#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!

@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername

@zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100, @waveto-earth, @flyingpansaurus, @silverstarred, @iamapotatoe, @ghosthii, @beloveddroplet, @uchihaeirin, @ibelieveinsleep, @idk098, @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback, @toramune, @haaaaaades, @horologiumwise, @melovaaaa, @alittletiredcry, @aphxdea, @atsukawolfcat, @desirabletravel, @pinkpainc, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @yuyuzi-ling, @hyperfixationwhore

[raayllum]

It gets buried along the way because there's more going on—ensuring that Runaan won't be executed tonight rather than tomorrow morning at the top of the list—and because the Callum she came back to is definitely better at hiding his hurt than the boy she left, but he can't fool her. Not when she saw the hurt happen.

I know you're upset, but Ezran, he was my father too—

Was he? You never even called him Dad!

The way Callum's expression had cracked, crumbled, for just a moment, the glassy quality to his bright green eyes. He'd stormed off in a huff with the last word—You are not executing him, not till morning, if you care about Rayla at all—and when Ezran hadn't been able to look at her, Rayla had followed.

She finds him on the bridge outside, the sun beginning to set and bathing everything in a warm yellow.

"Hey." He's resting his elbows on the side of the bridge as she approaches, his shoulders haunched. She places a hand between his shoulder blades. "Are you..." Obviously not okay. None of them are.

And how could he be, when Ezran had thrown that in his face? They both know how much Callum regretted not calling Harrow was he was; they both know how much he sat in years of uncomfortable security over how much Harrow loved him, and Harrow loved him deeply.

"I'm fine," Callum says shortly. "Ezran is just... we'll have to break Runaan out tonight, somehow, and leave before sunrise."

"Callum—"

"You can use your lockpick skills to get his cuffs undone or to cut whatever rope is binding him, and—"

"Callum." She takes him by the shoulders and forces him to face her. Immediately his head droops, his eyes glassy all over again. "Ezran shouldn't have said that. Harrow knew you loved him. Knew that he was your dad. I promise."

This time Callum crumbles into her, arms tight around her waist while he lets out a few sobs against her shoulder. Rayla holds him steady and runs her fingers through his hair.

She can't imagine how unmoored he feels—his home gone, Ezran acting like the opposite of himself, his own grief about Harrow ripped open all over again. His anchor, his little brother, acting like they aren't brothers at all. Aren't family. Just a king and a high mage who's overstepped his bounds, as Ezran had so cruelly reminded him.

Afterwards, Callum takes her hand when she tries to dissuade him from helping her—you've done enough—both his palms warm in the early autumn chill as her own eyes sting, because she just got Runaan back and without Callum's help her chances of losing him all over again is much higher—I would do anything for you—and she lets him, because that's what you do for family, and she could never hate him for his choices. Not when they're so clearly done out of love, always.

Ezran will see that someday. Ezran will forgive them, and before that, Runaan will continue to live.

[meownotgood]

let us live, if we must die. / chapter four: scarlet wings

You are a witch, and since the purging of all magic, you've been forced to live a life of solitude and secrecy. Your destiny was always beyond your control — until, by a pure twist of fate, you unknowingly fell for the kingdom's only prince. 

════════════════════

pairing: prince!aki x witch!reader

word count: 14.6k

tags: fantasy au, royalty au, reader is fem, some very small mentions of violence, aki is getting better at flirting, way too many metaphors, two idiots who don't realize they're obvious being totally obvious

notes: this chapter is my favorite so far... I hope you'll enjoy it... thank you for your kindness and your patience as always! the next chapter may take a bit because I have some other writing plans for october, but I promise to return again soon :)

masterlist read on ao3 join the taglist here!

════════════════════

soft sky, bleeding sun

I'll cradle your fear until

the clouds make it theirs

—

Growing up in the kingdom taught you to fear the color red.

Red was a staple of the seals worn by the knights and soldiers — the men you needed to be wary of, in order to survive. It symbolizes power, fear, violence. Red served as a reminder of the empire's scarlet, mage-seeking birds, of the crimson blood that would spill after every war, each brutal execution.

The same sort of bird rests in your palms now.

Kneeling, you sit in the center of a clearing, damp dirt and blades of grass tickling your bare knees, the forest's trees whispering in the faint, post-storm breeze. The air is cool and humid; it tickles the back of your neck, making the hair on your arms stand on end. The sky is obscured by a canopy of trees, and by knots of thick, dark clouds. Rain will fall again soon, most likely. You should head home. Yet, you can't seem to move. Your gaze won't tear itself away from the small, red-feathered bird you have held in both your palms.

A scarlet songbird. They're harmless, although quite rare to find in this area. Your books have told you they used to be much more prevalent, native to almost every area with the right weather conditions. Since the kingdom tamed them, they've mostly been captured — sometimes hunted. It's unlikely to find them in a place like this, departed from captivity. To the kingdom, the songbird's affinity for seeking out magical traces is too valuable to let roam free.

A particular book you read on local wildlife noted how the birds like to nab magical items to decorate their nests. They were trained to spot mages for the kingdom's benefit, to follow the traces left by spells and trail them to their source. Normally, they are timid, and try to avoid predators whenever possible. The kingdom turned them into hunters themselves.

Though, in this forest, they are finally free. From danger and captivity, from the kingdom's everlasting grasp. And so are you.

This one has seen better days. The bird's tiny body barely dwarfs one of your palms: a juvenile, most likely. It can't be more than a few months old. Most of its right wing appears to be damaged, with clusters of feathers missing, exposing a deep, fresh injury. Its breathing quickens, causing its body to shake. You brush your thumb over the bird's head, and it coos quietly in response, nuzzling further into your hand.

"What's up? Why are we stopping?"

Aki's voice rouses you from your thoughts, and you glance up to see him curiously peering over your shoulder, leaning down, his hands on his knees.

Aki reminds you of the color blue. Like the sparkle of royal sapphires, with the same sort of gleam reflected in his eyes. Like the colored sketches of the sea you've memorized from your books, and longed to one day see for yourself.

A handful of days ago, he brought you a bundle of bright blue peonies, which he found near the edge of the clearing surrounding your cottage. You placed some into a vase on the dining room table, and took the rest with you to have in your bedroom. Your eyes caught on their vibrant petals each and every time you entered. Since you first met and came to know Aki, you've never noticed so much blue. The blue of the sky, the blue of the river, the blue of butterfly wings and puffy flowers and shimmering stars.

Aki is blue; he's become synonymous with the word. With the blue of veins, instead of the ache that comes with flashes of bright, red blood.

You sigh slightly, glancing away from him, and back to the bird.

"Her wing is busted," You explain simply, clear frustration present in your voice, in the way your brows slightly pinch. "I doubt she'll be able to fly again."

Aki's eyes narrow. "A magehunter bird," He muses, "I didn't know you could find them this far out."

"There's plenty in the forest, they just like to keep themselves hidden," You reply with a shrug, your voice remaining soft and low, to avoid startling the small songbird. "I think they avoid the cottage, mostly. They don't like people."

Your words are a half-truth; before Aki, you'd often spot the birds gathering close to your home. Perching in the trees and sometimes on the roof, singing their little pleasant songs, or pecking at the mushrooms that encircle the clearing, just to flutter away when you got too close. With the addition of your new guest, and with the lack of spells you've been casting lately, they've been reluctant to continue hanging around.

The bird in your palms, however, is completely pliant. She doesn't even attempt to peck at your fingers or flap her injured wing. Her sharp breathing would lead you to believe she's still fearful, but she lacks the energy to fight or run, to do anything but timidly watch you, and hope you aren't a threat to a creature who is already dying.

It makes your heart ache, truly.

Aki examines the sudden strain in your expression. He hums in thought, and he kneels down to sit by your side; the bird shudders, drawing its wings close to its body. Almost as if it's trying to shrink away.

"You're fond of birds, aren't you?" Aki says calmly.

You huff a playful breath, and reply with a lilt of intrigued half-sarcasm, "How could you tell?"

"I kind of guessed, with all those wood sculptures," He answers, taking the question completely seriously. You think back to your living room, to the shelf of wooden birds you've hand-made, and although you're already pre-planning your rebuttal — it was just to pass the time, that's all — Aki seems to see right through you.

"I figured you liked animals, but birds were probably your favorite." He brushes a palm over the back of his neck awkwardly. His hair is up and out of his face, but his bangs still fall in front of his eyes as he tilts his head. "When I saw all those little sculptures, I thought it was… I don't know. Sort of cute."

His compliment makes you freeze up slightly, your face burning with warmth. You should be used to this, considering how open Aki has swiftly become, especially in the past few days. Still, as though it's simply effortless, he always manages to make you feel flustered.

A thin droplet of rain plops onto your arm. You shiver. The air carries the scent of a coming storm; it has your heart feeling heavy, reminding you of the day you first met him. It hasn't stormed like this since then. This time though, you won't have to return to your cottage alone.

Aki glances at you, then to the bird in your palms. "Should we take her with us?"

You know it's unlikely for the bird to survive, even if you brought it home and attempted to nurse it back to health. If it cannot fly, if it can't regain strength and let its wing heal, it'll be doomed.

And what about you? Unless the birds are trained to sniff out mages, they aren't typically a threat, but it could be drawn to the magical items you have hidden in your cabin. Aki must know their purpose better than anyone — he's from the kingdom, after all. It could give you away, if you aren't careful. The logical side of you says you should leave the bird behind, regardless of what your heart might believe.

But since you met Aki, when have you ever done what you should do?

Rising to your feet, you cup one palm over the other to shield the bird from the falling raindrops. Aki follows, standing back up in turn. Your cottage won't take long to return to. The bird's wound will need to be tended to immediately, before you start preparing dinner. It'll be thirsty and hungry. You're sure you can root around and find something to feed it.

It's settled, then.

You're smiling on the way back home, and when Aki asks you why, you tell him it's nothing, instead of admitting the truth — that you find it amusing, to have already picked up another poor thing to nurse back to health. Another him. You can't catch a break, can you?

—

With each passing, precious day, trying not to become too friendly with your new cabin-mate has been steadily becoming more and more difficult. Impossible, even. Honestly, perhaps that plan was always doomed to fail.

Aki is easy to talk to, and conversations between you flow like a river's calm stream — despite your inexperience when it comes to such discussions. Part of you worried things might become awkward after the night he comforted you, but surprisingly, nothing seems to change. Aki doesn't bring it up, nor does he act any differently. It's as though you've been friends for years, not weeks. It's nice, actually.

Your days are spent gathering ingredients and herbs from the forest, leaving early in the morning to avoid crossing paths with any devils. While your nights are spent relaxing, talking, and eating together. He's learned to make plenty of meals with your assistance. Aki swears he'll remember how to prepare them for his next adventures, should he find himself in a forest like this one.

Your greatest hurdle, at first, was getting used to his presence within the magic circle; a constant source of energy, wavering between the sensitive threads of the spell you've learned to constantly maintain.

It felt — he felt — like a persistent coolness on your skin, a knot within you that couldn't be untangled. A rift in your heart, and in your mind. Now, the ripples surging through your spell hardly bother you. They're comforting, even. Aki's presence, formed by the inner shape of his soul's mana, is calm. Deep like the ocean, frozen over like ice.

Aki is tidy, but his corner of the living room quickly begins to flourish with his belongings. His cot is always made neatly, the pillows straightened.

Books are stacked up beside the cot: various stories he's borrowed from your collection, based on your recommendations. His notebook and the jar of ink you prepared for him are set precariously on top of the stack, a bookmark poking out from the pages. Crafted from a thin strip of wood and one of the songbird's stray crimson feathers, you made the bookmark and gifted it to him.

After Aki's wound stopped bothering him — for the most part — he suddenly forgot all of your previous instructions to rest.

He does relax somewhat, when it's at your request. As his health improves, so does his level of energy. He usually stays up reading when he can't sleep — which is often, you've noticed. And as you've come to learn, Aki is a fountain of energy, and he can hardly stand to be cooped up for long.

You blamed it on the elf in him, initially. The points in his ears don't lie.

Truthfully, you haven't interacted with many elves. They were quite a rare sight in the kingdom. They're known to be on the curious side, requiring little amounts of sleep. Either way, they tend to prefer spending as much of their time as they can on their own pursuits. Novels usually paint elves as cold and stern, often taking up leadership positions because of their intelligence and status, but Aki differs from most of those stereotypes. He isn't cold towards you, anyways.

He reminds you more of a playful side, like the nature-loving elves in adventure stories. The sort of person who gets themselves into all sorts of trouble with their unbound knack for adventure.

Recently, Aki has been promising he'll stay still for a while and lie down, but once you return to the cottage, supplies in hand, he's nowhere to be found.

The first time it happened, you panicked. You felt even more anxious when you couldn't find him outside. The darker parts of your mind decided to spin some story where Aki returns with knights to apprehend you, and an army to face you.

Yet each and every time, he'd return alone.

Sometimes covered in dirt, apologizing for his absence as he interrupts your dinner preparations, dropping a palm-full of the songbird's favorite berries on the counter. We were running out, he explains guiltily, glancing away at the sight of your pout. He's already expecting you to scold him. For acting recklessly, for possibly putting himself in danger. It took me a bit to find them. Sorry if I worried you. I won't get lost next time.

In other cases, he'd return much sooner. He's a sweaty mess as he swings open the front door, slightly out of breath. He runs a hand through his hair to push it back. I was exploring, lost track of time, he says, through ragged gasps. I ran home when I realized how late it was. Got some exercise, at least.

You believe him, because why wouldn't you? Aki is kind and polite, perhaps too much so. He has always been honest. About most things, at least. He's charming, in a way. Though, you'd never admit those things to his face. You have a hard enough time admitting them to yourself.

Aki radiates this strong, fiery sense of warmth that perfectly contrasts the sensation of his aura: cool, deep, and still. A glittering sun on the surface, and a somber moon within. It's incredibly, addictively intriguing.

At this point, you've known him longer than anyone, besides your own family. His presence in your cottage has begun to feel natural. And yet, you feel as though you haven't even scratched his surface.

Nevertheless, the days continue to pass — although they definitely feel faster than normal. Your time with your elven, secretly royal guest slips by effortlessly. Most of Aki's depth continues to remain hidden, but your talks together become longer, your moments shared are always treasured.

And between the gaps in your usual routine, you continue caring for the poor scarlet bird.

Turns out, Aki might be more fond of the little thing than you are. It's endearing, to see him frequently check up on her. He helps you out with her care whenever he can.

The two of you prepared a small area for the bird together, creating a makeshift nest near the fireplace with moss, leaves, and the leather scrap that remained of Aki's old bag. You gathered some seeds and berries, and you placed them close, along with a shallow bowl of water. She was lethargic at first, but thankfully, once the sun rose, the bird began to move and eat. Since then, she's been recovering gradually. You've woken up earlier than usual a few times already, roused by the sound of her pleasant chirping.

That's a good sign, at least. Even if she can't fly yet.

Today, you and Aki rarely separated. You spent most of the morning away from the cottage, and most of the afternoon outside, on the outskirts of the clearing. You've been attempting to grow a garden there, and it needs to be tended to. Hopefully, you'll have your own berry bushes once they're in season next year. It'll make gathering them for dishes much simpler. Aki learns the process quickly, and he has no problem helping you pull weeds and treat the soil.

Once the sun finally began to lower, the trees obscuring its fading glow, the sky hued in bright shades of orange, you both headed back inside, and followed the same routine you've built up over the past few days.

You sit near the fireplace, Aki close beside you. The both of you enjoy the fire's steady, flickering warmth. Today was hot, but the night has grown cold. Dinner was simple to prepare, as was the process of cleaning up, especially with Aki's help. You watch the bird take careful breaths as it draws its wings close, settles into its nest, and closes its eyes.

Cross-legged, you rest your elbows on your knees, and your chin in your hands. Aki leans back, getting comfortable; he glances between you and the fire, the same way he does when he obviously has something to say. Firelight frames his face warmly, his handsome features lit in bright hues, his long, dark hair gently brushing his shoulders.

You'll speak first, if he won't.

"How are you liking the book I lent you?" You're inquiring, your head tilting slightly with your question.

Aki raises a brow. He brings his glass to his lips, and takes a sip of the cherry-red homemade wine. It's more like juice, really. The combination of berries make it sweet and refreshing. Considering the limited resources you have in the forest, it's one of your most impressive recipes.

He sets his glass back down on the floor when he's finished, right next to yours.

"It's good," Aki replies simply, his tone completely earnest. "I'm about halfway through."

Recently, he's been reading one of the many books you recommended to him, usually making progress after you've gone to bed, when he can't sleep. You specifically chose something you thought he would like: an adventure book, about a traveler following his father's old treasure map. The story is carefree and whimsical. You'd hoped Aki might sleep if he read a book before bed, but when he gets terribly engrossed, it just seems to keep him up for even longer.

He reminds you of yourself.

"Are you at the part where he gets to the waterfall?" You ask, recalling the last time you read that particular novel. You've read everything in your collection hundreds of times, but it's been a few months.

"With the sirens?" Aki answers, placing his hands in his lap.

"Yeah," You hum, a stupid grin tugging at your cheeks. Your gaze sparkles, and you hardly attempt to keep it at bay. "With the sirens."

You aren't sure what makes you happier. The fact that Aki is genuinely reading and enjoying the book you chose, knowing he's currently reaching one of your favorite parts in the story, or the pleasant spark you get in your chest when you imagine talking about it with him once he's finished, finally being able to share something you love.

All of those feelings are lovely enough to keep, but nothing compares to the warmth you're drowned in as Aki flashes you a quick, gentle smile.

"You better not spoil what happens," He murmurs through a small laugh, "You've gotten me invested."

"I would never, I promise." You raise your hands in the air innocently. Dammit, his smile is so contagious. "We probably shouldn't talk about it until you're done, just in case. You've gotta finish all of it. The ending is the best part, for sure."

"What about your book?" Aki asks; his gaze stays on you, as he watches you take a quick sip of your wine. "Have you finished it yet?"

You swirl the contents of your glass. "The Holy Knight? Yeah, I finished it yesterday."

"Did you like it? Or, I suppose you said you've already read it, right?" Aki corrects. "How does it compare to the last time you read it?"

Thinking to yourself, you breathe a soft hmm, and tap your index finger idly against your cheek.

"It was good. I mean, I enjoy the whole story no matter how many times I've read it. The ending always makes me tear up."

You recall the final chapter, the book's somber ending. At the very end, the knight saves the land, and as the curse is lifted, flowers and trees finally begin to grow. He inherits the kingdom, he is surrounded by wealth and beauty. But even after becoming king and marrying his love, he isn't satisfied with his accomplishments. In one final battle, the knight sacrifices himself to save the princess. He departs from her with an embrace, and then kisses her hand, her cheek, and finally…

Aki's smooth voice breaks you out of your haze. "My brother owned that one. I've read parts of it to him before, countless times. Though I can't remember if we ever wound up finishing it."

"Maybe that's for the best. It's kind of a sad ending."

You shrug, your gaze drifting away from him, and back towards the fireplace, flames flickering and wavering. The small scarlet bird rests in her nest. She appears to be sleeping, her eyes closed and her head tucked close to her patchy wing. You adjust your position, sitting with your knees drawn up, your arms around them. The living room smells like the fireplace's crisp ashes, mixed with the lingering sweet scent of crushed berries and juice.

For some odd reason — or perhaps there isn't one — you change the subject to abruptly state, "The knight in that story. He reminds me of you."

Aki's eyes grow slightly wider. Then, he lets go of an amused huff, he points to himself with his thumb; "Me? Honestly, I haven't read that story in a long time. I think you'll have to explain."

He's glancing at you now, back straightened, pointed ears slightly perked up.

"Uhm, it's like-" You shake your head, trying not to stutter. "It's just with how he is around the princess, you know? You remember the scene where Vincent meets Edith, right? Before she gets captured?"

Aki's brows furrow, as though he's trying to remember. "Vaguely."

"Where Edith says she hates him, and swears they'll never marry, even if the entire kingdom was at stake. But Vincent vows he'll win her heart?"

"Ah. Well-" Reaching for his drink, Aki tilts his head back to take a good long sip. His warm, confident gaze meets yours. "I don't think I've won anything yet."

When you promptly elbow him, he offers you a slight, almost nervous grin. Thankfully, he gives your heart a bit of reprieve, glancing away to carefully set his drink back down.

"Not like that," You're scoffing, shuffling with embarrassment. You drop your knees to place your hands in your lap and fiddle with your thumbs. "It was just… with how he's so nice to her, and then their dialogue changes so much as they grow closer-" You shake your head. "Ugh. Nevermind."

"No, no. I'm listening." Aki peers at you, apologetic. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't tease you. I understand what you mean. We are similar."

Too similar. You're starting to wish you hadn't spoken, or even made the connection, because you can no longer stop yourself from picturing the novel's scenes with you in place of the princess — and of course, with Aki in place of the knight.

You imagine Aki hugging you close, his strong, safe arms around you, before he pulls back to kiss your hand, soft lips delicately brushing your knuckles. You think of Aki sweeping you into his arms to carry you away from danger. Aki reassuring you on late nights spent in one another's bed chambers that he wouldn't leave you, not even if the world deemed it so. Aki offering you his sword, so you can tap it to his shoulder as he says his vows, those pretty blue eyes on yours, his smooth voice echoing through your dizzy thoughts.

Miss Edith, I do swear for as long as I draw breath to never allow my fealty to waver. I do swear to offer my life for yours, and my heart for you to bear. If I am to fall, you will be my final thought, as you are my first and last dream before sleep, my love.

You've memorized so many lines from that damn book, and paired with how vividly you can picture Aki's voice, your mind is practically whirling.

You shake your head firmly, and give your flushed cheeks a couple light slaps. Aki cocks a brow, and casually leans closer as he glances at you, hoping to catch your eyes once more.

"Are you alright?" He murmurs, his soft tone not-so different from the one you were imagining, "Don't force yourself to stay awake if you're getting tired."

"Oh," You blink, and try your best to meet his gaze without looking away. Without picturing one of your favorite scenes from the book, a moment not too different from this one. The knight and the princess are in her quarters, sipping wine from fancy goblets. Suddenly, the princess suggests she's been hiding her true feelings all along, she believes she's fallen for him, and then —

"Yeah, I'm a bit tired," You mutter, clearing your throat. The fireplace is suddenly interesting enough to catch your eyes and keep them there.

Aki waits a moment, before he gathers both of your nearly-empty glasses, and reaches forward to set them on the edge of the fireplace, placing them out of the way.

All of those moments, those scenes, those dreams, often felt as though they'd be impossible. They are just fiction. Books to get drawn into, to take you somewhere far away from here, and nothing more. Because in your heart, you know those stories were never written with you in mind. Magic and mages would often be portrayed as what people thought of them — as the evil force the heroes needed to combat, as the villians that were meant to be vanquished. You accepted them for what they were, and accepted your loneliness. You had no other choice.

Perhaps you should start dreaming again. Perhaps this new dream, the one Aki has begun to lead you into, will pave a path to a warm, blossoming future. As long as you are willing to finally let yourself trust.

"You should get some rest," Aki encourages, his tone kept low. He gestures to the bird with a flicker of his gaze and a tilt of his head. "I'll keep an eye on her."

As if led by his instruction, you promptly stretch your arms up, and struggle to form an answer through a long yawn. "Alright."

Aki awkwardly rolls his shoulders back. He gnaws on his bottom lip, and avoids meeting your eyes as he rubs the tension from his own hands, squeezing his palms, flexing his fingers.

"There was… something I wanted to do," He begins, "But I wasn't sure if I should propose it."

"Huh?" You question, "Why?"

"I thought it might upset you."

Knowing Aki, it surely wouldn't. You don't hesitate, and barely fault your budding curiosity.

"Show me. And if I don't like it, I'll tell you." Your gaze on his is sure, unwavering. You reflect sparks of fierce firelight. "I'm okay with giving anything a chance, as long as it's with you."

Aki looks away, swallowing. He seems nervous, in a certain endearing way, in a way you're sure you haven't seen from him yet; he shifts uncomfortably, his palms already sweaty. Finally, he sighs, and forces himself to not only meet your eyes, but to get the words out.

"Do you remember this one scene from the middle of The Holy Knight? When they're-" He cringes, his teeth gritting. "Riding in the back of a carriage?"

Vincent and Edith had just finished tending to affairs at a fancy dinner party. The chapter leaves out most of the details, but describes them as they traveled back to the castle. They sat together in a fancy horse-drawn carriage, and as Edith's weary eyes began to droop, Vincent guided her to rest against his shoulder.

Oh. You don't answer, but you're sure you've made your realization obvious by the look on your face.

You watch him curiously as Aki takes a deep, motivating breath. He doesn't meet your eyes, but he does begin to shift a bit closer. He ever-so slowly and ever-so tentatively places his arm around you, barely touching. You follow the rest of the way, as he guides you to carefully lean your head against his shoulder.

It's stiff, a bit cumbersome. Your cheek doesn't quite rest perfectly on the bony, hard edge of his shoulder. You have to lean over a bit too much for this to be truly comfortable, and Aki is surely sitting way too straight, clearly still awkward.

But honestly, it's perfect. It's authentic, it's warm — and when you steal a glance up at him, his pretty expression makes it all worth it. Aki is smiling. He's flustered, perhaps more than you. You doubt the light from the fireplace is all that's flushing his skin in shades of red and pink.

You smirk, and nuzzle further into his shoulder, finally closing your eyes.

"Awfully bold of you," You're murmuring in a tired tone, trying your best to mimic the fancy cadence of the princess' line from the novel.

Aki shrugs. "It's probably the wine."

It isn't, it's fruit juice you've been calling wine, but your fuzzy thoughts begin to fade away as the fire warms you, and as Aki's faint touch comforts you — his arm around you, his palm brushing from your shoulder to your back — guiding your mind to drift off into a quiet, gentle slumber.

—

When the night sky meets the trees, the moon illuminating the clearing's whispering blades of grass, and the stars shimmering with their own faint promises, you find your favorite space to be alone.

It's been a few weeks since Aki first began staying with you, and a few days since you first took the bird in. Tonight, the foggy air that settles on your skin is cool and crisp. The forest is calm and quiet, save for the sounds of rustling trees and cooing cicadas. You sit in the clearing just in front of your cottage, cross-legged, gazing up at the brilliant canopy illuminating the surrounding darkness.

This was your usual routine, before Aki. You would spend each night looking up at the stars, when it was far too late for anything to disturb you. The night often gave you peace. It allowed you to think. When it was just you and the crickets and the wind, and the smell of the dirt and the trees, you felt as though you could finally breathe.

Inhaling slowly, and then exhaling carefully, you let the night's cool air fill your lungs. Wind brushes across you ever-so faintly. At first, while Aki was resting, you took every opportunity, slipping away to enjoy this whenever you could. When your mind was racing and you just couldn't sleep, the lonesome silence helped to calm your worries. This time, it isn't helping much.

Your mind has been a mess all day today, and the day before that. Perhaps it has never truly untangled. All the usual worries you've had about Aki and the kingdom and the future have been piling up, filling your head with no way to discard them. Quietness helps you think, but you don't want to think; you've been lost in your thoughts for way too long.

Nothing works. It's a lost cause, clearly. You sigh to yourself.

The best you can do is try to relax out here for a while, underneath the pale moon, and hope your mind eventually tires itself out enough to let you sleep.

Though, the night has other plans for you.

The cottage door opens from behind you with a wooden creak, and you swiftly turn around. Aki carefully closes the door behind him. He gives you a soft, acknowledging smile when your eyes meet, before he walks down the stairs of the front porch, and comes to sit beside you. He matches you, crossing his legs; faint breaths of wind rustle his crisp white tunic and flutter through the long, dark strands of his hair.

"I'm not interrupting, am I?" Aki asks smoothly, and you quickly shake your head.

"No, no. It's fine. You can stay." Your gaze travels back to the glittering stars, as they watch over the both of you with distant admiration. "I'd like it if you stayed, actually."

So, Aki does.

He folds his hands in his lap, and falls into silence alongside you. Once again, you are no longer alone. He stays while you stare absently at the moon and the sky, continuing to think to yourself. He stays when the night seems to grow colder, the breeze nipping at your arms and the back of your neck, your eyes heavy, while your heart keeps thudding in your chest.

Finally, you let go of a small sigh in frustration. It doesn't go unnoticed; Aki's gaze flickers back to you. In the corner of your vision, you can see him eyeing you up and down, carefully considering, calmly examining.

"Are you alright?" He asks, far too gently. "It's pretty late for you to still be awake."

You shake your head. You glance down, focused on your hands and the shadowy blades of grass tickling your knees. "I can't sleep."

"Why's that? Are you cold?" Aki's brow raises as he notes your small shivers. "I can move, if you want to be by the fireplace. I'll sleep on the floor or something."

"I'm not that cold." You rub your goosebump-filled arms with your palms, somewhat contradicting your words. "I've just been thinking. Thinking too much, probably. That's all."

Aki quiets. He runs a hand through his hair to push it from his face, he idly taps his finger against his knee.

Suddenly, thinking becomes so much more difficult. It always is, whenever he's around. Yet, this is a welcome change. The night feels warmer with him near. His presence alone helps your mind find its footing. You can breathe, but you didn't need the night to teach you — you just needed him.

Foolish, isn't it?

A few moments tick by. Your thoughts drift to lighter subjects. Dreams and soft hopes. He waits for you to speak, never pressing, never pulling. And so, you do.

"I've always liked how bright the stars are out here," You murmur, almost talking to yourself, with your gaze still caught on the sparkling array in the sky. "They shine brighter where the forest is darkest. Almost like they know there's someone out there who might need them to light their way home."

On your first night alone, when you escaped from the kingdom, when you ran as deep into the forest as your tired legs could take you, with only some books in your pack and a demon-warding amulet around your neck, the stars were there. They lit your path through the trees and into the clearing. Hundreds upon thousands of steady glowing lights watched over you when you collapsed, and they made sure to look after your rest until morning.

Aki listens intently. He looks only at you. When you're content like this, staring at the sky, your pretty gaze seems to sparkle, too.

"They're gorgeous. It gets harder to see them the closer you get to the city," He says. "In the kingdom, we have this phrase about stars. It's quite famous. I'm pretty sure some poet came up with it a thousand odd years ago, and now people use it in stories and plays and such."

You turn towards him. "And that phrase is?"

"Per aspera ad astra." Aki pronounces each syllable perfectly and purposely, with a certain sense of wonder. "It means, 'through thorns, look to the stars.' But phrases in old tongue can honestly be interpreted in a thousand different ways."

"The stars will never stop watching over us, even through hardships." You give your own interpretation, while admiring those very same stars. "What a beautiful phrase."

He smiles. "Yeah. I thought you would like it."

Those stars and this moon watched over your family ages ago. They foresaw the very first mages, they looked upon their devastating downfall. No matter what future they might hold for you, their presence above your head will never change, they'll never waver.

They've been watching Aki, too. When you were younger, young enough to gaze up at the sky and dream of a brighter future, where was he? Learning to fight the devils you'd soon have to run from, pacing the halls of the castle you dreamt of visiting?

You take another deep, grounding breath, taking in the crisp night air, and you draw your knees up, getting more comfortable. Glancing at Aki, you see him intently looking at the sky, this time. For once, he isn't staring at you.

"Could you tell me another?"

Aki glances towards you with a hint of surprise. "Another phrase?"

You nod. "I didn't know the kingdom still spoke in old tongue. It's interesting."

Aki hums, considering. He holds his chin, his brows pinching as he thinks. Eventually, he continues, allowing you to hear his smooth voice once more — just as you wanted.

"Okay… let's see. Fortis fortuna adiuvat. 'Fortune favors the bold.' All the knights in training have to learn that one." He smirks, his eyes rolling slightly. The kingdom's chivalry must fail to impress him. "Devil hunters prefer morior invictus. Death over defeat."

"I think I've heard the first one." You pause to dwell on his words, before you turn back to him, eagerly questioning, "And what about the kingdom? Could you tell me more about it?"

Aki pauses. He breathes a small laugh. "I'm… not sure what you mean. What did you want to know? Just…" He shrugs. "Anything?"

"Yeah. Can you tell me what it's like?"

For a moment, he hesitates. He takes a deep, thoughtful breath. A soft, clearly excited smile forms on his features. He gazes at you like you're sparkling more than the sky.

"Well, I- I thought you might like the kingdom's gardens," He explains, a bit awkward and stuttery at first. "The castle's garden, especially. The front entrance is surrounded by huge weeping willow trees. Each path is decorated with every bright color of flower you can imagine. They flourish in the spring, and in autumn, the trees turn the richest gold hue. There's rose bushes, daffodils, tulips, orchids. Orchids are your favorite, aren't they?"

When you brought home a bundle of orchids, he watched as you carefully trimmed their stems to place them in a vase on the dining room table, and he listened as you explained how you've always found them beautiful. They're a symbol of elegance and grace, a common motif in your favorite poetry books. You've always admired them. Aki promised he'd remember.

You nod shyly. "That's right."

Aki smiles. He places his hands in his lap, slightly fiddling with his thumbs. The moon and stars form a bright halo above him, glittering down onto both of you. "I'm sure you'd find orchids in every shade. Or if you wanted some for yourself, I could buy them for you. Ah, you'd like walking through the town square, too. There's lots of flower vendors."

"Flower vendors?" You're scoffing, donning a grin of disbelief, "People are spending gold on flowers when there's thousands they could pick without emptying their pockets?"

"Well, they're usually selling flowers you can only get in certain regions. They grow them themselves," Aki explains matter-of-factly. "Besides, it's tradition. You're supposed to buy flowers as gifts. For your loved ones or your family or your partner. Something like that."

You try to ponder the implications, your mind and your heart stuck on his specific choice of words; your partner. Does Aki have a spouse? Perhaps there's someone he's already interested in. He's royalty, surely he has admirers. Or maybe, just maybe, offering to buy flowers for you meant something more — but Aki stands, pushing himself up and rising to his feet, instantly halting your surging train of thought.

"Wait-" You glance up at him swiftly. "You're leaving?"

"Only for a moment," He answers. Your expression softens. The rush of relief that fills you must be palpable.

Aki gestures towards the cottage. "I was going to get a blanket for us. Unless you'd prefer to go back inside?"

"Oh. No," You murmur in response, shaking your head. "No, it's fine."

He isn't gone for long. Aki brings one of the blankets he was using for his makeshift bed: a large, handmade quilt, messily sewn from different patches of fabric. Delightful warmth fills your body as he drapes the blanket around you, but for good measure, he shifts closer. Close enough to let the both of you share the blanket, close enough to have your legs brush and your shoulder press to his.

And as the night stretches on, Aki tells you about the kingdom. He details everything you would want to know, he provides illustrations for all of the fantasies you have wondered and dreamt about — the luxuries you wished you could afford. He makes all of them seem real.

It's late. You need to sleep, you know you'll be exhausted by the time tomorrow comes, and you're sure he knows this too. But you stay as you are. You don't want this moment to end.

For as long as the night allows, you live through what he shares with you, as though this life were different, and you were much more fortunate. Honestly, you are more fortunate than you've ever been to have this, to have him.

Aki describes the kingdom's beauty to you. Cobblestone pathways, ornate churches, bridges that overlook the entire city. The castle is placed upon a hill; you can spot its grandeur from miles away. A river runs through the city, providing canoes you can take, pooling into a beautiful sea with an abundance of fish to catch. The streets are always busy. There's merchants and performers, vendors and dancers. Nightly parties and fancy outings, and a life you could only ever dream of.

If Aki offered to take you, to show you, to give you such a life, you can't quite decide how you'd answer.

At some point, the descriptions he's painting for you blend together. The bustling depictions of the ferry port jumble with his explanation of the town's most famous grand library. Your head slips to his shoulder, and you're fading away. You can't remember the last thing you heard before you fell asleep.

Briefly, you wake up while Aki is carrying you inside, but you drift off once again the moment he places you into your bed, drawing the warm, comfy covers over you, and quietly closing your bedroom door behind him.

—

Days pass. Nights spent looking upon the stars together become more frequent.

After a while in your care, the injured scarlet songbird begins to show some positive signs. She's been leaving her bed on her own to hop around the living room, or to perch on the end of Aki's cot. Although her wing still seems weak, she's been trying to flap it, stretching and waving both wings in the air at every opportunity.

An excited Aki drags you into the cottage a few days later. You were in the clearing, tending to the garden, but you follow along when he begins tugging you by your arm.

The songbird flutters around the room, floating freely from the edge of the fireplace, to the kitchen counter, to the top of a sculpture-filled bookshelf.

Look, Aki says, exuberant. She's flying.

—

The flickering fire in front of you radiates steady, calming warmth. As you carefully tilt the small chunk of wood in your hands, your sleeves rolled up, a blanket in your lap to catch all the shavings, you can no longer feel the chill of the night.

An almost-full moon watches over your technique. Your eyes narrow in focus. Your thumb presses to the blunt side of your blade.

You've been working on this sculpture for a few days now; you have to be careful, you wouldn't want to make a mistake when you're so close to adding the finishing touches. This sculpture has to be perfect. After all, getting the chance to study a scarlet songbird up close is hardly an everyday occurrence.

Slowly and meticulously, you refine the head of the sculpture, smoothing out the bumps in the circular shape. The end of the head is spiked slightly, to form the shape of thin feathers. You've recently learned from your hours of study that songbirds have large, thick beaks, perfect for cracking open the shells of seeds. You curve your knife, and refine the simple shape of the beak into a dull, triangular point.

Aki sits across from you, one leg crossed over the other. The both of you have already finished dinner, and you now rest in the middle of the clearing, in front of the fire, sitting on some large fallen logs you dragged in from the forest. His hair remains the way it was this morning: tied back to keep stray strands out of his face. He leans backward, head tilted up as he gazes silently at the glittering sea of stars.

Normally, you would join him. You'd set your sculpture down to complete later, and you'd come to sit beside him, so the two of you could count the constellations together. But tonight, your mind is elsewhere. You're focused on the pounding of your heart and the movement of your hands, because tonight, Aki finally won.

There's a game the two of you have been playing, ever since the nights have begun to grow warmer.

To your surprise, when you brought up the idea, you learned Aki has never caught fireflies before. He's hardly ever seen them, he explains, outside of a handful of times when he was a kid.

They're useful to light up the kitchen, so you can clean up after taking your time at dinner. Most of the time though, you'll catch them in your palms, you'll place them into jars and admire the performance of their synchronized glow, just to watch them all fill the sky once you set them free. You showed Aki how he could catch them, his own hands mimicking the cupped shape of yours. And now, each night, you've been playfully competing to see who can catch more.

At first, it was to decide who would wash the plates and pans. When a few days went by with no success, Aki decided to raise the stakes. If he wins, he gets to ask you three questions, and you have to promise to answer.

You were confused. Perhaps even the slightest bit shocked. You silently mulled over his proposal as the two of you washed dishes together, a jar filled with ten busy fireflies on your side, and a jar holding just two of them on his side — both fireflies conversing, gently flickering their bulbs.

I won't ask anything too personal, I promise. And if I ever did, you wouldn't have to answer, Aki explained. His expression was soft and reassuring as he glanced up at you, while scrubbing some silverware with a worn-down rag. I feel I don't know much about you, is all. And I'd like to.

You aren't used to someone wanting to learn more about you, nor would you know precisely what you should tell them. What if you wind up saying too much? Or perhaps, you would only be able to tell him far too little?

No matter how foolish, some part of you believes it wants to tell him.

In all honesty, you weren't expecting much to come out of the deal you just agreed to. You believe him; Aki wouldn't ask anything out of the ordinary, he wouldn't press you, or put you in a situation you can't get out of. He also happens to be particularly awful at catching fireflies. He's never caught more than you, and with his lack of experience, you wouldn't expect him to — until tonight, of course.

Once you lit the firewood and a fire began to spark, you both sat down to compare how many you collected. You counted, and as the fireflies fluttered around, you recounted. Aki counted them as well before you set them free, just in case you were mistaken. He met your gaze with a sure, satisfied smile.

He caught one more than you.

Now, here you are. You wouldn't call this feeling worry. As you sit by the fire, busying yourself with your diligent work on your wood carving, your heart comes alive — with warmth that burns the chassis of your chest from the inside. You swear your fear has been swallowed by the flames, because this feeling is more like excitement, unwavering and true.

You have never revealed what lies beneath your surface, not ever before. Not to anyone but the starlight.

Gods, how you have waited for this.

"So," You begin, breaking the silence first. You drag your attention away from your wood carving, glancing up at Aki with an eyebrow raised, "What would you like to know?"

Aki finally looks away from the sky, and you try not to falter when his deep gaze meets yours. He flashes you a small smile. Then, he breathes a soft, obvious hmm, as if he's pretending you'd caught him off guard.

"Your name would be a good place to start."

Ah. After all this time, you still haven't told him. You consider the possibilities, nervously running your thumb over the grooved shape of the sculpture's unfinished wing. Your family name would be dangerous for him to know, of course. In any other circumstance, you'd consider giving him something fake, or possibly your middle name, since it'd be more difficult to trace. But this time, your first name is fine. If it's Aki who knows it, you have nothing to fear.

So, you answer. Aki grins, lacing his delicate, scarred hands together, and resting his elbows on his knees.

One question down, two more to go.

"A very pretty name. It suits you," He muses, in a tone smooth enough to make you shudder. His words feel like thick liquid gold, tingling in your veins and dripping down your back. "You already know mine. But perhaps there's something else you'd like to know about me?"

"I- I mean, maybe," You reply, trying and failing not to stutter. There's plenty of things you've been wanting to know, but nearly all of them you couldn't just say. You can't suddenly blurt out, Are you really royalty? as casually as he just asked for your name. "But I thought you were the one asking the questions. Not me."

"It'd be fair to let you ask some too. Right?"

Your fingers drum idly against the hilt of your knife.

"Okay, uhm…" You glance him up and down, trying to come up with something. Your gaze catches on the pointed ears sticking out from his hair; "You're an elf, aren't you? Is your family from the kingdom? I heard there weren't many elves there."

That was two questions in one, but Aki doesn't seem to mind.

"Half-elf," He corrects. The firelight dances in his eyes, forming fuzzy warmth in the edges of your vision. "My mother was an elf, and my father was human. My brother and I were both born and raised in the kingdom, as was my father. But my mother was considered an outsider. She left her village when she was twenty."

Was. Your eyes widen. Although you already had your hints and suspicions, you can't help but note his specific choice of words. Still, your gaze drifts back down to your sculpture. You glide your knife forwards to thin out the delicate shape of the long tail feathers, and you move along without mentioning it.

"Ah," You reply, nodding, "Sorry. You're a half-elf."

Aki cocks a brow. "You seem surprised."

Half-elves aren't exactly common, considering the tension that can still linger between both parties. Elves have always been known for discovering magic; their magic lineage leads some to distrust them. They're often blamed for past troubles. Humans are the ones revered for stopping them. A half-elf would surely face judgment from both sides.

You know what that feeling is like. Has Aki also felt like an outcast, did part of him gnaw from within, promising he would never find somewhere he truly belonged?

"I thought half-elves were a rarity," You reply quietly, "But I don't know, maybe I'm wrong." You give a heavy shrug of your shoulders. "It's been a while since I left the cottage."

If only he knew.

"That's alright," Aki answers calmly, folding his hands and placing them in his lap. "Half-elves are uncommon, but in recent times, not so much. The, uh," He clears his throat rather abruptly. "The old king and queen set a new precedent, I suppose."

You squint as his gaze meets yours, matching his coyness with curiosity and confusion.

The old king and queen. An elf and a human ruling together was unheard of, at the time.

Unfortunately, your memories of the kingdom are vague. When you were much, much younger, you heard many stories about the famous king and queen, your mother's embellished retellings filling your mind each night before bed. A few weeks before you fled the kingdom, you learned of their passing. The details weren't revealed to the public, you'd imagine. You suppose you were too young to know what was true and what was just a tale.

Before you can ask anything else, Aki is continuing, as he nervously drums a hand against his knee.

"A lot has changed in such a short time. Elves have always been welcome in the kingdom, but it's rare for people to judge them these days. The king and queen were very well remembered."

Then, he breathes a short laugh. He points to his ears, his star-shaped earrings sparkling when they catch the flames of the fire. "In some other places though, these ears have gotten me into an awful lot of trouble."

This, in fact, does not surprise you.

Your eyes roll playfully. Setting down your sculpture and your knife in favor of resting your chin in your hand, you shoot Aki a teasing glance. "Really? What kind of trouble?"

"Mmm, you know. The typical sentiments. Lots and lots of dirty looks. Whispers about magic and mages and the like. Most half-elves have smaller ears, but you can't exactly hide these." Aki taps his pointed ear, making his earring rustle. "I owe you many things- my life, for one. But I'm grateful you've never judged me, even when you saw what I was."

You shake your head and scoff, your jaw tightening, "Come on, you don't owe me anything. You needed help, that's all. So I provided."

You've told those words to yourself at least a thousand times. Oh, but it's so much more than that now, isn't it?

Aki sighs. "Gods, you're sweet, you know that?" He smiles, his gaze sparkling with saccharine sweetness. "You could have turned me away, you could have easily kept me at arm's length. But when I'm with you, I never feel anything less than welcomed."

Your heart stirs, thudding within your chest like a performer's drum, fluttering like the flap of a bird's wings, and warming your face until it feels hotter than the flames of the fire.

"Stop, you're just…" You rub your arm shyly while you glance down at your boots. "You're only saying that."

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," Aki answers softly. "There's good in you, more than most I've met these days."

Good? When was the last time anyone thought of you as good? Mages have never been regarded with anything but contempt, and you have embodied that fact for so, so long. It's become who you are. You have defined yourself as a witch, you've embodied the terrible things you've heard people say and do. You aren't allowed to be anything more than that. Your life isn't worth anything more.

Aki makes you think differently. He's reminded you of what you thought you couldn't have, he's made you think that you can be you — clipped wings soft, and outstretched.

You glance down once more at the sculpture. You hold it in your palms, and run your thumb over the details: the pointed beak, the smooth body, the small feet. Carefully, you take hold of your knife. Your eyes narrow as you guide the blade, adding faint notches to the bird's thin talons.

You sigh to yourself, your brows knotted in focus. "I'm sure not everyone you've met is terrible."

"You'd be surprised. A lot of towns are still pretty intolerant towards elves. Towards mages, in specific. Even if I explained I was there to help them, to fight devils for them, sometimes they'd simply refuse to listen." Aki huffs in frustration, leaning forwards, rubbing the tension from the joints in his fingers. "I felt lucky whenever they denied me entry. At least then, I wouldn't have to deal with them."

You can definitely sympathize. Quietly, you reply, "That sounds… unfair."

"It was. My mother often tried to rationalize it. 'Those people are afraid, Aki. They don't want to be hurt again.'"

His shoulders slump when he lets go of a weighty, built-up breath. His gaze has found itself drifting, first focused on the fire, and now stuck on his hands. "I understood that. I've known since I was young. It's just… you know." A choked bite finds its way into his tone. "Frustrating."

Frustrating is a light way to put it. You certainly, undoubtedly know. Aki doesn't realize how acquainted you are with that very same feeling of hopelessness.

He pauses, brows furrowed as he thinks, and you set your knife aside. Your fingers return to trace the curves of the nearly-complete sculpture.

When Aki speaks next, he's glancing back up at you. "Could I ask about your family? Or… is that…"

He trails off, but you know precisely where he's headed. It isn't too much, not if he's the one listening. You shake your head, glancing between him and your hands.

"No, it's alright," You reply, your voice weaker than intended. "There just isn't much to say. They've both been gone for… Gods, ages now. I wasn't as close with my father, but my mother was very important to me. Losing her was difficult."

Sadness lingers in your tone, along with something anxious, something uncertain. Aki watches your hands, fiddling uneasily with the small wood carving.

Like a quiet eclipse, there's meaning behind your words, a gentleness you prosper when you give Aki a knowing, pained glance. You know the pain he's felt. You've shared it once, perhaps without realizing.

When he speaks, his voice helps to ground you.

"I'm sorry. I understand. My mother and father are gone. I lost my younger brother with them. It's a terrible feeling."

You breathe deeply, steadying yourself.

No one knows about your family. You rarely even think about what happened, you prefer to move on rather than dig up old wounds; it's what you needed to do to survive. And yet, in the face of Aki's soft expression, his calm gaze meeting yours, the words seem to spill out before you can stop them — your breath catching, your hands clenching the sculpture tight.

"I lost them. And when I did, I… I lost everything," You're murmuring, your shoulders tense as you try not to shrink in on yourself. "I was alone for the longest time. I felt… afraid."

Aki's leg bounces. For a moment, as you glance up at him quickly, before avoiding his eyes to look down again, you think he might stand up. You wouldn't mind if he came to sit next to you. Against your better judgment, you might find yourself pulling him closer, latching onto his arm or dragging him into an embrace just to savor the way your heart would skip. Instead, he forces himself to still, his hands folded and his knuckles locked.

You sigh, and continue before he has a chance to speak. "Sorry. It's difficult to… to put everything into words. I'm not used to this. I haven't really… talked about it before. Not until now."

Aki glances you up and down, noting the discomfort in your posture. He swallows, and he leans back.

"Don't apologize," He says, his tone soft. "You're doing just fine. You don't have to speak if you don't want to."

As your reassured gaze catches on his own, he brushes a palm over the back of his neck, and hurries to fill the air with something other than the crackle of the fire and the chirp of crickets.

"My dad and I- my mother always said we were the same," He begins. The fire's flames wash over his face in faint orange hues. "Stubborn. Fearless. He was an adventurer when he was my age. The kind of man that never wanted to be stuck in one place. But when he married, he finally settled down. He was… a well-respected man. Many people disapproved of him marrying an elf."

You stay frozen in place, your eyes softening at the sound of his voice. He takes a deep breath, laughing a bit.

"You know, when I was young, I was one of those kids that never stopped to think before they spoke. Ardentis is what my mother used to say. It means… filled with fire. Impulsive. When I was ten, I asked my father why he would ever marry my mother, if it made things so difficult. Thank the Gods I said it when we were out on our own, visiting another province. I can't imagine how they would've scolded me if I said it in public."

Filled with fire. Aki always burns bright, but the outline of his soul — floating and flickering within your magic — feels cold, in comparison. Like pressing your palm to the smooth surface of a frozen lake. Like falling through to drown in deep, cool waters.

Aki can't look at you. "My father answered, when you love someone, you'll find a way to bend the world to fit their shape." He pauses. He clears his throat, his shoulders slack; he glances up at you, finally. "It was one of the last things I remember him telling me, so I guess it always stuck."

You listen in silence. Everything converges and stops, your entire world pinpointed on this singular moment. The songbird sculpture rests in your hands, your grip tightening, although your gaze is unable to tear away from his. The fire crackles gently, the wind brushes your skin like a kiss.

Leaning back, Aki crosses one leg over the other. "I'm onto my third question now. Right?"

"Yeah. Right."

And what of the shape of your own soul? Would his fit with yours? Would they press together like the softness of hands interlocked, or like the sting of a knife to your throat?

Aki flashes you a warm smile. "Which do you prefer? Sunrise, or sunset?"

—

Sunset was your answer.

You adore the beautiful hues the sun paints across the sky, dying light shining through the trees in desperate rays, only for everything to fade into the alluring darkness of the night. Sunsets mark new beginnings, before the sunrise returns to embrace them. Both are beautiful — and to be honest, you weren't sure which you preferred.

When Aki asked you that night, you put little thought into your answer. You've always had an appreciation for both, but you've never thought of picking a favorite. You pondered it for a moment, before simply choosing one, like flipping a coin, like relying on a hunch. Sunsets are your favorite.

The night was stretching on for a bit too long, and since the two of you still needed to get some sleep, you left it at that. Aki thanked you. He gave you a simple, you'll see, when you questioned where he might be going with this. You yawned, watching the fire flicker weakly, and decided it'd be best to call the night there.

You slept peacefully and dreamlessly. Busy with the chores of the coming day, you nearly forgot about the conversation and the night you shared — until Aki returned to surprise you.

He'd been out for a while. You had some cleaning to do around the cottage that day, and so he promised to tend to the garden while you finished everything you needed to. You cleaned your bedroom and the living room. You washed all of the blankets and linens, hanging them up on the line out front. When you glanced towards the garden, the sun high in the sky and a crisp breeze at your back, Aki was nowhere to be found.

At last, just before sundown, he returned — along with the scarlet songbird in tow. You set down the dish you were washing as he tossed open the door to greet you in the kitchen.

In just one day, the bird has made immense progress. She's been following me all day, Aki explained earlier this afternoon. The bird flew out of the cottage when he left, and proceeded to follow Aki into the garden, perching on his shoulder whenever she needed to rest.

The bird flutters back inside, settling in her makeshift nest, and Aki holds the front door open, gesturing for you to follow.

A faint pout forms on your lips, your brow raising, arms crossing. "You're letting all the warm air out."

Aki lets go of a half-laugh, half-sigh. His hair is tied up, his sleeves are rolled slightly, but his tunic is otherwise neat. If he'd been working out in the garden, usually he'd return with his shirt and his palms covered in dirt; he's cleaned himself up already, it seems.

"There's something I want to show you," Aki says simply, "It's a surprise."

You shift from foot to foot. "What about dinner?"

"I'll help you make something afterwards. It won't take long, I promise."

You give yourself only a moment more to consider.

Following close behind, you allow Aki to lead you behind the cottage, through the clearing, and into the edges of the forest. With the end of the day fast approaching, the air is cooling down; it nips at your arms and your neck with gentle, icy teeth. Your boots crunch on leaves and fallen branches. Shadows envelop the forest floor, the thick canopy above watching over you. A large hill rests just behind your cottage, and you spot it as the whispering trees start to thin.

"Aki," You murmur, staring at his back, your chilly hands shoved in your pockets. The hill is clearly where he's leading you to, but why? "How far is whatever you wanted to show me?"

"Not far. It's right here," He replies, turning around to face you, offering you a reassuring glance. "We're just heading up this hill. I scouted the area already, pretty sure the devils have no idea this spot exists. We'll be able to run back home if anything happens, okay?"

You come to a stop at the foot of the hill, and you glance down. You watch, as you delicately step over the line that forms your magic mushroom circle. The spell splinters, losing its shape, leaving your veins in a rush. Aki is already halfway up the hill, and you hurry close behind him, following him to the top — where the sky finally comes into full view.

The sight you're met with is brilliant.

From the very top of the hill, you can see the clearing and your cottage. You can feel the breeze rustling your clothing and floating through your hair, almost as if you could fly, if you had wings. You're surrounded by hues of bright orange and pink that color every inch of the sky, vivid shades pooling around the edges of the clouds. If you squint, you can just barely glance at the line where the sun meets the horizon, glowing brightly as it begins to dip into the endless line of trees. A fierce dot of radiant yellow, alighting everything it touches in the very same hue.

The wind tugs at your clothes. You place a palm on your forehead, shielding your eyes to look at the sky clearer. You remember climbing this hill when you first made your cottage, but Gods, you've never seen anything like this.

Aki walks further, guiding you to the furthest edge of the hill — and that's when you spot it. A large log placed for the both of you to sit on, with a few blankets draped across it, and a delicately-picked bundle of flowers placed on top.

"Oh- you-" You're talking without thinking, your breath caught in your throat, your eyes wide as you glance between him and the arrangement. Aki is smiling stupidly. He looks at you and then towards the horizon, as though he's still waiting for you to follow.

"You did all of this?" You sigh. "Aki, you didn't have to-"

"I know," Aki interrupts, soft and assured, far too tender. Of course he didn't have to, but this is what he wanted.

"Come here," He says, gesturing once more for you to follow. Your hands clutch the front of your shirt absently, but you trail close behind with unsteady steps. "Make yourself comfortable. Would you like a blanket?"

"I'm okay," You answer. You sit down on the log, awkwardly resting your hands in your lap. Aki swiftly sits down next to you, a foot or so of distance still kept in between.

You shake your head. "I'm not that cold."

"Alright. If you'd like one, just say the word."

Your heart pounds in your ears to a fervent melody. As you fiddle with your hands, you barely notice Aki reaching for the flowers that were resting on the other side of your homemade seat.

They're bundled delicately, stems secured by a thin piece of twine, tied into a messy attempt at a bow. Orchids. Exquisite white blooms, with petals splattered in shades of purple and pink. Your gaze catches on his, something unreadable but surely shy flashing in his expression. The sun's low light makes him look so warm. Aki's grip tightens on the stems, and he clears his throat quietly.

"I've wanted to show you this for far too long, now. And after you mentioned it yesterday, I thought this would be a good place to watch the sunset," He explains, his tone kept smooth, despite the unsureness to his movements as he sets the flowers in his lap. "Hold on-"

Aki chooses one of the smaller orchids. He pulls at the middle of the stem, breaking it off from the rest. Your gaze follows him, as he shifts closer, closing a few threads of distance between you. He reaches forwards, then up, tucking the flower behind your ear, his fingers brushing your jaw as he does so.

He smiles — a terribly soft, utterly lovesick smile. His fingertips linger on the side of your face for longer than they have to. He admires you, the wind pulling faintly at your hair, the flower's colorful bloom practically glowing in the vibrant light of the fading sun. You feel warm, down to your veins; you can hardly think, can't hear anything besides the pound of your own heart. Aki pulls away, his gaze still caught on you, and you find yourself missing the brush of his touch.

"You're so pretty." Aki breathes a low, calm breath. "Prettier than the sun."

Oh. In your vision, Aki seems to glow brightly, outlined by the blues and pinks of the sky. His unkempt bangs brush his eyes, his earrings twirling in the gentle wind. Your hands shake slightly when you take the bundle of flowers from him, your face feels warm — and he swears, more than the flowers, you seem to blossom. A smile crosses your features, fading into the faintest, most perfect laugh.

"You're ridiculous," You chide playfully, shaking your head. Holding the orchids in your lap, you brush your thumb over the soft petals of one of the blooms. You can feel the flower that rests behind your ear, tickling your face when the wind makes it rustle. "I can't believe you did all of this."

Aki hums, "It's nice though, isn't it? You can see the sky so clearly from here."

He's right. The moon is already visible — a thin crescent that plans to usher in the night to come. Crisp cool air fills your lungs with each breath, and as the sun dips lower, the horizon shimmers in fading shades of red. It's lovely on its own, but knowing Aki thought of you, planned this for you, has your mind in such a mess, you can hardly focus on the view.

Aki is no better. He rests his chin in his hand, his gaze on yours, his smile clumsy and endearing. The fading sun and the trees and the sky could never be as captivating as you.

You steal the smallest glance towards him, and when you see him still staring, your shoulders go slack with your light laughter. "You're not even watching…"

"Oh," Aki turns away, trying his hardest — and utterly failing — to hide his smile. "Yeah. I wasn't."

The sun blends into the distant sea of trees like butter melting on a skillet, and although he promised the opposite, Aki finds himself glancing at the sparkle in your gaze once more.

He rolls his shoulders backward. His voice sounds unsure when he speaks.

"I know this isn't much. But I hoped I could do something nice for you, to… I don't know." Aki sighs, struggling to put his words into place. "To thank you, for all the kindness you've shown me."

You glance towards him again, almost forming a rebuttal, but he promptly interrupts.

"And I know I didn't have to. None of this was necessary, I didn't have to do any of the things I've done. But you-" His hands are tense, and he squeezes his own fingers, trying to alleviate his growing tension. He seems so earnest, like his words are more than words, but shimmering stars simply begging to fall — "You deserve more than words could say. You're important. I thought this might be… something you'd find important, too."

Aki stalls, brushing his thumb over his own knuckles. You want to say so much, even though you're sure you shouldn't. Aki, it's lovely, this is beautiful. And this is so, so perfect. I can't remember the last time I felt so happy, if there was any time at all. But words come as stuck constellations whenever Aki has you like this; your heart skips, and you couldn't possibly pick out everything, you can only manage to utter some of them.

Your breathing wavers. "I'm important to you?"

Aki sighs, his gaze meeting yours. "You are everything to me."

Your heart thrums in your chest, iridescent in your throat, drumming firm against your ribs. You're speechless, for more than a few moments. The rest of the world — the shaking trees, the smoke billowing from your distant cottage, the dying sun — pleasantly fades away. Aki weakens, his expression soft and his voice gentle.

"And it's- it isn't just because you saved my life," He explains, "You are kind and thoughtful, and so, so special. There is so much I could tell you. Gods, every time I talk to you, the words- everything flows effortlessly. I've never felt that before. Not once."

Not once. Not with anyone. You shift, trying to catch your breath — trying not to let those words consume you.

Aki's hand rests at his side, mere inches away. His fingers nervously drum the rough wood.

"It's been a pleasure to share these days with you. To learn more about you, to talk and to just- to just be." He goes quiet, before he laughs, his gaze now focused on the distant view. You swear the lightest trace of pink dusts his face, his pointed ears. "You remember that word I taught you yesterday?"

You nod shallowly. "Ardentis." Your head tilts as you try to catch his wandering gaze again. "You aren't talking too much, though."

"Really?" Aki breathes a soft hum, almost in disbelief. "You did say you enjoyed the sound of my voice, once."

Once, and each time after. Your reply comes in the form of a slow, uneven breath, along with the subtle movement of your hand; until your pinky finger is able to brush his just slightly. Barely tender, nothing more than a faint touch, a silent promise. Still, you steady, savoring the feeling of him close to you, and melting in the heat of the thick, molten warmth inside your chest.

Glancing down, unable to face you, Aki hesitates for a fair stretch of time. You're barely able to catch the conflicted look on his features before he moves his hand away, like it'd been burned. His jaw clenches. Your hand craves more of his touch in his absence.

"That- that was too much, wasn't it?" His brows pinch, he almost sounds pained. "Maybe I should-"

He starts to stand, but you stop him halfway. You grab his hand and squeeze it tight — like the action is natural, like it isn't the first time you've tried this. His skin is soft, his palm is rough, his knuckles are ragged with crosshatches of scars. You refuse to let go, even as Aki follows your gaze, slowly sitting back down beside you.

"Don't go," You murmur simply. "Please."

Aki's expression goes terribly, dangerously soft. If you had planned to let go of him, if you hoped that your judgment could guide you and in the interest of caution, you would keep some distance — all of those ideas are rendered useless when he squeezes your hand back. Gentle yet firm, tight enough to make you think he never truly wanted to leave in the first place.

"Aki… I-" Oh, it's so much harder to talk when he's inches away, and when the only thing your mind and pounding heart can focus on is his hand in yours. His hand. You never want to let go. "There's so much I want to tell you, I just- I can't. I don't know if I ever can."

"You don't have to," Aki returns when you falter. "It's alright."

"I know, but I want to. I guess- I would miss you, if you left. So terribly. And-" You stop, sighing. Your bottom lip quivers, everything failing, converging, all of the feelings you shouldn't hold onto and the lies you've told; "I'm sorry."

Aki shakes his head, and softly coos, "You have nothing to apologize for."

You look away, glancing towards his hand in yours. Each inhale and exhale comes quick and sharp. The wind brushes the back of your neck, complimenting the heat that runs through your veins. Aki shifts. His hand is soft and warm, his palm is large, but his fingers are deft and delicate. When they lace with yours, fingers fitting perfectly between the gaps of your own, hands intertwining together, you can't help but wish they would forge. Like a stone statue. To always stay just like this.

"I would miss you more than you know," Aki admits, offering your hand a gentle squeeze. "The days have gone by so fast. It feels like I've hardly had a chance to savor them."

You nod. "I remember when we met. Like it was yesterday."

"Do you?" He smiles, exhaling with an ever-so slight laugh. It wasn't exactly the best introduction. "I was supposed to return to the kingdom that very same night. Ages ago, I should've been back. At every turn, I would tell myself… just a few more moments with you, and then I would leave. Just one more day. And now look at us."

"Oh," You glance back up at him. "Am I keeping you?"

"Of course not." Aki reaches up, and he doesn't hesitate to brush his free palm over your cheek, cupping it gently; the orchid's white petals tickle his fingertips. It takes everything within you not to lean into him. "It was my choice. Besides, I'm not going anywhere. Not without you."

The silence that begins to stretch between you is long and thick. Glowing in hues of orange through the darkening sky, you're illuminated by the almost-set sun. Aki's thumb caresses your cheek, and you give in; leaning close, you sigh, you press your hand over his to keep it there.

"If we went to the kingdom," You start; your gaze flickers up to meet his, your words trying not to tremor. "What would we do?"

Aki answers, his tone low, "Whatever you want to do."

"I'd like to visit the sea. And the town square. And the grand library."

"Then let me take you there." Aki's voice is full of conviction, laced with an intensity that strongly shudders through you, "I can show you everything you want to see. I won't leave your side, if that's what you want. We'll make things work- I'll do whatever it takes. I promise."

The impossible odds you've let define you seem meaningless when you let your gaze flicker across him, trying to put the pieces he's given you into place. Instead of the orange in the sky, the green in the trees, the red on the horizon and the red that has painted the back of your vision since you learned how to speak, you see in shades of blue. You dream of the ocean — white waves and rocky seas underneath your fingertips, as you lose yourself in the blue of his gaze.

In every romance book you've ever read, the novels you busied yourself with when you summoned them instead of something factual — sometimes on accident, but then, on purpose — this is when the two main leads would tilt closer. This is when the knight would caress the princess' cheek, whispering how fortunate he is to be together once more. His eyes would flutter shut before they kissed, lips desperately crashing together like sinking ships. Like this is the last time they ever would.

You almost grow lost in those daydreams. Almost. Almost is far too risky of a word, when it is the only thing that separates you from dragging Aki close, running your fingertips along his jaw, and forgetting all reason to press your lips to his.

Thankfully, Aki slowly pulls away. He brushes your cheek one last time, before he shifts back, letting go of your hand. Recognizing the both of you might've grown carried away, you don't attempt to reach out again. You place your hands in your lap, and look elsewhere to catch the final glimpses of the sun's vibrant edge.

You feel cold now. It'd be wise to return home soon, before the forest gets too dark to navigate. Aki seems to have the same idea. Yet, even as you glance back to him to watch him stand, you can't seem to convince your own legs to move.

"Come on," He gathers the blankets he'd brought and keeps them under his arm, before he reaches to you, offering you his hand once more. "We should head back."

Like a book snapping closed, fluttery pages pressed back together, the moment lingers, but fades. You take his outstretched hand, and allow him to guide you to your feet. You grab the bundle of orchids, holding them in front of you, staring down at the dainty, delicate petals.

"But-" You look up. "What about…?"

Aki continues once you trail off. "Don't answer. Just think about it, okay?" He drapes one of the blankets over your shoulders, carefully wrapping it around you. His gaze focuses on his hands as he ties the ends together to keep it in place. "About your choice, or about where you'd like to go first. Whichever comes easiest to you."

For now, you can ponder neither of those. When you head down the hill together, leaving the sky behind, all you can think of is how you were definitely, most certainly wrong.

Sunsets must be your favorite.

—

The scarlet songbird takes her leave a few days later.

Her wing has healed, and she's grown strong enough to fly wherever she pleases. After eating her fill of seeds and enjoying the warmth of the fireplace one last time, she patiently waited until morning, before she drifted out the front door and into the forest, her red wings disappearing amongst the trees. She didn't return, even once nightfall came. You're thankful. Her life will continue, as it was always meant to.

Tonight, Aki had promised to collect firewood and start the fire outside, so it'd be ready by the time you were finished with dinner. The cottage is quiet with the absence of his voice and the bird's chirping. The orchids he'd given you rest in a vase on the dining room table. You take your ladle, and continue to stir the warm, nearly complete pot of stew. Then, you reach up and into the cupboard, searching for the seasoning.

You ran out with the last meal you prepared, but you always keep some extra in the very back. Standing on your tiptoes, you fumble blindly, making the various jars clink together as you try to find what you're looking for.

You grab one, unsure if it's the jar you're after. When you set it on the counter, you unfortunately realize it isn't. This was where you were storing your last few shavings of white hazel.

The thin, white leaves have begun to crumble due to age. They're much less potent like this. They should be safer to handle, but a dosage of this size would be much less effective.

Gently, you pop the lid on the jar. A soft, thick scent wafts from the contents, before disappearing almost immediately. The leaves would need to be ingested to serve their purpose. And it would take all of them, most likely. You'd only have one chance.

If you touched them, infusing them with your magic, you could make their effects much stronger. All you would need to do then is dish out the bowls — one for him, and one for you — before dropping all of them into his dish, stirring for a moment until they dissolve. White hazel is tasteless. Besides, Aki never wastes your cooking.

You could make Aki forget all about you. About everything you've told him, and everything that's happened here. He'd forget your cottage, and each moment you shared; they'd all be lost on him. Meeting you, your gentle touches as you brought him back to life. Your late night talks, your days spent growing closer. Everything would be gone, even up to the bird, and that fateful, sunlit, all-too tender evening.

You sigh.

Grabbing the jar, you stroll over to the fireplace. You kneel down to dump all of the leaves into the flames. They crisp up in mere seconds, before they fade away into nothing but dust and ash.

The sea would be nice to visit first. It's the one thing you've always wanted to explore, more than anything else. The sea, and the castle. Briefly, you wonder if visiting the royal castle would actually be a genuine possibility. With the benefit of his royal status, Aki might be able to get you in — perhaps in a few months to a year, depending on when he can get the both of you a party reservation. Oh, but for a royal party, you'd have nothing to wear. Would the shops in town sell dresses?

Maybe you should save your first visit to the sea for a more special occasion. You wouldn't want to go without Aki. Would the harbor look more beautiful at night, with the lighthouses and boats casting glittering lights that rival the stars, or in the morning, when everyone is yet to wake, allowing you to hear nothing but the calm lull of the waves?

Or perhaps, you should see it at sunset.

[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

[moonselune]

Rolan introducing male tav to his family? i think it would be so cute how they would all tease him

Awww yesss i love a little bit of rolan

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Rolan x M!reader | Meeting the Siblings

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun hung low over Baldur's Gate as you approached Ramazith's Tower alongside Rolan. The tiefling mage, typically composed and confident, seemed a touch jittery, smoothing his robes more times than was necessary and glancing at you for reassurance.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you said with a chuckle, elbowing him lightly. “I’m not going to mess this up.”

Rolan exhaled through his nose, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not you I’m worried about,” he admitted. “It’s Cal and Lia. They’re…” He hesitated. “Intense.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Intense how?”

“You’ll see.”

The tower loomed before you, its door swinging open to reveal a warmly lit interior. Before you even had time to admire the space, a whirlwind of energy came barreling down the stairs.

“Rolan!” a female voice called out, excitement laced with mischief. A younger tiefling—Lia, you assumed—rushed forward and threw her arms around her brother. Close behind her was Cal, the taller and calmer of the siblings, though his sharp grin betrayed an equally mischievous streak.

“Well, well, well,” Cal drawled, his golden eyes locking on you. “Who’s this? Didn’t think our dear brother was capable of charming someone this… delightful.”

Rolan groaned, gently prying Lia off him. “Can we skip the dramatics for once?”

“No chance,” Lia said, stepping closer to you with a grin that mirrored her brother’s. “So, you’re the one who’s managed to put up with our dear Rolan?”

“I’d like to think it’s more than just ‘putting up,’” you replied, matching her grin.

“Oh, I like him,” Lia said immediately, turning to Cal. “He’s got a sense of humor. What do you think?”

Cal pretended to inspect you, stroking his chin theatrically. “A little too nice, maybe. What’s your angle?”

“Cal,” Rolan growled, his cheeks darkening with embarrassment.

“Relax, Rolan,” you said, putting a hand on his arm. “They’re just testing me.” You turned back to Cal with a mock-serious expression. “My angle is that I find your brother irresistibly charming. Does that pass your test?”

Lia let out a bark of laughter, and even Cal chuckled. “Irresistibly charming,” he repeated, glancing at Rolan. “Who knew?”

“I certainly didn’t,” Lia added, smirking.

Rolan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” you reassured him, leaning in slightly. “They’re great.”

“And so are you,” Lia said, clasping her hands together. “Seriously, Rolan, how did you manage this? Did you use magic? Bribery?”

“Neither,” Rolan said stiffly, though his ears burned bright. “They happen to like me for who I am.”

“Which is baffling,” Cal said with mock astonishment.

Rolan muttered something under his breath about never bringing you anywhere again, but you could see the fondness in his eyes as his siblings continued their playful banter.

“Okay, okay,” you said, holding up a hand. “I get it. Rolan’s lucky to have me, right?”

“Exactly!” Lia said, pointing at you.

“But you’re also lucky to have him,” Cal added, his tone turning more sincere. “He’s not so bad once you get past the grumpy exterior.”

“True,” Lia agreed. “He’s actually pretty great.”

Rolan looked genuinely touched, though he quickly masked it with a gruff, “Can we stop talking about me like I’m not here?”

“Fine,” Lia said with an exaggerated sigh. She turned to you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “But if he ever gets on your nerves, you come to us. We’ve got plenty of embarrassing stories to share.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, laughing.

As the evening went on, the teasing gave way to genuine warmth. Rolan’s siblings welcomed you wholeheartedly, and though they never stopped poking fun at their brother, it was clear how much they adored him—and how glad they were that he had someone like you in his life.

Later, as you and Rolan walked back to your camp, he glanced at you with a small, grateful smile.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“For what?” you asked, bumping his shoulder playfully.

“For putting up with them. And with me.” You stopped walking and turned to face him.

“Rolan,” you said, taking his hand in yours, “I don’t put up with you. I’m here because I want to be.”

His cheeks flushed again, but this time, he didn’t look away. “You’re too good for me, you know that?”

You grinned. “I’ve heard that a lot tonight. Maybe it’s true.”

He huffed a laugh, pulling you into a rare, unguarded kiss. And for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you, the teasing and laughter of his siblings fading into a memory you’d cherish forever.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Little snippet for y'all, hope you enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[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!

[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: ウィツィロポチトリ

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."

[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."