#running out of methods to save his nation

[lovewithoutagony]

soooooo badly need to write simebarb vampire au but i can't think of an interesting plot

[zukkathirst]

Hi everyone, thank you so much for taking part in the Zukka Thirst NSFW weekend! As promised, here is our masterlist of amazing fanworks created for the weekend, and we wanted to put them together here one easy post for clicking!

Before I begin we just want to thank the creators who took part - this was a fun weekend to run and we hope you had fun too, and that you enjoyed sprinkling a little bit of spice into our Zukka hotpot!

We've popped the list under a read-more to save dash space, but under the cut you'll find a compilation of all the great stuff that came (😏) out of the weekend. Each work comes with its own individual warnings and tags on it, so please read before scrolling down - or if in doubt, browse the AO3 collection instead! We've also included links to the promo post(s) for each piece on tumblr if you'd like to reblog directly from the author or artist. And obvious caveat - all these creations are not worksafe!!

And without further ado... the fanworks!

Title: Blowjob Creator: @umossu on tumblr | 1mossplease on AO3 Summary: They blow each other :-) Links: AO3 Preview:

Title: Just Get On Your Knees (Say Pretty Please) Creator: @erisenyo on tumblr | erisenyo on AO3 Summary: Zuko has a crush. Detective Wang Fire is on the case. And Sokka--Sokka might have a few questions, too, once he gets past how fun it is to see Zuko so flustered. Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:

“Don’t worry, love,” Sokka tosses over his shoulder, smirking as Zuko’s heat licks up his back. “Second place is still good enough to get your dick w—wait. Mine?” Zuko tumbles Sokka onto the bed. “Yours?” “You said mine doesn’t have posters.” Sokka shoves his loose hair out of his face, rolling onto his back just in time for Zuko to straddle him. “Meaning yours. Your—crush? You have a crush?”

Title: A Primer on How to Make Tax Codes, Trade Taffirs, and Asset Management Sexy Creator: Escyn on tumblr | Escyn on AO3 Summary: NSWF art inspired by Erisenyo’s Lessons in Proper Asset Management Links: AO3 Preview:

Title: high-strung Creator: @ranilla-bean on tumblr | ranilla-bean on AO3 Summary: Sokka gives Zuko a maths lesson. Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:

Sokka’s eyebrow rose. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. What was he up to? Zuko’s breath hitched; his fingers dug into the lotus silk of his robe. He had never quite managed to become immune to Sokka’s charms. A playful brown hand reached into the bag and pulled out— Well, Zuko wasn’t sure what it was.

Title: Piercings Creator: @umossu on tumblr | 1mossplease on AO3 Summary: Zuko gets ALL the piercings. Sokka approves. Links: AO3 Preview:

Title: Enhanced Interrogation Creator: @watertribe-inventor-guy on tumblr | Fishstick_LBT on AO3 Summary: It's dick. The advanced interrogation method is Fire Lord dick. Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:

Title: Nice Contrast Creator: @aimrwv on tumblr | AIMRWV on AO3 Summary: Suki mentions Sokka’s involvement in an underground movement for sexual liberation within the Fire Nation and Zuko wonders why his closest friend had never bothered telling him about it.

He finds out the "hard" way. Links: AO3 link Preview:

“Sorry that I wasn’t super excited to talk about my less conventional sex-life with a happily married straight man who also just happens to be the Fire Lord and – wait – my employer.” Sokka said, the bite behind his words was clearly for show but Zuko decided to play along.   “Employer” He snorted. “Do you really think that I treat anyone else in this palace like I treat you? I can assure you you’re the only one of my employees who is allowed to sit on my private balcony and share carafe after carafe of this nation’s finest wine with me. That’s how I treat friends, Sokka. And also, I think, as the regent monarch, I should know about underground movements in my country.”

Title: Cooling down (and heating right back up again) Creator: Escyn on tumblr | Escyn on AO3 Summary: NSFW art inspired by SyciaraLynx's Married Zukka Banging it Out Series Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:

Title: Zukka Thirst Weekend Creator: @shesmykindofboi on tumblr | chibicthulhu on AO3 Summary: Drawing for zukka thirst prompt event on tumblr, literally the first nsfw art I’ve ever done. Fun! Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:

Title: up with the sun Creator: @dickpuncherdraws on tumblr | dickpuncher420 on ao3 Summary: Sokka wakes up feeling frisky. Links: AO3 link | tumblr promo post Preview:

Title: Unfulfilled Needs Creator: @baileynono on tumblr | baileynono on AO3 Summary: Sokka and Zuko come to the realisation that they desperately need to fuck. However, there are only very few moments where the Fire Lord won't be interrupted. Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:

“So, mighty Fire Lord, how has this evening been treating you?” Zuko scrunches up his face. “I didn’t escape a bunch of nonsense to hear you spout some more.” “Oh, please. You love it even when I talk all fancy to you.” Sokka receives a glare and a squeeze on his shoulders as Zuko very pointedly avoids his face. “Come on, I asked you a question! How has this evening been?”

Title: Doodles that embarrass me Creator: blu3berrydraws on tumblr | Blu3berry on AO3 Summary: this is a dump for spicy sketches that ill never finish or refine all of them are NSFW ! They feature nudity and sexual acts ! Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:

Title: Jockey Creator: @umossu on tumblr | 1mossplease on AO3 Summary: Zuko gets pounded into the bed Links: AO3 Preview:

Title: Zukka Smut Compilation Creator: @ash-and-starlight on tumblr | Summary: A place where I can gather my nsfw zukka art, starting off with entries for the Zukka Thirst Weekend over on Tumblr

1) Frotting + fem!zukka 2) Hickeys + modern au 3) Spooning 4) Blowjob + t4t zukka 5) Rimming + a scene from ranilla_bean's "in flammam flammas" Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post 1 | tumblr promo post 2 | tumblr promo post 3 Preview:

Title: golden apple of my eye Creator: @glycopyrrolate on tumblr | aiyah on AO3 Summary: Sokka has a fantastic idea. Zuko obliges. Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:

But what if? Stupid ideas mean stupid decisions. Sokka’s the type of guy to think about stupid shit when he really shouldn’t. It usually comes back to bite him in the ass.

Title: hit the back Creator: @dickpuncherdraws on tumblr | dickpuncher420 on ao3 Summary: Zuko knows how to treat her girl right. Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:

Title: helping hand Creator: @ranilla-bean on tumblr | ranilla-bean on AO3 Summary: Sokka wears Zuko like a glove puppet. 🤜 Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:

Back home, they had, well, objects for this. All sorts of lewd things not meant for polite eyes that they could cram out of sight into all sorts of holes. At Kuei’s palace, they did not. But Sokka was looking thoughtful. “Wait… We might not have our toys, but…” He held up a hand and waggled it. “We could improvise?”

Title: Zukka Thirst Event Creator: @arandin-art on tumblr | nekoppi on AO3 Summary: My art participation to the Zukka Thirst Weekend. Links: AO3 | tumblr post Preview:

Title: You are going to carry that weight Creator: Escyn on tumblr | Escyn on AO3 Summary: Smutty mostly art that took on a life of its own. Ft. Sokka as a cowboy, Zuko as a samurai, scruffy middle-aged men looking for a second chance, and a non-insurmountable language barrier. Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post | tumblr promo post 2 Preview:

"When my lover left me for another man, I, ah, killed both him and his new lover. I felt much, how do you say it, lighter? Yes, lighter." The stranger peers at Sokka though his lashes, golden gaze assessing what Sokka can only guess is a look of utter bewilderment on his face. Heartbreak had driven Sokka away from the only home he ever knew, to a foreign land with only his flask and a letter of introduction to a cattle rancher to his name. The letter had lead him here, on a train to the middle of nowhere, the Eurasian plain flying by. The flask had him spilling his guts to this unsuspecting stranger. A stranger who maybe just admitted to murder, whose pretty pink lips demand all of Sokka's attention, he wants them wrapped around his-- "Would doing that also help you?" Sokka sputters, moving the flask away from his lips. Coughing, he feels the low alcohol buzz in his stomach transform into something hot and churning. So many questions, but only one passes his lips. "Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Title: Zukka Thirsty Weekend Creator: @chiptrillino Summary: Collection of drawings for the characters sokka and zuko, based on the prompt bingo from the zukka thirst event on tumblr. Links: AO3 Preview:

Title: Fuck me Juliet Creator: @umossu on tumblr | 1mossplease on AO3 Summary: Zuko is horny and Sokka is saying something. Then Sokka is horny, and Zuko is saying something. Then they're both talking. Then they're fucking. Links: AO3 Preview:

The moonlight shines only on Sokka's right side: one eye, bluer than the ocean spirit, stares back at him. Zuko forgets to breathe for a moment. When Sokka's fingers slide down his neck, it brings him back to his senses, and Zuko asks, "Can I–" They're kissing. 

[discordiansamba]

have you considered.... vampire zuko

taking him away from the sun! mean to him!!!!

but. i am in fact, considering it. vampires not as undead creatures (because that brushes up a bit too close onto the bum spirit deal AU's uh... deal) but a form of a Fire Nation spirit curse. for a long time, it was simply considered a myth until some fool brought proof of its existence before Ozai and you know his ass was like

'hm. we can use this.'

so he does. the Earth Kingdom has a Fire Nation and a vampire problem. they cannot fucking win. speaking of guys who cannot win- world's unluckiest fire nation prince gets on the wrong side of one and ends up bitten and turned. but he has something on his side that most don't- and that's iroh.

iroh is going to save his nephew.

he prays to any spirit that is willing to listen to him. he will do anything they ask, if they will help his nephew. it is the moon spirit who answers- and she tasks not iroh but zuko with exterminating the vampires who are starting to become a problem. if he kills them all, she'll grant him a boon.

in short order zuko

a.) becomes a vampire

b.) learns that his father was the one behind using vampires as a method to overtake the earth kingdom

c.) becomes much more aware of the violence the fire nation is inflicting upon the world as a result

d.) uncle talks him into treason so much more easily

or: ozai's plan to use vampires to conquer the earth kingdom was going great, until the blue spirit shows up. then it is decidedly going less great. two and a half years later, the gaang will run into the blue spirit in a town that's having vampire trouble and end up working with him to get rid of it.

zuko quickly realizes a) that's the fucking avatar and b.) they don't know he's a vampire. aang takes an interest in the blue spirit and asks if he'll come with them to the north pole. zuko turns him down- his nocturnal lifestyle doesn't make him a good traveling companion. just ask uncle. they part ways there.

...then the avatar gets himself captured.

zuko sighs. breaks the avatar out. takes an arrow to the head. has a vision of the moon spirit talking to him who says she'll grant him that boon a little early, if he agrees to accompany the avatar. zuko wakes up. it's daytime, but for some reason he isn't dead. moon spirit made him a daywalker. the avatar asks zuko if he'd like to come with him again.

...sure?

[ye-olde-sodor]

Dream Canon Mallard Headcanons!

Mallard is an LNER Class A4 built in 1938, making him one of the youngest members of the Gresley Family. (Aged 62 in this au)

He holds the world record for the Fastest Steam Locomotive in the world. On July 3rd, 1938, he reached 126 mph at just a few months old!

Mallard can be arrogant and mean, but he’s generally well mannered and generous with humans and engines alike…unless an engine dares to defy the hierarchy, then it’s an entirely different case. He's also quite the Optimist, which plays into how he views serious situations.

No one tell him that Henry "Stanier" was built with stolen Gresley blueprints, he'll have a stroke. A merge of the two families would create a nation wide scandal!

He’s in charge of his own Engine Correctional Facility on the Mainland, and has 17 other facilities just like it across the UK!

This idea of correctional facilities came to him sometime after he learned of the scrapping of most of his siblings (save for Spencer and a few others). He was grief stricken, and clung to the first thing that brought him any feelings that weren’t grief and dread.

He noticed that him and a select few of his siblings were preserved because they either performed better than the rest, broke a record, had some major historic significance, or were purchased by foreign railways. It’s the first example that became Mallard’s obsession.

He wanted to give all engines another chance at life. He wanted to see if he could mold an engine to be better than their other siblings, and have them preserved. When the trial of this idea succeeded with Ryan (who was unaware of the trial and assumed he was preserved due to his ties with the other Gresleys), Mallard found his new purpose in life, his spiritual awakening one might say. He’s been operating his correctional facilities ever since.

While he has the best intentions in mind, he’s oblivious to the harm his methods of teaching may cause. He can also be full of himself when he’s convicted he’s right.

His main goal is to expand his facilities to Sodor, the bane of British Rail and to the Engine Hierarchy. He wishes to purchase it and reshape it in his own image. Mallard won’t modernize it, but he wants to bring order and essentially remove what makes Sodor stand out from other heritage lines…it’s numerous accidents and ties to the Reverend Awdry.

He's extremely close to Ryan, who he views as a son. Spencer is a close second, however. While he cares for Scott and Gordon as well, he can't let Scott's "death" get in the way of progress. He'll mourn in secret, not in public. It's the professional way to do it.

As one can probably tell, Mallard sees opportunity in everything, even in death and depression. He's an optimist by nature, and always tries to see the good in everything. Case in point, now that Mallard has part of Scott's inheritance and Gordon doesn't want to work anymore, Mallard has the perfect opportunity to go through with his Sodor Renovation plan!

When Mallard learned that Gordon was struggling to cope with the loss, he offered to take him to the Mainland to get him closer to professionals who can help him.

Spencer became roped into Mallard's scheme, but Spencer isn't too keen on the idea just like everyone else.

Thomas quickly became Mallard's "moral enemy" due to his Anti-hierarchy views. Once Mallard has control over the island's engines, Thomas will be the first one admitted to Mallard's Correctional facility. He's hoping that Ryan can whip him into shape, as he plans to have Ryan run the Sodor facility in the future.

Quotes:

Mallard: "Gordon, my dear brother-"

Gordon: "We're cousins."

Mallard: "Gordon, my dear cousin-" ____________________________________________

Mallard: "So Spencer, how's the island?"

Spencer: "Depressed, demoralized...on the brink of collapse now that Gordon got replaced by those three diesels!"

Mallard: "Oh is it now?~"

Spencer: "Please don't talk like that again-"

Mallard: "Do tell me more about Sodor's, eh...run of bad luck."

____________________________________________

Mallard: “Well look on the bright side…once you feel ready, we can return to Sodor and I get to introduce you to all the new changes I’ve made! :)”

Gordon, half listening: I suppose you’re right-wait WHAT ALL DID YOU CHANGE???”

Mallard: “Secret :3”

____________________________________________

Mallard: "So we're going to put the new Correction Facility over...Oh I don't know where to place it! Spencer, you know the island well, where would be the most optimal location for it?"

Spencer: "I wouldn't say I know it well...but if you're serious about this facility of yours, I'd place it somewhere along the Express route. There's some land near Vicarstown that's unoccupied. It'll be right next to a large yard and station for engines to train. Plus it'll be in close proximity to the Dieselworks."

Mallard: "There's a Dieselworks?! On Sodor?"

Spencer: "Calling it a Works is a bit of a stretch but yes, there is one. It's in complete disrepair though. It's any wonder those diesels despise Topham and our fellow steam engines"

Mallard: "Hmm. Good to know..."

____________________________________________

Mallard: "Y'know, I've been digging into your class lately in order to-"

Thomas: "The Hell?! What are you doing that for, you creep!"

Mallard: "...To better accommodate my courses and lessons to your class, since I've been told you're quite the water hog."

Thomas: "Oh you miserable-"

Mallard: "I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU, YOU TWIT."

____________________________________________

Edward: "We'll lose everything! Sodor's culture, it's heritage, and it's railways. You'll destroy everything that Sodor stands for if you go through with your plan!"

Mallard: "Ah, so my plan will work! What wonderful news! Now we can get started on making a new Sodor!"

Edward: ಠ_ಠ

Mallard: "One with our beloved hierarchy, no confusion or delay, and more attention to the poor and neglected diesels!"

Diesel 10: "Hell yeah! Finally, a Steamer who gets it!"

Edward: "He's using you to push his own agenda you twit! He'll forget about you once he-"

Mallard: "Step right up then, my fellow machine! Show me around the Diesel Works so I can make arrangements to give it a complete overhaul!"

Diesel 10: "Gladly Mr. eh...Mallard was it?"

Edward, under his breath: "Oh you can fuck right off..."

[iburntthewater12345]

I wanted to go more in depth about my OC then what was just in the picture

Name: Hadley

Aliases: Grease/Grease monkey

Nationality: American. Ethnicity: Half Native American and half white

Age: 20. DoB: September 30, 2004

Pronouns: She/her Gender: Female

Sexuality: Lesbian

Height: 5’4

Languages: English, Spanish, German

COD universe: Modern Warfare reboot

Branch of service: Shadow C.O

Affiliations: Shadow C.O

Specialties: Outdoor and mechanical work, Cartman impressions, and harmonica beat boxing

Personality: out going, kinda redneck(not the mean type of redneck), brutally honest, hard working, funny, flirtatious, not the brightest lightbulb in the box but kind hearted, purely golden retriever vibes

Backstory: She came from a poor family full of alcoholics and drug addicts and while her Mom was nice to her she was never really there when she needed her and she didn’t really like her Older brother cause he was always ending up in the wrong crowd ignoring her when she tried to help him but her dad was the worse cause she was practically the carbon copy of him and her dad always saw his problems in her so her would use her as a punching bag cause she couldn’t fight back and she couldn’t go to other family members because they also didn’t like the fact she was like her dad so when she was 18 she saved up money from sneaking out and doing odd jobs around town she ran away just to be found by Graves and at that point she had an addiction to chewing tobacco later getting over that addiction Graves helped her get into mechanical work, and she joined multiple trade schools to teach her how to weld work on all vehicles and wiring. She has now been with the Shadows for 2 years and has done stuff like making the tank that Graves was supposed to be in RC and has a small apartment off base.

Issues: horrible at reading the room, No filter can’t shut up, will track mud and dirt all over the place

Habits: Bites her nails when anxious, jokingly calls Graves Dad (he’s better then her real one anyway) stays up all night in the work shop 

Scars: she has extremely callused hands, and a scar that runs from her right shoulder blade to the center of her back from being attacked by a crackhead on the streets

Preferred method of showing care/affection/love language: Definitely physical touch, quality time together, and acts of service

Preferred ways of receiving care/affection: physical touch and quality time together

Eye color: brown

Hair description: shoulder length straight black hair with bangs

Clothing description: black, blue, or green t-shirts sometimes, a hoodie, bootcut blue jeans most often light wash, cowboy work boots, and a baseball cap

Body type: lightly tanned skin with a more athletic build

Favorite activities: hunting, fishing working on her 1976 red and white ford f250 and playing with animals

Blood type: A+

Favorite color: Olive green and navy blue

Favorite animal: snakes

Favorite food/dessert: Alfredo pasta and orange sherbet ice cream

Other fun facts: she has a pet snake named candy that is shockingly nice to people and other animals

[mdhwrites]

The Owl House Fans Don’t Know What Colonies Are

So this isn’t actually me firing shots at the show. This is about the meta commentary people like to use to elevate the show and it’s one of the most laughable to me. That it’s some grand, anti-colonial story because Belos is a colonizer and Luz stands up for indigenous people as one of them! I’ll get into the colony side of it but on a basic level, it needs to be pointed out that Belos is an American, not British. The closest he could be is one of those sent out to colonize for Britain but he was literally too young to have been a part of that decision when it happened if that were the case and those who colonized America... were treated as part of a colony to Britain. So literally he was a part of the oppressed or he’s post The War for Independence and America was never a colonial power, ESPECIALLY NOT BACK THEN.

Secondly... Just because Luz isn’t white doesn’t mean she can’t technically fall into the white savior trope. The point of that trope is just to talk about how much it sucks when an outsider comes in, makes everything better and fixes all the problems. Luz still ostensibly does that while not being a part of the culture or using the culture and its people in order to save them. Her glyphs are unknown to everyone except LITERALLY THE GROUND THEIR STANDING ON. So... Yeah, she’s not some inspirational story against colonizers. I think you’d have to write a VERY different sort of story for an isekai to be anti-colonial like that frankly. Oh, and we can’t forget that she’s literally blessed by a god because she has a viewpoint to their son that’s different from the rest of the Isles, the indigenous people, and is then empowered to go kill the ruler, who ostensibly the people approve of and chose to be there, regardless of the lies to why, because she does not believe in his methods or beliefs.

Which, you know, for either anti-colonial messaging or anti-Christian Fundamentalism is kind of yikes.

But neither of these matter because The Boiling Isles is NOT a colony. Not even close. The definition that the fans use to say it’s a colony, ruled by an outsider effectively, would have made RUSSIA a colony to Germany while Catherine the Great was ruling it purely because Catherine was a German. If that does not immediately make you cringe, you need to listen.

So as far as how they are ruled, what are the Isles? Well, I bring up Catherine not just because of the pointed joke. See, her husband also wasn’t Russian. He was a German as well but adopted by Elizabeth of Russia. When he became Tsar, everyone hated him and his policies, especially military policies, so much that they overthrew him and chose Catherine.

That’s effectively what the Isles is. They chose Belos as their ruler. Yes, they were deceived as to why he should rule them but they did choose it eventually. As far as we understand, he wasn’t a conqueror and he wasn’t even a part of a coup like Catherine was. Instead, after terrible deeds and the like, he united the Isles under his coven system, brought an end to an age and moved on with his life. His policies, besides magic, are even progressive in some ways because apparently children had no protection before Belos and then he added child endangerment laws. He ostensibly made the Isles a safer place with his guards who could respond to monster faster. The EC in fact, from the fact that they don’t do anything actually evil, especially compared to the populace, until almost S2′s finale with Labyrinth Runners (And I guess you could include Escaping Palisman but there’s extenuating circumstances there, much like how Eda is petrified for breaking the law. There’s more gray in theory to it.) That’s not how you run a colony... That’s just how you run your nation.

But of course that’s the case because the Boiling Isles literally CAN’T be a colony. See, colonies were made as a part of the concept of the Policy of Austerity. Each nation saw themselves as needing to be self sufficient, able to produce EVERYTHING required for civilization, without foreign aid. As such, colonies weren’t oppressed because of religious doctrine, that was propaganda, but out of necessity to that policy. After all, if your colonies have a real economy, they have less to give back to the mother land. You can’t tax them as much, you can’t regulate their trade as much, you can’t make sure their natural resources are going to you.

This is actually part of why the Puritans are the founders of America. They were annoying to the British so rather than dealing with them, they sent them to this weird, new world so as to bring back resources and get out of their hair. That’s also why Americans were treated maybe not quite as poorly as other colonies but we were still DEFINITELY a colony. We did not govern ourselves. Instead, Britain appointed our leaders and chose our policies. Otherwise, you know, we would have just gotten rid of the ludicrous tax on tea instead of throwing it into the harbor.

And if we want to talk more metaphorically about colonies... What culture did Belos push upon the Isles? Colonies would be made to adopt home cultures because that’s how the home country saw as the best way to rule and the best way to make the colony bend to the will of the homeland. If they act like British people, they will accept British rule more.

Except our one glimpse at the Isles is that they already look like they have the same fashion and architecture and commerce even as a Victorian era man. The architecture of the Isles literally doesn’t change between the past and the modern era, something the show actually does point out itself. Bonesborough as has a lot of the same buildings HUNDREDS of years later, there’s just more of them now.

Worse yet, the Titan is not Belos’ own religion. Ostensibly, it should be the Isles religion but they, reasonably, don’t know the Titan is alive. Belos theoretically doesn’t seem to either? Maybe? It’s inconsistent. But he establishes prisons instead of simply hanging those who do not conform in the present day. If they wanted to lean in on him bringing Puritan culture, there would have been a genuine purge of most of the Isles because of its rampant greed, self interest, art, stories, etc. that the Puritans were just very against because if it wasn’t about God, it died.

Again: The Puritans were so extreme, with such a stick up their ass, the BRITISH kicked them out of their country.

All of that would have hurt the fantasy though, wouldn’t it? It wouldn’t be some effectively idealic fantasy setting. Even the dangers Luz faces aren’t the worst and a real fantasy fan would be sad to see them be gone because then you don’t get that bit of menace that comes from a good fantasy world. More oppression, more change, more shifting to an anti-magic world like Belos theoretically should have been for (remember: He only asks that you join the Coven system. He barely cares what you do with the magic after that) then you lose that part of the isekai fantasy.

It’s actually part of why Belos being a human, his statement of “You think I want conquest” being that he just wants murder, actually makes the show less interesting. Evil emperors are a dime a dozen. Any isekai protagonist would expect to be pointed in their direction and shot off like a rocket. A genuinely complex ruler though who is having to deal with balancing humanity with his religion and his duties as emperor? That would have been a GREAT wake up call to Luz to stop assuming things based on tropes.

Belos would have had to be more of a part of the show and a character in his own right for that. Or for any of this really. We would have to see how Belos contrasts against a member of the Isles more and he really doesn’t. Serving in his own interest? Got plenty of villains like that in the Isles. Not caring about murder or enslavement for his methods? Yep, that’s pretty normal, including Odalia frankly. Lies to get what he wants? I mean, fucking LUZ does that!

But he is the bad guy because he’s the evil emperor and no amount of backstory or supposed meta narrative is going to fix that fundamental, thematic failing.

==========

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead, If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

And finally a Twitter you can follow too!

[glacialswordsman-a]

" in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you. " ( you can choose the verse )

| prompt

To my beloved Ajax,

I’m sorry.

By the time you read this, I will be no more. Ever since I joined the Fatui, I knew this would have more than likely been the outcome of what I had been working for. For many years, ever since I had been found by Pantalone, I had a singular goal in mind:

To destroy the Fatui and its Delusion Factories.

I had tried to think of other ways to go about this goal, to see if I could potentially find a method without having to sacrifice myself, but there was nothing that I could have figured out. Perhaps if I told you my plans after Fontaine, after our confessions, we could have thought of something together, but I couldn’t do that to you. How could I possibly pull you into my own mess and ask you to help me destroy the livelihood of all you had known?

No, this was my burden to bear. Alone.

I’ve never told you what happened—the how and why Pantalone found me.

That night was my brother, Diluc Ragnivindr’s, 18th birthday. We He had lost everything that night.

A caravan that Diluc and our father, Crepus, were escorting was attacked by a foul beast named Ursa the Drake, and our father fought valiantly to protect everyone. Especially Diluc. In order to protect them, he relied on the power of a pyro Delusion, and it had backfired on him from the amount of power he exerted while using it. I wasn’t there.

In fact, I was too late when I got to them, and watched as my brother granted our father a swift death to put him out of his pain and misery. Had he not, Crepus would have suffered until his very last breath.

I’ll never forget my own reaction to it. Instead of running to console my brother and grieve with him, I stood back, simply watched…

And smirked.

I was morbidly fascinated by the fact that even the man who had graciously taken me into his home would ever rely on such a terrible power. Not only that, but I also felt a sense of liberation, and when I realized my initial reactions, pure and unadulterated guilt and shame crashed down against my shoulders.

Diluc had gone off to report this to the Ordo Favonius of Mondstadt, which we had both proudly been a part of. Yet, that same day, he quit and never looked back. Meanwhile, I helped clean up the mess while I stewed in my thoughts and realized I needed to come clean to my brother, and now to you.

That evening, I admitted to Diluc that I was planted in Mondstadt as a child so I could serve my nation’s purpose. My nation of Khaenri’ah. My father had left me purposefully at the Dawn Winery so I could learn as much as I could about them and the nation of Freedom.

He said I was their only hope.

But all I could think of at that point was how I had betrayed my family. The family that had lovingly taken me in and provided me with warmth, care, and happiness. From the very first moment they accepted me, my life was nothing but an absolute lie.

Understandably, Diluc wasn’t happy, and I had anticipated his anger. He had just lost his father, and now his own brother was confessing his sins on the same night. Idiotic, wasn’t it? I wasn’t thinking clearly, but if I hadn’t told Diluc as soon as possible, the guilt would have consumed me whole.

I just…didn’t think I would have nearly lost my life for it. I would have deserved it, and even as I write this, I do not blame him for his reactions. They were understandable, even if I could have been killed. Yet the Tsaritsa blessed me with a Vision and saved me from Diluc’s fiery wrath. The moment that whitish-blue light shone and revealed the state of my grievous wounds, Diluc froze.

I took that opportunity to run away, run as far and as fast as I could to anywhere but there. The Dawn Winery and Mondstadt were no longer my home.

Instead, I headed towards Liyue, where I had nearly succumbed to my wounds—yet as luck would have it, Pantalone found me in the nick of time.

I wasn’t going to squander this opportunity. This was the chance I needed to repay the Ragnivindrs, and to repent for my Sins.

However, I didn’t factor in the possibility of how I would come to find the Fatui as another home. I thought it was going to be easy and that I wouldn’t grow attached, but oh, how wrong I was. I had grown close to Rosalyne and thought of her as my mother, I came to think of the Regrator as my brother, and the Jester as some weird uncle.

Most of all, though, I fell in love with you, Tartaglia. My dearest Ajax.

Thus came the realization that there was no way out for me. I was stuck again, all out of my own doing. There was no way I would ever confess this to anyone, no less the Tsaritsa. I knew my life would be forfeit if I had, so either way, I was a dead man walking. So, if I’m to die, then I’d rather it be out of my own choice.

Every time we visited the Delusion manufacturers, it was under the guise of quality check-ups and making sure everything ran smoothly, but in reality, I was discreetly planting bombs. I’m surprised I managed to do so without getting caught. There were some close calls, admittedly, so it’s truly a miracle that I’ve gotten as far as I have now. All that’s left is for me to destroy the root of what made everything go wrong, and what better way than to pay homage to my father, the late Master Crepus?

I’ve always found it ironic how I, too, ended up with a pyro Delusion. I suppose the only difference is that I’m actively choosing to kill myself with it.

… I wish I could see my big brother one last time. Would he have forgiven me for everything, including this? I cannot help but wonder.

There would be a large blank space in the middle of the writing, before it eventually picked back up again. Some of the words became a little splotchy from the ink spreading due to what appeared to be little droplets.

Had Kaeya spilled something…or were those tears?

I know what I have done is unforgivable. The lies, the façades, the masks.

The death of probably hundreds that were working in the factories at the time of retribution.

But please know this, Ajax… The one thing I have always been honest about were my feelings for you. You have brought light and warmth into my life, and I’m sorry for how greedy I have been in trying to cling to it. I shouldn’t have accepted your feelings, I shouldn’t have held you, I shouldn’t have kissed you—maybe then, you’d hate me less for this.

Maybe then, you’d eventually come to forget about me.

I suppose the only saving grace that comes from all of this is me being able to remember our time together, being able to think of your smile one last time as my story ends in an explosive grand finale. Ever selfish until the end, I know.

On one hand, I have a sense of peace in knowing what’s to come, as I finally get to decide my own fate. But on the other hand, I still wish there had been another way.

…

In another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

I love you.

Forever yours,

“Pavlín” Brighella, the Twelfth Harbinger, one half of the Innamorati.

Kaeya Alberich.

[simply-ivanka]

Why the Left Is Throwing Biden a Lifeline

AOC and Bernie Sanders are betting the President will reward their loyalty in a second term.

Wall Street Journal Editorial July 11, 2024

President Biden is phoning friends across his party to rally support, so pay close attention to who is answering the call. His staunchest defenders are on the left, while moderates in swing districts are asking the President to withdraw from the race. There’s more than 2024 electoral calculation behind this highly revealing political turn.

No one outside the Biden family has been more fiercely pro-Biden since the President’s debate flop than Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. The Queens firebrand promised reporters that Mr. Biden won’t leave the race and pledged to campaign for him through Election Day. This show of faith came after she said she “spoke with the President extensively” over the weekend. A Commander in Chief pleading for support from an often critical House backbencher is something to behold.

Another stalwart for the President is Sen. Bernie Sanders, who says he believes Mr. Biden can still win—if he campaigns on the Bernie agenda. Even Rep. Ilhan Omar, who has been denouncing Mr. Biden’s Israel policy for months, is now in the Save Biden camp. This week she said “he’s been the best president of my lifetime, and we have his back.”

There’s an ideological method to this loyalty. Ms. Omar has a point about Mr. Biden’s first term. While the President campaigned as a moderate uniter, in office he has tried to be the second coming of FDR.

Despite losing the 2020 primary to Mr. Biden, Sen. Sanders gave his endorsement in return for Mr. Biden signing up to the Biden-Sanders Unity Task Force. The agenda included drug price controls, an expanded child tax credit, massive green energy commitments, and Build Back Better entitlement expansions. Only Sens. Joe Manchin and Kyrsten Sinema stopped him from delivering on more or less the entire Bernie Sanders policy wish list.

If progressives save Mr. Biden now and he goes on to win re-election, the left will be well positioned to cash in again. Mr. Sanders is clear about what he expects in return for sticking with Mr. Biden. In his statement defending the President, he urged Mr. Biden to support a national “living wage,” a payroll tax hike, medical debt cancellation and much more. “Biden and Democrats can win this election if they address the needs of the working class,” he said.

The desperate President is turning to the left because he knows these Democrats don’t face electoral challenges. Progressives are running in safe seats or in Democratic states where Donald Trump has no chance to win. But in his desperation, Mr. Biden is also making a possible second term even more hostage to the left. Bernie and AOC have plenty of unfinished policy business they hope to get done if Democrats control the White House and Congress.

Things will work out for progressives even if Mr. Biden wins but doesn’t make it through the entire four years. Their dream scenario would be for President Biden to win, then retire and pass the Oval Office on to Vice President Kamala Harris, who ran as a whole-hearted progressive in the primaries in 2020.

Mr. Biden’s political vulnerability, and his turn to progressives for a lifeline, raises the policy stakes even higher for the November election. Bernie Sanders may believe social spending is free, but his political fee is steep.

[avatarthelastearthbender]

Introduction

"Fire"

"Air"

"Water"

"Earth"

"Long ago,the four nations lived together in harmony,then everything changed when the Water Nation attacked...Only the Avatar,master of all four elements could stop them,but when the world needed her most,she vanished.100 years passed and my brother and I discovered the new Avatar...an Earthbender named Toph. And although her earthbending skills are great,she has a lot to learn until she's ready to save anyone,but I believe Toph can save the world"

~~~

Hello, welcome to my Avatar Swap Au blog

[Main Characters]: Toph - {In the role of Aang} She has the pretty much same personality as in canon,only she can be more childish,like canon Aang. She grew up in a small town where she used to fight in the underground earthbending Lei Tai tournaments secretly from her wealthy and protective parents, Upon finding out she's the avatar and on top of always wanting to run away from her protective family,she got overwhelmed by the responsibility and she ran away and trapped herself inside the top of a mountain, using earthbending, remaining there for 100 years. Azula blew the place up in a moment of frustration towards her brother,Zuko

Azula - {In the role of Katara} Unlike the canonically brutal and rough firebenders,the Fire Tribe has many warm and welcoming individuals that fight with honour and respect,Azula doesn't seem to fit right in with them though because,like in the canon universe,she is clever and she is quite apathetic towards the enemy,but more in a petty way like a combination of a redeemed Azula and how canon Sokka was in the beginning,she eventually gets her character development. (She also isn't Toph's love interest by the way)

Zuko - {In the role of Sokka} Zuko is Azula's older brother,who despite his awkward and introverted nature,seems to get along better with most people from their Tribe,but always tried his best to include Azula with the rest. Although he had a hard time trusting Toph,not believing she was an actual Earthbender since the Water Nation had killed them all,he -like canon sokka- eventually trusts her and they all travel together.

Aang - {In the role of Toph} Aang is a 12 year old boy from the Air Kingdom,who got raised by monks and was kept around them his whole life, wanting to explore the world outside the Air Kingdom,he agreed to teach Toph Air bending. His methods of teaching are not how Toph expected,Aang was so calm and interrupted lessons sometimes to have fun,Toph had a hard time learning air bending as it used so different methods from what she knew,and when she was in the air she couldn't see with her feet, which also annoyed her (The whole vibe was kind of how Korra struggled to learn air bending when she was trained under Tenzin).

OTHERS:

Sokka is swapped with Zuko

Katara swapped with Azula

Hakoda swapped with Ozai

Kya swapped with Ursa

Kanna swapped with Iroh

Jet swapped with Chan

Suki swapped with Mei

Yue swapped with Ty Lee {Ty Lee turned into the Sun Spirit}

And many more! Feel free to ask, headcanon and of course suggest anything

[suntails]

I just wanted to say that I utterly adored your pmv!! The way each picture went so well with the words and flowed with the dynamics of the song *chefs kiss* I always thought of myself as a Silver lover but you’ve blown me out of the water!

The Fairy Gala scenes were probably my favorite, just Silver being proud and everyone moving to catch him 🤧 AND THAT BACKGROUND AT THE END WAS SO SPOT ON!! Amazing job and I can’t wait to see what you do next!

i want to say that TRULY this means a lot, thank you!!!! <3 i've drawn silver over 270 times by now and my love for him is as strong as ever, it was such an honor to concentrate my efforts into such a big project just for him!! silver nation may be small but goddammit i will be DAMNED if i don't give 150% and weaponize my art for good!!

HIS PRIDE!!!! his pride at carrying forward the wish lilia repeats each and every year, for harmony and peace,,, the fact that he made PROGRESS and his method of being upfront and sincere with the fae was what saved the group, like im WEEPING. the way everyone has his back and supports him shown in the readiness to run catch him as he falls asleep IM SICK!!!!! and YES THANK U!!! backgrounds im realizing are prob my specialty and fav thing to draw at this point so im glad u like ^_^

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios Adventures

Queen Maura was not having a good day. Unfinished paperwork was piled on her desk so high it was almost comical. Viola's teacher had sent a letter home warning the queen that her daughter was struggling with her schoolwork and Spencer had been caught picking a fight with a student from Pleasantview. The children were largely Ulyssa's duty to care for, since Maura had to be concerned first and foremost with the safety of her nation. Maura had offered to get tutors for Viola, but her wife had taken offense to the idea. She had gone to university, she could handle helping their daughter with her homework. Maura made a mental note to tell her assistant to find a tutor anyway, since Ulyssa's methods were clearly not working.

It was a shame that it was so nice outside. The kids were free to run around the property while their mother had an afternoon of meetings ahead of her. Her grandmother hadn't said much about how to be a proper queen to Maura, since the throne was supposed to pass to Maura’s mother before her. That was fine, seeing as Maura had always been afraid of her grandmother, but she really wished that someone had warned her about just how many meetings she would have to sit through. Most of them were tedious and others made her want to fling herself off the roof of the castle. Her schedule had almost been clear today until the crown princess of Crystal Cove demanded to speak to the other nations as soon as possible.

Claudia had stirred up controversy by reclaiming a tower in Crystal Cove for reasons no one could understand. Maura knew that her cousin did absolutely nothing without a reason. Whatever Claudia hadn't found out for herself, her shadowy associates would certainly tell her. The queen of Pleasantview knew everything it seemed. Maura could probably text her right now and have Claudia describe Maura’s exact current outfit without even pausing to think about it. Just because Maura had no idea of what her cousin was up to, she knew without a doubt that there was something driving Claudia into putting pressure on Crystal Cove. All Maura could do was wait to see how things turned out.

Crown Prince Adrion was used to long, hot days where he didn't see his mother until bedtime. One day, her job was going to be his and he would have to run from meeting to meeting just like she did or spend hours hunched over a desk writing. He was practicing his penmanship in preparation for writing as much as his mother did, but his sister Alysiara always teased him for it. By the time their mother died and he became king, everything would be done on computers and his penmanship wouldn't matter at all.

His brother Spencer was at least nice to him. Spencer was quiet and liked playing chess out in the gardens. Adrion could never beat his brother at chess, but he tried his best.

Alysiara loved the castle they called home and all the attached gardens that made their land a popular tourist destination. She played with bubbles, watching butterflies float by in a warm breeze. As the second oldest, Alysiara could one day become queen if something happened to her brother, so much of her education was exactly the same as Adrion's. They had been working on a project about the native population of butterflies in their garden for school and the pictures Alysiara had gotten just this morning would ensure that she got a higher grade than her brother.

"Your Majesty."

Maura was caught off guard by an attractive man trying to get her attention. The fact that he was on the property at all meant that he'd been processed and deemed safe.

"Ezra, I have no time to talk, I have a meeting to go to," she said, trying to brush past him.

"Maura, we need to talk about the baby," he pleaded. "You can't hide it anymore, people are beginning to talk about the queen's marriage saving pregnancy that will finally quiet stories about you and Ulyssa. They'll eventually find out that it's all a lie. It's only a matter of time."

Maura stopped, anger surging through her at the reminder of something she already knew.

"No matter what happens between us, this will never be your child," she responded, keeping her voice down as much as she could. "This is going to be Ulyssa's child no matter what, just as Georgiana is my child. Every day she will feed, clothe and love this child as her own, just as I have done with Georgiana. It will be a reminder of the graciousness that I've shown her since the affair."

Ezra stopped and stared at his lover.

"Did you get pregnant on purpose, just to rub Ulyssa's nose in it? I thought we were just having fun."

"We are. There's no reason to discontinue our meetings just because I'm pregnant. Ulyssa knows all about you and the others."

"The others?"

"Ezra, my schedule for today is very busy," Maura replied. "I don't have need of you today, which means that you should now leave the premises. I'll summon you when your services are required."

Maura blew past the stunned man, still rehearsing everything she wanted to say to Crystal Cove in her head. All Ezra could do was stare at her retreating form with stunned silence.

"Hey Georgie, hey Viola."

Princess Alysiara waved to her sisters as she headed towards her room. The two of them were having a tea party, practicing their manners and protocol while enjoying a sunny day. Alysiara scoffed a little at the sight, remembering when she'd been a baby practicing manners too. She was so much more mature than her sisters now that she had graduated to "lessons for big girls" as her mother called them. Adrion and Alysiara were in elementary school, while Viola and Georgiana were still just starting kindergarten.

"Your Majesty."

Guard Adrianna Pervil nodded formally to the queen as she passed her by on her rounds.

"Hmmm?"

Maura snapped out of her thoughts and smiled at the woman. Adrianna was an excellent employee and had always been very kind when Maura needed her.

"Reminiscing about the past?" Adrianna teased. "Your mother was a beautiful queen. It's a shame that her reign was cut so short."

Maura couldn't disagree on either point. Her mother had been famous across the world for her beauty and grace. She was every bit the queen Twikkii Island had deserved and after all this time, Maura still had no idea who had murdered her. Everyone's money was on Pleasantview being behind the attack, but Maura knew her cousin. Claudia was the daughter of two reapers, and they had made sure that each of their children knew the brutality and betrayal taking a life involved. Murder was a betrayal of life and heresy against the lists of the Grim Reaper. It was a sin against the natural order of things to take a life when Death had not willed it. There were always exceptions, like self-defense, and Claudia's parents had both been born into royalty, and grudgingly admitted that their daughter may need to take a life to defend her country. Outside of these exceptions, Claudia would find herself at the mercy of angry reapers should she decide to murder, especially if she chose to murder her cousin's family.

And why wouldn't Claudia finish the job and kill Maura if that was her plan? Why hadn't the islands been forced to be Pleasantview's newest colony for all these years? That theory made no sense to Maura. If Claudia was planning something, she was certainly taking her time.

It was the same thing with her and Crystal Cove. What possible motivation could Claudia have against a country that Pleasantview had already conquered so many times in the past? The late Queen Consort Celeste was the biological mother of Claudia's adopted brother Travis. The future queen Theodosia was Travis' biological half-sister. If Claudia was planning some terrible takeover, she wouldn't attack family, of that, Maura was certain.

"It's always nice to see you, Adrianna," Maura said, stroking the guard's back fondly. Adrianna had been there for her after the whole Ulyssa and Roman affair had been brought to light. She owed Adrianna so much for her support and Ulyssa owed her continued residence in the palace to Adrianna as well. She had been the one to advise Maura of what her options were if she didn't want a public, messy divorce.

The sound of music drew Maura upstairs, where Alysiara and Ulyssa were dancing to a song on the radio.

The sight made Maura smile. Ulyssa was still not a proper wife to her and the animosity Maura felt towards her sometimes broke through all the practiced smiles Maura could produce, but Ulyssa loved their children. She was a great mom, especially considering the things Ulyssa had confessed about her own mother. With a family as large as the Durants, Ulyssa had years of experience taking care of children, and her devotion to her godson, Theo, had never wavered, even after Theo had walked away from her. She and Maura had been forced by circumstances to start their family earlier than they'd wanted, but unlike Maura, Ulyssa had taken to motherhood easily.

"Can I cut in?" Maura asked playfully.

She moved awkwardly to the music, laughing at her daughter's reaction. Moments like these would have been a common occurrence in a world where her mother hadn't died. A world where she and Ulyssa started later with just a single child that they could devote their lives to. A world where the children still had grandparents to love them and a mother who didn't spend her entire life in meetings. A world where Roman Bellamy couldn't exploit an overwhelmed Ulyssa with his demonic charms. It was a world Maura dreamed of often. One that could never happen.

"It was nice to have you join us," Ulyssa said, taking her wife's hand and kissing it tenderly. "The kids always enjoy when you pop in between meetings. I know I enjoy it too."

Maura reached for her wife's other hand, holding them gently between them.

"I'm trying, Ulyssa," she stated, looking into her wife's eyes with all the sincerity she could muster. "Really, I am. Maybe after the baby is born-"

"Your revenge baby," Ulyssa corrected, interrupting the queen. "After your revenge baby is born, we can what? Be a family again? You'll stop sleeping with everyone who has stepped foot in the palace? You can finally let Roman see the daughter that you keep hidden from him, but have no interest in raising yourself?"

"Forget it," Maura said quickly, pulling away from her wife. "I can see that you're not going to be reasonable. I'll see you and the children at dinner. I have more important things to do than listen to you."

[theatricalfangirl]

Okay, episode 3 thoughts.

Sokka is precious, geeking out over the mechanist’s workshop. Teo is such a cute kid too, he so excited. I love that they’re giving him and Aang a little more time together, Teo clearly has some hero worship of Aang, not just because he’s the avatar but because he’s an Airbender. They’re so close in age, I think it’s good that Aang has made a friend who he can go flying with. It’s a way for him to remember and honor his history and friends.

I’m glad they don’t have them just needlessly destroying the old air temple, that always made me mad. I feel like, when the war is over Teo would definitely become an Air Acolyte like we see in Korra’s time. Live action Teo seems to have a level of respect for the air nomads history and culture that we didn’t see as much in the cartoon.

I like how they mixed Omashu, the mechanist, and Jet all in one episode, I feel like it’ll work well enough, telling the story and including elements from the original.

I think it’s interesting that Ozai had Azula infiltrate the group trying to assassinate him. She was clearly acting on his orders, but he could use this as a further method to keep her under his control if she ever started getting ideas. Conspiring to kill her father, the Firelord would definitely be treason and Ozai could easily bribe/threaten those guards to testify that Azula did it of her own free will, with intention to murder him.

I love Ty Lee’s actress (and not just because she’s friends with Walker Scobell). She’s played roles where her character feels outshone by her siblings so we already know she can do an amazing job with that aspect of her character. I really like how the fire nation uses fire phrases in everyday life. Azula says “they’re not the brightest of flames.”

I’m glad we’re starting to see Katara let her more negative emotions, yelling at Sokka, standing up to Jet, but I want to see her go further. She tries to reason with Jet first, then goes to Aang and Sokka for help, she could’ve taken him.

The lady hitting Zuko with a stick “How dare you hit that child!” I lost my mind, I love it. Seeing an adult who’s not just passively watching Aang (a literal child) have to fight someone a lot older than he is, stepping in trying to help? We only see a few characters like that in the cartoon, ones we know are already fighting the fire nation. This lady just saw a little kid getting picked on and jumped in to help.

Now, Zuko leaving his Uncle in Omashu when they’re discovered is rubbing me the wrong way. In the original we see Zuko going to great lengths to save his Uncle when he’s captured by Earth Kingdom soldiers. He even eventually tries to free him when Iroh is imprisoned by the Fire nation, Iroh just escapes first. I know he’ll be back, but I don’t know, it feels odd for Zuko to have basically run away to save himself.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Nancy Gryspeerdt: On my second day earwigging for Michael Gambon, I found myself lying under the bed in which the legend of stage and screen was portraying Winston Churchill. It was 2015, and we were on the set of Churchill’s Secret. Hidden this way, I was out of view for the camera, but not out of earshot, so I could shout out his lines for him to repeat. The idea was we’d cut my bellowing out of the scene afterwards. Earwigging is the process of reading an actor’s lines into a microphone. These are then fed into a tiny earpiece in the actor’s ear. The tech is imperfect and sometimes it fails, as it had that day when I was forced to improvise by hiding under the bed. Certain movie stars are said to opt for an earpiece purely to save the time and effort of learning lines, but I find that hard to believe. Line-by-line feeding is tricky. It can cause random pauses and actors often look distracted as they listen. The frustration Michael felt about the whole process was profound.

Michael had lost the ability to learn lines several years before. He would often recount how he’d been rehearsing Alan Bennett’s play The Habit of Art at the National Theatre in 2010 and suddenly collapsed, in fear. Memory decline was what he was afraid of, a slippery slope he would indeed begin to slide down. He was replaced in The Habit of Art and only returned to theatre once more in a one-man play, Krapp’s Last Tape, that relied upon his recorded voice more than live monologue. Developing a method for memorising and recalling lines is part of every actor’s practice. For all but the most demanding jobs, it’s a basic requirement before the real work begins, not a proof of acting talent. Occasional lapses happen, like an ill-timed cramp might for an athlete. But when an actor loses the ability to learn lines, it’s a career-ending injury. If you don’t have your lines, it is all you can think about.

Becoming an earwig hadn’t been my plan. Before stepping in to cover for Michael’s regular earwig in her absence, I was a director’s assistant and budding script editor. I got the gig because the director saw how much I loved watching actors work. It is a very well-paid role, partly, I think, because everyone involved feels reassured by the extortionate fees, as they might by paying a Harley Street doctor. The plot of Churchill’s Secret centred on the ailing prime minister being brought back from the brink after a stroke by the tough love and care of a young nurse. It’s possible that at the time of my peculiar meet-cute with Michael, the part of the nurse rubbed off on me. It was Michael’s last leading role, and the fact that Churchill’s situation spoke to his own paid off. He was proud of his performance. I continued to work with him until he fully retired in 2018, my work becoming palliative. The jobs ranged from a high-budget period drama (Victoria and Abdul), to indie projects done on a shoestring, to an almost walk-on part in Renée Zellweger’s Judy Garland biopic.

Though it was never properly defined, my job included telling Michael what the script was about and how he fitted into it. Then, we would run his lines over and over, in the back of cars and hotel lobbies, in an attempt to allay his massive anxieties. Despite this exhaustive prep, he was unable to retain much. And when we stepped on the set, we were starting virtually afresh. I would usually take my place in some cupboard within radio range and, watching him on a handheld monitor, I’d cue him, using exaggerated emphasis to suggest where we were in a sentence, while trying to keep my meaning somehow neutral.

Sometimes he’d find my intonation inoffensive; he would have less trouble interpreting the sentence and could make it his own. Sometimes he’d contort my emphasis, resulting in unusable takes for which we’d both feel guilty. He often said he wanted me to read lines “straight, like a machine”, willing me to be less of an encumbrance to his expression. But when we experimented with less signposting, he couldn’t gain sense from my sounds. Ever the precision engineer he had trained to be, he was insistent that if he had the use of his younger brain he could build the contraption he needed to compensate for its gradual decay.

Michael’s desire for autonomy was based on what he’d achieved, an incredible career characterised by versatility and power. Of his TV work, he was best known for The Singing Detective; of his films, for his role as Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts in Harry Potter (a film that “changed everything”, not necessarily for the better). But his humane presence enriched movies as various as The Cook, The Thief, His Wife & Her Lover; Gosford Park; Layer Cake; The Wings of the Dove; The Life Aquatic and Quartet. In the 1960s, his work on TV series The Borderers led to him being sized up as a candidate to play James Bond. But he thought of himself as a stage actor first. Over the decades, he’d interspersed Shakespeare with Brecht, Pinter, Ayckbourn and Caryl Churchill, at the Birmingham Rep, then the Royal Shakespeare Company, then everywhere else that mattered.

[Financial Times]

[waltwhitmansbeard]

go on, claim my heart: epilogue

see my masterpost for what came before this. thank you for going on this journey with me. i hope it's been a good one.

Things begin to move very quickly. Keyleth remains stoic through her father's funeral, a joyous affair of music and flowers and colors befitting a man of his temperament. She saves the falling apart for when she is back in the cottage, with only her husband and her daughter to witness her shattered pieces. Vax holds her as she weeps into the night, for her father, for her mother, for her child, for her people. She sleeps when she can, though often the sorrow pulls her from her slumber, awakening her in the darkest hours with tears already streaming down her cheeks.

During the days, a new government is born. From sunrise to sunset, what was once the Ashari Council meets to establish what the new city-state of Zephrah will look like, how it will run, by what method its citizens will elect their representatives. Within the first week, the leaders of the other Ashari cities arrive—including Duchess Uvenda, who, as it turns out, made a full recovery once her worm of a grandson left and a skilled cleric arrived—and they, too, begin to see the vision of what their cities' futures might look like. Keyleth, who occupies the role of sovereign until a formal declaration can be made, urges the Archdukes and Archduchess to follow her lead in allowing the citizens to decide their own futures, but she sees reluctance in particular in Duchess Uvenda and Duke Patisse's eyes, which, she supposes, is their business. She is no longer in control of their destinies.

It takes about a month, but Zephrah decides on a High Council with five elected positions—Development, Commerce, Arcana, Divinity, and Defense—with elections to be held every three years, the first to be held in one year's time. Also on this High Council will sit four appointed positions, one ambassador from each of the other city-states in the newly founded Ashari Confederacy. Keyleth is to serve on this council as well in an advisory capacity for the next five years, long enough to transition Zephrah into its new future, and then she and her little family will be citizens, no more or less than any of their neighbors.

Keyleth makes the announcement on a frigid winter morning, bundled up against the icy winds in the center of town. She is surrounded by the new High Council and the visiting nobles, as well as her husband, who stands just behind her, looking every inch the valiant guard she fell in love with. The people of Zephrah react with confusion, uproar, anger, unrest, but after they are given some time to converse among themselves, to gather as neighbors and dream of what their futures might look like, Keyleth is unsurprised to learn that the Zephrans come to look forward to what they might do with the newfound power placed in their hands.

Despite this dawning era of hope and change, a nasty, twisted gnawing at her stomach rarely lets her know peace. She keeps it to herself, not even divulging her worries to Vax, because if anyone knew of her doubts, her fears, her uncertainty, she knows that this unprecedented thing they are trying to do will collapse. Even though her each and every quiet moment is deafened by peppering questions—is this the right thing, what if it doesn't work, has the nation been made more vulnerable, what would Korrin say—she must not let them spill out, lest her plan be foiled by her own insecurities.

So on a spring morning, when Vax sleeps in with the baby and the morning fog has yet to roll off of the hills, Keyleth goes to the place she's been avoiding since her return to Zephrah: her father's chambers. Percy locked the doors and gave her the key, and it has taken her this long to summon the courage to go in. Her hand trembles on the key as she unlocks it.

The first thing that nearly sends her to her knees is how much the room still smells like him. Her father always had a woodsy, smoky scent, given his proclivity for staying up late into the evening reading by firelight, and thought it has been several months now, that scent still lingers. She forces her legs to continue in, closing the door behind her. His dressing gown is still draped over the back of the chaise by the hearth, as if at any moment he might stride in and throw it on. There is a writing desk near the window, smaller than the one in his study yet still littered with all the accoutrements of the station he'd held. The bed, never turned down for the night again, has a fine layer of dust atop the duvet. Keyleth presses her hand onto the mattress. If she closes her eyes, she can feel the early sunlight of mornings in this bed as a child, climbing up between her parents and giggling as they pretended not to notice her less than stealthy arrival.

She goes to the desk and begins to sort through his many papers and ledgers. She should have done this earlier; she's sure there is information in here that is crucial to any number of projects the Ashari Nation had been working on before its grand transformation.

Half-tucked under a report from Pyrah regarding the near-completed reconstruction efforts, she finds a page covered in her father's familiar looping script. She pulls it out, her breath escaping in a quiet gasp when she begins to read.

My darling daughter,

I wish I had the words to attest to the depths of the despair I feel as I write. Your mother was always the wordsmith, not I. Like you, she was far more fit to rule this nation than I will ever be. But let me make myself clear: my despair derives not from your absence, but from my granddaughter's. I failed you, Keyleth, by not ensuring that the home I gifted you was impervious to any and all harm. I see now that I left you and your family vulnerable, and for that, I beg for your forgiveness.

I know all too well about parental imperfection, because I know that I spent your childhood so preoccupied with the welfare of our people that I neglected the welfare of the one person I cared for most in this great world. I imagine that your days were often long and lonely, my dearest, and all I can say is that my gratitude for those who remedied my mistake—Vax'ildan, Percival, Pike—will forever be as ceaseless as the stars above. I doubt nothing less than whether you will be a better parent to Vilya than I was to you. I only hope that I can be there for her in all the ways that I was not there for you, that under your guidance, the family that was shattered the day your mother died might once again be made whole.

I do not begrudge you a single decision you make in pursuit of returning your child home. Having just led our great nation through a terrible war, I know that dreadful decisions must be made to achieve peace, and know that you have my support in whatever decisions you make in your quest. You inherited your mother's wit, wisdom, and grace, but I like to think you inherited my unwavering devotion to the things that matter to me, and I know that will serve you in your aims.

I will be awaiting your successful return with bated breath, my darling daughter. Know that my nights will be sleepless and my days long until my family is together again. I love you, Keyleth, and I hope

By the time she gets to the point the unfinished letter ends, she can hardly read through the wall of tears. She holds in her hands her father's unwitting last words to her, and each one of them breaks her heart more than the last. She collapses into a heap on the stone floor, sobbing into her hands; her father did not die thinking her a disappointment. He loved her, fiercely, unequivocally, imperfectly. There will be so many years without him now, so many moments where his absence will loom in the background, a specter always in the corner of her eye. He will miss spring days beneath the flowering cherry tree and winter nights before the fire, huddled close and warm with wine. The years will press on, obstinate and heartless, and she wishes she didn't already know how the ache will dull over time, how the pain will become something she learns to live with, the one villain she will never vanquish.

It takes an hour, maybe longer, but she scrapes herself up off the floor and makes her way back to the cottage, where Vax is awake now and clearly trying not to worry. He has always seen through each and every veneer she has attempted to put between herself and the world, so she doesn't even make the attempt. She takes the baby from her cradle and feeds her as Vax reads the letter, and when he is done, his own eyes red and swollen, he curls over top her, presses an endless procession of kisses into her hair, and whispers his love for her, over and over and over.

Keyleth had hoped that the abrogation of the Ashari Nation would result in fewer decisions on her part, but at least in this short term, as new laws are written and new agreements between the constituent city-states organized, it seems all she does these days is make choices. Luckily, she rarely has to make them alone, relying on the newly-established High Council more than ever, but there is one that everyone, frustratingly, has left in her hands and her hands alone: the fate of Duke Vallen. Keyleth begged Duchess Uvenda to take responsibility for him, to drag him back to Vesrah and dole out whatever punishment she saw fit, but the Archduchess refused, claiming that Vallen's greatest crime was regicide, the punishment for which must be decided by the would-be next sovereign.

So Keyleth lays awake, night after night, imagining the face of the man who killed her parents, who arranged for the abduction of her daughter, who murdered his own family to achieve a throne that no longer exists. She thinks of all the ways she could have him dealt with—hanged from the branches of her mother's tree, beheaded in sight of the Seat of the Ashari that would never be his, drawn and quartered under the judgmental eyes of the citizens he betrayed for his own selfish gain, locked up forever in a cell the size of his shriveled heart, lower than the rats who would come to feast upon his flesh. None of them feel right, satisfactory, just. There is no suffering she can heap upon him that will ever equate to the torment that she will carry with her for the rest of her days.

The solution comes to her slowly, then all at once, a long-simmering ember stoked into a raging inferno in her belly. On a cold night, with the hope of spring just around the corner, Vallen is dragged from his cell, half-starved and filthy, and brought out deep into the wood surrounding Zephrah, far from prying eyes. There is a little clearing, one that, come spring, will likely be beautiful, serene, but now is barren and dull. A wooden post has been spiked into the hard earth, thanks to Grog's inimitable strength, and Vallen is lashed to it, gasping and panicked.

Keyleth arrives when the moon is high, Vax never more than an inch or two from her side. She pulls back the hood of her cloak to look Vallen in his bruised, swollen, fearful eyes. His mouth is gagged, and he struggles to plead for his life through it, but all the honeyed, desperate words in the world couldn't make Keyleth regret this choice. She steps as close to Vallen as she dares, feeling the nervous tension of Vax just behind her—she does not need to see him to know that one hand grips a dagger, the other halfway up to snatch her cloak and drag her back—and whispers, "The world will know the atrocities you committed. They will know my parents were murdered, that the Vesran noble line was betrayed by one of its own." She draws herself up to her full height, her circlet gleaming in the silvery moonlight. "But no one will ever know it was you. When I am gone, when all those who currently know of your crimes have been returned to the earth, there will be no one alive to remember you, to speak your name with scorn or disgust. You will be forgotten, not even a footnote in your own family's story. I do not know what awaits you in the next life, but in this one?" She lifts one hand, summoning the mysterious tongues of flame that do not burn her, and from the sides, two of the guards tasked with bringing Vallen here douse the man in oil. "In this one, you will never be anything more than ash." She gently brings her finger to touch his forehead, and he instantly bursts into flames, the oil catching quick and hot. Keyleth takes a step back, and, after shaking her hand to dispel the fire, laces her fingers with Vax's. She does not blink, though her eyes burn from the smoke and light, as she watches this man crackle and burn, his choked screams eventually fading as the life is torched from his body.

It is a new dawn for Zephrah, for the Ashari people, for Keyleth and her family, but this is still night, and the moon is high and the dark of winter has not yet given way to the light of spring. Whether this is justice or vengeance is of little concern to her; there is one less great evil in this world, this world that is now a shade safer for her daughter.

When Vallen has gasped his last breath, when the flames shrink from the blackened corpse, Keyleth turns to leave, but she is stopped when Vax instead steps forward toward the pyre. He bows his head, just inches from the cracked, charred flesh, and murmurs, "May the Matron usher you swiftly into the afterlife you have earned." He then returns to Keyleth's side, and for the first time that night, tears spring to her eyes. She lets him wrap an arm around her shoulders, just now realizing how cold she is, and guide her back to the cottage where Nel waits with their sleeping daughter, whom Keyleth will lift gently from her cradle so as not to wake her and, kissing her closed eyelids, one then the other, hold until the sun breaks, warm and hopeful, over the snowy horizon.

.

These days, it feels as though Percy's attention is constantly being drawn in a thousand directions at once. His days are largely dominated by the construction of a new government, his largest development project to date, and any free moment he has is spent in correspondence with Chancellor Desnay and other resistance leaders remaining in Whitestone. Legally, the title of Lord of Whitestone belongs to him, has done so since the night his parents and siblings were slaughtered in cold blood, and now all of the choices that must be made for the betterment of the city that the Briarwoods let fall to ruin rest on his shoulders.

The one person who would be his greatest ally in this time, unfortunately, is also the one person he has most trouble speaking to on the matter. Cassandra has become something of a phantom in the castle in Zephrah, appearing and disappearing as randomly and silently as a ghoul haunting the halls. She hardly speaks, hardly eats, hardly sleeps, if the fact that she keeps being found wandering the grounds in the middle of the night is any indication, and Percy is at a loss for how to help. He has not known her since she was four years old, though he has missed her keenly every day in the intervening years. They are, for all intents and purposes, strangers.

So Percy goes to Keyleth, who dealt with a very similar specter all those years ago, when he, too, arrived suddenly in Zephrah, shaken and silent. Keyleth has been extraordinarily kind to open her home to yet another Whitestone refugee, and with all the grief and responsibility she wields these days, he is loath to add another concern to her plate, but he is at his wit's end with his own inability to help his little sister.

Keyleth, being Keyleth, rolls her eyes at his emotional ineptitude. She reminds him of just how long it took her to crack open the shell in which he'd encased himself, how many days of sitting in silence beside him in the library or in the gardens or in the small spaces he'd managed to find away from the others at court. Keyleth points out that his failure to find a way to speak to her likely stems from his attempts to speak at all.

So he finds Cassandra on a chilly morning, sitting on the floor in the empty music room between the harpsichord and the dulcimer, knees tucked to her chest. He smiles apologetically when she startles at his entrance, but instead of asking her if she is alright, as is his wont, he takes a seat just a few feet in front of her, his back resting against one of the legs of the harpsichord. They sit in silence, brother and sister, for an indeterminable amount of time, no sound except their asynchronous breathing and vague footfalls from the hall outside, until Cassandra murmurs, almost too low for him to hear, "Did you know I thought you were the lucky one?"

Percy tips his head to the side, giving her the space to continue.

"All these years...I thought you got to die outside, in the fresh air, under the stars. Not like the rest of them. Not like me."

Percy nods. The anguish threatens to choke him, to suck the air from his lungs until he gasps his last breath. "Sometimes it felt like I did."

And so, day by day, week by week, the de Rolos who should have died over a decade ago begin to build a life together, breakfasts and walks through the garden and quiet words whispered in grand halls. Cassandra makes it clear that she has no intention of returning Whitestone, that she has little love left for the place that kept her in the care of the monsters who butchered her family.

Which is how Percy gets the idea. He cannot hope to serve his home of Whitestone and the newly formed High Council at the same time, not with a child on the way. And Cassandra, though still reserved and apprehensive, clearly has a de Rolo's head on her shoulders, given her newfound proclivity for offering suggestions to his dilemmas whenever he shares them with her. She may not possess any desire to live in Whitestone again, but she is still of Whitestone, and is, in Percy's mind, the only logical choice to be the city-state's ambassador to the High Council.

Cassandra balks, of course, at the audacity of the suggestion, and Percy has to admit that, yes, placing a sixteen-year-old into an extremely important position of a fledgling government is perhaps not the wisest choice, so instead he asks her to stay in Zephrah and serve as an apprentice to Chancellor—now Ambassador—Desnay.

"You are too smart to let your brilliant ideas go to waste," he tells her, "and too opinionated to keep them to yourself."

The bruising pinch she gives him is worth her dubious agreement to his proposal.

There is another proposal that Percy must also make, one that somehow terrifies him far more than suggesting the baby sister he is only now getting know become the mouthpiece for the city he once fled from as a boy. It is not his request for Vex's hand in marriage; that question is asked a mere two weeks after Sovereign Korrin's funeral, which Percy endures through a clenched jaw and sheer force of will. He takes her on an early morning horse ride through the fields on the outskirts of Zephrah, and when the pink sky starts to give way to icy blue, he asks her, no ring, no knee, just a question for her and the wind and the songbirds. She asks if he only wishes to marry her for the child's sake, and he can only hope she believes him when he says that he has thought about marrying her every day since the attack in Syngorn, when all he could think about was how he was about to die without her knowing just how precious and revered she was to him.

No, the proposal Percy dreads making is one he fears she will reject outright. He asks her on a night when he slinks into bed long after dark, when she should be asleep and not waiting for him to finish whatever work has kept him from her for so long. He pulls her in close, palm pressed to the negligible swell of her belly, and rests his forehead to her ear. "Would you come to Whitestone with me?"

The question is quiet, timorous, because the only thing he fears more than letting his people down is disappointing her. She turns her head to look at him, brow furrowed in confusion. "Darling...where else would we be going?"

Oh, he loves her. He loves her, he loves her, he loves her. He captures her lips, relishing in the sound of her laugh, and then he spends what little energy remains in him reminding her of all the ways he hopes to worship her in their many years to come.

.

Vex is used to keeping secrets. Protection of sensitive information is par for the course when one is Captain of the Royal Guard, to say nothing of the silence she held when her brother decided to take up a romance with a literal princess. Her adolescence was pockmarked with little secrets kept from her father, more to irritate him than for any other reason. She herself has never been particularly adept at letting people in, at pulling back the curtain of confidence and cheek she has long set between herself and the world—the obvious exception to this, of course, being her brother, with whom she has always shared her innermost thoughts freely, easily, even when perhaps she shouldn't.

But this secret, this hidden truth, belongs to her and Percy, and that delicate fact feels so very precious. In the first weeks after the group's return from Whitestone, after the death of the sovereign, after Keyleth has announced the end of a nation, Vex returns to her duties, her condition kept from everyone except the tight-lipped Mistress of Divinity. She trains the guards and maintains their schedules and confers with the new High Council about what security will look like in this new age for Zephrah, and when she is done for the day she goes back to the chambers she shares with Percy, who she can tell is cracking under the pressure. Like Vex, he has grown up sharing so much of himself with Keyleth, and she knows that keeping such a large secret from her is killing him.

So she relents in the spring, when her uniform is fitting more snugly than she'd like and Keyleth's grief is not so overwhelming as to be visibly drowning her. Vex and Percy go to the cottage beside the cherry tree and once Vex has swept her baby niece, babbling and joyous, into her arms, she says bluntly, "I'm pregnant."

Unfortunately, at the exact same time, Percy bursts out with, "We're going to Whitestone," so there is quite a long series of confused clarifications before Keyleth is shrieking, throwing her arms around Percy's neck and congratulating and admonishing him at the same time. She's mostly crying, so it is difficult for Vex to make out the specific words, but she comes to understand that Keyleth is more or less happy for them.

Vax, who had been frying up sausages for dinner, sets the skillet aside and bounds across the cottage to scoop Vex and Vilya up in a hug. "Are you happy, Stubby?" he whispers in her ear, and she merely nods, her throat too thick for her to speak.

When he sets her down, he turns on Percy, who, despite having half a head on Vax, shrinks a bit at the scrutinizing glare Vax gives him. There is a beat of tension, and then Vax cracks a grin, wrapping his arms around him, too. Vex grins as her oldest friend and her greatest love embrace, and for the first time since they left Byroden, she realizes that she's managed to build for herself the family she never thought she would achieve.

The night is spent reminiscing and planning for the future. Keyleth laments needing to find a new Master of Development, though Percy points out that the predicament is the perfect opportunity for Zephrah to test its new democratic elections. Keyleth begins scribbling a list of all kinds of tonics and tinctures she wants to send with Vex, for the nausea and the food aversion and the stretching skin and all the other ailments that Vex dreads about the next few months. Percy asks Keyleth to watch out for Cassandra the way her father did for him, and Keyleth swears that, if Cassandra would like, she will be family, just as Percy became all those years ago. When Vex yawns and Percy insists he get her to bed, Vax first pulls her aside as Keyleth and Percy peek in on the baby in her cradle.

"You know how proud I am of you, Stubby?" he says quietly, the shadows cast by the fireplace dancing across his face.

"Big changes for us both," she replies with a nervous laugh. "Will you survive here without me?"

He kisses her forehead. "I wish I didn't have to. But Whitestone deserves the wisdom and guidance that you and Percy will bring, and I am so glad to watch you build a home of your own, a family of your own."

Curse these tears, sudden and hot. "You'll always be my family, brother. You and Keyleth and Vilya. Our being in Whitestone doesn't change that."

"Oh, Vex'ahlia..." He pulls her into his arms. "Nothing ever could. You're not getting rid of me, sister, even if you move halfway across the continent to try."

She laughs. "And you'll come visit? With Keyleth's strange tree powers?"

"As often as you like. You couldn't keep Keyleth from the birth with the strength of a thousand men. And the gods themselves couldn't keep me from my niece or nephew, you know that."

Within a week, Vex and Percy have said their goodbyes and packed their belongings, the bulk of which they send via road toward Whitestone. As for them, they gather at the cherry tree, where they exchange teary farewells with their family and friends before Keyleth tears open a door in the trunk that spills them out into the center of Whitestone, which is mercifully free of shambling undead. The city is still piecing itself back together after its lengthy occupation, and as Percy steps into the role of caretaker of his ancestral home, Vex devotes herself to scrubbing the castle of any and all remnants of the monsters who lived there for so many years. Along with a team of volunteers from the city, those who survived under the Briarwoods' oppression and wish to see their beloved home returned to its former glory, Vex slowly begins to rid Whitestone of the lingering reminders of its tormentors, and after some time, the gloomy cloud of misery that hung about the castle and the town starts to dissipate.

She is blessed with a pregnancy that progresses much more smoothly than Keyleth's had, and even though it is strange for a little life to be quickening inside of her, she finds herself anticipating her child's arrival with anxious fervor. After the nightmare that Vilya endured, Vex sets up a corner of their chambers as the child's nursery, not willing to have their baby sleep so far as another room. Percy obliges her, filling the space with all of the things that remind them of their families: cherry blossoms from Zephrah, raven feathers from Vax, Ludwig's stuffed wolf, the picture books Cassandra loved as a child, a blanket Vex's mother knitted in Byroden, one of the only things Vex brought with her to Syngorn and beyond.

Keyleth and Vax pull away from their important work in Zephrah just a week before Vex goes into labor. Little Vilya toddles around with her father as Percy, Keyleth, and a midwife from town help bring a healthy, screaming baby girl into the world. They name her Vesper Elaina, and Vax cries as he kisses his niece's forehead for the first time.

They wait for the wedding. Repairing Whitestone requires so much of Percy's time and energy, and Vex's days are spent in awe with the new life the two of them have brought into the world. When they do wed, they do so in the center of Whitestone, beneath the infinite branches of the Sun Tree. The ceremony is not merely a union between two souls, but a rebirth, a return of the de Rolo name to the world stage. Each and every citizen of Whitestone is invited, as are leaders and representatives from across the continent, including Devana and Velora, who offer their unsurprising regrets at Syldor's last-minute scheduling conflict. Cassandra still cannot set foot in the castle, not after her lifetime of misery in it, but she holds her niece at Percy's side with Keyleth, Vax and Vilya standing beside Vex, as Pike guides them through their vows. They are short and sweet, neither one particularly fond of grand public declarations of love, though they are fond of grand public declarations of merriment, which is why the center of Whitestone is quickly transformed from a place of ceremony into something of a festival, with music and food and dancing and much revelry and hope for the future of Whitestone and the happy couple.

And that night, when they have retired to their chambers and are happily sore and spent, Percy leaves their bed just long enough to bring their sleeping daughter into it. Vex curls herself into his side, watches the slow rise and fall of her chest in his arms. After a minute, Percy murmurs, "Are you happy, my love?"

Vax was always the one with the silver tongue. Vex lacks the poetry her heart yearns to give him, so she must settle for a quiet, "No one, darling, has ever been happier." And it's true, her happiness, and it is a secret she no longer must keep from anyone.

.

As Keyleth throws herself into the exhausting work of creating a new government from scratch, Vax devotes all his days to his daughter. He does his best to keep his little family together, following Keyleth from meeting to meeting with Vilya in his arms, on his hip, strapped to his back. He won't admit it, but when they are not both in his immediate eyeline, he feels an itch, a nervous rippling under his skin that makes sitting still difficult. He is aware that his presence is often questioned, particularly by the delegates from the other Ashari cities, but he doesn't care; how many times must his family be taken from him before he learns his lesson?

Keyleth, for her part, encourages him to resume his studies with Pike, to take time for himself during the day, to leave the baby with Nel and the veritable battalion of guards that now accompanies Vilya wherever she goes, but he waves her off. He trusts Nel, trusts his sister's guards to prevent Vilya from being taken again, of course he does. It's just the itch.

The nights are their own struggle. It takes Vilya weeks to sleep through the night again, and Vax can only imagine what dreams haunt his baby girl in the dark. So he holds her, pacing large circles around the cottage so Keyleth can sleep, whispering his endless apologies and promises for the future in the dark and quiet. Vax sleeps only a few hours each night, which results in long, exhausted days, days in which Keyleth begs him to go rest, but he only does so during the increasingly brief windows of Vilya's own naps.

So he redoubles his efforts, tries harder to keep his neuroses from Keyleth, who is busy enough with her own work. She is writing laws and establishing norms and conveying power into the hands of her people; she doesn't need to add worries about him onto her plate. He stretches himself thin, flattens himself out until he is invisible, until his every waking moment is spent with his daughter or wife or both, and he can be so consumed with their needs that his own fade away, thunder in the distance.

But the thunder heralds a storm, and the storm must eventually break. On a night, when Vilya begins to stir and Vax scoops her from her bed before she can wake her mother, he takes her out into the dark common room, where he sits before the cold hearth and bounces her, now sitting up all on her own, on his knee. He looks at her, her mother's hair and her mother's eyes and her grandmother's nose and her five-tooth smile, and he sees all that he nearly lost, all of the precious things his carelessness nearly stole from him. Her small, chubby hands reach up for his face, and when her fingers brush against his cheek, the dam he'd constructed for himself crumbles to dust. He begins to sob, quietly at first, then louder as his control over his own faculties ebbs away. He watches his daughter's face twist in infantile confusion, and he brings her to his chest, hugs her tight as he falls apart around her.

As if she can feel the lightning in the air, Keyleth stirs in the bedroom. He hears her get up, open the door, listen for a moment before calling, "Vax?"

There is no pretending, not anymore. He holds their child and weeps as Keyleth comes over to wrap her arms around him. He sobs into her shoulder, weeks of tension and guilt and anger draining from his muscles. Vilya's little fists are curled into his sleepshirt, one right above his heart, and he can only hope that she can feel its beating, that she knows its thundering is for her.

After some time, when he is exhausted and thirsty, he sits up, lets Keyleth dry his tears with the sleeve of her nightdress. "I'm sorry." The words are hoarse, hollow.

"Please don't," Keyleth begs, taking his face in her hands. "I don't ever want your apologies for this."

"No, I mean..." He shifts Vilya, who has since fallen back asleep against his chest, and looks down at her. "I'm sorry for not protecting her better. For not protecting our family. The most important thing in this wide world, and I couldn't keep it safe."

"Vax." She forces his head up to meet her eyes. "Is this what you've been hiding from me all these weeks? Why you've been running yourself ragged, never sleeping? Do you truly imagine there is a world in which I hold you responsible for what we have endured, all of us, as a family? I told you in Whitestone—"

"I know what you said," he whispers. "I know that you meant it. But it doesn't change the fact that I failed in my duty to protect you both."

"No." She stands, fists balled at her side, and Vax is once again reminded that whatever government Zephrah finds itself under today, he married a queen. She keeps her voice low enough not to wake the baby, but he hears the force behind it, how it would echo among the mountains if she shouted. "I will not allow you to take responsibility for the actions of evil men. I will not permit the waiving of their guilt so that you may sit in your own. All of us failed to properly secure this home—you, me, your sister, Derrig, the guards, my...my father." Her jaw clenches tight. "But choices were made outside these walls by villains with blackened hearts. They have answered for those choices, and they alone must bear the eternal weight of their sins. You do not get to alleviate that burden from their souls, wherever they may be rotting."

She stares at him, unblinking, waiting for a response. He stands, presses a kiss to the crown of Vilya's head. "I don't know how to trust myself," he murmurs, "to be what my family needs."

She carefully pries Vilya from him, mindful not to rouse her, and carries her into the nursery, where Vilya has not slept since her return. Her cradle has been replaced with a larger crib, as soon Vilya will have grown too big for the gift from Syngorn. Vax watches through the door as Keyleth lays her down inside, tucks a blanket all around her sleeping form, and returns, shutting the door behind her. She then takes Vax by the hand and leads him back into their bedroom. She pushes him to sit on the edge of the bed and stands before him, running her fingers through his hair.

"There has not been a minute, since you came to me in the dark and kissed away my nightmares, in which my trust in you has wavered, even for a moment." She rests her hand on his cheek, and she is so warm, so soft, here in this darkest hour. "I cannot repair your broken faith in yourself. But I can show you that my faith in you, the only divinity to which I have ever pledged myself, heathen that I am, remains intact."

With that, she gently shoves his shoulders back onto the mattress, and until the inky black of the sky gives way to the pinks and oranges of day, she reminds him that every minute he has spent loving her these past few years, she has loved him just as fiercely.

Vax struggles with the darkness he carries with him wherever he goes, but light, tenacious and inevitable, always finds its way in. He is to be an uncle. His sister is to have a home of her own, in a castle, no less. His daughter, who has had so much taken from her before she even knew she had it, is to have a family, people other than her parents who will watch her grow and remind her every day that she is loved, that she is never alone in this world.

It is difficult, to be sure, to have his sister so far from him, even though he and Keyleth steal away with Vilya as often as they can, using the cherry tree as easily as one might step through a door into the forest surrounding Castle Whitestone. It takes a few visits for Vax to be there without his hackles raised, to be able to allow Vilya to toddle around the grounds and the marbled halls without his hand always hovering just a few inches away. But when his sister brings his squalling, exquisite niece into the world, when Percy shifts her gently into his arms, he knows what it looks like for something beautiful to be built on the bones of ruins. Soon, these grand halls will once more echo with the delighted shrieks of children, and this family, where once there was just a brother and a sister, will sprawl out, fingers of hope reaching far into the future.

As time wears on, and a new normal is forged for Zephrah and for the little family in the cottage on the edge of the castle that now serves as a hall of government, two surprises yet await Vax. The first comes shortly before the inaugural elections of the High Council, in which all of the previous Masters are expected to win their seats with ease, facing little challenge from the generally content populace of Zephrah—that is, until Pike comes to him on a cold winter's morning and tells him that she and Scanlan have decided to take a break from public service, to travel the world and see what other adventures might await them.

Vax, who has grown even more fond of the Mistress of Divinity in her time helping him develop his relationship with the Matron of Ravens, says, "Well, I'll miss you, Pickle, but...why are you telling just me, and not Keyleth and I together?"

She sips from the tea he'd made when she arrived at the cottage. "Because I want you to take my place on the Council."

Vax chokes on his own breath. "I—certainly you don't—what?"

Pike shrugs, as if her suggestion were the most obvious one in the world. "The people know you, they trust you, they know you command respect within the castle and without. You have learned enough in our studies for me to be confident that you can lead Zephrah forward on its path of divinity, at least until I get bored and drag Scanlan back from his debaucherous exploits." She grins conspiratorially.

Vax spins his teacup round and round between his fingers. "Surely I would not be elected over any of the holy people from the temples in town."

"None have yet to throw their names into the ring, though of course, perhaps they believe themselves incapable of beating me, which, fair enough."

"You are well-loved, Pickle."

"I am. Which is why I am confident that an endorsement from me will seal the deal for you."

Keyleth, Pike, Vex, Percy—they all have such steadfast faith in him. Perhaps it is time that he believed them. "Alright. I'll do it."

The second surprise comes a few weeks later, after he has won his election, after the home he chose has chosen him back, when he returns to the little cottage after a long day of meetings with the High Council. Keyleth, who now only attends those meetings when specifically requested, is just opening the door when he arrives, saying her goodbyes to one of the new Mistress of Development's secretaries. When they are inside and alone, Vax, watching Vilya tumble about with her favorite stuffed bear, a gift from her auntie Vex, asks, "What was that all about? With the Development secretary?"

Keyleth is at the kitchen counter, peeling potatoes and carrots for dinner, but he can see by the uneven rise and fall of her shoulders that there is something great weighing on her mind. "Oh. Yes. That. Well." She attempts to peel a potato, misses, then misses again, then sighs, tossing the vegetable and knife onto the cutting board. She turns to face him with a curious look on her face. "We were discussing...modifications to the cottage."

Vax is confused. The cottage is perfect, no leaks, no cracked floorboards, just exactly what their little family needs. "What sort of modifications?"

"Well..." She chews on her lip, fighting a burgeoning smile. "I rather think it will be too small for us as is, soon enough."

The realization comes faster this time. He shoves himself off of the floor, snatches Vilya up in one arm—"Papa up!"—and bounds over to Keyleth to wrap her in the other. He kisses her, hard, grinning, ignoring his daughter's delighted rapping of her fist against his face, before murmuring against her lips, "Are you sure?"

She nods. "Nel confirmed it this morning. She's already working on the proper preparations to make sure things a bit easier this time." She scrunches her nose and kisses Vilya's chubby cheek.

Vax rests his hand along the column of her throat, inspects her face closely. "How do you feel? Not just physically, but..."

She brings her hand atop his. "Happy. A little nauseated. Scared. Sad, that my father won't be here." She tilts her head forward slightly, an invitation for him to knock his forehead against hers, which he obliges happily. "Hopeful. More than anything, I have hope."

Vax pulls his family in tight, smiling at Vilya's grumbled, "Papa, down!" He acquiesces, allowing her to toddle off while he kisses his wife once more.

"Only you," he whispers, breathing in the scent of her hair and the warming vegetables and the winter air. "No one else in this world I'd rather be on this adventure with."

She folds into him, this queen who gave up her crown for a quiet life with him, this miracle for which the gods can never be properly thanked. He does not know what awaits them around this next bend in the road, but he knows that they walk this path together, and that comfort, her hand in his and her shoulder beside him, is more than a thief and bastard could ever have imagined in his wildest dreams.

.

Time moves differently for the cherry tree, which marks its passage through seasons, the growing and shedding of its leaves, the falling of snow and the melting of it, hot days and cold nights. As the seasons come, one after the next, the tree watches the little family grow, entering a new season of its own. The woman spends her time mostly in the gardens, her belly swelling with the lengthening days, her chattering toddler stumbling after her or exploring the small hill she has always called home. The man comes back each evening, tired and happy, peppers each of their faces with kisses, and then presses one final one to his wife's stretching stomach. Spring brings excitement, summer joy, and autumn impatient anticipation.

The tree does not so much mind being used as a door, these many visits between the little family here and the little one in a city far, far away. It is a magic the tree does not pretend to understand, just as it does not understand the magic of the two now buried beneath its twisting roots, the two who, though dead to this world, live on in the next, whatever that may look like. On occasion, people will spill through its cracked bark, and the cottage, now slightly bigger than it had been previously, will house guests, its walls full to bursting with laughter and cheer—or, alternatively, the little family will disappear through the tree, and it will stand a lone sentinel for some time, guarding the house on the hill as best it can until they return, happy but eager for home.

When the nights grow longer and the cherry tree's branches are nearly bare, the midwife is summoned, and the wind seems to hang silent as the world awaits its newest arrival. Pained cries give way to cacophonous squalls, and the tree must wait through the long night for the little family, no longer quite so little, to come outside in the morning, the young girl running to the base of the tree while the man and the woman each carry a small bundle in the cradles of their arms. They are tired, these parents, but each wears a contented smile that makes this autumn feel like high summer.

They approach the tree, and the woman speaks up to the branches, "Mama, Papa, we'd like to introduce our twins. This is Korrin." She smiles down at the tiny boy in her arms.

"And this is Elaina." The man grins, a devilish light in his eye as he regards his new daughter. "My sister will accuse me of thievery, but it's fine. She never was good at sharing."

"I wish you could meet them," she says quietly. The little girl runs up to cling onto her mother's leg. "I wish my children could grow under your watchful eyes. But...I'm happy." The man kisses her cheek. "We all are. And I rest easy knowing that, wherever you are, you have found peace with each other, as I have found here with Vax."

The winds shift, and the little boy she holds gurgles. The man balances the girl in one arm as he reaches a knuckle over to stroke his rounded cheek. "We cannot escape the horrors of our past, the things we have done and the things that have been done to us. But know that we will do everything in our power to make a better, more just world for our children, and for theirs, and so on, so that each new day is brighter than the last."

She rests her head on his shoulder, the autumn breeze tossing her hair as the little girl scrambles about, a stuffed bear in her hands, and the final blossoms remaining on the tree fall, all at once, a brief shower of white in a world of golds and reds. The woman smiles, and closes her eyes, and for a moment, the early morning sun behind her head could be a crown.

[genshin-impact-writings]

The Abyss Prince: Ch.2

(Kaeya x gn!KOF!reader)

Synopsis: Kaeya and you have been dating for a while now and you both honestly couldn't be happier with each other - until Jean sends you on a mission that reveals Kaeya's deepest secret. And you learn that a dark past and your unwavering sense of duty could be enough to destroy a relationship that has always been too good to be true.

Chapter summary: Kaeya muses about your relationship and how you changed everything for him. But he also knows that he can’t run away from his fate forever. (Title taken from: Ramin Karimloo – Why am I falling. The chapter is also heavily inspired by that song, by the way.)

Word count: ~4k

The masterlist for the series can be found in the navigation post on my blog.

Ch.2: Why am I falling

Hours later, when the night had already settled in and you were sound asleep next to him, Kaeya once again wondered if perhaps it had been fate that had led him to Mondstadt – and to you, of course. There was something oddly comforting about that – thinking that his father had left him here all those years ago because he, Kaeya, had always been meant to meet you, not because they needed him as a spy whose only purpose was to figure out how he could bring a fallen kingdom back to its old glory. A kingdom he had never seen with his own eyes, for the record. And yet, everyone there counted on him to save them all (if he could believe his father’s words, that is). 

Despite all of that, no one had ever told him what exactly they expected of him. His father had abandoned him with so little information that it had taken Kaeya years to figure out his true identity. Thankfully, the Knights of Favonius’ library had proved itself a mine of information about Khaenri'ah and the cataclysm that had destroyed the entire nation five centuries ago. Not that the Knights openly shared these books but Kaeya wasn’t stupid. He had his methods to get hold of the documents without anyone noticing that they had been touched at all. 

Of course, he hadn’t focused on these things as a kid when his mind and heart had been filled with childish hopes and dreams and the wish to find a place he belonged. He had only started to take his secret mission more serious when he turned 16, partly because he was so curious about his supposed homeland and its history, but also because he had never given up the hope that his biological father would come back for him once he had figured out how to help Khaen’riah. But of course, he never came back. So, at one point, young Kaeya stopped his research and decided to focus on the family he had instead – the Ragnvindrs. 

And then, in a cruel twist of fate, he also lost them. When Crepus, the only father figure Kaeya had in his life at that point, died, he suddenly realized that there were more important things than pleasing the father who had left his only son behind in the blink of an eye. In that particular night, Kaeya learned that family wasn’t about blood – it was about shared memories, love and trust. Looking back, it really was no wonder that he suddenly started to loathe himself for keeping secrets from Diluc for so long, even more so when he understood that he would never be able live a happy life in Mondstadt if he couldn’t let the past – and his true identity – go. And so, Kaeya, young and foolish and hopeful as he had been, had told his brother the truth, hoping and praying for his help, only to realize that his honesty was enough to destroy their relationship forever. In that night, Kaeya had not only lost his family. He had also lost his faith. 

He could still remember the hatred and betrayal in Diluc’s eyes, the same eyes that had always looked at him with so much compassion, and how they had fought each other that night, their clothes drenched from the rain and their own blood. 

And after the fight, Kaeya had realized that there was no point in protecting a city that didn’t care about him. What was the purpose of starting a new life here if he had no other choice than leading a lonely, miserable existence? So, instead, he had started to focus on his task again, his purpose, the only reason why he was here. And if saving Khaenri'ah meant to tear the City of Freedom down, well, then he was more than ready to pay that price. 

After Crepus’ death, Kaeya had turned into the cunning, reckless spy his father had hoped he would be. Cold and adamant as the Cryo vision that had saved his life during his battle with Diluc, Kaeya had sworn to do everything in his power to fulfill his mission, promising that no one would ever be able to stop him. 

And then, he had bumped into you. And his whole world turned upside down in a matter of seconds.

---

With a sigh, Kaeya closed the book in front of him. Sword fighting techniques in other nations of Teyvat. Not what he had hoped to read today but it was one of these days where Lisa watched everyone in the library like a hawk, making sure that no one even tried to take one of her precious books with them, let alone cause damage to them in any way. He assumed it had something to do with the fact that some of the young recruits always tried to sneak books out of the library to keep studying even after closing times. Or at least, he hoped so – because if Lisa was here to keep an eye on him, he would have a hard time snooping through the secret documents the Knights hid in their archive. But then again, why would she suspect anything? After all, he had never given her – or anybody else, for the record – a reason to doubt his loyalty. 

Lisa raised her head, almost as if she had noticed that someone was watching her, and when she met his gaze, she smiled and waved at him. Calmly, Kaeya returned her smile. No, he was absolutely sure that the attentive and smart librarian didn’t suspect anything. And he would do everything in his power to ensure that it would stay this way. After all, he had promised himself years ago that no one would ever be able to come between him and the success of his secret mission.

With that thought in mind, Kaeya pushed back his chair. He had wasted enough time with this boring book. Time to focus on more important things.

He picked up the book to bring it back to the shelf it belonged, knowing very well that Lisa would only start to lecture him if he didn’t do it. The organization of the library was almost something sacred to her, and he knew how mad she could get when someone disregarded her rules. 

“You’re leaving already?” she asked when he passed her desk, looking up from the manuscript in front of her. The liquid in the tea cup on a tray next to the document emitted a sickly sweet smell, a mixture of spices, honey, caramel and something Kaeya couldn’t recognize. To him, it was truly baffling that someone like Lisa loved extra sweet tea so much. 

He shrugged. “Duty calls.” 

Sometimes, it still surprised him how easy it was to lie to everyone. Only a couple of years ago, he had started to sweat, his hands shaking, whenever he couldn’t tell the truth but now, lying felt as natural and normal as breathing. Despicable, really. But it had to be done.

Lisa chuckled. “My, aren’t you eager. But let me tell you something: Taking a break from time to time doesn’t hurt. In fact, it’s quite beneficial for your work! It helps you to regain your strength and see things from a different point of view.”

“And of course no one knows these things better than you,” Kaeya replied, joining in her laughter, “but I really don’t have time to rest now. There’s something I have to take care of.”

The librarian sighed. “Ever so dutiful. Well, good luck, then. And don’t forget to come around and visit me again soon!”

“Of course.” He was already at the door, smiling at her one more time, although a huge part of him was glad that he could finally leave. Sometimes, he felt like Lisa could see right through him (and everyone else too, for the record), although he was pretty sure that she wasn’t able to read minds, despite her vast knowledge about almost everything. But she was indeed an acute observer, and that made her dangerous, even more so since her and the Acting Grand Master were such good friends. It wouldn’t surprise him if Lisa told Jean about him, should she ever be able to figure out his true identity.

He was so lost in his thoughts and musings that he didn’t pay attention to his surroundings. The next second, someone already had bumped into him with full speed, almost knocking him over. Kaeya stumbled backwards as he tried to regain his balance, his back eventually hitting the wall behind him. 

“Ouch,” he mumbled.

“Lord Barbatos, I’m so sorry!” he heard someone exclaim. Then, an unfamiliar face came into view, eyes filled with concern. “I’m so sorry,” you repeated, clutching the books in your arms tighter. “I wasn’t paying attention where I was going and – You’re not hurt, are you?”

For a few moments, Kaeya could only stare at you, speechless. It was rare that he was at loss for words, quick-witted and charming as he was, but there was something about you that left him stunned. Maybe it was the way you looked at him with those pretty eyes, clearly worried that you might have hurt him when you ran into him. 

He shook his head, a fruitless attempt to get these thoughts out of his head, and finally replied, “I’m afraid I’m just an ordinary knight, not Lord Barbatos. And please don’t worry about me. I assure you it takes more than this to knock me out.” 

“Oh.” You bit your bottom lip. “Okay.”

Were you already losing interest in him? And, the more important question, why did it bother him? He should be glad about it – the more people he let into his life, the more difficult it became to keep his true interests hidden. But a part of you really wanted you to stay here with him just a little while longer. Unfortunately, every statement that came to his mind right now was either incredibly stupid, way too flirty or completely irrelevant. So, what else could he say to you? 

Think, he urged himself, think, you idiot! 

 “So, um…” He cleared his throat when the silence between the two of you got uncomfortable. “You’re a knight, too?”

What a stupid question. The familiar crest on your jacket had already told him that much. But still, you smiled, and almost instantly, his whole world turned brighter. “Yes, I’m (Y/N). I work with Captain Eula and the 4th Company. My pleasure to meet you.”

Before he even consciously decided to do it, Kaeya was already smiling back at you. He wanted to look away, he really did. But something about you made him feel like he was glued to the spot, like his body had actually forgotten how to move. But honestly, who could blame him when the sun was looking right back at him? 

When he finally managed to reply, his voice still sounded a bit too breathless for his liking. “Kaeya. And the pleasure is all mine, (Y/N).”

---

Around four weeks had passed since Kaeya had first met you, and strangely enough, he suddenly had a hard time focusing on his research about Khaenri'ah and his heritage. Whenever he stared at the pages in front of him, all he could see was your face and the way the skin around your eyes crinkled when you smiled. He didn’t know why but he couldn’t get you out of his head. 

And he desperately wanted to see you again.

Maybe that was the reason why he spent so much time at the library recently instead of the archive where the Knights kept the more delicate documents, including all of their collected information about Khaenri'ah and the cataclysm. He was well aware that he had started to neglect his mission since you bumped into him, and while he knew that it probably wasn’t wise to get too distracted by you, he just couldn’t help it. 

Not when it felt like he had escaped after being trapped inside nearly unscalable walls for all these years. Not when he started to wonder if it really was possible to break all the locks he had so carefully placed on his heart to make sure he wouldn’t get hurt ever again. 

Kaeya sighed deeply. It was truly unbelievable how quickly his priorities had changed, just because someone with pretty eyes had smiled at him. But who would judge him? His father wasn’t here and probably never would be, Diluc ignored him most of the time (and besides, he had no idea that Kaeya had actively started to try saving Khaen’riah after their fight), and Lisa would most likely just tease him for falling for someone he barely knew in just a matter of seconds. So, there really was not one single reason why he couldn’t see you again. 

 And only a few days later, his patience finally paid off. He was casually flipping through a book about Alchemy because he vaguely remembered Albedo mentioning once that they used a more advanced form of Alchemy in Khaenri'ah back then (the Art of Khemia, he had called it, Kaeya believed), and he had somehow hoped that this book would give him at least a few hints about this topic. But much to his disappointment, the book didn’t even mention the Art of Khemia, not even once. 

A bit more abruptly than necessary, Kaeya closed the book, glaring down at the cover with its golden twirly letters like it had just become his personal nemesis. “What a waste of time…”

“Books are never a waste of time, Captain Alberich.”

Kaeya jumped with fright at the sound of the familiar voice. Out of all places, of course you had to meet at the library, right under Lisa’s watchful eyes and her uncanny ability to read through every emotion in a split second. But then again, why should he care about Lisa when the way you looked at him was enough to make his heart skip a beat?

He cracked a smile and darted another glance at the book in front of him. “Believe me, this one is. And please, let’s just skip the formalities. I’d prefer if you just called me Kaeya, like everyone else.”

You frowned. “But wouldn’t that be… inappropriate?”

“Please, I insist.”

“Oh.” You paused, a brief smile flashing over your face. “Alright… Kaeya.”

He could’ve sworn his name had never sounded more beautiful.

---

When spending your time with Lisa, you could never be sure what would happen next. Sometimes, she just initiated a friendly conversation about a topic she found particularly interesting on that day while she would spend the entire time complaining about the library users and their poor respect for books on other days. And sometimes, she would start to ask personal questions until the conversation had turned so awkward that the person opposite her was nothing but a blushing and stuttering mess.

Today was one of these days. And her victim was none other than Kaeya. 

Not once in his life had he regretted inviting her to Good Hunter to grab something for lunch that much. 

“You’ve been spending quite a lot of time with (Y/N) recently,” Lisa said, carefully placing down her tea cup after taking a tiny sip. 

Kaeya looked up from his plate, a frown on his face. “And by that you mean…?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’ve seen you at the library more than once, and Amber told me she spotted you at Windrise together. Oh, and Venti recently mentioned that you even invited (Y/N) to join you for a drink at Angel’s Share, although you usually prefer to spend your time there alone.”

“That is-“

“Nothing but the truth,” Lisa interrupted him with a gleeful smile. “Come on, you can tell me – I promise I won’t chatter away. You enjoy their company, don’t you?”

“I don’t think you and me should have this conversation. Please excuse me,” Kaeya said, putting his cutlery down, “I suddenly remembered there’s somewhere I need to be.”

Lisa chuckled. “My, my, Kaeya, you really are impatient today. Is there an important event you have to attend? A date with Captain Eula’s lovely field officer, perhaps?”

“What? No,” he replied quick like a shot, although he already knew that the way his face heated up in embarrassment was enough evidence that he wasn’t telling the truth. Lisa raised her eyebrows, her lips curled into a knowing smile. “You’re a terrible liar, sweetie.”

“It’s not a date. (Y/N) and I… we’re just friends.”

She let out an exaggerated sigh. “You can fool yourself, Kaeya Alberich, but you can’t fool me. I know a thing or two about love and it’s incredibly obvious that you would like to be more than just their friend. And a little birdie told me that this feeling is mutual. You know, it’s almost a bit funny how you have this massive crush on each other and are both too scared to confess.”

“Lisa, please. Stop.”

The librarian laughed again, clearly amused about the absolutely exasperated tone of his voice. “I’m sorry, darling. I’ll stop teasing you about that – for now, at least."

“Lisa…”

“Enjoy your date!” she chirped, followed by an amused giggle, as Kaeya pushed his chair back and fled the scenery, his face still burning like fire.

---

Weeks turned into months, and there was rarely a day where you didn’t see each other. If your duties kept both of you busy throughout the entire day, you would still meet for a walk once you had finished your tasks for the day. 

Today, you had dragged him to Windrise once again. Kaeya had no idea why you loved this place so much but if it made you happy to just sit under the giant oak tree, your head resting on the Cavalry Captain’s shoulder as you enjoyed each others’ company, well, who was he to tell you No?

Kaeya sighed quietly. If his father could see him now… well, he’d probably call him pathetic, maybe even weak for giving up on his mission for a fleeting and foolish thing like love.  

Wait. Love? Was he really… in love with you?

He felt his heart skipping a beat. Up to this day, he had never allowed himself to even think about love, and a part of him had even believed that he was simply incapable of loving someone – until you had bumped into him and proved him wrong so quickly that he sometimes still wondered if you had put a spell on him. It felt like he was falling into a bottomless pit of dreams and hopes he had given up years ago.

Funny that he hadn’t realized sooner how much you really meant to him, even after Lisa had pointed it out. He had no idea how you did it but whenever you were by his side, everything he did wrong in the past suddenly seemed to vanish into thin air, like he had never thought about engulfing Mondstadt in the abyss, should it be necessary for the success of his mission. With you, all of his bad decisions and foul deeds suddenly didn’t matter anymore. And more often than not, he caught himself dreaming about the future the two of you could have if he finally gathered the courage to confess his feelings to you. (Although he knew very well that he probably shouldn’t be dreaming about all of this. After all, a lying traitor like him really didn’t deserve a happy ending.)

“Kaeya? Are you listening to me?” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. You had lifted your head from his shoulder, looking at him with those stunning eyes, clearly concerned. “Are you alright?” you asked with a frown. “You… you seemed to be miles away.”

He stared at you, his heart thumping like mad, his mind going completely blank in just the blink of an eye. How could he tell you how much he adored you? How could he tell you when he felt like every letter and every syllable he had learned dissipated on the tip of his tongue? 

“Kaeya?” 

By the Archons, even the way you said his name sent a shiver down his spine and made him weak in the knees. 

“Hey…” Carefully, you put your hand on his arm, a slightly insecure smile flashing over your face as his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes again, “talk to me. Please.”

“I love you.” The words were out before he could stop himself. (Later that night, he would start wishing he had the time to come up with a more eloquent way to confess his feelings to you.) 

“You – what?” There was no judgement in your voice, just genuine astonishment as you tried to comprehend what he had just said. Kaeya’s lips curled into a soft smile. “I said, I love you.”

For a couple of excruciating seconds, you didn’t reply anything. Then, you shifted closer to him, raising your hands to cup his cheeks. “I was hoping you’d say that one day,” you confessed quietly, your pupils blown wide as you looked back at him. “Because I really love you, too.”

It was right then and there that Kaeya kissed you for the first time. He hadn’t planned on doing it but in that moment, under the soft light of the moon, it just felt right to lean in and press his lips to yours in a soft kiss.

He would never forget how you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and kissing him back, as if you had just waited for him to finally make the first move. Even years later, this would be one of the best and worst memories he had.

The best because it marked the beginning of brighter and happier times, the beginning of his life with you by his side, the beginning of many, many moments he would share with you.

And the worst because he knew that, no matter which road he decided to take in the future, your whole relationship would be based on lies, lies, lies. 

---

It was almost funny how vividly Kaeya still remembered all these things, almost like every single detail was etched into his memory. He could barely recall his life before he came to Mondstadt, let alone the face of his biological father, but he could easily call everything that had to do with you to his mind. 

He rolled over and propped himself up on his elbow to get a better look at you. This was something he would never get tired of – how peaceful and calm you looked in your sleep, like no one had ever hurt you. Careful not to wake you up, he brushed his fingertips over the smooth skin of your cheek before he lightly started to trace the outlines of your face. 

Goodness, how did he get so lucky to have someone as kind and beautiful and compassionate as you in his life? With everything he did in the past, there was no denying that he didn’t deserve you. And yet, here you were, smiling in your sleep as you shuffled closer to him to snuggle up against his body. 

Kaeya lied down again and wrapped his arms around you, slightly adjusting his position, so that he could rest his chin on top of your head as he held you close. “I love you,” he whispered, although you probably couldn’t hear him. “I love you so much.”

This house had never felt like a home. But every time you came through the door and greeted him with this loving, genuine smile that always made him a bit weak in the knees, the dim rooms seemed to brighten up, the feeling of loneliness slowly fading away with every step you took towards him. With you by his side, Kaeya could almost believe that this was where he truly belonged.

But of course, all of that was nothing but a foolish illusion, a lie that he had carefully built over the years and that would ultimately shatter into a million pieces, should you ever discover the truth. After all, no one, not even a prince, could run away from their fate forever. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider giving me some feedback and/or reblogging this chapter. I'd really appreciate the support!

Taglist: @kaeyas-beloved @ajaxstar @the-gayest-sky-kid @justrandomselfships @caesars-bubbles @the-fifteen @quixoticmirror (If you want to be added to the taglist send me an ask. Same if you want to be removed. <3)

[truckreincarnation]

From a Nation’s Ashes || World State

With no nobles left to vie for power, the civil war was snuffed out unceremoniously. In the place of the monarchy, a council of several leaders informed by dozens of qualified advisors shouldered the task of governing Last Haven. The First Council was largely assembled from whoever was present in the capital, available, and felt up to the task (including Theophania, Avery, and – surprising some – Frank). Esmee and Yuliya stayed on as advisors to help get the government off the ground. Vee positioned herself as an advisor on matters of health and public safety, and Harriet offered what guidance she could to the council as well.

The Demon King ended up sending Manami herself to be his representative in Last Haven. While this was reflexively met with mistrust and scrutiny from the populace at first, her public status as the assassin who ended Calum IV’s disastrous reign eventually won over the common folk (and the more reticent councilors). She conveyed the Demon King’s decrees to the council whenever it was required, and did her part to ensure the city stayed a neighbor her beloved ruler could stand. Which, funnily enough, also had the effect of generally making it a better place to live. She also brought the Demon King’s announcement of a new name for the unified territory. No longer would this land be known by the combined names of its extinct ruling line. Now, Last Haven belonged to the Arisen Kingdom.

Once Last Haven’s government had been firmly established for a couple of years and was running smoothly, Theophania and Avery ceded their positions to live more private lives, and Esmee and Yuliya similarly departed. Their replacements, and all subsequent councilors, were elected by popular vote. Anyone with relevant expertise could volunteer or be called upon to advise. With no noble families to snatch up all the seats, it became a government of tradespeople, working witches, idealists, and of course Incarnates.

At peace, real peace, for the first time in hundreds of years, the shattered kingdom slowly, finally, began to mend. The wealth hoarded by the nobles was repurposed and put to more practical uses, such as rebuilding the damaged parts of Last Haven and improving the living conditions of those in the surrounding shantytowns. The nobles’ land, too, was divided among those who needed it more. Magical conveniences became even more widely accessible, now that the bulk of the nation’s craftspeople and witches were no longer dedicated to the all-consuming war effort. Initiatives to restore Calamity’s blighted and barren wastelands slowly began to bear fruit.

In the aftermath of Calamity’s fall and rebuild, one Felyn’mice formerly Arkanana had a lot of work to do. The conflict between the nobles had only inflated the number of Bound. That meant more people who would be in need of her service. Being very aware of the Demon King’s original desire for her death, and coming off a stint in an unpleasant (though not horrible) prison, Felyn had absolutely no desire to stay in Hivemount after her release. She quickly made her way back to Calamity, but not without taking the information that Hivemount had gathered on their own Bound with her.

It was a life’s work, a work of five hundred years of successive scientists really, that allowed for Bound to be returned to their original afterlife. Felyn dedicated herself to it thoroughly. Without having to play politics with the nobles and with proper funding and resources, the project expanded. By the end of Felyn’s long career, they would have a method of saving even the Lost Bound, though it was much trickier than the initial method. It was lucky too, that a number of spirit summoners had been willing to take up her work, training under her to learn the desummoning process. Summoning was, after all, a vital part of transmuting one’s soul through to another world. Soon enough, the method became widely known. Bound came from all over the country to end their curse, though not all Bound chose such an ending. There would always be those that chose to stay until they were Lost. But soon, that too would be treatable. It was only after cleaning up its own mess that this place could truly heal, after all.

Once even Lost Bound could be freed, the population steadily expanded once more into areas long deemed too hostile to occupy. This task ensured there was still demand for adventurers and mercenaries (native, foreign, and Incarnate) even as the peace held. The Solitude Plains, the northern wastes near the former border… even the great swamps became more habitable with the release of the many tormented souls that once wandered there. By the Demon King’s decree, Incarnates were given leave to establish settlements where they pleased within these newly revived lands.

Felyn’s hard work benefited the Arisen Kingdom diplomatically as well. With Lost Bound no longer a threat to neighboring countries, previously frosty relations started to slowly warm. The Dwarven Lands began to trade with the people of Last Haven again, and even allowed some intrepid Incarnates to venture into the country and secure the trade routes against the region’s many dangerous monsters. Tal’nula was slow to discard its grievances, but with their political ally the Demon King in control, they eventually came around as well.

With the war over, the Demon King found new, more diplomatic posts for his other generals, much like he had for Manami. Through their efforts, Hivemount, on the northern coast, became a hub for international maritime shipping and commerce. Should the adventurous among you ever grow tired of exploring the continent they were summoned to, now they have a gateway to the rest of this world.

Even in more peaceful times, Bound progressions could still happen. Very rarely, they could even shake out as so useful they offset their own downsides - as was the case for Manami. Not only did a certain incident trigger the re-unlocking of her old Desire Domain, but the following progression rather literally Split the Difference with the one you'd known her as having. Any of you who had personal dealings with her, or were still on speaking terms, would quickly find out she had two spiritually-linked bodies now - with no fixed upper limit to how far apart they could be! One more strongly connected to Desire, the other Glitch, functionally enabling her to be in two places at once. It was rather useful for her considering all the new responsibility she’d taken on in both Hivemount and Last Haven, and slightly terrifying to imagine the sort of havoc two Manamis flitting around could cause. Or, as they'd come to be known for ease of differentiating between the red one and blue one, Mana and Nami.

The little Cocoon charm you knew was in their possessions might have raised some alarms for the potential mischief she might get up to. But that would probably be fine. The two bodies might have been a little jarring, but despite everything, she was still her. She would always be receptive to entertaining you as guests in her home in Hivemount - not as delegates, but as friends.

Her reputation as a kingslayer was well-established. Manami had dealt the decisive blow against Calamity that kickstarted the final days of the war. There were rumors, whispers from conspiracy theorists that King Calum’s death had been an inside job. But that was ridiculous. Germain and Manami both were committed to making sure the rumors stayed just that - silly, easily dismissed rumors.

There were other rumors too. That the elusive Bound living next to Manami’s Hivemount home was a former royal agent of Calamity (they never denied this). That they were one of the heroes who’d been a thorn in the Demon King’s side centuries ago (nonsense). They didn’t have an official title, but from the messenger birds leaving their home for  the Demon King’s castle or Last Haven, they must’ve been doing some work for the people upstairs. On the occasions that they were at home, and they weren’t occupied with the Demon King’s bothersome delegate clipping through their walls, Germain told the truth (... mostly).

They questioned whether Manami’s frequent visits were a bumbling attempt to spy on them, or simply the nature of their unconventional friendship (maybe some mix of the two), but they entertained her all the same, and any other guests (though they didn’t expect particularly many). Their chains broken, they were frequently on the road, eager to embrace their newfound freedom, yet grateful for a home in Hivemount. Germain had picked up writing again, in their free time. As an adventurer, Germain took it upon themself to ensure leadership was kept apprised of the situation across the nation in detailed, if sporadic, reports. The last regime had forgotten that there was a world outside of Last Haven. Germain would help this one remember.

They had no desire to stay in the city that had restrained them for so long. They didn’t feel the same tugging on their chain, obligating them to help. But they still wanted to play their part, however small. They’d always seen Calamity as broken beyond fixing. But as they wandered, they saw the Arisen Kingdom’s people living happier, safer lives. At home in Hivemount, they saw the walls between old enemies slowly, but gradually, breaking down. They were beginning to understand. This was the world their old friends had hoped to create. The world their new friends brought into being.