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mrskurono · 4 years ago

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title: N/A || Megumi Fushiguro x FemSorcerer!reader a/n: this is old and converted from a fic I ditched with an oc so I reformatted it to a reader x type of deal word count: 1.7k tags: mentions of death, reader is queer (pan or bi you decide), comfort ish fic, fluff, based mostly on the anime since I wrote this prior to reading it character(s): Megumi Fushiguro (jjk)

"Oh, you're awake."

That voice wasn't a surprise. Megumi had heard it before as he lie in bed taking the most of his recovery time. Before it had just been to the tune of his eyes closed and his laying still in bed while she either talked to him or any number of nurses that had come and gone over the past twenty four hours. Sitting up in bed now Megumi locked eyes with his visitor.

A nonverbal acknowledgment to the second year. It took but a moment for the sorcerer to see the small wrapped box you had brought back with yourself. You took heed of your underclassman staring at what you'd brought back. So you took it upon yourself to share without him asking about it.

"Something to eat," you smiled sweetly. Just as you took up you seat once more at his bedside, this time you placed the wrapped box on the table swung over his bed, "I didn't think hospital food sounded good after that long of a nap."

Megumi looked at the fabric covered tote box placed before him, "That wasn't a nap, I was passed out."

"I know," you nodded, no fault of your own as your smile persisted, "Just telling myself it was a nap calmed my nerves."

He looked up from the unopened treat box. Sincerity in your eyes just as there had been from day one. Megumi questioned how someone so soft would align with such a life. He broke eye contact just to look at the box again.

Never had he mentioned having any favorite foods to you. Which was partially true. If it tasted good then he'd eat it. Simple as that. So Megumi admitted to being a little taken back by what you could have brought him that wasn't already just easily provided by the hospital.

"Open it already," you coaxed, "I heard your stomach rumble hours ago before you woke up."

He was famished. No lie there. Megumi carefully untied the knot of the neat lunchbox. Unwrapping it's contents to be more than just surprised about what you'd brought him. Delicately worked on onigiri with the three of them sporting different flavors. Crisp tempura fried vegetables laid carefully next to it. And what looked to be a small cup thermos nestled off to the side. He had an idea whatever was in it probably was as good as the rest of the food laid out.

Seeing the spread all he could muster was purely a question, "Where did you buy this? It looks...nice."

You shook your head, "I didn't. It's all homemade don't worry."

Admitting to the labor that had gone into this gesture only magnified the oddity that was your continual kindness. It wasn't prevalent in a jujutsu sorcerer's life. And simply one not displayed by sorcerer's as a whole. It left Megumi more than a jumble of confused words why his upperclassman could maintain kindness when also baring a curse like the rest of them.

"...thank you, y/n." He looked up from his meal at you, "Really, thank you."

Brimming with a cocky smile that never faded, you gestured to the meal, "C'mon don't thank me without trying it. It could be complete garbage and you don't know."

Megumi handled one of the onigiri as he brought it to his lips. Not meant to hide his soft smile, he still took a pause before biting it, "I know it's good, you made it."

Without a shadow of a doubt he was right. Everything you'd packed into that plain little bento was everything but plain. Delicious down to the last crumble. Megumi hadn't realized it was gone before he was taking the last dribble of soup from the thermos. When he finally set it down to realize his plate empty and stomach full, he found himself wondering once again the same question.

"...you're such a good cook too," Megumi added to the list of things he'd already told you, you were good at. "Why are you here when you could clearly be doing so many other things."

A shrug with a chagrined look on your face, "Well the other second years are just overreacting with the exchange anyways, and you were here so I thought I'd-"

"No," Megumi shook his head to stop the dodging you always did. "I mean here doing this."

This question again. You had run into it a few times before with Megumi's questions as well as some of the other students. It never seemed enough to just say one saw curses. Here they wanted detailed information on what landed someone here. As secretive as the jujutsu sorcery field was. You never felt it necessary to divulge your background like it was some stat to be learned in a comic book. You were here and you were learning. What else did people need?

"...I can see curses. Not a lot I can do with that," you answered just as sweetly as any other time the question arose. Where that answer sat just fine with everyone else. Be it maybe a lot of jujutsu sorcerers were a little self centered. Making your kindness stick out like a sore thumb and get seen more than once as a weakness. It also alleviated the need to elaborate most times. But where you found relief in other's laziness not to ask too many questions. It was Megumi's consistently deadpan prying that perhaps drew you to befriend him. That came with the price of his constant inquiry about why you did the things you did. Especially if they involved him.

So again, for what seemed like the hundredth time now in your friendship, Megumi asked, "How did someone so kind get cursed though."

If it were anyone else perhaps you'd ignore it with a sweet smile. Act like it didn't matter and it was just a fluke in your character. There were a million things you'd would rather do than relive the cause of this career choice. Presented with Megumi's brush with death caused a waiver in your conviction to stay out of personal affairs though. You'd made some superficial friendships here. But when the first years, or at least when two of the three first years, returned from a botched first grade curse mission. Very present negative emotions flooded you. Ones all too familiar and worrisome. You were forced to relive a glimpse of your heartache from years ago. With a heavy heart you knew sitting at someone's bedside night and day warranted some kind of explanation.

"...I...I lost someone," you looked down at your empty hands, "When I was younger of course. I guess they were my bestfriend."

Lots of people lost friends and family. Death was present but not normally the clear cut reason to harbor so much negative emotions that fueled Jujutsu Sorcerers. Megumi looked over at his upperclassman wringing your hands together nervously. If death was the cause he knew this couldn't be easy for you to talk about in a setting like a hospital.

Megumi didn't want to upset the semblance of friendship he respected with you, "You don't have to if you don't-"

"No, heh," Looking up from your hands you smiled through a thin veil of tears threatening your distant glazed over eyes, "I'll tell you because...I was just as scared that you were going to die too. And- well, I just don't know if my heart could handle this all over again."

"Your heart?" He didn't show it but Megumi kindled a bit of surprise in his mind knowing he liked your company but didn't know it was reciprocated beyond courteous nature from you.

A quite nod from you. Your body was present but when Megumi met your eyes it was clear you weren't thinking about the here and now.

"...when I was in primary school I had a best friend I did everything with. She was...she was everything to me." You smiled just at the fuzzy memory, "Nothing fancy I guess, bad things happen everyday. And it was just another day...We were walking home when it happened. A cough, I didn't think anything of it since kids get sick all the time. But before I realized it that would be the last time we would walk home together. The last time we'd do anything together." You brushed the tears from your eyes but didn't let your smile fade, "I couldn't see her before she passed away, something about more kids getting sick and infectious. How I didn't get sick is beyond me. We spent every moment together. Before I knew what happened, my mom broke down telling me she'd died and well...I was just left to process it."

Megumi held his tongue for a moment. There was no trauma. No indicator that it really would be enough to cause anguish such that a curse would be born. While his heart ached for a moment of compassion at your loss, he was still confused as to what upset you enough to bring on the change young Jujutsu sorcerer's experience to put them on this path.

He didn't need to wait though or even ask when seeing the curses started. You looked at him with the biggest grin while tears rolled down your cheeks and in all sincerity finally told the truth to someone, "It wasn't until later when the curses started showing up and my heart never really healed. I realized what was haunting me....I loved her and never got the chance to tell her that."

Loss of love and innocence. Deadly and deceitful to a human. Survivors always carried a heavy weight and you were no different. Megumi understood what inflicted your curse energy. It was something that wouldn't leave you until the day you died. Heart wrenching like all jujutsu sorcerer's, it left one question pertinent to Megumi more than anything.

He looked from you. To the things you'd brought. And finally back at you with the small things connecting in his mind, "Does that mean..."

Your distant stare returned to the present to meet up with Megumi's green eyes. Holding his gaze for a drawn out moment as you fought with what was inside you. Finally you couldn't keep it together and cracked with an incredibly soft smile playing on your lips. You couldn't live with another curse like this so you came clean, "...yeah, I think I love you too."

#tw death mention #mentions of violence #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk writing #jujutsu kaisen writing #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader

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novaiya · 4 years ago

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Imagine Arthur/Sean/Charles communicating with a non-English speaking immigrant reader.

Based on this request: can you write imagines for Arthur, Sean and Charles with a non-English speaking immigrant reader? If not that’s totally okay!! (Imagining the interactions that happen between them and the reader as they try to communicate would be funny ^^)

A/N: This was very fun to write, because at some point, I too was a non-english speaking immigrant. Language barrier sucks, but when you have people like Arthur, Charles or Sean, it sucks a little less lol I’m gonna be honest, as much fun as I had wiring this, I struggled a bit, especially with Arthur. If you look at Arthur’s interaction with people who don’t speak English… It seems like he has little to no patience with them lmfao

It was your third week with this group of people. It might’ve been fourth or maybe even fifth, but you couldn’t tell. All the days have blended into a one, long nightmare.

You have come to this country, the new world, in search of a better life, and instead, turned out worse than where you came from.

Thankfully, a group of people have picked you up, given you food and shelter and only asked for a small contribution in the form of basic housekeeping (more like camp keeping) in return. But even that was proving to be complicated, for you didn’t speak the language that the people did. You knew a few words before coming to America, basics like “Hello”, “Thank you”, “My name is…”, but nothing more. You were planning to continue your studies once you’ve arrived, but it seems like you'll have learn on the go. You were picking up some stuff here and there from the listening to camp members talk. You would attentively listen to the leader, Dutch was his name, and try to memorize the words he spoke. Plan, faith, and money would be common words in most of his speeches, and you’ve already learned their meanings.

Arthur.

You were taking a break, sitting on the edge of the camp and sketching on a piece of paper. You enjoyed drawing. It was a relaxing hobby, and it would remind you of your childhood, back when things were simpler.

“Hey there,” you heard from behind you. You turned around, seeing Arthur.

“Hello,” you said, your accent evident even in such a simple word.

“What you doing there,” he said as he took a seat next to you, looking at the scrap of paper in your hand.

You took a second to process what he just said. You heard the word “what”, and thought that maybe he was asking what you were doing. You didn’t know how to say you were drawing in english, so you simply showed him the sketch you were working on, pointing at it with your pencil.

“Ah,” Arthur exclaimed, understanding you. “You’re drawing.”

You tilted your head, not understanding what he��s saying.

“Drawing,” he repeated. He used his hand to pretend like he’s drawing. “You,” he said pointing at you, “draw.”

“Draw,” you repeated, looking at his hands then at a scrap of paper on your own. “I am drawing.”

“There you go.”

You smiled when you understood. Even a single word was a victory for you. The sooner you knew the language, the sooner you could get back on your feet.

“I draw too sometimes,” he said.

You turned to look at him.

He shuffled a bit, reaching into his satchel and pulling out a notebook. He skimmed through a few pages before showing you one of them. There, you saw a drawing of a horse. Your own sketch, in comparison to his, looked like chicken scratches.

“You draw very good,” you said.

A small smiled tugged at Arthur’s lips and he said, “thank you”

You nodded your head with a smile on your lips mirroring his. It was nice to have conversations. Due to the language barrier between you and the rest of the camp members, it was hard to make any significant connections. Most of your conversations only went as far as “thank you” or “good morning”. Arthur, however, has been one of the only people trying to bridge the gap between you and the rest of the gang. He would often start talking to you as if the language wasn’t a problem, and if you didn’t understand something, he would try to explain with simpler terms, using his hands or pointing at things, like he did just now when explaining drawing to you.

“I know a place not far from here,” Arthur spoke up, pulling you out of your thoughts, “Lot’s of animals roam there; horses, deers. I can take you there and you can draw them. If you want to, that is.”

You took a moment to understand what he meant. You basically understood every word he said, but was having a hard time of putting them together to understand the meaning behind them.

“You and I go draw together?” you said.

Arthur chuckled a bit. It was not exactly what he meant, but it was close enough. Maybe he could use that opportunity to get to know you better, as much as the language barrier would allow.

“Sure, we can do that too.”

Charles

You were walking along the outskirts of the camp, taking a break from your chores to enjoy the nature around you. You could hear the birds sing from every tree, and as you went further into the forest, squirrels and rabbits would run around, not paying any attention to you.

When a bunny stopped almost in front of you, you smiled. You squatted down, almost eye level with the creature.

“I think he likes you,” you heard from behind you.

You turned around, seeing Charles approaching you. You smiled at him, before turning back to the bunny, who was still unfazed by your or Charle’s presence.

Charles crouched right next to you, studying the peculiar bunny like you did. He extended his hand, letting the bunny sniff it. You decided to try too, and let out a small laugh when bunny sniffed your hand as well, looking at you and then at Charles.

“He is very nice,” you said with a smile.

Charles nodded. “They can feel your intentions. He probably knows you’re not going to harm him.”

You nodded. You didn’t understand a word he said, but you still made a face as if you did. You wondered what the english word for bunny was.

“What is his name?” you said looking at Charles.

He smiled at your question. Since you’ve joined the gang, Charles admired your strength and work ethic. Even without knowing the language and barely being able to communicate with the rest of the people, you were a productive member of the camp, and have been working hard on learning the language.

He was one the first people that you talked to, and since then you would often go to him when you needed help understanding something. He was very approachable and always patient when it came to your language barrier.

“Bunny,” he replied.

“Bunny.” Your face was so serious when you tried to pronounce the word, Charles laughed a little bit.

“You got it,” he said. “Just gotta practice and it’ll sound perfect.”

“Thank you.”

Somehow, you ended up spending almost half an hour with Charles, studying all the different animals around, learning their names and a few other English words.

“Thank you very much, Charles,” you said when you finally made it back to camp.

“It’s no problem,” he said. “If you ever wanna learn anything else, you just let me know.” He winked at you before going to his tent.

You didn’t understand a word he said, but didn’t need to. That wink said all you needed to know.

Sean

It was nighttime, and most of the camp members were either getting ready for bed or gathering around the campfire, swapping stories and drinks. Due to the language barrier, you usually skipped those events; you couldn’t understand a single word they were saying and it made you feel out of place. Instead, you preferred to spend your evenings at a small table a little way from the campfire with a children’s book in your hand. You got the book from Abigail, who in turn got it from Hosea for Jack. She would lend it to you at the end of the day, after Jack has finished his lessons with Hosea, so you could learn too.

“What you doin’ here all alone?” you heard a voice say behind you.

You turned around, seeing Sean approaching you.

“Reading,” you said, showing him the book in your hand.

“Oh, that,” he said, taking a seat next to you. “I never understood the appeal of readin’. It’s ploddin’.”

“Plod-ding?” you repeated, tilting your head to the side.

“Well, you know, slow. I prefer to use my time in other ways, stealin’ or robbin’ for example.” Even though his voice sounded uplifting, you could see a hint of sadness in it. The smile that he was trying to put on didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You don’t read?” you said.

Sean took a moment before answering your question, shifting a bit in his chair.

“No, not really,” he said. “Me pa never taught me, and after he died I didn’t really have the time.”

You nodded your head, understanding what he said.

Sean wouldn't let anyone know it, but he was really insecure about his literacy. It’s not often that he needed to read something, but when he did, he was embarrassed that he couldn’t. So instead, he decided to own it, act like he didn’t care and that it was his decision not to learn. Lenny had been trying to teach him for a while then, but it didn’t go anywhere. Everytime Sean would get stuck on a word, or his progress would stagnate, he would get irritated and give up.

“Do you want learn?” you said.

Your words pulled him out of his thoughts. “You mean, learn to read?”

“Yes,” you said. “I read everyday. This kids book. We can read together.”

Sean’s immediate thought was to decline. He’d tried and failed so many times, at this point he didn’t believe he would ever be able to learn. But, something about seeing you, a person who barely spoke a word of English, a stranger in a strange land, trying your hardest despite everything, inspired him. What’s stopping him from doing the same?

“You know what,” he said. “I think that’s a great idea. Let’s meet here tomorrow mornin’. Maybe ol’ Lenny will join us too.”

#arthur morgan x reader #charles smith x reader #sean macguire x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x y/n #charles smith x y/n #sean macguire x y/n #rdr2 fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfics

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plenilune · 3 years ago

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so here's the thing, and this is going to sound completely unhinged in light of a few posts ago, but this is my pretend insane secret diary to a billion strangers, and I don't have to perfectly explain myself* -- the thing is I stopped having most emotions some time ago, and the total absence of emotions in the spaces where emotions would normally pool to fill has made me, in my current insanity, unsure as to whether or not I have ever actually had an emotion or if all of them were simply me feeling what I was told or expected to feel in the moment.

[*I do actually. If I do not perfectly explain myself I will die.]

there was certainly a lot of my childhood in which I was expected to feel certain ways about certain things -- certain types of wonder or curiosity or religious fervour or empathy or loyalty, and some of the ways I performed those expected emotions were good and some were Very Incorrect and needed to Stop At Once, and also not to feel certain things, which other than crippling depression I mostly didn't, somehow* and somewhere along the way I became very numb and confused and frequently don't realise I've had an emotional reaction to something until significantly later, when I still don't feel anything about it but I seem to be experiencing symptoms of having had that emotion. generally this is one of the negative ones because if you have symptoms of having been excited about something or touched by something or whatever they don't tend to make themselves NOTICED, because they're ordinary things that don't stick out. I mean like -- dissociating through a time of intense stress and not really feeling a way about it and then a few weeks later I start having certain types of cycling thoughts or I stop eating or I become very paranoid or avoidant of something related to that experience or have sudden negative stabbing psychic pains when accidentally brushing against a memory related to that thing, but the original emotion about the experience still isn't something I can find or access. things like the time I tried to read a book I'd recently bought that wasn't related to anything bad that had happened to me, but when I opened it the paper smelled so intensely of my incredibly toxic bookstore job that it replicated the stress and mental gnaw of my shifts there in my little electrical feeling producers, which made me feel DEEPLY batshit, especially as over a year had gone by since I'd left that job. or just -- I don't know, this sort of thing happens all the time but my memory is so poor that I can't think of any of it. most of it's been much worse and much weirder but it's very difficult to explain.

[*like, I think I did have a lot of queer and trans feelings as a child, but I didn't process them or notice them and at the time it certainly didn't seem to be making me miserable, that those things were very bad and I shouldn't be them or go near them? they didn't seem to be relevant or connected to me at all. but they certainly seem to have contributed to, say, feeling completely alienated by the existence of my own body, slowly reconnecting to the experience of having a body in my fucking thirties and mostly then because of back and forth dysphoria, and me unable to tell if the previous period of me in my mid-twenties really liking how my body presented as feminine with a new ability to show myself off as potentially desirable was equally real, or something I only partially understood at the time, or me thinking I felt good about an experience I had all of the social structures present to tell me that I ought to feel good about it, and now that not all of those social structures apply to me I have no road map telling me how to feel so I simply don't?

the thing is I still like to be hot now too and I love to be desired and touched (in theory; if more than about five randomly chosen people touch me I will burst into flames, but I LIKE to be TOUCHED by people I LIKE) so maybe NO emotions are real and maybe I'm just an AI poorly and inconsistently programmed, which certainly aligns with my most prominent paranoid delusion, which is that I'm not Real in some obvious sense but if I let anyone find this out I will be Punished and it is the Worst thing that could Possibly Happen. also it could happen at any time because it's very obvious that I'm not a real person!]

[have I just repressed and de-realised all Forbidden Emotions for so long -- since very early childhood -- that I've never figured out how to have them because instead of having them and feeling ashamed or frightened or rebellious like most people seem to I simply deleted them? case in point: I certainly discovered I had some confusing issues about my attraction to non-men being seen as predatory and the existence of my sexual desire for someone inherently damaging and hurtful and a source of shame in a previous very toxic relationship, but in that case the cause wasn't any party's internalised homophobia, I think? but as far as I could examine it, it did seem to stem from a lot of repressed internalised shame from the first two decades of my life set off by the other party's incredibly specific control issues. but why did that shame never switch on when I was, say, making out with a woman I'd just met in a public bathroom years before?]

annoyingly this post seems to have become somewhat bafflingly about my sexuality when what I am trying to unpack is how I don't feel most emotions other than shame and guilt and keep feeling increasingly threatened by the knowledge that other people need and require me to have emotions about things but I don't know which ones all the time and even if I intellectually know what the emotion is I have no idea how to reach for it or perform it adequately and I also recognise that this is VERY INSANE, especially because it started with things years ago like me not feeling very connected to my family and now it's processed to me panicking at work constantly because everyone seems to have all of these feelings and loyalties and base compassions and the capacity for genuine curious interest in certain types of details about complete strangers and I have no idea what ones are being asked of me in an interaction but every time I get through one situation there's ANOTHER one and I'm so braced against someone getting angry at me for having wrong bad or no emotions that I have become hostile and paranoid and feel flickers of repressed electrical rage at perfectly ordinary interactions.

absolutely none of these run-on sentences are coherent. I'd better cut off here for now.

#the diary #i have no idea if any of this is going to help #but i have to start trying to sort out my thoughts at some point because otherwise i am just thinking them constantly with no resolution #and i am only getting worse #and i can't unload this on a single specific human in the world because it is absolutely too much for anyone to have to carry

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acesydneysage · 3 years ago

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My thoughts on how an Alchemist revolution could go

I turned some of the initial points into a one-shot, but I'm very unlikely to actually write anything that sees all of it through to the end, so I'm laying out what I imagine would happen. I could follow the initial fic's format and just write cutesy domestic fluff with hints of what is going on in the Alchemist revolution in the background, but who knows

In The Golden Lily, Sonya thought Sydney's blood might be key to a vaccine, since it was undrinkable to Strigoi. Later, in The Fiery Heart, in their visit to Inez, we find out that it's because her blood is coated in human magic. That makes it taste foul to undead vampires, and also broke her Alchemist tattoo, by countering the compulsion of Moroi magic with human magic.

She eventually uses a similar principle to make the tattoo breaking ink she gives to Marcus, and that she uses to help the other re-education inmates in Silver Shadows.

So, with that in mind:

My initial idea was that one of Marcus' operatives, who got tattooed with Sydney's ink, would suffer a Strigoi attack. Their blood would turn out to be undrinkable. Since Sydney's ink breaks the Alchemist tattoo, the receivers blood would get coated with human magic, like a witch's.

I would like it if that person was one of the people Sydney helped in re-education, because I'd like to think those people stayed loyal to her, and maybe see her as a leader. Just because it's really touching to me how she was still worried about others, and risking herself to help, while she was going through her worst nightmare.

In my fic I went with Sydney's roommate Emma, "the Sydney Sage of re-education", because I really love her. She really did turn out to be the Sydney of re-education, at least in part, because while she was repeating the party line and trying to seem cooperative, she was actually a badass rebel who fights back. There are other reasons, I'll get to that in the end.

Sydney's ink potentially working as a Strigoi vaccine is something important enough that she would risk her truce with the Alchemists to investigate. And since the ink also makes people immune to their mind control, the Alchemists wouldn't work with them like they did for the spirit vaccine. I truly believe that they value their control more than human souls.

I'm sure Declan’s blood will be important to the spirit vaccine. They couldn't mass produce it since it required a recent Strigoi restoration, trapping the spirit before it left the blood, while his blood is described as brimming with spirit. But Sydney and Adrian don't want their son to be experimented on, so that's just more incentive to seek an alternative.

I think Sydney’s ink wouldn't work on Moroi, going by the logic of the magic described in the books (human magic wins out in humans), but helping humans is already a big deal, and it could maybe work on dhampirs.

Meanwhile, the Alchemists have been getting polarized. When it's revealed that some of them were helping the Warriors of Light in the end of the series, while Warriors were keeping Moroi captive, that causes controversy. They eventually start to get divided into factions.

After the US re-education center burns down, those who oppose re-education try to defend that it not be rebuilt, and that other centers be shut down. There are symbolic concessions, but they eventually get basically re-education by another name. Similar things happen when it comes to demands for more transparency, and less authoritarianism in general.

And of course there's a reaction to progressive demands. A hardcore anti-Moroi faction is amenable to teaming up with the Warriors. They're tired of "fighting evil by cataloguing it."

If this faction wins out, they won't actually care that Sydney is blackmailing them into letting her live with proof that they worked with the Warriors, since they openly want that, and they consider her continued existence a humiliation. So Sydney and Adrian wouldn't be able to sit out this fight.

There are more and more defectors who simply leave and join Marcus (or go into hiding and try to stay away from that whole mess). But out of those who stay Alchemists, as things start to devolve into an actual civil war, the moderate faction has a lot of infighting about joining up with the rebels.

That's at least in part because Sydney is one of their most notorious members, and while they might not want to see all the Moroi exterminated, marrying one of them is still going way too far to a lot of them.

So, let's talk allies. Sydney definitely put Marcus in touch with more witches and taught them how to make the ink. And I think besides kidnapping Moroi and dhampirs, the Warriors could be capturing witches too, which would turn them against each other.

In re-education, when it's revealed that Sydney has magic they say that has happened before, and I imagine they handled it with the same amount of compassion. I think maybe Chantal is a witch too and that's why she was fown in the punishment level with Sydney.

Alicia definitely showed that some witches might be willing to work with them for their personal gain, but I think as a community they would protect their own. They wouldn't look kindly on Alchemists torturing witches. And even if they were born into the Alchemists, they chose to be witches, so their allegiance to them would take precedence in their minds. Sydney's coven and Ms. Terwilliger are definitely on board.

I think the rebels might be able to get the Keepers on their side, since they have a complicated relationship with the Alchemists, where they seemto deliberately keepthem dependent. Marcus' stated goal for a long time was helping Moroi on their own terms, that's what he did for a long while. He definitely didn't have any plans to topple the Alchemists in the Bloodlines era, he didn't thinkthat was possible. So they occasionally helped them get better technology and resources that the Alchemists don't want them to have, and they promise to help them further in the future. That gets them the Keepers sympathy.

The Moroi government obviously isn't gonna side with the anti-Moroi faction, but I think they'd try to stay out of the conflict and not be dragged into the fighting for as long as possible. But they've come to depend on the Alchemists too much to keep them hidden, and they're now in chaos.

With the Alchemists weakened by a civil war they aren't really doing a great job of keeping up the masquerade, Moroi secrecy gets very precarious.

Now. While Alchemists claim to be very worried about human souls, absolutely no one in the VA universe seems that worried about regular humans' lives. They don't even know about the existence of Strigoi so they could protect themselves. And yes, there are humans who'd work with Strigoi. Strigoi seem to have zero issue finding those humans as is, they simply tell them about vampires themselves when they wanna get servants.

Now there's a vaccine that could help protect humans, and really reduce Strigoi's capacity to feed, but you have to actually apply them to humans. And more and more supernatural events are being sloppily covered up since the Alchemists are otherwise preoccupied.

I'm sure there are some valid reasons for the masquerade, and humans might not behave amazingly towards supernatural creatures, but leaving them completely helpless to this threat isn't very ethical, and certainly not when you have a vaccine that could help them.

And honestly, as cliche as that argument is in discussions of monster hunting, humans could potentially take the Strigoi out, we have some pretty amazing weapons. Or we could be massively incompetent about a problem that we are fully capable of solving. You know...

So the supernatural world gets revealed, and that makes the Alchemists pretty obsolete. Of course, although they have been weakened by the decade(s) of infighting, that doesn't mean they lose all of their resources and connections all at once, but it would be a huge blow their relevance.

They get splintered into a lot of different groups that can still cause trouble, but they're no longer the omnipresent shadow organization they used to be.

And if this whole process took about 15 years, Declan and his buddies would be neatly protagonist aged in time to deal with the huge upheaval and the new mess of problems brought on by the integration of the Moroi and human world. And he'd more capable of thinking about his own relationship to the spirit vaccine and making his own decisions.

So most of this post was written to be understood whether or not you read Silver Stars, but this final bit is more about what could directly follow. When it comes to the fic I was more worried about the characters and their feelings, and excuses for domestic fluff and hurt/confort. So here's the fic on AO3 and on Tumblr.

In the end of The Ruby Circle, there's indication that Zoe Sage and Stanton, with the incentive of Sydney's blackmail, will be trying to reform the Alchemists. I don't really think they're reformable, attempts to extinguish re-education would basically result in rebranding. @sydneysageivashkov has some lesbian!Zoe head that I think are pretty compatible with my headcanons for an Alchemist revolution, and what Zoe would be doing during that initial period.

I think it could take a few more years, 3 or 4, for Sydney to actually have to leave her home and go into hiding. Declan foes actually get a little bit of a normal school experience. I imagine this whole process going very slowly, as the situation gradually deteriorates. And the witches would now claim Sydney as one of their own, making it a bigger problem for the Alchemists to attack her directly, lest they make enemies of the whole magical community.

By the time Sydney has to go into hiding I imagine Zoe is gonna have to leave the Alchemists as well. The other reason why I chose Emma for the first fic, is that she was in re-education in part for her sister's actions, so it shows that the Alchemists wouldn't be above hurting Zoe for Sydney's actions.

Sydney has very important reasons to join the revolution, and in fact she might eventually not have a choice, but she knows that once she officially breaks her truce with the Alchemists her whole family and even her fellow re-education inmates that she got amnesty for.

I imagine Sydney, Adrian, Eddie and Declan could spend a while hiding in a ranch very out of the way that Chantal and Duncan got themselves. Insert Adrian joke about that escape plan where cute blonde girls had to wear cow girl outfits.

Duncan has been shown to be pretty hesitant to risk going against authority, and Chantal is even more psychologically messed up than Sydney and the rest of them. Sydney feels pretty awful about placing them in danger, but they're both very grateful to her for helping them escape. Also Chantal is a really badass witch, although a bit unstable, I'll eventually find something to do with that, revolution wise.

But Sydney and Adrian would eventually leave and get more active roles in the revolution. I would very much like it to be an actual collective movement and not one special girl bringing down the Alchemists by herself, but I think Sydney would have a pretty prominent role after everything she went through.

This is way too long, but I had fun with it, and if you got this far, thank you for reading 😀

#Rapha's Bloodlines Tag #sydney sage #adrian ivashkov #declan ivashkov #zoe sage #bloodlines series #bloodlines #Alchemist revolution #headcanons #sydrian

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liquid-luck-00 · 4 years ago

Text

Connections 6

Chapter 6

this is based on @thepeacetea daminette soulmate au

Masterlist *** First *** Previous *** Next

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

Grandfather hated soulmates and the entire league shared that sentiment. His Mother was glad for the fact that he did not have any soul mark. That was good he wasn’t tied to anyone; he didn’t have to worry about it. It wasn’t until he was six that something changed, and he was thankful that he was alone in his room when it happened. A thought fluttered through his mind alone he instantly recognized was not his own.

An invisible bond. My soulmate will be affected by the *********** magic that affects me. They are my other half; I have to protect them.

“Tt” Damian allowed to be stated aloud. Protect me huh, as if! That was when it occurred to him I have a soulmate.

Damian bolted up and sat straight. If I have a soulmate and I just heard their thoughts. Well if this was their thoughts. Do they know mine. Damian was beginning to become infuriated with this new piece of knowledge, what struck him as odd was the fact that he felt like something was missing in the thought. It was as if that last piece could help him understand this peculiar event. In that moment, his mother came into his room.

“Damian it is time to go” His mother snapped him out of his thoughts, and he pushed this into the back of his mind. He followed his mother, and this was simply filled away in his mind under things that were useless or frustrating.

---

It wasn’t until three years later would his bond would infuriate him again. As far as he knew nothing was out of the ordinary. No one batted and eye when he already knew how to handle guns, they simply praised him for being a natural and he himself did not think of it either.

But then he had to get ready for the Lazarus Ritual. His mother came to retrieve him and then everything changed. He remembered walking behind his mother blinked and he was sitting in a large room. In his lap was a book filled with drawings. Wait what the Hell was he wearing. He looked at his hands and his skin was lighter, he was wearing a wait is this a skirt. Then he looked up and saw this thing. It was this little red blob with a black spot on its forehead between clear blue eyes. That was when he began to scowl.

The question left his lips before he could process anymore “Maza ank (What are you)?” he practically spat continuing still “Ayn anna (Where am I)?” the blob seemed to only stare in shock.

The little thing looked at him and then smiled. Why would it smile. “I’m Tikki and it is nice to meet you, soulmate to my chosen” it seemed to choose its words carefully, wait why did it respond in English. But it answered half of my question he was about to respond but this Tikki spoke again “As to where you are, I am not at liberty to say.”

He decided to shift to English as this creature seemed to speak it “What is the meaning of this soulmate to your chosen rubbish?”

“just as it sounds you are the soulmate of my chosen. You being here is a result of your bond.” He scowled and stared at the blob and it sighed. “You have an invisible bond but because your other half is my chosen you both have a bond different than anyone else’s on the planet.” He began to scowl harder if that was even possible. “this bond will only continue to grow but know that what one learns the other knows as well. I am assuming it is because of you that my chosen knows how to fight.”

This pulled at Damian’s interest they know how to fight because of me then what do I know because of them. He looked at the blob again and decided to ask “does your chosen know how to handle firearms, before today?” he half hoped he was wrong because if they did his soulmate may just be as dangerous as him if not more if this creature was anything to go off of.

It was quiet and then it nodded “yes my chosen has known how to handle firearms for years now.”

Shit. Well at least I know that they can handle themselves.

“I believe our time has come to an end. Until we meet once again soulmate of my chosen.” It spoke as he blinked and then he was standing on a balcony cliff overlooking the Lazarus pit as they took his grandfather out to his chambers. He dimly remembered his mother calling him and leaving him in his quarters. Then the memory of the ritual surfaced. It was odd he was watching it but it felt detached from himself almost like a video recording, there was no feeling just the ritual and the proceedings but he felt nothing from it.

---

Mari was going through her sketchbook talking about what she was planning for her dad, she blinked and she was walking behind a woman, her aura was deadly so she schooled her emotions and presented a blank face almost bored and then they exited the dark halls into an outcrop balcony of sorts overlooking a large cavern with a pool of bubbling acid green water on the other side.

She scanned the cave and then she noticed several people dressed in all black surrounding another man. From her vantage she saw a cruel face that was surrounded by black and white hair and beard. His eyes were the same acid green as the water and the aura around him as well. He wore a regal robe in a deep crimson accentuated by black and gold designs.

The cruel mad began to speak and she understood it as being Arabic.

“All here are to bear witness to the revitalization of the Demon Head. By the power of the Lazurus Pit…” more was said and then Marinette watched as the man took the robe off and stepped into the Pit. He completely submerged and the water glowed a sickly green and then he remerged. He put on the robe and continued to speak.

Mari knew that what she just witnessed was an abuse of the magic in the water, and she forced herself to remain impassive. She knew that everyone in the room would turn on her if she showed any emotion that would betray her. And then it hit her she knew no one and was talking with Tikki sitting in the parlor of Wayne Manor so how did she end up here. She watched as the man with cruel eyes left and she blinked again and then she saw Tikki staring at her expectantly, and she simply shook her head, Tikki looked sad and then Alfred came in.

“Miss Mari” he tried to get her attention kneeling next to her on the couch, but she simply stared straight forwards. Everyone came into the room trying to find out why Alfred sounded frazzled.

Then she looked up and stared at Jason, she finally found her voice and asked “J… Jay… Jay-Jay why are… why are you covered in chaos magic” everyone was staring at her so she tried asking another way. “Why are you covered in magic from the Lazarus Pit?” everyone looked scared and now Mari was confused as well.

“How do you know that name, Mari?” Tikki asked her, breaking the silence.

“I” she didn’t know how to explain what just happened to her “I just heard it, I saw it, it was it was like a ritual”

“Tikki is this normal for a miraculous holder” Bruce asked looking at Tikki hoping for an answer

Tikki simply shook her head “No it isn’t. seeing the Lazarus arura is for a Ladybug, but this knowledge is not normal…” then she stopped ad gave Mari a knowing and sad smile. “Mari do you think?” Tikki didn’t have to finish the question for Mari to understand.

As Tikki asked her everything seemed to fall into place she was close to crying from fear or joy she didn’t know. “it might be, it’s the most logical.”

“What does this incur exactly?” Alfred spoke from kneeling beside Marinette.

“Her soulmate” Tikki said and that left everyone quiet once again. “Mari knows how to fight, that much you know but what you don’t is that she has never had any type of training. The same goes for several languages she has never studied, she can read a person’s body language without any difficulty, and now this.” Everyone was staring at her now almost like they knew something that she didn’t and that scared her.

Bruce kneeled down and pulled Mari into a hug. And whispered in her ear quiet enough so no one else heard but her “I’ll explain but for now it is okay to cry if your scared something must have happened for this to affect you so much”

Her eyes widened in surprise before she began to cry, and Bruce took her in his arms and together with Tikki left the parlor to her room.

---

Once they were in Mari’s room Bruce wrapped her in a blanket and sat next to her on the bed when the door opened. There stood Jason in front and right behind him were Dick and Tim, further in the hallway was probably Alfred. Bruce glared at them and they closed the door and heard several pairs of feet leave.

Bruce sighed and shared a look with Tikki before he spoke “Pixie do you know what the Lazarus Pit is?”

She shook her head no “not completely, no.”

“What do you know?” this time Tikki spoke.

“I could tell it was filled with magic. It was a pool of bubbling acid green water.”

“you said it was like a ritual can you explain” Bruce tried to keep his voice level. He had hoped to never have to explain this to Mari, Mari looked down into her lap and Tikki flew into her sights.

“He said it was a Revitalization Ritual. Something about a Demon”

He was surprised when Tikki started to speak. “The Lazarus Pit was created by a wish combining the miraculous of the Ladybug and the Black cat. The Ladybug magic allows anyone touched by the water to be revived, healed, and extends their life. It was created by the first wish. However, the Black cat’s magic breaks the soul of the person it touches, thus making them quick to anger and dangerous there is only one exception, but it is more of a rumor as it has never happened.”

Bruce asked without thinking “Can you heal someone from the pit after they come back?” If this is true we can help Jason.

“It is possible, but it would only be stated in the grimoire, and it was lost along with the peacock and Butterfly miraculous” Bruce couldn’t help the small frown but it was soon replaced by shock as little Mari hugged him.

“We will help Jay-Jay with or without magic” Bruce let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and hugged Mari.

“I know” he then looked at the girl and he now continued. “The Pit is controlled by a group called the League of Assassins and the Demon you heard of is a man by the name of Ra’s al Ghul.”

Mari looked pensive “Tall, cruel acid green eyes with black and white hair and beard” she stated as if recalling something.

Bruce just looked at her shocked “yes” he couldn’t believe this how did sweet little Mari meet such a man. “How. How do you know him?”

“I saw him during the ritual” this just brought up more questions, but all his questions died on his lips as he saw Tikki rise.

“Mari you swapped with your soulmate today” she stated it as a fact as if she knew and was confirming it. Mari nodded her head, and Tikki sighed. “I spoke with them while you were swapped it happened right before Alfred came into the room. They were direct and to the point, and I don’t think they knew that they even had a soulmate until today.”

This was news but then again knowing Ra’s despises weakness any assassin in training under him would as well. It also figures if it is an invisible bond, they are so rare that there is very little known how they interact with the soul. In this moment he knew that he would protect the little pixie in front of him wrapped up in a blanket, and he knew that her ‘Brothers’ would protect her as well.

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

Taglist🐞🦇

@thanks-captain-obvious @mandy989 @our-preciousss @readingismyoxygen @birdy912 @shifty-lesbian-retro-goblin @todaylillypads @laurcad123 @deamonangel27 @be-happy-every-day-please @fandom-trapped-03 @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @t1dwarrior-of-earth @saays-bitch @kawaiigiantjudgefish @k-poplunardreams @animegirlweeb @animezodiac707 @weird-pale-blonde-person @myazael @toodaloo-kangaroo @moonlightstar64 @miraculous-simmer7 @wannajointhecrabcult @blackmagicforever @iamabrownfox @inkattbi @i-wanna-be-a-ninja @justcourttee @consumeconstantly @abrx2002 @livelifeauthorstyle @certifiedbidisaster @dreamykitty25 @ironspiderstark @fantasyislive @ertyzeta @dast218 @susiej1118 @sassakitty @lilyreadbooks12 @dawnwave16 @mochegato

#damienette #miraculous ladybug #batman #maribat #soulmate #marinette #marinette stone #ml marinette #mlb x dc #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #damian al ghul #miraculus ladybug #maridami #Connections AU #marinette x damian #damian x marinette

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wisteria-lodge · 4 years ago

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a bird secondary with a *very* unhealthy badger model

i’m pretty sure i’m using both Bird and Badger secondary tools - i just cannot for the life of me figure out which one’s my actual secondary, and which is the model. it doesn’t help that both of them are at least slightly charred. when i was younger, i was surely a Bird secondary, no doubt.

One of the reasons I ask people for childhood stories is I fundamentally don’t believe that sortings ever change. (Maybe that’s the Lion in me talking.) You can build beautiful models that you adore living in, but important aspects of yourself don’t just... fall away. They change, and grow, and level up.

i’ve always loved collecting knowledge, i store trivia better than many a fandom wiki, i’ve studied things just because they interested me, i’ve once memorised a big portion of the pokedex just for fun… you get the idea.

I’m going with Bird secondary as a hypothesis, but this doesn’t necessarily say bird secondary to me. Bird of some kind, sure. But it could still be a model.

when academia kicked my butt (hello, undiagnosed adhd), and i realised my natural talents and good memory won’t help me, i think i burnt my Bird. it really hit me very hard.

That can happen. And it’s brutal. But when a secondary burns from over-use, it’s not gone it’s just... tired.

i’ve started appreciating kindness and hard work, and i wanted to be a person who - wasn’t necessarily the smartest in the room (because i felt that this ship has already sailed.)

There’s a fun word for someone who thinks they’re the smartest person in the room. And that word is “asshole.” :) Seriously, ‘being the smartest person in the room’ isn’t a real thing, and definitely not something to aspire to.

didn’t help that i’ve also acquired a nemesis who was just as smart as me, but an asshole, lmaoo.

Like I was saying...

But I thought perhaps I could be the kind one. the patient one. the steady one. of course, that didn’t work for me with my adhd at all, lol. i am physically and mentally unable to reach that ideal of stable, patient, consistent, reliable. and it hit my self esteem real hard again.

There is some sort of POWERFUL Badger secondary influence in your life, making you believe that you need to be that way too. And you don’t. That’s the entire premise of this system. That there are many ways to solve problems, all equally effective and valid.

after all, not everyone can be smart, and that’s alright - but everyone can be a hard worker, right? it’s not a matter of any innate abilities.

You think the chip that allows you to settle down and focus on doing a non-preferred task in increments over long periods of time is not an innate ability? This is why I hate standardized tests. They test your ability to take a test much more than they test the material. Not everyone *can* sit at a desk in a silent, windowless room and do math problems for four hours. And why on earth should that be that a desirable, rewarded ability? The end goal is not to graduate and start working in a factory like its 1905.

my bachelor degree’s taken me a year longer than it should have, because i’ve started just… not doing my work. didn’t come to class, didn’t hand in my homework, didn’t contact my professors. did everything at the very last minute, if at all. and i didn’t know why.

It’s because you struggle with executive dysfunction. Because you’re neurodivergent.

i’ve felt terrible about it, because i wanted to be a good student, you know? i wanted to feel like i earned that degree. i passed, because i’m bright and i can extrapolate based on the knowledge i already have, and i have a lot of knowledge in this wonky brain of mine - but it doesn’t feel like i… deserved that pass.

for instance, we had this class - literature masterpieces of XX century. we were supposed to read one book each week. obviously i didn’t manage, bc despite reading as if my life depended on it in my early years, i lost that ability sometime during my high school years (when depression hit). so the night before, i’ve sat down, read the wikipedia article on every book and every author on the list, read goodreads’ reviews, sparknotes, whatever i could find. sometimes even fragments of the original text. and i passed that (oral) exam, even with this extremely strict professor. and i felt horrible about it, because i didn’t feel i deserved to pass that. i didn’t read those books! i’ve lied to you! i’ve cheated!

Listen. I’m a teacher, and I am telling you, you deserved that degree. You got the info, you thought about it, you understood. You didn’t trick your strict professor. Your professor did a good job, and allowed you to think and learn and demonstrate your knowledge in a way that worked for you. (Which is what they’re supposed to do.) I love students with ADHD, their brains are fast and non-linear, and yes they skim the reading, but they make connections and take things to new levels and process things in such cool way, and it just makes me feel alive you know?

I actually have more trouble with the opposite type, the student who obviously did the reading, but didn’t play with it or connect it to anything else they know, so it just kind of sits in their head like a lump, not doing them any good. But they are really good test-takers.

then again - doing things the right way was (and still is) sometimes just simply unaccesible to me.

There is no right way to do things. The right way to do thing is whatever makes you happy and gets the job done. But that’s a hard one to internalize. I still have trouble truly internalizing that one. But I’m getting better.

the badger secondary, therefore, is not anything that’s actually… useful to me, most of the time, lol.

You are crushing yourself under the weight of a Badger secondary model.

unless it’s the ~vibes~ of the badger that make professors like me, most of the time - and because of that liking, they’d often turn a blind eye to just how badly i’d fuck up.

I bet your professors like you because you’re an interested, interesting student who brightens up their day. And if they’re turning a blind eye, it’s because they know that people with ADHD struggle with deadlines sometime. And that’s /fine/

i often seem trustworthy and reliable in the beginning, before my executive dysfunction trips me up, and makes me beat myself up for not actually being that.

My thoughts on secondaries and executive dysfunction.

it’s the bird that helps me still achieve anything these days - the knowledge i still have, and the things i pick up along the way, from friends or twitter or online articles. i can bullshit my way through many things, because i know quite a bit about a wide range of topics.

It is so easy to pick up on true bullshit as a teacher. We *know* when you don’t know what you’re talking about. When you put together interesting statements and arguments on the fly - when you pull something out of your ass - it’s still coming from you. That’s just an alternate way of thinking. Also, everything you have written is SO BIRD.

but actually applying myself - which i feel is both necessary to succeed

It’s not.

and the right way to do things

There’s no such thing.

- is just… out of my reach. sorry for the rant, but i’m just so super confused, lmao. if you have any thoughts on this mess, i’d be very grateful. apologies for any mistakes, too - english is not my first language.

English isn’t your first language??? Your English is amazing. You’re a bird secondary, and a pretty brilliant one by the sound of it. And you are torturing yourself because you aren’t living up to an entirely arbitrary Badger secondary ideal.

#sortinghatchats #sortme #wisteria sorts #bird secondary #burnt bird secondary #badger secondary model #executive dysfunction #adhd #teaching

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bookwyrminspiration · 3 years ago

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So. Chapter 11. I have many thoughts.

First things first, absolutely amazing, every interaction the characters had felt so natural and fit together so well, and gosh I just...do not have the words to describe how much I adore your writing.

Now time for what I'm here for: you've got me all fired up again! It's been quite a hell of a while since I've done any real theory or predictions, so I might be slightly out of practice, forgive me if I get any details wrong!

And I don’t really know what all of it means yet, but let’s try to get the simple facts laid out first:

Bronte and Oralie send cryptic messages.

Sophie finds a dragon scale in a random desk.

Linh has a connection to the dragons, like Marella.

Dragons are connected with thunderstorms.

So, are we getting dragon!Linh? Because I am so here for dragon!Linh. At the very least, there’s some connection between them. But there’s…something else.

So, the messages from Oralie and Bronte are absurdly cryptic, and that’s so fucking cool and I love it, but I really really want to dig into what they’re saying now. So that’s what I’m gonna do!

Bronte’s message: Secrecy and redundancy compose the toolkit of those trying to hide. It takes a special someone to see the darkness in the world and not participate. Your infectious light is spreading.

Oralie’s message: Secrecy and redundancy compose the toolkit of those trying to hide. Play a melody for me, and tell me what it says. History will have something sweet to say about you.

And you (via Sophie) put a special focus on the words “infectious light” and “history”.

And I will eat my boots if that is not connected to some grand underlying secret underneath the entire story. Now, given that these two are Councillors and have access to confidential files, and Bronte as old as dirt, and the focus on the word history, I’m willing to bet there’s some dark secret within elven history (shocker, I know) that somehow relates to all this monster business. Cause like…it’s hard to make monsters! It’s crazy that the Neverseen and whatever the new group is called have managed to make so many!

(And I haven't figure out the Secrecy and Redundancy part yet, but I will tell you when I think I may have understood it.)

And what’s even weirder is how easy it was for Sophie and the rest of the kids to develop specific monster traits instead of just. Literally dying. And from weird potion mist, too.

Is there something about elves that allows them to turn into monsters? We know the monsters are unnatural, and when I’ve brought up the idea that elves are being turned into monsters you haven’t really denied or confirmed it, just kind of skirted around the topic. And this could also be the reason the humans haven’t been attacked by the monsters- the monsters are made of elves because elves are…somehow compatible with whatever the Neverseen are doing, and they attack other mythical creatures because I’m assuming they share traits similar enough to elves that the monsters have an interest in them.

But it’s also weird how Bronte’s letter (while actually being kind of a compliment, which I find so funny because it absolutely does not read like it, 100/10 characterization points) implies Sophie is spreading something, something infectious, and I’m sure the usage of the word “light” isn’t coincidence either.

Light is really important to elves, like really important, and it doesn’t seem like something Bronte would say, either, what with his…seeming respect for it (from how he acted when at the Point of Purity and journey back). He’d more likely say something like “bravery” or “strength”, given that (iirc) he’s even used those words to describe Sophie before. So there’s something about the word light specifically that was important, and something about the light being infectous.

And now, elves are living underground. And the monsters were said to appear out of nowhere, too, just…out of the blue. Are the Neverseen using the light to create more monsters? What are the monsters for? Can they turn whatever they’re doing off? Are the Council somehow aware of what the Neverseen is doing because they have access to lots of knowledge the main crew don’t, and that’s part of why they fled underground?

And what’s the connection with the dragons?

(I nearly forgot about the dragons.)

From what you’ve posted, you seem to really enjoy the part of dragons that is unknowable and out-of-reach, so much greater than pretty much every other creature in the world. And that also sounds like a way you could describe the void!

And if dragons could access the void, then that would explain how they appear and disappear so fast, and if they control weather that would be how the thunderstorms don’t come in over the horizon, and simply just happen.

But what does it mean? Why did Marella go to them in…what chapter was it again? I can’t remember. Why did Linh react to strongly to the dragon scales?

And Marella may have the wings, but Linh has the scales on her face (although iirc they’re a different color to the one Sophie picked up, so I don’t think it’s hers and I don’t see why she’d attack if it was), so is she a dragon as well? And if they are, are they different kinds of dragons? And since dragons are extremely territorial (from what we’ve seen and can infer so far) is that going to create problems? Linh already reacted terribly to another scale, so if her and Marella’s dragon instincts get worse, I can see how that would go terribly. Or is Linh a different kind of creature?

There’s just…so many thoughts. I barely got into any actual theories here, oops. But that’s…most of my thoughts for now. Hope you enjoyed? I know I personally enjoyed Chapter 11 immensely, thank you for this wonderful AU!

- pyro

woa this is a lot!! pyro!! i am speechless!! I am. I am ahhh!!! I'm glad the interactions felt natural, I was a little worried they'd feel too out of character but sometimes my need to let them mess around with each other takes over

those first four facts you've laid out do seem to be what I'm hinting at--whether you're correct though, I'll let you find out in later chapters. I have more to say about Bronte and Oralie's messages but I'll get to that later. also, I do have more planned for the dragons, which will be fun!!

will be entirely honest i forgot you all don't know what wings Linh has--but!! her connection to the dragons may be related to her wings! everyone has a pair of wings unique to them, so how that translates to her remains to be seen. Marella with the dragon wings and the interests may seem more obvious, but I think Linh is gonna have a lot more mysterious, confusing connection to the way everything works.

Now! onto Bronte and Oralie's messages!! these stumped me for a while because I needed them to be cryptic, but also riddle-like with some kind of meaning that sophie could figure out if she gave it enough thought. of course, as of chapter 11 she hasn't even tried to figure it out, but it's planted that seed in her mind

a cool thing that I just want to point out: there are a few lines throughout the au that i have taken the structure of directly of from the books and altered their wording. One of those was in a previous chapter where I took the "but her mind was stronger than her body" from book one and changed it. I don't remember exactly what i changed it into as it's been a while, but I know that's one of them. and i did it again in this chapter! if you remember the message Bronte had Mr. Forkle give Sophie, "It takes a special someone to see darkness inside of someone and not condemn them," that's the quote I based his unique portion of the message off of. Oralie's also has a meaning tied to an interaction with her, but it's not tied to a specific quote.

for the "infectious light," you are right, that does have a meaning, and it was important it was those exact words. what it turns out to be, however, may not be entirely what you're expecting. and then there's the "history will have something sweet to say about you" which is a little hint to Sophie, whenever she figures that one out. they are trying to send her a message but she needs to figure out what they're trying to say first!! also, the secrecy and redundancy part does have something more to it, but I'll let you continue theorizing about that one.

my apologies if i'm focusing on this part for too long, but I legit spent like half an hour trying to figure out how to word this to set up future scenes and reveals, so I want to share some of that process!

and it is curious how the elven world is the only one affected...

there's a lot of theories for why it was so easy for them to develop those features, maybe their minds adapt to abilities so suddenly that they're predisposed to other changes as well, or they go quicker. maybe it's fragile, guilty minds that enable them to be taken over by horrors like these, whereas humans are exposed to violence and guilt and grief on a daily basis. I might touch on this later in the chapters, so I don't want to spoil anything, but there so many possibilities!!

moving on to the dragons!! you're right, i do think very highly of dragons and like the inachievability of them in this context. they're not just mindless creatures, they're a lot more complex, as we saw with them having abilities like elves. Sophie doesn't know exactly what it was, but she thinks it was tied to the explosive sounds she heard and the change in the weather. and I could tie them to the void! if we going with intelligent creatures having access to the void (like silveny, though her intelligence is very different) then it would make sense to continue that pattern. and it could explain a few of the mysteries left behind after chapter 7 (6? i forget which one)

like i mentioned before, I do have more planned for the dragons, and that does involve both Linh and Marella specifically. so!! I think some of your questions will be answered in the upcoming chapters, but for now I can't exactly answer without spoiling. but! you are asking the right questions!! you are on the right track!!

and it wasn’t exactly scales on linhs face, more they had they same pattern (the iridescent one) but I might've worded it weird so I can see where that came from. as for whether or not she's a dragon, the only thing I can tell you right now is that she doesn't have the exactly same wings as Marella, and i told you in chapter 9 (i think?) that she could easily hide them like Sophie, Wylie, and Biana. The whole mystery with the scale, however, is one of the things that i can't answer without spoiling, so I guess that tells you there's a lot more to that too.

i also have so many thoughts about the au and !! I loved reading all of yours!! I enjoyed it thoroughly!! chapter 11 may seem slower than some of the more action packed chapters, but it sets up a lot of the lore and background we'll need for future endeavors, so i'm glad you liked it!! I think i introduced a lot of questions in this one too...

I might've missed some of your points (there were a lot, which is excellent!!), so if there was something important I glossed over feel free to send another ask so I can go back over it!!

but thank you for reading this au!! talking about it motivates me to write more and make it more complex!! I mean, we're about 84,000 words in and I'm still going, so. there's a lot more to come!!

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xiaomomowrites · 4 years ago

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zhongli, come down

Genshin Impact | TartaLi/ZhongChi

Summary: “When I’m with you, I feel happy,” his eyes are fixated on the ceiling as he speaks. Childe, on the other hand, can’t look anywhere but at him. And although he speaks of his happiness, there are deep waves of sorrow rolling off of him. Zhongli’s makeup had washed off when he took a steaming shower, leaving Tartaglia to see the dark circles under his eyes and the faint wrinkles underneath. The light in his eyes had dulled without the bold presence of his usual red eyeliner, and it seemed as though his face appeared more sunken in when the light hit him at a certain angle.

Childe’s heart pangs in his chest. Sometimes, his husband really looks his age.

Or, Zhongli and Childe visit Snezhnaya, but there’s a certain adeptus on Zhongli’s mind.

Find it on Ao3!

WARNING: this fic contains mentions of death/minor character death. Read at your own risk!

This part takes place between act V and act VI, which is still in the works~

A/N: I had meant to get this out earlier, but I live in Texas so we’ve been having sporadic power outages for the past three or four days. I had spotty connection and it was freezing in my house so this ended up a little delayed! Plus, act VI really just doesn’t wanna be written :( I want it to be perfect before I post it though, I don’t wanna give y’all mediocre Tartali food lol. But I hope you all enjoy, I’ll be adding a little message at the end if you’re interested, so stay tuned. -u.n.

Zhongli felt another full-body shiver rack through him when the wind whistled by again ruthlessly. Archaic divinity and equity aside, he wanted nothing more but to spit and curse the harsh ice beneath his feet. He had all but lost feeling in his fingers and toes as he stood still in the snow, waiting for Childe to finish grabbing them coffee. The Harbinger had offered the drink out of the kindness of his heart when he had seen how badly Zhongli was shivering, as if they hadn’t come here together before. Zhongli accepted the coffee with enthusiasm, knowing it makes Childe happy when he accepts his gifts.

He found himself at the doorstep of Snezhnaya with Childe, visiting his family for the year as they did each November. Unfortunately, November through February seemed to be the harshest that the winters got. The weather would breach zero degrees and drop past negative ten, the wind would lash furiously past parkas and scarves and mittens and kiss bare skin. And Zhongli, in all his divine beauty, would miss the warm summer nights of Liyue so much that he needed to remind himself of how much he loved his husband just to agree to get on the train with him.

Childe, his darling ginger, simply hummed alongside him and tucked Zhongli’s arm beneath his own to keep him from slipping on the ice. His time in Liyue had not shaken his immunity to the cold at all. His other hand sipped at the warm coffee encapsulated in green cardboard, humming a happy noise from the back of his throat. Even if it was a one time occurrence years ago that ended with minor bruising along the ex-Archon’s back, Childe never let him live the moment down and swore to hold onto him every second they found themselves in his hometown. Zhongli had insisted that he need not pace himself just to walk alongside an old man like him, but he had just pinched his cheeks, kissed his nose, and reminded him that he wasn’t that old.

“You’ve got that sexy rich-middle-aged-man thing going on for you. Except, all your money comes from me, and you’re actually six thousand years old,” Tartaglia had told him then, beaming up at him so brightly it made Zhongli blink.

Soon enough, Zhongli finds himself at his in-law’s residence. He takes a deep breath, preparing for the onslaught of Childe’s siblings enthusiasm, and waits for Childe to knock. The Harbinger grins at his anticipation and raps his knuckles against the comforting wood. Not even a beat later and the oak swings open, revealing Teucer, Tonia, and Anthon. They’ve all gotten so big since he last saw them, watching them grow fills the ex-Archon with pride. Zhongli finds himself smiling, squeezing Childe’s hand partially because he’s overwhelmed with joy, and also so he doesn’t slip and fall on his ass too hard when he’s tackled.

Seconds later he finds himself with an armful of red headed siblings. He stumbles, but thankfully Childe’s there to steady him upright. Zhongli squeezes his hand again in thanks.

“Mr. Zhongli!” One of them screeches in his ear, “You’re back! Do you have any presents for us?”

“Mr. Zhongli!” Another one yells, “did you bring me a new book?”

Luckily, Tartaglia’s mother begins barking at her children to reign them back inside and to ‘leave the nice man alone’, so that he has time to readjust and step inside the warmth of their cozy abode. Zhongli smiles, cheeks red and ears redder, and bows as deep as he can.

“Thank you for having me,” the honey-like voice glides against the wooden walls like it belongs there, “it is a pleasure to see you all again.”

“Oh stop,” his mother-in-law gushes, “we’ve seen you every year for years now, honey, drop the formalities!” she waves him off while pulling her own son into a bone crushing hug. “And it’s good to see you too, hun.”

“Hi mom,” Childe responds sheepishly, careful not to squeeze her too hard, lest her back start cracking again. He raises a hand to cradle the back of her head with a fondness reserved only for her. “Where’s dad?”

The question hangs above their heads heavily. A beat of silence passes before she smiles warily and squeezes her son’s cheeks. “He’s at the fireplace, Ajax.”

Childe nods, and eyes the urn sitting high above the crackling fireplace. It’s a beautiful marble urn that Tartaglia paid for in full, with a single ruby gem nestled right beside his father’s name. Even in this state, his father has the largest presence in the house. It is a presence even Zhongli can acknowledge and respect. The thought pushes Zhongli to squeeze his hand and mutter, “Go?”

Tartaglia nods, and swallows hard. Zhongli urges him forward carefully with a gloved hand against the small of his back. His mother watches him go along with sullen and somber eyes. And it is only when Childe is stationed in front of the fire, a single gloved hand covering his mouth, when Zhongli breaks the silence.

“So,” Zhongli begins, turning to his in-law. “The last time we spoke, you promised me a recipe for that delicious meal you served us last year. Were you able to hold up your end of the contract?”

The red-headed woman beams up at him and grabs at his hands. Her hands are so small, so soft and delicate, Zhongli wishes nothing more but to protect this family with his life. And well, that makes two of them.

“Of course, dear,” she says excitedly, “come with me.”

The next hour or so consisted of Zhongli patiently waiting in the kitchen while his mother-in-law bustled around, excitedly explaining the process of dough rolling, frying, meat filling, and then frying again. Zhongli watched with fascination, always one to appreciate cultures from all around the world. He hummed and nodded in confirmation every once in a while when she would turn to him, asking him if he understood, and he smiled.

Tartaglia came padding into the kitchen later, eyes slightly red and puffy, and Zhongli didn’t need to ask if something was wrong to understand what was going on. He knew all too well of his feelings of conflict toward his father in the past. Now that the man himself was gone, Zhongli could only imagine the things Childe was feeling at the moment.

Zhongli never exactly had a family to grieve, anyway. As far as he knew, all the family he had was in this very house alone.

And Xiao, the voice in his head whispered, snapping him out of his reverie. Zhongli blinked the voice away. Now was not the time.

“Talking behind my back, Xiansheng?” Childe teases, coming up behind him to snake his arms around his waist. “That’s not very husband-like of you, you know.”

“Yes, yes,” Zhongli played along, “your mother and I were just discussing how unruly you are in the morning, and how you leave wet towels on the floor after you shower. Truly a horrendous habit, Tartaglia.”

The ginger pouts over his shoulder and leans in to bite his cheek, reveling in the way Zhongli squeezes one eye shut in a faux flinch. He quickly kisses the flesh he sunk his teeth into and settles back against his husband.

“Smells good, mom.”

“It always smells good, Ajax,” she tuts, waving her spoon in his face, “what do you think of your mother, huh?”

“Why am I being attacked,” Tartaglia pouts, the end of the sentence lilting upward in a whine. Zhongli clicks his tongue at his behavior and pats his head reassuringly.

“The food will be ready soon,” he reassures, “besides, she was just telling me all about a soup that I must try my hand at next year.”

Tartaglia groans dramatically and leans all his weight against Zhongli in response.

—

Night falls, and Childe finds himself lighting the fireplace in the room they stay in upstairs, letting the flames embrace the room in an auburn glow. His siblings are tucked in and finally quiet after Zhongli’s endless stories of Liyue. His mother had turned in an hour earlier after smothering the two in kisses, and the couple had stayed in the kitchen for a bit sipping wine and conversing in the moonlight. After downing a good amount and feeling a light buzz through their systems, they called it a night and headed upstairs, pinkies linked as always.

But Zhongli was off during the entire conversation. It may have seemed like he was himself to an outsider, but Tartaglia knew better. He knew when his husband was somewhere else. He had seen it too many times before.

So later, when Zhongli finds himself sitting on their windowsill rather melancholic, watching the snow fall, Childe regards him with a careful stare. The ex-Archon eyes the way the snow falls so tenderly yet so purposefully, as if they all held a secret that even an ancient being like him didn’t understand. He shivers at the cold that seeps in through the windows and kisses his fingertips where they meet the glass, and cradles his hand back to his chest slowly.

“Zhongli,” Childe calls. The said man turns from the window, eyes bright and oddly wet. Oh, Childe knows that look. “C’mere,” he beckons. Zhongli obeys and pads over to where his husband is situated on their bed. He crawls onto the mattress next to him and slumps against the headboard, still deep in his thoughts.

The Harbinger looks at him with concern and squirms over to where Zhongli sits. He uses his chest as a pillow, wrapping his arms around a lithe waist and tucking his nose in the crook of his neck. He breathes deeply the mature scent of silk flowers and feels his heart thump happily in his chest. Childe stays quiet for a moment, and allows himself to focus on the rise and fall of his sturdy chest. Zhongli runs the length of his palm up and down Tartaglia’s side as he ponders.

Childe decides to break the silence before he falls asleep. “What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, voice barely above a whisper. Zhongli’s hand comes up to his hair and scratches at his scalp the way he knows Childe likes it.

“Nothing. I am just… thinking.” His voice trails off pensively.

“Hmm. As usual,” he hums, “what about?” Childe prods gently, knowing there’s a fifty-fifty chance his husband will indulge him.

He’s quiet for a moment. Far too quiet. Childe wonders if he should drop the subject.

“Xiao, actually,” he says suddenly. “I am thinking of Xiao.”

“Xiao,” Childe parrots, confused as to why the legendary adeptus lingers in his beloved’s head at a time like this.

Zhongli sighs, and his shoulders hunch forward, eyebrows furrowing in mild discomfort. “Whenever I am with you, I cannot help but think of him.”

Childe’s eyebrows shoot up to his forehead. “Elaborate?” He’s only mildly offended, but he jests nonetheless in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

Zhongli chuckles and pushes a thumb between Childe’s frown. “Not like that. You know there’s no one in my heart except you. Besides, he’s like… family to me. I simply care deeply for his well being.”

Childe offers a wry smile. He knows, he’s just teasing. “So what’s wrong?”

“When I’m with you, I feel happy,” his eyes are fixated on the ceiling as he speaks. Childe, on the other hand, can’t look anywhere but at him. And although he speaks of his happiness, there are deep waves of sorrow rolling off of him. Zhongli’s makeup had washed off when he took a steaming shower, leaving Tartaglia to see the dark circles under his eyes and the faint wrinkles underneath. The light in his eyes had dulled without the bold presence of his usual red eyeliner, and it seemed as though his face appeared more sunken in when the light hit him at a certain angle.

Childe’s heart pangs in his chest. Sometimes, his husband really looks his age.

“When I’m with you, I forget all my troubles. My burdens are made lighter simply by your presence. I forget what it felt like to be a part of the Archon War, or what it was like having so much blood on my hands. When I’m with you, I forget all of that. And I am happy.” Zhongli’s tone of voice certainly does not match the topic he speaks of.

Still, Childe gulps. The ex-Archon can be too sappy for his own good, he might have a heart attack.

“Xiao, on the other hand, carries burdens almost heavier than mine,” he speaks as if it were an irrefutable fact. Although Childe wants to protest, he allows him to continue. “Millennia of suffering. Centuries of torture. Generations worth of karma building up on his plate. And he has no one he can turn to to help him forget; no one to help him bear it. Xiao is… alone.” His voice cracks pathetically.

Ah.

The wind turns colder. There’s a chill that goes through the room, and it seeps into Childe’s bones. The Harbinger’s eyes dart to the fireplace, almost accusing it of not doing its job. He’s mildly aware of the new presence outside of the window that reeks of karma and a heavy heart. The tidal waves of grief and remorse spill into the room, and Tartaglia almost wants to wave a hand in front of his face to waft the energy away. Nevertheless, Childe dismisses it knowing that it is harmless, and turns all of his attention on his partner.

“What about that traveler,” Childe offers, “Xiao seems to be fixated on him.”

Zhongli shakes his head. “Young Traveler is far too free spirited for that, and Xiao is the type to only give his heart when he is certain that the source is stable and everlasting.”

Childe nods in understanding. He’s the same way, after all. “He was right to give his heart to you.”

“And yet I betrayed him, did I not?” Zhongli asks.

Childe frowns once again. He wills his voice to not sound too accusing when he asks, “In what way?”

Zhongli waves his free hand in the air, trying his best to convey the emotions that had been eating at him all evening.

“I am here, parading away with my husband while he still watches over Liyue per my request. Even though our contract ended, he still persists. He still fights the demons of the gods I slayed myself. He still is trapped by the shackles of Liyue, cleaning up my mess, worshipping my name, while I lay here wondering if I want coffee or tea when the sun rises.”

His voice wavers. Childe’s heart tugs. The Harbinger shuffles closer and squeezes him tighter.

“I can’t help but feel as though I am responsible for his suffering. I am the one who summoned him, am I not? The fierce Yakshas… oh how truly amazing they were,” Zhongli rambles, fingers tightening their hold on Childe. “And now they are all…”

“Zhongli.” He cuts him off sternly. The man in question shakes out his reverie, glassy amber eyes meeting cerulean. Childe brings a hand to his cheek to caress the sinfully soft skin there. The ginger leans in, pressing his forehead against his temple and pleads.

“Stop,” he whispers, and then his hand finds purchase on his husband’s neck. “Stop.”

“I am not worthy of it any longer, Ajax,” Zhongli’s voice warbles, “all I want is for Young Xiao to rest and finally find peace. I no longer want him to have nightmares, asleep or not. I want to be the one to be rid of his burdens. I want him to be happy, Ajax, I want—“

“No,” Childe interrupts again, “there is nothing you can do, my love. And I’m so sorry you feel that way. I truly am. But his suffering has nothing to do with you anymore. Xiao looks up to you—“

“But he shouldn’t.”

“Xiao looks up to you,” he persists, “for a reason. He adores you, okay? No matter what you do. No matter what you say. No matter how you look. Even if you’re skin and bone and wrinkly with gray hair, Xiao would still admire you. Your strength has withstood the test of time, and so has his loyalty to you.” He brushes a stray hair from Zhongli’s face and continues.

“You were the one that saved him. Have you ever thought of that, old man? You saved him and named him. I mean, if someone were to pull me out of the abyss and give me a hug for god’s sake, I probably would have turned out different,” Zhongli’s eyes soften even more, but Childe refuses to make this about him. He thumps a fist against Zhongli’s chest in mock petulance. “Xiao respects you because you deserve it. It is as simple as that.”

Zhongli is quiet, pondering, so Tartaglia takes that as an invitation to continue.

“You have served your time bearing your burdens. You have saved souls and you have killed your own share of demons, and you fought to get where you are now. You deserve a break, Zhongli. And you don’t need to feel guilty that someone out there hasn’t been liberated of their own issues. You of all people understand Xiao’s strength. Probably more than Xiao himself, right? So have faith in him, Xiansheng. And know that you don’t have to carry the burden of freedom on your own. Burdens are meant to be shared, and I’m your husband, remember?”

“Oh, how could I forget,” Zhongli chuckles as he jests. His voice still warbles, but Tartaglia will take what he can get. Childe pinches his cheek playfully.

“Sooo,” Childe trails off, running a finger down the length of Zhongli’s pale neck. “With that being said, I think you should enjoy the time you have now, with me, instead of reminiscing about the past.”

Zhongli nods.

“After all, I won’t be here forever-”

“Do not.” Zhongli interrupts, looking away. His chest stops fluctuating, and it takes a moment for Childe to realize he was holding his breath. And just like that, his defensive wall is back up again. Tartaglia looks at him with wide eyes. Obviously he had struck a chord he hadn’t meant to. The grip Zhongli had around the back of his neck tightened like he meant to keep him close to his chest forever; greedy, selfish hands continue to grasp at the back of his shirt.

“Oh,” Tartaglia breathes, “I’m sorry, I was just joking.”

“I know,” Zhongli all but whimpers, “but my brain doesn’t exactly register those kinds of things as jokes.”

Tartaglia nods, unsure of what else to say. So, he ditches the thought of saying anything, and lifts a deft finger to tilt Zhongli’s face back to him. He abandons his words and leans in instead. He captures his God’s lips with his own and presses close, desperate to show him that he’s there. Tartaglia’s alive and well and very much in love, and he’s there. He’s not going anywhere; he wouldn’t even dare to think about going anywhere. Their marriage was more than a contract, it was a covenant. The vows that were sworn on that night kept them glued together, and only ‘til death do they part.

Well, until Ajax’s death, at least.

The thought makes Tartaglia’s head pound, and he shakes the thoughts away with determination.

“I’m here,” he reassures anyway when they part, kiss-bruised lips brush against his cheek as he speaks. “Let me prove it to you.”

Zhongli nods wordlessly, cupping Childe’s face with one hand and dragging the Harbinger onto his lap with the other. They press against each other, nice and close, so that one would not be able to decipher where one began and the other ended.

“I love you,” Tartaglia confesses into the dark, breathless. Zhongli drags him impossibly closer.

Xiao takes that as his cue to leave, the wind chill harsh and no longer gentle as he vanishes into thin air.

A/N: Okayy I’m gonna get a little serious in the end notes hehe so if you wanna skip out on that, thank you so much for reading! And I hope you have a wonderful week :) find me on twitter @/xiaoscribbles and AO3 @/unironicallynapping

I wanted to write this because I’ve been on my own journey to recovery lately. My family suffered many losses in 2020 and since then, I had been struggling to get back on path and find a healthy mindset. But there’s a passage that I read in a book I’ve been reading that covers the guilt we sometimes feel when we recover, knowing and know that there’s someone out there who is suffering, too. The guilt can become unbearable, but it doesn’t need to be felt. You can take your feelings of guilt and turn it into something good. You can enjoy the life of recovery you’re living while still being there for those who need it. You can show someone you love them while also reveling in the happiness that you deserve. You don’t need to feel like you don’t deserve it just because you recovered, and someone else hasn’t. Everyone is on their own path, so rejoice in the fact that you’ve made it to your own happiness!

I hope this fic/message spoke to some of you. It’s a really important message to me, and I just wanted to share :)

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #zhongli #childe #xiao #tartaglia #character study #domestic bliss #childe x zhongli #rex lapis #tartali #chili #zhongchi

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xyvainex · 3 years ago

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“It Was Me All Along”

“Don't you think that being so afraid has made you feel exquisitely alive?”

The meaning of this quote is that if you are afraid of someone or afraid to do something, you are scared because you genuinely think something bad will happen to you. Afraid is filled with fear or regret about an unfortunate event.

Jeffery Deaver is one of the famous authors who writes good novels, he was born on May 6, 1950 in Illinois, United States. Jeffrey is an author with more than forty novels, and three collections of short stories, these novels have made him appear around the world. His father is an advertising writer, while her mother is an artist. Jeffrey’s sister, Julie Deaver, is also an author like him and she is making young adult novels. “Afraid” is an original short story written by Jeffery Deaver. The characters in the short story are Antonio, Marissa Carrefiglio, Olga, and Lucia.

Antonio and Marissa met at an art gallery a month before everything happened. After both of them hung out for a month, they decided to spend their long weekends together at Antonio's vacation house. Before going there, Marissa felt that Antonio was suspicious because of the "crazy woman" she met and asked her about Lucia. When they reached their destination, they toasted and ate. Then Antonio went down to the wine cellar and got the wine. Marissa is curious about Antonio's wine cellar, so as she steps forward, Antonio shuts it and says it's not clean there. As she walked down the wine cellar, she noticed things related to his story, which she had told Marissa. A searing wave of panic raced through her and pooled in her belly; she had to escape. Lucia, the woman in the photograph with Antonio, died last year. Marissa connects and analyses everything that happens, and her heart is pounding. According to Antonio, fear creates beauty, but it opens people's eyes and rearranges their views and perceptions. The only difference is that instead of musical notes or painting, his medium is fear when those who have lost the true path of life consider the mission to help.

Antonio helped Marissa in deciding her life path. It's a tremendous help for Marissa, but he shouldn't have been involved in her life because what he did may have scarred her. When Marissa got out of his vacation home, she could have phoned the cops on him, resulting in Antonio's arrest. Antonio kept Marissa's interest throughout the story. He made matters worse by scaring her instead of making her comprehend things, but he stuck to his mission to help Marissa. Antonio was the one who asked Marissa the question. When Marissa got out of Antonio’s vacation house, she read the note that Antonio left inside the doll. Marissa was furious, tearful, and quivering after reading that question, “Don’t you think that being so afraid has made you feel exquisitely alive?” While Antonio went out of the house and went to his car to get away from Marissa. Antonio gave Marissa space after what he did to her. When Antonio asked Marissa through the note, if the feeling of being terrified made her feel alive, it freaked her out but she thought about it, and she eventually understood that Antonio was simply helping her in her life path because she appeared desperate and he simply wanted to help her. She then gathered her thoughts and dialled a phone number from the paper. It's risky to put your trust in strangers, as Marissa discovered.

Marissa should have been more mindful of her surroundings, especially given her lack of familiarity with Antonio. A month is still not enough time to go on a vacation with someone. Marissa is flawed to the point that she put too much faith in Antonio to grasp what he was up to all along. Antonio should have plotted everything he was going to do before executing it through. Both of them learned a valuable lesson in the end.

Even if Antonio believed that his goal would help Marissa discover her true path, suppose he believed his actions would benefit Marissa somehow. In that case, he should be aware and consider the experience she will have during the process. Antonio told Marissa about the urge she was feeling. While Marissa is staring at the cliff, she is starting to feel chills and her heartbeat is beating fast because of Antonio's statement. “To throw yourself in. It's the same thing people feel when standing on observation decks or the edge of the cliff—that strange desire to step off into space. No reason, no logic. But it’s always there. As if—” Antonio understands and knows what the people feel about the cliff. He limits his statement not to harm Marissa and she would not think in a bad way. As Marissa’s confusion and suspicion towards Antonio rises, she begins unfolding Antonio’s actions one by one as they go on with their vacation.

Because of Marissa's curiosity, she entered the open door. Upon entering she saw a porcelain doll and dark brown streaks of blood on the wall. And on the wall were dark brown streaks-blood, Marissa understood-left by the prior occupant of this chamber, Lucia, who spent the last days of her life in terror, trying vainly to scratch through the stone with her bare fingers. The match went out, and darkness surrounded he collapsed on the floor in panic, sobbing What a fool I've been she thought. I'll die here, I'll die here, I'll die

Marissa: “But I knew I could help you.”

Antonio: “Oh, right now you hate me, of course; you are furious. Who would not be? But, Marissa, ask yourself this question, put it in your heart: don't you think that being so afraid made you feel deliciously alive?”

Antonio wrote in a letter that fear creates beauty but it opens people's eyes and rearranges their views and perceptions, the only difference being that instead of musical notes or painting my medium is fear. When I see people like you who, as Dante writes, have lost the true path of life, I consider my mission to be to help them find it. The night in Florence, the night we met. I chose you because I saw that your vigils were dead. And I quickly understood why your dissatisfaction with your job, your oppressive father, your needy ex-husband. Even if Antonio’s goal is to help Marissa Discover her true life path. He believes that doing that would help her be more alive. But he did not consider that Marissa might be traumatized by his actions or the process Marissa will undergo. Because of Marissa’s curiosity she entered the door and a scary thing happened. Those things helped her open her eyes and discover her true life path. But those things also made her scared.

Antonio just wants to help Marissa, and this becomes his mission. So he plans everything from the start and helps Marissa with her own problem, because Marissa is so stressed out about her family business and she really wants to be a fashion designer. So this gives us some of the ideas and lessons from this story. For me the reason why the author wrote this is because he wants the readers to learn from this book, he wants them to realize the consequence of doing an action that you are not sure what would have happened if ever it goes the wrong way. He wants to prove that we can help other people by doing several things or simple things. This text is important because it shows that there's many ways to solve a problem, and we can learn from our mistakes or problems. This text tells that all of us can understand the consequence of our actions, because we never know what is the possible outcome.

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cammmerrroniii · 4 years ago

Text

Fever Dream

The night air is crisp and cool as usual at the Jorhouse. The mighty Nein have recently returned from Eissel Cross and were recovering from the events that had unfolded there.

Caduceus, in an attempt to comfort everyone but mostly himself, immediately busied himself in the kitchen making some of his special tea. The Willinghams, he thought to himself, they should make the perfect brew to settle these rascals. He looked back through the door leading into the foyer and saw Jester, so excited to see Essik tomorrow, bouncing around the room adding her own touches to the house to make it feel more homey since they’d be here a while.

Caleb sat in the corner pouring over a book, as usual, but every now and then you could see his eyes just glazing over the top of his worn and slightly yellowed pages to watch this little blue teifling work her “magic”. Veth was in her room, preparing little presents for Yeza, apparently their anniversary was coming up soon and of course Fjord was up there teasing her as he does.

Meanwhile, Yasha was sitting cross-legged on the second story balcony looking over the street, processing everything that had happened. The things that had occurred that she never thought possible. Seeing that coat had brought back so many memories; memories that she’d tried so desperately to bury with the others. She knew blaming herself never helped anything but she couldn’t help it. And then there was Beau. Oh Beau. Beau, Beau. What have you done to me, she thought while watching the neighbor’s peeking out their windows at their house for the fifth time.

She let out a sigh and thought about why she had acted the way she did around Beauregard. She felt that itch begin to rise once more inside of her. It always started this way, her toes would tingle and make her legs ache to run. The sensation would travel through her muscles like a ripple, until she found herself clenching and unclenching her fists and looking around for an exit. But Beau, with her captivating blue eyes and crooked smile, had complicated things.

Unbeknownst to Yasha, Beau was up on the roof staring down at the Aasimar woman. She knew she needed to talk to her about the poem, but she also knew that she sucks with feelings. She’d been watching her from afar for a while now, and, thinking about it, she thought about how stalkerish she probably seems. She took a deep inhale and deftly got to her feet without making a sound.

“Hey Yasha! I was wondering where you were hiding” she called out acting like she had just stumbled upon her.

“Oh!” Yasha jumped slightly in surprise, “Hallo, Beau. I’m sorry. I thought I had told everyone I’d be up here. Were you looking for me?” She had said where she would be. They all heard her.

“Yeah! I mean, no, well I mean not for like a long time or anything I mean, don’t worry about it, aha!” Gods why is she so weird all the time. Beau parkoured down to the balcony and leaned awkwardly against the rails for a second. “So, Yash....” Fuck, why didn’t she think of something to say first?!

Yasha looked up at Beauregard through her lashes expectantly. “What is it, Beau?”

Beau swallowed hard. “Um, ah. So that, ah, poem.. I uh gave it a read”, quite a few times, though she neglected to mention that part. A surprised look that was a mix of nervousness and horror spread across Yasha’s face. With everything going on, she had forgotten about that silly little poem.

“Oh, uh, that’s.. good. Yeah I, um, Jester gave me the idea and um she thought... I mean, uh, I-I thought that you know I,” she chewed on her words for a second. “I have been thinking about you- I mean, thinking about telling you how I feel, that is. So.. what did you think?” She bit her last few words off sharply and held her breath.

Beau knew that something had changed in Yasha since she had gotten her wings back. She saw it more and more as the barbarian woman continued to slowly open herself up to the group. She looked her over for a second and did, in fact, notice just the faintest bit of white at her roots and her skin held a light shine to it. She was literally glowing, and radiating beauty. Beau shook herself for a moment and realized she had been staring at Yasha awkwardly for a few seconds while she was clearly anxiously awaiting her reply.

“Um,” she cleared her throat and sat down beside Yasha, their knees brushing against each other as she did so; the slight intake of breath Yasha did at the contact did not go unnoticed. “I think that you definitely have a way with words that is unique. And I wanted to tell you that, if I understood your poem correctly, I’ve felt the same way since the first day I saw you.” She told her honestly and unabashedly, though her heart was hammering into her ribcage.

Yasha stared back at Beau, looking a bit stunned. They sat in silence for a few moments, though it wasn’t as awkward now that they’ve both discussed somethings out loud.

“Beauregard,” Yasha started slowly. “I care very deeply for you. And I don’t want you to end up hurt again because of me.” Beau looked like she was going to say something but Yasha cut her off. “I’ve been going through big changes recently and accepting everything has been a big part of that. And I forgive myself. For Zuala, and Molly, and you most of all. I-I need to go for a little while, not very long, I promised you I wouldn’t leave and I’m going to keep that promise but I just need to go and commune with the Storm Lord. He sent me these visions in my dreams and I know I must go there in order to complete my change and prove myself worthy. I didn’t want to tell anyone, old habits die hard I guess. But, I cannot hide things from you. Not anymore.” She opened her eyes that she wasn’t aware she had closed and looked back over to Beau. She was thinking. Yasha could tell because of the way the tip of her tongue just slightly glazed over the corner of her mouth repeatedly.

She’s going to feel betrayed, that I’ve lied to her. She’ll never forgive me, Yasha let herself think.

“I understand,” Beau finally said. Yasha looked at her in surprise. Of course she understood. As blind as Yasha is, even she could tell that underneath all of that bravado - and abs, oh gods so many abs - Beauregard understood Yasha on a far deeper level than anyone ever had. Beau connected eyes with Yasha and grinned. “But I’ll be expecting a kiss when you come back to me.” Yasha heart did a back flip just thinking about kissing Beau. She couldn’t form words as her brain got all goopy, so she simply nodded.

They both got to their feet slowly and stood facing one another. Yasha leaned down and gently laid her lips onto Beaus forehead. Beau was grinning like an idiot when Yasha pulled back.

“One for now, and the other when I come back. I promise.”

“Good luck.”

And with that, Yasha hopped the railing and landed perfectly on her feet. She began walking to her destination, already planning the kiss. She looked back one last time just in time to see Beau fist pump the air and do a little happy shimmy before she saw Yasha looking and froze, sheepishly waving goodbye to her before ducking into the house.

—————-

It was late, Beau would guess around 3AM. The witching hour, she thought to herself. Yasha had left some two or three weeks ago and Beau hadn’t been able to sleep very well after about the first week of her absence. They were still at the Jorhouse and everyone was fast asleep.

She quietly crawled out of bed and slid out onto the balcony, looking out in the direction Yasha had left.

The group did not take the news of her leaving well at first, mainly because they were concerned for Yasha’s safety. But, they all understood and came to the resounding conclusion that she could take care of herself.

“Who in their right mind would mess with Yasha,” Fjord had said. “She could bench press all of us with one arm if she wanted to.” Beau let some dirty thoughts of Yasha bench pressing her seep into her gutter of a mind and Fjord had scoffed at her while Jester wiggled her eyebrows and cackled at Beau’s expression.

“Ja, our Aasimar friend will be fine. She has a new belt that I’m sure she’s itching to add some notches to.” Caleb had remarked.

“And I can send her a message!!” Jester squealed, about to do just that. Beau had grasped her blue friend gently and advised against it.

“Yasha just needs some time alone, I think. Just her and the Storm Lord. She’ll be back soon.” Beau gave a small smile to Jester, who grinned knowingly back and gave her a small nod in understanding.

Looking out over the cool and quiet streets thinking back to the day Yasha had left and the conversation they had had, Beau couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched. She heard a thud and spun around to see a tall figure standing over her. Long white hair, glowing eyes boring through her, and though covered in dirt her skin shone through dimly.

“Yasha!” Beau startled out. She didn’t have much time to process before Yasha enveloped Beau with her arms, pulling her into a warm hug. They stood like this for a few moments, just basking in each other’s embrace.

“I missed you Beau. I mean, I missed all of you. But, you know what I mean.” Her voice sounded faintly of angelic chimes and hums. They pulled apart though staying very close as Beau looked up in awe.

“You look.. different. Still very beautiful, though.” She blushed at the fact that she just straight up said Yasha was beautiful to her face which was literally only a few inches away, oh my gods. “I’ve never seen someone after a change like this before.”

Yasha just smiled softly, and gazed at Beau for a moment. “You’re beautiful, too.” And then she leaned down and captured Beauregard in a mind blowing kiss. For both of them, it felt as if this were the first time they have ever kissed another person. It was electrifying.

As Yasha was welcomed back into the Nein, her family, there was something there in the back of her head that was just overwhelmed with joy and love that she had finally found her soulmate. And as she connected eyes with Beau across the living room of the Jorhouse surrounded by their family and friends, she knew that Beau felt it too.

I know this is super long and I’m so sorry. But this is the dream I had and was told to write so I wrote it for you guys. I hope it’s okay, like I said, I’ve never written fan fiction before. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If it’s terrible, also please feel free to DM me, I always accept criticism so long as you’re not being, like, a huge dick. :)

#beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #beauyasha #critical role #fanfic #fan fiction #it’s a lot longer than I thought it would be #that’s what she said #I’m so sorry #hope you like it #fluff?#just soft things

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some-dr-writings · 4 years ago

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Kokichi and Kiibo x the SHSL Strategist

Kokichi Oma:

· You were a fascinating case to Kokichi. Despite being called the Super High School Level Strategist, no matter how hard he looked, he saw no sign of your talent anywhere. You never went about doing things in the most efficient way, you seemed to only be average in games like chess or backgammon, you didn’t even seem interested in anything that used much cognitive activity, most daydreaming in class, the teacher having to go to extremes to regain your attention. Your eyes were never focused, always just staring off in the distance at something only you perceived. You were also oblivious of your surroundings, often bumping into things or tripping and falling over. What exactly were you always day dreaming of he wondered.

· At first he pulled some pranks on you, quickly escalating in intensity, but you never seemed to notice. He soon just started following you. Mimicking your actions, wondering if he could understand you better through this. Well, he learned you walked a lot. You’d often wander off campus, just going wherever your feet lead you. Sometimes you’d find your way onto a construction site and balance along those surprisingly thin beams, other times you’d slip onto a ship, sit on the railing and lean back, looking to the sky or the bridges the boat passed under. When you’d inevitably get caught, you never acted guilty of sneaking aboard, nor did you act like you had no idea where you were, “I just happen to be here.” Was the only explanation you’d ever give.

· You never spoke much either, you’d only answer questions, and those questions were always met with no response or single sentences.

· It was so strange it was as if you were here, yet not at the same time. You were aware of your surroundings, and not.

· Wanting to learn more, he kept following you, wherever you went, no matter how far or downright dangerous the path you tread or how long it had been since either of you last slept or ate. He kept following. You found so many beautiful sights in the most unexpected of places. Some hidden grove in a park, amongst the scaffolding of a draw up bridge, atop the roof of some person’s house, hidden away in an abandoned town where plants had begun to take over, a railway that ran along a lake where the city in the distance appeared to float atop it.

· One time the pair of you sat atop a tram for a while. Kokichi reflect on his time with you. You had met a lot of people, many were very kind, some not so, but… those kind acts outshone the bad so much. It was rather nice seeing. “Sometimes, you need to be reminded the world is not as bad as others try to make you think.” Kokichi’s gaze snapped to you. For a moment he thought he was hearing things before you turned to him. “Thanks for reminding me of that.” You smiled, holding you hand out to him. “Uh, you know my name, but I never introduced myself. My name, it’s Y/N.” With a beaming smile, and wide sparkling eyes Kokichi took your hand into both of his. “I’m Oma Kokichi!”

· You began to talk sometimes, mostly little comments about your surroundings. At school you started approaching him, but you’d simply watch mindlessly. “Hey, Y/N, what do you think?” Laying on his bed, crayon in hand he turned to you, presenting his sketch book. You looked to him inquisitively before pointing to yourself. “Yeah silly! Show me your talent! I want to see the ultimate strategist at work!” “… But it won’t be fun anymore.” “Huh?” You pointed to the sketchbook. “If I think, if my head’s not empty, you won’t have fun. Making the plan is fun, but if I think, I’ll get everything done in the best way, there’ll be no surprises or challenges. I’ll forget people are people and not board pieces again.”

· So that was why…

· After that Kokichi started asking for your input more and more. He’d keep you up all night, making scheme after scheme together. Eventually you gave in and went all out when planning. You were brilliant, terrifyingly, spine-chillingly so, getting the most amount of victims while using the least amount of materials, even sketching out escape routes. If Kokichi didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were a completely different person with how you so logically chatted away, going through your thinking processes and explaining everything in such detail while still being engaging, but… Kokichi knew you. This was the side of yourself you feared, always trying to run away from. After all, in a world of pure logic, if your mind was always buzzing with how most efficiently to do things, likely, you’d be awfully bored and lonely, you could maybe even do something crazy because of that maddening boredom like destroy the whole world over night.

· Kokichi would follow your plans, but sometimes, he’d add some twist, not tell you completely what he was planning, and he managed to even catch you off guard a few times and you became his sole victim. You soon took to trying to out smart him, sometimes succeeding, sometimes failing. You were much more present after that. You’d freely speak with others, always so cheerily smiling. Sometimes you overly pragmatic side would seep out, which when left unchecked could scare others and yourself with how little regard you held for others, but you managed to hold it back most of the time.

· One day during one of your many escapades off the campus you and Kokichi were loving the view sitting atop the bus, that was till some cops spotted you. Kokichi took your hand and the pair of you ran. The pair of you used your surroundings to your advantage and managed to lose then, but your excited laughter kept giving your location away. You only managed to escape when you dashed into a train just as it was leaving the station. You and Kokichi kept giggling to yourselves watching as you sped past the cops. “That was so exciting!” “Yeah, yeah! We should do that again!” “Great idea! My goodness we should have started this long ago! We could have been running all this time instead of just being caught, but I guess the younger me probably wouldn’t have seen the point, but I had no idea this could be so fun!” You looked to him, a light blush spreading on your cheeks as you hesitantly squeezed his hand. “Everything is always so fun and exciting with you. No matter what it is. Heh, heh. At this point I can’t tell if it’s just because you are you or because I have a crush on you.” You chuckled at yourself, finding this situation rather silly, not noticing how Kokichi was a giggling mess, hugging and nuzzling into you. “Aw~ Y/N~ You just made the WORST mistake in your life. You’re stuck with me now! I like you too.”

Kiibo:

· You hummed thinking over the question. “Well, Humans as a whole, as a collective are predictable. That’s how I can misdirect people, lead them away so I can be the only person in line and just get my shopping done with. Such predictability is so boring, and sad. The only excitement I can find anymore is interacting with others on an individual basis, learn of their past, see if they’ll open up to me, find out what makes them tick, when in the context of interpersonal relationships, each person is so unique and unpredictable. It’s the only excitement I can find anymore honestly. Connecting with others. It may seem cold, like I only see others as entertainment, but… Hmm, I’m not sure how to explain it any other way. Even if I don’t like a person, I still want to get to know them, who knows, maybe I’ll find some trait in them I could admire, you’ll never know till you try! So, even if I’m more fond of certain individuals, I want to know everyone, and everyone deserves to be treated with decency, you never know what exactly others have been through, it could possibly make their day if you treat them like a fellow human being.”

· You were a social butterfly, always smiling and friends or were at least on friendly terms with just about everyone. You always were able to read people. You were everyone’s confidant, their best friend. Kiibo was quite impressed with how you were able to keep up with everyone. It did get him to wonder though… Did you like anyone more than the other? Like, say, have a crush on anyone, like how he had a crush on you? You didn’t seem to have a biases towards anyone, but… could you maybe? And that was your answer, the answer of the Super High School Level Strategist.

· You were so smart, able to manipulate people. You weren’t that great at battle tactics or making plans or at board games, but you absolutely knew how to control the masses. You understood people, their emotions, their thoughts. This fascinated Kiibo, you seemed to be what Kiibo wished he were. He was still learning about people and himself, about emotions and how it could relate too and affected logic. Kiibo was desperate to learn all he could from you, and about you. You seemed to see emotions in a logical way, a way most other people didn’t seem to perceive it as. “Oh, well, a good way to start is to see things from their perspective and position.”

· It was not often, but when Kiibo got a moment alone with you, he always learned so much and had fun. In the moment he didn’t think of it, but he wondered. Since you treated everyone the same, even those you didn’t like… Was he your friend? Did you, in fact, not like him at all? He certainly liked you, but… he had no idea what you thought of him, at all. And would you even tell him the truth if he asked? Would you lie so you could still be with him and learn more about him? The more he thought about it, he soon realized that he had a crush on the you he had made in his mind, not… not the real you, whoever that was. Then as he thought more on it, he wondered if you were lonely. If you had any real friends. Were you happy like this? You said that connecting with others was the only excitement you had anymore, so what if you weren’t happy, but this was just the best you could find…

· How were you… the real you, he wondered.

· And so he had a new resolve to know you. “You connect with others, but what about the other way around? Do others know you?” “Well, people are more inclined to open up if the other does so too.” “But how deep is that connection! Does anyone really know you?” “… What’s gotten you so curious?” You leaned your elbows on your desk, resting your chin on the back of your interlaced fingers. “I want to know you, the mastermind behind the strategist seeking excitement.” Your gaze sharpened, turning to something dark. It wasn’t much, so simple, just the tiniest shift in expression and yet that single look terrified him. You also smiled, a smile practically inviting him with how naturally kind it was. “I’d like to see you try.” There was a light chuckle bubbling up in your voice as you spoke. It was deadly serious and threatening, yet playful.

· Though slightly confused and scared Kiibo went ahead befriending you again. You wondered what Kiibo would find out. What he would think of you. This was certainly not a development you were expecting, you were curious to see where this would lead.

· And so this sort of game between you and Kiibo began. And well… Kiibo only fell for you the more and more he got to know you. Nothing about you was fake. You were able to appease others and get to know them while still being honest with yourself. You used your skill set so much without other’s notice, mostly stopping fights before they could even begin. You also acted a little differently with Kiibo than with others. You were a bit colder and more methodical while still having that warmth in your voice. Everything, your entire world, was logical. Every last aspect was like that.

· It was a bit of a slow process through. Despite being able to so fluidly move through any social situation, you didn’t feed off of it, in fact it drained you being an introvert. You liked people, but you couldn’t stand to be with too many for too long. It was also a very slow process for you to open up. You were blunt and honest, like Kiibo himself, but you didn’t just freely share yourself, a sort of unspoken trust had to be built up before you’d go into more detail.

· With Kiibo and you spending so much time with one another everyone just sort of assumed the pair of you just started dating. It also certainly didn’t help that Kiibo became a flustered, blushing mess when you were teased about it. “I mean, it only makes sense, ANYONE can see we’re crushing on each other.” “W-w-w-w-wait! Hold on a second! You, you know, and like me too!?” You smiled, leaning over and kissing his forehead. “What do you think?” Your smile only grew as you started to snicker seeing Kiibo’s blush grow.

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aspenflower17 · 4 years ago

Text

Finding You (Part 17 of ??)

Hello everyone! Thank you all for being so patient! I had pretty bad writers block and couldn’t figure out where I wanted the story to go from the last chapter. I was also dealing with some irl problems as well. It seems like a lot of creators were having the same problems though January and February though. Hopefully March will make everything smooth out! I think I figured out where to go from here (I have the end all planned out, but getting there without ruining the pacing is what’s been giving me problems). I appreciate everyone’s patience while I figured things out, and hopefully I can get back on a normalized schedule!

Anywho, if you’re new to this story and would like to start at the beginning, here’s the link to part 1. Every chapter should have a link to the next part at the end, so hopefully you decide to read it all :D

Tags <3 : @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb @mammonismyfirstman (I’m not great about putting this on every chapter, but if you want to be added to the tags list, just comment below asking to be added (I don’t want to assume everyone commenting wants a tag so just make sure to mention tag in the comment) or you can send me a DM :) Also, I just went through all the chapters so far and I think I have everyone. If I missed you just remind me and I’ll put you in!)

Word Count: 2566

TW: some angst relating to last chapter but that’s about it

Satan sat in his room, contemplating whether telling Mc about Michael was a good idea or not. It’d been a couple days since she’d come over and he hadn’t heard anything from her. It was worrying him more than he wanted to admit, but he knew from spending a lot of time with her as a human, it would be a better idea for him to leave her alone until she was ready to talk to him. From the way she speaks about him, it’s pretty clear their relationship is a bit strained. Actually, it reminds me a bit of me and Lucifer, though with obvious differences.

While the Avatar of Wrath would never admit it aloud, he did have a kind of respect for Lucifer. It took a different form than anyone else’s mostly because he knew him. All of him. Flaws, strengths, weaknesses, secrets. Well, at least up until his birth. He’d had no idea about Lilith and what Lucifer had done. Lucifer had definitely changed a lot since the Fall, but Satan could generally figure out what he was thinking or how he was going to respond to a situation. So, what was going on with Mc and Michael?

Obviously he didn’t want her talking with him at least. There was probably some fear she’d fall, taking the path of her ancestor but for a being in the Devildom. He couldn’t see any war resulting from her Falling. It would be from her own choice, with no forbidden fruit or humans involved. He was pretty sure Michael didn’t feel anything romantic for her, so it probably wasn’t anything involved in wanting her to stay for him. So why?

He was pulled from his thoughts by his DDD ringing. Hoping it was Mc, he answered by the second ring, “Hello?”

“Congratulations! You’ve won an-” Satan growled and hung up. Stupid solicitor.

There was a knock at his door, “Yo Satan. I got somethin’ for ya’,” Satan sighed, but got up to answer the door. Pulling it open, he saw Mammon and Mc on the other side, “Said she wanted ta talk ta ya. It sounded urgent so…” Mammon smiled a bit apologetically.

“That’s quite alright. Mc, hello. How lovely to see you. Do you want to come in?”

“I’d appreciate that. Thank you,” Mc entered his room as Satan shot daggers through his eyes at Mammon.

“A little warning next time would be nice.”

“Oi! If ya hadn’t been so… gloomy lately maybe I wouldn’t have been so worried- No, ya should just be grateful to the Great Mammon. I’m not an errand boy ya know,” and with that, Mammon stalked off down the hallway.

Satan rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything back. He understood Mammon was just trying to help him, “Well, it’s nice to see you Mc. How… Are you okay?” Mc was turning slowly, looking at his room in awe. He would’ve just figured she was simply impressed by his room like she had been the other first time she’d seen it, but she looked rattled.

“Oh! I was just… Umm… Your collection is really impressive,” she deflected his question, smiling. The unease remained in her eyes though.

“Yes. This is my personal collection,” Satan answered, leaving his question unanswered.

“It’s quite… impressive,” as she turned, Satan caught her frown again. Does she not like how messy it is?

“Though they’re not all on shelves, I make sure they’re all kept in good shape. I honestly just don’t have enough wall space or bookshelves for them all.”

“Oh… I understand. I tend to get book piles too,” Mc answered, a bit caught off guard.

So it’s not the mess. What could it be?

“So, what are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you. I just haven’t heard from you for a couple days.”

“I’m sorry about that and just showing up out of the blue like this. I had a lot to think about after… last time, and some things to research. Then inspiration randomly struck for my next art show. Not to mention, Michael’s been keeping a close eye on me ever since he blew up. I wanted to see you, and I didn’t even think to message you first. I’m sorry about that.”

Satan was at a loss for words. She wanted to come see me. She wanted to see me so much, she just showed up. I should really say something to her right now, but I’m not sure what to say.

“You’re not angry with me, are you?” Mc turned back to him, looking worried.

“Of course not. I was afraid you were possibly upset with me, and Lucifer I suppose, for what we told you. I know hearing something like that must be hard.”

Mc smiled, “Well, that’s good to know. As to what you told me… I do trust you guys. More so than I trust most of the other angels in fact… But you are demons and what you told me was… Anyway, I was researching what you told me to see if I could corroborate your story and I did find a couple different mentions of Lilith, one of which told of a connection between her and the fruit. I couldn’t prove or disprove the claims that he… That he was the one that shot her, but with how defensive he immediately got after I mentioned seven angels falling instead of six… I… I can’t bring myself to believe he’d do something that terrible yet, but I do believe you guys on everything else, and… it’s not beyond the realm of possibility. In any case, the Celestial Realm definitely covered up much of the war, including its causes. I had a suspicion when I originally learned about it, but figured it was all just in my head,” Mc looked Satan straight in the eyes, “I want to thank you for being honest with me.”

“How are you so sure we didn’t lie to you? Like you said, we are demons.”

“Call it a hunch,” Mc smiled, “Anyway, I really appreciate it, and I wanted you to have this,” she handed him a very lifelike drawing, “I thought you might like cats, so I frew my favorite one from the Celestial Realm.”

Satan couldn’t believe his eyes, “Leo?”

“Huh?”

“That’s Leo. I… half adopted him a while ago.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, he’s got hearts all over him right? The one on his forehead and chest are the most prominent, but there’s a couple more on his back and stomach right? Hold on. I have a couple photos here,” and Satan went rustling through a drawer. It was hard to find a photo of him without Mc, but he knew there were some. Leo was a cat that he and Mc had adopted together. She’d used all her charm and reasoning skills to get Lucifer to agree to allowing a cat in the house. She had promised him it would only be the one cat, though they secretly were planning on getting another once Leo passed. They unfortunately didn’t get the chance to see that happen, as Mc passed away before Leo did. Lucifer had allowed Satan to keep the cat as a way to cope with Mc’s death. He listened to me! I told him to go find his Mom once he left me, and he did! I’m so happy!

He finally found a good picture to show Mc, “See? Same cat.”

“Oh my! You’re right! That’s incredible!”

“So, you said he was your favorite?”

“Yeah. Because of how transient most cats are, they don’t spend long in the Celestial Realm. He may not spend a lot of time with me, but I do see him around a lot, and he has comforted me before. A lot of the other angels think he was a pet of mine from my human life, and that's why he sticks around.”

“Well, who wouldn’t want to stay with you?”

Mc looked up at Satan, “You really think that?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“You didn’t even know me then. What if I was boring or really dumb in the human realm?”

Satan slapped himself internally for not being more careful, “I highly doubt you were either of those two things. I know when people come down here, they don’t lose any of their personality.”

“Really?”

“Yup. It makes the whole process of breaking them so much more entertaining,” seeing Mc’s worried expression, he cleared his throat and moved on, “With that line of thinking, angels would be the same way. Your placement was just decided by how good you were in life.”

“What if I was a Wanderer though?”

Satan sucked in a breath at that. She had been a Wanderer? There was a chance she could have ended up here with him?

“There’s a lot of theories on why someone might Wander. None of them are conclusive though. I wouldn’t worry too much about it if I were you.”

“Satan?”

“Yes?”

“When the time comes, will you answer my questions?” Mc didn’t look at Satan, but he had the feeling this was an extremely important question.

“Of course I will.”

Satan watched some tension leave Mc’s body, as she turned to him and smiled sincerely, “Thank you.”

“Well, of course. That’s assuming I can answer them.”

“I have a feeling you’ll be able to,” she answered cryptically.

“Very well then. Since you’re here, would you like to stay and read? Or we can go somewhere if you’d like,” she turned to him, and he couldn’t help the words that fell from his lips, “I just want to spend some time with you.”

Mc looked a bit shocked, but then she smiled softly, “I’d really like that.”

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

They decided on reading, but not before they went downstairs to grab some snacks. As predicted, Beel was there as well.

“Hey Mc,” Beel grinned, his feast not yet begun.

“Hi Beelze… Actually, is it alright if I call you Beel?”

“Huh? Why wouldn’t it be okay?” Beel cocked his head to the side in confusion.

“It’s just… I don’t know you very well, so I didn’t know if it was alright. Plus, they always refer to you as Beelzebub in the Celestial Realm.”

“Wait… Do they talk about us up in the Celestial Realm?”

“Not a lot, but when speaking about our history they do talk about you all, especially Lucifer.”

“What do they say about me?” Beel had grabbed his wrist.

“Yeah, what do they say about us? I wanna know,” Belphie’s head popped out from underneath the table, making Mc yelp a little and grabbed onto Satan’s arm. His hand automatically covered hers, a reflex from when she had been a human.

“Oh yeah. Belphie’s here too,” Beel added happily, watching the angel and his brother.

Belphie smirked, eyes on their arms, “So, what do they say about us?”

“You give me a near heart attack and then carry on like nothing happened?” Mc asked, a bit embarrassed.

“Your fault for not looking,” Belphie grunted, looking at Satan who was nearly frozen in place, his eyes focused on the point of contact, “You woke me up so maybe you should be apologizing to me.”

“Belphie, don’t be mean. You were hiding weren’t you?” Beel asked.

“Well, yeah, but that’s not the point. And how long are you going to keep clinging to my brother like that? I know he’s stronger than me, but I’m not going to hurt you.”

Mc looked to see she was still grabbing Satan’s arm, “Eep! S-Sorry! I didn’t realize,” she removed herself and took a step away, face burning.

“That’s quite alright Mc,” Satan managed to get out.

“So, what’d you guys come down here for?” Beel asked, frowning a bit at Belphie.

“Ah, right. Snacks. We came down for snacks,” Mc said quickly, face still flushed.

“I can help with that,” Beel said, “Come over here Mc and I’ll help you pick food out.” By the time their snacks were decided, both Mc and Satan had to carry them up to his room.

“We have way too many snacks,” Satan observed, “I’ll still have some in my room a month from now.”

“Awww, come on you guys! I went down to resupply early to avoid Beel taking everything, but it was really you two I needed to watch out for?”

“He was already there when we went down. He sent us back with all this,” Satan answered, not really wanting to deal with Levi at the moment. The twins had already taken up enough valuable reading time as it was.

“Of course he would. He never thinks about me when he cleans out the fridge. It’s not like it’s easy for me to just leave the house to go get something, but no one ever thinks about me. It’s probably because I’m a-”

“Oh, do you want these then?” Mc cut him off, extending her full arms.

“Wha…? You’re giving these to me?”

“Sure. Why not?” Mc smiled at him.

Levi’s eyes went wide and his lower lip quivered a bit, “You’re so kind. You’re truly an angel now.”

“Because I wasn’t before?” Mc chuckled.

Levi’s eyes got even wider and he looked down, “W-Well, I-I… Just… Thank you for the food. I think I need to go back to my room now!”

“Oh, sure. Here you go,” the snacks were handed off, Levi only dropping 3 in his haste, and then he was walking as quickly as he could down the hallway towards his room.

“That was weird,” Mc commented, watching him hurry down the hallway.

“He’s weird,” Satan sighed, extremely grumpy that Levi not only interrupted them but then said something so thoughtless, “Don’t worry about him.”

“Sure,” Mc replied, though he was sure she was still wondering about it.

“Let’s just get to my room before we’re interrupted by anyone else.”

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

Satan closed his book and stretched, enjoying the increase in blood flow throughout his body, “How are you enjoying- Oh,” Mc, who he had given the bed to, the place she had read before they would read cuddled together, was asleep. She was breathing deeply, book still clutched in her hand.

Chuckling, Satan padded over to the bed, and pulled a blanket over her. Coincidentally, it was one she had given him. She had been convinced it was the best blanket for reading ever. He had put a perseverance spell on it so it never got worn past where it was comfortable. Now that he had it for a long time, he found himself agreeing with her.

He allowed himself a moment to admire her sleeping form, the muntins in his window throwing a line across her face. She adjusted in her sleep, pulling the blanket closer. She smiled sleepily, murmuring something that almost sounded like his name. She truly is just as beautiful as before she left that last time. The last time I ever saw her alive…

His hand caressed her jaw line before he knew what he was doing, “I’ll never lose you again. For as long as you’ll allow me in your life, I’ll be here. I promise you that,” he whispered, leaning down and lightly pressing his lips to her forehead.

She stirred at the contact, eyes opening sleepily and focusing on him, “Mnh, Satan?”

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

As always, likes, comments and reblogs are always welcome! Until next time!

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