#ornament and crime

[madisvinyl]

Self • Ornament & Crime // 1/2,000 • black and purple starburst •

Favourite side: A

Favourite songs: Hellbent, Mermaid, No One Knows You, Can’t Go On, Emotional

[etherdiver]

Look at that, it's the third installed of my patch of the week series! This week we delve in to the basics of generative sequencing, using the Turing Machine mode on an Ornament and Crime to sequence the patch we've been building for the past two weeks.

[wkaseke]

[bunnyb34r]

Um I got an interesting suprise in my lush box...

Looks aside though what the fuck am I gonna do with a dried banana chunk 😭 am I supposed to let it float in my bath? Am I supposed to compost it? Is it a snack?? 🍌

The picture on the order sheet is a square little bubble bar and ofc I get a vagina one 😭😭

[galaxywhale]

my character is connected to another character through our backstories and they’re like.. bonded, he has no choice but to stick with her bc if she dies, he dies and it’s SO much fun bc my character is a lying thief and his character is a law abiding investor and it’s been a looot of fun to ply so far :’)

[tsmerch]

THAT AIN'T MY MERLOT ORNAMENT

$25

[dlyarchitecture]

[inbabylontheywept]

by tradition, the first day of the camp was spent pranking the group next to us. our prank was ziptying the zippers on their sleeping bags together. we figured one of them would sleep with a knife, because we all slept with knives, because we were dangerous maniacs and half the danger of a dangerous maniac is that they tend to think that they are Actually Normal. so. obviously that didn't pan out, and instead they got stuck in their sleeping bags for like half an hour and because their scoutmaster slept in their car and couldn't hear them yelling, they actually only got out when one of them went full caged animal and chewed through the plastic. which meant they had time to make it to the axe throwing station, but they did miss breakfast.

the scale of our victory was impossible to understate. it was an epic prank. unrivaled. the best in years. we knew they were going to retaliate, and we both feared and craved it. maybe i'm still a maniac, but that feels like a common thing, right? do well adjusted people that are not maniacs crave Judgement?

(serious answers only please, from people who would never spoon a knife.)

anyway, the next day we got back to our camp, and the neighors had skipped dinner to just come back and fill all our tents with pinecones. which was like, a decent prank, i guess, but it probably took them an hour to fill all the tents up, and it took us like 15 minutes to tip the tents out, and as a return volley to the ziptie prank it was incredibly underwhelming. we felt a little cheated.

so our scouting group held a council, and we agreed, unanimously, that our prank was 100% better and theirs sucked and that there would be no escalating tensions because we were the clear victors. they'd had their chance to retaliate, and they failed, and so the war was over. that was it.

we agreed on this. we swore. but madness is a relative thing, and in our group of maniacs, we still had J. i have many, many J stories. too many. i biked up to school with him from 4th grade to 8th, and i saw him get hit by cars thrice. he'd just swerve into the road sometimes. one time on a rainy day in 4th grade, a car splashed me, and before i could even consider my response J yelled I GOT THIS and then he blitzed off after the car. i didn't see him the rest of the day. i was so anxious i barely slept that night. i saw him the next morning and he told me that he'd chased the car until it got to a gated community and then he'd climbed over the fence and looked in peoples garages until he found the one with the car, and then he'd ripped the hood ornament off and broke their window. then he gave me a hood ornament to a different brand of car from the one that splashed me and i didnt tell him because i didnt want him missing more school. i want you to mentally adjust your mental model of the things a 9 year old is capable of doing to include chasing a car for five miles, hopping a fence, breaking into a garage, and vandalizing a randos car.

and that's just the tip of my J stories iceberg.

the point of all this is just to say that J was so crazy that he made us knife spooners look like accountanting enthusiasts.

so we agreed the war was done, and we shook on it, and then J, in the name of friendship, in the name of honor, in the name of avenging our pinecone filled tents, snuck over to their camp that evening and fornicated with a watermelon that they'd been saving in their cooler.

i want to emphasize, again, that this was not the consensus of the group. that is not a prank. like i know it seems like we dont know what pranks are because of the whole ziptie thing, but even we knew that fucking someones food is not a prank, it is a crime, and a sin, the kind of weapon that had only been ethically used once in history by Horus in his battle against Set and none of us dumb assholes had owl heads.

so.

the next day went pretty well. we threw some more axes again, which is a valuable and important skill for children to learn i guess, and we learned how to tie knots, which is a skill that turned out to be far sexier than i ever expected, and i learned how to light fires with a magnifying glass, which was great. i'm looking back at this, and i am actually just now beginning to realize that the clear and obvious point of scouting is turning child sociopaths into apex predators.

and then the day ended, and we went back to our camps, except for our leaders, who had a sort of Scout Leader Meeting they were going to have for a few hours at least. it was built into the camp, that day was supposed to be our day to chill as a group, and make peach cobbler, and just be buddies.

except, as it turned out, our neighboring group's alternative to making peach cobbler was eating their watermelon. so at some point they opened their watermelon, and woo boy. oh man. you think catholics hated seedless watermelons? you should see how much mormons hate seeded ones.

so we were chilling by the fire, and then we heard screaming from the camp over, but we didn't pay much mind to that because there are many reasonable explanations for a group of 10ish children to scream simulanteoulsy, such as wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then the screaming got closer, which did not bother us because there were many reasons for a group 10ish children to scream and run towards us, for example, wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then we noticed they had large sticks on them, which we figured were perhaps being used to drive away the wasps, which are abundant in arizona, and then they arrived and they started beating the shit out of us, abundantly, in arizona.

so we ran into the woods.

now, at this point, we had no idea what was up. we knew that the camp next to us was out for blood, which was crazy, because we'd actually locked them in fartproof bags for 30 minutes and they'd barely done anything back, and were trying to figure out what could possibly have happened that could drive them to Terrible Violence when we realized that J was cackling like a witch that had learned how to order children off of ebay.

so we politely asked J what the hell he had done, and he politely explained that had "done" their watermelon, and we politely beat him with large sticks because life is nothing but endless cycles of violence.

we were still being chased by the other camp btw. so it was them, chasing us, chasing J, and then they got tired and went back to their camp, and we chased J a little longer because we were mad we'd all been walloped with sticks, and J did not care because he was a supernatural entity whose only weaknesses were Needles and Fire, and then we got tired and went back and J kept running, and we just kind of figured he would come back eventually.

he did not.

we went back to our tents, and we waited, and J did not come back. we stayed up all night, peering into the forest, worrying. our leader came back, and we did our best to hide our battlewounds, and he either genuinely did not notice or simply accepted this as part of Boyhood. then he went to bed, and we waited, and waited, and waited. And Waited. and did not sleep.

eventually, we convened again, and we agreed that if J was not back by after breakfast, we would have to tell the scoutleader about what exactly had transpired. and we really did not want to do that, because it would have meant that everyone would have gotten in a very large amount of trouble.

morning came around, and J still was not back. we went to breakfast, and we ate very, very slowly. we were afraid the other camp was going to continue their war with us, but they actually looked fairly frightened. one of them actually came to us and asked for a truce, and we agreed because we truly felt bad for them. like, yes, they did beat us with sticks, but J fucked their watermelon. we werent complicit in the watermelonfuckening but they didnt know that, and it was definitely the kind of crime that left one outside the bounds of the social contract.

and then when we could eat no more bits, when breakfast was almost done, right when i was getting pushed to go and tell the scoutleader that we needed to find J, he arrived. he was sleep deprived, and noticeably scraped and bloody, and tied to his belt was a blood squirrel tail.

and i asked him, J, where did you get that? and he said, don't worry man, it was already dead, which did not answer by question and gave me several more.

the camp ended that day, and the other groups avoided us like the plague, and it was not until some weeks later that we were able to piece together what happened.

J, in his sojourn through the forest, managed to find (or, possibly, make) a dead squirrel. he then cut off the tail to keep on his belt, because he was a weird little freak like that. he also took the dead squirrel, and he skinned it, then he tied it to a little crucifix made of wood, and he left it in the other scouting group's camp. which is why they were so scared of us.

it was such an unhinged thing to do it actually sobered us up for a while. scouting became a scary thing for us. we'd found something dark and primal there, in the place where no adult could see, and our appreciation of J as a wild ride kind of changed into seeing him as something truly dangerous. we had a sense wherever he went, something terrible would follow, and the only way to escape it was to not be there when it arrived. and so piece by piece, the scout group dissolved. it wasnt until he moved out of that ward that the rest of us started daring to go back to scouts.

and for the final epilogue of the tale:

i have a little brother who was friends with a younger cousin of J's, and the two would go to parties together in highschool. and sometimes J, who was in his early 20's at that point, would show up at the parties, and it was unsettling in such a way that it just became a known risk at parties with the cousin. and at one party, they were playing truth or dare, and J wasn't even in the room, but someone asked him the Truth of how he always knew how to find the cousin, and J said the cousin's mom had mentioned she was worried about him and the parties so he'd put a tracker in his car. and when he saw that the cousin was out of the house on weekends, he'd made a visit by, just to make sure he was safe.

then he left. and every single person at that party went over that poor kid's car. they searched the wheel-wells, checked underneath it, the works, until they found the tracker. then because they were clever, they didnt break it, or throw it away, or anything that would've given away what they'd done. they just gave the tracker to the cousin, who put it in his glovebox. and on schooldays, he'd take it with him, so J could see him in the parking lot. and on weekends, he could leave it in the garage, so he could go to parties with out Hell coming with him. because everyone that met J - every single person - knew that the only way to be safe from him was to be far, far away.

[snekdood]

stg europeans coming here saw cool native plants that looked similar to the ones in europe and decided they were shittier and less pretty for no fuckin reason. like why tf is lesser celandine everywhere when marsh marigold looks LITERALLY THE EXACT FUCKIN SAME.

[ckret2]

So y'all know the Gravity Falls production bible that leaked three weeks ago. Someone in one of my discord servers pointed this out:

And, naturally, that spawned an entire AU.

AU Concept: Ford was kicked out instead of Stan and takes a job as a trucker to makes ends meet since he couldn't go to college, while still studying the weird and anomalous however he can.

Ford driving around from quirky small town to quirky small town, drifting through the liminal spaces of truck stops, meeting odd people in isolated diners, seeing strange things out on the road—a deer with too many eyes bounding across a two-lane highway, a flirty woman at a rest stop who doesn't blink or breathe, mysterious lights in the sky at night, inhuman growls on the CB or 50-year-old broadcasts on the radio—and taking notes when he stops for gas or food.

Aside from having gotten kicked out before graduating high school, Ford's the same person he is in canon.

He's still an ambitious guy, and here "ambitious" means working hard and saving as much money as he can—so, a long haul owner-operator who spends weeks at a time on the road. (He goes through a LOT of educational audiobooks.) Plus, this is the easiest way for him to get to travel the country; and since it looks like his "travel the world" dreams with Stan are dead, he'll take what he can get.

Since he's never in the same spot long and carries his life in a truck, almost all of Ford's research is in his journal. His bag of investigation supplies has an instant camera, a portable tape recorder, a thermometer, a flashlight, rubber gloves, and a few zip lock bags—and that's about it. It has to share space with all his clothes, toiletries, and nonperishable food when he's on the road. He doesn't have much opportunity to closely examine anything odd he finds, unless he's lucky enough to run into something when he can stop for the night. He has to cram his paranormal research around the side of his full-time job.

He doesn't live in Gravity Falls, but he knows it exists. Every time he moves—to Chicago, to Nebraska, to California—he seems to inch closer. He currently lives in Portland and usually hauls loads between the Pacific Northwest and Chicago or New York. He stops at the truck stop outside Gravity Falls when he can and has gone fishing in town a few times. He doesn't have the benefit of extensive research to know that this is the weirdest town in the world; but it seems pretty weird to him, there are local rumors about the town, and he's had some weird experiences in the area.

Plus, he can't explain it, but it's like the town's calling to him. He wants to move there, but it'd put him over an hour outside of Portland where the nearest jobs are. Maybe if somebody chucked him like $100k to build a cabin in the woods; but what are the odds of that?

He does know Fiddleford. Truck broke down somewhere and Fiddleford kindly pulled over to fix it on the fly. They looked at each other, had mutual knee-jerk "dumb trucker/hillbilly" reactions, and within ten minutes both went "oh wait you're the most brilliant genius i've ever met." Fiddleford's living the same life he was in canon before Ford called him to Gravity Falls—with his family in California, trying to start a computer company out of his garage—but they make friends and keep in contact.

One time Ford stops at a kitschy roadside knickknack store that also sells new agey magic things—crystals, tarot cards, incense, etc. He bought a "lucky" rearview mirror ornament that looks like an Eye of Providence in a top hat and hung it from his cab fan, and ever since then he's had weird dreams whenever he sleeps in his truck.

Things I don't know yet: what Stan's up to; or why Ford's the one who got kicked out. I tend to believe that in canon Stan wasn't just kicked out because he ruined Ford's college prospects, but rather because the family thought he deliberately sabotaged Ford; so in this AU, Ford would've been kicked out over a proportionate crime.

[writers-potion]

Writing Weapons (2): Knives and Daggers

Dagger vs. Sword

In many situations, daggers might be more plausible than a sword fight.

Dagger are eaiser to carry and conceal, lighter, faster, good for spontaneous action, suicide bids, self-defense and assassination.

Dagger vs. Knife

No clear distinction; terms used interchangeably

Dagger is more for thrusting with 2 sharp edges

Knife is more for cutting (slashing) with 1 sharp edge

Concealment

Carried in a leather sheath on the belt

Can be concealed under a cloak, in a bodice (sheath sewn into the bodice), in a boot, behind hari ornaments

Bodice daggers (popular in the Renaissance) had no cross guards.

Connotations

Beside its combat value, the dagger has lots of emotional and sexual symbolisms.

The closeness need to attack with a dagger creates intense personal connection. They are often used in fights where emotions are running high: gang warfare, hate crime, vengeance.

Due to its shape and the fact that it's usually worn on a belt made it a symbol of virility in many cultures and periods.

Sometimes it was the hilt rather than the blade: like in the case of bollocks daggers with two...balls on either side of the hilt.

Fighting Techniques

Stabbing:-

The dagger with long, thin blades are made to stab a vital organ like the kidneys, liver, bowel, stomach or heart.

Stabbing directly at the chest seldom works, since the blde may glance off the ribs. Position the dagger below the ribcage and drive it upwards, through the diaphragm and into the lungs. If the sword is long enough and your fighter is a professional, you can get to the heart.

If no professional, just keep going for the stomach and you'll get one of the vital organs eventually.

Slashing:-

When describing a slash wound, show a lot of blood streaming, or even spurting.

Slashing dagger fights are bloody - show your MC's hands getting slick with blood, grip on the weapon slipping.

The aim is to cut the opponent's throat or cut tendoms, muscles, or ligaments to disable. Slashing the muscles in the weapon-wielding arm is the most effective; insides of the writst or back of the knee is also critical.

Assassinations:-

Show good knowledge of the humna antatomy

Use a stabbing dagger

A single, determined, calculated and efficient stroke, probably below the ribs.

Self-Defense:-

Disable the attacker by slashing their weapon-wielding hand (elbow or wrist)

Quick, multiple stabs wherever the MC can get the blade to land; the attacker won't give time for careful positioning

If the blade is too short to do any significant damage, maek up for this by stabbing so ast that the pain and blood loss distracts the opponent.

Vegeance and Hatred:-

Someone who is motivated by raging emotions will stab the victim repeatedly, even after he is already dead.

The attacker may stab or salsh the victim's face, disfiguring it.

Contemporary street fights and gang warfare usually involves these.

Duels:-

If both fighters are armed with daggers, include wrestling-type moves as they try to restrict each other's weapon hand.

Show them trying to disable each other by slashing insides of writes, elbows, the back of the knees, etc.

Dagger + Sword

If the character is expecting a fight, they can hold a sword in their right hand, and a dagger in their left to fight with both

Sword + mace combination also common.

Blunders to Avoid:

Direct stabbing at the chest wouldn't work.

Hero cannot cut his bread with a stabbing sword

adapted from <Writer's Craft> by Rayne Hall

[time4hemp]

Please share this.

[pazziville]

because i adore pazzi to the bone and have them on my mind 24/7/365 i shall present my pazzi roman empire list

part two here!

pazzi state fair tradition

azzi's mom liking a post about pazzi and paige

azzi greeting jon a hbd ft. paige

azzi saying paige has a great heart

paige lockdown defense aka hugging azzi

pazzi reserved 💗 for each other compilation

azzi calling out for paige

pazzi horseback riding

paige being touchy to azzi while playing with kids

azzi's lock screen that is allegedly paige (other angle)

the ornament

drake concert

paige is a fudd confirmed

azzi's amazing nap with paige

pazzi bench getty images

paige being azzi's number one fan and the president of azzi fudd fan club

infamous ice live ft. pazzi

europe air

pazzi touchy moment near the bench

matching for halloween (video clip)

paige calling azzi bighead

paige's crush

down bad in europe

paige being a menace while azzi studies

azzi annoying paige after their cool handshake

paige watching azzi with a baby

taking the fair to paige

matching/borrowing of necklace pt. 1

azzi twerking in front of paige

allegedly jealous azzi

iconic 'wife' clip

paige one sided staring contest with azzi

the goddamn sza concert wherein paige allegedly looked at azzi in the lyric 'i don't wanna see you with anyone but me'

team paige or team azzi

team doing a tiktok and paige allegedly pointing at azzi and looking at her during the lyric 'i'm saying that i love you everyday'

lifting clip

totally unnecessary holding of hands

sharing of clothes pt. 1

europe boat together

ice suspiciously smiling when paige mentions azzi

no one can stop them from teasing each other

matching shorts

together before mavs vs celtics game 2

paige staring at azzi hard

azzi saying it's good that paige isn't scared of the dark cause she is

compilation of interactions for team usa u17 part 1 part 2 part 3

paige sleeping in azzi's bed [video]

cruise clip

moments during 2018 girl's capital classic all-star game at st john's

lowkey flexing each other

paige fixing whatever was on azzi's outfit during the wnba draft

taking photos of each other

them in each other's ig comments

THE pazzi hug

crazy eye contact in sue bird's show

matching pants

young azzi slapping paige's forehead

azzi staring lovingly at paige

azzi wearing pazzi slam shirt and covering paige's face with a sticker

paige hovering over azzi while she works out

sleeping on the couch

her partner in crime

paige in azzi's tiktok comments

azzi's relationship with paige's family (another one)

azzi spanking paige

paige's eyes are glued to azzi

paige favorite a semi-pazzi edit

young pazzi enjoying a party together

matching/borrowing of necklace pt. 2

azzi hugging paige's mom

reading in front of kids

airport fetus pictures

camping

princess was rizzed

borrowing/matching clothes pt. 2

paige grabbing azzi for a hug

factimes

azzi trolling paige's reading ability

matching outfit

a bueckers bantering with a fudd

gentlewoman paige

soft pat pats

borrowing/matching clothes pt. 3

story of the olaf lego [one] [two] [three] [service]

paige heart eyes

azzi heart eyes

part of the family

azzi speechless after looking at paige [backup]

since i've hit the link limit in this post, time to make a second list which i'll be linking in this post! 💗

a/n: submissions of worthy pazzi roman empire moments will be accepted and shall be continuously added to this list. 🫶🏼

[n0n-sen-se]

💌 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐀𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐫. . .

includes ;; genya, muichiro content ;; pure fluff. a/n ;; stresstember eh? the perfect time to indulge in some adorable escapism! (´｡• ◡ •｡`) ♡

☆☆☆ # genya shinazugawa !

genya regularly receives check-ups at the Butterfly Mansion, thus you tend to bump into him a ton!

this is where things start to take a turn. . . he stops getting so angry and quick to shut you down. . . and instead, he starts watching you train a little more, keeping idle tabs on your schedule, daydreaming of you when he should be focusing on training. . .

then it hits him:

he's got a crush ?!

to this boy love literally feels lethal.

he can't function. at all. he's unable to stand or talk to you for more than a few seconds without becoming flustered and wracked with nerves.

so loving you from afar is the simplest-easiest option.

he stares a ton, and tries hard not to get caught.

daydreams when he shouldn't- and at the worst times- you can only get punched in the face while training so many times before you start to wonder if having a crush is really worth it.

i'm pretty sure anyone could see the reason this quick-tempered boy suddenly turns shy when he's around you.

and he hates admitting it. (what is he supposed to do? he's never been in love before?)

there are times when he's 100% undoubtably sure that you're busy- or far, far away from the scene of the crime. . . he'll sneak into your room (after double checking that the coast is clear, again) he'll leave a few wildflowers next to your nightstand.

just the thought that he's showing romantic affection towards you has his heart palpitating. . . even if it is, technically indirect.

has him paranoid as hell, like somehow even after all his precautions, you'll just know it was him. if you suspect him, or bring it up, he'll vehemently deny everything.

(whenever he leaves flower btw, it'll be up to a week before he works up the courage to bring another bunch, and in between he tries to garner the courage to talk to you. . . without success)

he'd actually get pretty comfortable with this scenario, and eventually saves up enough to produce a small vase to hold all the flowers.

and it feels like the biggest step yet!

its a painfully simple pot, and he feels he could do better, but he's tied a woven red string around the neck to help. . . at least a little.

you know. . . in the future he could tie notes to it. the thought has his ears burning red hot, and he flees the scene just as quickly.

☆☆☆ # muichiro tokito !

honestly, it doesn't fully occur to him that he is a secret admirer at first.

he just one day happens to notice you because you caught his eye. nothing in particular, there was just something. . . bright about your presence.

your eyes? your smile? who could really say. all he knows is that your very interesting to look at when you're around.

even your voice catches his attention, like the sound of bells to his ears. its calming and also so alluring? how are you able to charm him like this?

the couple times you caught him staring he looked away quickly, then he starts wondering why he's afraid of being caught?

that's when the idea of an idea starts to form in his head.

a crush!

honestly, i think he'd smile to himself at the thought. its all very confusing and all very new and exciting!

he'd stare a ton and try to be subtle. . . but then fail at that too. (at this point he's just standing beside a tree rather than behind it?)

muichiro gifts you things that remind him of you: things that are eye-catching and interesting to him.

. . . something that holds his attention as much as you do. . .

mostly things he's found, like the shiniest shells or rocks, broken ornaments or porcelain he's found. the best would probably be a tiny pearl he. . . acquired.

instructs his crow to deliver them to you, which in turn means you get hit in the head with said object- you don't need a more obvious clue to know that his crow hates. your. guts. (don't worry she's just a little jealous)

at first, he completely forgets that he's sent anything to you at all.

until he see's you holding them and it all connects.

silently hopes you to make the connection too. and i don't think he'd mind being caught at all. (its kind of like a fun game he's playing, that subsequently causes the faintest blush to appear across the bridge of his nose)

thinks about you maybe a bit too much, and starts to get excited at the prospect of being in love or a relationship! what would it be like to hold your hand, or even have all of your attention for once? (now he's just smiling up at the clouds like an adorable idiot)

if he writes anything (a note?) its just doodles and drawings he's done that he then hands over to his crow to deliver.

actually very fond of leaving you snacks too. . . or straight up offering to share while (innocently) asking you what ❛all those things in your hands❜ are.

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 18

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 17, Part 19

Warning! This has blood, injuries, and violence! This is a imposter Sagau so you can expect these topics!

The faintest sound of grass being crushed jolts you back into the waking world. Gripping your chest, your mind tries to remember your situation as you take deep shaky breaths. Just how long were you asleep?

The moon glimmers above you and it isn’t very obviously moved, so it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes… How could you have been so stupid to waste your limited time sleeping?!

The sound of heels stomping at a fast pace makes you move quickly. Packing up the medkit, you shove it into your bag and throw it over your shoulder. There’s a slight dizziness, your body is still sore and in pain, but it’s no longer unbearable.

From a 10 out of 10 to a 9 out of 10. Why couldn’t you get some sort of healing power as the Creator? Cursing your shitty luck that unfortunately didn’t change when being isekai’d, you bring up the game screen.

One more try, you reason with yourself. Maybe after that minute-long power nap, it will finally work for you. To your quick dismay, it still doesn’t work, but at least you could finally figure out where the fuck you were and where to go.

Staring at the game screen as your heart rate slowly rises from the sound of shoes stalking closer isn’t the situation you want to be in, but it is what you get from this particularly shitty hand of fate. What’s even worse is just how far away you are from any civilization, teleport waypoints, or statue of the sevens.

You eventually settle on going for the closest teleport waypoint and pray to any god besides Celestia that it reactivates your ability to teleport. Looking across the lake, you frown knowing you’ll have to walk around the whole damn thing.

Standing up, you can’t even pay attention to the rush of blood to your head as the dropping temperature monopolizes it. There’s no more time to waste. Kicking back into full drive, you weave past the Cryo Slimes now that you can actually see, and start to run on the edge of the lake.

It’s pathetic how you couldn’t take more than a few steps before an ice maiden flies beside you and blocks your path. Large waves of ice follow it before it dissolves into Cryo-infused talismans. The only paths you had now were the water to your left or going backward. 

Both clearly lead to death.

Just your fucking luck.

“Y/N!” Your name is spoken like a curse, as if you were nothing more than a pest meant to be crushed. Turning around, you look back at Shenhe who still doesn’t have any red ropes subduing her murderous urges.

Her polearm is waved slightly as blue slime flies off it. It’s only now that you realize the slimes near you were missing. The moon illuminates the blood shining off her clothing, both yours and hers. Dirt, minerals, and grass stains stick to her outfit and hair as she prowls closer.

The cold wind blows as she stops just a few feet in front of you. There is no blind anger or desperation for your death in her posture. Iridescent eyes stare you down as her Cryo vision is held in place solely by the gold ornament holding her hair in a loose ponytail. She is more than aware that your chance to survive or escape is low.

“You’ll pay for your crimes. Let my hatred suppress whatever meaningless feelings you have, to prevent you from ever resurrecting as a demon.” Cold. Her voice is cold as she holds her polearm in position and steps closer.

Despite the fear, despite the pain, and anger, you hold onto whatever half-baked plan you have in mind and stay in place. Backing away would only corner you against the ice wall she built.

Determined eyes stay locked onto Shenhe as your hands stay empty. Your silent refusal to bring out your weapon breaks whatever little self-control she has as she lunges at you. Gritting your teeth and throwing away your self-preservation, you rush forward to meet her.

Just as you hoped, Shenhe swings her weapon earlier with her quick reflexes and your heels dig into the ground to pull you back avoiding the fatal blow. The deep laceration on your collarbone is a small price to pay for your hands to grasp her wrists tightly. Growling, Shenhe moves to yank her hands away but petrification begins to overtake your hands and her wrists.

Not wanting to get caught in your petrifying trap again, she releases the polearm quickly, letting it clink out the ground. Your nails strain with the effort needed to keep her in your grasp but it’s worth it as her hands and wrists are successfully petrified. Like this, she couldn’t use her weapon or take out a talisman.

“You know, it’s really unfair of you to hold such a grudge against me for hurting you when you hurt innocent people all the time. Talk about a hypocrite.” With a mocking tone you begin to pull her into the shallow water. She tries to fight back but with your hands locked together and the water lapping at your feet, her resistance is futile.

“I mean, just cause you’re gullible and stupid enough to not pick up on basic social cues or even try to learn them, doesn’t mean you’re free from the consequence!” Your words end with a shout as you use your strength to pull Shenhe down with you into the water.

Falling onto your side with Shenhe in the same position, you raise your head just high enough to not drown. You didn’t pull her into the deep end, that would be suicide for you both but at least now she couldn’t use cryo without freezing herself too.

You could only hope she wasn’t that far gone to be willing to commit a murder-suicide.

Shenhe regains her bearing and quickly gains the upper hand by pinning you down into the shallow water. Holding your breath in the nick of time, your petrified hands push against her weight and flip her over.

Doing your best to hold her down in hopes of forcing her to pass out fails with how she switches the position. Constantly applying Petrify, you're locked in a grapple with Shenhe as the water splashes against your face.

“I don’t care that you hurt me. I care that you hurt my nephew!” Shenhe says in a frosty tone once she’s in an advantageous position.

Frowning at the sheer audacity of her words, pure annoyance gives you the strength to quickly overthrow her. It’s even enough to ignore how the arrow is pushed deeper and deeper into your chest.

“Stop fucking lying! You barely give a crap about him, which is still a leg up compared to how you seem to nearly hate the rest of humanity. The only person you like is the Traveler!”

“That’s not true, it’s not!” She refutes like a stubborn child. “I love the Creator too, more than anything else!” Her harsh breathing is strange, that anger she’s been so intent on expressing seems to hint at something else too…

“Then why the fuck are you still hunting me?! I didn’t do shit to the Creator nor to your precious traveler!” Probing for answers, you hold her down even with the ice spikes melting, unplugging your wounds.

“I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!” Shenhe spits it out the words with rising irritation but her resentment is slowly mixing with visible frustration. “The Traveler is my link to this world, my link to the Creator. I know for sure that I like her because these emotions fill me to the brim when I’m in her presence. That’s why I’m sure that I hate you!”

Shenhe’s feelings hit the limit as her next move slams your head onto the rock in the water. Your mouth opens automatically from the pain, water rushes into your mouth choking you. Ears ringing and body steadily going limp, your mind switches between intense static and terrifying calm contemplation on her words.

That resolute tone she spoke wasn't natural, almost like she’s forcing herself to believe her words. The back of your head feels warm and you can’t tell if you’re bleeding or if it’s just water.

Emotions filled Shenhe when she met the Traveler as you were the one controlling the Traveler all this time. The Traveler is publicly known as your acolyte, probably known as your first acolyte since you start Genshin with the Traveler. As this was her first taste of emotions since her father’s betrayal, she had a positive view of Lumine immediately.

But then what did that mean for you?

Your lungs burn as water blurs your vision and Shenhe shivers above you. The medical care you applied earlier did nothing now that you’re wet. Those useless, meaningless worries fade away as you retreat into contemplation, back to where you weren’t burdened with a fight you didn’t have the energy for.

Meeting you in person must have caused even more feelings to appear but you didn’t have a reputation like the Traveler did. Combine that with the action of stabbing her, it must have warped her perception of what feelings she has toward you.

Perhaps you hit your head too hard, or maybe it was the lack of oxygen that caused a near-manic glee to fill you. With strength unknown to you, you finally push her down and smile wide enough that it borders on being creepy. The water left in your mouth runs down your face with no change in your expression.

“This has to be some bullshit. The world, Celestia, and fate must be dying to screw me over in every way possible.” Your eyes stare unmoving down at the somewhat stunned Shenhe. The slight furrow of her eyebrows and the smallest downward turn of her lips tempt you to speak with mocking joy.

“Congratulations Shenhe, you don’t hate me, you never did! You love me, you love me the same fucking way you love the Traveler. Because just as Yelan said earlier, I’m an oracle, and no matter how much you want to push those feelings away. They. Won’t. Leave.”

Punctuating those last words with more force, you lean down closer to her face which morphs into something mirroring shock and slight fear. It almost immediately turns into an expression of denial as she switches your position to keep your head on the raised seafloor. 

It seems she didn’t want to drown you anymore. Your verbalized enlightening words nurtured those little seeds of doubt she tried to stomp out.

“That’s wrong, it has to be. I hate you, I must hate you! I can’t love someone who harmed me. There’s no other choice, I have to hate you.” A strong denial, but it’s all a front. The fear in her eyes is as clear as the silver moon above you.

Why, oh why did you have to deal with a little kid figuring out their feelings in this sort of situation? Just like when adults claim that a boy bullies a girl he likes. You now had to deal with Shenhe’s ‘hatred’ due to her emotionally stunted childhood. 

Your luck just couldn’t get any greater!

“I can’t love you. I can’t love someone who hurts me, not again.” Shenhe stares down at you as tears begin to slide down her cheeks. Staring blankly up at her, your mind seems to connect the dots on why she’s so against loving you.

Just like most trauma, it all starts with the parents. Her father’s stupid and abusive decision still has her in a chokehold.

Perhaps if this was a different situation, a different day, you could have dealt with her feelings gently. Slowly talking to her to accept these new emotions. Pushing past any barriers and lousy facades she might use to escape your kind words of advice.

But that wasn’t going to happen. Not today, not tomorrow, and probably not for a long while. The water around you has the faintest pink hue, no doubt from all your wounds being reopened. Your ears still ring and your lungs still make your chest heave with effort to regain proper ventilation.

Shenhe’s tears drip down your cheeks as she gazes down at you with watery eyes. The beautiful mirage of colors is swamped with salty droplets as her lips quiver.

Distantly, you count this as the second time you’ve made a Cryo vision holder cry at your words. The love you held for the characters back then has all but been buried deep inside you at this point. You will not survive in this world clinging to your past love for them all.

The petrification crumbles away with Shenhe too lost in her mind and heart to realize. Your dominant hand carefully releases her wrist before clenching around a familiar weight. 

If she’s the one with the Cryo vision, then why is it that you’re the one looking coldly at her?

“But you do love me, and living with those confusing emotions is what it means to be human. To be mortal.” With a swish of your sickle crackling with electricity, the blunt side makes direct contact with Shenhe’s temple. Eyes rolling to the back of her head, she collapses onto the water as her body jostles wildly from the electricity.

You aren’t afraid of the Electro hurting you. The trust you place in Teyvat to not hurt you is justified as the Electro doesn’t shock you, even as you grab Shenhe and drag her onto land.

The love you felt for all the characters isn’t being calculated in your decision. Shenhe dying, especially at your hands, is a recipe for disaster. You try to ignore the ache you feel at the thought of Shenhe's cold and rotting body in a coffin.

Touching the back of your head, you pull your hand back into view and grimace at the freckled blood dotting it. Multiple bruises, lacerations, a puncture wound in your chest, the leftover ice lodged in your lower legs, and now a head injury too? 

Maybe getting a fracture or broken bone will balance out your injuries. 

A slightly bitter chuckle leaves you as you open the game screen again. You only try once to teleport but as expected, it fails to work. Sighing and resisting your rising frustration, you resume your journey to the closest waypoint.

A strong smell of iron and salt clings to you, you're cold and wet but it’s bearable. Bearable compared to the pulses of pain that torment you as you amble to the halfway point of the lake.

The sound of treasure hoarders laughing and clinking of coins throws you off. Even from this distance, you can count at least five hoarders. An impossible battle in your state, you would surely die trying to get past them.

It’s hard to forget how many people they’ve kept in cages, robbed, murdered, and even implied to sexually assault. 

Dread and loathing bubble up to the point where you’re almost positive that if you opened your mouth, acid would come out. Doing your best to disregard the pain, cold, exhaustion, and fury you turn around and walk back. 

Farther down south is supposed to be where another teleport waypoint is built. Supposedly: it’s right above the Chasm in Lumberpick Valley. Just some climbing, not like you can’t push your bleeding body a little farther, and then a straight shot to the waypoint. 

Checking the game screen one last time to be absolutely sure, you start your journey. You avoid looking at Shenhe’s peaceful appearing body laying on the grass. Mindlessly your hands apply your leftover medical supplies to your battered body.

There’s no time to rest. No time to stir on what direction to go, on how you should react to Yelan if she appears. No time to collapse on the soft grass and just let yourself bleed to death.

Yelan was bound to be on your heels and you would be damned to let her be the death of you.

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

Sweat dripped down your skin as your haggard breathing could be faintly heard. Knuckles pale from the tight grip you enforced, you pulled yourself up over the last ledge.

You couldn't just backtrack and go back the way you came, the chance of running into Yelan or other enemies was too high, so now you were stuck climbing hill after hill.

Crawling away from the edge, you pick yourself up tiredly. Wincing from the throbbing pain in your head, you held it gently. The bandages wrapped haphazardly around it were slightly bloody. 

Each drop of ruby and ticking second was precious. You didn't have much energy left.

Following the vague instructions you remember from looking at the map, you followed the hill down. As you got closer, the sound of conversation was recognized.

Slowing down, you crouched low and laid down near the edge closest to the waypoint.

Two treasure hoarders stood below walking together. Scanning them up and down, you noted the crossbow and throwing knives arming them.The men stopped almost directly below you making a smile creep onto your face. 

Your specialty was gathering information. To be more specific, blackmail. 

And while you doubt they know any good blackmail, whatever they know could be useful.

"Isn't it great that we finally got word from Brass Bull and Flower? I was so sure that we would never receive another letter after what happened…"

"You shouldn't speak about Big Sis and Flower that way! I mean, the Madam from the Treasure Hoarder Association came in person on Big Sis's request."

"What are you doing trying to scold me while openly referring to Brass Bull as Big Sis?!"

The hoarders squabble with each other below you as you stir on their words. A Madam from the Treasure Hoarder's Association? That doesn't seem suspicious on the surface layer but from what you remember…

There never was a Treasure Hoarder Association in the game. The most impressive thing about them was how disorganized yet large their group is. 

Keeping a hand over your mouth to halt the manic giggle from escaping, your eyes gleam with malice.

Everyone has some sort of tell when they lie. Experienced liars have learned to hide their physical tell but that makes it evolve into something else. A pattern for lying, a favorite lie to rely on.

And if you remember correctly, Yelan almost always claims to be a part of some organization while conveniently avoiding her name.

All that built up excitement at seeing past Yelan's lie falls the moment you realize that she must be near the waypoint. Maybe you should just turn back?

Standing back up you grimace at the blades of grass dotted with crimson. You were losing blood at a rate too fast to play it safe. At most you had another two hours, and that was without combat in the equation.

Ignoring the dull spikes of pain from your skull, you keep low and sneak past the treasure hoarders. The various large rocks and swaying trees served as a good concealment. The night sky was just another bonus that helped you along.

The path clears and after walking a bit on edge, you slowly rise to your full height.

There wasn't another soul in sight.

As much as you would like to be suspicious and keep to the shadows, you couldn't afford to be so guarded. Merely thanking your lucky stars, you follow the path quickly.

Slowing down, you come across a wooden structure with stairs leading up to the teleport waypoint. The blue glow was a comforting sight. Finally, you can try to escape this place by activating it.

With one more wary glance around the area, you quietly climb the stairs. Not a sound is heard as you dash closer to the waypoint and reach your hand out.

Chills run down your spine and Teyvat cries out in your mind with what sounded like an animalistic scream. The glimmer of something shiny blue comes from the teleport waypoint but it's too late.

Not even your instincts can push your lightheaded and muddled mind to process the situation fast enough.

Hydro lifelines cut into your hands, letting your blood reveal the criss-cross patterned trap guarding the waypoint.

A yelp of pain leaves you from the burn of your nerves and you startle back just in time to not get your face smashed into it.

The lifelines move to wrap around your limbs and fling you back. There's a split second of being airborne, your heavy body floats for felt like an eternity.

Until your back collides with the insignificant stack of crates that break at your weight. Splinters tear your worn out clothing and stab into your back. It's not deep but the blood is obvious. Pain floods your senses and your ear

The remaining crates fall onto your face and there's a sickening crack of your nose. All you can do is gasp from the pain and bite back tears.

"A little birdie told me of someone messing with the Creator's holy structures. Those who aren't chosen by the Creator can't touch them."

Even through the blinding pain, ringing ears and bloody spit, you make sure to bite out "Just like you?"

Yelans blurry figure enters your vision that fades in and out of consciousness. What a shame that you couldn't see the snarl her lips curled into.

Lifelines pull you by your wrists into a standing position. Blood rushes to your head, causing you to gasp from the sharp spikes of pain. Your vision comes back into focus, showcasing a smirking Yelan. 

Clean and bandaged, the exact opposite of you.

“Keep them still, don’t bother with the rope. Restraints would be wasted on a captive as beat up as them.” The off-hand words are followed by the lifelines breaking away and leaving you to sway. Almost immediately, a larger pair of hands grab your arms and force them behind your back. Calloused fingers dig into your wrist to hold them still, the lacerations throb at the rough handling.

Not bothering to fight the new hold, you slowly turn your head to examine your surroundings. What was once an empty platform is now filled with treasure hoarders. Both possible exits are blocked off by groups as Yelan stands in front of you with her back turned.

“We got them, Madam! This is who we needed to capture to finally be connected with the Fatui, right? With this masked target caught, we can get Big Sis and Flower back!” A cheerful treasure hoarder speaks up first. Perhaps he's the leader for this bunch of hoarders?

The rest of the hoarders chime in too, big smiles stretch across their faces as they celebrate. The names ‘Brass Bull’ and ‘Flower’ are mentioned multiple times as they grow louder and more excited.

“Oh yeah?” Even with Yelan’s back to you, the smile in her voice is easily heard by you.

“Then it’s almost a shame to say that I caught the rest of you too.” The confused and wary expressions turn into realization as lifelines appear all around the treasure hoarders. The hands around your wrists tighten up as you peek up at the hoarder holding you captive.

Silent and still, the masked hoarder tightens his grip on you as the other members begin to fight back against Yelan. Only some though, most are too scared to move and get filled by the laser-beam structured lifelines.

Yelan, as calm as still water, walks to the stronger hoarders, determining them as the only threats. The noise in the area heightens as fighting ensures but your mind seems to work properly amidst the confusion. Fingers twitching with the desire to hold your sickle and break free from the flimsy man’s hold, you take a shaky breath. Not yet, you tell yourself, just one more step and then you can break free.

Yells of anger and betrayal ring out as the hoarders curse Yelan out. The names Brass Bull and Flower are spoken with so much affection that the familiar tug on your memory finally makes sense.

A past Genshin event involving the traveler helping the Milleth arrest a group of treasure hoarders comes to mind. As per usual: it ended with the Traveler arresting the leaders Brass Bull and Flower, along with what seemed to be their full group.

Seems this group was just the leftover that must have been somewhere else during the time of the event. They’re simply the leftovers that Yelan is obliged to clean up. Yelan never helps an enemy without helping herself first.

“I almost feel bad for you all.” A dry chuckle leaves you after speaking as the hoarder holding you shoots you a nervous glance. 

What easy prey.

“Did you really believe that Madam so easily? Brass Bull’s letter has to leave the Milleth prison meaning anyone could have peeked into the contents. Forging a letter to catch you all is just one possibility. It would be even easier to just replace the true Madam to infiltrate for any information you might withhold in captivity.”

His body stiffens up and his eyes look down at you with not quite a glare but something harder than a stare. “H-How did you kno-”

“About the letter? Yelan, or rather your fake Madam, bragged to me about it of course. A public servant for the Ministry of Affairs like Yelan can’t help but flaunt her misdeeds.” There’s a wariness in his eyes as he stares at you, his guard is lowering by the second.

Tone shifting into annoyance, you continue. “Don’t give me that look, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’, don’t you know that? I was the one undercover to bring the real Madam back here. When I couldn’t find her, that's when I met Yelan.”

Biting your bleeding lip, your expression scrunches into one of anger as treasure hoarder after treasure hoarder are sent flying. “Yelan explained in detail how she tortured my dear Madam for information, all while inflicting these wounds on me. I’m not surprised to see that she infiltrated your group by lying her ass off.” His brows begin to furrow and his hands begin to steady.

“You wanna know something else?” His nod makes you smile widely and much like a devil to a wronged soul you whisper into his ear. “The Fatui you all were supposed to meet on Brass Bull’s orders have already been taken care of by Yelan. She could have just captured you all without any unnecessary fighting, but she wanted to betray you all.”

“Just like how she helped the Traveler arrest everyone all that time ago…” 

His complexion turns red as he releases your hands quickly and grabs the sledgehammer hanging from his waist. He sprints swinging it widely while yelling-

“-That woman is a fake! A fraud! She’s responsible for the past arrest and now this arrest!” Yelan jumps back, barely escaping a broken jaw as he continues to yell. “She’s the one responsible for Brass Bull and Flower’s sentence! Everything from then and now is all her fault!”

That knowledge makes every treasure hoarder's eyes grow in size and lock in on Yelan. Your hands pick up your bag from the floor as the hoarders lunge for Yelan.

Emerald eyes, wide and panicked, lock onto your tired yet satisfied ones as you send a shit-eating grin her way. ‘Eat shit’ you mouthed to her before watching the remnants of the group jump her.

It felt great, amazing even, to give her a taste of her own medicine after what happened with Shenhe.  

Only the smallest bits and pieces of wood were stuck in your back as you lug the back onto your shoulder. Flexing your body despite the pain and slight sway, you survey the battlefield.

You still needed to touch that damn waypoint.

“Ugh!” With a wince, you press a hand against your head before ducking as a blue arrow whizzes above you. Your skull sends sharp jolts of pain down your body as your back grows wet with blood.

This battlefield was too risky, every hoarder was blindly shooting and Yelan was still targeting you! 

Putting pressure on your calves that still drip with blood and melted ice, you march through the battle. Limbs and heavy bodies bump into you harshly as weapons narrowly hit your fragile body.

With laser focus on the teleport waypoint, you escape the constantly moving current of fighting and come into proximity of the waypoint. The cool feel of the waypoint is soothing against your feverishly hot fingertips, just when did you get this hot?

A gold glow shines from the teleport waypoint as you wretch your fingers away quickly, uncaring how your ruby blood left its mark on the object.

Shit, shit! How could you forget?!

The battle stills as everyone’s eyes are drawn to the dimming glow and new color of the waypoint. Yelan stares at you past the remaining hoarders before you jump to the side when multiple Hydro projectiles are shot at you.

It snaps the treasure hoarders back into reality as they glare at Yelan again. Taking advantage of what little time you can get, your body moves automatically to the closest exit.

Only to stop as the lingering hoarders who are too scared to fight Yelan but feel too guilty to run away aim at you with pale complexions. “D-Don’t come any closer!”

A bloody and messy unknown traveler on the other hand? The chance of them actually shooting you is high. Spitting out the blood pooling into your mouth, you back away from them. Turning back, you try the other exit but it’s just as bad.

Neither way was going to let you through and Yelan was starting to seriously cut down on their numbers. The small mountain next to you was starting to look increasingly tempting…

A passed out treasure hoarder is flung in your direction by unstable lifelines with you pressing your aching body against the stone to avoid getting hit. Your skull hits the stone and your mind goes blank for a hot minute.

Did you really have any time to be picky? You weren’t even sure if the waypoint would even work.

Sucking in a painful breath, you wrap your cut up fingers around the rocks and begin to climb. Sweat rolled off your feverish body as every movement made waves of pain wash over your body.

Blood dripped from your nose, spilled out of your mouth, and mixed with the slightly bloody dents you got from Yelan’s nails. Hot stings pricked at your head as the bruises beneath your body made itself remembered.

Finally at the top, you pull yourself up and gaze at the Chasm as the cool night air nipped at your skin bringing sweet relief. Lumbering closer to the ledge toward the Chasm to avoid any stray arrows, your fingers tremble slightly as it brings up the map.

Strange, when did you start trem- “Argh!” The cry is pulled from your lips as an arrow pierces your back. The pain and force behind it is too great forcing your body to collapse to the ground.

Your broken nose makes contact with the groan pulling a pained groan from you. Weakly, you roll to your side as heels begin to head your way. Body sore and sensitive, your eyes stare up at Yelan’s casual stride.

She’s slow and beaten up too. That arrogant smile is gone and those demeaning eyes have changed into something akin to hatred. Pulling yourself up as she stops just a few feet away, you watch her draw her bow.

Taking a step back just to get some distance, maybe even enough to dodge, it’s stopped short when all you can feel is the edge beneath you. 

It’s a dead end.

Yelan is quiet as she aims at you, her trembling bloody fingers are more than enough proof of how far you pushed her. Should you be satisfied seeing someone who basically had their whole life play out like you wanted and craved suffer?

“I guess you really will be known as a hero, Yelan, just like your ancestors.” The words are sad and bitter on your tongue. A sharp contrast to the iron taste as you cough up blood.

“It cough must be nice! Knowing that every-cough thing in your life worked out in the end! Hack” A clot of blood is forced out of your throat as Yelan narrows her eyes at you.

“I hope you thank the Creator every damn day for the people in your life…” A sardonic wet laugh leaves you as your body shakes. “Especially Ningguang as she's the reason you didn't have to struggle to find a new job.”

A bloody coughing fit consumes you and pain accompanies it as the bow’s tension is released. 

The incoming arrow isn’t something you can avoid or block, the force of it pushes you off the edge. Time slows down as you blankly watch Yelan’s form begin to get smaller from above you.

You have no energy to panic, just a faint realization of your quickly coming death and a conflicting feeling of acceptance. The wind howls in your ears and the world blurs together, all you can truly see is the starry sky above you.

Is this how you will die? Is this how you want to die?

No, maybe you should at least be thankful that you’ll be dying from being a liar rather than being an imposter.

Would that make your death more acceptable in your eyes?

Your body is weightless and the pain you suffered from no longer torments your body. Closing your eyes, you let all those lingering worries fade away.

.

.

.

.

Why weren’t you dead yet?

Opening your eyes, you find that your fall is a lot slower than before. It’s gotten softer from a howl to a murmur in your ears. Aches begin to plague you as pressure compresses your body and lungs.

Rocks and other edges move past you and the incredible thing you realize is that you’re floating. Will you actually survive? Is there a big difference between falling to your death and floating to it?

Struggling to breathe through the thin air and blood in your mouth, no scream of pain can leave your lips as your back meets the grass. Several cracks can be felt and a tip of the arrow pushes through your body until the metal tip pierces your lung.

The pain is unbearable as you lie there helpless. 

Teyvat traded a quick painful death of being splattered and compressed on the ground for a slow painful death of bleeding out? 

‘What a fucking joke!’ You think to yourself as tears run down your face, and your skin turns cool and clammy. Warm blood seeps through your clothing and it begins to form a sticky puddle beneath you.

Skull aching as your spotty vision fades in and out, the several new broken bones that leave you unable to move, and the agonizing pain of something stabbing your insides as blood bubbles in your mouth?

It’s torture, you conclude. You’re fated to die a torturous death no matter what.

“...herbs….here…” It’s a slight mumble that you can’t hear.

“Maybe…here?” A little closer and the voice catches your slowly dying consciousness.

“The last herb is here.” A slow, childlike voice reaches your ears and you turn barely enough to watch a zombie-child walk your way.

A small basket is stiff in her hands filled with plants. “I need to gather the herb.” She speaks not quite to you but past you.

To a snow-white Qingxin, the petals droop beautifully dotted with crimson beads of your blood. Qiqi walks closer with empty eyes unflinching as her shoes are stained with your blood.

Qiqi can carry Xiao and she goes straight to Baizhu who is not only a healer, but also the best doctor. This agony and suffering would be worth going through if you would actually live. 

The only thing in the way was her current order... 

Good thing you already know how to cancel it.

Qiqi’s stiff fingers wrap around the stem and freeze when your larger, shaking one's weakly lay on hers. Dull pink eyes look up at you as if seeing you for the first time. Her pupils widen minuscule as your warm eyes stare back.

Forcing a small bloody smile, you weakly whisper sweetly. “Qiqi, I love you most.”

The basket in her other hand drops to the ground but Qiqi’s eyes never stray from yours. Her small grip on the stem stiffens and you continue. “It’s true Qiqi, I love you most.”

“But I won’t be able to love you if I die here. Bring me to Baizhu.”

Her eyes dull immediately and she releases her grip on the herb. “Order received.”

With that, she takes the arrows embedded in your chest and snaps the majority of the parts sticking out. The pain you feel from Qiqi’s lack of restraint isn’t unbearable but the continuous feeling of your conscious fading scares you.

Within a minute Qiqi has you on her back with your arms draped over her front as she holds your legs up. The position is painful as her readjustment and movement make the leftover arrows in you jolt, but it works.

Not a single part of your body is dragging on the floor and she even has your bag hanging from her neck. It would be a cute sight if she wasn’t going to hike back to Bubu’s Pharmacy carrying a dying body.

You admittedly held some negative feelings towards Baizhu for using that method of canceling orders. He may take good care of Qiqi but he only loves her as a patient, rather than as a parent.

Qiqi hikes back with no stumbles or enemies in the way. Even with your weight, she walks as if unburdened. That doesn’t stop the mind-numbing sting plaguing you and your body.

What right do you have to judge Baizhu for giving Qiqi false parental love for his own benefit? You’ve now done the same exact thing. If anything, you should know better. 

You don’t have much time left as your head sags onto her, your consciousness is at the brink. Unknowingly your thoughts begin to spill out in a hoarse voice “Sorry Qiqi, I shouldn’t have said that. What I should say is sorry.”

With that, everything fades to black.

This was one long chapter, but I did not want to split and risk losing the momentum. I'm happy to conclude this women hunting you down arc! I swear this chapter was done when I was freed from the shadowban, it just took a long time to edit. Thank you to my editor for helping me edit this document from hell. It definitely would have taken at least another few days. Next chapter might take a bit longer as I have to finish Baizhu's story quest for a proper view of him. I'll admit that my series can get confusing so if there is any questions, feel free to ask! I appreciate all the likes, comments and reblogs!

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[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask

Chapter Eleven - Going Home

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

Warnings: Smut! Cheating!

1.7K words

Series Masterlist

Where the fuck was Oscar?

It took four days before Y/N was stomping through Carlos' house, heading towards his office.

It was only recognisable by how heavily it was usually guarded. Not today though.

Pushing up her sleeves, Y/N mustered all of the courage she had and pushed her way into Carlos' office.

"Okay, where the f"

But she stopped in her tracks when she looked at her husband.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Against the desk was a woman, one Y/N recognised to be a member of the kitchen staff. Carlos' eyes snapped towards the door when Y/N walked in. He continued to thrust, his pace bruising as he stared at his wife.

The woman hadn't noticed Y/N as she laid flat on the desk, breasts bouncing with his thrusts.

"Can I help you, Querida?" Carlos asked, his pace never faltering.

The woman let out a particularly loud moan and threw her head back. She must have felt somebody else in the room, because she opened her eyes, seeing Y/N standing there.

"Mi señora! ¡Dios mío, señora mía!" The woman cried as she shuffled back on the desk, pushing Carlos away as she did so.

The woman gathered up her clothes and ran out of the office. Carlos simply pulled up his trousers and buckled his belt, sitting in his desk chair. "Can I help you?" He tried again.

But Y/N was still just standing there, her mouth open in shock. She knew it wasn't a marriage of love, but she never expected this.

When she said nothing, Carlos went back to his paperwork. Like he cared for nothing, he scribbled his signature across papers and dismissed her from the room.

Y/N obeyed. With her fists clenched at her side, she marched out of the office and down the hall, down to her room. Surely this had to be grounds for divorce. Surely this meant she could go home. Surely… Surely…

No. This happened in every Mafia marriage. Unless it was born out of love, the wives were nothing more than ornaments, decorations to make the mafia leaders look better. Carlos cheating on her would only mean something if he really loved her. But he didn’t. Their marriage meant nothing, and she meant nothing.

There wasn’t much that could make things worse for her. She was stuck a house that didn’t feel like her own, surrounded by people that could easily kill her, with a husband that didn’t love her.

But, as life always did, it made things worse. So much fucking worse.

After three hours stewing alone in her room, there was a knock at the door.

“Go away!” Y/N shouted as she turned away from the door. “I don’t want to see you!”

But it wasn’t Carlos that threw open her bedroom door. Señora Sainz, as Y/N was supposed to call her, opened the door. “I have some news for you, Y/N,” she said, letting herself into the room.

“So, what, you’re not going to test me on my Spanish now?” Y/N spat as she looked towards the window.

Señora Sainz shook her head. “It’s about your father.”

Y/N turned towards her. Her tone wasn’t filling Y/N with a lot of confidence. She looked towards her mother in law, her breath hitching. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said and strode forward to wrap her arms around Y/N. “Pack your things, you and Carlos are going home tonight.”

“No,” Y/N said instantly. “I’ll go alone. Carlos doesn’t need this distraction.”

But Carlos had to go. All of the Mafia bosses either had to go or send somebody in their place. Sainz was sending Carlos, since Y/N had to go already.

Silently, she packed her things. There really was no getting away from Carlos.

Before midnight Y/N and Carlos were on the private jet, heading to the UK. They didn’t sit near each other, at least not at first. She made a point of sitting as far away from Carlos as she could. But then, as they got closer and closer to England, Y/N stood.

She stretched her limbs and walked across the plane taking a seat beside Carlos. “This is my fathers funeral,” she said and Carlos looked up at her. “And I don’t want to see you. We’ll have to sit beside each other at the ceremony, but, other than that, I want you to stay away from me.”

Carlos chucked and shook his head. “Querida, you must have realised if I wasn’t fucking you, I’d have to be fucking something else,” he said and crossed one leg over the other.

She ignored it, pushing on. “And, you’re going to tell me what happened to Oscar. I know he’s not in Spain anymore, so you’re going to tell me where he is.”

Again, Carlos shook his head. He stood suddenly, his hands on the arms of Y/N’s seats as he leaned over her. “You’re forgetting who’s in charge here, Señora Sainz,” he growled with a wicked grin.

They didn’t break eye contact. Y/N’s chest was heaving, but she wasn’t going to back down. Not in this rare moment of bravery. “I’d divorce you if I could,” she spat.

Carlos laughed again. He sat back in his seat and let out a laugh. “You know, querida, you are funny. Have you ever heard of a divorce in our world? No? Because they don’t happen. The only way you’re going to leave me is if you’re dead.”

When they touched down in England, it was cold and miserable. But it was always cold and miserable.

Y/N couldn't look at Carlos as they drove back to the house she had grown up in. She kept her focus on the radio. Carlos didn’t try and make conversation, and Y/N was grateful. She couldn’t talk to him at that moment.

When they pulled up at the Norris house, Y/N quickly jumped out of the car. She ran up the steps and through the front door, two men grabbing her arms as soon as she ran through them. But, as soon as she realised who she was, they let go of her.

Leaving Carlos behind, Y/N marched her way through the house. If Lando was going to be anywhere he was going to be in his fathers – no, his office. It was his office now, just as he was head of the family.

He wasn’t Lando anymore. He was Norris.

The office wasn’t guarded like Carlos’s was. Lando didn’t need it. Y/N knocked gently and pushed her way into the office.

As soon as Lando saw his sister, he was on his feet, walking over to her to wrap her in her embrace. No longer was Lando this ruthless guy, not compared to Carlos. Lando squeezed his arms around his sister. “I’m so happy you’re here,” Lando whispered as he kissed the top of her head. “How is married life treating you?”

“Lan, please,” Y/N mumbled, cheek pressed against his jacket. “Dad is dead and the man I’m married to is the last thing I want to talk about,” she answered.

Lando nodded his head. “I’ve had a separate room set up for him,” he said and Y/N thanked him. “Do you know how long you’re staying for?”

“No,” she answered as he sat back behind his desk. Y/N sat in one of the chairs opposite him, not missing the way that Lando tucked his paperwork back into its folder.

“Well, the heads of family are having a meeting at the end of the week, so you and Carlos will have to stay for that,” Lando said, nails drumming against the wood of his desk.

Her arms were crossed over her chest as she looked towards the window behind him. “I don’t want to go back,” she whispered. “Oscar isn’t even there anymore, and I don’t know what to do without him.”

Lando sucked in a breath. “Oscar is… back in Australia. With Mark.”

“What?!” Y/N jumped up out of her seat. “What do you mean Oscar is in Australia? Why is he in Australia?”

“It’s what’s best for his safety.”

“Did he decide this? Or did you decide this?” She asked, hands on the desk as she leaned towards her brother. “Or, better yet, did Carlos decide this?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s happened, and there’s nothing any of us can do about it.”

***

No, Oscar did not decide to go back to Australia. After he’d had the shit beaten out of him by Carlos’s men, he went back to Australia, back to Mark.

He could have gone back to England, could have gone back to the Norris family, but what would Lando do? He was the one who had given his sister away. But Mark, Mark was the most powerful man in Australia. Mark could do something about it.

Oscar hadn’t grown up in a crime family. He’d grown up relatively normally, but when he’d gotten into some trouble as a kid, Mark gave him his only option. To join the Webber family, to train up through the ranks, and then to go off to England to work in a different family. He was meant to be a mole, but the Norris family had nothing to hide, nothing they were keeping from Webber.

But Oscar was assigned to Y/N, to looking out for her, watching over her. When She went off to Spain he went with her, protecting her, watching over her.

Oscar knew how he felt before they went to Spain. He knew how he felt and he could do anything about it. And then he met Carlos. Carlos was terrifying, but Oscar wasn’t scared. He’d dealt with worse than Carlos.

But now he was back in Australia, sat in front of Mark as he went over the blueprints of Carlos’s house. He’d only spent two weeks there, but he’d learnt everything he needed to know. The entrances and exits, where all of the men were stationed and everybody’s schedules.

If anybody could fuck up the Sainz family, it was Oscar.

And that was exactly what he was going to do.

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