.” You gave him a sheepish smile, to where he gawked at you in response. 

“Wow, you a genius or something?” 

“I don’t think I am.” 

“You’re just being humble, kid. It’s fine to be proud of yourself, ya know. ‘Specially now, cuz it gets kinda annoying when adults do it.” Allen grinned, hopping up from his spot to give her hair a ruffle. She could only hang her head to hide the embarrassed pout on her lips. Fortunately, their height difference let her do so. 

“Thanks, I guess…” It was only when he pulled his hand away did she look up again. In her line of vision was a chest of drawers, and she reached out to point towards it. “Also, could you mind checking if my USB’s in there? I think I left it in one of the drawers yesterday.” 

The redhead spun around. “Sure, no prob.” 

Pulling out one of the compartments, he rummaged around random bits and bobs until he caught sight of said USB. Besides the connecter, the storage disk was fairly long and flat. This thing could’ve stored hundreds of terabytes of data if it could. That translated to hundreds of computers’ worth of information. Picking it up, he held it in his fingers to give it a brief study. Before he called over to you with his lips separated ajar, he found himself entranced by it. 

But what was so interesting about something as common as a storage disk? For some reason, the small object in his hand resonated with him. It was… So familiar. As if he’d seen something like this before. Or perhaps, it reminded him of something he forgot about. Problem was, he didn’t know what. And it was a gut feeling so strong, he couldn’t seem to shake it off. 

The voice in my head

That night, he was called to his superior’s office for a security briefing. Appearing through the tall double door, he walked in with his hands in his pockets. Situated deep in the room, and just by the window overlooking the blinking lights of the city, was his desk, and the man Matsumoto himself. His chair spun around to reveal a bearded man well into his seventies with a light scowl on his face. “I expect you to wear the uniform suitable for these occasions, Jekyll.” 

Allen blinked before rubbing his neck. “Right, sorry. Forgot.” In all honesty, he considered showing up in a black tie and all, but it wasn’t the most comfortable fit in the world. “So, what’dya call me in for?”

The other clasped his hands together and gave him a firm stare. “Even in my company, you have moments of… Stepping out of line. Breaches of discipline.” He gestured to his attire, letting it do the speaking. “I may overlook some inconsistencies in exchange for your services, but there is one rule you must not break under any circumstances.” 

Silence fell in the room so you could hear a pin drop. It gave Allen some room to think–to guess what his superior was going to warn him about. A secret basement that locked up human guinea pigs he wasn’t supposed to stumble into, perhaps? But that was ridiculous. So he stayed quiet, prepared to listen intently to the man. Surely, his guess was far from reality. 

“There is a… Basement a few floors beneath the lobby.” 

Allen froze. He’d heard this before. 

Otherwise, how else could he guess that he’d say this? 

“I keep my most prized possessions in there. Personal vehicles and upgrades. Nothing goes in and out undetected. So don’t even think about stepping inside.” He couldn’t believe a word he said, as calm and convincing his tone was. 

Allen had an idea why. 

He sensed something was off the minute he came here. It was all so obvious–the familiarity of the dojo halls, the USB, and even his face in the mirror. He’d seen it all before. Previously, he’d brushed it all off. But he couldn’t deny it any longer now that he had this conversation, a conversation he already had. So if his intuition was right, that meant he could guess what was actually in the basement. And there were no fancy sports cars to speak of. 

He gritted his teeth as his tanned complexion began to pale. Then, his stomach began to churn. 

“… Are you unwell?” 

He lifted his head and shook it. “Nah. Just lost in thought.” 

“You may lose yourself in the emptiness in your head as much as you desire, but not in my presence. If you don’t have any questions, you are dismissed.” 

“Yessir.” 

Turning on the spot to leave, a deep frown downturned his features now that he wasn’t facing him anymore. Something was terribly wrong. And he was about to confirm it. A couple of hours later when the whole building fell quiet, he snuck down to the basement floor through the elevator. And while he ran through the pitch-black halls to the door in the end, he couldn’t get this thought out of his mind. He’d definitely done this before, too. 

Swinging the door open, he was greeted with a familiar stench of death. But he didn’t have time to gag. Running to the two pods, he never bothered turning on his night vision. He trusted his body and his muscle memories to guide the way. And it was the right call, because he found himself standing by the pods in no time. Lifting up one of the hatches to find a mummified corpse, he stared with an unreadable expression. 

He wasn’t even surprised. And that was really telling, considering he would’ve vomited at the sight. But this only solidified his suspicions. This wasn’t new.

Nothing was. 

Turning to the other pod, he fiddled around the latches for a minute or so before giving in. This one couldn’t be opened, not without proper authorization. Okay, this was new. He didn’t remember this pod being locked. So he jabbed his fingers into a couple of buttons, unable to resist his curiosity. He couldn’t leave any stones unturned. Thankfully, his rapid button smashing eventually did do something to reveal what was inside. 

The glass that was previously fogged up cleared. 

Inside lay a man. A blonde. His skin was flawless in save for the outlines of removable plates. He was a cybernetically enhanced individual, but not one he wasn’t already acquainted with. 

“We put him to sleep for fifty years…” 

“By the time he gained his consciousness, we turned him into a killing machine.”

 “Even to this day, he remains my greatest creation.“

Fragments of his memory began to play in his head. All until he could remember the name of the sleeping figure. It was Alfred. And he had yet to wake up to go on a killing rampage, or in other words, the first time they’d ever meet.

Allen eventually retreated back to his condo. The first thing he did was go to the bathroom and splash cold water to his face. If he wanted to figure out what the hell was going on, he needed to clear his convoluted mind first. Either he was a psychic or stuck in another reality. But he wasn’t bright enough to be a psychic. And interdimensional travel wasn’t invented. Yet. So what could it be?

While he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his wet fingers, his train of thought was interrupted by a voice. And it sounded just like his, but deeper. 

Glancing up to the source, he found himself staring at his own reflection in his mirror. But he came to realize it wasn’t him–rather, it was an older version of him. They had the same face, eye color, and hair, but the person who glared back at him had sharper features, and a more defined jawline. Unbeknownst to him, it was the subconscious of his present self.

“What the hell are you doing?” He hissed.

Slamming his hands against the mirror, the loud bang caused Allen to jump. “Can’t you see that none of this is real? You’re living in the past, dumbass! It’s all a dream! If you don’t wake up soon, you’ll regret it!” 

Allen dug his hands through his hair, and before he could even question him, panic overwhelmed his system. Not that he needed to, because everything he was just told made perfect sense. “W-Wake up? But… But how?”

“What do you think genius? You have to die!” The other screamed. “If you don’t wake up soon, Alfred and (F/N) are gonna get away with the chip! You can’t let him put it in his head! The Soulkiller will destroy him!” 

Fuck. 

He felt himself tense up in all reality as more memories flowed back to him. That was right. He was in a coma after being stabbed by a katana. He remembered how desperate he was as he fought to stay awake, all so he could warn Alfred he was falling into a trap. But he failed, and wound up in another realm of reality. His dreams. And if he didn’t wake up soon, there was going to be hell to pay. 

Shoving his hand into his jacket, he pulled out a gun. 

Then, he exchanged wary glances with his subconscious, who nodded at him. 

He cocked it. “If you’re wrong… And I die in real life…” It wasn’t like he had anything to threaten him with, though. “Let’s hope I don’t.” Sliding the gun into his mouth, he screwed his eyes shut. Then, he pulled the trigger.

Shooting up with a loud gasp, he finally awakened from the longest trauma-induced sleep he’d ever had. Almost immediately, he heard somebody else let out a scream of genuine fear. “Ah–!” By the foot of the bed he was laying in was Arthur, and he’d fallen right out of his chair. “Jesus fucking Christ! If I’d known you’d wake up like that, I would’ve sat further away!”

Standing back onto his feet, he was never fast enough to stop Allen from sliding himself off the bed. “Hey– watch it! You can’t move right away!” 

“How did I get here?” 

Arthur stepped back as his friend loomed over him. “Well–I’m not sure how you fell into a coma, but it was Alfred and (F/N) who brought you in.” 

Thank god.  “And where are they now?”

The other shrugged with a look of defeat. “I don’t know, honestly. All I know is they’re doing something dangerous. Alfred wouldn’t leave before I helped him install a new set of mantis blades.” 

“Fuck!” He hissed, feeling his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. Bile was even rising in his throat as he reflected on the possibility that Alfred was already dead. “I was too late. I was too fucking late.” Shaking his head as heat accumulated behind his eyes, he paused for a moment, letting hot tears of frustration run down his face. Then, he gripped Arthur’s shoulders when he was hit with an epiphany. With the slim chance they only left recently, he still had time. 

“How long have they been gone for?”

The blonde pondered for a moment, but the concern in his eyes never faded. “Only a week, give or take. Why? What’s wrong?” 

Before Allen could breathe out a sigh of relief, he was gripped with a panic-inducing sense of urgency. “That means I can still save him!” If he remembered correctly, the Soulkiller virus needed at least two weeks before the damage became permanent. So if he could somehow find you both in seven days, he could save Alfred. “No questions. I’ll explain in the car! We have to find them as soon as possible!” 

He would’ve been dead if it weren’t for him. 

So in return for saving his life, he’d do anything to save his too. 

[liliesoftherain]

Ocean Eyes, or Something More?

A/N: Lowkey hate this, I rushed the ending and ijfbvfvbf, I wanna rewrite it! But I hope you enjoy this anyways. I’ll be posting more soon promise. 

However! Enjoy another beautiful server prompt for mha & readers discord server! I’ll be posting the masterlist later today, so keep a watch for that!! 

Pairing: Commodore!aka Officer!Bakugou Katsuki x Pirate!Fem!Reader

The spray of the sea landed upon your face; licking your lips at the assault, you were pleased to find the bitter sting of salt because of it. The smell of the water contradicted its taste, the sweet aroma of the waves still one of many that you haven’t gone nose blind to. The never ending blue surrounding you above and below was an almost blinding sight, yet there was never another sight you would rather gaze at. Never could another place hold itself so dearly in your heart such as this. This was your life; a life of freedom and honor, as much honor as a born and bred pirate could scrape together anyways.

The winds that blew against the durable sails urged your beauty of a ship forward, closer to the destination you were seeking. You kept your excitement at bay, knowing that this mission you’ve taken upon yourself was that  of great importance. 

“Cap’n, we be close to the shores of Sinehpor, the rest await yer orders.” Your right hand breaks your thoughts, and you glance over at him. 

Kirishima was a fine second mate, brave and upheld your honor more than anyone else ever had. A true man you trusted by your side, trusted with your life. You granted his presence with a nod, eyes going back to scan your crew.

“Thank ye, Kirishima. Have everyone prepare for shore, tis will be a night o’ drinkin’ for em all.”

“Aye, already done, Cap’n.” He grinned, motioning to the members preparing the sails and locking up some of the more precious items below deck. 

“Good,” you glance over the waters to spot the shoreline approaching the distance, “Ye already know why we be here, Kirishima.”

“Aye, the true reason. We be sure to get that map from the scoundrel. This be one of the biggest hauls yet, Cap’n.”

“So it shall,” you laugh heartily before raising your voice for everyone to hear, “Avast! All hands hoay me hearties, we be sailin’ into the docks of Sinehpor. Ye be knowin’ what that means!”

The cheers and happiness was contagious, goodwill spreading all along the ship. You nod at Kirishima as he went below to help the rest.

Tonight your men would be destroying their livers on the finest rum they could get a hold of, reaping the benefits of land after their time on the ship without rest. You had finished up a job, and were now without much purpose other than sailing. With your mates growing antsy for more work, and you itching for a new conquest, you figured it’d be beneficial to kill two birds with one stone.

Sinehpor was a well known trading dock that many came to for more than just their merchant carts; Sinehpor was also known to have some of the finest taverns and festivals, seen as more of a party district than one of trading. However, that title was swept under the rug, trading as a front to stay out of too much trouble from the royal navy and their annoying habits to shut down anything that was deemed fun. You've had your run in with the royal navy more than once, nothing more than a capture, since you always managed to escape before they could do anything more than that. 

You maneuvered your ship to a bare part of the port, docking your ship as you prepared to descend the ship. Making sure to give your crew a knowing look, silently commanding them to not seek out too much trouble, before letting them depart. You were the last to walk down the plank board, Kirishima waiting faithfully at the bottom for you. Your sea legs were noticeable as you walked towards the keeper, putting on an indifferent face as he gaped at your figure.

You understood, receiving this look on more than one account, while female pirates were rare they were still a thing; a female captain on the other hand was almost unthinkable to most. 

“It’s one shilling to dock, uh, ma’am.” 

You reach for your cloth bag while maintaining eye contact, pulling out more than what was asked for, throwing the shillings onto his record book.  You tip your head slowly, captain hat proudly atop your head as it followed your motions. You stroll away, smirk taking over as you hear him mumble a random name for the records. 

Your name wasn’t something you gave away so freely, not even your given name;

Diablo.

The legendary devil who roams the waters with ‘his’ crew born straight from hell. Well, that’s what they say anyways. There was not a man alive who hadn’t heard the tale of Diablo and ‘his’ deadly crew, who always got away with the fastest ship there was. Your ship, Hell Born Serpent, wasn’t given names on false pretenses. It was the fastest ship you have ever encountered, it’s shape helped its speed and agility in the water, ‘snaking’ through the water before disappearing from view. There was no one alive who wanted to go head to head with your crew, not a sane one anyways. You yourself had fought tooth and nail to gain your own title of legend, and you would continue fighting to your death.

Speaking of legends, you focused your mind on your purpose here. You had heard prior that an old acquaintance, of yours would still be here by this time. That he’d be taking residence for a short time before moving on again, sneaky old rouge. With these rumors around of his whereabouts, you were sure he could be gone any day, so you had to make sure you caught him before he did. He had what you wanted, what would give you work and make an even bigger name for you and your crew.

The map to Eazam Island itself, the one and only island of bone that was foretold to be full of riches beyond a man's wildest dreams. They say it’s just one of legend, a story for weary sailors, but what is another legend under your belt? If there was to be anyone to snatch the gold and live to boast of the easy capture, well that would only be your crew of course. 

You both reached a bar you knew well, hidden among other buildings but still one of quite busy, the dim lights and smells of food and drink bringing back memories of past adventures. 

A wild set of raven hair quickly catches your attention, and your smirk widens. You wave off Kirishima, allowing him to wander off to a table and relax with a pint; although you were sure he would do no such thing, opting to watch over the interaction in case of foul play. You dearly hope a barmaid will draw his attention away and let him have some fun, what good would it be to have come here if he didn’t.

Another catches your attention, making eye contact with one of your crew mates as he lifts a mug in salute to you, drowning it in one go. His eyes grow hazy and face flush before he barks out a laugh, pulling two barmaids closer to his side with a giggle in his voice, their faces heating up while they fall for his charms. That was your very own Denki of the Dames, a hit with the ladies sure, but as you take one final glance to see his slurred words and wobbly stature…

You knew he should have been called lightweight instead, he was always three sheets to the wind after two measly grogs. 

You see a few others sitting together, their names definitely matching: Abyss eyed Ashido, the bat of her eyes said to hypnotize anyone she wishes, and Quick Slip Sero, who you did trust wholeheartedly to get out of any sticky situation. You merely called them their names, not out of disrespect but for that of fondness. Each member was your family, and you made it known to them all.

You turn away from them, licking your lips in anticipation as you keep your sights locked onto your main target. You saunter towards your prey, taking the spot directly next to him at the bar. 

“I was wonderin’ when you’d show, doll. Your lackies aren’t the most subtle, ya know.”

“Sorry to keep ye waitin’, inferno.” You tap the bar for a drink, ignoring the way your company clicks his tongue at the name. You nod at the bartender, slugging back a few gulps before peering over the rim of the mug to see blue eyes piercing into your soul. Blue like your beloved waters, but these were nothing in comparison to the beauty you saw daily. 

“How many times will ya insist on calling me that wretched name, Diablo.”

“I think it suits ye pretty well, don’t ye think?”

“I never asked to be called-”

“Neither did I mine, yet here we be. Two ol salts drinkin’ in a measly pub together, wit names neither wan. So cut the hostility, Dabi, an jus drink yer rum before I do.”

He hummed, voice cutting deep and reminding you of forbidden nights shared together, before taking a drink of his own cup.

The noises of the rowdy bar infiltrated your ears, however silence between the two of you louder than that. You weren’t one to beat around the bush, so you broke the silence and went in for the kill.

“Now, why don’ ye be nice an’ help me get me hands on that map, ha?”

“What map is that, doll.”

“Map to Eazam, what else.”

“Hm, now, what kind of place would that be.”

You sent a glare through the corner of your eye, deadly (e/c) meeting haughty blue.

“Don’ be testing me now, Dabi. Best ye spill it before I grow angry.”

The tension was thick, neither stare wavering as you both tried to win a silent match. Stormy seas and cannon fire filled a single share look, till Dabi grunted and looked down into his drink. 

“Who even says I have it to give it to ya, Diablo.”

“Ye always have what i’m lookin’ for, Inferno.”

“Oh,” his smirk grew, tongue trailing between parted lips, “I do, ay? Maybe you can give me what I always be looking for, then.”

“We ended that a long time ago, don’ be startin’ things ye know is impossible.” You hiss, annoyed at his diversion.

“This could also be something considered impossible, ya know.” Dabi chuckled, finishing his drink before throwing enough for the tab.

“Ye know me crew and I are the impossible, Inferno. You’ll get yer cut for the map, of course. I’m not cruel.” You grin wickedly, spilling your own pockets for the rum as you drown the rest, slamming the cup atop the counter. 

His eyes rolled at yoru dramatics, glaring at the redhead across the bar.

“I see ol’ second rate still watches you like a lost seadog searching for land.”

You raise your chin, telling Kirishima to stay put as he glared at the man beside you. He nodded at your request, staying put as you both made your way to the back entrance of the pub.

“Watch the way ye be talkin’ about my right hand, Inferno.”

“Aye, of course Cap’n.” He mocks, the back door closing behind him as you both walk down the empty alley. 

Dabi takes you a few ways away, back towards the docks as he heads towards his own ship-nothing as extravagant as your own. As soon as you both are to board the ship, a whistle puts you both on guard. 

You glance behind you to see two naval sailors, both men watching the two of you.

“Pardon the intrusion, all docks are to be cleared until ship inspection is over.” The one with dark hair speaks up, a formal voice for a formal guard.

“Sirs, ship inspection? There is no such thing, if I may be so bold.” Dabi speaks out, voice taut as his hands itch to grab his pistol. 

You send him a sharp glare, knowing any wrong moves could blow this whole situation out of the waters. The men take in both of your attire, and you hold back a scoff at the judgment in their eyes. All naval personnel were the same, there was only one man who granted you a judgment free stare. You haven’t seen him in years, and you hoped you never would. He was the best commanding officer they had, if you were to be caught by him it was over. 

“We are inspecting to make sure all ships that are documented are present, and there are none without the proper paperwork. That is all.” The cool voice of the second sailor spoke out, his scar on his left eye giving hint that these men were no pushovers. 

“There will be no trouble, we were just leaving.” Your voice commanded, motioning Dabi to follow as you attempted to walk past the two men. 

They seemed to also want no trouble, letting you walk by until a booming voice halted all movement.

“Who are these people walking along the docks, can you two do your jobs properly?!” The snarling tone captivated you, yet you felt all of that leave as soon as a hand grabbed your upper arm. 

You were quickly spun, red hot gaze burning into your own. You couldn’t help your eye twitching in annoyance, and that only seemed to set him off. He looked you up and down, gaze still on you as he spoke out to the others.

“You were just about to let a couple of pirates walk off, you imbeciles.”

“Pirates? Ye must be mistaken,” you say coolly, trying to remove his hold on you, “We be here for the fine tradin’ posts, of course.”

Strong jaw clenches, and his warm hands grab at you harder till he forcefully moves your sleeve up. The two scars that circled your wrist and branded you as a pirate were now in plain view, your tattoo resting right above it. You sigh, annoyed more than anything with all of the manhandling. 

“Trading posts, of course.” His snide and mocking tone pissed you off more.

Guns were drawn, and you knew there was no way you could ever dodge those.

“Come now gentlemen, we don’t want any unnecessary blood spilling, do we?” A cool smirk came from your companion, and the man holding you quickly grabbed Dabi’s arm to check for his pirate mark as well. 

“Seems you’re not one of them. I suggest you leave before I charge you as an accomplice.” 

Dabi mock bowed before stepping away, hands up in false surrender as he did. 

You expected nothing more from the coward, the man may not be considered a pirate but he surely acts as one. 

However, he was more shady than he was worth.

“Ye rat bastard-”

“I would be quiet now, pirate. I hereby arrest you on accounts of treason against the crown.”

“If ye shall be adressin’ me, ye shall do it properly. It be Cap’n to the likes of ya.” You huff, glaring at the guns still pointed at your head.

You had no chance of taking 3 men on alone, especially now that Dabi had left. You’d just have to wait it out, see what these men were capable of and then escape accordingly. 

“Captain?” The sailor with glasses gaped, and you turn with a smug smile.

“Aye, ye have never seen a woman cap’n before, ha?”

“Woman or not, a pirate is a pirate. Captain…” The blonde holding onto you gazed at your tattoo, only to have his eyes widen. 

“What is it, Bakugou.” The one with the scar spoke out, causing this Bakugou to stare at you.

“You’re el Diablo.” 

It was a statement rather than a question, and you shrug indifferently before pulling your arm from his hold. Instantly feeling the breeze cooling the warm skin he once held. 

“Diablo? He’s said to be well, a man.” 

“Does she look like a man to you?” Bakugou snarled, annoyed as he tugged cuffs from his waist. 

“Oh,” your eyes scan the item, “Commodore, I don’ think this be the best time for ye to try anything like that out on me. Not until i get a couple o’ grogs in me system first.”

You speak suggestively, wincing as he clamps on the cuffs tight. The dug into your skin painfully, cold metal feeling like flames on your wrist. 

“Watch your tongue, Captain. I may just cut it off.”

You were then dragged by the man to the naval ship, a large one with the name ‘Queens Jewel’ painted along the side. Forced up on the deck, you felt the stares of different official sailors. You keep a smirk on your lips, not trying to give more than needed. 

A hand dug itself into your shoulder as you were forced below, a row of cell blocks coming into view. You glance for keys, or any sort of escape, but red meets your wandering (e/c).

“You wont find anything in here, my crew isn’t as stupid as you might believe.”

“On the contrary, I don’ believe yer crew is stupid. I believe that to be all ye, commodore.” 

He growled, grabbing you by the front of your coat as he raised you closer to his face. 

“I believe you have no room to talk here, pirate.”

This was the first time you had gotten a close look at the man, he was large and burly, truly someone worthy of his title. Light battle scars littered his face, very faint and from probably nothing more than just training. His blond hair was the opposite of what you assumed a proper commodore should have; instead of neat and kept, it was wild and untamed-as was the apparent temper he had. His eyes intrigued you the most, the opposite of your calming blue seas, this man's eyes were a storming red. There was a feel of harshness, yet justice. Anger, yet levelheadedness. His eyes were contradicting, the color of a sunset reflecting off the blue shores below.

What a sight indeed.

“Now now, best ye be not doin’ anything ye shall regret, ay.”

“I will regret nothing, it’s my personal joy to watch the scum of the seas get what they deserve.”

He tossed you harshly into the cell, locking it up before scrunching his nose at you. You return the sentiment, your playful facade dropped as a menacing scowl appears. 

“Scum of the seas? Ye be one to talk, all ye be is a pawn of the queen. We ‘scum’ have morals, ye do not.”

“Hah? Morals, in a pirate?” He scoffs.

“Aye, a pirate lives by the code of which their forefathers have written with their own blood and souls. Ye follow the deranged orders of a madwoman who cares nothing about the people below ‘er.” You scoot back, leaning your back against the wall of the cell. 

You fully expected the man, who was called Bakugou if you remembered correctly, to up and leave. To call you a dirty pirate before storming away from the cell. You felt the ship move beneath you as it began to sail off, so surely they needed him to call out commands to his crew of misfits. However, to your surprise he had sat on a crate by the bars, watching you intently. You meet his gaze, unafraid to look into his cool-hellfire eyes. 

“The queen is a woman who does what she can for the people. It’s you pirates who pillage and kill, not us. We follow orders because they keep commoners safe.”

“Who do ya think we be, monsters!? We may be lookin’ out for our own, but if ye give a snake a reason to strike, strike it shall. Ye leave it be, it shall grant ye the same respect of that which it be given. Pirates respect those who be deserving.”

“And we don’t.”

“No.”

The waves brushing along the sides of the ship and the creaking of the motions soothed your temper, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the wall. Hoping this conversation was over. There was no navy sailor who you have ever come across who was worthy of your respect, this man was not going to be one of them either it seemed. Although, the brash attitude from early looked to be faded, a blunt yet calm one in its place. Contradicting once again, just like his eyes.

Your own snapped opened as you heard him stand, watching as he narrowed his gaze in thought.

“Tch. For a pirate who makes claims they sail the open waters, you appear to be sheltered. Where has your false sense come from.”

“It not be false,” you whisper, eyes closing once more as memories surface, “it be real, whether ye believe me or not is none of my business. I don’ trust ye to keep your mouth shut anyways.”

“Fair enough, however it is a pirate you cannot trust. I will never forget my lessons. You have your own reasons, and I have mine. I know first hand of the damage you pirates can do, I won’t stand for it.” You heard him speak through clenched teeth. 

“Then sit, yer head be full of lies”

“It is you whose words are false and based on only personal gain.”

“A man of the queen may not keep their word, but a man of the sea shall, commodore.”

“Well, you can believe I shall keep my word on this: your end is soon, Captain Diablo. You have nowhere to run, and you shall be put to death for your crimes.”

His footsteps begin to fade, his voice echoing in your head as he leaves.

“Soon enough the one who be telling the truth will be laughin’. Dead men tell no tales, Commodore. Yet neither will a lost man, ya see.” You laugh to yourself, not hearing a reply as he leaves the room. 

A few hours go by and you are visited once more by the intriguing man, a tray of food in his hands. You make no move to go towards it as he slides it in, eyes still closed and body still in the same position as he left. 

He sighed in annoyance, and you could only help but smirk.

“What’s with the look, you halfwit.”

The seas rock with more force, the boat swaying more as if a storm was coming forth. Then it happened, the sounds of fighting happening above, causing Bakugou to curse out in question. 

“Ye see commodore,” Your eyes flutter open, grinning evilly as he stared back with anger and confusion, “tis as i said, a lost man will tell no tales. I am to be lost, ye have no hopes of finding me.”

Then the door leading to the cellar room burst open, and you promised yourself you would never forget that look of terror and hatred in those bright sea-ruby eyes. You have never cared for another color other than your seas, often trying to find replacements, with no luck. Yet, while they weren’t as pretty as your blue ocean below you, they were just good enough that you’ve found yourself hoping to see them again.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #53: Asterios

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re building Asterios, a truly a-maze-ing character. Asterios is a Totem Barbarian/ Brute Fighter mix, an expert in fighting and traveling underground.

Check out the build level by level below the cut, or look at the summary over here.

Race and Background

There’s a surprising number of races available for the aspiring minotaur and minotaur adjacent player. For this build we’re grabbing the Minotaur from Planeshift: Amonkhet. I know they’re technically ram-headed, but you can always fix that in post. This race gives Asterios +2 Strength and +1 Constitution and a Natural Weapon, horns that can deal 1d6 plus your strength modifier in bludgeoning damage as an unarmed attack. He also has Relentless Endurance, letting him drop to 1 HP instead of zero once per long rest if he isn’t killed outright. His Savage Attacks let him add an extra die to critical damage, and he’s Menacing, giving him proficiency in Intimidation. So yeah, this is pretty much Berserker: The Race.

For Asterios’ background, we’ll be modifying the Outlander background a bit. Grab Athletics and Survival as normal, but instead of the normal feature we’re getting Deep Delver from Out of the Abyss, letting Asterios retrace his steps in underground passages and forage in caves.

Stats

Strength is going to be your highest stat: those axes aren’t just for show. Constitution is your second highest; neither are those scars. Third is your Wisdom: it’s unusually high for a berserker; you’re great at finding your way in a maze, and picking out the noises of anyone trapped with you. Fourth is Dexterity, it’s just not something we particularly need. You’re nice enough, but people don’t really get the chance to know you thanks to your low Charisma. Finally, dump Intelligence. You lived in a maze your entire life, and now you’re stuck with a Madness Enhancement too.

Class Levels

1. Barbarian 1: Yeah I know, shocking. First level barbarians get Rage, letting you enter a state of madness as a bonus action, gaining advantage on strength checks and saves, a damage bonus to strength based weapon attacks, and resistance to bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage. You can’t cast or concentrate on spells for the duration, which is 1 minute, if you’re knocked unconscious, or if you fail to take damage or attack a hostile within a round. Your rages recharge on long rests.

You also get Unarmored Defense, giving you an AC based on your Dexterity and Constitution while not wearing armor.

When starting as a barbarian, you get proficiency in Strength and Constitution saves, as well as two barbarian skills. You’re already part animal, so Animal Handling is an easy pick, and hunting down prey in a maze requires pretty good Perception. 

For your weapon, we’re going with Battleaxes. We would’ve gone bigger, but we need some dual wielding, and we’re already cutting it close with these. Use one for now, we’ll take care of it later.

2. Barbarian 2: Now that your weaponry is fully online, lets get good with it. Second level barbarians can perform a Reckless Attack, gaining advantage on all attacks for one turn at the cost of all attacks targeting you getting advantage for a turn as well. You also get a Danger Sense, granting advantage on dexterity saves against effects you can see.

3. Barbarian 3: Third level barbarians set down their primal path. Totem barbarians become a Spirit Seeker, letting them cast Beast Sense and Speak with Animals as rituals. It isn’t canon compliant, but you are 50% animal anyway, so why not?

You also get a Totem Spirit at this level. The closest thing to a bull on the totem list is an elk, but you could also make an argument for the Bear totem, which is why we’re going with that one. While raging, you resist all damage except for psychic damage. People go into your labyrinth expecting to deal extra damage to you because of your class, so lets flip that on its head and really make them work for it.

4. Barbarian 4: Use your first ASI to grab the Dual Wielder feat, letting you dual wield weapons even if they don’t have the light attribute. Your axes? Definitely not light. You also get +1 AC while dual wielding weapons.

5. Barbarian 5: Fifth level barbarians get an Extra Attack, letting you attack twice as an action. This means you can attack three times a turn with your bonus action. We don’t even have enough hits to match your buster brave chain yet, but we’ll get there.

6. Fighter 1: First level fighters get a Fighting Style. Two-Weapon Fighting lets you add your ability modifier to offhand attacks, perfect for the giant bull-man with his hands full. Second Wind lets you spend a bonus action to heal yourself. You don’t really have a healing factor of your own, but we can say Guda used a command spell.

7. Fighter 2: You can now Action Surge once per short rest, adding an extra action to your turn. If you think hitting people is good, you should try hitting them more, it’s awesome. For those of you keeping track at home, we’re now packing five hits in a single turn.

8. Fighter 3: Third level fighters pick their archetype. Straight from the Unearthed Arcana: Three Subclasses, the Brute gains Brute Force when they take the subclass. Currently, you can add 1d4 to any damage roll you make with weapons you’re proficient with. It’s not particularly strong yet, but it’ll grow in time.

9. Fighter 4: Use your next ASI to grab Keen Mind. This feat’s mostly for flavor, but knowing what direction north is can come in handy in areas with no point of reference, like underground.

10. Fighter 5: Fifth level fighters get an Extra Attack, but sadly this doesn’t stack with your barbarian Extra Attack. After this one they will.

11. Fighter 6: Odd numbers give me hives, so use this ASI to round out your Strength and Constitution for more health, AC, damage, and accuracy.

12. Fighter 7: Seventh level brutes have Brutish Durability, letting you add 1d6 to all saving throws you make, all the time. If this is a death saving throw, and this would cause the total to go over 20, it acts as though you rolled a 20 instead. You don’t go down easy, and keeping you down is even harder.

13. Fighter 8: Maximize your Strength with this next ASI for more accuracy and damage.

14. Fighter 9: Ninth level fighters are Indomitable, letting you reroll a failed saving throw once per long rest. I’m not entirely sure if that includes the d6 from brutish durability; just keep it consistent to minimize DM headaches.

15. Fighter 10: At tenth level, your Brute Force increases to 1d6, and you gain an Additional Fighting Style. Blind Fighting means you don’t have disadvantage on attacks against creatures you can’t see. One problem with minotaurs: they don’t have darkvision.

16. Barbarian 6: Sixth level Totem Warriors gain an Aspect of the Beast. At this level, the Wolf totem lets you track at a fast pace while traveling, and move stealthily at a normal pace. Depending on how big your labyrinth is, travel rules might come into play, so this can help you track down anyone who wanders in without letting them catch on.

17. Fighter 11: Eleventh level fighters get another Extra Attack at each action. Now you do four attacks per turn, and seven if you use your action surge. 

18. Fighter 12: Use your next ASI to increase your Constitution for more health and AC.

19. Fighter 13: Thirteenth level fighters get a second use of Indomitable per long rest. I’d save them for your death saves, you’re pretty good at those already.

20. Fighter 14: Use your last ASI to get the Charger feat. If you dash as your main action, you can use your bonus action to make one weapon attack or shove a creature. If you move 10′ in a straight line first, you can add 5 to the damage roll or push the target 10′ away when you shove. Honestly, you could really do most of this already with your offhand weapon, but I felt bad that I picked the one Minotaur race without a charge ability.

Pros

It’s really nothing you haven’t seen on the other berserker builds by now.

You hit really hard. Your normal attacks are almost as strong as a regular person’s critical, and your critical hits are almost at full barbarian level. Add to that the fact that you’re making four attacks per turn on a normal round, and you’re dishing out a lot of damage.

You’re also really hard to kill. The bear totem makes your 200 and change HP go a long way, your Durability makes your saves just a bit easier to make, and even makes you more likely to pull through on death saves.

You’re really good at fighting and tracking creatures in subterranean areas. You’d think that would be a niche subject, but half this game’s title is “Dungeons”, so I think you’re set. You always know your way, and you don’t need a light source to beat down monsters.

Cons

Like a lot of berserkers, you struggle with ranged and magical damage, unless your DM is generous with magic axes. This means high-level enemies can still be more of a threat than you’d like.

Your low scores in Dexterity and Wisdom mean you’re weak in some of the most important saves in the game. Your d6 and indomitable can help a bit, but if the enemy puts a lot of pressure on this, you won’t last long.

Next up: We’re going back to Roma!