#my sun bright mage

[aroaceamyrosearchive]

Amy rose figurine??????👀👀👀👀👀

SHE!!!!!

my friend @findthir got it for me :D

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 21

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 20, Part 22

Warning! This series is SAGAU and Imposter AU so expect gore. Although this chapter focus more on mental distress rather then physical.

There's a soft light that shines in front of you, lulling you to open your eyes. Pure white greets you as you slowly come to your senses.

There's no feeling in your body, but it doesn't worry you. The boundless white space you exist in is comforting. The sky whirls around you as new colors burst into being.

The once blank canvas is now painted a dark sky on your left with stars sparkling like jewels. On your right is the morning sky, bright blue with clouds adorning it delicately.

It's silent but peaceful. Your relaxed conscious is stirred from its slumber by a voice echoing around you.

“Why have you returned?” 

It’s commanding, yet graceful. A cold compassion or a warm hostility?

“The deal has been finalized, and your return was never meant to be. No, that's incorrect.” A pensive hum is heard before the voice continues.

“You were meant to return at some point, but… not now, not yet. Teyvat seems to have sped up the process. While that doesn’t break the deal, I certainly won’t tolerate it amicably.”

A darker tone is used at the end of their words, before the gorgeous sky is overcome by dark red blocks. The serenity you feel is replaced by panic. You’re helpless to stop it from taking over everything.

Your vision begins to swarm with the blood-colored familiar blocks. As crimson takes over, the voice finishes their words.

“I won’t let you back so easily.” The last bits of your vision is covered and your lungs wheeze from the pain of the panic-

“Gasp-” 

You sit up in the bed as sweat dots your skin, your lungs burn, and your fingers tremble from the grip you have on the covers. Eyes darting around the small room you’re in, your brain is unable to process everything as it spins.

The dream lingers in your mind. The red blocks poke at the edge of your eyes, the voice continues to echo through your mind. Leaning back, you rest your head on the headboard, the cool wood is a relief on your sweaty skin.

Releasing your bruising grip on the blankets, you rest your palms on your chest. You do your best to pay no mind to how your hands shake. Closing your eyes, a breath is inhaled and kept in.

One… That painting like sky, where else could you see something similar?

Two… The voice that spoke about Teyvat and you so casually, as if knowing everything.

Three… A status similar to an Archon, or mage? No, maybe even higher.

Four… Those red blocks have only been seen once before.

Five… You know who it is now.

The breath is exhaled, and your eyes flutter open at your revelation. Not like she was meaning to hide it. In fact, you could be certain that she wanted you to know that she was Celestia.

Sunlight begins to stream past the edges of the curtain, the wooden floor is cold against your bare feet as you get off the bed. Yanking the curtains and opening the window, you’re greeted with the sun barely peeking out and dew still present on the greenery. 

The thought of how early you’ve been forced awake already sours your mood further.

It’s not anytime near 9 am, you would be lucky if it was half past 7 am. Sighing, you flop back onto the bed and reach for that connection between you and Teyvat.

‘Did you see that dream?’ You ask as you stare out the window from your spot. Silence envelops the room as you wait patiently. The soft beating of wings comes from the window, a Geo Crystalfly glides into the room before resting on the bedding next to you.

‘I’ll take that as a yes. What deal did Celestia make that involves me? What part did you play in speeding up my migration to this world?’ Staring firmly at the Crystalfly you remain in your spot. 

The amber wings pause and the rocky outline stick together, keeping the wings closed. The crystal exterior body offers no answer to your expectant eyes.

‘Why won’t you respond now? You’re not Zhongli who is obligated to abide by a contract. Am I not your god?’ A bubble of frustration rises at the continued silence. The Crystalfly lowers itself further against the sheets, as if bowing to you.

But you didn’t want a useless bow. You wanted answers.

‘This situation fundamentally involves me. You, or Celestia, or whoever else is in this mess brought me here. And now I’m stuck acting out this stupid Oracle role and I can’t even get a single answer as to why?’

More Geo Crystalflies enter the room, all of them perch on the bed and mimic the bowing gesture. As if that useless, passive action could subdue your ire.

‘I’ve spent every day in this damn world fighting for my life! I just barely recovered from the brink of death! And yet when I ask about this strange situation and suspicious behavior, I get no response? NOT EVEN AN INDIRECT ONE?!’

Maybe it was all the stress you’ve been under, or the pain that still lingers in your body. Some would even say it was all the emotional hurt you’ve felt at having all the characters you treasured dearly treat you like this. But you couldn’t stop yourself from raising your hand in anger, rapidly coming down on the quivering Crystalflies that just refused to move-

Clink!

Your hand is abruptly stopped by the sound of metal hitting the table. You tore your eyes away from the Crystalflies to land on a weasel sitting on the table, a single mora lays at it’s feet.

Recognizing it vaguely as the weasel thief or mora weasels that treasure hoarders train, you stare at it unimpressed. It comes closer to you as the Crystalflies gently flap away to form a path. Beady eyes stare up at you pleadingly as the backpack on it jingles with all the mora inside.

Fingers unbuckling the straps, you remove the backpack and peer into the bag. The brown bag must only hold about 500 Mora, but mora is still mora, and you empty it into your bag. Once finished, you turn back to the Crystalflies ready to intimidate and interrogate more. You only refrain when the scurrying of multiple feet catches your attention.

What has to be at least 10 weasel thieves climbing through the open window, all carrying bags stuffed to the brim. Some hold 750 Mora, while others hold 1,000. Each time you unclip the bag and pour the mora into your bag. And each time you turn towards the Crystalflies, more weasels come through.

“Alright, alright, I get it.” You groan aloud as you ignore the assortment of weasels in the room, choosing to instead sit on the bed. The Crystalflies return to the bowing position as you gaze down at them with an unreadable expression.

Carefully, you scoop up the first Crystalfly that arrived into your hands, guilt of what you had almost done wraps around your heart like a vice.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to hit you. Although this whole gatekeeping vital information is annoying, you’ve been nothing but helpful to me. Besides, you may be keeping quiet due to a threat of some sort that the divulging of information could pose.’

You could hear the sounds of the weasels returning with more and more gifts. No doubt a way for Teyvat to show its gratitude to your ‘mercy’. With pursed lips, you ignore the actions and speak to Teyvat gently.

‘I’m afraid, Teyvat. Afraid that Celestia will take drastic measures to keep me from ‘returning’ or whatever. I’m 99% that Celestia is the one who disabled my teleporting feature and why I was only able to telepathically teleport those few times. For all I know, it could be a permanent disability. I don’t want to be limited more than I already am. If it goes too far, then I may even lose those things that proved me as an Oracle. And if that happens…’

Trailing off, you close your eyes and let out a bitter sigh. Setting the Geo Crystalfly back down, its amber wings fluttering in response, you turn to the weasels. Bags of mora, jewelry, wild fruit and small gemstones are beginning to fill up the table.

Opening the flap of your bag, you point at it and then at the table. “I want you guys to put all of that into my bag. If you have bags for me to open for you, bring them to me.”

A resounding trill is heard from them before the horde of Crystalflies flew out of the window. Deciding to leave the window open, you grab the letters and gifts from your previous visitors and bring them onto the bed.

The pitter-patter of the weasels feet and occasional flap of the Geo Crystalflies wing is heard in the background as you prepare for the day. Exiting the room and crossing the silent halls, you get to what has to be the bathroom and finish your morning routine.

The shower you take was the perfect opportunity to examine how your body is after all the healing. The bandages are removed and disposed of as you look into the foggy mirror. 

Small scars in the shape of slits are seen on your body, Yelan’s arrows were no joke. The ice from Shenhe’s attacks left lighter toned patches on your calves too. Minor bruises and cuts were still healing up, but the small sting from the water didn’t bother you. If anything, it was the jagged and uneven scars along your spine that brought your mood down. 

You were lucky that your broken spine didn’t cut into your spinal cord and paralyze you…

Changing into clean clothes and wrapping some new bandages, you do it all with a sense of apathy. Wouldn’t the thought of nearly being paralyzed have more of an effect? Yet when you thought of it, you could only imagine a sense of relief…

Looking back at the now clear mirror, you reach up for your mask. The battered mask is slipped off and placed on the counter. Familiar eyes stare back, and a grimace plays on your lips.

A purple bruise makes itself known on your temple, and poorly cared for skin muddles your features. The bridge of your nose, the eyes that crinkle at your attempt of a smile, even the way your full face comes together is so-

Foreign.

It’s not yours, not anymore. 

It’s the Creators. The God that everyone worships as the one and only bearer of gold blood and highest form of authority.

Y/N does not have a face. 

You have a title and a mask to be known by. A manner of speaking that leaves all to be swindled and led by without a true clue as to what goes on. 

Licking your cracked lips, you adorn the mask once more and return to the room. Both the weasels and Crystalflies have already left, leaving it bare of activity. Closing the bag absentmindedly, you grab the medication bottles left on your bedside table. 

Following the instructions Baizhu told you last night, you drink the medication as prescribed and gag at the taste. Setting all the medication aside, you sit down on the bed again and stare at the pile on the bed.

The letters and gifts from everyone that tried to visit are quickly sorted into two piles. You dig into the designated gift pile first.

A small box is opened to reveal a pair of armored fingerless gloves. It’s not super hard to guess your size, but they fit perfectly. The second and cuter box is opened with a delicious scent imprinting its first impression.

No one else could make food that smells this good except for Xiangling. Taking advantage of the early hours AKA no Baizhu, you wolf down the meal without properly admiring it. The spicy dish won’t do your still sensitive stomach any favors, but at least you enjoyed it.

A folded up paper is the next gift. Unraveling it shows a crude drawing of a brown haired girl with a pink flower, a tall man with glasses, a boy with a color palette you barely remember and a masked figure that had to be you. 

Yiran, the little girl that you saved, had to be the one who drew this. That’s who must have spread the word and why Baizhu asked you to be lenient. Only her father, Kuan, could afford to bring her here.

The uneven letters spelling ‘My Heroes!’ at the bottom of the drawing made you smile a little. It was good that she was not only healed enough, but also happy enough to draw this for you. 

The boy next to her in the drawing brought a sadder feeling. You didn’t remember him, but you did remember his mother. Her gaunt face and pale complexion came to mind as you pocketed the drawing. You weren’t sure if you could handle facing her.

The next gift evoked a stronger sense of despair as a patchy pouch was opened to show various knick-knacks. Pretty rocks, a tin with a string, shiny coins and worn out dice. You were familiar with the nature of these objects.

Most would see it as trash, but you knew it to be toys that were just as much, if not more fun, than the toys found in shops. Bored kids with nothing to do and nothing to use will find ways to entertain themselves, and being impoverished only fuels their creativity. 

Trying to push away those nostalgic melancholic feelings, you open the last gift. A simple string necklace with a dark blue stone hanging from it laid in the box. The icy blue engraved symbol on it reminded you of Chongyun.

After disposing the trash, you put the drawing and the pouch into your bag. You reached for the letters next and opened the first one that you touched.

It was from Kuan, not unexpected, but you were interested in seeing what he had to say. What part he played in your identity getting spread around.

Most of it was profuse thanks for your completion of the commission and that the Adventurers Guild had the payment. Then it was how once Yiran had woken up, she had sneaked into the room when Baizhu was working and saw you.

Apparently she hadn’t been able to heal properly and was stuck on bed rest due to her grief. The kidnapping, death of her friend and finding out that you were going to be punished by the Adepti from the other kids created a mental block preventing her from healing.

But after seeing you and that you were still alive, her pain was eased enough that she was able to finally recover. You felt bad that she was sick all this time while you were being chased down, but she’s better now. And that’s all that mattered.

The next letter was actually from Kazuha. It detailed the sights that he had seen during his exploration of the Lisha area. It quickly turned into how panicked he felt when the wind pushed him to return to Liyue Harbor. The agonizing pain he felt over the rumors of a masked person being rushed into Bubu’s Pharmacy.

As no visitors were allowed, he went to Beidou and relayed the news. She had already finished her business and was preparing to leave. So he left you this letter and the armored gloves from Beidou.

Folding up the letter with the red and orange patterned leaf, you put it back into your bag. A knock on the door caught your attention before it opened slightly to show Qiqi.

“Oh, you’re awake.” She stands at the door frame until you nod, allowing her inside. She ambles inside with a cart of food and medicine. “Please take your medicine with the tea and eat the breakfast.” 

She leaves just as quick as she came. As you weren’t starving after Xianglings meal, you took your time with breakfast. The medicine even with the tea tasted pretty bad.

Grabbing the next letter, a faint scent of food lingers on it, letting you know who sent it. Xiangling’s letter was small enough to be confused for a note, but it still easily conveyed her wreck of emotions. It ended with her mourning the fact that she couldn’t visit after dropping off the letter due to a rematch with a Monstadter that she scheduled long in advance.

A letter with a fancy wax seal was next. Opening it, you found the most horrendous handwriting you’ve ever seen. No matter how many times you rubbed your fingers on it, hoping that Tevyat could translate the mess of a letter, it just wouldn’t get any better.

The most you could make out was that Xingqui and Chongyun tried to visit but were denied. That the amulet was a gift from Chongyun that had a spell to protect you from evil spirits. And finally, that they're going to visit sometime today.

Didn’t Xingqui have some connection with Albedo? That would be an easy way to be innocently introduced into Mondstadt.

The next one thankfully did have eligible handwriting, it was a mix of bold letters and graceful strokes. Yun Jin and Xinyan both came to visit, but only Yun Jin would have time to come today.

The thought of having to entertain all these guests with Baizhu still waiting on the explanation of your Oracle status was not improving your desire to just vanish from Liyue. You forgot how tiring it was to constantly string up webs of lies that make up a cohesive story. It was like being constantly at work with the threat of danger on a brand-new level.

That letter is quickly dismissed and you grab the final letter. The paper is stained, and the edges are worn, opening it a strange set of words are found inside it.

“Hello, do you remember me?”

Frowning, you continue to read it as you search through your memories. The words make little sense until you come across a line that summons a wave of needless guilt.

“Those children enjoyed choosing those gifts for you. They remind me of my son.”

You don’t really want to finish this letter anymore.

Despite your internal feelings, you continue to skim through the letter. It touches on how they’re all adjusting to life back on the streets. 

How the kids work together more but wail even louder in the night. The people that curse them out for coming back, the few items they had left swept away by the government as ‘trash’. The empty and hollow feeling she carries now that her son is gone.

She wished that she had given him up at birth like she was advised. That maybe at least then he would still be alive.  

She mentions her son at least once every line into the letter. 

It’s only when you see the curves of the ink spelling out his name that you scrunch up the paper. The paper crinkles as your teeth grit together, the sounds perfectly in tune with each other. 

The anger is confusing. You don’t know the kid, so why should you feel guilty? Why should you feel guilty that she chose to share her anguish with you? Why does the thought of being even more aware of that boy make your heart race?

Slowly, you open the now wrinkled and slightly torn paper and skip straight to the bottom.

“I know you probably don’t care. You never promised me that you could save him or deliver him alive to me. But it’s easier to share these feelings with someone separated from this situation than the people who are already suffering with me.”

“I should take these feelings to the Creator and beg for some relief from my pain, yet I can’t even muster the strength to care for the tongue I ripped out in my mourning. How could I possibly keep this pain to me and the Creator alone? Don’t fret about helping me. I leave that all up to our God.”

That end soothes your racing heart and warped feelings, it’s clear to you now.

You’re beginning to feel the guilt from being their God but unable to actually help with anything. Celestia somehow limited you, none of your acolytes would ever believe you to be the Creator, and the powers you do have access to now are useless.

Was it your fault? Could you have been faster and given that boy some food to have saved him? Can you speak to some form of authority and have them help those victims?

Mindlessly, you begin to tear up the letter. It’s therapeutic to watch the scraps fall onto the tray. Each ink stained paper is ripped with shaking fingers, almost like you’re ripping apart the physical manifestation of your guilt.

It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.

You’re not their God, you’re just the Oracle. 

The truth doesn’t matter now. If this world can’t accept you wholeheartedly as the human you are, then why should you work to be seen as the God they cherish so much?

As if on cue, ruby droplets fall onto the worn shredded paper on the tray from the paper cuts you gained from your actions. The new gloves you got from Beidou are threatened to be stained as the red begins to trail down, but you quickly swipe it away.

Cursing yourself internally over the mess you made, you fumble with the drawer next to you for some bandages, not even hearing the repeated knocking on the door. It’s only when it’s opened and the pitter-patter of steps nearing you make you look toward it.

Cold, small fingers wrap around your own as magenta eyes stare up at you past the talisman hanging down from her hat.

“What happened?” Qiqi drawls, her signature zombie-like tone makes shame bubble up within you. Hanging your head, you don’t respond as you avoid her eyes. 

You don’t feel normal.

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

The pharmacy is noisy as people frequently pass by the door to your room. Humming a catchy tune, you drum your fingers on the window sill as you watch outside the window. You imagine the wood of the sill must be cool, but you can’t tell under the bandages wrapped around your fingers. 

Baizhu had visited you not too long ago to check on your leftover wounds and apply the topical medication. The cool moisture of the herbal medicine cooled down your body and prevented your apparent fever from worsening. 

The room is clean aside from the bag you have left sitting on the bed with your belongings safely tucked away. 

A small bag lies inside with the bloodied paper remains sitting inside it. You still aren’t sure if you were better off keeping it or throwing away. The series of knocks on your door bring your attention away from the scenery outside the window.

Staring for a second to be sure if you heard correctly, softer rapping follows up.

“Come in.” You call out before moving closer to the middle of the room. It swings open to show a girl with a shiny pink flower hairpin and a tall man wearing glasses. The smile on Kuan’s face is such a stark difference to the dark circles and sullen expression he wore when you first met him.

Yiran has bright eyes and a smile that could rival match the sun. Propufse thanks leave them both as Yiran keeps her fingers wrapped tight around her father’s. She’s still pale and clings to her father's hand when he moves to give you a handshake, but you gracefully ignore it.

“-Oh, and I’m so sorry that you’re being talked about by so many people. I really didn’t expect it to spread so far when I let her tell those other children that you saved that you were alive and recovering.” He looks kindly down at Yiran before gently urging her. “You too, Yiran, you have to apologize.”

Her eyes droop a little, but she still bows her head slightly as she apologizes. “I’m sorry, I just wanted my friends to know you were okay.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Thank you for the drawing.” You smile at them with ease and maintain small talk with them both a while longer before they leave. The door swings close, and your expression flattens at the same time.

Turning back to the window, you sit again and stare outside. The fluffy white clouds roll past in the blue sky as you allow your mind to go quiet. You just want a brief reprise from the stress you’ve been under all this time.

Time to just exist without having to worry about proving why you deserve to live in this world or your old one. Especially with Ningguang and your travel to the next region so close.

Maybe you took a nap or just dozed off, but the strum of a guitar brought your hazy mind back to awareness. Lifting your head from your arms crossed on the windowsill you see Xinyan taking steps two at a time as she runs from Millelith soldiers. 

She quickly jumps off the top step onto the concrete so far below as she continues to play her guitar. It’s impressive, but you can’t help but be irked that soldiers had enough time to chase Xinyan but not help find kidnapped children.

That spiral of thoughts is interrupted as Yun Jin walks up the same set of stairs to Bubu Pharmacy as the soldiers disappear deeper into the city. Outwardly, she’s perfectly maintained, but the slight fidget of her fingers are like a warning sign.

The first and last time you spoke to her was the day of her ‘Lonely Chameleon’ performance that you vaguely recall had her promising to clear up the misunderstanding with Keqing. 

What a bunch of good that did.

Yun Jin leaves your sight as she enters the building, and you move away from the window to crack the door open. Sitting on the foot of the bed, you patiently wait for Yun Jin to arrive. The biggest thing you relied on her about was her conversation with Keqing. So at least the situation with the Liyue Qixing can’t get any worse.

A polite knock sounds on the door before you call her in. Yun Jin steps in and closes the door behind her with a graceful smile that you return pleasantly.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you Y/N. I’m unsure if you read the letter but Xinyan and I were incredibly worried. Are you feeling any better?”

It’s not small talk, she’s genuinely concerned, but you have to force the undeserved annoyance down. “I’m feeling way better, and I’m basically almost back to normal. I’ll be discharged today, so don’t worry. Thank you for your concern.” God, you haven’t felt this fake in a while.

Yun Jin walks closer before stopping in front of you, polite as she is, she's not going to ask for a seat so you pat the spot on the bed next to you. Small talk is needlessly exchanged for a few more minutes, but you’re beginning to feel antsy from being stuck in your worry over how Keqing reacted.

“What performance did you do the day after we met? I remember you mentioning how you would speak to Keqing on my behalf after that play.” There it goes again, her fingers twitch before she tightly clasp them together on her lap.

“The performance went well. Thankfully nothing like the Geovishap hatchling accident happened so it wasn’t as stressful. I-I did get to talk to the Yuheng, but I’m afraid she didn’t put much trust into my words.” Just as you thought.

Her eyes squint slightly as she stares down at her lap, the little tremble of her lips and crack in her manners surprises you. You didn’t think she would feel this guilty over it.

“The questions she asked me about how or even just proof of your oracle status were troublesome to say the least. I genuinely didn’t have an answer for most of them and the ones I did weren’t very in-depth. I apologize Y/N.”

Placing your hand on her shoulder, your head shakes softly to deny her words. “Don’t worry about it, Yun Jin. I have a chance to personally refute some of the suspicions on me today. Thank you for at least trying, I just have one question.”

A part of you feels bad that you’re unintentionally displaying your frustrations on Yun Jin but not enough to stop you from asking your question. Her shoulders tense under your hand, and her face freezes when she hears your question.

“Did all those questions make you question whether I’m actually the Creator’s oracle?”

You can only force your lips into a smile that threatens to dissolve into a scowl with every fiber of your self-control at her body's reaction.

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

It’s disappointing, you think to yourself, as Yun Jin basically flees the room. The excuses she gave you and topic changes she tried to pull were pathetic, but you weren’t surprised considering how you went straight for the throat. 

Yun Jin was a beast when it came to stage affairs and directing in arts, but there’s little to nothing she has to counter your precise attack. In a way, it’s smart for her to run rather then stand her ground and try to answer. 

Standing up, you stretch your body, enjoying the absence of pain. The sly grin you wear is so much more comfortable than the bitter frown you’ve worn these past few days. Yun Jin was simply a good warm up, a nice way to get back into the ‘Oracle’ headspace you’ve developed.

It didn’t matter if you were their God or the Oracle.

Money, shelter, food, and a sense of security were all you needed in life. That is what you’ve focused on to survive all these years, and Teyvat will be no different. If playing along to the cult’s belief of the Creator being the Almighty guarantees your survival, then you’ll happily do so and benefit from their obsession.

Smiling with renewed vigor, you relax on the bed as the sound of footsteps came closer. The hissing of a snake and the muffled words of a man could be heard steadily arriving. 

If Yun Jin was a warm-up then Baizhu was your practice. Tonight you had to face Ningguang and that required all your skills to be in top shape lest you end up being killed by her hands.

The door swings open without warning as yellow snake eyes and fushia eyes meet your own eyes hidden beneath your mask. Smiling without a care, you call out to the contracted partners.

“Nice to see you again so soon Dr. Baizhu and it’s nice to meet you Changsheng. You’re here for the scar tissue sample and to ask some questions about my background, right? Come in! Just be sure to close the door behind you…”

Still alive, surprisingly… It's hard to believe that my last update on this story was Nov 14. If you want to hear my excuses as to why it takes long, it basically boils down to school, sick, holiday, and family lol. Plus money but when is it done a problem? But I came back and was working on it very slowly throughout all this time! The next update will take long too as finals are till the 22nd. And then the next semester on the 17(?) of Jan so yeah, little to no break. Thanks to my editor who got it done quite fast which is why the chapter is up now, Sunday night or rather early Monday. I hope it gives you all a good start to the week. To actually talk about about the story, I gotta say that it's longer then I thought. There's still a few leftover tasks to complete before Y/N can truly leave. As well as a hint to the overarching threat now that we got this Celestia hint. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and the series! If your name is in italics that means I couldn't tag you for whatever reason. If you are missing from the taglist and I didn't respond to your comment or ask to be added to the taglist, leave a comment here so I can check it. Taglist: Open as always!

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[baldurs-gape]

Worry Worms

A little shared fact about the party was that the worms were in communication with each other. Even with the Emperor's protection, the group were bound in a way, their worms connected to each other. Sometimes it was awkward, other times funny and sometimes frustrating. Yet the worst were the moments where flashes of the past and the pain it held flashed through the group.

The first signs of a shared existence were the pang of hunger. It wasn't obvious to start with, everyone migrated to the supply packs for snacks and ate with more gusto. Yet the hunger was left unsated. Bickering turned to annoyed disagreements and huffy sulks. Lae'zel refused to even look at Shadowheart over the simple fact that the berries they'd had stashed away were now mixed with nuts.

"Perhaps we ought to ask Astarion to feed?" Wyll muttered to Karlach quietly. "It's driving me insane."

"Urgh, yes. I can't eat another mouthful but I'm still starving. Is this what being a vampire is like?"

"Like what?" Astarion sauntered up to them, thumb rubbing at the corner of his mouth as though wiping away the last dribbles of blood after feeding.

An awkward silence held them all in suspense until Wyll cleared his throat. "This hunger. Is this your day to day experience?"

Of all the thing they expected, an honest laugh was not on the list. Astarion wasn't even mocking them, he was genuinely tickled by the question.

"Darling, this hunger isn't mine. It has been dogging me as much as you by the sounds of it."

Which just left one real suspect. The one who had been most graceful at handling the sudden affliction. That evening Gale sheepishly admitted to his affliction. Once he'd consumed a locket, the hunger faded from all their minds.

If only things could be as simple. For a while it seemed like it was. The weather was gorgeous, sun bright and hot. It burned fiercely as they wandered along their path. Armour was slowly stripped, so were clothes where possible. Any stream they crossed, most of them dipped into it with sighs of relief.

"It's hot as the hells themselves." Wyll was neck deep in a clear pool, eyes closed and head tipped back.

Looking around at the various states of undress and sweatiness, Karlach gnawed at her bottom lip.

"Literally. The old engine's been getting a bit too much. My bad."

"This is your doing?" Astarion whirled to look at her. "I haven't felt like this in two hundred years!" Despite not sweating like the others, his hair looked a little lacklustre and flat compared to its usual near-perfection.

"As I said-"

"Don't. I've missed this. Don't change."

Karlach's mouth snapped shut as she nodded and made a mental note to maybe linger closer to Astarion on nights where he looked more cold and alone.

Their adventures carried on. They bore the shared echoes of neck pain and head aches as Wyll got used to his new horns. Gale's mage hand was perfect to for those who preferred not to be touched and Karlach was more than happy to put her rather warm hands to good use too. Given her own horn, she was all too familiar with what muscles could cramp and hurt. Wyll was especially grateful for such knowledge.

Along the way they collected Halsin who was more than happy to tag along on the quest. Nobody was tactless enough to mention how he and Astarion gravitated towards each other, circling in tighter and tigther circles. They all pretended to believe Halsin's reasons were purely altruistic and maybe with a small amount of desire to learn. Nor did anyone mention that Astarion's tent had a tendency to be set up and then abandoned as he spent nights in Halsin's. It was a small comfort and they all knew they needed as much of that as they could get.

Nights tended to be rather monotonous. Once dinner had been eaten, they all drifted off to their respective tents for rest. Sleep came easy enough, so did the nightmares. Flashes of pain and terror. Revulsion and depseration. Hopelessness that hollowed out everything which was only filled by fear tamped rage. Lae'zel was the first to wake, cursing Shar and all she made her followers endure. Determined to wake Shadowheart, she left her tent. Only, Shadowheart was already by the dwindling fire, haggard and scratching at her back.

"Is this not the doing of your goddess?"

"She's much more thorough in taking the memories." The disdain in Shadowheart's voice was a blanket to hide her own discomfort. While awake, the flashes from the worm were no less distressing but the light of the fire helped a little.

"So who-"

Gale stumbled out of his tent and retched as a particularly sordid kind of pain echoed through them all. They all shivered in unison at it.

"We need to wake him." Even as he spoke, the worm allowed more memories to play out in their minds. "He wouldn't want us to know this."

"I don't want to know this," Karlach's voice joined. Next to her, Wyll looked harrowed.

As one they traipsed to the edge of camp where Halsin's tent had been set up. He was dozing, curled around Astarion with a smile on his lips.

"Hush, he's finally trancing." Warm pride made Halsin's words drip with affection. "Said he'd not done it since before being turned."

"With good reason. Wake him up." Wyll winced as new pains from relieved memories curled through him.

Resisting, Halsin watched the group and pulled Astarion into a protective embrace. The broke 'please' from Gale was what did it in the end.

It didn't take much more than a gentle brush of lips to his forehead and Astarion blinked awake. His worm silenced but not before a flash of panic could be felt by all as he stared up at the gathered group.

"I know I'm in high demand, but could we keep it to one or two at a time so I can make sure you all have a good time?"

If only it had been a joke. Before it would have been taken as one. Now though, the truth of his fawning in face of fear was all too easy to see.

"We just-" Gale seemed at a loss for words.

"They wanted to wish you a good night," Halsin helped out, even though he still wasn't quite sure what was going on. "And to make sure you're okay."

Tight blankness smoothed out Astarion's expression. He knew the others saw the memories his trance he brought to life. "Was I-" breaking off, he steeled himself, "Did I make noise to wake you all?"

"You were very peaceful, little heart." Halsin smiled at him and tucked him back against his chest. "Rest some more. I'm sure the rest of this conversation can wait until the morning."

Dismissed, the others filed out of the tent. They didn't sleep easy, kept up by the nightmare fuel of what they'd seen. At least Astarion didn't trance again so no more memories bled through into their shared connection. Come morning, nobody said anything. But if they were a little more gentle with Astarion after that, that was their own business and nobody else's.

[pearlywritings]

Alive

synopsis: the fall of your homeland is a catastrophe as it is, however, it's not only the home you and your husband lost. It's just a miracle you didn't lose each other.

prompt: 21

requested by: a lovely anon

pairing: Pierro x fem!reader

tw: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, pre-Fatui Pierro (he is more open and emotional), topic of pregnancy and children, a couple of my personal headcannons about Khaenri'ah and how the curse affects the body. [...] - is used in places where Pierro and reader use their real names.

word count: 1.3k+ words in total

a/n: part of my Token of appreciation writing event! Closed now, still have 1 more requests to write. Also this fic is from the same AU my other fic is - Behind the wall of falling snow we love. You can check it if you'd like some more

Bright Sumeru sun is blinding and the evergreen forests are dizzying when you look long enough. And yet [...] forces his eyes to take in the life itself blooming in front of him, tired gaze mindlessly following the movement of a red butterfly, flying by. Red. Red, red, red, r e d╴

Khaenri’ahn stars hide behind the eyelids, fingers clenching in a fist unconsciously. So much blood, everything is dirtied by the curse. To this very second he can hardly endure it - two months later and it still haunts him as if he’s back there, at the beginning of the end. Screams, cries, loud screeching of machines, rumbling of collapsing buildings and deafening booming of explosions… It’s hard to forget, he believes he never will. There is blood on his hands yet he hasn’t killed anyone. He only tried to save, but he managed to save only one╴

The one he can’t imagine his life without.

The one the healer is examining behind his turned back. This old man was tolerable, he kept his mouth shut about two refugees from the fallen nation hiding here, above the surface and under the sun. The two previous ones had to go.

“Your wife’s condition is better,” the silver-haired man shivers, torn from his thoughts and finally lets go of the blindfold, dimming the natural light inside this small house you had luck buying. Your love for wearing jewelry and the rules that dictated adorning his mage’s robes in those helped you both survive so far.

“Be more specific,” he demands, returning to the bed, gaze immediately on your body, resting under the covers. Your eyes, equally as mysterious, momentarily dart from the healer to your husband. Before you could even lift a hand resting atop the duvet, he already leans in and slides his palm under yours, squeezing.

“The healing process is complete,” you see the way his breath shakes when your beloved exhales in relief. Fingers flex around yours in a comforting gesture. “I can’t get rid of this curse mark, but I succeeded in eliminating the harm it caused to her internal organs. But,” the wise man looks at you, no longer talking to the man at your side and his gaze turns sorrowful. Your heart stops in fear, knowing what he is about to confirm. “As I said before - I am afraid you won’t have children again. Ever. From what is known of the medicine right now - the closeness of your reproductive organs to the fetus most likely made them more exposed to the damage. On the bright side, I estimate that this factor won’t stop you from continuing living your life. I am still not sure how exactly this ‘disease’ got into your body, however from my observations over you I can state with all confidence - it’s a miracle you stayed alive, dear.”

It’s a miracle you stayed alive.

Big hand squeezes around yours. He doesn’t know yet, that the two of you were cursed with immortality, he doesn’t know yet, that sooner or later even the damage of the severely cursed part of your body would’ve naturally healed either way (not completely, but still). All he knows right now is that there was a possibility of him losing you.

When the healer leaves your humble abode - this one deserves to live - you ask your lover to help you sit, which he does and immediately takes a seat on the edge of your simple bed (it groans a little under his burly mass, but you both ignore it). He still hasn't let go of your hand.

A few moments are spent in silence. You are deep in your own unease, while he is wrecking his head over the way to start the conversation. Gently. He doesn’t want to bring those memories back - how the curse targeted the weakest spot in your body - your womb, how he had to save you, to make a life-changing decision of ridding your body off what was slowly killing you - *your own unborn child*... How he used his best knowledge in healing magic to keep you stable and get you out of the falling land. Everything else is a blur. But everything else doesn’t matter.

All that matters is that you are alive.

“My heart,” he starts slowly, but these two words are enough to gather your attention, “I am relieved to know you are alright. Forgive me my selfish desires, but I can’t fathom a thought of losing you, of spending the rest of my life without you. I ask a lot from you, but, please,” he covers the hand he is already holding with his other one, “I know it’s hard, but I beg you not to forget the happy days we spent together, the love we share,” your gaze falls to the wedding bracelets clasped around your wrists and your heart clenches when you hear desperation in his voice, “and above all, do not let go of your desire to live… For any reason, understood?”

“If you tell me this one more time, I will let go.”

Your abrupt response surprises you. You didn’t mean to lash out, but suddenly it just happened. Is it the brewing pain in your heart? The dull ache and emptiness in your stomach? The settling understanding of the loss and that life will never be the same? You don’t know. You feel too much.

He is taken aback and you notice. Eyes widen and anxiety settles in your heart - have you pushed him away?

"You know you are not guilty, [...]?" Your husband reaches to cup your cheek. You hopelessly cling to it with your free one, leaning into the warm palm, closing your eyes. "At that time nothing else could've been done."

"But if I was stronger, if my body was stronger-"

"But we were not, my heart. It's a cruel reality, but every time I see you I am so glad you were spared. Even if it happened like that."

He knows his words are cruel and he says them to your face now, raw and hurting, but that is the only truth he has. And he is not going to lie to the woman he vowed to treasure.

"Sorry for being rude, I didn’t mean it,” you swallow the lump in your throat, and the man beside you reassuringly caresses your cheek. He understands. “And sorry we have to have this conversation… I am not the only one hurt after all.”

"I am not mad, [...]. And you are the one who’s been hurt the most, so we will return to this topic as many times as you need. I will remind you that none of it is your fault,” his promise is soft and you make yourself believe it. He climbs next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist - gently, almost feather-lightly, - and brings you closer to his chest.

"I just really wish it wasn't our one and only chance to have a family," you snuggle into him, diving into the warmth of his body. "You don't hate me for it, right?"

"Of course I do not. There will never be a thing I'll hate you for."

"Thank you…"

"No, thank you for being alive."

He can feel your lips pulling in a small smile against his chest. He is aware that so little time is not enough to numb the mind and heart to the memories and that this pain is hard to heal - he is sure it never completely will, and even though he is pushing his own despair to the back of his head, he fully shares your hurt. He keeps reminding himself, that you got to stay alive and you are right here, he can see, touch, hold, love you…

And even in the frozen lands of your soon-to-be-destination he’ll continue doing so.

[asha-mage]

Since it's my birthday my friends got me the amazing gift of 'watching the Wheel of Time show while occasionally stopping to discuss/let me loose my mind' for which I am incredibly grateful. A few random observations from this time through, as I attempted to view it through the lens of the entirely WoT uninitiated (as my friends are)-

The group shots, where the camera passes from one of the Emond's Field 5 to another, do this clever trick where Rand is never actually standing on his own. He's always standing beside or behind someone in one of these shots, so the camera doesn't actually have to cut or pan away from someone else to get to him. This serves the purpose of highlighting him in contrast to his friends, but also to subtlety downplay his presence to the audience, and build up to the Dragon reveal in episode 7 very effectively.

The cinematography in general is so exceedingly rich and delicious- the stark white of the Whitecloak camp contrasted with the bloody reality of their actions. The bright primary colors used to make the Aes Sedai visually pop and feel magical and strange, even as they are dressed (for the most part) practically for their traveling (a complaint I had about the Witcher, aside from everything being brown and grey all the time, is that the mages show up to battles dressed in ballroom dresses instead of you know, clothing that would make sense). The subtle use of lighting and camera angle to create a sense of vast isolation of Shadar Logoth, fear and danger in the Ways, and cramp sweltering heat in the Blight.

Moiraine's opening narration in episode 1 is essentially a summary of the information we get from one of the epigraphs at the ending of the Eye of the World prologue, to whit:

"And the Shadow fell upon the land, and the world was riven, stone from stone. The oceans fled and the mountains where swallowed up. and the nations where scattered to the eight corners of the world. The moon was blood and the sun was as ashes. The seas boiled, and the living envied the dead. All was shattered, and all but memory lost, and one memory above all others, of him who brought the shadow, and the Breaking of the World. And him they named Dragon." - Aleth nin Tearin alta Camora, The Breaking of the World, author unknown, the Fourth Age "The world is broken. Many many years ago men who where born with great power attempted to cage darkness itself. The arrogance. When they failed, the seas boiled, mountains where swallowed up, cities burned, and the women of the Aes Sedai where left to pick up the pieces. These women remembered one thing above all else, the man who brought the Breaking of the World. And him, they. named Dragon." - Moiraine

This makes me suspect their was an earlier version of the script that actually used the epigraph (maybe even both of them). I have mixed on feeling on this, as the epigraphs are one of my favorite artistic choices of Jordan's and really help emphasize the history and depth of his world, but I think filtering it through Moiriane and making it slightly less opaque was a smart choice to convey the information to the audience. I also think this works on a character level as well- here is Moiraine's understanding of this information, shaped by her biases.

Every re-watch also makes me more and more comfortable in my 'the show is a future/past turning of the wheel from the books, the broad events and truths being the same, but seen in one of those endless variations we hear about' interpretation of the series. The heart of the story and characters is the same, and the broad strokes and framework are the same, but it's in the details where things emerge as different. This interpretation has the benefit of fitting really really well with the meta-narrative stuff Jordan always liked to pull, and in freeing I think the show expectations of being a one-to-one recreation.

That said I defiantly felt the cracks in the final two episodes as a result of the Covid shutter and loosing Barney Harris more strongly this time- some of that being that this is my first re watching of season 1 since I've seen season 2. You can practically see the things they wanted/planned to do that had to re-worked because of circumstances beyond their control. Mat's absence in the group argument scene (and the 'I am so tired of you two fighting over her' line that was clearly meant to be Mat's), as well as the lack of bigger/more cohesive battle scene in Tarwin's Gap. You can also tell they hadn't quite figured out how they where going to re-work season 2 yet given that the ending for season 1 had to be changed last minute (for example, their is no reason for Moiraine to just outright admit that she released Lan's bond unless they hadn't yet decided that was where their arc was going yet).

I think the show does an exceedingly good job of structuring it's exposition to the un-intiatited, trying to stagger it so that audience is largely learning new things in pace with the characters. I know people where frustrated that things like the War of Power have yet to come up in earnest even in the Latra and Lews scene, but I think the slow and steady reveal of things matches both the core idea of 'their is always more you don't know', and trying not to overwhelm the audience. My friends had no trouble following what was going and picking up the bigger implications/subtext that underpins a lot of information. 'But why did the Dragon try to cage the Dark One? It doesn't seem like it was that simple.' came up a few times especially.

The detail that what jump-starts Perrin's wolf brother connection is having his wound healed/cleaned by the wolves in that scene from episode 2 is so incredibly clever, and a good twist on the traditional 'werewolf bite' mythology.

I love the deliberate choice to incorporate so many random ruins and remnants of things in the background of shots. Not just the 'dilapidated stone buildings' that the characters camp in, but things like the trio of carved faces that Egwene and Perrin run past while fleeing the Whitecloaks, or the boundary stones Mat and Rand pass on the road, or even just the small carvings and pillars scattered about the cave where they are holding Logain. It all helps to make you feel that ancientness, that brokenness of this world more effectively.

The reoccurring use of the Dragon's Fang to symbolize violence and destruction: the Trollocs using it as a scare tactics, it appearing in the blood in the pool after Nynaeve kills the Trolloc, being burned into Siuan's ruined childhood home....and the way that contrasts with it's use in the finale episode, when we see it whole and unbroken in the seal/yin yang symbol for the first time was really really clever. One of my friends actually gasped out loud and went 'oh' at the first shot of the whole seal when it clicked.

The show does an exceedingly good job of maintaining that core idea of the series that it's about our relationship to violence- violence never being casual or simple or easy, but always raw, hard and bloody and a little bit ugly. EVen subtle things like the way the show depicts Moraine hurling stones at the Trollocs with uncomfortable frankness, trying to literalize what in most fantasy media would be an abstract. Take it from I cast stone 2, to I inflict horrible blunt force trauma on another creature. And of course everything re: Perrin and his ax.

I have more thoughts, but I think I'll save some of them for after we watch season 1, because they relate strongly to stuff from there.

[zweetpea]

Eternity or stasis Part 1 of 2

Spicy scene so watch out. Also some Archon/Arlecchino slander purely because I don't like the fact that the house of the hearth is basically just training child soldiers. No hate if you like her but she is definitely not a good or even morally grey person.I am so sorry about human dvalin guys. I tried not to stroke my own ego when describing him but all the concept art for human Dvalin makes him out to be a very very VERY pretty man. And I like the Hoyoverse dragons so there is a bit of that. Also sorry this took so long to come out.

"Dvalin please!" You whine

"Mine. You're mine." He growls.

"Ah!" you squeak as he squeezes your hips.

"Tight... so tight... Too Tight! Dvalin I can't breath!" 'Yeah that's me. You're probably wondering how I got here.'

20 minutes ago.

"Dvalin it's been 2 weeks since Xiao brought me back. Andruis has come to visit twice, and both times you've refused to see him. You hardly let the abyss mages and slimes bring me food. "I'm begging you, please let me go. I won't run away again just please." You pleaded desperately trying to wriggle out from between his front claws. He was splayed out like a dog lying out in the sun arms crossed in front of him to trap you in.

"Not a chance. The last two times I let you out of my sight you got kidnapped. First by those knights, then you were taken away and the abyss order has told me you were in the land of Geo. That filthy mud-ridden dragon. What does he have that I don't? What can he give you that I can't?"

"Well, no offence but physical intimacy and companionship."

"Oh really?" He growled in a sarcastic tone (and also literally growled, he is a dragon after all). A bright light blue light shined out from Dvalin's chest as he shrunk.

"Dvalin? What...?"

Standing before you was a beautiful man with sharp features. He had a long pointed nose, and sharp eyes. His face wasn't too particularly round (he had a few freckles on his face) and his chin looked like it could cut diamonds. He had long baby blue hair that fell past his shoulder blades - his bangs curled around his head to the back of his head - and glowing aqua colored eyes that pierced your soul. His horns curved up, back and towards each other; the tips tinted in dark blue. His pointed ears peeked out meekly from the sides of his head. He was tall (maybe 7 feet), and his entire body - from hid shoulders down to his waist - was broad. His chest and abs were sculped and defined. His limbs held muscles toned to perfection, yet strangely enough faded from the pale of his torso and face to a lighter blue and finally to a deep blue at his finger tips and his long nails. Finally just behind him swayed a furry blue and white tail. 

"WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!"

"Why wouldn't I be? I don't wear clothes in my true form. I feel strange like this." He looked at his hand, perplexed by the addition of a fifth finger.

"You- you- two- um-" You backed up as he stalked over to you. "Wait!" Your face heated. 

"Come here darling. You said you wanted to be physical." He pulled you toward him and wrapped his tail around you.

"HELP LITTLE SLIMES!! I fell into a trap! He's got me! And he won't let me go!" You scream as a dendro smile and hydro smile bounce toward you.

"Mine."

"Yes I know but, EH!" You try to struggle. 

"Mine!"

"Eh!"

"Mine!!"

"EH!"

"MINE!"

"EH!!"

"MINE!!"

"Dvalin! Please. This is embarrassing. And I can feel your 'friends' poking my ass."

"They just want to say hi, and they wouldn't be so eager if you didn't squirm so much on my lap." He purrs in your ear.

"We need to get you some clothes." You throw yourself from his grasp with all your might. "Maybe some apple bottom jeans."

"Jeans?" He looks confused. 

"And boots with the fur."

"With fur?"

"Really just anything to keep you 'packages' to yourself."

"Oh? So you don't want 'Physical Intimacy'?" He teases. 

"Um I..." 'Screw it. Baizhu and I are just friends with benefits.' You pull Dvalin closer and kiss him. His lips mold into yours and you poke your tongue into his mouth. He lay you down as his tongue overtook your mouth.

"I... cannot feel my legs."

"Stay right there, I'm going to get some food." He kisses your head.

"Wait!" You grab one of his horns and gently rub your thumb over it.

He lets out a breathy moan and grabs you wrist. "Keep that up and this little snack I'm getting you will be an intermission instead of aftercare."

"Did you want this?"

"It was nice, especially the feeling of your nails scratching along my back. I'll be honest, I'm willing to do anything to keep you here."

"Okay, thanks for getting me some food."

"Of course darling." He kisses your lips, and slithers out of the tower. 

10 minutes later you're feeling a bit better, that was until a certain high pitched Bard showed up.

"Dvalin! Please answer me. I know that you're up here! I'm sorry about what happened about a month ago." Venti pleads voice cracking like he's holding back tears. 

"Hi Venti..." You say apathetic.

"What are you doing here? How did you get back here?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." You snark. 

"Don't get smart with me! You turned Dvalin against me."

"I thought you'd want him to be free, and happy."

"I do. But I also want him to be safe. You are nothing but trouble, and I don't want him around you. End of story" 

"Why don't you give me one more- ow! Fudge nuggets! Anyway Venti," You limp your way over to him. "That's not really for you to decide, now is it?" You taunt.

"What gives you the right to talk to me like that?"

"What gives you the right to demand the respect of your people. You're a drunkard, Zhongli is a deadbeat, and Ei is a dictator. Not only that but the Tsaritsa endorses the exploitation of children, allowing Arlecchino - one of her Harbingers - to groom them into the perfect soldiers. They're exploiting orphans - who only have them to trust in - for their army. What good do you Archons do for your citizens?"

"Shut up!" He pushes you to the ground. Your delusion starts to glow seafoam green.

"You don't protect them. So get off your high horse you fake wannabe dei-"

"SHUT UP!!" He screams as the structure around you shakes and the air in the environment grows warmer. 

"Heh, I knew you were full of hot air."

"SHUT! UP!" He screams in your face as his hands come to wring your neck.

"GET OFF THEM!!"

"Dvalin?/!" Venti and you shout in unison. Him in horror and you in joy. Dvalin drops the food and charges at venti. 

"What have they done to you?" Venti whispers. 

"I chose to become this Venti."

"They've clipped your wings."

"You mean these?" Wings spring from his back.

"You know what I mean! Your powers are drained in this form! Why would you do this?"

"I need them that's why."

"No! I'm putting my foot down. I hate to do this but this obsession you have with them isn't healthy!" Dvalin charges at him and he dodges. Venti summons his bow (the skyward harp) and shot at you. You try to block but nothing happens. The arrow doesn't pierce you but it does knock you out and blow you far off.

When you wake up you're somewhere you haven't been before. Inazuma.  

"Okay. This isn't good. Why couldn't I block the arrow? Was it because it was Venti's?" You look down to your delusion and see it was seafoam green instead of a gold color. "Does this mean I've resonated with Anemo? I shook hands with Zhongli and resonated with Geo, Venti pushed me so..." You hold your hand out and several small wind currents form around you. You bring your other hand up and they all form into a big gust of wind shaped in a pair of wings. "Interesting. Okay... where exactly am I? This looks a bit like Ritou. Maybe I could get across to the beach."

"Outlander! Freeze!"

"Shit!" You start to jump across to the beach on your wind currents. You run through the hills of Inazuma.

"Okay I think I'm safe now. Where on earth did I go?" You run to the north end of Narukami Island.

"Hello?! Hello?" You call out as you look for anyone who could help you. 

"Hm? Hey cutie!" Itto shouts at you. 

"Aw, aren't you sweet."

"Heh. Nah, you're just adorable. Hey! You wanna beetle battle with me."

"I don't know how. Maybe a big, strong man could teach me." You flirt.

"Course I could." He wraps his arm around your shoulder. Maybe you should feel a bit bad about flirting and sleeping around but you were promised debauchery. You wrap your arm around him as he leads you to where his gang was, though you didn't get too far with Kujou Sara and her forces on you tail.

"There you are! Surrender your Vision and the blondie." She demands.

"Oh yeah, the sus girl made me twinsies with the twins."

"The Raiden Shogun has ordered any interlopers to be deported from Inazuma immediately, and if they have a vision we are to seize it form them. This... person?" She looks to you for confirmation, to which you nod. "Is under arrest for fleeing Ritou."

"So typical of a cop to be a rude bitch. Actually that's not really fair. Chevreuse, Wriothesley and Cyno are technically cops and they'll probably be considerate. Come to think of it The knights of Favonius are cops and Jean was extremely considerate. It's just the archon simps- well, no Xiao was pretty nice."

"Less talking more fighting!" Itto shouts in a frenzy. He and Shinobu have to fend of the Tenryou Commission. 

"Sorry!" You lift your hand and the gusts of wind lift the enemies off the ground.

"Now we're talking! Looks like the playing field just got a bit more even." Itto taunt.

"On my command!" Sara yell as she readies her bow. You quickly start to twist and turn your delusion to try and get in back to Geo.

"Don't do this to me. I need Geo right now." You whisper and it started to glow gold again. You quickly jump in front of Itto to block Sara's shot. You then start to pelt her with a slew of jagged spall toward the cops.

"Retreat!" Sara's companions cry.

"Cowards! get back here!" She furiously runs after them.

"Oh my gosh! That was awesome dude! Oh hey, what should I call you?" Itto cheers.

"Babygirl." you respond without missing a beat. "It's this affectionate nickname where I come from. If not that you can call me Gen with a G. Last name Z.

"It's nice to meet you Z." Shinobu greets from beside Itto. 

"Please, call me Gen. We're friend now... or something more." You mumble that last part.

"Yeah yeah yeah, formalities and such. How'd you do that? You went from Anemo to Geo in a split second!" Itto praises. "It was awesome. Does that me you have like, Anemo and Geo inside you."

"Well I don't know about Geo but Anemo and Dendro have definately both been inside me."

"Huh?"

"Uh, not the point. We should get going before the cops show up again."

"Oh right. Well Gen in thanks for you saving us I'll treat you to the Biggest bowl of Ramen I can afford."

"I don't think I'll be able to finish all by myself, but we could split it." 'Please if there is any good left in this universe or the one I come from let Itto and I do the lady and the tramp thing! Please please please-'

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Itto apologizes.

'I love you universe!'

"Looks like Heizou was right. Caught you right where he said you would be."

"I'll handle this Itto. You just get everyone out of here." You order.

"No way! I'm not leaving you behind Gen!" He argues.

"Loyal to a tee, I see why Ayato likes you." You smile. Tenryou soldiers flinging themselves at you.

"Itto we have to go." Shinobu pleads.

"But-"

"Trust me! Go."

"I'm coming back for you!"

"Thank you." You smile. The Arataki Gang ran as the cops jump and overpower you. 

Sara bounds your wrists and ankles, and throws you over her shoulder. "Dang bound again. If I had a nickel for everytime I've been bound and it wasn't sexy, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot  but it's weird that it happened twice. Weirder still that the only two times I've been bound have both been very unsexy. 'This would be arousing if you hadn't been an asshole earlier.' You thought. 'Okay... I guess this is a little hot.'

"Hey do you want to hear something cool? According to the Babylonians, Asushunamir was this super rad person who wasn't man or woman and they were given the gift of prophecy and healing. Also the Norse had this other dude who's portrayed as really really hot and they were gender fluid  but mostly went by he. The gender non conforming have a pretty sweet gig being hot and getting people out of trouble."

"Please stop talking. Besides it doesn't matter who or what you are. Man, woman, or something in between, all obstacles in the Shoguns path to eternity must face her wrath. No amount of strange tales will spare you."

"Bring it on that tyrant is going down!"

"Brave or foolish I do not know. May I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"I've been hearing rumors about you. They say you are not so much man or woman so... how do you work in bed if you don't mind me asking." 

"Well~ you could find out for yourself~"

"I'll have to pass on your oh so generous offer." Sara retorts sarcastically. 

"I'm a power-bottom if you must know! Nah that's a lie I'm submissive and breedable, even if I never get pregnant."

"Well... here we are. The Shogun is just inside. She will decide your fate." Sara unbinds you. 

"Bye Sara. Raiden Shogun! You better get your Bitch ass out here!" You storm through the halls.

"Who dares to insult me?" The dumb little puppet shows it's face.

"I mean the real Shogun! Come on out Ei!" As you taunt her a purple rift rips through the air and Ei pulls you into the plain of euthymia. 

"Why is a long haired hooligan in my presence. What's your name?"

"Gen. Now let's talk about something more previlent. You suck! I don't care if you have big boobies! You're a bad mom and a bad leader!"

"Excuse me?"

"You abandoned your son and say that you want to give him freedom. How is that freedom? You cast him out without anything to defend himself with! And on top of all of that he was basically a naive baby with no survival skills. How dense can you be? You are the cause of at least 25% of Teyvats major problems. Do you have any idea what He's doing out there right now?"

"Wow... you really want to die don't you?"

"Can you stop being so egotistical? There's more to this world than you ya know! I get you're sad because Makoto died, and you feel like you have no purpose. You don't feel worthy to be the Electro Archon, right? Well Miko doesn't think so. She and sara are keeping this entire nation afloat while you bitch and moan about having to do work."

"How do you know all of this?"

"Because I'm not from Teyvat."

"Obviously. You are the adored one. The one Celestia fears. That doesn't explain-"

"No!" You cut her off. "I'm literally not from this world. I've seen this twice before. I got in after beta and I have to look up past events off Youtube, because Hoyoverse is a bitch to the Genshin community. I get they want people to pay for gacha but just have them be a normal world quest or a side story or even a playable movie! Kingdom hearts did that with their mobile game! It was a bit confusing but that's kingdom hearts for you."

"...what?"

"Nothing. Point is you need to get off your ass and work. Your people are dying. They're slaughtering each other in droves. Eternity doesn't mean everything has to stay the same. Makoto wouldn't have wanted that Ei. Eternity can exist through Inazuma's preservation. Their culture and heritage and customs all play a part in Inazuma's identity. If those things can keep Inazuma thriving then Inazuma will be eternal."

"...you've seen this play out before. Is there ever a way for me to reach perfect Eternity."

"not a perfect stasis no. But from where I'm from you and Makoto's Legacy is secure. Inazuma is eternal to my people." 

"How would I even go about trying to fix things?"

"...wait that worked?"

"What?"

"I never thought I'd get this far. (A/n: SpongeBob reference!) I was just trying to sow the seed so that the twins wouldn't have to go through so much bullshit to defeat you and make you see the error of your ways. I was trying to buy time more than anything."

"Okay... so what do we do now?"

"I have no clue..."

"Um when you said twins... you wouldn't happen to mean two blonds in strange clothes similar to yours, did you?" 

"Is the puppet fighting them? Did your puppet take Thoma and they're trying to protect him?" You deadpan.

"Yes?"

"yep, that's them. Let 'em in they might be able to help." 

She does as you instruct and the twins come barreling in. "What the Fu-"

[frostgears]

We Who Serve

"Lookin' good, Coda! Got something for ya," the student mage said, rolling the shimmering violet soul gem between her fingers.

"Heya, Bree," the artificer grunted. "You look, as always, like a teenage delinquent who styles her own hair using alchemical process runoff."

"Well, I'm hardly going to wear an Academy uniform down to this end of the artificers' quarter. And I don't give you shit for wearing the same reagent-spattered leather apron every time I see you."

"It's shop gear, sweetheart. Some of us have to work for a living. And I see your gem, but it better not have a dream-junkie soul in it this time," Coda grouched. "Remember your last bright idea? Remember the one that was convinced she was still dreaming? Remember the repair work when she tried to fly? Turns out a service compulsion built right into your corporeal form doesn't do jack if your mind is so scrambled that you think you're asleep."

"Dream-junkies usually die alone and unremembered, Coda. And nobody, I mean nobody, cares about them once they start using heavily. I'm practically saving lives, right?"

"Sure. Saving lives. So where's this one from?"

"You really wanna know? Thought you promised me not to ask where the souls come from, when we started doing this thing together."

"Bree. I don't want another attempted flight on my hands. Especially not off a balcony and into the middle of the owner's gala for his daughter's debut. Lost a big client there and had to eat the repair bills. No good, get me? Another like that and we're through."

"And you'd get animating souls for your dolls from where, then? But no worries. No worries at all. This one's from far away, and guaranteed worth the juice it took to bring them here." Bree's smug smile suggested repair bills would be the least of anyone's worries this time around.

"How far away?"

"The other side of a summoning circle."

"Bullshit." The artificer folded her powerful gloved arms across her chest. "You told me you looked into that, and it'd take a dozen mages as powerful as your dean to even try."

"Oh, I didn't do the summoning. Someone else did. You see, I just happen to be in the top twelve of my class…"

Coda raised an eyebrow. "You?"

Bree pouted. It was a good pout, a practiced pout; it had been the undoing of several of her classmates. "Do I not look it?"

"Academy uniform or dancehall grunge, I can't imagine you studying; that's the real fork in the mind's eye."

"I do study! I just… study best when I've got something I want to study, that's all! Anyway. So. Here I am, right? Top twelve in my class. Invited to see, for my education, a ritual that takes place at most once a decade: the Calling of a Chosen Hero."

"That time again already?"

"Evil never rests, or so they say. Anyway, it was very impressive. The best archmages in the Kingdom chanting up a hullabaloo around this huge summoning circle carved into a slab of obsidian. Candles. Incense. Wardlights glowing like a solstice tree. And they literally reach outside the boundaries of this world, Coda, and pull a soul from another one. Very heavy shit, very potently executed. Except just as they've got the soul on this side of the boundaries so they can start building a body for them, Archmage Eldreid has a stroke."

"Well, that can't be good."

"Wasn't great. Ritual falls right the fuck apart. The slab shatters and the circle with it. For a moment the combined light of the wardflames is like a stained-glass sun, but I can see the summoned soul glittering naked in the chaos, and, well," she paused and ran her fingers through her multicolored hair, "I keep my soulcatcher on me at all times because it's illegal as hell, right? Can't leave it lying around the dorms. So, me, soulcatcher, soul… my reflexes kinda took over. Next thing I knew, the docents are rushing all us students out of the room so they can get a healer and a fire crew in there."

"Bree, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"So here's the final thing," she said, ignoring Coda. "I inquired, as soon as possible, as any nervous teacher's pet would, after the health of Archmage Eldreid and the fate of the Hero. Eldreid's gonna be fine in a few weeks. And the conclusion of the other archmages, or at least the one that could be bothered to talk to us, is that 'the Hero's soul simply returned to its own world', and that they'll have to try the ritual again in a month. Which means I have the soul of a Chosen Hero in my hand, and it's untraceable, Coda. Missing and not from this world. You've heard of what they do. Just imagine how good your next doll is going to be."

The artificer took a moment to process this. Then she nodded. "You're mental. But lucky. Happens I've been working on something special. Have a look with me, Bree."

Coda proudly uncovered a draped figure at the far end of the workshop. The doll glistened, caressed by even the fading afternoon light. Its skin was fine white matte porcelain, its many joints glistening darkly iridescent metal barely visible behind ceramic limbs, and its shape a figure of idealized human perfection that any sculptor would have been proud of. Soft cotton ropes in contrasting black wrapped every limb in complex twisted bindings.

Bree whistled. "Wow."

"A cut above the ones you've seen so far, right?"

"It's gorgeous. If it was ensouled right now, I'd be asking if she was single." The student mage bit her lip. "Wait, why's it all tied up so prettily? Coda, you absolute alleycat, is she not single?"

"Gods, the imagination on you, girl. The ropes are just to hold everything in place on the stand during assembly and storage."

"Is it done?"

"Frame was finished weeks ago, shell last week, but the cosmetic detail work took forever. I attached the last of the hair this morning, installed the eyes — so, yes, I suppose it's done."

"Then let's make it go!"

"Eager to get paid, Bree?"

"No. Well. Yes. Academy studies aren't cheap even on a scholarship. But you showed me this wonder, and now I am entirely believing my own bullshit. You're a godsdamned artist. This soul has to go in this doll, Coda. It's too perfect."

"You get the money on successful ensoulment. As always."

"Tch!"

Bree carefully marked a diagram for ensoulment on the floor, enclosing herself and the stand, then, chanting lines in a guttural voice almost entirely unlike her usual, reached around behind the doll's neck to press the soul gem into a hidden receptacle there. The diagram flared into life, a curtain of green sparks drifting upwards from the shop floor and then vanishing in directions named only by mages.

"—y'glacht nissat ephed, be thou whole and one with yourself, itisc, drah, nyen."

A shiver passed through the doll.

Clearing her throat, the mage said, "It's done," and carefully scuffed the diagram with the toe of her shoe.

It was then that the door exploded, and a blazing silver radiance filled the workshop.

"What the fu—"

"JUSTICE."

Bree and Coda could barely make out the general shape of a skeleton, winged, within a halo of silver light.

It awoke to a very loud voice, a bright light, and a body that couldn't move.

"—CRIME THAT CANNOT BE UNDONE, YET FITTING PUNISHMENT HAS BEEN FOUND FOR BOTH."

Sleep paralysis again? Can I make something move anyway? It tried to flex, found immediate resistance everywhere.

"THE ARTISAN HAS SOILED HER HANDS WITH STOLEN SOULS, BUT THOSE THAT HAVE BEEN STOLEN WALK IN HER BODIES, AND THOSE MUST BE CARED FOR. THE ARTISAN IS BOUND FOR THE TIME BEING TO CREATE NO MORE BODIES BUT ONE, AND ONLY TO SERVICE HER CREATIONS TO THE BEST OF HER ABILITIES AND AT HER OWN EXPENSE. LET HER ATONEMENT BEGIN THUS."

Silver sparks flared from the left. Someone screamed.

"THE MAGE HAS STOLEN SOULS, AN EVEN GREATER TRANSGRESSION. LET HER EXPERIENCE WHAT IT IS LIKE TO BE SEVERED FROM MORTAL FLESH AND BOUND TO HER ACCOMPLICE'S WORK. HER FLESH SHALL BE HELD RANSOM, AND HER TASK FOR THE TIME BEING SHALL BE TO SAFEGUARD AND PROTECT HER MOST RECENT VICTIM, UNTIL AND UNLESS SAID VICTIM MAY RELEASE HER FROM SERVICE, SATISFIED. LET HER ATONEMENT BEGIN THUS."

More sparks. A ripping sound, a brief shock in the air as if a taut string had snapped.

Then a hand under its chin, a face that was no face, only shining bones, and a voice that reverberated inside it.

"THIS IS NOT A NIGHTMARE, UNWILLING TRAVELER. WE REGRET THAT YOU CANNOT GO HOME. THE SKEIN OF DESTINY IS TANGLED, BUT JUSTICE MAY YET BE DONE HERE. YOU WILL BE WATCHED. GOOD LUCK TO YOU."

Then the silver light was gone.

It still couldn't move.

Later, it heard the sound of bitter laughter. A woman with close-cropped hair wearing shop leathers held a shimmering violet gem in one hand, a scroll and a carved stick in the other. She waved the objects in front of it. "Look what's become of my business partner," she told it. "She'll need a body soon. Like yours, I think. Bree liked yours. You'll help me. You don't have a choice, by the way."

She busied herself with its restraints. When a critical knot was loosened, it suddenly collapsed to the ground. It should have hurt; it didn't. It stood up, taking a proffered hand from the woman in shop leathers.

"Hmm. We should get some clothes on you. Should be a uniform your size in that box over there. Mirror on the left."

It opened the box, held up frilly black and white pieces of cloth, some vaguely recognized.

A dress? But… I'm…

It looked down on unfamiliar curves rendered in ceramic and metal, and collapsed again.

A hand hauled it back to woozy verticality.

"You'll get used to that body soon. Just stand, I guess. I'll put it on you." Hands brushed its side. Fabric dropped over its head and into a snug fit. Ties were tied.

"Better. Mirror."

It walked, slowly but more steady with each step, to the mirror.

A doll looked back at it, wearing the tight-fitting dress and apron of a maid.

It spoke, and its own voice sounded strangely musical to it: "Who am I?"

"Do they not have names where you come from?"

"I don't remember mine."

"Hmm. I'll call you after your design, then. Your name, doll, will be Lyric."

"Lyric."

"Coda," the woman said, indicating herself with a thumb.

It curtsied, feeling that this was somehow the thing to do, and then asked, "Doll?"

"Yep. But like I said, you'll get used to it. Welcome to Coda's." She sighed. "You can start by sweeping up what's left of the door."

It would have time to wonder later why sweeping felt like the right thing to do. Why obeying felt like the right thing to do. How "JUSTICE MAY YET BE DONE HERE" had anything to do with chores. But for now, it had the broom. Now was fine. It could stay in now. So it did. □ --- next: We Who Will Not Bow

[shouldaspunastory]

Thank you @broodsys! @dadrunkwriting

This might be wildly out OOC once we get more details or the game drops, but Emmrich Volkarian has bewitched me body and soul, and I love and have already drawn and begun collecting headcanons and lore for my Rook that is going to woo/be wooed and marry the gentleman necromancer. Hope you enjoy.

Emmrich Volkarin x Tobias Rook (SFW, Pre-relationship, pining. 1192 words) ------------------

The thing of it is, Emmrich is far more accustomed to dealing with the dead, isn’t he? Skeletons, in particular. Nevarra may be a warm enough clime, but the necromancer knows the cool, stale air of the Necropolis and his study filled with bones, old tomes, parchment, ink, and the scent of his favorite teas far better than that of the sun and bustling markets miles above. What he knows of the living- aside from that of a few colleagues- is primarily of their connections to and beliefs surrounding death and what rites should follow. Anything outside of that, well, it is largely theoretical. That’s never troubled him before. That it should do so now, so late in life, is… unexpected, to say the least.

And Tobias Rook is… warm, bright, and more alive than anyone Emmrich has even known. A series of utterly baffling and delightful contradictions Emmrich could spend the rest of his life puzzling over and never entirely figure out. Exactly the kind of challenge, the sort of puzzle, he adores. He adores them, a realization that had shaken him to his very core. They make Emmrich feel more alive than he has in years, and, somehow, both younger and older at the same time, makes their heart stop and race. It’s probably a lucky thing he’s already gone gray, or some of their more reckless antics would almost certainly inspire some new ones. They’ve come away from today’s battle on a little more bruised and worse for wear, but the mage is well aware how easily it might have been otherwise.

“Do you ever think about it,” Emmrich asks when he and Rook are finishing an evening cup of tea, the rest of their companions having already turned in for the night. Given his area of expertise, and the odds of what they’re up against it seems prudent to ask. Truthfully, it seems almost shamefully neglectful he’s not done so before now.

“What’s that?”

“Death. What comes after. What rites you would like others to perform for you,” the necromancer prompts, but Rook shakes their head.

“Not as often as you, I suspect,” Rook replies with a soft, amused chuckle, then, sobering a little, mulls the question over in order to give him a more serious response.

Rook does that a lot. They are playful- albeit sometimes a bit irreverent soul. But they never shame or discourage Emmrich when he spirals into an impromptu lecture about his latest studies or curiosities, even when they don’t entirely understand them, they ask him questions and do their best to provide him both with humor, and thoughtful responses in equal measure.

Emmrich is used to being the butt of a fair number of jokes over the years, not that he’s ever paid those much mind, but Rook is inexplicably far more interested in making him laugh than laughter at his expense. Where some of his colleagues and acquaintances over the years deemed him peculiar, even somehow vaguely off-putting for being so committed and interested in his grim work, Rook consistently seeks out his company, praises and seems to admire his passion, even if they don’t share it for the same things.

“I don’t want or need any pomp or circumstance, and I’d hate to think the last thing I ever did was inconvenience my friends. I don’t know for certain what comes after, but I don’t believe I’ll be needing my body for it. Whatever is easiest, does the least damage- to your purses- that’s what I want.”

Emmrich frowns thoughtfully. It’s not that he expects Rook to share his exact views on death, their answer is a pragmatic one, but hearing them speak with so little reverence for their body and its care after death- a body he’s come to… appreciate since first they met- is difficult for him to reconcile.

“I never-“ but Rook cuts themselves short, biting their tongue, and taking a sip of their tea to give them a moment’s pause. “I’ve never cared if anyone knew my name,” they continue finally, refining the thought as they set their cup of tea back on its saucer. “That was never why I joined up with the Shadow Dragons, and it’s not why I’m doing this now.” Emmrich nods as they continue.

“I don’t care if the world knows my name. I’ve never needed that. I just want to matter to someone… one person to remember me- even if that memory fades with the two of us. If it was the right one, that would be enough,” Rook concludes. This is a sentiment Emmrich can understand, and one he shares. He sighs softly, a little wistful. Were he a younger man…

“For what it’s worth, Little Bird, I know I’m not the right one, but I could live a thousand lives and never forget you. I don’t know how anyone could.” Rook draws in a shallow breath, pupils blown wide as they try to meet Emmrich’s eyes which are suddenly rigidly fixed upon the floor in front of them.

“Why not,” Rook asks softly. These words catch the necromancer by surprise if the way his head shoots up at their question is any indication.

‘What?”

“Why not you,” Rook repeats, their voice is soft, almost like speaking too loudly will shatter whatever this strange, beautiful, and fragile moment between them is. Perhaps it will. Emmrich’s throat feels dry, despite the tea, tighter than it had a moment before. Were it not for the way it hammers against his ribs, quite as if it wishes to escape the confines of its bone prison to reach them, Emmrich would swear his heart has stopped.

“I wouldn’t mind if it was you,” Rook admits, suddenly uncharacteristically shy. “I, um, I’d really like that, actually,” they confess softly.

Their cheeks are flush, Emmrich thinks, unable to do anything for a moment but to gape at them. Full of blood, of life, warmth, their eyes full of light, of nerves, yes, but also, hope, a tenderness he’s seen before now, but clearly not for all that it was. They bite their lip and Emmrich realizes he’s been silent, lost in his swirling thoughts, for too long. His gloved hand gently clasps one of their hands, his thumb finding Rook’s pulse and caressing the inside of their wrist. Their heartbeat more akin to a hummingbird than their namesake, but precious all the same. I’ve done that, Emmrich marvels, cool fingers of his bare hand reaching out to rescue their bottom lip, bangles on his arm tingling softly, joining the symphony of his quickly beating heart and shallow breaths.

“Are you sure,” Emmrich asks, words scarcely louder than a whisper, but needing to offer them one last out.

“Please,” Rook nods, and Emmrich doesn’t keep them waiting, fingers moving to card through their hair before coming to cradle the back of their head as his lips meet theirs in a kiss of infinite care and patience, as though the pair have all the time in the world, and he, can think of nothing better to do with that time than this. And just now, he can’t.

[ashipiko]

The hilt of your sword weighs heavy in your hand.

It has always been, even after years of wielding it. In a way, that fact alone was comforting in itself. Almost like the gentle weight of a blanket, wrapped around your shoulders.

It was perfectly balanced, as if it was tailor made for your own two hands. Elaborate images of swirling suns burning ablaze was carved into its hilt, delicate little designs that gleamed in the morning’s sun. A fine sword with no equal… except its twin.

Another sword, created with the same chunk of metal. Twins, as they said, and their design reflects such. While yours represented the brightness of the great, golden sun, the other was decorated with imagery of hearts and roses. The burning of passion, its heart rivaling the sun’s.

And who else would wield such a sword but the heartthrob of the Heartsabyul Clan, Ace Trappola himself? He’s always seemed to follow his heart, rather than his head. Fulfilling every desire, every whim of his very own… even if that leads him face first into trouble sometimes.

Just last night, he was reprimanded for sneaking a bite or two of the Head of House’s tart. Ace’s scandalised face pops into your mind, his mouth all agape.

You couldn’t resist a laugh. As you chuckle, Ace stares at you quizzically, before a twinkle of mischief slipped into his eyes. As quick as a mouse, he rushes forward with all his fancy footwork. Making quick work of your defensive stance, disarming your sword with a flick of his wrist. Taken by surprise, you close your eyes for one second…

Only to be swept off your feet, Ace’s steady arm around your waist. He holds you tight, his breath heavy from the sudden burst of energy. Yet as tired as he was, he still managed a sly wink and a boyish grin.

“Gotcha.”

You sigh theatrically, before giving him a playful slap on the arm.

“Goodness. It’s my birthday, Sir Trappola. Wouldn’t it be much more nicer if you showed some mercy to me today? Taking a lady unawares… how rude.”

Ace gasps, offended.

“Some mercy? You beat me hollow on a regular, Ashi dear!”

Hopping back up, you poke the very tip of his nose, laughing all the while.

“And. I’ll. Do. It. Again! You have to be kept humble somehow.”

Ace sighs, before he catches your wrist within his hand, gently coaxing it towards his lips. Pressing a soft, gentle kiss into the palm of your hand. Glancing at you sheepishly, he shoots you a smile. A gentle one, this time. A more tender one. The kind of smile one would give their lover, a soft, sappy sort of smile that just melts on your lips.

Ace holds your hand towards his cheek, nuzzling into the curve of your hand. Your cheeks grow warm at the sudden show of affection, as you were caught off guard. Ace takes this chance to whisper softly. Tender, heartfelt words meant for you, and you alone.

“And I hope you’ll be there to keep me humble for all my life, for I cannot see a life without you by my side.

Happy birthday, Ashi dear.”

Happy birthday ASHI!!!! A little early but YKNOW what the inspiration hit too hard so I simply must hit you harder, Y’know? I went with a fantasy sort of setting cause it fit Ashace so wellll!!!! Happy birthday again!!!!!!!

ASHI’S BIRTHDAY CAMPAIGN! 🌺

“…Ceruru, you have like a super decked out mind, don’tcha?!” Ashi squeaked out, mind still warbling after hearing the tale woven especially for her, “That’s a real… Nice imagination you got!”

The mage seemed quite satisfied with the girl’s reaction, face red despite her attempts to push it down, “I like, totally appreciate it! You have a total gift! But I’ve gotta— Um— Go, so… bye-bye! Thank you SO much!” Wishing Ceru a quick goodbye and thank you as they snickered to themselves, she ran over to the nearest restroom in attempts to calm herself down.

…Unfortunately for her, she wasn’t able to evade her favorite ginger’s eyes in time.

(ASHI REACTION UNDER CUT)

…..MR TRAPPOLA HELLO. HI!!! THE WORST PART IS THAT WHEN YOU SENT THIS IN I WAS LITERALLY LEARNING SWORDFIGHTING???? SO IT FELT EVEN MORE LIKE. ugwhwgshwgsw. I LITERALLY SCREAMED AT TYE END OF IT AND I WILL SCREAM AGAIN. your ace is so cute he’s so squishy……. the banter…… THANK YOU SM CEURRU 🫶 YOUR WRITING ALWAYS HITS

[mulberryasher]

[Fanservant]

Huitzilopochtli

Huitzilopochtli

Japanese Name: ウィ��ィロポチトリ

Class: Saber

Rarity: SSR: ★★★★★

AKA: Hummingbird, Eagle, Fake Blue Tezcatlipoca, Fake Grand Saber, True Sun of Mexica

Stats: ATK: 12,831 Lv.100 Grail ATK: 14,047 HP: 14,531 Lv.100 Grail HP: 15,920

Personal Skills:

First Skill: Fifth Sun: A

Grants self-guts status for 1 times 3 turns. Increase the party’s attack for 3 turns. Increases party's critical damage for 3 turns. Charge party’s NP gauge. Grants party Invincibility Buff Block for 1 time, 3 turns. Removed the buff and changed to reduce their defense for 3 turns.

Second Skill: Tezcatl eye: EX

Increase own NP damage and critical damage for 3 turn. Charge own NP gauge and gain critical stars. Ignore Invincibility for one turn and Grant's self-invincibility for 3 attacks, 3 turns.

Third Skill: Solar: A

Increases own Buster performance for 3 turns. Increases own Arts performance for 3 turns. Reduces their defense for 3 turns. Increases own attack for 3 turns. Increases own damage against Divinity enemies for 3 turns.

Class skills:

Magic Resistance: A

Territory Creation: EX

Divine Sun: A

Appreciation of Weapons: A

Parameter:

Strength: EX

Endurance: A

Agility: EX

Mana: EX

Luck: B+

NP: EX

PROFILE

Default:

It was the most powerful deitiy, without a doubt, within the Aztec world. He was born as an undefeated, ruthless warrior on the battlefield, bloodthirsty and bloodshed field, sun and rules, rising sun to the bright sun; when the Aztecs were at war, he was the protector or sacrificed to protect the people as the god of warrior, people believe the incarnation of the sun and replace Nanahuatzin, the sun god from the Aztec Mythology.

Although Hulitzilopochtli would be best suited for the Berserker class, yet was summoned as a pseudo-servant and Saber class.

Bond 1:

Height/Weight: 188cm/80kg

Origin: Aztec Mythology

Region: Latin America, Mexica, Mexico

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Gender: Male

“All I wanted was to protect the people, but I did not. I didn’t want to be a hero or warrior. I wanted to live warmly with my siblings and people.”

A deity known as the god of warrior is considered the god of sun and incarnation of the sun. He was also the patron god of the Aztecs and the capital city of Tenochtitlan. He wielded a weapon called Xiuhcoatl, the fire serpent, and used different weapons in his arsenal during the war field. People believed that they needed human sacrifice to strengthen their efforts.

Bond 2:

Personality

Extroverted, calm yet vibe older brother.

He is a bloodthirsty warrior, aggressive to a fault yet self-sacrificed to defend his people. Until he manifested a body, his host influenced his mind more. He is becoming a lovely older brother and extroverted. His host has a mindset as a mage, and martial arts influence his critical thinking and strategy. He does not hesitate or doesn't think about himself and only thinks he protects others. He is like a big brother who lectures to others or is playful with a smile. During the battle, he is more calm and collective. He is quite a gentleman, and caring comes to others.

He gives off as someone who is enjoying his retirement. When it comes to his routine, it is frightening. He woke up very early to practice for the taijutsu basics, then practiced his magecraft, which involved materializing objects and familiarizing all varieties of weapons.

Bond 3:

As he was defined as the most powerful and honored deity on Earth within the Aztec world, other Aztec deities feared his existence and, at some point, tried to kill him. In the myths, he was a minor hunting god of the Mexica. He is the deity who guided the Mexuca people to the Valley of Mexico from their previous home. He commanded the building of a city known as Tenochtitlan, which became the capital of the Aztec Empire. Then was worshipped as the god of the sun and became the fifth sun. When the Aztecs established their new environment and quickly replaced a Tonatiuh, the sun god, Aztecs believed their worship involved human sacrifice to be his strength effort not only that they also sacrificed the warriors who died in battle.

In the earliest origin myths of Huitzilopochtli, he is described as the fourth and final son of Ometecuhtli and Omecihuatl. During the first 600 years of his life, Huitzilopochtli was born without flesh, but only a bone, and remained fleshless. Huitzilopochtli and his brothers created the world and its laws after 600 years had passed following the events that took place 600 years before. There is a version of that Coatlicue that saw hummingbird feathers fall from the sky. When she picked up, she became pregnant with Huitzilopochtil. In some versions, he protects his mother or avenges the murder of his mother against Couolzauhqui and defeats his siblings, Centzonhuītznāhua.

Bond 4:

Fifth Sun: A

He replaces Nanahuatzin as the new sun of the Aztecs.

Tezcatl Eye: EX

An ability that is the eye is like a second mana cord with magic circuits out of the body. There is clairvoyance and kinetic eyesight, which is gained to see things other than average, like seeing the inner energy of the life of all nonliving and living creatures. Can predict and know the opponent slowly. This can copy other mage’s magecraft and memorizing. There is a second phase of this eye, which can evolve and change the shape of the eye’s user, and it can use all the elements to control the opponent physically and mentally. The last ability is unique and exclusive to a person. Is still unknown of his ability because he didn’t use it during the time when he was summoned. Currently uses half the power of the Tezcatl Eye. Tezcatl Eye is only passed down to the Morarseu Clan. An unknown clan or a hidden clan was unknowingly destroyed in 1994—no record about the hidden clan, only the death of the people, and don’t know if their any survivors in the timelines of Fate/Stay Night series or Fate/Grand Order from any organization.

Solar: A

Using his own mana core connects the earth's planet to the solar sun.

Bond 5:

『Xiuhcoatl Moraresu』

Rank: EX

NP Type: Anti-Army Noble Phantasm

Range: 30-40

Maximum Targets: 100 people

Sol Blade Creation

A Noble Phantasm that creates an unlimited variety of weapons and changes the Planet field as wildfire. The place is a unique marble phantasm, sent back to the Aztec War period from the fallen wildfire field with ruined temples of the Tenochtitlan field of different weapons. He connects to the planet Earth and connects his imagination or views as his sword is morphed into a materialization. Mini energy of weapons provided by thearthet went toward his sword to complete his sword, revealing his blade in his hands. A single swing of his sword can cut the law of physics.

The blade’s name: is Xiuhcoatl Moraresu. Xiuhcoatl was a mythological serpent as a spirit form of Xiuhtecuhli. Become a weapon wielded by Huitzilopochtli. Xiuhcoatl is called a symbolic and descriptive of “fire serpent.” Xiuhcoatl is interpreted as the embodiment of the dry season and was the weapon of the sun. Moraresu is the surname of the host. It represents Huitzilopochtli using his magecraft called Atom magecraft to help his divine to create Marble Phantasm. Also, Moraresu is half-Japanese and used his influence mindset and knowledge of modern. To know Xiuhtecuhli's kind of weapon would then materialize it as a twist-shaped katana.

“As this sun fades away to become the blade who reaches this inner world. I used many weapons on this bloody battlefield, I will create the blade that I desire. Ahora ven a mí mi Xiuhcoatl Moraresu!”

Identity:

Huitzilopochtli, is a Saber Class Pseudo Servant summoned by Yukari Akiwara. He confirmed himself as a Servant and not a Grand Servant in my OC timelines of Grand/Order. Later on, Ritsuka Fujimaru of Chaldea was summoned as a still Saber.

Huitzilopochtli is a eagle deity. He was the tribal god of the Aztec people, known both as a war god and as the incarnation of the sun. The Aztecs worshipped Huitzilopochtli as the sun, causing many deaths and human sacrifices. Guided by Huizlipochtil, the Aztecs quickly largely replaced a Tonatiuh temple around the capital city of Tenochtitlan. Huitziopochtli defeated many deities in the Aztec world.

He is the final and youngest sibling and is known as the loyal and ruthless god of war, yet some myths are out of character, as he wants to protect the people or his mother. Many Divine Spirits are represented as Huitzilopochtli uses his divinity power like Tenochtitlan, the dinosaur king, and Tezcatlipoca. At some point, an aspect of him is known as Blue Tezcatlipocas from Tezcatlipoca. Can’t be summoned fully self as the god of the sun. The Servant Huitzilopochtli is a Pseudo-Servant but summoned with a human vessel named Moraresu Isamu (モラレスイサム) and also Saint Graphs identity as the god of warriors before he was known as the god of sun.

Dialogue

Summoned:

"Are you the Master? I'm Huitzilopochtli, the god of warriors. My class is Saber as a Psudeo-Servant. Let get along well, right, Master."

Summoned (Clear Shatterzone 7):

"Saber, Huitzilopochtli. Well well well, this is interesting. It looks like I'm on your side now, and I hope we get along. I will serve you as my Master."

Relationship:

Cuauhtémoc (OC):

“Cuauhtémoc is some what unique when we hangout. The first time was pretty funny. When I saw her, she gave off a vibe of an elegant lady but she was a fan girl when it come around me. I didn’t expect that from her."

MORARSEU (Caster)(OC):

“Well, well, their another person named MORARSEU. Perhaps he may have known my vessel?”

Tezcatlipoca:

"Big bro, how are you doing? Doing well after calling me the fake Huitzilopochtli and fake Grand Saber and then already giving me the nickname Eaglet. It was a bit disappointing. I thought you could change it a bit. But still, you are my older brother and still my family. I hope this time we spend our time as a family, big bro.

Quetzalcoatl:

“So you also summoned as a pseudo-servant, but why? I will just let this slide because you are you. I hope there is no fight between you and Big Bro. What now? Should I call you sister? Huh, Oneechan, then.”

Kukulkan:

“Huh? Kukulkan from the Mayan deity? This is confusing. She is a different Kukulkan than I know. So she is the sun from the lostbelt. Interesting, a new god and a new sun are rising. A new of myamily…Do you want to know if I would win against ORT-Kukulkan as my Saber Class?...... Nah, I’d Win.”

Tenochtitlan:

“So she is the embodiment of the city from Tenochtitlan. Que linda pequeña hermanita that I have. I hope we will have fun and go around the place. Master… Since I was summoned and here, you would not be alone with mi pequeña hermanita.”

Ozymandias:

“So that guy is known as king of God and the sun….I do respect him and did well as a ruler but I don’t need to worry about him.”

Senji Muramasa:

“Isn’t that one of the well-known blacksmiths, too? His blade is full of power and the will of the flame, but I can still block with my hands. Hehe.”

Karna:

“So he is Karna the son of the sun god. He should relied on other than his spear. He could join me in my routine.”

Miyamoto Musashi (LOST DATA):

“You tell me Muasahi from Alternate universe. She is completely different from I know. She is simple to get along with, and during sparring, she has indeed lived up to the title of the greatest swordmaster, but still, the Musashi I know can really make me not hold back. Maybe she can also join me in my routine with other servants.”

Miyamoto Musashi (OC):

“We finally met in Chaldea. Do you want to catch up or use the blade of our world like the old time with our previous Master?”

(He is the proper human history version and Saber Class. They were summoned by a Master named Yukari Akiwara before Ritsuka Fujimaru. That is how they met the first time.)

Cynthia:

“You also here, too? I guess Yukari’s team is back. Don’t lie to me again or use me for money making.”

(She is a pretender and the goddess of the moon from Greek mythology, as Selene is the goddess of the moon. She is also often identified as Artemis, the goddess of hunting. Her true names are Selene and Cythina, and Cythina is from the Sextus Propertius and the four bok of Elegis. She was summoned with Musashi, Huitzilopochtli with her previous Master. The funny part is that Cythina and her Master lied to him to materialize his physical form to help them with an event. But Huitzilopochtli was working as the butler then earning some quick cash because of his popularity.)

Iori Muuasahi:

“Well, we finally met, so tell me, how was your old man back when you were young? I bet it was hard to get along at first, right, or it was only me.”

Gorō Nyūdō Masamune (OC):

“That blacksmith.. I don’t know I feel he is a rival. He gives off a dangerous vibe when we sparring. Perhaps it is him or his host. Who knows, but still, he is a friendly great-grandpa.”

Celeste (OC):

“That girl, she oddly very friendly to me? What did I do to earn her trust? This is the first time I ever met her.”

(She is a rider class servant. She is the daughter of Andromeda from Greek myths and she is lostdata. She is from an alternate universe or maybe a distant future whose timeline is unknown. Her personality is similar to her mother's, but she doesn’t reveal who her father is.)

Asahina Gozen (OC):

"Gozen, I know them. Isn't he the one who defeats Masamune during the Shatterzone 5? I would love to see that battle. I bet the great-grandpa was in a cage and selling as a slave, Right....uhhhhu RIGHT?"

(Asahina Gozen is a lostbelt or a different version of Asahina Yoshihide and a Saber Class. He is from the Yōsei Nihon and a half-Yōsei who is from a clan of ōni. He is the strongest Yōsei Samurai in Yōsei Nihon. This version has the memory of his pan-human history and also adopted by the ruler of Yōsei Nihon named Umiko Hizumi)

Fusō (OC):

"Wow, isn't she the tyrant queen of Yōsei Nihon? No, it is her younger version, known as Fusō the Saviour and Fusō the Witch. I don't know but I have a bad vibe from her is not of her personlity but it her mana. Maybe she can also use marble phantasm.

(Fusō is a Caster class and lostbelt of Umiko Hizumi. An unknown person that has no record in the historical records but somehow connects to the Throne of Heroes. Her purpose is to cast the Wold's Mana in the Yōsei Nihon. Like her future adopted son, she also received memories in different way of Pan-Human History Umiko Hizumi. Fusō was the Inner Sea of the Plaent of her purpose. Hizumi is an older sister of the "Creation of Magecraft" lost in the record and Hizumi is a woman of selfish witch that wants to rule humanity in her own way)

Something you Like:

"Something I like is quite simple: my family, my people, and others who support me, like you, Master."

Something you Hate:

"What do I hate? I don’t really know. I know there are many things I can hate, like misunderstandings and my siblings, but I can’t hate them."

About the Holy Grail:

"You mean that energy supply? I’m not really that interested. I just want to focus on the extra time in Chaldea and also want to spend with my brother and sisters."

[cutebbcute]

In the summers silence, I was getting violent

Glenwood series

Summary: Ranger just wanted to help their best friend move. Little did they know they would completely forget what really happened that night.

Warnings: major character death, a cliff, violence, non-consensual biting.

They /them

They/them Pronouns for ranger.

Word count: 2,087

"Your what?" Rangers eyes open with surprise. Eyes fanticly looked at Isaiah, trying to understand.

" Well, she said she has this nice house off a trial not too far from he -"

"So you're just leaving that quick!"

The room went still. Ranger threw their hand up and stared at Isaiah looking for an answer. He just gave a pleading look back.

"Look," Isaiah sighed. "She says that she needs my help, that my magic could help her turn back!" He flashed a bright smile at ranger. " I could use my powers for something this time, and she says she could teach me more about them."

He looks back at Ranger, expecting a happy face, but all he sees is one of hurt.

"You barely know this girl Isaiah, how are you sure. What if she takes you into the woods to murder yo-"

"She would never, you know this dude. She was a blood mage before, so I think she just sees herself in me.. I guess."

Isaiah begins to take more clothes and carful folds them into his hiking backpack that has a bunch of different patches on it.

Ranger sit on his bed with their head in their arms.

" Have you even told your mom?" Ranger asks, voice filled with worry.

"You know she doesn't care dude, why do you think she sent me to those summer camps, and now she has a new boyfriend to worry about." Isaiah runs a hand through his hair, sighs, and falls into the bed, looking over at his best friend.

"What about me, Isaiah? What if you get hurt and and..." Ranger says as their voice quivers, they look over at Isaiah eyes filled with worry.

"Dude," Isaiah sits up and moves to be next to them. "You are such a mother hen." He pushes rangers hat down infount of their face.

Ranger lets out a few chuckles before they shove him back.

"Trust me, I'll be fine, I'm just going to stay with her for a bit while she trians me. Plus, the trail to her house isn't too far from here."

"You're going to walk to her house now. It's about to pour, and the sun should be setting soon."

Ranger says, glancing outside the windows, the sun is just starting to set, and the sky is filled with black clouds.

Isaiah looks out the window for a bit before looking back at Ranger. "I'll be fineeeee."

"You're going against Hikers code? How about I help you bring stuff? She won't care, right?"

Isaiah looks off for a bit in though before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't think she would care, plus I could use some help."

"Alright, give me 5 minutes." Ranger smiles before rushing out.

They run down the street to their house, they run in quickly, throwing their hat to the side, and began making a bag filled with the essentials as if they had done this before. Flashlight, snack bars, 2 water bottles, a small first aid kit, and their trusty pocket knife.

Huffing trying to catch their breath, they look over to their desk. It's a photo from when Ranger and Isaiah were at prom. Both of their prom dates left them, so they dipped and decided to go to McDonald's still all dressed up. Ranger smiles at the picture, grabs their bag, and rushes out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ranger and Isaiah stand at the entrance of the trail. It's one they have done so many times before.

"She said to meet her at the cliff point," Isaiah looks up from his phone to ranger.

"Ok, still a decent hike up, but it's nothing we haven't done before. Did you tell her I'm coming?" Ranger takes their eyes off of the path ahead of them and looked at Isaiah, their gut filled with a bad feeling.

"No, but she shouldn't care. You're just helping me bring something up, and then after I settle in, I should be able to visit you." Isaiah brushes ranger off and begins to walk ahead

"Should? Why wouldn't you visit me?" Ranger asks, still filled with worry.

Isaiah looks back to Ranger as he stops in his tracks. " Well, shes.... she's worried I'll hurt someone." Isaiah looks down

"Isaiah, in your years of knowing me and showing me your magic, have you hurt me?" Ranger walks up and pats his shoulder. "Plus, if you ever need a dummy to practice on, im right here." Ranger flashes Isaiah a toothy smile before motioning forward. "Come on, let's try to beat the moon. The sun is starting to set."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took about 45 minutes of walking, but two of them slowly made it up the trial into an opening. There are a few signs, 2 picknick tables, and some trash. But the best thing about this part was the view of the cliff. it was a beautiful view of the mountains, trees, and the sun as it finally dipped past the horizon.

Ranger look out, a chill going down their spine as darkness Stared to set in. They grab their flashlight from the side of their bag and flick it on. They shine it towards Isaiah.

"She says she is on her way now." Isaiah smiles as he puts his phone away in his back pocket. He turns his head to look at the view. "It shouldn't be long since she's a vampire, they are quick as fuck." Isaiah smiles.

"This is the skin of a killer, Bella."Ranger throws their head back in laughter at their own joke. Isaiah begins to laugh back. It take a minute for them to gain their composure back.

"So what are you going to do while I'm doing this?" Isaiah asks, facing Ranger as he crosses his arms at them. Ranger looks at him for a second before looking out at the view.

"Might become a park ranger."

They srug their shoulders.

"That.... actually sould perfect." Isaiah chuckles to himself, "you always are a sucker for the outdoors.... and rules."

Ranger gives a playful shove to Isaiah as he laughs. "Just becaus-"

"OH ISAIAH!!" A high pitch voice calls out from behind them. They both turn to face who was calling the name.

"Charlotte!" Isaiah runs over to her and opens his arms out wide. She quickly denied the hug and gives him a pat on the shoulder. "Oh, you know I'm not the huggin-..." She stares at ranger, red eyes glowing in the light from their flash light.

"Hey Charlotte " they give a quick response.

Charlotte turns to face Isaiah. "Isaiah, doll I though we talked about this." She gave Isaiah a look of pity.

"They just wanted to help me up here, that's all." Isaiah lowers his smile, and his brows scowl together.

"Yeah, is there a problem with that." Ranger quips back.

Charlotte stants and looks back and forth between the two before speaking. " Isaiah, may I speak to you privately for a minute."

Isaiah frowns at her before looking at Ranger. "Yeah ,sure." Ranger takes the idea and goes to sit at one of the picknick tables. They slunch down and start to pick at the table. A water drop falls on their head. They look up and see a cascade of water falling. They were to focus in the rain, and suddenly, a shout catches their attention.

"Look, Charlotte, if you don't like them, I don't care their my best friend, and I'm not just going to leave them!" This is followed a harsh slap. Isaiah stumbles to catch his body , holding his stinging cheek, and he quickly looks back at Charlotte.

"You are going to get them killed, don't you notice th-" Charlotte catches rangers punch right before it hits her face. She breathes out. " I don't have time for this."

She shove ranger back, and they go flying. Their body rolls back into the now muddy path. They cough as the wind was knocked out of them. Isaiah looks over to his best friend he then trys to launch his body towards them, but before he can, he is pulled back by the back of his neck. He was forced to look at Charlotte, and he bagan to hear a ringing in his ear as his vision started to fade.

Charlotte was mouthing words he couldn't hear. Suddenly, Charlotte was knocked out of concentration as a body collided with her. Hands trying their best to grab at Isaiah. She drops Isaiah and turns and hits Ranger in their face. A loud crack fills the air as Ranger stumble back, holding their nose. trying to get a sense of their surroundings. Everything was too much. The rain, the mud, the pain, the worry. Their eyes open to face Charlotte. " I'll tell the Bureau, the- this has to be illegal."

"OH would you just shut it."

Ranger is quickly grabbed by the Throat... they cough and grab at her hands. Eyes bulging, they frantically look around. Their eyes land on Isaiah, whose body layed close to the edge of the cliff. He slowly shakes his head up his arms hold his face up from the mud. He's covered in mud, he tries to stand but as he does the ground from under him slips...

Ranger watches, and they frantically try to claw out of her grip. They let out a horse. "ISAIAH!" Everything feels as if it was in slow motion. Isaiah body begins to quickly slide off the side of the cliff. He frantically tries to grab at the ground, but it's no use. The whole chunk of ground he was on was mud. Mud that was slipping of cliff. Charlotte let go of ranger their body begin to fall to the ground. Just like Isaiah. They tried to reach out, but it was not use.

Isaiah body fell, ranger knew from the sick tud they heard.

Rangers body begin to shake, they started to hyperventilate, this wasn't happening. They wanted to believe that Isaiah was safe right next to them. But every blink of their eyes showed his helpless eyes right before the fall. The sick and wet thump of his body hitting the ground. They screamed.

They only thing that pulled them from this downward spirle was Charlotte yell. "Son of a bitch!" She quickly threw her gaze at ranger. "You!"

Before ranger could speak, her hands were around their neck. "Do you have any idea of what you've done!"

Ranger eyes bulged out as they stared at her. They felt anger build up in their chest. They weren't going to let her get away with this. They quickly grabbed their trusty pocket knife and slammed it into her arm. The next thing they knew, they were slammed into a tree. Everything hurts, their body, their mind, and slowly Charlotte walks up to them. With one hand, she grabs the side of their throat and brings them up to their feet. She stares at them as if she's deciding something. Then her eyes light up, her fangs show as she shows a crazy smile. "At least you can be a blood bag." Rangers eyes look up at her in fear as

She forcefully tilts their head to the side and CRUCH. Ranger trashes against the bite, pain racing threw them.

they feel paralyzed. Their eyes slowly begin to close, but just as they due Charlotte takes her mouth off their throat. A hand opens one of their eyes forcefully. "Im not done with you." She growls and grabs them by the sholders. They see her lips move, but they can't hear anything but ringing. Only something about magic? They panic as they are draged but too tired to fight it off. Suddenly, the ground slips from them... they are falling...THUD.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hotshot?" Ranger head snaps over to Clare, their eyes soften when they see her. She walks over and places an unbrela over the two of them.

"You know, for someone as smart as you, I would think you would be smart enough to not sit out in the rain." Claire, look at them and hold out a hand. Ranger gladly accepts it and is pulled out of their seat. A hand gently glides them inside. "We just got you all fixed up. I don't need you to get sick now." Claire chuckles before putting the unbrela down. "Stay here. I'll go get you a towl. Clare walks away from Ranger to go retrieve a towel. Ranger watches her go, and then they look outside at the rain. The ground was slowly mixing into mud.

[giggly-squiggily]

She Likes You! (Black Clover)

We're at it again- WHOOO! :D

Heyo everyone! This is part two of a collab I'm doing with the amazing @intheticklecloset We decided to embrace our shippy selves and our love of Black Clover to bring y'all some confessional tickles! (or in my case; realization ones lols)

💖💖💖For Nym's Part💖💖💖

Summary: Yuno does some thinking after Asta helped him realize his feelings for the Leopold. Maybe he can help him realize the ones from a certain water mage in return?

“Don't you think I’d notice if someone had feelings for me?

Yuno was still rather shocked by such a statement. The delivery was matter of fact too- like Asta truly believed in what he was saying. He was either convinced or obtuse- or both. Asta could be both.

The wind mage leaned back against the grassy hill, arms behind his head as he played back the other day’s events over and over again. It was a good conversation, and much has happened since. All good things really.

So why was he so hung up on the comment? Did it really matter in the long run?

His focus switched back to Asta and his teammate- Noelle was her name, right?-leaving. He remembered how she looked at him when he wasn’t paying attention, the warmth that spread across her cheeks and the softness in her eyes showing her true feelings for the smaller mage. When he did look at her, she’d hide it quickly- trying for disinterest with little success.

‘Is that how I looked with Leo?’ The thought hit him like a tornado, making everything come together. That was it- that same hopelessly in love expression that girl wore with Asta. She felt for him how he felt for Leopold.

Somehow, the thought made him rather sad. Yuno hadn’t realized it before, but he was starting to empathize with her situation. Being in love with someone who you don’t even know likes you back.

At least, that was his own predicament until recently.

“Hey.” A finger poked his forehead, making him open his eyes. Green irises looked down at him, framed by vibrant hair. He looked upside down from his position, but his smile was as bright as the sun. “There you are. Whatcha thinking about, wind chime?”

“I told you to call me Yuno.” He huffed with a small blush as the redhead somersaulted beside him, getting comfortable. He didn’t know what changed, but one day-Leopold approached him with his heart in his hands, declaring his feelings in that special Vermillion way of his. They’ve been keeping things on the downlow since, but Yuno couldn’t be happier. “I’m just thinking about Asta. That girl really likes him, huh?”

“Noelle? Oh man- she’s crazy about him!” Leopold nodded excitedly, scooting close to him and resting his head against his chest. “Anytime anyone brings up his name she perks up, but if you ask her directly she’ll try to drown you. It’s cute.” He grinned, his smile faltering some. “Still, I’m worried about her. What if Asta breaks her heart?”

“He won’t.” Yuno replied automatically, perhaps a touch too hard. Leopold only chuckled in response, patting his chest.

“I know he won’t. Not intentionally. I just don’t think he quite gets she’s into him yet.” Leopold mused, playing with the tufts of Yuno’s Golden Dawn uniform. “Granted, I was pretty dense myself until my siblings asked me if I liked you. After that, it was like someone cleared all the fog in my brain.” He grinned up at Yuno, eyes soft. “I know it’s not a perfect solution, but sometimes you just need somebody to come over and hit you with an obvious truth for things to click.”

Yuno had been nodding along listening to him, but that last part struck a chord.

Of course..why didn’t he think of that sooner?

“You’re brilliant, you know that?” Yuno told him, taking Leopold’s chin in his hand as he kissed him quick. The redhead was beaming when they pulled away. “Completely brilliant.”

“Hmm, tell me again without words, yeah?” The redhead grinned as Yuno kissed him again and again.

His plan would have to wait until later it seems.

~~~

“Noelle likes you.”

There- he said it! Since his time with Leopold, Yuno had been debating on how to approach the subject matter. Should he do what Asta did and teasingly lean into it? Ask questions that would eventually lead to his friend coming to the realization himself?

In the end, the second they met up once again to hang out- it just came out like that. His version of a greeting.

“Huh?” Asta blinked, staring. “..huh?”

Okay- maybe should have started with the greeting. “Hey, what’s up? Noelle likes you.” Nailed it! He watched, waiting for Asta to process the information.

“Well, yeah- I know that.” Asta smiled, nodding. “We’re friends, afterall!”

Yuno blinked, then he closed his eyes, seeking patience. “No, I mean- she likes you.”

“Yeah…I know?” Asta waved his hands before him, puzzled. “I think she likes everyone in the Black Bulls though. Especially Vanessa and Grey, but their all girls so it makes sense-”

“Asta.” Yuno tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice as he grabbed his friend’s shoulders. “She likes you. Like how I…really like Leo.” The confession wasn’t new, but it still made Yuno’s cheeks warm.

Finally, Asta seemed to get it. “Oh? Oh! Oh…nah, there’s no way! No way at all- she doesn’t like me like that.” Asta laughed as he took a step back. “I already told you, I’d-

“Yes, you’d notice if someone had feelings for you, you’ve said that before.” Yuno gave up on hiding his exasperation, shaking his head. “Sorry to say this, but I think you’re wrong this time.”

“Whatcha mean by that?” Asta narrowed his eyes some, raising his chin with an indignant frown. “Are you saying I’m not good at picking these things up?”

“Yes.” Yuno nodded. Asta sputtered in shock, eyes wide.

“Well! I’d never!” Asta puffed, his annoyance fading when Yuno started to smile. “You’re a real jerk, you know that?”

“And you’re oblivious. I’m serious though- Noelle likes you.”

“I really don’t see it.”

“She calls you ‘dorksta.’”

“You call me ‘shortsta’- I don’t see you getting down on one knee.”

“You're not my type. She’s always looking at you.”

“Everyone looks at me!”

“Not the way she does! She’s always by your side-”

“To send me flying with water-”

“Asta!” 

“It’s true!” Asta cried back, shaking his head as he flopped into the grass beneath his feet, leaning back on his hands. “Even if she did like me like you say she does, it wouldn’t matter. She’s royalty- meaning she’s got an entire ocean of guys to pick from if she wanted. Why would she pick me?” Something uncharacteristically bitter entered Asta’s tone- a rare side of self-loathing Yuno never thought he’d hear from his best friend. “It’s like back in Hage when you pick potatoes; you grab the best ones first. No one wants the little guys.”

Yuno couldn’t believe his ears. Was this really Asta? Shaking his head, he sat down beside him in the grass, bringing his knees up to his chest. “Do you remember what you told me when I said the same thing about Leopold? You said I still have a chance, and that it didn’t matter about our social standing.”

“This is different, Yuno. Really different.”

“How?”

“Look at you!” Asta waved a hand at him, gesturing to his entire being. “You’re tall, cool as hell, have amazing magic- not to mention you’re an amazing person inside and out, even when you’re being a jerk. It’s easy to see why Leopold likes you so much- you’re the whole package.” Asta slumped some, his hand dropping back to his side. “But me..what do I have to offer? I’m short, loud, and smelly. I’m nothing until I become the Wizard King. Until then-what can I offer her if I did like her back?”

“Asta..” Yuno felt his heart break at his friend's words. Asta sat up then, putting on a brave smile.

“It doesn’t matter- I’m already in love as is! One day- I’ll come home and sweep Sister Lily off her feet! She’ll accept my proposal one day-AH!” Suddenly the world tilted as Asta was unceremoniously pushed back into the grass. “Yuno? You big jerk- you can’t go tackling people like that!”

“I’m not the jerk here.” Yuno growled, tone nearly unreadable as he cracked his knuckles, staring daggers into Asta’s soul. “Enough is enough- if you’re too blind to see what’s right in front of you, I’m just gonna have to open your eyes myself!”

“Huh? What are yo-ohohohooeheahhahaha!” Almost immediately, the smaller boy arched with a yelp, hands shooting down to grab Yuno’s wrist as they scratched along his waist. “Yuhuhuhuhuno, wahhahahait! Gehahahahah, yohohohou jeheheherk- whahahhat the heheheehll?”

“Oh? What- you think you can tickle me until I confess and not get it in return?” Yuno’s death glare melted into a warm smile as he carried on scritching his fingers against Asta’s tunic, making his friend squirm and giggle. “I’m not stopping until you admit you’re worthy of Noelle’s feelings!”

“Buhuhuhuht I’m nohohohohot! Nohohohot yheheheheht!” Asta cried out, arching when Yuno dropped to his hips, pressing tickly thumbs into the soft spots. “Geahhahahha, Yuhuhuhuno! Dohohohohon’t nohohoht thehehehhehre!”

“Yes there! You’re so dense, I bet if someone cut your head open, they’d find bricks! And another thing- what are you saying you’ve got nothing to offer? So what if you’re short and smelly- that’s just you! You’re also brave, heroic, and determined! Do you really think Noelle only likes you based on the shallow things?” Tsking, Yuno kept one hand on his hip while the other moved to Asta’s ribs, making him shout before dissolving into giddy snickers. “She looks at you like you’re the only star in the night sky. She hangs onto every word you say, and she’s always flustered and shy whenever you look at her. She’s in love with you!”

“Ahehahahahhhahaha! Ehehehheven ihihihihihif thahahhat’s truuhuhhuuhe- I dohoohohohn’t thihihihk-GEHAHHAHA YUNO!” The second fingers attacked his stomach, Asta was flailing like a fish, his softer giggles shooting up to a proper burst as his worst spot was attacked. “GEHHAAHHA NOHOHOHOHO!”

“Yes! This is what you get!” Yuno smirked, deciding to go all out. Pulling out his most diabolical weapon, he leaned down and got right up to Asta’s ear. “Come on, whittle Asta- you and I both know you’re much better than you think. Admit it, will you? Please, for me?”

“TRAHAHHAHAITOR!” As if Asta couldn’t laugh harder! The dreaded teasing voice Yuno discovered worked so well on him sent him into near silent laughter- face red and eyes growing misty. Finally, he gave in, smacking the ground repeatedly and pulling at Yuno’s coat in submission. “OHOHOOHKAY OHOHOHOKAY ENOHOHOHOUGH!”

Yuno did as requested, pulling his hands back as he watched Asta curl into a loose ball against the ground, gasping for air. His cheeks were bright red, stained with tear streaks from how hard he was laughing. For a moment, Yuno felt a bit bad.

Then Asta was on his feet tackling him into the grass for revenge and Yuno realized feeling bad for someone so energetic wasn’t always the best idea.

~~~

“Heh. This feels all too familiar.” Asta laughed, breathless beneath the warm sun as he laid side by side with Yuno. “Weren’t we just having this conversation?”

“Can’t remember. My memory is as short as you.” Yuno snickered, laughing more when Asta threw a handful of grass at him.

“Shut up! Jerk.” Asta grinned, looking up towards the sky. After a moment, he spoke again, voice careful. “Do you…really think she likes me? Like, truly likes me?”

“She thinks the world of you, Asta.” Yuno reassured him, watching the emotions play out on his friend’s face. Realization there might be something there, anguish of possible rejection. And hope…something hopeful that maybe, just maybe…”Even if she has a hard time expressing it. I think she’s scared to tell you cause you might not feel the same.

“You don’t have to tell her now if you’re unsure. Just don’t drag her along, okay? When you realize how you feel about her, make it known- regardless of what it is. Believe me when I say..” Yuno’s ears burned as he turned away from his friend’s watchful eyes. “It really, really helps to know from the otherside.”

Asta was quiet. Then he reached out, punching Yuno’s shoulder gently. “To think it was only yesterday it was me comforting you when you were unsure. Thanks, Yuno. For everything.”

“Hmm.” Yuno nodded, bumping his fist against Asta's, pretending the mistiness of his vision was from the earlier tickle attacks. “Thank you too.”

Thanks for reading! And another major thank you to Nym for collabing with me! This was the best!

[sirdolraan]

Old Ghosts

(( DWC August 2024 Day 2, Violence/Tenderness, CW: guns, death, murder, blood; @daily-writing-challenge ))

As he did every year around this time, Drogar sat in his study, examining his old, trusty revolver, surrounded by old ghosts.

"NO!" Moira screamed, as Drogar emptied his pistol into the Dark Iron Emperor, finally avenging his clan's suffering from Dagran's plotting. Far from breaking free of the control, Drogar watched, dumbfounded, as she fell to her knees, cradling the un-moving form of Dagran Thaurissan. "Thaurissan was a great and honorable dwarf," she sobbed, "You ruined my life and the life of my unborn child!"

With a sigh, he tenderly and methodically disassembled the pistol piece by piece, giving each component a proper cleaning and oiling. Lorellai had used it extensively in her adventures, and taken fine care of it, but it had been one of his first successes in gun-making, and had accompanied him throughout his adventuring career. He'd made other, more effective and ornate weapons, but this one bore the weight of history. It was important that he be the one to give it a proper deep clean.

"Drogar, reinforcements are coming in, and they've got more of those fire lizards at their back, we have to go!" the mage had yelled, beginning to cast his portal.

Moira had looked at him with hate in her eyes, Thaurissan's blood staining her dress as it pooled beneath him. "Return to Ironforge and tell my father that the heir to the Kingdom of Ironforge will be a Dark Iron dwarf. Whether he approves or not, it shall be."

Piece by piece, he restored the pistol to its functional state, clean and ready to be loaded and used again. It felt heavier in recent years, though he knew nothing had changed physically.

Some weights weren't physical.

The blue light of the teleportation spell surrounded Drogar and his allies as they made good their escape ahead of the howling cries of the dark iron soldiers and their fiery masters. Moira stared daggers at Drogar, helpless to do anything but cradle her beloved husband's corpse. Everyone else was looking elsewhere, but their gazes were fixed on each other as Drogar raised the pistol once more, pointing it at Moira.

Click.

And they were back in Ironforge, mission complete, if not successful. Thaurissan was dead, but Moira had not been rescued. "We're going to need to tell the King what happened, come on everyone," his friends had said, as Drogar lowered the pistol, staring at the empty space where moments ago and miles away he'd seen Moira Thaurissan.

Drogar set the pistol on the table, and sighed. In hindsight, it had been damn lucky the weapon had been empty. Despite his hatred for the dark irons, and the difficulties of the Cataclysm, Moira and her loyalists had not only saved Ironforge, but strengthened his home. The Council of Three Hammers had done well by his people, and their future was bright. He'd done what he was commanded to do. He'd assassinated the ruler of the enemy who warred against them. He'd avenged his uncles, aunts, cousins and more who had died to Dark Iron machinations. And only now, with success and family and everything he'd ever have wanted, was he able to appreciate the cost of what he'd done.

"Th' Butcher of Blackrock. Cannae believe I used t' take pride in it, eh boy?" he asked, gently scratching behind Balinore's ears. The great bear huffed at the disturbance, but leaned into the attention.

A noise from the stairs interrupted his reverie. He turned to see Lorellai coming down the stairs, holding her pack in one hand and looking worried. "Hey Da', do yeh have a minute t' talk?"

Hours later, the sun had risen over icy Dun Morogh, and Lorellai was saying her goodbyes. That minute had turned into hours as they'd learned that Lorellai wasn't the only meddler having the visions, and the decision had been made for those hearing the call to join Dolraan in Dalaran to lend their aid to Khadgar.

"Lass, one last thing," Drogar said, holding his daughter's hand as he drew forth the pistol. "Got it all cleaned up for yeh. May it continue t' keep yeh safe. I love yeh, lass."

Lorellai took the pistol and casually slid it into her her shoulder holster, under her coat. "Thanks Da', we'll both be back before you know it, I'm sure!" she declared, giving her dad a kiss on the nose before hoisting her pack and stepping towards the portal. Moments later, Drogar stood in a smaller crowd that began to break up and return to their work.

"Titans, if yer listenin', keep her safe. And let her give that tool a better destiny than I did."

[leanderfields]

SYNOPSIS: No song lasts forever. Not even a sparrow’s.

C/W: Ais x gn!reader, reader is MC with the curse and all, angst/tragedy- it’s fluffy until it’s not, a few innuendos if you squint, Leander makes an appearance, so does Princess and Vere, spoilers for the red choice in Ais’s demo route, mentions of blood, mild depictions of violence (more like the aftermath; I personally think it’s minor but just in case), written before the full game has been released so some creative liberties were taken when writing about Hightown and the Amaryllis District, more or less my rendition of an early bad ending for Ais, largely inspired by Enna Alouette's Wish of this Songbird

A/N: When you blog is Leander themed, but your first official post is about Ais and it's angst... haha whoops ─=≡Σᕕ(σ‿‿σ)ᕗ

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drip. 

Ais took yet another drag on his cigarette, exhaling with an indolent puff of smoke. This one looks like Princess, he thought. The Soulless let out a reverberating purr on his lap.  

“You think so too, huh?” he grinned, scratching the top of her head. The other hand crushed the butt of the cigarette beneath his heel. That was enough of playing with smoke for now. Any more then he would have to make a trip to Lowtown before the sun sets. Bars weren’t fun during the day, but the streets were livelier according to a certain mage. The idea of running into familiar faces while taking a leisurely stroll didn’t seem that bad either. 

Ais drove the cigarette butt deeper into his heel. Well, it’s not like he could leave right now. 

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Pant. Pant.

Princess sprung off his lap, wooden panels creaking as she bounced towards the Seaspring’s entrance. Her tail swayed back and forth and her tendrils followed in suit. Ais reached for an extra floor pillow. Must be someone she liked. 

“Ais! Are you home?” a cheery voice chirped between Princess’s purrs. 

The demon smirked, hoisting himself up the rafters. He shifted into a comfortable position and propped his head onto the back of his hand. The beams rasped under his weight. His crimson eyes flickered to his Soulless pet who was quick to follow his trail, leading a cloaked figure to a tea set in between two hastily arranged floor pillows. 

“Ais! I know you’re home!” 

Princess gave him an eager stare. He put a finger to his lips and tossed the Soulless a treat from up above, one she happily scarfed down.

“Ai–”

“You should try looking up more, sparrow.”

“Well, hosts usually don’t greet guests from up above,” you said, pulling your hood down to meet his gaze, revealing bright eyes full of wonder and hope. Eyes that bored into his blood-red, piercing orbs. Ais saw them one too many times before they were engulfed by the same crimson that colored these eerily still waters. 

“Who said you’re my guest?”

“If I recall, your exact words were ‘you know where to find me.’” You crossed your arms. 

Ais sighed and jumped off the rickety rafter. The wood creaked beneath his feet and the waters rippled across the spring as he towered over you. His lips were on the verge of smiling. 

“Still not my guest though.”

“Even if I made a decision?”

“Even if you made a decision,” he flashed his fangs at you with a grin. You rolled your eyes and took a seat on one of the floor pillows. Princess trotted over to your side. Her tail continued to wag while you hummed a sweet song, pouring tea into two cups. Someone’s in a good mood. You were fairly relaxed despite dubbing the Seaspring as “the creepiest place in the world”. 

“So what’s your verdict?” he asked. 

“The tea is oversteeped,” you quipped, handing him a cup.

“That’s no way to treat a host,” Ais said, taking a generous sip of the moderately oversteeped tea.

“I thought I wasn’t a guest?”

Ais glanced at his cup, the floor pillows and the Soulless who seemed to enjoy your company more than his. He crouched down, meeting you at eye level. You flinched the moment his fingers made contact with your forehead. “You also thought I was a host.”

“Resorting to violence, already?” you giggled, rubbing your forehead. It differed from the crude laugh you let out when he told you about Ocudeus. This laugh was an endearing sing-songed melody that filled the empty spring with the same wonder and hope in your eyes. Ais’s own eyes lingered on the distinctly pink area of your skin. 

“Answer the question, sparrow.”

Your laughter halted. The mirth fell from your face as quickly as it came. You coughed and cleared your throat, “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night.”

“Said a lot of things last night,” Ais said dryly. He made three bad impressions during your first encounter. Many things had gone awry last night at the Wet Wick. Would that be the fourth or fifth bad impression he’s made since meeting you? It was an average bar brawl for him, but not for a newcomer as soft as you were. He flexed his bandaged hand. Well, maybe you weren’t that soft. 

“The thing you said about my curse… ‘Is the thought of living with it so unbearable?’”

“What about it?”

“I’ve been thinking about the things you said after that,” you paused to glance at him, but your eyes were quick to retreat back to your twiddled thumbs, “I’ve survived this far with it… but I don’t want others to suffer because of my curse.”

Ais’s lips morph into a visible frown, “So you want to take a drink.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Implied it.”

“I… want to find alternatives. Vere agreed to introduce me to some people from the Senobium.”

His frown deepened. You were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for all the wrong reasons. Though he can’t say that he isn’t fond of your chirpier side. The people of Eridia were typically solemn, apprehensive or the occasional thorn in the flesh.  

“The Senobium’s bad news,” he muttered. Ais’s crimson orbs glowered at the mention of the academy. You shrunk at the face of his deadly glare. “Seriously, sparrow.”

“It’s a little better than losing a bit of this,” you tapped the side of your temple, a gibe at the same gesture he used to explain the price of drinking from the spring.

“You’d be losing far more.”

“At least I won’t lose my shitty attitude.”. 

You were always the one to roll your eyes— always annoyed, and short-tempered, but it was Ais’s turn to roll his eyes now. “You want to keep that of all things?”

“Yes, some people happen to like it,” you beamed, jabbing a finger at his side. Your touch was as light as a feather.  

“I’m the only person who said that.”

“Verbally, yes, but I think others might like me too.”

“Oh? Like who?”

“Leander.”

A deep chuckle escaped Ais’s lips. He threw his head back with a rumble, his horns scraping against one of the wooden beams. The spring water swelled beneath him and his tea had run cold. Princess snorted as well. 

“What’s so funny?” you asked, tilting your head.  

“He’s friendly with everyone. Don’t let it get to your head.”

“It’s not getting to my head.” 

Ais hummed nonchalantly, pouring himself a bit more tea. The contents of the teapot had also run cold, but the demon continued to drain every last drop of the murky liquid into his cup. 

Drip. Drip. Drip. 

He raised his cup, “Sorry. Did you want some?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I should be going now.”

“So soon?”

Words ran out of his mouth before he could catch them, but you put your hand up, a futile attempt to stop them dead in their tracks. “I just wanted to let you know about my decision. I’d rather not keep you.”

And yet they kept running. 

“Not like I got many things to do here,” Ais shrugged. 

“I’ve got many things to do in Lowtown.” 

Ais grunted and pushed himself off the ground. He smoothed his hands over his trousers, brushing off invisible crumbs. Then, he offered you a hand. 

“We’ll walk you back.” 

You checked your bandages before taking his hand. He squeezed your hand before pulling you up to your feet. You return the gesture, squeezing his own bandaged hand. The demon firmly squeezed your hand once again, as if he wanted the last laugh. Ais then turned his attention to Princess and whistled. At the signal, the Soulless rose to all fours. Her tendrils unfurled and coiled around his forearm as she trotted over to his side.

“Wanna go for a walk?” he cooed.

While Princess purred and her tail wagged rapidly, bewilderment washed over your face. You never heard Ais engage in baby talk. Few people have, but their expressions were always the same. A big, bad monster coddling another big, bad monster? How strange. How absurd!

“Oh, yes you do! Yes, you do!” 

You burst into a fit of laughter again. Princess cocked her head, looking up at her owner for an answer. Ais shook his head and scratched her chin. 

“I’m sorry,” you gasped between your giggles, “It’s just– ha– so silly!”

“Take your time, sparrow.”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m done now.” you said, wiping a single tear from the corner of your eye. Ais smirked. Sparrow sure was a fitting name for you– who always twittered in short, abrupt bursts. 

“After you.”

He pulled you towards him with a languid tug of his arm. His large hands stiffly held yours as he guided you towards the Seaspring’s entrance. The warmth of his hands seeped through your bandages. Princess trailed behind you, prancing along the wooden panels. You stared into the crimson water, the rafters, the talismans on the wooden frames– things that haven’t changed since your last visit to the spring or perhaps for a long, long time. The water formed small waves unnaturally and other Soulless creatures held your stare with a watchful, famished gazes. Shuddering, you turned your attention back to Ais.

Sunlight traced the edges of the entrance and as you neared the opening, the soft yellow rays kissed Ais’s sharp features, highlighting his jaw, nose and horns. He squinted in the harsh lighting, bringing his other hand to shield his eyes. You drew the hood of your cloak up. Princess dashed past your reluctant figures and leaped straight into the sun’s embrace. She let out a bark that sounded like a meow and, much to Ais’s dismay, stomped her legs in the bog’s muddy waters, urging the both of you to continue walking. 

“You heard the boss,” he pointed. 

You nodded and followed Princess. She was several meters ahead. Still in sight, but far enough to not eavesdrop. Not that Soulless creatures could listen in on conversations. Even if they could, there would be nothing to note. No words were exchanged between you and Ais. Your hands were still intertwined. Ais stole glances at you while you were engrossed in the horizon where Eridia stood proud and tall. At this angle, it looked like the sun was balancing on top of the city’s highest point– the Senobium’s spire. His eyes narrowed. He could hardly understand why anyone wanted to go to such a gloomy place. 

“Will you be at the Wet Wick tonight?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Ais clicked his tongue and averted his eyes to the side, “Depends.”

“Depends?”

“Might be there. Might not.”

“I see,” you smiled. Your eyes fixed themselves on the horizon and you both trudged across the mucky terrain in a stalemate of sounds. If the Soulless couldn’t find anything to note, perhaps crickets would. 

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. 

Ais pressed his lips together as the bartender poured his umpteenth glass of whiskey. He sighed. Ais had only known you for two days, but there was something about your response earlier that lacked the usual bite and spite you had. The hell did you mean by “I see”? Were you finally at ease with his presence? Were you simply relieved that he wasn’t going to be there tonight? Another bad impression? He shook his head. It didn’t matter what you thought of him. At the very least, you weren’t pissing yourself at the sight of him. 

“Something on your mind?” Leander’s peart voice chimed in. He patted Ais on the back with a firm smack before he slung an arm around his broad shoulders. The demon glanced at him, raising a brow. He had one of those chewy shots in his hands again. Ais licked his fangs. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Leander put his hands up defensively, “I’m not trying to pry! You just… seem a bit glum over here… in the corner.” His voice trailed off at the latter half. 

“No one to pick a fight with.”

“Well, there’s always some friendly arm wrestling matches here. Or maybe some tabletop card games?” 

“You just don’t want to pay for everyone’s drinks again.”

“I could pay for your next one,” he offered. 

Leander caught the glass in his hand when the bartender slid it over. He nodded at her and she seemed to have gotten the memo. Shouts erupted from the Bloodhounds by the door. Someone had scored in whatever game they were playing. The mage’s emerald eyes darted to his companions then back to Ais. 

“Duty calls.”

After another pat on Ais’s back, Leander was gone as quickly as he came. He jumped onto a table in the center, chanted something, raising his chewy shot glass and the crowd joined him. Claps, stomps, and hollers. Looks like he’s paying for everyone’s drinks again after all. Ais raised his glass a beat later than the Bloodhounds. He didn’t clap, stomp or holler, but the occasion was something worth celebrating. Free whiskey was better than cheap booze. 

Ice clinked as he set his glass down and wood creaked. Weird. He was familiar with the sound of wood crepitating, but that sound was reserved for the rafters in the Seaspring. The Wet Wick was home to the sound of wood breaking. If wood were to creak here, the only source would be that dilapidated door. Not from the roof. 

Ais leaned back against the bar counter and turned his head upward, to the sound of creaking wood. And there you were– standing on the stair landing, leaning against the railing. He tipped his head further back. You craned your neck, bringing your face closer to his, albeit at an awkward perpendicular angle. You smiled like you had struck gold. Your hair tickled his cheeks. He never paid any mind to the Wet Wick’s second floor, but he made a note to remember it now. The stairwell was also dilapidated. 

“Evening, sparrow.”

“I take it you were in the mood to come?” 

“Drinks were on Leander.”

“I see.”

There it was again. That damned “I see”. What the hell did you see? His eyes flickered over to your figure which was no longer cloaked. Your hair was disheveled, hands still covered like a maiden, and a yawn gracing your features as you approached the bar stool beside him. He saw something, alright. 

“Sleep well?” 

“Like a corpse.”

“That tired, huh?”

“I had a lot of errands to run today.”

You lunged forward and reached for a beer stein, a pitcher of water and a bottle of fruit wine behind the counter and poured yourself a helping amount of each into the mug. The barmaid paid no mind to you or your bizarre concoction. She continued polishing glasses as if you were a trick of the light. She must’ve seen combinations far more peculiar than diluted wine in a mug. 

Ais swirled his whiskey, “Got a side hustle, already?”

“I guess you could say that. I’ve been taking some odd jobs. Information is worth its weight in gold here and I need information more than anything. Of course… you’d already know that,” you said, placing your hand onto your cheek. 

“Hard not to know when you keep pestering me for some.” 

“Not anymore! You can keep your spring secrets.”

“There were no secrets. Told you everything you needed to know.”

“Yeah, in the vaguest way possible,” you deadpanned.

“Did you not learn anything at all here?”

“Excuse me?”

There was the bite and spite you had. He was starting to miss it. He worried you’d pick up some of the insipid Hightown mannerisms, but it was for naught. You were still the spitfire. Ais smirked, “You just said information was worth its weight in gold. I know none of your secrets yet you keep asking for mine.”

You frowned at a loss for words. He was right. Though, you didn’t have anything to share that was worth even a sliver of copper. Nothing interesting. Nothing groundbreaking. Nothing that would turn a few heads. Save for your curse, but Ais figured that your curse laid in your molten hands from just a glimpse so that was off the table.

“What would you like to know?” you asked, silently resigned. 

“Nothing.” 

“Then why did you make a big fuss about secrets?” 

Ais’s smile reached his ears. Your voice was nearing a shout. A rosy tint crept up your cheeks. The bar was dull in terms of entertainment on the weekdays– no roughnecks or angry sleazers–  but seeing you worked up was a sight for sore eyes.  

“You called the kettle black. Kettle’s gotta retaliate.” 

“What if I want to know more about the kettle?”

“Thought you were done with the spring.”

“I am, but I want to know more about you.”

Your smile matched his, reaching ear to ear or higher if Ais’s eyes didn’t deceive him. The demon hummed, fiddling with his silver pendant that dangled by his sternum. He was feigning deliberation, but you leaned in on his sea-glass colored bicep, humming along. A sweet harmony to contrast his timbre, ushering him to a conclusion.

“Shoot,” Ais grinned. 

“Why don’t you live in the city?” You pushed yourself off his arm. Your curious eyes leveled with his. 

“Don’t think people here like my pets much.”

The Bloodhounds seemingly roared in affirmation. Another point scored in their vapid game. Timing was great. Ais swirled his whiskey again. Its amber color mellowed out to a muted brownish-yellow. The ice had melted.

“You live out there for your pets? Isn’t it lonely?”

“My pets are good company and… I go out at night.”

“If you feel like it.”

“Especially if I feel like it.”

“So it’s not that lonely out there?”

“Being alone and being lonely are two different things, sparrow.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Is that what you think?.”

“So yes?” you tried again.

He shook his head. You opened your mouth and formed a slight “O” shape before closing it. Ais propped his head onto his knuckles and continued, “Can’t be alone or lonely with my pets and my friend.” He tapped his temple. You rolled your eyes. 

“Your friend talks?”

“‘Course they do.”

He let your snickers slip past his sharp ears. You still thought he had a screw loose up there despite him being dead serious. You, on the other hand, were dying from disbelief and laughter, but it didn’t matter if you believed him or not. If he showed you, you’d be as aimless as the Soulless or worse– pronounced as dead. Fortunately for you, he reserved Ocudeus for special once-in-a blue-moon occasions and tonight was a new moon… so he’ll play along with you. Yeah, he’s got an imaginary friend. They hit up the bar every other night and have a grand old time. The sea-glass ink that snaked around his arm was a matching tattoo with a drinking buddy whose name had long been forgotten. 

“What about you? Curse aside, why are you in Eridia?” Ais asked once your hysterics simmered down.

“I’m only here because of my curse,” you replied coolly. 

“Going home after you’re cured?”

You blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Ais’s eyes never left you– like a vulture waiting on your last breath. Looks like he hit the nail on the head. Not that it was hard to miss. You were easy to read. If his heart was on his sleeve, yours was on a platter. 

“I guess not.” 

“No family?”

“Something like that.”

“So you’re a runaway,” he reckoned. 

Your eyes fell to the table and then to Ais’s metal-clad fingers which were drumming on the wooden surface.

“Got it wrong?” 

“No, I mean, you were spot on. Intuition’s good.”

“Thanks. Got it from my friend.”

“Pft– does your friend know anything else about me?”

“You’re good company,” Ais said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Bites and barks the same amount. Terrible taste in drinks, but you hold a decent conversation so… that makes up for it.”

“I’ll have you know that my tas– hic!”

Your hands were quick to clamp over your mouth. Muffled “hics” periodically bypassed your bandaged fingers despite your vain efforts. Beside you, Ais was doing his darndest to maintain a neutral expression. His lips were pressed together tightly as if all of his teeth would fall out if he were to open his mouth. 

Hic. Hic. Hic.

Ais had failed. A snort filled your ears. You shot him the deadliest glare you could muster, but it had no effect on him. His smirk was as smug as always. He locked eyes with you, taking your cup and filling it with water from a nearby pitcher. Maybe with a little too much water. The contents sloshed around the rim and splashed onto the table once he set it down. 

Drip. Drip. Drip. 

He gestured at the mug, “Need to be fed too?”

Your lips curved upward beneath your hands, shaking your head “no”. Ais motioned at the cup once again. This time, you obliged. You lowered your bandaged fingers and wrapped them around the mug. Excess water leaked into the gauze as you gulped down half the pint in hopes of quelling your antsy diaphragm. 

“You a lightweight?”

“Didn’t drink much back home.” You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. The hiccups seemed to have subsided. You exhaled in relief and hoped that your embarrassment hadn’t traveled too far up your cheeks. 

“No one to drink with?”

“More like… I didn’t go out much.”

“Good thing you’re free as a bird now.”

You smiled, “Yeah, I can go anywhere I want.”

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. 

Ais pinched the bridge of his nose as the gutter above his head pelted him with cold droplets of water. Stormy clouds invited themselves to Eridia over the course of the night, but they couldn’t decide whether they wanted to rain or not. They sprinkled a bit of rain here and some there, but showers never lasted more than five minutes. Even a man past his prime could last longer than these “storms”. The demon sidestepped the gutter and set his foot straight into a puddle. He scowled. 

A little water didn’t hurt Ais. In fact, he liked the rain… just not when he was cradling a flimsy paper bag filled with gourmet dog biscuits. He would rather have shrimp cocktails for breakfast, lunch, and dinner than to make another trip to Hightown and talk to that snobby baker again. 

…Maybe that was a stretch. His Soulless pets deserved the best and Ais would rather bite his own tongue than let seafood get anywhere near his mouth. One shrimp cocktail was enough for a lifetime. Dealings with an elitist dragged on for only a few minutes. Seconds if Ais skipped their hoity-toity pleasantries and opted to use his fists instead– a thought he entertained from time to time after one too many “please” and “thank you's”. It was more or less an intrusive thought, a controlled impulse. Ais was more than happy to wipe the disdain off that baker’s face with a solid punch, but then Princess wouldn’t have any fancy treats for when she was on her best behavior. He clicked his tongue. For her, he would be on his best behavior too.

The sun peaked out from the ashen clouds, shining a bit of light onto Ais’s path as if the sky was seeking penance for ruining his early morning shopping trip. He turned his head. He stared too long again. Even if shrouded by clouds, the sun was always there. Nothing special. His hurried steps padded the cobblestone road with a steady rhythm. His back faced the pearly bridge that connected Hightown to Lowtown. Ais adjusted the bag in his arms as he made his way through the maze of flood-eroded buildings.  

Highborn nobles would be appalled at the sight of Lowtown, but this was Ais’s turf. No pleasantries. People here were blunt enough to let the money talk. Business was business. No “please” or “thank you’s”. You only needed to pay. If you didn’t want to pay, you exchanged information or goods. A brawl also doubled as a negotiation. A shame folks here were scared shitless of the Soulless. 

Hu. Tu. Du, du, du, du. 

Ais stopped. His crimson eyes casted their gaze to an alleyway that bisected the deserted Lowtown street that led to the spring and the lively Amaryllis District. He spun his heel and looked up at the gilded buildings of Hightown then back to the alleyway. A detour wouldn’t hurt. The Amaryllis District was closer to the bog than that bakery was. Besides, he hadn’t been there in a while. A change of pace was much needed.The walk home would be less lonely too. The district never slept. 

La, du, du, du, du. 

This tune… 

The Seaspring was home to a few, repetitive sounds: The blood-red waters dripping and rippling from seepage, the purrs and growls of the Soulless and hushed whispers. When one ventured out to the Wet Wick, they, too, heard a few, repetitive sounds: alcohol being poured and measuredly sipped, the shouts and hollers of those who had one too many drinks, and faint murmurs. 

There was not much of a difference in terms of sound between the spring and the city (save for Hightown’s polite contempt for commotion and the entertainment district’s hustle and bustle) but Ais knew a sparrow’s song when he heard one. He was sure of it– not that he was a musical prodigy or any sort. The song was unfamiliar, but he knew the sound of your voice. He never took you for a singer, but he also didn’t take you for a lightweight. He bet you never took him for the type to spoil his pets rotten either. 

He smirked as he squeezed himself through the narrow passage. 

A  flurry of colors greeted him at the end of the tunnel like a gust of wind. Cerulean and coral lanterns strung themselves from building to building. Booths lined the street with an array of pastel tents. The avenue was nothing short of paintings, artisan goods, hand-crafted trinkets and gadgets. Street food vendors were also up and running, undeterred by the untimely hour. The elephant in the room was a large shell-pink tent sat in the middle of the plaza. People flocked and filed themselves around a ticket booth. The sign by the entrance read something along the lines of “troupe”. The fuss rushed past Ais, failing to rope him in. 

His main attraction was a lone stall several paces to his right. The stand was further from its competitors, but it was as busy as any other booth in the district. Tables and benches lined its perimeter. Most of them were occupied. Some had wax candles and pressed flowers while others had glass and frayed paint brushes. Ais scanned the area and smiled, eyes landing on a bench in the corner. It was you, alright. The tune you were humming increased in volume as he tip-toed towards your table. Your back was facing him, immersed in your art project. Your hood was drawn up as well, but he caught sight of your bandages. You were trying to be discreet, but you stood out like a sore thumb to him. The Amaryllis District was vivacious and colorful. Even the air smelled colorful. You, on the other hand, were as ominous as a disciple of death– black cloak, half of your features shrouded by a cowl, and hands wrapped in gauze. And you had the gall to call the Seaspring creepy? The superstitious folks would’ve believed you if you came knocking on their door one day and told them their time was up. 

But as luck would have it, Ais never bought into that sort of bullshit. And you were scary as a rabbit. Mischief spread across his face. 

He pulled your hood down, earning a squeaky yelp from you. His hand was quick to clamp over your mouth, but nevertheless, a couple of heads turned– including yours. 

“Easy. It’s just me.”

You nodded and pulled your hood back up with a huff. He removed his hand from your mouth, barely dodging the daggers you glared at him. He grinned. 

“Top o’ the morning to you too, sparrow.”

You cocked your head. Ais put a hand behind his neck and cleared his throat. His gaze averted yours. 

“Learned something last week. Means good morning.”

“Couldn’t you just say ‘good morning’?” you muttered. 

“Gets boring.”

You rolled your eyes and returned to the glass bottle in your hand. It was short and stout, snuggly fit into your palm. He peered over your shoulder and caught a glimpse of a trio of birds flying over an ocean that was a work in progress. He frowned, realizing your little work song had ceased. He set his dog biscuits by your paint palette. You raised an eyebrow at the paper bag. 

“For Princess,” he explained.

“Has she been well?”

“The good-est girl.”

“And you?”

“The good-est boy.”

“The best,” you joked.

Ais rested his head on the base of his palm and watched you add strokes of blue to your ocean. It was a shade darker than the other blues. It reminded him of Mhin’s cape. He grimaced. It reminded him of one of those rare nights in Eridia where the skies were clear enough to see the stars. His eyes trailed up to the stormy clouds. He won’t be seeing any stars anytime soon. When Ais turned his attention back to you, you had moved onto a lighter blue. 

“You an artist?” 

“Dabbled in it.”

“How ‘bout a singer?”

“I don’t sing.”

“Could’ve sworn you just were.”

“You misheard,” you said with finality.

“Did not.” He paused, then added, “Got sharp ears.” Ais pointed to his ears. They were indeed sharp– as most of his features were. Perhaps the only thing that wasn’t sharp about him was the ink on his arms. 

He was met with silence and took it as an invitation to continue prodding at you. 

“Okay then do you hum?”

Your lips were taut. Your brows knitted together in contemplation. Then, they relaxed. Ais smiled as you reluctantly nodded. The movement was incredibly subtle. If he blinked, he would’ve missed his prize..  

“It sounded nice.” 

“You think?” Your back straightened. 

“Yeah, could’ve taken you for a performer here.” 

“Now you’re just flattering me.”

“Honest, sparrow.”

“I thought about it before… back home… being a performer– even an artist,” you gestured at your glass with your paintbrush, "But I had… another role to play.”

You tucked your hair behind your ear and swapped the blue paint out for an off-white color, sketching sea foam onto your ocean waves. A secret was on the tip of your tongue. 

“Not anymore though, right?”

You nodded. Free as a bird, you thought. You angled the glass to finish up some details. You were by no means talented. It was nothing worth auctioning or featuring in a gallery, but it was something you enjoyed, something you hoped to improve at. You found yourself coming to this booth more often than you’d like to admit. The owner knew your face and you had a collection of painted glass bottles tucked away in your room at the Wet Wick. 

“Do you come here often?” you asked, changing the subject.

“Only to see a friend.”

You turned your head to the building with pink curtains. His eyes narrowed. 

“Not like that, sparrow.” 

“You were misleading,” you shrugged.

“This district’s alright. Too perfumy though,” Ais elaborated. A philanderer was not going on his mental tally of bad impressions on you. He’d like to keep the numbers at a humble three or four. He had causal relationships in the past, but not to that extent. It’s been a while too so it didn't count. That title was more suitable for other people. He could name a few off the top of his head, but he’ll do you a solid favor and keep those names to himself. 

“You don’t come here often because of the smell–”

“Too strong on the nose.” He tapped his nose for good measure.

“When you live by a swamp?” You finished.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The water smells… strange there. It’s not like the river here.”

He knew what you meant. He knew the smell. He was certain you did too. You knew that smell all too well, considering you were welcomed by it on your first day in this city. It followed you as much as it followed him. Neither of you said a thing. Not a word or a whisper. A topic like that matched the somber skies, but clashed with the vitality of the arts and entertainment district. 

“Smells fine to me.”

“That’s because you live by it!”

Ais smirked. 

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drip.  

Those pesky gray clouds have finally decided to cry their eyes out after two days of dilly dallying in the sky, submerging Lowtown with their tears. The ramshackle districts of Eridia were no stranger to floods. It was something the people had grown used to, looked forward to even. Floods may destroy a few buildings or dent a couple of roofs, but they also wash away the pungent smell of blood and death. The downpour was so strong that the Soulless avoided the city. The people were free to wander about at night, albeit with a few limitations. There was not a single booth set up in the Amaryllis District. It was the only time the plaza got a wink of sleep. Well, most of the district. A handful of lights were still on and all pink curtains were drawn, a sign they could go all night long if they wanted to– rain or shine. That wasn’t the case for most stores in Lowtown. Most closed when the downpour began, but bars were open and that was all that mattered to Ais. 

It was when Eridia rained that he simultaneously felt the most alone and the most at home. The flooded streets were akin to the Seaspring’s waters, but there was not a single soul in sight. He waded through the murky waters with unease. The rain turned the city into his domain. He was fond of it for many reasons, but it did not do what many Eridians loved about it the most: wash away unbearable stenches. Petrichor masked the smell of death, but it was prevalent nonetheless. Something lurked in these waters, waiting to be reaped. Or perhaps Ais’s intuition was off? His senses had been haywire for the past few days. He found himself looking over his shoulder to see if someone was behind him. Heat rushed to his usually cold cheeks. His heart raced even though he barely moved an inch. The rain started not too long ago so was it a long shot to say that not everything was washed out yet?

Splash!

Ais whipped his neck around, observing the Wet Wick’s alleyway. Blood spewed from the narrow pathway and coiled around his boots. It swirled and dissolved into the flood water congregating by the Wet Wick’s entrance. He cracked his knuckles and made his way to the alleyway. Even the rain couldn’t stop a good bar brawl. The victor of that fight was a worthy adversary if they could draw blood. Even if they weren’t, he was getting restless anyhow. Throwing a punch or two and knocking someone would be an easy fix for that. Talk about exciting. 

Thud! 

His grin faded as he stepped into the alleyway. His eyes dilated at the sight of Vere pining a cloaked figure to the wall with his bare hands. Blood spilled on the wall, dripping down into the flood water. Ais knew that cloak a little too well. It was black and embroidered with little bits of gold at the hem. He saw it a few times. At the Seaspring. At the Wet Wick. At the Amaryllis District. 

He could count the number of times he saw that cloak on his hands, but the amount of times it plagued his thoughts every now and then exceeded the number stars in the sky– When will you visit Princess again? What kind of weird drink will you have next time? Would he be able to hear that song again?

The same cloak that festered in his mind was now saturated with blood. Despite the ebony fabric, there was enough blood in certain areas to dye it red. Your torso. Your legs. Your head. Though shrouded by a hood as always, your cowl was the deepest of crimsons. It was tantamount to the thick red waters of the spring. 

Vere was the first– and perhaps the only one–  to notice Ais. He furrowed his auburn brows and dropped your body onto the ground. An audible thump echoed through the alley yet you remained still, blood pooling and pooling.  

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Ais responded with silence. His eyes lingered on you. He hoped for you to chirp and twitter about something. Curse or bite someone if you must. 

“Senobium’s orders,” Vere said, tossing his hair over his shoulder, “They were snooping around too much and… you know how that goes.”

"...I see." Two meaningless words that added nothing to the conversation, something he picked up from you. He never truly grasped the meaning of the phrase– he always thought of it as a sarcastic response– but "I see" seemed suitable to use for this specific situation. The scene before Ais was truly something and damn right he saw. He saw enough to know everything.

Vere's dusty pink eyes fell to his feet where blood accumulated. His ears drooped as he stepped away from your body. If he had put his tail between his legs, he could’ve fooled anyone.  His shoulder brushed Ais’s on his way out of the alley. “We should head inside. My fur’s getting soaked.”

The demon balled his fists, words flying over his head. He sauntered deeper into the pathway and knelt down by your side. The bar’s dilapidated door creaked open and then shut, briefly shining on your marred face. There was not a single fleck of wonder or hope in your eyes. They were dull and gray like the stormy sky above you. 

“I told you the Senobium was bad news, sparrow,” Ais smiled bitterly. 

Rain trickled down his face, hot and briny. He smelt the stench of death before. He had seen disfigured bodies in the bog and drew blood during fights. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but somehow he could not bear to look at you or your mangled neck for any longer. He was getting tired of the rain already. He was tired of kneeling by your side. With a dejected sigh, Ais stood up. 

Clink!

He clicked his tongue and lifted his boot up, revealing a shard of glass. Curious, he knelt down again, examining the shattered glass around your body. Must’ve been that bottle you painted the other day. Ais could barely make out the pieces, but he saw the various shades of blue you used. His eyes shifted to a rather large fragment by his boot. Unlike the other bits of glass, this one was yellow-orange with a small black line, the silhouette of a bird flying into the sun. Ais stomped on the fragment, crushing the painted sun beneath his feet as one would with a cigarette butt. He rose from the ground and turned his back to you, but instead of entering the bar, he ventured out into the storm. 

Then maybe, just maybe, he, too, could be swept away by the rain. 

[bigfan-fanfic]

A Stolen Kiss (Male!Reader x Cullen Rutherford)

Can I request a fic where Cullen mets the reader when he was in the circle tower and they kinda live this forbidden love, sneaking back to kiss, but during the blight, the reader escapes the tower and they just meet again during the Inquisition. Cullen, however, is kinda embarrassed to talk with him again because of how he treated mages in Kirkwall but they eventually date again, please?

He tastes like mint.

He just likes to be fresh when you get to kiss, so he makes a habit of chewing on the mint leaves he can pilfer from the greenhouse rooms where the mages practice their plant magic.

There's an alcove where the patrols rarely go. It's hard not to feel like it's a betrayal when you take him there, but it's love, in this dark tower, it's a blindingly bright light in a life where you have none, so how can you resist?

Everything has been taken from you. Family, life, freedom. So when Cullen lets you take the lead, when his lips part at the slightest prompting from your tongue or teeth worrying his lip, it almost feels like the Maker giving you everything you missed out on.

You've never seen him without his armor, nor he you without your robes - there are whispers that the Templar recruits train shirtless outside the tower, but the windows start on an upper floor, and they don't let you see the sun. And yet there's something about it that makes this feel so intimate.

Your fingers tangle in his curly hair, and he moans when you tug it, just rough enough not to be considered gentle, but not rough enough to cause any pain.

"I love you" is said, because how can it not be? This is the only kind of love you'll ever get to have in this tower. A forbidden, clandestine love with a man who tastes of mint, who kisses you desperately, who cannot let himself lose control and gently bite you without uttering a prayer to the Maker and Lady.

But he finally finds a way, pulls you into a discreet broom closet and asks - more like begs, really - to touch you.

It's awkward and uncomfortable in there, but you get his armor off and marvel at him and his tanned skin and his muscles, and he gently removes your robes and what you two do cannot technically be called making love, because it's over too quickly, but you two hold each other close and it's even better, your lips finding his skin, your body protected and warm in his embrace.

He whispers "I love you" against your skin so many times you lose count...

but then, during the Blight, there's a chance. An opening as demons overtake the Circle, and you flee.

Even ten years of apostasy later, you still can remember that first time touching grass on the outside.

The Inquisition needs the help of mages. That's why you go. Not because it's pretty famously Cullen that's their armed force commander.

You accept that he's busy, but after a few weeks go by, it's pretty obvious that he's avoiding you.

So you go to find him.

He looks at you with a bit of... shame? Fear?

"Cullen... it's been a long time."

"I... you haven't changed a bit."

"Really? I feel like I have."

"You still light up a room the way you always have when you walk in."

He blushes after blurting that. Such an honest and eloquent response.

"You knew I was here."

"Yes, but... I wished to respect your distance."

"Distance?"

"I'm sure you... heard of what happened. In Kirkwall... and Kinloch. What I did. What I proposed to do."

"I did. But I also heard that you've... that the Inquisition was helping mages."

"Against my recommendation, I'm sorry to say."

"And you're still forthright to a fault, I see."

"I looked for you. At Kinloch. I thought you were dead."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm glad you did. My fear of magic... of mages. It's... I need to make an effort. To know mages. To understand that - that maleficarum and abominations are an exception and not the rule. That mages are just people. Just people trying to survive, like everyone else."

"Do you still dream of me, Cullen?"

"Yes." he breathes. "Often."

"Look, Cullen. It's been a while, I know. How about... we get to know each other. Outside of the Order. Outside of the Circle. Just us."

"I... would appreciate that chance. Though it may be short-lived, with our battle with Corypheus on the horizon."

"Then let's make the most of it."

"As always, you are right."

You whisper "I love you" as you leave, eager to start your second chance.

Unbeknownst to you, he whispers it at the exact same time.

[tsukiakurotori]

Character Intro

Hello. So, I have decided I would venture into the FFXIV side of things after a break from it due to some irl stuff. Tsukia's story has changed much from when she first came into being, but I'm excited to see where this new direction takes her as I reclaim this beloved character. And I want to share it with any who care to join me in the slow, lengthy adventure. 😊

Without further ado, allow me to introduce you to the unsuspecting tiny dragon who went from searching for her sister to stepping into her fallen sister's shoes as the Warrior of Light.

(❗Trigger warning: mention of suicide and assault)

"I was given this power to protect and to heal. The elementals entrusted it to me. They put their faith in me. I will not let down that faith."

Age: 24 (as of the start of HW)

Height: 5'0"

Pronouns: She/Her

Nameday: 8th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon

Guardian: Menphina

Laughing, bright, wise, empathetic, confident, and powerful. A young Raen Au Ra, Tsukia was born into an old family with a long tradition of being master Ninjas. However, Tsukia eventually grew to realize this was not the path she wanted, though both she and her sister were highly skilled. Both of them wanted something else. Much to the ire of their strict father.

After a traumatic event, Tsukia chose to become a Conjurer in order to protect and heal others, and then later a White Mage under the guidance of the elementals, who took a liking to her. They know she is not the type who would abuse such power, hence why they allow her to have it. She had great potential, becoming extremely powerful, though she prefers to use her strength to heal and protect. But make no mistake. If you try and harm those she loves, she will not hold back.

This event also led to her elder sister (Seiren) leaving their clan behind, casting aside who she was, for it was Tsukia's sister who killed the man who had assaulted Tsukia, a man Seiren had once considered a friend. She took up the lance rather than being a Ninja, the path she chose as Tsukia did hers. Even if it was for her little sister's sake, Seiren could not stay. They did not know what came of her after. Until the day Tsukia began to look for her.

She’d finally been able to gain approval to venture out of the clan and so went in search of her sister, only to find that Seiren took her life by walking into the waters of Costa del Sol and never emerging, leaving only her worn lance behind.

So ended one story...while another shall begin.

“Where do you wanna go? How much do you want to risk?” Her smile was dazzling as her eyes shone, still swirling with the aether she'd called upon.

(Some explanation below, with slight spoilers)

Side notes: Her sister was the WoL during the Calamity and who returned during ARR, without her memories of the battle, inadvertently assuming the mantle once more. She fell in love with Foulques, saving him from death and helping him turn his life around. However, he was lost to her during Operation Archon, as he fought alongside the Twin Adders at the cost of his life. This sent her into a dark spiral, leading to her death before the commencement of Heavensward. By some twist of fate, it is Tsukia who ends up bearing her sister's mantle from there on.

Other OCs:

Liena Eryssel

Safianne Sahain

(I will say that, though I do not have much practice in it, I would be open to attempting some RP. I am a beginner at RP compared to writing, but my two Elezen OCs have some leeway that makes it possible. So, I just wanted to put this out here. After all, it might be nice to try new things occasionally.😊💕)